Experiments In: The Trinity

If you've read my other blog posts on this topic, you'll know that my husband and I like to make life lessons fun for our kids (Experiments In: Watching What You Say and Experiments In: Needing Help).  In the summers, I would run themes that were fun for the kids and taught them something:  Science experiments, learning the kitchen, art, languages, gardening, etc.  One summer, the theme was science.  What a strange theme to use to teach God, then, huh?

The idea of the Trinity is a difficult concept even for adults.  How can God be Father, Son, and Holy Spirit all at the same time?  And if I can't wrap my mind around that, how can I get my children to understand it?

This bright summer day, I gathered my little ducklings in the kitchen.  I had a cup of water and a tray of ice on the counter and a small saucepan on the stove.  

I passed around ice cubes.  "What is this?," I asked.  "Ice cubes," they replied (with DUH in their eyes).  "Tell me about these ice cubes."  They said things like cold, square, wet, clear, hard to hold.  I explained that there were molecules in the ice and that they were not moving very fast.  In ice, they are packed very close together and don't like to move much.

I gave one of them the water and asked them to pass it around.  "What is this?," I asked.  "Water," they replied (seriously, Mom?).  "Tell me about this water," I said.  I got answers like wet, bluish, clear, liquid.  I explained that there were molecules in this water, and that they were moving around in there all the time, a little faster than the ice.  In water, they are not very close together.

"Okay, what is ice?"  They assured me it was frozen water.  

"Okay, what is water?"  They assured me it was melted ice.

I had them put the ice cubes and water in the saucepan, and I turned on the heat.  Soon we had steam.  

This is my favorite part:  "What is steam?"  I watched as their faces morphed into an AHA! moment.  "It's water!  It came from the water and ice!"  

"Exactly.  So, you understand now that this is all just water in three forms: Frozen, liquid, and gas, right?  But it's still all just water."  And I saw their sweet faces show pride in themselves as they got it.

"This is exactly like God.  God is the Father, the Son, and the Holy Spirit.  But He's still God.  God in three forms, still God.  Understand?"

And boom.  They got it.  A difficult spiritual concept explained by science. 

The Trinity is a big deal in my house.  Yes, God for sure, but it also stands for my youngest, Austin, who was born at 3:33.  He's convinced the trinity is his symbol (and who could argue with that?).  We also have a dog named Trinity. Because who can resist paying tribute both to God and The Matrix at the same time?  

Yep.  We're godly and geeks at the same time.  Now you know.

Payday

Work product

Yesterday I was frantically trying to figure out the finances.  Today is Payday.

I have two people inside me:  One went to college and wanted to take the world by storm.  I can definitely be a workaholic, and have been.  I love putting out a superior product with superior service.  The other person inside me has wanted to be a mom since as far back as I have memories.  I sort of run that the same way:  I'm a workaholic, I want to put out a superior product, and I want to serve them well.  The first one pays a lot more than the second, though.  And I have that tug of war that many (most? all?) women have as they want to contribute financially to their home but want to be everything to their families.  I do have a business (or three) running from home, some more successful than others.  But my most important job and most beloved job title remains Mama.

This morning I woke up to a Mama job bonus.  A million-dollar bonus.  In the night, my daughter had put something on Twitter.  For those of you unfamiliar with Twitter, you can put a hashtag (# symbol) in front of something you write on Twitter and it becomes a way for people to search for that thing.  So, if I wrote, "Just burned the roast. #foodnetwork," then people can go to #foodnetwork on Twitter and see the posts from everyone there, and the people at Food Network can comment on them (hopefully helping you with that roast).  So, here's what I woke up to:

#thingsmymomtaughtme independence, confidence, hard work ethic, success, empathy, faith, loyalty @DanetteSteimle <3

#thingsmymomtaughtme always stay classy, no matter what

She could have written anything at all - you should read some of them.  A personal fave was from a teenage boy: #thingsmymomtaughtme A jealous woman does better research than the FBI.  (Props to that mama!)  But my girl wrote things I yearn for her to know.

It's these things that are a mom's payday.  And it made me think of things my kids did that made it Payday for me:

Ty wrote the most amazing and sublime essay based on his childhood.  Some of the things that he imparted to me will stay with me forever.  He's written me poems, encouraging letters, and sweet cards.  And he never never pulls away from a hug first - even if he has to leave.  

