Clean Your Plate

A few years ago I was watching this special on TV that was talking about people who have been conditioned to "clean their plates", which apparently has contributed to obesity. They also touched on plates being bigger, and making it so that not only are we clearing our plates, but we are clearing our much larger plates.

I remember growing up that my parents would fix my plate, and I had to eat it. Period. I remember once being put to nap and missed out on snack because I didn't want to eat spinach from a can... or at all for that matter. It was green, limp and slimy... My opinion on it has changed as I have gotten older, I love it (and not just because I don't want to take a nap, I love those now too).

Another exciting transition growing up was, "If you want to make your plate, that is fine, but you have to eat everything you put on your plate" and my Dad's famous saying "So I guess your eyes were bigger than your stomach".

Now that I have children of my own, I am in a constant inner stuggle of "Finish your meal" and "Eat until your full". I do not do a lot of sweets with my kids, just because I never think of it, I crave them so far and few between that it is just not a part of my diet. However we do have popcorn often. And I have tried to use it as leverage before in getting them to eat a meal, and then also I wondered if it was hindering their meal because they didn't want to fill up on dinner so they could have popcorn.

When I make their plates, I keep in mind that they are small, and I do not put a lot on there. I feel it is important for them to finish it so they get all the nutrients they need, but on the other hand I don't want them to be "Stuffed", or to be conditioned to continue eating until visually they see there is no more food left. I want them to learn it is ok to push the plate away when they are full.... I just wonder what age you start teaching this... Is 3 and 5 too young?

I find that I am probably the strickt parent.... ok no probably about it, I'm the bad cop.

For Simplicity right?

Today I opened my computer, and a my browser sprang to life and right there in digital back and white was a story of the top 10 industries in decline (to see click HERE).

I was not surprised to see some of the ones that were listed, like video stores and news papers. Considering that we can get a hold of anything via the web, what is the need to have the copy of the local paper delivered to your front door step? Why go out and buy that new CD when you can download it? Same goes for that book on the best seller list.

It makes me envision lofty condos, streamlined furniture, bold color schemes... and the absence of bookshelves. I do find that I favor the simplicity of the photos that follow. However, it does make me think about what I grew up with, and how I remember the stories of change in my parents lives, even in my grandparents lives. I never thought that I would see any significant change in my life, because so much has changed from 40 or 50 years ago... how much more COULD change? (Even though I specifically remember when I was in second grade, my teacher asked us to picture

what the future would bring... all of us thought that we would be in flying cars by now...sheesh)

Well, apparently a lot could change. In the age that we are living in most everything is becoming digital. Photos, music, books, voices, instruments, you name it.

To me however, I really hope that some things stay the same. I want to hold a book in my hand, not hold a portable devices that is backlit, and so... sterile. I would really miss heading to the pool with my boyfriend on an afternoon that we have to ourselves to sit and relax and not have an actual paperback in my hand. Or having to figure out a way to burn all my music on a CD, or finding a way to upgrade my "outdated" car so that I can just plug in my MP3 player. I would miss having bookshelves full of movies for my kids to pick from.

In the movie Beauty and the Beast I remember the library in the Beast's mansion. I remember feeling how lucky Beauty was to be able to have that many books at her fingertips. I would be in heaven if I were to own a library like that. I do find that I differ from my best friend in how I can re-read, and re-watch the same thing several times. Yes, you can do that if you own a digital copy, but isn't there a pride of ownership that might be missing with everything being digital? Yes you "own" a digital copy of something on some device you also own... but it's not there to hold, turn over, read the insert, or the back cover.... you can not touch it.

Then in my path of thought, I think, what about love? Will that become digital? Will we all evolve into living like the people in Surrogates? Never letting our real selves be shown? Only showing the best of the best we have to offer? A copy of a copy? Reproduced multiple time, to be shared over and over?

Maybe I am just taking this a little too far. But having recently watched Wall-e, I wonder how long it will be until we are stuck in a disillusioned, coma-like state, just floating along unaware of what we really are missing.

For as long as I can, I plan to keep adding to my book shelve. And if your wondering, yes I still own a VHS player :)

Moving Day

Today is moving day. I have not taken much time to prepare. Tuesday I found out I had gotten the new place, and here it is Saturday. I have been working, and so when I got home I had not felt like packing much. And today has creeped up on me.

