Hippity Hoppity

We celebrated Western Easter with my sister and niece at their church before our Spring Break (our Orthodox Easter isn't until next weekend), and the girls wore their cute matching dresses.  As we were taking photos before church, we saw an amazing grasshopper--it was so huge!

After church, the girls hunted eggs and got SO many!  And Flanna was thrilled to get to see the "Real!" Easter Bunny.  It was such a hot day for an egg hunt!  You just never know in the south--will it be freezing or burning up on Easter?  I kept ushering the kiddos into the shade because I hadn't thought ahead to bring sunscreen.  I know, I'm such a worrier!  But I didn't want them to get a sunburn right before our beach trip!  (Oh, and Speaking of beach trip...I'll post Spring Break pics soon!)

How have you celebrated Easter this year?

Start with Their Interests

A few weeks ago, Flannery noticed on the back of one of her Barbie books that there were some books we didn't own that weren't illustrated, but that instead had photos of Barbies in different settings to create scenes for the book.   That was all it took for her to dream up her own book, with her own photos of different scenes.  

To make her dream a reality, I took my camera, set it to "digital macro" mode (whatever that means--good for close-ups of small things), and took photos of each "scene" she wanted us to capture.  We set the stage on her bed in her room, and she adjusted the Barbies until they were "just right" before I took each photo.  She was so cute--like a little director--telling me just how she wanted the scene to look and often wanting us to take several shots so she could choose just the right one.  In the end, we chose the best photos from the ones we had taken, and I printed them with lines below them (just using Power Point) so that she could write in the story later.  It took her about a week to finish her story (working before and after school), and she fussed over and edited the order and flow of the photos several times until it seemed perfect to her.  

In the end, I think her story was pretty cohesive and interesting.  It was about a couple who loved their dog so much that they had him in their wedding.  Then, he got sick, had to go to the vet, was cured by eating a special type of dog food, and went running with some horses once he was better.  

I think if I had dreamed up this activity on my own, and tried to get her interested in writing her own little book, she probably would've never worked so diligently on it.  But this was her own idea, her own vision, her own little dream--and she was so motivated to see it to fruition.  

So, there you go.  The researchers are right when they say, "Follow the child's lead" in learning.  When they say, "Build upon their interests," it really does lead to a whole new level of focus and motivation.  

So, start with their interests!  And see what beautiful surprise you will get.  

How have you "followed a child's lead" this week?

Create "I Love You" Rituals

I'm reading a book called "I Love You Rituals" right now that is really interesting.  It gives lots of ideas of ways to increase your bond/attachment and trust with young children.  I'm really enjoying it when I have a spare second to read it (which hasn't been all that often these past weeks).

Anyway, one of the little "I Love You Rituals" the author suggests is the "What did you bring home from school today?" ritual.  It goes like this:

When you pick your child up or first see your child after school, you ask, "What did you bring home from school today?"  But then instead of focusing on objects or clothing, you describe the child's physical or personality characteristics.  For example, today I told Flanna:  "You brought your long dark eyelashes.  You brought your rosy pink cheeks.  You brought your golden eyes.  You brought your hair that curls up at the ends.  You brought a scratch on your chin.  You brought two freckles on the back of your arm.  You brought your sweet smile and laugh.  You brought your kind heart and spirit.", etc.  The point of the game is to help your child feel very specifically noticed, regarded, and loved.

I've played it a few times with Flannery this week, and she has been so cute, offering up other ideas of things she has brought home (boo-boos, new band aids, rocks for her rock collection, etc.).   And I really do think it has helped her feel less rushed from school when I pick her up and more positively noticed and appreciated.

Now, if someone can just write a book about how to make kids fall asleep before 9 p.m. after the time change!   I am ready for things to get back to normal!



How do you make the people you love feel noticed and special?

Celebrate!

