Fashion tips from the trenches

* When Baby has a cold, wear a print top as opposed to a solid. You will get sniveled upon, and the pattern will camouflage the slime better.

* And wear a ponytail if you absolutely cannot get your hair cut short. Sickness makes babies want to pull and eat hair more than usual.

* When cooking dinner, wear an apron, for goodness sake. Don't think for a minute, no matter how clever, agile, or long of arms you are, that you can manage to stir anything on the stove without getting spattered on.

Driving up the cost

Finally we settled with the insurance company for the car, which was of course ruled a total loss. As of yesterday the wreck is out of our driveway, leaving me to ponder just what an expensive luxury owning a car is. I read once that depreciation alone is the most expensive cost to owning a car, far outstripping maintenance, insurance, and even gasoline (although maybe that was written before the latest surge in gas prices).

So I did the math. We bought that car just two years ago, at about the blue book value. We received a settlement for the car at approximately the current blue book value. Certainly we would have liked it if the settlement had been a bit on the higher end of the range, but my point is that the cost was about average each time, sans any bargains or rip-offs.

We took good care of that car, giving it all the regular check-ups and oil changes, and until the fateful crash it was never involved in any other accident. Yet the total loss in value of that car averaged over $100/month during the time that we owned it! Talk about depreciating assets! When you actually do factor in all the other costs associated with running a vehicle, then it becomes a very pricey convenience indeed.

Potter, r.i.p. (or not)

At some point I've got to write up a long, philosophical bit about all the things wrong with Harry Potter (and no, it has nothing to do with the fact that the books involve magic) and why I dislike the series. But for now, with all the hoopla about the final book coming out (finally! Can we just get over the fad already??), I'll just fall back on my main gripe, which is that the books are simply too lame to justify the level of the craze.

I feel pretty much the same way I did about Michael Crichton and his smash hit with Jurassic Park: That's all?? Dinosaurs coming back to life? Come on, I could have thought of that one! Same thing with a kid who discovers that he's got magical powers. Of course kids will lap this up!

One good thing about this, though, is the number of people who tend to go gaga over the books. These fans include people whose opinion I respect, so it makes me a more sympathetic person to see otherwise sensible people find enjoyment in things that I can see right through. It makes me appreciate their good-humoured forbearance with me when I was just a little bit excessively fond of Star Wars a decade or so ago. For what do we live, but to make sport of our neighbours, and to laugh at them in our turn? =)

On Scripture Memory

I've been wondering recently how to measure the value of scripture memory, which led me to wonder whether such an attempt at quantifying spiritual matters is even allowed. After all, we are supposed to hide God's Word in our hearts so as not to sin (is that actually a command anywhere, or is it mainly anecdotal testimonials drawn largely from Psalm 119?), which ought to be the clincher right there. But if scripture memory is an option rather than an imperative, should we or should we not seek to pursue it?

The first and obvious answer is yes, we should. I was encouraged (first by monetary bribes, then by the esprit de corps of family projects) to memorize many verses at a very young age, until eventually the discipline became internal and I chose to learn and remember the Word of God on my own. I'm very grateful for this discipline, because everything I learned before the age of, say, fifteen, I still retain most vividly and clearly. (Beyond that, the passages get a little fuzzier, but I can always brush them up rather sprucily.) I'm glad for the familiarity with scripture, I'm glad for the practice, and I'm glad to be able to quote pertinent passages at a moment's notice so that I might be 'ready always to give an answer' and 'rightly divide the word of truth' (um, yeah, I can quote the words readily enough, but I still can't usually cite them without the help of a concordance).

But I have noticed that when I read my Bible nowadays (or all during the last ten years, more or less), whenever I come to a passage or a verse that I already know, I tend to find my mind glossing over it a bit, skipping through the familiar words as if on auto-pilot while my critical thinking races on ahead. It's easier for me to be struck by something profound and new when it's a verse I don't already know by heart. (Even though I'm already familiar with a lot of the main ideas of the Bible, I never actually memorized the verse in the gospel about 'Look, Lord, here are two swords,' for instance, so it always catches me by surprise and delight.) I can absorb the gist of it, but I'm not necessarily reading with a mind open to the setting of, 'Huh, that's interesting - I wonder what he's trying to say here.'

