Angel over at Voice of Adventure just posted this challenge on her blog: The truth is I am SICK, SICK, SICK of people feeling all alone because they think everyone else is less screwed up than them. It's ridiculous. We all have our times we are flying high and our times we are doing a nose dive. Why do we all pretend? It's all a pack of lies wrapped in a bunch of arrogance. So I am going to give it my best shot and TRY to get real on this blog. This is a get real zone. No bull allowed. I love . . .
Swimsuit Shopping
Mark and I are going on a cruise this weekend, for our 12th anniversary. I am determined to buy a new, cute swimsuit that I feel comfortable in. Here is the tally for the search so far: Hours spent shopping: 8+ Money spent on babysitting so I can shop without kids underfoot: $45 Amount of money I'm willing to spend on the right suit: whatever it takes Stores I have been in: 22 Miracle Suits that actually perform a miracle: 0 Stores that carried ONLY triangle-top bikinis: 9 (thanks for . . .
Happy 4th, Indeed
We had a great block party today. It kicked off with our annual parade around the block. I decorated the kid's bikes with balloons. Jafta was excited, but India refused to sit on her bedazzled trike, so she got a ride on Mark's shoulders while cousin Tanner rode on her gig. Mark used his old youth ministry skills and let the kids in a game of water balloon toss. He got more in touch with his teenage roots when he and about seven other dads pelted each other with marshmallows well after the . . .
Oh Yeah, The Other Kid
I've mentioned that we've been doing some phobia management to prepare Jafta to NOT freak out during the neighborhood fireworks show tomorrow. We've worked up to watching actual fireworks in the front yard today. Yes, he is wearing a helmet (his decision), and yes, he has his hands over his ears. But our hard work has paid off: he watched several fireworks without screaming. Success! Um, one minor detail I forgot to address in all my earnest 4th of July planning. I HAVE ANOTHER CHILD. A . . .
Why I Love Target
Cowboy hats: $2.50 . . . . . . . . . . . . . . Watercolors: $1 Stuff to keep the kids occupied during long summer days: Priceless . . .
John Piper on the Theology of Adoption
Got five minutes? Sure you do! Check it out. . . .
Countdown to July 4th
We are preparing for 4th of July around here. Our neighborhood has a huge block party, and we live in a ghetto city were fireworks are legal, so after the kids have a parade and we stuff our faces, the adults put on a fireworks show right outside our house. Jafta was really excited about the party last year. That is, until the fireworks started. Then he started screaming like a caged animal. He was SO freaked out. We had to go inside, but I must admit, even with the doors closed, our house . . .
The Dummy Mouse
No, I'm not calling India a dummy. I'm referring to the "computer" I rigged up for my daughter, who really wants to play computer games like her big brother. However, every time I let her sit down to the computer, she would bang on the keys and move the mouse like a toy car, which usually resulted in opening files, prompting printer boxes, and any other number of right-click functions that threatened to crash the computer. Not to mention, her brother didn't like being kicked off his game only to . . .
Happy Birthday, Grandma!
. . .
The Memory-Keeper’s Son
I just looked at Jafta's baby book for the first time since we finalized his adoption. I hadn't really thought about looking at it - India just pulled it out. But as I sat there flipping the pages, I was flooded with memories of assembling it. Making a baby book is something that should be a labor of love for a mom, especially a first-time mom. Choosing memories for a baby book should be a beautiful thing. But for me, this book was an EXTREMELY painful process. In fact, I could barely finish it, . . .
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