Need to talk to you

TC filled his little hand with Daddy's finger, pulled him down to his level, and said "I need to talk to you". Then began to spill over all the big thoughts that were in that little head of his.

Christmas story

Luke 2: 10-12...but the angel said to them, "Do not be aftraid; for behold, I bring you good news of great joy which will be for all the people; for today in the city of David there has been forn for you a Savior, who is Christ the Lord. This will be a sign for you: you will find a baby wrapped in cloths and lying in a manger."
John 1: 29..."Behold, the Lamb of God who takes away the sin of the world!"

Dirt work

The new fire pit was christened on Christmas eve with smores and Christmas carols. It was picture book perfect but the dirty work was done the afternoon before. Jason had to get the tractor out to dig the hole and move the rocks around the pit. Work was slow going going with all the little chickens scampering about but Jason is the king of accomodating.

All the while GiGi sat demurely in her bonnet...on an old junk bus seat. That lady could look prissy in the middle of a trash dump.

We don't really support those new fangled child labor laws. We believe in an honest days work for an honest days pay. "Get back to work or no supper for you little heathens!" Actually, I think they would have paid us a full years allowance for the chance to play in the dirt for a whole week.

Daddy's shadow

The Alexanders

We spent 3 wonderful days at the river with our great friends, Mike and Mandy. All 7 children slept in the bunkroom and played outside all day. No major events made for a perfect weekend.

Roles

As we are discussing the different roles that each child will play in the upcoming Christmas play...
Mom: Emma can be Mary, and Tatum can be Joseph. Tennison you can be the angel Gabriel who tells Mary that she is going to have a baby.
Tennison: No! I Dod! (God)

Oh Tannenbaum

How lovely are your branches...even though only the bottom half is decorated and all 40 ornaments are hung on 5 branches. I simply smile and choose to ignore the disregard for symmetry and form and wait for the little angels to go to bed and then rearrange the tree.

The legacy...

which GiGi will leave...

"Love is patient, kind, and not jealous. Love is not boastful, is not proud, is not rude, not self seeking. Love is not easily angered and keeps no record of wrong. Love does not delight in evil, but rejoices in the truth. Love hopes all things, bears all things, believes all things. Love never fails." 1 Corinthians 13:4-8
(Edith McAden Swift, age 83, with her 6 great-grandchildren)

Horror Movie

I know that Jason likes to tell the story of the time I thought I heard a rattle snake in the lake and climbed him like a cat, trying to get out of the water. He laughs everytime he tells that story, but seriously, THIS is why fresh water creeps me out! What in the world is this prehistoric creature! It swam like a snake, was hard like a centipede, had a tiny head, and was just hanging out in a little river pool waiting to invade someone's personal space. You wouldn't even be able to tell when this thing became an uninvited guest until you started complaining about strange pain and the x-ray showed that this thing had found a warm corner and had begun to breed itself into the hundreds. Ohhh! I just gave myself a chill... this is what we share with that murky "fresh" water (and I use that term loosely here). Mmm, can't wait for the summer when I put my sweet unsuspecting babies into the river again.

Kuk Sool

Luck, chance, good fortune, dumb stumbling...whatever, those words don't exist in my world. Others can say or think what they want but there are WAY too many "coincidences" that happen to Tatum's benefit for me not to give credit to SOMEONE. Sometimes I'm a little wary of how God feels about me, but I am completely, without a shadow of a doubt, 100% convinced that God is CRAZY about Tatum. We found this studio way out in the boonies, small classes, several instructors, and a very laid back atmosphere. The last place we visited was fast, fast, fast...one instructor in a class of 30 kids...only one 30 minute time slot available per week...one year agreement, so if it wasn't a good fit for T, too bad, we would be paying for that mistake for a while. This place... Tatum's a little quirky? No problem, there is another student just like him that has been coming for several years and loves it. Don't know if he'll like it? No problem, pay as you go. Don't know how quickly he will pick up on it? No problem, come 5 days a week if you want and the more advanced belts mentor the newer students so alot of the time Tatum will have one on one that way. Oh, and by the way, the instructor is a Christian. "Hello, this is God...I will be handling all your problems today."

