A Thanksgiving Hymn…sort of

I’ve always liked this hymn a lot and for some reason I associate it with Thanksgiving. I realize on typing it out that it really doesn’t have much to do with the holiday, but it still seems to fit. Maybe because Thanksgiving is often when I think about the family and friends we are blessed with  and am thankful for “the tie that binds”.

Blest Be The Tie That Binds by John Fawcett

Blest be the tie that binds our hearts in Christian love:
the fellowship of kindred minds is like to that above

Before the Father’s throne we pour our ardent prayers;
our fears, our hopes, our aims are one, our comforts and our cares.

We share our mutual woes, our mutual burdens bear,
and often for each other flows the sympathizing tear.

When we asunder part, it gives us inward pain;
but we shall still be joined in heart, and hope to meet again.

The glorious hope revives our courage by the way,
while each in expectation lives, and longs to see the day.

From sorrow, toil and pain, and sin, we shall be free;
and perfect love and friendship reign through all eternity.

If you’d like, listen at Cyberhymnal. They also had the story of how it was written, which I thought was very neat.

Dr. John Faw­cett was the pas­tor of a small church at Wains­gate, and was called from there to a larg­er church in Lon­don in 1772. He ac­cept­ed the call and preached his fare­well ser­mon. The wa­gons were load­ed with his books and fur­ni­ture, and all was rea­dy for the de­part­ure, when his pa­rish­ion­ers gath­ered around him, and with tears in their eyes begged of him to stay. His wife said, “Oh John, John, I can­not bear this.” “Neither can I,” ex­claimed the good pas­tor, “and we will not go. Un­load the wa­gons and put ev­ery­thing as it was be­fore.” His de­ci­sion was hailed with great joy by his peo­ple, and he wrote the words of this hymn in com­mem­o­ra­tion of the event. This song, and “God be with you un­til we meet again,” are the most use­ful fare­well hymns in the world. (from Cyberhymnal)

Have a great Thanksgiving and enjoy your time with those for whom you are thankful!

A Date with a Monkey

David and I went on a date yesterday. I could tell he needed a little special time. He loves his little sister but it hasn’t been easy becoming the middle child. And three is a tough age anyway, in my experience.

I asked him what he wanted to do. He asked to go to the pet store to look at the animals. So that’s what we did. We saw fish and kittens and lizards and birds. One of the staff took out a gerbil for him to pet which was fun. Then we went next door to Target and had Icees. He also picked out a bag of Cheetos for a snack. He told me that tigers could eat Cheetos (there is a tiger on the bag) but it’s also ok for monkeys to eat them and since we were monkeys we could have them.

He was happy and we had a fun time. As a mentioned earlier, I’ve found three to be tougher than two for both my kids. I found with John that occasional special “dates” really helped when we were going through a tough phase.

Sometime it’s tempting to think that parenting will get easier as the kids get older. But I have enough friends with older kids and teens to know that there will be a day when I look back with longing for the time that a trip to the pet store, an Icee and a bag of Cheetos could satisfy all his desires.

A thousand words

As a doctor I’m aware that I often see kids when they aren’t at their best. Even if they aren’t sick and are in my office for a well-check they often are scared or shy or just not all that excited to be there. It’s my world, not theirs.

This week I was taking care of a patient in the hospital who I’ve known for many years. He is now 17 years old and has serious chronic medical issues. When I write my initial note about him in his chart instead of summing up all his medical history (which is lengthy) I just write “patient well-known to me”. This shows that I know him and didn’t really need to do a full history since I know it already.

Typically when I see him he is very sick as his Mom is used to caring for him at home until he absolutely has to be in the hospital. In addition I usually make my rounds early in the morning so when I see him he is in bed,  wearing a hospital gown, and sleepy.

This week his Mom brought in a poster she had made and put it up in his room. It was covered in photos of him over the past year. Playing basketball. Dressed up for Halloween. With friends at school. And in each and every one of the photos he has a huge toothy grin on his face and eyes full of joy.

I realized that I’d never pictured him doing any of those things. And I realized that in fact he wasn’t so “well-known to me” after all. I know his medical history but I don’t really know him. I told his Mom how glad I was she brought the photos in because now I feel like I do know him a little bit better.

And now when I think of him it’s not lying in a bed hooked up to an IV but with a basketball in his hand and a smile on his face.

Check this out.

Want to win a really cool computer? Scribbit is having a giveaway.

The rainforest is yummy.

I am in no way an unschooler.  Despite the fact that it’s not really the educational philosophy I agree with, it just would not work with my personality. I like plans and lists and schedules. I like curriculum. When I was in school myself I liked worksheets and tests (I was a good test taker so I liked them). I was kind of a teacher’s dream.

