The Beach Beckons

No rain for weeks and weeks. Then, as soon as Don and I go outside to load the van for our beachtrip - monsoon!

Actually, it rained yesterday afternoon, too. I'm thankful for the rain. We certainly need it.

It made me realize that we might ought to pack a few extra things for the beach. What if it rains for hours while we're there. I asked Deanna earlier to pack a few fun things to do.

"Mom," she said, "all I plan on doing is boogey-boarding."

That's all fine and wonderful, but we can't spend 12 hours/day on the beach without looking like an over-cooked McDonald's french fry. We have to have some other things to do. And what if it DOES rain? Then, of course, there's the issue of the jellyfish. A friend of mine who lives on Tybee Island told me that the jellyfish only seem to be bad during one tide. He couldn't remember if it was high tide or low tide, but that eliminates half of the day if we're avoiding one tide.

We got the bikes loaded and the children's suitcases, boogey-boards and two beach chairs. The van is full. We still have all the food, the beach umbrella, the beach bag, my clothes, the playing cards, the beach towels, the . . . And no space left.

The packing is always the worst part of this process. But, by this time tomorrow, I'll be smelling salt air and hearing the surf. It's definately worth it all.

I'll be signing off for the next week while I enjoy our final vacation before school starts in September. And maybe, just maybe, I'll get some much-needed rest before the ratrace starts all over again.

Word Games

Deanna is trying to finish up her school work so she can turn it all in before we leave for the beach on Saturday. I did two pages of Math Speed Drills with her, then we sat down to eat lunch yesterday.

"Okay, Daelyn, it's your turn," I said. "Let's practice saying words."

We've been working on Daelyn's speech patterns in preparation for the start of school. I've been teaching him to say t-rain for train instead of shrain, which is how he says every blend. He always reverts back to an "sh" sound if he can't pronounce the sound correctly.

"Say 't-rain' for me," I prompted.

"T-rain," he said, perfectly. One of Deanna's eyebrows went up.

"Say 'barbecue'."

"Barbecue."

"Say 'b-read'."

"B-read."

Perfect everytime. No difficulty with blends, just perfectly clear words.

Deanna snickered and began giving him impossible words to pronounce that she can't even say correctly. Daelyn smiled. He knew he had done well. Then he began rattling off all her hard words after her.

Dane, meanwhile, was sitting quietly at his place at the table listening.

"Mom," he said with a worried tone.

"Yes, son?" I responded.

"I'm not sure I can say those words."

Don't worry, son. At least you can spell them and Deanna can't.

Each of us have our gifts. Deanna is definitely her wit. But Dane runs circles around her in spelling. We're not yet sure what gifts Daelyn possesses, but cuteness has got to be one of them.

I'm Going to be Published Again

for the first time in many years. Greg Lang, a New York Times bestselling author, is doing a book on the relationship between fathers and their daughters. He e-mailed me and asked me to submit a story "with a motivational, heart-felt message. Something others can read and say “ah-ha” or “I want to be just like that” afterward."

I thought about it for a couple of weeks, then submitted a story along with a story my sister remembers of my father. Greg wrote back and asked permission to use my sister's story, as well.

You can read Part II of my story on his Blog post for August 9. Part I was on August 8.

Hope it makes you want to call your Dad.

Play It Again, Sam

Deanna has a sore throat which has worsened over the last couple of days, so I took her to the doctor today. We were sitting in the Waiting Room talking about how loud her Daddy can be, especially for a very quiet man. We talked about how he pounds through the house when he walks, shaking the whole house, and how loud he talks when it's quiet. Normally, we can barely hear him.

Then we began talking about what type of volume is appropriate in different places. She said,
"Everyone always talks in a whisper in places like this."

"That's because this is a place of business," I explained. You need to be businesslike in here - and that means quiet. You should use a soft voice at all places of business. Not like the grocery store, where you go to socialize."

I glanced at Deanna. She had that "you're crazy" look on her face. I quickly re-thought what I had just said.

"What? Why are you looking at me like that?" I asked, absolutely clueless what the look was about.

"Mama, most people don't consider going to the grocery store to be a social function," she jibed.

Then they don't shop where I shop, I thought.

Open Mouth, Insert Foot

I was in the kitchen cutting up red bell peppers to freeze. Grandma and Grandpa Doughty gave me a bagful and I needed to do something with them. Deanna was eating breakfast at the table and Daelyn was talking to her.

"That thing that hangs down is called a hose," I heard Daelyn say.

"No it's not, honey," I interrupted. "It's called the uvula."

Deanna and Daelyn stared at me.

"That thing that hangs down in your throat in the back - it's called the uvula," I explained to their blank expressions.

"That thing hanging off Mr. Bud's closeline over there?" Deanna asked, pointing out the window to the neighbor's yard.

I looked out the window, then remembered the conversation at dinner last night where we had been discussing what that thing could be. Don thought the clothesline had fallen. I thought it was too thick for the clothesline, but didn't have any other ideas. Apparently, Daelyn checked it out, and it's a hose.

"Oh." I did it again.

Those Old Pregnancy Conditions

While we were in West Virginia, a local glass company, Fenton Glass, held their annual Glass Festival. Don and Grandpa took the children. They had a tour of the Glassworks and three demonstrations of glass-blowing. The children were quite impressed and came home with lots of stories. In addition to the Glassworks, there were booths set up outside by all kinds of different glass crafters - stained glass, painted glass, etc.

Before they left for the Festival, Deanna and I were talking about the day. I told her what I needed to get done and she told me there were several things she wanted to do that day.

"But we're going to the Phenergen Gas Festival!" she told me.

" 'Phenergen'?" I asked. She giggled.

"I meant, 'Fenton'."

" 'Gas' Festival?" I kidded. She hadn't caught that one.

Uproarious laughter. "Is THAT what I said? 'Phenergen Gas'?" More peels of laughter.

What can I say? My daughter's been around pregnant women a lot lately. Any guesses what our conversations have been about?

Summer Visitor

We drove up to West Virginia on Friday to leave Dane with his grandparents for a week. We're driving halfway up this Friday to pick him up again.

This is his first time staying by himself with his grandparents. Deanna's been doing it for three years now and we decided Dane was old enough.

He couldn't wait to get us out of the house. He was eager for HIS time with grandma and grandpa to start. When we got home on Sunday, I called to let them know we had arrived and asked to speak to Dane. The message came back that he didn't want to talk. Little stinker. Grandma and I finally convinced him to say hello.

