In an attempt to put a stop to Noah and Riley arguing, I invited them to help me make sugar cookies. Success! They stopped arguing over trivial things and were completely, 100% engaged in the cookie making process. Fortunately, they did not want the same cookie cutter, because that would have been problematic. Noah was the gingerbread cut-out and Riley was the star.

“Mommy’s job is to flatten the dough. Once I flatten the dough, you can cut your cookie with the cookie cutter.”  I only wish I didn’t have to flatten the dough with the palm of my hand and a glass cup. My mother probably has three rolling pins, and I have zilch when it comes to rolling pins. Oh well, nobody here seems to care that the cookie making process is more laborious than it needs to be.

“Now, Mom?” questioned Riley.

“Not yet,” I respond.

“Now?”

“Go for it, the dough is ready.”

Clean little hands went to work cutting cookies in the shape of stars and gingerbread. The assembly-line process worked pretty well. They cut the cookies and I was in charge of placing each cut-out on the cookie tray.

“Oh man, my gingerbread doesn't have an arm.” Commented Noah. When the cookies started to lose limbs, it was my turn to flatten more dough.

“That’s it. Now it is my turn to deal with the dough again.” I began the laborious dough flattening process all over again and the kids hovered. They were watching and waiting for the moment they could use their cookie cutters again.

“Now, Mom?” they both asked.

“Go for it. Now it is your turn.” I said. The cookie cutting process went on like this all night. We made a mess in the kitchen. The kids laughed and giggled with each other. Dean was mesmerized by the kids and how good they were at making cut-out cookies. The only thing I would change is to use a rolling pin next time to flatten the dough. Maybe I can sneak one of my mom’s rolling pins in my suitcase next time I visit.

Decorating the tree is a family tradition. Without the effort of our Leisgang team, the tree decorating would be a disaster.

Dean hauls the plastic tubs of Christmas decorations upstairs, from the depths of the basement. He also drags the “fake” Christmas trees upstairs; however it is my job to put them together. Our pre-lit tree is a puzzle because the strands of lights on the tree have to be plugged together, properly; allowing the tree to light up. The puzzle is the connection of the plugs. The company that made the tree labeled the plugs A, B and C. So, one would think A plugs into A, B plugs into B, and C plugs into C. Unfortunately, that is not the case. I thought I was smart a few years back and labeled the plugs, with silver Sharpie ink. In my perfect world, the silver Sharpie plug number 1 connects with the other number 1 plug. Then, plug 2 connects with plug 2, and so on. Sadly, my world is not perfect. This year I could not figure out how to make the tree light up, period. Alas, I broke down and weaved a green extension cord up the trunk of the tree. All the A’s, B’s, C’s and 1, 2, 3’s are plugged into the green extension cord. Magically, the tree lit up.

Moving on to the decorating portion of our family tradition involves tons of help from Noah and Riley. Noah and Riley are in charge of decorating the tree. They even had stools placed in front of the tree this year so that could place ornaments closer to the top of the tree. Noah had a plan to place all the theme ornaments near each other. So, if you wander over to our house and notice all the jingle bell ornaments clumped together, you will know why. Riley worked hard to fill in the empty spaces on the Christmas tree. My job is to un-clump the ornaments, so they are spread throughout the entire tree. But, I must be very sneaky when relocating ornaments, otherwise the kids will get upset with me for moving their carefully  placed ornament. Dean is in charge of unpacking ornaments from boxes, placing hooks on them for hanging and reminiscing about the history of each ornament. He has a great memory for who we received ornaments from, why we received them and the sentimental value attached to each ornament.

Last but not least, Dean, Noah and Riley place the singing stuffed animals on the fireplace each year. Many years ago I declared a holiday theme of snowman, so we have singing snowman coming out our ears. The kids like to place them on the fireplace and make the snowman sing, AT THE SAME TIME. It is hilarious the first time this happens. It is funny the second this happens. It is even funny the third time this happens. However, singing snowman, singing different songs, all at the same time does get tiresome.  But, I wouldn’t change any of these moments. I look forward to our decorating tradition, and so do Dean and the kids.

Bear Cubs

Off to school for our two little bear cubs. Noah is in Second Grade and Riley is attending 4K. My sister-in-law, Bonnie, once said that Noah and Riley are like two little bear cubs because they are always together. They rough house, snuggle, fight and make-up like bear cubs.
Unfortunately, my cubs are attending class in two different locations, so they won't be able to take care of each other like they have all summer. Who am I kidding; they don't always take care of each other. Sometimes the evil twinkle in their eyes kicks in and they attack the other with vengeance. If only I knew a magic spell that I could cast; putting an end to the bear cub attacks. Life, minus bear cub attacks, would be so peaceful, and probably very boring.
On the other hand, two different locations for class is a good thing because when they reunite at the end of the day the hugs and snuggles are endless.
Cheers to a new school year!

