Some catching-up

Wow, it's been awhile.

I've had a million thought of things to blog about over the past month but never the time to do it. So, I'll just do a generic catch-up post and try to come up with something more clever soon, I promise.

1. I am home with all three children on this Monday before Christmas. The boys are both semi-sick, so I let them stay home to rest. We leave for Georgia soon and I don't want sickies on our trip. Since dragging them out into the cold to take Lauren to school would have defeated the purpose of keeping them home, I kept Lauren home today, too.

We've had a morning filled with apple pancakes (didn't turn out as tasty as I'd hoped), Battleship games, jigsaw-puzzles, Uno, and books. Despite the coughing and runny noses, it's been one of my favorite days of late. But really, how can a day that starts with kisses and snuggles be bad? (Okay, maybe the Benadryl I gave the boys is somehow making ME delirious.)

2. I have been having trouble getting into the spirit of Christmas this year. Not the "secular" spirit. I've had the lights and the tree and the decorations up since Thanksgiving. Gifts are all bought and wrapped, and parties have been had.

What I've been lacking this season is the spiritual readiness. I normally do an advent calendar/prayer chain with the kids during December, but this year we never quite got around to that. I did implement an advent wreath during children's church to turn the kids' hearts toward the anticipation of the savior, which I think went well.

3. David and I both participated in a service at the Episcopal church last night, which I really enjoyed. They have a "Lessons & Carols" service each year where they ask people from various churches in the community to come and do readings, which is what I was doing. (David was playing the trumpet.) For such a tiny church, they had an amazing choir, and they started the evening with one of my top three favorite Christmas hymns, "Let All Mortal Flesh Keep Silence." I think a reverent liturgical service is just what my heart needed right now.

4. On a lighter note, we hosted our 2nd annual Christmas party Saturday night, and that went off without a hitch. A little food, a little fun gift exchanging (the highlight of which may have been this book . . . which is illustrated . . . gross!), and a little game-playing, all while the children were entertained by a babysitter upstairs. Perfect.

5. Anyone who knows me well knows that I have a serious aversion to the sound of teeth being brushed. I cannot stand to watch someone brush his/her teeth . . . it kills me. So, Joshua has been making little videos with his ipod lately. He films his stuffed animals, the football game on television, the dog, etc. Well, a few nights ago he brought me his ipod and said, "Mom, you have to watch the video I just made." As I began to watch, I noticed that he was grinning ear-to-ear and trying not to laugh.

He had filmed himself brushing his teeth and tried to trick me into watching it.

He is his father's son.

6. This was our Christmas card this year:



Though I considered going with a more honest photo this year:



6. Somehow the thousands of things I've thought to blog about in the past month are all proving elusive at the moment. So, since I'm at a loss for things with which to entertain you, and there is laundry just waiting to be folded and put away, I will bid you adieu.

And hopefully be back with better thoughts next time. From Georgia. Everything's better in Georgia, right? :)

Save fish. Live better.

I've mentioned before that David is currently obsessed with fish. When David hones in on a new obsession, he goes all out. Fifty-five gallon tank, fish, lobsters, sea snake-ish thingys, fish tank toys . . . the whole nine yards.

Sadly, fish tend to die rather easily, so it's pretty common for the kids to come upstairs with a morning report of who died during the night.

Which is why David buys most of his fish at Walmart. They have a 90-day return policy. That's right. You can return your dead fish.

Last week I was heading to Walmart, which I may have mentioned one or two hundred times is an hour away. To save himself a trip, David asked me to return some fish for him. In case you're wondering where one keeps dead fish, the answer of course is the freezer. At any given time, my freezer contains ice cream, cheese sticks, hamburger meat, a year-old dead grouse (don't ask), and several dead fish. Please come for dinner anytime.

So, David asked me to take his fish back, and I, being the ridiculously great wife I am, agreed. Except that I, being the ridiculously forgetful person I am, sort of forgot.

It's not that I wasn't looking forward to handing the friendly 90-year old greeter man at Walmart four baggies containing dead fish; I was. I just forgot.

Which is why when I discovered them in my van a few days later, I was, for once, very glad that it's been 25 degrees outside.

