Category Archives: Kiddos

What I Learned Today: iPhone Photography is Tricky

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“A good snapshot keeps a moment from running away.” Eudora Welty

I’m not sure if I’m just late to the party or if I’m one of the last of a dying breed to finally succumb to the “dark side” that is the smart phone.  Maybe–it’s both.  Either way, after years of bashing the thing…I am now the proud owner of an iPhone and I feel like Steve Jobs (who I am not a fan of) is all out belly laughing at me big time!

Let me start by saying, I certainly don’t NEED this phone.  I mean, who really does? (Let’s compare convenience with necessity here people.)  But after being lost numerous times while trying to find various tournament venues for my son’s teams (Wichita, Kansas City and even little ol’ Newton) I decided enough is enough–I MUST HAVE one of those fancy phones with a map!  The when, how, where and why of my phone purchase would take too long to detail and I’m fairly certain that I don’t care enough to rehash the whole thing.  What I do know is that last week I managed to get me, my daughter and my folks to an out-of-town wedding without any hiccups and ON TIME.  So for that very reason alone, I can’t complain about this overall quality of the purchase.

TESTING 123

Photos taken with the camera+ app. While I’m not sure I’m a “selfie” kind of girl, I highly recommend this app.

Here, however, is where things get interesting.  iPhones have cameras.  You already know that, and so do I…but did you know that they’re not that good?  Honestly, how can we go around capturing moments and memories (that are supposed to last a lifetime) with this megapixel inferior, soft focus, low light challenged camera???  As a mother of two of the most (reluctantly) photographed kids on the planet, having a better than decent camera is really important to me.  (Here we go again comparing convenience with necessity.)  However, the practical side of me argued that carrying my Canon around 24/7 was just unrealistic, remembering to charge it (at home) before taking it out on the road is low on my priority list, and finally I thought to myself–everyone in the world manages to make their iPhone cameras do the job…surely I can make this work.  Right?

Operating the iPhone camera was much more difficult than I thought.  I’ve been told many times that the iPhone skillfully combines intuitive and ergonomic features that can easily be navigated with one hand.  Okay.  That’s a lot easier said than done when it comes to taking photos.  First of all, you must be super still to avoid that fuzzy, blurry look with this camera.  While I consider myself to be a steady shot, my iPhone has another opinion.  I’ve tried holding my breath and snapping the photo, but that didn’t work out much better.  The soft, focus thing is really an issue for me.  And forget about the zoom.  No good.  And EVERYTHING had these horrible shadows!  Look…I know you’re rolling your eyes with all my complaining, but I do know a thing or two about taking pictures.  At last, (after sorting through several BAD photos) I had to surrender and decided that maybe I needed some help with this photo thing.  Afterall, instagram is a huge success and it’s not like there are thousands of Ansel Adams or Annie Liebovitz types running around with camera phones in this world!

Research.  Yes, research.  I started with the apple FAQs and worked my way from there combing through reviews and tips.  Next, I focused on new media photography articles (there are many) and moved on to blogs about capturing the perfect picture.  It wasn’t long before I discovered that I have a lot to learn.  In the process, I’ve been asking around…finding out what friends do to capture their perfect moments.  I’ve received a lot of great advice and after about a month of iPhone camera ownership, I have managed to snag a few photos that I like.  And while I am far, far from being a professional photographer, this is what I’ve learned today:  iPhone photography is tricky…but there is help!

1.  Take lots of photos and use the auto focus feature (First, you have to find it.)  New technology means that we can take a zillion photos and delete all but the perfect one. 

2.  Lighting is key.  I could go on and on about some of the technical aspects of this point, but here’s the easy version.  Bright light is not your friend (neither is low light).  Say it with me…NATURAL LIGHT!  Try to take photos outside (or near a window) during the golden hours (about one hour after sunrise, and one hour before sunset.)

3.  Get close and personal.  The zoom is a joke on the iPhone camera.  If you want close-ups, then get close up.

4.  Explore apps.  The iPhone is all about apps and so is the camera.  There are tons out there.  Do your research.  Currently, I’m using camera+ and the more I learn about it, the more I like it.  Plus, it’s inexpensive…so you really have nothing to lose.

5.  Filters are your friends.  A friend (and a fellow mother) shared with me how filters have salvaged her photos.  Fuzzy or blurry…use a filter.  Too dark or too bright…use a filter.  Want to set a mood…use a filter.  You get the point. 

