Step in the Right Direction

We bought a couch for the den today - taupe (just like I wanted), leather (just like I wanted), and attached seat cushions (just like I wanted) for a whopping $100.

Long story, but suffice it to say we were in the right place at the right time. Don's going to pick it up on Saturday. Tomorrow, we're getting rid of the nasty loveseat and broken leather recliner that take up our den space now. I'm participating in a yard sale that a friend is having, so I have the perfect chance to get rid of these junk pieces, along with loads of other junk.

We're well on our way to a new look for our house. My first priority, once all three children are back in school in September, is to bring about my "plan" for the house.

Don took me to a car dealership today to look at a Nissan that he's interested in buying. It wasn't available to test drive, so we have to go back on Saturday. If we can get a new car for him, we'll be able to begin putting away money for my "plan".

I can't wait. There's nothing like sitting back and watching the Lord work right in front of your very eyes.

Produce

I got my garden planted early this year. Last year, Don made a box garden for me. It was a huge amount of work, but this year, I needed only to clean out the stalks from last year, add a bag or two of good Moisture Control soil, mix in a little fertilizer, and I was ready to plant. I think I got my basil and tomatoes planted before April 1. Bell peppers followed shortly afterwards.

My tomatoes have gotten out of control already. The two plants in the front of the box were beginning to grow over the edge of the box into my driveway. On Sunday, the kids and I looked over the mess of plants and green tomatoes. We picked all the ripe ones and I realized I needed desperately to stake the plants up.

Once I had fed the kids (western omelettes, made with a bell pepper from my garden), I took off outside to tie the plants to the stakes Don put up for me a week before. In the process, which took quite some time because the plants were so big and heavy with fruit, I found two large bunches of cherry tomatoes that were ripe but I hadn't been able to see before they were tied up. I was thrilled. I also got my first harvest of basil.

Last night, I asked Deanna to get the bag of cherry tomatoes out of the fridge so I could have some of my home-grown produce in my dinner salad. They were wonderful, but I couldn't help bemoaning that none of my children eat tomatoes, like their father.

Me: "These are so good. Don't you children want any?"

No response.

Me, again: "It just makes me sick that none of you are crazy about tomatoes like me."

Deanna: "I can't stand them, Mama. You're barking up the wrong tree here."

Dane: "I'm crazy, Mama. I'm crazy."

Snickers all around.

Deanna: "Dane, that's not news. We've known for quite sometime now that you're crazy."

Finally, Dane got it. It's a shame my brilliant little boy has such a slow wit. Even Daelyn thought Dane's remark was hilarious.

Poor Dane. He can't even appreciate my tomatoes without criticizm.

T-ball 'tainment

Daelyn started t-ball on Thursday night. If you've never seen little kids playing baseball, you ought to stop by the Y some weeknight and observe. It's the cutest thing you could ever want to see.

There were as many dads on the field as kids. Every child had a mother or father standing next to them, coaching them through every move, usually unsuccessfully. Children hit the ball, then ran to second base. Others skipped bases altogether and headed for home plate. Tired children sat down in the outfield. One little girl bent down and watched the ball roll between her legs with no attempt to stop it. They're so small and so darling.

In the middle of practice Thursday night, one little boy burst into tears in the outfield. The coach talked to him, then the mama went to him. They left the field and never returned. I talked to the coach the next afternoon and he said the boy was afraid that someone might hit him with a bat. But he was in the outfield at the time of the tears, nowhere near a bat or a batter.

Later, Daelyn began to cry while in the outfield. The coach talked to him (I was trying to stay out of it and let the coach handle it), then looked at me and shrugged. I took off from the bench to see what was up with my little guy.

"I think I'm getting over-heated, Mom," he said, once I got him calmed down.

"Come over to the bench and have a nice, cold drink, son," I said, even though they had just had a drink break five minutes before. "Then maybe you'll want to go back out and play for a little while."

"I don't think so. I want to go home."

Daelyn had a good excuse. On the way home in the van, he threw up. He really was feeling poorly.

Before we left the field, I asked the coach how long the games run. Dane's baseball games run one hour or four innings.

"Do the little guys play for a full hour?" I asked.

"We play for as long as we can keep them on the field," the coach responded. I raised an eyebrow and looked questioningly at him.

