Today Aidan is 11

He's been talking about this day for months. After Ian's, Dave's, Emma's and the Liam's birthdays Aidan would subtract how many days were left until his. He loves to celebrate - especially when it involves himself.

Vain, no! Aidan is anything but vain. He simply loves to celebrate. From an early age he would come up with any reason to light candles, set flowers, arrange the table just so - to make the meal that much more special.

Aidan is my adventurer. This summer typifies Aidan and his free spirit. This is his third year on the swim team. He joined it during Emma's second year. Last year Emma didn't swim because she was in Cyprus with her grandparents. I thought Aidan would hang back, but no, he committed to the team. This year he was the only boy swimming his level during practice. Yep, Aidan and 10 other girls. He loved it. He would jump into their conversations, practice his magic tricks to razzle-dazzle them and buy extra large pretzels during meets just to share with them. He's not a flirt. He's a socializer. Never at a loss for words, Aidan will eagerly enter into conversation with anyone, regardless of age or sex.

I remember 3 years ago we had a couple over from church for Easter lunch. Now Bob and Ruthie are rather eccentric. Ruthie was blind and Alzheimers was doing its work on her. Conversations with her were sometimes hard to follow. That Sunday Aidan helped Ruthie to her seat, asked her if she wanted something to drink, served her and began asking her questions without any prompting from the significant adults in his life.

Aidan also has an addictive personality (like his mother). He gets lost in his xbox, computer games, and (I don't mind this one) books. He loves legos, star wars, and cheese pizza. He is winsome, loving, sentimental and sees beauty where others don't. I can't count how many times we'd be in the car during sunset and he'd look out the window and say, "Mom, look at the sky. It's just beautiful." (And he started noticing things like that when he was a preschooler.) While we were driving out to California he commented on the landscape of Oklahoma. "It is really beautiful out here. I can see for miles."

Aidan was my easiest pregnany and delivery. He loves hearing that. I was biking 7 miles a day when I was pregnant with him. I was in labor for 2 hours and pushed for 5 minutes.

He's a character and just like Dumbledore said to Harry Potter, I expect great things from him!

The Mundane of Daily Necessities

I've changed my "About Me" section a bit because I woke up this morning and realized I neglected my nightly routine of "picking up." As I was bending and stretching and bending and stretching and breathing and (feel the burn) I grew more and more frustrated. I let out a cry, "I am so tired of picking things up only to turn around and pick them up again!" Dave, in his merciful wisdom said, "Okay, stop sounding like a mom cliche'."

Seriously though, I get so frustrated with the never-ending duties (or are they privileges) of housekeeping. In order to stay ahead of the clutter I must perform my household aerobics daily. This has not sunk into my psyche - ya'd think after 16 years of picking up after kids (okay 18 years picking up after my husband, dear husband) I'd get over it.

I've read countless articles from Women's Day, Family Circle, Better Homes and Gardens, Real Simple (in the time when I subscribed to those mags) about how to declutter, best ways to organize your kid's toys, quickest cleaning tips, etc. It all comes down to laziness and doing what you have to do...plain and simple.

One aspect of the daily chore that I've come to appreciate is the exercise involved. Our dishwasher broke down months ago and I don't want it repaired. Why? More calories are spent washing dishes by hand then placing them in the dishwasher (My sister prefers washing by hand because it's her only quiet time, no one comes in the kitchen to bother her in fear they will be asked to help!).

My mother had a routine at night. She would (after we brushed our teeth) clean the bathroom sink. No one was allowed to use it after her nightly ritual. She abhored water spots. In this realm, I am not my mother's daughter, almost. I have come to find that nightly cleaning is the most satisfying. I know, for those brief hours in my sleep, that my house is organized and spotless.

Well, the dogs have tromped mud through the kitchen, again. Time to pull out my least favorite mop (which I'm beginning to appreciate more since I found I can refill the cleanser with my own mixture of water and vinegar - cant do that with the Swiffer!) and, once again, mop the floor. But hey, it's exercise!

Enjoying What We Don't Have in Southern Illinois

Why Do Truckers Like to Tailgate?

