Awesome Girl

See this girl to my left.

She's my girl.

She is VERY sweet.

She helped me with all my work today, asking me WHAT she could do.......

AND....all on her own.....without my prompting....

She brought out her school work and completed THREE subjects!!

How awesome is that? I have been telling the kids that we were getting back at school AFTER Labor Day. She decides to pull a fast one on me today and pulls out her books, much to my unprepared (although very impressed) self. Mule-headed as I am, however, I told her that I wasn't going through her work until AFTER Labor Day (what can say....I'm a person of my word). I have to totally prepare myself mentally when I start what I know to be something big. And starting the next school year is a BIG DEAL to me. And I am not prepared to begin until after the long weekend, plain and simple.

I know this much, Seth ain't starting until AFTER Labor Day......

A Tale Of Two Sisters

I have a little story to tell. It is a true story.

The names have been changed to protect the innocent.

There were two sisters who lived in the same apartment. The older sister was named Rachelle. The younger was named Jennifer. Rachelle was known to be serious and scholarly. Jennifer was outgoing and hotheaded. Generally, she was afraid of very little and was known for fighting battles for her older, more *dignified* sibling.

They both had one, very important thing in common: Their total, absolute, FEAR of eight-legged creatures.

They happened to be born into a family with strong genetic arachnophobia. In fact, their two *elder* aunts, Darlene and Alana, also possessed this strong genetic predisposition. In their younger days, they were known to damage walls and waste entire cans of hairspray on these critters. However, it was thought that the gene must have mutated a hundred fold because nothing and no one surpassed the fear that these two sisters, Rachelle and Jennifer had.

One dark, lonely night, these sisters were home alone. They were having a......disagreement...(they were known to have a *few* of these). The older one decided it was time to get into the shower. She grabbed a couple of clean towels, and with her glasses off - and thus half-blind state - noticed something black underneath one of the clean towels she had just dropped on the floor. To her dismay, it was a spider (although it looked like a dead spider). Totally freaked out, Rachelle jumped onto the toilet lid, because we all know that dead spiders are known to occasionally come back to life. She pounded the poor sucker with a broom (although how she got the broom while on the toilet seat remains a mystery.....), and then decided to spray it with half of a can of Raid. Just in case it was miraculously healed after the beating.

She then called her sister (whom she wasn't on the best of terms with at that moment....remember) because she needed moral support as well as a second opinion as to whether this was a dead spider or a fighting-for-life spider. And, whether it was the dead spider that still lay in another area of the floor of the bathroom (because dead spiders are just as intolerable as live ones and proper burials were not always given) or whether this was a second spider they were dealing with. Jennifer concluded that it was a SECOND spider, it's sibling lay in death elsewhere, and that she thought this spider looked dead to her (although she had a moment when she had second thoughts when trying to take a picture of the creature - for to her it looked alive through the lens of a camera....). Anyway, the final conclusion was reached that the ugly thing was dead. Five minutes of heated debate ensued as to who would clean it up (although I'm not sure why this one had to be cleaned up since it's sibling lay in another area of the bathroom floor, carelessly disregarded in death..). Rachelle thought Jennifer should since she killed it. Jennifer stated adamantly that she.would.NOT.

So, perched atop a stool (for the toilet lid by this time was becoming unstable), and still a teensy bit afraid this critter would yet pull a Lazarus, the eldest sibling very bravely took a broom and dust pan, put a kleenex on top of the dead spider (viewing of the body was unacceptable), and tried to sweep it into the dust pan. This proved very difficult, however, for the kleenex got soggy because of all of the Raid (literally leaving the floor WET), so the added assistance of Jennifer's flip flop (to Jennifer's SUPREME annoyance) finally put the creature onto the dustpan, where it eventually had it's burial in a sea of toilet water.

The tale does not end here, unfortunately, for just as Rachelle was about to get into the shower for a second time, Jennifer let out a shriek from her bedroom. Rachelle went into her sister's bedroom, knowing full well what the problem was going to be. On the wall in Jennifer's room was a monstrous-sized, fully ALIVE, crawling SPIDER. Totally ticked by this time, both at the offensive creature AND her sister's hysterics, for by this time the usually braver Jennifer was crying......Rachelle took the broom and whaled the living snot out of the spider. When she finally finished swinging, Jennifer had actually gone from crying to laughing hysterically. The sight of her benefactor viciously swinging her weapon was really too much.

Disaster struck again: It was discovered that the spider had gone missing. It was not on the floor or in the broom (although this was observed from about ten feet away, so one could not be totally sure). Jennifer was unsure whether or not it was actually dead or...hiding....and this proved to be the straw that broke the camel's back.

Rachelle and Jennifer stayed that night at their parents.

This is the end of the story. Certainly not the end of *their* story. The question begs to be asked: If this gene mutates yet again, what will their offspring be like?

Note from the author: This account is factual. Anything resembling known persons is *purely coincidental*.