I'm not sure what the solution is. When I catch myself skimming through familiar territory, I try to slow down and ponder the significance of what I am reading. It's tricky to spot, though - when was the last time you stopped to ponder the staggering implications of John 3:16?

And I really don't think the best idea would be not to memorize scripture. I'm very excited about standing Jane in good stead as young as possible, but I don't want to think that I'm crippling her Bible studies for the rest of her life by giving her a rote acquaintance with that which is sacred and holy.

Ella

Jane

The year is on the wane

It's hard to believe that July is more than half over already. I passed up even Friday the Thirteenth and Bastille Day with nary a post, which is a fair indication of how busy I must be. Some quick highlights of last week:

* I discovered that Wal-mart will price match local competitors' sales. Apparently they have been doing this for some time, and if the item is under $10, you don't even need to flourish the competitor's sale flier to get the price, although it is up to the manager's discretion what qualifies as local. This is a tremendous boon in the cheap food department, as Aldi, my best source of cheap staples, is an inconvenient distance off my beaten path.

* I tried my hand at homemade granola, and it turned out scrumptiously. The cold cereal dilemma was really getting to me, but I wasn't quite ready to get up at the stroke of 6 a.m. and fry eggs and toast for Michael's breakfast every morning just to keep him from eating overpriced and unwholesome cold cereal. Besides, I really really really don't want to weird him out too much with any health kicks. He's been most long-suffering with my whole wheat spaghetti and the brown-rice-flour-in-the-brownies fiasco, but still. I'm delighted that he's delighted by this new discovery. Jane and I like it, too. We eat it the European way, with yogurt (although, alas, my spoiled palate requires a liberal dose of maple syrup).

* I watched a friend's two kids on Friday, and discovered what a handful four little children can be. They are delightful children, 25 months and 12 months old, but so active, so inquisitive, so requiring of attention! Even with naps spelling my two, I did not get a single thing done. I read books, I helped share toys, I helped the guests not climb onto the hearth, but there was no getting supper ready or cleaning the house. The wonderful thing is that it made the rest of the week feel that much easier. Oh, only two to juggle? Not a problem in the least. Three children next weekend will be a positive breeze.

*We've been a little addicted to X-Files recently. A friend burned Seasons 1-3 onto disc for us and we've been watching them rather later than we ought each night. I find the endings decidedly inconclusive. We are told that the movie ties loose ends up a bit, which it jolly well better. Meanwhile I cannot be left alone in a dark house and keep expecting giant leeches to crawl out of the drains.

* Jane now knows all her letters and what sounds they make. Ella will be six months old at the end of the month. We may have occasion to be using our passports again ere long.

Jaws

Jane's new favourite book is The Nutcracker. It's a beautifully illustrated children's book, with a marvelous retelling of the classic story. But even more marvelous is Michael's rendition, which I had the treat of listening to the other night as he read to her before bedtime. I sat nearby holding Ella and constantly dissolving into giggles at his reading.

'All the children loved Herr Drosselmeyer. Why, you ask? Because he had such a funny first name...

'"No, Fritz, no!" Clara cried, running after him, so she could beat him into a bloody pulp...

'The nutcracker crashed to the floor and broke into a million and one pieces. Sadly Clara picked up the million and one pieces and showed them to Herr Drosselmeyer. "Why, Clara," he said, quickly hiding the million pieces behind his back and tying his handkerchief around the jaw, "many good soldiers get wounded in battle..." And he handed the jaw back to Clara...

'Later that night Clara woke up and saw that tremendous mice were fighting with the jaw. "Leave him alone!" she cried, pulling on the tail of the largest mouse, who ran off frightened, because apparently it was more frightened of having its tail pulled than of being skewered by the jaw's sword...

'"Thank you for your help," said the prince, picking up the crown which had fallen from the mouse's head and placing it upon Clara's head. Now would you like to wear a crown that had just been on the head of a tremendous mouse? No. So be glad you don't live in Germany. "I would like to take you back to the Land of Sweets so all my friends can hear about how I had to be rescued by a girl...."

