Giggles!

Baby Boy and Little Girl have completely different personality types.

Little Girl is emotional and expressive. She loves life and lets you know it! (The flip side, of course, is that when she's not happy... she lets you know that too! She can throw a tantrum with the best of them!) She's pure joy to be around (except during those occasional tantrums, of course), and anything you do with her is ten times more fun because she's there. Her smile lights up the room -- and she's almost always wearing one. She finds enjoyment in just about everything.

Baby Boy, on the other hand, is a very solemn little guy. He's very even-tempered -- it's tough to even get a smile out of him, and yet, the bright side is the absence of tantrums. If he's mad, all he does is put his head down in sad silence (while we all say, "Awwwwwwwwwwwww" and are quite inclined to give him whatever it was he wanted -- his method is definitely more effective than Little Girl's tears which get her nowhere!) He's hysterically funny, and yet although he can make everyone else laugh, he remains staid and sober.

It's become a challenge to us to get him to react to something -- a difficult one to meet. Little Girl is the only one that can get him smiling most of the time. The difference is clearest when going to an above-and-beyond the usual routine type of an activity.

Take, for instance, this summer, when we took the kids to an amusement park. Little Girl, both now and when she was Baby Boy's age, has the best time, and is all smiles and joy all day long. We took Baby Boy on his first ride, and waited with much anticipation, and cameras at the ready, for the smile of delight we were certain was to come.

Nope. Nothing. He just sat, expressionless and silent, until the ride came to a stop. Did not appear to be enjoying himself in the least. "Well, maybe he didn't like that ride," we thought. Then we began getting out, and he signs, "More, more."

We walked away from the ride, and he taps us and signs again, "More, more!" We get back on the ride, and again he sits as solemn as can be. Yet again, when the ride is over, he wants more, more, more. He did this all day, on every ride. It was very disappointing picture-wise as he doesn't appear to be having a bit of fun. And yet, he really was.

Well, Baby Boy's favorite thing in the entire world (besides Mommy, Daddy, and Grandpa) is the Wiggles. Or "Giggles" as he calls them. He would watch them morning, noon, and night if he were allowed. The first thing he does when entering someone's home is head straight to the television and say and sign, "Giggles! Giggles!" He knows every song and does all the motions and is absolutely adorable doing so. Still no smiles, of course. (And have I mentioned his camera aversion? We can't get video of him doing any of these songs because the second he sees a camera, he won't do a thing. He runs from still cameras, and freezes for video cameras. He is the hardest little guy to get a decent picture of!)

I can't stress enough how much the child loves the Wiggles. At the family reunion, when we were out by the campfire and it was cold, and smoky, and very late at night, and he wasn't allowed to get down and play because there was a dropoff behind the fire that he could very easily tumble over, he was getting much fussier than he ever gets. My guitar-playing cousin knew just how to solve it. "Fruit salad... yummy yummy..." he began strumming and singing. The fussiness was instantaneously cured. :)

And we were once at a Mexican restaurant, and pictured on the front of the menu were four men in colorful outfits holding guitars. He was convinced they were the Wiggles.

So recently Baby Boy received a special treat. He and Little Girl went to see the Wiggles Live in Concert! Now Little Girl has outgrown the Wiggles -- she was nearly as obsessed with them as Baby Boy when she was 2 but by 4 she had declared that she was too old for them -- but she was taken along anyway, figuring she'd have fun, and he'd be more likely not to be frightened and to have fun too if she were along.

And so they took their seats and waited, and he sat quietly and solemnly as always. And then the Big Red Car came driving out. And his eyes nearly bulged out of his head, his mouth dropped open in utter awe, he just sat there frozen... and then with HUGE SMILES of excitement, he bounced and exclaimed again and again, "GIGGLES!!! GIGGLES!!!"

At last!! Something exciting enough to make Baby Boy react!! Thank you, Wiggles!!!

He sat in rapt attention for twenty minutes, just marveling at the fact that he was right there in the room with the real live Wiggles. I imagine it was a lot like the way I felt the first time I ever visited a Laura Ingalls Wilder home. :) Indescribable.