I’m excited about what I’ve learned and I hope to learn more (especially where the flash and white balance are concerned.)  I still plan to use my Canon for photos that I want to hang up on the wall, but I’m coming around to this iPhone camera thing.  Like I said before, I’m not a professional…so these are not hard and fast rules…merely suggestions.  And speaking of suggestions…if you have camera phone wisdom you’d like to share with me–bring it on!  I have two (reluctant) kiddos whose lives I need to capture…and I need all the help I can get!  They just keep moving…or is it running?

My Own Field of Dreams (and Memories)

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Sean pitching 2013“Baseball…is a place where memory gathers.”  — Donald Hall

Another baseball summer has come to an end.  And so goes that magical time of year where we schlep our kiddos to and from practice, block out our evenings and weekends for games, purchase sunflower seeds and Gatorade in bulk, spend all of our money at the sporting good stores and plant ourselves for hours on end upon narrow (and often uncomfortable) bleacher seats.  Oh, how I LOVED it!   There’s just something special about being at the ballpark.  And this summer, America’s favorite pastime took on new significance for me as a typical ballgame outing transcended time and space (cue Twilight Zone music here….)

One of the consequences of living hours away from family is that the chorus of cheers and encouragement for your kid come from yourself and the parents of your kid’s friends.  I had become accustomed to hearing these familiar voices during my son’s baseball games, but on this particular weekend when my son stepped up to bat I could hear my Mom say, ‘Here you go, Sean,” followed by my Dad, “Pick a good one.”  And just like that, I was transported back in time, to ball fields in my home town.  Their voices and their presence that afternoon sent me right back to my childhood.  You see, I was a “baseball sister,” nestled in the stands…sucking on sunflower seeds, drinking soda and watching my little brothers at bat.  My Dad was on the field as coach and we all waited with bated breath for every pitch.  In a flashback moment I could see their uniforms and determined looks.  I recalled hot and dry, western Kansas evenings and the sports complex where they played little league.  I took a deep breath and present day reality set back in.
baseball 2013 004All afternoon my head (and my heart) bounced between the baseball game at hand and games past.  My mind’s eye could clearly see thrilling victories and agonizing defeats–my brothers’ sweaty faces and red, dirt stained white pants.  I remembered Dairy Queen celebrations and post game lamentations at the kitchen table.  Then I would see my son, in all his determination strike out a monster of a batter (keep in mind this is little league, but this batter was as tall as the umpire!)  In the stands, my folks and I reminisced about Gatorade gum (does that still exist?), pre-game rituals and the power of green m&ms.  Every caught ball, grounder and close call produced cheers and jeers intermixed with stories from my own childhood…Do you remember when kids wore stirrups as part of their uniforms, when entire teams ran to the parking lot for coolers loaded with soda and snacks, when games were scheduled as late at 9:30pm, and when wearing rally caps was a concept that NEVER had to be explained?  Remember when…?   
Between games, my Dad and husband talked about strategy, the ins and outs of coaching your own kid and various pitching techniques before heading back to the diamonds.  We reminisced about how much baseball caps have changed (do you recall the mesh back, plastic snap variety?) and laughed about the NO SWIMMING ON GAME DAY rule, which still holds true for the new generation of ball players, at least in my family.  We compared games of yesterday with my husband’s baseball experience on the West Coast.  Before long we found ourselves in line at the concession stand again…purchasing more sunflower seeds, of course.  And my niece helped to carefully pick out green m&ms (we might as well test out the “home run” theory) and discreetly handed them off to my son in the dugout (see candy commercial below for explanation), and finally we settled in for another inning of play.    New game, but such familiar territory.  I was living my own “Field of Dreams.”  Like the well-known baseball flick, I was experiencing a mixture of baseball past and present, family togetherness and a desire to hold on to this special summertime moment.
Three games later we were sun-worn and windblown, but smiling.  Sean pitched his very best game of the summer.  We cheered as he and his teammates celebrated in the dugout.  I took in the moment as the most important men in my life collectively grinned from ear to ear and looked so proud!  Okay, it’s just baseball and little league baseball at that, but these are the occasions that become some of our best memories.  As in life, another baseball game, another victory, another afternoon together is never promised.  For now summer baseball will continue to weave itself in and out of my son’s childhood.  We have camps to look forward to, the excitement of new teams and teammates, and the joy of taking in the occassional MLB game whenever we can.  There’s nothing like building family memories around the ball diamond and dreaming major league dreams all while celebrating little victories at the local Dairy Queen.
“People ask me what I do in winter when there’s no baseball. I’ll tell you what I do. I stare out the window and wait for spring.”— Rogers Hornsby
 

Always Open

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more piano 027There’s a little piano that holds court in our living room.  Nestled into a corner just to the left of the fireplace, this small upright garners quite a bit of attention.  Don’t let its ordinariness fool you…this piano is a bona fide magnet!   What is lacks in presence, it more than makes up for in amazement…and I see its wonder every time someone new comes into our home!

