Thursday, November 28, 2024

Best Thanksgiving Ever

 Thanksgiving is my favorite holiday. 

I like it less as the adult in charge of the food, but that just is what it is.

When I asked the kids what their favorite part of the day was, the general consensus was "all of it!"

For me, I just enjoyed being home with Craig NOT in the field, and no performance expectations for any of us. And I slipped in a 3 mile (stationary) bike ride as bonus.

Here are a few of the Favorite Things:

Making elaborate jingle bells out of foil covered egg cartons



The food: smoked turkey, sweet potato casserole,  green bean casserole with homemade gf fried onions, cranberry sauce, crustless pumpkin pie...

Games

New matching pjs

Watching An Old Fashioned Thanksgiving

Snuggles, of course 

Yes, it was a wonderful day and I am thankful. 

French fried onions, homemade and gluten free and wonderfully delicious 


Wednesday, November 27, 2024

Where are my words?

Where are my words?


In hibernation?

On vacation?

I do not know-

They didn't ask to go.


They just went.  Poof. Gone.


Perhaps they are on sick leave 

FMLA

No time to grieve

They just went away.


I often write while I snuggle 

But when I struggle 

To fit words together in a sensible way

I find mindless games to play

Hoping perhaps that making little bubble explosions 

On the screen will keep my brain from implosion 

And that swiping words on the screen 

Will make my words return, pristine and clean 


Through the fog


Maybe soon there will be some sense and order to this rambling rabbit race

And there will be the words, keeping up their tortoise pace 

Slow and steady

But present and ready

And I'll be waiting, pen in hand 

To craft words into stories again.


Meanwhile, Little Miss Snuggles drifted to sleep,

And I've some promises to keep-

A turkey to carve for Thanksgiving Day

And bushels of things to go put away


So long and take care

I'll be back when my words are.


Joy Mast Miller 

Thanksgiving Eve 2024


Pictured: a sign at a thrift store that I did not buy, but considered....



Sunday, October 13, 2024

Saturday

 I woke up at 5 a.m. and went downstairs,  thinking I'd rest a bit on the couch before I get up at 6:00 to work. "Oh, hi Dad!" pronounced a too-perky five year old voice. "Oh it's you. I thought it was Dad's Getting Up Time. Did you know it's still dark outside? We're the only ones up. That means we get to have Private Snuggles.  We've NEVER had Private Snuggles before." Kid, seriously.  It's Very Early. Sure, I'll snuggle. 

After a bit, it was market time. Our last market of the season.  It's bittersweet,  because we love our customers.  But we work hard and we are tired. We didn't really want to be at market. But because we were at market,  we know that A is moving and B is traveling to Hawaii soon, and C has an ulcer and D rented a golf cart to give the grandkids a ride and E is going to a funeral and F was at a funeral. 

G ordered a wrap with no steak because she's having trouble with her teeth. "Brush those teeth every day!" she instructed our 7 year old son, who was working the cash box like a pro. Then she wandered over to watch the jazz guitarist and listen to the saxophone, because she hasn't heard jazz since she's in Iowa. She lost herself in the music,  so we just delivered her wrap to her. She came back for napkins, then went to the bench next to the musicians and sat there the entire morning,  soaking in the music.

H was super impressed with his half dollar, and plans to use it as a ball marker in golf. I, on the other hand, wasn't a customer at all, but a boy with curly hair, about nine years old, who brought a bag with five potatoes from his Grandma's booth. "HEY, CAN I SELL YOU THESE POTATOES? THEY'RE $1.50-- unless you want to give me a tip." Sure, I'll buy potatoes from a cute kid. I gave him a dollar bill and a fifty cent piece. "What kind of fifty cents is this??" He eyed it skeptically.  "Can I just have two quarters?" I didn't give him a tip, but I wish I had.  He was an ambitious little salesman.

J bought three sandwiches to take back to the shop, where he and his brothers were going through a semi that was recently purchased,  making sure it is road worthy.

K told how he had a surprise visitor from Red Lake. L bought a $6 sandwich and left a $5 tip. 

M was another vendor, who had a "Pupcake" food truck, where people bought treats for their dogs. At least one dog even posed for a pic in her truck's serving window! She educated us on all the steps she has to take to take to legally sell dog treats in Iowa. 

N is recovering from a hand injury from an incident on the farm. "At least I get to drive the combine now!" 

Customers O-Z never showed up, because they were watching the football game.

We left market at 2:04. We stopped at Yotty's for a thank you treat for our son for his willing help. 

On the way home, Craig said, "Shall we go to Leon tonight instead of tomorrow?" We calculated that if we could leave by 4:30, we could be at visitation before 8, and hopefully see the people we wanted to connect with, rather than waiting until tomorrow and sitting through the funeral but not having a chance to talk to people. 

We got home at 2:32. We got out of the trailer the things that need to be gotten out. Craig fed the 33 baby calves their milk and got his things and himself ready. I ran a load of dishes and a load of laundry. T packed bedding and clothes for himself and all his siblings. Grandma returned the other kids at 4:00. I made sure everyone had shoes.

