Wordless Wednesday: A Glimpse of Spring

Miscellany On My Mind

I've been tagged by KatyBug over at Watercooler Wisdom!

I don't do these things too often because linking stuff up takes me forever with my archaic dial up connection, but this one seemed kind of silly-fun, so I thought I'd give it a shot.

The Instructions:

1. Grab the book you're reading currently, and turn to page 123.
2. Go to the 5th sentence.
3. Post the next 3 sentences.
4. Tell the name of the book and author.
5. And it says that you are to tag 5 others, but I think I'm just going to open this up to whoever wants to play, as I know not everyone has time to read. If you wish to play, consider yourself tagged!

Okay, here's mine, taken from the book Ten Thousand Charms by Allison Pittman:

Gloria tucked her skirts closer and spoke into the night.

"What happened in there?" Gloria asked.

"I could ask the same thing," John William said, tossing his branch into the fire.

So there you have it. =)

:: :: :: ::

In other news...

Over the weekend, Jeff had just put a movie into the DVD player and was backing up to sit down on the couch while trying to get our goofy remote control to work.

Without looking behind him, he went to sit down in his spot on the couch, only to find our older son Jericho lying there, his head right where he was to sit.

As any dad would do, he pretended to sit on him.

Most kids would probably laugh and say something like, "Stop it, dad" or "Get off me!"

But Jericho sat up totally incensed. "Oh, great...now I'm going to get pinkeye!"

:: :: :: ::

Heard at the dinner table a few nights ago in response to our toddler son's comment about his salad.

"It's not puke. It's Italian dressing."

:: :: :: ::

Upon hearing our 2 year old Judah in his bedroom, still wide awake at 11 pm (long after he would normally be asleep), I poked my head into his room and said firmly, "You need to get to sleep."

"I hear Cwick-ed, mama!" he said, then huffed in annoyance.

And when I stepped into his room and listened, there was indeed the sound of a cricket just outside his bedroom window, and it had apparently been keeping him awake all that time.

I feel his pain.

:: :: :: ::

While we were finishing up a list of errands after our older son's minimum day at school Friday, Jericho mentioned that he needed to use the restroom.

I told him, "It'll just be a few minutes more", and we went ahead and went through a nearby drive-thru to pick up some lunch.

As we were pulling out of the parking lot, he's squirming around over dramatically, and announced that he needed to go really bad and could he go inside?

Knowing his penchant for dramatics, and thinking of the germs in public restrooms, I declined. "We're 4, maybe 5 minute from home...I think you can make it."

We drove in silence for a minute or so before he mentioned again that he needed to go, ahem, #2, but his dramatics had ceased.

Or so I thought.

When were approaching the first light on our route home, our son, hamming things up, suddenly cried out loudly through his open window at the people in the car next to us, "I think my water just broke!"

I glanced over then, and saw the professional looking older couple in that car turn and stare at him with lemur eyes, the man immediately rolling up his window against such weirdness.

And in case you didn't already know this, let me be the first to warn you all that iced tea kind of hurts coming out through your nose while laughing.

A Beloved Toy Story, and Potty Training Challenges

When our older son Jericho was just a little tot, Disney's Toy Story (and not long afterwards, Toy Story 2) were all the rage for boys (and girls, including my little sister Alison, who is just a few years older than Jericho).

He used to ask, "I watch Buzz and Woody?" and would get out his toys (many gleaned from the thirty or so Burger King kids meals we had to endure as a family just to collect the entire set) and would sit all the way through the movie, playing contentedly with all the movie characters.

I used to get soooo much done around the house during showings of that movie! Piles of laundry washed and folded, bathrooms scrubbed to a shine, dinner in the crock pot, and sometimes I even managed to make bread dough. From scratch.

And if you've ever made bread dough from scratch, that's really saying something, because as any mom knows, you commit yourself to a project like that at the wrong time, and you've a surefire recipe for disaster: Toddler + sticky bread dough all over hands and wrists = gleeful toddler in mama's bathroom hallway squeezing an entire tube of toothpaste onto and into the carpeting while you scrub furiously, in futility at the kitchen sink.

Fast forward about a decade, and now we find Judah begging to watch these same movies.

All day long lately, he'll ask, "I watch Toy Story, mama?"

And just like brother before him, while he waits for those blasted old-school Video tapes to rewind, I find myself yelling the oddest things across the room. Things like, "No, Judah...don't put your cars in the VCR!" (With big brother, it was toast.)

And like his brother before him, Judah would watch them over and over all day long if I let him.

Except that he doesn't sit still for long (or ever) like big brother used to.

