New Year's Resolutions

Every year I think of something to work on for the year.  Last year I wanted to remove some of the clutter in this house.

I did succeed in getting rid of most of the baby clothes and things that just accumulate when a baby/toddler is around.  My baby turned five this year so I thought this appropriate.

I got some boxes out of my bedroom that had not been unpacked since we moved in five years ago.  Found my collection of my favorite books.  This is important to me as I rarely purchase books unless I am at a garage sale. I had decided that if there was a book that made my top ten list I would purchase a hardbound copy.  Funny that I only have three of them now because I still cannot bring myself to get out the money for a book when libraries are so plentiful.  Silly me.

I also tacked the shelves in the basement.  I have the boxes of donate-sell-toss to prove it.  Well not the toss one anymore, but I have not gotten around to the sell part yet.

This year I am going to try two resolutions to make my world a better place and ... well you get the idea.  Here are my thoughts on what I am going to do:

Try to instill some type of gratefulness in my boys.  They have no idea how much they have.  Not just material possession-wise.  But in the fact that their parents are married and in love.  That all grandparents are still married.  That family lives close.  That they have plenty of food on their table.  That their parents can go out an buy any toy they want whenever they desire it (although we rarely do that on a whim).  That there are plenty of adults in their world that love them to pieces and would bend over backwards for them.  These things are invaluable and are a part of who they are, but because they are young and in the egocentric part of their development, my boys have not recognized it yet.  We may even begin to do service projects-like Habitat for Humanity as my hooligans love anything having to do with tools.

Second, and more fun because it has to do with food, we are going to tour the USA through state favorite recipes.  I found a "Best of.." cookbook in my holiday frenzy and the idea was born.  I have a die cut machine and a cartridge of the states that I have already used to cut out a continental USA that is approximately 3 feet by 5 feet.  I am in the process of laminating the states.  We are going to  create notebooks with state info and the boys will help me choose which recipe to use for each state.  I am totally looking forward to this.

Happy new year to all!  Be safe!

The Tree

Finally, our tree is standing in the house.  We put it in it's stand on December 18th.  Wheww-almost missed the deadline.

Part of me wants to keep it up until roughly Valentines day because of all the time decorating a tree takes.  The length of time should be in mathematical proportion to the length of time it took to decorate the tree.  We will see about that one.

DadOfAllTrades had the tree in the garage to melt.  Or at least have the snow from the blizzard that caused us to get the tree so late melt.  He propped it up on the tractor so the water would melt down and the tree wouldn't be sitting in a puddle.  When he went out in the morning, he noticed the tree had fallen over.  No biggie, he thought and tried to right the tree.

Then he noticed that the top two feet were still on the ground.

So, we tried to put the tree up without the top two feet, hoping a large angel would cover the problem.  It actually looked like the angel was in a volcano.

Then we tried to just prop up the top in the branches.  Kinda worked, but it could not hold up the angel and she was listing to one side.

So, I did what any CreativeMama would do.  I used duct tape.  Of course the fullness of the tree (the part that attracted me to it in the first place) caused such fixing to be a mini nightmare.  I tried with long strips.  I tried with short strips. I think I finally have it.  Just don't get near the tree this year or you may have pine needles embedded in your skull when the top springs off again.

Now our tree is up, it is taped, and I have yet to finish the lights and let the boys loose on the ornaments.

Ahh, Christmas.

Trying to find the joy

I am having trouble getting in the Christmas spirit this year.

There, I said it.  Sometimes just putting it in words that come out of your mouth make one feel better.  But I don’t, yet.

December is always busy.  There are gifts to buy.  [Then return because they bought it for themselves; then re-buy, then.. well you get it.]  There are meals to plan and prepare for those you wish to honor in this way.   There are decorations to put up.  A tree to bring in the house and confuse the poor dog.  Kids pageants to attend.  Family members to argue with over who brings the cheesy potatoes to Eve dinner.  Or not.  Forget I mentioned that last one.

The list gets bigger and bigger every year and I just want to crawl under a bigger and bigger blanket every year.  I am not sure why.  There was one year I remember as an adult in which I felt particularly festive.  I remember driving home from work so it was sometime after college, or I was in college on break, and thinking that even the stop lights are red and green.  Wondrous!  But I can’t remember much joy beyond that.
When does this fabulous season get to be so hectic and not festive for a mom?  Shouldn’t I be feeling the joy through my kid’s eyes?  Why don’t I drool at the thought of the special cookies we make?  When did it all become so much?

Maybe it is the moving of my nephew out of the house.  I never thought it would cause me to pause and think of how much I miss taking care of him.  Well, not really as he is 24 years old.  But he did live in the warmth of our house, and ate our food, and received mail here, and even took our advice.  I guess one could say that he was like a son without the hours of back labor.  And he has his first apartment.  I get weepy ever thinking about it, and have refused to think about when my 6 and 5 year olds move out.  Perish the thought.

Maybe it is that we have just got our tree and it is the 17^th of December.  You see, there was this huge blizzard on the day we wanted to get the tree.  Then there was more blizzard the next day.  Plans got scrapped, and we just got around to driving the quarter mile to the “tree house”, as the boys call it.  This wonderful family started a tree business that we could practically walk to, but don’t because it would involve a main street of 55 mph traffic.  They have the nicest Frasier Furs and a really cool wood burning stove.  And, to make it all the more small-townish, their nephew is in Buzz’s kindergarten class.  When we did arrive, we ask if the snow has kept people away because he seems to have quite a few trees left this year (not in those words.  I think DadOfAllTrades did pretty well with eloquence in this occasion, I might add.)  It turns out the PTO of one of the local schools had a tree sale this year.  It was held at a location that was within one mile of three different places that sell trees and have been selling trees for many years.  Then, they had the nerve to arrive on his property and ask if he wanted to buy their leftovers.  I had heard about his sale because I have kids in the schools, but had no interest because we have our “tree house”.  It reduced his sales by 1/3!!!  Bah humbug I say.  Keep the tree sales to the pros and find something else to raise money with.  We already pay enough in taxes to the schools.

Maybe because during the blizzard our 15 year old dog started acting weird.  Like stumbling around.  Like head cocked to one side.  Like walking over to his bed then staring at it like he didn’t know what to do.  I have worked with enough elderly to recognize the symptoms of a stroke when I see it.  DadOfAllTrades was beside himself because our dog is like his firstborn.  This dog was his comfort during the roughest time of his life and is still 2 years old in DadOfAllTrades’ mind.  I honestly think that DadOfAllTrades thought we were going to have to put the dog down.  It was both touching and heartbreaking at the same time.  I have to admit my prayers went something like this: “Please God, let him make it through Christmas because I cannot handle having to comfort my husband and try to crawl out from under my own haze.  Sorry to be selfish, God, but you want us to tell you our fears….”  Let it be known that doggie is doing well.  He will always have a half-cocked head, but at least he is peeing outside now.

