The same little arm will be doing a lot of jobs next week to earn money to fund her extracurricular artistic activities.
January 29, 2011
Eliza's extracurricular activities
The same little arm will be doing a lot of jobs next week to earn money to fund her extracurricular artistic activities.
January 13, 2011
Proud as a peacock
(October 13, 2010)
I spent a lot of time at the computer last week. Like every single spare moment. The project I was working on was an example of biting off more than I could chew. Almost. But luckily my kids took their mommy's little hiatus in stride, and were more than happy to watch a hundred movies and subsist on chicken nuggets, fruit snacks, and the occasional string cheese, washed down by sips of water from the bathroom sink.
The project I was working on is part of the culmination of something that I went out on a limb for ten weeks ago. A friend invited me to join her choir. When I asked about it she merely said, "It's the best part of my year." As for me, I thought the best part of my year wasn't getting off to a good start when I had to pay $45 for the music (because sometimes I’m too much of a tight wad to even rent a Redbox). But when we got a stack of 14 awesome (and some crazy) songs, and I did the math of how many rehearsals we had (10…okay, that wasn’t really hard math), and how fast paced this choir was going to be, I got a little excited.
Fast paced and exciting it was. And spiritual and moving and powerful it was. And totally different than I had been expecting, or would have even dared hope for in a non-audition choir. This is a description that comes from our choir blog.
WE ALSO SING
"We are 364 women who come from Ephraim to Logan. Many of us are wives and mothers. Some of us are divorced, widowed, single. We are housewives, employers, employees and students. Some of us are rich and struggling, others are poor and struggling. We laugh, we cry, we try to make a difference."
And now it's concert time! I spent the last week writing program notes for our concert, because I believe in the power of the music and of our incredible director and of our choir.
My final draft of a week's worth of work was four pages of wonderfulness. And then I remembered what my selective memory had pushed out of my mind--that our program notes had to be only one page. And, with great sadness (tears may have been present), I began to cut and whittle down my program notes to one teensy page.
But our director posted the extended version on the choir blog. And now I'm published! A little.
And that's why I'm proud as a peacock.
I spent a lot of time at the computer last week. Like every single spare moment. The project I was working on was an example of biting off more than I could chew. Almost. But luckily my kids took their mommy's little hiatus in stride, and were more than happy to watch a hundred movies and subsist on chicken nuggets, fruit snacks, and the occasional string cheese, washed down by sips of water from the bathroom sink.
The project I was working on is part of the culmination of something that I went out on a limb for ten weeks ago. A friend invited me to join her choir. When I asked about it she merely said, "It's the best part of my year." As for me, I thought the best part of my year wasn't getting off to a good start when I had to pay $45 for the music (because sometimes I’m too much of a tight wad to even rent a Redbox). But when we got a stack of 14 awesome (and some crazy) songs, and I did the math of how many rehearsals we had (10…okay, that wasn’t really hard math), and how fast paced this choir was going to be, I got a little excited.
Fast paced and exciting it was. And spiritual and moving and powerful it was. And totally different than I had been expecting, or would have even dared hope for in a non-audition choir. This is a description that comes from our choir blog.
WE ALSO SING
"We are 364 women who come from Ephraim to Logan. Many of us are wives and mothers. Some of us are divorced, widowed, single. We are housewives, employers, employees and students. Some of us are rich and struggling, others are poor and struggling. We laugh, we cry, we try to make a difference."
And now it's concert time! I spent the last week writing program notes for our concert, because I believe in the power of the music and of our incredible director and of our choir.
My final draft of a week's worth of work was four pages of wonderfulness. And then I remembered what my selective memory had pushed out of my mind--that our program notes had to be only one page. And, with great sadness (tears may have been present), I began to cut and whittle down my program notes to one teensy page.
But our director posted the extended version on the choir blog. And now I'm published! A little.
And that's why I'm proud as a peacock.
And if you want, JOIN OUR CHOIR! It WAS the best thing of my year. And I have big plans for it to be the best thing of my husband’s year, because I made him join this time around. I bet you a week’s worth of chicken nuggets, fruit snacks and cheese sticks that it will change you, too.
January 12, 2011
For the love of scissors
When I got to thinking about Eliza and scissors, I remembered that she has a history of inappropriate snipping that goes beyond her own hair (and poinsettias).
Including, but definitely not limited to...
--The ties on my bedroom quilt. Two of them were snipped right down to the little knots. I didn't even ask if it was Eliza. I just know. Without a shadow of a doubt. It's got her name written all over it.
--The princess pillowcase I sewed for her. (During the first week of her ownership, she cut the entire corner off. Why? "So I can see the pillow through it, Mom!"
Including, but definitely not limited to...
