tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-208063382024-03-20T17:53:45.740-07:00Peter and Debra's WorldDebrahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10250868095004712285noreply@blogger.comBlogger207125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20806338.post-77982328282661204472011-07-19T15:36:00.000-07:002011-07-19T16:24:32.911-07:00Becoming Catwoman<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiC0LRJMNhpH3qnpY3ZJfobppGQ58za4YtZCIyiXO_JpKgFnHRmfOD4gHAcN8MZfpkTHHW0B_5a5LflDaDvWzGGfYEnteRVft_w3bIpt850Brxf7jr3AjX2Io-W9oJ7ntv6Qswg/s320/cat-woman.jpg" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"><img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 250px; height: 319px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiC0LRJMNhpH3qnpY3ZJfobppGQ58za4YtZCIyiXO_JpKgFnHRmfOD4gHAcN8MZfpkTHHW0B_5a5LflDaDvWzGGfYEnteRVft_w3bIpt850Brxf7jr3AjX2Io-W9oJ7ntv6Qswg/s320/cat-woman.jpg" border="0" alt="" /></a><p class="MsoNormal">This is a story about the very mysterious, sudden plethora of cats we have, and has nothing to do with Batman.</p> <p class="MsoNormal"><o:p> </o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal">For the record, let me tell you my background with cats.</p> <p class="MsoNormal"><o:p> </o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal">As I was growing up, we never once had a cat. We didn’t need to, because our neighbors had cats, and the cats thought we were their extended family. My strongest cat memories involve a certain male cat named Razz, who was forever trying to sneak into our house. He would camp out on our front doormat, waiting for the door to crack open as we tried to sneak out, at which opportunity he would dart in through the door, run through the house, up the stairs, and hide under my parents’ king size bed. </p> <p class="MsoNormal"><o:p> </o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal">Then we would spend a good deal of time trying to coax out Razz, who never came, until we would be trying to pull him out, which usually involved some scratching or teeth. Suffice it to say, I have not-the-fondest memory of cats.</p> <p class="MsoNormal"><o:p> </o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal">Fast forward 25 years. When Peter and I moved to the country, we talked briefly about getting a “mouser.” Our slowness to act was partly because 1. I had bad memories of cats, and 2. I had enough small mouths to feed with just my little kids. Then we discovered that we had foxes, owls, a snake, hawks, and plenty of other wildlife to control any rodent population that might consider taking up residence.</p> <p class="MsoNormal"><o:p> </o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal">Everything went fine until we did construction 2 years ago and put in a pool. The owl left. The foxes left. Thankfully, the snake left. Apparently, the heavy machinery was not their style. We were sad to see them go. So far, everything but the owl and the snake have returned. </p> <p class="MsoNormal"><o:p> </o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal">Then we had flood season in the country this spring, and they water rose in the dike nearby, and one night I went in the garage and saw a RAT. I was petrified. I had never seen a rat this big (think R.O.U.S.) and it was vertically scaling a wall like nobody’s business. I screamed and ran inside. Peter was thrilled and ran to get a gun. I guess we see things differently.</p> <p class="MsoNormal"><o:p> </o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal">That’s when the cat talk got serious. </p> <p class="MsoNormal"><o:p> </o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal">Next thing I know I am at the pet store with Hannah, choosing a spayed, female, shelter cat. I spent $50. In return I got a mousehead every morning for the first few days (she ate the rest of the body), plenty of slain lizards, and not a trace of a rat since May 24, 2011 (the date of acquisition).</p> <p class="MsoNormal"><o:p> </o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjE0KZABUYe0P2h0iNdajxSrHN6TSQwl3n5HozEA3wzMSmWNJ8gKio3OR9G68t53BBBkk4E_wrzCZ9JEAh5RuizUCse7crC_psnscfFgMdVqJq-yJL21yNommnxL1vGIWLfhFRV/s1600/IMG_9983.JPG" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"><img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 213px; height: 320px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjE0KZABUYe0P2h0iNdajxSrHN6TSQwl3n5HozEA3wzMSmWNJ8gKio3OR9G68t53BBBkk4E_wrzCZ9JEAh5RuizUCse7crC_psnscfFgMdVqJq-yJL21yNommnxL1vGIWLfhFRV/s320/IMG_9983.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5631202292112846098" /></a>Here is Snow. We love her.</p><p class="MsoNormal">Then we noticed that another cat seemed to be visiting a lot. It was a Siamese cat, who helped itself to Snow’s food in the garage, via the cat door, and was extremely arrogant.<span style="mso-spacerun:yes"> </span>Let’s just say I wasn’t thrilled. Dumb cat! Don’t you know we only have “service animals” here? Stealing our poor, innocent, mouse-killing cat’s food! Go find another home! We could see it had a collar, but when we tried to get near her she just took off.</p> <p class="MsoNormal"><o:p> </o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal">Then one day Peter was in the garage attempting to rebuild a very sad weed-eater. He thought he heard mewing, but ignored it.</p> <p class="MsoNormal"><o:p> </o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal">We went out that night. We saw a play. When we got home, we were greeted with this letter from Hannah. </p><p class="MsoNormal"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiOZCtlrOYIZfRYi-BJy92gGTdjSq8kmlkY-3YbjtKYdRS5rDKxFmYvR8J5Wba6ejrlB8pR5Ge6OnWZvW_Lr1EWVvLYR5ECJ2iCiW_9dW00INHLb0N0pbUfVl-zgqNeANw6182O/s1600/CIMG6549.JPG" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 300px; height: 400px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiOZCtlrOYIZfRYi-BJy92gGTdjSq8kmlkY-3YbjtKYdRS5rDKxFmYvR8J5Wba6ejrlB8pR5Ge6OnWZvW_Lr1EWVvLYR5ECJ2iCiW_9dW00INHLb0N0pbUfVl-zgqNeANw6182O/s400/CIMG6549.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5631204165952652514" /></a></p><p class="MsoNormal">Here is the transcription:</p><p class="MsoNormal"></p><blockquote><p class="MsoNormal"><i>Dear Mommy,</i></p><p class="MsoNormal"><i>We have KITTENS in our garage! Mr. Siamese is now officially Mrs. Siamese! Now we have two cats - and one being SIAMESE! The one I saw was a gray-and-white bicolor. Papa saw two different ones.</i></p><p class="MsoNormal"><i>Love, Hannah</i></p><p class="MsoNormal"><i>P.S. I told you spaying was ridiculous.</i></p></blockquote><p class="MsoNormal"></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><o:p> </o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal">Suddenly, we have 3 kittens. So cute! Even though I can’t stand to touch a cat, these were so CUTE! </p> <p class="MsoNormal"><o:p> </o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal">So Mr. Siamese is really Mrs. Siamese. She’s nursing the kittens. Awfully cute…I’m sure someone is looking for this cat and her babies.</p><p class="MsoNormal"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg_o4MAsbAW73ApMNKpOdP_foAzzhNYFlxxd-eZaby8lb5huPQiFqE3hVwXU-IEsqGTNNl_twjg658p8jo3kZhlwG1Hg9SHshr3RnI-qxvSsGx2xTlmbC75_CzCnCi0ObpG9yER/s1600/IMAG0308+%25282%2529.jpg" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"><img style="float:right; margin:0 0 10px 10px;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 191px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg_o4MAsbAW73ApMNKpOdP_foAzzhNYFlxxd-eZaby8lb5huPQiFqE3hVwXU-IEsqGTNNl_twjg658p8jo3kZhlwG1Hg9SHshr3RnI-qxvSsGx2xTlmbC75_CzCnCi0ObpG9yER/s320/IMAG0308+%25282%2529.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5631203269686968162" /></a> </p> <p class="MsoNormal"><o:p> </o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal">This goes on for a few days, and Mrs. Siamese gets used to us, and lets Hannah pet her enough for Hannah to get a look at her collar – which has no tags. What?! OK, we’ll care for her since she’s nursing. We put out lots of food and water. I remember what nursing is like – you eat and drink a lot!</p> <p class="MsoNormal"><o:p> </o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal">I asked Hannah if the Siamese and her kittens have names. I suggest Marie, Berlioz, and <st1:city st="on"><st1:place st="on">Toulouse</st1:place></st1:city>, the names of the kitties in the movie The Aristocats. (French names sound so exotic, you know.) She replies that she’s afraid to name them because she doesn’t want to get too attached in case we have to return them to someone. Wow, I think to myself, that is a mature thought for my 8 year old.</p> <p class="MsoNormal"><o:p> </o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal">The next morning she tells me the kittens are named Nicole, Olivia, and Penelope. She then proceeds to write a hilarious letter to her pen-pal and close friend, Kiah, on the way to church. </p> <p class="MsoNormal"><o:p> </o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal">Here is the letter.</p><p class="MsoNormal"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhDifeIVuuMa-AExY1_2FijD0u7UzMzgh9SvfUbes2Tif7SvsDKUZpsHh2dO_o66B9TKvDhhPL1q5jKqZUXAIU3MU8TbZUT8Nf4-cryOQ2qWsDSFWfG2nJ9m0SQijvIcefFjIEX/s1600/IMAG0312.jpg" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 239px; height: 400px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhDifeIVuuMa-AExY1_2FijD0u7UzMzgh9SvfUbes2Tif7SvsDKUZpsHh2dO_o66B9TKvDhhPL1q5jKqZUXAIU3MU8TbZUT8Nf4-cryOQ2qWsDSFWfG2nJ9m0SQijvIcefFjIEX/s400/IMAG0312.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5631204453424568210" /></a></p><p class="MsoNormal">Here is the transcription in case you can’t read it.</p><p class="MsoNormal"></p><blockquote><p class="MsoNormal"><i>Dear Kiah,</i></p><p class="MsoNormal"><i>It turn[s] out we have three kittens! The owner hasn't shown up yet, so I have found some names that I like: and here they are: Nicole, Olivia, and Penelope. You won't believe how Mommy was "Oh, how cute" she said, "Oh, Hannah, I just want to have another baby just to see them!" (My number one and deluxe excuse for spaying.) The big girl's name is Edith. Get it? We named them to spell this: NOPE!