Easy Peanut Butter Cookies

I LOVE to bake, and since Alex was little, I would let him help me in the kitchen. He is getting better at pouring and stirring, and I am getting better at living with the mess. Alex can even crack an egg all by himself now! Sure, we have dropped an egg or two along the way, wiped egg all over his shirt and mine, and baked some cupcakes with egg shells, but that is all behind us.

Here is one of my favorite cookie recipes. It is simple with only 4 ingredients, and very kid friendly. I would love to take credit for it, but it is actually Paula Deen's Magical Peanut Butter Cookies. I also like this recipe because for a cookie, it is healthy. Well, it is at least justifiable.

For each batch, you will need:
1 cup of peanut butter
1 cup of sugar
1 egg
1 teaspoon of vanilla

Since I am high maintenance and like to personalize my recipes, I have started adding a pinch of salt. After you mix all ingredients in no particular order, you roll the cookies into small balls and then roll cookie balls in sugar. Then place on an ungreased cookie sheet and squash them with a fork. OR, my personal favorite, roll them into balls, place them on a cookie sheet and squash them with a Hershey's Kiss. You are supposed to preheat the oven to 350, which I always forget. The cookies need to bake for about 12 minutes. I let them cool on the cookie sheet for a few minutes to firm up before I remove them.

The biggest obstacle in this recipe is not allowing your small child to eat the dough, on account of the raw egg. I finally gave up after Alex had eaten about four or five small raw cookie balls. It didn't hurt me growing up, so I hope he will be OK too. You have to pick your battles, right?

Did I mention that the cookies (both baked and unbaked) taste great too?

One Less Kid

We only have two, but sending KID 1 off to Kindergarten has really given me a LOT more time and energy to get stuff done around here. It's amazing what a difference one less kid makes when it comes to home projects! My house is cleaner, more organized, and more "put together" than ever before. I feel like I have a little more time to spend making things work better around here. I'm cleaning out closets, getting rid of excess stuff, planning our menus for the week, and creating "systems" for managing the household. Holy crap! It's like a whole new woman is emerging from the tired, stressed out, weight-gaining, unmotivated, unhealthy old me. And I didn't even realize things had gotten so bad until I could compare the "old me" to the "new me." I just thought I was lazy for the last five years. Wow! I feel so much lighter. 52.5 lbs lighter, in fact.

I guess I had just gotten into a rut. Mostly due to the fact that there are only a limited number of hours in the day, much of them taken up by our two preschoolers. And as you know, staying home with preschoolers is HARD WORK! While I didn't have to change his diapers anymore, or even change wet sheets, or get him dressed, or feed him, our five-year-old required so much of my time and energy to train him, love him, and entertain him. Now that he's spending most of his learning time at school, I feel like I can just relax and have fun with him when he's at home.

I'm able to focus more attention on our little one now, who loves having Mommy all to herself. She started preschool this week, so now I have two mornings a week to work out, do some writing, get my hair cut, go shopping, schedule appointments, or relax, all without having to juggle two kids simultaneously. When I went for my yearly this spring, both kids were with me and they both decided to wear their cowboy boots and hats. "Brought my posse, Doc," I quipped to the doctor as she bustled in to find two cowhands climbing on her stool. It will be so nice to walk into the ob/gyn exam room ALONE!

Don't get me wrong, I LOVE my kids. We have fun together. I didn't even realize how depleted I was until I got some time back for myself. This is the first time I have had daylight hours to myself in over FIVE YEARS! It's great, but I also wouldn't trade these past five years for all the tea in China. I've just entered a new "phase" of mothering, and I have to say, it's fabulous! Like Karly, I didn't shed a single tear when we delivered our little Kindergartner to his teacher on the first day of school. I was ready for the change and so was he.

"Have a great day at school, honey!"

Judging Alex

“Judge not, and ye shall not be judged.” 2 Rachel, 27:12. OK, it’s not really from the book of Rachel, that’s just an inside joke from our Circle Bible Study. The verse actually comes from Matthew 7:1, and as a former gossip girl and judger of many, I have often pretended this verse didn’t apply to me. As I grew up and faced more trials, I learned that my rational actions and decisions probably looked crazy to most people: i.e. crying in airports when I was taking infertility drugs. I now understand that God wants us to leave the judging to him because we cannot possible know enough about other people’s lives to accurately judge them.

