My 3 Favorite Cold & Flu Remedies

As a big family, “the bug” can knock us over like lined up dominoes. If one of us is coming down with {whatever’s going around} on Tuesday {Stamp Night} or Sunday {family dinner night}, a few days later someone else is catching it, too.

At the Haasienda, I keep a few Go-To home remedies to help combat the bugs. Sometimes my remedies help lighten the virus’s effects, sometimes they help us avoid the bug altogether. Sometimes, they don’t do diddly.

My first choice remedy is the homeopathic aconitum napellus (aconite). It’s the best defense in the first few days of an illness—four tablets under the tongue at least four times a day. ~Try not to eat or drink anything for at least fifteen minutes before and after each dose. That lessens its punch.~ Aconite is one among hundreds of homeopathic remedies. Whatever's bothering you, there’s a homeopathic to help. Before using the remedies, do some research on Google and get a reference book or two (like Everybody’s Guide to Homeopathic Medicines.) These aren’t one-size-fits-all magic pills, so please do your due diligence. They are worth investigating.

Next...I put my face over a pan of steam and drape a towel over my head. The steam (usually with a few drops of White Flower Oil) opens up my sinuses and might even kill some germs on its way to my lungs. Steam can also relieve a sinus headache.
Last, but not least…Grapefruit Seed Extract (GSE), recommended by my D.O. (Dr. K) at least a decade ago. I use 20 drops in half a glass of orange juice {to mask its bitterness} a few times a day.

These remedies {found at natural foods stores and online} lessen my symptoms and shorten my healing time. Often they thwart the bug completely. Even if it’s a placebo effect, I’ll take it.

What are your favorite home remedies?
 

 

  GSE, Aconite, White Flower Oil

 

Today’s events in Connecticut are heartbreaking. To have the lives of at least twenty-six people—most of them young children—abruptly, violently, purposefully taken is incomprehensible. I can't understand how someone, no matter how mentally ill, can see this as a solution. Through our human nature, we may want this person to suffer a slow and tortuous death, and then design a special place of torture for him to live. Forever.

But that won’t bring the babies back. It won’t mend our {global} grief, or the personal pain that we {even those of us who have lost a child to disease} can ever understand.

Even the satisfaction of the criminal’s slow and painful death couldn’t come close to mending the evil done.

Will gun control prevent this from happening again? Not as long as there is a black market for the black-hearted.

Will mandatory psychological evaluation prevent it? Not as long as much of the human mind remains a mystery.

Will outlawing violent video games, music, and movies save the future? Probably not. There will always be darkness in a few hearts who seek to inflict their pain on others.

Today, I pray for those shuddering under this heavy net of pain cast wide and far over families and communities. And I ask you to put a recurring note on your calendars to lift-up to God those left behind. In a few months, this event will be tucked into the back of our minds. I hadn’t thought of the Amish school attack, Columbine, or the 1979 shooting here in San Diego, in a long time. A reminder to pray for the continuing healing of these families {might} go a long way.

God bless you all…

 

Grandma and Papa Do Disneyland

When our kids were small, Dave came home from the hardware store one day with a fat six-foot length of sprinkler pipe. Later that afternoon, he brought it to our room—a cap on each end and a slot near one of the caps. {Our change jug never seemed to get very full so Dave, suspecting foul play, switched tactics for saving his loose change every day.} Big treats were a rarity, but every two to three years, we cashed in our silver for a trip to Disneyland. (The pennies went to Papa Don -Dave’s dad- for the Shriner’s burn hospital.)

Even the kids put money into the tube. As the sprinkler pipe neared full, dinner conversation centered on the upcoming trip to Anaheim. These trips were in the autumn or the early spring, and always on a mid-weekday.

Two days before the excursion, Dave cut the bottom cap from the pipe and ceremoniously dumped the change onto the living room floor. And I DO mean ceremoniously. I can still see him dragging the heavy tube in from the garage. “Oh, no! Somebody better come help me! This thing is so heavy…there it goes…I…think I’m…going…to drop it!” By then he had all the help he could manage. Groaning, they helped Dad lift the tube upside down. “Look at that mountain of money!” Yep. He should have been in theater, not the geek Chess Club in high school. With the pile on the floor, we started guessing the total. The closest got bragging rights.

We had our jobs—Dad fished out the dollar bills (sometimes waving a twenty in their faces), Steve-quarters, Amy-dimes, Nick-nickels, and I watched over the flying arms. Dave and I helped the kids fill and secure their coin rolls.

The day before our trip, the kids and I went to the bank, exchanging our heavy load for paper money. Home again; I called Disneyland to find out tomorrow’s hours {sometimes they opened an hour earlier than scheduled} and which rides were closed. That night at dinner, we planned our attack—listing our favorite rides. When we got to Disneyland, we were pinballs shooting around the park until we completed our list.

