In the Backyard

On Tragedy and Testudo

noreply@blogger.com (Laura) — Wed, 17 Apr 2013 01:44:00 +0000

In ancient Rome, soldiers were trained to employ the testudo – or “tortoise” – position during battle. The formation involved a group of warriors who joined their large, individual shields together with the men inside to create a fairly effective defense against enemy attacks. Just a few days ago, Maya and I studied the testudo formation in our history lessons. I didn’t know how firmly that picture would plant itself in my mind this week.

I formed some shields around my kids yesterday. A vague threat written on a bathroom wall targeted school children in our county and gave Monday’s date as a warning. My daughter being homeschooled, we were mostly unaffected, although my son did go to his morning preschool. The extra police presence around town and schools was obvious, nonetheless, and I had to deflect some questions and hide newspapers. Ultra-sensitive, my kids did not need to know about the anxiety many parents in our county were feeling as watched clocks ticked too slowly toward the sight of returning yellow buses.

Afternoon came with the blessed relief of no local incidents, but then my news feed was overtaken with the horrific news out of Boston. Again, I guarded my children from the reports. Turned the laptop screen away, ducked into another room to compose myself after hearing that one victim was the same age – eight – as my oldest. Unfathomable.

It’s hard to know how best to protect our kids, and what sort of shelter should be our goal. I told Mark last night that it’s tempting to construct a bubble. To form a testudo, and never leave home. Over coffee with friends yesterday morning we mused that the area kids were likely safer at school that day than the three of us were sitting in a Starbucks. The realization was equal-parts comforting and chilling.

This world is just so horribly broken.

Many local parents yesterday chose to shelter their children from potential danger by keeping them home from school. In some districts, the average attendance was just 40% of normal numbers. Others chose to send them, choosing to shelter them by not keeping them home. I think they were all probably as right as could be. We’re all just doing our best to do the best thing, aren’t we?

We want to protect without stifling, nurture toward independence. Encourage wise caution without alarmism, because He has not given us a Spirit of fear – and does not want us to live under it. We want to water the seeds we’ve planted of a faith that calls us to lay ourselves down, and that neither guarantees or obsesses over physical safety. A confidence that will step into adulthood ready to walk and speak a bold love and strong hope to this messed-up, hurting world. And yet, sometimes we wish we could keep them in cribs, drive them in armored cars, and never let them leave our sights. Because they are our babies, and we desperately want to hang onto the illusion of complete control for as long as we possibly can.

How, then, to parent in these times? Even as I type that, I recognize the almost laughable implication in those words that assumes we somehow face more difficult circumstances in present-day America than have parents under violent, tyrannical governments throughout history; parents raising children in the midst of civil and world wars during the past few centuries; countless parents around the world right now holding their beloved babies as they perish from hunger and preventable disease. We long for a redemption awaited by humanity since the Garden. As people holding up the hope of Christ, we know with certainty that it is coming. These days of waiting, though - of shed blood and lost innocence, of securities chipped away with every new discovery of another place we are not safe - they keep our hearts so heavy. They tempt us to hoist those shields and huddle inside. My arms strain under the weight of trying.

The thing is – the testudo wasn’t invincible. Strong though the armor was, and dedicated as were those who carried it, the battle was real, and arrows got through. What’s more, the heavy load carried in that position was awkward and cumbersome. It was difficult to move, and kept those inside merely on the defensive. They couldn’t do much but peek out from behind their shields and shuffle clumsily through the field.

I had a late afternoon eye exam yesterday, and the waiting room was near-silent. Patients distracted from their check-in clipboards, doctors pausing as they walked by. We all sat transfixed by the lobby television, with a cable news station broadcasting images of the bombing over and over again. The door opened and an Amish mother, having arrived by horse and buggy, entered with her two young children. She sat to fill out the requisite paperwork, and her daughter busied herself with a toy. The little boy, though, was obviously drawn to the screen overhead. He first glanced up intermittently, but soon stared frozen, eyes so very wide at the slow-motion video of blast and smoke, debris and blood. My heart broke as I watched him take in this scene – a rare glimpse for this boy of life outside his community. Why this? What must he be thinking?

And I felt it again. That feeling of having no idea how air-tight to construct our shelters. The tension of wanting to invest in heavy-duty bubble wrap and some ancient Roman armor and strive desperately to offer my children an experience of the world that forever tastes like lollipops and looks like Sesame Street, and at the same time wanting them to be brave and bold, fully in the world while – by His grace – not of it.

The testudo will not evade every arrow. It will, in fact, make it difficult for them to move.

I want my children to live with love and joy and abandon. Travel and explore. Run the Boston Marathon and stare down fear. Preparing them for that life is going to take such a careful balance of positioning shields and setting free. It will require wisdom and trust levels that will stretch my own faith to levels previously unknown. My only tactic that will always prove effective will be a steady formation of prayer. Lifting up these battle-weary hands and letting Him relieve the weight.

Today, though, I’ll be honest. I read the local and national headlines and dream of building that bubble, of living under a permanent testudo and placing my trust there. Join me in an armored tortoise, anyone?

It’s not what I really want. It just sounds pretty good today.

Image credit: Wikipedia

Homeschool Newbie: End-of-Year Report

noreply@blogger.com (Laura) — Tue, 09 Apr 2013 16:09:00 +0000

Public Service Announcement: Saying you’re going to start blogging again is an invitation for your laptop to crash.

All is well now, so I’m easing back in with a couple of update posts. And one thing I’ve been asked about several times is how we’re feeling about our experimental year of homeschooling, now that we’re well into spring.

Last March, I wrote on some of my thoughts and fears as we were beginning serious conversations about what to do with Maya’s second grade year. After subsequent conversations with friends, friends-of-friends, and strangers, we decided to try homeschooling for a year and reevaluate.

I began our year with very realistic expectations, thanks to the encouragement of other homeschool moms, and I think that made a huge difference. I knew there would be difficulties, and what those might be, so I was prepared. I was almost surprised by how smoothly our start was – thanks in large part (I believe) to a fantastic curriculum that walked me through each day with enough detail to bolster my confidence.

Ten weeks in, I still couldn’t quite shake my surprise over how much we were enjoying this. We’d established a daily flow, she was actually learning (whew!), and the joys were far outweighing the frustrations.

We’re down to six weeks left in this school year now. And the verdict? We’re hooked. As uncertain as I was last year that I’d be saying this, and as sure as I was a few years ago that I would never utter these words, I simply can’t deny it…

I love being a homeschooling mom.

