Following Mom

I'm having my English 101 students write descriptive essays next week. They are supposed to describe a family member, and in doing so, their descriptions should explain more about their family and about themselves. I am one of those teachers who would never make an assignment that I couldn't do myself, so I sat down today to write my own descriptive essay. I'll be posting this one as an example on my class blog http://olympicenglish101.blogspot.com/ next week, but I'm giving it a trial run here. Let me know what you think. Does it accomplish the goal? In describing one person in detail, does it also provide a little something more about the family?

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She is a very pretty lady with cornflower blue eyes and blond hair naturally highlighted with streaks of silver. She smiles and her face lights up with a joy that is contagious. Her last birthday, in August, celebrated 62 years of life. She is a wife, a mother, a grandmother, a sister, a daughter, a friend. She taught second graders to love Beverly Cleary and to write in curly-cue cursive for twenty-five years. She was always that teacher who wore the shirt embroidered with scarecrows in the fall, the vest embroidered with Santas in the winter, and the earrings with tiny flowers on them in the spring.

Today my mother wakes up and rubs her eyes against the harsh morning light. She walks to the kitchen by sheer force of habit. My dad, her husband of forty years, meets her there and hands her a handful of pills, some small and in varying shades of pastel, a few that are large and beige. She smiles at him, kisses him good-morning, and swallows her pills with the cup of water that he hands her. Then she stands in the middle of her cheerful kitchen and looks out the window. She stands there until her husband hands her a cup of coffee and leads her by the hand to the kitchen table where he has placed a bowl Raisin Bran, because she loves raisins.

After breakfast she carries her dishes to the sink but she can’t figure out how to turn on the water. She fiddles with the faucet for a few moments, twisting, turning, pushing. Like magic, the water begins to flow and she rinses her dishes with hands that are bare. Suddenly she realizes her hands are bare. She leaves the water running and goes in search of her wedding band.

Her husband comes in from a quick trip to the garbage can and finds the sink filling up with water. He shuts off the flow and goes in search of her. He finds her in their bedroom. She’s sitting on the bed wearing a shirt but no pants, and yet she’s trying to figure out how to put on her shoes. She keeps putting her left foot into the right shoe. Over and over… and over again she puts the wrong foot into the wrong shoe. He rummages through her closet until he finds some navy blue slacks and then helps her get them on and buttoned before slipping her shoes onto the right feet. The shoes are red leather, her favorite.

Later she stands in front of the mirror in her bathroom and combs through her silvery hair. She suddenly notices that her left hand is bare and, hair brush in hand, she goes in search of her wedding band.

Her husband finds a hair brush in the kitchen sink. He stands at the sink and looks out into the backyard where she is pulling up clumps of weeds from around the old storage shed. He watches, making sure she doesn’t wander too far away. She pulls and tugs for awhile and then carries her scraps to the garbage can behind the house.

A few minutes later she walks back into the kitchen wearing only one red shoe. The other foot is bare, except for the dirt and grass clinging to her unpainted toes. He raises his eyebrows at her but wordlessly walks outdoors and searches the grass for the shoe. He finds it near the garbage can and carries it back to the house.

He finds her on hands and knees with an old dishtowel wiping up the muddy footprints from her blue and white checkered kitchen floor. She says indignantly, “Someone tracked mud right through the kitchen!” She doesn’t notice that her left foot bears the damning evidence. He doesn’t point it out to her.

Later they sit together in the living room and spoon up the potato soup that he made for lunch. Again she notices her bare left hand and says to him, “Oh no! Where is my wedding ring?” He reaches over and pats her on the hand and says, “Remember, Honey? We took it to the jeweler last week to have the setting re-done. One of the diamonds was loose.” She nods her head that she does remember, and they continue to watch the noon-time news.

Minutes later she says again, “Where is my wedding ring? I’ve been looking for it all day!”

And he answers, “Remember, Hon? We took it to the jeweler.”

Fall television

Mike and I gave up on our Directv a couple of months ago and we've been surviving with nothing more than a little antenna on our TV and about five local channels. We were able to get the Olympics this summer and that's about the only thing on the tube we found worthwhile all summer anyway. I don't really miss having 220 channels. I'm not all that big on tube time. But I do enjoy veggin' on the couch on occasion and tonight I've got a date with NCIS. I'm looking forward to that.

I guess we'll have to resume our satellite TV service pretty soon because of the whole digital TV thing coming into existence in February, but I must admit that I'm disappointed with television on the whole. I'm not a fan of the reality stuff. Just doesn't float the Andrea boat. So tell me, please, what are you watching on TV? Is there anything out there worth the time? Someone give me a reason to start spending money on TV again!

