Back to School

A few weeks back at a church function, a family friend bent down to Judah level and asked, “So, is your mom excited that you’ll be starting Kindergarten soon?”

Judah looked up very solemnly and replied, “Nooooo…she’s gonna miss me when I’m at school!”

And he was right! The house feels pretty hollow and empty with all my guys off to school today after several weeks of togetherness that was our summer break.

Our day began bright and early at 5:45 this morning. We got the whole family up and ready because we wanted to take pictures of the big first-day-of-school event. Jericho began his Freshman year of high school this morning, Jeff returned to teaching at middle school and Judah just got dropped off at his afternoon Kindergarten class.

I knew it was coming, but I still felt a bit surprised when I found myself back in the kitchen last evening preparing school lunches.

Here we were first thing this morning.

For the record, Jericho is actually taller than me now, but I was wearing heeled sandals.

A friend from church, Cassie, a senior at Jericho’s school, had offered to pick him up for his first day and show him around campus.

A senior with her own car? Are you even kidding? He was thrilled and immediately jumped on the opportunity.

It was a bright, bright sunshiny day.

Hmmmmph. I guess now that he’s a big kid he’s too ‘cool’ to have his mom trailing him around with her camera on the first day. Whatev.

Then they drove away…and that was that. My baby is now a Freshman. **sniff, sniff**

Jeff left moments later for his first day activities, and had a couple of tricks up his sleeve.

Literal tricks. With the help of some props and some things he recently learned from an illusionist, he intends to really wow his students on their first day.

Really, I think he’s just glad to have several more audiences to practice said tricks in front of before the wedding he learned them for this Saturday.

The wedding he will be officiating.

The tricks he will be performing in lieu of the traditional unity candle.

It seems that lately, every time I turned around, there was Jeff with props in hand, practicing those tricks again.

I think he’s got it down. It will impress his students for sure.

Anyway, once daddy and Jericho were gone, Judah had approximately four hours to kill.

But do you think I could talk him into going back to bed for even part of that time?

Negative.

First it was, “Take a pitcher (his pronunciation) of me with my lunch pack!”

Then it was, “Take a pitcher of me with my pack-pack.”

Then it was 3 blessed hours and 45 long minutes of him chomping at the bit to go.

“Is it time for Kindergarten yet?”

“WheeEen do we get to GO?”

“Mom, you better check the clock.”

Lying around on the floor whining, “When is it time?”

Finally, with about 20 minutes before grandma was to arrive to see him off on his first day, I sat down to take a couple of pictures of he and I.

Betcha can’t tell he’s excited, huh?

Well, this should seal the deal

Seriously, this was him after he'd been running around like a wild child calling out, “It’s almost tiiiiiime!”

You’d have thought it was Christmas or his birthday or something!

But then, he stopped and climbed up on my lap and asked very soberly, “Mama, are you gonna miss me when I’m gone to Kindergarten?”

“Of course! This house is going to be so quiet without you!” I replied, feeling a little melancholy tug on the heartstrings. **sniff, sniff**

He gave me a big old hug around the neck. “I’ll still be your baby even when I’m all growned up.”

Awwww…little stinker. Guess he knew this was harder for his mom than it was for him.

At long last, grandma arrived.

We piled into the truck and drove to school.

We took a couple of pictures and a little bit of video footage.

Here he sports his new shoes, which upon testing them out in our front yard he breathlessly reported to us, “They make me run so fast the dirt flies up!”

Which was kind of a strange deja vu moment, because Jericho came home from his first day of Kindergarten reporting that his shoes “made him run so fast the wood chips (on the playground) flew up.” **sniff, sniff, sniff.**

These shoes were the closest thing we could find to PF FLyers, which he’s coveted ever since seeing the movie Sandlot.

He looks so little. Like he still needs his mama all day long.

T minus one minute to starting time: Is that a little bit of uncertainty upon my big brave Kindergarteners face?

Nope. Just the sun in his eyes.

At last, he eagerly and confidently jumped in line, I told him to obey all the rules, he smiled and then his teacher walked the little procession into her classroom.

At the last minute, just when I thought it would go into his class without a backward glance, my baby turned around and called out, “See ya later, mom.”

The photo was a bit blurry, but that’s okay, because I think my eyes were, too.

And that was that. My baby is now a Kindergartener. **sniff, sniff**

Tales Of A Rambunctious Almost-Kindergartener

I bought a little doll house hutch at Michaels several months ago with a particular wall-hanging idea in mind for my craft room.

However, like many of my 'projects', there are usually a few stages to the process, and this one needs a coat of primer as it's first step.

While I was working on my entries for the fair this year earlier this Spring, Judah would keep me company in my craft room which was where he first discovered that little hutch, and for weeks afterward I would find it in various places throughout the house, Judah having incorporated it into his play.

After rearranging my hutch for Easter, for instance, I turned around and found this, and upon closer inspection, I learned why

Apparently hutches make really great manly cases for guns and ammo.

:: :: :: ::

Judah has observed things around here for long enough to know that if I need to remember something really important, I stick a post-it note reminder somewhere I know I'll see it first thing in the morning.

Bright pink and green post-its can be found around my house at any given time with reminders or notes from Jeff, usually on my fridge, my bathroom mirror or my desk.

And recently, after asking me what they all said, I found this attached to my desk.

Awww... a love note from Judah.

Not sure what it says, exactly...as he's only just gotten a handle on writing his name and all the letters of the alphabet, but it was the thought that counts.

I sure do love that boy.

:: :: :: ::

Jeff's oldest brother-in-law has been living in a Veteran's home for the past couple of years. He has had kidney failure for many years, and requires routine dialysis and other careful monitoring of his health.

Recently, he was moved to the hospital due to a serious blood infection that nearly did him in. Being on dialysis puts a person in a high risk category for these things, and there have been several occasions in which we've nearly lost him, but by God's grace he's pulled through.

Last month, I had just returned from a weekend getaway with my college roomies when we learned from Jeff's sister that he was in a coma.

She was sick and dealing with some serious health issues of her own, and unable to get any clear answers to her many questions from the overworked staff there, so we offered to go to the hospital on her behalf to get a better picture of what was going on and to pray over him while we were there.

We arrived at the hospital in a rather somber state, thinking it might be the very last time we saw him. To our absolute astonishment, he could be heard talking to one of the nurses as we walked down the hallway towards his room, having just come out of the coma. He was still very ill, but once again the Lord had spared his life.