I love having her home. I love studying a faith-grounded curriculum that embraces classic literature and doesn’t hide from tough subjects. I love the books we’re reading together. I love the fact that my math-averse self has been able to navigate my math-averse child through the subject well enough that she’ll end the year with her multiplication tables learned and even be slightly ahead. (What?!?) I love snuggling on the couch with her every morning, opening her Bible, discussing deep topics. Learning about aspects of ancient Greek, Chinese, and Roman history that I’d never studied before.

I love that she still feels free to be an eight-year-old. That she isn’t coming home anymore with comments indicating the pressure to be into things she’s not ready for and doesn’t need to be. I love that she embraces her interests with confidence. I love that she is as social (and socialized) as she always was – possibly even more so.

I love not having to drag her out of bed every morning. Not gathering backpack, lunch and coat and getting her out to the bus stop. I love being done with school by noon or before, taking days off when we need it, and scheduling a Disney trip for the week that public school is still in session. I love that she has more energy for dance classes and piano lessons, and that she gets so much time to play and read for fun. I love our weekly school dates at the local coffee shop, and our weekly homeschool group gatherings with friends.

She still gets distracted easily and I still get frustrated. But we've learned to work together and how to run our days for the least likelihood of stress. And then sometimes we have a morning full of struggles and we have to take deep breaths and remember that tomorrow is another day. We're learning to roll with the punches.

I hear of more moms all the time considering making this leap, and I relate so deeply to every feeling – the doubts and fears and the little heart-tugs. I get it. And while I would never ever suggest that this path is for everyone (we are still taking it year-by-year ourselves), I feel like what I can say is that most of the common fears I felt and I hear from others are truly unfounded.

If you are concerned that you can’t do it because you weren’t a stellar student yourself, don’t worry. Although I used to doubt my abilities as well, it now drives me a little bit crazy when I see comments from other moms about how they “could never teach him at home – he’s too smart” or “could never do the math thing because she’d never learn anything”. The fact is that – in most cases – you totally can. The resources that exist are overwhelmingly helpful and encouraging, and the curricula available so sophisticated and user-friendly that it is not nearly as difficult as you may be imagining. Plus, with the more concentrated attention and personalized education that homeschooling allows, you can let your kids blaze ahead in areas where they’re ready to take new steps and spend extra time on those where they’re struggling. And like I said – if I can do Math, you can too. I promise. (Maya may actually do third grade math online next year!)

If you fear that you’ll never have time for yourself ever again, that’s all relative. Yes, one challenging aspect of homeschooling for me has been less potential time to focus on my own hobbies. But I’ve made enough adjustments that it’s become nearly a non-issue. Getting up early, continuing a mandatory afternoon rest time for both kids, and organizing occasional kid-swaps with other moms have all helped me carve out that down time. And since our actual “school stuff” is done so early each day, we have a fair amount of free time where the kids can play while I work on household chores or try out new recipes. Caring for an infant or toddler was far more consuming of my life than my role as a homeschooling mom of older kids.

And the silly little fear I’d had about what will people think and the whole “weird homeschoolers” stigma … well that one fizzled almost immediately. I’ve been asked exactly once all year – by a friendly cashier at the grocery store – about why Maya was out of school. And my answer that she was homeschooled was met with zero negativity. I also frequently marvel at the number of homeschooling families I run into at the store or the library or any/everywhere. It’s fantastic. And I definitely know now more than ever that there is no such thing as a homeschooling “type”.

I guess what I’m saying is, if you’re at all interested in pursuing this idea for your family, don’t be too scared by this stuff. Yes, there are drawbacks. But there are so many benefits as well.

As I write this, I’m so thankful for the blessing that this school year has been in our lives, and I’m looking forward to the next one – with a few extra nerves, as we’ll be adding a kindergartner to the mix!

Who would've thought?

Image credit: Flickr

Oh! Hi.

noreply@blogger.com (Laura) — Tue, 19 Mar 2013 16:24:00 +0000

There are a few reasons why it's been so long.

Most of them are just tiny excuses, a small portion of the overall scope.

The main reason? Fear of my own voice.

I'll explain later, but I'm ready to dust this place off again and face that fear head-on.

Or - more accurately - peek at it through my fingers.

Whatever. It's a start.

Image credit: Flickr

Spirit-Led Parenting - A Second Blog Tour!

noreply@blogger.com (Laura) — Wed, 28 Nov 2012 12:32:00 +0000

To say that Megan and I have been overwhelmed by the support of our book since it's release in April would be an understatement of ridiculous proportions. The incredible response, the reviews that cause us to smile through grateful tears, the new friendships formed with people who've sent lovely e-mails or commented in blog discussions ... it's all just been staggering and humbling and thrilling.

We've kicked off another blog tour this week, featuring posts and discussions related to each chapter theme in Spirit-Led Parenting. It is truly an honor for us to be allowed into the spaces of these gifted writers to share more of the message God planted in our hearts to grow into this book.

Bohemian Bowmans - Monday, November 26th
O My Family - Tuesday, November 27th
Just Wondering - Wednesday, November 28th
Narrow Paths to Higher Places - Thursday, November 29th
life. edited. - Friday, November 30th
In a Mirror Dimly - Saturday, December 1st
Alise .... Write! - Monday, December 3rd
The Mommyhood Memos - Tuesday, December 4th
Dulce La Leche - Wednesday, December 5th
Grace for Moms - Thursday, December 6th
Modern Mrs. Darcy - Friday, December 7th

We would love for you to visit these stops on the tour and join in the discussions!

In which we stretch to make the trade.

noreply@blogger.com (Laura) — Tue, 06 Nov 2012 17:07:00 +0000

(photo credit: Angel Smith)

We straggled in on Friday night. Alone or in groups of two, we piled out of vehicles, lugging pillows, board games, and a few infant carriers with little ones strapped inside. Greeted by a door sign crafted by the brilliant mind of one of our own, we stepped into this huge, luxurious house in the middle of the countryside – and stepped out of our roles as teacher, waitress, consultant, transcriptionist, student, instructor, lab technician, nurse, stylist, and (for the most part) Mommy. We walked out of weeks that held meetings and projects, trips to the pediatrician and family crises, dance recitals and piles of diapers. The excitement of a weekend away mingled strong at first with the questions of whether it was really okay to be there when life loomed so large outside the door protected by Jack Black in a cape.

Food came out of nowhere, exploded into abundance, and we piled our plates to gather around tables and laugh off some of that mental heaviness, locking eyes with friends and beginning to breathe deeply.

Beckoned to the living room, some sank into couches and others pulled up bar stools. My eyes traveled the room and counted twenty-three, with more on their way. Twenty-five women who walk life together as family in Him, gathered this weekend from our different lives and circumstances in order to learn to walk more closely.