Our Spring 1987 trip looked something like this…

Arrive forty-five minutes before the park opens

Wait with the crowd for Main Street’s velvet rope to drop

Speed walk to Space Mountain (less than a five-minute line)

Star Tours

Pirates of the Caribbean

Tea Cups

Haunted Mansion

Small World (for Baby-JaeJae *wink*)

Mr. Toad’s Wild Ride (for Dad)

Dumbo…

…then we slowed down a little. We’d finished our list within an hour and a half. The next hour, we spent waiting in short lines for a few more rides (Pinocchio, People Movers, and the train around the park) before heading to Tomorrowland Terrace for lunch.

We stayed until they closed—after the parade (a great time to hop on the popular rides) and a little shopping. The drive home was quiet—the kids asleep and Mom halfway there. We have DONE Disneyland again.

Amy went with some friends once, expecting them to bounce enthusiastically around the park like we do. Not so. That night she told us, “When we got there, they bought some coffee and sat in the Plaza—sipping, looking at the map, and talking to each other about what they want to see today. By the time we got on our first ride, our family would have been getting off of our sixth!”

After looking forward to this trip for more than two years, our family didn’t want to waste a moment at the Happiest Place on Earth.

Today, things are different. This year, Dave’s company held their annual employee appreciation day at Disneyland. We were able to buy California Select passes at a deep discount by applying that day’s tickets {and two Disney gift cards from a few years ago} to new passes. Since last July, we’ve been six times.

Now we arrive a little after the park opens, hit a few rides and then amble through the different “Lands” searching for hidden Mickeys. We’ve learned to love California Adventure almost as much as Disneyland. And we love the slow pace we set for ourselves.

Although we still enjoy Disneyland, by going so often it’s lost some of its excitement….unless we bring a grandbaby with us. Then we get to see it through fresh eyes again.

              Even after they grew up...we still DO D'land! Nick and Steve in 1996

One Idea to Preserve Family Traditions

Thanksgiving…my favorite day. From autumn’s first flirty nip in the August twilight, I look forward to the cooking, the fun, and a house full of family in late November. It’s been a few years since Papa Dave and I have spent the holiday with our entire family. This year we’ll have a nearly complete set of offspring. (Tho we’re bummed grandson Nic can’t make it.) That’s 26 of us, plus another 15 extended family. I’m praying it doesn’t rain. But Dave and I love filling the Haasienda* with family and friends. {*We call our vaguely Spanish style home “the Haasienda”, replacing first part of the Spanish word for estate (hacienda) with our last name.}

As per our tradition, the day before Thanksgiving, my girls and the kids are coming to cook. We’ll make rolls, pies {chocolate, pumpkin, my mom’s secret-recipe cherry pie}, and fudge. Lots and lots of fudge. We’ll get a jump-start on the next day's meal by chopping and cooking some of the veggies, setting out bowls and platters, and rearranging furniture.

Last November our family lived in three different states. But, Amy and Jae were able to make our traditional dinner without Mom. Five years ago, I made Thanksgiving cookbooks—with recipes, pictures from Thanksgivings past, the menu, shopping list, a time line, and family quotes.

Making the nine copies took about a week. I already had most of the supplies and I found the 8x8-inch photo albums on clearance at Target. Each page of the book came together as I approached it with stamps, stickers, printed recipes, and not a clue how to put it together.

My girls turn to these books often {not only on Thanksgiving} for recipes and hints. Each of them has told me that this idea, that came unexpectedly, is one of their favorite gifts from me. Long after I’m gone, {maybe I’ll retire in Fiji. You never know…} my daughters and granddaughters will have Thanksgiving at their fingertips, complete with memories and a grocery list.

If you want to know more about the cookbook, or have ideas to share, I’d love to hear them!
 

Pssst…Mom’s secret recipe is on the far right of the page….

In 1979, my son Steve could really put away the pie…

…so could his little sister and brother (Amy and Nick).

 

A Thanksgiving cookbook wouldn't be complete without a few ideas for the leftovers.

My mom with her feet up after a long-ago, long Thanksgiving day. Miss her...

 No matter how you spend the day, I hope you feel the blessings of the past year, and stay open to many more in the coming year.

 

 

How to Like Your Kid(s) ~ Teens

I love kids of all ages, but I’m especially fond of teenagers. Though they seem to challenge parents at every turn, they need encouragement at a time many adults turn their backs to the stereotypical model they assume all teens are. Your teen is so close to becoming the person they will be—the adult who will make decisions for our futures…at the polls and near the end of our lives.

That’s why this post has been the most difficult, by far, to write. I want to do them justice without whitewashing the realities of separation and becoming that are like another birth, complete with its own labor pains.

