Always Open

Posted on April 8, 2013 by Anna Ortiz Spencer

There’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

Posted on February 27, 2013 by Anna Ortiz Spencer

😉 What I Now Know about baby names

As 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.)

Just Might Be a Cool Mom

Posted on February 23, 2013 by Anna Ortiz Spencer

I had this zany idea the other day…let’s make a snow day Harlem Shake video–and upload it on youtube! What? Yeah, I know. It’s not exactly the sort of thing that pops into the head of a quiet midwest Mom (sometimes I even surprise myself.) So, how does one arrive at the idea of a snow day Harlem Shake? Glad you asked. Let me walk you through it.

The whole thing started when I saw the Kansas Jayhawk basketball team’s Harlem Shake video. A die-hard Jayhawk fan, I absolutely loved it and shared it with my kids. They liked it. Liked it? That’s right, they liked it as in they watched it once and moved on. Okay. Mmmm, maybe this Harlem Shake thing isn’t exactly cool. But it sure was funny and I soon found myself cruising youtube looking for more Harlem Shake videos. Before I knew it I had watched a couple dozen videos (some good, some not so good). Eventually, I decided to turn to everybody’s favorite source for information–Wikipedia–and find out more about these videos. Turns out it’s this big web frenzy…complete with rules and criteria like masks, costumes, wielding objects and in some cases, very little clothing! The whole things lasts less than one minute and I thought to myself…it might be fun to make one. Of course, I never (ever) thought we actually would–but Mother Nature had a better plan.

Enter the big midwest snow storm! Wednesday’s light snow and modest accumulations (mixed with the weatherman’s doomsday overnight forecast) led us to cancel Wednesday night activities at church. A relaxed night of Jayhawk basketball ensued (LOL that game was anything but relaxing!) Word that school was cancelled for Thursday made room for a laid back morning and an additional 5 inches of snow created opportunities for some outdoor fun. We could have headed to the backyard to build a snowman (I like snowmen), but blame it on the Jayhawks victory, their funny Harlem Shake video and the rare occurrence of a well-rested Mom and an idea was born. I announced my plans over lunch. No one was as excited as I was.

I headed to the basement to gather some props. I explained the “rules” of the video to the kiddos and swore that it would take 5 minutes or less to create. Still, no one moved. I bribed them with the promise of hot cocoa and extra play time in the snow that afternoon. They were slow to get moving, grumbled all the way out the door, and gave me blank stares when I directed them into the yard. My son complained that the whole thing was embarrassing (and he’s an EXTROVERT) while my daughter moped and sulked in the snow. Three minutes later we were done and they were FREE! They couldn’t get to their friends fast enough and I was left feeling like the “uncool” Mom with the “uncool” idea of making a Harlem Shake video.

Fast forward to later that afternoon. The video had been edited and uploaded. I asked the kids to come see the finished product. The smile that crept across their faces was priceless. My children are hams at heart and love to see themselves on any screen. They giggled. They asked me to play it again. They laughed at themselves, laughed at each other and of course, laughed at their parents. I linked the video to my Facebook page and we laughed together throughout the day as family and friends liked and commented on our video.

We were surprised this morning to see that our video had more than 60 views on youtube…for today’s “plugged in” kids that’s a pretty big deal. Our snow day Harlem Shake video was the buzz at the only hill in town worth sledding on–which means… this little family project just might be labeled a success, that as parents we aren’t that lame and out of touch and finally, that for once (yes once), I just might be a cool Mom.

