Dawn Chorus

I'm not a good enough composer to put this down on staff paper, but here's what each section contributes, starting at a little before 6am.

Child: Mom, can we get up? Mom, can we get up? Mom, can we ge up?

Kitten: MeOW, MeOW, MeOW, MeOW

Lab: hehhehhehhehhehhehhehhehhehhehhehhehheheh

Husband: groooooan. shhhhhhhh. grooooooan.

Garbage Trucks: ruuuuuuuuh, ruuuuuuuuuh

(and my very favorite section...)

Coffee Maker: click. blurpblurpblurpblurpblurp

24 Hours

"Oh, mommy, that's not going to work with me!"

"When we hold hands, the world gets brighter."

"When we get home I'm going to play dress-up. I'm going to dress up as God."

Baptisms, Religion, and Faith (oh, my!)

This is supposed to be an entry about Ainslie's baptism and the swirl of feelings and opinions I had/have, but it's really turning into a doozy.


Here's the Reader's Digest version of some background info: i.e., why Ainslie was baptized at 3 years old:

Craig's family is more High Church and of the Infant Baptism persuasion. My family is of the Old Enough To Make a Confession of Faith state of mind. Before we became parents, I knew it was important to Craig and his family to have children baptized as infants, and after all, it wouldn't hurt them, so I said, Fine, as long as he sets it up (knowing full well it would take, well, three years.) Ok, I'm being a little jokey, but what with the moving and all, it's taken this long. And I'm glad. Ainslie was so excited! She kept asking, "How many days 'til my baptism? I just can't wait to be baptized!" We had many conversations with her about what it means to be God's child, and to have Jesus in your heart, and, as well as a three-year old can, I think she understands.


What I have learned, is that baptism, in the ELCA context, is defined differently than in my Disciples of Christ context, and I'm ok with that. I've seen several ELCA confirmation classes make their confirmations and have been moved by the conviction with which those kids speak and act. Everybody's happy, right?


Ugh.


I've always thought that we have different denominations of the Christian faith because God gave us minds with which to think and question. How can we all come to the exact same conclusions about each passage of scripture? How could we all interpret everything the exact same way? We can't! We're human!


Where it gets dangerous, in my opinion, is when one group asserts that they are right, and the rest of us are going to hell. Literally.



Enter my dear old dad.



My parents are happily married, but they have always gone to separtate churches. Before I was born, my mom was visiting church with my dad and grandparents and the preacher told the congregation, in no uncertain terms, that unless you belong to the Church of Christ--NOT the Universal-Capital-C-CHURCH, but this particular uber-conservative instrumental music-less, non-ministerial-alliance participating denomination, you are hellbound. My mom decided that day that no child of hers would ever be a member of that church.


Anyhoo. Brother, Sister and I were well-churched in the more open-minded Disciples of Christ denomination. I married Craig, we found a good fit for the both of us in Lutheran ELCA. We begat Ainslie. Three years later, her baptism approaches. 2 hours before the service, my dad informs me he isn't attending. Fabulous. This'll go over well.


I have relatives arriving, people all over my house, a small girl who needs to be dressed and groomed and now this.

So, we argue doctrine for awhile. He is absolutely convinced that, let's see, all the Methodists, Baptists, Presbyterians, Lutherans, Catholics, Nazarenes, Disciples, UCC'ers, etc, are Doing It Wrong and will be judged thusly.


Arrogance!


I learned a long time ago not to keep arguing, because this idea is so deeply ingrained, there is no room for logic within this otherwise educated man's head or heart. As more relatives arrived, I told him, " You asked whether I'd be upset. Yes, I am upset. It's a family event. All you have to do is show up and sit there for an hour. I am being polite. I can guarantee Craig won't be, and then this is going to turn into a festering *thing* for the next who-knows-how-long. Please come."


Thankfully, Mom made him come.


