How to give a Bear a bath

Step 1.    Heat up the chicken nuggets. (no one likes them frozen)

Step 2.   Gather every towel you own and bring them all into the bathroom. Even if you think it will
              only take 1 or two to dry the Bear, you will still need a few for the floor, the fixtures, the
              walls and of course, yourself.

Step 3.  Pray. Any prayer will do if it gives you the mental fortitude to endure an hour of coaxing,
             bribing, pushing, shoving, pleading and the (hopefully) subsequent scrubbing, rinsing,
             repeating because it is ALWAYS necessary, and drying of the Bear.

Step 4. Take a break. All of this preparation is pretty exhausting.

Step 5. Get distracted, procrastinate and otherwise completely forget the task at hand until there is
            nothing further from your mind than bathing the Bear.

Step 6

(sorry, I was away from the desk)

Step7. Explain to the children that are now home making it impossible to easily bathe the Bear that
           ALL of the towels are in the bathroom because it's Bears bath time. No they cannot help. No
           they cannot watch. No...hey...who ate the chicken nuggets?

Step 8. Look at the calendar to see if tomorrow is a good day to bathe the Bear.

*sigh*

Now I have to go buy more chicken nuggets.

The Bear

Awesomeness!

Rushing and running this morning. I don't even know why. I got up late but we still started devotions on time and the kids were on schedule...never the less, we were running late. I'm rushing Azy along, trying to help him understand the concept of; "If you don't hurry, you will miss breakfast." That should have worked because missing a meal is not something he is ever fond of. He isn't called Moose for nothing, but no. He was blathering on about wanting to stick his hand into the squash leaves to find the fat black and yellow spider that was there yesterday.

It was already 7:44 when we stepped onto the sidewalk. usually we are there by then. I was rushed and frustrated. I was a little on the harsh side as well, for which i am sorry. I didn't yell at him or anything..but I did pull him along a bit roughly. As we rushed along i was given the blessing of seeing 2 of the most beautiful things in my little world. 1st was the Firemen raising the flag. Such an inspiring moment when I see that symbol of the freedoms and honor I believe in with my whole heart raised above the treeline for all to see. Then, as we hurried past and into the school parking lot I turned towards the cafeteria doors and there was a rainbow. Not a huge one, but vivid and beautiful. I wanted to stop and take a picture, and honestly, i should have. I should have taken that moment to embed into my children's minds that Gods miracles are always worth being late to mans appointments for. Of course, i didn't. I encouraged them to look at it as we scuttled through the door and headed into school for breakfast.

Now I sit here and realize, I was given a small gift and I chose to waste it's full potential for what I had on my mind at that moment.  It always amazes me how God has a way of chastening us without any pain, fear or condemnation. I am not rebellious, or evil. Just saying that it could have gone differently. I am grateful for those two blessings today and hope I get a chance to take a picture of a rainbow to share. They really are wonderful miracles of a loving God. :)

Chicken and Pickle Soup

   It seems when one gets sick we all do. AJ had it first, which is strange in and of itself because he is the healthiest of the bunch. He was laid out all of Labor Day weekend. It's just a head cold, but it's an angry one. AJ and Josiah share a room so of course Jo got it next. The sad part is that Jo's immune system is very low because of his CP, so when he gets sick it's like he has the flu every time. After 2 weeks of the bug floating around my house the small ones and i finally succumbed to it's malicious charms. Ugg!

   How do i handle 3 sick children when i am sick myself? I have no idea. I do know that what i feed them is my small way of coping, of controlling my chaotic circumstances. Not only do i get the benefit of enjoying the fruits of my labors, ie. the food, but i also get the satisfaction of being connected to the cure, in a strange sort of way. True or not, it's my reality and it works for me :)

  Chicken and Pickle Soup is something my 4 1/2 yr old, Moose, likes to joke about.  When i ask him what he wants for lunch, if he wants to be funny, he says "Chicken and pickle soup!". He told me last year it was what he wanted for his birthday dinner. It's funny to me because this idea didn't come from a TV show or anything he heard here, he just made it up. I love it. His creativity is a constant source of interest and humor.