Maybe it is the fact that I want to have my own wife during this season.  No, I do not play for both teams.  I just want to have someone who does it all and all I have to do is show up dressed right.  I cannot take full credit for this idea (thank you FB).  How is it that the male persuasion of this world can pay only the bill for the holiday and the female persuasion run themselves ragged for five or so weeks?  How is it that the male can ask “Boy honey, you look tired.  Why?” and be serious that they do not know?

Maybe DadOfAllTrades, who lovingly suggested that we paint the front room before the 24^th, is doing a whole lotta complaining.  It was YOUR idea.   Just saying.

Maybe this will pass.  Maybe not.  But I will have 13 people in my house on the 19^th, and 25 or more on the eve of Christmas and there is not one clean toilet in the house.  I must get a move on and crawl out from under this blanket.  God bless us every one.

It could be...

Well here we are.  A full week has gone by without an update.

I could blame it on the season.

I could blame it on the blizzard.

I could blame it on the fact that our beloved dog had stroke-like symptoms last Sunday and I have been a nervous nellie about him passing.  Which he didn't by the way.

It could be that our tree is still not in the house.  That means it is not even decorated and there are only 7 days until the BIG ONE.

It could be that there was some shopping to finish (not done yet).

It could be that there is a room that DadOfAllTrades stated would be easy to paint now that everything is out of it and it is only half done (not by his fault, more by the fact that he has to bring home the bacon on a daily basis.)

It could be that I took a jiujitsu class on Thursday and I can still barely walk. Seriously.

It could be that there are (all the sudden) going to be nine other persons in the house for dinner tomorrow that we did not plan on having and now there is a huge dinner I must do and shop for.

Or it could be that I am having a semi-good time watching our children hunt for the Elf on the Shelf every morning.

Whatever it is, I am starting to get into the spirit if only by the fact that I must keep moving.

The links have it...

I have to admit, I am tired already this morning thinking about how my life will go today.  Moving all day, potential city stopping blizzard on the way, no idea if we will even have time for dinner.  I got a good night's sleep last night, so I do feel ready for this.  But some other part of me wants to be home on a snowy Saturday and do next to nothing besides build my relationships with my family and wrap Christmas presents.

And then God talked to me this way...
I looked at a friend's blog...
Then I was linked to  this one... (The best name ever, by the way)
Then I found this post," Seeing Past What It Seems".

Now, I am not saying that my business today is in any way on the magnitude of this woman's life.  Her story is both heartbreaking and joyful.  But this post brought me to tears.  Her, and her husbands, ability to work through what had happened to them is beyond any words I can come up with.

Today I am going to take the time to look past the obvious and see past what it seems.  I am going to look into peoples eyes and say "Happy Holidays", and REALLY mean it.  And I am going to try to notice these little signs of struggle AND ask if the people I know need help.

Thank you God for putting it outside of me.

7 Quick Takes

From a website I so understand...Testosterhome.  [She has five male children and a husband.  Then  she had a daughter.  Bless her!]

The concept of 7 quick takes is from Conversationdiary.  On Friday, one blogs about seven quick things, one for every day of the week.  Or in my case, seven random things.

Here I go...

1. Lake effect snow is unpredictable.  There are only a few places in the world that experience this phenomenon.  I happen to live in one of them.  What makes it most entertaining is that some folks seem to think that it is no big deal.  Really?  Three feet of snow on the roads is "no big deal"?  They fly around like it is the Olympic ice driving course and wonder why they end up in the ditch.  The news is actually entertaining during one of these storms.

2. Boys hit.  'nuf said.

3. I will never get all my shopping for Christmas done before Thanksgiving no matter how hard I try.  This year I remembered all the random school gifts but forgot my one SIL and , gasp!, my In Laws.  How did that happen?

4. I love making cookies for the season.  Not the sugar thing, I think it is just the different things one finds in Christmas cookies.  Like cardamom.  And molasses.  Yum.

5. Craig's List will never be successful for me.  I have posted our Little People (rarely used)  a week or so ago and haven't even got one hit.  Sigh.

6. The Waving Santa has truly become an obsession for my son.  He has begun sitting in a chair by a window so that he can stare at it's form in the snow, whether it is inflated or not.  He has begun tying a latex glove to a straw to pretend that it is inflating; including laying on the floor and slowly rising like some kind of yoga move. He has even stated that he wants to be a Waving Santa for Halloween next year.  (I may be good at costumes, but this one is going to take a while to do.)  Once this thing dies or rips, DadOfAllTrades and I may have big trouble on our hands.

7. We do not have a tree to decorate yet.  DadOfAllTrades wants to paint a room, impromptu style, before guests arrive on the 24th, and I have a million presents to wrap.  Ahh, the holidays.

There you go-the first seven things that popped into my head today.  I might make this a habit.  That was fun!

New Favorite Cookie Recipe #2

Without further ado...

Crinkled Molasses Cookies
1 cup sugar
3/4 cup veggie shortening (or butter for you purists, like me)
1/4 cup light molasses
1 egg
2 cups all purpose flour
2 1/2 tsp baking soda
1 tsp ground cinnamon
1 tsp ground ginger
1/2 tsp ground cloves
1/4 tsp ground cardamom
1/4 tsp salt
granulated sugar

Heat oven to 350 degrees F. In large mixing bowl combine 1 cup sugar, shortening, molasses and egg.  Beat at medium speed until well blended.  Add flour through salt. Beat at low speed until soft dough forms.
Shape dough into 1-inch balls.  Roll balls in granulated sugar.  Place 2 inches apart on ungreased cookie sheet.  Bake for 8-12 minutes or until set.  Cool completely before serving.

So, here is my take on these gems:
The flavor is not overpowering as some molasses cookies can be, but it does have that warm, cozy winter taste.
I used butter because I love the taste.  But you don't have to.  Unless you want to be just like me.  Then you would have to leave out to cloves and sub nutmeg, around 3/4 tsp.  'Cuz I don't like cloves other than those floating around in marinades.  Just my tongues opinion.
Don't add the dry stuff all at once or you will have a lot of cleaning to do.  Add it in three parts.

Enjoy!

