OLIVIA'S SPIN ON THE REBUS

As you know, my Olivia definitely has a bit of the Bunker in her. So it should come as no surprise to you that, even when she's attempting to verbally recreate a rebus story to make her point, it somehow gets misconstrued.

A rebus story (in case ya didn't know) is a story where some of the words are replaced with pictures. And one of the most common rebus lines ever has got to be this one;

And the above rebus is exactly the one that Olivia goes around saying to us all the time. Only, she doesn't get it quite right. And so she affectionately says, "Sheep, heart, y."

SHEEP. HEART. Y. What a beautiful way to say, "I love you." And only my Olivia could put it just so. Sheep heart y to you too, my sweet daughter. Sheep heart y from me to you.

Toni

DC Talk - I Wish We'd All Been Ready [Live]

Are you ready? DC Talk is one of my favorite groups of all time. Please allow me to share this very significant, all important message with you through them. That none should be left behind. Because I love you all. And more importantly, the Father loves you most.
Blessings,
~Toni~

LAST WEEK OF HOMESCHOOL! WHOO HOO!

Five! Four! Three! Two! One! BLASTOFF.............summer officially begins Saturday afternoon when we finish our homeschool year. Now, I say "finish" lightly, as we do some things year 'round; math, reading, a writing assignment per week, phonics for the littles, and tangents. Yes, tangents. We usually lapbook a science topic or two and then tackle a new skill (ie. cursive).

But mostly, we'll have F.U.N. And Carl just bid and got Sunday-Monday off again (remember, this is a BIG deal in the airline industry) so we'll be able to attend church on Sunday mornings like normal people (not that we fit those "normal" molds all that well). We're going to take our kids swimming at our local recreation facility, possibly take a summer fieldtrip to Boonesboro, KY., visit the Creation Museum in KY, and visit family back in Ohio. We'll also head to Indiana Beach at summer's end, where an entire park is waiting for us. An empty park. With no lines. And a Jellystone campground with air conditioned cabins and heated pool just 1/4 mile from there. I'm looking forward to some "just for fun stuff" with Carl and the kids.

And speaking of summer, Reece just went into tears because the icecream truck just drove through the cul-de-sac. Let's see. At $2.50 a treat, it's not what you'd call a bargain. I passed. He cried. BRING ON SUMMER!

Toni

BOOK SUGGESTION

I have out-of-town guests here this weekend, so I'll be out of the bloggy loop for a bit. Just wanted to suggest a really great non-fiction read first. I read this book about 6 months ago and would read it again in a second.

The author, Eric Brende, graduated from MIT and ditched ALL technology to live for 18 months with the Amish. The scene where he helps with the threshing is hysterically funny. And the scene where he talks of what it's like to attend an Amish church was captivating. And it was very interesting to find out how the experience impacted him for the long run.

Now, you WILL need a dictionary handy, because Eric Brende is so highly intellectual that he will most definitely use words you have never heard of and/or will not be able to decipher from context. Still, I could NOT put this book down.

It's called Better Off: Flipping the Switch on Technology by Eric Brende.

Toni

AMERICAN IDOL (SCHMIDOL).

Thirteen Things I have better to do than worry about who won American Idol Get a spray tan, bikini wax and a tattoo (have never done any of these things, but prefer them to worshiping Idols watching Idol). Schedule a root canal just for spits and giggles (and the only thing that could make it seem more torturous would be if American Idol came on as the drilling commenced.) Memorize the periodic table for chemistry (I'm not in a chemistry course at the moment, though I'm proud to say I set the curve for it when I did take it.) Watch old Star Search reruns (that's all American Idol is anyway; a glorified Star Search, only without other categories to give it a little life.) Spend a beautiful, sunny, balmy afternoon at the Department of Motor Vehicles (and it could only feel worse if I hallucinated and thought the workers were Simon, Paula and Randy.) Watch a Judge Judy-thon (now there's some judging to match Simon's.) Call my senator (about something, anything that would prevent me from using up precious cell phone minutes to vote on American Idol). Track down a single mosquito in my bedroom. In the middle of the night. During a power outage. With a migraine. And type O blood (which makes me all the more appealing.) Get stuck in traffic. With AM jams only. And my gas tank on "E." And four hungry kids in the car (and if talk of American Idol started on the one radio station that didn't fuzz out, I would be required to break out in a fit of road rage.) Schedule a field trip to a pig farm in the middle of July. On a high humidity day. Without proper ventilation (because after all, "some things" just stink.) Read Rosie O'Donell's blog (and that's the bottom of the barrel for me.) Ride all the twirly rides at Cedar Point. Without Dramamine. On a full stomach. Of reaaaaally greasy food. (and don't dare play any Idol songs or or another contest is gonna begin; one called the cookie toss). Getting stuck on a deserted island with Clay Aiken (so I can play my favorite game of all time, SURVIVOR, while I single handedly eliminate my competition.) Oh no she dih-int. Oh yes I did! And now don't all you Idol fans up and disown me. I mean, I still love you, even if you do need a 12 step program. So I say, cry if you must, but while you're doing that, I'm going to be busy trying to pitch Susan Powter as the spokesperson for recovering Idol-holics, what with her profound and appropriate message.

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Toni

NURSE TONI IS A COWARD WHEN IT COMES TO HER KIDS

Okay, I think I'm over the trauma hump enough that I can share this one now. I just could not tell this story in real time, as I was so freaked out in the aftermath. Seriously? I thought I might need therapy over this 'cause it was just waaaaay too much for me to handle.

Now before I get all comfy into the story, let me just say, y'all know I'm a former RN, yes? So I've stomached some really ugly "stuff" to be certain. As such, I should do a blue ribbon job at home when it comes to boo boos and the like, yes?

Um, NO!

NoOOoo!
I. AM. NOT. CALM. WHEN. IT. IS. MY. OWN. CHILD.

There, I said it and now you know. Yeah sure, I handled it okay when I was working three 12 hour shifts in the hospital. But when my own children are injured, I'm just waaay too subjective. Okay then...

The kids were playing upstairs. Carl and I were downstairs at the time, when suddenly the breath was literally sucked out of us by a blood curdling scream from above. It was Reece and he was completely hysterical. As we sprinted for the stairs, we heard Olivia go into an all out plea for help, the kind that makes your hairy arms look like porcupines in fight-or-flight mode. I mean, we were really scared to see what awaited us as we bolted upstairs.

Olivia couldn't catch her breath, she was soooo upset. She was hanging on to her little brother for dear life, who himself was in complete crying hysterics. And what did we see as we cleared the top of the steps?

