Entry for April 08, 2008
I learned a lot of things in the days before the move and on our drive down to Smithville.
I learned that a 26 foot truck will not hold all of our stuff.
I learned that it is unnecessary to save every piece of clothing the kids have ever worn "just in case" they will be worn by another child someday.
I learned that my daughters have entirely too many shoes.
I learned that I actually am capable of driving using only my side mirrors because the back window is blocked by stuff.
I learned that if you listen to music on the car CD player for four hours straight it will overheat and refuse to work until it cools off.
I learned that my tolerance for listening to Silly Songs with Larry, also ends at 4 hours. If I listen longer than that I develop a twitch in my left eyelid that may possibly be permanent.
I learned that my children are capable of being really good for over eight hours in the car when they really want to.
I learned that, although we left some beautiful, generous friends behind, we arrived to find that there were beautiful, generous friends here, too.
More to come...
Entry for April 01, 2008
This morning, I went in the girls' room to wake them up and Angelina's face was covered with green dots. "Were you girls up last night, playing when I thought you were asleep?" I ask. Angelina rubs the sleep out of her eyes, "Huh?" "What did you do to your face? Go wash that off immediately." She looks bewildered, but leaves the room. Seconds later she returns, in tears. "Bella played a joke on me!" she wails. Ah! Things are starting to click with me (I'm slow, aren't I?) I hug my spotty child. "Let's go wash that off," I say. Now that I think of it, I was so busy today that confronting Isabella completely fell off the radar. {{sigh}} How am I supposed to be an effective parent if I'm too tired to discipline?
Bella is a joke genius. Two years ago, in February, she approached me. "Mom, when Dad is out of blue hair gel, save the bottle for me, OK?" "What for," I ask. "I'm planning an April Fool's Day joke. I'm gonna fill it with blue Jello, but you've got to help." Without even hesitating, I was in. It was so hard to wait the 6 weeks to do the nasty deed, but the payoff was great. Joe was a good sport. I think he was startled by the ingenuity of it. Hope I'm never the butt of one of her jokes...
On my parents' first April Fool's Day in Illinois, Joe played a trick. (Now, let me preface this by saying that my parents' backyard looks like an arboretum. It is perfectly manicured and equipped with a little pond that has a waterfall and many, many pieces of statuary.) He sneaked across the street to their backyard and did a little rearranging. He came home chuckling, but wouldn't tell me exactly what he'd done.
The next morning, April Fool's Day, I get an angry phone call from my mother. "You're not going to believe this!" she cries, "Someone stole ALL the statues in the backyard! We moved out of NY to get away from the crime and we're not even here six months and someone steals our statues! I'm calling the police!"
I tell my mother to calm down and ask her why she thinks they are all stolen. "I looked out my bedroom window and they're GONE!" she yells. "Why don't you go out there and see what's going on before you dial 911?" I suggest. "OK, I'll call you back."
Seconds later, the phone rings.
"AnnMarie, some weirdo did something weird." She sounds freaked out. "They put our St. Francis statue on the stoop facing away from the house and all the little animal statues are around him like they are listening to him preach! It's weird! Who would DO that?"
I act nonchalant. "I don't know. Hey, Mom, what day is it?"
"Thursday. Anyway, can you believe it? Do we have a psycho in the neighborhood or what? Should I call the police?"
"What day is it, Mom?"
"Thursday. This is so weird! Nothing like this happened in NY. What should I do?"
"Check the date."
"I told you, it's Thursday." She sounds miffed.
"Not the day, the date."
She sighs. "Wait, I have to change the calendar...(long silence)...WAS THIS YOU????????????"
I can't type what she said next, but I can tell you there were a lot of asterisks, ampersands and pound signs coming out of my mother's mouth.
The good thing is, now we laugh about it. Thank goodness...
Entry for March 27, 2008
It's March 27th and it's snowing. Not just flurries. There's snow on the trees and the ground. It is accumulating. People are shivering, making fires (hopefully in fireplaces) and drinking hot cocoa.
I think Al Gore should re-name his book, An Inconvenient Stab at Creating Mass Hysteria About Global Warming.
Entry for March 26, 2008
An old friend stopped by today for coffee and to say one last good-bye. We had a good visit. Good byes are difficult, but I am getting to see lots of people, and that is fun. After she left I went shopping. I had to wrestle a $14 can of anchovies out of Charlie's hand, but otherwise the trip was uneventful. I came home, unpacked, served lunch and then I was tired. I baked a birthday cake for a friend and then I was really tired.
Sensing my extreme fatigue, the kids occupied themselves today. Bella is spending the night at my parents' house with my niece. She spent a good part of the day calling her cousin to discuss what she should pack, making a list of what she should pack and then finally packing. Noah is a bit under the weather, so he spent the day reading in bed and drinking tea. Angelina followed me around, holding onto my shirt and hissing, "My precioussss..." It scares me when she does that. She also drew a great picture of a Hobbit hole with two Hobbits standing in the doorway. "Which Hobbits are these?" I ask. "It is Sam and Rosie Cotton getting married." Did I tell you my kids are Lord of the Rings fanatics? Does any other six-year-old know who Samwise Gamgee married??? The rest of the day was spent drawing flowers and cutting them out, then gluing them to a paper towel roll to make a bouquet.
Charlie alternately played on the computer, ate oranges, skin and all and drew in his room. He was big into watching the "Strand Home Video" logo on You Tube today. Now I have the music from it in my head. In case you don't know what the Strand logo is, it is at the beginning of any Thomas the Tank video.
Genevieve was more needy. "Mom, can you tape this marble to my wrist?" "OK," I answer. I've been asked to do other weird things that are gross, but this is something that is weird, but not gross, so I comply. She is happy. "Mom? Will you play Angelina Ballerina with me? It is a matching game. You turn over the cards and get a match and then take turns." "Wow," I say, "you know so much about that game that you could teach someone to play!" I have her set it up while I make dinner. We play and then I get dinner on the table. I make homemade lemonade to treat the kids because they have been so good today.
After dinner I tell the kids to go get PJ's on while I clean up. Genevieve comes downstairs, wiggling. "Mommy, I have to go to the bathroom!!!" "Who is in there?" I ask. "No one." Huh?! "Well, then go." "OK!" she shouts jubilantly, then skips away. Upstairs I hear Angelina singing Maurice Sendak's Alligators All Around in an operatic voice. Oddly, Noah is quiet. Charlie comes into the kitchen, removes a seedless cucumber from the fridge and begins to eat it whole.
