family treasure

For sure, the best part of Halloween in my mind is celebrating my beloved's grandmother's 80th birthday.  I could do without the goblins and definitely without the overabundance of sugary foodstuffs everywhere that sends everyone bouncing off the walls (for a short while, that is, before the inevitable blood sugar crash), but I'm all for treating Grandma to any and all manner of festivities and merriment. 

From our first meeting, Grandma has shown me unfailing kindness.  She is an inspiration to me every day as I go about the business of caring for my young family.  She's been where I am now.  Whenever I wonder how I can possibly manage to do this job, I think of the times I've heard Grandma's response to remarks to that effect with regard to how she did it.  "You just do," she always says.   

And she prays -- a lot.  Her Catholic faith is the cornerstone of her life.
  
Grandma's life's work has been focused on caring for her eight children, their children, and several friends who've become close like family.   She is ever gracious, quick to offer a reassuring or positive word, and obviously delights in the antics of her grandchildren and great-grandchildren. 

With a smile as radiant as the sun and a lifetime of wisdom to share, Grandma is truly a family treasure.  I hope she knows how deeply cherished and loved she is. 

pizza night

 We are homemade pizza aficionados here. The bambini do most of the work.

 

We start 'em young. 

 Aerating the dough.

quality control

The Leaning Tower of Pisa

(It's a good way to blow off some steam after school, this pizza dough kneading business.)

Dinner is served!

books for pun'kins

When someone floated the idea of going to a pumpkin patch a few years ago, my internal response was something like "why would I want to do that?!"  This kinda prissy, allergy-beleaguered mama had no interest in tromping around in a probably wet, muddy field sniffing pumpkins and mingling with livestock at a petting zoo.  No thanks.

We went anyway.  And it was so fun.  We go every year now.  The lads love climbing all over the stacks of pumpkins and examining each variety for its idiosyncrasies.  The elder lad -- to all our surprise -- likes to take his grandfather through the dimly-lit maze as many times as possible.  There are rabbits to feed, horses to ride, guinea hens to laugh at, and a veritable cornucopia of pumpkins, squash, and gourds, among them cucerbits, a word so cute when pronounced by a toddler.

Of course I try to find books to accompany most any of our present day circumstances, and this topic is no exception.  There are lots and lots of books of a pumpkin nature out there, some of which are much better than others based on my own subjective scale.

While it may be too late to request these books at the library in time for Halloween, here are some of our favorite books about pumpkins ...

Rollicking, rhyming The Runaway Pumpkin by Kevin Lewis, illustrated by S.D. Schindler, is my default pumpkin book.  Two boys and their sister (I can't help grafting my lads and 21-month-old lass onto these characters) discover an enormous pumpkin. In spite of their sister's warning to leave it alone, they cut it loose from its vine, which sets off a series of comedically catastrophic (but ultimately tasty) events for the family members in the pumpkin's path.  (No children or pumpkins are hurt in the course of this book.)   Kevin Lewis authored a few other favorites of ours, including My Truck is Stuck!, Chugga Chugga Choo Choo, and The Lot at The End of My Block.

When a man's favorite field goes up for sale, he sells nearly everything he has in order to buy and preserve it from development in Pumpkins: A Story for A Field by Mary Lyn Ray, illustrated by Barry Root.  He buys a packet of pumpkin seeds, plants them, and lets nature take its course.  At harvest time, he utilizes several modes of transportation (including a flying carpet) to ship the pumpkins worldwide and share with those unfamiliar with pumpkins some fun ideas for how to use the orange beauties.  Devoted to keeping the field free of "improvements", his pumpkin-aided mission has an obvious environmental message, but also one about greed (or lack thereof).  When it's time to plant pumpkins again and anticipate another handsome profit, the man instead gives the seeds away, in the hope that another field someplace else might benefit from the same care given by a similarly-minded person.

The Very Best Pumpkin, written by Marc Kimball Moulton, is a very sweet story.  Peter lives on a farm with his Mimi and Papa (which is what our bambini call my parents, by the way).  They grow strawberries, corn, and pumpkins.  Peter notices a vine trailing off on its own, and takes special care of the pumpkin at its end.  When the family opens their pumpkin patch up to visitors, he helps lots of pumpkins find the right homes, but he saves his special pumpkin.  One day a girl arrives with her family to pick a pumpkin.  They happen to be the new neighbors to Peter and his grandparents, having moved in over the summer.  The girl had spent the summer by herself reading and watching Peter tending the special pumpkin.  She thinks he didn't notice her, but he did, and he gives the pumpkin to her.  This is the beginning of a beautiful friendship.   Karen Hillard Good's illustrations are simply charming, reminiscent of American artist Mary Englebreit, but not quite as bright. 

