Tuesday's Kitchen Inspirations

Is summertime calling you?  This picture is on the bulletin board in my kitchen, and, oh, am I inspired to go to the lake and take a ride on the open water!  These nine children represent four families who spent time at the lake together last summer.  My sweet sister and her husband came around the bend and into our cove with these smiling faces, and...  Oh. my. word!  I almost doubled over with laughter.  It was just too much!  You'd never guess the boat is 20 ft. - it looks much smaller with all those happy chillens'!

Anyway, I just love this picture.  Reminds me of those clown cars at the circus with a million clowns pouring out... Get ready for summer, I guess!

Tuesday's Kitchen Inspirations

This picture was taken this past Saturday evening at my father's 70th birthday party (this post).  However, today is actually the big day.  Here is G-dad (pronounced Gui-dad like the French Gui) with his four doting grandchildren, my two boys and their cute cousins.  This is already in a frame in our kitchen... therefore, a Tuesday's Kitchen Inspiration!

G-dad is a rather unusual name, I know.  As the oldest, Sumter was the one who came up with it.  (I too was the oldest grandchild, and I had the honor of "christening" my grandmother Muz... even the great-grands call her Grandmuz!)  My father is also named Sumter (see this post on how we are ALL named after relatives, both dead and alive!).  And his father was named Sumter.  We called him "Grandaddy Sump".  When my Sumter was a baby, my father wanted to carry on the "Granddaddy Sump" tradition (goodness gracious, we don't like to break with tradition in my family, do we???).  Anyway, that is quite a mouthful for a toddler, and anything Sumter couldn't say, he called Ya-ya instead.  So guess what Sumter called my father?

I suggested that "Granddaddy Sump" was a little more than he could handle... why don't we try "Grand-dad" and work our way towards the desired moniker?  We tried it.  And Sumter took one look at his grandfather and said, "G-dad".  Not quite what my father was looking for... but when asked how he liked being called G-dad, my father would laugh and, with a twinkle in his eye, answer, "Well, it sure beats Ya-ya." 

We think G-dad fits you perfectly and couldn't imagine any other name for you... You are the one and only.  We love you G-dad!

Would You Care to Shag... um, I Mean Dance?

Last night we celebrated my father's 70th birthday.  My mother, sister and I sent out almost 100 invitations for a soiree with jambalaya, beer and shagging.  It was a wonderful affair, with 150 of his dearest and closest friends celebrating a man they love.  The supper was eaten, the Amber Bach consumed, and the shagging commenced. 

"What?  The 'shagging commenced?' " you non-southerners may say.  (And you Brits may be a little more appalled.)  Yes, shagging.  I do know what some of you may associate with the term, but if you live south of the Mason-Dixon line, your parents do it right in front of you, and encourage you to do so too!

Shagging is the state dance of South Carolina... yes, our legislature obviously didn't have much on their plates the year it was passed.  Think a variation of the 40's jitterbug, old Motown (affectionately called "Beach Music"), and a couple in bare feet on the beach.  Shagging is so ingrained in our society down here that at my debutante balls, in addition to the Grand March and the waltz, we danced to The Drifters, The Four Tops, The Temptations, and the other old Motown bands.

I, like all other young southerners, was expected to learn how to shag.  My parents are fabulous dancers, and my mother taught me by having me hold onto a door handle as "my partner" when I was around twelve or thirteen.  She also had me hold a pencil between my fingers and a cup of water filled to the rim in one hand because she knew that at some point I would probably have a "drink" and cigarette while I was dancing and she didn't want me to spill either.  (Yes, this is Mimi from previous posts!)  Needless to say, my sister and I are pros, and nary a drop has ever been spilled by either of us!

So now it is my turn to teach my children.  Sumter just started dancing with me just this past month.  And I must say he is pretty good.  So glad he is a willing partner!  Last night, he wanted to try some of the moves he saw the adults dancing.  I wish we had some pictures of us...

But I do have these little gems.  

This is Jackson and his best friend/cousin MS.  

Aren't they precious?

Please excuse the pollen "dots"!

Can you say "Dancing with the Stars"?

Hard post to write... but one that must be read...

Just last night, Beth (Social Climbers) and I were competing with each other on Facebook to see who was the "worst" mom with the "worst" vignettes from our children.  It was getting rather late in the evening and I was laughing so hard at the things that came out of both of our sets of boys' mouths. They were pretty hysterical - even if they were bad.  But then I thought again about one I wrote.

Before you read, I am asking that you not judge me or my children for what I am about to write.  My boys are my life.  They make me laugh.  They give the dearest hugs.  They are polite and respectful;  good sports and compassionate towards others.

And my youngest (a second grader) also shared something with my mother this past weekend that is haunting to me... 