My favorite cookies 2010 recipe #1

I recently asked another karate mom if she had any cookie recipes she enjoyed making for the holidays.  I have a couple of favorites, but am getting bored.  I do want to teach the boys more cooking, and what better way than with sugar?  Anyway, karatemom brought six cookbooks into the lounge the very next day and pointed out her favorites.  She told me the nuances of each recipe, a couple of which included the spice cardamom.  I had never even heard of it, but she told me it was pricey and that the container she bought years ago is still half full. I won't tell you how many years because she cringed when mentioning it, and I realized I have a large container of pumpkin pie spice that is roughly the same age, so who am I to talk?

**As an aside, why do companies sell spices one needs in quantities less than one teaspoon in containers so big?  Why don't they only sell them small?  Cooks tell us to use fresh spices, then we buy them and can never use them up in the time frame when they are considered "fresh".  So we leave them in our cabinets for years taking one little eighth of a teaspoon each time praying that the flavor is still there because it cost us a weeks pay.  Just saying.**

Back to the lounge at the dojo...  I grabbed a dull pencil and franticly started copying.  In two hours I was able to copy six recipes.  This weekend I was able to make two of those.  And I have to say that karatemom is also the angel of cookies.  She was absolutely right when it comes to cookie recipes.  And cardamom is the scent of heaven!  I am in love with this spice and am hoping that someone, somewhere has put it in a candle or a homemade soap so that I can smell it all day, every day.  If you have heard of such thing, pass on the phone number so that I can order a case.  Until then, enjoy new cookie recipe #1.  I recommend making a double batch 'cuz half of them won't even get the chance to cool.

Browned Butter Cardamom Cookies
1 cup butter
3/4 cup sugar
1 egg yolk
1 tsp vanilla
1/2 tsp ground cardamom (can go up to 3/4 if you love this spice like me)
2 cup all-purpose flour
1 cup powdered sugar

Melt butter in a 2 quart heavy saucepan over medium heat.  Cook, stirring constantly and watching closely until butter just begins to turn golden brown (5-8 minutes).  Immediately remove from heat, pour in bowl and refrigerate until cool (30 minutes).
Heat oven to 350 degrees F. Combine cooled butter and sugar in large bowl;  beat at medium speed until well mixed.  Add egg yolk, vanilla and cardamom.  Continue beating until well mixed.  Reduce speed to low;  beat while gradually adding flour, until mixture is no longer crumbly and forms a dough.
Shape dough into 1-inch balls.  Place one inch apart onto ungreased cookie sheets.  Bake for 10-12 minutes or until cookies puff and just start to turn light golden brown (cookies will have cracks).
Immediately remove from cookie sheets.  Cool one minute.  Roll cookies in powdered sugar while warm and again while cool.  Store between sheets of waxed paper in loosely covered container.

SNOW DAY!

We have been blessed with an extra day of weekend love.  Folks around here call it a snow day-mostly 'cuz it has snowed so fast or so much that the plows cannot keep up.  We are used to it and somewhat prepare for it.  This time, however, I am totally unprepared and so flippin happy about it I can barely contain myself.  Here is why I am excited about having a day totally unplanned, with two grade-schoolers, and nowhere to go.  Not that we could get there if we wanted anyway.

My nephew moved out yesterday and amid my weeping, I got nothing done.

This is a poor excuse and I would normally have chalked it up to a "wasted" weekend day.  You know, the ones where you had,  for all intended purposes, getting a massive amount of things done because everyone was home.  DadOfAllTrades could pound out the oil changes.  I could clean and cook for the week.  The boys could play, play, play.  And we could all eat healthy meals.  It becomes "wasted" when things beyond your control happen to not allow you to cross even one thing off your list.  Like DadOfAllTrades getting called into work.  Or a family get together (not that this is bad, but floors do not get vacuumed when one is not home).  Or the boys are at each other and I am afraid to leave them alone for fear of having to make an ER run.  So, "wasted" in this case was the moving van in my driveway.  Oldest nephew moved into his first apartment and it bothered me in a big way.

So, there were many young strapping men in my house tracking snow and who knows what all over my floors.  (I forgive the "No shoes" rule on moving days-not too practical to try to put on a pair of shoes while suspending a heavy sleeper sofa.)  A few of these young strapping men arrived before I showered and saw me in my flannel jammies with crazy hair.  Oh well.  My SIL brought over donuts.  My boys ate two donuts each in roughly four minutes.  Really- I don't think I had time to even look at the clock to keep time before the donuts were in their bellies and smeared on their faces.

DadOfAllTrades had an overnight assignment and did not hit the sheets until 5am.  By the way, he had to tell me this because I was soooooo sleeping.  I do that sometimes-the queen of sleep.  Anyway, he woke feeling groggy, grumpy, and walking like Frankenstein to the coffeemaker.  Donuts and coffee lightened his spirits quite a bit as I rarely allow such trans fat to cross my threshold.  A warm breakfast including fruit and whole grains is my habit, and sometimes DadOfAllTrades objects to this (as is demonstrated by the insane amount of Pop-Tarts I have owned).

So moving happened, my youngin's kept getting yelled at because they were underfoot, and I had to try to roll Christmas cookies in powdered sugar/chocolate/nuts amidst the chaos.  I think I washed my hands 248 times yesterday.  The boys received too few warm fuzzies for my blood yesterday.  My mood did not help their mood.  Ugh.

So here I am with a shot at redemption.  I have a day of nothingness spread out ahead of me!  Bliss!  I could sit on the floor and make Lego somethings for hours (at least until my aging hips scream too loudly).  I could create a list and we could go at it.  Or I could let the boys dictate the goings-on.

Not sure.  I'll decide later.  Until then, we cuddle.

Forgiveness

I never like to hear that trouble has landed in the lap of a friend.  Unfortunately, a dear friend has been having some serious family issues.  The topic of forgiveness has come up time and time again.  Needless to say, the issue of forgiveness has been discussed a lot and has been on my mind.  How should one forgive?  Is it necessary to forgive all?  Can someone not forgive and still be at peace?  Is it possible as a human to really, truly forgive as Jesus can?

There are many phrases that contain this word-but few of those phrases some up it’s magnitude.

“Forgive and forget”.  Yeah, maybe if someone stole your pencil.  But not for most infarctions we face as humans.  It seems so easy to do something that upsets another person.  I am not talking about accidentally cutting off another with your shopping cart.  I am talking about lending a book out that belongs to someone else and you are well aware of their feelings toward their literature. (Sorry, SIL)  I am talking about telling a secret that you were sworn to keep to yourself.  (Sorry, anonymous)  These things just slide off our tongues or hands quite quickly.  So quickly, almost that we don’t even realize it before it is too late and we cannot take it back.  But if we forget what we have done, or how others have wronged us, how can we grow as a person?  How can we learn from our experiences and work toward being a better person?