The trouble with teens is they have truly adult feelings and thoughts that are unprotected by the layers of experience shielding our hearts and minds. Everything they feel, they feel completely, whereas we feel through protective membranes developed by experience. {Honestly, some people call this callousness or cynicism. I prefer to see it as a natural patina that improves with age.}

So…how do you get to like a teenager? The same way you grow to like anyone. Spend time with them. Time is at a premium now, but make sure to include your teen in family activities—cooking, family game night, and family outings. Talk with them, but more important, listen. This is how to get to know your kid as a person. Who he’s becoming. What she believes. What they want out of life, and what they plan to put into life.

Withhold judgment…often. Choose your battles. Some are not worth fighting {hairstyle and color, most piercings, non-vulgar slang—to barely scratch the surface} and winning those can undermine the relationship you’ve worked hard to build.

Trust, but not blindly. If your teen wants to spend the night with a friend, check with the other parents. Check your teen’s chat and surfing history. Who are they talking to? Who are their friends? This isn’t excessive—unless, of course, you hang it over them like a guillotine—as always, find balance.
 Hold true to yourself. My friend told me, “My kids’ blaring rock music is driving me crazy!”
“Mine aren’t allowed to listen to Metallica and the like when I'm home.”

“Oh, they’re going to do it anyway,” she lamented.

“Sure, and they can do it somewhere where it won’t grind my nerves to a pulp.”

But, that was me. Your style may be more like my friend’s. We both had teens that are now great adults.

Another piece of advice that helped keep the peace in our family…if s/he gets a ticket, s/he pays for the ticket. Traffic violation or a concert, that’s their responsibility. My son Steve saw where his friend ended up {unemployed, homeless, and hopeless} after years of the mom bailing him out of tight situations he continued to create for himself long into adulthood (payday loans, disconnected utilities, diapers for the baby, even jail). Steve knew tight situations, too. He also spent time in jail. Coming home after a week there, he told me, “I am so glad you didn’t bail me out, Mom. I know I never want to go back there and I plan to stay out.”

The whole point of raising kids is to help them grow into effective citizens. Stretching limits at the right time teaches them to make choices. {Choices that began early with, “Do you want the red cup, or the blue cup?” and eventually include the complicated questions of right and wrong in every aspect of life.} They’re going to make mistakes. They have to make mistakes—and pay the penalties of those mistakes. Without consequences, they can’t learn the lessons. If they start making choices early, those consequences are minor. I may be wrong, but I think this is why too many college freshmen spend too much time partying and not enough time studying. Decision-making is an unrehearsed concept.

 Preparing for this post, I asked my daughter, Amy, what’s the most challenging part of mothering her two teen daughters. “I want to stay close to them, but let them go at the same time. It's quite the balancing act!”
Well stated. Knowing when to set limits, stretch those limits, and then drop them altogether means keeping all your plates spinning at the same time*, always assessing maturity level. And there aren’t any hard and fast rules. With each teen, the timing of loosening the limits changes because no two siblings are exactly alike. A balancing act, indeed.

*http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Zhoos1oY404 (a great analogy for parenting!)

Joining the track team is a great way to burn off those unharnessed energies of youth. Here, Robyn runs cross-country for her school.

P.S. One of my favorite negotiations with my teens…..

“What time do I have to be home?”

“Ten. You’ve got a class tomorrow.”

“Can’t I stay till eleven? You know I’ll be up that late, anyway?”

“Nope. Be in the door by nine.”

“What!? Ten is fine."

I haven't forgotten.....

I had no idea I'd have this much trouble finishing the post on teens! It wasn't very long ago that my home was full of teen-agers...mine and many others. But when writing gets tucked between sewing {I got Cannon's quilt finished!}, online classes {I'm only one lesson behind}, and housekeeping {oh, who am I trying to kid?}, it's hard to keep a thought long enough to commit it to paper.
But, God willin' and the creek don't rise, I'll finish and post it by Monday.


Oh...I've also been very busy grandmothering!

How to Like Your Kid(s) p4 ~ School Years

     His world just got a whole lot bigger, expanding into a realm that doesn’t revolve around you. Be involved in this new world. Although it’s next to impossible for moms and dads who work outside the home to volunteer at school, if you’re able, as little as an hour a week or chaperoning an occasional field trip can go a long way to help you see into this world. If you can’t go to the class to help, maybe the teacher can send a small project to you. Some teachers go the extra {hundred} miles for their students and appreciate help with cutting, grading, or gathering extra supplies. There’s an extra dimension of closeness when you know what’s going on at your kids’ school.

     You’ve just barreled in from your outside job, dinner is a mere question in your mind, and the laundry languishes in the basket? Instead of rushing headlong into the work, take a five- or ten-minute Family-Flop-Break—everyone who's home, get comfy on the sofa or flop onto the bed. Ask questions. “What’s the coolest thing you learned today?” or “What did you do at recess today?” Ask questions that “yes” or “no” won’t fit.

