Praising God

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My children are sick so I have been running around like a chicken with her head cut off: washing blankets/towels, maneuvering those of my children who AREN'T sick to stay away from those who ARE, cleaning and scrubbing all germs out of the house, and listening to, "Mommy, I'm thirsty!", "Mommy, I'm hungry"..."But you can't eat or you'll throw it up."..."But Mommy, I'm HUNGRY!!!", "Mommy, I made it to the toilet, aren't you proud of me?"

Of all the things in the world to be proud of my kids for, throwing up in the toilet is topping the list today.

Anyway, because my kids have been sick, some of them have been "sad". I had the following conversation with my eldest daughter this morning.

Honor: "You can't praise God when you're sad."

Mommy: "Sure you can."

Honor: "Yes, but when you praise God, you can't be sad."

Mommy: "You have a point. The surest way to stop being sad is to praise God. You can't remain sad long when you are focused on how great God is."

Honor: "Yeah, like me. That's why I'm so happy!"

What a blessing to hear such words from a 5 year old's mouth!!!

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Candy Gram

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There's an old SNL skit where a "land shark" knocks on the door of an apartment building trying different ways to get into the home of a woman so that he can eat her. I think the writers of that skit had visions of an unborn Samuel when they created that...

We lock Samuel into his room at night so that he is unable to get up in the morning before we do and get into things he shouldn't. He is generally our "alarm clock". Promptly at 6:30 every morning, I hear a little voice yelling, "Mommy" sweetly from the other room. I let him call for a few more minutes before I get up to eat breakfast. I do not get him up because I have to go outside to do my chores...he cannot get out until Daddy is ready to get up and watch him. So during breakfast, I usually hear something like this:

In a super sweet voice, "Mooooommmmmmy, I have something to teeeelllllll you."
4 times

In a very sweet voice, "Mooommmmyyy, I have something to show you."
4 times

In a sweet voice, "Mooommmyyy, I have something special for you."
3 times

In a normal voice, "Mommy, I want to get up."
5 times

In a pitiful whine, "Mommy, I want to get up!"
3 times

In an even more pitiful wail, "Moooooooommmmmmyyyyy!!!!!"
4 times

It's a good thing I have to go do chores or I might be tempted to open the door for that one. But he's not done...

Quiet.

In a super sweet voice, "Daddy, I want to tell you something!"
...
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Um...You're Welcome?

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Last Saturday we had Connor and Ariana's biological aunt and cousins out for a visit. We had a wonderful time. It is so nice to see how well the kids play with their cousins (we call all of the kids cousins and consider Aunt Melissa aunt to all of the kids--we make no distinction--we "adopted" them into our family too).

Anyway...Connor doesn't see his Aunt Melissa very often so of course he felt the need to test her authority--standard procedure with that one. I knew it was coming. Aunt Melissa asked him specifically not to blow bubbles in his cousin's face. She came inside and we watched as less than a minute later he blew bubbles in his cousin's ear.

This required a "talk in the bathroom".

"But I didn't blow it in her face...I blew it in her ear!" he wailed.

Nice try.

After we had our talk...in sign language...Connor looked up at me and said, "see, Mom...I was a big boy. I didn't even cry."

Not sure exactly how to take that, I replied, "Yes, Son. Now, go out and tell Aunt Melissa you are sorry for disobeying her."

"Okay, Mommy."

As he left the bathroom, he turned around and said, "Thank you for spanking me, Mommy."

Daddy, Aunt Melissa and I all looked at each other in surprise, then burst out laughing.

I never know what is going to come out of that boy's mouth!

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Don't Eat Me!!

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Overheard this evening as Daddy was putting Samuel in his pajamas:

"Grrrr...."

"No Daddy! Don't eat me! I'm not chicken!"

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Creation Days

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We were singing the Creation Song at breakfast time today...

"On the FIRST day...God created day and night, day and night, day and night. God created day and night, God saw that they were GOOOOOOOOD!".... "On the SEVENTH day...God RESTED."

Honor: "Yep. And on the 8th day He walked in the garden with Adam and Eve."

Mommy: "Yep."

Honor: "and on the 9th day...they had to work!"

Mommy chuckled: "Maybe...we don't know how long it was before they sinned."

Honor: "and on the 10th day...they prayed and God gave them clothes."

...she makes me smile.

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Insightful

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During lunch today, we watched a tv show that was singing songs about Gideon. The chorus repeated the words, "Good, ol' Gideon...." over and over again and then talked about how he was a warrior, etc. This was the conversation that Connor and I had after the song was over.

Connor: "Gideon was in the Bible. He was real."

