Today marks one year of recording our daily family treasures online - and this also happens to be the 100th entry.
This journal started as a record to help the members of our family who live out of town be a part of our lives. I wanted it to be a collection of funny and moving moments, along with a few photos, all to capture what daily life at the Gawthroupes is. I wasn't sure that, in the end, anyone other than myself and my mother would be reading it, however I have discovered as of late that quite a few of my friends and family drop by to read my insights.
What I have discovered, however, is that this journal has turned into so much more than I first expected it would be. I have never been able to keep a regular written journal of my own, but somehow writing online has enabled me to stick to it for an entire year now! I intend to print out these entries and collect them on paper, so perhaps future generations or family members will be able to form a picture in their own minds of what we were like.
But more than this, I have found a place to think through different issues that have become important to me - emotional, mental and spiritual. Even though I am aware this is published online and open to anyone to read, I have been able to tap into a personal level and expose myself to friends and family in a way I don't often do in person. I hope that the content and style of my prose has helped them get to know me a little better. I feel that so often that as one's family grows, we tend to turn more and more inward, losing regular contact with both friends and relations. (Of course our family is most important and does require the majority of our attention.) As I read the online journals of other friends, I realize that they are naturally somewhat private thoughts that provide insight into the character and nature of these writers. And so I am grateful this blog has presented my readers a chance to get to know me on a level that otherwise might not have been attained.
I have thoroughly loved every minute of this diary of events and journal of thoughts, and have every intention of continuing for another year and 100 entries - at least!
Saturday, 1 March 2008
Friday, 29 February 2008
5 generations
Colin, Caleb and I returned last night from our visit to Vancouver, British Columbia this week. I have family out west, and so I ventured out there with the kids and my Dad to visit and introduce everyone to Caleb. The flight was long, but manageable, thanks to our new portable DVD player and my Dad's incredible patience and help. I've flown four times now with babies/children, so if anyone is looking for ideas/advice, be sure to ask!So aside from fighting the time change, we had a fantastic time. What is most remarkable is that we had 5 generations together. That's right - Colin and Caleb have a great great grandmother. In fact, when Colin was born, he had three great great grandparents! We have been blessed with good health and longevity, allowing our family to be so full these many years. When Colin was born, he had 13 grandparents (including all the "greats"). I think back to my own grandparents and feel so lucky to be close to all of them. I have memories of time spent with all of them. Here are a few of my memories, that bridge the 5 generations:
1. Great Great Grandma and Grandpa Gall - sitting with grandma on the piano bench at her home, as she played "How much is that doggie in the window" and "On top of spaghetti" for me. I recall the thrill of the glissando at the end of the latter song, the pure delight my little five year old self took in listening to her sweet voice. Grandpa's funny little tartan cap.
2. Great Grandma and Grandpa Martin - Listening to their stories of raising six kids in the northern Canadian territories while Grandma makes homemade bread.
3. Great Great Grandma Martin - her incredible gift for playing the piano by ear...I have a great love of many of the "oldies" (songs from the 30's, 40's and 50's) that she would treat us to each visit.
4. Great Great Grandma Terry - her wit at our family Christmas gift exchanges - will anyone dare "steal" that pillow from a 95 year old woman?
5. Nana and Poppy - Camping at Six Foot Bay, singing around the campfire, unhooking sunfish from fishing rods, Poppy's jolly laugh and Nana getting right in their with the kids.
6. Ma and Pa Martin - their delight in discovering the differences between raising boys and girls (they had 3 girls and no boys!) Ma's unending patience with Colin and Pa babbling back to Caleb.
Sunday, 24 February 2008
Raising our children
Isn't the circle of life wonderful? I am in constant wonder and awe at the seemingly complicated and yet wonderfully simple world in which we live. With 6 billion people busying and bustling around the earth, with work and play, and economy and culture, and world events and personal schedules, filling our lives will literally take a lifetime. With the added responsibility (and full time job) of motherhood, I feel overwhelmed with the largeness of life.
And yet I heard a beautiful phrase that breaks the mountain to conquer down into one little rock which I hold in my hand. It sums up what our entire human race is doing here, what each day is ultimately about. It has to do with the family and our roles in it. The phrase was this: we aren't raising children, we're raising parents.
Isn't that a fantastic idea that captures the idea of the circle of life? We have been raising generations and generations for thousands of years, each age in charge of bringing up the next, that our race might be a little better, that we might improve the world in which we live, that we might come a little closer to a utopian idea of love and brotherhood. We should not judge our children by the accolades they receive in school or work or the world - the fruit of our labours as parents will be evident in the types of parents our children become.
How much more responsibility do I feel, having sons? In a time when the role of the father is diminishing, where children see less and less discipline, and see less and less of their own fathers; in an age where the pursuit of happiness is equated with wealth and power and fame; during an era which is seeing the destruction of the family; I know my work is cut out for me, and yet I feel the immense importance of what I am doing.
I pray for the strength and wisdom I need to raise good parents.