The door-sign-maker led us in some kick-off frivolity, one of her spiritual gifts. Within a few minutes, we had new mental pictures of one of us as a pageant contestant/flautist, one as an ice-boring synchronized swimmer, and one who would spend a day of invisibility pushing people over. Tears fell for the first time, laughter-induced ones breaking ground.

(photo credit: Angel Smith)

That night we flittered through the house, some pulling out yarn and hooks, others bonding over Telestrations (“Aqua Cats” and “Captain Beardy Man Boobs”? You complete me.), and still others deciding that a sweet three-month-old really needed sparkly blue toenails.

Bedtime stretched until the wee hours for many, voices trickling in from the main floor well past 3:00 AM. Still, the kitchen bustled with activity on Saturday morning, bacon frying and biscuits warmed alongside gravy and jams. We came together again on couches and chairs, and I offered some feeble, scattered thoughts on what it means to feel stretched thin, reading from Isaiah 40 before we sought out secluded spots to be still and know. To let Him lift our eyes to those frayed places into which He wants to speak peace, rest, hope. A few brave souls shared with the group, and still others allowed their carefully-constructed barriers of self-protection to fall away as we broke into small circles to share and laugh and cry and pray and hold each other up.

~~~~

The afternoon offered seemingly endless possibilities. To each her own. Some stayed at home base, luxuriating in baths and naps, uninterrupted time with a book. Others hit the thrift stores, scouting out fun finds in used furniture and potential crafty projects. I piled into a car with three friends and a four-week-old, stopping for burgers before falling so in love with a clothing and jewelry boutique that we spoke gentle parting words to it as we left, assuring our return. Starbucks red cups in hand, we laughed and relaxed on the road back to meet the others. A husband phoned on the way, in a harried moment on his own with four children at Wal-Mart. His wife cooed her sympathy. “Well, we’re not having any fun either.” she fibbed. “That’s right,” I chirped helpfully from the backseat, sipping my peppermint mocha. “This weekend sucks!” (I don’t think he bought it.)

Back at the house, our “simple dinner” of soup and bread turned into another culinary explosion, and I would hold the collective cooking skills of this group up to any other in existence. Stock pots bubbled with sausage and kale, sweet potato and quinoa, ham and cheddar. Fresh-baked cornbread, garlic biscuits and a loaf of rosemary white sat alongside, with taco salads and fruit bowls rounding out the meal. Conversation grew serious around small tables, with musings on heaven, earth, pain, and perspective.

(photo credit: Angel Smith)

~~~~

We were called back to the living room, and pulled up couches and chairs once more, circling the spot where she sat in front of the cobblestone fireplace. This woman, with her sparkling blue eyes and infectious laugh, she has walked an unimaginable road in recent years. And yet, God? He lit a fire under her for this evening to focus on the good. Because He is good. Her burden for the evening was to encourage us as one who has been there and come out on the other side, all and only because of Jesus.

Her gaze locked suddenly on a young mother of three, whose days are often long and harried. “You … I know it’s hard, but Honey, you can do this. You’ve got this. He’s got this!” Around the room, tears welled and started to spill over. Her eyes flashed and her words took on new intensity, body trembling with truth she could hardly contain. Another sister in her sights, she zeroed in again. “Woman, you amaze me. Your story … your faithfulness … “ Voice breaking, she couldn’t continue for a moment, and more walls crumbled.

She was a woman on an unrehearsed mission, and momentum built as she spoke directly to every person in the room. Something broke wide open in this time and space, full-out saturated with the Holy Spirit. And I marveled at the miracle. If anyone had an excuse to wallow, to throw up her hands … and yet here she was, a glimpse of God’s healing and grace so beautiful it caught my breath, pouring encouragement into each of us until we could scarcely hold any more, calling out a rallying cry to press on and reach up for the trade He offers.

… a crown of beauty instead of ashes, the oil of gladness instead of mourning, and a garment of praise instead of a spirit of despair … (Isaiah 61:3)

She sang a few bars, and we passed tissues around. This makeshift gathering area wedged between windows and pool table had become holy ground this weekend. Each one of these women my family, as we resolved to be one another’s cheering sections through life, to have each other’s backs and to speak the hard stuff – yes – but to also speak this stuff. The I-see-Christ-in-you stuff. The you-can-do-this-because-He-is-bigger stuff.

~~~~

The rest of the night held its share of crazy. The random 11:00 PM exercise class followed by free dance, the epic trying on of handmade hats, the spontaneous midnight rendition of Bohemian Rhapsody with brilliant piano accompaniment. Some trickled out towards home and waiting babies. Others fell into bed far too late again.

In the damp, cold morning hours, we packed our cars and left for coffee and pastries. Other than the brief glitch where several of us were almost killed on the highway by a clearly drunk man behind the wheel of a swerving Cadillac Escalade, we enjoyed a peaceful breakfast before joining our families and our church family for worship.

~~~~

Women, we're so often wounded by one another. We compare and despair and we are our own worst critics. We flash back to school days and mean girls and the scars linger. We wonder if it's truly safe to trust. Sacred days like these, spent together removed from the ins-and-outs of life and work and responsibilities, are reminders that we are all longing. We are so much the same, and all we really want is to learn to make the trade. To leave those ashy heaps of hurts and see the beauty that He sees - that we see so much more easily in each other than in ourselves.

I don't know that it will come easily from this point on. What I do know is that these women will speak to me the beauty when I can't see it. They have my back. And my heart, too.

31 and Done

noreply@blogger.com (Laura) — Thu, 01 Nov 2012 01:27:00 +0000

Image credit: Flickr

On October 1st, I slapped up a post on a whim, announcing that I'd decided to just write something every day for the entire month. I suspected I'd be sorry I took on the challenge, and I'll be honest - I've been looking forward to the 31st. A lot.

I don't really know if I accomplished my goal of really writing every day. Some days it felt more like I was just reaching to get anything at all entered into this space in order to hit "Publish" before midnight. But I think what October did for me was to prove that I can write more frequently than I do. I really do want to. And I learned that I'll survive if I post something that isn't even close to meeting the overly-harsh judgment that I reserve only for myself. That was really good for me.

Now I'm done, and I'm glad. But I hope the little lessons and habits developed during this month will stick. I'd like to be a little more fearless. And I have some ideas for what that could look like. Will I venture there?

Time will tell.

The Halloween Conundrum

noreply@blogger.com (Laura) — Wed, 31 Oct 2012 01:48:00 +0000

Image credit: Flickr

Every year on Facebook I see a couple of things in the last week of October: I see lots of pictures of cute kids in costume off to trick-or-treating, and I see status updates in shocked disbelief that some Christians dress their kids in cute costumes and take them out trick-or-treating.