We left at 4:35. We ordered pizza and a salad to pick up at Casey's halfway there. We got the whole crew out and traipsed into the store for a potty break. We were a motley crew, really, with outfits ranging from t shirt and jeans to red plaid jammies with green chore boots. 

We arrived at the church for the visitation at 7:37. Uncle Mikie and Aunt Brenda brought Mom's vehicle and traded for ours, still full of children. 

We were those annoying people who came right before visitation closes, and stayed for an hour, right when the family Really Wants To Go Home. 

Barbara, the 96 year old whose life was being remembered, feels to me like the last person from the Leon church who has been "old" my entire life. Maybe it's because she became a widow the year I was born.

I don't feel like I actually knew her well myself. I remember her quilts, and her hospitality, and her reacting rewardingly when her grandsons teased her. But there are a lot of people whom we care about deeply, who are related to Barbara, so we wanted to go.

I heard some stories about Oklahoma days, where Amos was one of the exceptional people who believed in my dad, in spite of Dad's physical challenges, and trusted Dad with his farm equipment.  Joni said that he would stay at my Grandpa Joas's when his parents,  Amos and Barbara,  would go on trips. Now I want to hear more!

We left the visitation and finally made it to my mom's,  where we said hello to Uncle Jake and Aunt Anna Mary, and got all the kids, now on their third wind, settled down.

Then, we slept. 

It was a good, full day.

And I- well, I've enjoyed the interactions with all the people,  but it might take me a week to recover, so please pardon me, while I crawl into a hole and refuel for a bit. 

Saturday, October 5, 2024

Boredom Busters

Our family recently conquered another weekend of cooking at the local Fall Festival. It's an intense marathon of preparation and then coordinating at the actual event so that people can Eat Good Beef and stuff.

One thing I'm constantly aware of is how our family business affects our family. One huge goal of using this means to support our family is that, in theory, we get to be with our kids more. In reality, with young children,  it's hard to make that the reality. 

So the best part of this year's Fall Festival for me was, after Fall Festival,  asking our boys what their favorite part of Fall Festival was, and hearing them say, each in their own way, that the best part of Fall Festival was being near their family. 

This year, we had a nice spot behind our booth where they could have some space to play and be creative.  I stocked up on some economical STEM kits for them to assemble, and they played games, listened to Adventures in Odyssey and fashioned games out of cardboard boxes. 

I sat back there to catch my breath for a bit, and admired a very large cardboard dice that they had made. "What inspired this?" I asked.  Another mom was relaxing back there, and she quickly responded with "Boredom."

Boredom is such a great opportunity. 

Thursday,  they were firefighters. Which was fine, until it involved a second floor rescue.

Friday,  finding themselves banished from the house for an hour (or they would face Torture By Nap) they quickly became electrical engineers and designed a porch light from miscellaneous items they found in the shop attic.

It's really very little wonder that I'm always in a subconscious state of near-worry. My hair turns more gray by the hour, as I attempt to keep up with the extreme levels of mental and physical energy on constant display around here. Craig's dad just grins and tells me it has only just begun.

One day this week,  we had a friend come at 7:00 a.m. to provide childcare so we could go to an appointment. She was still rubbing the sleep out of her eyes as she sat, in awe-struck wonder, watching the buzz of energy surging through our house as the boys did their laundry and dishwasher responsibilities and hurried through their math, so they could get on with the Important Things. Like firefighting and stuff. "Are they always this wide awake at this time of the day?" Yup. Actually,  they're not allowed to come down before 6:00. That's when it starts. 

I try to provide them with productive things for their brains and bodies to stretch and strengthen and grow. 

And then, I give them the gift of Boredom. 

And from thence flows all the entertainment I could ever desire.



Monday, September 9, 2024

Interactive Metronome: is it for you?

Interactive Metronome (IM) is the most recent therapeutic intervention we did for one of our children who has had to face more obstacles than some, to achieve his current level of function. This post is my review of IM.

This spring I reached out, in desperation,  to another mom who has neurodivergent children, and asked for recommendations.  She responded with a whole list of things that they have found helpful along the way.

One of these was Interactive Metronome. 

So we gave it a try.

Here is why Interactive Metronome has been a good fit for our family, to use with one child this year:

- It is done at our home

- With 3 other young children, plus our business,  I did not see a clear path forward to continue pursuing traditional occupational therapy or other recommended therapies for him this summer- but we desperately needed SOMETHING

- One of his needs is to strengthen the cross-brain action. A few years ago, before OT, He was not able to cross midline. He would drop gaze at midline. If asked to make a rainbow in the air with his hand, he would drop at midline. He did not alternate feet coming down stairs. He can do it now, but it's still weak, and he quickly tires mentally when doing physical tasks that require frequent midline crossing. All that to say, it was easy to see how Interactive Metronome (IM) could, at minimum,  strengthen this.