Little Girl was dancing in the aisle and doing all the motions and with some encouragement, he was at last persuaded to join her.

If only video cameras had been allowed in the arena... the one and only time Baby Boy actually expressed excitement, and no videotaping was permitted. Sigh...

So... does anyone know how to hire a full-time Wiggle?

Friends

Little Girl is very social. She makes friends everywhere she goes. But even at the age of six, she's already experienced some friend troubles. Last year, in kindergarten, we occasionally heard the, "She's not my best friend anymore, now she's so and so's best friend" type of story, but didn't think too much about it. After all, that's what little girls do.

But this weekend, she said something that amazed me, both that it's occurring and that she has the insight to recognize what's occurring. You see, "Grandma" teaches at the same school that Little Girl attends, and Little Girl goes home with her. This means Little Girl is often there after school longer than the other kids.

Another little girl in her class is also a teacher's kid, and like Little Girl, is usually there after school hours.

Well, Grandma made a comment the other day about this child, McKenzie. She told my sister that Little Girl had said McKenzie isn't her friend anymore, but McKenzie is always in her room after school asking to play with Little Girl, so she doesn't know why Little Girl says that.

My sister was surprised, looked over at Little Girl, and said, "McKenzie's your friend, isn't she??"

Little Girl had been listening to the conversation but hadn't said a word until now. She explained, "McKenzie is my friend after school, but she's not my friend during school."

That's a loaded sentence. To explain exactly what she meant, after we clarified it ourselves, after school when all the other kids have gone home and there's nobody else to play with, McKenzie is perfectly happy to play with Little Girl, but during school when there are other girls to choose from, she's not so friendly...

I should have titled this post "Lessons from a Six Year Old" too. Because I must admit that I'm impressed with Little Girl's reaction to this situation. She recognizes the faultiness of the relationship and the not-so-nice quality of the other little girl, and yet treats her just the same and continues to play with her just as if McKenzie were always nice to her.

Those people are always out there... the people who are friends with you only when it's convenient for them, or who are friends with you because they want something and once they've got it they don't want your friendship anymore. I'm glad Little Girl has figured out the best response at such an early age -- hopefully she won't change in this quality as she grows. To recognize a friend isn't *really* a friend, but to continue to be a real friend to them... that is a beautiful thing. I'm proud of her. :)

Lessons from a Six Year Old

This morning, I went to church, filed into our family's usual row, and sat down. My sister's purse and Little Girl's Webkinz were already there on the pew, as well as a tithing envelope. I picked up the envelope and saw written across the front in Little Girl's handwriting, surrounded by hearts and a cross:

"I love everybuty."

Me too, Little Girl, me too... if only everyone in the world could be six again and have that mindset, what a happier place it would be.

Thoughts on the Election...

Let me just say that I think I'm beginning to understand to a small degree how Laura Ingalls Wilder and Rose Wilder Lane felt when Roosevelt was elected...

And on that note, I wish to post one of my very favorite Rose Wilder Lane quotations. She wrote this to her agent, George Bye, in January 1937, regarding her experience at a movie theatre which showed a Roosevelt newsreel, describing the audience as inattentive and restless, yet clapping politely at its conclusion. Then, she reports, the words "MICKEY MOUSE" flashed on the screen and the audience burst out in "a roar of deafening applause."

"Oh why? I cried in my embittered soul, O why didn't the Republicans nominate Mickey Mouse?"

My dear Rose, I wholeheartedly agree...

Mickey for President!!!! :)

Santa's List of Learning Toys for Toddlers

It's that time of year again -- the time when I begin to have conversations with parents about what to buy their kids for Christmas. As an early interventionist (speech therapist) working with kids under 3, I have very strong opinions about toys marketed as "educational" and I also have the benefit of seeing how large numbers of kids respond to particular toys, as opposed to a parent's perspective of just knowing how their child responds.