I get it. I do. This is a controversial thing in the evangelical world. I have friends who love Jesus and love Halloween, and friends who follow Christ and can’t stand anything to do with October 31^st festivities. It’s something we’ve discussed and worked through in our home too. And while I’m not interested in the least in opening up a debate, this is where I come out on Halloween at this point:

The origin seems somewhat muddled to me, with different sources giving varied histories and credit to several people groups for everything from the time of year in which Halloween is celebrated, to the customs of pumpkin-carving and gathering candy from neighborhood homes. Most everyone agrees that some form of Halloween has pagan roots, and that over the centuries, both Christians and groups that deal in the occult have each snagged parts of the celebrations to meld with their customs and make it their own thing.
It would be pretty hypocritical of me to avoid Halloween based simply on its roots in paganism. To that end, I would also need to avoid the use of most Christmas décor (and cease celebrating it on the 25^th of December), come up with alternate months of the year to make up my calendar, and refuse to attend churches that place their clergy person behind a pulpit.
Focusing just on Halloween, if I were to avoid it altogether, what all does that mean? Just no trick-or-treating? No pumpkins on the porch? No pumpkins that are carved? Can they be painted? Can I buy candy in the month of October? What about when it’s 75% off? Can my children play dress up? Can they just not dress up on October 31^st? Is the church down the street that’s having a “Fun Fest” on the same night with costumes and candy “observing” Halloween? Or are they not, because it’s held at a church and called something different? Where’s the line? (I’m not being a bit sarcastic … these are seriously the questions I start to ask when I go down that road.)
I believe that spiritual battles exist, and that we are to be wise and discerning. We talk about this with our kids. Just the other day Maya turned off a My Little Pony episode because it contained a lot of talk about spirits in a way that she knew I wouldn’t be comfortable with, and didn’t feel right to her either. We definitely don’t brush these things aside.
I know and understand that there are people who use Halloween as a day to engage in some seriously dark spiritual practices.
I also know and understand that for most who participate in modern-day Halloween events, the intent and focus is fun and family.
I believe my God redeems, that the earth is His and everything in it, and that He looks at the heart.

And you know what? Even for those who’d agree with every single point I just made, we could end up at completely different places as far as how we do (or don’t do) Halloween. I’m okay with that.

Here’s what we do: We carve pumpkins, but we don’t do Halloween décor. Our kids can dress up as something cute/nice, and we will take our Disney princess and Buzz Lightyear to the Trick or Treat Main Street put on by the downtown businesses on Wednesday afternoon. We don’t do scary, creepy, bloody, monsters, witches, etc. We don’t do evening trick-or-treating either. The Main Street thing has a broad daylight, family/community feel, with primarily very young kids dressed as princesses or ponies and walking from the coffee shop to the bookstore to have a piece of candy dropped in their bucket. It’s nice, and it feels to us like a way to stay within our own comfort levels with the holiday.

I don’t claim for one single second to know what the over-arching “right” answer is on this. I love my friends who go all-out for Halloween, and those who firmly avoid it. To me, this is just another one of those complicated areas where grace and respect are due as we all do our best to sort it through and follow God’s lead.

Perspective

noreply@blogger.com (Laura) — Tue, 30 Oct 2012 03:31:00 +0000

I've started a few posts today, but can't get images like this out of my mind.

Praying for my friends (and families of friends) in the path of the storm.

This Weekend

noreply@blogger.com (Laura) — Mon, 29 Oct 2012 01:50:00 +0000

This weekend we celebrated. Cheered a birthday in the family (he's internet-private, but I'll give you a hint ... I'm married to him), and welcomed a friend and mentor back from being gone too long on a journey of a lifetime.

This weekend we worshiped. I felt for chords on an old piano keyboard, gathered with other imperfect musicians, practicing not-quite-enough but giving what we had. My daughter bent and swayed, lifted hands and sashes high above her head, dancing with a group of other precious girls; they moved the crowd to tears.

This weekend we feasted. On tacos and pizza and fantastic barbecue. On flan and French toast, popcorn and donuts. We sipped coffee with family and brunched with friends in comfortable floor-circles in the church lobby.

This weekend we lingered. Walked the aisles of a toy store just for fun, read chapters from stacks of books, and pulled out board games.

This weekend we prayed. Sat in a circle with teammates and friends, laughing out loud and wrestling through decisions, blanketing it all over with prayers both fervent and hushed, silent and spoken.

And this weekend, Noah prayed at bedtime,

"Thank you, God, that I got to hold a baby bunny today."

Saturday Links 10/27/12

noreply@blogger.com (Laura) — Sun, 28 Oct 2012 02:30:00 +0000

Image credit: FreeDigitalPhotos.net

Happy Weekend! Here are a few fun finds from my week ...

Incredible work in photography.

National Geographic Photo Contest 2012

Sally Clarkson offers beautiful perspective on the fleeting days of raising children.

Embracing Serving Our Children, Because Time Goes Quickly

I was going to embed this clip, but didn't want to accidentally spoil the moment for anyone who hasn't watched yet ... but OH MY GOSH, Parks and Recreation this week!

Parks and Rec awesomeness

This recipe is fantastic. I serve it with roasted root vegetables (carrots, parsnips, turnips, etc. cubed and tossed in olive oil and kosher salt).

Pretzel-Crusted Chicken with Mixed Greens

This article made me giggle.

How Happy are Clams?

This is my brain on empty.

noreply@blogger.com (Laura) — Sat, 27 Oct 2012 02:13:00 +0000

It's Day 26 of this 31-day experiment, and after an overwhelming week, I'm feeling nearly out of things to say. A few random thoughts to offer on this Friday evening:

Why have we not watched Deadliest Catch before now? We are completely engrossed. Also? I am thankful that Mark just works with computers. And also? I am now hungry for snow crab.

Yesterday it was almost 80 degrees, and this weekend it might snow. That's about all I have to say about that.

ATTENTION PLEASE: I did something crafty and it ended well! Bought a big, plain men's T-shirt at Target and used this tutorial to turn it into a scarf. It took me, like, 20 minutes and turned out very cute. Plus, it required no sewing and the only tool I used was a scissors. Very Laura-friendly.

Apparently the "Angry Whopper" is back at Burger King. I always shudder when I drive past that sign, because I don't enjoy the thought of eating something that sounds like it's mad at me.

Is the election over yet? No? *sigh*

Whenever I ask Noah what flavor he'd like his birthday cake to be, he tells me "bunny". I realize he means he wants a bunny-shaped cake, but it's still slightly disturbing.

Mark's birthday is this weekend, and we have two family gatherings to celebrate the event. I'm making dessert for both, and he requested flan ... and flan. So, double-flan weekend it is.

My brain is done thinking now.

Good night!