Flannery had two birthday parties on the same day on St. Patrick's Day--it was a little hectic!  But she had a great time at both!  The first was a princess party for a friend from her class, and the next was a jumping party at a "bouncing house" for the son of my dear friend, Randi.    Flanna got all dolled up with makeup and nail polish at the first party, and then went and jumped for hours at the second.  

Poor thing, she was sooooo exhausted by the end of the day!

the beautiful birthday girl

cousins, getting all grown up now. 

birthday boy!

Do fun times tend to come in waves for you, too?  It seems like we go months without anything on the calendar, and then suddenly everything hits at once!

Digging in the Dirt

Flannery has been helping me get our back yard garden plot ready for planting.  We raked one weekend, weeded one weekend, and cultivated the soil one weekend.  But, we've been so busy since then that we've only planted some flowers so far--I'd been hoping to have so much more planted already!  But I'm holding out hope that life and work will calm down a bit soon so that we can get some other more exciting plants in the ground.   The good news is that we've found a gazillion earthworms whom Flanna has named and studied and grown to love.  Perhaps that means the soil here will be fertile!

What project are you starting?

Experience Nature: New Growth

Oh, my!  There are signs of new growth all around at our house!   We've really been enjoying watching Spring take hold here.

This weekend, we found a robin's nest in a tree, and there were four tiny gorgeous blue eggs inside! The mama robin protects her eggs and squawks at us if we get close, so I had to snap these photos really quickly--she really means business!

Also, the little parade rose bush I planted back around Valentine's day has really taken off!  I planted two of them, and, alas, only one remains.  But that one is growing by leaps and bounds each week.

The bulbs we planted are also beginning to sprout in our front yard.  I'm hoping we'll get some good colorful flowers from them!  I think these are our gladiolas coming up.

I wish I had captured our azaleas last week--they were so full of blooms!  It's so nice to drive around in Atlanta and see all the azaleas and dogwoods blooming.  I had no idea Atlanta could be so beautiful!

What new growth are you experiencing right now?  

Do What Spring Does

I've had this stirring in my heart for some time now, to be brave enough to write about marriage here on this blog-a-blog.  I've been trying to ignore the stirring, because I think marriage relationships are so individual and personal, and really, I'm no expert on what might work for anyone else.  But the more I talk to my friends and coworkers about their relationships with their partners, the more my heart keeps pushing me to just start the conversation here.  So, here goes nothing.  :)  
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I drove by a cherry tree on Winonna Drive today that was just beginning to bloom.  And it reminded me of my all time favorite, most inspiring quote ever about marriage:

"I want to do with you, what Spring does with the cherry trees."  -- Deb Talan

This is a line from a song written by one of my all time favorite artists.  And it is the single most meaningful phrase that I've ever applied to my marriage relationship.  The idea that, just as Spring renews the cherry trees, just as Spring brings forth new growth on the spindly ends of gray branches, just as Spring causes there to be new life where there was just dormant quiet all winter--so, too, can we bring about renewal in our relationships with our spouses.

Also, I love the idea that Spring renews cherry trees every year.  It does not skip a year.  There is no year when Spring just decides to stop working at it and let the cherry tree lie barren all summer.  So, too, are we to be vigilant about working to renew our marriage relationships regularly, consistently.

I think that too often, we have unrealistic expectations of our relationships.  We expect them to keep running smoothly and beautifully no matter how much we neglect them. We expect our partners to love us unconditionally no matter how little time, attention, care, or concern we show them.  We expect our marriage to take a back seat to our careers, our children, our friends, our hobbies, our extended families.

And then, too, the moment it becomes clear that this is impossible--that our marriage cannot flourish without at least some attention and focus--we begin to feel anxious or guilty.  To question the quality of the marriage.  To wonder why our marriage needs help.  To look with jealousy at friends with happy marriages, who never seem to have to work at it.

But that's a lie we should not entertain.  Anyone with a good, solid marriage works at it.

Anyone with a good, solid marriage realizes that we must renew our relationship with our spouse regularly.  That we must dig our heels in and talk about important things and be honest and open and work hard to make a connection.  That we must be like Spring, not letting conflict or disconnection keep the cherry tree dormant and gray--but instead allowing a good cleansing rain, a warm sun, a hard conversation, a weekend away, to work quiet miracles.

