favorite thing friday: berenstain bears

Books. Books. Books.  We love books.

In every room, we have bookshelves and baskets overflowing with books.

Many years ago, when I was more disciplined about writing on Fridays about one of our Favorite Things, I had intended to write about the Berenstain Bear books. But for whatever reason, I haven't written about these books yet despite the fact that they are among one of the absolute favorite things in our entire house.

And perhaps on the planet.

When the triplets were around three-years-old, my sister Beth shipped us the entire collection of Berenstain Bear books that she had previously bought for her son (my nephew), Michael.  Beth tends to do things like that ... ship us amazing things that Michael has outgrown. Like the entire collection of Berenstain Bear books. And the entire collection of Dr. Seuss children's books. And the entire collection of the Magic Tree House books. And the entire collection of the Hardy Boys books. And the entire collection of  Curious George books. And nearly every Lego complete character set (Harry Potter, Spiderman, Batman, Star Wars) that has ever been created.

Did I mention before that my sister Beth was generous?

I don't actually think "generous" is a strong enough word.

So we received this big box full of Berenstain Bear books when the triplets were toddlers and they have loved them every single day since.  Loved them so much that several of the books have lost covers...



However, thanks be to the power of 3M packaging tape ...



I've been able to affix most of those covers back on.



Presto! Good as new.



When I was the Girl Scout leader, I would read one of the Berenstain Bear books during each and every meeting because for whatever topic we would be covering in Scouts - there was surely to be a Berenstain Bear book that was applicable to that same topic.

For example... the importance of diversity and inclusion?



The importance of restraint?

 

The importance of helping out?



The importance of doing your homework?



Oh how we love these books. We've read about welcoming members to the family...



And bullying ...



And the responsibility of pets ...



And what it means to be neighborly ...



And what it means to fit in ...



And what it means to be polite...



And what it means to apologize ...



And what it means to Do The Right Thing.



But I think my favorite Berenstain Book of all time is the book about the Messy Room.



Every time I read one of these books I'm always so impressed with Mama Bear's gentle demeanor.  She's got it totally going on in an awesome Mama Bear kind of way.  And well, it might sound kind of dumb but I always feel like Mama Bear is the gold standard for what Mamas everywhere should be and many days I feel like I'm so, so, so very far from that gold standard.  I'm not even a copper standard.

Maybe tin.  Or aluminum.

So imagine my TOTAL DELIGHT when I read this book and watch Mama Bear have a thorough meltdown.  You ready? It's perfection...

In a nutshell, Brother and Sister Bear share a room and they are bickering about cleaning up their messy room. As you can see from the expression on Mama Bear's face, she doesn't like this scene one little bit.



So while her cubs bicker, Mama Bear does what most Mama's might do ... she decides that if anything is going to get done, SHE NEEDS TO DO IT HERSELF.  Enter the grimace and expression that says, "I've done this 1,000,000,000,000,000 times already and it wouldn't surprise me at all if I continue do this every day until the day I die."



Oh, but then she yanks a muscle and steps in a wad of ... silly putty? gum? chemical experiment? And SNAP. She marches out the door while Brother and Sister Bear are oblivious to what is coming next...

ENTER ... the box. 

Roh, roh! 



Commence Mega Purge! I'm not sure what happened to the goo on her foot or aching back, but Mama Bear suddenly has limitless strength and speed as she starts flipping damn near everything ON the floor IN TO that box. You have no idea how much I love everything about this picture.  The looks of horror on the little bears' faces ... the look of determination on Mama Bear's face ... the arc and blur of things flying in to the box. She's got nine things AIR BORNE all at once.

Rock on, Mama Bear!



Of course with that kind of "cleaning" effort, it's no surprise that the children scream so loudly that Papa Bear, who is outside hears the commotion and has to come inside and inject himself in to the situation. He's playing the Good Cop to his wife's Crazy Cop.  That's only happened 1 or maybe 2 as in HUNDRED times at our house.



In the end, Papa Bear swings in to action and helps build boxes, shelves and a peg board that the bears will use for organization.



And Mama Bear introduces her cubs to color coded boxes and a label maker.



