Saturday, August 22, 2009

Emotive Minnesotan

I was not raised to send greeting cards and hand written notes at every occasion. I was not raised to rejoice loudly and vocally. In fact interpersonal conversation involving anything I truly felt or thought was not highly encouraged. Most of this is part of my Minnesota cultural heritage. Emotion expend too much energy when we have to keep warm (at -60) and chop the fire wood.

Often times our attempt to share our emotions end up as a few brief words describing what we see or did rather then our feelings on the matter. One could almost think our emotions are covered in a parka- they show forth once a year for those 3 brief days of summer.

So how do we show forth our feelings? Those of us raised in MN have learned to read the body language through the parkas.... but that does not help those of us who feel the need to express.

I have found that even most of the time that I can not adequately express my self through prayer, but to praise or cry out in agony of soul I needed an outlet. So I had to learn to dance. I had to learn to sing.

And so, as my family gathers at the bedside of my Aunt Katie (and I am stuck at home, with hyperactive, bored and autistic children) I will dance for her. My dance will be one of joy of her part in my life, it will be one of sadness for the family as we will all greatly miss her, it will be one of hope and praise in the beauty of the atonement and resurrection and the promise of eternal families. It will go on until my resources are exhausted and my heart pains are sung out, until the sorrow is swallowed up and replaced with joy.

For Aunt Katie I wish I could share it and have those witness it feel it too.

Saturday, August 15, 2009

Ever worked for months or years trying to teach your child something and then you leave for a dinner party and come back 3 hours later and they are doing it all on their own?

Or that you give up on them ever learning it and then one day you glance out your window and see both of them (not just the one you were trying to teach) riding bikes down the driveway together?

I have seen enough examples like this over the last 10 years to figure out that we really are powerless to teach our children very much at all. When it is their time they will learn what they are ready to learn. (and not a knit wit before or after). it seems like the best we can do for them to learn it is be prepared to back away, let them do it and then applaud.

Yeah- it helps them to have to tools on hands and the examples of how to do it in front of their face... but really we can't teach to do it. They magically pick it up and one day go flying with out us.

Friday, August 14, 2009

It was summer’s last hurrah- and this year it’s only hurrah. 93 and sweltering. Sweat beaded up and rolled down her knees and she sat at the computer typing. The dog nudged her leg. “Let me finish this paragraph and then I’ll take you out.” She muttered.

5 minutes later and after a little debate about the proper use of antecedents and pronouns she finally set her computer down and stood up. She stretched upwards and cracked her back. The sun had set and there was a promise of a breeze passing through the screen door. Her dog followed her as slipped outside. She felt the grass through her sandals and decided to slip them off. Yes, that felt good, bare feet on soft grass. Shadow was right behind her, his big brown eyes happy now and the mouth drawn up in a doggy grin. It was setting up to be a beautiful night. The sky was clear, but until her eyes adjusted she was mostly blind on the way down to the lake.

Nearing the beach she heard a rustle in the bushes. Shadow stopped and growled. “What do you see?” she asked him. “Some king of critter?” Then her eyes adjusted enough and she was able to see a white stripe in the darkness.


Shadow barked as the skunk ran off. The stench hung heavy in the hot moist air.
“Come Shadow, into the lake!” Shadow bounded into the water. She paused to strip herself of clothes. She held them close to sniff them but couldn’t tell if it was her clothes or the air that smelled. So she tossed them aside and dove into the water.

Wednesday, August 12, 2009

Saturday, August 08, 2009

goop and poop

Only those of us mothers who are specially chosen to cloth diaper and hand rinse them have the opportunities to find out exactly what it is their precious baby girl ate all week.

Most weeks I find things like Styrofoam (do you know that poop with a high amount of Styrofoam in it floats really well?) legos, balloon parts (gasp!)

But this week I actually had a new experience, besides the beans, corn, paper, Styrofoam, legos and the obligatory beads, I actually had a googly eye staring up at me out of the goo.

Maybe Grandma is right when she says that Shannon is a "good eater." At least she is also a good pooper.