"You can see, we start losing kids," the coach continued. "They drop like flies. And once they discover there are snacks here, it's very difficult to get them to play. So we keep the game going as long as we can. But, at the longest, that's 45 minutes from start to finish."

45 minutes worth of free entertainment. Fun for all.

No Z's

I started the Zithromicin my doctor gave me last Thursday. It seemed to take forever to kick in, but I felt better on Sunday. We had our church picnic and I was able to attend all day. I was done in by the evening, but that was mostly because of my ankle.

Round about Wednesday, I started feeling poorly again. By yesterday, I was coughing up yellow globs again, a sure sign of bronchitis. My nose is running constantly, I'm congested, coughing non-stop, and feel like I must have tread marks down my body from the truck that hit me.

I'm trying now to get a different antibiotic from my doctor so I can get some much-needed sleep. I've had this same trouble before with Z-Paks, but this time I'm too sick to play around with antibiotics that don't do the trick. Operating on no sleep is for the birds.

I'm chaperoning my son's field trip today - myself and a very pregnant mom. The teacher called last night and said her father is being discharged after two weeks in the hospital at 10:00 a.m. this morning and asked if I could handle being in charge of the field trip.

Why not? Coughing, sneezing, blowing my nose, and having runny eyes hasn't stopped me from doing anything yet.

I just have to remember in the future that Z-paks result in NO sleep for me.

No Z's. Period.

Car Jumper

Donovan jumped out of the front van window yesterday on the way home from taking the kids to school. I've been afraid he might fall out, so I keep him on his leash, hanging onto one end of it, while he sticks his head out the window.

One moment he was there, the next he was gone. I slammed on the brakes, scared to death I would run over him. I'm certain I drug him at least a little way.

I ran around to the other side of the van and he was up and running in circles. I'm pretty certain he knew he was in trouble, because he tried real hard to kiss up to me. I put him back in the van, rolled up the window, and gave him a stern talking-to. Daelyn was really concerned about his puppy, but he seemed fine.

When we got home, I noticed blood all over the front seat and some on the back seat where Donovan had jumped in time to get out of the van when we got home. When we got him inside, I checked him over good. He broke off a claw all the way down at the foot and had four bad scrapes where all the fur had been rubbed off and he was bleeding, but he seemed alright otherwise.

Just to be on the safe side, I took him to the Vet this morning. He laughed and said, "I'd love to tell you he's learned his lesson, but the truth is, he'd probably do it again." I don't know. He's pretty smart, but I'm certainly not going to give him a chance.

He's on antibiotics to protect him from an infection and the Vet gave him some medicine for his itching, but he's fine. It was a close call. He could easily have broken a body part or his neck or been run over by the van before I could stop.

I've thought it was going to be wonderful having a pet that never seemed to grow up. The children have grown up so fast, I thought it would be nice to have a little creature who always wanted to sit in my lap and love on Mommy.

I'm rethinking this "baby forever" thing.

Confuse the Boy

Daelyn: "Why doesn't Mrs. Routhier teach Sissy anymore?"

Me: "Because Mrs. Routhier teaches third grade."

Daelyn: "What grade is Sissy in?"

Me: "Fourth grade."

Daelyn: "Next year, will Mrs. Routhier teach her again?"

Me: "No, Daelyn, Mrs. Routhier already taught Sissy. Next year, she'll have a new teacher."

Daelyn: "Why is it called Fourth grade?"

Me: "Fourth for Four. What number does Third stand for?"

Daelyn: "I dunno."

Me: "Well, think, son. If Fourth grade is Grade Four, then Third grade is Grade what?"

D: "Four? No, two."

M: "Son, Third grade is Grade Three."

D, dully: "Oh."

M: "What comes after Fourth Grade?"

D, triumphantly: "Fifth!!"

M: "No! SUMMER!"

Welsh Mythology

Daelyn was acting up this morning at the breakfast table.

"Go to your room, son," I said, sternly. He didn't move.

"Go to your room - now!" (more menacingly)

Finally, he got up from the table and began to walk slowly out of the kitchen.

"GO!" I spoke rather loudly.

Suddenly, Daelyn turned around, squinted his eyes at me, and said,

"You're NOT MY MOTHER!" He turned his back and stomped out of the room.

