Pictures

I found the camera right were I thought it ought to be.  I just didn't see it at first glance.

Garden gnome with homemade sign

Full length shot.  He wore this costume
late on Friday, so he didn't change
before coming home.  "Just don't ask
me to stop at the store," he said.

Yard decoration.  That's one HUGE gnome.

World's cutest witch.

When it was time to go, she refused
to wear the hat, and decided yellow
rain boots were a better accent.

Note the "true to life" sweaty hair.
That jacket is a lined raincoat. 
It was NOT made with Georgia
Halloweening in mind (temps in the 80s).

Jenny dressed as a witch for the piano
recital, but switched to Rapunzel later on.

I made this dress for Katie two years ago.
We didn't mind splurging on the wig ($8).
We were going to make her a really long
wig out of yarn, but she didn't like yarn.
So, she got a short wig instead.  Pfft.

I did the whiskers for the piano recital.

Bill did the whiskers for Trick or Treating.

I think the musketeer costume turned
out very nicely.

I had to purchase the blue fabric, but
the silvery ribbon adorned a present I
received years ago.  I've used it for
many costumes.

I basted white, lacy ribbon to the collar of
an ordinary dress shirt.  No permanant
damage done.  Bill made that ostrich 
feather out of paper and a drinking straw.
The hat is a black foam top hat to which
Bill hot glued a brim made from black foam. 

Halloween 2010

No pictures

My home is a testament to last-minute Halloween scrambling.  Sewing machine, fabric, lacy ribbons, white fluff, black foam, scissors, and other debris are covering the dining room table.  The kitchen table is piled high with things we haven't put away because we were working on costumes.  Other areas of the house show vague neglect, and various costume pieces and accessories drape chairs and fill corners where they were thrown after our late night return from our neighbor's party.

I would love to post photos, but I can't find my camera.  The last time I remember having it was when I took pictures.  I do not recall what I did with it after that.  Hm.

The costume that made me giggle the most was Fritz's.  The kids dressed up for a recital at a "retirement community" and one of his pieces was entitled something-or-other gnomes.  So he wanted to be a garden gnome.  It was a simple costume made from things I already had (besides his own clothing, I needed some red felt and some white fluff for a beard - everybody has white fluff in their craft supply box, right?).  I made Bill his own beard when he said he would dress up at his office, because the one for Fritz was too narrow for Bill's face.  But they could use the same hat, thank goodness, because I had only a little bit of red felt (Bill: wide jaw, skinny head; Fritz: narrow jaw, fat head?).

Fritz was left behind to hand out candy while we took the other kids around last night.  The weather was mild, so he sat out, in costume.  Many of the little kids in the neighborhood were scared of him, because he looked like Santa Claus.  Jolly old elves are terrifying to 3 year olds.

Billy was a musketeer, and looked fabulous.  Since, I don't have a picture, I'll offer a thousand words to describe him...(yeah, no).

Katie was a cat. 

Jenny was Rapunzel.  We even bought her a wig (we spoil our children).

Peter was a fireman, because he is a 5 year old boy.

Mary was a witch - heh heh heh.  Really.  If you asked her what she was going to be, she would say, "A witch! Heh heh heh!"  I don't know where she learned evil laughter, but it was disturbingly funny to listen to it.

I went as Cinderella, before the ball, which means I went as is.

Bill was an off-duty soldier.

Hopefully, I'll find the camera after the sun rises.

Breaking the Piggy Bank

4-Year-Old Can Be Sued, Judge Rules in Bike Case

Note that the elderly victim of the reckless 4 year old died 3 months later of unrelated causes.  It is her estate that is suing the little girl, now 6 or 7, who probably doesn't even remember the incident.  Perhaps the girl's lawyer will settle out of court.  I'd offer 5 years of net income as stated on her W2.

Grief, O Unhappy Friend

Having heard once, by a healthcare provider, of my need for "closure," and having that sentiment sit with distaste in my mouth, it is lovely to see the reason for my discomfiture so eloquently explained:

We have no reason for "closure" of the past; certainly not for closure of Donna's place in our lives. The magnitude of our heartache reflects the magnitude of our love. The world would indeed be bleak if human beings could not care so much.

Gee, I think we just ran out of rum...

My 3 year old: I have juice, Mommy?

Me: You'd like some juice?  Sure, honey.

Visiting 3 year old: I'm thirsty, too.

