Simple Pleasures

I love Rubbermaid.

This is not a sponsored post, or anything like that. To the best of my knowledge, Rubbermaid does not know I exist. This is just me sharing my joy in what I was able to do yesterday.

Until my MIL makes good on her promise to make toy chests for the girls, their toys are currently being stored in a Rubbermaid tote. Yesterday, after I finished cleaning the house and we were done with lunch, I dumped out all the toys (I needed to sort through them anyway - they were starting to take over the house), put the girls in their bathing suits, took everything outside, and filled the tub with water. Then I sat in my director's chair and (after having to move when one of the nursery workers turned on the sprinklers - without so much of a word of warning, though she walked directly past my chair and smiled and said hi to the girls on her way), and watched the fun.

(They will most definitely not be able to do this next year - I'm still not sure how they managed to both squeeze in there!)

After they got bored with the water, I dumped it out and fetched some snacks. Gracie still found a fun way to play with the tote.

(Dancing to the music in her head)

(I'm just ... not even sure where this dance move comes from. It's the Great Cracker Dance!)

It was a fun way to spend one of the last hot days of summer, and Joy is already asking me if we can do it again today.

We probably will!

(ETA) I keep coming back to my own post and snorting with laughter over that last picture. What a kid!)

Monday Medley

It's supposed to be in the upper 80s and lower 90s here until Friday. Um, what? Where's my fall, my chance to wear jeans and boots? Where are my nights fit for sleeping? I'm trying to stay positive here, think "Come February, I'll be happy to remember these golden days," but really, I'm just ready to be done with heat.

However, yesterday we went to the park, and Carl and the girls played while I found a chair in the shade to sit in and read and watch them. It was so pleasant, and if we could spend part of every day like that, I'd say bring on the warm weather.

Unfortunately, we don't have a yard, nor do we live close enough to the park so that I can walk there with the girls (well, the distance is bearable, it's just the lack of sidewalks on a busy highway that's a problem. I did it a few times, but it got too dangerous to keep up), and with all the overtime Carl is working, he's never home early enough to go have fun.

So yeah. I'm ready for cooler temps.

In other news, Gracie is now staggering all over the place, beaming proudly the entire time. Joy likes to come up beside her and pace with her, while Grace looks at her like she's crazy. She's probably thinking, "Sis, you can run, why are you walking so slow? Once I'm a little sturdier on these feet, ain't nothin' gonna slow ME down!"

We changed Joy's drinking habits, giving her more liquid earlier in the day and cutting back how much she drinks in the evening, and she went three nights in a row without having an accident in bed. Then yesterday her final molar (final molar, people, she is almost done with her teeth!) started moving again, and so I was awakened at 1:30 this morning by a little munchkin with wet underwear.

I'm actually quite relieved to know that is has been, in fact, the teeth that are wreaking havoc with the potty training, not just Joy's stubborn nature. It gives me hope that once this final molar is all the way through, she'll have it all down in just a few days. She's practically got it all now, even, except for the aforementioned nighttime accidents and a refusal to go poop in the potty. There too, she was starting to do better until the molar started moving again, so I have hope that it will not be a problem once she is fully teethed.

I hate teeth.

I managed to get going on the editing this weekend. Carl and I talked extensively about it, and I decided I needed to add three separate passages along with some basic cleaning and editing. As of yesterday, two of the three have been written, and I just need to do the final passage and then get to work on the little (translate: boring) stuff.

Question for all of you: a couple of the people who looked over the MS mentioned that they thought it was too "smart" for the young adult reader of today. One mentioned that the words I used were too unfamiliar, and one that the grammar was too complex. Examples: the girl who didn't like all the language specifically mentioned "feckless" and "largess" as two words she thought were too unfamiliar. The grammar person didn't like my use of semi-colons and colons.

Personally, I really can't stand the thought of "dumbing down" my work to make it more "accessible" to the reader of today. I also don't think it's necessary. Carl didn't recognize some of the words I used, either, but he said not knowing what they were didn't take away from the story, and he could usually figure out their meaning from the context. As for grammar, I reluctantly concede that I am probably too fond of complex sentences (and I have had an illicit love affair going on with the semi-colon for years), but I don't like the idea of simplifying my grammar just because I'm going to assume my readers are dumb. Most of the best (not necessarily the most popular, but the finest) YA fantasy writers use beautiful, rich language and complex sentence structure, and it only enhances the story.