</i></p><p class="MsoNormal"><i>Love, Hannah</i></p></blockquote><p class="MsoNormal"></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><o:p> </o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal">N.O.P.E.? </p><p class="MsoNormal">I'm not making this up! I couldn't. </p> <p class="MsoNormal"><o:p> </o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal">That was Sunday. Monday brought us 3 more kittens. </p> <p class="MsoNormal"><o:p> </o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal">My parents rolled in the gate with their windows down, and noticed hawks crying and circling the wood pile. As they slowed down, they heard loud mewing. They told the kids playing outside to check the woodpile, that the kittens had somehow gotten out of the garage. </p> <p class="MsoNormal"><o:p> </o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal">Yes, there were 3 more. When we retrieved them and put them “back” the original three popped out of their hideout in the garage. They are the same size, and same set of markings. They’ve got to be Mrs. Siamese’s kittens as well. When she returned from her prowling around, she started nursing them all. </p> <p class="MsoNormal"><o:p> </o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal">Folks, today is Tuesday, and I have 8 cats. Less that 2 months ago, I had no cats. I am not a cat person! Still I found myself at Petsmart today, buying kitten food, and inquiring about spaying and neutering. The last thing I need is even one more cat. Did you know that it costs around $350 to spay or neuter just one single cat? I have seven that need it! I guess Peter and I are going to have to figure this out ASAP. </p> <p class="MsoNormal"><o:p> </o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal">Somehow chickens are so much easier.</p><p class="MsoNormal">P.S. Any name suggestions for the newest three are appreciated. Something to go with the letters N.O.P.E. would be good.</p> <p class="MsoNormal"><o:p> </o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><o:p> </o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><o:p> </o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><o:p> </o:p></p>Debrahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10250868095004712285noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20806338.post-73372853574400681012011-07-08T17:11:00.000-07:002011-07-08T17:26:20.682-07:00Inspirational CookingWhat's for dinner tonight? Tonight we're having Pizza Braids. I'm kind of excited about it. I'm embarrassed to say that I'm in my 30's and have just for the first time attempted to make whole wheat pizza crust from scratch. It just seems like something every good housewife should be able to do. It's rising nicely right now. I'll admit, I totally faked the whole kneading thing and watched a video on YouTube to see how it's done. I know my mom taught me this skill, but it's been a while...<div><br /></div><div>One thing I've realized about myself is that I am not a great cook. My family doesn't complain, they eat happily, but let's just say I have a long way to go towards gourmet. I would love to be a gourmet cook. I always tell Peter that I want to take some cooking classes, or just go to one or two of his CLE courses where they have classes like that for bored spouses, but I don't have time to take a class, and even if I could go to his courses with him, what would I do with the kids while I went to the class? </div><div><br /></div><div>Today, I just had fun in the kitchen. My mom took the girls to her house for some special time with Mimi, and I had just the boys here. Two of them were sleeping(!) so it was just Daniel and me in the kitchen. He sat there eating every scrap I would toss at him, and I made dough, cut up pizza fixings, etc. We chatted and I created. It really helps to have a friend in the kitchen! Often times, Hannah helps me cook, but it seems like I have at least 4 others in there with us, and I'm on such alert to make sure that someone doesn't pour an entire box of baking soda into something or give the baby eggshells that I'm just focused on safety instead of the love of cooking.</div><div><br /></div><div>I have my friend Jenn at <a href="http://www.sassychicken.com/">The Sassy Chicken</a> to thank for her post about pizza braids. She also linked another site that is really inspirational, <a href="http://fortheloveofcooking-recipes.blogspot.com/">For the Love of Cooking</a>. If I could just cook like that woman, OR take photos like she does, I would be really, really happy. I love cooking with fresh, organic ingredients that are ripe in that season. Tonight's pizza braids are getting cilantro from my herb garden. </div><div><br /></div><div>I hope it turns out!</div>Debrahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10250868095004712285noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20806338.post-80994623181615058972011-04-12T14:58:00.001-07:002011-04-12T15:07:46.393-07:00I'm Ga-Ga Over My Attorney!<span class="Apple-style-span" >I just want you all to know that today is International Be Kind to Lawyers Day. I love how their website says that this unsung holiday is strategically placed between April Fools Day (April 1), and Tax Day (April 15). It's very appropriate. And since my husband is an attorney, and both of our fathers are attorneys, I'm singing out "Happy International Be Kind to Lawyers Day!"</span><div><span class="Apple-style-span" ><br /></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" >Check this <a href="http://www.bekindtolawyers.com/page1.php">website</a> for more information, or as they say "<b>For press inquiries, please call (314) 821-8700 or simply stick your head out your window and shout, "I'm ga-ga over my attorney!"</b></span></div><div><b><span class="Apple-style-span" ><br /></span></b></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" >I love this. Here is how you can participate:</span></div><div><b><span class="Apple-style-span" ><br /></span></b></div><div><b><span class="Apple-style-span" ><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-size: 11px; color: rgb(128, 128, 125); font-weight: normal; "><span style="font-size: medium; "><span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0); ">The best part of INTERNATIONAL BE KIND TO LAWYERS DAY is that you're the judge of exactly how much you participate. Here is a brief list of idea starters to get your legal kindness flowing.<br /><br />- Take your favorite lawyer out to breakfast or lunch (make sure it's not billable!).</span></span><o:p></o:p><span style="font-size: medium; "><span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0); "><br /><br />- Send your lawyer a "just because" greeting card or a bouquet of flowers.<br /><br />- Switch your ring tone to the "dah-dah" sound from NBC's "Law & Order."</span></span><o:p></o:p><span style="font-size: medium; "><span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0); "><br /><br />- Abstain from telling lawyer jokes for 24 hours.</span></span><o:p></o:p><span style="font-size: medium; "><span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0); "><br /><br />- If you can't abstain, tell your funniest lawyer joke but switch out the lawyer with your profession. (I bet it's still funny.)</span></span><o:p></o:p><span style="font-size: medium; "><span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0); "><br /><br />- If you accidentally say something wrong or inappropriate on this day, just follow it up with the words, "Strike that from the record." Then continue talking as if nothing happened. </span></span><o:p></o:p><span style="font-size: medium; "><span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0); "><br /><br />- Salute the flag as you walk or drive by your local courthouse.</span></span><o:p></o:p><span style="font-size: medium; "><span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0); "><br /><br />- Watch your favorite legal drama and pretend you're the one delivering the powerful closing argument. Some suggested films: "The Verdict," "To Kill A Mockingbird," "A Few Good Men" and "With Justice For All."<br /><br />- Do some simple repairs around the house with a gavel instead of your trusty hammer.<br /><br />- Try to slip words like "I object!" or "You're out of order!" into your everyday conversations.<br /><br />- Try to write up your own Articles of Organization for an LLC or draft your own will. See? It's harder than it looks.<br /><br />- Take notes at a meeting on a legal pad. Don't you just feel smarter looking at the glorious yellow hue of that 8-1/2" x 14" pad?<br /><br />- Go ahead, be creative. What are some ways you can be kind to lawyers today? Be sue to let us know so that we can add your ideas to our list.</span></span><o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-size: 11px; color: rgb(128, 128, 125); font-weight: normal; "><o:p></o:p></p><span style="font-size: medium; color: rgb(128, 128, 125); font-weight: normal; "><p class="MsoNormal"><o:p><span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0); "> </span></o:p><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: 16px; color: rgb(0, 0, 0); "><b><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(128, 128, 125); font-weight: normal; "><span style="font-size: medium; "></span></span></b></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="display: inline !important; "><b><span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0); "><b>Entertainment Weekly</b> posted their list of the Top 15 On-Screen Lawyers. What do you think? http://www.ew.com/ew/gallery/0,,20189419,00.html</span></b></p></span><p></p></span></b></div>Debrahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10250868095004712285noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20806338.post-44257009790164596062011-01-25T14:56:00.000-08:002011-01-25T15:18:40.028-08:00The Listmaker Turns IllustratorIf you know our family, you have probably already guessed by the title who this post features. Yep, the oldest daughter.<br /><br />She is a listmaker. She likes to know what the rules are. She likes to make the rules. A word to the wise...she doesn't always play by the rules. At a recent Scrabble match, I couldn't figure out how she came up with so many uber creative words when she would occasionally let me see her tile bar, until a few Scrabble tiles slipped out of the edge of her sleeve onto the table! Hannah!<br /><br />She also took the initiative to surreptitiously hide every last one of her father's birthday presents earlier this month. She did however, make a very nice treasure map for him to locate each present in the house. Then she hung it on the mantle so he could reference it easier. Thoughtful, eh? Notice that we still have no front teeth. (I love this.)