My big boy turned 10 on Labor Day. He is such a thoughtful, mature, responsible and well-mannered young man of whom I am so proud. He says that he wants to be a scientist when he grows up and also the first person to walk on Mars. Here’s to a fantastic year in 4th grade and many, many more happy birthdays to come!
Monkey ropes
The new orangutan exhibit at the zoo inspired me to do a backyard project. One 150′ roll of 5/8″ poly-nylon rope and a couple of hours of putting it together (Lane and J. did the tree-climbing to tie the ropes in place while Yours Truly supervised, heh), and voila! We have monkey ropes for the monkey boys! It was $100s cheaper than buying a new swingset, and the boys love it. They can climb, swing, make up adventures and – best of all! – burn off LOTS of energy!
frustrations
I’m not sure what frustrates me the most: the daily separations at bedtime b/c the boys (mainly the younger three) won’t settle down, the potty issues that we continue to have with Ri., the toothpaste-for-hair gel incident, the pooping in the backyard incident (mind you, we have no pets), the unbelievably gigantic zit on my chin that came out of no where and has become the focal point of my face, my exponentially multiplying gray hairs, my CDs that someone got into without permission and smudged or the insurance red tape that we’ve been wading through for the nephews. I guess it’s just a combination of all the above.
Lane works one weekend a month and has drill another weekend each month. While I realize that these are both “work” related activities, it’s still a break from being at home with the kids, and I have to admit that I’m jealous. Some nights, I come in here to the bedroom when the boys go to bed (and I use the term loosely, since it’s at least a good hour and a half until they are settled and no one is getting in trouble) just to be by myself. It appears to be solitude, but it’s not like the walls are sound-proof. I still hear the fussing and trouble-making. Lane is “in charge” during those times, but somehow the boys still come and knock on the bedroom door. I don’t want to be mean, but I feel like hollering: “Go away!” Usually, I tell them that there are two parents in this house, and whatever they need to say, they can tell Dad; thank you, I love you, good night.
I know Lane is probably just as frazzled as I am, but hey, he gets two weekends “off” every month! This is why I look forward to girls’ weekend get-aways with Brandi. We only manage to have them three or four times a year, but they are nice when we can. Sometimes I’d like to just have a weekend get-away all to myself. It really wouldn’t be terribly expensive even to fly somewhere, just to have some quiet time to myself.
Moon chasing
Tonight, I introduced the older three boys to one of Nathan & my favorite past times as kids on nighttime car rides – moon chasing!
To my great delight, they loved it! The gist is quite simple: you observe the moon through the car windows and pretend like you are chasing, racing or running from it (depending on which direction you are driving). Tonight was a full (or nearly-full) moon, which made it fun, plus there was a planet (Venus or Jupiter? We weren’t sure.) off to the side of the moon, for added viewing pleasure.
We started out facing it head-on, then it was beside us for a little while, then it was behind us. It’s especially cool when there is a harvest moon — you know, the gigantic orange one just on the horizon that looks SO huge, you could almost drive straight into it?
Sharing this childhood fun with the boys and talking about Nathan made me smile, which is something I’ve needed all day. It’s been a rough couple of days, emotionally speaking. The boys are boys; nothing really newsworthy to report there. School has started, and we’re getting used to a new routine, but things are trucking along ok. Prayers, in general, are always appreciated.
first day of school
This year, the first day of school had some “bonus” firsts …
Of course, the big news is having D. living with us now and the excitement of his first day in 1st grade. It’s also the first year that A&J are riding the bus. We’ve always lived close enough that we dropped them off in the morning, and they rode the daycare van after school. The new school is across the highway, and while it isn’t far distance-wise, the boys were excited about being able to ride the bus, and we were glad to avoid drop-off line congestion.
The oldest two will ride the bus home, too … all the more reason why I’m so thankful that my mom lives nearby! They’re good kids, but it’s great to know that she’s just minutes away if they need her. D. will take the daycare van after school, but he likes going there, so I think it’ll continue to be a good experience for him.
