Party Planner

There are two 9 inch round chocolate cakes on the stereo in the computer room.  Four more on the piano.  3 yellow on the fridge.  3 a top the bookshelf.  All told, there are 17 in all, scattered around the main floor of our house.

Thinking one of the adults in the house has hoarding issues?

In fact, this is party preparation.  It's Merryn's birthday celebration, and a few days ago she sent mailed invitations to each of her guests.  She created a guest list, filled out the invitation information, addressed envelopes, sealed them, stamped them, and mailed them immediately before her parents changed their minds.

While we always observe a birthday, we don't do annual birthday blow-outs for each of the kids.  It gets to be, well, a little excessive.  So, if they turn double digits, or sweet sixteen, or leave classmates for a new school, or observe a golden birthday, then we might acquiesce and have friends join us.

Quite a few years ago, we quickly realized that if we kept giving our kids stuff (and invite other people to parties in which they too would do so), we would suffocate from what was amassed.  Plus, we didn't want our kids to get attatched to material things, especially if it made the children less grateful. 

So, we started focusing on giving them "experiences".  Some of our best parties have been at public parks with water features, or hikes in Starved Rock State Park.  We've had a surprise "Come as You Are" breakfast bash in which even the guests didn't know they were coming!  (Boy, did all the parents have fun with that one!).  The focus has always been spending time together, and creating good memories.

So, tomorrow we are going to work on another memorable one... and it just might get a little messy.  That's what we're planning on!

Rush Hour

So, Jack just rescued Tony, who is really not dead after all.  And Bill and Chloe are working a top secret operation outside the government loop, with Tony, who has since returned from the dark side.  And our president must make a decision within the next few hours whether to pull out of an occupied country in Africa where thousands will die at the hands of a dictator, or risk American lives at the hands of terrorists who control a CIP device.

And, who really knows if all of this will turn totally upside down, in, literally, the next hour.

If you followed any of that, then you too must be a fan of 24... the television drama in which an entire season shows "a day in the life" of special agent Jack Bauer.   If it's not thwarting presidential assassinations, disarming chemical warfare, or  preventing nuclear disaster, then it's dealing with the muck of governmental corruption.  It's torture being Jack Bauer.

He makes my life seem really easy.

And if you were able to follow the characters and plot above, then you must also realize that we are a few seasons behind. (Technically this is just one or two days in the life of Jack Bauer).

Well, we actually plan it this way.  Kel and I can't watch tv week to week like most normal folks.  That would require availability on a single weeknight for at least 20 consecutive weeks.  At the same hour each week.  And a memory for details that could span 6 days. 

No, we wait for the whole thing to be over and watch it all on dvd in about 12 days (usually during Christmas break, or the first weeks of summer). 

And before some smartypants starts spouting off simple instructions about TiVo and DVR recorders, I just have one calculation:  Children + Remote Buttons = 85 hours of Dora the Explorer.   

Yes, I know the show 24 has already run its course, that the finale was aired this year, that Jack Bauer may or may not be dead.  DON'T TELL ME.

I'll find out, eventually. 

The Essence

Early this morning, I had a friend come over to do physical therapy on me... today, in my home.  I think she sent me into a deep coma, and when I emerged, 3 loads of laundry were done and Rosie was napping.

Throughout the day, I slid from the couch, to the floor, to the deck, to the couch.

I iced my arm.  And I napped.

In spite of the pain and strain of this stubborn shoulder, I've not experienced such "RELAXATION" in a long, long time.  Would I know it if I saw it?
Today was the epitome, in my best estimation, and boy, it felt good. 

I have an inkling I know what I'm looking for...
And I'd like some more.

Is that not the essence of summer?

Friday Five

Today was a typically busy and eventful day.

Maddie competed with a solo for the first time in a talent show and placed third, singing "God Help the Outcasts" from The Hunchback of Notre Dame.

Kieran competed in the same talent show and sang "I Enjoy Being a Girl" from the Rodgers and Hammerstein musical Flower Drum Song.  She got first place in the Junior Division.

We accidentally ate four pizzas today... two for lunch, two for dinner.  No complaints from Andy or Finan.

Ally packed her bags for a week-long mission trip in Jackson, Mississippi.

Camden spent 6 hours in a lifeguard re-certification class.

Brennan drove mom to the doctor 25 miles south in Bloomington.  And then Brennan turned around and drove Rosie 15 miles east to the doctor in Fairbury.  Kel supervised 8 kids in the interim.

Merryn celebrated her 9th birthday today.  She got a brand new bike with 18 speeds.

I don't know what I would have done differently today, but it just seemed like I should have done a lot differently.  Fuss over Kieran or Maddie's hair for the show?  Pack and repack Ally's suitcase?  Wrap Merryn's gift in festive paper?  Plan and provide more nutritious meals?  Or perhaps meals that minimally were not redundant? 