I remember once, I read a book about the "Four Seasons of Marriage" (by the author of the "Five Love Languages" book), hoping that it would clarify this vision I had of how marriage relationships cycle from intense romance, to affectionate love, to respect and admiration, and on back to intense romance, etc.  But instead, the book actually scared the bejezus out of me!  It described the four seasons of marriage as:

Spring:  renewing, hopeful in love, excited about the future.
Summer:  happy and in love, connected, contented.
Fall:  becoming disconnected, disillusioned.
Winter:  completely out of touch, disconnected, living two separate lives in the same house.

The author actually talked about the grave danger your marriage was in if you were in the fall or winter phase of marriage, and how most marriages in the winter season of marriage would end in divorce if nothing drastic and significant changed.  Scary stuff, huh?  (By the way, the author has an online quiz you can take to get a general idea of which season your marriage is in if you're interested. But don't freak out if you're in fall or winter!  Just keep reading!)

But I can see how this is true.  If most of us think that marriages should just work well without a lot of focus and attention paid to them, then of course we are not going to get back to the Spring and Summer seasons of the cycle.  It turns out that not many of us realized when we got married that when hard times come, actual action has to be taken to renew the connection, or Spring won't come.

So, if I want to do with my husband what Spring does to the cherry trees?  If I want to renew our relationship, grow our connection, change with him, get better at this marriage thing?  I've got to take action.  I've got to be Spring.  I've got to work hard to make the connection.  Seek out the rain showers; call on the sun to shine on us.  And not just once, but every year.  Consistently.

What's funny, is that it sounds so serious and intense here.  But it's the best responsibility I've ever taken on, actually.  Because doing what Spring does--taking time to renew my connection with my husband--is the most rewarding and fun way I spend my time these days.  And giving myself permission to make date nights and loving actions and deep conversations a priority, really just lets me have fun with my true love, my best friend, again.

And when you're having fun?  That's when you know that Spring has come.




What about you?   How do you work to renew your connection with your partner?   Do you have a regular system in place to help yourself focus intentionally on your relationship?


(Also, I'd love your input on whether this was interesting to you, or whether you'd rather not have me blather on about my ideas about marriage here.  Please comment if you have a second and let me know what you think!)

Speechy Sunday: Read a Book a Hundred Times if they Ask

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(Oops...this somehow didn't post yesterday, so I'm posting it now, on...er, uh, Speechy Monday. I know you'll forgive me.)

I remember when Flannery was tiny, she always wanted us to read the same book to her every night.  The one about the dogs.

And so, we read it.  And read it.  And read it.  And pieces of it got torn.  And we taped them on.  And they got torn again.  So we bought another copy.  And then another copy.  I'm pretty sure we  bought 3 copies by the time she was 2.  And every time we read that dog book, she was just so happy.  

I remember at the time, that there were nights when I'd secretly want to hide the dog book.  I wanted to read some beautiful rhyming book like "Moon Song," or something with gorgeous illustrations like "On the Night you were Born."

But what kept me from hiding the dog book, is that I knew the research on sharing books with infants and toddlers.  Favorite books are a learning device.  Reading the same book repeatedly to a child helps the child develop strong and secure understandings of the vocabulary in that book.  Instead of learning a little about a lot of books, Flannery--by asking us over and over to read the same book to her every night--was learning a lot about one book.  She was learning (in great depth!) about all the things that dogs do, the different types of dogs, sounds dogs make, types of fur dogs have, etc.

And if I had hidden her beloved dog book, if I had insisted on novelty--a new book every night--then she would've missed out on forming those lovely deep and strong connections to the vocabulary in her favorite book.  She wouldn't have had umpteen experiences pretending to "howl," or "scratch," or "shake" to dry off after a bath.  She wouldn't have had a gazillion chances to pet the "fluffy" dog or to scrunch up her nose when the author pointed out that "all dogs poop."   Maybe she wouldn't have realized so quickly that cats and dogs are usually "enemies," by lifting the flap a zillion times to discover a cat high up in a tree trying to "escape" from the dogs.

