In these videos, we have crashing presents, missed present openings, nose picking, and full memory cards. Not our best moments in filmography....
Nonetheless, we offer them for your perusal. Enjoy.
This last one shows her newfound love - the purse Andie and Connor gave to her...
Sunday, April 26, 2009
Friday, April 24, 2009
Happy Birthday To You!
So today Mary Jeanne (which I've started calling you a lot lately) you turn two years old. I just went back and read last year's birthday blog and I am amazed by how much (and how quickly) we forget things. I just pains me to think of all the things that I've already lost in your first two years - every day is filled with moments of surprise and delight and these moments are covered with the a soft dusting of the next hour, the next day the next month. This blog is a sort of excavation tool for you when you're older, to sweep away the passing of time and help you see who you were (and therefore are).
MJ you are joyful, loud, loving, funny. You're talking more everyday. My favorite is whenever I ask you about something you're not interested in (or have no reason to know), you tell me "I don't know." And you'll look at me like I'm a lunatic. For example, you were playing nicely with your new dolls from Katie and I asked you if Seamus went out into the yard. You chimed "I don't know" and then if you knew how to roll your eyes, I'm sure you would have.
One thing I'm already confident about - you will not be short on personality (though you probably will be short). For your birthday post, I'll call it spunk. At the end of a long day, I usually call it something else.
You are a cuddler. In the mornings, you like to wedge yourself in between dad and I. Sometimes you like to rub backs and snuggle other times you want to play. You've got a great laugh. I love to listen to your voice, especially in the morning and especially when you're giggly.
You do genuinely love your brothers. They are your favorite source for tormenting (I would have thought it the other way around). This morning Katie stopped over to give you your present (which you are now wearing and actively playing with - a set of wooden dolls and some wonderful new clothes). While Katie and I were talking, Seamus was trying to linger and get some attention from Kate. You came and grabbed his hand and dragged him back to play with you in the sun room. He obeyed (as he usually does in your case) and we didn't get to see what you had in mind for him, but I love that you all play together. When I got you dressed in Kate's new outfit, purple shirt and khaki shorts, Finn was also changing and he announced that "You look really beautiful MJ." And then you twirled. I love the idea of developing self worth and self confidence from your older brothers (and they from you).
They cheer you on in all your toddler endeavors (sitting on the potty, riding a bike, playing catch, drawing at the kitchen table). Each day is filled with moments of the boys yelling "Good job, MJ." "MJ you're getting so big." I hope this continues and I'm sure that at times it will waver, but maybe then we can come back to these words and remind ourselves how much more joy we get by being good to each other. At two years old there is nothing you love more than your brothers.
I was thinking this morning about being at the hospital - I was induced because you were overdue. I felt great, but I was ready to meet you. We were all ready for you to come into our lives. When we got to the hospital, Dr. Jaeger wanted to break my water right away. In my previous experience (I'd been induced with Finn and with Seamus they had to break my water to keep things moving), water breaking equals serious contractions. I told the doctor firmly (and she's not a woman who people usually argue with) that I'd happily start the pitocin and whatever else they wanted to do to get labor moving, but that I wanted some time to have a nap, read my magazine before "real" labor started. I told her that this was going to be my last chance to have a nap and be alone with my husband for a while and we wanted to enjoy it. And we did. two hours later she broke my water. An hour and a half after that - they rested you on my chest for the first time. Life changed for us in that instant. You expect to feel different the first time you hold your child, but you can never fully articulate how much 7 pounds can change who you are. It's happened with all three kids - the ground sort of shift underneath you when you feel the weight of what God's just given you. It is a moment of great gratitude.
We just got back from a lunch date with Dad. You told everyone who asked that you were 3. I hope you can resist growing up any faster than you already are. You ordered fruit and yogurt and waved and smiled at all the people we saw. It's funny to see you be shy - you are so much more of a clown at heart.