After the boys came home from a weekend visit with my parents, my mother called me this past Sunday to tell me what my 8-year-old had told her:  he has a girlfriend and he thinks she wants to "make out" with him.  He told her this with all seriousness.  My wise mother did not get visibly upset, but asked him why he would say this and what "make out" means.  He told her that "making out" is what boyfriends and girlfriends do.  It's what you do if you like someone. And "making out" is kissing.  (Thank goodness!)

Oh the sleepless night I had... How on Earth does he know what "making out" is?  My sweet boy whom you have seen pictures of and whom I have written precious blog posts about.

I know how.  And you should know too.

You see, I have heard things from the TV as I have passed through the living room while Sumter and Jackson were watching I-Carly or Suite Life on Deck or Hannah Montana.  The one time I heard the "make out" term on I-Carly, I turned the television off and suggested the boys go play outside.  No big production.  But how many other times had those shows made suggestive comments when I wasn't around the TV?  How much have they heard?  And how much have they unknowingly absorbed?

I have always hated Disney and Nick for the shows they produce for OUR ELEMENTARY AGE CHILDREN.  I have felt the tween characters were always disrespectful to adults and parental figures.  They are rude and belittling to each other, and always have some smart-a$$ comment to say for a laugh.  But I have not been vigilant enough... I have let it slide a bit and let Sumter and Jackson watch.

BUT NOW, my eyes are even more open:  these companies are sexualizing my (AND YOUR) children.  Think back to the sitcoms geared towards children/tweens when we were young:  The Cosby Show, Growing Pains, Facts of Life.  Now compare them to the shows that are geared towards our children.  Look at the clothing the girls are wearing.  Listen to the "innocent-enough" suggestive comments and see the  looks the boys are giving.  Frightening isn't it?

In response to this realization and sick feeling we have about it, Mike and I have made a decision that is not very popular in our boys' eyes:  We have blocked Disney and Nick.  It's not there - not even on the Guide.  I am not having it seduce my boys.  As young males in our society, they have enough going against them already.

I am not telling you what to do... only what we have decided.  (And please do not think that we are naive enough to think that our children will not pick this stuff up in school - no matter private or public.)  What I hope I have left you with is an understanding of what really is going on out there - in our own living rooms and on our own television sets.  It is my plea that you protect your children... in whatever way you see fit.

An Email Worth Forwarding... and Reading

OK... so I am not a big fan of email forwards:  sappy, smarmy, or political.  Normally I delete without even looking at them.  But for some reason I didn't today.  It was from my dear friend from college, Elizabeth.  I read it.  I thought of my children (and husband)... and I wept.  Even though it's a bit long, I wanted to share it with you...

She jumped up as soon as she saw the surgeon come out of the operating room. She said: "How is my little boy? Is he going to be all right? When can I see him?'"

The surgeon said, "I'm sorry. We did all we could, but your boy didn't make it."

Sally said, "Why do little children get cancer? Doesn't God care any more? Where were you, God, when my son needed you?"

The surgeon asked, "Would you like some time alone with your son? One of the nurses will be out in a few minutes, before he's transported to the university."
 

Sally asked the nurse to stay with her while she said good bye to son.. She ran her fingers lovingly through his thick red curly hair.... "Would you like a lock of his hair?" the nurse asked.. Sally nodded yes. The nurse cut a lock of the boy's hair, put it in a plastic bag and handed it to Sally..

The mother said, "It was Jimmy's idea to donate his body to the University for study. He said it might help somebody else. I said no at first, but Jimmy said, 'Mom, I won't be using it after I die. Maybe it will help some other little boy spend one more day with his Mom.' " She went on, "My Jimmy had a heart of gold. Always thinking of someone else. Always wanting to help others if he could." 

Sally walked out of Children's Mercy Hospital for the last time, after spending most of the last six months there. She put the bag with Jimmy's belongings on the seat beside her in the car.

The drive home was difficult. It was even harder to enter the empty house. She carried Jimmy's belongings, and the plastic bag with the lock of his hair to her son's room.

She started placing the model cars and other personal things back in his room exactly where he had always kept them.. She lay down across his bed and, hugging his pillow, cried herself to sleep.

It was around midnight when Sally awoke… Lying beside her on the bed was a folded letter. The letter said:

Dear Mom,
I know you're going to miss me; but don't think that I will ever forget you, or stop loving you, just 'cause I'm not around to say 'I Love You'. I will always love you, Mom, even more with each day. Someday we will see each other again. Until then, if you want to adopt a little boy so you won't be so lonely, that's okay with me. He can have my room and old stuff to play with. But, if you decide to get a girl instead, she probably wouldn't like the same things us boys do. You'll have to buy her dolls and stuff girls like, you know.

