It’s been awhile since I last posted, and thought it was time for an update. Ellie ended up not going to college as planned. She is staying home and taking classes online due to the Covid-19 thing that you might have heard about. My first thought when plans changed was, “What about our promise to Malia that she would get her own room this year?” My 9 year old was supposed to take the college student’s room when she moved out. Now what?
Much to my surprise, my 17 year old offered to give up her room and share with her 6 year old sister. Why? I have no idea.
I think she was feeling sorry for me and wanted to help. We all live for these rare moments when our kids surprise us.
Here are a few pics of how the switching of bedrooms turned out. I wish I would have taken some “before” pics, but unfortunately I wasn’t that organized. This all came together rather quickly. So….here are the finished rooms.
Malia’s Room. (this room used to be bright red, blue, and yellow. I wish I would have taken before pictures)
Malia’s vision was “black and white with fake plants”Here is Tabby and Ivy’s new room. Colors chosen were pastel blue, yellow, and pink. All the furniture we already had but was painted new colors. The bunk beds were the largest piece to paint. I also need to remind myself for future that this used to be Mark and my room so all of our furniture and clothing had to be moved before Tabby could get started. Tabby did the entire room from start to finish. Desk area. My favorite part of the room. Photo Collage (one of several)reading corner. notice the lights, fake greens, flowers and paper cranes hung across the ceiling. It looks much cooler in person than in photos.
Having every person in our family of 6 switch bedrooms (except Ellie) was a huge undertaking, but I’m really glad we did it. I will show you Mark and my room in a future post.
We moved to St Paul 8 years ago. I’ve been wanting to recount the story of how we ended up here. I need to be reminded of how God takes care of us.
Our first house in the Twin Cities was an upper duplex rental in South Minneapolis. It was home for 5 years. I slowly grew to love the city after living in a small town up until that point. My oldest announced as we drove onto the freeway into Minneapolis, “I was born to be a city girl!”
Driving on freeways was the biggest change. I found a job teaching piano lessons in St Paul and the short drive from Mpls to St Paul always left me with stiff shoulders and a sore back. I would clench the steering wheel and hold my breathe as I anticipated the dreaded lane changes. For a period of time, when we didn’t have a car and I learned to ride the metro transit, another experience that felt monumental at the time. The city began to feel like our new home. I loved meeting people with different cultures and beliefs than me. I loved trying foods from around the world, experiencing art through museums, theater, and the orchestra.
As we reached year 5 in Minneapolis, we began to run out of money. It was a confusing period in our marriage and job situation and it became clear that it was again time for a change . One thing I’ve realized is that I don’t usually gravitate toward change unless it is forced upon me. Hardships can be the catalyst for making necessary changes.
That whole decision to not renew our lease on the Minneapolis duplex is still a bit foggy to me. It was a very unsettling season that I never want to repeat. My three girls, ages 10, 8, and 1 and I, moved to Marshall, MN to live with my parents while Mark stayed in Minneapolis on a friend’s couch, working a new job in order to save enough money for us to rent a new place that fall.
That whole summer apart ended up being a blessing in disguise. Everyday, we would go on walks, to the pool, rummage sales, and Camden State Park. The extended time with my parents was just what my girls and I needed.
Our goal was to move to St Paul by September so that I could continue teaching piano and the kids could start school. August came and there was no housing in our price range. I spent my days feeling a rising sense of panic as I scoured the internet for affordable rentals for a family of 5.
Finally, near the end of August, I saw a 4 bedroom house for rent pop up on Craigslist. We looked at it and immediately felt a “Yes!” It was the only house I could find even close to what we were looking for. It felt like a miracle.
Looking back, I feel this house was hand-picked for us. The neighbors, the art house down the street, the theater experiences, the schools, and all the places that have become home.
First Easter in St Paul And we added Ivy to our family to make 6!
I know what uncertainty feels like. With Covid-19 looming over us, we don’t know what life will look like a month from now or 6 months from now. I’m glad I can look back on God’s faithfulness in our move to St Paul and all the little and big ways we have been taken care of since then. I have to keep believing the best. It’s the only way through.
When I was a child, Christmas did not involve gifts or Santa Claus. We didn’t even have a tree. We hung ornaments from the curtains. At the time, I didn’t think much of it except for when The nice cashier trying to make conversation at the store asked “What did Santa bring you this year?” While my classmates were getting Nintendos and giant LEGO sets, my siblings and I got tootsie roll banks and socks. Before you start feeling sorry for me, I will assure you that Christmas was THE best day of my year.
My most vivid memory was traveling to small town Appleton, MN. My Dad comes from a family of 11 children and Christmas was the one time that they all got together.
My Dad is on the top right.
Before any gifts were opened, everyone took turns performing a talent. The talents were anything from playing Silent Night by blowing in pop bottles to flexibility tricks using a broom stick. I remember one of my uncles pretending to be an astronaut, lying upside down on a folding chair, making sound effects of a space ship.
There was always a lot of singing, guitar playing , and if we were lucky…Uncle Glen brought the banjo. Everyone always made a big deal of Grandma Evelyn’s harmonica solos. It was like someone famous entered the room when Grandma pulled out her harmonica.
My contribution to Christmas other than my attempt to play the violin was introducing a game called “Mrs Mumble”. The one rule was you couldn’t show your teeth and you couldn’t laugh or you were out of the game. The first person in the circle would say, “Have you seen Mrs. Mumble?” and then the person next to them would say “I don’t know? Let me ask my neighbor”. The game just got better and better as the question worked it’s way around the circle and the aunts and uncles tried to out do each other in comedic improve.
