December 29th, 2007
we were watching a travel show about italy this morning and they showed the last supper. we were talking to the kiddos about it and i explained that we don’t really know what Jesus looks like. n said, “did He wear white clothes like in all the pictures?” i told him that probably not, he lived in a time and place that did not lend itself to white clothes, but i talked to him about art and how they used white to show pure and perfect stuff. and since Jesus was both of those, the artists used white to show that about Him. my 4 year old asked if the Bible told us what He looked like. i told him that we only know that we’re told that He wasn’t very handsome.
to which he replied, “the Bible is God’s, but He lets us use it.”
December 27th, 2007
i’m a girl. whatd’ya know? i’ve never been fond of pink. i’ve never worn much nail polish or jewelry. less is more. i didn’t need all the frills.
and then i had children. this is not a side effect that i had banked on. lots of others, sure, but turning into a girly-girl? not one of them. and now i’m growing my hair out. opting for the pink and flowery when picking out anything. the more glitter the better. sparkly? why, yes. jewelry? yes. what brings this about? you ask?
because when i walk out with something pink on and one of my children says, “oh, you’re so pretty mama” i walk a little straighter. and when i wear perfume and they all swoon i feel a little daintier. and when i wear makeup and i hear, “you yook just yike a princess, mama” then i look for my tiara. because deep down who doesn’t want to be a princess?
December 26th, 2007
(originally published December 26, 2007)
i hate playdough that gets rubbed into couches and dries and crumbles and finds its way into my infant’s mouth.
i hate markers that make their way onto everything.
i hate lego sets. that i work for 2 hours with each boy-child to perfectly build and then watch it collapse in a matter of seconds and then listen as my 4 year old mourns its loss for the duration of the day.
i hate gak. it’s foreign. it’s kinda wet. it freaks me out. and it, also, finds it’s way into my infant’s mouth.
i hate chex mix in the hands of distracted youngsters. and they’re always distracted.
i hate when loss of routine and lack of sleep combines with sugar. in my children too.
i hate when my husband says within 10 minutes of waking, “if this is the right side of the bed, i bet you woke up on the left.”
and i hate that it was true. bah. bah, i say.
December 25th, 2007
conversations with 2 boys while staying up all night to see that mythical clown:
“what’s a clatter?”
“what was that outside the window?!”
“it was either daddy or a huge elf.”
“if i hear a clatter i’m going to run to the living room.”
“i don’t think we should be spying on santa.”
“why?”
“because it just might put us on the naughty list. and i really don’t want to be on the naughty list.”
“can i just go to sleep now?”
and said at 5am this morning within 2 seconds of waking….
“are we still spying on santa? because if we are, i’m too scared and my legs are too tired to go out there and check.”
December 24th, 2007
another perfect christmas pose
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