Travelogue – Rome, Italy – December 28-31, 2005
In my Christmas stocking this year was a library book – a Rome tour book and a notice on it saying we’re going to Rome in 3 days! (Lyrad had doctored up an Italy Tours flyer to say: “RILEY TOURS...with your guides to Rome -- LARRY and Isaacissimo” Then he’d X’ed out the whole itinerary on the flyer and wrote “Lyrad has a Better Plan!”) Lyrad and I had talked about going to Rome but last I’d heard, it wasn’t going to work out. So what a fun surprise. And Isaac was going with us; he’s old enough to appreciate all the history (and hours of waiting in line) and really enjoys individual time with his parents. He’s been so good lately, we wanted to do a Special Trip for him. We left our house Wednesday afternoon in the snow and played “Set” at the airport while waiting and waiting for our weather-delayed plane. I read the whole “Ensign” and didn’t mind the extra waiting – we had snacks with us, we had no connecting flight to catch, and we had no impatient tired little ones whining in boredom. Isaac brought along his “Faith in God” booklet to set goals when he had free time. I encouraged him to bring a fun book, but he only wanted his scriptures and Anne auf Green Gables – not an easy read (in German) but he’s determined. When we arrived in Rome, Isaac and I began our Pickpocket-Alert and were successful at evading pickpockets for the whole trip. We caught an express train at the airport to ride a half hour to Termini Station, the huge main Rome train/bus station. My first impression of Italians is that they look and sound just like they do in movies and stereotypes (I don’t mean that in a negative way!) and I think a lot of Indian men live there selling things on the streets. We walked to our hotel and were pleasantly surprised with how close it was to the station – only 1-2 blocks away! We rode up an old elevator to the 4th floor, the Alberto Sileo hotel. It was only 55 Euro a night, total for all 3 of us. Great deal and here’s why – we can only stay there between 7 pm and 9 am, then our suitcases are left there all day while a nighttime train driver sleeps in the room all day long! Worked fine with us (yes, I assume the sheets are changed each time!) because we were there to sightsee, not lounge in the room all day. We walked around looking for a restaurant and Lyrad picked a Famiglia (family) one. The green salad came with no dressing, but we were always given olive oil and vinegar to pour over it. The bread could also be dipped in olive oil (Isaac loved it) and we tried spaghetti with white sauce and bacon, and a chocolate torte (cake). I prefer Olive Garden (I guess I like AMERICAN Italian food!) but I’m also too neurotic to enjoy eating in a restaurant that I don’t feel is too clean. The meal takes so long there, because there are several courses – an antipasto (cold mushrooms, etc), then the First Plate is a pasta, then the Second Plate is a meat, THEN comes the salad, then dessert. We never ate all 5 plates but had fun sharing things. When we got to our room at 11 p.m., I was sure Isaac would crash, but the disciplined boy would not go to bed until he’d done his sit-ups, push-ups, scripture reading, and writing in his journal. I read him a story from Sheri Dew’s No Doubt About it for his read-aloud, and then we all slept well in our tiny hotel room in Rome.
On Thursday, we walked to the station at 8:15 a.m. and looked for the hop-on hop-off tour bus. It rained all day and on EVERY street corner stood an Indian/Sri Lankan man selling an armful of umbrellas. I bought one for 3 Euro for our day in the rain, but that didn’t stop every other umbrellas salesman from approaching us as well. We kept joking about seeing the same umbrella guy all day long, on every corner, or was it The 8 Indian Brothers? We rode the red bus through downtown, seeing old ruins and beautiful churches. Mark Twain said you can’t swing a dead cat anywhere in Rome without hitting a church, and he’s right! The most thrilling sight for me was seeing the remains of the huge Colosseum (where the gladiators fought) and I pictured Androcles and the Lion as we rode by on the bus, knowing we’d be back later to walk around inside. We passed the site of the Circus Maximus (where the chariot races took place) and pictured scenes from “Ben Hur” though it’s only grass on the big oval now (no walls). Lyrad was very excited to see the Forum. We got off the bus at St. Peter’s Basilica to admire the life-size nativity scene out front and also the ornate building. We enjoyed many tourist shops, then boarded the bus again to ride the complete loop back to the Vatican to get to the USO office by 1:15 for a group tour. We had to sit in the roofless upstairs of the bus for a while and the cheap umbrella came in handy (though it couldn’t withstand the wind) then finally got seats in the warmer dryer downstairs and enjoyed the audio commentary while driving through Rome. For lunch we bought sandwiches in a tiny sandwich shop, including a cool sandwich pizza (panini) which is like a round folded-over pizza with spinach inside, cooked in a sandwich griddle and served hot – yum! We boarded a bus with a bunch of Americans for the USO ancient Rome tour, to the Colosseum and the Catacombs. The Colosseum is magnificent and we walked around up high and saw where people would sit in the OLD days (women sat way at the top) and also all the cages in the basement (under the arena floor) which held all the animals. The fighting shows were not regular events, rather they were held in conjunction with special celebrations such as a new ruler being chosen. Sometimes hundreds of animals would be killed during the weeks-long events. Christians were NOT put to death in the Colosseum (though they WERE put to death in another place in Rome). This huge arena was a very cool site to see.
Next we rode the bus to the San Sebastian Catacombs and I loved seeing these. We walked underground through the narrow tunnels (very extensive) to see where people were buried (to save ground space, Romans often buried the dead underground in what looks like bunk beds along the walkways). We saw some elaborate tombs for richer people. Very neat. We drove along the Appian Way, and I asked our Italian tour guide if it was the same Appian Way on which the female pope gave birth to her baby. The tour guide assured me it was, though emphasized that it’s only a legend. (I’m a believer; what else could an intelligent woman do in those days a thousand years ago but pretend she’s a male if she wants to read and be educated. The book Pope Joan was fabulous; even if she wasn’t a true person, the details of the times and Roman life in the middle ages and of the corruptness of the popes was fascinating)
We rode the red bus a little way back, then got out to see the Trevi Fountain (beautiful huge fountain, 250 years old, with Neptune and 2 tritons; one triton is wrestling a sea horse) – beautiful. According to legend, a coin thrown into Trevi Fountain guarantees a visitor’s return to Rome. So Isaac tossed in a coin! We bought kiwi gelato and mint gelato and loved it. We walked across Rome back to our hotel, then went out to dinner at a Roman restaurant. We enjoyed this very clean restaurant, especially the spinach-ricotta ravioli and the artichoke appetizer. Lyrad had been looking all over for ravioli in red sauce, but I guess that’s only the American way to serve them.
On Friday, we left at 7:30 a.m. to ride a public bus across town to the USO office for the Vatican Tour. Pickpockets hit hard on the buses, we’ve heard (many of our friends have told us of near-escapes from pickpocketers on crowded buses) but we were fine. There was a different challenge on this bus – a terrible smell from a little old lady (I think she was carrying a bag of manure for fertilizer?) and when someone said something to her, she just began yelling and yelling back in Italian and I was grateful to get off the bus soon after that. We waited in line for an hour and 40 minutes to enter the Vatican Museum. Luckily, no rain (and even some sunshine) that day. We met some nice American families in our tour group also stationed in Germany and it made the wait more fun. One 4-year-old girl was so tired of standing there, so I held her on my back while chatting with her mom and it helped me not miss my little guys so much! (I knew our 4 were having the time of their lives so I didn’t feel too bad about leaving them…none of them would’ve enjoyed walking for hours in the rain, waiting in line, going through crowded museums) Outside the museum the tour guide explained the pictures in the Sistine Chapel on a big poster. In the museum we saw sculpted busts, mosaics, some beautiful paintings and rooms, my favorite being the Gallery of Maps with maps painted all over the walls and beautiful paintings all over the ceiling. Very impressive, though Lyrad, Isaac, and I became separated from our tour group in the big crowd here. We rushed along to catch up (but we were actually way ahead) and were relieved to find them again. (We had ear phones on and could hear our individual guide explaining history) Being in the Sistine Chapel was very cool – though I thought it amusing in the pictures of Moses’ life that the scenes had Roman arches and architecture in the background, and the Egyptians drowning in the Red Sea looked just like Roman soldiers. Lyrad bought a poster of the inside of the Sistine Chapel so we can always remember walking through it. Next we walked to the adjacent building – St. Peter’s Basilica. Michelangelo’s dome of St. Peter’s is the tallest in the world, but the artist died before its completion. We saw Peter’s tomb (and later walked by a spot where he might have been in jail), the dome begun by Michelangelo, the statue of a very young Mary holding the dying Christ (“Pieta” by Michelangelo), statues of popes, and ornate decor. We saw the door that only opens once every 25 years, by the pope in a Jubilee Year. By the end of the tour we were hungry and tired of standing and I was grateful for the once-in-lifetime experience and glad our other children were spared this!
We ate at a pasta restaurant – more ravioli and gelato, and Isaac and Lyrad tried new appetizers such as squid. Then we began our long but interesting walk all across Rome, stopping at places along the way. We stopped in a French Church (San Luigi dei Francesi) and enjoyed some large Caravaggio paintings and more painted ceilings. I found it amazing how we could be walking across Rome, from one main tourist attraction to another, and on our way we passed so many elaborate churches and could just step inside the door and enjoy. We saw a few beggars on the steps of the churches and shared some of our cereal biscuits with them. (We bought fruit juice and cereal biscuits and dates and green olives for breakfasts and snacks; the cereal biscuits were crumbly crackers but very healthy and good) At Sant’Ignazio di Loyola Church we enjoyed seeing the ceiling – the builder didn’t have enough money to build a dome, so he painted an illusion of a dome (fake perspective painting) in a big circle on the ceiling – very convincing! We walked across a bridge over the Tiber River, enjoyed Trajan’s Column (an obelisk built in AD 113 with a story of the emperor’s exploits carved in pictures up the obelisk, all in one continuous line wound around the obelisk), saw a pantomime in the Piazza Navona carnival area next to a castle and big fountain, and bought little things for those we left at home (soldier for Josh, angel pics for Madi, Pinocchio stuff, matching pasta chef hats for Lyrad and Shirley). We went into the Pantheon and were glad it wasn’t raining; the circle opening at the top of the dome is not covered! Raphael is buried in this Roman pagan temple (built in Hadrian’s time around 125 AD) which later became a Christian church. We stopped at a grocery store to buy our dinner and breakfast – Isaac was loving the green olives and very bitter chocolate we’d found. The market had huge meat slabs (legs were hanging right in the store) and huge cheese wedges – I guess parmesan cheese is a staple in Italy! Back at our hotel, we warmed up with our fruit juice, yogurt, rolls, pastries, etc, then tucked Isaac in. After that, Lyrad and I tried to stay awake to read The Da Vinci Code together (interesting though not too believable of an adventure).
On Saturday morning, we set off in a drizzle and decided to walk across Rome instead of taking the public bus. As it was New Year’s Eve, the streets were pretty empty but luckily the Museo Nazionale Romano was open. We ate breakfast on its steps, then walked around the beautiful huge paintings and busts and more nude statues than I’d ever want to see. Many paintings were historical, and beautifully done but too violent – such as Romans stabbing the conquered and the kidnapping of the Sabine women which the Romans undertook to populate their new kingdom, around 500 BC. (This event inspired the brothers in “7 Brides for 7 Brothers”) We saw many depictions of Romulus and Remus being nursed by a she-wolf; according to legend, when their uncle threw them out of the city to die, the wolf saved the toddlers and Romulus came back to found Rome around 700 BC. Isaac appreciated the beautifully carved folds in statues’ togas, especially when made of black and white marble.
Next we walked around on the Victor Emmanuel monument, which has a fire burning on a platform and marching guards wearing capes next to it. The monument was built 100 years ago in honor of the first king of a unified Italy. The large building with many steps leading up to it is nicknamed by unadmiring Romans as “the wedding cake” or “typewriter”. But it provided nice views of the city.
Our last stop was to the remains of the Roman Forum – the center of commercial and political life in ancient Rome. Legal cases were heard here in the basilicas, and many victorious Romans built triumphal arches. We found the Arch of Titus particularly interesting, as it was built in 81 AD to commemorate the Romans’ destruction of Jerusalem. One relief on the arch shows the Romans carrying off spoils from the Temple – a menorah, altar, and trumpets. Isaac and Lyrad walked around (while I sat under an umbrella, took a break, and read) and were impressed by the House of the Vestal Virgins – 6 virgins were chosen at a time to keep alight the sacred flame of Vesta, a full-time responsibility (“honor”?) for 30 years. We saw Palatine Hill where Romulus and Remus were cared for by the wolf, and also Cicero lived here. Then we headed back to the hotel, ate pasta on the way (and my efforts at arguing for being way overcharged were unsuccessful), boarded the Express Train for the airport, then enjoyed our last sights of Rome (crowded apartments in the outskirts) as we headed to the Da Vinci Airport (while reading about the same airport in the Da Vinci Code). At the airport, we played “Set”, then read more together while Isaac read a biography of Albert Einstein (Einstein attended German schools, too, and we’ve been to many places he’s been to). After an uneventful flight home, we were grateful to be home safely and excited to see our happy children and grandma at home who had made chicken noodle soup (with homemade noodles from our new pasta maker) and bought candy for a New Year’s Eve celebration. They had a great time at home, and we had had a great time seeing some of the ancient wonders of the world.