After our visit, we walked through the beautifully landscaped grounds around the hospital to where we'd parked our truck.

Our desert-dwelling sons were enthralled by the bunnies as well as the ducks and geese which could be seen meandering the green lawns.

We saw several mama geese with their little rows of goslings swimming in the various ponds we passed, as well as a duck with her fuzzy little ducklings in tow. So cute.

This was a photo I took on my cell phone, trying to capture this scene, where the mother goose had just gotten up off her nest (by the pipe works on the left) for a bite to eat.

As Jeff and I stood marveling at our brother-in-law's recovery, the kids were gazing at all the wildlife in this serene environment, and Judah suddenly darted off across the lawn in pursuit of the goose. Usually they just run from him, and he enjoys the thrill of the chase.

But this time, just as I was about to warn him, "Careful, they'll bite!" he gained on the unsuspecting creature and managed to grab it from behind!

Funniest thing ever!

I tell you, I just never know what that kid is going to do.

I think he was just as surprised as the goose, who suddenly arched it's neck around trying to defend itself, and Judah dropped it and quickly retreated.

It skedaddled off in the opposite direction, incensed.

I only wish I could have captured a picture of what happened next, and the expression that crossed Judah's face when the male goose began to chase him, head bent low, hissing and flapping it's wings at him.

We've never seen Judah's little legs move so fast...nor the look that passed over his face as he glanced over shoulder while running to see if it was gaining on him.

Jericho, too, was forced to run, though he was laughing his head off the entire way.

Boy did we get a good laugh out of that!

:: :: :: ::

Recently, we had to take our boy in for his pre-K physical, after which we had to get the rest of his paperwork into the school for registration.

My husband, who is a Middle School teacher, has a long-running tradition in which he cuts his hair into some crazy style for the last day of school. This is always shaved off before Church the following Sunday.

When Judah learned Jeff's haircut was to be a mohawk, he begged to get one, too.

I agreed, only if he would get it shaved off before Sunday as well.

However, we were invited to a birthday party at the home of one of Jeff's best high school buddies, and Jeff wanted Judah to keep his mohawk just until then so his friend could see it.

Which meant two weeks of church services in which Judah sported that hideous haircut. **cringes**

As a mom, I've always tried to stress with my boys from an early age that they will be taken more seriously, look more respectable and, when older, be much more employable if they are clean-cut.

Mohawks totally go against my grain.

Anyway, he was also sporting this same haircut on the day we went to the doctor, along with a host of scratches from our puppy and scabbed over knees and elbows because of his newish bike.

I felt like his newly assigned doctor, who we'd never seen before, would get a rather inaccurate first impression of him as some little thug-ruffian, and stressed on the way there that he needed to be very polite and answer all the doctor's questions.

Unfortunately, he'd not been anticipating having to undress and put on the hospital gown, and that immediately got his nose out of joint (figuratively speaking, anyway).

He was particularly mad that I had to tie a bow in the back.

"I look like a GIRL with that dumb bow!" Clearly not a happy camper.

I knew then it would probably be a good idea if I just kept to myself the fact that his Star Wars underwear were peeking out the back of the gown.

The hairstyle was already a strike against him as far as first impressions go. We didn't need a meltdown to go along with it.

Later, as we turned in all his registration paperwork, he could barely contain his excitement when the lady in the office said, "Well, Judah, you are now officially a Kindergartener!"

Once again, however, his disposition changed when he learned it would be weeks before school started.

**sigh**

At least he's excited about starting school.

He's just sure it's going to be all fun and games, because big brother 'gets' to go, and he's just sure he's been missing out all this time.

And for now, I think we're just gonna roll with that.

:: :: :: ::

I know it's probably hard to believe (after some of the stories I've recounted about Judah here) that Judah is usually a polite, obedient and well-behaved kid. Not perfect by any stretch of the imagination, but he makes friends everywhere he goes, gets along well with others, and I often get compliments for his good behavior and his manners in public.

It's taken a lot of training to get him to this point, and of course there are still the occasional times in which he throws caution to the wind and does crazy stuff out of the blue, but for the most part he's a well-behaved, if rambunctious, little boy.

Nevertheless, to keep things real, I'm recounting for posterity the following tale:

We've been having a little problem around here lately with Judah taking things that don't belong to him.

His grandma's old cell phone which had been recently replaced with an upgrade (which I didn't recognize and thought he'd stolen from one of the youth group kids recently at our home for a party) was recently found stashed under his bed, along with a bunch of coveted Lego sets and Star Wars figurines which Judah had gone pillaging through his brother's bedroom for while big brother was gone to football practice.

He'd been disciplined repeatedly for this behavior and we thought we had a handle on it up until this latest incident.

Yesterday he came up to me and asked, "So when do I have to apologize to grandma for stealing the cell phone from her?" This was one of the terms of his discipline, along with grandma's enlistment to read him the riot act when he does.

I replied gravely, "Probably tonight. You do know, she's going to be veeeeerrry disappointed that you stole from her. Daddy and I are very disappointed that you stole from her... and from your brother. Stealing is a SIN, Judah. Sins are what put Jesus on the cross. It makes us very sad that you continue to steal and sin when you know that it's wrong."

Of course I said all these things with a grave tone to my voice, and he was squirming and avoiding eye contact, switching from foot to foot as he stood in the kitchen where the conversation took place.

This may sound overly harsh to some, but I was doing my best to use the opportunity to put things at his level of understanding, and incorporating in some other things he'd been learning recently from the Bible and Character training stories we read to him at night.

Instead of being repentant, however, he tried to use the feeble defense, "People do it."

To which I replied very soberly, "Stealing is a very bad thing to do. And just because other people do it doesn't mean it's okay for you to. Any which way you try and look at it, stealing is a sin!"

Then, I dug out the old tried and true reasoning of generations of parents in my family, "If everybody ran and jumped off a really high bridge would YOU do it?"

I mistakenly assumed this would bring to mind the big bridge we'd seen from the freeway a couple of days before and marveled at how high it was and that it had to have a high fence along both sides because if a person fell off, they'd die.

However, my question had the opposite effect. It stopped him dead in his tracks and his eyes jerked back to mine, "Wait...is jumping off a bridge a sin?"

Epic parenting fail.

I suppose I should have used "cliff" or the "Empire State building" instead, especially so close on the heels of yet another exchange Judah recently had with Jeff:

"What is it called when you tie the rope around your feet and jump off a bridge?"

