The Best Sushi I Ever Ate!

No...it's not Whitney writing this one. All my guy friends keep nagging me to blog more, so here goes. Actually...I just couldn't resist being the one to share this story.

So you either love sushi, or you don't, or you fall into my 3rd category: you've never had sushi but tell everyone you don't like it because you don't think you will. Now if you love sushi, then the combination of this blog title and picture probably have you scared. I'm no connoisseur by any means, but even I know that sushi packaged like this CAN'T be the best you've ever eaten. That's what I thought too!

The volunteer at the desk at St. Vincent's waiting room told us Chase's surgery would last about 2 hours. I took a book. We had the IPod with us. Cell phones for texting. But neither of us could sit very still. It was mid morning, and we decided to do what comes naturally during anxious, worrisome, stressful times.....eat! We quickly cased out the cafeteria and were finally greeted at the pizza counter by Rochelle, who was serving up mini breakfast pizzas. She and Whitney exchanged warm smiles and friendly conversation about our son in surgery and our need for "comfort food". I had previously noticed that the sushi chef was fixing up sushi rolls like those seen in the picture above and, being a skeptic, I decided to get an opinion straight from the staff. Rochelle said the sushi was pretty good and made fresh every morning. Without giving it a second thought, she asked if I wanted to try some. Now you're talking! I'm thinking a free sample or maybe a complimentary cafeteria voucher, and I jump on the opportunity. Rochelle walked us over to the counter and asked me to pick one out. I did. Then she asked me to pick another one. Hey, why not, it's on the hospital, right!?! She takes both containers over to the checkout, and before I can process what's happening, she whips out her employee ID and payroll deducts $15 worth of sushi to 2 complete strangers from the surgery waiting room. Whitney and I immediately tried to fix this little "dilemma" by offering her cash. She wouldn't have it, and just laughed and scolded us for trying to steal her joy. We made our way over to a table to eat and Rochelle left us for her breakfast pizza station.

As for the sushi, it didn't taste as good as I hoped or as bad as I figured. But we couldn't stop eating it. A couple of times I had to take a big drink just to keep my composure. Whitney and I couldn't stop talking about what happened. We wanted to repay her somehow, but knew that our role was to receive this random act of kindness. Before we left the cafeteria, we went back to Rochelle's counter for one last thank you, and to let her know we were committed to paying it forward.

I don't know what was at the core of Rochelle's random act of kindness that day. Our relationship didn't last long enough to find out. She could never afford to treat every customer that way. So why us? Why me? It didn't calculate, and it was hard to receive. I'm not used to this sort of thing, and it made me remember the humility required to receive the gift of grace from God. The stakes were higher with salvation, but the humility was the same. I like to think Jesus made her do it. That she couldn't stand to let the opportunity pass her by to show the love of Christ to someone, even a complete stranger. That's what Jesus does, you know! We simply walk up to Him and He extends his love to us whether we deserve it or not, whether we ask for it or not, whether we want Him to or not. Thanks, Rochelle, for reminding me what Christmas is all about.

I've had lots of tasty sushi in my life, but this was by far the best sushi I've ever eaten. We celebrate the birth of the Saviour of the world tomorrow. Show someone today why he came!

Christmas tree farm tradition, take ten...

Bob Evans, and then to the Christmas tree farm. A ten year tradition, for better or for worse, in sickness and in health...

This year, I only had to cut up one kid's breakfast, and the boys hauled the tree back to the tractor all by themselves.

Merry Christmas to me. :)

Card duty...

The boys' school took a great approach to a fund-raising effort to benefit our local Lion's Club (whose members give their time and resources generously to the school!). Instead of a class gift exchange, the teachers encouraged each student to ask their parents how they might earn a small amount of money to donate to the organization's building repair fund.

Because my mom-scheming skills are getting sharper by the year - ha! - Jack and Trey earned their money by helping fold, stuff, stamp and sticker our Christmas cards. Turns out little Daugherty boys grow up to be slightly OCD, just like both of their parents. :) Two boys who initially gave me a "seriously, Mom?" look ended up having a ball working together and chatting the night away. I love nights like these. And so do they.

