Seconds, anyone?

 

Today was one of those days where half an hour after supper should have been finished, you stand dazed in front of the open refrigerator door waiting for a blast of cold air to inspire you with an outstanding, easy and quick gourmet dish that can be made with the half a ham that has been taking up the fridge for the last three weeks. Or maybe even four. And then after scouring the Internet for WAY TOO LONG you find out that there’s really nothing that can be done with the ham if you don’t have the stamina for rolling out crusts or if you don’t have potatoes. But you THINK you have potatoes and start boiling celery and carrots and then realize the only potatoes you have are sweet, and instead of pineapple juice you have orange, and so yes you are halfway through the recipe when you realize you are mentally (and cuisine-ally?) mixing two different recipes with your substitutions but life’s an adventure so what the heck!!!??!!!

  

Right, kids? Gagging is an adventure! Live it up, Abraham! (But keep it down.)

  

And as you scrape the remaining two-thirds of the dish into the garbage because (shocker) no one took seconds, you smile (or was that a grimace?) at the thought of all the money you’re saving.

  

You know. One of THOSE days.

  

I could just eat her up ...

  

  

  

... and I know she'd taste like sherbet.

  

 

Breaking my arm patting my back

Yessirreebob, that's me. Homeschoolblogger Blogger of the Week.

  

I'm not sure whether to take this as a compliment or as a shot in the arm to err... um ... get  blogging. Because, you know, I consider it a major accomplishment to blog once a week, and very little of my content has to do with homeschooling (unless you consider HOME to be the class and ME to be the student). Kind of like the award you give to the kid you most need to impart a little effort. Or like the individualized letters my English professor handwrote for each of her students. Mine said, "You have a zest for life." My husband's said, "You're such a trooper." Hee, hee.

          

But I am smiling. Someone besides my dad (who, by the way, is YessirreeBob) read my blog!

      

And Benjamin (8) will be quite impressed. Would it be going overboard to laminate it and display it on the fridge?

  

   

 

Easter

 

We’re headed to Staunton tomorrow, where we’ll spend the night at the house of some Very Fun People and then attend brunch and worship at Staunton OPC.

    

That means all festivities have to happen today.

  

So far, we’ve dyed Easter eggs. Surprisingly, there were no tears, and the children (almost all of them) enjoyed a hard-boiled egg with lunch.

    

     

     

  

    

Aaaah, the signs of spring: deeply brown-eyed boys in yellow jumpers with running noses and blue lips from trying the dye water (didja enjoy that vinegar?):

  

     

And what is it about pink and orange that seem so RIGHT together today?

   

  

Trying the "fruits" of our labors:

  

   

   

And we'll just put that right here along with the rest of the lunch rejects:

  

     

And to the disgust of our father, we'll lick the rest of the mayonnaise off of our finger. 

 

   

We’ve got some baking to do (and I’m still trying to decide how big of a “we” this is going to be), and I’m muddling over the logistics of doing an egg hunt in the back yard. Oh, and what we’re going to have for supper.

 

And whether “cleaning out the van” counts as a festivity.

   

Another Cousin ...

    

This is not a picture of my newest son. It's a picture of his newest cousin, who is now almost 4 weeks old (am I counting right?). I love his expression here because you can clearly see that his facial features fit right in with his two brothers'.

   

This is also a picture of the first baby sweater I have ever finished knitting.

  

Welcome, Nathanael. And thank you for being the motivation for me to finish a project!

   

 

At Play

      

 

Yesterday, the children were playing House. (I knew they were playing House because they were being nice to each other: “Sister, do you want to help me make my bed?” “Why, yes, Sister, I do. Let me finish folding your pajamas, and then I’ll fluff your pillow.”)

   

Miriam (4) was holding Gideon (7 wks.), Lily (6) had Salem (7 wks.), and Eden (3) had her dolly. Miriam instructed, “And this is my child, and you’re holding my other child, and Eden is watching my other child, and Jonathan can be one of my children.”

  

“But where are the other children? This isn’t enough.”

  

“Oooh, I know! They can be at school and they will be home soon.”

  

I absent-mindedly (because it’s gone for good) listened to their play when it struck me: Their dream? What they want to be when they grow up? What they pretend to be more often than anything else?

  

Is ME. Only it’s a more perfect, calmer, fun-loving version. But the basic elements are there: the children, and more children, and cooking, and cleaning, and more children.

  

This is PLAY to them.

  

And then I remembered: That was play to me, too. I wanted nothing more than to be able to Windex the mirrors and bounce a baby on my hip while stirring something yummy in a bowl. I played three games: House, School, and Church.

  

When did I stop “playing”?

   

Huh.

  

Today, while the littles napped ...

    

    

    

    

    

   

    

    

    

Mentos and Diet Coke. Forgettable on their own but ... errrr ...  rememberable together. As Benjamin said, "Mom, this is something you can put on the Internet."