A Few New Favorites

noreply@blogger.com (Laura) — Fri, 26 Oct 2012 00:50:00 +0000

As a general rule, I don't do home sales parties. Don't host them, don't attend them. The rare exception being a Pampered Chef event, because the kitchen gadgets get me every time. But recently it seemed I couldn't go anywhere without hearing people rave about something called Norwex. Finally, two friends whose opinions I trust (and who I know have similar aversions to sales parties) both cornered me and basically said, "No, really. You have to see this stuff."

The concept drew me in. Cleaning cloths and supplies that could get your house sparkly using just water? Since we'd watched a documentary about the horrific contents of most cleaning products found on the store shelves, I'd stopped buying them altogether, so the Norwex pitch was extremely intriguing.

I agreed to go to a party. I bought things. And I'm not one bit sorry. The first afternoon that I cleaned our bathroom sinks, counters and mirrors with the microfiber cloth and polishing cloth, I pounced on Mark when he got home from work, dragging him around the house shrieking, "Look at this! I did this with just water! JUST WATER!" I'm using the dryer balls and not buying fabric softener anymore. I bought the magnet ball that goes in our dishwasher and am now using about half the detergent I once did, and only have to use a supplemental rinse agent (we have hard water) about every ten times I run it, rather than every single load.

Basically, I'm hooked. Norwex = yes, please.

* * * * *

We have succumbed to Keurig.

It feels a little bit like we're cheating on our French press. We loooooooove our French press. And still believe that it makes the best cup of coffee we've had here at home. But I'll admit, we also love the Keurig. It's fast, it's easy, it makes the exact right amount every time, and it makes decent coffee. We're still sorting through K-cup varieties, as there are some that have been disappointing. But there are some we like a lot, and we bought the re-usable filter thing so we'll be using that a lot with our own coffee anyway.

* * * * *

I bought this today and hung it up right away. We love Chicago so much, and just reading the names of some of our favorite spots in the city makes me smile.

To Race and Rest

noreply@blogger.com (Laura) — Wed, 24 Oct 2012 20:00:00 +0000

Everything is a race to him.

He's four years old, so he's non-stop motion and lives to be the first to cross whatever finish line can be invented. I've grown accustomed to his little arm instinctively thrown to the side as we walk down flights of stairs, blocking whoever would dare to take them faster. To giving in and sprinting down city sidewalks, because I love to hear those belly laughs. I've run more in the past few months just playing with him than I have in all the years since my high school track and field days.

Today the weather time-traveled back to summer and we threw open the windows to drink it in before it's gone. It was a piano lesson day for my girl, and while she sat happily at the bench with her teacher, my little racer and I went for a walk.

"Let's do three things, Mommy! Only three."

"Sure. Which three?"

"Let's do some looking at leaves, and some running around, and let's lay down in the grass."

Okay, then.

The leaves were everywhere, raining red and orange and crunching yellow under our feet. Every so often, he'd point out a finish line at a tree or bench, count down the start, and we'd take off.

Laughing and out of breath, we came to a grassy spot and sprawled out side by side. His feet rested on my propped-up knees and his head rested in the crook of my arm, fingers (as always) twirling through that mop of blond hair. A lazy breeze picked up a leaf or two, everything else as still as the brilliantly blue sky. In the middle of a harried day, the only soundtrack to this moment was the low hum of a distant lawnmower. The "pause" button ... where is it?

A little head popped up then, his face inches from mine.

"Mommy?"

"Yes, Noah?"

"Let's get up and race again"

Like watching paint dry.

noreply@blogger.com (Laura) — Wed, 24 Oct 2012 01:18:00 +0000

Image credit: Flickr

Well, I was going to post something deep and reflective today.

But then I painted our kitchen.

If you're wondering why I'd even bothered planning to write something deep and reflective on a day that I knew I was going to paint the kitchen, it's because I didn't know I was going to paint the kitchen until I woke up today, looked at the kitchen that I've been wanting to paint for about five years now, and suddenly decided that today was the day.

So the kids and I traveled to the lumber-scented land of Lowe's this morning after music class. I perused paint samples while they brought me every brush in the store one by one, asking "Do we need to buy this one, Mommy?" It was special.

We made our paint selection, grabbed a couple of brushes, trays, and rolls of tape and went up to pay. In my head, I'd honestly thought I'd probably be able to paint the kitchen for about $30.

Well. HA HA HA HA HA HA HA HA!

So, now I knew I was really going to have to get this room painted today, since I hadn't exactly told Mark I was planning to do it, and now we had actually purchased paint. I only kept my intentions secret because I know him well enough to be certain that it would stress him out far less if I would just pick a color and get it all done and put together before he had time to dread the project.

And I did. I didn't sit down all day, but the kitchen has two new coats of paint and everything was back on the countertops and up on the walls (just barely) before Mark walked in the door this evening. I'm happy, he's happy, the kitchen is a lovely bluish-gray, and I'm going to crash on the couch now amid some lightly lingering paint fumes.

And then I saw myself as an old man.

noreply@blogger.com (Laura) — Tue, 23 Oct 2012 01:26:00 +0000

Yeah, you read that right.

Image courtesy of FreeDigitalPhotos.net

A few weeks back Mark announced that it would soon be time to switch the operating system on our computers to Windows 8. And as with any time I learn of a new technology update, I threw a small tantrum. Every single time he installs updates or new software on my laptop, something weird happens. He denies this, but he works in IT and I'm pretty sure they're obligated to deny stuff like that.

The real problem, though, is that I like what I know. My computer needs are simple: I want to log in and see my familiar icons, click them to maneuver around in the exact way I'm used to maneuvering, and do the very same thing the next day. REPEAT FOREVER.

Mark delights in teasing me about upcoming shake-ups to my techno-status-quo. Part of it is to gently acclimate me to the idea that a change is inevitable, and part of it is because he sort of likes to see me flip out.

Him: "Did you know that in Windows 8, the desktop isn't the same?"

Me: "I don't want it."

Him: "Actually, there's no Start menu on the desktop."

Me: "I DON'T WANT IT!"

Earlier today, our friend Justin posted something on my wall, and my near future passed before my eyes.

This will be me.

Want to know the worst part? After I watched this with Mark tonight, I asked him, "So, seriously ... how do you get back to the first screen after you open something?"

He won't tell me. Apparently "that's part of the fun".

I DON'T WANT IT.

Sock Missiles and the Boring Game

noreply@blogger.com (Laura) — Mon, 22 Oct 2012 01:30:00 +0000

Image credit: Flickr

I recently started teaching Sunday School for the upper-elementary age kids. That age group is totally up my alley, plus these kids are so much fun! And speaking of fun, this morning as part of our lesson, they got to hurl balled-up socks as I ran through the room trying to dodge them. (Temptations being thrown, you see.)