--The ties on my bedroom quilt. Two of them were snipped right down to the little knots. I didn't even ask if it was Eliza. I just know. Without a shadow of a doubt. It's got her name written all over it.
--The princess pillowcase I sewed for her. (During the first week of her ownership, she cut the entire corner off. Why? "So I can see the pillow through it, Mom!"
--Some parts of pictures. Do you recognize this one? (It's the after Eliza version.)
Here's the before Eliza version.
--Jewels. One of Eliza's very favorite past times is "making jewels" which means drawing colored circles on paper and cutting them out individually for collection in a jar. Here are pages of her jewels waiting to be cut out.
Also, have I ever mentioned that half of this blog is going to have to be deleted when Eliza learns to 1. read and 2. surf the internet? In the meantime, I consider it therapy for me.
January 11, 2011
1-11-11
Today is 1-11-11. I love exciting dates like that, and numbers. When I was little, I liked to do "math" on the clock--like pointing out (to anyone who would listen) that the clock said 11:55, and that was awesome because 55 divided by 11 is 5.
So given my love of numbers, you would have thought I could have caught a trend.
3. 1-11-11
Or, for those who prefer pictures to numbers,
 |
| 1. |
 |
| 2. |
 |
| 3. |
Given the observed arithmetic ratio of 10 months, with a standard deviation of 34 days [okay, I'm totally bluffing...I remember next to nothing from statistics], Eliza's next haircut will be on December 3, 2011. So mark your calendars, because starting on 11-11-11, I'm plastering mine with the gentle reminder: "HIDE ALL SCISSORS."
January 10, 2011
Cub scout letters to soldiers
(December 8, 2010)
A few weeks before Christmas I was looking for a good service opportunity for my cub scouts, but nothing seemed to pan out. We had made cookies the week before, so taking cookies to someone seemed lame. There was no snow to shovel, and it was too wet to rake leaves for the elderly. It was too cold to pick up trash. We had one too many singing-hating boys to Christmas carol anyone. The time was ticking down to the moment when six balls of energy would descend on my doorstep. In my desperation, I almost invented Elective 25: “Clean Your Den Leader’s Bathroom for a Christmas Service.”
But almost at the last minute a great idea came to me; we could write Christmas cards for soldiers serving overseas. It was the perfect project, since two of the boys’ dads have served overseas in the last few years.
When the boys arrived, I let them make up plates of nachos for a snack. After 20 minutes had passed, I had to call it quits on the “snacking,” since my six scouts (times three servings each) had managed to take out a huge two-pound bag of tortilla chips, an additional two pounds of grated cheese, a jar of salsa, and one teaspoon of beans amongst them.
With their bellies full, the scouts spoke not a word, but went straight to their work (well, sort of). Armed with construction paper and sharpies, the boys resumed their weekly challenge of who could say the silliest thing in the loudest possible voice, and not focus on their task.
A really funny thing about 9-year-old boys is that they have no issue with how stinky it gets when they take off their shoes, or how nonsensical their jokes are, but when you ask them to write in a thank you card, they suddenly clam up, and spend as much time covering their work so no one will see their ever-so-personal message: “Thank you. From, David” written in cursive handwriting, and sometimes accompanied by a picture of a light saber or basketball.
I didn’t get to supervise the card-making very closely, since I was busy sweeping grated cheese out of every crevice of my hardwood floor and trying not to look like I have OCD…but, seriously, how can nine year olds drop SO MUCH FOOD on the floor?
Later that night, when not a creature was stirring, I finally stopped to read the cards. I know I didn’t ask for “Media Release” forms on these, so I won’t be contacting Hallmark, but I hope no one from the BSA sues me for sharing some of the messages destined for a few lucky soldiers. Need I say that all the original spelling and punctuation has been preserved?
Letter #1:
I am thankful for you awsome and honorabable and brave soldiers.
God bless America!
Call me! [phone number, including area code]
--[First, middle and last name], age 9
Letter #2:
my dad went to war. His name is [name] have you met him. You guys rock. Merry Christmas! Love, [full name], age 9
Letter #3:
dear mr. soldier dude
you are doing a good job serving our country. I bet you miss your family. I wish you a merry Christmas. Thank you for defending our country. See you later mr. soilder dude. [full name, address, phone]
Letter #4:
dear soilder,
thank you for giving us freedom You are doing good. I know you miss your family. Merry Christmas soilder I hope you do good I hope you kill all the bad guys and win look at the back. Love, [name].
[On the back was a full-length picture of himself he had cut out of one of the photos we had for our den scrapbook]
In hindsight, I should have taped up a big sign with the correct spelling of “Soldier” on it, and we’re definitely not having nachos again for a while, but I think it was a good activity.
“Happy Christmas to all [soldiers and their families] and to all a good night.”
Holiday Picture Catchup
Lily caught redhanded.
All Eliza wants for [next] Christmas is a bangs trim.