Focusing on Zachary

An interview with Zachary, age 7. Zachary is my thinker, analyzer, questioner. I often alternate between being completely frustrated (screaming, gnashing of teeth, tears, etc.) and completely amused by him. His idiosyncracies either prompt extreme pride or extreme worry. For example, he's a tenderhearted, sensitive little guy. This makes him exceptionally sweet as a friend and brother. It also leaves him wide open to hurt feelings, and the hurt feelings just happen all too often. He is not a big fan of change and would rather have things remain as status quo as much as possible. When change is required, he has a very hard time making decisions and being content with the decisions after they're made. Look for that quirk as he answers his "interview" questions. And by the way, he LOVED this interview. He sat on the couch and I could see an imaginary microphone in front of him as he performed for his crowd (Alec and me).


Me: What is your favorite restaurant?
Z: Hmmm, what kind of restaurants can I say? Can I do Papa Johns? Or Oh! Did you mean the kind you eat in? I like Olive Garden a lot. But I also like pizza so Pizza Hut is good. I like a lot of restaurants. This is a hard one!

Me: What is your favorite subject at school?
Z: Hmmmm, math!

Me: Why?
Z: Because math games are fun and I learn from them.

Me: What do you like to do with your brother?
Z: Play fighting games, like 'super kitty' (my note: This is a game that they have invented in which they pretend to be cats with ninja powers or something like that. Kind of weird, actually.) and I love to play Star Wars.

Me: Who is your favorite Star Wars character?
Z: Yoda. I mean Luke! Well, Luke and Yoda. And Anakin. Can I have three favorites?

Me: What have you learned from watching Star Wars?
Z: I learned that padawans are very sensitive, have a good sense of humor and are good Jedi knights (my note: padawans are Jedi knights in training). I learned that when Jedi get very old they die and disappear and then their spirits come back.

Me: What is your favorite Bible story?
Z: That's a hard one! (He thinks, tapping his chin. Tap, tap, tap. He starts to get kind of nervous so I say, No big deal, Zach. Just think of one.) His answer... finally...
When Jesus was born because that was Christmas time and I love Christmas! So, Mommy, were Christmas and Easter the only holidays in Jesus's time? (My answer: Those weren't actually holidays in Jesus's time, but there were Jewish holidays.)
Z: Really? Like what? What were the holidays? Did they have presents? What were they called?

***short time out to briefly discuss my limited knowledge of Jewish holidays

Me: What is your favorite color, and why?
Z: Red. No actually red AND green. Because red is lava and green is a good guy lightsabor color.

Me: Who do you play with on the playground?
Z: Luke, Easton, Nate, Chloe, Grace.

Me: Who is the cutest girl in your class this year?
Z: (He giggles, but answers promptly.) Chloe is the cutest girl in my class, but Grace is still my girlfriend.

Me: What do you like best about Oliver and Molly (our cats) ?
Z: They are very, very, very sweet, and Oliver is crazy. He knocks stuff down in the basement, chases our feet, chases Molly, pretends to kill Molly, and that's all. (He laughs.) That Oliver is a crazy kitty! (He picks up Oliver and loves on him).

Me: What do you want to be when you grow up?
Z: I wish I could be a Jedi (he sighs, rather dramatically) but I can't... because lightsabors and the force are not real. (This is actually a breakthrough moment, this admission that such things are not real.) It is only on movies. So I want to be a teacher, a school teacher. And a violin musician. I want to be both.

Me: What do you want to be for Halloween?
Z: I want to be Luke or Obi Wan or Mace Windu or Indiana Jones.

Me: What should our last question be?
Z: It should be...(He names about ten things in one big breath and says he doesn't want to only have one more question because he likes being interviewed, but I insist so he settles on favorite toys.)

Me: Okay, so what is your favorite toy?
Z: My favorite was Thomas for a long time, but it changed to Star Wars guys. I love Star Wars guys.

Me: Okay, that's it. Thanks, Zachary.
Z: Thank you for my information! Bye! (Big grin.) Now let's do you, Mommy! I'll ask the questions!

Focusing on Alec

Alec and I are enjoying a quiet morning at home today. My quiet mornings are soon to be extinct. Only one more week until my academic quarter gets going and then my mornings will be spent in the classroom, focusing on theme, audience, grammar, perspective. With all of that in mind, I wanted to devote this morning to my little guy, so here we go! I'm going to focus on Alec today in my blog. Next time I'll try to get Zach to sit still for an "interview."

Alec is my little entertainer. Frustrating at times, certainly. But also very endearing, clever, and just plain ol' funny.

We're in the living room and he's jumping from the ottoman to the sofa. "Stop jumping on the furniture," I say for the bazillionth time this morning. His answer?

"Heaven is up in da sky and ya have to hop on clouds to git to God."