The piano arrived last summer.  I was thrilled!  I took lessons in elementary school and thanks to a battery-operated keyboard (that I’ve toted around for 25 years), I’ve managed to play a little ever since.  I’d always wanted a piano in the house, but given our somewhat nomadic-clergy-family lifestyle, we haven’t had the luxury of having our own.  So when the opportunity to have one placed in the parsonage arose, I jumped on it!

My kids were very excited.  Nevermind that we only had one piece of sheet music and a hymnal to play.  Nevermind that it was missing its front wheels.  And nevermind that it was out of tune (I referred to its sound as slightly twangy).  We had a piano!  Slowly we acquired some beginner’s pianos books for the kiddos and I downloaded some of my favorite songs from the internet.  We adorned the piano with a photo of the children, a lamp to help with the lighting and a few other homey touches.  This piano was the perfect fit for our little family…and then IT started.

Whenever someone would step into our living room they would comment, “When did you get a piano?”  Invariably it would start a conversation about music and for those who play (or played) an instrument it would lead to a moment of reminiscing.  Those who stayed longer than a few minutes would eventually make their way over to the piano.  It’s funny to me how much restraint adults have…they noticed it, talked about it, moved toward it, but never touched it.  But when children visit the house (as they’re apt to do thanks to the social nature of my kids), they can’t help but play it.  And who wouldn’t?  I mean, I purposefully leave the keylid open.  Always. 

At first my little girl would try to keep the keylid closed when the piano wasn’t in use.  She reasoned that it was something like keeping the refrigerator door closed.  I love that girl!  I guess she wanted to keep the keys “fresh.”  I tried to explain to her that a piano should be inviting.  My personal philosophy is that once the piano keys are out of sight the whole piano becomes an unused piece of furniture.  As I type this I know it sounds a little strange, but it’s exactly how I feel.  A piano is meant to be played!  In my head a closed keyboard means “don’t touch, stay back.”  Thus, our piano is always open. 

Recently we’ve had some kiddos over who didn’t just touch the piano, but actually sat down at the bench and stayed awhile.  Sure, they hardly knew what they’re doing, but they played nonetheless.  I love to see their little fingers jump around and how they proudly believe that tapping out a morse code style version of Mary Had a Little Lamb somehow makes them the next Mozart.  A few of the boys have ventured to play two keys at the same time!  Others run their hands across the whole length of the keyboard and some sit and test their fingering skills as they cup their hands and play one note at a time.  It may not sound like much (and sometimes it doesn’t sound like that much) and yet it still seems beautiful. 

For myself personally, time spent at the piano is both refreshing and energizing.  I love testing my own abilities and playing music that demonstrates the God-given gifts and talents of a songwriter.  I lose myself in the melodies and tune everything else out.  Musicians and non-musicians alike know that music can be transformative.  I give my heart and my soul over to the sound…and there’s nothing quite like it.  The piano is both powerful and soft…conveying hundreds of emotions with a voice all its own.  For those who play, you know how easy it is to lose track of time.   And it never fails, every time I play I discover something new.  I look forward to experiencing that joyful feeling again and again. 

In some ways that little piano reminds me of our relationship with God.  Yes, I said it.  God is like an open piano.  Patiently and lovingly waiting for us to discover Him.  Always welcoming, our great and wonderful God calls us to come over.  He doesn’t demand our attention, and yet we can’t help but notice His greatness.  He doesn’t mind when we ask questions.  He doesn’t mind when we approach hesitantly.  He doesn’t mind if we don’t have it all figured out and need to sheepishly peck at the keys to find our way in this world.  He uniquely meets our needs and knows our inner thoughts note for note.  It seems the more time we spend developing a relationship with our Creator, the more enriched and blessed our lives become.  As with a song, time spent with God can be transformative.  Our Lord offers us something new every time we enter His presence.  Like an open piano, we– as His creation–are naturally drawn to Him.

Maybe I’m giving our little piano too much credit.  Maybe.  But I know this, we can’t give God enough credit. 

I hope that anyone who visits my home knows that they are welcome to succumb to the great magnet that is our little piano.  I pray that anyone who hasn’t discovered God’s never-ending love and goodness moves closer toward a relationship with our Maker.  As far as I’m concerned, both opportunities are always open.