He called last night to tell us goodnight, per his instructions. He went to the grocery store to pick out what he wanted to eat, Grandpa took him swimming and then to a nearby ball park to practice batting - a pretty full day. While he has the time of his life, we are all missing him terribly. The house is extraordinarily quiet. It's not that Dane talks alot or is noisy, it's just that Daelyn doesn't have anyone to talk to or play with, so he's abnormally quiet. It also seems strangely empty.

If a few years, Daelyn will start this trek to Grandma's house for a week. I'm not sure how we're going to pull off 6 trips back and forth to West Virginia in the course of the summer, but we'll have to figure it out. As he's already reminding us, "I get to go too some day."

Maybe they'll move closer and he can spend a week up the street!

Banana Tree Republic

Last year around birthday time, Don's mother e-mailed me and asked me for suggestions for him and Deanna, whose birthday follows his by 2 weeks. I asked Don for his list and, in a rare display of forethought, he produced A LIST! Usually, he suggests socks and underwear and I have to pull teeth to get the occasional belt or shirt suggestion out of him.

I excitedly began typing the list in my e-mail response. Don's handwriting alone could have qualified him for medical school, so I struggled a little. He helped me with some of the electronics he wanted, explaining what he needed and how it worked. The rest I thought I understood, since the bottom of the list was all gift certificates to various places, including Lowe's.

Three days later, Don came into the kitchen laughing, with a copy of my e-mail in his hand.

"So, you thought I wanted a gift certificate to Banana Tree, huh?"

"Yeah, but what the heck IS Banana Tree. I thought perhaps you meant Banana Republic, but I just copied the list the way I read it."

"What it should have said, honey, was banana tree. I want a banana tree to plant in the front yard, not a gift certificate." Don obviously thought this was hilariously funny.

A BANANA TREE? That's bizarre, which I was very quick to tell him. Turns out he had talked with a friend of ours who works for the forestry and has his Masters in some kind of plant-something - anyway, he's quite an expert in plants and trees, what they do, how they grow, etc., and he had recommended a banana tree to Don for a specific situation Don described.

Two weeks later a box arrived for Don. It was from his parents and contained - - you guessed it, a banana tree. It's only supposed to grow as high as 5 feet and will get small, edible bananas on it. Way cool, we thought. Don read up on it, we chose a place in the yard, dug a huge hole, filled in halfway with mulch mixed with fertilizer, and planted his tree. It grew from the end of September until we left for England in November. We were a little concerned about how it'd do, so we asked Grandpa to put another wheelbarrow full of pine mulch on the top after we left.

When we returned in February, all the leaves were dead and there was a small stump poking out of the ground. We were afraid it was dead, but Don was very hopeful. He said that he research indicated that the top would die off each winter, but the roots would live and it would re-sprout each spring.

When it began to grow again in March, we got very excited. It's grown and grown and has to be close to 5 feet now. Still no edible bananas, but it may take a few years for that to happen. When we came home after being gone over the weekend, it seemed like it had grown another foot in 2 days. With the bud of each new leaf, it adds about another 6 inches in heighth.

I'm sure glad he asked for a banana tree and not a gift certificate to Banana Tree. This has been loads more fun. I'll post pictures soon of the boys with the tree so you can get a feel for the size. And I'll be sure to post a picture of us chowing down on ripe, small bananas as soon as I can.

Oh, so much soap!

I've decided to find some local crafts shows and start selling my soap products - soap-infused loofahs, bath salts, bath bombs and fizzies, and soap, soap, soap.

I chose 7 scents to begin my inventory and needed to make some of each product in each scent. But to do that, I needed more soap base. I placed an order on-line for 24 pounds of creamy white and 24 pounds of clear glycerin. The shipping costs were a whopping $30.00, plus the $1.40/lb. I paid for the soap.

Last week I noticed Donovan chewing on something in the den. He had white on his beard. The kids and I searched the house, trying the find the culprit. Finally, we checked the living room where a suitcase was laying open from our trip to Colorado. (All this soap-making, I haven't had time to unpack that suitcase yet.) Donovan had eaten a bar of white soap - paper and all - from the resort in Colorado. It smelled good, so he decided to eat it.

He was a sick puppy for a few days. He's completely ruled by his nose. If something smells good, he has to taste it. I was hoping his stomach problems and two days of vomiting would cure at least his interest in soap.

We came home yesterday after picking my car up from the shop and I found teeth marks in my 24-lb. block of creamy white soap. It doesn't even have any scent - it's just the soap base.

I guess he hasn't learned his lesson. Apparently, he liked it so much that he's now eating unscented soap.

I told Deanna. She was aghast.

"The problem is this, honey. At $30 a pop for shipping, I can't afford to 'feed' Donovan's soap habit."

I got the elicited response. Deanna giggled.

Grad School

My 28-yr. old niece, the one who went on vacation with me EVERY summer when I was single, then joined my family after I was married, who used to spend the weekend with me when she was little and we'd go to late-night movies and stay up late, eat popcorn and go out to dinner, the niece who now so graciously gives of her time to babysit for Don and I from time to time so we can have a date, like on our Anniversary last year when we spent the night at a hotel and she stayed with the children overnight, my Goddaughter, my precious, sweet girl who was the most beautiful baby I had ever seen (until, of course, Deanna was born) - that niece - is leaving this Saturday to move away.

When she applied for Grad School after college, she was advised that she needed a few year's experience in her field before she tackled it. She's had that and now realizes that she's not going to get anywhere in her career without a a Master's behind her name. So, she's leaving home for the first time ever.

She's only moving 2 hours away, but still . . . no longer hearing her voice when I call her Mom, knowing that she's no longer across town. And, the financial situation of a Grad Student. She's been offered a job by the University that will cover her tuition and pay her apartment rent, but little else. She'll be teaching 5 classes, count them, five - at 9, 10, 11, 1 and 2. The classes she's taking are from 6 to 9:15 at night.

