Just when the summer starts, the trees turn

Aaron and Madeline at Relay for Life 2012, which has become

an early fall tradition for us since they moved the relay to mid August.

I tried to ignore the burgundy hues on my maple tree, but fall is in the air.


It seems like summer just started, doesn’t it?


Somewhere along the way, it seems that summer got away from me yet again.


The pool that we were installing in the backyard is in limbo and almost silly to work on now. You’d think we would be contemplating closing it for the year, rather than building it.


The fence hasn’t been painted yet, but it may get done.


And although they’re late, tomatoes hang on the vines in the garden, soon to be juiced and canned. Ears of corn are developing, with a few ready to get plucked, boiled and buttered.


The petunias are scraggly now, but still blooming. A few perennials are faded and ready to drop their petals.


Lawn furniture needs to be put away soon and the deck could use a good cleaning and perhaps a coat of stain wouldn’t hurt either.


Fall reminds me that another year is almost complete—whether it was good or bad, productive or lazy.


It’s a time to reflect on the days gone by.


In my mind, I can still feel the anticipation of seeing the big, yellow school bus coming down our road, dust rolling behind it. My new jeans were stiff and tennis shoes so perfect and white as I climbed up the big steps.


For a kid living out in the country, miles away from their nearest friend, it was bittersweet when summer ended. Part of me wanted to spend all day rolling trucks in the garden with my brother and chasing flying grasshoppers.


Then again, the other part of me was ready to see my friends on the playground.


As a teen, I simply despised the end of summer. I wanted to sleep in and spend my afternoons earning a little more cash at the old Elkton Food Center. And fall always meant basketball practice—two weeks of running, running and running the court.


Now as an adult, I love fall. Sure, I look back at all of the things I could’ve got accomplished this summer—could’ve, would’ve, should’ve.

Looking back at a great summer

But I also look forward to a new year that is right around the corner that will bring yet another summer and yet another list of things to do and never enough time to do them all.


Good-bye, August. We’ll meet again.

‘That caterpillar looks like he popped!’ And he did…

Did you ever catch a Monarch butterfly caterpillar?

As a kid, I captured oodles of the striped, little caterpillars and stuck them in our old fish tank with scads of milkweed for them to feast on.

I loved watching them turn into butterflies and then setting them free.

I was considering trying to locate one or two caterpillars in a nearby weed field when my mom told me that she had already located one. She had searched and searched and finally found one, lonely caterpillar.

I was so excited and proceeded to get Madeline excited about the butterfly that she would be “raising.”

She was somewhat sad to learn that he would eventually fly away, but I told her we could find a new one every summer. (Yes, we referred to the caterpillar as a boy.)

When the caterpillar arrived, I assured Madeline that we would find lots of milkweed for the little guy and keep him happy until he decided to hang upside-down and turn into a butterfly.

“Metamorphosis” quickly became the word of the day in our house.

The very next day, I was somewhat dismayed that the little guy decided to turn down into the ‘J formation,’ signaling the end of his caterpillar stage.

So much for watching him crawl around and nibble milkweed!

Madeline kept checking in on him periodically, peering into the aquarium with wide eyes.

“Metamorphosis!”

“This is so cool,” I thought to myself. “She is seeing a real miracle of nature.”

And then he popped.

The next morning, I glanced into the aquarium, certain that the little caterpillar would be encased in a green chrysalis.

No. Not exactly.

There hung the once beautiful caterpillar, with an icky, stringy substance oozing down to the aquarium floor. On one side, he looked deflated, as though he had popped open.

“NO!” I shrieked.

“I know…” said Aaron. “That’s not supposed to happen, is it?”

(Obviously, Aaron didn’t catch many caterpillars as a kid)

“NO!” I shrieked. “No way! Yuck!”

I Googled it. It turns out that the lonely caterpillar that we loved so dearly for about 24 hours, had a parasite.

I had never heard of such a thing.

Not one of the Monarch caterpillars that I located as a kid turned out like this. Then again, according to my Google search, parasites in Monarchs aren’t that uncommon nowadays.

I told Aaron that I would try to find another caterpillar later that evening and replace it before Madeline even noticed.

Too late. She noticed.

“That caterpillar looks like he popped,” she said, as I was nervously staring at the aquarium.

“You saw it?” I said, shocked.

“Yeah. He popped,” she said in a very matter-of-fact tone.

Since we have yet to find another Monarch caterpillar, that’s the only “Monarch miracle” she has witnessed thus far.

UPDATE: Mom found a new one and we watched carefully as he spun himself into a beautiful green chrysalis.

This time, he didn't pop!

As a matter of fact, we released him today (August 31, 2012) as a newly formed butterfly. Madeline cried.

"I will miss him," she lamented. And then we went to McDonald's to play and all the world was right again.

Kids showed lion-like courage in Bible dramas

Tina painting whiskers on my baby lion

My little actress. Since she was born, I have said my Madeline is a dramatic kid.

And she is.