- Another need is focus. IM requires focus, but it also strengthens focus.

- IM targets auditory input, which has been another sensory need.

- It is not cheap, but it is within reach, and the cost is straightforward. 

So we gave it a try. It was hard. It was intense. It stretched us both. We did it imperfectly. But we did it. 

Yes, it was worth it.

What is IM?

- Basically every day, you're tapping out rhythms in various ways with your hands and feet, for about 30 minutes. 

- The idea is clapping or tapping out rhythms to the beat of a metronome. There are visual cues, and sometimes also auditory cues, that let you know if you're early, late, or right on. Eventually, there are games integrated, like a basketball goes in the hoop when you're right on time.

- The goals are improved focus, agility, and coordination. There is also the hope that by patterning the brain in these ways, it can address anxiety and behavioral concerns as well.

-You can pick between 15 sessions of one hour each or 30 sessions of 30 minutes each. Because our son's performance tested so low at the beginning,  we went an even slower, longer path, of almost 50 sessions of 30 minutes. The goal is to do 3-6 sessions each week.

A sample screen from an IM session 

Did it work for our son?

When you have lived a few cycles of "doing well" and "not doing well" it is hard to definitely say, "This worked wonders!"- because life is full of cycles and seasons, and there is never just one factor to anything. 

Having said that, I'm confident that Interactive Metronome was a key factor in taking him to the next level in his growth and stability this year. It was definitely worth the time and effort-and a few battles- to do it this spring. 

It helped balance a few more things in his brain. It challenged his focus. It delayed yet again the potential need to rely on daily medication for him to be able to function- mentally and emotionally. 

We still have days and seasons that are rough. It didn't "cure" anything. That's not really the goal anyway. The goal is achieving maximum potential. 

IM gives measurable feedback, and his scores improved drastically for being able to keep rhythm with the metronome. Although his ending score was still not amazing as a stand-alone score, it was amazing when compared to where he started! That's what we weigh here- progress, not perfection. 

What went well?

-We did it at home, parent led, and didn't have to go anywhere. 

- We had a coach, with whom I was in close contact with throughout the program.  She was so helpful with troubleshooting and encouraging along the way. She is a Christian mom who is well-versed in mothering neurodiversity as well, so the encouragement was multi-faceted. 

-He found the games motivating.

What did not go well?

- We did it at home, parent led, and didn't go anywhere.  (Oh wait, I just named thst as a positive.  It was. It was both positive and negative.) He has responded so well to in person therapists in the past, and we missed that aspect. Sometimes, parents don't need one more opportunity to be the target, when things get hard. Sometimes, that outside voice is just what is needed for both parent and child to get over the hurdle.

- The sessions are 30 minutes long. My son’s attention span with things that don't interest him is about 2 minutes. I think he got that from his mom. But- he did it. And the battles grew less.

- It would have been better to have an adult present the duration of each session.  I couldn't always do that. So I occasionally stepped in to find him with the volume turned off, clapping merrily to his own little rhythm.  

Is IM right for your family?

If your child has concerns with physical coordination, emotional instability, focus, or developmental delays, my FIRST recommendation is to have the child evaluated by an occupational therapist or other professional,  in person. This may or may not require a physician's order. Depending what the concerns are, definitely include your healthcare provider- they have so many resources!

If you are looking to solidify your own or your child's physical coordination or attention challenges, but you don't suspect (or have already addressed) deep underlying causes, then yes, I give IM a very high recommendation.  

If you are doing therapies, but need something structured to do at home through the week, IM could potentially be a good supplement.

Best of all, IM can be done anywhere, on your schedule.

If you'd like more information,  I'd be happy to direct you to our coach.

In full disclosure,  I do benefit from anyone who uses her services through my referral, so please mention my name. 

Even without that kickback, I would still recommend IM. πŸ˜€

Sunday, September 8, 2024

Living with neurodiversity

 "I'm normal. What's wrong with everyone else?"

My dad said this occasionally. 

If you knew my dad, you know he wasn't really "normal"- whatever that is.

He had a genetic form of dystonia that showed up in various forms in several relatives. Since it is a neuromuscular disorder,  he was obviously neurodiverse, in very visible, physical ways.

Now that I'm grown and have children of my own, I recognize that Dad's neurodiversity may have been more of a thing than I ever recognized in his lifetime. 

I don't know that any of it was troublesome or negative (as long as he was able to do things for himself)- it's just who he was. 

He got dressed in the same way every day. His shoes went on in the same order. He ate peanut butter more than the average person. He disliked every cheese except mozzarella, but he never complained about food he was served. "Thanks for the food. It was very tasty!" was his well-masked statement of gratitude when served something he secretly fought to eat. 

He was an excellent mathematician. He had crazy formulas for remembering numbers.  He had lots of shirts, but only wore a select few.

I have respect for my dad like I have for few men. But not because he was "normal."

