7 quick takes

one

My mother is working on the making of fancy pancakes (crepes) for breakfast with the girls (the boys are at Man's Bible Study) giving me time to "workout". Fortunately I remembered that I haven't blogged in like four days so the "workout" will have to wait.

She has a tiny special pan for each girl and she is teaching them how to pour in the batter, swirl and then flip the pancake. And she does it all calmly without screaming. But then they all listen to her because they know she means it. Unlike me, where they have worn me down to a shrivel of my former self. Even the dog regards me with a supercilious eye and barks wildly at me when when I desperately cry 'No! Stop Barking! Please! For the love of Somebody or Other!'

two

The general obsession with Calvin and Hobbes is reaching disturbing proportions. Gladys has been drawing God in her copy book as a Sun. In the beginning of the book she drew God like this.

God is in the sky looking down on all he has made. 

Then she switched to drawing him as a Sun. Then she joined in her syblings devotion to Calvin and Hobbes in which, you might remember, Calvin once is turned into a sun who wears sunglasses. Now God looks like this for Gladys.

I can't begin to say how much I love this.

three

Continuing on with Gladys, Matt has owed her a lunch out for a while. She picked out her clothes the day before and then got up and got dressed about six in the morning, but then when they were finally ready to go, she couldn't bring herself to smile for me.

I agree with her. Smiling sometimes diminishes the grandure and importance of a moment.

I agree with Matt too that he looks partially insane in this picture. I'm pretty sure it's because of the hat but I can't be sure.

And here is their lunch.

four

Despite what this blog may indicate, Gladys doesn't consume my every waking moment any more than any other child. She's turning out to be a drama queen just at the moment her older sister is becoming a little more grounded as a person. Elphine can carry on a conversation now without squealing or falling over which, while pleasant, is not great blog fodder. Same with all the others. Honestly, I'll take it. Calmish, moderately rational, occasionally obedient, basically cheerful, emotionally uncluttered children. Some may call it average boring mediocrity. I call it a decent, orderly, satisfying day.

five

The three oldest girls are going on a sleep over tonight and so Gladys and Marigold are busy gathering up stuff to take. They are also practically shaking with energy and hope and are breathing heavily. What are the chances of a little school work before they finally get to go......bets anyone?

six

I, on the other hand am turning my mind and heart to the fact that the bishop is coming in a week. Meals need to be organized. The church needs to be decluttered. Matt has a big pile of things to organize and do. And also, I'm starting Pageant rehearsals the Sunday he's here so there's that. Fortunately again, the Wait but Why blog  has two great posts on Procrastination the reading of which will save me from all the realities just enumerated above. So much to be thankful for in this month of thanks giving.

seven

These are the days of book writing. Everybody seems to be doing it. Even people who don't blog. People who have an old fashioned pen in the hand and a notebook in the lap. Novels, sketches, memories. Elphine and Alouicious themselves are busy writing a stack of comics. If I was a better person I would be happy about this but the problem is, the only reason I know about the explosion of the whole world writing a book is that I Too, am busily tapping away at little sketches of this and that. And the more I work on them, the more I'm swallowing down ungodly jealousy about everyone else. But I've found a great remedy for this, and no, it's not working harder and writing more. It's watching book promotional videos of terrible books I hope never to read and which offend everything I hold as good and true and right. As a gift for the weekend, I give you this.

Have a great weekend and go check out Jen!

sometimes they sort of get it

Gladys wrote another poem this morning. She was irritating me a lot just at that moment, what with the complaining and whining and general sense of total dissatisfaction with reality. I thought maybe if I wrote it down for her she would stop with the whining, which turned out not to be the case. Basically the age of five I have never found to be awesome. Anyway, here is the text of the poem followed by the frame and picture she drew around the original copy. I'll write her commentary of the picture underneath it.

The Bible

By Gladys

3/6/2013

An Angel appeared to Mary and said, "Mary, you are going to have a baby. 

You are going to call him Jesus."

And so Jesus grew up and his name was God.

And Satan disguised as a serpent came into Adam's hand and said some bad things about God.

