For those who check this blog regularly . . . .
The Peanut Gallery will be on a bit of a vacation over the course of the next week. Sporadic posts are likely! Our household is very busy these days, with the visit of Grandma G. Peanut, the closing on our house, and some unforeseen excitement in the form of car trouble.
Please bear with me . . . I am hoping to get back to posting in a more consistent fashion very soon!
Thursday, July 27, 2006
Sunday, July 23, 2006
Blast from the Past
As Master continues to pick up new skills every day, we have been thinking back on what our little Miss was like at his age.
Here are some pictures of *little* Miss:
We've also been watching some videos taken of Miss at around 13 months, and there are some amazing similarities to her brother. There are also some distinct differences. All in all, it is always incredible to see how much they change in such a short period of time.
It makes me hope that we can savor each stage with these little ones.
Here are some pictures of *little* Miss:
We've also been watching some videos taken of Miss at around 13 months, and there are some amazing similarities to her brother. There are also some distinct differences. All in all, it is always incredible to see how much they change in such a short period of time.
It makes me hope that we can savor each stage with these little ones.
Friday, July 21, 2006
Gotta Love Those Scientists . . .
Master has a fever today, and is a sad little man. I have been holding him for most of the day, and I anticipate very little sleep for mommy tonight.
When the littles are sick, I am sometimes surprised by the maternal instinct that kicks in and allows me to care for them. I don't really mind the waking up and work involved, because they so desperately depend on me for nourishment and comfort.
Apparently, the maternal instinct is now verified by scientific research! Thanks to Cousin W, who sent this to me yesterday . . . .
From Fox News:
Scientists find that moms consistently rank the stink of their baby's "number two" as No. 1.
In a new study, 13 mothers were asked to sniff soiled diapers belonging to both their own child and others from an unrelated baby. The women consistently ranked the smell of their own child's feces as less revolting than that of other babies. ...One possible explanation is that the mothers were simply more accustomed to their baby's stink and therefore found it less repulsive.
A more intriguing possibility, the researchers say, is that the mothers' reactions are an evolutionary adaptation allowing them to overcome their natural disgust so that they can properly care for their babies.
So there you have it.
Here's hoping that Master looks more like this tomorrow:
When the littles are sick, I am sometimes surprised by the maternal instinct that kicks in and allows me to care for them. I don't really mind the waking up and work involved, because they so desperately depend on me for nourishment and comfort.
Apparently, the maternal instinct is now verified by scientific research! Thanks to Cousin W, who sent this to me yesterday . . . .
From Fox News:
Scientists find that moms consistently rank the stink of their baby's "number two" as No. 1.
In a new study, 13 mothers were asked to sniff soiled diapers belonging to both their own child and others from an unrelated baby. The women consistently ranked the smell of their own child's feces as less revolting than that of other babies. ...One possible explanation is that the mothers were simply more accustomed to their baby's stink and therefore found it less repulsive.
A more intriguing possibility, the researchers say, is that the mothers' reactions are an evolutionary adaptation allowing them to overcome their natural disgust so that they can properly care for their babies.
So there you have it.
Here's hoping that Master looks more like this tomorrow:
Wednesday, July 19, 2006
Unexpected Blessings
My thoughts earlier this evening:
"Oops. We need stamps. Hmmm. I could go to Byerly's for stamps. And I could just pick something up for dinner . . . . "
Mr. is working tonight, and so it was just going to be the little Peanuts and I dining together. On nights when Mr. is working, I find it difficult to go through the effort of juggling the kids while making a big meal, when the fruit of my labor is usually rejected or picked over by one child, and spat upon the floor by the other.
And so, when I discovered that I needed stamps, I shuffled the kids out the door and took the short drive to Byerly's. Upon our arrival there, I perused the ready-cooked-meal section, which is vast and inviting. I finally decided on a rotisserie chicken meal, with green beans and mashed potatoes -- big enough for the three of us to share. I felt a slight pang of guilt as I headed for the check-out line, as I knew there was plenty of food at home, and we are trying to stick to a tight budget in anticipation of our new mortgage payments. I stifled these feelings with relative ease, however, as I anticipated a care-free dinner with the littles.
The checker scanned my little plastic container, and told me that the total cost was $2.65. I told her that this was incorrect -- the sign by the counter had read $7.50. She called a manager over, they both congratulated me for my honesty, and collected only the $2.65. I was so excited. Yes, I know that it is only a difference of $5ish. But I skipped out of Byerly's feeling particularly blessed and thrilled to have a ready-made, healthy dinner for such a small sum.