So, if you're the parent of a toddler and you're looking for great toy ideas for this Christmas, and especially if you're the parent of a toddler with speech or developmental delays, these are the toys that I have found in my practice to be the best-loved by nearly all little ones that I have worked with, as well as toys most effective for teaching new skills (especially speech and language). Just for the record, I have no affiliation with any of these companies. I know it's going to look like I'm a representative for Melissa and Doug, but really I'm not. I just really like these toys. :)

1. Puzzles. For the under 2 crowd, big wooden peg puzzles with 3-5 pieces (here's an example); for two-year-olds, peg puzzles with about 9 pieces (here's an example). Use these to develop vocabulary (by naming the pieces for your child as you give them each one), matching skills, and fine-motor skills (manipulating them into the puzzle). As a bonus tip, I keep each of my puzzles in a ziploc bag (1 gallon for smaller puzzles, 2 gallon for the jumbo ones) -- this prevents pieces from getting lost! And this is a favorite set for 2-3 year olds too, and you can teach shapes and colors as well as basic vocabulary with them.

2. Books. The type of book is important. Board books with simple pictures are great for babies and toddlers. Don't try to read them a story, just look at the books and name the pictures. Ask your little one to point to them when you name them ("Where's the dog?").

"That's great, but my child has absolutely no interest in books!" you're saying? I've found that most kids who won't look at books typically will be more interested in flap books. (Check out the other books in this set, and similar recommendations for lots of great options!)

3. Manipulative food toys. Kids LOVE these!! They look so simple, you'd think five minutes and they'd be bored, but no. Most kids I have would play with these toys for hours if you let them. Develop vocabulary by naming the foods and actions (cut, roll, etc.), fine motor, and creative pretend play. Here are my tried-and-true favorites: Melissa & Doug Cutting Food and Pizza Party! (This one has small pieces so make sure you supervise this at all times!) Also of note, these toys are particularly beloved by big brothers and sisters, as well, so don't consider it just a toy for 2 year olds. Kids up to 8 or 9 years old love these just as much! Oh, and if you just happen to have a puppet with a hole in its mouth, let the kids cut up the food and feed it to the puppet -- they LOVE that!

4. Lacing beads. These are my favorite. I use them to teach colors, counting, and also develop fine motor. Preschoolers like these a lot too. (Here's a tip: Wrap Scotch tape around one end of each string for the first couple of inches, and tie a knot at the other end. This will make the end your child has to insert in the hole straight and stiff and a lot easier to thread -- then when your child becomes an expert, you can remove the tape and give them the challenge of threading it without the tape. And the knot obviously will keep the beads on the string!)

5. Fisher Price farm. Not the one they sell in the stores. The old barn. You know, the one they sold for about forty years -- the one you grew up with! Check ebay, they always have lots of them, and you can put together a nice set for your child. Again, preschool and elementary age kids love this too. Children love the moving parts of the more realistic looking animals, the ability to completely conceal by opening and shutting the doors, and you can teach a lot of pretend play, as well as vocabulary through this toy. (Animals can eat and drink from the trough, ride in the tractor or wagon, be fenced in or jump over the fence, be put to sleep, etc.)

6. Pound and Roll. An all-time favorite. Never met a kid yet that didn't love this. This is another toy that older brothers and sisters (especially preschoolers) fight to get to play with. Again, great for colors and motor skills.

7. Mr. Potato Head. Need I say more? Body parts and those fine motor skills again. It's not that I'm always working on fine motor, although that's a nice perk. It's that little kids like things they can do with their hands. So all the favorite toys involve fine motor. Another one for the older siblings to enjoy, and the more different pieces you get for him, the more fun it can be!

8. Cariboo. I love this game for my kids that are getting closer to 3 and old enough to begin to understand how to play games. Great for preschoolers too. Kids LOVE this game. Beginner level teaches colors, shapes, and counting, Advanced level works on letters and numbers. And for speech therapy, I adapt it and you can too -- I print out pictures that are the same size as the "doors" on the game of whatever words I need a child to practice, and instead of using the cards, I just let the child pick the door he wants to open. He says the word, he gets to open the door. It's a wonderful motivator!


