Our Christmas Letter

I ran out of Christmas Cards this year. So I thought I could post my little highlights letter that I always send out with our Christmas cards or in years past as our Christmas card.

Dear Family and Friends,

I am looking back over the year and our “highlights” are more like little Christmas lights. Little bulbs of discovery, amusement, and shake your headedness. Tiny events that precede one right after the other like little flashes of light that when we put them together they are this incredible collection of memories – one conglomeration of High Little Lights.

Little Lights like – Weekly Walter is closing in on finishing the restoration of his own 1960 Lincoln.

Walter and I gave up our old flip phone for smart phones with a texting plan. This made during the day communication so much easier. It was a small change with a huge effect.

My little lights involved getting to know people better at Bible study and MOPS and serving the women in a small way that involved an important thing – breakfast!

Little lights flash for every new word little Walter can read: so, do, to, up, the….. A flash of light when he sees a word in a book, sign or at the store that he knows and points is out.

I am teaching him kindergarten work at a Preschool pace and I am enjoying the process and amazed at the progress. The little sponge soaks up words, ideas, numbers – he can count to 100 with help.  Almost daily, little light bulbs light up.

He will walk to Jr. Church on his own now and is eager to hold the door for the other kids. He finally eats apples and chicken! (Truly that maybe a legitimate Highlight!)

Rosie is a feisty firecracker. She has “music in her body” an older woman told me recently. She saw Rosie swaying to a music box. Her sweet little lights include watching that girl swing her hips like she was born to dance to VBS music! Then, you can hear her singing herself to sleep, “Jesus Loves Me….” She strings together all the songs she knows into one song so that you would think the “Itsy Bitsy Spider” lived on the “Twinkle Twinkle Little Star” and of course Jesus is there and loves both the spider and the star! She is so articulate and we are amazed at how much she knows and that she responds with such precision. She is also very particular about not having her hair be anything but wild and unruly. No bows or pony tails. She reminds me of the new redheaded Disney Princess Merida from the movie Brave. I just hope she doesn’t turn me into a bear someday!

All these precious little lights when put together have made for a wonderful year: busy, active, bright, tiring and challenging at times.

I hope we can all see the little lights in the coming year. The sweet songs, the tender hugs and kisses, the sincere conversations, the changes in heart and perspective.  They help light the way to the next day, remind us that all these precious lights are from the true source of Light and they keep us going and growing and enjoying.

Bright Blessings,

Liz, Rosie and the Walters

“I am the light of the world. Whoever follows me will never walk in darkness,

but will have the light of life.” John 8:12

Party Palpitations

Someone will be turning 5 in a few weeks. F-I-V-E it is so hard to believe how quickly the time has gone!

It seems like last week, I was recovering from a 29 hour long labor. It seems like just yesterday I was consoling my husband because our little baby's perfectly feathered "Mr. Breck" hair had changed into something more straight and blond.  Oh wait, that really was just last week, after 4+ years he still hasn't gotten over the change in hair texture. I digress.

So my boy has been talking about a birthday party. This is something that sends absolute chills down my spine. Oh the cost. Oh the details. Oh the noise. Oh the venue because we have a small place. Last year, it was a perfect sized party. However, his list of friends is growing and I love that he wants to involve so many people into his special day. It is my deep desire for him to have good friends. Friends he can count on.

So why do, I shiver when I think about throwing him a party? Perhaps it because every time I have taken a Spiritual Gifts Test I fail the hospitality portion. It is not my gift. It is something I really have to work at.

With all my thoughts the last few months about good neighbors, feeling mommy guilt and wondering if my kids will feel cheated because they didn't have a swing set or a painted colorful room as of yet, I have to ask myself, can I cheat my son out of a nice 5 year old birthday party because I am having heart palpitations at the idea of a party with more than 3 kids!? 

I know the answer to this question.

Really What is the Quest For?

Is the quest really for "time for myself" or is to feel less guilt?

That is what I need to process.

Here is a list things that leave me feel the mommy guilt...

