Certain of my regular followers have requested a Bourget Family update from me, and it looks like today's the day.
Kate, Sam and Molly played soccer. I took them to most of their practices, but somehow managed only to see about three games total, all season! I'm not winning any Mother of the Year awards for this behavior!
Lilly did not play a sport. I don't recall what she did do, but I'm sure she was quite busy. Currently, she is on the JV Cheering squad. Go Vikes!
Sophie is home with me, getting smarter by the minute, and quite possibly cuter by the day. She has started reading, and writes letters to her grandparents (all the way in Buckfield) regularly.
Kate is trying the homeschool scene. We've signed her up for the A Beka program. No, she does not love it. Yes, this will be her last year homeschooling.
Scott still works in Portsmouth, NH; I still work in the house trying to make sense of the organizing process.
Our SIXTH Annual Cider on the Hill was the biggest and best yet. Over the course of two days we squeezed 153 gallons of cider. We've given most of it away, but for the first time ever, we have more than eight gallons for ourselves.
In general, we are happy, healthy and eager for the Christmas season. Last Friday we enjoyed 67 degree weather. By Sunday we had our first sticking snow. Winter is here, and a blizzard is on its way (depending on who you ask... there are several conflicting reports). It's not even Wednesday yet! The tree is up, the decorations half-done (though that may be the extent of it this year), the lists mostly made... we'll send letters to Santa soon, and hopefully get to see at least one Christmas cantata somewhere.
I've recently spent some time rereading several past blog entries. I seem to be a bit entertaining as a writer! I amuse even myself. =) There is a lot of me saying "more about that later...", so now I've got to go back and read everything and get those other stories done. And don't think I've forgotten I was supposed to give a detailed blog about each of my children... as yet I've only included the top two (er, I mean... the eldest two). I've been looking to Sam for inspiration, and I think some ideas are beginning to form. More on that later.
Tuesday, December 8, 2009
Monday, August 17, 2009
Greetings form Ecuador
Hola, Mis Amgos!
Here it Monday, and I am getting my first chance to give an official update from Guayaquil, Ecuador. We have finished our breakfast here at Casa Alianza, and we are trying to put our photos onto the computer (well, I am, anyway.. Mimi and Lilly are trying to unfreeze Lilly´s new iTouch... Mimi is having some difficulty accepting directions from the girls, who are having equal difficulty watching her do it her own way) (tee hee). I´ll keep out of it, and just sit over here journaling and getting in my required thirty minutes of journaling time for today.
Since I didn´t start the journal at the beginning, I will just start from here and work my way back, and then I will try to keep up with it henceforth.
Yesterday we traveled by car (six people in a sub-compact car, seatbelts optional), about 120 km to the beach at Salinas. It was a good time, though the ride was long and cramped (though we had fewer people than they would have normally taken for such a trip, I believe). The coast was cooler than here, and the sun didn´t show its face at all. The locals were very cold, and most of them wished they had brought long pants. I still managed to get some color on my face while I was swimming (I didn´t want to swim, but did it anyway... thanks to some urging from Alex [Emily´s fiance] and Oscar [a friend... more about him later].
Everywhere we go, people try to sell stuff to us... when we got to the tollbooth on the highway, hawkers were everywhere... oranges, water, limes, beach toys... on and on. At the beach was no exception... clothing, jewelry, baskets, wooden folding seats, doodads, ice cream, cooked goods, coconuts, hair braiding (Kate got her whole head braided for five dollars). They are all so friendly and kind, not pushy or rude. Of course, there was some haggling to be done, and in the end, we probably did not get the best price, but still a good price for us.
Saturday, we went into the city for breakfast with Emily, Alex, Luis and Gretchen. I´ll have to find out the name of the food we had, but it was like a corn mush, formed around some sort of cheese, wrapped in corn husks. I know it sounds muy delicioso when I describe it that way, but it actually is quite sweet and good. Filling, too.
After that, we rode through the city to get to a tourist destination (the name of which I will have to get later) which was five hundred steps (each one numbered) winding through rows of houses (and businesses) to the top of a small mountain (a hill by Maine standards) (and maybe by Ecuadorian standards, I´m not sure). At the top was an old fort (or maybe a replica), and at a lookout where you could see the whole city of Guayaquil. Very touristy, but really quite nice... a great way to see the city.
On our way home from there, we bought KFC (at the drive-through, no less), and ate our dinner poolside at Casa. The heat has not been oppressive, but it definitely is hot and humid, and by the time we get to bed, we are so tired we fall right to sleep. I have been sleeping very well, with the exception of last night, when I neglected to take any Tylenol before bed.... the ride in the car took a toll on my back, and now I´m a little stiff this morning.
OK, in keeping with the almost complete lack of organization in this post, on to the story of our arrival....
Upon arrival in Guayaquil, we discovered our luggage was all buy missing. One bag alone made the entire journey with us... and that one, my own clothing bag. Mind you, we had packed extra bags for Emily and Gretchen, in addition to Lilly and Katey´s bag, and Mimi´s bag... for a total of seven bags we had checked in, only one made it through. There is only one flight from MIA to GYE on this airline, and that comes in around 8:30 each night, so we could only wait until that flight came in to go back to the airport and see if they had arrived. Ultimately, they were the last bags off the flight (they had probably been the first ones loaded in MIA), so I for the second night in a row, I was the last person in line to go through customs, only this time I had two carts full of six large bags, and no one to help me push it all through. The Customs agent ended up helping me load them onto the belt, unload them back onto the cart, and push them to the exit. See what I mean about the nice people here?
We really all wanted a hot shower once we got to our room, but there was no hot water in the shower... and none in the sink either. This is a problem we didn´t really voice our opinion about until we returned from the beach yesterday. Hay no agua caliente... I think is what I learned last night. Furthermore, no es posible to fix it... until manana... which is today. I really need a hot shower... the coolish ones are not doing it for me. We will see how this progresses.
On Friday, we followed Emily around Guayaquil, walking through a park called Malecon. It was nice enough, but extremely hot that day... we were still tired from the flight, and overwhelmed by the total immersion into a culture we did not understand at all. I think we couldn´t fully appreciate the place. It got to be a bit of a crazy, exhausted day for us. We probably should have stayed at Casa and taken naps and lounged in the pool all day before venturing out. We know now!
As for today, we will probably go to the church where Emily works, and have lunch there with them. We have yet to meet any of the children she works with. Neither have we met Pastor Dario (sp?) with whom she is starting up this foundation. I have a bag FULL of candy to deliver, and hope to do some of that today, as well. Oh, and toothbrushes, of course. =)
I am going to try to get some photos onto the computer so you can see some of what it´s like here. When using a public computer, one realizes how quickly time flies... it feels rude to be on here an hour, even... say nothing of the three or so hours I spend online at home when I´m checking email and FB and trying to blog all at the same time.
More to follow, though not as in-depth, I think (though hopefully more organized... this writing is close to embarrassing).
Here it Monday, and I am getting my first chance to give an official update from Guayaquil, Ecuador. We have finished our breakfast here at Casa Alianza, and we are trying to put our photos onto the computer (well, I am, anyway.. Mimi and Lilly are trying to unfreeze Lilly´s new iTouch... Mimi is having some difficulty accepting directions from the girls, who are having equal difficulty watching her do it her own way) (tee hee). I´ll keep out of it, and just sit over here journaling and getting in my required thirty minutes of journaling time for today.
Since I didn´t start the journal at the beginning, I will just start from here and work my way back, and then I will try to keep up with it henceforth.
Yesterday we traveled by car (six people in a sub-compact car, seatbelts optional), about 120 km to the beach at Salinas. It was a good time, though the ride was long and cramped (though we had fewer people than they would have normally taken for such a trip, I believe). The coast was cooler than here, and the sun didn´t show its face at all. The locals were very cold, and most of them wished they had brought long pants. I still managed to get some color on my face while I was swimming (I didn´t want to swim, but did it anyway... thanks to some urging from Alex [Emily´s fiance] and Oscar [a friend... more about him later].
Everywhere we go, people try to sell stuff to us... when we got to the tollbooth on the highway, hawkers were everywhere... oranges, water, limes, beach toys... on and on. At the beach was no exception... clothing, jewelry, baskets, wooden folding seats, doodads, ice cream, cooked goods, coconuts, hair braiding (Kate got her whole head braided for five dollars). They are all so friendly and kind, not pushy or rude. Of course, there was some haggling to be done, and in the end, we probably did not get the best price, but still a good price for us.
Saturday, we went into the city for breakfast with Emily, Alex, Luis and Gretchen. I´ll have to find out the name of the food we had, but it was like a corn mush, formed around some sort of cheese, wrapped in corn husks. I know it sounds muy delicioso when I describe it that way, but it actually is quite sweet and good. Filling, too.
After that, we rode through the city to get to a tourist destination (the name of which I will have to get later) which was five hundred steps (each one numbered) winding through rows of houses (and businesses) to the top of a small mountain (a hill by Maine standards) (and maybe by Ecuadorian standards, I´m not sure). At the top was an old fort (or maybe a replica), and at a lookout where you could see the whole city of Guayaquil. Very touristy, but really quite nice... a great way to see the city.
On our way home from there, we bought KFC (at the drive-through, no less), and ate our dinner poolside at Casa. The heat has not been oppressive, but it definitely is hot and humid, and by the time we get to bed, we are so tired we fall right to sleep. I have been sleeping very well, with the exception of last night, when I neglected to take any Tylenol before bed.... the ride in the car took a toll on my back, and now I´m a little stiff this morning.
OK, in keeping with the almost complete lack of organization in this post, on to the story of our arrival....
Upon arrival in Guayaquil, we discovered our luggage was all buy missing. One bag alone made the entire journey with us... and that one, my own clothing bag. Mind you, we had packed extra bags for Emily and Gretchen, in addition to Lilly and Katey´s bag, and Mimi´s bag... for a total of seven bags we had checked in, only one made it through. There is only one flight from MIA to GYE on this airline, and that comes in around 8:30 each night, so we could only wait until that flight came in to go back to the airport and see if they had arrived. Ultimately, they were the last bags off the flight (they had probably been the first ones loaded in MIA), so I for the second night in a row, I was the last person in line to go through customs, only this time I had two carts full of six large bags, and no one to help me push it all through. The Customs agent ended up helping me load them onto the belt, unload them back onto the cart, and push them to the exit. See what I mean about the nice people here?
We really all wanted a hot shower once we got to our room, but there was no hot water in the shower... and none in the sink either. This is a problem we didn´t really voice our opinion about until we returned from the beach yesterday. Hay no agua caliente... I think is what I learned last night. Furthermore, no es posible to fix it... until manana... which is today. I really need a hot shower... the coolish ones are not doing it for me. We will see how this progresses.
On Friday, we followed Emily around Guayaquil, walking through a park called Malecon. It was nice enough, but extremely hot that day... we were still tired from the flight, and overwhelmed by the total immersion into a culture we did not understand at all. I think we couldn´t fully appreciate the place. It got to be a bit of a crazy, exhausted day for us. We probably should have stayed at Casa and taken naps and lounged in the pool all day before venturing out. We know now!
As for today, we will probably go to the church where Emily works, and have lunch there with them. We have yet to meet any of the children she works with. Neither have we met Pastor Dario (sp?) with whom she is starting up this foundation. I have a bag FULL of candy to deliver, and hope to do some of that today, as well. Oh, and toothbrushes, of course. =)
I am going to try to get some photos onto the computer so you can see some of what it´s like here. When using a public computer, one realizes how quickly time flies... it feels rude to be on here an hour, even... say nothing of the three or so hours I spend online at home when I´m checking email and FB and trying to blog all at the same time.
More to follow, though not as in-depth, I think (though hopefully more organized... this writing is close to embarrassing).
Monday, August 10, 2009
July - August Update... The Sun is Shining!
Just a quick update to let you know what I've been up to over the past month.
I emptied out the office completely, closet and all, and began sorting and filing. I have begun the process of returning items to their rightful place in the office, and am left with a smallish pile in the corner of the living room. Wahoo! But, I am not about to go through it this week, because...
Now that the Abbott Family Reunion is out of the way (it was a success), and the BHS 20th Class Reunion is done (another success), I am visiting with my friend Erika until Tuesday. On Tuesday I have a meeting with other 4-H leaders. On Wednesday we celebrate Molly's 7th birthday with a friends party in the afternoon, and a family party in the evening. On Thursday, Lilly, Kate, Mum and I head off for Ecuador for Emily's wedding.
I am all of a sudden quite occupied with activity (sounds better than just saying how busy I am), making progress in the organization department, nonetheless, and am not in the least discouraged. I have been spending much less time on the computer, and more time with my kids. I got an obscene sunburn floating around on the pool, fast asleep (sweet respite, albeit high price). I plan to harvest my first tomato today. Sometime soon I will be packing one suitcase for the girls and me, and four suitcases (of clothing, necessities and treats) for the "street kids" in Ecuador.
It has been a good summer, despite the rain, and I am not that mother who can't wait for school to start (although I think at least two of the kids will be happy to be back into that routine).
I emptied out the office completely, closet and all, and began sorting and filing. I have begun the process of returning items to their rightful place in the office, and am left with a smallish pile in the corner of the living room. Wahoo! But, I am not about to go through it this week, because...
Now that the Abbott Family Reunion is out of the way (it was a success), and the BHS 20th Class Reunion is done (another success), I am visiting with my friend Erika until Tuesday. On Tuesday I have a meeting with other 4-H leaders. On Wednesday we celebrate Molly's 7th birthday with a friends party in the afternoon, and a family party in the evening. On Thursday, Lilly, Kate, Mum and I head off for Ecuador for Emily's wedding.