I Win

“I can swim across the pool without floaties. Can you?” Noah tauntingly asks Riley.

“No, Mom said I have to use a noodle or floatie when I am in the big pool.”  Riley responds in a very matter of fact manner.

Fast forward two days and Riley is swimming in the pool without floaties, noodles or any other device. The essence of competition is overwhelming in my family. Years ago, Noah refused to trust arm floaties as a device that could provide some independence while in the water.

Splash!

When his sister jumped in the pool with arm floaties, he quickly followed. He was unwilling to be shown up by his sister, and hastily put his faith in arm floaties to help him swim independently.

The competitive edge carries over to other activities as well. Noah successfully maneuvered across a climbing wall at the Kidspace Museum in Pasadena, California.

I kept asking, “Are you sure you don’t want to get down?”

He was firm in his response. “I will get to the end.”

While watching Noah, and waiting to save the day if he fell, I realize Riley is attempting to climb the wall. Initially, she struggled with the foot holds and hand holds, but eventually was able to hold herself on the climbing wall successfully. That is where her attempt to climb the wall ended. She quickly reverted to freak out mode.

"Get me down!" She squealed.

Needless to say, the spirit of competition drives my children to challenge each other to try new things. Luckily, Dean and I are always close by to rescue Noah or Riley if the challenge is a bit scary.

Family Night @ Lambeau Field

 

Football, fireworks, food, oh my!

Family night at Lambeau Field was a first for our family. It was Noah and Riley's first time attending a "so called" game. Okay, it was a scrimmage against other Packer players; however, it was the first time the kids had been inside the historical landmark without being guided by a tour guide.

We enjoyed the evening with 60,000 others who were there to soak in the beginning of football season. Noah asked way too many questions. Thankfully, Dean was able to answer each and every question. Riley took pictures with my cell phone camera and went to the bathroom fourteen times. Truthfully, she went to the bathroom four times, but it felt like we spent  half our time in the bathroom. I tried to convince her the lavatory was not the most exciting place, but when you have to go, you have to go.

We snuck out of  Lambeau a few minutes early to avoid getting lost in the crowd. Noah's competitive side emerged as he attempted to race Riley down the spiral walkway. Around and around we walked, jogged, or ran so we could watch the fireworks from across the street.

Success! Noah won his impromptu race and Riley was able to enjoy the fireworks.

Bug Slug

“Bug slug!” announced Noah.

Laughing to myself, I stated, “I think you mean slug bug.”

“Oh yeah, slug bug is what I meant to say,” chuckled Noah.

Visions of my brother slugging me in the car when I was much younger flooded my brain. He would slug me and I would try my hardest to locate another Volkswagen Bug. Of course, in “Kim,” fashion, I was always one step behind my brother. He would spy another bug and slug me in the arm once again.

Sadly, the slug bug game would continue with me being slugged repeatedly. I would feverishly scan the streets; looking for any hint of a Volkswagen Bug. Unfortunately, I would get sidetracked while hunting for a bug and SLUG. Out of nowhere, I would be on the receiving end of another blow to the arm.

So, the question is do I elaborate and share the rest of the rules for the slug bug game with Noah? I think not because I would probably lose. I don’t have any desire to set myself up for failure.

Questions

“Can a person without feet walk?” asked Noah, while we were riding in the car. “I am trying to tell Riley a person without feet can walk, but she does not believe me.”

Where did this question come from? What prompted Noah to ask this question? Why is he asking me such a serious question right now? We are driving to the pool. Why not ask about the pool, since we have never been to this particular pool.

Here goes…my attempt at answering Noah’s question went a little bit like this.

“Absolutely! If the person has prosthetic feet, they can walk. However, if the individual does not have prosthetic feet, they cannot walk.” I answered, hoping I told him correct information. “Noah, if the person does not have prosthetic feet, they probably use a wheel chair to get from place to place.”

All day I have been baffled by Noah’s question. Even as I write this, I am pondering what sparked Noah’s interest in this topic. Immediately my mind went to a friend and co-worker whose husband lost his legs in an accident, but we haven’t talked about their family recently. Noah is incredibly observant and inquisitive. Plus, he tends to peek over my shoulder when I am browsing Facebook. So maybe we don’t have to talk to spark questions because he is observing so much in his daily life. Simple observations in his daily life prompt numerous questions.