I say all of this because I am constantly being judged by strangers. Preschoolers draw attention. It is just a way of life for this time in their lives, and my son Alex seems to draw a lot of attention. Everywhere we go, people know who Alex is because he either strikes up a conversation with any given stranger, or they hear me yell his name as I run after him. Alex lives life to the fullest, and pushes the limits whenever possible. Strangers often see Alex as a child whose parent doesn’t make him mind, but that isn’t reality. I know more about him than anyone else, and most of what I know is kept secret.

Denial is the second stage of grieving, and I have been in this stage for over a year now. Last May, we took Alex to a specialist in Chicago because we had some concerns about a few developmental delays. The short story is this: Alex has some adoption-related special needs. They gave us two diagnoses. One I agree with, and one I wish wasn’t true. They are experts in this field of study, so I am sure they are right, but I like to pretend they aren’t.

I was actually hoping they would tell me he had ADD, which they didn’t. I just wanted someone to tell me that Alex has way more energy than any other child ever. The one diagnosis everyone agrees on is this: Alex has SPD, sensory processing disorder. He is a sensory seeking child, who loves to touch everything and always needs to be moving. He loves running and is in heaven if someone is chasing him. If he doesn’t have anything to do, he will chew on anything close. If nothing is close, he will chew on his fingers. Since I didn’t agree with their other diagnosis, I took Alex to another specialist last winter. She said that Alex does have ADD, but she wouldn’t formally diagnosis that until he is 5 or 6. Our family doctor still believes that there is another diagnosis out there, maybe something on the autism spectrum. I think he is probably right.

In two weeks, Alex will have a screening for preschool. I am going to have to share this with them, and I dread it. I am afraid of two things: What if they say there is nothing wrong with him (and all of the unmentioned challenges we face every day are typical, and it’s all in my head)? OR What if they say he does have special needs (they probably will, but I am still in denial!)? I live with a strange dichotomy: I don’t want Alex to have any letters explaining his behavior, but I don’t want to believe his behaviors are typical.

Here is another paradox. I believe people are judging me based on how my child behaves, but if they knew what I knew, they probably wouldn’t judge him. I don’t want anyone to know about his special needs, but they need to know so they can better understand him. I just think he is so great, and I don’t want anyone to see anything less than I see – a terrifically wonderful “perfect for me” kid.

Stick to the Program!

While spending time here at our summer getaway, we have tried several times to take advantage of some really fun, classic evening activities down on the campus of the YMCA conference center: family sing-alongs, campfires, family art night, game night, and going out for ice cream after dinner (they have really yummy ice cream there!). These activities are geared for families with young children, but they don't start until 7 or 7:30 pm. Which is fine if you're on vacation for just a few days with your family, but we live here all summer.

For us, these events (as fun as they are) just make bedtime absolutely unbearable. The behavior the next day is unspeakable. When our children go past their bedtimes, they seem to catch a second wind and a bratty disposition. They do NOT want to go to bed, even though their regular bedtime was two hours ago! So we're realizing that as great as these activities seem, having the kids stay up past their bedtime is just not worth it. Our kids really, REALLY need their schedules to stay predictable. When things become unpredictable, we all end up unhappy. There is usually yelling or threatening involved, from one or both sides. What a way to end a day, huh?

So we have decided that fireworks are not on our list of "Can't Miss" things this year. The kids marched in the "Shortest 4th in the North Parade" with their children's program groups yesterday. One marched with the "Wee Woozles" and the other marched and hopped with the "Crickets." It was classic! Today we might go visit an historic fort, where they do reenactments and cool activities with the kids. We made homemade vanilla ice cream with the kids yesterday to enjoy on this beautiful 4th of July, complete with homemade hot fudge sauce.

In other words, I'm not going to feel guilty about nixxing the fireworks tonight. Up here in the mountains, it stays light until almost 10:00 at night...firworks begin at 9:30. The display is put on by a town about a 1/2 hour away from us. We are SOOOoooo not doing that with our preschoolers!!!! They will still wake up at 6 am (or earlier) no matter how late they stay up, so we're going to preserve our sanity and stick to the regularly scheduled program. I'm gonna miss seeing those beautiful fireworks, though!

(Correction: I just checked the website and realized fireworks begin at 10PM!...seriously, that is WAY too late!!!!)

Happy 4th of July! How are you celebrating with your little ones?