I am all of a sudden quite occupied with activity (sounds better than just saying how busy I am), making progress in the organization department, nonetheless, and am not in the least discouraged. I have been spending much less time on the computer, and more time with my kids. I got an obscene sunburn floating around on the pool, fast asleep (sweet respite, albeit high price). I plan to harvest my first tomato today. Sometime soon I will be packing one suitcase for the girls and me, and four suitcases (of clothing, necessities and treats) for the "street kids" in Ecuador.
It has been a good summer, despite the rain, and I am not that mother who can't wait for school to start (although I think at least two of the kids will be happy to be back into that routine).
Tuesday, July 7, 2009
God is in this.
The following letter came about when a friend from church emailed me to 'check in,' making sure to tell me she wasn't expecting a response. I intended to send off a quick response, but as I typed I realized it was much more than I expected. I decided to send it to several close friends, and as a result of their feedback, sent along to other friends and saved it my archives to post on the blog I hoped to start eventually.
I've also attached a photo of pregnant me with some comforting and inspirational words. Thank you for your participation in my healing process, which continues to this day.
Date: Fri, 21 Dec 2007 [two months after losing the baby]
What a long, strange trip this has been. But God is good, and here is how I know. From the moment Scott and I heard from the doctor that there as no heartbeat, we agreed that this was going to be part of our living testimony... used for God in ways we could only imagine. We have already been blessed to see God working through us in people we know and love, in ways we hadn't thought possible.
One example involves my dad. After we found out there was no fetal heartbeat, we went right to the hospital to be induced, and our families joined us for the long wait until delivery. It turned out to be a great thing, as we got to spend time with each family member, and I'll cherish the intimate moments we shared. When I had a chance to sit with my father, we discussed our shared belief that this baby just wasn't meant to be in this world, and he talked about how she had been 'recalled.' Later, he actually said something to the effect that there was something 'bigger than us... God, or whatever... that wanted this baby with Him.' I almost laughed out loud (for a couple reasons) because that's the first time I'd ever heard him voluntarily speak of God... but also because he was so sure he didn't want to really commit to the theory of God, so he was quick to add the 'or whatever' part. Anyway, I was encouraged, and continue to be.
Our prayer from the beginning of all this was that we could be true and honest testimonies, not just giving fake and forced smiles and saying 'praise God!' all the time, since our unsaved and skeptical family members and friends would see right through that. Well, be careful what you ask for, because, boy howdy!, does God answer prayer! He has shown me firsthand how difficult and complicated the process of grieving is... even though we fully believe Phoebe is in a much better place, and we know we will get through this only with God's strength, still He takes me through the process step by step, and the pain and confusion I endure is fully obvious to those close to me. My constant prayer is that I will remember to lean on Him, and to let others know that's the only way I'm getting through this successfully.
All in all, we are doing quite well, considering the circumstance. It has been a learning, growing time for us, and as always, growth comes with plenty of growing pain. But this, too, will be used for the glory of God, and He clearly uses the necessary means to draw us closer to Him.
We are open and honest about our loss, even when dealing with the kids. They each have their own understanding of the situation, and have dealt with the loss their own way. Of course, kids move on much quicker, in general, but from time to time we still talk about what happened, and what that means to us (I imagine this will continue for the rest of our lives). What I love about kids is how honest they are about it, and how they have no filter... there's no awkward moment of trying to figure out how to ask a question or make a comment without wondering if it's going to hurt my feelings or if it's the right thing to say.
Throughout all of this, we have been amazingly aware of the prayer support from our family in Christ. I was recently talking with my mother-in-law about how people just don't know what to do or say around me, and how frequently people will say, "I wish I could do something, but all I can do is pray for you." She and I laugh about that because essentially people are saying "I want to fix this situation for you, but since I can't do that all I can do is speak directly to the Creator of the universe who lovingly made you and knows your every thought and provides for your every need... all I can do is go to Him on your behalf and ask for His inevitible, supernatural, divine intervention... sorry, that's all I can do.' Hello People!... how much better does it get than that?!? I have been keenly aware of the days and times when God's people are crying out to God, my Savior, to provide me the necessary strength, courage, grace, humility and will to get through this.
I have discovered about myself that sometimes strength means letting down my guard and having a good cry. The 'experts' on grieving tell me I will go through a phase of anger, but I haven't seen it yet. I'm not sure who or what I'm supposed to be mad at or about. Disappointed, yes, and a whole array of other emotions, but a distinct lack of anger. It's not that I doubt the experts, because I realize the process of grieving involves certain phases, but I have to wonder if this is the grace I prayed for many months ago before I ever knew what the prayer meant. Is it the faith in Christ that sustains me, and keeps any anger from presenting itself? Whatever it is, I rest easy in the understanding that God knows, and God is good.
Thank you for your prayers and for letting me know I am still in your thoughts. God is hearing and answering... He is so good.
I love you,
Michelle
P.S. You may want to share this letter with others, and I encourage you to do so... I can't (and won't) contact everyone who might be glad to have some news from us.
One of these days, I'll have to attempt to type up that whole bizarre dream... nobody would believe I had actually had the dream before the actual experience, except that I shared it with several people before we found out about our loss.
I've also attached a photo of pregnant me with some comforting and inspirational words. Thank you for your participation in my healing process, which continues to this day.
Date: Fri, 21 Dec 2007 [two months after losing the baby]
What a long, strange trip this has been. But God is good, and here is how I know. From the moment Scott and I heard from the doctor that there as no heartbeat, we agreed that this was going to be part of our living testimony... used for God in ways we could only imagine. We have already been blessed to see God working through us in people we know and love, in ways we hadn't thought possible.
One example involves my dad. After we found out there was no fetal heartbeat, we went right to the hospital to be induced, and our families joined us for the long wait until delivery. It turned out to be a great thing, as we got to spend time with each family member, and I'll cherish the intimate moments we shared. When I had a chance to sit with my father, we discussed our shared belief that this baby just wasn't meant to be in this world, and he talked about how she had been 'recalled.' Later, he actually said something to the effect that there was something 'bigger than us... God, or whatever... that wanted this baby with Him.' I almost laughed out loud (for a couple reasons) because that's the first time I'd ever heard him voluntarily speak of God... but also because he was so sure he didn't want to really commit to the theory of God, so he was quick to add the 'or whatever' part. Anyway, I was encouraged, and continue to be.
Our prayer from the beginning of all this was that we could be true and honest testimonies, not just giving fake and forced smiles and saying 'praise God!' all the time, since our unsaved and skeptical family members and friends would see right through that. Well, be careful what you ask for, because, boy howdy!, does God answer prayer! He has shown me firsthand how difficult and complicated the process of grieving is... even though we fully believe Phoebe is in a much better place, and we know we will get through this only with God's strength, still He takes me through the process step by step, and the pain and confusion I endure is fully obvious to those close to me. My constant prayer is that I will remember to lean on Him, and to let others know that's the only way I'm getting through this successfully.
All in all, we are doing quite well, considering the circumstance. It has been a learning, growing time for us, and as always, growth comes with plenty of growing pain. But this, too, will be used for the glory of God, and He clearly uses the necessary means to draw us closer to Him.
We are open and honest about our loss, even when dealing with the kids. They each have their own understanding of the situation, and have dealt with the loss their own way. Of course, kids move on much quicker, in general, but from time to time we still talk about what happened, and what that means to us (I imagine this will continue for the rest of our lives). What I love about kids is how honest they are about it, and how they have no filter... there's no awkward moment of trying to figure out how to ask a question or make a comment without wondering if it's going to hurt my feelings or if it's the right thing to say.
Throughout all of this, we have been amazingly aware of the prayer support from our family in Christ. I was recently talking with my mother-in-law about how people just don't know what to do or say around me, and how frequently people will say, "I wish I could do something, but all I can do is pray for you." She and I laugh about that because essentially people are saying "I want to fix this situation for you, but since I can't do that all I can do is speak directly to the Creator of the universe who lovingly made you and knows your every thought and provides for your every need... all I can do is go to Him on your behalf and ask for His inevitible, supernatural, divine intervention... sorry, that's all I can do.' Hello People!... how much better does it get than that?!? I have been keenly aware of the days and times when God's people are crying out to God, my Savior, to provide me the necessary strength, courage, grace, humility and will to get through this.
I have discovered about myself that sometimes strength means letting down my guard and having a good cry. The 'experts' on grieving tell me I will go through a phase of anger, but I haven't seen it yet. I'm not sure who or what I'm supposed to be mad at or about. Disappointed, yes, and a whole array of other emotions, but a distinct lack of anger. It's not that I doubt the experts, because I realize the process of grieving involves certain phases, but I have to wonder if this is the grace I prayed for many months ago before I ever knew what the prayer meant. Is it the faith in Christ that sustains me, and keeps any anger from presenting itself? Whatever it is, I rest easy in the understanding that God knows, and God is good.
Thank you for your prayers and for letting me know I am still in your thoughts. God is hearing and answering... He is so good.
I love you,
Michelle
P.S. You may want to share this letter with others, and I encourage you to do so... I can't (and won't) contact everyone who might be glad to have some news from us.
One of these days, I'll have to attempt to type up that whole bizarre dream... nobody would believe I had actually had the dream before the actual experience, except that I shared it with several people before we found out about our loss.
Very long & outdated update
I've saved this letter in my archives since January, 2008. My friend, Erika, living in Arizona, had not heard the news of my life for at least that entire year (more, actually), so this sums up 2007. As it does such a good job of telling the story and describing important events, I will reprint it here, mostly in its entirety. The subject reads "Better sit down".
OK,
If it's OK with you, I'll catch you up via email. I wouldn't say it's the BEST way to get it done, except that it is an absolute, and that's a very good way... better than not getting anything done, which has been my way for the past year or so.
And what a year it has been.
As you know, we bought property, and eventually re-vamped the building into a coffee shop. We finally hung the "Open" flag last January(ish) [2007], and were figuring things out as we went along. Scott worked in Auburn at the time, and opened the shop before leaving for work. I'd meet him at the shop with the kids (they could catch the school bus there), and spend my day there. We did hire my cousin, Seth (a 19 year old college student who lives at home) to work days for us, as it wasn't really working out with the two little girls following me all around the place, wanting every treat they saw in the case. I managed to cut back my time there considerably, and it ended up that Seth was the only one in the business making money (and that was just barely a profit for him).
Scott decided to go back to Irving in Portsmouth (decision made in February, I believe, for a May move), and we found out we were pregnant in February, as well. It was a little bit of a shocker for us, as it had been over a year that we had been trying (unusual for us), so we started thinking maybe five would be our limit. Well, with the pregnancy illness and Scott's move, we looked at our list of priorities, and the shop came out way at the bottom. There was no way we could dedicate any serious time to get it running right, so we simply closed shop to reevaluate. I was sick for a loooooooong time, and it was no surprise that I got big early.
In July, I helped my sister plan and organize her wedding (we hosted the rehearsal dinner and reception at our house), which took place August 4th. It was a miserable time for me, being so huge and hot, and on my feet all the time to get her ready. I was frustrated she wasn't inviting (my) kids to the wedding, though she DID want Sophie in the ceremony, but it was her wedding, and the bride should get what she wants. I ended up having to hire a babysitter to stay home with Sam and Molly(who also ended up setting up the tent for the reception), then I had to drive to Popham with my parents and Sonja and Sophie (we were all in the wedding), while Lilly and Kate rode the rented bus to watch the ceremony (OK, I got my way a little bit). It was a fiasco, to say the least. Anyway, at the end of the day, she was married, and I was exhausted.
[Kids update here... edited to fit the time constraints.]Scott has enjoyed working at Irving again, though the commute is a killer, as usual. He actually has a one-year contract with them, and is trying to figure out what to do next. We keep tossing around the idea of moving closer to Irving if that's where he truly wants to stay. It's such a bad job market locally... we may have to move one way or another, either to keep the salary or keep close to work. Time will tell, and as usual, we're not really nervous about any of it.
Sometime over the summer, Sean and Adrienne found out they were pregnant, just as she was switching jobs so she would qualify for fertility treatments. I think she found out the same week she found out her mother had cancer in her ovaries and uterus. Both are still going strong... we credit the pregnancy for giving her mother something to live for. She is due the end of this month, and is enjoying a sense of relief and hope (I think you know they lost a baby in the first trimester around the time I was pregnant with Molly).
Around the end of September, I finally started feeling less miserable with the pregnancy. The weight gain slowed down considerably, and the constant nauseau practically went away. I got a lot of energy, and started nesting big time. After four weeks of feeling really good (more like a usual pregnancy for me), I started getting tired again, knowing full well I'd go at least one week over the due date. People were so surprised to see the due date come and go (of course, Scott and I were pretty much planning on a late date... the only kid to be born early was Lilly). The baby was due October 1, so on Tuesday, October 2 I had a routine check and everything was fine... though even the doc's office was surprised that I would carry baby number six past the date.
By that Saturday, I had decided it was going to have to be soon, as I was getting exhausted again. Saturday night we went out, saw some friends, had a good time. Sunday we skipped church, mowed the lawn, ran kids around to various friends' houses. That next Tuesday I had two appointments scheduled... an ultrasound to check the size and movements of the baby, then a follow-up with the doc's office. In another letter completely, I will tell you the dream I had early Tuesday morning, but to sum it up, I dreamt I was at the doc's office, and they wouldn't show me the heartbeat.
My sister drove me to my first appointment, and I told her the bizarre dream on the way there. She got very upset. We arrived at the place, and tried to comfort each other and be realistic. Got through the appointment, but the tech told me the docs wanted to see me right away. We rushed over, figuring if it was a true emergency, they'd have sent an ambulance for me... I kept thinking I was going to be rushed in for an emergency c-section. Long, long story short, a doctor new to the practice had to come into the room, introduce himself and tell me he had some bad news. Some very bad news. I thought he was joking. He wasn't... they had not been able to detect a heartbeat.
