Girl

As Brittney was walking down our sidewalk with Buddy, Sophia came running out of the house dressed like this and yelling, "Girl! Wait for your best girl!"

Emotions

God's Love

This morning when I picked up Sophia, her summer preschool teacher casually mentioned that Sophia had washed her feet. I didn't think much about it. Then I was in the middle of another crisis when I saw that she had posted this. Somewhere along the line, the parenting at our house might not be going so badly after all.

Warning. Long story but an awesome God moment. 

 Today at preschool (well most days... but today especially), my children taught me something. It all started when I was painting their little feet black and stamping them to make "ants" on a picnic blanket. The system went they sat in a chair, I put the paper on the floor, painted their feet with a brush, had them step on the paper, sit down, put their feet in a bucket of water, rubbed them to get the paint off, and then finally dried them with a towel.

 I did this for all seven kids. holding each little foot, washing it, and drying it off. As I was doing those things I would talk to my kids, smile, and talk. It ended up being a very connective experience for me. At that point... I had no idea how much it was really going to be. 

 Like I said we were making "ants on a picnic blanket", and to soothe my OCD about having only seven pieces of paper instead of eight (I am going to put them all together and display them like they were all a piece of one large "blanket"), I decided that I would do the same steps as above, but with my own feet. After all, you must have an even number. My children were all done and doing their own independent choice time. I figured I would just do my feet quick so I could get it over with.
As I sat down in the chair, I began to paint the bottom of my right foot black, and one of kiddos wanted to come over and watch. I said she could. She sat across from me in another chair, and watched me paint, stamp, and dip my foot into the bucket of water. As I was rubbing the paint off my feet, the child looks at me and says, "Teacher, can I clean your feet?". I of course said, "yes", not knowing the impact it would make on me. 

 That little person grabbed my disgusting foot, held it in her little hands and began to rub my foot until it was clean. She then picked it up out of the water and dried it with the towel. In between each toe, over and under the arch, and my heel. The whole time she was looking at me with a smile. 

 That's when it hit me. This overwhelming sense of love and honor. This little person chose to serve me. She chose me and my disgustingly dirty feet over her classmates and all the toys she could want. She chose to honor me and humble herself. Wow. Talk about eye-opening. 

 There it was, the humanization of God's love for me in a 4-year-old, blonde haired girl. 

 Thanks, Lord, for the reminder of how you came to earth, humbled yourself, and chose to serve even the most undeserving of sinners. 

 I heard you today, God. I think I even saw you.

Road Trip

I'm not very good at doing life right now. My house is a disaster, there are piles of dirty laundry, the kids have been eating donuts, hot dogs and soup for the last three days, etc, etc, etc.


My kids have learned that I'm not in a good mood and it's better just to steer clear of me. My husband doesn't know whether to be supportive or run away quickly.


On a good note, last night, I put all my negative energy to work and cleaned nearly the entire garage and moved a hutch. This morning, I'm cleaning the kitchen and unpacking the boxes for the hutch. I think I'm afraid if I stop moving, I won't be able to start again.


I leave this afternoon for MN to pick up my niece, Shelby. I'll just do a quick turn-around and come right back home. Then tomorrow, we leave for Rapid. By we, I mean just Steve, Shelby and me. (I always want to type 'I' and it bothers me that the correct grammar is 'me' in this sentence. Although it seems like everything bothers me lately, so that's nothing new) Anyway, we'll spend the weekend with my brother, his girlfriend and his three kids, hopefully hooking up with my bio mom sometime. There's a family get-together on Sunday night. Then Steve and I will bring my niece and nephews back to MN on Monday.


There was a huge glitch with Steve. I wasn't planning on him going with me, then he wanted to go, then was scheduled to work, then his supervisor gave him Friday and Monday off, then a couple of days ago, he realized she never gave him Saturday off. so he couldn't go. I told him I didn't care one way or the other but I couldn't handle one more thing that was up in the air right now. His supervisor must have felt sorry for him because she is working for him on Saturday. So now he's going again. I divide up all our kids because I knew I couldn't handle taking them this weekend. Plus, I don't have much money so it would cost to much to take them anyway.


I told Steve that there is a difference between a vacation and a road trip. A vacation, you save money and then use it to have fun while you're gone. On a road trip, you have money for gas, take some snacks and water in the vehicle, maybe utilize the dollar menu at a drive thru, go and come back home. I'm trying to convince him that this is definitely a road trip and not a vacation!


You have no idea how many things I had to delete and re-rewrite in this just because I couldn't stick with a complete train of thought. I think I'll get back to organizing my entire house because it seems to be the one thing I can handle right now.

Taylor Says

I found this note on the house phone last night.

Spelling has never been Taylor's strong suit.

When I asked her what was wrong with the phone, she said, "It's working fine. I just didn't want anyone to use it so the battery would charge so I could talk to Denae all day tomorrow. "

Give Me a Hand