Check out Mr. Rogers’ fieldtrips on his adorable website.
It’ll be nostalgic for you and engaging for your little one.
What a fantastic supplement to the little fieldtrips we take around town!
Speaking of fieldtrips, check out the Fieldtrip Factory, which managed our recent field trip to the grocery store.
This past Sunday’s sermon, “The Peace of God” spoke perfectly to my recent meditations on graciousness.
Based on Philippians 4:4-7
4Rejoice in the Lord always: and again I say, Rejoice.
5Let your moderation be known unto all men. The Lord is at hand.
6Be careful for nothing; but in every thing by prayer and supplication with thanksgiving let your requests be made known unto God.
7And the peace of God, which passeth all understanding, shall keep your hearts and minds through Christ Jesus.
Here’s what caught my ear about verse 5:
The full meaning of “moderation” is found in the greek word epieikes, which means appropriate, mild, gentle, patient.
Pastor Russ explained that this includes forbearance, sweet reasonableness, big-heartedness, and a seeking of what’s best for others despite the cost.
This gentleness must be made known to everyone… including our enemies.
The “why” and the “how” of living with a big-hearted sweetness is provided in the rest of the verse: “The Lord is at hand.”
Dwell in the recognition that God is near, and you’ll discover yourself in a posture of peace and generosity.
You might enjoy listening to the sermon this afternoon.
Oh, I knew that Laura Ingles Wilder’s Farmer Boy would evoke all sorts of agricultural nostalgia in our little 4 year old.
I expected some pig feeding, some mud-soup making, some apron-wearing, you know.
I didn’t anticipate, however, a child placidly sitting by the window lovingly “shearing” (her word) an over-sized giraffe with a little tin fork.
The check is in the mail!
I have signed up to become certified in First Aid + CPR/AED – Adult + CPR – Infant/Child by the end of the month. I’m happy to say that it’s a lot easier than I thought!
It technically just requires one block of time: for example, you could receive your certification in all of the above skills on one Saturday from 9 – 5 p.m.! I selected a “Blended” course, so that I can complete the online course work at home at my own pace (Viv will probably watch some of it with me) and attend a 3-hour evening class that covers the hands-on instruction. I selected this option over the all-day-Saturday course so that we could access the information for a year and I wouldn’t have to sacrifice an entire Saturday. I must admit, though, completing the entire certification in one fell swoop was awfully tempting.
Make this the month you brush up on some life-saving skills, too!
Go to the American Red Cross homepage, which will direct you to your local Red Cross web site.
Ryan sighed, sat back, and put his hands behind his head.
“(Sigh, again.) Ah, I haven’t expressed myself in geometric shapes in such a loooong time!”
So, add this to January’s list of skills to tackle: find the main water valve to your house. And you can check this off in a jiffy.
A few days ago, Ryan showed me that ours is in the basement by the water softener. He asked why I wanted to know. Sure enough, a few days later, a very close friend (ahem, you know who you are!) told us about waking up to burst bathroom pipes that spewed water all over the floor and required all of her towels to clean it up. Now that’s a good “why” if I ever heard one! If you live in an apartment or rented home, pester your landlord until you know what you should do in case of an emergency.
Read more about finding your water and gas valves here and here.
January Jump: Make Preparedness Notebook; Build Fire; Create a Home-Escape Plan (hopefully not needed directly upon building fire)
Completed: Build Fire
For months, I’ve been happy to load the wood into our stove, but I refused to learn how to light it myself. Until this weekend, that is. On Saturday, I built a fire in our chiminea and wood stove.
* Crumpled the comics up real small (they’ll burn longer that way)
* Piled on a good amount of small, dry twigs in the classic tee pee formation.
* Lit the bottom of the newspaper balls with a lighter, and whoosh: fire!
* Ryan taught me how to build up some nice hot coals by adding wood that is successively bigger in size.
* Left the flu open until the stove was burning nice and hot.
* My chiminea fire even crisped the edges of some delicious marshmallows. If that’s not success, I don’t know what is.
* (And due to Ryan’s thorough lesson plans, I even learned how to rake the ashes through the grate in the morning and start a fire with last night’s coals. Bonus material.)
Here’s an article with more details about building a fire in all kinds of circumstances. This information is going straight into my Preparedness Notebook (that post is coming soon!).
While reading Kathy Harrison’s book, Just in Case; How to Be Self-Sufficient When the Unexpected Happens, I stumbled upon a paragraph that alarmed me:
“Take stock of the skills and knowledge you may need in a crisis. A working knowledge in areas such as gardening, food preparation, first aid, sewing, home repair, and auto maintenance will never be wasted. Acquiring those skills will help you confront adversity without panic.”
Why did I frantically underline that paragraph, burst into tears, and bang my head on the table??
Because, of the skills listed here, I have 0.25 of them.
