Post-Its

My husband is the romantic in this house.  He has always been the romantic in our relationship, which dates back to me being 15 and him being 17.  So, it's been awhile.  

I'm way to boring and realistic to be romantic.  My brain just doesn't bend that way.  Instead, it bends towards sarcasm and practicality.  *what a lucky guy*

He wrote me poems, and letters, and brought me flowers.   And he never let my head-shaking and eye-rolling and smirky-smile deter him.  Because that's who he is.  He's goofy, and romantic, and willing to be vulnerable...my opposite.  Which is part of what has always made me drawn to him.  Pretty admirable qualities.  

This morning, I woke up to post-it notes on all sorts of objects all over the house.  Quirky little notes.  He leaves me notes fairly often, but today was excessive enough that our boys noticed.

As the boys (14, almost 13, and 10) funneled down the stairs this morning, they couldn't help but notice the yellow post-its.  They laughed and *mocked* a little, but before I knew it they were scrounging around the house gathering all MY notes.  Reading them aloud, and smiling.  Oh the smiling.  

One boy, my sarcastic one, said "Mom, you should do this for Dad" and all of us laughed.  Because they know me.  The thought of me doing it is literally laughable.  

Then that same boy said, "Dad leaves me notes sometimes."  And the others piped in with similar stories.  Notes in their trappers, lunch boxes, electronics.  

And we love those notes.

The youngest boy collected all the notes, and hung them in the door-way.  He even managed to find the one that I *thought* I had snagged before they saw it, because: Semi-inappropriate.  HA.  Cue the grossed-out snickering of boys.

It's funny how some little post-its can make such an impact.  And I won't be surprised at all someday, when they do the very same thing for their wives.  I just hope they have some snickering boys around when they do it. ;)

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Remember the Crazy

Last Wednesday it was about 7:10 PM and I was laying on the couch feeling pretty pleased with myself.  After all,  I'd gotten an email the prior week, from my oldest two boys' baseball coach indicating that our game for the night was rescheduled.  A free night.  *Sigh* They're pretty hard to come by.  So, I'd sent the boys over to prayer meeting with their Pastor/Dad while Lucy and I spent some quiet alone time at home.  

And then I got a text from a number I didn't recognize.

"Are you on your way to the game?" They asked.  Feeling pretty smart, I replied back something like "Nope, game rescheduled."

To which the number replied "That's next weeks game."

My bad.  

The game was scheduled to start in 5 minutes in a town about 10 miles away.  I jumped off the couch, ran the 27 steps to interrupt church in order to grab my 3 boys (2 of which are on the team.  The team functions with only one extra player, they sorta need them)

The boys (and my husband were super confused.)  As they get in the house I'm frantically telling them to get their baseball stuff on because MOM WAS WRONG AND THE GAME IS STARTING NOW!  

From there, chaos ensued.  

Mad dashing from upstairs to downstairs trying to find uniforms and cups and cleats and belts and socks and gloves and hats.  Tears were involved.  We couldn't find one boys jersey, he ended up wearing a blue football t-shirt (close enough) and no belt. 

As we drove down the highway (a leeetle faster than the speed limit) I apologized to the boys and tried to give them a little pep talk that it was going to be fine, no biggie that they were arriving a full inning late.  They weren't exactly convinced, but at least we weren't yelling at each other anymore and we were almost there.

As we pulled into town, I headed down the road that leads to the Little League diamond.  And that's where I passed the cop.  The cop I only noticed as our eyes met as we passed each other on the road.  And I knew.  

He drove a few blocks passed me, and then turned into a driveway.  "He's gonna pull me over," I said to the boys.

Silence. And flashing lights.

I pull over, and by the time the nice officer gets to my window I have my insurance and license ready for him.  I also have one boy who's in tears, and the other one giggling in the back.  If you know them in real life, you know which one is which. ;)  

I quickly confessed that I knew I was going too fast and apologized.  I'm pretty sure I blabbed about forgetting their game and now we were late blah blah blah.  A quick peak inside my messy mini van with four kids must have been enough to garner some sympathy.  

