How Do You Get to Heaven?

If you just turned two, apparently, all you need is a good push on the swing. Little Sissy talks A LOT, but I still have trouble understanding some of what she says. Today as I was pushing her on the swing, she kept saying, "Up, up, up high to Jea 'n Gah." When I would finally get her high enough to her liking, she would lean back her head, close her eyes, and breathe in the sunshine. It took me several turns to understand what she was saying. "Did you say you want to go up high to Jesus and God?"

*Smile.* "Yeah."

I love the sweet innocence. If you were looking for a real answer on how to get to heaven, I would be happy to post about that too. It's really about that easy. Simple belief. Childlike faith.

Indian Summer

Despite all the runny noses, I finally agreed to take the children outside to play yesterday. I couldn't believe how warm it was! Unfortunately, Big Sissy was inside refusing to eat her lunch. Don't ask...

Drama, Drama, Drama

I don't know how my boy will be, but my girls are already so dramatic. I'm trying to plan a birthday party for Big Sissy, who will be 4 in a couple of weeks. I'm totally intimidated by decorating cakes, so I asked her today if she would be sad if we just had cupcakes instead. We would have ice cream with sprinkles, of course--just no cake. I guess sad was the wrong word to use because she totally jumped on it.


"Yes, Mommy, I would be really sad about that. We HAVE to have a cake AND cupcakes AND ice cream."

Then Little Sissy joined in. "I sad too, Mommy."

"What are you sad about?"

(Really starting to cry) "Cake, Mommy. I sad. Hold me, Mommy. Hold me."


The next thing I know both girls are crying and wanting to be held, which makes Little Buddy start to cry. He doesn't even know what cake is yet. And another skit in my head is born.

I Still Love You

There are many good people who disagree about appropriate discipline methods. Whichever you choose, though, I believe it should always be followed up with with lots of hugs and words of affirmation. Sometimes I'm pretty sure I forget to do that. I get in my "matter of fact" mode, the toy is taken away (or whatever has just happened), and that is that. In my less-than-great parenting days, it is followed up with something lame like, "Maybe next time you'll remember not to smash the play dough into the carpet." On a better day, it is followed up with something like, "I know you're sad that I just threw away the play dough. Do you know why I did that? What can you do differently next time? Do you know I still love you? We can try again tomorrow." I use this example because it happened today. And it was not my greatest parenting day. I threw away the play dough (which was brown from having 4 colors mixed together--the shade that is now all over the floor and the kitchen chair cushions) without saying anything but "We are all done." Big Sissy cried for a few minutes, then she said, "I'm sad that you threw my play dough away, Mommy, but I still love you." It made me smile in the middle of a messy parenting moment and was a great reminder of how important those words of affirmation are.

You Want Me to Put My Knees Where?

Apparently this is my year for getting out of my comfort zone. I have already mentioned that I need a lot of stimulation, plus I really need exercise, plus I'm a sucker for free stuff. So I heard about a free Piloga class (mix of Pilates and Yoga) at the church where I go to M.O.P.S., which is different from the church where Big Sissy goes to choir and I go to a Bible Study, which is different still from the church where I actually attend. I went expecting to feel like the awkard girl on a SNL skit. Some people view the world in photographs; others in paintings. I see the world as a series of satirical SNL skits. It's weird because I have never even been in a play, but I think I write them in my head. This one I was in. I was the girl who tripped over my mat before the class even got started and started a domino ripple of ladies in front of me when I tried to stand on one foot.

Luckily, none of this happened. I was late (of course), because I put Little Buddy to bed before I went and had to give multiple kisses and hugs to the girls before I could leave. Apparently I missed the part where she explained what in the world was going on. Because here's what I heard next (imagine an auctioneer's pace of instructions). Stretch up to the ceiling. Touch your abs to your back. The string is pulling your head up to the ceiling. Make a smiley face with your back while you exhale. Get your hips higher but don't you dare bend your knees. Crack the walnut with your butt. Keep breathing. Down dog. (This is a real thing) Jump to the back of your mat. Reach for the cheesecake. Your toes should be shaking. If you fall down, you went too far.

