Cake:
Presents:
Monday, June 29, 2009
Happy Birthday David!
Long time, no blog, eh? And unfortunately there's not really time tonight either. But I couldn't let the day pass without saying, "Happy Birthday!" to my baby..... He turned 4.
Cake:
Presents:
Cake:
Presents:
Thursday, June 18, 2009
This and That
My four oldest kids along with the two neighbors have formed a club. They have many great plans for this club. It is working well for me since they have been asking for odd jobs to earn money with which to buy things for the club. I am encouraging it in every way I know how (the working for money part). When they finally went to the store to purchase supplies, they needed to buy a snack (what club doesn't need a snack?). Do you want to know what they bought? Peaches and animal crackers. PEACHES AND ANIMAL CRACKERS! Of all the wonderful, kid-tempting treats out there (c'mon... Little Debbies, mini donuts, Cheetos), they picked peaches and animal crackers. By way of contrast, when I was little and my friend and I found ourselves with a little extra money and in need of a snack, we bought a bag of Doritos and a tub of prepared chocolate frosting. Yummy... or not. Really, I'm very proud of them for making wise choices, I'm just still in a bit of shock.
The garden is still coming along. I've been meaning to update, but the last update I had is now outdated. A few pictures from that update:
Lettuce and spinach and peas:
Those cold weather plants are now pulled up. In our garden now we have tomatos, bell pepper, jalapeno pepper, squash, cucumber, watermelon, and canteloupe.
And here is my favorite part... an herb garden right outside the door:
basil, parsley, cilantro (that empty space in the middle... we should have planted more... we've eaten it down to nothing and now have to wait for it to grow back), oregano, and thyme
So, we've been wanting a few blueberry bushes also. John bought 3. He brought them home and planted them. Taryn says, "Hey, we have this bush right down here that's growing berries. What kind of berries do you think they are?" Yup, they're blueberries. There are a bunch of them. I guess the last few years have been so dry they have just never produced or at least never matured. At least that's how I'm reassuring myself that I'm not crazy. John says God is laughing at us.
I am exceedingly blessed to have 6 really unique kids... at least that's what I tell myself. It would be boring if they were all like me, right? But really, God could have put a few more detailed directions there in the Bible for me. On Sunday before church I hear some crying coming from the bathroom. I go to check it out and find Tina. What is she crying about? Her fingernails. SHE'S 7!!!
She made a mistake while painting her nails. Rebekah had used all the remover up and now she was not going to be able to go to church. The normal me? "Get over it Tina. They're just fingernails and you are only 7! Get out of the bathroom, quit crying, we're going to church." I didn't do that. I reacted with compassion, I helped her clean up her nails, painted them for her and then stuck on some little sticker gems that I had found (and again by way of contrast, the time I spent doing this for her was time I should have been getting ready, so I went to church unshowered and just haphazardly threw on a dress and sandals... and I was NOT bothered by it. Man, I need that "fancy" gene... where did it come from?). I hoped that I was showing her that I love her and I care about her and that what matters to her matters to me. But did I also teach her that your fingernails have to be beautiful to go to church? If there is one thing that girl doesn't need, it's reinforcement of the world's opinion on beauty. This parenting stuff is HARD. And where's the verse that tells what to do when your kid won't come out of the coat closet, hmm?
We have a cat. She's a normal cat. That's a nice way of saying she likes to kill small rodents and leave them for us on the driveway... minus the ears. Apparently mouse ears are a cat delicacy. So, with that in mind, what would your reaction be if you saw this while walking down your hallway?
It's quite startling I assure you.
It is actually part of a tail that Taryn found and thinks is a wonderful treasure (?).
Hope everyone is having a wonderful summer. We are having tons of fun, but it's wearing me out. I thought summer would be more relaxing. I guess those unrealistic expectations of parenthood never really go away.
~~~~~~
The garden is still coming along. I've been meaning to update, but the last update I had is now outdated. A few pictures from that update:
Lettuce and spinach and peas:
Those cold weather plants are now pulled up. In our garden now we have tomatos, bell pepper, jalapeno pepper, squash, cucumber, watermelon, and canteloupe.
And here is my favorite part... an herb garden right outside the door:
basil, parsley, cilantro (that empty space in the middle... we should have planted more... we've eaten it down to nothing and now have to wait for it to grow back), oregano, and thyme
So, we've been wanting a few blueberry bushes also. John bought 3. He brought them home and planted them. Taryn says, "Hey, we have this bush right down here that's growing berries. What kind of berries do you think they are?" Yup, they're blueberries. There are a bunch of them. I guess the last few years have been so dry they have just never produced or at least never matured. At least that's how I'm reassuring myself that I'm not crazy. John says God is laughing at us.