Even if I could pick and choose what I could have done better,  I feel like many of my efforts would still come up short changed.  Inadequate.

It was a day full of numbers... and sometimes, in the hustle and bustle of the day, we lose track and we get a sense that things just don't add up.  We grade ourselves on what we did wrong, what we missed out, what was imperfect.

But, in spite of me...
3+1+4+2+2+7+6+25+15+8+9+18= 100.
Perfect score.

I know my best effort will always be inadequate.  I'm human.  But I also know that if my head and heart are in the right place, God can fill in the gaps and broken parts, and make it all Good.
Or, at least, Good Enough.

Human Touch

Very early this morning, as I awaited the anesthesiologist to come in and poke needles in my neck, I started feeling a little "alone".

For a mother in my position, that's a RARE feeling to experience. 

I was preparing to have a manipulation done on my frozen shoulder, because I still have such limited range of motion following the bigger surgery last March.  Comparatively, this is a dinky little procedure.  I might have achieved similar results had I drank some tequila and catapulted myself off a large jungle gym (as a dear friend had suggested).  I opted for Doctor's assistance and pain medication.

Because Kel stayed home to hold down the fort, Brennan generously agreed to take me.  The nurse encouraged him to stay in the waiting room, and she would call him back to post-op for discharge orders.

And I heard a toddler crying as he was coming out of surgery sleep, and a young boy wailing over having a casted arm, and an elderly woman slipping in and out of consciousness as her husband tried to engage her in conversation.

But in the minute of realizing I was alone, my nurse came in, adjusted my blood pressure cuff, checked my IV drip, smiled at me, and touched my leg.  At that moment I was reminded of the love and sacrifices of my family, and the prayers and assistance of my friends.  At that moment, I felt comforted.

Having SO many children in the house, I take it for granted that I might not one day have grimy fingers offer me a hug and a bouquet of dandelions.  Or that a teen with a set of car keys might not stop a split second for a "goodbye-I'll be home by curfew" hug.  Or a spouse whose hugs don't need anything to accompany them.

Today I could appreciate the implication of how we are all so deeply connected,  especially when a human touch can bring comfort when even family and friends are not present.

I want to be more generous with the way I touch, because we're a lot less alone than we think.

Summer Sounds

Our first official School's-Out night escalated into a bona fide summer kick-off.  Everywhere we went, we seemed to gather up a few more friends, until I realized that we were hosting an additional 3 pre-teens for a sleepover (I hate sleepovers), and taking 8 to see "Letters to Juliet"... a 9:15 pm showing.  Now, THAT's "care-free". 

That's also noisy.  Add to it my 3 daycare additions, and I was flipping pancakes mid-morning amongst quite the hoop-la.

But the loudest and most persistent clamor came from a few new squatters on our property.

About 4 years ago, Kel purchased a couple bird house kits designed for calm and care-free parents to assemble and paint with their children.  Aside from the fact that it's a nice IDEA, I have no clue why he bought these things.  We don't have time to make bird houses, let alone maintain the one WE live in. 

But, it was Christmas time, and we all tend to go a little nutty at Christmas time.

Well, last year Merryn and Andy found the unopened boxes in the basement.  Immediately, they worked with a guilted dad and hammered and glued these simple pieces of wood and created quite the cute little condos.  They hung them in the river birch trees in our front yard, with Merryn commenting that our house colors complemented the bird houses quite nicely.  (She gets that from her dad).

I thought they were decorative, but this year we have residents!  With babies!  And I can hear them over the din of my own children.

It's also fascinating to watch... the momma fluttering out, the babies fussing until she returns with munchies.  My children think it's fascinating too, and have wanted to help. 

At least that's what we THINK they were doing, taking turns with their cousins, standing atop the Little Tykes portable slide, attempting to peer in that little bitty bird house hole, and unsuccessfully feeding the babies by tossing raw eggs inside.

I might have heard the fridge open... if only my kids were a little noisier.

Summer Days

Today is June the first. 

My kids officially have moved beyond kindergarten, third and sixth and eighth grades, and sophomore and senior years.  I'm still recovering from the graduation blow-out that brought family and friends from far and wide, whose presence made the celebration truly wonderful.

However, I found myself this morning knee-deep in kids, some of whom could regularly sleep through lunch.  Can I say how much this cramps my style?

The potential is great:  I could quickly lose perspective, and even my sense of humor (which, admittedly, is not great).  After all, it only took until dinner time for Kel to point out this very fact to me.

So, per his suggestion, I am going to find something to blog about, e-v-e-r-y day...  "something funny, something joyful, something not crabby."

Because we live a big life here, and I don't want to forget that.