She came for dinner tonight since we'll be in West Virginia and can't help move her this weekend. It was our farewell dinner. After we ate, we sat in the Den to visit and I asked all the pertinent questions. Turns out, they're working her like a dog for a mere pittance. In addition to teaching five classes, which includes lectures AND labs, she also has to put EVERYTHING on computer, grade tests, prepare lesson plans - all this while getting to know a roommate, learning the town, shopping and cooking for herself, trying to meet people and establish herself in a church, not to mention attending class herself, studying, writing papers, taking tests, etc. She has to go to school for two summers, too. And then, to have the financial situation hanging over your head . . . it was just too much for me. I broke down and cried.

Big mistake. It just upset her more. She kept saying, "It'll all work out. It'll get done somehow. It'll be okay." I wasn't sure if she was trying to convince me or her. But we both had a good cry.

I just have to keep remembering that this precious person is a woman of faith. While I see her as a frail innocent she really is a woman who trusts her Lord with everything. When she says, "It'll work out", what she means is, "The Lord will take care of it for me, somehow." She has faith to move mountains and feels that the Lord prompted her to pursue Grad School and has opened all the right doors for her.

That may all be true, but I'm still an Aunt, and what I see is my darling baby girl preparing to march out into the world. How am I ever going to handle sending my own children away to college when I panic over my niece?

We went to the kitchen and cleaned out my pantry, sending boxes of food with her. Don came in to put some of the overflow into bags for her and pulled out a box of 24 granola bars he just bought at the store over the weekend.

"I can't believe your giving these to her! I just bought them," he fussed at me.

"There's more at the store," I responded. "We can get more. SHE can't. This is our one chance to send some food." At least for the first month, perhaps she won't have to spend too much money on food. The expense of moving can be daunting - utilities, gas, all the little things Mom has always provided like laundry detergent, a mirror, etc., not to mention having to buy everything you need to set up housekeeping.

I had the children tell her goodbye inside before Don and I walked her to her car. As the boys were hugging her, she said, "I'll see you in three weeks at the beach!"

We looked at each other and cracked up through our tears. This horribly sad, gut-wrenching goodbye, and the truth is, she's coming for a day or two to join us at the beach for vacation - as usual - in three weeks.

The laughter helped to break up the pain a little, but seeing her for one day while knowing she lives away isn't quite the same thing as when she usually joins us. It's bittersweet, at the very least.

But God has a plan. I just have to trust that and Him. My precious niece isn't disappearing from my life - I'll just have to work a little harder and plan a little better to see her.

Who knows - if my emotion motivates me, maybe I'll see her more over the next two years than I did when she was in town.

I hope so. I think she could use that. I KNOW I could.

It's time to go to the Doctor when . . .

. . . I'm trying to smooch with my husband and can't kiss him because I'm so stuffed up I can't breathe through my nose.

"I'd love to kiss you, honey, but give me a break every now and then to breathe."

Pitiful. Dr. Billy, here I come.

Equalizers

My mother is in need of some extensive dental work. Last week, I took her to our regular dentist who took X-rays, explained the problem, and referred her to a specialist to be evaluated for implants. Her appointment with the specialist was this morning. My father came down to keep the children so I could take her.

As we were finishing up with the specialist, he called our dentist to explain how he was going to proceed. Our dentist suggested that since we were in the area to have us come by his office and he'd do an imprint for a temporary plate for Mom while her mouth is healing. We buzzed right over to her dentist's office and they took us right in.

As we were leaving his office, my sister showed up. She's a realtor and our dentist had called her and asked her to sell some property for him. We were tickled to see her and Mom decided we should have lunch together.

I felt bad about abandoning my father with the children, so we called to check it out with him. Daelyn answered the phone.

"Jesus loves you," he crooned in that sweet, 5-yr. old voice.

"Hi, baby. Is Grandpa there?"

"HI, MAMA!" he shouted, with great excitement in his voice, as if I'd been gone for 3 or 4 weeks.

"Hi, honey. Is Grandpa there?" I repeated.

"He's in the bathroom right now. Do you want to talk to Donovan."

"No, honey, I don't want to talk to the dog." I could hear my mother and sister laughing, then Mom repeating the situation to the office help.

"Just go stand outside the bathroom door, don't go in, and tell Grandpa that Grandma and I are on the phone and we need to speak to him."

I could hear Daelyn walking down the hall, then I hear him calling to my father.

"Grandpa?"

"What!" rather gruffly in response.

"Mama's on the phone and she says she needs to speak to you."

"Well, I can't do anything about that right now. Tell her she'll have to wait." I suppose Grandpa's not too accustomed to little boys disturbing him at such a sensitive time with a phone call.

"Okay, Mama, Grandpa said you'll have to wait, so I'm putting the phone to Donovan's ear. Say hello."

"No, Daelyn . . . hello, Donovan," as I realize he can't hear me because he's already put the phone to the dog's ear and is yelling for me to speak to our pet.

Mom and Toni crack up. So much for handling the phone call in a business-like manner.

Children are a great equalizer. My friend who had her baby last week told me that, while she was pushing, her doctor's beeper went off. Her doctor, who is a woman, asked the nurse to check it for her as she was a little busy.

"You daughter wants to know what chores she needs to do before you get home from work," the nurse reported.

I guess even doctors have children to topple their hopes of professionalism.

Ah, children. Thank you, Lord, for giving me a constant reminder of my own insignificance and for not allowing me to take myself too seriously.

Clementine(s)

We have a new illness in our house. It manifests itself by uncontrollable laughter and milk spitting out of the mouth. Occasionally, it even spurts out a nose.

Now, lest you think otherwise, I'm not really that hilarious. However, you wouldn't know it by the condition around our table at mealtimes.

On Monday, Deanna spit ice cream onto her plate. Today, Dane spurted milk onto his. And all this mess because "Mommy's SO- O-O-O-O funny."

Ever since our beach trip to the Outer Banks last summer, we've had a fruit bowl out on the counter in the kitchen. Even when we were in England, I kept a fruit bowl. It typically has oranges, Gala and Granny Smith apples (some like 'em tart, some like 'em sweet), and bananas. Every now and then, just for variety, I'll throw in grapes or kiwi fruit. Today I was at Wal-Mart with my mother and they had Clementines cheap, so I bought a bag. They didn't quite make it into the fruit bowl, but were laying on the kitchen table when we sat down to eat dinner. After I finished my black beans and rice (Don's Grandmother's recipe - she was a gourmet - and they're WONDERFUL), I opened the bag, picked out a piddly little Clementine and, as I peeled it, began singing the song by the same name, being careful to demonstrate the "ruby lips above the water" while I sang about them.

