Way Awesomer

Wow...would you look at this...my blog is still here. 

I've dropped in to say, "Hi."  Many of you have been really sweet about missing me.  Though those of you who actually know me, and see me in person, (and by in person, I mean on Facebook, because let's be honest...I don't get out much), I know it is not me you are missing when there is no blog.  It is the blog.  Which is a way awesomer.  

But, I am rusty.  (I can barely type anymore!  I had to ask Hubband where to find that exclamation point.)  And, I feel like I need to catch everybody up before I just start posting again. 

So, let's catch up!  (Found it myself that time.) 

September to January is our busy season.  And this is why...

There's school.  I do that at home.  You might remember this big day back in mid-August.

Then in late September, we celebrated Sam's birthday.

If you think he has a blue smile, he does.

That used to be Cookie Monster.

Then, two days later, I left on vacation.  All alone.  [A hush falls over the room.]  Well, not completely alone.  My mom and I went on a whirl-wind cruise of New England and Eastern Canada.

It was awesome!  I finally got to meet Boston, and my friend Jane, and the Rockettes (yes, in Boston!), and my first Dunkin' Donut, and Canadian airport security.  I was nude-y scanned and they took my maple syrup.  There is a lot of story here.  But, I should save it for another day.

By the time I got home it was October, and we had to catch up on school.  This involved, baking an apple pie...

..."churning' our own butter...

...and, some "real" work.  Like building and using an anemometer. 

There was the annual apple picking trip...

 and the annual pumpkin patching trip...

and the annual Halloween.

In November, Cate turned three.



We celebrated by taking her to her first movie.

Yes, she look a little manic.  She's drinking a soda, and eating popcorn, and watching the biggest TV she's ever seen.  And, it's her birthday.

We had Hubbnad's family stay with us for Thanksgiving.  I cooked.  The turkey was dreadful, but the sides are always more interesting than the bird anyway.  My oven has never been so proud of itself.

After Thanksgiving things slowed down a bit.  There were only three more weeks of school until Christmas break, when there would be time to breathe.

So, we decided to move.  On the tenth of December, we decided to move on the nineteenth.  We could have waited until the first, but I thought I would rather spend my school break unpacking the new house than living half-in and half-out of boxes at the old house.  It sounded reasonable.  It would have worked too, if it weren't for that meddlesome Christmas.

We spent it at my mom's which made it easier.  And, Nana enjoyed having all of her grandkids under one roof, and they enjoyed being there, even if you can't tell from the best picture I could get of the four of them.

We rang in the new year with family, and more family.


Then Jonah turned 7.

Notice how there are no pictures of Jonah's birthday party or cake?  That's because he had neither.  We chucked him a new box of Legos, and told him we'd make it up to him next year.  Okay, so it wasn't quite that bad.  We did celebrate the way he wanted to.  And Hubband and I promised each other that next year, we will pace ourselves.

Well, that's it.  You're caught up.  

Also, I have widened my page to allow for bigger pictures.  I am interested in feedback.  Is it too wide to read?  Are the pictures too much?  If you have an opinion, please, don't keep it to yourself.

The Week in Kids

This week...
(Or sometime in the not too distant past.)

Upon seeing this picture, Sam said, "He has to take off his beard and put on a mouth for dinner."  Perceptive kid.

Also this week...

...was Christmas.

Really, it is mostly a blur.

Also this week...

Cate wore pajamas under her party dress.

Who among us has not wanted to do that?

Also this week...

No Bible sits on the shelf collecting dust in this house.

Also this week...

We made our homeschooling decision final, when these arrived.

Seventy-six pound of kindergarten curriculum in eight boxes.  (The small white one was already ours.)  How can we back out now?

Merry Christmas and Happy New Year everyone!!!

See you next week, and year!

The Week in...

This is usually where The Week in Kids post goes.  But, there has been other stuff this week too.  And the kids have kept me so busy, I forgot to pay attention and take notes for you all.  So, we are going to lump all of this week's news in together.  Consider it a bloggy austerity measure.

I will start with the kids though.

This week in kids...