<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEioeinkbUXQG60G-MxrxMLKVJFRm9vDE-Y26onF82u6afr3W2frJ9az3zH1y8MSmQnfW3-inp-4-csKrBF_K8YLi7mg-Vj61fv9G89mnz2PbHLPFjK8ipdhAZ1lK_f89ds_0vd_/s1600/IMG_8340.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 214px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEioeinkbUXQG60G-MxrxMLKVJFRm9vDE-Y26onF82u6afr3W2frJ9az3zH1y8MSmQnfW3-inp-4-csKrBF_K8YLi7mg-Vj61fv9G89mnz2PbHLPFjK8ipdhAZ1lK_f89ds_0vd_/s320/IMG_8340.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5566263707157027522" /></a><br />Here is something I found recently in a construction paper notebook. It is a list of school rules, complete with illustrations. I'm not going to post all the artwork, because it takes a long time to upload.<div><br /></div><div>Here's the list of rules...<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhxgBjtkpVpmoWtHYeYMGHhL6msp28dchEEF3Ag8LGe43uzXZEu8Lzy-u_-wxa5_n6S3wnM2jPu8JAE4Df2mFoWP2qAysf5tk6dldfhOqYEAq56oqwm6l71-oRe3QenPbZqGTSl/s1600/CIMG6530.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhxgBjtkpVpmoWtHYeYMGHhL6msp28dchEEF3Ag8LGe43uzXZEu8Lzy-u_-wxa5_n6S3wnM2jPu8JAE4Df2mFoWP2qAysf5tk6dldfhOqYEAq56oqwm6l71-oRe3QenPbZqGTSl/s320/CIMG6530.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5566264347013069378" /></a><div>...and illustrations...</div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi1mW_LJa4XyiX_ApH8FoAW-B-fF1ZIx71xnZWQLoaCglzsMr9HExWE0MA6GN9Ivl1zh6tcg_OoZtAEOb_3itng5y4JlfsrakskEuGSxOWRzVqomvp4okZ-aXeBRpg1L_Y0yLav/s1600/CIMG6526.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi1mW_LJa4XyiX_ApH8FoAW-B-fF1ZIx71xnZWQLoaCglzsMr9HExWE0MA6GN9Ivl1zh6tcg_OoZtAEOb_3itng5y4JlfsrakskEuGSxOWRzVqomvp4okZ-aXeBRpg1L_Y0yLav/s320/CIMG6526.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5566264715599410258" /></a><div><br /></div><div>...and translation:</div><div><br /></div><div>Class Room [Rules:]</div><div><br /></div><div>1. No fancy ribbons on your pant buckles.</div><div>2. No smoking allowed!</div><div>3. No reading books except at storytime.</div><div>4. No eating or drinking except for an experiment.</div><div>5. No alcohol.</div><div>6. No high heels.</div><div>7. No play swords.</div><div>8. No pets.</div><div>9. No playing instruments until music time.</div><div>10. Do not play or splash the paint.</div><div>11. No reading books snuggled into school books.</div><div>12. Boys: No bullying.</div><div>13. Girls: No bragging about your dresses.</div><div>14. No night lights allowed.</div><div>15. No funny noises.</div><div>16. Sorry, we do not take visitors.</div><div>17. Don't wear club shirts.</div><div><br /></div><div>You'd think our school was run like the military! I don't know where she gets this stuff. I'm just her mom.</div></div>Debrahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10250868095004712285noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20806338.post-66301154274449555942010-12-02T15:54:00.000-08:002010-12-02T16:07:59.845-08:00Table MannersI think we're the only family out there who hasn't mastered table manners, but we're working on it. <br /><br />The other night we were correcting one child's table manners, and Hannah exclaimed "There are SOOO many rules! I just can't keep track of them all!" <br /><br />It wasn't long afterward that I found the following posted on the wall next to the table. Apparently, she made a list of as many things as she could think of. <br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj5oKdLk7HtDBNVhDS_X9FDDhR9YEc3CV4Xie7r-RpVllxgAqgfGkVxGjDS5EMxlXnkwNTimNdmhep7kQ-vaGNXpmy5oqcrAajlkoLoHLcCwmI8FVmhpDNXz8Cfnt150CI1JpdJ/s1600/CIMG6348.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj5oKdLk7HtDBNVhDS_X9FDDhR9YEc3CV4Xie7r-RpVllxgAqgfGkVxGjDS5EMxlXnkwNTimNdmhep7kQ-vaGNXpmy5oqcrAajlkoLoHLcCwmI8FVmhpDNXz8Cfnt150CI1JpdJ/s320/CIMG6348.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5546240381134603698" /></a><br />Here is a transcription:<br /><br />TABLE RULES<br />1. Children (12 and under) cannot talk [when food is] on their plate.<br />2. No interrupting.<br />3. No touching the mirror.<br />4. No water spitting.<br />5. No talking with your mouth full.<br />6. No eating fork foods with your hands.<br />7. No food playing.<br />8. The one you touch is the one you take.<br />9. Toddlers (3 and under) cannot pour liquid.<br />10. No complaining about your food.<br />11. Don't add too much salt and butter.<br />12. Ask for everything you get.<br />13. Say please and thank you.<br />14. If you might fall asleep, excuse yourself.<br />15. No toys except centerpieces.<br />16. No books except centerpieces.<br />17. No teasing.<br />18. No burping.<br />19. Chew with your lips closed.<br />20. Keep babies older than nine months in a high chair.<br />21. No nursing at the table.<br />22. No being rude.<br />23. No mocking.<br />24. Don't steal food.<br />25. No hitting.<br /><br />Does she have a career in law, law enforcement, or politics ahead of her?Debrahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10250868095004712285noreply@blogger.com6tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20806338.post-52946450196976410072010-10-17T21:06:00.001-07:002010-10-17T21:20:23.424-07:00Best Friends<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjymOWym8F_oZ6rseNl4uhmkfsqLfahawghaeRgoGgzzuKkIoEmUY4gY_GCfR62upE3InpfjOIuT63KDI-eaxMC6IFiGVEV6yyFHqTzZfs7rKAcGv32bJJmvmaHFog4Xxk1esfU/s1600/IMG_6163.JPG"><img style="float:center; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 267px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjymOWym8F_oZ6rseNl4uhmkfsqLfahawghaeRgoGgzzuKkIoEmUY4gY_GCfR62upE3InpfjOIuT63KDI-eaxMC6IFiGVEV6yyFHqTzZfs7rKAcGv32bJJmvmaHFog4Xxk1esfU/s400/IMG_6163.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5529233212451453378" /></a> <br /><br />Tonight while doing the dishes, Hannah asked Daniel "Do you have a best friend?"<br /><br />Somehow this was not a question I had ever thought to ask my 6 year old boy. I knew that Hannah had a best friend, but she's a girl. It's different.<br /><br />There was a long pause.<br /><br />"Daniel, did you hear the question?" I asked<br /><br />"Yes."<br /><br />"Buddy, who is your best friend?" Hannah asked again<br /><br />"Is it Hannah?" I asked, thinking that he had probably never thought about it himself.<br /><br />Another long pause.<br /><br />And then, as if it had just dawned on him, he said quietly "Caleb." <br /><br />And my heart melted. It's a dream come true to have your children call each other best friends, especially when the one asked is speaking of their 4 year old little brother. I only wish that Caleb had been in the room to hear when Daniel said it. Caleb absolutely loves Daniel and looks up to him, copying him in everything. It is a beautiful evening here. My heart is still warm.Debrahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10250868095004712285noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20806338.post-63618978703501415262010-10-15T14:48:00.000-07:002010-10-15T15:34:21.767-07:00Peace, Dude.I've gotten a number of emails from people from readers far and hear about a <a href="http://peteranddebra.blogspot.com/2010/07/abby-is-21-months-now-and-is-bundle-of.html">post</a> I wrote a few months ago that mentioning a biblical way to help your children resolve their own differences. I've been responding individually, because I didn't know how to insert a link until today. I just spent several minutes of desperate searching, and of course, found it totally easy - as long as you think like Blogger. Anyway, let me know if the links don't work.<br /><br />I had originally seen a link by a friend on Facebook to a post to <a href="http://raisingolives.com/">Raising Olives</a>, and I went over to investigate. Folks, I am barely making it with 5 kids, so I figure if a woman has 8 kids and she finds the time to blog and run her family too, she must be worth a few minutes of reading! In this case, I think it was a providential find, as I was really blessed by her post about <a href="http://raisingolives.com/2009/10/solving-sibbling-squabbles/">Solving Sibling Squabbles</a>. (If I'm doing overkill on the links, it's because I'm trying to repeat the process a few times so I don't forget.)<br /><br />By way of update on the results of our using a Biblical approach to help our children solve their differences, I can tell you that it has really worked for our 6 and 7 year old children, and to some extent with our 4 year old. Conflicts between our 6 and 7 year old kids are being resolved regularly without parental oversight. Conflicts between either the 6 or 7 year old with a 4 year old sometimes need a little oversight. Conflicts that involve the 2 year old ALWAYS need oversight, because well, toddlers don't reason very well. I honestly think that is just a developmental issue, and that they'll get it as long as we teach them, and stick with it.<br /><br />Peace, Dude. Let me know how it goes.Debrahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10250868095004712285noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20806338.post-45146381647591794012010-08-29T16:00:00.001-07:002010-08-29T16:53:37.048-07:00Daddy and the Toe Volcano<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiDORisM_TDWeN2-OsgoZqd5g8BrStA06WQn5khHfMf2XHIjCmzghjA2YTSyPQBhPlhNF92hwSubFIV1G-mUeSv16x5oCegsZk4zvWSBvFxkgx9Ekjng9YlUGtPCSfVY0MYElHn/s1600/CIMG6272.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiDORisM_TDWeN2-OsgoZqd5g8BrStA06WQn5khHfMf2XHIjCmzghjA2YTSyPQBhPlhNF92hwSubFIV1G-mUeSv16x5oCegsZk4zvWSBvFxkgx9Ekjng9YlUGtPCSfVY0MYElHn/s320/CIMG6272.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5510970845145095890" /></a><br /><br />This is the story of Daddy and the Toe Volcano, which could also be called "Peter, the Best Daddy in the World."<br /><br />This morning Daniel came into our room with a very bloody big toe. Apparently, he had a corner of his toenail too long, and it had snapped backwards, but not snapped off. He was tough, and wanted a bandaid. It was gross. <br /><br />I turned away at the sight of it. I set him on the counter by the sink to wash it, but I was just plain repulsed, so I asked if Daddy wanted to help. Daddy came up, and he turned away in horror too. It looked painful. He told Daniel that we were going to need to put some hydrogen peroxide on it.<br /><br />"Will it hurt, Daddy?" Daniel asked.<br /><br />"Maybe a little, just a sting, while it gets the bad bacteria out." Peter replied.<br /><br />"Not as bad as a bee sting, Buddy." I added.