 "Normal" has never been clearly defined to me.  Probably because I have my own set of  quirks and abnormalities. 

My undiagnosed (or self-diagnosed) stuff comes out in different ways. Some seasons are more intense than others, but I often have to consciously refrain from constantly interrupting in conversation. I have to consciously finish my sentences,  or I'll leave 3 unfinished thoughts hanging. I get mentally bored easily.  I hunt dopamine. I have to take life in small bites. I leave tasks unfinished, unless, like sentences,  I consciously finish them. 

Executive function skills are hard, hard, hard.  I can do them, but they are very hard. 

Page from Mr. Rush, by Roy Hargreaves. This picture is a map of my life,  some days.

I get "brainaches" and freeze up or melt down when overstimulated. If I'm judged on household organization,  I will get a big "she tries" (maybe "she'll try" Olympics break dancing next- she might have the same chance of success at that).  I mean- I usually know where my stuff is, so please don't shuffle my piles. So it's organized. It just looks messy. 

 I've come to understand that because of the way my brain work, I have to adjust expectations AND use different tools, to achieve any level of success with some of these things.

On the other hand, because of the way my brain soaks up and spits out information,  I can ramble off line after line of rhyming words with very little effort.  I can brainstorm big projects- I may not be the person to carry them through to completion, but I'm an expert in the Ideas Department!

My former self sought stimulation. My current self goes through seasons of constant overstimulation. It's empowering to realize the role that neurodiversity plays, because it helps me understand my freezeups and meltdowns. It's not simply emotional instability, and there are tools to help. 

Neurodiversity is the powerhouse that enables me to get things done- especially under the pressure of a good deadline!

Neurodiversity can be dysfunction. 

Neurodiversity can be dynamic.

I didn't understand these things about myself until I'm having to try to steer the boat with offspring who share my DNA. 

Raising children, with neurodiversity in the mix, is a circus. Entertaining. Exasperating. Educational. Exhausting. Exciting. Exceptional.  Twice exceptional,  actually.  

I learn about things I never wanted to need to know. Goals change. Routines evolve. Therapies help. We try to maximize our ability to function as a team. 

On a hard day, the neurodiversity has the potential to quickly explode into dysfunction. On a good day, the neurodiversity is dynamic, and we Get Things Done.

One thing is certain: my former self wanted to learn or experience something new every day. My current self lives that dream. Every day. 

Can I have a brain break now?!?

Friday, September 6, 2024

The power of repeated acts of kindness...

 I have been the recipient of a completely unexpected, undeserved, delightful, repeated act of kindness from a customer who has become a friend. 



 The first time she brought flowers was a day that Craig and I were working our grilling stand at market alone, on our anniversary, because "This is what we do for dates." After a bit, she came by with some flowers for our "date." 

Since then, she has randomly showed up at our stand with flowers. This summer, it has been a regular occurrence. We have market; Genie shows up with flowers.

Some weeks, I enjoy them all week long. Other weeks, I love them well for a few moments, then spread the love on to another person. 

I have learned a lot about giving, by being on the receiving end of this ongoing gift.

1. I don't have to have a lot, to give a little. 

2. Merchants don't expect their customers to bring them gifts of encouragement. But merchants are people, and people need encouragement. I want to keep my eyes open, and be willing to spread small acts of kindness, with no strings attached, to people I interact with- including merchants.

3. Giving sometimes has a Snowball Effect. She gives me flowers. I sometimes give the flowers with some food to someone having a tough week. So it gives me an amazing opportunity to both enjoy the gift for a bit, then pass it on, when I see someone who needs it more than I do. 

4. Having this handed to me week after week increases my alertness to "Who needs a little cheer?" 

5. A small, repeated gift is perhaps sometimes more impactful than a large, one-time gift. "I see you. You matter. I appreciate you." "I still see you. You still matter. I still appreciate you."

Thanks so much, Genie - for your friendship,  for all the flowers, and for all you have taught me about giving. 



Saturday, August 3, 2024

Mom Joys

 


1. I lost my glasses 2 weeks ago. They vanished.

A child found them in his backpack Thursday, when he went to Grandma's.

I ordered new ones Wednesday night.

2. In Aldi's Aisle of Shame recently, I picked up a hammock chair, for myself. Craig screwed a hook into the beam above the deck, and we all take turns enjoying it. 

Also from Aldi's AOS, I got a 3 foot round inflatable swimming pool, which was on the deck with about 2 inches of water in it. 

Boy sat in hammock chair and went round and round and round and round and round and round... then KERPLOP!! KERSPLASH! He, still sitting in the swing, was also sitting in the pool. Except he, swing and all, landed on the side of the pool, after which all 3 air receptacles were popped open. They- the pool and the boy- were quite deflated.

3. This morning, a certain person was dashing around here, completing his task of picking up stuff, vrroooming around.... "Mom, do you know why I'm a Monster Truck?" (Pulls his pants down far enough to reveal his new monster truck undies.)  Informs me that he next will be a jet engine, then a race car, then a dump truck (he'll have to go slow that time, because dump trucks are slow).