Me: You'd like a drink too?  Sure!  What would you like?

Visiting 3 year old: I'd like a pina colada.

My friends raise their kids right.

Costuming

I think this is the first year I'm finding the end-of-October festivities to be more fun than overwhelming.

First of all, my husband is home.  Even though he really hasn't done much, other than add some creative suggestions, it just makes everything better.

Secondly, neither the church nor the homeschool group has had a volunteer step forward to organize an All Saint's Day party, so I have only one costume to worry about.  Yes, I know some people restrict their children to just the saint costume, and more power to you.  My kids and my husband enjoy more traditional Halloween costumes.  And this is the one time of year that I consent to add to the dress up bin.  So I'm happy there's no saint party...call me evil; I'll call me less stressed.

Thirdly, my youngest is 3.  That makes a huge difference.

And then, this year, I have found my older children have finally reached an age where they are very useful in envisioning and creating their own costumes and very helpful in assisting with younger siblings' costumes and very cooperative in accepting homemade alternatives to store-bought perfection.  Katie wants to be a cat.  Older brothers offer and produce black baseball pants, black socks and a black turtleneck shirt.  She finds me ingenious when I use pink nail polish to paint black foam ears with a triangle for the inner ear.  Years ago, she would have insisted (did insist) on a store-bought costume.

And, as influential as I am with my kids, nothing beats having an older brother to convince a 5 year old that his navy blue church pants are perfect to go with the borrowed, yellow firefighter coat.  He had wanted red pants, and I had dreaded informing him that we don't happen to own red pants.  Problem solved by my 12 year old.

Fritz sprang a costume idea on me yesterday afternoon, which I would not normally permit.  But it is so funny and so easy that I jumped right in.  When Bill came home, he saw our work, said that his office was having dress up on Friday and he thought he'd steal Fritz's for the day.  It has me giggling, since I'm sure most people in his office think he's the most humorless man to walk the planet.  I will be sure to post pictures tomorrow, but won't spoil the surprise today.

We're definitely having fun here, and that's a really nice change.

Today is St. Crispin's Day

I impart no significance to the Feast of St. Crispin except that Fritz is memorizing Shakespeare's St. Crispin's Day speech which really is a fabulous oratory.  Makes you want to pick up your sword and charge into a bunch of Frenchmen...(ok, not really).  But inspiring nonetheless. 

This day is call'd the feast of Crispian.

He that outlives this day, and comes safe home,
Will stand a tip-toe when this day is nam'd,
And rouse him at the name of Crispian.
He that shall live this day, and see old age,
Will yearly on the vigil feast his neighbours,
And say 'To-morrow is Saint Crispian.'
Then will he strip his sleeve and show his scars,
And say 'These wounds I had on Crispian's day.'

Most people are familiar with the line "We few, we happy few, we band of brothers..." but my favorite bit is the ending.

And gentlemen in England now-a-bed
Shall think themselves accurs'd they were not here,
And hold their manhoods cheap whiles any speaks
That fought with us upon Saint Crispin's day.


And I wonder if men today hold their manhoods cheap while in the presence of our combat veterans.  But then I think that too many don't even know what honor and glory are all about.

Right now

I cannot understand why anybody would ever, by choice, run ten miles.

And getting up at 530 am to travel through crowded metro stations for the privilege is even crazier.

Not to mention the crowded metro ride back with thousands of smelly runners.

But driving ten hours each direction to get to the friend's house where you will be staying seems even more ludicrous.

But that's right now. Tomorrow, after rest has dissipated the aches, I might start planning for next year.

Keeping me laughing

"Peter," said I to my son, "remember this picture?"  He glanced up from something he was coloring and nodded.  "Do you remember what is on the chair?"

The picture by Van Gogh is called The Chair and the Pipe because it shows a chair with a pipe on the seat.  Peter, though, never seems able to disassociate the artist from the picture and whenever he sees a Van Gogh (any Van Gogh), thinks only of the details he has learned about his short, tragic life.  So what does Peter automatically reply in response to my question?

"An ear."

Girls' Weekend

This afternoon, I am running away from home.  Well, actually, on Sunday, I am running...away from home...participating in the Army Ten Miler in Washington, D.C., which is quite a way from home.  But this afternoon, I am leaving to get there.

