Unbloggity

Perhaps Shakespeare is rubbing off on me, but I think it's a good word. Unbloggity, of course, refers to the mood that sometimes hits bloggers for a short season. It's not that things haven't happened. It's just that I haven't felt like writing about them. So here are some of the thrilling events that have taken place over the last couple of weeks:

Sinatra woke up one morning and had matching bruises on his cheeks. I think Gem pinched his cheeks too hard (though the accused denies it). The next afternoon he did a face plant over the handlebars of his scooter bike onto the cement and had a bloody nose and lip. Then he fell with a matchbox car in his hand and gouged the corner of his eye. On top of that he has a runny nose that is all mingled with his healing lip, so I can't wipe it like I normally would. He looks horrid--has a scabby little Hitler mustache.

I've instituted P.E. in our homeschool. One sad disadvantage of homeschooling is the lack of P.E. dynamics. There is no large group to play kickball or dodgeball, so we've resorted to basketball. I played (debatable) organized basketball in 8th and 9th grades and at least learned the basics, so we've been drilling those. Shakespeare is getting much better at dribbling and Gem's shooting technique is beautiful. I act just like a coach and make them run more if they complain. We use the driveway lines as baseline,free throw and half court lines and I make them run suicides. They have loved it. We'll do baseball next, but I'm not touching soccer with a 10 foot pole.

In history we made paper viking ships and are going put them in a diorama, complete with ship, house and little viking people. It will be a long project. I'll update pictures as we go.

The Michigan OSU game was a miserable experience. The rain was as depressing as the final score. But we still say, "M Go Blue".

Last night Jon went to a Casting Crowns concert with his friend, Rex. Rex and Mark (the lead singer) were childhood best friends, so Rex got backstage passes and they all got to meet for a brief moment before the performance. How fun!

Sinatra has been routinely waking at 5 A.M. I have had to go to bed by 9 P.M. at the latest to keep up with the little ball of energy. We've had some wonderful mornings though. And last night when I put him in his toddler bed he hugged and kissed me by his own initiative. Then he wouldn't let go, so I snuggled up with him and we both fell asleep. When Jon came home from the concert he found me asleep next to Sinatra with his little arms still wrapped around my neck. So, so sweet.

Well, that's my laundry list. I hope I have redeemed my unbloggity moment and will henceforth strive to blog as events happen.

Another Reason I'm not a Cat Person

DOG DIARY
8:00 AM - Dog food! My favorite thing!
9:30 AM - A car ride! My favorite thing!
9:40 AM - A walk in the park! My favorite thing!
10:30 AM - Got rubbed and petted! My favorite thing!
12:00 PM - Lunch! My favorite thing!
1:00 PM - Played in the yard! My favorite thing!
3:00 PM - Wagged my tail! My favorite thing!
5:00 PM - Milk bones! My favorite thing!
7:00 PM - Got to play ball! My favorite thing!
8:00 PM - Wow! Watched TV with the people! My favorite thing!
11:00 PM - Sleeping on the bed! My favorite thing!

CAT DIARY
Day 983 of my captivity.

My captors continue to taunt me with bizarre little dangling objects. They dine lavishly on fresh meat, while the other inmates and I are fed hash or some sort of dry nuggets. Although I make my contempt for the rations perfectly clear, I nevertheless must eat something in order to keep up my strength. The only thing that keeps me going is my dream of escape.

In an attempt to disgust them, I once again vomit on the carpet.

Today I decapitated a mouse and dropped its headless body at their feet. I had hoped this would strike fear into their hearts, since it clearly demonstrates what I am capable of. However, they merely made condescending comments about what a "good little hunter" I am.

Bast!

There was some sort of assembly of their accomplices tonight. I was placed in solitary confinement for the duration of the event. However, I could hear the noises and smell the food. I overheard that my confinement was due to the power of "allergies." I must learn what this means, and how to use it to my advantage.

Today I was almost successful in an attempt to assassinate one of my tormentors by weaving around his feet as he was walking. I must try this again tomorrow -- but at the top of the stairs.

I am convinced that the other prisoners here are flunkies and snitches. The dog receives special privileges. He is regularly released - and seems to be more than willing to return. He is obviously retarded. The bird has got to be an informant. I observe him communicating with the guards regularly. I am certain that he reports my every move. My captors have arranged protective custody for him in an elevated cell, so he is safe.

For now...

Keep the Receipt

This is the last picture from my Sony camera that I'll post for a while. I bought the thing Oct. 6th and am sending it out for warranty repairs today. The little twerp won't work--turns on and tries to focus a couple of times then shuts down.

I couldn't find my receipt so yesterday I spent 90 minutes on the phone with Office Depot customer service, tracking down the right department that could give me the archived sales receipt. Thank God for digital storage. Someone should offer a master's program in phone menu navigation. I certainly earned a few credits yesterday.

I'll be reverting to my fairly bulky, 3 mega pix. Kodak for the next few weeks. Sigh.

Birthday Man

Today, Jon is 32! Happy Birthday, My Love!!!

He is exactly 2 weeks younger than I am. I always tease him about snagging an older woman.

I get to rub in that I'm older until we get to 40, then he can rub it in for the rest of our lives. But I don't think people are old until they're 80 (sorry Mama Jo and Grandma), so it won't bother me. And by the time I'm 80 I don't plan on caring.

When my dad turned 50 I asked him how he felt--"Beats the alternative," he said.

I'll just be happy that today my hubby joins me at 32.

Brown Delivers

Yesterday, after I blogged, the doorbell rang and two items were on the step: Gem's American Girl outfit and my gate!!!!!!! I don't know which one of us was more excited. Notice the beautiful white barrier in the background of these pictures. It actually pins in the little man. We'll have the first real trial run on Monday morning.

