Wednesday, September 30, 2009

Sweaty Princess

I had Sarah vacuum the kitchen floor this afternoon. She sat in one place and moved the vacuum wand around in the same spot, not really accomplishing anything. Then she started bawling like she was injured. I turned off the vacuum and asked her why she was crying. She sobbed, "All this work is making my neck sweat!" Noah laughed and said, "If I cried every time I sweated, all I would ever do is cry!"

Just a Normal Wacky Morning

This morning I made tapioca pudding, and Noah had the great idea to add some hot cocoa mix to it. I had some delicious amaretto cocoa mix from a Tastefully Simple party (Noah calls it "Tastefully Expensive") that was really good in the pudding. I added an apple and called it breakfast.

Then we resumed our Little House on the Prairie/Star Wars play. I was in the log cabin (under the card table), wondering what the weight limit was, while Luke Skywalker and Mary Ingalls stomped around on the roof. They rigged a doll (who was supposed to be Carrie Ingalls) up to the ceiling and made her bungee jump.

Tuesday, September 29, 2009


I made a log cabin out of our card table and a blanket so we could play "Little House on the Prairie" for at least the millionth time in the last six years. I was Ma Ingalls, as usual, and Sarah was Mary. Noah changed it up and decided he was going to be Luke Skywalker. I protested that, because I said Luke wouldn't have been around back then, but he justified it by saying, "Star Wars takes place 'a long time ago, in a galaxy far, far away'."

It was very interesting to hear Luke explaining to the Ingalls family about all the new technology. I sent Mary to fetch Dr. Baker, because Carrie was sick, but Luke saved the day by conjuring up Dr. Baker on his holographic communications system. He told me I could call Pa in the field if we both had cell phones. That led into a long discussion about how different frontier life would have been if they had modern technology.

Sunday, September 27, 2009

The Horrible Mom's Great Husband

Today my lovely little daughter said that I was a horrible mom. My knight in shining armor came to my defense and said, "She's not only your mom. She's also my wife, and I don't let anyone talk to her that way." I'm not sure what I did to deserve such a great guy, but I sure am glad he's mine!

Wednesday, September 23, 2009

Work and Play

The kids were playing happily in the living room, and I was in the kitchen, getting food ready to put in the crockpot for dinner. I was up to elbows in raw pork chops when the washing machine beeped. Normally, I would just ask the kids to go switch the laundry, but I hated to interrupt them, because they were at a critical point in their Star Wars play. Then I realized I didn't have to interrupt their play, just redirect it.

I yelled, "Luke! Leia! Wet droids have invaded the washing machine! Quick! Throw them in the dryer to save the empire!" They both ran full speed down to the basement and had the laundry in the dryer faster than I would have done it.

Tuesday, September 22, 2009

Heart March

Sarah loves making and delivering paper hearts. Noah joined her today. He cut out the hearts, and they both decorated them with markers. Sarah put dots, stripes, stars, and various patterns on hers. She signed her name on some of them until she got weary of that. Noah wrote "kiss" or "hug" on most of his (although some of his u's looked more like o's, so I hope people aren't offended if they receive a heart that says "hog" on it).

After all the hearts were made, they said they were going on a heart march. They put all the hearts in a plastic grocery bag and went to each house on our street to deliver them. It was chilly, windy, and raining, but they didn't care. Sarah was skipping along, carelessly holding the bag by one handle, and the hearts were streaming out behind her all over the street. When she went to pull a heart out of the bag, she discovered that the bag was empty. She looked behind her, saw hearts plastered to the wet pavement, and yelled in dismay, "Mom!" I was watching from the front door, so I yelled to her to pick them all up. Noah helped her get them all, and now they're drying in the kitchen for later delivery.