Blood. I'm telling you, we saw blood!

And it was coming from (deep inhale, Toni)...from his eye. From Reece's eye, people. He was bleeding out of his eye. I almost went down. I mean it.

Once the initial wave of lightheadedness passed over however, I immediately grabbed Reece and laid him down on the floor, barking orders to Carl as I did so. Oh, to see his beautiful green eye bleeding. Bleeding for Pete's sake. Okay, so as I tell this, I'm thinking I'm not so done with the trauma after all. The heebie jeebies are a bit of a tipoff, don'tcha think?

I tried to examine his eye to find the source of the bleeding, while simultaneously trying desperately to calm Olivia down so I could get her to tell me exactly what happened. She was just so upset that it seemed like forever before I could make sense of her words (she tends to freak out in any situation she deems an emergency.)

She did finally spill though. Apparently, she and Reece wanted coins from her bank so they could "buy" some gumballs from their little gumball machine. They had been unsuccessfully fishing for them with her latch hook (shudder), so she shook her bank up and down as Reece moved in close to try to peek inside.

But she still had the latch hook in her hand as she shook.

And he got too close.

And she accidentally jabbed him right in the eye with it (I need air.)

And now.....I interrupt this blog entry to bring you the following message: I'M SO GROSSED OUT BY THE THOUGHT OF HER LATCH HOOK IN HIS EYE! IS THAT NOT SO COMPLETELY UPSETTING?

As I examined him, I found two cuts on the sclera (the white part of the eyeball) in the corner of his eye. The bleeding had stopped almost as quickly as it had started. Thank you, Lord. And he denied any pain beyond the initial injury.

I immediately had Carl call the doctor to see what needed to be done. She asked him a load of questions before determining that we should wait until the next morning, watching for signs of infection. Okay then, so I finally exhaled. And I knew I could handle it from there. And Olivia, bless her heart, did her own "eye exams", covering Reece's eye several times before the night was out and making him correctly identify objects she was showing him.
"Mom, he's not blind. I checked."

I was so filled with complicated emotions. I was frustrated that he was injured in the eye. Thankful that it wasn't worse. Sad for Olivia who was completely freaked out by the bleeding and the fact that she had somehow caused it. Sad for Reece who, in spite of his own pain and fear, didn't want the rest of us upset. He kept assuring us with that sweet little voice of his, "I'm okay. I'm okay."

Dear sweet bloggy friends, please tell me it gets easier, that this is the worst injury I'm going to happen upon during their childhood. I mean, I know it can get worse. After all, my baby brother came home with his nose lodged sideways and his front teeth hanging on by a thread after he flipped over his handlebars on concrete. My big brother pulled kite string right through his hand and sliced half his finger off while cutting cheese (real cheese) as a kid. Who, me? I was a saint ("s'aint happening to me if I can help it.") Oh sure, I did occasionally pass out cold in church, but sustained no significant injuries that I can recall. And definitely no bleeding eyeballs for me.

And here I went and made a joke out of y'all reading my two-fer meme a few days ago, and how you'd probably rather stick knitting needles in your good eye. Stay clear away from those things, ya hear? And don't get too close to a latch hook either. And you might keep a vision chart handy just, ya know, in case.

Toni

"RED" LOBSTER

Reece is such a crab leg connoisseur. So it goes without saying that he got crazy excited about our choice to eat at Red Lobster yesterday evening. Let me just say, everyone should live life with the same passion that Reece does. He goes all out to enjoy the moment and if he loves something, he loves it with all his heart. We get swept up in his excitement without even realizing it.

It was very busy and as we waited for a table, he asked 50 loud questions about the lobsters in the tanks.
"Why are they sittin' still, Momma? "
"Are the ones with blue rubberbands on their pinchers boy lobsters?"
"Why is there no lid on the tank?"
"Do we eat these?"
"Which parts do we eat?"
"Why do they have eyes?"
"Are they lookin' at me?"
"Why don't we see the eyes when they bring the crabs to our table?"
On and on and on he went, until they finally seated us (thank you, Lord).

The waitress came to take our order, a nice gal with the Kelly Clarkson look. Our kids get to feeling all grown up if they order for themselves. Reece, not one to wait for the grass to grow under his feet, began. His delivery was a bit gasp worthy though, as he loudly blurted out,

"Do you have crabs?"

"Crab legs, honey. Do they have crab l-e-g-s."

Unamused, the waitress finished taking our order and went about her business. That's when Reece decided to take care of some business of his own. I might note that he has failed Inside Voice 101 at least three times already.
So, he declared rather loudly, "I NEED TO GO POTTY."

We weren't sure where the restroom was, so Carl had the kids slide out from the semi-circular table we had been seated at, instructing Olivia to ask a server where the restroom was. Before she could locate one, Reece scurried ahead of Olivia to a prominent place in the middle of the crowded dining room and proceeded to yell at anyone who might listen,
"Excuse me! Do you have a bathroom? Excuuuuse meeeeee! Do you have a bathroom?"

Carl and I were mortified.
"Reece. REEEEECE! Stop yelling. Reece, you stop yelling right this instance." Oh, how we wanted to reel him in, but he wasn't having it. And we couldn't get out of our semi-circle seating to snatch him because they had placed one of those infant carseat holders right in front of us and basically caged us in.

Naturally, everyone stopped mid-bite to see who the little darling was. Of course more pressing, they seemed to want to catch a glimpse of the the stellar parents who were responsible for raising such a darling. There we sat, eating our servings of humble pie, even as Carl blotted baby puke from his "I'm into Jesus" DC Talk tee shirt. Attractive family, we Clampetts are.

And now I know why they call it Red Lobster, because I assure you, we were. Red, that is.

Sticking with our oceany theme, we then headed to the automatic car wash to gussy up our van for a visit from the social worker today. Reece has some sensory deficits and thus has a low tolerance for loud noises and unfamiliar motion. Needless to say, he was workin' up an ulcer before we ever entered the contraption. I thought I had him convinced that it was going to be fine. But as Carl began sticking his code in the code thingy, Reece let out a banschee cry that suggested otherwise.

And I'm all, "I'll give you a piece of gum if you're really brave while we go through the car wash."

He chewed me up and spit me out instead.

And Olivia was all, "Hey, buddy. This is going to be fun. We're like the movie Shark Tales and this is the whale wash." See? Oceany theme. And he whaled and whaled wailed and wailed in spite of her creative attempts to stop him. As always, I had to point out that we lived to see the light of day. I'm hoping it'll register soon.