Holly finds ways to write the most loving notes to me:  Texts, Facebook, little notes on the counter (attached to Voodoo donuts!), and now Twitter.  She shows up with her blanket, pillow, and water in hand and announces we'll be watching a show together now.  

Austin never misses kissing me right before he leaves the house and right when he comes back in the house.  He asks me about my day.  He opens my doors, carries my packages, and always offers me his arm when we're walking anywhere, even in front of his buddies.    

In my type-A way, I dwell on the finances of my family.  How can I make them go further?  How can I bring in some?  How can I pay that?  But today is Payday.  I will simply roll around in my bonuses today.  Today I will be content and so very, very grateful.


What does your Payday look like?

Voting Blind

I voted.  And I voted "blind" this time.  I was curious about whether I was truly more Republican or Democrat.  Whether I identified with one of them over the other because of other influences: because my parents leaned one way; because my friends leaned one way; because of the media.  So, as I researched each person who ran on my ballot, I covered up the party affiliation.  I read about the actual person.  I went online and checked out their values, their issues, their positions, their education, their qualifications for the job.  

And I voted.  Blind.  For governor.  For state attorney general.  For senators.  For president.  For vice president.  I blackened in those bubbles with permanent ink.  It felt amazing to know I'd chosen people I really, truly thought were right for the job.  

And then I uncovered the party affiliations and tallied them up.  Just to know. Just to see whether I truly leaned one way or the other.  And guess what?  The tally was 6 one side and 8 the other.  Right down the middle.  And that made me think...

What if we could cover up everyone's "affiliation?"  Cover up titles such as, attractive, unattractive, poor, rich, smart, dumb, thin, fat, and other words I do not say?  What if we would mentally blank people out - look at them like a mental silhouette - so we would judge them based on the content of their character?  How would our lives change?  What people would we have as friends that we don't now?  What jobs would we take that we have spurned?  What books would we read, what advice would we take, what clothes would we wear, what labels would we use/reject?

I'm going to try it.  Friending blind.  Choosing blind.  And I'm going to hope people will do that with me. 

Experiments In: Needing Help

You probably already know that my husband and I try to find fun ways to teach our kids life lessons (Experiments In: Watching What You Say).  Another of these was the Stairs Experiment.  It's one of my favorites.  

You must have or find some stairs.  The only requirement is that the portion of staircase you use be higher than the tallest kid - he can't be able to reach the top by reaching from standing at the bottom.  After you find an adequately high staircase, about 4-5 steps or so, put your husband (brother, mom, dad, sister, friend) at the top.  Just standing there.  They are to not talk; say nothing, just stand there quietly.

We put Daddy at the top.  I gathered all of the children at the bottom of the staircase.  

I showed them a $10 bill.  I waved it around a little.  I'm like that.

Then I told them, "First one to reach the top of the stairs where Daddy is waiting without touching any part of the staircase, including the walls, railing, steps, etc., gets the ten dollars."

Now, you may think that the kids would just stop and say that this is impossible and then it's over.  I've done this experiment many times, and every single time the kids try to figure out how to get up there.  Particularly if you have older kids.  They even put their heads together to collaborate - something I tell them they are certainly welcome to do.  You'll see why. ;-)  They will jump, hop, try to fly (this is why it's important the landing at the top is taller than the tallest child).  

And inevitably... "We give up!  There's no way to reach the top.  It's impossible!"  

I turned to Daddy, waiting patiently and silently at the top of the stairs, and said, "Come down and pick up Ty."  My husband walked down the stairs, picked Ty up and piggybacked him up the stairs - without Ty touching any part of the staircase, including the walls, railing, and steps.  Then he went down and piggybacked every kid up the stairs.

I called them back down, gathered them together, and told them, "Sometimes in life, when you need to do something difficult, you will need help.  You will need someone else to carry you through it."

In our house, Daddy represented God, and we told our children to rely on Him.  To allow Him to carry them through the tough stuff, up those hills of life.  But we also reminded them that, along with allowing God to carry them, they would also need to rely on parents, siblings, grandparents, friends, teachers, mentors, doctors, nurses, etc., to carry them through.  

