He is our constant source of entertainment.
I have a new musical love, thanks to Izzy. He saw one of Josh Ritter’s cdâ€™s at Starbucks and got curious because it boasted NPRâ€™s recommendation. If NPR loves something, weâ€™re pretty likely to love it, too. Our tastes and NPRâ€™s tastes run similar that way.
So, with the recommendation of NPR giving us some hope, I put Josh Ritter into the search field of my Rhapsody app. It was immediate love for both Izzy and me. They say his style is Americana. Thatâ€™s a new genre term for me, but I get that his influence is folk, and after hearing him I think I understand the Americana label, especially after listening to this beautiful songâ€¦
The Temptation of Adam
If this was the Cold War we could keep each other warm
I said on the first occasion that I met Marie
We were crawling through the hatch that was the missile silo door
And I don’t think that she really thought that much of me
I never had to learn to love her like I learned to love the Bomb
She just came along and started to ignore me
But as we waited for the Big One
I started singing her my songs
And I think she started feeling something for me
We passed the time with crosswords that she thought to bring inside
What five letters spell “apocalypse” she asked me
I won her over saying “W.W.I.I.I.”
She smiled and we both knew that she’d misjudged me
(For the rest of the lyrics click here)
Girl In The War
. . . Is another story-telling folk song where Ritter pulls biblical characters into the story and works a lot of wordplay into the song. I wish I could say I fully understand it. I donâ€™t really get it. All I know is it’s beautiful.
Thereâ€™s one that takes me back to my earlier years. Ritter was a child of the 70â€™s like I was and this song â€” to me â€” sounds like the Partridge Family meets Pink Floyd. I bet you never thought a combination of those two bands was possible. I can only find live versions, so this recording isn’t as good as his studio version . . .
Change Of Time
But if you prefer the softer folksy style, hereâ€™s another really moving, beautiful one. It gives me chills. The old American patriotic drum beat rolls in partway through and then the music continues to build toward a higher and higher climax. Have a listenâ€¦
“It’s so nice to be back home,” he said.
. . . while sitting with me at the local wine bar.
My 12-year-old son, Blake, recently invested $150 in the development of skills that will enable him to be a professional graphic animator, possibly by the time he is sixteen. Part of this comes from the fact that we got rid of television in our home a few years ago, which leaves our kids a lot of time to develop artistically. Part of it, in my opinion, has to do with our philosophy on allowance and chores.
Izzy and I do things a bit different from how most other parents do them (no surprise there). We don’t pay our kids for doing their regular jobs:
- 5 minutes minimum daily bedroom cleaning.
- Daily bathroom cleaning.
- Daily vacuuming of the living room.
- Daily kitchen cleaning after dinner.
- Dog mess clean-up
We also expect Blake to babysit the kids without pay while we run errands (although we pay him when we go out for fun).
I suppose that’s debatable.
We do pay our kids an allowance, but their allowance is in no way tied to their responsibilities around the house. It’s a philosophy I believe in. If they forget to do their jobs they either get a lucky break or they have more to do the next day. But we pay them their allowance.
It was important to me that my kids never associate their responsibilities with getting paid. They clean because it is their responsibility as a member of the family and a resident of our home. If they ever get to a point where they refuse to clean, they will just lose all of their privileges, like:
- computer use
- friend dates
- desserts or snacks, or any foods not necessary to sustain life
- clothing that is not necessary to maintain modesty or health
- toys or fun stuff
- extra-curricular activities
So far the kids have never refused to clean, and complaints are fairly minimal. They forget a job here and there, but for the most part they just do them. If they forget and get on the computer, they run the risk of losing their computer privilege for the day. Blake often has his jobs done before we are even out of bed in the mornings. The kids understand that they have to do their part. Once their regular jobs are done, they are allowed to perform extra jobs for pay if we can use the help.
Allowance With No Strings Attached
We pay our kids allowance because we want to help them learn to use money. We refuse to pay them to do the things they should do. We have never, ever said they would lose their allowance for any reason. They don’t earn money for good grades or good behavior. They don’t lose their allowance for inappropriate behavior or poor grades.
- We expect them to be decent human beings because their actions effect others.
- We insist they get good grades because they are fully capable (or if they were not, we would expect them to get the kind of grades they could reasonably get), and because they will need to get scholarships.