Because That's the Rule!

It's funny how we "make a rule" for the things we know we want to stick to. Karly's post and the comments that followed it got me thinking about how and why we make rules. Sometimes our motivation is practical: "Last one out shuts the gate!" Sometimes it's for their safety: "Always wear your helmet when you ride your bike or scooter." Sometimes it's for our sanity: "If you're both going to sing, sing the same song!" And sometimes it's purely self-serving, which in the long-run serves the family: "Mommy needs privacy in the bathroom!"

When we actually say with authority that it's a rule, our kids know we feel it's important. Kids appreciate boundaries. They like to know what we expect of them.

That brings me to the subject of consequences. Beyond the baby and early toddler years, natural consequences are fair and appropriate. It's not fair to implement consequences for a behavior if they've never been warned about it before. That also applies to positive consequences. If there is a reward to be earned, they need to know how they can earn it or lose it before they enter a situation. "Kids who stay right with Mommy in the grocery store get a cookie in the bakery when we're done!" If it's a new rule we are trying to establish, they usually want to know why we need the rule. I don't mind telling them the brief reasoning behind it ("to keep you safe"). It helps them make sense of it and to know that we have their best interests in mind.

Dr. Spock says that we should "avoid threats as much as possible. They tend to weaken discipline. It may sound reasonable to say, "If you don't keep out of the street with your bicycle, I'll take it away." But in a sense, a threat is a dare--it admits that the child may disobey. It should impress him more to be firmly told he must keep out of the street, if he knows from experience that his parents mean what they say. On the other hand, if you see that you may have to impose a drastic penalty like taking away a beloved bike for a few days, it's better to give fair warning. It certainly is silly, and quickly destroys all a parent's authority, to make threats that aren't ever carried out or that can't be carried out. "

Now, when I read the threat he gave as an example, my teacher alarm bells started ringing. Both parts of the statement are very negative. Instead of saying, "If you don't keep out of the street with your bicycle, I'll take it away," it would be better with a positive slant: "Keep your bike on the driveway or you'll have to park it." I remember reading somewhere that you don't want to make every consequence something that you'll do to them. Rather, you put the ball in their court and make their consequences something they choose for themselves with their poor choices. "Keep your hands to yourself, or you'll have to sit on time out."

I'm not saying I have this discipline thing down pat, but these are the things I try to keep in mind when I'm dealing with kid behaviors I don't like. What are some of your indisputable family rules?

One of Those Moms

I am one of those moms. Strike that, I wanted to be one of those moms. You know them. You've rolled your eyes at them, or maybe you've even started out as one yourself. MY CHILD was not going to watch TV. MY CHILD was never going to eat a McDonald's cheeseburger, and certainly not their french fries. I started out strong: I painted clouds on his nursery ceiling, bought a super spiffy food processor that could basically get juice out of a turnip, prewashed all of his clothes in Dreft, and then hung them on the clothes line to dry. I had grand visions of making cookies from scratch and then cutting them out and icing them. We would build entire villages or maybe a to scale size of Noah's Ark with the actual Bible in front of us for our blue print. What a great lesson for a preschooler! Then, I was handed a child.

I think that God was actually laughing out loud at me as he watched how this would play out. He knew that he would be handing me, the eternally nervous, uptight, Type A, accountant mom a squirming, charismatic, energetic baby boy. I fell in love with Alex at first sight. It was an instant, head over heals love for this child. I cannot imagine my life without him, but I am so far away from my comfort zone that I wouldn't recognize it if it knocked on my door. My child says hi to every stranger. Wait, there are no strangers to him. I, on the other hand, am super excited to greet someone AFTER they have said hi to me. I have to play it safe. Do they know me? Are they glad to see me first? Never mind the obvious safety factors of talking let alone hugging total strangers!

And I have news for you, my dear Florida friends. This is me relaxed. You should have seen me when we first got home. A lot of my reservations were left in Russia. We were in Russia at the height of the Bird Flu outbreak, and yet we were so tired of eating CBAPPO pizza. (CBAPPO is actually Sbarro Pizza in the Cyrillic alphabet.) We finally gave in and ate Roastix Chicken, and it was delicious. At least I would have died happy. Against my better judgement, I also bought a pastry from a street vendor, and it was some of the best food I have ever eaten in my life. My judgement might have been skewed by the sample shot of Vodka I tried in that gift shop, but what happens in Russia, stays in Russia, right? Several more of my mom rules were lost somewhere over the Atlantic on our flight home, and I have been loosing them almost daily ever since.

