Talking In Circles

One would think that as a marriage matures so would the communication skills.  That would be a wrong assumption if you were talking about us, however.  We seem to get more and more confused as the years progress.

We've always talked in circles. I believe there are multiple blog posts to prove that.  What surprises me though, is that it KEEPS happening.  Maybe it's Chuck's way of keeping the laughter alive or keeping me on my toes or keeping my brain synapses on high alert.  But after 16 years, we still have conversations that just go nowhere and make no sense.  Does this happen to other people?

Take the other day for example.  I wasn't feeling very well; very lethargic and achy.  We were in the car on the way to somewhere.  This is what I heard Chuck tell me:
"I think there is an app in store for you when we get home."

My ever so patient response:
"I don't know what that means."

So, since I obviously didn't  hear it clearly the first time, he just repeats exactly what he said the first time only louder because that's what you do when someone says they don't understand something, right?
"I THINK THERE IS AN APP IN STORE FOR YOU WHEN WE GET HOME."

Still not having a clue I mumble:
"What kind of app can help me feel better?  Is this some magical phone you have?"  Because sarcasm always makes a conversation that much better.

He finally understands my lack of understanding and starts to laugh:
"Ahhh, now I see....I didn't say 'app', I said, 'nap'.  But I guess I can see how you heard it that way.  I think you should take a nap when we get home."

I actually shook my head in agreement which meant I really felt horrible because I hate to take naps or even use apps, for that matter.  Chuck seems to have an app for everything, so it wouldn't have surprised me if he was relying on his phone to help make me better.

Maybe we should take a class together on how to enunciate and not mumble...maybe that would solve all our problems.  But then where would the laughter come from?  At this rate, we're going to be the happiest, laughingest old people you've ever seen.

Our Morning Hike

When I woke up this morning, I remembered that we hadn't been to our favorite park, Schaar's Bluff, yet to photograph the fall colors.  I took the kids there for the first time last year by myself, without my camera.  I then proceeded to kick myself for an entire year because I missed the most amazing photo op.  When the kids and I took Daddy (and the camera) back the next weekend, the colors had already faded.  You have to time this just right.  Looks like we hit the jackpot today!  The more I'm in nature the more the beauty, serenity and majesty of it all fills my soul.  I stand in awe of the Creator of such good gifts.  My soul is full of his love for me when I'm out here.  I hope you feel this same love through these pictures.  I'll let the pictures speak for themselves.  

Group Work

At Gavin's parent/teacher conference last week, the teacher had only good things to say about  how well he was doing in relation to his grades (only).  And then he paused a moment and addressed Gavin, "How do you feel about group work, Gavin?"

With zero emotion on his face and in the most monotone, lowest voice he could muster he pronounces once and for all, "I don't work well with others."

Yes.  Read that again.  My son actually said that ALOUD to another human in a position of authority and leadership that could affect his overall grade and life.

I was scrambling to help save face.  I know my son infinitely better than this teacher who has known him for all of 6 weeks.  I know his antisocial tendencies.  I'm intimately familiar with his lack of enthusiasm when it comes to talking with other human beings.  And I don't consider any of these things a negative because I know who he is.  He is a highly introverted thinker.  He hates to interrupt when others are talking (which you often have to in group work situations in order to get heard).  He is a very private person.  He rarely shares his emotions, even with me, partly because he has no idea how he is feeling.  He is a person who is stuck in his head most of the time.  And there is absolutely NOTHING wrong with that.  He is comfortable in his skin.

But in public school, where the one-size-fits-all mentality thrives, that becomes a big problem.  It becomes a liability.  Because most schools, be they private, public or co-operative learning centers, expect group work to be done regardless of each kids' individual learning style.  The extroverts come out shining in most group work scenarios.  The introverts end up either doing all the work because the rest of the group doesn't care as much about the project as they do, or they got stuck with the least appealing part of the project because they are too apprehensive to speak up (I only know this from experience).  The introvert also tends to get looked down upon because they don't thrive in this environment  therefore, the conclusion goes, they must not be giving it their all, not trying hard enough.