I dunno. Maybe I make life's issues too complex.

Maybe I just need new undies.

Wednesday, June 12, 2024

The case of the explosive cupboard

My friend innocently opened the cupboard door. Its contents, stuffed and stacked like a vertical domino track, exploded out at her.

1. Was the friend or the cupboard at fault?*

2. This scenario happens a lot between people, too. 

3. Instead of fixing the issue with the cupboard,  we keep pussy footing around it and trying to avoid semi-surprise explosions. 

4. Then we blame the friend, not the dysfunctional cupboard. 



*There may be a logical 3rd option, that it was the person who rigged the cupboard who may be held responsible, but that ruins my illustration, so I'll leave it out.

Saturday, June 8, 2024

Imperfectitis

I'm not very wise

I'm not very smart

I'm a Too Big size

I can't focus for art.


My house gets messy

My garden has weeds

My clothes are not dressy

My poetry needs

An editor. 


I talk when I shouldn't, 

Don't talk when I should

I wish I wouldn't 

Do harm- just good.


I'm not Pinterest Perfect, 

I struggle to be

Full of defect upon defect

Yet live the best version of me.


My voice, stricken with laryngitis,

Crackles out a healing, old song

“Just as I am”- with imperfectitis

I come, just to Be- and Belong.


Joy Mast Miller

6-8-24

……….

 

Just as I am, without one plea,

But that Thy blood was shed for me,

And that Thou bid’st me come to Thee,

O Lamb of God, I come! I come!


Just as I am, and waiting not

To rid my soul of one dark blot;

To Thee whose blood can cleanse each spot,

O Lamb of God, I come, I come!


Just as I am, though tossed about

With many a conflict, many a doubt;

Fightings within, and fears without,

O Lamb of God, I come, I come!


Just as I am, poor, wretched, blind;

Sight, riches, healing of the mind;

Yes, all I need, in Thee to find,

O Lamb of God, I come, I come!


Just as I am, Thou wilt receive,

Wilt welcome, pardon, cleanse, relieve;

Because Thy promise I believe,

O Lamb of God, I come, I come!


Just as I am, Thy love unknown

Has broken every barrier down;

Now, to be Thine, yea, Thine alone,

O Lamb of God, I come, I come!


Lyrics:Charlotte Elliott (1789-1871)

Music:William Batchelder Bradbury (1816-1868)

hymnal.net

Mini Me and Me, just as we are.






Tuesday, May 28, 2024

When I set out for Aldi and ended up at Audi

Life is a grand obstacle course.

It starts early: look at what it takes for a tiny human to even get out of his mom's body!

Then notice all the tumbles and bumps it takes for a child to learn to walk.

There's a pretty standard set of obstacles that most children go through at a fairly standard pace. Some, however, face insurmountable obstacles early on, and parents are forced to recalculate and innovate to navigate the course.

At some point,  the obstacles differentiate greatly, and one adult's obstacle course looks very different from another's. 

Some people enjoy navigating through obstacles; others despise it. Maybe it's why some adults manage to appear happy most of the time, while others are plain down grumpy every time they hit an obstacle. In my lenthening experience of being an adult, I've discovered that, on my course at least, obstacles are everywhere. I can either embrace it, or hate my life.

All that to preface how I set out for Aldi and ended up at Audi.

 ......

I planned my day:

Take child to Grandma's,  pick up Walmart order, get a huge amount of buns at Aldi, go home.

Obstacle 1: Thanks to Craig's dad reminding him that we had the Expedition scheduled for some work at the repair shop, my Big Vehicle was absent.  I remembered this when I was ready to load my children into it.

Recalculate.

Plan B: Take Toyota Corolla.  All children to Grandma's.  Get Things. Bring things home. Empty car. Retrieve children. 

Obstacle 2: The children who were supposed to be sitting calmly in the car waiting for their mother were, well, not sitting calmly.

Recalibrate. 

Children exit car. Children wait in line, get in car one at a time. Buckle in. Keep your bodies to yourself. Thank you.

Obstacle 3: Forget to add air to tire. Oh well, it will be okay. It's still plump. It's not that far. It'll be fine.

Execute Plan B.  Walmart? Check. Aldi? Check.

Look at tire.

Oh, duds and bummers.

I can't drive home on a pancake! At least it was a little plumper than a crepe- I could limp somewhere to get air. 

But where

Can I find air?

It's all around 

Yet can't be found. 

"Hey, sir!" I said to the guy parked beside me. "Where is the closest place I can find air for my tire?"

He looked around.  "Go to the dealership across the road. They will have air."

My courage and pride both felt a little wilted at that moment,  but it truly was the best option. So I drove my dusty, rusty, out-of-shape 2007 Toyota Corolla to the Audi dealership, past the blue and red and black grand, brand new vehicles,  and asked for air.

