The little ones say good night each night, not wanting to let go of their mother's hand. Air mattresses fill the living room and parent and child find a heightened comfort with the other.
Today was to be a day of transition. Tonight was to be an evening of change. The children were guided to sleep in their own beds with mother sleeping in one room and close friend in the other. This was a step to the new normal.
Concern of adjustment coated much of the days conversation. Finding strength in being alone sided up within the consciousness. How would this evening be marked?
Making phone calls to in attempts to signify this occasion, I talked to Tim from Bed Bath and Beyond. The scenario was set and the direction was given.
Carrying four large bags, I arrive at the doorstep of this family home. The 5 year old tears into the first bag, grabs a green fleece throw and as he squeezes it, he exclaims, "Mom, look at this!" Still snuggling up against his new blanket, he then opens up the next bag and pulls out what would become *his* baby blue dolphin Pet Pillow. We go through the remainder of the bags - Pet Pillows, throws for each child, uber cool night lights that project pictures onto the ceiling and a "Flip" like video camera for the soon to be 16 year old.
My stay was not long. My own family awaited. Coming home, an email and picture awaited. The 5 year old clutching his new Pet Pillow. I immediately called Tim and thanked him for making this all happen. He arranged for all product to be donated.
Later, another email arrived:
All three are peacefully sleeping either lying on their pillow pet or hugging it. No crying - actually it was a very easy bedtime for everyone!
Thank you for listening to God today and blessing both me and my kids. I never dreamed the transition would be so easy tonight.
Successful transition
Thank you for listening.
Saturday, April 9, 2011
Thursday, April 7, 2011
Dedication
this is for a friend of mine. Today has been an outstanding day! There is no one like You!
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=zlA5IDnpGhc
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=zlA5IDnpGhc
Tuesday, April 5, 2011
I Refuse
I don't want to live like I don't care
I don't want to say another empty prayer
Oh, I refuse to sit around and wait for someone else
To do what God has called me to do myself
I could choose not to move
But I refuse
Music I am listening to
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=BbH0IWZL05s
I don't want to say another empty prayer
Oh, I refuse to sit around and wait for someone else
To do what God has called me to do myself
I could choose not to move
But I refuse
Music I am listening to
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=BbH0IWZL05s
Sunday, April 3, 2011
The Meeting
Our paths rarely crossed. Our language was different from the other. A wave of the hand at times was the best we could offer the other in seconds of passing. Our energies never synced and thought was hardly given to this platonic existence.
Her name was called out loud and I came running. A name called so loud, it has caught me, lifted me and I have not come down - wondering where I am to land in all of this.
Somebody's life force has taken me, guided me and I am following. My hands are open to grab hold. I am finding a new path to take. I am astounded at the newness of potential and possibility.
thanks for listening.
Her name was called out loud and I came running. A name called so loud, it has caught me, lifted me and I have not come down - wondering where I am to land in all of this.
Somebody's life force has taken me, guided me and I am following. My hands are open to grab hold. I am finding a new path to take. I am astounded at the newness of potential and possibility.
thanks for listening.
Tuesday, March 22, 2011
Attainment
At the end of the long day, she sat on the edge of an aluminum folding chair. Her surround, now the simplicity of family, cushioned the existence as if she were to fall. Watching her, sitting upon the pedestal with mother's hands upon her shoulders, sister’s hands resting upon her knees and close family friend caressing her hair, elicited finality to the event. Her body lifed and she made the rounds to say thank you to those staying to clean up from the 500 in attendance.
"Katie stop!" came the strong voice behind me earlier that morning. I turned, set down my box of materials and embraced this friend of mine. Emotions flooded in for the first time since hearing of her husbands passing just days prior; I had set in administrative mode and organized the food for this occasion. It was just she and I standing in this hall, quiet, silent and still the hour before the church was to be filled. She talked about her gratitude of the day and the many moments of her husband speaking to her through items found. The odd preparation that led to this day and this hour. Soon, we took to our separate paths. Within an hour, my soul would be rocked and stirred and humbled; more so than it already was.