Soon, the room is perfectly organized and every one lives happily ever after.  Wouldn't you know, that's exactly what it's like around here, too.  (For at least 20 or 30 minutes.)

treasures of creativity

For someone like me, who is the anti-hoarder, I'm having a very difficult time clearing out some of the adorable crafts our children create.



I've always prided myself on my ability to clear out the clutter and to that end, purchased four bins (one for each of the children) that are intended to preserve those select items that are worthy to be saved. The trouble is: the tubs are now almost full and we're not even through second grade. Perhaps my definition of "select" needs to be tightened up a bit.  Here's an example of a recent creation Henry brought home recently .... it's his little baby dinosaur that he created in preschool:  



He loves this little figure that is comprised of two popsicle sticks, a wine cork, and googly eyes. It's SO CUTE!  And unlike a large number of things that I don't think twice about tossing (when the kids are looking the other way of course), there's no way I could ever throw this dinosaur out.  (Elizabeth's wild assortment of random cardboard boxes in another story altogether.)   But should Henry's dinosaur break or be left outside, or chomped upon by the dog before it is deposited in the holy grail bin repository of childhood treasures, I feel good knowing that I at least have a picture of it.

Please note: If random photos of art projects start showing up on my blog - now you can better understand why.  To illustrate:



This is a hinge that William affixed, all by himself, with tools!  It was such a proud accomplishment. But, you know .... I'm not 100% sure there is room for it in the bin.

... and this one's for aunt alice

My father's younger sister, Alice, passed away last Tuesday.  This is the candle that I lit for my Aunt Alice and her children, my cousins Candy and Scott, yesterday at church:



Aunt Alice had been struggling with Alzheimer's for the past few years and while I don't really know much about the disease, I do understand the devastating effects that it has on both the patient and those who love them.  I've witnessed several of my dear friends lose their parents to this degenerative disease over the past few years and it is heart wrenching.  While I didn't see my Aunt Alice much when I was growing up, except when we'd drive through Virginia on our road trips to and from South Carolina and Massachusetts, oddly enough, I now live less than five miles from where she raised her family. When I drive to work, I pass baseball fields that I'm certain are the same fields where my little cousins played and were captured in the photographs Aunt Alice would always include in her Christmas cards.

With Aunt Alice's passing comes to me the reminder yet again:  Life is short. Life is precious. Have an adventure and make memories whenever possible. Even if it means spontaneously busting out a dance move with your family in the middle of cooking dinner. Do your best to be a beacon of joy in this world.  Smile more than you scowl.

And whatever you do ... don't forget to tell those that you love just how much you appreciate them.

this one's for uncle fred

This picture - that I snapped off at church yesterday and tried to post on Twitter never went through. And now that I've uploaded it to my computer and it's no longer on my phone - I have no idea how to post it to Twitter because I'm technically challenged.  

Jodie and Michele ... this candle was specifically lit for Uncle Fred:



As a scientist, I know that energy can neither be created nor destroyed. So it is my most heartfelt prayer that you always feel his loving energy surround you. Cancer is a terrible, terrible thing.  We've lost far too many people to that awful dreaded disease over the past few years and I pray with every fiber of my being that in my life time, we find a cure.  I also pray that it lifts your hearts to know that a family you've never met is holding you so tightly in theirs.  How blessed and lucky you were to have Fred - and how blessed and lucky he was to have you.

Michele. DC in October. You can do it.  I'll even help push you up the hills.

springing forward at warp speed

We've had a very busy go - go - go weekend.  Frighteningly, we didn't even do all the things that we were supposed to do. We missed William's first lacrosse practice this afternoon and we ditched swim team tonight. We probably could have made both events - but last night, I decided I'm allergic to being too busy. I break out in hives and hyperventilate.

Here's an overview of what we've had on our docket this week end and these very well may be writing prompts for the next week because each event deserves it's own post:

Friday night the children had a dance at their elementary school.  I took the triplets while Charlie stayed home with Henry because: 1) Henry would most likely run around the dance floor with one arm outstretched pretending he was Superman and until he morphs in to Hulk SMASH and yes, yes, this is the price we're now paying for everyone getting sick at once and Henry watching every Superhero movie in our arsenal; and 2) Charlie was hosting the first annual ping pong tournament for at least a dozen men from our neighborhood later that night so he had to get ready.