So, there you go.  You have my permission--as a speech language pathologist, birth to three specialist, language & literacy coach to early childhood teachers, and also just a regular mom--to read your child's favorite book to them as many times as they ask.  To think of it as "building depth of knowledge" for your child. To stop feeling guilty that you're not exposing them to something new and different and educational every night.

Because, really?  The best education your child will ever get?  Is when a caring adult sets aside his or her own agenda, follows your child's interests, and settles in to read their beloved "dog book" the fifteen hundredth time they ask.





What book did you just love to read over and over again as a child?  

Create a Secret Code

I remember in elementary school, my friends and I often formed our own "clubs."  Babysitters' club, jump rope club, dance club, singers' club, pig latin club, and yes, even a "witch club" (which wasn't a "mean girls" kind of thing--we actually pretended we had magical powers.  What can I say?  It was fourth grade.)  And one of the best things I remember about being in these little clubs was having a secret handshake or secret code words that only we understood.  It took our friendship up a notch to share these little "inside jokes." 

For instance, one of the clubs I had with a few girlfriends that rode my bus, was a pig latin club.  We would speak only pig latin during our meetings on the bus, and whenever we saw one another in the hallway, lunchroom, or library at our elementary school, we would have to secretly touch our noses (to reference the pig nose idea) without anyone else noticing.  It was a silly thing, but it was great fun to make that connection with one another as our classes' lines passed one another silently in the hallway. 

I was thinking about those little things today while I was home yet again with my sick kiddo, because I had recently read this neat blog post.  And it inspired me to create this sort of "inside joke" thing with Flannery more often. 

So, because she was sick and coughing a lot, I decided that we should come up with codes or signals for what she wanted when she wasn't feeling like talking.  Together, we decided that if she touched her throat, that meant she wanted a cough drop, and if she put her whole hand over her throat, that meant she wanted a drink.  She got a big kick out of those little signals, and it was a sweet little way to throw in something novel during a very boring day spent at home feeling yucky. 

I also remember that one time when Flanna was 2 or so, and her cousin was 5, we had bananas as a snack on vacation, and I decided that every time they wanted more bananas for snack, they could just make a monkey noise (you know, "ooh-ooh-ooh"), and I'd know what they wanted.  They ate SO many bananas that week!  And it was really a sweet way to promote a lighthearted connection for us. 

It also calls to mind the many notes I used to write back and forth with my best friends in middle and high school.  They were chock full of inside jokes and codes.  "The boy," "Martha, Edna, Mildred, Agnes," "a t-shirt," "the chosen ones," "bridge club," -- these were little phrases that only a few of us understood, and I think it brought us closer together to share them. 

Anyway, I think I'm going to keep working on these little "inside jokes/secret codes" for my own little family.  Maybe something like -- every time I squeeze your hand, that means I'm proud of you.  Or, every time I wink at you, that means I love you.  Or, whenever you need a hug, you can just say "My shoulders are cold," or something like that. Can't you just picture your child grown up as a teenager not wanting to say they need a hug, but being willing to say, "My shoulders are cold."?  Maybe I'm dreaming, but I think it could be sweet. 



What about you?  Do you think secret codes or inside jokes are silly/cheesy, or kind of fun?  

Funny Flanna Quotes

Flanna and her Aunt Jessica

First of all, thank you for all the love and kind words about my sweet little client.  You guys are the best!

Second, please forgive me if I am incoherent while writing this.  Flannery has been sick, and so I've not slept well in at least 3 days.  Last night was the worst--she had a really high fever that got scary in the wee hours of the morning.  I took her to the pediatrician this morning, who diagnosed her with a sinus infection, which I am not sure is right, but hey, who am I to judge?  At least she gave Flanna a prescription.

