Because Sometimes a Picture Really is Worth 1000 Words

Today's Action:

Organize tax information. Get some idea of what might be owed to our government.

My Reaction:

Confessions

First, I'd like to say thanks for all of the birthday wishes I received here and for all of the wonderful book suggestions given in the fairy tale post...I am a year older, but at least I have lots of reading material to spice up the new year!

Currently, I need an attitude makeover. I'll share a little bit of my feelings here, because I know that other moms read this blog - and hopefully, you'll recognize where I'm coming from.

I hate it when I get this pinched-breath sort of feeling, because I am well aware of the blessings that actually overwhelm my life. And my children are the best and most beautiful of them all...but every now and then, especially when my last solo venture into the world to do something Christie-ish (like browsing in a bookstore) is at best a vague memory (early spring?), the routines get to me. Seriously - do you ever feel like if you have to pick up the pieces of those same puzzles one more time in a twenty four hour period that you might spontaneously combust? It's these cycles that ever hurtle forwards that can get to me - the laundry, the dishes, the crumbs that mysteriously end up all over the carpet (eight times a day! I don't understand how they sneak this stuff out of the kitchen!), the tussles between toddlers that invariably end in tears and the guilty party hiding under the bed...I feel guilty even writing this stuff down, but it's the truth. Every now and then, I want to run away. Just for a few hours. Just long enough to eat a snack without having to share it and maybe to drink something hot without worrying about small hands overturning the cup...just long enough to get through a chapter of something without an adventuresome two year old trying to yank the curtains down from their rods...if Neil didn't work such a consuming job, there might be more chances for me to have those hours...but he does, so there are these times when the sameness of every day begins to glaze over the joys therein...

Like today.

So maybe venting a little to you, blogosphere, will ease up some of the frustration. In hopes of reminding myself of what I should be saying instead of complaining, I'm including a classic prayer written by St. Thomas Aquinas that I have always loved. I'm also adding a wonderful painting by Craig Nelson, an artist I have just discovered. Definitely check him out.

"Grant, O Lord my God, that I may never fall away in success or in failure; that I may not be prideful in prosperity nor dejected in adversity. Let me rejoice only in what unites and sorrow only in what separates us. May I strive to please no one or fear to displease anyone except Yourself. May I seek always the things that are eternal and never those that are only temporal. May I shun any joy that is without You and never seek any that is beside You. O Lord, may I delight in any work I do for You and tire of any rest that is apart from You. My God, let me direct my heart towards You, and in my failings, always repent with a purpose of amendment."

Zzzzzz

How you know your new story idea isn't going to lift off the ground :

You fall asleep on your keyboard while drumming up scenes (literally, keyboard imprints on face and legs numb from awkward crossed position). Yes, that's right. Your own brain children (ie, characters) bore you into unconscious slumber.

That, my friends, is an undeniable sign.

So....Hot....

The temperature at noon today was at about 107. It is miserably hot here in the southern part of the US this week...opening the front door feels like opening the oven door. When I break a sweat just getting the kids into the car? Yeah. That's too hot for me.

My posts have been scanty this week...we've had much more activity around here than usual. Vacation Bible School began on Monday. It's Sean's first year and he is having a blast...every day he comes home full of information about his lesson, snacks, and games. Christian has been having his own party in the nursery section of the church. New toys and animal crackers! Woo! I was recruited to work in the craft station, so I've been busy with hot glue guns and pipe cleaners. The theme for the week was Water Works Park and so the kids, at least, have been able to cool off outside with water games. I've been really tempted to jump in on one of those!

Tomorrow's the last day. I mentioned this to Sean earlier today and he asked me (again) if kindergarten is next. Sigh. Those wings are spreading...and the Mommy is already feeling some separation anxiety. I guess this is the bittersweet nature of parenthood. We work hard to teach them independence and are so pleased when they can feed themselves and no longer need diapers and drink from big kid cups...but then the day comes that they're ready to go out into the world and use that independence without us. And we know it's good and important that they do this growing up thing - but we can't help wishing it all hadn't gone by quite so quickly.