Too many times I make my kids wait so I can read or post something on the computer.
I think my son might get too much computer/TV time
I think my daughter gets too much TV time (granted they are watching quality/educational shows)
Frequently, they don't get dinner until after 6:30pm
I am asked constantly to play and I almost always find a way out because I just don't know how to play trains the way he really wants me too.
I don't like to play.
I don't pray enough with my kids.
Right now as baby girl is simultaneously cutting 4 teeth, I let her pretty much eat whatever she asks for. Though I think there is a limit in how much dried pineapple an almost 2 year old should eat.  
As fun as she is, I can't wait for nap-time so I get stuff done.
Not going outside or forcing them to go outside on a beautiful day.


This list is not comprehensive by any means I could go on and on. I haven't even touched on my temper and tone in which I sometimes correct them with.

I am not sure that finding time to make felt flowers will ease the guilt of our terribly unscheduled mealtimes.

So what will?

Accepting or believing that I am feeling guilty for ridiculous reasons or setting a better meal schedule.

So I process....

Indiana Momma

I watched a documentary about the real "Indiana Jones." It got me thinking. How are mothers like Indiana Jones?

For me, I am on the search for a "Holy Grail," that sacred peace that will preserve my sanity as dirty dishes fly at me like rolling boulders and I trip over cars and trains like booby-traps in a dark cave. All in a quest for that one thing that eludes me - time for myself- actually guilt-free time for myself.
A daily quest that should be easy to find everyday but more often than not I crawl into bed having not found it. 

Time to read.
Time to pray on my knees.
Time to blog, quilt, make felt flowers.
Time to exercise without 45 pound weights deciding to jump on me as I make feeble attempts at crunches.

These sweet moments of bliss usually just get started 5 minutes before nap time dramatically ends.

It always seems more important to be doing something else dishes, laundry intermixed with facebook and news posts. The latter two suck me in with a force too hard to resist for someone slightly lonely, terribly tired and definitely procrastinating on figuring out what to have for dinner.

It serves more as a pseudo-time for me - speaking specifically of facebook- because it fills a small void for connecting with people but also brews up a terrible case of mommy-guilt.

Seriously something has to give, some new schedule or paradigm shift needs to happen because unlike Indiana's quest for archeological treasure my quest is not so out of reach if I could only manage my time better and or use a little self-control.

The American Flag Pin

So I took the kids with me to the PA primary election in May as we usually do. They (the election workers) have come to recognize us and enjoy watching the kids come and grow.

This time they gave Little Boy an American Flag pin. He loves this pin. For awhile he as wearing it everyday. He calls it, "My American Flag pin" and he makes me proud. I think he understands that it is something special and he frequently points out "American Flags" when we are out driving. Doll-baby does now too.

These small things are what will keep the American Dream alive. Kids like him who will grow up understanding that the flag and everything it stands for is precious. It is something we must be careful with and protect.

As it is Veteran's Day this week we are working on some projects for the Veterans nearby. I am thinking of my Grandpop and hoping I am doing him proud.

I wish that all little kids were learning this. 

More Millies

This summer a very dear woman, Millie, went to be with Jesus. When I was less than 2 year old, I would climb the fence to her house so I could get strawberry milk. Millie would call out to my mom, who had been cleverly coerced to fetch a "cup of water." Just that quick I was over the fence!

One day, Millie invited a very sad, young mom to a Bible study. A mom at a crossroads in life after giving birth to a disabled son. My mom became a Christian because of Millie's invitation. So, I was raised by a Christian mom because of Millie. Millie left an indelible imprint on our lives.

Millie is certainly not the only neighbor who left an indelible mark on me.  All the neighbors on my street Mr. and Mrs. V, Jeanie & John and all those that extended from them. They were neighbors you could count on to watch over us, look out for us and revel in watching us grow. We watched fireflies from each others porches, we shared cups of sugar and exchanged small Christmas gifts. Mr. V let me sprout seeds in his greenhouse, Mrs. V was always interested in my "love life" and I am still giving Jeanie bouquets of violets when I can time it right. All these "Millies" - these precious neighbors who were family by choice.

I find myself wondering - perhaps sounding more like mommyguilting- over whether my children will have Millies in their life. Neighbors they can count on. Friends who will watch out for them and enjoy them as they grow. I know that there will be Millies at church but somehow a Millie next door is what I crave for them.

We had a sweet elderly neighbor for a season, but she has passed away and unfortunately my son who usually remembers everything doesn't remember her.