You might notice that among all of my recommendations, there isn't a single toy that needs batteries or makes sounds. There's a reason for that. I have seen so many parents go out and buy all these electronic toys that are touted as educational, and they are, in my opinion, such a waste of money. The noises are merely distracting -- kids learn to talk by hearing real people talk. Not tv people. Not toys. Mom and Dad. Grandma and Grandpa. Brothers and sisters and cousins. If you want your child to learn to talk, talk to him. Constantly. Name everything. Describe everything. Use simple words and short phrases, and repeat them again and again. No toy is going to teach your child to talk. The toys I've recommended, however, can be used by you to help YOU teach your child to talk.

Happy shopping! :)

This post was written for Works-for-Me Wednesday at Rocks in My Dryer.

I Bought a Cow

I never thought I would say those words. You see, I dream of living on a farm... but my dream farm has no crops and no animals. ;)

I'm not an animal person. Cute small fuzzy animals are okay, although as of right now, I have not chosen to invite even the most darling little kitten into my home. (But boy, those Holland lop bunnies are enticing, and I may give in yet.) But anything larger than a cat is simply not for me.

So why, you may ask, did I buy a COW?

First, let me show you the cow:

I bought the cow not for me, but for Rebecca, my sponsored child in Uganda. (She's the smaller of the two girls shown.) She is the dearest little thing, by the way... her letters are so sweet.

For Rebecca's family, the cow means milk, not only for Rebecca and her siblings to drink, but to sell. For a family that only makes a dollar a day, when they can find work at all, a cow means more money than they've ever had. Not a lot of money still, but more than they have now.

What astounds me most is when I take into account the price of the cow, and Rebecca's family income. They would never, ever, have been able to purchase a cow. It costs more money than they earn just to keep their family fed. They have no opportunity to make their lives better, because it takes money to make money.

And yet, the money I sent for this cow equates to the amount I'm paid for an hour and a half of work.

Yes, that's an hour and a half of sitting on the floor with a two-year-old and teaching them how to play with toys, how to say sounds or words, how to match pictures or sort colors. Some sacrifice, eh? Such a little bit on my end becomes so much on theirs. It sort of reminds me of Jesus with the little boy's lunch, feeding thousands of people. Such a small gift, but it went so far.

This cow is the perfect example of what I love best about Compassion. I get to see the impact my dollars have. I see how they're spent, and what difference is made. I have given to other ministries that do similar things, and I have nothing bad to say about any of those ministries nor do I discourage supporting them in any way, they too are making differences like these. But I sent off my check and hoped it made a difference in someone's life and never really knew what happened as a result. With Compassion, I know. I know whose life it impacts, and I see the long-term results, as I get to keep Rebecca for another 15 years or so.

You can't change the world -- but you can change the world for one child.

I sponsored Rebecca as part of the Compassion Bloggers' trip to Uganda in February. I'm thrilled to announce that tomorrow, a new group of Compassion Bloggers is going to the Dominican Republic. I encourage you to follow their trip, and to pray to see if God is leading you to sponsor a child through Compassion. Click "Compassion" in the list of labels in the sidebar to read my other posts about my Compassion kids.

And while you're at it... sponsor a child. ;)

Trick or Treat!

I'm not sure how old I was, but my earliest trick-or-treating memory is of walking up our driveway between my parents, my little hands in theirs, and singing Halloween songs.

Halloween songs, you ask? Yes. My father taught me one; my mother taught me another. I have never heard them anywhere else and don't even know where they learned them, but I have to sing them every Halloween. I have to.

My father's was a fun one.

We are jack-o-lanterns. Boo! Boo! Boo!
We are out to get you! Boo! Boo! Boo!
We have teeth but cannot bite,
In our heads a shining light,
Don't you think we're funny? Hee-hee-hee-hee-hee-hee-heeeeee! Boo! Boo! Boo!

My mother's was:

Jack-o-lantern, jack-o-lantern, you are such a funny sight,
As you sit there in the window looking out at the night.
You were once a yellow pumpkin hanging on a sturdy vine,
But now you're a jack-o-lantern, see your candlelight shine.

Anyone know them?

