Sometimes More is Better

Posted on by
2

Technology surrounds today’s kids. There are TV’s and computers at home and iPods for everywhere else.  It’s too easy for parents to stick their kids in front of a screen to entertain them.  When playing video games kids are quiet, they are not running around, and they are not making messes. Some of the games are even educational. It seems like the perfect toy.

However, kids need to move their bodies.  Their brains are wired to need motion and active play to make important connections.  Playing video games doesn’t help with any of this.  Plus, kids need to play with other kids to learn social skills.  Video games don’t get angry and punch you if you do something to get on their nerves, other kids will.

At our house we’ve had a chronic epidemic of the game Minecraft. Every dinner time conversation, every free minute, and every playtime activity has revolved around the game. My kids were on the computer, MY computer, every minute they could to create and manipulate their miniature worlds.

Don’t get me wrong, Minecraft is a great game, it encourages creative thinking, spacial reasoning, and problem solving skills.  No one gets blown to bits in bloody combat and the goal isn’t violence.  It also, thankfully, doesn’t have really annoying background music that so many other games have.

But too much of anything is bad. Just ask my daughter who managed to eat over a pound of Easter candy yesterday.  Some years I ration the candy, this year I decided to let them discover exactly why eating too much candy isn’t a good thing.  Evil mom tactic? Heck yeah.

We definitely had too much Minecraft and screen time in general around the house.  The kids were getting increasingly crabby as the tentacles of addiction began to take hold. They physically craved their iPods and you could see the discomfort it caused when they had to be parted with them.  Before school iPod and TV had to stop because it caused too much drama and anger when I had to make them turn off and get ready to go.

Taking things away makes me the bad guy and I hate being the bad guy. So I came up with a brilliant strategy. I gave them lists of things that needed to be done before they would be allowed to play iPod.  Now, instead of saying that they can’t do something, I now can say, “Of course you can do it, when you finish your _____________.”

These lists are simple and have things on them that they already need to do.  They don’t take long and make it so I don’t have to nag. The morning list has things like brush teeth, do one chore, and make bed.  The after school list has things like do homework, and reading time.

My kids have already found one loophole.  Since they know I won’t force them to do their lists by a certain time on days where we don’t have things scheduled, they will engage in creative play with each other.  Eventually they’ll want to play their iPods and the list gets done but until then they go off and play on their own. This morning they’ve spent almost two hours playing mega blocks because they’re not ready to do their work.  There hasn’t been a word said about iPods and everyone is happy.

Which means I’m happy as well. I’ve been able to spend time on the things that I want to do, including writing this post. I don’t mind that my family room looks like a bomb hit, they are playing creatively and with each other and I didn’t have to ask for any of it!

IMG_2401

The wake of destruction left by happy kids. The bigger blocks are thankfully easier to clean up than Legos, and they don’t make you cry when you step on one.

The Man in the Cupboard, pt. 15

Posted on by
2

In past episodes Mike has survived challenge after challenge and now has arrived at the base of the willow tree and met his first she tinker.  Will he survive this challenge?  Let’s find out!

To read the previous episode, click here!

To start at the beginning, click here!

fiction friday banner

Mike brushed off the twigs and dirt from his sleeves and tugged his jacket straight. His tumble landing from his ride from the crazy blue jay had left him shaken, disheveled, and in no way prepared to meet the woman he might marry. He had envisioned so many things differently.  If he could have done this again he would have been brushed and groomed and come bearing some sort of gift.

The chance to make that sort of good impression was gone and it was all he could do not to curse at his bad luck. Especially not with a she tinker eyeing him while holding a spear.

“Answer me! What are you?” She demanded.

“The name’s Mike Finnegan, and I’m a tinker, like you,” he answered, holding his cane between himself and the armed she tinker. From above in the canopy of the willow Mike heard a gasp and the low hiss of several voices whispering back and forth.

“Impossible, all the he tinkers were killed with the curse.” She lowered her eyes ground the butt of the spear in the dirt.