Then it dawned on me, Dean and I recently watched an ESPN documentary about a University of Alaska-Anchorage (UAA) athlete who lost his feet due to frostbite. Noah was in and out of the room the entire time the documentary was on television. The documentary told the story of a young college student, from overseas, who was a talented long-distance runner. His family poured their entire life savings into their son’s opportunity to attend college in the United States. Due to circumstances out of the young man’s control, he went into a severe depression and wandered deep into the wilderness during the month of November. The athlete was reported missing and many people were searching to find him. When the young man did resurface from the depths of the Alaskan wilderness, he was severely frostbitten and suffering from hypothermia. Medical teams worked feverishly to help the athlete recover from the effects of frostbite and hypothermia; resulting in the amputation of the athlete’s feet. Today, the young man has prosthetic feet and is dedicated to earning his college degree. More importantly, he is passionate about overcoming or controlling his depression and helping others who suffer from depression do the same. Maybe Noah has been thinking about and questioning what happened to the UAA athlete and all his questions are surfacing today while we drive to the pool.

Finally, to end the day, our family happened to watched a quick news clip about the Wounded Warrior Amputee Softball Team. The soldiers participating in the game lost limbs while serving our country. Noah was mesmerized while watching the soldiers play baseball. He did not even notice the players’ prosthetic limbs. What he did notice was the players’ motivation to excel while playing the game of softball.

“The soldiers playing baseball are not any different than you and me.” Dean stated in a very matter of fact manner.

Regardless of why Noah is asking me inquisitive and thought provoking questions, it is more important he understands all human beings have feelings, dreams, goals, families and so much more. It doesn’t matter the shape, size, color, faith, ability or disability of individuals in our society. What matters is we treat people with respect and kindness on a daily basis, regardless of our differences. Our differences make us unique.

No Crying in Baseball

“Being deeply loved by someone gives you strength, while loving someone deeply gives you courage.”
― Lao Tzu

“Momma, Momma!” One word I hear repeated over and over and over and over in my daily life.

 Sometimes it is followed a sense of pride, “Momma, I scored four goals in soccer tonight.”

Other times it is followed by a bit of impatience, “Momma, are we there yet?”

Today I witnessed a moment when my son experienced his first baseball injury. Normally the sight of blood will send him into a tailspin of tears, but not today.

“Momma, I have to show you my first baseball injury,” he proudly stated, while tromping through the front yard. Dean was close behind him with a twinkle in his eyes, as Noah continued to share the heroic story of his first baseball injury.

“Look,” he said, shoving his elbow under my nose, “blood.”

Mind you, I expected to see massive amounts of blood, but all I saw was a speck of red. What he claimed was a mind-boggling baseball injury, was actually a scrape with a tad bit of blood. Sometimes raspberry type scrapes hurt a lot more than cuts involving blood.

I have to give kudos to Dean because he creatively twisted the scenario in a positive direction. When the baseball injury happened, Dean was quick to help him laugh off the scrape; encouraging him to dwell on how brave he was instead. He reminded Noah he was brave for continuing to master the art of baseball. He reminded Noah he was brave for continuing to improve his baseball skills, even though it might involve injury. He reminded Noah that if you want something bad enough, you have to work for it. He reminded Noah there is no crying in baseball, (my favorite line from the movie League of Their Own).

Dean reminded Noah of all of this by saying, “Wow, you have now experienced your first baseball injury.”

The love Dean has for Noah gave Noah the strength to laugh off his injury. However, the love Noah has for Dean gave Noah the courage to buy into the first baseball injury scenario; resulting in a satisfied, yet injured seven year old boy

Seventeen Seconds

“Mom, will you time how fast I can ride my bike? I ate a lot of food for dinner, so I probably will have a lot of energy to ride really fast.”

“Sure!” I said, while pondering if I really should count or just day dream and fib a bit about how fast he can ride his bike from point A to point B.

“Start counting, Mom!” Noah yelled. Off he goes, faster than the speed of light. Well, not really, but it sure would be a site to see.

One thousand one, one thousand two, one thousand three … Yes, I really did count. One thousand four, one thousand five… I am not kidding; I really did count this way.

“Stop!” yelled the little speck, on the other side of the park, I call Noah.

“Seventeen seconds!”

A mini-arm pump, followed by an excited, “Yes, I beat my record.”

What record? I didn’t know Noah was riding to beat a record. If I recall, this is the first time we have counted how fast he can ride his bike from point A to point B. Oh well, if he is happy about it, than I am thrilled.

Tomorrow is a new day. Maybe he can try to beat his record of seventeen seconds?