~~~~~~
I am exceedingly blessed to have 6 really unique kids... at least that's what I tell myself. It would be boring if they were all like me, right? But really, God could have put a few more detailed directions there in the Bible for me. On Sunday before church I hear some crying coming from the bathroom. I go to check it out and find Tina. What is she crying about? Her fingernails. SHE'S 7!!!
She made a mistake while painting her nails. Rebekah had used all the remover up and now she was not going to be able to go to church. The normal me? "Get over it Tina. They're just fingernails and you are only 7! Get out of the bathroom, quit crying, we're going to church." I didn't do that. I reacted with compassion, I helped her clean up her nails, painted them for her and then stuck on some little sticker gems that I had found (and again by way of contrast, the time I spent doing this for her was time I should have been getting ready, so I went to church unshowered and just haphazardly threw on a dress and sandals... and I was NOT bothered by it. Man, I need that "fancy" gene... where did it come from?). I hoped that I was showing her that I love her and I care about her and that what matters to her matters to me. But did I also teach her that your fingernails have to be beautiful to go to church? If there is one thing that girl doesn't need, it's reinforcement of the world's opinion on beauty. This parenting stuff is HARD. And where's the verse that tells what to do when your kid won't come out of the coat closet, hmm?~~~~~~
We have a cat. She's a normal cat. That's a nice way of saying she likes to kill small rodents and leave them for us on the driveway... minus the ears. Apparently mouse ears are a cat delicacy. So, with that in mind, what would your reaction be if you saw this while walking down your hallway?
It's quite startling I assure you.
It is actually part of a tail that Taryn found and thinks is a wonderful treasure (?).
~~~~~~
Hope everyone is having a wonderful summer. We are having tons of fun, but it's wearing me out. I thought summer would be more relaxing. I guess those unrealistic expectations of parenthood never really go away.
Wednesday, June 10, 2009
Monday, June 8, 2009
Summer Reading
Today was the first day of summer "story time" at our library. We enjoy these summer programs so much (of course, we also enjoy the story times during the school year which are more traditional story times). In the summer they have magicians and musicians and a science program. Today's show was Mountain Marionettes. This is a really fun program. It's also a chance to see lots of familiar faces amongst the audience and is a reminder of why I like living in a small town.
We signed up for the summer reading program today as well. They give the T-shirts out when you sign up rather than having the kids earn them by reading (withholding comment), so the kids immediately put them on once we got home from the library and got about to the business of reading.
We signed up for the summer reading program today as well. They give the T-shirts out when you sign up rather than having the kids earn them by reading (withholding comment), so the kids immediately put them on once we got home from the library and got about to the business of reading.
Please ignore Joseph's reading choice. He had already read the ONE book (I'm having issues with lost, late, and missing library books) he was allowed to check out and apparently that was the closest reading material at hand.
Wednesday, June 3, 2009
Sundays on the Hill
One year ago my Grandpa died. My cousin, Megan, wrote this ode a couple months later:
Sundays on the Hill
This Sunday on the hill will be different.
Different from all of my memories of Sundays passed.
All Sundays on the hill began with the church bells ringing, calling the faithful in their ironed slacks and floral patterned dresses to come together, come together and sit on the old, hard wooden pews and stand up to sing the hymns in the best harmony we knew how.
All Sundays on the hill we returned after church to the small house that Grandpa and Grandma called home, the house we all referred to as home at one time or another. After trading in our tan slacks and button-down blouses for gym shorts and time worn t-shirts, we'd settle down into a card game or a crossword or a puzzle or some coffee talk.
All Sundays on the hill, bare feet pushed off the concrete patio to start the rhythmic movement of the porch swing whose chain links produced a melody that told of generations of use. The creaking of that porch swing and the raucous noise of the latest game of Frisbee with the dog provided the day's familiar soundtrack. Although many in the family had been away, separated only by distance, conversation wove between us and connected us like the tight stitching in an old patchwork quilt.
All Sundays on the hill clouds of rich smoke wafted through the air as the chicken--Grandpa's barbecue chicken specialty--sizzled and charred over the fiery hot coals. Later, we ate chicken on the overcrowded patio at the overcrowded picnic table. We ate the chicken until our bellies were fat and happy and ready to call it a day. A perfect day.
All Sundays on the hill were different from this Sunday. This Sunday when my Grandpa is gone.
No Sunday on the hill will ever be the same.
This Sunday on the hill will be different.
Different from all of my memories of Sundays passed.
All Sundays on the hill began with the church bells ringing, calling the faithful in their ironed slacks and floral patterned dresses to come together, come together and sit on the old, hard wooden pews and stand up to sing the hymns in the best harmony we knew how.
All Sundays on the hill we returned after church to the small house that Grandpa and Grandma called home, the house we all referred to as home at one time or another. After trading in our tan slacks and button-down blouses for gym shorts and time worn t-shirts, we'd settle down into a card game or a crossword or a puzzle or some coffee talk.