My grandiose ideas have also been laid to rest. Being the Type A personality that I am, I usually have a Martha Stewart vision for every project I start. Many times, I build the idea up so much in my head, that I am too overwhelmed to even start the project. In MOPS last week, Miriam warned us against living by her philosophy that, "Anything worth doing was worth overdoing." Amen Sister!

So, last year of Alex and I tried decorating Easter Eggs for the first time. I was so excited. I had been waiting to do this (and building it up in my head) with my child for about seven years even though Alex was only three. You should have seen the eggs I envisioned.

The eggs were boiled and cool. I had carefully put our art table cloth on the table, set out the mugs - one for each color. I measured the vinegar and laid out all of the tablets by each mug. I had one metal egg scoop for each of us. I am sure I had thought of some way to incorporate Jesus's death and resurrection into idle chit chat while coloring, but oops, I forgot the drying tray. "Here Alex, just sit here while Mommy goes to the kitchen. Don't put those tablets in your mouth." Walk, walk, walk..."Alex, what did you do? Where is the green...? OH NO!!!!!!"

I am pretty sure I cried, but not because I was concerned about my child's safety. I was mourning the death of yet another vision. I should be numb to it by now. Preschoolers do not operate on a Mom's MO. I was pretty sure he was safe, but for good measure, I did call poison control, AGAIN. For the record, all of my calls to them have been fine, and Alex has never had to take the dreaded syrup of ipecac. Here is a photo of him after we rinsed out his mouth. You can still see a little green if you look closely. I should have taken a before photo. Isn't he cute?

In closing, I must tell you that CVS has their Easter Egg Coloring Kits on sale this Sunday and Monday. Thanks, Rachel for the tip. A year has passed, and both of our wounds have healed. Actually, I think Alex thought the whole thing was funny. Nevertheless, I think we are ready to try this again.

Serpent in the Freezer Section: Motivated by a Guilty Conscience

Wow...it's been so long since my last post, I feel like I should go to confession. Bless me, Father, for I have neglected my Motley blog. It has been 14 days since my last post...and I confess that guilt is sometimes my only motivator.

Like when my kids are practically clawing at my pajamas to take them outside to play: read in a high-pitched, urgent whine - "If we don't go out now, we won't have time to play before lunch, Mommeeee!"

Occassionally I need this guilt trip to get my teeth brushed, my shoes on, and my pajamas hung on their peg...okay, thrown in their heap by the bed...jeez, I must have something gnawing on my conscience!

Today (actually written Friday) is just "one of those days." I've had a couple of slow days this week, but nothing that involved pajamas past 8 AM. Today is an exception. Our little one is sick with a cold, so we had nowhere to go and nothing to do on our agenda today. It's been kinda nice, actually. Besides the constant whining to go outside.

I shopped online while the kids played in each other's rooms, occasionally refereeing a squabble when she threw a book at his head, or he pinned her behind the recliner by jacking the arm up and kicking the chair back at just the right moment...ahhhh, yeah. The slow days.

Back to the guilt as motivator topic, I swore I'd never use guilt to get what I want from someone else. Somehow, though, whenever I say that out loud, my husband gets this big smirk on his face...hmmmm. But now I seem to be using it against myself!

We're both trying to cut back on sweets. We have a bad habit of indulging in late-night desserts. Super-Premium ice cream is our weakness. We almost NEVER pass by a Ben & Jerry's scoop shop in our travels without stopping for a hand-dipped cone (B&J's are more common in the North East. We make the pilgrimmage to their Vermont factory every summer. Who can resist free super-premium ice cream?).

Anyway, Ben & Jerry's was on sale this week 2 pts. for $6. That's pretty good, considering that it almost never goes on sale. I am proud and bitterly disappointed to say I resisted temptation. Mostly for Paul's sake, but whatever works, right? I figured I would just feel really guilty for bringing home the forbidden fruit to my poor, weak Adam. I guess the grocery store is the Garden in this scenario and the sale ad is that wily serpent. So if I continue the biblical metaphor a bit, I resisted Satan in the frozen food aisle this week. Go Me!

If my guilty conscience is the only thing steeling me against temptation, then I guess my mom knew what she was doing when she sent me on all those guilt trips. Thanks, Mom!

