A Brilliant Mind

"OUCH!"

are you ok?

"Mommy! My elbow feels spicy!"

whaat?

(toddling in holding said elbow)

"I SAID my elbow feels spicy!"

Ohhh.. you hit your funny bone.

"NOT FUNNY! SPICY!"

Ok, Cocopugs. It'll be fine in a minute.

Go Play!

Sneak Peak!

I am singing at a recital on Monday, July 13 at 7PM at the Mennonite Church in Normal. The recital is a fund raiser for the Van Leer Scholarship Program at Immanuel Bible Foundation, and is also being used as a research project for some doctoral students at U of I. One of the projects for research was to write a vignette about how taking music lessons has changed your life. The following is going to be read at the recital while the stage is being changed before my piece:

How taking music lessons has changed my life...

Taking music lessons was a rite of passage in our busy home. My parents created an environment where music was not only a source of fun, it was a respected aspect of our education. I am the 3rd child in a family of 8 children and early on each of us had a required 2 year stint with the local piano teacher. Some of us did pretty well and continued far past that time, some of us did not; but the message was clear: Music is important.

My parents sacrificed so that we could take lessons. My parents both loved music and changed my life by making it a priority in our home.

It was destined to be, as they first met in high school chorus when Dad pulled Mom's ponytail. Thus began a soundtrack of highschool sweethearts: He the marching band drummer, she the drum majorette with her high stepping white go go boots. Later, he the rebel drummer in a rock and roll band, she the oratorio singing chorister. And not too far after that, they were married and created a home of their own. As a child, I was equally exposed to a steady diet of eclectic extremes. Mom jamming to the Beach Boys in the station wagon, turning it up ridiculously loud, Dad discovering the New Testament and being touched by Handel's Messiah, introduced by Mom. We danced to Three Dog Night in our socks, trying to not jump too hard thus causing the record to skip, and we sang in close harmonies on the way to church. Dad drummed in a dance band to pay for all of our piano lessons initially, and then continued as we all started various instruments at school. Mom had music playing at home on a regular basis, and in seasons: Brandenburg Concertos in the fall, Vivaldi Four Seasons in the spring, James Taylor, Mary Chapin Carpenter and Beach Boys in the summer. And at Christmas, we listened to Messiah, all the way through. Saturday nights were for the Muppet Show and Austin City Limits, Sunday morning was for Sounds Of Faith on the radio.

Dad was encouraging by being present at our recitals and by talking philosophically about music as it related to faith and life. Mom was encouraging because she listened and helped shape practice time, she organized our schedules with the piano teacher, and went to bat for me when I wanted more musical information from my lessons. She had a plethora of books about history and the arts, and she gifted us with new music at birthdays and holidays. Both of my parents told us how much pleasure they got out of hearing us play piano, or drums, or flute, or trumpet, or trombone, or oboe, or saxophone, or singing, or guitar.

I am blessed to be the 3rd daughter in this family where so much more than pop culture and outside life was celebrated in our home. Our relationships with each other were the priority, and of course things were not perfect. But we had a true gift in the attitudes led by my mother and father in their love of music.

What? I have a blog?

Hello, Internet world.  Yes, I have a blog, I write in in occasionally, very occasionally as of late.  I have had lots of ideas for good stories lately, some ideal things to ponder about, funny life situations, but alas, I have pregnancy stupids and this post is already riddled with red underlinings denoting my bad spelling.  

I can't remember what I'm supposed to be doing, let alone writing about what I am thinking.  SO here's a quick update, rundown, new photos, etc etc etc:  Latest and Greatest:  

• CB has new glasses.  They haven't yet left her face since getting them yesterday which confirms in my mind how needed they are.  I had an idea she was a little far sighted, but when we went to the Optometrist, I was surprised at how much she needed them.  When she put them on, the first thing she said was how big things looked, and how she could read little things.  While I was driving home she said "Mom!  My hands have wrinkles!"  Let's hope this will help when Kindergarten starts in the fall.   
• CB is also riding her bike with NO training wheels.  She is thrilled with her new sense of freedom because she can ride so fast like the wind.  So she says...  Cocopugs hasn't gotten to use her bike with training wheels yet because her little legs are too short to reach the pedals for a full turn.  She is sad about this, but still chases her sister while she rides.  It's been a pretty fun summer so far.  
• Cocopugs is potty trained!  She is a sneakster, though and has figured out that the simplest "I have to go potty" throws her mommy and daddy into a hustle bustle of getting her to said location.  Now, she REALLY has to go when we tell her to finish her milk at supper, or when she is sitting in time out.  She smiles when she knows she's in trouble...  Which alternatively drives me crazy and makes me laugh.  
  
• Our new baby is a girl!  She will arrive this fall, due on Oct 30.  I have already been telling her that Hotel Mommy closes on Oct 15, and if she wants to stay a couple of days after it's ok.  BUT absolutely no later that Oct 25.  It's never too early to establish who the boss is.  (this will be a fun post to read on November 5 when I am writhing in labor pains because she naturally will be my most stubborn child)  
• Pat is working a whole week this week, which has been rare this year, due to the weather.  The economy isn't helping my business too much, lots of kids off for the summer, and we'll see who returns this fall.  But anyway, Pat is booked for work for the rest of summer and into the fall which is good news if the weather cooperates.   It has been a good exercise to see that we CAN exist on a bird wire budget for a while.  I am ready for it to be over, though.  
• Someone is knocking on my door-  gotta run!!

