Hand in hand, Jory and I walk out of the Target in Culver City, the Old one not the new one or the mall Target. He happily carried the bag and was chatting away about something. I looked at him in disbelief and adoration. Out of all the kids God could have given me He blessed me with this wonderfully funny, intelligent, loving, considerate, boys boy that I call Jory.
How much does God love me that He blessed me with this little boy? Since the moment He began this thing we call “time” He knew Jory would be mine and I would be his. And I thank Him for giving me not what I wanted, which was a girl after having three nephews, but what I needed, a baby boy.
Once upon a time, when I was a little girl playing house at Redeemer, I always wanted a son first so he could be a big brother and look out for his younger siblings. I definitely got that in spades.
As we walked in the moonlight and he tried to convince me that he needed Burger King for dinner, I thought I am truly, madly deeply in love with this little person.
Friday, July 29, 2011
Songs
“Mommy, can you play the song for me?” Jory asked as we were walking to the car.
“What song, Jory?” I asked, puzzled.
“Give me the beat boys /and free my soul/I wanna get lost in your rock and roll/
and drift away,” he sang.
What? How in the world does he know that song? My gosh, those little ears soak up everything. And what in the world was the name of the song?
I asked the saleswoman at JCPenney’s, Mona, which I knew was pointless, tried to think of other people who would be home and could answer the question. I scored with Mr. Brad, a quick internet search and we were in business. Though I was still thrown as to when and where Jory heard the song enough to sing it to me and know the lyrics.
“What song, Jory?” I asked, puzzled.
“Give me the beat boys /and free my soul/I wanna get lost in your rock and roll/
and drift away,” he sang.
What? How in the world does he know that song? My gosh, those little ears soak up everything. And what in the world was the name of the song?
I asked the saleswoman at JCPenney’s, Mona, which I knew was pointless, tried to think of other people who would be home and could answer the question. I scored with Mr. Brad, a quick internet search and we were in business. Though I was still thrown as to when and where Jory heard the song enough to sing it to me and know the lyrics.
I hear yesterday a lot
"Did you brush your teeth, Layla?" I asked.
"Yes," she replied.
Really? "When?"
"Yesterday," she answered, brushing the hair out of her face, "I brush my teeth, yesterday."
I could explain the difference between yesterday and today, but why bother.
"Layla, brush your hair," I called out.
"I did already," she responded.
I've just saw the little girl and that hair hadn't seen a brush. "When did you brush your hair?"
"Yesterday. I brushed my hair yesterday, Mommy."
A lot of things happen on yesterday.
"Yes," she replied.
Really? "When?"
"Yesterday," she answered, brushing the hair out of her face, "I brush my teeth, yesterday."
I could explain the difference between yesterday and today, but why bother.
"Layla, brush your hair," I called out.
"I did already," she responded.
I've just saw the little girl and that hair hadn't seen a brush. "When did you brush your hair?"
"Yesterday. I brushed my hair yesterday, Mommy."
A lot of things happen on yesterday.
Kids and Cars
We were sitting in the car, chillin’ mind our business, when the following happened:
“Shake it for me, baby/Shake it for me, baby- -“ the baby sang before Rowan interrupted her.
“No, baby, it’s ‘Shake it for me, girl/Shake it for me, girl/Shake it for me’” the elder of the Irish twins corrected.
“Shake it for me, girl/Shake it for me, girl/Shake it for me,” they sang together.
I thought about explaining how that wasn’t an appropriate song to sing, particularly when Jory joined in, but I figured they are young and innocent and how could you not pick up on the catchy tune and I let it go.
Oh the things you hear when you’re in the car with your kids.
“Shake it for me, baby/Shake it for me, baby- -“ the baby sang before Rowan interrupted her.
“No, baby, it’s ‘Shake it for me, girl/Shake it for me, girl/Shake it for me’” the elder of the Irish twins corrected.
“Shake it for me, girl/Shake it for me, girl/Shake it for me,” they sang together.
I thought about explaining how that wasn’t an appropriate song to sing, particularly when Jory joined in, but I figured they are young and innocent and how could you not pick up on the catchy tune and I let it go.
Oh the things you hear when you’re in the car with your kids.
Monday, July 25, 2011
Questions
Yesterday, we had lunch with my old boss/friend, Marian. When Marian graciously went to move her car so we could park in her parking spot, Jory thought this would be the perfect time to question me.
“Mommy, is she my mother?”
“What?” I asked, not sure if I heard him correctly as I tried to find the baby’s bathing suit.
“Is she my mother?” he asked, quietly.
Now I really can’t hear him. “What are you asking, man?”
“Nothing,” he answered.
“Were you trying to ask me if Marian is your birth mother?” That had to be what he was asking.
“Yes,” he said.
“No, she’s not your birth mother.” It would be quite a feat for our sixty-nine Jewish friend to be your birth mother though.
“Who’s my birth mother?” he continued.
Oh crap. It starts with a “M”, but Marian’s name was the only M name I could come up with. It was there, on the tip of my tongue. “Marlene. Your birth mother’s name is Marlene.”
“Does she know me?”
“She hasn’t seen you since you were a tiny little baby, so she doesn’t know you now that you are a big boy.”
And scene. So interesting how these questions pop up, I answer them, and then it’s on to the next subject.
“Mommy, is she my mother?”
“What?” I asked, not sure if I heard him correctly as I tried to find the baby’s bathing suit.
“Is she my mother?” he asked, quietly.
Now I really can’t hear him. “What are you asking, man?”
“Nothing,” he answered.
“Were you trying to ask me if Marian is your birth mother?” That had to be what he was asking.
“Yes,” he said.
“No, she’s not your birth mother.” It would be quite a feat for our sixty-nine Jewish friend to be your birth mother though.
“Who’s my birth mother?” he continued.
Oh crap. It starts with a “M”, but Marian’s name was the only M name I could come up with. It was there, on the tip of my tongue. “Marlene. Your birth mother’s name is Marlene.”
“Does she know me?”
“She hasn’t seen you since you were a tiny little baby, so she doesn’t know you now that you are a big boy.”
And scene. So interesting how these questions pop up, I answer them, and then it’s on to the next subject.
He walked up
to me and he asked me if I wanted to dance…
No, he didn’t, but he did give me something completely unexpected - - a ring.
YIIPPEEE!!!!
No, he didn’t, but he did give me something completely unexpected - - a ring.
YIIPPEEE!!!!
Daddies
We were sitting in a circle reading our devotional book. We were reading about Sarah’s and Abraham’s disbelief that they were going to have a baby in their old age. As I concluded the reading, Jory made a declaration.
“We don’t have a daddy!” he shouted.
“Yeah, we don’t have a daddy!” Rowan joined in.
“I have a daddy at my house,” Layla added.
Still not sure who this daddy or daddies are that live at her house, but that’s for another day.
“Everyone has a father,” I stated.
“We don’t have a daddy!” Jory repeated.
“We don’t have a daddy!” Rowan said on the heels on her brother’s statement.
