For a long time I have wanted to have a place where I could write down all the ridiculous things that are said in our house on any given day. My sister gets a great kick out of some of the things she overhears during our phone conversations. We’ll see if I can remember to record them as they come.
For today, here is your first edition of What the fly on the wall heard:
“Can you please get me that can of chickpeas that you put up on the piano, Sophia?” (Christie)
****
(Hope, teaching kindergarten to Sophia and Gracie; just after she taught them how to spell “owl”) “And the way you spell ‘ouch’ is O-W-L-T-H.”
****
(Gracie, on the way home from getting vaccines) “I’m going to tell Daddy the doctuhs huht me!”
Hello, and hooray for a second week of sharing pictures! Most of these are from weeks gone by; the big news in pictures for this week was that Gracie learned to button her shirt herself! And she was very, very proud…
Yes, this is my proud look.A very rare good smile caught on cameraNo trouble with smiles from this one
And to say good-bye with…
… a lovely shot of the girlies and their beloved Daddy.
Beit She’an; this city is important because it illustrates the Romanization of the Jews at the time of Jesus. Seen here the “Cardo” or main street.Remains from the earthquake at Beit She’anTheater at Beit She’anViewing the old city of Beit She’an; Saul’s body was hung in disgrace on this hill.
It’s been awhile since I’ve really been able to buy Paul presents.
Gone are the days of being in love, single, employed, and able to buy things for the man you love. Not that I’d trade a big warm body to cuddle up to at night, no siree! But I do miss giving him special gifts.
Let’s see, last year I had this great idea to make homemade butter and other gifts to sell at our apartment office in hopes of making enough money to buy him a really great present. After covering the costs of materials I had about sixteen dollars left which I used to buy him The Johnstown Flood by David McCullough which he really liked, but it was not the kind of present I had hoped for.
But this year would be different! I still didn’t have any money, but because he was gone I made some executive decisions about how the money given to us by family would be used. (Haha! rubbing hands together gleefully) Of course, the girls would get their presents, but they already have so much and the things they wanted weren’t going to cost that much anyways. So the girls and I discussed it, and we made a plan to go shopping for Daddy!
Bottom line: it was a blast.
I won’t bore you with the nitty-gritty details, but here’s what we came away with. A laptop table from World Market, Hebrews from the New American Commentary series, a dress shirt and coordinating tie (picked out so lovingly and adorably by Hope and Sophia), and a stud finder (we are permanently and irreversibly diy/home improvement challenged). Yay for presents!
********
After a great day of shopping for daddy, I noticed that I was really feeling anxious about him flying home. So much for my unshakable trust in the sovereignty of God that allowed me to not worry at all when he was flying over there.
Basically, I think that knowing he was so close to coming back just made me really want to know that nothing would keep us apart any longer. Everything had gone so well; it was nerve-wracking to think about what would transpire if there were any major calamities now, on our end or on his end. My solution? A night of crafting.
I am not a crafter whatsoever, but I had heard that felt flowers were really easy to make and I wanted to actually make something to give the girls for Christmas. After putting it off for two weeks, I decided that I might not get any sleep that night anyways, so I would do something to occupy my mind.
Unbelievably, they turned out in such a way that you could recognize them! It was tons of fun and I will hopefully do more in the future. I confess one that was supposed to look like a rose ended up looking like a really bad outie belly button, but other than that, I was happy with them.
Now to go to sleep, and wake up, and hear that he’s in the states.
Thanks for reading my first series: Taking care of four little girls alone (while my husband is on an amazing study trip to Israel). Here are links to the other related posts.
You know there’s rockets and stuff; talk of a ground invasion. Mmm….life never can just be a smooth road, can it?
The seminary is really having to make a major decision here. They’ve been working on this trip for so long; it would be a huge disappointment to cancel. But on the other hand (insert Toppel’s voice from Fiddler on the Roof), it’d be pretty bad PR to send your students over there and have them get stuck or something worse.
Cease-fire.
And…
…the trip is on!!!
All right, I’m not a worrier. And I was truly hoping that he would get to go, and he is!! I’m beyond excited for him.
I often joke with my husband that I have to live two days in the future if I want to actually be prepared for anything.
My mind, my body, and my life are in constant forward motion.
“We have to finish breakfast so we can do our morning jobs; we have to finish cleaning up so we can play; if we get all this laundry folded we can read before it’s time to make lunch; let’s hurry and finish lunch because if the girls get to their naps on time we can go outside and play before it’s time to start dinner;” and on it goes.
Being prepared and planning are vital. They allow me to enjoy so much more than survival with my children. But every now and then something happens and all the forward motion stops.
A hug.
A simple, spontaneous hug from a little girl.
All of them have done it to me; and I love it. It surprises me every time.
Countless times during the day do I pick up a child for one reason or another. Normally it’s driven by that forward motion, transporting them here and there.
But when they hug me, here and there and plans and schedules fly right out the window.
Today it was Mckayla. When I carried her into her room to lay her down and began singing, she laid her head on my shoulder… and just stayed.