But Who Gets Custody of Santa?

I find this article from the Telegraph.co.uk extremely interesting. Apparently the North Pole has been claimed by Russia..."veteran Arctic explorer Artur Chilingarov descended 14,000 feet in a three-man deep sea submersible and dropped a Russian tricolor cast in titanium onto the seabed."

People aren't too thrilled with the idea. Despite the agreement made within the boundaries of the UN about this territory, it's bound to get ugly as there's believed to be ten billion barrels of oil waiting for a happy owner to claim them. Add that to the global warming issue and you've got a place important to the future of the earth...(those melting ice sheets, experts are saying, could even open up the infamous North East passage for commercial traffic within eight years).

Who knows what will happen? I just hope it's managed peaceably.

Because the elves do not handle conflict well.

Permission to Whine...

The always fun Luisa tagged me with this meme this morning...and I'll take her up on it. It's not often that we have permission to voice disgruntled feelings. And as my mother says - when it's your mud puddle, sometimes it's okay to wallow in it. (As long as you eventually get out and shower, of course.)

5 people who will be annoyed that I tagged them:

Betsy
Carrie
Eva
Hannah (because it's about time that you started your own blog!)
Amy Jane (I know you don't usually do the meme thing, but maybe this will serve to inspire some future post.)

4 things that should go into Room 101 to be banished from the earth forever:

Child abuse. All forms.

Realistic horror movies that just serve to perpetuate fear and violence. They give me nightmares and make me afraid to be in my own backyard. I don't like 'em.

Barbie Girl by Aqua. I don't know why. I just have detested this song from the first time I heard it.

The last season of 7th Heaven. So. Many. Reasons.

3 things people do that make you want to shake them violently:

Calling other people any variation on the word 'stupid'.

Scraping silverware on plates. (My siblings still do this on purpose just to make me crazy.)

Grabbing a book out of my hands while I'm reading it. Not a good idea. Ever.

2 things you find yourself moaning about:

Writing anything 'official' about my fiction - a query, a synopsis, an outline....the bane of my scribbling fun.

Potty training. Will it ever end?

1 thing the above answers tell you about yourself:

That I have lots of pet peeves? Because I really had so many answers - I had to pick and choose...I think I'm an idealist. I have pictures in my head of how things should be (probably all picked up from sources such as Little House on the Prairie and L.M. Montgomery...) and it stresses me out when reality interferes. For instance - would Anne and Gilbert ever through Saw? I think not. The imagination is meant for creating works that are beautiful and reflect something important about life and faith - okay, so the dark stuff comes into play (and I realize that this is in my own work)....but the important thing is that it has a point. The bad stuff works into good stuff - or at least shows that there's hope. (And the 7th Heaven thing? That just has to do with aspiring for quality and not quantity. Another whole post.)

Why Didn't Ben Franklin Think of This One?

The newest proverb around our house, courtesy of Sean's newest try to convince me that I should really wake up before seven am:

"Get up! It's morning! I need breakfast! Mommy, don't sleep on the sun!"

I'll definitely be turning that one against him when he's fifteen and convinced that ten-thirty on a Saturday is soooo early...

Indulgences

Father's Day weekend was a blast. It was so fun, in fact, that the boys and I had a spontaneous mini-vacation that only ended this afternoon.

We celebrated with Neil and his dad on Friday night...and Saturday morning, after his flight to Colorado left (his band has been playing for a church youth camp all week), we headed up to my hometown to visit with my family. Whenever I'm back there, I have this urge to just stay - there's this wonderful mix of past and present that I don't have anywhere else. There are aunts and uncles, cousins and grandparents - it's an entire community of family that sort of makes coming back here to our house seem a little lonely. And, of course, eating Sunday lunch made by the hands of my grandmother, mother, and my mom's sister makes anything I attempt to cook seem colorless and just plain sad in comparison. If I could commute two hours every Sunday for that meal...I'm telling you it'd be worth the cost of the gas.