'When the prince and Clara arrived, he told his friends all about what a schlub he was...

'And then he called for his sleigh, which was drawn by two reindeer. Why, you ask? Because they were the best artists in the kingdom...'

It occurred to me to document just how many books we've read aloud to each other since our marriage. I was going to note that the pace has slowed drastically since the children showed up, but we actually read more books aloud now than ever before. It's just that now they tend to be very short, full of pictures, and titled along the lines of Goodnight Moon.

Books Rose has read aloud to Michael:

Pride and Prejudice
The Scarlet Pimpernel
Scaramouche
The Prisoner of Zenda
Beau Geste
Ella Enchanted
Johnny Tremain
Carry On, Mr. Bowditch
The Wind in the Willows
Farmer Boy
Little House in the Big Woods

Books Michael has read aloud to Rose:

The Sword of Shannara
The Elfstones of Shannara
Wizard's First Rule
Magic Kingdom for Sale
The Christian Mind
The Great Divorce
The Case for Christ
The Singer
The Knowledge of the Holy

Hmm, do we detect any sort of a pattern here? I am sure there are other books, but that's all I can think of off the top of my head. Probably even more telling is the list of books I want to read to Michael. Things like Little Women, the Anne series, A Little Princess, the Grandma's Attic series, and the like all involve books I read often growing up, so they have a lot to do with shaping my opinions and thoughts. But they're also rather girly books, so I'm going to have to put some thought into how to work them in. Not every series has a Farmer Boy.

Little house in Georgia

We read a lot to each other in the early days of our marriage. Most evenings involved reading at least a chapter or two of whatever book we were on, and it seemed we always had several going at once.

Nowadays, however, we don't seem to have as much time for lounging about, reading aloud, and talking over the ideas. Our evenings these days involve eating dinner, playing with the girls, putting them down, and then racing about trying to accomplish whatever it is we want to get done before we collapse. Pretty much nothing productive can be done while they're both awake, other than washing the supper dishes.

So I decided to remedy matters. Recently I tossed one of the books I want to read to Michael into the car, and started reading a chapter or two aloud whenever we were on the way somewhere. We started on the Little House books, which he has never read but has an aversion to based on his impression of the, in his words, cheesy TV show. So I started off with Farmer Boy, thinking that he might more easily identify with the adventures and escapades of a little boy growing up than those of a little girl.

We've just started Little House on the Prairie, and I'm realising, as I read these books, how much my perspective has changed since the last time I read them, which must have been all of ten years ago, at least. I read these books many times growing up, and I always identified with Laura, of course. She writes well, and it's easy to picture her life based on the vivid descriptions. Now, however, I'm seeing things from Ma's perspective.

Pa and Ma's constant battle for survival, facing the elements and bringing calm and comfort to the life they have chosen, is astounding. I read about Ma sitting at home doing the mending while Pa goes off into the Big Woods every day, and wonder whether I could be so calm if our lives involved facing death on a daily basis ('If Pa met a bear or a panther, he must kill it with the first shot, for a wild animal could kill a man before he could reload his gun'). Would I be sitting quietly at home, colouring the butter with carrot juice in the winter because I like everything on my table to be pretty, while Michael was out and about in the snowstorm? What about leaving all their family behind in the Big Woods, and loading up all their possessions in the wagon, leaving behind the beds, tables, and chairs, because 'Pa could always make more'?

These people knew so much about survival, about self-sufficiency and initiative and resourcefulness. When they came to a river, they knew they must cross it, and risked their lives making the ford. Pa and Ma worked so closely at everything, perfectly sizing up the situation and meeting it head-on. They had so little in material wealth, and so much in terms of character and practical experience.

I love this exchange from Little House in the Big Woods:

'No one'd ever starve on your cooking, Caroline,' said Pa.
'Well, no, Charles,' said Ma, 'not while you were there to provide for us.'

