Cocooned at home today

With two of my three children down with assorted bugs, we'll be spending the day cozied up at home.  We've got Wallace & Gromit going on the DVD player in the living room, and my favorite Chuck Missler sermon series going on Ashley's lap top in the kitchen while I putter around. 

I'm going to try and make some bread today.  We've been out for weeks without missing it, but a big fat piece of toast would have been perfect with my coffee this morning and there wasn't any bread.  I'm wondering if Dan and Ashley would have liked a slice of toast with their coffee, and feeling mighty bad that it wasn't on my radar until it inconvenienced me.  *sigh*  If I could, I'd scoop this selfish gene of mine out with a spoon.


I'm also making a batch of granola to stir into our yogurt.  Interested in the recipe?  Go here.  It's wicked easy and it makes a ton.  I'm leaving out all the dried fruit (dentist's orders) but adding in some pumpkin kernels.  I'm also looking for something to do with chicken for dinner tonight.  I'll check out this page at MamaWhatsForDinner.com, there's always some great inspiration there.

There.  Now that I've bored you to tears with all manner of minutiae concerning my Thursday, excite me with the minutiae of yours!

Almost Wordless Wednesday

A note from Ashley, quickly and quietly scratched into the frost on a thawing bag of last year's pumpkin.  Life just doesn't get much better.

A refutation

Children in the kitchen?  What about the mess, you ask?  Here's a great way to take care of that.

No time like the present to learn how to clean up after yourself.  :-)

Have a blessed weekend!

It's not about the mercury...

... although that's reason enough to avoid compact fluorescent light bulbs (CFLs), those fun little curly light bulbs our government would like us all to use.  Get this: they affect asthmatics, MS sufferers, diabetics, anyone with neurological problems.

Please watch this video and you'll be convinced.

A lazy blogger blogroll...

Good morning, I hope this is shaping up to be a fabulous Monday for you.  My morning has been cruising right along.  I decided to clean out the refrigerator this morning, so I can say that I've earned my computer time.  ;-)

I have lots to accomplish today in the clutter and laundry department, so no time for a real post from me.  I'll share a few links to some of my favorites out there in bloggy world instead.  Leave a comment and tell 'em who sent ya. 

Have a blessed day!

Teaching Boys Chivalry at A Wise Woman Builds Her Home
Bloomers for $10 at The Play Dress
Parlor and Kitchen Notes - Just found this blog this morning, looking forward to poking around.
Pleasant View Schoolhouse - She's back!!!  She'd said goodbye and closed up the blog, but she's back!
A Dress a Day - Just like it says... A dress... nearly every day.
Girls' dress patterns for those of us brand new to sewing - Found at The Handmade Dress, a fun blog!

Alrighty then, that should keep you buys for a good hour.  <3

French Fried Cheerios

Oh yes, you heard that right.  French. Fried. Cheerios. 

It was a gloriously chilly morning this morning.  The two youngest went outside to play baseball in the back yard after breakfast.  A few hours later they had earned a few pink noses and rosy cheeks.  I thought I'd surprise them with cocoa and French Fried Cheerios.  It was a hit!  I'm still thankful for the person who turned me on to them, though I don't remember who it was.  Ahem.

Curious?  Of course you are!

Melt 4 tablespoons of butter in a large frying pan over medium-high heat.  Add 1/2 teaspoon seasoning salt and 1/8 teaspoon of cayenne pepper to the butter and stir well.  (Adjust both to your own taste, or leave them out entirely if you want.)  Add 6-8 cups of honey nut Cheerios and mix well to coat all the O's with butter.

Stir occasionally with a wide heat-resistant spatula or scraper, working to bring the O's from the bottom of the pan up to the top.  Once the O's start to brown, stir constantly.  The browning will happen quickly now and the O's will burn easily if you let them sit in one spot too long.

Once they're as browned as you'd like, remove them from the pan to a bowl and eat right away.  They'll keep in an airtight container, but I doubt they'll be around long enough for keeping. 

The Breakfast Club

It's clear that something needs to be done about the breakfast situation around here.

We usually have boring cereal during the week (corn flakes, rice krispies, Cheerios), with some kind of sugary cereal on Saturdays (they love to pick out The Saturday Cereal at the store).  But because breakfast cereal is, essentially, a bowlful of empty calories, they're hungry again and begging for snacks within an hour of finishing.  I can't afford to feed them all day every day, but if they're genuinely hungry I can't just say no.

I'm trying to make breakfast a bit more substantial, hoping to get them through to 10:00 before they're begging for a snack.  Oatmeal and sausage this morning, eggs and toast tomorrow.  I'd love some more suggestions!

If you haven't ever made oatmeal on your stove top, you really should try it.  It's easy and doesn't take much longer than instant.  You can buy old fashioned oats for much cheaper in the bulk foods section than buying a bucket of something off the cereal aisle shelf.

I add flax meal (so good for you!) and brown sugar, but you could do whatever you want.  Leave it plain and add your own strawberry jam or other favorite fruit preserve.  Or smash a few bananas into the pan with maple syrup and a few sprinkles of cinnamon and nutmeg.  Today we had brown sugar and some chopped up breakfast sausage mixed in.  Yummmmm.

Oatmeal done on the stove top also freezes very well.  When Jonah was a baby, I'd make a big batch and freeze it in Jonah-sized portions.

Stove Top Oatmeal with flax and brown sugar

3 cups liquid (I usually do 1 cup milk and 2 cups water)
2 cups old fashioned oats (not the quick cooking kind)
3 Tablespoons flax meal
5 Tablespoons brown sugar

Bring liquid to a simmer over medium-high heat in a medium saucepan.  Add oats and stir.  Keep stirring occasionally until oats are almost done, about 5 minutes.  Add flax meal and brown sugar and stir until flax is well incorporated.  Serve hot. 

Variations:

*  Smashed bananas with cinnamon, nutmeg and brown sugar
*  Strawberry jam, or your other favorite preserves
*  Maple syrup and brown sugar with a few shakes of cinnamon
*  Honey and peaches

Mary-Beth's turn to cook

It's Tamale Pie tonight!  I got the recipe at my favorite recipe site, MamaWhatsForDinner.com and adapted it for tonight because I forgot to put everything in the crock pot this afternoon.  Oh, and I forgot to boil the kidney beans this morning.  Ahem.

Brown 2 pounds ground beef with 1 small chopped onion.  Drain and return to pan.

Add one 15-ounce can of red enchilada sauce and stir.  This was when I was supposed to add the kidney beans.  Ahem.  If you wanted to, you could add a drained can of corn or the equivalent of frozen corn.  If you use frozen corn, let the whole lot sit on the stove for a few minutes so the corn can thaw.  Otherwise it's alright to leave the heat off at this point.