“Everyone has a birth mother and a birth father, but they don’t always live with their daddy,” I said, thinking off the top of my head. “Umm, look at Jesus, He didn’t live with His Daddy.” Kinda? He didn’t live with God, per se. I couldn’t think of one person in the Bible who didn’t live with his dad. Though I’ve never heard of the Pharaoh’s daughter having a husband when she adopted Moses. I’ll have to find some people to mention to them next time this comes up.
“We don’t have a daddy!” he shouted.
“Yeah, we don’t have a daddy!” Rowan joined in.
“I have a daddy at my house,” Layla added.
Still not sure who this daddy or daddies are that live at her house, but that’s for another day.
“Everyone has a father,” I stated.
“We don’t have a daddy!” Jory repeated.
“We don’t have a daddy!” Rowan said on the heels on her brother’s statement.
“Everyone has a birth mother and a birth father, but they don’t always live with their daddy,” I said, thinking off the top of my head. “Umm, look at Jesus, He didn’t live with His Daddy.” Kinda? He didn’t live with God, per se. I couldn’t think of one person in the Bible who didn’t live with his dad. Though I’ve never heard of the Pharaoh’s daughter having a husband when she adopted Moses. I’ll have to find some people to mention to them next time this comes up.
Moms rock!
I woke up with a headache. I took some drugs and had a Coke. Still it persisted. I ate Jory’s sandwich, his watermelon. Still it persisted. Then I ate Rowan’s sandwich (I made them a lunch they didn’t need since their morning behavior ix-nayed them from going on their school’s field trip.). But it was still there and remained for the whole day.
All I wanted to do was go home, feed the kids, bathe them, and put them to bed by 8PM. I got home and must have acted like I was in pain, which I was. My mom asked if I was alright and I told her I had a headache and I just wanted to power through the evening.
We went through dinner quickly and effectively. When the kids were too loud, I reminded them mommy’s head hurt.
They bathed one after the other, then it was time for bed. I eased into bed and tried to find the right side to sleep on. Rowan crawled into bed with me.
“Go get your brother and sister and tell them it’s time to go to bed,” I said to her.
“Okay, Mommy,” she responded and took off.
A few minutes later, she came back and said, “They aren’t coming.”
I couldn’t yell. I couldn’t get out of bed. “Go tell them I said, ‘Come now.’” Then I hear Oma telling Rowan to come and get some French fries. Really?! They just brushed their teeth and now she’s giving them French fries.
“Mommy, I’m going to go get us some French fries,” she informed me and left.
Ah, my sweet big girl. Always so kind and generous and willing to share, unless it’s a toy she feels the baby took from her.
Rowan came back and shared her French fry with me. Then she offered me a bite of her cookie.
I wished my mom would stop feeding them so I could get them to go to bed, so she could rest without the kids running around.
Then I heard her say to TTT, “Do you like people bothering you when you don’t feel good? Do you like them being loud?”
Aww, we were both trying to take care of each other. I was trying to get the kids in bed so she could relax without them running around. And she was trying to keep them out of my room so I could rest without them. I love that woman, even if she did dump the baby in the bed in the middle of the night.
Moms rock!
All I wanted to do was go home, feed the kids, bathe them, and put them to bed by 8PM. I got home and must have acted like I was in pain, which I was. My mom asked if I was alright and I told her I had a headache and I just wanted to power through the evening.
We went through dinner quickly and effectively. When the kids were too loud, I reminded them mommy’s head hurt.
They bathed one after the other, then it was time for bed. I eased into bed and tried to find the right side to sleep on. Rowan crawled into bed with me.
“Go get your brother and sister and tell them it’s time to go to bed,” I said to her.
“Okay, Mommy,” she responded and took off.
A few minutes later, she came back and said, “They aren’t coming.”
I couldn’t yell. I couldn’t get out of bed. “Go tell them I said, ‘Come now.’” Then I hear Oma telling Rowan to come and get some French fries. Really?! They just brushed their teeth and now she’s giving them French fries.
“Mommy, I’m going to go get us some French fries,” she informed me and left.
Ah, my sweet big girl. Always so kind and generous and willing to share, unless it’s a toy she feels the baby took from her.
Rowan came back and shared her French fry with me. Then she offered me a bite of her cookie.
I wished my mom would stop feeding them so I could get them to go to bed, so she could rest without the kids running around.
Then I heard her say to TTT, “Do you like people bothering you when you don’t feel good? Do you like them being loud?”
Aww, we were both trying to take care of each other. I was trying to get the kids in bed so she could relax without them running around. And she was trying to keep them out of my room so I could rest without them. I love that woman, even if she did dump the baby in the bed in the middle of the night.
Moms rock!
Bossy mothers
It was time for our evening walk, but only Jory and the baby were outside.
“Where’s Rowan?” I inquired.
“She’s in the house,” Jory answered as he got back on Rowan’s scooter. “Oma made her go inside.”
Ahh, she’s in trouble. Okay, then I guess it was just me and my oldest and youngest babies going on a walk. “Let’s go guys!”
Jory quickly scooted out the gate as the baby walked her scooter out the gate.
At the bottom of the driveway, Oma said, “Baby, go get Rowan.”
“Oma, she not listening. She can’t go on a walk,” the baby reminded her grandmother.
“Baby, go get Rowan,” Oma commanded.
“She not listening,” she repeated, in case Oma didn’t hear her or get it the first time.
“Go get her now,” Oma stated with a steely look.
“Okay,” the baby said, as she moved away from her scooter to go get her sister out of the house.
There are some moments I look at the baby and just shake my head. Bossy, little thing, repeating everything she hears.
“Where’s Rowan?” I inquired.
“She’s in the house,” Jory answered as he got back on Rowan’s scooter. “Oma made her go inside.”
Ahh, she’s in trouble. Okay, then I guess it was just me and my oldest and youngest babies going on a walk. “Let’s go guys!”
Jory quickly scooted out the gate as the baby walked her scooter out the gate.
At the bottom of the driveway, Oma said, “Baby, go get Rowan.”
“Oma, she not listening. She can’t go on a walk,” the baby reminded her grandmother.
“Baby, go get Rowan,” Oma commanded.
“She not listening,” she repeated, in case Oma didn’t hear her or get it the first time.
“Go get her now,” Oma stated with a steely look.
“Okay,” the baby said, as she moved away from her scooter to go get her sister out of the house.
There are some moments I look at the baby and just shake my head. Bossy, little thing, repeating everything she hears.
Wednesday, July 20, 2011
I love coming...
home and noticing that the baby has on different clothes then the clothes she dressed in in the morning.
“Mommy, I pee peed in your room,” she informed me, when I asked her about the wardrobe change.
Happy, happy, joy, joy. I let it go and went about our new nightly routine.
At the unusually early hour of 9:15, I send everyone off to bed.
“Mommy, the bed is wet,” Rowan yelled out.
What? The bed is wet? I walked into the room as the four-year-old climbed back on the bed to point out the wet spot. Sure enough the spot she shows me is wet. I turned to look at Layla who was standing next to me.
“Did you pee in the bed?” I asked.
She nodded.
“Why?”
“I like peeing on myself,” she answered.
“You do not like to pee on yourself. You’re not going to go on a walk,” I informed her.