We've made it. Two weeks and some 4000 miles later we are resting comfortably in back in Sparta, IL. Some observations from the road:
1) Eastern Oklahoma is very lush and surprisingly pretty
2) Oklahoma's rest stop toilets are WRETCHED! Do not even need to go when you are in Oklahoma. Avoid it at all costs!
3) There are ALOT of dead opossums, armadillos, cats, dogs, deer, squirrels on the road
4) Emma doesn't like it when Aidan and I sing Elevation with U2
5) Dave Matthews Band is mighty fine music to play on a road trip
6) The Best Western in Weatherford in OK is very nice and serves a filling breakfast
7) Not so much for the Super 8 in Holbrook AZ or the Best Western in Santa Rosa, NM
8) I know there is a beauty to the desert but it surpasses me, kind of like abstract art
9) Gas is to darn expensive right now and come the judgement day someone should be held accountable!
10) I need to call home more often when I take a road trip (I was severely reprimanded for waited until my cell phone had service - a day and a half. Yes I know, my bad. I've already had my hand slapped.)
11) Liam does not nap in the car and
12) Compact Disc holders make great entertainment for a toddler (reflect the sun and make sun spots for him to catch - much like a cat
13) I'll end with what I titled this blog: Why do truckers like to tailgate? Is it to intimidate (ala Duel)? Do they feel perfectly safe hanging one car length behind my itsy-bitsy Dodge Stratus and trust their brakes and their reaction time is quick enough? Any ideas?
I'll write more about the trip later. Right now I'm doing laundry, trying to revive a neglected plant, brushing molting dogs and then scrubbing my kitchen floor. A woman's work...

Emma is 13

For some odd reason Emma likes me to tell the story of her difficult birth. May 17, 1994. I couldn't sleep. Contractions were regular but far apart, yet strong enough to keep me awake most of the night, half-sleeping on the couch. In the morning Dave was convinced we had to get to the hospital, even though my water hadn't broken and the contractions were still 7-10 minutes apart. My first birth - Ian - was only a four-hour labor. We were warned that the second birth is usually quicker. So we headed to St. Joseph's in Denver.
I'm laying in the pre-labor room and guess what - contractions sloooow down. Nothing happening. But the doctors want me to stay since my due date has just past by a couple days.
I get checked into a room and our best family-friend, Julie, comes in for support and coaching. She just had her second girl 6 weeks earlier. I was determined to give birth that day because Julie was leaving for Texas that night and I really wanted her to help with the delivery.

Labor starts up-pretty regular, pretty hard. Julie reminds me to moan low, relax my face, and breathe! The doctor comes in after a few hours, four I think. He checks me. There is a very concerned look on his face. Apparently the baby's face was facing directly out, not down (like a normal delivery). Baby's (have you ever noticed how obstectric nurses/doctors always say Baby and not "the" baby?) head is positioned to take up too much room in the cervix. Baby's head keeps pushing into the cervix with no room to push through. If baby doesn't pull out and re-position itself the doctor will have to perform a c-section. Uhh, I don't think so. We don't want that.

Julie and Dave immediately pray. About 5 minutes later I had an intense contraction. Ohhh, I will never forget that contraction. It was big, it was huge, I felt something move. The doctor came in for one last check and..."It seems baby has moved out of the cervix, put it's head down and moved back in, in the right position." Hmmmm! how did that happen.

Now labor proceeds as normal but Julie has to leave to catch her flight so she could eat a sumptuous meal at Threadgills. In pops Becky to take over. After 45 minutes of pushing, out pops a harry, elvis-looking creature. Is it a boy, is it a girl. (We found out with Ian but we didn't want to know with the second). Well, of course you know - but when they said it's a girl, I will never forget the feeling, the rush of --- YES! I felt such peace, pleasure, contentment. My little girl had come into the world.

My little girl is 13 today. She's taller than me, sometimes more mature than me (especially when my one goal in life is to royally embarrass my kids by doing the "mom dance") but she is still, and always will be my little girl.

