Gushing

I just hope they don't do this to their classroom teachers!

School at home is good. -- New England Primer

I am thankful, every day, that we are able to send our kids to Veritas Academy! Seriously. It is a wonderful school and I feel so blessed by them! I was originally planning to exclusively homeschool my kids. It's something I've always wanted to do because I love learning and teaching. I did lots of research and did a little at-home preschool for Lila and a few of her friends.

When I finally decided it was time to pick a Kindergarten curriculum, I freaked out! There are approximately 735 different Kindergarten curricula to choose from. Not to mention all the different pieces you can pick up from here and there, and all the ways that you can homeschool for free. Then there's the matter of what needs to be taught in Kinder and what doesn't, which everyone has a different opinion on. I was on the verge of a total brain meltdown!

Then I saw Veritas mentioned in an email on a homeschooling Yahoo group I was part of. I was intrigued enough to take a closer look. Lo and behold! The school was five minutes from my house, and provided a Classical Christian education in a University Model format. There are entire books written on what each element of that description means, but here's a brief description. What I will tell you is that it was exactly what I was looking for (without even knowing it)!

The kids get to experience a classroom environment on Monday and Wednesday and I get to homeschool them on Tuesday and Thursday. Friday is a Flex Day, which has grand aspirations, but really turns out to be the day that we catch up, run errands, and have doctor's appointments. The curricula are chosen for me and the homework laid out by the classroom teachers. My job is the FUN part - teaching the material! It is the best of both worlds!

What might be the very best part of all, for me, is how very supportive the staff and faculty are. They do everything they can to communicate frequently and clearly. They are happy to answer questions and sit down to discuss concerns. They provide training in how to teach the curricula as well as opportunities to learn how to be a better parent and person. I don't know what the kids would say is the best part of Veritas for them, but I do know that they both love it!

One of my Top 10 Veritas moments: Lila was being a butt one morning (last school year) and took so long to get ready that Doug had to leave for work without taking her to school. That meant that I had to take her to school. Not her favorite choice. She decided that she was not going to put her shoes on and she was not going to school. I calmly explained that going to school was her responsibility and I would be taking here there - shoes or no shoes.

I loaded her up into the car and delivered her to the office. They called the Head of the Grammar School down and I privately explained the situation to her. She said, "Okay, no problem." Then she spoke privately with Lila. I left, knowing she was in good hands. I later found out that Lila was told basically the same thing I had told her - that being in the classroom was her responsibility and that's where she needed to be.

She went through most of the morning with no shoes on, contentedly put them on when the teacher finally asked her to, and all was well. The whole situation could NOT have been handled more gracefully or lovingly and it never happened again.

Music

What is a home without a Bible? 'Tis a home where daily bread for the body is provided, but the soul is never fed. -- Charles Meigs

I am not a fan of Contemporary Christian Music (CCM), generally speaking. I put up with it because most of it does glorify God and you can't find really cool Christian music on the radio. Well, except when it finds its way onto other radio stations. Those songs don't usually get played on CCM stations, however, because they aren't overtly Christian enough. So, I split my time between the best of the available CCM stations and KGSR, which is a perfectly Austin-y radio station.

(To be fair, I do like some of what I hear on the CCM station.)

What this post is really about is a band that I discovered through a Pandora station and I love them! They have beautiful songs and great music and they are interesting! The band is called Gungor and here's my favorite song, so far:

BEAUTIFUL THINGS
by Gungor

All this pain...
I wonder if I'll ever find my way.
I wonder if my life could really change, at all.
All this earth...
Could all that is lost ever be found?
Could a garden come up from this ground, at all?

You make beautiful things,
You make beautiful things out of dust.
You make beautiful things,
You make beautiful things out of us.

All around,
Hope is springin up from this old ground.
Out of chaos, life is being found in You.

You make beautiful things,
You make beautiful things out of dust.
You make beautiful things,
You make beautiful things out of us.

You make me new,
You are making me new.
You make me new,
You are making me new. (making me new.)

Sinners

We are not amused.

The Bible will keep you from sin or sin will keep you from the Bible. -- D. L. Moody

My kids have been at each other's throats today! It's like somebody fed them Crazy Juice for breakfast. Often, when I'm having my Bible time in the morning, they will start arguing downstairs. What makes me nuts -- and this is what they did today -- is when they bring the argument upstairs to my bedroom. Do they feel the need for an audience, or what? I'm trying to have a few minutes of peaceful prayer, for cryin' out loud!

This morning, after finally managing to eject them from my bedroom, they took their arguing to another part of the house. There was no peace until we started our school work. That was all fine until I asked Lila to re-do some very sloppy handwriting work. She tried turning her attitude on me at that point, which did not work out for her. She got to spend the rest of the morning in her room. And on and on it went, all day.

The worst of it definitely came when Lila found out that Eli was one chore away from earning a video, but she had lost that opportunity for the day. I went outside to talk on the phone for a few minutes and came back in to find Eli, sitting on the toilet and screaming. Lila had tried to prevent him from doing his last chore because she didn't want him to get a video either. She attempted to trap him in the hall closet and managed to smash his finger in the process.

SERIOUSLY?!?

They were still crazy, all the way up until bedtime, but it had taken a more playful turn by dinner, thank goodness. Doug and I had already decided that we were going to banish them to the kitchen for the remainder of the meal if they started even one argument at the dining room table! Little sinners.

I really hope that tomorrow is less exciting.

Tantrum

In a calm sea every man is a pilot. -- John Ray, 1705

I avoid talking about politics as much as possible. I find it, by and large, to be fruitless and annoying.

[mounting soap box]

What I find even more annoying, at the moment, is the way the House, Senate, and President are all acting like little kids!

Forget which side of the policy debate you stand on, they are acting like 3-year-olds fighting over a favorite toy.

Actually, I think the image that reflects the situation best is this: They are sitting in a room, with their backs turned to one another, holding their breath.

Eventually, someone is going to have to breathe and then they're going to look stupid!

Pass a friggin' budget and then address the Affordable Care Act separately.

Don't even get me started on how stupid it seems to me to go further into debt... in order to pay our debts. That is the opposite of logic.

[leaving soap box]

Thank you and good night.

Eli for President!

Evaluation

Good children must fear God all day. -- New England Primer

Sometime before school started this year, our family began the practice (tradition?) of evaluating our day over dinner. We first answer the question, "What do you feel that you did well today?" After we've all had our turn, we answer the question, "What do you feel that you did not do well today?"

That has two follow-up questions: "What do you need to do to make that right?" and/or "What will you do differently next time?"

This sort of reflection and self-evaluation comes easily to some of us (Eli and me) and it's very difficult for others (Doug and Lila). I think we've finally gotten a good rhythm going now. When we sit down to eat, we pray together, and then have 2 (or more) minutes of silence. That gives everyone a chance to think through their day as they munch and come up with their answers to both questions. Then, once everyone is ready, we share.

