MUD

We just got back from taking the whole tribe of grandkids out on a geocaching adventure. We've found four so far and will look for more tomorrow. (Trying to give everyone a chance to be the one to find.) We went through one fairly deep section of thick woods that was wet and muddy from recent rain. Grandpa suggested at one point that we backtrack and look for a more defined trail to get to the area where we needed to be so we wouldn't have to slog through the underbrush. Eight year old Ayden piped up "Oh, we are MEN! We get dirty all the time. Just deal with it!" These kids crack me up.

Choices

Tonight after we finished up dinner over at my son's house we invited two of the tribe of 7 kids to come spend the night with us at our hotel. (We had the four that wanted to go to church with us stay over on Saturday night. We had promised the non-church goers that they could have an opportunity on another day.) The littlest one is adorable, but at 3 was not ready for a sleepover. So tonight we had Jacob - age 6 and Nathan, 13, join us for games, stories, and fun. Initially they were excited, chattering about how much fun it would be. Then suddenly as we were preparing to leave, Jacob melted in tears.

His little lower lip quivered and his whole body was shaking. The poor kid looked just miserable. I asked him what was wrong. In a shaky voice he finally admitted "I would miss my Mom!" Apparently the kids has had very little experience with overnights away from home. The IDEA of being with us at the hotel sounded really fun. But once he came to realize what he would have to give up in order to win this privilege, it totally freaked him out.

So we had a long heart to heart talk about what it means to make choices. I explained to him that I was inviting him, but that he did not have to come if he didn't want to. I told him that if he preferred to stay home with his mom that was totally ok, and that we could do some more fun stuff together tomorrow. However, if he did not want to spend the night tonight, we were not going to have him over on a different night for this visit. I said we might do it again next year when we came out, and maybe by then when he was bigger he might feel more comfortable. But for this year's visit the opportunity was pretty much now or never, so he would have to decide. I explained the sorts of things we planned to do if he wanted to come, but also made it clear that no one would be mad if he wanted to just stay home. The choice was entirely his.

This HUGE shudder went through his whole little body and he plaintively cried out "choosing is really, really hard."

Yep Jacob, it is.

I introduced him to the concept of "opportunity cost." I told him that every time we make a choice for something we want, we are cutting off the possibility of having the opposite alternative. I explained that no matter how much we tried to figure out which would be the best choice, sometimes we would pick well and be delighted with the outcome, and sometimes we would later regret the choice we made.

But I also explained that our ability to make good choices was a lot the the muscles in our arms and legs. I asked him if he understood that the more he exercised outside playing T-ball or soccer or other active things the stronger his body would be. This was a principle he understood well. He nodded and said how he could now jump higher, kick further and run faster than just a few months ago because he had been practicing really hard and was getting very strong.

I explained to him that the part of our brain that makes choices works the same way. In the beginning when we first start making some choices sometimes we don't get what we really want. Maybe it will make us sad when we wish we had picked something else. But I reminded him that even if he was disappointed about staying home to be with mom and missing out on a fun time with us, or if he felt a little bit scared or lonesome away from his mom if he did go along, nothing really bad could happen to him either way. I explained that we were giving him choices that were both safe and both had something good about them. So he could think about it for 5 minutes and then we were going to leave. It was totally up to him if he decided he wanted to go with us or stay home.

He vacillated quite a bit on the decision. But in the end, he didn't want his big brother to go and him be left behind. So both boys came with us, and both kids had one heck of a good time. After all, I'm a rockin' cool grandma.

As we turned out the lights and the boys settled down to go to sleep for the night Jacob said with a touch of reverence and awe in his voice: "Grandma, this was really fun. It was a good choice."

As I think of some of the choices I've made, I do understand the struggle the little guy faced, and know how hard it can be sometimes. Should I pick door number 1 or door number 2?

It won't always work out well. But if I can surround myself with people who love me and then take a chance, as often as not I'll find blessings through either route, and if not I'll have safe hands to catch me when I fall.

Thanks, Jacob, for reminding me of that. And you were right. It was a lot of fun.

STARFALL

On the upside of the sleep over with the boys at Grandma & Grandpa's fancy hotel, Jacob and I got to play with STARFALL going through the entire alphabet doing letter recognition games. It is amazing how hearing a six year old erupt in giggles at the sight of a cartoon hippo or a dancing dinosaur magically lightens my heart.