Tuesday, March 11, 2008
Travelogue -- Tunisia
Travelogue - Tunisia - May 20-25, 2007(written Tuesday and Wednesday in the hotel, then Friday on the plane ridehome)Lyrad was excited to present a poster at the 37th World Conference onMilitary Medicine, held this year in Tunis, Tunisia. In order to take mealong, he arranged to fly his mother out here for a few weeks. Shirleygraciously agreed to come babysit even though she's in the middle of movingfrom one house to another. On Sunday, May 20, we packed our suitcases into the car at 7:30a.m. and went to church with Shirley and our children (we go an hour earlyfor Lyrad's meeting). While waiting for church to begin, I finished writingup all the details for each day we'd be gone, so Shirley would know who hasto be where and when. All the German schools begin and end at differenttimes each day, so the schedule is quite complicated. Isaac, Eliza, andMadison are completely on their own for getting to school all week (viapublic bus, train, base shuttles, and foot or scooter), and Joshua doesn'thave to go at all (but if the neighbors are going, they'll drive Joshua).But Rachel is too little (in my eyes, not hers) to walk the half-hour walkto school and then home again each day. So Lyrad showed Shirley how todrive to Rachel's school, and apparently they made it home in one pieceyesterday (though a German polizei did pull her over after she drove througha pedestrian zone - but she got off with a warning!). We are so gratefulfor Shirley's willingness to Control the Chaos at the Riley home so Lyradand I can have this trip together. After Lyrad conducted sacrament meeting, we said our lastgood-byes to the children (who didn't show much emotion about us leaving -having Grandma here is too exciting, and 5 days is not very long anyway),handed out cookie plates and birthday cupcakes (for Joshua's primary classand my primary class), then Kris Taylor drove us to the airport duringSunday School. We had plenty of time to chat and read until our plane took offfor our 1 1/2 -hour flight to Paris at 1:15. I didn't like the No-Liquidsrule while going through security; I was protesting about having to emptyout my face-soap bottle into a plastic bag. I enjoyed reading Elder EnzioBusche's biography, Yearning for the Living God, on the airplane as he'sGerman and we've been to many of the places he described in his book. Veryuplifting read. We boarded our plane in Paris around 4:00 for our 2 ½-hourflight to Tunis. It was fun to watch Lyrad speak proficiently in French. Idecided to try speaking French when the flight attendant came down the aisleand asked what I'd like to drink - how embarrassing! I pointed to the juiceon her cart and said "pomme de terre juice". When she looked at me inconfusion, I remembered that "pomme de terre" is POTATO ("apple of theground") and I should've just said "pomme". Lyrad straightened out my errorand I didn't have to drink potato juice. Since then, the only French I nowattempt is "merci" (though I often catch myself saying "danke"). I am theblack sheep in this multi-lingual family. We had an interesting dinner ofstuffed chicken and sautéed veggies with vinegar and a brownie. We werevery grateful to be fed because of its being Sunday (though we'd broughtgranola bars in case we needed them. I'd even brought leftover sweet andsour pineapple with rice, but Security wouldn't let it by because it had toomuch liquid in it, so I ate a few bites at the security gate then threw itaway). As we flew over North Africa, we saw the coastline and Imarveled that I was finally seeing Africa. When I was about 12 and sodistraught over the plight of the starving Ethiopians, I made a lifelonggoal/wish to visit Africa and help the hungry people. So I'm fulfillinghalf of that goal as I visit Africa for my first time. And maybe Lyrad'sattendance at this conference in some small way will help the medical careof indigent Africans? He brought along a large poster all about his effortsas an International Health Specialist setting up clinics and providingmedical care around Africa. Tunisia is a very well-off African country(compared to Africa, not compared to the USA) and it seems more"Middle-Eastern" than African to me, as most of the citizens are Arab andmixed-race, and few have black skin. As we landed in Tunis, we were escorted to a nice waiting roomwhile we waited for an army-green shuttle bus to take us to our hotel. Theytreat all these visiting doctors very well! As we drove to our hotel, Iadmired the Islamic architecture (mosques, minarets, domes on buildings) andwas thinking of Isaac as I saw groups of barefoot boys playing soccer ondirt fields - "football" truly is the universal sport! After registering for the conference, we found our room in theMiramar Carthage Thelasso Hotel. I was so excited to finally relax after aday of traveling. When traveling with squirmy, jetlagged children, I alwaysthink how relaxing it would be to travel without children, so it's alwaysamusing to me how I still get tired and sore while traveling for severalhours, even without children. Security guards are posted all over thishotel property for this conference, which is good since the room has noinside lock but just a flimsy lock that locks when you close the door. Thehotel (and most buildings) are thick cinderblock, with painted tiles allover the bathroom walls, and the floor is a hard floor (with a few throwrugs). We have a little patio (we're on the first floor) and constantlyhear birds chirping. After I lay down for a few minutes, we went outsideand walked around in the dark. Behind the hotel, past a big pool, is aboardwalk down to the beach. We wanted to go out the walkway to the beach,so Lyrad asked a security guard if we could go see the water for 5 minutes.He called ahead to another guard to let us out, and the guard took his huge,barking, snarling, jumping watchdog out of the way so we could walk throughthe opening in the wall. I was quite terrified as I imagined what wouldhappen if the dog pulled loose and went after us. We walked past goat-hairtents (set up for medical displays for medical care in the desert) just likeAbraham lived in. After admiring the beautiful ocean for a few minutes, weheaded back to the DOG. I don't know when I've been so scared as I was whenwalking past that watchdog (with his leash held only casually by his relaxedowner), and that night I had nightmares about dogs. After Lyrad and I bothtold our getting-bitten-by-a-dog stories from our childhoods, we bought abottle of water from the bar (for drinking and brushing teeth) then arrivedat our room and SAFETY. On Monday morning, we enjoyed our hotel breakfast of sautéedtomatoes and zucchini with spices, breads, coconut yogurt, and canned fruit(we're being careful and not eating fresh veggies and fruits, since theycould've been washed in bad water), and I found a new love: crepes. A manstands behind a big griddle and makes whatever kind of eggs one requests,and I loved watching him make a big crepe, fill it with strawberry jam ornutella, then fold it up just like the vendors do on the streets of Paris.After Lyrad went off to a day of lectures, I climbed back into bed and readuntil I fell asleep, then read some more until I fell asleep, then at 11:15I headed down the hall to the indoor pool for my 30 minutes of exercising.I enjoyed swimming around the huge warm pool (only about 2 other people werethere). The ceiling was a big glass dome, so I felt the warm sunshine whileswimming. I am NOT a swimmer and the only stroke I do is my version of thebreathstroke (sometimes on my back, too) but I used lots of muscles I haven't used in a while and it felt good. For lunch we enjoyed Tunisian couscous with sautéed veggies,squash, rice, gazpacho soup, hummus, and dates. Our all-you-can-eatbreakfasts and lunches are provided for us at the hotel restaurant - yum.After lunch I joined a Ladies Tour Group to visit Sidi Bou Said, a populartourist village with tourquoise painted window trim on square whitebuildings. First we toured a palace and admired the ornate interior, thoughI didn't care for the lengthy lectures about the building and itsinhabitants. The view from the palace courtyard was stunning: beaches andbright blue ocean. After the tour, I enjoyed our half hour to walk aroundthe souk (market stalls) looking for ideas of what to buy my children. Iwasn't going to actually buy anything until I'd shopped around a littlemore, and I'd prefer to have Lyrad with me to help me make the decisions,but every time I asked a price of something, the vendors were determined tokeep on me until I committed to buy something. I did get our tour guides toexplain the money to me, so I wouldn't get gypped. (the dinar coin said"100", whereas the bill said "10"; what is worth more? I felt better once Iknew that 10 of the coins equaled one dinar, and the bill was worth 10dinar, which is about 7 dollars) I was very interested in the chess sets,either with brass pieces or wooden pieces. The wooden camels would be cute,and I'm supposed to buy a traditional mask for Leyla Williams who collectsthem. But the masks here are made of CAMEL LEATHER - that could getsmelly!) While I was shopping, I heard an annoying siren-noise that wouldn't stop - and then I figured out that it was the Muslims' call to prayers. Iasked the vendor and he confirmed that it was the call to prayer (though Ididn't see anyone on the street preparing to kneel down and pray). When Irealized our shopping time was about up at 5:15, and the tour guides wereheading down the hill to the bus, I headed toward them and passed all thevendors selling chess sets. The vendors recognized me as someoneinterested in their wares (just because I asked for prices), and begancalling out to me in very broken English to come inside their shop for justa minute. I knew it was time to take off my nametag-necklace when onevendor kept calling, "A-Lee-see-a from the U.S.! The chess set is only 15dinar! 10! 5!" 5 would've really been amazing (that's about $3.50) but I'd just wanted to get an idea of prices; I wasn't planning to buy anything myfirst time at the markets. I took my nametag/necklace off after that, whileshopping. But we're supposed to wear them to show we're part of the group,and I love reading what country the other people are from - there are over70 countries represented here. On the Ladies' Tour, I was the only personfrom the USA in 2 full busloads of people. But I found a few people fromthe UK and Canada who spoke English, and everyone else knows minimalEnglish. Our next stop on the Ladies Tour was to a glass-blowing and rugstore. We watched a few workers working their glass "blobs" over a flamingkiln, as the blobs (on the end of a stick) became beautiful vases orglasses. Shattered glass was all over the floor of the back workroom, butfrom such dirty surroundings it's amazing what beautiful artwork can beproduced. (Kind of like my feeling when touring China's dirty workrooms.)The glass products were way overpriced, and the rugs were nice but I'm notplanning to get an Arabic rug, so after a little while I found a chair andjust read my book (a juvenile WW2 book, Enemy Brothers by Constance Savery).We arrived home at 6:40 and I found Lyrad waiting for me (he finishes at6:00). We walked along the beautiful beach and collected shells; manyshells had little holes made by starfish, so we tried to find matches withholes so Rachel could make earring sets in her "craft shop" (part of ourbedroom, which she's taken over with her desk and craft containers and herstore; it's hard to keep the pile of cardboard boxes and egg cartons downbecause in her eyes everything is a potential art project). She's made manyearrings sets with paper clips, but for the shells we'll give her copperwire. We saw lots of beetles crawling around the fine sand, hordes ofbeautiful shells, and - my favorite - big camels with a baby camel! Wewaded in the water and Lyrad relived his childhood dream of becoming amarine biologist as he inspected every little object on the shore. We weren't very hungry that evening because of ourall-you-can-eat lunch, but finally at 8:00 we caught a taxi in front of thehotel to go to the Renaissance Hotel's Thai Restaurant (White Elephant)about 2 miles away. We love Thai food, and the restaurant was fabulous. Weate egg rolls, spicy chicken soup, vegetable green curry, and phad thai(noodles). Delicious. The taxi ride home cost 8 dinars (as opposed to our5 dinar bill for the earlier taxi ride) but it was a great night out. Thelanguage barrier can be frustrating, even with Lyrad's French, because theArabic speakers can pretend they don't understand him if it works to theiradvantage (ie the taxi driver, the hotel workers). All the Tunisians knowFrench and Arabic, but very little English. The stop sign even has Arabicwriting! We arrived back from dinner at 10:30, which seemed quite late, butwe were to find out the next night that 10:30 was nice and EARLY!! On Tuesday, we went swimming together at 7 a.m. My arms weresore from the day before but we enjoyed our tropical exercise. Lyrad founda bubble massage seat in one corner of the pool and relaxed there while Itried to burn some of the calories from our large meals before another dayof hearty Tunisian food. I enjoyed another crepe for breakfast, then whenLyrad went to classes I scoped out the hotel gift shop for fun things forthe kids. The most fun thing to do on these getaway trips is to pick outthings we think the kids will be excited about! Traditional dresses (for anightgown), jewelry, little beaded boxes, candlestick (for Rachel thepyromaniac), a wooden snake (for our birthday boy), cancelled Tunisianstamps, a camel for the dollhouse people to ride (made of camel leather).lots of unpractical possibilities. I tried to finish KL Auschwitz Seen bythe SS but kept falling asleep, then reading more, then falling asleep. butfor years (of motherhood) I haven't been able to take Sick Days when I'vewanted to, and I've been storing them up until I can someday take a fewweeks of saved Sick Leave and just stay in bed for several days. So I guessI was just taking 2 days of very overdue Sick Days (even though I feelperfectly healthy). After more couscous and vegetables and cooked tomatoesfor lunch, I finally finished the Auschwitz book (very heavy and graphic,but interesting accounts by 3 SS men). Then I headed out to the beach tofinish my Enzio Busche book and begin a book about a Korean woman's life inKorea loaned to me by Loree Katahara. I lay on the beach chair under astraw sunshade roof, enjoying the ocean in front of me. When the breezemade me cold, I moved my legs into the sunshine and soon moved all of myselfinto the sun. These were not the scorching hot Guam beaches I remember, butmore like the breezy beautiful CA beaches. I wanted to get typing on Lyrad's laptop (instead of leaving the Travelogue to write after I arrived home,which would be hard because I'll have a lot to do to get ready to camp inFrance next week and a lot to catch up on after being gone all week) so Ibegan writing this Tuesday afternoon until Lyrad arrived home from hisclasses after 6 p.m. The conference attenders were invited to a Tunisian FolkloreEvening Tuesday night, beginning when we boarded the buses at 7:15. Wedrove to the Acropolonium, a very pretty church we'd seen up on the hill.The church had changed hands many times over the years, so it had bothMuslim architecture and Christian mosaics and paintings. Next we walkedaround the building to the ruins of Carthage, many over 2,000 years old!Carthage was conquered by Hannibal, then the Romans, then the Vandals, andsomehow some of the old pillars from their great buildings have survived.We could see the harbor down below where ships could be hidden. A man inblack ribboned clothes with a scary black mask was dancing around to adrummers beat, while vendors sold some of their crafts. Lyrad was veryimpressed with the man creating a mosaic (cutting pieces of a stone withpliers, then setting the little chunks on a paper with pencil lines) and wemay look for a mosaic to take home. Lyrad is planning his first mosaic tocreate for our house someday, though he may first practice by making abean/legume mosaic with Rachel. After we looked at the booths, includingcute baby turtles in a bowl and a man hammering a name onto a brasswall-hanging plate, we waited a while to enter the huge tent. A huge tenthad been set up to accommodate several hundred people at elaborate dinnertables, with a stage for the entertainment. I've remarked before howAmericans aren't so good at waiting, and I had first-hand experience withthat as I stood in the crowd waiting. I eventually pulled out my Ensign toread (I think Americans have too much of an "I'm wasting time" mindset,whereas others can just chat for hours and to them, hospitality meansspending hours feeding and entertaining their guests) but the most annoyingthing was all the cigarette and pipe and cigar smoke surrounding us. Andthese are DOCTORS smoking! Lyrad can't get over the fact that so manydoctors smoke. After we sat down at a table for 6, 2 very nice Hungariancouples joined us. I sat next to Ildiko from Budapest, whose husband is theSurgeon General of Hungary. He's a very nice man, but he SMOKES! The 3smokers at our table kindly left the table to smoke, luckily for us becausemost smokers just smoked where they sat. Ildiko tried hard to speakEnglish, and when she just couldn't understand me, the Lt. Col. sitting nextto Lyrad would help translate. The other Hungarian wife at our table didn'teven attempt to speak English, but the funny thing about her was she keptputting her cloth napkin around her neck like a bib. Her sweet, friendlyhusband would lovingly try to remove it for her (this was a very formalsetting) but she insisted on wearing it. I never tire of seeing all ofthese cultural differences! We had four forks and multiple knives at eachplace setting, so we got the impression (correctly) that this would be along night! We ate some appetizers (though I gave Lyrad my shrimp witheyeballs) but didn't eat the fresh lettuce. Lyrad and I and maybe a fewmore Americans are the only ones I see being careful about not eating freshveggies nor juices or drinks with ice cubes, but NO ONE else is gettingsick. Maybe it's our American paranoia that drives us to get food poisoningif we accidentally drink any of the local water - maybe it's partly a mentalthing! But I still refuse to drink orange juice at breakfast because itcould be made with tap water. While waiting for each course (at least 30 minutes' wait eachtime) we had plenty of entertainment: Arabic hip dancers (thankfully notimmodest belly dancers) dressed in traditional robes and swiveling theirhips endlessly to the monotone chanting. The dancers were all quite hefty,which surprised me, but Lyrad said many Africans think it's attractive to beso large. When he was running free clinics in rural African villages, womenwould come asking him for steroids so they could be LARGER. In the cities,women have a more "modern" perspective, and those who watch American t.v.pick up the cultural tendencies (often unfortunately) but I was surprisedhow large all the dancers were, with lots of fabric wrapped around theirhips to make their hips seem larger, and pom poms hanging down. (continued writing on the flight to Paris, May 25) The entertainment also included Arabic "singing" (I consider itmoaning and chanting) and instrumental music - mainly percussioninstruments. The Tunisian hospitality was incredible! I had to keepreminding myself what a fantastic once-in-a-lifetime cultural experiencethis 5-course dinner was, when it began to feel tedious. Our first coursewas an appetizer plate; we've enjoyed all the types of olives this week.Next we had a chunk of meat, probably fish. Our main dish was wonderful -couscous with cooked vegetables and lamb (tasted like beef). I don't eatmany foreign meats but loved the couscous and veggies. Next we had a bigbowl of fresh fruit and dates (the only