Author Archives: rebecca

Rebecca Reads Is a Finalist!?

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We had a lovely weekend in Utah, and I’m so glad we could spend time with Paul’s grandparents in Utah. We hadn’t been there since November 2008, so Paul has grown up quite a bit! Hopefully, we’ll get back to Utah a lot sooner next time so we’ll get to see other family and friends as well.

I had good intentions upon my return. I planned to get photos up quickly and clean the fridge and do other ambitious projects. But then I found out that my reading blog, Rebecca Reads, is a finalist as Best General Review Blog for the Book Blogger Appreciation Week!

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I was always picked last in gym class. And the only vote I’ve ever won was for Drama Club President. But no one else wanted to be drama president, so I guess it was kind of by default. Ryan says that Drama Club President is just as geeky as being last in gym class: what do you think?

At any rate, I’m suddenly a winner (or at least the committee liked me). I get to put a lovely badge on my books site, and guess what…..there is still a vote for the best of all the finalists!

If you like book blogs, or you think you might like to find some books blogs, there are dozens of categories of blogs about books. Peruse the shortlists (with links to the blogs) and then go vote for your favorites by Saturday, September 12, 11:59 PM EST.

And if you are so inclined, you could vote for me. 🙂 I’m a bit giddy here.

And if I calm down by tomorrow, I may scrub the fridge. Ask me about it. I need someone to hold me accountable because apparently I’m not holding myself accountable.

Paul and Cowboy Joe

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Paul hasn’t been particularly interested in Cowboy Joe in the past months. I haven’t been encouraging him to play with Cowboy Joe — Joe’s a bit fragile as he’s all knit, and some seams are coming out already, even without regular play.

Last week, though, Paul was holding Cowboy Joe and pointing out various recognizable things: “eyes!” “ears!” “feet!”

I went to get the camera and by the time I got back, of course, Paul turned in to a big ham. He just loves to smile for the camera! Cowboy Joe was mostly forgotten, I’m sorry to say. I think Paul was trying to get Joe out of the picture so he’d keep the limelight to himself!

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A Little Chef

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I prepare breakfast granola one or two mornings a week, and Paul loves to help! He often gets up from breakfast and runs to his stool saying “cook! cook!” I found a pre-schooler cookbook and I’ve been taking it’s advice to heart: it’s not the end product that matters to a young cook, it’s the action things that they like.

Paul loves to help. From cracking eggs, to stirring, to eating the coconut flakes off the counter, he loves to cook with Mommy.

Here he is helping me cook a little pizza two weeks ago.

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And then videos are the most fun!

P.S. I think Paul is smiling a cheesy smile and sitting still in the second video because he thought I was taking a regular picture, not a video.

Time Out for the Reids

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We certainly had a Sorenson-filled summer, with my family visiting for the Fourth, my brother getting married, and my sister being in town for so many weeks. Lots of play time for those little cousins, and plenty of visiting with family.

So it’s certainly time for some one-on-one with the Reids! Just three days and we’ll be on our way for some Grandma Peggy and Papa Paul time out in Utah.

I have some house updates to post but I am just so excited for our upcoming weekend. Before all the fun, of course, I have to manage a 23-month-old on my lap for three hours. I admit I’m not looking forward to that all that much.

An In-Between Stage

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Paul is caught in between ages this month.

One day he wants to sit on the toilet every hour. (He’s usually successful.) The next day, he won’t go near the toilet without crying.

One day he wants to sit at the table in a regular chair. The next day he cries unless I open up his high chair for him.

One day he wants to go down the stairs ALL BY HIMSELF walking on two feet like a big person. The next day he cries for someone to come take his hand or he slithers down on his hands and knees.

One day he wants to sit and cuddle for ten minutes after his nap. The next day he won’t come near me and cries if I try to hold him.

And then there are the signs that he’s figured out the system. He slipped on the floor and sat down and fake cried for a few seconds. I was taking something to a different room and as soon as I was out of his sight, he stopped crying. As soon as I walked back in, he started up again. He wouldn’t stop until I’d picked him up and given him a “feel better; I love you” hug.

I love the baby stage, but it is exciting to see the “I’m getting older” stage too!