"I'm not giving you a ticket M'am, please slow down next time. I do need to go back to my car and log your information."

As he heads back to his car, I notice/remember that I'm am almost out of gas..unless fumes count.  I had meant to get it the day before and then decided to procrastinate til tomorrow, because I had no where to be "tomorrow."  Pffff. It's at this point that I wonder aloud if I should ask the officer to follow me to the diamond.  My oldest wasn't sure what would be worse, running out of gas or having a police escort.

I decided to gamble and try to make it.  Which we did.  

"We're like an episode of The Middle" one of the boys said.

He's right.  We are.  

As I settled in at the game, I decided to text Ben and let him know what all the chaos was about and to tell him to come (with a gas can) as soon as he could because I was seriously doubtful my trusty van could make it any further.  I couldn't get a hold of him.  Finally he called from our home phone and said he had lost his cell, but he would be coming with gas shortly.

What I didn't know til after I'd hung up my phone was that the game was almost over.  

In the end, we won the game by one run.  And my oldest pitched the last inning and struck all three batters out.  And, with friends following in their vehicles, we made it to the gas station and then home.  And Ben eventually figured out we must have made it home okay. ;)  By the end of the night, we had found his cell phone and all was right with the world.  Out little world anyways.

We learned a few lessons in the crazy.  Mainly, I should pay more attention to details in emails from coaches.  And not put off getting gas.  Or speed.  All of which I'm likely to repeat in the future...but the best part about it was to be able to laugh at it afterwards.  Sometimes the crazy is a good way to bond.  




this picture is not from the crazy day.  just a different day when I was annoying them with selfies.

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It's Good...

It's the first day of school here in tiny town.  You can't see me, but if you could:  I can't stop smiling.  And clapping and jumping up and down.

The kids were pretty happy too.  The truth is, we all know we need some structure and routine that involves more than annoying each other and Mincecraft.

Sixth. Fifth. Second.  

And Little Miss Lu will start 3 year old preschool on Friday.  

Maybe I should be sadder than I am.  But this stage in parenting is pretty neat.  And fairly enjoyable.  And while I'm sure the hardest years are still ahead of us (hello puberty)...the years are meant to come.  These kiddos are meant to grow and live life.  I mean, I'm sure I was a pretty rad 12 year old, but I'm pretty dang glad to have not stayed there.  So are my parents.

It's a gift to watch them grow.  It's a gift I'm not guaranteed or promised.  So, with each moment they grow, I'm going to embrace it the best I can.  And pray like crazy for God's grace to cover and fill and seep into every nook and cranny of all our lives.

And celebrate it with a venti iced caramel macchiato.  And two cake-pops.

Whatever.

And for the record:  I was a total rock-star mom today.  Got up early, made a healthy breakfast, remembered the First Day Photo shoot.  If only I could bottle me up to use again tomorrow...because it's likely that version of myself only shows up on First Days.

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Ironic...

So.  Last week I wrote this post on Words.  And then on Friday I got a call from my First Grade son's teacher about his choice of words.

Irony.

Oh Jake.  

Ben and I like to joke that Jake is (almost) 8 going on 80.  Like a grumpy old man in a young little body.  He's not easily amused or impressed, and on any given day he's pretty easily annoyed by whatever and whomever. And his "filter" is, well...we're working on that.  

It's just one of his quirks.  I like quirks in people, it's what makes us, us.  That being said, the kids has some great qualities too...and dimples.  Dimples are like my kryptonite.  All he has to do is smile... 

At school on Friday one of Jake's classmates declared that it was going to be a great weekend, which Jake then replied something to the effect of "I hope you have the worst weekend ever."  

When his teacher repeated what he said to me, I couldn't help but wish he'd been using some sarcasm...but he hadn't.  Jake was annoyed, and blurted what popped in his head.  

As I sat Jake down that afternoon to talk about it, I said that part of maturing was thinking about what we say before we say it.  Filter 101.   So we ask ourselves, Is this kind?  Is this helpful?

And in the back of my brain God is whispering, do you hear yourself?

