Festivities

We have had all kinds of concerts this year. Leslie had a choir concert, and I attended a marathon sing-around today. But, the photo being posted to represent all of this is Camille's band concert. The performance was actually a bit of a crack-up. The 6th grade band this year consisted of 1 trumpet, 2 saxophones, 1 clarinet, and 5 drummers. All the drummers played all the time. The bass drummer with particular zeal. And he was standing right behind Camille. All the songs sounded like drums. My favorite then, was "Up on the Housetop" because after the kids all sang "Ho, Ho, Ho," Camille's trumpet would sound loud and clear (no drums on this part) "Who wouldn't go?" right on key, right on time. Good job sis! I'm sure you did great on the rest too. Leslie was fun to watch sing. She enjoys it so much, and she sings from her heart. Caleb, Camille, Miriam and Ethan all sang with their classes today. I enjoyed it all, and Seth was a pretty good sport for staying the whole morning in the lunch room. :)

The next photo is from a few days ago. We had a big snowfall, but it was warm enough for the kids to walk home from school. Jacob came running to say, "Mom, come and see Ethan's new pet!" I was worried. Never know what little boys will make into pets, but this is what it was:

The snowball is about twice the size of his head, and Jake had watched him carry it up the road, slowly eating it. Ewww.

This is where the snowball had to live, if it was going to live in the house. The next morning, I found the bowl of water in the TV room. Snowball pets are easy to dispose of when they die. Even easier than goldfish. :)

Blog Block

Not what you think it is. Not that I can't think of something to say, but one of those times when you have a lump in your throat and you can't. I haven't posted about my father-in-law's heart attack yet, but I need to record a few things so I can move forward.

Shortly after Thanksgiving, my father-in-law had a massive heart attack. The surgeon was able to relieve the blockage in his heart, but Dad had been without oxygen for an undetermined amount of time. He is basically in a coma right now, having sustained damage to some parts of his brain.

His family feels it keenly. There has been much prayer and soul searching, and a kind of endurance mourning. He is not dead, but he is so far from us, that it is painful. A state of limbo where sadness mixes with hope and submission. I wish I were more help. We all do.

I find it hard to carry on with every day life so far. We have socially accepted customs where we mourn if someone dies, but what if you just lose someone's activity and interaction and everything else, except their body? We go back and forth between hope and despair. I watch my sweet mother-in-law, as she sits by his side everyday. Time ticks forward. Christmas is coming. Still the changes we pray for are not yet manifest. His children go to work each day and stop in when they can. The grandchildren pray for him and draw pictures for his room. It is a time to stretch our souls.

I am so grateful for this family that I have married into. I am also grateful for kind words and prayers from extended family and friends. We feel loved as you express sorrow for us, and let us know of your concern and prayers. We love you too. Thank you.

The Elusive Hobo

You may recall that Caleb was a hobo for Halloween this year. When he told me what he wanted to be, my first thought was, "Yay! that will be easy." and my next thought was, "How did he come up with that?" I still don't know. What I do know is he is pretty interested in hobos. He asked me what a hobo was about two weeks ago, and where he could find one. I tried to explain that hobo is an old word, that we don't use much anymore. People who were once considered hobos, would now be called things like: Homeless, Migrant Workers, Alcoholics, Mentally Ill or Vagrant, therefore, we are more politcally correct, or at least more descriptive in our use of language to name what we used to call hobos. My kids don't buy it. They obviously have a mental picture of what a hobo is, and they are on the lookout for a few. Today, we passed the school crossing guard, a gentleman of advanced years, with a portly tummy wearing a hoodie. Pouring forth from the hood was a gray beard that santa would be proud of. My kids promptly pronounced him a hobo and dissolved into giggles. Caleb announced that he had a friend who had seen a real hobo, and he had asked her mom for money. He is not so sure of Santa, but he seems determined that hobos do exist, and he is going to hunt until he is satisfied.

The kids got out of the suburban at the school and blew me kisses. Then Caleb stretched his arms wide, flexed his hands forward and yelled, "Air hug!" Miriam quickly turned around and sent me one too. I love you, fun, zany children!!!

Thanksgiving

Today I am posting a poem written by Camille for school this week. She said the assignment was to write a Thanksgiving story, but as she started, it began to rhyme. :) I love that it is accidentally a poem. :) It is illustrated by this good looking turkey, colored and cut out by Ethan in kindergarten.
Happy Thanksgiving from me too. It is one of my favorite holidays.