The sermon was beautiful. Pastor spoke about Jesus getting lambasted for curing the woman on the Sabbath, and then went on to admonish us to not get so caught up in the Rules--the Rituals, the Doctrines, but to get out there and Live It. Do what is right. Help people. Don't worry about what others think or whether you are following the rules of the congregation. Live righteously without worrying whether you appear to be. He reminded us that the Rules of any church are just man-made. Hope Dad was listening.


Anyway, Ainslie did well. We're very proud of her, on many levels. If any mothers of three-year-olds are wondering, there was no hissing when the water touched her. :-) Had to throw that in--there are days when I wonder.


A couple of pictures

Shaping Up To Be An Interesting Weekend

We have a houseful of family coming this weekend for Ainslie's baptism.

Yesterday, my vacuum exploded.

Today, the dishwasher stopped working.

Single Mother Ballerina

The new pretend game is Ballet Class, where 'grown-up' Ainslie is the Star Ballerina of the class. She takes Baby Carla with her in Baby Carla's car seat. It's an elaborate set-up. First, she has to put on a leotard and tights, then I have to put her hair in a bun. Then, Baby Carla has to get dressed (in the purple dress if her mommy is wearing the purple tutu; in the pink jammies if Mommy is wearing the pink leo) and brought to the 'studio.'

Next, I have to put on Ballerina Music and then watch. But. I. Can. Not. Set. Foot. In. The. Dining Ro--Studio.

She spins, leaps, twirls--she acts out stories (we had a discussion that Ballet tells stories through dancing, so we have all kinds of Ballets--like the one about the good football player and the mean football player), she does Reverance at the end of class.

I asked her how she could have a Baby already, when she is only three. I should have known better.
"Mom! I'm pretending I'm four!"

It's worse than I thought. After Ballet Practice, yesterday, Baby Carla was having a wedding. I had to ask--isn't she a little young?

"Mo-oom! Baby Carla is a very special child."

She would know.
I just worry that she will be devastated when we put furniture in the dining room.

It's a sign...

Free shipping on any order, any size from Land's End, through August 21.

What is Wrong With Me?

I ordered a swimsuit from Land's End. Of course it doesn't fit. The bottoms are too big and the top is too small. Story of my life, but I digress. I'm not really into Land's End except for swim (because it lasts forever), winter shoes, and Big Warm Coats. The clothes just aren't my thing, for the most part.

But have you seen the new winter shoes in the catalogue? SO cute. I want the driving mocs in orange and the chalet shoes in every color.

Our finances are tidied up, we don't NEED any clothes, shoes, etc, and yet my heart beats faster and I itch toward the keyboard every time I think of these shoes. I want to buy them for other people as gifts as well. I want to order them RIGHT NOW.

Is there a program for me?

Just Doing My Job

The PALP/Harry Potter weekend was fabulous, in every sense of the word--the friends, the book, the gossiping, the goofing around.

It got even better last week, when Craig told me this story:

Ainslie doesn't usually freak out when I have to go out of town for work, etc., but she was overtired and started crying that she wanted her Mommy.

Craig: Mommy is with her friends, she'll be back in 2 days.

Ainslie: 2 days??!!

Craig: Yes, 2 days, and then she'll be home.

Ainslie (starting to wail again): But who's going to take care of us??????

My heart grew two sizes that day

Thursday, my baby took two large steps toward growing up--two steps that are wonderful and definitely in her best interest, but still---so large.

First, she got her Hogwa--preschool--letter in the mail. From her teacher, addressed to her, with her first-ever school supply list in it. She had to open it, then she had to read it (according to her it was about learning the planets and stars, since there were stars around the border of the paper.) We went down to the office and made a final selection of a personalized backpack to order.

Sigh.

Later that afternoon, we went to the waterpark, where, after 2/3 of a summer of loving the water but not wanting to put her face in, she swam. She's no Summer Sanders yet, but she put her whole body face down in the water, flailed her arms and kicked, and came up for air, repeatedly. She loved it. She is so proud of herself.