“No, no! I wanna go on a walk, Mommy,” she cried.
“You have to act like a big girl. Big girls don’t pee pee on themselves.”
“I not going to pee on myself anymore, Mommy.”
Let’s pray not. Based on where the bed was wet, I assume her aunt put her down for a nap and didn’t no a sleeping Layla needs a pull-up or diaper. So now the bed was wet, including the comforter. The washer and dryer have been disconnected to make room for their new home. There were no spare mattress covers and who knew where the spare sheets and blankets were.
I threw a towel over the wet spot and decided tonight everyone would lay crossways on the bed and Jory could sleep in his sleeping bag on the floor. I guessed the up part was that only two other people would be sleeping with me.
“Mommy, I pee peed in your room,” she informed me, when I asked her about the wardrobe change.
Happy, happy, joy, joy. I let it go and went about our new nightly routine.
At the unusually early hour of 9:15, I send everyone off to bed.
“Mommy, the bed is wet,” Rowan yelled out.
What? The bed is wet? I walked into the room as the four-year-old climbed back on the bed to point out the wet spot. Sure enough the spot she shows me is wet. I turned to look at Layla who was standing next to me.
“Did you pee in the bed?” I asked.
She nodded.
“Why?”
“I like peeing on myself,” she answered.
“You do not like to pee on yourself. You’re not going to go on a walk,” I informed her.
“No, no! I wanna go on a walk, Mommy,” she cried.
“You have to act like a big girl. Big girls don’t pee pee on themselves.”
“I not going to pee on myself anymore, Mommy.”
Let’s pray not. Based on where the bed was wet, I assume her aunt put her down for a nap and didn’t no a sleeping Layla needs a pull-up or diaper. So now the bed was wet, including the comforter. The washer and dryer have been disconnected to make room for their new home. There were no spare mattress covers and who knew where the spare sheets and blankets were.
I threw a towel over the wet spot and decided tonight everyone would lay crossways on the bed and Jory could sleep in his sleeping bag on the floor. I guessed the up part was that only two other people would be sleeping with me.
TTT and Me
in the bed together all night or until Jory gets up and goes to sleep with Oma is slowly killing me. Sometime during the day I start feeling tired, like I haven't gotten enough rest. Hmm, wonder why that is? Though for the three worst sleepers in the world, they have kept their bad sleeping habits to a minimum. I guess with only one bed available in the house, their brains recognize they shouldn't start sleeping crazy.
The First Carnival
After church we went home and I ran into the house with a car full of sleeping kids and told Oma to let’s go to JCP to return the curtains and while you’re doing that I’ll check out the price of the carnival they have there.
Somehow when we got there, it was decided I should return the curtains and check out the carnival while she and the kids sat in the car. Okay and like clockwork as I was getting out of the car, the baby woke up and started crying and asking if she could go with me. I told her I would be right back and left the crying baby to be dealt with by Oma.
The carnival - - Good grief, why are those things so expensive? Thirty tickets for $25. Okay, I’ll take that except every ride requires three to four tickets. Are you kidding me?! But it was the first time, my kids had ever been to a carnival and I had always been meaning to take them to one so I went for it. I bought the tickets, then ran inside JCPenney’s to return the curtains. When I made it back to the car, Jory and Oma were trying to get the double stroller open and everyone was out the car.
I showed them how to open it, then Jory got in the car and changed into shorts, then we were off. Thirty tickets doesn’t get you far when the rides for Jory, who was too big for the rides the girls went on, and too little for the big kid rides, required four tickets; and it was six tickets for the girls to ride. So I found myself back at the booth buying more tickets. I was particularly annoyed when we got to the Ferris Wheel and saw that you had to ride with a partner and another kid Jory’s age and size couldn’t be his partner so I had to use eight tickets so Oma could ride with him.
But as we were waiting for Oma and Jory to get off the wheel, I picked up the baby and kissed her face as she giggled and Rowan happily sucked her thumb and watched the Ferris Wheel. As I snuggled with Layla, enjoyed the weather, I prayed that my TTT would have days like these with their own children and that they could remember this day forever.
Somehow when we got there, it was decided I should return the curtains and check out the carnival while she and the kids sat in the car. Okay and like clockwork as I was getting out of the car, the baby woke up and started crying and asking if she could go with me. I told her I would be right back and left the crying baby to be dealt with by Oma.
The carnival - - Good grief, why are those things so expensive? Thirty tickets for $25. Okay, I’ll take that except every ride requires three to four tickets. Are you kidding me?! But it was the first time, my kids had ever been to a carnival and I had always been meaning to take them to one so I went for it. I bought the tickets, then ran inside JCPenney’s to return the curtains. When I made it back to the car, Jory and Oma were trying to get the double stroller open and everyone was out the car.
I showed them how to open it, then Jory got in the car and changed into shorts, then we were off. Thirty tickets doesn’t get you far when the rides for Jory, who was too big for the rides the girls went on, and too little for the big kid rides, required four tickets; and it was six tickets for the girls to ride. So I found myself back at the booth buying more tickets. I was particularly annoyed when we got to the Ferris Wheel and saw that you had to ride with a partner and another kid Jory’s age and size couldn’t be his partner so I had to use eight tickets so Oma could ride with him.
But as we were waiting for Oma and Jory to get off the wheel, I picked up the baby and kissed her face as she giggled and Rowan happily sucked her thumb and watched the Ferris Wheel. As I snuggled with Layla, enjoyed the weather, I prayed that my TTT would have days like these with their own children and that they could remember this day forever.
CHEA
My first CHEA experience was last year. I met up with Deeds and she took me around the great Exhibition Hall where are the vendors were selling their products. Wow! That was overwhelming, but it was nice to have an experienced mom at my side.
This year it was all me. I saw people I knew, even hung out with some cool couples. This year I made it to two encouraging and informative speakers. After lunch, I decided to tackle the Exhibition Hall all by my lonesome. It was good, a little overwhelming and ooh so tempting.
I was so tempted to buy all four Carmen Sandiego games. If only I knew an eight-year-old boy. I thought about buying it for the future, but I resisted. They had this cute little airplane and thought about it as a Christmas present, but I walked away and said I’d come back. When I came back the vendor’s area was so busy I couldn’t ask any questions so I took that as God’s sign that Jory didn’t need it.
I think I didn’t know the right questions to ask at Sonlight though I thought I did. I left their booth still feeling unsettled by things. I moved on to Math-U-See. That was a lot easier, even if the worker wasn’t very helpful or friendly. I walked around, looking, then I came upon the Doorpost both just as the worker was talking about a book they sold. The book looked overwhelming to both me and the woman who was getting the sales pitch. But the mini-posters about having good attitudes and being helpful around the house and how to settle a dispute with your brother, appealed to both of us. So when the house is finished, I will have posters to put on doors that we can go to when we misbehave or behave splendidly.
After all my walking around and not being able to find the Abeka, which I know I saw earlier, I decided it was time to head home. I passed a man who stopped me and asked me if I knew where CHEA was. I pointed him in the right direction, which then led him to ask me, “Did I know what was happening in the world?” I’m such a sucker for older people who want to talk at times. I don’t know a polite way to get away. So for the next fifteen to twenty minutes, I heard about how all the media is lying to us and what the government is slowly morphing into. Trust me, in his opinion the country is going to hell in a hand basket.
