The Boys' Room

My married daughter's recent family project could be labeled: Consolidate & Divide. Consolidate, meaning that her two boys will share a room rather than have separate rooms. Divide meaning there will be two unique bedrooms. One dubbed "The Boys' Room," and the other, "The Girls' Room." Baby Sister will share her room with the other female in the house, Mommy. The two boys and Daddy will share the other room. And then the third bedroom is the master bedroom, for Mommy's and Daddy's clothing and such, and maybe for sleeping, too.

The addition of Baby Sister to the family and into the house 6 months ago created the need for The Girls' Room. No girls are allowed in The Boys' Room. They steal and ruin toys.

Behind-the-scenes thought, discussion, and communication for the room changes have been in the works for weeks. Big Brother isn't losing his private bedroom, he is gaining a Boys' Room. Boys' Room #1 and Boys' Room #2 would have been way too complicated. So, yes, just one Boys' Room. Talk of new sheet purchases for the boys' beds makes the idea of room sharing exciting. 

In The Boys' Room, Younger Brother will sleep in his crib for a while longer. Until he adjusts to room-sharing. And down the road, new sheets. Woot woot. They will be a visual for all to see. The Boys' Room. A club. The powerful Avengers theme will definitely scream BOYS' ROOM. 

The weekend for the big experiment arrives, Big Brother helped to move 2-year-old brother's crib into The Boys' Room. Mom and Dad finally exclaim, "It's bedtime!" 

Big brother and Younger Brother climb the stairway together. The drill has been thoroughly explained, so Big Brother understands everything. Backwards and forwards. He rehearses it aloud as they climb the steps. "We're going to The Boys' Room. Cool!"

Younger brother is only 2 years old and doesn't quite get the concept. All he knows is that for some reason his crib is in brother's room. Maybe it is for... one.big.night.of.party!

Mommy and Daddy read bedtime stories and give goodnight kisses, which leads to, "It's bedtime in The Boys' Room. For Boys' Only. We love you. Close your eyes and sleep tight."

Immediately, younger brother begins to giggle. Big Brother is staying! It is a party! As the two lay on their respective mattresses, Younger Brother giggles and Big Brother giggles back. And younger brother's giggles continue.

Big Brother has a responsibility. To let Mom and Dad know what's going on. Shuffle, shuffle, shuffle through the hallway, pitter, patter down the steps, and shuffle, shuffle into the living room. "Brother isn't asleep yet. He keeps giggling."

"That's alright. Just give him time. Hopefully he'll fall asleep soon. Goodnight, sweetie."

"Night, Mommy and Daddy."

Back up the stairs Big Brother goes. And it won't be his last visit to the living room. Additional play-by-plays occur over the next hour. Those play-by-plays are an important part of the room-share agreement. Then, finally, it is quiet in The Boys Room. All night long it is peaceful. Ahhhh.

Tweaking rules about sharing Legos will come. And other room-sharing rules. One night down, and a childhood to go.

Grandparenting Pecking Order

     When former United States President, Bill Clinton, began a discussion with former United States President George Bush, pertaining to Bush’s role as a grandparent, George Bush defined a grandparent as the lowest person in the pecking order of the family.

     A witty, Senior blogger's perspective: "Amazing, two men who didn’t fall off a turnip truck in their former lives, but who held the position which belongs to the most powerful person in this country, and they have been, or will consider themselves, relegated to the bottom of the family pecking order."

     As a grandparent, I ponder this topic. If opposing political parties bond on any idea, it is something to note. During my formative years, all of my grandparents were absent due to either choice, distance, premature death, or parental pecking boundaries. In other words, key potential champions were lacking. "Grandpa Walton" was not cheering in my corner of the ring. 

     Ever the daughter of an analytical lawyer, granddaughter of an inventive entrepreneur, and amateur historian banished to the intuitive catacombs, I decided to create a flow chart that explores the question: Are the former Presidents' comments regarding grandparenting pecking order balanced?

Peckers, start your pecking. 

Parents are at the top, beginning their pecking at the bold red arrows

Balance begins when grandparents discern they possess quiet influence

The glory of young men is their strength, gray hair the splendor of the old (Proverbs 20:29).