- We can see they are capable of scholarships, so if they want to go to college, we require them to live up to their abilities and earn one. We have told them a number of times that we will not pay for their college tuition.
- We expect them to share most all of their belongings with each other. Having their own allowance enables them to buy some things that are truly their own that they do not have to share.
How They Can Spend Their Money
We have a collection jar for the purpose of donating to an organization called, Kiva. Kiva advances micro-loans to individuals in third-world countries who are trying to start or sustain a business. The kids are only allowed to donate a percentage of their money to this cause. We match their donations times 7.
We gave them a cap because:
- Trinity would give away most of her money and feel guilty about any she kept for herself if we didn’t cap the amount.
- We like the reverse psychology of telling them they’re limited in how much they can donate.
To help them learn to spend well, we have these rules for how they can spend their money:
- They have to declare to us their intention of purchasing something. We have the right to tell them no. For example, Blake can only buy one or two video games in a row, and then he has to buy something else before he buys more games.
- After declaring their intentions to us they have to post those intentions, along with the date, on the fridge.
- They have to wait 2 weeks after “declaring” before they can actually buy their items. This is the part that gets the most resistance, but they have realized how quickly they change their minds about what they think they want. They’ve also learned from this how seductive advertising sways them to make unwise spontaneous buying decisions. The 2-week requirement forces them to be sure they’re not acting from the gut when it comes to money. Every time they change their mind they see how the two-week wait prevented a poor buying decision.
Once in a while, when there was no real way to plan, we let them make spontaneous purchases.
I love the messages we send our kids every day with our method. As they get older, we see them invest more and more of their time developing their talents and skills. In my (biased) opinion, they’re growing up to be pretty awesome, independent individuals who understand their place in the tribe, as well as how their choices effect themselves and others. They’re very cool people.
If I believed in fate or some powerful will outside of myself, I might have concluded that this Paperclipping episode was destined to never happen.
But I don’t. So it did.
I fully acknowledge that each blundered attempt to print and retrieve the photos for the above project sprung from my own spaciness. Here is why it took me 5 attempts to get the photos I needed . . .
I brought my cd of photos to Costco. Because I print from tiff versions instead of jpeg, and the Costco computers can’t really handle tiff files (boo on them!), I waited 45 minutes for my photos to load. It was after that 45 minutes passed that I realized I had burned the wrong photos to my cd.
I burned a new cd and returned to Costco. I waited the approximate 45 minutes for my files to upload to the computer (again), this time to learn that I forgot to convert my collage of pictures from a psd file to a tiff file. As a psd it was unprintable.
I gave up on the tiff version and decided to upload it as a jpeg via the internet.
(Since then I discovered that you can upload tiff versions to their website, BUT the Costco computers rename the files as jpeg’s. My technician said she “thinks” they’re just renaming them but not actually changing the files themselves. I’m not sure I believe that).
When I got to Costco to pick them up, I realized I didn’t have my Costco card because I had taken it out of my wallet in order to upload my photos. It was sitting on the computer back at home, which meant I couldn’t get in.
I went home, grabbed my card, and returned to Costco where my collage was finally waiting for me.
At this point I had missed my deadline for the scheduled video shoot of the project for which I needed the photos. Because we were leaving town that afternoon, Mother’s Day became our only available day to shoot the episode. Fortunately, my family gave me the most amazing Mother’s Day, which made it almost a complete pleasure to have to work a few hours on “my” day.
BUT . . .
. . . it wasn’t really that easy. I took my collage of photos out of town with me for a little prep work so I would be ready on Sunday.
Then I left them. In the hotel.
That’s right . . I did not have them when we returned home before the episode shoot on Sunday.
. . . was a success. I ordered my collage print AGAIN on Saturday. I picked it up. It was done correctly. All of the photos were on the collage. We did the shoot on Sunday, and released the episode with a dramatic drag of the hand across my forehead on Monday.
But seriously? Five attempts?
The Story Of My Life? Well . . .