Jonah and Cate made up a new game.  It is called "ride."  Cate says, "Ride, ride."  Jonah sits on the couch.  Cate climbs on his back.  Jonah stands up.  And away they go.

If you think this can only end badly, you would be wrong more often than not.  As a mother, I was apprehensive at first, but they seemed to be having such a good time together (together is big), that I decided to stand back, and watch closely.  The picture is actually one of their very first attempts.  Jonah is much better at it now, with practice.  He reaches around and holds her up well, and she hangs on without strangling him.  The biggest problem is when Sam wants to play his new game called "push."

Also this week in kids...

Cate met her inner mommy.  If you don't recognize this set up, it is a changing pad, a diaper, and wipes.  Oh, and a "baby."

First, the wipes.

Then, the diaper.

Then, the little mommy shows off her dry and happy baby.

"Who you callin' happy?"

Also, this week in Christmas...

The kids really, really wanted to decorate for Christmas.  I could have gotten out all of the decorations and put them up.  But, then they would have been bored.  Instead.  We have done one thing every day.

First, we made a paper chain, for counting off the days until Christmas.  A fancier name is an Advent Calendar, but we aren't fancy.  You can sort of see it along the top of the stockings in one of the following pictures.

Next, I put up the tree with lights.  The next day, came the ornaments.  And, threats of severe harm, up to, and including death, to any child who dare touch said ornaments.

Then the stockings.  Aren't they lovely?  That is a happy mantel.

One day, I cut out stars and had the boys each decorate one with glitter.  I then glued them together so that they would fit nicely on top of the tree.  This is Jonah's side.

At some point, the talking Homer-Santa was put out.  I'm sorry the picture is so bad, but honestly, the best part about the talking Homer-Santa, is the talking.

He moves up and down, grunts a little, as he is stuck in the chimney,  and says things like, "Oh, great!  The one night I don't have a pocket full of bacon grease."

We also made ginger bread cookies, of which no evidence remains.  Funny that.

Next week, I will put out my beautiful nativity scene.  My mother in law gave me the first pieces, and my mother gave me a few more pieces later.  I love it.  But I need to prepare a place for it, as it break, threats of harm and death aside.

Also, this week in Betsy...

Betsy, my bloggy friend, from My Five Men, was kind (of awesome) enough to send me some of her famous(ly delicious) cookies.  They were chocolate with chocolate and did I mention the chocolate.  A half dozen of the most scrumptious cookies, arrived in a tidy box, with packing poopies and everything.  The cookies themselves were separated by hand cut doilies and wrapped in cellophane, with a hand tied bow.  The whole thing sounds lovely, doesn't it?  All I have left is the note.  (Don't judge me.)

Well, that is all for now.  I will try to take better notes next week.  Darn my kids, they are growing up so fast, they haven't done anything clever all week.  They just don't care that I have a blog to write.

See you next week!

For These Things, I Am Thankful

Freedom from Want, by Norman Rockwell

This list is by no means exhaustive, or even thorough, but it is what I have to offer on this Thanksgiving Eve.  In no particular order...

I am thankful that we made it 1000 miles to visit Grandma and Grandpa, yet managed to just miss all the ice and snow.

I am thankful for the DVD player that straps to the back of my headrest, giving my children something to do for the fifteen hour, two day drive, besides ask, "Are we there yet?"

I am thankful that Jonah spent all day today on the farm "adventuring" and not once asked to play a video game.

I am thankful for Cate's laugh and playful personality.

I am thankful for Samuel's cuddles, saved just for me, and sometimes Daddy.

A cold attic room (shared with my smallest children, sleeping soundly) a warm, pre-heated bed (thank you, electric mattress pad), and my net-book.  Hubband has not flown in yet, so I am cuddled up with you folks, for whom I am thankful.

I am thankful for Nana and Grandma, and all of the other people who have my back and pick up my slack.

And Hubband and Jonah and Samuel and Cate, healthy and happy, all.

I am thankful for my salvation.  Thank you, Jesus.

I am thankful that, compared to many people in the world, I live this a queen.  Thank you, God. 

Hot running water, flushing toilet, a big cold box called a refrigerator.  Let's not take these things for granted people.