Prayer is when you talk to God. Meditation is when you’re listening. Playing the piano allows you to do both at the same time.  –Kelsey Grammer

WINK ;) baby names

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😉 What I Now Know about baby names

baby-namesAs a Sunday school teacher I often find that I learn as much (and often times even more) than the young people in my class.  This week was a perfect example of that as we took out our “God goggles” and looked at “naming” and more specifically the difference between good and bad naming.  Who knew that so much could be wrapped up in a name?  And as I studied the lesson a couple of things stood out to me.  First of all, the idea that naming is Biblical.  It was the first job that God gave to man.  You might recall the story in Genesis where Adam was called to name all of the creatures.  The second thing that kept coming up was just how powerful a name can be…which led me to this post.

When my husband and I found out that we were expecting we tossed around several name ideas.  It was fun, light-hearted and a learning experience as we discovered that we had very different ideas about what makes up a good name.  Soon after finding out that we would be having a boy, we began to narrow our focus.  I wanted Matthew or Thomas…family names.  Steve wanted to name our son Jacob or Calvin.  Family members and friends weighed in with their ideas.  Before long we had a long list of possibilities–none of which we were really crazy about or could agree on.  Then someone threw out the idea that we should have a backup name for a little girl…just in case the doctors were wrong.  Yikes!  Like a lot of couples, we finally got serious and bought a baby name book–and the real trouble began!

If you’re ever looking for a good chuckle, look up your name in a baby book.  Better yet, look up the names of family and friends.  Very entertaining.  The baby book we chose (from Motherhood Maternity) was particularly golden as it had a subsection under every name that detailed celebrities who share the same name as well as a sentence or two that describes how the general population feels about the name.  Priceless.  For example, my name–Anna–means graceful, however, the general perception of the name Anna brings about images of a hardy, pioneer woman.  Let me just say that I am anything but a hardy, pioneer woman.  I would have DIED on the prairie!  If I couldn’t pick up my food at a grocery store or through a drive-thru window, I wouldn’t eat.  Nevermind the fact that I can’t stand to be cold (or hot).  I need climate control, too!

This newfound information made choosing a name even harder.  Through laughter we eliminated many names and with awareness added many more.  Finally, we found a name for our son where we least expected it.  In a conversation between my husband and I (about an old Air Force buddy of his) we settled on the name Sean.  Our son would be named for a friend.  The baby book confirmed our choice as Sean means “God is gracious.”  It was perfect.  Still I couldn’t help but look at the two little sentences at the end of the entry…Sean is typically a well-liked man who is debonair and sophisticated like Sean Connery’s James Bond character or  he is an intense, moody (yet talented) character like Sean Penn.  Chuckle, chuckle.  (If you know my Sean, you know exactly which description he favors.)

My daughter’s name came about a little differently.  Armed with knowledge (veteran parents now) we set out to choose a name for our little girl.  Many of the girl names we liked just three years before didn’t makes sense for this new bundle of joy.  I started at the beginning of the baby name book and went about choosing a name methodically.  This became a bedtime ritual for me.  When Steve would finally settle in for the night I would toss out a few names.  He was great at pointing out potential problems with little girl names, things that I had never thought about.  The list of acceptable names was short.  I found myself drawn to one name in particular and offered it up for opinions.  Bad move.  Let me say that again…baaaaad mooooove!  Turns out people have very strong opinions about little girls’ names.  Our mothers were not impressed with this name option.  Oh, they were polite about it…but “umms” and “wells” can surprisingly speak volumes.  I was at a loss until I started the name game fresh again…back to the beginning of the book.  I came upon the name Casey.  It was a sweet Irish name that meant “brave.”  I liked it and before I knew it, I LOVED it.  This was the baby’s name.  This time when we announced our name choice there really was nothing anyone could have said that would have changed our minds.  I think that’s how you know when you’ve come across the right name.  You just have that gut feeling and won’t be swayed any other way (which is good, because this one wasn’t an immediately accepted name choice either.)  I especially loved the short little sentence at the end of this entry.  Casey is an outgoing, friendly brunette.  You just can’t go wrong with an endorsement like that!

So, both children ended up with wonderful, well thought out Irish names (did I mention I’m nothing close to Irish?)  And here’s What I Now Know about baby names:

1.  Naming requires time and consideration.  Many times we overlook the significance of a name and forget to weigh our decisions.  A cute name today can easily become outdated.  An old-fashioned name may require a lot of explaining for years to come.  An unusual spelling is unique, but can be problematic down the road. 