So I wish there was something I could do to ensure they have Millies in their lives. All I can do is leave it to God and hope that His plan eventually will involve neighbors who will love and invest in my kids like my childhood neighbors did. So when they are 40 they can recall great memories of great aging people. If my desire for them goes unanswered for whatever reason, I hope I see all the other Millies out there for them who just may not be next door with a glass of strawberry milk, but in some unsuspecting place

Processing....

Post processing.

Reading over this draft I realize that it isn't just my craving for my kids to have good neighbors and playmates. I want good neighbors again too. I want people who I can connect with, entrust my kids to, and who have that cup of something that I may need. I want my porch to be inviting. I want neighbors who are friends. This has just not been my reality for the last 6 years. I want Millies for my children, but I also want them for me too. You can never have enough Millies.

The Process

Because Glory, Hope and Wonder Abound
I try to come back to the root of this blog, which sometimes gets lost. After all, its over 8 years old now.

I believe Glory abounds.
I believe Hope abounds.
I believe Wonder abounds.

At this stage in life Wonder probably abounds more than anything.

I wonder what we will have for dinner.
I wonder when baby girl will wake up from her nap.
I wonder if I will get 5 minutes in the bathroom alone.

I wonder if homeschooling is the best for us... for me.
I wonder if I am doing enough.
I wonder ... a lot.

Sometimes it may come off as worry more than wonder. I find it is frustrating that this is what is communicated more.

So I need to process. For me to process, I need to write. The trouble is time. But I have to find the time so I can get back to the abounding hope and glory...

So bear with me as I process. ... and finally post some drafts that I worked on this summer.

Visitors From Heaven

Last month marked 20 years. Wow 20 years since my younger brother went from being a "Visitor from Heaven" to a resident. He was a catalyst of spiritual growth for so many people and now his deformed body is perfect.

It happened that his anniversary fell during a week of remembrances for other visitors from Heaven.

October 15 was National Infant Loss Day. A day when we remember those babes full grown and lentil-sized who visited this world briefly. Too briefly.

It was also the week that baby Shane was born and within hours passed away - as was expected.

Shane's parents Jenna Gassew and Dan Haley found out mid-way that their son was not well and would not survive. So they made a lifetime of memories during the rest of her pregnancy doing all those things they would have done with Shane had he lived. Trips to the shore, baseball games, train rides...

In the process, they showed the world just how precious life is. A tiny life others might have chosen to remove, they chose to enjoy. Showing us how important each tiny life it. They cherished whatever time they had with the love of their lives. 

All these converging occasions of sadness, remembrance and also deep love within the same week.  I recalled the song we played at my brother's funeral. A song, I had heard for the first months before his death, but knew in my heart it would be played for him one day soon.

A Visitor From Heaven, by Twila Paris. A song for Little Louis, Shane and all the little Lentil-sized babes waiting for us - home in Heaven.

Chestnut Kerfuffles

I have a sorted history with chestnuts. You might say there have been some chestnut kerfuffles. I have a new kerfuffle I can add to my chestnut "bowl".

A couple weeks ago, a friend gave my husband a burlap sack of chestnuts from his yard. I thought it strange because years ago, I was told that all the chestnut trees in our area died off in a blight. So either his survived the blight or its a newer tree. Then, I put them on top of the fridge and didn't much more of them. Until today.

So, today I noticed these grubby looking white worms crawling on my kitchen floor - more than a dozen. YUCK. Ruled out the box of apples. Ruled the battered box holding the apples. Ruled out the yard sale book shelf I had just brought in. Did some googling could be a moth larva? Looked at my cornmeal, that's fine. Started looking on top of the fridge and then I saw the bag of chestnuts. Hmmm maybe, open it up there they were. Back to google. Yup, Chestnut Weevil larvae. The blight that wiped out chestnut trees in our area a long time ago. All afternoon while conducting my research and looking for the infestation site I couldn't help but think this is just my luck and remembering my first Chestnut Kerfuffle.

Which frankly I was shocked that I never blogged about this! I thought for sure I had.

Actually caught one crawling out of its little chestnut hole.

From September 2006

The Chestnut Kerfuffle

Only close friends and family know about my kerfuffle last year of roasting chestnuts in the oven.

