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The child that has been so shy that he can not look a person in the eye and answer a question has found his words. And left me without mine. The other day he told me they were discussing passions in Sunday School. How we should have a passion for pursuing Christ and telling others about Him. The leaders asked the children to tell what their parents’ passions were. My son waved his hand in the air and told them “My mom’s passions are Facebook, Facebook, Facebook, and cooking.” And then… Today while at the doctor’s office our pediatrician was asking if I was still homeschooling and how it was going. We chit-chatted all friendly-like and out of curiosity asked me if we were taking some time off or if we were working through the summer. I explained we year-round because of the pregnancies and new babies. And I reminded her just how ill I was with the last pregnancy and took quite a bit of time off and that we were catching up now. When my son interjected with, “Yeah, we didn’t do any schoolwork for a year. All mom did was lay on the couch.” And speaking of not being able to speak. Or wishing others wouldn’t… I was in town the other day for an appointment. The well-dressed, well-spoken woman at the front desk was commenting on how many children we had, were they all ours, and then said, “Oh, just look at all of them, and they all look healthy. That’s good.” The person smiling sheepishly and shrugging? That would be me. We finished reading Ecclesiastes the other day to the kiddos (the first thing I had ever read of the Bible when I was in high school and still one of my favorite books – I’m all about being real and Solomon certainly gets real “Everything’s pointless.” I love it!) It has provided much discussion for days. Yesterday on the way home from town my five year old daughter said, “I know you can’t take anything with you when you go to heaven, but if you could take just one thing, Mama, what would it be?” After a minute’s thought I said, “I guess my wedding ring Daddy gave me.” To which she replied, “I’d take the van.” I giggled and asked why. “‘Cause then we could all go to heaven together at one time.” Her seven year old brother quickly corrected her, “Oh, no, you wouldn’t need the van to get to heaven.” And she asked, “Then how would be get there? Would Jesus just fly us up on His back?” Ah, the logic of little ones – you gotta love it! The other night at dinner-prepping-flip-out time around our house I think I may have gritted my teeth. More than once. The oldest tried telling the others to give it a break. “Y’all, Mom’s going to be mad! Both kinds!” Oh, I’m crazy alright. While at church the other morning I made the seven year old share the last bite of muffin with the eight year old. The older child took a huge bite leaving a tiny sliver for his younger brother. I shot the not-nice look to my oldest and let him know that was rotten. His daddy said, “Do you know what you would’ve done if he had done that to you? You would’ve fallen down right here on the ground in a fit.” To which that child replied, “I would not. This ground is way too hard for that.” Last night while watching me settle the baby with his paci, the oldest observed, “Does the paci settle him like when he’s nursing.” I explained that yes, probably, that’s how it worked. With a far away look he mused, “Hmm, I kind of remember what having a paci feels like.” Silence, pause. “But I don’t think I remember what the bo.0b.y is like.” Nice. And, that ladies and gentleman, is why I am mad. Like the hatter. While TheOldest was doing his Spanish schoolwork the other morning ThePrincess chimed in with correct words and meanings. TheOldest looked up and said, “She’s going to be in high school by the time she’s 8 if she keeps learning like this.” While TheMiddlest and TheOldest were playing Lego Star Wars on their DSes the other day TheOldest said, “Emperor Palpatine is evil.” To which TheMiddlest replied, “Yeah, but a cool evil.” While sitting around cooped up inside from the rain last week BigMan was banging on the floor with a play hammer loudly and repeatedly. When Matt could take it no more he looked over at him and said, “Is that necessary?” To which BigMan replied, “Nope, it’s a hammer.” The other morning while I was doing dishes Matt came in and asked me how happy I was. Let the games begin. “I’m pretty happy.” Met with, “On a scale of 1 – 10?” “One being and 10 being?” “One being a laparoscopy. Ten being Six Flags.” “No, Six Flags right now, postpartum with 5 little people is a nightmare, not a ten.” “Okay, ten being Disney World.” (Like somehow Disney World postpartum is better than Six Flags – it all makes sense in my world.) ”Hmm.. I’d say I’m an eight.” “You’re 2 steps away from Disney World right now? That’s why I like you, Little Woman, doing dishes and taking care of kids and you’re 2 steps away from Disney World.” While eating dinner last night, I looked over and MyPrincess was eating butter. Straight. I just shook my head and commented about how gross that was. She laughed. Matt said, “That’s the kind of thing when she’s grown that her husband and kids will say, ‘They let you eat butter? No wonder you ____________(fill in the blank).’” And then he started suggesting things her future family will fill in the blank – you know, future neuroses – such as “No wonder you gained 40 pounds when you went off to college” or better yet “No wonder you lost 40 pounds when you went off to college”, “No wonder you’re so crazy”, and then they turned to the truly ridiculous “No wonder you only sleep on the floor”, and other such giggle-inducing fodder. Good luck, future husband. That’s all I can give you. Good luck. |
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