It felt like the day of my senior portrait, where the photographer had something specific in mind but I had to contort my body in very unnatural ways to get the look he was going for. But don't forget to smile and breathe and look natural. I felt like a total idiot, but I'm sore, so apparently I did something. The only bad thing is that my tailbone feels like perhaps I really did crack a few walnuts. Did I mention it's free? If anyone wants to join me next week, I'd love the company. You just won't be allowed to stand behind me and watch me pretend there's a thumbtack in my bellybutton and I am one with the floor.

Candy Harvesting

The first part of this video makes me laugh because I grew up in an environment where celebrating Halloween was very controversial. In our family we don't dwell on the scary aspects and certainly don't celebrate evil, but we DEFINITELY like getting dressed up in costumes and "candy harvesting." I felt like I was crossing a line this weekend when I bought Little Sissy a t-shirt with a black cat on it, but it was only $1 at Old Navy. And how evil can a 2-year-old in a black cat shirt be? I mean, she really likes kitties. Little Buddy's onesie says "Snack-o-lantern." Very cute.

I could add to the list of acceptable harvest costumes that I've worn. For example, it certainly has to be OK to dress up as any of the Ingalls girls (from Little House on the Prairie), especially if you collect candy in a tin lunch bucket. Now if you choose to dress up as Nellie, you might be crossing the line. She was kind of evil. Stay tuned for some pictures of our adorable little candy harvesters in their non-scary, non-evil "fall costumes."

Fall Concert

Last night was Big Sissy's fall "concert" for her 3-year-old choir. I was so emotional as she walked up the aisle with her class. She seemed so big! Here is one of their songs. Big Sissy is the blonde curly girl in the middle, next to Mr. Charisma and behind the girl in the pink who needed to go potty at the end. She didn't sing much. I think she was a bit distracted by the 2 screamers. Some of my IL readers might recognize the lady on the left behind the children. You'll see a couple of glimpses of her. Her name is Laura something, and she graduated from Roxana with Trish and Lisa. I knew her name immediately when I saw her, but I still don't know where we actually met. Small world.

Crawling Boot Camp

Since Little Buddy is our last child (biological child, at least), I'm not really in a hurry for him to grow up. He's very happy and content, and definitely not in a hurry to do anything. I love that he is so pleasant, but I have to admit that sometimes I give him "crawling lessons." I guess Little Sissy is eager for him to do it, too. Here's her crawling boot camp. I had to stop the video to save him from his drill sergeant. Translation for those who can't understand her (most of you): "I want to help him. Crawl with your hands, then you crawl with your feet, then you crawl, crawl, crawl."

Easy Costume Ideas--No Sewing Required

A few years ago a group of teenagers came to my house "trick or treating." They were all wearing their street clothes. Come on. If you want candy, at least come up with a costume. In this same neighborhood (probably the same kids), a group came to my house at Christmastime "caroling" to raise money for the school. About 5 minutes later I saw them buying candy and soda at the convenience store down the street. Rude...

Anyway, the costume doesn't have to be fancy. We came up with a few just this morning. Here are some ideas.

Humpty Dumpty
Equipment Needed: One very healthy baby, a onesie that's too small, and baby "mom jeans"
Still Needed: A beanie and a very large belt buckle

A Knight
Equipment Needed: Balloons from the very talented balloon artist at Pizza Street. (Seriously, he's really good. You should see his little mermaid.)

A Popsicle
Equipment Needed: Upside down tote bag, pajama pants, a really good imagination, and probably a seeing eye dog to lead you around

Sad Purple Dog
Equipment Needed: Pajama shirt and a pouty 2-year-old

Virgin Mary
Equipment Needed: Pajama shirt
Equipment Still Needed: Something virginal to cover her nakedness

My Little Pumpkin

I don't really have a comment about this, except this: Isn't he a doll? In other news, Little Sissy went potty on her potty chair for the first time ever tonight. Yeah!!!! We're not really training her yet, except for several months we've been putting her on the potty chair before bath. Tonight is the first time anything actually happened. I yelled so loud I almost made her cry, but I just had visions of only one in diapers, and I got REALLY excited!

This is So Hot!

Yes, that's a vacuum in his hand. Good lovin' starts with love and respect, but it sure doesn't hurt to vacuum the house--in a white t-shirt and jeans. Just a tip, guys...

