A Taste of Heaven

I've been thinking a lot about heaven recently because I've been reading a book that my aunts Carol and Donna recommended when I posted an entry about my fear of death. The book is Heaven, by Randy Alcorn, and it's really making me long for heaven.

For a few short minutes today at church, I felt almost as if I were in heaven already. We sang a song that absolutely thrills my heart, "Our Great God," by Fernando Ortega and Mac Powell. I love the song so much that I'm going to download it.

Here are the words:

Eternal God, Unchanging, Mysterious and unknown.
Your boundless love unfailing, In grace and mercy shown.
Bright seraphim in endless flight around your glorious throne.
They raise their voices day and night in praise to you alone.

Hallelujah! Glory be to our great God!
Hallelujah! Glory be to our great God!

Lord, We are weak and frail, Helpless in the storm.
Surround us with your angels, Hold us in your arms.
Our cold and ruthless enemy, His pleasure is our harm.
Rise up, O Lord, And he will flee before our Sovereign God.

Hallelujah! Glory be to our great God!
Hallelujah! Glory be to our great God!

Let every creature in the sea and every flying bird;
Let every mountain, Every field and valley of the earth;
Let all the moons and all the stars in all the universe
Sing praises to the Living God, Who rules them by His word.

Hallelujah! Glory be to our great God!
Hallelujah! Glory be to our great God!

The first verse made me think of heaven, and that unfathomable moment when I will first behold the face of our eternal, mysterious God--when I will know Him and be known.

The third verse gave me chills, and tears streamed down my cheeks as I sang, my hands raised up to the Living God. It was if I were all alone with God, and yet intimately connected with every other living creature, part of the universe's joyous chorus of praise.

I can praise God anywhere, and some of my favorite times of worship occur when I'm out on my bike and surrounded by the beauty of creation. But there's something so special about praising God in church with fellow believers.

Next, we sang "How Great Thou Art," and I felt my heart would burst when I sang, "Then sings my soul...." I had to put my hand on my heart--where I imagine my soul must be. The woman next to me must have been feeling the same thing. She was patting her heart and sobbing audibly. After the service, I gave her a hug and told her how much I enjoyed worshiping with her.

Can you imagine what it will be like when we are all worshiping God face to face, with people from every nation and every age in history? In the meantime, I'm so thankful for moments like these when we can experience just a fraction of the joy that awaits us in heaven.

I Wasn't Trained for This!

Something's up with my kids this week. They can't get along with each other. With their nine-year age difference, I never expected them to argue, but they do. Allyson has learned to push Ethan's buttons, and he makes no attempt to rein in his temper.

For example, one day they were swinging in the backyard together after school, and I basked in the warm feelings of their sibling bond while I cooked dinner. Suddenly, Ethan's shrill, prepubescent shrieks shattered the peace. I raced outside to see if he might have been attacked by bees.

Ethan was obviously in no pain, just furious. "She's using my middle name! Make her stop!" he hissed.

"What??"

"She's calling me Ethan Montgomery."

"But that's your name," I said, pretending to be mystified.

"You only call me Ethan Montgomery when I'm in trouble," he explained.

"Well, she's not doing anything wrong," I said. "I can hardly punish her for calling you by your name."

"Ethan Montgomery! Ethan Montgomery!" Allyson sang, and Ethan shrieked again.

The first couple of times, I laughed, but I quickly started fantasizing about a Calgon bath and a few swigs of my cheap cooking wine.

"MAKE IT STOP!" I pleaded mentally, of no one in particular.

There are moments when the two of them make my heart glad--like last night, when Ethan asked for a kiss goodnight and Allyson pulled down his (sweaty) head with both hands and planted a kiss on the crown of his head.

One of Those Moments

And then there are the moments like the one a few short minutes later when Allyson came into Ethan's room to wish him goodnight for the fourth time, and he snarled at her to get out of his room. Seeing her quivering lower lip and her hunched shoulders as she trudged back to bed literally brought tears to my eyes.