In an effort to avert catastrophe, Jeff replied, "It's not a rope they use...it's a special kind of stretchy cord...and it's called Bungee jumping."

**Spoken in breathless excitement** "I wanna go bungee jumping...and grab the soda out of the river."

You may recognize this gem of an idea from a soda commercial on TV in recent months.

Marketing agencies and companies, in their bid to incorporate 'extreme' stuff into their commercials to make them extra appealing and 'cool' to the younger generation have no idea what mothers of impressionable 5 year old boys like mine suffer as a result!

I believe Judah files all these ideas away as things he's going to try the moment his mom turns her back. (In fact, I'm thinking that I should probably go gather up all the accessible bungee cords I've seen in the garage and the one used to hold the BBQ cover in place just as a precaution...)

Trying to head off at the pass any of Judah's harebrained ideas, Jeff replied, "No-noo-noo...that's not a good idea."

"Why? It's too dangerous for kids my size?"

Jeff nodded. "It's even too dangerous for me."

With a gleam in his eyes he said, "I can't WAIT to do it when I get big!"

This kind of thing strikes fear into my heart, especially when my sweet, adorable little 5 year old, who it seems was just a baby in my arms last week, informs us with that same gleam in his eyes after the Osama capture, "I wanna be a Navy Seal."

I knew it! I knew his fearlessness and all his daredevil antics were leading up to something like this.

Pray for me.

Recipe For A Nightmare

Tonight, Judah was demonstrating with his toy suction-cup bow and arrow what knights (I'm assuming Medieval) used to do when they would "shoot em into the castle".

A little later, I heard him saying, "I need to get some fire on my arrows..."

Why do I suddenly feel like I should a.) destroy all household matches and b.) sleep with one eye open all night long?

Silly Boy

The other evening, we were driving home late from a day trip. The kids were wiped out in the back seat and Jeff and I were chatting about a situation we know of that has been heavy on our hearts recently.

In reply to something I'd brought up, he said, "That's like that passage that says, 'When your child asks for bread would you give him a Scorpion?'"

He couldn't remember the exact wording of the passage, but the principle was there, and was a perfect analogy for what we were discussing.

From the back seat, Judah says brightly, "I would like a scorpion! For a pet! Or a tarantula."

Oh, mercy.

Poor boy wants a pet of his own so badly.

Perhaps we'll need to be getting him a puppy sooner than we thought.

Somehow, caring for a puppy doesn't seem quite so bad in light of poisonous desert creatures living in our house. With us. With Judah as their caretaker and the ever present possibility of them escaping. Or inflicting injury on members of our household.

I wonder if we could talk him into a Pygmy goat?

Of Mice and Birds

The temperatures in our desert have dropped considerably this past week. We had 90+ temperatures in Early November, and were still getting tomatoes off our vines. But we've dipped into the high 20's at night, and I've actually (finally!) packed up all our summer clothes and flip flops, and have brought out the down comforters so we can all be nice and cozy inside for the winter.

Outside, our beloved dog Raisin has a cozy new bed inside her dog house.

Everyone in our household is snug, warm and ready for winter.

Things would be great...except for one thing.

Birds.

Thieving little birds that think they are entitled to Raisin's food, when it rightfully belongs to her as she is the one who has earned it patrolling the perimeter.

It has gotten to be costly (we currently buying twice the dog food we used to).

It has also gotten to be troublesome to Raisin.

Especially since they have taken to brazenly looting her bowl in broad daylight.

She's taken to lying on her sunny spot bed and keeping watch all day long.

Here she is on full alert status.

She even drug one of the boys toy rifles over to the bowl as a show of force.



It did nothing to deter the birds.

Apparently they are 'onto' the whole meaning of the 'orange tip on toy guns' thing.

They don't seem to worry too much about the dog, either.



"Do you see what I'm dealing with here?", Raisin asks, appalled that things in her little corner of the world have come to this.



But she has not taken this sitting down.

She's finally begun chasing them away with a deep-throated growl.

In fact, she's caught two birds already. And the one mouse.

Yes, our beloved dog has crossed the line from from good citizen dog to serial bird and mouse killer.

When she ran up to Jericho all proud of her conquest with the first bird, he said in disgust, "Get away from me, bird breath!" (In much the same manner as, "Get thee behind me, Satan!")

When we saw that first bird fluttering in Raisin's jowls, I was worried little Judah would be traumatized and warned him to stay back where he couldn't see it.

I wasn't quick enough, however, as he moved to the front of the crowd at our glass sliding door and yelled excitedly, yea even proudly, "She's a hunteen dog now!"

'Round Here Lately...

No doubt everyone remembers their first car.

That old bucket o' bolts that was held together with duct tape and baling wire, and which coasted into gas stations on a wing and a prayer?

Or was that just mine?

**blushes**

In any case, most folks have had at least one vehicle which was utterly humiliating humbling to drive.

But they were your wheels, and you were grateful to have them.

As is the case with Judah's first car.



It's missing a headlight (from trick riding on the hood while operating the pedals inside with his hands). Scared much, mom?

The paint job has been horribly damaged by the desert sun.

And it currently has to be pushed around because the battery refuses to charge as it should and we've not been able to locate a replacement.

But they're his wheels, and he enjoys that car regardless of whether or not it moves on it's own.

Note the bow hanging over the roll bar in front of him.

Doesn't every desert dwelling jeep owner carry one of these at all times?

Judah seems to think so.

I'm just thankful that the arrows are tipped with suction cups, because he was shooting them straight up into the air moments before, letting them fall where they may.

And his expression? That was him saying, "Mo-ohm"...because I had just scolded him with that favorite mom-line, "You'll shoot your eye out, kid!"

:: :: :: ::

I just love when we manage to capture moments like these on the camera.

Both our boys kickin' back on the sofa together...hanging out and enjoying each others company.



What could possibly bring them together in such a peaceful manner?

Mostly the fact that big brother was exhausted after his wrestling tournament earlier and little brother exhausted from watching it.

It might also have had a little something to do with the fact that Toy Story 2 was playing on the TV.

I like to think, however, that the feelings of brotherly love had carried over a bit from earlier that day.

That was when little brother seemed to sense that big brother was nervous about his upcoming match...the third one of the day.

And, thoughtful little brother that he is, seemed to know just what would help.



Sometimes it's not so much that they're there at that pivotal moment in life...but the fact that they care.

That they will love you no matter the outcome.



