My oldest daughter couldn’t be more excited about tonight’s festivities.  It’s her first Halloween out from under Mom and Dad’s thumb (though she’ll still be with other parents).  Tonight she’s out with her friends, and I am truly happy for her.  Thank God I know she has good friends!

While she’ll be out, we’ll still have the younger three to take trick-or-treating.  Whether we go around the block or to visit the grandparents, we’re still not sure, but it will be low key for certain.  The less candy in the house, the better off we all are.

Truth be told, this weekend I have marked in my calendar as “GARAGE WEEKEND.”  We have to get a handle on things . . . or at least a path through it all.  With the holidays creeping ever closer and much pottery to be made, the garage needs to transform into a clay studio rather quickly.  And, we just need to organize, put things where they go, make work areas usable, create storage.  Simple stuff, really; it’s the time you have to take to do it.  It also isn’t a one woman job, but getting my husband and myself in the same place at the same time while we’re both awake is as tricky as ever.

When we’re supposed to be knee deep in the garage on Saturday, it turns out the kids have choir practice until eleven or so, a children’s author will be at the library at eleven, there’s a concert we want to support (and is free) at the botanical garden at two, and we have to eat sometime without ordering out (gotta tighten the budget belt).  Sunday is family birthday celebration all afternoon after church, after which we go back to church for the choir performance for which I’ve been shuttling kids to rehearsal these past couple of weeks on my precious weekends — as if my time is mine.

Therein lies a Truth in parenthood.  We make sacrifices every day.  We wade through the garage for years because it’s more important to have clean dishes and laundry than a proper place for the bikes . . . or is it?  We make choices on what we will sacrifice.  Some days we make good ones, but most days we just make choices, knowing we will live with the consequences. 

Perhaps that’s why we (okay, I) get so aggravated with the kids when they choose to do what they want to do even though I know the consequences won’t be good.  (i.e. any given child doesn’t want to clean his/her room and put away clothes today, and I know that in three days, it will be exponentially worse.)  We make our choices, pick our battles, and go through the motions of every day.  Hopefully it can be more of a dance, even if some days it feels more like a factory.

It would be nice if I felt more like a ballerina than a robot on Halloween.  Right now I feel like I could pass as a maid — and not the sexy sort!

Halloween ripens the imagination.  You can be whatever you want, and my boys in particular love being pirates.  An afternoon otherwise preoccupied presented a quick and easy transformation of a box and a mop so that I could actually work on other things while said pirate could search for treasure.

Surely you have a box or two you’ve been saving.  We get enough Amazon shipments around here!  This box isn’t even all that big.  Truth be told, it was the boy’s idea.  I just wielded the scissors and helped him put “canons” on his ship (halved toilet paper rolls, slits cut on one side so it can flare out to be glued to the box).

With the top and bottom opened on the box, the pirate can maneuver the ship easily.  A side of a paper bag makes for a nice textured map, painted with red directions, of course.  The colors were made from a scrap of black fabric, white acrylic paint and half of a Swiffer mop.  (The emptied Lego tub also makes a good ship, but it’s more difficult to maneuver without an older sibling and without getting in trouble for scratching the floor.

I’ve looked at a couple of hat patterns, and I already had some circular needles.  I just hadn’t used either!  I took the needles, some leftover and some new yarn and went to knittin’ while hubby drove to Austin for the Maker Faire.  (I will be oh-so-glad when I can knit without having to look at my hands!  Carsickness be damned!)  I just finished it recently, finally using an upholstery needle to tie off the top; my daughter’s plastic knitting/tapestry needle couldn’t be found.

I learned I still don’t really know what I’m doing when I’m knitting.  Some instruction and more reading would probably greatly increase my skill level.  For now, though, it’s a hat I would and do wear.

The benefit of making your own wares is that you can say, “I meant to do that.”   I don’t have to tell everyone where/how I “messed” up.  It’s a hat a mother can love.

(Pardon my blogging absence; I’ll play catch-up the next couple of days.)