I think Ethan and I had a meaningful conversation when I tucked him in a bit later. I reminded him how much Allyson adores him and how much it hurts her when he's cruel. I recounted Allyson's lament a from few days earlier: "I love Ethan so, so much, but he's so mean."

Ethan was unmoved. "It's all her fault. She's just so annoying."

"Ethan, she's two (for three more weeks, anyway). Try to look past her annoying side and see the sweet side."

"I tried that," he said flatly. "She's just too annoying."

I tried to abstain from lecturing and take advantage of this opportunity to impart some wisdom; as long as I kept scratching his back, he was a captive audience. I told him how much he'd appreciate his sister someday, how much I appreciate my own brother and sisters. I asked him if he enjoys spending time with all his cousins, and he couldn't deny that he does. "If I didn't have a good relationship with my siblings, you would miss out on all those fun times," I said.

I also reminded him of how Jesus loves us even when we don't deserve it, and how he expects us to forgive others as we've been forgiven. He didn't argue that point, at least.

I told him he needs God's help in order to love Allyson even when she makes him angry.
During our bedtime prayer, I asked God to help him and Allyson see the best in each other, and asked the Holy Spirit to help Ethan guard his words.

Allyson's Mean Streak
Lest I should feel too sorry for poor little Allyson, she got into some trouble of her own this week. When Bill picked her up from the sitter on Tuesday, he learned that she'd hit her friends Lucy and Katie. Then she refused to apologize or even explain why she did it.

When we questioned her, she said the girls had been pretending to bite her. We surmised that they must have been rough-housing, and she'd gotten carried away like she does when Daddy tickles her.

Rough-Housing with Uncle Rick

I calmly explained that we can't hit people, even when we are playing. She slumped over a kitchen chair and hid her face. "I'm tired!" she whined. (This is her latest excuse whenever she doesn't want to clean up her toys or take responsibility for her actions.)

"Hitting hurts," I told her. "If we hurt our friends, they might not want to play with us any more."

The next line could have been delivered by Ethan: "I usually play by myself."

This morning, I reminded her when I dropped her off that she mustn't hit, and she agreed cheerfully.

This evening, Bill got off work early, so we all rode bikes over to get Allyson. It was a gorgeous evening, not too hot if we rode in the shade, and my spirits were high--until they were dashed the minute I walked through Alex's door.

"Look at your daughter," she said wryly. Allyson was curled up on the couch by herself in the playroom. She was clearly pouting. "She's been like that for an hour, and she won't speak, won't eat. She's basically put herself on time out."

From what Alex could tell, Allyson had punched Lucy in the stomach because Lucy wouldn't let her play with a certain doll. Alex tried to get her side of the story, but she refused to speak.

I was at a loss for words. "I'll try to deal with it," I promised. "She's never acted like this before."

We gathered up her uneaten snack and loaded her into the bike trailer. As he strapped her in, Bill asked her what had happened, and she confirmed Alex's report. At least she was willing to talk to us.

When we got home, I told her there would be no TV at bedtime tonight. She cried a bit because she'd just checked out a Wiggles video at the library and was supposed to watch it for the first time after her bath.

At bathtime, I offered her an out. "Maybe we could call Lucy and you could tell her you're sorry," I suggested. "That would make both of you feel better. And then you could watch your new video."

"I don't want to watch the Wiggles video," she said coolly. "I'll just watch Noggin [a preschool channel]."

"No, honey, you're not watching ANY television tonight because you hurt Lucy and you wouldn't tell her you were sorry."

I watched Allyson square her shoulders and set her jaw. "I don't want to watch TV tonight," she said resolutely.

"Okay, then."

We read a few stories, and I tucked her into her tiny bed. During bedtime prayers, I thanked Jesus for her friends Lucy and Katie and asked God to help them learn to be kind to each other.

