After three bowls of Rice Krispies this morning, Caleb had finished the bag. He asked for more. I told him when I was done checking my email, I would get him some new cereal from the storage downstairs. Instead, my resourceful two-year old found the Raisin Bran in the pantry in the kitchen, pulled it out, pulled out the bag from the box and started eating it by the fistful. Deciding it looked like too much fun, Colin has also joined in. Yes, my kids love Raisin Bran, but they are also enjoying the game of digging for raisins. Colin is concentrating really hard as the "treasures" become harder and harder to find. Now they are bringing handfuls of cereal to the table to show me. Now Caleb put his handful on the floor to eat. At least I mopped yesterday.
Don't sweat the small stuff.
Thursday, 29 April 2010
Tuesday, 27 April 2010
"One is silver and the other gold"
Today my oldest friend celebrates her birthday. As I passed along birthday wishes to her, it made me reflect a little on this friendship. We lived across the street from each other for all of our early childhood and right through half of the teen years. We did attend the same school for two years, although she was one grade ahead. We played and imagined and dreamed and laughed together. Although our paths have taken us to opposite ends of the province, and our correspondence is anything but regular anymore, I have wonderful "gold" memories of her. I have been blessed with many good friends over the years, each one giving something to me only she could give. I hope I have given something in return.
Saturday, 24 April 2010
Disk full
Remember that old warning you would get on your computer, back before they had an inordinate amount of memory in them? "Disk full." It meant that there was too much in the computer's hard drive and it simply could not process anything more.
That is a perfect description of my brain this week. It has reached maximum capacity and won't seem to hold anything new! I had various appointments this week, and each time someone looked into my eyes and told me when and where, I could hear my brain sending me a message saying "I hear what this person is saying, but I am not storing it - disk full." It was only by the good graces of my husband (whose memory is impeccable and infinite) that I actually managed to get to every where I needed to go and get everything done that needing doing. For example, Thursday morning I woke up completely forgetting to go to my bible study that I've been doing every Thursday for two years. James mentioned it to me at breakfast. And Thursday afternoon I had a music rehearsal with a couple of friends, and all day I kept saying to myself "rehearsal at 4, rehearsal at 4, don't go anywhere after nap - rehearsal at 4." I could feel my brain not holding these pieces of information!
It all came to a head last night. If you know me, you know I am a voracious reader. I always have at least 2 or 3 books on the go. Well these past two weeks I've picked up 8 new books, 1 library book and 1 book from my own collection. Of these 10, every single one is of great interest to me, so much so that last night I found myself sitting with all 10 around me, having read chapters from 3 of them and thumbing through the rest. Suddenly my brain sent me a message: "Are you kidding me??? DISK FULL!!!!!!!"
I laughed to myself, gathered the books, placed them on the floor beside my bed, and turned out the light. This morning has been full of other projects, and so my poor brain is finally getting a little rest and recharge. I'm not sure how I clear out some disk space, because heaven knows I've got to solve this crisis soon. I can hear my books calling to me, plus there is the little issue of getting through the week, hitting all my appointments and remembering that things like eating and sleeping are necessary to survival!
That is a perfect description of my brain this week. It has reached maximum capacity and won't seem to hold anything new! I had various appointments this week, and each time someone looked into my eyes and told me when and where, I could hear my brain sending me a message saying "I hear what this person is saying, but I am not storing it - disk full." It was only by the good graces of my husband (whose memory is impeccable and infinite) that I actually managed to get to every where I needed to go and get everything done that needing doing. For example, Thursday morning I woke up completely forgetting to go to my bible study that I've been doing every Thursday for two years. James mentioned it to me at breakfast. And Thursday afternoon I had a music rehearsal with a couple of friends, and all day I kept saying to myself "rehearsal at 4, rehearsal at 4, don't go anywhere after nap - rehearsal at 4." I could feel my brain not holding these pieces of information!
It all came to a head last night. If you know me, you know I am a voracious reader. I always have at least 2 or 3 books on the go. Well these past two weeks I've picked up 8 new books, 1 library book and 1 book from my own collection. Of these 10, every single one is of great interest to me, so much so that last night I found myself sitting with all 10 around me, having read chapters from 3 of them and thumbing through the rest. Suddenly my brain sent me a message: "Are you kidding me??? DISK FULL!!!!!!!"
