View from the Prairie Box

I am luxuriating in my occupation.

At 4pm yesterday, the time when some cubicle dwellers are looking at their clocks and thinking “Only one more hour…”, I sat outside and watched my almost two year old blow bubbles. It was a shining moment, clear and full of meaning, where the beauty in my world almost overwhelmed me and I couldn’t help but be thankful for where the Lord has placed me. Blowing bubbles on a gorgeous Monday afternoon is definitely a perk of my job.

Another perk is the ability to throw out all the rules and have a little fun. This morning Livia ate Alpha Bits off the living room floor, joined me in eating a small mugful of M&Ms, and then got into a little summer fun on the last day of February. Results posted below.

Livia’s first three word sentence… at least as far as we know. The girl talks a LOT these days and sometime we have no clue what she’s saying. “I go away” was said while leaving Nana and Papa’s house last night.

I’ve got Hurricane Katrina on my mind. And Little House on the Prairie. Stick with me here.

I’ve been wondering how we (Christians in particular) can be helping the victims of Hurricane Katrina, what precisely we can do to aid fellow Americans who have no homes, no longterm plans, no pantries and no linen closets. Sometimes I wonder at what my own life would look like had I been living in New Orleans last fall. I also wonder what could’ve been done had folks known what the worst case scenario would look like.

Let’s jump now to the days of Laura Ingalls Wilder. People who lived on the prairies back then had to prepare for harsh winters; they had to grow summer gardens, can all the goods, and hope for decent harvests from their farms. They, due to sheer geography, had to be a fairly self-reliant lot — and still, people starved to death. Babies couldn’t be fed, medicines couldn’t be found, hardships were faced head on.

All these thoughts lead me to wonder about the current pandemic flu discussions. Granted, my dad is in a position of authority in the state of Nebraska where matters like these are concerned. I probably wouldn’t have thought twice about the topic if he wasn’t my dad. So here you have it. The experts in our country and around the world are saying, Prepare yourselves, the odds are good that a pandemic flu is coming.

The good news is that you can prepare yourself. Like Ma lining up rows of canned tomatoes before the first snow, we can all read up on the avian flu, wash our hands more frequently, stay home from work when sick, stockpile emergency supplies in the basement, and so on. I don’t mean to be an alarmist, in fact I don’t like even thinking about a pandemic. Frankly, my immune system isn’t doing so hot on a *good* day, so I can’t imagine how my body would handle an unknown virus. Still, if I had known a hurricane was a’comin to my hometown well ahead of time, I probably would’ve made plans for the safety of my family. That’s all I’m sayin’… The alternative is to bury your head in the sand.

(Try as I may, I just can’t imagine Ma saying, “Winter schminter! Who needs to can? The neighbors two farms over will take care of us if the blizzards come.” Can you?)

No, I didn’t win the Powerball jackpot.

Shucks.

Livia has three and a half years to go until she’s enrolled in any type of formal schooling, and yet here I am, getting all worked up over the notion of all day kindergarten in Lincoln Public Schools.

Right now most elementary schools in our city don’t have the space to open kindergarten classes from 8am to 3pm, but the day is coming when the entire school district will make this move. In fact, that day will most likely come in 2008… And Livia will start kindergarten in 2009. I am in no way thrilled at the idea of sending my small child into a classroom for six hours every day.

There’s a chance I’m just being stubborn here. Afterall, I went to pre-K and Kindergarten for half days only; it’s what I’m used to. But really, it’s more complicated than that. Young children are not developmentally prepared to be in school all day long – a good teacher knows this. Traditionally, it’s the kindergarten year that initiates a child into the schooling process and then they turn around and attend all day during the first grade year. The thing is that our society is based on daycare programs now and all day kindergarten looks to be a more productive way for five year olds to spend their time. I can’t argue with that perspective. If Livia was in full time childcare now, I might not sweat this all day kindergarten thing so much.

Still, I think all day school for kindergarten children is too much, too fast.

Some online studies seem to show that strong educational emphasis in kindergarten helps high-risk children succeed in successive grades. Other studies show no hard evidence that all day kindergarten is academically superior in the long run. What gets me even more frustrated is that I just called the LPS headquarters and asked for resources on the benefits of all day kindergarten. I was told that they didn’t have any information to send to me (why don’t they have a web page on this topic??), but that all day kindergarten has been proven to benefit all children in future grades. When I pressed further about how long these benefits lasted, I was told it was beneficial all the way through high school graduation. Sorry, LPS. I need solid proof that your programs are really necessary to our schoolkids. When it comes to my child(ren), I’m not going to simply buy the party line and then blindly follow along.

