Praise God is almost Easter!!

Yes, praise Him for a new day! And it can't come soon enough. Not for reasons you might guess, though. I need daddy and gramma to rescue my children. I think I'm on the verge of a mommy melt-down. Let's see, in the last 3.5 hours, this is how I've spent it:
-Just shy of 2 hours listening to LaRue scream at the movies (outside the door of course). I couldn't leave because The Princess and Farmer Boy were engrossed in Hannah Montana. And, I had just spent 3 weeks wages to pay for tickets and the kids' supper. Yes, that did include 3 bags of candy, 2 slushees and a ton of popcorn. LaRue didn't just cry. She wailed. And wailed. And wailed some more. All while pounding her hands, feet, head and every other appendage on the floor or wall. What the heck? None of our other 3 kids did that!@!!!???? Finally, the movie guy gave her a slushee. That worked.
For about 5 minutes.
-We left the movie and I drove around long enough for her to go to sleep. At least that's what I told the kids. Actually, I just needed a time-out. And, since dad is in the field, that's the closest I could get to having "alone time."
-Once we got home, Cookie Monster got busy. I tried to finish cleaning the main floor. Ya know, the Easter Bunny can't come into a messy house.
At least that's what I've told the kids. Truth is, I just don't like a bunch of dirty clothes, spoiled sippy cups, wrappers and whatever else they've discarded just inside the front door in the pictures. Wouldn't that make a great scrapbook page: "The Easter Basket Hunt." The journaling would say something like: somewhere amidst the piles of clothes, blankets, toys, homework, books, sippy cups and dog hair we found the baskets. And oh, look, there's a Peep rabbit covered in dog hair. Yum. Happy Easter! Everybody looked so cute! Let's call mom in the loony bin!"
-While I was cleaning, within a 13 1/2 minute time frame, here is what Cookie Monster accomplished:
-30 seconds jumping on the couch, throwing the blankets mom had just folded. He stopped once I threatened him with his life.
-An entire, yes ENTIRE roll of toilet paper unrolled. AND emptied into the toilet.
-Bathwater splashed ALL over the ENTIRE bathroom. No need to worry about the toilet paper. It was already wet!
-Dumped a nearly-full bottle of cranberry juice in the kitchen. He said he was getting a drink and I said just water. Yeah, well......
Oh, and this was accomplished hours after he had done one of the best things of the day: turned on the blender while it was full of a smoothie mixture --------------with the lid OFF. Yes, I was quite annoyed. I had just scrubbed the kitchen (minus the floor) yesterday.
Thank the Lord for big brothers. Farmer Boy rescued him and took him up to watch TV.
Gramma will rescue him tomorrow.
Thank the Lord it's Easter
Gotta go LaRue is digging in the toilet.

It's a Holiday

Today as Christians, we celebrate Good Friday, the day Jesus was crucified. If we truly are repentant, it should be one of the most noted days of our year. Guess The Princess has a REALLY guilty conscience.
She said she didn't want to go help dad on the farm today because "it's a holiday. It's Good Friday."
Where does she come up with this stuff? I know they've been talking about it at school, at the LUTHERAN SCHOOL they go to. Maybe that's the same place she learned about dodgeball and being fair (see the previous entry). Oh, she makes me laugh.

Picked last

Do you remember being the last one picked for the kickball team? For dodgeball? Maybe you were lucky enough not to be the last one. I know what that can do to your self-esteem. Well, apparently The Princess does not. Or, maybe she's smarter than I think.
Yesterday The Princess and Farmer Boy were playing with Legos in the other room. They were fighting about something. I heard Princess yell, "Fine. I'm not going to be on your dodgeball team."
"So," Farmer Boy said calmly. "You don't decide that. The captain does."
(FYI: Dodgeball is one of their favorite games to play at recess.)
The Princess quipped, "Well, when I am the captain, I won't pick you!"
"I don't care," Farmer Boy replied as the Princess stormed out of his bedroom.
I couldn't help but laugh. The fight had nothing to do with school, dodgeball or anything associated with it. I think they were arguing over who could play with the Legos in which spot of the room.
How funny she thought that was how she could hurt him. I guess when you're a 6-year-old who is about 25 pounds lighter than your big brother, you'll try to get him where it hurts...wherever that is.
Maybe she was aiming right for his self-esteem. But I think it fell short. Guess we'll wait until the next dodgeball game to find out.

He Will Return

I had never paid attention to this Bible passage and was just in awe when I received this e-mail. I quick grabbed a Bible to check it out. Wow!

Why Did Jesus Fold the Napkin?
Why did Jesus fold the linen burial cloth after His resurrection? The Gospel of John (20:7) tells us that the napkin, which was placed over the face of Jesus, was not just thrown aside like the grave clothes. The Bible takes an entire verse to tell us that the napkin was neatly folded, and was placed at the head of that stony coffin.