Here he is training to be the next Beckham, kicking the 'socco bow' a little too close to mama's camera for her liking, while Toy Story plays in the background. He's planning ahead, you see, all that "To Infinity...and Beyond" stuff having already rubbed off on him.



Because little brother has taken such a liking to Toy Story and Toy Story 2, Jericho went to bat on his behalf, and wheedled and pleaded with us to get a box of his old toys down from their shelf in the garage the other day. "Judah really wants those toys down...it's just not right to watch those movies without the toys when they're all just sitting up there in the garage waiting to be played with...C'mon, mom...please?"

How could I possibly say 'no' to that (especially when we all know how much Jessie and the Prospector hate being closed up in the dark)?

Even if I did know who really wanted those toys down...



...and sure enough, I found him in Judah's room reliving his childhood not long after they came inside.

Judah recognized the characters, and was immediately entranced, "Toy Stow-we!" And later, "Take pit-tcher Cowboy, mama" he said proudly (and vainly, meaning he wanted the picture of him being a cowboy).



Judah's attachment to these toys is slightly different from his brothers.

Jericho was a purist when it came to putting Mr. & Mrs. PotatoHead's features on properly.

And though he liked Buzz, he was a Woody the Cowboy fan all the way. We had quite a crisis on our hands one day when he lost his first, beloved Woody's hat somewhere between our Bible Study and my chiropractic visit. We retraced our steps, to no avail. Jericho was heartbroken, but lucky for him his birthday was just around the corner, and the cowboy dolls were replaced in spades.

Judah likes Woody well enough. But he loves doing the whole Picasso thing to poor Mr. & Mrs. Potato Head. And his favorite character?



"Fuzz Light-Hay-Oh"



"To In-fifthy and BEYOOOOOND!"

Then, only a day or two later, while he was briefly playing with all the Toy Story toys and watching the movie, I hear him call out, "Mama...wook, I go potty!"

I looked into the living area and saw this:



(and though you can't see it in the photo, and he'll no doubt thank me for that fact in years to come, his bum was uncovered inside the bucket

"NOOOOOooooooo" I shrieked.

And like any good blog mom, grabbed my camera and ran to avert disaster (after first taking a photo).

I'm pretty sure my shrieking ruined him on the whole concept of potty training for at least the next year or so, though. *sigh*

He's still not quite got the concept down of telling me he needs to go before the fact, and, um, lets just say that (thankfully) everything was contained in the diaper.

Notice how Picasso Potatohead's angry eyes are bugging out in the corner of the photo? Back when Jericho was about 5, we were on a family road trip, and Jericho was sitting in the backseat of our truck feeling kind of woozy after drinking a big old bottle of cranberry juice on an empty stomach, and got sick in the exact same bucket.

Of course, it was thoroughly cleaned out back then, too...but since this little episode...just like ol' Woody sang about in Toy Story, "strange things are happenin' to me...straaaaaa-ange things..." Toys are showing up in strange places lately. My shoes, my purse...

Let me just say that if someone suddenly posts a picture of a headless Barbie doll drinking darjeeling on my blog...send for reinforcements!

Wordless Wednesday: Joshua Tree In The Snow

More Bloggy Bling!

I feel like I hit the jackpot this week, thanks to the kindness of my blog-friends in giving me more bling!

I'd like to thank my sweet friend Maria at Mommy of Four for giving me the following award

Maria is a busy, SAHM of four, and yet always finds time to leave uplifting comments on everyone's blogs, and interesting things on her own, including great recipes. She recently wrote of how her family made it into the Guiness Book of World's Records!

As I understand it, recipients of this award are to give 3 writing tips in their blog before passing it along to others, so here's my two cents (or three as the case may be)...

1.) Butt in chair, writing. I've heard this one recently from two separate published authors. If you truly want to write (blogs, books, whatever), you must simply do it. Easier said than done, I know, but this is what separates published writers from those who simply have good ideas.

2.) Hone your craft. Always be educating yourself on becoming better at expressing yourself. Be teachable. Read up on anything that will help you to improve your skills, and then apply it to all your writing.

3.) Make it interesting. Try and find the best 'angle' for telling a story. If you can throw in some suspense, humor, intrigue, or a build up to the end...capitalize on these things. It keeps people reading all the way through...and in blogville, that's essential if you want folks to leave comments. ;o)

So there you have it.

I'm passing this one along to my 'Perris connection' blogger friends Sing4Joy and HisGirl, whose blogs I always look forward to reading, as their love for their respective families and for their Lord always shine through in their well-written postings. These two bloggers have known each other for a long time, and their friendship just spills all over, enveloping you in, making you feel like you've known them both for years.