That's a Sarcasm

I was hanging out with two of my grandkids this evening having a grand old time. We were talking about words and what they mean. I was defining things like quotient and capillaries. We talked about how scabs are the body's way of protecting itself and healing. We talked about why some people shave their poodle dogs to look big and fluffy up front but all skinny around the butt and back legs. We talked about brain waves and dirt and discussed all sorts of things. Then Jacob, the six year old, said to me "Do you know what a sarcasm is?" I said "I think so, but why don't you tell me what you think it is." He replied: Well, it's sort of like opposites. It's when people say one thing but they really mean it another way. And they say it like this ...to which he sing songs "I REALLY hate cookies"....and then goes on to explain in regular voice "that means that actually I LIKE cookies."

Shortly afterward as we played and talked their grandmother had a brief moment of rather undignified flatulence. To which Nathan, the thirteen year old said: "How Ladylike! ...See Grandma, that's a sarcasm!"

Yeah, kids...gotta love 'em.

Don't Run With That!

We've all heard about kids who got a pea up their nose or had some other weird thing happen.
(I personally once went to an emergency room to get a dried kernel of corn extracted from my ear, but that's another story.)

What would be your best guess of what happened to THIS kid?
Click HERE for the answer. OUCH!

Out of the Mouths of Babes

I got this list of humorous things kids have said/done from an old friend of mine from high school days. In our hearts we are still girls romping the desert in wild abandon, but we're both grandmothers now so we could share our appreciation for several of these.

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My young grandson called the other day to wish me Happy Birthday. He Asked me how old I was, and I told him, "62." He was quiet for a Moment, and then he asked, "Did you start at 1?"

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After putting her grandchildren to bed, a grandmother changed into old Slacks and a droopy blouse and proceeded to wash her hair. As she Heard the children getting more and more rambunctious, her patience Grew thin. At last she threw a towel around her head and stormed into Their room, putting them back to bed with stern warnings. As she left The room, she heard the three-year-old say with a trembling voice, "Who was THAT?"

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A grandmother was telling her little granddaughter what her own child Hood was like: "We used to skate outside on a pond. I had a swing made from a tire; it hung from a tree in our front yard. We rode our pony. We picked wild raspberries in the woods." The little girl was wide-eyed, taking this in. At last she said, "I sure wish I'd gotten to know you sooner!"

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My grandson was visiting one day when he asked, "Grandma, do you know How you and God are alike?" I mentally polished my halos while I Asked, "No, how are we alike?" "You're both old," he replied.

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A little girl was diligently pounding away on her grandfather's word Processor. She told him she was writing a story. "What's it about?" he Asked. "I don't know," she replied. "I can't read."

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I didn't know if my granddaughter had learned her colors yet, so I Decided to test her. I would point out something and ask what color it Was. She would tell me, and always she was correct. But it was fun for Me, so I continued. At last she headed for the door, saying sagely, "Grandma, I think you should try to figure out some of these yourself!"

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Our five-year-old grandson couldn't wait to tell his grandfather about The movie we had watched on television, "20,000 Leagues Under the Sea." The scenes with the submarine and the giant octopus had kept him Wide-eyed. In the middle of the telling, my husband interrupted Mark, "What caused the submarine to sink?" With a look of incredulity Mark Replied, "Grandpa, it was the 20,000 leaks!!"

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When my grandson Billy and I entered our vacation cabin, we kept the Lights off until we were inside to keep from attracting pesky insects. Still, a few fireflies followed us in. Noticing them before I did, Billy whispered, "It's no use, Grandpa. The mosquitoes are coming After us with flashlights."

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When my grandson asked me how old I was, I teasingly replied, "I'm not Sure." "Look in your underwear, Grandma," he advised. "Mine says I'm Four to six."

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A second grader came home from school and said to her grandmother, "Grandma, guess what? We learned how to make babies today." The Grandmother, more than a little surprised, tried to keep her cool. "That's interesting," she said, "How do you make babies?" "It's Simple," replied the girl. "You just change "y' to 'I and add 'es'"

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Children's Logic: "Give me a sentence about a public servant," said a Teacher. The small boy wrote: "The fireman came down the ladderpregnant." The teacher took the lad aside to correct him. "Don't you know what Pregnant means?" she asked. Sure," said the young boy confidently. "It Means carrying a child."