Our trick-or-treating when I was younger was probably a lot different from most. We lived out in the country, so neighborhood trick-or-treating wasn't an option. We also only went to the homes of people we knew personally. So we walked around the "neighborhood" to four or five houses. We were the only trick-or-treaters that came out that far, so each of the neighbors had a special treat bag made up for us, full of goodies.

Then we came home and my dad took us for driving-trick-or-treat. We went to my grandparents' house, the homes of aunts and uncles, and a few friends from church who lived near them or on the way, also my dad's boss.

So trick-or-treating became a time to briefly visit with friends and family rather than a time to go traipsing from street to street and house to house.

We almost never got trick-or-treaters at our house, so the actual "treating" part of trick-or-treat was not something I ever experienced. Once we were too old for trick-or-treating, it was a pretty noneventful night at our house.

And then I moved to my first house, out on my own. And wow, was trick-or-treat ever different there! I was fortunately forewarned by a neighbor, otherwise I would have been completely unprepared on Halloween night. The entire town came to OUR street to trick-or-treat, everyone sat out by the street, and they just came by in streams. It was unbelievable, from start to finish, I did nothing but reach in bags and hand out candy. We easily got 300 trick or treaters in an hour.

And now I have another experience, but this one is stranger than either of those. Now I'm living in a nice little subdivision-style neighborhood... but I hardly get any trick-or-treaters. I got six tonight. In two hours. It's not that the trick-or-treaters aren't out there; it's just that they are lazy!! Seriously! I can't tell you how many times I looked out the window to see groups of children walking right on by. The light is on, so it's clear I'm giving out candy, but they are too lazy to walk up my semi-steep driveway. (It really isn't all that steep. A medium grade perhaps, and only the length of two cars.) Kids are lazy, I tell you!! Oh, well. The six who braved my driveway got all the candy. Happy Halloween! :)

I'm not the only one, I know. I spent the entire trick-or-treat time on the phone with a friend who only got three at her house.

Little Girl dressed as Alice in Wonderland this year. My grandmother made her the dress for the Wonderland Tea she attended at Disney World this past winter, and she was so gorgeous in it, it had to be worn again. Baby Boy was Mickey Mouse. (Who says we're Disneyites!? ;) )

What about you? How was trick-or-treating at your house this year? Who did your kids dress as?

The Family Reunion

I was asked by a friend who was looking at pictures and video of my family reunion if our family was always "close and smiley and laughing"?

My answer was yes. I've come to realize in working with so many different families that our family really is somewhat unique in this regard. Being together with the entire family is not hard in any way. It is easy. It is fun. We laugh and joke and have a great time. When there is "arguing" over sports or politics, it's all in fun, and everyone knows it, so even then, it's still fun.

Our family has always been close. My grandparents had four children; three of their children (including my mother) remained in the same town. We all went to the same church, we kids all went to the same school. After school, we were all at my grandparents', and on Sundays after church, the whole family was there. So we spent a lot of time together during our growing-up years, and I think that my grandfather's focus on always treating each of us fairly and equally (he wouldn't even take one child's family out to eat without giving money to each of the other families so their family could go out to eat too!) and my grandmother's peacemaking nature that was intolerant of any arguing or dissension is what created this wonderful family.

So... we all spent the weekend in the mountains, and it was an extra special occasion because for the first time, my grandmother, and every single one of her children, grandchildren, and great-grandchildren, were present. (One spouse was unable to attend, other than that the entire family would have been complete.) We get together, almost the whole family, at least two or three times a year, but there are always a couple of people that aren't able to be there for various reasons -- but this time, we all made it!

We stayed at the same ranch that we stayed at last year, but this year we just happened to pick the same weekend that the ranch later chose for a whole host of special activities. Which they let us do for free. (There was a $25 concert and a $10 activity fee per person, and they didn't charge us a cent! And there were 28 of us... so that's a LOT of money!)

I was one of the last to arrive, as I didn't take the day off as many did, and I was surprised to see a hot air balloon out in the field in front of the cabins as I drove in. I went into the main cabin where we always gathered, and learned that everyone (except the scaredy cats) had already gone up in said balloon, including Little Girl, who wasn't at all afraid, which surprised me. So a cousin and my sister-in-law volunteered to come with me to go for my own ride.