It all began one fall afternoon while taking my after work walk in the woods, I noticed these beautiful chestnuts on the ground. Like a true hunter and gatherer, I squirreled away chestnuts into every pocket on me. I set them in my blue pottery bowl for decoration. Then, one night I decided it was time to roast them. So I read online how to roast them. Careful to cut slits in them so they wouldn’t explode, set them in the oven and then went upstairs to make a phone call.

As were talking, I heard an explosion. “Gotta go, I think my chestnuts are exploding!” I hung up and ran. I heard a few more explosions and turned off the over. Then carefully, ever so carefully I opened the oven door only to have a chestnut come exploding past my face leaving chestnut flicks in my hair! Quickly, I shut the oven door -not sure whether to laugh or cry. I almost lost my eye to a whizzing chestnut!

I was so disappointed. Most of my chestnuts exploded in the oven the others were so charred that they weren’t edible because I couldn’t get them past my nose! Eventually, I got the oven cleaned out; vowing, “Next year I will try again and make deeper slits so they don’t explode!”

So last week, I gathered in plenty. Filling all my pockets and emptying them in my blue pottery bowl when I got home. They look so pretty and fall-ish. I anticipated lighting the fireplace with my new roommates some night and roasting them there. Like in that Christmas Carole, “Chestnuts roasting on a open fire…”

That brings me to yesterday. I stopped by the creek before I went to pick up a friend at the train station. “I’ll pick up a couple for him,” I said to myself.

“I picked up some chestnuts for you.” (I had told him the exploding chestnut story.)

And I presented him with 2 chestnuts. Guess what his reply was?

 “These are buckeyes!” (He is from Ohio home of the Ohio State Buckeyes he would know.)

He said, “These are poisonous; only squirrels know which side is safe to eat.”

Note to self: Before foraging in the forest for food verify with an Audubon Society book (or google) before you eat anything!

Needless to say there won’t be any roasting of my “chestnuts” this year, which will prevent the accidental deaths of my roommates and me. I’ll buy my chestnuts at the grocery store where things are nicely labeled!

                                                   ------------------------------------

The sort of funny thing is that the reason why I know about the chestnut blight and why I thought it strange that there are local chestnuts available is because I happened to mention to my co-workers at the time that I had found "chestnuts" at the park. They had thought it strange because they knew about the chestnut blight and how there are no chestnut trees in the area anymore. I just figured one tree survived because I was sure they were chestnuts.  So, now I have a container of Chestnut Weevil larvae that my children think are "cute" that I need to dispose of and a bowl full of real chestnuts that I need to roast or something before they explode with more weevils.

                                                           
  Full circle folks full circle. 

Exploding chestnut kerfuffles.

Dethroning a Queen

I come from a long line of beekeepers. I love the little gals. I just don't like them buzzing near my ears. So I am always reluctant to "go through the bees" when I am asked.

Recently, I said yes. Be Brave Be 40. You know?

I donned my suit.

I held the box with the new queen.

I tried to stay calm despite the buzz bys.

I survived. The old queen - not so much.

(Actually, the new queen was replaced too. She wasn't doing too much.)

Ironically, the same day I went with dad to replace the queen, there was a terrible accident nearby involving a tractor trailer full of beehives. It broke my heart because so many were lost.

 I appreciate these little workers. Delicate and so vital to our ecology and agriculture. They need to be protected and cared for and sometimes that requires the dethroning of a Queen and maybe a better truck driver...
 

 

Sunday Projects

On a Sunday afternoon, I find it quite blissful to craft. I will throw caution to the win and not worry about dishes or picking up. 

As luck would have it Rosie girl was down for a good nap. That called for Play-dough for the the boy and felt flowers for the mom. That was the plan. That was what we did we made a huge mess between the 2 of us. Of course I was left to clean up the bulk of it.

 

 The results were worth it though!

Mother's Day Project

                                                         

I think we call this a Pinterest Win. On Mother's Day we went to Lowe's and picked up

terracotta pots and potting soil. Hubby assembled.

I just needed to figure out what flowers to put in there. A couple days later, I went out looking for flowers and this is the final project.

