"Hugantis" [pronounced "huge-antis"] - It's her new word for something extremely large (to her) - it's the next "ginormous." You heard it hear first.
[On why Emmett should wear his new-to-him leather bomber jacket]: "It's a man's jacket. It's a rock-and-roll jacket!" - Where does she learn these things?!
"When Joey grows up, he's going to be strong like a girl!" - You go, girl!
[After I asked if it's nice to be home playing with her own toys, after all our travels]: "Yeah, but I like when we go on adventures, too." "Adventures?" "Yeah, like when we go see other people . . . and when we go to Paris . . ." - Note, this has not happened yet, but she has been convinced, since she learned that's where her Great Aunt and Uncle live, we will be visiting Paris when she turns six. She has no idea where that is or why anyone else would want to visit, except to visit Uncle Gary and Aunt Becky.
"When I was getting eaten by a dinosaur, a snake came out, because the dinosaur ate it, too. And it was scary and I said, 'Stop, you snake!' [insert Heisman pose here]. And then we played together inside the dinosaur. And we lived happily ever after." - Mark my words, this girl will be a writer someday.
Every day is a new adventure with this one.
1,000 Gifts:
1074. Late-night girl talk
1075. Getting our Vitamin D the natural way
1076. Fistfuls of cat fur (still attached to the cat), and a patient feline
1077. Friendship, new and old
1078. Long awaited prayers answered
1079. Newborn babies
31 January 2013
27 January 2013
Of Boundaries
I can't be the only parent to have experienced that moment - the one in which you wish you hadn't caught them in their disobedience because now, in your striving for consistency, you have to issue consequences, rather than just closing the door quietly, whispering, "Carry on."
Because that's what I truly desired to do after hearing muttering in their room - a sure sign they're not sleeping, for the umpteenth night in a row - and entering to discover an empty bed for Emmett and the two of them laying side-by-side - he even covered by his own blanket he'd brought with him - snuggled on her bed, talking quietly - about life and the golden moon, I'm sure.
And what is a parent to do, really, when this crawling out of his bed to play with his sister is the habit you've been working to break for nearly a year now, but the thought of them falling asleep this way, soul-to-soul, is the most precious time you could imagine for them?
I put an end to it, then. I truly had to, for consistency's sake (right?) - but all I truly desired was that I'd never opened the door in the first place.
Sometimes I love them so much it hurts.
Because that's what I truly desired to do after hearing muttering in their room - a sure sign they're not sleeping, for the umpteenth night in a row - and entering to discover an empty bed for Emmett and the two of them laying side-by-side - he even covered by his own blanket he'd brought with him - snuggled on her bed, talking quietly - about life and the golden moon, I'm sure.
And what is a parent to do, really, when this crawling out of his bed to play with his sister is the habit you've been working to break for nearly a year now, but the thought of them falling asleep this way, soul-to-soul, is the most precious time you could imagine for them?
I put an end to it, then. I truly had to, for consistency's sake (right?) - but all I truly desired was that I'd never opened the door in the first place.
Sometimes I love them so much it hurts.
18 January 2013
Of Dentists and Haircuts
After having watched "The Berenstain Bears Go to the Dentist" innumerable times in our house, the announcement to Micaiah that she, herself, would be visiting the dentist this week was met with much glee. Honestly, I hoped she wouldn't be terribly disappointed, because I believe she was under the distinct impression that visiting the dentist would bring her to the rite of passage of a loose tooth. I didn't really have the heart to explain she would receive little more than a glorified brushing.
No worries, though, this girl was simply excited to be going. And we, as her parents, were pretty excited, too. It's a big step for us - yet another in a long line of firsts.
We were so proud of her, too, the way she marched right into that office with a smile that needed no brightening. She climbed into the big chair, grin still in tact, though slightly wavering as the reality of the room sunk in. Our hygienist was fantastic (as always, we're big fans) as she explained every tool to our little girl before she even tried to touch her mouth.
And the whole while, as though she's done this her whole life, our little girl leaned back, mouth wide open, waiting for the event to start. We could see signs of worry, the clenching of the fists, the pointing of her little toes, but she held a brave face the entire time and came out a champ.
And as if going to the dentist weren't a reward in and of itself, the fact that she walked out of there with a Princess toothbrush, pink floss, new toothpaste and a hot pink timer to keep her on track when brushing would all have been enough to guarantee a repeat visit. This girl is sold - the dentist is totally where all the cool kids go.
