With New Resolve

Well, the new year is upon us. The family is sleeping off the effects of a late night while I sit in the kitchen listening to the clock tick 2011 off second by second.

I usually greet each new year with a list of resolutions, quietly made, quietly broken. The list is pretty much the same every year-eat better, exercise more, get up earlier, keep the house cleaner, have a consistent Bible study time, get a novel written, spend more time with the kids...

I read a blog the other day suggesting that instead of making goal-oriented resolutions, we focus more on the internal motivation. Why do I want to get up earlier? How do I want to feel about myself and the way I live?

A list of resolutions, all in adjectives. It changes the focus from what I have to do to how I ought to be.

Content
Positive
Healthy
Loving
Wise
Effective

What about you?

Protecting My Future

Our family runs on a four month dry erase calendar.

If it's on the calendar, it'll get done.

If it's not on the calendar, it'll never get done.

Every day is scribbled full of all our activities. Tomorrow, for example, reads:

Guitar
Art
Haircut
French
Ortho (dontist)
youth group

Usually, I rotate the months every several weeks. Not this month, though. The writing on the wall runs July 1-October 31. It's time to erase and start again. I'm enjoying the illusion that the next four months stretch out empty before us, though I know it's just an illusion.

If you want me to do something with you or for you, be sure I check my calendar first. I've been known to double and triple book myself.

What's on your calendar today?

Ask a random question. Get a random answer.

Q: What should I blog about?

A: Cheez-its.

Uh ...

Too Many Oranges

This is our first week of school. It's usually a very busy time of getting books organized, pencils sharpened, and routines established.

Not this year. This year, it seems, is the year of too many oranges, all up in the air at once with no hope that any of them will be caught. I blame it on my crashed computer. My brain is in there. Meanwhile we're sharing a computer that spontaneously restarts several times a day and that only charges if you hold your tongue right.

Day 1 -

The older kids get up and do science and math on their own. Done by 10. Hmmm... maybe they need to do more work each day.

Science, math, handwriting and history for the little one. Check.

Field trip to a life-sized replica of the tabernacle. Interesting setup. Heavy emphasis on prophecy.

Make chocolate chip cookies as per 1st day of school tradition. Double the recipe, but quadruple the number of eggs. Messy, but they taste great.

Day 2 -

The older kids are done by 9:30. I help them do a science experiment to prove something they insist they already know. Send them back to do more work. Done by 10:30. I really need to get their other subjects ready.

Little one does a science experiment. Decides it's taking too long to get to the human body part of the book. Can't we just skip the history of anatomy? History, handwriting, an errand or two that turns into 5. Tears over still having math to do when the neighbor kids have early release day.

Day 3 -

Older kids done by 10. Really? I've GOT to get them more work to do.

Little one gets her own breakfast--a victory! I let her use the calculator to do math, not that it's any help. When did they start teaching algebra to 3rd graders? She draws a pretty good picture of a cell, plays a song on the piano and recorder (history activity).

All 3 jump into Grandma's car at 10 to learn canasta. I get 3 hours of quiet. Ahhh.

Bible project with all 3 in the afternoon, then some other stuff I can't recall. Nagging feeling that I'm forgetting something. Huh.

Little one goes out to practice roller blading. I work a little on 6 different projects I've committed to. Do some grocery shopping. Get a note that we missed the little one's Awana class tonight. I knew I was forgetting something. Write it on the calendar for next week.

At nearly 11, I say to myself, "What time is it?" and 2 kids answer me. Must establish school year bedtime better.

Maybe next week. Next week we'll be organized.

Hush! Can You Hear It?

The kids are in bed.

The hubby is reading.

The lamp is dimmed.

The only sound I hear is the gentle tapping of my fingers on the keyboard.

And even that is about to be silenced...

You Can't Get There from Here

When they say "you can't get there from here," they're talking about downtown Portland. As we got into the car, I said it out loud...as a joke. That was before I drove the scenic tour of Portland, forced ever further from my destination by signs that read,

NO TURNS
BUS ONLY
ONE WAY
NO TURN ON RED
LEFT ONLY
NO LEFT TURN
ROAD WORK AHEAD
LEFT LANE CLOSED

You get the idea. The poor people I was driving around must have thought I just dropped in from another planet. Obviously, I didn't know any of the local customs. I can understand having one way streets in a city. I can even understand dedicating 2 of the 3 lanes to bus and MAX lines. I don't understand why, when there are only 2 2-way streets, you can't turn off of one and you can't turn onto the other.

It was a wonder, but we actually made it to OMSI, Powells (I forgot my gift card. Guess I'll have to go again), and McMennamins, and back to the train station before their train was leaving.

Quite the 2 hours. Thanks for the adventure!

Encore!

