the time my husband lost his wedding ring three times

When Jeff and I were betrothed, I knew I wanted to have our wedding bands specially made for us by a shop in my hometown called Goldmakers.  Not only is their jewelry gorgeous and original, it is operated and most of the jewelry design and craft is done by two chicks I went to junior high/high school with, and they were awesome at jewelry even then.  (Isn't it cool that my high school had jewelry and metals classes?  That's public school done right, Nashville.)

I knew exactly what I wanted for mine.  It's called a gypsy setting, and it's basically a standard-width band with lots of tiny little diamond chips dropped in in a random pattern.  Here's a good example (but with sapphires instead of diamonds, and thinner than mine):

I love my wedding band and it still brings me a lot of joy to look at it each day. 

Jeff also knew just what he wanted.  He is a fidgeter, and he loved the idea of getting one of those rings with a spinning inner channel, so he could fuss with it all day long.  It cost a fortune because it is basically two rings fused together and then specially set so that one can spin freely.

These artisan rings set us back a couple grand, but it's okay, because you only ever get one, right?

Umm.  Well, in addition to being a fidgeter, my husband is also a chronic ring-taker-offer-and-putter-back-on-er.  Working in a restaurant compounds this, and he is constantly slipping off his ring when he has to get his hands in something nasty.

We were married (first in April, then in May) about four months before he lost the original spinner ring.  It's a long story, but let's just say he believes it was in a parking garage and it was gone the next morning when he went back to look for it.  Four months, people.  That's how long this lifetime investment lasted us.

So, off I go to Australia that winter (to do little stuff like meet the Dalai Lama and understand the world's religions).  While I was in Melbourne, the Gyuto monks (which are like the Dalai Lama's special task force) were selling handcrafted Tibetan goods to raise money for their cause.  I found a gorgeous hammered steel ring with a spinner!  It was embellished with Tibetan symbols and letters.  I bought it for about ten Australian dollars, prayed over it with a monk, and arrived home with my husband's second wedding ring.

He loved that one.  Maybe even more than the first.  He showed it off and talked it up wherever we went.  I thought we had found a keeper with that ring. 

But then the baby was born.  And the chaos ensued.  Somewhere in between being up all night and shifting around all our stuff to make room for her detritus, the second ring was lost.  We were sure that when we moved it would turn up.  Nope.

In the meantime, Jeff picked up a cheap ring from the gas station.  Somehow, in spite of his total inability to keep track of a wedding band, he still wants to wear one to show the world that he's married.  I appreciate that. 

But somewhere between Vicki Jo's arrival and our move to Tennessee, that ring was lost as well.  He thinks that one got left on the sink at work or something like that.  I wasn't too sad, as I really had nothing to do with that. 

So here we are, working on our fourth year of marriage, and my dear husband has already burned through three wedding bands.  He is the illustration beside the definition of "you can't have nice things."  I'm either thinking that he gets one tattooed on (which he would love as he already has a number of tattoos), or I just plan on buying him a new one for every year of marriage.  What do you think?

little mind readers

[This post submitted for Living Montessori Now's "Montessori Monday.]

The newsletter from Michael Olaf arrived the other day!  Whenever updates come from them, all else is postponed until I get through scouring it.  I wonder who Michael Olaf is?  He must have loved Montessori an awful lot!

This latest newsletter was all about Practical Life.  To me, practical life is the genius of Montessori.  It is a way of thinking more than anything else.  It's an attitude that says My child needs valuable work.  My child doesn't need special "baby" or "child" activities.  My child wants to be involved in whatever I view as important.  My child needs appropriate tools and environments for participating in the life of our family.

When I first learned about this area of Montessori education, I immediately thought of the roles my mother let me have in our household from a very young age.  I benefited from being the youngest because she was much more relaxed about what I could do.  For instance, one of my duties was to rise early while it was still cool in the summer, put gasoline in the lawnmower, and mow the front and back lawns myself.  I did each of these tasks without supervision from the age of about 10.  Rather than viewing it as a burden, I loved mowing because I was given so much freedom and responsibility to do something that really mattered.  Real work.  I remember folding laundry with Mom from a very young age - maybe 2 or 3.  Again, I loved it.  I still love folding laundry.  Weird, I know.  

Classic practical life exercises like cutting fruit and vegetables, dusting plants, sweeping, washing dishes, and so on, are typically geared toward children starting at around 15 months.  I think a prerequisite for most of them is the ability to walk.  So, we are a bit behind there.  But Vicki has been helping me load and empty the dishwasher, load and unload the dryer (and transport clothes to be folded in her walker wagon to the place in the living room where we fold!), and I've recently noticed her begin to show an interest in wiping the floor and other surfaces with a dishcloth, beginning to lay things out flat and try to fold them, and also wanting to wipe her nose, mouth, and diaper area with cotton wipes (I suppose that is more Care of Self than Practical Life).  She also loves transferring and pouring items and liquids.

One of the later paragraphs in the newsletter caught my eye.  It wasn't so much about Practical Life as it was about emotional expression.  It reminded me of something I learned about Vicki Jo from her youngest days.  I remember thinking that she could smell fear or hesitation.  She could tell when I wasn't wholehearted about something.  Here is the quote:

"Children also read the adult's mind and emotion and will carry out research to find out exactly what the parent is trying to communicate when they give double messages—for example when an angry parent is trying to appear cheerful.

A child needs to know that it is all right to feel and express anger and frustration. He needs models to learn how—walking, scrubbing a floor, hitting a pillow or pounding clay—and not hitting another person (spanking included). If an adult goes for a walk or pounds clay, so will the child. If the adult hits the child, the child learns that it is okay to hit to express emotion."

Wow!  I was spanked a few times, and honestly, I remember doing really horrid things and really deserving it.  It didn't make me fear my mother or make me more prone to hitting others.  I don't think we will spank Vicki, and I love these suggestions for showing children how to resolve angry emotions.  I love the phrase about how the child will "carry out research" if they sense a double message is present.  It is so true.  You can't hide anything from these little clairvoyants.  Realizing this makes me redouble my efforts to live authentically and show Vicki Jo that real, practical life is full of joy and beauty, but also frustration and mistakes.