fresh fruit I considered safe arethose with a peel: bananas and oranges), then a plate with little dessertthings (the size of fudge, but things like pistachio balls, candied dates).Quite a good dinner! Finally after midnight when we saw people heading outto where the buses were waiting, we joined the throng of tired people readyto return home. On Wednesday, I slept in then ate my breakfast crepe alonebefore enjoying some reading and typing time in the room. After lunch(rice, couscous, lentil salad, more cakes), we went with a great tour guide(Khalil, though he said we were welcome to call him Denzel Washington) on a4-hour tour of the Carthage ruins. What a thrilling experience to see theremains from thousands of years ago - from the Punic days, then from thedays when the Romans controlled Carthage. In the Carthage Museum, we sawmany artifacts found in graves (including from the graves of many childrensacrificed to their gods when the parents wanted a favor from the gods):jewelry, masks, statues, lamps, even a pottery baby bottle with a little"straw/suction" spout. We loved the old Roman Amphitheater - it was justoff to the side of a road, with no entrance fee or fence around it, so weenjoyed it more than the fenced-off amphitheaters we saw in Italy. We couldclimb underneath the arena (the arena in which gladiators fought animals,and unfortunately, also where Christians were thrown to the lions) and walkdown passageways to the cage/room where the lions and panthers were kept.The vendors were so persistent and followed us for several yards, trying toget us to buy their postcards or whatever else, insisting, "good price!"Quite annoying. Next we drove to the Punic Ports, to see the military portand commercial port used in early Carthage. Because the Carthage area has agreat natural harbor, the Carthaginians could hide their ships in theharbor. Our next stop was to the Roman Baths Remains, an area that seemedlarge enough to be a village. We saw the remains of an old church (fromwhen Christianity took hold in the 300's), with no walls remaining but wecould see the early baptismal font, when Catholic baptisms were stillperformed by immersion. We walked among the basement area which was onceunder the public baths (some pillars and wall fragments still stand). In our van on the tour, we rode with a Swedish couple and 5doctors from Iran. Whenever I meet someone from a foreign country(especially a small one), I rack my brain to think what I might know abouttheir country, and sometimes all I can come up with is the children's bookswe've read about that country. (i.e. the night before, all I could come upwith about Hungary was old traditions of the peasants that I learned in TheGood Master and the Singing Tree, very good books about Hungary but not verypertinent to modern city-dwelling doctors) So I of course told the Swedesthat our favorite thing about Sweden is Pippi Longstocking! They spoke goodEnglish and we had fun talking; they told us about the Swedish schools (someof the best in the world, I've heard). Only one of the Iranians spokedecent English, so he was often translating for his friends. The funniestmoment of the tour for me was when the Iranian had asked Lyrad what kind ofdoctor he was, and Lyrad had replied, "Family Practice", then a few minuteslater the Iranian was telling his friends that Lyrad was a doctorspecializing in Family Planning. I laughed and whispered to Lyrad (who hadn't heard that comment) that he better straighten out that fact, because ifthey find out we have 5 children they would be quite unimpressed with hisFamily Planning specialty. Lyrad tried to explain the joke to the Iranian,who translated it for his friends, but I think the irony was lost intranslation because they just didn't see the humor in it that Lyrad and Isaw. Our next stop was to Sidi Bou Said, to see a museum in a houseand to haggle with the vendors yet again. We enjoyed the wealthy muslim'shouse, with a prayer room, a display of several wedding gowns (7 are neededfor each bride, as the wedding festivities last a week), and we enjoyedclimbing up onto the flat roof/patio to see the view of the town and theocean. The view of all the white square cinderblock houses, with laundryhanging on many roofs, really made me feel as if I was in the Arabic middleeast. Next, we walked among the little shops, looking for fun things forour kiddos (especially for our little birthday boy that day). I kept askingfor prices (just to get an idea of what was charged), but as soon as I askeda price the vendor resolved to not leave me alone until I agreed to buy theitem. As I tried to politely walk away, the vendors either grabbed my arm,followed me, or kept yelling out lower prices to me. Irritating. At thetop of the hill, we found a shop that actually had prices MARKED! It waslike a breath of fresh air! We bought a dish and 2 wooden chess sets (withbronze soldiers, statues and elephants) and postcards. Finally a store with"fair price" and "low price" as the other guys kept claiming. When thestreet vendors saw that we were western tourists, they would quoteridiculous prices to us, such as "60 dinar", then we talked them down toabout a quarter of what they quoted. Lyrad and I got pretty good atdeciding what an item was worth to us, then not settling for any higherprice. It wasn't as simple as that, though, because often I'd buy somethingif it was dirt cheap, but I don't want to offer a dirt cheap price andoffend them. So when I'd say "no, thank you" and walk away, they'd pesterand pester, then when I finally said what I would be willing to pay, they'dbe in disbelief and try to prove why I should pay more. They didn't knowenough English to understand that I wasn't paying more. They thought ifthey hounded me more, I'd give in. What an exhausting pastime is hagglingin the Arab souks! (continued writing, May 29) We arrived back at the hotel at 6 p.m. and had a little time torest before our late night "Gala Dinner" at 9 p.m. After reading for alittle while, we went jogging along the beach for a half hour. The waterwas beautiful, but the shore was sure covered with litter. We avoided allthe fishing poles and I tried to not slow Lyrad down too much. Jogging isnot my favorite mode of exercise, but it felt good to actually burn afraction of the calories we'd consumed in our feasting that week. Weboarded the bus at 8 p.m., then sat at a fancy table in a huge decoratedballroom (with 9 pieces of silverware per person). I felt like I was in "IDream of Jeannie" again with the sheer "genie" fabric hanging from theceiling, and dancers in their Arabic costumes dancing on the stage onceagain. We enjoyed this night's entertainment more than the previous night's, as the singing was performed by a very professional group of women andmany of the songs were prettier than the moaning and chanting, and some ofthe dancing seemed more like "folk dancing" than just "swiveling hipsendlessly". The dancers were heavy and modestly dressed, but the "fashionshow" drove me crazy. It was supposed to be a showing of Tunisian bridalgowns through the years, but all it was was skinny beautiful women marchingdown the walkway trying to see who could show the most skin. We sat downfirst at our table and were joined by 3 Tunisian men, then 2 Namibian women,and 2 more African men. The Tunisian sitting next to me kept drinkingbottle after bottle of wine and became SO friendly with the African mansitting next to him. People all around us were smoking, but I didn't mindso much that night because we'd each been handed a jasmine flower as weentered the room, and I kept taking deep inhales of the wonderful fragranceall through the dinner. Our first course came at 9:30 (olives and somepasty thing, and rolls), and we sat there being entertained until 12:30. Bythe time the second course arrived, I was getting hungry and lookedlongingly at - what was it?-chopped mushrooms with tomatoes and spices? Butas I stirred it around suspiciously on my plate, I noticed several smalltentacles in the mixture. so I tried to pick out some tomatoes butrefrained from eating all the octopus bits! Our next course was fish, and Ideclined the plate but the nice Tunisian men next to Lyrad told the waiterto give it to me anyway, and it was very good! I'm not a seafood fan, butthe Tunisians know how to cook fish. When I saw the waiters bringing outgoblet bowls with lemon ice-cream, I was surprised to think we might behaving dessert already - though it had been long enough, it wasn't enoughfood for a "gala dinner". But it was a mid-dinner dessert, to "cleanse thepalate". It was delicious, like sherbet or sorbet. Next came our maincourse, meat with carrots and potatoes and gravy: very delicious, and a lotlike beef stew (except I think it was lamb). I wished I could've spokenmore with the 2 female Namibian doctors at our table (the only other Englishspeakers; everyone else spoke French) but they were too far away from me andthe entertainment was too loud. I did have Lyrad ask the nice Tunisian mannext to him (in French) if his children had seen "Star Wars" (since thedesert scenes were filmed in Tunisia). He replied that he knew what "StarWars" was, but he was just too busy and hadn't ever watched the movie. Ourkiddos sure thought that was a funny comment! But I grew up in CA andcertainly did not see every movie ever filmed in CA, so of course Tunisiansaren't expected to watch films filmed in Tunisia! (500 extras were paid tobe in the background of the Star Wars movies, so it helped their economy alittle) Our next course was a big bowl of fresh fruit - I only ate whatwas safely inside the peel, plus a few very good dates - then we had apistachio pudding/yogurt dish full of nuts. We sure ate well. We were sotired when arriving home after 12:30 but were grateful for the chance toreally experience the finer parts of Tunisian culture! It's funny howAmerican I am; I get impatient and feel like I'm wasting time, so I'dbrought a stack of postcards to pull out and write on while everyone aroundme was speaking French or a speaker was going on and on. (It would've beentoo rude to pull out my book, but I figured postcards were okay?) We werealso low men on the totem pole, with most conference attenders beingcolonels, surgeon generals, etc. I was probably the only wife who wore thesame outfit both nights, to the 2 fancy dinners. I was thinking "beach" and"relax" so hadn't packed lots of semi-formal outfits as the other women did.At least Lyrad had told me to bring a nice skirt, even if it was worn withmy sandals. On Thursday, Lyrad had the day off so we went sight-seeing allday. We had a great time, with a personal driver all day (we'd arranged forhim through the concierge, and it ended up costing 100 Euro for the day; wewondered if it would've been cheaper to just hire taxis between each place?)who could weave through traffic and get us right to the places we wanted tosee, and quickly. We left the hotel with our driver at 8:40, to stop at theonly American Cemetery in Africa. It was a very neat experience to be there(just like going to Normandy's Cemetery and Lorraine, France's, cemetery).We walked past the wall with thousands of names of soldiers who are missingin action, then gazed out at the rows of white crosses (and a few stars ofDavid). An enthusiastic, retired Marine gave us a tour of the cemetery,showing us a large mosaic map of the North African campaign. He told a fewheroic stories, and I kept thinking about the Roald Dahl autobiography,Going Solo, and his experiences as a pilot in the North African campaign,and how most of his buddies didn't survive WW2. And my grandfather flew inNorth Africa, but was shot down and injured. While he was recovering formonths, his crew perished in the unsuccessful bombing runs over Romania. Sosome of his friends could've been buried there. We stood still while thebells chimed songs about America, and Lyrad and I kept crying, thinking ofthose who fought and died for our freedoms. Having a son who's nearly 14, Ikept thinking, "He's just a little boy!" But in only 4 years he'll be theage of many of those who died fighting in the war. And to their mothers,they were still just little boys. Very touching experience to be there. We next drove a half hour into the big city of Tunis. We'd beenin a more rural part of Tunisia all week, and I'd been wondering where allthe stores were. Tunis was full of tall buildings and was crowded, thoughless than half of the women wore the Arabic robes. It's a very modern city,compared to the rest of Africa and the rest of the middle east. We went tothe Bardo Museum, one of the best ancient museums in the world. It had thecoolest collection of old mosaics, which we loved: animals, landscapes,people, myths. Many covered whole walls, and the floors were all mosaics aswell. We spent over an hour admiring the artifacts, then met up with ourdriver to drive to the nearby Medina, a huge shopping place, like an oldtown souk. Hundreds (if not thousands) of booths are set up indoors, andshopkeepers love to grab a tourist, pull them into their shop, and chargeexorbitant prices for their junk. We haggled for a few things, such as anightgown for Eliza, one for me, local spices, camel earrings for Madi, andLyrad kept looking for The Perfect Mosaics. When he didn't find what hewanted, we decided to go back to Sidi Bou Said to the same pesky venders we'd seen the day before. We made our way out of the walkways between all themarket stalls, then drove 20 minutes with our hearts beating fast: you'dnever guess he was getting paid by the hour, the way he weaved in and out,drove quickly through the left turn lane, then didn't slow down when it wastime to turn but rather swerved to the right in front of the throughtraffic. Whoa. It's always taxi rides like this that do NOT have workingseat belts. At Sidi Bou Said, we walked up the hill in the crowds oftourists, to compare the mosaics. Some merchants recognized me from myprevious 2 trips there and called out to me, "California! California!"Other merchants would call after me, "LADY! LADY! Good price!" When Lyradwas insisting on a price for a mosaic, the vendor said, "But you PROMISED,the other day," and Lyrad was irritated: "I did NOT promise you I'd buy ithere." They don't know much English, but enough to really haggle and bepushy. Lyrad ended up with 4 nice quality wall-hanging mosaics, and I ofcourse found a little more junk for the kiddos, then we headed back from ourfull day of being tourists. We rested and read our books for a little while, then we caughta taxi to the Renaissance hotel (2 km away) to eat at the White ElephantThai restaurant once again. We just loved their food, so once again weenjoyed spicy chicken soup and phad thai (noodles). We read part of an A.Conan Doyle short story together in the lobby while we waited for therestaurant to open. After the meal, we walked home at 8:30 along the beachuntil we found our hotel a half hour later. Beautiful walk! We swam in theindoor pool for our last time, and relaxed on the bubble jet massage seats.Our last night was spent packing up all our fragile goods to get them homesafely. On Friday, we ate our last breakfast at the hotel (my finalcrepe with strawberry jam), then boarded the airport shuttle. We had lotsof time to wait for the plane, which was fine because I was hooked on mybook about Korea, Still Life With Rice - a great read (if edited) forMemorial Day weekend because it's a true story about a Korean family and herexperiences trying to get out of North Korea in 1950, then her son getsstuck in North Korea and she doesn't hear from him for FORTY YEARS! Ireally take my freedom for granted. The Korean woman somehow got out ofNorth Korea on foot with her other 4 children, starving nearly to death andmiraculously surviving so much danger. A very hard-to-put-down book, whichis great for a long day of airports and airplanes. Once again we had a veryFrench meal on the airplane, with slices of a loaf made of eggs andvegetables, like slices of a quiche. One of the best parts of traveling is bringing home surprisesfor the children! After a great dinner of Shirley's pot pie, potatoes, andfoccaccia bread, we gave everyone their surprises. Very fun. It was greatto see them all again and we're so grateful to Shirley for taking care ofthem so well. She survived her week of Controlling the Chaos! Lyrad and I loved our 5 days in Tunisia together and we're sograteful for the chance we had to experience north Africa (and for me, myfirst experience of the Middle East culture) and to spend so much timetogether eating out, walking along the beach, looking for what the childrenwould each like best, haggling for those items in the souks, relaxing in thepool, reading together, and experiencing Tunisian hospitality at dinnersthat dragged on past midnight!
Travelogue -- Poland
Travelogue – Krakow , Poland July 5-7, 2007
Lyrad and I flew on Germanwings (the cheap airline) from Stuttgart to Krakow . We each carried a carry-on bag (no checked baggage) so we could be quicker. As we entered the small Krakow airport lobby at noon, a man held up a sign with Lyrad’s name on it. So we joined our driver and were on our way in his little smoky car. The man (whose wife runs the bed and breakfast I’d signed up for over the internet) spoke virtually no English. We enjoyed the half hour drive past farmhouses and green grass. As we entered the big city, we were fascinated with the beautiful medieval buildings, Polish language on every sign, and were thrilled to find out that our bed and breakfast was a block away from the Wawel Castle complex. We were in the heart of Krakow !
We were led upstairs by the nice driver’s wife (who spoke only a few words of English) and showed to our room. It was a very clean, spacious room, but once again I was misled by advertising and was not pleased with how the room turned out: the internet site claimed to have a refrigerator stocked with breakfast foods, plus fresh bread is delivered every morning, in lieu of eating a breakfast in a dining room. Unfortunately, the only things in the fridge were one container of juice (for both nights, she told us) and little jams and butters for the rolls she delivered in the morning. I was picturing “freshly baked bread” made by her, but all we found in the mornings were 4 hard cheap bakery rolls in a plastic bag hanging from our doorknob. And the bathroom was our own bathroom, but it was across the hall from us (we had the key). And the pillow was a down pillow, which I’m terribly allergic to, so I had to sleep with a pile of clothes for a pillow. (I thought of acting out a duck/goose to try to express to the lady in sign language how I was allergic to the pillow, but I decided it wasn’t worth the effort.) So the room wasn’t worth all the extra we were paying for it (nearly $80 a night; many Polish places cost half of that) but the location was fabulous.
We first walked to the Wawel complex, decided the line for the castle was too long, and instead we toured the spectacular Gothic cathedral. The cathedral was erected in the 1300’s and was the site of many coronations and burials. Elaborate shrines and tombs filled the royal burial chapels in little rooms off of the main cathedral. The funniest thing about this cathedral was how despite its lush décor, on the outside it looked like a “patchwork” church due to all the mismatched chapels added on to the cathedral over the years. Each was founded by a ruler or bishop and was built in the current style of the times. Though Cracow was the capital of Poland for 500 years, the capital moved to Warsaw in 1596. But kings still chose to be crowned and entombed in Wawel.
One of the highlights was the bell tower, housing the largest bell in Poland (6 ft. in diameter), the Zygmunt Bell. As we walked up old wooden staircases past several other large bells, it was fun to picture the bell ringers who might have climbed these same stairs in 1520 (when the bell was built). We felt like Quasimodo in The Hunchback of Notre Dame.