We have three weeks left of going to the waterpark, playing all day, and lolling around in summer splendor.

Flower Child

Thanks for the idea, Holly!

These were all taken this morning at Washington Park--except the ones where her face is painted; those are from Zoofari a couple weeks ago.

I can't believe how much my baby is starting to look like a big girl.

Harry Potter and The Tangled Thoughts of a Fan

Thank you, J.K. Rowling. Thank you for a piece of literature that will truly be with me always (I've already had HPDH dreams!)

I could go on and on and on and on and on and on about all the many things I think are so outstanding about the Harry Potter series, but last night while I was out for a run, I was thinking about all the people who say Harry is evil. How on earth can they think that? Especially when all the loose ends come together?

First of all, this is not a religious book. It is not trying to be a religious book at all. That said, since it is essentially about the struggle for good to overcome evil, it is quite easy to find religious allegory.

Especially in the end.

Stop reading here if you are avoiding Book 7 spoilers.




Several things save Harry Potter. One of these things is the protection his mother gave him as she sacrificed herself for him almost 17 years prior. This in itself, as a mother, makes me cry. Any of the mothers I know would do the same; we love our children with such a ferocity that it seems a given that that love should stay with them, in them, even after we are gone.

This same protection is one of the key factors in bringing down Voldemort. Due to his own hubris, Voldemort had also protected Harry, to a point, from death at his hands. Thus, blood, sacrificed through love, saved Harry, and also gave him the means to defeat Lord Voldemort. Non-Christian themes?
If they still think it's so evil, ah well, more copies for the rest of us!

Now I have to re-read and re-read and cross-reference and oh, Harry--how I will miss knowing even more of you, but I am so happy to Know what happened!

If you weren't convinced before, here's proof

I'm a freak. Got a pedicure yesterday. I have never been more excited about my feet.

Before the All-Star Break

We've been too busy to blog!

I just love summer. I especially love summer in the midwest, the soupy, sweaty, hot-and-sticky, wonderfulness of it all. I love the smell of chlorine and sunscreen mingled in Ainslie's hair. I love chubby little bottoms oozing out of swim-bottoms because the person in question is too busy climbing up the hill to the big waterslide to be bothered. I love the heat. I love that produce takes up the most room in our grocery cart. Ah.

Here is what we've been up to so far...

Summer kicked off with Ainslie's birthday party. The week after that was Princess Camp. Then, she did the first summer session of gymnastics. This month we are trading swimming for gymnastics, since she also started dance class. Intermingled in all this have been the summer reading program at the library and about a zillion trips to the waterpark. The season passes paid for themselves in about a week! Who wouldn't love to have Ainslie's life?

The adults in the house have been busy too. Thankfully, summer is wine and fruity cocktail season, so Craig has been busy. My work has slowed down a bit, but there has still been enough to keep me multitasking. We've also joined the church we'd been attending for almost a year, and are working on becoming more involved with various things there.

Coming up...tons of birthdays, Ainslie's baptism, more Cardinals games and my Harry Potter/PALP weekend! Ooh, and the Simpsons Movie, Order of the Phoenix, more trips to the waterpark, preschool orientation...

I love summer.

Deep Thought About Parenting

Those species that eat their young?

That must happen when the offspring turn three.

I think they may be on to something.

Princess Camp

Princess Camp. C'mon, doesn't the name make you smile just a little? Either genuinely or sardonically?

Today was the last day of Ainslie's week-long Princess Camp at the local dance studio. For an hour each morning this week, ten or so little girls twirled, dressed up, waved their wands, curtsied, made a craft, listened to a story and danced their little princess-loving hearts out.

This was our first drop-off-and-come-back-in-an-hour activity. This was the first time I've signed her up for something and then not been there to see what she was doing, so I only know what Ainslie told me. The first day they all got a princess name (hers was Gabriella, but they seemed to have dropped them after that first day.) They learned to curtsy "at a ball" and that was worth the price--the curtsy is priceless. She already knew the ballet/reverance curtsy, but this was a funny little bend-the-knee-and-bow number that makes me giggle each time she does it. They danced in a circle. They dressed up in costumes. There was a Hannah, a Lily, and a Rachel. That's about all I was told.