He did a confirming ultrasound there in his office. We called Scott and my parents who all rushed to the hospital. There was nothing to do but deliver the baby. I got the epidural, and they induced labor. It took about twelve hours before she was born. I must admit this was the most surreal experience of my life. Even as I type, I have to stop and think about the events as though it were some strange and sad movie. I certainly didn't want my first correspondence with you in years to be about this, but it is what it is.
We are working through the grieving process, all at our own pace. I'll send you a letter I sent out to friends of mine... Most people don't know what happened, exactly, and many people are unsure of how to ask about it... or whether even to ask. Simply put, there were blood clots in the umbilical cord, keeping nutrients from the baby. When I consider the whole pregnancy, I realize this baby was not meant to be in this world, no matter what I thought or planned. God has a plan we don't fully understand, but He carries us though this, and we are learning so much in the process. It has been painful and sad and disappointing, but we continue to be amazed at the support network available to us, and we are so grateful for it.
So, you can understand I saved the most difficult news for last, and now I'm a bit worn out. I do have more to say about it, and I don't feel fully caught up, but that's a fairly accurate update of my life over the past year. Overall, we are doing well, and our family grows stronger with each new day. Once I hear back from you, I'll send the other letter I mentioned. It has a pretty good photo attached, which I know you'll fully appreciate.
[Personal closing comments omitted.]
Love,
Mi
Sunday, June 28, 2009
A nearly perfect day.
A friend suggested I get into writing how wonderful my Saturday was, and I think she has a great point. Too often, I rely on my Facebook to spread the news about my life. Many of my friends and family read that, but in this case, it provides insufficient space for all the sordid details.
If you've been even remotely awake and alert this June, you will know we have seen our fair share of rain. More than our fair share, to be honest. We are breaking records all over the place! It's starting to get a little more than a little depressing, so imagine my delight to awaken yesterday to rays of sunshine across my bed. Glorious!
Scott and I discussed our plans for the day, and came up with the ever-exciting plan to clean a garage (maybe two, if we really get into it!). Before we could get to the first garage, we had to hoe out a bunch of garbage that has collected there since the breakdown of the truck (back in, oh, 1983, I believe). Before we could take the garbage to the dump (and since the breakdown of the truck), we had to clean out the back of my van to make space for copious amounts of stinky, fly-infested trash. Hm, you can see how our plans evolved rather quickly from one odious task to another to another. But eventually, we found our starting point and got to work.
With Sam sorting bottles and cans for the redemption center, Scott sorting gross trash from grosser trash, and me working on the inside of the van, we managed to make some headway. Before we knew it, we were off to the town dump with our first load.
This marks my second ever visit to the Hebron Dump in our nearly five years of living here. As luck would have it, I was able to congratulate Caroll, the town dump guy, on his retirement from dump guydom. I am reasonably convinced the whole town came out for the last day of his 21 years of service. I think I need to spend a whole Saturday down at the dump, just observing and chronicling the comings and goings of the town of Hebron... there is much news to be had there! Maybe more on that another time.
Once we got back home, Scott lit the burn pile that has been growing since the first time we mowed this lawn five years ago. I worked on grilling hot dogs (not on the burn pile, mind you) (my second ever time using this grill... are you seeing a pattern?) while Scott added a waterproof liner to the van for the second most-icky, rain-soaked, mold-infested pile of garbage from last Fall's basement flooding. Yum. Some kids played in the yard, others played in the pool, and the sun was shining, my friend!
We enjoyed our basic, summer lunch at the picnic table, poolside... hot dogs with grilled buns, and cherry kool-aid. Perfect! That done, Scott finished filling the van while I lounged in the sun for a bit (officially, we call it lifeguarding). Once the boys were ready to go, I got a crossword puzzle and headed out to sit in the shade to tend the burn piles. This is my best memory of the day, and I specifically closed my eyes to soak in the moment... a slight breeze directed the smoke (and bugs) away from me, while I relaxed in the dappled afternoon light. The kids played nicely in the background. The dog was too hot to complain. For a full fifteen minutes at least, no one asked me for anything! It was like heaven!
OK, I jest. It was probably closer to two hours I sat out there tending the fires (about as much work as lifeguarding, btw... only shadier), but it really was very nice. Scott and the kids came and went... at one point Scott even delivered a margarita out to me ("lime salt, and everything!") before dinner. Ah, and dinner! Kate grilled salmon with dill, and served it with rice pilaf and broccoli. Clouds that had threatened all day finally rolled in, but the rain held off, and we roasted marshmallows over the coals ("marshed marshmallows" as Sophie calls it).
We needed a day like that, especially when it's followed by a day like this (read that: more frikkin' rain!). I will cherish the memory of that Saturday in June, when Sophie skipped out to check on me by the fire... fresh from a little skinny-dipping jaunt herself, ready to warm her buns by the fire... so innocent, completely unaware of the social impropriety, not a care in the world. In my mind it will remain a day of singing, splashing, getting along, smiling, and relaxing, all the while achieving some level of actual productivity.
Did we get even one garage cleaned out? No. We'll have to do that when the sun comes out again (at this rate, we'll revisit the idea in another five years).
If you've been even remotely awake and alert this June, you will know we have seen our fair share of rain. More than our fair share, to be honest. We are breaking records all over the place! It's starting to get a little more than a little depressing, so imagine my delight to awaken yesterday to rays of sunshine across my bed. Glorious!
Scott and I discussed our plans for the day, and came up with the ever-exciting plan to clean a garage (maybe two, if we really get into it!). Before we could get to the first garage, we had to hoe out a bunch of garbage that has collected there since the breakdown of the truck (back in, oh, 1983, I believe). Before we could take the garbage to the dump (and since the breakdown of the truck), we had to clean out the back of my van to make space for copious amounts of stinky, fly-infested trash. Hm, you can see how our plans evolved rather quickly from one odious task to another to another. But eventually, we found our starting point and got to work.
With Sam sorting bottles and cans for the redemption center, Scott sorting gross trash from grosser trash, and me working on the inside of the van, we managed to make some headway. Before we knew it, we were off to the town dump with our first load.
This marks my second ever visit to the Hebron Dump in our nearly five years of living here. As luck would have it, I was able to congratulate Caroll, the town dump guy, on his retirement from dump guydom. I am reasonably convinced the whole town came out for the last day of his 21 years of service. I think I need to spend a whole Saturday down at the dump, just observing and chronicling the comings and goings of the town of Hebron... there is much news to be had there! Maybe more on that another time.
Once we got back home, Scott lit the burn pile that has been growing since the first time we mowed this lawn five years ago. I worked on grilling hot dogs (not on the burn pile, mind you) (my second ever time using this grill... are you seeing a pattern?) while Scott added a waterproof liner to the van for the second most-icky, rain-soaked, mold-infested pile of garbage from last Fall's basement flooding. Yum. Some kids played in the yard, others played in the pool, and the sun was shining, my friend!
We enjoyed our basic, summer lunch at the picnic table, poolside... hot dogs with grilled buns, and cherry kool-aid. Perfect! That done, Scott finished filling the van while I lounged in the sun for a bit (officially, we call it lifeguarding). Once the boys were ready to go, I got a crossword puzzle and headed out to sit in the shade to tend the burn piles. This is my best memory of the day, and I specifically closed my eyes to soak in the moment... a slight breeze directed the smoke (and bugs) away from me, while I relaxed in the dappled afternoon light. The kids played nicely in the background. The dog was too hot to complain. For a full fifteen minutes at least, no one asked me for anything! It was like heaven!
OK, I jest. It was probably closer to two hours I sat out there tending the fires (about as much work as lifeguarding, btw... only shadier), but it really was very nice. Scott and the kids came and went... at one point Scott even delivered a margarita out to me ("lime salt, and everything!") before dinner. Ah, and dinner! Kate grilled salmon with dill, and served it with rice pilaf and broccoli. Clouds that had threatened all day finally rolled in, but the rain held off, and we roasted marshmallows over the coals ("marshed marshmallows" as Sophie calls it).
We needed a day like that, especially when it's followed by a day like this (read that: more frikkin' rain!). I will cherish the memory of that Saturday in June, when Sophie skipped out to check on me by the fire... fresh from a little skinny-dipping jaunt herself, ready to warm her buns by the fire... so innocent, completely unaware of the social impropriety, not a care in the world. In my mind it will remain a day of singing, splashing, getting along, smiling, and relaxing, all the while achieving some level of actual productivity.
Did we get even one garage cleaned out? No. We'll have to do that when the sun comes out again (at this rate, we'll revisit the idea in another five years).
Sunday, May 31, 2009
Bourget Family Update May 2009
And now, by popular demand, the Bourget family update (in a nutshell) for those of you who are just joining the program...
Scott and I are in our 14th year of wedded bliss. We are living in Hebron, Maine... on 20 acres of lawn, field, pond, woods and stream... it's our happy place. We are one town over from my parents (still, 13 miles is a good "bumper"... can see the parents when I want to, but don't feel it necessary to travel that distance daily)... and half a mile from my in-laws (as it happens, half a mile is also a decent bumper).
Scott is working for Override... a subsidiary (as I understand it) (or maybe it's more of a spin-off) of Irving, in Portsmouth, NH. He loves it. You can look that operation up online (www.override.com), and let us know if there's any way he can do something productive in your town (then he'd have to travel there, and I'd be happy to go along for the ride... the OVERride! ha!) (lame, I know). He plays men's league, slow-pitch softball in Auburn, and assists with our kids' various teams.
As for me, I'm still doing some photography when I want to (which is not often, really, because I'd rather just stay home and not clean house). I am extremely blessed to be with the kids for nearly everything... this is the life I've always wanted, believe it or not, so I'm very happy. It's a hard job, of course, and many days I look and feel less than ideal, but whatever... it's extremely rewarding, and totally worth it. Ironically, I am still learning how to cook and clean... apparently these skills are essential to effective housewifery and successful stay-at-home-momness. Give me another 14 years, and I may just have the hang of it.
Lilly will be *13*(!!!!!) in July, and headed into 9th grade at Oxford Hills High School in the Fall (you're right... I'm too young to be the mother of a high schooler). She homeschooled for 7th grade before heading back into the system for 8th grade. She LOVES school. She plays viola in the orchestra, participates in travel chorus, plays softball and ran cross- country last year. Oh, and of course, she was a cheerleader this past winter.
Kate is 11, and in the 5th grade. She wants to homeschool next year, for no reason, I believe, other than she'd have me mostly to herself for a whole school year! She plays violin in the orchestra, plays soccer, sings in chorus, and wants to take up drums (good thing I have that snare from my sixth grade year!). Her teachers love her because she just strives to go above and beyond in all her endeavors (what a waste of energy, I say!).
Sam is 9, 3rd grade. He's a skater in every sense of the word... he completes and turns in as little homework as possible (that's my boy!), while still managing to meet or exceed all the standards. He plays no instrument, but loves (and plays) soccer and baseball. He's a natural athlete (must've gotten that from Scott's side of the family), and a real ham... keeps us laughing. He's the stick that stirs that pot... gets the girls all in an uproar whenever he wants (please do NOT feel sorry for him ever, just because he's the only boy... he holds his own, for sure).
Molly is 6, 1st grade. She follows closely in her brother's tracks, as far as schoolwork goes. She's highly intelligent, and easily bored with school. This is the child that has taught me the most about parenting... being a kid doesn't seem to come naturally or easily to her. She's my creative force... she loves to create art, and she can sing and act with the best of them. She played soccer (when she wanted to) and t-ball (ibid.), but currently is perfecting her Heelying techniques. Molly is the child we will worry least about in life, because though she will probably (most likely) make some bad (self-destructive, dangerous or otherwise scary) decisions, she's a force to be reckoned with... no one will stop her from doing what she darn well pleases in life. She'll be taking care of business and watching out for Numero Uno all the livelong day.
Sophie is 4, no class. Well, you know. She's probably the smartest of them all (she's had a lot of highly skilled teachers ahead of her), and will probably start homeschooling for real this fall, because she just misses the cut-off for kindegarten. She's a sweet, affectionate, Mama's girl, and we have a lot of fun hanging out together most days. She's a good way to wrap up the child-rearing experience.
We also had a baby 19 months ago, Phoebe, who was stillborn at 42 weeks. It was an odd experience... long story which I'm happy to share should you desire details. I'm working on putting that in the blog, but man... a blog takes time!
Oh, and we have one dog who's lucky to still be alive. (I am not a dog person.) Meet Max.
Scott and I are in our 14th year of wedded bliss. We are living in Hebron, Maine... on 20 acres of lawn, field, pond, woods and stream... it's our happy place. We are one town over from my parents (still, 13 miles is a good "bumper"... can see the parents when I want to, but don't feel it necessary to travel that distance daily)... and half a mile from my in-laws (as it happens, half a mile is also a decent bumper).
Scott is working for Override... a subsidiary (as I understand it) (or maybe it's more of a spin-off) of Irving, in Portsmouth, NH. He loves it. You can look that operation up online (www.override.com), and let us know if there's any way he can do something productive in your town (then he'd have to travel there, and I'd be happy to go along for the ride... the OVERride! ha!) (lame, I know). He plays men's league, slow-pitch softball in Auburn, and assists with our kids' various teams.
As for me, I'm still doing some photography when I want to (which is not often, really, because I'd rather just stay home and not clean house). I am extremely blessed to be with the kids for nearly everything... this is the life I've always wanted, believe it or not, so I'm very happy. It's a hard job, of course, and many days I look and feel less than ideal, but whatever... it's extremely rewarding, and totally worth it. Ironically, I am still learning how to cook and clean... apparently these skills are essential to effective housewifery and successful stay-at-home-momness. Give me another 14 years, and I may just have the hang of it.
