Family Times and Ties

Family reunion on Sunday = lots of tears, laughter, memories, music, and pictures. And fun, of course. That's a given when the Bates clan gets together.

Seven of the eight siblings with their dad.

The older cousins acting ever so mature with Grandpa. Most of the family pictures from our childhood feature some version of these faces.

Along with the reunion, we spent a lot of time this weekend exploring and working outdoors, having loads of fun in the sun (and even in the rain, when that happened) (which was more frequent than the sun, truth be told).

Three monkeys in a tree.

Grace had a birthday last weekend, and we loved celebrating that with the family. We had my parents, Lis and David, and my grandmother all there, and we had pizza and honey cake on the front porch, with presents and laughter and a pink fuzzy party hat for Grace (hey Mom, I think we left that at the house, by the way). She had a great time, and so did we.

Wearing her new Clarkson (Carl's alma mater) sweatshirt from Grandpa. She didn't want to take it off. I think I need to get her a SUNY Potsdam one so I don't feel jealous.

There were Oma's flowers, of course, and green grass, and little girls wearing bathing suits ("baby suits" Joy calls them) all day long so they could jump in and out of the kiddie pool ("kitty puddle") whenever they wanted. There was a sister night out on the town for Lis and me, there were David and Carl tackling big jobs at Gram's house, there were little people cracking us up with their sayings and expressions every hour of the day, there was shared meal prep and clean-up. And lilacs.

Joy enjoying the lilacs.

There was stress, too, of course, but even that was better because there was always somebody around to take the edge off. When the girls got to be too much for me, I could go upstairs and hide, and I knew someone was watching them. My mom even brought me a margarita, and Carl brought my supper up to me, so I could eat and drink all alone!

Having to clean wasn't much fun, but seeing how delighted Mom and Dad were with the sparkling house afterward, and how inspired Mom was to do some deep cleaning, made it worth it.

We all cried when we had to say goodbye.

The worst part about being part of a close-knit family is when we have to leave.

I'm already counting down until our next visit.

Because I'm Procrastinating ...

I'm supposed to be vacuuming and dusting and cleaning off surfaces. I am trying to help out my parents while I'm home (and, let's face it, make it more pleasant for all of us visiting) by cleaning the house - they both work so much, by the time they get home they don't have any energy to clean. So it piles up, and then they have even less energy, and then after a while they don't even notice until their daughters come home and start tearing into things.

So that's my plan for today. But instead I'm here, tapping away on my computer, eating Mom's delicious rhubarb crunch, and trying to persuade myself that keeping my sister company while she hunts for apartments online is being productive. Never mind that she needs to clean her place, too. I think we're enabling each other to be lazy.

But it's been a busy week, and we're all tired. Lis and David have been helping my grandmother tear apart the house next door so she can live there. I have been trying to keep the girls out of the construction zone and making meals, keeping up on laundry and dishes, doing everything that needs to be done so the workers don't have to worry about it at the end of the day. Quite the vacation, eh?

Most of my dad's seven siblings, as well as assorted other relations, are coming out tomorrow for our family reunion. We're hoping the weather clears up for them, since they are all going to be camping. Carl comes back tomorrow, too. He will NOT be camping, since we luck out and get to stay with Mom and Dad.

All in all, not a great time for blogging. Which is okay, I guess, since it seems not many people are reading/commenting on blogs lately. What is up with that? Wrong phase of the moon, or just end-of-school-year-lethargy? Or is it that Blogger has been acting up? (I'm seriously considering switching to WordPress or some other blogging platform. Anybody have any recommendations? My only stipulation is that it must be free!)

Although not much blogging has been happening, there have been good conversations - with Gram on the way to and from church, with Dad before I head off to bed, with Lis last night when we had a sister night on the town, and ... not much with Mom yet, but she has tomorrow off, so I'm sure we'll get a chance for some chats then.

