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Thursday, June 21, 2007
Tuesday, June 19, 2007
Church and Such
Believe in me,
'Cause I don't believe in anything,
And I want to be someone who believes.
Who believes.
~Counting Crows
Children. Everywhere.
I volunteered again this year to help out at my church's week-long summer camp. It's one of those experiences that when you are in the middle of it, holding one kid and wiping the nose of another, you make a breathy, quiet pact with yourself that goes something like this. "Self, don't ever do this again. OK?? I know you mean well, but remember this moment of complete bedlam, and when she asks you to help again next year. BE STRONG. OK? Are we good? OK."
Then something happens. By Friday, everybody finds a groove, a routine emerges. You look back on the week and remember their little faces during snack time peeking over the table and licking the icing off their cookie. Their gleeful smiles as you gave them wagon rides on a beach towel down the hallway. The adorable little things they say and do. Their little shy smiles when they see you, open up to the experience, or sing that song. The loud, abrasive exuberance reverberating through the room. Oh wait, that was Bee. The decibel level she reached even made the teenagers wince. Anyway, like most things in life, the kinks get worked out, everybody relaxes a bit, and I am weepy with sentiment on the last day.
The highlight of each day for me was when the whole camp would meet in the room with all the pews and sing songs with hand motions. Toddler Law states that they must love songs with hand motions, and no one loves them more than Bee. One morning early in the week, voices rising through the air, "Our Goooooood is an awesome Goooooood. He reeeeeeeigns from heaven aboooooooove!" Then, out of nowhere and into my visual frame comes Bee. She spaz dances across the front row, arms flaying, toddler sing/screeching, and rips one of the display posters off the music stand with triumphant joy. In front of everyone. Apparently she wanted to add a little punk rock to the revival. I think I heard her say, "Hello Cleveland!!!! Do you want to rock!!!"
Everybody stared at me, but it didn't make me feel any more squeamish than I already feel at church. The whole church thing is new to me. Well, kind of new. I have been attending an earthy little Lutheran church for three years, but given I spent the first thirty four years sleeping in on Sundays, it all still feels strange. And I mean a strange most people don't comprehend. My family didn't go to church (heathens!!) and honestly, I never really noticed. Consequently, I am blissfully free of Catholic guilt, Christian paranoia, or religious judgment. As Forest Gump said, "One less thing."
But, being raised heathen, I also had no spiritual guidance to take me through the tricky parts of life. Things like forgiveness, hope, peace, love, and I mean when all these things are difficult. My parents did their best, and they did an awesome job, but let's face it, we can't expect to get everything from our parents. Most people learn these things in some spiritual community. In America, that means Christianity.
Now, being raised heathen, those church people can definitely talk them some crazy sometimes. Resurrections, miracles, burning bushes. It all seems a tad over the top for someone who doesn't know their Judas from their priest. BUT, I like the parts about forgiveness, peace, hope, love, compassion, service, helping the weak, serving the poor, not being materialistic, accepting the seasons of life, etc, etc. It's 'big as the sky' humbling to delve into these things.
So, I walk the church tightrope, being hypervigilant against the whole 'judging others' thing. But honestly, there isn't much, if any, of that at my church. And I hope my kids get something that, frankly, is not my strong point -- how to be balanced, forgiving, peaceful, hopeful. If they want to continue when they are older, fine. If not, fine. That's not my motive here, and I love 'em no matter what they do. I just want to do my best with them, and get some guidance for myself along the way.
My secret hope is that they can explain it all to me some day. Hmm, faith and hope? Maybe I'm starting to get it.
: :
Some fun pics from this week:)
Road trip!
Love the round little shoulders -- sigh.
Summer glee!
Beer Thirty.
Shades of green.
Boxey's Buffet (Mmmm . . .cat food and strawberries:)
'Cause I don't believe in anything,
And I want to be someone who believes.
Who believes.
~Counting Crows
Children. Everywhere.