2.  Family names can be tricky.  I have mixed feelings about family names.  I don’t mind the idea of Junior, the Third, the Fourth, etc., but when you have a family name chances are someone is going to nickname your child.  Don’t consider it rude, it’s just that differentiating one person from another is often a necessity for a family.  Be prepared to offer your own nickname.  It can save you a lot of trouble. 

3.  Step into the role of a class clown or bully.  This tip probably seems odd, but it has a serious place on the list.  For example, I really like the name Ashley.  But it was quickly pointed out to me that this name is gold as far as teasing is concerned.  Also, if you child has trouble pronouncing the name Ashley, there’s another opportunity for poking fun.  Kids have enough going on these days…don’t add to it by giving them a name that someone else can easily exploit.

4.  Tread lightly where initials are concerned.  I used to think initials were cute and don’t get me wrong, they work for some people.  But overall, I wonder whether using initials is a disservice to the child.  Look at it this way…when you go by your initials it’s somewhat of a shock to people when you use your real name.  And you’re going to have to use your real name at some point.  I remember someone who went by his initials.  Honestly, it was years before I knew what his name actually was.

5.  Keep the name to yourself…at least for a while.  Let it grow on you.  Walk it around a little bit.  Consider it from all angles.  How does it sound for someone at age 5, 10, 15, 50?  Does it still sound good to you?  When you finally decide to share your baby name–be prepared.  You will get feedback!  It’s not like you have to defend your baby name, but if you’re dead set on it you should be ready to back up your name choice.  Ultimately the decision is yours, but I remember in the name announcing process not really being prepared for some of the comments I received. 

6.  Think of your child.   It’s their name, not yours.  Sure you like it, but think about pronouncing it, spelling it, hearing it chanted at a football game, read aloud at an awards assembly, with the words Mister or Madam President in front of it.  Look at the name’s meaning and significance.  You shouldn’t base your name on some celebrity, but it doesn’t hurt to be knowledgable about whether or not the name will bring to mind a famous person. And lastly, pray that you will give your child a good name…and when you do, use their name well.  How quickly a name can go from good to bad based on tone and inflection.  Build your child up by using their name with love and never in a negative way.  Have you ever seen a child cringe when their name is called out?  Make it a practice to use their name with respect, after all you’re naming a child of God. 

All in all, I’m happy with our baby name choices.  It’s been fun to share with the kids the stories about how we chose their names and what their names mean.  I love to hear how others have arrived at their child’s name choice as well.  There’s only been one hiccup to Sean and Casey’s names…over the phone (especially) people often as me, “Are your children boys or girls or one of each?”  Yes… I thought that I had considered every aspect of their names.  Apparently, I had overlooked gender neutral naming.  LOL 😉

A good name is more desirable than great riches; to be esteemed is better than silver or gold.   Proverbs 22:1

😉 What I Now Know (W.I.N.K.) is a recurring entry on this blog.  The idea of WINK as an acronym popped into my head the other day while I was doing laundry.  You see, aside from being a slave to housework I actually have quite a bit of knowledge filed away in my overworked brain.  While I don’t claim to be an expert on anything, I know something about a few subjects that just might be worth sharing.  And just like that this new blog idea was born–WINK (What I Now Know).  I hope to share a little bit of what I’ve learned as a daughter, sister, friend, wife, mother and all-around regular, ordinary girl.  Look for ongoing posts, but What I Now Know (as a busy wife and mother) is not to promise weekly entries because life happens– and it usually happens when I want to blog!  (Here’s where if I could wink at you, I WOULD.)

It’s Raining Pine Needles in My Living Room

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tree 005We should have listened to my seven-year old daughter while we were at the Christmas tree lot.  She lobbied for a Frasier, but we went with the Balsam–that was our first mistake.  Its intoxicating pine fresh scent had us fooled (not to mention it’s slightly cheaper price tag.)  We took the Balsam and left “Stacy” (my daughter had already named the Frasier) to another couple who had been obviously eyeing it like a hawk that afternoon.  About a week after we decorated the tree my son started to say, “Mom, it’s not good when you can see through your Christmas tree.”  It was our second clue.  When your dog shakes off pine needles like she just stepped out of a bath…that’s called strike three.

You know it’s time to get rid of the Christmas tree when the ornaments start taking themselves down!