Anyway, the good thing about having a sick child is that I had a chance to hang out with her all day and to listen to her adorable stories and comments while not:  a) driving or b) cooking dinner (which is what I'm normally doing when she says adorable things, and then I don't have the extra hands to write them down.)  Today, though, I tried to remember to write down some of the hits.  And there were many:

1.  While trying to wiggle her top tooth (which is not at all loose) :  "Mom, I can't wait to lose a tooth.  Because then I'll get money to buy toys with.  But not this one, not this razor tooth (pointing to her canine).  When I lose this baby, I'm keeping it, because it's really cool and pointy."

2.  Telling a story about a sick princess:  "Then, the doctor said to the princess, "Princess, you have appetitis!  And you need to take this medicine to cure it!"  So the princess took the medicine every day at breakfast, lunch, and dinner, and then her appetitis went away." 

3.   Continuing her story about a sick princess:  "The princess's friend, a dolphin, swailed over from his island. " 
me:  "Swailed?  Do you mean sailed?"
Flanna:  "No, mom.  Suh-wailed.  Swailed.  It's a type of swimming dolphins do.  Anyway, he swailed over from his island and came to see the princess."
(She almost had me convinced that swailing was possibly a real thing.  Turns out, it is.  But it doesn't mean swimming.)

4.  Chatting about the pizza we were having for lunch:  "P.P.S., mom, I only want cheese on mine." 

5.  Getting ready for bed, she opens her closet door:  "I need to pick out my party dress for tomorrow."
me:  "Flannery, you're staying home sick tomorrow with Grandma."
Flannery:  "Well, yeah, but I'm watching Beauty and the Beast, so I need to wear my party dress."

6.  Making a list of people to invite to her birthday party (which is not for 8 more months, mind you):  Flanna:  "Guess who I'm inviting to my party, mom?"
me: "all your cousins?"
Flanna:  "No.  Well, yes, them, but also--worms!  I'm inviting worms to my party!  Because I love worms, you know that."

7.  In the bathtub:
Flanna:  "Mom, who owns America?"
Me:  "No one does, sweetie.  We all own little bits of land, but no one person owns America."
Flanna:  "But what about the President?"
Me:  "Well, he owns his own house and land, but not everyone else's."
Flanna:  "No, really, mom, who owns America?"

8.  Snuggling before bed:
Flanna:  "When you get to heaven, you're going to have to ask God to make your hair red again."
Me:  "Why?"
Flanna:  "So I'll recognize you when I get there.  That's how I recognize you, is by your hair."

9.  Getting pajamas on:
Flanna:  "Mom, how do we make slime?"
Me:  "huh?"
Flanna:  "You know, mucus?"
Me:  "Oh, I'm not sure.  I'll have to look that up."

10.  Setting up her DVD player with her Beauty & the Beast movie this morning:
me:  "Sweetie, let's set you up so you can watch the movie in your bed instead of on the floor."
Flanna:  "But mom, I can't dance on the bed."
me:  "Well, yes, but you don't usually dance while you watch movies, right?"
Flanna:  "But this time, I'm going to dance.  The whole time."

11.  As we drove past a city bus on the way to get her prescription  (OK, so I was driving for this one, but amazingly, I remembered it anyway!): 
 "When I grow up, I'm going to be a bus driver.  And people will have to call me "Your Highness" when they get on the bus.  I'll be a princess-artist-bus-driver.  And when I'm done driving the bus, I'll park it at home, and will go inside and do my art."

12.  Reading a story about Jonah & the Whale:
me:  "Then the whale spat Jonah out of his mouth onto the beach.  And the next time God asked Jonah to go to Ninevah, he obeyed God and went."
Flanna:  "But I think he still didn't want to.  Look at his face."
(and she was right--the illustration showed a pretty reluctant Jonah--I think I just changed the subject-- Not sure what to say to that!?)

13.  Looking at an illustration of the solar system in a book:  "I don't think stars are really white.  The people who drew these pictures must not have known that real stars are rainbow colors."  (I actually did look that one up.  And you know what?  She's right!)