When they dawdled through copying a list of the first few books of the Old Testament, I casually mentioned that they might want to pick up the pace, folks, because in our activity afterward they were going to get to throw things at me.

(Commence super-speed writing.)

Sample reaction of elementary-age girl: "Really? Because at my school if we threw something at the teacher we'd probably get sent to detention ..."

Sample reaction of elementary-age boy: "Awesome! How hard can we throw?"

Let's just say I was thankful our classroom is on a different floor than the others, as I dashed and squealed repeatedly through the room being pelted with fleece missiles thrown by cheering children with surprisingly accurate aim.

Then I held up a bedsheet, telling the kids that it represented the Word of God. (One girl: "How is an old sheet supposed to be the Word of God?" Me: "Um ... maybe you didn't see the clothespin-fastened sign here that says 'Word of God'.") The sheet deftly deflected the socks as I placed it between me and the barrage of ammunition on the way across the room.

I wondered if the lesson would really land. But later, all the kids wanted a turn to be the temptation-dodger and they were each getting mercilessly nailed with socks until one smart 4th-grader grabbed the sheet and threw it over her head as we were counting down.

"OH MAN!", one of the boys complained. "She's using the Word of God! We can't hit her as well!"

I may or may not have jumped up and down at that point and yelled, "EXACTLY!"

(We were all a little wound up.)

* * * *

Meanwhile, Mark was in charge of the younger children downstairs. One little boy was in a mischievous mood and kept requesting to do things that were "boring". ("I want to sing a boring song." "I want to read a boring story." You get the picture.) Well, Mark can be mischievous too, and finally asked, "Do you want to play a boring game?" Surprised, the boy answered yes, so Mark sat a chair facing the wall and told him that the boring game was played by sitting and staring at the wall without moving.

Well, not to be left out of anything called a game, the other children protested that they weren't getting to play too. So Mark let them all play the "boring game". This is the picture he posted to our church's Facebook page this afternoon.

The kids are excited to play the boring game again next week.

So, that would be Mark for the win.

Saturday Link List 10/20/12

noreply@blogger.com (Laura) — Sat, 20 Oct 2012 13:07:00 +0000

LOVE. Dads sing "Part of Your World from The Little Mermaid.

HA! Christmas is coming soon enough. We'd all better brush up on our carol lyrics ...

HOORAY for the new Golden Globes hosts!

Tina Fey and Amy Poehler to host the Golden Globes

BOOM. Jen Hatmaker weighs in on the election as a Christian, pro-life Independent. I am grateful, and I applaud her bravery. One commenter told her that by not aligning with a party, she was sitting on the fence with the devil. (For real.)

As children of God, we should be unthreatened by secular power. The Law was never able to bring redemption, and it is still insufficient to make all things new. The healing and hope and goodness we long for is realized fully in Jesus, extended through His people despite hardship or distance or the passage of time or the changing of guards. No political party can see it through or take it away. It was finished on the cross, and the discussion is over.

The Election: Thoughts from a Christian Independent

YUM. These are baking up for breakfast right now. I predict much rejoicing.

Pumpkin Cinnamon Rolls with Caramel Frosting

Another frivolous "Pick Five" list game!

noreply@blogger.com (Laura) — Fri, 19 Oct 2012 15:46:00 +0000

A few months back, I threw out a random question: If you could only eat five foods for the rest of your life, what would you choose?

These are things I actually think about. Consider sending help.

Anyway, in the same vein, I have a new just curious inquiry to pose. Play along again?

If you could only watch five television shows for the rest of your life, what would you choose?

As before, there are some guidelines to note:

- First of all, this is not a desert island-type situation. You can go about your normal life, but these five shows would be all you would ever see on any TV screen. Go to a friend's house? Nope, only these five. Check in to a hotel? Sorry, the room will only play the ones on your list.

- I had a hard time deciding whether movies would be permissible in this completely fictional scenario. I'm going to go with no. But another week we'll do a movie list.

- Yes, I realize my rules are completely arbitrary.

Here are mine!

1. Friends

My favorite of all time. Plus, there are 10 seasons, and even though I have nearly every episode memorized, I could easily watch them all many times over.

2. Scrubs

I'm choosing Scrubs, because not only is it one we've watched through many times around here, but there are plenty of poignant moments to balance out the general hilarity. (The very last scene of Season 8, where J.D. walks through the halls of Sacred Heart one last time? Maybe one of my favorite television moments ever.

3. Gilmore Girls

I'm new to this one, but I already know it deserves a place on my list. Between the quirky small-town characters, complex relationships, and Amy Sherman-Palladino's incredible scripts, I know this is a series I could revisit often.

4. Survivor

I'm not exactly sure why, but whatever. With 25 seasons now, even the few that I would like to strike from existence would leave plenty of enjoyable viewing. I know some people lament the premise of a show where lying and manipulation are tools to secure a million-dollar prize. But I think long-time fans of the show recognize that the outside-the-game aspects of throwing strangers together to use teamwork and build relationship in order to survive has some incredibly redemptive elements that outweigh the back-biting. Relationships are formed that become more important than "winning", character is revealed through moral dilemmas, and - more often than you think - the most dishonest, manipulative players do not, in fact, end up with the check in the end.

5. You guys. I lose at my own game.

A ridiculous amount of thought later, I simply cannot pick. Do I go with the feel-good nostalgia of The Cosby Show or The Dick van Dyke Show? Pick something from the Food Network? An all-time favorite drama like Lost or ER? A total cop-out like Today or Good Morning America so there would be a new episode every single day? Arrested Development, which is BRILLIANT, but only lasted a tragically-short three seasons? Something current that I enjoy, but might not love so much in the future?

I give up.

You go now!

Just because it's been awhile.

noreply@blogger.com (Laura) — Thu, 18 Oct 2012 12:03:00 +0000

A year ago at this time, Megan and I were up to our ears in e-mails, Skype chats, chapter outlines, first drafts, research notes, and deadlines. We were taking temporary breaks from other commitments to focus more closely on this project, and praying fervently over every step in the process - that God would be in it and over it and have His way.

Just over six months ago, our book was released by Civitas Press, leaving the confines of our computer screens and throwing open our hearts to anyone who cared to read. It was both thrilling and terrifying, the latter eased by tremendous encouragement and cheerleading from others. Friends and family who believed in us, fellow moms who believed in the message of our book, writers and bloggers who welcomed us into their spaces; sharing our words and writing reviews themselves that left us awestruck. Sally Clarkson writing our Foreword. I mean COME ON.

