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

Kisses from Braden

What makes a family? When I was a kid family meant the people that came to you biologically through your parents and grandparents. Mine was pretty big. Mom had four sisters and three brothers. Each of them had at least two and as many as five kids. My three siblings and I have 23 cousins. Never a dull moment for the Toll clan during our many gatherings at Grandma and Grandpa’s house or a park for a huge picnic.

My family is a bit smaller {for now} than Grandma’s. We have five kids, three of whom have started their own families.

Kisses from Braden

Ethan & Maddie being goofySome of our kids’ friends would automatically call me Mom when they first met me. I’d allow it but often asked them to call me Debbie [or Mrs. Haas if their parents insisted] because I thought it was an honor to be a mom, not an automatic just because I was a friend’s mom. Maddie was different. She started coming around when she and Jae were about 15 and has been a permanent part of our family ever since. I’m Mom to her, now more than ever.

When our daughter Amy married Jeremy he came with an instant son {Josh} to go with Amy’s two daughters {Kirstie and Kyle}.

Our oldest son passed away in 2003 from complications of diabetes. But he left behind an ex {Lori, who still calls us Mom and Dad}, a wife, and two sons.

A few days after Steve died, I told his widow, Nett, “You know, don’t you, that you will always be a part of our family?”  As our daughter-in-law she held a special place in our hearts, but since then, she has become a true daughter to Dave and me and sister to Amy, Nick, Jae, and Robyn.

A few of the 13

Reading to ShelbyAlmost five years ago Nett was ready to start dating again when she met Jon, who has been an enormous blessing to our family! Right away we could tell that he loved Steve and Nett’s son Chris as much as he loved Nett. When they married, we counted Jon as our son-in-law. This past summer Jon legally adopted Chris, giving him a new last name, but never forgetting Chris’s roots.

In the past two years, Jon and Nett have also given us two new grandchildren; Shelby in 2009 and Braden in 2010. These treasures, including Josh and Lori’s son Jonathan, are indistinguishable from the other gems in our storehouse.

So...what makes a family?

 Blood and DNA are only a small part of the definition for us. More important are the spiritual bonds we feel when God places someone in our life that fits as well as any genetic match.

SEP SoCal 2011

Dave and I decided this was the year to give back to the Spiritual Enrichment Program that has nurtured our children and grandchildren since the 1990s. Honestly....the idea of spending a week with energetic children that are pumped up and full of the Holy Spirit was daunting to say the least. But when we were offered the opportunity to serve as "Dorm Parents" we knew the time was right to dive in.
This year's camp theme was Rooted {in Christ} an though the kids range in age from 8 to 18......WOW! THEY GET IT! Each chapel, debriefing session, and dorm meeting touches on the fact that our lives ~spiritual and physical~are like the life of a tree. We both start as a small seed. We need air, food, and water to nourish us. Each of these elements has a spiritual counterpart. We need the air of God's breath calling to and speaking to us, the food found in our (ideally) daily reading of God's word, and the water of the Holy Spirit flowing through us, washing us clean and spreading out to touch those we meet. As I listen to the kids talk about the message after chapel I am astounded by their level of understanding and how they either have or plan to implement these ideas in their communities when they return home. They want to share the messages, to {re}present Christ and the hope and perfect peace that can be found in Him.
Another thing I am impressed with is the rule system here. Mark and Anne, the SEP SoCal directors, manage to have fair rules regarding dress and safety without being legalistic. They teach and lovingly enforce modesty for both genders. While at camp some of the boys have thanked Pastor Mark for the dress code, telling him it gives them a greater opportunity to really see the girl for who she is, learn about her personality, and hear what she's saying, without the distraction of her cleavage vying for his attention. And the girls have said that it's nice to have the guys look them in the eyes during a conversation instead of them staring at her chest.
SEP also breaks the stereotype non-believers have about being a Christian kid. These kids have FUN! Archery, Bunko, challenge course, drumming, insects and snakes, drama, dance class.....and so much more. There are a few highlights that surpass even these activities. The Senior Camper Dance on Wednesday night {Get Jiggy Wid It} filled, like any teen gathering, with loud music, laughter, and energetic (though decidedly NOT dirty) dancing. These folks know how to enjoy themselves without hangovers or regrets.
There's so much more going on here...the tireless effort of the volunteers, the counselors who use their vacation time and pay their own way to camp to share God's love, the band that plays sometimes three times a day to lead the kids in musical worship....
Yep~
God is good.....All the time!

                                               T, Kyle, and Papa Dave waiting for check in

                                                All checked in. Kyle's a happy camper....



                                                                            ....so is T.

                                                           Chris and Josh ready for chapel.

                   One of my jobs was hanging with Jax while Amy taught a photography class.


                        

                                                                  T at dance class.



                                                             Free style time at the dance...


                                                                  The SEP Shuffle.




                                                          Counselor (& Great Friend!)Kat





 A suprise revealed while we were there! Grandbaby 13 is on {her} way!



                       Dorm Parent/Dining Hall Monitor Dave ready for battle ~paintball!~ with the kids.





                                                                     That was fun!



              Final Chapel. A bittersweet morning. After a taste of heaven they are ready for home to
                                                    share what they've learned.....\



                                                       Home again.....nursing a migraine.
                                           I'm already looking forward to SEP SoCal 2012!