Harmony Bear Gets a Night Out

Big Sissy's preschool choir has a little mascot named Harmony Bear. All the 3-year-olds get to have a turn taking him home for a week. He comes with a fun CD, scarf to dance with, and rhythm sticks. They are supposed to draw a picture of him, write down some things they did together (I assume the parent is supposed to do that part), and take pictures of some of the things Harmony Bear got to do during his visit. We took Harmony Bear with us to the Magic House tonight. Thankfully he still made it home. We lost Mayzi somewhere along the way. This is supposed to be April's replacement. *sigh.* We also met up with some fun friends there. Maybe I'll do another post with the real children. For now, here's Harmony Bear's night with the Brimms.

Shopping in the grocery store

Having a pancake in the kitchen

Splashing in the water area

Going down the slide

Eating in the pizza parlor

The All-Purpose Dress

Has anyone seen the recent pictures of Angelina Jolie on the tabloids? OK. Stop rolling your eyes. I know I'm not the only one that flips through US and People while I'm waiting in line at the grocery store. She looks amazing...11 weeks after delivering TWINS. First of all, it probably helps to be extremely underweight before you get pregnant (not that I'm recommending that, of course). A little extra flesh just looks much better on her. When asked what her secret is, she said, "It helps to have a good dress." OOOHHHHH!!!! Why didn't anyone tell me this before??? I've been wasting my time in sweatpants all this time when I could look like THAT in the right dress. It helps to have good accessories too. I'm talking about her shoes, of course--not her famous "partner." All I know is, I gotta get me one of those dresses.

The Family is Together Again!

Hubby has been gone on a business trip since Monday. That's not a long time, but man...we sure missed him. Here are some things that are hard about when he's gone...everything. I always look forward to relief around 5'ish so I can get supper ready. We have great teamwork in the evenings. I give Little Buddy a bath, then I get him ready for bed while Hubby is getting the girls bathed. Then I clean up the kitchen while Hubby is getting their snacks and movie ready. Then I read them each a story, Daddy reads the Bible, we all pray together and the day is done. On Wednesday nights I take Big Sissy to choir and go to a Bible study while Daddy stays home with the little ones. This week no one got to bed on time, I had to skip my Bible study, I'm pretty sure we didn't read the Bible every night, and I'm still in my pajamas now at 1:30 in the afternoon.

Here's what I like when he's gone. I sleep so much better. I know...that sounds crazy. I always hear women say they can't sleep when they're husband is gone. I don't know why. I don't really get scared to be alone, and I LOVE having the bed all to myself. My favorite way to sleep is diagonally in the bed. And I don't have to listen to snoring all night. Heavenly. But if I had to choose, I would still opt for less sleep and my hubby by my side. I'm so glad this trip is over. I'm singing the Dora theme song...We did it...we did it...lo hicimos...we did it. Welcome home!!!!

Nickname

Some people call him Jesus, and some people call him God. I guess one is His nickname.

Guess who...

A Needle in a Haystack

Sunday night we went to a "Fall Fest" at my sister's church in South County. It was lots of fun, and we were everywhere--riding ponies, eating funnel cake, looking inside a firetruck, changing diapers in the nursery (that's not really the fun part), riding tricycles on the parking lot, watching fireworks. It wasn't until the way home that I realized the diamond was missing out of my wedding ring. Part of the frustration was that I just had the prongs fixed at the end of May. I hadn't worn it for the end of my pregnancy, and when I put it back on it seemed a little wiggly. Hubby got it fixed for me, and I haven't taken it off since. It hasn't even been 4 months!!! We both were silent on the way home. I was on the brink of tears--trying not to put too much weight in material possessions and yet feeling very sentimental about my wedding ring. It's probably the first big purchase my husband ever made, and it was for me. He suggested we go back and look for it, and I didn't want to. It was dark. There were probably a thousand people there. We had been so many different places. It would be like trying to find a needle in a haystack.

Today Hubby took the ring with him and stopped by the jeweler on his way out of town. He was going to see if some kind of warranty would cover the prong repair--or the diamond loss. It was closed. My mom was off work today and came over to help out with the kids (and make some yummy meals). That was such a HUGE help. While she was outside playing with the girls and Little Buddy was still gnawing on his baby biscuit, I started sweeping the floor. I noticed a pile of crumbs in the corner over by the stove and went over to sweep. One of the crumbs seemed a bit shiny, but not shiny enough to be a diamond. I wouldn't have even noticed it if I weren't thinking about my diamond all day. But I picked it up, turned it over, and sure enough. It was my diamond. I guess I lost it before we even went to the Fall Fest. I still can't believe I found a needle in a haystack. Apparently it IS possible!!!