This whole thing was my idea (picked up at Veritas' Family Education Week), but even I have been surprised at how beneficial it's been! When we first began the practice, the kids had a very difficult time apologizing - especially to one another. Over time, they've gotten much more comfortable with apologies, as well as with asking for, offering, and receiving forgiveness. I'm REALLY proud of them!

It's also been a good way for Doug and me to practice transparency and accountability with our kids. (that is grammatically correct. look it up.) We are giving examples of how to celebrate our victories and how to humbly admit our failures. We apologize to one another just as often as they do and we are open to the kids' suggestions for how we can make amends and how we could do things differently.

Lila and Eli don't always enjoy it, sometimes I'm so tired that I don't want to share, and it's a daily labor of love for Doug, but it's one of our best family traditions!

Shameless

Don't set foot on the path of the wicked; don't proceed in the way of evil ones. -- Proverbs 4:14

It is no secret that I dislike cockroaches. (biggest. understatement. ever.)

Actually, it's more like a big ugly phobia. When I am confronted with a-- Okay, first of all, I refer to them as Evil Hell Beasts, or EHBs for short. Just saying (or thinking) the 'c' word is enough to make me shudder and squirm.

Anyway, when I am confronted with an EHB, there is usually a lot of jumping and screaming... and today was no exception. I don't know what has gotten into the little bastards, but they keep finding their way into our house and that is not okay.

This evening, just before I started cooking dinner, I looked up and saw one in the living room. Cue the jumping and screaming. My daughter, 8 years old and maddeningly level-headed (AT TIMES), calmly took my arm and ushered me out of the room, saying, "Don't look at it. Just go cook dinner."

I took this to mean that she was going to deal with The Issue, but she just sat down and started playing her video game again. With a definite note of panic in my voice, I told her to "Kill it!" I have no shame, folks.

She said, "I will not kill it! I'll catch it and let it go in the grass."

This sounded like the stupidest thing I'd ever heard, but I couldn't argue with her. It's not like I was going to kill the thing myself and I couldn't have it running around the house. She grabbed a tissue and tried to catch it, but she only succeeded in chasing it under a living room speaker. So, she went back to her video game. Come on!

I thought I'd be safe in the kitchen, but the next thing I know, the EHB is cruising around the bar and into the kitchen WITH me! Again, there was jumping and screaming. We're not talking about little fake screams here. Before this was over, my throat hurt from the screaming.

Then began this awful dance of Lila trying to catch the EHB. The EHB hiding until she gave up. And then the EHB chasing me around the kitchen so that I jumped and screamed. A lot.

I think the worst part was when Lila tried to catch the thing and it accelerated and she giggled and said, as though this were somehow endearing, "They are fast little suckers!" I almost vomited.

I finally declared to anyone who would listen that I was not going back into the kitchen until it was gone. I even texted Doug and told him that I hoped he wasn't very hungry because I couldn't cook dinner while that thing was trying to kill me-- er, I mean 'touch' me. I even thought about going to a neighbor's house and asking him to come and rescue me (they weren't home).

At one point, Lila said to me, with a great deal of exasperation, "You're afraid of a little bug! . . . Well, it's medium, but it's NOT going to hurt you!"

Clearly, she doesn't understand the irrational aspect of phobias. By the time Doug got home from work, I was standing in the front yard (increased heart rate and sweating - no joke). The first words I said to him were, "I'm not going back into the house until it's dead."

Praise God, Doug finds this little "quirk" of mine endearing. He dealt with The Issue and I was able to come back inside and cook dinner. It took about half an hour before I stopped periodically whimpering and shuddering.

Brothers

Not a bad boy. (Yet.)

A bad boy has woe. -- McGuffey Primer

Doug and I like to use real stories from our lives as examples when explaining things to the kids. The other night, we were totally selling our brothers out by telling stories of the stupid things they did when they were young. It started off as a discussion of peer pressure (don't remember how we got to that topic in the first place).

And then it devolved into a sort of Oh-yeah-well-listen-to-what-my-brother-did!-fest. I'm not sure we conveyed quite the message we were going for, however. I think that all the giggling we did probably diluted the impact of the stories.

Highlights:

After band practice one night, Unnamed Brother #1 went joy-riding with some of his band mates. They were feeling feisty and decided to run over a trash-can with their car. (only a teenage boy would think THAT sounds like fun.) They were spotted by a person who got their license plate number and called the police. This resulted in arrested teenagers, a shocked and awed sibling, a very angry father, and a frighteningly silent ride home from the police station.

Unnamed Sibling #2 decided to sneak out of the house one night and steal his sibling's car to drive around town. (again with the joy-riding!) Unfortunately, this brother was not old enough to drive and he got pulled over by a cop who noticed that his headlights were not turned on. This also resulted in an arrested teenager, a shocked and awed sibling, a very angry father, and a frighteningly silent ride home from the police station.

I fully expect one of the kids to bring these things up at the next family gathering. Under the right circumstances, that could result in an Oh-yeah-well-listen-to-what-your-mom/dad-did!-fest. What hath we wrought!

Sarcasm

Incredible Hulk Pancake: Don't make
him angry. You wouldn't like him when
he's angry!

I cannot, nor I will not, hold me still. My tongue, though not my heart, shall have his will. -- Shakespeare

I am a very sarcastic person. Try as I might to be sweet and soft-spoken, the sarcasm fairly oozes from my being. A large portion of my family is this way, which is where I learned a lot of it. I have a caustic sense of humor.

Over the years, I have gotten better at holding my tongue - in certain situations. I do my best not to level smart-assed barbs at my children, for example. And I don't tell strangers when I think they are doing something stupid. But there are definite weaknesses in my Sarcasm Retaining Wall.

There are some people, in particular, who are able to get under my skin with very little effort. Unfortunately, I rarely hold my tongue in response. (Or rather, it must seem that way. Truly, you can't imagine the number of things that go through my head, but don't make it past my lips.) I have become a master of saying unloving things and labeling it as Brutally Honest, but No Offense.

At least one person has noticed, and today she was loving enough to bring it to my attention. I rapidly went through my typical responses: DEFENSIVE, ANGRY, SELF-RIGHTEOUS. What surprised me is that, just as rapidly, I settled into an unexpected response. It went something like this: "That's true. I recognize it. I own it. I need to change it."

Is that a new defense? Pretending not to be upset, so that the other person doesn't think I care what they have to say? Or is it a sign of growth? Humility? I guess the real test will come with time. Am I repentant; ready to change my path? Or do I go on with life as always, brushing off the advice that was given?

I've already mentioned that I try to be kind and hold my tongue, but I think I see the real problem here. Instead of trying to hold back the burning words, I should be praying that God would remove them altogether. If the corrosion is removed from my heart, then it cannot come out of my mouth.