<br /><br />"Yes, and it will do some foaming...like a volcano!" Peter said.<br /><br />And that is when the crisis became fun, like 'a spoonful of sugar helps the medicine go down.' Thank goodness for Peter.<br /><br />Yesterday was Daniel's 6th birthday. We only have friend birthday parties every 3rd year for each kid (3,6,9...) and this was Daniel's year. He had his volcano birthday party yesterday. He and Papa spent a week making a very awesome volcano which they had erupt during the party, and we had rootbeer floats that ran over instead of birthday cake. <br /><br />So when Daddy mentioned the possibility of a toe volcano, it was like he had suddenly been BLESSED with this injury!<br /><br />Peter gingerly put the peroxide on his toe. It foamed up nastily, complete with Daddy making volcano sound effects. Daniel got in on the sound effects. And before we knew it, the toe volcano had erupted, and was done. <br /><br />"Can we do it again later, Daddy?" he asked.<br /><br />"Yes, probably twice a day, until it is safe enough to trim the nail. We'll keep it covered with a bandaid in between times." Peter said.<br /><br />It made me so glad to be his wife. I would have never thought of that! I'm sure he is the best Daddy in the world.Debrahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10250868095004712285noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20806338.post-36999488964244582422010-08-06T09:58:00.001-07:002010-08-06T10:16:18.241-07:00Hot Dog<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhRRbebERaJe0oBdt2ldCpgrdikZmjUhXdjhQm6MD8WnfXYiX7ZRb8Hh2JRQESpNQclN6oaEqqnvpuShyNZJU4CDY-DHkFYLhZkPV2k9dbzHcAEof1AFvrW-jGLp0f3ARkjSYQH/s1600/IMG_6874.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 214px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhRRbebERaJe0oBdt2ldCpgrdikZmjUhXdjhQm6MD8WnfXYiX7ZRb8Hh2JRQESpNQclN6oaEqqnvpuShyNZJU4CDY-DHkFYLhZkPV2k9dbzHcAEof1AFvrW-jGLp0f3ARkjSYQH/s320/IMG_6874.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5502344815856416866" /></a><br /><br />Last night during dinner Hannah looked up and exclaimed "There's a four- footed animal on our property!" Since we don't have any animals with 4 feet, I ran to window to get a look.<br /><br />This is what we saw. Some neighbor's dog wandered in the gate and was taking a swim in the pond. That's one hot dog. When I took the picture he just looked at me like "Thanks for having this pool, lady. I needed it!" Then he jumped out and headed out the gate. There is never a dull moment here.<br /><br />When Peter got home from I told him about it and he wanted to know if I had turned the waterfall on to scare him out (the switch for the waterfall is in the house). Why didn't I think of that? Not that I wanted to scare him away, but it would have been pretty funny to see the dog's response!Debrahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10250868095004712285noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20806338.post-39875668825910582392010-07-19T14:38:00.000-07:002010-07-19T15:10:36.326-07:00<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgBL6FOQYP4uSbwHlndQGj4RyKNtf-Yoobx6lHN7iDssOl93EN85ITLSahczw8aTC5XrM3Q7RhwIXSmhL9SC8-xiIc8ijh-Dq1ksAAdorgdFXd-0lScN5iNlAFEnpR3LAjJOxck/s1600/IMG_5867_1.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 214px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgBL6FOQYP4uSbwHlndQGj4RyKNtf-Yoobx6lHN7iDssOl93EN85ITLSahczw8aTC5XrM3Q7RhwIXSmhL9SC8-xiIc8ijh-Dq1ksAAdorgdFXd-0lScN5iNlAFEnpR3LAjJOxck/s320/IMG_5867_1.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5495738320661660050" /></a><br /><br />Abby is 21 months now, and is a bundle of joy. This morning my heart melted when we were having our family worship time, and she volunteered "I want be wise!...I want make Mommy Daddy happy!" <br /><br />As much as my heart is so pleased that she wants to by wise, and to please her father and mother, I couldn't help thinking of how it would make God happy if we as adults were striving to "Be wise! Make Heavenly Father happy!" <br /><br />Recently, Peter and I have struggled with how to steer our children towards sibling harmony. The 7 seater minivan is full, and we're just going to have to learn to get along in that amount of space for the time being. As a parent, I've felt like I'm just stumbling around in the dark trying to figure out how to get family harmony back.<br /><br />Then I saw a blog that I've never seen before and it was talking about applying principles from Matthew 18:15-17 to peacemaking within a family. I showed it to Peter, and we both wondered why we had never thought of it ourselves. I don't feel qualified to go into much depth on it right now, because I'm still trying to figure out myself, but the next morning we read Matthew 18 for our family devotions, and talked about settling conflicts between siblings peaceably and biblically. We even did some role playing, which the kids found both funny and helpful.<br /><br />Then this morning Abby declares that she wants to be wise, even if just to please us. Talk about out of the mouths of babes...They teach me so much.Debrahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10250868095004712285noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20806338.post-23139746863961240362010-07-12T21:32:00.000-07:002010-07-12T21:38:58.175-07:00Samuel<table cellspacing="0" cellpadding="0" border="0" bgcolor="#ffffff"><tr><td><a href="http://www.smilebox.com/play/4d5463344e7a59794d544d3d0d0a&blogview=true&campaign=blog_playback_link" target="_blank"><img width="386" height="303" alt="Click to play this Smilebox photo album: Here He Is!" src="http://www.smilebox.com/snap/4d5463344e7a59794d544d3d0d0a.jpg" style="border: medium none ;"/></a></td></tr><tr><td><a href="http://www.smilebox.com/?partner=smilebox&campaign=blog_snapshot" target="_blank"><img width="386" height="46" alt="Create your own photo album - Powered by Smilebox" src="http://www.smilebox.com/globalImages/blogInstructions/blogLogoSmileboxSmall.gif" style="border: medium none ;"/></a></td></tr><tr><td align="center">Another <a href="http://www.smilebox.com/all/" target="_blank">photo album</a> by Smilebox</td></tr></table><br /><br />Here are some photos of our precious boy. You will need to maximize the screen to see it correctly. Samuel is the perfect addition to our family!Debrahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10250868095004712285noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20806338.post-14200862981308177802010-06-21T11:41:00.000-07:002010-06-21T12:18:39.004-07:00Dirty LaundryWhoa Nelly!!! Let's just say a lot has happened since I last blogged. For starters, we had a baby, and he's now more than 6 weeks old. His name is Samuel Lorne, a family name on Peter's side of the family. It really doesn't do him justice to write without putting a picture of how adorable he is, so I'll have to write again and post pictures - when I am home.<br /><br />Today - I am not. I am actually nextdoor at my parents' house (they are out of town - hope we can keep it clean!) with my 5 kids, and 4 loads of laundry, because my washing machine has stopped. Believe it or not, I actually packed up the car with the hampers and children and drove next door, because it was too much for me to ferry back and forth by myself. I'm sitting here enjoying the sounds and smells of clothes being washed, while letting the bigger kids watch Bob the Builder, and the little kids play next to me. Abby is systematically emptying every toy consisting of 30 pieces or more, and Samuel is contently watching a singing frog light up, because that's about all a newborn can be entertained with.<br /><br />Things are so busy here. Sometimes I try to estimate when things will slow down and be more manageable, and so far I'm coming up with something when I'm in my forties. Please tell me it will be sooner! Life with 5 is not much more complicated than life with 4, except for nursing and nap schedules. Life without my washing machine is significantly more complicated by having #5 though, as he creates a lot of dirty laundry, besides our regular laundry for small children living in the country (read "dirt"), and an increasing volume of pool towels (which is a good thing).<br /><br />Aside from increased laundry and the inability to wash it, the only thing I had not forseen about having another family member is that our car has shrunk. We have a very fine Honda Oddyssey that seats 7. I love this car, and that's saying something for someone who very reluctantly went from a really fun little Acura to a Mommy mini-van. Last night we had a very serious talk about a full-size van. This is the one change I am having trouble with. We can't get an SUV (we already shopped them), because we have so many car seats that we would have to take at least one out every time we wanted to go anywhere, just to climb into the back seat. As much as I am reluctant to have a giant van, that's too much inconvenience even for me. After taking a 4 hour trip yesterday (2 hours each way), a van is looking REAL GOOD. There is just no room left in there, and the kids need a little bit of space. Caleb finally fell asleep - on Hannah. She shoved him off, he started crying, and this woke up Samuel. The chain reaction continued until I think all 7 of us had weighed in on the issue. Yes, I need a van, and a washing machine.<br /><br />The repairman will be here late this afternoon. I won't be here then, so I'm hoping he can fix it without needing any more information. Peter thinks I just wore it out. I looked up the average life expectancy for washers (no actuarial tables, just the web) and it said with an average of 400 washes per year they will last approximately 14 years. Ours is 7 years old, but I think I wash approximately 650-700 loads per year. Hmmm...We'll see what the repairman says.<br /><br />Well, I must dash off now and make some lunch for the happy crowd. It's nice to be out of the house for a few hours, blogging and listening to my baby coo. I don't even mind have 4 loads to fold, because it is CLEAN laundry. How nice.Debrahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10250868095004712285noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20806338.post-41582489050045141012010-05-04T21:16:00.000-07:002010-05-04T21:23:25.580-07:00Step-by-Step Guide to Labor - by Hannah, age 71. Have the baby get ready<br />2. Get ready<br />3. Have the kids get ready<br />4. Tell the baby he's almost ready<br />5. Tell the children about labor<br />6. Check baby sup[p]lies<br />7. Decide what to pack<br />8. Pile packing things<br />9. Check the things you need<br />10. Correct anything needed<br />11. Check it off!