I volunteered again this year to help out at my church's week-long summer camp. It's one of those experiences that when you are in the middle of it, holding one kid and wiping the nose of another, you make a breathy, quiet pact with yourself that goes something like this. "Self, don't ever do this again. OK?? I know you mean well, but remember this moment of complete bedlam, and when she asks you to help again next year. BE STRONG. OK? Are we good? OK."
Then something happens. By Friday, everybody finds a groove, a routine emerges. You look back on the week and remember their little faces during snack time peeking over the table and licking the icing off their cookie. Their gleeful smiles as you gave them wagon rides on a beach towel down the hallway. The adorable little things they say and do. Their little shy smiles when they see you, open up to the experience, or sing that song. The loud, abrasive exuberance reverberating through the room. Oh wait, that was Bee. The decibel level she reached even made the teenagers wince. Anyway, like most things in life, the kinks get worked out, everybody relaxes a bit, and I am weepy with sentiment on the last day.
The highlight of each day for me was when the whole camp would meet in the room with all the pews and sing songs with hand motions. Toddler Law states that they must love songs with hand motions, and no one loves them more than Bee. One morning early in the week, voices rising through the air, "Our Goooooood is an awesome Goooooood. He reeeeeeeigns from heaven aboooooooove!" Then, out of nowhere and into my visual frame comes Bee. She spaz dances across the front row, arms flaying, toddler sing/screeching, and rips one of the display posters off the music stand with triumphant joy. In front of everyone. Apparently she wanted to add a little punk rock to the revival. I think I heard her say, "Hello Cleveland!!!! Do you want to rock!!!"
Everybody stared at me, but it didn't make me feel any more squeamish than I already feel at church. The whole church thing is new to me. Well, kind of new. I have been attending an earthy little Lutheran church for three years, but given I spent the first thirty four years sleeping in on Sundays, it all still feels strange. And I mean a strange most people don't comprehend. My family didn't go to church (heathens!!) and honestly, I never really noticed. Consequently, I am blissfully free of Catholic guilt, Christian paranoia, or religious judgment. As Forest Gump said, "One less thing."
But, being raised heathen, I also had no spiritual guidance to take me through the tricky parts of life. Things like forgiveness, hope, peace, love, and I mean when all these things are difficult. My parents did their best, and they did an awesome job, but let's face it, we can't expect to get everything from our parents. Most people learn these things in some spiritual community. In America, that means Christianity.
Now, being raised heathen, those church people can definitely talk them some crazy sometimes. Resurrections, miracles, burning bushes. It all seems a tad over the top for someone who doesn't know their Judas from their priest. BUT, I like the parts about forgiveness, peace, hope, love, compassion, service, helping the weak, serving the poor, not being materialistic, accepting the seasons of life, etc, etc. It's 'big as the sky' humbling to delve into these things.
So, I walk the church tightrope, being hypervigilant against the whole 'judging others' thing. But honestly, there isn't much, if any, of that at my church. And I hope my kids get something that, frankly, is not my strong point -- how to be balanced, forgiving, peaceful, hopeful. If they want to continue when they are older, fine. If not, fine. That's not my motive here, and I love 'em no matter what they do. I just want to do my best with them, and get some guidance for myself along the way.
My secret hope is that they can explain it all to me some day. Hmm, faith and hope? Maybe I'm starting to get it.
: :
Some fun pics from this week:)
Road trip!
Love the round little shoulders -- sigh.
Summer glee!
Beer Thirty.
Shades of green.
Boxey's Buffet (Mmmm . . .cat food and strawberries:)
Monday, June 18, 2007
BSM
What would you do for a Klondike Bar??
This was a quickie post, we are way off of our routine and just getting back in the swing today.
"Step back, kids! If the laundry pile falls, it will kill us all!!"
For more Best Monday Shots, go here. Then check it out again for Thursday's Theme -- Glee! Jump in and post your own . . . it's fun:)
: :
Anyblogy know why Blogger deleted all my Father's Day pics?!?!?!
This was a quickie post, we are way off of our routine and just getting back in the swing today.
"Step back, kids! If the laundry pile falls, it will kill us all!!"