"I wonder who he thinks his mother is?" Deanna asked, innocently.

No one. He was a test tube baby. Or perhaps he sprung fully grown out of his father's head. In armor. With a spear.

No wonder labor was so hard.

Date Night

Don and I went on a date last night. We seem to manage these about twice a year, if we're lucky. Occasionally, we can eek out a third date, if we plan in advance.

We had our babysitter arrive at 4:45, so we could get an early start. We don't like to stay out late. We both turn into pumpkins by 11:00 and prefer to be home in jammies by then. We went to a rib place we'd never visited before (it was GREAT!), then went to a sports store to find a bathing suit for Deanna (I wanted to try a Speedo for her), then hit a movie. I had printed out the synopses, titles and ratings of 6-8 movies for Don to look over and he chose one of them, saying it was the only one on the list that looked decent to him. (Not too sure what "decent" means - apparently not what it means to me.)

The movie was terrible.There was, essentially, no ACTING in it, just people running around screaming and being mutilated (it said nothing about that in the synopsis). It was about a virus that attacks England and, 28 weeks after all the infected have died, it shows back up again. It was more like a "Night of the Living Dead" than a "Deadly Virus" movie. Gross, boring, bloody, no dialogue to speak of . . . I suggested, when I had to cover my eyes for the third time to keep from seeing people being decapitated by the blade of a helicopter, that a Chick Flick would have been way better. Don almost agreed. Shrek the Third or Spiderman 3 would have been a huge improvement over our choice.

This always seems to happen to us. If we rent movies to watch at home, we hit homeruns every time. But if we go to a theatre, we bomb. Our criteria for choosing movies seems to be the problem. We've sat through some real squirrels. In thinking about it, it seems to be the times Don chose the movies. When we bring ones home from the video store, I've always chosen them. I always let Don choose the theatre movies.

Next date, if I remember after 6 - 8 months, I'll let Don pick the restaurant and I'll pick the movie. I think I could have done better, but I'm not certain. I might have chosen just as bad a stinker, but we might give it a try, anyway. If I remember.

At least we found a suit for Deanna. We seem to do our best shopping when out on dates. Hmh! Maybe we should scrap the movies and spend our dates SHOPPING!!

Don would never be able to show his face around the guys again.

Prayer Request

This cold has turned into a sinus infection and, now, bronchitis. My breathing has worsened significantly and I'm coughing so frequently that my throat really hurts. I've lost my voice and coughed so much during naptime that I woke Daelyn.

My doctor gave me a prescription for Zithromax on Tuesday to fill if I needed it. I got it filled and started the antibiotics yesterday. I took my second dose today, but Zithromax doesn't always work well for me, and it's Friday. If it doesn't kick in and I have to wait for something different until Monday, I'll be in rough shape.

I need a little relief from the coughing. Last night, I had a Kahlua and Cream (my cure from last year's bronchitis attack) and it helped get me through the night, but I can't nurse liquor all day to help me with the coughing. And my throat hurts so bad!

Please pray for healing - quick healing - and for the Z-Pak to kick in. I'll update you next week.

Thanks.

Patti

Furniture Shopping

I'm looking for new furniture - for the master bedroom, the living room, the den, the dining room, Deanna's room . . . essentially, I want to refurnish the entire house. But Don and I refuse to go into debt, so we have to buy s-l-o-w-l-y, s--l--o--w--l--y, s---l---o---w---l---y - you get the picture.

For two years now, I've been saving money out of my allowance every month and putting it away to buy furniture. (Yes, I get an allowance. But, unlike with the kids, Don's very reasonable about raising it when I ask. It's my "mad money", to go out to lunch with friends, take the kids to Pizza Hut, etc. Last month, some of it went for the Choir Director's end-of-year gift, gifts for this person and that person, anything where I needed ready cash on-hand - that's what my allowance is for. And, by the way, getting an "allowance" was my idea, not my husband's. He gets an allowance each month, too. That way we have a limit on loose spending and untrackable cash expenses so our budget doesn't get out of hand. Several of my friends have taken the idea to their husbands and now get an allowance, too. One of my close friends was talking with me about her allowance several months ago and mentioned an amount which was a good bit higher than mine, along with some reference to "our" allowance. When I told her that her allowance was much higher, she cracked up. "I asked my husband for that much each month because I told him that's how much YOU got. I guess I got the amount wrong. I thought that's what you had told me." We giggled together, struck by how funny the situation was - she was pleading her case, using me as an example. Now I had to go back to Don and ask for a raise, using HER as an example. The main thing is, we are both happy with our amounts.)

