Tag Archives: childhood

Crashing waves of dark and light

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The turning of a calendar page

Such a simple act for most people. For me, the turning eleven months out of the year is no problem. But, there is always a but, the twelfth month is a harsh reminder. A reminder that the waves I don’t see now are swirling out there in the inky abyss and they will come crashing down around us at various times in the course of these twenty-nine days. I am not ready. I haven’t packed any lifelines – other than well-worn knees that ask God for divine portions of his heavenly grace.

I turn the page and see the young man born in this month. As great as my sadness is I can only imagine the dichotomous roller coaster he must feel. Celebrating the day God gave him to us, to the world, but (there it is again) a few days prior we mourn the loss of his best friend – our first born. The world grew darker when our little sunshine was dimmed. In a world where he was perfectly happy to be second to the big brother who was his world, do we now make him feel second even more so as we regroup from our sadness to celebrate his awesomeness.

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The waves start to crash down. I confidently know that we are part of God’s melodic love song. Reed’s verse was shorter than we had hoped. But my heart’s song will always echo more. More. I just wanted more.

Like those waves of grief, I cannot stop the reverberation of more.

The cheerleaders, the well-wishers, the givers, and those on bended knee are still there. Their love carries us forward, even when we know the waves are coming. We prepare ourselves to be beaten into the rocks and to taste to saltiness of the waves. Somehow we are buoyed by those who remember.

Then an unexpected wave comes crashing down. I am caught completely off guard.

Stinging tears fall down. Maybe it is because I know the page turning will commence soon. Maybe the month I dread is on the next page. Time flies when you are having fun and sneaks in when you aren’t ready.

Everyone is gone from home and I sit and cry. I cry remembering all those long ago moments when the holes and scars and battle wounds didn’t fill our days. The days when life was simple, and we would spend half a summer day in our jammies and be filled with the wonders of the world.

Then somewhere deep in the cortical folds I remember the games we made up. The ones we played (momma and kiddos) on the white carpeted floor. The games where we would play for hours and fall out laughing from the joy of our silliness. I long for those days. I want to savor them, hold them in my aching arms and embrace them. The scent of childhood innocence still lingers here.

The memory of the game makes me laugh and smile, but it makes me cry even more. The simplicity of days. The joy of memories of days long ago, but days that God allowed us to have. The memories are too precious to carry alone.

I grab the phone and text the college son.

Having a tough grief day. Missing the days when we played “we are going to make a salad”.

In one moment, the university man remembers his time as one of the boys of summer, Stevens style.

That game was the best and me and Reed always had to be hair ball ingredients.

His response – reassuring and validating – was like manna of grace raining down. The lifelines I hadn’t packed God amply supplied. God’s grace. God’s amazing, providential, all-loving grace seeps into the dark crevices that ache for the time when this month wasn’t painful.

Once again, I am reminded that God’s light shines brightest in the darkness. Through it all – the pitch black of grief and the moments of silliness in our summer jammies and everything in between – God’s love has been in every moment.

And come what may in the tsunamic waves of grief and the turning of calendar pages; this same love will carry us through.

God once said, “Let the light shine out of the darkness!”

2 Corinthians 4:6a (NCV)

 

 

 

 

 

Cowabunga Dude

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Growing up, I was the only girl on one side of my extended family for many years. Then, they just kept bringing home one little girl after another for a lot of years. When it was just me and the boys, I learned to love a lot of things that my brother and cousins did. Do not get me wrong. I was ALL GIRL, playing countless hours of dollies dreaming of the day I would have a huge family, but I loved baseball, football, muscle cars, building things, and superheroes as much as they did. I am so thankful those conventions of my childhood are starting to break down.

The first weekend I met my future in-laws we took all the grandkids (one niece and two nephews at that time) to a petting zoo. I don’t remember why there was a petting zoo, but I do recall pushing the old umbrella style stroller with my little tow-headed niece down the streets of Leeds, North Dakota.

From the first moment, I was smitten. If I wasn’t going to marry this wonderful guy, could I, at least, keep these kiddos and this family? When I later learned that the oldest nephew loved a certain clan of superheroes, this news only solidified my thoughts of love at first sight. My future nephew’s favorite was the Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles. For years, my sweetie and I would search high and low to find the perfect TMNT items for Derek’s gifts for Christmas and birthday. Whenever we would visit, we would watch the cartoons together. All these years later, Raphael, Donatello, Michelangelo, Leonardo, and Master Splinter feel like old friends. I can never take a home-baked pizza out of the oven, and not think of one of the turtles wearing oven mitts doing the same thing.