I liked the stacked look so much I did this variation on a theme with my herbs... I am pleased with the outcome. Though, I do need to stay on top of keeping them watered.

The Lost Figs

The cries could be heard around town. It looked as though all the figs trees had not survived this cruel and cold winter. There was talk of just digging them up.

I had to have a look for myself when I was in town. It looks like time and a little more warmth is what they needed. Little buds of green were emerging. What a relief. Though many branches were lost. There is still hope of figs this summer. We can hope to "taste and see that the Lord is good".... good to the fig. Good to those that love this tasty morsel.

The Raisin

So I noticed as I was getting in the car that there was an ant trying to carry a raisin. Go figure.

Call it faith.

Call it perseverance.

Go ant, haul that thing.

Show us how to move mountains.

Show us how to do what looks impossible.
 

Makes me think of this wise Proverb...

Proverbs 6:6
Go to the ant, you sluggard; consider its ways and be wise! 

A Lovely Day Off

"What's a weekend?" 

 

I wonder that myself. Violet has a life of leisure. She probably had someone else nurse her babies too. I on the other hand... Don't get much time to myself. I am always on call and I am frequently being called. Many times and simultaneously. It can be draining.

Thanks to my mom, I got to go to the Downton Abbey display going on at Winterthur without my sweet children. The weekend prior we all went. The children were not enthused and I took my little raisin eating tyrant out and had a little pity party because I had been looking forward to seeing this and I could not get a good look at anything.

So to have the chance to go back and read everything and examine the details was so nice.

It was also a lovely day to walk and enjoy the grounds the weather was perfect and I sat for some time watching other people's kids feed the koi fish and I didn't have to worry about them falling in- like I would have if my kids were there.

I enjoyed watching others enjoy themselves. I walked down to one of my favorite spots. A spot that beacons to a kind of girl who likes to walk on rocks that have water coursing near it - even if it is only a little trickle.

It didn't matter to me that I didn't have on appropriate shoes.

I made the most of the day. I soaked in the sun. I revealed in the breeze.

I enjoyed my break away so I could recharge my weary self.

Earn This

In honor of D-Day.

Least we forget.

Many men did "Earn It" and continue to earn it until the end.  Like the one who refused to meet Obama while at the Normandy Memorial . Or the one who snuck out of his nursing home to go to the memorial. Or the one who parachuted into the same field he did 70 years ago. These are the men of the Greatest Generation.

I just can't help but wonder what the world will be like when the Greatest Generation are all back together again.

you an skip to minute 1.

Memorials

Little Boy and I were walking down the street while visiting my parents.  It was the Eve of Memorial Day weekend, which means in my hometown the street names change to honor the fallen soldiers from the town. So I pointed out to him that this week, this is "Sgt. George Snyder St" because his aunt and uncle lived nearby. (They try to pick the street closest to their home or a relative's home)

I explained to him that Pop-pop John and George knew each other when they were young boys and that George died in a war and that Pop-John went on to have kids and grand kids and live a good life to honor his friends who didn't make it home. Now Pop-pop John and George are back together with Jesus and the angels in Heaven.

Of course the whole time I am misty-eyed and struggling to speak but I carried on because that is what Grandpop would want. He would want me to teach Little Boy in the simplest of terms. Then, every year as we encounter Memorial Day, go over it all again with him so that the knowledge, gravity and reverence for these lost men and now the departing great-grandpops will plant itself deep in his heart.

That is the kind of heart I want for him. To remember the sacrifices and legacies of those who went before him so they won't be forgotten.

Why I Love Being Your Mother - 2014

Last year, in honor of Mother's Day, I reflected on Why I love being a mother to Walter & Rose....

I did it again this year.
 

walter

You just typed that all on your own. You are so smart and learning so much. I am so proud that you know almost all your letters, can count, know colors and shapes. You are learning to share pretty nicely too. You like to remind me all the time that you are a "good helper" and you are a good helper.

You say the funniest things. Lately, "in the warm spring I'll do xyz...."  "In the warm spring, can we do abc....?" "In the warm spring, I did _____." You are all about the "warm spring" and it is pretty funny to me. I guess after the longest winter and the coldest spring -ever in your life and maybe mine too- the warm spring is something that seems a little bit down the road.