Now mix together in a bowl the following:

One box of Jiffy Corn Muffin Mix (or the equivalent of your homemade mix)...

One egg, lightly beaten...

Two tablespoons butter, melted...

1/3 cup milk...

One 4-ounce can of diced, fire-roasted green chiles and 1 cup shredded cheddar-jack cheese.

Mix it all up.

Pour meat mixture into the bottom of a 4-quart casserole dish.  Spoon corn bread mixture over top and spread evenly.

Bake at 350 degrees until the corn bread is done and the sides are bubbly, about 20-30 minutes.  I forgot to set the timer so I have no clue how long it really took.

While dinner's in the oven, have the child clear the rest of the school day mess from the dining room table...

... and set the table.  That's sour cream and chopped green onions on the table there.

Instruct her about what *not* to do with the milk glasses when company's over.  Ahem.

Now have the child take a bowl of chips to the table, and call everyone to dinner.  It. was. Awesome.

It's a cloudy day

*5/11/10 Storm* from the Tri-Cities Area collection at JohnClementGallery.com. 

It's cloudy today.  I adore a cloudy day!  But today is the kind of cloudy day that isn't my favorite.  Gloomy but with no rain to refresh the green things in the neighborhood.  Not warm, but not chilly enough for a sweatshirt.  There's nothing spectacular about today.  We certainly aren't enjoying a fabulous storm like the one captured so beautifully in the photo above by Mr. John Clement.  If you get the chance, you should browse around his website.  I highly recommend his famous lightning collection.

So as I was saying, it's a blah kind of day.  Nothing remarkable, nothing noteworthy.  I usually love cloudy days, loving fall like I do, but I prefer my cloudy days to be windy and, if at all possible, blanketed in rain.  But man, today's blah is zapping me in the motivation department.  It's just so lukewarm!

Life is like that sometimes, isn't it.

It is so easy to kick it into autopilot and sail through unremarkable days like today.  Allowing my lukewarm surroundings to dull my senses and put me in a lukewarm mood, answering my children with a lukewarm voice, taking care of my home with a lukewarm attitude.  We all (well... I...) need days like today to give us respite from the dramatic up-and-down that can be the homeschooling lifestyle (super good days, super bad days), but I'm glad they don't happen very often.

We read Revelation 20, 21 and 22 today, trying to figure out what life will be like then.  Can you imagine a climate that allows fruit trees to produce an entire harvest each month?!  Yowza.  I can guess that the weather would have to be fairly constant, not given to extremes.  But really, who knows?  It's the new heavens and the new earth we're talking about here.  God can call the entire universe into existence with a single word, He can surely make trees bear fruit in any weather.  I have no idea how He's going to work it, but I'm excited to find out.

And I'll bet there'll be nothing lukewarm about the weather.

I never thought about it this way...

Christians, what would God have said to an Israelite who put their children on a bus and sent them to the Philistines every morning to be educated?  

(found at this blog, which is now at the top of my bookmark list)

A giveaway of the best kind

I'd never heard of Marie-Madeline Studio before, but now that I have?  Can't wait to poke around there.  The cutest aprons:

Look at these lovely skirts for women and girls!

There are six different bags to choose from:

Everything is made by hand by a woman and her four daughters.  And the fabrics!  Oh, such beautiful fabrics.

I found out about Marie-Madeline Studio via one of my favorite blogs, A Wise Woman Builds Her Home.  Go there to enter for a chance to win the giveaway.  Yes, a giveaway!  A custom-made apron!  Besides the fact that it's a giveaway (read: free), it's aprons.  Aprons, man!

Almost Wordless Wednesday

Mary-Beth getting some quality girl time with Hazel.

Look what I picked up for $2.99/skein today!  The photos don't do the colors justice, y'all.

I think maybe a shoulder wrap.  What would you make?

Canned some strawberry jam

If you're a canner, don't throw away the foam you skim off your jam.  It goes great on biscuits at snack time!

Completely different subject, but I had to chuckle when I looked at this photograph.  See how neat and tidy Jonah's area is, and how spread out Mary-Beth's set-up is?  Their bedrooms, indeed their personalities, are very similar to what you see going on with their snack situations.

Jonah's very ordered.  There's one way to get from point A to point B - fast.  His room is neat and tidy, he straightens it himself sometimes twice a day.  He has a place for all his things, and likes for the day to go a certain way.

Mary-Beth is so different from her brother.  Order?  That's something you do at a restaurant.  She doesn't walk anywhere.  She skips, twirls, dances, hops, anything but walking.  The right place for her things?  Anywhere in the house will do just fine, thank you.

I wouldn't change a thing.

Cheap thrills

If only all forms of entertainment were this innocent, and this much fun.  Thank you, WinCo, for the cheap thrills.  You're almost as fun as when the garbage truck comes on Thursdays.

Rushing the season

My brother, Luke, and his wife, Melissa, will be hosting Thanksgiving this year.  It's their first holiday Out On The Farm with a nice big dining room to fill with family.  Between their 6 and our 5, plus whomever else comes to share the day, it will be a home full of love and thankfulness.



Yes, I'm already looking forward to Thanksgiving.  And yes, I do realize it's only August but I can't help it.  Fall is my favorite.  My favorite, y'all!  What's not to love?  The cold mornings with hot coffee, the rain, the cozy evenings together at home, the leaves, the family get-togethers, the autumn decorations... Did I mention it's my favorite?



Today I'll be getting my home ready for fall decor.  Storing all the summer stuff, cleaning the areas I usually decorate, probably forcing myself not to haul out the fall stuff.  After that, I will finally finish those napkins - I will!  (Again, I'll post about that later - I will!)  I've had a shoulder wrap on the knitting needles for almost a year, so today, in anticipation of the cooler weather, I'll use my earned free time to work on finishing that wrap.  Can't wait!



I'm so thankful to be home, not having to be rushed after a long day at work like the old days when it was just Ashley and me.  I can putter and dote all day long.  Thank you, Father, for my home and family!



Have a fantastic day!

Naturally.

Last night during dinner...


Jonah: "Dad? Can we play catch after dinner?"


Dan:  "No son, I'm gonna try and fix that water pump."


Jonah:  "Without electrocuting yourself?"


Dan:  "That's the goal."

My brother and sister-in-law have moved Out To The Farm, as the children say.  They're coming into town for errands today and then stopping by for a visit.  I've been happily straightening and polishing in anticipation of their visit.  I did the daily sweep this morning rather than this afternoon so I know baby Ellie won't be snacking on anything she shouldn't be.  ;-)

Getting all my work done this morning so I can sit and visit and not worry about not getting things done.