Lilly will be *13*(!!!!!) in July, and headed into 9th grade at Oxford Hills High School in the Fall (you're right... I'm too young to be the mother of a high schooler). She homeschooled for 7th grade before heading back into the system for 8th grade. She LOVES school. She plays viola in the orchestra, participates in travel chorus, plays softball and ran cross- country last year. Oh, and of course, she was a cheerleader this past winter.
Kate is 11, and in the 5th grade. She wants to homeschool next year, for no reason, I believe, other than she'd have me mostly to herself for a whole school year! She plays violin in the orchestra, plays soccer, sings in chorus, and wants to take up drums (good thing I have that snare from my sixth grade year!). Her teachers love her because she just strives to go above and beyond in all her endeavors (what a waste of energy, I say!).
Sam is 9, 3rd grade. He's a skater in every sense of the word... he completes and turns in as little homework as possible (that's my boy!), while still managing to meet or exceed all the standards. He plays no instrument, but loves (and plays) soccer and baseball. He's a natural athlete (must've gotten that from Scott's side of the family), and a real ham... keeps us laughing. He's the stick that stirs that pot... gets the girls all in an uproar whenever he wants (please do NOT feel sorry for him ever, just because he's the only boy... he holds his own, for sure).
Molly is 6, 1st grade. She follows closely in her brother's tracks, as far as schoolwork goes. She's highly intelligent, and easily bored with school. This is the child that has taught me the most about parenting... being a kid doesn't seem to come naturally or easily to her. She's my creative force... she loves to create art, and she can sing and act with the best of them. She played soccer (when she wanted to) and t-ball (ibid.), but currently is perfecting her Heelying techniques. Molly is the child we will worry least about in life, because though she will probably (most likely) make some bad (self-destructive, dangerous or otherwise scary) decisions, she's a force to be reckoned with... no one will stop her from doing what she darn well pleases in life. She'll be taking care of business and watching out for Numero Uno all the livelong day.
Sophie is 4, no class. Well, you know. She's probably the smartest of them all (she's had a lot of highly skilled teachers ahead of her), and will probably start homeschooling for real this fall, because she just misses the cut-off for kindegarten. She's a sweet, affectionate, Mama's girl, and we have a lot of fun hanging out together most days. She's a good way to wrap up the child-rearing experience.
We also had a baby 19 months ago, Phoebe, who was stillborn at 42 weeks. It was an odd experience... long story which I'm happy to share should you desire details. I'm working on putting that in the blog, but man... a blog takes time!
Oh, and we have one dog who's lucky to still be alive. (I am not a dog person.) Meet Max.
Thursday, May 7, 2009
Dangerous New Shoes
A Conversation with Sam
Sam: Mom, you know how, like, last week Kaden and I were, like, basically best friends? Well, now we're basically not even friends anymore.
Mom: Huh. Why is that?
Sam: 'Cause he got new shoes and now he's like Avery. You know, like, bossy.
Sam: Mom, you know how, like, last week Kaden and I were, like, basically best friends? Well, now we're basically not even friends anymore.
Mom: Huh. Why is that?
Sam: 'Cause he got new shoes and now he's like Avery. You know, like, bossy.
Tuesday, April 28, 2009
I am home from a week in Virginia with Scott and the kids. It was a nice, relaxing week... I think we all had a great time. It's definitely a rare opportunity for us to have Scott to ourselves for that much time.
Our unit was a three-room deal with a sleeping capacity of ten. Suffice to say, we all had a bed of some sorts to sleep on. Better still, there were three bathrooms and three televisions! I watched HGTV whenever I got the chance (which was often), and have returned home with a renewed sense of urgency to get this place cleaned up and organized. All those home improvement shows are inspiring!
Speaking of inspiration, I took a trip down to the shop this afternoon, trying to find some hope. Last time I was inspired to ask a friend if she wanted to do something there. This time I decided I should open a sort of Maine-Made conglomeration, with all those people who had suggestions from the beginning bringing in their goods to sell. Sort of a full-time flea market and farmer's market, indoors. I'll let you know what I think of next time I head down there.
The reason I went was for our builder friend, Joe, to take a look at it and tell us what it would take to re-convert it to a residential space. He hates the idea of undoing all his other (fairly recent) work, and suggested I at least put a sign in the window FOR RENT... as a retail space, he thinks it may work. I think he (like most of my good friends) just wants me to succeed at whatever it is I wanted to do there originally, and not have to give up so early in the game. I must say, every time I go down, I think how cool it would be to actually do something there. What's stopping me!?
Anyway, vacation is clearly over, and I'm right back into the thick of it now. I've got PTA projects up the wazoo (ouch!), the kids are back at school, Molly's already been to the doctor's office, the laundry is piled sky-high, the car is dirty again, the yard needs attention, the garden needs work... ah yes, did I say it's good to be home!? Well, it's nice to know that all the work that needs to be done is mine! I am so happy to have this place, and even though it comes with such a hefty sense of responsibility, I am grateful to have a home full of happy, healthy kids. Life is good, indeed.
Our unit was a three-room deal with a sleeping capacity of ten. Suffice to say, we all had a bed of some sorts to sleep on. Better still, there were three bathrooms and three televisions! I watched HGTV whenever I got the chance (which was often), and have returned home with a renewed sense of urgency to get this place cleaned up and organized. All those home improvement shows are inspiring!
Speaking of inspiration, I took a trip down to the shop this afternoon, trying to find some hope. Last time I was inspired to ask a friend if she wanted to do something there. This time I decided I should open a sort of Maine-Made conglomeration, with all those people who had suggestions from the beginning bringing in their goods to sell. Sort of a full-time flea market and farmer's market, indoors. I'll let you know what I think of next time I head down there.
The reason I went was for our builder friend, Joe, to take a look at it and tell us what it would take to re-convert it to a residential space. He hates the idea of undoing all his other (fairly recent) work, and suggested I at least put a sign in the window FOR RENT... as a retail space, he thinks it may work. I think he (like most of my good friends) just wants me to succeed at whatever it is I wanted to do there originally, and not have to give up so early in the game. I must say, every time I go down, I think how cool it would be to actually do something there. What's stopping me!?
Anyway, vacation is clearly over, and I'm right back into the thick of it now. I've got PTA projects up the wazoo (ouch!), the kids are back at school, Molly's already been to the doctor's office, the laundry is piled sky-high, the car is dirty again, the yard needs attention, the garden needs work... ah yes, did I say it's good to be home!? Well, it's nice to know that all the work that needs to be done is mine! I am so happy to have this place, and even though it comes with such a hefty sense of responsibility, I am grateful to have a home full of happy, healthy kids. Life is good, indeed.
Wednesday, April 15, 2009
Tuesday, April 7, 2009
Fast Break
OK, so my first real attempt at sacrificing for Lent ended early, but I still consider it a decent success.
I have had plenty of time to consider my own "sacrifice" (giving up eating out?... are you serious?), comparing it to the sacrifice of Christ. There is no comparison, really. I had to plan ahead, think things through, and work around my eating routine. For me, things went fairly smoothly over all. Nothing compared to giving up your life in an effort to save the souls of all humanity.
Last Thursday came the "friends" birthday party of my nine year old son. I intended to grab a couple frozen pizzas at Walmart while I was out shopping for party favors. I forgot. By the time I remembered, kids were piling off the bus, ready to pah-tay. I've discovered how easy it is for my loved-ones to justify any little discrepency in my original plans... "oh, pizza delivery isn't eating out... you'll all be eating it here at home!" Yeah, whatever. I ordered the pizzas and never looked back.
This past weekend, I chaperoned a Girl Scout trip to Massachusetts with Kate's troop. I knew there was going to be a lot of eating out, so I planned accordingly... I packed crackers, peanut butter, nuts, snacks, a water jug. And, I ate out every chance I got. Well, the fast had already been broken.
So, here's the deal. I figure four weeks is almost as good as five. It's four more than I've ever lasted before! And I have become keenly aware of how eating out affects my life in so many ways... This past month I've stayed home more than ever, knowing I can't just grab something to eat while we're out running errands. Also, because we've had more home-cooked suppers, I've had to rely more on the kids to help out in the kitchen... and now my kitchen looks better than ever!
I wish I had kept better records of the times I've wanted to eat out, just to know if I've actually saved any money. And, just for the record, I don't think I've necessarily lost any weight, so maybe there's a chance that at least my eating out habits are relatively healthy (or contrariwise, my eating in habits are equally unhealthy). Anyway, it was a learning experience for me, and you'll be the first to know if it permanently affects the way I live my life.
I have had plenty of time to consider my own "sacrifice" (giving up eating out?... are you serious?), comparing it to the sacrifice of Christ. There is no comparison, really. I had to plan ahead, think things through, and work around my eating routine. For me, things went fairly smoothly over all. Nothing compared to giving up your life in an effort to save the souls of all humanity.
Last Thursday came the "friends" birthday party of my nine year old son. I intended to grab a couple frozen pizzas at Walmart while I was out shopping for party favors. I forgot. By the time I remembered, kids were piling off the bus, ready to pah-tay. I've discovered how easy it is for my loved-ones to justify any little discrepency in my original plans... "oh, pizza delivery isn't eating out... you'll all be eating it here at home!" Yeah, whatever. I ordered the pizzas and never looked back.
This past weekend, I chaperoned a Girl Scout trip to Massachusetts with Kate's troop. I knew there was going to be a lot of eating out, so I planned accordingly... I packed crackers, peanut butter, nuts, snacks, a water jug. And, I ate out every chance I got. Well, the fast had already been broken.
So, here's the deal. I figure four weeks is almost as good as five. It's four more than I've ever lasted before! And I have become keenly aware of how eating out affects my life in so many ways... This past month I've stayed home more than ever, knowing I can't just grab something to eat while we're out running errands. Also, because we've had more home-cooked suppers, I've had to rely more on the kids to help out in the kitchen... and now my kitchen looks better than ever!
I wish I had kept better records of the times I've wanted to eat out, just to know if I've actually saved any money. And, just for the record, I don't think I've necessarily lost any weight, so maybe there's a chance that at least my eating out habits are relatively healthy (or contrariwise, my eating in habits are equally unhealthy). Anyway, it was a learning experience for me, and you'll be the first to know if it permanently affects the way I live my life.
Saturday, March 28, 2009
Scramble off the pedestal
"You better scramble down off that pedestal as fast as you can, before you fall off it!" -Roger C.
How many possible ways can I make it all about me?
In my ongoing endeavor to inform people of my own humanness, I assume most of them have me up on a pedestal (like the rest of the world I've created for myself). I've already mentioned the Facebook friend who recently expressed confidence in my "cleanliness is next to godliness" approach in the Nursery. I chatted with her today and discovered why she ever mentioned it to me in the first place.
I wrongly assumed she wrongly assumed I was a clean freak. But no! Her sister also volunteers in the Nursery and had told her how much I like to clean things. So, the fact is, EABC Nursery law requires all toys that may have touched a child's mouth to be sanitized at the end of the church service. I enforce the law. I may be a little bossy in my approach.
"Oh yeah, that Michelle makes sure we clean every single moveable object in the place before we're dismissed from our duty!" becomes "I assume since you are working today, the children will get their hands cleaned before snack!" which becomes "Why do other, less-experienced mothers worry about cleanliness so much, because I certainly do not! Look at me, I'm just plain old me! I let my kids eat dirt for breakfast! Don't think so highly of me! I'm just an experienced mother of five, and if there's one thing I've learned in all my years of successful, though happenstance parenting, it's what doesn't kill them can only make them stronger!"
This may be a good time to share with you the dream I had where I am participating in a musical production, and at the crucial point, lights dim the stage as the spotlight shines bright on just me, and I raise my hands triumphantly and sing (yes, there's a tune) out loud, "it's all about me.. ME! It's all about ME!" Again with the dream interpretation... seems pretty obvious, don't you think?
The point? I know there have been some mothers along the way who have been fairly impressed with my "skills" as a mom. It has become my goal in recent years to let them know I make so many mistakes and struggle in so many ways, that I just have to laugh out loud. In the process, however, I have come to assume everyone is thoroughly impressed with me at all times. I'm not waiting to discover who's got me on a pedestal, I'm just climbing right up there to save everyone the trouble of that rather weighty lift. And from up high, I dare to preach down about how I don't deserve to be there, and how I'll be right down if everyone could please just step aside. Ironic.
And humbling, too. So a big shout out to my heretofore unnamed Facebook friend who wishes to remain anonymous (I think I'll just call you... Anne?... Annie?... Hannah?... Mrs. C.?... still working on that pseudonym). Thank you for pointing out how low to the ground this pedestal actually is.
How many possible ways can I make it all about me?
In my ongoing endeavor to inform people of my own humanness, I assume most of them have me up on a pedestal (like the rest of the world I've created for myself). I've already mentioned the Facebook friend who recently expressed confidence in my "cleanliness is next to godliness" approach in the Nursery. I chatted with her today and discovered why she ever mentioned it to me in the first place.
I wrongly assumed she wrongly assumed I was a clean freak. But no! Her sister also volunteers in the Nursery and had told her how much I like to clean things. So, the fact is, EABC Nursery law requires all toys that may have touched a child's mouth to be sanitized at the end of the church service. I enforce the law. I may be a little bossy in my approach.
"Oh yeah, that Michelle makes sure we clean every single moveable object in the place before we're dismissed from our duty!" becomes "I assume since you are working today, the children will get their hands cleaned before snack!" which becomes "Why do other, less-experienced mothers worry about cleanliness so much, because I certainly do not! Look at me, I'm just plain old me! I let my kids eat dirt for breakfast! Don't think so highly of me! I'm just an experienced mother of five, and if there's one thing I've learned in all my years of successful, though happenstance parenting, it's what doesn't kill them can only make them stronger!"