Now it was Mike’s turn to be surprised. He knew that there had been some sort of calamity ages ago, but only hearing fragments here and there from sparrows visiting the house, he never had learned enough to put the pieces together. The shock of her statement startled him, he had to know more.  “Listen, I am what I say. You have to believe me, I never knew about any curse. Could you tell me more?”

She pounded the spear against the ground and her face twisted in anger as she once again stared him down. “How can you claim to be a tinker and not know this? Are you a spy for those filthy leprechauns?”

Mike stepped back. “No, I swear it!”

Another tinker stepped out from somewhere behind him without a sound.  Her hair hung in two dark braids over either shoulder and she had the air of importance about her.  “Enough Iszel, I’ll take it from here.” The honey haired tinker bowed and stepped back a few paces.

“Well, well, what have we here,” she muttered to herself as she stepped closer to Mike. She looked closely at his cane, being careful not to touch it, and then into his eyes.  With an outstretched finger she traced a line along his brow. “What you say is true, I find no deceit in you.” She smiled and the gesture sparked a warmth within him. “Welcome Mike Finnegan to Willow Keep, the last home of the tinkers. I am Queen Caliee.”

She turned to the other she tinkers who had assembled. “We shall show our guest every courtesy while he is with us.  Iszel, if you will show him to a room, I’m sure he’s weary from his travels.”

Iszel turned to the queen, never taking her eyes from him. “Are you sure he can be trusted?”

“I know you have sworn to protect me and this keep. I trust him to be what he says. Now show him into the keep.” She glanced around. “The longer we linger out here the more notice we’ll attract.”

“Yes,  ma’am.” Iszel nodded and bowed before turning back to Mike. “Alright, come with me and take care to stay on the path. We’ve taken measures to ensure our safety, I’d hate to see you caught in one before hearing what you have to say for yourself.”

“Yes, of course,” Mike agreed and followed her steps carefully.  He knew what he was capable of as a tinker in terms of creating traps and he’d hate to trigger any by accident. Iszel marched on ahead, head high, back straight.  He thought finding the she tinkers would answer all of his questions, not bring an avalanche of even more questions.

Iszel led him to a hidden passageway concealed by an outstretched root of the tree.  From within he could see an elaborate system of pulleys and gears that would raise and lower the root to allow entrance. Whoever had created all of this was surely a genius that he wanted to meet.  The passage slanted down toward a tall door flanked by two armored tinker guards who eyed him with curiosity.

Inside the doors was a great hall with pillars arching overhead formed from the roots of the tree.  The floor was set with smooth polished stones. Several she tinkers in the hall stopped what they were doing to watch him as he passed by.

They traveled down several different corridors before arriving at a door. “You should find everything you need in here, rest and get cleaned up.  Someone will come for you in a while.” Iszel said as she ushered him inside.

As soon as he entered the room she shut the door and he heard a key turn in the lock. “Hey, what’s the meaning of this?” he shouted and banged on the door. There was no answer.

To be continued…

To read the next episode, click here!

 

”

 

Quote for the Day – Success

Posted on by
3

successKeep up the good work! A little work on a big project everyday is still progress and better than waiting for that perfect day.

The Man in the Cupboard, pt. 14

Posted on by
1

We last left Mike in the hooked claws of Ben the crazy bluejay, flying through the park to where the she tinkers might live.

To read the previous episode, click here!

To start at the beginning, click here!

fiction friday banner

As Mike felt his feet leave the safety of the nest he thought for sure that he was going to die, after so many adventures to get this far, this one would be the one to end it all.  He already imagined the hooked claws loosening their grip as Ben flapped up and free of the twisted crab apple tree.

Up flying in the clear Ben whistled a happy tune to himself, each note grating on Mike’s already strained nerves.  How dare the bird be so carefree while he hung beneath fearing for his life?  He gripped the bird’s scaly ankles until his knuckles turned white. If the bird forgot about him, which was a real possibility, and released his grip, at least he’d have a chance to catch himself.

The park unfolded under them like a map, each trail, each tree a perfect miniature from this far above.  Mike searched for the two pines and the willow from the poem and tried hard to push his fear of heights aside. Each flap of Ben’s wings made his stomach clench tighter as he was pulled higher into the sky.