The white knight is sliding down the poker

When we were establishing the settings for our new computer, we had to choose both a short name and a long name for the domain or whatever it is that the computer uses to identify itself. Michael chose the short name, which meant that I got to pick the long name. This was a tough choice, and I felt rather put on the spot, as it was very late at night and I did not feel creative enough to come up with a clever and original yet comprehensive enough name that fully captured the nature of this machine. I tried to work in as many ideas as I could to represent what this bastion of our house and home would mean to us, but Michael stodgily whittled it down, and the final result was a computer name of Focht Arches at Pemberly-upon-Rivendell.

I was fairly delighted with this, albeit not without a lingering regret at not having gotten a chance to work Narnia and Star Wars in there too. But the glitter began to wear off quickly. The long name auto-filled in every time I tried to type my last name in online fields and such. This was a bit annoying. The long name is also the one that comes up in every application, so that the chess game always reads 'Computer vs. Focht Arches at Pemberly-upon-Rivendell,' a rather unwieldy title bar.

In the end, the long name had to go. The long name and short name are now the same. It's boring, uncreative, and easy to guess. But it's also practical and oh-so-much more efficient. This is why we have nine whole months to think about what we want to name our children.

Overheard at bedtime

Michael (singing to Jane): Let's get your pajamas, let's get your pajamas, let's get your pajamas, yes, yes, yes!
Jane: Yes, yes, yes!
Me: That's not a real song!
Michael: Well, Jane likes it.
Me (in a sing-song voice): Oh, Michael thinks he can just make up songs by putting notes on woooords, but it doesn't wooooork....
Michael (singing louder): Rose has rules for everything...

Whatnots and et ceteras

This past week has seen some amazing activity on the worldview-broadening front. Or so it would seem. Call me effusive and enthused, but currently I'm reading through/have read several items of rock-my-little-boat significance.

One book that I highly recommend is How To Be A Budget Fashionista, by Kathryn Finney. It's all about looking, feeling, and being fabulous on a budget. Now, the stuff about Louis Vuitton knock-offs and Seven jeans goes rather over my head, but it's an amazing and insightful read, nonetheless. It leaves me feeling all inspired and giddy and motivated to run around in the sunshine with lemon juice on my hair, wrap my feet up in vaseline and old socks at night, go out and get properly fitted for good-quality undergarments, and purge my closet down to the top ten essential items that every woman should have. If you are a) female and b) wear things on a regular basis then you should read this book.

Next on my reading list is Once A Month Cooking, a concept which I'd always known about but never investigated thoroughly. (I think it's gradually dawning on me that I actually qualify for reading homemaking books.) I won't go to the complete once-a-month model, of course, with chaotic baking day and all, but it's a very good idea to make up twice as much of something, as long as I'm making it anyway for dinner, and just freeze half of it. The revolutionary part comes when I realise that I can divide and conquer - freeze the stuff before I bake it, so it thaws out and bakes up fresh. Reconstituted leftovers are nasty. Plus, the book has some really great recipes in it.

I've also been following the discussion at True Womanhood on the so-called patriocentric view of the family. There are so many angles to this topic as to preclude my commenting on the actual site. Plus it already has 200+ comments on it. My thoughts have undergone a variety of permutations, from the 'Well, that's nice for them and I'm glad it works out for some girls if that's what they and their families want' to 'Oh, my, I know so clearly how this whitewashed view of the One Best Way To Be A Godly Daughter is going to vibe with impressionable young women.' Lots more could be said on this topic, but it probably will be already, by other tongues (hands?) than mine.

Finally, and most excitingly, I've ventured into the wonderful world of mystery shopping. I'd always dismissed this concept as a probable scam or a logistical impossibility, but a lady at church kept raving about the fancy restaurants she and her husband eat at for free, so I finally began to investigate and apply. I must say that the application process is daunting at the first, but promises to be very rewarding in the end. We went out for our first mystery shop last week, and while it took me nearly three hours to compile my report, I'm certain that this is an area of expertise that will improve with time. A dazzling prospect of infinite cheap dates unfolds before us.

Pretty in pink

I LOVE having girls!!

What celebrity do you think Jane looks like here?

Lowest common denominator

Here is Jane, helping to put away the silverware from the diswasher. I clear the knives and other dangerous things out, and then set the rack and the dish tray on her level, and finish emptying the dishwasher in about half the time it takes her to line up all the untensils carefully in place. It's so cute to have such a perfectionist! (Michael says just wait, it will get annoying soon enough. Pah!)

