No, no, no!!!

Great news: Dad located the problem with our computer (it was exactly what I suspected), got the part ordered, and now the ol' 'puter and I are on speaking terms again.

Not so great news: Stephen woke up throwing up last night and I've felt queasy (and not in a normal pregnancy way) for several hours now. I threw up once, but I can't tell if it was illness related or not. Apparently there's a nasty tummy bug that's been going around the area, and until now, I thought we dodged it. I called Sweet Hubby at work and he's not feeling so hot either. So now I'm panicked about tomorrow night. We HAVE to go to that concert. And we have to be the ones to use the tickets. They have our names on them and the tickets say that they may ask for ID at the door to make sure the names match, so if we don't go, my mother-in-law's sweet Christmas present will be a waste.

*thinking healthy thoughts*thinking healthy thoughts*thinking healthy thoughts*

Crazy

I recently realized that when Stephen was Marc-Adam's age, I had Zachary. And when Stephen was Zachary's age, I had Marc-Adam. C.R.A.Z.Y. I love all my boys dearly and don't even want to imagine life without them, but sometimes I wonder what the heck we were thinking! When I hear about someone getting pregnant while their youngest (or only) is 1 year old, I think, "Wow, their kids are going to be really close together!" Then I realize, WAIT, I did that! TWICE. Even now, Marc-Adam seems so young to be a big brother. He's my baby. But I do love that my boys are so close in age. And that not even Stephen will be able to remember a day when he wasn't a brother.

I can't think of a title

We had a pretty fabulous weekend. Things just kinda fell into place, I guess. I've mentioned before that Sweet Hubby was working a 4 day on/3 day off schedule, but that changed this week and now he's working 4 days on/4 days off. So that means that every few weeks, he'll have weekends off! So this week, he had W/Th/F/Sat off. The kids talked their grandparents into letting them spend the night--one night with each set of grandparents, so Sweet Hubby and I had two whole evenings to ourselves!! It was sooo nice and what I love about us is that whenever we don't have the kids, it's never awkward for us, we just fall right in to being "just us" with plenty to talk about and lots to do.

Yesterday, we threw some of our junk treasures into my cousin's garage sale (thanks bj!) and made fifty bucks out of it. For minimal work. The kids weren't there the night before when we started getting stuff together and tagging it. When Stephen saw a kid walking around with one of our old toys, he said, "Hey look Mom! That's just like the toy we have at home!" On one hand I felt bad for not telling him that it was ours from home, but on the other hand, I had to kind of giggle to myself when I responded, "It sure is!"

I had an interesting conversation with Stephen this morning. You know Stephen lost his first tooth last week. I've never said anything about the Tooth Fairy, but kids just kinda get indoctrinated with that kind of stuff, so he knew about it and was excited about leaving his tooth under his pillow (we ended up leaving on his night stand). If you've been reading my blog for long, you know how I feel about Santa. I feel the same way about the Tooth Fairy and the Easter Bunny and all that. But in his excitement about his first tooth, I didn't want to ruin it for him. So I neither confirmed nor denied the existence of the Tooth Fairy when he lost his first tooth. When he would say, "The Tooth Fairy's gonna come!" I would say, "Okay!" And I played the part and left him some money. The next morning, the first thing he said was, "SHE IS REAL!!" I just smiled at him. And I never brought it up again.

Then this morning in the car on the way home from church, he sweetly asked, "Mama, did you take my tooth when I left it for the tooth fairy?" I felt a little cornered and stalled by asking him what he meant. And I did want to get to the bottom of his question and give him the information he was asking for. He asked again if I took his tooth and left the money instead of the Tooth Fairy. Then I asked him what he thought happened. He said, "I think you did it." I try to never actually take the fun and the whimsy out of those situations, so I said, "I think it's fun to pretend to be the tooth fairy." He asked if I wore a tu-tu when I did it. Then we giggled about the idea of me sneaking into his room wearing a tu-tu and plastic wings with a magic wand. It was great and I love that he can ask me questions without worry and that he knows he'll always get a straight answer from me.

I KNOW I've been talking a lot about Stephen the last few weeks and not much about the other boys, and I'm going to try to balance it out over the next several posts, but Stephen's just giving me so much to think and blog about. Here's another Stephen-ism:

Lately, any time he asks me a question, before I answer it for real I ask him what he thinks about it. Today, he asked, "Mom, do you have spit?" Yes. "Does Ryan have spit?" Yes. "Why did God give us spit?" What do you think? "What is spit made of?" What do you think? "I think it's made of bubble wrap and water." I laughed and asked why. He spit into his hand, showed me and said, "See? It looks like bubble wrap and water." And you know what, y'all? It does look like bubble wrap and water.