“Does little candy like to fly?” Ben whistled, giving Mike a little shake.

Mike held on tighter and squeezed his eyes shut. “No! Pay attention to what you’re doing!” Although it was a relief that bird hadn’t forgotten about him, he could do without any extra shaking. He was shaking enough on his own without the bird doing it to him.

“Don’t you trust a bird to fly? That’s what birds do best.” To demonstrate Ben tucked in his wings and plummeted spinning toward a wisteria arbor. Moments before striking the ground he flung his wings open again and soared through the tunnel of flowers, startling a flock of pigeons into flight in a flurry of feathers and angry screeching.

It took Mike a few moments to convince himself he hadn’t died in that very moment.  A pigeon feather had gotten stuck against his neck, and it tickled at his face threatening to make him sneeze. He didn’t dare remove it. “Never do that again, I beg you.”

“Candy not having fun? Too bad. No worry, we there soon.”

The thought of arrival brought a whole new set of worries. Ben was going to have to set him down somehow, and he couldn’t use his claws. Images of himself falling and being crushed against the ground or thrown against an unyielding tree trunk flashed through his mind, and with each one his heart beat harder.  As much as he had laughed off other threats to his life before, he truly didn’t want to die, not when he was this close to reaching his prize.

Ben banked between a pair of maples and a willow came into view.  On either side was a tall slender pine tree, just like he had said there would be. The bird swooped low to the ground and then slowed suddenly, flapping his wings forward, before dropping Mike into the undergrowth.

Mike hit the ground and rolled end over end several times before stopping flat on his back staring upwards through the thin draping limbs of the willow.

Somewhere nearby Mike heard Ben land and scratch around in the thin underbrush before hopping over and peering at him from above.  “Biscuit please.” He poked at Mike’s pocket with his beak.”

Mike climbed back to his feet and brushed himself off. “I’m fine, thank you.”

Ben missed the sarcasm in his voice entirely. “Good. Biscuit?”

“Here, take it.” Mike pulled the now smashed biscuit from his pocket which Ben snatched away.

“Where for the tarts?”

Mike described how to find Auntie’s burrow and Ben nodded vigorously, eager to leave. “Before you go you must promise me not to be a bother to her, she’ll love to feed you every once in a while but if you become a nuisance she will stop.”

“Not a bother, never a bother.  I bring her treats too, you see.  Good bird.”

Mike laughed and shook his head, Ben was a good bird at heart.  Even if he tried to eat Mike in the beginning. “Yes, you are.”

As Ben flew off Mike sensed that he wasn’t alone. A twig popped behind him and he heard whispers from the branches of the willow above.

“Turn slowly stranger or I’ll gut you,” said a woman’s voice.

Mike did as he was told, keeping his hand on his cane. Behind him he found the most remarkable she tinker he had ever seen holding a spear leveled at his chest like she knew how to use it.   She wore a walnut-shell breastplate and her hair hung free down her shoulders, reminding him of honey.

As their eyes met she narrowed her eyes and lowered her spear. “Could it really be? Are you what I think you are?”

To be continued…

To read the next episode, click here!

 

 

 

Potential, Check.

Posted on by
4

Yesterday, my family had a discussion about potential.  Strike that, yesterday I attempted to teach my kids about potential. Instead, I learned a lesson that I won’t soon forget. Never underestimate kids, they see things in different and unexpected ways.  They have the unique perspective of innocence and open-mindedness that an adult can’t match.

This isn’t saying that everything that flows from their mouths in that constant river of sound consists of rubies and emeralds.  It’s more like panning for gold.  Most of the dirt and sand is just dirt and sand, but every once in a while there will be a nugget of truth and enlightenment.

You see, I’ve created a new responsibility chart that will hopefully help my little ones take a more active role in caring for themselves and their surroundings.  There is a lot of work to do in this house and although I can do all of it, I don’t see why I shouldn’t share the load. They need to learn about the importance of work and the joy of having helped.   I also reason that if they help more with the clean up they will possibly think before leaving little messes everywhere.

