Falling for a Pigeon / My Love-Hate Relationship with Disney

Here are the books we are loving around here right now -- The Pigeon books and Knuffle Bunny Books by Mo Willems.  Mo is a genius.  Plain and simple.  He wrote for Sesame Street for many years, and received several awards before becoming a children's author/illustrator. 

What I love about The Pigeon is that the drawings are so very basic, and yet the way this pigeon talks has you laughing out loud.  Seriously.  Just take my word for it and get everything by Mo Willems with a pigeon on the cover.

Knuffle Bunny is also great for any little one in preschool. 

Mo totally gets kids. 

And now, for a word on Disney.  There's a side of me that loves Disney and all the great entertainment they have provided my family over the years. 

C'mon, Winnie the Pooh?  The Incredibles?  UP!?! 

I doubt there is a family in the United States of America without at least one Disney movie in the house.  They are as much a part of our lives now as getting the car filled with gas, or going to the grocery store. 

But then there's another side of me that hates that.  I hate how well they know what kids love and how to market it to them.  I hate how intricately they know parents and what we'll fork over to see our kids smile.  And I hate it when they do something like this:

Yup, that's an astrology book for kids.  Look up your birthday and see which character is most like you. 

No thanks, Disney.  Stick to Pixar short films and little rats cooking in Paris or flying elephants, thank you.

Indiana Wesleyan University Chorale

Ah, Chorale.  Where I lost my voice everyday from over-singing really high notes....

This video is from 2007, so I'm obviously not in there (no old jokes, thank you)...but I had to share one of my favorite songs we used to perform.  Is it just me, or is this song on fast forward?  Maybe there were only 2 minutes left in the concert...SING LIKE THE WIND!!!

I am heading to IWU next weekend for homecoming to sing with an alumni choir, along with the current IWU Chorale. Not sure I can hit these high notes anymore, but I'll gladly bust a vocal chord trying!

The Hope of September

Aaron came to me this morning as he was working in the garage with four little life jackets. I sighed as I took them to a downstairs closet, where they will wait until May or June for more action.

As I snapped one and thought of the golden children who wore them, I could smell sunscreen and the lake. I almost cried, realizing that another summer had passed, a summer that would never come again, when our children were 2, 5, 7, and 9. Each summer feels like a sand dollar, so fragile and beautiful in itself.

September can be moody – hot and sultry one day, cool and rainy the next, heavy with the scent of the coming change. We hope for one last spin on the tube behind the boat, or one last bike ride while the light lasts long after dinner time.

But this September was rainy and cool, as if summer had given all the hot days it could manage for Minnesota. After Labor Day, the heat simply never returned.

Now our entry way, once littered with tiny flip-flops and sandals, now bulges with heavy tennis shoes, backpacks, and fleece jackets. We resign ourselves to another fall and winter, remembering that every season brings a unique kind of joy if we’ll only embrace it, instead of fighting it.

It's not THAT bad...

Aaron is out of town this week until Friday for work.

I try not to be in "survival" mode when he leaves, but let's be honest here.  Parenting four children is not a task one can do alone for very long.  I feel like one of those performers you see at a circus, running from one plate to the next, keeping them from shattering into a thousand pieces. 

When they finally all fall asleep at night, I grab my apple with peanut butter, and climb into bed with the first season of Alias on DVD, anxious to escape into the world of espionage and adventure.  Man, that was a great show.

The first night Aaron was gone, my oldest son obviously had some worries.

"Mom?  How are we gonna pay the bills??"

Sunday

At 2:10, GOOSEBUMPS. By 5:50, I'm a goner.

We will not forget WHO YOU ARE and WHAT YOU'VE DONE!!! Glory to God.

Taking My Own Advice

A few days ago, I wasn't sure what working part-time would look like.  I wondered what would happen to all of us as a family, and if it would take every shred of sanity I had left. And Monday night of this week, I found myself waving the white flag. But here I am, almost finished with my second week of school.  Let's review.

1) The family is doing okay.  Hope struggled the first week a little bit, which was to be expected.  But I'm still so thankful that we have a wonderful daycare right at the school where she can play while I work. Jonathan also plays there on Tues/Thurs mornings, his "off" preschool days.  Sometimes the hardest part of my day is just dropping her off and picking her up.  She's two.  'Nuff said.

2) I get home around 12:30, so I still feel like I have a chance to figure out dinner, do some laundry, and general "house stuff."   Without my afternoon time, I think I'd definitely be headed for the funny farm.

3)  How good it was of God to help me fall in love and marry a man who would not only be a faithful husband and father, but a man who is willing to tell me hard things when I need to hear them.  On Monday night of this week, I was done.  Done.  I felt buried and frustrated and stupid for thinking I could do this.  Let's just say, he gave me some words of timely wisdom. :)

4)  I helped lead a women's ministry event last Sunday night, and I shared how God has been teaching me to be still.  Not just quiet, but still as in, STOP STRUGGLING.  Stop trying to control your life, and let Me work.  I realized after that "Monday Night Meltdown" that I needed to take my own advice.  Let Him be my strength, recognize this will be hard, and move forward.

This Makes Me Happy

I Don't Know What This Looks Like

Tonight was the open house/meet-the-teacher at Community Christian School, where I will be teaching Secondary English on a part-time basis.  As I watched the students giggling together, piling supplies into their lockers, and running from room to room, I had to take a few deep breaths. 

This is really happening.  These are my students.  I am their English teacher. 

There's a part of me that is thrilled.  Standing in front of students each day is energizing to me, and nothing compares to a lively discussion about truth, beauty, or the way a powerful poem makes you feel.  But there is another side of me that is tired before I've even taught one lesson.  I don't know how this will flesh out -- this working and being a mom and a wife and a friend and....*sigh*  The Hats of a Woman.

But I know I'm supposed to do this.  I know it in that deep-gut place where you feel His Voice telling you to move, to speak, to act.

So I will teach.  And I will still be a mom and a wife and a friend and all those other roles that make me who I am.  I just have no idea right now how those pieces will all fit together.  My prayer is that I will have the grace to let myself be "good enough."  I don't have to be perfect in all these roles. 

I think I'll go make that last line into a poster...