<br />12. Start commanding<br />13. Settle unkindness<br />14. Settle any argu[e]ments<br />15. Tell baby to be still<br />16. Tell kids to be quiet<br />17. Stop any contractions<br />18. Say goodbye and kiss/hug<br />19. Take out suitcases<br />20. Pack for the hospital<br />21. Drive to the hospital<br />22. Labor<br /><br /><em>Glad we got that settled now...</em>Debrahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10250868095004712285noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20806338.post-90004669872190166972010-04-22T15:47:00.000-07:002010-04-22T16:29:03.201-07:00Your Ways or My Ways?The past couple of days have not gone according to my plan. Yesterday we woke up to find all of our hens had been killed by something (probably a raccoon), and the chicks are missing. Not only was it disappointing and frustrating to all of us, but it was a major cause of grief to one little girl here in the house who cried for probably 2 hours. On the practical side, we ended up not even cracking open a book for school because trying to bury 4 hens in the rain, with mud up to my ankles, kids crying and mud flying, and chickens in various pieces is not real easy when you are only 2 weeks out from your due date, and you're digging through the contractions. Ugh. All the kids - and me - had to have a bath or shower immediately following.<br /><br />Then today I got Peter out the door for work, and promptly came down with a migraine headache. Thank goodness my parents are nearby and were available to come and read quietly while I waited for some pretty powerful coffee to hit my head and clear my vision. When I could finally see and walk around again, I sent the kids outside and they got literally stuck in the mud. My mom went outside just in time to find Daniel with a hoe about to "chip" Hannah and Caleb out of the mud. Caleb was truly stuck in something like quicksand mud and could not move. Thank goodness my mom rescued him from what would certainly have been bloodied ankles, as he mysteriously decided to wear his crocs into the mud, instead of rain boots. Again, no school today.<br /><br />Then again, the last few months have not been according to my plan. In December, the Monday after Christmas, my Nana became suddenly so sick that she was hospitalized. She never went home. She went to a convalescent home, and made it 6 weeks - dying on Valentine's Day. Largely due to the stress of her passing, but also many other factors, before she was even buried the next week I went into preterm labor at 29 weeks. Not good. I was put on medication to stop my labor and told to rest. Rest? Dr.'s orders - the Dr. is crazy! Who rests when they have a houseful like mine? I tried resting. We did school while I laid down on the couch every day. I gave up having a tidy home for having a healthy baby. Our wonderful church came to rescue with meals to keep us going.<br /><br />Then I got sick. It is not easy when Mommy is sick. 3 weeks of not being able to keep anything in. Finally we discovered that I was allergic to the anti-contraction medication! We stopped that quickly, and I just went on more strict bedrest. We made it. I'm 38+ weeks now - and still pregnant.<br /><br />Now that I am full term, I am super healthy and ready - and he's not coming out. The irony of it all! Do I need to learn this much flexibility Lord?<br /><br />Then today I was resting (Mommy's maxim "When the kids rest - Mommy rests!") and I remembered Isaiah 55:8 "For My thoughts are not your thoughts, nor are your ways My ways," says the Lord. "For as the heavens are higher than the earth, so are My ways higher than your ways, and My thoughts than your thoughts." Oh how true. His ways are not my ways. If I had my way, Nana would not have died a painful death. If I had my way I would have sailed through this pregnancy. If I had my way there would be no mud outside!<br /><br />But I'm glad that His ways are prevailing. There are some wonderful moments to be remembered these past few months. Reminiscing with my mother, while we cleaned out my Nana's apartment. Watching Daniel insist on being the first to eulogize Nana at the viewing service ("That's my Nana," he said, grabbing the microphone and pointing a long bony 5 year old finger, "and she is...DEAD! She's not moving because...she is DEAD!"). Working with Hannah on her memory work, and listening to her share her heart with me. Potty training Caleb. Watching Abby become more than a tummy on legs - but a little person - with lots of fun personality. Reading endless books on the couch. Cuddling on the couch with Peter while we talk about the day each evening, watching God's plan unfold. Learning to trust that God's ways ARE really better and higher than mine.<br /><br />Yes, it has been a rough couple of months. I'm hoping we are nearing the end of the challenges.<br /><br />But even if we are just beginning, I think I'm starting to get it. His ways are not mine - they are better. It's going to be OK. Actually, it's not going to be OK, it's going to be better than I could imagine. I have hope, because I know the Giver of Hope, and He's good on His word. May He be glorified through my life - even today.Debrahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10250868095004712285noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20806338.post-77324896241565254702010-04-14T13:11:00.000-07:002010-04-14T18:21:43.928-07:00I don't want the IPad, but what do I want?I checked out the IPad to see if that is something that would work for me. Unfortunately, it comes short in a lot of areas. But it set me thinking: if I had the ideal electronic thingy, what would it do? That is what this post is about. I think there may be something out there that could accomplish this, but maybe not in as small of a form factor as I want. Here's the list:<br /><br />1. Small form factor, but not too small. I like the netbook weight, but maybe slightly bigger screen.<br />2. I want a real keyboard, but the option of turning the monitor around into a tablet like the <a href="http://shop.lenovo.com/SEUILibrary/controller/e/web/LenovoPortal/en_US/catalog.workflow:category.details?current-catalog-id=12F0696583E04D86B9B79B0FEC01C087¤t-category-id=329576204C9E42289967E79E0E7C9A2D">Lenovo Thinkpad Tablet X200</a> (that may end up being my answer to all of this, but it is kind of heavy).<br />3. Both WWAN and Wifi built in. And it would really be nice if the software for connecting was not clunky (See Verizon's VZAccess software), but connected automatically, unless it was turned off. <br />4. Any document that I might need or e-mail that I need to read/answer would be available. This is not as much about the device as about my own system, but I think it could happen. I think the Google e-mail system is the closest I have seen to this so far. I'm testing out Sugarsync for document availability and so far it seems to be working pretty well. So, I think I may be close. But I'm having a hard time letting go of MS Exchange. It's working really well for me right now and I hate to kick out something that is working, just to get something that might work better . . . or worse, much worse. <br />5. I would love for it to boot up fast, but I'm not sure if it is worth it to give up the features that come with a full-featured operating system. <br />6. I also want enough storage so that I could store a substantial amount of files in the event I was somewhere without internet access. By substantial, I'm talking about 100 gig worth of files.<br /><br />So, there you have it. If you see it, let me know.Unknownnoreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20806338.post-90987928130295776482010-02-09T22:14:00.000-08:002010-02-09T22:40:08.794-08:00What They're SayingHannah...Today in ballet while doing "butterfly" warm-ups, the instructor asked each girl where they were "flying" to. Typical answers were things like "Grandma's house," "Disneyland," "my friend's house," etc. Until we get to Hannah. "Hannah, where are you flying today?" Without skipping a beat we hear "<em>I'm flying to a meeting house in Spain where we are meeting to discuss taking back Mexico as one of our own</em>." Totally random...<br /><br />Daniel...Today in choir the director began to clean the white board. All of a sudden Daniel blurts out "Watch out for those DANGEROUS CHEMICALS!!!" All the parents giggled. Mrs. Clark tried to assuage his fears by explaining that it is only water by flipping the bottle around and reading the label - in Spanish. Now my Spanish isn't great, but even I was able to understand the "flammable" warning! As if this isn't enough, a girl in the front row began to freak out over the whole idea and started yelling "I need safety goggles!" It caused quite such a stir that the director just abandoned cleaning the board altogether. Sorry about that Mrs. Clark! Daniel also got to sing a little solo this morning. She gave him the microphone, but he certainly did NOT need it. This guy has got lung power.<br /><br />Caleb...speaking of singing, he has the sweetest singing voice. I just melt whenever he sings. But on to the real news: Caleb has recently become potty trained! Do I hear shouts of relief and gratefulness? (Oh wait, <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0">that's</span> me.) This is nothing short of an answer to prayer! God knew that his mommy NEEDED this to happen. He is doing great! He also became aware of one big lack in his life this past weekend. Peter took me out on a date, but Caleb wanted to come along. I explained that it was just for Mommy and Daddy and that when he got married he could take his wife out for a date. "Oh no!" he exclaimed "I don't have a wife!" Not yet little one, not yet...<br /><br />Abby...thinks she is a big kid. She tries to keep up with the bigger kids and she's pretty good at it. It helps that she has a very large vocabulary for a 16 month old. She is especially fond of <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1">bath time</span>, raisins, and making messes. She is our little delight.