Old prayer: "Lord, please help me to be loving toward _____. Help me speak to them kindly."

New prayer: "Lord, please change my heart. Fill it with words that build up, rather than words that destroy."

Freebrain!

Disclaimer: This post was composed by a woman with a headache. She cannot promise high quality writing.

This is one of the people who
makes my life freaking awesome!

All the streams flow to the sea, yet the sea is never full. -- Ecclesiastes 1:7

Life can be very much like running on a treadmill at times. Get up, eat breakfast, answer questions, feed the children and animals, do dishes, answer questions, eat lunch, clean the house, do laundry, answer questions, cook dinner, clean up after dinner, bathe the kids, put them to bed, stare stupidly into space, go to bed, get up tomorrow and do it all over again. I love life, but in the dark moments it can seem so pointless.

It is God's love for me that gives me purpose. A desire to please Him and know him better gives me drive and direction. For the longest time, I thought that I was who I was and there was no escaping or changing it. It's been a rough road getting here, but I now believe that I am who I am and God can change my heart while I change my habits. I mean really, I'm barely recognizable as the same person who moved to Austin in 1996!

The richness in daily life comes from relationship with others. Since I have made drastic cut-backs in my media time, I am finding (NOT surprisingly) that I crave more human interaction. Since I'm not constantly texting people and checking Facebook, I want to see people in person (or at least talk to them on the phone). And what a better conversation can be had in person than in brief bursts of noncontextualized information!

You'd better sit down for this one... I've actually started answering my phone when it rings because I want to talk to people!

With my TV viewing limited, I'm going to bed earlier and waking up more easily. Since I'm not allowing myself to do three things at once while watching TV, I'm finding it much easier to fall asleep when I do go to bed! Now that I've (mostly) tamed that damned Candy Crush beast, I have more time to read books, which is something that I dearly love. Already, I feel my ability to focus increasing and my mind sharpening!

I don't know if they have noticed, but I am giving my children much more undivided attention. That is priceless!

I still look longingly at my phone sometimes (thinking of Candy Crush) and wonder how many comments and 'Like's I've got on Facebook, but I am SO glad that God opened my eyes to the ways that I've been handicapping myself! When I look at what I was spending most of my time doing, it's no wonder that life was starting to seem pointless.

Crowded

My bed is like a little boat. -- Robert Louis Stevenson

At approximately 5:45 this morning, my little boat became so full that someone had to be thrown overboard. I woke to find that Eli had taken over most of my pillow and my side of the bed. He learned a long time ago that he should come to my side of the bed because he can crawl right across me and I'll never know it. If he comes to Doug's side of the bed, he finds himself lovingly returned to his own room.

So, I woke to find that my head was tucked onto the smallest corner of pillow and my body was straddling the uneven space where our mattresses meet. (After several years of trying to find a mattress that worked well for both of us, we gave up. I have mine and Doug has his and the difference in height is not typically a problem. It also provides a hard line to reference when quibbling about who is encroaching on whose side of the bed!)

Anyway, three in a bed is tolerable, if not comfortable. But 5:45 a.m. is when Lila showed up on Doug's side of the bed with bad dream issues. He thought he was going to tell her to squeeze in behind me ('cause i'll never know the difference, right?) until he discovered that Eli was already there. Four in a bed was not going to work for anyone, unless we had Lila lay horizontally below our feet, like a puppy.

He ended up grabbing his pillows and taking Lila back into her own room, where he finished the night on Eli's bed. What began as everyone in their own bed, ended with Eli on my side of the bed, me in the middle (refusing to give up on my beloved pillow), Lila in her own bed, and Doug in Eli's bed.

I wonder what would happen if we locked our bedroom door tonight...

Lila

My children take every opportunity to be silly, but they cut me no slack when I try to do the same. I tend to get That Look, along with an impressive-sounding, "Mo-om!" Aren't they a bit young to find my humor dorky? I thought that didn't start until they made it into the double-digit ages, but Lila has been giving me her patented Not Amused look since infancy!

This morning, we had to scale an all-hands-on-deck search party for Lila's school shoes. I couldn't restrain the urge to remind her that we would always know where her shoes were if she put them straight into her shoe basket after taking them off (like she's supposed to).

Aside from that, however, I kept my sense of humor about things. When we had been searching for 10 minutes (seriously), I started talking out loud in my best Announcer Voice.

"Will they find Lila's school shoes? Will she make it to class on time? Will she have to wear NON. UNIFORM. SHOES?!?"

Lila said, very matter-of-factly, "Mom! You can stop talking that way. You are not a person from a to-be-continued TV show from the '70s."

Where does she come up with this stuff? And how is she so good at making me feel like I'm the kid and she's the grown-up?

Wisdom

The one who walks with the wise will become wise... -- Proverbs 13:20

Do you have a wise person (or people) to walk through life with? I know some wise people, but it can't be said that I'm walking with them. Now and then, I think about asking another woman to be my mentor, but that is such an intimidating thing to ask a person. If someone came up to me and asked the same thing, I'm not sure whether I would run from her or just laugh. I don't think of myself as foolish, but neither do I think of myself as wise.

Doug and I are doing our part to offer what wisdom we do have by starting a small group/Bible study. We have led groups (both individually and as a couple) and been members of groups for most of the past 15 (me) to 20 (doug) years. The relationships that can come from regular meetings with a group of people who are pursuing God together can last a lifetime. And, as I think about it, it's a good reminder that we all have some wisdom to share!

I think I should do three things:

1. Make it a priority to hang out with the people I already know who can speak wisdom into my life. (I'm looking at you, Ellen and Renee!)

2. Look and pray for an opportunity to develop a relationship with another woman who is several years ahead of me in her parenting and marriage.

3. Begin now to pray for the people who will be in our small group, that God will prepare our hearts to love Him and love one another with wisdom.

Service

Do not withhold good. -- Proverbs 3:27

I'm having sort of an ugly battle with my flesh this evening. I am aware of a person who is in need of help for a while. It's not the sort of help that can be given with a polite smile and a nod. It's the sort of help that takes work. It will encroach on my tidy schedule and set pattern of life, if only for a day or two. I typically love to help people. It gives me great satisfaction. So why the struggle this time? What is it about this request that I find myself fighting against?

Perhaps because it touches a part of my life that I feel I only have tenuous control over? It's not my job to be in control anyway! Because it requires using a "muscle" that I'm not particularly gifted in? Jesus never said that serving others would be comfortable! You know what else is not comfortable? Growth. This is looking to me like a huge opportunity for growth. I will offer my help to this person because it is what I know I should do.

The question is: Will I approach this opportunity with a fixed mindset or a growth mindset?

Eli

Sitting in a chair? You're doin' it wrong.