However, one of the advantages of homeschooling is the ability to throw all those plans and lists and schedules out the window sometimes. To ignore all the curriculum on the shelf and follow the rabbit trails where they lead. Today was one of those days.

We’ve been working our way through the One Small Square series of books for science the past month or so. I cannot recommend these books highly enough. They are little gems. John loves reading them and we both learn a lot. They have fun activities you can do throughout but even without doing the activities they are well worth the purchase price.

Today at lunch we read the one on the Tropical Rain Forest.

Afterwards, I asked John to tell me five things he had learned about the rainforest as a narration. His first thing was that chocolate comes from the rainforest. This wasn’t actually in the book, but he remembered it from some other time. The chocolate comment reminded me of this.

I had bought this little kit quite a long time ago to go with something we were doing last year but then didn’t get around to using it. I got it out and asked John if he wanted to do it. Not a big surprise, but the answer was YES!

So we got out the kit and made chocolate. I took some pictures but no matter how many times H. teaches me to use the camera for close-up photos all my food pictures come out looking awful. So basically I have a lot of photos of us with a bowl of brown gloppy stuff and then the brown gloppy stuff in the little paper candy liners. Somehow I don’t think they would add a lot to this post.

I will say it was surprisingly easy and made some quite tasty chocolate. We made some with peanut butter (John’s idea) and some with mini marshmallows (David’s idea). I thought the peanut butter ones were the best.  Almost good enough to make me into an unschooling convert.

Baby Love

When I was in medical school I spent a month in the pediatric intensive care unit. While I was there I cared for a little baby boy with Tetrology of Fallot ( serious congenital heart disease). He actually wasn’t that sick compared to most of the kids in the ICU but he essentially lived there. I never knew why his family wasn’t around but they weren’t ever there.

I fell in love with him. Any time I didn’t have something else to do I’d go in his room and play with him. At night I’d sit in the rocking chair and rock him. I can still remember how soft his dark smooth skin was and the feel of his soft curly head. I remember how he would nuzzle his face into my neck and fall deeply asleep in my arms. The nurses would all scold me and tell me that I was “spoiling him”. They would tell me that when I left when my rotation was done someone else was going to have to rock him since I’d gotten him so used to sleeping that way.

They didn’t fool me though. Like most kids who end up living in the hospital due to serious chronic medical conditions or poor social situations or a combination of both, the nurses were just as in love with him as I was. He may not have had a mother who chose to be there caring for him but he had charmed the unit and had a whole bunch of foster mamas who wanted to love on him.

Looking back I realize that I wasn’t anywhere near purely selfless in the time I spent with him. Holding a sweet chunky drowsy baby was an oasis in the middle of a lot of sadness and heartache. Maybe I was a bit of normal for him that month of his life. He was certainly that for me.

I wish I could tell you what happened to him. But the truth is the rotation ended and I moved on. I hope his heart was fixed and the harder things to fix in his life also were repaired. But I don’t know.

What made me think of him today was reading this post by 6 Year Med. It made me cry this morning when I read it. Go check it out. You won’t be sorry.

Now He is Six

When I was one,
I had just begun.

When I was two,
I was nearly new.

When I was three,
I was hardly me.

When I was four,
I was not much more.

When I was five,
I was just alive.

But now I am six,
I’m as clever as clever.
So I think I’ll be six
now for ever and ever.

by A. A. Milne

If only he could.

Bibliomania

This book made me realize I don’t really love books. I love reading and that is not the same thing, although I’d never really thought about it much before reading this book.

This is the true story of John Gilkey, a book thief. Gilkey steals rare or valuable books. The thing that sets him apart from other book thieves is that the primary driving force behind his crimes is that he loves books. He doesn’t love reading them as much as he sees them as a status symbol. He believes that if he amasses a collection of valuable books people will see him as someone who is intelligent, educated and worldly.

The other characters in the book are the rare book dealers and collectors from whom Gilkey steals. They are similar to Gilkey in that many of them love books for themselves, not necessarily to read. They love the thrill of the hunt for a very rare book and they appreciate the physical beauty of certain books. They may also love to read, but that’s not necessarily why they collect books.

The author, Allison Hoover Bartlett, does a very nice job of revealing Gilkey’s character. He’s an interesting person because he is pathologically self-absorbed. He sees the world as fundamentally unfair because he wants valuable books, yet cannot afford them. He blames his crimes on the dealers who have the books he wants but somehow thwart him by pricing them out of his reach. Even after multiple convictions and jail sentences he appears to be unrepentant. In one amazing scene, he revisits one of the dealers he stole from to demonstrate to Bartlett his technique (he doesn’t steal but is showing her how he would look for a book he was interested in). He is amazed to find that the dealer is somewhat less than happy to have him in his store again.