So, if you see a crazy looking woman carrying ziploc bags of dead fish, and possibly a grouse, into Walmart, please don't identify me when you submit the picture to People of Walmart.

A party for a princess

We had Lauren's birthday party today, so our dining room looked like a pink-and-purple princess bomb had exploded. Which means it looked perfect for a five year-old girl's birthday party. (Wow. Even typing that was difficult. How can Lauren be turning five?)

The party consisted of plenty of laughter, makeup applying, nail painting, jewelry making, cake-eating, and dancing. Lots of dancing.




















He couldn't stand to be left out of the fun:

My flickering torch

One of my favorite ways to unwind after a long day of dealing with bickering children is to sit at the piano and play hymns. As I was playing this evening, I turned in my songbook to one of my favorites (I say that about them all, don't I?): "O' Love That Will Not Let Me Go"

(If you aren't familiar with this hymn, the link above is to a version set to a modern tune with vocals by Sandra McCracken, whom I love.)

As with most lasting hymns, there is story behind this one. It was written in 1882 by George Matheson on the eve of his sister's wedding. Apparently, Matheson had gone blind quite a few years prior, and his fiance had left him upon learning that his sight could not be restored. She told him she couldn't bear to go through life with a blind man, and so it was that his sister became his caregiver for most of his life. On the night before her wedding, the rest of his family was gone overnight, and he was left alone, during which time he reported that he was "overcome with some kind of mental anguish" and that this song was "the fruit of that suffering."

The second verse is what struck me tonight:

"O Light that followest all my way, I yield my flickering torch to Thee. My heart restores its borrowed ray, that in Thy sunshine's blaze its day my brighter, fairer be."

Though it may seem logical that the blind man who wrote this would refer to his own vision as a "flickering torch," it is equally true of mine.

So often I wish God would just give me what I think I want. Let me go where I think I want to go. Do what I think I want to do. I trust wholeheartedly this vision of mine, and despite how often it has led me astray in the past, I cling mightily to it.

How freeing it is to know that there is a Light who follows all my ways and sees the end from the beginning. The path may seem dark and scary sometimes, and I may be left with only shadowy images of what lies along the trail, but I walk with the Light. My own sight may be but a flickering torch, but He is all I need to see.

(The next verse is actually my favorite: "O Joy that seekest me through pain, I cannot close my heart to thee; I trace the rainbow through the rain and feel the promise is not vain that morn shall tearless be.")

A tutorial

Dear husband,

This is a ladle:




This is a strainer:



When serving SOUP to one's children, the former is the better option.

However, I am thankful that I got to go play bunco while you served the children, so there will be no further remarks about your choice of kitchen utensils.

Some Quick Takes

1.

I can't promise there will be seven.

2.

I put my outside Christmas lights up a few days ago. I realize it's not even Thanksgiving yet, so relax; they're not lit up. But, if I've learned anything in my year and a half as a Northerner, it's this: don't turn on your windshield wipers to clear snow until AFTER you close the driver's door.

But of more relevance to this topic: putting up Christmas lights when it's 52 degrees is soooo much better than putting up Christmas lights when it's 22 degrees.

Also, I love staple guns. Another lesson I learned last year: don't put the staples through the wires. Especially not both sides of the staple. David seemed to think that was a big deal.

I must say Pennsylvania has been very educational so far.

3.

Josh is doing cub scouts for the first time this year. I encouraged him to do it because it seemed right up his alley. Hey loves all things boy-ish and outdoorsy. (I can't believe "outdoorsy" doesn't have a squiggly red line under it . . . way to go spellcheck!) So with visions of camping and starting fires without a match and shooting things with a bow-and-arrow and tying cool knots, we signed up for scouting.

So far, it's been mostly work on the part of David and me. Selling popcorn. (me and Josh) Making a rocket for the rocket race. (David) And tonight's endeavor: making a peanut butter-chocolate Christmas tree. (mostly me)

I think I should get a merit badge.

4.

Shadow-the-dog has improves so much lately that he's been allowed to have free reign of the downstairs when we're not home. It's been two weeks now that we've been leaving him loose during the day while we're at work, and so far it's going quite well.