The fatherly gentleman at the desk was very kind, told me where to pull in for air, and served me himself.

"My car feels a bit out of place here," I said.

"Why is that?" 

"I've been driving it a long time!"

"You've gotten your money's worth out of it."

Yes, indeed.

And that is how my trip to Aldi ended up at Audi.

Now-off to face the next set of obstacles!

Our toddler, equipped and ready to face the obstacles!


Wednesday, May 15, 2024

Chain Cleaning

When I was young, my favorite church service was the monthly hymn sing.  Depending who the song leader was, he would state "We're going to do some chain singing." It was a copout, really,  for the song leader who didn't want to lead the acapella four-part congregational singing, so he could go sit down. That's how my 15-year-old self interpreted it anyway, with an inward groan.

The song leader would say the number of the hymn to be sung, then pronounce the name of someone in the group. That person would pick and lead the next song, two or three steps up or down from the given pitch, and pick the next person to pick the next song. And then the next person would pick the next person, and so on and so forth until 8:20 when the chain was broken and the Amen was said.

One day, I was tidying the house. At least I was making a noble attempt. Like I often do when Clutter has taken over, I just gathered an armful, put the stuff away, and wherever my Putting Away Journey took me, that became the new launching pad. I gathered 10 things, put them away, and wherever I landed, I launched from there, with 10 more things to put away. Pick up 10 things in the living room, take them to where they belong. If the last thing to put away was a cup, it goes to the dishwasher. While at the dishwasher,  make the counter better and gather all the trash. While at the trash can, gather the shoes on the floor and take them to their home. While at the shoe closet, pick up the dirty socks and take them to the hamper in the bathroom.  I realized I was chain cleaning!

Kinda like chain singing,  in chain cleaning, the last place decides the next place, and the stuff in that place determines the next spot to tidy.

The short-term goal is to make a small difference in a small place. 

Eventually,  the whole house looks So Much Better.

Chain cleaning may not be the most efficient way to clean a house, but it's an excellent way to display the Big Difference that a making a series of Small Differences can make.

Go make a small difference,  somewhere-anywhere.

It just may start a chain reaction. 

Better yet, snag some teammates,  and do some chain singing while you chain clean.

Tra-la-la!

Thursday, May 9, 2024

Teeth of Different Value

Two sons each lost a tooth.

One son misplaced his newly lost tooth. "Oh no! Now it will never be part of my collection!" 

One son said yes, his mother could have his newly lost tooth.  And yes, she could throw it away.  "I just like to give it to The Fairy," he said.

The Fairy took the tooth, bent over and gave the son a kiss. Then she flew the little tooth to the trash can.

The End.

image from pixabay.com



Tuesday, May 7, 2024

The Shoe Saga


Four kids and one mother, all packed into one Expedition,  went on an expedition.  

En route to Destination, it was discovered that one kid had no shoes.

A call was made to another mother of different kids. "Hey, are you going today? Got any shoes? Please?"

Shoes were brought and attached to the unshoed kid.

Much tromping and stomping through woods and adventureland was done and pleasure was experienced. 

Borrowed shoes were returned. 

Four kids and one mother, all packed into one Expedition,  returned from the expedition.

En route to home, it was discovered that three kids had no shoes.

A call was made to the park. "Got any shoes? Please?"

An additional trip was made to the park office a few days later.

"I see some shoes that belong at our house!" said the mother.

"Ah, yes, please take them!" said the lady. "At least you're not the only one!" she said, pointing to the second pair of shoes.

"Those are ours also," said the mother.

The End.

Tuesday, April 16, 2024

Are adults destined to be Boring, Stale, and Mad About Life?

I had one of those startle moments recently, when I realized that I was almost 20 when Caitlin Clark was born.

I don't usually talk sports, because two sentences in, it becomes obvious I have No Clue what I'm talking about. 

However,  Caitlin Clark became famous while attending the University about 15 minutes from my house, and I know people who have talked to her,  so I started paying attention.  I watched to see who she is and how she plays, and how her teammates reportedly love her- because she's that kind of a person.

I admire Caitlin's enthusiasm about life, her strength,  and her stamina. Her ability to fight well, yet speak highly of the team who defeated them is noteworthy.

I look at her amazing smile, and silently pray that her smile survives- that nothing and nobody is brutal enough to destroy that beautiful smile.

I hope that Adult Life doesn't crush her.  

.....

When I was entering adulthood,  I fought it with my whole being. 

I even wrote a paper about all the reasons I didn't want to graduate into adulthood. I don't remember what words I used, but the idea was that most adults are Boring, Stale, and/or Mad About Life.

A couple decades later, and I think, to the current pre-adults around me, I probably seem just about as Boring,  Stale, and Mad About Life as any adult ever was.

Truth is, I'm tired. Exhausted.  Stale.

I want to sleep and do Really Boring Things, because there's this whole buzz of constant excitement around me all the time. I crave quiet. I read posts from The Dull Men's Club, for fun. A Boring Day is a Good Day- that's my motto!! How utterly boring. 

