This, THIS!, is the part of parenting that I adore. Whereas I’m completely obsessed with appearances when it comes to public tantrums and fits, I’m the kind of mom who thinks a huge noggin covered by teeny green glasses is hilarious. Last Thursday Liv wore a pair of yellow ones (perhaps belonging to Mrs. Potato Head) into HyVee. This girls cracks me up.
* Friday night saw the addition of the newest Tredway to our household. (In order to do this properly, I’ll add photos later.) I would like to introduce the world to: Betta “Goldfish” Tredway. He’s blue, has fins, and lives in a water-filled glass bowl. What’s not to love? Thanks to Grandma and Grandpa, Livia’s passion is now a reality.
* By Saturday morning the main floor of my house was sparkly clean and filled with a bevy of lovely women, and a few good men, celebrating the impending arrival of Baby Girl Lawton. Kristin’s belly is growing delightfully and we’re all eagerly awaiting the day we get to hold this child in our arms. I can’t quite find the words to express how thrilled I am to become an aunt for the first time… Suffice to say I feel duty-bound to purchase every cute pink item I see for sale. Isn’t that what an aunt’s supposed to do?
* After a busy weekend (which also contained Miami Vice and a great martini bridal shower, separately of course), Sunday worship at Zion was food for my hungry soul. For the first time in a long while, we attended the late service and I found the music to be incredibly worshipful. What I both like and dislike about the late service is that it’s very well-attended. The sheer mass of voices made chorus and hymn singing feel like we were blowing the roof off with praises to the Eternal King — it filled my heart with joy at a time where I felt somewhat lacking in the joy category. I want to throw out a big bloggy thank you to Karen Choi who continuously labors to lead and make music at Zion. Thanks, Karen. You do a wonderful job week in, week out, and we all appreciate you.
* Finally, sweetly, delightfully, a Sunday evening walk through the neighborhood. Anyone else LOVING the lightweight August temps we’re experiencing in Lincoln? A little downtime with Jeremy, Livia and a few pb&j’s wrapped up the weekend in a very peaceful kind of way.
John Rosemond’s parenting column in the Lincoln Journal Star:
One does not have to teach antisocial beahvior to toddlers. They are by nature violent, deceitful, destructive, rebellious and prone to sociopathic rages if they do not get their way. Example: A 2-year-old who has never experienced, witnessed, or even heard described an act of violence will slap his mother across the face or bite her most accessible body part if she dares deny him a cookie and then ventures too close to his tantrum. Toddlers are convinced that the rules do not apply to them, that they are under no obligation to obey legitimate authority, that in fact is is they who are to be obeyed. It is surely a measure of either God’s mercy or the purposefulness of evolution that unlike other mammals, human beings to do not grow to full size in one or two years.
Socializing the toddler is the Single Biggest Challenge of Parenthood.
Hallelujah! Someone understands my life!!! Thank you, Mr. Rosemond, for a healthy dose of empathy and encouragement during the exact moment I need it most.
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She Got Up Off the Couch, by Haven Kimmel
The couch in the den was the color the crayon people called Flesh even thought it resembled no human or animal flesh on Planet Earth, and the couch fabric was nubbled in a pattern of diamonds. It was best to prevent the nubbles from coming into direct contact with one’s real Flesh, so there was usually a blanket or a towel or clothing spread out as a buffer. Also no one wanted to pick up the blanket, the towel, and the clothing and fold them. Or even pick them up. So it was a fine arrangement.
This book is Kimmel’s follow-up to her earlier memoir A Girl Named Zippy. The author is hilariously detailed in recording her childhood memories and I’ve enjoyed this set of memories as much as the last. I’m not yet halfway through the book, so I’ve got more to go, but one story in particular about her father’s encounter with a nest of rats had me laughing out loud. Good stuff.
Every mom knows she should worry when it gets quiet in the house. After a few minutes of dead quiet, I rounded the kitchen corner to find my daughter. And there she was, lips painted ever so slightly with Burt’s Bees Nutmeg Lip Shimmer. Her left hand clutched the exposed tube of chapstick, her right hand held the cap, and between her sparkling white baby teeth was chunk of Nutmeg. Niiiiice. After last night’s hairbrush-caught-in-her-teeth fiasco (truly priceless, yet unphotographed), I knew I couldn’t pass up the opportunity to snap a shot for the blog.