IMG_2382I introduced the chart by talking about the word potential and asking if they knew what it meant. My eight year old son replied with the definition for potential energy (he’s the family physicist) and talked about how things at the tops of hills and those with more mass had greater potential or they could do more.

I asked him if he knew what it meant for a person to have potential and it confused him. Why would we be rolling people down hills?  He imagined that larger people would have greater potential energy than smaller ones.  By this reasoning Grandpa has more potential than anyone in the family.

My daughter added that Jesus has more potential than anyone, even Grandpa.  I’m still not sure how to reply to that one.  Yes, He has done great things and will continue to do great things and for that he has extraordinary potential. I admire her for thinking of it. Now I’m hoping she didn’t think of Him because we were talking about things being higher having greater potential than things that were lower. He is in heaven, that would be considered really high up.

I did my best to teach them about how when people have potential they have within them the ability to do great things.  By being better helpers and being more responsible with their time it would increase their potential and help them be even more awesome kids than they already are. While they aren’t thrilled about having daily chores, they aren’t putting up as big of a fight as they could have either.

As for you dear reader – remember that you too have great potential, especially if you are higher up, like at the top of a flight of stairs.  Oh, and you have it in you to do great things as well!

 

Counting Pennies

Posted on by
5

For over a decade I’ve carried a heavy shoe box full of tubs of pennies from house to house. These were not my pennies, but my grandfathers that he had collected year after year.  In his top dresser drawer he kept an empty margarine tub, Fleishman’s soft, and at the end of every day he would empty his pockets.  I have no idea how long he collected these pennies and I’m not sure why either. I seem to remember it had something to do with us grand kids, maybe for a starter college fund, maybe just for fun.

The day finally came where I knew I needed to do something about the pennies. After living on backs of shelves and under beds and in other forgotten corners for years it was time for them to go. Just turning them in to the bank seemed wrong, these pennies represented years of collecting. They deserved more than that. To me they represent far more than material worth, there are memories locked in there.

Part of me wants to keep the pennies because they hold many of those memories of spending time with my grandfather.  Memories like the process of making popcorn with his air popper, using the heat to melt a huge chunk of butter on top, then pouring it all into a 5 gallon ice cream tub and putting the lid on and shaking it until the seeds all bounced toward the lip so they could be removed. I love buttered popcorn to this day.

Grandpa was a solid man, tall and proud.  If there was a project he wanted to finish or a skill he wanted to learn, he went out and invested his time and money to learn about it.  He was a photographer, a horse man, a book binder, a wood-carver, and probably much more beyond what I ever saw. I wasn’t around when he was pursuing many of his hobbies, in fact I don’t remember much about his hobbies than what my brother and I found in his basement when we came over for Sunday dinners and the adults wanted to talk.

There were the trophies for his horses and other animals, there were the books, he had a dark room – which for me and my brother was the coolest thing ever.  Deep in the unfinished part of the basement were the wood working tools and carefully labeled boxes of supplies. And then there were the pennies which he kept on the upper shelf of a closet.  Each time he would fill a margarine tub he’d tape it shut and put it with the rest.

Every day for the past few weeks I’ve spent time sorting through the pennies and separating the wheat pennies from those with the Lincoln memorial. The heavy shoe box is gone now, and so are the brittle and cracked tubs of Fleishman’s. Of the pennies only a small box remains of all the special ones, the wheat pennies, the all nickel ones, the ones that he had set aside in a yellowed envelope.  Those I will keep, if anything to relive the memories that I have.

IMG_2375

 

The Man in the Cupboard, pt. 13

Posted on by
2

In the last episode Mike finally made it to Ben the bluebird’s nest, narrowly avoiding being eaten by whatever lurked in the ivy.  Now, he must see if he can make sense of the crazy bird’s ramblings.

To read the previous episode, click here!

To start at the beginning of the story, click here!

fiction friday banner

The dark shadow cast by the bird’s wings descended over the nest where Mike sat perched and trembling.  His held fast to the sticks that made up the nest, his knuckles white with the strain.  Being at the top of the tree was almost enough to unnerve him completely.  Looking down, when he dared, all he could see were branches and leaves, the ground had vanished.