I try really hard not to (because, amidst all the things I can NOT control, I have to practice what I teach my kids: "Your response is YOUR responsibility!"), but some days, I DO feel really Mad About Life.  Grief has slashed my heart to pieces, and some days, I find myself still struggling to pick up the pieces. Navigating subtle OR obvious special needs of children has kept me awake more nights than you know. I feel so much more fear than I did as a child,  even though my trust has deepened. I feel a lot of emotions about the actions of people who may or may not have a direct effect on my life.  I have to consciously "clean my glasses" so I can see life around me outside the filter of my own experiences. 

I TRY not to let all this stuff make me grumpy, but I am quite certain that, to my former self, I would hit the "Mad About Life" list. On some days, anyway.

Here's my Challenge of the Day-

To the pre-adults: Hug an adult today- they probably need it. 

To the adults: Smile occasionally,  sleep when you can, and remember to clean your glasses.

To all: Be cheerleaders, across the span of age.

.....

One more outstanding thing about Caitlin Clark: 

After being selected as #1 pick for the WNBA, she was asked about her goals. Instead of focusing on the competition and The Win, her answer focused on continuing to enjoy the game, as she moves forward. 

I want to enjoy each step of my journey,  too.

Wednesday, February 7, 2024

Celebrating the Family of God- 10 things I love about my church

 


The "family of God" is much larger than our church. But these ten things are about our church, in particular. 

1. We meet in an old church building with  stained glass windows.

2. We're an odd mix of traditional, old-fashioned,  and modern.

3. The people make incredible food. Seriously,  the potlucks never disappoint. I think I always take the worst food there πŸ˜† 

4. The children have some wonderful Sunday School teachers who have invested many hours into developing a through-the-Bible interactive study.

5. Bible memory is encouraged and rewarded, for the kids.

6. Our singing is a lot better than it was 10 years ago πŸ˜‰. The building acoustics help, too.

7. Adult Ladies' Sunday School Class. We're working our way through Romans right now, and I am thoroughly enjoying the study.

8. We practice some New Testament teachings that many find strange and many more deem unnecessary. Washing each others' feet. Anointing with oil for the sick. Heads covered for the women. Fasting is encouraged.  

9. We do fun things together. 

10. We serve each other. We have had so many meals cooked for us, through Baby Season, and we've cooked a few for others. There is willingness to pitch in and get things done. Sometimes,  as in most groups, there has to be some extra motivational encouragement,  depending on the project,  but I'm thankful for the work-together attitude. 

There are more things, but there's my Ten Things List!

Monday, February 5, 2024

Celebrating Life on the Farm- 10 things I love about scratching out a living from the dirt

Being on a farm is not where I envisioned myself in my adulthood,  and parts of it I will never love. But this isn't about that; it's about the parts I do love.


1. Wide open spaces

2. Animals

3. Few neighbors

4. Beautiful sunrises and sunsets

5. Quiet places

6. Big skies

7. Fresh air

8. Green things

9. Educational opportunities 

10. The Farmer Himself

Wednesday, January 24, 2024

Celebrating Marriage: 10 Reasons I Love Being Married to Craig

I wish I didn't feel any hesitation to put this out there for people to read, but I do.

We have single friends whom we honor.

We have friends whose marriages are brutal and broken.

We have friends whose marriage partners have died, and the hole in their lives is massive. 

We also have a marriage that is far from perfect,  because WE are far from perfect. 

Yet, perhaps it is because of these things, I write. 

Marriage was designed to be beautiful,  and, even in its imperfection, I want to celebrate the love of marriage. 


1. I was single for 30 years. I actually loved that life. But it gets lonely after awhile. Loneliness exists within marriage, too- but it's different.  I have My Someone. I love having My Someone. 

2. Have you ever lived with a hormonal woman? It ain't easy (so I hear🀣). But, 4 babies and several miscarriages later, my husband has survived my hormonal roller coaster,  and somehow, he has managed to love me through it. I love that he was my companion through it all, and went with me to every single early OB appointment- I am SO THANKFUL he was there for the hard ones. (We are both enjoying having my hormones a bit more stable again πŸ™ƒ)

3. If you are a person of wildly passionate thoughts and ideas and emotions, I hope you have a stable person, somewhere, to help keep you grounded and balanced. Craig's name means "rock," and I love that he is my rock.

4. I love that our children run to him with shining eyes and big smiles, when he comes in the door.

5. If you know Craig,  you know that he may not be loud in a crowd, but he holds opinions that are stubbornly unswerving. I love that he has been willing to bend, ever so slightly, on things like occasionally driving a car instead of a truck, and drinking coffee (iced, but it's coffee!πŸ˜‰). 

6. Speaking of coffee, I lived the first 30 years of my life with the delusion that what married people do every morning is have great conversation over coffee. It has taken 10+ years to get there, but I love having someone to converse with over coffee. I'll gladly ice it! It's still not a daily thing for us, like it was (almost) for my parents,  to sit and have a long chat over coffee. But progress is progress!!