Family, good food eaten out on the porch, too much coffee and wine and not enough sleep, sunshine and rain and wind and everything in between (but no snow, thank goodness), long conversations and raucous laughter, construction and flowers and cows in the neighbor's pasture ... what more could you ask from a vacation?

Two Years Old

Happy Birthday to my sweet, clever, charming, funny, loving, energetic, beautiful little Gracie.

Two years ago you came into this world after only five hours of labor (a nice change from your sister's twenty, even if it did mean I didn't get to have the water birth I'd wanted because you came too soon after we got to the birthing center). With big blue eyes, a forehead that wrinkled just like your papa's when you were thinking, a tiny little rosebud mouth, the nose passed down from your great-great-grandfather, and lungs of iron (the nurses at the birthing center had never heard a newborn that could scream as loudly as you), you were instantly and forever your own person, a joy and delight.

You made us into a family of four, completed us, and started making your mark on this world from Day 1.

Less than an hour after birth

Post-nursing snuggles

Sister kisses. This picture still makes me melt, after two years!

Wide awake and inspecting the world

Today you are a curly-haired imp, full of mischief and fun, with a wicked twinkle (also inherited from your great-great-grandfather, if the stories are to be believed) in those still-gorgeous blueberry eyes, still my snuggle-bug, still with iron lungs, and still making a mark on this world. Your vocabulary is slowly growing, but you have very few difficulties getting your point across just with your expressions and the few words at your command.

I love you so much, and can't wait to see what the next year brings. I know no matter what, it will be challenging and exciting, and, most of all, fun!

Happy Birthday, darling girl.

Being Serious About Silliness

Taking a page from Adrienne's book (or blog) today, and posting a link to a site I discovered through her: Stuff Christians Like.

Now, this blog has been around for a while, so obviously I'm behind on the times (what else is new?). But yesterday, reading the irreverent, hysterical, and often convicting posts, I laughed so hard I cried, something that hasn't happened in far too long.

I get so easily frustrated at blogs and the like that attempt to infuse spirituality into every single little everyday chore - maybe there are those who can find hanging out the laundry a deep spiritual activity, but that is not me, and constantly reading about those who do ends up leaving me feeling frustrated and uneasily wondering if I'm doing something wrong. I, you see, instead of inserting the reverent into the ordinary, tend to infuse the solemn with irreverence. To paraphrase the Barenaked Ladies, I'm the kinda gal who laughs at a funeral (though as yet I do not have a history of losing my shirt).

Not that I can't be reverent at times, but I do look for the humor in every situation, and so I thoroughly enjoyed finding a blog that did the same with topics many people get WAY too serious over.

Then, because I am also the kind of person who thinks things over too much, I wondered why I found this site so refreshing when I get so enraged at other blogs that mock certain aspects of the church. And I concluded that it is because most of what I've found around the internet tends to be pointing the finger - "Look at how stupid YOU people are. WE are the Christians who have it right." This guy, though, is poking fun at himself as much as anyone else. He's saying more "Hey guys! Look at how silly we all are, aren't we funny and fun!" One of my favorite posts that I read yesterday was his hilarious account of meeting Michael W Smith, and how he totally fangirled all over the place. Nothing in it about "how idiotic people who react in this way are," just admitting to thinking and acting the way most of us do, if we are honest enough to admit it.

It's somewhat like, if I may be allowed a skating analogy here, the difference between people who don't skate or know anything about what hard work it is criticizing the sport and/or the athletes for the sequins, the opera music, the outrageous costumes, anything that could be taken as ridiculous (all while refusing to admit that there are aspects of every sport that could be taken as ridiculous - hello, football, anyone?), and people like Scott Hamilton and Ryan Bradley doing skating routines that rip on the same thing. They aren't putting anyone down, they're poking fun at themselves and their own sport, and not only accepting that there are aspects that are nonsense, but making those very aspects fun.

That was a long sentence. Sorry. (How very AA Milne-ish of me!)