She has also begun to help put away the laundry, and is pretty much solely responsible for her and Ella's things. I bring the depleted laundry basket into the nursery, and then reach out items by category and hand her armloads of stuff. 'Go put this in the pajama bin!' I tell her, and off she trots to comply, feeling very proud of herself, no doubt, for the responsibility. Or, 'Put these in Ella's onesies drawer!' and so she does. She knows what goes in every drawer and bin now, and soon, I hope, will be at the point of recognising each item of clothing for herself. It helps that we don't bother with folding most clothes.

I am a very firm believer in the lowest common denominator thinking, which holds that the youngest member in the family who can possibly do something should, thus shifting the workload down as far as possible. We are fighting off an invasion of ants right now, and I half wondered why I am fighting them off with deadly poison, instead of welcoming them in and assigning them the task of wiping the kitchen counters clean of crumbs every night.

Just right

I remember when we were first breaking the news about Ella, I would generally respond to queries as to how far apart the babies would be with 'Almost two years,' because that seemed somehow more respectable than 21 months. Even before Baby #2 entered the picture, I thought that at least two years would be an ideal spacing, because then the older child would be, well, older, and more helpful and independent, and I didn't want to feel overwhelmed with a baby and a toddler.

As the pregnancy progressed, I was a little nervous and apprehensive about how things would work out, but also excited because Jane seemed to be learning and improving by leaps and bounds. Almost overnight, it seemed, she could walk and express herself. Her teeth came in. She covered ground rapidly such that when Ella arrived, Jane was in prime shape to be the older sister. If we'd waited until we thought Jane was old enough, by the time the little sibling arrived Jane might have been past all that and firmly and selfishly ensconced in the middle of her own little world.

More and more I see how perfect the timing was. Jane is going through issues right now that I would not have wanted to deal with when I was exhausted with the pregnancy. It was easier carrying around a 15-month-old Jane, three months pregnant, than it would be to carry a 2-year-old Jane now. Jane is learning so much now and forming memories so rapidly that she would probably have remembered a time without Ella if there were no younger baby on the scene yet. Although she was a little disoriented by Ella's arrival, she got over that quickly and now accepts Ella into her worldview, without question and without jealousy or resentment. Even though dealing with two little people requires a bit more logistical planning, it's so much easier to help Jane through a challenging task or to get down on her level and play with her if she asks.

So the moral of the story is that God's plans are always better than mine. After all, I thought I wanted to marry a man at least a foot taller than I. Ha! What was I thinking??

It really works!

I saw this post a few days ago and was hardly interested. I already use very ripe bananas in our daily smoothie ritual, and I didn't think that blending frozen bananas was such a great trick. I like bananas moderately well, but they're not my favourite, and I certainly don't care for banana-flavoured ice cream, chewing gum, candy, etc.

But yesterday I thought I'd give it a try. Lo and behold, it does taste just like soft serve ice cream! The banana taste is very mild - I tossed in a couple of frozen strawberries, and it really tasted like strawberry ice cream. Later that night I made some for Michael, and we added chocolate and caramel syrup, and you know what? The 'ice cream' tasted so rich and genuine and creamy that it showed up the fakeness of the syrup! I intend to try it again with cocoa powder and peanut butter, to see if it tastes just like soft serve chocolate peanut butter ice cream.

The trick is to peel the bananas before freezing them. I've tossed whole overripe bananas in the freezer before, and the only thing they are good for is banana bread or muffins - you can't peel them frozen, and when they're thawed they're completely slimy and gross. But frozen already peeled - into the blender they go, and the result is scrumptious. I've discovered my new summer treat.

Jane-isms

Jane: Balloon on a hearth.
Mama: Very good! What colour is the balloon?
Jane: Upside-down!

***************

Looking at pictures of this past weekend, several with Aunt Leah: 'Leah...Leah...two Leahs!'

***************

Pulling at a hairbow: Off!
Mama: Do you want the hairbow off?
Jane: Turn it off!

***************
Jane: Bus! Bus!
Mama: No, that's a truck.
Jane: All gone bus!