We had a birthday party for you, Grandpa Dan and Aunt Mary last Sunday. You were given some wonderful presents (horses seemed to be a a happy theme for you and of course the tinkerbell costume - NOT a princess costume - Dad feels very strongly about this point) and we watched old movie from when all the Schneeman's were younger (but not necessarily better looking). We had brats and lots of macaroni and cheese (compliments of MJ the grander). Three cakes and lots of fun. Uncle Nick commented that it's almost no fun when the two year old doesn't melt down on her birthday. I disagreed. It was lovely.
What else can I tell you about yourself? You are very into your "babies". Grandma Mj gave you a little stroller for them and so far it goes everywhere with you. We all took a walk earlier this week and after you tired of pushing your stroller, you picked it up and held it in your lap in our running stroller. This reminds me that I need to take a picture of the Waldvogel's hand me down running stroller. It is such a part of the fabric of our lives - during the summer we used it several times a day. It's carried groceries, booze, kids and sticks all around the neighborhood. One day, when we are done with it, I think I'll have it bronzed.You love Curious George. Do all children? We read about George everyday. You love to answer the questions from one of the board books. "Are you curious?" "Do you ever feel happy?" "Or scared? "Or proud?" "Have you ever been naughty?" "Are you mischievous?" You love to yell "Yes!" and giggle. You are so many things. You're napping now. Sweet dreams, little girl.
I love asking you if you know who I love. You raise your hand above your head and yell "Me!" It's true. I do. Happy birthday.Wednesday, April 15, 2009
Spring in His Step (all the way to the golf course)
Today, your grandpa Dan turns 77 and as the best birthday present of the day, it looks like it will be almost as warm as he is old. Seamus, you sang him happy birthday before he ran out to play tennis with grandma (they don't play against each other - they each have their own tennis groups that sometimes play at the same time). After tennis he's got a Cretin event - so he'll get to socialize with some of his friends from high school - I think it's lunch and maybe mass. After that, he'll scoot home to pick up grandma and they're heading out to play 18 holes of golf. After golf he'll have a cocktail with grandma and then she's making him liver and onions for dinner (his absolute favorite meal - BLEEEEECK!). Maybe he'll listen to the Twins game on the radio. He'll probably walk through the yard and check out what's starting to emerge. And at the end of it all, I bet he'll sleep soundly. Not a bad day in the life.
I have the lovely blessing of being able to see and talk to Grandma and Grandpa often and you kids love to stop over for lunch or a romp in the yard. I seem to find excuses to get over there - computer issues, copying the lake checkbook, booking a flight, stealing firewood and sometimes with no real reason at all. I love this (and it gives me infinite pleasure that you do too).
We've all been talking about the lake a lot lately. Grandma and grandpa are dealing with an attorney who is helping them put the lake into a form that will help it survive as a long term retreat for the whole family. I've gotten caught up in the minutia of this lately - writing notes, collecting questions, meetings and planning. And it wasn't until a few days ago that the generosity of this whole experience caught up with me.
On a sort of ridiculous lark in the 70s, Grandma and Grandpa bought a run down fishing resort with some good friends, the Tickles. It was a sacrifice and a reach for them, but they had a vision for how it might all turn out. As time went on the Tickles were bought out and the Schneeman brood took over all 7 cabins. This was fortuitous because the children were rapidly starting to produce large families of their own. Without this leap of faith, I would guess that the present would look very different for all of us. First of all, I'm guessing that these grandchildren's weddings wouldn't have to be so large.
For 20 some years, all your aunts and uncle have been helping cover the costs of the cabin, and as time has gone on some of the amounts have really started to add up. Our parents modeled sacrifice, hard work, and forward thinking. They also show us that you have to have courage, a little faith in yourself and your family and a little luck isn't anything at which to laugh. And so for their generous contributions (with no guarantee or real hope of return) and lots of sweat-equity, they spent weeks with their little kids staying and fixing up the small cabins, reading on the beach, hiking through the woods, and watching the cousins grow up together from diapers and army guys to diamond rings and grown up jobs.
And so once again, Grandma and Grandpa are modeling forward thinking for us. They are in good health, more active than most 20 year olds, and yet they are thinking about what will happen to the lake when they are gone. It is valuable to them in many ways - emotionally, financially, and as a legacy. And in the course of talking about what the future looks like at the lake, how we'll schedule and share, how we'll accommodate even larger families, I was struck by the realization that this is again an act of faith and generosity - even larger than the first.