This may be a good time to share with you the dream I had where I am participating in a musical production, and at the crucial point, lights dim the stage as the spotlight shines bright on just me, and I raise my hands triumphantly and sing (yes, there's a tune) out loud, "it's all about me.. ME! It's all about ME!" Again with the dream interpretation... seems pretty obvious, don't you think?
The point? I know there have been some mothers along the way who have been fairly impressed with my "skills" as a mom. It has become my goal in recent years to let them know I make so many mistakes and struggle in so many ways, that I just have to laugh out loud. In the process, however, I have come to assume everyone is thoroughly impressed with me at all times. I'm not waiting to discover who's got me on a pedestal, I'm just climbing right up there to save everyone the trouble of that rather weighty lift. And from up high, I dare to preach down about how I don't deserve to be there, and how I'll be right down if everyone could please just step aside. Ironic.
And humbling, too. So a big shout out to my heretofore unnamed Facebook friend who wishes to remain anonymous (I think I'll just call you... Anne?... Annie?... Hannah?... Mrs. C.?... still working on that pseudonym). Thank you for pointing out how low to the ground this pedestal actually is.
Patient? Responsible? Me?!
As a mother of five healthy, active, social children, I often hear the question, "how do you DO it, Michelle!?" I assume they are mostly impressed with the fact that all five children still have all their limbs. But really, that's not much of an accomplishment, even with the least bit of neglect on my part. Almost anyone can raise children with all extremities intact.
I believe the general impression people have of me is that I'm an abnormally patient mother. Oh? I say looks can be deceiving, and here is a sad, but true illustration of how people may just see what they want to see. And who am I to correct them!?
As so many of my stories begin, I was pregnant when... I was traveling with my four children along Route 20 through Central New York. We had spent several days visiting our Cazenovia friends, and were headed to the suburbs of Albany to visit the Levasalmi family before heading back home to Maine. I had heaped bins and bags in the front seat for easy access to snacks, diapers, books, movies, and various other tranquilizers. We had been on the road for well over an hour, and the kids were in no mood for restraint.
I do not have pleasant memories of the ride thus far. Simply put, I was in a foul mood myself... a real force to be reckoned with. I had pulled over at one point, and released a stream of unpleasantries in the direction of the back seats, forcefully explaining why children should just sit quietly and get along while mothers drove stupid minivans down the highway ("stupid" is a swearword in our home... they knew I was really mad when I let that one fly!). I pulled back into traffic (it's a rural highway... there may have been three other cars around), ignoring the stifled giggles and dramatic eye-rolling behind me.
In no time at all, I passed a state trooper traveling north as I sped south. I briefly debated the option of pulling onto a side road and covering the van with branches, in a Hazzard County style evasion technique. Quick math told me I'd lose valuable time (I hoped to get to Albany before lunch), so I kept up the harried pace. You've already guessed he tracked me down and pulled me over.
"You have to admit 72 in a 55 is pretty fast. I'm going to have to ticket you."
The insurance card in my visor was not current. I couldn't get to my vehicle registration - it was stuck in the glove compartment, which was blocked by the bins, remember? No matter, he could look that up. I pulled out my old New York license - expired. Inspection - 28ish days overdue (did he really care? that's a MAINE inspection, for crying out loud). He took what pitiful proof I provided back to his cruiser... I spent the time lecturing the children on proper criminal etiquette.
The officer was shaking his head when he returned to my window. "This New York license?... suspended for an unpaid speeding ticket from four years ago. That means your right to drive in this state has been revoked." Unbelievable. Including speeding, there were five infractions total... three misdemeanors, and two felonies. "By law, I'm supposed to cuff you and take you downtown for just one felony charge."
"But," he added, as he leaned into the van and looked back at all the kids (no doubt wondering how he'd legally get the kids all downtown, too), "you seem like a responsible person... so I'm just going to give you three tickets." Then he warned me to continue driving (at the speed limit) until I got out of the state, and to update my insurance card and take care of the expired registration, the overdue inspection, the suspended license and the unpaid speeding tickets. I smiled and nodded.
The Levasalmis and I had a good chuckle over the story at breakfast the next morning.
Responsible? I admit the children were all properly seated and buckled (for once!), but don't ever confuse fertility with responsibility, sir! Patient? I'm probably just ignoring them half the time! Never confuse lazy neglect for patience, folks.
I believe the general impression people have of me is that I'm an abnormally patient mother. Oh? I say looks can be deceiving, and here is a sad, but true illustration of how people may just see what they want to see. And who am I to correct them!?
As so many of my stories begin, I was pregnant when... I was traveling with my four children along Route 20 through Central New York. We had spent several days visiting our Cazenovia friends, and were headed to the suburbs of Albany to visit the Levasalmi family before heading back home to Maine. I had heaped bins and bags in the front seat for easy access to snacks, diapers, books, movies, and various other tranquilizers. We had been on the road for well over an hour, and the kids were in no mood for restraint.
I do not have pleasant memories of the ride thus far. Simply put, I was in a foul mood myself... a real force to be reckoned with. I had pulled over at one point, and released a stream of unpleasantries in the direction of the back seats, forcefully explaining why children should just sit quietly and get along while mothers drove stupid minivans down the highway ("stupid" is a swearword in our home... they knew I was really mad when I let that one fly!). I pulled back into traffic (it's a rural highway... there may have been three other cars around), ignoring the stifled giggles and dramatic eye-rolling behind me.
In no time at all, I passed a state trooper traveling north as I sped south. I briefly debated the option of pulling onto a side road and covering the van with branches, in a Hazzard County style evasion technique. Quick math told me I'd lose valuable time (I hoped to get to Albany before lunch), so I kept up the harried pace. You've already guessed he tracked me down and pulled me over.
"You have to admit 72 in a 55 is pretty fast. I'm going to have to ticket you."
The insurance card in my visor was not current. I couldn't get to my vehicle registration - it was stuck in the glove compartment, which was blocked by the bins, remember? No matter, he could look that up. I pulled out my old New York license - expired. Inspection - 28ish days overdue (did he really care? that's a MAINE inspection, for crying out loud). He took what pitiful proof I provided back to his cruiser... I spent the time lecturing the children on proper criminal etiquette.
The officer was shaking his head when he returned to my window. "This New York license?... suspended for an unpaid speeding ticket from four years ago. That means your right to drive in this state has been revoked." Unbelievable. Including speeding, there were five infractions total... three misdemeanors, and two felonies. "By law, I'm supposed to cuff you and take you downtown for just one felony charge."
"But," he added, as he leaned into the van and looked back at all the kids (no doubt wondering how he'd legally get the kids all downtown, too), "you seem like a responsible person... so I'm just going to give you three tickets." Then he warned me to continue driving (at the speed limit) until I got out of the state, and to update my insurance card and take care of the expired registration, the overdue inspection, the suspended license and the unpaid speeding tickets. I smiled and nodded.
The Levasalmis and I had a good chuckle over the story at breakfast the next morning.
Responsible? I admit the children were all properly seated and buckled (for once!), but don't ever confuse fertility with responsibility, sir! Patient? I'm probably just ignoring them half the time! Never confuse lazy neglect for patience, folks.
Thursday, March 26, 2009
Emily's Wedding Planning Begins
I wanted to share the ongoing story of my friend Emily, who babysits my kids. Here is a copy of the letter I sent to a seemingly random ecuadorian woman who married a US citizen in Ecuador. We found Wendy by Googling "Ecuador Wedding", or something like that. I sent out an initial, "here's what we're looking for" note, she wrote back asking for details. I add my next letter in its entirety ( slightly edited to fit the format of your attention span), mostly to document yet another chapter of my life:
OK, here is the story of my good friend, Emily and her Ecuadorian wedding....
Emily was born and raised in the small, rural town of Mechanic Falls, Maine (US). I met her when she was 2 years old... her mother was/is good friends with Scott's mother. I was nearly in college at the time, and I only saw her when Scott and I would visit his mother's church. After graduation, I married Scott, and we moved out of state for several years... nine moves in six years of marriage, and we moved back home. By now, Emily was in college herself, but stayed at home during the summer months. We hired her as a babysitter for our children.
Meanwhile, Emily had been taking extensive Spanish classes, and was studying to work with underprivileged children, both locally as well as on missions trips to Ecuador. I know she has travelled to Quito with our church, but most recently she is helping start a foundation for orphans in Guayaquil (sp?). She has graduated college and is in the midst of forming a non-profit group which will provide financial aid for food, clothing and most important, education for these kids. She has fallen in love with the kids, with her mission, with Ecuador... and now, with Alex!
As I understand, Alex is a singer/worship leader in Guayaquil. When Emily is home in Maine, they keep in touch via the internet, and have spent over a year getting to know each other. On her most recent 6-week visit to Ecuador, they became engaged, and want the wedding to be in Ecuador... the ultimate plan finds them living in Guayaquil, assisting with running the foundation.
The other day, Emily and I spent hours on the internet, trying to find out about local Ecuadorian wedding customs or traditions... any hints on getting married in Ecuador (with the added complication of the gringa planning from so far away!).
The only tradition Emily thinks she knows involves the maid of honor wearing red. She wants the wedding to be fun (though there will most likely be no alcohol, and perhaps little dancing, as it is an evangelical Christian event), he wants it to be romantic. There will be both locals and non-spanish speaking US citizens attending. The couple has little money (which I understand is a relative term, considering the difference between here and there) to spend on the wedding itself. Emily says flowers are very easy to get, as well as very cheap to buy... she wants lots of flowers. She wants photos done at the park of Malecon, though the church she works with is in a "bad" section of Guayaquil, about half an hour away... she is flexible on where the ceremony will take place, she doesn't know where else to look right now.
Really, she's been engaged for less than a month, and is so overwhelmed with the idea itself... now she's trying to plan for a wedding in October, in another country. We have searched for photos, suggestions, customs, ideas online, but nothing very helpful comes up (she doesn't want to hire someone in the "destination wedding" business). I am so excited by your prompt reply and willingness to assist... if, in my excitement I get too annoying to you, please let me know. =} She's like a little sister to me, and I just want to help her make her wedding dreams a memorable experience for her.
As you can imagine, Emily is taller than Alex... I think she's about 5'7", and he may be 5'2". I add that fact, just because it's one detail I know. Otherwise, I really don't know much about much. Please let me know what else I can provide that would help you to help us.
Wendy's next response was amazing. She was married in the same city where Emily plans to marry. She has contact names, numbers and emails for people and places all over Guayaquil that will prove extremely helpful for Emily. She sent back a few initial ideas and suggestions, and encouraged us to send questions as they arise. She also was very encouraging to Emily in her mission with the street kids. It's very cool how this is all working out.
OK, here is the story of my good friend, Emily and her Ecuadorian wedding....
Emily was born and raised in the small, rural town of Mechanic Falls, Maine (US). I met her when she was 2 years old... her mother was/is good friends with Scott's mother. I was nearly in college at the time, and I only saw her when Scott and I would visit his mother's church. After graduation, I married Scott, and we moved out of state for several years... nine moves in six years of marriage, and we moved back home. By now, Emily was in college herself, but stayed at home during the summer months. We hired her as a babysitter for our children.
Meanwhile, Emily had been taking extensive Spanish classes, and was studying to work with underprivileged children, both locally as well as on missions trips to Ecuador. I know she has travelled to Quito with our church, but most recently she is helping start a foundation for orphans in Guayaquil (sp?). She has graduated college and is in the midst of forming a non-profit group which will provide financial aid for food, clothing and most important, education for these kids. She has fallen in love with the kids, with her mission, with Ecuador... and now, with Alex!
As I understand, Alex is a singer/worship leader in Guayaquil. When Emily is home in Maine, they keep in touch via the internet, and have spent over a year getting to know each other. On her most recent 6-week visit to Ecuador, they became engaged, and want the wedding to be in Ecuador... the ultimate plan finds them living in Guayaquil, assisting with running the foundation.
The other day, Emily and I spent hours on the internet, trying to find out about local Ecuadorian wedding customs or traditions... any hints on getting married in Ecuador (with the added complication of the gringa planning from so far away!).
The only tradition Emily thinks she knows involves the maid of honor wearing red. She wants the wedding to be fun (though there will most likely be no alcohol, and perhaps little dancing, as it is an evangelical Christian event), he wants it to be romantic. There will be both locals and non-spanish speaking US citizens attending. The couple has little money (which I understand is a relative term, considering the difference between here and there) to spend on the wedding itself. Emily says flowers are very easy to get, as well as very cheap to buy... she wants lots of flowers. She wants photos done at the park of Malecon, though the church she works with is in a "bad" section of Guayaquil, about half an hour away... she is flexible on where the ceremony will take place, she doesn't know where else to look right now.
Really, she's been engaged for less than a month, and is so overwhelmed with the idea itself... now she's trying to plan for a wedding in October, in another country. We have searched for photos, suggestions, customs, ideas online, but nothing very helpful comes up (she doesn't want to hire someone in the "destination wedding" business). I am so excited by your prompt reply and willingness to assist... if, in my excitement I get too annoying to you, please let me know. =} She's like a little sister to me, and I just want to help her make her wedding dreams a memorable experience for her.
As you can imagine, Emily is taller than Alex... I think she's about 5'7", and he may be 5'2". I add that fact, just because it's one detail I know. Otherwise, I really don't know much about much. Please let me know what else I can provide that would help you to help us.
Wendy's next response was amazing. She was married in the same city where Emily plans to marry. She has contact names, numbers and emails for people and places all over Guayaquil that will prove extremely helpful for Emily. She sent back a few initial ideas and suggestions, and encouraged us to send questions as they arise. She also was very encouraging to Emily in her mission with the street kids. It's very cool how this is all working out.