Last week, when I was out shopping, Bella spotted a sign that said, "As far as anyone knows, we are a normal family." I think I need to go back and buy that sign...
Entry for March 20, 2008
Every Holy Thursday we act out the Last Supper using grape juice and matzoh. I completely forgot to buy those things this year, since I am busy packing. We wound up using a silver goblet of V8 Fusion and a slice of whole wheat bread. It was late. Joe had gotten home after 9 p.m. and we were all tired. Charlie went up into bed and refused to come down. Joe, of course, played the part of Jesus. Bella was Peter, Angelina was John and Genevieve was the rest of the apostles. Noah wanted to be Judas and was scrounging for 30 quarters (he takes his role very seriously). I put a stop to that and I narrated from the Gosple of Luke, while everyone acted it out. My children, budding theologians that they are, insisted we do it again, using a different gospel. So, onto Mark we went, more V8 was poured and an additional slice of bread was procured.
When we were done, Isabella expressed her dislike for plain whole wheat bread and asked if I would buy some "sugary white bread." We act out the Last Supper and my kids are thinking about junk food? I wonder if that was running through James the Lesser's head. "Darn! Whole wheat pita again??? I thought I asked Peter to pick up some white."
Hmmm...I don't think so...
Thursday, May 7, 2009
2/9/08-3/14/08
Entry for March 14, 2008
Joe donated 2 prints of a drawing Charlie made to a silent auction for a camp for kids with autism in KC. One was 5 X 7 and one was 8 X 10. The small one sold for $75 and the large one went for $350!!!!!! How wonderful for Charlie, that his love of art can benefit others...
One day, when Bella was an infant, I was sitting on the couch in the living room nursing her. Noah, who was two and a half at the time, toddles in and says, "Mommy, I don't draw on the wall." "That's right, Noah," I say, "You don't draw on a wall, only paper." Then common sense takes over and I ask, "What is Charlie doing?" "Drawing on the wall." AAARRGH!
I run into the dining room. Charlie, my artist, is there and he is standing in front of a huge mural that he had drawn of Mushu, the dragon from the movie Mulan. It was a very large drawing, maybe 5 feet long and 3 feet high. It was absolutely beautiful. Mushu is a Chinese dragon and Charlie had drawn the details perfectly. But, wait a minute, what is this? Awww, Mushu is a male dragon and the drawing was anatomically correct! I sigh. What am I going to do with this obviously male dragon mural on my dining room wall?
I talk to Charlie and explain that all drawings must be done on paper. I ask him to draw the same picture again and give him the paper to use.
Then I call Joe and tell him about the original art work on our wall. He says, we have two options: paint over it or change the decor of the room to an oriental theme. What a wise guy!We decide to paint over it. But we leave it up for a couple of weeks just so we can appreciate Charlie's talent.
So, unknowingly, the new owners will be receiving an original "Charlie," under several layers of paint.
Entry for March 12, 2008
Well, things are wrapping up here in IL. We have less than a month to go before we start our adventure way out west. I called and cancelled my newspaper subscription today. I am s-l-o-w-l-y boxing things up. But, most importantly, I changed my avatar to reflect my state of life right now. Did you notice the suitcases in the background? She's cute, isn't she? They didn't have a plumper body or I would have chosen it. I am on an emotional roller coaster-- alternately eating and crying. It's a bad, bad cycle. Not that I don't want to go, because it is surely God's will that we do. It just isn't easy...
It is time for teacher conferences at Giant Steps, Charlie's school. I e-mailed his teacher and asked if I could do a phone conference-- it would save me half a day and time is of the essence right now. He e-mailed me back and said, yes, the phone conference this Thursday would be fine. Then he told me that they were planning a good bye assembly for Charlie during school on his last day, April 4th. I burst into tears. Wow. What a send off. Charlie gets his own assembly. The people over at GS are so unbelievable. Just when you think they care too much, there they go again. The staff there constantly go above and beyond what would be expected of them. It is a good place.
After I stopped crying, I forwarded the e-mail to Joe and said, "Please be home for this." He e-mails me back, "Honey, that's this Thursday, in two days, I can't fly home for that." Huh? Then I realize he thinks I want him home for the phone conference, not the assembly, which was what I was talking about! Does he really think I want him to get on a plane, fly home and make a phone call? Have I been acting THAT irrational??? Have I completely lost it, or give the appearance of having completely lost it?? I mean, I cry a lot, but I believe I still have some sanity left... I e-mail him back and ask him these hard questions. I guess this is the kind of miscommunication that happens when you talk to your husband mostly through e-mail...
Well, on a day that was spent mostly crying, at least I had one good laugh.
Entry for February 25, 2008
I dropped Joe off at the airport last night. On the way there, Charlie was in the back seat saying, "broccoli." He just kept saying it in different ways, "BROCK-lee, brock-a-lee, broccoli, BROCCOLI!!!" I'd LOVE to know what is in his head...
There is a line from a song from one of his favorite movies, Rock-A-Doodle, that goes, "Cock-a-doo, what a day, the sun is shining brightly!" Charlie sings it "Cock-a-doo, what a Dave, the sun is shining in the broccoli!!!" I guess in Charlie's world broccoli is happy thing.
Have a broccoli day.
Entry for February 21, 2008
Tomorrow is Bella's birthday. She will be 9 years old. I can't believe how fast the time goes. It was just yesterday she was born, wasn't it?
Bella was two weeks early. I think she was early because we belonged to a food co-op back then and it was delivery day. I had stood up for about 3 hours helping to check in food. The nice people at the co-op loaded my car up with the groceries, but I hauled most of them in, except for the really heavy ones. I had to get the perishables put away, after all. Noah was 2 years old at the time and he was home with me. After Charlie got home from school, in the late afternoon, I started to get contractions. My friend, Christine, had offered to take the kids, but Charlie had a very bad problem with elopement at that time and since she lives on a farm with a creek and lots of corn to get lost in, we decided Noah would go to Christine and Charlie would go to the neighbors down the street.
Charlie left on his adventure and the contractions really started getting bad. Christine was out and was coming by to get Noah in a little while. My back was killing me. The only way I could get through the contractions was to stand up and lean on Joe, with my arms around his neck. Christine arrived around 8 p.m. and took Noah. Joe and I left for the hospital and the contractions were coming stong and frequently. Thank goodness the hospital is only 10 minutes away. I had 3 contractions on the way from the parking lot to the entrance of the hospital.
