Grown-ups never understand January 10, 2012

Grown-ups never understand anything for themselves, and it is tiresome for children to be always and forever explaining things to them. (from The Little Prince by Antoine de Saint-Exupery)

I didn’t understand that being the best mom possible would mean learning the truth that there is no such thing as a perfect mom.

I didn’t understand that it wouldn’t be my job to teach him patience; it would be my job to learn it by being his mom.

I didn’t understand that trains are more important than schedules, that dinosaurs will never be extinct in the minds of little boys, or that bacon is the real magic word.

I didn’t understand that the first tucking-in doesn’t always take. I didn’t know that sometimes you just have to say goodnight five more times with kisses and prayers.

It seems I rarely understand anything for myself and Benjamin is always and forever explaining things to me.

In listening October 14, 2011

And so he listened. And in his listening, his heart opened wide and then wider still. (from The Miraculous Journey of Edward Tulane by Kate DiCamillo)

Free (repost) September 12, 2011

(I did not have a chance to post this yesterday. Sorry.)

“And the turtles, of course…all the turtles are free                                  As turtles and, maybe, all creatures should be.”  (from Yertle the Turtle and Other Stories by Dr. Seuss)

In 1776, fifty-six men did a brave thing when they pledged their lives, their fortunes, and their sacred honor to say, “Don’t tread on me!” Because of them, generations of their descendents and the descendents of the weary travelers that came after them have known nothing but liberty all their lives. We have sometimes given away rights that they gave everything to secure. May we find the courage, when needed, to resurrect the old banner “Give me liberty or give me death.” And more than anything, may we stand firm and breathe freely in the liberty secured for us more than two thousand years ago by a man who died for us all.

Our hearts go out to the families whose remembrance today is not national, but personal. And although I did not quote from it today, I recommend The Man Who Walked Between The Towers by Mordicai Gerstein.

 

Anticipation December 10, 2010

Anticipation means, I’ve been thinking all day about making the cookies. I’m so excited. I can’t wait. (from Christmas Cookies: Bite-Size Holiday Lessons by Amy Krouse Rosenthal)

Anticipaion means, I’ve been thinking all week about giving away a great children’s book. I’m so excited. I can hardly wait. Monday is the big day! (And also, I am anticipating baking at my friend Meg’s new house tomorrow. She has a double convection oven. It’s very exciting for me.)

Moderation means December 2, 2010

Moderation means at the party not having twenty cookies, and not having zero cookies, but having just enough cookies. (from Christmas Cookies: Bite-Size Holiday Lessons by Amy Krouse Rosenthal)

One of the great joys of unpacking my Christmas boxes last week was getting this beautiful book out. I cannot recommend Christmas Cookies enough. Rosenthal’s “bite-size” life lessons combined with Jane Dyer’s gorgeous art make it the perfect Christmas book.

I chose this quote as a reminder to myself as the Christmas party invitations start to pile up. Moderation, Kristi. Moderation. Now I will have this sweet quote in my head to help me. In a way, I could look at it as permission to enjoy a few cookies (or brownies or slices of caramel apple or cups of punch or hot chocolate) because Rosenthal says moderation doesn’t mean you have zero cookies. It means you have just enough. Thanks, Amy Rosenthal.

Thank goodness November 28, 2010

Thank goodness for all of the things you are not!

Thank goodness you’re not something someone forgot,

and left all alone in some punkerish place

like a rusty tin coat hanger hanging in space. (from Did I Ever Tell You How Lucky You Are? by Dr. Seuss)

This is my belated Thanksgiving post. I didn’t want you to think I ignored Thanksgiving–I love Thanksgiving and would never ignore it. I was just enjoying the day itself so much that I didn’t turn on the computer to post a quote. This year it seems like I keep hearing about people who are, in the words of Dr. Seuss, “so much-much, so muchly much-much more unlucky” than me. It has come home to me just how many things I have to be thankful for. I am grateful for the reminders.

This morning, I had an incredibly embarrassing moment in church when my child ran from me across the back of the sanctuary, down an aisle, and straight to the front where the preacher was preaching. We don’t have carpet in our church, so the whole time I was chasing him I was painfully aware of the sound of my high-heeled shoes click-click-clicking and echoing around the room. I was also painfully aware of the giggling congregation as my husband intercepted the runaway on the other side of the front row. But, as I was carrying him out the back door and trying to walk on the tip toes of high heels to minimize the sound, I just kept thinking that I’d rather be in this situation than a lot of others. I’d rather be chasing my healthy, rambunctious boy through a church in front of everybody than holding his hand in a hospital room or watching our house burn down, to name just a few I’ve heard this week.