God is with me at all times. -- McGuffey Primer

For those who aren't aware, we took Eli to see an endocrinologist today. He's always been a tiny guy, hovering around the 3rd percentile for height (on the growth charts). His pediatrician has never been concerned about it, so I haven't been either.

When his first year of school began to get closer, I did start to worry a little bit. In Pre-K, no one is going to notice if you're the shortest kid. The older you get, the more people will notice. Now, if he's going to be a short dude, that's fine.

There are plenty of short dudes in our families. There are plenty of average and tall dudes, as well. I just wanted to make sure that this was a normal short stature and not the result of a medical problem. So, his doctor ordered a bone age test. It's quite simple; they take an x-ray of his wrist and send the film to a specialist, who determines his bone age. That test came back showing that his bone age was only 3.5 years (his physical age being 5 years).

That was enough of a discrepancy to warrant some blood work and a trip to the endocrinologist, to make sure he didn't have a hormone problem. The blood tests were all normal. It took forever to get in to see the specialist (apparently there's only one office of pediatric endocrinologists in the whole city), but today was the day. The visit could not have gone better, really. I was worried that we were going to be entering a battle with a pill-pushing know-it-all (not that I have issues with doctors, or anything...), but nothing could be further from the truth.

The doctor said that the pediatrician had already run all the appropriate blood work and, as we know, it was all normal. The most reassuring thing she said was that the delayed bone growth was actually a GOOD sign. That means that he will probably just enter puberty a little later than his peers and continue growing for a couple of years after they are all done. Is he going to hate that when he gets older? Probably, but it's still great news!

We are supposed to go back to the endocrinologist in 4 months and have another bone age test in June 2014, both to make sure that his growth isn't slipping farther behind. I'll keep you updated, but I really don't anticipate any problems. Hooray!

Cordelia

The naughty sleeping place here: Lila's pillow

A cat can eat a rat. -- Webster's Bluebacked Speller

. . . unless it is the cat in this photo. This cat is broken. She lays on her back for most of the day, pitifully reaching one paw out toward any person who walks by her. She would have you believe that she is horribly neglected, but she's not.

The only time she feels it is appropriate to get off her back is when it's time to eat or she has spotted what she perceives to be a naughty place to lay. One of her favorite right-side-up pastimes is laying on the back of the couch, behind my head, and smacking me in the side of the face with her tail.

If this cat ever saw a rat, she'd probably just ask it to scratch her belly.

Antidepressants

"Christ is all, and in all." -- Colossians 3:11

I've been pretty vague about this medication change that I'm going through and I suppose it's because I fear being judged. To heck with that! I much prefer transparency and freedom. The short version is that I'm trying to reduce my dose of antidepressant. The much longer version is as follows...

Depression has been always for me. Shortly before Doug and I got married, it started getting much worse. I won't go into all the details of the depression itself or the hundreds of hours of therapy that I've been through. That's not what this story is about. This is about the medication side of things. What you do need to know is that, about one month after the wedding, I got about as low as I could get. The only step further down would have been suicide.

One aspect of my problem was a big battle with obsessive thoughts. Some poisonous thought would find its way into my head and I could not stop thinking about it, no matter how hard I tried. Therapy was not helping with this, so I finally decided to try medication. I went to my first psychiatrist (he asked to be called Dr. J and passed out hugs as freely as drugs. i kid you not.) and got a prescription for a low dose of Paxil CR. 12.5 mg, if you're interested.

That worked wonders for me. I still remember the day that I was driving down the road and one of these awful thoughts popped into my head and I just decided not to think about it. And it WORKED. It was such a big deal that I almost had to pull over! And it continued to work well for me as I pursued therapy and began healing.

Fast forward a few years to the birth of my first child. I knew that post-partum depression was a possibility, but I had no idea what was coming.

It hit me hard and I found myself right back at rock bottom, almost overnight. That was when my psychiatrist increased my dose to 25 mg. The idea was that I'd take that dose until I stabilized and then go back down. It worked very well, again. In fact, once I was feeling better, I was feeling so much better that it seemed foolish to decrease my dose. So there I stayed.

Fast forward a few more years, to the birth of my second child.

I prayed that I would not have the same problems as before. I had worked SO hard and gone through SO much therapy that I figured I was safe. Wrong. Baby is born and I'm back at rock bottom. At this point, you can probably guess what came next. My psychiatrist increased my medication (to 50 mg) and it worked so well that we all agreed I should stay at that dose. And that is where I have been since Eli was born.

It has always been my goal to eventually wean off of the medication. Even though I recognize the essential role that it has played in my life, it still bothers me greatly that I am putting manufactured chemicals into my body every day. In recent months, I began to realize that I am in better mental, emotional, and physical shape than I have ever been in my life. It seemed (still does) like the perfect time to take that first step and reduce my medication.

I did not do this on my own, of course. I talked to my doctor about it and he was willing to work with me to achieve my goal. (I'd like to see him stop me, really.) I plan on taking this very slowly. I've been taking this medication for over 10 years and my brain will need lots of time to adjust. The agreed-upon first step was to go from 50 mg back down to 25 mg. I don't remember if the 50% reduction was my idea or his, but it was a bad one.

I've been doing research this week and it seems that the suggested method of weaning is to reduce your dose by 10% every 3-6 weeks. It also turns out that Paxil is a very difficult medication to get off of. As I am discovering firsthand. Some of the side effects have been expected and others have been a total surprise. In the two weeks since I decreased my dose, I've experienced: dizziness, vivid dreams, intense emotions, anger and frustration, depression, nausea and diarrhea, headaches, poor concentration, and short term memory problems.

Doesn't that sound like fun?!? [BIG eye roll]

I'm sticking with it though. Quitting does not sit well with me, so it would take a lot to convince me to go back to the higher dose of medication. For now, I've learned a very effective coping technique. It's called Jesus. I look directly at whatever crazy emotion I'm feeling and I tell it that I know what it really is. Then I turn my eyes away from it and onto Jesus and I trust that it will pass soon. He's never let me down before and I know He won't let me down now.

God doesn't ask us to do anything without also giving us the strength to do it. The problems begin when we begin trying to do his Will (or our own) by our own power. Not gonna work. Every single one of us is weak and broken. And praise God for that because I wouldn't want to have to do this on my own!

Ch-ch-ch-changes!

I watched a documentary today that was very convicting. It's called Captivated and it's about finding help for our media-captivated culture. I was squirming in my seat as I watched because it forced me to face my own media addictions: cable tv, Facebook, texting, media multi-tasking, computer and phone games. I looked at myself and I didn't like what I saw. I'm not the type of person who sees an unsatisfactory thing in themselves and just keeps going.

I am committing to the following changes...

1. I am going to talk to Doug about cancelling our AT&T U-verse service. Just thinking about not having access to all the shows that I typically watch makes me kind of panicky, which is a good indicator that I need to cut the cord. I think Doug will be up for this because he has thrown the idea out himself in the past (and received a rather hostile and defensive response from his loving wife). I have no intention of cutting us off entirely though.