All In A Day

I was awoken early this morning by my happy son, jumping on my bed, trying to shake me awake.

"Mom! Mom! Why won't you and Hannah wake up?"

My befuddled brain thought: "You won't be so chipper when you realize you are going to the dentist today for a filling. I won't rain on your parade yet, however, sonny-boy." It's amazing that sarcasm can come so naturally even when my brain is so tired.

Off to the dentist. I thought he needed one teensy filling, but he needed two. Both were very small, but still required anesthetic. I tell ya, when you find a good dentist, one who knows how to handle kids, hang on to him. He had that needle in and out so slick, Seth chatting up a storm the whole time. The only thing Seth refused to cooperate with was having a rubber-dam. I don't like rubber-dams, so I totally sympathized. Tears filled his eyes and he started to panic and cry. Fortunately, they were very patient and removed it (even though it makes their job much easier using the rubber-dam) and did the fillings quick-as-you-please without it, all the while making Seth feel like a million bucks.

He did deserve it. He was totally awesome today. His parade wasn't rained-on after all.

So, because he was so amazing, his dad and I asked him what he would want the most as a reward.

"Smarties," he said.

I explained (hopefully) that it did not have to be candy. It could be a toy. It could be anything (pretty much).

"Smarties," he repeated.

Even though too much sugar and inadequate brushing (although I am stumped about that one because I have been VERY diligent with brushing) is why he needed fillings in the first place, how could I deny him his one request?

So, tonight we went for Smarties. Him and I. Since it was a gorgeous evening, and I needed exercise, I told him we would walk. He walked his little legs off. Twenty blocks, round trip.

When he got home, he ate smarties, talked, read library books, talked some more, rode his bike, talking the whole time. We ended the evening looking up answers to his questions (since I am trying to take them more serious like a good mommy should).

What do giraffe's bones look like? VERY BIG. Saw some interesting pictures.

Do elephants lie down to play dead? Yep. Even though they sleep lying down AND standing up, it stands to reason that since they would be lying down if they were REALLY dead, that if they were playing dead they would have to lie down, right? Sound logic.

Do bees have a heart? (newest question) Yep, although it looks like the large intestine of a human.

And tonight in bed: Can skeletons lie on their side? Again, yep. Sure. If a person dies that way, why not?

The last two questions are definitely worthy of Chapters 3 and 4 of "The Book". At the current rate of his questions (several a day), I will need enough material to fill A THOUSAND chapters.........

All About My Girl

The day started in the wee hours of the morning at 8:15 a.m. My husband, who had been up for hours (he has formed this terrible habit in his old age of rising VERY early), came to awaken me. Barely able to focus (because I've formed another terrible habit of going to bed VERY late), he told me that Seth had requested some special time with just his dad. So, since I had been trying to schedule a mother/daughter outing anyway, he suggested that we split up and he have a father/son day at the same time.

Even in my slightly half-wit state, I was very happy that my mama's-boy-son made this request. He loves doing things with his dad, but he has never requested having some time just with him. Away from his mom. And so we planned our day.

Once again, I had a superb day with my girl. Besides going for lunch, we went to her favourite store, Michaels, with the intent of picking out another silk flower, which she just happens to love.

It is becoming more apparent that my girl is very indecisive. She took a half hour just in one aisle of the store, staring at the silk flowers on sale, going back and forth trying to make little bouquets, not being able to decide which ones she liked. She finally told me she wanted me to pick them out.

"What if you don't like my choice?" I asked her.

"I don't care. I want you to pick them out because I just can't," she replied. "And, I know that once I pick out one flower and it's paid for, I will regret not picking the other."

Such is her logic. In fact, she does this all the time in a store, in whatever she buys. She quite often picks out what she doesn't want because she "just knows that she will regret buying what she wants".

????????

She has such endearing quirks. Tonight at prayer meeting, she whispered to me that after prayer meeting, before we left, that she wanted to talk to me. ALONE. Alone to Hannah doesn't mean finding a corner of the sanctuary and whispering. It means setting out on an excursion where there is nobody else and no chance of there being anyone else. We thought we found such a place, but someone came in and dared to turn on the light and ruin it. So we ended up going outside, away from the church.

So she could tell me her secret. In private.

And I will 'fess-up to all here and now. Her secret was VERY GOOD. Maybe some day soon I can share it with y'all. With her permission, of course.

No Song And Dance

I've said before that I believe that most of the stories I will have to tell about my son will be about things that happen in church. Well, if that is true, then the second most frequent stories I have to tell are about his tremendous fear of.....BUGS. While driving. In the car.

This time he wasn't singing...yet. He saw the GInormous beast on the roof in the back seat. His brave sister did her best to kill the monster, but missed. I asked her where the offensive critter was.

First mistake.

She told me.

Second mistake.

"It's ON Seth," she answered, without thought.

And the end of the world came. Shrieks and screams. Fits of terror. I pulled the car over, I must confess that I was going to tie him to his booster seat and duct tape his mouth FULLY EXASPERATED, and opened his door.