I didn’t share with Him my thoughts which are: 1. God is in control; and 2. we asked for this, our ancestors those brilliant, fun loving Israelites were like, “Oh come on, God, why can’t we have a king like those heathens have? Why can’t we have another sinner rule over us? Come on, God, don’t be a hater.” God gave us what we wanted and here we are.
So that was CHEA, hopefully next year I’ll have a friend with me and a better understanding of how it all works, and what I need.
This year it was all me. I saw people I knew, even hung out with some cool couples. This year I made it to two encouraging and informative speakers. After lunch, I decided to tackle the Exhibition Hall all by my lonesome. It was good, a little overwhelming and ooh so tempting.
I was so tempted to buy all four Carmen Sandiego games. If only I knew an eight-year-old boy. I thought about buying it for the future, but I resisted. They had this cute little airplane and thought about it as a Christmas present, but I walked away and said I’d come back. When I came back the vendor’s area was so busy I couldn’t ask any questions so I took that as God’s sign that Jory didn’t need it.
I think I didn’t know the right questions to ask at Sonlight though I thought I did. I left their booth still feeling unsettled by things. I moved on to Math-U-See. That was a lot easier, even if the worker wasn’t very helpful or friendly. I walked around, looking, then I came upon the Doorpost both just as the worker was talking about a book they sold. The book looked overwhelming to both me and the woman who was getting the sales pitch. But the mini-posters about having good attitudes and being helpful around the house and how to settle a dispute with your brother, appealed to both of us. So when the house is finished, I will have posters to put on doors that we can go to when we misbehave or behave splendidly.
After all my walking around and not being able to find the Abeka, which I know I saw earlier, I decided it was time to head home. I passed a man who stopped me and asked me if I knew where CHEA was. I pointed him in the right direction, which then led him to ask me, “Did I know what was happening in the world?” I’m such a sucker for older people who want to talk at times. I don’t know a polite way to get away. So for the next fifteen to twenty minutes, I heard about how all the media is lying to us and what the government is slowly morphing into. Trust me, in his opinion the country is going to hell in a hand basket.
I didn’t share with Him my thoughts which are: 1. God is in control; and 2. we asked for this, our ancestors those brilliant, fun loving Israelites were like, “Oh come on, God, why can’t we have a king like those heathens have? Why can’t we have another sinner rule over us? Come on, God, don’t be a hater.” God gave us what we wanted and here we are.
So that was CHEA, hopefully next year I’ll have a friend with me and a better understanding of how it all works, and what I need.
Friday, July 15, 2011
I've got butterflies...
in my stomach. This time tomorrow I will be at the Christian homeschooling convention ready to buy curriculum. I'm really doing this. I'm actually going to be Jory's teacher and starting this fall, he will no longer be in "regular" school. This is so completely trippy!
I still remember thinking Deeds and Julie were crazy for homeschooling and their children were going to turn into socially stunted oddballs that they'd be the equivalent of Carnies. Amazing how God changes hearts and minds and how Bekka, Heather, Sami, SJ, and Nika are five really awesome, intelligent kids, who aren't circus freaks at all. Though let's be honest, they could know a little more about pop culture, but that's not their fault that's their parents.
The homeschool journey is kicking into high gear.
I still remember thinking Deeds and Julie were crazy for homeschooling and their children were going to turn into socially stunted oddballs that they'd be the equivalent of Carnies. Amazing how God changes hearts and minds and how Bekka, Heather, Sami, SJ, and Nika are five really awesome, intelligent kids, who aren't circus freaks at all. Though let's be honest, they could know a little more about pop culture, but that's not their fault that's their parents.
The homeschool journey is kicking into high gear.
Thursday, July 14, 2011
The joys of construction
Right now, are you saying, "I wish my mom were here/lived closer."? Are you're missing this conversation:
"Mom, I just swept the floor."
"Oh, you did," she replies and continues to sweep the floor."
If so, do I have a mom from you...Oma!
She is available right now through Labor Day, when the construction at our house I think will really be finished. She loves kids. Okay, not all kids or tons of kids, but some kids. She's a great grandma. Rowan, Layla, and Jory can all vouch for her and clamor to sleep with her at night. She's great at babysitting. She's a loving, yet firm disciplinary.
If you live near the LA area, she works five days a week. She enjoys cleaning, watching TBN, HGTV, and Investigation Discovery, and making sure children don't get kidnapped or injured while playing in fenced in back yards.
What is the cost you ask? NOTHING. God has so graciously given this wonderful mother to me that I feel I can let her go, temporarily, for free.
Oma, your Christmas present come early.
"Mom, I just swept the floor."
"Oh, you did," she replies and continues to sweep the floor."
If so, do I have a mom from you...Oma!
She is available right now through Labor Day, when the construction at our house I think will really be finished. She loves kids. Okay, not all kids or tons of kids, but some kids. She's a great grandma. Rowan, Layla, and Jory can all vouch for her and clamor to sleep with her at night. She's great at babysitting. She's a loving, yet firm disciplinary.
If you live near the LA area, she works five days a week. She enjoys cleaning, watching TBN, HGTV, and Investigation Discovery, and making sure children don't get kidnapped or injured while playing in fenced in back yards.
What is the cost you ask? NOTHING. God has so graciously given this wonderful mother to me that I feel I can let her go, temporarily, for free.
Oma, your Christmas present come early.
Is it so easy to forget?
On one of my yahoo groups if I read about a single mom asking questions about things, or a woman wondering if she can handle being a single mom, I reach out to them. I share my experiences with them. Even if I can’t give them any words of wisdom, I like to reach out to let them know they are not alone.
Tomorrow if God sent a saved George Clooney, or Jorge as I like to refer to him, to me after we married, I would still have a heart for and towards single mothers. When we went out, I would ask a single mom if we could take her kids, so she could have a few hours to herself, to run errands, or just to lay in the bathtub with no interruptions. When Jorge and Jory were going out to a Dodger game, I would ask if they could take the fatherless boy who would love some adult male interaction.
Why is it that men, reared by single mothers, don’t have that same heart? When they are just hanging out, why don’t they think about their fatherless cousins or nephews? Maybe it’s just out of sight, out of mind. Maybe it’s asking the impossible or at the very least the very difficult like asking a celebrity, who grew up in a working class family, why s/he yells at their assistant or doesn’t allow the “little” people to make direct eye contact with them.
I pray Jory grows up to be and becomes a man after God’s own heart and that he will have a heart for the fatherless. He won’t forget the days where he longed for a father and recognizes that other little boys long for the same. I pray this for all my sons, the ones my daughters will bring home, that they too will have a heart for the fatherless. And my daughter will support Jory.
Tomorrow if God sent a saved George Clooney, or Jorge as I like to refer to him, to me after we married, I would still have a heart for and towards single mothers. When we went out, I would ask a single mom if we could take her kids, so she could have a few hours to herself, to run errands, or just to lay in the bathtub with no interruptions. When Jorge and Jory were going out to a Dodger game, I would ask if they could take the fatherless boy who would love some adult male interaction.