And then he crawled out of Adam's hand so that Adam ate the fruit off the tree; and Eve did too.

You can see Mary with extremely long hair leaning over Jesus to pick him up out of the manger and take him out to show visitors. The other sort of large thing in the air next to her is a lamp. Cowering in the corner at the bottom are Adam and Eve and the serpent who, to me, looks remarkably like a platypus. The top is framed by a sun and two lamps that I thought looked like bees, but I was wrong.  I love how towering Mary and Jesus are.

the poem of god

We watched The Prince of Egypt recently in our usual lackadaisical weekly watching of A Family Movie. It's either Big Trouble in Little China (whoops) or Gnomeo and Juliet (srsly) or well, other hits and misses. So I thought The Prince of Egypt was going to be about Joseph not Moses and I didn't know it was a musical....but I tried not to feed into the general whining about all the singing. Alouicious finally stopped complaining when he realized the little girls liked it.

In particular, Gladys seemed to be thinking about all kinds of things and after talking a whole lot when it was over and rubbing my cheek announced that she would write a poem. Then, the next day, she hassled me all morning until I dropped everything and sat down and wrote down what she wanted. All that follows is her 'poem', but really more of an imprecatory psalm, scribbled by me as she spoke without breath. If you're generally offended by the violent justice of God in the Old Testament then you won't enjoy this. But if you've worked through that you should be fine.

The Poem of God
By Gladys

Mary and Joseph were going to get a baby.
An angel said to them, "You are going to have a baby."

Pharoah came to get his prisoners back
but God put up a wall of water for his people
and flooded Pharaoh and his people.
God's people were safe.

The people of Israel had a party to celebrate.
God said the people should have a place to live and lots of food and water.

They came to a place a place where the were lots
of homes with food and water.
The people lived and were safe.

All Pharaoh's people were dead,
sinking in the sand and all the frogs
were jumping on them.
They would be dead forever.

God's people were safe with food and water.
Every morning they sat in front of the cozy fire with warm blankets.

All Pharaoh's people were dead at the bottom of the ocean.

Alouicious has discovered Calvin and Hobbes. He keeps coming and showing me the gross snowmen Calvin makes and chuckling to himself. In fact, the other day, he came to explain it to me in case I had never read it before.
"I know," I said, "And, when you're done with that one, we have all of them."
Honestly, its the FIRST thing he's reading without being able to put it down. So, even though I was rather hoping that first thing would be, you know, like, The Bible or Ivanhoe or something, I'm not really complaining. If you know and love Calvin and Hobbes, your life will probably turn out all right in the end.

Which brings me to my submission for the 2013 Lander Motto (gleaned from The Best Exotic Marigold Hotel which, as a movie was ok but not amazing). Ready?

It will all come out all right in the end. And if it isn't alright, then it isn't the end.

Past Lander Mottoes have been:

This too shall pass.
Let me be your morning cup of coffee.
Where are we going and why are we in this hand basket?
Cheer Up, Things could be worse. So I cheered up and sure enough, Things Got Worse.

I'm sure I've forgotten some. 
Pip pip!

praying with children

Its so important to pray with children, just like it is to do other hard things with them like Cook and Eat Dinner, Carry on a Conversation, Fold a Single Solitary Basket of Laundry, Pick Up the Blocks, Remember What It Was You Came Into This Room For Will You Stop Screaming So I Can Think For A Minute. And so on and so forth. Prayer, as many of us might remember, is a foundational part of the Christian Life and children should be included in it, even if it kills you.

My children's real prayer life begins in the Atrium with Catechists of the Good Shepherd. There, at the age of three or so, as they learn to pour beans, line the sheep up behind the Shepherd, paste construction paper cutouts of the chalice and the paten over the cutout of the altar, roll up their mats and speak nicely to one another, they learn to speak to and hear God. Its not difficult and basically lovely (on the days when Gladys doesn't have her lip out and a hard look in her eye that says 'I'll have everything my way'). You turn the lights off, light the candle, gather in a "half circle" at the prayer table, sing "The Lord is my Shepherd" and then the many things little people are thankful for or concerned about spill readily forth. Marigold, every day finding the pleasure of more speech, clutches her fists together, screws her eyes half shut and says "Jesus.....(stuff we don't usually understand)....Amen" and the looks around, extremely pleased with herself. Gladys, strangely, speaks to a Person, we know not who, and asks for the information to be relayed on to God. Something like, "Please help God to give us a lovely day and a lovely dinner and a lovely going to bed. And please help God to help us have a lovely time."
"Who is she talking to?" a child will inevitably whisper very loudly.
"Shsh" I whisper back, "don't worry about it".