Later this evening, another unexpected blessing came in the form of a new development for Master. As we stood in the kids room, bidding Miss goodnight, he began to blow kisses to her . . . . over and over again . . . complete with sound effects ("mmmmm . . . . waaaaah").
It was adorable. It was even more fun because of Miss' excited reaction. She laughed and laughed, saying "He's blowing kisses!! He's blowing kisses!!"
So. Sweet. Another little thing that brought a lot of excitement to our home today.
"Oops. We need stamps. Hmmm. I could go to Byerly's for stamps. And I could just pick something up for dinner . . . . "
Mr. is working tonight, and so it was just going to be the little Peanuts and I dining together. On nights when Mr. is working, I find it difficult to go through the effort of juggling the kids while making a big meal, when the fruit of my labor is usually rejected or picked over by one child, and spat upon the floor by the other.
And so, when I discovered that I needed stamps, I shuffled the kids out the door and took the short drive to Byerly's. Upon our arrival there, I perused the ready-cooked-meal section, which is vast and inviting. I finally decided on a rotisserie chicken meal, with green beans and mashed potatoes -- big enough for the three of us to share. I felt a slight pang of guilt as I headed for the check-out line, as I knew there was plenty of food at home, and we are trying to stick to a tight budget in anticipation of our new mortgage payments. I stifled these feelings with relative ease, however, as I anticipated a care-free dinner with the littles.
The checker scanned my little plastic container, and told me that the total cost was $2.65. I told her that this was incorrect -- the sign by the counter had read $7.50. She called a manager over, they both congratulated me for my honesty, and collected only the $2.65. I was so excited. Yes, I know that it is only a difference of $5ish. But I skipped out of Byerly's feeling particularly blessed and thrilled to have a ready-made, healthy dinner for such a small sum.
Later this evening, another unexpected blessing came in the form of a new development for Master. As we stood in the kids room, bidding Miss goodnight, he began to blow kisses to her . . . . over and over again . . . complete with sound effects ("mmmmm . . . . waaaaah").
It was adorable. It was even more fun because of Miss' excited reaction. She laughed and laughed, saying "He's blowing kisses!! He's blowing kisses!!"
So. Sweet. Another little thing that brought a lot of excitement to our home today.
Unexpected Blessings
My thoughts earlier this evening:
"Oops. We need stamps. Hmmm. I could go to Byerly's for stamps. And I could just pick something up for dinner . . . . "
Mr. is working tonight, and so it was just going to be the little Peanuts and I dining together. On nights when Mr. is working, I find it difficult to go through the effort of juggling the kids while making a big meal, when the fruit of my labor is usually rejected or picked over by one child, and spat upon the floor by the other.
And so, when I discovered that I needed stamps, I shuffled the kids out the door and took the short drive to Byerly's. Upon our arrival there, I perused the ready-cooked-meal section, which is vast and inviting. I finally decided on a rotisserie chicken meal, with green beans and mashed potatoes -- big enough for the three of us to share. I felt a slight pang of guilt as I headed for the check-out line, as I knew there was plenty of food at home, and we are trying to stick to a tight budget in anticipation of our new mortgage payments. I stifled these feelings with relative ease, however, as I anticipated a care-free dinner with the littles.
The checker scanned my little plastic container, and told me that the total cost was $2.65. I told her that this was incorrect -- the sign by the counter had read $7.50. She called a manager over, they both congratulated me for my honesty, and collected only the $2.65. I was so excited. Yes, I know that it is only a difference of $5ish. But I skipped out of Byerly's feeling particularly blessed and thrilled to have a ready-made, healthy dinner for such a small sum.
Later this evening, another unexpected blessing came in the form of a new development for Master. As we stood in the kids room, bidding Miss goodnight, he began to blow kisses to her . . . . over and over again . . . complete with sound effects ("mmmmm . . . . waaaaah").
It was adorable. It was even more fun because of Miss' excited reaction. She laughed and laughed, saying "He's blowing kisses!! He's blowing kisses!!"
So. Sweet. Another little thing that brought a lot of excitement to our home today.
"Oops. We need stamps. Hmmm. I could go to Byerly's for stamps. And I could just pick something up for dinner . . . . "
Mr. is working tonight, and so it was just going to be the little Peanuts and I dining together. On nights when Mr. is working, I find it difficult to go through the effort of juggling the kids while making a big meal, when the fruit of my labor is usually rejected or picked over by one child, and spat upon the floor by the other.