Yes, just as you predicted - milk out of the mouth and nose. I was beginning to think Deanna might even shoot it out her ears.

By the end of dinner, Dane and Daelyn were both happily singing their own rendition of "Clementine" - "you are lost in Mommy's tummy. Dreadful sorry, Clementine."

Deanna shook her head. "You're ALL crazy!" she pronounced.

Just remember, babe. The apple (Doughty, in this case) doesn't fall too far from the tree.

"1, 2, 16"

When we re-did our house and built a kitchen nook, I bought a table at which I intended for us to eat all our meals. Unless, of course, we had company. Then we could sit in the dining room.

I found a lovely natural wood table that seated 6 comfortably and had a drop leaf. I purchased 4 chairs for three sides of the table, and a bench for the side that goes along the back wall.

In the three of four years since buying the table, we've had many different seating assignments. At first, I put Daelyn next to me so I could help him with his meal. He was in a booster seat, which only attached to the chairs . . . or so we thought. After not being able to get through a single meal without him laying all over me and grabbing me, we decided to give his booster seat a try on the bench. Then Deanna complained that Dane twiddled his hands constantly during our grace before meals. It drove her crazy. Deanna had to be moved. There was also the issue of Deanna frequently falling off the bench. Anytime she got really tickled about something - whoops! Off she'd go.

Our final seating assignment is - Don at the head, me at his left. Next to me on the chair is Deanna. On Don's right is Daelyn. Next to Daelyn is Dane. The chair at the opposite end is the guest chair.

This arrangement has been working fairly well. However, my children have been pretty tired and snarly since getting home from Colorado. Mountain time is two hours behind us and we're getting over our high-altitude sickness, so this week has been challenging. Today we went for Mexican food at lunchtime. Halfway through the meal, Dane curled up in a ball in the booth and told me he was going to take a nap. I hurried the children into the van, home, and into their beds. We all needed a good nap.

The problem is this - they desperately needed a nap, but they feel so much better now, they're giddy. Daelyn has been laughing uncontrollably about nothing. Dane is smiling sweetly, and Deanna even asked me kindly to dish up salad with only a few tomatoes for her. Then she commented under her breath, "I know, I know. I REALLY do feel better after a nap. You don't even have to say it."

"I wasn't going to say that," I told her. "But I was thinking something very similar."

"What?"

"You can catch more bees with honey than you can with vinegar," I explained.

"What does that mean, Mama?" Dane asked. I explained, making sure they knew that the correct saying was "flies" not "bees", but flies sounds nasty. Bees sounds so much nicer.

Dane smiled. Daelyn started laughing and fell off the bench.

When he pulled himself back into place again, Deanna said, "Are you okay, Bud? How many fingers am I holding up?"

I glanced at her. She was holding three fingers in the air.

"16," Daelyn blurted out.

Yep! He's just fine.

The Cherub

My friend, Kelly, had her baby today. What a joyous occasion! I kidded both my pregnant friends before I left for Colorado that they had to hold out for my return. Kelly managed to pull that off, so I spent the day at the hospital with her.

Once her beautiful, 8 lb. 10 oz. baby boy was born, I was standing in the room, holding him, in awe of the miracle that is childbirth. Kelly was watching him and I was watching her. I got very choked up. God's gift of life is amazing. Tears began to flow down my face when she looked at me. She started to tear up and then we both laughed.

10 very long, thin fingers. Two big feet with perfect little toes and nails. Thin, dark eyebrows and a beautiful little button nose. Just the right amount of redness to indicate a healthy baby. Just enough rolls to keep you from worrying. An intensity in his glance that warms the heart. And a darling cleft in his chin that hints at cherubim.

Ah! The beauty of new birth. God must love us to give us precious little creatures like this to care for.

And precious friends with which we can share our joy.

The Rockies

We've been in Vail, Colorado for the last week, having a wonderful time. We decided to trade our timeshare in Hilton Head for one in Colorado so we could see Don's sister and brother-in-law, who live outside of Denver. We submitted our vacation request last summer and RCI (Resort Condominiums International) found a match for us while we were in London after Christmas. Delta was able to hook us up with frequent flier tickets, so it seemed like all the doors were opening.

We flew out last Saturday - early morning - and arrived in Denver around lunchtime (their time). We picked up our rental car and headed to the mountains. Don's brother-in-law has recently started a new job and doesn't have any vacation time accrued, so they rented a condo at the same place we were staying for the weekend. We got to spend Saturday afternoon with them and most of the day on Sunday. We had dinner together Saturday night and they took Don grocery shopping while I unpacked some. We had a wonderful time and the boys fell in love with their Uncle Brian. Deanna was very attracted to her Aunt Sue and almost wore Sue's poor ears off.

On Tuesday, we drove down to Colorado Springs to visit Focus on the Family's campus. We had a wonderful time, riding the 3-story corkscrew slide called "A-bend-ago" and eating ice cream at Whit's End (from the radio program, "Adventures in Odyssey"). We hit the bookstore and they had some great sales. Then we took off north to meet Brian and Sue for dinner outside of Denver.

The following day, we went White Water Rafting on the Colorado River. Sue drove up and met us to go with us. Daelyn had whined and complained, saying he was too scared to go, but we reassured him that the Colorado was a very easy river, and he had nothing to be worried about.

We had been in the raft about 5 minutes, headed downstream, when Daelyn pronounced "this is boring!" Hah! That was only minutes before we hit the first rapids.

By the time we had been through a few rapids and two people flipped their ducky and we had to perform a rescue in the middle of rapids, he changed his mind and decided white water rafting was pretty cool. Dane (my daredevil) felt it was a little too mild for him. He wanted rougher rapids with a little more excitement, so he'll be well-positioned for future rafting trips with Mom.

We were amazed by the road we took to the Colorado River. The Rockies are amazing, in that the side of the mountain that faces away from the sun is green and lush due to snow covering the ground for numerous months out of the year, then melting nicely to produce green, lush undergrowth. The other side of the mountains, the side facing full sun, is like a desert. The ground was rocky and the only thing that grew was sagebrush. It was a drastic change in environment from one side of the mountain to the other.