I am happy to say he's gotten better over the years. Less overwhelmed by certain sensory experiences. We can now enjoy amusement parks and we can stop at a redlight under an overpass without Reece thinking the sky is falling. In the lifebook of Pooh characters, he's definitely our Piglet. And yes, sometimes it's plain hard to gauge when to push him to work through some of those fears and when to just love on him 'till the fear subsides. Prayerfully and carefully, we do our best in that regard. At the end of the day, it's all we can do. And I'm thankful for seeing the glass half full. Because, ya know, it truly is.

Psalm 103:3
Praise the LORD, O my soul, and forget not all his benefits--who forgives all your sins and heals all your diseases.

Toni

LINE UP, FOLKS. IT'S A TWO-FER

I've been dually tagged, first by the very talented Julia over at A Piece Of My Mind. I insist that you head over there and read the piece she wrote for her grandparents' 45th wedding anniversary years ago (I linked to it above.) And she was only NINETEEN or so when she penned that piece. Like I said, talent. Btw, I was tagged by her to list 8 random facts or habits about moi.

And Dana over at Life Turned Upside Down launched the deuce when she tagged me to list 10 things that make my life wonderful. She posted some photos of her kids in her meme response and can I just say, OH. MY. GOODNESS. They're beautiful!
Serious cuties.

Okay, so I figure if I combine the two meme responses instead of making you read through them individually, you might actually visit my blog again. So, without further ado, a two-fer combo list of things that make my life wonderfully blessed, served with a side of random "moi" facts. I realize you'd probably rather have knitting needles stuck in your good eye, but try sit up straight and pretend you're interested. You know I'd do it for you.

1. The knowledge that two birthmothers' deepest losses are my most precious blessings is just huge. It's HUGE. My life is richly blessed and I don't ever lose sight of the way in which this happened.


2. I crochet. In phases. I'm in a dry spell at the moment. Haven't picked up a hook in......don't even know where my hook is. Unless, of course, it's lodged in your eye (which reminds me of a blog entry I'll be whipping up when I'm over the initial trauma).


3. I'm blessed to find myself in a season of being home with my children. This was not part of the original plan. But then my plans are just crayon sketches on flat paint walls compared with the Master Architect's perfect plans.


4. I'm seriously deeply saddened that the childhood I knew is no longer realistically available to children. Daycare and increases in crimes committed against children make it virtually impossible for kids today to play outside all summer long. We had the entire neighborhood (and then some) to imagine in and explore. We were out until dark, getting tons of fresh air and physical excersize. We were so not bound by concrete walls, computers, television, or video games. What a wonderful time it was. And how quickly it died away for next generations.


5. I love tomato sandwiches with mayo and a little pepper and salt. I also love steamed cabbage with just some pepper and salt. Come to think of it, I love many veggies (but don't try to get me going with the tomato "fruit vs. veggie" debate.) Steamed broccoli. Asparagus. Artichokes. Brussel sprouts.


6. My faith in Jesus Christ makes my life more wonderful than I could ever explain. But I will try if you ever need me to. Because it's that important.


7. I have an irrational fear of being under the water and seeing a ship go overhead. I'm also afraid of sharks and jellyfish, irrationally speaking. So yes, I get a bit peaked when I hear the Sponge Bob theme song. "Ooooooh, who lives in a pineapple under the sea?" I really think I'm going to end up in therapy over that theme song. I'm feeling queasy again...


8. Homeschooling our children makes my life wonderful. Not superior. Just wonderful for our family.


9. Two favorite romantic comedies I enjoy are Six Days Seven Nights (see clip below) and Just Like Heaven. These are reaaaally good. Try 'em.

Toni

six days seven nights

Possibly my favorite movie scene of all time. Cracks me up. Just CRACKS ME UP!

CARRYING AROUND A SPARE TIRE so to speak.

Anyone care to fess up?
I'm just sayin', did one of you tape a "kick me" note to my back? Because really, I'm thinking there's something to it. How else can I explain the chain of events I sacheted through yesterday? So here's how it all went down (hill), the comedy of errors that embodied my day.

First order of business was to drop off a basket of goodies at the post office, a thank you for the tour our homeschool group received recently (and you'll recall I tried to drop it off last week but our tour guide was on vacation.)
Once this was done, we had plans to collect fallen stones for our perennial garden path.

So what was I wearing?
Bumpkin wear.

Honestly, I looked like the poster child for a Jeff Foxworthy act. All the way down to my nerdy practical navy pointy tennis shoes (Just stop). It seems that in suiting up for boulder collecting, I completely forgot I would look all "backwoods" in the post office. So I did what any dignified woman would do. I sent Carl in. After all, he was the vision of pure class in his Cincinnati Reds faded t-shirt and baseball cap worn backwards. We cleaned him up good though. We flipped the hat around before he went in.

Next stop, the resale shop for a high chair. We have a really great shop close by, priced waaaay better than Once Upon A Child and with really nice "stuff" too. Though I'm thinking their high chairs must be reaaaaally nice because they didn't have any. Charming. Sigh.

Moving on to the neat flea market we've been wanting to check out. Should be fun. Um, when it's open, that is. (Wat-wah! How many strikes is that so far? How many am I allowed to have?).

Alrighty then. We drove an hour west to collect fallen stones along the road. The kids were hungry so we decided to stop for sandwiches first. Carl made a wrong turn and,....oh, it just got worse.
Much worse from that point on.

I began.
"Turn around right here."
"I'm just gonna u-turn over here."
"We're gonna end up with a flat tire on that nasty old stone."
"Aaaah!", with a short "a" (which, in the original Carl, means, "Leave the driving to me, honey.")

So we shimmy into the sandwich shop and Carl goes back to the van for something. I wasn't ready for his words when he returned.
They went something like this;
"Okay then, we now have a flat tire on the van."
"I'm not going to say it (Toni bites tongue 'till it bleeds) because you already know and I'm just not going to say it. But you might want to get out there and at least get started changing the tire while we're waiting for our food."

And thus began the TWO HOUR saga that felt more like two days. Fifteen minutes passed and Carl came in all grease monkey-like.
"It won't come off. I can't get the spare tire off."

We have never needed the spare in the near five years we've owned the van. And now it was found to be hermetically sealed to the van's underside. I was having none of it.
I confidently stated, "I'll try."

Now you might think that Carl laughed when I said that. See, but he knows me. He knows this is the woman who, in his job related absence, was forced to talk fix-it with the local Tractor Supply Company. The woman who, without "skills" or know how, correctly self diagnosed her lawn tractor's failed steering and spent a good 2 hours removing the corroded tie rod end and another half day replacing it promptly corrected it (thank you very much).