Allowing other people to help me, personally, has always been a unique challenge.  Type-A people don't like that very much (#understatement).  Giving my kids a visual, experiential view of this was important to me.  Even though I was on the "giving" end of this experiment, I still bring up the picture in my mind when I need to let go and allow God and others to help carry me through the valleys.  

Well, that and my kids, having learned this lesson well, always come carry me out.

Fave Foods

The spread last Christmas.

I was asking my husband the other day to make his famous jambalaya when I realized how often someone in the family asks him to make it.  I started thinking about how often we do that - eat the same meal over and over because it's our favorite - and I came up with two meals that we eat really often; like, every other week.  It kind of shocked me to really think about how often we eat these things, but it was also comforting to think about our family loving these two really different meals.    

The Favorite Foods Criteria:
1.  Every member of the family must like it.
2.  It must be relatively easy to make.
3.  The ingredients must be mostly on hand (no running to the specialty Norwegian-only store in the next state for some obscure spice).
4.  Bonus:  The recipe is one that is a whole meal in itself:  The ingredients include meat, veggies, and a starch - or no meat if you're a vegetarian.

So, in the spirit of sharing, here are the recipes for Daddy's Jamba and 7-Layer Chinese Chicken Salad.  They are easy to make, easy to alter the ingredients to fit your taste, easy to double, taste amazing, and your family will love them.  Don't expect leftovers.  

Easy Cajun Jambalaya

2 t olive oil

2 boneless, skinless chicken breasts, cut into bite-size pieces

8 oz kielbasa, diced

1 onion, diced

1 green pepper, diced

1/2 c celery, diced

2 T garlic, chopped

1/4 t cayenne pepper

1/2 t onion powder

salt and pepper to taste

4 c chicken stock

3 bay leaves

2 t Worcestershire sauce

1 t hot pepper sauce

2 c uncooked white rice

Heat oil in a large pot over medium high heat. Sauté chicken and kielbasa until lightly browned, about 5 minutes. Stir in onion, bell pepper, celery and garlic. Season with cayenne, onion powder, salt and pepper. Cook 5 minutes, or until onion is tender and translucent. Add rice, then stir in chicken stock and bay leaves. Bring to a boil, then reduce heat, cover, and simmer 20 minutes, or until rice is tender. Stir in the Worcestershire sauce and hot pepper sauce.

7-Layer Chinese Chicken Salad

Salad

5 cups shredded romaine lettuce

1 package (3 oz) Oriental-flavor ramen noodle soup mix

2 c finely chopped cooked chicken

1 can (11 oz) white shoe peg corn

1 large tomato, finely chopped

2 med green onions, finely chopped (2 T)

1/2 c coarsely chopped dry-roasted peanuts

Dressing

2 T sugar

1 t salt

1/2 t pepper

3/4 t grated ginger root

1/4 c vegetable oil

3 T white vinegar

In bottom of large 3-qt serving bowl, arrange lettuce.  Discard the seasoning packet from soup mix; coarsely crush noodles.  Layer noodles and remaining salad ingredients over lettuce in order listed. 

In small jar with tight-fitting lid, shake dressing ingredients until well blended.  Pour over salad.  Serve immediately.  

Family:  What meals did I leave out?

Readers:  What are your favorite meals?  Send me your recipes!  

Experiments In: Watching What You Say

When my kids were growing up, I would try to find fun ways to teach life lessons.  One of these was The Toothpaste Experiment.  I have performed this experiment many times to many groups at many ages.  It's timeless.  And I'm betting many of you even know what I'm talking about and have performed this experiment, too!  This is how it's done:

We sat our 5 kids at the dining room table and put paper plates in front of them.  We sat travel-size tubes of toothpaste on the paper plates.  

"Okay, kids, now open the toothpaste and squeeze out as much toothpaste as you can get out of the tubes."  Having no idea whether this was the "contest" part, they squeezed and squeezed until they couldn't get anything else out of the tube.  

"Are you done?  Did you get it all out?"  I was assured they did.  

"Okay..........first one to get all of the toothpaste back in the tube gets ice cream!  All of it - not one drop can be outside the tube."

There were some determined little faces as they tried their best to get that icky sticky stuff back inside the little hole.  Toothpaste covered the paper plates and their hands up to their wrists - and sometimes their faces as they scratched their heads trying to figure this out.  

At some point, everyone will give up.  We all know it's impossible to get all of the toothpaste back into, well, anything.  