Once in a while, as I'm plugging through life trying to get the necessaries done, I get to check off something on my "bucket list." For me, that list of things I want to do before I die includes a lot of big ticket items--travel to foreign lands, learning other languages, getting a doctorate, making a difference in the lives of the people I meet.

Once in a while, an experience comes along that's so simple, so pure, I never would have thought to put it on my list. But as soon as it happens, I know it was supposed to be there, to experience that moment and to feel just a little more alive.

4 minutes. Me, my violin student and a room full of strangers.

And Itzhak Perlman playing the Theme from Schindler's List. No microphones or amplifiers, just the pure, sweet notes of the master violist telling the story of his people through his art.

4 minutes well-spent.

Encore.

Resolutions

When we moved back to America, we made two resolutions as a family.

1) We promised ourselves we wouldn't get involved in too many activities, especially at night.

2) We determined not to let discussions of how the church should or should not be, or how Christians should or should not act, overshadow talking about Jesus.

Time to assess our success or failure...

1) It's hard to live in America with kids and not get involved in some evening activities. All in all, though, we're home about as many nights as we're out. Now I need to re-resolve to make sure our time at home is used wisely, but I can't make that resolution until this round of the Amazing Race and Survivor are over.

2) This is a toughie. I spend a lot of my energy fretting about how to change situations and people I have no control over. I let myself fall into less challenging conversations with people I know will mostly agree with me. It's time to refocus my words on important topics. It's time to hand over the stuff I can't change and let God work his wonders without my help.

8:37

I have a thing about time warps, like the one we have to walk through to get from house to car that makes us exactly 3 minutes behind schedule everywhere we go.

Today's time warp comes from my computer's internal clock. It's the warp that occurs between 8:36 and 8:37. In the nano second it takes for the clock to switch over, my whole body goes through a sort of time travel of its own.

8:36 is my time, early morning quiet time after the husband is gone to work and before the kids are my responsibility.

8:36 is the same as 8:00 and 8:30.

8:37, though, is almost 9 o'clock. Time to kick things into gear. Time to make sure everyone's dressed and ready to start read aloud time in a few minutes.

Like the jarring feeling you get from a car with bad transmission when it shifts from 1st to 2nd, that's what 8:37 feels like to me.

Growing Up

One of my daughters had her first babysitting job tonight. The other has her first gig tomorrow. I lay awake last night wondering if I'd given them all the tools they need to handle the situations that will come up. Probably not. How am I possibly going to cram all the experience, wisdom and knowledge into them with the little time I have left? What if they're missing some huge piece of the puzzle? What if I forgot to tell them how to dial 9-1-1 or to wash behind their ears? What if they can't discern who to trust and who to avoid? 

What if? What if? Growing up is hard, but letting someone else grow up may be even harder.

Maybe I Do Need to Get a Life

A friend posted a list of movies on Facebook and said, "If you've seen at least 85 of these movies, you don't have a life."

You know me. I couldn't resist filling out the form. It didn't take long to see that the list was heavy with horror flicks, sci-fi, and chick flicks. Guess which ones I've seen.

Who decides that 85 is the cut-off? Is the person who's seen only 84 of the movies busy and fulfilled while the guy who's seen 86 is a schlub who sits on the couch with his beer and popcorn and can't bother to pick up his own kleenex. If he even uses kleenex.

About half way through the list, I was thinking... 

If you fill out this form, you might not have a life. ( no offense.)

A third of the movies I've seen because my husband wanted to see them. A third because my kids wanted to see them. And then there's the rest.

And, no, I haven't seen 85 of them. So I must have a life. I MUST!

Oktober Already?

Christmas toys show up in the stores in August. Halloween sales start soon after. And Easter starts on Valentine's Afternoon.

Now it seems they've moved all the local Oktoberfests to the middle of September.

I'm sorry. I can't celebrate Oktober when I'm still picking peas from my garden.

Time flies fast enough. Why do we have to rush it?

Time Flows Downhill

Like a snowball that starts at the top of a hill and gains speed as it grows and descends, time seems to accelerate as it rolls along.

For those of you marking time with me, my twins will turn 13 tomorrow. I think my pregnancy with them lasted longer than this whole 13 years. I want to hold back the clock. I want to deny that their time at home is more than 2/3 done, that in 2 years they'll be begging for their driving permits, that they might be taller than I am any day (I know - no big accomplishment!).

I want to dig my heels in and slow time down, but I know it doesn't work that way.

I wonder if Methuselah thought the last 300 years of his life flew by in a wink. I wonder if Adam said, "I'm 412... no, wait. Make that 422. I lost count."

I wonder if Jessica will wish away being 13 in order to land on 14, her ideal year. She wants to be 14 forever.

