crabs and tsunamis

When we arrived on the West Coast we spent our first night at a town called White Rock. We walked the beach and the long pier. Deborah and I were holding hands as we walked. She entertained and sought comfort for two fears: giant crabs and tsunamis.(Interesting how just a few years ago we didn't know anything about tsunamis.)

I assured Deborah that it was impossible for a powerful tsunami to hit White Rock because of all the surrounding islands. I told her about technology that would warn of something like that.

I thought I had effectively comforted her. We walked in silence for a while.

Later she broke the silence with, "Mom, way back there when you said it would be impossible for a tsunami to come while we are on the pier, were you just saying that to make me feel better or did you really mean it?"

Wasn't that an astute question for an 8 year old?

Moving Mountains

On our holiday we visited a major rock slide. Frank Slide. The slide happened a hundred years ago and still looks like it did back then. It buried the town called Frank. It's very fascinating.

I was reading some of the information about the slide to the kids. Among other things I read that the Natives never settled there because Turtle Mountain, the mountain the "slid", they referred to as the "mountain that moves." And they called it that long before the devastating rock slide.

Hours after reading to the kids and visiting Frank Slide we were in the throes of the Rocky Mountains. Mountains rose up on both sides of us. Deborah studied the mountains as we drove. Gently she asked, "Mom did the Natives ever say 'this mountain moves' about this mountain?"

songcatcher

I got a movie at the library that I thought looked interesting. Last night the girls and I settled down to watch how a musicologist became totally captivated by Appalachian Mountain Music. It seemed harmless enough, and somewhat educational too.

Interestingly enough, there were two lesbians in the movie and I was mildly horrified to have to explain a couple scenes to my girls. I couldn't find the remote so I was jumping in front of the tv -- looking like a totally crazed woman -- shouting "shut your eyes, shut your eyes."

My girls know a healthy amount of necessary sexual information for this stage in their lives, but I am not a bit comfortable letting them see a love scene of any kind during our movie watching.

When Gordon and I went to bed he asked what all the screaming was about while we were watching the movie. I told him about the scene that had me trying to block the girls viewing and of yelling at them to close their eyes.

He pondered a second or two then, attempting to ascertain why I lesbian scene was pertinent to the movie, he asked, "why did they do that?"

Totally missing his real question, I pondered a second and responded, "I guess they were horny."

a few birthday pictures

Beppe' and Deborah
A special 8 year old.

Deborah is 8

Her very first picture and one of my very favorites. To view any of these closer, just click on the picture.
Calgary Zoo. 2004. 5 years old.
Deborah and Hannah at one of our favorite summer spots. 2004.
A few months ago, just before leaving for Brownie camp.
Kindergarten graduation. She wasn't sure if it was proper to smile or not, so she remained very somber throughout the ceremony. Can you see her lip gloss? She snuck that to school that day.

Today is my baby daughter's 8th birthday. It feels unreal that once upon a time Deborah was not a part of our lives. Nor does it seem that 8 years ago today she lay on my chest for the first time. That day was filled with so many wonderful memories. It seems almost poetic that my 14-year-old Stephanie was the first of us to see Deborah draw her first sweet breath of life. Still behind the blue sheet that separated Deborah from us, Gordon and I missed that virgin intake of breath, but Stephanie took it all in with sacred joy and awe.

Now Stephanie is going to deliver her little Roman any day. I wish I could be there to see his first moments. Some day she'll be the mother writing his birthday story. So as I write this, my mind is divided among 3 precious lives: Deborah who is 8 today; Stephanie about to push a new life into our world and feel the mammoth changes in the way she perceives life; and little Roman who will soon draw his first breath. Thinking of those things, I feel sort of like I'm penning holy thoughts.

I remember so well seeing Stephanie standing behind the glass watching the c-section. Her eyes were wide, her face radiant, and wearing nursing scrubs for the first time. Another precious memory of that summer morning of 8 years ago.

Over the past few days, I've recalled many sweet memories in Deborah's 8 years. When she was barely one, we drove to Colorado to visit my sister's family. Deborah was a phenomenal baby traveller. I'd heard nightmarish stories of families taking trips with their children and how they screamed for hours and hours. Well we basked in pride over our parenting skills and how we had produced a baby who travelled so well. Surely, we thought, this good fortune had something to do with our terrific wisdom and advanced parenting abilities.