All Sundays on the hill, bare feet pushed off the concrete patio to start the rhythmic movement of the porch swing whose chain links produced a melody that told of generations of use. The creaking of that porch swing and the raucous noise of the latest game of Frisbee with the dog provided the day's familiar soundtrack. Although many in the family had been away, separated only by distance, conversation wove between us and connected us like the tight stitching in an old patchwork quilt.
All Sundays on the hill clouds of rich smoke wafted through the air as the chicken--Grandpa's barbecue chicken specialty--sizzled and charred over the fiery hot coals. Later, we ate chicken on the overcrowded patio at the overcrowded picnic table. We ate the chicken until our bellies were fat and happy and ready to call it a day. A perfect day.
All Sundays on the hill were different from this Sunday. This Sunday when my Grandpa is gone.
No Sunday on the hill will ever be the same.
Monday, June 1, 2009
It's my birthday
Due to previous engagements, a family party was not possible for my birthday today. But my sweet kids wanted to make my birthday special. So this is what they did for me. That's homemade ice cream in the bowl with a fresh blackberry on top. They used milk and sugar and ice and ziploc bags to make it without me even knowing. They also made a bracelet for me which they tied around the bowl.
Can't forget a party hat:
It did make me feel special. I love all those guys.
Can't forget a party hat:
It did make me feel special. I love all those guys.
Saturday, May 23, 2009
I got the girls' summer clothes out several weeks ago, but had not yet gotten the boys' clothes out or my own. The boys had been given some summer clothes and they all had a couple T-shirts left out. I had 2 short-sleeved shirts and 2 T-shirts which I wore over and over. As long as I kept up with the laundry (as in, did it daily) everybody had clothes to wear and there was no urgent need to tackle that most hated of jobs. But since we are leaving for the beach tomorrow, I knew I could put it off no longer. (A recently heard quote which I have applied my entire life much to my constant vexation: "If it weren't for the last minute, nothing would ever get done.")
Anyway, I always use the opportunity of the changing of the seasons to pare down the clothing which has inexplicably multiplied in the last season. I am going to show you the embarrassing results.
These were all David's. Christmas sweaters. Sure, they're just red and he can wear them all winter, but they were meant to be for Christmas. And there were 2 other sweaters which weren't red that I didn't include in the picture. I suppose I should mention that around here sweaters are only worn for church on Sundays.
Turtlenecks. These are also all David's. And here I'm afraid I need to add that none of my kids like to wear turtlenecks and never do without some amount of coaxing. And yes 2 are the exact same color red.
I might reasonable argue that David is the last of 3 boys and so has been handed down many of these items and they have accumulated in that way...........
I now present evidence from John's closet:
In my defense, I never bought a single one of the items pictured. But I am still guilty, since at some point I deemed them worthy of putting in the closet/drawer. And of course these are just items which are so similar it's comical. I haven't included pictures of the stacks of shirts, the numerous pairs of church pants, the excessive pairs of shoes. Why do we have so much more than we need? Why do I/we feel the need for more?! (I sure would love to buy rain boots for all the kids. Joseph would like some more sweat shorts. Rebekah told me this morning she needed more shorts.)
Heavenly Father, please let me speak these words with a sincere heart.
Anyway, I always use the opportunity of the changing of the seasons to pare down the clothing which has inexplicably multiplied in the last season. I am going to show you the embarrassing results.
These were all David's. Christmas sweaters. Sure, they're just red and he can wear them all winter, but they were meant to be for Christmas. And there were 2 other sweaters which weren't red that I didn't include in the picture. I suppose I should mention that around here sweaters are only worn for church on Sundays.
Turtlenecks. These are also all David's. And here I'm afraid I need to add that none of my kids like to wear turtlenecks and never do without some amount of coaxing. And yes 2 are the exact same color red.
I might reasonable argue that David is the last of 3 boys and so has been handed down many of these items and they have accumulated in that way...........
I now present evidence from John's closet:
In my defense, I never bought a single one of the items pictured. But I am still guilty, since at some point I deemed them worthy of putting in the closet/drawer. And of course these are just items which are so similar it's comical. I haven't included pictures of the stacks of shirts, the numerous pairs of church pants, the excessive pairs of shoes. Why do we have so much more than we need? Why do I/we feel the need for more?! (I sure would love to buy rain boots for all the kids. Joseph would like some more sweat shorts. Rebekah told me this morning she needed more shorts.)
Why is everyone hungry for more? "More, more," they say. "More, more." I have God's more-than-enough, More joy in one ordinary day than they get in all their shopping sprees. At day's end I'm ready for sound sleep, For you, God, have put my life back together. Psalm 4:6-8 (The Message)
Heavenly Father, please let me speak these words with a sincere heart.
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