If they try to tell you otherwise, don't you dare listen to them. :)

Juggling...

This is Chase's depiction of me juggling life as a mom. No one tells him to draw stuff like this; his little five year old mind is just as honest as it gets. Apparently we moms must multi-task or something, and we also have go-go-Gadget arms that help us do a hundred things at once. He knows me well to include a phone, my cup of chai, an apple, a bowl of cereal, homework, my Bible, and a handful of kids. He just forgot to draw the three year old hanging on my leg. And thank goodness he threw a couple of hearts in, or else I would really start to get worried.

Tess spilled her milk the other day, and Chase said, "Geesh, kids sure do make a lot of stress," just like he wasn't a kid, and just like he'd never in his life caused his parents any grief. Funny kid.

December means lots of extra juggling as a mom. Throw in four kids on constant sugar highs, a surgery and an excited nine year old's birthday and you're almost done for. But I sure don't want the only thing my kids to remember about the holidays growing up is a stressed out mom who over-committed to lots of good things, but forgot to focus on what was best. I don't want to be known for hangups like hanging the ornaments by myself so they'll be perfectly spaced, or shooing eager children out of the kitchen so they don't mess up my perfectly decorated sugar cookies (which get eaten in like ten seconds anyway).

There will be plenty of years when my children are gone to choose all white lights to elegantly decorate my entire house. But for now, they want some fun color mixed in. Who can blame them, really? And for crying out loud, the world will not come to an end if they insist on rearranging the Nativity a hundred times a day, confiscating baby Jesus to ride in the Batmobile or keep them company while they sit on the potty.

It's sort of a compliment if you think about it, and Jesus is everywhere anyway, right?

I'm pretty sure my kids don't care if I can tie a cool bow on a package, or if their teacher's gift was the coolest in the class. But they sure do love it when I sit down beside them and we enjoy our cups of hot chocolate together (they MUST include a heaping pile of whip cream, sprinkles, and a candy cane hung on the cup's rim) at random moments in the day (when I often tell myself I should be doing something productive... hmm).

I want them to experience more than a juggling mom this Christmas. I want them to see Jesus in me as I humbly serve. I want them to hear Jesus, as we tell the story of His birth, and as we worship Him for coming to save a broken world. I want them to feel Jesus' love as we say no to just enough stuff so that we can surround them with ours.

And Mary said:

"My soul proclaims the greatness of the Lord; my spirit rejoices in God my savior." Luke 1:47

Adventures in Urology...

I know it's titles like these that keep you coming back for more. Ha. And you know it's an extra creative night when I combine Fall pictures with fascinating urology talk. Hey, I like to keep you on your toes (or, it's just been a really long day). Since I'm not known for blog consistency lately, at least I can get some points for efficiency, right?

Yeah, that's it.

Hey, just be glad that I'm sharing old Fall pics instead of urology ones. :)

So we're a pretty popular family in the Pediatric Urology Department at St. Vincent Hospital in Indianapolis. You might remember that Jack and Tess were born with a genetic condition called urinary reflux. We spent several years following up with Jack's bladder and kidney health, until he finally had surgery to correct his reflux in 2005. With each baby, we thought we might encounter the reflux again (all of our kids statistically have a 1 in 3 chance), and we went through much testing during pregnancy and in the newborn stage to rule out any signs of the condition. Tess's reflux was a little more difficult to determine, was much less severe, and lasted a much shorter amount of time compared to Jack's. She successfully grew out of it in time (as many patients do), and we were released about a year ago from any further treatment for her, as long as symptoms stay at bay. Compared to so many other more serious health-related issues, we are so very thankful to have dealt with something completely fixable! Through years of treatment, we have actually enjoyed getting to know the amazing Dr. Rink and his staff. So many visits and phone calls later, his receptionist even refers to herself as "Aunt Trina" to our kids. We visit an office when upon entering we are humbled beyond words: where many children are there to treat urological issues that have resulted from things like spina bifida, brain injuries and the like. I don't think there has been an appointment that I have walked out of when I haven't been brought to tears. It's a powerful thing seeing such bravery displayed by such little ones. The office staff used to joke with us that they'd miss us until the next kid came along, and then surely we'd see them again for something. Funny joke, until it came true almost every time. :)

And just like clockwork, this Friday we'll go back for Chase, who will have surgery to repair an ascended testicle (uh, you can go back to looking at pictures now if you want). No kidding.