Over the years, his interests changed as he grew and matured, and he is now a husband and daddy himself. But I never forgot about all the hours we would spend bonding over the latest way our favorite mutant reptiles would battle Shredder and his lackeys, Bebop and Rocksteady. Many times in my daydreams, I remember joy savored in the days long gone. So this last year I put my mind to preserving some of that joy by making a quilt for Derek and his little girl for his birthday and her Christmas present.

I thought this would be a great plan since our TMNT friends were making a comeback. Maybe if I lived in a larger area or maybe if I was a last minute gift planner, that plan would have come to fruition easier. It however did not. I could not physically find fabric anywhere. Rather than despairing, I called my sister (I dropped the in-law moniker years ago) and asked if by chance she had saved any of the bedding our boy had years ago. Not only did she, but she had just ran across it! As a busy mom of busy kids, knowing where something is located is a incredible feat in and of itself.

Words do not adequately express how thrilled I was when I got the flannel fitted sheet, but I will confess to being more than a little nervous. This worn flannel was a precious part of his childhood. I had a hard time cutting it into quilt squares. Once I finally mustered the courage, there was no turning back. I wanted the quilt to be cuddle sized for each recipient, and I wanted a simple design that exuded all things cartoon turtle. It didn’t take long to choose a fleece blanket backing with flannel squares in orange (for Mikey), red (for Raph), blue (for Leo), purple (for Donnie), and turtle green. The only difference between daddy’s and daughter’s quilts would be the addition of some denim squares in the larger quilt and a different sized quilt blocks due to the nature of the repeating pattern of the original sheet.

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She shops around for the best yarns and cottons,     and enjoys knitting and sewing. ~Proverbs 31:13 (MSG)

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 While I love quilting, cutting squares is not always my favorite thing to do. I chalk it up to having tiny hands; so I did have more than a few helpers on that part. The piecing and simple tie quilting were all my handiwork and I loved every minute of it. What an honor to accumulate those three original nieces and nephews and to have added four more on that side of the family and five more on the other side of the family! My dreams of a huge family came true, and with that dream came more blessings than I can even count, including these two cuddle bugs for sure.

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Thanking God today for all the little boys and girls in my life over the years, and all the great adventures they have added to my world! Cowabunga!

The wonder of a box

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I think every parent has been there. It’s Christmas morning, and there sits your child inside the box of the latest greatest toy you spent hours standing in line to purchase earlier in the month. Instead of dropping the big bucks on the toy, you could have headed to the office supply store and spent less than ten dollars on the biggest box available. Better yet, you could have put out a request to friends to see if any were making any large appliance purchases before the holidays and requested to “simply take the box off their hands”.

I remember as a child when one of my best friend’s family purchased new kitchen appliances. Jackpot! We spent the next few months creating an elaborate house out of the boxes. Using markers, crayons, scissors, and construction paper, we made windows and doors as well as decorated our corrugated home like it was straight out of the pages of Southern Living.

Over the years, my children have had similar experiences only instead of a house, they made the Batmobile, the Space Shuttle, and a personal favorite was the Tardis of Dr. Who fame. Of course, there were smaller creations, but these were the most memorable. One weekend last year, the wonder known as the box took center stage in my littlest’s plans. She had a sleepover with a friend. They didn’t have any big plans until . . . we decided to assemble the new recliners we had recently purchased. Both littles were great construction assistants, but as soon as the chairs were sitting ready, they flocked to the boxes like bees to honey.

After a long and lengthy discussion, they settled on becoming Wonder Women. They created “gold” bracelets out of the remnants of the Styrofoam tube packaging and instead of an invisible jet, they got to work creating their very own time machine AND a magic carpet.

They spent hours and hours just drawing and adding details. There were no squabbles or arguments, but plenty of words of encouragement for each other. They couldn’t have had more fun if we had planned a day full of activities. Uncomplicated, unscripted and unplugged – they embraced the moment. Completely content – oh the adventures they had!

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I sent these pictures to the other momma with the caption of “Our Wonder Women”. Almost immediately, she acknowledged the lure of the cardboard box, fondly remembering both her own adventures as well as those of her sweet kiddos over the years.

Recently, I’ve been thinking (A LOT) about contentment and my tendency on occasion to compartmentalize life making all my details fit inside “my box”. In my ponderings, I remembered these two sweet little girls, and their unbridled joy when I said the box was theirs for the day. Making lists and checking them twice have been my strong suits for a long time. Keeping my hands busy was a close third on my compartmentalizing strengths. Gently, God has been nudging me to just stop and be present in the moment, just like the girls. This morning I saw a photo that perfectly captured my ability to be caught up in what I am doing, but miss the rest of what is going on around me. It is going to be an uphill battle, but I am ready to embrace what God has laid before me, open to all the possibilities.

Keep company with God, get in on the best. Psalm 37:4 (The Message)

And who knows? Maybe along the way that will mean time spent in boxes, blanket forts, and tents in the backyard! I’ll have the crayons ready . . . just in case.