Two curtains torn down in two weeks is not bad, right?

5.

David is obsessed with fish. We added an aquarium to our living room a few months ago, and I think he adds new fish to it every week. (This does not lead to as many fish as one would think when one factors in the purchase-to-death ratio. It seems fish like to eat one another.)

I've always been intrigued by David's ability to enjoy watching a model train travel around a pretend track, and now I'm equally intrigued by his ability to watch little fish swim around a 55-gallon tank.

They're fish. They're swimming. Oh, look . . . now they're swimming the other way.

6.

We are planning to see the movie Unstoppable this weekend. It was filmed in the town next to ours last year, and if you'll recall, I barely missed becoming a Hollywood star. Missed it by thatmuch. I'll try not to be bitter as I look at all the extras who could have been me.

Just wishing

Every week during our Wednesday night church service, the pastor (who is also David's uncle) calls the children to the front of the sanctuary. He gives them each a piece of candy for coming to church (he knows the way to my kids' heart!) and then asks them Bible trivia questions. If they are the first to answer correctly they get more candy or sometimes a dollar.

The pastor will call on the person who had his/her hand up first, but because has has the heart of teddy bear, he always asks, "Who else knew that?" He gives an extra piece of candy to those who say they knew.

Lauren, who is not an idiot, has figured this out and raises her hand instantly after the question is answered and says, "I knew that!" She gets a lot of candy.

Joshua has been the one to answer correctly once or twice, but more often he, too, gets the "I knew it, too" reward. These usually go to the kids who, like Josh and Lauren, get their hands up within a second or two of the first person. Not only that, but when the pastor asks who else knew, they have to get it up again pretty quickly. Josh and Lauren are good at that.

Ethan, on the other hand, has never gotten a second piece of candy. Ever.

He is extremely intelligent. In fact, I suspect he may be the most smartest of all my children . . . don't tell the others I said so.

But he is not fast. He never has been. He takes a long time to process information, and I often have to remind myself to be patient while he processes my question or my instruction. He takes forever to tell a story because he speaks slowly. He is the last to finish his cake at every birthday party, including all of his own. He takes longer to put on his socks than Josh takes to get dressed, use the bathroom, and brush his teeth.

He is smart; he is just not quick.

So tonight he came back to our pew frustrated and struggling not to cry. He said, "Mom, I never get a second piece, and Lauren got four!" "I know," I whispered, "You just have to get your hand up faster." "I try, but there's always a ton of people with their hands up first," he lamented.

I wish there was something I could tell him that would make it better, but it is just a fact of his life that he is not fast. We all have strengths and weaknesses, and there will always be things at which we don't excel or even succeed. I also know that one day he will struggle and fight for things of much greater significance than a Hershey's miniature.

Today it's just a piece of candy, but I hate it for him.

I realize it's not a big deal, but I want to fix it. I want to hold practice drills after school to train him to get his hand up faster. I want to tell the pastor to change the way he does the questions so that the kids who aren't so fast will have a chance. I want to go up with him and jerk his hand into the air so fast the other kids won't even see it happen. I want all the other kids to come down with a sudden inexplicable illness that causes them not to be able to lift their hands.

Okay, maybe not that last one, but what I really want is just to make the whole world look out for and accommodate this precious little person so that he never feels bad about himself. Ever.

I know it won't happen, but what kind of momma would I be if I didn't wish?

7 Quick Takes Friday

1.

Lauren has been going through a clingy phase recently, not wanting me to go to work. She'll beg and plead and barter for me to stay home and does not believe me when I say I have to go.

Lauren: Who says you have to go to work? Did Ms. J say you have to?
Me: No, she's our secretary. She works for me and daddy. She doesn't say I have to work.
L: Does daddy say you have to?
Me: Well, he is in charge at work, but no, I just have to because there are things I have to get done today. I have to make some phone calls and read things and write some things.
L: So, you can just say you DON'T have to work today.

The other night while I was giving her a bath, I told her that I was working the next day. (I only work three days a week, by the way.) She started again with the "who says?" so I explained that I had to go to court.