If I didn't feel so sorry for the guy, it would almost be funny. Seriously, what are the chances? He's five and a thinker. Just old enough to be scared because he knows what surgery is, and not quite old enough to know that he'll want to thank Dr. Rink someday for the opportunity to have everything in it's proper place and working like it should. So we're not telling him. Not yet anyway. He would think and worry and ask all the revealing questions all week long. He knows he has an appointment, and we'll share the rest of the news with him right after he drinks his loopy meds in surgery prep. Yes, that sounds like the perfect time to tell him. Thank goodness for loopy meds. And for that silly Theodore the Chipmunk stuffed animal that he's dying to have from the grocery store (that I'm going to pull out of my purse to distract him at just the right time when he figures the whole gig out). P.S. These hard working boys don't get paid an allowance on a regular basis (because don't you know, we're all family here), but for this pile of leaves? One dollar.

And a happy heart.

Another year....

It's day four, folks (although yesterday's picture was kind of a cheat...), and pretty soon 1. Tyler is going to wonder why he doesn't have any clean underwear in his closet, and 2. you're going to get really tired of me. :) But I'm so close to proving myself wrong that I can't give up just yet!

You know it's a good story when I post pictures of myself. Heh. This is me with my best "Um, what's going on here?" look, walking in from the three hour trip home from Cincinnati on Sunday night (just me with the kids, where we endured only one potty stop in a gross gas station bathroom, one fit from the three year old, and one Starbucks stop for a Pumpkin Spice Latte for my reward for surviving the trip solo...). Clearly I grabbed all of the essentials out of the van so I could get the kids to bed immediately - pillows, the Elmo potty seat, and Tess's favorite sleeping buddy (Lord, please don't ever let anything happen to that crazy monkey). It was 8:30pm, and with school the next day, I had directed the boys to head upstairs and get their jammies on ASAP.

But instead of catching Daddy watching Sunday night football like we expected, we walked into a party! My birthday was a couple of days away, and Tyler had been scheming all weekend so he could surprise me when we returned. I thought he was being a little obscure when I asked him what he had been doing with the house all to himself for a couple of days. :)

We waded through a sea of pink streamers and lit candles in the kitchen (and a super clean house, by the way, which gets major points), and made it to the table full of presents (doesn't his wrapping paper pick crack you up?!), cake and ice cream. At first I was a little hesitant - all smart daddies should know that you don't ever mess with a tired momma's planned bedtime routine.

Unless you're throwing her a party, that is. I am totally laughing here because every kid is whining about wanting to be the one to blow out the candle. When you're a mom, that is sort of how birthdays go. Thank goodness for Tyler's sweet effort, because my actual birthday was full of exhaustion and kid drama. For every birthday phone call I got, there were four needy little people lined up one behind the other, waiting to ask me the most important question of their life. I finally just stopped answering the phone because that just meant that everyone might need something all over again. And even though moms try to act like they don't need someone to make a big fuss over them (and busy themselves with doing the fussing over everyone else), it sure is nice to feel appreciated every once in a while. If you look closely, you can see tears running down my face in this picture. Duh. I seriously must be getting old if cried over a dumb pair of tennis shoes. But when I opened them, plus other boxes filled with brand new workout clothes, I didn't see just the neatly wrapped gifts.

I saw a husband who has listened to my words, and who cares about what I care about.

I heard him supporting my efforts to work hard so I can stay fit and feel young.

I felt him encouraging me to take the time to work out, even when I battle the guilt of feeling like I should be doing something else that would seem to benefit my family more as a whole.

I saw shoes and clothes that I would never buy for myself, and felt so loved that he would take the time to figure out just what I would need.