As the boys get older, it gets easier to travel - when they were more on the side of babyhood than toddlerhood, it felt like every road trip was a precarious, daredevil experiment (will they cry all night in someone else's house? will they spit up on some one's carpet? will they scream every time someone picks them up?). But now interruptions in routines don't bother them as much - during the past two visits, as a matter of fact, they've barely paid any attention to me at all. They love playing with my little cousins and wrestling with my uncles, talking to my aunts and grandmothers, running through the yard after the go-carts and looking at my grandparents' apple trees and grape-vines...and I love watching them discover how fabulously fun and lovable our family members are.

And now...I haven't posted any pictures in a while, and I borrowed a few from my mom's digital stash...so here are some faces to accompany all of the names.

This is Sean, loving the Mexican food that my aunt and Mom made on Saturday evening. It really was a forget-about-the-fork-and-just-eat-it-by-the-handful kind of good.

Christian felt the same way about the Oreo cake we had on Sunday. You can see that Sean's anxiously waiting for his piece back there.

This was during our last visit - Christian was trying to help my brother out after the go-cart ran out of gas. He's my Hercules.

My siblings - Mandy, Jeremy, and Hannah. Aren't they good-lookin', all dressed up for church?

A few months ago - Sean and my mom.

Quintessential Dad humor. This picture cracks me up.

And I'll leave you with a few big smiles...

Generation Gap

My little brother is spending this entire week with us, which is a lot of fun. My parents are away for a church conference, my youngest sister is with an aunt and uncle in order to babysit their kids during work hours, and my other sister is busy with her job (this is definitely the first time the younger set has all been separated like this - I'm sure my mom will be happy to have her little flock whole again!). It's cool to have Jeremy here - Sean and Christian love playing with their uncle and I'm having a blast getting to have one-on-one time with him. I haven't spent this much time with him since before I left home - which means he was about three years old. He's ten now, so you can be sure that his interests have changed. For example, he no longer gets excited about Blue's Clues and he can take care of his own bathroom activities. Sometimes change is good. Hee.
Anyway, I'm still unpacking boxes here in the new house, and yesterday I found my yearbook from my fourth grade year. Since Jeremy just finished the fourth grade, I thought he might find it interesting to look at my fourth grade picture...he did think that it was pretty funny (I'm definitely all big glasses and feathered bangs).
Here's what wasn't funny: he looked through some of the pages and pointed to a candid classroom shot. In total disbelief - "Your teachers used chalkboards? How old is this yearbook?"
Uh-huh. Thanks, little brother. I suddenly saw myself through his eyes...and he made me recall times in elementary school when my friends would talk about their older brothers and sisters who were married and had kids...and I'd think man, those people are old.
(Deep, deep sigh) Yep. Officially - that's me.

Another Example of How the Best Things In Life Are Free

When I was a kid, my dad was one of those people who would tune his radio in the car to (groans and many rolls of the eyes by my former teenage self) am radio. AM. Talk shows, interviews, weather, music (without words!). And even if he stayed on the FM dial, he'd listen to public radio stations. I can't say that I minded the classical or jazz stations - I've always been a music lover, whatever the style, and my favorite pieces for the piano were the classical ones...however, I felt it my fourteen year old duty to declare myself bored to tears by the rest of it.
Of course the older I got, the more I began to actually listen and enjoy what I was hearing. And now I am officially an addict of the beautiful NPR.
They have a little bit of everything - check out the website and I'm sure you'll find something in your line of interest.
But - here is my new source of bliss. When I'm busy with my hands or fed up with the circles my own mind spins, I can listen to incredibly talented actors read short stories to live audiences...they always pick wonderful stories, both classic and contemporary. I've never been one to listen to audio books (I'd rather have the book in my hands), but these are perfect for chores around the house. Instead of grumbling because I'd rather be reading or doing something beneficial for my brain than mopping the floor, I can happily bring out the mop. Now I can clean and 'read' at the same time.
It's a beautiful, beautiful thing. NPR and Swiffer are just making cleaning downright fun. (And so when an old friend asked me on the phone the other day if I'm being a good housewife [she's a rather compulsive cleaner who branded me as a hopeless closet slob during our dorm-room experience in college] I could smile and truthfully answer - why, yes, yes I am. I've become an absolute Donna Reed.)

