What If...

What if you went to a nationally franchised fast food restaurant with your kids after school?
What if you let your kids play before the food arrived?
What if you didn't let them play when they were done eating?
What if you hurried them into their shoes and then into the car?
What if you told a child who left her shoes on the floor to put them away?
What if that was the moment that you discovered that your child had worn someone else's shoes home?


Yeah. Grandma and Grandpa were still standing by the shoe bin after our 4 mile round trip, wondering where their granddaughter's shoes could have gotten off to.

We laughed.

Because, really, it was funny!

That Certain Twinkle

There's this impish look that Abigail gets when she's about to say something mildly naughty. Something she knows she won't get in trouble for. Something irreverent.
We like to let the kids pray for dinner if they ask. Some do all the time, some do some of the time, and some don't ask. Jonah is an always asker. He asked and we let him pray for dinner. Abigail is a sometimes asker. She asked when Jonah was done so we held hands and closed our eyes again while she prayed. Something sweet, and childish. Something that ended with, "In Jesus' name, Amen."
Then I looked up at her. And she had the look. And she asked me, "Mom, is Jesus' name really Amen?"
And I laughed. And there was apple juice in my mouth already.

Note To Self:

Next year, when making green milk for the Lucky Charms on St. Patrick's Day, only dye 1/2 gallon.

Definition: Post Neuclear Gross

I told my brother in law, David, that I could define "Post Neuclear Gross" best in pictures.  Well, here you have it.

And even though I did clean it up, there is a new mess.  And it looks strikingly similar....

The Days Of The Week- 4Year Old Style

Monday,

Twosday,

Threesday,

Foursday,

Friday.

Yup, plus a couple of extras.

I'm Beginning To Wonder

Why I am writing. For me? Cuz' I seem to be almost alone here folks (Sorry Lizzie, LeeAnn, and Newly-Commenting-BIL-David).

Come on people. Quit holding out. Pass me some lovin'.

Freaky-Smart Children Scare Me

Jonah's changing table was the top of his dresser. Since he was born there has been a plaque above his dresser with his name in wooden letters that are painted bright colors. After a diaper change I would hold him so he could touch the letters, or when he got bigger, he would stand on the dresser and touch them. As he would touch them I would guide his hand along them and tell him the name of each letter.

We haven't changed diapers in a long time.

This year he has been begging me for "work" since Jesse is always being told to focus on his work. I drug out the preschool books I have. I have used these with each of my kids to some degree. I really like them. There is another series that comes after these that is a little more complex- but I loaned them out and they didn't come back- so I guess I will have to buy them again.

Anyway the books that Jonah is working on are written by an old order Amish author. They are SO cute. They tell stories about obedient Amish children who hang their coats and shine their boots, help Mother with the dishes, and help Father with the animals on the farm. I love fiction.

You can get these here.

They have great activities in them. Like this:

(All the better if you color them with one of your sister's multicolor crayola maker crayons)

The bottom page cracked me up because even though I do own all of these items, some of mine take batteries or plug in. And I guess he's never seen me hand stitch before, because he couldn't tell me what a thimble is for.

Except Jonah is burning through them.

Fast.

And then, yesterday, he got out his Leapfrog magnetic alphabet toy. And found all the letters to spell his name. And put them on the fridge. In order.

So today I handed him a pencil and asked him if he could write his name.

Apparently, he can.

Tantrum? Really?

So, my 11 year old is feeling a little whiny today.

And he wants me to do his work.

And he keeps coming to me.

And snipping and mumbling when I don't give him the answer he wants.

Particularly about this one handout that called for drawings.

Which I admit- He sucks at drawing.

I was on the computer and he wanted it to do some school work.

When I asked him what he was working on he said, "I'm still working on the one I threw a fit over."

*SNORT!*

Did he just admit that he was throwing a fit?!

Here's the thing, though;

There are many times when I find myself being snippy and irrational.  I know when I'm doing it and I just can't stop.  Why is it all to easy to throw a fit?

He didn't get in trouble.

Giveaway- now get away!

My mom is having a giveaway for her 200th post.

You can go look- but don't enter.

In A Funk

Why?

It's cold outside- but at least it is sunny...

I have slept well lately.  I lay down and go to sleep and wake up in the morning...