Another year incredibly blessed by such loyal and sacrificial love... noticed in the perfect pair of Nike tennis shoes.

Who knew.

Fall Beauty...

That's right...

I will NOT be called a shallow goal-maker. Even if I just called myself one. I'm sort of getting competitive in my older age, you know (which incidentally gets way older-sounding tomorrow - ugh). So game on this week, ya'll.

Ok, I first have to prove (does this go along with my developing competitive side??) that we are definitely on a shirtless-Jack-O'-Lantern-pose-trend that dates back at least three years. The pic above is from 2009. Oh Chaser, what did those big brothers of yours talk you in to?

I know what you're thinking. Yes, our Jack O' Lantern was super lame even back then. But if you don't clue them in that there are way cooler carving methods, then they'll never know the difference. It's sort of like the fact that there are other options than having your mom cut your hair. Let's just keep that bit of information to ourselves for now too, okay?

And here is the shirtless trio again this year, just in case you forgot what they looked like...

...from yesterday. Since I'm two for two, you know (hey, I'm just as surprised as anyone). I know you all have moved on to Thanksgiving and probably even Christmas by now, but since this is my online scrapbook of sorts, you'll bear with my late Halloween revisit, won't you? P.S. Bjorn joins us again, and he's just plain awesome.

That well-used (sometimes stinky from sweaty boys!) little dress-up bin sure does come in handy every year when I challenge the boys to go create a Halloween costume from what we already have in the closet (P.S. I love NOT spending money!). I'll admit that I drug my feet a bit on Jack's all black mystery guy, but Tyler and I decided that we're not going to get hung up on a color. He wanted to be hidden, we don't worship Satan, and he wasn't trying to make a statement. Truth is, ten year olds don't want to dress up like five year olds. So we let him be ten. Which brought on a huge discussion at the dinner table about why we Trick-or-Treat (uh, candy, hello...), and why some people we know don't celebrate Halloween. Of course everyone has the freedom to celebrate (or not celebrate) a holiday as they choose. But, boys, do we think that dressing up in costumes and going door to door for candy compromises our beliefs? Not in the least. Even if my kid wears all black? Um, still no. Thanks for asking. :) Ok, moving on... The best part of the night? Going around our subdivision and running into tons and tons of neighbors, both great friends and acquaintances alike. What a fun, socially-packed evening! When was the last time you snuggled with a skeleton and looked this happy? :) We got back to the house in time to hand out some candy ourselves, and luckily we were just in time to welcome a visit from this adorable group of girls from Trey's class. Trey opened the door and was greeted with all sorts of giggles and girls calling his name - hilarious! We all enjoyed watching Trey's face turn a bright shade of red as he tried to sneak away back into the house. The girls and I finally convinced him to pose for a picture, which didn't actually take too much convincing. After they were gone, Daddy asked if he had a favorite, and he did shyly whisper a name (wait, maybe two). Ah, third grade love, when you don't have to choose just one. :)

And on that note, I'm adding another aerobics day this week to work off all of the candy I snuck out of the kids' pumpkins over the last seven days.

Duh.

Well, hello there...

Do you think I can blog every day this week to catch up on the last month of our lives? Yeah, I doubt it either, but I'm going to make it a very shallow goal. Shallow being the key word. Don't hold me to it, okay? Oh, you crazy blog readers are so patient with me.

Gosh, I'm so lazy lately. Well, not lazy. At least raking a whole lot of leaves and refinancing your home doesn't feel lazy, but then again, that doesn't sound like a whole lot either, does it? There has to be something else going on in my life.

Hmm... the kids and I did just get back from a great couple of days in Cincinnati. Cory and Steph loaned me two of their boys while they were out of town, and though it was a full weekend with the one adult to six kids ratio (Tyler's weekend to work), it was so very rewarding. Ah, so much love between cousins, that I got teary-eyed a couple of times even. Wish we lived closer...