I know there will be much horseplay by the 5 cousins and I don't want to miss a moment of it.  I think we'll have tuna sandwiches for lunch.  With many pickles.  Tuna just isn't tuna for Ashley without copious quantities of pickles.  I agree with her.

I enjoy Melissa's company so much.  Ashley said it best a few minutes ago: we aren't friends because we're family.  We're friends because we can be.  Because the Lord has brought us together as sisters in Christ and I couldn't be more thankful.

I know Melissa and I will talk of God and of His unfathomable grace.  We'll marvel together about how God moves and leads.  How He reached down into the muck that we called lives and saved us from ourselves.  We'll energize each other, galvanize each other's resolve to point others to Christ with our lives.

Enough sitting at the computer.  I want to finish up a few napkins (will post about that later) before everyone gets here.  Have a fantastic day!

Holy motivation

I've been reading the Little House series again.  My particular favorite is Farmer Boy.  Um, yeah.  The amount of work they did in one day just to survive?  We in our culture don't do that much work in a week. 

Whenever I'm resenting having to pick up shoes - again - or irritated that I have to haul the trash can out to the curb in my robe because my honey forgot...  And what is that?!  How dare I?  That man works so hard, the least I can do is haul the trash to the curb on the rare Thursday that Dan forgets!  And while we're on the subject, why am I not dressed yet?...

In short, when I'm knee deep in the process of building an altar to myself and demanding that my family bow at it, I sit down and read Farmer Boy again.  I suggest it to you now as a way to appreciate what little we have to do these days.


So I'm trying to earn my free time.  Isn't that a new concept?  Earning it, rather than feeling entitled to it.  My husband is out busting his hump every day, slaying dragons in the world of HVAC install and service so I can stay home and educate our children.  He *sometimes* gets a lunch break, but it's a quick one, and he has to earn it by working hard before and after that break.  All the work needs to get done and there will be no excuses given or accepted at the end of the day.


I'm resolving to finish so many tasks each morning before allowing myself to sit and have idle time (internet, reading, knitting, sewing, etc.).  It's worked well so far!  Of course, this is day 2.  I can do anything for 2 days.  ;-)  Praying to God to keep me motivated.  Oh how I need Him for motivation, because I don't have it in me on my own.

Reading Farmer Boy always brings me back to the ultimate Authority, the Word of God. 

Proverbs 31:27 - She watches over the affairs 

of her household and does not eat 

the bread of idleness.

Hello.  Yeah.  It's all right there. 


Have you and God solved an idleness issue of your own?  I'd love to hear about it.

While sitting around the back yard fire pit last night

Me: Mary-Beth, good job going behind Daddy instead of walking in front of him, close to the fire.

(pause....)

Mary-Beth: Sometimes I burp into my napkin.

Uhhhhhhm... mkay.

Uncle!

Found this out in bloggy land this morning. It cuts to the quick y'all, I reached in to touch it and pulled back a bloody stump. Ugh, I'm so guilty of this. Ask any of my children, especially my oldest. *sigh*

It’s not so much what you say

As the manner in which you say it;

It’s not so much the language you use

As the tone in which you convey it;

“Come here!” I sharply said,

And the child cowered and wept.

“Come here,” I said-

He looked and smiled

And straight to my lap he crept.

Words may be mild and fair

And the tone may pierce like a dart;

Words may be soft as the summer air

But the tone may break my heart;

For words come from the mind

Grow by study and art-

But tone leaps from the inner self

Revealing the state of the heart.

Whether you know it or not,

Whether you are mean or care,

Gentleness, kindness, love and hate,

Envy, anger, are there.

Then, would you quarrels avoid

And peace and love rejoice?

Keep anger not only out of your words-

Keep it out of your voice.

Author Unknown

See what I mean? I know, right? Just had me screaming uncle, like Ralphie in A Christmas Story.

I used to work in AWANA with a woman who said that her mother (get this!) never once raised her voice. Never once yelled at her, but always used a calm steady voice. As you might imagine, we stared at her like she had lobsters crawling out of her ears. Not because of who her mother happened to be, but because of the super huge feat that is. We had to admit it made perfect sense, because these two daughters of That Woman were the gentlest creatures we knew. As were their children.

But come on. Never once raised her voice? Like... never?

Sooooo, when you flushed an entire roll of toilet paper... no yelling? When you took a Sharpie marker to the walls... no shouting? When you stabbed Mother's size 10 knitting needle into the couch cushion 947 times because that ka-thunk ka-thunk sound amused you... no wailing, no weeping, no gnashing of teeth? Nothing?

Yeah. We weren't buying it.

The woman's sister walked in, and after a few moments of memory-searching, it was confirmed that their mother never once yelled at them. I only have three words to say to that: a-maz-ing.

Now I know that nobody is perfect. No, not one. Romans 3:23 For all have sinned and fall short of the glory of God. No child is perfect and none of us mothers has it all figured out. There is no such thing as the perfect mother. Even if you think your mother had it wired? I will bet you a million iced grande hazelnut lattes (Starbucks please, make it a triple) that she didn't think she had it wired. We, all of us, have things we want to improve upon. Aspects of our personality or character that we would gladly hack out with an axe if we could.

Proverbs 15:1 - A kind answer turns away wrath; but grievous words stir up anger.

It's a science, baby. A recipe. Do this, you get that. This? Then that. This that this that. Scream at your children, they don't listen to what you say, but they do feel your attitude. Your words are meaningless. All they take away is how you're feeling about them. (I know... knife, meet heart... me too.)

I'm not saying don't discipline your children. Anyone who knows me, knows that I would never say that. The Bible says in Proverbs 13:24 that the parent who doesn't discipline her child hates that child. Think about it. It's true. And it also says to do it right then and there, and don't pay any mind to all their whining and boo-hoo'ing. Of course they don't like discipline. It's no fun. But it needs to be done. Proverbs 19:18 (I love the King James here) - Chasten thy son while there is hope, and let not thy soul spare for his crying.

There's the art. You have to discipline, but you also have to find a way to do it without breaking their hearts. I don't want my children to be walking down memory lane one day and have to say how much I raised my voice. I want my home to be an escape from the meanness outside these walls. I don't want to pass on that legacy of yelling, that they no doubt will hand down to their own children. (Please God, no!) I want my love and discipline to reflect God's ways. To draw my family towards Christ!

What. a HUGE. undertaking. But! By God's grace, it is possible.

Philippians 4:13 - I can do all things through Christ who strengthens me.

Do you hear that, fellow mother-in-the-trenches? All things. ALL. According to this verse, it IS possible. (No, really!) And did you hear that other part? It's Christ who strengthens us. We don't have the power to do it on our own.