Don't be sad thinking about me. This really is a neat place. Grandma and Grandpa met me as soon as I got here and showed me around some, but it will take a long time to see everything. The angels are so cool.. I love to watch them fly. And, you know what? Jesus doesn't look like any of his pictures.. Yet, when I saw Him, I knew it was Him... Jesus himself took me to see GOD! And guess what, Mom? I got to sit on God's knee and talk to Him, like I was somebody important.. That's when I told Him that I wanted to write you a letter, to tell you good bye and everything.. But I already knew that wasn't allowed. Well, you know what Mom? God handed me some paper and His own personal pen to write you this letter I think Gabriel is the name of the angel who is going to drop this letter off to you. God said for r me to give you the answer to one of the questions you asked Him: "Where was He when I needed him?"  God said He was in the same place with me, as when His son Jesus was on the cross. He was right there, as He always is with all His children...

Oh, by the way, Mom, no one else can see what I've written except you. To everyone else this is just a blank piece of paper. Isn't that cool? I have to give God His pen back now He needs it to write some more names in the Book of Life. Tonight I get to sit at the table with Jesus for supper. I'm sure the food will be great.

Oh, I almost forgot to tell you. I don't hurt anymore the cancer is all gone... I'm glad because I couldn't stand that pain anymore, and God couldn't stand to see me hurt so much, either. That's when He sent The Angel of Mercy to come get me. The Angel said I was a Special Delivery! How about that?

Signed with Love from God, Jesus & Me.

Golden Day Blessings...

She Said I Had a "Dream Class"

I wasn't planning on writing a "Part II" to my last post.  However, I received many more than a few posts about how important manners are to all of you... and a few bemoaning the manners of today's children and the fact that our schools are not doing enough to help with the epic proportions of disrespect and gratitude among our children today.  Just wanted to let you know that a few teachers are doing their part, yours truly included. 

A few days ago, I had quite a scare in my classroom:  I thought my computer had a virus.  I totally teach through my computer and Smartboard.  Horrors!!!  The IT person from the district (God bless her!) finally came in the midst of my teaching my fourth graders and had to interrupt me to ask questions throughout the twenty or so minutes she was there.  When she left, she commented to me, "You have a dream class.  I have never seen such polite students."

She is right.  I do have a dream class.  (Sure, they drive me crazy sometimes, but they are nine and ten-year-olds!)  In all my years, I have never had a bad class.  Never.  As a whole, I have always had a good, if not dream, class.  And I'm going to tell you why.

1. I expect my students to have good manners.  I expect them to say "yes, ma'am" and "no, ma'am".  If they don't they have to repeat themselves until they do.   My class discipline letter states this as well.  In it, I tell the parents that it conveys an atmosphere of respect.  Our town has many northern transplants, and I have yet to have any parent complain.  I also tell them that I expect "please" and "thank you" from each student as I will use those words with the children as well. 
2. Our classroom rules are created by the students.  Every year, we come to the conclusion that all rules are based on treating others with respect and showing them good manners.  Therefore, the class always includes one that says "We will only say things to others that will make them feel good."  (Too bad all the kids from those horrible Disney and Nick shows don't follow that rule...)
3. Whenever we have a speaker/visitor come to our class (we've had three so far), I have every student write a "thank you" letter.  We brainstorm on specific things we learned or enjoyed from their visit.  Every letter must be at least five sentences and share how much they appreciated the visit.  This teaches gratitude and showing it to others.  The children love hearing about how much the recipients enjoy their letters - and I get a writing grade!
4. I am "Mom" from 7:30 until 2:15.  I will love them like a mom, and only expect the best from them... like a mom.  Sometimes when I get onto them, I tell them, "I'm treating you just like I treat Sumter and Jackson."  They laugh and say, "That's because you are OUR mom from 7:30 until 2:15!" 

Now I can't speak for all teachers - or all schools for that matter.  As a matter of fact, I wish our school had more to say about manners.  But I can't wait for everyone else.  I have double duty as a parent and teacher.

And... I love having a "dream class".

Thank you for the ride...

My sweet friend, Mama Henley, just blogged about "rules" her family had growing up.  It reminded me of one rule my family had.  It so sticks out in my mind:  Always thank the person who gives you a ride home.

I can remember practicing with my mother.  "Goodbye Mrs. So-and-So.  Thank you for the ride!"  It must be genuine, and our tone must reflect our true thanks.  And it was said every... single... time an adult other than our parents brought us home.  My sister and I were in numerous carpools for church choir, ballet, gymnastics - you name it!  It became rote.  And it still is... now for Sumter and Jackson.