     Now’s no time for sitting around! Or is it? A few minutes of talking about the day can save time-consuming whining from all of you as the night wears thin. After your FFB,  talking about the day {or whatever},  while making dinner together gives even more time to share, and tuck in a few covert lessons along the way.

     One way our family chose to stay close was homeschool. I know it’s not for everyone, and I’m not sure I could have done it for seventeen years without the county office of home education program. They provided books and workshops for our Kindergarten through eighth graders. If you’ve ever thought about home schooling, research it first. I talked with experienced friends and read several books. Homeschooling for Excellence by Colfax was my favorite. (It’s still in print.) If you decide to go for it—your first year is not a reliable yardstick. It takes time to figure out each other’s learning and teaching styles. Also, don’t be overwhelmed by the amount of work. You have a year and many avenues to the same destination. But that’s a whole 'nother blog post!

 

 

 Jae (blue flowered shorts set) getting into a Dance & Sing Workshop at our homeschool office.

How to Like your Kid(s) 3 ~ Pre-School

     Sometime between two and four, we see that our baby isn’t a toddler anymore, but a walking, talking preschooler! How the heck did that happen?

     Break out the Candyland, small playground balls, and crayons and paper. At first, she will NOT follow the rules of the game. It’s an emerging alien concept. The part about taking turns at mixing bowl in the kitchen {might} get transferred to the game board—but counting squares will take longer to grasp. I pretty much let the little ones wander all over the board, even when we play with the older ones. It’s a good lesson for the big kids. “See where you used to be? Wow! You sure have grown!” usually, the little ones wander back and forth to play with something else before the game’s over, and that’s okay, too.

     Contrary to popular 70s tradition, I love coloring books. As they get older, we talk about tracing and staying in the lines, but there’s something beautiful about a scribbled up page, too.

I was so strict with my first one, that I didn’t give him doodling material. At four, he took one of my small tablets and a pen from the kitchen counter, making tiny multi-circles all over many of the pages. My friend saw it. “I can imagine him furtively glancing over his shoulder while he did this.” Live and learn. After that, I bought kids their own art supplies. I kept paper and pen {along with a few matchbox cars}in my purse for unexpected boring times, too.

     By now, there might be a sibling in the house. Big brother or sister can be lots of “help” fetching clean diapers, checking on baby, and singing to him. There are sure to be moments of jealousy, but they don’t have to dominate the house. While nursing it’s easy to snuggle with your bigger “baby” and read a story, or even tell a story {maybe about when she was a baby}. While Nick (#3) napped, I often asked Amy what she wanted to do. “Play Barbies!” We stretched out on the living room floor, play-acting with Barbie, Skipper, and the crew.

     When Amy’s second child was a napping toddler, there was so much to do, and some things she didn’t feel like doing with Kirstie. I finally confessed, “Remember when we played Barbies while Nick napped?”

“Yeah! I loved that!”

“Well, I really hated playing Barbies!”

“Oh! I never knew.” She got the point. Sometimes we sacrifice what we want to put time into the bank of Relationship. It pays greater dividends than an hour on the sofa reading.

     Don’t get me wrong. We NEED the reading/crafting/whatever ME time, too. Without enough ME we can’t give to THEM. But we have to find the balance between the two. And giving a block of one-on-one time goes a long way in easing jealousies.

Not really representative of the post, but it IS a brother and sister having fun. :)

Amy-4, Nick-2 at the Del Mar Fair...1980 

 

Toddlers

No matter what you’ve heard, don’t believe the myth of the terrible twos. Every age has its difficulties—but those are far-outweighed by its joys. When (if) tantrums come, take him to his own quiet place {not too far from you…hearing your voice and activity is reassuring}. A living room chair or a corner you can see are good choices. {I once put my 10-year-old son in an obscure corner of the living room and forgot him for more than an hour! Poor kid never said a word…} On the way, use your normal, calm tone, “When you’re finished, you can come back.” It’s up to him how long he’s there. He’s not going to understand all of this yet, but soon he’ll figure out that tantrums separate him from the fun.
~ A good rule of thumb for time out is one minute per age of the child.~

    Have you started reading to her yet? She probably enjoys a few favorite books by now, even when she’s rushing ahead in the familiar story. I used to get exasperated with my first toddler. He asked questions, pushing at the pages forward and back as I droned the story to him. “Do you want to hear the story or not!?” Luckily, my dad was in the room one night during story time. 

     “That’s not how you read to a kid!” He grabbed the book from me. “Come here, Steve.” Dad proceeded to read the story, but his delivery had feeling! Our family’s experience of story time forever changed. My kids particularly loved the different characters' voices. Sesame Street’s Grover was my favorite to mimic, especially in The Monster at the End of This Book.