(Set up new ping pong net? Check.

Turn on music? Check.

Put beer on ice? Check.

And .... ready!)

Saturday morning the temperatures were in the low 60's and it was a gorgeously perfect day. We had days like that all. the. time when we lived in San Diego, but I don't think we appreciated them very much because they were like that all. the. time. So when you live in an environment where you don't have a day like that for several months and then you do - you tend to blow off your domestic responsibilities like say, cleaning the toilets and instead opt to take your children and a picnic lunch to a lovely little park.



Saturday afternoon, I took Carolyn to the Girl Scout's annual "Thinking Day."  Why only Carolyn? Because Elizabeth had a temper tantrum (drama anyone?) and I decided that Saturday, being the gorgeously perfect day that it was, was also a zero tolerance day for me listening to incessant whining and bickering and The End.  So Elizabeth went home from the park with her father while an abundantly joyful Carolyn and I traipsed off to Scouts.



Saturday late afternoon / early evening, William and a much more pleasant Elizabeth had a dress rehearsal for their Odyssey of the Mind tournament which is next weekend.  The whole family spent three hours at the coach's house finalizing their set design and practicing their skits.

We came home.

We brushed teeth.

We put on pajamas.

We turned clocks forward one hour.

We went to sleep.

Sunday morning, we scrambled out the door to church and the reason it felt we were a whole hour late, is because we actually were having lost an hour to Day Light Savings time.  (Why? Why must we allow the torture of Day Light Savings time to continue in the modern age?) We usually go on Saturday night but preparation for the OM tournament next week was critical.  We returned home from church - wrapped presents and flew out the door to a birthday party for a child from the triplets' class.  The party was held at a local Laser Tag center and while I've been to several laser tag birthday parties over the past two years - this is the first time I've played, too.

OK, so my birthday is next month and I've decided that I want to have a laser tag party.  It was so much fun. SO MUCH FUN.  I've already come up with my invitation:

"Zap! Zap! Jenny is turning 42 ...  let's play laser tag the whole day through!" 

Although I didn't play in the first round, when the parents who were hanging around chatting saw that our little eight-year-olds were getting waxed by a group of older kids on an opposing team - all of the parents suited up for the second round of play.  My game name was "Mars" and I was doing great until last five minutes of the game when I was cornered by a bunch of kindergartners from a second opposing team and they were relentless.  They were following me around and whenever I'd finally be charged and ready to shoot - they'd zap me again then they'd laugh in a cackling little laugh. Fortunately, the game ended before I was able to blurt out, "LEAVE ME ALONE OR I'LL TELL YOU THE TRUTH ABOUT SANTA CLAUSE YOU LITTLE MUNCHKINS!!!"



Sunday late afternoon / early evening, we had the Blue and Gold Banquet for our Cub Scout pack.  This banquet is held every year in February or March and is to honor the birthday of Scouting and to recognize the boys who are bridging from Cub Scouts to Boy Scouts.  It was a wonderful event. There was a huge potluck and a professional magician who kept us entertained. (He handed Carolyn one small sponge and told her to make a fist. When she opened her hand after the wave of his wand, there were FOUR. How? HOW?!)





We also watched the ritual where the boys who are midway through their fifth grade year - have their Webelo scarf removed by their Cub Scout Den Leader, before they ceremoniously walk across a small bridge and are greeted by the young men leaders of their new Boy Scout troop.







Watching this bridging ceremony honestly made me weep.  Considering I didn't even know any of the boys, it makes me worry what kind of wailing basket case I'm going to be when my itty baby crosses over that bridge.  I've got three years.  Which might seem like a long time, but I know it will fly by.

These photos were taken yesterday...







And these photos FEEL like they were taken last week.







Time is going so fast ...





.... I'm really doing my best to savor the moments, now.

the ingredients for a perfect day

Just add one snow storm...



Icy roads that trigger schools and office buildings to remain closed ...