The Kick

I have a clean kitchen.  I have toys that are mostly organized.  I have finished house on the horizon.  Still, there are floors to vacuum, bathrooms to scrub, bedrooms to finish.  A husband home next week to hunt turkey, and father in law to accompany, an appraisal Tuesday, and a big holiday weekend. 

But most important today, I have a clean kitchen.

My kitchen was remodeled spring 2008, and it is really lovely.  My husband, some cold beer, and a merry band of family members pitched in and got most of the work done in about 3 weeks.  Yup, it was a long 3 weeks, but short in the grand scheme of things.  

Most of the time, my floor is crunchy, the counters covered in stuff, and the stainless appliances greasy and fingerprinted.  

Today, the floor is clean and scrubbed, the cabinets shiny, the counters disinfected, and the smudges un smudged.  Have I mentioned I am totally addicted to the Shark? And the handheld steamer I got with purchase?  But alas, my infomercial issue is for another day.  So I am sitting here ignoring my children running in the other room and enjoying the clean kitchen with a snack. 

Dang!  Crumbs on the floor!!  

Ah well, Love's Labors Lost...

She's Up

It's early.  Like 1:15 AM Early, and I am up eating rice krispies at the kitchen table.  There was only one bowl left in the box, and I am sad because I could have easily eaten 2, maybe 3 bowls.  It's strange to be so hungry.

I woke up an hour ago to a crying girl with a bad dream, and then a song took hold in my head, then I had to go to the bathroom, and well, you know about the hunger.  Can't sleep.

There is a gentleman at our church who is my friend.  He is 92 and at the end stages of his life.  We have been friends for 4 years, he called me on the phone one sunday afternoon after I had sang a Bach Cantata at church that morning.  He just called to tell me he really enjoyed the music, and we started talking about the german language, which then turned into a chat about his service in WWII.  He was a highly decorated soldier, and after that conversation I always remembered to acknowledge him on memorial day and veterans day.  We had many wonderful conversations over the last few years, and my life has been enriched by this unlikely relationship.   

When he was 89, we were talking before church one day and he said "Jane, I'm 89 and when the time comes would you please sing Softly and Tenderly at my funeral?"  I told him he had lots of good years left, and he just looked at me and said "but I'm ready whenever the time comes."  So that summer I sang the song during church, and we talked about it after-  I told him I had wanted him to actually get to hear it before the big day, and he laughed and said thanks-  

I think his big day is coming very soon-  he had a fall at the beginning of the year and lost his short term memory.  He didn't remember me or our talks.  And this week he had yet another fall and is failing quickly. I am awake tonight singing Softly and Tenderly in my head, and tearing up.    Its still hard to let someone go, even when the time has come and he's ready.  

Why should we tarry when Jesus is calling? Calling 'O Sinner, Come Home'?  

New Post!

The New Post icon is like instant writers block as of late.  I am not off the couch from my

 afternoon nap, and here it is time to start dinner.    So get over the writers block, or make dinner.  Obviously the choice is clear!!  

So this quote has been rattling in my head for a while:

Success is the ability to go from one failure to another with no loss of enthusiasm.

-Sir Winston Churchill

I love it on so many levels.  I like the encouragement of having no loss of enthusiasm, and I like how it twists some of my perceptions of failure into an opportunity to reflect and improve.  

Now I have to cook dinner.  

It's been a while

Catch up is not really fun.  I've been lousy the last couple of weeks and things are just piling up one after the other.  I am totally frustrated with the state of my home, the state of my children, and the state of my body.  

Let's tackle them:

#1 My house:  Someone should really take pity on me and send a maid my way.  I need someone who is willing to turn a blind eye to tomato soup on the underside of the table, crusts under the chairs, and CLUTTER CLUTTER EVERYWHERE.  Really, I do have standards that include scrubbed and clean bathrooms and a clean kitchen.  I did all that yesterday.  But what's waiting for me is 5 baskets of laundry that need to be folded and put away, toys that need sorted and moved downstairs, and a paper monster that threatens even the strongest of constitutions.   I can't even walk through my living room without tripping on a damn cootie leg.  It's sad. However, the weather has been so nice that I've been able to escape and avoid the inside of my house for at least a couple of days.  Pretty soon, the piper must be paid.  Which leads me to #2

The Children:  THEY ARE DRIVING ME CRAZY.  I have spent way too much time with them this last month.  Either that, or they are just on my nerves a little more lately.  Or I just have no patience.   How about all 3?  Yesterday CB was so clingy and curious that by 8:15 at bedtime with no daddy around to help I lost my mind, gave her a thunk on the head and sent her to bed.  I am an admitted head thunker, not my best parenting choice, but it does get her attention and she went to bed with no further incident.   I still felt bad.  I am substituting at her school this week.  It's fun.  She is still clingy.  And the 2 year old is acting... well, 2.  It's been a long week. What is today, anyway?  

My Body:  Why does it attack me while I'm trying to bring a new life into this happy springy world?  All I want is a nice night of sleep without nausea and leg cramps.  I want a day not tinged with fatigue and irritation.  I crave silence.  I wish my nose wasn't so sensitive.  I can't eat more protein.  Really, I've been eating a hard boiled egg at bedtime, cottage cheese for snacks, and regular meat for meals.  I don't even want very many cookies.  This is very bizarre.  COOKIES!!  What kind of alien has taken residence in my tummy?  Hmmm...maybe I should try french vanilla ice cream.  MMmmm...  with caramel and chocolate chips...  

Things aren't so bad-  this is an exciting time.  I am just overwhelmed and tired.  Things will be better in the next few weeks.   

I will just sit back and wait for the maid...