And that they'll be cheering for you all through your match, pulling for you to win, but loving you anyways even if you don't.

And that they'll be proud-to-busting when you take home the 2nd Place medal for your weight class at the tournament.



Admittedly, it might also have had a little something to do with the fact that big brother shared his Gingerbread shake with you at Red Robin after his big victory. Even if you did eat the lone gingersnap on off the top.



In any case...I like it, and want to see a lot more of it.



"Be kindly affectionate to one another with brotherly love, in honor giving preference to one another." ~ Romans 12:10

A Couple Of Funnies

WooHOO! Tomorrow, I'm to take possession of my 'new' computer! YAY!!

Let the whole slug of new blog posts begin!

**Ahem**

But in the meantime, I had a couple of Judah stories I just had to get down before I forgot them:

I recently took Judah to the bank to open his very own savings account.

This was due in part to the fact that his birthday money was burning a hole in his wallet, and partly because I was tired of finding his Buzz Lightyear wallet in the bottom of my purse with more money in it than I ever seem to have on hand.

So we take it to the bank, and after filling out the appropriate forms and everything, I count out and hand over all his money for the nice lady to deposit into his account.

"We have to give her my money?" he asked, appalled.

He looked up at me as though to say, "Can you rethink this, please?"

"She's going to save it for you," I replied absently, trying to put all the paperwork into my purse where it wouldn't fly away.

On the way out to the van, I realized he was mad. I spent a good part of the trip home trying to convince explain to him how his money would be saved for him there.

Later, I heard him telling dad and big brother all about it, "...and mom made me give all my money to the lady at the bank!"

I guess he's still a little unclear on the concept of a savings account.

One day he'll thank me.

:: :: :: ::

In yet another 'flirting with danger' episode around here, Judah was chattering away at me a couple of days ago, and I responded appropriately with "uh huh" and "really?" and "are you sure about that?" replies...but suddenly stopped short when I heard, "...and if we have gloves on, we can touch the wires!"

WHAT??

I could see his minds wheels turning and knew I must immediately clarify a few important points.

"No, no, no...not just anyone can touch electrical wires. You can only if you are wearing special gloves and using special tools and if you work for an electric company like Uncle Sal and have one of those special cherry-picker trucks. Otherwise, you're not allowed to ever, EVER touch wires!"

I felt it very important to add, "And if you ever touched a wire with bare hands or even with winter gloves on, it would shock you (at which point I demonstrated all dramatically, "Bzzzz-zzz-zzzt", as though I were getting shocked), and could electrocute you! You could DIE!"

He looked up at me with this wicked gleam in his eye and said rather ominously, "I want to be a 'lectric man."

The perceived thrill of touching something that could kill him seems to be a recurring theme with this boy, as evidenced here, here, and here.

You know that tingly, goosebumpy sensation you get just after something scary happens? I'm pretty sure that's the feeling one gets when hair follicles give up the ghost and lose all their pigment.

It's a feeling I seem to experience on an almost daily basis, and the large number of grays I have attest to this fact.

Strange Things Yelled Out The Door Lately...

"Judah, get your horse out of the kitchen!" Referring to the stick-pony he'd been playing Cowboy with earlier that day, which for unknown reasons had been abandoned in the kitchen, it's reins tangled on the pantry door knobs.

"Don't torment the dog!" For so long, Judah was a little short-stuff, and our dog (though zealously protective of him) was not afraid to push him around a bit if so inclined. Now, with the clunky cast on his arm, Judah has learned that the dog moves out of the way real quick if he lifts up that arm.

"No jumping off the fence!" We have a giant roll of chain-link awaiting a project in our back yard, and though the doctor has forbidden athletic physical activity or horseplay, these sorts of things prove irresistible to him. I have also had to yell similar things about the picnic table and the swing at various times in recent weeks, as well as not sliding down our long wood-floored hallway and under the coffee table as though sliding into base in Little League.

"Don't shoot at the dog!" It sounds horrible, of course, but what I'm referring to is the boys' preference for unloading an entire clip of Nerf dart ammo at a moving target.

Poor, long-suffering Raisin usually has to employ zig-zag maneuvers to get away from the annoyance, and usually heads for the back door where she cowers knowing she has a better chance of my noticing and intervening there.

"What are you doing playing outside at 10 PM?" This is in reference to Judah's rather alarming new habit of slipping out of the house even when he's been told to get ready for bed.

Apparently, with the cast on and doctor mandated restrictions, he hasn't burned off enough steam by bedtime and just wants to run.

The fact that it's pitch black outside doesn't seem to phase him in the least.

It never has.

Which totally freaks.me.out.

And this gem, just in tonight...

"WHAT IN THE WORLD are you doing outside in your underwear, in the dark??"

I was straightening up the kitchen when I heard what I thought was the front door closing. Jeff was already long since asleep, having to get up really early to set up for a Cross Country meet at his school in the morning.

I marched over to the door (left ajar), and was stunned to see both boys coming in from dad's car...in their hot-weather, summertime p.j.s (aka underwear/boxers).

After they'd both long since been ordered to bed, mind you.

Apparently, big brother needed something out of his backpack which was left in the car, and though he can stare down a bully any day of the week, he isn't quite so brave as his younger brother when it comes to going outside after dark and had no problem whatsoever persuading his little brother to disobey.

Sooooo, in punishment for this, I did the only surefire thing I could think of...

"That's it! I'm putting this on the blog!" and ran for my camera.

Lucky for them, they both skedaddled quick as could be to their respective rooms and dove into their beds before it came to all that.

A device I plan to utilize more often to get those boys to obey...

A Little Someone Is Having A Birthday...

A couple of evenings ago, after Judah finally fell asleep, I went in to cover him up and found the following paraphernalia scattered throughout his bed:

• a Buzz Lightyear
• R.C. (the Toy Story remote control car)
• a monster truck
• 4 books
• a wolf stuffed animal
• the jeans he plans to wear tomorrow
• 4 socks
• a belt
• two toy pistols (one for water, one for air-soft pellets)
• and a bow complete with suction-cup arrows

This is after his room was found to be sparkling clean when he was tucked into bed for the night.

I suppose this is because a boy can never be too prepared for the next day's activities.

And that's just his bed!

I can't begin to count all the occasions in which I've wakened in the night with a Matchbox car under my hip, or a Batman figurine jabbing my cheek, or a heavy die-cast cowboy pistol connecting with my ankle bone at about 3 am.

