Mayhem and Magic

Overheard: So Sweet

We went camping with some friends this weekend in an area of Oregon where the ground is just fine dust all around.  So all the kiddos were absolutely filthy pretty much from the moment they got out of the vans.  They all had a blast.

Last night as the boys were brushing their teeth I asked Sparkle,

"What was your favorite part about camping this weekend?  Was it making s'mores?"

"No."

"Was it playing with Sam?"

"Umm, no."

"Was it...  Swimming?"

"No, Mama, more than that."

"Sleeping in a tent?"

"No, more than that."

"I give up.  What was your favorite part?"

"Coming home to our house."

All together now: Awwww....

Great Grandma's Chocolate Ice Box Cake

My sons were my grandmother's only great grandchildren, and she loved them so much, it actually surprised me a little. 

I thought, maybe, that with four children and bunches of grandkids and their partners...  I don't know, that maybe once the family got that big, two more little people who lived far away wouldn't mean that much to her. 

Before she even met Sparkle, I realized that I had underestimated her.  She and my Grandpa were some of the first to send Sparkle a gift.  They sent him a sweatsuit, size 18 months, with various tools embroidered on it.  At the time I thought it was funny that she had sent my brand-new five-month-old son a toddler sized outfit.  Obviously, as a long-time mother and grandmother, she knew better than I how quickly he would grow into it.  Both Sparkle and Pumpkin wore the outfit, and it is one of the twenty or so "little boy" outfits that I saved once both boys had outgrown it.

In the same package with the clothes was a casette tape.  On it was a recording of the radio broadcast of their church service from the Sunday after we had called them about Sparkle's referral.  They had sponsored the broadcast in his honor. 

My grandma used to make this absolutely yummy Chocolate Ice Box Cake.  I only remember having it for birthday celebrations. The recipe is kind of a secret.  Like, my aunts and uncles joked about it being a secret family recipe as if (ha, ha!) our family would be so smug as to have a secret recipe.  But yet... no one else did have the recipe...  I think she gave it to her kids, though, a few years ago.

It takes forever to make and is kind of complicated, however, and as she got older other people took over the making of family birthday cakes.  No Chocolate Ice Box Cakes, though; that was still her thing.

I had not had Chocolate Ice Box Cake for years and years.  Then when we visited family for my sister's wedding last April, my grandparents came over one day to celebrate Sparkle's birthday.  (He had already had two mini-birthday parties, but he was still really excited.)  And my grandma brought Sparkle a Chocolate Ice Box Cake!

My mom made the whipped topping in the kitchen, and Grandma sat in the dining room.  When the cake was ready we all sang Happy Birthday to a self-concious Sparkle.

That evening was the last time we saw her.  All of my grandparents are getting quite old, and we live far away.  So for years, I've felt like every time we see them I needed to make the most of it.  Sort of morbid, but I didn't want their deaths to "sneak up on me" I suppose. 

I remember that evening trying to make sure to take a few snapshots of the boys with their great grandparents, and getting a little frustrated because they weren't really turning out.  But what was I going to say?  "Boys!  Sit still!  Grandma, hold my crazy wiggling two-year-old!  I want to get a good picture in case we never get another chance!"

It seems a little silly of me, but I'm surprised by how important it's been to me that my Grandma made my son a Chocolate Ice Box Cake.  I suppose after a person dies, you realize then what memories were really meaningful to you.

Anyway, I've been thinking about her and my grandpa a lot lately.  Hoping Grandpa is okay.  Hoping my boys will remember their great grandparents.  Just remembering random things.  And then I feel weird for getting all nostalgic and stuff.

So here's a picture of Sparkle, blowing out the four candles on his Chocolate Ice Box Cake.  And that's my amazing Grandma behind him, smiling a little and loving her great grandson very much!

Encouragement

Sometimes it seems like racism can never be changed, like progress is so slow that it's almost invisible. 

Well, take heart!  Here's some encouragement for you!

While on our vacation with Beloved's family, most of the adults were playing a card game together and talking.  Beloved's oldest brother started talking about a T-shirt he had seen in a gift shop that bothered him.  The T-shirt showed a picture of Mount Rushmore, and above the faces of the presidents, kind of coming through the clouds, were the faces of four Native American leaders.  He didn't like the T-shirt, but he wasn't sure why.

As it turned out, he was uncomfortable and upset that the Native American leaders were "elevated" to equal status with the U.S. Presidents by the artist who designed the image on the T-shirt.  He held an attitude of white privilege and superiority.  Sort of like saying (though he did not actually say this), "It's okay for Native Americans and other minorities to have their own symbols and beliefs and culture.  I'm not racist so I'm okay with that!  But I am offended when those up-start minorities suggest that their leaders, beliefs, and culture are of equal value to my own!"