Our Deborah made it to Colorado with patience and long suffering. On the return trip she sat in her car seat seemingly content as we toured Yellowstone National Park and the Grand Tetons. We got in and out of the van, took pictures and enjoyed a couple tourist spots. Then suddenly, as we walked toward the van, it was as though someone flipped a switch on our sweet baby's back. When she saw our van that we were walking toward, she started flailing, screaming, kicking, and slamming her head on my chest. The hazel-eyed baby that had given me many reasons for parental pride, had morphed into a red-eyed, rage filled, screaming demon-ette.

Her cheery mood quickly spread to Rachael and Hannah and soon we had three little girls trying to break up their parents' marriage. Gordon and I had never experienced such outbursts among one child, much less three at the same time. We started screaming at each other trying to navigate this new dynamic of family life. Stephanie and Christopher looked on in shock at the way our family was falling apart with little warning. (After recovery, Stephanie said, "Wow, I'd never seen ya'll talk to each other like that").

Later when someone asked Christopher what the highlight of his trip was, he quickly responded, "When Mama give the girls Gravol in Yellowstone." Yes, I ended up doping my little angels.

When we finally unloaded our human/demon-ette occupants in our driveway, my girls returned to their previous disposition.

Roughly six months later, the girls and I flew back down to Colorado where we met all my family for Thanksgiving. Deborah won hearts as she'd go to the kitchen and look up at the strangers that were her aunts, uncles, and cousins and say "dink peez." So politely she used the few words she knew when asking for a drink of water. "Dink peez," she'd say softly. If no one responded, she'd say it a little louder. If still no one responded, she raised her eyebrows, stood on her tippy toes and more assertively said, "DINK PEEZ." In the end, she always got her water.

Deborah loved to be rocked, sang to, and cuddled. Once she asked me to sing "Amazing Grapes" as we rocked.

When she was 2, I started discouraging her nursing. She didn't nurse but a couple times a day, but she was pretty serious about it. Being two though, we did get to talk about it. I told her that we were going to rock and sing, but we were going to quit doing "breasties." She was thoroughly confused. They were all one and the same thing to her. But she soon comprehended the new way. She did well. However on about the third day, she asked if she could have "breasties." When I told her we were not doing that again, she put her index finger and thumb about 1/2 inch apart and asked, "Just a little bit peez?" My heart ached, but we stood firm.

Of the girls, she's the most girly. She loves to dress-up, play with little girl make-up, have make-overs, wear high heels. More than once we've arrived at church to find her in her little play high heels instead of real shoes. When she was four, she was in the washroom when church started. We were near the front when she entered. The pastor ceased the opening call to worship, went silent as he smiled at our little Deborah entering the sanctuary. All eyes fell on her as she walked determinedly down the aisle with her Fisher Price high heels on, a purse strapped over her shoulders, and a fresh application of lip gloss. When I realized things were silent because of Deborah's entrance, I was thoroughly pleased to see the sea of smiling faces as they watched her. She was oblivious to the attention she was commanding.

Deborah is a very kind person. She's gentle, considerate, and polite. She is a social butterfly, always ready for personal interaction. Right now she and her Daddy are out of a birthday date, having lunch together. In a few hours, Beppe will come over and we'll have yet another birthday meal. At her request, quiche is the main dish.

Dear God, I'm so very thankful that you let me be Deborah's mother. I'm thankful for the life you've given her, for the safety and health you've blessed her with. She has given us so much joy and I'm thankful. Thank you for loving her more than I am capable of. Thank you for loving her enough to give your Son for her. More than anything, I ask You to continue to draw Deborah to You. Give her a tender heart that always follows hard after You. Draw her into a life of being a student of Your word and a pray-er. Give her a hunger and thirst for righteousness. Equip her with all she needs to be a leader in doing what is right and standing against what is wrong. Help her to be a lover of the things You love. Thank You. Amen.

quiche

Hannah had a dentist appointment one day last week and we didn't leave it until 5:30. I stopped at Safeway to pick up something easy for supper, settling on a quiche from the deli. Later as we ate, I asked if anyone could remember why I quit making quiche. A few years ago I made it regularly, but I stopped and no one can remember why.

Deborah will be 8 tomorrow. Yesterday we celebrated nearly all day. Kalyna slept over, we went swimming and to Chuck E Cheese. It was wonderful.

I told Deborah on Thursday night that I wanted to have a special birthday dinner on Monday and invite Beppe'. She was happy about having 2 birthday celebrations. When I told her she got to choose the menu, her eyes got big and she said after only a second's hesitation that she wanted my quiche.

