Drops of Awesome

Personal Blog of Author Kathryn Thompson

Holidays

Don’t Make Me Open Up a Can of Civil Rights on Your Racist 4-Year-Old Butt!

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I thought I’d take a few minutes last Monday and teach the kids about Martin Luther King Jr. and civil rights in general.

We had a good talk in the car about who Martin Luther King was and what he stood for. Laylee could not get enough. “Tell me another more story about him,” she begged so I told her all about the civil rights movement. I explained how bad it was for people who were treated differently just because of the way they looked and I told her how much better our world is now because of the sacrifices made by so many people who worked to make things equal for everyone.

Magoo didn’t get much of what we were talking about and when we got out of the car, he began running around jabbing a stick at people and yelling, “I’M THE MOOTH ER KING! PUME! PUME!!!” I suppose we all have the right to celebrate the holiday however we choose. I do have a dream that some day he will get on the clue bus though.

When I ran out of the 4-year-old-appropriate stories I knew about the civil rights movement, I started to make up scenarios to apply racism to Laylee personally, leaving Magoo to his own devices.

“What if you tried to go to preschool and they told you that you couldn’t go to a good school because you were skinny and they thought skinny people were bad so skinny people had to go to a yucky school? How would you feel? What if people threw stuff at you or wouldn’t let you use the restrooms because your skin was that peachy color?”

We talked all about how we should treat everyone with kindness and how even if people are mean to us or others, we should stand up for what’s right without being mean back. I asked her what she would do if she saw someone at preschool being mean to another kid because of the way they looked.

She stopped, thinking so hard you could almost see the thoughts popping out of her ears and then she said, “If I see anybody being mean to somebody at preschool… um… I guess I could do the civil rights on ”˜em to get ”˜em to stop. I wouldn’t hit ”˜em. I’d just sort of do the civil rights.”

“What do you mean by that?

“You know, just, like, do the civil rights to them.”

With her word choice, it sounded to me like code for some sort of brutal playground hand to hand combat move. “Well, Jimmy likes to use an uppercut or just whack the other kid over the head with a Little Tikes folding chair but I personally prefer to mix it up by giving ”˜em a quick civil rights to the solar plexus.”

I suppose she could be planning a sit-in or something. At dinner later that night she told Dan that for civil rights you mostly just sit places and sing songs. This description could apply equally well to a peaceful civil rights protest, Woodstock, or a class at Gymboree.

Maybe we’ll try this again next year.

Revising Religious History and a Possible eBay Jackpot

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We have effectively wiped King Herod from the Daring Family annals of biblical history. I’m not losing much sleep over it. From what I hear, that guy was trouble with a capital T and that rhymes with P and that stands for Power-hungry Psychopath.

Laylee has also decreed that all three wisemen were actually women. They wore fancy clothes and sparkly jewelry-like crowns so, ya know, it’s kind of obvious. When I explained that they’re called wise MEN because they are of the male persuasion, she was quick to correct my prononunciation. “WiseMINN!” she laughed, “They’re not called wise MEN! Wise MEN are boys but WiseMINN like in the Baby Jesus story are girls.”

jesus-paintingAnd I should listen to her. She’s the one who’s gonna make us a zillion dollars on eBay finding the Savior’s image in milk blobs. When asked what this milk blob painting looked like, Laylee in an attempt to earn us preschool bonus points for Christian piety, declared this to be a perfect likeness. I wonder what a sighting like this goes for on internet auction this time of year.

I’m having sightings of my own. What do the words on this container look like when viewed upside down in the refrigerator at night through squinty little eyelids?

jesus-spinach

That’s what I thought too.

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”˜Tis the season!

Herod and I — We’re Jerks

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We’re trying to fight the media-oric power of Santa’s publicity machine and teach Laylee and Magoo that Christmas is actually a religious holiday with fun attached as a festive bonus. Some days we win and sometimes the kids get all “Manger, what? Maybe I’ll care if you tell me it was full of liquid sugar.”

So tonight for family night I asked Laylee to tell us all the Christmas Story minus the reindeer, elves and abominable snow people. She asked me for a refresher and using the Little People as props, I took her through the basics.

When we got to the sinister part where Herod told the wise guys to come and tell him when they’d found Jesus because he wanted to worship him too, Laylee went into full panic mode. “I don’t like this part. I hate this story. He wanted to hurt the baby! I don’t like this part. I don’t want to tell it.”

