Cookie Therapy

Think what a better world it would be if we all, the whole world, had cookies and milk about three o'clock every afternoon and then lay down on our blankets for a nap.
          ~Barbara Jordan 

 The shootings in Connecticut have hit me harder than any of the previous shootings and I can't put my finger on why. Maybe it is because there were beautiful little children who were victims, maybe because there were so many victims, maybe because it is also Christmas time... maybe all of it. But I find myself close to tears a lot these last few days. I have had to stay away from the TV because I can't stand watching the unending interviews with survivors, family members, political activists and pundits. The trappings and busy-ness of Christmas have seemed shallow and joyless.

Today I had a break from the grief of this national tragedy when my 4 year old grand daughter paid me a visit. She came so her Daddy could run some Christmas errands. We decided to bake some Christmas cookies!

Addie, it turns out, loves to help in the kitchen. She was excited to help her grandma and chattered excitedly the whole time. She hung in there to mix, roll out, cut out, bake and decorate a double batch of sugar cut-out cookies. I had purchased new Christmas sprinkles which she really, really loved. And most of all, she loved eating one.

We had a great time laughing, working, helping one another. She actually told me, "Grandma, I LOVE it when we help each other!"  I am still smiling now as I write this... she was a balm for my hurting heart. Just what I needed to remember the joy of Christmas again.

First step in the kitchen is ALWAYS WASH YOUR HANDS!

Then you gather your supplies...

and get the recipe and read it.

Addie demonstrates step 4:  "schmush it like this..."

and roll it like this.

And then you cut the cookies like this!

Look how many!

Frosting and sprinkles... the best part!

See how pretty!

Cookies and milk... YUM!

The Helpers

When I was a boy and I would see scary things in the news, my mother would say to me, "Look for the helpers. You will always find people who are helping." To this day, especially in times of 'disaster,' I remember my mother’s words, and I am always comforted by realizing that there are still so many helpers - so many caring people in this world. 
          ~Mister Rogers

It is incomprehensible to me that someone could shoot a child. That someone could shoot 20 of them is so far from anything I can understand that it leaves me unable to express what I feel. And I don't think I am alone.  Trying to understand this tragedy will result in many people giving their opinions on stuff like gun control,  mental health treatment, even health care in general and the state of our public schools. All of these topics are worthy of deliberation and perhaps they will  improve because of it. But none of the discussions will ease the pain we feel now, in the midst of the tragedy.
The families of these precious children must grieve for the rest of their lives. The soul of the community in which they lived has a huge hole in it. And it is Chrismas... the time that is supposed to be about joy and Peace on Earth. How can we even think about Peace on Earth when this kind of tragedy is so fresh in our hearts?

I have two thoughts:

First, the Nativity in Bethlehem was only part of the story. When Herod got word of the birth of a king he ordered all male children under the age of 2 to be killed. What followed was described as The Slaughter of the Innocents. When in Italy, we saw several vivid paintings that showed this-- and they were terrifying. The recent shootings of those children in Connecticut reminded me of them. And the images of frantic mothers trying desperately to protect their children. And the images of the hardened emotionless faces of the soldiers carrying out Herod's orders. The faces looked oddly familiar-- they resembled the faces we have seen on the TV. Evil exists today just as it existed then.

And second, if evil exists, what can we do about it? I refer you to the quote above from Fred Rogers, the late host of the beloved PBS children's TV show. He grappled tough subjects on his show in language that children could understand... and the quote above I think holds the key to what we can all do to promote Peace on Earth in the midst of this tragedy.

Simply put, we must look for the Helpers-- the people who rush in to help even in the midst of chaos, danger and tragedy. They are always there. As soon as the shooting occurred, a 911 call was placed and The Helpers began arriving. While there was no 911 in Herod's day, I suspect there were helpers who rushed in there too. We need to remember these helpers and assist them whenever we can-- remember the Salvation Army ringer you walked past at the grocery store? The spare change you kept to yourself could have helped that organization help others. Remember all that junk you tried to sell at a garage sale? Donating it to organizations like Goodwill help them help others.

We need to not only remember to help the official helpers, but we need to keep reaching out to others feeling pain or who are in need of help. That is, we too need to look for ways to become Helpers whenever and wherever we can. We can't change what happened in Connecticut. We can only help in limited ways - expressing our sympathies and sending our love and prayers. But we can open our hearts to people close around us and become Helpers for them.

If each of us worked to be Helpers in our own corner of the world, we would put meaning back to the ideas of joy and Peace on Earth.

Silent Night

Silent night! Holy night! 
Son of God love's pure light
Radiant beams from thy holy face  
With the dawn of redeeming grace,  
Jesus, Lord at thy birth,  
Jesus, Lord at thy birth.
          ~from "Silent Night", composed in 1818, words by Joseph Mohr, music by Franz Gruber

 

                                              

I can't sing Silent Night without getting all choked up. Even driving around in the car in the crazy Christmas shopping traffic, when the song is played on the radio I can't sing along. The song triggers so many memories of Christmases long ago...