And so, when I discovered that I needed stamps, I shuffled the kids out the door and took the short drive to Byerly's. Upon our arrival there, I perused the ready-cooked-meal section, which is vast and inviting. I finally decided on a rotisserie chicken meal, with green beans and mashed potatoes -- big enough for the three of us to share. I felt a slight pang of guilt as I headed for the check-out line, as I knew there was plenty of food at home, and we are trying to stick to a tight budget in anticipation of our new mortgage payments. I stifled these feelings with relative ease, however, as I anticipated a care-free dinner with the littles.
The checker scanned my little plastic container, and told me that the total cost was $2.65. I told her that this was incorrect -- the sign by the counter had read $7.50. She called a manager over, they both congratulated me for my honesty, and collected only the $2.65. I was so excited. Yes, I know that it is only a difference of $5ish. But I skipped out of Byerly's feeling particularly blessed and thrilled to have a ready-made, healthy dinner for such a small sum.
Later this evening, another unexpected blessing came in the form of a new development for Master. As we stood in the kids room, bidding Miss goodnight, he began to blow kisses to her . . . . over and over again . . . complete with sound effects ("mmmmm . . . . waaaaah").
It was adorable. It was even more fun because of Miss' excited reaction. She laughed and laughed, saying "He's blowing kisses!! He's blowing kisses!!"
So. Sweet. Another little thing that brought a lot of excitement to our home today.
Tuesday, July 18, 2006
Things We Are Thankful For Today
- The weather. It has cooled a bit, and we are expecting pleasant (mid-80's) summer days for the next week. We have only experienced a couple of uncomfortable spells this summer, and so the Peanuts are happy. This family *does not* like heat. Even little Miss will exclaim, "Mommy! It's tooooo sunny! I need some shade."
- Eggs. Master will always eat them, when all else fails.
- Watermelon. See #2.
- Mr.'s job. He was just reimbursed for all time off taken for our move. So, he will be able to take time off in October to watch the littles so I can go to a dear friend's wedding. It is a busy, crazy job, but it does have it's benefits.
- Closing on our *house* NEXT WEEK!
- Eiko. Dear friend mentioned in #4, who sent out this note with her wedding invitations: "Eiko and John are registered at * and * for a few important things they could certainly use. But they're also registered with God on High, wanting a child and a home, so anything you can fit into a card would be more personal and appreciated than you know." Classic. Funny. True. Appropriate. All at the same time. Kind of like Eiko.
- Dishwashers.
- The fun of looking through antique stores, trying to find the perfect old furniture for our new house.
- Miss becoming fascinated with letters and their sounds. It is so fun to see her mind start to grasp something new.
- Master imitating the "Mooooo" sound I make when he plays with his toy cow. His little pursed lips . . . it can't get any cuter.
"mooooooooooooo"Monday, July 17, 2006
Lake Minnetonka Stroll
One of our favorite Minnesota discoveries is the beautiful little town of Excelsior, which is situated on Lake Minnetonka and offers a quaint little business area and a beautiful park right on the lake shore. We visited this town tonight, strolling past houses where people called out to say hello from their screened-in porches. We shared ice cream from Licks Unlimited, and we enjoyed the playground while we watched boats and swimmers out in the lake.
It was an ideal evening, with temperatures in the 70's and a gentle breeze.
It was a good ending to a good weekend with Daddy.
Saturday, July 15, 2006
This Is a House, A Napping House, Where Everyone is Sleeping
As I write this entry, all of my fellow Peanuts are settled into a deep sleep. By the time 8:00 arrived, Miss was actually overheard saying, "I just need to go to bed."
Master quickly followed.
And Mr. (who reported for work at 4AM) is now unconscious on the couch.
We are all a little bit sluggish around here. The children have *not* been sleeping well since we returned from our trip to California. We have been home for almost two weeks, but each night one or the other (or both) of my little Peanuts has had some difficulty sleeping through the night. Almost every night, at approximately 3 AM, I receive a visit from Miss, who usually just asks to get in bed with us, and then totters back toward her bedroom when I say "uh . . . no."
I think that she is beginning to enjoy this ritual. When I deposit her back into her own bed, she has taken to asking, "Mommy, is my bed juuuust right?"
This is her favorite line from "Goldilocks and the Three Bears."
Cute, eh?
Not at 3 AM.
Master, on the other hand, appears to be changing his eating habits and is suddenly more interested in nursing than he is in eating solid foods. Our once ravenous-for-anything little guy is now tossing most anything we offer him off of the highchair tray whilst screaming and flailing his little arms. As a consequence, he is usually very hungry by about 5 AM, at which time he vociferously informs me of his need for nourishment.