And as a parent, I was disappointed that he chose those words...but I've also been there.  Or maybe I am there.  I'm 35 years old, and I've learned to filter thoughts when in public.  And, when you become a pastor's wife, God helps you install a double-filtration system for your tongue.  It's like a requirement. 

But at home...my filter is maybe not working so great.  I'm quick to tell the kids all the things I think they are not doing right. Without really filtering if it's kind and helpful in training them.   And I skip that part because I'm impatient and irritated. 

And that's not ok.

So in the parsonage, we are all working on: Is it Kind?  Is it helpful?  And guess what?

It. Is. Hard.

I was trying to explain to Jake that it's a problem we all struggle with, even grown ups.  But if we don't learn to tame our tongue we end up being rude and hurtful...and someone that people don't want to be around.  

And that got me thinking...maybe the people who don't bother to filter what they say drive me so crazy because the rest of us are doing the work to filter! The hard work.  It's like when I see people in pajama pants in public.  It's not so much that I hate the pajamas (ok, maybe I do) but that if the rest of society goes through the effort of putting on some pants, then so should they.

Wait...was that kind?  was that helpful?  Hmmm.  I'm not sure.  See, still working on that. ;)

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Playing Catch Up...

I hate playing catch up.  Do you?  It requires so much work.  Whether it's trying to catch up with people I've lost contact with (which I do, because I'm terrible at keeping in touch, unless you count Facebook as keeping in touch), or blogging...playing catch up is tiring.  And since my blogging in the past several months has been, shall we say, pathetic, I have a lot to catch up on.  And since "catching up" seems so not fun, I just do what I do best...procrastinate.  I'm like a professional at it these days.

It's impressive.  Except that it's not.

In blogging, and in life, I like to hit the ground right where I'm at.  I like to talk about what's going on now, not yesterday or last week...or months ago.  But I also can't leave this gaping whole in the last few months of our life in 2011.  After all, this blog...my blog is really for me.  To keep track of me...my life, my family, my God.  So I can process the now, and look back on the then and realize how good life really is.  It's a bonus when others join along on the journey...but I write for me...my grammar is hardly good enough to "write" for anyone else. ;)

So I don't forget:

The remodel/addition project started in June and is coming along steadily (it deserves it's own post soon), Noah played catcher on his 3rd grade little league team...and loved it, we went camping with friends, my family loved it and I didn't totally hate it, so we're good to go again next year, Lucy started walking in mid July, Noah went off to Jr. Boys camp for a week...and I survived., the first week of August was:  missionary friends from Brazil, Julie arriving back here, VBS, and missionary friends here to help for VBS.  We celebrated Jake's 6th birthday, and continued Eli's vision therapy (which also deserves it's own post)  We didn't get to the pool as often as we would have liked, but spend plenty of time there for swim lessons.  Eli being baptized.  Moved Julie into college just 15 minutes away. School started August 17th, and fall unofficially begins...for all practicality purposes.   My boys loooove AXE... Jake now calls deodorant "man smell"  and because of the awesomeness of that, the whole family calls it that.  All of that should have been about 45 posts.  But it's not.  And that's ok.

And what kind of  "cramming all things summer into one blog post" be without at least a few pictures?!?

Lucy's favorite shoes.

At the airport with Julie!

Lucy's personality keeps shining brighter and brighter ;)

Getting Julie ready for college.

Eli 3rd grade, Jake Kindergarten, Noah 4th grade...standing in the doorway of the new addition, because next year it will look so different!

There.  Caught up.  That wasn't so bad. :)

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The Moment

It feels like yesterday...that she was so tiny.

In two days she'll be 10 months old.  Last night, she started crawling on all fours.  And like always, I felt the surge of mixed emotions....excited for the next step and a nagging sadness over saying goodbye to yet another baby stage.

I have breathed in every moment of the last 10 months.  I can't say that about my first three babies...back then I didn't understand how fleeting the time was.  How I'd look at a baby one day, and a 3rd grader the next.  Wondering how their feet got so huge, without me even noticing.  How does that happen? I see him everyday.