But when it comes right down to it, she’s shy and doesn’t like anyone focusing too much attention on her.

Two weekends ago, Madeline and her little friends had their moment in the “spotlight.” They were featured in a series of six Bible dramas.

For Madeline, it was her very first play— a small role, but a role in a real, live play. She was cast as one of four not-so-ferocious lions that circled faithful Daniel after he was thrown into a pit.

Her part was in the final act and I wasn’t sure if she would go through with it. During practice she told me, “I want you to crawl with me, mommy!” (No way, kid!)

Lyndee and Madeline, both age 4

Yet, the show must go on.

Madeline and three of her little pals, Logan Bodary, 3, and sisters Haley Dufort, 7, and Lyndee Dufort, 4, obediently entered the scene and dropped to their lion-like positions and began circling Daniel (Raphael McKean). In keeping with the story, they waited until he was pulled from the pit safely. Then, they gingerly and rather reluctantly, attacked the pretend men that were dropped from the rafters, symbolizing the men that had thrown Daniel into the lions’ pit.

Sadly, I think all four of them forgot their one line, “Roar!”

Nevertheless, the chorus of “Awe! Cute!” from the crowd made my heart swell with pride for all four little lions. They happily milled around with their hot-glued ears, yarn tails and painted whiskers—certainly, the sweetest lions in all the land.

I was so proud. She conquered her fear and she did it!

I held back tears and ran to embrace her behind the curtain after her part.

Yvette directing the show behind the scenes.

“I did it, mommy!” she said. “ROAR!”


Right on, baby girl. ROAR!


On a personal note, I would like to sincerely thank the ambitious young lady, Yvette Hudson, who worked so hard to organize the event in her parent’s pole barn in Fairgrove. The barn was transformed from a garage-type atmosphere into something special—a theater, showcasing so many exceptional young people from our area!

It was so impressive and heart-warming! Faithful men and women of the Bible were highlighted as an example for all of us, including Moses and Aaron, King Solomon, David, Ruth and Naomi, Jephthah and his daughter, and Daniel.

Fantastic job to all of the young people that participated, including: Cassie Anderson, Michael Anderson, Logan Bodary, Kaitlyn Crumby, Colton Darbee, Haley and Lyndee Dufort, Madeline Ewald, Caleb Elizando, Garret and Raphael McKean, Brad Porath, Ashton and Hunter Schultz, Yasmine and Elizabeth Stec, Justin and Stevie Sweet.





Look at these little cuties, Ashton and Yasmine. When did they grow up?



Justin giving the 'thumb's up', along with Stevie and Garrett.



One mean Goliath, AKA Brad. :)



The lion's pit... well, sorta.









Sarah and Logan. I love this picture.



Justin and Garrett "on stage."



Stevie and Colton enter as Moses and Aaron.



Our narrators, Eric and Bob.



Michael was so ready to chop the baby in half! Solomon (Caleb) stopped him.



Awe, Elizabeth stole the show when she hugged Justin at the end of this skit. It was too cute!



Enter the lions!!!!!! Our silent, non-threatening lions.

Grammy and Poppy congratulate our super star.

























What a beautiful congregation








Applause!!!!!!!












Logan checking everyone out, just doin' his thing!





Young voices!

The beauty of the backyard bird buzz, I get it now

I remember my mom hanging out oodles of hummingbird feeders when I was a kid—in the front window, in the backyard, everywhere.

The little buzzing birds fascinated me for about five seconds and then I was on to something else.

Friends would come over and say, “Oh, look! A hummingbird is at your window, Amy! Wow!”

“Yup,” I would say, wondering why it was even worth mentioning.

I could identify the male and the female—good enough, I thought. Whoopee! Big deal!

To me, hummingbirds weren’t that special because they were always buzzing and tweeting around the deck.

Quite often, they would hover right above us and drink from the feeders as we sat there during the evening hours.

I still wasn’t impressed. Sure, they were neat and I liked to hear mom tell me about them, but hummingbirds and songbirds were boring to me. In fact, any of the birds that congregated around mom’s bird feeder fell into the “not-so-fascinating” category.

I didn’t see the point of watching them—peck and poop, feed and fly.

And then I started feeding birds at my own house last year.

BINGO!

I get it now. I like it and I’m hooked!

I find myself peering out the kitchen window more than a few times a day, checking out the feeders and seeing who has flown in for a visit.

I so was excited to see the Baltimore and Orchard Orioles make their appearance this year. I quickly sliced up an orange and stuck it on a hook for them.

The bird feeder quickly multiplied into bird feeders, along with suet and blocks of seed that the woodpeckers seem to enjoy. It’s more of a “bird feeding station” now.

A few bird houses were also installed around the yard for “my flock.”

Indeed, I now get the fascination of bird watching.

Last year, I was thrilled to see a sweet, little Indigo Bunting just a few times. He hasn’t returned this year, but he certainly was pretty and I am hopeful to see him again.