I've never ridden in a hot air balloon before, and I honestly thought it would be a little frightening. I'm not terribly afraid of heights, but I thought that the basket would wobble and tip and feel unsteady and that, at such a height, would be a little frightening, but I was wrong. It was solid and stable as could be, and I have to admit it was actually a little disappointing as a result. After all, there's some fun in being safely scared...

I couldn't decide whether I wanted to pretend to be the Wizard of Oz, or Carrie Ingalls in the Little House on the Prairie episode where she's in the runaway hot air balloon. :)

After that, we built a big bonfire and sat around singing songs, my cousin accompanying us on the guitar. He had us do one song where we sang, "Hello, my name is ____ and I want to be a..." and we had to fill in an animal that began with the same letter as our name, and then act it out. The kids loved it, especially seeing the adults all being silly enough to act like various animals. :)

We had several cabins rented, and my immediate family had one. Unfortunately, when we rented these cabins, we got a three bedroom because we thought my brother and family would be living in Florida and unable to attend. When we got the good news that they were staying, it was too late, there were no four bedroom cabins left. So there were a whole bunch of us, and only 3 full sized beds. And a couch. And I brought an air mattress. As it turned out, Little Girl and I ended up sleeping on the air mattress on the living room floor, and let me tell you, it was COLD. Neither of us hardly slept all night for shivering, despite warm pjs and blankets.

Everyone sleeping upstairs came down the next morning complaining about how hot they were all night. Sigh. So my brother and sister-in-law decided to trade and take the air mattress the next night. Little Girl and I were definitely not afraid of being too hot at that point.

That night of coldness set off an entire day of never feeling warm enough. It was a sudden weather change as it was, we had had nice warm fall weather all along, and suddenly the temperature had dropped about 30 degrees, and not being used to it, we felt the cold more. Also, nobody brought coats as we were totally unprepared for such chilliness.

So, the next morning, we all headed to the big house for breakfast, then various groups made their decisions about how to spend the day. A bunch of the guys went golfing. Another large group decided to go to a local festival. I bowed out of that one, crowds and cold combined were not at all appealing to me. So four of the great grandkids, all little girls ranging from 6 to 11, and about 4 adults and I stayed behind. I took the two littlest girls, one being Little Girl, to the playground and zoo housed on our ranch.

It was definitely the right choice. We had a wonderful morning. The man who took care of the animals was there feeding them, and when he brought out the camel, he let the girls feed and pet it. Then he told them he had two baby camels in the barn and he would bring them out for them to see. They were SO CUTE. And watching those two little girls chasing those two baby camels down the road was also so cute. :) They spent a good deal of time petting and feeding them, and they were very social little camels and loved the attention.

After a couple hours, we decided we were tired of being cold and we went back to the cabin, where the kids played and the adults relaxed, as we waited for the rest of the crew to come back.

One of my cousins and his wife had gone hiking, way out in the wilderness far away from any houses, and a cat had found them and followed them the entire way back to the car. It was very friendly and loving, but all matted and dirty. They decided it must have been a pet but was either extremely lost or abandoned, and they couldn't just leave it out there on its own when it didn't appear equipped to live in the wild, so they brought it back with them, and another cousin was thrilled to adopt it. Once they cleaned it up and cut out the mats in the fur, it looked like a very nice cat, and it was extremely friendly with everyone. So we welcomed Kirby the Cat as the newest member of the family. :)

When the folks came back from the event, they only had one funny story to tell us. It seems they lost my uncle. They had split into two groups, and one group called the other to ask if he was with them, because they couldn't find him anywhere. My mother was the one who answered the phone. Apparently she told her group that my uncle was lost, and she supposed they'd better help look for him... but let's go eat first. LOL.

What had happened was, my uncle who is getting up there in years and has a bad hip due to an accident years ago anyway, was worn out from the day's events, and he told my cousins to go on back to the car and come pick him up, as they had come quite some distance. They did as instructed, but apparently drove right by him, while he stood there by the side of the road waving his arms at them.