If you have ever wondered if it was possible for a kid to wiggle out of their seatbelt, I have full evidence that IT IS. Seth was at an angle that put him partially out of his seatbelt.

I never did find the bug, but I checked and reassured my son that it was gone. His sister, trying to make up for her earlier mistake, told him that it "must have flown out when mom opened the door". He believed her. His big sister knows pretty much everything, after all.

I end with one last thing: This incidence sure weren't no song and dance.

Just Thoughts.....

It's 9:30 p.m. My worn out husband has gone to bed even before the kids. My daughter is writing in her journal. My son has been kissed, cuddled and prayed for.

So I'm writing.

As my daughter gets older, I realize I have to be much more careful about what I write about her (thus the lack of blog posts about her in comparison to my son). Even though she is only 8, she really is quite mature and VERY sensitive. I find myself in tug-of-wars with her will about things that I am not prepared to battle yet. She tells me she "feels grown up" all the time (which proves, of course, how not-grown-up she really is - which may seem contradictory to my initial statement about her being quite mature for her age....but really isn't), so even though I am loosening the strings significantly, it is not fast enough to suit my daughter.

{Big Sigh}

Tonight my son told me that we needed to buy a "barrier".

"A what?" I asked.

"A barrier," he told me.

"What in the world is a barrier?" I asked him.

"You know," he said, "it's one of those things that you need to bury people with. So that when one of us dies in our family we can bury them."

How comforting......

I honestly don't know where he comes up with these things.

I find that he asks many of his questions while he's eating, likely because we are trying to get him to stop talking while he's eating - since it's pretty much constant chatter and he takes forever to eat - so when he's not yapping, his little mind is going a mile a minute.

"What do giraffe's bones look like?" he also asked. And: "Why do officers like donuts so much?" (to which I almost choked. Honestly, his dad and I have not made any jokes lately about the police frequenting Tim's or anything....) He comes up with these so out of the blue, that's what makes them so hysterical. And, he'll ask several questions in a row, all about completely different things.

School starts in a couple of weeks and I feel totally unprepared mentally right now.

This is one of those "rambling" posts that I don't have a brilliant ending for. Just my thoughts cuz I was in the mood to write. So good night.

Question Of The Day

My son's question this morning, while eating breakfast:

"Do elephants lie down when they pretend to play dead?"

So, do they I ask?

Definitely will be the title of one of the chapters of their book of life.

Not Wired

My son yelled at me, quite frantically this morning:

"MOM, COME! MOM! THERE IS SOMETHING WRONG WITH THIS PLUG. IT DOESN'T WORK AT ALL WHEN I PLUG IT IN!"

I quickly discovered the problem:

He was trying to plug in this white plug protector and wondered why nothing "lit up".

I'm thinkin' the chances are slim that he will be an electrician when he grows up.

Perhaps he'll stick to his carpentry work and tender for that electrician when the time comes.

Whatcha think?

Of Bugs And Praise

Have I said lately that my son hates bugs? I mean the loathe-kind of hate. He freaks out over everything with the exception of butterflies, but truthfully, I'm sure if a butterfly swooped down near him and caught him off guard that he'd freak over it as well. And it's because of his dislike of bugs that I'm telling my story.

The setting: Our car on the way to church Sunday morning.

Seth is sitting in his seat, just building up to a rousing rendition of Send Up Judah, which was the current song playing.

"Send up Judah, send up Judah, send up........DAD!!! THERE'S A MOSQUITO LOOSE IN THE CAR!!!!!" And all through his shrieks, the song keeps on playing.

And he keeps screaming AND singing.....back and forth.

"DAD!!! KILL IT!!!........For everything He has done, for every victory He has won.......DAD!!! I SAID THERE IS A MOSQUITO!!!!!......Lift it up, lift it up, lift it......AHHH!!! THE MOSQUITO IS ON MY WINDOW DAD!!! GET IT DAD!!! Let everything that has breath praise the......IT'S GONNA GET ME!!! KILL IT, DAD!!!! Praise Him, praise Him......."

I was trying in vain to maintain control in the front seat. Spasms of laughter were trying to burst forth. Dad, on the other hand, was unmoved. Bugs loose in the car and his son's wails are a regular occurrence, after all. For me, it was the combination of wails and singing that got me going.

Then all of the sudden there was a big "thud" against the window.

"There, dad. I threw my Bible at the window and I think I killed it. Yup. For everything He has done, every victory He has won, send up.....AHHH! IT'S STILL MOVING, DAD!"

That was too much for me and I could not suppress it anymore. Dad was still NOT amused. I realize that throwing your hard cover children's Bible at the window is really not a good idea and could cause damage, but it is was still really just too much for me.

The story ends with the mosquito NOT dead. With dad unamused. With me finding it all totally hilarious.

And with my son sending up praise while the crippled mosquito hid for dear life.