Last night I had a dream that all the snow had melted. It was kind of strange, because I couldn't remember it melting... it was just here one day, and gone the next. Because I'm interested in dream interpretation, you might think I've analyzed this one to pieces. But actually, I'm pretty sure it just means that Spring is coming (a no-brainer, really) (even you could have guessed that... and you probably haven't read nearly as many Dream Interpretation books as I have!).
So, be of good cheer! Spring *is* coming... and soon you'll be swatting black flies and mosquitoes, wishing it was Winter.
So, be of good cheer! Spring *is* coming... and soon you'll be swatting black flies and mosquitoes, wishing it was Winter.
Friday, March 20, 2009
This morning Sophie and I were discussing our cat, Bombo... the one we had to put down a year ago because he was getting sickly and old. She was really asking about Max (the dog) and his future, and where do the animals go when they die? I told her I think they go to their own "animal heaven", which satisfied her curiosity.
In the end, she concluded that when Max goes, "he's going to be dead for the rest of his life". Ah, out of the mouths of babes!
In the end, she concluded that when Max goes, "he's going to be dead for the rest of his life". Ah, out of the mouths of babes!
Wednesday, March 18, 2009
I guess because I have so many kids, people think I should write a book. I've often wondered what it is about me and my life that intrigues these people (or at least prompts them to make such ghastly statements). I've tried to pay attention, looking for any differences that may set me apart. Here's what I've come up with so far... I have more kids than most people, strangers think my kids are well-behaved, and people see what they want to see.
Since I am not adequately motivated to start that book just yet, let me use this forum to clear up at least two misconceptions about me. While there's no denying I've survived more pregnancies than most people I know, and I regularly threaten my kids to behave when they are in public with me (or else!), let me assure you it's not all rainbows and sunshine.
I know one at least on Facebook friend is concerned about her own imperfections because she's looked at all my Facebook photo albums. Michelle's kids are always smiling and getting along! To that I reply with a simple but forceful, "HA!" Do you think I want to post the ugly stuff? Do you know how many rolls of film it takes to get one decent photo for Christmas cards each year!?! (Answer: on average, I'd say four to five rolls of 36 exposure, expensive professional film.) For future reference, I plan on posting several less-than-beccoming photos of the little miscreants. It won't hurt my feelings at all if you see a few of my flaws (read that: misbehaving children).
In another recent story involving yet another Facebook friend (mere coincidence, I am sure) found me working the front desk at our church nursery. She leaned in, confidentially, and said, "I assume since you are working today, the children will wash their hands before snack." I almost laughed out loud, but tried hard to maintain my composure. Do you mean to imply that I keep track of washing my own children's hands and that I consciously avoid germ contamination? Again with the "HA!" As my father before me has stated time and again, "what doesn't kill them makes them stronger." I know it sounds a little harsh, but aren't they all going to get sick at some point anyway?
I have told you before, I do love my children. And I don't like to see them sick or hurt (or misbehaving in public). But if it will help another mother to know the struggles I face, I will do my best to encourage you any way I can. I am not a germaphobe... I think dirt is a kid's best friend, really. The next socially-acceptable time for a person to get covered with mud is in adulthood when they go for a spa treatment - and if they have kids in their adult years, we all know the chances of that ever happening! So, get 'em grubby, Mom! Let 'em live! It keeps kids busy for hours. I remember as a kid, sitting (playing for hours) in mud puddles, having mud fights, swimming in questionable ponds... I survived! I'm happy! I have good memories! Also, it's free.
So now you know two, dark, ugly truths about me... my kids don't always behave (but the pictures sure make it seem like they do) (which is another way of telling you what a talented photographer I am!), and I let them get dirty and sick (which is another way of saying I tend toward laziness and neglect). Seriously, I spend a lot of my time wondering where I failed in the upbringing and training of these people - they are embarrassingly naughty at times, and they fight like it's their purpose in life. They refuse to clean their rooms (more on that later), they whine whenever I ask them to do a chore, they wear the same underwear for days on end, and they've been known to lie to my face.
It's not all discouraging news, really. But just so you know, this is a hard job, and I apologize for making it look easy. I plan on revealing more dirty secrets in future posts, so keep visiting. Before long, you'll see me in a whole new light... and you, too may laugh at the thought of me writing a book!
Since I am not adequately motivated to start that book just yet, let me use this forum to clear up at least two misconceptions about me. While there's no denying I've survived more pregnancies than most people I know, and I regularly threaten my kids to behave when they are in public with me (or else!), let me assure you it's not all rainbows and sunshine.
I know one at least on Facebook friend is concerned about her own imperfections because she's looked at all my Facebook photo albums. Michelle's kids are always smiling and getting along! To that I reply with a simple but forceful, "HA!" Do you think I want to post the ugly stuff? Do you know how many rolls of film it takes to get one decent photo for Christmas cards each year!?! (Answer: on average, I'd say four to five rolls of 36 exposure, expensive professional film.) For future reference, I plan on posting several less-than-beccoming photos of the little miscreants. It won't hurt my feelings at all if you see a few of my flaws (read that: misbehaving children).
In another recent story involving yet another Facebook friend (mere coincidence, I am sure) found me working the front desk at our church nursery. She leaned in, confidentially, and said, "I assume since you are working today, the children will wash their hands before snack." I almost laughed out loud, but tried hard to maintain my composure. Do you mean to imply that I keep track of washing my own children's hands and that I consciously avoid germ contamination? Again with the "HA!" As my father before me has stated time and again, "what doesn't kill them makes them stronger." I know it sounds a little harsh, but aren't they all going to get sick at some point anyway?
I have told you before, I do love my children. And I don't like to see them sick or hurt (or misbehaving in public). But if it will help another mother to know the struggles I face, I will do my best to encourage you any way I can. I am not a germaphobe... I think dirt is a kid's best friend, really. The next socially-acceptable time for a person to get covered with mud is in adulthood when they go for a spa treatment - and if they have kids in their adult years, we all know the chances of that ever happening! So, get 'em grubby, Mom! Let 'em live! It keeps kids busy for hours. I remember as a kid, sitting (playing for hours) in mud puddles, having mud fights, swimming in questionable ponds... I survived! I'm happy! I have good memories! Also, it's free.
So now you know two, dark, ugly truths about me... my kids don't always behave (but the pictures sure make it seem like they do) (which is another way of telling you what a talented photographer I am!), and I let them get dirty and sick (which is another way of saying I tend toward laziness and neglect). Seriously, I spend a lot of my time wondering where I failed in the upbringing and training of these people - they are embarrassingly naughty at times, and they fight like it's their purpose in life. They refuse to clean their rooms (more on that later), they whine whenever I ask them to do a chore, they wear the same underwear for days on end, and they've been known to lie to my face.
It's not all discouraging news, really. But just so you know, this is a hard job, and I apologize for making it look easy. I plan on revealing more dirty secrets in future posts, so keep visiting. Before long, you'll see me in a whole new light... and you, too may laugh at the thought of me writing a book!
Thursday, March 12, 2009
Check out the Two Fools link on YouTube: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=BdxSq_h243E&feature=channel_page It will give you a small idea of how we celebrate my father's birthday every year. He and his buddy, AJ have a landing strip in East Sumner, on my Uncle Stuart's property (the family farm). This thing grows every year.
I'm thinking it's about time to get a real, quality video camera up there to start archiving this stuff a little better. It's such a fun day, but because he's busy visiting and doing traffic control, Dad doesn't get to really see all the stuff that goes on. He only knows it was a nice day because that's what he's heard from so many who attended.
It's usually the weekend closest to October 16, FYI. There's lots of food and many, many airplanes to watch fly in and out and around. Consider this your invitation. If I hear back from you, I will give you directions. =)
I'm thinking it's about time to get a real, quality video camera up there to start archiving this stuff a little better. It's such a fun day, but because he's busy visiting and doing traffic control, Dad doesn't get to really see all the stuff that goes on. He only knows it was a nice day because that's what he's heard from so many who attended.
It's usually the weekend closest to October 16, FYI. There's lots of food and many, many airplanes to watch fly in and out and around. Consider this your invitation. If I hear back from you, I will give you directions. =)
Friday, March 6, 2009
Now we move on to Patricia Katherine Bourget, called Kate or Katey.
It's funny how two children raised so closely together can be so different. This is not to say Lilly and Kate are night and day, but it's amazing how Kate has managed to carve out her own niche so clearly and so well.
No one in this family is so attached to family and tradition as is my little Kateybug. She loves having things just so, and thrives when all goes according to plan. She strives to be helpful and cheerful, and aims to please. She is quiet, usually, and ever-observing the big picture. She soaks things in, and remembers many small details... so like her mother that way. And actually, she reminds me more of myself than any of my children. She has sudden mood swings, but overall remains calm and controlled whenever possible.
She has a great sense of humor which often surprises me for someone the tender age of ten. She is wise beyond her years, which adds depth to her humor. She gets jokes that fly past some adults in her acquaintance. She tells jokes those same adults miss completely. She appreciates nuance and subtlety.
Katey is a dedicated scholar, athlete and musician. She works hard to excel in all areas. She pushes herself to exceed the standard, and often gets frustrated when she can't reach the limits she's set for herself. She is precise in following directions, and as such is the most talented musician in the household.
Her looks are almost exotic - the camera loves her almost as much as she loves the camera. She would love to model. She enjoys performing in every sense of the word. She's a natural-born actress, with a particular eye for drama. I love watching her performances, and will not be surprised if she pursues performing arts in college and beyond.
She appreciates a good, honest talk, and is fun to take on dates, or trips, or just anywhere. She is my best assistant photographer, in fact, and my photography improves when she works with me. She has a calming effect on me when I work, and acts as a great distraction and instructor for my younger clients.
More than anyone in my life, Kate inspires me to be a better person. I am well aware she watches me wherever I go, whatever I say or do, whenever she is able. She has a keen eye for honesty, perferring the truth to sugar-coating or deceipt. I have enjoyed watching her grow, and am very interested in the paths she will choose for her future.
Let's begin a little documentary on my children, so when they are grown they will see that I really was paying attention, after all. And they will know it wasn't my only intent in life to make them miserable... I also intend to reveal and embarrass them, sharing the wonderful details of our life together as they learn and grow (OK, we're all learning and growing).
I'll start in the beginning. My firstborn, of course, is Lilly, nee Lillian Abbott Bourget. Now 12, she is in the second half of her eighth grade year at Oxford Middle School. My original pride and joy, she continually raises the bar unattainably high for all her younger siblings. She excels at nearly everything she attempts, including (but not limited to) academics, sports, and musical endeavors. She is a natural... her one downfall is when something doesn't come easy to her, she becomes easily frustrated and chooses defeat over struggle.
As you can see (and as mentioned in an earlier blog), she really is quite a beauty. In these early stages of pubescence, she is tall and curvy... attributes I can neither take credit for, nor personally claim. I am awed by who she is, and often overwhelmed just to behold her. I feel so blessed to know her, moreso to say she is mine, and admit I have had a hand in her upbringing.
Of course I love her... she's my firstborn offspring. But on top of all this, I honestly LIKE her. She's fun to be around... bright, witty, appreciative of humor, respectful, and generally easy to get along with. She is open and honest, and willing to admit when she is wrong. She gives me hope for the future of this poor world.
Certainly there are times she acts her age. I am often surprised, but mostly I accept the discrepency. She deserves to let her hair down, and I can't expect more of someone who is so much already.
I was sitting in a chair the other day, with Sophie standing next to me. Out of the blue she looks up at me and says, "s'cuse me"... followed shortly by her explanation, "I tooted". She gave a little blushy laugh, then went on to add, "it's hard when you're close to someone. Because you don't know if you're saying 'get out of the way' or 'I tooted'".
I just thought that was funny, and wanted to remember it.
Thursday, March 5, 2009
Wednesday, March 4, 2009
My children and I have decided to follow a Catholic tradition by observing Lent this year. Briefly, I will say I have given up eating out (which, sadly, is actually quite a sacrifice for me), Lilly has given up using the computer for entertainment purposes, Kate has given up whining, grumping, fighting and saying 'no', Sam has given up french fries, Sophie has given up spasketti from Ari's, and I think Molly has given up fish sandwiches from McDonald's.
You may notice a theme centered around my habit of frequent eating out. And yes, we consider MickeyD's eating out. It's been nearly a week, and I am proud to report I have not eaten out yet, and even the kids who haven't officially given it up (read that: Lilly and Kate), politely decline the opportunity to buy a snack or meal while out and about. I have extended my intent to include purchasing prepared meals, so I've been making lunch everyday for the kids, too. This morning, Sophie and I have a doctor's appointment, and I will be packing a lunch for that.
If you are the type to take your lunch with you to work everyday, or cook supper every night, you may think this is no big whoop. Suffice to say my kids think I have lost my mind. And I guess that's what Lent is all about after all... learning to live without something you really thought you needed in the first place.
You may notice a theme centered around my habit of frequent eating out. And yes, we consider MickeyD's eating out. It's been nearly a week, and I am proud to report I have not eaten out yet, and even the kids who haven't officially given it up (read that: Lilly and Kate), politely decline the opportunity to buy a snack or meal while out and about. I have extended my intent to include purchasing prepared meals, so I've been making lunch everyday for the kids, too. This morning, Sophie and I have a doctor's appointment, and I will be packing a lunch for that.
If you are the type to take your lunch with you to work everyday, or cook supper every night, you may think this is no big whoop. Suffice to say my kids think I have lost my mind. And I guess that's what Lent is all about after all... learning to live without something you really thought you needed in the first place.