We'll be keeping Netflix and I can always watch network shows on their websites.

2. Facebook and I are ending our affair. I will check it only once per day. The instant gratification I received from frequent Facebook updates is the reason I have let my blog go (despite multiple attempts to revive it). No more. I am going to try to give up Instagram as well. I will carry the camera with me or email photos from my phone to myself so that I can use them in my blog. The practice of putting my thoughts together into a coherent blog update in the evenings will benefit me far more than having my friends 'Like' every random thought that I have during the day.

[sigh] I used to be a pretty good writer. Now I have a hard time keeping my thoughts in one place long enough to type out a whole story. I don't like that.

3. I will not text, play phone games, or play computer games when there is another human in the room with me. Anything that needs to be said urgently can be said in a phone call. Games only serve to distract me from something far more important - relationships.

4. I will use only one type of media at a time. This might actually help me cut down on my tv viewing because I really don't like to sit and stare at the screen for very long. That is why I tend to have the tv on, my phone next to me, and my computer in my lap. Disgusting. If I can't sit still to watch the show, then it must not be that good. If my hands really need something to keep them busy, then maybe I'll take up crocheting again.

I'll have to ponder that one though. Not sure crocheting (or other crafty-type things) would be any better because I'd still be multi-tasking. And here's the plain truth: You cannot give your full attention to more than one thing at a time. Think about it.

Let's see, is that all?

Oh, I might also give up my subscription to the digital version of the newspaper and start getting a physical one. It's more expensive and less environmentally friendly, but it's better for my eyes and brain.

Please keep me accountable to these commitments. Ask me how it's going. If you see me updating Facebook during the day, then call me on it! Some of these changes will be gradual and they might take time. I'll try to avoid perfectionism and keep my eye on trajectory.

Feline Schizophrenia

I'm pretty sure that Cookie takes his orders from the ceiling fan in our bedroom.

It's beginning to concern me a little.

The cat has always been strange. I think it's from all those times that Eli hugged him a little too tight when he was a kitten.

But his relationship with the ceiling fan just started several months ago.

I'll find him sitting on our bed, staring up at it. Doesn't matter whether it is turned on or off. That seems to make no difference to him. Sometimes I'll be interacting with him on the bed - giving him scratches maybe - and he'll suddenly stop and look up, as though the fan just said something.

A couple of days ago, I was laid out on the bed, relaxing. Cookie came into the room and squeaked at me (he doesn't meow unless he's in the car). I patted the bed and called him to come up next to me. He jumped up on the bed, then crouched slightly and looked up at the fan, then jumped back onto the floor. It looked, for all the world, as though the fan had just told him to stay off the bed.

Creepy, right?

And it's only that one fan. We also have them in the playroom, kids' bedroom, and living room, but he pays no attention to those.

Can a cat be schizophrenic?

Summer fun, indeed.

I hate going to the swimming pool.

And it's not a passive hatred. It's an active, passionate, and enduring hatred.

I have never understood why people enjoy this pastime. And I'm pretty sure that I never will.

It's a full-scale assault on the senses that makes me want to curl up in a ball and weep.

It begins with the insult of having to put on an article of clothing that only looks attractive on 5% of the population. (Actually, the insult begins with the nightmare of shopping for said article of clothing, but that's another topic.)

And then the pool itself.

You immerse your body in a substance that is constantly in motion. Little waves and changing patterns of light as far as the eye can see (or at least several feet in each direction). Children are flinging themselves through the air with abandon. It's takes concentration to keep track of which ones belong to you. The sun is beating down, making it impossible to raise your eyes above head-level. The reflection of the sun on those myriad waves is blinding, making it impossible not to raise your eyes above head-level. All around you is confusion and chaos. Bodies and waves and light.

The sounds that fill the air are just more chaos. Squeals. Laughter. Talking. Yelling. A hundred little voices crying out, "Mom! Watch me!" Behind all this is the constant sound of water lapping and splashing, and the occasional shrill warble of the lifeguard's whistle.

The air is also filled with the smell of chlorine and a dozen different brands of sunscreen.

It's not enough that this substance you stand in is touching all of your body at once. It is also pushing and pulling against you, never ceasing. The uninhibited activity of the children all around you sends splashes of chemical-filled water through the air. From every direction, like sprays of shrapnel in the face and the back of the head. The sun continues to beat down, until you feel like an insect under a magnifying glass. Your children want to jump to you, hang from you, engage you in their world, in their fun.

When finally you are allowed to leave the water, you are faced with the sensation of your swimsuit - that hated garment - clinging to you, wet and cold. Your sunglasses are covered in spots of dried pool water. Your eyeballs, despite the sunglasses, feel as though they have sunburn.

At home, you run up the stairs and peel off the layers of wet material, hating the way the fabric clings and drags across your skin.

You face a choice: put your body, which so desperately wants to be dry, into a warm shower; or get dressed, knowing you'll smell of chlorine and sunscreen for the rest of the day.

And the worst part? Knowing that you'll have to do it all over again next week. And the week after. And the week after. . . .

Help me out, Moms.

I'm confused about which of my children is normal.

Lila remembers every word that has ever been spoken within hearing distance. Seriously. She never forgets anything. And she's always been that way.

Long before she could read, we'd check books out from the library. One of us would read the book to her one time. The next time we read it, sometimes days later, we might get sloppy and skip a word. She would correct us because she had the book memorized - after one reading!

Since she was our first child, I assumed that all children were this way.

Then we had Eli. He is pretty much the opposite of his sister. He is sweet and thoughtful and loving... but sometimes I wonder if I speak at a frequency that he can't hear.

I can look the boy in the face, and tell him something simple. For example, "We're going to pick Lila up from school in five minutes."

Five minutes later, I'll say, "Okay, time to pick Lila up. Please get your shoes on!"

Eli will say, "Okay!" He'll put his shoes on and get in the car.

Halfway to school, he'll say, "Where are we going?"

So, which one of these fruitcakes should I be worrying about?

Random Photos from Eli's Party

Chocolate coated Eli - after helping to make the cake.

 

Hershey's Chocolate Bars wrapped in birthday labels.

 

Water bottles wrapped in birthday labels.

 

Pre-party insanity, in full swing.

 

This kid is the most gratifying person to give gifts too because everything he gets is just the coolest!

 

Blowing out the candles. The kids called that big break in the cake an Earthquake. We'll go with that!

Eli's Room Makeover

Doug and I decided to make over Eli's side of the bedroom for his birthday. His birthday party was on Saturday and we asked the grandparents to take the kids home with them afterward. We did all the painting and decorating while they were gone, so it was a big surprise for Eli when they got home!