However. I ask for beta readers to get other people's opinions, and it would be folly to dismiss those opinions without at least considering them. So, my fellow writer and reader friends, what do you think? Is it self-indulgent to keep the language and grammar as is just because I like it, or should I stick to my guns? After all, it's not like anybody suggested I throw a gratuitous vampire or werewolf in there just to make it more popular!

Editing Update

Naturally, I did not get started on the editing yesterday.

I haven't had any coffee since Saturday morning, and I've been getting up in the middle of the night every night this week to take Joy to the potty, strip her bed, and put fresh sheets on. Nighttime potty training is very difficult when you have a child who will not wake up enough to go potty at night once she's been put down, but only wakes after she's already wet herself. (However, we were able to give her less liquid yesterday in the hours leading up to bedtime, and she slept from 7:30 to 7:00 and was completely dry this morning when she got up.)

Anyway, I'm tired. All my exhaustion seemed to collapse in on me yesterday; by 12:30 I was on the couch, feebly playing peek-a-boo with the girls. Thankfully, all the waking up in the middle of the night seems to be tiring Joy, too, because she was happy enough to crawl onto the couch with me, while Gracie popped up and down behind the coffee table and thought it was all a fun game.

I was too tired, though, to do any writing that required half a brain. I managed to finish Cup of Joy, my Jane sequel, and I did some more plotting for the two Gwen sequels I have planned, but nothing at all on The Eldest Daughter. Oh, and I was able to start on the second wrist warmer I'm knitting for myself. I started the pair last winter - wouldn't it be nice if I could have it finished before this winter?

I went to bed at 8:30, slept until 4:30 when I thought I heard Joy (it was a dream, I guess, because she was asleep when I checked on her), went back to bed and slept again until 6:30. I feel much better today. Plus, of course, it's Friday, which means that Carl will be home at his regular time, not the almost-hour-later he's been getting home these days (darn mandatory overtime), and he only works half a day tomorrow, which will hopefully be the last Saturday he has to work at all.

Bring on the editing!

Itching Fingers

My fingers are itchy.

So itchy that yesterday I picked up my long-neglected Jane of Lantern Hill sequel and grimly pounded away another chapter of that. I'm actually nearing the finish for that story ... that goodness. Superior Jane is good fun, but I think I prefer her as a side character than the main protagonist. Her very superiority tends to rankle after a while.

If this goes on much longer, I might be forced to resume my Mansfield Park sequel, which is not as irritating as the Jane story, but still does not flow very easily ... hence its neglect in the past year.

I find, the longer I write on any kind of regular basis, the more impossible it is for me to not write for any length of time. When I finished The Eldest Sister, and then almost immediately thereafter finished Season of Song, I was out of current projects. I didn't want to start any new projects at once, because I knew, once my beta readers got back to me, that I was going to need to do some editing on The Eldest Sister. I don't like having to switch gears, from starting a new project, to editing an old. Besides, I have some research on medieval times I would like to finish before I start writing the next story.

Two of my betas (and Carl) got back to me with marvelous promptitude. The other two ... I sent them the MS, and have heard nothing since. I've been trying to be patient, since I hate nagging, but ...

My fingers are itchy.

So today I sent out a general announcement on Facebook stating that I was going to start the editing this week, whether I had people's opinions or not, and then I even specifically mentioned the two (and my dad) who offered to look at it, warning them that this is their last chance to let me know if they think changes should be made.

Part of me feels guilty for bugging them about it, but really, when you volunteer (I only asked people in general, there was no specific requests for anyone), you ought to be prepared for a little bugging if you don't actually follow through.

In any case, if I don't hear back from them by tonight, oh well, they had their chance. Tomorrow, so long as life cooperates, I am starting the edit.

Because my fingers are itchy.

Together

My favorite part of the entire day, most days, is early morning. Joy has come running to find me, so she can use the potty, and then she crawls into bed with me while Carl gets up to get ready for work. We just lay there, cuddling and dozing, until either Gracie wakes up and gets in with us, at which point things simply become chaotic (yet still fun), or until Carl is back from the shower and we all get ready for breakfast.

Joy has never been much of a cuddler. Not like Gracie, who still manages to melt my heart utterly every time she snuggles her head into my shoulder with that little sigh of contentment. Yet lately, every morning, we get that half hour or so of time just resting together. My cheek against the top of her head. Her toes pressed against my knees. Sometimes we both roll over, so our backs rest against each other.