He's our Daily Bread. He gives us what we need for each day, each hour, each circumstance, right when we need it. If God can provide food and water to the entire nation of Israel during a 40-year journey in the middle of nowhere, reluctant though they were to be there, whining every step of the way... He is big enough to provide you and me with the patience we need to stop, take a deep breath, and not destroy the child who just poured a whole box of Cheerios into the dog food bag.

Discipline? Yes. Grumpy Spice, fire-breathing, mouth-like-a-sailor (no offense, sailors!) pattern of harshness that they'll never forget, and probably inflict on their own children? No. By God's grace, no.

OK. Now you know as much as I know. If you were hoping to get to the end and find that Magic Bullet answer? Super sorry about that. I don't have it. As I said before, you may recall, I struggle with this. I don't always fail, and with prayer and much deep breathing, it's so much better now than it used to be. But I still fail more than I want to.

Tell you what. Let me know you need it, and I'll pray for you. You pray for me too, okay?

I love the smell of wet paint!

I am loving the new drapes and furniture around the old bloggy-blog. Way more fun than those old greenish polka dots, don't you think? And whoever it was that told me I should be blogging what the children say so I won't forget it? Thank. You. I've been reading some older posts and, I'm here to tell ya, I've forgotten half of that stuff. Reading it brings it back, sure, but oh how long is the road back! I'm laughing out loud all over again, as so often happens when we old ladies hear a story again that we'd long forgotten. This one in particular, and this one. Aaaaaand this one.

Thanks for dropping by!

Oh. My mistake.

Ashley's friend Ashley Mask is here helping Ashley clean her closet.

Heard from the other room: "That was easy. That was easy. That was easy. That was easy. That was easy. That was easy. That was easy."

Me: "Awwwwww, Jonah! Ashley gave you her easy button. How nice!"

Jonah: "No, actually it was Ashley."

"Mom!!! Eventually, King Neverkizzever believed in the true God!!!" --- Jonah, talking about the Bible history regarding "Rack, Shack & Benny" (a.k.a. Shadrach, Meshach, Abednego and King Nebuchadnezzar).

In which the boy expounds on the benefits of bunnies.

Jonah: We should get a rabbit because a rabbit is like a mower except it's smaller. And? When the rabbit dies?  (finger gun) You can just use your mower again.

(It all boils down to the lawn mower for my little man.)

But you said every good game for boys has hot lava...

Me: "Jonah, Aunt Nancy asks about your baseball game yesterday. She wants to know if there was any hot lava."

Jonah (with a grin): "We're the Fireballs, not the Hot Lava Balls."

On the way to pick up Mom for her labs and radiation appointment this morning:

Jonah: We're taking Grandma to the doctor again?

Mary-Beth: Wow. She's always sick.

Jonah: No she's not, Mary-Beth. She's not always sick.

Mary-Beth: Yes she is.

Jonah: No she's not.
Mary-Beth: Yes she is.
Jonah: No she's not!
Mary-Beth: (giggle) Yes she is.
Jonah: No she's not infinity!

Mary-Beth: Oh yeah? Then why do we always take her to the doctor? (tongue out at Jonah)

Me: We take Grandma to the doctor for a special medicine she has to use every day. She has something called cancer. Mary-Beth is right, Jonah. Grandma is sick.

Mary-Beth: Oh. (pause) So does she cough a lot? Or sneeze a lot.

That must be it.

Ashley this morning: "Hey Mom, the neighbor lady across the street, her arm's in a sling. What happened?"

Me: "Oh wow, I don't know. Surgery? Or maybe it's broken. I wonder what happened."

Jonah: "Maybe she fell off her roller skates. Then (insert crashing sound)... y'know... broken."

My hero!

Mary-Beth bounded into my bedroom this afternoon sporting Jonah's red superhero cape. Standing there, chin up, hands on hips, she says to me in her best superhero voice, "Mom? Can I go outside and save! the world!?" I kissed her on both cheeks and said, "Yes, you may. Please go and save the world in the back yard." She replied, shoulders now slumped, "But there aren't any people in that world."

Um, ew?

Mary-Beth: Um, Jonah? Your breath smells like trees.

Some questions don't need to be answered.

Jonah: "Hey Dad! Do you have anything big and sharp I can have?"

You learn something new every day.

Jonah: Hey Mom! Guess what! When your body grows? It even grows all at the same time. Not only half of it grows, but ALL of it grows. Even. your boobs.

Me: *ahem* Boobs?

Mary-Beth: He means "boobies." (With a knowing glance at Jonah. You know the one. If you have teenage girls, you've seen it. "Oh that poor woman. Will she ever catch up?")

Me: *ahem* Boobies?

Jonah: (eyebrows up, nodding) Yeah. I learned that (finger gun) at sign language class.

Now where in the world did I put that syllabus from ASL class? It's around here somewhere...

Dear God, please don't let him find half a frog.

Jonah: "Mom? This pocket right here is sooo big, I bet I could fit a whole frog in there."

Maybe I should sew that one shut.

Wow. That's tall.

Jonah: "The trees at the cabin are almost as tall as God and Jesus stuck together."

Almost.

That long ago, eh?

Jonah: "WAIT! I have seen a rabbit before. It was at the pumpkin patch........ That was back when I had all my teeth."

I'm betting that won't be the last time he'll have to say that.

It's all about the lums, yo.

Mary-Beth: "When we cough or sneeze, really our lums are just squeezing the germs out. (nods, eyebrows up) They are."

I believe it, every word.

Overheard at the kitchen counter

Mary-Beth: Hey Jonah, let's play that you're a lousy doctor.
Jonah: Okay.... You? Are dead.

(That's lousy, alright.)

Jonah says we should move the toaster.

"We should put it over there (finger gun pointed at the coffee station) by the cinnamon and sugar. (shrug) Y'know, for when you're making toast. It'll be closer to the cinnamon and sugar. (shrug) Then you could put cinnamon and sugar on all the toast. (finger gun pointed at me)"

Why didn't I think of that?

Ask a stupid question...

Jonah: "I don't like green beans, Mom."

Me: "Really? Wow. Green beans rock! Why don't you like them?"

Jonah: "I think it's the beans part I don't like."

It's a man thing.

Jonah found out he was going to get to visit with my friend Debbie's son Emmitt (who is 13 years old and super fun) while I was out running errands. He said, "Ooh! Can I wear a baseball shirt? Cuz I wanna play football with Emmitt and (insert finger gun) have a race."

She's good at so many things.

Jonah and Mary-Beth were playing "Don't Laugh," a game during which you try to keep a straight face while the other person tells you not to laugh.