Anyway, getting back to my main thought - I've been taking money out of my allowance. But I USE my allowance, so some months no money goes into savings, others, it's only $5 or so. At this rate, furniture buying will come sometime over the next 50 years.

When we got home from England, in frustration with my meager savings, I asked Don if we could start putting away some REAL money every month, at least once he bought a new car for him. His car has over 250,000 miles and has been puttering along on its last leg for 2 years now. Don loves his car, I'm scared of it. It's a 2-door, so everyone has to crawl over top of each other to get in. It's small, low to the ground, the windows don't work anymore, and the wrap around seatbelts no longer wrap. It's held together with glue and duct tape, but it just keeps running, which is why Don loves it. It gets low gas mileage and it works great for him to run the 50 miles each way to work. But God forbid we ever have to go anywhere in it as a family. What we want for him is a small, gas-saving sedan that the whole family can easily fit in. We'd use that around town - going to dinner, to church on Sunday, etc., and only use the van for trips or when Daddy's at work, since my van is such a gas-guzzler.

Don agreed to putting money away for furniture once he had his new, used car. However, here we still sit, trying to cram our family of 5 into his little sports car and pray it will get us home. He doesn't really seem to be interested in buying another car. I think buying the van threw him over the top. He can gear himself up for one car purchase every 5-7 years, and buying the van drew out all his car shopping savvy, although, truth be told, I did EVERY bit of that, and just showed him the finished product. But he had to spend money, which he HATES, and then there's the tag, tax, title, insurance, etc. It all drives Don crazy. So, he's drug his feet so bad, the used car salemen don't even call him anymore. And I have no new furniture.

I mentioned this sequence of events to him recently and he laughed. He recognized that my frustration with our home is directly tied to his inability to purchase a car. In the meanwhile, I've been trying to get a vision for what I want to do in each room, prioritizing each one, so I don't waste valuable time and money when I'm ready to purchase. I want to redo the living room and make it a classy room that I'd be happy taking visitors into, instead of a junky room, like everywhere else in the house. A new couch is a definite, since the old one now has a slipcover over it (there's a reason why they call them "slip" covers). And we inherited an old recliner from my parents that my Grandmother gave my father and my mother was throwing out. He begged me to rescue it for him, but someone else's sentimentality can only clutter MY house for SO-O-O-O long. The time is up for the blue recliner. It needs to find a home at my parent's or someone else's house. I really want a sectional because our living room is such a strange size - long and narrow (15' X 30'), and I think a sectional would be more versatile. I've always wanted a fireplace in the living room, but Don is hot-natured and refused to put one in when we rebuilt. I've recently discovered electric fireplaces that plug into an outlet, and I'm going to invest in one for our living room. Then I'll have a mantle, as well, which I've always wanted.

At first I thought I wanted to go with a dark color in there and do more of a designer look. But I've recently been thinking about keeping my slightly off-white walls, natural woodwork and beautiful eggshell lace curtains, and building a "white linen Southern look" around them with magnolias, attractive furniture, an oriental screen, and less clutter. I'm finally beginning to get a vision and ideas. I'm really excited about the living room.

I've begun to turn my focus to the Den (which is REALLY sad). The room is very small, WAY too cramped, and has a lot of wasted space due to the lay-out. One of my close friends, who has a wonderful eye for decorating, suggested that I get the TV out of it and make it into a Study instead of a Den, because of the size. I don't know. I really want a family room. If the children are watching TV in the living room, it won't be nice for long. We have lots of options, none of which are great plans. One would be to make the spare bedroom into a Den or Study (but then we wouldn't have a spare bedroom, which has been my plan for quite some time.)

The problem is that we have the computer and all its "stuff" (file cabinets, printer, scanner, etc.) in there as well as the TV, movies, and seating. But Don doesn't usually just sit with the family. He's not a TV watcher. If he's in the den with us on weekends, it's because he's working on the computer and, at least, we're in the same room together. If I move the TV OR the computer, we won't have that option for family time.