And of course, the prayer continues at home. We pray before meals, enforcing a strict Keep It Short And Simple or the person whose turn it is to pray is liable to go rambling through the avenues of forgetful repetition, "Thank You for Mommy and Daddy and Everyone Else". The Prayer becomes flustered, and starts again and again. And we pray before bed. And we say Morning Prayer three times a week in the course of doing school.

Ah, Morning Prayer. Its so Anglican. It would be so pious were not for the screaming of me to BE QUIET and SIT DOWN and STOP KICKING YOUR SISTER. Basically we get through the Opening Sentence (Rite Two, BCP pg. 79) and start the Confession three or four times before settling in. Sometimes we name aloud what we feel sorry about, trying to steer away from things like "I feel weally sowy that Womulous was mean to me" and more towards "I am weally sowy that I was unkind to Marigold". After the Confession is singing. Right now we're learning "New Every Morning is the Love" and "Come Thou Long Expected Jesus". Then we recite whatever we're memorizing and work on the Catechism. And finally we leap over everything remaining to say the Lord's Prayer, Suffrages A, and then our own free praying. And I must say that every day I'm amazed by how passionate and heartfelt each little child's prayers are that God would make sure and give us all "A Good Time", or, to vary it, "A Fun Time". As if their little lives are one long miserable rotten sorrowful existence. As if they don't play solidly from the moment their eyes open until they close at night. As if they don't have a constant stream of lovely friends parading through their house and the church. As if they don't have lovely stories and lovely lovely coloring. As if they don't watch all kinds of too much TV. As if they don't eat massive bowls of porridge covered in real cream and drink real mugs of tea. What is this passionate anxious calling out to God for A Good Time? As they cry out to God I ask myself, "Are you kidding me?"

But, of course, they're not kidding. And neither are any of the rest of us when we worry deeply about all the things that threaten our comfort and Arrangement of Life. Long ago, when I was small child in the far off dry unrelenting heat of the Malian Savanna, my mother sat by my bed and prayed "Dear Jesus, Thank you for this Day. Please help us to have a Good Time at the beach tomorrow." And then she opened her eyes, as I did mine, and we laughed and laughed until we cried. And one day, much much later, we did go to the beach, and we seriously thanked God for it.

the season

Sitting here with a profound cold in the head trying to watch the Democratic Convention. And again I ask, Why does it all have to be So Late? Elphine has made brownies at this advanced hour to avert the coming apocalypse ("If I don't make brownies today, I'll DIE.")

Ooop, not the convention, football. And so begins a long season of depression as the Cowboys lose a bunch. But we're rooting for 'em anyway.

Much woe on the part of the boys, though, that they're not allowed to favor the Giants when the Cowboys are playing. "I hope they both win" says Elphine, ever the moderate. All she needs is a little bit of plastic surgery and a whole lot of lipstick and the gleam in her eye will take her all the way to the top.

She is developing a gratifying combination of deadpan commentary and timing. Yesterday, as I was struggling along not speaking Mandarin she turned up her nose and at every prompt, responded in English instead of Mandarin.
Pimsleur: Say, I speak a little English.
Elphine: I speak a little English.
Everyone giggles.
Pimsleur: Excuse me, can I ask, do you speak English?
Elphine: Excuse me, can I ask? Do you speak English?
Me: Say it in Mandarin!
Amazingly, though, she stopped when it was no longer funny. What a gift!