My alarm went off @ 6:05am, and we woke up the boys @ 6:20. The odd thing about this morning was that I honestly didn’t think about Nathan in the midst of the hustle & bustle of getting ready for school, fixing breakfast, taking a few quick pics in the front yard and getting them on the bus.
Lane took R&R to daycare on his way to work, so I had a quiet drive in solitude. It wasn’t until I was en route to work in an empty car (I think that’s the first time EVER that I didn’t have anyone to drop off anywhere!) that it hit me, and I felt a pang in my spirit that Nathan didn’t get to see D.’s first day of 1st grade.
Some days are pretty rough, and I feel a bit like a zombie on auto-pilot, just going through the day in slow motion. Other days – like when Ri. or D. come over to give me a totally unsolicited hug or kiss – I stop long enough to bask in it and realize that God is still in control.
I feel blessed and look forward to hearing how everyone’s first day of school went!
venison & wild hog
I don’t hunt. I don’t particularly care to go hunting, ever. I’ve been to a shooting range once, and I’ve shot arrows at targets a couple of times, but that’s the extent of my interest. I can’t even stomach filleting a fish, and I have to not think too much about eating chicken on the bone.
However, I have a friend who hunts with her husband, and we were blessed with a gift of several pounds of ground venison! I had heard that venison is leaner than beef, but I was amazed that I didn’t even have to drain it after it browned.The boys loved every, single dish we made with the venison.
We’re going to make arrangements to pay for processing on additional venison and perhaps some wild hog. What a huge help for the grocery budget – meat really adds up! Hooray for friends!
the ME isn't a twit, after all
It’s a minute past midnight, and I really should be asleep. Eight hours from now, I will regret staying up to write. I just can’t get my mind to settle down …
Late this evening, we got word from the Magnolia PD chief that the medical examiner’s office has officially ruled my brother’s death Accidental. We, of course, have known all along these past seven months that he would never have done this purposely, but having our knowledge affirmed by the earthly powers that be is a huge relief.
I haven’t shared much about this, and it isn’t the sort of thing that I would normally Tweet about, post on Facebook or mention in the breakroom, but if you’re taking the time to read my blog, then you must give a darn and might actually want to hear about it. *smiles appreciatively … so I shall continue (disclaimer: some potentially disturbing details forthcoming).
The police reports and subsequent investigation (a must-do with a gunshot fatality) confirmed without a shadow of a doubt that somehow, some way, the gun fell, discharged when it hit the floor, shot him in the chest and the bullet lodged into the ceiling. I’ve said before and I’ll say it again that it’s a mixed blessing that he didn’t die immediately. He had the wherewithal to call 911 and the presence of mind to speak calmly and shield his sons from being too traumatized. Every which way I replay that night in my mind’s eye, I can see God’s faithful hand intertwined throughout the details.
The medical examiner (ME) questions any sort of shooting death, naturally. However, when we got wind that the ME was wavering on the conclusiveness of whether or not this was accidental, I was furious. That big sister who once gave a harsh talking-to on the school bus to a bully who was picking on my little brother reared her head, and I felt very protective of Nathan’s reputation – in life and in death.
I thought to myself (and mumbled aloud, I will admit): How dare they question the incontrovertible evidence (sorry, Dumbledore – I had to steal that phrase), not to mention the totally non-suicidal mindset of the brother I’ve known for as long as I can remember? He was exquisitely happy – in love ad nauseum and anxious to get married this fall. He had a good job that he enjoyed and excelled at, not to mention those two boys he loved more than anything on the planet. He had bad days, like we all do, but he loved his life. One of the greatest joys I’ve received in recent days was discovering his Twitter account and reading his posts over the months about how happy he was.
First and foremost, it is reassuring to know that his good name will not be sullied by a twit ME who can’t tell the difference between a shot wound from a gun that has been dropped and one that was fired purposely. Sheesh, I don’t even watch CSI and I think I know that much!
Practically speaking, having this official news definitely helps us to bring closure to his estate (such as it were). His final paycheck, life insurance, etc. have been sitting in limbo all this time, because we could not access any of it without the official death certificate.