Tick-Tick-Tick-Tick...Brrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrring!!!! - All the Ways I Love My Timer

I love my Big Timer. Its uses go beyond the typical timeout session or cooking project. Our timer is a motivator, a time-saver, and a non-negotiator. I've decided it's a device I simply can't live without! I also have a Timex digital watch with a timer...it's great, too!

Here are a few ways we use the timer around here:

1. Bathroom Monitor: I've mentioned our son's propensity to linger in the bathroom, water running, for upwards of an hour. To curtail these little bathroom binges, I brought the timer into the bathroom, set it for 5 minutes, and invited him to "race the timer!" He loves a challenge, so this worked great. Some kids may need additional incentive to beat the clock (M&Ms, stickers, extra time at the park) or consequences (timeout, lose some playtime, do a job - the bathroom usually needs straightening after they've been in there too long, so let them clean it up!) A timer can also help during teeth-brushing. I'm considering getting a timer dedicated to the kids' bathroom!


2. Cleanup Countdown: The kids love racing the timer during cleanup. I set the timer for 3 minutes and we race around, putting things away and picking up trash. If they are good workers, at the end of 3 minutes they earn one M&M and we set the timer again. Even our 2-year-old loves this method of cleaning!


3. Centertime Sentry: I often set the timer during playtime for 15-20 minutes. At the end of that time, the kids clean up their area and find something else to do. If they're really playing nicely and want more time, I give it to them, but more often than not, they're ready to try something new when the timer rings. It's really just a reminder to clean up their mess before moving on.
4. Quiet Time: I set my digital timer for 55 minutes every day for our 5-year-old's quiet time. He doesn't take a regular nap anymore, but we all need a break from each other after lunch and storytime. Our 2-year-old naps, I like to put my feet up and read or sometimes nap, and our 5-year-old is required to lay still and quiet until his timer beeps. He usually prepares a huge stack of books for his quiet time, but only gets about halfway through them before he's snoozing! If he's still awake when the timer beeps, he can get up and play quietly.
5. Computer Timer: For those of you with kids old enough to play on the computer or video gaming systems, the timer can help you set limits for your child and stick to them.
6. Potty Training Timer: I love my Timex digital watch. It reminds me to get my toddler to the bathroom. I call it my "potty watch." I'm very forgetful and it's so easy to simply forget that my toddler is wearing underwear and needs to go potty. While they're learning, they don't always identify their urge to go, so getting them to sit on the potty every 25 minutes or so can help in the early stages of potty training. This is another good use for a bathroom timer, especially for the resistant toddler: set it for 2 minutes. If she hasn't done anything after 2 minutes, but you know it should be about time for her to go, let her try again in 10-15 minutes.

Any other great uses for your timer?

Hands-On Lent for Preschoolers: The Resurrection Cross

This is our son, then age 4, making his resurrection cross last year for Lent. We made a big batch of white playdough, then colored a few balls of dough for decoration. I let him fashion the cross, cut the hearts with a cookie cutter, and recreate the scene as he saw fit.

There is a candle for each week, but it's done in reverse of the Advent wreath, extinguishing a candle for each week leading to Good Friday. I think we lit the whole cross each week, then blew out the appropriate number of candles until Good Friday, when all the candles were extinguished. Jesus died on the cross, and the world was plunged into darkness. On Easter Sunday, all the candles were lit again, representing Christ's resurrection and the Light of the World.

The colorful lumps around the bottom of the cross were the people who shouted mean things to Jesus, according to our son. His four-year-old interpretation of the crucifixion scene brought tears to my eyes. The crown of thorns at the top was his idea, as well as the red (pink) hearts where Jesus' hands were nailed to the cross.

We'll definitely be repeating this tradition this Lenten season. For older kids, perhaps they could give something up for each candle they extinguish, one per week, lending lots of opportunities to talk about Christ's ultimate sacrifice. His love was so great, He gave up His life for us.

How do you learn about or celebrate this religious season with your kids?