Summer Boredom Busters

This is a post that's probably best suited for Works for Me Wednesday, but I always remember that it's Wednesday too late. And this is on my mind now....

So it's HOT here. And the goal of everyday for me is to stay inside as much as possible with A/C on. I seriously wilt in the heat....headaches, nausea, weak and shaky feelings. I just can't handle it. So needless to say, we've been in the house a lot the last few weeks and for a while, the kids were getting VERY restless. I realized that once all the games had been played, all the books had been read, all the shows on DVR had been watched and the kids were tired of each other, I needed to come up with something fun, NOW. So here are the a couple of the things we do when nothing else works:

*Sock Wars. This is so fun, y'all. I'm guessing you could just let the kids loose and play by themselves if you have to, but I can't resist a game of Sock Wars with my kids. Gather up as many pairs of balled up socks as you can...kids socks work best and I'd say 10 or so pairs per person is the most fun. Get on opposite ends of the room and just throw the socks at each other, all the while trying not to get hit. Silliness is key, too. I love getting my kids really distracted with something silly and then pelting them when they least expect it....they fall over laughing, they think it's so hilarious. And the good thing about the socks is that there's really no way anyone can get hurt by getting hit...unless they get in the eye unexpectedly, which has happened a few times here, but they quickly get over it. Anyway, we wear ourselves out with this game. And my kids can't believe I'd let them throw things at each other OR make a mess like this.

*Window coloring. Did you know that dry erase markers come off windows easily? I learned that by accident one day when Marc-Adam colored every surface in the play room with a marker (however, dry erase marker does not come off walls or rugs so easily). I use this one as a last resort simply because even though the older two kids understand which surfaces we can color on and which we can't, Marc-Adam does not. But if you don't have little ones around, letting the kids color on the windows is great fun.

*Milk blowing. Ok, this was not originally my idea, and personally, I think it's weird and kinda gross, but my kids LOVE this. Get a plate, a small cup and a straw. Fill the cup about halfway with milk and put the cup on the plate. Let the kids use the straws to blow in to the milk and make bubbles. If they overflow the cup, it'll drip on to the plate, so there's little clean up. Seriously, my kids could do this for half an hour. It's so weird. After a while, the milk gets warm and slobbery and then they want to drink it which really grosses me out, so I try to take it away before they get that idea. But if they do drink some, it's no biggie.

So what kind of boredom busters do you use?

To my "Baby":

My dear sweet child, you must slow down this growing up thing of yours. Your babyhood is going by entirely too quickly for me. I feel like you've turned into this fiery little toddler before I've even had a chance to blink.

I absolutely love the sweet new little sound you make when you give kisses now, but oh I do miss the open mouth slobbery ones. And when I hold you chest to chest in your rocking chair to relax or spend some quiet time with you, your legs are almost too long to sit like that comfortably for more than a few minutes. Your newfound independence is wonderful and it's amazing to watch you venture out in to your world without me, but I wonder what happened to the timid toddler that would cling to me for a while to check things out before inching away to find things on his own. Your vocabulary is growing by the day, and while we always talk correctly with you, there's a big part of me that doesn't want the day to come that you start saying all your words correctly. I enjoy too much the cute little way you have of saying things.

It's interesting and bittersweet to me how I can be so excited and so happy to watch you grow and flourish and thrive in our family and at the same time be so sad to know that the those sweet cuddly moments of babyhood have slipped through my fingers, like time always does. So slow down, Sweet One, so I can take in this moment in your life, right now. Things often get rushed in this crazy life of ours, but I never want to rush you....I never want to wish away this time. Take your time. I'm here and watching and enjoying every minute of you.

Love,
Your mama

Let's play "Who's Going Down First?"

Sibling rivalry.

Humph.

I don't think that term does the actual relationship justice.

It's like "morning sickness". Uh, yeah. Right. Try using that phrase around a woman who has had her head in a toilet around the clock for 5 months.

Sibling rivalry. Sure.

I think the more appropriate term for what's happening in our house is "Sibling Death Match".

Rivalry. Pfffft.

After a dose of Tylenol and a short nap, I was able to haul my rear out of bed to have this conversation with Stephen:

Stephen (to himself): Damn, damn, damn.

Me (calmly, after overhearing him): What'd you say?