We've known that this juggling act of keeping the lake solvent and everyone happy has not always been easy for my parents, and so for the last few years we've focused on how to relieve the stress and sort out a long term plan for them (and the lake). I think they are happy to be near the end of this long discussion.
What I realized recently though, is that this never had to be a stressful thing for my parents. They could have sold the place ages ago. The only thing that ever caused stress was their desire to keep the cabin for us, to find ways to help us work together. A beautiful, one of a kind property is not something a retired couple needs to feel stressed about - it is a goldmine. They've carried this periodic worry because they want good things for their children, and the lake is the "goodest" of good things.
They are sharing this place with us, not because it is the best thing for them, but because they believe it is the best thing for us. I will remember this lesson. I will try and earn this gift. I hope, above all things, that your dad and I honor it with our words and our actions. I hope that someday, you will look on some of the things that your dad and I have modeled for you and feel proud like I am of my parents. It's a high goal, but my parents taught me well.
Happy Birthday, Dad. Thanks for the gifts. I know you enjoy yours.
I have the lovely blessing of being able to see and talk to Grandma and Grandpa often and you kids love to stop over for lunch or a romp in the yard. I seem to find excuses to get over there - computer issues, copying the lake checkbook, booking a flight, stealing firewood and sometimes with no real reason at all. I love this (and it gives me infinite pleasure that you do too).
We've all been talking about the lake a lot lately. Grandma and grandpa are dealing with an attorney who is helping them put the lake into a form that will help it survive as a long term retreat for the whole family. I've gotten caught up in the minutia of this lately - writing notes, collecting questions, meetings and planning. And it wasn't until a few days ago that the generosity of this whole experience caught up with me.
On a sort of ridiculous lark in the 70s, Grandma and Grandpa bought a run down fishing resort with some good friends, the Tickles. It was a sacrifice and a reach for them, but they had a vision for how it might all turn out. As time went on the Tickles were bought out and the Schneeman brood took over all 7 cabins. This was fortuitous because the children were rapidly starting to produce large families of their own. Without this leap of faith, I would guess that the present would look very different for all of us. First of all, I'm guessing that these grandchildren's weddings wouldn't have to be so large.
For 20 some years, all your aunts and uncle have been helping cover the costs of the cabin, and as time has gone on some of the amounts have really started to add up. Our parents modeled sacrifice, hard work, and forward thinking. They also show us that you have to have courage, a little faith in yourself and your family and a little luck isn't anything at which to laugh. And so for their generous contributions (with no guarantee or real hope of return) and lots of sweat-equity, they spent weeks with their little kids staying and fixing up the small cabins, reading on the beach, hiking through the woods, and watching the cousins grow up together from diapers and army guys to diamond rings and grown up jobs.
And so once again, Grandma and Grandpa are modeling forward thinking for us. They are in good health, more active than most 20 year olds, and yet they are thinking about what will happen to the lake when they are gone. It is valuable to them in many ways - emotionally, financially, and as a legacy. And in the course of talking about what the future looks like at the lake, how we'll schedule and share, how we'll accommodate even larger families, I was struck by the realization that this is again an act of faith and generosity - even larger than the first.
We've known that this juggling act of keeping the lake solvent and everyone happy has not always been easy for my parents, and so for the last few years we've focused on how to relieve the stress and sort out a long term plan for them (and the lake). I think they are happy to be near the end of this long discussion.
What I realized recently though, is that this never had to be a stressful thing for my parents. They could have sold the place ages ago. The only thing that ever caused stress was their desire to keep the cabin for us, to find ways to help us work together. A beautiful, one of a kind property is not something a retired couple needs to feel stressed about - it is a goldmine. They've carried this periodic worry because they want good things for their children, and the lake is the "goodest" of good things.
They are sharing this place with us, not because it is the best thing for them, but because they believe it is the best thing for us. I will remember this lesson. I will try and earn this gift. I hope, above all things, that your dad and I honor it with our words and our actions. I hope that someday, you will look on some of the things that your dad and I have modeled for you and feel proud like I am of my parents. It's a high goal, but my parents taught me well.