Margaret McNamara's How Many Seeds in a Pumpkin? is a fun way to introduce or reinforce the mathematical concept of estimation (not one of my sharper skills).  The smallest boy in class is always last in line because his teacher lines them up tallest to smallest.  When the teacher gives the class an assignment to estimate the number of seeds in three pumpkins, one small, one medium, and one large, the lad is happily surprised at the results.  Illustrations are by G. Brian Karas, whose work appears in other favorites of ours including On Earth, Atlantic, The Class Artist, The Village Garage (all of which he wrote and illustrated), My Crayons Talk written by Patricia Hubbard, and Oh No, Gotta Go!, one of several bilingual books written by Susan Middleton Elya.

We've yet to make our annual trip to the pumpkin patch, but there's still time.  And these books (even Runaway Pumpkin) don't have to be put away after Halloween.  In fact, the less Halloween-y the pumpkin books, the better in my mind.  I'm not such a fan of the "holiday".  Were it not my beloved's dear and lovely grandmother's birthday, I might just opt to skip the observance all together (killjoy that I am).  The family  parlays the Halloween festivities into birthday celebrations for her, which has been a lot of fun.  The bambini are cooking up some creative and appropriate costumes for her 80th birthday this year.

With these books in our stash, this time of year is festive and fun for us and our little pun'kins.

home sweet home

The kindergartners in one of the classes at the elementary school where my beloved's mother teaches third grade are apparently studying transportation.  On one bulletin board, black construction paper cutouts of VW Beetle-shaped cars are affixed to pages that say "my car is going..."  Each child finished the sentence and drew a picture to match.  A few of the cars were going to McDonald's or outer space or someplace equally exciting.  Six of them, however, were going "home."

The centers in our elder lad's kindergarten classroom have a Halloween theme to them, but their pretend play center is called "home sweet home." 

As the heart of this home, I pray that my loved ones -- the ones who spend many of their waking hours away from home (at least on weekdays), those who are here with me all the sometimes live-long day, and those who visit for a little or a long while -- may find this place to be one of refuge, peace, and joy.

young squire

The 1996 movie That Thing You Do! is one of my favorites. I could probably recite the entire thing. It's the story of a one-hit wonder band from the 1960s comprised of four clean cut, fresh faced young men. Their manager is portrayed by Tom Hanks (who also wrote the movie). He sees to it that they project an image of being "nice boys" (except maybe for the drummer, who is probably actually the nicest guy of them all).

Once they've made it big with their one hit, they're flown out to the west coast for some publicity maneuvers and recording. The porter at the hotel addresses them as "young squires." He treats them with respect and civility, in a way revealing his expectation of their behavior in return as living up to a certain standard.

My father addresses our lads "young squires," as does my beloved now. It's an appeal to the lads' love of a challenge and their budding understanding of character, integrity, and virtues. It has a profound and positive effect on the lads. They want to be young squires.

As we endeavor to raise these lads to be the men Christ calls each of them to be, many fine examples of honorable men to whom they can look for guidance in the family around them, family friends, and the saints help pave the way. How richly blessed the lads are for such men in their lives. I am humbly grateful for them myself.

soundbytes

Elder lad, throwing a nickel in a wishing well on a solo outing with his grandparents:
"I wish my brother would be a good brother to me.
I wish my sister would be a good sister to me.
I wish my sissy would be a good sissy to me.
And I wish I would be a good brother to all those guys."

Younger lad, from the backseat of the same grandparents' car as they left our house en route to the zoo:
"Mama looks so tiny!"
(I'm not tiny -- I was just far away from him by then as I stood on the driveway and waved good-bye.)

Lass, in reference to a scrape on her shin from a few weeks ago that healed quickly but has left a little scar:
"Boo boo healing.  So happy."

The raven-haired lass is finding her voice and adding a delightful dimension of babbles and coos to the conversation -- when she can get a word in edgewise.

all star

These brown Converse All Stars are on their third child.  Don't they look nice with pink monkey jammies?  They're a little faded from lots of washing, but that gives them a kind of character you just can't get fresh out of the shoe box from Zappos.  I remember thinking how huge they looked on the elder lad's foot when he first wore them as a toddler.  I'm not sure they'll hold up for the fourth child, as they are starting to come apart in a few places, but we'll sure try.  Her brothers and sister would all get a kick out of seeing her wear them.