My point, simply, is that it is good to be able to have a sense of humor about yourself and the things you do and ways you think. After all, our God is a God of laughter and joy as well as solemnity and gravity, and I believe he wants us to embrace the ridiculous as well as the sublime. Not to mock it in others, but to keep ourselves humble. And because sometimes, honestly, it's just good to be silly!

To Preschool or Not, That is the Question (Sorta)

I saw this article on the NY Times today, and it got me thinking. The article (for those who don't feel like clicking on the link) discusses Kumon preschool centers, and quotes many experts who say that such extensive prepping of young children for school does not, in fact, help them at all, and may in fact hinder them.

And I am torn. In principle, I agree with everything in the article.

Yet, I have a set of Kumon preschool workbooks that I am going through with Joy right now.

I feel somewhat of a hypocrite, when I put it down in words like that.

My reasons are all sound, though, and I think the problem comes in when we start to go by numbers and statistics, and forget that each child is different and has different learning methods.

The article emphasizes a few times how much better it is to let kids play, to let them play in the sandbox and play with mixing bowls, and explore outdoors, and stare at ants for hours, to develop their imagination ... and my heart cries "Yes!"

The weird thing is, though, that Joy's imagination has developed more since we started doing preschool workbooks. Her confidence has risen, too. Her timidity is getting better under control. We don't have a sandbox, or access to one. We don't have an outdoors to explore. I hand her mixing bowls, and she stares at me in confusion.

Some kids, I believe, develop better with at least some form of structure, even if it's loose. Some kids gets nervous when everything is absolutely unfettered and free. The amount of options overwhelm them, and they can't focus on anything. Joy is one of those kids. I hand her a crayon box and tell her to pick anything, and she starts to get upset. I pick out all the shades of green and let her choose one of those, and she's a happy and smiling kid, ready to color in her picture.

I would not enroll her in a Kumon preschool. That is, I think, carrying things too far. But for some kids, I think workbooks and some form of structure can actually assist their imagination to develop, give them more freedom to explore their world. Joy is one of those kids. Carl, actually, was one (and he certainly isn't boxed in - goodness, he's giving up one of the safest careers in American today to pursue a crazy dream). My sister was one (she also doesn't have a stunted imagination). Trying to force a kid like that to "just be free" might actually stunt their imaginative freedom more than providing them with a loose structure.

Grace, now, I might not ever do workbooks with. She is a completely different personality than Joy. I will probably go ahead and start trying to teach her to read early, because I think that the earlier a kid can read to him or herself, the better for them. But if she doesn't catch on right away, I'm not going to make a big deal of it.

And if, at any time, Joy acts like she is getting frustrated by the books, or it seems they are holding her back or fencing her in, I'll start looking for different options. Certainly the entire week we were at my parents the books didn't make an appearance at all - we took full advantage of being able to be outdoors almost every day, and there was no need to have to sit down and start practicing cutting and pasting and lines.

In all things moderation, right? I think what is more important than following studies, or trying to figure out the one sure-fire plan to make a kid happy and successful in life, is to know your kid, and learn how he or she thinks and feels, and work from there. What works with one won't always work with another. Success and happiness might look different in one than in another. Maybe we should stop looking at everyone else, and trying to figure out how we can imitate them, and start just living our own lives to the best of our ability.

Butterflies and Birds

While we were in MA visiting Carl's mother this weekend, we went to Magic Wings Butterfly Conservatory. I had been there with some friends several years ago (before Carl and I were even dating!), and his mom had been there even longer ago than that, but nobody else had been. It was one of the things on our "do before we leave the Northeast" list, and after Carl's trip to Chicago, we decided it was better to do it sooner rather than later, especially now that the girls are both old enough to really enjoy it.