Flow Chart Legend:  Top pecker(s) = parents young strength;  Bottom Smiler(s) = grandparents gray splendor
(Ear-&-nose hairs, arthritis, weak eyes, and graying or balding only enhance the splendor)

     It takes a bit of patience to follow the pecks. In an ideal world, with two parents and two sets of mutual-drive grandparents, the flow chart above illustrates overwhelmed pickled peckers situated at the top (the parents)... raising their chickadees with the added bonus of emotionally supportive (yet not bossy) grandparents... with all members balancing quite aptly on a balance board.

     Grandparents have a humble, yet splendor-laden position. Those with natural gray hair are positioned to indirectly enhance the world; to add volumes of love, support, quiet influence, as well as key discerning prayer into the lives of our adult children and our grandchildren. Two former U.S. Presidents seem to already know that.

     

Mom's Day Memorabilia

     Precocious pre-schoolers and Mother's Day cards. A zillion trees could be saved, but wouldn't we miss the priceless sentiments of scribbled memorabilia?

     One 4-year-old budding Picasso draws his Jill stick-figure with embellishments like shoes and even gold earrings. His teacher asks what he likes about Mom, and she pens the boy's exact spirited words.

     Hours later, eating hamburgers for dinner, his mind somehow rabbit-trails back to those gushy words he shared with his teacher... "Mom, come wiff me to the refrigerator…"

     Mom is quizzical about her little one's request, interrupting mealtime, but presses pause to follow her boy. The pre-reader points and inquisitively asks, "Read this... what does it say?"

     She finally reads and digests the endearing words on her card. Words she might remember for years to come. "Sweetie, your card reads, 'I like Mom when she doesn't make yucky food.' "

     Hmmmm… Does he mean "Mom, your hamburgers are yummy. Thanks for making them tonight"?!?

     No. The unexpectedly refined, neo-vegetarian Mother's Day coaching message is:  "Mom, HAMBURGERS are YUCKY."

Close Encounters of the Teeth Kind

 J, February 2013

This February 2013 selfie-blog is to help remember, and hopefully to inspire other Priceless connecting encounters

     On the heels of a busy, week-long visit with my daughter and her family, I reminisce. I treasure each precious visit and manage to maneuver at least one camera shot of myself with our only grandchild. He is a tremendous 2-year-old crumb-snapper. A few of our connecting close encounters somehow remain "forever-captured."

      Why do I emphasize somehow? Because he is always-in-motion, squirmy, and sometimes elusive. It is challenging to still his activity AND snap the selfie. I intentionally limit my photo ops and try to not strong-arm him for the few shots we do manage to sculpt. A food-dribbled shirt or toothpaste-filled mouth enhance a photo. The naturally-occurring moments are priceless, so intentionality is a must to maneuver into his little world. 

     During this particular visit, I ended up with three forever-captured connecting, close encounters: brushing our teeth together, playing in the snow, and tumbling on the couch, sort of together. Those unified moments warm the heart like a good old "bear hug" or an "awww" newborn-moment; and, hopefully? enhance our long-distance bond. Time will tell.

      Recalling our daughter's Saturday evening church service during that same visit, I am reminded of an intriguing aspect. God respects my little world. I am busy, and sometimes even scattered, squirmy, and elusive. He prefers to not strong-arm, but cherishes naturally-occurring times with me. Times when my mind enters His FOREVER realm. He treasures our connecting close encounters. 

W, February 2015, deja-vu

     That evening during one particular song, my spirit felt a strong warmth, for an unusually extended time. My heart was touched, and grateful tears ensued. In fact, I now imagine hearing a faint  "click" as a FOREVER-selfie might have been snapped. A salty-droplet and dribbled face mattered not and may have even enhanced the imagined photo, connecting with my Savior, the King of kings.

     "...I once was lost, but now am found, was blind but now I see"... Amazing Grace.

WILL-power & Shapes Puzzles

     I confess to brief, black-and-white descriptions of perfectionists and entrepreneurs in this blog, included for the sake of illustration; and, additionally, I might be cramming round shapes into square holes or vice versa... I also confess to idealism and the justifiable criticism it invites. Maybe I do it for love.

     Perfectionists. They strive for an uncanny order and a controlled world. Disorder creates an inordinate and unmanageable "disturbance in the force." They avoid flustering disturbance because why would anyone want to touch a burning hot oven twice? That is the way disorder feels to them. Sometimes, uncannily, perfection can be directed to one narrow area, with all other areas in total disarray.