I feel like my own mother, reminding them "don't forget to thank Mr. or Mrs. So-and-So for the ride!"  And they always remember.  I know, because Mr. or Mrs. So-and-So tell me.  We parents notice these things, don't we?  We notice gratitude and good manners.  We notice when our children show thanks.

Yes, we do... and we notice when our children's friends don't...

Consequences... Consequences...

One of my guilty pleasures is the television show "World's Strictest Parents".  I think I watch it because it makes me realize how incredibly great my own boys are!  The premise is that two insolent, disrespectable, and just plain bad teens are sent to live for one week with a family with (you guessed it) strict parents who won't put up with their bad behavior in an effort to change them for the better.  I am absolutely amazed that these kids were allowed to behave this way to begin with!  Where were the consequences in their homes?!?!

Now my boys are great.   They have wonderful manners.  They are well-behaved and a pleasure to be around.   But of course their sweet mouths get them in trouble:  arguing with each other (or their parents), calling each other names, and just saying things the nice young gentlemen shouldn't.  And it makes me just a tad bit crazy.  Well, "tad bit" may be putting it lightly, don't you think?

So what's a mother to do?  Take a cue from "World's Strictest Parents"!  One set of strict parents had this consequence for toilet mouths:  clean the toilet.  I like that.  While my boys don't have "toilet mouths", they do commit the aforementioned grievances.  And I am prepared. 

Gold for $19.95 and an 8-Year-Old

 Jackson, our eight-year-old, came into our bedroom this morning.  I am still half asleep, and the following conversation ensues:

J:  Hey, what can I do to earn (nice that he didn't just ask for it!) $19.95?
Me:  What do you need $19.95 for?
J:  I want to buy gold.
Me:  What?!?!
J:  I saw it on TV and I want to get rich.  They have these bars (shows us the dimensions with his hands) and coins.   And they have these cool buffaloes on one side and Indians on the other.  I really think we need to buy some.
Me:  Really...
J:  Yes, the bald man with the brown mustache said they are going fast but we can buy four or five.  We really need to buy some.  Isn't that a good idea?

J walks out of the room and closes the door.
I am going to murder G. Gordon Liddy.

Grace-filled

Pardon me for saying this, but I didn't feel very graceful yesterday.  Wait, let me rephrase that:  I didn't feel very Grace-filled yesterday.  I know I should have.  Yesterday in Sunday School, we began a series called Christmas with Grace.  As of last month, I became one of the facilitators of our class.  The other leader and I were very excited that we would be spending 5-6 Sunday preparing ourselves for Christ's gift of Himself to us.

The focus this week follows:

The message of Christmas is God giving us what we deserved the least, and what we needed most: grace. While here on earth, Jesus extended grace to those around him constantly. As Christians, we need to learn to do the same with those around us. Nothing shapes the human heart like grace. 

John 1:14-18

But I did not feel very Grace-filled.  My children have been driving me absolutely crazy these past few days.  Bickering with each other, whining to us, the oldest saying, every ten minutes, "But Mom, YOU said you would/I could (fill in the blank)", the youngest crying, "Nooooooo...." when told to take a shower after football or turn off the television.  I have not been feeling much Grace toward them at all.  And I really feel sad about it.  I know I do so much myself that I don't deserve HIS Grace at all - ever.  Yet HE gives it to me freely, openly, and lovingly.  Why hadn't I been able to get with HIS program this week?

I have been reading so many blogs and Facebook posts on "thankfulness" this week.  I am thankful for so many things in my life - my children included!  (I promise!!!)   One thing that stands out right now in my mind is part of the the lesson (and I'm changing the words around a little) I learned yesterday:  Nothing shapes the mother's heart like grace.

I prayed and thought about that message all day yesterday, and woke up this morning feeling a little more Grace-filled (yea!).  I truly desire that Grace-filled heart.  My children deserve my GRACE-filled heart.  My husband deserves my GRACE-filled heart.  And most of all, my Heavenly Father deserves my GRACE-filled heart.

Please Excuse My Dear Aunt Sally

OK, how many of you remember that phrase?  If you can, you'll get 5 extra points on your next Math test!  Let me jog your memory... think back to fifth grade.

Evaluate  8 + (2 x 5) x 3⁴ ÷ 9 

Please - Parentheses

Excuse - Exponents

My - Multiply

Dear - Divide

Aunt - Add

Sally - Subtract

I have been sitting in the dining room with our fifth grader, Sumter, going over his homework.  Thank goodness he has my math genes and thinks that math is just a big puzzle.  I can remember working out the problems, making sure I did all the operations in the correct order - and loving the challenge.  (Oh no!  I was a math nerd!)

Sumter is putting together a few problems for me to do.  I'll let you know tomorrow if I still have the math "edge".  Oh... and did you get the right answer?