Snow vs. Rain

“To laugh often and much; to win the respect of intelligent people and the affection of children; to earn the appreciation of honest critics and to endure the betrayal of false friends. To appreciate beauty; to find the best in others; to leave the world a bit better whether by a healthy child, a garden patch, or a redeemed social condition; to know that even one life has breathed easier because you have lived. This is to have succeeded.” 
― Ralph Waldo Emerson

I have been pondering the weather lately because we have not had much of a winter in the badger state. Would I rather endure the snow and cold of winter or a winter full of rain, a bit of snow and lots of puddles? Today, I realized I would rather have snow. Since Friday, it has been snowing on and off; creating a winter wonderland outside.

At our house, the afternoon started off with the kids kicking balls around the house. Not my favorite activity for the kids to take part in while inside the house. Every time a ball zooms past, my nerves cinch a little tighter. Both Dean and I sent the kids upstairs to their rooms to kick the balls around. That did not last long because Noah and Riley began to disagree, followed by arguing and then some tears.

Fast forward five minutes, the kids and I put on our snow pants, winter coats and the rest of our winter gear. For the first time this winter, we actually have some snow. Noah and Riley were playing in the puddles at the end of the driveway. Go figure! We finally have snow and they are dipping their hands in puddles to play with ice chunks. There is something about puddles that intrigues my children.

After replacing some drenched gloves, we made our way to the park in the infamous blue sled. This is the same sled Noah fell out of when he was itty bitty and face-planted in the snow. There were a lot of tears following that face-plant. Today was a completely different experience.

I felt like I was a dog pulling a sled in the Iditarod because the kids kept yelling, “Faster, faster.” Pulling a sled is fun for awhile. Noah and Riley are having a jolly old time because they are sitting pretty in the blue sled. On the other hand, I am out of breath and extremely over-heated as I endure a serious workout by tromping through the snow with 70 pounds of giggling children in tow.

Splat! I jolted forward like a bat out of hell. I spun around to find two silly kids laughing hysterically, while rolling around in the snow.

“Do it again.” They squealed.

We repeated this little adventure over and over again. I never got tired of their silly giggles. When we reached the playground equipment, the adventure on the blue sled had lost its excitement. They bolted off the sled and climbed on the playground equipment. I found a seat on one of the three dinosaurs to catch my breath.

I believe I prefer snow in the winter, rather than brown grass and puddles.

Love is

I did not write the poem below; however, I believe what the author states is absolutely, positively true. Life passes by so quickly and we might forget to cherish the strength and courage we gather from the people we love in our life.

Dean is the love of my life; demonstrating strength, courage and passion each and everyday. He has taught me to be patient and compassionate. He has taught me to not sweat the small stuff. He has taught me to listen more and talk less. He has taught me to not take life so seriously. Wait, I think I may have taught him not to take life so seriously. Most importantly, he has encouraged me to be a better person, friend, daughter, wife, and mother.

Love is . . . Being happy for the other person when they are happy, Being sad for the person when they are sad, Being together in good times, And being together in bad times.
LOVE IS THE SOURCE OF STRENGTH.

Love is . . . Being honest with yourself at all times, Being honest with the other person at all times, Telling, listening, respecting the truth, And never pretending.
LOVE IS THE SOURCE OF REALITY.

Love is . . . An understanding so complete that you feel as if you are a part of the other person, accepting the other person just the way they are, And not trying to change them to be something else.
LOVE IS THE SOURCE OF UNITY.

Love is . . . The freedom to pursue your own desires while sharing your experiences with the other person, the growth of one individual alongside of and together with the growth of another individual.
LOVE IS THE SOURCE OF SUCCESS.

Love is . . . The excitement of planning things together, the excitement of doing things together.
LOVE IS THE SOURCE OF THE FUTURE.
Love is . . . The fury of the storm, The calm in the rainbow.
LOVE IS THE SOURCE OF PASSION.

Love is . . . Giving and taking in a daily situation, Being patient with each other's needs and desires.
LOVE IS THE SOURCE OF SHARING.

Love is . . . Knowing that the other person will always be with you regardless of what happens, Missing the other person when they are away but remaining near in heart at all times.
LOVE IS THE SOURCE OF SECURITY.
LOVE IS . . . THE SOURCE OF LIFE!”

By: Susan Polis Schutz

Love Letter

“Dear Mom and Dad,

Can we have more time together? Then we can have fun. I want to get to know you better. We don’t see each other very much during the week. I want to have a game night. I want to have a movie night. Can we have a family dinner?

Love, Noah”

This is the letter I found in Noah’s school folder when he arrived home from school today. The words melted my heart on so many different levels.

First of all, his words make me realize we have established a safe and happy home environment for him. It is a place he would like to spend more time. For example, over Christmas vacation, I asked the kids to go see a movie.