No one in this world will ever love you like your Mom. author unknown

February is the Longest Month

Posted on February 2, 2013 by Anna Ortiz Spencer

“February is a suitable month for dying. Everything around is dead, the trees black and frozen so that the appearance of green shoots two months hence seems preposterous, the ground hard and cold, the snow dirty, the winter hateful, hanging on too long.”
– Anna Quindlen, One True Thing

Let me be clear. I am not a fan of the month of February. Yes, I am aware that there are a lot of fantastic holidays in February…admirable tributes like Black History Month, President’s Day, and (occasionally) Ash Wednesday. Obviously, there are good times to be had…Ground Hog’s Day, Super Bowl Sunday, and Mardi Gras. Then there are wacky observances like Wave All Your Fingers at Your Neighbor Day (7th), Don’t Cry Over Spilled Milk Day (11th) and Do a Grouch a Favor day (16th). The month of February even offers special days like Random Acts of Kindness Day (17th) and Love Your Pet Day (20th), not to mention the big holiday of the month–Valentine’s Day. We’ve packed a lot into this little month and yet…for me, February remains the longest month of the year.

I think a lot of it has to do with the weather. It is too cold. Now there’s cold and then there’s too cold. February brings with it the kind of temperatures that people refer to as “too cold to snow.” It’s absolutely bitter with winds that will cut through you like a knife. It’s not just a Kansas thing either. When I lived on the West Coast I still loathed the month of February. Don’t let the California stereotype fool you…there’s very little sun to be had in February. Rain, rain and more rain. Gloom, dark clouds, and extra gloom. (Can you tell that I don’t like rain either?)

Yes, February seems extra long because of the weather but there’s also another factor. I’m not sure exactly how to describe this one, but I’ll just call it “The Letdown.” Here’s where we’ve passed all the fun holidays and those New Year’s resolutions start to fall apart. You know what I mean…the diet failed, the get organized frenzy has died down, and we are weeks away from Spring Break or any sort of exciting getaway. “The Letdown” reminds us that we have nowhere to run.

Speaking of nowhere to run…February is also the time of year where everybody is sick with something. I actually start to fear my husband and my kids. My kids especially. Every time I see their cute little faces I think about all the germs they’ve picked up at school. Yuck! They’re probably sick of me telling them to wash their hands every time we come home from school, church, shopping, etc. As a certified germaphobe, I am on pins and needles all month. My hands are so dry they’re practically untouchable. Make the school lunches–wash my hands–pour some juice–wash my hands–touch a doorknob–wash my hands. You get the picture. Once (obviously a long time ago) a nurse told me that I had the softest hands she had ever touched, but not anymore, lady! I’m practically bankrolling Aveeno right now and I’m pretty sure holding my hand on Valentine’s Day isn’t what it used to be!

Good, that brings me to Valentine’s Day. It might mean something if they didn’t put the Valentine candy out on December 26th (or sooner!) The holiday has become almost as overwhelming as Christmas. The pressure is on to find the perfect gift coupled with the added pressure of trying to find the right card. You don’t want to say too much or the wrong thing. Here’s where I feel really bad for people who are still dating. Talk about complicated. I should feel sorry for my husband, too. I’m not easy to shop for under any circumstances and I’m certainly no picnic at Valentine’s Day. Not into flowers or candy…mostly I just want a nap.

This has been fun…all my ranting about February. As I started writing this blog I came across several others who dislike February just as much as I do. I actually found that encouraging. I also came upon this little piece of trivia. February is named for an ancient purification festival…I don’t know all the details but I imagine everyone was so busy hibernating and avoiding the cold weather that they couldn’t help but purify themselves. Picture this, people of an ancient city where the temperatures are so cold that they stay in…not just for a day, but for several. Sounds like fasting to me. They survive only by drinking snowmelt (doesn’t get much purer than that.) Their isolated lifestyle means less exposure to germs, thus no risk of colds or flu. Consequently, there wouldn’t be a need for excessive hand washing. And finally, I’m pretty sure the pressures of Valentine’s Day just didn’t exist back then. Maybe these ancients were on to something!

So it’s day one of this never-ending month and I may have just solved my own dilemma. I will no longer be a victim of the “February funk.” It’s all about hibernation…so excuse me while I get my favorite blanket and try to consume a much coffee as I possibly can without leaving the house. I mean, I’ve only got 28 days 🙂

WINK ;) concussions

Posted on January 26, 2013 by Anna Ortiz Spencer

😉 What I Now Know (W.I.N.K.) about concussions.