Anyway, what was I blogging about? The Convention? Can't remember. Going to bed. Tomorrow I'll discover that the Cowboys really did lose and the Democrats really really really really really really love women.

in praise of mediocrity

We're having a week "off" watching the Olympics and squabbling with each other. For my second day "off" I'm going to do laundry and write up my Individualized Home Instruction Plans (IHIP) for each child and then think about burying myself under a rock or something. Can you believe that I have every single book, apparently, that I'll need for the year ordered, arrived and shelved by child by subject in the school room...and my desk is clean? I can't believe it either. But its true and as a result of its being true, I am going to have to actually do all those other things I also didn't want to do, like laundry, and writing up a purpose mission statement for the Sunday School (sorry CHEC! I am doing it! I am! I am! I am!). But at least I don't have to dive off a huge tall diving board perfectly synchronized to someone else and then miss out on the dream of my whole life because my "partner" splashed into the pool slightly too much. Boy, that would rot. That's the take away lesson, kids! Don't pour your life into only one activity because it might turn out to be not that awesome.
"That's ok, mommy," Gladys assured me after this little speech. "I weally weally love bayblading but I love God more. AND" she said, driving the point home, "Jesus is God and God is Jesus."
Isn't it great how holy and spiritual my children are? Wish you could hear the supercilious relish with which Gladys talks about God. Boy has she got it all figured out. She could be an NBC Olympic Interviewer for her remarkable timing and self-righteousness.
Happy Olympic Viewing!

weekend in review

Phew. What a weekend.
Matt talked to the Mormons on Saturday evening. I desperately cleaned the house and put laundry away. Yesterday Matt got up at 4 and I got up at 5 and we both worked solidly through until 9:30 when we fell asleep with all the lights and computers on.

All of that to say that these two cats lying here sleeping as if they had been working hard at whatever it is they do all day and night are really irritating. Really really really irritating.

Also, I realized that all the extra tv watched during Holy Week and "Easter Break" has made my children more stupid. Measurably so.

So much more stupid that we're actually going to do some school on a Monday (I know!). Desperate measures are called for in these critical times.

In the midst of all the busyness, however, I did happen to engage in the following remarkable conversation and write it down.

Romulus: Did you know that the person in my tummy is making a fire? Whenever I eat noodles, he makes a fire.
Me: What kind of person is it?
Romulus: A cooker.
Gladys: Yeah, his name is Daniel.
Romulus: Sometimes he is mean to me.
Gladys: The person in my tummy is named Daniel too.
Matt (to me): At least neither of them are alone.
Gladys: My Daniel is funny and evil at the same time.

Multiple personality disorder? Digestion/Tummy issues? Really amazing imaginations? I don't know. And now its time to do some more work.

a week of eating or something

Monday
Child: "Wh
a's for breakfast?"
Matt: "Toast. Make yourself some toast."
Child, incredulously: e"Really. I can make toast?"
Matt: "Yup. And you can make it for your brothers and sisters."
Child, disappointedly: "Oh, I have to make toast?"
Tuesday
Child: "What is this?"
Me: "Delicious Oatmeal."
Child: "Is that what its called? Delicious Oatmeal?"
Me: "That's what its called.
Child, dubiously, "Oh."
Wednesday
Child: "We're having bread for breakfast?"
Me: "Yup."
Child: "What kind of bread?"
Me: "Oatmeal Bread."
Other Child: "NO. Delicious Oatmeal Bread."
Thursday
Me to child trying to eat noodles out of the dustpan: "Yuck."
Child: "Huh?"
Me: "YUCK!"
Child: "Huh?"
Me, handing child noodles not covered in dust: "Yum."
Child: "Yuck."
Friday
Me to all the children: "Do you want pancakes or cheerios?"
All but one child: "Pancakes!"
One Child, Weeping: "Cheerios. I waaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaannnnnnnnnnnnnnttttttttt cheeeerios!"
All the other children: "That's stupid."
Me: "Don't say stupid."

In conversation with children

Romulus gagging and trying to get through his dinner.
You know this black stuff on top of the potato? Well, that stuff makes some people throw up.
(Nobody is allowed to say they don't like something at dinner, and nobody is allowed to throw up.)