They responded, “No, we want to stay home all day.”

“Why? Daddy has an extra-long day at work. We should go out and see a movie.”  I responded.

“No, we don’t want to see a movie. We want to stay home all day.”

So, we did just that, we stayed home all day.  We played upstairs, in the basement, in the back room and any other place you can think of. Why not outside? We avoided the outside because it was freezing.

Second, family game night, family movie night and family dinners are as important to Noah as they are to Dean and me. I guess it is time to plan a family game or movie night in the near future.

Finally, Noah is writing. He is writing to convey a message to other people. He is communicating clearly; using punctuation correctly.  Wow!

This was my response to Noah’s letter.

Dear Noah,

I know our weekdays are busy, but we always have weekends. Weekends give us a chance to slow down a bit and spend time together. We will plan a family movie and family game night soon. I am so happy you like to play games and watch movies with your mom and dad.

We love you!

Love, Mom and Dad

Princess

Doesn’t every little girl want to be a princess at some point? My daughter was speechless when she watched her cousin, Emily, model her “princess” prom dress.

She pranced around Emily, while saying, “You’re a princess. You’re a princess.” Most likely, Riley was thinking, how can I be a princess too? I do have to say, Emily looked beautiful in her prom dress.

Riley’s brain must have been processing how she could be a princess ever since. On Monday, she dug her Cinderella dress out so she could be a princess. While digging her Cinderella dress out, she spied my wedding picture.

“Mama, you are a princess. Where is your princess dress?”

“Yes, I was a princess for a day too. Just like Emily.”

“Where is it Mama? Where is your princess dress?” she eagerly questioned.

The rational side of my brain said, “Don’t unearth your wedding dress from the depths of the closet. There are dishes to wash, clothes to fold and carpets to vacuum.” However, the Mama side of my brain said, “Go for it!”

That is just what we did, we went for it. Into the closet we went, searching for the infamous princess dress. We quickly unzipped the white, dress bag and Riley begged me to put it on.

As I stepped into the dress, I heard the rumble, rumble, click, pop, pop of the garage door opening. Dean was arriving home from work.

“Mama, Daddy is home. Let’s show him your princess dress.” We quickly made our way down the stairs. I moved a bit slower since the dress was a little snugger than I remember.

We rounded the corner, saw Dean browsing the mail and asked, “How was your day?”

There is nothing unusual about arriving home from work to find your wife in her wedding gown. Okay, maybe it is a bit unusual; but you only live once. Will Dean laugh? Will he smile? Will the vision of me in my wedding dress bring back all the memories from our “royal” wedding almost eleven years ago?

“Pretty good!” Dean turned around and a radiant smile stretched across his face, as well as a bit of shock to find his wife in a wedding dress. So many memories of our magical day came rushing to the forefront of his mind.

“Mama is a princess!”

The search for the perfect princess dress for Riley continues. For now, she is content knowing she is Mama and Daddy’s little princess.

Harmony

“Happiness is when you think, what you say, and what you do are in harmony”

One little word to describe a goal for myself this year is an interesting concept. After reading numerous blogs by teachers who are talented writers, I thought I would give one little word a try this year. I am surrounded by individuals who are making resolutions for the New Year. Maybe, if I approach the New Year with one little word in mind, I will achieve success.

Harmony is defined as agreement; accord; harmonious relations; a consistent, orderly, or pleasing arrangement of parts; congruity.

My one little word for the year is harmony. I am looking to maintain harmonious relations with my husband, my kids, my dad, my brother and the rest of my extended family. For example, harmony before bedtime would be lovely. As the day comes to a close, my kids get wound up. Currently, while I am typing, they are running up and down the hall upstairs yelling, laughing and being kids. In a perfect world, the imaginary monsters they happen to be running from make me realize they are being kids. But, why do they have to run from monsters at eight-o-clock in the evening? Why can’t they run from monsters at six-o-clock? Then, I wonder did my brother and I drive my parents crazy when all they wanted to do was crawl in bed and sleep? Of course we did. I remember sitting at the dinner table, enjoying a home cooked meal and being difficult.

I would whine, “David is bothering me. He is staring at me funny.”

“No I am not,” David would respond.

Of course, the whining and taunting would continue, even though our parents would ask us to stop numerous times. This memory reminds me that I drove my own parents crazy; therefore, it is only appropriate my own children act like kids and disrupt the peace and quiet I long for at eight-o-clock in the evening.

Maybe harmony at bedtime is meant to be disrupted. I mean, life would be pretty boring if you didn’t have a chance to run from monsters once a day.