In Memory of Regina

Big Sissy, as you know by now, has a LOT of questions. She is also very sensitive. She cried the first time she watched Beauty and the Beast because the Beast was sad when Belle ran away from the castle (even though his anger sent her away). She cried in Mulan because she thought the bad guy's bird might be sad when he was finally killed at the end.

Tonight we were talking about family relationships. She was asking me who my mommy and daddy are, who all my sisters are, who my brother is, etc. I knew it was coming but I didn't have time to think it through before she asked: "Daddy, who are your sisters?" For those who don't know, my husband had an older sister who was killed in a tragic bus accident in 1985. Her college's freshman class was taking a trip to Eureka Springs, AR, and the brakes went out in the bus, sending it down into a ravine. Four students and the bus driver were killed and 16 others were injured.

I didn't know Regina well. She was 6 years older than me, so at youth camp when I was 11, she would have been 17. I knew who she was, but that's a pretty big age gap when you're a teenager. I remember when it happened, though. I was spending the night with my grandma, and she came in and told us in the morning that there had been a terrible accident. (She went to church with my husband's family.) We all prayed together for the family, who is now my family.

Big Sissy is still asking questions about it, even hours later. I'm sure there will be more tomorrow.

"How come God didn't just take her to heaven before the accident happened?"
"Did the bus driver feel bad when he realized they were about to crash?"
"What did Aunt Regina say when she realized the bus was about to crash? Was she scared?"
"Were Aunt Regina's friends sad--the ones who didn't get dead?"

As usual, I don't have good answers to most of her questions. I just don't know. But one thing I'm sure of is that Aunt Regina loved Jesus and one day we will get to meet her in heaven. I'm mourning in a different way than those who knew her, of course. I wonder what it would be like to have another sister-in-law. Would she live close? Would she like me? How many more nieces and nephews would I have? Would we have things in common? Would she be a typical firstborn? I feel more emotional about it tonight than I have in a long time, just thinking through Big Sissy's questions. Of course I wish God would have spared her (and the scars it has left on my husband's family). I don't know why bad things happen, but I have to believe it is all part of His sovereign plan. Max Lucado has described God's plan as a tapestry. In this life what we see is a tangled mess--knots and mixed up threads. It doesn't make sense to us. But what God sees is a picture where all the pieces fit together and the result is beautiful. Someday we will get to see that side of the picture. For now we long for heaven--where there is no more death, disease, or sadness. And we wait to see the other side of the tapestry.

If I Could Be Any Animal...

Did you ever play those games with the pre-fabricated questions to help you get to know someone? My friend JoAnna loved those games when we were in high school. The main one I remember was, "If you could be any animal, what would you be?" I've had about 20 years to be thinking about this, but my answer has been the same for several years. I would most definitely be a penguin. We went to the zoo today, and we spent most of our time watching them play.

Here are my reasons why I would be a penguin.

1. They get to play in the snow all day and never get cold.

2. They always seem to be having fun swimming.

3. They're a little plump, and they're supposed to be.

4. The male takes care of the babies through the gestational period

(I learned this from Happy Feet).

5. They're just so stinkin' cute!

Puddle Splashers

My girls love it when it rains so they can wear all of their plastic git-up. They especially love their boots, but we call them puddle splashers at our house. After all, why else would you wear rain boots? Notice Big Sissy's "winter collar" again.

White Chili Recipe

It's worth the wait, I promise.

Lewis and Clark's White Chili

3 pounds cooked Great Northern Beans, canned or bottled
2 pounds boneless chicken breast (skin removed)
1 tablespoon olive oil
4 garlic cloves, minced
2 medium onions, chopped
2 teaspoons ground cumin
1/4 teaspoon ground cloves
1/4 teaspoon cayenne pepper
1 teaspoon ground oregano
2 4-ounce cans of chopped mild green chilies
4 cups chicken stock or canned broth
20 ounces Monterey Jack cheese, grated
sour cream
chopped jalapeno peppers, canned

Place chicken in large sauce pan. Add cold water to cover and bring to simmer. Cook until tender, approximately 15-20 minutes. Remove from sauce pan and dice into 1/2" cubes.