“Forgiveness is the sweetest revenge. “  (Isaac Freidmann)   How is letting someone off the hook revenge?  If they have cut us to the core, aren’t we being naive in letting them inside our feelings again?  Maybe what the author of this quote means is that telling someone that we forgive is an acknowledgement of the hurt.  Kinda like a “I KNOW you did this.  God KNOWS you did this.  Now live with your mistake.  OH, and don’t let it eat you alive inside.”  Seems kinda vindictive.

“...and forgive us our sins, for we ourselves forgive each one who is in debt to us.”  Luke 11:3-4  OK, so we have all heard this one.  We are told that God will forgive our sins if we ask him.  While this sounds simple, it is really hard for me.  How can I confess a sin in a prayer and know that I have been forgiven?  Must it be spoken out loud?  Here is where faith comes in.  He says he is going to forgive us, and we must believe.  Most of the time I do.  But what about those times I did something for which I am truly embarrassed or regretful?  Something that I know was wrong and that I did anyway?  It is the big ones, the huge hurts, that we must truly have our faith in our hands. So that it is almost something palpable, like play-doh.  I must hold my faith and squish it around as I am feeling guilty until he gives me the sign.  What that is yet I don’t know.  But I do know that I have seen some of those signs and feel forgiven.

And this is the one that I have been stewing over for the past couple of days:  “Father, forgive them for they know not what they do.”  Luke 23:34.   Jesus asked for forgiveness for the people who were persecuting him.  The people who were killing him for his beliefs.  A friend said that maybe that is the key.  He asks God to forgive them, but he did not forgive them himself.  Jesus did not say “I forgive you for killing me” to the faces of those who were doing the deed.  He told his Father.  If the wrong against us is too large, maybe we are to forgive the person through our Lord.  Maybe we are not to confront the person, or people, but pray for their souls.  Even if they beg for forgiveness, maybe we are to follow his example and put it out to the Lord.   This may be how he teaches us to truly forgive a big-deal-sin against us.  He does not force us to go face to face with the person who cut us deep.  He would never want us to experience more harm.  But he does want us to experience the inner peace we could have by forgiving the wrong to him and knowing that He will take care of it.


For me, I am going to choose to offer it up to Him.  I am believing that He will let me know if I am to go face to face, or just show it to him.  And if I have to do it “seventy times seven”, then that is how many times it will be prayed.

The Mother of Invention

I think I am going to try to be an inventor.  Over the years of parenting there have been a few things I have done that other mothers have praised.  Necessity is the mother of invention and I was just trying to be my practical self.  So here are some of the things:

1) The Holey-Boob shirt.  I had one child born in January.  Nursing said child in public became a cold proposition.  First, because I had to bear my midriff even if it was under a blanket with a baby against it.  And second, my body chemistry changed and I have become a freeze-baby-anything under 65 degrees is cause for wool to be worn.   I was shivering so much my poor son couldn't latch on!  So I tried to solve this problem.  DadOfAllTrades was getting rid of several old white undershirts.  So I grabbed one before it hit the donation bag, put it on, tucked it into the huge pants I was wearing at the time, and grabbed a pair of scissors.  I cut two vertical slits in the shirt by my busom.  Perfect!  I could keep a layer against my skin to retain body heat and could still access the nursing bra clips.  Problem solved.  Later, when a mom I knew had a winter baby, I passed them on. She blessed me up and down.

2) Boys in overalls.  While I did not invent this per sea, I used this trick always.  When my boys were precarious toddlers they wore overalls every single day.  That way they always had a HANDLE.  It came in handy constantly.

3) The bag-in-the-trunk:  I ALWAYS have a bag in the trunk with stuff for the boys.  While to contents have changed over the years, the bag has never left other than to restock.  It hold a change of clothes in the right size including a junky pair of shoes, granola bars, juice boxes, and wet wipes, just to name a few.  When they were littler I had such things as a change of clothes for me (one of my boys was a big spit-up-er and I was frequently doused with smelly stuff.  I have changed in so many public restrooms that I lost count.) and a spare pacifier.  Then it changed to nontoxic crayons and a coloring book and a plastic mat for germy restaurant tables.  Now it is pretty much just clothes, I have boys after all, and a water bottle or two.  But it is still there and will not leave until they leave for college.  DadOfAllTrades does not like this as it takes up precious real estate in the trunk and just gets pushed around out of the way.  But he has not had the occasions of being alone with the boys and needing something essential, like food, when they boys do not have another distraction.  He has seen it in action though, and he agrees that is really does work.

4) My latest: A wrist worn recording device.  It can be programmed with many phrases I find myself repeating every single day.  All I would have to do is quickly type in the number corresponding to the phrase and the machine would say it.  That way I would not have to repeat the same thing over and over...and over...again every day.  here are a few of the phrases I would have already entered into the device:

• Sit down with food in your mouth.  
• Please stop knocking my arms while I am trying to type.  
• Please stop hitting your brother. 
• Are you choosing joy?  
• Please stop antagonizing your brother.  
• Please take your hand out of your pants.  
• Wash your hands before you help in the kitchen.  
• Yes, you need to rewash your hands.  
• Please stop picking your nose and eating the result.  
• Get your shoes on.  
• Stop eating play doh.
• Good choice!
• Are you making the best choice?
• No, I don't know where your lovey is.  
• I can't understand you when you wine.  
• No, I cannot turn on the Waving Santa now.  
• Please sound it out;  do your own best spelling.
• You cannot hit your brother with anything.
• It is time to put away some of these toys before we take something else out.
• Stop jumping off the bed.  I don't care how cool the thud noise is.
• I love you!
• I am so proud!

I am sure I will invent something else as the necessity arises.  Until then, happy day!

My all time favorite muffins

Here is the recipe for what I think are the best muffins for this time of year.  They are not like other high fiber-high nutrient muffins.  They are moist and sweet, although not as sweet as a blueberry muffin from a bakery.  Just right!

1 1/2 cups flour
1 1/2 cups whole wheat flour
1 cup wheat germ
1 cup sugar
1 cup brown sugar
2 tsp baking soda
1 1/2 tsp salt
2 tsp ground cinnamon
1/2 tsp each ground ginger, nutmeg, cloves (all optional)
** Mix above together and make a well.**

2 1/2 cups pumpkin or other winter squash, cooked and pureed
4 eggs, lightly beaten
1/2 cup oil
1/2 cup chopped nuts (I like pecans or walnuts in these)
**Add into the will and mix until all of the dry ingredients are moistened.  Spoon batter into 24 muffin tins.  Bake in a preheated oven at 350 degrees, 25-35 minutes. Cool in pan 5 minutes, then remove to wire rack to cool completely.**

Can be bakes into two loaves.  Increase baking time to 50 min.