And so, between my night visits from Miss and hungry little Master, I am getting very little sleep. I am also getting a bit *cranky*. I realized again today how much my attitude affects the attitudes of the children and the general tone of the household. It is hard to face that responsibility when I am tired and somewhat overwhelmed. But, it is so important to recognize it, and to try to be an example to the kiddos of maintaining perspective, even when things aren't going as well as I would like. Rather than becoming just as whiny as my sleep-deprived 3 year old, I need to make the best of the situation and remember what a privilege it truly is to mother and care for these children.
Here's hoping for a good night sleep, and the grace to keep going even if that doesn't happen.
Master quickly followed.
And Mr. (who reported for work at 4AM) is now unconscious on the couch.
We are all a little bit sluggish around here. The children have *not* been sleeping well since we returned from our trip to California. We have been home for almost two weeks, but each night one or the other (or both) of my little Peanuts has had some difficulty sleeping through the night. Almost every night, at approximately 3 AM, I receive a visit from Miss, who usually just asks to get in bed with us, and then totters back toward her bedroom when I say "uh . . . no."
I think that she is beginning to enjoy this ritual. When I deposit her back into her own bed, she has taken to asking, "Mommy, is my bed juuuust right?"
This is her favorite line from "Goldilocks and the Three Bears."
Cute, eh?
Not at 3 AM.
Master, on the other hand, appears to be changing his eating habits and is suddenly more interested in nursing than he is in eating solid foods. Our once ravenous-for-anything little guy is now tossing most anything we offer him off of the highchair tray whilst screaming and flailing his little arms. As a consequence, he is usually very hungry by about 5 AM, at which time he vociferously informs me of his need for nourishment.
And so, between my night visits from Miss and hungry little Master, I am getting very little sleep. I am also getting a bit *cranky*. I realized again today how much my attitude affects the attitudes of the children and the general tone of the household. It is hard to face that responsibility when I am tired and somewhat overwhelmed. But, it is so important to recognize it, and to try to be an example to the kiddos of maintaining perspective, even when things aren't going as well as I would like. Rather than becoming just as whiny as my sleep-deprived 3 year old, I need to make the best of the situation and remember what a privilege it truly is to mother and care for these children.
Here's hoping for a good night sleep, and the grace to keep going even if that doesn't happen.
Friday, July 14, 2006
Getting Back to Normal
Normal entries will resume tomorrow . . . last night the little Peanuts and I drove to the airport in a crazy thunderstorm to retrieve Mr. Peanut, only to have him leave at 4:00 this morning for work. Upon his return this afternoon, we went to have dinner at the home of some new friends we've made through one of the churches we've visited. We had a lovely time, but did not arrive back at home until 9:30ish - very much past the littles' bedtime.
So, we are looking forward to a quiet weekend at home, and more opportunities for writing.
Until then . . .
So, we are looking forward to a quiet weekend at home, and more opportunities for writing.
Until then . . .
Wednesday, July 12, 2006
Oh Where . . . Where is Daddy?
Daddy is missed. The littles and I failed to sleep very well last night, and then we had a long trek to the doctor's office for Master's one year check up this morning. All is well with the little guy, but he received three unwelcome shots, and is a tad on the fussy side as a result.
The cumulative affect of all this is that we are all. very. tired.
Thus, the blog is taking a little vacation tonight. I shall now eat popcorn, read my (very good) book, and go to bed.
He'll be back tomorrow. He'll be back tomorrow. He'll be back tomorrow.
Can you tell that I'm not cut out for having a husband-who-travels-a-lot-for-his-job? Thank goodness he doesn't. Two days and I'm a whining pile of mush. Guess that means I like the guy. And that he makes all of our lives a lot nicer.
The cumulative affect of all this is that we are all. very. tired.
Thus, the blog is taking a little vacation tonight. I shall now eat popcorn, read my (very good) book, and go to bed.
He'll be back tomorrow. He'll be back tomorrow. He'll be back tomorrow.
Can you tell that I'm not cut out for having a husband-who-travels-a-lot-for-his-job? Thank goodness he doesn't. Two days and I'm a whining pile of mush. Guess that means I like the guy. And that he makes all of our lives a lot nicer.
Monday, July 10, 2006
Fun in St. Paul
Today we ventured into St. Paul for an early birthday celebration for Mr., who will be departing for a two day business trip tomorrow. We've mentioned here before that Charles Schultz was born and raised in St. Paul, and our wanderings in the downtown area brought us to a beautiful city square, filled with statues of the Peanuts gang. Miss was delighted. We later went out to dinner, and celebrated Mr.'s 31st by trying to keep the children from taking apart the Green Mill restaurant brick by brick. Nothing like a romantic birthday dinner . . . as Miss repeatedly tries to look over the booth in order to strike up a conversation with the innocent patrons behind us, and Master practices his raspberry noises. Loudly. Perhaps not romantic, but funny. And memorable.