Without apologizing for my son's statement or excusing his behavior in group work away, I simply explained to his teacher that he is highly introverted and not comfortable in larger group situations (he does just fine in a group of 2 or in situations where you can pick your group).  Simply because he doesn't happen to possess group work skills does not equal that he does not understand the assignment or subject he is being taught.  I told him that Gavin is aware that group work will be very common in his high school classes and even though he doesn't necessarily like it, he knows the challenge of it will make him grow.

Thankfully, the teacher seemed satisfied with my answer but looked warily at Gavin.  My momma bear instincts are on high alert.  I left the conference with the statement to the teacher that this happened to be Gavin's favorite class which seemed to make the teacher happy, even if he couldn't fathom Gavin's honest answer.

After that awkward little moment, I decided it was time to coach Gavin in the fine art of making things sound better than they actually are.  I informed him, "Honey, please do not tell another adult, or anyone for that matter, that you don't like working with other people even though that is a true statement.  Put a positive spin on it like, 'I work great in groups of one or two people.'  Doesn't that sound better?"  I have been his social skills teacher his entire life and apparently dropped the ball on this one, I never saw it coming.

It's the quirks of each of our children that make them special to us and the world.  Why does the world insist we all fit in the same box?  Why can't these beautiful differences be used to the best of their advantage?  Why are kids made to feel bad, weird, self-conscious about their uniqueness?  I definitely see the benefit of doing things you're not good at to help grow you mentally, emotionally, physically, spiritually and academically.  Both Gavin and I accept that years of upcoming group work are inevitable and that he will indeed grow through it and become a good 'faker'.  But he never has to give up being who he is at the core just to please people.

Togetherness

Last school year, Gavin got out earlier than Chloe and Bennett enabling us to spend some quality time together sharing the events of our days with each other.  This year, his school day is much longer.  He gets home while I'm picking Bennett up from school.  Yet, surprisingly, we've fallen into an unexpected pattern of still getting to share our days with one another.  Once he's done with his homework and before I start preparing dinner, he and I take Ninja on a walk together.  It is during this uninterrupted time together I get to hear all about each class, what he's thinking and how he's doing.  Sometimes we walk in silence just enjoying each other and the weather.  I treasure this unexpected routine and am so thankful I have a son who loves to share his time with me.

Listen To Me

Let's just say that we have had a few listening issues going on in this house betwixt the adults and the children.  And let's just say that the adults keep sighing in exasperation because none of their bag of tricks have worked thus far when enticing the young ones to listen.  And let's continue saying that the adults were dangling at the end of their collective rope and were ready to institute the "Yell and Intimidate" routine with the children so at least they would listen out of fear if nothing else.

It's not like our kids are doing the opposite of what we say.  And it's not like they spitefully go out of their way to not listen.  Oh contraire.  Upon meeting any one of my offspring, you may be thinking, "What in the world is that woman complaining about?  Those kids are just great."  But then you wouldn't have had the pleasure of spending 24 hours with them.  All. Alone.

See, our little listening demon comes in the form of "Oh...sorry, Mom, I just forgot."  On everything!  Homework.  Chores.  The last thing I asked them to do.  I just don't buy the "I forgot" excuse for one second.  I do, however, buy the "I'm Tuning You Out" excuse.  On the outside I'm getting, "oh ya, sure  Mom" and "okay, I'll do that" only to appease me.  They know that I, too, have the worst short term memory and they're counting on that to kick in before they go and do the dreaded chore and activity I've asked of them.  But on the inside they're busy thinking of birds, basketballs, books and buddys.

No more.  Chuck and I decided to once and for all time, emphasize the importance of listening.  It came in the form of a little game.  We ditched our "Intimation" tactics and opted for "heaping on the guilt" instead.  Just joking.  No, we opted to teach them a lesson they'll not soon forget.

Chuck and I completely rearranged our family room, moving furniture all about.  We placed random obstacles all around the floor.  We placed props in certain places that they would have to lift or move upon our direction.  We were giddy with excitement.  We told the kids to lock themselves and the dog in a room while we were formulating our genius plan (surprisingly they listened to that directive).