<br /><br />Did I mention yet that Baby #5 is on the way? He is apparently destined to be a soccer player. We haven't heard any words from him yet, but if he's anything like the rest of us, he'll have a lot to say.Debrahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10250868095004712285noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20806338.post-64925973295136509632010-01-11T22:20:00.001-08:002010-01-11T22:28:48.724-08:00Mad LibsToday I found some Mad Libs filled out by Hannah, who apparently didn't know that you are supposed to do it with a friend and fill in the blanks without knowledge of the scenario. What's so funny is that I think she put in what was most logical in her little girl mind... I'll retype it here, with her words inserted in all caps:<br /><br />"Love Letter"<br /><br />My DEAR darling, I love you more than EARTH itself. Each minute away from you is a/an HOUR, each hour a/an LONG eternity.<br /><br />I can't stop thinking about the color of your CAT, the way you wear your DRESS, the way you toss your BALL. This morning, when the mail TRUCK brought your special delivery BOX, my HEART skipped a beat, my HEART was in my throat, and my DOG trembled so much, I could hardly SEE your HOUSE. What you said set my HOUSE on fire! Do write again. Until then, I love you from the bottom of my FEET.<br /><br />I will LOVE you always,<br /><br />HANNAHDebrahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10250868095004712285noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20806338.post-32264511442226948622010-01-01T15:58:00.000-08:002010-01-01T16:15:49.942-08:00SevenMy Dear Hannah,<br /><br />Today is your last day of being six years old. Today I watched you skip outside while heartily blowing a harmonica with carefree abandon. It brought tears to my eyes to see what a big girl you've become, and how lovely you are becoming.<br /><br />I remember - as if it were yesterday - going to the hospital 7 years ago today to give birth. I remember crying in the Doctor's office a few days before that I thought I would be eternally pregnant, and you would never come out! The doctor assured me that "Chance of baby coming out: 100%!" It seems so silly now, but even now as I'm pregnant I can imagine one of those kicks to feel like it was yours.<br /><br />Right now I can hear a happy harmonica outside. I think of how much joy you have brought Daddy and me! We named you Hannah Joy, because #1 Hannah was the first and only name that we liked at the time (and it means "Grace") and #2 We just 'knew' you would be our joy - and you are! Only you know exactly where that silly tickle spot is on my neck, because it is the same on yours. Only you can amaze us with reciting your history cards - something like 150 events in history from creation to Henry V now - in perfect order. Only you could teach yourself to read.Only you would be so stubborn to refuse to be potty trained until YOU were ready! I could go on and on...You make us smile, my dear!<br /><br />Tomorrow is your birthday, and we will celebrate seven wonderful years of you. Only you would choose pink peppermint cupcakes - because you knew that I always wanted that when I was your age. I'm looking forward to relishing them with you and going to the snow and having a snowball fight!<br /><br />I love spending time with you. This year I think we should: have more tea parties, play dress-up together, swim every day in the summer, sing <em>really </em>loud together (like Daniel), <em>try</em> and talk Daddy into a trip to Disneyland, and of course do lots of fun school. (Only you would think school is just for fun!) Your interests are so varied! You are the keeper of random facts! You are the memorizer of everything that I can never remember! You are my ballerina girl who I have to make sure who I have to make sure I get you out of your leotard before you go play in the mud! I thought Uncle Andy summarized you well at Thanksgiving when he said "She is the perfect blend of tomboy and girly-girl."<br /><br />Most of all, you are a gift from God. If there is one thing I hope you remember about me when some day I am gone, it is that I loved you, every single minute of every single day - even when I had to discipline you. You are such a gift and a joy.<br /><br />I love you sweet girl!<br /><br />MommyDebrahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10250868095004712285noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20806338.post-63062832797309819442009-10-27T16:58:00.000-07:002009-10-27T17:14:47.882-07:00Dangerous Toilet Incident - or - Another Reason I Love Being My Kids' MommyThis afternoon there was a loud crash during quiet time. I dropped my project and went running down the hall as I heard a gasp for air followed by a moan and LOUD crying. Apparently ___________ (name withheld because someday they are going to be as embarrassed as all get out), took an "extended potty visit" and - fell asleep on the toilet. The crash was what happened when said anonymous child (hereinafter "SAC") fell on the floor headfirst, pants down, and was then very confused, somewhat embarrassed, hurting, and altogether not happy about such a rude awakening.<br /><br />Grateful that the bathroom door was not locked, I rushed in, scooped up SAC, helped them get dressed again, and soothed lots of tears in the process. Then I carried SAC to the couch, and with lots of cuddles, SAC fell asleep in my arms for the rest of quiet time.<br /><br />As I lay there trying not to giggle I couldn't help thinking that someday this will be a special memory, because SAC rarely naps anymore, and never on Mommy. It was one of those times I love, a funny moment when only Mommy can save the day.<br /><br />But if you're ever staying at our house, please try to stay awake in the bathroom.Debrahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10250868095004712285noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20806338.post-25521256199603434892009-10-26T16:58:00.000-07:002009-10-26T17:21:36.040-07:00The Lesson in Caleb's WafflesWe usually have waffles on Wednesdays here. Lest you think I am a domestic diva who actually takes real time to make homemade waffles on a school morning, I will qualify that to explain that we have warmed up frozen Eggo waffles with store bought smoothie yogurt on top on Wednesdays, because beginning readers like the alliteration of "Waffles on Wednesday!"<br /><br />Our toaster oven (not the drop-in kind) comfortably fits 3 round waffles, and bulges the door open with 4. With 5 people eating the waffles, you can imagine that there is often some wait time involved...<br /><br />Here is what I heard:<br /><br />Caleb: Mommy, may I please have more waffles?<br /><br />Me: Yes, Caleb. They're cooking right now.<br /><br />(No more than 4 seconds later) Caleb: Mommy, can I <em>please</em> have more waffles?<br /><br />Me: Of course, Caleb. They're cooking right now. Would you like to watch for the light to go off?<br /><br />Caleb: No, I would like another waffle.<br /><br />Me: OK, just wait while they're cooking.<br /><br />Caleb: Mommy, may I please have another waffle?<br /><br />And so it went on and on, for the entire 2 minutes it takes for a waffle to toast.<br /><br />Aaaaaahhhh! I thought, after going through this every 4 seconds. Just listen to me! I WANT you to have waffles! I'm cooking them as we speak! You must be patient!<br /><br />And then it dawned on me...How often is this the way I pray to God? I keep telling Him over and over what I need. Like He doesn't know. Like He hasn't anticipated my need before I even spoke it - <em>the first time</em> - just like I put those crazy waffles in <em>before</em> Caleb even finished his previous waffle. Like He doesn't care - even more than I care to feed my precious children!<br /><br />How many times do I think I know what I need, and that I need it NOW. Maybe He's just cooking it all up as I speak?! Maybe He's already got it ready, and He's just waiting for ME to be ready?! It's OK to learn to be patient isn't it? He knows best!<br /><br />On the other hand, I think He wants us to ASK Him for what we need and/or want. When my children want something from me, I want them to ask, and ask politely and respectfully. Around here, demanding gets you nothing but a big fat NO from Mommy. I'm sure God is more gracious than I am, but I'm also convinced that even though He knows our need and has prepared all good things from before the beginning of time, He wants us to ASK Him, and do it respectfully.<br /><br />As the waffles toasted and my mind warmed all these thoughts, I took the time to speak my thoughts to the kids. They looked at me with their glazed look of "Mom is spouting on her soapbox again, and all we want are waffles," but I'm praying that someday it will mean something to them. Maybe someday they will want to be married, and God hasn't brought the right spouse into their lives yet. He's not necessarily saying NO, but maybe "Wait while the waffles are cooking! You don't want soggy waffles anyway!" Maybe it will be something else, I don't know.<br /><br />But in the meantime kids, don't fret the wait. In the end, it won't seem that it was so long of a wait after all.Debrahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10250868095004712285noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20806338.post-48506795073930137052009-09-12T21:33:00.001-07:002009-09-12T21:50:45.862-07:00Giving God a TryDaniel recently turned 5, and is totally delightfully 100% boy. Peter and I have nicknamed him "Pig Pen" (although he and the other kids don't know) because he is happiest in the dirt. He can hardly wait to get out the door in the morning, and loves to help outdoors at any time, regardless of whether it is 110 outside or pleasant. He is a boy with a wheelbarrow, a rake, and a shovel, and he's on a mission. Earlier this week I told him to go play outside and he actually implored me "No Mommy! Please! I can't just PLAY! Give me some work! I need a job!!!" So I acquiesced with a muffled chuckle and sent him outside to rake the pine needles off the grass. What a kid!<br /><br />Even more of a marvel is to see in him how his faith in God is growing. When he prays, he prays with fervency, with what can only be termed "childlike faith" to God, who (obviously to Daniel) is really listening and acting on Daniel's behalf. If only the rest of the world could see it as clearly as he does!<br /><br />Recently Daniel has had some bad dreams at night, and has been afraid to go to sleep in the dark. He wants his nightlight, songs to be sung, each member of the family to pray for him, etc. It is precious, but still concerning.<br /><br />So last night he started panicking again, and Peter told him to go back to his room and HE ask God to protect him from bad dreams. The look on Daniel's face was priceless, like 'Do you think He would Dad?' Peter went back with him to tuck him in and listen to his prayers, but the sweetest thing was that he announced "OK. I'll give God a try!"