I continued - setting in place the goal...feeding all who held special honor for this man, father, friend, pastor.
The church was packed and she told me to sit among the family. They were not a big family and there was plenty of room. I sat behind her 10 year old daughter and for the hour and a half service; my eyes rarely deviated from this woman. Captivated. Awestruck. Mesmerized.
She stood tall. She sang loudly to each celebratory and praising song. She held her hands up high, repeating, "Thank you, Lord. I love you Lord. Thank you."
Her 5 year old sat in her lap, eating his Teddy Graham crackers. Her 12 year old bit his nails and cried. Her 15 year old stood tall and strong like any assuming 'man of the house' should stand and her 10 year old daughter sat with a comforting arm around her.
Tears fell but her movement and moment was present in this experience. Her faith was unshaken. Her authenticity blended my insides and left me yearning for knowledge. My songs aligned with hers. I danced and swayed with the music. I absorbed a piece of her spirit and will carry with me her momentum of faith and resolve.
I live to attain her grace.
"Katie stop!" came the strong voice behind me earlier that morning. I turned, set down my box of materials and embraced this friend of mine. Emotions flooded in for the first time since hearing of her husbands passing just days prior; I had set in administrative mode and organized the food for this occasion. It was just she and I standing in this hall, quiet, silent and still the hour before the church was to be filled. She talked about her gratitude of the day and the many moments of her husband speaking to her through items found. The odd preparation that led to this day and this hour. Soon, we took to our separate paths. Within an hour, my soul would be rocked and stirred and humbled; more so than it already was.
I continued - setting in place the goal...feeding all who held special honor for this man, father, friend, pastor.
The church was packed and she told me to sit among the family. They were not a big family and there was plenty of room. I sat behind her 10 year old daughter and for the hour and a half service; my eyes rarely deviated from this woman. Captivated. Awestruck. Mesmerized.
She stood tall. She sang loudly to each celebratory and praising song. She held her hands up high, repeating, "Thank you, Lord. I love you Lord. Thank you."
Her 5 year old sat in her lap, eating his Teddy Graham crackers. Her 12 year old bit his nails and cried. Her 15 year old stood tall and strong like any assuming 'man of the house' should stand and her 10 year old daughter sat with a comforting arm around her.
Tears fell but her movement and moment was present in this experience. Her faith was unshaken. Her authenticity blended my insides and left me yearning for knowledge. My songs aligned with hers. I danced and swayed with the music. I absorbed a piece of her spirit and will carry with me her momentum of faith and resolve.
I live to attain her grace.
Saturday, March 12, 2011
10 Years
Two Avenson brothers share 10 years between them. Personally speaking, I think this is really cool! 10 years and 24 hours. Born a day apart. Last night, we had a duel bday party. We have done this for 2 years now and it is a perfect compliment to the two boys. We had family over for an evening of celebration and piano recital. I had decorated the table in bright colors and a basket of legos for each guest. I gave them each 5 minutes to build 'something' and then describe what you had just built. We ended up with a cornfield, a robot factory, Target Field/football stadium- with all inclusive concession stand, a station with uber cool sun shield, an idiot launcher, a BLUE bridge over River Kwai as well as others. Grandmas carrot cake complimented the evening.
These are all the lego creations
Thursday, February 24, 2011
Door Number 4
So, as always and ever so frequent and I am sure, tiresome; I am writing about motherhood again. My motherhood.
Today, on a drive home, I had a conversation with God. Was it really God, or was it a superimposed something or other that fed me the words I wanted to hear. Sometimes I really don't know. Regardless, it brought me to tears -- those tears that flow, followed by the ugly lump in the throat, where even tightening up the lips leave no affect.
Each second, millisecond, nano-second of my mothering existence is completely wrapped in the 'job' of parenting. Every word I say, every breath I take, every action i seize - noticed or not, is present in how my children are being raised.
Break: Sidney just walked up to me with his box of legos saying, "Momma, up." So, either this will have to wrap up soon, or i need to occupy him with something else.