I listen to her breathe, and the sound she makes sucking on her fingers (which habit we are going to start breaking as soon as her final molar is through), and marvel at the thought that she is almost three, this baby who I swear just yesterday was placed in my arms for the first time.

My cousin just had her first baby yesterday, a baby girl with a full head of black hair. The picture her husband posted on Facebook shows the same expression on her face mothers have had for centuries the world over when they set eyes on their child for the first time.

Pure, unadulterated love.

When Joy rolls over and giggles because her head clunks with mine, I giggle with her and gather her close.

My baby. My love.

My other favorite part of the day comes when I get Gracie up from her morning nap. She is usually still heavy-eyed, and so likes to sit in the grey recliner with me, suck her thumb, and rest her head against my chest. It doesn't last for long; within ten minutes she is ready to squirm out of my embrace, slide down the chair, and take off to find sister. But those few minutes of snuggling, just like the early-morning snuggles with Joy, melt my heart.

She is a solidly built child; Joy was, and is, dainty and tiny and looked like she would break if you touched her. Gracie, while not that much larger, is built like her Papa. Solid. Her body rests firmly in my lap, keeping me in place, grounding me. 

Her hair is all wild curls, sticking out every which way all over her head, inviting me to rub my nose in them, breathe deep her baby scent, and then lean my head back against the chair and just sit with her against my chest.

Thump. Thump. Thump goes my heartbeat against Gracie's ear, beating out a rhythm of love.

Minutiae

It has been so hard to post anything these last few days. I have been hit with overwhelming exhaustion this past week - yesterday I checked my bag of coffee to make sure I wasn't accidentally drinking decaf (I wasn't). I think this is a combination of mild allergies, small children, and reaction to the overwhelming summer we had. At any rate, it's had the effect of turning my brain to mush. Yesterday I spent probably half an hour staring at a blank screen before giving up and deciding I wasn't going to get anything written.

On the bright side, I have been watching a lot of Gilmore Girls lately! And I've been working on Joy's one-year scrapbook; the pages might not be terribly creative, but at least the pictures and memories are getting recorded. Once I finish hers, I'll tackle Gracie's one-year book, and then I can go back to quilting :-) This business of only doing one project at a time is really working for me!

The girls and I have also been spending a lot of time (most of our time) just playing on the floor. I sit down, and they crawl all over me and around me, and I follow their lead for what they want to do. I confess, I often have a book in my hand while we're doing this, but that's only because they usually lose interest in me periodically, but I don't want to suddenly get up and remove myself from them. I like being down on the floor, at their level, for when they suddenly want to climb on Mamma again.

And I've been planning my revisions for "The Eldest Daughter," as well as plotting out an outline for a new fantasy. (Query: does it count as fantasy if there's not actual magic involved, but it is a medieval-type invented kingdom, no connection to the real world? I still think of that as fantasy, but maybe it's more accurately called Alternate Universe. Hmm. Maybe I should throw in a dragon, just to make really sure it qualifies as fantasy.)

All quite satisfying activities, but not much that's blog-worthy! And I've been too tired for any deep philosophical or theological thoughts.

Hopefully life will provide me with more blogging material soon. Until then, you may expect my posts to be somewhat sporadic!

Simple Days

One daughter is sprawled across the top of the coffee table, reaching for Cheerios. The other has dumped half her Cheerios on the floor and is sitting down eating them. Close to a dozen pair of toddler underwear, clean yesterday morning, are freshly washed and being tossed in the dryer. Bread is "sponging" (I think that's the proper term) on the kitchen counter. Children's music is playing on iTunes.

It's a typical Tuesday - typical any day of the week, really. These days are not filled with anything terribly exciting or profound. We don't do many exciting things. Carl has the car every day, and the roads around here aren't terribly cooperative toward walking (and the back left wheel on the double stroller recently developed a nasty habit of coming off in the middle of a walk), so we don't go out much. Between potty training and teething, the girls aren't terribly interested in fun craft projects (even play-dough!) or games. Right now, we mostly just hang out, play with toys, sometimes color, read lots of stories, and spend a lot of time just cuddling. We practice letters and numbers with Joy; work on walking and talking with Gracie.

It can get boring (for me, if not for them). Sometimes I feel like I should be pushing them to do more, that I should be doing things with them. But then I try, and inevitably, any fun project I plan, they end up hating or having no interest in whatsoever. So, instead of doing, we just are.