A Little Help, Here!
So what do I do next? I feel ill prepared for struggles like this. Allyson, I think, is not the typical two-year-old. Time out doesn't seem to be a valid option since she gave herself time out and didn't seem bothered by it. Spanking isn't a logical way to teach her not to hit. She's impervious to psychology--reverse or otherwise. She's as headstrong as... as... as I was at her age.

Yet she's also the sweetest, most loving little thing. When I snuggle with her in the mornings, I can't believe my tender girl could be capable of hitting anyone.

Of course, I'm praying about this. I'm also reminding myself of my first memory passage in Proverbs 31, through which God has promised that I will "speak with wisdom" and that "faithful instruction will be on my tongue."

Well, I'm fresh out of wise words and faithful instruction tonight. I'm open to suggestions. Has anyone else dealt with this sort of behavior? What else can I do?

And Here Come the Carrots

This morning I spotted the tiny carrot sprouts. Neat how they stand straight up like the stems on a carrot top.


The real stars of The Family Garden are the green beans. They've gone beyond sprouts and are now leafy green plants. Unfortunately, the bugs seem to find them irresistible.


This morning I finally sprayed my home-made, almost organic pesticide on them, and it rained ten minutes later. Hard. So I sprayed them again this afternoon, but now I'm worried that two doses of cayenne pepper (along with onions, jalapenos, and tons of garlic) in one day might stunt their growth.

Tonight at bedtime, Allyson and I prayed for the garden to flourish. Allyson piped up, "And please tell the bugs to stop eating our bedge-tables!"

Then she said, "But Mommy, maybe the bugs are just hungry."

"Yes, I'm sure they are, Baby. But they need to find something else to eat."

Man, I hope these veggies make it. I'm already ridiculously attached to them. Maybe I should start talking to them every morning. Or do you think they'd be more in the mood for conversation in the evening? I'd better read up on it.

Our Day at the Ranch

While Bill's parents were here, we took a three-day mini vacation. On our first day, we stayed at a ranch Deep in the Heart of Texas. It was a working ranch with longhorns, horses, six llamas, and a dog named Rosco. There are seven cabins, but I think we were the only family there because it was a Thursday.

Unfortunately, there weren't a lot of activities going on during the week--such as the chuckwagon dinner I'd been looking forward to--but we still managed to have fun.

After we checked out our cabin, we walked a half mile or so up to the big house for Allyson's free pony ride. We were escorted by Rosco, who went everywhere with us. He would have been very lovable had it not been for his propensity to roll in mud puddles and then rub up against our legs.


It turned out that the "pony" was actually a big horse named Apache, but Allyson wasn't at all afraid. As she rode around the yard, she never stopped grinning. She sat tall in the saddle, her hair waving lazily in the slight breeze. The ranch wife, Tracy, said she was a natural.


Meanwhile, Nana, Ethan and I sat at a picnic table in the shade, next to the chuckwagon that we would not be eating from. After Allyson's ride, Bill and his dad stood and talked to Tracy and her husband for quite some time while sweat trickled down our backs.

Back at the cabin, I settled on the couch for a short nap while the guys drove 20 minutes (each way) into Glen Rose to buy groceries. We could have eaten out, but we decided it would be more fun to grill steaks on the charcoal barbecue.

I guess it's been years since I had anything grilled over charcoal, but I couldn't believe how incredibly delicious the ribeyes were. Sandi didn't marinate them at all, just tossed them on the grill. Even Allyson gobbled her half a steak and asked for more.

After dinner, Bill and Jim watched their Canucks' playoff game. (We were shocked that the cabin had the Versus channel on satellite.) The rest of us sat in the giant hot tub for about an hour. The temperature was perfect, and it was mostly relaxing except when we were caught in the crossfire of Ethan and Allyson's splash wars. We stayed in the water until the stars came out, but the full moon was so bright that we couldn't see too many stars.