And, of course, ice cream is where they go next (And we'll try to forget she opted for Mint Chocolate Chip ice cream . . . and liked it. If it weren't for her Daddy's eyes, we might have to question if she were really ours.).
In other firsts so far this year, Joseph had his first real haircut - Momma was tiring of the shaggy mullet. (Unless you had seen him personally, it would be hard to tell a difference - all the change came from the back, where the party was happening.)
And, getting jealous of her little brothers having all the hair-cutting fun, Micaiah continued to beg for her chance under the scissors. I finally agreed it was her time. She might have been super excited.
Before:
It's gone!
All snipped up.
All her precious curls - the ones she's been growing since birth:
She did not seem sad to see them go (and, no, I did not have to tell her to pose for this - this is her 100% genuine reaction to the haircut, running into the bathroom and twisting to see her new look).
(If you wish to see what the dry result is, you can check out the dentist pictures above, once again).
And that's it, folks. Our little ones are growing daily. Sometimes it's hard to believe, but we're always so proud to see them move forward.
No worries, though, this girl was simply excited to be going. And we, as her parents, were pretty excited, too. It's a big step for us - yet another in a long line of firsts.
We were so proud of her, too, the way she marched right into that office with a smile that needed no brightening. She climbed into the big chair, grin still in tact, though slightly wavering as the reality of the room sunk in. Our hygienist was fantastic (as always, we're big fans) as she explained every tool to our little girl before she even tried to touch her mouth.
And the whole while, as though she's done this her whole life, our little girl leaned back, mouth wide open, waiting for the event to start. We could see signs of worry, the clenching of the fists, the pointing of her little toes, but she held a brave face the entire time and came out a champ.
They even let her use cool shades for the bright lights - so jealous.
And as if going to the dentist weren't a reward in and of itself, the fact that she walked out of there with a Princess toothbrush, pink floss, new toothpaste and a hot pink timer to keep her on track when brushing would all have been enough to guarantee a repeat visit. This girl is sold - the dentist is totally where all the cool kids go.
And, of course, ice cream is where they go next (And we'll try to forget she opted for Mint Chocolate Chip ice cream . . . and liked it. If it weren't for her Daddy's eyes, we might have to question if she were really ours.).
In other firsts so far this year, Joseph had his first real haircut - Momma was tiring of the shaggy mullet. (Unless you had seen him personally, it would be hard to tell a difference - all the change came from the back, where the party was happening.)
And, getting jealous of her little brothers having all the hair-cutting fun, Micaiah continued to beg for her chance under the scissors. I finally agreed it was her time. She might have been super excited.
Before:
As another before, this was earlier the same day, as the kids, not understanding the length of the process, awaited apple chips from our new dehydrator:
So, of course, we sat her down with some Netflix (she opted for "My Little Pony," rather than her brother's stand-by of "Blue's Clues") and marshmallows (those are a necessary ingredient to the process), and I went to work.
All snipped up.
All her precious curls - the ones she's been growing since birth:
She did not seem sad to see them go (and, no, I did not have to tell her to pose for this - this is her 100% genuine reaction to the haircut, running into the bathroom and twisting to see her new look).
And that's it, folks. Our little ones are growing daily. Sometimes it's hard to believe, but we're always so proud to see them move forward.
08 January 2013
Of Her Snow List
One of the beauties of having grandparents who live further north is that our precious daughter has no concept of a Christmas that's not white (and, for that matter, she has very few memories of snow that are not associated with the holiday - which has led her to believe that snow=Christmas). And in her short years on this earth, she has developed a rather precise list of the activities which must occur whilst enjoying one's white Christmas.
Therefore, when next presented with snow (after getting over the fact that you will not, in fact, be receiving presents because it is not, in fact, Christmas day), you should know, it is absolutely necessary to make snow angels, throw snowballs and build a snowman (and she still believes Easter egg eyes are the norm on this one, because it's all Mom could come up with during the rare Oklahoma blizzard two years ago - when she was TWO - this girl forgets nothing).
A possible addition to the list after her experience this year (though, I recall, it was not her first, so maybe it's not a favorite): sledding. Then again, she might just pronounce this as an unrealistic expectation for the future, as she knows full-well Aunt Dia broke the pink sled. And we all know, if you don't have a pink sled, it's just not worth it.
In any matter, after enjoying a few warm days inside while visiting Gram and Grandy this December (and after many, many pleadings, from the moment we crossed the Nebraska border), we all gave in, bundled her and her brothers up (Joseph only just enough for the obligatory "first snow" photos) and tromped out to the growing layers of white crystals.
