Stock Rooms, Dead Batteries and Overflowing Toilets

Another full, but good, weekend has come and gone . . .

Friday we experienced an unprecedented event: the kids and I left the house about 8:30, stopped by Grandma's to say hi and then headed to a mall about an hour's drive from here to meet my sister Hannah and almost-2-yr-old niece Esther. They played hard in the new kids' area and we all ate lunch in the food court. . . and nothing disastrous happened! The only disturbing events were 1)When Hannah got up from lunch to use the bathroom, I looked over at the little play area in the food court and NONE of the older three were anywhere to be seen (About 2 panic-stricken minutes later, she came out of the bathroom with all three of them trailing behind her), and 2)when a sales associate in Children's Place infomed us that these same 3 children were wreaking havoc in the stock room. However, we did manage to find some incredible deals (apparently, while our munchkins were busy ransacking the stock room) in the meantime, and I bought Rach & Zekers each 2 pairs of flip-flops at Old Navy. Zekers in particular was really pumped about "my new camouflage flip-flops." He carried them around all day in a special bag the cashier had given him.

The ride home was really precious, too. Karis was in her seat for about 1.5 minutes before she succumbed to her sleepiness; Zekers lasted about 10, and Rachel, who swore she wasn't tired and didn't need a nap because she'd had one 2 days before, was asleep about 15 minutes into the trip home. I'm surprised we didn't hit someone on the way home, as often as I kept looking into the back seat. I couldn't help myself.

Saturday Danny stayed with the muchkins while I went to a 4-hour meeting at the church, and he left shortly after I got home for a marriage counseling appointment. In the evening, Danny's mom, dad (who Danny respectfully refers to as "Homes"), and sister & her family came over to celebrate Danny's and his Dad's birthdays. Mmmm . . . stromboli, lemon cake, and lots of good conversation made for a memorable evening. And the Christian bookstore actually called during the afternoon to say the book I had ordered for his birthday (Above all Earthly Powers) was finally in - great timing!

Sunday I had much more fun than I expected! I was filling in for several people back in the nursery - registration, and infants/toddlers during first service. It was just Zekers, Kari Bou and their friend Noah. I had no idea playing with cars and trains for 90 minutes could be such fun. We also had a pretend picnic with plastic food (it's less calories that way, I guess!). I also like doing registration for second service and getting to talk with the children's church teachers before the kids all come back. . . and I even got to go into the service eventually and hear most of Danny's message. I always leave church with a bizarre mixture of feelings from the message: so proud of Danny I'm ready to burst, and convicted by teaching from God's Word. Maybe God will overlook the first because of the second . .. :-)

After church, I had a brief meeting, so Danny took the kiddos home for lunch. Following the meeting I left the church and got into his truck to head home. It refused to start. In fact, I evidently did something wrong while trying to start it, because the battery also went dead - and I realized the church doors were, in fact, locked, leaving me stranded in the parking lot. A little nervous, and very cold, I fortunately discovered my cell phone in my coat pocket and called Danny. This had to be God's providence, seeing that I rarely have my cell phone on me when I actually need it. So he came and rescued me from the freezing cold and we all went home to eat lunch. Danny left again to meet with a couple of girls who want to be baptized and I spent a very enjoyable afternoon making peanut butter/chocolate bars and reading! (A review is forthcoming)

When he came home, we woke up three sleepy munchkins and headed back to church for a "newcomers' class" Danny is teaching. I'm looking forward to the next 3 classes - we had a great time. The only mishap occured at about 7:30, when Rachel clogged the mini toilet (I won't go into detail), and Kari Bou & Vaughn (16 mo. & 12 mo., respectively) decided it would be fun to play in said toilet as it overflowed. Sarah, the babysitter, came and got me after she'd already mopped most of it up with paper towels. And I wasn't too worried about Kari Bou, who's played in (and eaten) worse.

So there it is, our weekend in a (very large) nutshell!

Wacky Wild Weekend (With Wierd Winter Weather)

Several weeks ago, the phone rang.

What set this call apart from most others was the voice on the other end. It belonged to Donna Misiano - a friend I haven't talked to in several years. She had called to ask us to come down to Richmond, VA, for their church's 40th anniversary celebration on January 21st. (A brief historical sidenote, without which this paragraph makes no sense: Danny & I moved to Richmond 2 weeks after our wedding, and he spent 2 years there as Youth Pastor.)