Dreams: Kid-tested & Mother-Approved

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Things simply are not the way they used to be.

I realize that opening line could be used as evidence that I’m getting older.  Hang with me, dear readers, because by the end of this blog, I think you will see that I am definitely still young in spirit.  However, the Christmases of days gone by are no longer with me. (Wait a minute – don’t tune out yet. I am not a merchant who is putting up tinseled trees before the turkey is carved. In fact, my favorite part of Christmas now is holding candles with my family while hearing verses and singing hymns.)  Yet, like a song from my elementary years, “Video Killed the Radio Star”, technology has intoned the death bell for my most nostalgic pastime of childhood Christmases.

The arrival of the Montgomery Ward Christmas catalog!

Oh, the hours I would dream!  Perusing each and every page, often with my little brother at my side, we would wish and hope for all types of gems and treasures.  Years ago I wrote about the Bye Lo Baby that I wished and waited for two years to receive.  Looking at those glossy pages was something I remember fondly, but other than a few specialty ones, my children live in a world where they don’t know the jubilation of the arrival of the toy catalog.

Still a true kid at heart (and one who desires to be childlike in her faith daily), I have had to resort to dragging my children to toy stores for nefarious reasons – just to see what is new in the toy world. The experience is no catalog dream fest, but it is the closest thing I have found as a substitute. To be honest, we don’t need any toys; so, my trip is rarely about buying anything.  No!  Those aisles are portals back to innocent days of long ago where I can imagine playing with each item that brings a smile.

So it was on a particularly amazing weekend, I found myself and my curly-headed bundle of energy marching through the aisles of a Toys-R-Us.  Just like her mom years ago, the Lego aisle was among our stops.  She has found enjoyment with the new Lego Friends sets designed for girls. (As a science and math teacher, I will interject that they are just as awesome as the “boy” Legos, and I love how one set has a tiny blackboard emblazoned with a geometry problem. Yay!)

Looking to see what new sets were available for her visions of sugar plums, my eyes fell upon the new Heartlake High.  What happened next probably stunned all shoppers in the vicinity as well as perhaps scarred my mini-me for life.  Yep – right there in the store – I let out a yelp of exhilaration!

These Lego sets are built on the fundamental idea that girls are relational and as more sets are created, more characters to Heartlake City are added to the story. That’s my girl’s favorite part – checking to see if she has that character yet. Well, if you are going to build a high school, you need a teacher, and much to my delight, there she was – the high school teacher, Ms. Stevens, who looks an awful lot like me.  Now, dancing for joy, I was prancing around singing, “Oh yeah, I am a Lego!” repetitively.

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When I flipped the box over and saw that she appears to be a science teacher complete with telescope (I have one of those) and an owl in her classroom (Are you kidding me?  For years I had a snowy owl in mine!).  Tears flowed down my cheeks. At this point, imagine my husband’s shock, when I brought the box to him (still teary-eyed) saying, “My life is complete! I’m a Lego!” Normally, he is the giant kid in our household; so, I think my effusive gushing caught him off guard.

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Hold your horses! Aren’t you married? Well, yes sirs and ma’ams, I am. During my first year of teaching at the junior high/high school level, much to the chagrin of one of my colleagues, the students started calling me, Ms. Stevens.  I had several who struggled with speech issues, and Miz Stevens was much easier to pronounce than Missus Stevens.  It just stuck.  To this day, I am still greeted as Ms. Stevens all over in the community.

For the skeptics still among us, I want you to know about another set of Legos that sits upon my dresser.  One Mother’s Day not that long ago, my sweet boy wrote to the company and told them the story about his brother, Reed.  He asked if they would create a Reed figure for his mom for Mother’s Day, because she LOVES Legos.  They contacted him and said that they don’t normally fill those types of requests, but asked nonetheless for a picture of him and his brother.  A few weeks, later, these two boys arrived in the mail.  One of the Best Mother’s Day’s presents ever.

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Christmas has definitely changed, and I am going to have to accept that. At least dreaming remains the same – for kiddos and for mommas. Even though my catalog days have come and gone, I know one momma (I mean, sweet little girl) who will be dreaming of getting a Ms. Stevens for Christmas this year!

Bling it on!

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I like comfort anything.  Comfort foods, comfort quilts, comfort footwear – all of them rate very highly in my daily existence.  I love boutique shopping, but more often than not, you can find me in a favorite t-shirt and jeans.  Even though I am really into comfort, aside from gardening season, I really enjoy having well done nails. I cherish being unique in my style, and for an outfit to really be mine, it has to involve something animal print, from the ocean, from the heart, or something with a touch of bling.

