Oh the Bliss!

I tell you what, after a FULL day of pulling stuff out of nooks and crannies and corners and shelves and boxes (that haven't been opened in three moves) I am feeling good! We can actually park one car in our (two car) garage, it's amazing! I tried to evaluate what I consider precious, and for what reason, and after it was all said and done, after HUGE amounts of stuff were set out on our curb for Salvation Army (or whomever so desires) one thing became very clear to me - I am a sucker for monograming. What in the world? I had no problem putting sweet little shoes and tiny little newborn socks into the bag, but, Lord help me, if it had an A for Addie anywhere on it I held onto it for dear life! Burp cloths. Who keeps burp clothes? They clean up our baby's snot and semi-digested puke. But slap TROY across the bottom in a cute font with a ribbon and there is NO WAY I can part with such a dear thing. A tattered cloth tote, worn at the seams with holes in the corners, obv

I dress them in swimsuits. Slather on the sunscreen. Pack snacks, towels and a changed of clothes. Head to fountains at the Spectrum and.... NOTHING. They want nothing to do with the water. BUT Go at 7pm when they should be well on their way to bed, to run into Target, where the fountain happens to be strategically placed in front of, with no swimsuits, no towel or change of clothes, not even a napkin to dry off with, and BAM they swarm the fountain like they're going on a ride at Disneyland! Every fiber of being told me it was going to end badly. I saw them eyeing it, I saw them tip-toeing over, I saw them look back at me for approval aaaaaand I could not resist! Before they got too carried away I informed them that it was gong to be an ugly ending. They were going to be cold and wet and miserable and they wouldn't be allowed to complain because I told them it was going to happen. (Like when they receive a balloon and I make them recite, "This balloon wil

"Oh give thanks to the Lord; call upon his name: make known his deeds among the peoples! Sing to him, sing praises to him; tell of all his wondrous works! Glory in his holy name; let the hearts of those who seek the Lord rejoice! Seek the Lord and his strength; seek his presence continually! Remember the wondrous works that he has done, his miracles, and the judgments he uttered..." I wish I had read this at the beginning of my day instead of right now... I wonder if my disgusting and horribly ugly attitude toward my children would've been any different had I been giving "thanks to the Lord and calling upon his name"? Multiple times today I was the one who was out of line. I was the one who was yelling and throwing a tantrum. I was not "telling of all his wondrous works" in the least bit. I did not seek the Lord and his strength, nor his presence continually. I sought my chocolate chips cookies and rejoiced in bedtime. And now I'm

I almost didn't go to church this weekend because I didn't feel pretty. There are so many things wrong with that statement I don't even know where to begin! Mark had to be there early so he was already gone, the kids were fed, dressed and ready to go, and there I was in the bathroom washing and plucking and brushing and powdering and painting my face all so that ... so that what? I could be more acceptable to God? So that I could apply the sermon more accurately or worship more beautifully? No. What it was, really, was me trying to make it look like I hadn't spent the day deep cleaning bedrooms and folding 6 loads of laundry. It was me thinking about what I wore the previous week to make sure I didn't wear it again. And there I was, making my family late, and contemplating not even going because I didn't feel pretty. I recognized the sin of vanity right away and marched myself to church, but I'm still so bothered that my solution to my "problem&quo

(For my memory...) Near the end of Toy Story 3 there's a scene where Woody, Buzz and all of Andy's toys are falling down a huge garbage pit into an incinerator. The kids were watching that movie today and I was off doing dishes when I hear Addison yelling at the computer screen, "PUT YOUR FAITH IN GOD! PUT YOUR FAITH IN JESUS! HURRY! PUT YOUR FAITH IN GOD!" I ran over wondering what on earth she was doing and she told me, "All the toys are going down to hell so I'm telling them to put their faith in God so they can be saved." People say that children don't "get it" when it comes to being a Christian. They say they are too young to fully understand the implications of being a follower of Christ. I might agree, to some extent. But I live with Addison Sarah Fitzpatrick, and I think Jesus had her pictured in his mind when he talked about childlike faith. He had to have been thinking about Addie when he told the disciples to back off an

Ben had a little academic assessment before starting Kindergarden and it was pointed out that he didn't stay inside the lines very well when coloring and I almost said "Thank you!" but then realized they saw this as not such a great thing. I guess years of me telling him that if he wanted to extend the landscape of his imagination beyond the bold black boundary lines in his coloring book he could because he was the artist and it was his masterpiece wasn't the quite the training they were looking for. (Side note: I have since learned to appreciate the lines in coloring books as good tools for teaching self control and following directions. There are blessings in obedience, even in coloring books!) Another reason why I'm thankful to have Ben home two days a week during the school year; we can be as creative and "boundary-less" as we want with our art. I've always wanted to be an artist, but have never dedicated any substantial time to tapping into t