"Let me talk this over with Danny," I said, "and I'll call you back in a few days."

Mind you, I planned to briefly mention her call to Danny, agree with him that it was sweet of them to want us to visit, and call her back to politely refuse. And there were plenty of legitimate reasons not to go. Danny would have to find someone to preach for him on Sunday, and someone else to run a meeting after the service. I would have to find someone to do nursery registration for me, and we would have to miss a birthday party on Saturday night. Then we'd have to decide how on earth we would manage making 2 nine-hour trips with three small children in 4 days.

The more we talked about it, though, the more we were both convinced we needed - and wanted - to go. In fact, the chapter I was reading when Donna called (from Real Worship by Warren Wiersbe) was all about loving other believers, and how we often underestimate what a great encouragement our mere presence in a worship service can be to our brothers and sisters in Christ.

So Friday morning we took off and drove about 4.5 hours to Beckley, WV, where we spent the night in a hotel. It was a blast - we spent several hours alternating between the pool and the hot tub, which the kids absolutely loved. It was almost worth digging all of their swimming gear out of the attic the day before! Back up in the hotel room, Rachel & Zekers pretended they were dogs sleeping under the beds (I don't even want to think about what else was down there), and Kari contentedly ate fries out of the trash (left from our dinner) and off the floor. It's never any use trying to stop her - she just hunts down more gross stuff to eat. Then we put the kids to bed, and Danny & I read for a while by the bathroom. (It was the only light we could leave on if we wanted the kids to sleep, so we pulled up a couple of chairs by the bathroom door! It was actually kind of cozy.)

The next morning the kids pigged out on waffles & yogurt, courtesy of the hotel, and we drove the rest of the way to Richmond. This was probably the most fun drive of the whole trip - I kept excitedly pointing out grazing cows and beautiful mountains, until Rachel started sighing every time I made her look up from her Leap Frog to see the sights. The kids were unbelievably good; they listened to some CDs from the library over and over; the songs are now on "continuous play" in my head! Of course, Zeke had the second largest blowout of his life as soon as we reached the Misianos'. It was all over his clothes as well as the bed he was playing on. Luckily, I can never decide which outfits to pack because all their clothes are so cute, so we had plenty of extra clothes.

I cannot even describe to you how good it was to spend time with old friends, many of whom we'd lost touch with in the 7+ years since we moved away. It came out on the trip home that we had both secretly wondered if anyone would really remember us, or if many of the people we'd known would still be at the church. As it turned out, everyone we really wanted to see was there. I couldn't believe it - these dear dear people, who touched our lives so deeply during our first 2 years as a married couple, actually seemed to think we'd contributed something to theirs, and poured out on us love and thanks we didn't deserve. Even many who had left the church came back for the anniversary celebration, and we saw some of the kids we'd worked with in youth group (now in college students and graduates - yes, I felt quite old). What a gift. The weekend was such a whirlwind I realized on the way home that I hadn't taken any pictures, except a few of the kids.

The plan was to leave Richmond at 5am on Monday, but because of some impending bad weather we decided to leave Sunday afternoon. By the time the festivities ended and we got on the road, it was 3:30, and we ended up running into some snow and ice driving through the mountains. I can't remember just how many vehicles we saw wrecked by the side of the road. The fact that we were forced to drive at 35 mph most of the way back to Beckley ended up stretching the trip out, and getting us home at 3:30am on Monday. But the kids slept from 9:30 until we got home, which was a blessing indeed. The sort of icky part was that they only slept in until 7:00 that morning, but we were grateful to have arrived home before the roads through the mountains turned into sheets of ice.

And now, I can't help thinking that as great an encouragement as the trip was, I'm glad to be HOME! As much as we miss our dear friends in Richmond, I can't imagine leaving our family and friends, and our incredible church body, here. If God ever calls us elsewhere we'll go, of course, but I can't help praying that He'll continue to call us to stay right where we are (physical location-wise)! So, praise God for a great trip, and praise Him for a wonderful home to come back to.

