Boys tennis season is in full swing (ouch!) and Isaac is playing 2 singles this year. He has had two matches already, losing both: 2-6, 0-6 and 4-6, 4-6. At this rate, he thinks he will win his next match! He loves the game, his fabulous coach, and the fun of being on the team. At supper after the last match he started chuckling, remembering the ride home in the activity bus. He told us this story: Stopped at a stop light, he noticed a businessman in an SUV next to the bus; his window was rolled down. So Isaac opened the bus window and said, “Hi, there, how are you?” Startled, the man answered, “Fine, how are you?” And so began a brief but delightful conversation about high school and tennis. The light changed and traffic began moving again, but a few blocks later, when the man turned to head home, he waved to Isaac. I think meeting Isaac was the highlight of his day. Hearing about it was the highlight of mine!
Saturday, August 28, 2010
Wednesday, August 25, 2010
welcome back...
Jesse moved back from Utah last week; he’ll be starting graduate school in Denver soon. A family tradition is to paint our front picture window with greetings to expected guests, so Hannah painted WELCOME BACK, JESSE! on the window the morning of his arrival. More than one person has commented on it, wondering if we had a special news source, for at first glance they thought it read “WELCOME BACK, JESUS!”
Saturday, August 21, 2010
boundaries
School started again this week. I work as a substitute teachers’ aide in a dozen or so elementary schools, most often one-on-one with special needs children, helping them manage in a regular classroom setting. The hardest thing about my job is learning the boundaries. Each school has their own rules about how to walk in the halls, what is and isn’t allowed on the playground, etc. Add to that the specific boundaries for each child based on their individual limits and capabilities, and it can get a bit confusing, especially when I’m thrust into a situation with no more heads-up than a label: autistic, Down Syndrome, non-verbal, runner, biter… It takes time to learn the boundaries for each child; what tasks I should help with, what tasks they need to do for themselves, how far I can challenge them before it becomes too frustrating. The children generally know what the boundaries are, and they also know that I don’t know what they are, so I need to stay on top of things so I don’t get hoodwinked. I am getting pretty good at reading and adapting to each situation.
I spent the afternoon yesterday with my nearly-three-year-old grand-daughter, Avey. We had a delightful time together but I realized that the hardest thing about Grand-parenting is also learning the boundaries. My efforts to respect her parent-established boundaries left me wondering about such details as: should she wear socks with her crocks, can she be barefoot in the sandbox, does she get a “treat” after lunch? Fortunately, she knows well her boundaries and I detected no effort on her part to hoodwink me. But I did get a lesson in a finer aspect of boundaries, it’s who you know. Twice during the afternoon, not quite sure how lenient I should be, I said, “I don’t think your Mama will like us to do that.” To which she quickly reassured me, “No, but Daddy will!”
I spent the afternoon yesterday with my nearly-three-year-old grand-daughter, Avey. We had a delightful time together but I realized that the hardest thing about Grand-parenting is also learning the boundaries. My efforts to respect her parent-established boundaries left me wondering about such details as: should she wear socks with her crocks, can she be barefoot in the sandbox, does she get a “treat” after lunch? Fortunately, she knows well her boundaries and I detected no effort on her part to hoodwink me. But I did get a lesson in a finer aspect of boundaries, it’s who you know. Twice during the afternoon, not quite sure how lenient I should be, I said, “I don’t think your Mama will like us to do that.” To which she quickly reassured me, “No, but Daddy will!”
Friday, July 23, 2010
booties
These tiny booties are for a premature baby girl who lost her twin brother at birth. Hopefully she'll grow into them soon!
Sunday, July 11, 2010
trust
The story is told of a little blind girl, sitting on her father’s lap during a long train ride. After a few hours a fellow passenger offered to take the little girl on his lap, to give the father a rest. The father consented and lifted his daughter to her new spot. After a while, he asked her, “Do you know who is holding you?” She answered, “No, but you do.” She could rest easy because she trusted that her father would not let her sit with just anyone.
Sometimes in life we go through trials and experiences that we cannot understand. It is a great comfort to imagine our Father asking us, “Do you know why this is happening to you?” And realizing that we can answer with that same trust, “No, but you do.”
Sometimes in life we go through trials and experiences that we cannot understand. It is a great comfort to imagine our Father asking us, “Do you know why this is happening to you?” And realizing that we can answer with that same trust, “No, but you do.”