Yikes to the Millionth Power

I was all set to write a post today about this past weekend's yard sale and the trip to the new house I made afterwards (because I found honeysuckle growing all along the back border of our property and was whooshed away by the scent like I was Proust eating a madeleine), and I wanted to head over to the Tea And Madeleines site to put in a few thoughts as I've somehow emerged from the end of Swann's Way, but - BUT...

Our move date was just changed - from one and a half weeks away to tomorrow and Thursday.

My first reaction is to go hide with Proust and my laptop somewhere no one can find me.

It's going to be a whirlwind of a week, folks. Fortunately, Neil's boss is the person selling us the house, so he automatically has been given these two days off...but I'm not sure if he can move our gigantic furniture with only my help. We're going to need to enlist recruits.

I've cleaned out a lot of the clutter we're not taking with us (and we did sell the dining room table and chairs that we wanted to leave behind), but as for the rest of it? I've packed maybe six or seven boxes.

So, yeah. Yikes.

I guess I better head off to make sure we're going to have electricity in the new place and other such necessities...hi ho, hi ho, it's off to work we go...

To Have and to Hold, To Let Go and Move On

How do we accumulate so much stuff? It astounds me - I've been storing things in a corner of the garage for this weekend's yard sale, taking things out of the house as I've cleaned and packed...the pile gradually grew, but it didn't seem overwhelming. Until yesterday, that is, when I actually began to spread it out and looked through all of the stuff already in the garage that I need to go through. And this is after the gigantic donation we made to the Salvation Army before Christmas.
I have to admit that this is mostly my fault. I'm a pack rat. Always have been, probably always will be (at heart, at least). This is partially an inherited thing, as my dad is the exact same way, but it might also be a result of lots of moving. Maybe clinging to my stuff was (is) a way to feel like the new place is really my home...I can take things with me, even if I can't take people or places or that swing on my Nanny's front porch...objects come to life for me because of what they represent. (Living hours away from any of my family probably doesn't help this attachment-condition I have.)
I laugh at myself because I get so emotionally attached to material things - the Book-It pins from an elementary school reading program, that pair of pajama bottoms my grandmother bought one summer, the quadrillions of Cabbage Patch dolls and stuffed animals I can't bear to part with (but that rabbit was an Easter gift! that teddy bear was from Christmas '99!)....and now it's not just my stuff. Now it's that lamp that was in Sean's room when he was a baby...that park guide from a trip with Neil...a Winnie-the-Pooh outfit that Christian looked so adorable in...ah. I know that these things are just things...and yet...I love going through a box and having each item bring up a dormant memory. I love that I still have notes from high school friends that we wrote to each other during classes and diaries dating back to second grade...
I guess the issue is that I cannot possibly keep every little memento from my life. I need to do the grown-up thing and prioritize. Sean and Christian's christening outfits? Okay to keep. A bottle of shampoo from the hotel we stayed at on our honeymoon? Not so much.
So here's a goal for this new move: lighten up!
And a goal for my life in general: remember that the people you love are close to you even if you don't see them every day or keep the candle from that birthday cake fourteen years ago....

Dropping the Blogging Ball

I've sort of lapsed in the update department...life in its general messiness has interfered with the usual schedule, but things should be getting back to normal around here soon. The rebound begins tomorrow...and hopefully, there will still be people around to witness it.

When God Colors Outside of the Lines

In the early-ish morning, I was watering my roses and daisies using the water hose (and watering myself in the process. I really need to remember that we need a nozzle that actually completely fits onto the hose.) I was having a pretty good time, actually, enjoying the warm morning and all of my pink and yellow blooms...and I noticed that every time I sent the spray of water soaring in this certain spot by the dogwood tree, a clear rainbow suddenly appeared...just glittering there within the suspended droplets...
I know it's the laws of light and prisms and this and that...but whatever the explanation man has come up with, I prefer to think of rainbows as mysterious, color infused whispered promises of God stretched across the sky...and when they show up in the spray of my average (leaking) water hose, I just have to smile - delighted and dazzled.