7. My favorite of Craig's shirts is the one that says, "Don't panic- Dad will fix it." As a homeowner when I was single, I considered writing a book "On Being My Own Handyman."  I love that my husband is capable of fixing just about anything that can be fixed with a little welding, a little warping, or a little wood. He makes it look so easy.

8. Touch is a touchy subject with me. I wasn't touched much for 30 years.  Sometimes, I like being touched; sometimes, I don't.  With four kids, by the time Craig comes in, there are days that every single one of my touch receptors is on fire, and I don't want to touch or be touched.  I love having access to touch when I need it; I also love that I'm allowed to say, "Not right now, please" when I need a break. I especially love having a foot warmer. 😁

9. Being married to a man who is able and willing to do just about anything for just about anyone is wonderful- and hard.  I love that he's that kind of man, even though I get kinda selfish about sharing him sometimes.  I have a whole new appreciation for, say, pastors' wives, who constantly share their husbands all around the community a whole lot more than I share mine.  I love that he's willing to help others when the opportunity arises- it's why we're here.

10. Craig and I are very different persons.  It's not a bad thing.  Both of us have expanded our minds and grown our hearts a little larger, because of the differences in our fields of knowledge and interests.  He reads more, sings more, and pulls the keys more often than he did 12 years ago.  I know a whole lot more about cattle and tractors and how things work than I did 12 years ago.  I love working with him in our meat business, because we sharpen each other's ideas- I work mostly with the marketing part of it, and he designs and builds heavy duty carts to haul the grills and freezers.  I love being married to my teammate, and I love that we get to each help the other become a better person.

After we became engaged, people came out of the woodwork to tell us that marriage is hard work.  I mean, they weren't wrong, because relationships just ARE that way.  Almost 12 years later, I'm still saying that LIFE is hard work, and I'm so thankful to have someone to do the hard things with.

And THAT is why I'm celebrating marriage.

p.s. Yes, I had Craig's permission before I said all this stuff about him πŸ˜‰

Photo from our wedding day, August 25, 2012.
Many thanks to Portraits by Jeanna and all the others who helped preserve our memories from that day!

Sunday, January 21, 2024

Criticism


 I'm digging up an old word sketch tonight.

Actually,  it's a song I wrote probably two decades ago. 

I don't remember the specifics of why I wrote these words, but every now and then, they echo through my heart.

...........

There are those who criticize

I cringe beneath condemning eyes

I want to run away and hide

Or scream, and tell how hard I tried 


Search me, oh God, and know my heart 

Search me, oh God, examine every part

Search me, oh God, and see if there be

Some wicked way in me


Opinions and expectations 

Can multiply life's frustrations

Whom should I please? What should I do?

Oh, God- I want to please you!!


Search me, oh God, and know my heart 

Search me, oh God, examine every part

Search me, oh God, and see if there be

Some wicked way in me




Saturday, January 6, 2024

Word Jewelry, and foot-tapping insecurities

I want to write more. 

At this season of life, I don't really care if anyone reads what I write, and I don't care as much as I should care, what they think if they do stumble upon my words. I'm not really writing for anyone else; I'm writing for me. It's what I do for fun (I'm weird that way).

Some days, however,  I let myself wonder if I could get paid for my "word jewelry" (strings of words that have been fashioned into something of beauty and value). 

It's only when I start thinking about writing for other people that I start to feel insecure about my writing. While I typed that last sentence,  my left foot started tapping frantically.

I want to write for money, but I don't want to have to care about what people think about what I write. 

Solve that!!

Out of these insecurities,  I wrote this:

---------

If I would write

Would I write right?

Would the words be worth the read?

Would the reader wonder why I wrote,

Or read what I wrote, with wonder?


If I would write, why would I write?

And why would I write what I write?

Because the words in my head, they just might explode

If they're trapped there forever, with nowhere to go.


I can write what I cannot speak,

When I write, I can delete.

When my brain fires faster than my tongue can translate,

The mords get wixed up as they fly out the gate.

But as I write, the jibberish brainwave jello starts to mold,

I can leave it and come back 'til I get the story told.


I'm terrible at following the rules of the words-

There are so many, it's really absurd.

 

I Capitalize As I Please,

Because Naming Things is one of the Small Glees

Of life that I choose to savor,

At the risk of taking me out of favor

With the Word Lords.


I mix meters and metaphors and poetry forms.

(I also think forms should rhyme with worms.)

Who writes these rules, anyway?

Must I keep them? Who's to say?


Sometimes when I write, I pull out the stoppers.

I verb-alize nouns, and scandalize Propers.

I comma with Oxford, AP or, random.

Some things I write are really quite dumb.

 

But I write, 

Because the words I write might

Make someone's day bright

Or help someone see 

Something differently. 


But mostly,  

I write for me.


The End.

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