Like a good wife and mother, I am trying to ensure a stress-free weekend for my husband.  I have made sure that there is plenty of milk, bread, eggs, bacon, frozen pizza and ketchup.  I am quite confident that he knows how to find the McDonald's across the street if necessary.  This morning, I will make sure that my girls have all of the required components of their dance clothes ready to go and that their hair is brushed and pulled back.  I will make sure that my boys have game uniforms and equipment assembled (no hunting for shin guards at the 11th hour on Saturday).  If they can't remember their water bottles, that's too bad.  I will also make sure that everybody knows what they are wearing to Mass, so that my husband does not have to listen to the female histrionic wailing of "I have nothing to wear."

I'm hoping to get caught up on laundry, but I really doubt I'll get the house cleaned (that's my usual Friday afternoon activity).  I'll assign chores to the children, but it will be up to Bill to see that they are completed.  If they aren't, oh well.

I do hope to finish this week's schoolwork this morning.  The children are motivated for two reasons: this week is the end of the 1st quarter, and Monday is the Feast of St. Crispin.  I have promised them dinner out on Monday (we have gift cards to the Olive Garden) to celebrate IF they have done all their work.  What's the big deal about St. Crispin?  Fritz had to memorize the St. Crispin speech from Henry V.  Any excuse to party will do.

I suppose I ought to pack at some point, too.  I bought grapes and candy corn to sustain me on the car ride.  Today I head to North Carolina to friend Rachel's house.  Saturday, Rachel and I will go to friend Christie's house.  Sunday, we shall run together (we band of sisters). 

Some women might choose a spa weekend or a shopping trip to an outlet center.  My girlfriends and I, we go for a ten mile run.

More on a Traditional Christmas

Yesterday I participated in a podcast with Chris Cash of the The Catholic Company and Catholic Spotlight.  Our topic was oplatky, which are the special Christmas wafers traditionally used on Christmas Eve by Eastern European families.  As soon as that podcast is posted, I'll provide the link.

**Updated: the link is here.

One of the things we discussed was the traditional dinner known as Wigilia in Polish.  The Slovak tradition is similar, and I promised Chris I'd check out my copy of The Anniversary Slovak-American Cook Book and do a post about the dishes listed there.  The Traditional Christmas Eve Supper Menu is listed on page 8 and includes this explanation:

The traditional Christmas Eve Supper is prepared with home grown crops.  The menu, therefore, varies in different parts of Slovakia.  Varieties of soups are served.  For example, some people serve mushroom soup, others serve sauerkraut soup with mushrooms...

Although I have a Slovak heritage, I and my family are definitely American and our taste buds, especially those of the children, don't necessarily agree that sauerkraut or stewed prunes make for good eats.  Having a "traditional" dinner isn't much fun if nobody wants to eat it.  So, although I post this menu for those who may be interested, I do not claim to prepare all these dishes or heartily enjoy them.  If I were truly a traditionalist, my dinner would be made with home-grown crops which, this year, were primarily tomatoes, basil and peppers, none of which are included in this list. 

Traditional Slovak Christmas Eve Supper

Oplatky (Christmas Wafers)
Honey (my mom says they always dipped the oplatky in the honey)
Wine
Mushroom Soup
Pagash (this is a filled dough - similar to stromboli, but filled with sauerkraut not tomato sauce and cheese)
Bobalky (this is a bread that you pour boiling water over and then coat with honey and poppy seed...sounds, um, different)
Fish (no specific recipe given)
Beans
Peas
Sauerkraut
Mixed Dried Fruits or Stewed Prunes
Assorted Fresh Fruits
Mixed Nuts
Nut and Poppy seed Rolls
Rozky (see below)
Coffee

Rozky was a section heading in the cook book and based on the picture and a quick read of the recipes must translate into "cookie".  Most of the recipes seem to be a filled cookie (nut filling or poppy seed or cheese or jam), and many seem to be shaped into crescents or horns.  Since I'm a huge fan of cookies, I thought I'd share one of the Rozky recipes.  Some of the recipes have various names, but at least 6 are labeled simply "rozky."  This is one of those.  I say this so purists won't write and tell me that their great-grandmother's rozky recipe is nothing like my rozky recipe.  For the record, I make Russian Tea Cakes with pecans, but many people say walnuts are the correct nut to use.  Everybody has her own preference.