Top 10 Strangest Places We've Found Stuffed Animals

10. Topping the centerpiece on our dining room table

9. At the foot of our bed, underneath the mattress pad (that wasn't nearly as strange, though, as the time I found Zekers thrashing around under the mattress pad)

8. In the pots and pans drawer (Larry and Bob)

7. In the dishwasher

6. In the cup that sits by the bathroom sink (small ballerina mouse)

5. In the VCR/DVD player

4. In Kari's mouth (very small, very soggy, yellow dog)

3. In the closet, wearing a mismatched pair of my shoes (large purple frog)

2. In my underwear drawer, wearing some of my underwear (plush pink bear)

1. Staring up at us from inside the toilet (a very large monkey)


But the sweetest place we've found stuffed animals: wrapped up in sleepy little arms at night.

Snip-Snip

It's amazing how a few scissor snips can change your life - for better or for worse.

On Monday, I realized my hair was badly in need of a trim. So, as soon as Danny came home, I took a trip to Great Clips, where I've gone to get my hair trimmed for about a year. I started going there when they first opened in our town because the prices were insanely low, and they did such a great job, I kept going back. The same girl has cut my hair the last several times I've been there, and she was every bit as good a stylist as the once I used to go to where I paid about three times as much.

I guess I should have known better than to go on a Monday - which generally for me have been disastrous. When I walked in, I noticed that none of the "usual" girls were there, but I didn't sweat it - after all, how much can you really mess up a trim? I got a little nervous as my hair was being cut - the "stylist" seemed to be sort of hacking away at it pretty randomly. And when she finished, I thought some of the layers seemed to be much shorter than they had been. But I reminded myself that normally after a haircut I hate my hair until I have a chance to go home and fix it myself.

It wasn't until I walked into my house and looked at myself in a mirror that I realized the dreadful truth: MY LIFE WAS OVER. I surveyed the damage, decided that I couldn't possibly be seen in public for at least 3 months, and burst into tears. Before my self-destructive trip to the salon, I had long layers all over. Now, the top layer was so short I couldn't even pull it back. And the rest of my hair was beyond description. I looked like I should have been on the set of Beverly Hillbillies. Danny even agreed (much later, when he was no longer afraid to come within 10 feet of me) that it was so bad he thought about offering to cut it himself to try to "fix" it.

The next morning my worst fears were confirmed: there truly was nothing to be done. I tried to forget about my hair and focus on other, more important things like feeding my children. But every time I caught sight of my reflection in the microwave door or a mirror, I started sobbing. I had never been this upset over a haircut, and believe me, I've had some doozies. What made it even worse was that during the past several months I've been losing a lot of hair and I can't figure out why. It's been growing back slowly, creating what looks like breakage all over my head, but I'm still losing it by the brushfull. So all I could do throughout the morning and afternoon was cry, and then realize that vanity and pride were no doubt the reason for all this, which made me cry even harder. I actually resented the sun for shining. Doesn't everyone know it's supposed to rain on days like these?

Anyway. I had pretty much decided that the only option would be to shave my head and wear a bandana until my hair grew out again, when Danny suggested I just go to a better salon and see if they could do anything.

If a few scissor-snips destroyed my life, all it took was a few more to put it right again. I tell you the truth: I was a new person when I walked out the door. I could look people in the eyes and smile, knowing that at least I wasn't offensively ugly anymore. I loved the stylist, who said my hair had been pretty badly chopped up but that she could fix it. And I decided that it was well worth the $27 I paid to fix the mess on my head.

I think I would have freaked out had my hair originally been cut this short. As it is, I'm so happy that if I was pregnant with Karis right now (instead of 18 months ago), I'd name her after the stylist.

Feet Cookies

I wasn't going to write about this. But every time I think about it, I can't help laughing, so maybe you'll get a little amunsement out of it, too.

Since Rach and Zekers can both open our side-by-side fridge and freezer, they noticed one day last week that I had some leftover frosting in the freezer from making cut-out Christmas cookies. So of course, this has been a very popular topic of conversation around our house in recent days. ("Mommy, when are we EVER going to use the rest of the frosting?")

You can only put Rachel off for so long - she is nothing if not persistent! So I decided yesterday would be a great day to finally make some more cookies and use up that blasted frosting. Rachel helped me make the dough Friday, and we planned to use some new cookie-cutters given to the kids for Christmas: a flower, a snowman, and a butterfly.

