Confession Time

I have a confession to make: I am scared to death of going to the dentist. Blame my father; I've inherited his horrible gag reflex and bad teeth. It's not all in my head; as a child I would often get sick while they were working on my teeth; as an eighth grader, they went to pull a tooth before the novocaine took effect, as an adult, they started drilling before I was numb...I really don't like the dentist.

I say this, because I made my husband schedule an appt for me since I can't bring myself to do it. I asked him to do the dirty deed this morning and when did he schedule my appt: tomorrow! Really, my heart is racing, my palms are sweaty and I'm already planning my defense when I get told I don't floss enough, brush well enough or come often enough. Aghhh...I really dislike the dentist.

The worst thing is, my poor little E seems to have gotten the genetic predisposition for bad teeth from my side of the family. Already my baby has what we think is enamel hypoplasia; where the enamel on his teeth is not properly formed. I'm sorry sweet boy...sorry that while you look just like your pop pop, you also got his teeth issues!

A little bit of this, a little bit of that...

It all began with three strangers...freshman at a large university, biomedical engineer majors, followers of Christ. Many years later, the friendships formed in and among the challenges of college have only been strengthened as the numbers in the families have increased. Today, the gang totals 15, nine children aged 10 and under; the relationships are so close that we begin to forget who went to college together and who married into the "gang."

Amongst the six of us, we have said goodbye to parents and grandparents dearly loved, clung to one another as the ten year old in the gang was diagnosed with leukemia at age 4, we've logged many miles flying and driving back and forth from east coast to midwest to be there for each other, we've cried on shoulders in the early morning hours, questioned faith, military, child rearing, diet, health; faced a parent with alcoholism, a mother with cancer, a father with cancer...there is something to be said for friends in Christ. Modern technology allows us to text and call at will; jobs and children keep up from being in contact as much as we like; but when Christmas vacation arrived and we all descended upon Door Co Wisconsin for a week of togetherness, the conversations kept us up way too late, the m&m's went way too fast, the games were hilarious and crazy, but most importantly, God was exalted in and among the friendships formed so many years ago.



Coming home after that drive to Wi, the kids and I continued a New Year's activity that I started two years ago:

Andrew, Jan 2010

Andrew, Jan 2011

And a list of 2010 favorites, with some side comments:

"Cocoa Puffs make delicious chocolate milk."

Years ago, I was a long term substitute in a second grade classroom. The teacher had three bins full of random bits and baubles that were seasonally coordinated. She called it the "Imagination Station." When indoor recess was required, the kids clamored to play with these dollar store treasures. Trying to entertain my three young ones has proven to be challenging at times and so, I decided to give this idea a whirl. Never did I imagine the response it would get...hours of playing together, sorting and collecting, sharing and swapping, creating and imagining, making the little brother belly laugh. My $6 spent at the Dollar Store was well worth it!

Sorting into small fabric bags

Collecting taxes from the poor to give to the rich, only to have them stolen by Ethan Hood!

And finally, the Marc quotes of the week: "I have pea-knots in my hair and acorns in my knees." Translation: knots in the hair and aches in the knee.

I can't Make this stuff up!

Today, after pulling apart a pompom, Andrew says to me:

I've taken the tuft from the Truffula tree...now when you have another baby and learn to knit, you can knit a sunbonnet for the baby, like Baby Carrie had. And then, we can have another one, that'll make seven, and I'll find another truffula tree and that baby can have an orange sunbonnet.

No, I'm not pregnant!

The little idiosyncracies that he pulls from the books that we read amazes me. We leap from couch to chair, pretending to be the panther chasing a horse (his sister) from Little House in the Big Woods. We collect taxes like the Sheriff of Nottingham and store tangerines in our backpack in search of an adventure just as the narrator of My Father's Dragon.

Life is never dull when you have a five year old who loves his books!

Look Who's Three!

Sweet Marcail, how fast you've grown! Wasn't it just yesterday we were holding a squalling baby girl in our arms?

Three years old...opinionated, sassy, prone to temper tantrums, loving, caring, full of life...you are a joy sweet daughter! Enthralled by all things pink and sparkly, you asked for pinkalicious cupcakes for your birthday and mommy was happy to comply.

Some days you are a mystery to me...lost in the world of My Little Ponies, playing quietly and contentedly with your dollhouse, giggling with delight when Ethan laughs at you, screaming when Andrew looks at you the wrong way, sorting and organizing your hair bands. Being a mommy to you takes on a different look than being a mommy to Andrew!

Happy Birthday sweet girl. You bring such joy to our lives and we are so blessed to call you our daughter!