And, to quote the lyrics of the song Sam sang at his Friendship Feast...

I'm glad I'm not a turkey, a turkey, a turkey

I'm glad I'm not a turkey on Thanksgiving day.

They stuff you, and baste you, and then they want to taste you.

I'm glad I'm not a turkey on Thanksgiving day.

Happy Thanksgiving everyone!!!!

October Is The New December

 Well, as October comes to a close, I must say...It is about stinking time.  This has been the busiest month of my life.  Yes, I know.  I am prone to hyperbole.  But, I mean it this time.  People talk about how busy the holidays are.  This year, at least as far as I know, they have nothing on October.

We had nine trips to the doctor, two to the dentist, and three to the pharmacy.  Two Fall Festivals, two class parties, and one Trunk-or-Treat event.  Four occasions for which the children were expected to be in costume, and that is not counting Halloween on Sunday.  Two separate cookie dough fund raisers, and two different picture days, for two different schools.  Two food drives, two raffles, and two parties for which donations were given (and willing, too, but they added to the chaos). Two field trips, one I chaperoned.  Two days as class mom.  Two parent teacher conferences; one for good, one for evil.  One letter from the Washington State Bar Examiners (he passed!!).  One date night.  One Church Fellowship Dessert.  And, one Wild Thing named Etsio, (that's him in the picture) hand made by Jonah.

So, to you, Holiday Season, I say, "Bring it!"  You don't scare me.  I lived through October.

More Recent Memories of the Fourth of July

We made s'mores for the Fourth of July this year.  Earlier in the week, when Samuel saw me bring home the ingredients, he was very eager to partake.  I had to put him off with, "No, no, honey.  Those are for the Fourth of July."  After that, he started calling the graham crackers "fourth" and the marshmallows "July."  And the s'mores?  Those he calls "Fourth of July," of course.  I think they may be called "Forth of July" in our house for years to come.

Jonah loved his backyard sparklers, and then sat atop the swing set, nestled in his daddy's lap to watch the various big time fire works shows in the area. 

A little girl's first sparkler.  He face was pure joy.

Memories of the Fourth of July

Hot days, warm nights.

  

Family everywhere.

Hot dogs, hamburgers, potato salad.

Grandpa always made homemade ice cream, in two flavors: strawberry and vanilla.  

Or, Grandma always made ice cream in two flavors, and Grandpa plugged in the electrical powered ice cream maker and got all the credit.  

Depends who you believe.

The ice cream was good and best eaten that same day, so we did our best.

Swimming all day, into the night, lungs taking on a little bit of water, wet cousins.

Fireworks in the back yard, some legal, some not.

Long day, late night, finally dark, finally quiet, cool sheets, damp hair, sound sleep.

Thank you God, for all the blessings that come with being an American.

Happy Fourth of July!!!!!

I'm Posting Again Soon...

...I swear.  I am still a little disoriented from our big news.  I skipped The Week in Kids last week and didn't even notice.  But, I will be back to some sense of normal soon.  We'll call it pregnant-normal.  Until then, I leave you with this candid shot (taken by my sister) of my mother and I enjoying our steam pots full of crab and other yummies on Mother's Day.  Bottom feeder are so tasty!

P.S.  If you are the praying kind, please send up one or two for our unborn.  We weren't expecting to be expecting, but now that we are, we really want to look into the face of God's baby.  (Proof that He has a sense of humor, no?)

Happy Mother's Day

Well, neither my children, nor their father wished me a Happy Mother's Day yesterday.  The only card I received was from my sister and brother-in-law.  But, Samuel did make me this lovely heart shaped pin out of buttons.  I love it!  I wore it everywhere.  He was very proud. 

Then today the boys were bouncing all over the furniture wishing each other a Happy Mother's Day.

You can't have your kids and eat them too.

A Fable for the New Year: Mia and the Two-Measure Bucket with a Hole in the Side of it, About Half-way Up

For the new year, I have written a fable.  It is about a girl named Mia who lives in a mushroom, and her bucket.  Mia has an extensive and fanciful back-story which I have edited out for brevity.  However, it is still not very "brev" for a blog post.  Thank you in advance to those of you who honor me by finishing it, and

Happy New Year to One and ALL!!!!!