I'm learning to breathe-in the moment.  No rushing it.  No trying to slow it.  Just living it.   The 3rd grader, the 2nd grader, the 5 year old, the baby.  Trying to embrace it, yet not hold on too tightly...because it's a moment.  They're meant to grow...I'm meant enjoy the moment and trust that God holds the future.  

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Of Course They Did...

I guarantee you, that this is in fact not how I meticulously arranged my nativity set.

I have a certain eight year old to thank for this lovely display of the baby Jesus' birth.  


Which led me to to sigh my most favorite expression as of late...of course they did...


Boys...they keep life interesting.  Everyone should have at least three.

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Welcome to Crazy

Lately I been thinking that enjoying life means celebrating the crazy.  This is not a new concept for me.  It's a big chunk of the reason I started blogging in the first place (597 posts of crazy, by the way!)  


And boy, do we have plenty of it.  Crazy, that is.  Yesterday I started a list of the most current crazy.  I was gonna hit ya all with the list, bullet form, and then I thought waaaiit a second.  I need to spread this stuff out...people can only take so much at a time.  


Let's start with Halloween...


Halloween fell on a Sunday this year, and tiny-town chose to trick or treat that evening.  We have church at night, so we knew we'd be able to hand out candy for an hour and then we'd head the 27 steps over to church.  In order for kids to come to our home to trick or treat, I put the boys on pooper scooper duty.  Armed with the new scooper, gloves, and a plastic bag and bin they were ready to pick up poo.  I supervised out the window for awhile and they seemed to be doing a good enough job.  


I went back to my business of eating all the kit kats before trick or treaters came.  


Later on, Ben went outside to see if they'd got it all.  They'd missed some.  They'd missed a lot, actually...mostly the old hard ones.  Gross, I know.  But Life in the Parsonage involves dog poop.  Anyways, Ben and I looked at each other sort of dumb-founded.  Because, really...wouldn't you pick those first because they're kinda easy to get....rather than the new, slimy fresh piles?!?   


Not our kids.


Oh, it gets better.  


Turns out, after they'd picked up all the "fresh" piles and put them into the cheap garbage bag I'd given them, they headed through the parking lot of the church on their way to the garage bin.  


Of course they did.


That route is completely unnecessary by the way.


The poor cheap garbage bag never stood a chance as the boy swung it back and forth over the gravel parking lot of the church, where our lovely church family would be coming shortly to park and innocently walk through in order to get to their place of worship.  


I blame myself really.  Who in their right mind stops supervising three boys while they're messing with dog poo?  


That would be me.  


Some people never learn.  *wink*

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2015

Last night, during midweek church, Noah doodled this picture.  


It's his interpretation of the first day of school...five years from now.


2015.

Oh kid.  He cracks me up.  He's a stickler for details.  


However, what's up with my hair-do in five years!?!


It's the first time he's drawn my profile with boobs.  *sniff*  He's growing up.  Don't tell him I told you. *smile*

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They're Destined to be Car Salesmen...

As I write this, my boys are out in the front yard selling produce from their garden.

"Selling" involves walking up and down the sidewalk yelling "Produce for sale! Get your produce! First customer gets a free bouncy ball!"

Can you even believe that they haven't had one customer yet?!? I mean, who wouldn't want a free bouncy ball?

We do live in tiny town...so traffic is a little slow this time of day. However I'm sure the neighbors will be stopping by to shut them up show their support.

In the mean time, I have a to-do list a mile long.  First up:  Give Gus another bath.  It turns out, that Google (my source of information on any and everything) says that Hounds have a "distinct odor."  I can verify this to be true, it's distinctly smelly.

Bath time.  

Happy Thursday people, and if you'd be so kind, leave a comment and say hello.  Lately, I sorta feel like I'm just talking to myself...and I'm quite a bore.   Speak up and entertain me.

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I Found Her a Husband

Guess who Lucy and I got to have coffee with.


Seriously, just take a guess.


Click here to meet Lucy's future husband.  There's a picture involved.  But then, you must come back here so I can finish my story.  I'll wait.


