I like disgusting things!

That was the comment from my 7 year-old today as we left the ENT's office. As soon as it came out of his mouth, we both cracked up. He meant to say, "I like discussing things!" It just didn't quite come out that way. We giggled all the way to the car, and I have no idea what the folks in the office thought. It doesn't matter. We were enjoying one another.

The ENT visit went well. Miss Emily's ear canals are a bit twisty and curvy, but her hearing is A-OK. James was fascinated by all the audiology equipment. The audiologist was splendidly patient with his questions. Before we left, one of the assistants even showed him a CT scan of a sinus cavity. Talk about cool, eh? The ENT was also very cool, and handled James' scientific enthusiasm quite well. Even made a point to ask James to tell him when the time machine is ready for use. (James is convinced he can build one that will actually work.) Too sweet.

We picked up a few gifts for John's birthday. James and I had a blast at the toy store. We were like, well, like a couple of kids. There is some incredibly neat stuff available! The lady at the counter gave James a set of sample POGs before we left. *sigh* I do wish I knew more about them beforehand. The game itself is actually kinda fun, and we played a bit together this afternoon. It's the characters' names, and the images on the POGs themselves that make me a bit skeptical. I'll go searching for information tonight and come up with a final verdict.

Miss Emily waited patiently through the doctor's visit, the toy store. She Wal-Mart fairly well, and was a trooper at the Steak 'n Shake drive-thru (How could we pass up a milkshake on a day like today?) But when we stopped to pick up a movie for a family movie night, she decided she'd had enough of this junk. Can't blame her. I forgot that her little dress had a bow in the back and that couldn't have been comfortable on her, while she was in the carseat most of the day. Oops. Back to slip on britches and a t-shirt for that little girl! (I like her sense of style vs. comfort already - that's my girl!)

Zorak had taken the middle two down to the park this morning, then to the post office. They came home and hung out under the ceiling fans. When James, Miss Emily and I arrived home, he had lunch waiting for us (oh, so pampered! What joy!) - then he and Smidge napped for a bit, while the rest of us played games and chatted. As a side note, I have to say that I thoroughly enjoyed the day with James - it was such fun to have both ears to lend him and have the energy to keep up with and absorb him. He's a funny, sweet, quirky, neat kid. But, I also missed having John and Smidge around during the day. It's interesting to see how each child contributes so much to the tapestry of daily living. This is what folks mean by "rich" - my life is incredibly rich.

ANYway, once everyone was up, we gave John an early birthday present. He's been begging to watch Pirates of the Carribean for, oh, at least two years now. This month, he asked if six would be "old enough to watch it". You could feel the yearning as it radiated from his big brown eyes. So today was the day. Big fanfare - popcorn, lollipops, and the clickers at hand (just in case - it's been a while since Zorak and I saw it, and our retention isn't 100%, as evidenced by the whole Temple of Doom fiasco). We paused the movie a few times to discuss it and answer questions. Our concerns over the whole "undead" thing seem to have been fairly unfounded - Smidge played in the kitchen most of the time, and the older two just thought the movie was a wild ride, from beginning to end.

Now everyone has been loved on and snuggled, tucked safely into bed. I'm going to go try to muscle in on some of the floor fan action in the living room and see if anything's on the TV (all two channels that we get, ha!) This is Father's Day weekend - do y'all have any plans? I should see if I can get Zorak to guest blog for it, since I don't have any real words of wisdom to share on this Hallmark Holiday.

Kiss those babies!
~Dy

Blew My One Cool Outift

Miss Emily had a newborn (infant, whatever) hearing exam today at ten. I woke the boys early, and we ran to the store to get whipping cream (forgot to ask Zorak to bring some when he came home yesterday - not an auspicious beginning to the day). We came back, threw bread pudding in the oven, got everybody showered, dressed, fed, and out the door in semi-record time. We arrived five minutes early to our appointment - high fives all around! WE ROCK!

The boys filed into the chairs while I signed us in, gave insurance information, and signed the Declaration of, er, some large stack of paperwork.

Then we sat. And sat. And sat.

FORTY-FIVE MINUTES later, the receptionist called Miss Emily to the front to tell us they have our appointment down for *tomorrow*, not today. At ten. I have the paperwork from the referring office that says it was, in fact, for today, but since the main ENT is the one we're supposed to see, and he is in surgery today, it was a moot point. Somebody goofed, no biggie, really.

"But," said the chipper receptionist, "we have all the paperwork done and can just come right on in tomorrow!"

Um... Yay?

And how does the outfit come into this? Well, I have only one outfit that says,

"I am a totally together woman who showers daily, accessorizes, and manages all of this - renovating, homeschooling, parenting, and wifely duties - quite well, thank you."

ONE. I wear it to official appearances, such as doctor's visits and things at Zorak's workplace, in order to counterbalance the things the boys may add to discussions. (see yesterday's post)

I wear it because it's the one I want to be seen in if I must appear on the evening news in less-than-flattering coverage. (Much better than being photographed in Zorak's clothes and my militant boots... or worse yet, sweats and no bra with large leaky splotches on the paint-slathered t-shirt.) And now, they've seen it already! And it's not like the appointment was rescheduled for next week, when it could just be coincidence that I arrive in the same outfit. ARGH.

To make matters worse, this doctor is married to one of the wonderful ladies I've met here recently. They also homeschool, which is a huge plus. But she's really together. She's not "from here", but she can totally pull of that Metropolitan Southern Belle thing with wonderful flair. AND she has four children. It's not like she set the bar low, so us mere mortals can hurdle it. Gah!

I even bathed the baby today! She didn't smell of soured milk (which, in this heat and humidity, it sours pretty quickly, so hush). She was all pink and had a clean neck! And now I'm going to have to do this all over again? Pffttt.

At least if I bathe her again, maybe she'll be so stunningly cute that nobody will notice the stained t-shirt or the men's size designation on my jeans tomorrow?

Kiss those babies!
~Dy

Kinda Quiet

Well, after the hullabaloo last night, today was rather uneventful. Nice, really. Since I got more sleep in one night than I normally do in a week, I was up 'n at 'em early this morning, and that momentum just carried through the day. The kitchen received a stuff-overhaul (we SO need to get that pantry ordered!) The dining room got cleared out. The living room got a good scouring. We had a nice, hot breakfast, enjoyed our lessons, played a little chess, played outside, and just enjoyed one another's company.

The big event today: we all followed Smidge to the bathroom every few minutes to cheer him on. I'm pretty sure that James would be perfectly happy to go the whole day tomorrow without having to come look at urine. Yes, pretty sure. Yet he'll come, and he'll high-five, and he'll give big hugs. Why? Because he's a cool kid. Even when we interrupt his precious reading time, he manages to muster a smile before he hits the bathroom door. I owe that kid, big time! Smidge was dry all day, save for one accident early on - for some reason, he refuses to believe you can put solids in the little potty - go figure. But otherwise, dry all day, even after naptime! YAY SMIDGE! Naturally, there is a high-fructose corn syrup-based incentive going on. He may end up diabetic, but by golly, he'll be wearing big-boy pants when he gives himself those injections!

Tonight, Zorak laid the cement blocks down where the HVAC was, and will be once again. This time, however, the hole will resemble - or at least hit an order of magnitude of - the unit that goes through the hole. What a concept! Lookin' good down there, too. He's made a lot of strides in the basement. He used all the extraneous lumber to build shelving - it's not "pretty", but it's wonderfully stable and fully functional. It is amazing how much stuff one rack can absorb!

John is reading everything he can get his hands on. Yet, if you ask him if he can read, he says, "No." WHAT?!? Ok, whatever works for ya, kiddo. However, when you put each child's idiosyncracies together, it gets awkward in public. James tells people "We don't go to school." (Yes, period - not "we homeschool", not "we're educated at home", heck, not even a nod toward education with "we study a lot on our own". Nope, he's gone back to saying simply, "we don't go to school".) John follows up with, "and I can't read" and that's about when Smidge starts laughing and yells, "I FARTED!" No wonder the best days are the days we stay home, no?

But it was good. Miss Emily rolled all over the boys' room today while I read aloud, Smidge ran trains over my head, and the older two played chess. We had a great discussion about moving at your own pace, being able to master any task they take on, and having the ability to enjoy branching out as we encounter things they will enjoy. When we finished the read-aloud, they both took their math books back out and did a second page for the day.

I'd requested a catalog from Greek 'n Stuff so that I could talk with Zorak about ordering "Hey Andrew..." for this summer. I shouldn't have looked. Can anybody compare Latin for Children with Latin's Not So Tough? Pretty please? I'd sold myself on LfC, particularly for James. But this looks like fun. (Truth be told, I want to take it and avoid Henle, but I won't. Whatever I order will be for the boys, and I will be a grown up about it and get my own program.) In the meantime, we're plugging along with PL review and enjoying the process itself.

And I hear the baby girl, so it's time to call it a night.

Kiss those babies!
~Dy

Aaaaand.... she's OUT!

Cold, that is. By nine o'clock last night.

I only wish it was a pleasant evening that included a cooling bath, a foot rub, a few chapters in Heart of Darkness, and some maybe a little teacher in-service. But, no.

It was a migraine. So, my early evening included grilling kabobs outside, having a whomper of a time trying to narrow my vision enough to actually grasp the kabobs with the tongs. (The dog was hoping against hope that I'd fail.) An evening of moving very s-l-o-w-l-y in the hope that nobody would spot me and rip my brains apart by actually speaking to me. Especially not the small one with his nasally little, "Maaa! MaaAAA!" (Where did he get that accent? Ugh.)

I nearly exploded as I pureed the tomatillo soup. Rather than deal with the hubbub of having the boys set the table, I set it myself in *relative* quiet, called everyone to come eat, then grabbed the baby and headed for the cool darkness of our room to nurse and pray for death. Death did not come (retrospectively, I'm glad for that), but I did, at one point, leave a confused and screaming infant when I bolted from the bed and dashed to the bathroom to sacrifice to the gods for a while. I would rather puke from illness than from pain, any day. That is truly miserable.