     Pull a step stool into the kitchen. Toddlers love to help cook {even though it’s extra work and not much help at all. But it beats plopping him in front of the TV and wondering if he’s staying there}. At first, you’ll have to make up jobs for them, like stirring a little bowl of flour you won’t really use. When they really do start helping me with the prep, we take turns. He mixes the dry ingredients together, and then I have a turn. The whisk passes back and forth until the job’s finished. None of them have ever figured out that they aren’t doing a real job. We’re just sharing. And the whole time we're talking—about the food, the day, whatever comes to mind.

     Five-year-old Owen has been our sous chef so long, he reminds me to wash my hands and hang clean towels on our shoulders. Cooking is always more fun when I have my little helpers!

 

Jax with his own lump of dough while we make bisuuits.

Yes we baked his, and they were delicious!

Next ~ Preschoolers!

 

HOW TO LIKE YOUR KID(s)

I’m trying something new here…a series. Fun! It’s a class assignment; post every day for a week. I have trouble posting once a week, so this will be a challenge. But here we go—on a topic near and dear to my heart. Liking your children.

 

Your kids. Gotta love ‘em. Even though we don’t always like them. A few habits can go a long way in helping us grow a likeable person.

Baby

     *The first chore of childcare is actually an opportunity to show this new little human that you enjoy her company. Diaper changing. Whether it’s a pee or a poop, I see parents rushing through this quality time with baby.

     Instead, before even unpinning un-taping the diaper, tell her what you’re doing. “Uh-oh! Someone needs a change. Let’s get that done before you start to get an owie on your bum.” If it’s a poop, remind her, “That’s okay. Everybody poops!” This isn’t a one-way chat. Give little pauses. Listen. Look into her eyes. In no time, she’ll be joining you. Count the tapes as you attach the diaper. Count the toes inside her socks. Count her legs as you stuffed them into her pants slide the pants back on. Idle conversation during changing time might be a foundation for sharing thoughts with your teens—but let’s not rush ahead, yet.

     Don’t be in a hurry to get through a disagreeable task. Diaper changing is an act of love—real quality time.

    * It’s never too early to start reading to baby. At a month old, my grandson Jax calmed down when his mom or dad read to him during poison hour. {You know that time of day—the same time every day, that baby gets cranky—usually dinnertime. Oh yeah. Poison hour.} Jax especially loved Runaway Bunny in the deeper timbre of his daddy’s voice. It didn’t work every time, of course, but it didn’t hurt, either.

      During Poison Hour when our kids were little, my husband liked to carry them outside, explaining things like the sun’s energy making the boulders around our yard warm and about trees eating the same sun light to grow. {“That’s called Photosynthesis.”}

     Our kids didn’t grow up to be rocket scientists. They didn’t understand these things at the time. But they have grown up to be people we like… 

 

 

It's never to early to include them in family conversations! Here's Robyn, our fifth of five, less than 30 minutes old with her big sis, Jae. (December 31, 1989) That night when the fireworks started exploding, I whispered to her, "Oh, listen! Everyone is so excited you're finally here. The whole world's having a big party!" A story I told her six more times.
At seven, she learned about New Year's Eve.
                                She hasn't quite forgiven me yet.....

                                                                

{Next ~ Toddlers!}

 

Museum Buddies

One of our family’s favorite places, and a true San Diego treasure, is Balboa Park.

Last time Amy and I went {with nine kids} we spent the morning at Ruben H Fleet Science Center. My kids grew up with frequent trips to the Fleet. As a grandparent, annual passes are a great bargain, and all the kids can come with me. There’s always something new, or something we missed on our last visit, or a favorite exhibit we return to again and again.

Jax was already a veteran visitor to Balboa Park, but this was Zeke’s first expedition. A wealth of visual and auditory sensations awaited him. This outing, instead of trying to keep track of all the kids ourselves, we buddied each of the older kids with a younger cousins. Why hadn’t we thought of this before? With Kenzie strapped to her mom, four buddy-pairs toured the Science Center. The one-on-one attention offered the little ones even more fun, and the older ones saw it from a child’s view again.

Buddies for the day....
Amy and Kenzie just hanging out

Shaking the big ball side-to-side makes the marble on the inside spin around the big ball’s circumference. It takes only a little motion to transfer enough energy to make the marble whirl around the big ball. Zeke’s eyes nearly whirled around inside his head!

Kyle & Zeke

Fallon and Jax have fun playing with perception.

Kirstie and Owen experience energy transference

 Josh and Ethan take a spin

Fallon, Zeke, Kyle, Owen, Jax, Kirstie, Josh, & Ethan

Can't wait to go back!