I was blessed with the best mother-in-law in the entire world.  I love her, but if she were to have a signature look it would not include any of my pizazz.  Jeans, t-shirts, and sweatshirts are her daily uniform – but no embellishments and definitely no bling.  I adore her and there isn’t much that she does that anyone could improve upon.

That was until . . . yesterday.  My mom-in-law is like the Pied Piper of children, and one of her tried and true tips is to always have play dough on hand.  Of course, it is the homemade kind that is so much better than store bought. She has an entire corner of her kitchen dedicated to all things play dough.  Over the years some additions have been made to her recipe like using Kool-Aid packets instead of food coloring for tint.  I even once added essential oils as an experiment for aromatherapy dough.  (It worked, but we never repeated it. I have to say lemon dough was pretty amazing. )

As we were preparing for St. Patrick’s Day, I just couldn’t help myself.  I decided to attempt something I had seen on the internet somewhere (my friends would tell you probably Pinterest) by embellishing Grandma’s Dough in honor of our good friends the leprechauns.  We made the recipe below as usual, but as we were cooking on the stove we added 2 tablespoons of gold glitter.  I, of course, loved it as did my little shadow who also has a penchant for all things fuzzy and bling-y.dough hands

She thought it was much too wonderful to keep to ourselves; so, we made a bag for her friend and  a bag for the leprechauns (more on that tomorrow).clo & dough

Some days, I feel as if childhood is becoming an endangered species in this country.  I will do anything possible to keep that magic alive.  I want my kids to be kids as long as they can. Honestly, though, I am not sure who had more fun making sparkly dough.  I think it would be a tough call.

Long live imaginations including hers!

 

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Grandma’s Play Dough recipe (Kid tested and approved!)

Heat burner to medium.

1 cup flour, 1/2 cup salt, 2 tsp cream of tartar, 2 Tsp cooking oil, 1 cup water, food coloring or Kool-Aid mix,  2 Tsp glitter (We used gold, but my imagination tells me that faeries might like purple.)

Mix water and food coloring or Kool-Aid mix.

Stir this and other ingredients together in a saucepan.

Put on burner, stirring 3 to 4 minutes until mixture looks like stiffly mashed potatoes.

Allow to cool and then enjoy!

Raised on PBS and Little Debbie . . . Part 1

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super groverI have never been a sky is falling sort-of gal.  So, it came as a big shock to me following the sad and recent scandal involving the Elmo muppeteer from Sesame Street, when I heard a reporter speculate that the longtime program’s future was in jeopardy.  My first thought was, “What in the mayonnaise?”

I agree that the turn of events was heartbreaking, but to think that a huge part of American childhood was going to come crashing down over a personnel change was ludicrous.  I consider myself somewhat of a Sesame Street expert since our literal birth-days are ten days apart.  I really have grown up with all the characters, and I have loved introducing them first, to my much younger sister and then to each of my children over the years.

Not all on the changes on my favorite street have brought bliss in my household.  I will never forget the debate that four-year-old Reed and I had about Snuffleupagus.  For the life of me, I could not understand how the grown-ups could suddenly see him, when he was “imaginary” when I grew up.  Reed, of course, thought I was the crazy one. Apparently a few things changed over my college years.

Don’t get me wrong the addition of new characters, such as Elmo, Baby Bear, and Abby Cadabby brought new life and angles to the show, but my heart was still wrapped around the originals: Big Bird, Bert & Ernie, Oscar, Count, and my personal favorite, Grover.  I still believe that Snuffey was better imaginary.  I can’t look at a rubber duck without breaking into song.  As a pigeon fancier, I convinced our kids to name our first female, Bernice, after Bert’s favorite. I have always wanted to take a tour of Oscar’s trash can, and frankly still do.   Even though, I can’t find it on the internet, the Count enumerating telephone rings complete with lightning and thunder will hands-down be one of my favorites.

With the arrivals of the new friends, my old friends seemed to get less “star” coverage.  The one I felt the most sorry for was Grover because he seemed to live in Elmo’s shadow.  As far as I am concerned, that loveable, laughable blue monster is the embodiment of Sesame Street.  Don’t get me wrong, Elmo is great.  I love him too, but who among us does not love a furry blue superhero who can exasperate a man with a fly in his soup.  Many of my childhood giggles came from his antics.  Thinking of them now, a smile breaks onto my face.

With all the other “junk” on television, I love that there is a safe place that my and my children’s imaginations to explore and grow.  I have never lived there or even visited, but one thing is certain, I don’t believe that Sesame Street is going away anytime soon.   I am hoping that someday in the far future, ( – just in case, my kids are reading today) that I will introduce  my grandchildren to my old friends, as well.  Along with all the other great lessons they will learn, I hope that they too hear, “I, Super Grover, am here to help.  And how can I help you?”  – just like millions before them, including me!