Reflecting on the Disappointment

I am disappointed that the voters of this country have chosen to listen to what the media says about Barack Obama rather than listening to what he says about himself, both in word and in deed. Yet I am encouraged that this is not the end of the story.

Everyone must submit himself to the governing authorities, for there is no authority except that which God has established. The authorities that exist have been established by God. Consequently, he who rebels against the authority is rebelling against what God has instituted, and those who do so will bring judgment on themselves. For rulers hold no terror for those who do right, but for those who do wrong. Do you want to be free from fear of the one in authority? Then do what is right and he will commend you. - Romans 13:1-3

This is also why you pay taxes, for the authorities are God's servants, who give their full time to governing. - Romans 13:6

Put on the full armor of God so that you can take your stand against the devil's schemes. For our struggle is not against flesh and blood, but against the rulers, against the authorities, against the powers of this dark world and against the spiritual forces of evil in the heavenly realms. Therefore put on the full armor of God, so that when the day of evil comes, you may be able to stand your ground, and after you have done everything, to stand. - Ephesians 6:11-13

For by him all things were created: things in heaven and on earth, visible and invisible, whether thrones or powers or rulers or authorities; all things were created by him and for him. - Colossians 1:16

Despite the follies of the voter, God remains firmly in office and in complete control. No Lame Ducks here.

I Learned Something on Facebook Today

I have developed a bit of a routine by now, for visiting my favorite web sites, checking in on Facebook, following a couple of blogs, and checking e-mail. And when I have a few free minutes and want to fritter away a little time I'll linger in Facebook and play a little.

Well, one of the things that I like to do there is work on jigsaw puzzles. There is an application called "puzzlebee" and you can complete puzzles based on a variety of criteria, or you can upload your own picture (which is how most of the puzzles were created) and turn it into a puzzle. I uploaded a picture of Patrick doing his lobster impersonation and made a puzzle out of it. That was fun.

So I have been doing these puzzles for a couple of weeks now (not every day) and it suddenly dawned on me; (light bulb) I like to do puzzles. I really enjoy them.

Now, Katherine, as it turns out, also likes to do puzzles, but most of hers are...(boring) pretty easy. Then, for her birthday this week, she got two puzzles (thank you Oma); one is a floor puzzle of the United States and the other is a smaller "regular" puzzle of a coral reef (when Mama does the shopping, Mama gets to pick). She has owned them for two days and we have completed them somewhere in the neighborhood of eight times each (this may cure me of my puzzle enjoyment).

Seriously though, it's often difficult to find something that both parent and preschooler can enjoy together (case in point; Patrick liked worms and snakes, and other creepy crawlies - and still does - and Mama, not so much) so this is a real coup. Katherine and I can do puzzles together. And you know something else? She's actually pretty good at them. Now, of course, that Katherine and I have found this common interest Patrick has joined in and likes to work on them with us.

Oh well. Some families play cards, others play board games...we (for the moment) do puzzles, and it's all thanks to Facebook (in a weird, long-story kind of way).

Worth a Grin

Today we spent the afternoon winterizing. Joerg winterized the camper while Patrick, Katherine, and I raked up the leaves and then hauled them into the forest. Patrick, who now drives the tractor and can run the leaf rake trailer, lets Katherine sit on the tractor with him and I keep raking until he comes back to the dumping pile to unload the rake.

Eventually we had raked the entire yard and were ready to start moving the leaves into the forest. So we unhooked the leaf rake and drove into the forest to get the wagon. Patrick was content to sit in the trailer with Katherine, but eventually I offered him an opportunity to drive the tractor. We picked up a load of leaves and I drove into the forest (with Patrick and Katherine sitting in the leaves) and then Patrick would drive out of the forest and Katherine and I would sit in the wagon together.

Now, this all sounds fun, I know. What you have to realize is that when we finished building the house we had our excavator come back with some extra rocks to help build a bridge of stones from where our yard ends into the forest. At the point where our yard enters the forest we have an area of soft ground where water can stand. This area is typically quite wet unless we are in drought conditions (which we are not). So, every time the tractor passes that area the ground gets chewed up and the tractor gets muddy. Our hope was that by adding rocks we could create a more solid area that would not sink down into the mud and destroy the yard. The rocks they brought are HUGE (many are larger than my fist) so driving over them with the tractor is like going seriously off-road.

So I turn the tractor over to Patrick so that he can drive us out of the forest, and Katherine and I sit in the wagon. Patrick drives nicely through the forest and then guns it right before he hits the rocks. I'm sure he didn't do it on purpose, but as you can imagine, the ride was quite bumpy. The first time through the rocks I was caught unprepared. The second time through - and every time after that - I wrapped my arms around Katherine, leaned forward (so the trailer sides wouldn't hurt my back) and put my head down with my eyes closed. Each time we would hit the rocks the ride seemed to go on forever. If I didn't know we were 'just' going over rocks I would have thought the end was here...it was SOOOO bumpy.

Anyway, I was struck by the torturous nature of this activity and had to grin; is my little angel driving fast over these rocks ON PURPOSE? Is he *trying* to kill me? Or is he just having fun? I did, after all, tell him he could go as fast as he was able to still control the tractor without hitting anything. He didn't hit anything.