We talked and wrote and linked about this book so much in the first month or two after it's release that I think we reached our own limit of saturation with it all. Megan and I are perhaps the world's worst self-promoters, so we're often a little reluctant to go there, as evidenced by our near-silence on all things Spirit-Led Parenting in the past few months.

The truth is that this book has had a measurable "success" that has exceeded our expectations. But far far FAR more important and impacting to us than any sales numbers or screen shots of our book enjoying a moment on bestseller lists has been the response that was the very reason we wrote the book in the first place. The e-mails from complete strangers, moving us to tears with their words of gratitude and how God has used our stories to bring freedom in their own lives. The woman whose name I don't even know who stopped me on my way to the sink in a public restroom to say, "I read your book. And it gave me hope and peace. I want to thank you." I would have hugged her but I hadn't washed my hands yet.

Those are the reasons that - as Megan and I spoke about over Skype last week - we know we should ... you know ... mention this book sometimes. Because if we believe (as we do) that God wrote this message on our hearts before we put it to page, then we should continue to share it.

So we're making plans for some new ways of introducing Spirit-Led Parenting to new parents and parents-to-be. We're excited to see what God will do, and are still stunned and humbled by what has taken place already.

When Friends Disagree

noreply@blogger.com (Laura) — Wed, 17 Oct 2012 20:16:00 +0000

I'm posting at Grace for Moms today on friendships that bridge differences. Join me there?

We live in an age where a simple Facebook status update can launch a firestorm. Where the comment section of a blog post – even one not expected to be controversial by the writer – can blow up in vitriolic debate. Where relationships are broken with an e-mail rant or a “hide” button because we just can’t see eye-to-eye on this thing or that thing, and so how can we live life together?

Read more at Grace for Moms ...

* * * *

I'm blogging every day this month with all of these brilliant people. It's my ...

Homeschool Newbie, Volume Two

noreply@blogger.com (Laura) — Tue, 16 Oct 2012 11:12:00 +0000

Image credit: Flickr

It’s been nearly two months since my last post about our first year of homeschooling. Back then I was all, “Oh wow, I can’t believe how much I like it!”, which seemed a little bit eye-roll worthy even to me, since we were all of one week in.

We’re on fall break this week, but will begin Week 10 of our 36-week school year next Monday. More than a quarter of the way to the finish line!

Do you know what? I still can’t believe how much I like it.

We’ve fallen into a comfortable routine now, so here’s an idea of what a typical homeschool day looks like for us:

I’ve learned that starting with math is best, since it’s Maya’s least favorite subject, and the whole day flows better if she can just knock that one out early. We’re doing a lot of pre-multiplication stuff at this point, along with larger-scale addition and subtraction. (Math is not my favorite either, so I'm very glad to have a workbook that comes with a pretty detailed guide!)

After she’s finished with math, we usually move on to language arts. Indiana’s core standards are extremely LA heavy, so we concentrate a lot on those concepts too, in order to stay on track. Although Maya is in second grade, we’re using a third-grade LA curriculum and there are still things I’m adding in order to cover everything in the second grade common core. We’re doing a lot with parts of speech, so it’s a fairly common occurrence these days for me to quiz her while we’re driving. “Wow, look at those beautiful leaves falling gracefully from the tree branches! Hey Maya – what was the adverb in that sentence? Adjective? Prepositional phrase?” (She’s probably going to get annoyed with that soon.)

Our favorite part of school is when we can snuggle up together on the couch to do her daily Bible reading, scripture memory verse(s), and devotional. A lot of really cool questions come up during this time. “Mommy, why did God have to have a ‘chosen people’? Doesn’t He love everyone?” “If Jesus hadn’t died on the cross, would God still forgive us for our sins?” The big questions can be intimidating, but I love that she's thinking so deeply.

Then we open up her read-aloud book, currently Owls in the Family by Farley Mowat on Monday-Thursday, and Mrs. Piggle-Wiggle by Betty MacDonald on Friday. Both of those are really fun. Maya also takes a chapter from her own reader, which is one of the Third-Grade Detectives books right now.

In our history lessons, we’ve started through early civilizations, and have been in ancient Egypt now for a week or two. Thankfully, she and I are both fascinated by history, so we both enjoy delving deep into cultures and events.

Three days a week in science, we’re studying animal species on each continent. Then on Thursdays we do some experiments, and Friday a study on how things are made.

For spelling, I use the 10 words offered by our curriculum, but add five more from the second-grade high-frequency word list used by our school system. We practice them every day of the week, with a goal of having them mastered by Friday.

I also have her do some creative writing a few days each week, sometimes giving her a subject or goal (include a sentence using alliteration or a homophone), and other time just letting her make up her own assignment.

I’ve become more comfortable with mixing things up and staying flexible with the way we work school into our days. While we generally have a good chunk of time to devote to school, we’re also often doing spelling in the van while running errands, or fitting science into the afternoon if we’re running short on time in the morning with other activities. We have a homeschool group of other families from church that meets one morning a week, and Maya and I almost always do “field trip morning” at some point too, where we load up our books and papers and head to the coffee shop to do school on location.

I definitely know that one likely reason this is going so well is that Maya’s personality fits so well with this type of format. So although there are the requisite groans about school and some whining regarding math, she does enjoy what we’re doing, which helps tremendously.

Yes, there are definitely evenings where I’m not as excited about pulling out the next day’s study books, and days when I think about how much I could get done if she were in school all day. But for the most part, this experiment continues to surprise all of us in a really great way!

* * * *

I'm blogging every day this month with all of these brilliant people. It's my ...

Halfway-ish

noreply@blogger.com (Laura) — Mon, 15 Oct 2012 10:41:00 +0000

Image credit: Flickr

Whew! So, it’s day 15 of this 31 days madness. And here’s a status update of sorts:

- I’m a little sick of hearing myself talk.

- I panic daily about my next post topic because oh my gosh, I have nothing!

- But then something always comes just in time.

- This has been a very good discipline for me.

- I don’t always enjoy discipline.

- I’ve been forced to let go of (some of) my perfectionism, and that is a huge deal.

- I’m watching a “How It’s Made” about potato chips, and can’t take my eyes off the screen. They just had a salt shower.

- Sorry, where was I?

- Sometimes I start to whine about how writing every day for a month is harder than I thought. Then I remember that my pastor just spent 30 days walking 500 miles through northern Spain (finishing yesterday) and I tell myself to get a grip.

- I’ve been so grateful for the supportive comments and encouragement to keep going. Thank you!

* * * *

I'm blogging every day this month with all of these brilliant people. It's my ...

Seven Days Each Week

noreply@blogger.com (Laura) — Sun, 14 Oct 2012 20:26:00 +0000

Image credit: Flickr

On weekdays, I’m up at 6:00 (-ish). Gearing up for the day, bleary-eyed and coffee in hand. I kiss Mark goodbye and he’s off to work in the dark before the kids stir.

