We have fun. This one's a doozie.

And here's how we do it.

Being a proud Cajun. Going to the circus. Putting flowers in our hair. Pulling out said hair with play mixers. Drawing. Playing video games and "Momma & Daddy." Catching beads at parades. Making silly faces. Visiting the fire station. Building our names. Watching the sunset.

Get the flash player here: http://www.adobe.com/flashplayer

I know there's a lot of videos, but at least watch the first and last...

Need a laugh?

Pardon the French.

Living Liturgically (or lack thereof)

Trying not to beat myself up too much today (although Ash Wednesday seems like an appropriate day for that kind of thing...), but I've been feeling the weight of neglect lately.

Last year, I felt sort of on the ball with stuff. I knew what feast days and liturgical seasons were approaching and I had my act together enough to work out a celebration, simple as it may have been, to honor and remember those important days. And in the mean time, I somehow found the time to work with Joan on school-type stuff. I made batches and batches of fruit and veggie purees, strategically placed at dinner. My house stayed fairly clean and picked up. Jude and I ran daily. I sewed lots of fun stuff. The laundry never seemed to get out of control.

But not lately.

I could blame my lack of time or energy on a million legitimate and illegitimate reasons (still trying to convince myself that Downton Abbey is legitimate), but the bottom line is that I'm having a hard time balancing it all.

Is that how parenting just is, (or life in general)? Phases of feeling put together and soon after, falling apart?

Maybe I just have to wait this out. But soon, I'd like to feel more balanced, more at peace again. It's why I'm looking forward to Lent. I feel like I'm starting off on the right foot (which is actually the wrong foot), realizing how weak I am and how much my life needs Christ for peace & balance, patience & grace. And sure, it could use a little less reality TV, too. But my answer to the age old, what are you doing for Lent? is really simple, and something I should have been doing anyway. But at least it puts me in my place, humbles me and hopefully prepares me for my Lord.

"Yet even now, says the Lord,
return to me with your whole heart,
with fasting, and weeping, and mourning;

Rend your hearts, not your garments,
and return to the Lord, your God.
For gracious and merciful is he, 
slow to anger, rich in kindness,
and relenting in punishment."

Joel 2:12-13

Verbatim (A Boogers and Poo Poo Special)

"Momma, when I get up in the morning, I'm with Papa - because Charlotte sleeps a long time. And you sleep a really long time..."
"I know. I sleep later than y'all."
"Yeah - and Papa John sleeps a really REALLY long time..."

"Hey Momma, remember when you breasted Charlotte?"

"Joan, don't eat your boogers."
"But I like them."
"You like them? But what do they taste like?"
"Bugs, I think..."
"That's gross. Don't eat them."
"But please?!"

"When me and Charlotte were a baby in your tummy, we were angels and then we fell out and then we grew up. Did you know that?"

"Joan, don't wipe your face on your blanket. Use a napkin."
"But I didn't have any sugar on my hands or anything..."
"It doesn't matter. Your getting it dirty and now we have to wash it."
"But I was just loving it..."(the blanket)

"When my boogers are soft, I want a tissue. But if they're hard, I just eat them."

"Momma, whatcha making?"

"Mashed potatoes."
"I don't like those."

"I know. But you know that's what's in a french fry, right?"
"No... french fries are made out of corn."

"No, honey - potatoes."
"But really it's corn. I know."

"Momma, I smell bacon coming out of my nose."

"I don't like to poo poo sometimes. I don't like to push it out. That's because I'm shy."

This is for Sarah

I met with my boss, Sarah, today for our it's been 3 months, let's re-evaluate how this arrangement is going meeting. And she basically threatened to fire me if I didn't post the stuff I supposedly capture during Evelyn's time with us. So, Sarah, here ya go.

Evvy's first parade!

I won't even tell you what she had to do to get those beads. 

What happens at Day Care, stays at Day Care.

That's better.

Uncle Jude is the best!

In my spare time, I manage their all-girl rock band.

This was taken 30 minutes after Sarah witnessed some not-so-welcoming behavior from my girls. It's proof that they can co-exist peacefully, as they do most of the time.

So, can I have Fridays off now?

Every girl's dream

Her own hand-made typeface.

And if you guys buy enough prints, maybe next year I'll get diamonds.

(But seriously, if you want a copy, don't buy from that store, ask us directly.)

3 Years Strong.

I haven't decided the tone of this post yet, so I'm just gonna keep typing and let's see where it goes.

February 12, 2009, we listed our house for sale. I can feel our foolish excitement and the only anxiety within us was more like, Man, what if it sells so quickly and Jude's not finished with school yet... maybe we can move in with the Herr's until the summer...