So tomorrow evening I'll be making quiche again and we'll sit around telling Deborah tales. It's going to be delightful, I know.

Data

Deborah knows a new word: Data. "Mom I know another word for information. Data," she told me a few days ago.

She'll be eight next week and on Saturday I'm taking her and Kalyna swimming and then Kalyna will sleep over. When Deborah wrote out the invitation, she included the word "data."

It went something like this: "Dear Kalyna, I am inviting you to go swimming with me on Saturday. We are going swimming and then out to eat and then you'll sleepover, and then we'll watch a movie, and then we'll go to church in the morning. Important data -- Saturday June 30 1:00 - 3:30 swimming."

I thought it was cute that she incorporated her new word, data, into her invitation.

Deborah and the ravens

I've been known to use the Bible as a weapon with my kids. When they've been disrespectful, mean, or unkind I've quoted from Proverbs. I heard long ago that we shouldn't use the Bible as punishment so I think I've stopped just short of that. But I've used it some to really put the fear in them.

A few weeks ago Deborah said something snitty and disrespectful. I asked her what the Bible had to say about how she had spoken. She got a disturbed look on her face and quietly said, "that God will send the ravens to pluck my eyes out." (That's an obscure verse, Proverbs 30:17, that no one ever talks about. Well no one but me.)

Terrible mothering, eh?

Allowance

Friday was my girls' allowance day. I was negligent and didn't get the money. The girls have daily been reminding me. Before Gordon went to work this morning he wrote "get allowances" on the message board.

Later I walked past it and saw an additional note had appeared. It was in Deborah's writing. In red she had written, "Due Date: TODAY" and drawn an arrow to Gordon's note.

I remembered to get allowance money.

A Good Friend

This is a little tale about someone I know who is a wonderful friend, a friend we would all be happy to have. Now just because she happens to be my child has no bearing on this tale whatsoever. Certainly mothers are biased, but I'm confident you'll agree that my little Deborah is a great friend.

Deborah has a new club. It's called the "Good Friends Club." Unfortunately the clubhouse is in my front yard - the unfortunate part being that it's in my front yard instead of my back yard. But I can live with it since she and her friends are having so much fun.

The club house is constructed of wood and cardboard. One neighbor boy has brought the masculine element to the club. He wrote "Keep Out" on it accompanied by a skull and cross-bones. The girls however put out the welcome mat, quite literally. There is a rug at the opening. They put down rugs (actually they're blankets) for the living room and there are 2 plastic chairs to sit in and visit. Yesterday I saw a comforter in the yard and asked what it was doing outside. They took a break from their sweeping the ground to tell me they were adding a bedroom to their clubhouse.

Every week at allowance time, Deborah takes her money to the dollar store to buy treats for the good friends club members. She takes it all very seriously. I take delight in seeing her playing so seriously and having much fun doing so.

This morning before school, the doorbell rang. Deborah got to the door first. It was one of her younger friends bringing a colored picture. Deborah didn't take it with the common simple "thank you." No, she said an exuberant thank you and told Nadia how much she loved it and how beautiful it was. I delighted in hearing her be so affirming of a younger child. I was blessed.

Deborah's best friend is Kalyna. She lives next door and they are two months apart in age. Since baby-hood they've been best friends. Kalyna's family consist of little people. Deborah's family consists of big people. They are just 2 months apart in age, they look a couple years apart. Deborah is a full head and shoulder taller than her best friend. Kalyna is about as petite as they come and Deborah is stout and hardy.

Kalyna has another friend named Megan. Deborah doesn't know Megan very well, so it seems to me that she would be jealous when Kalyna goes to Megan's. But she's not. She misses Kalyna while she's gone, but she never seems jealous.

A couple weekends ago Kalyna went to Megan's for a sleep-over. At supper that night Deborah thanked God that Kalyna got to go to Megan's house and asked Him to help them have a really good time together.

Now is it just me or is that a great friend?

Annoyed?

Last evening, Deborah was spinning around in circles in the living room. She wouldn't call it spinning in circles; she'd call it dancing. As she danced she sang a song, making it up as she went. (This particular song was about her liking cows. "The black and white ones, the brown ones and the white ones too.") Singing and spinning in circles in the living room is a common thing for Deborah.

As she spun and sang, Rachael was 3 feet away at the computer doing her homework. Rachael turned to me for homework assistance, "Mom, how do you spell annoying?"