Romulus putting a little world on the Jesse Tree.
God created the world?! Seriously?!
(Like we haven't mentioned this over and over in the last four months! What!)

Alouicious flirting with logic.
You know why I believe Santa is real? Because people don't go outside at night and so it must be Santa that brings presents all at once. He's the only one that's out late.
(He's right. We Don't Ever go outside after dark. Congratulated him on his astute reasoning.)

overheard this morning

I'm trying to avoid reality by not getting out of bed, but everybody is up and arguing and it looks like I'm going to have to give up and arise.
Alouicious and Elphine fighting in the other room:
A: I am doing it because I love Jesus. But I like chocolate too and Daddy said we could have chocolate.
E: But you shouldn't do it for the chocolate. You should do it because you love Jesus.
A: I AM. But I also get chocolate.
E: I don't think you're doing it for the right reasons.
Me (shouting from my bed): Stop questioning his motivation. Leave him alone!
At which point Gladys twirls in and says to Matt
G: I want to ask Jesus to come into my heart.
M: That's so great. Can you tell me where Jesus is now?
G: He is in heaven.
M: That's right. Can you tell me what he did for you and why you want him to live in your heart?
G: Yeah, but I'm not going to.
Twirls out as Romulus comes in
R: I did not just tell a lie.
That's my cue to go interfere.

whistling

Alouicious has learned to whistle.

Its really the most irritating skill I can think of, in all places, in all times. He whistles to everyhing and at every moment. Just now he is whistling along to Handel's Greatest Hits (there's no way anyone can ever accuse me of being a snob for any reason after such a revelation). Later he will whistle himself to bed and whistle himself to sleep. He whistles, aggravatingly, while he works. He whistles in between whining about having to work. He whistles while he reads. Really, there isn't one single solitary thing I can think of that he does without whistling. I could hear him faintly whistling from the altar as he acolyted yesterday.

I have always tried, in my soul, to be a good mother and not nag, but every other word I breath now is, "don't whistle in my ear," "please stop whistling," "don't whistle at the table," "don't whistle right now," "don't whistle right here."
"Why do you yell at me all the time now?" he asked last week.
"I'm sorry," I said, "its just you're always whistling in my ear. Its driving me crazy."

I know I should be praying for my children to be saved and learn lots of stuff and other kinds of things, but really all I pray every day now is, "Lord Jesus have mercy on me a sinner and please let no other child in this house learn to whistle."

7 Quick Takes--School Stuff

One
We're on track to finish Alice in Wonderland today. We've spent ages talking through all the terrible puns and watching youtube clips of things like Quadrille Dancing ("that's disgusting" said Alouicious,  "I never ever ever want to dance like that."). So far the favoritist joke of all is that "Lessons" are so called because they lessen every day until they don't exist. Once she got it, Elphine laughed so hard she started crying. Over the month we've relearned "Jabberwocky" from last year and started "The Walrus and the Carpenter". I LOVE the wary look in all their big eyes as they say the words, considering that they are ridiculous and trying to measure how ridiculous, like enough to laugh out loud? or just to groan inwardly?
Two
Elphine is working desperately hard to finish her math book by the end of this week so that she can 1. invite a friend and 2. go out to lunch. These are both her ideas. "I've worked so hard to finish early," she said, "shouldn't I have a friend over and go out to lunch?"
I mean, I guess, but I've been working really hard get on top of the laundry and nobody has said anything to me about lunch out. I'm afraid Elphine's motivation will eventually run me into money.
Three
She gets up early and writes our schedule out on the board, dividing everything into 'things to do together' and 'things to do alone' and then making boxes for everyone to mark off what they've accomplished.
She and Gladys then plough through the day doggedly and intensely, marking off box after box while the boys whine and cry and beg to do things together. "I don't want to do math alone," cries Alouicious.
"I don't want to do math at all," moans Romulus.
Meanwhile Gladys eats buckets of candy for winning the work race every day, face and dress smeared with chocolate, singing, "I finished first. I finished first."
 