Me: I have to go to court. The judge said I have to be there.
Lauren (in a lightbulb-going-off voice): Ooooohh, so the JUDGE says when you have to work!
Me: Yes . . . sometimes.

She's still not convinced I had to go to work the day before because the judge didn't say so. That's her new question now whenever I go to work: "Mommy, did the judge say you have to?"

2.

The kids got school pictures back this week. Pardon the dirt on my scanner.

Joshua, 2nd grade:



Ethan, 1st grade:



Lauren, pre-school:

3.

I had to go to Olean again today, because, well, apparently that's what I do on Fridays. Drive an hour to the dry cleaner and Walmart. And to pick up the glass for our table. Again.

Since the glass is quite big, I had to take all of the seats out of the van except the two front seats. So, now we have just gone all-out redneck and have all the van seats on the porch. Since I can't unload the glass by myself, that's where the seats remain for now.

So if you drive by my house right now, you will see my kids sitting in the van seats on the porch eating pretzels. A sofa on the lawn and we're all set.

4.

I was listening to one of my favorite hymns during the drive - "Jesus, I My Cross Have Taken." I'm pretty sure I've mentioned it on here before, but it's worth repeating. One line in particular spoke to me today:

"Soul, then know thy full salvation. Rise o'er sin and fear and care;
Joy to find in every station, something still to do or bear."

All of us understand "doing." We ask God what He wants us to do. We keep busy with what we're currently doing and look to the next thing we have to do. We find our worth in what we do. We feel less significant, less worthy, if we're not doing.

But, sometimes we're not asked to do. We're asked to bear.

Sometimes all we can do is bear.

5.

I've been meaning for quite some time to write a post about music. About the different types of music used in worship and why I find some types more conducive to my own worship than others.

I grew up in a non-denominational charismatic church singing mostly praise choruses. I attended a Baptist church for a few years in upper elementary/junior high school, so of course, that involved only hymns. (In fact, to the best of my recollection, it involved only about a dozen hymns!) In high school and college I was back in a non-denominational church where we sang "contemporary worship songs." These are similar to the choruses of the 80's but usually longer and with more depth. Many, as most newer worship songs do, contained verses and a chorus, rather than just a chorus repeated over and over. and over. and over.

For the last few years of our time in Georgia, we attended a Presbyterian PCA) church where the music was almost exclusively hymns, but they were different hymns from the ones I'd sung in the Baptist church all those years before. They were deep and insightful hymns, rich with meaning. Not only that, but many had been set to newer music to make them more "singable" than the tunes that accompanied them 200, 50, or even 15 years ago.

So, here we are today back in a charismatic church that calls itself non-denominational but is quite heavily Pentacostal. We sing mostly the choruses of the 1960's - 1980's. A few more recent songs, if by recent you mean within the past decade. (And ALL of them are song in a southern-gospel style. How did I manage to move 1,000 miles north and end up in a southern-gospel-singing church?!)

All this is to say, I've spent a lot of time thinking about worship music. I LOVE worship music. I love the old, old hymns; I love the modern worship songs. I listen to worship music when I drive, when I clean, when I work. When I play the piano, I play mostly for worship. I love it. It speaks to my soul.

What I do not love are 12 word choruses. I'm sorry, I just don't.

I've heard them called 7-11 songs, because they have seven words, and you sing them eleven times. I think that's a pretty accurate description.

Here's my issue with them, other than the fact that they are dated and southern-gospel: they don't give your mind anything to focus on.

I find that when I sing the same 10 words over and over, my mind begins to wander. Sure, sometimes I'll feel my spirit moved and be truly, deeply, focused on Christ. But not usually.

The eastern religions use chanting as a way to empty the mind. Repeating the same thing over and over and over empties the mind; it doesn't fill it. Some may say that emptying the mind is good in worship, because then the Holy Spirit can speak to a person more clearly. That may be true, but in my experience, that's not what usually happens. I'm focused on the Holy Spirit for the first two, three, maybe even four repetitions, but at some point, my mind begins to think about how I'm standing, how my shoes feel, whether the kids are behaving, what the singers are wearing, what we're having for lunch, etc.