I have been presented with an opportunity to do something I really like and I am considering the commitment...

On the other hand,

My biggest kid is sick.  With a cough.  That he can't shake.  And makes him throw up.  And I can't decide if I should take him in or not- I hate to go in and have them say, "It's just a virus.  It'll go away on it's own."  Still I have that nagging feeling...

My house is "post nuclear" gross.  And as much as I try to tell myself that it is my job and my pride to keep it clean, I just don't want to do it....

So, here I sit, reading blogs and feeling blah.

*sigh*

Good News For Eli

Eli was moved out of the I.C.U. today.

You can click on his adorable picture on my sidebar to read all the updates.

Dear Blog Spammers,

I am breaking up with you.

Actually, I never agreed to be with you, so I think you're pretty presumptuous- hanging around here saying all your random stuff.

Believe me, I have never offered you a product for $5.  Any product.  Because I don't pimp products.  I don't even have ads!

Also, let me just be frank here.  I'm straight.  So, it goes to follow that I would not be interested in an Asian/Latina/Russian mail order bride.  But believe me, if I ever decided to switch teams, the Internet is the first place I would look.  I would probably even end up on your site. 

I don't need to rent a skip hauler form the U.K.

I will never buy a mattress from the Internet.  I'm a "lay and try" kind of girl.

So, please, leave me alone.

It's not like I haven't tried gentle dissuasion.  I have word verification.  For most blog gals that is enough.  But, I understand that you find me irresistible.

Do me a favor, though, and just read in silence.

Because, honestly, I can't stand to see your broken English blather on my blog.

Go. Away.     Now!

For The Record

I don't know what my sisters were thinking.  One of them should have married a Buford or something.  But, no.  They both married a Dave/David.

One of them goes by Dave, the other by David.  We can keep them straight- but the outside world seems to have a little trouble with that.

Trish, of goggle fame, married Dave.  Dave is the one who pulled the little Christmas visit stunt.

Angie married David, who doesn't blog -but should, and who also left me my first comment ever (On this post), and who faithfully reads my blog and tells me how funny this or that was.

OK, Everybody all straight now?  Good.

We Are Family!

This is my sister, Trish.

She blogs.

You may recognise this picture.

Apparently, her son, Ben, takes after her.

I've looked at these pictures repeatedly, and I just noticed this.

Don't Shoot!

I was driving along today (on my way home from the accountant's office) when I tuned in to the small ramblings in my backseat.

The short boy was playing with his newly-found-at-Grandma's-house Happy Meal toy that shoots some sort of penguins:

"Don't shoot me!  I'm too cute to be shooted!"

Why, yes, Short Guy, you are.

*******************************************************

Other than that folks, I'm drawing a total blank and I need your help.  What do you want me to blog about?

Eli

Eli lives in Hungary. Other than that he could be your son, or mine.

Eli is very sick. He has an ear infection that has spread to the sinuses and the bones in his face. He also has a thrombosis in the area to complicate things.

His parents are VERY worried, and his mom even cut short a trip home to the US so she could be at home in Hungary with him.

Please pray for Eli and rally around his family like I have seen you do.

The Apple Doesn't Fall Far From The Tree

MOST of the time I steer clear of airing my political/social views.  Not that you all don't know that I am uber-right wing, just that I usually reserve this space for the cute stuff my kids do.

Well, once in a while my childerns' cuteness and politics come together.

Remember, that you never want to wander into my 11 year old's mind unattended.  This is his latest.

Anchor babies.  Babies- usually Mexican- that are born to illegal imigrants in the US.  Anchor babies are US citizens, and the parents are not deported because the child cannot be deported.

"Mom, you know Anchor Babies?"

"Yeah...."

"I have a plan.  You wanna hear it?"

"OK."

"Since anchor babies are US citizens, they should still deport the parents.  The citizen child can be taken with them without losing thier citizenship, and they could come back at any time that the parents could make arrangements for them to stay with a friend or relative.  Or the child could be surrendered to the foster care system.  When the child turns 18 they are free to live in the US alone and if they are in Mexico, they are welcome to come back to live.

"Don't you think that would cut way back on anchor babies?"

"I think that may just do the job, son."

Folks, if an 11 year old can figure out a solution to the problem of Anchor Babies, why can't government?