I remember when my first baby was celebrating his first Christmas. He was eight months old. We had just moved into a big old house in an historic neighborhood-- our house was a "fixer-upper".  There was a Methodist Church within walking distance, so on Christmas Eve, we bundled the baby boy into his snowsuit and trudged off to church. Strangers there, we were greeted warmly, but every person we met directed us to the nursery-- everyone assumed we'd put the baby there during the service. I knew he'd scream bloody murder in there though, so I opted to take him into church. We sat near the back, so in case he cried we could make a quick exit.

He didn't cry. He was mesmerized by the lights. He smiled and gurgled happily on my lap. And when it was time to light the candles and sing Silent Night, he listened intently for a bit and then started to babble-- he was mimmicking the singing he heard. At 8 months old, my baby boy was singing.

I remember another Christmas Eve service where there were two boys. The youngest one was 3. Both were very excited-- and going to church on Christmas Eve had already become a ritual. So when we headed off in the car, this time to a suburban Methodist church, both of them were pretty wound up. Too wound up, it turned out, for a wiggly 3 year old boy. He couldn't sit in his seat. Scribbling on the bulletin only lasted so long. Next thing his parents knew, he was on the floor and had rolled under the seat. And almost nobody noticed because this service was in the early evening and was specifically designed for young families. The sactuary was full of wiggly three year olds, most of whom were also on the floor and under the seats...

As that service drew to a close, the candles were lit and the congregation began to sing Silent Night. The wiggly 3 year old crawled out from under the seats and stood in rapt attention. He "helped" light his mother's candle. He too sang along, as best he could, to the old Christmas hymn.

I remember only a few years ago not being able to attend Christmas Eve services because I was an emotional wreck. My divorce had been final for less than a week, and emotions were just too raw. My life seemed to have crumbled around me... and the pain was amplified by the season.

Only a year later I attended Christmas Eve services, this time with my new beau. We had never been to church together, so I was looking forward to it. My parents came with us, and it was a very special time. I remember distinctly choking up when it came time to light the candles and sing Silent Night-- I was so filled with gratitude for the change in my life and the new love I was discovering.

And so it remains. The song reminds me of my babies and the joy they brought to my life, and of pain and suffering when life took a sad turn, and of newfound love and joy. It reminds me annually of the blessings I have been given and the suffering that I have survived. It reminds me of another mother, so long ago, who also was given great blessings with her son, and who suffered immeasurable grief at his loss, only to discover his loss brought her new life.

My wish for you, dear reader, is that at some point this Christmas season, you are reminded of the blessings in your life. If you are trying to survive a painful time, I hope something during the holiday reminds you that suffering doesn't last forever, that there will be happier times ahead.

Mary did you know that your baby boy will one day walk on water?
Mary did you know that your baby boy will save our sons and daughters?
Did you know that your baby boy has come to make you new?
This child that you've delivered, will soon deliver you.

     ~ from "Mary, Did You Know" by Mark Lowry

(Grand)Parenting in the New Millenium

A mother becomes a true grandmother the day she stops noticing the terrible things her children do because she is so enchanted with the wonderful things her grandchildren do.   
          ~Lois Wyse

Facebook can be a nuisance, but it certainly has shrunk the world so that those who visit the site regularly can feel connected in a very new way. I tend to spend a portion of my morning on the computer, reading and answering emails, and reading many new Facebook entries. Now that I am not working every day (where I was surrounded by people to the point where getting work done could be hard!) I can connect with old friends, coworkers, and family daily. I don't feel isolated. Sometimes I can connect with strangers by reading a post that one of my friends shared.

Recently there have been some posts by young mothers on the stresses of being a parent. I found myself on another blog, written by a young mother, that wrote about how difficult it is to be a mom these days. The point this young mother was making was that too many new moms try to be perfect -- they work outside the home, and try to make life inside the home healthy, educational, nurturing mind and body. They try to cram in way too many activities and try to make certain their children have every advantage in life-- the perfect preschool environment, the perfect combination of physical and mental exercise, art appreciation, and on and on... She admonished mothers to realize that no matter what they did with or for their kids, if they loved them and showed it, they were going to be good moms. She did point out that today's mother is forging new ground in this area in that they are the first generation to have to make so many choices and to feel such incredible pressure to be a skilled parent, yet were finding themselves mostly outside the old circle of women (mothers, aunts, sisters, etc.) that used to help new moms parent.

As you can imagine, there were a few rebuttals from the moms of older generations! Some were a little rude, but there were references to Dr. Spock's how-to book on raising children that helped raise kids in the 50's and 60's, and there was the women's lib era where women had to choose between staying at home with the kids and going out into the work force. I suspect each generation of moms thinks that it must have been the hardest when they were in the trenches. I recently attended a baby shower where the older women in the group marveled at all the new gadgets. Comments like, "How did we ever raise our children without one of those??" come to mind. (And as an old L&D nurse, I do remember the days before epidurals... don't get me started on that!)