As I passed out damp towels, I explained.  "Just like you can't get that toothpaste back into that tube, once you say something out of your mouth, you can't suck it back in, either.  You must be very careful of what you say to people - to their face or someone else.  You must be careful what you say about people - to others or on the internet.  You cannot take those words back.  You cannot suck them back into your mouth.  And...and this is the hard one...you must be careful about what you think about people, as this will eventually form your words.

Those are the things you can't do, but what if you do hurt someone with your words?  You must ask for forgiveness.  No exceptions.  And it doesn't at all matter whether you intended to hurt them or not.  If your words hurt them, you've hurt them, no matter your intentions.

Now, let's go get that ice cream and chat about this."

And we'd go to Baskin-Robbins, order crazy-colored cones (only children can eat bubblegum ice cream with actual gum inside stacked on top of fudge brownie), and have some of the best conversations around those tiny round tables that are never big enough (right?).  "Janie said something that hurt me.  Does this mean I can go make her ask for forgiveness?"  "What about if I'm repeating what someone else said?  Does that count as me hurting someone?"  "What if somebody takes my words wrong?"  "Can I have more ice cream?"  

I have done this experiment while teaching Sunday school, youth groups, and the varsity cheer squad at cheer camp.  Though I will admit that, the older your subjects, the more creative they will get with trying to get the toothpaste back in the tube (make sure to give uber-clear instructions that ALL of the toothpaste has to be back in the tube and that they cannot rip open the tube to get it back in and that using the stuff that's left to make lipstick doesn't count as "creative points"), everyone - everyone - will get the message at the end.  

And, most importantly, they'll remember it.  "That was a toothpaste moment, wasn't it Mama?"  Yep, baby, it was.  

You Don't Have To Agree With Me

I'm kinda obsessed right now with the idea of not having to agree with everything (or, really, anything) someone else says.  Yes, the presidential election is highlighting this, but I've always been obsessed with this concept. You know how all mothers have certain things they emphasize to their kids - and each mother has her own buttons?  Mine are, in no particular order:  Lying, giving back to the community, loyalty, manners, and learning how to disagree.

Kids come home with the weirdest ideas, whether heard on the internet or on the playground:  

"Mama, the Wright brothers were afraid of heights!"  

"Did you know we've never actually been to the moon?"  

"Dad!  Burps are contagious!"  

"Did you know cat fur is an ice cream flavor in China?!"  

At a certain age (*koff koff* middle school!), you canNOT convince the kids these things aren't true.  So, after trying ("Seriously, honey, Chinese children don't lick cat fur."), and after being shot down ("But MOM.  Joey heard it from Julia who's aunt actually WENT to China."), I would simply say, "Hmmm.  That's interesting."  NOT have a huge screaming argument with a prepubescent child in the middle of the kitchen.  

So whyWHY do adults do this with each other?!  I have several adult children now.  We have the best debates about, well, everything.  My oldest told me just last week, after discussing the last presidential debate in which we didn't really agree on much but had a fantastic conversation, that he tells his friends he loves discussing politics and religion with his parents.  Strange concept.  I'm not saying this to pat myself on the back - simply to say that, if I can have these conversations with my children, with whom I disagree on much, whyWHY can't this happen on a regular basis with my friends?

You love Romney?  Tell me why and I'll think that's interesting.  You think Obama is the bomb?  Tell me why and I'll think that's interesting.  You are an Independent and think the system stinks?  I want to learn more.  I never know what I'll learn from you, so tell me what you think.  Seriously.  At the end of that conversation, maybe you'll be interested in what I think.  

It could happen.

It's Not a Sleepover Until Somebody Cries

Girl sleepovers are inherently different than boy sleepovers.  Anyone who has both girls and boys knows this.  In my family, the rule is that I supervise all girl stuff:  mani/pedis, bra shopping, shoe shopping (okay, fine, all shopping), hair salons, cheerleading practice, and, yes, sleepovers.  My husband handles all boy stuff:  grunting at sports games, supervising (*koff koff* playing!) video games, and, yes, sleepovers.  

Supervising sleepovers for girls looks like this:

1.  Spend 4 hours the day before making The Chart of where everyone will be sleeping, trying to keep all BFFs together and people who are in a fight away from each other.  Why does the Free World not know that mothers who've done this successfully could solve the logistic problems of the entire Middle East?