I had to smile earlier this year when Madeline and I passed the hummingbird feeders at TSC. She marveled at the pretty glass and bright plastic flower spouts.

I let her pick out her favorite one to take home and together, we filled it with sugar water and hung it by the patio door.

And when the day gets cooler and the sun begins to go down, we’re on the deck and the hummingbirds are buzzing. Suddenly, I find myself reciting all of that “bird knowledge” that my mom told me years ago to a wide-eyed little girl. She’s listening and learning about the beauty around us.

Yup, I get it now.

Storybook memories are in the mail each month

To me, there is nothing better than curling up in my recliner with a good book—and  my little Madeline.

In just a few months, “my baby” will be four years old.
I can’t even imagine how many books we’ve read or how many times we’ve read the same book over and over, and over again.
Some of her favorite selections have been delivered right to our mailbox through the Imagination Library of Tuscola County. In fact, Madeline was one of the first kids in Tuscola County to be signed up when it started here January 2009.
Each month, a new storybook, wrapped in shiny plastic, is placed in our mailbox. Her name is printed on the label, making it her very own.
She always spies it quickly.
“Is that for me? Is that my new book?”
Anticipation follows.
“Open it! Read it to me!”
We read it. We read it. We might even read it again.
Most importantly, we dig into the story. As we read, we create voices and growls, squeaks and screams—anything to make the story come alive. We count things in the pictures and discuss how the characters feel and act.
It works.
Very often, Madeline can be found with a book, “reading” it and reciting the general plot of the story in her own way.

Reading all of her Imagination Library books. She loved sorting them out for this photo.

Wilma, Wilma, Wilma… will it ever end?

Since I was a little girl, I have wanted to name my daughter Madeline. It was and still is, my favorite girl’s name. 

So naturally, when I had my daughter, I pitched the name Madeline to my husband and was very pleased that he liked it, as well.

At age three, my little Madeline is quite the character – mostly lovable, but sometimes a little stinker. 

The latest phase – one that doesn’t seem to be ending – is her interest in pretending that she is a dog.
She pads around the house on her hands and knees and barks when she is asked a question. And yes, she even pants and wiggles her hind end as though she has a tail to wag.
At first, it was kind of cute, so I indulged her little game and told her I would have to name my new little pup.
She loved that idea! “What’s my doggy name?” she asked.
“Wilma!” I blurted back, only because it was the first silly name that popped into my head.

And so, Wilma she became.

She informed me this weekend that Madeline had went away and that she would now only be Wilma. 

“Just call me Wilma,” she insisted. “Just Wilma.”

I pretended to cry and said that I only wanted my Madeline.
“Woof.”

I boo-hooed a little more.
“Woof. Woof.”

I got a little more dramatic about it.
She panted. “Woof. See my tongue? I’m Wilma. Woof.”

First thing Monday morning, she told my mom that she was Wilma and Madeline had left and wasn’t coming back.
My mom pretended to cry, explaining that she only wanted Madeline.
“Woof.”

It was no use.

For now, my daughter insists on being called Wilma wherever we go. She only briefly forgets about it when she is playing with her toys, coloring or decides that she’d rather walk upright and eat at the table like a person.

“Madeline” – even though it is the prettiest name in the world to me – is just not her name of choice at the moment.

Doggonit!

“Woof. Woof.”

"Wilma" and her real English Springer Spaniel, Chloe. Even Chloe doesn't know what to make of this new fad.

My kitchen has a new little boss girl

I used to have a kitchen. Then I had a daughter.

Although Madeline is only three, she’s not shy about telling me what’s up.. or down… or in her way… or anything, really.
The kid is assertive.
Some would say bossy. Some would say bratty.

I say, “That’s just Maddie.”

In about the last year or so, she has taken a shine to baking—not cooking, just baking. She likes to “help” with cookies, cupcakes, cakes (not orange) and anything else that we decide to whip up.
We refer to my stand mixer as “The Robot Mixer.”

When my “little Betty Crocker” first started to gain an interest in baking, my mom or I would say to Madeline, “Let’s make cookies. Will you help me?”

And of course, we—the adults—decided on the type of cookie or cupcake, etc.

Such is not the case any more.

Madeline will say “I want chocolate chip cookies.”

That is not open to negotiation.

If I decline and offer up another choice, chocolate chip cookies are immediately suggested again, and again.


Chocolate chip wins.

And do you know why chocolate chip wins?
Because it doesn’t matter. It’s a tiny battle that doesn’t need to be fought.
So what if we have enough batches of chocolate chip cookies to feed a small army? And so what if she wouldn’t let me frost a single sugar cookie even though I bought every conceivable color of sprinkles and sugars?

She informed me that sprinkles and sugars are “just for cupcakes.”

Silly me!

I’m just glad she likes to bake. I’m glad to spend time with her in the kitchen and I am glad that she is learning.
In time, I am sure I can convince her to make other kinds of cookies and try other kinds of cakes. But for now, chocolate chip and no bakes are her favorites. And daddy is okay with that.


And that’s ok by me, too.