After walking around the castle complex and admiring the cathedral’s exterior, we headed for the other highlight of Krakow : the old town square. Krakow escaped significant damage during WW2 (unlike Warsaw ) so the medieval buildings are beautiful to see. We climbed up the City Hall Tower (the only remaining part of the old Hall) and enjoyed the view. Also in the Main Market Square was the Cloth Hall: a renaissance building which sold cloth hundreds of years ago. Today, market stalls abound underneath the cloth hall, selling more than just cloth (some pottery, jewelry such as amber, touristy mugs and t-shirts, nativity scenes). We went up into the cloth hall hoping to see some of the Polish National Museum , but all that was displayed there now was a crazy modern art display. Luckily, the man at the entrance waved us in without charging admission, or I would’ve been demanding my money back. What weird pieces of art we saw! A toddler (made of wood) banged his head loudly against a wall, a shoe with a hole in its toe was stuck to the wall with a long sheet hanging out of the toe, t.v. screens were on a piece of art and the t.v. was showing bizarre home videos, wooden bird cages with real birds in them were stuck to another colorful panel, and the originality and oddity of it all went on and on. I readily admit that I do not appreciate modern art.
We saw the Church of St. Mary , where the trumpeter of Krakow blew the hourly “hejnal” (trumpet call). As the story goes, a trumpeter blew his trumpet in warning as the tartars were invading (around 800 years ago), and a tartar shot and killed him with an arrow as the trumpeter was bravely playing his song. Ever since then, the trumpet call has been played (and now broadcast) hourly, stopping in the middle of a phrase, in memory of the medieval trumpeter. We listened to the hejnal as I read Lyrad the story of the trumpeter in the Polish folktales book I’d just bought for Josh and Rachel. Next we went inside the very gaudy St. Mary’s Church and saw the 39-foot-high gothic Altar of the Virgin (built in the 1480’s). The Church was built by the citizens of Krakow to rival the Wawel Royal Cathedral. The most fascinating part to me was watching the worshippers in the roped-off section of the church (the back part) taking their part at the confession booth. No, they didn’t appear to give money to the priest, but I still watched closely to see what would happen! We thought it very interesting that the worshippers (with free entrance through a back door) could sit in the back part of the church, while the tourists (who pay to enter) got to see all the best parts in the front.
For dinner, we found a restaurant with great Polish food. We ate borscht (pureed red beet soup with beans) and loved it. I loved my potato pierogies (like raviolis) and Lyrad enjoyed his fish. We tried fried pineapple pie for dessert. The weather had been cool with some light showers (just like “summer” in Germany ) and after a nice 10-minute walk past the 2nd oldest university in Europe (after Prague ’s), we arrived home to our room with plenty of reading time. I re-read the Trumpeter of Krakow (a medieval juvenile adventure, but this time through I recognized most of the streets and sites mentioned) while Lyrad tried to finish James Michener’s Poland , which he’s been reading for months. I’d also brought along Queen Bees and Wannabes, a book about teenage girls, cliques, gossip, etc, since I have two 12-year-olds entering junior high.
On Friday, we left our room at 7:40 for a long walk to the train station. We wanted to catch the 8:00 bus to Oswiecim ( Auschwitz ), but the bus station was harder to find than we thought. So we caught an 8:30 bus, and for just a few dollars we rode the 1 ½ hours to Aushwitz. (going with a tour guide costs $30 and takes all day). We didn’t want to spend all day there since we’ve been to Dachau Concentration Camp twice and we wanted to see all the medieval sites in Krakow, but since we’ve read so much about Auschwitz I really wanted to go there however briefly. Dachau was a “work camp”, whereas Auschwitz was the largest “extermination camp” the Germans created. We watched the film (live footage), then walked through the camp and stopped inside some of the barracks. Many of the barracks have been made into museums, such as “Austrian Jews”, “ Holland ,” “ France ”. We saw a wall of photos of French children who died in Auschwitz . The most gripping museum by far was the Museum dedicated to showing proof of what happened there. We saw the extensive pile of shoes behind glass: children’s shoes, women’s sandals, baby shoes. We saw piles (several meters long) of suitcases belonging to Auschwitz victims, with names and addresses optimistically written on them. What a touching experience to be there. Lyrad and I had both recently read I was Dr. Mengele’s Assistant, so it was creepy to walk past Block 19 and other barracks where deathbed patients lay and medical experiments took place. And though we didn’t see all of it and we didn’t go a few kilometers away to Birkenau, it was definitely an emotional experience we will never forget.
We rode the mini-bus back to Krakow by 1:00 and had the rest of the day to sightsee. We admired the fabulous art collection in the Czartoryski Museum , a private collection that included handicrafts and carving. The watercolor paintings were just breathtaking, including the museums’s 2 most famous works: Leonardo da Vinci’s “Lady with an Ermine”, and Rembrandt’s “Landscape with Good Samaritan”.
Next we walked through the town to get to the Jewish Quarter. We walked through a Jewish museum in a synagogue, walked past a few other synagogues, and read about a Polish (non-Jewish) pharmacist who is a definite hero: When he was ordered to move his pharmacy to another part of town so he wouldn’t be in the Jewish Ghetto (during WW2), he insisted that he would stay where he was. So the Germans allowed him to stay, and he was a true man of mercy to the suffering Jews. He filled many prescriptions, sneaked food to people, gave mothers sedatives to give to their babies if they were taking their babies into hiding, and saved people in many other ways. Oskar Schindler also lived in this area; his factory where he employed (and saved) many Polish Jews was around there. I’ve read Schindler’s List and was impressed by his saving hundreds of people who would have otherwise been killed, but I was so disappointed in his unfaithfulness to his wife. We passed a Pierogie Café and tried 2 new pierogies: rhubarb pierogies, and tomato and basil pierogies. Yum. We stopped in a Polish pottery store and I picked out some salt and pepper shakers for me, and we debated over what to get for Stacy Miller, who was babysitting for us. (We finally called her, and she assured us that she would NOT use it, so we shouldn’t buy it for her.) That evening, we walked back to the Main Market Square in hopes of attending a concert that night. We found tickets to a Chopin piano concert in an old building (not a church, but we tried!) and just loved it. After an hour of fabulous playing, we clapped so hard for him that he gave us an encore, which I think was the highlight of the Poland trip for me: he played March Militaire! It was awesome. We then looked for a restaurant open late so we could eat dinner at 9 p.m. We finally found a good one and enjoyed some more borscht (this time with hard boiled eggs in it) and potato pierogies. I love Polish food.
On our last morning in Poland , we packed up and walked to the Wawel Complex to buy tickets to go inside the castle. We bought tickets to see the Royal private rooms. I loved the huge Biblical tapestries on the walls of the kings’ rooms. Next, we walked through the Dragon’s Den and came out by the Wasel River . According to legend, a dragon was terrorizing Krakow until a boy came up with a plan: he made a pile of explosives and covered it with a goatskin and left it outside the entrance to the dragon’s cave. When the dragon tried to eat it, the dragon was killed and the city was free.
Our last few stops in Krakow included: buying a Polish pottery soup tureen for us (picked out by Lyrad, but I love it, too), buying potato pierogies in a store to take home and cook for the kiddos, and buying blueberry pierogies and cheese pierogies to eat on the way to the airport. At the airport, our 2 carry-ons surpassed the weight limit, so we had to check a bag this time, then we enjoyed peaceful reading time on our flight back to Stuttgart .
As we picked up our luggage in Stuttgart , I looked toward the glass barrier and saw all of my sweet little ones waving excitedly as they stood waiting with Stacy. It was so fun to see them as they mauled us with hugs. Joshua jumped into my arms and the first thing he said was, “Mom, I KNEW you’d be wearing that!” (The movers took most of our clothes, so I guess I wear the same few outfits over and over now!) We drove home while the children enthusiastically told us how much fun they had with Stacy: they went to the carnival on base and rode a lot of rides, watched movies on Dad’s laptop, went to see “Ratatouille” in the Patch Theater, played lots of UNO games, and went to Stacy’s house. They didn’t miss us at all, and I KNOW they had more fun at home with Stacy than they would’ve had walking and walking through cold and rain and crowds in Poland . As Stacy assured me that the children were very good, Rachel and Josh piped in something about “spitting and biting.” Stacy smiled and said, “Okay, other than the spitting and biting, they were wonderful.” Stacy told Paula that our house was like “Little House on the Prairie” as everyone happily did their chores. Nothing like a good threat; I’d warned the children beforehand that I’d be asking if anyone ever saw Stacy wash dishes or sweep a floor, and I BETTER NOT hear that she had to clean up. Rachel made most of the meals (top ramen, refried beans on tortillas, chicken patties on buns) and she loved having all the kid-food she loves.
So Krakow was beautiful, it’s always great to “getaway” with Lyrad, and I am now so saturated with travel that I don’t think I will miss traveling-in-Europe for a very long time. I will miss the wonderful people I knew in Germany , but I no longer have regrets about all the places we didn’t visit in Europe . After all, the cities start to look very similar after a while, and the churches, castles, and cathedrals aren’t as impressive after I’ve seen so many that they begin to run together in my memory. But I’m grateful that Lyrad and I had a chance to see medieval Krakow , Poland , together, for our last trip as German residents.
Lyrad and I flew on Germanwings (the cheap airline) from Stuttgart to Krakow . We each carried a carry-on bag (no checked baggage) so we could be quicker. As we entered the small Krakow airport lobby at noon, a man held up a sign with Lyrad’s name on it. So we joined our driver and were on our way in his little smoky car. The man (whose wife runs the bed and breakfast I’d signed up for over the internet) spoke virtually no English. We enjoyed the half hour drive past farmhouses and green grass. As we entered the big city, we were fascinated with the beautiful medieval buildings, Polish language on every sign, and were thrilled to find out that our bed and breakfast was a block away from the Wawel Castle complex. We were in the heart of Krakow !
We were led upstairs by the nice driver’s wife (who spoke only a few words of English) and showed to our room. It was a very clean, spacious room, but once again I was misled by advertising and was not pleased with how the room turned out: the internet site claimed to have a refrigerator stocked with breakfast foods, plus fresh bread is delivered every morning, in lieu of eating a breakfast in a dining room. Unfortunately, the only things in the fridge were one container of juice (for both nights, she told us) and little jams and butters for the rolls she delivered in the morning. I was picturing “freshly baked bread” made by her, but all we found in the mornings were 4 hard cheap bakery rolls in a plastic bag hanging from our doorknob. And the bathroom was our own bathroom, but it was across the hall from us (we had the key). And the pillow was a down pillow, which I’m terribly allergic to, so I had to sleep with a pile of clothes for a pillow. (I thought of acting out a duck/goose to try to express to the lady in sign language how I was allergic to the pillow, but I decided it wasn’t worth the effort.) So the room wasn’t worth all the extra we were paying for it (nearly $80 a night; many Polish places cost half of that) but the location was fabulous.
We first walked to the Wawel complex, decided the line for the castle was too long, and instead we toured the spectacular Gothic cathedral. The cathedral was erected in the 1300’s and was the site of many coronations and burials. Elaborate shrines and tombs filled the royal burial chapels in little rooms off of the main cathedral. The funniest thing about this cathedral was how despite its lush décor, on the outside it looked like a “patchwork” church due to all the mismatched chapels added on to the cathedral over the years. Each was founded by a ruler or bishop and was built in the current style of the times. Though Cracow was the capital of Poland for 500 years, the capital moved to Warsaw in 1596. But kings still chose to be crowned and entombed in Wawel.
One of the highlights was the bell tower, housing the largest bell in Poland (6 ft. in diameter), the Zygmunt Bell. As we walked up old wooden staircases past several other large bells, it was fun to picture the bell ringers who might have climbed these same stairs in 1520 (when the bell was built). We felt like Quasimodo in The Hunchback of Notre Dame.
After walking around the castle complex and admiring the cathedral’s exterior, we headed for the other highlight of Krakow : the old town square. Krakow escaped significant damage during WW2 (unlike Warsaw ) so the medieval buildings are beautiful to see. We climbed up the City Hall Tower (the only remaining part of the old Hall) and enjoyed the view. Also in the Main Market Square was the Cloth Hall: a renaissance building which sold cloth hundreds of years ago. Today, market stalls abound underneath the cloth hall, selling more than just cloth (some pottery, jewelry such as amber, touristy mugs and t-shirts, nativity scenes). We went up into the cloth hall hoping to see some of the Polish National Museum , but all that was displayed there now was a crazy modern art display. Luckily, the man at the entrance waved us in without charging admission, or I would’ve been demanding my money back. What weird pieces of art we saw! A toddler (made of wood) banged his head loudly against a wall, a shoe with a hole in its toe was stuck to the wall with a long sheet hanging out of the toe, t.v. screens were on a piece of art and the t.v. was showing bizarre home videos, wooden bird cages with real birds in them were stuck to another colorful panel, and the originality and oddity of it all went on and on. I readily admit that I do not appreciate modern art.
We saw the Church of St. Mary , where the trumpeter of Krakow blew the hourly “hejnal” (trumpet call). As the story goes, a trumpeter blew his trumpet in warning as the tartars were invading (around 800 years ago), and a tartar shot and killed him with an arrow as the trumpeter was bravely playing his song. Ever since then, the trumpet call has been played (and now broadcast) hourly, stopping in the middle of a phrase, in memory of the medieval trumpeter. We listened to the hejnal as I read Lyrad the story of the trumpeter in the Polish folktales book I’d just bought for Josh and Rachel. Next we went inside the very gaudy St. Mary’s Church and saw the 39-foot-high gothic Altar of the Virgin (built in the 1480’s). The Church was built by the citizens of Krakow to rival the Wawel Royal Cathedral. The most fascinating part to me was watching the worshippers in the roped-off section of the church (the back part) taking their part at the confession booth. No, they didn’t appear to give money to the priest, but I still watched closely to see what would happen! We thought it very interesting that the worshippers (with free entrance through a back door) could sit in the back part of the church, while the tourists (who pay to enter) got to see all the best parts in the front.
For dinner, we found a restaurant with great Polish food. We ate borscht (pureed red beet soup with beans) and loved it. I loved my potato pierogies (like raviolis) and Lyrad enjoyed his fish. We tried fried pineapple pie for dessert. The weather had been cool with some light showers (just like “summer” in Germany ) and after a nice 10-minute walk past the 2nd oldest university in Europe (after Prague ’s), we arrived home to our room with plenty of reading time. I re-read the Trumpeter of Krakow (a medieval juvenile adventure, but this time through I recognized most of the streets and sites mentioned) while Lyrad tried to finish James Michener’s Poland , which he’s been reading for months. I’d also brought along Queen Bees and Wannabes, a book about teenage girls, cliques, gossip, etc, since I have two 12-year-olds entering junior high.
On Friday, we left our room at 7:40 for a long walk to the train station. We wanted to catch the 8:00 bus to Oswiecim ( Auschwitz ), but the bus station was harder to find than we thought. So we caught an 8:30 bus, and for just a few dollars we rode the 1 ½ hours to Aushwitz. (going with a tour guide costs $30 and takes all day). We didn’t want to spend all day there since we’ve been to Dachau Concentration Camp twice and we wanted to see all the medieval sites in Krakow, but since we’ve read so much about Auschwitz I really wanted to go there however briefly. Dachau was a “work camp”, whereas Auschwitz was the largest “extermination camp” the Germans created. We watched the film (live footage), then walked through the camp and stopped inside some of the barracks. Many of the barracks have been made into museums, such as “Austrian Jews”, “ Holland ,” “ France ”. We saw a wall of photos of French children who died in Auschwitz . The most gripping museum by far was the Museum dedicated to showing proof of what happened there. We saw the extensive pile of shoes behind glass: children’s shoes, women’s sandals, baby shoes. We saw piles (several meters long) of suitcases belonging to Auschwitz victims, with names and addresses optimistically written on them. What a touching experience to be there. Lyrad and I had both recently read I was Dr. Mengele’s Assistant, so it was creepy to walk past Block 19 and other barracks where deathbed patients lay and medical experiments took place. And though we didn’t see all of it and we didn’t go a few kilometers away to Birkenau, it was definitely an emotional experience we will never forget.
