Wednesday, October 18, 2006

That's What I Learned In My School...Boom Boom

Sometimes we have long days. Sometimes my husband and I lose some of our intellect. We might, for example, excuse ourselves to use the "potty", instead of the bathroom, or offer to get another adult, a "nosewipe" instead of a tissue. The other day, we had several things going on in the evening and had a rushed dinner. Brandon had mentioned that he had eaten some greasy pizza for lunch at the school and with our busy evening, had developed a bit of heartburn. His words were, "Ohh, its burning the top of my air blower!". I paused and replied with a half smile, "So, is that somewhere between your chin chopper and bread basket?". He grinned sheepishly, opened the medicine cabinet, and murmered something about "dickey dickey doo". Some of you may be scratching your topnotchers, so here are the lyrics to an old nursery song Brandon apparently learned as a boy, and I picked up while working at a daycare center when we were just married. I couldn't remember some of the words, so I searched until I found this site. A nice lady has compiled a hundred songs or more from our childhood. What a nice google down memory lane! Boom Boom!

My Hand on my Head

My hand on my head, what have I here?

This is my topnotcher, my Mama dear.

Topnotcher, topnotcher, dickey dickey doo,

That’s what I learned in my school, boom boom.

My hand on my brow, what have I here?

This is my sweat boxer, my mama dear.

Sweat boxer, topnotcher, dickey dickey doo,

That’s what I learned in my school.

Boom! Boom!

Eye ... eyeblinker, sweatboxer (forehead), topnotcher (head) ...

Nose ... smell sniffer.(or hornblower)

Mustache ... soup strainer ...

Mouth ... food grinder ...

Chin ... chin chopper ...

Neck ... voice boxer...

Chest ... air blower ....

Stomach ... bread basket ...

Behind .... lap sitter ...

Thigh .. thighslapper ..

Knee ... knee knocker ...

Shin ... shinsplinter

Foot ... foot stomper ...

Tuesday, October 10, 2006

An Autumn Winter Wonderland

(You know the tune)

When it snows
In October,
I can't believe
That its October!
Its not even Halloween,
The grass is still green,
Its an Autumn Winter Wonderland.
When it snows
In December,
That's O.K.
'Cause its December!
October's for leaves
And colors on trees,
But its an Autumn Winter Wonderland.
In the yard, the kids,
They built a snowman.
They scrambled for a scarf and matching hat.
We hadn't even unpacked winter coats, yet.
Not even our vampire, ghost, and bat!
In the front, we are landscaping,
So the work, Brandon's escaping.
We can't dig the ground
With snow all around,
Its an Autumn Winter Wonderland!

Wednesday, October 04, 2006


I have chosen a "profession" for which I have received some scrutiny, some praise, and some flabbergastment. When I was small, my Mom would tell me, "Honey, you can be anything you want. You could be a nurse, or even a doctor. You could go to dental school." I would listen as I sat on the counter, and watch her stir the sweet, thickening jam made from our trip to the U-Pick strawberry patch the previous day. I would think about that as I watched her rinse the fresh, still-warm-from-the-sun tomatoes, squash, and peppers from our garden, and throw together a delicious dinner without a cookbook. She would encourage me to get as much education as possible, to find a career. She would then load us all up in the VW camper bus and take us to the lake for the day, picnic and floaties in tow, or a neighborhood fair, or Pike's Place market. She taught me how to scrub a bathroom and dust the house before I could jump rope, and she organized chore charts to keep the house, and us, running smoothly. She took care of us when we were sick and always seemed to know the remedy, and when to take us to the Dr.'s office. "You could do so much. You are so smart!", she would declare, as she and I made visits to women in our church, sharing uplifting messages and plates of cookies. I watched her mow the lawn with a determined look on her face, heard the clinking of dishes being washed and put away as I fell asleep at night, helped her make beds in the morning. "You can be anything you want to be...don't settle for less." Sometimes there would be a longing in her voice, on a particularly hectic day; those days when things do not go so well, and we doubt ourselves. But I remember the serenity on her face as she watched us baboons run about, just watching in amazement and gratification. Or, her satisfaction of a clean house as she plopped down to read a magazine, or write a letter. Her independence in exploring her corner of the world and opening our eyes to it. Her pride in our accomplishments. Teaching, always teaching. I knew what I wanted to be. How thankful I am to be a house-wife, a stay-at-home-Mom, a handy-woman, a comforter, a coach, an explorer, a gardener, a chef, a nurturer, an organizer, a dancer, a singer, a disciplinarian, a scriptorian, a teacher... a student of life. I have a college education, and when the kids are gone, I will probably go back to school, see what else I can do. I have travelled. I have had a business. I have worked HARD and have met with discouragement, even despair. But nothing, NO OTHER EXPERIENCE, could make me feel more accomplished, more well-rounded, more needed, more in-tune with life and its meanings, more loved, than running my home, raising my kids, making my spot of Earth find its potential. What a challenge... and I love a challenge! Thanks, Mom, for teaching me to be anything I want. Thanks, Brandon, my love, for helping me to be.