After being pulled on the sled for a few circles around the yard (due to lack of hills within Gram and Grandy's fence - don't worry, we visited one of those later in the week), she stood up and declared it was time for snowballs. Thus, she found fistfuls of powder (it had not enough time/moisture to become snowball ready, but this fact is of no importance to a four-year-old) and tossed them at Mom and Dad, giggling like a wild-woman the whole time.
Of course, we fought back - as is absolutely necessary.
When snowballs were concluded (after about two minutes), it was snow angel time. So, she and I laid ourselves in the cold wet, spread our arms and legs and completed the second item on her list (with a few tears on her side, due to the wild nature of her flailing and the ensuing snow shower on her face).
As the snow was shaken off, Micaiah declared, "Now we make a snowman."
Check.
Again, the precipitation was not so conducive to proper packing, so we ended up with more of a mound than a man, but the grapes and carrot from Gram made a suitable face just the same (sadly, no plastic eggs were involved).
We then snapped a few family photos with Frosty.
And with that, she was done.
Ready to go inside and warm up.
Meanwhile, her oldest brother, mittened fingers gripping the handles, would have been content to continue with rides on the bright orange sled (note: the one not broken a couple of days later) well into darkness, though we hardly allowed it considering the rest of us were perfectly fine with completing Micaiah's checklist and retreating into the warmth of the house.
He, apparently, is much more of a free spirit than the rest of us.
1,000 Gifts:
1068. A new year to count new gifts
1069. Snowflakes on the tongue
1070. A carton of ice cream and Netflix on a hormonal afternoon
1071. Saturating my memory with Scripture
1072. A few days to relax in the midst of travels
1073. Tiny locks of fine baby hair falling to the floor, and a mullet gone
Therefore, when next presented with snow (after getting over the fact that you will not, in fact, be receiving presents because it is not, in fact, Christmas day), you should know, it is absolutely necessary to make snow angels, throw snowballs and build a snowman (and she still believes Easter egg eyes are the norm on this one, because it's all Mom could come up with during the rare Oklahoma blizzard two years ago - when she was TWO - this girl forgets nothing).
A possible addition to the list after her experience this year (though, I recall, it was not her first, so maybe it's not a favorite): sledding. Then again, she might just pronounce this as an unrealistic expectation for the future, as she knows full-well Aunt Dia broke the pink sled. And we all know, if you don't have a pink sled, it's just not worth it.
In any matter, after enjoying a few warm days inside while visiting Gram and Grandy this December (and after many, many pleadings, from the moment we crossed the Nebraska border), we all gave in, bundled her and her brothers up (Joseph only just enough for the obligatory "first snow" photos) and tromped out to the growing layers of white crystals.
When snowballs were concluded (after about two minutes), it was snow angel time. So, she and I laid ourselves in the cold wet, spread our arms and legs and completed the second item on her list (with a few tears on her side, due to the wild nature of her flailing and the ensuing snow shower on her face).
As the snow was shaken off, Micaiah declared, "Now we make a snowman."
Check.
Again, the precipitation was not so conducive to proper packing, so we ended up with more of a mound than a man, but the grapes and carrot from Gram made a suitable face just the same (sadly, no plastic eggs were involved).
We then snapped a few family photos with Frosty.
And with that, she was done.
Ready to go inside and warm up.
Meanwhile, her oldest brother, mittened fingers gripping the handles, would have been content to continue with rides on the bright orange sled (note: the one not broken a couple of days later) well into darkness, though we hardly allowed it considering the rest of us were perfectly fine with completing Micaiah's checklist and retreating into the warmth of the house.
He, apparently, is much more of a free spirit than the rest of us.
1,000 Gifts:
1068. A new year to count new gifts
1069. Snowflakes on the tongue
1071. Saturating my memory with Scripture
1072. A few days to relax in the midst of travels
1073. Tiny locks of fine baby hair falling to the floor, and a mullet gone
20 December 2012
Of Christmas Traditions
I am a big fan of traditions. I like starting them and I like continuing them. With every passing year, I treasure the repetitious rituals - it's what makes a holiday feel "right" to me.