Red is his very favorite color, so that was the obvious choice for painting the walls. When I asked him what his favorite shade of red was he said Iron Man Red and Dr. Pepper Can Red, which are basically the same.

(I asked a couple of different times to make sure I got a consistent answer.) I think the color looks a bit brighter in these photos than it does in person. It's a great color though. I love it!

The Little Big Planet wall hanging is from Eli's birthday party. I ordered it, thinking it was going to be a paper poster, but it turned out to be a high-quality cloth thing. So onto the wall it went!

On to the bed. Eli is the only person in the house who thinks it is too cold at night and that's why he kept showing up in our room during the wee hours of morning. The rest of us sleep under as little cover as possible, and the kids didn't even have comforters - just light blankets. So, as another part of the makeover, we got him a nice, fluffy comforter (with matching sheets).

He liked it so much that he face-planted onto it and yelled, "I LOVE YOU!!!"

It is unclear whether he was talking to us or the bed.

The picture you see hanging on the wall is a particularly cool painting that Eli did several months ago. It kind of looks like a Joan Miro. And it looks great with the wall color and bedding!

Of course, we couldn't forget his obsession with Monster Jam! The plush monster truck you see on his bed (in the photo above) is one of his favorites. It is known around our house as Puff Grinder. (Grinder being the name of the truck, Puff being... well, it's a puffy truck.)

I got a good deal on a 10-pack of Monster Jam pennants for his wall. I hung the first two and Eli put the rest of them up.

Well, he held them against the wall and I put the tacks in. But the arrangement is his, nonetheless.

There was a slight confusion over what gloss-level was already on the walls, so now Lila's side is flat finish and Eli's is satin. Lila is jealous because Eli's side is shiny.

I prefer a flat or eggshell finish myself, but I figure the boogers will wipe off the satin finish more easily.

(You think I'm kidding, don't you...)

Why does everyone in our house feel like doing this?

Let me tell you.

April 17th - Family Birthday
April 18th - Family Birthday
April 26th - Family Birthday (deceased)
April 27th - Family Birthday AND My Birthday
April 28th - Family Birthday
May 9th - Family Birthday
May 11th - Family Birthday
May 12th - Mother's Day
May 13th - Eli's Birthday
May 21st - Doug's Birthday

Figure in two birthday parties and countless end-of-school projects and activities...

Someone wake me when summer gets here.

Get with the program!

Well, we've got the kids taking care of their responsibilities every day, without complaint. Now if we could only get Eli to eat!

Dessert is about to be added to the list of privileges that he has to earn. And the way he will earn it is by eating something (healthy) at dinner.

Tonight was a classic example of how things typically go. His dinner plate contained one piece of arugula, roughly three noodles and a piece of broccoli (with sauce), one grape tomato, one slice of apple, and about 8 peanuts.

He ate none of it. Not one bite. He prayed with us, sucked down his small cup of apple juice, and left the table.

I quit making special dishes or allowing junk food on dinner plates because I want all of us to eat the same healthy meal. We thought that Eli would surely come around and start eating after a few nights of going to bed without dinner.

Nope! It's been going on this way for at least a year. It's not uncommon for Eli to have a snack (maybe a cereal bar) around 3 p.m. and then not eat again until breakfast next morning. [sigh]

If taking away his dessert privilege doesn't work, then I don't know what we're going to do. You can't make a child eat. You can give all the consequences in the world, but that is one great area of control that a child always has.

As I sit here and think this through, I'm realizing that it could get real ugly around here before Eli finally starts eating good food. I can't just wait around for him to grow up and expand his diet. He needs good nutrition now.

I feel like I'm taking Crazy Pills!

Eli took care of his responsibilities by 3:30 today, because he wanted his (video) game time. We had to leave to pick Lila up from school at 3:40.

Eli: "Can I have my game time now?"
Me: [thinking] "Well... you can play for 10 minutes, but then we'll need to go pick Lila up from school. You can play for 20 more minutes when we get back home."
Eli: "Okay!"
Me: "If you argue with me or throw a fit when I say it's time to turn the game off, then you won't get to finish playing when we get home."
Eli: "Okay!"

I get him started on the game.

7 minutes later...

Me: "Just a few more minutes before we need to leave..."
Eli: "Okay!"

3 minutes later...

Me: "Okay, buddy! It's time to turn the game off."
Eli: [screeching like a ringwraith] "Noooooooo!!!!!!!!!!! Aaaaaarrrrrrggggghhhhh!!!!!!!!!!"

I finally had to take the controller away and turn the game off myself.

Eli: "Do I still get the rest of my game time?"

Do these people listen to me at all?!?

By my 36th Birthday...

...I'd like to have:

1. Hair that is all one color. Specifically, my natural color. (The roots are currently 3 inches long.)
2. A well-established Bible study/small group meeting in my home.
3. Visibly larger arm muscles.
4. A good handle on how to homeschool two children (in two different grades) at once.
5. The same amount of wrinkles that I currently have - no more!
6. A regular date-night with my husband, every two weeks.
7. A brand of deodorant that I actually like. One that works well, but doesn't leave me afraid that I'm poisoning myself.
8. A consistent and effective method for keeping our laundry under control. (Baby steps.)
9. A place to go for a gluten-free gyro.
10. At least one new friend, whom I see on a regular basis.



Behold the White Paw of Cuteness!

Wow!

Okay, so... I'm a little shocked by how well this Responsibilities Before Privileges concept is working for us. It was hard for the first 1.5 weeks, especially for Eli. I wrote a whole blog post about it! Lila caught on pretty quickly and hasn't given us any trouble since those first few days of boundary-testing.

Well, they've both been blowing me away for the past week! On school days, Lila only has one additional chore - vacuuming under the dining room table. She comes in and does it right away, without even being asked! And it's made a big difference on homeschool days too. She is expected to do two hours of school work in the morning and two hours in the afternoon. She decided pretty quickly that she'd rather earn her privileges than exert her control over school.

Eli has slowly transitioned from a total strike against all responsibilities to asking to do them! Seriously! He decided he wanted his game time today and I reminded him that the way to earn that privilege was by doing all morning and afternoon responsibilities. He took care of his morning business and watched morning video. After rest time, he asked to go ahead and do all of them so that he could play his game! Instead of waiting until the last minute, he was totally done by 1:45.

I don't expect to ever have this kind of parenting success again, so I'm kind of rolling around in it right now! Praise God for my discontent, inspiration, and calm follow-through!

And speaking of game tame, Lila uttered the following phrase while playing Little Big Planet this afternoon: "Okay, move along, feces!"