And yet I heard a beautiful phrase that breaks the mountain to conquer down into one little rock which I hold in my hand. It sums up what our entire human race is doing here, what each day is ultimately about. It has to do with the family and our roles in it. The phrase was this: we aren't raising children, we're raising parents.
Isn't that a fantastic idea that captures the idea of the circle of life? We have been raising generations and generations for thousands of years, each age in charge of bringing up the next, that our race might be a little better, that we might improve the world in which we live, that we might come a little closer to a utopian idea of love and brotherhood. We should not judge our children by the accolades they receive in school or work or the world - the fruit of our labours as parents will be evident in the types of parents our children become.
How much more responsibility do I feel, having sons? In a time when the role of the father is diminishing, where children see less and less discipline, and see less and less of their own fathers; in an age where the pursuit of happiness is equated with wealth and power and fame; during an era which is seeing the destruction of the family; I know my work is cut out for me, and yet I feel the immense importance of what I am doing.
I pray for the strength and wisdom I need to raise good parents.
Wednesday, 20 February 2008
Touch
Some friends of mine attended a workshop a couple of weeks ago on "love languages", based on a book by author Gary Chapman. He contends that there are five major methods of love-giving ("love languages"), and each person responds differently to each type. Each person also "speaks" a primary love language, and responds strongly to one of the types of love-giving. Chapman identifies these love languages as: physical touch, gifts, quality time, acts of service, and words of affirmation. In order to best make someone feel loved, you must "speak" their primary love language to them.
I didn't get to attend with my friends, but hearing them converse about the evening, I was immediately drawn to these ideas. Colin most definitely needs quality time. He loves to be with people of any age. I never need to take a bag of toys when we visit other people - he's most content just to hang out with us. He has always been drawn to people, and has never suffered from shyness or separation anxiety.
Caleb, on the other hand, is completely different. Right from birth he has needed touch. He needs to be held. When he wakes, he cries with terror in his cry, that I am not near. He does not like to be put down. Someone might perceive that I cater to him; that I am fostering a bad habit in him; that I am spoiling him. But I have noticed there is a marked difference in Caleb. He truly needs the touch, instead of simply wanting it. I am not fostering neediness, I am nurturing love.
I am interested in reading this book now, to learn more in depth about each of these love languages. My friends were commenting on how they understand better the people in their lives - family, children, spouse, in-laws (notably!) - and how they have been able to reconcile differences that seemed oceans apart. We easily understand the obvious difference between spoken languages; I hope that I may apply that same knowledge to the variety in expressions of love to deepen my own relationships.
I didn't get to attend with my friends, but hearing them converse about the evening, I was immediately drawn to these ideas. Colin most definitely needs quality time. He loves to be with people of any age. I never need to take a bag of toys when we visit other people - he's most content just to hang out with us. He has always been drawn to people, and has never suffered from shyness or separation anxiety.
Caleb, on the other hand, is completely different. Right from birth he has needed touch. He needs to be held. When he wakes, he cries with terror in his cry, that I am not near. He does not like to be put down. Someone might perceive that I cater to him; that I am fostering a bad habit in him; that I am spoiling him. But I have noticed there is a marked difference in Caleb. He truly needs the touch, instead of simply wanting it. I am not fostering neediness, I am nurturing love.
I am interested in reading this book now, to learn more in depth about each of these love languages. My friends were commenting on how they understand better the people in their lives - family, children, spouse, in-laws (notably!) - and how they have been able to reconcile differences that seemed oceans apart. We easily understand the obvious difference between spoken languages; I hope that I may apply that same knowledge to the variety in expressions of love to deepen my own relationships.
Saturday, 16 February 2008
Ways of learning
I witnessed an interesting facet of Colin's personality yesterday. He has been emerging as a very bright boy, quick to pick things up and a memory to retain things instantly. I got the chance to actually witness him in his learning mode.
Tired of hearing "Baby Baluga" for the umpteenth time, I told Colin I had a new song to play for him. I turned on "She'll Be Comin' Round the Mountain" and started to sing along. Colin turned to me and said sharply "No sing Mommy!"
I'd never been told that before by Colin, and so I stopped and watched to see what would follow. Colin stood perfectly still, staring at the CD player as the song played on. He didn't move a muscle for the entire track, just listened intently. As the last notes died away, he turned to me and said "Mountain again?"
I reset the song and then turned back to him. This time, he danced and sang along, catching all of the timing, and most of the melody and words. I was amazed that he had not only picked up the form of the song, including the actions, but that he seemed to remember in which order the verses came!
However, even more amazing was later that evening, as I was putting Colin to bed, he requested "Mountain" as his lullaby. Being short on time, I sang him the first verse, kissed his head and started to leave. He promptly sat up and said "six white horses!" I couldn't fool him. He knew there were more verses. I obliged him verse two, after which he declared "see her!", requesting verse 3. He proceded to guide me through the entire song.