Zorak is appreciated regularly around here, but last night the man earned his service stripes. He rescued the abandoned infant, coordinated the eating-o-the-supper, navigated the bedtime routine, and kept the general noise level to a dull roar while I laid in bed, doing my best impression of a demonic possession. It's nice to know somebody is reassurring the children that Mommy will be fine, when Mommy just can't muster that much strength. He even put Miss Emily down for the evening. God bless him.

This morning, life is beautiful. Much of that has to do with the fact that it's back in focus, less jarring, and more navigable, I'm sure. If we had plans to go anywhere, they've been scrapped - Zorak noticed on his way to work this morning that I'd left the door wide open on the Suburban yesterday afternoon when we got home. (In my defense, the headache had started on the drive home, three of four children were asleep as we pulled in, and there were the groceries to unload - I was a little distracted. *sheepish grin*) So I think we'll hang out, read books, maybe mow a little more grass (that lawn is the landscape equivalent of an all-day sucker!) and play ball. Sort of an impromptu day, but not so bad. If it doesn't get too hot, we'll try doing lessons on the picnic table out back.

And I need another cup of coffee!

Kiss those babies!
~Dy

Well, it *looked* hot...

It got pretty warm this morning, so I closed up the windows in an attempt to keep the house relatively cool. It got so hot inside that the playdoh lost its structural integrity. It was playgruel. That's just gross. The dog had food and water, two loads of wash had already been hung, so we didn't venture outside at all. We just lingered on flat surfaces and wilted.

Then Zorak came home. And the breeze that followed him in was *~*~*heavenly*~*~*. What the--? When did it get so nice outside? I bolted out the door and sure enough, the air was cool and breezy. Well, you don't have to tell me twice! I switched out the wash, threw open the windows and stuck fans in most of them, then interrupted a rather intense game of MouseTrap to inform the boys that it is beautiful outside and I don't know when this will happen again, so go, go, GO! We then we spent the evening on the porch. That was really weird. But I'm thankful for the reprieve.

Tomorrow, we're ditching lessons to go run errands and play with friends. The boys did math, Latin, and reading on Saturday and Sunday this past week, in addition to our regularly scheduled work week, so we can afford to call a spare. What a great option that is to have!

Hey, does anybody know where one can still purchase training underpants? They are cut like regular little kid undies, but are thicker and more absorbent. (So the mess clings to the clothing, which is a far sight better than trailing it about the house.) I tried three different Wal-Marts and one Target, but they only carry regular undies in Very Small Sizes and those Pull-Ups. I bought the Pull-Ups, but they're a tad too absorbent to really engage the give-a-sh*t gear in a toddler.

Wow, and the dog has figured out how to open the front door if it's not deadbolted. (He just let himself in.) That would explain a lot... We also need to reinforce our fencing. He's found the neighbors, and the neighbors are not happy. I wouldn't be, either, if a 50-pound, snarling, ridgebacked moose came traipsing onto my property. So, that's a priority to be added to the top of the list. Lovely way to meet the neighbors. We should have invited them over before now, but they're related to the people who built the place and... yeah, it's just awkward all the way around. Maybe after we've had the place bush-hogged again and we've fixed the fencing, we'll slip over and invite them for coffee and a look at Balto's rabies tag?

OK, well, I am going to try to get a couple of hours of sleep without Miss Emily's company (she is wrecking havoc on my neck, and I can't move my head far at all - I look like I'm recovering from a particularly rough bout of spinal meningitis at the moment).

Kiss those babies!
~Dy

Rollin', rollin', rollin'...

RAWHIDE!!

Of course, at the moment, I'm singing the Billy Crystal version, not the original. Weee-dawgies, am I sore! However, it's the excruciating pain of accomplishment, and so I will only whimper mildly and promise not to use swear words.

The Closet Room is now just about empty and ready for finishing. Who knew we had so much crap er, treasured material? That room had become the pat answer to the age old question, "Hey, what do you want me to do with this *insert random homeless item*?" From what I found today, it seems the answer is, "Just put it in the closet room and we'll figure it out later." Ah, well, who knew "later" meant "June 11th"? Now you know. And if you've been putting anything off until later, well, you missed it. And now you're behind the curve, so you'd best get on it, okay? Okay.

Did the thorough once-over on the boys' room: reorganized the bookshelf, culled the clothing, sorted/culled the toys, vacuumed, rearranged the closet, boxed and unboxed a number of boxy-like things, cleaned the ceiling fan. It looks much better now, and is just about ready for pictures. We're going to have to move Smidge and Miss Emily out of there soon, though - that poor room can't quite handle all the things and energy of three and a half children.

Zorak worked in the basement, worked on the icon shelf, changed the oil in the pick up, and hung the bow rack. Busy man, he. The soon-to-be-linen-closet is now sheetrocked and taped. The mud is drying and he'll put the second coat on tomorrow after work. It already looks scads better. I can't wait til we can put our linens in there and get them out of the hallway, the bathroom counter, the dresser tops. Yeah. That'll be nice.

Oh, and I'm SO excited! Zorak said he'd take the children for a few hours sometime before the HVAC guy comes back to set the units so that I can CLEAN! Yippee! I love teaching the boys how to do the daily things, but I must admit it's a quirky little thrill for me to clean when there are no children helping, no hubby meandering about, no toddlers coming in behind me to undo the work I've just done. And if I work quickly, I can usually get in half an hour to sit in a clean, quiet home with a good book and just enjoy looking up every couple of pages at the beautiful space around me. That's better than therapy and alcohol! *happy sigh* I love that man.

Today was really. stinking. hot. Thankfully, we did have water. Good stuff, all around. I brought out all of the family games we've purchased over the years (and spent good time and energy avoiding). But now, they're out. They are accessible. Smidge went nuts and I just melted when he asked, "Mama, play game with you?" So James, Smidge and I played a few games of dominoes before supper. Smidge "helped". James was very patient. John played a dinosaur memory game. He and Smidge built domino designs to knock down. It was, aside from the sweat pouring off our chins, quite idyllic. The chess set James got for his birthday last year was in the unearthed box, so it came out, as well. We'll add that to our afternoon relaxation time and see if we can develop any skill.

Zorak and I stood in the basement tonight, looking at all that still needs to be done and he said, "See that drain pipe over there? That's where we started." And I knew exactly what he meant. There is much still to be done, but it's nothing compared to what we have done already, and it's a good, good feeling. Standing arm-in-arm in a damp, disheveled basement, staring at pipes may not be everybody's idea of romance, but it did the trick this afternoon. How could I not be totally in love with a man who would do all this for his family?

And on that note, I am going to take a much-needed shower, check on the babies, and hit the hay. Have a splendid week!

Kiss those babies!
~Dy

The Kids Must Think We Hate Them

Here's what the day looked like, from their perspective:

Hey, kids! It's Saturday and Mom and Dad are unconscious! How long can you go without eating actual food?

And then, once they'd been fed and dressed;

You know what, kids? It's over 100 degrees today! Let's go from hot, un-air-conditioned antique shop to hot, un-air-conditioned antique shop... for hours!

Not that things looked any more promising at home...

The monster in the basement has taken Daddy! You won't see him today! That swearing and crying? No, no, he'll be fine... just fine...

We returned from the shopping trip without a dresser for Miss Emily, who is going to think we don't like her if, when she's old enough to remember this, she is still getting her clothes out of the boxes they were shipped in.

Well, now that you are thoroughly sweaty and probably dehydrated, why don't you go play in the dirt for a bit before supper? Yeah, that sounds like fun, doesn't it? Hup, hup, it's not getting any cooler out there!

You can wash your hands when you get --- Oh, no, strike that! We don't have any water. Ha ha. Silly children! No crying, now, go play while Mommy prepares something unidentifiable for supper.

**later, at supper**

Yes, it's cold. It's a salady... thing. Isn't it lovely to eat a cold supper on a hot, hot day? What do you care what's in it? It has protein. And it's probably good for you. No, we still don't have any water. Yes, that is something we take for granted, isn't it? No, you can't drink from the toilet. That's for company and emergencies, Honey.

Zorak and I were up late Friday night, working on the house. We're getting old and have developed a partial paralysis that kicks in shortly after the sun comes up. It's exacerbated by late night exertion. The kids held out pretty well on the food. I do believe they grazed from the counter, although there wasn't anything edible left out on the counter...

I did give them the pre-emptory antique-shop warning before venturing forth on the shopping trip. They did phenomenally well, actually, and received goodies, hugs, and plenty of compliments from all the shop owners. Well, all but that one that hates children, no matter how well behaved and polite they are. I think the boys decided the shops were worth it just to sit in the air-conditioned Suburban between stops.

While I ran the boys through the gauntlet, Zorak moved the water heater. He re-configured the pipes, and made a new manifold (the plastic PEX manifolds we purchased in December have not held up well to the ever-changing ecosystem of the basement, and for some reason unknown to all but the corporate moles who've bought stock in the company in order to force a hostile takeover in the future, Zurn refuses to make their brass manifolds available for purchase - so, fine, we'll just make some, then! Thhhbbttttt!!!)

This probably wouldn't have been much of an inconvenience (relatively speaking - he had it worse than we did, I'm sure) if he'd started before noon. But when you don't start major reconfiguring until noon, then there is no water for... drinking, cooking, bathing, merely washing your hands... until, oh, around midnight. And that can be a little rough when you have children, and it's in the triple digits both inside and outside the house.

Miss Emily probably had it the hardest. She was hot and miserable all day. And, being miserable, she relied heavily on her instinct that tells her being held will make her feel better. We call that *painful irony*. Sometimes instinct misses the mark by a hair or two, doesn't it?

So it was a long day for everyone involved. But, in the end, we are that much closer to having a/c, the children did comment on how much we take for granted (like cold water, specifically), how much they appreciate all we have (again with the cold water), nobody got lost... or ran off. We'll have a nice, long drive in the cool air of the vehicle tomorrow. After everyone's been bathed and fed, of course.

;-)

Some days it's all you can do to say, "Yay, it's over! We made it!" this was one of those days. I think I'll go whisper positive things in the children's ears before I head to bed.