Using the same pan discard water and heat oil over medium heat. Add onions until translucent. Stir in garlic, chilies, cumin, cayenne pepper, oregano, and cloves. Saute for 2-3 minutes. Add chicken, beans, stock, and 12 oz. cheese, let simmer for 15 minutes. Ladle into large bowls and top with 1 oz. cheese. Serve with a side of sour cream and chopped jalapeno peppers.

Random Pictures

This is our beautiful oak table where the kids eat snacks and do art. Notice the marks all over it. Luckily I haven't stained it yet, so I think it will still be beautiful later. Note also the "winter collar" Big Sissy is wearing. It's a stacking ring from one of the baby's toys. She's decided she needs to wear it all the time to keep warm (It's 80 degrees outside today).

This was the "school work" yesterday. She practiced cutting out shapes that I drew and glued them onto the other paper. She also wrote her name by herself. She did really well except the "r" looked like a "G." I'm a proud mommy.

This is my white chili pot after soaking all night and one round of scrubbing. Tonight we're having tuna--you know, the kind that comes in a can and is already chopped up. Then you add mayo and relish (they come in jars) and call it "salad." At least I can say I had salad today. :)

A Day in Our Life

It was not a bad day. It was just a day. And I'm not posting this to complain in any way. I just want to remember what life was like when our kids were 8 months, 2, and 3. The first problem was that the whole day centered around white chili, really. I've been waiting for it to be fall so I could make it. Since I'm now an Aldi's shopper, I couldn't get the beans in a can or a jar. I had to buy them very bean-like. So I followed the directions and soaked them all night. This morning I turned them on to let them simmer for an hour and a half like the directions said. After an hour an a half they still had teeth-breaking qualities. Another hour. Still pretty hard. Another half hour. Good enough. For those of you not used to buying beans the old fashioned way, there's a LOT more of them after you put them in water apparently. I think they sneak in there and have little beany babies. So now I have enough slightly crunchy beans for at least 2 pots of chili. I'm good with that.

Meanwhile...I had to run downstairs for something (probably check my email) so I put a pillow behind Little Buddy. He sits up really well, but occasionally he gets really excited and flaps his arms so hard it makes him fall over. Don't make fun. He's a baby. So I put a pillow behind him just in case. Literally minutes later I heard a thud and then a loud cry. I run upstairs while Big Sissy is giving me the running commentary..."Mommy, the baby fell down and now he's crying." Ummm...I know. I go in there to find Little Buddy flat on his back, screaming his head off while Little Sissy has all her Little People lined up on the pillow for a nap. I tell her no no, that we need to always leave the pillow behind the baby so he doesn't fall down.

I go back to my bean checking, and the next thing I know Big Sissy is yelling, "Stop writing on me!" I go to the "art station" (I'll post a picture of this sometime. It's a beautifully hand-crafted wooden table my parents got for the girls. It is now COVERED with marker, crayon, and random other stain marks. ) Big Sissy, who is already wearing her sister's clothes because I packed away her summer clothes already, has marker from her neck to her waist. I hurry and tear her shirt off to try to get the marker out before it stains, get her a paint shirt (I'm running out of clothes), and go back to the beans.

The beans are good enough. I only have one soup pot, so I find containers for the beans and all of their offspring, wash the pot, and put the chicken in to start cooking. Now I have to find something for us to eat for lunch. Little Sissy wants macaroni and hot dog, Big Sissy wants grilled cheese and soup, and Little Buddy wants Mommy. Thankfully we have leftover macaroni, and hot dogs are easy enough. Done. I convince Big Sissy to wait on the soup since we're having yummy white chili for supper and just eat sliced apples with her grilled cheese. We compromise with applesauce. I give Little Buddy some..umm...me. By now I'm starving but I need to check on the chicken. I grab a fork, poke it in the chicken, and find that it is not done. This becomes important later in the story. I start clearing away some of the dishes while I microwave leftover taco salad for me. By the time the bell dings, I grab it, quickly pour myself some sweet tea, and take the fork that I've already gotten out and put on the "clean side" of the counter.

Finally! Lunch! I'm all done eating before I realize that I just ate my whole lunch with the fork I used to check the chicken (which, as you remember, was NOT done). OK. Add botulism to the things I need to talk to the doctor about if I ever make an appointment. I give the kids some playtime while I wash the chicken-ey food processor out so I can use it again for the onion (Remember, I'm working on white chili today). While I'm doing this, Little Sissy apparently feels crowded by the baby and pushes him down. Repeat earlier scenario. Big thud. Baby screaming. Running commentary in case I can't hear him. But this time add a spanking and a LONG and somewhat loud discourse on being careful with the baby.