Grrr… I’m trying to figure out how to place my Flickr pics onto my blog in the right size. Anyone have a suggestion for me? Help!
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Keith, thanks for the help!
I’m new at this Flickr thing and, as my husband well knows, I tend to be slow to change. I was reluctant to start blogging and I’m still dragging my feet with Flickr. I like the idea of Flickr but it kind of freaks me out a bit, too. I feel much more in control of my photographs here on the Prairie Box (what is there to control? you might wonder, rightly so). I’m not too fond of the idea of random and unknown bloggers posting my pictures, but then again, I’ve never been much of a group project person when it comes to creative assignments. Also, I admit I’m totally intimidated when it comes to the a-ma-zing photography on Flickr. Instead of propelling me to go and do likewise, I feel like giving up this hobby because so many people are so much better at it than I am. Silly, but true. Anyhow, Renae’s been after me for a long time to get aboard the Flickr train. So here I am… With a Pro Account on my birthday/Christmas wishlist.
Dear Livia,
Even though earlier today I told your Uncle Adam that I just may have the worst job in the world, I was wrong. This photo shows why I have the best job in the world. It may perhaps be the hardest job as well, but smiles like these go a long way in easing the stress of it all. You are in the middle of the toddler testing phase and I can’t even count how many times you were forced onto the Naughty Spot this past week. This discipline gig is not an easy one, especially when you say “I’m sorry” before you even make it to the Spot for two minutes. I still don’t like it when you cry, but I’ve discovered I don’t like it at all when you do things like throw your chicken nuggets on the floor at Burger King (or bite Mommy in unbloggable locations, or chuck your sippy off your highchair, etc etc etc). But the smiles and hugs and sweet caresses you’ve recently been giving, those lovely things make my job the most beautiful one imaginable.
Love,
Mama
Remember this blushing bride of a year ago? Well, today’s her birthday.
The Tredways love you, Nae Nae! Happy birthday!
Blogging is a strange medium that has great potential for allowing misperceptions and miscommunication to run rampant. To put it bluntly, you may not really know me if you only read my blog. Like any other blogger, I pick and choose what I post in this space and my readers get a very skewed version of Rebecca Tredway because of my picking and choosing. Recently I’ve had numerous conversations with close friends about the oddness of blogging. Sometimes a blogger’s voice truly shines through his words, and at other times a blogger’s posts don’t reflect his personality at all. I’ve heard of bloggy crushes that have developed based on a perception that is far removed from reality, and I myself have quit reading blogs because my own perceptions created frustration and irritation with the particular blogger.
All in all, I think there needs to be a lot of grace issued in the blogging world. Grace to understand that messages recorded in print may not tell the full story, that comments listed may not truly reflect one’s heart, and that each item posted simply records a moment in time, that the blogger herself may change her mind on the same topic tomorrow.
Finally, these conversations with friends (in particular, one with my dear friend Sarah late last night) have pushed me to question, why blog? Here’s the best answer I’ve come up with…
I blog for three reasons. One, blogging is a fabulous creative outlet. I’m able to combine two passions — writing and photography — into one small space on the web. Sentences have a way of composing themselves in my head, and if I’m smart enough to record them quickly, I end up having great fun with words. I have loved to twist, turn, manipulate and create with the English language as long as I remember. Most everything I write here is factually true, but I admit I take a writer’s liberty with the telling of it. As a child I’d hear my mom relating a story on the phone and I’d think, Wait! She’s not telling it right!! The truth was that my mother was telling her own story, complete with the nuances important to her. That’s exactly what I do here. Okay, back to my three reasons for blogging. The second reason I blog is that The Prairie Box is my personal Soap Box — it’s my chance to speak my opinion freely on matters like breastfeeding, public schooling, child advocacy and politics. In the same manner, I can give personal opinions on movies, books and television programs. Lastly and most recently, blogging has become my kid’s scrapbook. I am far too perfectionistic to create decent scrapbooks by hand, but the blog allows me to post photos and memories of Livia’s baby years. (Many a time I’ve wanted to retitle the blog, “The Livia Project” since it’s mostly about her!)
Any thoughts on all this? Why do YOU blog?