When I get to the maternity ward they want me to sit in a wheelchair. Sitting, at that point was really uncomfortable and I argue with them. They persist. I let myself have one more contraction and then dive into the chair. Joe tells them to go fast. They get me into the labor/delivery room and I hop up just as another contraction is starting. It was exactly 8:29 p.m. when I was officially checked in. We go through all the questions, and indignity of wearing the tiny, backless gown, getting poked at by the nurses, etc. We wait a little while and the doctor comes in. My water hadn't broken yet, so he said he would break it and then check on me in a little bit. Sounds fine to me. He takes out-- what is that? A crochet hook? He breaks the water and then he and the nurse leave. As soon as they are out of the room I feel the urge to push. Poor Joe. There's no one around and he starts to yell for the doctor. Too late. I hear someone screaming-- it could have been either me or Joe, or someone down the hall-- I don't know. Out she comes. Out of the corner of my eye I see the nurse enter the room. A look of horror crosses her face. She breaks into a run. But the way I see it, it all happens in slow motion, like a bad dream. She's like the Bionic Woman going across the room yeling, "Nooooooo!" Joe catches the baby. And so Isabella Mai Creedon enters the world in a very dramatic way at 9:29 p.m. on 2/22/99. And the first thing the proud father says to his firstborn daughter is, "Isabella, do you think we still have to pay the doctor for the delivery?"
I usually don't go for weird spellings of names, like Gylle, instead of Jill, or Geena instead of Gina, etc. Bella's middle name is Mai, which is the French word for May, pronounced the same. The reason why her middle name is Mai, is because Joe's Great Grandmother was French Canadian and her name was Maibelle. So Isabella Mai is a roundabout way of honoring Joe's Great Grandmother. Some people have asked me if it is a Hawaiian name, pronounced MY. No, it's not. All my daughters have middle names that honor the Blessed Mother. Bella's honors her because May is the month of Mary. Angelina's is Rose, which honors Mary under the title of Mystical Rose and Genevieve's middle name is...well, Mary.
When Bella was a preschooler, she would make funny noises. I would ask her what she was saying and she would always answer, "That's Elvish, for bed clothes." No wonder the Lord of the Rings Trilogy is her favorite movie and book. She's a funny kid. Loves the grossest things imaginable. Her other favorite books are The Encyclopedia of Everything Nasty, History's Grossest, Wackiest Moments and Seriously Sick Bible Stuff. Yet she is very prayerful. She insisted on the Douay-Rhiems when I bought her a bible for her first communion. She always remembers to pray for a former neighbor of ours, and unmarried elderly woman. She likes to light a candle for her at church. Bella has an extensive collection of holy cards and a devotion to St. Kateri. She is also very motherly and a good big sister.
Isn't it amazing how God allows all of ourchildren's traits to unfold like the petals of a flower, so we can savor each one, instead of dumping them all on us at once? He sure knows what He is doing, doesn't he?
Entry for February 09, 2008
We are in Smithville again. We drove down and this time we went straight through. It was an uneventful trip; which is good. On the way I saw a sign for the Machine Shed Restaurant. In what way did the owners think this would be appealing to anyone's appetite??? It sounds like a place where everything comes with a side of diesel fuel and you have to use waterless hand cleaner after each meal. Maybe it's a restaurant for robots. I don't know.
We have mostly been meeting new friends and driving around to look for areas to live in when we come down here. Today we went to Gladstone, which I had been reluctant to do, since it is surrounded entirely by KC. I just can't wrap my brain around the fact that you can live in or very close to KC and still be in the boondocks. Kansas City sounds like a city, but much of it is still open land. Very open. With cows. Every time I think about being out here permanently, Marissa Tomei's voice whispers to me, "Yeah, like you blend." *
I guess I shouldn't worry too much. We met the families of both Noah and Bella's penpals and they were some of the nicest and down-to-earth people I have ever had the pleasure of knowing. Noah's penpal, Sam, is a great kid. He also feels called to be a priest, just like Noah. They spent lots of time playing army and just having a ball. Bella's penpal, Lydia is just as much of a Lord of the Rings fanatic as Bella is. They hit it off immediately. If I had to create brand new friends for Noah and Bella, I couldn't have come up with two more perfect kids. I can see God's hand in all this...
So, anyway, we head over to Gladstone, because Sam's mom informed me that that is where the Italians live. We have been on a quest for an Italian deli and we found one today in Gladstone. We got sandwiches there for lunch. Yum... everyone was happy! The kids were especially good in the car. We put about 100 miles on it, just driving around. We did see several subdivisions in Gladstone that we really liked. One of them is within walking distance of the local parish.
On the way back Joe got the kids Hershey bars because they had been so good on such a boring trip. Genevieve sang in the car, as usual. Angelina did her imitation of a hobbit. She sounds just like Pippin when she says, "But what about second breakfast?" Charlie hummed quietly to himself and commented when the kids got too loud. And Noah and Bella had a good discussion on the difference between hyperbole and exaggeration.
It was a good day. A day full of hope tinged with a bit of sadness at the familiar faces we will eventually leave behind. We are trying to look at this as an adventure. We will be closing a chapter of our lives in St. Charles and opening a new one in MO. Although there are a few questions we have about the future, like where, exactly, we will live; we know that God is in control and caring for us. So, at least we won't ever have to ask, "But what about second breakfast?"
* Marissa Tomei as Miss Mona Lisa Vita in the movie My Cousin Vinny
Joe donated 2 prints of a drawing Charlie made to a silent auction for a camp for kids with autism in KC. One was 5 X 7 and one was 8 X 10. The small one sold for $75 and the large one went for $350!!!!!! How wonderful for Charlie, that his love of art can benefit others...
One day, when Bella was an infant, I was sitting on the couch in the living room nursing her. Noah, who was two and a half at the time, toddles in and says, "Mommy, I don't draw on the wall." "That's right, Noah," I say, "You don't draw on a wall, only paper." Then common sense takes over and I ask, "What is Charlie doing?" "Drawing on the wall." AAARRGH!
I run into the dining room. Charlie, my artist, is there and he is standing in front of a huge mural that he had drawn of Mushu, the dragon from the movie Mulan. It was a very large drawing, maybe 5 feet long and 3 feet high. It was absolutely beautiful. Mushu is a Chinese dragon and Charlie had drawn the details perfectly. But, wait a minute, what is this? Awww, Mushu is a male dragon and the drawing was anatomically correct! I sigh. What am I going to do with this obviously male dragon mural on my dining room wall?
I talk to Charlie and explain that all drawings must be done on paper. I ask him to draw the same picture again and give him the paper to use.