:: :: :: ::

And many thanks to my sweet friend Deb at The Daily Bee for awarding me with the

award. Deb was there at the beginning of my blog journey to cheer me on, and continues to encourage me and make me laugh. I enjoy reading about her close-knit family, her 'second job' selling things on e-bay and her many other observations on life. She does fun stuff to her blog with the changing seasons, and currently has the coolest "French" blog header. Magnifique!

I'm passing this award on to my teacher friend Becca in Texas. I'm not sure how she does it all, but she manages to juggle being a wife, mom, and teacher, all while being a great friend and encourager to those in her life, and does a fabulous job at it all. Her strong faith in the Lord shines through in all she does and in her Everyday Kindness.

Thanks again, Maria and Deb!

Why I Don't Sleep Well These Days

This is our toddler son Judah, holding his favorite stuffed toy...a furry, green and black spider (and the ever present matchbox cars) which he carts around like other kids do their beloved blankies.

He is, for the most part, a charming, happy-go-lucky little guy.

And fearless. Not much scares him.

Not even the dark.

He frequently goes down the dark hallway into his bedroom, when the lights are off, and hunts through his toybox in the dark for whatever he is looking for.

I recently found this on the floor near my laundry room door:

The shattered remnants of the 'child proof' doorknob covers, which had with brute force been broken off removed from the door, so that our young son could go through the dark laundry room, and out into the dark garage.

And unlike other children who would scream in sheer terror at finding themselves trapped in such a dark and scary place as a garage, my son didn't seem to mind at all.

Somehow, before the door had slammed shut behind him, he'd found his way to a tub full of toys that were recently banished to the garage, and when I found him, he had already retrieved the Rescue Heroes he was looking for, and was playing with them, apparently by braille, in the dark.

Mind you, I'm afraid to go out in our garage in the dark.

Not him.

And the only thing he's scared of are monsters.

But not the big, scary type you might expect.

Nope, our little guy thinks "mon-toes" are these

and these

Yes, mascots of any kind (including Disney Characters) or car-lot 'wind dancers' have reduced him to frightened tears and death-grip clinginess on the couple of occasions when we've seen them up close.

But never dangerous or scary things like bugs and snakes.

Because he's the type of kid that will get up close to spiders on their webs and poke at them with his fingers, saying endearingly, "Look, mama...pie-dough!" and then make like he's going to pick it up and cuddle it to his chest.

I shudder to think of what he'd do if he saw a snake coiled up in our yard.

I cringe over this daredevil trait in our son, and have literally had nightmares about it.

Because we live in the desert and if one looked hard enough could find plenty of either.

He calls his favorite movie the "Thhnake Movie", which he begs for us to put in whenever he gets the chance.

It's a documentary called The Deadliest Creatures Down Under and includes dramatizations of encounters with venemous and deadly snakes, spiders and the box jellyfish. He watches this thing like other kids his age watch favorite animated Disney movies.

Yes, he loves spiders. And snakes. And snails. We don't dare give him any ideas about puppy dog tails.

But my husband wants us to keep things this way.

He read once that Samurai soldiers were--from infancy--never permitted to be purposefully scared or frightened by anything, their trainers wanting to capitalize on the inborn sense of fearlessness in them, nurturing it as they grew older, as this trait is what would make them elite and fearless warriors.

Of course, my husband is planning ahead towards our son's future football career, because in addition to fearlessness, our young son has a very high pain tolerance and a natural potential for athletics. At almost 2 1/2, he can catch the ball, throw a pretty good spiral, and has excellent aim. And if he falls or gets hurt, he just jumps right back up and keeps going, and doesn't even cry.

As the mother of this future football Samurai warrior, I shudder thinking about the future, but still feel I've done a pretty remarkable job of biting back my usual responses when I've had the occasional cricket jump out from the bottom of the laundry basket and he's been nearby, or when he's poked at spiders on their webs, or fallen hands down on the concrete while running, or touched snakes and tarantulas at the pet store.

But there is something about my sweet young son that strikes utter fear into this mothers heart.

Something that causes me to wake, heart pounding at the slightest noise each night in the darkness of our home...

Because, since upending his toy box and mastering the deadbolt on the front door, all that is preventing him from going out the front door in the middle of the night and freely meandering through the neighborhood by the light of the moon...

...is a flimsy, plastic 'child proof' doorknob cover.

And it won't be long before he remembers how he got out into the garage that time.

Oy.

I'm thinking we're going to need to invest in one of these, installed higher up the door, without his fingerprint programmed in.

And that's to get out of the house.

Just For Fun

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