I guess I could conclude this post with a “story of my life” sob, but it wouldn’t be true. This many attempts with accompanying blunders for one simple task isn’t typical. Plus, I also commit singular blunders that result in odd experiences, like finally finding the ketchup bottle under the bathroom sink. Or where I can hear my cell phone ringing incessantly from the direction of the kitchen counter, though I can see it’s NOT ON the kitchen counter. And then, after almost convincing myself that I’m insane and only imagining the ringing, I find it inside in the dishwasher. Underneath the kitchen counter.
At which point I am still convinced that I’m insane, but for a different reason.
So my train of blunders, plus my singular crazy ones, all derive from the fact that I have extremely exciting activity going on in my brain that distracts me from the mundane acts of life. Fortunately, I did not fall for an understandable “the gods are against me” conclusion and give up. I just needed a big hug from my very supportive and unbelievably patient partner, and I worked it all out.
But may a train of that many errors never happen again . . .
What more could they do for me on Motherâ€™s Day when my husband and kids already treat me like every day is all about me? Turn it into Motherâ€™s Week! It wasnâ€™t intentional but thatâ€™s basically what they did. Aiden started celebrating his mama four days early when he began making me handmade Motherâ€™s Day gifts like this â€œI Love Youâ€ bracelet (which I decided worked better as an awesome arm-band)â€¦
Handmade gifts from Aiden continued to come in daily. I made him save the rest for the â€œreal day,â€ but talk of Motherâ€™s Day by the kids seemed never ending. You would have thought it was Christmas. In fact, early in the day on Saturday I mentioned that I got a sudden craving for ethiopian food and that evening, as I was about to boil artichokes for dinner, Israel and the kids announced we would now have a â€œMotherâ€™s Day Nightâ€ and they took me to Cafe Lalibella in Tempe where we all dug into piles of wot with our injeera.
(Did that spark your curiosity? Good. Go try it. Yum).
After we got home the kids banned me to the bedroom because they didnâ€™t want me to accidentally see something that an unnamed somebody was preparing. I think it was this very amazing and hilarious graphic my twelve-year-old son, Blake, designedâ€¦
I am now calling on my Motherâ€™s Right To Brag to tell you that Blake didnâ€™t copy light bulbs somewhere and photoshop them into his picture or anything like that. He didnâ€™t use someone elseâ€™s models. He designed those bulbs from basic circles using professional software that is very difficult called, Blender. Iâ€™m sure that my three or four blog readers donâ€™t know what that is, so let me say that my son is a genius and you can just take my word for it.
The Actual Motherâ€™s Day
On Sunday morning â€” the big day that everybody had been revving up for â€” I opened my bedroom door to find my three children in a youngest to oldest pose with about 9 balloons all bright and shiny around them. They greeted me with a little chant by which they each took a turn throwing their balloons into the glorious air. I opened all the handmade gifts with my kiddies around me and I basked in the beauty of the clean room, which was Trinityâ€™s gift.
Israel surprised me with a subscription to a super cool music application called Rhapsody (you will be hearing about this on some Music Monday to come).
And then we ventured out to The Compound Grill for brunch. Vegan breakfast is unheard of around here and the chef made a number of yummy vegan entrees for the occasion! There was even a guitarist-harmonica-ist-singer named Geoffrey J. who accompanied us. Loved it.
Next, we recorded a Paperclipping episode (you will learn the almost traumatic reasons we had to work on Motherâ€™s Day very soon) and then Israel took me out for his gift number two (because he can never stop at just one). Clothing shopping! Yay for Tillyâ€™s and Wet Seal. Yay for Izzy!
When I kissed my kids goodnight and told them how wonderful they made the day for me, Blake and Aiden told me they LOVE Motherâ€™s Day. Blake said, â€œI canâ€™t wait until Iâ€™m a mother . . . Oh, wait.â€
And thatâ€™s it. Okay, well, not really. I must mention that when I woke up on Monday, my kids wished me a happy Post Motherâ€™s Day. Geez, Iâ€™m totally spoiled.
* * *
Note: I realize that two of my last three posts have been braggy ones about how sunshiny and Brady Bunch-perfect my family is, and how much they adore me. While that part about my family is true, I promise I also have plenty of self-depricating content to blog about. Those seem to be the Readerâ€™s Choice posts, based on the fact that they draw the most comments. I will indulge you soon. Please be patient, my dearies.
