I'm thankful for . . .

. . . a preschool Thanksgiving program.

. . . our little turkey who sings well and sits through the whole program.

. . . a table set for many.

. . . a father who helps his daughter form six dozen rolls.

. . . a fabulous family surrounding a table teeming with toothsome treats.

. . . sweet nieces and nephews.

. . . a family who enjoys impromptu kazoo/tin whistle renditions of "How Firm a Foundation."


. . . a wonderful Thanksgiving day ending in the traditional "candy in the leaves" hunt, replete with fun for child and adult alike.

Mixing things up

Have you ever heard of PlayFoam?

It's kind of funky--little balls of styrofoam that stick to each other and don't ever dry out (supposedly). Clara loves textures, and she really enjoys playing with this stuff. It doesn't stick to your hands at all and can be formed into all sorts of shapes.

However, I never let her mix the colors. This also goes for play-doh. I am vehemently opposed to the unpleasant gray mass that is created whenever play-doh is mixed together, so I only let Clara play with one color at a time. Is that mean of me or what?


Today, I let Clara mix the colors of the PlayFoam. And I mixed them together, too.

It was kind of liberating. But I'm still keeping the play-doh separated . . . I can only go so far.

A birthday and other happenings

Michael turned thirty-one years old. It continues to feel very weird that we are no longer in our "early twenties."

We had lots of yummy food today (on which I overindulged since it was a "break day" from my no-dessert challenge) in celebration, and we also enjoyed a wonderful visit from parents this weekend. Happy birthday, Sweetheart.

Last weekend, we enjoyed a quick visit from Michael's younger brother and his wife, Caleb and Shannyn, and their two cute kids, Clark and Jane. Clara thought Clark was pretty cool and even allowed him to wear her backpack at one point.

There's nothing like having great friends to whom you are also related. Wish we lived closer to our siblings!

Thirteen thoughts for Friday the 13th

1. Don't ever let your child push a puzzle box with screws on the bottom eight feet across your hardwood floor.

2. Don't try to fix previously-mentioned scratches with a magic eraser.

3. Don't bring couscous on a picnic.

4. Don't bring quesadillas on a picnic.

5. You can add yeast to bread dough after it's mixed if you realize you forgot to add it. It will rise and taste fine, although it might not be quite as fluffy.

6. Buying an expensive pair of eyeglasses and then losing it isn't a good idea. Or a set of car keys.

7. You'll regret eating that. You think you won't, but trust me. You will.

8. Hairbows on little girls make the lamest outfit look cute.

9. Mrs. Meyer's Everyday cleaner in geranium smells lovely. I don't know if it cleans better, but it makes me feel better.

10. Low-fat sour cream tastes so much better than fat-free. It's worth the extra calories.

11. Vinegar and water really do work to clean the mirror.

12. Never put an adult-size q-tip in a child's ear.

13. Keep a portable potty in your trunk, even after your child is potty-trained. It really comes in handy.

Halloween continued

In honor of the Halloween season being finally over, Michael and I have shaken hands and committed to having a dessert-free month until Thanksgiving. Well, we are going to take one day off for his birthday. For those of you who know me well, it ain't gonna be easy. But I will prevail!

In the meantime, I shall reminisce.


We actually didn't take Clara trick-or-treating because we'd already gone to the church Halloween festival and gotten gobs of candy. Plus, I was tired of getting her dressed up. Fortunately she was none the wiser.

After Clara had gone to bed, I couldn't resist dumping all her candy out and organizing like I did in the good ole' days. There is something so irresistible and alluring about opening a bag full of candy and smelling that smell. The smell of goodness. And temptation.

At Clara's preschool, they had a little Halloween parade--check out the sweet Scooby Doo costume some kid is wearing.

Princess Clara. She had debated being a vampire, a witch, or a ghost, so I was relieved when princess was the order of the day (especially since we already had the shoes and dress in her dress-up clothes).

