1. Hey peeps! My left toe hurts. In 2010, you never call a doctor first. You Google. Can I get an amen? But, until Google can give shots, prescribe meds, and do physical therapy, I'm still gonna have to go to the doctor's office.
2. People keep asking if our family is better (healthy). Yes...for about 48 hours. And then Jillian got a cold. And now Phoebe has one. That's just how it is these days. Oh well.
3. "What's shakin'??" you ask. Well, currently I'm helping out at the boys' school with costumes for a play that they are not in. If you don't have kids in school yet, let me give you unsolicited advice: Do not let them know that you have ANY skills whatsoever. I don't actually have skills. I did theater in college. I basically taught myself to sew. Now I'm touted as the costume designer. hoo hoo! hee..heh..ha...wha???
4. Remember when I posted the pictures from Christmas Eve? What you didn't see was what Brent and I were wearing. You'll never see what I was wearing because no one took pictures of me (thanks be to God!!). But, this is what the boys picked out for Brent:
This Hefner-ish looking blazer is something that I think was in style when I was in high school. I can't be sure, but I know I bought it from the Limited. It's just so hard to believe that this looked cool on me at one time.
Okay. That's a wrap, people. More later. Enjoy being freaked out that it's already February.
We've had a stomach bug going through our family. Phoebe and I have formed an alliance and have avoided getting any of the major sicknesses that have threatened our well-being since mid-October.
Last week my Facebook status described a phenomenal five minutes, in which a glass jar of marinara exploded in our kitchen. It didn't fail to splatter our white walls or land in shoes and briefcases. It was amazing. Ninety seconds into cleaning that up, I heard a cough behind me. Mind you, it was 10:30 p.m. Our oldest had thrown up IN HIS SLEEP. He was covered in the puke version of tomato bisque. (The bisque has been taken off the rotation until next winter, I can assure you.) This meant that there was a twin-sized mattress amount of vomit waiting for us in his room. Thanks to my sacrificial husband, I was able to stay focused on the marinara and kid care while he dealt with the real mess.
About a week later, it was Jillian's turn. Because of my volunteer commitments at school, I missed most of her puking spells. (Thank you, Jesus.)
Yesterday, I called Brent at work and it went straight to voicemail. Hm. "...I am ill and will be out indefinitely..." Oh. He stumbled through the door and headed for bed only to eek out in a whisper, "pajamas."
A few hours later, the boys came home from school. Avery announced that Miles was sick. Miles insisted, "I'm not sick. I don't have a temperature." To which I asked, "Do you feel achy?" "yes." "Does your stomach hurt?" "yes." hm. "You're sick, Miles." He didn't say much, but I won that argument when I found him hurling on the carpet an hour later. Good thing we STILL haven't replaced the orange, commercial-grade carpet from 1962 in the family room. I just had to ask, "Did you eat your carrots at lunch." Clueless of the irony, he answered, "yes."
"I know," I said as I cleaned up the puke version of carrots.
One of the perks of puking in our family, is the refreshment of Gatorade. We had one 32 ounce bottle. Liquid gold, you could call it. Jillian found it and poured half onto the floor. (You can pick her up at the pound.)
i'm kidding.
Avery thought this was a good time to ask, "Can I have some Gatorade?" "No." "But, I didn't get any when I was sick." "That's because we didn't have any."
rummage, rummage, rummage.
His search paid off. He found a who-knows-how-old package of MIXADE (that's right. the generic of Kool-aid...because real Kool-aid is so expensive, right?) "Can you make this?" "Fine." So Mixade became the backpay for lack of Gatorade. Jillian found that this morning and poured half of the Mixade on the floor.
It was PBS or the pound for Jillian. I chose PBS. I guess Jesus DOES love her...
Oftentimes, parents have to say things that they never really anticipated. One of my favorite quotes (not mine) was, "No, we do NOT color marker on our privates."
Today's, wasn't quite as hilarious. Just unanticipated.
Me to Jillian during our tea party: "Can I bring my real coffee and pretend it's pretend?"
There's a ton, but if I try to remember them, I'll never get to posting this. And, really, I want to hear yours!!!
The past two days I've been thinking about heaven in terms of what won't be around the corner.
I have four healthy children...today. I have no cancer (that I know of)...today. My bills are paid...today. But, people, I'm quite honestly afraid of what can happen in this life.
I get sovereignty. I understand there is design in trials. I know that trials shake us like you'd shake off a welcome mat to get the dirt out. I need to be shaken...I know that. But grief and pain totally suck and I don't look forward to it. I'm afraid of fiery trials and deep waters.
They will come. He will carry me.
I'm just thinking about how awesome it will be in heaven where trials and fear are far, far behind.
I updated that blog that gets no lovin' from me. Why did I ever think I could maintain more than one blog??? Oh well. If I post six times a year on the sewing blog, I'll consider its purpose served.
Oh! And Happy New Year!!! Any resolutions out there? I think my resolution is to change the resolution on my digital camera.
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