For more Best Monday Shots, go here. Then check it out again for Thursday's Theme -- Glee! Jump in and post your own . . . it's fun:)
: :
Anyblogy know why Blogger deleted all my Father's Day pics?!?!?!
Saturday, June 16, 2007
Happy Father's Day!
For frogs, turtles, snakes, and the thrill of the hunt. For too much ice cream and nachos for breakfast. For dancing with us when you get home, and wanting to wake us up before you leave. For the zillions of trips to the rodeo, the zoo, and the pool. For starting our college savings fund instead of buying that sports car. For showing us what a real man is, so we don't grow up and hook up with a loser. Thanks, Daddy! You are our hero . . . every single day.
: :
And to my sweet daddy. Words could never express, but I try. For giving me a poet's soul with a strong will. For showing me the rewards of integrity and hard work. Then, the fun of spontaneity and decadence. It's nice to have someone out there who 'gets' me. I love you more than the sun and the moon . . .
Happy Father's Day!
: :
And to my sweet daddy. Words could never express, but I try. For giving me a poet's soul with a strong will. For showing me the rewards of integrity and hard work. Then, the fun of spontaneity and decadence. It's nice to have someone out there who 'gets' me. I love you more than the sun and the moon . . .
Happy Father's Day!
Sunday, June 10, 2007
BSM
There was something I really liked about the expression in this picture. Bee had just managed to take off the two jackets she was wearing (Yes, it's pushing 90 degrees here . . . She's two, she wears what she wants to wear!:)
There was lots of "No mine!!" when I tried to help her with the zipper, and she finally managed all by herself. This is her proud expression.
Here she is in early stages of heat stroke.
See more Best Shot Mondays at Picture This. Lots of fun stuff!
There was lots of "No mine!!" when I tried to help her with the zipper, and she finally managed all by herself. This is her proud expression.
Here she is in early stages of heat stroke.
See more Best Shot Mondays at Picture This. Lots of fun stuff!
Saturday, June 9, 2007
Sweet Dreams
I don't give a damn 'bout my bad reputation!
You're livin' in the past, it's a new generation!
~Joan Jett
Bee spent her first night in her 'big girl bed'!!!
Well, more of a 'big girl mattress.' The look on her face when she saw it all set up in her room said, "Yeah!! Rock on!!" After she broke it in with a complete spaz out, she laid down and slept her first full night in a long time. All a girl wants, aparently, is to be treated with a little respect. Cribs are so yesterday.
You're livin' in the past, it's a new generation!
~Joan Jett
Bee spent her first night in her 'big girl bed'!!!
Well, more of a 'big girl mattress.' The look on her face when she saw it all set up in her room said, "Yeah!! Rock on!!" After she broke it in with a complete spaz out, she laid down and slept her first full night in a long time. All a girl wants, aparently, is to be treated with a little respect. Cribs are so yesterday.
Friday, June 8, 2007
Rebel Yell!
I turn my camera on,
I cut my fingers on the way.
~Spoon
Yum.
Flowers. The most cooperative photo subjects ever.
"Please hold still while I take 58 shots of you with 23 different settings, monkeying with my camera between each picture. Thanks!"
Wow. What a fun camera! I shall terrorize my family this weekend, and hopefully get one or two of them that are post worthy.
I'm supposed to get one that 'tells a story' for my homework assignment. Hmmmm . . . These are my favorite kinds of pictures, but I'm a little stumped on having to take one for myself. Suggestions are (as usual) welcome.
Thanks for indulging me:)
I cut my fingers on the way.
~Spoon
Yum.
Flowers. The most cooperative photo subjects ever.
"Please hold still while I take 58 shots of you with 23 different settings, monkeying with my camera between each picture. Thanks!"
Wow. What a fun camera! I shall terrorize my family this weekend, and hopefully get one or two of them that are post worthy.
I'm supposed to get one that 'tells a story' for my homework assignment. Hmmmm . . . These are my favorite kinds of pictures, but I'm a little stumped on having to take one for myself. Suggestions are (as usual) welcome.
Thanks for indulging me:)
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