Dozens of muffins baked for our elderly house-bound neighbors ...



Clearing out the fridge and simmering various ingredients in to a spaghetti sauce for six hours ...



Fresh baked bread ...



Hours of board games played while sitting in front of a roaring fire ...



Sipping homemade hot chocolate while gazing at the beauty of winter ...



Topped off with early bedtimes for all. We could probably unplug in this exact same way on any given weekend - but there's something extraordinarily special about being forced to unplug in the middle of what was supposed to be a very busy week.  What an awesome gift this storm was for our spirits!



Yesterday was everything that a snow day should be.  Except the 8+ inches of snow we received was more of a slush that soaked our children to the core, but I'm not complaining because they weren't complaining. Which was remarkable to me because they were honestly drenched...



And yet still loving every minute of it.

winter storm advisory (aka: music to our ears)

After another mild winter, we thought our chances of snow this year were nil. Especially since the temperatures have been steadily climbing and the daffodils are starting to pop up.



But apparently, at this very moment, there is a storm bearing down on the east coast and according to news reports, tomorrow we will see an accumulation of 4-8 inches of snow in these parts.



By the weekend, however, the temperatures are expected to be in the high 50's so whatever snow falls most likely won't stick around for long.



In anticipation of this great event, the children have crafted "LET IT SNOW!" fliers that they hung all around the house, tonight.



They also flushed ice cubes down the toilet and went to bed wearing their pajamas backwards.  (These specific activities have been shown to raise the odds of snow in certain superstitious circles.)

They're pretty excited.



But not nearly as excited as Charlie and I. We're planning to wear our snowsuits to bed so that in the morning when we wake up and see a world of white, we won't waste any precious time getting outside.



So, anyway. No pressure, Mother Nature. Although, if you could help the weather channel get this one right, that would be super swell.  They're starting to lose a bit of credibility.

march forth

Today is March 4th. As my mother says, "It is the only day of the year that gives a command: March Forth."  Today is also my sister Beth's birthday.



Because I'm still in disbelief that it is already March (uh, what happened to February?) I neglected to get my sister a card.  So I thought I'd take a quick moment and capture, here, what I doubt anything from Hallmark could appropriately convey.

Beth is 10 years older than me and is one of the most important figures in my world. Whenever people tell me how hard I work - or how generous I am - I always think of Beth. So much of who I am and what I am is because of the influence from my big sister.  In my almost 42 years, I've never met anyone that works harder.  Nor have I met anyone who would give you (for keeps), the couch from their living room, the table from their dining room, or the car from their garage. I know of no one who would without question or hesitation, open their doors to you - your friends - or your family.

Like my sister, Beth. 

My sister is both an inspiration and an exhaustion because I could never keep up with her energy and generosity, although I've certainly tried. She is a chemist and a pharmacist and an attorney. Although she was in her 20's and just starting out, when she won a jackpot from a local radio station my freshman year in college, she donated every penny to my textbook fund.  She also enrolled me in the Pepperidge Farm monthly gift club which allowed me to become one of the most popular girls in my dorm.

(Cookies at 2AM anyone?) 

(How about 40 pounds of Goldfish?)

Beth is extremely loyal and has taken in several members of our family, sometimes for months on end, who were in dire straights. When I was flunking out of math in high school and was at risk for slipping two years behind in my curriculum, Beth enrolled me in summer school and would work with me - every single night - on homework. In the end, I mastered algebra and landed one of the highest grades in my summer school class.   I credit my sister with teaching me that in the world of academia, you can accomplish anything you put your mind to and even a few things you might never thought possible.

And while the past few years of caring for my father (and trying to cooperatively interface with a family that can be a tad bit challenging at times) have been draining,  Beth has remained strong. What I most admire about my sister, is that she genuinely cares. Despite the circumstances - or familial history - she tries to be helpful and do the right thing for those whom she loves.  And for as long as I've known her, she's never been nothing but wonderful to me.