 So, there you go, folks.  A glimpse into everyday conversation with Flanna Banana.  If only I always had my pen at the ready...her creative little brain is always coming up with interesting ways to look at the world.  



What made you smile or laugh today? 

Build Quality of Life

One of my former clients passed away today. 

A sweet, spunky little bundle of energy who lit up a room with her laugh and her silly sense of humor.  She was only a year older than Flannery. 

I won't use her name here to protect her family's privacy.  But I have to say--this little kiddo was one of my favorites.  I know we're not supposed to have those.  But there are just some clients I really "click" with, and she was one of them.  She loved dress up, and playing pretend, and laying on her (amazingly good natured!) dog, and going outside in the rain.  She was working on using "am" in sentences, and would say, "I running, I winning!" until I prompted her to say, "I AM running, I AM winning!"...which was just never as much fun to shout, I think. 

One of the things I remember wanting to get out of our sessions, was helping her to play in a warm and successful way with her sister.  My hope was that by teaching them fun games to play together (that also gave my client practice using the language structures I targeted in therapy), we would not only help expand her language--we would also improve her quality of life.   It warms my heart to remember all the sweet times we spent together--my client, her sister, and me--making art projects, playing pretend, dressing up like princesses and movie stars, pretending to be powerful monsters or dinosaurs.  And we still focused on our speech goals--and made some good progress, I might add!  I remember that at times, her family would ask if I'd like some time to just work with my client alone without her sister.  But the look on my client's face when her sister walked in the room and sat down to play with us was worth a zillion checks of data showing mastery on language goals.  For those 30 minutes three times a week, we built more than grammatically correct sentences--we built quality of life. 

And what a quality of life she had.  A loving, strong family.  Friends and neighbors who would drop everything to help out if they needed a hand.  Classmates and teachers who loved her.  A medical team that tried everything to keep her illness at bay--a gazillion experts consulting on her case, progressive doctors leading a valiant fight, countless hospital stays with nurses who became like family, two bone marrow transplants, and who knows how many other procedures.  And throughout it all, there was always someone by her side--family members & friends rotating in and out to keep her feeling safe and loved. 

My life was broadened by knowing her.  My appreciation for all the little moments with my own family grew deeper as her situation reminded me not to take anything for granted.  Her strength amidst pain and unpredictability made me realize how small my own problems really were. 

And now, her death. 

It is horrible and dark and wrong.

It leaves such a wrenching in my heart, thinking of her parents, her sister, her grandparents, having to return home from the hospital without her.  Having to live out the rest of their lives, without her.

Such a separation must be unbearable.

But this.  This is why Jesus came to us.  To save us from this darkness, this chasm.  This separation from the ones we love who have died. 

He came to trample down death, by death.  He broke the chains that would have kept us apart with no hope of reunion. 

And this is important. 

In a time of political correctness and openness and tolerance, I admit that I hesitate to say that there remain a few absolutes.  But then I remember my grandmother's brave last words to her sister.  "I want to know that you all love Jesus, so I can see you in heaven one day."   When faced with death, my grandma's only fear was that her family might not know what was absolute. 

My client's family has exceptional trust that she is in heaven.  I have exceptional trust that they will see her again.  And in the meantime, I imagine, I try to really picture...an amazingly beautiful quality of life for her, as she gets to experience the fullness of a life finally without pain, finally without suffering. 



Who do you love to picture up in heaven, no longer suffering, but now perhaps praying to ease your suffering instead?  I am rather sure that my Grandma Norma has interceded for me many times in this life, and I also somehow feel a connection to my husband's grandfather "Pop."   And now, my sweet little client.  My sweet, sweet little client.  May her memory be eternal. 