Here's where it gets a little bizarre. While we were at Wal-Mart getting a few odds and ends, Rachel spied some more cookie cutters. They were 50 cents each, so I told her we'd get one (hey, I might as well take advantage of it while she's little; I know when she's 15 I won't be able to buy her off so easily). Well, the one she had her eye on was . . . a FOOT. I just started laughing - I mean, who makes cookies in the shape of feet?? - and trying to get her to choose something like a cute little dog, or a heart, or something more cookie-like. But no - only the foot would do, so we marched up to the front and made the purchase. I thought, she'll just forget we even have it and we'll use the other myriads of cute shapes in our collection when it comes time to make the cookies.

While I was getting out several of them yesterday, which one do you think fell out of the container and landed right next to Rachel? I couldn't believe it. But her eyes lit up like it was Christmas again when she saw it. "Oh, Mommy, don't forget this one!" I sighed and thought, no big deal. I told her we'd just have to frost the feet either green or white (the 2 colors of frosting we had in the freezer). Well, when it came time to frost them, she threw a fit at the thought of having to eat a green foot (wouldn't you?). And what color did they have to be? Skin-colored, of course! I asked her, "How in the world am I supposed to come up with skin-colored frosting?" And she answered with the confidence of a 4-yr-old, "Oh, you'll think of something, Mom."

As it turned out, I ended up making another batch of frosting - half pink and half yellow - for the flowers and hearts. So I took a little of each color and blended them to make sort of a peach color, which finally satisfied Rach. It was my job to frost the cookies, and hers to add the sprinkles; and I couldn't help thinking the whole time, "I can't believe I'm standing here frosting FEET.

The best part is, we used up the green frosting on the butterflies and the white on the snowmen, but now, sitting in the freezer, is half of the yellow frosting, which we'll have to use up again. (Why can't I make myself throw anything away? Why?) At least this time I was smart enough to hide it behind the peas. . .

Entropy

If I've heard it once, I've heard it 100 times: "A woman's work is never done!" And why is this? The answer can be summed up in just one word: Entropy!

Danny informed me one day - jokingly - that my job falls into 4 main categories: laundry, cleaning, cooking, and conjugal duties (not necessarily in that order). We laughed, and I punched him, but it's true! As a stay-at-home-mom, much of my time goes toward tackling the mountains of laundry that have accumulated in the last 2 days, making sure there's enough food to satisfy five stomachs three times a day (sometimes more!), meeting the emotional/physical needs of my husband and children, and continually wiping things off - sticky surfaces, dirty faces, poopy bottoms; you name it.

I am extremely grateful for the opportunity to be home during the day with my children and actually enjoy most elements of this calling. The downer, however, is the fact that nothing I do ever stays done.

It is absolutely the best feeling in the world when I finally get the floors scrubbed, the bathroom cleaned, the rugs vacuumed and the house smells clean and fragrant. I look around our immaculate, thouroughly disinfected house, and sigh with contentment as the sun streams through the windows. This lasts until the munchkins wake up from their nap, or until the next meal, if I'm lucky. I often have to resist the urge to tie my little darlings to the sofa so they CAN'T mess anything up for at least an hour. Sometimes I strap them all into their car seats before we leave the house, and then I give them each a cheese stick, and dash back into the house to clean up while they can't follow along behind me, undoing what I've just done.

And then there's the laundry. Does anyone anywhere ever have the experience of ALL their laundry actually being clean and put away?? Even as I take the last load out of the dryer and begin to fold and put away little clothes, more dirty ones are accumulating. It's the same with dishes. I've often wondered how I can spend so much time washing dishes and loading/unloading the dishwasher, yet both sides of the sink are always full of dishes!

I love to cook, and I love creating healthy (sort of) meals for my family that they enjoy. But unfortunately, I can't just give my family one meal in the morning and expect it to last the week. There is always another meal to be fixed, no matter how large or delicious the previous one.

As for the last item . . . all I can say is thank goodness it's so enjoyable, because this is another area that needs continual attention!