So.  Here's the story.  Five years ago we move to tiny town so Ben can make me a Pastor's wife.  In our tiny church is a lovely family who also has three boys.  The mom's name is Trish.  Trish has a sister named Wendi who lives far far away but comes back a couple times a year for a visit.  I get to meet her.  She's very nice.  She also has boys.


A couple years go by and myself and Wendi discovers the wonder that is blog land.  We blog.  We become real life acquaintances and even better blog friends.  It's fun stuff.  


Then, Wendi has a baby boy, and I have a baby girl and they both have hair.  They must marry each other (obviously)  so that we can all live happily ever after.


What about the other 6 boys between the two of us, you ask?  So glad you asked.  If you have girls, we'll start taking applications.  It's never too early.  Hair is not required.  ;)

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Pictures...

A week or so ago I tried to share some amazing pics with you...but my computer idiotness defeated me.  But today I triumphed.  Can I get a Yipee from anyone?!?  

Yipee!!!  

All the pictures are courtesy of my friend Sarah.  Sarah and her family are on deputation to be missionaries in Germany.  We met last Summer, through blogging and mutual friends.  Then in August they came to tiny town to our little church to share their ministry.  And we got to meet.  And became instant friends.  After Lucy was born, she took these amazing pictures as a gift to us.  I love them.  And I love her.  And, if you go check her blog(s) out, you will love her too.  I promise.

Now...on to the "aww-ing"  (because isn't that what we all do when we see cute pictures?) 

You can click on the pics to see them larger...

Even Odie got in on it ;)

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I Don't Want to Forget...

Part of the reason I blog is so that I can look back and actually remember some of the seemingly insignificant things. Over the past two years, it's the things that seemed unimportant at the time that end up making me smile the most.

We have forty-some days until our family changes forever. While we're all excited and anticipating the baby's arrival, we're also enjoying the last days of life as we know it.

Here's the some of the things I don't want to forget...

Jakob: I sometimes wish I could keep you 4 1/2 forever. You are smart as a whip, which gets you into trouble sometimes. You wipe off every kiss your daddy and I give you, all the while smiling and giggling. You love to draw and create things. I'm forever picking up your markers, tape, and scraps of paper, only to find you've gotten them back out a few minutes later. You've become a mommy's boy lately. Last week I was sitting on the couch and you were at the table while daddy was goofing around in the kitchen telling us things he was thankful for. You announced that you were thankful that your mom was so beautiful...and you melted my heart. I love you little man.

Eli: Your seven year old, easy-going personality is completely endearing. We spend many hours a week together, sitting at the table, practicing reading, sight words, and spelling. Sometimes there's tears and frustration, and sometimes there's laughter and joy over your accomplishments. No matter what, we're on this learning journey together. You have an amazing ability to look at the bright side of life. You're a dreamer...and to this realist, you often make me smile...or shake my head. Last week you hopped in the van after school and informed me you were going to make a car out of wood and then drive it to California to make a movie. Alrighty then. You constantly run around the house in bare feet, shorts, and t-shirts. It makes me cold just looking at you. I've given up asking you to put on a sweatshirt. Your latest fashion trend of choice is sweat-bands. You wear them everyday. You're convinced they're very cool, and we believe you. I love you little man.

Noah: You remind me of myself in many ways. You are a first-born through and through. You will be almost nine years old when this new baby arrives and already you are looking out for it. You take pride in a job well done. When you put your mind to something, there is absolutely nothing that is going to distract you from it. I loved watching football with you on Sundays...and listening to stats you'd learned. Our mutual love for the Packers and disdain for the Vikings has caused some major mom/son bonding. You are always planning and looking ahead to the future. You are thoughtful and considerate. This week you came home from school, concerned that the new boy in class did not have boots and snowpants, which then caused him to have to stand by the wall at recess. You made sure to hunt around the basement for some extra pairs and then carried them to school, just in case he didn't have them the next day. Your teacher and I couldn't help but hug you. You wear a red rubber bracelet on your right wrist, everyday, to help you remember to pray for a cure for cancer for your good buddy, Tate. I love you little man.

Can't wait to see what the next addition is like :)

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The Things He Does...

How my four year old eats a Grapefruit...unsupervised.