On Day 2, I peeked in as I left to make sure Ainslie was ok and not scared or lonely or anything. She was already telling the teacher something very important. She was fine.

On Day 3 when I picked her up, I was told Ainslie was cracking the staff up. That's all I know.

So today, finally, parents were allowed to watch for the last few minutes. Jasmine and Aurora had paid a special visit to dance with the princesses in training. Now, I still have mixed feelings on the whole princess thing, but tears sprang to my eyes watching these little girls absolutely suspending any disbelief over whether these teenage dance students in a prom gown and old recital costume WERE the real Aurora and Jasmine. Ainslie waved her wand, she twirled, she sang along, and when both songs (A Whole New World and Once Upon a Dream, of course)were over she rushed up with the other little girls to hug her heroines.

There was something so raw and poignant about watching her. I wish I had more moments of pure, unbridled in-the-moment-ness like that. Today, that's the lesson I've learned from my child. Let go sometimes. Don't hunt for errors. Take things at face value sometimes. And curtsy.

Got Your Jar Ready?

You may think I'm exagerrating if I say I live at the edge of town, next to a corn field, but it's true. I'm sure someday our subdivision will be further developed, but for now, I really enjoy having the fields around. It's very peaceful, the stars are bright at night, and now that it's summer, there is a new delight. Fireflies, or Lightning Bugs, as we grew up calling them, are everywhere!

Now, the cornfield to the west of us gives way to a soybean field about half a block down, and I saw something Monday night that I hadn't seen since childhood, visiting my grandparents. Hovering, as far as the eye can see (which, due to the treelessness of central Illinois is pretty far) were thousands of firefly lights. It was breathtaking. Ainslie was enthralled, and frankly, so was I. We all three just stood there and watched.

Yesterday, Ainslie was full of the promise of a "firebug" hunt, and she was at the ready, with a jar fashioned by Daddy and stuffed full of clover and grass. We managed to get enough of them to make quite a little lantern, and we 'kept' three of them, named Jaxey, Maxey, and Nanny. They are still alive, in case you wondered whether any lightning bugs were harmed...

We told her we'll go watch again tonight. Like most magical memories from childhood, Firefly Season passes all too quickly.

To Ainslie on (or a few days prior to) Her Third Birthday

Dear Ainslie,

Do you know that I don't think I've ever given you a birthday card? I'm sorry, but I hope that someday maybe you'll read some of these entries and they will take the place of cards.

To put it simply, and to use one of your, Bob, and Larry's favorite words, You Are Amazing.

I never dreamed I would be blessed with such a wonderful child. Sometimes I catch myself being smug at your wonderfulness. You really are so smart, funny, cute and well, ornery. Even though it frustrates me sometimes and makes me question whether I am fit to parent, I would rather you be your negotiating, independent, and yes, sometimes infuriating self than not express yourself and not try as hard as you can to get what you want. Someday, when you have gained some maturity, those traits will serve you well.

I can't believe the things that come out of your mouth. You use reason and logic in ways that astound me. You question processes beyond the usual "why" (although there is plenty of "why" in our house too.) Your perception of my opinions and feelings is a little disconcerting. I thought I had to be careful with what I say, now I have to be careful with tone. You understand sarcasm. You think "duh" is an hilarious word.

You break my heart with your sweetness. You tell me that you know Aunt Carrie lives with Jesus, so she must also live in my heart, since Jesus does too. You tell me you want to be a Mommy and a Teacher ("just like You!") when you grow up. Of course, you also say you want to be a princess.