While I love that all these things are all evidence of the lively little boy who lives here, sometimes I find that I like to stay up late just so I can kick back and read or crochet or think in a clean house for an hour or two. Because it doesn't last for long.

When you have young kids around the house, it seems you're forever cleaning up toys and other clutter, collecting laundry and wiping hand prints off of switch plates, messes off of counters, and crumbs off the floor and table, not to mention trying to keep the kids clean.

Sometimes you also find things in odd places. Things that make you stop and think, "Now how did this get here?"...and nearly always, in my household at least, the trail leads right back to the same culprit.

The same boy who is responsible for why the flashlight is never in the drawer of my nightstand where I am accustomed to looking for it. This because he was snooping around in there one day and now eagerly looks for opportunities in which he can come in borrow that fantastic invention (usually always resulting in dead batteries, I might add), and the reason why even though I never use it myself, I still put it back in it's home at least 3 or 4 times a week.

The same boy behind why the calculator I use for balancing my checkbook is never on my desk but has been found in the bathroom and various hidey-holes in his bedroom.

And why the DVD remote has wound up in his backpack (because he was using it as his 'phone' while pretending he was an army guy outside).

And why I've found kitchen utensils end up underneath his bed. Why, I ask? What possible use could an almost-5 boy have for a spaghetti grabber or a folding metal steamer basket?

And sometimes, I'll go to look for a hair clip I was certain was last seen in the drawer of my bathroom vanity and find it's not there.

And then I'll find myself thinking that maybe I'm getting forgetful.

And I'll worry about that. Maybe even look up possible nutritional deficiencies or some supplements I should be taking to help with that.

But then, while cleaning up Judah's closet two days later, I'll find said hair clip holding two belts together in what I can only assume was some getup he'd pulled together to hold his bow and arrows close to his person while playing outside, and this because we'd just watched Prince Caspian and he was suddenly into the whole Knight thing again.

Now we're big Narnia and C.S. Lewis fans, and I can totally appreciate the allegoric meanings attached to Aslan in particular.

But when you have a son like I do (who is both daredevil and overly impressionable) you find yourself needing to stay a couple steps ahead of the game. And movies like that conjure up a whole new set of previously un-imagined possibilities in my boys mind.

Things like leaping off or balancing precariously on cliffs and ledges, not to mention all the cool weaponry from knives and swords to catapults! The last thing I need is for him to find some way of turning my porch swing into a kid-a-pult.

The worst part, however, is that when Judah views the poignant scenes where Aslan is talking to Lucy and she is affectionate and cozies up to the big, friendly looking lion, he gets these crazy ideas rolling through his head.

Ideas that result in such wistful phrases crossing his lips as, "I wish we had a lion" and "I want to pet a lion."

Which wouldn't worry me so much if his eyes didn't light up in the same way they do when he tells us he really wants a puppy for his birthday.

These are just the kinds of phrases which propel me into one of those fast-forward, hyper-speed trains of thought where I suddenly envision him as a college freshman taking a dare from his buddies to climb into some exhibit at the local zoo.

I mean, it happens!

I used to hear such reports on the news and think rather judgmentally, "What kind of kid pulls a crazy stunt like that? And what kind of parents did those boys have that he would break into a zoo after hours and climb into the ____ cage?"

Except that in recent years I can no longer do that, because I know exactly the kind of kid that does that sort of thing.

Someone who was an adorable and yet precocious little 4 year old once upon a time.

Someone just like my Judah.

And though these things are largely responsible for every gray hair I have on my head, I wouldn't have it any other way.

Though boy behavior is foreign to my girly-girl nature and sometimes scares me as his mom, I love that innate, wild-warrior factor in little boys that makes them turn every stick into a gun, that leads them to climb up camper ladders and stand on the rooftop as conqueror, and which causes them to poke at dangerous spider webs and hold emperor scorpions in their hands at the pet store and to beg for reptiles and tarantulas as pets.

The same kind of behavior which when properly channeled helps to grow them up into valiant, warrior-protector types...that will one day be some young woman's knight in shining armor and later a father for his children to look up to. Perhaps also a soldier or a missionary, venturing into places where few others would dare to go.

I don't know what the Lord has marked out for this boy yet, but if his first 5 years are any indication...it's going to be a wild ride!

Happy 5th Birthday, Judah-Boo! We sure do love you!

Making Headlines

A couple of Thursdays ago, Judah and I spent the majority of the day at church for a "Sew Day".

For Judah, this meant spending the morning familiarizing himself with several fascinating boxes of sewing notions the ladies had brought in and playing all kinds of invented games with seam rippers, quilting rulers and spools of thread, and at one point chopping at something with a rotary cutter that had been left 'open' and was extremely sharp.

Thankfully no real harm was done to his person. Not sure about the table, though.

For the ladies, the day involved making donated fabric into numerous bags which could be easily tied to walkers or wheelchairs for a couple of local nursing homes and assisted care facilities.

We got the idea when one of the gals at church made one for her mother, and had dozens of requests come in, "Tell your girl I want to buy one of those for my wheelchair."

These bags are perfect for helping these folks to pick up their mail or newspapers each day, and gives them a place to put their cell phones or keys while out and about.

We arrived at 9 am, and promptly got to work, and were thrilled at all the progress we made. It's amazing how hard a group of dieting ladies will work with the prospect of protein-style In & Out cheeseburgers on the menu for lunch.

Shortly after arriving, we learned that one of the gals who organized the event had mentioned it to someone who mentioned it to a newspaper, and not long after we were into the swing of things...a reporter and a photographer from the paper showed up.

Lesson learned: Always dress as though you're going to get your picture taken for the paper.

**blushes** True to form, I showed up looking a tad frumpish.

Oh, I had makeup on and my hair fixed, but if I'd known the newspaper was going to be there, I would have worn a blouse instead of a comfy t-shirt.

And possibly touched up my toenail polish.

And had a hair cut.

And maybe had my teeth whitened.

And an eye lift...

It's said that TV cameras add 10 pounds...but newspaper photographs easily add 10 years. It's no-win!

Live and learn.

They interviewed each of those present, asking how we came to be involved in the project and craftily sneaked in questions involving our full names, ages and the area we happen to live in.

Lesson learned: Never give out your age to a reporter.

It might seem an innocent enough question, but these are the kinds of details that make it into their reporters shorthand.

Oh, and when they say, "Watch for the write-up on Saturday", don't believe them.

