...and that's what little girls are made of

"Is it time to make my cake now? Right now!? I'll wash my hands...can I get my thing on, you know, my Leah thing? Oh yeah, my apron! Do I pour like this? How many eggs?!! Four? But I'm going to be five, mommy! We should do five eggs! The mixer is loud...yes, I'll hold it very carefully."

"That's a LOT of chocolate, isn't it, and chocolate chips. It's hard to stir!"

"I scraped all I could, mom. Is it ready now? Oh, right, we have to cook it!"

"Guys, come on, come on! It's finally time to ice my cake!"

"I'll be verrry careful licking the knife, mom."

"Happy Birthday to Leah, happy birthday to you."

So pitiful, so sweet

Illness has hit the household this week, starting on Tuesday. It starts with a pretty rotten fever, and after 24-36 hours (depending on the kid), the fevers subside and are replaced with a hacking cough that looks and sounds painful. Fun!

Leah was the fourth to get it (I was kind of thankful, because at least we know she'll be better on her birthday this week!). She complained of a headache late one evening, so we knew she would probably wake up with a fever the next morning if the pattern held true. She came down around 5 a.m. or so, crying, and saying she "can't sleep in that bed."

"Why not?" we asked.

"Every time I get back in it, it hurts me."

Oh, sweetie. So we set her up on one of the couches, which are already sick-room ready. That whole day, when we would ask her if she needed anything, she'd say, "I want to move. This couch hurts me."

She was most comfortable in our laps, all curled up, and would fall asleep there and truly rest. It reminded us of how she was the one of our babies who loved most to sleep on us. It's like all their baby patterns show up again when they get sick. Delaney, for example, was just A.Ok on that couch and didn't want to be touched or have any loud sounds and has barely eaten for about 4 days. Memories.

My first tagging thing

Ok, sister. Here goes:

The Rules:
1. Go to the 4th folder where you keep your pictures on your computer.

2. Post the 4th picture in the folder.

3. Explain the photo.

4. Tag 4 fellow bloggers to join in the fun!

Explain? Thankfully, I just cleaned up and organized my Pictures folder last week, so I landed on a recent pic of -- what else? -- one of my children. This is my oldest, Levi, 9, who is good at messing up posed shots, but will gleefully jump in front of a shot he is not supposed to be in. I'm taking all of his playful inner self in while he's still young enough to be willing to show it to me.

And now, I will break the tagging rules in my first-ever blog tag, by not tagging anyone else. Sorry!

Ahem.

Kierkegaard, Provocations:

"The Bible is very easy to understand. But we Christians are a bunch of scheming swindlers. We pretend to be unable to understand it because we know very well that the minute we understand, we are obligated to act accordingly. Take any words in the New Testament and forget everything except pledging yourself to act accordingly. My God, you will say, if I do that my whole life will be ruined. How would I ever get on in the world? Herein lies the real place of Christian scholarship. Christian scholarship is the Church’s prodigious invention to defend itself against the Bible, to ensure that we can continue to be good Christians without the Bible coming too close. Oh priceless scholarship, what would we do without you?"

Fingerpainting Fun

Aren't I just the fun mom? Seriously, you can tell we don't do this often (enough). Best moment of the day: we had extra pillowcases that I had been meaning to make some into paint smocks. So I showed Levi and Delaney how to cut the holes in one, and told them they were going to cut the rest to fit each other and their siblings. Levi didn't miss a beat -- "certain Doom!" (OK, you had to be there. I'm still laughing.)

Anyway, enjoy the pics. Delaney's finished product is the last pic...she named it "Mind Control". I'm not kidding. Not hard to tell who their science-fiction-reading-story-telling-father is, is it?

Perspectives

Me, in kitchen cutting lettuce for salad. Seven-year-old daughter watching intently.

D: Mom, you're really good at cutting that lettuce.

Me: Thanks.

D: (Long sigh). I can't wait until I'm a mom.

Me (chuckling, expecting a comment about cooking) : Oh, yeah? Why's that?

D: You get to buy your own clothes.

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And another interesting perspective from my day (can you spot the budding engineer?)...

Confessions and musings

I was terrible today.

I was helping my son read a book to me, something he gets quite excited about these days. It was near the end of a long day (notice how I slide that excuse in right away?). He started struggling more about halfway through the book, and my promptings to "sound it out", as I pointed with him at the unfamiliar words, were being completely unheeded. He has the habit of looking over the pictures incessantly while completely ignoring the word itself when he doesn't get the word right away. Yes, I know he's trying to pick up clues, but then he just starts guessing. Tonight, I was clearly unprepared mentally for this battle and let it get to me. Instead of patiently and kindly directing him back to the word and going through each letter sound, on one particularly frustrating (to me!) page, I let my voice rise and snapped at him for his bad habit. When I do that with some of my other children, no big deal. With him, his already-shaky confidence takes a nosedive and we have to pick up the pieces.

I hate it when I do this. It's seriously the last thing he needs from his mother.

I was thinking about this tonight as all my children -- including this sweet, sweet boy -- showered me with goodnight kisses and "I love you"s" and all the things that make bedtimes perfect. How quickly they forget how terrible I am! How they love me anyway?! Is puberty defined as the moment children wake up and realize their parents have been messing up every day of their lives so far?