“Why look, I candy I’ve got, all wrapped up nicely.  Is it a chocolate or a mint?” Ben said in a sing song voice while hopping back and forth, making the nest bounce and Mike’s stomach turn even more. “We best unwrap it and find out.”

If Mike could have worked up the courage to let go of the nest for a moment, he would have rapped the bird on the beak with his cane. “You will do nothing of the sort!

“The candy talks!” The bird laughed and cocked his head so far he was nearly upside down as he leaned in to get a better look. His black beady eyes sparkled with glee. “I’ve never had a talking candy before. Let’s get the wrapper off.” He nipped at Mike with his beak. “I do hope it’s got nuts.”

That was enough for Mike, he gripped the nest with one hand and swung the cane with the other. “Benjamin Bluejay I am not candy!” he hollered as it came down on the intruding beak with a crack.

The bird jumped to the other side of the nest, rubbing at his beak with the edge of his dusty blue wing. “That wasn’t very nice. No, no no…” He paced and twitched his wings, glancing back at Mike as if trying to figure him out.

“Listen crazy bird, I need to talk to you. You know everything about the park, what do you know of the she tinkers?”

Ben froze and fixed Mike in his stare, eyes narrowed. Then he began singing to himself, bobbing his head to the rhythm of the words.

Betwixt the pines a willow stands

Where the Valkyries rule the land.

With pointed spear and battle cry

They say that they will never die.

 

Mike leaned forward, the words meant something to the bird they had to be some sort of riddle. “Are the Valkyries the she tinkers? Are you trying to tell me where they are?”

The bird screeched and gave a curt nod. “Smart candy, now I can eat you?”

“Oh no, never, I’m not food.” Mike scooted back as the bird came closer, clicking his tongue inside its beak. “If it’s food you want I know where you can get some delicious biscuits and tarts.”

The bird stopped and stood up tall. “I like tarts, are there raspberry ones?”

“Certainly, and blueberry too.  I’m sure she will make whatever you like if you are polite.” Mike fished out one of the biscuits he had forgotten about from his pockets and tossed it forward. “Here, try this.”

Ben whistled and snatched up the biscuit. “Yes, I like. Where, tell me!”

Mike cringed at the thought of what he was about to suggest but it was the only way he could think of to get down from this tree and over the willow tree mentioned in the song.  “I’ll tell you, but first you have to do something for me.”

“What does the candy want?”

“Carry me to the willow tree where the she tinkers are, then I’ll tell you where you can get your tarts.” Mike cringed. Suggesting to be flown over the park to yet another tree? He must be losing his mind.

“More biscuit?”

Mike felt his other pocket, the second biscuit was still there. “When we get there.”

The bird gave a happy whistle and without waiting a moment grabbed Mike by the shoulders and lifted him from the nest.

To be continued…

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Inspiration at its finest

Posted on by
5

You should be Writing LokiThis made me smile.  Every once in a while, oh who am i kidding, everyday I have to make the time to work on blog posts and writing and editing my book.  Sometimes it’s easy, the chores and other to do’s fall into place and I have nice chunks of time to work.  The rest of the time it’s about as easy as giving medicine to a cat.

Still, it’s gotta be done!

The Burrito Fiasco

Posted on by
Reply

We are blessed to have a little slice of entropy at our house.  Entropy is the force of nature that abhors order and will pull things back into a general state of chaos.  In our house this force of nature is a vivacious two-year old, although his older brother and sister definitely qualify.  We all have our moments.

This morning our toddler, Baby D, woke up an hour early and proceeded to drag me around the house by my pinkie so he could turn all the lights on.  I would much rather have had a nice quiet morning cuddle where we could enjoy each other without anyone else making demands on me, but no, it had to be the lights.  I wouldn’t have minded as much but more lights on equals more likelihood of waking the rest of the flock and I’ll do anything to prevent that.