We rode the mini-bus back to Krakow by 1:00 and had the rest of the day to sightsee. We admired the fabulous art collection in the Czartoryski Museum , a private collection that included handicrafts and carving. The watercolor paintings were just breathtaking, including the museums’s 2 most famous works: Leonardo da Vinci’s “Lady with an Ermine”, and Rembrandt’s “Landscape with Good Samaritan”.
Next we walked through the town to get to the Jewish Quarter. We walked through a Jewish museum in a synagogue, walked past a few other synagogues, and read about a Polish (non-Jewish) pharmacist who is a definite hero: When he was ordered to move his pharmacy to another part of town so he wouldn’t be in the Jewish Ghetto (during WW2), he insisted that he would stay where he was. So the Germans allowed him to stay, and he was a true man of mercy to the suffering Jews. He filled many prescriptions, sneaked food to people, gave mothers sedatives to give to their babies if they were taking their babies into hiding, and saved people in many other ways. Oskar Schindler also lived in this area; his factory where he employed (and saved) many Polish Jews was around there. I’ve read Schindler’s List and was impressed by his saving hundreds of people who would have otherwise been killed, but I was so disappointed in his unfaithfulness to his wife. We passed a Pierogie Café and tried 2 new pierogies: rhubarb pierogies, and tomato and basil pierogies. Yum. We stopped in a Polish pottery store and I picked out some salt and pepper shakers for me, and we debated over what to get for Stacy Miller, who was babysitting for us. (We finally called her, and she assured us that she would NOT use it, so we shouldn’t buy it for her.) That evening, we walked back to the Main Market Square in hopes of attending a concert that night. We found tickets to a Chopin piano concert in an old building (not a church, but we tried!) and just loved it. After an hour of fabulous playing, we clapped so hard for him that he gave us an encore, which I think was the highlight of the Poland trip for me: he played March Militaire! It was awesome. We then looked for a restaurant open late so we could eat dinner at 9 p.m. We finally found a good one and enjoyed some more borscht (this time with hard boiled eggs in it) and potato pierogies. I love Polish food.
On our last morning in Poland , we packed up and walked to the Wawel Complex to buy tickets to go inside the castle. We bought tickets to see the Royal private rooms. I loved the huge Biblical tapestries on the walls of the kings’ rooms. Next, we walked through the Dragon’s Den and came out by the Wasel River . According to legend, a dragon was terrorizing Krakow until a boy came up with a plan: he made a pile of explosives and covered it with a goatskin and left it outside the entrance to the dragon’s cave. When the dragon tried to eat it, the dragon was killed and the city was free.
Our last few stops in Krakow included: buying a Polish pottery soup tureen for us (picked out by Lyrad, but I love it, too), buying potato pierogies in a store to take home and cook for the kiddos, and buying blueberry pierogies and cheese pierogies to eat on the way to the airport. At the airport, our 2 carry-ons surpassed the weight limit, so we had to check a bag this time, then we enjoyed peaceful reading time on our flight back to Stuttgart .
As we picked up our luggage in Stuttgart , I looked toward the glass barrier and saw all of my sweet little ones waving excitedly as they stood waiting with Stacy. It was so fun to see them as they mauled us with hugs. Joshua jumped into my arms and the first thing he said was, “Mom, I KNEW you’d be wearing that!” (The movers took most of our clothes, so I guess I wear the same few outfits over and over now!) We drove home while the children enthusiastically told us how much fun they had with Stacy: they went to the carnival on base and rode a lot of rides, watched movies on Dad’s laptop, went to see “Ratatouille” in the Patch Theater, played lots of UNO games, and went to Stacy’s house. They didn’t miss us at all, and I KNOW they had more fun at home with Stacy than they would’ve had walking and walking through cold and rain and crowds in Poland . As Stacy assured me that the children were very good, Rachel and Josh piped in something about “spitting and biting.” Stacy smiled and said, “Okay, other than the spitting and biting, they were wonderful.” Stacy told Paula that our house was like “Little House on the Prairie” as everyone happily did their chores. Nothing like a good threat; I’d warned the children beforehand that I’d be asking if anyone ever saw Stacy wash dishes or sweep a floor, and I BETTER NOT hear that she had to clean up. Rachel made most of the meals (top ramen, refried beans on tortillas, chicken patties on buns) and she loved having all the kid-food she loves.
So Krakow was beautiful, it’s always great to “getaway” with Lyrad, and I am now so saturated with travel that I don’t think I will miss traveling-in-Europe for a very long time. I will miss the wonderful people I knew in Germany , but I no longer have regrets about all the places we didn’t visit in Europe . After all, the cities start to look very similar after a while, and the churches, castles, and cathedrals aren’t as impressive after I’ve seen so many that they begin to run together in my memory. But I’m grateful that Lyrad and I had a chance to see medieval Krakow , Poland , together, for our last trip as German residents.
Favorite quotes (compiled in 2004)
One day my three-year-old, Rachel, wanted me to play Dominoes with her,which meant my lining the dominoes up in long lines so she could knock themover. After I said I couldn't play Dominoes with her just then because Iwas busy, she lifted the directions out of the box and pointed to the wordswith her finger, pretending to read what it said. "DO DOMINOES WITH YOURMOM. NOT BY YOURSELF," she "read" very loudly and slowly to me.My seven-year-old twins become concerned with the important issues of lifeat times. One day Mary asked me in a worried voice, "Mommy, is it okay tosay no when someone asks you to marry you?" Her sister Madison quickly pipedin, "Yes, but it would be embarrassing."
When four-year-old Rachel went to the dentist for the first time, she was soexcited to pick out a new toothbrush. But even better was the little toyshe received from the prize box at the end of her visit. When Daddy camehome from work that night, Rachel ran to him so proudly and squealed inexcitement, "We went to the dentist! I WON and got a prize!"
Halloween and pumpkins can be so fun for children! But I had no idea howheartbreaking the pumpkin-experience could be for my seven-year-old, Madi.Madi picked out a pumpkin at the pumpkin patch and named it Harold. Sheconsidered it her pet. I enjoyed how a pumpkin is easier and quieter than apet kitten or puppy, but the disadvantage of a "pet pumpkin" is that Madisure got upset when I tried to boil the pumpkin to make pie. She criedabout how I cooked "Harold" and wouldn't forgive me for my brutality, formonths. In October, my four-year-old Rachel loved reaching into pumpkins andpulling out the slime and seeds. As we cleaned out a few pumpkins, Rachelwatched closely and evaluated each pumpkin. She was trying to decide thegender of each pumpkin! She looked inside the biggest pumpkin and said, "Ican tell that's a boy." "Why?" I asked in surprise. "Cuz the boy ones arebig.and cuz girls have more hair (strings) than boys."One of the first things I learned about motherhood was that the warm fuzzymoments I saw in parenting magazines (such as a smiling mother rocking asleeping baby in a clean house) do not last all day long. Those moments arescattered here and there between many messes, endless errands, dirty dishes,whining, screaming, bickering, and the list goes on. But of course thosemoments of joy are what make all the drudgery worth it. One day when MaryElizabeth was 5-years-old, she ran to me with a big smile while holding outa handful of wildflowers. "Save them! I'm going to put them on your gravewhen you die!" she exclaimed.
ANIMALSOne of the best things about childhood is ANIMALS - whether it's pretendingto be animals, visiting animals at the zoo, or making farm animal soundswhile reading books about a farm. While visiting the zoo, two-year-oldJoshua loved to find tiny baby animals in the cages with their mommies."That's ME!" he squealed when he saw a baby sheep. But while feeding andpetting goats, a mean goat kicked Joshua. Joshua's feelings were hurt, andhe yelled at the unkind goat, "IS YOU NICE?" One day four-year-old Mary Elizabeth was walking around our front yardcollecting wildflowers and pretty rocks. Suddenly she came bursting throughthe front door, breathless with excitement over her latest discovery. "Wesaw LION POOP on the sidewalk!" she exclaimed. Then she added, to reassureme, "But no lion." I was excited for her but also grateful that she'd leftTHAT great discovery on the sidewalk instead of adding it to her collectionof treasures. Another time Mary Elizabeth was helping me tape boxes with silver ducttape. "What is this made out of?" she asked suspiciously. "Is this madeout of gray ducks?" Two-year-old Joshua is a different animal every day. "You mommy seal, Ibaby seal," he informs me. Though we have to be careful because some dayshe's a tiger that chases people and actually bites them, or a kitty thatlicks anyone in his path.Nine-year-old Isaac is fascinated with birds. He stares at bird fieldguides, watches birds with his binoculars, and identifies the feathers andbirds eggs he finds. However, I can only tolerate certain aspects of thisintense interest in birds. I discovered my "limit" one day when he raninside with a pile of bird droppings he had dissected. My budding scientistoften asks me dreamily, "Mom, tell me the truth. Do you think birds areflotsam and jetsam of the animal world or spectacular winged wonders?"
The Creative Arts of ChildhoodMy children love to express themselves creatively with crayons, play-dough,and rubber stamps. I love their drawings and creations, though I'm LESSexcited about artwork that doesn't stay on the paper or table or chalkboard.When five-year-old Rachel had decorated her body with ballpoint pen, sheknew she'd get in trouble so she explained that she was decorating her bodylike the Indians she saw in a book. "I saw an Indian write onitself .Little papooses draw on them." Another time, Rachel had stamped herarms over and over with our return-address rubber stamp. "This is so if Iget lost, people will know where to send me," she explained. Two-year-old Joshy enjoys scribbling all over a paper with as manydifferent color crayons as he can. But when he first tried using the whitecrayon, he looked up at me so sadly and said, "This doesn't work." Joshy's favorite color is green. When he was drawing with a greencrayon, he showed me his picture and asked me, "Do you like green?" "Yes, Ilike green," I replied in a monotone voice, as I was thinking aboutsomething else. The poor guy wanted his mother to show a little moreenthusiasm for his drawing. "Say, 'OH! I LOVE IT!" he prompted me in a highvoice. Joshua also loves to make worms with his play-dough. He rolls out wormsof all lengths and widths, then lines up all the worms and shows us who'sthe mommy, daddy, baby, sisters, and brothers. One day he worked very hardon a large worm but was very disappointed at how lumpy and smashed his wormlooked. So he tried to make another worm and was so pleased with how bigand round it turned out. He held up his smooth fat worm and squealed inpride, "Now it's not a DEAD WORM! It's a HAPPY worm!"
New babies.After I gave birth to our fourth child, three-year-old Mary Elizabeth cameto visit our new baby Rachel and me at the hospital. She was verydisappointed as she watched the sleeping baby lie there doing nothingexciting. "I WISH we had a baby that CRIED," Mary Elizabeth said with ascowl.A few weeks later I took newborn Rachel on a walk with the other children.When three-year-old Madison noticed that Rachel was sitting in the stroller,Madison was upset at losing her place in the stroller. After glaring at thenew baby, Madison scowled at me and demanded, "Put her BACK in your tummy."When I was expecting our fifth child, my other children were very excited tosee what kind of baby would join our family. Three-year-old Rachel kepthoping I'd give birth to a baby BUNNY. Seven-year-old Isaac asked with bigeyes, "Wouldn't it be surprising if a DOLLY came out of Mommy's tummy?" One day when I was very pregnant, Rachel lay down on the couch, takingquick sharp breaths. I looked at her, wondering if she was sick, and shesmiled at me and explained, "My baby's kicking!" Then she lifted up hershirt to show us how her tummy was going up and down. One night as I was tucking Rachel into bed while holding fussy newbornJoshua, I told Rachel to say her prayers. Rachel looked at me in confusion."Heavenly Father can't hear me cuz the baby's crying," she explained. Because she had practiced so long with her dollies, Rachel felt veryconfident in picking up Joshua. Once when I heard the baby crying, I raninto the living room, where I'd left Joshua lying on the floor. "I almostmade the baby do ballet---stand on his head," Rachel explained. It'samazing babies survive their older siblings!
Because my husband is an Air Force doctor, our family has been able totravel all over the world. When we found out we would soon be moving toEngland, eight-year-old Isaac's eyes lit up in excitement. "I CAN'T WAIT toask the British how they feel about LOSING the Revolutionary War!" heexclaimed.In England, five-year-old Rachel was very sad to be left at home while Iwent to see the musical of "The Scarlet Pimpernel" with her older brotherand sister. After I explained the story line and the reasons behind theFrench Revolution, Rachel broke down in tears. "IT'S NOT FAIR! I've nevereven SEEN a guillotine!" (as if "seeing a guillotine" is one of those ritesof childhood, right along with "eating an ice-cream cone" or "playing at thepark.") After touring one of Henry VIII's castles near London, Rachel was veryinterested in where all the heads were (from the beheadings) and keptlooking for them as we walked through the beautiful gardens. And inScotland, our family visited Stirling Castle. As we entered the town, Itold the children a brief history of Stirling and described the battles thathad been fought on these very grounds. Rachel peered out the window andscrutinized the bright green grass for signs of past battles, but wasn'timpressed. "Not much blood," she reported.BAD GUYSWhile we were on a month-long cross-country family trip, four-year-oldMadison prayed daily that, "No bad guys will break in our house and stealall my dollies."One day our neighbors came over to tell us some scary news: their house wasbroken into through their unlocked kitchen window while they slept throughit upstairs. They awoke to discover muddy footprints all over the kitchenand to find that things had been stolen. It shook our family up andsix-year-old Rachel was scared and worried all day. She said with so muchemotion, "I WISH robbers were only in FAIRY TALES."
Children & ReligionMy children attend church each Sunday and it's fun to see their knowledge ofGod developing. Seven-year-old Madison asked her Dad a challengingquestion: "Here's the hardest question in the whole world: who do you lovemore, Mommy or Jesus?"When our family was talking about how God knows everything and can doanything, four-year-old Rachel had a great idea: "He could make cars not goso fast so they WOULDN'T CRASH!" she exclaimed. After saying her prayers one night, Rachel began wondering about how shewas born with blonde hair, whereas her parents have brown hair. She asked,"Did Heavenly Father make me?.Your hair's root-beer flavored and my hair'speach-flavored cuz it's yellow." While looking at all the photos of herself in her scrapbook, Rachel had agreat idea. "You should take a picture of clouds, and put it in myscrapbook on the first page, because it would be me in Heaven," sheannounced.Two-year-old Joshy was very excited when he tried to say a prayer all byhimself. He even made up a new ending to replace the "Amen". "Pees bess mego to church. We not fight. We be nice.The end," he prayed so proudly!GRANDMOTHERSMy children's favorite times of the year are when grandparents come tovisit. Is it because the children love the fact that Mom is no longer theultimate authority? A few days before my parents came to visit,five-year-old Rachel told me: "Your mom is coming! She can tell you whatto do! Like, 'Make the dinner' and 'Go to your room.'"While playing at the beach with Grandma, Isaac and Grandma were careful notto go past the buoy lines that marked off the swimming areas. When GrandmaLinna asked why the rope at the beach was placed where it was, Isaac repliedthoughtfully, "I think this is the line where the last person died."While Isaac was playing checkers with Grandma Linna, and she had jumped mostof his pieces, he began losing hope. "It's really looking grim for thefuture," he announced sadly.And when eight-year-old Mary Elizabeth received warm fuzzy penguin jammiesfrom Grandma, she was ecstatic. As she danced around in her new p.j.'s, sheexclaimed, "I just LOVE Grandma Linna. I wish she was MY mom." Thenrealizing that I was listening and that I might have hurt feelings, sheturned to me and assured me, ".And YOU were my AUNT who lived with us."