Black Friday

I did it this year.  The black Friday calling got me, and I went.  Not until 6:30am, but I went nonetheless.  And I have to admit, it was a mixed bag of feelings.

My first stop was to get Harry Potter dvd's advertised for $3.  What a steal!  The store only had one year available and said that each store only received one year.  If I wanted all six years that have been released I would have had to travel to six different stores.  Umph.  Not sure if I was upset about this fact,  or that I fell for the advertisement.  But I stood in line for 15 minutes to pay for my $3 dvd.  Didn't buy anything else.  I'll show them.

Then I waltzed over to Kohl's to find a nice top for Christmas with a little bling on it.  They were advertising most clothing at 60% of, so what the heck?  Since I was shopping for me it was kinda fun.  I got a chance to try on without four little eyes watching me.  I could concentrate.  I usually dislike being in a dressing room because very few articles of clothing fit this body well.  But I was having a joyful experience because I was taking some time for me.  There were corduroys that did not make my rump look like an inner tube.  Fun!  I'll get two pairs!  And I found not one, but two tops I like.  I must buy both then ask DadOfAllTrades for his opinion.  And I actually received some Kohl's Cash to spend next week.  Hmmmm....

Onto Home Dump-o, I mean Depot.  Poinsettias for .99 cents??  I'll take three.  Now, if I can only keep them alive until Christmas.  No tool belt for a little boy, so we must improvise.  Isn't that what Santa has to do sometimes??  Bought the adult version with an adjustable belt, so maybe it will fit.  If not we will venture to Sears after xmas and get a real pair of work suspenders in rainbow colors.  Fun!

Overall, I felt joy during this trip.  I avoided the real crazies that arrive at 3am, but I still got a little of the experience.  Next year?  Probably not, but one never knows.

Thanksgiving Day

 “Be joyful always; pray continually; GIVE THANKS IN ALL CIRCUMSTANCES, for this is God's will for you in Christ Jesus. 1 Thess 5:16-18

Our day started out with my boys fighting.  The first words I heard, loud an dragging me from a deep slumber, were “YOURE A POOP HEAD AND I AM NEVER PLAYING WITH YOU AGAIN”.  Or something like that.

Unfortunately their relationship did not change in the course of the morning or in the car ride over to my aunt’s house.  This caused me to grab LegoMaster by the hood of his coat and drag him out of the car while yelling “I am SURE that Aunty has a room or a corner to put you two in, and if I have to do that I will personally put you back in the car and drive you home without dinner and without staying the night at Grandma and Grandpa’s”. 

I said it strong.  I said it loud.  And I said it in the driveway of my aunt’s house, so I am next to positive they heard me because an instant later the door opened and folks were saying hello. 

So, instead of focusing on that aspect of my thanksgiving, I will choose to make a list of the things to be thankful for, albeit small on this day.

-I have two healthy, smart, handsome boys that I have been entrusted with.  I am filled with joy at their presence.

-I have a wonderful husband who puts up with my whims.  As the boys were leaving in the car with my parents, I stated that we were going to do some Santa-ing and then see if Harry Potter was playing at a reasonable time.  He did not even bat an eyelash, but turned the car in the direction I asked. 

-I have family that wants to be together on holidays such as this.

-I have friends who trust me.  We are sitting one’s dog, and caring for another’s cats (in their own home, but still…)  The folks I would have watch my dog are few and far between, so I feel blessed to have someone include me on their list.

-Although I had to eat a meal that came from a restaurant on a day when home cooking is traditional, I am grateful that I have the means to eat anything I want, and as much as I want.

-And, most of all, I am grateful for the Lord of my life.  He is constantly showing me his entire splendor in people, places, sounds, sights.  He loves me and He always will.  Thanks be to God for making this all possible. 

I guess my list wasn't so small after all.

The Waving Santa

I apologize in advance for anyone who does these things.  Sorry 100 times.  Amen.

Truthfully, I have never liked some holiday decorations.  I don't like the flashing ones.  Too distracting.  Give me solid lights any day.  I don't like overdone-just an outline of the roof 'otta do.  Maybe a pine roping or two. Bright red bows with it please.

Then I had children and had to change my opinion.

My rugrats have showed me that all the above listed things are truly beautiful to young kids and add to the excitement of the holiday season.  So I caved a couple of years ago and bought one of those inflatables.  Up until that point I had an opinion of take-it-or-leave-it about these types of decorations.  The frugal side of me wondered who on earth would spend up to $100 on one holiday decoration.  Some are corny-like the Santa riding a Harley.  Enough for a giggle, but really, do you want that in your yard?

But here I am two years later with THE WAVING SANTA and his sidekick Freezie, the penguin.  Buzz, my littlest, is so infatuated with THE WAVING SANTA that he asks questions about him for twelve months.  Seriously, he asks if he is sleeping "or that bibernating thing where they go into a cave" in March.   He asks on a clear summer day if we can put him up to check for tears.  He starts being relentless somewhere around the start of school and does not give up until THE WAVING SANTA is dis-boxed and inflated for the first time of the season.  While some of it is annoying, I am enthralled at his love for the huge inflatable red-man.  Why is this the object that he focuses on?  Why not the stocking that delivers him wonderful goodies?  Why not the box of ornaments that he made in preschool (really only last year)?

This year, we have had a warm spell the weekend before thanksgiving.  I decided that the holiday decorations were to be put up before Turkey day because it was so flippin' warm.  Who would want to put up lights when it is cold enough to freeze your digits?  Not me.   So five days before Thanksgiving, THE WAVING SANTA is proudly anchored into our front yard.

Now herein lies the problem.  I choose to celebrate one holiday at a time.  Right now, it is time to be thankful for the multitude of blessings our fine Lord has rained down on us.  It is not yet time to sing Christmas carols.  I know, hey you-don't you swear by getting all your holiday shopping done before the last Thursday in November?  Why, Yes.  Yes I do because I am then in a better holiday spirit without having to go into any retail establishment and fighting the grumpy crowds looking for "that special gift".  But I refuse to decorate for Christmas until after Thanksgiving.  The boys do not understand this nuance in my personality.  They just want to inflate THE WAVING SANTA and turn on the lights (which, for the record, are flashing).

So, for the last four days we have had our lights going and our inflatables inflated.  Quite a turn around, wouldn't you say?

But not one indoor decoration has been  unboxed much to the dismay of LegoMaster and Buzz.   Here I stand my ground.

