Six Years Old

So hard to believe that my exuberant, brilliant, ready for anything child is six years old.

Jonah Day

It is so easy as a parent to forget that we set the tone for how our family begins the day. When I was single and only had a career to consider, it was relatively easy to plan ahead for most contingencies...o.k....except for the occasional parent jumping out of the box when I arrived at school because of a well-crafted tale spun by a twelve year old. But, for the most part, I was ready to go.

Now that I live in the real world of family, job, etc., the planning ahead often becomes "let the current take you where it will". We all have this experience, but it is so important to remember that sometimes as we go screaming down the river with that current, a child, spouse, or neighbor is being taken down it screaming with us.

Anne of Green Gables called such days "Jonah Days". Remember Jonah...gets called to do a great work which involved showing truth with compassion to people he really did not like...ran away (boy! can I relate to that!)...got caught in a sinking ship, thrown overboard, swallowed whole by a great fish, puked up on a beach, etc. Then, after doing what he should have done in the first place, still could not find the compassion and was instead only concerned that his little bit of comfort was taken away.

Well. My day does not seem all that bad now. In the process though, I felt myself tearing up in a vice-principal's office and feeling like a small child. MY little bit of comfort was being taken away. Perspective helps, so I decided to write it out in the blog.

I am in the process of decision making regarding my career development. I need to go back to work full-time. Why? Well...my family needs me to do that. I need something to at least give me the illusion of retirement and medical benefits. On the purely selfish side, I happen to like having a career. I enjoy knitting and cooking, but I like the mental stimulation of the work place as well. If I were rich, I would open a tearoom and plan out lots of fun activities, host corporate and religious retreats, and teach children good manners. Since I am not, I am keeping to what I already know - teaching.

There are two paths that need exploring. The first will take time and involves getting recertified and going through the painstaking lengthy task of getting hired by the local school district in a time of economic bust. The second is to try for a full-time online job with the corporation for which I teach part-time.

All this rambling brings me to this morning. I had a scheduled phone interview for 9:30. I was prepared for it, so I do not know why I was stressed, but I was. I had to get Miriam to school. Uh oh...she is having trouble waking up. The little zombie gets down the stairs, but needs to "wake up a bit on the sofa". I leave her milk and a cheese stick nearby and lay out the clothes. I start to get myself ready while also calling the husband to wake him up. He has a different work schedule, but gets up to say good-bye every morning. Uh oh...he is having trouble waking up. I should have seen it coming.

Tension rises. Child doesn't want to eat. Milk gets spilled. I am not yelling, but am firmly insisting that child gets dressed. Leggings are not given child stamp of approval. Next set of pants are stained from mud. New leggings are finally chosen. Food is still not eaten. Now, we are running late and child has just started morning cuddle time with Daddy. Mommy is having rising Mommy tension and begins the lecture on how we live in the real world which is not set to our own personal biological clock. We finally get out the door, but the tension is now an aura around us. By the time we get to school, Miriam is really not in the hugging mood where I am concerned. So, I hug her, tell her I love her, and leave to get home in time for the interview.

The interview turns out to be the first round, so was short. Great. That means, if I make the cut, another next week. I hope I learn to manage the morning better so that I have time for relaxation techniques.

I decide to be sociable and head off to knitting group at my church. The church is a two minute drive. I fall on the ice going to the SUV. I then drop my knitting needles under the SUV. I finally am on the way and listening to NPR. As I turn in the church parking lot, somehow I run into a snow bank. I wonder if NPR is broadcasting some kind of subliminal hypnotic message because it was a ridiculous place to have this happen.

My husband cancels a dental appointment to come pull me out. In the meantime, conversation turns a bit political in the knitting group. (On a side note, if any presidential candidate took up knitting, I suspect he would win easily in the MatSu Borough.) I, of course, open my big mouth to express my opinion just as I am going out the door to try to get the SUV out. I decide to just go home where I eat three pieces of chocolate and put an ice pack on my hip and back which are reacting to the fall.

Is there such a thing as some kind of psychic bond with one's child? Probably not. Probably it was just my own tension this morning and the fact that she had no breakfast. Eating jelly beans with food coloring yesterday probably did not help either. Whatever it was, I enter a classroom with no Miriam. She is eating lunch in the office because she had a morning full of meltdowns and then refused to wash her hands at lunch. Sigh....

So that is how I ended up trying not to tear up in the vice principal's office, who is one of the nicest administrator's I have ever met. She handled Miriam perfectly. It was a Jonah Day all around.

Next time, I need to work on the mental discipline to at least give my family the illusion that I am not rushed, not tense, not worried that I am going to have no time to transition to work. After all, if we act like something is true, very often it becomes reality.

Thinking Ahead

Well the holidays are over. I still haven't taken done the tree, but hopefully that will get done this week. I should not be thinking about Pascha (Easter) just yet, but I guess I just want to think Spring in the midst of horribly below normal temperatures and a world of white.