Until about a year ago, I never really worried about my kids getting injured in sports. Both my children have played ball since the could walk–soccer, flag football, basketball and baseball. There were plenty of bruises and scrapes, but for the most part nothing serious. I know that injuries are part of the deal (that’s why I made my son play flag football and not tackle.) If injuries weren’t reality then we wouldn’t have to sign a zillion papers promising not to sue the YMCA or rec league. That being said, I still naively thought that broken arms and sprained ankles happened to other people’s kids…and there I go, clicking my heels.

Today, I’m a little neurotic when it comes to sports injuries. My hypersensitivity comes from my own son’s concussion last January. My ten-year old went up to intercept a long pass at midcourt, lost his footing and landed on the back of his head. (He would want me to mention that he DID catch the basketball!) I will never forget how the whole gym went silent as a group of coaches and my husband ran onto the court. My son managed to walk off on his own and sat dazed and confused on the bench as a family friend and teacher went to get ice. At the time none of us could have imagined the scary door this injury would open up for him and our family.

He had a headache and he was grumpy (who wouldn’t be? It was Saturday night and he had plans to go to a hockey game with a friend.) What we didn’t realize was that this headache would last four months. We didn’t go to the emergency room…a rookie mistake. We did however consult a friend (a paramedic ) who recommended that we see our family doctor first thing on Monday. The doctor’s examination was thorough and included a trip to the local hospital for x-rays, etc. It’s amazing the things you learn about your own kids in a doctor’s office setting, you know–things they tell the doctor and not their parents. Like the fact that when he first hit the floor everything went black for a second. And that he couldn’t hear out of one ear for most of the weekend. And finally that his jaw hurt on one side when he chewed (turns out he was chewing on the other side so we wouldn’t know.) The doctor filled us in on all the results and told us that the scans had all come back clear. We were relieved. Now we just had to limit our son’s screen time (TV and computer), make sure he got plenty of rest, and WAIT. Oh yeah, he couldn’t play any sports until he was headache free for 5 days straight.

I wish I could say that healing was as easy as following the doctor’s instructions. About three days later we felt comfortable sending him back to school. In hindsight, that was another rookie mistake. It’s very hard to limit screen time (and READING) when you’re not present, even if all the teachers understand the situation. I think that’s where the lesson of this particular injury really comes full circle. Most of us (myself included) have no idea how serious a concussion is. We see and hear about athletes all the time who take hard hits and end up back on the field or the court the next week. What we don’t realize is that a concussion is a brain injury and we only have one brain. And brains take time to heal! Especially children’s brains. Allowing your child to return to regular activities too soon can lead to a secondary injury. These can be very serious and cause permanent damage to the brain and even death. You can check out Dr. Sanjay Gupta’s video for more details about concussions in children. http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=XnIRso_04Ks&feature=player_detailpage

It took four solid months for the headaches to go away. My son couldn’t participate in gym, recess or any other physical activity. This is especially deflating to a competitive ten-year old boy who eats, drinks and breathes sports. About three months in, our doctor recommended we scale back all stimuli and pull him out of school at lunch time. This is where we really started to see improvement. Less means more when it comes to healing a concussion! The Monday after Easter, almost four months to the day of his injury, my son was released for regular activity. It’s a day I will never forget.

Sean with a note from the doctor clearing him for all activities following a concussion. It was a long four months.

So, here’s what I now know about concussions:

1. Concussions are emergencies. Have someone look at the injury right away.

2. Reduce all stimuli for the first week, no exceptions. This means…no TV, cell phones, computers or electronic devices of any kind. No reading or school. No physical activity. I truly believe that if we had cut out all stimuli during the first week of his injury he would have recovered much faster. Children will kick and scream, but we must be the parents in this situation.

3. Remind your children that they must be honest in medical situations and tell you every symptom they’re experiencing. If I had known that my son blacked out (even momentarily) or that he couldn’t hear out of one ear, we would have certainly responded more urgently and taken him to an ER right away.

