The Wednesday Pop - Vol. 5 . . . you've got to laugh

Most of you know that I'm devoting Wednesdays this year to telling stories about my Dad.  I came to the conclusion that this was a good idea when I started realizing how very much I had to say about him.  Hope you're enjoying The Wednesday Pop.  I guess I shouldn't claim to have the best Dad ever, but . . . well, I do.

I'm enjoying this regular place to recollect and give him some overdue thanks and think about ways that my parenting (and maybe yours) could be enriched by looking at how my Dad parents.  Needless to say, I've been thinking back a bunch lately, remembering old times and recalling facts from days gone by.  I keep being reminding that my Dad has always been quick to laugh, and I'm thankful for that.  He isn't a silly guy when it's time to be serious, but he has always taught us how to laugh.  Dad doesn't teach in lectures, but he shows his lessons over time by the way he lives.  As time goes by, I grow more and more thankful for every occasion to laugh - don't you?

Finding the joy in moments is such a gift, and I realize now that Dad has been showing us how to do that for years.  We did a lot of laughing as kids, and we do a lot of it now.  There were certainly plenty of serious times when laughing wasn't appropriate, but I'm thinking back about the many ways that Dad creates opportunities to laugh, both at life and at ourselves.  I'm thankful.

So, today I give you these tips on parenting from the 'how my Dad does it' playbook:

• Laugh at yourself whenever you can.  It's good for kids to see that parents goof up and it's awesome when they see us being okay with it.
• Make up a ridiculous language with nothing at all decipherable and speak it with your children often.  The crazier, the better, so go for it.  If you can also do strange things with your eyebrows, it's even better.  As you speak this malarky, your child learns about the magic of imagination and sees, too, that having fun with him or her is always more fun than just about everything else!
• Make up silly stories and crazy words and far-fetched tall tales.  It's fun,  makes everyone giggle and creates learning and trust out of fun moments.
• Take winning and losing with lightness and ease.  Laughing about doing absolutely horrible in a card game is an invaluable lesson for your child.
• Be willing to hear, revel in and laugh at your children's stories again and again and again.  It tells them over and over how very important they are and teaches them about speaking their mind and getting their point across.  
• Call your children by the silliest names, even if it's only the two of you that get it.  Having a pet name says I love you and I love laughing with you.

I'm thankful for laughing in this crazy, mixed-up world, and I'm thankful for a Dad who is still laughing with me!

These two things are true . . .

When this is the scene beside the sink, it means that we've made a mess.  It also means we've painted something.  There are two things I want you to know about that, though - two things that I always notice when I watch children paint or draw or paper mache or glue or pile or smush or dig or create just about anything.  

I'd like to interject here that I'm not artistically trained, I just don't mind watching kids make a mess. And I usually don't mind making a mess myself.  I have watched a lot of kids creating messes.  I was a teacher for a long time - I ran a preschool - I was a camp counselor - I taught art in my garage - my favorite part of having toddlers was letting them take their clothes off and paint like crazy in their high chairs.  I wanted you to know that I was qualified to share the following points.  I've been around the block, people.

When children create, they sing.  Some of them sing loud and clear.  Some of them hum.  Some of them sing songs with real words and some of them sing something that sounds like a grocery list and others sing their stream of consciousness.  They don't sing the same songs as those around them; they are not using three part harmony.  Sometimes the songs are funny.  Sometimes the songs are sweet.  It's fun to hear.  

On Sunday afternoon my kids were painting their pumpkins (note:  they weren't painting their jack-o-lanterns because I thought it was a wonderful creative activity - they were actually painting them because I convinced them that painting them would be awesome and we wouldn't have all of that messy stringy stuff to deal with). Their singing was wonderful.  I sat, mostly quiet, and listened.  I liked it.  They sounded happy.

Another thing that happens when children are painting or creating is that they have no stress.  They might have been angry with one another minutes before they started creating.  They might be going through a period of being anxious about something.  Oddly enough, while they are mid-creation, there is no sign of stress.  There is no anger.  There is no competition.  There is no worry.  There is no negative energy - none.  And no one involved is trying to be anyone other than themselves.

I was thinking about my kids, my artists.  I was thinking about the joy I feel while they create; how I love to hear the music and watch the concentration and comfort on their faces.