Some of the highlights of our trip were: walking through the B-17 bomber that's used as the Clubhouse in the Last Chance Detectives, another radio series from Focus; seeing the stagecoach road cut into the side of the mountain as we floated down the Colorado River; taking pictures of the chipmunk on the top of the mountain when we took the gondola ski lift to the summit to look around; visiting Buffalo Bill's grave and realizing that the old West really did exist - and right where we were at! Of course, the best part of our trip was spending time with Brian and Sue.

I'll post some pictures later in the week. We got home after midnight last night, so I have lots of unpacking and laundry to tend to, but I ought to be able to fit in a Post or two.

Tops and Bottoms

I've been going to physical therapy twice a week for my ankle. You might remember it got hit by the leg of the kneeler at church. Progress has been slow, but it seems to be doing a little better today after a week's rest, so we're back on track with more exercises.

After therapy, we stopped at the Mall. In my nesting, I've cleaned out Deanna's dresser drawers. We got rid of clothes that don't fit or that she doesn't wear and, in the process, found two pairs of shorts without shirts that I didn't even know she had.

Penney's had some darling shirts on sale a few weeks ago that would go well with her shorts, so we made a quick stop to pick up two.

The boys insisted on looking in the boys' department. As we were wandering through, I realized that all of Dane's shorts sets need help. I found a great buy several years ago on Adidas athletic shorts and bought him several pairs in different styles and colors. Later, I found shirts for him on sale, and we matched them up to the shorts, producing 4 or 5 nice shorts sets. Lately, I've noticed that the shorts are plenty long, but the shirts are getting way too short. I found a 3-pack of screen-printed T's on sale in the right colors and threw it in with Deanna's tops. When we got home, we matched them to his shorts and he tried on the new outfits with the old shorts.

They looked great on him. He now has shirts at an appropriate length. As I was folding the old shirts to put in the pile for Daelyn to grow into, I checked the size on one.

5! It was a size 5. No wonder they were getting a little short on my 8-yr. old.

So much for putting them away for Daelyn. He's in size 5's now.

There's Something in the Water

I got a phone call while in England from a friend of mine. She called to tell me she was pregnant. She didn't want me to hear from somebody else, so she got my number from my parents and called to give us the good news.

"Have you heard about the others?" she asked.

OTHERS, you say?!? What others.

Apparently, two friends for which I had been praying (and who both live within 2 blocks of me) conceived at almost the same time. One has 4 boys and I've been praying for a little girl to soften them there boys (although another boy would be great, too, and she's already a great mom to boys, so it'd be a no-brainer for her). The other has two sons and has had difficulty staying pregnant since her last child. Both of them have been on my prayer list for quite sometime, and here they were - both pregnant, and both while we were in England.

The two for which I have been praying are due anytime now. It occurred to me today that all this cleaning and neatening may be displaced nesting. I've made sure both my friends know that I should be the first call for babysitting, so maybe all this preoccupation with order is my hormones, preparing for a baby.

Just don't drink the water around here unless your nursery is set up and ready. But if you need a sitter, I'm the gal to call!!

Hidden stuff

We've finally gotten our Den Armoire put together. Don's been moving our electronics into it so we can get rid of our old entertainment center. Last night, I organized all the DVD's and VHS's. This afternoon I was standing in the Den when one of the kids opened the drawer to take out a movie.

"WOW," he child exclaimed. Everything was neat, you could read the titles of all the movies, and they are EASY TO PUT AWAY NEATLY!!

I'm on a roll now. We have our new leather couch and our armoire where we can stash everything neatly behind closed doors. There's a very nice, large drawer for Deanna's dance mats, Dane's video games, and all the remotes. And the cushions on the couch can't be removed. I haven't a single time had to put them back on the couch correctly, like I'm accustomed to doing a dozen times daily.

Don's having visions of being able to find the remotes. The kids are having visions of being able to find their movies. And I'm having visions of neatness. "WOW" is right.

Next stop on the Doughty organized-home train - a new 4-drawer wooden file cabinet (to replace the three 2-drawer ones we have now) and a computer armoire so all of Don's computer mess can be organized and neatly closed off.

Excitement is rippling through the house. I'm beginning to feel like order in our home is attainable - at least, putting the stacks of papers behind closed doors is possible.

Hurrah for armoires.

New Pic

After our computer died while we were in England, Don purchased a new one that has a camera in it. We played around with it one evening, trying to get good shots. Don doesn't like pictures, so his came out like a still from "The Blair Witch Project". Mine was pretty good, so I'm going to change the picture on my Blog to this one.

Hope it works.

Tell me what you think.

A Visitor in our Home

I was on the phone with a friend several days ago and we were taking about her family going camping yesterday and returning today. In the midst of our conversation, she remembered that she was dog-sitting for another mutual friend. Mickey, a female poodle-mix, was staying at their house.

"What am I going to do with Mickey?" she wondered aloud. "I guess we could take her with us."

Mickey is older, a little frail, and doesn't quite seem like the camping-kind-of-dog.

"You could bring her over here and see if she and Donovan get along. If so, we could keep her for you," I offered.

I picked Mickey up yesterday afternoon when I took my kids swimming. She and Donovan seem to have come to some agreements, at least until he found her lying on the leather couch next to Don this morning. Jealousy erupted.

It's going okay, but we'll have to be careful not to hold her or be affectionate with this very affectionate dog while Donovan's nearby.

We love our Donovan best, but she's awfully cute, and don't we have an obligation to be hospitable to visitors?

Donovan votes "NO"!

Like Father, Like Son

My Mom: "He even hitches up his pants like Dane."

YUP! I never dreamed they looked so much alike at this age.

An End to All Good Things

Dane's team played their last baseball game last night. The previous night, they played the other team of kids from our school. It is also coached by a parent that we all know.

We were real concerned going into the game on Monday. Our team has only won 1 game, their team has only lost 1 game. We knew it would be a tough game and we prayed on the way to the field that we wouldn't get slaughtered.

As the game began, several of us parents in the stands quietly began a group prayer. One father said, "Let us bring them to their knees!" I prayed for the game to be close. Another father prayed that our boys not be humiliated. We all agreed in prayer that we wanted our boys to play their best and represent their team well. Then we took deep breaths and sat up to watch.

Our boys came on strong. I don't think they've ever played so well. We made 2 runs, then held the opposing team to two. The second inning ended with no additional runs on either side.
Unfortunately, we didn't score during the top of the third inning, either, and they scored 4 runs. The amazing thing was that we were playing the Second-ranked team in the League and, going into the bottom of the 3rd inning (we only play 4 innings), we were tied at 2.

