A friend of mine has taken it upon herself to begin writing, illustrating, photographing and even publishing some very cool children's books. The first one is now out and available at Amazon. The writer's name is Megan Hirsch and you can see her website HERE. The first book in the series is calledHow to Hold a Pencil, and it's a wonderfully designed, fun little book that I feel certain young children will enjoy. I also imagine children with developmental disabilities, autism and/or fine motor issues might benefit from this book. Megan plans on doing a whole series, and I look forward to each one!
I have one copy to give away, so please leave a comment if you'd like it, and I will pick a name randomly on Friday, December 11th.
I clicked over to Deb's blog Talk at the Table and was overwhelmed. Each day of this month, through the Feast of Epiphany on January 6th, she is sharing a journey of intentional Hope for Advent. Look for this star if you click over to her blog.
As I go through my day today, and hopefully onward, I hope to incorporate some of the things she is doing and suggesting in an attempt to shape and feel and keep the true meaning of Christmas and this season. I hope that you might as well.
On my way to the boys' school this morning, it was raining! Raining! Finally, it's raining, a beautiful, soft and gray rain. For those of you who live in rainy climes, I know this is nothing to get excited about, but for those of us who live in the perpetual 70 degrees and sunny, well, we lift up our faces and let it wash down. I had to be at the boys' school early this morning. As room parent for Oliver, my third grader's class, I had to collect a single flower and handmade card that each student was bringing in to celebrate the teacher aide's birthday. I brought along a vase, and while we scurried through the rain to the school, Oliver held it out in front of him, his yellow daisies he'd picked from our garden bobbing. He had his hood up and I walked just behind him, but close enough to see his upturned profile. I wish that I had taken a picture such was his simple happiness. His mouth was upturned in a huge smile and his arms with the vase of flowers reached straight out into the rain.
What are you doing, Oliver? Henry asked in a big-brother, scornful way.
I'm catching the rain! It's so good for the flowers! Oliver cried out. And something about his profile, his two big front teeth smiling, those outstretched arms and the vase of golden flowers made me want to cry out in gratitude.
For the Carol of the Day, I'll post Away in a Manger, sung by Alison Krauss and Mindy Smith. It sounds childlike to me, in keeping with my morning and my memory of singing this song with my preschool class in a pageant long ago.
Without even realizing it, my blog hit the 50,000 hit mark this week. I just can't believe that within one year, that many people pushed the button and clicked on my little blog. It seems fitting during this waiting period of advent to express my thanks for all the support I've gotten this past year from each of you. Blogging is one part addiction but three parts grace. I mean that. While it has consumed me, periodically, it has also given me new friends, new ideas, spiritual support, encouragement, laughter and even literal gifts.
My community has expanded tenfold and I can honestly say that above all, the isolation I felt in that very special world of raising a child with disabilities is completely gone.Completely! Can you even begin to understand how profound that is?
Writing almost daily in this blog has also sparked that deepest, most essential creative spirit within. I feel as if the muscle, so necessary to exercise in order to write, has grown stronger, more limber, more expressive.
And while writing is also a necessity to me, something that I'd do lonely and cooped up in my room, in front of this screen, having you as the "audience" has been invaluable. Thank you.
And now, before I really start to wax silly, I'll sign off with today's Carol of the Day. I went to an Episcopal prep school and every Christmas the choir did Lessons and Carols. The first carol always began with one soprano in the back of the darkened church singing this. It still sends chills up my spine.
The morning dawns not with the sun but with the steady, dull blink of the blue alarm clock.
Your hair looks funny, he says, digging his two front teeth into an orange wedge.
They're here! he shouts when the guy who drives the carpool pulls up.
He scrambles to unwrap a chocolate kiss from the advent calendar while pushing his folder into his bag.
They run out the door yelling good-bye!
I sit with her in her room as she goes over, once, twice, three, seventy-five times, the same thing over and over each morning not like a blink but more like the sunrise, inexorable in its regularity.
When I can't look anymore, when my patience wears thin and I would rather push the day back and down back into darkness I rise and walk away from her and through the house, stepping over the trail and detritus of normalcy. The tiny playmobil sword, the errant sock in the doorway, the plastic boxers askew on the dining room table, exhausted from the bout, the air they breathe.
to post this but more ridiculous to not post this. Who can resist the buttery voice, even when it comes out of an elevator sound system? I certainly can't, and listening to this carol always makes me think of my early childhood and my parents and our generous, magical Christmases.
My friend over at Criticlasm reminded me of this British World War II motto.
What with the math homework (fractions!), the reading plot flow homework, the seizures, the seizures, the seizures, I'm thinking tonight that what I really want for Christmas is this saying micro chipped into my brain.
In keeping with my one year old tradition, I'll be posting a Carol a Day during the month of December (with all my apologies to all those who can't abide the season). Unfortunately, I am unable to post the inimitable Tom Jones dancing to Winter Wonderland this year due to some sort of copyright infringement. Dang -- it was really sensational. But Glen Campbell might fit the bill to inaugurate this august blog tradition.
My memories of Glen Campbell include dancing to him with my mother when I came home from kindergarten. She would put on Galveston and we'd dance while eating graham crackers with cream cheese and jelly. Here he is singing Pretty Paper.
One of the people who commented on my posting over atLA Moms Blog brought up the biblical Acts of the Apostles and the term simony. I have found it immensely clarifying and thought you might, too.
Simony is the ecclesiastical crime of paying for holy offices or positions in the hierarchy of a church, named after Simon Magus, who appears in the Acts of the Apostles 8:18-24. Simon Magus offers the disciples of Jesus, Peter and John payment so that anyone he would place his hands on would receive the power of the Holy Spirit. This is the origin of the term simony[1] but it also extends to other forms of trafficking for money in "spiritual things".[2][3] Simony was also one of the important issues during the Investiture Controversy.
The great Italian poet Dante Alighieri consigned simonists to the eighth circle of hell. In the above copy of a wood engraving by Gustave Dore, Dante visits Pope Nicholas III, who has been buried upside-down in the inferno for committing simony.
Aside from Monday, when the kids go back to school after a usually frenzied weekend of sports and church and wild careening around the house, Saturday is my favorite day of the week. And lest you think I'm one of those mothers who relishes the constant company of her children, the reason I love Saturdays is because I have a babysitter who comes at 9 am and leaves at 5 pm. She is a wonderful woman whose job is to mainly watch my daughter Sophie who, while fourteen years old, is severely disabled with seizures and developmental disabilities. Having a babysitter all day enables me to not only take the boys to their various sports activities but to go to the grocery store, run errands and even get away by myself for a bit.
So, when M called me this afternoon and haltingly started to say, Um, Elizabeth, I was wondering if..., my heart sank because I knew what was coming. I have tickets tomorrow to see a show in and it's the first time I can go and I've always wanted to go and everyone in my family is going and I just wondered if you would mind if I went and didn't come to work, she said all in one breath. What kind of show? I wondered aloud, even though I knew that of course, I'd say it was all right that I would be fine and to have a good time.
Don't forget to enter my Black Friday Giveaway by tomorrow. I'm giving away a free poster sized print of your choice, courtesy of Online PosterPrinting.com. To enter go HEREand write a comment on how you'd use the poster. I'll be picking a name from a hat on December 1st.