And enjoy it they did. Joy was a little nervous with all the creatures flying about - she doesn't like unexpected movement, from people, animals, vehicles, or bugs. But after a couple landed on Mamma and Grandma and crawled around, then flew away without anyone doing more than giggling helplessly because they tickled (Mamma, not Grandma), she calmed down enough to have a blast, even if she did flinch every time one flew too close.

Grace was in ecstasies of delight from the moment we walked in. She burst into joyous laughter as soon as she saw the colorful creatures swooping about, and didn't stop until we left. It was the best almost-birthday-present for our almost-two-year-old we could have conceived.

Not only did they have butterflies, but they had a few exotic birds as well. Grace loved those even more than the butterflies, especially the parrot. She shrieked back every time it shrieked (sounding remarkably similar), and then laughed and laughed. She liked them so much that I'm thinking I want to do a bird theme for her birthday party we're having in two weeks. Any suggestions for that? It's just going to be something simple: my parents, my grandmother, my sister and brother-in-law, and the four of us, so I don't need anything really "party-ish." Just maybe a few ideas to make it really special.

This dark blue butterfly was Joy's favorite, and I think mine too. I told her that I would print out the picture, frame it, and we could hang it on her bedroom wall if she wanted. She beamed in response, so I think she's okay with that idea.

The girls came away so happy, and Carl and I came away marveling at the beauty of God's creation. He didn't need to make butterflies so incredible - but he did. Just to make the world more lovely. What a good God he is!

Jumble Sale

To celebrate Cinco de Mayo yesterday, I decided to try my hand at flan for dessert. I ruined two batched of caramel sauce, and then Carl tried and had success, but never having made caramel sauce before he cooked it just a hair too long so that it started to harden as soon as we poured it into the baking dish. It came out mostly all right, and tasted fine (just a little bit rubbery on the bottom), but it didn't exactly look beautiful.

Oh well. It was an adventure. I told Carl that if everything had gone smoothly, we would never remember this particular Cinco de Mayo, but now, we will never forget the first time we ever made flan.

(And can I say how awesome my husband is? When I, nearly in tears of frustration, told him the second batch hadn't worked either, he put away his Hebrew without a word and came down to give me a break while he tried. And he never complained once.)

These two pictures are mostly for my sister, who has asked repeatedly to see pictures of Joy's new bob with bangs. Yes, they really are that crooked, but usually she's moving fast enough, or has brushed them awry anyway that it's not noticeable. I'm still not crazy about the overall look, but it keeps her hair out of her eyes, which is far, far more important than Mamma loving the look of a stacked bob without bangs. Plus I watched how they were cut, so I think I'll be able to keep them trimmed myself. Hopefully not so crooked, and hopefully to a longer length than they were originally. I really hated how short they were at first!

One thing I did while at my parents' house last week was go through some of my old boxes of stuffed animals, dolls, and doll clothes. The girls were beyond thrilled, thinking I was unearthing all these treasures for their benefit alone (well, it mostly was for their benefit, but there were a few things I snatched out of their grasping claws - my old and beloved Snuggle Bear is MINE ALL MINE NOT FOR ANYONE ELSE TO TOUCH).

Grace found an old doll bonnet in one box, and promptly put it on her head. She wore it the rest of the time we were at Mom and Dad's. Forward or backward, it didn't matter to her in the slightest. She is the funniest kid ever.

Joy fell in love with most of my old dolls. In this picture she's holding one of my baby dolls (Little Ann, Lis!), wrapped up in a dolly blanket. Gracie has an old Easter basket I didn't even know I'd saved, and the bonnet, of course. Backward. Joy was so careful and sweet with all the dolls; I definitely know what she's getting for her birthday in November. It was really fun to see my girls playing with toys I loved so well as a child.

And that's my hodgepodge for this week! We're off to my mother-in-law's tomorrow, to celebrate Mother's Day with her. I hope you all have a wonderful weekend, wherever you are and whatever you do!