Oh well. Some day this tractor will be traded in for an actual car, but I have seven years to work up my nerve for that. For now I think I'll just bring extra padding for the next ride.

Vote for Erika

I just received this video clip from my fan club (bet you didn't know I had a fan club). Check it out.

Spell Pudding

In an effort to find creative ways to help Patrick learn what he needs to learn, to take some of the drudgery out of homework and spelling practice, to introduce a little tactile learning into his kinesthetic brain, and offer some motivation to complete the tasks I introduced pudding.

Rather than making him write all his spelling words on paper (how boring!) he spells each word in chocolate pudding. For each word he spells correctly he gets to lick his finger. If he spells it incorrectly he doesn't get to lick. It worked rather well. Katherine even got in on it and wrote the letters that she knows..."K - for Katherine".

Patrick liked it so well he BEGS me to do spelling words with him. Hmm. I wonder what we can use for alphabetical ordering.

An Education in Education

When I get up in the morning and get ready for the day I try to do it with as few trips in front of the mirror as possible. I can brush my teeth, brush my hair, shower, and get dressed mostly without a mirror. Once I'm ready I head down the hall to Patrick's room to make sure he is up and getting ready for school, then I head downstairs to begin the process of making breakfast and school lunches.

And then it happens. Breakfast is ready. Lunches are done. And Patrick emerges from his room, comes downstairs and grumps at me. I have spent the entire morning avoiding the reflection in the mirror only to be confronted by my own youthful reflection in the face of my son.

As a parent I have oft recoiled at the tone of my voice and its uncanny similarity to that of my mother's when I was a kid. Yet to look in the face of your child and see yourself looking back at you (especially the ugly parts)...well it's just unnerving.

So there it is. Patrick is me! We both must have the last word in a discussion or argument, he doesn't like to get up in the morning, he doesn't like school, he hates homework, he has an answer for everything, talks non-stop, interrupts, can't sit still, and he's always wiggling and giggling in class. And if there's trouble to be found, he'll find it. He won't be the cause, but he will be just close enough to it to get dirty.

After a really tough first grade year we were hoping second grade would become more routine, settled, and relaxed. Reports from school are that he's doing pretty well. There are some things that he needs to work on, but it is clear to his teacher that Patrick is an out-of-the-box thinker, creative, insightful, bright, and thoughtful. He also has trouble staying connected with what he's supposed to be doing. His mind wanders and often his body will follow.

What is a parent to do? How do we figure out what's going on in his head, what's ruling his heart, and what's driving his body, and lead him to a better understanding of himself that will help him master the challenges of school and life, to make wise choices and be confident in his decisions? So there's the challenge; teach Patrick to do for himself that which I was not able to do myself (until MUCH later).

I wasn't a big fan of school when I was a kid. I guess I'm not a big fan of it now either. Add to that the challenges that are inherent in growing up and being a kid turns out to be pretty tough business. I have the Owner's Manual, but I could really use some Cliff's Notes right about now.

Catching Up

I am usually quite organized and on top of things. I have my plan (a list sorted by due date, priority, and type of task), and I work that plan diligently. Intermingled with mom-tasks, like doing puzzles or learning to tell time with Katherine or helping Patrick with homework, I have small chunks of the day when I work on that task list. I am usually pretty disciplined about this process and often err on the side of task-master. I rely heavily on a little PDA that holds my task list. Frankly, it holds everything; task list, contact list, calendar, and shopping lists. It even holds pictures, my budget, my Bible, and diversionary tools (tech talk for video games).

It's called a Palm Pilot and I think that's a pretty good name because sometimes it IS the pilot...not me. I like to think that I am in control of my day, but there are those days when it is clearly the Pilot flying the plane of my life. It tells me when to get up in the morning. It tells me where I have to be and when, and for whom (for very few things on my calendar are actually just for me). It tells me what I am supposed to get done today, who I'm supposed to call, what I need at the store, and how much money I have left on my budget this month. If this thing had a heartbeat and walked on two legs I would tell it to buzz off because I don't like being told what to do.

Yet here I am sitting at my computer trying to catch up on paperwork, returning calls, preparing a talk, and tying up loose ends. And who's calling the shots? That's right - Palm Pilot. I guess I'm okay with that. It doesn't ask for much, just a charge every couple days. It's small and doesn't take up much space. And it doesn't argue with me (most of the time) or talk back. It's quiet (except at 6:00 AM) and it does a pretty decent job of keeping me organized and out of trouble. I suppose, truth be told, its best quality is located on the top right corner of its casing. This feature allows me to have the last word - something I don't always get in this house - and puts me back in the pilot seat. It's called the Power Button. It gives me the power to turn it off and let life dictate what I should do right now. Maybe that means I get to sit and do this puzzle (again) or just sit on the floor and color.

Sometimes a task is a vital step in accomplishing a worthwhile goal - like coordinating meals for a mom friend. Sometimes a task is just a task and will still be there later.

Time for me to draw this to a close. Mr. Pilot is calling.