You know I love my children. Until I had children, I didn't realize I had such a capacity for love. I mean, I've always loved kids, but my own children..! Oh, the amazing, profound intensity of it!
This love feels so blinding that sometimes I have to stop and ask myself if these little people might be the proverbial "face only a mother could love." Because, you know, people everywhere tell me how beautiful my children are. (I can tell you this without shame, because I know their looks really have nothing to do with me, in the sense that other than donating several genes, I didn't have anything to do with the way they look. Their looks are definitely out of my control.) Of course, I'm the mother, so I believe they are the most beautiful of God's creations. But I wonder if people give compliments just to be polite, or if, in general, people think babies and kids are cute so they make those sorts of comments.
Mind you, I'm not fishing for compliments, here. This is just something that pops into my head from time to time, particularly when I'm in line at Wal-Mart and observe one stranger compliment another stranger's average-looking baby. (I never said I was nice all the time!) I stand there and think, 'hm, if she thinks that kid is cute, which it obviously isn't, then why is she saying that?!' Which leads me to wonder if this same lady in line would have the same compliments for my kids, which leads me to think maybe my own kids are just average kids, after all.
Which part of me really hopes is true, because I don't need all kinds of headaches and worries when it comes time for dating! Although, in my experience, plain, average, and ugly people do end up on dates. I consider myself to be fairly average in the looks department, and I even ended up married! Which says a lot for personality, I guess.
So in the end, I'm hoping to influence in some positive way, my children's behavior, attitude, personality... let's just call it social skills. And, not to brag (OK, to brag a little bit), I do get a lot of compliments from strangers on my children's manners. I teach them to have actual conversation with adults, I demonstrate and practice phone skills with them, we go over table manners regularly and consistently. We go beyond the 'please' and 'thank you', to shaking hands properly, making eye contact, answering adults' questions, and even something as simple as smiling.
Recently, yet another mother asked if she could send her child to my house to learn some manners. The kids and I are currently planning an official "Bourget Bootcamp" website. They have lots of ideas for video instruction (some of which may get me hauled off by the Department for Child Welfare) and are eager to demonstrate for other children and parents how we go about the teaching/learning process here at Chez Bourget. I think they want other kids to know it's possible to be mature and still be a kid (although maybe they're just eager to have me hauled off).
At any rate, I do love my kids, inside and out. And honestly, I know they are some good lookin' people.
This love feels so blinding that sometimes I have to stop and ask myself if these little people might be the proverbial "face only a mother could love." Because, you know, people everywhere tell me how beautiful my children are. (I can tell you this without shame, because I know their looks really have nothing to do with me, in the sense that other than donating several genes, I didn't have anything to do with the way they look. Their looks are definitely out of my control.) Of course, I'm the mother, so I believe they are the most beautiful of God's creations. But I wonder if people give compliments just to be polite, or if, in general, people think babies and kids are cute so they make those sorts of comments.
Mind you, I'm not fishing for compliments, here. This is just something that pops into my head from time to time, particularly when I'm in line at Wal-Mart and observe one stranger compliment another stranger's average-looking baby. (I never said I was nice all the time!) I stand there and think, 'hm, if she thinks that kid is cute, which it obviously isn't, then why is she saying that?!' Which leads me to wonder if this same lady in line would have the same compliments for my kids, which leads me to think maybe my own kids are just average kids, after all.
Which part of me really hopes is true, because I don't need all kinds of headaches and worries when it comes time for dating! Although, in my experience, plain, average, and ugly people do end up on dates. I consider myself to be fairly average in the looks department, and I even ended up married! Which says a lot for personality, I guess.
So in the end, I'm hoping to influence in some positive way, my children's behavior, attitude, personality... let's just call it social skills. And, not to brag (OK, to brag a little bit), I do get a lot of compliments from strangers on my children's manners. I teach them to have actual conversation with adults, I demonstrate and practice phone skills with them, we go over table manners regularly and consistently. We go beyond the 'please' and 'thank you', to shaking hands properly, making eye contact, answering adults' questions, and even something as simple as smiling.
Recently, yet another mother asked if she could send her child to my house to learn some manners. The kids and I are currently planning an official "Bourget Bootcamp" website. They have lots of ideas for video instruction (some of which may get me hauled off by the Department for Child Welfare) and are eager to demonstrate for other children and parents how we go about the teaching/learning process here at Chez Bourget. I think they want other kids to know it's possible to be mature and still be a kid (although maybe they're just eager to have me hauled off).
At any rate, I do love my kids, inside and out. And honestly, I know they are some good lookin' people.
Tuesday, February 24, 2009
Because my friends read this, and many of you know each other, I'll change your names at my discretion (to protect the innocent) when recounting tales of our adventures together. Today I will write about Jane (named changed to protect her innocence) (well, I mean...) (ummm)... anyway.
In a recent email, Jane was telling me about her everyday stress, and how she took a moment to think about God and how small she is in the grand scheme of things, and how insignificant her worries and problems really are. Well, that may be all well and good for her, because she told me it helped to calm her down a little, but I immediately thought how contrary that is to my own thinking.
Naturally, I gave her a piece of my mind. And now you get to read all about it.
When I think of God, and my worries, and how much there is going on in the universe, I am amazed that HE cares about me and my worries. The Bible says it, and I believe it.
American Standard Version
1 Peter 5:7 casting all your anxiety upon him, because he careth for you.
Psalm 55:22 Cast your burden upon the LORD and He will sustain you; He will never allow the righteous to be shaken.
It doesn't say that our worries or cares are insignificant, just that God knows we have them, and knows we'd love to be rid of them, and wants to bear the burden for us. Isn't it nice knowing we don't have to carry all that junk around? Knowing all this gets me through the grieving process, day by day. It gets me through my day by day, period.
I love when I can think of some verse I heard somewhere, even if I can't think specifically what it was. In this case, I remembered a sort of phrase ("cast all your cares upon Him...") and Googled it. Immediately I was staring at a list of probably matches. One thing led to another, and soon I was learning a favorite verse all over again. I really appreciate the internet availability of verses and sermons... it's a quick and easy solution for those of us who don't know the Bible inside and out.
Also, if you're trying to encourage a friend, she can be as impressed with your biblical knowledge as Jane was with me and mine. Of course, if Jane's reading this, now she knows my secret. But only if she can figure out my complicated witness-protection identity replacement.
In a recent email, Jane was telling me about her everyday stress, and how she took a moment to think about God and how small she is in the grand scheme of things, and how insignificant her worries and problems really are. Well, that may be all well and good for her, because she told me it helped to calm her down a little, but I immediately thought how contrary that is to my own thinking.
Naturally, I gave her a piece of my mind. And now you get to read all about it.
When I think of God, and my worries, and how much there is going on in the universe, I am amazed that HE cares about me and my worries. The Bible says it, and I believe it.
American Standard Version
1 Peter 5:7 casting all your anxiety upon him, because he careth for you.
Psalm 55:22 Cast your burden upon the LORD and He will sustain you; He will never allow the righteous to be shaken.
It doesn't say that our worries or cares are insignificant, just that God knows we have them, and knows we'd love to be rid of them, and wants to bear the burden for us. Isn't it nice knowing we don't have to carry all that junk around? Knowing all this gets me through the grieving process, day by day. It gets me through my day by day, period.
I love when I can think of some verse I heard somewhere, even if I can't think specifically what it was. In this case, I remembered a sort of phrase ("cast all your cares upon Him...") and Googled it. Immediately I was staring at a list of probably matches. One thing led to another, and soon I was learning a favorite verse all over again. I really appreciate the internet availability of verses and sermons... it's a quick and easy solution for those of us who don't know the Bible inside and out.
Also, if you're trying to encourage a friend, she can be as impressed with your biblical knowledge as Jane was with me and mine. Of course, if Jane's reading this, now she knows my secret. But only if she can figure out my complicated witness-protection identity replacement.
Sunday, February 8, 2009
This morning I took my girls to church, while Scott languished in bed with a migraine. Sam thought he better stay home and take care of Dad... which I understand he did an excellent job of, even though he spent the better part of the day at the computer (uninterrupted by envious sisters wanting their fair share of computer time). We enjoyed a relatively peaceful ride in Scott's car (such a nice change from the usual minibus circus that usually gets us places en masse).
I'm determined the reason the parking lot was so full (as were the seats when we got inside the church) was directly correlated to the fact we were running late today. If we had been running slightly ahead of schedule (as we actually do on the mornings we have nursery duty), the lot would have remained half-empty all day, and good seats would have been more than amply available. Whatever. Suffice to say, we had to drive around the lot looking for a parking space, then in the sanctuary we had to climb over people in the second row, and share seats with the little girls because there weren't enough to go around. Plus, we missed most of the songs (I didn't realize we were THAT far behind schedule!.. the clock must be different in Scott's car than in my van.)
For any of you that know Pastor Roger, you probably understand what I mean when I say he was in rare form today. For those of you that haven't had the pleasure of hearing him preach, believe me when I say there is a good chance he has multiple-personality disorder on top of his OCD and ADHD. At any rate, he was distracting himself with his little side comments, and generally amusing himself... and most of the attendants... with entertaining tangents. He is starting a series on the life of Jesus, in an attempt to renew our First Love with Christ.
Warning: I may start to sound a little preachy here. But really, I just want to share some of my own reflections.
In a powerfully simple illustration, Pastor told of the "woman of questionable repute" who enterred the house of the Pharisee where Jesus was a dinner guest. She threw all social convention to the wind, and, overcome with passionate understanding for who Christ was, she wept continually as she cleaned the feet of Jesus with her tears and her own hair. To the Pharisee, this was the same as if a dog enterred his house and started licking the feet of Jesus. He was mortified, and thought to himself that if Jesus was truly a prophet, he would know this woman's reputation.
Of course, Jesus did know who this woman was, and gave his own illustration to the Pharisee:
Two men owed another man some money. One owed 50 denarii, and the other owed 100. the man forgave both debts. Which debtor was more grateful?
Pastor went on to explain the significance of this parable, but I kind of went off in my own thoughts, and considered this very strong point. Which person is going to most appreciate forgiveness?... the one who has lived such an ideal, to-the-law life, or the one who has struggled and sinned, and then found forgiveness and love and life in Christ? I considered those people who go through life in miserable, condemnable sin... how can God forgive them? Murderers? Rapists? Theives? It doesn't seem fair that I have worked hard to live an upright, moral life, and may actually end up in Heaven with the likes of these.
But who am I to decide how good is good enough? Or how bad is too bad? Is my own sin worth forgiving? Is upright living sufficient to earn me a place in heaven? Thank God I do not have to decide. I am not the judge. And now I see that those who struggle through this earthly life with sin and depravity will be so much more grateful for God's divine forgiveness and grace and mercy.
I pray that when I encounter someone who makes me think how "good" I am, I will try seeing them through God's eyes, and love them, and know there is eternal hope. Even for them. Perhaps moreso for them. And I will try to imagine how grateful they will be to discover God's grace for themselves.
We are coming up on a discussion of my own encounters with God's grace and mercy. It is the reason I ever considered starting a blog of my own in the first place. I feel the need to get down in print things I have experienced and learned over the past couple of years. This may be the part where you cry. But like the woman at Jesus' feet, they likey will be tears of mixed emotions--- ranging from sadness and regret to great joy and passionate appreciation for who Christ is and what He can do in the lives of those who merely ask to be used.
If you glimpse my Jesus, and realize that First Love, I will have exceeded my hopes for the success of this blog.
I'm determined the reason the parking lot was so full (as were the seats when we got inside the church) was directly correlated to the fact we were running late today. If we had been running slightly ahead of schedule (as we actually do on the mornings we have nursery duty), the lot would have remained half-empty all day, and good seats would have been more than amply available. Whatever. Suffice to say, we had to drive around the lot looking for a parking space, then in the sanctuary we had to climb over people in the second row, and share seats with the little girls because there weren't enough to go around. Plus, we missed most of the songs (I didn't realize we were THAT far behind schedule!.. the clock must be different in Scott's car than in my van.)
For any of you that know Pastor Roger, you probably understand what I mean when I say he was in rare form today. For those of you that haven't had the pleasure of hearing him preach, believe me when I say there is a good chance he has multiple-personality disorder on top of his OCD and ADHD. At any rate, he was distracting himself with his little side comments, and generally amusing himself... and most of the attendants... with entertaining tangents. He is starting a series on the life of Jesus, in an attempt to renew our First Love with Christ.
Warning: I may start to sound a little preachy here. But really, I just want to share some of my own reflections.
In a powerfully simple illustration, Pastor told of the "woman of questionable repute" who enterred the house of the Pharisee where Jesus was a dinner guest. She threw all social convention to the wind, and, overcome with passionate understanding for who Christ was, she wept continually as she cleaned the feet of Jesus with her tears and her own hair. To the Pharisee, this was the same as if a dog enterred his house and started licking the feet of Jesus. He was mortified, and thought to himself that if Jesus was truly a prophet, he would know this woman's reputation.
Of course, Jesus did know who this woman was, and gave his own illustration to the Pharisee:
Two men owed another man some money. One owed 50 denarii, and the other owed 100. the man forgave both debts. Which debtor was more grateful?
Pastor went on to explain the significance of this parable, but I kind of went off in my own thoughts, and considered this very strong point. Which person is going to most appreciate forgiveness?... the one who has lived such an ideal, to-the-law life, or the one who has struggled and sinned, and then found forgiveness and love and life in Christ? I considered those people who go through life in miserable, condemnable sin... how can God forgive them? Murderers? Rapists? Theives? It doesn't seem fair that I have worked hard to live an upright, moral life, and may actually end up in Heaven with the likes of these.