Be it Ever So HUMBLING, There's No Place Like HomeIf I ever start to think I'm doing a good job as a mother, I can be surethat my children will say something to humble me. One day while playingwith five-year-old Isaac, I remarked happily, "It's fun to be a mommy!"Isaac quickly replied, "Because you get to yell a lot?"Another time when Isaac was displeased with me, he glared at me andannounced, "I WON'T keep you in my memory."While reading Hansel and Gretel to three-year-old Rachel, I commented onwhat a mean mother was in the story-- a mother who wanted to lose herchildren in the forest. To my surprise, Rachel seemed to feel that shecould relate to the poor children. "I wish I didn't have a mean mommy," shesaid sadly. "You are mean since you make me take a nap."Rachel thinks she has it tough. "When I grow up, I'm going to give mychildren candy a lot.I'm not going to let them like oatmeal. I'm going tobuy my children everything they want. I'll do all the work and let mychildren play. I wish YOU would be the kind of mother I will be..." she saidsadly, as she dreamed of the happy future HER children would have.A week before my birthday, six-year-old Rachel told me in great excitement:"You can scream and yell at us all you want on your birthday!" Does shethink I do that for FUN??When I jokingly said, "Mommies can do ANYTHING", five-year-old MaryElizabeth wasn't fooled for a minute. "Mommies can't balance on thehelicopter when it's driving as fast as it goes," she pointed outmatter-of-factly.One day while wearing my favorite old comfortable overalls, six-year-oldRachel asked me, "Did YOUR mom wear those overalls when YOU were a littlegirl?" (I guess they're looking TOO old.)Dads can also receive the same humbling treatment. When seven-year-oldIsaac was mad at Daddy, he told me through his tears, "I'd rather have aBURGLAR for a dad."When I said, "Daddy knows EVERYTHING!" Mary quickly corrected me: "Daddydoesn't know how to spell zucchini without your help.Isaac, Mary and Madi were discussing how much they love Mrs. Webb and howthey wish she was THEIR mother. I was enjoying listening to thisconversation from the next room but had to laugh when 11-year-old Isaacpointed out Mrs. Webb's best mothering quality. "She ONLY gets mad whenlives hang in the balance." Hmmm... isn't there more to motherhood than justkeeping your children alive?? Maybe someday they'll appreciate all thecharacter-building I inflict upon them. But until then, I guess they canhelp me stay humble.One day I was watching four-year-old Madi swinging so happily on our tireswing. When she saw me smiling at her, she called out, "Did you wish YOUwas a kid so you could do this?" It DID look a lot more fun than washingdishes...
FOOD, GLORIOUS FOODSeven-year-old Isaac had quite a sweet tooth and informed me, "I'm likeyeast. I only do well when I'm fed sugar." When two-year-old Joshua was caught trying to get into his big sister'scandy bag, he pretended that he was protecting the candy from others."Monsters can get candy," he explained (with a mouth full of chocolate).When Joshua couldn't open a plastic egg and he knew there was candy in it,he held it out to Rachel and called desperately for help, "HEP! HEP! Dachel,hep open!" as if it were a matter of life and death.When four-year-old Mary Elizabeth didn't finish her meal and as a resultdidn't get a cookie, she didn't take it too hard. (And she didn't want anysiblings gloating to her about their cookies!) "I'm kind-of tired ofcookies. I don't LIKE to get fat and eat too much junk food. I'm glad you're not forcing me to eat it," she announced as she watched everyone elseeating cookies.One night, four-year-old Madi helped me make dinner to take to awheelchair-bound woman who had multiple sclerosis. As we arrived at thewoman's home, Madi asked, "Is this the house of the lady in thewheelbarrow?"When I asked two-year-old Joshy if he was a little bit hungry, he replied ina deep voice, "I BIG hungry."One day Joshy was eating his noodles when suddenly his full bowl was lyingupside down on the floor. Joshy looked so surprised and tried to explainthe mystery tome. "I was eating it, then it FLEW off the table!" he sadly cried.Joshy LOVES "Land Before Time" movies, especially Chomper ("Chop-oh") thedinosaur. When we were getting ready to peel hard-boiled eggs, Joshy pulleda chair over to the counter to stand on and was so anxious to see what wasinside the eggs. "Chop-oh might hatch out of the egg!" he said anxiously.When we were eating broccoli with dinner one night before Daddy arrived homefrom work, four-year-old Madison told me not to save any for Daddy so thatthe children could be stronger and beat Daddy at wrestling. Then they atethe whole pot of it!One day four-year-old Madi was helping me in the kitchen and was excited tobreak eggs. As she slowly watched a cracked egg's contents fall into thebowl, Madi squealed, "I'm making a runny nose!"When four-year-old Mary was helping me make tacos, I sent her to the pantryto find the taco shells. She came out a few minutes later and happilyannounced, "Here are the taco buns!" (like hamburger buns, I guess!)One evening, four-year-old Rachel ate only bread and oranges for dinner.She ate so many oranges, I commented that she might turn INTO an orange.The next morning, as soon as Rachel woke up, I heard her happy (and veryrelieved) voice call out from her bed, "I DIDN'T turn into a orange!"When I told Mary Elizabeth that she was a good eater at lunchtime, shereplied sweetly, "I want to grow as big as the tree so I could pick a leaffor you."Eight-year-old Mary Elizabeth is a hearty eater and was excited to go to herBritish friend's house for "tea" (dinner). When her friend Amy's motherasked what she liked to eat for "tea", Mary Elizabeth promptly replied,"Anything. Except seaweed and fish eyeballs."
LOVEAny normal day with our five children consists of messes to be cleaned upand disagreements to be settled. But if I watch carefully, I can catch theheartwarming moments in which one child shows love to another family member.Those moments make all the hard work of raising children worth it. When I told three-year-old Mary that I loved her so much, she repliedemphatically, "I love you even HARDER." One day four-year-old Madison had one precious gumdrop. She wanted toshare her treasure, so she gave Daddy a nibble of her gumdrop. Then sheheld her gumdrop up to me, for me to take a nibble. When I hesitated, shelet me know that it was perfectly sanitary. "I licked Daddy's germs off,"she reassured me.Two-year-old Joshy loves it when his big sister holds him and "babies" him:"I sad. If you cuddle me, Madi, I be happy," he told her.When we lived in Guam (near the Philippines), Rachel showed me how much sheloved me. Holding two fingers close together, Rachel told me: "I love youthis much when you're mean, but I love you to the United States and backwhen you're nice."When we read about a couple falling in love, five-year-old Mary observed,"Daddy and you get grumpy at the same times. That's why YOU fell in love!"When 2-year-old Mary Elizabeth was stung by a bee, 3-year-old Isaac felt sobad for her that he cried even harder than she did while he told me with allthe feeling of his little heart that he wanted to poke that bee with a pin.One night I was tucking two-year-old Joshua into bed and was so anxious toget him to bed so I could go to bed and try to get rid of my bad headache.When Joshua asked for extra bedtime stories, I told him my head was hurtingtoo much and I was finished reading to him. He looked at me so sweetly andasked, "You need a band-aid?" I laughed and told him no, it wasn'tbleeding. "Poh (poor) Mommy. Poh Mommy," he said sadly. Then hebrightened and asked, "You need a HUG?" So I told him that was JUST what Ineeded. I live for moments like that.
TWINSTwins are truly double the fun. I was blessed with identical twin girls onChristmas Day, nine years ago. Their younger sister, six-year-old Rachel,often wishes she too could be a twin. One day while sitting in our parkedminivan, we saw cute twin toddlers walking along the sidewalk with a parent.I said, "Oh! How cute! Look at the twins!" Then I patted Madi (one of mytwins) and said, "I have a special place in my heart for TWINS!" From theback seat, I heard Rachel's worried voice calling out hopefully, "Do youhave a place for ONLY CHILDRENS??" I assured her I have a special place inmy heart for her too!My twins (Mary and Madi) are the best of friends but at times they can bethe best of enemies. While tucking four-year-old Mary into bed one night, Iasked what her happiest time of the day was. "Kicking Madison duringdinner," she quickly replied.When Madison was crying after being put to bed, Mary said heartlessly,"I don't like the noise. Lock her outside." If Mary wanted something Madi had, Mary insisted, "We're twins. We shareEVERYTHING!" But that was a double standard, because Mary didn't like toshare her own things. Once when Madison wanted to trade shoes, and MaryElizabeth didn't want to, Madison began to feel upset. Mary tried to calmher down by saying, "Remember, we never fight."While trying to fix Mary's hair one morning, I found sticky spots that werehard to brush. When I told her she must have honey in her hair, Maryexplained what REALLY happened. "I heared Madison tangle knots in my hairwhen I was sleeping," she said in disgust. And when Madi had messy tangledhair one morning, Mary couldn't handle Madi's appearance for long. "I feellike I'm in a witch's house when I see Madison's hair. Please fix it," shetold me desperately.One day Mary Elizabeth hit Madison, and Madison was on her way to tell onher. So Mary tried to reason with her. "What matters? Tattletaling orhitting?" Mary asked. "TATTLETALING. That's what matters," she answeredherself decidedly.
SIBLING RIVALRYSibling rivalry is a part of life in any family that has more than onechild. One day when four-year-old Rachel was mad at seven-year-old Mary,Rachel told us what was in store for Mary. "She's going to be a BAD GUYwhen she grows up. She's going to be a thief. I can tell it cuz she'sbeing MEAN." Another time, Rachel was caught whacking Mary on the back. Hoping to avoida consequence for her unkindness, Rachel explained to Mary: "If I hit youon the back, it's a PAT!" After Rachel hurt people with a sharp stick, the stick was taken away fromher. When she wanted her stick back, she tried to show how useful the stickcould be. "I will only kill BAD GUYS with it!" she promised. When I remarked in frustration to Isaac one day that there's too muchfighting in the house (his three sisters couldn't seem to agree onanything), he gave me a new insight. "There's a lot of fighting going intoorganizing anything. There was even a lot of fighting going into the makingof our nation." What a REVOLUTIONARY thought!When Isaac couldn't get a word in edgewise during dinner, he suggested infrustration, "My sisters need a doctor appointment to get their vocalchords smaller because they aren't giving me a chance to talk." When Isaac was six, he thought of a way to get back at his sister. "I knowwhat Mary deserves for Christmas-RATS," he decided. And when tired of beingteased, four-year-old Mary told Isaac passionately, "You hurt my feelings asHARD as you COULD!"FLIESWhile living on the tropical island of Guam, we couldn't keep the flies outof our house. Every time we opened the door, a few flies sneaked in. Oneday, four-year-old Rachel decided she'd take over the fly-control businessand sat on the back of the couch with a fly swatter, waiting for flies toland on the window sill so she could smash them. After catching severalflies this way, she spent a good part of the next few days sitting quietly,watching the window, and waiting for flies. While hiking through the jungleto the beach one day, Rachel couldn't wait to go home; I was very surprisedto hear WHY she wanted to go home: "Catching flies is SO FUN," she saidenthusiastically. "Why?" I squeamishly asked her. In an excited voice, sheanswered, "Cuz you get to, like, smash them dead!" Months later, Rachel decided she liked the flies. When I was trying to getrid of a fly in our house, Rachel stopped me. "That was my pet fly!" sheexclaimed. She began listing off the names of all her "pet flies", tellingme I was killing Louis. One day when my twin girls were four-years-old, they were eating lunch whentwo flies landed on Mary's sandwich. She was so excited. "I saw TWINFLIES!" she squealed. After hearing my rants and ravings about the annoying flies, eight-year-oldIsaac asked me a thought-provoking question: "If WE were flies, would wethink flies are bad?"On Thanksgiving Day, flies kept getting into the house and attacking thefood I was setting out for our feast. I put Isaac in charge of keeping theflies off of our food, but he seemed to feel sorry for the poor little guys(or was he just trying to get out of the job?). When I asked him to killthe flies that were attacking our Thanksgiving meal, he replied, "Oh,Thanksgiving is a time to be nice to EVERYONE, because pilgrims let theIndians come. Everyone knows the Indians have big appetites." What athoughtful guy!
CHRISTMASHaving children around brings so much joy to the Christmas season! After wesang "Grandma got run over by a reindeer" to our children, three-year-oldRachel thought about the song. "Reindeer did run over grandma," sherepeated. Then in a worried voice, she asked, "Was it OUR grandma?"Rachel loved to wrap Christmas gifts, but when she ran out of gifts to wrap,she began grabbing her siblings' toys from their rooms, wrapping it up, andputting it under the tree early in December. Her older sister Mary said infrustration, "Rachel keeps wrapping up my favorite stuff." I assured Maryshe'd get it all back on Christmas. Then Mary said in despair, "But I won'thave anything to play with while I WAIT for Christmas."When two-year-old Joshy opened his big dump truck on Christmas morning, helooked at it and announced, "I want MUD in here."When nine-year-old Madi (who loves to shop) opened some slippers onChristmas Day, she quickly ripped the tag off: "Now you can't take it back," she triumphantly told me.Children also contribute to the stress of the busy Christmas season. OneDecember evening I left our children with a teenage babysitter and returedhome to chaos. While climbing onto the couches and jumping onto the endtables, two-year-old Rachel had broken most of our glass nativity set. WhenRachel saw how disappointed I felt, she tried to cheer me up by pointingout, "But Baby Jesus isn't broken!" When four-year-old Mary was unhappy with her mother the week beforeChristmas,Mary added a new item to her wish list. "I want a NEW MOMMY from Christmas," she said with a scowl.Then after the long weeks of waiting and waiting for a Christmas that seemedlike it would NEVER come, Mary Elizabeth asked in a pouty voice on December26: "How come the Christmas was SO SHORT?"
CHORESWhen I hear my children groaning about their chores, I assure them that theywouldn't be normal children if they LIKED chores. If I didn't teach them tobe responsible, I wouldn't be doing my job properly. If I neglected toteach them well, I could be put in jail for being a bad mom, I explained.Later when nine-year-old Isaac couldn't handle the injustice of all hisresponsibilities, he told me sadly, "All life is, is working for you andmaking sure you aren't put in jail." And another time poor overworked Isaacmuttered, "Life is just a jumble to scramble for free time." Isaac has tried over the years to think of new alternatives to chores, suchas when he didn't like sweeping a few years ago he suggested, "We could letants come in our house and eat up all our little crumbs!" And when I triedto declutter his room of all its many treasures, he said with his 4-year-oldscowl, "I'll get a tow truck to tow you out of my room." He tries to pointout that whatever job he does involves killing something. He explained, "Ifyou vacuum, you kill dust mites. And if you clean the bathroom, you'rekilling germs."Five-year-old Rachel has a perennial unsolved mystery: "A few secondslater, my room gets TOTALLY messy, after I've cleaned it." She just can'tfigure out how that happens.Working with children can often be a fun experience to talk and sing withthe children. One evening, Lyrad reminded eight-year-old Madison (who wasstaring off into space while twisting her hair into a bun) to stay on taskand get busy wiping off the table. She came out of her daydream and quicklyresponded with shining eyes, "But first can I tell you how I want to have myhair on my wedding day?"When two-year-old Joshy was helping me fold laundry, I referred to hisshorts as "pants". He sweetly corrected me: "They're just SHORTS rightnow. When they grow bigger, they're PANTS."One morning I was doing a quick clean in our bathroom that has no windows.Joshy had the strongest desire to shut the door so I'd be in pitchblackness, but I kept my foot in front of the door so he couldn't close it.He wouldn't give up, but tried to talk me into it: "You might be safe inthere! The toilet will be your friend!" he said enthusiastically.
GROWING UPChildren love to daydream about growing up. The day after Rachel's fourthbirthday, we went on a scooter ride and she pointed out how her shadow is somuch bigger now that she's older. Rachel spends much of her free time lostin thought about what to be when she grows up. At first she wanted to be astorekeeper and sell lots of candy, but then one day she announced shewanted to "work in an x-ray" when she grew up. When I asked why, shereplied with a smile, "So I can see peoples' chewed-up food in their bodies". While touring an old castle in England, we climbed up dark staircases andexplored old rooms with vaulted ceilings and huge fireplaces. Becausethree-year-old Joshy thought he was one of the big kids, he started beingvery brave and acting like a monster, saying, "I'm a NIGHTMARE!" Then whenit was time to walk down the dark, very steep spiral staircase, his scaryvoice changed to a little boy voice and I heard him frantically say, "I'mnot a nightmare anymore. I'm a little boy who needs to hold his mommy'shand. Nightmares DON'T hold their mommy's hand." Being young can have its advantages. When I was impressed with all thatseven-year-old Isaac could remember, I told him he must have a better memorythan I have. "Maybe I'm more fresh from being born," he pointed out.SPORTSSeven-year-old Isaac was so excited to begin a boys' gymnastics classincluding plenty of stretching and tumbling. When we asked him what hisfavorite part of gymnastics was, he replied, "Becoming more like spaghetti".When Isaac began his first baseball season, he was ecstatic when all hispracticing paid off and he caught a pop fly. A few hours after the baseballgame was over, Isaac was still walking through our house carrying hisbaseball mitt. When I asked why he was still holding the mitt, he repliedalmost reverently, "This is the mitt that caught the pop fly that made thebatter heartbroken."