For Christmas, one of my favored activities growing up (admittedly, I think I was the only child who enjoyed this - or maybe my brother's complete disdain overshadowed my sister's shared joy, I can't be sure), was looking at Christmas lights. Every year, typically after the Christmas Eve service, my family would load up in the van, head to Sonic for milkshakes (because there's nothing like a cold treat while bundling up from the cold . . . apparently) and cruise the neighborhoods, admiring or critiquing the handiwork of others.
Thus, I have been eager to continue the tradition with our own little ones and have been pushing this for the past week. And tonight was the night.
I prepped myself for the dreamy image in my head of a blissful family evening to go quickly awry - it always seems to with toddlers. For our two big kids, who are accustomed to watching a dvd during any trip longer than five minutes, I was particularly concerned.
Apparently, though, Harry Connick, Jr. crooning "Frosty the Snowman" is the exact ingredient required to distract children from the lack of animated characters on the screen before them and entice them to gaze out the windows at the colored, blinking lights. Either that or the "oohs" and "aahs" were simply sympathy admiration given in an attempt to match their mother's exuberance. Either way, I'll take it.
The cries of, "Look, it's the Mommy purple reindeer and the Daddy purple riendeer!" and "It's Santa! He's real and he's looking in our car!" were joy to a Momma's heart (for just one night, I didn't even feel the need to correct him).
And, yes, this evening of family togetherness was brought to you by Sonic, who, as always, provided the snacks.
Coupled with the spontaneous caroling at the dinner table for the past couple of nights (our children are loving "Rudolph, the Red-Nosed Reindeer") and I would say it's beginning to look a lot like Christmas.
1,000 Gifts:
1063. Family traditions
1064. Lights on the street reminding us of the Light of the world
1065. "Good-bye, Puppy! Have a special day!" said Emmett
1066. An evening of frustration ending with everything working as it should
1067. Plans, all asunder, falling back into place
For Christmas, one of my favored activities growing up (admittedly, I think I was the only child who enjoyed this - or maybe my brother's complete disdain overshadowed my sister's shared joy, I can't be sure), was looking at Christmas lights. Every year, typically after the Christmas Eve service, my family would load up in the van, head to Sonic for milkshakes (because there's nothing like a cold treat while bundling up from the cold . . . apparently) and cruise the neighborhoods, admiring or critiquing the handiwork of others.
Thus, I have been eager to continue the tradition with our own little ones and have been pushing this for the past week. And tonight was the night.
I prepped myself for the dreamy image in my head of a blissful family evening to go quickly awry - it always seems to with toddlers. For our two big kids, who are accustomed to watching a dvd during any trip longer than five minutes, I was particularly concerned.
Apparently, though, Harry Connick, Jr. crooning "Frosty the Snowman" is the exact ingredient required to distract children from the lack of animated characters on the screen before them and entice them to gaze out the windows at the colored, blinking lights. Either that or the "oohs" and "aahs" were simply sympathy admiration given in an attempt to match their mother's exuberance. Either way, I'll take it.
The cries of, "Look, it's the Mommy purple reindeer and the Daddy purple riendeer!" and "It's Santa! He's real and he's looking in our car!" were joy to a Momma's heart (for just one night, I didn't even feel the need to correct him).
And, yes, this evening of family togetherness was brought to you by Sonic, who, as always, provided the snacks.
Coupled with the spontaneous caroling at the dinner table for the past couple of nights (our children are loving "Rudolph, the Red-Nosed Reindeer") and I would say it's beginning to look a lot like Christmas.
1,000 Gifts:
1063. Family traditions
1064. Lights on the street reminding us of the Light of the world
1065. "Good-bye, Puppy! Have a special day!" said Emmett
1066. An evening of frustration ending with everything working as it should
1067. Plans, all asunder, falling back into place
13 December 2012
Of Something More
With my husband gone for the evening, I find myself preparing to drown my loneliness in ice cream and chick flicks. Bringing my new favorite Blue Bell variety in from the deep freeze, I find myself wondering. Is this it?
Not, "Is this all the ice cream?" But, "Is this all of life?"
Looking forward to a bowl of sugar and milk and an evening on my couch. Is this all there is?
It's the same question I asked earlier this evening, as I changed another cloth diaper, putting another insert into the diaper pail, waiting to be washed and re-folded and re-filled and re-dumped into the pail. Is this endless parade of the same task all there is?
It's the same question I ask myself as I scurry through another December, determined not to be lost in the materialism, determining to let it all go and feeling as though it won't let go of me. So I find myself, only twelve days left, worried I won't have the packages in the mail on time - the packages I bought long before this ridiculous deadline. Is this breaking the same resolution year after year all there is?