I proceeded to beat, kick, twist, pull and basically abuse the spare tire in a variety of time honored ways, only to discover that yep, Carl's right. She's stuck reaaaal good.

So Carl tried again. And then a lady pulled in right next to our obviously tireless van.
On the same side as our flat tire.
And parks there.
Even though there are only three cars in the lot.
Swell. Just swell.

I went back inside the sandwich joint with the kids. Figured I'd make myself useful and just hold my baby. He liked that.
Then he threw up in my lap.
And it was 82º.
And suddenly I'm all "Eau De Throw Up."
Naturally.

And Carl comes in, greasier than before. His Reds shirt was now more of a blotchy Red(s). Grease blotches'll do that.
"It won't come off." Clearly, he's on the heat stroke track, as we've already established the stuckness of our tire.
"Yeah? Um,....(What's plan B? What's plan Bbbbbbbbb for cryin' out loud?)
"Hey, I know. Don't we have some kind of roadside assistance with our car insurance?" (Toni, you genius.)
"Why yes, we do. I'll call them." Never mind that we're a good 40 minutes into this ordeal before it occurs to one of us that yes, we have the flippin' roadside assistance.

Carl steps back outside to make the call. The kids are now, um, bored. But it's 82º and sunny outside and Reece is about as "tan" as Bernadette Peters (whom I've met, btw) so the kids aren't venturing outside just yet.

Carl walks toward me flashing a "V" sign.
I'm thinking, "Sweet Victory. YES!"
No.
He's actually flashing me a "2", as in two fingers up, as in two hour wait. Ugh! Big flippin' ugh! And there's more.
"We're into an extended calling area so we're incurring roaming charges for all these calls." Just ugh!

Oh, it's on. Toni's comin' up with a better plan if it kills her.
"Call a local dealership and ask to speak to a mechanic. Maybe he'll have a tip as to how we can get that stinkin' cable to drop down so we can access the spare tire."
MECHANIC'S PROFESSIONAL TIP (and I quote):
"If you have anything available, you can cut the cable. Otherwise, we'll torch it if you bring the van in."

Yeah, suuuuuuuuure! I just happen to have an industrial strength pair of toenail clippers in my purse. Will that do? As if. And excuse me, but bring it in? Really? 'Cuz I'm thinkin' it's not a good idea to drive very far on just a rim. But then that's me, ever the analyst. Mechanic does tell Carl these cables lock up all the time (well, now that's special.)
And that it runs about $125 to replace them if you have to cut the tire free. He was just full up with good news for us.

So, now we're a solid hour into the ordeal, waiting for the towing guy.
Carl muses, "I wonder if there's a tire place close by."
Honestly, what are the chances?
Carl heads up to the restaurant counter. Shakes head.
"There's a tire place just over there."
As in a block away.
And it's been there the whole time (if only we asked).
Carl walks away with the tire. On his head. My idea. He says it gave him a headache.

And, par for the course, towing guy shows up 5 minutes later. I explain where Carl went and he offers to give him a ride back with the tire. Off he goes to get him.

A minute later, AND I KID YOU NOT, another little truck shows up. I read the side of it (while laying under my van again, trying to abuse coax the spare down). And do you know what I read?

ON SITE RV MEDIC.

Uh huuuh, did too. And the guy offers to help and has cutters the size of Edward Scissorhands. Definitely bigger than industrial toenail clippers. And I literally laugh out loud at the irony. And he thinks I'm showing early signs of heat stroke. And he doesn't know I'm waaaay past that by now. And my kids are crafting up clover necklaces and wanting me to wear them. And the baby's napping in his carseat with blankets over him to protect him from the sun. And the whole scene frankly is making me loopy.

Then Carl returns with towing guy, who puts the plugged tire back on for us. We thank him and send him on his merry way, but not before he offers this;
"The faulty cables are a real problem. I deal with it all the time in my business."
You don't say.

Well, he needed to take a number because we'd already heard it from the dealership mechanic and the tire place.
And now Tow-Mater has made it official.
Cable mounted spare tires don't always function properly.

I insist that if you have such a spare on your vehicle, that you promptly check the operation of the cable so you don't find yourself in my story. Seriously, do check this out. And if it works, check it every 90 days or so.

See, the thing is, I'm not a hundred percent for sure but....I'm really thinking there's a pattern to the responses we received. Like maybe it's a real problem for these cables to rust and/or malfunction somehow? I'm just sayin'.

Epilogue: And I'll have you know this is still not the complete story. I left out the part where the elderly man offers a small pair of needle nosted pliers to Carl to "cut" the cable. The cable that's at least as thick as a straw. Oh, and the part where Carl cancelled the service call because he was hoofin' it to the tire place, but the call didn't catch up with the towing guy in time. After the whole ordeal was over, we had 15 calls from tow-mater and another 15 from Progressive insurance, over whether or not they were going to pay Tow-mater for his services.
Keep in mind that all those calls are coming in via "extended calling area." NICE!

Toni

TONI NEEDS

I wish I could say this idea is my own but that would not be true. So I'm just going to say thanks to Kelli for sharing this hilarious internet search with me (I figure if I send my four readers some traffic her way, she won't mind me borrowing her fun.)


Okay, so! Go to "Google" and search for "your first name needs" (i.e. I typed in "Toni needs"). This is what "Google" says I need - (followed by my comments in parenthesis):

1. Toni needs a predictable routine in a safe and comfortable environment (padded walls if necessary).



2. Toni needs to widen her circle of friends as well (and I want anonymous bloggers who read this to take note and SPEAK UP SO I CAN HEAR YOU).



3. Toni needs to come back. (Where did I go? I hope I had a good time.)



4. Toni needs legs. (BA! HAHAHA! Um, I don't think so. Pooh guy knows best.)



5. Toni needs to get some new friends in "the biz" and a can of Act Right. (Uh, anyone care to be my new best friend in the bloggy biz? And I've been dodging cans of Act Right for many successful years. Why stop now?)



6. Toni needs his support, not his anger. (Well, duh!)



7. Toni needs to be herself instead of trying to be Ashanti. (Whaa??? I'm going around telling people I'm Ashanti? Frankly folks, I Ashantished astonished.)


And the shocker of the bunch?

8. Toni may need to be euthanized (Oh stop, already. I'm not that fargone yet).

Okay, so that's how you play "Your name needs." Why don't you give 'er a whirl. If you do, you simply must let me know what you came up with for your own name.

I do want to add one very important oversight that Google clearly missed. And that is,...TONI NEEDS JESUS.

