Okay, so it has been a while. We have been journeying and trying to live life. A cause that is dear to my heart has been under some intense pressure and I have been spending most of my time translating articles in a variety of languages to understand some of the deeper societal issues.
While all of that has been going on, I, of course, have been keeping up on a variety of blogs and recommendations. I found this site that struck my fancy as a bibliophile who loves to travel: Around the World in 80 Books. Hmmm. I think I can do that!
Our wonderful book club, unofficially titled "The Reading Makes You Smarter Book Club," has spent much of the past year in fictional England, with a stop here or there in Non-fiction, or France (at least twice). Is it that educated women of a certain age love to reread Jane Austen and the Brontes? I do enjoy the club but I am going to challenge myself with the "around the world" theme.
Providentially, I had birthday money, and a trip through the hallowed aisles of Costco brought me face to face with an author I kept hearing of, from a country I love. And so my first stop around the world is...
MOROCCO: Secret Son, by Laila Lalami
The story is intriguing. There are many strands of Moroccan life that may not be as accessible to those who have not lived there or are not as familiar with the ins and outs of a country with its roots in Africa, watered by Islam and with the winds of Europe waving its palm fronds. Layers of secrecy over the course of many years, and the recurring dream and theme of becoming a famous actor, are artfully arranged in the struggle of Youssef to determine his identity in a time of despair.
Now that I have begun my journey, I am off to another land.
10 May 2010
02 March 2010
We are on a quest
Took the Elf to register for preschool yesterday. She just amazes me with her spark and wit. I discussed some of her quirks with the director (who happens to go to my church). And I realize what a major gift I have been given in that the preschool allows children and grandchildren of church members to register first (thanks, Nana and Grandpa and Helen and Rosemary and all my relatives who have been attending that church since the 1930s! Good job!).
So we spend some time listening to a story in the classroom she might attend. My friend, fellow member of our church, member of book club and director of Preteen's drama group is the helper in there (don't you love small towns?). She asks Elf to go look on the wall at the display of a large paper volcano and trees.
Friend: "What do you see on the wall?"
Elf: "Wow. I have never been to the jungle before!"
Friend: "What else do you see?"
Elf: "Look! They have brachiosaurs and pteranadons and triceratops!"
It is sometimes so hard to not be proud of this kid and her vocabulary.
She seemed a little bit shy yesterday, which, if you know her, is just downright weird. LEast shy kid on the planet. She has had non-mommy time previously. She was attending the same home-based daycare that my nieces attended until January of this year. This allowed her to play with other kids and learn some things at "school" while mommy homeschooled big sister and worked. A few times she has recently told me that "when you used to drop me off at {her} house, I would cry and be sad because I missed you so much!" So of course I have questions and doubts about her going to preschool.
This leads me to revisit major questions like - why do I homeschool, anyway? What is my educational philosophy and how does sending her to preschool fit with this? Preteen attended preschool on two continents in three languages, mostly as daycare but it was fun to see her learn. I think there are definitely lessons she will learn at preschool that are beneficial... also some that aren't so much. I am definitely praying and asking for guidance in making this decision. Facing 7th grade homeschool with Preteen next year helps nudge me toward the easier choice. Knowing that Elf is a very bright handful and has made it difficult, to say the least, to get through this year also is a nudge.
This morning she marched over to me while we were getting ready to go out and announced, "I am on a quest, Mom." Well, yes, indeed we are on a quest. With a 3 year old I had to ask a couple of times what she was saying - you can never tell if speech and language development is making it hard to pronounce her R's or, oh my word, she really DID just announce that she was on a quest. So we will continue the quest for the right answers for her education, just as we did several years ago with the Preteen.
Maybe we'll run into a magical lady who will hand us some special tools to help us through the journey? Or is that too much Tolkein??
So we spend some time listening to a story in the classroom she might attend. My friend, fellow member of our church, member of book club and director of Preteen's drama group is the helper in there (don't you love small towns?). She asks Elf to go look on the wall at the display of a large paper volcano and trees.
Friend: "What do you see on the wall?"
Elf: "Wow. I have never been to the jungle before!"
Friend: "What else do you see?"
Elf: "Look! They have brachiosaurs and pteranadons and triceratops!"
It is sometimes so hard to not be proud of this kid and her vocabulary.