35 Reasons I'm Glad to be 35

1. I am through with being pregnant and giving birth.
2. 5 is my favorite number and 7 is the number used in the Bible to represent perfection.
7 x 5 = 35
3. I no longer believe that I'm defined by what other people think of me.
4. I find new ways to crack myself up every day.
5. My "toolbox" for dealing with bouts of depression is full to overflowing.
6. I usually like who I am.
7. I can say that I've been married for a decade.
8. I can say that I've been a child of God for 16 years.
9. I've learned that having courage does not mean that you aren't afraid.
10. I finally believe that my butt is appealing and not just big.
11. I have started to develop wing flaps under my arms, meaning that soon I will not need air bags on the passenger side of my vehicle.
12. I am finally aware of my gluten intolerance, meaning that I no longer have to suffer from fatigue and pain.
13. I can now be wildly and proudly out-of-touch when talking to teenagers.
14. I have two of the most amazing kids on the planet.
15. I no longer have to change those amazing children's diapers.
16. I have had the time to figure out what I believe about a lot of things.
17. I'm (almost) comfortable with admitting that I don't know what to believe about some things.
18. I'm only halfway through this list.
19. I have almost recovered from junior high.
20. I'm one year closer to heaven.
21. DVR exists and I have one.
22. I finally discovered that I love fresh cherries.
23. I have found great relief from my allergies... through nutrition!
24. I finally own a guinea pig.
25. I have uncovered my crafty side.
26. I am learning, at long last, what it means to stay connected to God throughout the day.
27. When I am entering my age and weight info into the treadmill, I can push the down button one less time.
28. I have lived in Austin long enough to complete my metamorphosis into an Austin Hippie.
29. I can almost say that I've lived in Austin for half my life.
30. I've discovered that I love kale (when cooked correctly).
31. No one cards me anymore.
32. I almost have enough freckles on my arms to give the impression of a tan.
33. I'm starting to get freckles on my legs too, so I can look forward to a faux tan on them in a few years.
34. I get to constantly exasperate my husband with my complete and illogical inability to remember how to "properly" set a table.
35. I get to lose at Jenga to a child 1/7 my age.

Immovable Eli

Eli's determination to avoid his responsibilities is remarkable!

I instituted the Expectation Chart last week and it worked fabulously for Lila. She knows what is expected of her and she learned very quickly that I was not kidding about the boundaries. She takes care of her responsibilities without a single complaint now.

Eli, on the other hand... I have been shocked (and slightly bewildered) by his calm refusal to conform. I don't ask much of these guys, as far as chores are concerned. Just enough to give them the idea that being part of a family comes with responsibilities. But Eli would rather miss out on videos and game time than do his chores. I'm glad that he's not so hooked on screen time that he just has to have it, but I really thought I had more leverage!

On Friday, we upped the ante. I bought a locking door knob for the playroom and told Eli that all those toys are also a privilege that has to be earned. Doug installed the new door knob on Saturday and I've noticed two interesting things.

1. Eli still doesn't care. His favorite toys are locked in that room and he just calmly declines the invitation to earn access to them. What the what?!?

2. The door to the play room has been locked for most of the past three days and no one has asked us to unlock it. Even after Lila has finished her responsibilities and earned her privileges, she hasn't asked for access to the play room.

This is proving something that I have believed for a long time: They would be just as content -- if not MORE content -- without all those blasted toys! For three days, they have relied on their imaginations and the few things of interest that are still out and about. And for three days, no one has complained of being bored!

It definitely helps that the weather has been so gorgeous here lately. But even when the kids are inside, they are content.

Now, if I had the nerve to suggest that we get rid of any of those locked-away toys... there would be weeping and gnashing of teeth! Clothes would be torn! Dust would be put on heads!

But I digress.

Back to the topic of Eli. He did give me a small grain of hope this afternoon. All afternoon, the only thing he'd agreed to do was tidy up the living room a bit (i pointed out a whopping five items that i wanted him to put away). Lila came home from school, promptly did her job (vacuum under the dining room table), and asked to watch afternoon video.

When asked if he was going to finish up his jobs so that he could watch with her, Eli's first response was a No. However, when I asked him to go upstairs to his bedroom (since the playroom was also off-limits), I sensed some hesitation. I sweetened the deal slightly by reminding him that he could watch the episode of Rescue Bots that he'd been wanting to see... and he decided to go for it!

We did half a reading lesson (~15 mins) and he vacuumed under the kitchen table. Lila was rather pissed that he got to choose the video, since she usually gets to choose in the afternoon, but I was just excited that he finally decided to participate!

He may go right back on strike tomorrow, but at least he has proven to me and to himself that he can do what is expected of him and there are benefits to doing so!

Intervention

[sigh]

My husband has a problem.

Not everyone knows about it and it's not something I like to talk about, but... the time has come for me to seek support.

Doug is addicted to Snoopy.

There. I said it.

As I type this, I am sitting on the couch with one small stuffed Snoopy and a couple of his siblings (Marbles and Belle, if you're curious). There are at least a few in every room, despite 10 years worth of efforts to stop the insanity. In the time that we have been married, I've only successfully convinced Doug to get rid of a few items. We still have dozens of stuffed animals, blankets, figurines, shirts, and various holiday decorations. But the Bane of my Existence is Handy.

Handy is a small, hand-sized, Snoopy that Doug has had for many years. Handy has his own vacation clothes, Halloween costume, and Christmas sweater. This dog accompanies Doug on trips, both business and pleasure. He has had his photo taken at Stonehenge. I haven't been to Stonehenge, but this stupid little dog has. He even made his way into our wedding photos. Don't get me started on that one.

Well, it's time for me to draw the line. On Saturday, Doug left the house to run errands. When he returned home, I could tell by the look on his face that something was up. And then I saw this...

You can't tell from this photo, but Doug's wearing a Snoopy shirt.

He bought underpants for Handy. Underpants!

I tried to seek help from Doug's brother, Keith. Unfortunately, he wasn't even willing to discuss the issue. Keith says he's been trying to talk to Doug about his problem for years and there's nothing more he can do.

Doug's parents won't be much help because his mother, Irene, is even further down this rabbit hole than he is. For every one Snoopy item in our house, there are two in hers.

And so, friends, I turn to you for support.

What's a girl to do when her husband buys underpants for his stuffed dog?!?

You'll thank me later.

Gypsy says, "Don't argue with your mother!"

I'd like to say that the Expectation Chart has revolutionized our world overnight, but that would be a lie. In fact, I've been experiencing some pretty serious backlash from it. And I'm discovering how very hard it is for me to avoid nagging and "reminders".

I think it's reasonable to remind the children what's expected of them at the beginning of the day and after rest time. Maybe that's even too much (the kids would definitely say so), but I see it as covering my own butt.

If I speak my expectations out loud, then no one can claim ignorance later. Well, they can try, but I'll know they're full of hot air. What seems to be going on right now is some hard-core boundary-testing. "If I refuse to get dressed and only do half my school work for the morning, will she really not let me watch Morning Video?" Here's your answer, Dear One: In this house, you only get privileges if you take care of your responsibilities.