Take a wild guess who's not allowed in the fridge without supervision. If only that worked...

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Goodbye Long Week...

I love Fridays. I do I do I do. I like the counting down of hours until BAM I'm done with all of my obligations (except the family ones) and the only thing that lies ahead is two days of freedom. OK, so that's a slight exaggeration, but you know what I mean.

Friday nights are sort of our Family Date Nights. Sometimes it's a high school sporting event or something like that. The favorite though seems to be what we did last Friday night...dinner at McDonald's and then rented a movie to watch together. The boys love to turn off all the lights and pretend it's a movie theatre. We all cram on the couch...including the over-weight wiener dog who seems to think the couch belongs to him. They love it. I love it. It's a moment in the week where we just get to enjoy each other. So many other moments I'm just funneling them through what they need to do and where they need to be.

Wake up, get dressed, eat breakfast, stop running around the house, brush your teeth, get your shoes on, make sure you have your homework, have a great day at school, pick kids up, drop kids off, supper, homework, blah blah blah. I sound like a load of fun, don't I?

Our date nights are cheap, and the activities are really sort of insignificant. But I'm gonna treasure them...and I think they will too.

All too soon they will have different kinds of date nights...probably with girls I think are immature and annoying. Oh I'm kidding. No, I take that back...I am so not kidding...I'm certain I'll think they're annoying *wink*

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The Bald Buddies

The Bald Buddies

When I think back to when I was a kid, there are certain events that just stick. Occasions that I'll always remember. Saturday night, after their flag football game will be one of those moments for my boys.

When we moved to tiny town four years ago, Tate (red shirt, 2nd from right)was one of the first friends Noah made. To meet Tate is to love him, it's pretty much that simple. This Summer Tate found out that he has Hodgkin's Lymphoma stage 3. The fight is on. As the boys learned about Chemo, and why it was necessary to make Tate better, they learned that it was likely Tate would lose his hair. Without batting an eye, the boys were certain they should shave their heads too so that Tate didn't have to do it alone.

Kids are amazing little creatures. As I heard of Tate's diagnosis, my first thought was how unfair it was. I wrestle with the reality of it, almost unable to wrap my head around it, yet those boys...they just knew they needed to join him, to let him know he's not in it alone.

And that's what they did.

Ben shaved the heads of eight little boys Saturday night. It was a night filled with laughter...I'm pretty sure all of tiny town heard us. It's a night none of us will forget.

This morning, as my bald headed little boys hurried to find stocking hats to cover their cold heads, I smiled, wishing I could be in the classroom today as those bald headed little guys arrived, smiling about the way they now feel bonded together. Bald Buddies.

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Truth With Dirt On His Face

I find myself wandering around this morning trying to figure out where to start on the "to-do" list that I seem to keep making longer rather than shorter.

What's up with that?

It seems that whenever I get started one of my boys needs something, broke something, needs something cleaned up, or put together...on and on and on. Many times, at the end of the day, I wonder what the heck I even accomplished. This is mostly because I really only accomplish 5 different things....but I did each of those 5 things FIVE ZILLION TIMES.

The refereeing alone...

Sometimes it feels like I'm treading water. Going nowhere, but at least keeping my head afloat. When I stop and really look at my boys, and how much they're growing...physically, emotionally, intellectually and spiritually I realize that life may often feel like I'm treading water, but I'm not. It's always moving forward. I can't slow it or stop it. But I can enjoy it.

This morning after my run (yay for Mondays I LOVE 2 mile short runs) I logged onto facebook and found a link from Michelle, a bloggy-turned-facebook-friend who happens to have the opposite of me. Three girls. I think we should consider arranged marriages. Go visit her and peek at my future daughters-in-law...she has the cutest girls ;)

Want to know what my life is like? Click here. It made me happy cry this morning...because this is my life...times three :)

It's a good (& messy) life!

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Let's Take it in Small Bites...

The Parsonage family took a little vacation. Finally. We headed North to Minnesota...the cities...as we like to call it. We called the cities home for the first 5 years of our marriage/seminary experience. They were some good times.