Deborah stopped spinning and singing to rush to Rachael's side. Accusingly she demanded, "Are you writing about me?"

Shark

Today Rachael had cat food samples to deliver with her papers -- 2 cans per house to be exact. It was a sizable increase of work.

Deborah was up for the challenge and Rachael promptly hired her to assist. Deborah isn't the most work oriented child I've seen. Matter of fact, I praised her ridiculously much just to get her to complete the task. But admittedly, it was indeed a task for such a little one.

I sat in the van musing as I watched them. (Yes, I did a bit of help myself, but someone had to drive.) Deborah had on a sundress that I made for her last summer. She's grown a lot this year. As she struggled with her bag of cat food cans, I couldn't help but smile. Her dress is approaching mini-skirt length, her flip flops looked a bit floppier than they should, her skinny legs reminded me of toothpicks. It was hot and her hair was sweaty and sticking to her head. She has a bit of sunburn and her red face glowed with heat and beads of perspiration. She walked clumsily with her heavy bag of cat food. She was really quite cute to watch.

Rachael who is a wonderful paper delivery girl, would stop every so often to wait for her sister. At first she seemed annoyed with Deborah's speed, but before long it appeared as though she realized the burden her little sister was carrying. After a while Rachael was waiting for Deborah to catch up without the annoyed sighs and rolling eyes. She even suggested that Deborah sit in the van for a rest while she delivered both the cat food and papers.

I was proud.

Deborah is my youngest and watching her get so big is frequently sending me down memory lane. Watching her today, I kept thinking about Christopher and his little boy ways of years ago. What a wittle cutie he was.

He took a big fall when he was 3 and knocked out 3 teeth. That left a pretty big "blank spot" in his mouth for 4 years. He developed a unique mouth and lip movement to fill that empty spot. His lower lip seemed to pass through the gap with every word he spoke. Three of course is an odd number, so the lip went kind of to the side as it passed through the blank spot. It was an interesting lisp. (Lisp isn't an accurate description, but I can't think of one that's better.)

Along about this same time, he developed a shark fascination. He ordered shark every time we ate out. Thinking it was cute, I played along and whispered "chicken nuggets" to the waitress.

Watching Deborah and being reminded of Christopher, I sat in the van trying to move my jaw and lips to imitate the way Christopher said, "shark." I never was pleased with my imitation -- fortunately I don't have three teeth missing. But I enjoyed the mental pictures of Christopher saying "shark" that funny way he did so many times in so many restaurants.

Brownie Camp

 

My sweet little Deborah is away for the weekend. Yes, my socialite is at Brownie Camp. I miss her. She was so excited; she was packed a week ahead of departure and everyday she'd tell me how many days to go. Precious.

The above picture was snapped right before she left. In my mild melancholy of missing her, I looked through some photos. I found this one from a few years ago. I can't believe how my "baby" is growing. I bought her clothes recently and it was a bittersweet time realizing how big she is.
 

She comes home tomorrow. I can't wait to hear all about Brownie Camp and hold my little Brownie in my arms.

Chaos Continues

Our house renos are coming along, yet slower than I'd like. Lord willing, tonight we will move back into the living room. This ongoing chaos explains the absence of postings from me. Perhaps soon I'll show you pictures of my butterscotch and pumpkin colored living room.

We have moved back into our bedroom, yet all the finishing work isn't done. It looks good. I'm pleased.

Our refinished hardwood floors look spectacular. With that completed job, the parental anal retentive level has increased enormously. "Eekk, get those shoes off."

I know of people who live for years with reno projects in process. I'd admire their ability. I'm afraid I'd lose my mind.

In other news, shortly we'll pick Deborah up and take her to the dentist. The poor child is getting an appliance that will keep her from sucking her thumb. Yes, our little 7 year old still sucks her thumb. She says it's juicy and taste good. Alas, she's getting protruding teeth, so this habit needs to be attacked. This will bring the grand total of kids in this house with metal in their mouth to 3 out of 3. (I told Gordon he gave our kids bad genes because my other two have great teeth.)

That's it for now. Stay tuned for updates. :-)

Roodies

I've shared before how my kids use the word "roody" for a person who is rude. (Up to today I thought the spelling was rudy, but I've been corrected).

Two nights this week, Deborah's best friend has slept over. This morning this sign was hanging on her bedroom door:

NO
SISTERS
OR
ROODIES!
ASPECHELY
NO
ROODIES

Lent

Last night the girls and I (I being pretty critical here) tidied the house. It was less than pleasant as I had several things to do and wanted them done quickly so I could move on to more interesting things.