Containment

Jon almost choked on a banana when he saw that I had spent $118 on a baby gate. Let me explain: 72" opening between play room and school room; 18 month old that feels the necessity to hold on to Mom and dominate her every waking moment; two children who really do have to get school work done; all other gates had comments about handles breaking within two days or children being able to use the anchors as toeholds. This gate was touted as indestructable, unscalable, easy to install and $30 off (+ free shipping). Parent comments praised this gate with five stars and rave reviews. I NEED THIS GATE!



Notice the opening in question beyond the smiling faces. What you don't see in this picture is the toddler, that is clinging to the photographers legs--the same toddler who was just on top of the school table seconds before and then returned to it to throw crayons all over the floor. GATE!

2, 3's + Softsoap =

Margaret

Someone suggested that I say something nice about each of my bride's maids at my wedding reception. They had seen it done and thought it was so nice. It was a great idea, but when I had the microphone in my hand, words really failed. I said things like, "I've known Margaret since we were kids. She's a great friend." I continued like this through all three of my bridesmaids, speaking with the eloquence of a professional athlete.

But let me tell you a bit about Margaret and why she is dear to me.

She was one of the neighborhood kids I ran around with when we lived in Ohio. That would put us at around 8-12 years old. She was the smart one that did reports from newspaper articles throughout the summer and kicked my rear in piano.

She did, however, do something very stupid once--she actually let me talk her into cutting her bangs. Let's just say that little people figures aren't the only ones with butch cuts.

She was ever faithful to follow through with my plans: digging holes to set the posts for numerous club houses that never materialized; showing up at my door at 2 A.M. to go toilet paper a neighbor's house; selling lemonade, rocks, water, siblings, anything that would fetch a nickle; riding down to Burger King or the local grocery store on bikes, or actually standing in line for each piece of gourmet sour apple candy because they were 9 cents and you had to pay tax starting at 10 cents (we were frugal).

We made up plays, raked leaves so we could jump in them, managed to get three people on one bike and ride it down the hill, made the most ridiculous looking cheerleader outfits out of tissue paper, and started a lawn business that uncharacteristically produced enough profit to fly Margaret and Amanda (the other one in our trio) down to visit me the year after I moved.



I'm on the left, Margaret on the right (no,she doesn't really have a beard--this picture is a definite candidate for photoshop), one of the Amandas is in the middle and we even managed to rope my sister, Emily, into the scheme.

We got into all kinds of innocent mischief that kids are supposed to get into. Friends like Margaret made mine a wonderful childhood. God blessed me with the richness of her friendship. She will forever hold a dear place in my heart because of what we shared as we played and grew up together.

That's what I should have said about Margaret.

When God Speaks

God talks to me all the time. It's rarely about anything earth-shattering. In fact, it's usually about mundane things like which socks to wear today.

Over the course of time I've noticed that the little things are what matters and that He doesn't edit me because He can, but because He's looking out for me or for someone else through me. Let me illustrate:

Near the end of May there is a Scholastic warehouse book sale that is open to educators in the area. Everything is 50% off--huge delight to my homeschooling soul! This May, my friend and I decided to swap babysitting so that we could alternately attend.

The morning of the sale I woke up and got ready, but God told me (no, not audibly)not to go. I argued and reasoned that I had not heard right. I packed up my kids.

As I drove to preschool to pick up Popcorn, the Lord finally gave in and I had a release to go. With a smile and peace in my heart, I dropped off my troop at my friend's house and drove to the sale, all the while listening to a sermon CD on obedience.

When I got there the parking lot was almost empty--I was a week early.

Today:

I have been making plans for a field trip for our homeschool group to a local observatory. Tonight was the night. I got up this morning and realized that I had not sent out a reminder this week to all the families. As the thought crossed my mind so did God's "No".

But did that stop me? -- No. I sent out the reminder and then received an email from the director of our program soon afterward saying that I had the wrong date.


Sometimes I listen and obey, and have delightful outcomes.

Regardless of whether I obey or not, sometimes I see the results and sometimes I don't. But from all of the times that I have seen the results, it's convinced me that I have an incredibly loving Heavenly Father and that He's very interested in even the tiniest detail of my life. He parents me faithfully.

I hope that I will grow up to be a mature child, faithful in small things so that He can entrust me with more. That's where my heart is. That's what fuels passion in my life and fulfills me completely.

Jesus is the love of my life--no, He is my life and there is no life outside of Him for me. My wonderful Hubby and beautiful kids are amazing, but His love outstrips that love by leaps and bounds. Nothing can compare to Him.

I pray that every person could know this wonderful savior and learn to hear the quiet, yet unmistakable voice of this shepherd, father, king, intimate friend. What a love affair.

Plunder

One great reason to have 4 children is the booty that you haul home every October 31st. We found that Popcorn (our little lion) was the cash cow, combining cute and shy. Mix those two qualities and you're sure to get an extra piece and sometimes a whole handful.



Beyond that, they all have nice costumes. One horrid creature thing passed us and I told her, "Honey (we're in the south), you might just want to get a little more sleep and use some good detangler." Our crew was at least recognizable: a lion, colonial girl, Batman, Ben 10 (neighbor) and a very adorable monkey that kept raiding the overfill stash that we kept in the wagon.



The gang.



A very cute pilferer.



The loot! This was our big pile before we weeded out all hard candies, pixie sticks, taffy and gum. That stuff goes to the office. And what is left mostly contains good chocolate.

My personal stash is full for the year. Yea! for junk food. I think chocolate should be made a food group.