Gloria In Excelsis Deo! Again!

Ainslie's antics today in Penney's made me think of this post from 2 years ago.

I was returning some curtains and buying some window hardware, and she was running from curtain display "house" to house. She was also shouting, "Glory to God in the Highest! Glory to God in the Highest!"

Now, there is a screaming three-year old moment that nobody in these parts is going to give a withering stare!

I can't wait to see the preschool Christmas program next week!

Cart Ride

While grocery shopping yesterday, I was unabashedly singing along with the Christmas music. (Does anyone else do this?) Oooh, oooh, one of my favorites--Sleigh Ride!

10 minutes later, while perusing the frozen foods, Ainslie added a new verse.

Giddyup, Giddyup, my leg is cold!

I'm still giggling about it.

Catching my breath

Today was my last day of teaching for the quarter, and I'm not teaching next quarter--YAY! Of course, I still have a zillion papers to grade, but I'm breathing a nice sigh of relief.

Still lots of work on the other project, plus, you know, hosting Christmas and all, but whoohoo--what freedom to not have to be somewhere, dressed up, in the middle of my other jobs.

Amazing how much better I feel!

I've also been trying to let more things go--and finding just a tiny bit of success. When did I develop a Bree complex? New picture for the Christmas card? Nah--I'm using one from the Gap contest that I liked. Letter for the Christmas card? Nah--most people know what's going on with me anyway. Make my own cards? Not this year!

Anyway, I'm just rambling. I should be reading a zillion gb file to discuss with the client on Thursday, but, you know, I'm trying to slow down a bit.

Profound thoughts of my little diplomat

"Mom, what does it mean to crash a party?"

"It means that you go to a party that you were not invited to--it's very rude."

"Like when Maleficent showed up at the party and put a spell on the baby?"

"Yes! Exactly like that."

"Mom? Do you think that if the king and queen would have invited Maleficent, maybe she wouldn't have been so mean?"

No More Thursdays and Something is Wrong With Me

Two titles for two posts, but they are related.

I'm done with Thursdays. No more class on Thursday, thanks to Thanksgiving and finals week. No more small group on Thursdays. This one is over, and really, I can't do another one for awhile.

That's where the other title comes in. I've had the nagging feeling for the past couple weeks that something is not right. I sometimes have trouble breathing. I've had insomnia for the first times in my life. I can't focus on one thing very long. Stress. I know it is, but I can't relax. I get even more stressed at the thought of nothing to do--which is really weird, because I could really use a break.

In my head, I'm at least a month ahead. I'm all but finished Christmas shopping, and the gifts are wrapped.

The Project That Won't End (or Begin) is in constant Hurry Up and Wait Mode, so I get all worked up, thinking that I have to get going on what I can, as quickly as possible, then, while we wait--I think that the house needs to be immaculate, all laundry done, meals planned and made ahead, etc.

Ridiculous.

I know I'm being ridiculous, but physiologically, something is off.

Two more weeks of class on Mondays and Tuesdays, and then we'll see. I know I need to be still. I know I need to listen. I know I need to chill.

Efficiency has always been something I've valued. As we were taking a final look at our values last night in LifeKeys, I had a mini-epiphany. Maybe I need to change my values? Maybe doing things quickly and ahead is not what is best for me, my personality, my passions, and most importantly, my child. Am I teaching Ainslie to never be still? (At the moment we're ok--she's chilled in front of Little Einsteins,) but it seems like we are always doing something, because I can't just Be.

In the group last night, we were also talking about when we felt we might put what we've discovered about ourselves to use, and that God doesn't necessarily mean for us to make changes Right This Minute. I said that I felt like changes are coming, and that I see things I want to do, maybe in a year.

My answer was by far the farthest away. Most people said within weeks. To me, a year doesn't seem that far away, and that scares me a little.

I don't feel sad. Or angry. Or hopeless, desperate or despondent. Just tense and frazzled. Think hummingbird on steroids.

We are planning on taking a vacation in January. Of course, besides thinking how nice it will be and how much we need to take a break, I get all tense thinking about where I will be on The Project by then.

Thank You, Lord, for my Daughter

4:30 AM.

A: Mom, I need to snuggle with you.
Me: Ok. You'll need to take off your wings and crown.


Somehow, it was necessary for her to change into a fairy costume, complete with tights, for the long trek to our bedroom.

Chewing and chewing and chewing

Week 4 of 10 of this quarter teaching...
Week 4 of 8 of the LifeKeys class at church (that I volunteered to help with a looong time ago, not knowing when it was actually happening)
Week ? of ? of a nice juicy project
Preschool, dance, and gymnastics (oh, my!)

I've taken a big ol' bite.

Right now, Monday night Ainslie goes to dance, I go to teach.
Tuesday, we have preschool, then Ainslie has lunch with Grampa while I teach, then I go back to teach at night.
Wednesday morning we have gymnastics.
Thursday is a repeat of Tuesday, except that we have LifeKeys and Ainslie plays with her beloved Ms. L in the church nursery--then we race home to try to catch The Office. :-)

Meanwhile, I'm working (training) more than usual, and next week it's going to start being a lot more.

It's good. I like being busy. I like that Christmas and the dining room furniture are covered.
It's too much. I hate grading 80 papers a week. Craig is pitching in, but the house is...not up to anybody's standards.
It's only 10 weeks (at least for teaching these three sections), and it's nearly half over. A person can do anything for 6 weeks, right?

Go Ask Alice

My mom finished Ainslie's Alice in Wonderland costume, and it is adorable.

When Ainslie tried it on, she gasped at her reflection and said, "oh, Mommy, I am Alice!"

But--

Every time--every time--she talks to someone about it, you know, random people in public who ask her what she's dressing up as for Halloween, it goes something like this:

Random Person: What are you going to be for Halloween?
A: Alice in Wonderland
RP: Oh, that will be so pretty. Did your mommy make your costume?
A: Oh, no! Mommy can't sew! Not at all. Grammie made it.

I've accepted the fact that activities that require precision and attention to detail are not in the cards for me, but really, does she have to announce it like that?

I love this kid

After a harrowing no-nap day with my husband in Chicago and no break from the constant chatter, Ainslie and were finally snuggled together in her bed, and she wanted to read.

She can read a few words. I wouldn't say she'll be into War and Peace any time soon, but she can read a few words and I just love that electric spark that goes through us both when she really, really reads a new word. It's just magical!

Anyway, you know how those 'learn-to-read' books have rhymes and pictures so the kids can figure out what the words are? Well, this page was different. It said,
"Some kids play music and
some kids play sports."

She's getting "kids" and "play" out of all of this, and yes, this is largely because of the repetition within the book, BUT--she asked, "Mom, what's a sport?"

My response was that a sport is a game or activity where you use your body, like soccer, gymnastics, baseball...

"...or quidditch?"

YES, like quidditch! I love my daughter!

Apparently

I am the sort of person who can hate a little kitten. I really, really detest Joe the Kitten. Yearning for a pet-free existance...

Sophie, the kitten, is a boy (m )

Yes. Apparently Craig and I are unable discern between male and female cats. Fortunately, the vet can.

When I told Ainslie, her first response was that, "maybe we should call her Joe instead." On further reflection, she has slipped into the Denial Stage.

I guess the spaying appt will have to be reworded.

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.