Marking the Passage of Time

At the park yesterday, Flannery found a stack of logs on top of which she declared herself to be the "Queen of All the Playground!"    The logs were newly cut and perfect for counting the rings that mark the tree's growth each year.  So, we counted, and the tree was over 40 years old.  Some of the years were obviously years of bounty and moisture, when the tree grew a good bit, and other years looked like they were perhaps drought years, because the rings were thinner.

It made me think about how our life is so much like that in retrospect.  Years of bounty, ease, health.  Seasons of illness, fear, grief.  Some years we grow so much.  And other years, we just hang on for dear life hoping to make it through intact.

I hope that one day, my daughter will look back on this childhood of hers as years of "thick ringed" growth.  As much as our life has been at times uncertain--with Robi job-hunting, and me being sick, and being stretched for money and time, and figuring out life in a new city--I really think that these years with Flannery home with us are "bounty years."  It's such a beautiful thing to get to watch her grow and learn, and to be able to be a part of her everyday.  I know it won't be like that forever, and she'll be off to college and making her own life in the blink of an eye.  As it should be.

But for now, I'm tracing my fingers on the rough rings of a tree trunk.  Listening to Flanna hum a Valentine song.  Watching the sunlight stream through her hair.   Marking the passage of time.

And trying to hold all these things in my heart.

Has the past year been a year of thin or thick ringed growth for you?   Does time seem to move quickly or slowly for you at this point in your life? 

Give Proofs of Love

My husband is a much better gift-giver than I am.  He is always thoughtful and personalizes gifts in a way that I feel very considered and special.  For Valentine's Day, he got me fudge hearts and some roses, but not just your ordinary vase of roses--some cool mini parade rose-bushes that I can plant outside later.  I let them sit outside yesterday to give them some full sun, and our dog Padme was so interested in them.  They must smell like some sort of food, hah.

Annnyway.  My husband's thoughtful gift giving is just one of the ways he so often gives "proofs of love" (I stole that phrase from Gretchen Rubin).   Even though I already know he loves me, it still warms my heart to hear him say so, or to receive a special gift or note from him.

I think about my daughter, too, that she often swells with pride upon getting "proofs" of our love.  Special cuddles while watching Phineas & Ferb together, extra snuggle time before bed, little thumbs ups or winks when she's being brave on the playground, and especially hearing us say what we love about her--these little things leave her smiling as she plays or gets ready for bed.

It's not enough for us to assume that everyone we love knows just how much we love them and what we love best about them.  We need to give proofs of love, give proofs of appreciation, give proofs of thought and consideration to our loved ones.

I'm working on it, and aspiring to one day match my hubby in gift-giving ability.  Or even outdo him!  Ah, now I'm just dreaming.

What about you?  Do you appreciate proofs of love?  Do you find it easy or difficult to give proofs of love to those you care about?  I think some people can feel like giving proofs of love can be little forced or fake-ish, especially when tied to a commercialized holiday--but I don't think the receiver ever feels that way.  What do you think?    

Enter into One Another's Interests

Our hotel room artwork just happened to be
a flyer for one of the bands we saw.  Very neat.

When I'm coaching teachers about how best to build the language skills of children, I usually always start by discussing ways to "enter into the child's interests" or to "follow the child's lead" and "engage the child by focusing on their interests."  When building a relationship with a child (which is crucial before you can start trying to teach them anything!), creating experiences of shared enjoyment is really important.  And even more important is the idea of "entering into the child's interest" (not forcing our ideas of fun on the child).  Entering into a child's interest really builds connection.

The same is true of building or strengthening relationships with adults.  When we enter into our spouse's interests, for example, it builds connection.

It's funny, though, how often in my marriage relationship, I forget that I need to try to create experiences of shared enjoyment with my husband by entering into his interests.  We're lucky enough to have frequent date nights, since we have family close by, but too often, I think I plan date nights around what I find fun--dinner out, a nice long talk, a funny movie.  But really, he loves unusual music, and novel/interesting experiences, and learning new things.