So it’s the second week of January.  It had to come down sometime.  I mean, my little girl’s birthday is just a few days away and we can’t have birthday photos with a tumbleweed Christmas tree in the background.  So I bit the bullet and took the tree down—but not before I could make an event out of it.  Christmas Blend Starbucks coffee, peppermint candy canes, and my favorite Christmas DVDs playing…I started taking off the ornaments that hadn’t already surrendered to gravity.  It was a sad day.

Sad because not only was I taking down all the festive Christmas decorations, but sad because this meant another year had slipped through our fingers.  Sad because the kids’ break from school had run its course. Sad because all the holiday cheer has been replaced with dieting resolutions and “organize your life in 2013” mumbo jumbo.  And a whole lotta sad because I had a Christmas tree mess unlike any other!

You always have battle scars when you opt for a real Christmas tree.  Little scratches and scrapes during decorating…and don’t forget the sap, uugggh!  Plus, the occasional water spill and of course–pine needles.  However, this year’s Christmas tree outdid itself in the pine needle department.  They started falling off about a week in.  Then we noticed small piles of needles starting to form on the tree skirt.  Soon after–when the living room was quiet–you could hear the pine needles fall through the tree.  It quickly escalated to sagging garland, the strand of lights slowly inching toward the floor, and the occasional ornament falling in the night.  Before long we began to worry whenever someone opened the front door and a breeze swept in.  I yelled at the kids about running past the tree too fast and setting off a needle avalanche.  We tried to keep up with the needles through the aid of our Dyson vacuum cleaner, but after a while I started to worry that we were actually damaging the Dyson.  And forget about it when the UPS guy came the door–I promise that tree almost came tumbling down when the dog raced to the window to let out her warning barks. On Christmas morning there wasn’t an ounce of snow outside, but there was a nice prickly layer of pine needles dusting every gift.  And then we left town.

When we returned we couldn’t turn the lights on the tree anymore…fire hazard.  My niece caught wind of it on New Year’s Eve via a Skype video call.  She wondered what HAPPENED to our tree!  Her comment spoke volumes.  We all knew it needed to come down.  I actually sort of wanted it to come down (and I NEVER want to put the tree away…I secretly want it to be Christmas all year!)  Still, it was painful to look at and I would have probably paid someone to take it down for me at that point if I thought we had any takers.

One week later we were all sort of used to the newly dubbed “tumbleweed tree.”  Its falling pine needles had become just a regular household sound like the squeak in the kitchen floor.  Whenever I walked into the living room I would just waltz over to the tree, inspect underneath, gather the fallen ornaments, dust off the pine needles and put them on the table.  A small pile of ornaments had started to emerge when I decided that I was all out of excuses.  There were other things that needed to get done, but the tree won out today.  It’s ugly, shabby appearance had already forced me to tell the children that their friends couldn’t come over and play until I had taken it down (and I said that four days ago.)

It took hours and I’m still not technically done putting all the Christmas decorations away, but removing the tree was a big start.  Of course, a zillion needles fell out in the process, it took a broom, a dust pan and about 30 minutes with the Dyson to get things looking good (although I still wouldn’t recommend walking where the tree used to be in your bare feet!)

tree 004I know we’ll do it all again next year and the year after that…although I’ve been eyeing artificial trees in the clearance section at Wal-Mart (wink, wink).  But for now the living room has resumed its regular homey look, the children can have their friends over again, and the branch that used to be our tree has a nice new home up against the fence in our backyard.  And who knows how long it will stay there….

The perfect Christmas tree?  All Christmas trees are perfect!  ~Charles N. Barnard

“B” Christmas…or My Very Own Charlie Brown Christmas Special (starring ME!)

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Bells will be ringing—the glad, glad news…oh what a Christmas to have the blues….

ASomething has been askew this Christmas.  I was sort of afraid to admit it until now since I proclaim this to be my favorite time of year.  It’s not that I’m without a loved one, it’s not that I have an insurmountable list of problems, worries or fears.  I’ve been trying to tell myself that it’s just the weather, but it sort of snowed the other day and that didn’t squelch the icky feeling.

I think if I’m really honest, I’ve missed Christmas–not in the “longing for” sense of the word, but more the “missed out” connotation of the word.  It’s a horrible feeling since Christmas is still two days away.  The dreadful feeling gave itself a name today–“B” Christmas, as in plan B.  (Remember that feeling in high school when you felt compelled to choose a B school, just in case you didn’t get into your college of choice or the time when you had to settle for your second favorite prom dress because your “friend” already snagged the one you were eyeballing!)  You know it’s not a bad thing…but it doesn’t feel all that great either.