Early Sunday morning, while it was still dark, Mary Magdalene came to the tomb and found that the stone had been rolled away from the entrance.She ran and found Simon Peter and the other disciple, the one whom Jesus loved. She said, 'They have taken the Lord's body out of the tomb, and I don't know where they have put him!' Peter and the other disciple ran to the tomb to see. The other disciple outran Peter and got there first. He stooped and looked in and saw the linen cloth lying there, but he didn't go in. Then Simon Peter arrived and went inside. He also noticed the linen wrappings lying there, while the cloth that had covered Jesus' head was folded up and lying to the side.

Was that important? Absolutely! Is it really significant? Yes! In order to understand the significance of the folded napkin, you have to understand a little bit about Hebrew tradition of that day. The folded napkin had to do with the Master and Servant, and every Jewish boy knew this tradition.

When the servant set the dinner table for the master, he made sure that it was exactly the way the master wanted it. The table was furnished perfectly, and then the servant would wait, just out of sight, until the master had finished eating, and the servant would not dare touch that table, until the master was finished.

Now if the master were done eating, he would rise from the table, wipe his fingers, his mouth, and clean his beard, and would wad up that napkin and toss it onto the table. The servant would then know to clear the table. For in those days, the wadded napkin meant, 'I'm done'. But if the master got up from the table, and folded his napkin, and laid it beside his plate, the servant would not dare touch the table, because..........The folded napkin meant, 'I'm coming back!'
Yes, He is Coming Back!!
Are you ready?

Why, oh why?

Why must the kids sit and eat M&M's on a pile of clean laundry? Especially the 19-month-old LaRue.

Oh, those were the days....

Remember the limbo? Or "couple skate"? What about the game where everybody skated to a number on the wall and when your number was called, you had to skate to another number? Eventually, only one group of people was left.
I just took a trip, er, a skate, down memory lane recalling the days of Friday nights at the skating rink. I took Farmer Boy and the Princess to the roller rink. I mean, "Inline Skating Arena" tonight. It's been about 15 years since I used roller blades. And as I recall, the last time I used them I was wearing a cast. The cast was not a result of the roller blades, just an added accessory. I was pretty adept on the roller blades then, skating miles at a time.
Yeah, not so much tonight. The last time I used roller blades I was used to working out no less then 4 days a week, didn't have a child attached to each arm, did not have thighs compliments of one said child and did not eat leftover mac-n-cheese off of the other kid's plate for lunch and call it a meal.
Anyhow, I thought I would give it a try. I started out in roller blades, took one spin around the rink. Then I returned to the counter for the gramma skates (you know, the ones with 4 wheels and a brake). My daughter said her skates had four wheels too. Thanx honey, but yours are all in a line. Mine are positioned to balance the excess baby weight.
Wow, I was impressed with myself then.
"Look how fast you go, mom," the Princess said before the evening was over. "Yep," was my brief response, but I smiled inside. I do still have some athletic ability hidden inside me.
Wait till dad sees this, I thought to myself. He offered to take them skating tonight, even though he did not grow up with the luxury of Friday skate nights. Actually, he didn't grow up with the luxury of running water in their school in kindergarten. But that's another blog entry.
Anyhow, I think his offer was more to get out of giving the younger two kiddos a bath. Or maybe he just wanted to get out of the messy house (that was my reason). I mean, I was looking forward to spending time with the older two and showing off my now-hidden athletic ability.
I also didn't want dad to attempt skating and, as we say, 'break a hip.' He is a little older than me in case you haven't guessed.
So off we went. Two hours at the rink. The Princess skated backwards a few times and only fell twice. She also made it through three rounds of the Limbo. Farmer Boy did not fall at all and is feeling pretty confident for the upcoming hockey league.
Me, meanwhile, I'm just excited I didn't do the splits or fall on the little guy that ran into me. He laughed when I said it was a good thing I didn't fall on him.
Seriously buddy. Do you know many kids and mac-n-cheese meals it took to me make get this way? And how many Friday skate nights to erase this baby weight?
Now, off to find some Tylenol P.M.

"Hello, Nice to Meet You....."

"Hello. My name is...." "Bye. See you later."
I know someday, those greetings will flow naturally out of our children's mouths. But for now, we are left with much more creative responses.
Farmer Boy, age 7, stuck his tongue out at someone he didn't know when the gentleman spoke to him at a store. The man is someone I know, so let's just say that was pretty embarrassing. Farmer Boy was lucky he was in public. Otherwise, well....
Usually he and the Princess just smile. Or hide behind me.
Cookie Monster (just one month shy of age 3) has the best response lately:
"Hi turd!" This is generally shouted. Although yesterday at church, he did say softly to a friend: "Hi turd."
However, the volume shot straight up when we left the paint-your-own pottery place recently. Luckily, the clerk was a young teenage girl and didn't quite have a degree in baby-speak yet.
But Cookie Monster shouted (rather plainly I thought): "Bye turd!" I quickly grabbed his hand and escorted him to the car.
Someday, that fine greeting will come. Probably when I'm sobbing too much to understand as he pulls out of the driveway on his way to college....