There are a few reasons why we don't "holiday" often. (That's what the Europeans call it instead of vacation and I am stealing it because it just sounds classy;)

1 - It costs a lot of $.

2 - I hate packing

3- We're traveling with this:

Well, minus the dog barking, we left the dog

with my parents...thank you parents ;)

We were able to stay with my aunt and her family. She is the best hostess ever. She even biked alongside me on my 7 mile run Saturday morning...you can't get that kind of dedication at any hotel...especially for free ;)

Our first stop was the reason for our trip...the wedding of one of the girls that was in our youth group. I once did a Bible Study with just the youth girls, called When God Writes Your Love Story. We spent much time discussing what made a good husband, and what it meant to let God write your love story. I remember threatening mentioning that each one had better invite me to their wedding someday so I could see the man that I had been praying for, for them. As we sat in the third row Saturday, and listened to the young man read his vows he'd written to her I couldn't help but cry. He is exactly the kind of man we'd prayed for for Nikole. Nikole took God's Word seriously, even when obeying it seemed painful...and God was faithful.

(he's washing her feet...I've never seen that at a wedding, but the picture of servant hood was perfect)

And our boys at the reception...wishing they were anywhere else *smile*

I think that might be all the vacation you can handle for one day... at least it is for me. I'm off to pick up Odie.

Happy Monday.

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It's a Love/Hate Thing...

It is finally nice outside here. Really nice. Finally! I'm actually able to remember why on earth I choose to live in this part of the country. It is days like today :)

The niceness outside has brought the sandbox back into my life. I have a love/hate relationship with the sandbox.

We have a big one out back. Ben's dad built it and each year he comes and dumps another truckload of sand in it, because *surprise* half the sand manages to disappear.

Guess where it disappears to...

Yep.

I love the sandbox, I really do. It occupies the boys for hours. And what is cuter than three little brothers screaming at each other over who just wrecked whose bridge?!? The problem is, the sand is never really dry. Which is exactly the way my boys prefer it. Apparently it needs a little water to make it fun. I've lost count of the times I've gone outside to see the hose sticking out of the sandbox...water filled to the brim.

Dry sand would be easy. Brushes right off. Wet sand...not so much.

WHAT IS A GIRL TO DO?!?! TELL ME! Because my mud room looks like THIS:

Don't ya just love the bike INSIDE. Nice.

Today I bought this at our local CVS in the "As see on TV" section. It better work. It better work like a miracle.

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It's Back

It's been awhile since I posted my beloved bullet point lists...and I thought to myself, self, I'm sure your readers are longing for some bullet points...

And I aim to please.

• I left ya hanging a little yesterday with my deeply profound statement. *cough*  Never fear, I'm working on more of it...but I actually am putting a little effort into it (shocking, I know) It will come...eventually.
• Church stuff gives me a lot of fodder for posts that would be quite entertaining...unfortunately, it would also be inappropriate.  Boo.
• Yesterday, a church member stopped by to discuss some funeral luncheon arrangements, as we sat in my living room, amongst piles of laundry (because I didn't know she was stopping) Jake and his friend James were busy playing upstairs.  Twenty minutes or so later I heard the splashing of water.  Turns out they were carrying tubs of WATER from the bathroom to Jake's bedroom (no idea why) and it all ended up in the hallway on the lovely gold shag carpeting.  Needless to say I looked like the worlds best pastor's wife, mom, house keeper and day care provider.  It was a shining moment ;)
• Jake and James are now banned from upstairs...they get to remain where I can keep my eye on them at all times. 
• My son is the instigator.  For sure. 
• Is it possible to miss someone you've never met?  This is a question I've been thinking about after Julie said something to the effect that it was weird that she felt like she missed us, even though we've never met in person. She made my day saying that, because I feel the same way!  We're connected now, through the miracle of technology.  And can't wait till she can be here and physically be a part of our family.  Without a doubt God hand-picked her for this crazy adventure.
• Life seems to be moving in fast forward lately...I'm wishing there were a pause button so I could stop and take a nap for a little bit before hitting play again.
• Happy Thursday!

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