Up, Up and Away (part 2)

When we last left the balloon crew, Seasoned Mentor just declined the invitation for a flight in an Oh, So Casual way...

Mr. Pilot then turns and looks at his crowd.  He casually states “DadOfAllTrades, hop in.”  My face shoots up at DadOfAllTrades, who is looking at his shoes.  Um, hello Dear.  He just told you to get on board.  Mr. Pilot repeats it and DadOfAllTrades finally gets it.  He tells me later that he truly thought Mr. Pilot was talking to someone else, a crew member from last time that shared his name.  DadOfAllTrades finally climbs in (Oh, you are talking about ME?!?!) and I hand him the camera.  Then Mr. Pilot asks for me.  Yesss!  I was thinking one-at-a-time, please.  But here we go!

I look at the boys.  They look horrified.  You are taking our parents away??  What about us?  But Mrs. Pilot calms them and begins to chatter in a way that only she can do, and they begin to cool off.  LegoMaster checks that we know how to use his camera, and we reassure him. 

Then we are ascending.  My babies are getting smaller and smaller.  I hear Buzz yell “Mamma!  Bye, Mamma!”  I wave wildly.  And we are gone.  Up in the air.  Far away from the ground.  The beauty of this is that one cannot hear a sound.  It is totally silent.  Except of course for a deafening roar of a 1 million btu burner every now and then, but it is so silent I am in awe.  I never thought the world could be so quiet.  There have been moments of silence in my own home that I relish.  Like when the boys are happily playing together using some sort of toy with wheels and all motors are silent, for an instant.  Or when both boys have been gotten to school, on time, with happy dispositions and I walk in the door with three hours of possibilities ahead of me.  But up in the air, one can hear nothing.

Once reality starts to set in, I can hear a dog bark.  Then a lawnmower mowing.  It is like my hearing is coming back little by little.  I look around and start to put the pieces together.  I see the large reservoir, the main water source of a semi large city south of here.  I recognize streets.  I see the school complex.  We float northward and Mr. Pilot points out the home of the gentleman that invented the low energy light bulb.  Just huge, like LA movie star huge and it is just down the street from me.  Who knew?  There are many more swimming pools than I could have ever imagined.   If I really scan the ground, I can tell other people are looking up at us and running to get cameras, or fellow family members.  That is a nifty feeling!  We are bringing people pleasure!

After a few minutes DadOfAllTrades asks what Mr. Pilot is looking for and he answers that he is always in search of a landing site.  Balloons are reliant on the winds.  It is not as though the pilot can fire up the lateral burners and head to the right when he feels like it.  He has to ascend or descend and hope the winds are going to pull him to where he needs to be.  The pilots have always studied the weather patterns before they take off, so he has an idea how high he needs to be to go each direction, but still, they are at the mercy of hot and cold air.  Mr. Pilot explains that he is watching for things like brush burning in someone’s back yard so that he can see what the smoke is doing.  This is absolutely fascinating to me, and I listen as we float over the freeway, hearing honks from the cars below.

Every so often I look down for the boys and wonder what they are doing.  If Mrs. Pilot has anything to say about it, they are sitting with the poodle and cramming their faces with cheese sticks and red pepper strips and drinking root beer.  What a life!

Mr. Pilot states that he is going to shoot for a golf course up ahead.  He says he is going to lower the balloon to see how the wind shear is down below.  Just so we are aware, he says that when we left, it was moderate, so the balloon may “speed up”, or cover more ground.   Fortunately this doesn’t happen and we casually glide over the treetops.  DadOfAllTrades points out that he could touch the tops of the trees and Mr. Pilot says go ahead, you’ll get down faster that way, hehe.  I give him the hairy eyeball and he keeps all hands and legs inside the ride.

Landing a balloon is not like landing other aircraft.  There is no landing gear that must be deployed.  There are no wheels on the bottom of the basket.  Our instructions are to hold on to the ropes, face the direction of travel and bend our knees.  Mr. Pilot states that we will probably bounce three times before settling down.  Bounce?  What?  It is like being the piñata that just got wacked.  The basket hits on one side, the force of the wind on the balloon pulls us back up again, and we whack the ground again.  But we rest this time and stay in position to await the chase vehicle.  I guess that wasn’t that bad. 

Mr. Pilot reminds us not to unboard or the balloon will go “to the stratosphere”.   Apparently, it is balanced with our body weight vs it’s hot air.  If our over-one-hundred pound body leaves the equation, the balance is upset and it must rise to equilibrium.  Science, science everywhere.

I hear a hoot from my left and the rest of the crew comes running through a clearing.  Well, just the strong guys.  Mrs. Pilot and my boys are still in the chase vehicle.   A few steps behind are a father –son team on a large ATV.  They are looking on with interest.  After the formality of asking for permission to land and bring the chase vehicle on the property, it is determined that we must carry the envelope and the basket roughly 250 feet.  While that is not long for a driveway, it is long when carrying something that weighs about the same as a baby elephant.

Here is where Mr. Pilot really starts to sweat.  ATV dude and son have offered to use the machine to “carry” what is heavy to the chase truck.  Mr. Pilot is not convinced but Funny Friend says “oh, what the heck?” and talks him into it.  Really, these balloon contraptions are quite pricy.  I have searched on line just ‘cuz I am of the curious sort and here is a site if you are interested also http://www.aerostatz.com/70-80.html.   Resting the edge of that basket on the handlebars could be a $40,000 mistake.  But everyone is careful and all pieces make it to their home on the trailer.  DadOfAllTrades has longer arms from trying to hold all that weight for so long.

Mrs. Pilot readies the post flight beverages.  It is a tradition to have a glass of champagne after a flight.  This started way back when the first hot air balloons scared the bejesus out of people who had never seen such a contraption.  Remember, this is before any flying invention was ever even thought of.  Think of standing in your field of lavender and something 100 feet tall with a flame comes out of the sky.  The pilots began carrying champagne because no one can resist a glass of alcohol to ease the fear.  So, our post flight drinks are about to be poured. 

Or so we thought.

We are asked to kneel and they –everyone else- stand in a huddle across from us.  The boys drop to their knees immediately.  DadOfAllTrades and I squat and wonder.  Mrs. Pilot reads the ballooners prayer (I think every occupation has one of these).  Everyone grins goofily.  DadOfAllTrades glances at Mr. Pilot, who places his thumb over the top of the champagne bottle and starts to shake it.  We are about to get wet.  Uh-oh.  DadOfAllTrades and I think fast and whisper “Put the boys in front of us”.  Of course, what better way to drive away from a scene then with children 5 and 6 who smell like a college bar? I burry my head on LegoMasters back and get soaked from the nape of my neck to the small of my back.  