Here I sit on my porch wondering...What have I done? I have never viewed myself and some one who had a hard time with change, I am praised at work for being able to mold myself into whatever category they find necessary to place me in. I do find that I am a person who has moments of indecisiveness, but I didn't think that would translate over into something like moving.

I am moving into a place where the kids now can have their own space, somewhere a little newer, closer to work, somewhere I would feel comfortable having people over. Yet I look at this sunrise, I think of the back yard, my landlords, and I feel like I am moving away from home. In the entire time that I have lived here, this has never felt like "home", it has always felt like I was in a very long layover. I had not felt comfortable. But now as today has found me, I am racked with fear. Not a crippling fear, just one of "will the kids adjust", "will the neighbor above me have heavy feet", "will everything work out how I plan"... and that is where I stop myself and remember that I is not MY plan... it is HIS plan, and I am turning my life over to Him, and that He will provide for me when I see no other way.

I have found my relationship with the Lord again, not that it was ever gone, however it is stronger than before. I rest my worries in his hands, and listen to my heart. For the Lord knows me and my heart, and I should never be in fear.

Jeremiah 29:11-13
"For I know the plans I have for you,” says the Lord.
“They are plans for good and not for disaster, to give you a future and a hope. In those days when you pray, I will listen.
If you look for me wholeheartedly, you will find me."

A Thin Line

A Study has shown that there are parts of the bran that are activated when feeling hate, or love. Often I sit and I think "How can I both love and hate Sunday?" Of course it is not at the same time. One week I love it. One week I hate it. Two Sundays out of the month I sit on my couch enjoying the sweet silence lingering in the air, content with the bed time stories and prayers that have become part of the nightly ritual. Then, alternatively, two Sundays out of the month I sit bitterly annoyed with the silence surrounding me.

This is my Sunday of quiet regrets. Tonight is a familiar night, I am feeling the need to be hugged, kissed, snuggled, and asked for more juice. As much as I try to distract myself, it still finds me. Especially in that moment when I lay my head down, lights are off, tv is glowing the in back ground, and I find my self looking down towards their room. That heaviness in my heart, the revolving flash backs of memories of days that feel so very long ago. And then the worrying, the pondering, the second guessing, all of it a self designed way to beat myself up.

The Sundays that signify the ending of my week always go so, with the lack of a better word, shitty. All the plans seem to fall through, there is tension in the air, boundaries are tested, buttons are pressed. I probably make a mountain out of a mole hill when it comes to all of this, but its like all I can see is me sitting on this couch, up all all hours of the night, missing them. And I will, and I do, and here I am.

I have not always made the right choices, nor have I always done everything perfectly. I will never claim that I have. I wonder if I should have toughed it out. Done something on my own to change things, or even just to have changed myself, if it meant never knowing a day with out them. There is nothing that I wouldn't do for them, however changing the past is not possible. Trying to move forward, hold my head up, take in as many hugs and snuggles I can get, staying up late to eat pop corn and watch animated movies, playing tea party, crashing cars, hiding and seeking... baby steps.

One day I want to give my children the world, more often than not we as parents simple just send our kids out into the world for them to conquer it themselves. While I am trying to gather the world up into a nicely wrapped box with a bow, I hold tight to the truths that stand strong in our lives. The fact that they are loved, that I do miss them, and that they are missed when they are with me. I know that I am not alone in my feelings, every other week some one else is standing in my shoes. I thank God for the ability to want the best for them, and to be able to offer them all I have, and that they do have two parents who love them endlessly as well as unconditionally, even when we could not love ourselves.

Until next Sunday, I will be right here waiting. I love and miss you my sweet darlings.

Not For The Faint Of Heart

Lately we have been dealing with outbursts from Little Miss. It seems to have come out of nowhere, but then again she has always been... a spit fire. Days like these last few I feel like I should enter a safe haven for parents, it was meltdown city...

It all started yesterday with our trip to the roller rink. With it being cold outside (even though sunday it was quite nice out), we have been trying to find fun things to do indoors, while also getting some exercise. I figured this would be a fun thing for the kids to do, and fun for Jack and I to try and remember how to not fall on our butts. The first few steps, err skates, were tricky, wobbly, and I am sure if a picture would have been taken, priceless. After a while Noah got the hang of it pretty well for it being his first time. He and I made several laps around the rink with out falling. Lillian wanted to do it herself... in fact her wording was "Me do it myself!" She fell about a dozen times and had enough, she figured out it was easier for her to skate on the carpet around the outside of the rink, rather than on the wooden floor. She kept asking why she was falling, and I tried to explain that all people fall... "Why?"... "Because they do not know what they are doing at first"... "Why?"... "Because they have never done it before, and they are learning like you are"... "Why?"... You see where this was going.