How can something so simple be so wonderful? Everything else fades away and I’m just a mom holding a precious, soft, fuzzy-headed little girl. who’s hugging me.
Roses: someone else can stop and smell you; I will stop for this.
This kitchen will never be featured in a magazine. It will never receive enthusiastic compliments from friends and visitors. It’s only future is to observe my less-than-perfect cooking skills and to endure my fledgling attempts to keep it immaculate.
But this little room is a happy place for me. Want to know why?
I get to teach my little girls how to make macaroni and cheese here. (And hopefully insure that they will never try to make a homemade salad dressing out of a raspberry crystal light packet)
What could be more fun than sitting on a floor with a four, three, and two-year old making lunch while the one-year old sleeps?
I wish you could have seen their delight at all they got to do; unwrapping butter, shaking in salt and pepper, adding and stirring the cheese. Hope was cheddar, Gracie was mozzarella, and Sophia was parmesan.
The floor got a little messy; it took longer than if I had just done it myself, but that didn’t seem to matter.
This little incident really impressed me, obviously enough to get a camera and take some rough home photos.
Why did something so insignificant fill me with this deep, abiding sense of happiness?
I think that true happiness always catches us off guard. How many times have I done things trying to manufacture happiness? But there was none of that on this particular Saturday; just got up, got the girls up, made breakfast, probably played or folded laundry, sent my sweet husband off to the library and hoped that the rest of the day wouldn’t be too difficult.
And for some reason decided to put the pot of noodles down on the floor so the girls could make macaroni and cheese with me. Weeks later, I’m writing about it and still trying to figure it out.
Happiness doesn’t depend on beautiful surroundings, ideal circumstances, or perfectly planned activities. It just happens; I think I would argue it happens when you’re thinking about yourself the least.
Okay, I could easily make a long list of things that sound more fun than making macaroni and cheese with preschoolers. I’m a big girl; I have interests, desires, dreams; but for right now, teaching them and spending time with them are the steps I find myself taking. And the big picture truth I’m thinking about is that these small steps have right here, right now, brought me to a happy place.
p.s. Thank you all so much for reading; you’re giving me unexpected encouragement.
If I had a wishlist of things to do with my girls, one of the very top items would be to spend time with each of them alone. As you can imagine, with four of them four and under this is nearly impossible. (Unless you possess an incredible skillset including organization and determination, of which I do not! Hmm…one of the reasons for starting this blog…)
Anyways here is the long shaggy dog about how my wish came true! Sophia began showing signs of mild sickness first, followed by Gracie and Hope. After lunch, Sophia and Gracie were laying around practically beginning to nap on the living room floor. I wasn’t sure that Sophia would actually take a nap, but after putting her in my bed and laying Gracie down, one look at her said she was out. By this time it was time for Mckayla to go down and voila! I had an afternoon with Hope all to myself.
I think sometimes it’s the easiest to bypass the oldest when it comes to giving individual attention.
Her first request was to work in her letter book (always my learner); then we looked at birthday cakes on pinterest and played the piano. Oops…forgot to fold the laundry, again. Actually the most bizarre thing we did was to look at pictures from superstorm Sandy the day before. She asked me if some cars could swim.
Next I got to play with Mckayla by herself. Gracie was still asleep and Hope and Sophia were resting in my bed. I nursed her and then she did the cutest thing with The Open Road. She would flip the pages back and forth and say “DA-Dat!” every time she saw the mole. I could almost promise she tried to say “flower” too, but I’m not biased or anything. I love seeing the pleasure babies get out of doing such simple things over and over. Then when that finally got old, I tickled her and she laughed and laughed. That’s pretty much our favorite activity when we’re together, her and me. = )
And Gracie. Well, to start with she napped from 2:00pm to 6:30pm, and therefore averted the sluggish yuckiness that had afflicted her sisters. (Insert hilarious non-related to title theme story: At dinner Gracie saw a bug, proceeded to clap her hands and proudly pronounce, “I got it!” Then she looked at her hands, wrinkled her nose and said, “Him gwoss!” Was there a bug in her hands? Of course not.) So, there was no way I was putting her to bed at 8:00 like her sisters. We sat together by the bookshelf and she picked books and I read them. Then she would go back page by page and ask a dozen questions about everything she saw. If you’ve ever wondered what love feels like, sometimes it’s not so much a dramatic explosion inside as it is thirty pounds of soft, squishiness sitting down in your lap.
As I write this, I realize that there’s no special time with Sophia recorded here. Does changing her from a wet bed at 3:00 this morning count? Actually, Sophia was the first one up this morning as usual. We normally enjoy hugs and cuddles before everyone else gets up. Actually, I’d say it’s split half and half between hugs and cuddles and bouncing up and down and running back and forth in the hallway …on her part of course, I just watch and adore and try to bring it back around to hugs and cuddles.
I wish I could have time with them like that every day. They’re absolutely wonderful all together, but when I’m with them alone I feel like I can really soak the moments up so much better. Their expressions amaze me; I never get tired of watching them.
Sometimes love feels like the cold blast of air that greets you as your faithful husband walks in the door from work
small steps, big picture 