Things That Make Me Go Mmmmm

Today was grocery shopping day...I thought I'd share some of my current product addictions...maybe because I haven't had lunch yet and I'm hungry. It is 12:30. My stomach is on a schedule, people.

The latest thing I've tried is the Microwavable Digiorno Crispy Crust pizza - the grilled chicken and vegetable. It is absolutely fantastic - and the boys gobble it up (with the red peppers and spinach. that's the magic of saying 'pizza'.)

Squash. Lightly steamed with a bit of seasoned salt...or the good southern way - fried with a crunchy outside...








These tomatoes are seasoned with basil, oregano, and garlic. Sean and I are huge fans of pasta, and the easiest thing in the world is to boil the pasta, sprinkle Parmesan over the tomatoes (bake at 400 degrees for 10 minutes[thanks for that Rachel Ray tidbit, Hannah] ), and combine.





What kid doesn't love a juice box? Sean and Christian think that they are the coolest items ever. When they're acting like hard headed toddlers and are showing reluctance to come inside after playtime in the back yard, the words juice box will get them running for the door. And I love these, in particular, because it's fruit juice combined with purified water. I still mix all of their juice with water, to make sure they don't overload on sugar, and I love that Mott's does the work for me. Plus, the boxes are super cute!






If you haven't tried a Blue Bunny single, you should. The ice cream is an out of this world sort of delicious, and the size makes it perfectly portioned...so you can have a sensible indulgence. No guilt!


Crystal Light On the Go Packets...they help me drink enough water and get rid of my craving for soda. I like most of the flavors, but I'm currently on a Fruit Punch kick.

Everyone knows that Cheerios are good for you - and these Fruity Cheerios are still healthy for the kids and particularly tasty. I'm not sure who eats more of them, me or the kiddos...

And last, but certainly not least, a magnificent invention pointed out to me by Carrie - the fat free brownie. Trust me, Carrie and I are the queens of brownie and coffee nights...so we've tested our share of chocolate. When she said that she had tried these No-Pudge brownies made with vanilla yogurt, I was skeptical...but she said that they were good, and so I had to try them. She was right. GUILT FREE FUDGY CHOCOLATE BROWNIES. Does it get any better than that? I don't think so, blogosphere. I really don't think so.

In Memory

Buzzdroid's challenge.

If you have a blog, please accept buzzdroid's challenge to remember Virginia Tech's victims and families today, April twentieth.

Here's a quote from Thornton Wilder's The Bridge of San Luis Rey that I came across during research for my novel this morning. It seems to apply:

"A witness to the deaths, wanting to make sense of them and explain the ways of God to his fellow human beings, examined the lives of the people who died, and these words were said by someone who knew the victims, and who had been through the many emotions, and the many stages, of bereavement and loss.
"But soon we will die, and all memories of those five will have left earth, and we ourselves shall be loved for a while and forgotten. But the love will have been enough; all those impulses of love return to the love that made them. Even memory is not necessary for love. There is a land of the living and a land of the dead, and the bridge is love. The only survival, the only meaning."

From The Brains of Others

It's a breezy, bluesy day here in small-town America. We've done the errand running thing today, and I'm hoping the afternoon will be filled with peaceful house straightening, new flower planting (yay!), and at least a solid hour of novel writing.

I'm a bit tired, which I can blame directly on Neil...he brought home the first season of Lost last night and we both stayed up too late watching the first few episodes. I've never seen any of the show and wasn't sure that I'd like it...but it's just so intriguing. Three and a half (I fell asleep) episodes in, I want to know what happens to these people. And why there's a polar bear in the jungle. And what in the world that mysterious monstrous creature is...

Anyway, since my own brain seems to be full of randomness, I figure I'll share with you a few interesting quotes that have challenged me lately...