2.  Greet all girls with a hug and smooch and tell them how their shoes are super awesome and their hair looks fabulous.

3.  Show them where the food is and make sure to point out that there is chocolate.  

4.  Get out The Sleeping Chart and emphasize that it is to be followed.   

5.  Turn on horrifyingly terrible music that will give you a migraine for the next 12 hours.  Turn it up to level 8 and leave the room so the girls can have fun.

6.  Realize that the girls just turned the music up to level 12.  Go in search of Excedrin.

7.  After an hour, hear arguing and go take a peek to see what's up.

8.  Find that The Sleeping Chart has been thrown out the window and 3 girls are crying.  The room is split like it's Survivor Bonus Room and they are trying to vote someone off the island.

9.  Try to intervene and diffuse.  Bob and weave.  

10.  Eventually get everyone calmed down, apologies given, forgiveness given, hugs all around.  World peace.  Quickly pass chocolate around in an attempt to keep the love going.

11.  Repeat #7 through #10 three more times, roughly every other hour or so.  

12.  They finally fall asleep somewhere around 3 am with 3 girls in one of the bedrooms because they're not talking to 2 others, 2 girls smashed in the corner because they're not talking to 3 others, and the rest in the middle of the room.  I finally go to bed.

13.  I wake up to make pancakes and all of the girls file into the kitchen.  No one remembers why they were mad and start chatting excitedly about "what a great sleepover that was last night!"  

14.  Husband pulls me aside and asks if everyone's okay with all that crying the night before.

15.  Inform husband "It's not a sleepover until somebody cries."  It's just the way girls are.

16.  Husband informs me that he'd rather slit his wrists than be me.


Supervising sleepovers for boys looks like this:

1.  Buy as much food as you can afford.  Then buy a lot more.

2.  You can't greet the boys because they will run around to the backyard and go through the back door.

3.  They will eat, play video games, shoot hoops, eat, then ask for more food.

4.  Feed them again in the morning.

5.  Lesson:  Boys are too easily distracted to fight.  And also just don't care.  "You're a jerk."  "Dude!  That was rude."  "Oh, sorry."  "Ok, let's shoot hoops."

My husband thinks he is the luckiest man on Earth.  

But you know what I think?  I think my life is closer to girl sleepovers.  I greet life with open arms and general hope.  I try to chart out the right path that God wants me on, and then that generally doesn't work out (right?).  I have struggles and arguments and make-ups.  I try to forget the hard stuff in the morning and move on.  But one thing is for certain:  It's not life until somebody cries.  Because you have to do that to get to the pancakes in the morning.  

Oh, and always.  Always!  Remember the chocolate.  

Blond Moments From A Stunning Brunette, Chapter 1

I have a stunning brunette daughter with eyes like honey caramel.  She's intelligent, talented, and gorgeous.  But once in a while...she pops out with some seriously head-scratching stuff.  Today I bring you some of our favorite moments:

Holly on:

Food:
"Mama, can you OD on broccoli?"  

Weather:  
"If you like the rain, I don't understand your life at all."

Punctuation:
"I laugh out loud every time I type an exclamation point because I was told 'nobody is that happy.'"

Apologies:
"Sorry to everyone for my existence last night."

Safety:
"I'm walking to my car with my pink mace in hand.  Mess with me now punk."

Shopping:
"They say this city is the happiest place on earth, but I don't see a Nordstrom."

Nature:
"A bug just went into my backpack.  I panicked and just zipped it up.  Guess I won't be opening my backpack like...ever again."

Living independently:
"Couldn't figure out how to go through the car wash. #mydaddyspoilsme"

Telling Daddy her tire is flat:
"It's not that bad. Only the bottom half of the tire is flat."

I adore my girl, and the family has a lot of fun with some of her Hollyisms.  I've been saying for years "That's another one for the book, Blond Moments From A Stunning Brunette."  So, here you go.  Chapter 2 to come....

What have your teenagers said that cracks you up?

Keeper Of All Knowledge

I am the Keeper of All Knowledge.  Or so my son named me when he was 7.  All those questions your kids ask you when they are young, I could answer.  Why is the sky blue?  Because blue light from the sun is scattered more than other colors, son.  Why is the grass green?  Because of chlorophyll, sugar.  I adore research, so what I don't know, I look up - with my kids.  It didn't seem to change their awe that we had to look the answer up; they were just amazed that I even knew where to find the answer. 