It was such a lovely night that we were reluctant to go to bed even though we were exhausted. Sandi, Ethan, and I sat on the porch swing and listened to the night sounds while we contemplated the vast sky. We wondered whether there could be other life out there in the universe somewhere.

I felt very small, but not insignificant. I felt God all around me in the gentle sway of the trees, and I rejoiced that he has given us the capacity to revel in the joys of nature. Surely all the beauty in this world isn't really NECESSARY; no, I think it is a gift for our pleasure--and his. I get the feeling that God delights in surprising us with the wonders of his creation.

Finally, Sandi and Jim settled into the bedroom while the rest of us climbed up the steep ladder into the loft. (Allyson loved climbing the ladder, but getting her down was a major ordeal.) Ethan and Allyson each had a twin bed, and there was a double bed for me and Bill. We were all out in minutes, but Allyson woke up an hour or two later when she fell out of bed with a thunk. She slept blissfully in the middle of our small bed for the rest of the night, but her kicking and thrashing seriously hindered our slumber.

Ethan was up by seven, excited to go fishing in the pond. We opened our eyes to find him standing over us. "Is it time to go?" he asked. Bill stumbled out of bed, but I smiled and rolled over, snuggling Allyson's warm body against my chest.

Two hours later, when we finally got up, the guys were just returning. We were basking on the front porch in the morning sun when we spotted Ethan running across the field, his fishing pole held high and a proud grin lighting up his face. He was breathless with fishing stories.

They'd hiked to the fishing hole, where Ethan promptly caught a turtle! (He released it, of course.) Next, he caught a tiny bass with Grandpa's help. Bill caught two more bass that were a bit bigger. It was a catch and release pond, though, so we didn't get to enjoy a breakfast of fresh fish.

The biggest adventure was when Bill's line got tangled on a tree trunk. Jim fearlessly shimmied his way across a fence, just inches above the water, to untangle the line. He probably could have used some help, but Bill was too busy laughing and taking pictures.


Anyway, they made it home in time for a breakfast of leftover steak and eggs--yum!--and no one got wet.

My favorite moment occurred on the way out. We had bought sugar cubes for the coffee, and Allyson wanted to feed some to the horses. We stopped in the pasture, and they all clustered around us. I was amazed by the velvety feel of the horses' lips, and by the intelligence in their gaze. Not being a "horse person," I'd never felt such a connection with a horse--or any other animal. Just as I thought, "Thank you for this moment, Lord," one of the horses nuzzled my neck! It felt like God had just kissed me! Granted, I had just fed the horse a sugar cube, but I don't know.... It reminded me of the time last summer when I thought God had sent me a dolphin.

Allyson was torn between delight and anxiety; she hid behind my legs like she used to do when she was a toddler. Ethan seemed perfectly at ease. Bill had to drag us away so we could begin part two of our little vacation: the safari camp at the nearby wildlife preserve. But that's another story.

The Lettuce Is Up!

Yesterday, after just four days, we were amazed to see tiny sprouts in the lettuce rows. Aren't they cute?

Lettuce Sprout

It was fitting that the little shoots came up yesterday because my Mother's Day gift consisted of various gardening tools: a tiny rake, pink gloves, a little trowel, a spray bottle for my pesticide concoction, and a fancy sprayer for watering/showering/misting/power washing. (It looks like you could power wash with it, but I'll try not to wash away our sweet little sprouts.)

Ethan was so excited for me to open my gift. He'd picked out the sprayer himself, and he couldn't wait for me to see it. While we tried to enjoy the fancy breakfast he and Bill had prepared, he hounded us continually. In fact, he was just as anxious for me to open this gift as he had been about opening his own birthday gifts a week before. Of course, I was delighted when I finally gave in and opened the present at 10:05 AM.