The fact is, my job would be much easier if diapers stayed clean, books could be read once and memorized, doors and walls remained fingerprint-free, and laundry stayed neatly folded in perfectly-organized closets and drawers.

But none of this happens. I know that when I serve around the house, I am performing tasks which will have to be redone in a matter of days, hours and even minutes. But this also makes me thankful. Thankful for the life in this house and the day-to-day activity that make constant clean-up a necessity. Thankful that my kids are able to dirty their clothes and eat constantly. Thankful that this life, where things like death and entropy rule, is a constant reminder of a better life to come - an eternity with Christ Jesus "where moth and rust do not corrupt, and where thieves do not break in and steal."

New Year Intentions

Although I'm less than 4 days into it, this week has been a rather difficult one, as weeks go. This is mostly because some recent events have forced me to take a good hard look at myself, and in so doing I've been confronted with how far I am from what God has called me to be.

So instead of making a list of worthless "resolutions" which I know I'll never keep, I've chosen just a few things that I want - no, need - to pursue more intentionally than I have the past 12 months.

Study of God's Word
I have plenty of excuses. After all, who can consistently make time for God with three small children running around? The funny thing is, I somehow find ample time for things I truly enjoy: scrapbooking, blogging, practicing guitar (on occasion!), watching Lost (when it actually airs) and 24. Why, then, can't I seem to regularly make time for God?

The fact is, I am only hurting myself. I'm depriving myself of time spent in the presence of my heavenly Father, to whom I owe everything, including my life both present and future. 2 days ago, when the kids were finally in bed napping, it hit me how I miss this time - how I miss HIM, and I put my head in my hands and cried like a baby. Then and there I decided a lot of little things have got to change. I need to start going to bed a little earlier so I can rise a little earlier and start my day with Him. If it doesn't happen first thing in the morning, there's no guarantee it will happen at all.

There will always be excuses. I will never reach a point in life where time suddenly begins to multiply itself and I wonder what I'm going to do with it all! As much as I long to spend time with God, it will never happen unless I discipline myself to take the necessary "small" steps to get there.

Reading
I used to read for pleasure. I read everything I could get my hands on, especially books by CS Lewis, Phillip Yancey, and other favorite authors. But once again, I've let the "I-have-three-children-and-a-husband-in-full-time-ministry" excuse keep me from pursuing this love in recent years. (Good grief, I never realized what a whiner I am!)

I thouroughly enjoyed reading and reviewing this book, because of its convicting content, and this book, because even though I didn't agree with much of it, this forced me to study Scripture in order to discern the truth. Also, critical thinking sharpens the mind. Which is why I'm totally embarrassed that the last time I finished a book was back in July.

Time with friends and family
If I had a dollar for every time I said, in talking with someone, "Sure, we'll get together soon!" I'd be able to purchase the scrapbooking supplies I've been wanting. If I had a dollar for every time I actually took action to make it happen, I might be able to afford one frappucino. Sad testimony to the kind of friend I've been lately.

If you're wondering why I've not mentioned being a better wife and mother, I believe the above list (mostly #1!) will help me work to that end. Being in the Word more cannot but overflow into every area of my life, making me a better disciple, and then a more godly mother, wife, friend, and overall servant of Christ.

I know that I will not have a perfect year in regard to these things, but 1)that's why they're not resolutions, and 2)I will do it in God's strength, not mine. Thank heaven for that!

Ouch!

My darling little boy said something to me tonight that no one has ever said to me before.

As we put Rach and Zekers to bed, they both begged me to rub their backs and sing to them - something I do about every third night. I sang to Rachel first: "Hark, the Herald Angels Sing" and "Beauty and the Beast." Then it was Zekers' turn. I sang "Your Froggy Friend" (a song I conjured up one night when he kept asking for a frog song and I couldn't think of one). Then we sang together "Mary had a Little Lamb."

I kid you not, these were the staccato words that greeted my motherly ears as soon as I finished the last word of the song: "Now get out of my bed."

I think it was the word "now" that caught me most off-guard. Like he was saying "You've served your purpose; now get out!" A more "adult" expression (which I won't put down on my G-rated blog!) of this sentiment comes to mind.