Kiss those babies!
~Dy

Updates:

Gram: Things look as well as we could have hoped! YAY! She'll go home tomorrow, then go back for surgery on Wednesday. She's full of wit, and sick of being there, so I know being home for a few days will be so very much better for her body and spirits. Thank you for your thoughts and prayers.

Home: The Icon Closet has found a new identity (think super heroes) - it's going to be Linen Closet! It may seem a strange transformation, but if Coat Closet can become Utility Room, then this should be a snap. It does mean there will be no bejeweled Buddha squatting at the door to greet visitors, but at least we won't have towels and wash cloths stacked on the counter in the bathroom. HVAC progress is being made. WAH-HOO. Zorak bought one of those return registers for the main system - it's stunning what a difference that makes when placed over the gaping Omen Hole at the end of the hall. It was waiting to swallow Smidge one day, we just know it, and now we don't have to keep myriad things stacked against it as a barrier. Funny how something can go from frightening to walk past to not only intentional but somewhat decorative with just a little do-dad.

School: We lost James' math book today. Could not find it, although we looked and looked. We eventually gave up and he broke out another math book just so he'd have something to do. Well, I found it tonight while fixing supper. It was right there, next to the frozen broccoli... When I told him I'd found his book, and where, he said, "OH! Of course!" ??? Turns out he'd spilled something on it yesterday and put it in the freezer for safe keeping until we could tend to it. He'd seen me do that with books I've left on the porch during monsoons...

Everything else is going well. John's confidence in his reading skills is blossoming. Both boys are doing so well with lessons, and they seem to enjoy all they are capable of doing. Success is a tasty reward when it's earned through hard work and initiative. (That's a lesson I hope they carry with them for life - if they learn nothing else this year, they've learned that. This is good stuff.)

Poems: The boys love poetry. Nobody's told them it's drugery, and so they devour it with gusto and savor every morsel. Tonight we revisited one of our favorites: Now We Are Six. The boys can finish most of the poems themselves, which is so funny to me because I don't know them that well (and I'm pretty sure I'm the only one who reads them aloud around here). I started to read "Sneezles", when John informed me that I'd broached some unspoken protocol. You must read "Busy" first, and THEN "Sneezles". Ohhhh. I'm glad to know that, aren't you?

I'm a little melancholy at the moment over the fact that the boys are growing so old, so quickly. Gone are the cherubic cheeks, the swaggering gait of the toddlers. Their fears and dreams are different now than when they were two and four. Bigger, both. And new to me. It's intimidating to watch them grow and grow in such vigorous leaps. John will be six this month, and yet, in my mind, he's four. Forever four. But no. Six. One day six will seem so little. Six will be an age for remembering. Right now, though, it feels so big. So momentous. I've said it before, but it bears repeating: they will never again be as small as they are today. We have to savor every curious, stubborn, creative, exasperating moment of it because there are no second servings.

Kiss those babies!
~Dy

Family is Special

Family doesn't always mean blood relatives. Sometimes, yes, but sometimes there are bonds much tighter than DNA. Regardless of where we're blessed to find these bonds, we need not lose sight of them amidst all the hullabaloo and details of the Things That Don't Matter.

Today, the children and I spent a lot of time working together, working on manners and obedience. It didn't go smoothly, but it did go well. The day ended catching fireflies and laughing, sharing a story over gooey pieces of a WF version of Texas Sheet Cake we'd made this morning (came out more like brownies - but who's complaining, right?) We spent a little time today caught up on the little things, but pulled out of that nose dive in time to salvage the day and enjoy one another.

And then... Aunt B called to let us know that Gram has some health concerns. I won't go into too much detail, as I want to be certain to respect Gram's privacy and don't know how much the family would want shared. But you know, as I've blogged before, she's a special woman who has gifted this world with an incredible family, and I'd like to ask your prayers.

When you're in your mid-90's, things are bound to get a little wonky from time to time. And doctors tend to think it's all just elderly frailty. I am so, so thankful Aunt B knows her Mom isn't frail, even by AARP standards, and that she's such an awesome advocate for Gram. Thanks to her insistence that someone LISTEN, things will go better for Gram.

In the meantime, your prayers would be much appreciated. She's so special to so many people. Please remember her, her family, and her physicians over the next few days. Thank you so much.

Kiss those babies, and Grams!
~Dy

Academics and Such

Well, we are back in full swing, and it's going quite nicely. Tonight, John asked to read to me - which, of course, melted my heart! The boys are retaining so much and exploring so very much. I can't keep up! This does, however, fall under the "Gee, I wish this was the worst of my problems" category. This, I can deal with.

The critters that keep emerging? Not so much. We bug bombed before we left. Came home to a glorious dearth of crickets (of all kinds), and yet... there are new bugs now. Oy! What have we done?!? Well, it'll give us something to do, right?

We aren't really making any changes as we transition from last year to next year. (Notice we haven't really had a "this year", which may account for some of that...)

* John will move into Alpha. James will move on to Delta. That's it for math.
* We'll keep plugging along with Latin, although we might add in Greek this year, just for fun. We were planning to start it next year (um, next next year...) in earnest, but as well as they like foreign language, I'd hate to waste this time and opportunity.
* History is Story of the World.
* Art will be Drawing With Children - although not until possibly fall, as I need to work through it a bit first, and that's just not happening in the immediate future.
* Science is nature journaling, reading, experiments with Dad and discussions at the dinner table. Maybe a little more reading. (That's just such an effective and enjoyable way to gather information!)
* For religion, we'll continue to read through the Bible, supplement the church studies, and work on the catechism at home.
* Then there's the whole reading/spelling/language arts/grammar/miscellaneous other things category. We tackle that in one shot: we read. It seems such a simple thing, yet it's a powerful way to go. It offers the boys the quality education we aim to offer them. Latin helps take care of grammar specifics, and the rest comes from reading quality literature - discussing quality literature - pulling copywork from quality literature.
* Music - if we can find an upright piano that wants to come live with us and can get along with the house, then we'll add music lessons to the mix.

Well, that was relatively painless. Or, it was once I got over the idea that I can't buy as much as I'd like to buy for school next year. *grin* I'd love to purchase the SOTW supplemental reading books because we can't get our hands on them through the library. I'd love to buy more of the unabridged, unadulterated classic children's literature so we don't have to wade through the junk they have in stock at BAM. I'd love to buy all of the GA Henty titles... just to have them! Ok, ok, my slip is showing, there. I mean, the boys will read them, eventually. But still - y'all know what I mean.

However, I was very, very good this year. We were starting to panic a bit about how to pay for the HVAC upfront when lo and behold, in came extra money. I thought about hiding it in my pocket and bolting to the library (so I could order from Amazon under the radar). I thought about flinging myself on the floor and sobbing about how few books we TRULY have (*snort* like that one would go over!) But I didn't. I showed Zorak and waited for him to offer to let me go on a book buying spree. He didn't, though (I knew he wouldn't, but had to at least hope) - he said, "Hey, shall we buy an air conditioner?" I've never been so conflicted in my life. I mean, I'm a wuss when it comes to summer heat and downright petty about southern humidity... but these are BOOKS, Man! BOOKS, I tell you! Yeah, yeah, whatever. We're getting the HVAC. (I'll be glad for that come August, but for now it's still a little bittersweet.)

Found the math book I'd begun studying last... erm, January. Felt a bit sheepish about not having made it very far. Then I realized, hey, we've been a little busy the past year! So, I forgave myself, and we've decided to start up on that again. Tonight was my first attempt at it. Math still isn't my strong suit, but it is a lot more fun than I used to think it was.

On the forever homefront, I got two acres mowed, we made arrangements to make progress on the HVAC installation (that sounds so much more impressive than, "we still don't have a/c," doesn't it?) More planning and sifting and scheming.

Oh ~ the dumpster people came today and removed the construction dumpster!! Wow, our driveway is HUGE! We'd forgotten. James noticed that the view of the meadow and barn from the picnic table is gorgeous - right after he realized we now have a view from there... :-) Funny kid.

There was no pilfering of paper products today! At this point, I'd just call it a successful day and go find the peanut butter cups. And so, I am off.

Kiss those babies!
~Dy

Where Do They Come Up WIth These Ideas?

So tonight the older two boys got an idea. They decided it would be... mmm, fun? a good idea? remotely reasonable? We don't know what they were thinking, but we know they weren't showing a whole lot of sense. Ingenuity, perhaps, but not sense.

At any rate, whatever they thought it would be, it was good enough for them. So while Pinky slipped inside to get the toilet paper, The Brain waited outside for the fun to begin. Unfortunately for their plan of World Domination, Pinky was caught by The Man on his way out the front door with the toilet paper. "I was, um, just putting it... back. Yeah, back." And off he trotted, back to the bathroom. While he was gone, The Brain came looking to see what the holdup was.

The Man was suspicious to begin with, but that little slip up caused the Conspiracy Alarm to flash.

Bars clanged shut over the windows.

Doors automatically sealed themselves.

A crocodile hatched in the moat, er, creek.

Break out the pinatas and party favors and let the interrogation begin!

This is why some people drink, you know. It's not the plot hatching, per se. It's not even the use of toilet paper (although we did determine the end goal and affirmed that it was not, in fact, good for their health, mental wellbeing, or freedom in general). It was the sneakiness that got to both Zorak and I.

Lately, these two have developed a real "us against them" mentality - ("them" being adults). Mostly it's originated with James, but John will pretty much do whatever James suggests. (Oh, to use those powers for good!) And we don't get it. We've bent over backward to really push the team mindset - family sticks together, we look out for one another. And we walk the walk, too. We don't hold double standards for adults than we do for the children. We don't pit them against each other. Heck, even tattling isn't allowed unless you're trying to prevent someone from getting hurt or in trouble! So where they've derived this mentality is a bit of a mystery to us. However, we're going to unearth it and destroy it at the roots before we have to scrap the first two youth models and start over. Man, and we just got the complete set, too!

Thankfully, the smaller ones seem to be unaware of the cultural battle taking place. But it won't be long. Smidge's mastery of our language is improving daily, and he's a smart one, he is. And the little one - she's just so cute! But can we get to their little minds before they become corrupted?