Why is it that men, reared by single mothers, don’t have that same heart? When they are just hanging out, why don’t they think about their fatherless cousins or nephews? Maybe it’s just out of sight, out of mind. Maybe it’s asking the impossible or at the very least the very difficult like asking a celebrity, who grew up in a working class family, why s/he yells at their assistant or doesn’t allow the “little” people to make direct eye contact with them.
I pray Jory grows up to be and becomes a man after God’s own heart and that he will have a heart for the fatherless. He won’t forget the days where he longed for a father and recognizes that other little boys long for the same. I pray this for all my sons, the ones my daughters will bring home, that they too will have a heart for the fatherless. And my daughter will support Jory.
Why are we going...
to bed so late? My new goal is to have everyone in bed by 10:30. 9PM, even 9:30 seem super early. Maybe it's because after I get home, I help the kids finish dinner, clean the kitchen, and then help Oma clean up after the workmen. After I finish that or in the midst of that I give everyone baths. Really baths because we no longer have a shower. Oh, that’s not true. We have showers but for some reason Oma is not allowing us to use them so it’s bathtime every night.
Did I mention the light in the bathroom is out and we can’t figure out how to replace the bulb? So you have to bathe with the door cracked open so you can have some light come into the bathroom. Oy vey, the joys of construction.
After all that no wonder 10:30 has become the new bedtime and I’m not even sure what time Jory actually goes to sleep. I know I spend the first half an hour or so driven batty by children who say they aren’t sleepy.
Did I mention the light in the bathroom is out and we can’t figure out how to replace the bulb? So you have to bathe with the door cracked open so you can have some light come into the bathroom. Oy vey, the joys of construction.
After all that no wonder 10:30 has become the new bedtime and I’m not even sure what time Jory actually goes to sleep. I know I spend the first half an hour or so driven batty by children who say they aren’t sleepy.
Monday, July 11, 2011
You know you have Mommy brain...
when you check the blog and the week that you wrote isn't posted and you realise you wrote it all in your head and it never quite made it to the blog or even onto a piece of paper. Good times! Good times!!
Jory
even on his busiest days was never as busy or as into things as Layla is on her slow days. Rowan isn't included in this conversation because she wasn't about to begin any "adventures" unless Jory was with her. She rarely was in a room by herself, she didn't like that.
I'm not sure if Layla is more adventurous by nature or if she's an adventurer who has learned and observed things her brother does. Jory didn't have anyone to show up how to use a chair, the potty, or whatever is handy to stand on, then use your tiptoes, and stretch far to get things. The baby does.
I'm not sure if Layla is more adventurous by nature or if she's an adventurer who has learned and observed things her brother does. Jory didn't have anyone to show up how to use a chair, the potty, or whatever is handy to stand on, then use your tiptoes, and stretch far to get things. The baby does.
You know it's been one of those...
weeks when you're asking your friends, "How do you get Vaseline out of clothes?" Then as you're driving home, you listen to your mother's message that says to stop by the store and pick up some fingernail polish remover. So the next day you're asking friends, "How do you get fingernail polish out of clothes?"
The answers: Vaseline - Dawn/Joy & Hot Water
Fingernail Polish - Acetone based liquid, like OFF, or fingernail polish remover. I haven't tackled this one yet, but I'll let you know how it turns out.
The answers: Vaseline - Dawn/Joy & Hot Water
Fingernail Polish - Acetone based liquid, like OFF, or fingernail polish remover. I haven't tackled this one yet, but I'll let you know how it turns out.
Helpful three-year-olds
The baby came into the room while I was sitting on the floor getting dressed.
“Mommy, you have to pull it up,” she reminded me, as she tried to pull the top of my demi cup bra up.
Gotta love helpful three-year-olds, particularly ones who know things need to be pulled up all the way and cover everything.
“Mommy, you have to pull it up,” she reminded me, as she tried to pull the top of my demi cup bra up.
Gotta love helpful three-year-olds, particularly ones who know things need to be pulled up all the way and cover everything.
Awww
"Mommy, where are we going?" the baby inquired.
"To Aunt Brenda's," I answered as I drove.
"Again?" she continued.
"Yes, again."
"I want to go to Happy's."
"I know."
"I love her. I love Happy."
"I know, baby."
"She's my best friend."
Awww.
"To Aunt Brenda's," I answered as I drove.
"Again?" she continued.
"Yes, again."
"I want to go to Happy's."
"I know."
"I love her. I love Happy."
"I know, baby."
"She's my best friend."
Awww.
The things we have to learn
The kids and I were at Home Depot and Rowan starts singing in the middle of the floor and dancing to the music. I called her back to me and explained to her that she had to be careful and pay attention. She couldn’t dance in the middle of the aisle because someone could run into her or she would be blocking someone from getting down the aisle.
Later as she held my hand quietly, I thought why can’t she dance in the store or sing. Why can’t she have that joy? Why do our social norms say, “no dancing or singing in stores”? I bet people working retail would be much happier and more helpful if people sang and dance or if they could sing or dance. An episode of He-Man said that whistling or humming a song makes you feel better. What the world needs now is more singing and dancing in the streets.
Later as she held my hand quietly, I thought why can’t she dance in the store or sing. Why can’t she have that joy? Why do our social norms say, “no dancing or singing in stores”? I bet people working retail would be much happier and more helpful if people sang and dance or if they could sing or dance. An episode of He-Man said that whistling or humming a song makes you feel better. What the world needs now is more singing and dancing in the streets.
Oy vey
"Mommy, where we going?" Jory inquired, as he buckled in his seatbelt.
"Mommy, where are we going?" I corrected.
"Mommy, where are we going?" he asked again.
"You'll see when we get there," I responded to his now familiar question.
"Home Depot?"
"You'll see."
"Lowes?"
"You'll see."
"LampsPlus?"
Silence.
"Osh's?"
This poor kid has truly been affected by the construction.
"Mommy, where are we going?" I corrected.
"Mommy, where are we going?" he asked again.
"You'll see when we get there," I responded to his now familiar question.
"Home Depot?"
"You'll see."
"Lowes?"
"You'll see."
"LampsPlus?"
Silence.
"Osh's?"
This poor kid has truly been affected by the construction.
Happy 4th of July!!
We lounged around the house for the 4th, until Jory said Aunt Lavonia called and invited us to a bbq at her house. As we started getting dress, then he said, he was excited to go to Aunt Carol’s house. Uh, who exactly invited us over? We called and sure enough it was Aunt Carol. We take our overpriced fireworks and head over.
I feed the kids, eat myself, then the kids wanted to go outside to play so I let them for a while as I sat on the porch. After a bit, I decided to take them on a walk until we had to turn around because baby with the world’s smallest bladder had to go to the bathroom. Potty break accomplished and we were off again for a forty minute walk with TTT, my little cousin Maurice, and I walking around the neighborhood. We came back and the girls wanted to go for a ride in the wagon my aunt uses to cart her dirt around for her precious garden. After all of the exercise I decided it was time for a break.