 

 

 

     

 

 

 

And Cannon Makes 14

On October 17, after the perfect storm of labor, our fourteenth grandbaby arrived. A life-long (and pregnancy-long) hypertensive, the doctor induced Jae’s labor to keep both Mom and Baby safe. {Pitocin induction makes for an intense labor.} With Baby facing “sunny side up,” Mom had back labor, too. {If you haven’t had back labor, consider yourself blessed among women. It’s so much more painful!} Then, Jae’s first epidural failed, something her doc had never seen.

But through the exaggerated pain, Jae never begged for a C-section and did not try to pull Sean’s bottom lip over his head. {Please see Bill Cosby: Himself for a full explanation. You won’t regret it.} As a team, they brought Baby into the world au-natural {plus the pharmaceuticals, of course}.

 

We didn’t know if they were expecting a boy or a girl. Even bribes by aunties itching to buy gender-specific baby clothes didn’t sway mom and dad to find out. After Kenzie and Quinn, I was hoping for a girl to round out the playgroup, and make further use of their beyond-cute outfits. But, God has a sense of humor.

Sean met us in the waiting area. “Come on in and meet Cannon Christopher.”

Six pounds-thirteen ounces, nineteen inches long. Hair the color of almonds. Blue eyes, hinting at green—already alive with curiosity. He looks like a little old man. Dad calls him Benjamin Button.

Speaking of nicknames, what do you call a fellow named Cannon? When Papa Dave suggested Boom, Boomer also made the rounds. Mom nixed those right away. Aunt Robyn tried Pac {for Papa’s favorite piece of classical music, Pachelbel’s Canon}. As we get to know him, his nickname will evolve. Until then, Cannon will do just fine.

Welcome home...

 

 

More Catching Up......

In June, Eva (the Pit Bull) got a new kitty (Briscoe)…

  

...and then four more. Robyn named them Jayne, River, Inara and.....Gremlin. I think I'll call him Book. She says we never knew the Shepard's first name, so it COULD be Gremlin.

   

Ethan played baseball this year. During the play-offs, he had the biggest cheering section. Parents, brothers, two sets of grandparents, aunts, uncles, & cousins. Family {insert happy face here}.

Late June the Del Mar Fair made its annual appearance. First, Papa Dave and I went to cruise the hawker-halls, then we went with grandkids. Two totally different Fairs! For years, my favorite fair-game was the dime toss. We usually came away with a few ash-trays (we don’t smoke) and a saucer or, if we were really lucky, a juice glass festooned with cartoon characters. I have no idea how they lost so money on this game that they had to quit. I think I threw $50 a year at those glasses and came away with maybe five pieces! Oh, well. Now we spend our money on ride tickets and the ping-pong ball game. Owen loved the fun house!

 

 

 In July, Amy and Jeremy took the kids to SEP. I think Kensie was the littlest camper this year. After camp, Jeremy had to get back to work in Williams, but Amy and the kids got to hang out with us for a week to meet...

 

....this little gal, before heading home again. Say hello to Quinn—Nick and Marisa’s forth baby, and first daughter! By now, they didn't care either way ~boy, girl~ didn't matter. But this little sweetie, with a calm and happy disposition, is so loved by her big brothers {and the rest of us}. Don't you already feel sorry for her future boyfriends?

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Can it truly be? Have I actually neglected to tell you about my two newest grandkids? Two-thousand-twelve is nearly bursting at the seams for our family, and there are still more than three months to tuck into our memories.

A quick synopsis:

Last August (2011), the day before my birthday, daughter Amy and family moved to Arizona.

We were sad to see them go, but glad they followed their hearts and the Lord’s leading. With Amy suffering the exhaustion of her first trimester while caring for a toddler, I flew out a couple of days later to help them settle in to their new place, giving me a chance to see the area. Utterly beautiful. It was so hard having them move but I understood the desire to live in a small town.

Well, the Lord has us do things so temporary sometimes, and this was one of those times. They moved back this month, on my husband’s birthday! I love being able to drive five minutes to their house, help unpack for an hour, snuggle the babies {okay, baby and toddler plus three teens!}, and come back home to make dinner for us all, while their kitchen improvements are keeping that vital room out of commission.

While they were in Williams, AZ {aka Radiator Springs; honestly, this is a seriously CUTE little town on Route 66. If you ever get a chance, I highly recommend a visit. Be sure to wander the 140-year-old cemetery, too ….I digress}, in March, I visited when Amy and Jeremy’s fifth baby, McKenzie, was born ….another seriously cute attraction!

 

 

I think this little gal favors her mommy as a baby …

  

 In May, I went to Williams again, this time with my husband ~ aka Papa Dave. We couldn’t miss Kirstie’s high school graduation! She and her [fifty-three] fellow graduates enjoyed a ceremony that, unlike big-city graduations, had time to tell us a bit about each senior as a person, not just a name. Although she had been with them only one year, Kirstie was an active part of the senior class. Two of the cords draped around her neck represent college credit classes. The red one is for donating blood.