I don't know. Needs lots more thought and prayer. One thing that would help is a larger couch. We only have a loveseat, which we can cram three people onto, if we try, but the people are getting larger, not smaller, and it's getting harder and harder to fit into this room.

More thought and prayer. That's what I need. And a car for Don so we can start saving for furniture.

I'm sure the list could go on and on, but we'll stop there for today. NEEDS LIST: 1. Car for Don; 2. Thought; 3. Prayer.

Endorphin Junkie

My ankle that collided with the leg of the kneeler at church last week is still swollen. Most of the bruising has receded, but the swelling and pain don't give me any hope of going away anytime soon. On Mother's Day, after being on my ankle all day, I was complaining to Don about how much it hurt.

"You just need to stay off of it for a few days," he suggested. Right. And exactly how do you do that with a 5-yr. old?

I started to day Monday with so much swelling, I knew I had to do something. So Daelyn and I took his siblings to school, came home and I switched loads of laundry, then we put a movie on the computer, piled up on the loveseat with my foot elevated, and settled in. Don bought, "Night at the Museum" for the boys the night I went camping with Deanna and I hadn't seen it yet. Daelyn and I had a very peaceful morning. Then we ate lunch, I switched loads again, and we laid down for a 2 1/2 hour nap.

I've had a cold setting in, which turned quite wicked Sunday night - runny nose, coughing, unable to sleep. My Monday morning, it was all I could do to get the kids to school before I collapsed, so it was the perfect opportunity to "rest the ankle". By Tuesday morning, the swelling was significantly down. However, I called my doctor Monday afternoon and asked to be seen, very concerned that this amount of swelling over this period of time was more than just a popped blood vessel.

I got into the doctor yesterday. He sent me for an X-ray, concerned that I might have broken or cracked a bone. I have a re-check on Friday. In the meantime, my cold has settled in my chest and seems to be turning into bronchitis. Seems to me this happened around this same time last year (not the ankle, but the bronchitis). Billy (my doctor) gave me a prescription for antibiotics in case I need them later this week and told me to take Ibuprofen for the ankle swelling. It does seem to be better. Something about injuries - mention going to the doctor and - voila - they're better.

I finally got back to the gym today. My friend, Rachel, talks about endorphins and how wonderful they are. I guess I've never really experienced them - - until recently. Suddenly, I can identify with all those endorphin remarks. When I work out, my general state of mind is better and I'm much happier and more content. Endorphins. At least, it seems that way. I needed a dose of endorphins today. Another close friend, Anne, raised her eyebrow when she heard me talking and I mentioned working out.

"Are you SURE you feel well enough to tackle the gym today?" she asked, carefully. I laughed.

"I'll take it easy - a short, light work-out, but I need them endorphins."

I can barely talk, my chest is hurting and I'm coughing, and my ankle is swollen. But I feel GREAT!! Gotta get more gym time soon - my cure-all.

Highlights of the Week

Dane caught a large bullfrog tonight in the yard - his first. He's thrilled. He had to show it to all the members of the family. He rubbed the bumpy skin and felt the fingers on the little short front legs. He wanted to keep it, but I convinced him to let it go - just in case it had a wife and children who needed it for Mother's Day.

Deanna asked to go to the Prayer Meeting last night so she could share about me. Her teacher's husband was leading the meeting and the kids were told there'd be a chance for them to share about their mothers. She was very pleased, even though I wasn't there. I can't wait to go the Video.

I talked with my friend, Kim, today. England is so far away, yet we had an hour-long chat and it felt like we were right next door to each other again.

A good amount of the "dealing" is dealt with and things are improving already.

Daelyn got to go to school for his "come-and-see" day. He's convinced that the purpose of the hour and a half was for him to decide if he liked it or not, and since he does, he gets to go NOW.

I worked out several times this week at the Y and took my children on a nice bikeride one evening this week. Love those endorphins.