And then we blindfolded them.  We took one kid at a time out of the room.  We gave them three instructions: 1.  You must ONLY listen to MY voice (whichever parent was giving the instruction), 2.  You must keep your hands glued to your side, and 3.  You may not reach your foot out in front of you to feel around, walk as normal.  Then we brought them downstairs into our new domain.

If I was the one giving the directions to the blindfolded child, then Chuck was the one standing uncomfortingly close to them and whispering into their ear the opposite of what I was saying.  He kept contradicting my directions.  It was almost impossible for me not to laugh.  I kept getting ruffled and messed up.  I had to remain focused so I could give the kids sound advice about how to navigate the obstacle course.  I don't know who had to concentrate harder, me or the kids.  You could tell there were a few times when they hesitated, like when Chuck told them to watch out, if they took one more step they'd fall down the stairs and I 'm telling them at the same time to take 4 steps.  Or like the time we told them to pick up the bowl and put it over their head and then dump it over.  It was only filled with cotton balls, but they didn't know that.

After we worked our magic on Chloe, my ever perceptive child said immediately upon removing her blindfold, "I know what you were doing...you were like God, Mom (since I was the one directing her) and Dad was like the devil and I had to work extra hard to only listen to you."  Well...yes, that too dear.  But we were hoping you would see the importance of listening to us even and especially when you're distracted.  Everything we tell you is out of love and for your good.  Sometimes it is extra hard to listen, but when you do, you know it will go well with you.  I think they learned more about listening to God than to us, to be honest.  But apparently, that was the bigger lesson we were supposed to be teaching them.

The kids thanked us over and over the rest of the day for such a fun activity that we reverted to only out of desperation.  Goes to show that when you hit rock bottom, the only way to go from there is up.  I think we're on our way up in the listening department now.

*I'd like to thank the book "Creative Correction" for the inspiration for the obstacle course.

A Lakota Prayer

This past weekend we had the awesome opportunity to go to the National Eagle Center in Wabasha, MN.  It was wonderful to get up close and personal with many of these magnificent raptors.  The Center was having a special celebration the day we were there which included a Native American Hoop Dancer and storyteller.  He was by far, the best part of the whole day.  He shared with us so much history in the short time he was there. 

They invited him to participate in the day because the eagle shares great honor and significance among the Native Americans.  We learned that the eagle represents the ascending human spirit.  Each of their feathers represents virtues.  The hoops that Mr. Loke dances with, combine to make many different shapes and pictures, which of course, also have great meaning.  Here he is near the end of his dance with all his hoops arranged to represent eagles wings.  It was unlike anything I've ever seen.

But the absolute best part was the prayer of the Lakota that he and his nephew, Doug Goodfeather, sung before they began.  It is so humble, yet powerful.  I haven't been able to stop meditating on it.

Oh, Great Spirit, whose voice I hear in the winds.

And whose breath gives life to all the world.

Hear me! I am small and weak.

I need your strength and wisdom.

Let me walk in beauty, and make my eyes

Ever hold the red and purple sunset.

Make my hands respect the things you have made.

My ears sharp to hear your voice.

Make me wise so that I may understand

The things you might teach me.

Let me learn the lessons you have hidden

In every leaf and rock.

I seek strength, not to be greater than my brother.

But to fight my greatest enemy, myself.

Make me always ready to come to you

With clear hands and straight eyes.

So when life fades, as the fading sunset.

My spirit may come to you without shame

Could It Be?

Pain, heartache, brokenness, sorrow
Wondering how in the world you will face tomorrow.

Hardship, anger, loneliness, despair
Wondering if anyone even gives a care.

Abandoned, distraught, hurt, afraid
Praying this all goes away some day.

"What have I done wrong?"
"Where is God in all this?"
"If I only try harder, had more money, pray more,
then maybe things wouldn't be so amiss."

As followers of Jesus, believers in God
What is the way we are to respond
When suffering sneaks into our life
And cuts our hearts deep with its careless knife?

David questioned, cried and lamented.
It was towards God that he yelled and vented.
Job lost everything and everyone he held dear.
And questioned the love of the God that he feared.
Jesus, as a man, was acquainted with sorrow
He asked his Father if this cup of suffering could pass by him tomorrow.