Yup. Basically, I can thread a needle, replace a flashlight battery, apply a band-aid, and follow a simple recipe. Otherwise, I’m toast. That’s how I came up with a grand total of zero-point-two-five skills out of six. Not to mention survival skills like fishing, hunting, trapping, purifying water, and building fires – important skills that aren’t even on Harrison’s list, which makes it 0.25 out of 11. (Sorry, Mom! It wasn’t for lack of trying on your part. It’s just that the only thing I remember from my 4-H experience is a story about some girl falling off of the monkey bars and biting her tongue off. That story was told at the table as we stitched our lavender laundry bags. Believe me, I, too, wish I would have remembered something about making a draw-string instead.)
No use bemoaning lost opportunities.
I’ve decided to take myself to Practical Skills School. Effective immediately. Because if there’s one skill I do have, it’s the love of learning (that’s one thing I did retain, Mom!).
So, learn I will.
I’ve drafted a year’s worth of curriculum that will help me to tackle one or two areas each month, at least mastering the basics. I happen to be married to an Eagle Scout/ Mechanic/ Plumber/ Genius, so I usually snuggle up on the couch while he attractively fixes, mixes, and mends. But I’ve decided to jump right in next to him and learn a thing or two. Ryan’s a fantastic teacher, so I know I’m in good hands. Of course, we’re fully intending on bringing the girls along with us for the fun – when it’s safe and all! So hey, get out your notebooks and join us if you’d like. Of course, I’ll keep you updated on my progress like any good Julie and Julia fan would.
January Jump: Make Preparedness Notebook; Build Fire; Create a Home-Escape Plan (hopefully not needed directly upon building fire)
February First Aid: Attend Red Cross CPR/ First Aid class; update home and car first aid kits
March Maintenance: Check and put spare tires on both cars; master automobile emergency procedures; update car emergency kits (hopefully not needed directly after fiddling around in the engine)
April Angling: Catch, fillet, and fry a fish (the same fish for all three steps); Organize home paperwork (i.e. update passports, etc.); sprout seeds
May Flowers: Plant flowers and vegetables; Get the whole family out on bikes, pump up the tires, and conquer some hills
June Jumpers: Overcome ridiculous fear of sewing machines; make one summer dress for each daughter
July Try: Go on an over-night camping trip, complete with tent, campfire, trusty husband, sharpened utility knife, and foil babies; Vivienne takes swimming lessons
August Assessment: Assess food storage and supplies; make menu plans for stored foods; can something!
September Sewing: Return to the machine. Make three decorative pillows.
October Automobiles: Return to the cars. Replace tires again; check oil; practice emergency procedures
Nutty November: Trap something furry (do not eat it); *try* to (hunt) Thanksgiving dinner (trapped-furry-thing doesn’t count)
December Delight: Evaluate all of the ways in which the girls and I have grown in womanliness, confidence, and preparation.
So, it’s Little House on the Prairie in these parts. A couple of weeks ago, we decided that it was time to move Lia out of the crib and into a full bed with Vivienne. So far, they literally squeal with joy to cuddle up together. It’s truly priceless. And to peek in on them once they’re adventuring in Never Never Land is one of those heart-stopping moments that a parent never never forgets. (I know that you probably would love to see such a treasure, but there is no way I’m risking it to snap a photo while they’re sound asleep.)
I realized, though, that it mustn’t be all bliss when Viv showed me this comic recorded in her little notebook. “This is called “NOVIVI” because that’s what Lia says when we are laying in bed and I give her the boot!’”
So, I realized that I never posted about my New Year’s Resolutions.
They’re nothing to inspire a movie, but they’re mine, so I say they deserve a post.
You’ll notice I keep my resolutions real practical. Six years ago, I fell in love with the practical New Year’s Resolution that can be checked off the list by February 1st. Invigorating!
1. To close the bathroom door.
(Oh, the terrible habits we acquire in the name of conscientious motherhood! But, the girls are quite old enough now to survive the 30 seconds that I’m out of sight. Don’t you agree? If all goes well, I might just bump the 30 seconds up to a full minute! Then 15 minutes! When I squeeze an easy-chair into our half-bath and the girls are slathering the kitchen walls with oatmeal, I’ll know I’ve maxed out my time away.)
2. To stop using the word “cool” unless referring to a mild temperature.
(This weak adjective has been a part of my daily vocabulary for far far too long. There have to be better words of approval out there. Words like “brilliant”. Yes! That’s the one!)
3. To shop from a list. Only. For the most part.
(I have entitled myself to one exception: if I want to browse Goodwill or Target, etc. and fully intend on buying something if it is seriously a brilliant deal, I will go into the store with a total dollar amount jotted down on a piece of paper. That way, I can engage in spontaneous deal-finding, while keeping a lid on it. Because really, it’s not a deal if we didn’t even know we needed it, never will need it, or – erm – can’t afford it. Someone brilliantly handsome taught me that.)
So, there you have it, 2010. A door, some editing, and a conscientious shopper. Happy New Year!