Some of you are probably thinking, Hello? Homeschool Livia! I may blog more on that very topic later, but at this point in time we want Livia to attend public school. Still, I have this itchy voice in the back of my mind wondering if this one issues bothers me so much right now, how many more issues will be taking control away from me as a parent in the future…

Anyone else crying in their ice cream over Grey’s Anatomy tonight?

I know, I know… I’m such a girl.

I am a planner by nature. Though I may enjoy a surprise birthday party here and there, by and large I like to be prepared for what’s coming. Just a few weeks ago I started asking experienced mamas for book recommendations on toilet training. Before I could do much more than that, Livia initiated the entire process. And as I now do some reading, I discover that there isn’t much in the way of profound advice when it comes to this topic.

So here we go, wheeeee! Off and running with little potties and pull-ups, new vocabulary words and enormous doses of cheering for seemingly simple duties… The adventures continue!

I have wanted to post more introspective, thoughtful blog entries in the past few weeks, but haven’t. I wanted to actually complete another book review, telling of how this book called Divided Minds gave tremendous insight into the world of schizophrenia, and how I’ll never again annoy my husband by confusing this mental illness with split personalities. I also wanted to write up a little review on Memoirs of a Geisha, and how I had ignored this book for sometime, probably because of misconceptions related to the occupation of geisha, and how the story was truly fascinating and somewhat sad as well. I wanted to say something about how strange it seemed to me that the main character never questioned the morality of being geisha, and how the religious beliefs of most Japanese at that time were far, far different from the beliefs of many in my own country. I’ve also wanted to spend some time blogging about this John Piper book I’m reading along with some women at church. So far it’s opened my mind to the suffering of saints who have gone before me, as well as taught me quite a bit about the nature of suffering on this earth. We just completed the book section on John Bunyan, and I’m reminded of how I’ve never read The Pilgrim’s Progress and how completing it should be a goal of mine this year.

And my reason for cramming all these potential blog posts into one little one?

My toddler.

My beautiful, bright, adorable toddler is sucking the lifeblood from me. (I’m only half-kidding.) Every ounce of extroverted energy within me is being tested by someone who is less than three feet tall and sometimes refers to me as “Becca.” She is still sweet. She still smiles brilliantly. She still utters cute sayings like, “Peese?” for please and “I buhped” for I burped, but oh my goodness, this child is testing me. She has now added to her repertoire of abilities actions like throwing her writhing body on the floor while shrieking with irritation, touching an off limits item and then shouting No-No! (or like at lunch today, attempting to bite my leg then yelling “No Bite!”), chucking her sippy cups as far as she can when she’s done with them, repeating “Ma” over and over and over and over and over until she’s actually driven me insane. And this is all by 9:17am, before Sesame Street has had the chance to come to my rescue. Suffice to say that by 6pm when Jeremy gets home, I’m ready to abandon my post. Some days the post is abandoned hours earlier mentally.

I am exhausted by this manic toddler action in my house.

Without these three things I don’t think I’d make it through this phase of motherhood in one piece… 1) Naptimes. Praise God for making these human bodies that need sleep, and baby bodies that need even more sleep! Napping allows me to nap, read, clean and generally chill out. 2) My dear friends and parents. Though I only have one child to raise (at this point), my loved ones give me moments of respite during my week—and I have no clue what I’d do if Mom couldn’t take us out to lunch or if Renae didn’t make time for tea. 3) My rock steady husband. Truly, I am a mess without him and still a mess with him… I’m amazed at how he’s continued to bless me even when I’m at my craziest. I especially love him for caring for Livia in the waking hours so I can get a few more minutes of waking up in a peaceful, lazy haze. There’s a lot of love and understanding in that one little action, Mr. Tredway. I do thank you!

Sometimes I feel like a wimp for being so worn by one very small child. But here it is, reality. This is a slice of my life, take or leave it. For now, I’m going to leave it. Naptime hours only stretch so long and, y-a-w-n, the couch is calling.