The common thread in these stories of woe
Is they cried out to God, before Him did they go
Expressing their feelings of desperate sorrow
Yet somehow trusting He really cared even if they didn't know
The whys or the answers or the reasons behind
Yet choosing "Your will be done....not mine."

Could it be that our suffering serves some greater good
That we can't see with these human eyes like we should?
Could it be that sometimes the hardest path
Isn't set before us because of God's wrath?
Could it be that He's guiding us, loving us, growing us too
Using these hardships because He knew
There's no other way we'd come to the end of ourself
Completely dependent on Him for Life and nobody else?



photo credit: BY AYIBA TEAM

Farm Life

You know it's been a special day when you've gotten peed on by one of 7 dogs, pet a turkey and ridden a 4 wheeler all in one day!  Those were just a few of the highlights of our most recent farm visit.  Apparently, Floppy (the dog who peed on me) was claiming me as 'his'.  He was very happy to mark me and let all the other dogs know that he had first dibs.  Good thing I wore my 'farm clothes' which included my old jeans.  I had contemplated wearing shorts - good call on my part to ditch the shorts and opt for my oldest pair of jeans.  And then there was Lurch:

Yes...he is not your typical tom turkey.  He roams the property, just one more of the many animals Aunt Lou has a huge heart for.  He is missing many feathers because apparently the chickens don't like him.  They have plucked many of his feathers out.  He likes to follow you around, hissing and making his cackle call every now and then; sometimes terrorizing the dogs.  I wasn't brave enough to pet his head, but I did get a swipe of his back feathers.

Aunt Lou also took the kids horse back riding.  Chloe was in her element...she could do this all day.  She loves the smell, the dirt, the sweat and the work that goes along with horses.  Whenever I reached out to brush the dirt or grime off her face or hair, she would stop me and say, "I like it there, Mom, please leave it."  Bennett and Gavin enjoyed it I think as much as they enjoy eating brussel sprouts.

But then Uncle Joel broke out he big guns - the four wheeler.  He even let Chuck have the first solo ride.  While Chloe is riding horses and being dirty all day, her father would probably be right by her side smelling of fuel and caked in dust from riding the four wheeler until it runs out of gas.

The kids couldn't wipe those silly grins off their faces.  They LOVED that 4 wheeled wonder!  It empowered them and brought out their wild side.  Speaking of wild side, I decided to throw caution to the wind and lift my hands in a care-free, risk-taking sort of way that people often do when they're trying to show that they're not scared.  See...I'm not scared.   And I'm smiling...that means I'm having fun.

What happens at the farm...stays at the farm.

Gavin's Confession

With his enormous bright smile lighting up his face, he ascends the stairs and says, "Mom, I have something to tell you.  The other day at school, someone was bending down getting a drink of water at the water fountain.  I had this compelling urge to push his head into the water... [at this point he is laughing so hysterically at the mere thought of this ever happening that he can hardly continue with this tale of great comedic value]...but don't worry.  I didn't act on this urge."

"Oooohkay....thanks....for that....story.  I don't really know what to say.  Um. I, too, am glad you did not act on your 'compelling urge'.  Have a nice day."

Chuck was a quiet bystander as Gavin relayed his fantasy dastardly deed to me.  I turned around to him and asked, "Did that conversation just happen?  Only Gavin would think to put it in those terms and also confess to me that he even thought it."

Chuck said, "Ya.  The difference between me and him is that I would have actually done it."

Continuing Education (for parents)

Last week before everyone left for school/work we were just hanging around in the living room talking.  Chuck was lamenting about how the autumnal equinox was upon us.  Yes.  I know.  He actually used that exact phraseology.  He must have read it off his phone or something cuz that's not a phrase we go around speaking of very often.

He then asked, "I wonder what equinox means?" since we obviously already knew what autumnal meant.  It was early (pre 7am) and our conversations are never super deep this time of the day anyways, so this discussion was going nowhere fast.  We hemmed and hawed aloud together about possible meanings.  We kept throwing out lofty concepts like, "It probably has something to do with the sun" and "maybe it's about our position in relation to the sun".... ad nausium.