That is not the case when I sing hymns that are full of thoughtful, intellectual lyrics. God gave us minds to understand the truth of the Gospel, and I find that I can worship Him more fully when my mind has things to grab onto. Like this:

Jesus, I my cross have taken, all to leave and follow Thee;
Destitute, despised, forsaken, Thou from hence my all shall be.
Perish every fond ambition, all I’ve sought or hoped or known;
Yet how rich is my condition! God and heav’n are still mine own.

Let the world despise and leave me, they have left my Savior, too;
Human hearts and looks deceive me; Thou art not, like man, untrue.
And while Thou doest smile upon me, God of wisdom, love and might,
Foes may hate and friends disown me, show Thy face and all is bright.

Go, then, earthly fame and treasure! Come, disaster, storm and rain!
In Thy service pain is pleasure; with Thy favor, loss is gain.
I have called Thee, “Abba, Father”; I have stayed my heart on Thee:
Storms may howl, and clouds may gather, all must work for good to me.

Man may trouble and distress me, ’twill but drive me to Thy breast;
Life with trials hard may press me; heav’n will bring me sweeter rest.
Oh, ’tis not in grief to harm me, while Thy love is left to me;
Oh, ’twere not in joy to charm me, were that joy unmixed with Thee.

Take, my soul, thy full salvation; rise o’er sin, and fear, and care;
Joy to find in every station something still to do or bear:
Think what Spirit dwells within thee; what a Father’s smile is thine;
Think that Jesus died to win thee, child of heav’n, canst thou repine?

Hasten on from grace to glory, armed by faith, and winged by prayer,
Heav’n’s eternal days before thee, God’s own hand shall guide us there.
Soon shall close thy earthly mission, swift shall pass thy pilgrim days;
Hope soon change to glad fruition, faith to sight, and prayer to praise

6.

Considering how long #5 was, I'll mercifully end now. :)

Head over to Conversion Diary for more!

Like a nocturnal Houdini

Some people play musical chairs. My children play musical beds. Especially Lauren.

She had gotten into a bad habit recently of coming into our room during the night. I perpetuated this bad habit by being too tired to take her back to bed, so I would just give in and let her stay.

Eventually, I grew weary of this arrangement what with all the extra elbows and knees and three inches of bed she would leave for me to slumber in, so I began saying no. When she came in during the night and asked to get in our bed, I would drag myself up and take her back to her own bed.

Seemingly, this would lead to her staying in bed, right?

Not quite.

Apparently, being told "no" did not cause her to stop coming; it just caused her to stop asking. I would awaken at some point during the wee hours of the morning, and there she would be pressed up against me like a magnet. She somehow perfected the quiet, stealth-like climb right over my sleeping body into the middle of our bed. After a few mornings of this, David and I asked each other, "Did you say she could get in here?" Nope, she just sneaked in.

Of course, I told her she needed to stop doing this. No climbing in our bed without permission.

That worked. No more Lauren in the bed come morning. Great, I thought, she's finally sleeping in her own bed all night again.

Wrong.

At 4:00 this morning, Ethan came in my room. "Mom, who put Lauren in my bed?"

7 Quick Takes Friday

1.

Lauren has been composing and playing songs on the piano lately. All the time. Until today every song title ended with the word "forever."

"Joy Forever"
"We'll Be Here Forever"
"Boys Forever" (Yes, I raised my eyebrows at that one. I'm hoping it's because her favorite song right now is "When the Boys Light Up" by Newsboys.)
"Snow Forever" (I do NOT like that one, though given where we live, I fear it may be prophetic.)

That was her entire repertoire until yesterday.

Yesterday afternoon she was making up another new song the piano, and I overheard her telling her friend Ally what the song was called:

"I Seek My Deadness"

I must have had her repeat it fifteen times before I was convinced that's what she really said. Flabbergasted, I asked her where she came up with that. She said:

It goes, "My father died, my hope is found, and I bow and seek my deadness."

Umm, if I didn't know that she is the world's happiest kid who literally sings about butterflies when she's laying in her bed at night, I would be really concerned!

2.