Monday, June 28, 2010
the gift
Today I am getting my birthday gift: a new tire, for which I will pay half. You see, Saturday evening we decided to drive across town to our favorite Dutch bakery for one of my favorite treats, Napoleons. Isaac drove. On the way home he was trying to merge into traffic and was watching the traffic instead of the road. He jumped the curb, blew a tire, and sent the hubcap flying down into a ravine. Hannah dashed after the hubcap while Isaac and I surveyed the damage. Wow! We would need to change the tire.
The kids set to work and it was amazing to watch them. They cooperated so well, taking turns with the wrench and jack. Although it was hot, and we all got pretty dirty, no one was cross. No one got frustrated or angry. There was even chatting and laughing! When a gentleman stopped to see if we needed help, Hannah thanked him and said, “We’re just changing the tire; we can handle it.” I was very impressed! The work was done in no time and we cleaned up as best we could with tissues and a bottle of water.
Isaac was very apologetic and offered to pay half of the new tire. He asked if I would drive the rest of the way home. We had a simple supper and quiet evening together enjoying our Napoleons. None of us was worse for the experience; we were all probably better off. Isaac learned a few great lessons, Hannah grew in confidence, and I, well, I think it was the best birthday gift of all, watching my amazing children in action!
The kids set to work and it was amazing to watch them. They cooperated so well, taking turns with the wrench and jack. Although it was hot, and we all got pretty dirty, no one was cross. No one got frustrated or angry. There was even chatting and laughing! When a gentleman stopped to see if we needed help, Hannah thanked him and said, “We’re just changing the tire; we can handle it.” I was very impressed! The work was done in no time and we cleaned up as best we could with tissues and a bottle of water.
Isaac was very apologetic and offered to pay half of the new tire. He asked if I would drive the rest of the way home. We had a simple supper and quiet evening together enjoying our Napoleons. None of us was worse for the experience; we were all probably better off. Isaac learned a few great lessons, Hannah grew in confidence, and I, well, I think it was the best birthday gift of all, watching my amazing children in action!
Sunday, June 27, 2010
happy birthday
Many years ago I read about a very industrious and productive girl, Rhoda Richards, who wove thirteen yards of cloth on the day she celebrated her thirteenth birthday (August 8th, 1797). She has been in the back of my mind all these years, making me wonder at each of my birthdays, what I could “do” to celebrate each passing year.
Today is my 57th birthday and all I can do is chuckle to myself at the large number I now have to work with. Weaving fabric is hardly a possibility, although I could probably manage a length with 57 threads… I suppose I could make 57 cookies or play 57 songs on the piano, although Rhoda is probably tsk-tsk-ing me, remembering the 57 loaves of bread she made the day she turned 57 (or whatever she did that day).
Birthdays give me the urge to quantify myself, evaluate what I’ve done that year, measure my life against what I’d hoped it would be, what I think I could/should have done. But not this year. For some reason I am looking at things differently. I am having trouble quantifying my life, I can’t even think of any major accomplishments this year. I am at a loss.
It occurs to me that perhaps that is the very thing that this year has given me, a new perspective about myself. There is a great peace in coming to the point where one doesn’t need to measure their own value, they accept who they are, appreciating the good and doing the best they can with the not-so-good. After 57 years, I am finally there. I am happy just to be alive. Each day is full of joy. I am content to love and be loved. I am grateful, hopeful. I will celebrate this day just enjoying myself, whatever takes place. I may even have a 57-minute nap!
Today is my 57th birthday and all I can do is chuckle to myself at the large number I now have to work with. Weaving fabric is hardly a possibility, although I could probably manage a length with 57 threads… I suppose I could make 57 cookies or play 57 songs on the piano, although Rhoda is probably tsk-tsk-ing me, remembering the 57 loaves of bread she made the day she turned 57 (or whatever she did that day).
Birthdays give me the urge to quantify myself, evaluate what I’ve done that year, measure my life against what I’d hoped it would be, what I think I could/should have done. But not this year. For some reason I am looking at things differently. I am having trouble quantifying my life, I can’t even think of any major accomplishments this year. I am at a loss.
It occurs to me that perhaps that is the very thing that this year has given me, a new perspective about myself. There is a great peace in coming to the point where one doesn’t need to measure their own value, they accept who they are, appreciating the good and doing the best they can with the not-so-good. After 57 years, I am finally there. I am happy just to be alive. Each day is full of joy. I am content to love and be loved. I am grateful, hopeful. I will celebrate this day just enjoying myself, whatever takes place. I may even have a 57-minute nap!
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