Mercifully, Gavin rescued us from embarrassing ourselves even further.  He interrupted our deep thought processes and in his loud, professor-like voice proceeded to instruct us lesser humans, "Uh, Mom, Dad.  It just means that on that one day the day and the night are equal to each other.  You have the same number of daylight hours as you do hours of darkness."

Chuck and I looked at each other and our eyes spoke volumes.  Thankfully, we didn't open our mouths.  We then told him it was time to go to school and gave him a big hug and shoved him out the door to go learn more stuff like that.

We will be ready when the spring equinox hits.  Trust me.

Fear is...

Fear is a stain,

It discolors reality.

Fear is a blanket in summer,

It burdens you needlessly.

Fear is a cage,

It locks you in and keeps others out.

Fear is sin,

It brings death to your soul.

Fear is darkness,

It blots out the light.

Fear is a captor,

It binds you with burdens.

Fear is a judge,

It sentences you without listening to your case.

Fear is a mask,

It hides the beauty within.

Fear is a bomb,

It explodes in your heart, brain and emotions.

Fear is ignorance,

It keeps reason at bay.

Fear is control

It is a familiar place I go to hide alone.

Fear is the opposite of faith,

It demands you understand before you trust.

Fear is the absence of love,

It is self preservation.

Fear keeps me dependent on me

And separated from Jesus.

When I acknowledge my fear,

When I yield it to my Savior,

His love envelops me

And fear dissolves under its weight.

I am free.

Fear is...gone!

We Have A Thing For Fruit

These past two weekends have been quite "fruitful" for us, you might say.  Apparently, we have a thing for picking fruit.  Or if we're not picking it, we're stomping on it.  I went back through some of my picture archives and found that over the years we have done lots and lots of picking of these:

Now we can add picking these to our ever growing list of things we like to pick off bushes/trees:

Minnesota seems to have an apple farm within a 5 mile radius of anywhere you go.  So, we thought it would be fun to pick apples off the trees instead of off the shelf of the grocery store.  But...maybe we picked the wrong apple orchard, or the wrong time of day, or the wrong part of the season because when we got there, we found more apples (and gardener snakes) on the ground than on the trees.

This is how we had to pick apples:

We had to send the brave ones up into the trees and climb as high as they could to get the ones on the very tippy top of the over-grown trees.  But even then, most of those apples were pock-marked with holes from birds or who knows what else.  

My dreams of walking through the orchard with a bushel basket of apples idealistically swinging from my arm was quickly fading.   Instead were the shrieks of "ew", "gross", "can we go now".    We could only find 5 acceptable apples to put in our beautiful basket.  So, we promptly walked back to the barn and picked up a pre-filled, ice cold bag of pre-picked apples for double what we would have paid at the grocery store.  $15 and 15 minutes later, dashed were our dreams of adding a new fruit to our ever expanding list of things we like to pick.

But have no fear, we found another fruit.  Instead of picking this fruit, we got to stomp on it!  Bonus.  We went to the annual St. Croix Vineyards Grape Stomp in Stillwater.  I had visions of this in my head:

Let's just say, that's not how they do it any more.  I would have loved it if I could have worn that get-up while stomping grapes in a teeny barrel.  But what no one tells you is that there are bees swarming all around and inside the barrel is full of wet, mushy, sticky, gooey, stainy grapes.  This was our experience in pictures:

Chuck was actually part of a contest with other adults to see who could stomp the 'best'.  He won a corkscrew for his efforts.

Chloe was in the barrel long enough to take the picture and promptly jumped back out.  This was not her cup of tea.

Bennett is having a little too much fun.  He's already splashed grape juice up the front and down the back of his shirt.   He's an 'aggressive stomper'.  I am having issues with the texture (and trying to stay free of grape juice stain).  Gavin's sensory issues and fear of bees would not even permit him to come anywhere close to those barrels of death.  He preferred sitting in the 70 degree weather and bemoaning how dreadfully 'hot' it was.  

But we did walk away with a picturesque shot (that Chuck took) of the stain that the grapes made on the floor.  Overall, it was a once in a lifetime experience.  Next time I'd rather pick the grapes instead of stomp on them.