The road I deliberately take with my children might not be the right one and that continually eats at my soul. Different roads are riddled with opportunities, consequences, risks, adventures and so forth.What road am I choosing to take?
So, this question greets me each morning before my feet hit the floor, "Katie, what road are you taking today? What will your children learn from you, how will they benefit or not from your influence"
My daughter does not know the first thing about sewing or quilting for even baking for that matter. My sons do not know how to milk a cow, work hard for their keep, or keep a clean room. Suffice to say, there are many aspects of their life they are missing; solely because as a parent, i have not introduced it to them. When someone asks them if they have read this classic book or that classic book and they say, 'No.' And I cringe. When someone says, "Oh, you should know all about this or that," and they don't, I cringe.
I am hard on myself - i know.
I am not sure if it is a matter of me getting up off my butt and choosing something different. I am not sure I would want that....or do i? Do I want to bake with my daughter? Do I want to bake with my sons? Do I want to learn how to sew or knot? hmmm.
Okay, enough said on that topic.
Conversation withGod. As I thought about my children and how they will be growing up under their parents' guidance, i thought what it might look like. God put me on the stage of "Let's Make a Deal" and the conversation/visuals followed. I was able to imagine how each individual child may turn out if I chose to do differently. Door Number 4 was my child -- my child that *I* raised and he/she was just perfect regardless of my flaws. Each of them stood as adults behind Door Number 4, waiting for me to pick the correct one.
This probably doesn't make sense to you, but it makes sense to me -- or at the very least, this is what I will cling to for a while. It was made clear to me that I want door number 4. I want my kids just they way they will be...raised by me....or for at least the next couple of hours (smile).
Maybe tomorrow for school, we will bake.
Today, on a drive home, I had a conversation with God. Was it really God, or was it a superimposed something or other that fed me the words I wanted to hear. Sometimes I really don't know. Regardless, it brought me to tears -- those tears that flow, followed by the ugly lump in the throat, where even tightening up the lips leave no affect.
Each second, millisecond, nano-second of my mothering existence is completely wrapped in the 'job' of parenting. Every word I say, every breath I take, every action i seize - noticed or not, is present in how my children are being raised.
Break: Sidney just walked up to me with his box of legos saying, "Momma, up." So, either this will have to wrap up soon, or i need to occupy him with something else.
The road I deliberately take with my children might not be the right one and that continually eats at my soul. Different roads are riddled with opportunities, consequences, risks, adventures and so forth.What road am I choosing to take?
So, this question greets me each morning before my feet hit the floor, "Katie, what road are you taking today? What will your children learn from you, how will they benefit or not from your influence"
My daughter does not know the first thing about sewing or quilting for even baking for that matter. My sons do not know how to milk a cow, work hard for their keep, or keep a clean room. Suffice to say, there are many aspects of their life they are missing; solely because as a parent, i have not introduced it to them. When someone asks them if they have read this classic book or that classic book and they say, 'No.' And I cringe. When someone says, "Oh, you should know all about this or that," and they don't, I cringe.
I am hard on myself - i know.
I am not sure if it is a matter of me getting up off my butt and choosing something different. I am not sure I would want that....or do i? Do I want to bake with my daughter? Do I want to bake with my sons? Do I want to learn how to sew or knot? hmmm.
Okay, enough said on that topic.
Conversation withGod. As I thought about my children and how they will be growing up under their parents' guidance, i thought what it might look like. God put me on the stage of "Let's Make a Deal" and the conversation/visuals followed. I was able to imagine how each individual child may turn out if I chose to do differently. Door Number 4 was my child -- my child that *I* raised and he/she was just perfect regardless of my flaws. Each of them stood as adults behind Door Number 4, waiting for me to pick the correct one.
This probably doesn't make sense to you, but it makes sense to me -- or at the very least, this is what I will cling to for a while. It was made clear to me that I want door number 4. I want my kids just they way they will be...raised by me....or for at least the next couple of hours (smile).
Maybe tomorrow for school, we will bake.
Saturday, February 12, 2011
Was I Just in Paris?