I just downloaded weeks worth of pictures, so hopefully I can get my act together and post some on here soon. Uh, like tomorrow if I keep my goal. Which isn't likely, if I'm being realistic, but you never know how crazy I'll get during nap time in between loads of laundry. Heh.

Until that happens, I have to comment on tonight's picture. I love it for so many reasons:

1. Tyler's in it, which feels like success, since he denies me sometimes. :)

2. The Daugherty boys once again pose with their Jack O' Lanterns shirtless in like forty degree weather. This is becoming quite the tradition, and we don't even have to plan it.

3. Our Jack O' Lanterns are so lame. Especially after seeing all of your crazy creative, intricate, pattern-followed designs on facebook. Seriously lame, but we were so proud of them that we could hardly stand it.

4. Chase totally cracks me up. That's his AWANA verse he's holding up, and this just gives you a glimpse of how focused he is to memorize his verse each week. I write the verse out, and he literally carries that paper around the house all week reciting it to himself. So proud of that boy.

5. Tess stands out so much surrounded by all boys in her hot pink outfit (thank goodness she DOES have a shirt on!), and is never without a baby in her arms. I look at this picture and see how far she's come in the last few months: much less aggressive and much more nurturing. Thank you, God.

The appraiser comes in the morning to finish up the last bit of the refinancing gig. Uh, are you supposed to clean your house for that?

Oops...

Signs of Fall at the Daugherty house...

AWANA is in full swing! This amazing program at church combines cool stuff like dress up nights (so far we've had pirate night and cowboy night!) and crazy games that get your kids super sweaty WITH scripture memory. What a great combo, huh?! It's a big commitment, but so far we've said the kids can play a sport if it doesn't land on a Wednesday night, and it's not felt like a sacrifice one bit. Each week consists of organizing four different books, memorizing four different sets of verses, four club shirts/vests, four Bibles, four bags, and four very excited children. We are so blessed to be a part of a church that commits to teaching God's Word in such a fabulous way! Fall means cookouts with good friends (and our husbands and thirteen kids!)! Words cannot describe what these girls mean to me. God has brought us through much joy and much heartache together, all while adding lots of kids along the way! So, so thankful that the Creator of all good things knew that we would need each other. Near or far, what an encouragement these girls are to my life and walk with God. This Fall was our first attempt at flag football. I have a feeling Trey will have us making the rounds with every sport before all is said and done! In an effort to not over-commit (uh, the ongoing story-of-our-lives effort!), we passed on Fall baseball this year and gave football a go. Practice and games all happened on just one night a week, which got big points in my book. It was a fun new adventure (besides the playing in the rain part!), but Trey ended the season saying that he thought baseball was more his passion. Suits me, since next year his only option is full-blown tackle. I like this narrowing-down thing... And... some boys are getting serious about Halloween around here! Potential costumes have been discussed for the past two weeks at least, and Chase and Trey combined efforts and entered the pumpkin decorating contest at school. Our friendly pirate now sits on display in the school hallway, with the boys anxiously awaiting the vote! I've been able to hang out with Chase's class at school twice in the past couple of weeks: once to help with the Kindergarten Apple Day, and next for their trip to the pumpkin patch. You learn a lot on days like these; things like: how a five year old all of the sudden gets clingy with his Momma around, how his little mind is soaking up so many new things with such excitement, and how this sweet bright blue-eyed girl in his class may or may not be his girlfriend...

"I'm not sayin' she is, Mom. Just maybe..."

School conferences are this week, and Jack and Trey have already had their reward "dates" for achieving their first quarter reading goals. Can't believe one-fourth of the school year is complete!

A decade.

Autumn bliss today. While all four boys headed to campus for the Purdue game, Tess and I took off for our very first girl outing - a baby shower for a dear friend. While she has some social etiquette -ahem - yet to learn, today gave me a great glimpse into some future fun with my only girl. Success overall. I think she handed half-eaten and well-licked favors to only about half a dozen strangers. And, only one food item went back onto the platter with a bite taken out of it. All things considered, that's a good showing for the three year old, folks.