  

Kirstie will be moving on to cosmetology school soon. Like her Grandma Cathy (Jeremy’s fabulous mom), she wants to help people in a specific way. Cathy has a full service salon {and spa} in San Marcos CA, the Headquarters. But her heart is in helping those who have lost their hair, through either chemotherapy or a disease like alopecia. Kirstie has seen that there are many ways to minister, and this way she can help gals feel better about themselves during a trying time.

 

To be continued…..

 

    

THROWING IN THE TROWEL

       

     My grandpa was a backyard gardener extraordinaire. From the 1940s through the 60s, he and Grandma owned a double lot on Century Blvd in Los Angeles. Half of their property was dedicated to the home they raised their eight children in, two small yards edged with flowers, and in the back stood a garage that doubled as Grandpa’s woodworking shop. On the other half of the property Grandpa set aside space for the kids to play and another area for his enormous garden, where he grew a variety of vegetables, including lettuces, radishes, tomatoes, and beets. The lavender tops of his turnips enticed four-year-old me to struggle one from the ground one day. After carefully wiping the root on my dress, I bit into it, only to discover a pungent white flesh and gritty dirt, not the sweetness of the same-purple jellybeans it reminded me of. On warm summer afternoons, the red juice of ripe strawberries flowed down my chin as I snacked from the rows while Grandma filled her basket for fresh strawberry pies.  

     These visions of the perfect garden still dance in my mind fifty-five years later. I have often set out to replicate a small portion of this memory in my own yard. I make several trips to Lowe’s to purchase large bags of soil for my containers and small raised-bed garden. I buy pony packs of tomatoes, cucumbers, peppers, and melons. I buy enough Cory’s Snail and Slug killer to last the season. I plant. I water. I watch. I watch as my plants disappear one by one to the birds, snails, and bunnies.

     I rejoice when flowers appear on my tomato plants, and when yellow blossoms unfurl on trailing cucumber vines. I despair when those blossoms vanish during the night.

     By the end of the growing season, if any of my plants survive long enough to produce, I serve my family some of the most expensive produce in the county, nay…in the state! My handful of tomatoes, three thin-skinned bell peppers, and two {lemony tasting} cucumbers last summer cost about $55.00 a pound. My biggest success came from three small jalapeno plants, with a few dozen fruits ripening to a sweet heat.

     As spring dictates, this year I made my annual trips to Lowe’s, planted my dream, and have watered, hoped, and watched. But the snails have figured out how to vault over the Corey’s and devour my melon seedlings and basil. Birds pick at my still-green tomatoes.

     As I watered my dwindling garden this morning, I finally accepted what I have known­­­­ all along­­—I’m not a gardener. It’s time I take advantage of the local farmers’ market each week and spend my gardening time {and money} on other activities.

     Oh, I’ll plant sweet peas with my grandkids, and maybe even buy a potted tomato plant from Costco in the spring, but, as much as it pains me to admit, it’s far past time for me to give up my dream of an abundant garden like Grandpa’s.

     And you know what? That’s okay…..

Still looking forward….

"You know what...?"

Walking hand-in-hand with my not-quite-two-year-old grandson on a sunny spring morning, I remembered the many walks my mom took with my own young son. Each morning, Mom invited Steve for a walk to the corner market to pick up a few supplies for the day, though I think her real purpose was to have her little grandson all to herself for a thirty-minute daily adventure. Holding his hand {that barely stretched from one side of her palm to the other}, they unhurriedly headed down the gravel sidewalk, searching for roly-polies and pretty rocks. I loved hearing their stories when they returned. Mom told me one of her favorite things to do as they walked was to remind Steve how much she loved him.

“You know what?” she asked with a singsong lilt.

“What, Gramma?”

“I love you.”

One morning she asked her daily question, but Steve’s response changed. “I know what. You love me.”

 “But do you know how much I love you?”

“How much?” Steve was eager to learn just how much his gramma—who he adored—loved him.

She stopped, squatted to his eye level, and with her hand that wasn't holding his, she pressed pinkie to thumb. “I love you thiiiissss” {pulling “this” into an eight second syllable as she stretched her pinkie and thumb as far from each other as possible} “much!”

With wide blue eyes, my little son thought “thiiiissss” was about as much love as anyone could possibly hold.  

Remembering the sweet tradition my mom kept with my son, I knew that Zeke was still too young to understand my question, but I just had to ask….

“You know what, Zeke?” …..

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Success Breeds Success

As some of you already know, I’m not much of a housekeeper. There are usually dirty dishes waiting in my sink {or on the counter, ugh} and a host of other chores in line behind them. Because of that, I didn’t teach my kids much about keeping up with the constant demands of a home. In that light, this post might not make much sense. But on occasion, the advice herein was relevant even to me.

Laundry Day + Toddlers = Lots of Fun!