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A nursery school teacher was delivering a station wagon full of kids Home one day when a fire truck zoomed past. Sitting in the front seat Of the fire truck was a Dalmatian dog. The children started discussing The dog's duties. They use him to keep crowds back," said one Youngster. "No", said another, "he's just for good luck." A third Child brought the argument to a close. "They use the dogs", she said Firmly, "to find the fire hydrant."

My pal Beckett

A friend of mine and I are making plans to get to get together to talk all about Egypt. As I've written here previously, I just got back from a trip there. My friend, Beckett, has been studying about Egypt in school. He is seriously interested to hear more about the monuments and the mummies, the culture and climate, along with all else that I experienced there. So we are going to go out one day soon and immerse ourselves in talk of pharos and hieroglyphics, Nile Delta flood patterns, rock formations, and tomb jewelry. I'm looking forward to it.

It just so happens that this friend of mine is quite a bit younger than me. Like about 40 years younger. Some would argue that the differences in our age (not to mention being different genders, different faiths, and having entirely different goals for our lives) would be barriers to having a meaningul friendship. But that is not an issue to me. Beckett is smart, and funny and has a powerful faith in Christ. Those are the qualities most important to me in a friend, not how old they happen to be, where they live or what their hobbies are. He likes my company and I enjoy his. So I am very much looking forward to spending some time with him.

I find it interesting so that so many folks look for others they have something in common with as a chief criteria for building new relationships. I'm not opposed to hanging out with people who think and live more as I do. It just seldom plays out that way in my world. I tend to gather folks around me who I appreciate all the more for their diversity that opens my eyes to other paths rather than those who mirror my own.

So, dear Beckett, you bet I am every bit as excited as you are to get together and share stories of Egypt. Let me get through my final exams first, ok kiddo? After that, we will definitely set a date. You can count on it!

Pilgrims in the eyes of a child

Today I got a Thanksgiving letter from my bank which included excerpts of things school children had written about the pilgrims and the first thanksgiving for a class assignment. My ancestor William Brewster would be turning over in his toolbox if he could read these! The source these are attributed to is AOKteacherstuff.com. I looked there but didn't find this... I suspect it was downloaded at some point in the past and has been reproduced over and over. These are truly great.

Stories of the First Thanksgiving and Why We Have It:

STORY 1 (no name given) Once up on a time there was these bunch of people that came across the ocean. It took them a couple of days. They were getting away from someone and came here. After they got here it was a bad winter. They didn't have no idea why they came but knew they couldn't live without friends. They tried to make friends with the Indians. Not many of them liked them because they dressed funny. One Indian helped them learn how to grow food like turkeys and corn. He helped them plant them in the ground. After some of the Pilgrims lived through the cold winter they were glad. They invited some Indians to come eat. They thought it would be one or two but a whole bunch came to eat and they stayed forever. All the Indians scared the Pilgrims but finally they came out to eat because they stayed a long time. The end.

STORY 2 (by Maria) The Pilgrims came across the water. I think it was a big lake or something. After they got here they made friends with the Indians because there wasn't anyone else to make friends with. One day they wanted to have a big dinner. They asked the Indians to come too. A big bunch of them came. The Pilgrims had to fix a lot more food. The Indians didn't know they needed to go home right away. The Pilgrims didn't want to make them mad so the Indians stayed a long time. The Pilgrims went out and chased several turkeys and hams. They cooked corn and beans too. For dessert they cooked a pumpkin in a pie. I don't know why I am writing about the Pilgrims. I am from Mexico and don't think we have Thanksgiving with Pilgrims or Indians. The only thing I don't like about Thanksgiivng is we can't come to school. I like school. Mostly recess and lunch.

STORY 3 (by Joel) The Pilgrims came over on the Plumflower. They came a long way on the ocean. I think the ocean is a big piece of water. They left so they could get away from mean people. The Indians became friends and they asked them to come eat. One or two were suppose to come to eat but several more came with them. The Pilgrim mothers had to go to the store and get more turkeys and corn. They cooked it and the Indians ate it even though they didn't know what it was. We now have turkey every Thanksgiving because the store was out of ham. I wished they had ham instead because I don't like turkey or pumpkins. The End.

Sidewalk Chalk & Thomas Edison

This evening I attended a pig roast at the college where I work. Some of the kids in attendance were playing / drawing with sidewalk chalk. I was amazed at the creativity of those young ones! They drew some very cool stuff.