 “Cowards get it the worst!”, Mr. Pilot states.  

Up, Up and Away (part 1)

A couple of months ago, as we were reading bedtime books to the boys, we heard the distinctive roar of a hot air balloon burner.  It is loud, powerful and sounds like nothing else I can describe.  We tore open the shade (to see what was the matter) and looked into the eyes of the balloon pilot.  Well, not really, but the balloon was about second story level and hovering over our backyard.  DadOfAllTrades and the boys ran down the stairs two at a time and we all ended up in the back yard.  Quite a sight, as the boys were in their pj’s.  After seeing the balloon hover away without a sound, I winked at DadOfAllTrades and suggested we hop in the car and chase it.  It was not a school night, after all, and we only live once.  So we did, and we met a wonderful couple who told us that we could help them crew for the balloon.  If we helped them twice, we could go up in the balloon.  It sounded too good to be true. 

And for a little while, it was.  We did help a few weeks later.  Pretty cool, and the boys were all abuzz at the task, and I will discuss it at another time.  But as the weeks of the fall became short, and the weather became less and less conducive to flying a hot air balloon, DadOfAllTrades and I began to think that our second time helping would have to come next year.  Oh well, the boys have loved the balloons for four years now. The love was not going to go away overnight.

The lovely couple kept trying to arrange flights and Mother Nature never cooperated.  Until last night.  Well last afternoon-with the time change darkness comes early to these parts now.   Finally we were arriving at their driveway for a flight.  This would be our second time on the crew which meant that next year we would be able to fly.  Whoop!  We said the obligatory hellos to the other helpers and we piled in the Suburban, their bouncy poodle included.

After arriving at a locked gate, barring us entrance to the take-off pad of choice, we could see the pilots brain a-turning.  The winds were going to take us north, so he drove further south and wound up at a cul-de-sac.  We hopped out, gave the boys their “stay on the trailer” instructions, and began prep.  It is kinda neat to keep your eye on the surrounding houses.  As the inhabitants figure out that there is a balloon launching, they run out with video cameras and smiles.  Pretty cool.

DadOfAllTrades and I are on velcro duty, putting the parachute in the top of the envelope (the colorful fabric balloon is really called an envelope) as it inflates.  The pilot is concerned tonight, because he cannot find the correct cord and he trots off into the envelope.  Really, he is inside this powerful balloon that lifted me off the ground as I was trying to do the Velcro last time.  I repeat, he is inside it.  As it is inflating.  I fight the urge to yell “HURRY UP!” because I figure he knows what he is doing and continue to attach the parachute.  I guess he finds it because he eventually comes out like a magician coming out from behind the curtain for the audiences delight.

The envelope finally is full and the balloon is upright.  At this point, the crew is hanging on to the basket to keep that balloon from flying away from the pilot.  He looks to his mentor, one if the crew for the night, and tells him to board.  The seasoned mentor says “no”.  Like, “No thanks.  I have something else to do. No biggie.  I’ll catch you next time.”  What??  The guy who knows the most about piloting a balloon in unpredictable winds is refusing??  This should be a signal to everyone else there that this flight might not be a good idea.  I, however, miss this slight-of-hand “no” because I never can understand social subtleties.

{Conclusion to arrive tomorrow}

Bonding time with Daddy?

Last Sunday, DadOfAllTrades sat down with the boys and watched part of the local team’s professional football game and some of the NASCAR race.  While getting things done around the house is his idea of a good time on the weekends, sometimes stillness wins and the couch becomes his favorite place.  He is really not a huge sports fan, so listening to him answer the questions about the rules of a particular sport is usually all the entertainment I need on such a day, so I park myself on the nearby loveseat.  The boys hover around him like he is some budda to worship.  I can tell Buzz has the call of the toys, but being near dad wins out and he does this stand-up-sit-down thing all afternoon, much to DadOfAllTrades’ dismay.

This Sunday, DadOfAllTrades is trying really hard to pause the tv before the commercials really get going.  This is because we have noticed that the advertisements that are placed in professional sports are RARELY appropriate for five and six year olds.  Such as GoDaddy.com ads with large voluptuous, um….people; and previews for shows such as Living Dead, or something like that as I could not catch the real title for my lunge across the room for the remote.  The images are enough to make me put down the potato chips out of revulsion, let alone show the boys what is out there. 

Dobson, in his book Bringing Up Boys, states that {boys should be kept away from violent and sexual images until the age of reason} or something close to that.  That is, the age when a parent could sit down with them and discuss the real/fiction aspect of the scene, or even discuss how the scene was shot (no pun intended) to make that explosion look so cool.  At our home, that age has not yet been reached.   But it is being forced on us by a 15 second time slot.

LegoMaster is of the sensitive type.  He cannot watch the tractor tipping/combine scene in Disney’s Cars without having nightmares for three days.  He is none too happy about Buzz’s fascination with the Clone Wars series, and has declared to DadOfAllTrades and myself that he will, under no circumstances, play light sabers with Buzz as light sabers kill the robots and he does not want to be “kilt”.  I think he is just unnerved at the power he is seeing on the screen.  He does not like loud.  He does not like fast.  If one would watch NASCAR with him, you would have to turn the volume down to next to nothing to get him to sit with you.  DadOfAllTrades used to turn up the volume at a particular point of the race (if you are a fan, you know when) and LegoMaster used to leave the room.  At least he did until we figured out that he did not have to go to the bathroom, that he was leaving because he was uncomfortable.

I am close to positive that LegoMaster is not the only young boy with these feelings.  Why are networks showing such realistic looking scenes during the day when so many young boys are watching with their fathers?  I am not for censorship.  But when does our society feel this crosses the line?  When do we work together to restrict these images and keep our kids young?  I have heard many a parent complain that we are asking way too much of our kids now-a-days.  That they have to do too much _______ (fill in the blank).  Homework, chores, whatever.   But these same parents guffaw at the funniness of the Superbowl commercials, not realizing that putting funniness with drinking and pretty women has brought our societies’ generalized neglect for the power of alcohol to one of our biggest problems. 

Is saddens me that an innocent bonding time on the couch with a father becomes a stressor to my child.  And that my other child seems not bothered by the images.  After all, shouldn’t a five year old wonder why the actor looks blue and has blood streaming down his face?   Unfortunately, Buzz does not question this, and I wonder if he is already desensitized to such images.  Has he already lost his innocence and rosy outlook on the world?  