Once upon a time, there lived a little girl named Mia. She lived with her family in a hollowed-out toadstool on the forest floor, painted with polka-dots. The toadstool was painted with polka dots, not the forest floor. That would just be silly.

Mia’s was a family of nomads. They moved from place to place, taking their toadstool with them, usually stopping close to a creek or river to have use of the water.

Mia fetched the water in the morning, her little brother Boonedoggle fetched it at midday (when they needed the least), and her older sister Catilda fetched it before dinner (when they needed the most).

Unfortunately, the bucket had a hole in the side of it, about half way up. Every morning Mia walked to the creek and scooped out two measures of water, for it was a two-measure bucket, and every morning, by the time she arrived home, she only had one measure of water to pour into the family cistern. Every day, day after day, it was the same thing. She would scoop out two measures of water and arrive home with only one.

This never seemed to bother Boonedoggle, the Dawdler or Catilda, the Perfect, but it made Mia very grumpy.

When she complained, which was often, Mother would only say, “You’re doing a fine job with the bucket, Mia.” Complaining to Catilda was no better. “I think it is a lovely bucket,” she would say. “I like to watch the water squirt out the hole,” was Boonedoggle’s contribution on the subject. Mia was vexed beyond description.  Until one day she had an idea.

The New Year was coming; the time when all the children of the forest can ask the Forest King to meet a special need. Mia was going to ask the King to fix the family’s bucket. She was sure this would be the end to her unhappiness.

So it happened, that on the eve of the New Year, after their chores were done and Mother had enough water in the cistern to wash the dishes, Mia, Catilda, and Boonedoggle, sat down to make requests of the Forest King. Each one written on a scrap of paper, and placed into a bottle, which Father corked. The children then walked down to the creek and dropped the bottle in. All water in the forest flows to the King.

The next morning, when Mia awoke, she went straight to the front door, and the hook upon which the bucket was kept. There it was, just like before. A two-measure bucket, with a hole in the side of it, about half way up. Inside the bucket was a note. It read,

Mia,
There is nothing wrong with your bucket.
The King

Well, Mia was beside herself with disappointment. She showed the note to Mother, who smiled and commented that not every little girl gets a note from the Forest King. She showed the note to Father, who laughed gently and ran his hand through her curls. She was going to show the note to Catilda, but by now she had gone from disappointed to angry, and figured there was no point anyway.

So, Mia grumpused off to fetch the water.

By the time she got to the creek, she was so angry, that when she scooped a bucket full of water, and it started to flow out the hole in the side of it, about half way up, she had no reasonable action left to a girl of her nature but to dump all the water out and throw the bucket into the forest.

There was a loud crack, and a yelp. Then a voice came booming out of the trees. “Who is throwing buckets!? I demand an answer!”

It was Winchester, a wise (and often extremely cranky) old hare. He emerged from the woods holding a sore spot on his head and Mia’s bucket. “So it was you, mercurial Mia? Explain yourself!”

“I am so sorry, sir. I was just so mad at the bucket, and…”

“Wait, wait, wait! Say no more!” he interrupted. “How can you be mad at a bucket? You are being ridiculous. Explain yourself!”

Now Mia was a bit scared, and crying, but she did the best she could to explain her predicament.

“Hmm. I see,” said the hare, somewhat less cranky than before. “Let me ask you this. Did the bucket have a hole in it yesterday?”

“Yes,” Mia answered.

“And the day before that?”

“Yes.”

“And the day before that?”

“Yes, yes, yes. Every day it has a hole in it and has had for as long as I can remember!”

“Then why are you mad at the bucket?” asked Mr. Winchester, sounding cranky again. “It is what it has always been: A one measure bucket that looks like a two measure bucket with a hole in the side of it, about half way up. To expect it to be anything more is folly. So, GO! Be mad in my woods no more, unless it be at yourself for expecting too much.”

With that, Winchester returned to his place in the forest, leaving Mia alone with her thoughts and her new one measure bucket.