Then I call Joe and tell him about the original art work on our wall. He says, we have two options: paint over it or change the decor of the room to an oriental theme. What a wise guy!We decide to paint over it. But we leave it up for a couple of weeks just so we can appreciate Charlie's talent.
So, unknowingly, the new owners will be receiving an original "Charlie," under several layers of paint.
Entry for March 12, 2008
Well, things are wrapping up here in IL. We have less than a month to go before we start our adventure way out west. I called and cancelled my newspaper subscription today. I am s-l-o-w-l-y boxing things up. But, most importantly, I changed my avatar to reflect my state of life right now. Did you notice the suitcases in the background? She's cute, isn't she? They didn't have a plumper body or I would have chosen it. I am on an emotional roller coaster-- alternately eating and crying. It's a bad, bad cycle. Not that I don't want to go, because it is surely God's will that we do. It just isn't easy...
It is time for teacher conferences at Giant Steps, Charlie's school. I e-mailed his teacher and asked if I could do a phone conference-- it would save me half a day and time is of the essence right now. He e-mailed me back and said, yes, the phone conference this Thursday would be fine. Then he told me that they were planning a good bye assembly for Charlie during school on his last day, April 4th. I burst into tears. Wow. What a send off. Charlie gets his own assembly. The people over at GS are so unbelievable. Just when you think they care too much, there they go again. The staff there constantly go above and beyond what would be expected of them. It is a good place.
After I stopped crying, I forwarded the e-mail to Joe and said, "Please be home for this." He e-mails me back, "Honey, that's this Thursday, in two days, I can't fly home for that." Huh? Then I realize he thinks I want him home for the phone conference, not the assembly, which was what I was talking about! Does he really think I want him to get on a plane, fly home and make a phone call? Have I been acting THAT irrational??? Have I completely lost it, or give the appearance of having completely lost it?? I mean, I cry a lot, but I believe I still have some sanity left... I e-mail him back and ask him these hard questions. I guess this is the kind of miscommunication that happens when you talk to your husband mostly through e-mail...
Well, on a day that was spent mostly crying, at least I had one good laugh.
Entry for February 25, 2008
I dropped Joe off at the airport last night. On the way there, Charlie was in the back seat saying, "broccoli." He just kept saying it in different ways, "BROCK-lee, brock-a-lee, broccoli, BROCCOLI!!!" I'd LOVE to know what is in his head...
There is a line from a song from one of his favorite movies, Rock-A-Doodle, that goes, "Cock-a-doo, what a day, the sun is shining brightly!" Charlie sings it "Cock-a-doo, what a Dave, the sun is shining in the broccoli!!!" I guess in Charlie's world broccoli is happy thing.
Have a broccoli day.
Entry for February 21, 2008
Tomorrow is Bella's birthday. She will be 9 years old. I can't believe how fast the time goes. It was just yesterday she was born, wasn't it?
Bella was two weeks early. I think she was early because we belonged to a food co-op back then and it was delivery day. I had stood up for about 3 hours helping to check in food. The nice people at the co-op loaded my car up with the groceries, but I hauled most of them in, except for the really heavy ones. I had to get the perishables put away, after all. Noah was 2 years old at the time and he was home with me. After Charlie got home from school, in the late afternoon, I started to get contractions. My friend, Christine, had offered to take the kids, but Charlie had a very bad problem with elopement at that time and since she lives on a farm with a creek and lots of corn to get lost in, we decided Noah would go to Christine and Charlie would go to the neighbors down the street.
Charlie left on his adventure and the contractions really started getting bad. Christine was out and was coming by to get Noah in a little while. My back was killing me. The only way I could get through the contractions was to stand up and lean on Joe, with my arms around his neck. Christine arrived around 8 p.m. and took Noah. Joe and I left for the hospital and the contractions were coming stong and frequently. Thank goodness the hospital is only 10 minutes away. I had 3 contractions on the way from the parking lot to the entrance of the hospital.
When I get to the maternity ward they want me to sit in a wheelchair. Sitting, at that point was really uncomfortable and I argue with them. They persist. I let myself have one more contraction and then dive into the chair. Joe tells them to go fast. They get me into the labor/delivery room and I hop up just as another contraction is starting. It was exactly 8:29 p.m. when I was officially checked in. We go through all the questions, and indignity of wearing the tiny, backless gown, getting poked at by the nurses, etc. We wait a little while and the doctor comes in. My water hadn't broken yet, so he said he would break it and then check on me in a little bit. Sounds fine to me. He takes out-- what is that? A crochet hook? He breaks the water and then he and the nurse leave. As soon as they are out of the room I feel the urge to push. Poor Joe. There's no one around and he starts to yell for the doctor. Too late. I hear someone screaming-- it could have been either me or Joe, or someone down the hall-- I don't know. Out she comes. Out of the corner of my eye I see the nurse enter the room. A look of horror crosses her face. She breaks into a run. But the way I see it, it all happens in slow motion, like a bad dream. She's like the Bionic Woman going across the room yeling, "Nooooooo!" Joe catches the baby. And so Isabella Mai Creedon enters the world in a very dramatic way at 9:29 p.m. on 2/22/99. And the first thing the proud father says to his firstborn daughter is, "Isabella, do you think we still have to pay the doctor for the delivery?"
I usually don't go for weird spellings of names, like Gylle, instead of Jill, or Geena instead of Gina, etc. Bella's middle name is Mai, which is the French word for May, pronounced the same. The reason why her middle name is Mai, is because Joe's Great Grandmother was French Canadian and her name was Maibelle. So Isabella Mai is a roundabout way of honoring Joe's Great Grandmother. Some people have asked me if it is a Hawaiian name, pronounced MY. No, it's not. All my daughters have middle names that honor the Blessed Mother. Bella's honors her because May is the month of Mary. Angelina's is Rose, which honors Mary under the title of Mystical Rose and Genevieve's middle name is...well, Mary.
When Bella was a preschooler, she would make funny noises. I would ask her what she was saying and she would always answer, "That's Elvish, for bed clothes." No wonder the Lord of the Rings Trilogy is her favorite movie and book. She's a funny kid. Loves the grossest things imaginable. Her other favorite books are The Encyclopedia of Everything Nasty, History's Grossest, Wackiest Moments and Seriously Sick Bible Stuff. Yet she is very prayerful. She insisted on the Douay-Rhiems when I bought her a bible for her first communion. She always remembers to pray for a former neighbor of ours, and unmarried elderly woman. She likes to light a candle for her at church. Bella has an extensive collection of holy cards and a devotion to St. Kateri. She is also very motherly and a good big sister.