She completely lost control and started shaking and bawling. Holding her in my arms trying to comfort her fear, I told her it was okay because he didn’t get to harm the baby. God protected Jesus and told the wise men what Herod had up his sleeve. She didn’t care if the baby got hurt or not. It was enough to know that someone was evil enough to want to do it. It was too scary.

We’ve talked about this story a bazillion times before and she’s never been bothered by it. When we get to the Herod part, she usually flinches, gives little smile and shakes with pretend fear and a look that says, “Phew! That was close.”

What was different today?

Adult things. I’ve been talking about hairy scary adult things for days, flooding, sadness, homelessness, despair, destruction, death and loss. To her I explained the disaster in a way a 4-year-old could understand. I gave her the Bambi version. “Bambi. Your mother can’t be with you anymore.”

Then I proceeded to watch news footage, talk on the phone with friends and family and cry about what I’d seen. “Bambi. Your mother can’t be with you anymore.

“Hey Thumper, don’t tell Bambi that his mom was brutally murdered by a faceless thug with a shotgun. They’re everywhere these days. It makes me cry just thinking about it. Bambi will likely be the next to go but don’t tell him. It may stress him out.

“Like I told you B, your mom’s gone on a long vacation but everything is juuuust peachy.”

I got her calmed down with sugar cookies, something I never thought I’d hear myself say, and I now pledge to be more protective of her innocence. She’s a baby in a world that wants her to grow up way too fast and she’s not deaf and I am not equipped with a soundproof telephone booth in which to cry and muse about the horrors and tragedies of this world in her presence.

She seemed to bounce back quickly, although her mental state is altered to the point that she’s now convinced she’s a feline and will only answer to sentences that begin with the word “Meow.” But then I’m not sure that particular disorder has anything to do with me, floods or evil biblical kings. She may just be four.

Flood Washington with Relief

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Flood Washington With ReliefIt wasn’t until I sat down to beg you all for help that the severity of what’s going on in the flood zones really hit me and I started bawling. If you want to understand why, go watch this video from the Lewis County Chronicle website. I really need your help everybody.

I spent yesterday demolishing a single mother’s home in hopes of saving it. The main floor of her small house was filled with muddy contaminated water during this week’s record-breaking flood in western Washington. Apparently the water rose so fast that she and her 3 children were unable to get home and move their belongings from the main floor to safety.

Belongings piled up for cleaning. She said her house looked like a giant blender. The fridge was floating in the livingroom.4 days later while my 4 girlfriends and I were tearing the sheetrock and insulation from the walls of her home with hammers and shovels, she was still hauling her filthy belongings to temporary housing in garbage bags. A few of her children’s homemade Christmas decorations still clung to the higher walls.

Over 1600 homes were flooded in this disaster, the majority of which have no flood insurance. Businesses have been wiped out. As sad as it was to see Wal-Mart under water and Home Depot condemned, the hardest thing is to know that many small businesses may never recover. So even as their homes are destroyed, their livelihoods may be cut off as well, right at the busiest time of the year for many businesses.

Volunteers waiting for assigments.

One of my friends kept asking the disaster relief workers what the people would do now that their homes and belongings had been destroyed. Several families are walking away from homes and businesses with no idea what they will do next. The fact that Christmas is almost upon us is the least of their worries.

Cabinets continued to drip water, mud and sludge as we carried them from the house. All her appliances large and small are ruined.It was incredibly humbling to drive past homes and farms that had been completely submerged, some blasted by 14 feet of filthy water. Farms that have been handed down for generations are destroyed, their owners left with nothing. Some had to shoot their own livestock so they wouldn’t suffer while drowning. There are cars and farming equipment still under water or stuck in mud and much of it is completely unusable. We saw toys, clothes and furniture several feet up in trees. People are in shock. More belongings to clean or toss.One elderly woman was found sitting alone in her mud-drenched home staring straight ahead, unable to move. It’s a daunting task and several hours of hard labor yield negligible results. It’s hard not to be discouraged by the slow pace of the progress.