TTT and Maurice found some toys in the backyard and were happily playing. Then they moved to the front where Jory thought it would be fun to pull the girls in the wagon. Since my aunt lives on a non-busy cul de sac, I thought it would be fine for him to walk the girls to the end of the block then turn around and come back to the house.
I sat inside the house and let them go. As I was recovering, my cousin’s friends came over and they took over the porch and the front yard. And that’s when everything went downhill. Every minute my mom was up looking out of the window, out of the door trying to see her grandchildren.
“Mom, they’re fine. Jory is just pulling the wagon on the sidewalk.”
“But no one is watching them,” she said with concern.
“He’s just walking back and forth on the sidewalk.”
I could tell nothing I was going to say was going to satisfy her. So this went on and finally it started to annoy me, particularly when she went outside to go check on them. I followed her.
“What are you doing?” I asked her.
“I’m checking on the kids,” she retorted with that unstated comment of “because you’re not.”
“I’ve been looking at out of the window.”
“You should be out there with them. It’s not someone else’s job to watch them. They are your children. Ashley is busy with her boyfriend she’s not watching them.”
“I don’t expect anyone to watch them. And where would I watch them from? Am I suppose to interrupt Ashley and her friends’ conversations and hang out on the porch with them or incur Aunt Carol’s wrath by standing or sitting on the available space on the front yard, Ashley’s friends aren’t taking up?”
A pause.
“Haven’t I been out there with them the whole time until Ashley’s friends showed up? Weren’t we gone over an hour on walks?”
Another pause. “Ashley’s friend said she wouldn’t allow her kids to be outside unsupervised,” my mom mentioned.
Why are you listening to a twenty-one-year-old who has no kid?! “Ashley’s friend’s back is to you. She doesn’t see you peeking out the window every five minutes and out the door every minute checking on the kids.”
“Why can’t they play in the backyard?”
“Because between your brother-in-law’s washing machines and your sister’s garden, I prefer them to play in the front.” Not to mention last time we were over here, Layla and Jory made it into your sister’s shed that contains her glass and other things she’s going to sell as soon as she reopens her thrift store- - someday.
“Oh.”
“Let’s go home.”
“We don’t have to do that. You don’t have to get an attitude,” my mom cautioned.
Are you serious!?!?! “I don’t have an attitude. But it’s annoying me that because of something some childless kid said, you have issues with me. I’d rather go home and not have this problem at all.” I walked to the front of the house. “Kids, let’s go!”
I walked back inside the house to collect the fireworks.
“Yash, don’t leave,” my cousins and aunts said.
“No, we have to go home now,” I replied.
“But it’s not dark yet. Wait until we at least do the fireworks,” my cousin, Tony, who had the $250 set of fireworks to light up as soon as the sun went down.
Except the sun wasn’t going down for another two hours or so. I wasn’t putting up with my mom and her attitude for another two hours.
The kids were disappointed, but I told them to put everything back that they played with and we would do the fireworks at home. I wasn’t appreciative of my family trying to make me look like the bad guy for leaving early, but I was more annoyed at my mother so I ignored them.
I got the kids in the car, then my mom got in.
“You shouldn’t have gone to the front while Ashley’s friends were over. You did do everything you could have done. We don’t have to leave, we can stay,” my mom stated before I started the car.
Yiippee!!! She admitted she was wrong, but as long as Ashley’s friends stayed there would be no peace. “Nope, let’s go home. I called Aunt Lavonia and she’ll meet us at the house to see the kids do their fireworks.”
Ten minutes into the drive we discovered we left the video camera so I turned around and back we went. My mom returned to the car with the camera.
“Really, we can stay if you want,” she mentioned again.
I noticed Ashley’s friends were gone. But nope, we’re going home where I can give baths and my kids and I can relax in peace. “No, let’s go home.”
And home we went, Aunt Lavonia and Uncle Bobby arrived just as I was finishing the girls’ bath. Nothing says 4th of July like watching fireworks in your pajamas.
The baby was frightened for the majority of the fireworks that Uncle Bobby set off as Jory and later, Rowan, after Jory was threatened into sharing the fireworks with his sister, handed to him.
After our fireworks were finished, the sun was completely down and others in the neighborhood were getting started. Some of our neighbors had money because their fireworks were lighting up the sky. There was something so patriotic about seeing red, white, and blue light up the sky, knowing the cops were looking the other way, since it’s illegal to light them in LA.
I feed the kids, eat myself, then the kids wanted to go outside to play so I let them for a while as I sat on the porch. After a bit, I decided to take them on a walk until we had to turn around because baby with the world’s smallest bladder had to go to the bathroom. Potty break accomplished and we were off again for a forty minute walk with TTT, my little cousin Maurice, and I walking around the neighborhood. We came back and the girls wanted to go for a ride in the wagon my aunt uses to cart her dirt around for her precious garden. After all of the exercise I decided it was time for a break.
TTT and Maurice found some toys in the backyard and were happily playing. Then they moved to the front where Jory thought it would be fun to pull the girls in the wagon. Since my aunt lives on a non-busy cul de sac, I thought it would be fine for him to walk the girls to the end of the block then turn around and come back to the house.
I sat inside the house and let them go. As I was recovering, my cousin’s friends came over and they took over the porch and the front yard. And that’s when everything went downhill. Every minute my mom was up looking out of the window, out of the door trying to see her grandchildren.
“Mom, they’re fine. Jory is just pulling the wagon on the sidewalk.”
“But no one is watching them,” she said with concern.
“He’s just walking back and forth on the sidewalk.”
I could tell nothing I was going to say was going to satisfy her. So this went on and finally it started to annoy me, particularly when she went outside to go check on them. I followed her.
“What are you doing?” I asked her.
“I’m checking on the kids,” she retorted with that unstated comment of “because you’re not.”
“I’ve been looking at out of the window.”
“You should be out there with them. It’s not someone else’s job to watch them. They are your children. Ashley is busy with her boyfriend she’s not watching them.”
“I don’t expect anyone to watch them. And where would I watch them from? Am I suppose to interrupt Ashley and her friends’ conversations and hang out on the porch with them or incur Aunt Carol’s wrath by standing or sitting on the available space on the front yard, Ashley’s friends aren’t taking up?”
A pause.
“Haven’t I been out there with them the whole time until Ashley’s friends showed up? Weren’t we gone over an hour on walks?”
Another pause. “Ashley’s friend said she wouldn’t allow her kids to be outside unsupervised,” my mom mentioned.
Why are you listening to a twenty-one-year-old who has no kid?! “Ashley’s friend’s back is to you. She doesn’t see you peeking out the window every five minutes and out the door every minute checking on the kids.”
“Why can’t they play in the backyard?”
“Because between your brother-in-law’s washing machines and your sister’s garden, I prefer them to play in the front.” Not to mention last time we were over here, Layla and Jory made it into your sister’s shed that contains her glass and other things she’s going to sell as soon as she reopens her thrift store- - someday.
“Oh.”
“Let’s go home.”
“We don’t have to do that. You don’t have to get an attitude,” my mom cautioned.