It came time to leave, and for some one who really didn't want to skate, she sure threw a fit about leaving. "ME WANNA ICE SKATE MORE!" (Note to self: Bring kids ice skating) There are very few times where my kids are "Those kids", she was on her back doing only what I can describe as a lay down cartwheel spin kick, throw in some tears, a few kicks of the feet, some screaming, and tada... there you have it... a "those kids" situation.

And the first thing out of Jacks mouth... "Want some ice cream?". I fell over. I couldn't help but laugh. The tears dried up, she still refused to put on her shoes, I gave her a piggy back ride to the car, and we were off to get ice cream. I hate that she got ice cream after such a display, but she sure was cute eating her kids size twist. It reminded me of when I was young watching them eat ice cream, laughing and being the sweet silly kids I know them to be.... It was short lived.

We needed to get some groceries, so we headed to Wally world. I know in a kids mind going to a grocery store is the farthest thing from fun, besides the wide open space to run in, the clothing racks to hide in, the shiny new toys to cry for, touching everything on the isle, riding in the cart, under the cart, walking next to the cart, getting to carry things, put things in the basket... wait.. why are they not having fun?!

Some how genetically my daughter has inherited this ear piercing screech that is more high pitched than five house hold fire alarms, two car alarms, and one annoying alarm clock all mixed together. If she were to hold that scream I am pretty sure it would drop a grown man to his knees. And of course she tried to perfect her talent in the store. At this point I started to burry my face in my sweatshirt and walk just slightly ahead of Jack and the kids, and put on the "I do not know these people" face.

I had decided it was time for a big girl talk, and some consequences to start taking place. The three things she loves most in the world; Dora aka Doot Doot Doot Doot Da-Dora, Sleeping Beauty, and baby dolls. That night she lost the privilege to watch her show. The melt down started again. Code red, run for the hills, hide in your bomb shelter. She soon got over it, and occupied herself with her tea set. Then came bed time. Our new thing is for me to carry them into their bed holding them like a baby. So I carried Noah first, he was almost half asleep anyways, as I am putting him into bed, she is screaming. kicking. crying. "CARRY ME LIKE A BABY!"... I had planned on it, AFTER I tucked Noah in. At this point I just find it to be reaching a ridiculousness level that is beyond reasoning. We had a mommy daughter talk, I tried to keep it short and to the point to hold her short attention span, and to drive home the point of her behavior not being acceptable, and reenforcing that she is a good girl, and needed to start acting more like it. Stop with the "I dont wants"... which are more like "I not wanna"... and to do things when she is asked to, as in clean up her room, make her bed, put her shoes by the door... etc.

The clouds parted, I was making headway, she was getting what I was saying... or was she? The next morning, the tantrum rear its ugly head again. First about wanting me to put on her shoes while I am trying to make lunches, and check on my "Don't leave the house without" list. Once we worked past that, and the shoes were on(check), coat was on(check), lunch made(check), everyone ready to go(not check)... she wanted to bring her puzzle, which would have been fine, had it not been scattered all over the floor. No to the puzzle. Melt down. I'm not the only one to see a pattern here right? No. Meltdown. No. Meltdown. Sigh.

Somehow we made it out the door, and on to Nanny and Papa's house, where she and I seemed to have a glue bond, she refused to let go. Meltdown. I had to leave her there, like that, and go start my day at work. Lovely. Her Nanny let her cry it out on the couch in the back room, until she was ready to rejoin the group and be "nice girl". She kept on the up and up the rest of the day. Then Mommy came home. Long story short, she lost her Sleeping Beauty. The TV was still gone. We did manage to have a nice dinner, and cuddle on the couch where she fell asleep in my arms, looking sweet as ever. Lord I hope that tomorrow she is back to her normal self, or I may need some hair transplants.

It is hard to stay mad at those cute faces, but I have got to stand my ground and stay on top of this. As they say "This too shall pass". I am holding strong to that, and the will and strength to make it through the storm. Wish us luck!