Thanksgiving

It was almost Thanksgiving,

and sweet thoughts were near,

to have fun with your loved ones

and friends who are dear.

I think that Thanksgiving

is a time to give thanks,

Not a time to be rude or do

rude little pranks,

A time to show loved ones

that always you care.

Not a time to fuss about

clothing or hair.

A time to tell stories

to listen, to learn.

A time to forget

a time not to yearn.

A time to be merry,

be thankful, be giving.

A time to be glad that

we all are living.

A time to be glad

that we live on this Earth,

And multiply more

with each child's birth.

A time to remember

the good times we've had,

And forget all your worries

and times that were bad.

Now friends, I say this to you

with a great deal of care,

Do not think about shopping

or clothing or hair.

Have a jolly Thanksgiving

be happy, be merry.

Have fun with your friends

Bob, Shane, Dick, or Larry.

And even if your friends

don't own just these names

have fun and leave thanks

that always remains.

Miriam is looking forward to singing "All I want for Christmas is my Two Front Teeth", but she really needs three! The tooth fairy just wants a break. :)

Honking

My kids love to drive to Idaho, because they know that on the wide open interstate up north, if they are lucky, they can get the semi-drivers to honk for them. When ever we go to pass a semi, Seth will shout, "Get your honkers up!" This is the signal for everyone to put their arm in the air and pump it up and down in front of the windows to see if they will be lucky this time. They hate it when the drivers aren't paying attention, or if they are talking on a cell phone. They scream and wave ecstatically for any driver who graces us with a big HONK!!!!

Most of my kids understand that here in the city, the truckers don't use thier horns unless they need to. Seth does not. Today we were driving to the elementary school to drop Ethan off for kindergarten. We drove up behind a big Walmart truck, and Seth yelled for the honkers. Ethan tried to explain about the futility of the effort by saying, "Seth we don't honk here. This is America, and in America, we don't honk!" :) I thought all of you still using your horns out there should know.

What you don't know....

I hide things. All the time. I never dreamed being a mom was such a sneaky business. But it is. It could be that it is just me, I used to hide things as a teenager too, but then, it was for the same reason: I was the oldest, and there were children around.

I hide chocolate. I hide cookies. I hide granola bars, juice boxes and any thing else likely to be wanted for a specific purpose at a later date. It has become very hard to hide food from Jacob. My instinct is to put things up. But he is taller than I am, driven by insatiable hunger, and practiced. He has been finding what I hide for 15 years now.

I hide shock and surprise, disappointment and pain as needed.

I hide very little from Leslie, because she is an observant child, and it is almost impossible to accomplish.

I hide nothing from Nathan because it is unnecessary. He doesn't look for things. He thinks I hide things, but this is confusion, he just doesn't know where it goes.

I hide the TV cable when I think we have had enough for a while.

I hide Christmas and birthday gifts, and sometimes the wrapping paper for the gifts, so it will still exist when it is time to wrap presents. Small boys are drawn to wrapping paper rolls, they like to unroll and destroy the paper, and the gravy is playing swords with the cardboard tube.

I hide vegetables in my baking.

I hide things in my closet and my drawers. If you are one of my children, caught in my closet, you are dead meat, pounded with a mallet.

I hide the clothes kids have grown out of, but will be mad that they need to go to a new home. I take them out of the wash each time I fold clothes. I hide this from the children too. They do not know there is a pile named Confiscate.

I hide matches. I have four boys descended from a long line of pyromania.

Sometimes, I hide myself, in my room with the door locked, for a few minutes of quiet.

There are troubles with hiding things. One, is that around Christmas time, I can't find the clothes in my closet. Two, is the older I get, the more forgetful, and the more I have to hide surprise when I find something I forgot I had hidden. Three, is I am tired of this. At some point, I may give up on the mysteries. I may just buy you a gift, and hand it to you, what ever day I get it, and instruct you to remember what it is for and when. I may just open up and tell you when you've blown it, whatever the ramifications. I may learn to live in the moment so much, that I will never plan for a future meal or treat again, and just let them eat all 8 boxes of pop tarts, the minute I walk in from the grocery store. But I haven't done it yet.

My children are affected by this. If you find they grow up to be spies and detectives, you will know where the blame lies. They should be pretty good at it though. Wheedling into mom's secrets for years should be good practice.

One More Photo

This one wouldn't fit on the other post, but too cute to leave out!!! Ethan did all the carving by himself. He was pretty proud. :)