And it's okay. On Sunday, we discovered a deer tick had attached itself right next to Joy's right eye. Lyme Disease terrifies me more than any other illness in the world. We had a few hours of utter fear, trying to trust God, before we were able to reassure ourselves that it hadn't attached itself long enough to do any damage. (We are still keeping a close eye on her, just in case.)

After excitement like that, I was quite happy to go back to the kind of days where the biggest thrill of the day comes from Joy remembering to use the potty instead of the floor. Every now and then I stop in the middle of whatever I'm doing, and give the girls a hug and kiss.

Life can be equal parts stress and boredom as a stay-at-home parents of littles. But every now and then, we get a reminder of how bleak our life would be without them, and suddenly everything else fades into perspective.

I am so grateful for these simple days.

Up

The first night we were at the cabin, Lis, David, Dad and I were all outside on the deck while Mom and Carl were inside discussing philosophy. (Or theology. I wasn't really listening.) After a bit, Lis and I decided to come in to play cards, and on my way inside, I stopped to tilt my head back to glance up at the sky.

And I stopped. I stood there, transfixed, until my neck began to ache and I was dizzy. So many stars.

We have lived in populated areas ever since we got married. Usually when we visit our childhood homes we take a moment or two to look up at the night sky, unpolluted by light, but even there I don't remember seeing stars like I did that night on the St. Lawrence. The longer I looked, the more they seemed to multiply. Lis came to see what was keeping me, and then she stopped and stared, too. And we marveled.

I've been finding, lately, that I am more inclined to stop and look up. I spend much of my days with my eyes lowered, to those two little people who are so much smaller than I am, to the work that has to be done, to the mess on the floor, to my own aching body.

And then I look up. Whether it be a sky so thickly peppered with stars that it almost seems as though the black punctuates the light, rather than the other way 'round, or the sun shining greenly through a veil of leaves, or a sky so blue it gives a new definition to the word, there is such beauty and strength to be found. Oddly enough, it is in looking up that my feet become more firmly grounded.

The medievals believed that the heavenly bodies danced in the sky. They were compelled to move, not by cold scientific gravity, but by love for their Creator. They danced to glorify him.

When my days are filled with drudgery and grey moments, I look up, and I watch the Great Dance, and my feet start to remember the ancient melody. I too am compelled by love.

In looking up, I can dance for him.

Family Vacation

My dad's family is from the Thousand Islands region of NY (apparently some of my ancestors even once owned an island out there - how cool is that?), and that's where we went for our family vacation.

Carl and I couldn't stay the entire week (work! work!) but we somehow managed to both pack a lot of sight-seeing AND a lot of just resting into the few days we were there.

We took a boat ride out to Boldt Castle one day and toured around there in the pouring rain (in our defense, it was only sprinkling when we left the cabin).

Still round the corner there may wait

A new road or a secret gate,

And though we pass them by today,

Tomorrow we may come this way

And take the hidden paths that run

Towards the Moon or to the Sun.

Carl and I went to a lighthouse on our date. We couldn't go into it, but we used the telescope nearby and marveled at all we could see. The St. Lawrence is a beautiful river, especially there where it is dotted with islands.

And, what was perhaps the most fun, we sat around at the cabin, lounged on the dock, played cards and drank wine in the evenings, shared meals, laughed together, walked together, enjoyed being together, as a family, someplace that wasn't any of our homes where one person would feel the burden of hospitality. We realized that we've never taken a vacation like this before, with my parents; my sister and her husband; and Carl, me, and the littles. Even our family vacations back when Lis and I were kids were always to Bible Conferences, where Mom and Dad would do things with their friends, and Lis and I would hang out with ours. Not since we went to Maine, when I was nine years old, have we had a family vacation all together like this.

It was long overdue. We're already planning for next year.

"No man ever steps in the same river twice, for it's not the same river and he's not the same man."

I Liiive!

Yikes. I did not mean to be out of the loop for so long, people. I didn't realize until we got to the cottage for vacation that there would be no internet connection. Almost four days! I wouldn't have minded so much if I'd prepared for it; as it was, I nearly went crazy. As soon as we got home last night, I started making supper and checking Facebook and Twitter!

But it was a good vacation. Except for Gracie screaming pretty well non-stop because she's getting something like five teeth in at once. Thankfully, she adores Oma and Grandpa, so Carl and I were able to get some breaks.