I will keep this short, because there are only a couple of hours left with Mr. before we must go to sleep, and then he leaves for two days. I will be alone with the littles while he is in Chicago attending Trader Joe's University. Bah. I shall be brave. Maybe. I'll keep you posted on how it goes.
Here are some photos of our fun day:
Miss exults with Herb Brooks, coach of the 1980 US Hockey Team
Reading with Marcy
Listening to Lucy whisper in her ear
Getting between Sally and Linus
Master with Charlie Brown and SnoopySunday, July 09, 2006
On The Move
It has become increasingly clear that our little Master is no longer a baby, and that he is getting ready to enter the wonderful world of toddlerhood. In case we weren't fully aware of this transformation, it was emphasized to us via our recent adventures in flying. Rather than snuggling up and sleeping on me as he did just a few months ago, he squirmed, wriggled, flipped and flopped his way through the flights.
I realized the changes in Master again today, as I attempted to take some pictures of him. This is what I came up with:
Yup. I can no longer expect him to sit still and smile sweetly when mama wants a picture. His increased mobility has, however, allowed him to enjoy playing with his big sister much more. She is more than happy to roll around on the floor with him, and they take great joy in daily scrambles through a little tunnel they have discovered between our couch and the wall. All of the laughing we hear coming from behind that couch almost makes up for the fact that our little guy will never be a baby again.
There are so many things we have enjoyed about his babyhood, and there are so many things we have to look forward to.
I realized the changes in Master again today, as I attempted to take some pictures of him. This is what I came up with:
Yup. I can no longer expect him to sit still and smile sweetly when mama wants a picture. His increased mobility has, however, allowed him to enjoy playing with his big sister much more. She is more than happy to roll around on the floor with him, and they take great joy in daily scrambles through a little tunnel they have discovered between our couch and the wall. All of the laughing we hear coming from behind that couch almost makes up for the fact that our little guy will never be a baby again.
There are so many things we have enjoyed about his babyhood, and there are so many things we have to look forward to.
Friday, July 07, 2006
Reflecting
The Peanut family is slowly getting back to normal life. The mountain of laundry looms, but the suitcases are stowed, the children are sleeping according to Minnesota time, and we are settling back into our daily routine.
As things normalize, we are looking back on our recent journey with joy. It was so amazing to see little Master reach the milestone of his first birthday, and then to take his first steps later in the week. Miss has excitedly told everyone we meet (and I mean *everyone* - including the Target check-out gal) that her "brudder" is now "ONE YEAR OLD!"
It was also surreal and wonderful to see my own brother get married. I couldn't help but feel nostalgic as it was all taking place. I remembered all those hours, days, weeks, years spent together. Playing. Laughing. Arguing! Wondering what we could get away with. Walking to the Norwalk Square for soda or to Wong's market for snow cones.
"Siblings are the people we practice on, the people who teach us about fairness and cooperation and kindness and caring -- quite often the hard way." -Pamela Dugdale
I spotted this quote recently and find it to be so true. I know that my brother and I "practiced" on each other quite a bit, and we often did learn these virtues the hard way. But I am thankful that I had him to practice on, and I am thankful that we have the memories and the lessons learned from those early experiences together. I am glad, too, that he is now married to a wonderful woman who will help him to continue to grow and learn, just as Mr. Peanut does for me.
Miss just wishes that we could live through her glory as a flower girl all over again. As we walked through Target today, she said - with a sigh - "I'll walk down this aisle. Just like I did at the wedding."
As things normalize, we are looking back on our recent journey with joy. It was so amazing to see little Master reach the milestone of his first birthday, and then to take his first steps later in the week. Miss has excitedly told everyone we meet (and I mean *everyone* - including the Target check-out gal) that her "brudder" is now "ONE YEAR OLD!"
It was also surreal and wonderful to see my own brother get married. I couldn't help but feel nostalgic as it was all taking place. I remembered all those hours, days, weeks, years spent together. Playing. Laughing. Arguing! Wondering what we could get away with. Walking to the Norwalk Square for soda or to Wong's market for snow cones.
"Siblings are the people we practice on, the people who teach us about fairness and cooperation and kindness and caring -- quite often the hard way." -Pamela Dugdale
I spotted this quote recently and find it to be so true. I know that my brother and I "practiced" on each other quite a bit, and we often did learn these virtues the hard way. But I am thankful that I had him to practice on, and I am thankful that we have the memories and the lessons learned from those early experiences together. I am glad, too, that he is now married to a wonderful woman who will help him to continue to grow and learn, just as Mr. Peanut does for me.