Alright, alright, yes, I'll get my tongue out of my cheek now. I'm just tired. And slightly exasperated. I suppose it's time for a little one-on-one, a little gentle tomato staking, a little extra emphasis on the integrity that it takes to live life well. They're little. They do stuff like this. Of course, we're totally making this up as we go. It sure sounds good on paper, though, doesn't it? Much better than, "What the hell did we do wrong?!?"

Today my little world decided that we all needed to pile on the couch and read together, watch a movie, and play in the yard. I tried to be productive. I did two loads of wash - but there was no wind, and by the end of the day, those two loads were still damp. I tried to mow the sports arenas around the house - but the mower ran out of gas and Zorak didn't lable the gas cans (one has chainsaw oil, and I'm ashamed to admit that I have no idea what that stuff looks like). I tried to paint, but the prepwork woke Miss Emily - er, rather, my stifled yelps from stubbing my shins were more likely the culprit on that one. So we baked and cooked and then sat around, enjoying one another. Not a bad day, really.

Ah, but now to figure out how best to handle the remaining adjustments we need to make. We do know some people who would probably let them stay for a week or two. The boys would be thrilled beyond measure to get to come home after that. Probably pretty well-behaved, too. he he. But then, I peeked in on them sleeping... I snugged the covers gently over their shoulders and completely melted at those precious, spontaneous smiles as I kissed their little cheeks. I thought of all the times they do make good choices, or ask for help in making their choices. This isn't so bad. One day it might even be funny. Maybe. So we'll keep them. And love them. This is part and parcel of the job.

Kiss those babies!
~Dy

BabyFest!

So, Jess reminded me that I've been painfully remiss with photographs lately. We had fun sharing photos last night, and I thought I'd get off my tuckus and post some. Miss Emily has just grown and grown and grown! So today, in celebration of being able to raise her in the home she was born in (ok, the home in which she was born, but I'm not feeling terribly formal this morning, and have only had one cup of coffee), here's a gratuitous Baby Fest of Miss Emily!

General "Happy Baby" shot:


Big Snuggles from Granny:


Hanging out with Great Uncle Sandy:


Just love those cheeks:


So Happy:


Ready to ride:


And now the boys have found me and are doing laps around the computer, being dinosaurs. The fact that the computer is in a corner doesn't seem to be registering with them, so it seems break time is over.

Kiss those babies!
~Dy

I checked the post office today...

Well, we had a lot of junk mail, many offers to refinance and get a home equity loan, a couple of utility bills, a few boxes (Jess, nothing in there was wet, even the bag itself was bone dry - I have no idea what they were talking about - weird).

But no certified letter.

So, I called Wonderful Realtor to ask her, "Is no news good news at this point?" I had no idea if they'd send an all-clear, or just let if fade into the abyss. She said she didn't think they'd bother with an all-clear notification, and with the deadline this far gone (it was the 19th of May) and no certified letter in our hot little hands by now, well...

THE FOREVER HOME IS OURS!!!!!!!!!

It's really, really ours! Yay! Yippee!! JOY OH JOY!

*~*~* happy dance *~*~*

*giggle*

Ahhhh....

Alrighty, then. I can drop that stiff upper lip and slump back on the couch now, eh? A friend summed it up well when she said she sure hoped we didn't have to drink that half-full glass. Yeah. Me, too. :-)

Now we can get down to business!

Kiss those babies!
~Dy

House Stuff

OK, I'm mildly wired. One more post, and then I'll go to bed. :-)

Today (drum roll, please) Zorak removed the behemoth wood burning stove from the living room. Can you hear the angels singing? Well, they are. And it's beautiful. I gutted the bookshelves in the kitchen and we put those shelves in the living room - then we brought up another bookshelf from the basement to do kitchen duty 'til we get the Swiss Army Cabinet, and from there, we were able to make it a Real Living Room. You know, like Pinocchio became a Real Boy, only this wasn't such a pain in the butt. It gave the living space a much less, mmm, industrial feel, which is nice. What was really interesting was the added space. There is an unpainted spot on the floor where the stove stood -- the bookshelves and TV all fit behind that spot, between that spot and the wall, so we now have an extraordinary amount of extra living room space. And a bare spot on the floor. We're still putting in an addition, but in the meantime*, this is much better.

For a while, we had a great redneck skylight where the stove pipe had gone through the roof, but I couldn't convince Zorak to just slap a little plexiglass on it and leave it like that. He thought that would be too weird, even for us. Maybe he was right. (But just maybe.)

The kitchen now looks like it's been raided by the mafia in search of drugs or evidence for blackmail. It's going to take a while to get everything stuffed into that one lone bookshelf. But Zorak did hang my spice rack, so now I can dig out my jars, wash them, refill them, and then -- tada! -- we'll have, well, we'll have spices hanging from the wall. (That sounded much more exciting in my head...)

Lesson plans for the week are done, more books have been brought up from the basement, and things are looking pretty good. Good stuff.

The boys stayed up late tonight. I was all set to play the heavy with them for the way they were bunched up at the ends of their beds when they pointed out that they were watching fireflies. Ohhh, pretty! So I climbed up on the dresser with them and we watched the fireflies dancing on the lawn. It was like Nature's mini-firework show! How glad am I that I didn't go in with both barrels blazing and miss out on an opportunity to sit with them in the dark and enjoy the magic of summer? Very, very glad.

Anyhow, have a splendid week, and as always,
Kiss those babies!
~Dy

* "meantime" - indicates a short-term plan, but generally means a prolonged period of intended activity, followed by an extended planning period, to be finished with an indefinite "review" period. So, if it's going to be for the meantime, might as well get comfy, right?

Say what?

OK, I don't think I will ever let James have the road atlas again. Ever. As we headed out of New Mexico, he tracked our progress from his spot way, way in the back of the Suburban. (It felt farther back than it really is because of the whining dog, the exhaust leak, and the toddler's maniacal laughter every time he poked the baby's head.) Needless to say, trans-suburban communication isn't the easiest thing in the world. So, the conversation went like this:

James: What's the next city we're coming to?
Zorak: Lubbock
James: *pause while he flips pages* It's not on the map.
Zorak: Yes, it is.
James: Nope. I looked on the map, in the index, and on the mileage chart. It's not in there.
Zorak: Yes, it is.
James: The only "L-u" names in here are "Lufkin" and "LuBOCK"
Zorak and I snicker lightly.
Zorak: That's it. It's "Lubbock".
James: "Luvink"?
Zorak: LUBBOCK
James: LUVOCK?
Zorak: (shooting me a dirty look because I'm giggling and not helping much) No, it's Lubbock, L-u-b-b-o-c-k.
James: *pause* I don't see it.

At this point, I am laughing so hard, I'm crying. I'm utterly useless. I tried to help, but I couldn't - I just made choking noises. Then Zorak's eyebrows begin moving about on his head and I figured I'd try one more time to help...

Me: Honey, the town that's spelled "L-u-b-b-o-c-k" is the one Daddy's talking about. Just put the accent on the first syllable.
James: LOObock?
Zorak: No, it's LUH-buk
James: OH! They just spelled it wrong in the atlas, then.

Now I'm curled up on the floorboard, trying so very hard to remember that this child totally gets this from me and not only am I wholly apologetic to Zorak for this genetic input, I'm also completely aware that the kid is really trying to figure out what we're talking about, and is sincere in his supposition that the atlas has made a typo. Obviously, something is not getting through the exhaust and road noise.

Me: Honey, it's the first sound of the phonogram uh, oo. (Hard to type the sounds, but I'm sure you follow me.)
James: LUH-buk?
Me: Yes, exactly.
James: *now totally exasperated with us* Well, that's what I thought to begin with!

A while later, we passed a sign that ready "Floydada". I read it aloud with the short "a" sound. Zorak shot me a sideways glance, whispered, "it's 'Floydada' - long a, but don't bring this up with James."

Maybe we need to invest in a good walkie-talkie set for our next road trip?

Kiss those babies!
~Dy

Trip Pics and Stuff

OK, I have more photos, but Blogger Photo Upload Utility is ignoring me now, so this is it for tonight.

The children, the dog and I only made it as far west as Las Cruces. While Zorak had to go and toil, the rest of us basked in the New Mexico sun...








picked cactus to make fresh nopalitos (well, Zorak was back with us for that)...


enjoyed visiting family...


(and ate green chile until our nostrils gave up and fell off... It was heavenly!)

Balto got thoroughly spoiled at Aunt B's...


So did Miss Emily (well, she got spoiled everywhere we stopped, but this was the last photo Blogger would let me upload in one post.)



I know the mere thought of traveling with two children, a toddler, a baby, and a puppy might make some people recoil and gag, but we had a blast. They're all great travelers, and we had a lot of fun. Everybody was so great about the noise and chaos we brought with us. The trip was long enough that we were able to enjoy seeing everyone and didn't have to do the fifteen-minute visit/pit stop/run routine. We had such a great time - not the most eloquent post, but true. I'll blog the more, erm, interesting aspects of the trip tomorrow, when I'm feeling a bit more awake, er... refreshed. Yeah, refreshed. However, that's where we've been and what we've been up to - what about you? I've missed making the rounds and will be catching up, slowly but surely, over the week (but let me know if I missed anything really exciting, okay?)

Kiss those babies!
~Dy

OK...

Not actually fasting from the internet. Well, not intentionally, anyway, but I really do need to get a laptop! We've been on the road for 15 days. We've put nearly three thousand miles on the Suburban, and have visited just about everybody we have blood relations to, down to third cousins. We had a fantastic time, but it's quite difficult to blog like you're still at home when you're actually sun-baked and exhausted from having a wonderful time with family. And the only time I could actually blog was the first week of vacation, while we were in Cruces - the rest of the time I couldn't get to a computer, or couldn't get to one that would let me sign into Blogger.