It's the same question I asked myself a few weeks ago as I realized we're here. The American dream. We've achieved it. If the dream is a warm place to live, food in my belly and a family (pets included), with a little money to spare to satisfy our (smallish) whims - we're here. But is this really all there is?
And I find myself coming to the same answer: If I'm bored with life I must be doing something wrong.
It's like I have finally achieved all I meant to and now I keep waiting for something to happen and I don't even know what it is. I feel like Rose of Titanic fame, envisioning my entire life before me, an endless stream of the same. Glorifying God through it all, yes. Loving the little moments, the thousands of gifts, yes. But still feeling, truly knowing, that there is more to this.
And because I still haven't allowed myself to fully seek His path and let go of my own self-imposed to-do list, self-imposed expectations I imagine others have (or maybe don't even imagine, but the importance of their opinion is definitely sheer fantasy) and fully run after what I know He has laid before me, I remain listless unsatisfied, ready to just be home. Done with here and ready for there.
But I am still here. I still have a family I love, I still have friends who encourage, I still have the resources I need to do what He has asked - so maybe I should do something about this.
Maybe it's time to do something right.
1,000 Gifts:
1058. A warm December afternoon, shucking the coats and heading outside
1059. Tiny hands grasping orange fur
1060. The baby boy in my lap, giggling and nuzzling, in the warmth of the sun
1061. One bright spot of light on the wall, a ray breaking through the closed blinds
1062. This hope, a knowing, of something more.
Not, "Is this all the ice cream?" But, "Is this all of life?"
Looking forward to a bowl of sugar and milk and an evening on my couch. Is this all there is?
It's the same question I asked earlier this evening, as I changed another cloth diaper, putting another insert into the diaper pail, waiting to be washed and re-folded and re-filled and re-dumped into the pail. Is this endless parade of the same task all there is?
It's the same question I ask myself as I scurry through another December, determined not to be lost in the materialism, determining to let it all go and feeling as though it won't let go of me. So I find myself, only twelve days left, worried I won't have the packages in the mail on time - the packages I bought long before this ridiculous deadline. Is this breaking the same resolution year after year all there is?
It's the same question I asked myself a few weeks ago as I realized we're here. The American dream. We've achieved it. If the dream is a warm place to live, food in my belly and a family (pets included), with a little money to spare to satisfy our (smallish) whims - we're here. But is this really all there is?
And I find myself coming to the same answer: If I'm bored with life I must be doing something wrong.
It's like I have finally achieved all I meant to and now I keep waiting for something to happen and I don't even know what it is. I feel like Rose of Titanic fame, envisioning my entire life before me, an endless stream of the same. Glorifying God through it all, yes. Loving the little moments, the thousands of gifts, yes. But still feeling, truly knowing, that there is more to this.
And because I still haven't allowed myself to fully seek His path and let go of my own self-imposed to-do list, self-imposed expectations I imagine others have (or maybe don't even imagine, but the importance of their opinion is definitely sheer fantasy) and fully run after what I know He has laid before me, I remain listless unsatisfied, ready to just be home. Done with here and ready for there.
But I am still here. I still have a family I love, I still have friends who encourage, I still have the resources I need to do what He has asked - so maybe I should do something about this.
Maybe it's time to do something right.
1,000 Gifts:
1058. A warm December afternoon, shucking the coats and heading outside
1059. Tiny hands grasping orange fur
1060. The baby boy in my lap, giggling and nuzzling, in the warmth of the sun
1061. One bright spot of light on the wall, a ray breaking through the closed blinds
1062. This hope, a knowing, of something more.
10 December 2012
Of a List of Lately
This list has been about a week in the making, thus it keeps growing. Life will slow down someday, right?
- A couple weeks ago Joseph ate something that disagreed with him - it led to a late-night bath (which he loved), three changes of pajamas, and a cuddle session with Momma that lasted until 2am. And, yet, when he wasn't getting sick or sleeping, he was giggling and smiling. Happiest sick baby ever.
- That same week, we studied the 10 Plagues of Egypt here at home. As a result, Micaiah still talks about how we're all going to live because we put "blood" (in the form of a red ribbon) over our door (though Daddy's fate was questionable, because he was at work at the time and, thereby, not in the house), and the children continue to ask to drink blood at lunch (don't worry, we used Kool-Aid instead, because vampires aren't as cool as some people pretend).