The traditional pumpkin carving attempt. I asked Clara what kind of face she wanted and she finally settled on "a surprised face."


By the way, join in on our dessert-free contest if you'd like. We can be strong together.

Halloween party

We threw a costume party Friday night.

Bloody signs courtesy of my artistic husband.

I like luminaries.

Remember this post? I thought our Harry and Ginny ensembles worked out pretty well. I made the ties, which aren't really real ties, but they worked from a distance.

Check out these sweet treats some friends brought. The note says, "Warning: Contains eyes."

A pregnant angel and her devil husband, with our friend Lindsay in the back (who came with her nearly newborn baby--wow).

Our friends and fellow co-hosts, Adam and Janie, dressed up as Hermione and Ron. Adam's wig was hilariously awesome. This was our "serious" shot . . . I lamented to Janie that I am incapable of doing the "serious and sultry" look but pull off the "deer in the headlights" look most admirably.

Hermione and Harry discussing over dinner.

Most of the gang. I am so mad, but I forgot to take a picture of one couple--the wife, Becky, is pictured in front in the doctor's outfit. Her husband was dressed as a grim reaper, and they came as "traditional health insurance" and "the public option," informing everyone that they had to guess which was which.

The Grease duo and a 20s duo.

After the fire died down and most of our guests left, Michael got some golf tips from our friend Allen.

It was a fun night.

The Enemy

"The better is the enemy of the good." Francois de Voltaire


We've all been given talents. Lately, however, I've been feeling like "a jack of all trades and a master of none." (Okay, a jack of only a few trades.) So when a new, possibly upshot soprano joined my chamber choir recently, of course I felt intimidated, my talent wasn't very good, how dare she have an amazing voice, I wasn't needed anymore, and why was I even trying when there would always be someone better? etc.

Ahhh. Confessing always makes me feel better.

Anyhoo, I want to embrace the fact that being so-so, mediocre, or average at a skill isn't bad. It's fine. It's better to be average at something than to just bury your head in the ground entirely. (At least, that's what I'm trying to convince myself.) There must be a balance between improving yourself and being content with who you are.

This issue bleeds into other areas--there are so many things that moms can do or be involved in nowadays . . . and not just involved in; they have to be amazing at it, too. It's not just about the washing and the ironing and the cooking and the cleaning and the slaughtering anymore. No, now it's replaced with what the modern mommy should be doing:

keeping an organized home
staying fit and skinny (preferably through running 10Ks and/or marathons)
maintaining beautiful hair
(I know you envy me)
blogging
sewing
quilting
canning
building a year's supply
photography
gardening
music
studying scriptures
magnifying her calling
sharing the gospel
doing family history
baking whole wheat bread
cutting coupons
reading intelligent books

Oh, and need I add, raising beautiful, intelligent, sociable, polite, exceedingly precocious children?

(She may not be all of the above, but I wouldn't trade her for any other child on the whole planet.)


I want to empower myself to let go of the things I feel I ought to do (but don't want to) and give myself time for the things I want to do but don't. Why do I sometimes feel like I should do what everyone else is doing? Do I actually even enjoy that particular activity?

I recently made a list entitled "My Life Priorities." And you know what?

None of the above were listed on it.


Okay, I jest. But like Voltaire said, those who are merely good at a particular skill can feel intimidated or even disheartened by those who excel. Not that it's bad to excel, mind you. But it's okay to just be good at something. Or merely okay. Or downright terrible.

I like what James of the New Testament had to say: "If any many offend not in word, the same is a perfect man."

Now that's a goal I can wrap my mind around--instead of worrying about all the STUFF I feel like I should be doing or focusing on skills I'm not good at, how about I try to perfect myself by controlling this waggling tongue of mine?

How about I try to excel at things that matter?


Actually, I've decided to pare my life priority list down to one thing that I can be really good at:

eating

Oh, that wasn't on the list? Dang.


How about complaining?