It's harder than it sounds. Go ahead and try it. Don't laugh! Don't do it. Don't you laugh!

See?

So Jonah had just lost at his turn and, at the end of his laughing fit, said, "Y'know, Hazel is REALLY good at this game."

Meet Hazel:

Fun sucker.

Jonah: I'm a snoooow! dinosaaaaaaur! Rrrrrrroooowwwwrrrrr!

(pause)

Mary-Beth: You're not even a snow man.

Alrighty then

I just had to tell Mary-Beth that lip gloss doesn't belong on her eyebrows. She disagreed. She's lucky that pink is her color.

More "don't ask don't tell"

I'm choosing not to pursue the facts regarding the orange peel I just found inside the boy's sock. I'm just.... not going to ask.

Don't ask, don't tell

A transformer in our neighborhood blew this morning. The noise of it drew us all outside to see what we could see. Dan said he'd seen a puff of smoke, I grimaced and said "Yikes. Must have been a squirrel." My niece Lily (Luke and Melissa's oldest) thought for a second, then looked up at me and said, "Do squirrels do that?"

It's got Mary-Beth all over it

I found this little poem while out on the interwebz searching for copywork quotes for Jonah. Who does this bring to mind?

Singing Time
by Rose Fyleman

I wake in the morning early
And always, the very first thing
I poke out my head and I sit up in bed
And I sing and I sing and I sing.

Your honesty is refreshing

Mary-Beth came to me this morning wearing her most innocent look. You know the one: the chin is pressed to the chest, the eyes are looking up at you over the glasses, the bottom lip is sticking out. That look. Knowing her as I do, and having seen that look before, naturally I smelled a rat.

Her: Mommy? Jonah almost throwed that car at me.

Me: Really? He almost threw that car at you?

Her: Yes, he did. He almost throwed that car at me and it keeps making me mad every day.

Me: Hmmm. Did he throw the car at you, or did he almost throw the car at you?

Her: He almost throwed it.

Me: Ah. Well, why would he throw a car at you? Did you throw a car at him?

Her: Yes, but I keeped missing him.

Now we're getting to it.

Who asked you?

Mary-Beth: Mommy? When I'm 7 years old, will my feet touch the floor when I'm on the toileeyet (toilet)?

Me: Yes, I'm almost sure of it.

Mary-Beth (after a pause): Mommy? How old are you?

Me: Thirty-eight.

Mary-Beth: Wow! That's a loooooong time ago!

At least she knows the right answer

Me: Mary-Beth, are we supposed to put the whammy bar up our nose?
Her: Nnnnnnnegative.

That takes care of that

Mary-Beth (in a voice so low it's almost a whisper): Mommy? There was a ear twig crawling by my toes on the ground over outside by the garden.

Me: Oh, you know that ear wigs can't hurt you, right? Did you walk away from him?

Mary-Beth (same low whispery voice): No. I killed him with a shubble.

That'll work.

That might be a problem.

(Jonah, calling from his room to Mary-Beth's room.)
Mary-Beth!..... Will you come help me organize?

(Mary-Beth, calling back in a sing-song'y voice.)
Nooooooo.

(Long pause, then Jonah again.)
Mommy? Will you come help me organize? Because I don't know what "organize" means.

"Mommy? Swinging high on the swings is a weally. impoh-tant. job."

For the record, she should get paid for it. She's weally. weally. good at it.

And the wisdom to know the difference

Mary-Beth has become something of an informer in recent months. Don't tell her any secrets, and don't do something tattle-worthy in her presence.

On Easter she tattled on her cousin Roman. I reminded her that it's not alright to tattle unless someone is getting into something dangerous. Y'know, someone's left the yard, fell off the swings, licking the barbecue, all that normal stuff kids do. What? Your kids don't lick the barbecue? Hm. Maybe mine tastes better. Anyway...

She came back about 20 minutes later and tattled on Roman again. I asked, "Mary-Beth, are you tattling?" She giggled and replied, "Nooooooooo. I'm not tattling. *gigglegiggle* I'm tell-ling."

Pardon me. My mistake. Carry on. ;)

Are those cobwebs?

Jonah flopped on the couch after lunch today. I asked him if he was sleepy, trying to stifle the joy from my voice at the prospect of naps. "No, my tummy just hurts a little bit." I remarked that his tummy has been hurting after every meal lately. He replied with a sigh, "Probably it's because I'm almost 6 and I'm almost an old guy."

I wondered about those wrinkles.

Thanks for clearing that up.

Mary-Beth: "Mommy? I like bananas."

Me: "You do?"

Mary-Beth: "Yeah, but I'm not a monkey."

Heard from the back yard...

Dan: Mary-Beth, you may not throw snow at Jonah's face.

Mary-Beth: Oh.... right...

Jonah's Evil Plan

I was on the phone with Melissa a few days ago when I heard a noise from the boy's room that can only be his dresser hitting the wall. Of course, I go investigate. What I found had nothing to do with the dresser, still not sure what the noise was about.

I did, however, find Jonah standing on his bed's footboard - teetering on one foot, really - with a big long stick in his hand. On the end of the stick was a cup that, when exposed to light, will glow in the dark. The cup on the end of the stick was wavering dangerously close to the lightbulb on the ceiling. The light bulb is exposed because the fixture's shade has given up its ghost to a golf ball. Ahem.

So if you know me at all, you know that my first instinct is to grab the stick ("Gimme that!") and shoo the boy off his bed ("Feet go on the floor!"). For some reason, something in me just had to know what was really going on so instead of my usual growl, because trust me, we've been here before, I simply asked Jonah what was going on.

"Son, what's goin' on?"

"Don't worry, Mom. It's aaaall part of my evil plan."

Cross my heart hope to die, he looked me dead in the eye and, as if he were telling me he'd put his shoes away, he assured me that the scene I'd happened upon was indeed no accident, but it was all part of his evil plan. Relax, Mom. Got it covered. Nothing to see here. Please go back to your dishes or whatever it is you do. Melissa, still on the phone, was shouting, "Oh my heck, did he just say "evil plan?" Find out the plan! What's the evil plan?!"

"Uhhhhmm, er, uhhhh, what's your evil plan, son?" I asked, trying not to laugh.

"OK, sooooooo, I put this cup on the end of this big stick, and I knew if I couldn't reach the light from my bed I could get there from the table or maybe my dresser. Sooooooo I stand here and I reeeeeach and try to put this cup on that light bulb. But there's only one problem." (He's got his little finger-gun pointed at me. That's how he points. Finger gun. Cocked a little to the side.)

"There's only one problem? Hm. What's the problem?"

"Yeah. I don't really know how to get the cup back down."

"Son? Would you like me to charge your cup up for you so it will glow?"