Rozky

1 1/2 pounds flour
1 pound butter
1 Tbl sugar
1 Tbl baking powder
1 tsp salt
1 can evaporated milk
5 egg yolks
filling
milk

Mix first 7 ingredients until well blended and dough does not stick to hands.  Refrigerate for 1 hour or longer.  Roll out on floured surface and cut into 3" squares.  Fill with poppy seed, prune butter or any desired filling.  Roll and turn into crescents.  Brush top with milk.  Bake at 350 degrees for 30 minutes.

Inspiring Creativity

My kids all love to draw, as long as the subject matter is their choice.  Drawing is a significant part of my school curriculum, especially in the younger years, and my children always resist the drawing assignments.  It's not so much fun to draw what somebody else wants you to draw.  (Can't say I blame them.  I enjoy writing, but assign me a topic, and I will procrastinate and complain as though it is near torture.) 

Usually, the children opt to copy a picture, because it helps to have someone else's vision for what to do.  That's if they like the picture.  But if they don't feel comfortable drawing sheep, for example, and the Bible picture or Aesop's fable or poem illustration shows sheep, my little students will dig in their heels and insist that the assignment is too hard.  Fortunately, by 2nd grade, they get over this, generally because they now have 2 more years of experience in drawing.

Also, fortunately, if you are the 5th student and your mother has kept all the drawings (done in bound blank books) that your older siblings have done, you have a wide variety of illustrations to peruse until your muse inspires you.  At the very least, it helps to know that they too had to do the same work and they managed, somehow. 

I knew there was a reason I kept that shelf full of drawings.

Sesame Street: Smell Like A Monster

Oktoberfest 2010

If your 3 year old does not take a nap two days in a row, she will pass out on the way home from her brother's baseball game at 4:30 in the afternoon.  And she will not wake up for dinner.  Or dessert.  Or bedtime prayers.  Or even when she is transferred to her bed at 9:30 that night.

She will, though, be wide awake and very hungry at 3 am.  Which will give her bleary-eyed mother plenty of time to empty pictures off her camera and type Oktoberfest recipes into the computer.  I'm not sure the coffee will get me through the day.

We had gorgeous weather on Saturday, so most people stayed outside on our big deck.  I probably didn't need to bother to clean the house.  About 64 people came, which is among our smallest.  We were competing with several locals festivals, but it couldn't be helped due to Bill's last class for his Master's (he's done! he's done!...well, except for the comprehensive final...but, he's done!).

I generally make the same food every year.  Yes, I did blog about liking variety, but this is my once-a-year party and I never make these dishes any other time.  And having the same menu means that, by now (our 7th Oktoberfest), executing the party requires little to no thought, which means little to no stress. 

My Oktoberfest Menu:

Bratwurst (boiled first, then grilled)
Frankfurters (I boiled them in the crockpot, because many kids don't like grilled hotdogs)
Sauerbraten (pot roast marinated in vinegar)
Rolls (buns)

Sauerkraut (from a jar)
German Red Cabbage
German Potato Salad

Pumpkin Pie Cake
Creamy Apple Kuchen
Walnut Cake
Pretzels (Snyder's)

The Pumpkin Pie Cake was new this year (yum!) and although I usually make Apfelkuchen, the creamy version here was a different recipe (also, yum).

Getting dressed up is half the fun .

October in Georgia is still barefoot weather.

My girlfriend brought Cucumber Salad (a recipe similar to this one).  She also made Peter and her boys cute little Alpine hats and edelweiss flowers for the girls' hair (see photos).  I believe she got the directions from the latest issue of Faith and Family magazine, and she said they were very, very easy.

If you were going to throw a party for 50 people (3:2 adult to kid ratio), I suggest one Sauerbraten and quadruple the potato salad (the recipe is for 3 potatoes, so 4x is about 4 pounds).  If you had 100 people, double those, but do not double the red cabbage or you'll have tons of leftovers.  I usually do one brat per person and have leftovers which is totally fine by me.  Hotdogs, I do one per kid plus another package.  When my girls are older, I hope to make the rolls from scratch.  For now, I buy hotdog buns.

Of course, you have to have good mustard.  This is my favorite, but I can't get it locally (the commissary at Fort Belvoir had it in the deli section, but they don't have it here).  Instead, I had some of this and some of that. 

And that's my Oktoberfest party.  My original thought (way back when) was to get other families in my circle of friends to select a theme and host a yearly party.  If 4 of us spread them out, we could have a quarterly bash.  Woulda been, coulda been great.  And then we moved.  That first Oktoberfest (dear New Jersey friends) remains the best Oktoberfest we ever had.  We miss you guys.