I experimented with some candy making today which made me think about alternative "treats" to the annual Easter Egg hunt. Not that I want to ruin the fun! To the contrary, I know that my child likes the candy haul, but actually gets satiated pretty quickly. We do not allow the open candy box even on holidays. About half has a good chance of ending up in the circular file unless it is chocolate.

My abstract random brain was wandering down its usual rabbit trail when it came upon...a rabbit. A small knitted rabbit. Or maybe it was felted. I started to envision a whole new Easter Egg hunt. A child dressed in his Pascal best finds an egg. It is a good sized pink egg that when he opens it up, the tiny rabbit hatches out. "Oh!" thinks the child, "something different. Something I can play with!" At another tree, a little girl in her Easter bonnet finds another egg, out of this one comes a homemade chocolate covered butter cream eggs. Yum! No artificial junk, just butter, sugar, and chocolate. Some of the eggs are plastic. Some are felted or knitted. Some just have nice secret messages like "Christ is Risen!" Some have little toys or prayer bracelets or tiny crosses or homemade goodies.

Sigh...it probably would take too much work. It is probably a bit too non-traditional. Probably better stick with the jelly beans. But one can wish.

Message and Medium

Spoken communication has never been my strong point. When I was in school, from late elementary until my senior year in high school, I would literally hyperventilate if I had to talk in front of the class.

Writing however gave me an easier outlet. Perhaps it was because I could take time to actually formulate my message. It gave me a safeguard so that I didn't say something totally offensive or stupid off the cuff. Even as a teacher, I planned out my lesson and was usually comfortable with my topic.

I am an introvert. In order to communicate my ideas effectively, I really have to let them stew for a bit and formulate HOW to say what I need to say. Which brings me to the my thoughts today.

Electronic media has given me a whole new challenge. Yes, it allows a wait time. Yes, it is mostly written. However, it still has the tone of a conversation, especially social media. I forget sometimes, especially if I feel strongly about what or how something is being communicated, to wait and think out the response. I always think I am being diplomatic, but, when communicating with people who may have strong emotions, I usually end up coming across as being oppositional.

The irony in all this is that often, not always, I may agree with 90% of what is being said. It is the tone of communication that goes against my grain. Most people remember that now famous Seinfeld episode with the "Soup Nazi". The man in question had the best soup in the city. People would stand in line for hours to get that soup. But he was also was downright oppressive and nasty. Elaine breaks the "rules" for getting the soup because she is determined not to be pushed around. Of course, she ends up being on the outs with the Soup Nazi. We all laugh at that. Why? Because we know that there is a truth to the situation. There are those who enjoy having power, even if they just own a soup stand. We will submit to a lot to be part of a group, to join the bandwagon, to get something good.

Introvert that I am, I have a bit of Elaine in me. I don't like bossiness - not even from legitimate bosses. I do like respect - not just for me, but for everyone. You see, I think that a good message reaches more people when presented in a pleasant, respectful package. There is an old saying, "You catch more flies with honey than with vinegar." I think this is particularly true in some areas that are very sacred. Parenting, family issues, personal habits, religion, and politics are such areas where pleasantness and appropriate boundaries can go along way to advancing a message. I might be able to have a conversation about my faith to someone who is open to discussing it, but if I take my dogma and use it to make others feel in anyway diminished, then any truth in my message will probably be lost.

So, I am reminding myself to hold back, listen, and, only if necessary, formulate a response that actually draws people to the message instead of pushing them away.

A fairy story

Once upon a time, there was a little fairy. She was a bit wild as fairies tend to be, but in a nice way. She had a big heart for such a little person. Because of her big heart, she had a hard time handling the big feelings that came its way. When she was happy, she danced and sang and laughed loudly.

"Shush!" said the bigger fairies. "Calm down! It isn't the right time for that!"

When she was frustrated or angry, she felt like she would just explode. Sometimes, she would just kick or hit the nearest thing. Even when it was her favorite fairy friend. She was always sorry later. She knew that she should have controlled her feeling, but just had not figured out how to do it. You see, she hadn't grown into the right size for such a big heart yet.

Once, she had a wonderful week with her Mommy and Daddy fairies! Usually, they had to work. They worked a lot. They often worried - especially Mommy fairy. They both were often tired. But this week, there was no work and no worry and everyone could rest when they needed to. They played games and went special places and just ....were.

When the week was over, the little fairy was sad. She had a wonderful week and did not want it to end. She also had a wish that had not yet been fulfilled. She had wished and wished that during the wonderful week, she would be able to visit her old granny. "No, we cannot do that this week" said her mother and father, "We do not have enough fairy treasure to go that far away."

The time came for the fairy child to go back to school and her parents to go back to work. She was feeling lots of things at once. She did not want Mommy and Daddy to go back to work and get tired again. She wanted to see her friends at school, but did not want to leave home. She still was wishing to see her old granny. So many feelings....

The night before school started again, she could not sleep. She could not lay still. She got out of bed for a drink. She got out of bed for a snack. She wanted her favorite song. Finally, she fell into a fitful sleep.