It didn't take long for me to start to fume.  And Beloved, too, and I think his younger brother, but they are both super calm and collected under all circumstances.  I was completely inarticulate and I think I muttered some sarcastic comment.  I was afraid I was going to say something rude out of anger, so I just said, "Maybe we should stop talking about this because it's making me angry." 

If I had just waited, I'm sure Beloved and his younger brother would have set their older brother straight, but as it was we just endured a brief awkward silence and then focused on the game.

It was only a few more days until we left.  As we were packing up the van and preparing to go, Beloved's brother approached me and said (and this is word for word as well as I can remember it):

"I've been thinking about what I said the other day and why you were so upset.  I tried to get what I said to make sense, but no matter how I think about it, I was wrong.  And I'm sorry.  And...  Thank you."

!!!!!!

Isn't that fabulous?!  I was so, so impressed!  It takes a lot of guts to not only admit to being wrong and apologize, but also to be grateful that the error was pointed out.

He didn't come to this realization because anyone beat him over the head with his horribleness, or because I was articulate in explaining why I was upset.  It was because he's a good man who wants to do what's right.

I don't know what impact this experience will have on his day-to-day life, if any.  But I do believe that he will think more critically about race and privilege.  And that is a good start!

I just wanted to share this to encourage you.  Anti-racism is effective!  Just speaking up, even if you don't know exactly what to say or how to say it, can make a difference!

Color Coded T-Shirt Photo

Here we are in our matching T-shirts.  Couples are wearing the same color, but the children are not wearing the same color as their parents.  Try not to get confused.

Beloved's parents had four children-- three boys one after the other and then a daughter born much later.  (All three of her older brothers had their doctorates before she graduated from high school!)  Sister is a single college student.  Both of Beloved's brothers are married.  The oldest brother and his wife have four kids.

Another family picture at Rushmore.  I'm not sure why the group pictures were taken from below face height.  In this picture, I suppose, we were trying to include the presidents.  But the angle isn't very flattering.  So in real life, we're all much, much more attractive!

I'd Better Stay Healthy

Beloved and I both applied for disability insurance recently.  We had no reason to be concerned about qualifying and getting a good rate, since we are both very healthy.

I got a letter today saying that the company will not offer me disability insurance. 

My family health history is great.  I have never had any surgeries and have never been hospitalized for any reason.  I am a normal weight.  I run five days a week.  I take no medication other than a birth control pill.  I have never smoked and rarely drink alcohol.  My blood test results are perfect.  I have not taken antibiotics for over three years.  I don't have a high risk job or hobbies.  I have had two speeding tickets, but one was when I was a teenager and the other was over five years ago.  I do not have any mental illness.  I have a physical every two years, but otherwise have not even had to see a health care provider for many years. 

Perfect, perfect, perfect...

I was denied because of something I would not have had to disclose, but I did because it was asked.  (Perhaps it would have been unethical or immoral for me to lie, but they would never have found out.)

And, no, I'm not going to tell you what it was, because apparently it makes me some kind of uninsurable freak.  A Freak with a big ol' capital F kind of freak.

I don't know why, but it bothered me a lot.  I felt embarrassed.  (What the... ???)  I almost cried.  I didn't want to tell Beloved.

When I showed him the letter, he shrugged and said, "Huh.  Well, I guess we'll apply somewhere else."  And then he went to bed.  Insensitive, unsympathetic husband.  Sheesh!

Now, of course, I'm super nervous that some horrible disabling accident is going to happen, leaving me alive but unable to care for my family or earn income in any way, and we'll be bankrupted and the children will be left to fend completely for themselves because I was stupid enough not to qualify for disability insurance.

Needing A New Church

One of the pastors at our church said something during a sermon that was really offensive.  I can't really vent about it anywhere else, so I'm going to write about it here.

The pastor was talking about freedom in Christ (I think) and used slavery and the Emancipation Proclamation in an illustration.  He said that once the Emacipation Proclamation was signed, the slaves were free!  They no longer had to serve their old masters!  Whoo-hoo, freedom!

Beloved and I both exclaimed in protest (not yelling or anything, but said out loud something like "No, they could not just walk away!"), and looked around to see if other people were hearing what we were hearing.  Well, apparently not.

I know most people who read this blog already understand this, but let me lay out why the illustration is offensive.

Least Offensive Interpretation:  The comparison shows a lack of understanding of the consequences of slavery, the whole civil rights movement, and current race relations in the US.  In addition, it shows a lack of understanding about how the Emancipation Proclamation actually worked and what it really stated. 