Preschoolers vs. Teenagers

I'm really scared, ladies. I mean it. And here's why: I don't think we've even touched on the difficult years of parenting yet. There. I've said it. I'm not saying it's been easy so far; it hasn't. In fact, I had no idea how hard parenting was before I had kids. The first couple of months are a nightmare - no sleep, spit-up, poop shooting out at a high velocity, endless laundry, nursing, not feeling like you have any idea what you're doing...then toddlerhood comes with temper tantrums and childproofing everything and learning the word, "No!" Throw in stomach viruses, sibling rivalry, and potty training, and it ain't easy, folks. I've been having a particularly rough time with Ethan lately. He is so defiant! This morning he had to go to preschool and he refused to eat breakfast. He kicked me when I picked him up to take him to the kitchen after he flopped down on the couch and refused to move. We were running late and I hate to be late. I told him to go potty and when I went to check on him he was just standing in the hall. Then after he peed he refused to pull up his pants. Then he refused to wash his hands. Then he refused to get his teeth brushed. It was an endless battle. I am still so keyed up I think I could go running, and I hate running. 

But here's the kicker: We haven't gotten to the hard part yet. 

I know this because I have friends with teenagers. One of my friends at tae kwon do was telling us last night that he had to take the computer away from his 13-year-old daughter because she spent 14 hours straight on it. Didn't go to bed till 4:30 in the morning. He told her the limit was now 30 minutes and she openly defied him and stayed on for an hour. Then he caught her telling her mom, "I can't stand him! I don't want to listen to anything he says!" My other good friend recently found out her 16-year-old son has been smoking marijuana with his friends. She discovered this by reading comments on his MySpace. She had her husband go to the high school, check him out, and take him to get drug tested. She met them at the lab and cried through the whole ordeal. These are not "bad" kids. They make good grades, their parents are very involved in their lives, they excel at sports, they have a lot of friends, they go to church, etc. And they were punished for their actions. It's not like they thought they wouldn't be. The girl can't use the computer for 2 weeks and the boy lost his car, cell phone, MySpace password (his mom changed it and won't tell him the new one - isn't that awesome?), and privileges. I have one more friend who has a 15-year-old daughter who likes to go to the movies just so she can make out with boys. She is a good girl and all they do is kiss, but still! The thought of my sons kissing girls in a dark movie theater absolutely freaks me out. I hope they're afraid of girls until they're 25. Don't even ask what I would do if I found out my kids were using drugs or drinking. Because the answer is: I. Have. No. Idea.

So this post is a shout-out to my friends with teenagers. I know you like to laugh at me with my "problems" - potty training, the baby arching his back so I can't buckle him into his car seat, and stepping on Cheerios every time I enter the kitchen. Here's to you and your teenagers - to getting high, IMing until you're blind, and making out with boys. I'm afraid I have no idea how hard it's about to get!

I Am Woman, Hear Me...Whimper

I rarely EVER ask for help. That's not a bragging right, it's more a confession. Convincing myself and others that I can do it all is really not good for anyone. Especially me. I am not superwoman. There. I said it.

It's not good for my daughter to see me striving to do all and be all...what kind of precedent am I setting here? I want my kids to know that it's okay to ask for help. Or to accept help when it's offered.

A friend of mine recently offered to take my kids to the park to give me a little break for an hour or so. She had noticed how tired, stressed and generally underwhelmed I have been lately and generously offered her time in order to give me some time for myself. I was extremely reluctant to accept this help. Why? I guess I've fallen under the delusion that I can handle it all, all the time. I'm home with my kids all day and I'm used to doing everything with them in tow.

Everything except taking time for myself. Writing. Reflecting. Relaxing. Praying. Creating. Very little creativity happens for me if my kids are around. I just can't put my thoughts together enough to generate a creative work when I can hear my kids pounding around the house and yelling at each other. Not possible.

So I forced myself to accept my sweet friend's offer (fully intending to reciprocate somehow for her) and I am looking forward to a morning's hour alone. Wow! To be alone in my own home? I don't think that has happened on a weekday in years. I can't decide what to do first: take a quiet shower? A nap? Start working on character and setting for my currently very short work of fiction? Go for a jog? Make a fresh pot of coffee and surf the net? Clean the house? (probably not that one)...but the possibilities are dizzying!

Maybe I'll start with a shower, have a little chat with God, and then go from there...Thank you, God, for friends who help to brush aside the brambles that grow over this little light of mine. Amen.

Dollhouse Horror Flick In the Making: Why it's good to let boys play with dollhouses

I fear our daughter will never play with dolls the way most little girls do...not with her big brother modeling such interesting scenarios as this, the ultimate clash of Christmas presents:





And the close up:

Yikes!