The temperature dropped throughout the day, and the skies grayed more deeply until finally it rained, softly at first, now steadily.  Today is a day to wax poetic . . . to sip tea before a fire, completely engrossed in a fantasy novel, whatever your fantasy might be, or to sit and gaze out an open window, feeling the wind carrying your mind and soul above and beyond where you ever thought you could go.

Maybe the wind was blowing so hard today to wake me up, to clear my mind.  Stir my soul, o God, that I may be in perpetual motion and perfect ease within your Will, and thank you for this dreary day.
 

Since Tuesday I mentioned the Maker Faire, I thought I should also mention another fair that I’ve held dear to since I was old enough to play hooky with my mom’s consent and the two of us make the pilgrimage through the golden woods to War Eagle for some piping hot breakfast and cocoa before our craft fair extravaganza.

The Northwest Arkansas Arts and Crafts Fairs are an experience, to be sure.  There’s the traffic and the over-priced food.  Sometimes there are more crafts (and you can usually tell what’s the next popular thing) than art.  But mostly there are exhibitors hoping you will find their particular art or craft worth the price they’ve put on it.

I used to go looking for things to buy.  My mom would always say, “How hard could it be?” or “I could make that.”  I would agree with her then, but more recently when we’ve gone and when I’ve gone alone, I realize that, yes, I could make that, too.  Not all the time, of course, but often.  Often enough that I’ve considered having my own booth in the future.

But to put a price on your work.  To put a bit of your heart and soul on display for others to critique, to pass by, maybe even to overlook.  I have a newfound respect for the vendors.  I try to make eye contact with each of them.  If I really like the work, I’ll even tell them so, tell them what beautiful work they have.  I hope they know I mean it.  I hope that it makes all their effort worthwhile.  I wish I could support them monetarily, but for now, my admiration is all I can offer.

I may journey out to the mill today.  War Eagle is where many of the arts are in the craft fairs, and I’m always up for a good dose of inspiration.

(pumpkin photo above by southernpixel, from everystockphoto.com)

You’d be hard-pressed to find something more unique, creative and inspiring to take the family to.  It has engineering, robotics, sewing, silkscreen, ecology, electronics and everything else you never thought of rolled into one artsy-craftsy-geeky Maker Faire in Austin, Texas.

Last year was our first year to go, and one of the highlights was the life-size Mousetrap (pictured here) that we’re excited to see will be there this year, too.  But that’s just one thing.  The fairgrounds are covered with amazing feats of creativity.

If you want to know more about what’s going to be there, visit the site above or search around on the Make and Craft blogs.  If you can’t make it this year, put it on your calendar for ’09!

At the Servant Leadership class I attend, one of the things we focused on was centering prayer, particularly as described by Thomas Keating.  Considering the day that I had had and the night to come, I knew I needed this, and I was grateful.

First of all, it’s a Monday.  Second, it’s Columbus Day so the bank is closed, and I can’t take care of the ridiculous charges we have on our account that should be closed.  Third, I’ve been going full force all day, starting way earlier than I’m used to.  Fourth, I’m not sure how long the upcoming birth will be, and I may be up for days.

My saving grace:  a nap, the centering prayer, and knowing that a baby is soon to be born.

In our class, we wipe the slate clean in the beginning (which I missed by being a few minutes late).  In the centering prayer, you sit in silence, still, with one word that sums up your consent to the will and activity of God to move through you.  Twenty minutes.

Now, my background in meditation is Buddhist in nature.  I admit that when I first came to this church and heard talk of centering prayer, I thought, isn’t it really just meditation?  For some reason, I couldn’t understand.  Now, I realize that, yes, it’s just meditation.  No, it doesn’t matter whether it’s Buddhist or Christian or anything.  It is just being here and now.  This way of doing it has a word to bring you back when your drunken monkey brain steers you astray.  I could be counting my breaths.  I could be counting to ten over and over again.