Stories like this are 'filler' and subject to being bumped for more important last minute inclusion into the paper.

Instead, you'll completely forget about it until you get an excited call from one of the sewing group ladies telling you that we were finally in the paper!

A non-Saturday printing like you'd been anticipating.

Then you'll have to scramble to obtain a couple of paper copies for the old scrapbook because you usually read the news online to avoid having to deal with piles of paper. And because the online news doesn't include all the photographs in the physical copies of the newspaper.

And after rounding up said copies, you will sigh with relief that your picture wasn't included.

But then cringe that you have, in fact, been quoted...and that your age is put out there in big blaring black and white numbers for the entire desert to see. Ugh!

The only positive to come from the experience was that Judah (for once) was pictured in the background of one of the photographs behaving nicely.

A total fluke. At one point during that day I clearly remember getting after Judah for running down the length of end-to-end table tops to get up enough speed for a good jump, and playing dinos between stacks of fabric.

I'll give him this, however...many of the ladies commented that he'd been a very good boy (for most of the day) which was really something considering we were there for 7 hours, and frankly, I'm glad there is photographic proof of it out there somewhere!

A New Family Milestone

Sorry...still no photos. Auuuuuuuugh!

I would LOOOOVE to be able to upload all my photos to the blog, as so many blogworthy events have transpired in the last few weeks , but I need a non-Mac computer to do so and I'm still waiting on that.

So bear with me, peeps. Hopefully very, very soon.

Anyway, getting back to the blog at hand, this week we celebrated a brand new family milestone:

4 year old Judah's first cast.

Big surprise there.

Yes, somehow we got through fourteen years as parents without any broken bones, only to have Judah come along and break our streak at age 4-almost-5.

Literally.

And of all places for it to happen? During an Awana meeting after church on Sunday evening.

The boys were supposed to be waiting on the bench for us just outside the classroom. But as time wore on, as brothers do, they got to roughhousing.

Somehow in the process, Judah fell and caught himself wrong, his entire body weight coming down on his wrist bones.

During the meeting, my mom radar detected what sounded like a whimpering sound instead of the distant giggling and talking. I peeked out the door, and saw my baby lying on the sidewalk holding his wrist and whimpering.

Naturally, my heart plummeted to my knees. I swayed a bit. Felt my hairline go cold with dread.

Then, as usually happens with Judah episodes, I experienced that whole feet-stuck-in-buckets-of-cement phenomenon as I rushed to get to his side in what felt like slow-mo.

So I finally get there, and he's doing this little panting-whimpering thing, "It huuu-u-u-urts, mama." Not a cry, per se, but you could tell he was in pain. It would have taken a whole lot worse to make him actually cry, but I noticed that his eyes looked rather glassed over with pain. Clearly, something was not right.

We requested one of the ladies, Mrs. S, (also in the meeting) step outside as she is a nurse with grown children and knew what to do in such situations.

She told us that there was likely nothing that could be done for him that evening, as the immediate swelling sometimes makes x-rays hard to read. Better to make him comfortable and take him to the hospital first thing in the morning when the swelling was minimal.

Sooooo, after immobilizing his injured wrist in an ace bandage and giving him Children's Tylenol we endured the longest. night. ever, waking with his every movement and whimper (with me growing every more delirious and crazy for lack of sleep with each sound), and finally rose and took him to the hospital.

Or as Judah says, "The hos-dib-bow."

Our newly instituted insurance plan sent him to a large hospital far from our house. We'd never been there before. Had no idea how things worked.

I must say that aside from the rather unfortunate name for the hospital, Kaiser Permanente, (permanent not being something one wants to associate with a hospital stay), we were very pleased with their speedy, streamlined and hassle-free service.

Our appointment was for 10:20 am, we were out of there with a cast on by 11:30. We were home sleeping within a couple of hours of that. With our old insurance plan, we would have been stuck in waiting rooms in different parts of town for most of the day. So, as an added bonus, Jeff actually had an afternoon off.

Our whirlwind adventure began at 10:20 when the nice family practice Doctor poked Judah's arms to determine where the injuries were, and had him do a couple hand-motions to determine if it was a fracture or a sprain.

And she totally called it, "Judging by where the pain is located and the fact that he can't do these motions with his hands, my guess is that there are two fractures, one on each bone. However, we're going to send him to upstairs for an x-ray just to be sure."

We had to go to the 3rd floor for the x-ray, and were in and out in minutes.

It was here, while looking down to the first floor of the hospital, that we noticed that Judah had managed to climb a railing that hangs out over that 3 story drop using his one good arm.

And where once again I felt that cold dread feeling spread across my hairline and into my stomach before my knees went weak and I grew a tad bit faint.

Did I mention that only days before this incident Judah was playing with our neighbor boy across the street, and when, upon hearing shrieks of delight I peeked out the window to check on them, I see him take a flying leap from their very large tree?

My heart plummeted that time, too, until I saw him bob up and run around to climb it and do it all over. Because naturally he thought it was all great fun.

At times like these, I just have to turn around and walk away. The tension that immediately knots up in my shoulders (not to mention my stomach) at witnessing such things takes weeks and several massage appointments to recover from.

Yeah, heights don't scare him. Or speed.

In fact, I'm quite sure we've got an adrenaline junkie on our hands, and am seriously questioning the wisdom of passing along big brothers too-small motorcycle to him so soon. Perhaps it's just best to wait until he's 18.

Though by that time I fear he may have joined up with Navy Seals, Special Ops or some such.

All of this daredeveil-ish behavior leads me to believe that we might as well put the casting department on speed dial for the duration of Judah's childhood. Lord, have mercy!

After x-rays and peeling him off the 3rd-story railing, went back down to our doctor on the first floor, who immediately pulled up his digital x-ray image on her computer and sure enough, there were two small fractures on the radius and ulna.

"We're going to send you over to the casting department for a long arm cast. For children this young, we need to immobilize more of the arm for proper healing. After you get the cast, you're free to go. Here is your appointment to come back in 10 days so we can see how things look and we'll let you know then how long we'll need to keep the cast on. Oh, and mom and dad, keep him indoors out of the heat as heat makes him swell enough that it could cause discomfort in the cast, and any perspiration could cause it to itch down inside."

"In the meantime, young man, you need to eat lots of good, healthy foods for your bones, okay?"

Within a half hour, he was getting his cast put on and within a few minutes we were out the door.

Easy-peasy!