None of those things are as important, however, than knowing that someday when the boys are older, we can share with them the absolutely indisputable story of how their Daddy died. There will always be questions for which we have no answers, but this we do know – it was an accident.
Finders-keepers
A friend was asking how I keep up with laundry with five boys now, and it reminded me of a funny story.
The other day, one of the boys got upset b/c someone else had on his t-shirt. The wearer defended himself, saying, “Well, it was in my pile!” So, I intervened and said, “Look, guys … I have five kids’ stuff to sort, so if I accidentally put someone else’s things in your pile, then you need to pass it back to whoever it belongs to!” lol … I guess he figured it was finders-keepers!
With white clothes, I don’t even try … I just put the basket in the living room and tell them to get theirs out and put them away, plus make a pile for mine & Daddy’s (they don’t have to fold them, just put them in a pile). When there are a few random socks left in the basket, then I make an effort to look for the owner.
I incorporated laundry hampers on the weekly chore list, so the shared bathroom is supposed to get emptied 3x/week, and towels collected twice a week. My method in the laundry room is simply to wash whatever hamper is full when I walk in there! (There’s always at least one! haha)
Special assignment
I love Max Lucado’s books, and he is an engaging speaker, as well. He spoke on campus at Chapel last year, and we watched his video presentation as part of a staff retreat on Tuesday.
He shared some thoughts about his book, “You Are Special,” which was written as a children’s tale but has been embraced by the business community, as well. He mentioned the “trickle-down effect” of how special we feel when we know someone who knows someone special.
I remember how special I felt when I met John Grisham at an elevator during a literacy event in Dallas a few years ago. He – a best-selling author! – shook my hand, exchanged a few pleasantries and seemed genuinely interested in what I thought of his writing. I certainly felt special!
Mr. Lucado’s message, though, was that we are special simply by the fact that we are here on earth, created in the image of God. “You can do something no one else can do in a fashion no one else can do it,” he said, “and you have a unique assignment in the world.”
I’ve been mulling over some thoughts for a new post the past several days, and Mr. Lucado’s message helped to solidify some of my musings. It was ironic that he mentioned the “trickle-down effect,” because that is precisely the phrase that has been on my mind lately. I’ve been thinking of it in terms of how certain events in our lives affect so many other people. I talked in an earlier post about the ripple effect of Nathan’s life on those around him, and I continue to grapple with the ongoing impact of his death.
In my own life, it feels like things haven’t trickled down on me so much as a deluge has been dumped over my head. I’ve been struggling lately with the fact that I am the back-up plan. Nathan died; I’m his sister; I’m the boys’ guardian now. But what if I died? There’s not a Plan C. I worry about things that are a) out of my control and b) haven’t happened. I serve a God who is SO big, SO mighty, SO good … yet I fail to trust him with the unknown.
Sometimes I have a sort of invincible feeling, as if God wouldn’t let anything happen to me because the boys need me. That sounds so stupid, and don’t worry – I’m not going skydiving or developing any dangerous habits – but my human nature can’t wrap my finite mind around God’s much higher thoughts. Who am I to think that just because I’ve suffered greatly means that I’m exempt from future suffering? The world is full of hurting people, many of whom lack the hope that I have in Christ. I want to be like Job; he lost everything, and he wrestled with God, but he didn’t lose faith.
I do have a unique assignment in the world, but it doesn’t really matter what my Plan B or Plan C are – or any of my fears or aspirations, for that matter – because our time here on earth is only a fraction of God’s plan for us. As Mr. Lucado put it: “Right now, it’s just a warm-up – a temporary assignment.” Take a step forward today, Angela, and trust your Creator.
don't tell the dentist
I was putting away towels in the bathroom and noticed that A.’s toothbrush wasn’t in the holder. I asked where it was, and he shrugged and said he didn’t know.
“I think it’s in my bag from camp,” he said.
Umm, excuse me?! Camp was like three weeks ago!
I asked what he’d been doing all this time, and he said flatly, “Using mouthwash!”
I made him unpack his bag and find his toothbrush, which he did (of course!).
Oi vey … this is the one who is never a problem!
faith, sweat & tears 