I laughed to myself, gathered the books, placed them on the floor beside my bed, and turned out the light. This morning has been full of other projects, and so my poor brain is finally getting a little rest and recharge. I'm not sure how I clear out some disk space, because heaven knows I've got to solve this crisis soon. I can hear my books calling to me, plus there is the little issue of getting through the week, hitting all my appointments and remembering that things like eating and sleeping are necessary to survival!
Thursday, 22 April 2010
Diary of events
Usually I resist writing about day-to-day activities here. Sometimes they might be interesting to me, but more often than not they day-to-day stuff is fairly mundane. However yesterday was a little exciting and deserves a page in the Gawthroupe history.
Colin and Caleb are now sharing a room! We took the bunk beds apart to make two single beds. (Bunk beds still terrify me! Between someone [Caleb] falling [or jumping] off the top bunk, or the unrealistic fear of the top bunk crushing the person below, I still have a hard time with bunks after all this time!) My initial thought was simply to get a nursery for Benjamin, so he can at least nap in his own room during the day. James and I often found ourselves needing something from our bedroom but not wanting to wake Benjamin up. But as soon as I saw both boys hop into their respective beds, something endearing swelled in my heart. Those two boys are such good friends, and now they have a new way to bond together in the same room.
We spoke together about not talking once the lights were off, and about being quiet in the morning. Caleb has been waking up before 6am, and Colin sleeps at least until 7 or 7:30. Well, James stood at the door once he turned off the light and listened in. "Caleb?" came Colin's loud whisper. "Yes?" came the reply. James didn't hear any more after that, but we both grinned at the brotherly love and friendship they share.
Quiet in the morning...not so much. However it is darker in Colin's room, and both boys slept until 7am, which is at least manageable. Nap today was the last hurdle. Colin is down to only one or two naps a week, and Caleb can still go 3 hours a day! So I put Colin in my bed, because I knew that if they were together in the room they would never sleep! So far so good! The only issue now is that Benjamin still cries after an hour of his nap, and his nursery shares a vent with the boys' room. So I just had to dash upstairs when he cried and bring him down to the swing. It remains to be seen if his cry woke up Caleb or not. Maybe I'll have to get the white noise machine back in with Caleb, just to keep him sleeping.
All in all, not bad. I think I had worked myself up to thinking it was going to be disastrous, and so it was nice that it worked out so well. This weekend I get to paint and decorate the nursery, then everything should be all sorted out upstairs.
And so we have passed another mini-milestone in our daily lives here.
Colin and Caleb are now sharing a room! We took the bunk beds apart to make two single beds. (Bunk beds still terrify me! Between someone [Caleb] falling [or jumping] off the top bunk, or the unrealistic fear of the top bunk crushing the person below, I still have a hard time with bunks after all this time!) My initial thought was simply to get a nursery for Benjamin, so he can at least nap in his own room during the day. James and I often found ourselves needing something from our bedroom but not wanting to wake Benjamin up. But as soon as I saw both boys hop into their respective beds, something endearing swelled in my heart. Those two boys are such good friends, and now they have a new way to bond together in the same room.
We spoke together about not talking once the lights were off, and about being quiet in the morning. Caleb has been waking up before 6am, and Colin sleeps at least until 7 or 7:30. Well, James stood at the door once he turned off the light and listened in. "Caleb?" came Colin's loud whisper. "Yes?" came the reply. James didn't hear any more after that, but we both grinned at the brotherly love and friendship they share.
Quiet in the morning...not so much. However it is darker in Colin's room, and both boys slept until 7am, which is at least manageable. Nap today was the last hurdle. Colin is down to only one or two naps a week, and Caleb can still go 3 hours a day! So I put Colin in my bed, because I knew that if they were together in the room they would never sleep! So far so good! The only issue now is that Benjamin still cries after an hour of his nap, and his nursery shares a vent with the boys' room. So I just had to dash upstairs when he cried and bring him down to the swing. It remains to be seen if his cry woke up Caleb or not. Maybe I'll have to get the white noise machine back in with Caleb, just to keep him sleeping.