The next day was a good day. She got to see all her friends. She was tired, but worked very hard at being a good friend. Only when Mommy picked her up did she finally start to cry and cry and cry. She fell asleep on the way home.

The next day was a good day. Until Mommy picked her up. "Look what I got!" she told her Mommy. She held up what looked like money. "It is a million dollars! Now we can go see Granny!" Mommy looked at the money. It was not fairy money, but human money. It could not pay for the trip to see Granny. The little fairy started to get a little grumpy when leaving school, but took a good nap at home and felt better. Then, evening came. Daddy fairy was tired from work and dozed off. Mommy fairy was working, working, working. No one was there to give the little fairy cuddles. She started to get grumpy again. She wanted her doll, but it was outside. Mommy said, "You cannot go out in the dark." Finally, Mommy finished work and took the little fairy to bed.

The next day was not a good day. The little fairy cuddled up to her Mommy before school. At school, her big feelings were overwhelming. She cried at snack time. She cried at play time. She cried at rest time. She cried at story time. She wanted her Mommy. Finally, Mommy came and they went home. The little fairy took a nap. When she got up, she cuddled with Mommy fairy for awhile and called her old granny on the fairy phone and talked a long time. She felt better.

The other fairies at the fairy school wondered about the little fairy. Why did she have so many big feelings? Maybe it is something she ate too much of. Maybe her mother or father has big feelings. Maybe they do not know enough about little fairies - after all, they only have the one. Maybe they give little fairy too much attention or too many toys or....there must be something wrong.

Sometimes, Mommy fairy worried too. She tended to worry about what others thought too much. Afterall, she wanted to have friends in the fairy forest too. Maybe it would be better just to agree with them all. But, no, she knew that little fairy was very special. She had a big heart. She just needed to grow into those big feelings. Then, she would still have great joy, great love, and great sorrow, but would be able to keep them in more and handle them gently.

Christmas Eve

Bob and Miriam have gone to church as I sit here pondering what I need to do in the food department to prepare for the big day. We decided that Bob would take Miriam today, and I would go tomorrow with her since Bob is the chef for the main entree tomorrow.

I should be blogging about something more sacred on such a day, but instead I am working out my thoughts to the menu. And you know what? That's perfectly fitting! Tomorrow is one of the three most important Christian Feast days of the year. (The other two being Pascha and Theophany.)

This year, we have decided to be a bit different. Instead of the traditional ham, we are going a bit Victorian. No, I have quite worked myself up to goose yet. Instead, we are slow roasting a very fine cut of beef. Really slowly roasting for hours at what I think is a scandalously low temperature. But Bob has researched it well in his tome of recipes from America's Test Kitchen.

I have also had a request for figgy pudding. Now, I was thinking, "O.K...I can do this. I will just make a spice cake with some dried fruit in it." Nope. The request is for real, boiled figgy pudding like Mrs. Cratchit would have made. It will be an adventure. I have the figs and brandy. I don't have dates, but am going to use currants and dried apricots. That has to soak overnight.

Just in case the figgy pudding isn't all it is sung to be, a pecan pie and maybe some gingerbread are also going in the oven today. I also promised Miriam that I would make lemon curd. We love lemon curd, and it also makes a great hostess gift for any last minute parties one is invited to. If I am really brave, I might make some linzer cookies with lemon curd filling...maybe some with homemade raspberry jam filling too.

That just leaves the side dishes, which have almost become an afterthought. We are considering Yorkshire pudding. I think we shall have mashed potatoes, sauerkraut, and beets; all from our summer harvest. I probably should throw in some broccoli as well.

Well, I guess I better stop writing about it and get to work! This house needs some nice sweet, spicy smells to waft around it and add to the already too-much-to-bear excitement of Christmas Eve.

Finished!

Bubbe's Prayer Shawl

Well, I actually finished a knitting project! I only shared with a couple of friends that I was even doing this because I was so paranoid that I wouldn't finish. I had to start over about 5 times, but once I was in the groove, it went pretty quickly. I wanted something easy to make for my mother that would also be meaningful. I know that she already has a Tallit that her friends from the Messianic Jewish congregation that she attends gave her for her 80th birthday, but I wanted to make one that she could use just to put around her shoulders to keep warm as well.

The interesting thing about knitting a prayer shawl is that it reminded me to pray, especially in the beginning when I had to keep taking it out and starting over. In Orthodoxy, we have what is called the Jesus Prayer. It goes like this, "Lord Jesus Christ, have mercy on me a sinner." As I look back on my knitting, and the times I tried to pray that while I knitted, I thought about how our prayers are rather ragged and stumbling at first, too. It takes discipline and practice to get into the rhythm of calling on God throughout our life.

My knitting got to the point where I could, almost, do it without thinking. That is supposed to be the goal of prayer as well. That we get to the point where we are doing it as naturally as breathing. I am still in the stumbling around stage. Knitting the prayer shawl reminded me though that I need not stay there forever.