Okay, so this was a bit of a mommy-bragging blog entry, but it wasn't the intelligence of my son that got me about this experience. It was that I got to witness the process of how he assimilates information. I think back to him standing there in the kitchen, eyes locked on the CD player, requesting complete silence. I could see him drinking in everything, as though this was the only chance he had to learn it. And then at the end of this process, it was all there, in his head.
There are many different ways people learn, and I'm grateful to have seen one of the ways Colin does. I think understanding him will be key for me as I try to teach him at home and help him learn throughout his life.
Tired of hearing "Baby Baluga" for the umpteenth time, I told Colin I had a new song to play for him. I turned on "She'll Be Comin' Round the Mountain" and started to sing along. Colin turned to me and said sharply "No sing Mommy!"
I'd never been told that before by Colin, and so I stopped and watched to see what would follow. Colin stood perfectly still, staring at the CD player as the song played on. He didn't move a muscle for the entire track, just listened intently. As the last notes died away, he turned to me and said "Mountain again?"
I reset the song and then turned back to him. This time, he danced and sang along, catching all of the timing, and most of the melody and words. I was amazed that he had not only picked up the form of the song, including the actions, but that he seemed to remember in which order the verses came!
However, even more amazing was later that evening, as I was putting Colin to bed, he requested "Mountain" as his lullaby. Being short on time, I sang him the first verse, kissed his head and started to leave. He promptly sat up and said "six white horses!" I couldn't fool him. He knew there were more verses. I obliged him verse two, after which he declared "see her!", requesting verse 3. He proceded to guide me through the entire song.
Okay, so this was a bit of a mommy-bragging blog entry, but it wasn't the intelligence of my son that got me about this experience. It was that I got to witness the process of how he assimilates information. I think back to him standing there in the kitchen, eyes locked on the CD player, requesting complete silence. I could see him drinking in everything, as though this was the only chance he had to learn it. And then at the end of this process, it was all there, in his head.
There are many different ways people learn, and I'm grateful to have seen one of the ways Colin does. I think understanding him will be key for me as I try to teach him at home and help him learn throughout his life.
Wednesday, 13 February 2008
Helping the world
I participated in an interesting discussion today. Two women were talking about leaving tomorrow for a two-week mission to Uganda. They will be helping in small villages, administering medicine, and visiting orphanages. One woman was concerned about how heartbreaking it will be to witness first-hand the situations in which these people live, and the trials they face every day.
Then, the conversation turned to Paul (of the New Testament), and how he described himself as being saved not from poverty, but from prosperity. I had never considered that the curse of prosperity might be equal to or greater than that of poverty. We often feel the urge to help those less fortunate than us, but what about those who are drowning in their riches? We live in a world where power, fame and fortune are chased with such vigor that many lose sight of what is really important in life.
We recognize the plight of hunger, the rage of disease, the unrest of politics, and the fury of war. Our hearts collectively weep at the site of the innocent children effected by the uncontrollable conditions around them. But what for the celebrities lost in their altered reality? Do we long to help them realize the damage they do to themselves and their loved ones? Or do we simply dismiss their case with "if I had that much money..." What of those we know who are not celebrities, but suffer the same malady, chasing the same aimless pursuits, always searching and never finding true joy.
The child living in Africa may not have many worldly possessions, but she may not feel the emptiness in her heart that many North Americans feel.
It is easy to say that I would be different if 'blessed' with fame or power or riches. But perhaps I too have been 'saved' from the trials that come with those things. Perhaps I wouldn't be strong enough to handle the temptations. Perhaps I should say: "thank you for not giving me a million dollars."
I am indeed grateful for that which I have. I do not want to fall prey to the idea that I don't have enough. I am richly blessed in so many ways. I want to make sure that I'm happy for the life of moderation I live, and that I show my thanks for that daily.
Then, the conversation turned to Paul (of the New Testament), and how he described himself as being saved not from poverty, but from prosperity. I had never considered that the curse of prosperity might be equal to or greater than that of poverty. We often feel the urge to help those less fortunate than us, but what about those who are drowning in their riches? We live in a world where power, fame and fortune are chased with such vigor that many lose sight of what is really important in life.
We recognize the plight of hunger, the rage of disease, the unrest of politics, and the fury of war. Our hearts collectively weep at the site of the innocent children effected by the uncontrollable conditions around them. But what for the celebrities lost in their altered reality? Do we long to help them realize the damage they do to themselves and their loved ones? Or do we simply dismiss their case with "if I had that much money..." What of those we know who are not celebrities, but suffer the same malady, chasing the same aimless pursuits, always searching and never finding true joy.
The child living in Africa may not have many worldly possessions, but she may not feel the emptiness in her heart that many North Americans feel.
It is easy to say that I would be different if 'blessed' with fame or power or riches. But perhaps I too have been 'saved' from the trials that come with those things. Perhaps I wouldn't be strong enough to handle the temptations. Perhaps I should say: "thank you for not giving me a million dollars."
I am indeed grateful for that which I have. I do not want to fall prey to the idea that I don't have enough. I am richly blessed in so many ways. I want to make sure that I'm happy for the life of moderation I live, and that I show my thanks for that daily.
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