Mia’s unhappiness did not leave her all at once. It took her some time. Luckily she had many trips back and forth to the creek during which to think. Eventually, she began to see the wisdom in what Winchester, the wise and cranky old hare, had said, and she learned for herself, what we would all do well to remember.

Every expectation is a potential disappointment. Expect accordingly.

Here at the threshold of two thousand and then, (Jonah's term for the new year) I resolve, with Mia in mind, to

• Stop expecting my five year old to act like an eight year old just because he has the vocabulary of one.
• Stop expecting to feel rested.
• Stop expecting my house to stay clean.

Hmm, I feel happier all ready.

( Original Art Work by Me, 
ball point pen and crayon
on copy paper, 2009
I take full credit because 
 no one else wants any.  )

What Rhymes With Babylon?

After all of the holiday excitement, today has been blessedly boring.

I have yet to find a home for the new toys, but I did get them sorted into three laundry baskets; one for each child.  (What am I doing about the laundry while my baskets are thus employed?  Don't ask.)

We played three games of Chutes and Ladders, which Jonah got for Christmas.  Jonah describes it as, "very chute-y and ladder-y."  That's good, right?

We started eating the ginger bread house.  It was a bit tough.  I had to dunk my piece in my tea.  Luckily I have a big, new mug.

We built three new train tracks on the train table we got last year for Christmas.

We are learning all the words to the Veggie Tales sing-a-long video, which we got two Christmases ago.  And I have to admit, any children's song with the lyric, "We could use him as a footstool or a table to play Scrabble on, Then tie him up and beat him up and throw him out of Babylon!" is okay by me.  (It makes sense in context.)

I'm sure there is something in the back of the house which needs tending (like the pile of laundry taller than my second child) but I'm okay with that.

I hope your ordinary life is getting back to normal.

The True Meaning of Christmas?

I’m a Christian. I take my Christianity seriously. Another thing I take seriously is Christmas.


I love Christmas. I love the smell of the Christmas tree, how it fills the whole house. I love waking up to Christmas lights in the house. They make it so much easier to get out of bed on a dreary December morning. Christmas carols everywhere you go. City sidewalks, busy sidewalks, dressed in holiday style, in the air, there’s a feeling of Christmas. Even my beige, suburban street looks beautiful with the Christmas lights up. I love Christmas shopping. I love wrapping gifts, giving gifts, and (yes, I’ll admit it) getting gifts. Santa Claus. Cranberry bread, fudge, Sees candy, egg nog. Peppermint mochas in red Christmas cups. What is not to love?

But, you see, none of this stuff has anything to do with Christ. And, I am okay with that. Jesus is not the reason for the season. Not really. He never was. No more or less than he was the reason for summer or Wednesday-before-last, and I could make the argument that he was both, but that's for another day.

Most scholars agree that Jesus was born in the spring. And in any event, there is no biblical imperative to celebrate Christ’s birthday. There are no birthday celebrations at all in the bible. Christmas only became Christmas so that converts to the early Roman church could keep their traditional winter solstice celebrations. I can imagine such feasts would have been hard for early Christians to part with. Since man left the garden they have been finding ways to break up the boredom of winter (and the backbreaking labor of the rest of the year) with feast days. Christ’s promises are awesome, but we are human, and sometimes, faced with the daily grind, heaven seems far away.

So, I am prepared to just let go and let Santa. Let’s all celebrate the secular holiday of good cheer and consumerism. Within reason of course. I am not encouraging celebration to the point of gluttony and sloth. That is what Thanksgiving and New Years Eve are for.

But, I have kids. So, this is where I am conflicted. Most of the world is clinging to the pretense that this is a Christian holiday. Not so much the non-observant Buddhists in Japan singing carol-karaoke in polyester Santa suits, but most of the people in the western world. So, I must too.

I am trying to teach my children the “true meaning of Christmas” without my cynicism over the true "true meaning of Christmas" showing through. Luckily, I have years of practice at stifling myself. Most of them unsuccessful, but at least I have been practicing. And, I also have this. I try to teach my children the true meaning of Christmas everyday. Everyday belongs to Him. So, it is that upon which I will focus. The True Meaning of Christ.