Oh, and the guest of honor's mother wasn't offended one bit when Tess walked up to her, ran her chubby fingers through her perfectly salon-set hair and proclaimed loudly, "Your hair is kinda crazy, Grandma!" Thinking back to how this could have played out six months ago... not bad, girlie, not bad.

All of that snacking and uplifting conversation wore her out, so she sleeps. The boys are still gone and house is currently the quietest it's been in weeks, so I decided to use the time to take some pics off of my camera. Great September memories, especially of our new ten year old boy!

He was ten at the end of August, but because his heart was set on certain guests in attendance for his party, we had to wait until Labor Day to get everyone here.

A Pokemon party for Jack! My boys full well know my aversion to spending money on things like rocks (really?!) and Pokemon cards, but I finally came around to the fact that there are worse things in life.

Why the heart change, you ask?

I suddenly remembered Garbage Pail Kids.

For crying out loud, how we ever got away with collecting those politically incorrect things (and then trading them in the back church pew - while chomping our gum - in the middle of the sermon) is beyond me. Go ahead boys, loose three teeth, then take your bucks to buy a Pokemon pack, I say. Seems like a lot of hard work for a bunch of cardboard nonsense if you ask me, but I'd much rather have Tess going around the house repeating phrases like,

"I trade you a hundred damage, Chaser," all proud acting like she knows her stuff, instead of overhearing one liners like, "Hey, why that baby have a bomb exploding out of his head?"

Seriously. Mom? Anyone?

Oh dear, where were we?

Oh yes, the Pokemon party was planned and ready to go, with lots of games plotted out ahead of time to make sure no one was bored. Pokemon Bingo, Pin the Tail on Pikachu, Design Your Own Pokeball, plus detailed instructions on how to draw your favorite Pokemon character step by step.

Turns out, ten year olds do a fine job entertaining themselves (ahh... I knew I liked this age!). I've never hosted a quieter, simpler party. And we never played even one of the games I had planned. Eight boys escaped upstairs with their Pokemon cards in hand, and I never heard a peep out of them for the next two hours. Sweet.

At one point I got worried that Tess might be up crashing the boys' fun, so I went upstairs to check on her. This is where I found her. Reason #147 why Bjorn fits in so well around here.

He arranged (completely symmetrical to no surprise) and lit his own candles, and at that moment I realized just how much he is growing up. This boy who was once such a handful has become one of the greatest joys of my life. Ask me about that story sometime, and I'd be happy to tell you how very good God is. With God, there is much hope in parenting, and in life.

Ah, the quiet is officially over... the boys all just piled back into the house, sweaty and happy after the Purdue win and a stop afterwards at B-Dubs. Nothing like a little football and a few father/son hot wing challenges to make your Saturday complete.

They've been home for fifteen minutes and Tyler is already asleep on the couch. How men do that surrounded by such chaos I'll never know.

More to catch up on soon!

My time...

After a long, exhausting day, I always say there's nothing better than a chubby paw wrapped around your neck.

Or wait. Maybe sometimes I say, "Man, I wish I had just five minutes when someone wasn't hanging on me or calling my name in a chorus over and over and over..."

Yeah, that's more like it.

Tess cried out a few minutes after I had tucked her in for the night. We are serious about bedtime around here, and usually I have no problem responding with all business. After all, it was the first time the house had been quiet since six o'clock this morning. But tonight was different for some reason. Her tiny voice called my name, and before I knew it, I was laying in bed beside her.

My heart wasn't in that compassionate place at first. There were dishes to clear from the kitchen sink, and surely a load or two of laundry to fold. And a ten year old boy would need tucked in soon, after his bonus reading minutes had expired. I had computer work to do, and a list forming in my mind of the rest of the week's events. This was supposed to be my time; the first efficient time in my day.

She snuggled up so close that I could feel her nose-breath hitting my face, and it almost made me giggle. Just when I thought she was asleep, she kissed me on my lips, and I could feel the shape of hers smile. Her right hand was smack in the middle of my left cheek, pressing down like a paperweight, ensuring that I wasn't going to sneak out unnoticed anytime soon.