Obligations

obligate-v. (obligates, obligating, obligated) (be obligating) be obliged to do something
obligation-n. 1 something one must do because of a law, agreement, promise, etc. 2 the state of being obliged to do something.
obliging adj. helpful

Today is Mother's Day and if you are like me you feel obliged to send a card, buy flowers or perform some other "obligatory" act to show your love and appreciation for your mother. Boy, does that sound sarcastic but in a way I am wary of "holidays" that Hallmark has invented for the purpose of lining their pockets and emptying mine. Yeah, I'm a cynic. But that doesn't mean I don't expect a card from my doting husband and adoring children. Of course I do. And there'll be he!! to pay if there isn't a vase of flora on my dining room table by 3:00pm Sunday afternoon!

And yet...mothers are a unique lot-the crap they have to put up with! Whew! You know what I'm talking about! Whining, vomit, labor pains, snotty noses, excuses, lies, discipline (we do use the rod!), puberty, driving lessons, temper tantrums, excuses (I get a lot of those), fear, endless prayers, tears, knee pains, AND prayers before bed, hugs, I love yous, confidence gained, lessons learned, maturity gained. There's a lot of crap but it's worth the pain.

Mothers are said to be the caretakers of the culture. We pass on what was passed on to us - traditions. What we were shown, taught, we show and teach.

My mother taught me endurance. Her childhood was wrought with war, poverty, alcoholism, too-early independence and responsibility, and loneliness. She's a survivor. And always has a comforting word to say, always beginning with, "It's like I always say...." (if you have your health you have everything is her favorite). She's generous and never without a word of encouragement to get you going in the right direction.



My mother-in-law is a gem. Caring, compassionate, generous. The stereotypical mother-in-law jokes DO NOT APPLY! I am blessed.

So despite the pressure from Hallmark I will celebrate Mother's Day - giving thanks for the mothers I have and, of course, receiving hugs for being one.

Happy Birthday Valerie!

Reviews just in....

...repeating her breakout performance from Teacher of the Year, Ms. Winters shines like the stars in the sky. A role model for all who touch her genius!
B.K. Moodasz, Spartan Plain-dealer

I am fortunate to not only have viewed all of Valerie's works, but been in her car, her home and her pool. Valerie inspires others to pursue their dreams. She rocks!
Aidan Moodman, St. Louis Dispatch

She's cool.
Ian Proudman, Rolling Rocks

I hope my life reflects her generosity and over-all fun-ness.
Emma Laughter, Disney Channel Freak

The scope of her talent is limitless, spanning cultures and time, only limited by her misunderstanding of obscure theologians.
St. David's Journal of Everyday Faith

vrmmm, ball, dog, moon, mom, EEEEE
Liam Loudandclear

Today is Dave's birthday

42
I wonder why God gave Dave to me. And yet I see more and more, the older I get, the longer we're married, the more I let down my armor, why.
I have a lot of armor (Dave's nodding his head right now), but this blog isn't supposed to be about me...it's his birthday.
Anyway, I wonder and I see because Dave loves me sooo much. He honors me and respects me. I know this. I see this. I live this. Dave is the best husband I could ever wish for - even more than wish for (you know I would wish for someone who wouldn't be the best and God has given me the best).
Dave is kind. He is a diplomat and thinks through his words before sputtering them out of his mouth. He retains information like no body else I know (except maybe our son Ian, see yesterday's blog). He is a man of integrity. He stays true to his word. I know in my heart that he will always be true to me and any of his friends. He will/would never betray.
Dave seeks the truth and he will study hard for it. He teaches with a love and passion. he loves to teach.
Now I've got to go and make his favorite chocolate layer cake. All you who know Dave know what he would have you do this day, raise a pint in his honor!

Ian is 16

Tomorrow Ian turns 16! I have a 16 year old! 16 years ago I gave birth to my first son. Unbelievable!
So indulge me, a proud mother, while I extol the wonders of my boy.
He is smart. It baffles me how intelligent he is - it must have skipped a generation (and Dave agrees with me so I'm not dissing him). He's on the Math team (big brag moment coming up) and placed 1st in the southern Illinois competition a few weeks ago. Next month his team goes to state. He catches on the concepts quickly, almost intuitively.
He is creative. He picked up the guitar a couple of years ago. He's composed a few tunes. He plays during our contemporary worship, and another church's too. He plucks at the piano and can play a tune, even though he's never taken a lesson. And the same with the drums.
He is kind. (Okay, his brother and sister won't agree on this one). Sometimes I have to prod him into helping but he's always there to take our 2 yo off my hands and play with him. And they play well together. It's almost comical to see this almost 6 footer wrestle a barely 3 footer. Liam adores him
He is a freak. Ian can do these BIZARRE things with his toes and fingers. He's constantly cracking (mostly for the effect he gets from his mother) his knuckles. He curls his toes in, complete under his foot. Weird!
Above all, Ian is unique. After 16 years I still don't know who he is or who he will become. He makes me laugh, he makes me cry, he makes me happy and, of course, he makes me angry. He's my son. I love him. Happy Birthday Ian.