Bartlett also does a good job of examining what drives not only Gilkey but others to collect. This was almost as hard for me to understand as Gilkey’s view about crime. I am just not a collector and never have really understood the passion some people have for it. I have particularly never really understood people who look at books as objects rather than as something to be read.

I love reading. I am one of those people who take books with me anytime I leave the house, just in case. I read when I’m brushing my teeth, when I’m stopped at a stoplight, when ever I have a free minute. If I’m stuck in a bathroom without reading material, I’ll read the shampoo bottles. So I understand the drive to read.

I often think the idea of a bookcase full of leather-bound books used for decor is just wrong. Books are meant to be read, not looked at. I imagine the books in the library that don’t get checked out as being sad. I’m not particularly nice to my books. I read them in the bathtub and dog-ear the corners. Many of them will have stains on them from being read during a meal.

Once when I was in England, I saw  A. A. Milne’s original manuscripts for The House at Pooh Corner. I remember being thrilled to see those beloved words in Milne’s actual handwriting. The Dark is Rising is my favorite series from childhood. I have the same set that I read for the first time in fourth grade. I have read it countless times. I love to re-read it because it’s a great story but also because it is comforting to me. The words themselves take me back to moments in the past when I read them before. Holding the same physical book that I’ve held so many times before is part of that feeling. So I do understand love of books as well as love of reading. But for me if there wasn’t the personal or sentimental connection to the physical book, then I don’t have that same feeling.

Bottomline is this is a fascinating book on many levels. It’s an interesting study of a criminal mind. It’s a peek into the world of rare book collectors. And for someone who loves books or reading, it’s thought-provoking as to what exactly it is you love and why.

Monkeying around

David loves monkeys. LOVES them. Much of the day he pretends to be a monkey. If he’s grumpy and doesn’t want to do something often just rephrasing it as a request to a monkey will convince him to do it. (“Hey, little monkey come here and let me change your diaper.” Although writing that out sounds weird and makes me realize how glad I am not to be changing real monkey diapers, it works.)

So this week I knew he’d have fun in “school”. Our Before Five in A Row book is Caps for Sale, a classic children’s story by Esphyr Slobodkina about a peddler who has his caps stolen by a bunch of pesky monkeys. To go along with the story we’ve been reading lots of books about monkeys. Here are a few of our favorites.

We’ve enjoyed several of the Five Little Monkey books by Eileen Christelow. John and David both like these and what’s not to like? Five cute monkey siblings getting into trouble, but not too much trouble. Loads of fun.

Another book about naughty monkeys. The illustrations are by Lynn Munsinger (of the If you Give a Mouse a Cookie series) and add to the fun. David and John had a good time finding the “extra” monkey on each page. This is also one of those preschool books that helps work on counting but in a natural way that doesn’t make the child feel like it’s a sneaky attempt to teach them something.

Monkey Do by Allan Ahlberg was absolutely the favorite of both boys. We’ve read it at least once a day since Monday, and usually more.  It’s got a great rhythm to it and illustrations full of detail.

In addition to the books we did some simple activities. David liked playing a  game of  “Monkey See, Monkey Do” (Simon Says but you always do what the leader does. He liked being the leader a lot. Possibly because he enjoyed seeing me do really silly things.) Today we used his blanket as a parachute and had all his stuffed monkeys “jump” on it while we sang the 10 Little Monkeys Jumping on the Bed song.  He liked this a lot, especially making them fall off and bump their head.

We also made frozen banana treats. I  got the recipe off of Homeschool Share but called them Monkey Popsicles which David found hilarious.

4 ripe bananas
1/2 cup heavy cream
1 TBSP sugar
12 ounce package semi-sweet chocolate chips

Peel bananas and take off strings. Cut in half horizontally and stick a popsicle stick into each half. (We didn’t have popsicle sticks so I used wooden kabob skewers. This worked pretty well.) Freeze on wax paper for at least 2 hours. (You can freeze longer, I ended up waiting two days before doing the next step.)

Heat heavy cream and sugar in a saucepan over low heat, just until sugar is dissolved.

Melt chocolate chips (The recipe said to use a double boiler. I used the microwave which worked fine, you just have to do it slowly and stir frequently. It took about a minute and a half  and I  stopped several times to stir it.) Mix the cream into the melted chocolate.

Dip (or drizzle or spread) the bananas into the chocolate. This was the fun part. Ours didn’t turn out very pretty but the boys had fun doing it. The recipe called for rolling them in walnuts after the chocolate but none of us are that fond of walnuts (plus, I didn’t have any) so we left that out. Freeze again on waxed paper until chocolate is firm.

Eat.

I didn’t take a picture of the finished product as I’m not very good at food photography and these in particular just look like big brown lumps. They don’t look particularly appetizing but they taste delicious. Both boys liked them a lot.

Next week we’ll continue with Caps for Sale. We’ll do some stuff with hats as well as having more monkey fun.