All in all, not bad. I think I had worked myself up to thinking it was going to be disastrous, and so it was nice that it worked out so well. This weekend I get to paint and decorate the nursery, then everything should be all sorted out upstairs.
And so we have passed another mini-milestone in our daily lives here.
Tuesday, 20 April 2010
"The Case for Christ"
A friend loaned me this popular Christian book last week, and in an effort not to have it in my possession for months on end, I've plowed through it in a week and a half. Luckily it was interesting which aids in speeding through a book. But the fast read also gave me some interesting insight into it that I might have missed had I taken a slower pace.
The book is touted as one of the best out there to "prove" the crux of the Christian faith, namely that a carpenter from Galilee who lived on earth 2000 years ago is the Son of God, the promised Messiah, the Christ. A successful journalist takes a "hard look" at the evidence out there, interviewing 13 different authorities on areas including archeology, history, language, New Testament, and others. The author gives himself some good credibility by providing examples from his career as a crime journalist, covering many controversial murder trials and other sensational court cases.
Being a history-lover, I was interested in reading some of the historical evidences for the New Testament gospels. But to be honest, if I wasn't already a committed Christian, I think this book might have tipped the scales to atheism for me! It was poorly argued and immaturely laid-out. The arguments contradicted each other from one chapter to the next. The author posed a question and accepted a superficial answer as a "knock-out punch," when in fact I could think of at least 5 or 6 more probing questions I would have posed.
Perhaps most unnerving was the forceful conclusions drawn for the reader. In a book where the author claimed to want to research the evidence, examine it all closely, and then draw his own conclusions, I found it bordering on dangerous how manipulative his conclusions were. Many people reading would be guided to simply agree with the author rather than process the information personally. In this way, the book borders on propaganda disguised as impartial - a dangerous combination.
I think, too, that this is a good example of how most people of faith react to their own religions. They are aware of the surface answers to questions. Sitting in a bible study or Sunday School class they would offer up these textbook answers, confident in their knowledge and grasp of key doctrines and principles. But they have neglected to dig deeper and yearn for understanding of the concepts to which they cling. I am not saying that religion is bad, but it does help me understand the Marxist quote "religion is an opium for the masses." Too often people lazily rely on others to hand them a watered-down, easily-digested version of faith and never take the time to immerse themselves in the beautiful ideas beneath.
I already stated I am a committed Christian, and a firm believer in my own faith (The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints). Gratefully I have been taught both the skill and the importance of critical thinking and I love to spend time pondering on the deeper meaning of scriptural teachings. There is much treasure to be found if one digs deeper into the sand rather than just sifting through the top layer. Certainly there were some interesting ideas presented in "The Case for Christ," once I looked past the formal presentation. I learned much in some areas and was given food for thought in others. But although I think the theories are worthwhile, I would definitely look for a different, less pushy source.
The book is touted as one of the best out there to "prove" the crux of the Christian faith, namely that a carpenter from Galilee who lived on earth 2000 years ago is the Son of God, the promised Messiah, the Christ. A successful journalist takes a "hard look" at the evidence out there, interviewing 13 different authorities on areas including archeology, history, language, New Testament, and others. The author gives himself some good credibility by providing examples from his career as a crime journalist, covering many controversial murder trials and other sensational court cases.
Being a history-lover, I was interested in reading some of the historical evidences for the New Testament gospels. But to be honest, if I wasn't already a committed Christian, I think this book might have tipped the scales to atheism for me! It was poorly argued and immaturely laid-out. The arguments contradicted each other from one chapter to the next. The author posed a question and accepted a superficial answer as a "knock-out punch," when in fact I could think of at least 5 or 6 more probing questions I would have posed.
Perhaps most unnerving was the forceful conclusions drawn for the reader. In a book where the author claimed to want to research the evidence, examine it all closely, and then draw his own conclusions, I found it bordering on dangerous how manipulative his conclusions were. Many people reading would be guided to simply agree with the author rather than process the information personally. In this way, the book borders on propaganda disguised as impartial - a dangerous combination.