As turtles should be November 1, 2010

And the turtles, of course…all the turtles are free

As turtles and, maybe, all creatures should be. (from Yertle The Turtle and Other Stories by Dr. Seuss)

Exactly ten years ago I boarded a Lufthansa airplane and flew from Dallas, TX to Frankfurt, Germany. Then to Budapest, Hungary, from which I took a double decker bus into Romania. I was seventeen years old on a Shoes For Orphan Souls shoe delivery trip with about forty Americans, only one of whom I personally knew. So many things about that trip have impacted my life–the lonely suffering of the orphans chief among them. I think about some aspect of it at least once a week. You would expect the suffering and poverty and even the romance of an old European city to impact a seventeen-year-old American girl. But there was one aspect of the trip I doubt anyone could have predicted would hit me the way it did.

The American presidential election.

I was only a few weeks shy of my eighteenth birthday, so I wasn’t able to vote that year. I wasn’t an ignorant teenager. I knew how important elections were in my country. But as we drove through the Romanian countryside, I was surprised to see Romanian citizens listening raptly to the radio report of the results of an election so many miles away. They were so invested in it. I didn’t understand why they cheered until they started to translate the report for me, “George Bush is your President!” said a young Romanian man as he pumped my hand in a congratulatory shake. I wondered why they would care. I certainly didn’t care who was the leader of their country. Why did they seem so invested in the outcome of the elections in mine?

It was my first inkling that what happens in countries that have been free so long the citizens start to take it for granted, matters to people in countries where freedom is still a new taste. I don’t know what you believe or how you vote, but I hope you believe something and vote accordingly. I believe that free is how all people should be. I was taught this all my life, but it didn’t sink in until I visited a beautiful country still scarred by communist wounds, where people were wholly invested in the free elections of a country that was almost bored by liberty. I have never been bored by liberty since.

Anyone can fly October 15, 2010

Anyone can fly. All you need is somewhere to go that you can’t get to any other way. The next thing you know, you’re flying among the stars. (from Tar Beach by Faith Ringgold)

Just how lucky you are September 7, 2010

You know, Spoon–I wonder if you realize just how lucky you are. Your friends will never know the joy of diving headfirst into a bowl of ice cream. They’ll never know what it feels like to clink against the side of a cereal bowl. They’ll never be able to twirl around in a mug, or relax in a hot cup of tea. (from Spoon by Amy Krouse Rosenthal)

If you haven’t seen this delightful picture book yet, you really should check it out. It’s all about wishing you had someone else’s life, never knowing someone else wishes he had yours. And it’s super cute to boot. Gotta love Amy Krouse Rosenthal.

I have to say, I’m kind of disappointed that Shanna was the only one who commented on yesterday’s post. Nobody else could think of something to say to the stars? Nobody?…Beuler?….Beuler?

Oh, well, to sweeten the bitterness of a single comment day, I think we have an exciting new contributer to add to the blog. Soon and very soon you will be seeing some posts on this site by an award winning children’s book author. Keep reading!

Take a rake out September 4, 2010

“These messy leaves have covered everything,” said Toad. He took  a rake out of the closet. “I will run over to Frog’s house. I will rake all of his leaves.” (from The Surprise, Frog and Toad All Year by Arnold Lobel)

Today the first few leaves of fall brought this delightful story to mind. I love this early introduction to both friendship and irony. In The Surprise Frog and Toad each wake up to find leaves everywhere. They each decide to surprise the other by raking his leaves for him. They sneak to one another’s homes, rake all of the leaves, and sneak home. Then the nasty old wind interferes, but I’ll let you read it for yourself sometime.

The reason I love it is that it reminds me of friends who have seen a mess in my life and just taken out a rake. Frog and Toad are some of my favorite friends in literature. I love that they don’t go to the other animals and talk about what a mess their friend’s yard is. They don’t sit around worrying over the mess. They don’t scold. They don’t even put their own needs first. They just go to the closet and take out a rake. True friends will help clean up each other’s messes.

Also, I always say it’s a mark of the strength of my friendship with someone if I will invite them into my home while it’s in its messiest state. I know that a real friend won’t judge me if she trips over toys or sees the pile of unfolded laundry on my bed. A really, really, really good friend might even help me fold it while we chat. Do you have friends like that? I do.