Here are my thoughts, as an aging mother and fairly new grandmother:

I don't think parenting is easy, no matter when it occurs or what tools are around to help. This is because we are connected to our children in such an intense way that no matter how much we try, nothing we do can be quite enough. A wise coworker long ago told me, "Barb, to be a parent is to feel guilt!"

It is only with the gift of grandchildren have I been able to put things in better perspective. As a grandmother, I do not feel the heavy responsibility of raising my grandchildren. This allows me to simply relax and enjoy them as the unique and delightful creatures they are! It also allows me to see that children need discipline along with love. Obviously this is a parent's job, if they are around. But when I'm alone with a grandchild who misbehaves it's my job. And because I am not with them all the time I don't feel anger when they misbehave. I can react with patience. I think this is what makes grandparents (or aunts or uncles or other special people) an essential in a child's life! And it is a challenge to those of us as grandparents to not try to "raise" the grandkids... just enjoy them and provide gentle discipline when necessary. We do have to mind our kids, too. That is, we can't do things with or for our grandkids that they would disapprove of.

The separation of extended families can make this difficult. It certainly does in my case, with 2 of my 3 grandkids living out of state. I often wish I lived closer to them not only so I can see them more often, but so I could provide more support to their parents. And that brings me back to the blog I read-- I have discovered there are many, many young mothers out there who are not connected geographically but who support one another through blogging and Facebook and other social media. Sharing the realities of modern day parenting with one another can provide such a sense of "I'm not in this alone..."

In the end, I think the idea that loving your children and doing the best you can to make them safe and healthy is really all that is essential. Children love their parents as intensely as their parents love them, and they don't really care if they don't get typing lessons. They just want to know they are loved and safe.  All those lessons and play dates and trips to museums are icing on the cake. And don't forget grandparents... we are important too!

A Dickens of a Christmas!

"What!" exclaimed the Ghost [of Christmas Past], "would you so soon put out, with worldly hands, the light I give?"
          ~Charles Dickens (1812-1870), from "A Christmas Carol"

  She had been decorating the house for three days. A Christmas "junkie", there were many decorations to put up, and every year she added a few more things. There were four trees in all, of various sizes. The largest, a 12 foot monster, stood proudly in the living room, bedecked in hand blown glass ornaments that had been collected over the years. It also held other keepsakes-- the painted egg from Poland her father brought her, the hand knit bell her grandmother had made, and other baubles given to her as gifts. A pair of fuschia feathered love birds had graced the tree since she had been married, a gift of her new step daughter.  Then there was the Santa tree in the family room, covered with mostly unbreakable figures of Santa-- she had collected these when her own kids were little, and some were gifts from them. Then there was the little tree in the kitchen that was covered in old cookie cutters and some handmade cinnamon ornaments. And finally there was the Travel Tree in the dining room, covered in ornaments gathered on trips taken with her husband.

The Travel Tree went up quickly, leaving only the table centerpiece to complete. That was always the same-- an advent wreath with four candles in the middle. Three purple and one pink-- the Joy candle. Long ago she had started this tradition... she was carried back to the United Methodist Church of her youth, when she and her family stood in front of the church one Advent Sunday and lit the candles on the Advent wreath. And then she remembered when her own family, including two small sons, stood together at the front of the church of her adulthood and lit another Advent wreath. That was when she decided to add the wreath to the family's traditions... and even now, when she was no longer a church goer and had no children at home, she continued to light the candles on the Advent wreath.

She shook her head and looked around the room... and it struck her how lucky she was to have had a family that had so many traditions. There in her dining room stood Grandma Elsie's hutch. On it was Grandma's crystal wine glasses, and Grandma Ruth's china.  The table was also Ruth's. The old Victorian light fixture was Elsie's. The old high chair in the corner had held 5 generations of her family. The chairs had been sat on by six generations. If she closed her eyes, she could see the hutch in Elsie's dining room, and hear the voices of her grandparents, her parents, her aunts and uncles, sibling and cousins, all laughing and sharing the holiday together. She could see it in her  own home, with her own children, their father and his family, gathered around it on Christmas Eve.

It struck her that most of this was gone... the people were gone from her life by death or divorce, and that the Christmas traditions of her past sometimes clashed with the reality of her present.  How odd it seemed that in the past life had been very difficult but Christmas had been so sweet-- almost a respit from the storm. Life in the present was wonderful-- so sweet in comparison. But Christmas sometimes was difficult. Her life and upbringing had been so full of tradition. The absence of some of that tradition was uncomfortable at times.

Then it occurred to her that just as Scrooge had clung to his old notions of Bah Humbug, and had needed to change, she too needed to change her thinking. She didn't need to hold on too tightly to Christmas Past-- she could remember it and cherish the memories-- and still move into the present and new experiences and traditions would come her way.  As she put the finishing touches on the table centerpiece she smiled. It was okay to keep the Advent wreath, but maybe next year she could try something a little different for the table?

I will honour Christmas in my heart, and try to keep it all the year. I will live in the Past, the Present, and the Future. The Spirits of all Three shall strive within me. I will not shut out the lessons that they teach.
          ~Charles Dickens (1812-1870), from "A Christmas Carol"