I think, too, that this is a good example of how most people of faith react to their own religions. They are aware of the surface answers to questions. Sitting in a bible study or Sunday School class they would offer up these textbook answers, confident in their knowledge and grasp of key doctrines and principles. But they have neglected to dig deeper and yearn for understanding of the concepts to which they cling. I am not saying that religion is bad, but it does help me understand the Marxist quote "religion is an opium for the masses." Too often people lazily rely on others to hand them a watered-down, easily-digested version of faith and never take the time to immerse themselves in the beautiful ideas beneath.
I already stated I am a committed Christian, and a firm believer in my own faith (The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints). Gratefully I have been taught both the skill and the importance of critical thinking and I love to spend time pondering on the deeper meaning of scriptural teachings. There is much treasure to be found if one digs deeper into the sand rather than just sifting through the top layer. Certainly there were some interesting ideas presented in "The Case for Christ," once I looked past the formal presentation. I learned much in some areas and was given food for thought in others. But although I think the theories are worthwhile, I would definitely look for a different, less pushy source.
Monday, 19 April 2010
An Education
I saw an excellent film this weekend. I rented it on a whim - James was going out with the guys and I had about 3.2 minutes to choose something. Now granted, it was a Best Picture nomination and I think the actress won the Best Actress category, so I knew I was starting with something at least critically acclaimed.
First of all, let me say how pleasant it was that the film was rated PG. I'm not one for movies where they swear like sailors or have sex scenes just shy of pornography, or violence that makes me close my eyes and miss most of the film. And, sad to say, most films that aren't animated these days run in one of these categories. What I found astonishing was that it would have been very easy for the screenwriter to make this an R rated film. The sex scenes could have been more graphic and the characters language could have been coloured more on the blue side. But it wasn't. And what that shows more than anything is how easy it would be to turn many R rated films into PG films. We don't need the exhibitionism. Granted, there are times when the story calls for something more graphic. But for the most part, it's gratuitous.
But what really struck me about the film was the theme, the moral at the heart of it. (Spoiler alert) Here is a film about a young girl who eschews her chance at a formal ivy-league university education to run wild with an older, more alluring and seemingly sophisticated man. In today's culture, this kind of behaviour is usually celebrated. Shake off the chains of oppression! Forget responsibility! Live a little (or a lot)! Run on the wild side! Live for yourself! We live in an instant gratification, self-centered society and our films reflect it perfectly. Except this one. "An Education" is more of a cautionary tale about the real possible consequence of living a self-indulgent lifestyle. Even though there are mature themes involved, I think this a must-see film for teen girls today. A wake-up call to reality, for sure.
All in all, it makes me happy to enjoy a film. I'm so rarely taken heart and soul by movies these days, and it is such a delight when it happens, even more so when it is unexpected.
First of all, let me say how pleasant it was that the film was rated PG. I'm not one for movies where they swear like sailors or have sex scenes just shy of pornography, or violence that makes me close my eyes and miss most of the film. And, sad to say, most films that aren't animated these days run in one of these categories. What I found astonishing was that it would have been very easy for the screenwriter to make this an R rated film. The sex scenes could have been more graphic and the characters language could have been coloured more on the blue side. But it wasn't. And what that shows more than anything is how easy it would be to turn many R rated films into PG films. We don't need the exhibitionism. Granted, there are times when the story calls for something more graphic. But for the most part, it's gratuitous.
But what really struck me about the film was the theme, the moral at the heart of it. (Spoiler alert) Here is a film about a young girl who eschews her chance at a formal ivy-league university education to run wild with an older, more alluring and seemingly sophisticated man. In today's culture, this kind of behaviour is usually celebrated. Shake off the chains of oppression! Forget responsibility! Live a little (or a lot)! Run on the wild side! Live for yourself! We live in an instant gratification, self-centered society and our films reflect it perfectly. Except this one. "An Education" is more of a cautionary tale about the real possible consequence of living a self-indulgent lifestyle. Even though there are mature themes involved, I think this a must-see film for teen girls today. A wake-up call to reality, for sure.
All in all, it makes me happy to enjoy a film. I'm so rarely taken heart and soul by movies these days, and it is such a delight when it happens, even more so when it is unexpected.