When I told David about the song title, he noted that it could just be a sign of her spiritual maturity. Technically, we should all be seeking our deadness, right?

As if on cue, just as I was typing this, she wrote another one and asked me if I wanted to hear her play it. She said it's called, "My Blood Is Here, But My Sin Is Not."

I'm thinking maybe the hymns I often play are going over her head a little, but she's coming up with remarkably spiritually sound song titles.

3.

After four months of all-Super-Mario-Brothers-all-the-time, I am happy that the kids are rediscovering Wii Sports.

Surely flailing like madmen and screaming at the television while pretending to box is better for them than darting up and down tunnels and stomping on mushrooms, right?

Though, I must admit hearing my eight year-old yell, "Make him cry, 'Mommy!'" while playing Wii boxing is slightly disconcerting.

Make him cry, "Mommy?" Where does he get this?

4.

Okay, I think that's enough stories about the freakishly bizarre things my kids have said this week.

5.

Today was 4 year-old preschool Field Trip and Harvest Party Day. Here's Lauren and her class dressed as scarecrows for a party and field trip to a local nursing home:

6.

Yes, as you can see in that last picture, it was quite cold outside today. Yes, Lauren was shivering. Yes, she's wearing capris.

They were supposed to wear blue jeans or overalls and a plaid shirt. Being my little fashionista princess, she HATES blue jeans, so she does not even own a pair. The best I could dig up was a pair of denim capris. It didn't occur to me until it started snowing that I should have made her put tights or leggings under them!

Yep, I've got that Mom of the Year award in the bag now.

7.

Head over to Conversion Diary for more Quick Takes, and have a great weekend! May it be warmer where you are than it is here.

Notes to Self

1. If you have more noodles than spaghetti sauce and decide to put the huge clump of leftover noodles down the sink, make sure to run the garbage disposal.

2. If you forget to run the garbage disposal, and clogged and leaking pipes ensue, please, PLEASE don't run the dishwasher.

3. If you have already set the dishwasher to run during the night, remember to TURN IT OFF, or you will awaken to a wet, sopping, disgusting flooded kitchen in the morning.

Sincerely,
The Voice of Experience

"Let people love you"

Today was Joshua's 8th birthday.

I cannot believe my first baby, the one who made made me a mom, the one who slept wrapped in a glow-blanket for jaundice, who refused to sleep unless I was holding him, who learned right along with me all about swaddling and breastfeeding and diaper rash and bouncy seats, has been on this earth for eight years.

Tomorrow I will post pictures of his Super Mario birthday party and his favorite birthday present ever, his ipod.

Tonight, though, I wanted to share with you what Lauren "wrote" for Joshua this morning.

She was distraught when she realized it was his birthday and she did not have a card for him, so I suggested she make him one.

Lauren: Mommy, how do you spell "Dear Josh?"

I told her.

Lauren: Mommy, how do you spell, "I love you?"

I told her.

Lauren: How do you spell "Happy Birthday?"

I told her.

Lauren: How do you spell, "It's your day to let people love you?"

I sat in stunned silence. And then I wrote it for her and told her it was the best birthday wish I'd ever heard. (Especially from a four year-old!)

7 Quick Takes Friday

1.

I'm having an MRI this afternoon. I've had several, so I'm not overly freaked out about it, but they always make me nervous.

It's not so much the closed-space, claustrophobia issues that most people have.

It's the irrational fear that I have metal somewhere on me. I double and triple check that I don't have on my wedding rings or a necklace, but there's still always that concern that I have a steel plate in my head that I don't remember.

Is it bad that I think I wrote about this last time I had an MRI, but I'm not sure?

2.

Words cannot describe how glad I will be when soccer season is over. This three-kids-on-three-different-teams thing is wearing me thin. Add coaching one of those teams, and I've about reached my limit.

3.

Had to take Joshua back to the dentist in Corning, NY yesterday to have the kid version of a root canal. He did really well, but boy did it make me wish we had a pediatric dentist closer than 75 miles away.

4.