"And know this: whenever you find yourself writing a single word or phrase or page dutifully and with boredom, then leave it out. Something is wrong. It is dragged in. It isn't your true self talking." ~Brenda Ueland

Also from Brenda Ueland - "For in fiction, Chekhov said, you can pose a question (about poverty, morality, or whatever it is) but you must not answer it. As soon as you answer it, the readers know you are lying, ie forcing your characters to prove something."

And this interesting view of story in our lives...
"You're given a mythology in this life, the way you're given a body, a family, a country. You can reject it if you like - starve it, laugh in its face, run away into exile - but it's still your mythology. There's always the chance of redemption." ~Ariel Gore, from The Traveling Death and Resurrection Show

To elaborate just a bit on the quote on mythology...here's part of the expanded definition provided by Wikipedia: Myths are narratives about divine or heroic beings, arranged in a coherent system, passed down traditionally, and linked to the spiritual or religious life of a community, endorsed by rulers or priests. Once this link to the spiritual leadership of society is broken, they lose their mythological qualities and become folktales or fairy tales. In folkloristics, which is concerned with the study of both secular and sacred narratives, a myth also derives some of its power from being more than a simple "tale", by comprising an archetypical quality of "truth".

Looking at life in 'story' terms is appealing to me...maybe because my entire life, one way or another has been inundated in language, in the arcs of messages. Reading, obviously, brought me into this way of thinking...but I also attribute it to the years listening to my grandfathers and my dad preaching...the Bible, in itself, is a hugely taken for granted literary resource. And when ministers use it to convey some message - it's a powerful thing. Jesus Himself used parables to get ideas across to people - something in us, innately, responds to stories.
So do we each have our own mythology, our own story? I think so. Here are a few more quotes, taken from the pages of The Sacred Romance, that say exactly what I wish to say about all of this.

"We live in narrative, we live in story. Existence has a story shape to it. We have a beginning and an end, we have a plot, we have characters." ~Eugene Peterson

"Our loss of confidence in a larger story is the reason we demand instant gratification. We need a sense of being alive now, for now is all we have. Without a past that was planned for us and a future that waits for us, we are trapped in the present. There's not enough room for our souls in the present." ~John Eldridge, Brent Curtis

On scripture, Mary Stewart Van Leeuwen "...or do you see scripture as being a cosmic drama - creation, fall, redemption, future hope - dramatic narratives that you can apply to all areas of life?"

Frederick Buechner ~ "It is a world of magic and mystery, of deep darkness and flickering starlight. It is a world where terrible things happen and wonderful things, too. It is a world where goodness is pitted against evil, love against hate, order against chaos, in a great struggle where often it is hard to be sure who belongs to which side because appearances are endlessly deceptive. Yet for all its confusions and wildness, it is a world where the battle goes ultimately to the good, who live happily ever after, and where in the long run everybody, good and evil alike, becomes known by his true name...That is the fairy tale of the Gospel with, of course, one crucial difference from all other fairy tales, which is that the claim made for it is that it is true, that it not only happened once upon a time but has kept on happening ever since and is happening still."

And a final note by Brent Curtis and John Eldridge that explains the importance of sharing both our personal experiences and those stories simmering in the crock-pot of our brains...

"It becomes crucial that we become a generation of storytellers who are both recapturing the glory and joy of the Sacred Romance even as we tell each other our particular stories, so that we can help each other, through God's spirit, see His plan of redemption at work in us."

Inadequate Words

I'm sure that we've all seen the footage of yesterday's shooting at Virginia Tech. I was too lost in the waiting room of H&R Block and the tax deadline to watch the news yesterday, so I didn't hear about it until after nine, when Neil got home.


It's always surreal when something like this happens...I know that we're all just so sad, watching the families of those who have lost their loved ones, watching those left behind trying to puzzle out how something like this could happen.


I don't have any wise words or insights. It's a terrible, terrible thing...all I know to do is to pray for these families - and to say, I am so, so sorry for your loss.

History of My Birthday According to the Vast Knowledge of Wikipedia

Luisa tagged me to play this little historical game...and I couldn't resist. A, I love trivia. Especially historical trivia. Especially historical trivia about my very own birthday. And B, I was having a case of writer's block. So the tag was pure serendipity!