Light It Up! Our Advent Wreath

On the eve of the first Sunday of the Advent season, I am reflecting on this "Great Light" God shone upon us when he gave to us his only Son, his Prince of Peace. I've read Isaiah 9: 1-7, which has gotten me into an anticipatory mood.

I'm one of those who doesn't have a clue what anyone is talking about when they reference scripture. I have to actually hear the words or read them, then I realize I've read it enough times that I should know it, but I just don't remember the reference. Isaiah 9: 1-7 is the one that starts, "The people who walked in darkness have seen a great light..."

How can we make this light shine in our home, upon our family during this busy holiday season? Kids love candles. They especially love blowing them out after watching the flame dance around a few tentative test puffs from across the table. Cause and effect in action. The Light is what it's all about, so I'm thinking I need to fashion an Advent wreath, with one candle for each of the four weeks leading up to Christmas, then a fifth to light on Christmas Eve, symbolizing the birth of Jesus, the light of the world. Nothing fancy. Just five tapers or pillar candles, set in a circle on the table with some greenery.

I think lighting the Advent candle each night at dinner will be an opportunity to reinforce the true meaning of the season. Even if all they get out of it right now is "Jesus is the light of the world," this will become an important and expected part of Advent, helping them see the growing light leading up to Jesus' birth.

So as we "green the house" this week, preparing our hearts and our home for this ultimate birthday celebration, I think we'll add some extra greenery to the table for our Advent wreath.

For ideas about how to use color in your Advent wreath and other general Advent information, go here.

This blog gives lots of ideas for making a wreath, along with great photos of her family's homemade Advent wreath and the symbolism of the things they used to adorn it.

Ethanisms

Today my son locked me out of the house. They were both in the kitchen and I went outside just for a minute to get the recycling buckets. I said, "Ethan, do not play with the door. Mommy will be right back." Then he locked it. Go ahead, laugh. I could see Micah through the window, cracking up in the high chair. I would've laughed, too, if I would've seen myself banging on the door, yelling, "ETHAN JAMES YOU OPEN THIS DOOR RIGHT NOW!" I'll admit it- I lost it when he finally did open the door. I gave him a spanking and a time-out. Ethan has been right squirrelly this week. After a month of being sick, he's had a course of antibiotics and is feeling much better. The following are a few of the funny things he's said recently. I call them "Ethanisms" and I'm making a list.

While taking a bath: "Mommy, sit potty. Mommy, you sit on big white oval."
Daddy asks, "Ethan, do you want to wear your Wall-E shoes or your Lightning McQueen shoes?" Ethan's response, "I no wear shoes. I wear Ethan feet!"
"Daddy run naked!" No explanation needed.
From the den, to me on the other side of the house, "MOMMY I WATCH ROBIN HOOD DADDY TURN ON ROBIN HOOD FOR ME DADDY GOOD MAN YOU NOT MAN YOU LADY!" All one sentence.
"Kota [our pet cat] can't dance. Kota a kitty. Kitties don't dance."
On the phone to my friend Erica, "I watching Thomas. I probably see a silly engine."
"It dark in my shirt!"
"I want another big cookie!"
And the kicker:
"Ethan, did you toot?" my friend Lori asks. "No! I don't toot. My mommy toots."
Thanks, Buddy.

Have a Phenoneum Day

"Mommy, I'm gonna try with all my heart and all my muscles

to be a good boy and have a phenoneum day."

Me, too, buddy. Me, too.

Discovering Fall Through Her Eyes

"Every leaf speaks bliss to me, fluttering from the autumn tree."

-Emily Bronte

It Must Be In The Genes

Growing up, I was that child who would say those dreaded words..."I'm bored." I am still that child (just in a much taller, ahem, bigger body). Here I go, I confess...I constantly am catching cabin fever. I constantly am anxiously seeking to just get out of the house and do. (Do what, often I don't care, but just do.)

Well I have learned how to deal with this cabin fever sickness I catch so often. Now as a mother I am learning how to deal with the genes my kids so kindly inherited from me. Both of my kids are chronically sick...with cabin fever.

Tonight my husband walked in the door and said, "who wants to go outside?" Before I could even turn around, both of my kids were standing at the door, pawing to get out.

It was like seeing our black lab standing at the door after a long day in her crate. I don't think my kids cared what we did, we just had to do!