Eeeny---Meeny----Mighty----Cold

I think we've bought what would qualify as a Mini Mart drugstore. We are a prime example of how panic can set in when everyone in the entire family comes down with a rotten cold. All I wanted was one box. One box of Tylenol's Concentrated Cold Drops for Infants. But the little drops evaded us wherever we looked.

I'm not sure what these drug companies are thinking sometimes. When you are sick, and all of your little ones are hacking up green goo you can barely see straight. However, you find yourself blindly trying to pick the wonder drug of the year, while you read through a small font all of the symptoms on the box that the medicine claims to aid. With chagrin, I picked Dimetapp's Cold & Cough medicine for children, hoping I could sneak the larger liquid amount in Faith's pears or something. The medicine had a laundry list of relief for Nasal Congestion, Runny Nose, Itchy, Watery Eyes, Coughing, and Sneezing. In my stupor, I just assumed a fever would be covered too. Silly me.

Trip 1: My purchased loot.

Ken takes the next shift and goes back to the store, looking for those prized infant drops. He comes back with loads more drugs. But no drops.

Trip 2: Ken's purchased loot.
Three miserable nights, 2 empty Kleenex boxes, and more kiddie throw up later, Ken goes BACK to another store looking for the holy grail of infant cold drops. I swear these drugs can only be found on the black market. You literally need an ID to buy these bad boys.

JACKPOT and Alleluia!!! He finds the drops. In a store I have looked twice in before (when my mommy instinct kicked in and I thought I should be prepared for a week like this). In typical father style, he buys two boxes. And then he buys two boxes of other stuff. And then three more boxes of stuff for good measure. God love him.

Trip 3: Ken's purchased loot w/ the Holy Grail.
This will never, NEVER, happen again. Why? Because next time, we'll be ready. REALLY ready. You think?

So It's Not ALL Ugly

I love my birthday camera! For years, I have been trying to take pictures of my gardens that birthed beautiful flowers every year. Instead, I always ended up with a blurry mess. My old digital just couldn't hack the close ups, and many times I was entirely frustrated with the unobtainable.

I've found inspiration zooming in on God's creation. My new Panasonic (and the words of my daughter) have prompted me to tackle the gardens again and get my hands dirty this fall. Ken spotted me with a stack of gardening books and design plans and voiced an "Oh, Oh."

Oh yes. My resolve to stay in this house will be nursed by raiding local plant nurseries -- I"ll admit it. But who can say no to these beautiful blessings?

Freedom

One week. It happened in one week. On Wednesday, Faith became an accomplished sitter. Thursday, she grabbed my shirt and pulled herself up to a stand. She practices incessantly, leaning on her boppy with her booty up in the air, and her legs poker straight.

Today, practice proved perfect and she graduated from the boppy to a stool. Look at the joy in my baby girl's face! My child has been trapped in her own skin for almost eight months...unable to motor unless someone picked her up or wrapped her for rides around the house. We have endured her pain as a family. But now, she is the happiest little tyke in town.


Now that she is mobile, we are witnessing that she is as fearless as she is mobile. She's a warrior queen who chases down loud vacuum cleaners without flinching and beats them mercilessly with her fist. My own little Roomba is no more. Today, she's just raised the stakes. My Roomba has morphed into a Dyson.

God Help Me Parent My Son

Something is happening to my son, and I need the power of the resurrection to get us both through this. Where is my old son???? I want him back! I'll give you a two hour glimpse into our interactions lately:

Today, involved battling our upstairs toilet as my boy had decided to use an ENTIRE roll of toilet paper on his backside. Of course, he chose NOT to mention this to Mommy, which means it swelled and grew to mammoth proportions until later in the afternoon when Grace freaked out at the frothing brew in the toilet. It took 10 flushes to get it all down safely.

Less than an hour later, I take note of my son's face while he is desperately searching for something to wash down what appears to be a horrible taste in his mouth. When questioned about what he has just eaten, he says, "Um..I think I ate some white stuff." In a half panic, wondering what pills he's swallowed, I asked for further explanation and for him to show me what he swallowed. He then proceeded to retrieve my stick of deodorant in a powder fresh scent. My son, ate deodorant. Deodorant people.

Let me tell you, he didn't flinch the one time I washed his mouth out with soap, but I think he's on to something with deodorant. My son can testify that it sticks in the teeth hours later, dutifully doing its best to prevent your mouth from producing moisture, and giving your mouth a clean powder fresh scent.

Celebrating Thirty-Three

On Saturday, I turned a whopping 33 years old. I expected it to be no biggy, but I gradually began to realize that my kids were not going to settle for just another day. I'll be honest, kids make having a birthday exciting all over again.