So here it is Mother's Day and the warm spring is sort of here. In a little while,  we will clean out the sandbox and put in fresh sand for the warm spring and the hot summer. You will probably say, today, a dozen times or more, "What choo said mom?" You say this all the time and I am really beginning to wonder if I should have your ears checked again. But Dad and I chuckle many times to hear you say this, even funnier is the response we get when we try to correct you.   

We have spent the school year going through the ABCs and Bible stories and I am proud of what you have absorbed. You say you want to have Jesus in your heart. We listen to Christian music during the day and I often hear you singing along. This melts my heart.

You are at times challenging as you learn self control and choosing to make the right decisions. When I look at your handsome face, bright eyes, happy smile and loving heart, potty training, temper tantrums, refusing to try new foods are outshined. You are a snuggler. You play hard. You play well with your trucks, trains, computer games, and sandbox. You are all boy. I am happy that you are my boy.

Rosie,
My little girl. Still a baby in so many ways and still on the verge of being 2 in so many ways. You want to do things yourself. You know stuff. I say go get something you go get it. If I say get off the coffee table or you will go to your crib you get it. I am astounded by what you know. You have become a little word factory. "Come baack Wawa!" "go daddy"  "milk" "Up/& down"
Anything with buttons you pick up and hold to your ear like a veteran phone talker,  say "Hallo" bark out some commands and then "ga-bye".

You are a dancer and a singer. You can play in your crib and talk to Violet and I think you are now singing along with her. You give great hugs and kisses but not every time you are asked. I love to sing to you about being the "sweetest Rose that grows" and as I get ready to put you to bed I know you are ready when you say "good night" and pretty much hurl yourself into the the crib. 

You crack me up when you blow a raspberry on my belly. You give me great joy when I hold out my arms and you run to me and give me a hug. I love that you play with cars & trucks, while wearing a tutu. As much as it drives me crazy to find shoes all over the house, I love that you are playing dress-up with my shoes.

You babies are the joy of my heart. Its not always easy, but you are always worth it.

Love,
Mom mom

30 Minutes Left

On December 29, 2013 I drafted:

"There are 30 minutes left of Breaking Bad - Thank God - What a show.

What can I say. Good writing. Bad people.

Walter White aka Heisenburg is "Everyman" One normal average guy becomes an emotionless killer and thinks nothing of it.

No thought of the destruction he brings."  Thank God not "everyman" forsakes humanity for personal greed.

There was 20 minutes left and I said to my husband, "There is no way they can wrap this up in 20 minutes!" Thank God for google... Oh look at that there is still another season of 8 shows."

So we weren't done. AHHHHHH
 We had to wait to see the end. And what an end. I was satisfied though. 

I am glad it is done. I don't like seeing the deterioration of a soul on TV or in reality.

The Real Rahab

Thoughts from Bible Study.

So I really love the story of Rahab and of all the women in the Bible she is the one I am most interested in meeting someday. She was a prostitute. I can imagine that she was shrewd and street smart. She knew what was true and what was just a cheesy line. So what I wonder about her is what did her family think of her line of work? Was it a cultural norm? Or where they just a little embarrassed by her occupation? Had she been cut off? Was her line of work honored in her culture?

She ended up being a key player in God's grand design. She was the woman who saved Joshua from the kings men as she lowered them out a window and down a wall. How many times had she done that little trick? It was the right thing for her to do and she knew it. Obviously, she saw something in these men that was different than all the others. She probably saw that the God they worshiped was no joke. She may have thought, "He is the real deal I want to be apart of that plan."

She negotiated safety for her family:
“Now then, please swear to me by the Lord that you will show kindness to my family, because I have shown kindness to you. Give me a sure sign that you will spare the lives of my father and mother, my brothers and sisters, and all who belong to them—and that you will save us from death.” Joshua 2: 12-13

Deal making may have been a particular skill in her line of work. Did her family appreciate this deal? Was this a challenge for her to ask? Were they surprised that she thought enough about them to try and save them? Did they deserve to be saved?

God obviously saw something in her. She evidently gave up her line of work and settled down with an Israelite because she became a famous great great great ... grandmother to the baby - Jesus.

I like a God who takes a prostitute and makes her a heroine and a great...grand mother of the Savior.