I’ve been trying to hash out what went wrong…you know, analyze the variables and figure out what was different this year than in Christmas’ past.  Nerdy, but that’s how I work.  So, here’s what I’ve come up with:  the season actually began too early with Christmas cookies in October, followed by an unusually busy baking season, Halloween (the unofficial start to Christmas) came and went too quickly (and I didn’t take the kids trick-or-treating nor did we visit any pumpkin patches), outside commitments were plentiful, time-consuming and pressing (basketball practices, extra long soccer season, music concerts and church obligations), Thanksgiving was very structured and passed in a blink (I was super intentional this year about being grateful and in the moment…maybe too focused?), I planned too many homemade/handmade gift projects and of course, the mother of all sins…I stayed up way too late trying to make it all PERFECT!  I am guilty of trying to cram 48 hours into 24 hour days…but who isn’t?

In the end I paid for all of it.  I was tired, irritable, a time tyrant.  I spent all my waking hours in the kitchen and/or at the computer.  I planned each day out for maximum productivity and left out any creative and spontaneous time for fun.  Look, I’m not completely crazy…I had moments of being an on-the-ball mother, wife, church volunteer, and baker.  There were occasional moments to pause, but not enough moments to reflect or savor.  There were too many times I thought I wouldn’t get it all done, panic-stricken times when I was certain it wouldn’t come together, and way too many instances where I wondered why I had taken on so much followed by numerous vows to NEVER do any of this again!  I hate that the most.  The cold, hard fact is that I created this problem for myself.  If I had the Christmas blues I was the one standing there with sapphire color paint under my nails, smeared across my cheek and splotched all over my clothes.

In this “smurf-like” state I didn’t have many options–so I did what people with the blues generally do, I cried.  And wouldn’t you know it, I finally felt better.  It reminded me so much of the Charlie Brown Christmas special.  It’s filled with good intentions, projects and purpose.  Linus even recites scripture to remind us of the true meaning of Christmas.  Charlie Brown wants to be the director, the leader that the Peanuts gang is looking for.  He wants to be the guy who’s going to make this Christmas special.  He doesn’t just take on this project for the benefit of those in the Christmas program, he takes it on to better himself…because he believes this venture will raise his Christmas spirit.  Yet, despite his best efforts we all remember the part where Charlie Brown walks out–dejected, sad, depressed and dispirited after he is ridiculed for choosing a tiny, sad excuse for a tree.

But here’s the best part:  It seems like out of nowhere everyone seems to get it.  The Peanuts gang suddenly see the tree in a new light!  They find that part of themselves that connects with the heart of Christmas.  It happens in a blink and without reason and in that cheesy-manner that only comes from 1960’s Christmas specials, but it happens.  I don’t know if the show’s creators would ever say it, but I think that’s the moment when God stepped in.  And in my very own Charlie Brown Christmas special (starring ME!) after those sad, blues-filled tears fell, God stepped in for me as well.  Don’t get me wrong, I’m not a 1960’s Christmas special by any stretch of the imagination.  It didn’t happen in an instant, but it did happen.  Slowly the heart of Christmas filled my spirit and the holy day that I love so much, the season I call my favorite…started to come back to me.

As I finish up this blog it’s now the day after Christmas.  My eyes tear up at the thought of this joyous Christmas 2012 that I almost missed out on.  I thank God for the opportunity to worship and celebrate His Son’s birth on Christmas Eve with an unburdened heart.  I rejoice in spending Christmas day with my husband and children and without any agenda…in fact, we all stayed in our pajamas ALL DAY.  I am overjoyed to say that I consider this Christmas a blessing.  And while my house is a disaster, the pine needles are piling up under the tree like sand, and I’m staring down at least several days worth of Christmas decor to put away, I finally feel content.  I’m still listening to Christmas music.  My husband asked me how long I planned to keep playing it and I didn’t have an answer–I still have a lot of Christmas to make up for.

Gifts of time and love are surely the basic ingredients of a truly merry Christmas.” ― Peg Bracken

They Grow Up So Fast (and a dozen other cliches….)

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Here sleeps a girl with a head full of magical dreams, a heart full of wonder, and hands that will shape the world.  -Author Unknown

WARNING:  SAP ALERT!!!  You know those TV shows and movies where the teary-eyed parent goes into flashback mode.  I trust you’re familiar with that slow fade producers use to signal that we’re going back in time.  And heaven help us if they actually use the wavy picture trick!  Well, I’ll fess up.  For the last week or so I’ve been camped out in that dreamland because my baby girl just had a birthday!  (Dissolving…now.)