Thank God it's naptime. I read Little Sissy a story while the girls argue about which one gets my "whole lap." This is a big thing lately. They're no longer happy with one on the left, one on the right. When the baby gets bigger I don't know how I'll do it. So I finally get Little Sissy in bed, do "schoolwork" with Big Sissy and a game of Candyland, get her in bed, feed the baby again, get him in bed. Whew!!!!

Can't wait for my white chili!

This is the good part. Rest for me. I read a book. I check my email. I think I even doze off a little. After about an hour of rest the baby wakes up, then Little Sissy wakes up. I go in to get Big Sissy up and realize she has had an accident. We now have about 30 minutes to get dinner finished, give her a bath, and get out the door for her choir. We don't have time to eat dinner. That's OK. I'll get some white chili when I get home...yummm...

We finally get home around 8. My sweet hubby puts the pot back on the stove while I'm feeding the baby (again) and getting him ready for bed. The next thing I know the house is full of smoke and he is asking me if I turned the burner up. Ummm...nope. I've been attached to a baby. The whole pot is ruined. The slightly-crunchy-already beans are black. The chili tastes like asphalt. I eat peanut butter and graham crackers for supper and get the girls to bed. The day is over. I'm surprisingly still in a good mood. Good thing I still have all the beany babies. We'll try again tomorrow.

Can We Still Be Friends?

It seemed perfect at first. He was consistent and stable. I always knew what to expect. He knew what I wanted before I even asked. Sure, I gave more than I thought I would have to, but that's to be expected in this kind of relationship, right? I didn't even really notice how wafer-thin and dull he really was. He knew I would always be there.

But then I met someone new. He was a little spicy. He was sweet. He offered variety and loved kids. He didn't ask of me more than I could give. My heart was torn. I wasn't actually committed, right? There was no written agreement. No, it was all unspoken.

I need a change. It's true. I think I'm leaving Cecil Whitakers for Pizza Street. I feel a little guilty. I don't think he even knows I'm out the door. But Pizza Street is much cheaper and I don't have to eat cheese pizza every time OR pay extra for my salad. They have fresh, hot cinnamon rolls on the buffet. They ask if we have any special requests for the buffet when we walk in. The kids even get free ice cream. Sorry, Cecil. You deserve someone who wants exactly what you have to offer. Do you think we could still be friends? Maybe I could visit on an occasional Tuesday? It's not you. It's me...really.

Little Sissy Speaks

I'm always writing about funny thing Big Sissy says. Little Sissy, who just turned 2 last month, is also getting very verbal. Her personality is so different from Big Sissy's. Big Sissy is very intense. She thinks deeply. She fights hard. She has an idea of how things should go and works very hard to get it that way. Borderline OCD possibly, or maybe just a perfectionist. She can memorize things like crazy and wanted to learn her letters and numbers before she was 2. Little Sissy is also very feisty but in a much more playful way. She really wants to make people laugh and usually does so through her expressions. She could care less about letters and numbers, I'm afraid, but at least she's starting to take an interest in books. I'm excited that I get to start posting funny things she says and does now.

Tonight she wanted a snack. This is not unusual; in fact, the girls think it's punishment to go to bed without one. I offered her bananas, grapes, or strawberries. Since strawberries give her a diaper rash (yes, both of my girls have dietary issues), I suggested maybe grapes with one strawberry. She said, "No, I don't want one. I want too many." I'm not sure if she means two??? Anyway, once we got started she ended up with a whole fruit salad--too many of everything. After that she came to me with her bowl.

"I still hungee."

"You're still hungry? OK. I guess you could have....hmmm..."I'm mentally thinking through the food groups and trying to come up with a snack that would make up for any nutritional deficiencies through the day.

Little Sissy, impatient and very "hungee" finally said, "OK. I'll take some hummmm right here in this bowl."

Oh my goodness. She cracks me up.