Four
On the Bible front we've memorized John 15:1-9 and the first 15 verses from our little Desiring God foundation verses ring. We've started back at the Catechism for Young Children and are up to question 20. We're all praying for Gladys to be saved soon since she's more and more like a little totalitarian dictator every day.
Five
We've also, besides piano, been working on the Tin whistle. I know, I'm probably certifiably insane. Anyway, Romulus and Gladys just try to put their wretched tiny fingers on the holes and blow screamingly in my ears. Elphine, Alouicious and I, on the other hand, are trying to learn a little Irish tune from youtube and "The King of Love my Shepherd Is", which is surprisingly hard. I really have to be completely in the right frame of mind for this or I just cry with frustration and rage. Still, maybe in 30 years we'll all be able to play a song together.
Six
We do a lot of other stuff too, like writing and grammar and geography blah bah blah. It doesn't even really merit a whole quick take, much less a blog post. I like it all but none of its funny, well, a lot of it is in the moment but then it disappears in the cloud of reality.
Seven
I figured out this week that Alouicious is, in his heart, an information seeking American, and I, in my soul, am an information withholding French person. I need to develop some methods of indirect communication (like posting signs on the fridge or something) that satisfy his hunger for knowledge (what are we having for breakfast? when will I get to play? how long do I have to read? while I ever play again?) in such a way that doesn't make me irritated with having to speak all the time (I don't know, leave me alone!) Maybe all of this would go away if I just taught him to speak French. That sounds like a fun afternoon activity.

Have a great weekend and go check out Jen!

In conversation with children

Elphine: You were born in England? Did you see the queen?
Me: No
Elphine: Why not?
Me: I'm not that important.
Elphine: Well, I would just go. I would just go see her. And I would wear this dress, and gloves and a purse.
Me: You can't just go see her. You have to be invited.
Elphine: What do you have to do to be invited?
Alouicious (interrupting): Do people wear pants there?
Me: Yeah, its a normal country, like America.
Ephine: Except there's the queen.
Alouicious: We could go see the Mayor.
Me: His name is Matt.
Alouicious: REALLY. Is Daddy a secret code name for him?
Elphine: Can we go see him?
Me: I guess maybe we could.
Alouicious: Do they know each other?

Overheard later
Elphine: Yeah English, I love English. I wonder why its called English.
Alouicious: Because its shared between lots of different places in the world. Eng, though, as in England."

I might as well be Santa

My first answer to nearly everything my children ask me is always a full throat-ed and enthusiastic "NO!!!".
"Can I have a snack?"
"No, no no you'll spoil your dinner!"
"Can I go play in the mud?"
"NO NO NO It is not in my mind to bathe you tonight!"
"Can I have all the children in the church over to play this afternoon?"
"ARE YOU Kidding ME? NO!"
"Can I eat this bug?"
"No! Well, maybe if it doesn't look poisonous."
"Can I help you cook?"
"Oh baby, not right now. Mommy needs to be alone in the kitchen right now or she will loose her mind."

Except today I turned into the fuzzy bunny Santa tooth fairy of money and candy.
"You vacuumed the office?! AWESOME! Here's a dollar."
"You guys want to build a fort? Here's a whole mattress and a board to build a wall. Yeah sure, take all the tea cups and a bucket of water."
And then this evening, "Sure, you can sleep in the fort."

They're not sleeping though. Its like a carnival in there. And it sounds like there's six forts, or something. Probably Santa Mama will be up in the middle of the night when everyone freaks out and tries to get in her bed. Night Night!

a Weekend in Conversation

Gladys, snuggled deeply and comfortably in my lap: "I hate that song."

Me laughing hysterically: "Hate is a pretty strong word. Do you know what it means?"
Gladys: "It means I don't like it at all. I hate that song."
Me: "Why do you hate it?"
Gladys: "I don't know."
Me: "I think its lovely."
Gladys: "I weally weally hate it."
Matt: "I don't think you should use that word, Gladys."
Gladys with relish: "Like stupid. Just like I can't say sstuupiid."

Much Later
Matt: "So you're saying you wouldn't have married me if my name was Weiner?"
Me: "That's right. Not until you changed your name."
The jokes so so so write themselves.