Miss just wishes that we could live through her glory as a flower girl all over again. As we walked through Target today, she said - with a sigh - "I'll walk down this aisle. Just like I did at the wedding."
Wednesday, July 05, 2006
We're Home
We are back from a *very* eventful time in Southern Cal.
Miss and the Ringbearer toast a job well done.
Master checks the seating for the ceremony.
- Master is now 1.
- Uncle M. Peanut is now married.
- Miss had quite the night of her life whilst performing her flower girl duties.
- Master took his first steps!
- All of the Peanuts greatly enjoyed visits with the grandparents, many family members, and dear friends the Oldenburgs.
Miss and the Ringbearer toast a job well done.
Master checks the seating for the ceremony.Thursday, June 22, 2006
Big Day for Little Guy
I've already found, in my few years as a parent, that things can change remarkably quickly with little ones. Just when it seems that we've reached equilibrium and we feel that we can predict the normal patterns of the littles, one of them grows or changes in some way, and *poof* everything in our daily lives is different.
Today, as I was reading with the little Peanuts in their bedroom, I noticed that Master was intently staring at Miss's bed. He was cruising around it, surveying it, and - suddenly - he was on top of it. He sat there, looking quite pleased with himself, and then proceeded to dive off of it, face first. In that split second, I could envision the new primary activity of my life over the course of the next six months or so. Yes, dear reader, we have entered the "I can climb up on it, but I have no idea how to get off of it" stage. Master, as I would have expected, continued to climb upon and dive off of Miss's bed for the remainder of our time in the bedroom.
I remember well this fantastic stage with Miss. I recall that I developed lightening-quick reflexes during this time, as I made it from one end of the room to the other in a split second to catch her as she awkwardly dismounted from the couch. Or chair. Or toy chest. Or changing table. I am hoping that these finely tuned skills will serve me well as we enter this stage with Master.
Later in the day, I discovered two new teeth in the little guy's mouth, with a couple more on the verge of breaking through. And, to top it all off, the excitement of climbing onto the bed has obviously inspired Master to attempt new things in other areas. Tonight, he stood on his own for the first time. The obvious excitement all over his face was so adorable.
I'll keep those little dimples in mind when I become frustrated with all of the spills and thrills that the next months will bring.
Wednesday, June 21, 2006
Procrastination
In a few short days we will be flying to California to see the family and participate in Uncle M's wedding. Very exciting. Miss can't wait to get back on a plane, and she really likes the idea of being a flower girl. I can only hope that feeling of enthusiasm lasts, and that she does not go on flower girl strike right about the time we ask her to walk down the aisle. I mentioned that possibility to Grandma Peanut a few days ago, and was greeted with this response:
"Well, we just won't think about that possibility."
I am trying to block the thought from my mind, but have yet to succeed.
I am also trying to motivate myself for one of my least favorite tasks . . . packing. I *loathe* packing. It ranks right in between stubbing my toe and ironing on my list of undesirable ways to spend my time. It must be done, however, and so I am determined to begin the process tonight. Right after I post cute pictures of the kids. Yeah . . . that'll take a few minutes, and then Mr. will call me on his way home from work, and then he'll be home, and then (of course) I'll have to spend some time talking with him about his day, and then we'll have to go to bed . . . . . . . . .
Here is Miss helping me "make dinner." Yes, removing the healthy frozen french fries from a bag does count as cooking around these here parts. Below is Master. Looking cute. Now off to that packing . . . oh, wait! Is that the phone ringing?
"Well, we just won't think about that possibility."
I am trying to block the thought from my mind, but have yet to succeed.
I am also trying to motivate myself for one of my least favorite tasks . . . packing. I *loathe* packing. It ranks right in between stubbing my toe and ironing on my list of undesirable ways to spend my time. It must be done, however, and so I am determined to begin the process tonight. Right after I post cute pictures of the kids. Yeah . . . that'll take a few minutes, and then Mr. will call me on his way home from work, and then he'll be home, and then (of course) I'll have to spend some time talking with him about his day, and then we'll have to go to bed . . . . . . . . .
Here is Miss helping me "make dinner." Yes, removing the healthy frozen french fries from a bag does count as cooking around these here parts. Below is Master. Looking cute. Now off to that packing . . . oh, wait! Is that the phone ringing?
Tuesday, June 20, 2006
Get To Work?
We tend to avoid controversial topics here at The Peanut Gallery, but we had the misfortune of running across this book excerpt online, and we feel the need to make a brief comment.