Mommy: "Yep."

Connor: "But he's dust now, right?"

Mommy, chuckling because the other day we were talking about how many of the things that were around in Bible times are decomposed and have turned to dust...he is so intuitive!: "Yep."

Connor: "He was a good man, Mom."

Mommy: "Yes he was, Son."

Connor: "And old..."

Mommy: "Um...I suppose he eventually got old before he died."

Connor: "Yeah, because the song said he was good and old."

Very literal, that one.

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"Temporary" Tatoos

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As a special treat for Honor, we allowed her to put on a couple of those stick on tattoos that you wet and stick on your arm. We assumed it would last for a couple of days. It has been three weeks and several baths later and those tattoos are still there! Since we are having 90-100* days here, she has been wearing sleeveless dresses to church. To quote Daddy, "she looks like a biker princess!"

On Sunday during her bath, I complained about how they weren't going away.

Her response:

"They're not going away because they're paper!"

Oh. Yeah. It's the ink ones that wash away...

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Happy Birthday Mommy!

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Yesterday was my birthday (thanks for your mental "Happy Birthday" that I'm sure you all just gave me...). I had a FANTASTIC weekend, but I think my favorite part was the cards from my kids. Here they are: (I am going to put up pictures of the cards and then I will tell you what the kids said was on them below...)











White Card: From Samuel. Can you believe that my husband made my son lie like that?? Neither can I... And such an obvious one at that! My child can say "birthday" just fine!

Purple Card: From Ariana. "That's you, Mommy!" along with a splattering of various letters she can make. Now, if only she would actually put the letters in some sort of order...

Pink Card: From Honor. The inside was way too funny. "Who's in the picture?" I asked. Honor began pointing, "that's Ariana, that's me, that's Connor, that's you, that's Aunt Andrea, and that's Daddy." (I find it interesting that Andrea--who is really a friend and not either of our siblings-- is between me and Daddy, but it's not my drawing...) "Where's Samuel?" I asked. Honor looked up at me sheepishly and replied, "Oh. Samuel. I forgot him." Oh.

Green Card: From Connor. Me reading: "Happy B-Day Mom..." "That's birthday Mommy" I nod my head in complete understanding and continue: "Oh. Okay. Happy Birthday Mom...Um...what's this word, Son?" "That says, 'and you love me'."

Yep. I do.

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I'll NEVER Do THAT!!!

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Everyday before Daddy leaves for work, he hunts me down wherever I am in the house or outside so that he can kiss me goodbye. Today, Honor was outside with me while I was doing my chores when it was time for Daddy to leave. He kissed me, then got in his car and quickly left.

Honor: "Ewww! He kissed you on the lips! I'm never going to kiss anyone on the lips when I grow up!"

Hmmm...I think her husband might take issue with that one...

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Musings From The Road

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California freeways are SCARY. Risky drivers and no shoulders. And motorcycles ride between cars! I could not get off the freeway fast enough!

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One of my favorite things to do while driving on a road trip, is look for new radio stations. On our way to Valencia, I discovered that (at least that particular area) has around 30 Spanish speaking stations, 5 English secular stations and one Christian station. Interesting. I wish I spoke Spanish...

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I saw this really cool bumper sticker and had to share:

Yee Haw...In the Evening

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Wednesday afternoon was a LONG one. Daddy and I had the opportunity to take a trip with some friends to Six Flags Magic Mountain. Since we have 4 children, 6 chickens, 3 cats, 2 ponies, 2 dogs, 2 chinchillas, and a pasture full of borrowed cattle, a two-day trip takes a lot of planning. Thankfully I have the best mother-in-law in the whole world who was willing to stay overnight in our home and oversee everything--with the help of our favorite teenager, Cousin Desiree.

But to make things easier, I prepared the farm before I left.

Grandma was not comfortable with letting the ponies in and out of the pasture, so I took extra long mucking the stalls--in 100* heat--for the ponies' extended stay. From there I moved to the trees, digging up 3 wheelbarrows full of compost and placing it around the base of the trees we had planted a few months ago. From there I went to halter Pip and Gimli for a "walk" in the backyard and a grooming so I could get some sort of fly spray on them before being left in the stalls.

That's where the day got interesting.

The kids had gotten up from their nap at this point so, in an attempt to keep them busy (and water my lawn), I gave them a water ball and told them to have fun in the front yard with Cousin Desiree. Daddy was busy making his own preparations for our vacation by installing security lights on the outside of our house, so when Samuel came over to get help with his shoes, I let go of the ponies' lead ropes to take care of him.

Gimli is never one to miss an opportunity.