Are you serious!?!?! “I don’t have an attitude. But it’s annoying me that because of something some childless kid said, you have issues with me. I’d rather go home and not have this problem at all.” I walked to the front of the house. “Kids, let’s go!”
I walked back inside the house to collect the fireworks.
“Yash, don’t leave,” my cousins and aunts said.
“No, we have to go home now,” I replied.
“But it’s not dark yet. Wait until we at least do the fireworks,” my cousin, Tony, who had the $250 set of fireworks to light up as soon as the sun went down.
Except the sun wasn’t going down for another two hours or so. I wasn’t putting up with my mom and her attitude for another two hours.
The kids were disappointed, but I told them to put everything back that they played with and we would do the fireworks at home. I wasn’t appreciative of my family trying to make me look like the bad guy for leaving early, but I was more annoyed at my mother so I ignored them.
I got the kids in the car, then my mom got in.
“You shouldn’t have gone to the front while Ashley’s friends were over. You did do everything you could have done. We don’t have to leave, we can stay,” my mom stated before I started the car.
Yiippee!!! She admitted she was wrong, but as long as Ashley’s friends stayed there would be no peace. “Nope, let’s go home. I called Aunt Lavonia and she’ll meet us at the house to see the kids do their fireworks.”
Ten minutes into the drive we discovered we left the video camera so I turned around and back we went. My mom returned to the car with the camera.
“Really, we can stay if you want,” she mentioned again.
I noticed Ashley’s friends were gone. But nope, we’re going home where I can give baths and my kids and I can relax in peace. “No, let’s go home.”
And home we went, Aunt Lavonia and Uncle Bobby arrived just as I was finishing the girls’ bath. Nothing says 4th of July like watching fireworks in your pajamas.
The baby was frightened for the majority of the fireworks that Uncle Bobby set off as Jory and later, Rowan, after Jory was threatened into sharing the fireworks with his sister, handed to him.
After our fireworks were finished, the sun was completely down and others in the neighborhood were getting started. Some of our neighbors had money because their fireworks were lighting up the sky. There was something so patriotic about seeing red, white, and blue light up the sky, knowing the cops were looking the other way, since it’s illegal to light them in LA.
4th of July Eve
I turned on the television and my mom had it on TBN, which was airing The Passion of the Christ. I thought that was interesting pre-4th of July movie to air. I saw the movie in the theater, I was very moved by it, but knew it wasn’t a movie you threw in the VCR or DVD player when you wanted to chill and hang out. But since I hadn’t watched it in years and it was near the end, I thought I would watch it again.
The baby walked in as Jesus fell to the ground, carrying the cross.
“Mommy, who that?” she asked.
“Jesus,” I replied.
“That Jesus.”
“Yes.”
“Mommy, he hurt,” she stated with a sad look on her face.
“Yes, He is, baby,” I answered.
“Who hurt him?”
“I did. You did.”
“You hurt him?” she questioned.
“Yes, we all did,” I said. “Jesus died on the cross for our sins.”
We whipped Him, we crucified Him. He died for our sins. He did it all willingly because He love us.
The baby walked in as Jesus fell to the ground, carrying the cross.
“Mommy, who that?” she asked.
“Jesus,” I replied.
“That Jesus.”
“Yes.”
“Mommy, he hurt,” she stated with a sad look on her face.
“Yes, He is, baby,” I answered.
“Who hurt him?”
“I did. You did.”
“You hurt him?” she questioned.
“Yes, we all did,” I said. “Jesus died on the cross for our sins.”
We whipped Him, we crucified Him. He died for our sins. He did it all willingly because He love us.
The 4th of July party on the 2nd
My Aunt Linda and I decided to throw a 4th of July bash for the family. The only day that worked was on Saturday so we decided to go for it. We took the kids shopping and picked up everything we needed from Smart & Final, then we went to my aunt’s house to pick up some things.
My aunt led me to her shed which was crazy. It was like she was watching the Home Shopping Network and caught a sale on the essentials for a summer bbq. I was handing her the still in their shipping boxes - - snow cone machine, ice cream maker, and what every bbq needs, old fashioned popcorn maker. I just laughed to myself. Even her grill still had the price tag on it, literally.
The kids, Oma, and I went over to Aunt Lavonia’s early to set up. We had decided to keep the bbq simple, grilled meat, baked beans, corn, and potato salad. For dessert, you had your choice of ice cream, snowcone, or popcorn. Mort was suppose to come over early to grill, but I thought why wait for him we could do this on our own.
Uncle Bobby fired up the grill and admitted that he wasn’t a griller. Could it really be that difficult? Wasn’t it just putting the meat on the grill and flipping it over? The handy temperature gauge on the outside of the grill said it was time to put the meat on, so I did. I figured I could leave it alone while I went and put the baked beans on.
While I was running back and forth between the kitchen and the grill, my mom said, “Where’s the appetizers?”
What?! Is she serious? The bbq started at 1PM that’s a normal lunch time. She should have eaten breakfast. I simply told there were none and went back to what I was doing, while she watched TTT, along with her sisters, play in the water.
Grilling, I discovered is smoky. The smoke gets in your eyes as you try to step back as much as you can while still opening the top. It’s like you need a little fan to keep you cool while you checking the meat. My aunt decided the meat was cooking too fast, and kept pouring water on the coals.
Okay, so grilling I discovered was not really my thing, but I persevered as my kids happily splashed about in the pool. Two hours after the bbqing started, Mort called to say he was only fifteen minutes away. That’s great seeing as I was on my third batch of meat cooking, but I would happily turn the job over to him.
Leaving the meat again, I went to read up on how to get the ice cream maker going only to read that the container part needed to be refrigerated overnight. Ice cream maker seemed to be out, until my Aunt Lavonia remembered she had a ice cream combining thing in the basement. Basically you put a cookie or candy in the machine with the ice cream and the machine mixes them together. It proved to be the hit of the day, so much so that the snow cone maker was never put to use. I started up the popcorn maker which didn’t make steaming hot popcorn just vaguely warm popcorn, not quite sure why that was, but no one seemed to mind or care except me.
Finally Mort arrived and taught me that all the coals need to be white before you put the meat on the grill so that way everything can cook evenly. Good to know for the next time I grill. I happily handed everything over to him and went to help with the ice cream. Shaheed and I spent the next hour adding cookies, candy, and ice cream for everyone.
TTT literally spent the whole day in the pool. Note to self, sunscreen does need to be reapplied periodically. The one thing that got tossed to the wayside.
A good time was had by all, but it made me miss Mona more than ever. I missed bugging her in the kitchen while she cooked, she says she likes being in the kitchen by herself. I missed my boys and Kayla being out and playing in the pool with TTT. She was missed all around.
My aunt led me to her shed which was crazy. It was like she was watching the Home Shopping Network and caught a sale on the essentials for a summer bbq. I was handing her the still in their shipping boxes - - snow cone machine, ice cream maker, and what every bbq needs, old fashioned popcorn maker. I just laughed to myself. Even her grill still had the price tag on it, literally.