On Camera

Why, yes, I would like a sippy cup while I
pay bills and listen to Baroque classical music.

Aw, she found my hiding spot.



I've found the problem with your sink.



It's seriously clogged.

Because the linen closet is a great backdrop
for a picture.

10 days later

Did I mention that Mary had a birthday?



The pink icing can't hide the fact
that this girl is a cutie pie.

Happy Oktoberfest

8 AM

I have baked one cake and a second is in the oven.  The first of two sauerbraten roasts is simmering on the stovetop.  74 bratwurst are boiled and ready to be grilled to perfection tomorrow evening.  One more cake, three batches of potato salad and a very messy red cabbage dish left to prepare.  Maybe cookies.

And cleaning and decorating. 

And errands.  Need propane.  Need CO2 (right? everybody needs some CO2 for an Oktoberfest).  I ran out of cinnamon, so I've been using apple pie spice instead.  Need cinnamon.  Need whipped topping.

Somebody needs to do a Latin test.  Two somebodies need to finish up some history work (one essay needs to be typed and one short answer questions need to be revised).

Somebody else needs coffee and a shower.

Have a great weekend.  I hope to get some recipes up by Monday.  Want to taste the Pumpkin Pie Cake first to see how it is.  It smells delightful.

A Christmas Tradition

When I was a young child and lived in Ohio, I remember our Christmas celebrations including oplatki, the thin, communion wafer-like "Christmas bread" that is a tradition among Eastern European Catholics.  My mother is Slovak and ethnic churches are plentiful in Ohio.

When I was an older child, we moved to Richmond, Virginia.  The Catholic population was not as dense there, and the ethnic groups were not very diverse.  Oplatki was not available locally, so the only times we had it were years we happened to be in Ohio for Thanksgiving or some other occasion in the late fall.

Of course, now we have the internet, and online stores like the Catholic Company will happily ship oplatki right to your doorstep. 

I introduced the use of oplatki with my own family several years ago when I found it available online.  The oplatki is shared on Christmas Eve.  The children watch the sky for the "First Star" - the sign that the Christ Child is here.  In my family, we then process with the infant Jesus statue and place him in our creche.  We bless the creche, then we bless the Christmas tree and officially light it.  Then we sit and eat because our food has been growing cool while we attended to ceremonies.  At some point, I will remember and say, "Oh!  The oplatki!" and I will scurry around trying to discover the "safe spot" where I put the envelope.  Usually, I find it.

The oplatki wafers are handed out.  My husband makes some sort of formal speech wishing everyone a happy Christmas and a blessed upcoming year.  And then there is mild chaos as we all break off pieces to exchange with each other as we give out kisses, hugs and cheery greetings.  I thoroughly enjoy our Christmas Eve festivities which are all about love and not at all about stuff.

It may seem early to be talking about Christmas, but oplatki is available for order now.  If you would like to try this tradition (or revive it), then plan ahead.  Be sure to put your wafers in a "safe spot" you can remember.

By Crook is Much Easier than by Hook

Military ballots may not count in Illinois

New Mexico, New York, Illinois...funny how it's never states like Texas, Idaho or Alaska.  It's that red vs. blue thing.  No doubt in my mind: if the military was known for being staunch Democrats, Nancy Pelosi would be getting on the first flight to Afghanistan to personally hand out absentee ballots.

As it is, ho hum, the military is disenfranchised, again.  No big deal.

Science for the youngest of many

First-born preschooler:  Mama, where did the sun go?


Mama: Actually, the sun didn't go anywhere.  The earth, our planet, is rotating on its axis.  Every day it does one full revolution.  When it faces the sun, it is daylight.  When it faces away, it is night.  See, here is a grape.  Let's pretend it's the Earth.  We're here.  Now let's pretend the lamp is the sun.  Watch how one side faces the sun and the other side is away from the sun...


*******


Second-born preschooler: Mommy, where did the sun go?


Mommy: Actually, the sun didn't go anywhere.  The earth, our planet, is spinning.  During the day, we face the sun and during the night, we don't.  Here, let's spin this ball.  You see how sometimes this side has the light shining right on it....


*******


Third-born preschooler: Mom, where did the sun go? 


Mom: Actually, our planet is spinning like a top. Sometimes we face the sun and sometimes we don't. So it looks like the sun has gone away, but it's really that we have spun away from it...