Red Day

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I met another mother who has a child Paul’s age and I was shocked to hear him recognizing colors. So I decided to start emphasizing colors. We had a red day the other day. Paul wore a red shirt, he ate on his red plate, we went to the barn (which is red), and he played on the red slide.

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See full set on flickr.

And here’s the life-action shot:

I’m not sure our “Red Day” made a difference in my son knowing the color red, but it was fun.

Projects Progress and Thoughts on Cleaning Every Week

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In addition to the regular cleaning, in the past two weeks, I’ve made a conscious effort to get some projects done. The highlight was certainly the new water softener, which Ryan put in. It only took 3 extra trips to Home Depot for a plumbing wrench, a new pipe, and a different new pipe.

  • Spray weeds: front, side and back of house
  • Fungicide at trees bases
  • Pull backyard weeds
  • Trim rosebush
  • Replace misc. light bulbs, inside and out
  • Put up shampoo and conditioner dispensers
  • Buy faux plant for dining room shelf
  • Scrub garage door where paint ball hit it (it didn’t clean completely, so we may need to paint it)
  • Purchase and install new water softener (FINALLY!)
  • Order new jeans with my Lands End gift card from Discover

I look at this list and it doesn’t sound like much, especially since Ryan did the dispensers and the water softener. But last week I also went down to Naperville twice, so that took up two days. I’m eager to keep doing projects in the coming weeks.

Further,  this was my fourth week of cleaning the entire house by Thursday night (defined as bathrooms, vacuuming, dusting, sweeping/mopping, cleaning kitchen counters and microwave, etc.). My score card is 4 success/0 fail/52 weeks, although I probably missed something small each week (like I missed the microwave one or two weeks and I didn’t dust one week). My goal is to clean the house every week for 52 weeks.

I’m realizing how great it is to clean every week: I go to clean the toilet in the powder room and think “It’s not even dirty” and what a wonderful thing! It’s never dirty. It doesn’t take long to wipe down an almost-clean toilet. It’s not even a “gross” chore. I go to clean the microwave and it’s mostly clean. I’m pretty big on keeping the microwave clean after I use it anyway, but I think making the special point of cleaning each week means that, like the toilet, I’ll never have to see it bad.

I’m also realizing that cleaning every week is really a superficial thing. Because everything is superficially clean (i.e., the toilets as I mentioned above), I can see the scuffs on the walls and the scratched paint on the door. I see the dirt in the corner behind the door. Cleaning every week is motivation to do deeper cleaning projects on my whole house. I’m going to recaulk the hall bathtub (if I can figure out how) and I’m going to paint the trim on the kitchen window. I only see it because I’m cleaning the rest of the room every single week.

I admit I have been getting lazy, or maybe just efficient. While I spent about six hours the first week, I only spent three hours today. I need to go deeper and get the tubs cleaner (I hate the glass doors on the shower and tub; so hard to clean!). Now that I have soft water again, it may be easier. Where is the lime-a-way?

Am I OCD? Absolutely not. I’m just trying to get in a habit for cleanliness. I figure a year of this, every week, will make it easier. Habits are hard to build and easy to break. Trust me when I say it does not come naturally for me. I’m inclined to ignore the bathrooms until they look icky, as I had been doing.

It’s been said that people get messier and dirtier as they age, and I want to start out as clean as I can be. That’s why I have this silly goal for now when I still feel young.

What are your techniques for not being lazy about cleaning and house projects? I’m up for ideas for making cleaning a great habit.

Paul’s Unusual Words

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If Paul’s toys aren’t working he turns them over and brings them to me, saying “battery.” Do most one-year-olds understand that concept and know that word?

I shouldn’t be surprised that Paul says “laundry” when he sees clothes. After all, I collect, wash, dry, fold and put away five loads a week. And yet, it’s always so cute to see him go after a random shirt and put in in the laundry, saying “laundry” over and over again.

Do most one-year-olds know how to say “salt” and “pepper“? I don’t think Paul realizes what they really taste like, but he certainly likes to put both salt and pepper on his food and asks for it by name. It doesn’t matter which foods. I blame this on Ryan, who is never satisfied with my seasonings. I admit: dinner usually tastes better after Ryan adds more salt and pepper. I can’t say the same for Paul’s seasoning.

