Man vs. Vegetable

A battle rages daily in our house. On one side, it's a battle for supremacy, and on the other - a battle for survival.

Nearly one year ago, I received a beautiful red shamrock plant for my birthday, which I immediately and proudly displayed by the largest window in the house, where it would be sure to get plenty of direct sunlight.

Life was good for the little plant - until Kari Bou began walking, that is. Since the day she took her first tentative steps (sometime back in June), she has had but one goal: search for and destroy shamrock! This mission has taken on various forms, including dumping the plant on the floor; tearing off and eating its leaves; body slamming it on any available surface; and pounding it repeatedly with a book.

Unbelievably, this little shamrock has fought back in its own way, refusing to go quietly into the night. With each new abuse, its stems develop new dents and its leaves look a little more bedraggled. But for every stem torn away, a new one always manages to grow. Once, when I was sure the poor plant was done for because every one of its stems appeared to be broken beyond repair, all three stems miraculously resurrected themselves! By now there are supposed to be at least 20 stems with leaves, all growing straight up and out. But, though stunted and bent, our little plant bravely holds its own.

So the battle rages on . . . baby vs. shamrock. Who will be the ultimate victor? To be honest, I fear for the plant, as Kari Bou has recently been compared to an "armor-plated rhino", and I can't say I disagree with the assessment. But, if it has survived this long, maybe it will hang in there at least until my next birthday . . . .

Ahhhhhhhh . . . .

I've just had the most wonderful day. . .

This morning started off with playgroup at our house - the first of many (I hope!). I wasn't quite sure what to expect, what with several inches of freshly-fallen snow on the ground and school closed for the 3rd day in a row. But we ended up having 6 moms and 11 children in spite of (maybe because of) the weather. I think we were all feeling a bit cooped up. The time spent with other moms, for me, was like wrapping chilled hands around a steaming cup of coffee (which a few of us literally did!). I thouroughly enjoyed the entire morning, including the fact that all the munchkins played so well together. At one point, there were at least 8 little ones sitting at our dining room table quietly eating their snack. Imagine! Of course, the quiet lasted for about 1.5 minutes, but it's so great knowing your kids are having fun.

This afternoon Zekers got a haircut. Danny was nice enough to meet with someone at our house, instead of at the church, so Karis could nap while I took the other 2 to the salon. Our little guy's hair has become quite the bush lately, and was long overdue for a shearing. Still, it's always a little sad for me to see his curls cut off. But he sat so still and acted like such a little man and was so darn cute afterward! He was a little anxious about the whole process at first, and wanted me to hold him, but I asked him if it would be ok for me to just hold his hand, and he agreed. So we sat there the whole time, holding hands. It is just the coolest thing in the world when your child looks at you with this total trust - all is right with the world now that you're holding my hand, Mommy - and adoration. I can't somehow put it into words.

Later in the afternoon Rach, Zekers and I played in the snow. I pulled them on the sled, they made snow angels and left footprints on every square inch of the yard, and we rediscovered the joy of sucking on icicles (until Rachel pulled one off the dumpster). They even took a "trip" down the sidewalk to the end of the block, "spent the night in a hotel" and then headed back. As they stumbled around and laughed gleefully and threw snow I couldn't help laughing, too, because they were just these short little people who think they're so grown up. And I know that all too soon they will be.

Rachel said to me afterward, "Mom, I'm not the same Rachel. I'm a new Rachel." When I asked her what was different about her, she replied, "It's like the old Rachel was flushed down the toilet and died and now a new Rachel is here." Not an atypical conversation to have when you're around Rach.

We came inside and drank hot chocolate - they got to put in their own marshmallows, which was a real highlight. We had dinner and watched "God Made Families" all snuggled up on the couch, a Wednesday night tradition. Rachel even got to join us since Cubbies was cancelled tonight.

And since Rach & Zekers haven't had a nap in a few days, but have had a lot of late nights and very early mornings, they were ready for bed at 7:30 - unheard of! - and I actually have time to post before watching the first Lost that's aired since November. Really, do days come any better than this??

A Rose By Any Other Name

It occured to me the other day that my kids may have a few issues, most of them revolving around animals.

First of all, a meal at our house which doesn't include a host of critters sitting on the table "watching" Rach & Zekers eat is an extreme rarity. Rachel loves to pile her Polly Pockets and various stuffed animals onto the centerpiece and all around it, insisting that they all find a "comfortable spot." Zekers, on the other hand, drags to the table an armload of little animals from his Little People farm, all of which must be lined up perfectly in front of his place setting with their eyes fixed on him. If just one is cockeyed - well, forget any food entering his mouth until the creature has been properly aligned.

OK, so probably a lot of kids go through this stage of wanting all their "friends" to accompany them to the dinner table. But even odder are the names these poor animals and dolls are forced to live with. Last summer, Rachel received a couple of fashion Barbie dolls from a freind of the family, and promptly named them "Hermie" and "Webster." The previous summer, she proudly named 2 favorite baby dolls "Shrum Shrum" and "Kir Kir". Zekers has 2 favorite cows from his farm; the brown one is named "Snowflake" and the white one is "Pickle Boy." (I am not making any of this up, I promise!) He also has 2 jousting horses; the red one is "Thunder" - a respectable horse name - but the blue one he simply named "Girl." Last but not least, his little blue stuffed elephant sports the name "Cook Elephant." And we are not allowed to refer to them simply as "your blue elephant" or "the white cow". No, it has to be "Zekers, please pick up Cook Elephant," or "I don't think Pickle Boy really likes drinking out of the toilet."

Probably scariest of all, they have named their bunk beds, although Danny and I must take much of the blame for this one. They both like to sleep on the top bunk, so we have them trade off every couple of months. To ease our son's pain at having to transition to the lame bottom bed several weeks ago, we encouraged them to name the beds, thinking this would help. So what names did they come up with? The top bed is now proudly referred to as "Squirt", and the bottom as "Crusty." It actually didn't help all that much to name them, and I now have the added bonus of realizing the names are pretty appropriate. Ew.

I only hope they grow out of this animals-on-the-table, and weird-names phase before they start dating, or they'll find themselves going on a LOT of first dates.

Snowy Day

Yea! We came back from our Virginia trip to several inches of snow - finally! Rach and Zekers have been begging to build a snowman, so I took them out the other day to play in the snow and make "Frosty." We picked out a carrot for his nose, a scarf to wrap around his neck, and 2 prunes for eyes (a gag gift from Danny's 30th birthday party which we still, for some reason, have in the pantry. At least now they're serving some purpose, I guess!)

Unfortunately, our attempts yeilded some pretty lame snowballs, due to the very cold temps, so we contented ourselves with producing a "snow apple" - Rachel's idea - pretty much just a ball of snow with a small stick at the top, which they gleefully ate (the snow, not the stick!), and then claimed it made them too full to eat lunch.






I just had to include this picture of Kari Bou in her "new" snowsuit; the first time we went out, she wasn't at all sure what she thought of it, and definitely wasn't too fond of the scarf, but she did much better the next day, and even posed nicely for the camera.












Zekers wouldn't hold still long enough for me to get a decent shot of him . . . he was way too busy running, yelling, and diving headlong into the snow.











For Rachel it was a dream come true. All winter long she has looked forward to making snow angels and finally she got her wish, although she wasn't too thrilled about her wet behind when she came back inside.

I had to laugh when I realized the total amount of time spent outside was almost equal to the total amount of time spent getting us all ready to go outside! But it was worth the effort, just to see them all having so much fun.

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.

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."