Finger gun. "That'd be great."

I took the cup off the stick, charged it, and handed it to the boy who was already under his bed with his sister, waiting for the charged cup. I left the room - with the stick, which is now in Toy Purgatory with the golf ball - and finally let the laughter out.

So what did I learn from this? Well first, I think I'm a little too quick to jump to the "Gimme that stick!" approach. That over-in-an-instant, no-nonsense, how dare you act like a kid approach. How grinchy am I! If I took the time to ask him what's really going on a little more often, instead of just thwarting his evil plans, I might just be shocked and entertained. I don't think I stopped smiling the rest of the day.

And second? Seriously, what is that kid watching on television? Evil plans? Really? Time to unplug.

Watch out, boys.

Jonah: Mary-Beth! We should go to Cameron and Jesse's house to play today!

Mary-Beth: No, I don't want to go to Cameron and Jesse's house because Jesse is always mean to me because he is mean to me.

(pause)

Jonah: I can easily handle Jesse.

Right you are, son.

Jonah, tonight at the dinner table, out of the blue:
"Mommy? A five-year-old is not an old man."

This one's for Jordan

Just so you have an idea of what you're in for in about 3 years.

Mary-Beth, from the bathroom: Mommyyyyyy! I pooooooped!
Me, going in to wipe her: Good job, baby!
Mary-Beth: Yeah! I pooped one BIIIIG one and one yeeeeeeettle one.



Thank you for sharing.

Fascinating.

Jonah (from the back seat of the only other woman in Dan's life, his Monte Carlo): Mommy? Do you like to hot rod this car?

Me: No son, I don't.

Jonah: Oh, because Daddy loves to hot rod this car.

Me: Oh, rrrrrrrreally.

If you're into Chicken Pox parties, gimme a call.

We've got 'em, we're happy to share. Bring lollipops. :-)

Mary-Beth was checking out a mole I have on my cheek.
"Mommy? Do you have chickit pops too?"

Fellow knitters!

My friend Betsy turned me on to this opportunity to knit for a good cause. Knit (or crochet) scarves for the participants of the January 2009 Winter Special Olympics! Here's a link to the 4-1-1 on Coats & Clark's web site (they're the sponsors, I believe) where you can find more information and the free pattern.

Thanks Betsy! :-)

Tomato, tomahto

Mary-Beth: Mommy, I don't like lettuce. I only like salad.

"Pete & Repeat were on the fence..."

Jonah: Mommyyyyy! I hurt my penis on my bike!
Mary-Beth: Mommy, me too. I hurt my penis, too.

Is that right? Fascinating.

Mary-Beth walked up to me this morning with a very serious look on her face. Usually that means she's about to tattle on her brother (we don't call her The Informer for nothing) but not this time.

Very serious look.

"Mommy?"

"Yes, baby?"

"I'm wild and cwazy."

Alrighty then.

Can there be any other opinion on the subject?!

One of my favorite lines from Pride & Prejudice, only because my fake British accent sounds really cool when I say it.

I don't know if you've ever heard of The Illuminati. They're the extreme lunatic fringe, in my humble opinion. I don't much like Wikipedia either, since anyone can go in and edit the information you find, but in this instance they're right on the money.

That's why I was so shocked to discover that I actually agree with something The Illuminati has to say. My friend Zanna forwarded this YouTube video to me and I'm so thankful she did. I've never been more sure of what's wrong and what's right than I am right now.

Broad brush I'm painting with, I know. But seriously. Watch the video (preferably with no children in the room) and then let me ask you: Can there be any other opinion on the subject?

Faster than a speeding bullet!

Jonah - Oooh! The moon is roundy tonight! I wish we could go up there in a plane or a rocket ship and see it for real.

Mary-Beth - Or you could wear my super hero cape, Jonah. You could wear it and see the moon if you want!

Everything looks big when you're 3 feet tall!

If you've ever seen me, you'd probably guess that my dainties aren't so very dainty, and indeed are big enough to actually need folding. (If you've actually thought about it, ummmmm... ew. Stop thinking about my underwear. That's icky.) So it should come as no surprise to me that my children notice the amount of fabric it takes to sew together a pair of knickers for their mother.

While folding *ahem* laundry the other day, Mary-Beth stopped by the couch and stood there watching me. After a minute or so:

"Wwwwwooooowwwww. You. have really. big. panties."

"Yep." I mean really, what else is there to say?

Mary-Beth threw her arms open wide and said, "Yeah. I have a yittle bottom and you have a biiiiiiiiiiiig bottom."

Thanks, kid.  Am-scray.

So THAT'S what's in there. I've often wondered.

"Oooooooh. I don't wanna break my head open. Then all my air will get out! And all my CEREAL!" -- Jonah

I've been thinking about that article

Had a great conversation with Debbie today about the article I posted a few days ago. Her perspective was one I hadn't seen before and it was eye-opening. That article wasn't so much about homeschooling as it was about values, and what we decide is important. About whether we decide to follow the politically correct party line and accept society's standards as our own, or if we choose to make the tough choices and risk offending people because it's what we know is right. Do both parents slave away 12 hours a day in pursuit of the almighty dollar and all it's trappings, at the expense of precious time together as a family? Or do we decide that our tent will suffice as our vacation home, our television is plenty big enough already (and turned on too much as it is) and we don't need a speed boat or more cars than we have drivers.

Sooo, my motivation for posting the article? See, unless you've been confronted by someone who's offended with the philosophy of homeschooling, you wouldn't really understand where I was coming from when I shared the article with you. I guess it's really my curiosity about what fuels such opposition to homeschooling. And the answers are probably as numerous as the people who hold the opinion. Some people out there are really angry, y'all. I mean rabidly, vehemently, fundamentally opposed to homeschooling. Why is that?

I've often wondered if it was because they're feeling like they're not 100% comfortable with their own choices and priorities, and are feeling insecure and defensive when presented with someone who made different choices. Could be.

It could also be that some don't get to make the choice. I know that when I was a single mom, I hated to see moms out and about with their kids during the day. That mom was probably married, she got to stay home with her kids and I hated her for it. I hated her for doing what I couldn't do. I wanted to be home with Ashley so badly but I just couldn't. I had to work! I had made certain choices and as a result was the only one capable of making money (Ashley couldn't reach the sink so I couldn't get her a job at Denny's as a dishwasher). That responsibility fell on me and wiped all other options off the slate.