Stephen (looking a bit like a deer in the headlights): I was just saying damn. Not like, "Damn, you're stupid" or "Damn, dad did something bad". Just damn. I don't want to get in trouble! I wasn't saying it bad!!

Me (trying not to fall out of my chair laughing and keep myself from crying because it hurts to laugh this hard): Okay. I appreciate that you weren't meaning anything bad, but it's still not an okay word for 5 year olds to say.


I have no idea where that came from.

I'm afraid the conversation won't come across on the blog nearly as funny as I found. But I suppose you just have to know Stephen. For the record, he might have heard the word damn uttered a few times in our house, but never "Damn you're stupid" or "Damn, dad did something bad". Really, it's just damn. And honestly, "stupid" is more of a dirty word in our house than "damn".

You know you've been spending too much time with your kids when....

....you use words like "potty" and "night-night" in conversation with other adults.

Yeah.

I am Mommy, hear me roar

So as you all know (because I've mentioned once or forty-two times), Stephen started T-ball this year. For the most part, we've had fun with it. But things are starting to take a turn...

I haven't always been impressed with the coach. But I told myself (and Sweet Hubby) that we don't know what it's like trying to teach 12 5-year-olds the intricacies of a ball game. And really, are the details really all that important at this age? But there have been more than a few things happening that make me raise my eyebrows. Like the team mom, the coach's wife, yelling "Son of a b!tch!" from the dugout loud enough for the kids to hear. And the coach on more than one occasion telling his child and one other child that he was going to beat them. And the coach's child shoving Stephen and calling him chicken or stomping on his foot at second base. And the grown-man wannabe coach who laughs at and teases Stephen when he has to go to the bathroom for the fourth time during practice. It's enough to make me queasy, really. And angry. Things like this are exactly the reasons why we're choosing to homeschool. Why in the world would we pay to have our child subjected to it?

Stephen's even getting discouraged by it all. He told me this weekend that he didn't want to go to the game because of "Braaaandon" (which by the way, is not his real name, but it is what Stephen calls him and because of the way this kid has treated Stephen, I've never corrected him). He just doesn't understand. Stephen is loud and bossy and boisterous and exuberant. He's been known to shove one of his brothers a time or two and heaven knows he can yell when he's mad. But he and I both know he would never do that to another child. He's just not the kind of kid to lash out physically. So neither one of us can really understand where these other kids are coming from.

So it's obvious we had a decision to make, Sweet Hubby and I. Sweet Hubby's instinct was to tell Stephen to shove the other kid back when Stephen first got shoved. My instinct is to "turn the other cheek", not seek revenge, and the be the bigger "man". I realize there's a fine line between being confident enough to not fight back and being wimpy and not fighting back, and then consequently being picked on all the time. How do you teach that to a 5 year old? Does a 5 year old even need to learn this? There's a big difference between a 5 year old and a 10 year old learning to handle and defend himself. Honestly, deep down, there's a primal, immature part of me that wants to punch the coach in the face for not handling his own kid better and for not demanding that these kids learn respect and sportsmanship first, before learning how to hit or throw a ball. But I'm clinging to what I know is right, and what we're wanting to teach our children. There are, after all, always watching.

Beyond giving Stephen guidance on how to handle all this, we also had to decide if we were going to continue subjecting him to it. Here's the back and forth we had about it:

There's only a month left in the season.

But there are at least 2 games each week.

If we let him quit, we won't have to teach him this lesson right now when we think he's too young.

If we let him quit, we might be inadvertently teaching him that just because we don't like the people we have to deal with, we can just walk away.

If we keep him in it, someone (us as parents or Stephen) might do something they will regret.

If we keep him in it, we might have the opportunity to show God's love to someone else by the way we handle another bad situation.


Obviously, Sweet Hubby and I are both conflicted about it. But some good has come from it so far. Last practice was when Stephen got shoved. I wasn't at the practice, and on the way home I was asking Stephen a series of questions, trying to get him thinking about it all. Here are parts of our conversation. (Sweet Hubby and I are red, Stephen's blue.)

"So how did it make you feel when Brandon pushed you?"

"I didn't like it."

"Have you ever pushed Zachary?"

Long pause. "No?"

"Yes you have, and do you think Zachary felt the same way you did when Brandon pushed you today?"

"Yes."

"God wants us to do and say things that build people up and help them. Not tear them down."

"Why did Brandon push me like that?"

"It has nothing to do with you, Sweetie. Brandon has a lot of foolishness bound up in his heart and maybe his mom and dad aren't helping him get it out like your mom and dad are."