Double take

I have to do a double take everytime I see my baby acting like a big kid...

This is why I love him...

The Saturday after the last football game, Jason decided, with a burst of energy, that we needed to have a campout...so out comes the tent...in the backyard...and complete with weenies and s'mores, we watched and listened to children squeeling, running around the backyard and in and out of the tent. Then we set out the sleeping bags, crawled into the tent, and made memories. This is one of the many reasons why I love this man. Nothing requires too much effort if it will make someone he loves smile.

Gross...

Either I've mellowed or this boy is so gross that I just pick my battles...or is that the same thing?

Finally...

After 4 years of being a "stay-at-home" mom, I'm finally getting to actually do it. This is what I mean. For the first 4 years I was a caregiver for not only my kids but someone else's too. That meant that there was never a lazy day when we stayed in our pajamas all day, meals were stictly planned for my children, I never volunteered at school, and by 5 o'clock everyday, I was spent. But this year I have the luxury of preschool, what a blessing! Now I work in the library at Tatum's school, run the scholastic program for Emma's school, drop in to eat lunch with Tatum, pick up lunch for the teachers, etc., etc., and pretty much love what I do, everyday. Because Tennison was in school on this day, Emma and I were able to hang out, just the 2 of us, on her fieldtrip to Mayfarm. And I loved everyminute of it. What a gift I have been given! And you know the best part? My husband has noticed the improvement in my attitude, which makes him more open to the idea of paying someone to keep my kids a few days a week instead of the other way around.

All the usual suspects

What was great about this year is that Halloween fell on a Saturday night. To the general population, this means nothing, but to coaching families everywhere this means that Daddies will be home to help with the tricks and treats and sugar highs. I felt like we had been somehow thrown back in time because for the first in 7 years we actually walked door-to-door.

Last year, Poppy took pity on us and came to the rescue to fill in for our Daddy, who was intent on winning a football game that night.

So here's the list of characters...
PIDAMAN!!...who else?
The fickle one...Cinderella...no a princess...a lion...a kittycat princess

My little creature of habit...

What is art?

I believe that you can't really be taught how to be an artist. Either it's in you or it's not. You don't even really have to be great to be considered an artist, you just have to be able to speak through your craft. That's not to say that you can't refine your craft but it has to have a homebase. I think that art classes in elementary school are funny. To expose children to the theories and style of art is great but that's not so important in the lower grades. You get graded according to how well you follow directions. So, can one be creative AND stick to a set of rules to complete an assignment? Depends on the kid probably. For example, so I was told, one such artist did not follow the directions of the assignment, wasn't really paying attention, and so his finished product looked nothing like what was expected....

and yet it was chosen to be spotlighted in the administration building for exemplary art. By now means was it the best of what was assigned, but to someone, it warrented a second glance, maybe it even whispered meaning to someone. Now THAT is true art.

Sabotage

...and this, ladies and gentlemen, is why playing games with the Tiny Taliban rarely goes well...someone always ends up crying...and it's usually not him.

It's all in how you look at it...

To the untrained eye, something very important might be missed. But look closely and you will notice the family members who are labeled. Emma brought this home from school and was so proud that she had drawn her "whole family". Really, everyone? Yup! Me, momma, daddy, and Tennison. But what about Tatum? Oh, he's at school. Soooo, if you dare to leave this house and attend another institution you run the risk of being excluded from the clan, according to Emma. Tatum did not agree with this in the least and actually noticed pretty quickly while it was hanging on the fridge. After adding Tatum back into the group, I asked her why she did this...well (very matter of factly) he came back! (Like, even a moron could figure that out)

New babysitter

I've been paying a babysitter to do what I should have left to the air compressor. Give this kid an air hose and he is good for hours.

I'm going in to take a nap, be back in an hour...

Still at it? Okay, I'm making a quick run to the store...you good? Be back in a few...