Isn't it amazing how God allows all of ourchildren's traits to unfold like the petals of a flower, so we can savor each one, instead of dumping them all on us at once? He sure knows what He is doing, doesn't he?
Entry for February 09, 2008
We are in Smithville again. We drove down and this time we went straight through. It was an uneventful trip; which is good. On the way I saw a sign for the Machine Shed Restaurant. In what way did the owners think this would be appealing to anyone's appetite??? It sounds like a place where everything comes with a side of diesel fuel and you have to use waterless hand cleaner after each meal. Maybe it's a restaurant for robots. I don't know.
We have mostly been meeting new friends and driving around to look for areas to live in when we come down here. Today we went to Gladstone, which I had been reluctant to do, since it is surrounded entirely by KC. I just can't wrap my brain around the fact that you can live in or very close to KC and still be in the boondocks. Kansas City sounds like a city, but much of it is still open land. Very open. With cows. Every time I think about being out here permanently, Marissa Tomei's voice whispers to me, "Yeah, like you blend." *
I guess I shouldn't worry too much. We met the families of both Noah and Bella's penpals and they were some of the nicest and down-to-earth people I have ever had the pleasure of knowing. Noah's penpal, Sam, is a great kid. He also feels called to be a priest, just like Noah. They spent lots of time playing army and just having a ball. Bella's penpal, Lydia is just as much of a Lord of the Rings fanatic as Bella is. They hit it off immediately. If I had to create brand new friends for Noah and Bella, I couldn't have come up with two more perfect kids. I can see God's hand in all this...
So, anyway, we head over to Gladstone, because Sam's mom informed me that that is where the Italians live. We have been on a quest for an Italian deli and we found one today in Gladstone. We got sandwiches there for lunch. Yum... everyone was happy! The kids were especially good in the car. We put about 100 miles on it, just driving around. We did see several subdivisions in Gladstone that we really liked. One of them is within walking distance of the local parish.
On the way back Joe got the kids Hershey bars because they had been so good on such a boring trip. Genevieve sang in the car, as usual. Angelina did her imitation of a hobbit. She sounds just like Pippin when she says, "But what about second breakfast?" Charlie hummed quietly to himself and commented when the kids got too loud. And Noah and Bella had a good discussion on the difference between hyperbole and exaggeration.
It was a good day. A day full of hope tinged with a bit of sadness at the familiar faces we will eventually leave behind. We are trying to look at this as an adventure. We will be closing a chapter of our lives in St. Charles and opening a new one in MO. Although there are a few questions we have about the future, like where, exactly, we will live; we know that God is in control and caring for us. So, at least we won't ever have to ask, "But what about second breakfast?"
* Marissa Tomei as Miss Mona Lisa Vita in the movie My Cousin Vinny
1/18/08-1/30/08
Entry for January 30, 2008
When I woke up yesterday I said a totally different prayer than I have been saying. Instead of the whole litany that I ususally go through (Oh, Jesus, please let our house sell soon, let Charlie get into a good school in MO, help us find a suitable house down there, good friends, blah, blah, blah), I simply prayed, "Lord, Your will be done." Amazing what God can do when you get out of His way...
The last thing that needs to get done to make the house move-in ready was refinish the upsatirs hallway floor. Since we are leaving soon for MO, there's very little time to do this. Joe will be home for less than 12 hours before we leave, so he can't do it. So, I decide that I am the best candidate for the job. I put out a message on the homeschool Yahoo group asking for a palm sander. I get an overwhelming response. A good friend calls and volunteers her sander and her husband drops it off Tuesday morning. I thank him profusely. I look at it and try to make sense of it. I start getting intimidated. It comes with a case of attachments. I put that in a corner without opening it up. The phone rings. It is my friend, Kerry. She's coming over with a floor sander. Whoa! A floor sander! It sounds even more intimidating than the palm sander, but it also sounds faster!
Kerry backs into the parking lot next to my house and I go out to help her carry the sander in. This thing is HEAVY. Not "Oh, gee, this bag of groceries is heavy" heavy. More like "Oh, @#%* I am going to @#%* DIE!!!" heavy. We count to three then hoist it out of the trunk. She starts to laugh. Very contagious. I join in. Here we are balancing the sander between us and just roaring with laughter. We begin to shuffle down the sidewalk with the thing and then realize that it has wheels on the bottom. Sheepishly, we lower it and push it to the porch, then hoist it up and get it in the house. Now, for the stairs. I bust out laughing again. Kerry joins in and I tell her that we are like the mice in Cinderella trying to get the key up the stairs. "Stop making me laugh!" she laughs. We compose ourselves and I get on the step and start to pull, while she stays at the bottom and pushes. (Did I mention this thing was HEAVY???) Slowly we pull it up. I am grunting like Monica Seles. Finally we get it to the top. Somehow we feel as if this was an episode of I Love Lucy. I get the curious urge to drink Vitameatavegamin while stuffing candy in my mouth and stomping on grapes. But it passes. Ethel, uh, Kerry, shows me how to use the thing. I try it out while she is with me. We both marvel at it's effectiveness. Then Kerry goes home with the promise to come get it tomorrow.
The phone rings. It is another one of my good friends. She said she heard that I am sanding today and she's bringing over dinner. I start to protest and she said she knew I was going to do that and to stop it because she's bringing over dinner anyway. Now, I stop because this particular friend happens to be an excellent cook, so I take the offer.
I round the kids up. I explain to them that schoolwork must be done independently and they must either do it in their rooms or in the classroom, but they may NOT come into the hallway. I show them the sander and how it works, to satisfy their curiosity, then send them into exile.
About 2 hours later I am done with as much as I could do with the floor sander. I shut it off and lean against the wall, exhausted. Those things are hard to use!!! The phone rings. It's Kerry. I tell her I am done. She can't believe it. Neither can I. About an hour later she shows up to pick up the sander. Now for the challenge. We need to get the sander into her van. Here we go! Down was easier than up. We take it easily to her car. As we were lifting it off the ground into the trunk we both get another attack of the giggles. It gets stuck on the bumper. We laugh harder. Finally it goes in. Just as Kerry closes the trunk, my parents show up. They want to see the floor. They are incredulous. My Mom asks when I am going to get the rest done. "Right now," I tell her. I'm on a roll. She offers to stay and make sure the kids don't do anything harmful or illegal while I am sanding. They need to be downstairs because the palm sander doesn't have a bag for the sawdust and I don't want them breathing it in. Another hour later I am done. Wow! I am feeling pretty cocky right now. I may even go for my own show on HGTV: Desperation Remodeling on a Non-Existant Budget. What do you think? I could be the creative, free-spirit and Kerry can be the organized, tech-pro sidekick. Or, we could just be Lucy and Ethel.