To sum up the gist of the argument, Ms. Hirshman has authored a book in which she argues that women ought to return to the work force. She bemoans the fact that women *still* seem to be "homeward bound," in spite of all the best efforts of feminists like Betty Friedan and others. She is sick of all of the relativistic talk that casts the decision to stay at home or work as "choices" of equal merit , and says that working is just. plain. better.
Working provides a better, more fulfilling life, and it allows women to contribute to society in a meaningful way, according to Ms. Hirshman. In the linked excerpt, she tells the story of one woman who decided to stay home with her infant son, and decries the fact that this was
"condemning her to spend her talents on tasks that people with no degree at all can do."
I will refrain from stepping onto my soapbox and turning this into a long entry. Suffice it to say that I vehemently disagree with the above quote. No, it does not take a degree to care for one's children. But it is not something that any "people" can do. *No one* can raise my children the way I can, because *no one* (apart from my husband) can care for them as much as I do. And caring for them is the most exciting, interesting, and freeing work of which I have ever been a part. Ms. Hirshman would, no doubt, argue that this is a platitude that I have swallowed due to my cultural upbringing. All I can offer in response is my experience. I have lived both lives -- I have earned a degree, gone to graduate school, worked for a major corporation . . . and I have been a mother.
Being a mother wins. Hands down.
Hirshman claims that:
The family with its repetitious, socially invisible, physical tasks is a necessary part of life and has obvious emotional and immediate rewards, but it allows fewer opportunities for full human flourishing than public spheres like the market or the government.
Ironically, I have found just the opposite to be true. A career can have it's "immediate rewards", but the investment of myself into my children has been where I have found true "human flourishing." I have flourished, and so have they.
Very little of Hirshman's argument in this excerpt adequately deals with the fate of children who are separated at an unnaturally early age from their parents, so that women can "get to work."
One of my many, oh-so-fulfilling jobs of the past was that of substitute teacher at various elementary schools. I remember well some of the young children who would break into sobs at the end of the day because they didn't want to go to after-school daycare. They had already been at school since 7 AM. They *missed* their parents. They wanted to be home. With mom. Wouldn't any child in their shoes want the same thing? Are we to say to this child, "Sorry, Johnny, but Mommy must fulfill her duty to society at large and therefore cannot focus her attention solely on you and your siblings. Time to toughen up! Time to get with the program and enjoy your institutionalized life!"
How about allowing for the fact that I can contribute to society in the best possible way by raising my children and, with them, involving myself in the larger community in a variety of profitable ways?
OK, I am now firmly situated atop the soapbox I vowed not to ascend. I will decend by simply saying that we are feeling nostalgic this week about the approaching birthday of Master. A year gone by already. A wasted year, in which I should have been using my talents elsewhere? I think not.
Not a wasted year from his perspective. And, perhaps even more so, not a wasted year from mine.
To sum up the gist of the argument, Ms. Hirshman has authored a book in which she argues that women ought to return to the work force. She bemoans the fact that women *still* seem to be "homeward bound," in spite of all the best efforts of feminists like Betty Friedan and others. She is sick of all of the relativistic talk that casts the decision to stay at home or work as "choices" of equal merit , and says that working is just. plain. better.
Working provides a better, more fulfilling life, and it allows women to contribute to society in a meaningful way, according to Ms. Hirshman. In the linked excerpt, she tells the story of one woman who decided to stay home with her infant son, and decries the fact that this was
"condemning her to spend her talents on tasks that people with no degree at all can do."
I will refrain from stepping onto my soapbox and turning this into a long entry. Suffice it to say that I vehemently disagree with the above quote. No, it does not take a degree to care for one's children. But it is not something that any "people" can do. *No one* can raise my children the way I can, because *no one* (apart from my husband) can care for them as much as I do. And caring for them is the most exciting, interesting, and freeing work of which I have ever been a part. Ms. Hirshman would, no doubt, argue that this is a platitude that I have swallowed due to my cultural upbringing. All I can offer in response is my experience. I have lived both lives -- I have earned a degree, gone to graduate school, worked for a major corporation . . . and I have been a mother.
Being a mother wins. Hands down.
Hirshman claims that:
The family with its repetitious, socially invisible, physical tasks is a necessary part of life and has obvious emotional and immediate rewards, but it allows fewer opportunities for full human flourishing than public spheres like the market or the government.
Ironically, I have found just the opposite to be true. A career can have it's "immediate rewards", but the investment of myself into my children has been where I have found true "human flourishing." I have flourished, and so have they.