Alas, I have not got an artistic bone in my body. So I watched them work with a certain degree of pensive longing. I've often wished I could muster some sort of creative outlet, but most attempts I've made have been dismal and sad, so I stopped. Yet, watching those kids at work, it occurred to me that they were not the least bit concerned over whether their pictures were "good enough" for any standards other than the joy it brought them to create.

It made me want to re-think what things I will try or not try. Granted, I will never have the talent or skill of Julian Beaver, but that doesn't mean I couldn't have fun exploring the process.

Years ago I did some substitute teaching in an elementary school for a while. When I taught the first and second graders, if I asked a question like "who likes to draw?" or "who enjoys singing?" nearly every hand in the room shot up. They all wanted to make a picture for me or sing their favorite ditty - so eager and full of promise. But when I taught the fifth graders or eighth graders, responses to questions like that were far more scattered and timid. By that point kids had already begun to define themselves in terms of their deficiencies, saying "no way, I really suck at that!"

All too often we list what we lack instead of savoring our strengths...and we learn to move away from those areas where we have a few failures.

I am reminded of Thomas Edison...when he
was trying to find just the right material to use for the filament in light bulbs he had many, MANY failures. After literally dozens of tries without success some people encouraged him to quit and move on to something else. Instead, Edison stated: "Results! Why, man, I have gotten a lot of results. I know several thousand things that won't work." Another great Edison quote is: "Many of life's failures are people who did not realize how close they were to success when they gave up."

Things I have started and not finished are MANY: learning to draw, to play the piano, to speak Spanish, to Waltz, to sew. I HATE feeling incompetent so when I've tried something for a while with minimal success I tend to move back to my cushy comfort zone of the things I am good at. MASTERY is one of the most reinforcing feelings I know. But looking at that, I see what a limiting pattern that is. How can I learn or grow unless I learn to tolerate my own bumbling feeble attempts at new things?

Maybe its time for me to rethink some of my standards and expectations for myself. Not every art project has to be the Cistine chapel. Not every song has to rival Erna Sack.

Yeah, that sounds great. Yet even as I try to muster up the courage to begin again with art, with music, with dance, or any number of other areas I've tried before and had less than stellar results, I feel my gut turn to water with embarrassment at looking like a fool. I inwardly cringe and want to creep back to my cage of the few things where I feel certain and safe. How do I interrupt that pattern and get the gumption to establish a new paradigm for myself? I don't really know.

It SOUNDS very reasonalbe to say "even though I may not ever be great any any of these things I can have a great experience learning to express myself along the way." But in practice, I balk time and time again. The emotions that come with being the last kid picked for every school team, the wallflower left standing alone at the dance, the pathetic wretch whose attempts to create inevitably turn out to be mediocrity in the extreme....these are such a powerful impedement to trying again.

How to jump that hurdle? I don't know yet. But I aim to keep looking. I want to learn how to grap on to just a touch more of that Edison tenacity. I want to learn how to let go of the fear of "getting it wrong" or looking like a fool and be willing to give myself a chance to try as many times and in as many ways as it may take. Maybe the place to start is with a bit of sidewalk chalk.

Mud Pies and macaroni

I'm in Michigan for several days spending some time with the grandkids. Just as I was ready to go stark raving mad after beeing cooped in the house with several days of rain, the sun finally came out. So we took the kids on a grand adventure hiking through the woods. We found some great trails and were able to talk about amazing fungi and bugs and other things we saw along the way. Looking at the world through a child's eyes is a great way to recapture awe and wonder. Of course, everything was pretty wet still from all the recent rains, so everyone came out looking like mud pies. So it was back to the house for marathon showers and then a feast of macaroni and cheese. It takes so little to keep these little ones happy. Now if I just had a laundry fairy all would be right with the world.

Spots

The other day I stopped by a lemonade stand that a little kid had set up in her front yard adjacent to where the mom was running a yard sale. I already have a yard, so I didn't need a new one of those (or any more junk to clutter up the place), but it was a hot day and a cup of ice cold lemonade sounded nice. Besides, it was cute little girl running the stand and she looked like she was eager to do business. I asked her how much her lemonade cost. She looked up at me and said with full earnestness: "It's a dalmation!" I was a bit confused. She wants a spotted dog?? Fortunately the mom was listening and piped in to clarify..."No honey, it's a DONATION". I figured the laugh I got out of that was worth a buck right there.

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Of all the times moms have said "don't play with that, you'll poke your eye out" has anyone cautioned a kid they might get a fork up their nose?

This looks like it REALLY hurts! Poor kid!