It started the day prior when Grace and Jack realized my birthday was the following day. In minutes they were in a football huddle on the deck outside with a pencil in hand filling out a paper full of ideas and drawings detailing how they were going to surprise me on my birthday. The cutest part was that they were crouched under a bright green umbrella to keep things secretive. Later that afternoon, my daughter came in and announced that she had shouted out to our neighbor that she was invited to my birthday part tomorrow. (Not that I was having a birthday party.)

Disappointed and in complete disbelief that Mom was not having a party (what's wrong with her), I quickly tried to make ammends by suggesting that we could all bake birthday cupcakes today...and all was well again. We had a blast together.


I awoke on Saturday to my children at my bed side with a cardboard box in hand. They smelled like the early dawn, and had spent time combing the backyard in their PJs as they sought out gifts outside like gathering manna in the morning. Inside the box was a mushroom, a bright zinnia, crepe myrtle berries, and a zinnia bud. In Grace's words, the zinnia bud represented the new year before me. Isn't that sweet?


Ken gave me a morning off as he and the children hunted down gifts with price tags. But I OH SO LOVED them: a new laptop (mine officially died) and a brand spankin' new digital camera which I am completely stoked over...all the better to blog with.


My day got better and better by the hour. My lovely sister-in-law (above), who I will be blogging about later on a different post (oh yes...I'm blogging about you girl!), offered to give Ken and I our first night out sans children since pre-Faith era. Those were two delicious hours with my handsome husband. How I have missed date nights.

The evening was topped off with the first disc of the second season of LOST. Does a birthday get any better??? I'm really liking thirty-three. :)

Pitching A Fit

There are reasons for my absence as of late. My computer has a short in it, and has been on the fritz. But the real truth of it is, we've been house hunting. And after a strong effort, have come to the conclusion that we shouldn't be house hunting. House hunting makes you instantly embrace "BIGGER", "BETTER", and all of the coveting inbetween. You come home to a house that you suddenly loath, and it makes you a rotten grump for a week. Even worse, the Lord has clearly said that while we live in a house that is now completely paid off, that doesn't mean we should be looking for another one. I know He's right. In all honesty, I'm pitching an internal fit about the whole thing - mad at myself with just how greedy I can become overnight.

I love our yard, but I'm tired of the weeds. The flower beds in the yard have been neglected for over two years. I was once the "flower lady", while now I'm sure my name is cursed in hushed whispers. Grace even calls some of the beds our "ugly" garden.

There are doors in the house that have been slammed open over the years and now have holes in them. The master bath shower cannot be used until the source of a leak can be found. Pieces of tile are cracked and missing, while pebbles of loose grout from a tiling job not quite finished, find the soft tissues underfoot and jab you in the dark. Every faucet in the house has long since changed from gold to a tarnish that cannot be removed. We have two cars that can't manage to find their way in a cluttered garage. Faith's reflux has bleached every inch of our carpet in our bedroom. I could go on, and on.

My mind runs in circles. Are we outgrowing our 3 bedroom home with a finished basement and playroom? Perhaps two business and a family of three children and dog would be better suited for a larger home. Or do we just have too much stinkin' stuff? Part of me wants to start with a clean slate, and dump along the way. The other part of me loves this house and can imagine no other - the only house my children have ever known.

Like the moon, the mess will follow me wherever I go. It is part of living. It is part of having young children. It is part of homeschooling. No ground is sacred. And right now, I'm throwing a tantrum in the middle of it, while I clean out my kitchen from top to bottom, and pretend to move in again.

Surely I am being tested. Finding liquid concrete smeared all over the front door and porch this week (oh, yes...it happened), and blue food coloring tracked over the wood floors the following morning (yep, that happened too)..makes it very, VERY hard to not throw up my hands and say, "I'm moving, you kids stay here". (You can bet your buttered bread I'll be blogging on the consequences of those two days soon.)

This isn't about moving. I know. It is about obedience; obedience to the Will of God. Being happy in a house that isn't sparkling new. Being content in lives and not in the things that surround me. But you should have SEEN MY DOOR!!!

Still Out To Lunch But...

Here's a little didy from my inbox to hold you over...

Ed was in trouble.
He forgot his wedding anniversary.
His wife was really ticked.
She told him "Tomorrow morning, I expect to find a
gift in the driveway that goes from 0 to 200 in 6 seconds
AND IT BETTER BE THERE".

The next morning Ed got up early and left for work.
When his wife woke up, she looked out the window and sure enough
there was a small box gift-wrapped in the middle of the driveway.

Confused, the wife put on her robe and ran out to the driveway,
brought the box back in the house.

She opened it and found a brand new bathroom scale.

Funeral services for Ed have been scheduled for Friday next.