*******
 
Fourth-born preschooler: Mom, where did the sun go?
 
Mom: To sleep.  Like you need to.
 
*******
 
Fifth-born preschooler: Ma, where did the sun go?
 
Ma: It went to the other side of the world so that they can have sunlight and we can get a good night's sleep.
 
*******
 
Sixth-born preschooler: Mommy, where did the sun go?
 
Mommy: To China.
 
SBP: China?
 
Mommy: Yup.
 
SBP: Why to China?
 
Mommy: It's their turn.  We're sharing.
 
SBP: Why we sharing?
 
Mommy: Well, it wouldn't be nice if we kept the sun all the time, right?  Now they get a chance to have some sunlight and we get a chance to go to bed.
 
(next morning)
 
SBP: Mommy, where's the sun?
 
Mommy: Still in China.  It'll be here soon.
 
SBP: Oh.  OK.
 
...to be continued, every day and night, for the next 3 or 4 months...

I think I'll get that To-Go, please

Terror threat to restaurants as Al Qaeda calls for attacks on government workers in D.C.



The terror group tied to the Ft. Hood killings and the Christmas Day undies airbomber urge wannabe American jihadis to open fire on crowded restaurants in the nation's capital to massacre U.S. government workers.

{snip}



"A random hit at a crowded restaurant in Washington, D.C., at lunch hour might end up knocking out a few government employees," Yahya Ibrahim writes in the 74-page jihadi how-to magazine.


Jihad how-to.  Hmm.  Never heard of a Catholic how-to kill your neighbors publication.

I'm sure, though, that this religion is simply misunderstood.  A few bad apples, that's all.  It's really a peaceful religion.  Flowers, hearts, doves...not scimitars and women covered head to toe with burlap. 

So glad we don't live in DC right now.  So concerned over friends and former coworkers we have in the area.

Oh, and it just hit me...I'll be in DC in 2 weeks to run a race.  The ARMY Ten Miler.   Yeah.  Such a warm fuzzy feeling I've got right now.

Just lovely.

The only thing keeping me from panicking is my annoyance

63 invitations to my Oktoberfest were sent.  It asked for a response by today.  I have had 20 responses.

Pathetic.

Am I cooking for 50 people or 100 or 150?  I have no idea.  I could cook for the 50 people I know are coming.  And I could run out of food as soon as the brats come off the grill.  I could cook for 150 and have sauerbraten in my freezer until April. 

What's the deal?  Did 43 people forget to respond?  Are 43 people waiting to see if something better than free food and beer comes up in their social calendar?  Are 43 people that rude or ignorant or apathetic? 

Personally, I don't care if someone chooses not to come.  I don't care if someone feels that hanging out watching HGTV all day long is a better deal than my little fest.  I completely understand if someone just wants a break and doesn't want to have one more social obligation crowding their weekend.  Been there.  That's cool.

So tell me.  Email me and say, no thank you.  I don't need to hear your excuse.  I just want to know if I should make food for you or not.

And if you show up here without letting me know, I will notice.  And I will remember.

One reason I love my Dad

At Billy's soccer game last night, Peter and Mary occupied themselves with coloring.  Peter dictated the theme: dinosaurs, which is not Mary's typical subject matter (being a girly girl she generally draws princesses in pink with lots of frills...maybe ponies with braided manes and flowers...).  As usual for her, Mary talked her way through the endeavor and the majority of her prattle was directed at Grandpa who was sitting next to her.  My father watched the soccer game, but managed to nod and smile and say the occasional "Oh!  How nice!" or answer her questions regarding whether or not dinosaurs had horns or teeth or arms. 

At one point Mary asked if dinosaurs had tails.  Dad misheard her and with enthusiasm and a perfectly straight face replied:

"Yes, dinosaurs wear heels."

And match them with their dino purses.

A specific prayer request

I received this email...friend of a friend...and I think it's such a fabulous way to support the troops.

Blessed friends,



Some I have had the opportunity of talking with directly, others are hearing this for the first time: I have been deployed to Afghanistan in an emergency status to fill in for a chaplain that was killed here recently. I will be here for ten months, in a region that is highly dangerous and hazardous in many ways to my Soldiers and the local populace. We are here to make life better for the locals, and we have our work cut out for us.