I go and sit down on the couch. Ouch. Someone suggested I wear knee pads when doing the palm sanding and I don't remember that little nugget of advice until now, when my knees look like two lumps of ground beef. Hey, it's an occupational hazard when you are a skilled remodeler like me, I think to myself. My mother offers to vaccuum upstairs. I let her. When she finishes I thank her and she leaves. Several minutes later, dinner arrives hot and right to my door. God bless my dinner fairy! She made chili and corn bread and fruit salad. Oh, yum! We pray for all the people who helped us that day, then dig in. Genevieve has a head cold, so she just wants the fruit. I spoon some into a bowl for her. She peers in. "But, Mom, where's the salad?" In Genevieve's world, salad is synonymous with lettuce. I explain to her that fruit salad has no salad in it. This is acceptable to her and she polishes it off immediately, then requests more.
Dinner was excellent. There was almost no clean up involved and for some reason the kids are very tired, so I decide it's bedtime. By 9:00 the house is quiet and all are abed. Before I drift off, I remember to say a prayer of thanksgiving for the friends that God has given me. I also put in that I am confused as to why He is asking me to leave them and go down to MO, but I try not to dwell. He is smarter than me. He knows what He is doing. I know that we function as His hands here on earth. Today he used the hands of four generous women to help me through. Maybe in Missouri it will be my hands he uses to help someone else...
Entry for January 29, 2008
I am SO tired. Tell you all about it tomorrow...
Entry for January 25, 2008
I was so tired today. It was like anvils were attached to every appendage. I am so weighed down by the responsibilities of single parenting, selling the house, catching up because we are behind in school, etc., that it is taking it's toll on me physically and emotionally. My energy is gone. So, we did what we call "couch school." Everyone gets on the couch under a blanket and we do school on our laps. It is a cozy way to pass a cold winter morning.
When I realized that I was nodding off, I gave the kids a break and told them to play in the livingroom while I shut my eyes for a minute. They begin to plot and plan. They leave the room. They come back with supplies. There is a lot of activity. I get no true rest. Someone taps me on the shoulder. It is Noah with a small piece of cardboard. "We're doing a TV show, Mom. Here's your remote." The piece of cardboard was decorated with channel and volume buttons and a power button. I haul my sleepy body up into a semi-sitting position and press the piece of cardboard. "Click," I say. On the coffee table is a box with a rectangular hole cut into it. The Weather Channel is on. A small hand dressed in an old sock with a face on it appears in the cut-out "screen" and delivers the weather report.
Genevieve comes over and climbs up on my legs. She asks for the remote and says. "Click." The Children's Channel comes on. Three socked hands appear and announce that today's topic is the alphabet. The sock in the middle explains that the alphabet was invented by the Phoenicians, who were also called the Makers of Civilization because they were fisherman who travelled from port to port bringing the ideas from one culture to another. Genevieve is stone still, like she's having an apparition or something. It is amazing how kids are drawn to the TV, even a fake one. The sock trio sing the alphabet and have Genevieve guess some letters. She's having a ball.
After the Children's Channel we were treated to the Animal Channel where we learned that some cats, like the Scottish Fold, have folded ears. After the was the Myth Channel where we learned the difference between a Chinese dragon and a plain, mythological one. After this, TV is done for the day. Three heads appear on the screen. I am told that today's TV was brought to me by Bella, Noah and Angelina. We clap. Genevieve says, "Click." TV time is done.
We say the rosary afterward. Charlie comes home from school. The younger 4 kids go outside (briefly, because it is COLD), then have hot cocoa. We finish up school then eat dinner. Charlie initiates a game of chase with me while Genevieve watches. She stands off to the side clapping and laughing while the two of us collapse in a heap on the floor. The other children play with Legos for awhile and it's off to bed for everyone.
My afternoon TV watching sure perked up the day. Who needs a 60" plasma? Who needs Oprah? I have the best TV in town. Maybe even the world...
Entry for January 24, 2008
We had a doll hair mishap today. Isabella's beloved Elizabeth's hair somehow got melted. Bella is very distraught. I feel terrible. That doll is so precious to her. Her Nana makes handmade clothes for the doll and Bella dresses her in them all the time. I called the company to see if we could just get a replacement head instead of buying a new one. Noah says she needs a "complete headectomy."
Noah's birthday was yesterday. He's 11 now. He was my biggest baby at 9 lbs. 1 oz. He had jet black hair when he was born and it stuck straight up in a Mohawk. He looked like a Sumo wrestler. If you saw a baby picture of him, you'd never know it was the same child now. He has sandy colored hair and is thin, but athletic. No more Sumo wrestler.
Noah was born 6 years after Charlie. Charlie was a c-section and I wanted to do a VBAC with Noah and no epidural. I wanted to offer the labor up for a specific intention and so I prayed through the whole thing. I remember being at the hospital and being in labor and doing all my hoos and hees like a good Lamazer and all of a sudden I blacked out. When I came to I was on the floor hugging a metal box. Joe and the nurses flipped me back on the bed and all of a sudden I felt like I had to push. I managed to whisper "push" to Joe between hees and hoos.
Joe: I think my wife has to push.
Nurse: Impossible. We just checked her. She's at 7 cm. She has a way to go yet.
Me: Puuuusshhhh!
Joe: (breaking out into a cold sweat) "Ah! Go get the doctor!"
Nurse: But...
Joe: GO get the DOCTOR!!!
Nurse runs out, doctor runs in.
Doctor: Holy Crow! It's the head!
The head came out. That was the easy part. You know, they always make a big deal about the head. Now, I'm laying there thinking this and realizing that there are a pair of SHOULDERS that follow the head. No one ever mentions the shoulders. I decide I am not going to do it. Too big. Joe and the doctor are cheering me on. I try to push without really pushing. It doesn't work. I pray a Hail Mary. Somehow the strength comes to me. One huge push and here he is! The big red Sumo wrestler enters the world!
Doctor: WOW! I honestly did not think you could do this!
Me: Thanks for telling me AFTER I gave birth.
Noah was so big and I needed so many stitches that we achieved sort of a celebrity status in the maternity ward. Until two days later, when someone gave birth to a 10 lb. 11 oz. baby. Ouch...