And then I snuggled in too. This time wrapping my arms around her, instead of hoping for a quick escape. I told her that I loved her very much, and she said thank you very much.

And I realized that sixteen will be here before I know it.

Back.

Let's see if I can remember how to do this. I just logged into blogspot and typed in the wrong password if that tells you anything. Heh.

Three school boys. Good start. No, great start. Turns out Chase isn't weepy in school like he can be at home sometimes. Guess it's easier to find your place in a sea of five year olds who may or may not overpower or get more attention than you. He did cry once the first week after I asked him if he was doing a good job following all of the rules. He quickly burst into a full-blown sob and said, "There's one rule that I just can't remember to follow, Mom." I nervously inquired which rule that was. After crying for what seemed like forever, he finally took a breath long enough to admit, "I'm a horrible kid. I just can't remember to push my chair in every time."

That, I can handle, Chaser.

That kid is starting to read, and you can see the elation in his eyes. I can't get enough of it, and he can't get enough of my reaction. He read a short poem to me the other day, and when I limited my praise to just a (huge) smile and a quick, "Wow, great job, Bud!", he responded with, "Aren't you going to jump up and down and clap and scream really loud for like thirty-five seconds or something??"

Uh... let me wash the raw chicken goo off of my hands, then of course I will.

And here's another neat trick: These two miss each other while Chase is at school. How that is possible in the quickest three hours of our lives I'll never know, but it's true. Enough to embrace when we pick Chase up from school, and play their little hearts out from the minute we get home until nap time. No TV needed (not even once in the last three weeks), rarely a fight, and lots of "Come on, this way Girl..." to direct their play.

As for my three hours alone with just Tess everyday? We are so NOT efficient. We light candles, drink hot chai (with lots of whip cream on hers), chat with neighbors who are out walking their dogs, dance to music in the kitchen, and fold lots and lots of laundry together.

And occasionally eat pickles.

She's killer at folding washcloths, even if the tags aren't tucked in and they're not all stacked facing the same direction. And now, all these years (and four kids, which have to be a lot like therapy) later, I don't even fix them before putting them away. That's progress, people.

Oh, and we started attending an aerobics class. I won't go on and on like we're pros or anything since we're totally the new chicks on the block, but hey, it's something. You're talking to the girl who doesn't exercise. Ever. And my sad, sore muscles are proof. Tess comes along to play in the gym during the hour long (free taught by my friend at her church) class, which will totally take the place of any gymnastics or dance class I had considered putting her in before now. She jumps and dances and copies the moves (hopefully the instructor's and not my sorry version), and giggles at me when I look silly.

Which is practically the whole sixty minutes.

My facebook status this week pretty much sums it up: "Here I thought my lack of stylish workout clothes would be what made me stand out at aerobics this morning. It all worked out... everyone surely was so distracted by my lack of coordination that they never even noticed my outfit. Sweet." :)

As for the older boys, they've got the school routine down. Except for Trey, maybe, who occasionally forgets to listen to instructions fully and has to start over because he's too excited to get his work done as fast as humanly-eight-year-old-boy-possible.

Not because he loves doing homework, necessarily. It's all just a means to an end for his incredibly packed social agenda. Sadly (or not so sadly??), I can relate, buddy. Reading comprehension... who has time for it when there are people to see and things to do? But don't challenge him to a face-off in mental math, 'cause he'll beat you every time.

And Jack? Once upon a time, the Lord knew that I'd have four kids and the four o'clock hour would be completely nut-so in our house, so He gave me a boy who just gets it done. No instruction or motivation needed, no jumping up and down in a cheering frenzy required, just a signature at the bottom of his assignment book saying he's completed every last bit. Now you can go read happily for hours on end, my friend.

School happened. And so did Fall. A new nephew, a wedding, AWANA, flag football, a moms/school prayer group, ladies' bible study, a new ten year old, school fundraiser, multiple out-of-town grandparent visits, random ministries, plus a whole lot more.

Life is full.

But it's that good kind of full.

(Unless it's flag football in the rain. We baseball people aren't used to playing sports in the rain, you know...)