4. Don’t be afraid to make the tough decisions and stand firm. My son wanted to play basketball again. We allowed him to go to the games and support his team, but he was DONE for the season. I will tell you honestly that there was a lot of talk among friends, family and schoolmates about how we were being overprotective parents, questions of my son’s “toughness,” and many who second-guessed the seriousness of concussions in kids.

5. Find a doctor who understands concussions in children. We were fortunate. I cannot tell you how much we value our kid’s doctor!

6. Pray and ask for prayers. As a family of faith, we believe that a mighty God was with our son and our family during this time. The power of prayer cannot be underestimated. The strength and support offered by our church family was vital. I could go on and on….

Today, my son is playing basketball again. Don’t get me wrong–we all held our breath during that first basketball game back and especially during the game that took place in the same gym where he landed on his head. I am a more fretful mom today and I make no apologies for it. I cringe and pay extra special attention when I hear about similar injuries. And I make it a point to tell other parents and family members What I Now Know about concussions.

Men ought to know that from the brain, and from the brain only, arise our pleasures, joy, laughter and jests, as well as our sorrows, pains, griefs, and tears. Hippocrates (about 400 B.C.)

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

Posted on January 10, 2013 by Anna Ortiz Spencer

We 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!)

I 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!)

Posted on December 27, 2012 by Anna Ortiz Spencer

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

Something 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

The Other Birthday Brother

Posted on September 18, 2012 by Anna Ortiz Spencer

It’s my other brother’s birthday and I’m all smiles. I asked my sister to find some photos of our brother for his birthday blog and this one stole my heart. Look at that toothless grin, HUGE ball cap (did you borrow that from Dad?) accompanied by a tiny body, lefty baseball stance, and sporting a look of sheer determination! And you were way ahead of your time with that stylish flat bill…LOL! Under that hat I imagine that you’re sporting the same haircut you run around with today and that’s one of the things I love about you…you always know what works for you! If it ain’t broke, don’t fix it.

I wish I could remember you when you were little, but I was little too and so we’ll have to go with what I’ve been told…brace yourself. According to unnamed sources (our Mom), I loved to give you a bottle. Somewhere I must have learned that happy babies are well-fed babies and so you were constantly having milk shoved in your direction. As the story goes, it didn’t really matter if you needed or wanted your bottle, whether you were crying or not, I seemed to know what was best for you and as your older sister I decided that was milk. So, I was a dairy pusher in your early days but don’t worry, you had your revenge later in life when you decided to dump a bowl of melted ice cream on my head immediately after my bath. Yuck, and it was chocolate almond.

I remember when your tiny hand was all burned from hot coffee and the photo that exists somewhere of you on a picnic table sporting a sweater and a diaper with your paw all bandaged up. You were small and cute and yes, other fun photos of you exist with your red-tinged hair! Most of my childhood memories involve you and our youngest brother together. You were each other’s best friend and worst enemy. When you added in the neighborhood crew…well, the adventures never stopped. There were many years of toy trucks, baseball, football, BMX bikes, basketball, track, lawn mowing, weightlifting, and even one season of soccer. There were so many good times and it seems like only yesterday when we would all stay up late, watching Nick at Nite and playing monopoly for hours in the basement of our parent’s house.

Today, I tell my kids stories about you and our other siblings, but I’m not sure if I’ve ever shared two of my all-time favorite stories about you and I. Interestingly, they both involve a ghetto blaster (now if that doesn’t send you way back…I don’t know what will!) First, I remember the time when we tried to convince our little brother that he snored when he slept. So, after he drifted off to sleep we tried to record him snoring. But he slept silently, peacefully, and soundly. No snoring…and I’m not sure if he really ever snored at all. But we had a mission and the mission was to prove that he snored. In my bedroom we secretly created a recorded a tape of our little brother sleeping–a FAKE obviously. It started with a few grunts, groans, some snoring sounds then morphed into a symphony of noises that could only come from a barnyard. Bogus as it was, we seemed satisfied and waited until morning to play the tape and reveal that yes, indeed our little brother was a big time snorer (not!) I’ll never forget how much we laughed and how hard our little brother cried. He told Mom, we were busted, forced to admit that we made it all up, and probably punished (but I tend to block those memories out!) Ahh…good times.