I know, normally I blog from the road. Truthfully, that is a whole lot more fun! This time, though, Zorak and I were a wee bit jittery about letting the world know we were gone. With the deadline fast approaching (which, by the way, yes, we know the timing on this trip could NOT have been worse), and so much work still to be done, nobody to keep an eye on the place, and the length of our trip, we thought it best to keep a bit mum. However, we've just pulled into the yard, to the delighted sound of Smidge gasping deeply and then yelling "HOME!" Oh, even if the trip itself hadn't been such fun, we'd do it over again just for that reaction. All looks well. The post office closes at three thirty, so we won't know for sure until Monday (argh) if there's a Certified Letter O' Doom awaiting us, but I'll let y'all know.

Balto is about to prove to us whether it's possible to give oneself seizures and/or vertigo by running in circles for extended periods of time.

Zorak is removing all the intruder deterrent we put in place (and in case BATF is poking around, wondering about this, no, we didn't "booby trap" the place - just made it difficult to break into without being painfully obvious about it.)

The boys are running about in a glorious state of ecstasy over being home. Or over not being in the car. Hard to tell.

And Miss Emily? She doesn't really care where we are or how happy everyone is to be here. She just wanted to eat, which happens to be how I can get away with blogging five minutes after landing. :-) However, she's done and is now trying to be social. I'd better go. I'll blog more and post pictures tonight.

Boy, does it feel good to be HOME! :-)

Kiss those babies!
~Dy

Ahhh, relief!

I second Andie's sentiment: God bless the Hyland's folks!! Some of the family got a kick out of it over the weekend, so the running joke is "What's a little belladonna among friends?" I am so glad we're not wire tapped, you know? Anyway, I don't know if the little blue chemical-filled teething ring will survive the gnawing she's giving it, but thanks to the Hyland's folks, we will. OH yeah, life is good.

All is well on this end. Balto dog is going to make a very good dog one day. He's been introduced to several other critters over the past week or so - ranging from pups his size to small older dogs, a couple of chihuahuas and a newly mobile kitten - and he's done quite well. We honestly didn't know how he would do, and there's always that little bit of nervous energy (ok, gut-wrenching anxiety) over whether you've got the dog that simply feels no other animals should be allowed to live in his presence. But no, he's quite sociable, it seems. Yay, Balto Dog! (Still tick-free, too! Yay, Dr. English!!)

So much has been going on here, yet when I sit down to write I can't always think how to put it together - some has to wait a bit (family stuff), some just isn't that interesting (I dyed my hair red), and some of it would sound pretty odd (as in, she's drinking, isn't she?) if I shared it before I shared the rest of it.

So, brief highlights:

Humidity - my hair actually likes it, and evidently so does my skin. Still not thrilled about needing an anti-wrinkle cream with non-comedogenic zit preventer, but what can I do about that, other than complain?

Small Legos - the Marquis de Sade's own personal Montessori School. It's the next phase in parental torture through child play!

Hand-me-downs from someone who actually likes to shop - WOW, that is so much fun!

UPS - I love UPS. *heart* (I don't know how to make the symbol appear in blogger.)

Grass - if you're from the Southwest, guess what - grass can (and will) grow on its own down here! Even if you don't water it! Even if you let the kids play on it! And from where we stand, that is downright terrifying.

"Two half" is the cutest, sweetest little way of saying, "Why, yes, I'm two and a half years old, thank you." Maybe it's the smile that follows, or the little shrug of his shoulders. Whatever it is, it makes me feign total ignorance of how old he is, just to hear him say it again.

And we've gotta get a pool! *whew*

Kiss those babies!
~Dy

Chuckles

Don't you love the things that make you chuckle? Gretchen's comment yesterday got me thinking about that (by the way, Gretchen - can you email me? I can't find your addy. Thanks!)

There are so many things that make me chuckle ~ Smidge's vocabulary, John's uncoordination, James' insistence that time travel is possible if only we could... *insert new theory here*

They make my head spin sometimes, all three of them, but they also make me smile, make me feel warm and fuzzy, make me stop and enjoy this beautiful garden I'm tending. I think I smile more now than I ever did before I became a parent. What a great change to make in one's life!

Miss Emily seems to be teething. Or she has developed a hard-core Prima Dona attitude toward life, the universe and everything. Not to mention her particular frustration toward her servants erm, family. But we think it's just teething. And I think I'd rather it be a 'tude - a bad attitude, we can correct, but teething we're just going to have to weather. *WHINE* She's not any happier about the process, though, either, and just now (after four in the afternoon) she passed out for her first real nap of the day. I called Zorak and, thankfully, he will pick up some Hyland's on the way home. Nothing like a good narcotic to make things all better (said in my best sing-song voice).

Zorak's cousin's daughter (did I loose ya?) headed out to the Great Northwest this week. She's off on a great adventure, and already has several job interviews awaiting her there. This is exciting, as we've watched her grow and mature over the years. But then it got a bit weird when Zorak and I realized she is now the age I was when he and I met. YIKES! How'd THAT happen? NO NO NOOOO! *sigh* But they don't listen... :-) Ah, well, she is doing so well and is off to a great start. (But just for the record, I'm not aging at the same rate she is... okay? Just so we're all clear.)

Well, I know this is short, but Smidge and Miss Emily are sleeping, John is outside playing, and James has been waiting patiently for a few days for just such an opportunity to play a little Snakes and Ladders with Mom. In this case, I'm Mom, and so that means I'd better get off here and go pick my color before I end up at the end of the line! Have a great afternoon, and enjoy those babies - in every way you can, and all the chuckles they bring.

Kiss those babies!
~Dy

Blogging Fast!

As in "refraining from", rather than "doing so quickly". Yeah, the ambiguity of the title hit me four paragraphs later. This is my brain - this is my brain on wine. No, I'm not drunk, but I did entertain the idea of writing the entire entry in "buzz lisp", just for fun. Does punch drunk count? So, eesh, talk about just falling off the face of the earth. Suffice it to say, when there's no blogging getting done, there is plenty of actual *work* getting done. Boring as that translates to type, it is pretty good stuff.

John has matching bruises on his forehead now. I'm not sure how he got the full set, but it could have happened at any point in the last few days. I could tell even he saw the pattern when he came to me and said in an exasperated voice, "Mom, I hit my head AGAIN!" Sure do hope his skull is nice and thick, as it doesn't seem like he's going to be easing up on it anytime soon.

Update on the Frontline tick medicine... *angels sing the Hallelujah Chorus* WOW oh, wow, Balto has been tick-free for nearly a week! Six blissful days of rolling in the grass, wrestling with the boys, and still being allowed back inside at the end of the day. I think the humans aren't the only ones who are thrilled with this stuff.

The boys went swimming today and -- OKAY, so who has my real children? Huh? Seriously, these are good imitations, but not mine -- they both swam under water, crawled on the bottom (granted, the shallow water, but still - voluntarily submerged themselves and stayed there). Didn't plug their noses. You can try, but there's always going to be some giveaway that'll tip us off to the changelings left in our midst. Seriously, though, it was an occasion for high-fives all-around. I think this may be a banner year for John, too, if he will quit accepting visits from the Bad Idea Fairy. (That's a whole other blog entry unto itself, by the way. He has taken the whole "I'm Six" thing to an HNL, folks - God help us.)

So, in-all, things are going well. We haven't heard anything yet from the people, but they have ten days to contact us after their people's last day and so on and so forth and then you do the hokey pokey and you turn yourself about... um, something like that. Whatever. I'm good with the whole "no news is a cliche, but one I'm willing to run with". Yay!!

This sweet baby girl is needing to be moved (she feels like she weighs a ton, although we buy potatoes and onions in larger weights - what's up with that?)

Kiss those babies!
~Dy

Quick Note:

We found a pediatrician! He rocks. We are THRILLED. Not only is he totally competent and well-versed, he is willing to let the parents take the lead, views it as a team thing, and he's open 7 days a week! AND he's on our insurance.

Can I just say I think I'm in love???

That's it. That was all it took today to totally make our day.

Miss Emily has just about doubled her birth weight - she's now at 12 pounds, 12 ounces. She's growing just fine and things look wonderful. Happy little girl. So bright-eyed and sweet, but I am very thankful she is healthy and strong.

I'm off to kiss my babies!!

Dy

Well, when you do things like that...

*sigh* John has completely overcome his fear of the bike. Yes, he has. And he has on his forehead a goose egg the size of a silver dollar to prove it. One would expect he received this noble badge from riding down the hill...

through the meadow grass (that now comes to the windows on the Suburban)...

smack into the back side of the barn (yes, in-to, lovely, eh?)

But, no. Astonishingly, he walked away from that one unscathed. It seems the actual injury came in the form of a Very Stupid Dog who thinks if he stops directly in front of the bike, the bike will be intimidated and stop, as well. Evidently not. The dog was not harmed (nor did he learn his lesson) and God bless John, he got right. back. on. Personally, I'd have milked that baby for a couple of otter pops and a movie on the couch. But he was all about getting back out there and trying again. He's going to make a fine man one day.

Tonight was the last night of Pioneer Club. They break over the summer, and while the boys are somewhat disheartened by the break, I'm absolutely thrilled. That's 90 miles round trip (plus an additional 50, if you add in the wrong turn I took tonight - we were nearly to the TN border before I realized what, precisely, was wrong). Yes, I am thankful for the break. The Suburban will be, too, I'm sure. Perhaps we can make Wednesdays our Special Outing days - field trips, school at the river, things that can be done within, say, 12 miles of the house.

Smidge went to his class and when it was over, he was the first one out. He came bolting down the hallway, all smiles and enthusiasm. Change is hardly ever fun, but familiarity just downright breeds joy, pure joy, in a two year old. He is so proud of all he's done, and couldn't wait to show me everything in his little bag - his sash, his cup o' crayons, his Jonah book. I think there were some edibles in there at one point. Either that, or his teacher gave him a bag with crumbs in it, but I'm betting he just got to the goodies before he found me.

We're making huge headway on the Forever Home. I didn't realize just how much progress we'd actually made until I cleaned the place this evening. Wow, that's... embarrassing. But still, in the light of day tomorrow it will feel invigorating and motivating! (Remind me of this tomorrow night when I'm dragging --- again, okay?)