Someone who thinks (or even implies for the sake of an illustration) that slaves could have just walked away is also probably someone who would say, "Well, slavery was a long time ago.  We're all color blind now.  Why make such a big deal about race stuff?"

Highly Offensive Interpretation:  If the slaves could have just walked away after the Emancipation Proclamation and they didn't...  They must have been stupid.

Interpretation Offensive in the Extreme:  The slaves could have walked away, having been legally freed and all, but they didn't.  They must have liked being slaves and could not manage without someone else thinking for them.  Besides being stupid, they enjoyed and deserved enslavement, so slavery was not that big a deal anyway.

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The idea of the illustration was that Christ has given us freedom, but we don't recognize and claim that freedom.  So I think the pastor was "only" Highly Offensive rather than Offensive in the Extreme.  What do you think?

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We've been attending this church very regularly for the last three years.  We love our small group.  We like that it's a large congregation.  (Large churches seems to have the resources for lots of interesting programs.  But we're both introverts, and we like being able to participate where we want to and fade into the background the rest of the time.)

In the backs of our minds we always knew we wouldn't stay in this church body forever.  We've noticed paternalistic attitudes when people in the church talk about serving other people.  Kind of a racist or classist vibe here and there.  Just weird stuff that we couldn't really put a finger on but that bugged us a bit anyway.  But looking for a new church is time consuming and a lot of work, and we like so many other things about the church, so we put it off.

People who are easily offended and leave churches in a huff always seem self-absorbed and divisive to me.  We did not and will not fuss, pout, and look for attention because we were offended.  That's not it at all.  It's just that the church rather suddenly stopped feeling like a home or a haven for us.  Now we both feel cautious and a little sad. 

I guess we should start looking...  I know it's not possible to avoid all racism by changing churches, but we need to find some place that is at least trying a lot harder.

Funeral Travel

My grandmother passed away a few days after we got home from vacation, so I'm in Minnesota for the memorial and funeral.  Traveling here alone felt odd-- I kept feeling like I was forgetting something or someone.

Being here is odd, too.  It's so good to see my parents and my brothers and sister.  Yet we're all here because of a sad event, and it's hard to see my Grandpa without my Grandma.  He looks so much more fragile and old.

I miss my husband and my boys, but it's also nice in some ways to be here without them.  I don't have to worry about whose nap time is coming up, who needs to be reminded to use the bathroom, or where the sippy cup was put down.  I can have uninterrupted  conversations! 

There is not much time to blog, but there is so much I need or want to write about these days.  Hopefully soon...  Thanks for hanging in there even when my posting is so sporadic.

Back from Vacation

We were out of town for the last week, on a vacation in South Dakota with Beloved's family.  The kids had a wonderful time playing with their cousins.  The adults had an okay time, too, I think.

I love Beloved's family.  Yes, I really do.  They do things differently than my family, though.  Beloved and I have been married for eight years now, and it still throws me for a loop sometimes.

For example, going to Mount Rushmore on July 4 might not have been my first choice.  As much as I love continuously bumping into people with our giant stroller because everyone is so tightly packed together, and trying to keep track of my kids among thousands of strangers...

My mother-in-law is quite cute.  We are such very, very different people, and yet she has been completely sweet to me.  So I share the following with nothing but love for her, okay? 

Whenever the family gets together, she likes everyone to have matching and color-coded T-shirts.  I'm not sure why this is, since we all know who's married to whom, and which kids go with which parents.  There are only 15 of us, so it's not a huge extended family. 

For this trip, my sister-in-law designed a logo (yes, a logo) which was ironed on to the color-coded T-shirts.  The logo says, "Mayhem Family Frolic 2007" with a picture of a mountain. 

It's funny to me because it seems like so much effort for such a minimal result.  Cheap T-shirts are pretty much the least flattering thing a person can wear, don't you think?  When I put mine on, it was just a shapeless cotton tube with a collar that fit tight to the neck and came down to about my knees.  So the options were to either wear it hanging down to my knees or kind of tuck the bottom up to my waist, like we did in junior high. 

And those were what we wore for a family picture.  Lookin' goooood! 

Another thing that cracked me up was her purse.  I'm not sure if she made it herself (she's a seamstress and quilter), or bought it.  But it was made from an old pair of jeans.  So the waistband of the jeans was the opening of the bag, the button and zipper were on one side, and the back pockets were on the other.  She even had her purse wearing a belt!  And...  you know...  to me it just looked like she was carrying around someone's unfashionable butt over her shoulder.  Somehow, though, if anyone could pull off the I'm-carrying-a-butt look, it would be her! 

With love, y'all, with love!

So, now we're back and catching up with all the stuff that needs to be done when you get home from a vacation.  Laundry, unpacking, restocking, and more laundry... 

Whew, vacations are a lot of work!