They wake and straggle out to the living room, stuffed animal tucked under an arm, and snuggle up for a morning hug. I quickly try to finish whatever project is on the screen in my lap.

Breakfast is made, cereal poured into bowls, toaster loaded and eggs cracked quickly over a frying pan. They eat and I’m continuing to tinker at the laptop or I’m unloading the dishwasher to fill it again. There’s laundry calling out for the washer, and I should probably push the dryer button again to touch-up the quickly-wrinkling load from yesterday.

I answer an e-mail and post a few Facebook comments. Hit “Publish” on a blog post that I’m not quite happy with, but it’s time anyway.

We get dressed and ready for the morning, beds made and teeth brushed. I realize I haven’t actually eaten anything yet, and make a note to grab something later. It’s time to get Noah to preschool, or maybe all of us to music class or homeschool group.

There is schoolwork to do and errands to run. Home for lunch and the oasis of afternoon rest times. Then there may be dance class or piano lessons. Dinner to prep and that laundry should really get folded now.

Mark arrives home and the kids come running. We sit down to dinner and it’s nearly dark again. Board games and bath times, then bed for them and we crash on the couch with work stuff and Netflix.

* * * *

On weekends, no alarms are set. Mark is home, and we all yawn awake and meet in the living room whenever it happens. iPhones, iPods, and iPads are out and everyone is snuggled up with apps and blankets playing games together, this moment brought to you by Apple.

I make my way to the kitchen with a new recipe or an old favorite, and soon the house smells like maple and bacon, pumpkin and cinnamon, vanilla and apples. It’s 9:30 before breakfast is on the table, but nobody minds. Kids are laughing with syrup-covered faces.

There are detours on the way to getting dressed for the day: books, play, projects. At some point we’re all ready to head out for some slow-paced errands (Saturday) or church (Sunday). The afternoons are for more playing, more resting, more tinkering. Saturdays we’ll have dinner out or in with family, Sundays we’re hanging out with our small group or others in our church family. Both evenings we might fudge bedtime a little bit.

* * * *

Joy and thankfulness well up among both the fun, focused, fast-paced days of the week; and the free, fluid, family-time weekends. Each one a gift preparing us for the other.

* * * *

I'm blogging every day this month with all of these brilliant people. It's my ...

Weekend Link List 10/13/12

noreply@blogger.com (Laura) — Sun, 14 Oct 2012 01:55:00 +0000

It's still Saturday, so this post counts! ;) Here are just a few things that caught my eye this week:

As a former marching band-er, this makes me so happy.

I can't pass the General Mills monster cereal display this fall without hearing the 80s commercial jingle in my head.

Two recipes I've come across that are on my VERY SOON list to try:

Chocolate Cream-Filled Vanilla Sugar Doughnuts - Joy the Baker

Cinnamon Apple Muffins - Mel's Kitchen Cafe

Jen Hatmaker, Sarah Bessey, Kristen Howerton, Mary DeMuth, and other incredible people/writers were in Haiti this week with Help One Now. Which made for some incredibly moving insights into a country that is abounding in both despair and hope.

Mopping Haiti (via Jen Hatmaker)

4 Myths about Haiti (via Mary DeMuth)

Happy Weekend!

5 Things I Don't Like, that You Probably Do Like. (Or some other more clever title.)

noreply@blogger.com (Laura) — Fri, 12 Oct 2012 15:18:00 +0000

It's Friday, the sun is shining, and Fall Break looms gloriously on the horizon for next week. What better time, then, to be vulnerable with the internet about my oddities.

Today, it's a list of things that I find either unfavorable or perplexing, even while the majority of planet Earth seems to find them utterly delightful:

Image credit: Flickr

Orange Juice

It's a morning staple for many people, but for some reason I don't enjoy orange juice at all - particularly in the morning. From concentrate or not, pulp or pulp-free ... doesn't matter. And the weirdest thing about this aversion? I love oranges. And grapefruit juice. Strange.

Image credit: Flickr

Vera Bradley merchandise

I don't get it. I'll be the first to admit that I'm no trend expert (don't ask me my views on skinny jeans). But every single time I see a VB bag I think, "Seriously?". It's as if everyone around me is speaking some sort of fashion language that I can't interpret.

Image credit: Flickr

Anne of Green Gables

If you need me, I'm huddled over in the corner with my eyes squeezed tightly shut and arms over my head to brace myself as I add this one to the list.

I don't really love Anne of Green Gables.

I know, I know, I know. I KNOW. I'm sorry, and clearly I'm way out here on my own in this opinion. Also, I should note that it's been years since I've picked up the books or watched the movies. And that as Anne gets older, I tend to follow her story with more interest. It's hard to pin down exactly what the issue is, but for some reason (please don't scream ... remember that this post is about things that admittedly make me very strange) I find the series a little bit ... depressing? (eeeeeek!)

Don't worry, I will introduce my daughter to Anne and her adventures in a few years. And who knows ... maybe I'll have a total change of heart as I read and view these stories through the lens of my current point in life.

(Once again, I'm sorry. The rest of you are probably totally right on this one!)

Image credit: Flickr

Scrapbooking

I have so much admiration for moms with rows of scrapbooks for their kids, and I know those kids are going to grow up to appreciate those beautiful records of their lives so, so much. My children will not be among those fortunate ones, however. I've (sort of) tried my hand at this, but with a severe lack of artistic ability and also a major streak of impatience, it's a lost cause. My talented friends attend day-long scrapbooking parties and arrive home to announce, "I got 9 pages done today! Hooray!" And all I can think is, "Nine pages in 9 hours? Kill me."

My kids will have albums. With pictures slipped into sleeves. Amen.

Image credit: Flickr

Movie Theaters

There is absolutely nothing that appeals to me about the movie theater experience at this point. (Okay, except for maybe an occasional longing for super-fake-buttery popcorn.) With inventions like DVR and Netflix Streaming, I have no desire to sit in an only-slightly-comfortable seat among lots of strangers in an often freezing room with super-loud speakers and no "pause" button. Not when I could sprawl on the couch with my husband and a blanket, with the freedom to fetch snacks and take bathroom breaks at our leisure.

(And yes, those last couple of sentences made me sound like an 82-year-old. Turn down the volume and fetch me my afghan, Mabel!)

We'll still trudge out to the occasional kids' movie (i.e. Disney films we've seen a billion times but look, now it's in 3-D and digitally remastered!) But beyond that? No thank you.

Okay, so there it is. How about you? Anything you loathe that everyone else loves? Anything I've listed here also on your list? (Please?)