The Frontline seems to be working. Baltoid hasn't had any ticks for the last twelve hours! WOW! (Just think how wonderful it will be when we get the meadow bush hogged again!)

And on the Wonderful News front: Zorak has received a promotion at work. Yay! Same job description, but different pay band. He was so sweet, and so humble about it. I, however, am thoroughly proud of him. He's such a hard worker. He's honest and loyal to his company, and he always does his best to represent them well. After some of the antics he's been subjected to in the past (prior to going back to school), it feels very good to see him working in a place that values his efforts and lets him know as much. It does my heart good, and doesn't hurt his any, either. :-)

Tomorrow's a busy, busy day, and I'm up way too late (yet again - it's an illness, I tell ya!) Have a fantastic Thursday, and as always,

Kiss those babies!
~Dy

Poems and Adventures

I have two phrases stuck in my mind tonight. One is "plod, plod, plod" and the other is "tiddly-pom". Both have me smiling like a goof. Milne always makes me think of the children, and the Wonder that is childhood - and that, naturally makes me smile. I've no idea where the plodding comes from, unless it's just my inner self making up a poem to match the cadence of my mind lately. Thankfully, though, I seem to be the only one plodding along. While I'm sitting back, basking in the thrill of getting two whole windows finished today, everyone else in the house is just whizzing about, doing new things and making wonderful headway.

James has devoured several books that have found their way upstairs. He's having a blast. He's moving into tougher material and actually enjoying the challenge, too. Tonight, Zorak suggested he start a list of the words he comes across that he doesn't know - write them down and then look them up in the morning. My little list-maker jumped on the idea. What a great plan! Um, except that the dictionary wasn't one of the books we've found so far... Guess I'll be spending time in the basement tomorrow morning.

John came to me this afternoon, suited up in helmet and pads, and said, in this great James Lovell voice, "Alright, Mom. I need your help." It was late last summer, about a week before we closed on the house, that John ditched the training wheels on his bike. For all his knightly bravery and adventuresome spirit, riding that bike just struck fear in his wee, armor-clad heart. So, he managed to do it -- then we left the sidewalks of the apartment for the wagon-riding hills of the Forever Home... and he hasn't been on his bike since. By the time we had the opportunity to ride with him again, he'd lost his handle on it and instead was, himself, firmly in the iron grip of Fear. (Fear of what? No clue, couldn't articulate it - just your general, all-purpose Fear.) I don't know what prompted him today, but he'd steeled himself for it and was ready to go. Of course, he nailed it in just a few minutes, and the only "help" I needed to offer was just being there as an encouraging presence. But overcoming Fear usually has nothing to do with our actual abilities. It was pretty amazing to watch the transformation. He went from being completely gripped by Fear, with dogged determination to Enthusiasm, Confidence and finally, Total Enjoyment. Yay, Little One!! He informed me before bed that tomorrow he'll ride *before* breakfast. Love that stuff.

Smidge talked to his Granny tonight. He asked to call her, so I thought we'd give it a shot. She doesn't speak Elvish, but it's the thought that counts, right? Well, whaddya know, they had a pretty good conversation and when I got on the phone with her, she asked who that was. When I told her it was Smidge, she just squealed with delight! "OH! I thought it was one of the older boys! I could understand everything he said!" Way to go, Smidge!!

I had a front row seat to some pretty amazing stuff today. New adventures, new accomplishments, and I got to witness them. There isn't a paying job in the world that could compete with the pay and benefits of this one! I love it.

Kiss those babies!
~Dy

Well, that worked out well...

I planned to get a lovely picture of all the children by the pond at church. I wanted one I could post here, for Granny (Zorak's Mom), along with a Happy Mother's Day wish from her loving grandchildren...

When we left the house (on time, no less), everyone looked so nice. John wore a yellow shirt with his suit, James went a bit more casual with Dockers and a button-up shirt - still nice, very springy. Smidge patiently submitted to the perpetually adorable clothing that's easy to find in size 3T and under, and Miss Emily donned an exquisite little gown sent by one of our Invisible Friends.

We got to church after a pleasant Sunday morning drive. It was lovely: nobody fought, nobody cried. Bliss. Then, as my children piled out of the Suburban, Circus Clown Style, I realized something had gone horribly amiss.

John's shirt was no longer yellow, but pink and yellow, James' hair stood completely on end, Smidge's face was covered in some... foreign, chocolatey looking substance (please let it be chocolate, I prayed), and Miss Emily had evidently been mauled by a large, drooling varmint which left her gown completely saturated in spittle.

I thought we'd all traveled in the same car...

Ah, well, that's okay.

Zorak's gift to me today was that he came to church with us. And as an added bonus, he didn't fall asleep. Granted, sitting in the front row can do wonders for your ability to stay awake. Not only can the pastor see, specifically, if you're praying or faking it, but without another row of seats in front of us, it takes some creative effort to keep the Free Range Toddler from scaling the podium or dissipating into a disco frenzy during the hymns. Never a dull moment in the House O' The Lord, I'll tell ya!

The boys have been anxiously counting down the days until Mother's Day. They wrote something on a piece of paper, then sealed it inside an empty Kleenex box. That box has been the answer to most of my inquiries into the unusual behavior the boys have exhibited lately. And that box contained "my gift". Occasionally (usually when I'm nursing the baby and too intoxicated with oxytocin to get up and investigate) I've heard squeals of laughter and the sound of running water from somewhere in the house. When I've asked what was up, I'd hear simply, "It's in your box." So, not only out of sheer morbid curiosity, but also a sincere desire to know whether we needed to upgrade our homeowner's insurance, I was quite anxious to open "the box" today.

Their gift to me was to let me in on a little secret. They've been plunging the toilet... just for fun.

Maybe I should have opted for breakfast in bed...

Tonight, while the boys pretended to ready themselves for bed (I know better - even inebriated, it doesn't make that much noise to get your jammies on), Zorak worked on more window trim and I cleaned the guest room to make way for BOOKS! (This was a little treat for myself.) I brought up eleven boxes of books, and let me tell you, it was like Christmas. When you're six. And you have been good ALL YEAR! Wow. I was never that good, so this was a new experience for me. But still, thoroughly enjoyable.

I think the only thing that topped my joy at unearthing all the delightful titles one at a time was hearing James' giggling gasp of happiness - and the ongoing rush of enthusiasm (think the lady on The Price is Right who hyperventilates when she wins the grand prize that she actually wanted) as he perused the newly stocked shelf for bedtime reading. He said, "This is like the library, only with too many choices!"

We read, and laughed, and giggled. I cleaned and sorted and laughed some more. It's quiet now, another day gone. Another day enjoyed. What more could I wish for? Besides many more like this one. Perhaps without the color-changing shirts, though.

And Granny, if you're reading this, WE LOVE YOU! HAPPY MOTHER'S DAY! Thank you for raising the man that is such a wonderful husband and father. Thank you for sharing him with me. And I will get you a picture of all the children, hopefully all looking the same general direction, soon. I promise.

Kiss those babies,
~Dy

My First Mother's Day

Eight Der-de-der, SEVEN years ago (Thank you, Shannon!), we took my Mom out for a Mother's Day breakfast. We ate at the Iron Horse in Chino Valley, AZ. Also affectionately known at "The Metal Mule" - no, it's not the champage brunch at the Hilton, but they do manage to find the all-out best cooks in the area! James was um, (yes, I'm pausing to count. yes, on my fingers. hush.) eight months old. He fell asleep just before the food arrived, and Zorak held him. I ate my meal with a napkin in my lap and used both hands. I even finished it while it was still hot. That breakfast is still on my top ten list of great meals. It was a wonderful Mother's Day.

Tomorrow, around oh, perhaps noon, there will be thousands of men trekking their way out to the dog house. And there will be an approximately equal number of women in some state of unpleasantness, glaring at the backside of their little pound puppies. Now, I'm going to wax philosophical for a sec, but please don't tune me out. Just bear with me and I think you'll see where I'm going with this.

I can't speak for the women who do expect flowers, breakfast in bed, jewelry, and other shows of appreciation. I'm not one of them - flowers are nice, but I don't take care of them and they end up dropping nasty bits all over my counter and the water is always grey and fuzzy and quite smelly by the time I give up and dump them out. That's just gross.

I don't want food in my bed. Have you ever tried eating anything with four children galumpfing about on a bed? It's not pretty, and there isn't enough Shout! in the world to get that much bacon grease out of a mattress pad. Just give me a cup of coffee out on the back deck and five minutes for my pupils to dilate properly and we'll call it good, okay?

Jewelry, I love. I do. But I like the stuff I can wear all the time because if it's just for special occasions, I'll get desperate and want to wear them while I'm washing the Sunday clothes and really, who am I fooling? And if it's good, but I wear it all the time, I'm going to lose it. I just will. And then I'll feel bad and end up trying to pawn a spare child for a replacement diamond and, well, that just looks bad in court. So, for practicality purposes, jewelry is out.

This is just me. But there are women who do expect X, Y and/or Z to be delivered. And they're heartbroken and wrathful when it is not delivered. I think the best advice I can think of includes some words of wisdom I read on a homeschooling message board, combined with a philosophy I try to bear in mind daily, anyway.

(1) Be proactive. Don't hedge around and hope that the mortal you married has gleaned supernatural powers at his last management seminar. If you must, set money aside in the budget, give the kids a list and an envelope of cash, and send them to the store with hubby and very. clear. instructions. No, he didn't learn last year, and if you're going on year ten and it's still not in his nature to remember these things, please don't expect this year to be different. In his defense, this only comes once a year. In that time, a lot has happened: teeth have been lost, gas prices have fluxuated wildly, there have been birthdays, Christmas, Easter, mortgage payments... heck, we women can grow -- and birth -- an entire human in less time than the span between Mother's Days!