We brought in another run in the top of the 4th, and the game ended with a respectable 6 - 3 score. Although we lost, the opposing coach commented that, at the beginning of the second inning, he thought he was going to lose. Our boys were thrilled.

Last night, for our final game, we played the Third-ranked team and again played well. The game was called after 3 innings because of time, with a final score of 8 - 5. I feel that we might have won if we had played all four innings.

The boys have improved tremendously this season and a bond has really developed between the parents and these children. When you sit in the stands, week after week, rooting and yelling for these children, you begin to really care about them. Each one wins a special place in your heart - their individual strengths and challenges so obvious and yet, we watch them, week after week, battling to do better and overcome those weaknesses. How could you NOT fall in love with these children?

I'm going to miss some of the parents, as well. Several of them have become very special to me and I look forward to seeing them at games. Dane keeps saying that he'll be on the same team again next year, but I'm not sure that's possible. Kids get older and have to change leagues. Next year, Dane will be on a coach-picked team where he's required to try out. The son of our coach this year will be in the same league again next year, so Dane will be moving up and he won't. But, hopefully, some of the parents will still be around in the future.

All-in-all, it was a great season for Dane. He grew tremendously and is becoming quite an accomplished baseball player. He's slept, eat, breathed baseball for the last 5 weeks. But I'm glad to be through it. The evening games can get a little old and wear you down.

We still have the end of Daelyn's season to get through. His last practice is tonight, final game is Friday. Dane's end-of-season party is Saturday night, then we'll be able to reclaim our evenings as a family.

Summer vacation sure has been busy. I'm ready for a little less vacationing and more summering.

Maybe next week.

Together once again

We had a wonderful time at Carowinds. We spent the morning doing rides, then went back to the van around 1:30 (which was parked in the second space at the beginning of a row very near the rear entrance), had snacks and our fill of drinks, changed into our bathing suits, then headed to the water park. We played in several different pools, did the lazy-river current pool three times, played in two different water playground areas, then found a small waterslide that you go down on floats. We did that several times, then I began to feel guilty about having left Don for hours, so we met back up with him. Don is not a water person, so he kept our clothes, shoes and socks, and towels while the children and I played.

After dropping off Deanna and Daelyn with Don and making plans for a rendezvous when the water park closed at 7 p.m., Dane and I headed to do some of the high tubes. We did two different ones that were about 8 stories high and enclosed on inner tubes (very dark - they did put pinlights in a few areas of the PVC, though, so you could see small sections as you catapulted down the pipe), then moved to a different one that was open and you did it on a raft that helf 4 people at a time.

We hooked back up with Dane and the other kids, put our clothes back on, and had dinner. By then, it was dark, and we ran to some last-minute rides to get our money's worth before Carowinds closed at 10 p.m. At 10:30, we were just pulling out of the parking lot. We had pillows and a couple of blankets for the kids, so we settled them down to sleep. I insisted that Dane and Daelyn put on their pajamas to make it easier to transfer them to their beds when we got home. I dozed on and off. We got home about 1:30 (Don made really good time) and decided to leave the unpacking for Sunday, except for the cooler and pillows. We headed Deanna and Dane inside through the front door, which Don had unlocked. Then I caught Daelyn wandering through the driveway towards the backyard.

"Daelyn, go to the front," I called to him. No response. "The front door, Daelyn. Daelyn, go to the front door. The front door, son, this way. Daelyn!" He continued to wander towards the backyard. I finally managed to get him turned around, then went back to the van for some more pillows.

When I walked in the house, Don met me. "We seem to have lost Daelyn," he said.

"What do you mean, 'lost Daelyn'," I asked.

"He never showed up in the house," Don responded.

I felt panic begin to rise. "You check the back, I'll check the front," I yelled before tearing out the front door. Don and I met in the middle of the driveway. He shook his head. I ran around the front, looking up the sidewalk. As tired as Daelyn was, he could very well have ended up at Grandma's house. I didn't see anyone, so we began furiously searching the house. I found Daelyn on the leather couch in the Den, face down, half his body dangling off the edge.

"Son," I tried to speak softly, "you need to go get in your bed."

"Hmphf," Daelyn mumbled. I gave up, picking him up gently and carrying him to his bed. Dane was already tucked in, snoring. Deanna was heading down the hall from the bathroom to her bedroom. I could hear Don in the kitchen.

We got everyone settled down, then I went in Deanna's room to pray over her. As I perched on the edge of her bed, all the emotions of the previous week, missing my little girl, bubbled up to the surface.

"Thank you, Lord, for bringing my daughter home safely," I breathed softly. Deanna rolled over, her beautiful green eyes looking up at me lazily.

"I'm glad I'm home, too, Mama." She smiled at me.

Ah-h-h-h. All is right in the world. Deanna's home and cuddled in her bed. Daelyn, the lost sheep, is found and bedded down. Dane, the stable one, is snoring softly. I can hear Don moving in our bedroom. My family is once again together and I'm grateful to the Lord for in-law's that love my children enough to keep them for a week and for birthday celebrations at Carowinds. Mostly, though, I'm thankful for three wonderful children and a devoted husband and father to my children. Regardless of how much fun we have, the most fun part is being together.

As we were pulling out of the Carowinds parking lot, I asked Dane, "What was your favorite part of the day?"

"The water tubes," he responded. Then, he quietly added, "But most of all, being with my family."

I second that emotion.

We miss Sis

Tomorrow we pick up our Sissy-poo and head to Carowinds for a day. This is Dane's birthday present. He wanted to go to Carowinds in lieu of a party and presents.

We've really missed Deanna, as usual. I keep looking around, trying to find my third child. This must be how a mother feels when one of her kids leaves home for the first time - lying awake, unconsciously waiting for the last child to come home.

When we've gone to the pool, I keep looking for that other child. Don and I had a disagreement last weekend because I wanted to take his new car on our date, but we needed to drop the boys off at a birthday pool party and take Dane's friend home. Don wasn't clearly saying no or giving any reason, but he kept avoiding the question. Once we finally got on our date, he said he didn't want to take his car because we couldn't all fit. I asked him how he figured that. We bought the car for our whole family. We had Dane's friend with us, in Deanna's place. How could we possibly all not fit.

"Oh," he responded dully. "I forgot Deanna's not with us." I understood well.