As soon as my back was turned and he knew I was distracted, he bolted. But he doesn't like to cause problems by himself. No, he had to get his brother going too. So, where Pip was calmly eating grass, Gimli ran up behind him and bit him on the rear, inciting a game of tag around the house.

"Kids! Get next to the house. NOW!" I screamed as the ponies went galloping around our circular driveway.

Daddy wasn't too gracious as he climbed off his ladder, but between the two of us, we managed to corner them. Once the lead rope was in our hand, the ponies calmly followed us back to the stalls where I tied them to be groomed. Daddy went back up the ladder and the kids went back to the water ball.

I finished grooming Pip and was halfway through Gimli when I noticed the cows were at the fence "talking". Something I didn't know before borrowing cows was that they are actually fairly quiet. They pretty much only moo when something unusual is happening (unlike the neighbor's rooster and donkey who crow and bray at all hours of the day and night!).

It took a minute for me to find the source of their discomfort. Bucky was not inside the fence.

"Um. Daddy. We have a problem. One of the bulls are loose," I shouted in his general direction.

"Come on!" wafted loudly to me from somewhere behind the trees.

"It wasn't my fault! Both gates are shut and bolted!"

And they were.

But there is one section of the pasture by the shop that does not have fencing. Horses and cows are naturally supposed to be afraid of drops (so I'm told) and there is a 2 foot drop onto cement pad behind some tall shelving in that corner. The drop stopped Pip, but not Gimli. He escaped from there on Monday. So Daddy and I found some fencing for the two tallest shelves and piled some semi-truck tires and barrels in the openings of the shorter shelves for a temporary fix, effectively stopping Gimli's escapades.

But not Bucky's.

Sure enough, I looked over and one of the 200 pound tires was lying on the pad.

Now what.

Well, when Gimli is throwing a toddler fit and refuses to come, I grab a bunch of grain, shake it in a cup, and he follows me anywhere. So I tried this with Bucky. The shaking did nothing, so I put some in my hand and let him lick it off.

I could see him thinking about it: 'Hmmm... good, but not as good as these baby cottonwood trees over here. I don't know why the lady person panics everytime I go near one, but boy they taste good.'

"Honey, you need to call Ron--the grain isn't working and he's eating the trees."

Well, Ron was out of town and couldn't help us wrangle up his bull. Daddy was going to try lassoing him--he learned how from his brief interest in roping--but Ron said that wouldn't work. We just have to coral him.

I tried petting him--after all, we were buddies. Didn't he remember cornering me this morning? Nope. Oh, he was willing to allow the scratches, but not enough to leave his own personal grazing land.

Daddy tried talking to him. "Ron said he might come if you call him by name. 'Come here Number 109!'"

No movement. I think he prefers Bucky.

So that left chasing him into the gate. You know...the bull who had no problem pushing over a 200 pound tire and who bucks when cornered...go corner him. I will admit to being intimidated, which frustrated Daddy a bit--I was supposed to act as a human barrier. And then I was in charge of moving the other cows away from the gate to avoid a stampede into our backyard--you know, the other dozen or so 800 pound animals mooing by the fence--move them.

Eventually we got Bucky back into the pasture after wrangling him into the small pre-pasture area, he really had no place to go.

Then I fed and watered the ponies, fed and watered the chicks, fed and watered the cats, and finally, fed and watered my family...at 7:30 at night. After giving the kids a bath and putting them to bed, I still had to pack, shower and find a hotel. I finally finished everything around 10:30 pm and went to bed.

We left Thursday morning at 3 am for a long day of fun in the sun...

But that's another story.

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Yee Haw...In the Morning

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Wednesday was my first real day as a cowgirl. Well, technically the cows aren't ours and we've borrowed them before, but I've never really done anything with them before Wednesday.

It started in the morning. I released Pip and Gim out into the pasture and "Bucky" the bull was waiting by the gate. Now all of our neighbor's cattle have been bottle fed so they are used to people and his bull calves are no exception. So, I decided to give Bucky a little scratch around the horns--they're still coming in, they must itch. Bucky appreciated the scratch and started licking me...like a dog. An 800 pound dog with a really big tongue. And horns--don't forget the horns.

You know how dogs and sometimes cats kind of push up against you when you try to stop petting them as if you are a hired hand whose sole purpose in life is to massage your furry master? Well, apparently bulls think along those lines as well--accept their heads are 3 times bigger...and they have horns. So it wasn't too long before Bucky's big tongue and block head had me backed into a corner. Maybe he wasn't licking me affectionately as much as he was tasting me...

Anyway, I decided that the safest way to pet them from now on was from the other side of the fence.
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