In fact, on Monday he and I went on our first real date in two years (not counting the wedding we went to without the girls earlier this summer, because a wedding, while delightful, is not exactly a date). We left the girls with Mom, Dad, Lis, and David, and took off for a few hours of sight-seeing and wine tasting. It was wonderful, and not just because of the wine! From all accounts, everyone back at the cottage had a good time, too. I think sometimes the girls need as much of a break from Mamma and Papa as we need from them!

I'm bone-tired today, though, and very thankful that Carl took today off so we could all recover. It was a long drive to and from the Thousand Islands, even though the in between stuff was grand. I'll post pictures later, once I've had a chance to get them off my camera. We're already talking about doing this again next year!

I'll try to get back to posting semi-regularly (and semi-interestingly) soon; today is just a post to let you know I haven't dropped off the face of the earth, or melted from the August heat.

Is anyone else looking forward to September as intensely as I am?

Joining the BlogHop

I've never done one of these before, but I decided, after four+ years of blogging, it was about time. So I'm joining the BlogHop over at Pensieve!

So, about me: I am a writer, working toward getting a book (or two or three) published; a stay-at-home mom to my two little girls, Joy (almost three) and Grace (just over a year).

(Joy)

(Grace)

I am married to Carl, currently an engineer but working toward attending seminary. Our dream is for him to teach New Testament somewhere, and we're not particularly fussy about where. Even overseas, if the Lord opens that door.

In addition to writing (and much reading), I spend the small amount of spare time I have quilting or scrapbooking or studying history. Here on my blog, I write about all these things, and a few others beside. Feel free to browse through my archives - I always love meeting new friends.

http://pensieve.typepad.com/.a/6a00d8341c61d153ef0133f2dc6071970b-pi

Saving Memories

As a break from the heavier posts I've been doing lately, I thought I'd write about how I save my memories of these days. I've heard many people insist that parents have to journal every day, that they have to write down one memory a day, that they have to mark all their children's milestones, or else they'll forget.

Certainly we will forget, but honestly, I do not have time to journal every single day. I would have to do it at night, after the girls are in bed, and there goes the possibility of working on my MSS, or quilting, or reading, or ... you get the idea. Besides, to be perfectly frank, at the end of the day I'm usually more than ready to forget the children for a couple hours. They are uppermost in my mind all day long, I really don't want to relive the entire day in the few hours I have to myself!

These days are so filled with stress that much of it, I want to forget! I don't really need to remember the teething, the potty training, the bad attitudes, the tantrums ... and the good stuff, that stays with me. The girls playing together sweetly, Joy brushing Grace's hair, the dancing and the singing ... those memories sink into my heart and stay.

But I do know that not all things will stay forever. So I try to find a balance, between recording every moment, and just trusting my faulty, human memory. I take loads of pictures, trusting those to jog my memories of the moments. Someday I even hope to put those pictures in scrapbooks, so the girls can enjoy them too.

And I write letters occasionally to my girls. Before each of them was born, I bought a small, decorated journal, and I use that to write them letters. I don't set myself any kind of schedule - I know people who write once a month, or on every birthday, or something like that, but I can't be that rigid. I write when I have a moment, when I think of it. I tell them what they are doing these days, how much I love them, and some of my hopes for them. Someday I'll pass these journals on to them, and they can read them for themselves. I had thought about giving them to each girl on her wedding day, but I don't want to assume that they are going to get married, so maybe I'll just choose times to pass old letter-journals on, and start new ones. Who knows, probably I'll keep writing them letters of love and encouragement until I die, leaving them something to cherish after I'm gone.

And then, of course, I blog about them, too.

So those are my three methods for saving the memories - pictures, letters, and blog. How do you hold the memories of your days, or do you even try? My mother is one to let the past slip away quite happily ... she lives in the now and the future, and doesn't usually think about what used to be, and sometimes I think that's the healthiest attitude of all. Nostalgia can be a dangerous thing at times. So, do you try, or do you let the past rest? Do you journal every day about your kids? Is your memory strong enough to hold onto these moments without external aid? And if you are one my readers without kids, have you thought about ways to keep memories of them when (if) they do come? Do you think that mothers are more obsessed with keeping memories than other people, and do you think it's natural, or unhealthy?

These are all things I like to know.

In the meantime, a few memories I have saved the last couple of weeks ...

(I asked her to smile. This was what I got. On purpose.)

("Hey, you in there?")

(Big sister reading to little sister. What could be more precious?)