******
We decided to head down to Smithville again in a couple of weeks. We seriously need some family time. At bedtime, I was telling Charlie this. He said, "Missouri, west, north." I explained that it is west, but it is south, not north. I continued to talk about the trip and he began moving away from me. Then he clamped his hand over my mouth. Coffee breath. I had downed a cup right before tucking him in. I apologized and moved away. He picked up the blanket and held it over my mouth. Oh, well. Payback for all those sardine kisses he's given me...
Entry for January 18, 2008
We were studying religion and one of the questions I asked Noah was, "Why shouldn't we place our faith in horse shoes, ouija boards or fortune tellers?" Noah answered that it is because it is the sin of superstition because it attributes power to a creature and not God. (He was correct) Then Angelina chimes in, "Yes, and it could be painful for the horse!"
OK, so I absolutely could NOT take it anymore. I looked like a Beatle. Something had to be done, so I gave myself a haircut. Yes, I did. It actually came out pretty good. I had picked up a texturizing scissors awhile back and that thing is a wonder. This is not the first time I have cut my own hair. Patience is definitely NOT one of my personal virtues. And thank goodness for hair putty. Spiky, messy hair doesn't reveal mistakes as much as perfectly coiffed hair does. That's why I opt for spiky and messy.
So, for those of you who e-mailed me that you were afraid of the shrub; the shrub is gone. But beware, she'll be back in about 6-8 weeks...
When I woke up yesterday I said a totally different prayer than I have been saying. Instead of the whole litany that I ususally go through (Oh, Jesus, please let our house sell soon, let Charlie get into a good school in MO, help us find a suitable house down there, good friends, blah, blah, blah), I simply prayed, "Lord, Your will be done." Amazing what God can do when you get out of His way...
The last thing that needs to get done to make the house move-in ready was refinish the upsatirs hallway floor. Since we are leaving soon for MO, there's very little time to do this. Joe will be home for less than 12 hours before we leave, so he can't do it. So, I decide that I am the best candidate for the job. I put out a message on the homeschool Yahoo group asking for a palm sander. I get an overwhelming response. A good friend calls and volunteers her sander and her husband drops it off Tuesday morning. I thank him profusely. I look at it and try to make sense of it. I start getting intimidated. It comes with a case of attachments. I put that in a corner without opening it up. The phone rings. It is my friend, Kerry. She's coming over with a floor sander. Whoa! A floor sander! It sounds even more intimidating than the palm sander, but it also sounds faster!
Kerry backs into the parking lot next to my house and I go out to help her carry the sander in. This thing is HEAVY. Not "Oh, gee, this bag of groceries is heavy" heavy. More like "Oh, @#%* I am going to @#%* DIE!!!" heavy. We count to three then hoist it out of the trunk. She starts to laugh. Very contagious. I join in. Here we are balancing the sander between us and just roaring with laughter. We begin to shuffle down the sidewalk with the thing and then realize that it has wheels on the bottom. Sheepishly, we lower it and push it to the porch, then hoist it up and get it in the house. Now, for the stairs. I bust out laughing again. Kerry joins in and I tell her that we are like the mice in Cinderella trying to get the key up the stairs. "Stop making me laugh!" she laughs. We compose ourselves and I get on the step and start to pull, while she stays at the bottom and pushes. (Did I mention this thing was HEAVY???) Slowly we pull it up. I am grunting like Monica Seles. Finally we get it to the top. Somehow we feel as if this was an episode of I Love Lucy. I get the curious urge to drink Vitameatavegamin while stuffing candy in my mouth and stomping on grapes. But it passes. Ethel, uh, Kerry, shows me how to use the thing. I try it out while she is with me. We both marvel at it's effectiveness. Then Kerry goes home with the promise to come get it tomorrow.
The phone rings. It is another one of my good friends. She said she heard that I am sanding today and she's bringing over dinner. I start to protest and she said she knew I was going to do that and to stop it because she's bringing over dinner anyway. Now, I stop because this particular friend happens to be an excellent cook, so I take the offer.
I round the kids up. I explain to them that schoolwork must be done independently and they must either do it in their rooms or in the classroom, but they may NOT come into the hallway. I show them the sander and how it works, to satisfy their curiosity, then send them into exile.
About 2 hours later I am done with as much as I could do with the floor sander. I shut it off and lean against the wall, exhausted. Those things are hard to use!!! The phone rings. It's Kerry. I tell her I am done. She can't believe it. Neither can I. About an hour later she shows up to pick up the sander. Now for the challenge. We need to get the sander into her van. Here we go! Down was easier than up. We take it easily to her car. As we were lifting it off the ground into the trunk we both get another attack of the giggles. It gets stuck on the bumper. We laugh harder. Finally it goes in. Just as Kerry closes the trunk, my parents show up. They want to see the floor. They are incredulous. My Mom asks when I am going to get the rest done. "Right now," I tell her. I'm on a roll. She offers to stay and make sure the kids don't do anything harmful or illegal while I am sanding. They need to be downstairs because the palm sander doesn't have a bag for the sawdust and I don't want them breathing it in. Another hour later I am done. Wow! I am feeling pretty cocky right now. I may even go for my own show on HGTV: Desperation Remodeling on a Non-Existant Budget. What do you think? I could be the creative, free-spirit and Kerry can be the organized, tech-pro sidekick. Or, we could just be Lucy and Ethel.
I go and sit down on the couch. Ouch. Someone suggested I wear knee pads when doing the palm sanding and I don't remember that little nugget of advice until now, when my knees look like two lumps of ground beef. Hey, it's an occupational hazard when you are a skilled remodeler like me, I think to myself. My mother offers to vaccuum upstairs. I let her. When she finishes I thank her and she leaves. Several minutes later, dinner arrives hot and right to my door. God bless my dinner fairy! She made chili and corn bread and fruit salad. Oh, yum! We pray for all the people who helped us that day, then dig in. Genevieve has a head cold, so she just wants the fruit. I spoon some into a bowl for her. She peers in. "But, Mom, where's the salad?" In Genevieve's world, salad is synonymous with lettuce. I explain to her that fruit salad has no salad in it. This is acceptable to her and she polishes it off immediately, then requests more.
Dinner was excellent. There was almost no clean up involved and for some reason the kids are very tired, so I decide it's bedtime. By 9:00 the house is quiet and all are abed. Before I drift off, I remember to say a prayer of thanksgiving for the friends that God has given me. I also put in that I am confused as to why He is asking me to leave them and go down to MO, but I try not to dwell. He is smarter than me. He knows what He is doing. I know that we function as His hands here on earth. Today he used the hands of four generous women to help me through. Maybe in Missouri it will be my hands he uses to help someone else...