Don't we all.

Total Loss

A quick update for those who asked about me and my car. Yesterday, the other guy's insurance company called to say they're declaring my car a total loss.

A total loss.

What a sad phrase. We're trying to work through our insurance to renegotiate a settlement that will be enough to replace this van (that I was planning to drive for another ten years or so).

But I'll tell you what has really been a total loss...

My week.

I've spent more time with insurance agents, car rental lots, body shop guys and mechanics, advice nurses and chiropractors than I ever care to again. Even conversations with friends go something like this:

"I'm so sorry your fish died and/or your house was robbed and/or your children are in juvie. Did I tell you they're totalling my car?"

Besides all that phone time, I've lost a week's worth of work. With the older kids farmed out, I had planned to get a ton of writing done.

I've written two pages.

And they're not that good.

So, as you can see, I not feeling very Pollyanna-ish right now. Honestly, I know this isn't the worst situation in the world. It's just an inconvenience (or as Barb reminds me, a light and momentary trial).

Still...

The More Things Change...

I was one of the youngest in my class. I think Mark and Amy were the only two with birthdays after mine. But this year has been an endless succession of congratulations on 40th birthdays on my class email loop.

At what point did I realize my mortality? Was it when the lady who used to come to my door begging for food died of AIDS? When I drove Suzanne's father to the hospital in the morning and drove his body to the village the same afternoon? When I listened to my father deliver one of several eulogies he's done lately? The dear people who did so much for us in helping us get to Africa are finishing their lives.

And time marches on. The children become the parents and then the grandparents. The baby grows taller than her mother. The world winds down and we look beyond.

I'm feeling melancholy tonight, thinking about loved ones who fight for life, who yearn for health, who long for home.

happiness is...

...a good book.

...a good friend.

...a hot drink.

...a new mug.

...and a warm puppy.

Herding Ping-Pong Balls

Picture this:

3 kids and a mom who are tired of winter and especially thrown off by its sudden and insistent return this week.

Add 1 dog and 2 birds.

That's normal life.

Now add 2 chihuahua puppies who are terrified half the time and barking ferociously the other half.

Now add some extra kids: 4 boys and 2 girls, a closet full of games, a basketball, an X-box, and a pizza assembly line.

Remember that it's April Fool's Day and the funniest joke EVER is ringing the doorbell and running away.

Maybe it's more like herding hand grenades than ping-pong balls. Either way, I think God was smart to not give me a dozen kids. When the phone rang at the same time the doorbell rang and the dogs ran underfoot, I finally understood how the Calgon lady always felt.

Truth be told, though, I don't know how she kept all those kids out of the bathroom.

*I can't take credit for the title today. Kudos to either Mike or Geoffrey for this apt image.

Can't Wait!

The month of December always dragged by. Now it seems to zoom past. 2008 is already a quarter done and I'm still writing 2004 on my checks.

Some things were hard to wait for as a kid - Christmas, Birthday, Summer Vacation. "I can't wait!" I'd declare.

"Yes, you can. And you will." That was Dad's wisdom. He was right.

Now I find the things I'm waiting for a little less pleasant. I wait in line at the grocery store. I wait for results to come back from the lab on blood tests.

And today... I wait to hear from an agent. I just dropped my book proposal in the mail and already I'm eager to hear back. "Expect to hear from us in 6-8 weeks," they say.

6-8 weeks? That's as long as I used to have to wait for my order to come from Montgomery Ward. (Not quite as long ago as the Wells Fargo Wagon, but close!)

My daughter ordered something the other day. The instructions read like this:

• Fill out appropriate forms.
• Send in envelope provided (no postage necessary if mailed in the US)
• Wait impatiently for 3-4 weeks.

I think I'll wait impatiently for 6-8 weeks. I can do that.

The Late Bird

I stay up too late. Call it a character flaw, a bad habit, a craving for quiet time once everyone's in bed, but I'm rarely asleep before midnight.

And try as I might, I can never seem to wake up as early as I intend. This morning, I didn't hear the alarm, or my husband get out of bed.

I also missed the meteor that blazed across the skies of Washington, Oregon and Idaho. That would have been cool.

On a much less cool note, I did see the descending spy satellite make its steady, boring way across the sky last night. And I'll be out tomorrow evening to get a look at the lunar eclipse.

But, shucks, I wish I'd been up early enough to see a fireball blast past.

October?

One month down, eight to go until summer vacation. What happened to September? It trickled away in a flurry of soccer shoes, museum visits, and math tests. "We'll start that later" turns to "We should have started that by now," and time moves on.

October.

The month of pumpkins and corn, of hay and falling leaves. The month of apple pies and candy corn and wind. I know March has a reputation, but October's wind has something to say, too.

last october