Iâ€™m diving back into novel-writing mode again. I was there between August and November of last year, especially the entire month of November. After that I resurfaced to focus on some other things and to walk away from my November novel so that when I returned, I would be able to evaluate its first draft with more objectivity.
Having read it through a week ago, I am happy to say that this novelâ€™s first draft is more complete than I thought it would be and I think it has some decent potential. Now my job is to whistle the details into line so theyâ€™re consistent throughout, to tie up a couple ends that I left loose, and to flesh out the story, especially so the reader can believe the motivation driving the charactersâ€™ actions, words, and choices. I also need to do some research on a number of subjects that turn the story.
One thing that surprised me when I started writing fiction is that I can often listen to music while writing. And Iâ€™m talking about music with lyrics. It turns out good lyrics move me to write. There are two lines from two songs in particular that stick with me because the imagery and the metaphorical verbs and nouns are so potent they communicate an entire story with just a handful of words. Check it out:
From The Killers â€” When You Were Young:
Weâ€™re burning down the highway skyline
On the back of a hurricane that started turning
When you were young
From Red Hot Chili Peppers â€” Scar Tissue:
(Right now my very favorite song lyric)
Falling all over myself
To lick your heart
And taste your health
The verb choices and the imagery of this one . . . itâ€™s so desperate. Itâ€™s physical, intimate, even sensual.
Both sets of lyrics are intense. Both share a story of their loversâ€™ histories. So much story there from three short lines.
Iâ€™m not at the point of laboring over the exact words in my novel yet. Iâ€™m still working the plot and the character development, and carving the pieces so they fit together. But the complicated layers of music from bands like the Chili Peppers stirs my emotions into the frenzy that I need for novel-writing. And catching the brilliant word play during my sit-back-and-breathe moments motivates me to work toward that stage where Iâ€™ll get to fiddle with the words.
If youâ€™re my friend on facebook then you might have seen the Week In The Life photos Iâ€™ve been posting. Last week I adopted the role of photojournalist for my familyâ€™s everyday life. Okay, to be truthful, when I looked back at my photos for the week to see what I could observe about each family member I realized that my documenting skewed toward my own everyday life, more than my familyâ€™s.
Thereâ€™s not as much to learn about Trinityâ€™s week, for instance, as there is to learn about my own. I did get a lot of Izzyâ€™s day to day, though, and made some observations I thought interesting enough to share.
From my series of photos I proved that Izzy is almost always physically attached to technological devices, especially those involving video. Let me illustrateâ€¦
If you know Izzy at all, you already know that about him. What you may not know is that when his hands are not gripping technology, they are sometimes strumming a guitarâ€¦
And every few weeks his hands are buying me the most beautiful bouquets of flowersâ€¦
They cook dinner with me (and I confess his hands do more cooking these days than mine do)…
They take the kids to school every morning while my hands are lifting weights or supporting an alligator pose or plank or cutting through the air while I run on the treadmill…
…and pick the kids up with me after school ends.
They even keep the kids and the dogs busy so I can have a daily Me-Time…
What I failed to capture from the week is how you will truly find Izzy and me physically attached to each other even more often than you will find him attached to a piece of video equipment or computer or other device. I donâ€™t mean to get graphic here. Weâ€™re just affectionate. Iâ€™m pretty sure that my kidsâ€™ memories of their mom and dad will involve a lot of the hugs, the piggy-back rides, the hand-holding, the kissing, the laughing and teasing about stuff we hope they donâ€™t understand yet.
I know if the day eventually comes when my contact with Izzy will have to be through memories, it is the physical affection that I will remember. The kisses on the back of my neck that give me chills. The massages. His rock-hard biceps. The smooth nape of his neck that I like to feel while heâ€™s driving. The warm spooning in bed. The dancing. Lots of dancing. The way he sweeps me up around his waist. How, if Iâ€™m wearing a mini-skirt when we arrive at the school to pick up the kids, he loves to offer me his back and ask, â€œPiggy-back ride?â€
These are the types of physical contact images I failed to capture. Hmmm . . . maybe I have a new photo project to work on soon.
In my teeth.
After years and years of painful and humiliating metal contraptions and wires. Five years, to be exact.
(Congratulations. You are now looking at the most embarrassing picture of me ever to appear on the internets).
After so many years of braces and weird retainers and a headgear, it was horrifying to get those braces off and find my teeth immediately separating back toward their original spots.