I've been wondering why we don't all do more of this.  I've been thinking about how I feel when I create, paint, dream.  It's good for the soul, to be sure.  I've been considering the ways that we grown-ups put up barriers to keep us from letting go the way children do.  I've been wondering why.  Of course we aren't all professional artists, but neither are any of the many children I've watched creating beautiful messes.  

They aren't stopped or silenced by not being the best.  A crazy perfectionism, worry, and fear do not stop children from expressing themselves.  

When do we lose that?  Why do we let it go?  Don't we want to sing unabashedly and allow stress to fall away?  

You're not an artist?  Yes, you are.

You don't have the supplies?  Yes, you do.

You can't sing?  Who cares.

Don't think the stress could be lifted?  Try it.

One little question . . . and a bunch of hope.

You know how it feels when you hear something and you know, somewhere deep inside, that you won't ever forget hearing it?  I had that experience yesterday, and I'm delighted about it.  It's a bit of a life changer, I do believe.

The last few weeks I've participated in a parent class/discussion at my kids' school.  It has been a good experience, with  meaningful conversations and much to consider when I leave the group.  I'm thankful and grateful to know that the folks around me are just guessing at this 'life' thing, too.  It feels better knowing I'm not the only one who is hypothesizing in child-rearing and life and relationships and all of the other things that get tricky.

The class has been helpful in making a few things more concrete, and I like that.  Maybe because I taught kindergarten for years or maybe because my brain just needs assistance, I like pictures - I like lists - I like simple ways I can remember difficult things.

Yesterday I heard a question in a completely different way.  "What do you want to be when you grow up?" was the question.  Just plain ole' that.  Nothing fancy.  Nothing out of the ordinary.

The belief of the instructor is that that very question may be the most important one we can ask our children, and maybe anyone.

Why?  I wondered the same thing.  What's the big deal?  The big deal is that the question offers the answerer hope that they will grow up and that there is something bigger to live for.

I love it - I really do.  We can ask that one little question and change things?  Well, I believe so.  I guess it doesn't much matter whether the answer is a cowgirl fairy go-go dancer princess or a medieval knight who fights fires on the weekends.  The point is that it matters, that there is a future, that you have a vision.  I'm all over this thing, folks.  I'm taking it on the road.

I'm thinking back over long past conversations with my kids and the trillions of kids I've known.  I'm remembering their various answers to the age-old question.  (I've been smiling a lot during this thinking.)  I remember asking the question when my girls were tiny, and I'll never forget their answers.  Emma wanted to be a cashier at Kroger and she wanted Daddy to be her bagboy.  Molly wanted to be a doctor and she wanted me to be the 'sticker lady' at her office.  Their answers have changed 1,567 times since then.  Molly realized she didn't like blood or needles and Emma realized the life of a cashier seemed tough.  That's not the point.  The point was that those little tiny souls knew way back when that folks cared about them, that they would grow and grow and grow and they had a vision of the future.

I sit here now, wondering about the simple ways I could change things - you could change things - if we but wondered, alone and with others, about what we want to be when we grow up?  I wonder at the ways I could offer hope to those who need some and the ways I might help someone formulate a vision when it's needed.  Sometimes we need a vision, a big and bright one, for way in the future.  Other times, I realize we all might just need help with the next five minutes or so.

I'm liking this newly attained tool.  I'm liking how it makes me think, how it slapped me in the face, woke me up and said, "Look at things with new eyes!"

What do you want to be when you grow up?

List 34 - These things are true . . .

I have no idea who will win the presidential election or whether this will be a warm winter or what new ridiculous reality show will change the world in the coming months.  I'm clueless about these things.  I've been thinking lately, though, about the things I do know.

Here are a few things I know personally to be true:

1. When I walk up the stairs in my old house, the stairs are creaky.  My knees are far louder and creakier.
2. Children believe that it is easier to put stuff on the top of a pile that is hanging out of a full trash can, pick it up when it falls on the floor, put it back on the top of a pile that is hanging out of a full trash can, pick it up when it falls on the floor, etc., etc., etc. than to empty said trash can.
3. Preteens believe that it makes perfect sense to wash one t-shirt in the washer when it is needed the following morning, throw the unsuspecting dryer inhabitants onto the floor to ready the dryer and move along.
4. I do not feel happiness when I proudly (and secretly) order the third series of a book for my oldest child for Christmas and hear her say (four minutes after there is no turning back with the order) that she has decided she actually hates the series.
5. Children do not have a working understanding of the steps involved to replace toilet paper rolls.  It is beyond them.  They are not able.
6. Preteens will make the average adult feel like the world's scariest roller coaster is nothing.
7. I believe in Mrs. Meyer's Clean Day.  It gives me a false sense that I have actually cleaned and taken care of everything, and it brightens my mood.
8. Children like you better when you provide food.
9. Preteens can cause whiplash.  The changes in attitude are dangerous and should be attended to in a slow, controlled manner.
10. At the end of each day, I go to bed thankful that children and preteens live with me.

What do you know is true?

A sunny day, a train track and two precious boys!

I adore capturing real life moments with fun people, so this shoot was a blast!  I was excited when this awesome gang chose the railroad tracks.  Railroads are fun settings for neat images; but, more importantly, these guys love everything railroad!  Authentic spots are the best, and it was a joy to follow along as these two fellows investigated, played and daydreamed.

They played and I chased those beautiful blue eyes - perfect day!

I love the way they are relaxed and enjoying themselves, and I love to wonder about the days in the future when they'll share these photos with their little ones.  Good stuff.

 Again, the eyes . . . oh, the eyes.

Thanks, friends, for allowing me to tag along on the fun!

Waiting for Anna . . .

It was a blast photographing this sweet family, as they prepared for the birth of the newest member of the family.  Anna has just been born, but they spent years and years as a family of four.  This gang is super special to me, and it was fun to be with them and try to capture pieces of life as they had known it.

There is no doubt that little Anna is lucky to be part of this family, and these two guys will be fantastic big brothers!

I love being with people, taking our time and getting the real stuff - real people doing what they really do.

Here's to special families, awesome big brothers and precious little sisters!

List 28 . . . Ten Reasons We Should All Be Square Dancing on a Regular Basis

Yep, you read that correctly.  I bet that's a post title you were not expecting, but I'm a fan.

Each summer when my family is at KANUGA we have a ball at the square dance.  After this summer's soirée, I've decided that I must set myself about figuring out a way to square dance more than once a year.  I'm going to require that of my life.  I'm not sure if I'll have to travel for this event or if I'll have to get schooled in square dance calling; but, alas, I need more square dancing in our lives.  You do, too.

I wish you could all learn to square dance from Uncle Ted White of THE WHITEWATER BLUEGRASS BAND.  They're fabulous musicians, and Uncle Ted can magically teach the dance to a couple hundred people, give the history and folklore behind it and actually have folks from 2 to 102 dancing at the same time.  He does all of that without ever raising his voice - it's a miracle.

Here are the ten reasons that we should all be square dancing on a regular basis:

1. Square dancing makes you smile, and that is always a good thing.
2. It works up a sweat; but it's okay, because everyone else is sweating, too.  No one is glistening.  
3. People who are square dancing together make eye contact.  Do we do that enough in everyday life?
4. When you are busy learning and participating in square dancing, you are RIGHT THERE,  in the moment.  There is no place for worrying or fretting.
5. Everybody can do it.  It doesn't matter how talented you are or how old you are or what language you speak.
6. Square dancing is a fun way to teach our children about days long gone.  In a dance, we are actually doing what our ancestors did, and even doing it to the same song!
7. Square dancing throws us out of our comfort zones, and that's when the good stuff happens in life.
8. At a square dance, every single person in the room touches every other person in the room . . . and they smile at each other!  
9. You don't sit in a chair, staring at a lecturer, to learn a new square dance.  You learn on the job.
10. Square dancing involves lots of hand-holding.  You might be connecting with your grandmother or a new friend or your soul-mate . . . but, rest assured, you'll have someone's hand to hold.  

Come on, friends DO SI DO . . . it's good for us all.

My Irish Lassie . . .

“The world is a book and those who do not travel read only one page.” – St. Augustine

My Irish lassie has been on my mind since the moment she flew off twelve days ago.  She's on the trip of her twelve year old lifetime, making memories she'll hold close forever; but she is a long, long way from her Mama!  My Molly Murphy is the incredibly lucky granddaughter of two people who appreciate travel as much as I do.  She is one fortunate little one.  The good thing about it, though, is that she knows that - how cool.  