Happy Birthday, Dad. Thanks for the gifts. I know you enjoy yours.
Monday, April 13, 2009
Friday, April 10, 2009
Sunshine, Vacation & the Sabbath
I've had a hard time posting lately. Actually, I've had a hard time sitting down at the computer without wasting time, so I've been avoiding the office as much as possible. This also means that I haven't been doing any writing lately, which is never good.
But I did get away to Florida with James for three days and had a lovely little break. We went to Orlando (James had a conference) NOT to Disney. I have to be very careful that Seamus doesn't think we went to Disney without him (which, actually we did), but let's try and keep up appearances.
The kids spent one night with Grandma and Grandpa Schneeman which was the first time they've gotten to do this and had a lovely time. They went to several parks including Wentworth (the park of my childhood) and the Como Zoo. They had baths with jets (finally Finn isn't afraid of the tub) and grandma's famous Mac & Cheese. MJ learned the word Darnit - thanks mom - and apparently carried her "baby" around the entire stay. She also slept soundly in between Grandma and Grandpa all night (I'm guessing they slept less soundly). In the morning Grandma was still in bed, grandpa was reading the paper and MJ was apparently roaming the house unsupervised when she came and woke Grandma up.
Grandma: "MJ, are you pooey?"
MJ: "Yep."
Grandma: "Go find Grandpa."
MJ: "Yep."
Feet padding out of the room and down the stairs.
Find grandpa. Wafting nasty smell.
Grandpa changes her.
Success!
The boys apparently lived in the backyard and my dad kept saying to me that he couldn't believe how well they play together. He said he didn't remember playing with his brothers like that as a child. I reminded him that he and his brothers tricked their mom into thinking that George had stabbed him with a kitchen knife, so maybe it was best they didn't play together too much.
Carl and Meg spent the second two nights at our house getting a taste of their future. I think they are pretty happy that they are not having triplets, but I think they also had a good time. We talked to them on the phone several times and both Carl and Meg sounded like old pros. James and I laughed about it a lot - Meg using her teacher voice and Carl using his oldest boy voice. Their kids don't stand a chance for getting into any trouble.
We really appreciated this chance to get away (I didn't realize how badly James and I needed some time on our own until we actually got it). It is very nice to have an uninterrupted conversation once in a while. But the truth is that even for only three days, we missed the kids terribly (honestly) and were happy to be home. We feel so lucky to have all this family around (and willing to help). Thanks Mom and Dad, Carl and Meg!
While on vacation James and I talked a lot about what behaviors we model and want to model for the kids. It got us thinking about making bigger commitments, aiming higher than we do right now. There are so many books out right now about people who give up, or try something new for one calendar year, for example eating totally local foods, not buying anything new, or trying to follow every rule of the bible. There is something admirable about a commitment like this, but it is probably also a little deceptive too (I'd give up a lot of things for a book deal).
But this conversation did lead us to think about living more simply, more thoughtfully. Especially as the kids get older is seems so easy to get caught in the act of trying to keep up or compete. One thing that we're trying to do (since the beginning of Lent) is keep the Sabbath a day of rest and family.
It seems to me that we often equate "busy" with productive, and the truth seems to be less certain. What am I busy with? Does it really matter? Who am I serving? Who am I neglecting? Is my time more related to my things? Or to people?
So now on Sundays, we're trying to focus only on going to Church, talking walks with the family, reading (and napping) with the kids and having a nice, early family dinner in the evening. We found that in the past the jobs around the house, errands or events, made it so that by Sunday night instead of feeling rested we sat down feeling overwhelmed by the week. No matter how much you get done, it never seems like a enough. I never get to the end of my list. The laundry is never finished because none of our children stay clean for longer than three seconds.
So instead of continuing to run inside the wheel like a hamster, we're trying (focus on "trying" because it doesn't always work - I had a meeting last Sunday) to use Sunday to remind ourselves what's really important. Sometimes what's really important is complicated. What if what is keeping you racing around is for the benefit of other people (fixing family computers, making meals, visiting the elderly)? How do you find balance? We recognize that as the kids get older and have their own schedules, this idea will be harder to enforce and yet probably all the more important. If we can't do it now, we'll have no hope of doing it when the kids are involved in sports and more activities.