She seemed a little bit shy yesterday, which, if you know her, is just downright weird. LEast shy kid on the planet. She has had non-mommy time previously. She was attending the same home-based daycare that my nieces attended until January of this year. This allowed her to play with other kids and learn some things at "school" while mommy homeschooled big sister and worked. A few times she has recently told me that "when you used to drop me off at {her} house, I would cry and be sad because I missed you so much!" So of course I have questions and doubts about her going to preschool.
This leads me to revisit major questions like - why do I homeschool, anyway? What is my educational philosophy and how does sending her to preschool fit with this? Preteen attended preschool on two continents in three languages, mostly as daycare but it was fun to see her learn. I think there are definitely lessons she will learn at preschool that are beneficial... also some that aren't so much. I am definitely praying and asking for guidance in making this decision. Facing 7th grade homeschool with Preteen next year helps nudge me toward the easier choice. Knowing that Elf is a very bright handful and has made it difficult, to say the least, to get through this year also is a nudge.
This morning she marched over to me while we were getting ready to go out and announced, "I am on a quest, Mom." Well, yes, indeed we are on a quest. With a 3 year old I had to ask a couple of times what she was saying - you can never tell if speech and language development is making it hard to pronounce her R's or, oh my word, she really DID just announce that she was on a quest. So we will continue the quest for the right answers for her education, just as we did several years ago with the Preteen.
Maybe we'll run into a magical lady who will hand us some special tools to help us through the journey? Or is that too much Tolkein??
27 February 2010
I want to be like her when I grow up
I spent some time today with one of my favorite women in the whole world. Called and asked her if she wanted to go out shopping later (hey, it was Saturday, we didn't need to get up early or anything). Despite the rain and a bum knee, she was up for it. I brought my coupons (always!).
As we always do, we talked about everyone and everything on the way to the mall - relationships, my sisters, her daughters, our husbands. She is so wise and I really respect her opinions. She shared some pretty candid feelings about a certain relationship. Such a sweet woman - even when telling me, she was apologizing to me for telling me. I told her, "Hey, that's what friends are for. You need to have someone to talk to about some of these things. You can't just keep them inside." In fact, she's the one who taught me that it is perfectly acceptable to be upset - with limits - when something hurtful happens.
So we shopped. She shared her honest opinion on sizes and colors, did a little browsing of her own, and used the second coupon so I could get the sale price on 3 shirts instead of just two. (Thanks!!!). Met up with another friend, more shopping, more browsing, more laughing and chatting - then had to run to get some kids to their youth group activity on time.
When I took her home, she got comfy while I poured her a drink and she rested that knee. Talk with her is always so much fun - went from how to decorate our kitchens on through to the scariest moments in our lives. Losing our kids for 15 minutes in a mall was tops for both of us, even having lived through at least one major earthquake and the L.A. riots. There is something about being a mom that changes your view of "important."
Later in the evening we met up again at the local Japanese place to listen to my cousin's amazing husband create some magic on the guitar. Sushi, tempura, music, laughter, stories... I think we got shushed a few times and she nearly fell out of her chair at a few of the things my sister and I said. You just can't get us out in public anywhere without one of us bursting out laughing. As she always does she was lovely with those around us and made new friends (takes after her dad that way).
After she went home early I started musing on our relationship - we have grown and changed in the last few decades. I am honored to be able to call her friend and that she will confide in me.
I pray that I will be able to be that kind of mother and friend to my own daughters.
Thank you, Mom!
As we always do, we talked about everyone and everything on the way to the mall - relationships, my sisters, her daughters, our husbands. She is so wise and I really respect her opinions. She shared some pretty candid feelings about a certain relationship. Such a sweet woman - even when telling me, she was apologizing to me for telling me. I told her, "Hey, that's what friends are for. You need to have someone to talk to about some of these things. You can't just keep them inside." In fact, she's the one who taught me that it is perfectly acceptable to be upset - with limits - when something hurtful happens.
So we shopped. She shared her honest opinion on sizes and colors, did a little browsing of her own, and used the second coupon so I could get the sale price on 3 shirts instead of just two. (Thanks!!!). Met up with another friend, more shopping, more browsing, more laughing and chatting - then had to run to get some kids to their youth group activity on time.