So what's the source of all the anti-homeschooling animosity? Is it that they want to homeschool but can't for whatever reason? Is it that they don't want to homeschool and feel bad or guilty about that, feel like they have something to prove? Like we love our children more than you love yours because we want to homeschool? (That's not true, by the way.) Do they think we're feeling smart and smug and superior? Hardly. More than half of us would probably say that we know we've made the right decision but at the same time we feel woefully under qualified and humbled by the task. Or maybe it's that almighty left-wing attitude that it takes a village to raise a child and homeschoolers flaunt an independence and self-sufficiency that Society At Large finds distasteful.

I truly don't know where the animosity is coming from and I probably never will. Each person probably has their own set of reasons why what I'm doing is wrong. And when I think they may have a valid point, I really do sit down and think about it.

I'm sure I'd be able to think clearer if I had a big old speed boat to lounge on, though.

Do I make you uncomfortable?

I'm always amazed at how vehemently some folks oppose homeschooling, more now than ever in light of the craziness that's happening in California. I came across this article (link no longer works) at a homeschooling blog I frequent that helps shed some light on what could be the source of the indignation. Read it with an open mind, since there's bound to be something in it that makes the anti- or non-homeschooler feel uncomfortable. Sorry 'bout that, can't be helped. No hard feelings, right? Since I respect you and you respect me? Righto.

Oh, but before I let you read the article I feel I must disclose something for fear that if I don't you might think my own children behave themselves at the grocery store. They so totally don't. They really, really don't.

You'll see what I mean in a minute.

****************

SONNY SCOTT:Home-schoolers threaten our cultural comfort 6/8/2008 9:39:01 AM Daily Journal

You see them at the grocery, or in a discount store.

It's a big family by today’s standards - "just like stair steps," as the old folks say. Freshly scrubbed boys with neatly trimmed hair and girls with braids, in clean but unfashionable clothes follow mom through the store as she fills her no-frills shopping list.

There's no begging for gimcracks, no fretting, and no threats from mom. The older watch the younger, freeing mom to go peacefully about her task.

You are looking at some of the estimated 2 million children being home schooled in the U.S., and the number is growing. Their reputation for academic achievement has caused colleges to begin aggressively recruiting them. Savings to the taxpayers in instructional costs are conservatively estimated at $4 billion, and some place the figure as high as $9 billion. When you consider that these families pay taxes to support public schools, but demand nothing from them, it seems quite a deal for the public.

Home schooling parents are usually better educated than the norm, and are more likely to attend worship services. Their motives are many and varied. Some fear contagion from the anti-clericalism, coarse speech, suggestive behavior and hedonistic values that characterize secular schools. Others are concerned for their children’s safety. Some want their children to be challenged beyond the minimal competencies of the public schools. Concern for a theistic world view largely permeates the movement.

Indications are that home schooling is working well for the kids, and the parents are pleased with their choice, but the practice is coming under increasing suspicion, and even official attack, as in California.

Why do we hate (or at least distrust) these people so much?

Methinks American middle-class people are uncomfortable around the home schooled for the same reason the alcoholic is uneasy around the teetotaler.

Their very existence represents a rejection of our values, and an indictment of our lifestyles. Those families are willing to render unto Caesar the things that Caesar’s be, but they draw the line at their children. Those of us who have put our trust in the secular state (and effectively surrendered our children to it) recognize this act of defiance as a rejection of our values, and we reject them in return.

Just as the jealous Chaldeans schemed to bring the wrath of the king upon the Hebrew eunuchs, we are happy to sic the state’s bureaucrats on these “trouble makers.” Their implicit rejection of America’s most venerated idol, Materialism, (a.k.a. “Individualism”) spurs us to heat the furnace and feed the lions.

Young families must make the decision: Will junior go to day care and day school, or will mom stay home and raise him? The rationalizations begin. "A family just can't make it on one income." (Our parents did.) "It just costs so much to raise a child nowadays." (Yeah, if you buy brand-name clothing, pre-prepared food, join every club and activity, and spend half the cost of a house on the daughter’s wedding, it does.) And so, the decision is made. We give up the bulk of our waking hours with our children, as well as the formation of their minds, philosophies, and attitudes, to strangers. We compensate by getting a boat to take them to the river, a van to carry them to Little League, a 2,800-square-foot house, an ATV, a zero-turn Cub Cadet, and a fund to finance a brand-name college education. And most significantly, we claim “our right” to pursue a career for our own
"self-fulfillment."

Deep down, however, we know that our generation has eaten its seed corn. We lack the discipline and the vision to deny ourselves in the hope of something enduring and worthy for our posterity. We are tired from working extra jobs, and the looming depression threatens our 401k’s. Credit cards are nearly maxed, and it costs a $100 to fuel the Suburban. Now the kid is raising hell again, demanding the latest Play Station as his price for doing his school work … and there goes that modest young woman in the home-made dress with her four bright-eyed, well-behaved home-schooled children in tow. Wouldn’t you just love to wipe that serene look right off her smug face?

Is it any wonder we hate her so?

Sonny Scott a community columnist, lives on Sparta Road in Chickasaw County and his e-mail address is sonnyscott@yahoo.com.

Appeared originally in the Northeast Mississippi Daily Journal, 6/8/2008, section 0 , page 0

Wear your dainties, ladies.

Just a heads up. My own little Public Service Announcement. Someday you'll thank me.

If you're ever standing in line at the Barnes & Noble with two toddlers who just can't seem to behave, be sure to wear panties under your skirt.

That's all I have to say about that.

Speaking of domestic bliss...

What could be more the embodiment of domestic bliss than hanging sweet-smelling wash on the line on the perfectly not-too-warm breezy day (with the perfect apron by the way, the pockets of which hold an enormous amount of clothes pins, yo) with music from the front room floating around the yard on the breeze, while watching the children play together as if they didn't have a wicked thought between them. Their laughter, the wash, the weather.

My heart's swelling today, y'all.

The perfect Mother's Day *snort*

The "It's all about me" version:

* Coffee's already done when I wake up. (Usually is, Dan's up with the chickens. Oh, don't worry. I totally know where my bread's buttered.)

* The children would bound out of their beds in the morning and say "Happy Mother's Day! We're so thankful for you and all you do, Mom. The cooking! The cleaning! The precious gift of life! You've let us live this long despite finding our toys in the toilet and our coats on the roof. We just couldn't wait to sing your praises this morning. How can we ever do enough for you today?" Yeah, I know. I was laughing half way through it myself. Usually they just shuffle out and mumble, "Can we have cereal?" so anything besides that would be acceptable.

* Breakfast out! Like, at a restaurant! The kind with napkins and silverware that aren't wrapped together in plastic. Food that comes out on plates instead of in bags. We never do that.

* Mom-only time all. day. long. I'd hit the book stores, the yarn shops, get a pedicure, sit at the coffee shop and knit, sit and read over lunch. Then I'd browse about a dozen different stores - slowly! - without yanking one thing from some child's hands and putting it back on the shelf. Yuh-huh!