Oui. Si. Ja. Da. Etc.

As part of the women’s Sunday School at my church each of us is supposed to share a “life principle”.  I thought I’d share mine here as well. It’s simple: say yes.

I’m not talking about over-committing yourself or becoming a pushover or saying yes to things that are wrong. Just when possible, say yes.

The first time I intentionally made a point of saying yes was to H. before we were dating. We were good friends. I knew I was interested in something more than friendship but wasn’t really sure what his feelings were. So I figured, if this was someone I wanted to get to know better I should made every effort to do just that. So whenever he asked me to do something I said yes. Years later, when we were married, H. commented that one thing he’d noticed early on was that I was often available and willing to try new things or go places.

I’m not always good at saying yes as a parent but I find this is where it makes the most impact. About a year ago, I had taken the boys to a local park for an appointment to see a beekeeper for a demonstration. The beekeeper didn’t show (she had a good reason). As we were on our way out we passed a small pond. John asked if we could stop. I already had thought of all the other things I wanted to do since the beekeeping demo didn’t happen and playing in the pond was not one of them. Something though made me say yes.

We stopped and walked around the pond. They played in the mud, everyone was having a good time. Then as we circled back around to the car we passed a small field with a path going through it. “Can we see where that goes?” I sighed, but said yes.

The path led down to a creek with rocks going across it.

“Can we play?!”  Boy, oh, boy did I want to say NO. I envisioned boys in the water and whining about wet clothes all the way home (not a short drive). I wanted to get home and get to whatever project I had on my agenda. But again I sighed and said yes.

It was one of the best days ever. They played in that creek for the longest time and loved every minute of it. (And no one fell in or even got very wet.) I learned a huge lesson that day about the importance of saying yes and being flexible. And we discovered a new favorite spot. We’ve been back several times since to play.

Most of the time saying yes isn’t that dramatic. It’s “Can I play with Play-Doh?” and I want to say no because of the mess. It’s “Can I play with the sofa pillows?” “Can we rake leaves?” “Can we get out the science kit and do an experiment?” And most of the time sadly, my first thought is no. No, because it’s messy. No, because I have something else planned. No, because I just don’t feel like it.

Don’t get me wrong. A lot of time as a parent I have to say no. I’m certainly not saying yes every time they ask for something sweet as a snack or every time they want to play on the computer or watch a video. And of course there all the times I have to say no for safety reasons. There are times when something is ok but just not convenient.  (No,you can’t play with Play-Doh when we are leaving in two minutes for soccer.)

But what I’m trying to do more and more is to say yes unless there is a good reason to say no. I ask myself first “Why am I saying no?” And if the answer is mostly just that it doesn’t fit my agenda or I just don’t feel like it then I try to say yes.

I find that saying yes to my kids makes them happier (Duh!). It also often means we do something that turns out being better than what I had planned. And it makes it easier for them to accept it when I do say no.

Although saying yes intentionally is most important to me as a parent, I find it also makes a difference in my other relationships. Again, I’m not talking about saying yes to every volunteer job you are asked to take on. But saying yes to people as individuals. Saying yes even when it is inconvenient or doesn’t fit into what I want to do.

This may all seem kind of obvious to you.  But for me it’s something I have to work on over and over again.

Yesterday H. took the boys out to a church activity. I had some much desired time alone at home. Ruth was with me, but she was happily napping in the sling. I wanted to get a lot of school planning done and I was in the midst of a stack of books and my planner when the phone rang. It was my sister-in-law who wanted to stop by and show me a project she is working on. There were many reasons I wanted to say no. I was truly busy. I had already looked at this particular project of hers and didn’t really understand why she wanted me to look at it again. And mostly, as an introvert I did not want my precious alone time disturbed.

I said yes, although very ungraciously. I know it was obvious that I was begrudgingly saying yes because as soon as she walked in she apologized several times for disturbing me. She showed me the project and asked for my advice (which is why she wanted to come over). It was about 15 minutes and then she started to leave.

On the way out she asked what I was going to speak about at Sunday school since she was leaving on a trip and wouldn’t be there. I told her briefly. Then on the way out the door she said “Thanks again for your help. Thanks for saying yes.”

Here I’d been thinking about this topic all week and what I was going to say and not once in that conversation with her on the phone did I say to myself “You should say yes, remember?” I’m glad I did because in the end helping her was easy and the right thing to do.

For other people, this whole post might seem awfully silly. What’s so hard about saying yes, after all. Many people need help with saying no more than yes. But I’m a bit of a control freak. I like things to go according to my plan. So saying yes is about letting go of that plan a little bit.  It’s about being open to how God might be using me in somone else’s life. Being flexible. Being willing to try new things.

Like everyone, I’m a work in progress. I’m getting better at saying yes. I think the next thing I need to work on is saying it with a smile.