"If we claim to be without sin, we deceive ourselves and the truth is not in us. If we confess our sins, He is faithful and just and will forgive us our sins and purify us from all unrighteousness." 1 John 1:8-9

"For it is by grace you have been saved, through faith--and this not from yourselves,
it is the gift of God--not by works, so that no-one can boast." Ephesians 2:8-9

Toni

FAITH LIKE A CHILD

Our evening was planned out. I realize they weren't hot plans that would make the next person oooh, aaah and covet. But as for me, the evening was glass half full.

Simply stated, we had dinner together, took the kids for an evening walk through the neighborhood, then planned to make some special cookies we've all been looking forward to. And baths would end the day.

The cookies were scheduled as an activity for homeschool. They're called Resurrection cookies and they serve as a tool to help children better grasp the death and resurrection of Jesus Christ. We enjoyed sharing this experience with our kids and they really responded well to the kinesthetic message.

But it wasn't the family time that made my day great (though I did fully enjoy it). And it wasn't the really cool activity with the all important message. Rather, it was the response that was stirred in my 7½ year old daughter's heart. As we taped the oven door shut (to symbolize sealing the tomb), she dashed upstairs, quickly asserting, "I'll be right back!"

Several minutes later, she returned with a piece of journaling paper in her hand.
"I made this. I thought we could tape it to the oven door too, for Jesus."
Faith like a child. I'm always blown away by what my God can teach me through the eyes and hearts of my own children. And by the way, Olivia's own attempt at learning cursive was noted as she penned, "on the cross." I haven't taught cursive yet (this summer), but she's chomping at the bit to learn it so she's attempting to teach herself without me. Oy vey.

I praised God for her heart response this evening. As Tedd Tripp so clearly points out in his book Shepherding A Child's Heart, providing the best possible shaping influences is important. But we are not merely molding passive clay. And children are not merely passive receivers of the shaping influences they encounter. They are active responders who will either accept or reject the shaping and molding that occurs in all families. So again I say, praise God for Olivia's tender heart response this evening. Oh and by the way? The cookies are delish.

Mark 10:13-16
13People were bringing little children to Jesus to have him touch them, but the disciples rebuked them. 14When Jesus saw this, he was indignant. He said to them, "Let the little children come to me, and do not hinder them, for the kingdom of God belongs to such as these. 15I tell you the truth, anyone who will not receive the kingdom of God like a little child will never enter it." 16And he took the children in his arms, put his hands on them and blessed them.
UPDATE:Carl and I sampled a few cookies after they baked last night. Reece is our early riser. He came downstairs first today and immediately recalled the cookies that were placed in the oven when he went to bed last night.
"Momma, can I see the cookies?"
"Sure, bud. Let's do it."
I explained that the tape over the oven was now cut away, just like the stone over the tomb had been rolled away. I opened the oven and he peeked inside.
Astonished, he exclaimed, "Jesus ate some!"

Toni

THURSDAY THIRTEEN

Thirteen Things about the rest of the family.

Okay, so last week I shared THIRTEEN HAIRBRAINED SCHEMES THAT DIDN'T PAN OUT. This week, I thought I'd expand and include the fam too.
Because, after all, the apple doesn't fall far from the tree.

1. I ordered one of those "Welcome" signs (painted on slate) for my cousin's wedding and I misspelled her last name (I'm gonna play the "not my fault" card and say a family member, who shall remain nameless, told me it was spelled that way).


2. My younger brother was walking home from elementary school and had to, you know, go. So he stopped by a classmate's house and inquired if he was home. When the dad said no, bro asked if he could use their bathroom and basically peeled paint before continuing on his merry way. I can just imagine that dad shaking his head in disbelief.


3. The same brother used a stripped lamp wire to try to jump start our dog's heart when she went into heart failure ("CLEAR!"). I know it's crazy but he was voted class clown and he's funny even when he isn't trying to be.


4. My mom loves hates it when I take full advantage of our public outings together. For example, we'll be at a craft show together and I'll find the crunchiest, ugliest craft in the place then say with all the enthusiasm I can muster, "MOM! Oh! My! Goodness! This lace toilet tissue holder would match perfectly in your master bath. It's just like the one you planned to order." And then she tries to keep a straight face and I usually feel a swat to the back of my head.


5. My dad can't swim. He wouldn't get on a small boat in a bathtub, let alone on the ocean. Still, he found himself on the ocean in a tiny wooden boat known as a water taxi, all because he waved at dh and I. We were pushing off the dock and we thought he was asking us to wait up, so we made the taxi guy pull the boat back in.
   My mom, Carl and I cracked up as Dad white knuckled a wooden pole and wouldn't let go to clean the ocean spray from his sunglasses. We laughed even harder when he barked, "Can't you get this thing any closer to the shore?" Um, the water was only knee deep where we were dropped off.


6. My sister skipped highschool once and the school called looking for her. I said she was in bed sick (Okay yes, I lied.) They refused to believe me. Uh, that would be because the truancy officers caught up with her at a house that she and others were hanging out at. And their getaway plan? They hid under blankets and tables "where no one can see us."


7. Big bro and hubs went hunting with bro's not-so-scholarly next door neighbor. He (neighbor) wandered out of the woods exclaiming, "Ow! I think I just got shot." Not whatcha want to hear from another hunter. And sure 'nuff, he had been shot. Naturally, hubby expected to see limbs missing and blood shed. Nope. Just a bebe pock.


8. One of my mom's male cosmetology students showed up to school in clear plastic pants (ewwwwww).


9. Another student, who was not so stable, had a magazine out in class and was sticking his thumb in his mouth, closing one eye and cocking his head to the side. He was then moving his thumb across the pages in a scanning motion, telling her he was getting creative ideas for his haircuts. Inspiration for haircuts from Popular Mechanics? Yes, that's what he had been reading. But hey, if Genevieve can use a bowl of won ton soup for decorating inspiration on Trading Spaces, then pretty much anything goes.


10. Little bro had nose surgery in his late teens. He told the surgeon he only had two requests; "Don't make me look like Michael Jackson and don't make me look like Miss Piggy."


11. Carl just interrupted me and asked, "When are we going to boil those #2 nipples?" And now he's griping, "Take that off your blog. That's STUPID!" He's guessing I'll lose a few readers on this one. Seeing as I only have four, perhaps I should heed his warning.
    Clarification: Think plastic baby bottles.
    