Ethan and I are both excited to try out the new toys, though I'm a little nervous, too. I hope I'll be able to distinguish the weeds from the veggies. I'm sure Allyson would love to get her hands on the tools, too, but I'll try my hardest to keep our little garden safe from wayward trowels and spades....

This afternoon, we spotted the newborn bean sprouts! Woo-hoo!

Green Bean

Allyson asked if we could eat them, but I told her it would be 71 more days. (She loves green beans.) This evening she had the pleasure of calling Nana--who flew back home this morning--to tell her the good news.

I'm sure Nana must have been impressed. I'm pretty sure she said it would be several days before anything else would sprout. I guess our garden is just a little exceptional!

Veggies and Creepy Crawlies

Today was a perfect day. Bill's parents are visiting from Vancouver, British Columbia, and we had the most fun here at home. We planted a vegetable garden in the corner of our backyard!

First Bill and his dad, Jim, built a little wall of paving stones and filled the area with 35 bags of gardening soil. This was the most fascinating part for Allyson. She was delighted and amazed with all the creepy, crawly creatures that Bill's shovel turned up. There was a writhing mass of ants, wriggling worms, a slimy slug (that Bill picked up with his bare hands!), a partly severed centipede that ran in circles in the wheel barrow, and a good-sized frog.

Allyson was not afraid of any of these. In fact, she picked up several rolly-polly beetles and a worm. She held them out to me and Bill's mom, Sandi, but we preferred to examine them from afar.



Bill managed to catch the frog, and while he was showing it to Allyson, it let out a gush of fluid. "It peed on me!" he said with a grimace.

"You'd better hope it's pee and not some toxic fluid," Sandi said.

You're not going to believe what Allyson said next. (I find it hard to believe myself.) "It's the frog flu!" she shouted. Obviously, we've been doing way to much joking about the swine flu around here.

Once the soil was prepared, the whole family headed to Home Depot to buy seeds and seedlings. By this time, Ethan was home from school, and I was surprised at his enthusiasm. I never knew he'd be so interested in planting vegetables. (Hopefully he'll be just as interested in EATING them in about 75 days.)

We bought two kinds of tomatoes, banana peppers, yellow bell peppers, yellow squash, green beans, two kinds of lettuce, and carrots. Ethan picked out the banana peppers since they are his favorite, and Allyson carefully selected pot after pot of tiny seedlings.

After an ice cream break at the Sonic drive-in, we came back home and planted our veggies. Everyone except me got filthy; I busied myself taking pictures and fetching supplies, ice water, etc.

See Ally's Dirty Face!

Under Nana's watchful eye, Ethan gently nestled the seedlings in their new beds. Then he made about six furrows for the seeds. Ethan meticulously spaced the tiny seeds, but Allyson dropped them in bunches.

Ally and Nana Planting Carrots

Sandi and Jim struggled to plant the tomatoes in the funny Topsy Turvy upside-down planter. The TV infomercial claims that planting is effortless, but we thought it was pretty darn confusing. Bill hung the planter from the pergola, where I hope the dangling tomatoes will be out of the dog's reach. (I still have flashbacks about the violent death of TWO tomato plants last spring.)

Tomorrow I'll concoct a noxious brew of onions, garlic, jalapeno peppers, and dish soap to keep away the pests. I can't believe I'm this enthused over an insecticide recipe!

Now we wait. It seems impossible to believe that soon we'll be eating vegetables from our own backyard. Ethan and I are so excited! Maybe this will teach us both some patience.

The Finished Garden

Asleep in No Time...Not!

Allyson finally got her big girl bed last week, one month before her third birthday. She and Daddy put it together while I was on my birthday shopping spree, and she was beside herself with excitement when she showed me the bed for the first time. In fact, she wanted to go to bed right away even though it was only about 6:00 and still bright outside.

"No, honey, it's not bedtime yet," I explained.

"Can I take a nap?" she asked. (I never thought I'd hear those words coming out of her mouth!)

"It's kind of late for a nap," I protested. "You can go to bed when it gets dark."