Until we find another solution, we will watch football quarters (the team is usually loosing, so why watch the whole thing?) and NASCAR laps with the remote in hand and thank our Loving Lord for guiding one of our fellow humans to the invention of “Pause” on network television.  And not be able to doze on a Sunday while watching the game.

When the brotherhood gets you down

So far this  morning I :

1.) have been accused of trying to burn LegoMaster by giving him a metal spoon for his oatmeal.  "Mom-you know I don't like metal spoons in hot stuff.  It burns my mouth."  For real?  I didn't realize that oatmeal that had been sitting on the counter cooling for fifteen minutes could cause third degree burns in your mouth when using a metal spoon.  I do realize that hot oatmeal hurts skin (I am sure you are also aware of this) and that is why it cools for so long before offering it to my precious boy.  He, however, in his 6 year old mind, just thinks I ignore him.  Hmm.

2.) was accused of forgetting.  LegoMaster also got mad at me because I had not written a note to his library teacher.  You see, it is library day and books must be brought in to school, put in a basket, and taken down to the library for check in.  I did not know that this happens BEFORE library; I am not a student in the class so how would I know??   You see also, said book is important to LegoMaster because the topic of the book is making wooden vehicles.  When he brought it home last Thursday, he showed it to DadOfAllTrades and they immediately began construction, Buzz included.  It has been a pleasure to watch the three of them up to their knees in wood and tools, and I have snapped many a photo of my young-ins with power tools in their hands and goggles on their eyes (safety first!).  They have not finished these vehicles because life has gotten in the way, oh horrors, and they actually had to go to work and to school.  So LegoMaster wants to keep the book.  While trying to explain to him why he must ask to renew the book, he interrupts me, not too casually-more like a "talk to the hand" type gesture- and asks if I forgot to write the note.  Seriously?  I haven't even begun to think where I may find a pen and some paper I am not embarrassed to send to his teacher and I have already forgotten?  Hmm.

3.) cleared the uneaten oatmeal from the table and sent them to school hungry.  In this instance, I actually enforced a house rule we have.  That rule states that if your bottom leaves your chair for any reason other than blood, you have told me with your actions that you are finished with your meal and your plate will be removed from the table.  I had only enforced this rule once before, but it was dinner, they had asked for an appetizer, and then ate too much of the appetizer (it was baby carrots so I guess I didn't care).  No tears then.  And, quite truthfully, no tears today because they had not even realized I had done it.  They were too busy playing with a useless kid's meal toy.  Although, LegoMaster casually asked as he was putting on  his shoes if I was going to send him to school without breakfast.  I confidently said I was going to do just that.  He said "Oh" and went back to getting ready to go.  Hmm.

On mornings like these I feel so under appreciated.  I feel that all the hard work I have done over the past years of being a mommy has been for naught.  All the times I have lovingly enforced rules, or taught how to perform the rule in a correct way, was wasted time.   That I am just some living, breathing robot that must perform her tasks or the house would not function, or at least little boys would miss the bus.  I begin to wonder why.  Not "why -insert any reasonable question here-", just "why?"

Then I look into their eyes as I am helping them zip coats and I realize that the low days make the high days that much better.  That someday they will realize what I have done for them.  It may be when their own kids are complaining and they say the inevitable "I never did that to my mom!  Did I?"  It may be when they go to college and they cannot stand going to their friends dorm room because he never changed his sheets and the room stinks.  Or it may be today, when LegoMaster hands his teacher the "Please allow him to renew this book" note I did write.

Or maybe they will never realize it.  And , truly, that is OK too.

Karate and how not to fight

My boys started karate almost three years ago.  DadOfAllTrades remembered how well it helped his hyper cousin and requested I look into a dojo (fancy word for karate studio).  After talking to an acquaintance who's boy was "trying it out", we took LegoMaster for his first lesson.  He had just turned four.  Now he is a purple belt at the tender age of six and this mother's heart is overjoyed at his accomplishment.

There is an incorrect belief that teaching a child karate, or another martial art, is a sure-fire ticket to sparring on the carpet daily and a visit to the ER monthly.  And with two boys in the house, this could become a problem.  However, this is totally a fallacy.  Karate is about self control, about defense-not offense, and safety.  Our SuperSensei (she is fabulous and I would drive farther than I am driving now to have my boys learn from her) teaches every new student that they are now karate students, therefore they are now on another level.  They must only use their skills when someone else messes with them.  She burns this point home almost every lesson, and has taught them skills that I have never even thought they could understand.

They have practiced calling 911, from a real phone, to a real operator.  (Yes, she pre-arranged this, but what better way to see how your child acts under pressure?  They remember about half of what you taught them, by the way, and hopefully it will be the half that helps)  They have climbed out of a fire ladder from the second story of our house.  They have practiced what to do when they get lost in a store.  They have practiced how close to stay to mom/dad in a store.  Notice I say practiced, not just heard a talk about what to do.  And they know about ten cada, giving them ways to use their side kick and middle block effectively.  But my heart rests easily because I KNOW that they can handle themselves under pressure.  At least the types of pressure that would make most 5 and 6 year olds crawl under the bed.  And I know that pathways for discussion have been opened.

Let me put it this way:

LegoMaster is a quiet boy.  His aunt continually says that I am lucky he is not "all-boy".  I just think he is a small version of his father, separated by about thirty-some years.  He would rather lie on the floor and watch the wheels of some toy vehicle roll, over and over again.  The call of outdoors on a bike happens, he just isn't that interested.  He once sat for five hours in the same place building a Lego set (with wheels, of course).  When he is in a crowd, it is like I am wearing Velcro and he is wearing fleece-ever experience what those two fabrics do in the dryer??  He is shy, an introvert.  But when he steps on that mat, he is a different person.

When he was an orange belt, SuperSensei asked to move him up to the purple belt class (Well, Sensei's don't ask, they tell.  That is what makes them so respected.)  I am thinking I am super proud of my boy for working so hard, and that I am glad he might have found the "one thing he is good at".  This class has other children up to three years older that LegoMaster, so I am also thinking that she may be off the mark this time.  One class, about three weeks later, SuperSensei is taking the class through a cada drill and asks for a volunteer.  My boy confidently raises his hand, goes to the front of the class, and proceeds to lead the class through the cada as if he has been teaching his whole life.  I darn near fell off the couch.  The same boy who refuses to tell his grandparents how well he did at reading is leading a class of older kids.

Sooner or later I will see this confidence translate into his other lives, at school, at play dates, on the phone with Grandma.  But for now, I am comfortable with knowing that he has the skills to defend himself.  And that there is one thing in his life that he is "really good at".

Now THAT is what karate is all about.