“For my part, I travel not to go anywhere, but to go. I travel for travel’s sake. The great affair is to move.” – Robert Louis Stevenson

She has emailed and skyped and texted of her adventures and we have reveled in it all.  Seeing her happy face with the verdant rolling hills of Ireland as her background is amazing, and thinking about her rejoicing at the wedding of our dear friend, Karl, is even more amazing.  This mother is a thankful one.  

“The journey not the arrival matters.” – T. S. Eliot

I'm imagining I'll be even more thankful when she is stateside, in my view, and we are laughing through the stories over Mexican food somewhere in the Atlanta area!  (That's always been a tradition in my family - if you go away somewhere far away, the part of the family who picks you up takes you for Mexican food.  Nice tradition, huh?)

“Once you have traveled, the voyage never ends, but is played out over and over again in the quiestest chambers. The mind can never break off from the journey.” – Pat Conroy

I cannot wait to hear the stories, to watch her eyes light up as she describes what she has seen.  I look forward to knowing what she now knows, to seeing the ways that her life has just gotten larger and to hearing how she describes what she now has filed away.  Travel grows a person, adds new chapters and gives a soul a new understanding of what living on this big, blue ball means - how I look forward to meeting the new parts of Molly and throwing my arms around that sweet neck I know so well!

“Travel is fatal to prejudice, bigotry, and narrow-mindedness, and many of our people need it sorely on these accounts. Broad, wholesome, charitable views of men and things cannot be acquired by vegetating in one little corner of the earth all one's lifetime.”  - Mark Twain, The Innocents Abroad/Roughing It

List 25 - Ten things I'm loving this summer . . .

 

I'm loving summer.

I hope you are, too.

I've been thinking this week about what makes it so good, and I thought that make a good list.  I guess some of what makes summer so delicious is intangible, but it seems like a fun exercise to try to pin it down - if we can.

I dig living in a place with seasons and love the excitement of the surprising newness when each inevitable change rolls around.  I guess I'm a kid in that way.  I'm good with that.

Here's why I'm loving the summer of '12:


1.  The pile of flip-flops at the bottom of the stairs - reminds me that happy people are around, that they've just come in from something fun and that something sneaky and crazy is happening upstairs.

2.  Summer faces.

3.  Peaches.  So far, every one I've bitten into since mid-June has tasted like childhood.

4.  No bedtimes.  I love the way we get to ease up on the rules and regs.  It's fun being able to just be with the kids, enjoy rising up and calling it quits at the same times.

5.  Movies.  The three dollar popcorn bucket.  The dollar movie candy we sneak in.  The cool.  The dark.  Go see Brave - not the usual kids' movie.


6.  Having stuff to look forward to on tv - Tour de France, The X Games, Wimbledon, the Olympics.


7.  How Sunday nights don't lead to typical Monday mornings.

8.  Watching people 'get to the pool.'  So fun to see the anticipation of the cool, the relief, the fun.

9.  Caprese Salad.  I'm not sure why, but I can't seem to get enough this summer.  Mmmmmm.  The juicy tomatoes, the fresh mozzarella,  the basil leaves, the drizzle of olive oil, the sea salt, the cracked black pepper.  Luckily, I've managed to hook my kids on it, too.  Wondering . . . could I eat that for breakfast?

10.  The days when we achieve the lucky four - sun, swim, shower, snuggle.


Hope your summer is peachy, too.  What are you loving?

My friend, Ruby, and the dog days of summer . . .

There are dogs and then there are actual humans with the physical attributes of canines.  Ruby is the latter.  Aside from being delicious and fun, never meeting a stranger and being more loving than most other beings; Ruby's day goes along much like that of many.  

She has play dates, goes to daycare and is the first to greet any visitors in her house.  She lives a grand life and takes good care of her people.  I think it's good to be Ruby!

God Bless Ruby!  (And the folks she lets live with her!)

And now for yesterday's contest winner!

The mystery photo was this:

And EVERY SINGLE ONE OF YOU got it right!  I guess next week's will have to be harder!  Way to go, friends!  The random.org winner from among the correct answers was Jen J - congratulations!  Connect with me for us to work out your photo session!  Thanks for playing, folks.   Some of you ultra-with it people even recognized this snout as Sadie's, the driving force of 'Press Pause.'  

I'll get working on something good for next week.  You all are good!