I always knew this kind of thing happens when boys come to a certain age - an age where they no longer crawl up onto their mother's lap for snuggles and never want to be kissed. But at the tender age of 2?! This is the little boy who used to put his hands on either side of my face, say "I love you, Mommy," and give me not just one kiss, but TWO, and a big hug.

My heart has been pierced by a thousand arrows, and my loving husband, who overheard the whole exchange, just sits there and laughs hysterically. We'll see how he feels when Kari Bou says it to him someday. . .

R-Rated Fairy Tales?

". . . and then we ALL DIED!"

Rachel paused dramatically, waiting for my response to her "dream" from the night before. And I may have given her the horrified reaction she hoped for, had it not been about the 87th such story I've heard from her in the last 2 months. I've been scratching my head over her recent fixation with death, revenge and violence. I've asked myself: What would make a 4-yr-old think about such things? Are we letting her watch too much TV? (She watches about 5 hours per week.) Do the shows/movies she's watching contain violent material? (Maybe, if you consider Veggie Tales, Dora and Arthur to be dark characters with a death wish.) Do her friends talk this way? (Not that I've observed.) What, then, could be the cause for this newfound infatuation with death?

And just before bed the other day, it hit me: I've been questioning the wrong form of media!

Nothing in this world delights the hearts of our little ones more than being read to. As long as you will read to them, they will sit there hanging on every word. (I guess they get it honestly - as a child, my parents quickly caught on that the most effective way to punish me was to ground me from reading. Sick, I know.) It's really not even necessary for us to read to them now, as they have all their favorite books committed to memory. Which brings us to the culprit in Rachel's "death obsession": bedtime fairy tales!

I sheepishly admit that for years I've been duped by beautiful illustrations and cute characters and tradition, and most of all, by the innocence of the words "fairy tales." As I read through some the other day, I was flabbergasted by the content of many of these children's stories. For instance:

Hansel and Gretel
During a famine, a poor woodcutter's wife actually persuades him to leave their 2 children, Hansel and Gretel, deep in the woods so they won't have to feed them anymore. The children find their way back home, and the woodcutter once again takes them into the woods, leaving them to die. They instead stumble upon the cottage of a witch, who takes them captive and tries to fatten up Hansel in order to eat him. They outsmart the witch, pushing her into an oven so that she cooks to death. They return home to their father, who, like any father worth his salt, hasn't had a moment's peace since leaving them to die in the forest. (The stepmother has since died, so everyone lives happily ever after.)

Henny Penny
This delightful story takes the reader on a fun little romp. Henny Penny discovers that "they sky is falling" when an acorn falls on her head, and sets off to tell the king. On her way she picks up the incredibly gullible Cocky Locky, Ducky Lucky, Goosey Loosey, and Turkey Lurkey. The unfortunate group meets up eventually with Foxy Loxy, who tricks them all into entering his cave. Henny Penny gets cold feet at the last minute and runs home, leaving her faithful following to their doom. The end. (OK, the story never goes into detail about their fate, but come on - what chance do 4 hapless fowl have against such a foe? And this inevitably leads to questions such as "What happend to Ducky Lucky in Foxy Loxy's cave, Mommy?" What parent wants to be the bad guy who says, "Well, sweetheart, he ate her for lunch"? Instead, I have to make up some elaborate lie in which they all have a big party together or some such nonsense.)

Snow White
A jealous queen orders a woodsman to take her stepdaughter into the woods and kill her. He's such a nice guy, he can't bring himself to actually kill her, instead just leaving her there to die alone. When the evil queen discovers the girl is still alive and living with 7 cute dwarves, she tries three times to murder the girl, through various deceptions, finally nearly succeeding by giving her a poisoned apple to eat. Of course, it all works out in the end when the prince comes to wake her from her coma with a kiss.

The Three Little Pigs
Three little pigs build houses of straw, wood and brick. A big bad wolf blows down 2 of the 3 houses and immediately gobbles up each terrified occupant. The wolf, stung by multiple failures to eat the third pig, decides to enter his house by climbing down the chimney, saying, "Pig, the time has come to eat you up." The wolf goes down the chimney, falls into a pot of water and is boiled alive. The end.