You have a flair for the dramatic. You rarely just say you want something, it's usually, "It would be so (wonderful/amazing) to have a necklace like that, don't you think so?" You sleep in a tiara and plastic high heels. You refer to the Overskirt and Underskirt on your princess gowns, and you did NOT hear those terms from me. You make up epic songs based on stories or the events of the day. You make up words and then tell me you are speaking French or Spanish. "Cisco is French for Chicago, did you know that?" The fireplace hearth is your stage.

You're learning to spell and write. You're starting preschool in the fall and you are very excited. You insist on picking out your own clothes, sometimes several times a day.

You have no artifice. You have a confidence I never had and I hope you never lose. You love your friends, to the point of needing to "worry more about Ainslie." You are brave and outgoing. You talk to everyone.

Oh, kiddo. I pray that I can keep nurturing you the way you need to be nurtured in order to reach your full potential. I pray that the choices I make for you are in your best interest and not just what I deem Easiest or Most Fun. In my hubris, I'm afraid to turn you over to educators who, although I think they will recognize your gifts, may not realize how special you are. I pray that I can always be your best advocate, without embarrassing you to tears as you get older.

You are the best thing I've ever done; my biggest joy, my grandest blessing, and my greatest treasure.

I love you more than anything in the Whole Wide World,

Mommy

Preschool Screening (it's a One of Those Moms post)

If you don't want to hear about how wonderful and smart my kid is, you should skip this entry. It's gonna get deep.

We did the preschool screening today.

At the beginning, we were told, "We will give you a short report before you leave, but you won't know whether you get in until all children have been screened, in a few weeks.

"Getting in" means you are somehow at risk academically. When asked whether I had any concerns, I said no, but that I just wanted an objective opinion on her development. C'mon. The Truth is, I wanted to hear an actual early childhood specialist say my daughter is brilliant.

As we left, we were told, "There is no way she will be accepted. She did a wonderful job and is considerably ahead of where she should be in all areas."

There. Thank you.

It was fun to watch. As usual, Ainslie told people everything they could ever want to know and then some. She was downright rapturous about the Scissors, since they are forbidden fruit most of the time at home. She kept taking little asides to remind me that it was ok for her to have the scissors because there was a grown-up Right There. She even told them, "You know, I should be taking a nap right now, but today I don't have to because I'm here at your school."

She played catch, she hopped on one foot, she walked on a line ("do you know I can walk on my tippy toes? I do that at gymnastics."), she ran, she climbed stairs.

Funny, in 75 minutes, they didn't see anything. They don't know about her zooming up on her scooter to tell me, "I just came from England and brought you some pasta and bacon!" They don't know that, "Captain Hook *officially* lives in Disney World." They thought it was odd that she kept wandering to the bookshelf. One of them noted that someone her age, "shouldn't be so interested in books yet." ???????? Weird. Anyway, it was a good day.


Very, very thankful and proud mommy here.

Hmmmm

"Ainslie, are you getting into something?"

(from another room) "I might be..."

I think we're ok

Me: Ainslie, later this week, on Friday, we are going to the big kids' school. You get to play for awhile--I'll be there too--and a teacher is going to play with you and maybe ask you some questions, ok?

Ainslie: Ok. What are we going to play?

Me: Well, I'm not sure, but probably lots of things. Can you try everything for the teacher, just so she can see whether you can do it? Like, if she asks you to stack some blocks, can you just show her how?

Ainslie: Ok. I'll stack them all the way to the light!

Me: Great! Thank you! If she asks you questions, you can answer her, ok? Like, if she asks your favorite things to play, or eat, or your favorite stories, you can tell her, ok?

Ainslie: Ok. Let's pretend that you are the teacher and we are there right now.

Me: Ok. Hi, I'm Mrs. Wilson. What is your name?

Ainslie: My name is Ainslie. Ainslie Jane Wilson. I live on Eagle Ridge, Chatham Illinois.

Me: Well, it's nice to meet you. Ainslie, what do you like to play?

Ainslie: I just LOVE to stack blocks! It's so amazing!

Yeah. I think we're ok.