So, what do you say to that? I open my mouth to comment but he's not finished.

"I like to hop. Watch me hop, Mommy. I'm a good hopper." And then, lo and behold, the little stinker is hopping from ottoman to sofa...sofa to ottoman. And I'm just laughing because he's such a manipulator. He had me focused on the hopping on clouds imagery and then he snuck in a forbidden fruit. Little traitor.

So I whisk him off of the sofa and tickle him and he giggles and that laugh is just so incredibly precious and I can actually picture him giggling and hopping from cloud to cloud. Breathless he says, "You sure are a good tickler, Mommy." And I melt, of course. Because at this moment I can't think of anything more righteous, any higher aspiration, than being the best tickler I can be.

Then he's up and bouncing around again, but this time it's for a different reason.

"I need to go potty, Mommy." So I take him and get him situated and then leave him to his business with his favorite book (this week), "Chicka Chicka Boom Boom." From the bathroom he calls out, "Mommy! I'm done... but how come there are green octobabusses on the shower? How come they're smiling? Mommy? Are you coming? Actually, Mommy, I'm not done. Don't come yet." Then I hear singing. He's singing the alphabet song but for some reason he never can remember "T-U-V" so he just goes straight from "Q-R-S" to "W-X-Y AND ZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZ!" I'm not sure why those other letters always get left out, but I bet he would have a reason if I asked him.

And now he's done again so we take care of that business and I tell him to wash his hands. He doesn't like to wash his hands. I recently discovered a trick, though. He loves to play with little plastic toys in the sink. And he especially loves to wash little plastic toys with soap and water in the sink. So, guess what he's doing right now? He's playing with three little ninja guys and those dudes are getting bathed like nobody's business. There also seems to be an inordinate amount of dying and sneaking going on. "Blue ninja is sneaking on yellow ninja and then he DIED! Oh noooooo. No wait, he didn't died. He's kicking now!" And there are noises that only little boys are able to make. Kicking and punching and ooof type noises. I feel the need to distract him.

I call out, "Alec, what's your favorite animal?"

He calls out, "My favorite animals are kitties! Watch this Mommy, I'm a kitty." And now he's meowing while playing with the ninjas in the sink. The funny thing about the "watch me" comment is that he says that when he wants me to listen to him. He hasn't actually fully conquered the difference between listening and watching.

And now here he comes. He's fairly soaked from playing and he's carrying a little orange kitten in what looks to be a very uncomfortable position. Oliver the kitty looks at me pleadingly and I rescue him from those wet clutches of three year old love. And now Oliver shakes his paws and his head and water flies everywhere and I wonder if more than ninjas got a bath in the sink?

Certainly wouldn't surprise me. Not much surprises me anymore. At least, not when Alec is involved! My sweet, funny, adventuresome, charming little stinkeroo.

Fabulous Firsts

Today Alec started his academic career. First day of preschool at Adventureland! He did GREAT. Not a tear, unless you count the few that I bravely blinked away before he saw them. He was so confident. Walked right up to Ms. Aimee and said, "I'm Alec, A-L-E-C." And she said, "Wow! You are a scholar, Alec." And he nodded matter-of-factly and said, "Yep. I'm growing to be a big boy. I'm gonna be a daddy someday." That announced and agreed upon by all, he then went about the task of putting his sticker on the attendance chart, right next to A-L-E-C. And then he was moving on to the puzzles, totally fine and hardly giving me another look. I was backing out of the room, waiting for tears, for the, "No Mommy! You have to stay with me!" But he was fine.

He had fun too. When I picked him up at noon he ran to me and said, "It was fun." He said he liked "lining up" and "going to the potty" and playing at recess. He said he was a little frustrated (fust-a-RATEd) because he wanted to sing "Blue Skies and Rainbows" and Ms. Aimee didn't do that one. However, he still wants to go back on Thursday.

Of course, I took a bazillion pictures because...well, because it's my addition. The picture thing. And of course, I have to share some of them now. Just grin and scroll, my friend. Grin... and scroll. (The blue bucket is one of the school's requirements. They bring a bucket for transporting art/notes/snacks/etc. Alec LOVES his bucket.)

From the mouths of babes

There are times when my children say things that make me cringe and wonder if I'm doomed to a life of embarrassment. An example of this is fresh in my mind. A couple of our neighbors stopped by last week on their walk around the neighborhood and as we were standing on the porch talking, Alec started rubbing at his boy parts. I asked him, quietly, if he needed to use the bathroom. He answered in his I-do-not-have-a-quiet-voice, "NO! My PENIS is just ITCHING!" Nice... uh-huh.