Entry for January 29, 2008
I am SO tired. Tell you all about it tomorrow...
Entry for January 25, 2008
I was so tired today. It was like anvils were attached to every appendage. I am so weighed down by the responsibilities of single parenting, selling the house, catching up because we are behind in school, etc., that it is taking it's toll on me physically and emotionally. My energy is gone. So, we did what we call "couch school." Everyone gets on the couch under a blanket and we do school on our laps. It is a cozy way to pass a cold winter morning.
When I realized that I was nodding off, I gave the kids a break and told them to play in the livingroom while I shut my eyes for a minute. They begin to plot and plan. They leave the room. They come back with supplies. There is a lot of activity. I get no true rest. Someone taps me on the shoulder. It is Noah with a small piece of cardboard. "We're doing a TV show, Mom. Here's your remote." The piece of cardboard was decorated with channel and volume buttons and a power button. I haul my sleepy body up into a semi-sitting position and press the piece of cardboard. "Click," I say. On the coffee table is a box with a rectangular hole cut into it. The Weather Channel is on. A small hand dressed in an old sock with a face on it appears in the cut-out "screen" and delivers the weather report.
Genevieve comes over and climbs up on my legs. She asks for the remote and says. "Click." The Children's Channel comes on. Three socked hands appear and announce that today's topic is the alphabet. The sock in the middle explains that the alphabet was invented by the Phoenicians, who were also called the Makers of Civilization because they were fisherman who travelled from port to port bringing the ideas from one culture to another. Genevieve is stone still, like she's having an apparition or something. It is amazing how kids are drawn to the TV, even a fake one. The sock trio sing the alphabet and have Genevieve guess some letters. She's having a ball.
After the Children's Channel we were treated to the Animal Channel where we learned that some cats, like the Scottish Fold, have folded ears. After the was the Myth Channel where we learned the difference between a Chinese dragon and a plain, mythological one. After this, TV is done for the day. Three heads appear on the screen. I am told that today's TV was brought to me by Bella, Noah and Angelina. We clap. Genevieve says, "Click." TV time is done.
We say the rosary afterward. Charlie comes home from school. The younger 4 kids go outside (briefly, because it is COLD), then have hot cocoa. We finish up school then eat dinner. Charlie initiates a game of chase with me while Genevieve watches. She stands off to the side clapping and laughing while the two of us collapse in a heap on the floor. The other children play with Legos for awhile and it's off to bed for everyone.
My afternoon TV watching sure perked up the day. Who needs a 60" plasma? Who needs Oprah? I have the best TV in town. Maybe even the world...
Entry for January 24, 2008
We had a doll hair mishap today. Isabella's beloved Elizabeth's hair somehow got melted. Bella is very distraught. I feel terrible. That doll is so precious to her. Her Nana makes handmade clothes for the doll and Bella dresses her in them all the time. I called the company to see if we could just get a replacement head instead of buying a new one. Noah says she needs a "complete headectomy."
Noah's birthday was yesterday. He's 11 now. He was my biggest baby at 9 lbs. 1 oz. He had jet black hair when he was born and it stuck straight up in a Mohawk. He looked like a Sumo wrestler. If you saw a baby picture of him, you'd never know it was the same child now. He has sandy colored hair and is thin, but athletic. No more Sumo wrestler.
Noah was born 6 years after Charlie. Charlie was a c-section and I wanted to do a VBAC with Noah and no epidural. I wanted to offer the labor up for a specific intention and so I prayed through the whole thing. I remember being at the hospital and being in labor and doing all my hoos and hees like a good Lamazer and all of a sudden I blacked out. When I came to I was on the floor hugging a metal box. Joe and the nurses flipped me back on the bed and all of a sudden I felt like I had to push. I managed to whisper "push" to Joe between hees and hoos.
Joe: I think my wife has to push.
Nurse: Impossible. We just checked her. She's at 7 cm. She has a way to go yet.
Me: Puuuusshhhh!
Joe: (breaking out into a cold sweat) "Ah! Go get the doctor!"
Nurse: But...
Joe: GO get the DOCTOR!!!
Nurse runs out, doctor runs in.
Doctor: Holy Crow! It's the head!
The head came out. That was the easy part. You know, they always make a big deal about the head. Now, I'm laying there thinking this and realizing that there are a pair of SHOULDERS that follow the head. No one ever mentions the shoulders. I decide I am not going to do it. Too big. Joe and the doctor are cheering me on. I try to push without really pushing. It doesn't work. I pray a Hail Mary. Somehow the strength comes to me. One huge push and here he is! The big red Sumo wrestler enters the world!
Doctor: WOW! I honestly did not think you could do this!
Me: Thanks for telling me AFTER I gave birth.
Noah was so big and I needed so many stitches that we achieved sort of a celebrity status in the maternity ward. Until two days later, when someone gave birth to a 10 lb. 11 oz. baby. Ouch...
******
We decided to head down to Smithville again in a couple of weeks. We seriously need some family time. At bedtime, I was telling Charlie this. He said, "Missouri, west, north." I explained that it is west, but it is south, not north. I continued to talk about the trip and he began moving away from me. Then he clamped his hand over my mouth. Coffee breath. I had downed a cup right before tucking him in. I apologized and moved away. He picked up the blanket and held it over my mouth. Oh, well. Payback for all those sardine kisses he's given me...
Entry for January 18, 2008
We were studying religion and one of the questions I asked Noah was, "Why shouldn't we place our faith in horse shoes, ouija boards or fortune tellers?" Noah answered that it is because it is the sin of superstition because it attributes power to a creature and not God. (He was correct) Then Angelina chimes in, "Yes, and it could be painful for the horse!"
OK, so I absolutely could NOT take it anymore. I looked like a Beatle. Something had to be done, so I gave myself a haircut. Yes, I did. It actually came out pretty good. I had picked up a texturizing scissors awhile back and that thing is a wonder. This is not the first time I have cut my own hair. Patience is definitely NOT one of my personal virtues. And thank goodness for hair putty. Spiky, messy hair doesn't reveal mistakes as much as perfectly coiffed hair does. That's why I opt for spiky and messy.
So, for those of you who e-mailed me that you were afraid of the shrub; the shrub is gone. But beware, she'll be back in about 6-8 weeks...
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)