A few minutes later, I was folding laundry when I heard Allyson calling me. I found her snuggled under her mismatched quilt on her new bed and clutching her favorite dolly. She had closed the curtains and turned on the little noisemaker that she used to listen to during nap time.

"Read me a story! I'll fall asleep in no time," she predicted.

I stifled my laughter and grabbed a Cat in the Hat book. I knelt beside her and started reading. About five minutes later, Ethan and his four friends, who were spending the night for his twelfth birthday, returned from Blockbuster. The moment Allyson heard their voices downstairs, she leapt out of bed and ran down to join in the fun.

A couple of hours later, it was actually time for bed, and I snapped some shots of her while Daddy tucked her in. She was still excited about the new bed, but I wondered if she'd stay in it when we left the room.

Just as I'd expected, she was in her doorway about a minute later. "I just want to say good night," she explained.

"Good night! Go back to bed."

Another minute later: "I just need a drink...."

"...I just need to go potty...."

"...I just need to read a story...."

"I just need you to pray again, Mommy...."

"GO TO SLEEP!!!"

We hoped her restlessness was due to the novelty of the toddler bed and the excitement of the sleepover, but this has been her nightly pattern. It's driving us crazy!

Still, she's so cute. She rotates all the way around in her tiny bed; when we check on her, her feet might be hanging off the side or resting on her pillow. As often as not, she ends up on the floor.

I have to face it: my baby is gone! In fact, she's so big that she told her first knock-knock joke the other day, and it was actually funny....

"Knock-knock!"

"Who's there?"

"Allyson."

"Allyson who?"

"Mama! You know who I am!" she giggled uproariously. She repeated this joke at least 10 times in a row, and she laughed harder every time. She was enjoying herself too much for me to get tired of it.

Sigh.... I should know this is the way of it. Ethan's TWELVE, for crying out loud. I can't complain, though. What a privilege it is to watch my children growing and developing their own personalities.

Why I NEVER Throw Things Away

I apologize in advance to my male readers, but I just had to share today's adventure because it's SO me. Feel free to bail out at any time, guys....

Just before it was time to leave for the gym this morning, I discovered that I was all out of sanitary napkins. I had bought one of those industrial- size packs that only seems endless. I went fishing around in the depths of the bag, and my hand came up empty. Not to worry, surely there was a pad back in the cabinet somewhere. I tossed out old hair spray cans, hair gels, manicure kits, and dried up nail polishes. I found all sorts of interesting things that I haven't used in years, but not one pad.

I still wasn't too worried. You know how you often find a stray pad hanging out in a suitcase you haven't used for awhile? I was certain I'd seen a pad or two in a suitcase recently. I searched through the suitcases, overnight bags, and carry-on bags in our closet to no avail. It seemed there wasn't a sanitary napkin in the entire house.

At this point, I could have headed to the store, but that would have meant missing at least part of my gym class. I stood with my hand on my hip, brow furrowed, as I considered my options. All I needed, actually, was some sort of makeshift pantiliner. Suddenly, my mind settled on that old pack of Curity nursing pads up on the closet shelf. Was it still there?

Yep! I stretched up on my tiptoes and pulled down the box. It was half full. The shape was all wrong, of course, but a pair of scissors would fix that easily enough. But what about adhesive? I knew I'd be going through all sorts of contortions in my Pilates class, and there was no chance that a modified nursing pad would stay put.

I didn't have time to look for Duck tape, and I knew Scotch tape wouldn't do it. Hmmm.... I remembered the old Stayfree commercials: "No belts! No pins!" What I needed was some safety pins. I ran to Ethan's bathroom and looked on the top shelf of his vanity. Yes!!! There were two safety pins that had come with the house. They were adorned with brightly colored beads--remember that fad from a decade or so ago?