- After a random suggestion by Micaiah, we planned an impromptu Saturday visit to the zoo last weekend. It was pretty much the best zoo trip I could imagine. Well, except for Emmett's insistence on calling the Bison "buffalo"- Mommy's still working on him. He's still not cooperating.
- While playing with the Nativity set last week, Micaiah (playing the part of Mary) instructed the Wise Men, "I don't want the stuff you brought; I just want stuff for the baby. I need water for the baby; bring me water!" That's our practical girl.
- Joseph has begun cruising around the house, walking along the edge of the fireplace (which is lined with pillows, lest you worry) and the couches. We predict walking before Christmas.
- Also, just in time for Christmas, Joseph's two front teeth. Wish granted.
- Last week, after I got out of class early, I broke Emmett out of his class and spent a little time playing in the nursery with just him. How fun it was to see what his little imagination comes up with all on his own, apart from influence from Big Sister. I almost never get an opportunity to have one-on-one Emmett time and those imaginary cookies coming out of the microwave (and refrigerator, and cabinet . . .) of the toy kitchen were just about the best I'd ever tasted.
- I had a rare good-Mommy moment when I created an impromptu lesson on Joshua and the walls of Jericho last week. We all marched around the wooden-block city of Jericho, shouted for all we had and watched the walls fall. We then watched the VeggieTales rendition of Josh and the Big Wall, because what Jericho lesson would be complete without the French Peas?
- We made a family (+ Adopt-a-Bison) made a visit to the annual Christmas Parade on Main St. The weather was perfect and the kids were perfectly content with the short half hour we stayed - they saw Santa (who Micaiah now insists is real) and each got a Tootsie Roll, what else could they need? After, we decorated Christmas cookies, for which Micaiah promptly created an eating schedule ("I will eat the star after lunch tomorrow, and then I'll eat the snowman after dinner . . .), to which she stuck perfectly.
And those are just the highlights . . .
- A couple weeks ago Joseph ate something that disagreed with him - it led to a late-night bath (which he loved), three changes of pajamas, and a cuddle session with Momma that lasted until 2am. And, yet, when he wasn't getting sick or sleeping, he was giggling and smiling. Happiest sick baby ever.
- That same week, we studied the 10 Plagues of Egypt here at home. As a result, Micaiah still talks about how we're all going to live because we put "blood" (in the form of a red ribbon) over our door (though Daddy's fate was questionable, because he was at work at the time and, thereby, not in the house), and the children continue to ask to drink blood at lunch (don't worry, we used Kool-Aid instead, because vampires aren't as cool as some people pretend).
- After a random suggestion by Micaiah, we planned an impromptu Saturday visit to the zoo last weekend. It was pretty much the best zoo trip I could imagine. Well, except for Emmett's insistence on calling the Bison "buffalo"- Mommy's still working on him. He's still not cooperating.
- While playing with the Nativity set last week, Micaiah (playing the part of Mary) instructed the Wise Men, "I don't want the stuff you brought; I just want stuff for the baby. I need water for the baby; bring me water!" That's our practical girl.
- Joseph has begun cruising around the house, walking along the edge of the fireplace (which is lined with pillows, lest you worry) and the couches. We predict walking before Christmas.
- Also, just in time for Christmas, Joseph's two front teeth. Wish granted.
- Last week, after I got out of class early, I broke Emmett out of his class and spent a little time playing in the nursery with just him. How fun it was to see what his little imagination comes up with all on his own, apart from influence from Big Sister. I almost never get an opportunity to have one-on-one Emmett time and those imaginary cookies coming out of the microwave (and refrigerator, and cabinet . . .) of the toy kitchen were just about the best I'd ever tasted.
- I had a rare good-Mommy moment when I created an impromptu lesson on Joshua and the walls of Jericho last week. We all marched around the wooden-block city of Jericho, shouted for all we had and watched the walls fall. We then watched the VeggieTales rendition of Josh and the Big Wall, because what Jericho lesson would be complete without the French Peas?
- We made a family (+ Adopt-a-Bison) made a visit to the annual Christmas Parade on Main St. The weather was perfect and the kids were perfectly content with the short half hour we stayed - they saw Santa (who Micaiah now insists is real) and each got a Tootsie Roll, what else could they need? After, we decorated Christmas cookies, for which Micaiah promptly created an eating schedule ("I will eat the star after lunch tomorrow, and then I'll eat the snowman after dinner . . .), to which she stuck perfectly.
And those are just the highlights . . .
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