Three Squares and Who Me?

It is always interesting to learn what your adult children thought of you when they were kids.

Erin posted this haiku on face book last weekend:

     A little rant for you

     Kids don't flush poo

     Dog drinks from the loo.

Then when we were face timing with Matt on Sunday he said "Dad, I remember a certain family council when you talked about toilet paper. You told us we should only use 3 squares folded over each other."   He didn't remember why we had that particular family council, he thought we were just being frugal, or as he put it, "your usual cheap selves."  I looked at him and said, "it was because you guys kept plogging up the toilets because you were using too much toilet paper."  He said "I wondered, the  plunger and I were best friends last night. I told Erin we were going to have the toilet paper talk with the kids. When Erin heard 3 squares, she looked at me like I was crazy, so I told her OK 4 squares, inflation you know."  The funny thing is when I heard John say three squares all those years ago, I looked at him like he was crazy and said (to myself) there is no way I am only using three squares!  

The other day we were with Thomas and he said  to me "I always thought you were the obsessive compulsive one in the family, but now I am beginning to think it is dad because he is so annal about his wood projects."  

What? Me compulsive? I'm not compulsive, it's John who is. He's the one who can't let a project go, who gets up at 4:30 to work on them.  I said " How am I compulsive?  Wait, maybe I don't want to know what you thought of me." 

Thomas said,  "You were the one who had to have the table set just right every night, wouldn't let us put a pan on the table, or a food container. Things had to be cleaned your way before company with inspections and everything." 

Shoot. May be I am just a little compulsive. About things that are important to me. Like quilting, and gardening, and etc. 

I Would Prefer Not To

My favorite Herman Melville work is “Bartleby the Scrivener.” Admittedly I have never gotten through “Moby Dick”, my dad’s favorite book, but have read the opening line “Call me Ishmael. . .” enough times to make it part of my cultural literacy lexicon.

I first read “Bartleby” in college (my second time) when I was living with two teenagers, a pre teen and a 7 year old as well as a wonderful supportive husband. I instantly related to the narrators puzzlement when Bartleby replied to a simple job request with “I would prefer not to.” Bartleby’s preference to do nothing eventually led him to the loss of his job and a place to live. He finally starved to death in debtor’s prison, preferring not to even eat the food he was given.

My teens, especially my second son, were just starting to push the boundaries of parental expectations, especially where family chores were concerned and were trying to see what they could get away with not doing. “I don’t want to”, “why do I have to do?” and “what for?” were frequently heard. While “I’m the mom and I said so,” made me feel better it wasn’t very effective as a way to get them to do what needed to be done.

I remember telling them the story of Bartleby around the dinner table; explaining to them the consequences of an “I prefer not to” attitude. We laughed as we took their preferences to do nothing to the logical conclusions: I prefer not to do the dishes, so there will be no clean dishes, so we can’t cook, so we will all starve to death; I prefer not do my home work, so I will not get good grades, so I won’t get a scholarship, so I won’t be able to afford college, so I will have to work at the Sugar Factory (another story) where it is smelly, hot and pays minimum wage; I prefer not to do my jobs around the house, so the house will be dirty, so mom will be cranky and we will all have to live with her.

I am reminded of Bartleby because John and I are teaching the 17 year olds in Sunday School. We hear Bartleby’s excuse from some of the teens we teach. My kids tell me Rush (the musical group) says it as well:” If you choose not to decide, you still have made a choice.”  I want to put my arms around these teens and say look at the long term consequences of “preferring not to.” They are real and you are old enough that inaction is no longer an option. If you don’t decide, life will do it for you.

One day after our Bartleby discussion I asked Chris to do something and he looked at me with a twinkle in his eye and “I prefer not to,” I looked back at him, smiled and said “I know, but do it anyway.” He did. My college education paid off then and there.

Another Goodbye

We took dad to the assisted living facility today. I was so sad: sad because dad has dementia, sad because mom can no longer take care of him, and sad because dad didn't seem sad when we left.

 As I helped him up the stairs at Brett and Kerri's house his hand was warm in mine, but he couldn't straighten up and had to use the stairs in front of him for balance. His steps were hesitant and slow as I lead him out of the house. He asked where we were going and mom just said Bountiful. She couldn't bring herself to tell him we were taking him to a care facility. But I don't think he would have understood or remembered if he knew. I was a little teary in the silence as we drove. There didn't seem to be much to say.

Kerri insisted on painting his room a warm blue green. I thought the color was going to be too dark, but she was right, it looks very restful and calm. She and I spent hours getting the room ready and I think mom was very pleased. 

When we got to the Legacy House we took dad to his room. Dad sat in the chair for a while and then Brett took him to the common room. Dad seemed pleased to meet another man, but then he just looked at the TV. 

I think I wanted dad to be sad he was being left there, sad that we were leaving, sad as I was, but he wasn't. Not that I could tell. He hardly looked at us as mom and I were leaving.

 It was another goodbye in a series of goodbyes. I love you dad.

Old But Modern

Years ago my mother-in-law, Martha, gave me a quilt block her grandmother made in the late 30s or 40sand asked me if I knew anything about the pattern. Martha told me her Grandmama Keaton had either seen a quilt or a quilt block somewhere, was intrigued with the pattern and tried to duplicate it. As far as I know she only made one block just to see if she could. 

 

Every so often I would find the lone orphan block stashed away in my quilting room and wonder what to do with it. This spring it popped up again when I was straightening my fabric shelves and I thought I should just make a little mini quilt and and give it back to Mom L as a little reminder of her Grandmama.  I found two solids in my mothers fabric stash that were perfect for the borders to complete the block.  It was nice to do a little hand quilting after all the machine piecing and quilting I have done lately. But seriously, could I do anything but hand quilt such a treasure? 

