The Web

I used to think parenting was all about me.  It was my job, my calling, and if I didn't execute every detail of every day correctly my children would be forever scarred and the world would be a dark place.
Thank God I got over that!
Our family is not a wheel with me as the hub...all spokes  by necessity connecting to me.
It's more like a web...all of us connected to all of us simultaneously.
Parker would never learn this if it had to come through me.

There are some things only my Man can teach him.
And then again, when the time came for Parker to shave for the first time (I guess he got tired of his sister calling him "The 'Stache") it was me he elbowed to follow him to the bathroom.  I didn't do anything but stand there and supervise, but he seemed to be happy with that.
So it's not an exact science, this parenting thing.

Even siblings sometimes do it.  Hillary was asking me just last night what I thought about a certain situation involving Parker and some of his friends.  He hadn't even told me about it.  I could let my feelings be hurt and worry that I should be more "in control" of the details of his social life...OR I could be happy he has a sister to confide things in.  A girl who loves him as much as she gets annoyed with him.  And that's a lot!  A girl who has learned some of her own lessons the hard way and is willing to share her wisdom.

This web we've woven is strong, but flexible.  And when one strand gets tugged, we all feel it in some way.
And it doesn't stop with us.  My children have grandparents, aunts and uncles, and family friends who are part of our intricate pattern.  It makes our web larger and stronger.  Kind of like a safety net.
So instead of worrying, we can have fun...

which adds beauty to our web.

from Charlotte's Web

Charlotte's Daughters: "Oh!  That would take us a lifetime!"

Wilbur: "A liftetime.  That's what we have."

Jingle Bells and Whoopie Pies

Let other families go over the river and through the woods...the Temple Family heads to The City for our Christmas fun.
Even the car ride was harmonious as the kids compared iphone apps and took silly pictures of themselves.

No, there's nothing wrong with your eyes...Hill took these pics with some kind of app on her phone, making them look...retro?
Anyway, after enjoying some marvelous Mongolian food we hit the stores, collecting Christmas in the form of clothing, cologne, and cds.

And of course, in the car between stores, we did a few quick-changes.  Because who can resist wearing their new stuff right away?  I introduced Hillary to this fabulousness...

where she was pampered and prettied and persuaded to buy a few face necessities.
But the highlight of the day happened at Starbucks.
Hubby eased up to the drive-thru speaker where he placed our orders, one at a time...a mocha for me...a peppermint latte for himself...and then my Big Burly Guy looked at that speaker and with a straight face said, "...and one Whoopie Pie."  At this point I was the one doing the whooping.  With laughter that is.  I'm sure the poor clerk inside was rolling his eyes.  Hubby accused Hillary of ordering this just so he would have to say the word "whoopie".  She couldn't defend herself because she was laughing so hard.

We ended our evening with Sherlock Holmes...

..and popcorn and sodas and contraband candy smuggled in by purse and by pocket.
And I wanted to exclaim
as they turned down the lights...
"Merry Christmas to all!
It has been a GREAT night!"

Orna-MENTAL

Recently, a helpful friend of mine pointed out to me just how many weeks, days, and hours it had been since my last blog post.  She was wondering when I might feel inspired again.  I explained to her that I try to keep this blog about happy, positive things.  And since our lives have resembled a chapter straight out of A Series of Unfortunate Events since Thanksgiving, I haven't had much good to write about.
It's enough to drive a girl mental.
You know...call the crazy house and reserve a bed kind of "mental".
But then I looked at my bare-except-for-lights Christmas tree and decided to go ORNA-mental instead.  I will put it all on the tree.
Here is a little car that I smashed up with a hammer on the front end to represent the real car Parker wrecked.  (He wasn't hurt at all...Christmas miracle!)
And hanging from a pretty red ribbon is the burned out furnace plates we had to replace last week.
A tiny gas can to remind me that I ran out of gas IN OUR DRIVEWAY the other morning before school.
And that Dust Bunny on a hook?  That tells the story of my broken vacuum cleaner.  Thank goodness I have a generous sister who lives a few miles away and is willing to share her Hoover.
But wait...here's another box of ornaments!
These will remind me of what DIDN'T happen to me this Christmas season.
I place an ugly little elf on the tree.  And although I occasionally still have nightmares in which a purple dinosaur sings through his large nose about his love for me, I thank my lucky stars that my kids aged out before Elf on a Shelf made his appearance!  At least Barney was in charge of his own magic and didn't expect me to move him around in the middle of the night.
And this subpoena over here by the bottom branch?  That reminds me that I DIDN'T have to go to court this week.  (Dear Crazy Lady, I'm your kids TEACHER not your custody mediator!)
And here's one more - a dollar bill - to show how I DIDN'T lose the kids' Christmas.  Like that layer of fat around your heart that your body won't let you use, even if you starve to death, I craftily held on to the Christmas money by hiding it in the deep freeze in a bowl labeled "leftover pea soup".  Neither Hubby nor Insurance Agent managed to find it.  So our annual Family Christmas Shopping Day is safe!
There...finished!
Now I have a full tree... and a full heart!
Merry Christmas :)

I was looking through the fundraiser packet Parker brought home from band, and I had to chuckle.  On one side of the page, he had been asked to write down a list of people he could sell to.  After all the Usual Suspects (grandparents, aunts and uncles, neighbors) he had written "sister".  Never mind that said Sister is a poor college student who raids my change jar in the kitchen to put gas in her car.  But then again...maybe she owes him.
Just last weekend, she roped him into helping her with a photography assignment.  This required him to jump off our second story deck while she stood on the ground and tried to capture "movement" on film.
And it wasn't a one-time shot.
He jumped off the deck, rolled to a stop, walked in the basement door, climbed the stairs, walked through the living room dropping leaves on the carpet, and went out the patio door to do it all over again no less than 10 times.
I told her that any medical bills incurred during this procedure would be her responsibility.
Fortunately, nothing was broken, or even sprained, and the picture did turn out pretty cool...