The kids, Oma, and I went over to Aunt Lavonia’s early to set up. We had decided to keep the bbq simple, grilled meat, baked beans, corn, and potato salad. For dessert, you had your choice of ice cream, snowcone, or popcorn. Mort was suppose to come over early to grill, but I thought why wait for him we could do this on our own.
Uncle Bobby fired up the grill and admitted that he wasn’t a griller. Could it really be that difficult? Wasn’t it just putting the meat on the grill and flipping it over? The handy temperature gauge on the outside of the grill said it was time to put the meat on, so I did. I figured I could leave it alone while I went and put the baked beans on.
While I was running back and forth between the kitchen and the grill, my mom said, “Where’s the appetizers?”
What?! Is she serious? The bbq started at 1PM that’s a normal lunch time. She should have eaten breakfast. I simply told there were none and went back to what I was doing, while she watched TTT, along with her sisters, play in the water.
Grilling, I discovered is smoky. The smoke gets in your eyes as you try to step back as much as you can while still opening the top. It’s like you need a little fan to keep you cool while you checking the meat. My aunt decided the meat was cooking too fast, and kept pouring water on the coals.
Okay, so grilling I discovered was not really my thing, but I persevered as my kids happily splashed about in the pool. Two hours after the bbqing started, Mort called to say he was only fifteen minutes away. That’s great seeing as I was on my third batch of meat cooking, but I would happily turn the job over to him.
Leaving the meat again, I went to read up on how to get the ice cream maker going only to read that the container part needed to be refrigerated overnight. Ice cream maker seemed to be out, until my Aunt Lavonia remembered she had a ice cream combining thing in the basement. Basically you put a cookie or candy in the machine with the ice cream and the machine mixes them together. It proved to be the hit of the day, so much so that the snow cone maker was never put to use. I started up the popcorn maker which didn’t make steaming hot popcorn just vaguely warm popcorn, not quite sure why that was, but no one seemed to mind or care except me.
Finally Mort arrived and taught me that all the coals need to be white before you put the meat on the grill so that way everything can cook evenly. Good to know for the next time I grill. I happily handed everything over to him and went to help with the ice cream. Shaheed and I spent the next hour adding cookies, candy, and ice cream for everyone.
TTT literally spent the whole day in the pool. Note to self, sunscreen does need to be reapplied periodically. The one thing that got tossed to the wayside.
A good time was had by all, but it made me miss Mona more than ever. I missed bugging her in the kitchen while she cooked, she says she likes being in the kitchen by herself. I missed my boys and Kayla being out and playing in the pool with TTT. She was missed all around.
The kids came
to work to say hi to everyone. I try to bring them once a quarter. This day, I still had work I had to finish so the kids went along with me as I went from department to department. We could into one of the viewing rooms and Rowan wanted to hug the AD that was sitting in the room. He kindly returned her hug and her smile.
"There's a baby in there?" she then asked.
Crap! I quickly grab her and her siblings and put them outside the room, grab the book, and do my work. I have no idea what to say. I'm shocked.
I opened the door and handed the book to the AD.
"I'm so sorry," I apologized.
He just laughed and said, "That's okay."
He does have a Santa Claus type belly on him, but so wasn't expecting Rowan to make mention of it. Or that there was a baby in it.
The things that come out of babies' mouths.
"There's a baby in there?" she then asked.
Crap! I quickly grab her and her siblings and put them outside the room, grab the book, and do my work. I have no idea what to say. I'm shocked.
I opened the door and handed the book to the AD.
"I'm so sorry," I apologized.
He just laughed and said, "That's okay."
He does have a Santa Claus type belly on him, but so wasn't expecting Rowan to make mention of it. Or that there was a baby in it.
The things that come out of babies' mouths.
They're learning
We were doing devotionals, reading about Adam and Eve, when the kids started busting out with additional information.
“Mommy, the snake was cursed to crawl on his belly. He use to have legs,” Jory informed me excitedly.
“Mommy, Adam and Eve ate the apple when God said, ‘No,’” Rowan piped in.
“They had to leave the garden,” Jory added.
I was taken aback by all they knew. I knew I hadn’t taught them all of this. I knew this was ground work I had laid, their Sunday School teachers had laid, Mrs. Wilson, their Cubbies and Spark leaders, all of us working and planting the seed together. All of this due to God’s grace and goodness. I pray their hearts and minds are always open and sponging up God’s Word.
“Mommy, the snake was cursed to crawl on his belly. He use to have legs,” Jory informed me excitedly.
“Mommy, Adam and Eve ate the apple when God said, ‘No,’” Rowan piped in.
“They had to leave the garden,” Jory added.
I was taken aback by all they knew. I knew I hadn’t taught them all of this. I knew this was ground work I had laid, their Sunday School teachers had laid, Mrs. Wilson, their Cubbies and Spark leaders, all of us working and planting the seed together. All of this due to God’s grace and goodness. I pray their hearts and minds are always open and sponging up God’s Word.
Three-year-olds who have your back
“You buckled in, Mommy?” the baby asked, as we were driving down the street.
“Yes, baby, I’m buckled in,” I answered, wondering why she was asking.
“You buckled in, Jory?
“Yes,” my oldest responded.
“You buckled in, RoEN (the new way she pronounces Rowan’s name)?”
“I’m buckled in,” Rowan replied.
“Good because I see the po-LEECE (police). No tickets! No tickets!” she happily informed us.
Gotta love three-year-olds who are on the lookout for the popo.
“Yes, baby, I’m buckled in,” I answered, wondering why she was asking.
“You buckled in, Jory?
“Yes,” my oldest responded.
“You buckled in, RoEN (the new way she pronounces Rowan’s name)?”
“I’m buckled in,” Rowan replied.
“Good because I see the po-LEECE (police). No tickets! No tickets!” she happily informed us.
Gotta love three-year-olds who are on the lookout for the popo.
Irony Part II
I had to sleep on Rowan's revelation. I couldn't believe or think of a situation where Mrs. Wilson would talk to Rowan about race. When I woke up, eureka, it hit me! It wasn't Mrs. Wilson that spoke to Rowan about mommies and babies, it was her seven-year-old cousin, soon to be eight, Sami, who dropped this "knowledge" on my baby. The same helpful older cousin who had my precious six-year-old asking, "What's a stripper?"
Anyway with the relief of knowing where Rowan got this information, I spoke to her about it again.
"Rowan, remember when you said that 'white babies come from white mommies and black babies come from black mommies.'?" I asked.
She nodded her head.
"That's not true. God and only God determines what color babies are, not mommies, okay?"
"Okay, Mommy," she answered and went about her morning routine.
I love Sami, but she can no longer play in a room alone with TTT. This "knowledge" she gives my kids- - I think they can wait to learn.
Anyway with the relief of knowing where Rowan got this information, I spoke to her about it again.
"Rowan, remember when you said that 'white babies come from white mommies and black babies come from black mommies.'?" I asked.
She nodded her head.
"That's not true. God and only God determines what color babies are, not mommies, okay?"
"Okay, Mommy," she answered and went about her morning routine.
I love Sami, but she can no longer play in a room alone with TTT. This "knowledge" she gives my kids- - I think they can wait to learn.
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