On another front, while Dane's friend was over, they decided to practice baseball - pitching to each other and hitting. They were in the lower part of our yard, far too near our neighbor whose house sits sideways at the end of our street. I scooted them further up the yard, where the common backyards open up to a huge, wide area, perfect for batting.

Dane and his friend appeared in my bathroom later where I was doing my hair and makeup for Don's and my date.

"Mama," Dane started, "something bad happened. There was an accident."

Me, trying hard to control my panic: "What happened, son?"

Dane: "We were playing baseball and we hit the ball ..." he trailed off.

Me: "Where, son," trying hard not to scream the words, "where did you hit the ball to?"

Dane: "Well (in his slow, southern drawl), we hit Daddy's new car!"

Me: "What?!!! Daddy's new car?"

Other Boy: "He pitched it right down the middle."

Dane: "It broke a light."

Me: "A light where? On Daddy's new car?"

Other Boy: "It was right down the middle."

Dane: "But the light's still there, Mom."

Me: "What are you talking about? What did you hit?"

Other Boy: "The middle. Right down the middle."

The long and short of it is the backup light on Don's day-old car got hit and broken. The bulb was still intact, but the top of the red cover was broken off. Don taped it up good with clear packing tape, concerned that rain would get inside the cover and short out the electrical system. We sure don't want to have to mess with electrical problems. We'll have to get the cover replaced at some point. In the meanwhile, the car works, you can't tell the top of the cover over the back light is broken, and Dane had a wonderful time with his friend.

Lots of news for Deanna when she gets home. Thank God she's coming home.

Saucy Sauce

We use quite a bit of barbecue sauce. The kids like their nuggets dipped in it, we have barbecued chicken occasionally, and often they just want to use it for dipping other things. Any meat that is a little dry, barbecue sauce is the answer.

We've become connoisseurs of barbecue sauces. We've tried all the different flavors of Kraft, K.C. Masterpiece, and every other brand on the market, including local, off-brands. Our favorite, hands down, is Jack Daniels. We like it so much that we even use the Jack Daniels marinade when we have steak.

One night while out having dinner, Dane decided his meat was dry and he needed a little barbecue sauce. Typically, Don or I order for the children, but we're giving them a little more leeway to teach them how to talk to a service person. Deanna, for instance, will ask for refills of her drink herself.

We gave Dane permission to ask the waiter for sauce. When the waiter returned, Dane said, "Some Jack Daniels should would taste good with this meal!"

Don and I quickly looked over our shoulders for any diners sporting Department of Family and Children's Services badges or policemen in uniform. Apparently, Dane needs a little more work.

Looking into the Soul of our Home

It's amazing how much clean windows in a room can make the whole room feel cleaner and more upbeat. I have a friend who's very determined about keeping her windows clean. She literally cleans certain ones several times a week. I'm not determined about very much when it comes to housecleaning. But, last night during dinner, I noticed how bad the windows in our breakfast nook looked. We have windows on two sides of the room, ceiling to floor, that were covered with dog slobber, fingerprints, and other unknown messy stuff. I felt determination creeping in.

This morning, I got out the Windex and went to work. I was surprised to find how much of the junk is on the outside - even some of the dog slobber (at least on the storm door - the windows are a little high off the ground for our 17" puppy). But they look hugely better, and I feel better.

Getting some of the deep-down dirt off made me realize just how much more needs to be done. All the walls in the kitchen need scrubbing, the baseboards (of course - I always do the baseboards when I wash the floors), tops of the window frames, etc. Deep-down cleaning. The whole house needs this kind of attention.

I have resolved to get a lot of this kind of work done this summer. The children are home. There's no reason why they can't each tackle 2-3 chores each day for Mom. All three of them could clean windows. Even Daelyn's old enough to wipe down baseboards, once I teach him what they are. Deanna or Dane could stand on a stool and wipe down the tops of doorways and window frames.

And there's more - oh, so much more. Determination continues to creep in. If I can just keep it there, balanced against discouragement, I might be able to get some good work done between our vacations this summer.

Hurray for Summer!! Now I'm going to go sit in the breakfast nook, look out my clean windows, and watch the birds feed while I drink a cup of coffee. Ah!! Clean windows.

Rain and Cars

There were 14 messages on our answering machine when we got home from West Virginia yesterday. Several were about baseball and t-ball games and practices being cancelled. Apparently, as soon as we left the state, it began raining and rained nightly for several nights. This morning we had a downpour, also.

The children noticed as we were driving into the driveway that the grass was green instead of dead and brown. I was not surprised. I've fertilized and watered faithfully, since only stickers seem to grow when the grass gets too dry and then our children get hurt playing in their own backyard.

But the entire neighborhood was green and lush. Something drastic had to have happened. Then I heard the messages on the answering machine and talked to my father, who filled me in on the rainfall. Lucious, beautiful, wet rain. We've seen very little since coming home from England - precious little.

There was also a message from a used car dealership that's been trying to help us find a used 5-speed, 4-door miracle. It seems that a 4-door, 5-speed in a used vehicle is something of a miracle in and of itself. Add to that what we're willing to pay, the required gas mileage, and the interior size for our family of 5 and luggage - this task was nothing short of miraculous.

We've looked at several, but have yet to find the right fit for us. I eagerly called the dealership back. Don says the manager must be very determined to meet his quota this month, because he had three and, possibly, four vehicles to us to look at. We drove by last night, on the way to Dane's birthday dinner after his basebal game, to look at them. The shop was closed, but the manager said he'd park them right out front for us.

I was impressed with both. One has 45,000 miles, the other 58,000. They're both in excellent shape - one is a Mazda sportster with spoiler and mag wheels. The other has a sunroof. Now, lest you think I think these things matter, let me reassure you. I'd just as soon pay less and get less vamp. In any case, both looked like great possibilities.

We've got to go over this morning and test drive them, then talk dollars and cents. I'm very hopeful we can come to a deal that pleases us. We've certainly been looking for long enough.

I can hear furniture just calling to me. Hold on!! I'm coming. I should be there very soon.

Distorted music

Been out of town at Don's parents in West Virginia. We left Deanna behind for her week with them. Dane will go for the first time later this summer.

Before leaving in the wee hours of the morning Saturday, we took the kids out to dinner Friday night. Dane's team mom gave each player three Wendy's coupons for $2 off, so we took advantage of them Friday.