"Why doesn't Brandon's mom read the bible with him?"

"Well, we don't know that she doesn't. But some people don't do things the way we do them, and that's okay. But that also means that we're given opportunities to show God's love to them so that they know about it, even if they don't read the bible."

"I'm glad you read the bible with me."

And then I melted.

I can kind of see how the hard month that we had with Stephen's behavior and the issues we're having with t-ball are all coming together for Stephen (and I) to have a better understand of what we're supposed to do. And that what how we're raising these little men is actually paying off.

So here's the decision we reached (believe it or not, I actually started this post last week before we made the decision). We're going to have him finish out the season. We're not even going to give him the option to quit. However, one of us will be sitting in the dugout with him at all times (I suspect that that's where most of the misbehavior takes place, and believe me, it's not just Brandon misbehaving) and during practices, Sweet Hubby or one of his grandfathers will stay near him on the field to try to make sure the kids don't lay a hand on each other (any of them, not just ours). Sweet Hubby is as much on board with this as I am, but at first he bristled at the thought of trying to protect Stephen like this. He made the old argument that Mommy and Daddy can't always be there to protect him. I gently reminded him that he's FIVE and if he were 10 or even 7 or 8, that we would be having a different conversation. I think he finally realized that some of us aren't equipped to handle this kind of thing in our 20's. Why in the world would we expect a five year old to be able to?

Wordless Wednesday--What you get when the kids get a hold of the camera

Anyone have a magic wand?

Y'all, I wish I had some happy ending update and that I could stop posting about our issues with Stephen. And I don't want to sound like I'm whining or complaining, because that's not it. It's just that it's still hard and I'm worried. I seriously didn't think I would have to deal with stuff like this until he was 10 or 16 or something. The attitude. I almost have to make sure I set a place at the table for it. And give it a bath. Because it has taken over my sweet little child.

Things had been going so well for such a long time. I honestly thought that I had it easy with Stephen. I thought that since he was so well behaved and sweet that if I stayed consistent with him, the road from here to puberty would be smooth sailing. I have become those mothers I've judged for so long. You know, the mothers in the grocery store whose child slaps them and the mother does nothing? Well, if he hit me in the store, I would do something, but it would probably be just firmly telling him no hitting and then leaving. Because beyond that, I have no idea what to do. I have no idea how to handle the attitude, the arguing, the whining, the doubting, the heavy sighing, the eye rolling....etc, etc. It goes on all. day. long. If I came down on him and corrected every single thing that I don't allow him to do, I would correcting him every minute of every day. Even when I try to start us on an activity that I know he enjoys, if he doesn't get to be the boss/be first/call the shots/get the best or biggest, then things fall apart and things get ugly. I just don't know what to do.

I've been in a state of almost constant prayer. And survival mode. One foot in front of the other kind of thing. I feel like I've lost his respect somehow. He seems to doubt and question every thing I say or do. Which is putting HUGE doubts in my head about homeschooling and makes me worry about what I tell him about God. Because it's like he doesn't want to believe anything I say. And that is breaking my heart.

Are you tired of this yet?

I know my going on and on about our issues with Stephen is probably wearing thin with my readers. But it's this or nothin' since this is what's on my mind. And I need proof that he wasn't an angel child all his life when my grandkids are 5 and I'm wondering why in the world my son and daughter-in-law can't control them. Because I'm pretty sure that's something I would do.

So it's obvious that there are some pretty serious things going on in Stephen's mind and heart. I think my absence really shook up his world, so I've engaged in full-scale damage control. Last night, Sweet Hubby blew up our air mattress and I camped out in the kids' room for the entire night. And the plan is that I'm going to keep doing that until Stephen is feeling more secure. Honestly, I think it's the only way that anyone is going to sleep until we get this sorted out. I have no idea how I'm going to get out of their room and back into my own bed when that time comes, but I have been prayerful about the whole situation, so I'm hopeful that the how and when will be clear when the time comes. Until then, I'm going to praise him big time when we all get a good night's sleep and I'm going to take the stress and pressure off. It was just too much for all of us. It was running our whole family for a few days and no one was happy. I've reminded him several times that I'm only sleeping in there for a little while. Last night, he was under the impression that I was only sleeping in there for one night. And I didn't correct him. Truth is that Sweet Hubby have decided to commit a month to this. So hopefully this time next month I'll be reporting to you that all is back to normal or that we've concocted a new normal that we are all happy with (which I promise will include me sleeping in my bed and him sleeping in his).