My men and I are greatly in need of your prayers: prayers for protection, for perseverance, and for hope and courage in the face of the challenges we face. I am asking that each of you commit to some time of prayer, either daily or weekly, with some specific prayer or scripture verse you will pray and reflect on, in our behalf. If you so accept, I ask that you send those verses/prayers so that we can know them and join in as well. If your prayer or verse changes, please update that with an email--even if it is a different one every week/day. My goal, vision and hope through this project is not just to surround my men with a prayer hedge of protection, but to get all of us praying more and taking time to acknowledge the presence and purpose of God in our lives.


Thank you in advance for your support!
 
This is from Fr. Kevin Peek.  I'm not going to post his email or snail mail addresses here, but I'll email anyone who requests it.  Or you can post your scripture verses here, and I'll be sure to forward them.  He has limited internet access, so I don't want him flooded with spam.  If any of you belong to a prayer group that wants to spiritually adopt him and his troops, I suggest one email from the group to help minimize the volume in his inbox.

I'm lovin' it

Current temperature in coastal Georgia is 50 degrees.  And it feels so good.

Math Concepts

Consistently, every single one of my 1st and 2nd grade students has had difficulty with addition problems where one addend is missing.  4 + ? = 10.  ? + 3 = 7.  They just could not "get" that the answer was given to them. 

I would pull out blocks.  "The answer is 10," and I would show ten blocks.  I would separate the blocks into two piles.  "You have 4 blocks.  How many more blocks do you add to get ten?"   I would point to the other pile.  The student would count the blocks and write down the correct answer.  Then I would try the next problem.  "The answer is 7," and I would show a pile of 7 blocks.  This time I would not divide the blocks into the correct piles.  "You have 3 blocks.  How many more do you need to make 7?" 

Blank stare.

I tried examples and other manipulatives.  "There are 10 superheroes.  4 have eaten lunch.  How many more need to eat lunch?"

"There are 7 little ponies.  3 are in the stable.  How many more need to get in the stable for bedtime?"

More blank stares.  And lots of frustration on both sides.

Jenny has reached this stage in her math.  Most lessons include this sort of problem.  We've been having some tense moments.  Fortunately, I remembered today the one example that has worked flawlessly with every single child thus far.

"It is Billy's 10th birthday.  I am putting the candles on his cake.  I put 4 candles on but then I have to go clean up a mess that Mary made.  How many candles do I have left to put on the cake?"  I used colored pencils and demonstrated the problem.  I could see the light bulb going off right away.  As I walked away, I could hear her saying, "It's my 7th birthday.  I put 3 candles on the cake.  How many candles are left to put on the cake?"  When I returned a few minutes later, the problems were finished.  Each one was correct.

No more blank stares.  Hooray!

Some day he'll appreciate his sisters, but for now...

Peter: How many kids can there be?

Me: You mean, how many kids can be in one family?

Peter: Yes.

Me: Every family is different.  Some families have twenty children!

Peter: Wow!  They would need a really big house!

Me: Would you like twenty more brothers and sisters?

Peter: No.

Me: Oh.

Peter: Twenty more brothers...

A Devil of a Time

Fear of Football Fans Prompts Massachusetts Town to Reschedule Halloween

I'm surprised this is such a big deal.  Does anybody actually "do" Halloween on Halloween anymore?  I've been waiting for about a week now to catch a neighbor outside and ask when they trick or treat in the area.  Sure enough, Sunday night is a no-go (I think mainly because it's a school night, not out of respect for the Lord).  She assumes it will be on Saturday, but final decisions are forthcoming (town-wide).  Personally, I think it's silly to move the event, but having moved around enough, I have come to expect that each area does it differently.

The nice next-door neighbor with the inside scoop on local customs was also apologetic about her yard decorations and warned that she wasn't done yet.  She dubbed herself the 'Ween Queen and invited us to her party, which would include a viewing of the Georgia - Florida game.  I'm guessing that's a big deal?  Who needs the Superbowl?  (When in Rome...)

While we talked, I realized that her hand-wringing, in part, was concern over our feelings.  Everywhere we have lived since we moved from our little community in New Jersey, the new neighbors have suspected that perhaps we were one of those families that didn't participate in Halloween.  Have a bunch of kids, go to church every Sunday, and people assume you think putting on masks and demanding candy from your neighbors is evil. 

I once went to an adult-only dinner party when I was pregnant with Mary.  Very pregnant, like due any day.  As I requested something benign like water to drink, another guest was questioning my selection and trying to find out what I might have ordered had I not been ominously with child.  I felt the need to assure him that I did not have a moral problem with alcohol, lest he think I was one of those crazy people. 