On a side note, I'm still really tired. I'm thinking it's mostly this cough that keeps me up all night. But I'm feeling less guilty about needing a break. I read a book recently called "Passionate Housewives Desperate for God," which was highly recommended by many sources. I have to be honest. I didn't really like it. I felt beaten down that I am not sure I want to homeschool and I'm totally OK serving my family frozen pizza sometimes. The book gave me the impression that it's selfish to need "me time." I started believing that, but I was reminded by some wise people on Sunday that even Jesus needed time alone. Since he is without sin, apparently that's not selfish. Even in his ministry, there were times that he healed some but did not heal all. Everyone needs a break sometimes. OK. That's all. I feel justified. Now I just need a babysitter.

Bring the Rain

I've already emailed many of you about this. When I find something I love, I'm passionate about it. My thing this week is a blog my sister found somehow. I LOVE it. It has taken me since Thursday to get through the whole thing (it started in January). That's partly because I don't have a lot of reading time, but mostly because I have to stop and cry sometimes. The writer is named Angie Smith, and she's the wife of one of the singers in the Christian group Selah. She is an amazing writer who didn't really know she was a good writer until she experienced a tragedy in her family. If you have experienced loss or disappointment with God or just need a good cry, check out her site. I'm not the only one who loves it. A recent post had over 2200 comments! Happy reading!

A sucker, a snorer, and a hacker

Our kids are really good about sleeping in their own beds and sleeping through the night...until recently. Lately it's as though darkness doesn't matter and internal clocks are broken. Big Sissy gets up randomly because it's too dark in her room. Little Buddy is suddenly missing mommy at 3 a.m. Last night was Little Sissy's turn. She just wanted to be held at 1 a.m. I let her climb into our bed because, frankly, I didn't have the energy to get up and take her back to her own. As I lie there listening to the cacophony of sounds we were making (Little Sissy sucking her fingers, Hubby snoring, and me hacking away with this annoying little cough that won't go away), I first thought of our brokenness and need for God. We need comfort (thus the sucking), we need healing (thus the coughing), and we need breath (thus the snoring). We were a chorus of need, a symphony of brokenness. Then all poetry and depth came to a screeching halt, ending the concert like a series of broken violin strings, and I just felt irritated. I am tired. I have hyper-sensitive night hearing, designed by God to hear a baby's cry--not to be kept up by a grown man's snoring or a toddler's early bird performance of "Happy Birthday to Me." I suddenly found the energy to scoop up sweet baby girl and take her to her own room and the initiative to move Hubby's head around until either he was in a better position or he was just too angry for a moment to keep snoring. Suddenly I realize that my spiritual moments are so fleeting and the carnal woman inside of me is in need of redemption. I AM TIRED, PEOPLE!

Can I call you Joe?

The Killa from Wasilla rocked tonight. I keep hearing comments about how she really connected to the people with her small town charm. The beauty of that is that she didn't conjure it up. She probably says "heckuva" and "doggonit" every day. I also think Senator Joe Biden didn't conjure up his emotion about losing his own family members and his concern that his child wouldn't make it. He seems to be changing his story, though. Hopefully that's not the change the Obama/Biden ticket is calling for??? I want to hear the report from the fact checkers when they're done ripping everyone apart. I also can't wait to see the SNL rendition of the debate. Tina Fey is amazing as Sarah Palin. Sarah is the new kid on the block, but I thought she performed well, held her own, and continues to be charming. But someone please clear this up for me...who is going to fix our economy? I'm still confused on this point.



Tune in Tuesday for the next debate. I'll miss Sarah, though. "Say it aint so, Joe."

Lose 3 Pounds A Day Before Christmas

It all started when I noticed that I could lose 2 pounds just by feeding the baby. First I thought if I could just have 15 more kids to feed, my extra 30 pounds would be gone. Then I remembered that the extra 30 pounds is baby weight from my last one. Let's see...multiply 30 pounds by 15 babies, and now I'm 450 pounds overweight. OK, so that won't work. So here's my fail-proof, step-by-step plan to losing 3 pounds every day before Christmas. This must all be done first thing in the morning, before getting dressed or eating anything.

1. Feed the baby.

2. Go to the bathroom.*

3. Clip my toenails.

4. Blow my nose.

5. Get undressed.

6. Shave my legs.

Wala! I'm now 3 pounds lighter than I was when I started. Foolproof. No exercise or dieting required. I'm going to do this every day before Christmas.

*This weight loss will vary depending on the success of the bathroom visit.

Fine print: The 3 pounds comes back by the end of the day every time. If you follow my plan, you will still be the same weight at Christmas as you are now.