While sitting in the restaurant munching on a burger and fries, Deanna began fussing about the music - soft jazz.

"This music is terrible. Somebody should tell them. I can't stand this music. They need to change the station. Mama, would you ask them to change the station?"

Daelyn: "It sounds like the music off Mr. Roger's neighborhood."

Deanna: "I should have brought my MP-3 player."

Don: "Why? You only listen to the same 10 songs over and over again."

Deanna: "I know!"

Me: "10 songs? Why do you only listen to 10 songs? I know you have more than that on your MP-3 player. What about 'Phantom of the Opera'?"

Deanna: "I don't like to listen to 'Phantom of the Opera' unless I can dance."

Me: "What does dancing have to do with the 'Phantom of the Opera'?"

Deanna: "Well, 'Phantom' is dance music and, if I can't dance, I don't want to listen to it."



Soft jazz is Mr. Roger's music and 'Phantom' is dance music. Next they'll be telling me the theme from "Jaws" is a Mozart Symphony.

Can you say "musically-challenged"?

Bet You Can't Beat This One!

Last month, I tried desperately to order a modest bathing suit for Deanna. The stores had very little to choose from and most options were tankinis, which I won't let Deanna wear.

I ordered one from Sears and one from Penney's. I always try to make sure the children have two suits since we swim often. I like a nice one for the pool and a not-so-expensive or nice one for the lake, since whatever we wear in the lake ends up stained with Georgia red clay.

The first arrived. Deanna loved it. It was white with pale blue and turquoise flowers, a ruffle on the top and a matching skirt with a ruffle. It was darling, but too small. The second one arrived. Deanna hated it. Too plain. One solid color with no detail except a small appliqued heart in green and green straps. No go, she said. Send it back.

I finally found a nice Speedo for her at a sports store and set out on Wednesday to return at least one of the suits to the local store, which I was sure would save me time since I wouldn't have to go to the Post Office and repackage the thing. Penney's gladly took the darling suit back and then asked if I wanted one in a larger size.

"There aren't any larger," I explained. "I already checked on line."

"My computer shows us as being able to order a larger size," the saleswoman said.

Shocked beyond belief, I quickly ordered a larger, pleased as punch with myself. It was such a darling suit and I couldn't wait to see Deanna sporting it.

Yesterday, I got the confirmation e-mail for the larger size. Still unbelieving, I went to the website and looked it up. No larger sizes in the darling suit. I cut and pasted the item # from the confirmation and, voila, a horribly ugly suit shows up on my computer. Frantic, I called the 1-800 number for the store.

I explained that the suit they ordered for me was not the suit I returned. I hated the suit they ordered. Did the change the item #? What gives here?

Suddenly, while talking with them, the sad truth struck me. I had returned the darling suit to Penney's. But the darling suit had been purchased from Sears. The ugly suit came from Penney's.

Good grief. How could I have done such a thing. And how could they have accepted merchandise for return that wasn't even theirs? I quickly asked the operator if she could stop the order.

"Sorry, but no. This suit in a larger size has already shipped."

Double good grief. Not only was I out the money for the darling suit because I couldn't return it to the store where it had come from, but I had bought and paid for yet another ugly suit.

UGH! The woman on the phone encouraged me to call the store quickly. Perhaps they still had the darling suit and I could exchange it for the ugly suit that had come from there. Then I could return the cute suit to Sears and would just have one more return to take care of when the second ugly suit arrived by mail.

I got the local store on the phone and recognized the accent of the woman to be the same one who had helped me at the store. I explained my mistake. She laughed and admitted that this was a first for her, but that she still had the darling little suit. She had noticed after I left that it had a prominently displayed "Sears" tag.

It took me two hours today to switch the two suits and return the darling one before I screwed up anything else. Sears had great difficulty accepting the return.

Little did they know how much trouble I had returning it.

Bronchitis Woes Revisited

I had to go back to see the doctor again today. Another chapter in the never-ending-saga of bronchitis.

In addition to bronchitis, I now am wheezing and my asthma seems to have kicked in.

We leave Friday night for Grandma and Grandpa Doughty's house. Maybe I'll be able to rest and recuperate there. It sure isn't happening here.

But, in the meanwhile, I have to pack and prepare for the trip.

I'll keep my rescue inhaler in my hand whilst I make up the beds and switch laundry loads.

Moving along . . . with no time to rest

Dane's baseball team won their first game tonight, 4 to 3. Up until this game, their closest game was 8 - 0.

We realized at their first game that they needed to be able to hit to get runs. No one at this age seems to really be able to field, but if they have good batters, they get kids on base which, eventually, leads to runs. Our hitting has improved dramatically with each passing game.

Tonight, it became very obvious that we need to be able to catch the ball, too. While hitting is critical, we can only stop the other team if we can catch and throw. Runs on our part are wonderful, but the other team will get more runs than us if we can't stop them before their bring their runners home.

I want to just bask in our first win, but I recognize that there's always more work. An analogy for life.

So, my gloating is very short-lived as I think about how much we still have left to accomplish - in baseball as in every other area of my life.

School's out . . . fun's in!!

The last day of school always begins with a full-school assembly. Parents are invited because children and volunteers receive awards at the Assembly. I got a Certificate of Appreciation for substituting this year. Deanna and Dane both got awards for memorizing the monthly scripture all 9 months of the school year. Then we were dismissed to the elementary classrooms where the children each received an award from their teachers. Dane's virtue was Meekness and Deanna's was Determination. That about sums up my two older children. Daelyn's will most likely be Tenacity next year.

School dismissed at 11:50 for the summer. I went straight from the classroom awards to the yard sale my friend was having that I was participating in. We shut down there at 3:00, Don and the boys came over, we loaded up a recliner of ours that we're selling out of the den so we can fit our new couch in tomorrow and delivered it to the buyer, then came home for an hour before Daelyn's baseball game at 5:00. Then it's off to Chuck E. Cheese to celebrate the end of school!!

The Headmaster talked to parents and students today at assembly about the beginning of summer and the Gospel reading for the day. He asked the kids if they were happy about being out of school for three months. Loud screams of "yes". Then he asked the parents the same question. Loud screams of "no" except, of course, from me.

I can't wait to get a start on summer with my children. I wait all year round for summer vacation and having time to relax with my children.

Summer's in session - let the fun begin!!

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.