They did eventually find him, and all made it safely back to the ranch, where they found my cousin and I out with the four little girls, participating in all the fun activities on the ranch. There were pumpkins -- the "big kids" (including two adult cousins) carved them, and the little kids painted them. The girls also painted Halloween masks. There were some inflatables there, including a giant wall to climb. All the girls tried, but none of them made it up very far. :) They bobbed for apples. And there was popcorn and cotton candy.

After all this fall fun, we walked back to the main cabin, where we had a cookout while the little girls splashed in the hot tub that they apparently thought was a swimming pool, while my cousin wrote a song and taught it to them -- yes, he wrote a song right there on the porch with four little girls splashing in the hot tub around him, the lad is talented -- and then we all gathered around for memory time. We had all been instructed to write memories of my grandmother, and my aunt read each one and we had to guess who had written it. Many were obvious from the way they were written, of course, but a few were harder to guess. There were many sweet memories shared, but many funny ones too, and we spent a good couple of hours doing this, and it was so much fun.

Then we had another bonfire, and more singing. This time my cousin changed up the name song. We had to sing, "Hello, my name is ____, and I'm sitting next to ____. And he/she is very..." and then fill in a compliment about that person. It was a great game, and it turned out to have its funny moments too. :) For example, when the lost uncle just happened to be sitting next to the cousin who was responsible for losing him, and his compliment was, "Well, he was nice enough to drive me to the event today... even though he did drive right past me and leave me standing by the side of the road, and he drives like a turrible knucklehead!" ;)

And then there was the moment that my aunt received the compliment of being brilliant from the person next to her, and then on her turn, my cousin sang, "Hello my name is..." and everyone waited as she just sat there. And he prompted again, "My name is???" and another aunt chimed in, "She's so brilliant she doesn't even know her own name!" :)

And the moment when my aunt, complimenting the cousin doing all the singing, said, "He's really good for a good time!" and instantly, my cousin jerks his head up and says, "Who've YOU been talkin' to!?!?" ;)

After more songs and more stories around the campfire, we finally called it a night and turned in. My sister insisted that Little Girl and I would be sorry for trading beds, that we would be way too hot, that we'd be kicking all the covers off. We were perfectly comfortable, although Little Girl certainly tosses and turns a lot and at one point in the night I was awakened by a little leg flopping across my stomach. The next morning, I observed that we were both still under blankets, and I asked her if she had been too hot. "I was hot under my covers," she said. "But one leg was cold because it was sticking out of the covers."

"Would that be the leg I discovered lying across my stomach in the middle of the night?" I queried. :)

We all had breakfast together again and then it was time to part and head in various directions for our homes.

It was a great weekend, and I just have to say that I'm glad God put me in the family that He did. Because we've got the best one ever. :)

Homesick

I'm almost hesitant to post this as I fear that my words will be misunderstood, but I'm going to say it anyhow.

A dear friend of mine has been responsible for the care of an elderly relative, and all last week, sat by her deathbed until at last this weekend she slipped away. Walking with her through this time has taken me back two and a half years, to a time when I myself sat beside my grandfather's bed as he lay dying. That experience was one I could never put into words, and I'm sure anyone who has been there knows just what I mean.

However, I hadn't thought too much about one of the feelings that marked that time in my life until those same feelings came surging to the forefront of my mind again with this recent death.

When my grandfather died, I felt many things. Shock, even though his death was expected, because somewhere in the deep recesses of my mind, I realized that I subconsciously believed he would live forever. (Of course, he will... but that's not how I meant it.) Grief, knowing that never again would I see him, talk to him, laugh with him, share old memories with him, or make new memories. Relief, because he had entered the last stage of Alzheimer's and for him to continue to live in that state would have been so hard on everyone, himself included.

But above all those other feelings rose the feeling of jealousy. I knew where he was going, and I longed to go with him.

This is where I fear that my words may be misinterpreted. I am not suicidal. Not depressed. When I say I long to go, I am not saying, "Oh, life is so miserable, I just want to die." I don't want to escape anything in this life, I'm not looking for an out.