It was lovely weather and Deborah didn't want to leave her bicycle for 5 minutes to put away some of her earlier messes. She groaned and complained that I wanted to ruin her spring break by making her work all the time.

During this quick tidy session, Rachael came across my Sudoku book and asked why I hadn't been working on Sudoku puzzles. I told her I'd given up Sudoku for Lent. Deborah overheard this and asked what Lent is and what Sudoku had to do with it.

Rachael, being the eldest and wisest, gave Deborah a hasty run-down on Lent. After hearing that you give up or abstain from something for Lent, Deborah looked thoughtful for a moment or two and then said, "Well I think we should give up house-cleaning for Lent."

Deborah's Note to God

Deborah recently got caught in some lies. To compensate and try to earn leniency from her parents, she wrote this elaborate letter to God. I suppose she was trying to write a brilliantly theological note in hopes of escaping discipline. I'm not sure how sorry she was, but I thought her letter to God was pretty clever for such a young one.

Her letter didn't keep her from being disciplined.

Her letter reads:

My prayer to God and Jesus

Dear god i'm sorry for breaking 1 of the 10 commandmints. I no you died on the cross for my sins. And it breaks your heart for me to do it again. I pray that you will forgive. I pray my relashenship will grow closer to you and I pray for you to put your gardein angels around us and bless us all and Jesus name amen.

Then she drew a picture of a cross and two hearts and wrote "I love my Lord"

Deborah and Hannah - Wild Ones

I just found another note to myself from May 2004. Hannah would have been 7 and Deborah 5. My note read:

Hannah and Deborah are in the kitchen playing like they're wild animals. Deborah is a leopard and Hannah is a cheetah. Hannah is running around "marking her territory" and Deborah isn't impressed that her cage just got "marked". (Of course the marking was only imaginary, we aren't real animals, ya know).

I'm straining to hear their game, but I think Hannah just claimed the bedroom closet as her cage and she's letting out a lot of vicious growls that are returned with ferocious roars from Deborah, the leopard.

"I'm the winner. I marked my territory on you first," Deborah asserts. "Should we mate?," she asks.

"No," answers Hannah. "Cheetahs and leopards can't mate." But just in case she's wrong, she double checks. "Mooommmm, can cheetahs and leopards mate?" I don't know the answer, but all my ideas aside, I quickly answer no, as I don't want them simulating wild cats - or domestic cats for that matter - mating. It seems the only safe answer.

The cat-girls are arguing like real sisters now. Deborah, in sensitive fashion just whined, "But it hurts my feelings when you won't let me in your cage." Hannah responds, " Too bad. In the circus cheetahs and leopards don't share cages."

Deborah in Colorado

When my sister Stacie and her family lived in Colorado, my whole family met there for Thanksgiving. Deborah was 18 months old and it was her first time away from her daddy. She didn't have a huge vocabulary, but it was clear she missed him. She would say "Daddy? Daddy?" I knew she wondered where he was and could tell she was mildly troubled by his absence. It was kind of sad.

She obviously favored my nephew Jeff. She had a strange little system of getting him to hold her. Instead of walking directly to him and climbing into his lap, she would stand in front of him and back up against him thereby making it really clear that he was now supposed to pick her up. He'd pick her up and she'd sit there contentedly.

I noticed this happening several times and was curious about her methods and why she favored him so much above the other men. I looked around at all my relatives and realized that of all them, Jeff resembled her daddy the most. Now I'm not saying Gordon and Jeff look alike, I'm just saying that I think he was the closest thing to her daddy in that house and she was wanting her daddy.

I was very touched by her being so innocent, missing her daddy, and improvising.

Starbucks

Deborah and I had a date tonight. Everyone had somewhere to go to except Deborah, so away we went. In McDonald's she told me about her day at school. She played with Chloe the first recess, but the second recess she said she and her classmates huddled close to the building. "It was only -17, but it seemed much colder." She is a true Canadian.

Afterwards we went to the observatory to see the planets. She was indignant when they were all locked up but their open sign was up.

Our final stop was 7-11 so she could buy a treat. I parked right in the front door so I could watch her. She looked so big and so confident. I kept thinking she's growing up, my baby is growing up.

Back in the van, she asked if I wanted some Starbucks because that was what she'd bought. Starbucks candy was new to me, but I quickly ascertained that she'd bought chocolate covered coffee beans.

She handed me a red Starburst.