My other fave story also involves the same ghetto blaster (remember how Dad carved our names into it?) We were huge fans of the Karate Kid (I and II) and watched those movies over and over. We were also two broke little kids who didn’t have money to purchase the movie soundtrack…yet we LOVED the Peter Cetera song The Glory of Love. Nevermind that we were too young to understand the song, that part was irrelevant. So determined we were to get a our own copy of this beloved piece of music, we decided to request it on the radio. So, phonebook in hand my brother called the radio station and made the request. As soon as he hung up, I called the radio station to make the same request. This pattern repeated for at least an hour as we sat with our hot little hands on the record button waiting…and waiting….and waiting. I’m sure the DJ was at his breaking point when the song FINALLY played. It’s amazing what determination, concentration, hard work, dedication, and the sheer act of annoying the heck out of some poor guy who works at the radio station can do for two pesky kids on a Friday night! Just like the Karate Kid…we were victorious!

Today is my brother’s birthday and I’m proud of the man he has become. The qualities that I liked about him as a kid are the same qualities that I love about him today. He is fun, hardworking, dependable, strong, reliable, honest and incredibly loyal. He is the one who will listen, come up with a plan, and help you out of whatever kind of nonsense you’ve managed to get yourself into. He’s a wonderful son, brother, father, uncle, son-in-law, brother-in-law, cousin and FRIEND. Wishing you the happiest birthday ever. YOU ARE LOVED! BTW, I requested this song for you….

A true friend is always loyal, and a brother is born to help in time of need. Proverbs 17:17 NIV

Our Sunday Best

Posted on September 17, 2012 by Anna Ortiz Spencer

For where two or three are gathered in my name, there am I among them. Matthew 18:20

I can remember going to church as a kid and counting tiles on the ceiling. We didn’t go to church very often and I couldn’t tell you why those tiles appealed to me so much. Nevertheless, it was a perfect ruse for not paying attention. It makes me giggle a little because I probably looked quite angelic staring off into space like that. I imagine that my head was tilted just so that any onlooker might think that I was lost in prayer or in some kind of deep conversation with God. In reality it was simply–one, two, three, and did I count that one already?

Today I can tell you that I truly look forward to Sundays and attending church. I rush around trying to get myself ready, tame my son’s bed head, and fight with my little girl about clothing options (and she’s just in grade school!) Every clock in the house flashes a different time (maddening really) and I rally the troops with coffee and breakfast in hand…then it’s out the door we go. It’s comical because I go to church for a lot of reasons, but at that particular moment every Sunday morning all I can think about is that when I get to church I can finally REST!

So, this morning I was sitting in my usual pew feeling quite good. I had just received communion, the organ played in the background and I was at REST. Then, all of a sudden, the REST was over and I found myself counting! No, I wasn’t staring at the ceiling or counting tiles, instead I was counting blessings. I was watching as each member of the congregation came forward for communion. My counting began with a memory of the first time I met this person, the kindness of that person, the loss that this other person had recently experienced. My heart counted children whom I’ve come to know and love in our church, their parents who have become my friends, and a woman who will soon have a baby. I counted the people who have joined the church in the almost three years we have served here. I counted people who have been at this church for years and years and who will continue to worship here long after we’re called to serve elsewhere. My counting included those who faithfully serve the church each Sunday…ushers, communion stewards, and musicians. I counted staff and their families who attend worship each week. And when the moment passed, I felt more than REST…I felt true peace. The funny thing was at the end of all my counting I didn’t have a number. I couldn’t tell you how many people received communion that morning (and of course, that number was completely irrelevant.) I was left only with that warm feeling that fills my spirit every Sunday…and I will happily count on that!

Faithful attendance at Church meetings brings blessings you can receive in no other way. –Ezra Taft Benson

hymningandhaing

balancing faith, family & a few dozen other things on the yellow brick road