<br /><br />With that, he promptly went to sleep and slept like a baby through the night.<br /><br />Tonight when it was bedtime he wasn't afraid at all.<br /><br />"Do you want to pray and ask God to protect you from bad dreams Buddy?" I asked<br /><br />"Yes. I already did."<br /><br />"Did God protect you last night? Did you decide if you can trust God?" I queried<br /><br />"Yes. I can trust Him. He takes care of me."<br /><br />Ah, the peace that passes understanding. If only we all had the faith of a child, in the one true omnicient, omnipresent, omnipotent God.Debrahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10250868095004712285noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20806338.post-59386962309710323862009-09-10T15:54:00.000-07:002009-09-10T15:58:25.477-07:00Not Really Needed After All?This morning Hannah announced to us that "the kids and I will be fine if you and Mommy die."<br /><br />"Oh really?" Peter questioned<br /><br />"Yes, because I can feed us all the food in the pantry. The only think I can't do yet is get money and get us places."<br /><br />Just a few minor things...Debrahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10250868095004712285noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20806338.post-29133424481651659792009-08-13T21:49:00.000-07:002009-08-13T22:32:41.293-07:002 x 6<p>Hannah:</p><ul><li>Was a flower girl last week in her Aunt Mary's wedding. She was lovely (of course), and gets the award for the best traveler in the kids group. She is a pro. She gets the gear in, sits down with the ipod, and kicks back for the flight.</li><li>Can hardly wait to start the next level of math, Math-U-See's "Gamma." Lest you think that she is boringly studious, let me assure you that although she is rip-roaring-ready to begin multiplication ("multiplicating" as she calls it), the real reason is that the book binding is PINK. How could they have known what a motivating factor that would be to a 6 year old girl? And what will happen when the boys are ready for that level?</li></ul><p>Daniel:</p><ul><li>Was the Hero of the Wedding. He wanted a job (Hannah had one...) but the ring bearer job was already taken. I told him that he had a special job to watch quietly and pray. He said that he would not, because he was going to be "The Hero!" Aunt Mary and I agreed that this was a fine job for him. Then he spent the entire weekend trying to figure out what The Hero should be doing. He finally landed on the idea that a hero is a gentleman, so he dashingly opened every door for every lady he could find. I tell you, this kid is a keeper!</li><li>Daniel gets the award for the cutest moment on the plane. He is learning to recognize words and logos, and while traveling quickly identified the words and logos for our carrier, American Airlines. You have to know that Daniel has an uncommonly loud and clear projecting capability (ie. when he was born he came out screaming so loud that even the doctor was shocked). So there he was on the plane identifying every American plane he saw. This got to be a problem at the Dallas airport, as it is their hub. "American!" he exclaimed, pointing long bony fingers, "American!" over and over and over again. It was very cute, and was only be topped by his breaking out into song as we taxied to the runway "American! American! [God shed His grace on thee....]" at which point everyone on the plane craned to see the 4 year old singer and the entire plane erupted in chuckles. That's my Daniel! At least he carries a tune well. </li></ul><p>Caleb:</p><ul><li>Has gone from being a constant drowning risk to a good swimmer! That is nothing short of an answer to prayer, and the work of a wonderful swim teacher. He is still our cuddly little guy.</li><li>Caleb gets the award for the wedding stopper. Just after the pastor asked the formal legal questions about if anyone knew any reason why they should not be married, Caleb blurts out "Hannah! NOOOOO!!!!!" Apparently, he had been irritating Hannah in the pew during the ceremony, and she had had enough and hauled off and slugged him hard! Peter was sitting there with Abby sleeping in his arms, trying to shush them. I was standing up in the front trying to look like nothing had just happened. It seemed like everyone in the world looked first at Caleb, then back at me to see my reaction. Thank goodness Aunt Mary thought it was funny! Sometimes parenting is so humbling...</li></ul><p>Abby:</p><ul><li>Gets the sweetness award. She is so endearing to everyone! She copies animal sounds when you read to her and watches your mouth and imitates sounds and words as she is able. Her four words are: Mama, Dada, Nigh-Night, and Bob (as in Bob the Builder, Daniel's newest obsession). </li><li>She has also turned into our speed-crawler. The bigger kids think she is so cute that they don't even mind when she crawls right through their toys on the floor. I hope that continues for the rest of their lives (but I doubt it).</li></ul><p>Peter:</p><ul><li>Gets the working-so-hard award. He is so diligent in his work, but he knows how and when to stop and play. He is so sweet too. I told him I was craving frozen yogurt while we were in Florida, and when we were in the airport he came back from walking the boys with a huge cup of Butter Pecan for me. </li><li>Has been doing the P90X exercise regimen for a some weeks now and is having great results. I tried doing the Ab Ripper with him one night and it wasn't easy! I'm sure I could never keep up with plyometrics (or whatever it is called) and most of the others! The whole "bring it!" mentality cracks me up, but I've got to respect Peter's stick-to-it-ness. I'm thankful that he doesn't do it every single day, and that he has some give in his diet too. He's looking great, and feeling good. I'm proud of him.</li></ul><p>Debra:</p><ul><li>Gets the brave traveler award. When we got to the airport to leave for Florida, Peter unloaded the car to so I could get in line, but there were no porters on the street! I ran to find someone and the security told me they were all busy just then. There were no carts around. So I circled the kids and told them that we were going to have to get all the gear in by ourselves. I swung two carseats onto my back, held a few carry-ons, and pushed Abby in the stroller. I had each of the 3 other kids pulling rolling suitcases and carrying things on their backs. Miraculously, we stayed together and got to our ticket counter, at which point a porter appeared to ask if we would like him to help. Yeah right, like I'm going to pay him something after I just herded (and "herded" is the best word) 4 kids, 3 suitcases, 2 carseats, 1 stroller, and 3 carry-ons into the line!</li><li>Is loving summer. We swim every day, and do school when we feel up to it. I especially love the stage that Abby is in right now. The whole world is there to explore! She is just so...adorable! I love being a wife and mother. It is a lot of work, but so rewarding. Peter had a lot of mommy duties this weekend, and after the wedding, he told me that being a mom was hard work. Yes, yes it is. I'm glad he can appreciate it!</li></ul>Debrahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10250868095004712285noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20806338.post-26985938547699005932009-07-10T14:42:00.000-07:002009-07-10T15:33:46.344-07:00Snapshot of a DayThis morning I woke up in the midst of a very vivid dream that I was back 11 years ago living in the orphanage in Russia. I could almost smell it in my dream. Totally wild! Long ago memories...<br /><br />Then I realized what a beautiful day it was becoming outside and decided, with my eyes still closed, that today was a zoo day.<br /><br />Fun Flexible Fridays. That's what we call them around here. On Fridays we do fun/education things that we never seem to make room for if we didn't have a designated day. We have French toast, play with friends, and try to do as many things that start with "F" as possible, only because Friday starts with an "F!"<br /><br />In the car on the way to the zoo, this was part of our conversation:<br /><br />Hannah: "Mom, you know what America has in common with Canada?"<br /><br />Mommy: "Well, what do you have in mind?"<br /><br />Hannah: "We both speak two languages, English, and another one. Canadians speak English and French, and we speak English and Spanish."<br /><br />Mommy: <em>Thinking that she must be a California girl...</em>"Yes, that's true." <em>Sort of...</em><br /><br />Hannah: "And I speak some French, so if we go there, I'll talk for us!"<br /><br />Mommy: <em>Thinking it would be a lot more useful if she spoke Spanish like we're trying to learn </em>"That's a great offer! So what French do you know?"<br /><br />Hannah: "Merci."<br /><br />Mommy: "Which means thank you."<br /><br />Hannah: "Gallery."<br /><br />Mommy: "I think that is an English word too. Did you learn that in Fancy Nancy?" <em>(a book series)</em><br /><br />Hannah: "Yes. And 'Paris.'"<br /><br />Mommy: "Yes, the capital of France. Good!" <em>Thinking that we'll be off to a great start when we visit Canada OR France!</em><br /><br />Hannah: "And I know German too...Frau, and fraulein, and the difference between them."<br /><br />Mommy: <em>Thinking that reading Heidi and The Little Princess is teaching us SOMETHING! </em>"Yes. Good! And you also know more French from ballet, like pas de deux..."<br /><br />Hannah: "Yeah, and plie. And listen to this Mom 'ARABESQUE!'"<br /><br />Mommy: "Very nice!"<br /><br />And so we continue much the same way down the road until we zoo.<br /><br />As we are walking up to the ticket counter I realize that I must be feeling good, because this is the first time I have ventured out to take all 4 of them out to the zoo with just myself as the one single adult watching them, and that I am outnumbered if they scatter and get lost.<br /><br />Mommy: "Hannah, do you know your full name and our telephone number?"<br /><br />Hannah: "Yes...." <em>Recites it perfectly</em><br /><br />Mommy: "And my full name too?"<br /><br />Hannah: <em>With a glance like 'I wasn't born yesterday Mom!' </em>"Yes." <em>Recites it perfectly.</em><br /><br />Mommy: "Daniel, what is your full name?"<br /><br />Daniel: "Daniel."<br /><br />Mommy: "Is that all? What is your last name?"<br /><br />Daniel: <em>With a quizzing look recites it perfectly. Caleb chimes in to tell me his full name too.