Happy Birthday, MCLB.  March forth in your awesomeness.  I love you more than frozen Reese's miniature peanut butter cups and Bruce Willis movies, combined.

the onset of mad

When your mind is consumed with something - you have a heightened sense of awareness to notice and see that something everywhere. For example, when I was anxious to have a baby, it seemed pregnant women and infants were coming out of the woodwork.  While I've been debating whether or not to color my hair, I'm noticing similarly-aged women who are confidently embracing their gray wherever I turn.

Recently, I've also been acutely aware of articles written by professional women (with variable colors of hair) who have eloquently recounted the extreme challenges of successfully balancing career and motherhood.  These articles have been an interesting insight for me and have helped me realize I'm definitely not alone with the ongoing struggles I've faced trying to strike a healthy work-life balance since I've become a mother. One thing I've certainly noticed is that ever since I've lived in the outskirts of Washington, D.C. and have worked in a corporate setting, I feel so much more guilt that I'm not the best mother or best employee I know I could be.  But the only way I could be those things is if was given more latitude and unfortunately, the degree of latitude I require has been lacking in my corporate America experience.

What I've come to realize is that the best way to obtain flexibility is to be discreet. This has been extremely difficult for me since I'm open and honest to a fault (Exhibit A: this blog).  If you're overly vocal about the fact that you need to attend a parent-teacher conference one afternoon and take a child to a podiatrist about an abscess on her foot the next day (and for the next three consecutive Fridays for follow-up visits), it will raise eyebrows. People will suspect you are not fully engaged or dependable. And even if they don't openly express that, you have a feeling. So instead, you don't even mention that you need to take a two hour lunch to accomplish these activities. You know you are a professional who will get your work accomplished and meet any and all necessary deadlines, so why is it that you feel like a piece of inventory that belongs to a company between a set number of hours each day?

If you're not there during those set hours - even if you're accomplishing your work at other times, there is guilt. And if you are there but have to leave at exactly 5 to be home in time for Girl Scouts, there is guilt. And if you're not feeling guilty about work, chances are you're feeling guilty about your home life and something you should be doing there.  When I look around at the fathers in my work circles, not a one seem fazed by these competing priorities. But the mothers? They all seem run ragged, even those who are better than the norm at disguising how well they've got it "under control." This morning, I read this quote by Gloria Steinem in The Washington Post and it has been resonating with me all day:

My generation often accepted the idea that the private/public roles of women and men were "natural." Your generation has made giant strides into public life, but often still says: How can I combine career and family?  I say to you from the bottom of my heart that when you ask that question, you are setting your sights way too low. First of all, there can be no answer until men are asking the same question.  Second, every other modern democracy in the world is way, way ahead of this country in providing a national system of child care and job patterns adapted to the needs of parents, both men and women. So don't get guilty. Get mad. Get active. If this is a problem that affects millions of unique women, then the only answer is to organize.

I'm not exactly sure what organizing looks like, per se.  But I do know that when my organization recently reached out and asked it's personnel about our opinion on how well they were incorporating diversity and inclusion in the workforce, I didn't hold back and gave my company failing grades.  The fact that less than 10% of our current management team is comprised of women (three women total) - and only one of those women is a mother - would indicate that the potential for upward career growth and mobility on a management track is extremely low for a woman in our organization. And lower even still, if that woman decides to have children.

My employer is a big one and I would think indicative of Corporate America.  So why are those statistics for women in management so low? Is it because that the oil and gas sector really is a good old boy club and the glass ceiling is real?  Or is it because of the sacrifices that most women are not willing to make to reach those higher levels?  I suspect it's some combination thereof.

I've never wanted to be a manager. But I'm beginning to rethink that position. Maybe management is the proper career trajectory if I'm going to continue in my career and have any hope that women be provided the same opportunities as men. The way I see it, only with a diverse and inclusive management that genuinely understand the criticality of work-life balance, will those needs ever be sincerely considered.  

Then again, there's that scenario where I resign completely from the work force and we move to Vermont to raise sheep and homeschool our children because we're nothing if not unsettled.

checkmate

One day a week, the children participate in their school's "Chess Club." For one hour, they play with their peers and receive instruction from a Chess Master.  Suffice it to say, the kids have become quite good.  This little one has been at the very top of the second grade Chess Ladder for the past several weeks....



And in this photo, she has just schooled her father.