So, I've been trying to enter into his interests more.  This weekend, we took a cooking class together.  We learned something new (how to make rack of lamb!), and it was sooo yummy.  Then, we went to Athens and saw one of his favorite artists,  Jeff Mangum (from Neutral Milk Hotel) play.  It was gorgeous and thought-provoking music, and we had a great time.  A connection-building time.

The cool thing about entering into someone else's interest, is that usually the experience actually makes us happy, too.  Not because we change ourselves or our own interests, but because the experience usually builds connection, and social connection is key to happiness.



Feeling disconnected from someone you care about?  How can you try to enter into their interests this week?

Experience Nature

a Camelia tree by our driveway

One of the things that has made me happiest this week has been to see the insanely early blooms on our trees.  I think getting to see some rejuvenation in nature has really helped me feel like I'm healing and making a fresh start.  It's been energizing, even, I think.

our neighbor's tulip tree (Japanese magnolia) - my favorite!

Hopefully the cold weekend ahead won't ruin the beauty all around!  Although, if we were to perhaps get snow, I guess I'd be okay with the trade.



What brought you a bit of happiness this week?

Time Heals all Wounds

First, I want to apologize for not updating this blog at all since my resolutions post.  Crazy, crazy craziness ensued shortly after I wrote that.  

Craziness to the tune of a stomach bug that just wouldn't go away.   Craziness to the tune of me going to my general practitioner and asking him to figure out how to help me get past said stomach bug.  Craziness to the tune of my brilliant doctor immediately recognizing the need for specialists.  

Craziness to the tune of my doctor sending me straight to the hospital.  To meet with a surgeon.  A wonderful, grandfatherly and kind surgeon, but a surgeon nonetheless.  

Craziness to the tune of having a CT scan that revealed an intestinal obstruction.  The same type of difficulty I'd had 5 years ago, when I was pregnant, which had landed me in the hospital for 4 weeks being totally IV fed until Flannery was born.  Luckily back then, the obstruction cleared with time and GI rest. I wasn't so lucky this time.  

This time around, I needed surgery.  There was a strap of scar tissue from a surgery I had had as a baby, that had wrapped around part of my intestine, pulling it and twisting it so that nothing could get through.  The surgeon--that kind, grandfatherly surgeon--he snipped the scar tissue, took a few photos of the before and after, and stitched me back up.  

And then more craziness ensued.  Recovery.  

Pain.  Nausea.  Morphine.  Itchy side effects.  A crazy haze of pain and darkness and fear.  With waves of relief interspersed here and there.  A desperate alone feeling.   Fuzzy vision.  Prodding nurses trying to collect blood from unwilling veins.  Kind nurses telling me about their three children.  Manipulative nurses trading meds for walks in the halls.  My calm husband always there beside me, sleeping on the strange chair-bed each night.  Harsh fluorescent lights.  IV poles beeping.  Care that seemed so violent sometimes.  But always with waves of relief interspersed here and there.  

And then, somehow, the fog cleared.  And I was myself again.  I got to come home.  I ate warm broth my mom made from scratch.  I stopped the pain meds.  I started understanding conversations again.  My vision cleared.  I was able to read again.  My brain could follow along when I read paragraphs.  My husband's nervous forehead stopped looking so pinched.  My daughter started forgetting to be careful when she hugged me.  My mom sat down and watched a show with me and laughed a bit again.  We all finally exhaled.  

And then, today, I drove again.  Not too far.  Just to renew the car tag with my hubby.  And then, we picked up Flanna from school, and my husband took us all out to dinner.  It was breezy and cool and crisp out.  I wore jeans for the first time in almost a month.  I had pasta and shrimp.  My daughter drew pictures and played on her iPod during dinner.  We were just your average family.  I was just your average mom in baggy jeans.  

And that, my friend?  Is how time heals all wounds.  

What wound are you healing from?  What has helped you through the healing process and back into life again?  For me, it was going outside, seeing the japanese magnolias blooming, watching my husband have endearing conversations with our kiddo, and thinking about work projects again.  Those little things pulled me up out of lethargy and toward recovery.  And time.  I know that time played a big part, as well.