A trip to Harrisonburg, VA

We just got back from a great trip up to Virginia to check out another orthodontic practice. (Thank you AGAIN for watching Clara, wonderful grandparents.)

Harrisonburg is in the Shenandoah Valley, and it is lovely at this time of year. We even were surprised with snow, a bear, and lots of deer when we went up to the mountains for a short hike. Here are a few glimpses, caption-free.

A favorite children's author: Shirley Hughes

Months ago, I happened upon an "Alfie" book as I was perusing the children's library books, selecting the actual books I would be checking out instead of the ones Clara was piling up on the floor (I'm a terrible mom, I know.)


Oh, how I was enthralled. Where do I begin?

The illustrations: The pictures are whimsical, charming, winsome, and engaging. The facial expressions are fabulous and the whole book just makes you want to dive in and live there.

The stories: Hughes perfectly captures everyday life experiences of a British family--in the, what, mid-50s?--and tells them in such a captivating way. Alfie and Annie Rose have lots of books, but she's also written one called Dogger and several about Lucy and Tom and some other children. We've read about fifteen of her books, I'm guessing, and I wish I could own every one of them. Or any one of them, for that matter.



I don't know if her style only appeals to some people, but it certainly appealed to me. In fact, I love this lady so much I'm thinking about naming a child after her. (What do you think, honey? Okay, maybe if we ever get a dog. How about then?)

Check out Shirley Hughes today. You won't regret it. And if you do, give that book right back to the library so a more appreciative soul can check it out.

Just routine

"Create a daily schedule. . . . This will help [your child] understand and prioritize what he needs to accomplish each day" (Raising a Sensory Smart Child, p. 224).

I have read this and many variations on this theme in so many developmental books: a schedule will help you and your child. Especially for children who have transition challenges and motor planning problems, many experts tout that a schedule is very helpful.

Oh, how I have fought it.

It probably seems counter-intuitive that a person like me (read: likes to be in control and likes things orderly) would be so against making a "schedule" for Clara (i.e. me). Don't get me wrong--I've started ones before, but without success. I find that as soon as I feel reined in by a schedule, I feel I have to fight against it and scrap the whole thing entirely. I like to control my schedule and not feel controlled by it.

Does this make any sense?

ANYWAY, as time has passed, Michael and I have felt that having a predictable routine would be very helpful for us as well as for Clara. So we finally did it. We compromised with the "daily schedule" concept and made up a morning and a night routine. It's a happy compromise because what with preschool three days a week, physical therapy, occupational therapy, ballet, and adaptive aquatics, the rest of our day is scheduled enough as it is.

We also threw in a chore chart, a toileting routine reminder, and a "family rules" list for good measure.

Boy do we feel empowered.

Check out this sweet morning routine, ably illustrated by my husband. (Don't you think he missed his calling as an artist?)


Here's the night routine.


I posted them by Clara's bed (note the nice canister of chili powder Clara placed on her nightstand).

Can I just tell you what a sense of peace and consistency we're feeling? Clara expects it, and we have a visual reminder for ourselves because quite frankly, sometimes we forget all our good parenting intentions.

Don't you love these pictures?! The consequence for not doing "the steps" as we call them (Clara has SUCH a hard time doing these): Mr. Bear goes on the shelf because he doesn't like dirty hands. It's a pretty good motivator.


Our family rules, complete with consequences as appropriate.


"Clara bear's chore chart"--I got this idea from my sister-in-law Shannyn who did a way cooler chore chart.

Having a predictable morning and night routine makes us all happy.


Giddy, in fact.

Pretty darn good

Camping with some of our favorite people.

Helpful tent setter-upper.

Staying up late.

Three giddy girls tracking dirt into a tent and sleeping bags.


Finding sea shells by the side of a lake.


Sleeping in, a leisurely Sunday breakfast, two days of hearing the voice of a prophet and twelve apostles.


Yeah, this weekend was pretty great.