One of the hardest hit areas is in Lewis county around Chehalis, a couple of hours south of where we live in the Seattle suburbs. My good friend grew up in Chehalis and her father is still a dentist and farmer in that area who, as Many houses will need to be stripped to the studs to get rid of the contaminants and smell.a volunteer LDS church leader, is helping head up relief efforts. Taking few breaks to eat or rest, he has spent the past several days driving from home to home assessing needs, helping with cleanup, distributing donations and organizing hundreds of volunteers.

Several local churches of various faiths have been turned into shelters and clothing and food distribution centers. People are coming from all over the US to serve and help with cleanup. The main non-denominational relief organizations serving the area are the United Way and the Red Cross and they are doing amazing work.

I am amazed at how generous people are to strangers.I sent out an email to the women of my congregation asking for clothing, food and tool donations and within hours, we had a garage full of supplies which Dan drove down early this morning on his way to help with cleanup. When I got home from Chehalis last night, I talked to my neighbors about what I’d seen and they came up with 3 boxes of helpful donations.

The river is on the OTHER side of the house. This is what was left when the flood receded.Do you live nearby? Would you like to help with cleanup or reconstruction? Do you live far away? Would you like to help these people put their lives back together? Each year at Christmas we try to find someone in need who we can serve, something we should actually be doing all year long. This year the choice seems obvious for us. I can’t remember a time when I felt more blessed and more of an urge to give everything I can to help someone else. Even Laylee has gathered a mountain of clothes, toys and blankets in her room to take to the “flood people.”

How do you ever come back from this?

How do you ever come back from this?I’m gathering monetary donations which I will use to purchase gift cards to Home Depot and other local businesses with much-needed supplies. We will drive these cards down to Lewis County and, with the direction of local relief workers, give them to the flood victims to meet their immediate needs. Personally, I believe that people are capable of reaching out and helping each other directly.

Obviously I am not a registered charity so I do not have a Tax ID to give you a receipt for deductions. However, if you have $2 or $2000 that you’d like to go directly to people in dire need this Christmas, and you trust me to get it to them, I know that together we can do a lot of good. If you’re more comfortable going the traditional route, please consider making a donation through The Red Cross or The United Way.

My problems seem relatively small in comparison.If you’d like to help me give directly to victims, please click here to send money via PayPal.












All money that comes into my account for the rest of the year will go 100% to help rebuild the hardest hit areas of Washington. The people are cold, they’re wet and they need our help and prayers.

If you have a blog, please pass this information along to your readers. You can lift the graphic from the top and any photos from this post and post a link back to this entry. Email me if you have any questions and please help these people any way you can. Imagine what it would be like to lose everything all at once with little or no warning. THANK YOU!

Smells Like December

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I’m starting to sense that it may be December. This sensation is apropos and in regards to the following significant significations:

1. Magoo will not stop with the “jiggy bells.” Yep. He really calls them that.

gettin jiggy wit dis bell

2. When we breathe out through our mouths, it makes all kinds of crazy “foagk.” So we breathe out a lot and not so much of the in until our lungs nearly explode and we pass out on the sidewalk on the way to the civic tree lighting festival, the festival in which they plug in 3 strands of lights on a giant tree the shape of a pickle. We always cover our eyes to avoid getting the “foagk” in them and so that our landing place will be a surprise when we pass out on the way to the CTLF.

BEWARE THE FOAGK (This is coming from my mouth as I take the picture. Notice Magoo's amazement.)

3. December 1st dawned with the promise that Seattle may indeed see a white Christmas this year… with a touch of green peeking out from underneath.

This may be the closest we'll get to a white Christmas. Hurry and taste the snow kids before it melts!

4. My craft projects have finally found willing muffin-headed recipients.

My head sure looks like a muffin top that's betterGo ahead and squeal from the cuteness. No one will laugh at you.

5. It smells like my BIRTHDAY!!! Growing up, I always knew my birthday was coming when I could smell winter in the air. This got a little annoying to my parents as it begins to smell like winter sometime in late August up in Alberta. Down here my olfactory timing device is a little more accurate. Ere the year is over I will reach the ripe old age of 29. Condolence gifts and donations of Centrum Silver can be sent via mail.

