Mom is Just a Nickname

At least according to the school calendar, it’s the first day of summer! I’m looking ahead to the next several months and wondering what I’m going to do to keep the kids entertained (so that they don’t drive me crazier than I already am!). So, this afternoon, we went to the library. As per my usual, when I’m interested in a topic, I check out a stack of books about it.

Today, some of the titles I picked up: 101 Easy Wacky Crazy Activities, The Busy Mom’s Book of Preschool Activities, Easy Homeschooling Techniques. So far, I’m really happy with the ideas in the first one, but I’ve barely been able to look through the others.

There was one other I got that had me tsking and shaking my head in disagreement with some of their statements: Kids Play: Igniting Children’s Creativity. I have not read the whole thing yet, by any means, but I was flipping through it while the kids played on the computers at the library today. Among other things, I saw a list of things you should and should not do to foster creativity in your children. Glaring out at me were the words: “16. Avoid painting with children, especially if they copy you or compare.”

Ok, I used to subscribe to this theory. I never wanted my kids to feel bad for their efforts at drawing or painting, so I would refrain from doing much of either in front of them. I don’t know if it’s because J is older now, or I’ve just adopted a new way of thinking, but now I think that children SHOULD see us doing the things we are talented in. I do not think their works should be compared to mine, but rather that we should do the activities together.

Why has my thinking changed? I think of all the times I sit to do something (like draw, paint, knit or crochet) but I don’t know how to achieve the image I have in my head. I don’t know the techniques to use, I don’t know the tricks of the trade, so to speak. I’ve never had anyone to watch, anyone to emulate. So, although I am artistically inclined, and I can draw and paint better than some people, I’ve never learned how to sharpen that raw talent into a useful skill.

BUT, I have these two children who are sponges. They will soak up everything they see, everything they hear. So, maybe if I do the things I enjoy and let them watch, they will absorb some of the tricks I have managed to learn through my thirty years of trial and error. I think that this enhances their ability to create rather than stifling their desire to create.

Anyone else have an opinion on this? I’ll have to read the book more carefully to see if there’s a solid reason behind the author’s recommendation, but as of now I’m fully in disagreement!

My daughter, who is nine, set a gift on my keyboard for me to find this evening. Upon opening it, I found a piece of blue construction paper cut into a shape resembling a wide and bushy evergreen tree. Upon its branches was glued a computer printout with my name, “Beth”, at the top. Curious, I began to read:

Beth…

Nice, Sympathetic, happy, great mom

My mom and friend

Who loves her children, my dad, and books

Who is afraid of losing another child, certain spiders, and mean animals

Who wants to see her children grow up, my dad get a good job, and us live

a successful life.

Resident of the moment

…<insert last name here>

She’d been telling us at dinner about Personal Poems, which she was learning about at school. This must be an example of just such a poem. It was intriguing to me to see how she views me. I am grateful for this glimpse into her mind. I am honored that she chose to write about me. This will be going into her scrapbook (or mine!)…it’s a keeper.

Thank you, J-in!

Congrats also go to my daughter, who is wrapping up her fourth grade school year this week. She made straight A’s for the fourth quarter, as well as having good citizenship and perfect attendance this quarter! She also was recognized for making all A’s and B’s all year (only ONE B all year!) and for having good citizenship all year! Way to go, J! We’re proud of you!

I commented to my dad the other day that I’m quite envious of his yard and others which are lush and beautiful with a wide variety of plants. My own yard never seems to reach that state of verdant grace. (Poetic words, aren’t they? heh.) Granted, the longest I’ve ever lived in one place since leaving my parents’ house is about 6 years, so I haven’t had much of a chance to cultivate a large garden.

I’m very fond of perennial gardens, which don’t require yearly reinvestment of money (except possibly to add new plants). I love herb gardens, and lush woodland gardens (such as my parents have in their backyard). I even find beauty in the sparse desert gardens filled with cactus and succulents.

I have hope for my garden, wherever I am, if I can just remember my dad’s words, paraphrased, “The most beautiful gardens happen one plant at a time.” So, I came home from my dad’s house with oak trees for my backyard, daylilies for my front yard, and iris for either side of the house. If I were to try to buy all of that right now, I’d be digging for loose change to feed my kids. So, I’m very thankful to my parents for sharing the wealth in their yard.

That’s the other nice thing about perennial gardens: You can share their beauty with others, one plant at a time.

Springtime on Mars, by Susan Woodring: A Book Review

I see every book I read as a journey. Each book explores some facet of a life, each allows me a glimpse into someone else’s head. I love reading short stories. It’s fascinating to me the way a writer can work so much into such a small number of words or pages. Previous collections that I’ve read were mostly anthologies, collected from many different authors and they’ve usually been in the fantasy genre. Springtime on Mars deviated from this.

The whole collection is written by Susan Woodring and each story is stamped with her voice. Her stories are not fantasy or sci-fi, as the title may suggest. Instead, they explore American life in the last fifty years or so, touching on a curiousity about the possibilities of the universe beyond Earth, which America’s space explorations have fuelled.

So, I began reading Springtime on Mars unsure of what to expect from the journey. In the end, it took me on a walk through lives that were at once mundane and amazing. Some were far removed from my experience of American life and others touched very close to my heart due to Susan Woodring’s deeply poignant storytelling.

I feel the need to go back and read it again, though. I was so busy searching for hidden layers and meanings in the first few stories that I wonder what I missed. I think, in this case, reading each story for itself, without an agenda of my own, will allow me to get closer to the heart of the stories in this book.

This book review has been brought to you by Blog Stop Book Tours. Please click through the link to see more information about this book and it’s author, including reviews from other bloggers.