The Next Hypo-Allergenic Pillow

My graham cracker heart crumbled when yesterday I saw a little child of 2 asleep in the front of a grocery cart with a bag of mini marshmallows under his head. He must have been having sugary sweet dreams on his 16 oz pillow.

The Fading Allure of the Far Parking Spot

Don't mind my incoherent ramblings. That's what you get at 2 in the morning when sleep fails to visit this girl. I was thinking about how parking lots have played a part in my life. When we were newlyweds, Ben and I would drive to a nearby high school, get out and look for pennies in the vacant parking lot. If we found forty cents without a quarter in the mix and used a buck fifty in gas to get there, we were illogically thrilled. As time has gone by, penny spotting still brings idiotic joy. I now pick up a penny and think with the way interest rates are in the bank, a penny seems a more valuable return than in '98. (And I've heard that a penny cost more than a penny to make in metal...no wonder our government is broke.) Keeping this in mind, I have never minded parking a little further in a parking lot to get a longer corridor in which to look for coinage. When the weather is clear, why do drivers keep circling for that perfect spot right next to the last handicap space? Instead, why not park out and power walk to the front door? In the process if you have quick vision and stooping ability you might find that nickel from your birth year.

Well, recently I know why distant parking spots remain open and close ones do not. It started with an extravagant Christmas gift from my husband. My first pair of cowboy boots. They are a beautiful chestnut brown with fancy stitching. They only make me a few inches taller, but mentally I'm sky high when I wear them. Who would of thought that cowboy boots would change my parking patterns? Now I am the driver circling for that elusive close spot, because the economist in me doesn't want to wear out perfectly good shoe leather. I want these boots to last forever.

Alpha Alex

The beginning of our life with kids started 12 years ago. As I was being admitted to the hospital, my doctor warned us that our baby might have problems because I wasn't term for another six weeks. Well, we were blessed with a healthy boy and the tiniest of our children. He was a whopping four pounds thirteen ounces on his journey home to our efficiency apartment a week later. In a mere six hundred square feet our baby seemed the perfect size. He took up a small amount of space and could sleep in a stroller in the hall and bathroom vanity area which couldn't really be differentiated from the living room and dining room. In a bed with wheels, when Alex started to exercise his vocal chords we could roll him into the galley kitchen. We had it made.

What a thoughtful, disciplined and hardworking young man he is today. Happy 12th birthday, Alpha Alex.

Blue-lipped Mermaids and a Fritz

My three crazy children felt that swimming in icy water would be delightful. Several times Jane hesitated and comically said, "Here goes nothing." But she did indeed take the plunge. The girls had extra incentive to swim because they received mermaid tails for Christmas from Santa (the next door neighbor). After seeing his wet-headed sisters live to boast about it, Fritz also swam across the pool. The temperature of the water was 58 degrees, it was like swimming in Lake Michigan.

The sweetest story

Mary and Joseph


The angel declared the good news of great joy.


The shepherds listened.


And the wise men brought gifts...a spreadable butter tub with coins inside, a pink New Testament and a basket full of myrrh for Baby Jesus.

We sure are missing the brothers. The stuffed animals were a little less responsive.

My little birdies in their finery

Packed and ticketed

So happy to hear that my brother and family will be boarding a plane tonight homeward bound. The airline graciously rerouted them so they would not need visas for their children (which would have delayed them in Uganda till December and incurred considerably more expense).

God acted on their behalf. Prayers were answered.

A snafu

Keep praying, here is what my brother wrote yesterday:


Well, friends, it seems as if the Lord has different plans for us. It's a long story but as we were boarding our flight in Uganda at midnight tonight, the airline told us that we needed to have transit visas for our kids because we were flying through two European airports. As US citizens, Shayna and I are exempt from those visas but our kids are still Ugandan and apparently have different requirements. It's a real shame that Continental did not tell us anything about this when we booked our flights, but this is what we had to do.


They off-loaded our luggage (well, half of it and the other half accidentally was kept on the plane on its way to Brussels) and told us we would have to stay in Uganda. So we will need to go to the Brussels Airlines office tomorrow and try to find another itinerary that is soon and then we will need to go to the Belgian embassy and try to obtain the transit visas for the kids. Brussels Airlines does not fly out of Uganda everyday so we know that it will not be tomorrow, but we are hoping for maybe later this week.


All that to say, you can take off the party hats and store the confetti for now until further notice. We will let you know when we next plan our trip home. Until then, please pray for our attitudes to remain positive. The kids especially struggled with this whole event as they didn't understand why we couldn't go home.


We trust God's good plans and remain unshaken in Him.


Andrew

Forever home

Today my brother and his wife get to travel half-way across the world with their adorable children. From Uganda to Texas is a mighty journey. And I am sure they would covet prayers for patience, good behavior, parental energy and children's sleep. Tomorrow their son, 4, and daughter, 2, will step off that plane onto the soil of their new adopted country. At last, they will be in their forever home. What a joyous occasion!

Fritz and the Beanstalk

A week ago, Fritz planted a seed on a field trip. Once it popped soil, it has grown two to three inches a day. Is it a magic beanstalk?

The Grand Cookie Master and the Porcupine

These definitely say, "Eat me." If you can't hear them, lean your ear closer to your monitor and watch a couple more disappear. My husband ought to be dubbed the Grand Cookie Master. He mixes the ingredient without an electric mixer, because God has equipped him with muscly arms. My arms wouldn't last past the fifth stroke. With a measuring cup and brown sugar, he can make fatally yummy chocolate chip cookies. Last night he took his cookies a tier higher by embellishing them with pecans (which he picked and shelled in his sparse free time). I am serious. He and the kids have been gathering nuts at the park like squirrels preparing for snow. There are bags of pecans drying in the laundry room to prove it.


How do I smoothly transition from gourmet cookies to the lowly porcupine? Well, when Persistent Pants asks me for another cookie for the umpteenth time, I am going to try to smile and reply patiently. The chalk sketch is my visual reminder that I can become "the porcupine." I unfortunately know that my words and tones of voice can become like quills stabbing those around me. Best Beware. And when the voices asking for things makes the noise level deafening and I am tempted to let out a war whoop and string my bow, I am going to look over to that blackboard and realize I have a choice. Let this quill not fly.

Zero Day

Fritzgerald, Fritzsimmons, Fritzpatrick, Fritzwilliam and Felix all turned 9 today. Fancy that! The boy I love turned nine too.