(2) This is really about motherhood, right? Well, we're fortunate to be the ones in charge of mothering, which involves training. I like to use the phrase, "My daughters-in-law will thank me for this." It reflects the training I try to do daily, whether it be teaching the boys to put their shoes away, hang up towels, clear their spots, hold the door for ladies, or not pass gas on purpose at the dinner table. Being thoughtful and willing to show appreciation is one of the things I try to instill in them. Now, whether they marry women who like to be Queen For A Day, or women who'd rather have a general all-purpose appreciative tone year-round is up to them. But I will have done my part. Yay me! (I'm still formulating the bits for, "My future son-in-law will thank me for this." But Miss Emily is young, and I'm still in the psychotically blissful grace period with her.)

Fortunately for Zorak, who took six years to remember the year of my birth, and another two to get the day of the month right, I don't want much more than a hug, a kiss, and a "Happy Mother's Day" from the boys and Zorak. I get celebrated daily in this house, and it's really nice.

Ah, ah, ahhh. Come back. I'm not saying that the odor emanating from the fridge is a celebration of motherhood. To be perfectly truthful, my fridge had funky odors before I had children. I just had a much better chance of finding the source of the odor back then.

Yes, a card is nice. Sure, doing something of my choosing is nice. But I am loved and needed and appreciated every time I sit on the couch and my lap, shoulders, and head are suddenly bombarded by small ones clamboring for a spot on Mom. (It used to be for a spot on my lap, but now any appendage with a landing surface seems to do.) No, *I* don't always appreciate those moments, but then, that's my issue, not theirs. *They* are showing that they appreciate me.

Every time the children come to ME to show me what they've found, or drawn, or read, they are celebrating motherhood with me.

Every time they ask me what I think, or "what if", or just ramble on to be in touch with me in some way, they're savoring me, The Mama.

Every time I get a hug-for-no-reason, there really is a reason: because I'm Mom. It's like drawing dividends year round on an investment.

Every "please" and every "thank you" I don't have to pull from their distracted little minds - whew, love that!

Every time Zorak has to leave town, and he knows that his children are in good hands, he's celebrating motherhood. My motherhood.

The fact that I'm the Mom, and that I am appreciated, is a given. That's kind of nice. And it beats only getting the special treatment once a year. It beats wrangling the Joneses for Best Mother's Day Gift. It beats giving money to Hallmark.

But there is nothing - no diamond big enough, no weekend quiet enough, no spa-certificate-I'll-never-use-before-it-expires elaborate enough, to beat eating a meal with a napkin on my lap, using both hands, and maybe even enjoying a cup of coffee on the back deck afterword. And just maybe, if I'm lucky, nobody will intentionally pass gass while I'm eating.

Kiss those babies!
~Dy

House Whispering

We tried to ignore it. Individually, we each treated it like a mild hallucination. Hallucinations, we can handle. But, no. The house has been telling us both the same thing, and tonight we had to admit it. I suppose this is what happens when you've bought FrankenHouse. Or when you stay up way too late drinking. Coffee. Either way, it has spoken and we have heard, and we're now looking at... *deep breath* an addition.

It'll be okay. We'll take it slowly. We'll do the work ourselves. (Der.) And... ok, what? Were we just too close to being done? Things lookin' a little too lax here at the Forever Home? What is with this house? Well, alright, FINE. We'll give it the addition. But I can tell you right here and now that I don't care how much it begs, we're not, I repeat NOT, adding a second floor or an inground pool! (Which, actually, that's easy enough to say because it doesn't want either. But, I digress.)

We do both feel better now that that's out in the open. We can move forward and scrap a few things we've been trying to force. Anyhow, if the scanner will work, I'll try to upload the drawings and give y'all a peek at what's in the works. And this time, I'm doing pictures as we go (because they won't be nearly as terrifying as the renovation pictures were). This will also require that I get on it and update y'all with "after" photos of the rest of the house. You know, so it doesn't look like we're adding on to... that.

In other news:
* Balto goes in Monday for a thorough vet check, and we will hopefully bring him home tick-free. Joy! Elation!

* We may have found a pediatrician for Smidge and Miss Emily. The receptionist registered a 6 on the Richter Scale upon learning that Miss Emily hasn't seen "ANYone???" (said just like that, with a high-pitched catch in her voice), but she didn't seem phased when I mentioned that I'd "like to discuss vaccination plans with the doctor". (Perhaps there is a benefit to shocking them with the homebirth first and then slipping vaccines in during the aftermath?) Anyhow, I got his name off a billboard, and he's the only pediatrician out of the 20+ I've contacted who is accepting new patients. This could go any of a number of ways.

* You know, I thoroughly enjoy my children. 99% of the time the boys are beautifully behaved in public. Then there's that 1%. That's inevitably the one that gets me. This is a universal parenting point, too, as I've heard similar stories from other parents. Your kids are just great, and they're so good for such extended periods of time that when they do go off the deep end (and God help you when they do it en masse), it catches you off guard. You're immobilized in your shock. Do you sedate them on the spot? Start screaming at them in Spanish? Pretend they aren't yours? I still don't know what the correct answer is, but the *calm, pleasant, please-don't-call-child-protective-services* tone was pretty ineffectual today. So the next time you're out in public and you see a irate white woman screaming Spanish slang at her herd of clueless anglo children, say hi, will ya? I'd love to hear from you.

* Busy weekend coming up, so blogging may be light. (Or it may be heavy - that depends on just how hard I work to get out of the projects at hand.)

Kiss those babies, and remember that no matter how big they may seem now, they will never again be as little as they are today.

~Dy

Not feeling quite so guilty now...

You know, I really felt a bit guilty when I forked over the cash that would allow us to exit the building without a getaway car yesterday. We had so much fun picking out books that... well, it adds up, you know. However, today I received absolution! The workbooks and other great titles were a HUGE hit today. I feel like inserting some Latin blessing right about... here. We interspersed the workbooks with our regularly scheduled day: laundry, Calvin Ball, picnics (spent a lot of time outside today, guarding the wash from the stoopid dog), learning and reading.

I did have to force James outside to play ball with us. He'd come out for a bit, then slip inside, ostensibly to use the bathroom, and I'd come in twenty minutes later (ostensibly for more coffee, but who am I kidding? I needed a break!) to find him hunched over the book, giggling maniacally as he wrote out equivalent fractions for each of the problems. No, nothing he was working on asked for equivalent fractions. He just thought that would be fun. On the upside, it looks like I won't have to teach him how to handle mixed fractions. He said, "Hey, Mom, check this out! If you just divide the fraction, you can get a mixed number! And you can switch it back by multiplying it." Hey, that's pretty cool... where did it show you that? "Oh," he says, "It didn't, but that's how it works, see?"

OK, that's just plain wrong.

John saw that I'd grabbed a copy book for him that involves more writing than he's been doing. I was hesitant, as reading and writing haven't come as easily to him as they did to James. Pfft. I am a dork! He was thrilled. I mean absolutely thrilled. (What is WRONG with these children?) Anyhow, I had a pile of worked planned for him already today, so he had to hold off on that until tomorrow, but he's chomping at the bit. He laid out the book, sharpened his pencil and placed it in the pencil cup just before bed tonight. He did get to wallow in a mazes book, though, and that was a lot of fun. Or it sounded like it, anyway.

Now, Smidge's reaction, I get. At least more than I get the other two. He got a tracing book. OK, yeah, that's fun. Of course, in another life, I used to enjoy sprawling out on the floor with a PB&J sandwich, a box of crayons, a coloring book... and a beer. So I can vouch that he comes by this honestly. I did purchase presentation books at Wally World the other day, so the maze book is going to be dismantled and inserted into the page protectors. He's two - he won't realize right away that he's done the same ten mazes every day for two weeks. And if/when he does finally catch on, well, I've got a whole book I can rotate out! He is currently my most cost-effective child.

I'm not getting excited until I have a receipt in my hot little hands, but I've heard rumors of a s-t-a-c-k-a-b-l-e that may be adopted by a loving family sometime soon. (*shhhhh* Don't jinx it by actually saying anything, okay? Thanks.)

Oh, and the cobbler? YUM! I couldn't even tell it was wheat-free! YAY! Still can't get Zorak to try any, but that's okay. This is so good I'd take it to a potluck and not feel compelled to tell anyone it's wheat-free. And that's saying something.

Well, I just might make it to bed before three if I stop talking right now and finish this cup of coffee. It's worth a try.

Kiss those babies!
~Dy

Sometimes You've Just Gotta Do It

Get dressed.

Load everyone into the car.

And LEAVE THE HOUSE.

I've been slacking lately, which isn't anything particularly new. But I haven't really cared that I've been slacking, either. That's new. And if I'd cared to give it any thought beyond, "Huh, that's strange." I may have recognized it a little sooner and headed it off at the pass. But I didn't care to, and so I wallowed in it a bit before really deciding to tackle it.

Jess affirmed today my suspicion that a little St. John's Wart and a day trip around town might do wonders. I love having friends who only laugh at me mildly when I do something truly goofy like this. :-)

So we hit BAM, leaving poor Zorak out of it, and had a delightful time. The boys stocked up on a little science, some history, a book of maps, and some fiction. I snagged a few things for Smidge, and some workbooks just for fun. Yes, my child actually did a happy dance when he saw the title, "Decimals, Fractions & Percents" in the basket. I don't get it, but I'm not about to question it, either. I did manage to walk straight out of there without the ONE book I really wanted to pick up: Andrew Lang's The Blue Fairy Book. Guess that means we'll have to go back, right? But the boys had fun, Miss Emily talked to everyone who would make eye contact, and I mentally rolled around in the grassy knowledge that my love of books has been inherited by my children. Happy Mommy!

Tonight we dined at home (forecast called for severe storms until midnight, and I just wasn't up for traversing the bridge in the dark in a storm - call me a weenie, that's fine, but we stayed home). ANYWAY, we enjoyed homemade hot wings, fried potatoes, steamed broccoli and sweet tea. (See? We're beginning to blend!) I made a peach cobbler for dessert. The boys really went to town on it. Zorak was too stuffed right after supper, and I was busy getting Miss Emily down, so we haven't tried it. But it does look lovely, so perhaps I'll go give it a taste test in a bit and see how it is.