Each week, my family of seven generated a mountain of laundry that might have taken me two days to fold, if I could get around to it all. Why else did I have laundry baskets? Chest of drawers? Fahggitabut em. I digress…

I did try to get some folding done, with the help of my little ones. Towels were a good place to start. My toddler searched the basket for washcloths as we chatted about, well...whatever we chat about with a person so new to the world. I especially remember teaching Jae how to fold them. Slowly, I demonstrated folding the square washcloth into neat quarters. With much smoothing of wrinkles [and creation of new wrinkles] Jae carefully spread a cloth on the coffee table {or in my case, tea table…I detest the smell of coffee}, grabbed a corner, pulled it aside, and then bunched it into a ball of constantly changing dimensions. Each cloth, she carefully placed onto a growing—lo­osely configured—pile.

Mission accomplished. Next, we put the towels away {unless something else caught my attention, which happened more often than not—did I mention I’m a bit distractible?}. The under-counter bathroom cabinet was perfectly within my toddler’s reach. After I put the big towels into their space, Jae placed the washcloths next to them. Well, she grabbed a few at a time from the stack (remember, it’s a loosely configured stack) and shoved them in next to the bath towels.

Although I liked the washcloths folded into quarters and placed in two neat stacks alongside the towels, I left the gobs just as Jae put them there. Here’s why…

Bath time.

Jae wanted to do as much by herself as her little two-year-old body would allow. But, I think she didn’t have a two-year-old brain. Being so much younger than her siblings (14, 10, and 8 years), she thought she was much older, and that she should be able to do more than her limited muscle memory allowed. But, back to bath time…warm water covering the bottom quarter of the tub, toys floating, nekked kid antsy to get in….but wait! She needs one more thing, and she can get it by herself. She opens the cabinet and grabs a cloth. From the loosely configured stack.

If I had straightened out the cloths, folded them neatly the way I like them, her job would have been meaningless. I’d have told her by my actions that her job wasn’t good enough.

As we teach our kids the importance of participating in family life and helping to keep hearth and home in order, I think it’s equally important to accept their work at their ability level. Bedspread askew, washcloths in gobs—t­hese things are nothing compared to the sense of accomplishment kids feel when they’ve done a job and the warm glow they feel from your praise of their efforts.

Fear not. Success breeds success. Each time a child­­—or­ grown up, for that matter—wo­rks at a task, they become more proficient at it. The bedspread won't always be askew.

There’s plenty of time to correct and perfect. It’s a long job, this parenting business.

Still looking forward.......

Stop Growing!

When I was a girl, my aunts and uncles used to tell me, “You’re growing like a weed!” Annoyed by the comparison to a garden menace, I’d shrug and run outside to play with my cousins. As the next generation of kids were racing through those formative years {as a Wonder Bread commercial called them}, I used that oldie a few times, myself.

But these days I’m hearing something from parents that I find a bit disconcerting.“Will you please stop growing!?”, usually said with a laugh. I’m sure what they really mean is the same thing all of us who have looked on with amazement at the rapidity with which children grow"Oh my! You’re getting so big so fast, I can’t keep up!” {So, why don’t we just say that?}

In a literal sense, the consequence of compliance with this innocent demand would be dire, indeed. The opposite of growth is stagnation at best, let's not think about the worst.

I wonder….If a child could obey this command, where would that leave us? A perpetual three year old­­­—­or twelve, pick an age­­­­—­never knowing the wonders of the next phase in life? And think of all the joy we would miss out on—­bec­ause ­each stage of development brings its own joys as we help them navigate waters we have already sailed: the sweet toddler, learning about the larger world outside her core family; the preschooler’s emerging sense of humor; in early elementary school, learning to be a partner in the family as he participates in the care and upkeep of the home (okay, okay….. that’s just how I spin chores); junior high brings growing independence and new
responsibilities. And high school­­—w­here they can polish their understanding of the world, helping them to form the society we’ll grow old in? We want them to get there, right? They can’t if they “stop growing!” at one of their cutesy stages.

As a parent, when we’ve been blessed to shepherd our sons and daughters into the adult world, we realize new joys, as this person becomes much more than our child. The amalgamated relationship of son/friend or daughter/friend is like entering the "Bonus Round". They see us from a unique perspective. [Sometimes they remember things we’d rather forget, like how we yelled at them for staying out after the street lights came on, or became frustrated while teaching them how to vacuum.] This is someone who has run the full range of relationship with us. From utter dependence, to student, to antagonistic, to accepting, and finally the greatest blessing that comes from that simple statement,“We’re going to have a baby!”, the child becomes an equal {though never a usurper}, worthy to be called “friend”.

I was blessed with five kids. Each grew up. Each became my friend. Thank God, they didn’t stop growing!

Still looking forward…

Deb

PS…now I teach to vacuum using the analogy of “painting” the floor…..live and {continue to} learn.J