I know it hasn't always been that way, but we're making a change for your good. I will defeat this beast we call Entitlement. The whole friggin' country is suffering from it, but I'm not going to sit idly by and wonder why. I'm going to fight back! If you want something, then work for it! We live an absurdly cushy life as it is. I am quite confident that my expectations for you are not too high. If anything, they are still too low.

To quote generations of mothers across the globe, "You'll thank me later."

Look Out Kids...

'cause Mom just got organized!

This may look like a hastily created -- and oddly proportioned -- chore chart... but it's not!

It's an "expertly crafted" Expectation Chart!

And, more importantly, it is the freedom (for me) not to get angry when responsibilities are not taken care of.

The kids know what is expected of them, and when. They know what they stand to gain by meeting expectations. They know what will happen if they don't.

I will neither nag nor entertain beggars.

My children, your choices are your own and many a valuable lesson lies ahead of you.

Cute Kitty of the Year

Doug might think this is his chair, but it really belongs to Cookie.

"I don't care that you have a camera. Go away."

He sleeps this way all the time.

Curled toes? Are you kidding me?!?

 

Calm down, Angela. It's just a vase.

Look! I painted a vase and I actually like it! That never happens.

Roughly once per year, some combination of family members and I will go to one of those paint-your-own-pottery places. I spend lots of time picking just the right piece and just the right colors and desperately trying to squeeze some drop of inspiration out of my brain. I labor over the paint job for as long as I can before someone insists that I stop. I lovingly hand the piece over to the employees, hoping they'll tell me how wonderful it looks. Ignoring their lack of enthusiasm, I anxiously wait the week that it takes to be ready, then I go to pick it up. I get the thing in my hands... and I hate it.

This time, I took the opposite approach. I looked over all the pottery and picked the most practical thing - a vase. I picked a few of my favorite colors, with no idea what I would do with them. I did look through an idea book, but I took vague inspiration from a couple of items and then put the book back. I sat down at the table and started painting. When I finished, I said, "Hey! Look what that turned into!" I handed it off to be glazed and fired, hoping only that it would not turn out to be a total waste of money. I gave it only a passing thought after I left and waited nearly two weeks to go back and pick it up.

Imagine my shock when I asked the girl at the front desk for our pieces (Eli painted a T-Rex) and she said something along the lines of, "Oh, that one's yours? I love it! It turned out so great!" And then I got it in my hands and I actually agreed with her! Now I have a vase that I will be proud to display on my dining room table. Maybe I'll get some more of those beautiful daffodils to put in it...

Moral of the story: If you expect your art to look like crap, then you'll be pleasantly surprised if it doesn't.

A Teenager and A Ringwraith

I love this photo. It's Lila, dressed as Cindy Lou Who, trying to force her brother to take a picture with her. He was clearly not interested, but she wasn't taking "no" for an answer. This was the best shot I got. By the third photo, they were both on the ground and she had him in a headlock! To make things even better, they were in the middle of Lila's classroom. At least they were doing it all with smiles on their faces.

These guys have been seriously... refining me this week.

Lila's been copping a teenager-level attitude with me. Sometimes I am able to maintain my composure and politely ask her to use a more respectful tone (and word choice) with me. At other times, I cop an attitude right back. Obviously, I strive for the former response. The latter usually does not end well. For example:

Me: "Okay guys, it's bath time!"
Lila: [hands on hips] "I am not going to take a bath!"
Me: "Don't tell me what you are NOT going to do!"
[Begin downward spiral.]

When Eli was a toddler, he used to make this noise (particularly in the car) that sounded exactly like the shriek of a Ring Wraith. I must say, the sound became much more tolerable after we made that connection and I would occasionally even begin to giggle when he did it. But I digress...

The point is that he has rediscovered that sound and begun using it again... every time we tell him something he doesn't want to hear. For example:

Eli: "What can I have to eat?"
Me: "Well, you've already had a snack and it's not lunchtime yet, so you can have fruit, nuts, or--"
Eli: [interrupting] "AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE!!!!!!!!!!!!!"
[Begin brain explosion.]

I really really really hope that this week goes more smoothly. For everyone's sake.

About Lila

For those who are curious, here is the Core Teacher Commentary from Lila's report card for this term:

Lila is doing such a nice job in 1st grade. She is a wonderful reader, consistently performs well on spelling assessments, and is a kind friend to her classmates. As you know, handwriting is a struggle for Lila. Let's just keep encouraging her! I would also like for Lila to focus on math facts this last trimester, especially addition. We would like for her to be able to solve 35 problems in 2 minutes by the end of the year and she is not there yet. Consistency is the key. Keep up the hard work!

Today was Dr. Seuss day in 1st grade. All the students were to choose a character from a Dr. Seuss book, memorize 4-6 lines from that character, dress like the character, then recite the lines in front of the class. Lila (with some encouragement from me) chose to be Cindy Lou Who from How the Grinch Stole Christmas (the book and/or old cartoon - NOT that obnoxious movie).

She did a fantastic job and she made the cutest stinking Cindy Lou Who you've ever seen! I will post photos as soon as I have uploaded them to the computer. The photo you see here is the result of sleeping in sponge rollers overnight. Lila found them in a drawer last week and requested that we use them to give her curly hair for Easter. The classy shirt she's wearing with those adorable curls is a novelty tee from Panama City Beach, FL.

Easter Recap

We were finally starting to finish off some of the candy from Valentine's Day... and Easter happened. We kept the candy in our eggs to a minimum (did half real eggs and half candy-stuffed ones), but there's still the candy they got from Grammie and what was left in the pantry. I wonder if I could convince the kids that a tornado blew through Austin while they were sleeping and ONLY carried off the candy from our pantry...

Aside from the excess of crack candy, we had a lovely Easter weekend! Friday and Monday were both school holidays, so it was also a long weekend. We used Friday, plus about one hour on Monday, to catch up on our schoolwork. Yay! [happy dances] [pretending to forget that we did not make it through all our work today] [humming to self and rocking from side to side]

Saturday was egg dyeing day and attending an Easter service. Austin Ridge had two services on Saturday evening and two on Sunday morning. Since Doug and I were both serving at church on Sunday morning, we attended on Saturday evening. After church, we had a lovely dinner at The Grove. Sunday morning was church again - Doug ran sound for the 3rd/4th/5th graders and I worked in Glory Kids - then home for lunch and Easter egg hunting.

We had dinner at Joe and Irene's in the evening, then came home and crashed! Doug was back at work on Monday, but the kids and I spent the whole day running errands and taking care of various chores. Today, it was back to life as normal. And, as in years past, the kids have re-hidden and re-found the eggs multiple times since the initial hunt. I have requested, several times, that the candy stay in the kitchen when the eggs get hidden, but Eli keeps "forgetting" that detail.