But the past few days have been sweet in their rewards. In the car the other day we were talking about Christmas (I know... a bit early for that). But Zach surprised me when he said, "Mommy, I wonder if Jesus is getting excited." I asked why. His response: "Well, his birthday is coming up pretty soon! I bet he's getting excited about it." Wow, you mean my seemingly materialistic 7-year-old actually realizes that Christmas is more than just presents?! Amazing, and gratifying.

Yesterday Alec called to me from the living room, again in his I-do-not-have-a-quiet-voice. "MOMMY!" I reminded him about quiet voices before asking what he needed. "Nuthin, Mommy. I was just thinkin'. Baby cow statues are false gods."

Silence. Crickets chirping...dogs barking...my mind reeeeeeling. And then it dawned on me. The night before we had read our pre-bedtime Bible story and had discussed false gods. Wow, that sleepy little 3-year-old who'd been rubbing his eyes and yawning had actually been listening?! Amazing and incredibly gratifying.

Today I asked Zachary what he'd done in Bible Hour. His answer, "Have you heard the one about the preacher dude and the tax man?" My first reaction was: Is he about to tell me a joke about two guys walking into a bar? But no, he told me, in his very insightful language, that he'd learned that we should pray unselfishly and that we should not brag just to try to get people to be impressed with us. Not bad, not bad.

From their mouths come both the good and the bad and, occasionally, the ugly -- but I don't care to dwell on those moments. I would much rather dwell on Jesus's birthday, baby calf statues, and that preacher dude and a tax man.

Feliz Cumpleanos (to me) and First Day of School

On September 1st, I celebrated my 29th birthday for the sixth time. My sweet guys made and decorated a cake for me.

On September 3rd, my Zachary began his second grade career. He is in Mr. Johnson's class this year. Yesterday, after Day 2, he came home and said, "Mommy, second grade is much more difficult than first grade." I made appropriate noises of understanding and he said, "Well, it is harder but also more interesting." I think he'll do great if he can just nail down a second grade girlfriend (he's had a different love interest each year of school) and if he can figure out who is going to be his special in-class buddy this year. Zachary is the type of kid who really likes to have one very good friend. I'm not at all worried about his academic ability, but I do worry about him socially. He's so tenderhearted and just gets his feelings hurt so easily. He's a worrier...hmmm, wonder where he got that particular trait. My sweet Zachary:

First day photo op and walking into school

At his new desk (Alec had to sneak into the pic)

Cloud Shadow: The novel

Sorry, I couldn't come up with any F words for this post. I wanted to answer some of the questions that I've had from many of you about my book. I thought I'd give you the brief teaser that I've sent to the publishers. Here it is:

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When web designer Brady Bishop's cell phone vibrates in the middle of an important sales pitch, he assumes his wife LeAnn has gone into labor. The call sends him running for the hospital, but for a heartbreakingly different reason. LeAnn is dead and the baby has survived only by emergency caesarean.

Brady must learn to be a father while also learning to live without the woman who had been his light and laughter for the past decade. Desperate for a measure of peace, Brady returns to Cloud Shadow, a log cabin nestled in the mountains of the Santa Fe National Forest. It is where the summers of his childhood were spent. Cloud Shadow is where he hopes to find himself again.

While hiking one day he stumbles upon the beautiful but dark Hannah Ortiz. Injured by a tumble on the steep mountain path, Hannah is desperate for help and desperately afraid. The fear in her eyes begins to crack Brady’s shell of numbness. The victim of a violent attack as a teen, Hannah shies from men and survives within a watercolor world of art. Scarred and scared, her nights are filled with terror until Brady and his infant son begin to show her another path.

But just as Brady and Hannah begin to find joy in one another, Hannah's fear is realized when her attacker returns. Brady must conquer his grief and guilt in order to help Hannah overcome the shadow lurking behind her.

The mountains surrounding Cloud Shadow provide the backdrop for the exciting conclusion when Hannah and Brady find themselves clinging to one another and attempting to outsmart the shadowy figure who is always just a few steps behind.

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Those of you who know me well are aware that I've been in love with the mountains of New Mexico since teenage-hood, due to my relationship with Camp Blue Haven. Mike's family also owns a cabin there and this story is basically set in that cabin. The premise of the story came from Mike's Granddaddy Welch, who lost his first wife when she died delivering their second child. He retreated to his cabin in the mountains to mourn his wife; not long after his seclusion there he met Mike's Grandmother. That story struck a nerve with me when I first heard it and I've always wanted to embellish it and put in into print. Therefore... Cloud Shadow has been born!

It is a romantic suspense, but it steers clear of pre-marital sex and overt worldliness. My faith is certainly a major aspect of the novel, but I don't believe the book will be classified as Christian fiction. Perhaps it will... but I don't expect that.

I really appreciate your interest and I continue to covet your prayers as I try to make the decision on which publisher to use.