  The menu for the Adams family sickbed is as follows; Lots of water and OJ (of course. How could years of motherly advice be wrong?) Hot water with lemon and honey (this is especially good for sore throats!) and of course, Chicken and pickle soup, which consists of roasted, dark meat chicken, rice and whatever veggies i can add. Tonight it was Garlic, celery, carrots, butternut squash and corn. It was delicious! We had some easy sweet and savory biscuits to go with it (I coat the bottom of a baking dish with a generous slathering of butter, sprinkle over it salt and onion powder then drizzle honey all around before adding 2 packages of basic Pillsbury style biscuits. the result is nothing short of miraculous:) Nothing makes one feel more right with the world during a boxing match with a nasty head cold than some warm, buttery biscuits a steaming, hot, mug of chicken and pickle soup :)

9/11/11

Good Morning,

It seems strange and yet fitting that my first blog would be on such a melancholic occasion. I'm not the greatest writer in the world, nor am i the most intellectual, i am however filled with so many thoughts and ideas to share that sometimes i feel as if i will implode if i do not share them and i have an intense and undeniable desire to do so in a public type forum. I have no problem with feedback, as long as it is kept civil, so feel free to respond at will.

We all have so many memories of this day. Even the youngest of Americans who were alive at the time, even if they were still kicking in their mothers womb, has been irreversibly impacted by the attack on our country that came that fateful September day. I sat this morning and showed a memorial book to my youngest son, who is 4. As i did my best to help him understand what the tragic and beautiful pictures represented to me, i was saddened to find within my own heart a kind of disappointment with the direction the American people have chosen in the last 10 years. I was forced to look at the society around me in an objective manner and ask a difficult question; have our enemies succeeded at their ultimate goal of tearing at the fabric of our culture?

There is a disquiet within me when i ask this question; a kind of patriotic squeamishness. I believe that we believe we are still strong as a nation, that we are a community, that we have not changed for the worse but come closer as a kind of "American Family", but is what we believe true? I look at the press and see our disappointment with the government, I see our disinterest in the military activity overseas, except to protest of course, I see our financial issues as a country...all of these things are just the "tip of the iceberg" as they say. We still sing the national anthem at our High School ball games. We still honor our vets here in middle America, but honestly, if I have to really step back and look at it, is there a proactive attitude towards patriotism here? Is there an interconnectedness that comes from a group of diverse individuals coming together for a unified purpose through the catalyst of tragic events? Are we more patriotic? Are we further entrenched in the belief system that gave birth to our country from the bloodied and beleaguered fields of war?

I'm waiting for the Air Raid/Tornado siren this morning. Will it go off? Do we really want to remember? 10 minutes. In 10 minutes will i hear the evidence that the truth of this tragedy isn't a forgotten or uncomfortable issue couched in a political correctness that is choking out the very soul of what makes us Americans? I don't know. Maybe. The truth has to be; what does it matter? Personally i would very much like to know that the community i belong to here in NW Indiana is more patriotic than just picking up cheap t-shirts and car magnets from Wal-Mart to commemorate the occasion. I'd like to believe that the people i pass by as i walk my daughters to school in the mornings believe as i do; we have the privilege of living in the most amazing, beautiful and unique country and that we would do whatever was necessary to protect our families, our communities and our way of life. Regrettably,that's not what i hear in the stands of those High School ball games. It's not what i hear in line at the local grocery store. It's not what i hear at the PTA and school board meetings.

5 minutes....Back to the question; does it matter? If i do not hear that siren is it going to change what i believe about God and Country? If i don't hear that reminder of the vicious attack on America as a citizenship of diverse humanity that chooses to come together each day and walk out our acceptance of our inalienable rights in every venue from that grocery store check out line to the walk to school every morning, will it dishearten me? Yes, but it will not take away my belief in what this country is and what it stands for. I am a patriot, through and through. I say the pledge with heart, I cry when the Star Spangled Banner is sung (correctly!), I vote, I pray and regardless of whether the community i belong to believes as a whole that this day should not be forgotten, i will choose not to forget and i will teach my children what i remember, the way that i remember it.

1 minute ago was the exact anniversary of the first attack on American soil since Pearl Harbor. There was no siren. It is left to me, to you, to all of us, to remember.