The big bummer, of course, is that this means no more swimming for Judah for the remainder of the summer.

And, he'll likely have the cast on for his birthday party next month, so the bounce house idea is a no-go.

So far, the only complaint I've had from him is, "I don't look cool when I'm dancing in this thing." Though I still have to wonder how he discovered this fact.

There's also the whole milking-the-system thing that began when I refused his request for MnM's before breakfast this morning.

In a very Fred Savage-like voice (from his early role in the movie The Princess Bride) he looked up at me and said, "Mom, the doctor said I have to eat good food for my bones!"

Ah, yes, but your mama fails to see how MnM's are considered a good bone-mending food.

Had he said ice cream...maybe, just maybe I would have caved.

Now if we could just manage to keep the cast dry.

Do you know how hard that is when boys get so dirty playing during the day and need nightly baths?

Already we've had a freak incident involving Judah on a chair, kitchen faucet on full blast, Judah slipping and catching himself on the edge of the counter, whilst floundering about madly and knocking over the glass soap dispensers trying to gain traction. Again I ran across the house in slow-mo to try and rescue him...but was too late.

He'd already regained his footing, and holding his cast proudly aloft, "I didn't get it wet!"

Which is good, because he doesn't want it to wash off all the autographs his friends have written on it.

And because we didn't have to go back to the hospital for a cast for his other arm.

**sigh**

It's going to be a long few weeks.

Said in a Boston Accent: "I'm Dyin' Here!"

I know I have my dramatic tendencies, but this not-having-my-own-computer business is really wearing thin.

Jeff has taken his work computer with him (to work!) the past couple of days, and I am having serious withdrawls.

It's pitiful, really, as I think I may actually be grieving, lol.

Which is why I still am unable to post photos in case the three of you are wondering why things have been so picture-less and dull around this here blog lately.

I hadn't realized how dependent I'd gotten on having instant access to information at my fingertips.

These past couple of weeks I'd be thinking about what to make for dinner, and then remember I have a coconut on hand and think, "I need to find that Thai recipe..." and go to my art studio to look it up only to see the blank space on my desktop where old faithful used to sit.

Or I'd go get started on a furniture refinishing project and go to look up the blog which showed a foolproof 'technique' for perfectly painted furniture, and remember...ugh! No computer access in the house. Auuuugh!

I'm dyin' here!

But I refuse to go spend money on something brand new. I have prayed about this matter and know that the Lord will somehow provide this need for us in time.

This summer, I have learned some very important lessons in this regard.

In the past, I have been rather impulsive in my spending. If I found need of something around the house I would just go buy it. Most of the time, these purchases were small and reasonable here and easily absorbed into the budgeet, but occasionally, a bigger purchase would pinch us enough that we'd have to tighten the belt for the remainder of the month. Not good.

With the economy being what it is, and the fact that my husband is a teacher (with thousands of teachers jobs in tenuous positions due to State budgets being broke), the future does not feel quite so secure as it did a couple of years ago, and we've had to reassess our usual M.O. budget-wise.

Enter lessons learned. I'm not sure when I ever got away from the whole trusting the Lord to provide my needs thing, but I've had a major refresher course over the past few months.

This past year, I had a great desire for a camper (I hate to admit to it, but I think we're getting a bit too old for tent camping. This old gray mare's back just can't hack sleeping on the ground anymore, lol.). It seemed a worthy investment as we love to camp, and as far as vacations are concerned, it's a pretty economical way to see the sights on a one-income budget.

We chose to wait on purchasing one, however...and as I've mentioned here before, the Lord provided us a wonderful camper for free.

I'm so thankful that we didn't go impulsively buy a more expensive used one, when this perfectly suitable camper of just the perfect size, with everything still in great working condition including the fridge and A/C, low mileage, needing only minor cosmetic improvements to the decor inside and is really everything we wanted in a camper was waiting just around the bend! It makes my heart sing that it didn't cost us a thing.

(On a side note, the camper reno project has temporarily been placed on hold, as we've had company and that inevitably means that other home renovation projects got bumped up our priorities list, But have no fear, I will post pics as soon as possible!)

Another instance of God's provision was when we began our garden this past spring. I happened to be talking with friends and mentioned our need of a roll of sturdy chicken wire type stuff for our beans and squash to climb up, and our friends said, "Hey, we have a roll of that we were just going to take to the dump". Again, free! And there is more than enough to finish off future raised garden beds! (You should see the hubbard squash hanging four feet off the ground!)

Then, not long after the garden was in full swing, I expressed my desire to fence off a final section of our back yard with a gate to create an area for the pygmy goats we hope to get in time for Jericho to join up with 4-H.

The very next Sunday our pastor announced that the church would be tearing down the chain link fence at church and putting up a block wall, and that the chain link was available to whoever wanted it. And guess what? It's exactly the same height as our existing fencing, and once again...free! Plus it came with posts and cross bars!

Oh, and did I ever tell you the story about the never-ending bolt of white eyelet fabric we also received for free last fall?

I'm not talking the little fabric store size bolts, either, but a tree-trunk thick roll of fabric that is 61 inches wide!

So far, I've sewn curtain panels for the entire home of the friends who gave me the fabric, and made valances for our entire church fellowship hall, plus have plans to make bedskirts and a couple of valances around my own house...and that will still have barely made a dent it it! It's like the loaves and fishes of fabric!

I'm telling you, the Lord gives good gifts to his people! We have only to ask, trust and wait. In His good time, He will provide.

So now, I've asked and am just trusting and waiting that somehow or another a really good used desktop will turn up.

Along with the Vitamix blender I've also been longing for.

And you know what? I'm excited to see just how He does it! You can be sure I'll post about it when it happens, too!

Does this mean I'm waiting patiently?

Mmmm...not so much.

In fact, I would say I'm bordering on impatient (hence the "dyin' here"), though I do have a quiet sense of peace in knowing that the Lord has always provided for our needs and will, in His perfect time, once again provide for our needs.

I'm also getting the very clear sense that perhaps the Lord was also trying to teach me a lesson that I was spending waaaay too much time on the computer before the crash. Particularly during the long, hot days of early summer.

Not having regular access to a computer lately, I've been getting a whole lot more accomplished on my to-do lists and have actually been volunteering to read way more books to Judah (instead of being begged to) lately. How pathetic is that...my poor kid has to come to me with big puppy-dog eyes and plead with me to read to him? Yes, yet another lesson learned. He is my priority...not my social networking.