The thing I like most about this little mini quilt is that the pattern and colors are so popular right now. Red and aqua, solids and circles are all over the Internet. All the young bloggers are making "modern" quilts using these elements. It tickles me that in quilting there is really nothing modern. Most things have been done before. It just takes a new generation to discover them.

 

A Vacation from our Vacations

Vacationing with and visiting grandchildren is not relaxing. Fun, chaotic, noisy, rewarding, and just plain awesome --- yes, relaxing---no. After our trips to Mexico and my trip to St Louis and John's river trip with the explorer scouts, we were ready for a vacation from our vacations. Luckily, John, Annie and I were invited to go up to Carlos and LaDawn's float home on Lake Chatcolet at the southern end of Lake Couer d'Alene, Idaho.

The small house floats on the shore of Hidden Bay with 23 other float homes, some that date back 100 years or so, originally used for loggers and railroad workers.



Carlos and LaDawn's float home is the middle house as seen from our kayak at dusk.

The home floats on huge old timbers with additional buoyancy added. It is only accessible by boat or a 1 1/2 mile trail so all we did was swim, read on the dock, visit with each other, kayak and enjoy the beautiful views.



You can see the timbers behind Annie and me. The water wasn't Mexico warm, but nice on a hot day.

  

Does she look relaxed or what?



John and Roger in our kayak with Michael in the mini.



Cousins: beauty and the beasts.



I wanted a picture of the brothers for Grandma Lingard's calendar, and look who snuck in.

 One morning, I was relaxing on the dock with a quilt over my legs, sun screen, sun glasses and sun hat on, letting the warmth soak into my bones and looked over at LaDawn and said, "This is absolutely perfect, thank you." She smiled back at me and said "I know, isn't it great?"  It was.

Grandma Time

As an out of state grandmother I have a tendency to idealize my grandchildren. Whenever I am wishing for a grandbaby's kiss or a grandson's sly smile or a granddaughter's high laugh I remember them as perfect  little people.

I just got back from St. Louis to help Erin tend Chris and Meg's children for a week. So we had six kids under 8 years of age. It makes me wonder how my mother did it with her 7 children in 7 years.

Mom and Dad with their first four: Jeanne and Jayne, Roark not quite 4 yet, and Brett.


Erin had at least one activity planned for every day, sometimes two. Getting every one ready and out the door with sunscreen, snacks, water, bathroom runs, shoes on, combed hair and clean faces was quite the production. It just took once to realize my imagined perfect little angels were real kids! They did the same things that used to annoy me when their parents were little.

Like potty mouth. It never gets old fashioned or out of style for little boys (or big boys for that matter, just ask their grandfather to talk about their lower body's functions.) And children still whine. In gratingly high voices. And tattle on each other. And hate to go to bed. Bedtime lasted three hours one night, I was asleep before the they were one night.

But we had so much fun! We went to the zoo, swimming, a bird sanctuary, a butterfly garden, a merry-go-round, playgrounds, played games, watched lots of Batman cartoons and "My Little Pony" cartoons, (who knew that My Little Ponies were popular again?) played with Legos, Star Wars,  fixed meals in a play kitchen, rode bikes and read lots of books.

Swarming on a giant beetle.

I sent this picture to John, he asked how I got them all to sit still long enough for the picture.
I answered "threats and bribery, but in reality they did it for their grandpa.
 I told them I was sending him a picture, and they all sat down at once!

We were tempted to leave some of them locked in the kid sized cage at the bird sanctuary,
 but we came home with everyone 

And of course there were some tears. Maggie missed her mommy.

Molly acted like one of the big kids.


I think the hardest thing for me was being the care giver and not the nurturing grandma. I instinctively fell into the role of disciplinarian. We grandmas have already done that, now we want to spoil. I think one of the best moments of the week is when I sat down to mend the binding on a quilt that I had made for Lily. Suddenly I had the four oldest surrounding me asking me to teach them how to sew. And as a grandma I had time for that. The children hand stitched a purse, and pillows and blankets for their stuffed animals. They were crudely made, but made by my grand children's hands.  I do think they are almost perfect after all.

The Best Family Vacation We Could Ask For

I finally finished the photo book for our fabulous family Mexico beach trip. (Thanks Jayne and Dave.) Here are a few of my favorite photos.

I told every one that they couldn't go home until I got a decent family picture. Who knows when we will all be together again.

We couldn't have asked for better weather, tides, waves and company. Highs were in the eighties with cool mornings and evenings. The tides were extreme because of the full moon and the water splashed up to the fifth step going up the the house. This made a perfect place for the kids to play in the waves right off the steps, contained inside the walls on either side of the house.  Every one boogied boarded, surfed and kayaked until they were too tired, chafed and sun burned to do any more.

 Ian braving the waves.

 

Travis and Maggie taking a surf break.




Travis riding a wave in.



Ezra boogie boarded non stop for hours. The waves finally got too big for him to stand up in.



What is there about sand, a bucket and a shovel?



Lily let me french braid her hair like I used to do Annie's when we were at the beach.

Lest you think only the grand kids had fun, think sea kayaks, surfing kayaks, walks on the beach and the joy of just being there. 


Monica loved her first trip to Casa Alajah. The water is a lot warmer than the chilly Northwest beaches.






Annie got the favorite aunt, daughter and sister  award for bringing sand toys and bubbles.



John and Chris finally got their handcrafted sea kayaks

on the Sea (of Cortez.)



They paddled like a dream.

  

But it doesn't get any better than kayaking wind driven waves.

Every evening the sun set and the moon rose right after dinner. Perfect endings to perfect days.

Because we have the best children and grandchildren we could ever ask for.