1. Go to Wikipedia and enter your birthday without the year:

August 4

2. List three events that occurred that day:

a)1821 - Atkinson and Alexander publish the Saturday Evening Post for the first time as a weekly newspaper.
b) 1944 - "A tip from a Dutch informer leads the Gestapo to a sealed-off area in an Amsterdam warehouse where they find Anne Frank and her family. Her diary was scattered all over the floor and eventually published by her father to become her well- known diary." When I discovered that this was the date of Anne's capture, after reading the diary when I was about nine years old, I felt like my birth date was forever besmirched. That diary made the Holocaust so real - here was this girl, just like me, scribbling in her diary...and she was killed because of hate. It's incomprehensible.
c)1971 - The US launches first satellite into lunar orbit from a manned spacecraft. Ah. Space travel. Did anyone else have to describe what the year 2000 would be like while in elementary school? I'm pretty sure I included easy access to the moon in that description...


3. List two important birthdays:

1792- Percy Bysshe Shelley, English poet...what a life. If you've never read all of the rather (semi-sordid) dramatic adventures of Shelley's life, you're missing out.
1900-Elizabeth_Bowes-Lyon, Queen Elizabeth, the Queen Mother. Today was my first time hearing this - during the second world war, "her seemingly indomitable spirit provided moral support to the British public, so much so that, in recognition of her role as a propaganda tool, Adolf Hitler described her as "the most dangerous woman in Europe." Wow.

4. List one death:

1741 - Andrew Hamilton, American lawyer. I love this quote from his defense of the press, saying that it holds "a liberty both of exposing and opposing tyrannical power by speaking and writing truth."

5. List one holiday or observance:

In El Salvador, it's Transfiguration Bank Holiday. I couldn't figure out what Transfiguration Bank Holiday actually is, but it sounds interesting. Or at least like people might get a day off out of school for it...


Now I'm tagging...Carrie and Betsy - please come out to play!

Of Peter Cottontail (and Santa, too)

On seeing the Easter Bunny at Wal-Mart on Friday -

Sean: "Mommy, why was that Easter Rabbit wearing shoes? Rabbits don't wear shoes."

Ummm...we dress up on Easter, so the Easter Rabbit dresses up with us. Right? I mean, wouldn't that have been a good answer?

Unfortunately, I came up with that answer....yesterday. At the time, I couldn't think of a single thing to do except distract him. ( "Hey, look at that candy the Rabbit gave you! Cool! Can I open it for you? Candy! Yay!" My only other thought was the truth - "Kiddo, that's a really tall dude in a costume. If he didn't have on shoes, you'd see his real human feet instead of big rabbit paws. Plus, this floor is disgusting." [On further thought, why didn't Wal-Mart invest in a costume that had actual rabbit feet instead of letting the really tall dude in the white rabbit costume wear those huge black sneakers? We know you can afford it, Wal-Mart. We all get up to the check out counter with, oh, five items and end up paying forty bucks for it. Every time. Probably several times a month. WE DESERVE PAWS! Or at the very least, a nice shiny pair of dress shoes instead of boat-ish sneakers. Seriously, come ON.])

Ahem.


I'm going to need serious guidance with the Easter Bunny/Tooth Fairy/Santa thing if he continues to be this observant. He's three and already asking these things. I've always been torn on this issue anyway...do I let him believe that these characters are for real until he naturally figures it out on his own or do I leave no doubt that they're fun but make believe parts of holidays? If he asks direct questions, I know that I'll have to honestly answer him...I just didn't expect him to start asking these questions so soon.

I remember knowing from an early age that Santa wasn't real, but I still loved the idea of him. I guess that's what matters to me - not that the boys actually believe that there is a physical bunny in a bow tie dropping off a basket of goodies on Easter morning, but that they can retain a fairy tale-ish view of the world...that they can suspend their disbelief enough to join in the fun of it all...I want them to feel free to imagine.