Including nuking frozen burritos at 7 AM.  After he was satisfied with the lights, Baby D     started screaming and yanking at the freezer.  When this kid gets hungry he gets a little nutso. To quiet him I opened it and he grabbed the bag of frozen burritos, ran to the couch and sat clutching them in his arms like they were a long lost favorite stuffed animal.

IMG_2364

Posing with the burritos, note the cheesy smile

You see, this kid only talks when he absolutely has to and that makes figuring out his needs tough.  When he’s tired or angry or frustrated, which is all the time, he won’t speak but instead will grunt and point and drag you around by whatever finger he can get his little hands on.  Usually it’s the pinkies because they are easier to grab and get your attention faster. They hurt more when twisted.

The whole burrito fiasco is only the tip of the iceberg in a series of bizarre and typical two-year old behavior that humbles me daily. Yesterday we had a run in with smelly markers and his hands are still green. I wish it were easier and not always this ongoing game of charades trying to figure him out. Sometimes I feel like a human metal detector with him riding on my hip and pointing towards what he is trying to find. Most of the time I can figure it out, and if I’m lucky it’s something he can actually play with and not scissors or hoards of candy.

If I’m not lucky there’s the screaming and whining and hitting and throwing things and the decent into chaos which two-year olds are famous for.  Some days, I swear he trying to see just how far down the rabbit hole of crazy I can go. I haven’t found the bottom yet, and not for want of trying.

Maybe today will be day!

 

1st Quarter Reading – Done!

Posted on by
3

Back in the beginning of the year I set forth to read 12 books from the popular BBC Big Read list.  Now the first quarter is over and three of those books are complete. Here’s  here are my reactions to each book –

A Christmas Carol, Charles Dickens: I wanted to like this book, I like the story and have enjoyed the different movies from Patrick Stewarts down to Albert Finneys versions.  It’s a classic and I don’t regret reading it.  What better way to invite a feeling of Christmas than to read about Scrooge and his magical transformation from miserable miser to generous soul. What I do regret is that I couldn’t find quiet alone time to give it the attention and focus it deserves.  Dickens is not the easiest reading even for experienced readers. I wanted to be sucked in and be able to live through the story in the same way I enjoy modern fiction but it wasn’t to be.  The words refused to come alive for me and I didn’t have the patience to force them to do so either. This book is best enjoyed in front of a fireplace with a glass of wine and time for quiet contemplation – not from one’s phone while holding a wiggly toddler who is watching one of their obnoxious TV shows.

Wuthering Heights, Emily Bronte – Somehow I escaped reading this in High School and perhaps it was for the best that I did.  Along the same lines of Christmas Carol, this book requires lots of attention to keep track of what’s going on.  I had more quiet time to work on reading this time, which helped, but in the end I can honestly say I didn’t enjoy the experience.  The characters are not likable which makes it hard to empathize with their multitude of plights.

conradjoetext96hdark12aHeart of Darkness, Joseph Conrad – Once again, this was a harder read, although it seemed easier than Wuthering Heights. Maybe I’m finally getting the hang of 18th century literature, who knows? Then again, Heart of Darkness takes place deep within the Congo, a setting I find fascinating.  It also deals with more urgent matters than Wuthering Heights, such as life and death situations and slavery, which I prefer over stories where the main plot question revolves around the question, “Does he really love me?”

So far I’ve been enjoying the challenge of reading books that fall far outside my preferred reading bubble.  The language of these books is distinct and delicious and meant to be savored, like foreign chocolate. I can’t wait to get a taste of the next one!

Here are the remaining books left on my personal list for this year –

  1. A Prayer for Owen Meany – John Irving200px-PrayerForOwenMeany
  2. Cloud Atlas – David Mitchell
  3. Midnight’s Children – Salman Rushdie
  4. The Lovely Bones – Alice Sebold
  5. A Town Like Alice – Nevil Shute
  6. Dune – Frank Herbert
  7. The Great Gatsby – F. Scott Fitzgerald
  8. To Kill a Mockingbird – Harper Lee
  9. The Remains of the Day – Kazuo Ishiguro

What are you reading this year?  Share in the comments!