OUTDOORSNo matter the weather, Madison loves the great outdoors. When she was threeyears old, I told her about somebody who held a beautiful wedding ceremonyin a backyard. But Madison was not impressed. "That's SILLY. Cuz when youget married in your backyard you might get all dirty in the mud!"A few years later, I was bundled up and freezing cold while watching Madisonand her sisters play in short-sleeved shirts outside. When I commented onhow cold it was, Madison explained why she didn't feel cold. "You believein winter, we believe in spring. Whatever you BELIEVE is what it feels liketo you."HOMESCHOOLINGWhile home schooling five-year-old Rachel, I often tried to save time bypracticing math facts while driving along in the car or listening to herread aloud while I washed dishes. I soon noticed that the desire to take"shortcuts" had rubbed off onto Rachel. As we drove by the Air ForceBase, she enthusiastically told me that she saw a plane taking off ("FROMTHE GROUND", she kept pointing out). Then after a pause, she askedhopefully, "Does that count for my science today?"A few weeks later, we were studying the human body. While eating lunch oneday Rachel asked, "I'm thinking about how my food goes through my body.Does that count for my science today?"
HEALTH/SICKNESSThough children love putting band-aids all over their bodies, they don'talways know how to describe what's wrong when they're feeling poorly. Whenthree-year-old Madison had a headache, she said sadly, "My forehead iswiggling." When she had bug bites all over her body, she called out infrustration, "My tickles don`t stop tickling!" Madison doesn't like herheadaches and bug bites, but she doesn't feel too bad about OTHER people'sinjuries.such as when her daddy was returning from a long trip, she was soexcited and said, "I`m sorry that I will knock Daddy over when I hug him.Then I will crack his head open. I`m sorry that`s how I hug." Then shepointed out happily, "But then we can sew it back together!"When two-year-old Joshua fell asleep in his car seat, he sat on his feet andhis feet fell asleep. He woke up crying, "My feet are buzzing! The bees inmy feet keep buzzing!" Seven-year-old Isaac certainly reads his cereal boxes. One day his dadcame home from working at the hospital, and he told Isaac about a patientwho died of cancer. "Did he eat Cheerios?" Isaac asked suspiciously.
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When four-year-old Rachel went to the dentist for the first time, she was soexcited to pick out a new toothbrush. But even better was the little toyshe received from the prize box at the end of her visit. When Daddy camehome from work that night, Rachel ran to him so proudly and squealed inexcitement, "We went to the dentist! I WON and got a prize!"
Halloween and pumpkins can be so fun for children! But I had no idea howheartbreaking the pumpkin-experience could be for my seven-year-old, Madi.Madi picked out a pumpkin at the pumpkin patch and named it Harold. Sheconsidered it her pet. I enjoyed how a pumpkin is easier and quieter than apet kitten or puppy, but the disadvantage of a "pet pumpkin" is that Madisure got upset when I tried to boil the pumpkin to make pie. She criedabout how I cooked "Harold" and wouldn't forgive me for my brutality, formonths. In October, my four-year-old Rachel loved reaching into pumpkins andpulling out the slime and seeds. As we cleaned out a few pumpkins, Rachelwatched closely and evaluated each pumpkin. She was trying to decide thegender of each pumpkin! She looked inside the biggest pumpkin and said, "Ican tell that's a boy." "Why?" I asked in surprise. "Cuz the boy ones arebig.and cuz girls have more hair (strings) than boys."One of the first things I learned about motherhood was that the warm fuzzymoments I saw in parenting magazines (such as a smiling mother rocking asleeping baby in a clean house) do not last all day long. Those moments arescattered here and there between many messes, endless errands, dirty dishes,whining, screaming, bickering, and the list goes on. But of course thosemoments of joy are what make all the drudgery worth it. One day when MaryElizabeth was 5-years-old, she ran to me with a big smile while holding outa handful of wildflowers. "Save them! I'm going to put them on your gravewhen you die!" she exclaimed.
ANIMALSOne of the best things about childhood is ANIMALS - whether it's pretendingto be animals, visiting animals at the zoo, or making farm animal soundswhile reading books about a farm. While visiting the zoo, two-year-oldJoshua loved to find tiny baby animals in the cages with their mommies."That's ME!" he squealed when he saw a baby sheep. But while feeding andpetting goats, a mean goat kicked Joshua. Joshua's feelings were hurt, andhe yelled at the unkind goat, "IS YOU NICE?" One day four-year-old Mary Elizabeth was walking around our front yardcollecting wildflowers and pretty rocks. Suddenly she came bursting throughthe front door, breathless with excitement over her latest discovery. "Wesaw LION POOP on the sidewalk!" she exclaimed. Then she added, to reassureme, "But no lion." I was excited for her but also grateful that she'd leftTHAT great discovery on the sidewalk instead of adding it to her collectionof treasures. Another time Mary Elizabeth was helping me tape boxes with silver ducttape. "What is this made out of?" she asked suspiciously. "Is this madeout of gray ducks?" Two-year-old Joshua is a different animal every day. "You mommy seal, Ibaby seal," he informs me. Though we have to be careful because some dayshe's a tiger that chases people and actually bites them, or a kitty thatlicks anyone in his path.Nine-year-old Isaac is fascinated with birds. He stares at bird fieldguides, watches birds with his binoculars, and identifies the feathers andbirds eggs he finds. However, I can only tolerate certain aspects of thisintense interest in birds. I discovered my "limit" one day when he raninside with a pile of bird droppings he had dissected. My budding scientistoften asks me dreamily, "Mom, tell me the truth. Do you think birds areflotsam and jetsam of the animal world or spectacular winged wonders?"
The Creative Arts of ChildhoodMy children love to express themselves creatively with crayons, play-dough,and rubber stamps. I love their drawings and creations, though I'm LESSexcited about artwork that doesn't stay on the paper or table or chalkboard.When five-year-old Rachel had decorated her body with ballpoint pen, sheknew she'd get in trouble so she explained that she was decorating her bodylike the Indians she saw in a book. "I saw an Indian write onitself .Little papooses draw on them." Another time, Rachel had stamped herarms over and over with our return-address rubber stamp. "This is so if Iget lost, people will know where to send me," she explained. Two-year-old Joshy enjoys scribbling all over a paper with as manydifferent color crayons as he can. But when he first tried using the whitecrayon, he looked up at me so sadly and said, "This doesn't work." Joshy's favorite color is green. When he was drawing with a greencrayon, he showed me his picture and asked me, "Do you like green?" "Yes, Ilike green," I replied in a monotone voice, as I was thinking aboutsomething else. The poor guy wanted his mother to show a little moreenthusiasm for his drawing. "Say, 'OH! I LOVE IT!" he prompted me in a highvoice. Joshua also loves to make worms with his play-dough. He rolls out wormsof all lengths and widths, then lines up all the worms and shows us who'sthe mommy, daddy, baby, sisters, and brothers. One day he worked very hardon a large worm but was very disappointed at how lumpy and smashed his wormlooked. So he tried to make another worm and was so pleased with how bigand round it turned out. He held up his smooth fat worm and squealed inpride, "Now it's not a DEAD WORM! It's a HAPPY worm!"
New babies.After I gave birth to our fourth child, three-year-old Mary Elizabeth cameto visit our new baby Rachel and me at the hospital. She was verydisappointed as she watched the sleeping baby lie there doing nothingexciting. "I WISH we had a baby that CRIED," Mary Elizabeth said with ascowl.A few weeks later I took newborn Rachel on a walk with the other children.When three-year-old Madison noticed that Rachel was sitting in the stroller,Madison was upset at losing her place in the stroller. After glaring at thenew baby, Madison scowled at me and demanded, "Put her BACK in your tummy."When I was expecting our fifth child, my other children were very excited tosee what kind of baby would join our family. Three-year-old Rachel kepthoping I'd give birth to a baby BUNNY. Seven-year-old Isaac asked with bigeyes, "Wouldn't it be surprising if a DOLLY came out of Mommy's tummy?" One day when I was very pregnant, Rachel lay down on the couch, takingquick sharp breaths. I looked at her, wondering if she was sick, and shesmiled at me and explained, "My baby's kicking!" Then she lifted up hershirt to show us how her tummy was going up and down. One night as I was tucking Rachel into bed while holding fussy newbornJoshua, I told Rachel to say her prayers. Rachel looked at me in confusion."Heavenly Father can't hear me cuz the baby's crying," she explained. Because she had practiced so long with her dollies, Rachel felt veryconfident in picking up Joshua. Once when I heard the baby crying, I raninto the living room, where I'd left Joshua lying on the floor. "I almostmade the baby do ballet---stand on his head," Rachel explained. It'samazing babies survive their older siblings!
Because my husband is an Air Force doctor, our family has been able totravel all over the world. When we found out we would soon be moving toEngland, eight-year-old Isaac's eyes lit up in excitement. "I CAN'T WAIT toask the British how they feel about LOSING the Revolutionary War!" heexclaimed.In England, five-year-old Rachel was very sad to be left at home while Iwent to see the musical of "The Scarlet Pimpernel" with her older brotherand sister. After I explained the story line and the reasons behind theFrench Revolution, Rachel broke down in tears. "IT'S NOT FAIR! I've nevereven SEEN a guillotine!" (as if "seeing a guillotine" is one of those ritesof childhood, right along with "eating an ice-cream cone" or "playing at thepark.") After touring one of Henry VIII's castles near London, Rachel was veryinterested in where all the heads were (from the beheadings) and keptlooking for them as we walked through the beautiful gardens. And inScotland, our family visited Stirling Castle. As we entered the town, Itold the children a brief history of Stirling and described the battles thathad been fought on these very grounds. Rachel peered out the window andscrutinized the bright green grass for signs of past battles, but wasn'timpressed. "Not much blood," she reported.BAD GUYSWhile we were on a month-long cross-country family trip, four-year-oldMadison prayed daily that, "No bad guys will break in our house and stealall my dollies."One day our neighbors came over to tell us some scary news: their house wasbroken into through their unlocked kitchen window while they slept throughit upstairs. They awoke to discover muddy footprints all over the kitchenand to find that things had been stolen. It shook our family up andsix-year-old Rachel was scared and worried all day. She said with so muchemotion, "I WISH robbers were only in FAIRY TALES."
Children & ReligionMy children attend church each Sunday and it's fun to see their knowledge ofGod developing. Seven-year-old Madison asked her Dad a challengingquestion: "Here's the hardest question in the whole world: who do you lovemore, Mommy or Jesus?"When our family was talking about how God knows everything and can doanything, four-year-old Rachel had a great idea: "He could make cars not goso fast so they WOULDN'T CRASH!" she exclaimed. After saying her prayers one night, Rachel began wondering about how shewas born with blonde hair, whereas her parents have brown hair. She asked,"Did Heavenly Father make me?.Your hair's root-beer flavored and my hair'speach-flavored cuz it's yellow." While looking at all the photos of herself in her scrapbook, Rachel had agreat idea. "You should take a picture of clouds, and put it in myscrapbook on the first page, because it would be me in Heaven," sheannounced.Two-year-old Joshy was very excited when he tried to say a prayer all byhimself. He even made up a new ending to replace the "Amen". "Pees bess mego to church. We not fight. We be nice.The end," he prayed so proudly!GRANDMOTHERSMy children's favorite times of the year are when grandparents come tovisit. Is it because the children love the fact that Mom is no longer theultimate authority? A few days before my parents came to visit,five-year-old Rachel told me: "Your mom is coming! She can tell you whatto do! Like, 'Make the dinner' and 'Go to your room.'"While playing at the beach with Grandma, Isaac and Grandma were careful notto go past the buoy lines that marked off the swimming areas. When GrandmaLinna asked why the rope at the beach was placed where it was, Isaac repliedthoughtfully, "I think this is the line where the last person died."While Isaac was playing checkers with Grandma Linna, and she had jumped mostof his pieces, he began losing hope. "It's really looking grim for thefuture," he announced sadly.And when eight-year-old Mary Elizabeth received warm fuzzy penguin jammiesfrom Grandma, she was ecstatic. As she danced around in her new p.j.'s, sheexclaimed, "I just LOVE Grandma Linna. I wish she was MY mom." Thenrealizing that I was listening and that I might have hurt feelings, sheturned to me and assured me, ".And YOU were my AUNT who lived with us."
Be it Ever So HUMBLING, There's No Place Like HomeIf I ever start to think I'm doing a good job as a mother, I can be surethat my children will say something to humble me. One day while playingwith five-year-old Isaac, I remarked happily, "It's fun to be a mommy!"Isaac quickly replied, "Because you get to yell a lot?"Another time when Isaac was displeased with me, he glared at me andannounced, "I WON'T keep you in my memory."While reading Hansel and Gretel to three-year-old Rachel, I commented onwhat a mean mother was in the story-- a mother who wanted to lose herchildren in the forest. To my surprise, Rachel seemed to feel that shecould relate to the poor children. "I wish I didn't have a mean mommy," shesaid sadly. "You are mean since you make me take a nap."Rachel thinks she has it tough. "When I grow up, I'm going to give mychildren candy a lot.I'm not going to let them like oatmeal. I'm going tobuy my children everything they want. I'll do all the work and let mychildren play. I wish YOU would be the kind of mother I will be..." she saidsadly, as she dreamed of the happy future HER children would have.A week before my birthday, six-year-old Rachel told me in great excitement:"You can scream and yell at us all you want on your birthday!" Does shethink I do that for FUN??When I jokingly said, "Mommies can do ANYTHING", five-year-old MaryElizabeth wasn't fooled for a minute. "Mommies can't balance on thehelicopter when it's driving as fast as it goes," she pointed outmatter-of-factly.One day while wearing my favorite old comfortable overalls, six-year-oldRachel asked me, "Did YOUR mom wear those overalls when YOU were a littlegirl?" (I guess they're looking TOO old.)Dads can also receive the same humbling treatment. When seven-year-oldIsaac was mad at Daddy, he told me through his tears, "I'd rather have aBURGLAR for a dad."When I said, "Daddy knows EVERYTHING!" Mary quickly corrected me: "Daddydoesn't know how to spell zucchini without your help.Isaac, Mary and Madi were discussing how much they love Mrs. Webb and howthey wish she was THEIR mother. I was enjoying listening to thisconversation from the next room but had to laugh when 11-year-old Isaacpointed out Mrs. Webb's best mothering quality. "She ONLY gets mad whenlives hang in the balance." Hmmm... isn't there more to motherhood than justkeeping your children alive?? Maybe someday they'll appreciate all thecharacter-building I inflict upon them. But until then, I guess they canhelp me stay humble.One day I was watching four-year-old Madi swinging so happily on our tireswing. When she saw me smiling at her, she called out, "Did you wish YOUwas a kid so you could do this?" It DID look a lot more fun than washingdishes...