I've been in that place, I will confess. For years, I suffered from depression and anxiety, and I did long for death as a means of escape. I don't think I could ever have been called suicidal, because I knew that no matter how much I wanted to, I could never bring myself to actually harm myself in any way, but there is no question that if I could have, I would have. Those were dark times, and I say this only to explain how very different that kind of "I want to die" statement is from what I'm saying now.

I'm very happy. Life is good, and I enjoy living to the fullest. In fact, I haven't even thought about these feelings I had at my grandfather's death for quite some time. Until this weekend.

When my friend and I were talking, shortly after the death, one thing she said was, "She WANTED to go..." (She was very elderly, and suffering.) And instantly those feelings of jealousy came surging up within me from a place so deep I'd forgotten its existence. "I want to go!" I thought. I want to go not because I'm miserable, not because I'm suffering, not because I no longer want to live -- I want to go because I know that what I'd be going to is so much better than where I am now.

And then it occurred to me that I'm in a very similar situation that I think is much more easily understood by others. I'm currently living in a town I don't want to live in. And the situation is so much the same. I'm actually quite happy here. I have a beautiful house in a lovely neighborhood. I love my church and really feel as if I belong there. My Bible Study group is full of wonderful ladies that I've bonded with. I truly enjoy my job, and the children and families I get to work with. I have good relationships with my coworkers and that makes teamwork so much easier when it comes to meeting the children's needs. I've developed friendships and social circles here that I will miss if/when I move away. The fact is, I've put down some roots here, and I really like it here quite a lot. If my house doesn't sell, and I end up staying awhile, it's not that big of a deal -- I do want to move, but I'm also happy where I'm at.

So if life here is so great, why do you want to move? I'm sure you're asking...

The answer is simple. Because I'm homesick. The one thing that I don't have in this town is family. In a town three hours away, I have a grandmother. I have a niece and a nephew that I love beyond words. I have parents, siblings, and aunts, uncles, and cousins galore. And I feel stranded up here away from them all. And that is the one and only reason I want to move. I'm homesick.

So then is it really difficult to understand my other yearnings, my jealousy of those who go on to the life ahead of us while I'm left here on earth for I have no idea how many more years? It's not that things are bad here in life. It's simply that I'm homesick. I know that this world is not my home, my heart lives in heaven, and that is why I long to go there.

Yet when I say such things, people gasp in horror or in shock, or they chide me for saying such awful things, or they think I'm depressed. Why is that? Why is it so easy for people to understand that I am very happy here in my current town and yet I want to go "home" to the other town because my family is there and it's where I belong, and so difficult to understand that I am very happy here in my current life on earth and yet I want to go "home" to my other life where I really belong?

Does anyone understand? Feel the same way? I'm really not depressed. I'm probably happier and more content than I've ever been at any other point previously in my life. Is it wrong to yearn for the better life I know is waiting, as long as I also am willing to wait patiently, though longingly, for the time God has chosen for me to enter it?

Thoughts?

Happy October

October is my favorite month. Has been since childhood.

I love the crispness of the air -- not cold, just cool. I love the fragrance of autumn leaves. And the colors... I live in the mountains, and while all seasons have their beauty, fall far surpasses them all.

When I was in the eighth grade, we read The Vagabond's Song, by Bliss Carman. It resonated deeply with me, and I memorized it at once, and said it often as I enjoyed the wonders of nature that autumn brings.

There is something in the autumn that is native to my blood—
Touch of manner, hint of mood;
And my heart is like a rhyme,
With the yellow and the purple and the crimson keeping time.
The scarlet of the maples can shake me like a cry
Of bugles going by.
And my lonely spirit thrills
To see the frosty asters like a smoke upon the hills.
There is something in October sets the gypsy blood astir;
We must rise and follow her,
When from every hill of flame
She calls and calls each vagabond by name.

So I'm glad it's October. The weather apparently noticed the calendar change. My heater fired up for the first time this season overnight, and today I've exchanged my short sleeves for fleece.

Happy Fall, Y'all!