Until then, I'll probably be achy and tired. The thought of sleeping on an air mattress for a couple of weeks makes me want to run out and by an economy size bottle of extra strength pain reliever. But it's worth it to help Stephen know that even though it might have been shaken up a bit, his foundation is still there and is still firm.

An inside peek at the working of Zachary's mind

These are the random thoughts that came out of Zachary's mouth today over lunch (and they were indeed in this order):

"In the bible, it says God made me. If you get sick, you eat good food. If your body gets sick, you eat good food, not bad food. Like blueberry pie. That's good."

I don't think he's ever even had bluberry pie.

Our new gallery, some t-ball and more!

It's been a busy bloggy day for me!! But I've been meaning to post some of these pics for a while (not the first one, because I just took it).

Check out our new "gallery" I just put up this morning.



It's simple, but I'm proud of it. The kids were so excited to have their art hung up. It's just yarn pinned to the wall and the art is hung with those little clothes clip-py things (I can't think of the word right now for some reason...). It's fun and it's a cute touch to the playroom.

Stephen had t-ball tryouts on Monday. He did GREAT. They had 3 batting attempts and 3 catch attempts. He hit the ball 2 out of 3 swings and caught the ball 2 or 3 times (I can't remember now).



And this is how I caught Marc-Adam the other day:



Now, I'm not sure if the stool was already in the kitchen or if it was actually up against the wall like that, but this is slightly scary to me. That kid is trouble!

And here's a cute one of Z. He just tuckers out sometimes and finds a soft place to fall.

More things I can't believe I've had to say:

"Stephen, give your brother back his arm. Zachary, give Stephen his eye back."


"No, you may not spit on your underwears. "


"GET OUT OF THE TOILET!!"


"GET OUT OF THE TRASH!!"

Just a bunch of words.

I don't have much to say, but feel like I should blog. I just always have this feeling that I'm not interesting. That my life isn't interesting and worth typing out on a public blog for other real people to read. I think the only people truly interested in what I put out here are (is? are? ahhh, whatever) my parents. So I have a hard time thinkin' up things to blog about. Because you don't really want to hear about how we had to leave the children's museum early today because it was so.stinking.crowded and I was panicked that I would lose track of one of my children. Or about how I want to highlight my hair and bought a box of DIY stuff but am nervous to use it. Or about how I can't find a good solution for cleaning my floors. But those are the most interesting things in my life. So I have to dig deep for blog fodder.

I suppose I could talk about my neighbor girl, the 11-year-old I mentioned in my last post or last week or something like that. She is such a sweetheart. And I'm growing to love her like one of my own children. She was with us all day today because she was out of school for MLK day. I just have the best time with her and I half-joked with her that I wish she could hang out with us all day, everyday. She's great with the boys (and they adore her) and we seem to have the same kind of sense of humor. Her mom is thinking about moving at the end of the school year and I begin to get a sick, panicky feeling when I think about that possibility. Being with her makes me ache so badly for a daughter of my own and the thought of her not being around on a daily basis anymore makes it worse.

On a lighter note, I feel the need to mention that Marc-Adam climbed out of his crib last week. Without hurting himself. At some point in the process of getting out he had to have fallen some distance. But I had no idea he was out until I heard him banging on the door. Silly kid. He drives me batty, and yet, I just can't seem to get enough of him.

So, does anyone else feel like they have nothing interesting to say, but they just blog anyway?

WFMW, Backwards Edition--Help with young toddler, please!

The baby is 14.5 months old and by far the most stubborn, persistent child we've had up to this point. There are several things in the living area of our home that are off limits to him that he is obsessed with. I'm sure he's obsessed simply because he knows they are off limits, but he's driving me batty with his persistence. The four "hot spots" are the books on the bookshelf, the TV buttons on the TV (particularly the on/off button while the two older kids are engrossed in their show), the entertainment center doors and the older kids' chore cards. Even if I wanted to, I can't do anything about removing the TV buttons, entertainment center doors or the kids' chore cards. I could remove the books from the bookshelf for a while, but what's that teaching him? I don't remember the other two being nearly this obsessed with the "no-no" things.