But who am I to decide how good is good enough? Or how bad is too bad? Is my own sin worth forgiving? Is upright living sufficient to earn me a place in heaven? Thank God I do not have to decide. I am not the judge. And now I see that those who struggle through this earthly life with sin and depravity will be so much more grateful for God's divine forgiveness and grace and mercy.
I pray that when I encounter someone who makes me think how "good" I am, I will try seeing them through God's eyes, and love them, and know there is eternal hope. Even for them. Perhaps moreso for them. And I will try to imagine how grateful they will be to discover God's grace for themselves.
We are coming up on a discussion of my own encounters with God's grace and mercy. It is the reason I ever considered starting a blog of my own in the first place. I feel the need to get down in print things I have experienced and learned over the past couple of years. This may be the part where you cry. But like the woman at Jesus' feet, they likey will be tears of mixed emotions--- ranging from sadness and regret to great joy and passionate appreciation for who Christ is and what He can do in the lives of those who merely ask to be used.
If you glimpse my Jesus, and realize that First Love, I will have exceeded my hopes for the success of this blog.
Wednesday, February 4, 2009
Any comments?
You encouraged me to blog. Now where's the feedback? I mean, I know I'm sporadic, at best, but I need to know if what's here is working for you?
Just so you know, too, I am up off my deathbed, and have been busy painting the newly-refinished basement. Hoping to get the kids down there with all (and I mean all...) their stuff. Maybe someday I'll take ownership of at least the first floor of this beautiful big house o' mine.
Just so you know, too, I am up off my deathbed, and have been busy painting the newly-refinished basement. Hoping to get the kids down there with all (and I mean all...) their stuff. Maybe someday I'll take ownership of at least the first floor of this beautiful big house o' mine.
Saturday, January 31, 2009
I like to think of myself as a flexible mom.
Today I ran into my good friend, Mindy at the entrance to Kohl's. We each had our respective twelve-year-old-girls-in-search-of-Winter-Carnival-dresses (who happen to be the same size) so we changed our plans and shopped together. As I explained to Scott, one thing led to another, and four stores, five hours and easily 45 dresses (per girl) had passed. Yes, each girl settled on her it dress, and no, we did not go back to past stores to have them remove from hold all the previous "maybe" dresses.
Mindy and I enjoyed our own running commentary so much, though, we decided we should have our own reality television show. We were quite certain the whole world would appreciate following us around in our minivans, offering helpful hints and suggestions on such topics as Snacks on the Go, Quick Hair-dos for Sports, Funding Lunch with Minivan Change, Bleach, and Why You Shouldn't Buy Your White Wedding Dress at Deb if You are Already Four Months Pregnant (well, I can think of one particular person who might not fully appreciate that tip, though she certainly needed it).
Here are six things I learned today:
1) Twelve-year-old middle school girls do not love Polly Flinders. And they would hate Gunne Sax, if they even knew what it was.
2) If you are shopping in TJMaxx and run into my pastor's wife (and happen to be trying to justify a purchase), ask her opinion.
3) Mindy (the quintessential kindergarten teacher) only looks convincingly proper... she can deliver a line that'll leave you clutching your sides and gasping for air.
4) Deb in the Auburn Mall has dedicated half their store to Plus Size prom (or wedding) dresses. The other half seems to be for mini-chicks. Apparently average people just do not shop there.
5) It may quite possibly be true there is no dream of matching a shoe to Lilly's new canary yellow Winter Carnival dress.
6) Retail therapy works on killer colds!
And, since we went to town for paint in the first place, I feel compelled to mention we did find a lovely shade of beige called "Cozy Cottage." Of course, I was scheduled to spend my day painting the newly-walled basement after my quick trip to Home Depot, but I've simply run out of time. That's OK, I'm flexible... I think I'd better sit here and wait for our producers to call.
Friday, January 30, 2009
The hot question among savvy, engaged, involved parents this time of year seems to be this: Are your kids doing basketball? Now, I love basketball as much as the next Maine mom, but my kids are (at best) oblivious to the possibilities involving this beloved sport.
I've been pretty particular about what I sign the kids up for, especially during the winter months. With Scott gone all day every day, I always knew I didn't want to have to be the only one responsible for running them from one sport to the next in the snow. So, I've never signed them up for basketball. The term "maybe next year" comes to mind. Again.
That said, I should mention now that she's in middle school, Lilly is participating in three after-school activities. Cheering (sort of like basketball), Middle Connection ( a travel chorus), and a musical production practice take up every afternoon for her. Luckily, there's a late Activities Bus that brings her home Monday through Wednesday, so I don't have to run and fetch her everyday after school. I keep wanting the kids to get into skiing lessons, but I manage to miss the sign-ups every time (usually after doing the math of four kids times six or ten weeks of lessons... yikes!). Oh well, someday I'll get my act together, but for now, I'm enjoying not running around every day to this game or practice or whatever.
Kate participates in Girls Scouts one night a week. Of course, she's not in the same pack (or gaggle, or den... I don't really know what they call it) as Lilly, and neither of them is in the same club as Molly. Once in a while they'll all have some big obnoxious Girl Scout club mixer at the same time and same location. In that convenient situation, I'll try my best to drop, kiss and run... girl scouts are some of the highest-strung individuals I have ever met, and I like my blood pressure right where it is.
Sam "quit" Boy Scouts before the first meeting this year. I didn't blame him. To be polite, I'll call that group "possibly or potentially medicated."
Sophie attends the local preschool Book Club when her schedule permits. Her little group enjoys a reading of the weekly selection, followed by crafty time (with glue sticks!) and cocktails. OK, well, there aren't really any snacks, but one kid did have a sippy cup once, and you never know how desperate daycare providers are these days!
Anyway, my point is... we don't do basketball, and I've been trying to figure out why that has come out sounding like an apology all winter long! We don't do basketball. Someday we may. Or, we may end up with five cheerleaders. I truly enjoy watching these little people do whatever is fun for them. I believe I sufficiently support the local Irving and McDonald's in my running hither and yon. I'm quite satisfied with our winter thus far, and I believe my children are not unhappy.
And no, I don't want to watch your kid's basketball game.
I've been pretty particular about what I sign the kids up for, especially during the winter months. With Scott gone all day every day, I always knew I didn't want to have to be the only one responsible for running them from one sport to the next in the snow. So, I've never signed them up for basketball. The term "maybe next year" comes to mind. Again.
That said, I should mention now that she's in middle school, Lilly is participating in three after-school activities. Cheering (sort of like basketball), Middle Connection ( a travel chorus), and a musical production practice take up every afternoon for her. Luckily, there's a late Activities Bus that brings her home Monday through Wednesday, so I don't have to run and fetch her everyday after school. I keep wanting the kids to get into skiing lessons, but I manage to miss the sign-ups every time (usually after doing the math of four kids times six or ten weeks of lessons... yikes!). Oh well, someday I'll get my act together, but for now, I'm enjoying not running around every day to this game or practice or whatever.
Kate participates in Girls Scouts one night a week. Of course, she's not in the same pack (or gaggle, or den... I don't really know what they call it) as Lilly, and neither of them is in the same club as Molly. Once in a while they'll all have some big obnoxious Girl Scout club mixer at the same time and same location. In that convenient situation, I'll try my best to drop, kiss and run... girl scouts are some of the highest-strung individuals I have ever met, and I like my blood pressure right where it is.
Sam "quit" Boy Scouts before the first meeting this year. I didn't blame him. To be polite, I'll call that group "possibly or potentially medicated."
Sophie attends the local preschool Book Club when her schedule permits. Her little group enjoys a reading of the weekly selection, followed by crafty time (with glue sticks!) and cocktails. OK, well, there aren't really any snacks, but one kid did have a sippy cup once, and you never know how desperate daycare providers are these days!
Anyway, my point is... we don't do basketball, and I've been trying to figure out why that has come out sounding like an apology all winter long! We don't do basketball. Someday we may. Or, we may end up with five cheerleaders. I truly enjoy watching these little people do whatever is fun for them. I believe I sufficiently support the local Irving and McDonald's in my running hither and yon. I'm quite satisfied with our winter thus far, and I believe my children are not unhappy.
And no, I don't want to watch your kid's basketball game.
Wednesday, January 28, 2009
Tuesday, January 20, 2009
Easy New Year
Because it's what we do this time of year, I have started taking into account the way I live my life, and what possible (easy) steps I might take in an effort to improve the whole scene. Don't get me wrong, I love my life... many days I stay home and play with my youngest daughter, neither of us bothering to change out of our jammies until just before the rest of the family returns home from school and work. Inevitably, though, someone wants some sort of meal to sustain them, and that falls under my job description.
Since I'm not in the habit of preparing regular, consecutive meals for my family (discounting the popcorn lunches and mac-n-cheese dinner staple), I've decided to revise my approach in the kitchen. Let's face it, I can't really improve a nonexistent habit, so... first step, start making regular meals. Like, supper every night! That sounds pretty easy.
I happen to be a person that can't start with the first step. One idea brings me one step further from accomplishing my goal. In this instance, cooking supper every night means creating a menu. Which means getting an inventory of in-stock ingredients, and making a menu-specific shopping list. This is getting more complicated by the minute! I persevered, however, and came up with one week's worth of meals I knew my kids would eat and enjoy.
With list in-hand, I ticked off each item as it went into the cart, happily explaining to the ever-hopeful four year-old we couldn't get sugar cereal or grape soda or anything chocolate if it's not on the list! The whole family appreciated a hot meal that night, and every night for the whole week. Of course, no one wants to help with the dirty dishes or kitchen clean-up, but certainly this new plan has enhanced our lives.
Each night the kids take turns saying Grace before our meal. More than one of them has expressed gratitude for the opportunity to sit together as a whole family for supper. They all ask for a blessing on the meal "and the hands that prepared it". The tasty meal is made more delicious served with pleasant conversation and lots of laughter.
I'd like to tell you more about the meal plan, but I see the little girl on the couch is almost done with her popcorn, and appears to be licking the bag. It's probably time to get out of our jammies, anyway... and start thinking about adding real lunches to our routine.
Since I'm not in the habit of preparing regular, consecutive meals for my family (discounting the popcorn lunches and mac-n-cheese dinner staple), I've decided to revise my approach in the kitchen. Let's face it, I can't really improve a nonexistent habit, so... first step, start making regular meals. Like, supper every night! That sounds pretty easy.
I happen to be a person that can't start with the first step. One idea brings me one step further from accomplishing my goal. In this instance, cooking supper every night means creating a menu. Which means getting an inventory of in-stock ingredients, and making a menu-specific shopping list. This is getting more complicated by the minute! I persevered, however, and came up with one week's worth of meals I knew my kids would eat and enjoy.
With list in-hand, I ticked off each item as it went into the cart, happily explaining to the ever-hopeful four year-old we couldn't get sugar cereal or grape soda or anything chocolate if it's not on the list! The whole family appreciated a hot meal that night, and every night for the whole week. Of course, no one wants to help with the dirty dishes or kitchen clean-up, but certainly this new plan has enhanced our lives.
Each night the kids take turns saying Grace before our meal. More than one of them has expressed gratitude for the opportunity to sit together as a whole family for supper. They all ask for a blessing on the meal "and the hands that prepared it". The tasty meal is made more delicious served with pleasant conversation and lots of laughter.
I'd like to tell you more about the meal plan, but I see the little girl on the couch is almost done with her popcorn, and appears to be licking the bag. It's probably time to get out of our jammies, anyway... and start thinking about adding real lunches to our routine.
Friday, January 9, 2009
Everyday Life in a Nutshell
In the interest of clearing the first (and seemingly most difficult) hurdle of actually setting this up and getting something typed in, here is my first blog entry. This should be a good place for you to visit me and get a glimpse into my everyday life in Rural, Maine.
If you know me at all, you know I've got a house full of five kids, one dog, lots of laundry (mostly clean, though still somehow mostly on the floor), a cramped and messy kitchen, lots of laughter and tons of fun. Don't be fooled... if you know me at all, you know there's a fair share of fussing, fighting, whining, complaining and yelling (and then you should hear the kids!). But we end each day with hugs, and kisses, and "I love you"s, and Super-Duper Tuck-Ins... some nights we sing, and some nights we read, and some nights we cry ourselves to sleep.
This is the story of Mi, and how aware I am that I am SOOOO HUMAN! Blissfully human, painfully human, ordinarily human, sometimes super human, exhaustingly human... amazingly, wonderfully, fearfully-made human. This is the journey of one human, endeavoring to live this life, to learn, to grow, to carry on, to fall to my knees, and always to look up, anticipating the eternal consequences of my here and now.
A word of warning: I intend to lay out the good, the bad and the ugly of my everyday. You'll laugh, you'll cry... you'll probably learn more about me than you've ever wanted to know. And I intend to do the same.
If you know me at all, you know I've got a house full of five kids, one dog, lots of laundry (mostly clean, though still somehow mostly on the floor), a cramped and messy kitchen, lots of laughter and tons of fun. Don't be fooled... if you know me at all, you know there's a fair share of fussing, fighting, whining, complaining and yelling (and then you should hear the kids!). But we end each day with hugs, and kisses, and "I love you"s, and Super-Duper Tuck-Ins... some nights we sing, and some nights we read, and some nights we cry ourselves to sleep.
This is the story of Mi, and how aware I am that I am SOOOO HUMAN! Blissfully human, painfully human, ordinarily human, sometimes super human, exhaustingly human... amazingly, wonderfully, fearfully-made human. This is the journey of one human, endeavoring to live this life, to learn, to grow, to carry on, to fall to my knees, and always to look up, anticipating the eternal consequences of my here and now.
A word of warning: I intend to lay out the good, the bad and the ugly of my everyday. You'll laugh, you'll cry... you'll probably learn more about me than you've ever wanted to know. And I intend to do the same.
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