ARCHIVES — September 2008
the moon
My youngest came up to me tonight and whispered this in my ear ….
Mommy … do you want to know the secret of how dust gets on the moon? You take a rock and put it in a sling shot. Then you shoot it to the moon and then when it gets there it leaves dust on the moon. That is how dust gets on the moon.
This is her homemade slingshot built especially for her by my oldest. She loves to shoot it. Her tongue sticks out as she carefully takes aim … but as hard as she tries, the rocks never go very far.
till the end
This is my best friend. She is closer to me than any sister ever could be. She’ll be my best friend until the day I die. Over the past 15 years we’ve shared laughs, tears, smiles, hugs, secrets, classes, long walks, pranks, food, gossip, dances, clothes, vacations, wild excursions, friends, advice, living spaces, shoes, arguments, bible studies, weddings, sobs, puke, births, kids … I could go on and on. When you’ve done life for so long with someone and your friendship has endured more junk than any normal friendship could or would ever weather through – spending time together with that friend is like putting on your favorite super soft T-shirt, snuggling up under your favorite cozy blanket while drinking the most amazing cup of coffee. That is what I got to do this weekend, I got to spend time with my favorite friend.
Bonus: our hubbies … they are tight and our kids … yeah, they love each other too!
Her youngest … he gives out some of the sweetest kisses
The middle – he is the funniest kid you’ll ever meet. I can’t help but have a huge grin just thinking of him.
The oldest – Miss Independent. She and my oldest girl are only 2 months apart in age.
Hers and mine.
let's take a drive
What is a rode trip like with a mom, a dog and 3 kids crammed together in the back seat of a car that has a broken DVD player?
Can’t keep the hands off each other … torturing the dog by playing with her leash.
Tortured dog and crazy almost 9 year old.
Smushing faces … long blank stares out the window
Laughter that almost makes them wet their pants … constant sniffing of the air vents … and those famous “stop it” “that’s enough” “I SAID QUIT” “stop touching each other” “no talking for 5 minutes” “stop asking me how much further” mommy eyes.
my aunt's a grandmother!
Meet baby Sam. Isn’t he so precious!
We got to hang with the family this week and cuddle with this cutie.
This is my aunt’s first grand baby. She is so proud.
soccer fans
Today he jammed his finger. Today he only got to play goalie one quarter due to his injury. Today he did not score any goals. Today his teamed got creamed.
BUT … today he had two sets of grandparents on the sidelines cheering him on. Today, despite the loss and swollen finger, he wore a huge smile knowing he was very loved.
(I really really want a zoom lens!!!!)
Don’t the little sisters just look so thrilled!
made up Mexican
#3 keeps asking me how to say certain things in “Mexican”. She asks, “Mommy, how do you say – yes I like it – in Mexican.” All I know to say is “si”. The tiny bits of Spanish I know are the few words I have picked up from over hearing Dora on our TV. So, when I can’t give her a translation, she replies, “Well, this is how I think they say it.” Then she does some sort of Span-english. Like for No, she says that in her language it is “No-WHAH”. So she is going around wearing a prideful grin telling everybody “No-WHAH”.
I think it’s time we all learned some real Spanish.
goalie
So far I am loving soccer this year. There are like 2000 kids – seriously – involved on our county league. I am amazed at how organized it is, how nice and helpful the refs are and #1’s coach is great! #1 really wanted to play goalie and yesterday his coach gave him a chance. When he blocked his first goal I teared up. Later he scored his first goal, only goal for their team, and I got mushy all over again. I am really proud of him. He is trying his best. He works at his drills at home and I can tell he is really improving. It’s so fun sitting on the sidelines cheering for his team. Some parents are reading the paper, talking on the phone, not us. We’re into every second of the game.
His team lost last night and as he was walking to the car with his dad he said, “I hate that we lost, but at least we lost with style.” He’s such a character.
His sister on the sidelines wearing one of his jerseys.
daddy's girls
They completely adore him and I don’t blame them.
busy and an end to suffering
Now that school has begun again around our home, plus soccer, tennis and all that other ya ya stuff that eats of my time, I haven’t had much time to shoot. I am dying to get my camera out and go crazy on someone.
Okay … switch subjects. Here’s a story that I feel needs to be documented.
The other morning while I was monitoring Macy’s outside time, I still can’t trust her to not eat cat poop, I noticed she began sniffing something in the grass. As I approach the area to further inspect, I see something brown and furry. I freak and yell her to get away from it but I wasn’t surprised. We live in the city and the property line in our backyard ends our cute and sweet little historical district where we live. Plus there is a 4 foot span between us and our back neighbors where the power lines run and it’s completely over grown with “stuff”. So, furry creatures caught by our cat is not really abnormal for us.
I get up close to it and the rat, yes mom a big huge brown rat, lay there balled up in the grass. It was still breathing. Flies were hovering viciously over it. Ants were beginning to swarm it and the rat could barely move a paw to try and flee from me. From it’s top side, it actually looked kind of cute. It wasn’t mangled in anyway but it was obviously suffering. I knew right then I needed to help it and help didn’t mean take it to the local vet. As I turned to head back into the house #3 comes out, spots it immediately and wants to round up the others to come take a look. I ask her to finish her breakfast and to not come back outside until I say so. She resists but heads inside while I go to the shed. I pick two yard tools … a shovel and a pitch fork. I can’t decide which one to use. I try to plan it out and I think one quick blow to the neck should finish the rat off. So I return to find it in the same spot and pick the shovel first. Thinking one blow would do the trick I was shocked when it began to twitch and wiggle and so I go again, MORE twitching – flaring around – legs kicking out hard. Again and again I kept trying to make each hit quick but the thing wouldn’t die. Finally after like 7 hits it’s dead and I feel horrible. I turn to look back at the house and there are both girls staring at me out the back door. Now I feel like a killer.
I pick it up in the pitch fork and place it in the shovel and toss it in between the double fences where the power lines run. I put up my tools. Head into the house. #2 meets me at the door and bluntly demands, “Mommy. Pour me some cereal and then tell me just what were you doing out there!” I serve her cereal and then all the kids sit and the table and ask, “Why did you kill that rat!” I tried my best to explain how I felt that I was doing the humane thing and it’s different killing an animal that is suffering than just catching something and then torturing it or just killing it to kill it. Thankfully my answers appeased them. None of them had anything to say except #1 said, “Very interesting.” and then he walked away.