Rejoicing

I must confess to feeling some mild irritation at a number of my acquaintances (none of you guys, of course!). You see, many of them seem to want to suck the joy out of everyone else. They sneer at those who suggest it is a Good Thing a madman terrorist who murdered people for sport is no longer in this world. They also mocked those who whole-heartedly rejoiced with William and Kate during the wedding.

So, let me get this straight. We can't be glad when someone evil dies, but we also can't be happy when an entire nation comes together to celebrate two young people promising to love and honour each other? So when do we get to rejoice?

I mentioned this to Carl last night, and he laughed and said "We played the flute for you, and you did not dance; we sang a dirge, and you did not mourn." (That's from Matthew 11, by the way - Jesus' appraisal of the current generation, who refused to be satisfied with any answer to the promises.)

The end of that passage concludes: "Yet wisdom is justified by her deeds." I do not want to fall into the trap of appropriating Scripture for my own ends, but in an attempt to be wise, I am going to share some Good Things happening in the world recently that have, in fact, filled me with hope and encouragement.

How beautiful was their wedding? I was supposed to be packing on Friday morning so we could come back home, but instead Dad, the littles, and I sat and watched this for a couple hours. The littles liked the horses the best. Me, I was touched by it all. I think the most moving moment for me was when Kate stepped out onto the balcony and saw the sea of people roaring with happiness. She looked utterly stunned, and I couldn't get over how amazing it was to see so many people united in joy for two people starting their life together. Would that we could all celebrate every marriage so hopefully! (There's wisdom for you, eh?)

I'm not ashamed to admit I cried with joy when I found out that David and White (SPOILER if for some reason you haven't heard the results of the Worlds yet) had won the World Figure Skating Championships. I wanted them to win the Olympics so, so badly, and I am still frustrated that they only got the silver. No American team has ever won the Worlds, and Davis and White earned it. I watched the interview with them afterward, and they said that this gold medal was not just for them, but for all the Americans teams before them, who never received the recognition they deserved. Yes! Such a lovely team.

Another lovely team? This brother-and-sister team, who are absolutely adorable, and never have any moments in any of their routines that make you go "Ewww, they're related." Unlike most brother-sister ice dance teams. No tears for these two, just pure happiness.

No other Americans made out so well at the Worlds, though Alissa Czisny had a personal triumph by coming in fifth, and Yankowskas and Coughlin scored higher than any American pairs in ages at sixth place. But the ice dance redeemed the Worlds for me. Who would have thought, ten or even five years ago, that our only medals would be in dance! We have come a long way.

And in final happy news, this morning as I gave Joy a hug and whispered "I love you," she hugged me back and spontaneously said "I love you too, Mamma." First time she's ever said that without prompting!

What has made you rejoice lately?

Thank You

I had a few blog posts in mind for today - on the World Figure Skating Championships, just ended; on Carl's trip to Chicago; a picture post from our jaunt to the playground this weekend; even just raving about how much I admire the new Duke and Duchess of Cambridge ...

But. On this morning, when I woke up to news that the world has shaken (due to our crazy week, we all went to bed early last night, thus missing possibly the most historic broadcast in ten years), there is really only one thing that is appropriate to say. And so I say it.

Thank you, men and women of our military.


Thank you for all your sacrifices, for voluntarily giving up everything so that we can be safe. Thank for doing what you do even when nobody notices. Thank you for putting yourself in harm's way, not just for our country, but to make the world a better place.

Today I am thinking of all the people I know in the military - those who have left families, missed the birth of their children, lost limbs, lost lives, lost hope ...

For what you do, for what you have done, for what you continue to do:

Thank you.

(Also, I realize this isn't going to be a popular opinion, but, I would also like to thank President Bush. Others reaped the reward, but you set all this in motion. You guided this country through an unprecedented tragedy, and there would be no good news from yesterday were it not for everything that you put in place.

And this is not meant to be a partisan statement. I'm registered Independent, folks - neither Republican nor Democrat!)