</em><br /><br />Mommy: "Good boys! And my name? What is my name, Daniel?"<br /><br />Daniel: <em>This time with confidence </em>"Washington, D.C.!!!"<br /><br />Mommy: <em>Hmmmmm....I guess I better keep a close eye on him...</em><br /><br />So then we go into the zoo. So much fun! So much room to jump and run! We're being so obedient the first time, and so KIND to each other! This is great! Everyone is having such a great time!!! Here are some pictures to prove it.<br /><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEivm1k-lG3LYbX8PLzmqzlDEZhF9vAszPvzMHWYxfYaXupqZMADyCDCbnuB759GttS89jGOmwYFkceX-daKNPTv5BBGMarWFVdytav5plbqjlvLUEyOPm11uBSJujBViShi7j2y/s1600-h/IMG_3187.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5356956481687795746" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 214px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEivm1k-lG3LYbX8PLzmqzlDEZhF9vAszPvzMHWYxfYaXupqZMADyCDCbnuB759GttS89jGOmwYFkceX-daKNPTv5BBGMarWFVdytav5plbqjlvLUEyOPm11uBSJujBViShi7j2y/s320/IMG_3187.JPG" border="0" /></a>My four, with the classic rule of "If someone two or more people are already looking pleasant AND at the camera, by no means shall everyone else comply." (Although they do all look pleasant!)<br /><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiOoH9hTtxAGJnDh5AN1YhvkQ3hdJrGptLDl47LS_95XKZwNCQ5qvFjfpIKhYSuAFlwhSJZWAkGcm7I8pYJomofib8dgQJ-8PBU8P9tYH3NOBQY1pmu4-FPDuLfYE6RsY0NGU9m/s1600-h/IMG_3183.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5356957563407935410" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 214px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiOoH9hTtxAGJnDh5AN1YhvkQ3hdJrGptLDl47LS_95XKZwNCQ5qvFjfpIKhYSuAFlwhSJZWAkGcm7I8pYJomofib8dgQJ-8PBU8P9tYH3NOBQY1pmu4-FPDuLfYE6RsY0NGU9m/s320/IMG_3183.JPG" border="0" /></a>Mrs. Llama there for petting. Notice that this girl isn't flinching from the camera. I was truly face to face with this lady, and after noticing her lower teeth, I'm glad she's muzzled. She doesn't look pleased. Sorry Mrs. Llama! I'll take my bouncing brood out of here, really!<br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgIGSL5Nun4bWD5BpOrhmRqSyxRPoQJ9AK1YIfa-KQTwLM2YCaZ3tJGHc4UIwgE2cwXbP95rxWgyB8EMKP6ZL4gk0xdnKqzTutEsj3IcIJMHu8e5kZz5jKXD1C5RIWzSOtSn7tM/s1600-h/IMG_3189.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5356958412957708994" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 214px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgIGSL5Nun4bWD5BpOrhmRqSyxRPoQJ9AK1YIfa-KQTwLM2YCaZ3tJGHc4UIwgE2cwXbP95rxWgyB8EMKP6ZL4gk0xdnKqzTutEsj3IcIJMHu8e5kZz5jKXD1C5RIWzSOtSn7tM/s320/IMG_3189.JPG" border="0" /></a> I'm thinking I should caption the above picture "Hope," because it shows caring and love between my two oldest, that I wish to see more and more. This is Hannah lifting Daniel down from the railing he was standing on to get the best view of the giraffes. Ah, today was a good day...<br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi2fGYEVqEnCEQL6Laq4LhOeSACSp5ocOMYnEOku9jI7fRTdBve379RIJQbMaHVXJsrD3sAIueA25hjxc-veAmWyHI8gRnHUOYNsacNvgxhFgtstF4s9DeH24P1s-jdy7wLju_I/s1600-h/IMG_3198.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5356960317573966610" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 214px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi2fGYEVqEnCEQL6Laq4LhOeSACSp5ocOMYnEOku9jI7fRTdBve379RIJQbMaHVXJsrD3sAIueA25hjxc-veAmWyHI8gRnHUOYNsacNvgxhFgtstF4s9DeH24P1s-jdy7wLju_I/s320/IMG_3198.JPG" border="0" /></a>This is a bit fuzzy, but what trip would be complete without a visit to "Stingray Bay, A Touching Experience." Isn't that a great name? We, obviously, love it.<br /><br /><p><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgIUBzud5s-Yrw5LfkEV3kXzaj8aqhBV2lOz0Mdd01965Dzj0-HzXfT-lcNsMfhPgk6tzHsSJAD4pMXEGXgsRbXAEvUBrsrG1B4Wdrb6pr5IW2ohrVnq1VxD4hw-WDqgmhA2U9L/s1600-h/IMG_3192.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5356961075484780738" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 214px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgIUBzud5s-Yrw5LfkEV3kXzaj8aqhBV2lOz0Mdd01965Dzj0-HzXfT-lcNsMfhPgk6tzHsSJAD4pMXEGXgsRbXAEvUBrsrG1B4Wdrb6pr5IW2ohrVnq1VxD4hw-WDqgmhA2U9L/s320/IMG_3192.JPG" border="0" /></a><br />And one final picture: The Cute Baby. I think she really did have more fun than this photo shows, but you'll have to ask her personally.</p><p>Now to the rest of the day! The kids and I are rooting for pizza tonight. How else can you crown such a great day?</p>Debrahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10250868095004712285noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20806338.post-60919128241746780712009-07-06T21:49:00.000-07:002009-07-06T22:21:45.895-07:00Catching UpWhew! Life has become a whirlwind! There is no way to fill in all the blanks since I last posted, but here are a few highlights:<br /><ul><li>We finished Hannah's butterfly project, watching and documenting the lifecycle of 10 painted lady butterflies, and reported on them at co-op. Co-op and ballet have both ended for the summer.</li><br /><li>We went to San Diego to visit our cousins. It was our first distance trip with 4 little ones, and it was a success! Peter had a legal continuing education course, so the kids and I went to Legoland, the beach, etc. with our cousins. You should have seen Hannah at the beach. I think it took all of about 3 minutes for her to get completely soaking wet - in her cute little dress with capris - just as we were about to go out for lunch. Ah, the joys of abandon at the beach...</li><br /><li>Back on the homefront, our pool was built and completed! It is beautiful and so refreshing, and just in time for the real heat. We could hardly wait for the water to go in. When the water eventually came (we had water trucks bring it in), we were all in the pool with the fire hoses. The men thought we were crazy.</li><br /><li>We flew to Florida! We celebrated Peter's parents 40th wedding anniversary at a beach community where they used to go when Peter was growing up. They all said it was amazing the same as they remembered. Hannah once again showed us her magnetism to the ocean. She just about lived in the water the whole week. Daniel and Caleb eventually warmed up to it as well. Those boys were covered in salt and sand the entire time. Abby happily agreed to share all baby attention with the newest grandbaby in the family, the sweet Geneva Caroline. Daniel and Hannah had their first tennis lessons. We had such a great time that we are already trying to figure out if we can go back in a few years.</li><br /><li>Once again we have attempted to potty train. I think I am going to go insane. </li></ul><p>Here are few photos per Amy's request:<br /></p><div align="center"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiLdna54_ZiA2WReIZAI1LdKy4DAJPoJyps2rNpHsCyBE7zqxnx15tP2WJkbuzOaviNDD08vsGl8fOHKD_UomkfxQ5R3vBagnHX67Ja0RbEdJxZSdTyCffk7r5dP0CCOtypgyqO/s1600-h/IMG_2716.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5355581425699097602" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 214px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiLdna54_ZiA2WReIZAI1LdKy4DAJPoJyps2rNpHsCyBE7zqxnx15tP2WJkbuzOaviNDD08vsGl8fOHKD_UomkfxQ5R3vBagnHX67Ja0RbEdJxZSdTyCffk7r5dP0CCOtypgyqO/s320/IMG_2716.JPG" border="0" /></a> Abby, 9 months<br /><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEicgVy9MXgYWxrL2ZKKw4D4QVa1dO7c5vlfI3dvf6mWjVramWLPrlvpfxFOEsV_pqA1RdvzJOGeFttzhwdLi5WOcYTnbN7v_Th2g0I0B8Bp3sZ3sSx4DPT9Ks1DB591Jhkr5bep/s1600-h/IMG_2739.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5355581186537553218" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 214px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEicgVy9MXgYWxrL2ZKKw4D4QVa1dO7c5vlfI3dvf6mWjVramWLPrlvpfxFOEsV_pqA1RdvzJOGeFttzhwdLi5WOcYTnbN7v_Th2g0I0B8Bp3sZ3sSx4DPT9Ks1DB591Jhkr5bep/s320/IMG_2739.JPG" border="0" /></a> Caleb, 3 years<br />(Did I mention how hot it was in FL? He's trying to stay cool just WATCHING a tennis match)<br /><br /><br /><div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjfpYNsU6-sE8WbkHj9iRhStPRkZNQNvBvDi1edXBBLdxqVq6QwsuuHDIu5PDupdqOzdtleuWeEGzp2kSTBbr9HFt8GZSPil8TNEELNdmChSgwDY7o3Tl8Sf8mQwyuJ7eIt9GQw/s1600-h/_MG_3049.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5355580872599796978" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 214px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjfpYNsU6-sE8WbkHj9iRhStPRkZNQNvBvDi1edXBBLdxqVq6QwsuuHDIu5PDupdqOzdtleuWeEGzp2kSTBbr9HFt8GZSPil8TNEELNdmChSgwDY7o3Tl8Sf8mQwyuJ7eIt9GQw/s320/_MG_3049.JPG" border="0" /></a><br />Daniel, age 4<br /><br /><div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhpYjXfClOL9KAu0EdYDKZ2BbcIxbK_ve__pJrtLThfTR1RYIO_vjsfT9SazQU-Bigrx9fFpalLq57spt_t8oFWvS6nVUb44tFca6-pGaHfchvf85tAGGYWcnoLJi2yUyz5cGW1/s1600-h/IMG_2719.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5355580563255042530" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 214px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhpYjXfClOL9KAu0EdYDKZ2BbcIxbK_ve__pJrtLThfTR1RYIO_vjsfT9SazQU-Bigrx9fFpalLq57spt_t8oFWvS6nVUb44tFca6-pGaHfchvf85tAGGYWcnoLJi2yUyz5cGW1/s320/IMG_2719.JPG" border="0" /></a><br />Hannah, age 6<br /><br /><br /><div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjfFvG1UV_y5_FvHQyOBEhze_5WruAgxBQRq5ftmn7OSCt2q3DQ2jnn05eKWU-9Wh2lx7PTBovCY0Rg8BcKnT88GiCsERGE-WsCslSpMoQ1XOxWLXZ7ZzeE0hkPq9mhxLTvKEHN/s1600-h/IMG_2765.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5355580222986789906" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 214px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjfFvG1UV_y5_FvHQyOBEhze_5WruAgxBQRq5ftmn7OSCt2q3DQ2jnn05eKWU-9Wh2lx7PTBovCY0Rg8BcKnT88GiCsERGE-WsCslSpMoQ1XOxWLXZ7ZzeE0hkPq9mhxLTvKEHN/s320/IMG_2765.JPG" border="0" /></a><br />Daniel's first tennis lesson! He was so proud. (I was too.)<br /><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiffgjQmGZALqjtitOzCHk278UGKhJOiYoT4_SpuXD7_LGoW6BU5IV1dEzg9xLJ7sViETj_3kvp3Ks8ZCKiULlw-ph266HCYIjNcH3O9VUrkeWcox2IAInj7XQsXh9Wb7dKHYO7/s1600-h/IMG_2935.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5355581707320027394" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 214px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiffgjQmGZALqjtitOzCHk278UGKhJOiYoT4_SpuXD7_LGoW6BU5IV1dEzg9xLJ7sViETj_3kvp3Ks8ZCKiULlw-ph266HCYIjNcH3O9VUrkeWcox2IAInj7XQsXh9Wb7dKHYO7/s320/IMG_2935.JPG" border="0" /></a> Peter and me<br /></div></div></div></div>Debrahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10250868095004712285noreply@blogger.com2