Very little of Hirshman's argument in this excerpt adequately deals with the fate of children who are separated at an unnaturally early age from their parents, so that women can "get to work."
One of my many, oh-so-fulfilling jobs of the past was that of substitute teacher at various elementary schools. I remember well some of the young children who would break into sobs at the end of the day because they didn't want to go to after-school daycare. They had already been at school since 7 AM. They *missed* their parents. They wanted to be home. With mom. Wouldn't any child in their shoes want the same thing? Are we to say to this child, "Sorry, Johnny, but Mommy must fulfill her duty to society at large and therefore cannot focus her attention solely on you and your siblings. Time to toughen up! Time to get with the program and enjoy your institutionalized life!"
How about allowing for the fact that I can contribute to society in the best possible way by raising my children and, with them, involving myself in the larger community in a variety of profitable ways?
OK, I am now firmly situated atop the soapbox I vowed not to ascend. I will decend by simply saying that we are feeling nostalgic this week about the approaching birthday of Master. A year gone by already. A wasted year, in which I should have been using my talents elsewhere? I think not.
Not a wasted year from his perspective. And, perhaps even more so, not a wasted year from mine.
Monday, June 19, 2006
Como Park Zoo
In honor of Mr.'s day off, we made a spontaneous trip to the Como Park Zoo today. Como Lake with it's adjacent park, zoo, and conservatory, is located in Saint Paul. We've admired the neighborhood, park, and lake since we arrived in the Twin Cities, but hadn't had the opportunity to visit the zoo until today. We were quite impressed with the variety of animals and the large, beautiful habitats. Miss had a wonderful time seeing the animals, and imitating them. This is our first trip to a zoo in over a year, and she has definitely grown in her enthusiasm for and fascination with the animals. She was also slightly frightened by some of them, because the great exhibits allowed for such close-up viewing. We were just one sheet of plexiglas away from a *GIANT* gorilla, and a *HUGE* male lion. Miss did not feel that the plexiglas was sufficient protection, and decided to keep her distance.
One of the highlights of our visit was a ride on a beautiful, restored carousel that was originally built for the Minnesota State Fair in 1919. It had beautiful, hand-carved wooden horses, and a big Wurlitzer organ on board.
Best of all, the entire day was free! The zoo is always free, and the carousel was having a "free day." The Peanut household loves anything free, and we are very excited that Como Park will be approximately 15 minutes from our new house. We envision many trips to visit the monkeys, giraffes, seals and polar bears in our future.
Miss expresses her excitement over seeing the bison.
Master and Mr. wait patiently for their turn on the carousel.
Miss and Mommy bask in the glow of the carousel ride.
One of the highlights of our visit was a ride on a beautiful, restored carousel that was originally built for the Minnesota State Fair in 1919. It had beautiful, hand-carved wooden horses, and a big Wurlitzer organ on board.
Best of all, the entire day was free! The zoo is always free, and the carousel was having a "free day." The Peanut household loves anything free, and we are very excited that Como Park will be approximately 15 minutes from our new house. We envision many trips to visit the monkeys, giraffes, seals and polar bears in our future.
Miss expresses her excitement over seeing the bison.
Master and Mr. wait patiently for their turn on the carousel.
Miss and Mommy bask in the glow of the carousel ride.Sunday, June 18, 2006
Happy Father's Day, Pt. 2
We hope your Father's Day was a good one. Ours involved church, Indian food, a new record player, the U.S. Open, and a stroll by Lake Minnetonka -- complete with ice cream cones.
Here are some pictures of our happy day:
Here are some pictures of our happy day:
Saturday, June 17, 2006
Happy Father's Day
To The Peanut Gallery's favorite fathers:
and
and
and, of course,
Mr. Peanut and I were both blessed to grow up with fathers who loved us, encouraged us, provided for us, and led us spiritually.
Someday, my children will say the same about their Daddy. Who can ask for more than someone who:
- Will go down the slides on the playground with you,
- Will change your diapers and bathe you,
- Will watch Veggie Tales with you (and laugh harder than you do),
- Will dance around the living room with you to the vocal stylings of Johnny Cash,
- Will read with you every day,
- Will *always* share his Jamba Juice with you,
- And, will work so hard to provide you with all that you need?
I ran across this quote (appropriately enough, from a Minnesota baseball player), and it immediately reminded me of Mr.:
My father used to play with my brother and me in the yard. Mother would come out and say, "You're tearing up the grass." "We're not raising grass," Dad would reply. "We're raising boys." ~Harmon Killebrew
Mr., Papa, and Grandad, thanks for all you bring to all of the Peanuts' lives.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)