12. During homeschool yesterday, Reece was doing his math work independently. To teach the writing of number five, I say, "Here's a back. Here's a tummy. Put on a hat and 5 looks funny." The answer to Reece's math problem was 50. Every time Reece tried to write the 5 in 50, the poorly sharpened pencil would quit marking the page as he got to the "hat" part. I overheard the following;
    "Here's a back.
    Here's a tummy.
    Put on a hat......
    put on a hat..........
    put on a HAAAAAAT (sigh)..........
    Then in frustration, "HEY! 5 won't wear a hat, Momma!"


13. Carl once got a ticket for speeding and was required to appear in court because he already had too many points on his record (I didn't call him Mario for nothing back in the day). So, being the expert that I was on speeding tickets (Oh, stop. I said was)...I told him how to impress the judge so he would walk away with a minimal fine as I once had.
    "You need to dress up. Wear a really nice casual shirt and khaki pants. Be well groomed. Use manners and be sure to toss out, "Your Honor" several times. Express regret. But DO dress up and make a good visual impression."
    Carl called me when he got home.
    "How did it go? Did you dress up?"
    "Yep, sure did."
    "Did'ja use your manners and say, "Your Honor" and all that?"
    "Uh huh. Just like you told me to."
    "Well, how did it go? Did he seem pleased with your presentation?"
    "I don't think so."
    "Why not? You did wear the dress shirt and khakis, right?"
    "Uh huh, but he still gave me a major fine."
    "Wow. And you went out of your way to make a good impression."
    "And it might have worked too if my case hadn't been assigned to a blind judge."

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Who Am I... Casting Crowns

I realize you may already be familiar with this awesome song by Casting Crowns. But I thought this was such a cool spin on it. Blessings!

WORKING IN THE YARD and such

Carl and I removed wood chips from our landscape beds and put down brick chips instead (just like landscape stone). We did this out of practicality and not a desire to spend two full days off running back and forth to Lowes to pick up stone. And more stone. And MORE stone. Anyone care to tell me what 10+20+8 equals? That's right. How did you know? It equals a small dent in the family budget and a large pain in the lower back. Swell.

And okay, so we underestimated a wee bit when we bought the first 10 bags. I knew we would have to pick up a few more, but TWENTY-EIGHT MORE??? Please! And per my math equation above, you'll note that it took a total of three trips to finally have enough bricks. Do I know how to spend our leisure time (and fun money) or what?!
But okay, it does look better and will stay put better than the woodchips. Oh, and don't hate me because I'm a Bengals fan. 'Cause I'm not.



Other than that, we just had a few other happenings on our days off. We tried to take a thank you basket to the post office for the tour I arranged for our homeschool group. Miss Pam was our tour guide and she did a great job. Liv and I walked in with a basket filled with goodies, only to hear, "Miss Pam's on vacation. Please hold on to it and come back next week." All well and good, except now we had to drag that flippin' basket into the Mexican restaurant and Menards so some of the items didn't melt. How do I find myself in such silly predicaments?

Oh, and I thought I smelled "illegal substances" in the restaurant and my imagination got the best of me. My family was chowing down on their Italian pastas. Meanwhile, with every bite I took I wondered if my food had been laced with extra "herbs." Carl laughed at me when I said I thought my lips felt numb. They weren't. It was just my imagination, which he lovingly calls, "Toni's world" (and often proceeds to sing the Elmo's World song when I'm having a moment).

Toni

This one's for the fam.

Some photos for family across the miles (and anyone else who wants to take a look see). Enjoy!

~~~~~~~~~Mr. Chubs (a.k.a. Brandon)~~~~~~~~~~