So what do you do to teach them at this age that certain things are off limits? I've done the re-direction thing with him for four months now and it hasn't helped one bit. I could seriously re-direct him for over an hour but he's just so focused. I tell him "No. Not Marc-Adam's. Don't touch." over and over again, but it doesn't make usually make a difference. And if it does, he just melts into tears for a few minutes, I then re-direct him to a new activity and then 30 seconds later he's back at it again. At times, it even seems like he thinks it's a game because I rush at him when he's playing with the cards or the books because I want to get to him before he totally tears something up. He then starts giggling at me and gets excited. I spend a large chunk of my day dealing with this behavior, but I'm out of ideas on how to rein him in a little bit. So what can I do about that?? Is there hope? PLEASE HELP!!

Go to Rocks In My Dryer to see if you can offer any help to other bloggers.

Sometimes all you need is another set of eyes

Up until a few days ago, meal time around here had gotten pretty ugly. The kids' manners had started to fall away and they're attitudes about the meals were bordering nasty. There was silliness at the table, whining, fighting and they were never happy about whatever was in front of them. Every single meal I made was met with whines and eventually, they just quit eating my meals and started living on snacks. So a few weeks ago, I cut out the afternoon snack. That helped a little bit, but I was still enduring ugly attitudes at dinner time. I'd like to tell you that I'm a big enough person that the opinions of a 3 and 4 year old didn't get to me, but that would be a big fat lie. Because it did get to me. I dreaded making dinner because I felt so unappreciated. And I was just.so.tired.of the whining.

And then last week my BFF, Alison, and her darling daughter came to visit. I was lamenting to Alison about meal times and how they were really getting to me and how I needed to do something but I wasn't sure what. She said, "Well, how about if they complain about it, they don't get to eat at all. They won't starve if they miss a meal or two because of it."

Wow. That seems so simple, I thought. Why didn't I think of that? I thought. And then I realized why I didn't think of that. I've gotten a little lazy in my parenting in the last year or so just so I could survive. I've been doing whatever was easiest to keep the peace (and my sanity), even if it meant the kids walked all over me. But now I'm getting past merely surviving and the kids need me to be past that so I can give them more guidance in how to act properly.

So, out of desperation, we started with the new rule that night at dinner. Before I made dinner, I gathered the boys and laid it out....if you whine/complain/make one tiny nasty comment about dinner, your dinner will be over and you will be excused from the table. I knew and prepared myself for the fact that someone would not be eating dinner that night (and I had a feeling I knew who it would be) and then that someone would serenade the rest of our dinner with their wailing. But I had Sweet Hubby and Alison to back me up (and to keep me from caving into their cries). Sure enough, Zachary (the one I suspected would go to bed with an empty tummy) sneered at the broccoli and called it "yuck" (I know he doesn't like broccoli and he didn't have to eat it, but calling it yuck was not acceptable). He was excused from the table immediately and his plate was swiftly taken from the table. And as I also predicted, he serenaded our dinner with whines, cries and wailing. Stephen, trying to earn brownie points, went a little overboard telling me how good the dinner was, Mama, and it was so yummy, Mama, thank you, Mama. I choked down the rest of my dinner, almost near tears because it nearly broke my heart that my child was begging to eat and I was telling him no. But he didn't starve. He actually made it to breakfast the next morning.

The next day, I also added bad manners to the list of "Do not pass go, do not collect $200, you may get down from the table."

We only had that one incident on that very first night.

And I'll tell you what, not only do I have sweet, civilized children at the dinner table, but they are appreciative and actually EATING the dinner. No whining. No complaints. No 489 reminders to keep eating and you need to eat at least one bite of your vegetable. Seriously. It's so much more peaceful.

So I'm convinced I just needed another set of eyes that were way more objective than I could be....and a little kick in the pants to quit being so lazy just to keep everyone happy didn't hurt, either.

And God bless his sweet little heart.

This evening, the kids and I were saying our prayers before bed. When it was my turn, I said something about 'Thank you for Pastor Bill and all our Sunday School teachers. And be with the people who don't have homes or families this season....."

After all the prayers were said and we said our final amen, Stephen looked up at me with his big dark eyes and said very sadly and quietly, "Mommy? Pastor Bill doesn't have a home?"

I think he would have seriously asked Pastor Bill to come live with us.

The Plan, it has backfired

Earlier today, Stephen overheard me joking with my mom about something being "made in China". At dinner, he reminded me that not every toy was made in China (even thought that's not really what I had been discussing with my mom), and I told him that most toys were and I could prove it. We just so happened to have a Veggie Tales pirate ship on our table during dinner (yes, we have interesting centerpieces), so I turned it over and showed him where it said "Made in China". He paused for a second, in deep thought, and said, "Ohhhh, that's right. Santa died and now the people in China have to make our toys."


Oh dear.