The kids only have 3 more weeks of school - YAY! Not only that, but I've been thinking a lot about the summer . . . lazy days swimming at the lake, grilling out, using the water park at the Y, visiting my sister-in-law in Colorado, spending a week at the beach, visiting my in-laws. I've asked for a fire kettle for Mother's Day so we can have fires in the backyard. There are few things I love more than a fire. I like fireplaces, bonfires, just about any kind of fire. Sitting around the warmth, having family time, eating s'mores, singing, drinking tea or hot chocolate. Can life get any better?

Tonight we had a late dinner on the deck, then sat around visiting with my father while he told war stories. Deanna and her spend-the-night guest even sat spellbound, listening. I love listening to my father's stories. Everytime he tells one I've heard before, he gives a little more detail and I understand the story a little better. It was so pleasant - warm spring evening, my family all together. These years are so precious.

Deanna had her Choir Concert this week, which was wonderful. Mom and Dad came with us so they could stay after and hear Dane play the handbells at our Rehearsal. He's really very good, which is pretty amazing for a 7-yr. old.

All-in-all, a full, good week, despite hard times.

Thanks for your prayers. Have a good weekend.

And, Monika, if you read this, I MISS YOU. Write soon.

Dealing, dealing, dealing . . .

. . . with issues, not cards.

What I'd give to be dealing out a hand of cards today instead of dealing with all the issues my children are struggling with.

Please pray for our family as we deal with some very difficult, painful situations. We need wisdom and courage, unity and strength.

And mercy - lots of mercy.

As I Limp Along ...

I understand that there are some children who have difficulty orienting themselves in space. These children have difficulty knowing where their body parts are located when their eyes are closed. For example, touching your nose or your ear with closed eyes sometimes is not possible children with spacial struggles.

This weekend, I found myself wondering if Daelyn has spacial challenges. Cool weather set in, so Daelyn wore his hiking boots to church on Sunday. They're clodhoppers and he couldn't seem to get within 3 feet of me without stepping on my toes, which were poking out of the end of my heeled white sandals. This happened no less than 6 times.

Then, while standing peacefully, singing a hymn (peacefully because Daelyn was at the other end of the pew with Don, giving Deanna and I a little break from wild child), the kneeler came crashing down on my already-sore foot. The leg of the kneeler hit my outside left ankle. I couldn't exactly scream with pain in the middle of church, so I gritted my teeth, sat down and closed my eyes, waiting for the pain to subside. It never did. Within minutes, a huge blue lump appeared on my ankle. Don suggested I sneal out and put ice on it. After 20 minutes of ice, the lump had gone down significantly, only to reappear once the ice was removed for a few minutes. I rejoined my family and the congregation, Daelyn asked my forgiveness, and we took Communion.

I have a bruise that covers half my foot now. And lying on my left side is almost impossible, because it requires my foot to lay on the outside and the bruising is so bad, I can't stand the pain when it's touched. Yesterday, I went to the Y right after dropping the kids off at school and stayed in my tennis shoes all day. By last night, my foot was so sore, it was hard to step on it. I'm going to try and stay in slippers as much as possible today to give my foot a break.

In an effort yesterday to justify the pain in my foot, I had Daelyn close his eyes.

"Touch your nose, please," I requested. Dead on. Daelyn opened one eye and glanced at me. No spacial challenges here, except when in proximity to Mom.

Brilliant Conversationalists

Deanna came home from school this afternoon and asked for her after-school snack.

"Mom, I'm going to go change clothes. When I come out, will you have my snack ready?"

I responded, "Please put your clean clothes from the laundry room away before you come back up to the front of the house - hanging AND folded clothes, please."

A few minutes later, Deanna returned to the kitchen.

"Clothes?" I asked, with one eyebrow raised (a brilliant tactic I taught myself as a young teenager.)

"Snack!" Deanna responded.

I lowered my chin, raised both eyebrows, looked her straight in the eyes and said, "Clothes!"

Now it was her turn to raise an eyebrow. In a defiant tone, she responded, "Snack".

"Clothes" I spoke in a slightly raised tone, still trying to keep it level.

"Snack!" she snipped back.

Menacingly, I lowered my tone, set my teeth, and said, "Clothes."

Deanna grinned. "Snack!"

I slapped the counter and yelled, "Clothes!!!!"

Deanna walked from the room, yelling over her shoulder, "Snack".

When she returned 5 minutes later, her snack was on the table waiting for her.

Not within the next 10 years!