I found my rattiest pair of underwear and pinned the little pad from the outside, at both ends (after I'd stripped off the pretty beads). Perfect! For a moment, I wondered what might happen if one of the safety pins came open during Pilates. I decided to take the risk; the pins might be 20 years old, but they looked pretty sturdy.

As I scooped up Allyson and took off for class, I could hear Bill's dry voice in my head: "In the amount of time it took you to concoct a plan, round up the raw materials, and make that pad, you could have gone to Walmart Market and back."

Well, maybe, I admitted mentally. But now I had the double pleasure of having saved some money and having justified my compulsion to save EVERYTHING. Who knew that I'd find a use for my old breast pads and two beaded safety pins--at the same time?

Later, I was washing dishes when I felt a sharp pinch near... well, let's just say in the seat of my pants. Ouch! Was it the safety pin? A quick check assured me that both pins were still firmly fastened. Maybe I had imagined it.... No, about five minutes later I felt another sharp pinch on the back of my knee. I yanked up my pantleg and found a fire ant! What are the odds that I would be bitten in the crotch by a fire ant in my kitchen on the only day I ever remember having safety pins hooked to my underwear? Seriously!

I'm still not sure if I'm going to tell Bill about my little adventure. I figured he'd ask why the box of breast pads and the scissors were lying on the vanity, but he didn't say one word. He probably saw them, wondered, and thought, "Nah...."

I'm sorry to say that on my afternoon trip to the grocery store, I forgot to buy more pads. Darn it! Oh well, there are about 15 more breast pads left.

Please Pray for Dad

Dad had another endoscopy this morning to check for recurrence of his esophageal cancer. The original site is clear, but he had developed another cancerous nodule in a different area. This was a shock to us. We thought it was just a routine follow-up. Dad has been feeling so much better and looking so much better that we didn't expect bad news.

They did an ultrasound to see how far the nodule had penetrated, and they determined that they could safely cut it out--which they did today. He should have his biopsy results in ten days, and his doctor is consulting with a cancer specialist to determine the best course. His heart does not seem strong enough for a more invasive surgery. Chemotherapy may be an option.

I feel so exhausted emotionally. When I pray for him, I just pray for God to have mercy on Daddy. (He hasn't been Daddy for years and years, but right now he is. I am a little girl napping next to him on the living room floor while we wait for dinner.) I don't want him to suffer. I don't want him to be sick at all any more. I just want this to go away.

Please pray for Dad and my family. Please pray that God will direct his doctors in determining his treatment plan.

Thank you!

Lola the Bubble Slayer

Our beloved Lola has discovered a pastime even more exciting than chasing water: she loves to jump up and pop soap bubbles with her teeth.

Here's a short video. Prepare to be amazed at Lola's agility and accuracy. It's my voice narrating, but I wasn't talking for the camera. I was actually on the phone, doing a bit of algebra tutoring, when I saw Lola and had to grab the camcorder. On the video, I'm explaining to my friend Chris why I am totally not paying attention to him.

Enjoy!



P.S. Have you noticed that I've posted more videos of my dog than my children? I wonder what that means?

I Hear Birdies...Tweet! Tweet!

There wasn't a moment's peace on Saturday after Allyson learned we'd be going to the "bird park." I'd been invited by a high school friend, Christina, to go to a nearby park for a special bird event. Throughout our busy morning, Allyson kept asking every few minutes, "Is it time to go to the bird park?"

We finally arrived around 2:45, in time to catch the last hour or so of the event. We'd apparently missed the falcons and Cooper's hawks and so forth, but we still had a great time. The first wonder was the gift shop, which had all manner of realistic-looking stuffed animals. There were owls and bats and mice and butterflies.

Christina's husband showed us each animal, holding them like puppets. At first, Allyson clung to my leg, but soon she was excitedly pointing out each animal to me. Gary had her giggling in no time.