Jude didn't even have a new job yet. But it didn't matter, we knew God was leading us somewhere else. I guess we just assumed that when the new job offer came in, the house would close shortly - seems like a practical plan that God would approve of, right?

I still don't get why we're here, 3 years later with a For Sale sign still stuck in the front yard (strategically placed above our buried St. Joseph statue). Yeah, yeah - those holier than I would speak up now with their, "God works in mysterious ways - this might not make sense now, but in a few years it probably will," or their, "God teaches us patience, prayer, and faithfulness through life's burdens," or their "Here's an opportunity to offer it up for the souls in purgatory."

The same folks would then remind me that, "It could be so much worse," and that, "Jude has a good job," and that, "You've got a great rental house, though."

Sorry. That kind of stuff works 6 months to maybe a year of waiting. But when you start hitting the 2-3 year mark, you just want the lesson to be gone and the problem solved. All you can seem to mutter in nightly prayer is a mere, "Let it sell and let it be Your will." Forget the whole searching of the soul thingy because it's too cloudy in there from all the disappointment to even see the step before you.

My point is, it doesn't matter why. And spending more energy on that part isn't helping. We've conceded that we may never understand the why. Instead, I can only dwell on the how.

How have we made it this far, three years strong? A faithful God. Generous parents. Supportive friends. A great sense of humor. And a degree from Dave Ramsey's Financial Peace University.

At times I feel cursed and blessed at the same time. But if we have to carry this burden, still yet to be lifted, I am thankful that we're at least in the shape we're in.

This post feels unresolved right now, which is how my life feels at the moment. It feels awkward to end here and since I don't know what else to do, I'll end it like I do before sleep.


Let it sell and let it be Your will.
Amen.

I mean, c'mon God - we even got rid of Steve Stevens...

Making things makes life better: Birthday Gifts

Make life better... Needing a little more of that these days.

I'm bogged down by a few different things, all totally unrelated and because I don't even have it in me to write a post touching on them, I'll just fake it and put up pictures of these little things that I made.

A tool belt for Ollie. This was really simple and had great instructions.

 I really need to get these girls some cars and tools.

Kaitlin, you might see this before Val strolls up in Florida tonight to give it to you... but I'm posting it anyway. Hannah turned one this week and I hope she likes this little piggy washcloth, a little something so she remembers she's missed. I think Martha Stewart has a tutorial for this, but her pattern didn't fit my washcloths, so I improvised.

Is that what I sound like?

Joan has been really trying lately. I love her so much, but man, she wears me out somedays.

Last week she was puking and having diarrhea, so I gave her some slack for her very cranky attitude and rude behavior. But this week, she's fine. And no, she's not rude or cranky anymore - she's just herself - inquisitive, talkative, and careful.

Those are good traits. But she is incapable of going with the flow or being patient and waiting to see how things play out. She's got to know what we're having for lunch, snack, and dinner all by 8:30 am and if she doesn't care for those dishes, she wants to talk and discuss all the options. She's worried about what time Evelyn will come over or if school is today or tomorrow. She wants to know if she'll get to watch her movie and eat popcorn with it. She needs to know the day before, whether or not she can wear a dress the next day. It's not just the questioning that's hard to keep up with, it's her emotional reaction to the answers that are also exasperating, because most of the time, she doesn't like the answers.

I applaud her natural tendency to plan and expect - that's how her Momma rolls, too. But now having been on the receiving end of her worries and preparations, I might want to rethink my habits or at least the intensity with which I do them, for everyone else's sake. I mean, do I sound like that?

Is it weird that in December I drew sketches for our art booth for a local festival taking place in April?

And that I arranged where everyone will sleep on vacation with my extended family when we visit Alabama in July?

What about the mental preparations I've been making for the girls' birthdays in May and July?

And then there's the idea list for Valentine's Day, Lent, and Easter running around in my head.

I'm sure there's more, but I need to go update my itinerary for tomorrow's Cotton District work-day.

Verbatim

I'm posting this more for me. My kids (specifically Joan) frazzled me today and I need a reminder of how sweet, innocent, and funny they can be at times. Their behavior today really had me forgetting.

"Joan, how'd you get to be so cute?"

"Well, I just figured it out."

"Mom, you're the Queen of the Cleaners of the World."

"Joan, do you need to go to the bathroom?"
"Nope. My poo poo ran out."

"Joan, I'm so glad you're potty trained."
"Me too. But is Papa potty trained?"

"Don't worry, Joan, you won't be sick forever. You'll get better."
"Like in Heaven?"
"Yeah, you're right. We won't ever get sick in Heaven. And we won't be sad or hungry either."
"And no traffic?"