So, having learned this lesson and having new time management goals in place, I continue to wait. In the meantime, I have the biggest possible memory card available for my camera, and have about 800 photos from all the stuff that has been going on these past few weeks. Vacation, Sister & Cousins visits, Trip to Hollywood, California, furniture redos, first day of school and our nephews wedding.

Lots of posts to come!

:: :: :: ::

Oh, and before I go, I simply had to post a Judah funny.

My cousin Tiff's family was visiting this past week, and her daughter E is a little older than Judah and has recently lost her first 3 teeth.

Somehow, being the small fry in a pool of older kids long past the tooth-losing stages in life, Judah had missed out on the fact that younger kids eventually lose their baby teeth, and as a result was absolutely fascinated by this news.

Of course Cousin E was more than happy to show off the gaps in her smile whenever he asked, which I gather from him was more than once. I chuckle at the mental picture I get of that one.

The only problem is, Judah appears to have forgotten her name. Instead of referring to her as Cousin E, he now refers to her as, "You know, my friend wif the three missing teeth?"! Bwahahaha!

Mother's Day Trip to the Poppy Reserve

For Mother's Day this year, Jeff took note of what I'd mentioned that I would like to do and planned an outing to the beautiful Poppy Reserve in Antelope Valley, California.

I'd asked to go early early, as I was wanting some sunrise photos and to catch the transformation as the poppies began opening to the sun.

This meant rising after just four hours of sleep.

While dashing around to get ready well before dawn, I kept hearing birds chirping outside and thought it was a bit early for birds, but didn't give it too much thought.

Until we'd dragged the boys out of bed, opened the front door and very nearly stepped on this:







Isn't he adorable?

It was chilly outside, and the parent birds we'd heard chirping earlier had apparently fled when the door opened, so the boys put a pile of weeds around the baby bird to keep it warm.

We surmised that the poor little guy must either have fallen from his nest under our roof tiles, or had simply not gotten the hang of learning to fly.

We told the boys that if he was still there when we got back home, they could find some worms for it's food and take care of him until he flew away.

After getting into the car, Jericho fell immediately back to sleep.

Judah, on the other hand, stayed awake the entire way there, peppering us with questions like, "Will da birdie still be dere? Why are we driving in da darkness? Is it night time? When is it gonna be day time?" Why did we have ta get out of bed in da dark time? Where are we goeen? Are we goeen on fa-cation? Are we goeen to da zoo?"

Finally, we arrived at the reserve.

The sun was just peeking up over the hills.





It was super-windy. And cold. And for some dumb reason, I'd not worn sensible shoes. We had to hike the paths with me wearing some slip on heels. Doh!

Nevertheless, the scenery was spectacular and worth every bit of discomfort.





The brochure the Poppy Reserve provided said that Spanish Explorers used to be able to see these rivers of golden-orange flowers from their ships, and nicknamed them La Sabanilla de San Pasqual (the Altar-cloth of St. Pascal), in reference to their shepherd saint who tended his flock far from church and village and knelt in fields of wildflowers to commune with God.

Modern day Pasadena, Altadena and Sierra Madre are all areas that at one time used to be filled with wild poppy fields, but today, the only large fields left are in the rural Antelope Valley region of Southern California.

We watched this little bird struggle in flight against the high winds. It finally stopped to rest here, and didn't seem at all afraid of us as we got close. I wondered if he was friends with the little bird-family we'd met earlier that morning.



The poppies were truly a sight to behold.







The brochure also mentioned several types of snakes known to live in the region.

I was very glad that we didn't see any of them. In all our 12 years of living and camping in the deserts of the Southwestern U.S. we've seen only one snake. Ever.

And I'm not complaining.





The boys were real troupers. It was 6:15 am in this particular photo.

Jericho still had that puffy-eyed, fresh out of bed look, but that cold wind and the brisk walk helped to get our blood pumping after the long drive.





I loved the backlighting in the following photo...the whitish curled over stalks are the pre-bloom stage of a weed called Fiddleneck.





While walking the pathways, Jeff took this photo of Judah tucking his little hand into mine. It was cold and he'd just told me, "I wuv you, mama." **heart melts into a puddle**



I always wonder if such moments will be the 'last' time my little guy does such things...he's growing up so fast.

For fun, we also took a shadow family portrait.



And later, just the boys and me...and the poppies.



Naturally no trip is complete without the boys pulling some goofy stunt or another.

My tripod became Judah's Tommy Gun.



Jericho found this rail to be great for sliding. Over and over and over again. It didn't hold the same appeal for Judah, who was stopped by every post because he was too little to slide down the top of the rail.



As we were leaving the Poppy Reserve, we'd driven a mile or two away and came to a bend in the road where we were surprised to see this



Here's the black sheep in this family.





Though minutes away there was a Poppy Reserve where you couldn't touch any of the flowers, here the sheep could graze to their hearts content.





Such a pastoral scene would be incomplete without the shepherd, watching over his flock with care.



His faithful sheepdog (at center) pricked up his ears and appeared ready to come racing after us when we pulled over on the side of the road to take these photos.



It was truly the icing on the cake to get to see such a sight after just viewing the poppies.

Back in the warmth of the car, the hilly roads finally lulled Judah to sleep.



We stopped off for breakfast as soon as we hit civilization, and then headed back home.

There was time for a long leisurely nap before having a little Mother's Day BBQ that evening for all the local moms in our family.

Our Nephew's son Baby B does "the Mowgli" over to Auntie K on the back porch. He can walk, just barely, but prefers this four-legged method above all.



Meanwhile, Cousin J and Judah ride around 'the outback' in Judah's jeep.

The one he got for Christmas which is already missing a headlight.

Need I explain that he was trick-riding when the accident occurred? Legs sprawled across the hood, hand on the gas pedal? MmmHmm. That's our Judah.

I'm already praying for that long-distant day when he begins to operate real vehicles. With horsepower. And torque. And peer pressure. Lord, have mercy!





I just love the little 'baby-bird' look of Baby B in this picture. He's such a cutie-pie, and seems to love our dog.

Oh, and speaking of baby birds...our little visitor from early that morning was nowhere to be found when we arrived back home.

The very next day, I saw a bird bearing a striking resemblance to him, fuzzy feathers and all, sneaking food out of our dog's dish.

Some moms are distinguished as the kool-aid moms of the neighborhood...but it appears I've am the dog-food mom to all the critters in our 'hood.