Friday, 16 April 2010
Feeling-
I'm not even sure how I describe the feeling. It's another part of me, something in complete diametric opposition to the part of me I am these days. It's as though I have two sides to myself that are incompatible. Split personality is the Hollywood glamourized way of saying it, although it doesn't feel as psychotic as that. Moreso like a teeter totter in an ocean. One side of me soars above the water while the other is submerged, then the other rises from the waves and the first side descends into the deep. I never feel like the side underwater is drowning; in fact, I hardly notice it while I have my head up and in the saltwater sky. I only ever feel this feeling when I take that first breath of air after that side has been beneath for a time.
Enough analogy. I am at once a mother, wife, homemaker, and an artist, free spirit, wanderer. I suppose some people find a way to reconcile the two sides, but most don't. I think an artist by nature is a loner. She has a need to process life without distraction, to descend into loneliness in order to birth an artistic creation. Misery loves company, but melancholy inspires brilliance. It is true that I can feverishly write and compose when I am unsettled; when I am satisfied I find myself empty.
When I embark on an artistic journey, it is not long before I yearn for the stability of home. When I nest among family I inevitably feel the tug of wings wanting to fly.
Art is all romantic notions. Not romance, but romantic - overflowing with emotions at impossible levels. Impossible in that one could never sustain an entire life living at that sort of emotional height. The great balance of life demands a continuous circle of ups and downs. I don't think my teeter-totter is supposed to level out permanently; but each end must be given its due time in air and in water, up and down.
This sort of mood settles on me after a certain book, movie, melody, poem, or vista. I can see the poetry of a lonely oak tree bending in a field as readily as in lines on a page or a beautifully crafted scene in a film or a haunting tumble of notes in a song. This evening it was a film: "An Education." It was a deadly combination, rather, not deadly, but obvious. The combination was an obvious one to bring on such a mood. Literature and French and Paris and youth and love and heartache and whimsy and reality. Watched in the darkness of my home, alone, with only a streetlight spilling its orange glow - a romantic set piece in itself.
Can you feel the difference in me as you read this post? I can feel that other self emerging in the way my thoughts form and flow onto the page. I feel lyrical, poetic, and expressive.
This self has been submerged a while. In these days of early motherhood, with babies and toddlers and day after day inextiguishable from the previous or the next, there is not much place or time to let the wandering artist free. One day, though, one day there will be a time when both have a chance to rise as often as the other. Perhaps then I, too, will find some sort of reconcilliation within.
Enough analogy. I am at once a mother, wife, homemaker, and an artist, free spirit, wanderer. I suppose some people find a way to reconcile the two sides, but most don't. I think an artist by nature is a loner. She has a need to process life without distraction, to descend into loneliness in order to birth an artistic creation. Misery loves company, but melancholy inspires brilliance. It is true that I can feverishly write and compose when I am unsettled; when I am satisfied I find myself empty.
When I embark on an artistic journey, it is not long before I yearn for the stability of home. When I nest among family I inevitably feel the tug of wings wanting to fly.
Art is all romantic notions. Not romance, but romantic - overflowing with emotions at impossible levels. Impossible in that one could never sustain an entire life living at that sort of emotional height. The great balance of life demands a continuous circle of ups and downs. I don't think my teeter-totter is supposed to level out permanently; but each end must be given its due time in air and in water, up and down.
This sort of mood settles on me after a certain book, movie, melody, poem, or vista. I can see the poetry of a lonely oak tree bending in a field as readily as in lines on a page or a beautifully crafted scene in a film or a haunting tumble of notes in a song. This evening it was a film: "An Education." It was a deadly combination, rather, not deadly, but obvious. The combination was an obvious one to bring on such a mood. Literature and French and Paris and youth and love and heartache and whimsy and reality. Watched in the darkness of my home, alone, with only a streetlight spilling its orange glow - a romantic set piece in itself.
Can you feel the difference in me as you read this post? I can feel that other self emerging in the way my thoughts form and flow onto the page. I feel lyrical, poetic, and expressive.
This self has been submerged a while. In these days of early motherhood, with babies and toddlers and day after day inextiguishable from the previous or the next, there is not much place or time to let the wandering artist free. One day, though, one day there will be a time when both have a chance to rise as often as the other. Perhaps then I, too, will find some sort of reconcilliation within.
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