Whose job was it to clean the glass behind the fireplace? Perhaps that person's time would be better spent learning how to photoshop out fingerprints on glass!
After I put up our Christmas decorations, Eliza took it upon herself (daily and sometimes hourly) to rearrange them in a more beautiful way. Here is the fireplace mantel after Eliza moved half the room onto it.
And here is Eliza's "Santa" shelf.
More of Eliza's handiwork
Making neighbor gifts this year. (Hot chocolate on a stick)
Eliza decided to trim the poinsettia plant, and spread the Christmas cheer throughout the house. (I should be grateful it wasn't on the fireplace mantel, too.)
Lily being cute while I worked on presents. (My kids have spent way more time squished into this crib than any of their dolls have.)
Catching up with some old Notre Dame friends, the Mears.
(The Mear kids and Sage back at Notre Dame...thank goodness Kelly taught me to fix little girls' hair)
Happy holidays, from the Williams family who did not get out any Christmas cards this year.
January 7, 2011
A goal to create
'Tis the time for New Year's Resolutions, which is right up my alley. I've neglected this little blog during the last few months since I received the call to teach an adult Sunday School class on the Old Testament.
I wrote a lot of half-finished, never-posted blog entries, but my heart and imagination were fixated on the Messianic prophecies of Isaiah, the Babylonian captivity, the hidden treasures about temples (Ezekiel 40-47), and how to share my passion with others in a meaningful way.
But still, my soul yearns to create.
"The desire to create is one of the deepest yearnings of the human soul. No matter our talents, education, backgrounds or abilities, we each have an inherent wish to create something that did not exist before." (Dieter F. Uchtdorf)
Next to crafting a good lesson and making tasty chocolate chip cookies, the way I love to create the most is through writing.
Last month, my mom asked me to write a Christmas program script for a very different audience than this blog ever reaches. It took me a while, and stretched some new muscles, but when I was done I felt grateful for the chance to create something meaningful.
So much of my day is filled with repetitive acts, like cooking, cleaning and exercise, which totally build character (and sometimes threaten sanity), that I have gotten into a rut of not making time for meaningful creation.
And so this week's Comprehensive Reform (aka New Year's Resolutions for those with Goal-Setting OCD) will feature a new item: Create something meaningful by dusting off the half-finished thoughts of the past three months and posting them each day this week. I've got lots to share, from how the Old Testament influenced my thoughts about airport security, to cub scout letters to soldiers, to my first dip into musicology. That may not sound exciting, but I feel excited by the prospect of bringing meaning and creation into my daily life.
How about you? What is your preferred form of creation? To jumpstart your thinking, I've included one of Eliza's creations. The medium is white paper, and adornments include dry pasta, fresh pine needles, and even an entire hot glue gun stick. I think it's a Christmas piece. Possibly.
And Sage recently wrote a story for her uncle's birthday and made darling puppets on paint sticks (my mom's genius idea) to go with it.
I wrote a lot of half-finished, never-posted blog entries, but my heart and imagination were fixated on the Messianic prophecies of Isaiah, the Babylonian captivity, the hidden treasures about temples (Ezekiel 40-47), and how to share my passion with others in a meaningful way.
But still, my soul yearns to create.
"The desire to create is one of the deepest yearnings of the human soul. No matter our talents, education, backgrounds or abilities, we each have an inherent wish to create something that did not exist before." (Dieter F. Uchtdorf)
Next to crafting a good lesson and making tasty chocolate chip cookies, the way I love to create the most is through writing.
Last month, my mom asked me to write a Christmas program script for a very different audience than this blog ever reaches. It took me a while, and stretched some new muscles, but when I was done I felt grateful for the chance to create something meaningful.
So much of my day is filled with repetitive acts, like cooking, cleaning and exercise, which totally build character (and sometimes threaten sanity), that I have gotten into a rut of not making time for meaningful creation.
And so this week's Comprehensive Reform (aka New Year's Resolutions for those with Goal-Setting OCD) will feature a new item: Create something meaningful by dusting off the half-finished thoughts of the past three months and posting them each day this week. I've got lots to share, from how the Old Testament influenced my thoughts about airport security, to cub scout letters to soldiers, to my first dip into musicology. That may not sound exciting, but I feel excited by the prospect of bringing meaning and creation into my daily life.
How about you? What is your preferred form of creation? To jumpstart your thinking, I've included one of Eliza's creations. The medium is white paper, and adornments include dry pasta, fresh pine needles, and even an entire hot glue gun stick. I think it's a Christmas piece. Possibly.
lAnd Lily's been hard at work creating new hideouts where she can scarf stolen goodies in privacy.
And Sage recently wrote a story for her uncle's birthday and made darling puppets on paint sticks (my mom's genius idea) to go with it.
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