Next up was story hour, and the reader must have been a teacher because she was so skilled at sparking the imagination and holding everyone's interest. She read a book about a migrating hummingbird, and we learned many fascinating tidbits. Did you know, for example, that hummingbirds can fly backwards and even upside-down?

We were a diverse group. There were children of various ages, along with their parents, and then there was a group of mentally challenged adults. Those men and women were a joy to watch. They were so enthusiastic, so delighted to learn about hummingbirds and to share their knowledge with each other. They never stopped grinning, and they never ceased to be amazed.

The highlight of the story hour was when the teacher passed around a real stuffed hummingbird in a plastic case. It had been found in this area back in 1976! I held my breath as Allyson held the tiny box; I was afraid she would shake it and damage the beautiful, fragile creature.

Once she had held the bird, Allyson couldn't care less about the story. She kept announcing in a stage whisper that she really wanted to hold that bird again. The girl to our right heard her and handed the bird over, and Allyson studied it intently for a few more minutes until I made her pass it on. A couple of minutes later, Allyson pleaded, "I leely [really] want to hold that bird, Mommy!" I took her by the hand and led her away so the others would not be distracted.

Next, we admired several turtles, frogs, and snakes in aquariums. Just like her big brother Ethan, Allyson was an animated tour guide. "Look at the frog, Mommy! Do you see the snake?"

It took some effort to drag her away, but we finally headed outside to look for some live birds. On our way to the bird walk, we stopped at an art table where Allyson used dyed feathers to paint with a dazzling array of tempra paints. She didn't attempt to draw anything or anyone, just brushed vibrant swirls of color haphazardly across the page. Gary, on the other hand, made a sort of impressive owl. Allyson picked out a spot on the clothesline for their two masterpieces, and then we headed off to the bird walk.

Christina and Gary, who had just taken a guided walk, assured us that there were many types of birds along this lushly wooded path, but we never saw any. That's because every few feet, Allyson would shout, "Hey, guys! I fink I hear some birdies... Tweet! Tweet!" Each time, I'd remind her to be very quiet so as not to scare the birds away, and she'd nod her head and whisper, "Okay." But each time she heard the telltale chatter of birds, her excitement would get the best of her again. "Listen! It's birdies! Tweet! Tweet!"

So instead of seeing birds, we sometimes heard them fluttering away frantically as we rounded a corner. No matter. Since Christina is actually an elementary school science teacher, we got our own guided tour. She pointed out all the tiny wonders we would have missed:

• Tiny seeds inside their seed coats
• Dainty white onion flowers with adorable little onion bulbs (when she broke a stem, I was startled to recognize the pungent aroma of onion)
• Mushrooms growing on the side of logs
• A spider's nest bejeweled with sparkling water droplets
• Scurrying creatures that lived under a log (Allyson was delighted, but I shuddered involuntarily)
• A big pile of dog poop that she carefully guarded so that Allyson wouldn't step in it

The weather was absolutely perfect. It was overcast with a gentle breeze, neither hot nor cold. The ground was a bit muddy from the recent rain, which gave Allyson an excuse to wear her beloved blue boots from Nana in Vancouver. As twilight approached, little clouds of mosquitoes joined us on our walk, but thankfully they never bit us. Allyson welcomed them cheerfully: "Look, Mama, a skeeto!"

When we returned to the science center, the clothesline with the paintings was gone. Gary inquired inside and learned that the pictures had been discarded when the event ended at 4:00! Allyson was heartbroken. She's still pining for that Picaso-esque painting.

After the nature walk, we met another high school friend named Helen and her smiley, amazingly squirmy baby Charlie. We had the most delicious fish tacos at a hole-in-the-wall Mexican restaurant, and we sat out on their porch and talked endlessly while Gary kept Allyson entertained.

It was a most wonderful Saturday afternoon, after which Allyson was utterly exhausted.

Just after we got home, the sky opened up and let out torrents of rain. I was so glad to be snug at home, relaxing on the couch with Allyson. We're already making plans to go again.