Dreams Caste-ing

Today was International Day for Zaya's Kindergarten class.



He was dressed as a man from India, and said "namaste" to people for a couple hours straight this morning. His good buddy, Thomas, was from Japan.



He wore his little outfit from karate class, thereby introducing the idea to my son that such a thing as "karate class" even exists. A momentous day which may live in infamy.

Then on the way home from school today and in the middle of an otherwise normal conversation, Zaya says, "Hedgehogs are born with soft quills, lucky for Mama! The quills start to harden an hour after birth."

Word for word, I promise. And no, he did not have a book in front of him. Apparently I gave birth to an encyclopedia about six years ago.

And then Mim pipes up with, "Mommy, am I dreaming?"

Um...no. But Mommy might be.


This picture was from Mim's last night at Cubbies, our Wednesday night church program for the 3 and 4 yr. olds.

Masked Avenger

Want to see something disturbing?



Want to see something flat-out creepy?



My sister painted that mask, and then my children discovered it when we went to visit her at her new home.

The Twilight Zone (Princess Style)

You never know what you might see when you walk into Mim's room. Here's what I saw this afternoon.



Apparently she decided to display seven of her dresses on the floor. She even had matching accessories scattered around. Oh, and she has worn at least three of those just in the last three hours. That's not counting the dress she's currently wearing, and several other outfits.

And here's another sight that isn't all too uncommon. This is Goki the hamster, trying, once again, to gnaw his way through the bars of his cage. They're metal this time, so I don't think he'll succeed, but you can see he's already worked the paint off.




At night, you can hear the gentle sounds of the breeze, the peaceful snores of sleeping children...and Goki trying to gain freedom with a judicious application of tooth to metal.

Who am I to deny him his dream?

Things That Made Me Laugh

Here are two great things I heard today.

One was from a student at the Academic Tournament where I was officiating this afternoon.

Question(asked by me): Spell the seven-letter word for the thing someone would "bury" if they wanted to end a dispute or argument.

The answer was supposed to be: H-A-T-C-H-E-T

A young lady buzzed in quickly and spelled: C-A-D-A-V-E-R!

Ummm. No, I don't think so. While that would definitely end the argument, it's not quite what they're looking for.

The other classic was from a certain person who shall remain nameless, but who was walking around town with our Junior High Youth Group this evening.

"Yep. Here's the exact place where I peed on Main street."

It doesn't get any better than this, folks!

This next line was from Mim when we went to the Wichita Mountains the other day.

She kept stopping on the trail to pick a green leaf from one of the scrubby oak trees and lay it carefully on the path.

Me: Mim, what are you doing?

Mim: I'm tricking people so they'll think a duck walked here.

What do you think? Tiny duck feet?



On the same trip I told Zaya that he shouldn't have made a certain jump from one rock to another, because he might have fallen and hurt himself.

He said, "Good thing I have my luck bar filled up!"

When questioned, he informed us that he has a luck bar in the palm of his right hand. When it's filled, life is easier. Specifically, when he asks me if he can play video games, I'll say yes.

Sounds to me like someone has already played waaaayyy too many video games!

Print on Print on Print on...

What can I say? She get's her sense of style from her mother.

The big mouth she gets from her father.

Except metaphorically. That would be me again.

Wichta Mountain Excursion

We went to the Wichita Mountains last Saturday, and it was wonderful. Exhausting, but wonderful. Sort of like parenting in general, now that I come to think of it.

We climbed Elk Mountain. Both kids did a great job, which is to say, neither had to be carried even once, and there were no major, or even minor, injuries. Success. Here they are on the peak.



I have a couple of posts planned for the kids individually. They were goofy. There was a troop of boy scouts on the peak, and their leader was telling them what a great job they had done and what a mighty accomplishment it was to get to the top of a mountain. Art said, "Do you think it ruined the power of his speech when they all saw a little four-year-old girl running around up there?" Probably. Funny though, you have to admit.

Then we went to visit the prairie dogs, of which I have no pictures. We stressed to the kids that they couldn't feed the prairie dogs, because it said so on all the signs. Then we ran into our neighbors and good friends from across the street, who were feeding prairie dogs. I prayed for a miracle, but God decided not to answer my plea, and Zaya informed the mother that, 'the sign said they weren't supposed to feed the prairie dogs.' right before we got away. Argh.

Then we took them to the Holy City for the first time. The last two times we went they were either closed, or we had too many people with us to make it a good idea. The Holy City is a replica of...mostly Jerusalem, with different buildings from the life of Christ. The kids loved it, and climbed all over, despite how many rocks they had climbed all morning.

Ah-Choo!

We took Zaya to the allergy specialist in the City today. It turns out that the poor little guy is allergic to just about everything, which I thought might be the case. Lots of trees, grasses, weeds, molds and pets. Including horses. Good thing he never really got into the whole "cowboy" thing.

Now comes the big question. The doctor there says that his allergies are "severe" and that the little otc antihistamines won't cut it. Which we knew. She recommends allergy shots.

Is it worth it though? They are expensive. Very, very expensive. It feels like maybe it's all just a bid for the money of worried parents.

So I want to know if any of our friends and family out there in internet land have had allergy shots (or your children) and can tell us if it's really worth the money. Do they work? Is it just a scam? Is it worth the pain of all the shots? Is it worth driving to the city a cajillion times for the first couple months?

Help!

Walt's Dark Side

The kids are running around playing Star Wars.

Zaya is Darth Maul



And Mim is Cinderella Darth Vader



Who must be a very, very confused individual, to say the least.

By the by, this is my 600th post. Yea me!

He is Risen

Screaming crowds call out his name
With shouts of joy and songs of praise
They honor and they marvel,
For they've waited all these years.

A quiet night of heavy dread
He kneels there, burdened, bows His head
They sit, they sleep, unknowing
As the angels wipe His tears.

Once again the crowds cry out
But now they jeer, they hate, they shout.
He bleeds, he prays, cries out, then dies.
Earth waits, dark, cold..and then it hears

One rumbling stone, one bright descending star
The cry of death, destroyed by Life,
Love's Avatar.

A Taste for the Spotlight

My son is not shy.

I've always known he wasn't shy, but I had further proof today.

We went to the nursing home this morning for the "Easter Parade". The Kindergarten and Pre-K from the local school sang two cute little songs about bunnies, and then they all listened to the Easter Story. Since my kids go to a different school, I wasn't going to take them this year, but my dear friend talked me into it, so we slapped on some dress clothes and ran up there.

They didn't really seem to mind that they weren't singing with the others, and they walked around saying "hi" to everyone afterwards. Granted, Zaya was saying it so quickly that the people didn't even have a chance to respond, and Mim was so quiet and shy that they probably didn't even hear her...but they did say "hi".

When Zaya came over to me and Granny (his great-grandma) he was singing something. The activities director heard him and said those fateful words, "You should go sing something for the other people." Well, that's all it took. I only had time to say "Sing Joyful, Joyful!" before he was gone, reaching for the microphone. (Because who knows what he would have chosen to sing if I hadn't specified. I can just see it, 'We all live in a yellow submarine...' at the top of his lungs.)

He belted out the Ode to Joy, and I'll admit that I loved hearing him sing it. OK, so pitch isn't exactly one of his strengths yet, but he put a lot of heart in it.

As I was talking to my friend afterward, I realized something. He probably would have done the exact same thing if he had no clothes on. He is not shy. At all.

And no, that's not all for the good. I never know what he's going to say to someone that he walks up to. He might tell them anything. Anything.

All that to say, "Mom, Dad. I'm sorry for my childhood."