     The overall nature of a true perfectionist differs from a flexible, risk-taking entrepreneur. Entrepreneurs might have perfectionist tendencies, but on their road to success, they generally fail, one or more times, and they try, try again. They seem to be more tolerant of temporary disorder, and they doggedly maneuver through hot stove experiences. They see beyond failure and create work-arounds. And that leads this inquiring mind to wonder:

     Can a shapes puzzle encourage a 1-year-young to see beyond failure? To press on? To courageously live?

     At the age of 5, if I had never before attempted a basic shapes puzzle, I could have easily aced the challenge. Finding the right hole for the circle, the square, the rectangle, the star, the heart, and the triangle would have been a cinch. But, that would have proven little. I would have missed practicing so many other important character-shaping qualities. Unlimited, intangible other skills are acquired during the process of toddler shapes-fail.

     Imagine the varied things a 1-year-young can safely practice and learn when working a shapes puzzle. At that age, learning-to-learn is the invaluable return. Diverse and beneficial by-product skills include:

Shapes puzzling on the notepad reinforces to an eager 1.5-year-young:

Learn by trusted observation, and try, try again
(The befitting dotted leggings are not a piece of the shapes puzzle)

• Comfort facing the unknown
• Hard work and willpower
• Failing does not equal failure; try, try again
• Being flexible while cooperating with the shapes system
• Learning through trusted observation
• The intrinsic joy of accomplishment, and, 
• The obvious skill of visual recognition and acuity.

     And into adulthood? Going to college. Opening that new business venture (if the risk appears worth it). Learning a new skill.

     The values of failing and willpower remind me of a harrowing scene in the unusual and primitively-set movie, The Village. A group of people a Village decade ago chose to live separate from society, free of technology and medical advancements. A young man in the clan is seriously injured and needs life-saving medicine, which they do not have. The medicine can only be obtained by walking, through miles of dark woods, potentially facing ominous creatures that for a decade have haunted the villagers. The mere mention of the creatures sends shivers down spines and makes neck hairs stand on end.

     Who in the village volunteers to face creatures as well as the ominous woods to reach civilization? Not the able-bodied, and not the teen boys. Instead, the young man's fiance. She is brave. She is bold. She is in love. And, she is physically blind. Yet, though her vision fails, other keen senses take over. With walking stick in hand, she faces the unseen, solo. After a lifetime of daring challenges with bumps, bruises, failures and maybe even stove burns... she utilizes survival work-arounds. She successfully weaves through trees and brush, and even avoids and then utilizes a perilous pit, facing a life-threatening attack. Beyond love, she courageously lives.

And, on a personal note---

     My life is a work-around. God through his Son Jesus saved me from certain eternal death, He faced Satan and won. He loves me...beyond. And one day I will see my Savior in Heaven. And that's not all. In "the day of salvation" He.Immensely.Helped.Me. and He Continues To Help Me. I still live on this earth, and I press on, in training.

    " '...and in the day of salvation I helped you.' I tell you, now is the time of God's favor, now is the day of salvation..." (2 Corinthians 6).

     "Put your blinders on and run your race, and don't compare yourself to the other horses... focus on your own race and just do your best, the prize often goes to the person who tries the hardest" (Leeza Gibbons).

     I am a thoroughbred in training. My most recent and basic personal training opportunity: A 10-day "home missions"-trip and its return drive. Chicago-to-home, in my car, I miss a turn on the overwhelming St. Louis bridge, at Busch Stadium heading to 44. I feel a considerable "disturbance in the force." I fail; fill up with gas; laugh; and follow my GPS's work-around instructions. What's the worst that could happen? and I ask, "Was the road trip necessary? did my pregnant daughter need my assistance during her husband's lengthy business trip? Yes."

     This unconventional, selectively-perfectionist, photo-bombed writer who employs the story-bomb will embrace highway failure, (lovable) grandchild chaos, a never-ending stomach bug, feline dander, a 16-inch snow blizzard's shoveling aftermath (great cardio), AND, she will laugh through it all. And, less than a month from now, face it all again, including the solo, round-trip 16-hour drive... over the harrowing Mississippi River and through the woods... beyond love, for a special granddaughter's birth. The experiences strengthen my (aging) persistence and love muscles.

     In closing, a segue, for me, which is most important: Failing.to.write.is.failure. Keep observing, and for Heaven's sake, keep on writing... God is shaping me. To see the immeasurable.

     February's road trip take-away: Beyond love, courageously living... the Voice of Heart-Truth.

The powerful play goes on, and you can contribute a verse
(Walt Whitman)