Okay, well, still busy huh? I've been meaning to run to the post office, can you hang here while I...

So if you have any problems, Emma's in charge...cool? If the neighbor's ask, just tell them I'm inside baking cookies.

Hopeful

This season has taken a toll on the group. It started out hopeful, giddy, nervous, twinged with anxious excitement...but as the weeks have worn on and the wins don't come, the grind has begun to wear at our resolve and patience. What was once elation at the new opportunity has turned into a load that has been very hard to carry. I know that my husband tries to take all of the weight on himself, but no man is an island, and those waves that have been eroding his shores are splashing onto the porch and into the living room. Of course we have all sunk into our predictable schedules and roles but you know, enough is enough. Let's be done with this. We want our daddy back and he wants to be back. For the most part, those around us have been positive, encouraging, and supportive but there is that occasional rock head who mumbles under his breath in the stands "they won't be here next year". And no, I didn't let that one slide without informing him who he was sitting next to. All in all we have stayed afloat, banded together, and learned important lessons. So...3 more games and two more Sundays. We are looking forward to next year...with hope. "And not only this, but we also exult in our tribulations, knowing that tribulation brings about perseverence; and perseverance, proven character; and proven character, hope; and hope does not disappoint, because the love of God has been poured out within our hearts..." Romans 5:3-5

Honeycomb

As we are walking together to drop Emma off, she folds her little hand into mine. A gesture that happens over and over throughout the day but this morning it was signigficant to me. I say..."Emma, thankyou for holding my hand. When you do it makes me feel special." Without missing a beat she responds, "Even when I'm not holding your hand you are still special." Oh be still my heart. If ever I wonder where the satisfaction in parenting is, I need not wander any farther than this moment. It is the little things that sustain me as a mom. I pray that I do not soon forget this. "Pleasant words are a honeycomb, sweet to the soul and healing to the bones." Psalm 16:24

We're breaking up...

I have been in this abusive relationship for too long. I thougt that my needs were being met but now that I have a little pespective and some distance I can see that all along it was toxic. So I have moved on. Maybe now, I can finally get some clarity and be the real me. Not the me that was always controlled. So chocolate, cookies, cheap candy...we must go our seperate ways. I don't want to see you anymore. NO, I mean it this time...Oh, don't worry, you will meet someone else, someone who is stronger than me. But me, I am a sucker for the sugar rush even though I know that it will lead to my ultimate crash and burn. I cannot spend time with you in healthy amounts and when we are not together I think of the next time we will meet. I'm an addict and so therefore must leave you, cold turkey, no turning back. Maybe after I have gone through my twelve steps and submitted my self to my "higher power", I can stand to be around you. So don't call, don't come around, it's just better this way, for everyone. And don't even think about showing up in your chocolate dipped coconut suit for Christmas because you know I can't say no...

I didn't forget...

Yes, Emma also had a "1st day of school" and yes it was as monumental as TC's but I am choosing to look back and call it perspective...

Of course, she knew exactly where to go and little mother hen even attempted to hold back traffic so that baby brother could cross safely (there really was no traffic, she is just playing it safe). Mrs. Spinx greeted us at the door and as soon as Emma walked into the classroom she quietly put her back pack away and went to sit in circle time. Before she sat down, she gave me a quick kiss and whispered "would you stay for just a minute". So a crept to the back of the room. But it only took a few seconds for her to be so engaged that she didn't even look back to check that I was sticking around, so out the door a slid. No tears, no tantrums, I just walked to the car. This is going to be good...very good indeed...for everyone involved!

The Wrap-up

Another Daddy specialty...the wrap-up...aka "whapup". It comes highly requested.