I am not sure where I have been or where I am going. I am unable to hold long conversations or for that matter, piece together coherent sentences. My heavy eyelids direct an attention to my bed, but with each passing exhale, I feel I am losing pieces of an experience that must be written down - for one day, I will be asking myself, "Was I in Paris?"
Friday morning >> up at 6:10am, get perry out of bed and spend the morning with him before his departure at 7:13. Get the others up and all are out the door for chess club by 7:45. Make final lists, pack up the suitcase (no, did not pack until Friday departure....but it was 'all in my head') and do final clean up job so house is picked up for Daddy. John and kids home by 9am. All get back into car to take me to the airport. 11am - US Airways Flight 700 departs. Adding in the layover, I arrived in Frankfurt at 6:30am Saturday morning (CET)...11:30pm central time. Nieces greeted me at the door at 7:30am and we were off to a fulfilling day of breakfast, basketball games, shopping in downtown Frankfurt, lunch, more basketball, dinner and Michael Jackson Wii dancing. My head hit the pillow at 11:00pm (CET time)....4pm Saturday central time. I had been up for 34 hours.
Sunday morning> up at 7:30 to make train out of Frankfurt by 9am. Erin had arranged first class tickets on train ride into Paris. 4 hours of talking and laughing. Arrive in Paris shortly after 1pm. Check in and hit the town: Musee d' Orsay, lunch, drinks, espresso, grande ferris wheel overlooking Paris, and scrumptious dinner. Back at hotel, we get to bed around 10:30. I am unable to fall asleep. At 2am, I am up and writing emails. by 4am, i am finally asleep.
Monday Morning > up early for breakfast. 10am, Erin has booked an appointment at a Moroccan Spa. We check in and we check out around 2pm. Relaxing. The remainder of the day is simple - leisurely walks around the streets of Paris. Time together, shopping, stopping for great food and drink, more shopping and walking. See all the great sites - but only in passing. Paris understood that it was 'sister time', so, it did not pressure us in anyway. Good people watching. The day goes by fast and we stop and another great restaurant for a late dinner. In bed by 11pm and I sleep the entire night.
Tuesday Morning > up by 8am. out the door and check out of our hotel room. Leave bags to pick up later. Breakfast, and more walking around. Enjoying the company of the other. Lots of shops, lots of espresso. We spend the day on the town and are back at the train station by 6:30 to catch the 7pm train back to Frankfurt. 12:00 arrival back home
Wednesday >> up at 6:30am to see the girls off to school. Enjoy breakfast with them, give them big hugs and kisses and wave good bye as they board the bus. 9:00, Erin and I are out the door to the airport. Plane departs shortly before 12pm. On the plane, traveling through time. Arrive by 9pm ( 4am CET time) and back in my own bed by 11pm that evening.
Was I really just in Paris?
Friday morning >> up at 6:10am, get perry out of bed and spend the morning with him before his departure at 7:13. Get the others up and all are out the door for chess club by 7:45. Make final lists, pack up the suitcase (no, did not pack until Friday departure....but it was 'all in my head') and do final clean up job so house is picked up for Daddy. John and kids home by 9am. All get back into car to take me to the airport. 11am - US Airways Flight 700 departs. Adding in the layover, I arrived in Frankfurt at 6:30am Saturday morning (CET)...11:30pm central time. Nieces greeted me at the door at 7:30am and we were off to a fulfilling day of breakfast, basketball games, shopping in downtown Frankfurt, lunch, more basketball, dinner and Michael Jackson Wii dancing. My head hit the pillow at 11:00pm (CET time)....4pm Saturday central time. I had been up for 34 hours.
Sunday morning> up at 7:30 to make train out of Frankfurt by 9am. Erin had arranged first class tickets on train ride into Paris. 4 hours of talking and laughing. Arrive in Paris shortly after 1pm. Check in and hit the town: Musee d' Orsay, lunch, drinks, espresso, grande ferris wheel overlooking Paris, and scrumptious dinner. Back at hotel, we get to bed around 10:30. I am unable to fall asleep. At 2am, I am up and writing emails. by 4am, i am finally asleep.