Monday, September 21, 2009

Marshmallow Feet

Noah has always had a hard time getting to sleep, ever since he was a baby. Last week I did a little guided visualization for him. I told him to take a deep breath, get comfortable and relax, and then I said, "Your feet are marshmallows bobbing in a cup of hot chocolate. Your legs are sticks gliding along on a peaceful river. Your torso is a freshly-washed sheet floating gently down to the bed. Your arms are feathers resting on soft, warm clouds. Your whole body is floating above your bed, and you're drifting off to sleep."

That worked great the first night. The next night as I was about to leave his room at bedtime, he said, "Will you do marshmallow feet?" I had no idea what he meant, so he said, "You know, where you tell me that story about how my feet are marshmallows and everything's floating?"

So now "doing marshmallow feet" has become part of the regular bedtime routine. However, its effectiveness is wearing off, because now he's had time to think about it and ask questions. Tonight it went like this:
Me: Your feet are marshmallows bobbing in a cup of hot chocolate...
N: Doesn't the hot chocolate burn my feet?
Me: No, it's not that hot, just pleasantly warm. Anyway, your legs are sticks gliding along on a peaceful river. Your torso is a freshly-washed sheet floating gently down to the bed. Your arms are feathers resting on soft, warm clouds...
N: But clouds aren't soft or warm. Aren't they cold and wet?
Me: Well, yes, but these are special dream clouds.
N: I don't know about that.... We need to make up something about my head too. Everything's floating except my head. It's still heavy as a rock on my pillow.

I told him I'd think about it, but that he should NOT think about it and just go to sleep. I think I'll make his head a big empty balloon tomorrow night.

Monday, September 14, 2009


We went to Ackerman Farms today, and the kids picked out pumpkins. Noah went for the biggest one he could find, and Sarah chose the smallest. They drew their designs on them with markers first and then cut out the faces (with a little help). We're cooking the flesh to make a pie and roasting the seeds. We love pumpkin season around here!

Working out a way to play

Noah built a big thing out of couch cushions, pillows, and blankets and invited Sarah to play with him on it. Of course, they had different ideas about how to play with it. Sarah started jumping on it like it was an inflatable bounce house.

Noah: Don't jump on it, Sarah! That is a dangerous weapon of the Empire, not a silly circus toy.
Sarah: No, it's not. It's a bouncy. Come on, let's jump!
Noah: I built the thing, and now YOU'RE trying to tell ME what it is?
Sarah: It's a bouncy, bouncy, bouncy. Boing! Yee-ha!
Noah (irritated, but trying to roll with it): Oh, so you want to pretend that the dangerous weapon of the Empire is disguised as a bouncy. Brilliant! The storm troopers will never figure that one out.
Sarah: Jump on it, Noah!
Noah: Ok, so let's pretend that it's R2D2's birthday, and we rented a bouncy for his party!
Sarah: Yeah, let's have R2D2's birthday party!

They spent the next half hour making a party for R2D2.

Thursday, September 3, 2009


I went to a Tastefully Simple party tonight, and driving home with no kids chattering in the back gave me an opportunity to wax philosophical about our GPS unit.

Mike wanted to get a GPS a few months ago, which I found totally unnecessary. The kids named it Sally Satellite. I've grown very attached to Sally and am thankful that Mike bought her. We set her to speak in a British accent, because I do enjoy a good British accent.

On my way to the party, I got distracted by a garage sale sign and deliberately disobeyed Sally's proper English instructions. She didn't yell at me, get frustrated, make sarcastic remarks, or even roll her eyes. She just calmly kept giving me directions to get me back on the right path. If only I could demonstrate such superhuman (or more accurately, subhuman) patience when my children disobey me.

As I unthinkingly obeyed Sally's directions on the way home, I thought how nice it would be if she could train my kids. When they met someone new, Sally would say, "Say 'Nice to meet you.'" She would remind them to say "please" when they ask for something. She could see their destination and direct them every step of the way, helping them make the right choice in every situation. I started wishing I had one of those for myself, and then I realized I do! God knows my destination and all the obstacles in my path, and He directs me using His Word and His Holy Spirit. All I have to do is listen and obey.