~~~~~~~~~~Four ragamuffins after soccer~~~~~~~~~~

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~Big sister, Little brother.~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

~~~~~~~~~What my bunch was doing today.~~~~~~~~~

Toni

HE WAS AFTER MY GAMS (AND THEY'RE NOTHING TO COVET)

Okay, two people many have asked me to tell my Mr. Hero's story (Kafree, stop laughin' now, sister) so here goes..................

I worked for USAirways for thirteen years. They're a tight bunch, airline employees. Many laughs and great friendships too. Kathy and I were hired on the same day and became fast friends (still are, but sadly my dear McStick is now far away in sunny so-Fla). We went on our first cruise together at age 22 (don't need to tell you how fun that was). And we attended the wedding of two other airline friends together. Ya with me? Stage set.

Okay, so the first fox pox of the wedding day came when we stood outside for the traditional throw rice or something that won't cause birds to swell up and die moment. Alas, our friends opted for releasing balloons. Not me. I threw white rice at my wedding. Just kidding. You didn't think I would seriously do that, did ya? Naw, it was long grain.

Anyway, so we released the balloons......and releeeeased......and released ("Sheesh, "T" sure went over the top with these wedding balloons," I pondered.) Only later did we learn that our friends' wedding was the first scheduled that day,.........and that the next wedding had ordered identical balloons. Uh huuuh! We had released not only our friends' balloons but the second wedding's as well. Um, oops? "Best wishes for a looooong life together!" (I've always wondered if the second wedding was forced to pick up a few bags of long grain themselves).

So, Kathy and I decided to head over to Mr. Hero's for a couple of crab salads (because nothing says seafood like faux crab). Our conversations were always a marathon hoot for us, yet somehow dizzying for so many others. That's because we had matching cases of (what?) jitters, ADHD, I'm not sure. But I do know we could discuss 9 or 10 topics simultaneously, flipping from one to the next in rapid fire succession, all while downing our faux crustaceans.
While we sat, ate and gabbed incessantly, I did happen to notice a short, portly man, late 20's, with glasses and a crew cut sitting over my left shoulder by the window (think Winnie the Pooh shape). He wasn't eating anything and I assumed he was waiting for a ride. Normal scene.

A good fifteen minutes passed and we were now nearing completion of our meal. We were still seated when all of a sudden, "Pooh" guy comes flying out of no where and makes a dive under our table. Here's one of those moments where the brain can literally think a million thoughts a minute (even faster than Kathy and I can talk together, which is snappy fast). My mind was trying to justify why a strange pooh-shaped man just dove under my table, especially as Kathy and I were in dresses and hose (yes, nylons were unfortunately required back in the day). While I was concluding that "surely he must have some special needs and surely he must have gotten excited about a quarter he spotted on the floor", it happened. And "it" was noooooooot good.

Pooh guy grabbed onto my gams with both his hands and began rubbing them up and down frantically. I let out a most terrified cry, which naturally caused my dear sistuh friend, Kathy McStick, to leap into action (picture Wonder Woman, only without the golden girls). She's a thinker, Kathy. She put an immediate plan into motion to protect me from the mentally unstable man who was under the table pawing relentlessly. She did what any quick thinking, got your back girlfriend would do. She beat him silly with her fake Gucci bag (I have to tell you, I'm snorting as I type this because she weighed all of 102 pounds soaking wet, and I mean she gave him a beatdown).

And as quick as it had started,....... it stopped.

He was gone.

And Kathy, not one to miss out on the opportunity to make a joke, said, "Oh look, Toni. He's fleeeeeing on his bicycle." He did too. He pedaled off, gratified for having groped my gams.

I was dumbfounded. And do you know not one Mr. Hero employee ever heard or saw a thing? Would have been a great day for a cash drawer theft. Sheesh!

Naturally, we called the police and were creeped out to learn that they knew exactly who we were talking about. He had "frightened" kids on their way home from school which was just so disturbing to me. One of the sobering moments in this story. Now on to his parents.

The police drove us to his nearby home (how far can one flee on a bicycle after all) to identify him. We stayed in the car and they brought him out on the front porch.
"Yes officer, that's Pooh him."

I had no sooner identified him when these two older people, his parents, scudded out of the house and made a bee-line for the squad car. The door on Kathy's side opened first and she scooted away and leaned toward me as she stared in the face of an angry man sporting a ribbed tank undershirt and enormous eyebrows.

"$#%!*&$%@#^*&$#@!!!!!"

"Kathy, what did he say?"

"I have no clue. Their last name was on the mailbox and it was something like Theosophranoeliopolis."

"Oh. Okay then, that explains it."

Suddenly, my door flew open. Throw Momma From The Train was standing there and LET. ME. TELL. YOU., someone done told on her baby and she was not happy about it. As I scooted the other way and leaned into Kathy,

"#@%$#%*%@!#$@%*!!!!!!"

"Kathy, what is she saying?"

"I have no clue. I don't speak angry Greek Momma."

Finally, one of the officers made them leave us alone ("Step away from the vehicle with your hands up!" Naaaaw, that part just made for good story tellin', though they did make them get away from the car.)

Our gam grabbin' ordeal was finally wrapped up and it was time to head to our friends' reception. I'm happy to report we ended the day by dragging the bride's father out on the dance floor to do the Lawnmower with us. And we had to throw in a Polka or two just for good times. And now you know the story that forever went down as the great Mr. Hero's incident.

NOTE: Speaking of airline pals, if you can catch Dateline tonight, a former close airline friend of mine will be on. I was so shocked and saddened at how her life turned out after I moved on from the airline we both worked for.

Toni

PACK A BAG AND GRAB A SEAT...

...because it's in the works; the Toni got attacked at Mr. Heros story. Stay tuned...
(Kathy McStickness, you're starring center stage on this one).

Toni

THURSDAY THIRTEEN

Thirteen Things about Toni

THIRTEEN HAIRBRAINED SCHEMES THAT DIDN'T PAN OUT.

1. My sister-in-law and I once tried to capture a rat that meandered downstairs into my living room (with my dim cat following curiously behind). The plan? To block off the entry from the living room to the dining room using couch cushions, then climb up on chairs to throw a cooking pot over him (upside down)like a trap, beating him with a broom if necessary. Well, sis-in-law got into a smackdown as that nasty rodent repeatedly climbed the broom handle, both of them screaming like girls. This went on for a good 30 minutes until it occurred to me that we should prop the front door open. Um, 3 minutes after I did that, he simply walked out.


2. When I was about 10, I decided to make my way in the world. I got busy crocheting bookworms and sold them house to house. I worked my tail off too, both in crafting 'em up and in running my sales pitch for my startup company. Got a great start on my college fund that summer, all $3.25 of it.


3. During first grade recess, I convinced several friends to hide behind the small brick wall that our school's name was on. I was laughing soooo hard as we walked back toward the building, the rest of the class in their seats and the teacher waiting at the door. It wasn't as easy to convince those same friends to remain my friends after we all got a nice paddling from the principal.


4. In highschool, I decided to double pierce my own ear. I froze it with an ice cube for about 15 minutes, heated a sewing needle, then poked 'er good. It all went well until I couldn't get the earring in. Had to let the hole close because my ear was burning like all get out when the ice wore off.


5. The pet squirrel and the "pet a squirrel" schemes. I wanted a pet squirrel so a friend brought me one, along with a nice cage to keep it in. The first time I opened the cage door to feed my new pet, it flew at me with such a flurry that I tripped and fell down. And it went up into the rafters of my parents' garage and we could hear it up there for days. Never did recapture it. I also tried to pet a squirrel. I made my best squirrel call to a squirrel in our backyard and (surprise to me) it slowly came in until it was right by me. I had some sort of "bait" in my hand that it was in the process of taking when I reached out to touch its tail. The squirrel turned and nipped at me at the speed of light. Fortunately, it did not break the skin.