Paul doesn’t say “Kangaroo” but he recognizes one. And yet, he doesn’t know a zebra or an Elephant. Why is this? Does he have an innate sense that he was born where kangaroos are native? Or have we just read and watched enough Winnie-the-Pooh that Kanga is familiar now?

And then there are the cute words he says. The diphthong for “mail” is so cute in a one-year-old’s mouth, and he loves to go to the mailbox with me most days. And then there is the most challenge fruit ever: “banana.” It normally comes out as bi-ya-a or bi-yi-a. The strange sound is impossible to capture in print. It’s just plain cute. And “cook“? It’s adorable to me that he loves to cook already. It’s become a favorite word. I plan on nurturing that.

Loving My Baby

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I was very impatient with Paul this morning. He had energy to do everything. Since he hadn’t taken a nap yesterday, I was afraid today would be another never-ending day. I was exhausted already.

“Go! Go!” he shouted, excitedly, as we went from one activity and errand to the next.

I felt snappy. I felt impatient. I was a mean mommy, I’m afraid.

Then, blissfully, after lunch Paul took at three-hour nap, longer than normal. He awoke just as energetic, but I was different.

From the moment I got him up out of his crib, I felt I was holding a precious bundle of warm blessings. He was cuddly, and for a few moments, we rocked together in the rocking chair. He was my baby, not so little any more but just as soft and innocent as a newborn.

As he ran out of my arms and toward his toys, I felt I was letting go of my precious little baby. He’s a toddler, and becoming more of a little-boy every single day. Of course he’s energetic: everything he does is new. It is exciting. It is special. And I’m so glad that cuddling with Mommy post-nap was one of those special things.

As I came in here to type down some thoughts and to try – just try – to capture the precious mother moment when I held my no-longer-a-baby little boy in my arms, I heard him calling “Mamma! Mamma!” I returned to his side, and he proudly showed me how he made his blanket into a train track for his engine. Yes, he loves me. He wants to share his little discoveries with me.

I treasure the precious mother moments that Heavenly Father gives me, those moments when God reminds me that Paul is a son of a Heavenly King. These are the moments when I feel so blessed that his precious spirit was sent to me and my husband. Our family. Our eternal family.

Paul’s not going to a baby forever. Oh, how I don’t want him to grow away from me!

Guest Post: What the Naperville Municipal Band Means to Me by My Mother

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With the approach of Memorial Day this spring, my daughter told her young children about the parade that always marks the beginning of summer.  She bought some small American flags for them to wave and a bottle of bubbles to blow as bands marched by. And then she got online to find the parade route in the town where her family had recently bought their first home. After a fruitless search and then a phone call, the truth was undeniable.

There was no Memorial Day Parade–not in that town or in any town for miles around.

And then she understood the strange silence emanating from the elementary school nearby. There were no school children marching down the street blowing their horns, because there was no parade to practice for. How would her children ever decide what instruments to play if they could not sit on the front lawn and watch the mini-parade that was always a part of May afternoons in our Naperville neighborhood?

That was when we realized that the Naperville Municipal Band is not just about band concerts. Our band is the catalyst for much of what we love best about Naperville. It creates parades and parks; picnics and practices; competitions and community. If we were forced to re-live our lives in Naperville without its band, what horrors might we encounter? No Memorial Day Parade, no weekly concert, no band shell, no Central Park. Perhaps a tall condo where we now sit in the grass? Maybe schools without their prize-winning music programs? Sidewalks without people converging towards the center of town? And how many homes without their private ensembles?

The Naperville Municipal Band means that we don’t have to leave Naperville to show the best that the Midwest has to offer to guests from out of the area. The spirit of Central Park, where we nod and greet friends and strangers alike, spreads throughout our city. We have the finest of friendship, festivities, and culture right here.

For my family, the band continues to bless four generations. My mother comes to visit us in the middle of each summer so that she can attend the Fourth of July concert and see the veterans standing and remember when my father was among them. The band inspires family members to dust off their neglected instruments in case maybe –just maybe — the band needs them someday. It means that my son’s family has returned to live in the neighborhood where he grew up, and my grandchildren now walk to concerts with me and talk about what instruments they will play. And it means that next year, I think my daughter will bring her family to visit — probably Memorial Day weekend.

Ellen Sorenson (Naperville resident since 1975)