The Gap Before braces:
The Gap That Is There Now:
The black gap, post braces, started as just a slight narrow slit, but when it continued to grow and grow, I had no way of knowing if it would ever stop. Whenever I saw the gap I imagined an eventual inch-wide chasm, so I hated the gap in my teeth until last year when I realized my teeth seemed to have found the happy place they were looking for and havenâ€™t marched ahead in their east and west treks in a few years.
So now that the nightmares of a huge hole into which a dentist tries to insert an extra fake tooth have stopped, I finally like the gap in my teeth. I think itâ€™s kind of cute and itâ€™s different. I like different. A lot. As long as itâ€™s not hideous.
So it occurred to me the other day to also like the new jagged splotch-line in my forehead that stretches from the center of my hairline under my bangs and reaches down into my eye brow.
I guess it developed as a result of my living in the skin cancer capitol of the world: sunny Arizona. Or perhaps itâ€™s because I was a teen of the 80â€™s when all that mattered to us was super tan skin and foundation makeup in a layer so thick you could scratch your name into it.
That jagged splotch-line? Itâ€™s now my Harry Potter lightening scar. It means I have special powers.
Now if I can just find some positive association to the other dark splotch that is surfacing above my lip.
Can you see it there? Iâ€™m thanking Mary Kay Cosmetics and their Even Complexion Essence for helping me to minimize this one because Iâ€™m having a bit of a harder time finding a reason to like a dark upper lip. Seriously. Of all places to get darker skin pigmentation as I age, did it really have to surface above my lip? Come onâ€¦
Some things just donâ€™t change.
2 years ago Today in 2008
I got together with some friends in the scrapbook industry who I met online. One was my girlfriend, Dedra, who lives near me but who introduced herself to me on the scrapbooking website, TwoPeasInABucket. The other was Lain Ehmann who worked for Simple Scrapbooks Magazine and was visiting my hometown to teach classes at the Creating Keepsakes Convention.
Today, April 20, 2010
I got together remotely with other friends in the scrapbook industry via skype to record an episode of the Paperclipping Roundtable. Two were Cathy Zielske and Ali Edwards, who for years I admired in Creating Keepsakes and Simple Scrapbooks Magazine, who are now a regular part of my audio show, but who I have yet to meet in person.
Another was Nancy Nally, who we all know from her news coverage of the scrapbook industry and who I got to meet in person at the Craft & Hobby Association trade show last summer when I met up with her and Lain and others to record a Paperclipping Newsbreak episode.
The fourth person was Izzy, who helped me build a business out of my scrapbooking hobby, who I know in â€œrealâ€ life, in the â€œonlineâ€ world, and in the biblical sense. 🙂
* * *
2 years ago Today in 2008
I talked about scrapbooking with Lain and Dedra â€” about our different methods and about the people we admire and learn from in the industry, both in the magazines and online.
Today, April 20, 2010
I talked about scrapbooking with Ali, Cathy, Nancy, and Izzy â€” about methods for integrating our personal internet content with our scrapbooking content.
* * *
2 years ago Today in 2008
I pulled out my camera. Dedra and Lain pulled out their cameras.
We found innovative ways to frame ourselves in the shots.
And we took lots of pictures being silly and having fun and bonding through this intersection of our online worlds, our “real” worlds, and the hobby we love of documenting our lives.
Today, April 20, 2010
I pulled out my camera and set it on a tripod.
Cathy and Ali had their cameras out and ready. And we took pictures of ourselves in headsets and in front of microphones, being silly and having fun and bonding while talking about the intersection of our online worlds and our real worlds and how we choose to (and in some cases, choose not to) document the parts of our lives that we share on the internet.
* * *
Later This Week
We will share the audio show with others like us who love to scrapbook and love to talk about scrapbooking. And theyâ€™ll have some very cool thoughts which theyâ€™ll share back with us on the Paperclipping blog. And some day Iâ€™ll get to meet some of those people as well.
Like I said, some things never change, except to grow bigger. Or maybe this is just what happens when you find a way to make a life doing the things you love.
* * *
Hugs to another online scrapbooky friend I’ve yet to meet in person — Stephanie Howell — from whom I learned to compare and contrast my past with my present by looking at my photos.