When I took her home, she got comfy while I poured her a drink and she rested that knee. Talk with her is always so much fun - went from how to decorate our kitchens on through to the scariest moments in our lives. Losing our kids for 15 minutes in a mall was tops for both of us, even having lived through at least one major earthquake and the L.A. riots. There is something about being a mom that changes your view of "important."
Later in the evening we met up again at the local Japanese place to listen to my cousin's amazing husband create some magic on the guitar. Sushi, tempura, music, laughter, stories... I think we got shushed a few times and she nearly fell out of her chair at a few of the things my sister and I said. You just can't get us out in public anywhere without one of us bursting out laughing. As she always does she was lovely with those around us and made new friends (takes after her dad that way).
After she went home early I started musing on our relationship - we have grown and changed in the last few decades. I am honored to be able to call her friend and that she will confide in me.
I pray that I will be able to be that kind of mother and friend to my own daughters.
Thank you, Mom!
25 February 2010
Enjoying the lasts
The amazing preschooler has been on a "cuddle me" kick, as in, "Mommy, I need someone to cuddle me." This might come when she is being an absolute pill, the world's sweetest daughter, or something in between (most of the time).
It is so easy to blow her off or find other things to focus on. Come on, kid, I am Working. I am Cleaning. I am Failing in My Attempt to be a Superwoman. Hear me ROAR.
A few days ago she was on timeout for some infraction already forgotten and she felt it necessary to state the obvious. "Mommy, you are being mean. You. Are. A. Mean. Mommy." and then the final blow. "I wish you were a Nice Mommy." (oh honey, so do I!!!)
When timeout was over, I set aside the work laptop and called her over to sit on my lap for some much needed cuddle time. Sweet moments made even sweeter when she fell asleep on my lap and forced me to cuddle her for over an hour. Forced?? How could I even think that was the right verb?
I was reminded of something I read somewhere (help me out here) that named parenting as not just a list of "Firsts" (like those in the baby book), but is also a series of "Lasts" that are so often forgotten or that go unnoticed because we really don't know when it really is the last time. The last time you tied your child's shoes. The last time she ran to your bed in the middle of the night and wedged herself between you and your spouse and kicked off the covers and you had a terrible night's sleep but oh, it does happen a last time. I know it. The last diaper changed (hooray! why don't we have a party for that, anyway?). The last time they needed you to help them do that grown up thing that... now they know how to do.
I sat and savored the warm heavy weight; whispered to her much older sister to please cover us both with a blanket. Sighed, breathed deeply the smell of her hair that is no longer that baby sweet smell but is not yet that pre-teen funk (admit it. You know that of which I speak). Rubbed the tiny back, ran my fingers over the soft little hands that no longer need me to help them form the letters in her name.
I hope it wasn't the last time she will fall asleep on my lap. But I am not taking it for granted.
It is so easy to blow her off or find other things to focus on. Come on, kid, I am Working. I am Cleaning. I am Failing in My Attempt to be a Superwoman. Hear me ROAR.
A few days ago she was on timeout for some infraction already forgotten and she felt it necessary to state the obvious. "Mommy, you are being mean. You. Are. A. Mean. Mommy." and then the final blow. "I wish you were a Nice Mommy." (oh honey, so do I!!!)
When timeout was over, I set aside the work laptop and called her over to sit on my lap for some much needed cuddle time. Sweet moments made even sweeter when she fell asleep on my lap and forced me to cuddle her for over an hour. Forced?? How could I even think that was the right verb?
I was reminded of something I read somewhere (help me out here) that named parenting as not just a list of "Firsts" (like those in the baby book), but is also a series of "Lasts" that are so often forgotten or that go unnoticed because we really don't know when it really is the last time. The last time you tied your child's shoes. The last time she ran to your bed in the middle of the night and wedged herself between you and your spouse and kicked off the covers and you had a terrible night's sleep but oh, it does happen a last time. I know it. The last diaper changed (hooray! why don't we have a party for that, anyway?). The last time they needed you to help them do that grown up thing that... now they know how to do.
I sat and savored the warm heavy weight; whispered to her much older sister to please cover us both with a blanket. Sighed, breathed deeply the smell of her hair that is no longer that baby sweet smell but is not yet that pre-teen funk (admit it. You know that of which I speak). Rubbed the tiny back, ran my fingers over the soft little hands that no longer need me to help them form the letters in her name.
I hope it wasn't the last time she will fall asleep on my lap. But I am not taking it for granted.
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