Mom's don't wrestle

...and this is why. It would be non-stop wrestle mania 24-7. These kids don't have an off button. If I was fair game I would live in constant booty flex mode. Standing at the kitchen sink washing dishes and all of a sudden...BAM...TC comes at me full fisted right in the ribs. I'm bending over to pick up miniature socks from under the bed...POW...Emma pile drives me to the ground. I'm sitting in the floor folding clothes...WOOF...Tate clobbers me with the couch pillow. Oh no, I'm no dummy. It's all or nothing and I choose to abstain. Besides someone always cries before it's all over and I would be too tempted to go straight to the crying part so that it could be over faster...sheesh...who needs it...I'll leave all the bloody noses and screaming kids to Daddy...he's like Kung Fu Panda...the kids just seem to bounce right off of him no matter how fast they run, how high they jump, or how hard they hit.

Suprise guest

We were thrilled when we learned that GG was coming with Granna to stay with us over the weekend. As the little ones and I were discussing the topic of old people (I don't know why or how we got there), we were comparing the old people we knew. Some were short, some were white headed, all had wrinkles, and some were bald. Well, GG is bald, I said. Emma's mouth gaped open and she gasped, "You mean like Pappy?!" She was scared to death when I told her that GG could take her hair off and under no circumstances did Emma want to touch it, much less look at it. When GG finally came, Emma stood at a distance, checking her out, making sure, I guess, that GG's hair wasn't going to jump off her head and suffocate Emma, like some bad horror movie. After a few minutes Emma finally warmed up but was clearly uncomfortable when GRANNA tried on the "piece". Neither she nor Tennison would touch it. She finally, tentatively, asked GG to please put her hair back on. Funny little creatures, they will pick up the hairiest bug in the yard and touch poop with their bare hands but GG's wig, now that's crossing the line!

Food Jail

Quote of the day from http://thoughtthinkers.wordpress.com/:

I know that I shouldn’t call it a diet, but lifestyle change is really just another way of saying I must have a funeral for all the foods that make “Eat, Drink and be Merry”… merry.

According to scripture“…nothing is better for a man under the sun, than to eat, and to drink, and be glad.” Ecclesiastes 8:15
But according to my BMI there is nothing better for me than to get myself to 24 Hour Fitness.

As I dive into the whole Food Jail thing I could use a little prayer; prayer for strength, prayer for self-control and prayer that I don’t maim the Food Police. After all, the opposite of fat and happy is… umm…skinny and rather grumpy.

Glimpse

This was such a strange moment that I had to capture it on camara...this is my life but I am not in it at the moment. Usually I am the one trying to finish mundane tasks with 3 little monkeys hanging on me, sticking fingers where they are not wanted, hauling toys in to surround me, wrestling and bumping me when it is least welcomed...but this day it is Granna, trying to paint the cabinet while stiff arming one and keeping the paint from spilling over due to the kiss fest going on behind her. And see the look on her face? That's the way I imagine I look all the time...except mine comes from frustration, irritation, confusion, befuddlement, and lack of sleep.

The scene is surreal...those are my kids...and that is my life...but it's not...weird

BTW...

I don't really know who reads my blog, I've tried to only give it out to people I am close to and trust but things get around so...when I write, I like to think that those who are reading it know me, because sometimes I get personal, you know, sometimes I vent or get kinda sappy or get all church lady. And believe it or not, sometimes I hesitate before pushing the "publish post...so that everyone can see the ugly" button. Sometimes I may come across as too over the top or too whiny, but it's just where I am at the moment. I wanted something that could chronicle my real life, not the life that I had been sticking into perfect scrapbooks with cute little store-bought die-cuts. That life really doesn't exist, and who cares about perfection anyway. That's boring. I never kept a diary because I always knew, inevitably, it would fall into the wrong hands, and my life would be over. I would have to live under a rock. And really, I do keep a "not by chance" journal, (that I share VERY infrequently) so that I can remember all the ways that my life has been steered by the One who loves me and gave Himself up for me. (See what I mean, there I go again with the over the top stuff) So, if in my ramblings, I say something that strikes you the wrong way, I don't really know who I'm talking to, so in the very least, I would rather not know about it, and at the very most, just don't read it. 'Cause it ain't easy being green..or translucent...or transparent...or whatever...you know what I mean...I hope.