The Reasons: a Santa who arrives on a fire engine, mittened hands eating sugar cookies, husbands who make dinner and do all the dishes so their wives can crochet

Christmas Tree Rulz

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Tonight Laylee educated me in the ways of childish yuletide arbor dressing. Gah! I adore her.

tree-decorating-013

1. Pull each ornament from the crumpled newspaper. Gasp and squeal because of the sheer beauty of it all.

2. Ornaments get lonely if they’re spread out all over the tree. Each ornament must be touching at least 3 others or “that’s just mean.”

tree-decorating-008

3. You must group them according to color and style. Reds like reds. Candy canes like other candy canes. Shiny disco-like balls like other shiny disco-like balls.

tree-decorating-011

4. Ornaments that like each other should touch… else the sadness.

5. Pretty little girls should be the ones to hang all the pretty little ornaments on the tree.

6. Little boys get nothing.

tree-decorating-0027. If it’s Dad’s job to put the star on the top of the tree, that means that it’s his job to hold the pretty little girl while she puts the pretty little star on the tree. It’s common sense really.

8. The prettiest ornaments should be well hidden within the centermost branches of the tree “so they can be private.”

9. Glass is better.

10. Magoo did it.

11. Place several of the best ornaments at floor level so that the “mice and bugs” have something festive to look at. Make your mother feel fabulous about her housekeeping abilities.

tree-decorating-016

Problem Solved

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I have a problem. Every 10 or 12 years, I prepare and serve a platter of festive deviled eggs. Periodically, I’d say at least one of every two times I make them every 10 or 12 years, one or two of the eggs will roll over, bumping into other eggs and ruining their perfect spacing.

Well, now I’ve found the answer. I can buy and store this gorgeous Christmassy egg tray for 10 or 12 years until I need it to serve nothing but deviled eggs. Hey I bet I could even get one for Kwanza, Flag Day and Diwali.

Okay. Fess up. Do you have one of these? Did you pay actual money for it or did you get married a week after Christmas?

egg-tray

The Halloween Witch

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The Halloween Witch – Thaaat’s what they call me, folks.

I am oh-so-done with my children running around at warp speed with their volume turned up to “shatter”. The candy was fun. The candy was beloved. The candy is now gone. And my kids are grateful. The entire neighborhood and my fellow Target shoppers are probably grateful too.

candyFirstly, I will say that I refuse to ration candy or fight with my kids for weeks on end after the tricking and the treating are over. If I’ve dragged them from house to house in the cold begging for sugar, I refuse to then take all the sugar away on the grounds that it’s not good for them.

For the two days following Halloween, I let the sugar flow free throughout the house. Food was substituted by refined enamel-dissolving carbs and the children alternately rejoiced and melted down. It was too much for their little brains to handle.

Magoo woke the second morning calling for me in sadness. I entered his room to find him sitting up looking half asleep and mumbling to himself.

Me: Good morning!
Magoo: Umph.
Me: You wanna get up?
Magoo: No.
Me: You wanna come to mommy?
Magoo: No.
Me: You wanna stay in bed?
Magoo: No.
Me: What do you want?
Magoo: Uh…my canny.
Me: You want your candy?
Magoo: YEAH!!!

With that he jumped into my arms.

And so I told my children the legend of the Halloween Witch. She comes in the night 48 hours after spook day, searching for candy. If you leave what’s left of your stash on the front porch by the rotting pumpkins, she will whisk it away to dad’s office her Witch’s palace and leave a present in its place.

An Offering to the Pagan Witch of Blessed Sanity
An Offering to the Pagan Witch of Blessed Sanity

My kids gleefully binged for 2 days and then decided to take their chances with door number 3. Behind door number 3 they found a mechanical snorting baby pig and a BIG TRUCK!!!!! Their joy was full and those little stinkers were able to eat candy all day today too because they had tricked the witch by deviously squirreling chocolate away in their carseats, bits of bit-o-honey under their beds and half-licked linty lollipops in purses and bags.

They look forward to gathering candy for the witch next year and I look forward to them slowing down tomorrow and detoxing enough to feel the pain when they slam their heads into the walls.

*** It’s 2012 and The Halloween Witch has visited every year since the writing of this post in 2007. It’s always voluntary but the kids see it as a no-brainer. This year I gave them the option of donating their candy directly to the troops in exchange for cash and bypassing the witch. They would have none of it. So I guess the witch will have to donate in their honor. I love the witch as much today as I did when we first met her and I hope you enjoy her as well! ***