My aunts Barb and Mona
After all the talents were shared, it was time for gifts. With so many siblings, the gift exchange seemed to take a very long time. When I turned 13, I was finally old enough to be entered in the name drawing. I remember feeling really grown up and proud to be in the circle of adults. My gift that first year was a set of hand painted ceramic turtles from my aunt Mona. I still have them almost 30 years later. I know I must have received Christmas gifts as a child, but this is the only one I really remember.
One thing I do remember well was the food. We ate rosettes, lefse, tea ring, lasagne, shrimp, pickled herring, olives, and deviled eggs. The adults enjoyed playing scrabble and putting together puzzles.
The kids loved hide and seek in all the upstairs bedrooms of “the big house” which now that I think about it, wasn’t very big at all. We fit a lot of people into that big-little house in Appleton, MN. It’s been many years now since we have had Christmas there, but the memories play in my mind like a movie. Thanks to my uncle Art, there is lots of video footage of the talent shows, singing, and dancing that I go back and watch when I’m feeling nostalgic.
Without trying, my parents have re-created a similar atmosphere of excitement for their own children. My 6 siblings and I gather with our families at my sister Gina’s house on Christmas. The kids usually treat the adults to a performance or costume parade . There are lots of board games, puzzles, a photo scavenger hunt, and a similar spread of food. My kids are soaking up every moment of memory making, and so am I.
Photo scavenger hunt organized by Katie.I loved driving around looking at lights as a kid and still do.
2016…The year of the mice. The first mouse siting was during a sleepover in a room full of teenage girls. My daughter and her group of friends were settling in to watch a movie when a mouse emerged from beneath the couch and raced across the hard wood floor, through the maze of pillows, blankets and couch cushions. That was the end of sleeping on the floor.
After that night, my kids were constantly on the look out for mice. Their eyes and ears were on alert day and night. We began finding mouse droppings around the kitchen and behind the couch. The mice multiplied quickly and we started seeing them in every room of the house. One night we had an unexpected guest who needed a place to spend the night. As I brought them to their bed, a mouse ran across the floor. After that, I stopped inviting people over.
We tried every kind of trap imaginable, deep cleaning the house, and two different pest control companies. The mice completely ignored the traps. I began to feel a bit crazy. I had trouble sleeping and jumped at the chance to leave the house on weekends.
We went on vacation in the summer of 2016 for a week and gladly left the mice behind. When we returned, there were mouse droppings in our beds. That was the last straw!
I started dreading the night. The sun setting meant the mice would come out to play. I turned on loud music and entered empty rooms with my eyes closed yelling, “get out of here, mice!”
We started to recognize the paths that the mice traveled. The majority of activity was in and around the living room couch. As a last resort, we decided to get rid of the couch. Mark brought it out into the country and my brother in-law and father in-law joined in a couch burning party.
After the couch was gone, the mice slowly disappeared. They were gone for about a year, but then came back in 2018.
One night, I opened the bedroom door to come downstairs during the early morning hours and saw two baby mice about an inch long toppling down the stairs. Seeing babies made me think, “Oh no, they’re multiplying!” Pest control came right away and told us that when you see babies, usually it means the adult mice are dead. The babies only leave the nest as a last resort. Those babies were the last mice I have seen.
The only evidence of the mice that remains is a piece of black tape covering the door to the upstairs attic. I convinced myself that the baby mice had come from the attic and taping the door was my desperate attempt of keeping the mice in.
Lately, I’ve been thinking about how this image parallels many areas of life. How often do I close the door to certain areas of my heart and emotions that I don’t want to deal with? “I’ll take care of it later,” I think to myself.
Unfortunately, a conflict or painful memory can only be avoided for so long. Last week, I finally took the tape off the door. There was no sign of mice. Just old papers, musty blankets, suitcases, and trash.
The mice are gone now, but the life lessons they taught me still remain. Our thoughts are trained to run in the same patterns, just like mice do. We can look the other way and hope that our hidden thoughts will somehow go away, but usually they need some gentle, yet firm attention. The pest control company we called didn’t seem to be helping for many months. Sometimes, the friend or therapist that we choose doesn’t end up being helpful or it takes longer than we expected. We had mice for over a year and there were days when I just wanted to move out and quit trying.
I am working hard to move toward the hard conversations with others instead of avoiding them. Facing fears and recognizing unhelpful beliefs that I have allowed to rule my life is hard, but important work. I hope you will have courage to face your fears as well. You are stronger than you know.
And now, one last thing, dear reader: If you currently have mice running wild throughout your house, tell me your mice stories and my empathy will abound!
There’s nothing quite like a snow day. Especially when the storm falls on a weekday. I remember as a child of the 80’s, sitting in front of the radio listening to the list of school cancellations being read in alphabetical order. When Marshall was called, we would jump up and down and run around the house screaming “School’s cancelled! School’s cancelled!”
Tonight we got word that St Paul schools would be cancelled tomorrow due to a pre-Thanksgiving snow storm. There was no waiting by the radio, but I did receive a text message, email, and voicemail.
A snow day for the kids means staying up a little later, sitting by the window and watching the snow fall by candle light. During the day off, there will be movies, board games, blanket forts in the living room, freshly baked cookies, family time, playing in the snow, and shoveling. Lots and lots of shoveling.
During a rare April snow day in 2018, the kids made an epic snow fort. The fort was modeled after a similar fort that my brothers and sisters and I made growing up. I am still in search of a photograph of the original. The fort was made from bricks of snow stacked in rows about 6-8 high with the word “HONK” written on the front with food coloring.
The kids had a blast jumping out from behind the wall and cheering when cars would honk
Whether you are dreading the coming winter or as excited as my kids, I hope you will find something to savor in this first snow day.