* Nap! No, I mean for me. Nap for me!

* Cook dinner for the fam. I love to cook, so it's not work for me. But I'll *ahem* let someone else do the dishes.

* Go straight to bed and read uninterrupted until I fall asleep.

Riiiiiiiiight. Okay. Now that I'm done dreaming, this is what will probably happen on Mother's Day.

* Coffee's done when I wake up. (Thanks, honey!)

* Children shuffle out and say, "Can we have cereal?" while they're still rubbing their eyes. Sigh and be thankful that at least one thing in life is predictable.  Whisper a prayer to God that I have them.

* Go to church and swell with pride as I watch 30 of my favorite children sing and act their little hearts out for their moms. Ignore the fact that one child is picking her nose, since she does it every time, we can't stop her, and we love that girl anyway so what good does it do to embarrass her about it? Just remember not to shake hands with her later.

* Have burgers on the grill at home for lunch.

* DOXA practice at 2pm. We're getting ready for an audition on 5/17 and we're perfecting the 3 songs we've picked. We polled the moms, they were all down with it. We kinda forgot to poll the dad, we're a little bit hoping his wife doesn't slash our tires. If she's mad I'm totally blaming it on Jim. ;-)

* Home by 5 or so for dinner. I'll cook, since I love to, but I'll *ahem* let someone else *coughcoughAshleycoughcough* do the dishes.

* Sit on the back patio with the newspaper and something fun to drink, watching the people I love most in the world play and laugh together. It's not often you see a family that actually enjoys spending time together, so I know how lucky I am.

* Think about my friend Jordan, pregnant with twins, and try not to cry thinking about how long and hard she fought for them, and I'm just so stinkin' happy for her.

* Be thankful we're all together, we're healthy and happy, have very little to complain about.

* Realize how blessed I am, and try not to cry. Why why WHY with the crying! I do have my "mean old biddy" reputation to uphold, after all.

Yeah, you're right. The "me" version of Mother's Day so totally won't happen. Wouldn't change a thing, though. Well, maybe the nap part, but the rest of it? I wouldn't have it any other way.

So, like, NO grumbling? Like, none? Really?

I love the laundry. I really really do. I'm not kidding, either. I love the laundry.

Well, wait. Let me clarify that.

I love to sort the laundry. I'm using the word love about sorting laundry, yes. But you know what I mean: sheets go with sheets, towels go with towels, lights, whites and darks, and so on. Sheets and pillow cases meet up and whisper all their bedroom secrets to the blankets. Not many people know that light colors are happiest when allowed to hang together and cheer each other up. They have that rose-colored glasses positivity about them that you just can't help be brightened by yourself. And darks? Dark clothes just want to be left alone to sit and brood in one big lumpy mish-mash, doing their best to look tortured, mysterious and aloof. Oh so very dark smoky French cafe.

I love to do the laundry, too. Mainly because I'm the only one in my house who does it right. Truly though, washing my perfectly sorted loads, hanging what needs to be hung and drying what goes in the dryer? It just speaks to my organization-loving heart. Dude, clothes don't want to be washed with towels. Towels leave all their working class terry-clothy lint all over the privileged fine knits that populate the upper crust of Laundry Room Society. And what fool decided it was okay to just undress into the washer and run it when it's full? Hellooooo?!! There are whites in there with dark jeans, man. Whites with jeans! Sweet fancy Moses, that's just crazy talk!

I also really dig on folding the laundry. Again, I'm the only one who does it right. And yes! There really IS a right way and a wrong way, don't argue with me. Who else knows how every little thing in this house needs to be folded besides the one who knows how it all needs to fit in drawers and cubbies? Moi, that's who. Jonah's shirts hang, Mary-Beth's dresses hang, towels and trousers folded in thirds, shirts folded department store style, knickers lay flat or fold, depending on size. *ahem* So yeah. I love to fold the laundry.

But today I was grumbling about laundry. Not laundry, really, but having to turn yet another of Ashley's flap-jacking shirts right-side-out. Seriously, people. There's no Right-Side-Out Fairy who comes along, waves her magic clothespin over the basket and the clothes just magically turn themselves to rights. No, the momma does that. And do you know why the momma does that? Because you don't!

So anyway, I'm grumbling to myself: "If I have to turn one more of these shirts back to rights I think I might just finally go to the zoo!" when suddenly, God decides I'm in need of a little calibration.

"Do everything without grumbling..." Philippians 2:14

W-what? Pardon? First of all, where did that even come from? I haven't read that verse in ages. On purpose. Grumbling seems to be getting me through my day just fine, thank you very much. Sure, there's plenty of weeping and gnashing of teeth around here when I put my foot down, but the children do it too!

"Do everything without grumbling..."

So, does that mean NO grumbling? Like, none? Really? Even if it's the billionth shirt I've turned right-side-out? Even if it's the 5,143,786th time I've had to ask a certain someone I'm married to where he put my favorite stockpot... AGAIN!? Because it's sure not where it belongs!

Even after the 43rd change of panties in one day? How about after I turn off the 90th light in a room with no! people! in it!? Huh? Huh?! Do You even know how frustrating that is? Certainly cause for grumbling if ever there was one.

No grumbling, huh? WHY???!!! I don't think You know these people I live with, Lord.

Oh. So you say Jesus didn't grumble when He went to the cross for me? Yeah. I remember that now.

(Thinking on it for a while...)

Okay, God. "Do everything without grumbling." I'll do my best. You're right. It probably would help my all-around attitude tremendously. If I'm purposely not grumbling, but deciding to thank You for these people I live with instead of grumbling about them? Yeah. It'd probably make a huge difference. I'll give it a try.

I'll, um, let you guys know how it goes.

Hooverheads.

I had to vacuum the kids' heads today.

Please. Don't ask.

Elinor Dashwood? Ummmm....

Take the Quiz here!

You are Elinor Dashwood of Sense & Sensibility! You are practical, circumspect, and discreet. Though you are tremendously sensible and allow your head to rule, you have a deep, emotional side that few people often see.

I saw this quiz at my friend Sarah's blog and since I love all things Austen I had to take it. Elinor Dashwood? I'm flattered, I must say. I loved Sense & Sensibility, and Elinor has always been one of my favorite Austen characters. But am I like her? I do have a knack for getting things done without much fuss, I'm practical, and I'm often the voice of reason in my family. But I have to admit it's not often that I allow my head to rule. Usually it's my mouth. Yes, Elinor Dashwood is much better at keeping her opinions to herself than I am.

Anyway, I thought you'd enjoy finding out which Austen character you more closely resemble. Thank you, Sarah!