I guess when you've risked your life for someone, it's not asking too much to expect them to buy a $10 box of chocolates from you.  

Sigh.

Guess I better make sure there's plenty of change in my jar.

Life Stories

"Mom, what time was I born?"
It was Hillary's birthday, and she wanted to know if she'd passed the actual hour and minute of her birth already.  I had to stop and think.  It's been 20 years.  I remember the scent of her baby head.  The weight of her as they lay her on my arm for just a moment before whisking her away from me.  But the "time of birth"?  I wasn't sure.
And then I realized that I had it written down.
I had started a journal for Hillary while she was still in the womb.  I wanted her to know what I was thinking and how I was feeling as I prepared for her.  I wanted her to have her own life story.  And I would record it for her until she was old enough to write it herself.
I dug through the closet and found the pink journal with yellowed pages.  There it was...the whole story of her birth.

I smiled and kept reading.
The language was stilted and unfamiliar as I tried to describe to this new little human...a stranger to me...the events happening around her, the family members who loved her, her favorite toy, her first steps, her quirky habits.  I think I was trying to convince her (and myself) that we were all going to be okay.

The years passed and I continued writing in her journal, and started one for Parker as soon as we knew he was coming.
And then I started this blog and continued recording their lives, including pictures and music.
And I'm SO glad I did.
I look back through these journals and blog entries and I smile at the sweet things I've forgotten.  Stories are important.  And I won't be here forever, but these stories can be.
I read a quote from a book today, "Are you living a life worth telling stories about?"
Our answer is YES!
What's yours?

Free Lunch

"Mom, I need lunch money," Parker said to me as we were getting ready to leave for school.
"I just GAVE you lunch money." I complained.  "Are you spending it all on a la carte?"
"No."
"What are you doing then, buying lunch for the entire lunchroom?"
He rolled his eyes and said, "Of course not.  Just for me and Eli."
Just to be clear, I do not have a child named Eli.  Yet apparently I have been buying him lunch for a while now.  This is not the first time Parker has been generous with my money.  He often gets me to make a fast food run before sporting events, returning with enough food for a whole passel of half-grown kids.  And he swipes my extra packs of gum from the kitchen drawer and passes it out like Santa Clause on a mission.
I guess it could be worse.  He could be stingy and selfish.  Or be the kid who mooches off everyone else.  So I just pretend to be irritated, and I write him out another lunch money check.
You know what they say...there is no free lunch.
Unless you happen to be friends with my kid.

Hilarity

hi·lar·i·tyNoun/həˈle(ə)ritē/

1. Extreme amusement, esp. when expressed by laughter.

2. Boisterous merriment.

There has been much discussion over the years about Hillary's name.  When I was pregnant with her, I wanted to name a girl "Harmony".  But others thought that was the kind of name that would cause people to make fun of a child.  And I was a teenager...easily swayed.  So I chose "Hillary" instead.  Now that it's apparent what kind of person our girl is, everyone agrees that "Harmony" would have been perfect.  She's musical AND she brings peace and unity to whatever group she is a part of.  

But "Hillary" fits just as well.

It means "cheerful".  And she is.  But the name also has the same root as "hilarity".  And if there is anything that brings hilarity to our family, it's our Hillary.

Case in point...

Today we were sitting at the table, finishing our Sunday lunch...an event that is becoming rare around our growing up family, when the conversation turned to tasting.

..."Maybe I'm a Supertaster," I said.

My family just looked around at each other as if to say "Here she goes..."

"Seriously," I protested.  "It's a real thing.  Some people have more taste buds than others and react more strongly to taste.  You can get a little test disc to disolve on your tongue.  Some people don't even taste it, some kind of taste it.  And some taste it so strongly they are gagging and looking for a drink."

This led to wondering where one could score such a neat product...which led to the question of whether one could see this with the naked eye and do their own testing by counting the taste buds on various tongues...which led, of course, to all of us sticking out our tongues.

Hillary erupted in laughter.  "Mom!  Stick out your tongue again."  hahahaha "Why do you make that face?" hahahaha!

"What face?"

"Look at Parker.  When he sticks out his tongue, he looks normal.  But when you do it, your entire face changes!" hahahaha

By this point her mirth was contagious.  Parker was laughing.  Even Hubby was chuckling.  Hillary was squeaking her words by now and wiping tears from her eyes.  Which made me laugh too.  

I don't know anyone else who could turn something so simple into something that engulfs a family in shared belly laughter.  

This kind of stuff happens all the time when Hillary is around.  She laughs easily and with no holds barred.  And thank goodness...since the rest of us tend to be more reserved and serious.  I think God knew this little family would need regular bursts of Harmony AND Hilarity.