6. We finished building our country home in April, but didn't seed the lawn until September. In that time, weeds at least 5 feet tall grew over our entire 3.5 acre lot. As a result, we had huge swarms of horseflies bunkering down in them. Our foster care social worker came out for a visit and was running and swiping madly at all the flies that were dive bombing her (of course, that's not as funny as the time our cable guy opened the box on the side of our house, and I saw him running past my dining room window yelling and screaming, swiping as he went; a few seconds later, he rang my doorbell and calmly said in frustration, "Got any bee spray?").


7. That same summer, we had to rake all those overgrown weeds onto burn piles to rid our property of them (there were waaaay too many to just ignore). We poured gasoline on the first pile. When I tossed a match on it, the gas literally combusted with an enormous boom and flare of light, singeing my eyebrows (I can see my fireman friend, Dan, rolling his eyes right now.)


8. In college, I broke my key off in a frozen car lock and had to borrow a friend's car for the day. She had a killer sound system installed, so naturally I cranked it up (and up and UP), rockin' out to Miami Sound Machine as I made my way down the highway. Um, the music was vibrating the car sooo hard that the rear view mirror fell off. Not to worry. I fixed it with Superglue.


9. I once made dh get up at 5am so we could disembark on the island of St. John. Our cruise ship dropped us off at 6:30am, then continued on to St. Thomas. We were given transfers to get over to St. Thomas to catch up with the ship. All this because I wanted to experience the private beach I'd heard of. Oh we did, too. We had Solomon's beach all to ourselves until 10:30 in the morning. That's when I awakened to find 1, 2, 3 naked young men lying on their sides facing me. I let out a little scream and quickly tapped dh. That's when we realized most everyone else on the beach was naked. Would have been nice to know of that "minor" detail before making a day of it.


10. When we owned a camper, I decided to climb up on the roof to apply sealer while dh was at the store. The ladder fell over and it was way too far to jump. So, I spent the next 2 hours enjoying nature from the roof.


11. I took old flip flops on a cruise and wore them as we went shopping in St. Kitts. While lazily making our way through the many quaint and expensive boutiques, I blew a flat in one of my flip flops. "No big, I'll just buy a pair in one of the shops." Nary a one, people. What kind of island doesn't carry stinkin' flip flops?
    We borrowed a stapler from a store clerk and went crazy "fixing" my flip flop. Now, anytime we hear the Jimmy Buffet song Margaritaville, we sing, "I blew out a flip flop, when I did St. Kitts stop."


12. Carl thought it would be good to listen to a pots-n-pans sales pitch so we could get free film (newlyweds, lol). A man showed up with his wares and he looked just like Matt Foley from SNL. He proceeded to sit us down in our living room and stuck a video in our vcr, instructing us to watch it. He then went in our kitchen, dug out our own pots and pans and began to cook chicken, potatoes and carrots on our stove. We were hostages in our own home, with Matt Foley cookin' up dinner in our kitchen. And no, we did not want his $800 pots-n-pans.


13. Friends wanted us to go skiing with them. "Oh sure, let's hit the slopes." Only, I didn't know how. I must have been a silly sight when the ski lift arrived at the top of the hill and I fell out. But I topped that when I skied like greased lightning down the hill, no clue how to break my speed or come to a stop. I was passing others like an Olympic champ, then gave out a banshee cry when I realized I might hit a crowd at the bottom of the hill. They moved out of the way just in time for me to discover a ditch, which I had no way of navigating around or stopping in front of. So I did what any new skier would do. I acted all cool as I flew across it and the front of my skis dug into the other side, dumping me right in the icy water. Pridefully, "I'm good. I'm good. No really, go back to your skiing'. I just lost track of my own speed is all."

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Toni

CHINESE FREEZE TAG (I'M IT)

I've been tagged by the other Toni over at Special K Family. Before I post my 10 incredibly interesting and highly enlightening facts or habits about my incredibly interesting self (roll your eyes with me), I want to ask my praying friends to stop for just a moment and lift Toni and her family up in prayer, as well as her dear friend Barbie. Both women are military wives whose husbands are just weeks away from deployment. While I can assure you Toni is made of strong "stuff", it also makes me sad to think of these families separated for so long. Yes, they know it comes with being married to a military man. But let us not forget what comes to us because of their sacrifices, both at home and abroad. So do pray for these specific families (now), please.

Okay, I’ll write 10 facts about me and/or habits of mine.
- I’ll tag 10 people.
- If you’ve been tagged, you do your own list and tag 10 more people. (”No tag backs.”)

1. I rode jumpseat in the cockpit of a 737 from Cleveland to Atlanta (which is entirely impossible these days due to massive changes in security procedures.)


2. I saved an 11 year old boy from drowning as I witnessed his friend going under. I was only 17 at the time and not a good swimmer myself. Sadly, his friend died.


3. My favorite movies? Hmmm. Just Like Heaven and Grease.


4. I love The Brady Bunch. All of it. Even the corny Christmas special.


5. I attended public schools through the 5th grade, then parochial school through highschool graduation. I have two associate degrees and my RN license. I opted to homeschool my children after carefully considering the pros and cons of public, private and home schooling. I respect that we all have such choices.


6. The only tv show I regulary watch is Survivor.


7. The dream job I failed to pursue is that of photographer.


8. I want people to understand that the face of adoption is a woman in crisis, no matter which route of adoption folks choose to pursue.


9. My favorite dog breeds in order are: Labs, Yorkies, and Border Terriers. I also like (but would not own) Chows, Irish Setters, Blood hounds, Basset Hounds, and Rhodesian Ridgebacks, with their reverse hairs along the spine.


10. I am truly happy for others' successes but turned off by those who simply put on airs.

AND THE BONUS ITEM (da da da ding): I hope pantyhose never come back in style.

And now I'm "it."
1. Starrs in Denver
2. Girl On A Mission
3. Prayer Warrior
4. Overwhelmed With Joy
5. Mayhem and Miracles
6. Just Me
7. Just Another Day in Paradise
8. All Things Lucy
9. The Schmidt Family
10. Paula's Place

Toni

Just a few recent "to do's"

Let's begin with you picturing me as Tippie Hedren in The Birds, 'cuz I might as well have been her understudy these past few days. For starters, blackbirds relentlessly tried to build a nest in the barbeque (yes, the same one I coated with enamel paint as I watched my neighbor's rendition of The Sound of Music). They kept stuffing the grill full of dry grasses from the ornamental grass I cut back for Spring. I left the grill open to discourage them, but dang if they didn't come back the second I shut it. In fits of frustration, I'm thinking, 'How very kind of them to supply kindling for my smoked bird barbeque.' No, I wouldn't (I prefer wrens) but the thought did cross my mind.

Meanwhile, I kept hearing our front door wreath moving about over the course of several days. And do you think it occurred to me that NO, our wreath does not generally blow around endlessly? NoooOOO! Thought never crossed my mind. So Carl opened the front door yesterday and, joy of joys, Robins had built a nest on top of the wreath. I got a chair and stood on it to look in the nest. Thankfully, no eggs. I immediately denied residency to the Robins as well, moving their nest (mud still pasty wet) into our tree out front. They never returned and that's perfectly fine, as I don't fancy being hollered at by angry red breasts any more than Carl fancied finding bluejay talons in his scalp when he once tried to fetch our lab puppy away from the vacinity an angry bluejay momma.

On to deep thoughts with Olivia, as shared during our 3 hour ride home from a day spent in southern Indiana.
"Mom and Dad, did you know a dung beetle eats poo?" Nice.
"Hey Mom and Dad, let's buy that abandoned house and flip it." Apparently, she's watched an episode or two of Flip That House and decided we need to do it.

And today, Reece had a 102ºtemp. His throat had a few spots on it (not to mention the runny nose and congested cough) so Carl took him to an urgent care at 10pm. No strep, thankfully. But oh, hey, watch that tongue depressor because my sensory deficient boy just...might...Ohhh, shoot!

"What kind of cleanup crew do y'all access at this time of night?"

Naturally, Reece's hypersensitive gag reflex resulted in a sloppy joe dinner revisit. I'm thinking 'not so attractive.'
And yet I'm thinking Reece felt vindicated in hurling because after all, he had to miss "the crab show", a.k.a. Discovery Channel's Deadliest Catch, and you know how my boy likes crabs.