Dane: "Will I be able to do all the cooking for the family when I'm 17?"

Me: "Well, you'd be able to, but not many 17 year olds cook for their family. Mommy's usually do that."

Dane: "Well, I mean, when you're old and decrepid."

Daddy and Pup

Don is so quiet, he appears to not care about things. His basic demeanor makes people think that he's nonchalant. The truth is, he feels things VERY deeply, he just doesn't express his feelings.

When we arrived in England, a little less than 2 weeks after Don, all his co-workers knew all our names and pieces of information about every family member. I was shocked, but apparently he talks about us quite a bit.

Since Donovan joined our family a little over a year ago, Don has kept up an appearance of nonchalance towards the dog . . . with a couple of notable exceptions. Like the night he was going to bed and got frustrated because Donovan wouldn't join him. He claimed he wanted Donovan to come to bed so he'd settle down and wouldn't come in later and wake Don up. I skeptically nodded.

There've been other incidents like this, but this morning's took the cake. I was just finishing my bath (Donovan always sits outside the tub and waits for me to get out) when Don came in to start his shower. He shaved, then started the water to warm it up before getting in. When he opened the shower door, Donovan stuck his nose in, checking out the inside of the shower stall.

"You want to come in, Little Boy?" asked Don. "You can take a shower with Daddy."

Don opened and closed the door several times, giving Donovan WAY more chances than he needed. Donovan stood with his nose poking in, seemingly unable to make up his mind. I finally gave him a push, and he jumped in. Don closed the door and Donovan showered with Dad.

I don't know if the dog will ever approach the shower again, but he didn't seem to mind. At one point, I checked on him, and he was sitting on the floor of the stall, scratching some itch.

Daddy and puppy - a bond almost as strong as father and son - or so it seems.

Family Time

I camped out Friday night with Deanna's Little Sister's Group. The Leader's husband went out to the lake early in the day and set up their pop-up camper. He had decided we needed to use the pop-up instead of tents for a variety of reasons. But the camper wasn't large enough for all the girls and the 3 female chaperones, so the Leader borrowed our family tent, as well.

I was assigned to sleep in the tent with 4 of the girls, Deanna and three others slept in the camper. We had a wonderful time. I really do love camping.

Upon our arrival home, I received a phone call from one of the Moms.

"My daughter left her glasses in the tent last night," she told me. I laid the tent out in the backyard, opened the door, and climbed in to fish out the offending glasses. As I stood there looking at the tent, the thought occurred to me that the boys hadn't gotten to partake of this great adventure. And they love to camp as much as Deanna and me. So, I hatched a plan. It took Don a little while to agree to it, but we camped out as a family in the backyard Saturday night.

I took the kids to Wal-Mart in the afternoon to buy blow-up camp mattresses for the boys and get them out of the house so Don could nap (he's not sleeping well at night these days - he could use a lot of prayer), and I thought about how much I wanted a campfire. The kids and I decided to try and borrow a fire kettle from friends and I bought two bundles of wood and the fixin's for S'mores at Wal-Mart. On the way home, we stopped and invited Grandma and Grandpa to join us for dinner on the deck and S'mores around the campfire after.

I quickly finished preparing the tent (blowing up air mattresses with the compressor and digging out sleeping bags for everyone from the toy room), made a nice dinner or pan-fried chicken, boiled parsley potatoes, and corn with lemon, built and started the fire so the coals would be ready for marshmallow roasting, and we ate on the deck.

After dinner and clean-up (which was WAY easier in the house than at a campsite), we all sat around the fire, threw a few more logs on, and ate S'mores to our heart's content. We invited the sons of a neighbor to join us, then sent one of them back home for their mom. God forbid she miss out on this great time. It was getting dark and the kids wanted to play tag. They sprawled out across the backyard while the adults sat around and sang camp songs. The neighbors went home and a single friend of ours came by to visit. Grandma and Grandpa left, Don went in, the kids got ready for bed, and my friend and I sat around the campfire and visited.

It was an amazing night. The weather was cool, the moon was full, and we were comfortable in our little family tent. We had great fellowship with family and friends, which wouldn't have happened anywhere but the backyard. And we had a family adventure that ranks up there with our favorite pastimes.

I gotta get me one of those fire kettles.