I realized something while driving to Corning. There is a pretty simple formula for creating a small town. If you'd like to try it, here's the recipe:

1 Dollar General
1 Fox's Pizza
1 Buchanan Brother's Pharmacy
1 Tastee Freeze (or some other "uniquely" spelled ice cream place)
1 Acorn or 1 Sheetz
1 hardware store
1 VFW or American Legion Post
1 school
a few churches

Combine all of the above within a 1-2 mile radius, and you have just about every town within 50 miles of my house, my own town included.

5.

My momma is coming tomorrow!!

Not only that, but she's bringing two of my four awesome nieces, one of my amazing cousins, and one fantastic friend who is like an aunt to me because she's been my mom's close friend for so much of my life.

If I can survive till tomorrow and stay awake all the way to Buffalo to pick them up, I will be one happy gal.

6.

Which is why I should be cleaning my house instead of writing Quick Takes. Oh, and did I mention that Josh's birthday party is the day after they arrive?

It's official. I've lost my mind.

7.

For Quick Takes by people who are not as desperately in need of getting off the computer as I am, head over to Conversion Diary.

Perspective (If you have a weak stomach, maybe skip this post)

Yesterday I complained to my secretary about what a lousy morning I was having.

The day began with freezing temperatures, pouring rain, allergies that were making me sneeze non-stop, and an annual visit to the GYN. (Yes, I know that's just what you were hoping to read about when you hopped on the internet today. Don't worry, it gets worse.)

It seemed like a pretty miserable morning.

Until today.

This morning began with Lauren coming to me at 7:55 to complain about a "big scab" on her head. It was a tick. A big one.

Yuck, I'm shuddering just thinking about it.

The next half-hour was spent trying to get the tick to release its death grip on Lauren's scalp. No luck. Finally got some of the tick off, but not the most important parts.

So, at around 8:30 I went to the kitchen to call the doctor's office to set up an appointment for them to finish the tick extraction. When I walked in the kitchen I saw a sight from hell.

We set a few mouse-traps last night because we've seen evidence of mice the past few days. I completely forgot about it as I walked into the kitchen this morning.

Instead of the sight of a dead mouse in a trap (which is disgusting but preferable to the alternative), I saw the following: an empty trap, a half-chewed piece of cheese, and blood. Lots and lots of mouse blood.

Seriously, just kill me now. I take back all my complaints about the little sniffles I had yesterday. Please take away the tick and give me back my sniffles. Let me trade the bloody horror scene for a pap smear. I'll take three!

Perspective. If only we could get it in advance.

Fun Run

If you've ever lived in a small town, you know there's nothing they love more than a yard sale. Except a parade. And a festival.

This weekend was the Falling Leaves Festival, and the festivities ended with a 5k/Fun Run to benefit the local library.

Being Beck, I read about the 1/2 mile Fun Run last week, meant to mention it to the kids, and then promptly forgot about it. Luckily, our house is very close to the library, so the sight of people mulling around in running gear jogged my memory, pun intended.

The kids were so excited to be in a real race:










All of the kids did great in the race.

Joshua came in second place but was very disappointed not to take first. He was in the lead the whole race, got to within about 10 feet of the finish line (which was not clearly marked), and thought he was done. As he slowed down, the little boy behind him sprinted past to take the win. So unclear was it that Josh didn't even realize he had not won until Ethan told him a few minutes later.

(I encouraged Joshua that second place is great, that he ran excellently, and that if he'd not slowed down he definitely would have won. I think I'll save the life lesson in that for another day when he's not so disappointed.)

Ethan took fifth place overall and held his own with the big boys the entire race. He asked me several times after the race, "Mommy, did you think I'd get 5th place?" I'm not sure what the best answer is because I did not think he would do well. I generally don't think of him as super athletic or competitive, but I'm starting to think that is simply a downfall of comparing him to Josh who is ULTRA athletic and competitive. The truth is Ethan is one of the better players on his soccer team (he scored three goals on Saturday), and he ran hard and fast today. I think I need to be careful of not pigeon-holing my kids based on my preconceived notions.

Lauren, of course, ran hard and did well. She was the first "little" girl to cross the finish line, coming in behind the bigger girls but among the little boys her own age. She was extremely proud of herself and told me she's an "awesome runner, aren't I?"