Then there are stories like Jack and the Beanstalk, where a poor boy steals a bag of gold, a magic harp and a magic hen from a giant (it's ok, because the boy and his mother need the items much more than the mean giant does), but it all works out in the end when Jack kills the giant, who is trying to get his stuff back. Again, this is a good thing, because the giant is mean and ugly, and also a bad poet.

The fact is, I read stuff to my kids that I wouldn't let them watch on TV! I began to wonder, what are these books teaching my little girl? That "stepmother" is a bad word? That forests exist for the convenience of people who want to kill their children? So I did a little research on the origins of fairy tales and discovered that although large numbers of literary fairy tales were written in 17th century France, most of the tales which are still told and retold now are far older in origin . . . Literary fairy tales of great imagination and invention, often quite cruel and gruesome, were being created by the women surrepticiously rebelling against the contraints placed on them by their restrictive society. They were not written for children.

From this, I have concluded that I should win "Mom of the Year" for reading my toddlers books that teach them about the politics of 17th century France!

A Week to Remember

Not only is this my first post of the new year, it is also my 100th post! Of course, neither of these facts guarantees that the contents will be any good, but you're welcome to read anyway . . .

I've had the most wonderful week - truly an undeserved gift from God (and what good thing isn't?).

The week before Christmas, Danny took a half day off work to find a Christmas present for me. Although I'm still not convinced the trip wasn't 97% motivated by the prospect of having lunch with good friends who work near the mall, this was incredibly sweet for a couple of reasons: 1. It was about 3-4 days earlier than he normally shops for me, and 2. He went bargain shopping - he actually hit several stores and compared prices, before purchasing my gifts at half the normal price. I couldn't be prouder or more touched. Seriously.

The only problem was that one of the gifts didn't quite fit right, so we went back to the mall the day after Christmas to exchange it. Unknown to us, a little fuzzy caterpillar had crept onto one of the strollers we threw into the back of the Explorer, and decided he also wanted to do a little after-Christmas sightseeing. He entertained Rachel all day - she hardly took her eyes off him. He crawled all over the stroller, ate lunch with us, spent time at the play area, came dangerously close to being eaten himself (by Kari Bou, of course), and ended up in a styrofoam cup on the drive home. It was a beautiful thing - her eyes sparkling and her little face filled with wonder over something I wouldn't normally have thought twice about flicking off the stroller in the parking lot. Sadly, he didn't last the night, although we supplied him with leaves and grass and even a twig.

The remainder of the week was spent working on projects: I sorted and folded and organized mountains of baby & kid's clothes, finally managing to fit them into 6 32-gal. containers and 8 18-gal. containers. Danny helped me sanitize all the toys in the nursery. We took down the remainder of our Christmas decorations. We had dinner with friends Friday night and Saturday night. We spent the morning with Mom & Dad on Saturday, hanging out and opening the gifts in our stockings, and eating the most delicious bean casserole for lunch.

On Sunday, Danny left for church 90 minutes early, so he could have some time to pray before getting up to speak. (After the morning's message, I told him he needs to do that every week!) As I began herding the kids out to the car for church, I noticed Zekers was wearing a black afro wig he received for Christmas. And do you think he would let me remove it from his head? Not a chance! (This was probably my fault for collapsing on the floor and wetting myself when I saw him) Since we'd already had a typical Sunday morning (If you have kids you know what I mean!), I decided it really wasn't worth fighting him over and left it on. So he spent ALL of Sunday morning wearing the thing, until his nap after lunch. My son is definitely not worried about keeping up appearances!

That night we rang in the new year with some friends and Zekers got sick. He went to bed at 7 with a fever and cough, and laid around all of New Year's Day. In fact, we all did. We did absolutely nothing all day, except eat and lay around! I made tofu pancakes and sausage for lunch - one of the kids' favorite meals - and we played and napped and snacked on leftovers and basically frittered the day away. How wonderful.

Oh yeah - Karis took a rather un- conventional bath. I had just bathed Zekers, hoping it would help him feel a little better. Several minutes afterward, we discovered our Kari Bou had decided she needed a bath as well, only she hadn't bothered with the little details, like removing her clothes and shoes. Fortunately for her, she's darn cute, and was obviously having the time of her life, so we ended up stripping her down and letting her take her bath. The only thing she loves more than stuffing her face is bathing.

HAPPY NEW YEAR!!