FOOD, GLORIOUS FOODSeven-year-old Isaac had quite a sweet tooth and informed me, "I'm likeyeast. I only do well when I'm fed sugar." When two-year-old Joshua was caught trying to get into his big sister'scandy bag, he pretended that he was protecting the candy from others."Monsters can get candy," he explained (with a mouth full of chocolate).When Joshua couldn't open a plastic egg and he knew there was candy in it,he held it out to Rachel and called desperately for help, "HEP! HEP! Dachel,hep open!" as if it were a matter of life and death.When four-year-old Mary Elizabeth didn't finish her meal and as a resultdidn't get a cookie, she didn't take it too hard. (And she didn't want anysiblings gloating to her about their cookies!) "I'm kind-of tired ofcookies. I don't LIKE to get fat and eat too much junk food. I'm glad you're not forcing me to eat it," she announced as she watched everyone elseeating cookies.One night, four-year-old Madi helped me make dinner to take to awheelchair-bound woman who had multiple sclerosis. As we arrived at thewoman's home, Madi asked, "Is this the house of the lady in thewheelbarrow?"When I asked two-year-old Joshy if he was a little bit hungry, he replied ina deep voice, "I BIG hungry."One day Joshy was eating his noodles when suddenly his full bowl was lyingupside down on the floor. Joshy looked so surprised and tried to explainthe mystery tome. "I was eating it, then it FLEW off the table!" he sadly cried.Joshy LOVES "Land Before Time" movies, especially Chomper ("Chop-oh") thedinosaur. When we were getting ready to peel hard-boiled eggs, Joshy pulleda chair over to the counter to stand on and was so anxious to see what wasinside the eggs. "Chop-oh might hatch out of the egg!" he said anxiously.When we were eating broccoli with dinner one night before Daddy arrived homefrom work, four-year-old Madison told me not to save any for Daddy so thatthe children could be stronger and beat Daddy at wrestling. Then they atethe whole pot of it!One day four-year-old Madi was helping me in the kitchen and was excited tobreak eggs. As she slowly watched a cracked egg's contents fall into thebowl, Madi squealed, "I'm making a runny nose!"When four-year-old Mary was helping me make tacos, I sent her to the pantryto find the taco shells. She came out a few minutes later and happilyannounced, "Here are the taco buns!" (like hamburger buns, I guess!)One evening, four-year-old Rachel ate only bread and oranges for dinner.She ate so many oranges, I commented that she might turn INTO an orange.The next morning, as soon as Rachel woke up, I heard her happy (and veryrelieved) voice call out from her bed, "I DIDN'T turn into a orange!"When I told Mary Elizabeth that she was a good eater at lunchtime, shereplied sweetly, "I want to grow as big as the tree so I could pick a leaffor you."Eight-year-old Mary Elizabeth is a hearty eater and was excited to go to herBritish friend's house for "tea" (dinner). When her friend Amy's motherasked what she liked to eat for "tea", Mary Elizabeth promptly replied,"Anything. Except seaweed and fish eyeballs."
LOVEAny normal day with our five children consists of messes to be cleaned upand disagreements to be settled. But if I watch carefully, I can catch theheartwarming moments in which one child shows love to another family member.Those moments make all the hard work of raising children worth it. When I told three-year-old Mary that I loved her so much, she repliedemphatically, "I love you even HARDER." One day four-year-old Madison had one precious gumdrop. She wanted toshare her treasure, so she gave Daddy a nibble of her gumdrop. Then sheheld her gumdrop up to me, for me to take a nibble. When I hesitated, shelet me know that it was perfectly sanitary. "I licked Daddy's germs off,"she reassured me.Two-year-old Joshy loves it when his big sister holds him and "babies" him:"I sad. If you cuddle me, Madi, I be happy," he told her.When we lived in Guam (near the Philippines), Rachel showed me how much sheloved me. Holding two fingers close together, Rachel told me: "I love youthis much when you're mean, but I love you to the United States and backwhen you're nice."When we read about a couple falling in love, five-year-old Mary observed,"Daddy and you get grumpy at the same times. That's why YOU fell in love!"When 2-year-old Mary Elizabeth was stung by a bee, 3-year-old Isaac felt sobad for her that he cried even harder than she did while he told me with allthe feeling of his little heart that he wanted to poke that bee with a pin.One night I was tucking two-year-old Joshua into bed and was so anxious toget him to bed so I could go to bed and try to get rid of my bad headache.When Joshua asked for extra bedtime stories, I told him my head was hurtingtoo much and I was finished reading to him. He looked at me so sweetly andasked, "You need a band-aid?" I laughed and told him no, it wasn'tbleeding. "Poh (poor) Mommy. Poh Mommy," he said sadly. Then hebrightened and asked, "You need a HUG?" So I told him that was JUST what Ineeded. I live for moments like that.
TWINSTwins are truly double the fun. I was blessed with identical twin girls onChristmas Day, nine years ago. Their younger sister, six-year-old Rachel,often wishes she too could be a twin. One day while sitting in our parkedminivan, we saw cute twin toddlers walking along the sidewalk with a parent.I said, "Oh! How cute! Look at the twins!" Then I patted Madi (one of mytwins) and said, "I have a special place in my heart for TWINS!" From theback seat, I heard Rachel's worried voice calling out hopefully, "Do youhave a place for ONLY CHILDRENS??" I assured her I have a special place inmy heart for her too!My twins (Mary and Madi) are the best of friends but at times they can bethe best of enemies. While tucking four-year-old Mary into bed one night, Iasked what her happiest time of the day was. "Kicking Madison duringdinner," she quickly replied.When Madison was crying after being put to bed, Mary said heartlessly,"I don't like the noise. Lock her outside." If Mary wanted something Madi had, Mary insisted, "We're twins. We shareEVERYTHING!" But that was a double standard, because Mary didn't like toshare her own things. Once when Madison wanted to trade shoes, and MaryElizabeth didn't want to, Madison began to feel upset. Mary tried to calmher down by saying, "Remember, we never fight."While trying to fix Mary's hair one morning, I found sticky spots that werehard to brush. When I told her she must have honey in her hair, Maryexplained what REALLY happened. "I heared Madison tangle knots in my hairwhen I was sleeping," she said in disgust. And when Madi had messy tangledhair one morning, Mary couldn't handle Madi's appearance for long. "I feellike I'm in a witch's house when I see Madison's hair. Please fix it," shetold me desperately.One day Mary Elizabeth hit Madison, and Madison was on her way to tell onher. So Mary tried to reason with her. "What matters? Tattletaling orhitting?" Mary asked. "TATTLETALING. That's what matters," she answeredherself decidedly.
SIBLING RIVALRYSibling rivalry is a part of life in any family that has more than onechild. One day when four-year-old Rachel was mad at seven-year-old Mary,Rachel told us what was in store for Mary. "She's going to be a BAD GUYwhen she grows up. She's going to be a thief. I can tell it cuz she'sbeing MEAN." Another time, Rachel was caught whacking Mary on the back. Hoping to avoida consequence for her unkindness, Rachel explained to Mary: "If I hit youon the back, it's a PAT!" After Rachel hurt people with a sharp stick, the stick was taken away fromher. When she wanted her stick back, she tried to show how useful the stickcould be. "I will only kill BAD GUYS with it!" she promised. When I remarked in frustration to Isaac one day that there's too muchfighting in the house (his three sisters couldn't seem to agree onanything), he gave me a new insight. "There's a lot of fighting going intoorganizing anything. There was even a lot of fighting going into the makingof our nation." What a REVOLUTIONARY thought!When Isaac couldn't get a word in edgewise during dinner, he suggested infrustration, "My sisters need a doctor appointment to get their vocalchords smaller because they aren't giving me a chance to talk." When Isaac was six, he thought of a way to get back at his sister. "I knowwhat Mary deserves for Christmas-RATS," he decided. And when tired of beingteased, four-year-old Mary told Isaac passionately, "You hurt my feelings asHARD as you COULD!"FLIESWhile living on the tropical island of Guam, we couldn't keep the flies outof our house. Every time we opened the door, a few flies sneaked in. Oneday, four-year-old Rachel decided she'd take over the fly-control businessand sat on the back of the couch with a fly swatter, waiting for flies toland on the window sill so she could smash them. After catching severalflies this way, she spent a good part of the next few days sitting quietly,watching the window, and waiting for flies. While hiking through the jungleto the beach one day, Rachel couldn't wait to go home; I was very surprisedto hear WHY she wanted to go home: "Catching flies is SO FUN," she saidenthusiastically. "Why?" I squeamishly asked her. In an excited voice, sheanswered, "Cuz you get to, like, smash them dead!" Months later, Rachel decided she liked the flies. When I was trying to getrid of a fly in our house, Rachel stopped me. "That was my pet fly!" sheexclaimed. She began listing off the names of all her "pet flies", tellingme I was killing Louis. One day when my twin girls were four-years-old, they were eating lunch whentwo flies landed on Mary's sandwich. She was so excited. "I saw TWINFLIES!" she squealed. After hearing my rants and ravings about the annoying flies, eight-year-oldIsaac asked me a thought-provoking question: "If WE were flies, would wethink flies are bad?"On Thanksgiving Day, flies kept getting into the house and attacking thefood I was setting out for our feast. I put Isaac in charge of keeping theflies off of our food, but he seemed to feel sorry for the poor little guys(or was he just trying to get out of the job?). When I asked him to killthe flies that were attacking our Thanksgiving meal, he replied, "Oh,Thanksgiving is a time to be nice to EVERYONE, because pilgrims let theIndians come. Everyone knows the Indians have big appetites." What athoughtful guy!
CHRISTMASHaving children around brings so much joy to the Christmas season! After wesang "Grandma got run over by a reindeer" to our children, three-year-oldRachel thought about the song. "Reindeer did run over grandma," sherepeated. Then in a worried voice, she asked, "Was it OUR grandma?"Rachel loved to wrap Christmas gifts, but when she ran out of gifts to wrap,she began grabbing her siblings' toys from their rooms, wrapping it up, andputting it under the tree early in December. Her older sister Mary said infrustration, "Rachel keeps wrapping up my favorite stuff." I assured Maryshe'd get it all back on Christmas. Then Mary said in despair, "But I won'thave anything to play with while I WAIT for Christmas."When two-year-old Joshy opened his big dump truck on Christmas morning, helooked at it and announced, "I want MUD in here."When nine-year-old Madi (who loves to shop) opened some slippers onChristmas Day, she quickly ripped the tag off: "Now you can't take it back," she triumphantly told me.Children also contribute to the stress of the busy Christmas season. OneDecember evening I left our children with a teenage babysitter and returedhome to chaos. While climbing onto the couches and jumping onto the endtables, two-year-old Rachel had broken most of our glass nativity set. WhenRachel saw how disappointed I felt, she tried to cheer me up by pointingout, "But Baby Jesus isn't broken!" When four-year-old Mary was unhappy with her mother the week beforeChristmas,Mary added a new item to her wish list. "I want a NEW MOMMY from Christmas," she said with a scowl.Then after the long weeks of waiting and waiting for a Christmas that seemedlike it would NEVER come, Mary Elizabeth asked in a pouty voice on December26: "How come the Christmas was SO SHORT?"
CHORESWhen I hear my children groaning about their chores, I assure them that theywouldn't be normal children if they LIKED chores. If I didn't teach them tobe responsible, I wouldn't be doing my job properly. If I neglected toteach them well, I could be put in jail for being a bad mom, I explained.Later when nine-year-old Isaac couldn't handle the injustice of all hisresponsibilities, he told me sadly, "All life is, is working for you andmaking sure you aren't put in jail." And another time poor overworked Isaacmuttered, "Life is just a jumble to scramble for free time." Isaac has tried over the years to think of new alternatives to chores, suchas when he didn't like sweeping a few years ago he suggested, "We could letants come in our house and eat up all our little crumbs!" And when I triedto declutter his room of all its many treasures, he said with his 4-year-oldscowl, "I'll get a tow truck to tow you out of my room." He tries to pointout that whatever job he does involves killing something. He explained, "Ifyou vacuum, you kill dust mites. And if you clean the bathroom, you'rekilling germs."Five-year-old Rachel has a perennial unsolved mystery: "A few secondslater, my room gets TOTALLY messy, after I've cleaned it." She just can'tfigure out how that happens.Working with children can often be a fun experience to talk and sing withthe children. One evening, Lyrad reminded eight-year-old Madison (who wasstaring off into space while twisting her hair into a bun) to stay on taskand get busy wiping off the table. She came out of her daydream and quicklyresponded with shining eyes, "But first can I tell you how I want to have myhair on my wedding day?"When two-year-old Joshy was helping me fold laundry, I referred to hisshorts as "pants". He sweetly corrected me: "They're just SHORTS rightnow. When they grow bigger, they're PANTS."One morning I was doing a quick clean in our bathroom that has no windows.Joshy had the strongest desire to shut the door so I'd be in pitchblackness, but I kept my foot in front of the door so he couldn't close it.He wouldn't give up, but tried to talk me into it: "You might be safe inthere! The toilet will be your friend!" he said enthusiastically.
GROWING UPChildren love to daydream about growing up. The day after Rachel's fourthbirthday, we went on a scooter ride and she pointed out how her shadow is somuch bigger now that she's older. Rachel spends much of her free time lostin thought about what to be when she grows up. At first she wanted to be astorekeeper and sell lots of candy, but then one day she announced shewanted to "work in an x-ray" when she grew up. When I asked why, shereplied with a smile, "So I can see peoples' chewed-up food in their bodies". While touring an old castle in England, we climbed up dark staircases andexplored old rooms with vaulted ceilings and huge fireplaces. Becausethree-year-old Joshy thought he was one of the big kids, he started beingvery brave and acting like a monster, saying, "I'm a NIGHTMARE!" Then whenit was time to walk down the dark, very steep spiral staircase, his scaryvoice changed to a little boy voice and I heard him frantically say, "I'mnot a nightmare anymore. I'm a little boy who needs to hold his mommy'shand. Nightmares DON'T hold their mommy's hand." Being young can have its advantages. When I was impressed with all thatseven-year-old Isaac could remember, I told him he must have a better memorythan I have. "Maybe I'm more fresh from being born," he pointed out.SPORTSSeven-year-old Isaac was so excited to begin a boys' gymnastics classincluding plenty of stretching and tumbling. When we asked him what hisfavorite part of gymnastics was, he replied, "Becoming more like spaghetti".When Isaac began his first baseball season, he was ecstatic when all hispracticing paid off and he caught a pop fly. A few hours after the baseballgame was over, Isaac was still walking through our house carrying hisbaseball mitt. When I asked why he was still holding the mitt, he repliedalmost reverently, "This is the mitt that caught the pop fly that made thebatter heartbroken."
OUTDOORSNo matter the weather, Madison loves the great outdoors. When she was threeyears old, I told her about somebody who held a beautiful wedding ceremonyin a backyard. But Madison was not impressed. "That's SILLY. Cuz when youget married in your backyard you might get all dirty in the mud!"A few years later, I was bundled up and freezing cold while watching Madisonand her sisters play in short-sleeved shirts outside. When I commented onhow cold it was, Madison explained why she didn't feel cold. "You believein winter, we believe in spring. Whatever you BELIEVE is what it feels liketo you."HOMESCHOOLINGWhile home schooling five-year-old Rachel, I often tried to save time bypracticing math facts while driving along in the car or listening to herread aloud while I washed dishes. I soon noticed that the desire to take"shortcuts" had rubbed off onto Rachel. As we drove by the Air ForceBase, she enthusiastically told me that she saw a plane taking off ("FROMTHE GROUND", she kept pointing out). Then after a pause, she askedhopefully, "Does that count for my science today?"A few weeks later, we were studying the human body. While eating lunch oneday Rachel asked, "I'm thinking about how my food goes through my body.Does that count for my science today?"
HEALTH/SICKNESSThough children love putting band-aids all over their bodies, they don'talways know how to describe what's wrong when they're feeling poorly. Whenthree-year-old Madison had a headache, she said sadly, "My forehead iswiggling." When she had bug bites all over her body, she called out infrustration, "My tickles don`t stop tickling!" Madison doesn't like herheadaches and bug bites, but she doesn't feel too bad about OTHER people'sinjuries.such as when her daddy was returning from a long trip, she was soexcited and said, "I`m sorry that I will knock Daddy over when I hug him.Then I will crack his head open. I`m sorry that`s how I hug." Then shepointed out happily, "But then we can sew it back together!"When two-year-old Joshua fell asleep in his car seat, he sat on his feet andhis feet fell asleep. He woke up crying, "My feet are buzzing! The bees inmy feet keep buzzing!" Seven-year-old Isaac certainly reads his cereal boxes. One day his dadcame home from working at the hospital, and he told Isaac about a patientwho died of cancer. "Did he eat Cheerios?" Isaac asked suspiciously.
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