Continuing with Lent

We're in week three of Lent. How are you doing? What are you doing?
Our family is still using Hillbilly Housewife (www.hillbillyhousewife.com) $45/week menu. Lots of beans and some in the family are tired of it -- IAN! Last night was tuna-noodle casserole. He said it looks disgusting. You'd think I'd spoiled him with rib-eye steaks, roasted vegetables and tart tatins every night.

I do love commemorating these days, like Lent and Advent. But it seems there is a plethora of resources for celebrating Advent but very few for Lent. Lent can be an austere time, and hence the lack of "celebrating" it. We are preparing first to remember the sacrifice that Jesus made, and then the resurrection.

The kids and I are reading the lectionary and praying through the Divine Hours. Reminds me of our days at St. John's in Vancouver.

But there are no Lent calendars, wreaths, visual count-downs for the season. Or are there? Do you know of any family-friendly ways to remember Lent? Or is Lent even a significant season for you?

Traditions

Christmas is such a time for remembering and practicing traditions. Families merge and begin new traditions, attempt to sustain old traditions, blend some, discard others. When the Kaidasz and Moody clans blended 17 years ago little did we know what our traditions would look like. I still don't know what they look like, they are a work in progress. But today, as I was looking at our Advent calendar waiting for days 16,17, and 18 to be opened, I pondered "What traditions are we currently practicing that will be passed on to Emma's, Ian's, Aidan's and Liam's merged families?"
While we were in Canada we attended an Anglican church. They, along with the graduate school Dave was attending, had a rich practice of remembering Advent. We embraced the practice and were determine to marry it into our lives in the U.S. It's been 7 years since we left Canada and we are struggling to light the candles every week. It's so hard to maintain a tradition you cherish when the community and culture around you does not practice the same.
My desire is/was to make Advent a preparation for the feast of Christmas. Our family decided to give small presents on St. Nicholas day (Dec 6) and Epiphany (Jan 6). We said, "NO PRESENTS ON CHRISTMAS!" We want that day to be the feast day remembering Emmanuel, God coming as a babe to be one of us. But, our families, the Moodys and Kaidaszs don't celebrate that way. So we have grandparents and aunts and uncles and cousins expecting presents on Dec 25th and expecting us to open them. So we compromise. We open presents from other family members on Dec 25th (for the Kaidaszs) and on Dec 24th (for the Moodys). [Our kids get a lot of presents: Dec 6, Dec 24, Dec 25, and Jan 6.]
Now I wonder...will Emma's family celebrate St. Nicholas day as she did when she was 12 or will she compromise to her husband's family and celebrate it their way. When did traditions become so temporal, transforming with each generation and merging of new families? Have they ever been long-lasting, longer then a generation?
And Christmas is almost over, less than a week. The traditions I've desired to practice (so that the deeper, spiritual meaning of Christmas is in the forefront) have gotten lost in compromising with my culture and my laziness.
Perhaps thats the nature of being on this side of glory and recognizing that in Advent, preparing for the coming of the King, I am feeling more earnestly the desire for the King to return in full splendor and to rid myself of the worldly entrapments that weigh down the celebration of Emmanuel. So in my struggle to fully celebrate perhap sI am fully celebrating.

Nothing to say, only to show

I was thinking I should add something new and interesting to my blog...it's been a while. Well, I can't think of anything new, exciting or significant to add to any ongoing conversation so I thought I'd add updated pictures of the fam. Uncle Paul came through St. Louis on a business trip so we met him at the arch for dinner. Great time. Liam continues to delight and remind of us the blessing he is. Do you see a pastorate in his future? The pix of Ian were taken the night of the Homecoming Dance. No date, just went with a bunch of friends and had a great time. Thanks for taking a look!