• In an average lifetime, a person will walk the equivalent of 5 times around the equator.  

• Diet Coke was only invented in 1982.

• If you have 3 quarters, 4 dimes, and 4 pennies, you have $1.19 and also the largest amount of money in coins without being able to make change for a dollar.

• The Neanderthal's brain was bigger than yours.

• On the new hundred dollar bill, the time on the clock tower of Independence Hall is 4:10.

• It took Tolstoy 6 years to write War and Peace.

• The King of Hearts is the only king without a mustache.  

• Every year, about 98% of the atoms in your body are replaced.

• Elephants are the only mammals that can't jump.

• The word "nerd" was first coined by Dr. Seuss in If I Ran the Zoo.

I got good at it.  Bring it on!  

But then the questions slowed.  The kids grew.  They learned how to find their own answers (that was the whole point, after all), and I got a little less amazing in their eyes.  I started to gather random information that nobody was asking and realized that I liked it.  I love just knowing stuff.  It's like extending school forever, the Degree of Perpetually Continuing Education.

The kids grew even more and, what do you know, they started asking questions again.  To my delight, the questions were much harder, less random, and much more relevant to their life.  Mama, what is this medication the doctor prescribed?  Should I take it?  Mom, I've been trying to study and my brain isn't retaining any information; why is that and what do I do?  Hey Mom, what do you put on a burn?  

Ahhhh, I'm still relevant, and so is my weird little cache of info.  And when the kids continue to grow and become Keepers of their own Knowledge, I have grandbabies to look forward to.  I think I'll keep that education going...

Anyone else love simply knowing a lot of random stuff?  What's your favorite random fact?

What questions did your kids ask you that made you run to the computer to look up?  What answer(s) made them look at you like you are The Keeper of All Knowledge?

I Should Just Donate My Body To Science Now

Once again, I have been told I have a "super rare condition."  Awesome.  For those of you who are glowingly healthy and your biggest worry is getting a flu shot, know that I covet your life.

I have a condition called orthostatic tremor.  Yep, it's a "super rare condition."  It took me years to get that diagnosis, 3 neurologists and 6 major tests later.   Having OT means that my arms and legs have a tremor and weakness.  Most of the time, the tremor cracks me up (I realize it's sort of horrifying to other people, but try to eat soup with a tremor - it's hilarious), but the weakness is no joke.  I've learned to adapt and my life goes on without too much trouble.  

Then I fell.  Stupid weak legs.  Unfortunately, I fell while standing on one of my kitchen chairs.  Which are bar stool height.  I just wanted to paint something pretty on my kitchen walls.  And also I get a little stubborn about trying to live like "normal" people once in a while.  Go figure.  Anyway, I twisted my left foot on the way down from this fall.  It became this freaky blueberry balloon.  Ew.  But we had it x-rayed and it had no breaks, so I figured it would heal like a sprain.  I stayed in bed for 4 weeks because I couldn't walk on it at all, but still figured it was just a sprain healing slowly.  

I went to my doctor, and she said, "That should be healed by now.  And, um, it looks wrong."  Yeah, I pay actual money for this.  She ordered an MRI, which turned out to TADA! show nothing.  

But I still couldn't walk on it, so off I go to a foot specialist.  This guy says, "I looked over your MRI, which shows nothing remarkable, but I'm staring at your weird-looking foot which is still black and blue after 5 weeks and I can tell something's wrong."  Yeah, I pay actual money for this, too.  He says multiple things are going wrong with my foot:  1.  I have a neuroma.  2.  I have plantar fasciitis.  3.  I may have something called CRPS (he pronounced it "Crips," which made me think he would pull out a gang bandana or something), which is Complex Regional Pain Syndrome.....wait for it.....which is a "super rare condition."  Wonderful.  I was hoping to have another one of those.  

Now I have to go see a neurologist to be worked up for CRPS.  Really?  I just sprained my foot!  I call my oldest son, who is laughing hysterically on the phone while I'm telling him this story.  When he can control himself, he chokes out, "Mama, just donate your body to science now and get it over with."  

I'm actually considering it.