I’ll begin the tale with the fact that I didn’t really want a second child.  Every step of the process with our firstborn was difficult from pregnancy to post-pregnancy.  Blessed as we were with one child, I sort of thought we should leave well enough alone.  One baby is good.  But as it typically goes, my plan was not His plan.  When we found out that I was pregnant with our little girl, we could hardly wait to share the good news!

We started calling people on a drive out to beautiful Colorado.  Smiling and happy we passed the miles jabbering along telling everyone we knew.  The pregnancy was off to a great start!  I had such a wonderful doctor who was an angel throughout the process.  She eased my fears, reminding me that every pregnancy is different.  She was right, every pregnancy is different.  While our son was born in record heat for the San Francisco Bay Area…our darling girl was born during record cold in Kansas!

Everything was iced over the night she was born.  My folks had fortunately arrived early–ahead of the date I was to be induced (which was the following Monday.)  We all passed the time laughing, cooking and eating (my Mom is a great cook!) and of course, playing with my son.  We were so busy hanging out that at one point we didn’t even realize that somebody’s car had slid off the road into our yard and ultimately onto our mailbox.  (To our credit, we all thought we heard “something,” although none of us bothered to check.)  Still, the tire marks and the downed mailbox post told the story.  To top off that evening, Steve and I decided to brave the bitter temps and go to Wal-Mart and just walk around, supposedly that’s great for a pregnant woman who wants to speed along the process.  While it never worked for our son, that night I awoke Steve to say that it was time! (I say that I awoke Steve because I did not go to bed that night.  Our little girl had given me the worst insomnia I have ever known and I had grown accustomed to watching late-night infomercials while the rest of the world slept.)

Off we went into the still of an icy night.  Everything progressed smoothly.  I was told that she would probably be born in the late morning or early afternoon.  I passed the time in a horrible hospital gown (whose idea were those things anyway?) watching Bible documentaries (Steve was with me remember) on the History Channel.  When he managed to doze off (I still had insomnia), I couldn’t even change the channel.  Tethered to an IV, I had little mobility and the remote was conveniently still in Steve’s possession.  Oh well.  I gained a great deal of Bible knowledge that night!

Soon it was time.  Nurses scurried around us.  Steve and I were ready.  I fixed my gaze on the giraffe painting across the room.  Only one thing was missing–my doctor!  As wonderful as she was, we were on her time schedule now and I was told not to push until she arrived!  Yikes!  So we waited.  Finally, during the noon hour (and probably the doctor’s lunch break) our baby girl arrived.  It was the easiest delivery ever…what a blessing!  As our little girl tells the story, she “couldn’t wait to get out of there.”

We had no visitors on the first day of our little baby girl’s life.  The weather didn’t permit travel that day.  The hospital was quiet.  We talked on the phone with my folks who were caring for our son, and many other well-wishers who called that day.  Steve had some business to tend to and I was on my own for a while.  Nurses would bring our little girl in and I would look at her in amazement.  She was beautiful.  Big cheeks, a tiny amount of downy hair, and such a small bundle of a body.  Thinking about that day still brings tears to my eyes.

Throughout this week I have relived that day a thousand times as well as countless other “baby girl” memories.  I remember that her nursery was pink and purple with butterflies and bunnies.  I recall that she had her days and nights mixed up.  I remember the colic and the switch to soymilk.  I can’t forget when she fell down the steps or how quickly she learned to walk, practically skipping crawling all together.  I remember how she didn’t even own a doll until she turned one.    I remember her first Oreo, her first lollipop and when she learned to talk… “oh, wow, oh, wow.”  My mind goes back to the holidays we’ve celebrated and, of course, her birthdays:  the Elmo one, the Barbie princess one, the Mermaid one, the cookie baker one, the High School Musical one, the let’s eat at McDonald’s one, the Pop-Princess one and now–this one.

Back to reality and the producer brings everything back into focus.  Each birthday is a blessing and nothing is promised.  My baby girl (who is no longer really a baby) has turned seven.  As I write this it is bitter cold outside, and as far as I know, our mailbox is intact (no ice.)  I still spend way too much time walking around Wal-Mart and my insomnia is merely a thing of the past.  My daughter, who once had her days and nights mixed up, wakes up with the sun and soundly sleeps through the night in a bedroom that is still pink and purple filled with butterflies and bunnies.

Happy, happy birthday, darling Casey.  You are so very LOVED.

Every good and perfect gift is from above… James 1:17