...I hope my kids never grow out of.
Pronouncing ornament as ordament
Pronouncing granola as ganola
Rolling their eyes at me when I do something silly, but laughing uncontrollably anyways
Crawling into my bed for a snuggle (this one I know happens...)
Wanting to tell me all about their day, even if I was right there.
On this most thankful of Thursday - I would like to say that I am most thankful for my family. I love my husband and cannot think of any time in my life when I have been more satisfied, content or blissfully happy as I am with him, right now. And everyday it gets better! I love my kids, each of them individually and for different reasons. I love our adopted daughter, Charlotte. What she means to this family is difficult to put into words but it can be said that she is a blessing to us. We are glad that she is here. I love my extended family and am grateful that today I can spend with my brother and his family. It is always a blessing to be able to enjoy the holidays with family.
Charlotte and Misha were put in charge of the table decorations. Here it is in process. The final product turned out so pretty. They did a fantastic job.
I woke up this morning loath to start the list of "to do's" that I had to prepare for Thanksgiving and guests (yay!). I wanted, rather, to read a book. (Yes, it is another P and P spin off that I found. I know what you are thinking. "How does she keep finding those?" The answer is, I don't know.) So, I decided that at least I could get my sheets in the washer. Then I could say I was doing laundry AND reading. That's being doubly efficient. So I went upstairs to strip my bed. Unfortunately (or fortunately) I looked around my room and thought about how tired I was of seeing toys (toys!) in my bedroom. It is supposed to be my sanctuary. So then I decided that while the sheets were washing, I could at least clean my room. It was on the list anyway. So I started to clean my room. After finishing most of it, I went into my closet to put something away and saw my vanity counter. I thought, "I am tired of having to dig through everything on here for my eyeliner, etc." So I decided, since my bedroom hadn't really taken that long, I might as well do a thorough job and clean my closet too. Well, as you can imagine, one thing led to another and I deep cleaned the entire room, including accumulating two bags of junk from my closet I didn't want anymore. I also rearranged a bit of furniture. Now my room looks bigger with the arrangement (and dare I say more feng shui?).
In the process of putting things away when I finished the room, I found that the hallway had a few toys in it too. Well, I couldn't bring the pile of toys from my room down to their proper place in the basement only to have to go back up for these ones too (So I cleaned the hallway, which naturally led to the kid's room). I was only going to pick up the toys, and then be done. Back to my book, was the plan. But the kid's room had bits of trash here and there that could easily go in my big box of trash that I had gathered from mine. I might as well make one trip out of that job too. Then all that was left was laundry. I at least had the fortitude to put the laundry in the baskets and leave that for tomorrow. In an hour's time I had cleaned the entire upstairs (minus the bathrooms - no round about reasoning was going to get me to start those yet) and all that was left was to vacuum.
Vacuuming done, I stood at the top of the stairs looking back through the upstairs floor and thought, "It only took me an hour to do all this?" I wondered why it was that cleaning it daily (as all good house wives must, right?) sounded so droll to me. Certainly, it would take less time to maintain then to deep clean. But, alas, what about my poor book? The characters in it are still waiting for me to discover their fate. Now that a good portion of my to do list is finished, I suppose it is only fair that I cease to neglect them.
Once upon a time there was a Mom and a seven year old boy who came home from school grumpy and determined to drive everyone in the house crazy with frustration. He summoned all of his 7 yr old skills and put them to good work. First he fought with his little sister and then he disrespected his mother. During dinner, he talked back and was rude to his older sister (exchange student). All evening he parried and thrust his little sword of contention in a fencing match to rival the ages.
The little boy's father was not around to tag team in the duel with his mother so that she did not go insane. Capital punishment was illegal. Finally, when everyone was in the car ready to go out that evening to the church for young women, and scouts, that mother had had enough.
Everyone was buckled in their seats and the boy made another attempt at discord. The mother lost it. For ten minutes they argued, she scolded, he growled back his answers and rolled his eyes. Then a voice in the mother's head said that this contention was not holy and that she was contributing as much to it as her son was. Touche.
She stopped and took a deep breath. She smiled at her son and asked him to smile at her. She said she did not like all this fighting and that it made the spirit in their home go away. The boy's armor of discontent melted away and he agreed. She asked him to say a prayer for them all, to ask that Heavenly Father grant them the spirit in their home again.
While he prayed, the mother felt the spirit come back and she was thankful. She heard it tell her to change tactics and to talk of love. All the way to the church the family played the "I love you because..." game that she made up. Every person got to say something they loved about everyone else and then got to hear why others loved them. The mother's heart was filled with peace.
Once everyone in the car had received their words of love, they called the father, and shared with him what they loved about him. Their family was whole again despite his distance.
Match Point: The Lord.
Today we had to take Ruby to the ER to get stitches. It was the first time I have had to take any of my kids there. Amazingly enough I was able to stay calm the entire time. It might have had something to do with the fact that she seemed to act as if nothing was wrong, despite the cut above her lip.
The only part that was difficult for her or me was when after they wrapped her tightly in a Velcro cocoon, to keep her still, they had to numb her locally. Of course the injection hurt, and my heart broke when she started to cry each time and call for her mommy. After they were finished with that, my brave little girl was happy again and said "bye bye ouchie" and smiled as best she could. She was calm and still for the nurse who did the three stitches. Her poor little face has a bandage that makes her look like she has a mustache to cover the stitches while they heal.
I am grateful that I have such a lovely, brave little girl and that Andy was home today from work and could be an extra set of hands when needed at the ER. Of course, he had to sit down afterwards and drink some juice once the scary parts were over. I love my man who gets a little woozy when it comes to medical procedures. Both of them did so good and were so brave, the nurse gave them Popsicles.