And finally Marigold has finally added more to her vocabulary of 'Daddy' and 'No'. She can also say 'I want that'. What a delightful child.

Conversations of the Day

Matt: Its sad that tomorrow all the flood coverage on the news is going to go away.

Me: What's more important?! There will be another flood before you know it. But Prince William is only going to get married once! Well, maybe twice. Certainly not three times.

Elphine: I'm going to get married and have ten children and live next door to Nonni so that she can take care of them.

Gladys: I got married before but now I'm going to eat my chocolate.

Alouicious: I'm going to live next door to Mimi and travel and stuff. Do you think she and Nonni will live that long?

Elphine: People die all the time.

Alouicious: I know! There's tons of dead people around here.

Episcopal Oversight

We're halfway through our time with the bishop.
("Is the good bishop or that bad bishop coming to visit?" Alouicious asked on Thursday as we were cleaning.
"The good bishop," I said.
"Oh" he said disappointedly. Think he probably wanted to practice awesome "kung-fu" moves on a bad guy and so I pulled him back to remind him to pray for the bad bishop which disappointed him even more. Romulus then wandered in to inquire why we were cleaning.
"Because!" said Matt, "we enjoy a clean house, Cleaning is a regular integrated part of our lives." Nobody believed him.)
Today will be various workshops and training. Tomorrow will be baptism, confirmation, chrismation (I don't even know how to spell this or anything--someone, enlighten me, what will he be doing?), and, said the bishop, "raising of the dead". I look forward to it immensely.

Conversation of this Afternoon

Matt: Get in the car everyone! We're going to vote.
Gladys: Why are we getting in a boat?
Matt: We're going to vvvote, not get in a boat.
Gladys, deeply disappointed: I'm too old to vote.
Elphine: You're not too old to vote.
Alouicious: I don't know how to vote.
Matt: Don't worry, when the time comes, I'll tell you Exactly How.

Now we're hustling the children into bed so we can glue ourselves to the computer in preparation for a long cozy frustrated evening. Election night is one of my favorite nights of the year, only superseded by, um, well, I can't think of anything. I LOVE Politics. Its so exciting!

Monday Blog Haze

I'm seriously considering making this blog all about my hair. Thank you for all the comments! more than I think I've ever received for any other topic. Its all been very informative and helpful. I carefully tucked my grays in yesterday for church, but this morning they're flying all over with impunity. Matt says he "likes them" but he also says a lot of other stuff I know not to be true because he's nice and a good husband. (stuff like, "you don't look fat in that dress" and "it doesn't matter what you wear, you always look gorgeous" and "you're good at Everything you do!")

Maybe I'll start taking up close shots of my hair and documenting the graying progress. Or something.

In the meantime, I want to alert you all to the fact that Simcha Fisher is blogging again. Praise the Lord! If you want to know what kind of person I wish I was, you can read her. Along with Mark Steyn, I stop everything to read anything she's written, beating off children and work for a moment of quiet.

Also, I meant to link this post ages ago but forgot. Jessica took a class in something interesting and fabulous called Target Focused Training. Money quote, "Violence is rarely the answer. But when it is the answer, it’s the only  answer.” Going to look around for something like it here on the opposite coast.


And then, gratuitously and because its my blog so I can say whatever I want, here is the conversation I had with Romulus during the Prayers of the People yesterday. He was sitting on my lap, his enormous head pressing into my shoulder, wiggling and whispering too loudly.
R: Can I wear that.
Me: what?
R: that (pointing to my engagement ring)
Me: sure (putting it grudgingly on his fat index finger).
R; What is it?
Me: a diamond ring.
R: What is it for?
Me: Its pretty. See how it sparkles?
R: What does it do?
Me: It doesn't do anything, its pretty.
R: Does it have power?
Me: um? the power of love (laughing hysterically on the inside), not the kind of power you want
R: like a superhero?
Me: No
R: (deeply disappointed) oh


And now I will go try and fix my part of Leaving Home Part 4. I think its fine but Matt says it needs work. See! There are so many things he says that aren't true (see above).