Life is trial and error, but it is also surprise and blessing.
More later!
But I did get away to Florida with James for three days and had a lovely little break. We went to Orlando (James had a conference) NOT to Disney. I have to be very careful that Seamus doesn't think we went to Disney without him (which, actually we did), but let's try and keep up appearances.
The kids spent one night with Grandma and Grandpa Schneeman which was the first time they've gotten to do this and had a lovely time. They went to several parks including Wentworth (the park of my childhood) and the Como Zoo. They had baths with jets (finally Finn isn't afraid of the tub) and grandma's famous Mac & Cheese. MJ learned the word Darnit - thanks mom - and apparently carried her "baby" around the entire stay. She also slept soundly in between Grandma and Grandpa all night (I'm guessing they slept less soundly). In the morning Grandma was still in bed, grandpa was reading the paper and MJ was apparently roaming the house unsupervised when she came and woke Grandma up.
Grandma: "MJ, are you pooey?"
MJ: "Yep."
Grandma: "Go find Grandpa."
MJ: "Yep."
Feet padding out of the room and down the stairs.
Find grandpa. Wafting nasty smell.
Grandpa changes her.
Success!
The boys apparently lived in the backyard and my dad kept saying to me that he couldn't believe how well they play together. He said he didn't remember playing with his brothers like that as a child. I reminded him that he and his brothers tricked their mom into thinking that George had stabbed him with a kitchen knife, so maybe it was best they didn't play together too much.
Carl and Meg spent the second two nights at our house getting a taste of their future. I think they are pretty happy that they are not having triplets, but I think they also had a good time. We talked to them on the phone several times and both Carl and Meg sounded like old pros. James and I laughed about it a lot - Meg using her teacher voice and Carl using his oldest boy voice. Their kids don't stand a chance for getting into any trouble.
We really appreciated this chance to get away (I didn't realize how badly James and I needed some time on our own until we actually got it). It is very nice to have an uninterrupted conversation once in a while. But the truth is that even for only three days, we missed the kids terribly (honestly) and were happy to be home. We feel so lucky to have all this family around (and willing to help). Thanks Mom and Dad, Carl and Meg!
While on vacation James and I talked a lot about what behaviors we model and want to model for the kids. It got us thinking about making bigger commitments, aiming higher than we do right now. There are so many books out right now about people who give up, or try something new for one calendar year, for example eating totally local foods, not buying anything new, or trying to follow every rule of the bible. There is something admirable about a commitment like this, but it is probably also a little deceptive too (I'd give up a lot of things for a book deal).
But this conversation did lead us to think about living more simply, more thoughtfully. Especially as the kids get older is seems so easy to get caught in the act of trying to keep up or compete. One thing that we're trying to do (since the beginning of Lent) is keep the Sabbath a day of rest and family.
It seems to me that we often equate "busy" with productive, and the truth seems to be less certain. What am I busy with? Does it really matter? Who am I serving? Who am I neglecting? Is my time more related to my things? Or to people?
So now on Sundays, we're trying to focus only on going to Church, talking walks with the family, reading (and napping) with the kids and having a nice, early family dinner in the evening. We found that in the past the jobs around the house, errands or events, made it so that by Sunday night instead of feeling rested we sat down feeling overwhelmed by the week. No matter how much you get done, it never seems like a enough. I never get to the end of my list. The laundry is never finished because none of our children stay clean for longer than three seconds.
So instead of continuing to run inside the wheel like a hamster, we're trying (focus on "trying" because it doesn't always work - I had a meeting last Sunday) to use Sunday to remind ourselves what's really important. Sometimes what's really important is complicated. What if what is keeping you racing around is for the benefit of other people (fixing family computers, making meals, visiting the elderly)? How do you find balance? We recognize that as the kids get older and have their own schedules, this idea will be harder to enforce and yet probably all the more important. If we can't do it now, we'll have no hope of doing it when the kids are involved in sports and more activities.
Life is trial and error, but it is also surprise and blessing.
More later!
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