And to answer the million dollar question: no, I'm not forty. Yet. (Who knew that would be the thing folks caught? *wink*) But it's coming. I suppose I was fortunate enough to turn around early on and realize that it's just flying by. When forty does come, it won't be a shock. Even if it does have a small "brace yourself" factor, it still won't be nearly the shock that some other things have been. And it hasn't been about me in a long, long time. I picked forty intentionally, for two reasons, mostly. One, I know that most young mothers (early 20's?) don't realize how quickly the next twenty years are going to pass - you do turn around and *poof*, the years have gone. But mostly, because in my mind, as opposed to turning 30, it carries with it a sense of being centered; taking the time to pause, reflect, recollect, and then get back with the program. I often think we, as women in our society, don't develop the sense to do that properly before forty. So it was a nod to wisdom and grace, and I raise my coffee cup in a toast: may we all turn around and be forty!

Kiss those babies!
~Dy

And then you turn forty.

That's it. That's how it happens. One minute, you own matching jeans/boots in a full array of colors and then everything you own comes in two color choices: primary, and spitup. Eventually you graduate into crayon and dry erase, but you have to work for those options. They don't just hand 'em out to anyone, you know.

One day, it's all about highlighting the eyes - draw attention to your best features and really make 'em "pop". And then, a few years down the road, you realize your best feature is only two feet tall and randomly sticks his hand down strangers' shirts. Yes, the eyes are gettin' a bit crinkly around the edges, and so you play off the lecherous-but-cute angle with exuberance (because as long as they're looking at the kid, you appear normal -- you know, from a distance...)

For a while, it's all about you - what you want, who you are, where you're going. Then comes this humongous detour. It's so big, you have no idea how you didn't see it coming (and most of us don't), but the road's not paved. There are no maps! Everybody is barreling down the path full steam ahead, tanked up on caffeine and completely sleep deprived. And you panic. Because weren't we told to expect that the path to the future had been... paved, at least? The job, the career, the husband, the children, the tan, the perfect gravity-free breasts, and the maid?

What do you do when you're bumping down this detour of Parenthood and you suddenly find that your goals, your dreams, your aims, your values - in general, your entire job description for Parenthood is diametrically opposed to what you'd envisioned down that paved, four-lane highway? Instinctively, you want to reconcile the two. Soon, before you run out of gas out there in the boonies.

So you put out the SOS, and people reply. But their input varies widely. Some encourage you to follow what you know in your heart to be right for your family. Some people insist that if you aren't feeling martyred, you're just not working hard enough. Some may even encourage you to ditch that whole "instinct" hoopla and just turn around, drag the kids back onto the highway and keep going as if nothing's changed. The status quo awaits and they'll keep the light on for ya. And yet others nod slowly and back away, muttering something about stocking up on condoms. Whose advice do you take?

Well, I'm not even going to pretend that I am unbiased when it comes to this point. Obviously, I have a skewed perspective on things. We're bumping along the dirt path with kids and a dog hanging out every open window, still sleep-deprived and overly-caffeinated. Nobody will admit to being in charge of navigation, but we both do a head count before we head out and again when we arrive. (We don't care where we are, as long as everybody makes it.) But we've met others along the way and have a pretty great caravan of fellow travelers. We stop at all the Historic Markers, let the kids pee on the side of the road, take pictures, eat whatever we find in the cushions and glovebox of the Suburban, hop back in and head off to the next adventure. Is this what we envisioned? Um, no. It's harder. And it's better. And it's far richer than any measly plans we concocted all those years ago. And when I'm feeling small. Or inadequate. Or even just a little selfish, I turn to the One Person who really has all the facts and all the insight into why we do what we do: Zorak. More than anybody else on the face of this planet, he is the best one for reminding me that it's all good. That we're okay, and that this is GREAT. And I am his best resource, too. Because it's OUR family. Just like your family is YOURS. And THEIR families are THEIRS. And when you're afraid you're going to turn around and find that suddenly you're twice the age you were the last time you checked, the best person for a pre-flight check is your partner and fellow traveler. The rest of us may have the best of intentions, but we may not always be on the same wavelength.

We believe that in the end, the detour is short. It is, undeniably, life-changing. But it's short. One day we will be handed back our days, to do with as we please. We will be given all the time in every year hence to travel, conquer the world, write novels, run for obscure offices in small counties. Whatever. And I can say with certainty that we won't look back and say, "Wow, I sure wish we'd have gotten more sleep that week that John was so sick," or "Boy howdy, homeschooling the kids worked out so well, but why didn't we just put them in daycare?" And it's safe to say that at least some of those days we get to ourselves in the next season will be spent calling "the kids" to see what they're up to, to take the grandbabies to the park, to invite everyone to come for supper (you know, that one meal of the day I can never figure out what to do with now? Yep, the same one.) I don't want there to be any irony at that point.

But the beginning is hard. Sometimes you feel like you got the junker car and it must be push-started every. single. time. Sometimes you feel like you meant to go North and you think you're going North, but the compass keeps saying Southeast. Sometimes you feel like there are so many bumps and detours-upon-detours that you'd get there (wherever that may be) faster if you got out and walked. But you know, you'll never gain momentum if someone is always getting out to walk. It's the continuous, focused, team effort to Life and Parenthood that gets the junker going in the right direction. And once you've got momentum, a map, a plan, and the ability to enjoy the scenery, you'll find that it's a great trip! It's most likely not the one you laid out in your heart of hearts way back when, but it's great. And like I said before, it's short.

So, bare bones survival list for the whole Parental Detour thing:
___Someone to watch your back, cover your butt, and love you through it. (And vice versa.)
___A vision, and the flexibility to blend it with n other visions (n being the number of folks involved in your journey.)
___Sense of humor.
___Graciousness to handle the truly embarrassing things and come away without making anyone, including yourself, feel bad. (The boob-happy two year old mentioned above is nothing compared to other delightful surprises that await you!)
___Snacks.

We are still SO new to this journey - only eight years into it. We have a lot more to learn, and probably a lot of things to add to our survival kit. We do get wonderful suggestions, tips, and BTDT insight from others, but we have also come to turn immediately to one another when there's a question of which way to go, or a concern that we might run out of gas before we hit the next stop. We've learned that there are those who will always be honest, and those who will always push their agendas. There are those who will blow smoke, and those who will be lovingly open. We've learned to trust that, too, and one another.

So, just a word or so of encouragement to those who find themselves on the detour and wonder if it really will be worth taking. It will be, just stick together.

Kiss those babies!
~Dy

My, how you've grown~

Oh, Miss Emily, you've gotten so big!

Kiss those babies!
~Dy

Progress?

Gah!

Well, I thought I'd get quite creative and try refilling our ink cartridges. In the past four hours, I have not accomplished my goal, but I have learned much. Here's what I've learned:

Epson is a vile company that makes lousy products.

Crafty people have found ways to handle that.

These people, while having my absolute awe, scare me.

I actually own one of those "resetters" - and had no idea. LOL.

I don't have the dexterity to be a surgeon.

...or to refill cartridges.

These things bleed like stuck pigs when you don't do it right.

I don't care how much I could save, theoretically, because I'd spend that much in cleaning materials to get the ink out of my clothes, my sink, my hands, my teeth (don't ask).

And, it's now two-thirty and I don't have the boys' pages ready for tomorrow yet.

We need more workbooks.

We are going to BAM tomorrow to buy some workbooks to tide us over until The Purchase Of The New Printer happens.

I think, on my List of Priorities, a new printer actually falls before a stackable washer/dryer set. If it didn't before, it certainly does now. Blech.

Kiss those babies!
Dy

Sunday Ramblings

Nine thirty doesn't seem too early for Sunday School, even with having to leave by eight thirty to get there in time, except that all the parking lots of all the Baptist churches between here and there are empty as we drive past them (their Sunday Schools begin at ten thirty or eleven), and we cannot help but think as we drive past that if we went to one of those churches, we'd still be in bed right now. Tempting, that is, after the shotgun starts we incur each Sunday morning. However, we made it. Yay.

We had a birthday party to attend after church, so we hit Books-A-Million to pick up gifts. BAM is, for the boys and I, the equivalent of Disneyland for other folks. We just love to go. And browse. And buy. For Zorak, it's pretty much icing on the gotta-get-out-of-bed-and-suck-it-up Sunday morning torture session that we like to call, "Going to church as a family". He was so chipper and glad to be there. Poor guy. So we grabbed a few nice books and headed out rather quickly, with the promise that we'd plan another trip to Disne- er, the bookstore another time. When Daddy is at work. :-)

The birthday girl turned four today. I'm not good with the food analogy descriptions of children (like "just sop 'em up with a biscuit" - I love them, but they don't flow from my mind with ease), so I'll just say this little girl has a full complement of precious. Actually, all of the children in that family are simply adorable. And our families get along well. Even the husbands enjoy each others' company! (MAJOR bonus!) They also drive almost an hour to church because they, too, live in the middle-of-nowhere. Sadly, they live in the North-West Middle-of-Nowhere, vs. our South-East Middle-of-Nowhere, so playdates aren't a regular occurrence. But the kids are in the same classes for Sunday School and Pioneer Club, and so they do get to enjoy playing together a bit, but today was extra nice. BBQ, playing in the yard, laughing at the kids' quirks and silliness. It was also fun to see one of our pastors in his Granddad mode, away from the church. So sweet!

We came home to find the clothes from the line strewn about the lawn (I cannot get the line high enough to keep out of Balto's reach and yet still within my own), so we gathered those up, checked the weather forecast, and rounded up the do-overs.

Zorak had thrown in a brisket this morning - so the house welcomed us in with the mouthwatering aroma of supper, ready to go.

Zorak ran a mock-up of the trim on the window in the kitchen, with a new stoop and everything! It's going to be so pretty!

The boys tidied their room and then I vacuumed before storytime.

Everyone was asleep within minutes.

And I am going to follow...

I love lazy, wonderful days like today. I'm thankful they aren't all like this, as absolutely nothing resembling progress was accomplished. But it was a day of rest. A day with the family. A day with much to give thanks for, and to appreciate. Tomorrow, back to work, but today we rested and prepared.

Kiss those babies!
~Dy