Waiting...

http://www.chattingatthesky.com/2009/09/03/the-hiding/ I could have written this. I have, many times, in my heart. So it makes me wonder, reading it there on the screen, am I not the only one who was confused? All those kids growing up and now all the grown up kids, who seem to have it all but are really just fakes...like me. And then He found me, or I should say, I got quiet enough to hear him, and I finally knew what it meant to trust, to feel loved by someone who knew every thought and intention I have, and in His eyes, I'm beautiful, a Monet in progress. Unlike me, He doesn't shake His head at His child's failures and ask "When are you going to stop being so stubborn, and listen to me?" He just smirks and whispers to the Father, "she's one step closer to completion, isn't she wonderful?" He is patient, when I mess up, He is waiting with forgiveness...every...single...time. He takes an active role in my life and thrills me with tiny glimpses of His works in my life. Tatum is a book all by himself, and mine is still being written. So I guess it's okay that it took me almost 30 years to finally see Him, even though He's been there all along, waiting for me to put down the mask.

He is ready...

Big world, here we come! Armed with his backpack, lunch box, and napmat, TC set out on his new adventure. With barely a backwards glance in my direction he marched his little Spiderman shoes into school, found his classroom, and sat down to start coloring. When I kissed him goodbye, he gave a quick nod and was back to his activity. In kid years, this day has been 15 years coming. He was ready...so why the tears in Mommy's eyes...

TC is the most independent of the three, the biggest risk taker, most adventurous...he will probably grow up to be a pilot or an firefighter or a bull rider...he may move far far away and I will hear stories of his travels...this is the first step...and he is ready...but am I?

Plan B

TC has started to show an awareness of his own bodily functions lately. For example, every time he passes gas he laughs out loud and announces "I tooted!" If we wait too long after a bath to strap another diaper on him we will inevitably find him taking aim at whatever is closest. He stops what he is doing to pay special attention to his #2 business and then informs us that "I not have poopoo". Yeah right mister, tell it to the tourists...never mind, they can smell it too. According to the "experts", these are all signs of readiness for potty training. Okay, I guess I've been in denial for long enough, we probably need to get this show on the road. Undies? Check! A week of unscheduled days? Check! Potty seat? Check! Plenty of patience? Uh...yeah...I think so. Here we go...day one...sit on the potty first thing in the morning...score! Set the timer for 2 hours...first mistake. 20 minutes later...another pair of undies...reset the timer...second mistake. Flush out undies and hose them down in the yard. Put timer away...strap on first diaper...enjoy the rest of our day. You know what...life is too short...and this can wait...new plan...wait until he can change his own diaper.

30 toes

Fine. I admit it. I take too many bathtub pictures. What of it? I am a SUCKER for little naked booties. I have pictures of them all over my house. I am the bathtub paparazzi. These are going to show up in slide shows, scrapbooks, wedding videos, graduation announcements, yearbooks...they can thank me later, but they are gonna love it that I have documented all their bathtime fun. Okay, so I walk by (because it was noticably too quiet) and spy 30 little toes propped up, chillin' in the bathtub. We have the "lettin it all hang out with no regard to personal modesty" brother goose, the "perfectly manicured and all the ducks in row" mother hen, and the "trying my darndest to stretch those little piggies so that the toes and the head stay out of the water at the same time" baby Banty rooster. Three very different children, all on the same page.

Mr & Mrs Potato Head...

Mr. & Mrs. Knuckelhead is more like it, but MAN are they cute!!

Bus Rider

Last year he was bused from one school campus to another just for the sheer thrill of being a bus rider. No real purpose in it except that he wanted to do it. Of course being a big bad first grader he wanted to be a bus rider both afternoon AND morning but you know what...that 7am pick up and 45 minute bus ride is a bit much for my senses to take so we compromised. Tate is now being dropped off at the end of the block and he GETS to WALK home. Everyday when he gets off the bus he waves to his driver, "Miss Judy", bounds down the steps, and greets me with a huge smile. That kid is RARELY grumpy. And the bus is just a perfect end to a great day for him. He's pretty amazing. Like Jason always says, "He's the best kid we've got".