The Halloween question that comes up in every new town is much the same.  And actually, I appreciate that neighbors try to be sensitive to the customs of others.  I imagine it must be difficult to raise children next door to your local 'Ween Queen if you felt that Halloween was wrong.  I imagine it must be difficult to be friendly and personable when you attend a party where alcohol is served if you think drinking is immoral (or I suppose you don't go and are labeled "stand-offish"). 

Fortunately for our neighbors, now and in the future, I am married to a 'Ween King wanna-be.  Bill loves Halloween, so the question of "To Treat or Not To Treat" was never up for discussion.  But of course we celebrate Halloween.  And we drink.  And dance, too.  Following that wide, well-worn path...

I think once I conceived my 4th child, I crossed the line from mainstream to "other."  And it wasn't that I was mainstream before, it just became obvious to the world that I wasn't like everybody else.  So I have spent more than 7 years as a flashing neon sign for Christ.  Whether I like it or not, people notice me, count little heads and make assumptions.  They watch me interact with my children and with people around me.  Am I smiling and joyful?  Am I impatient?  Are my children polite?  What's in my grocery cart: fresh fruits and veggies or Lucky Charms?  Does my shirt have today's lunch on the sleeve?  Are my children in torn or stained clothing?  Do we wave at the neighbors when we walk around the block?  Are there weeds in the flower beds? 

Little things that mean nothing for most people are for us taken as signs of something greater.  We are proven every day to be either devout lovers of Christ or hypocrites.  And we can be that witness in a pleasant manner or in an offensive manner.  We can inspire people to be like us, or we can make them so uncomfortable that they want nothing to do with us.

Last year we went trick or treating in my friend's neighborhood at a military installation.  Generally, the chaplains' offices on posts will throw a Fall Festival type alternative to Halloween festivities.  Homes that are not handing out candy leave the lights off, and most kids know to not ring those bells.  There were several homes with the lights on, but nobody home.  There was simply a note posted saying, basically, that Halloween was the work of the Devil and that we should go home and put on sackcloth and ashes and repent.  Um...

I'm not saying there is a right way or a wrong way to celebrate Halloween.  But I do think there are right ways and wrong ways to evangelize...and this way falls in the latter category. 

For us, trick or treating (and drinking and dancing) is a harmless way to be in the world.  Not every action has moral weight.  Serving your children Lucky Charms is not sinful.  The cleanliness of your shirt is not a refelction of the cleanliness of your soul.  Dressing up as Snow White or a Power Ranger or even a witch or ghost and blackmailing your willing neighbors for candy is not worshipping the Devil.  Really.

Riding roller coasters.  Eating cotton candy.  Riding in a car with the windows down and the music blaring.  Trick or treating.  Some things are just simply fun.

Only 372 days until she turns 4

It's all coming back to me now: how annoying I find 3 year olds.  It has been a few years since I've had one of those, and I had forgotten.  I will take a 2 year old over a 3 year old any day.

I feel as though we've gone back 2 years to that new-toddler stage: unrolled paper towels, unrolled toilet paper, water everywhere, laundry scattered, food as toys and/or "art," only we've added a new element of independence and defiance.  Can't tell her what to do, no ma'am.

And she's decided that if she loudly screams, people will want to pacify her and give her what she wants. 

She's starting to learn that being diaperless means less padding for the swats to the backside that mom is now doling out on a regular basis.  I rarely spank a 1 year old (safety issues mainly).  But it seems so necessary to the 3 year old who knows better, but is just checking to see if you're serious.

Girl, I am serious.

The only thing that keeps them alive at this age, I'm convinced, is their love of imitation and their improved communication skills.  It's hard to stay angry at a child who lisps out, "I sorry Momma," and then begins to sing "Clean up, clean up," as she attempts to right her wrong.  And when you look up from your dinner plate and see little hands that, only moments before, had been folded reverently in prayer now thickly covered with mashed potatoes, can you help but be a little impressed when she points out the roast beef and carrots and thick onion slices arranged in the form of a face and says, "It's for my Gwam-ma!" 

And of course, there are the frequent moments when she gazes adoringly up into your eyes, smiles broadly, and says, "I wuv you!"

Sigh.

I wuv you, too, little girl.  But STOP making messes.