Monday Morning > up early for breakfast. 10am, Erin has booked an appointment at a Moroccan Spa. We check in and we check out around 2pm. Relaxing. The remainder of the day is simple - leisurely walks around the streets of Paris. Time together, shopping, stopping for great food and drink, more shopping and walking. See all the great sites - but only in passing. Paris understood that it was 'sister time', so, it did not pressure us in anyway. Good people watching. The day goes by fast and we stop and another great restaurant for a late dinner. In bed by 11pm and I sleep the entire night.
Tuesday Morning > up by 8am. out the door and check out of our hotel room. Leave bags to pick up later. Breakfast, and more walking around. Enjoying the company of the other. Lots of shops, lots of espresso. We spend the day on the town and are back at the train station by 6:30 to catch the 7pm train back to Frankfurt. 12:00 arrival back home
Wednesday >> up at 6:30am to see the girls off to school. Enjoy breakfast with them, give them big hugs and kisses and wave good bye as they board the bus. 9:00, Erin and I are out the door to the airport. Plane departs shortly before 12pm. On the plane, traveling through time. Arrive by 9pm ( 4am CET time) and back in my own bed by 11pm that evening.
Was I really just in Paris?
Tuesday, February 1, 2011
What Does It Mean to be Free
Today is National Freedom Day. I am sure that Hallmark has a card for this somewhere in their collection. Presently, it is Daybook time; i have scaled way down on this, even though it is one of my favorite times. The kids have been prompted to write "What does it mean to you to be free?" It will be interesting to hear their answers. Lucy, who is the most hesitant at writing - simply because I think writing requires a creative and imaginative exploration that she finds hard to grasp. I cant say that she is always black and white in her thinking, but often ties she is. I look over and she is slowly making her letters form. There might be tears soon.
So, what does it mean to be free? For me, the answer is simple and because it is simple - I feel I take my freedom for granted - just as I do my sight, my sense of smell and the fact that there will always be food at the near by grocery store. I think it is hard to teach freedom when you have always had it. I feel it is hard to know lack of freedom when you have been born with this silver spoon in your mouth.
I do wish that and I do hope that one day, I can choose to be apart of a greater world. I continuously fight with this --- my household day to day, my kids, my white collar husband, my functional family. The ground is solid and yet, i find time to dwell and complain about it. But again, i know no different. I can read, listen, discuss, hypothesize - but can you really enjoy the taste of an orange by doing all of the above? no, you have to taste it.
What does it mean to be free? take a look around...... voting, McDonalds (although we never eat fast food), debates, parades, protests, electricity, Internet, technology, transportation, food, etc, etc. And yet, we are a culture of whiners and complainers and I never have enough time-ers. David Letterman, Jon Stewart, Monday trash day, church on Sunday....on and on and on. what does it mean not to be free? An easy response it to take all those away.....but honestly, I don't know.
Thanks for listening. Time is up.
So, what does it mean to be free? For me, the answer is simple and because it is simple - I feel I take my freedom for granted - just as I do my sight, my sense of smell and the fact that there will always be food at the near by grocery store. I think it is hard to teach freedom when you have always had it. I feel it is hard to know lack of freedom when you have been born with this silver spoon in your mouth.
I do wish that and I do hope that one day, I can choose to be apart of a greater world. I continuously fight with this --- my household day to day, my kids, my white collar husband, my functional family. The ground is solid and yet, i find time to dwell and complain about it. But again, i know no different. I can read, listen, discuss, hypothesize - but can you really enjoy the taste of an orange by doing all of the above? no, you have to taste it.
What does it mean to be free? take a look around...... voting, McDonalds (although we never eat fast food), debates, parades, protests, electricity, Internet, technology, transportation, food, etc, etc. And yet, we are a culture of whiners and complainers and I never have enough time-ers. David Letterman, Jon Stewart, Monday trash day, church on Sunday....on and on and on. what does it mean not to be free? An easy response it to take all those away.....but honestly, I don't know.
Thanks for listening. Time is up.
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