But this time I had a word, and with that word I had an image of me doing something.  Over and over again I thought this word, this movement, gently, “as gently as placing a feather on a cotton ball,” as they said in class.  And we sat for twenty minutes that only felt like ten.  I wonder if I could have sat for an hour.

In this prayer I consented to God.  In this silence, I subconsciously challenged myself to let go of the day, of my will, worries, fears, and agenda.  Nothing happened.  I wasn’t going anywhere or becoming anything.  I just was.  I just showed up.  I just sat.  But I offered my bowl to God.  Whether it was empty or full, only God knows.  Whether I can make time to do this everyday, God and I both know I won’t.  But I hope God knows I’d love to.  I know I need to.

They told us in class that Mother Teresa spent four hours a day in prayer, which for her was in silence, listening for the will of God.  Asked why she spent four hours in prayer when there was so much to do, she said she spent four hours in prayer because there was so much to do.  Clearly she knew her work was greater than her.  She knew that she could only do with the help of God.

May we all be so willing.

Letting go of extravagant birthday parties takes effort, and I am blessed to say that after eight years, I feel I have arrived at something.

My eldest daughter had an extraordinary “Blue’s Clues” themed party for her second birthday.  Many adults, a few children and lots of chaos and expense.  She was exhausted at the end and didn’t really feel up to opening her gazillion presents.  It was fun, to be sure, and maybe I was doing it because the next month assured the loss of her place as an only child.  Yes, I was nearly nine months pregnant.  I, too, was exhausted at the end of the day.

Fast-forward to our fourth child.

She’s easy-going and doesn’t need a thing.  We have planned a family party, but I’m not planning a big to-do.  The opportunity arose to have a playdate at the park today– fun and very age appropriate.

Several moms and kids met us there.  I brought a cake I made.  We played and visited.  It’s a beautiful day.  I had requested no gifts, but one “re-gifted” present was brought, which was perfect.  We were back home for lunch and nap-time out of routine, not exhaustion.

There’s a time and place for the full-blown birthday parties, but I’m glad to know the difference and to appreciate the beauty of simplicity.

I like to sew and quilt.  I’m not obsessive about it — yet.  Seeing as how I’m riding the creativity flow these days, I decided to get a good dose of inspiration before setting a permanent course for this eclectic quilt I’ll be doing.  (The fabric was collected at my Blessingway, so I have a wide range of colors/patterns!)

I favor art quilts.  I love applique and embellishments.  I am truly amazed what some people can do with fabric as their art medium, and not all are women.  One book I love is called Within Sacred Circles:  Meditations and Mandala Quilts.  A woman at our church actually has a quilt featured in the book.  Along the print lines, there is also a magazine I’ve purchased before called Quilting Arts.

(and if you need some yummy munchies while you’re browsing, my hubby sent me links to justJenn recipes.  I can’t wait to try the “burger” cookies!)

Naturally when I am relieved to have the youngest weaned, said toddler is found with diarrhea in the diaper this morning and later puking in the hall . . . then the living room this afternoon . . . then in the van right before dinner.  Guess what the scent of the day is.  It’s been in my nose all day except when walking by the litter box that obviously needs to be cleaned by the eldest who promised to help when she had to have a new kitten.  That odor was even worse than the puke.  Yuck!  (I’ll spare you any photos today.)

So little miss is sick, and I hear that the stomach viruses going around are highly contagious.  Hubby says we need to sleep and eat well so as to boost our immunities.  My quiet time boosts mine, I hope, because I’m doing a lot of late night working here!  If five more people get the funk, though, posts might become scarce for a bit.  I’m doing what I can to keep up with the laundry as it is!

I miss the benefits of breastmilk already — even more now that I can’t just hold the little one and nurse her into wellness.  Enjoy it while it lasts, my lactating friends.  God comes quickly to remind us that we are, indeed, human.  Making milk is a superpower, right?

May everyone be well and well-hydrated.  Now I’ll have to hope that chicken noodle soup and the BRAT diet will suffice.  Of course, it’s nothing that time, love and patience can’t cure.