you want lame stories... all right

Today, i dropped a piece of chocolate cake on the floor as i was in a hurry to get out the door. But i was also trying to fill out one of those email, get-to-know you, time wasting questionnaires at the same time. (yes, i sometimes fill those out, and even when i am in a hurry to go somewhere... i have issues.) I looked down and saw that the dog and baby were equidistant from the cake. And i thought, "well i am certainly not going to pick up all those crumbs, that would require a broom and bending down, and i have heels on...do i let the dog lick them up even though it is poison, or do i let the baby eat the crumbs?"

the dog isn't dead yet. and the baby is still safe, so far, from the family addiction to sugar.

****

Frank asked me yesterday, "mama, which one is my sweet tooth?"

****

Frank and I are memorizing some Bible verses. Yesterday's was: "Children, obey your parents in all things, for this is well pleasing to the Lord." Colossians 3:20

frank asked, "mama, why are you in charge of me?"

"because God put me in charge of you."

"why did God put you in charge of me?"

"because I have lived longer and know more things than you do. I know how to teach you and keep you safe."

"I know lots of things. I am very smart. and cool. I think that i could be in charge of you."

"well...do you know how to read?"

"no. but i am very smart."

"yes frank, you are smart, but you should not tell people that, because it is bragging and nobody likes to hear people brag about how smart they are."

"why does daddy have to go to work all the time? does he go to make the moneys? why do you have to do boring stuff all the time?"

...then i tackled him and tickled him till he stopped talking. I am thankful for things like the quiet game and that you cannot talk while being tickled.

I think of you often

i have written about 3 posts in the past 3 days, but I keep deleting them because they are stupid.
Frank would say that is not a nice word, but it is true.
I seriously think throughout my days about what I can post on this silly thing, but nothing seems good enough lately.

i will tell you all about my boring self just as soon as I can.
But right now....I've got a contest to enter and it is going to take what little free time I have between now and vacation.
I'll keep you posted in days to come. You are gonna help me win.

oh friends. how I am wanting to write and be creative. but my mind is a melted mush.
It is all fuzzy from the best ever chocolate sheet cake and living in houston.

Today I will go exercise. i will drink more water. I will do laundry to prepare for the next trip. I will wash the pans that have been soaking in the sink for 4 days. I will play Candyland. I will buy groceries. I will delete photos from my camera so that my memory card stops telling me that it is full. I will try to be cheerful as i do these things.

pictures and the police

okay, i lied. i took pictures.
back home. I've been here since Tuesday, but have been finding it hard to write lately. too much to do, I suppose. Well, that is not entirely true. I have been working really hard at finishing "Lonesome Dove" during naptimes. I finally finished it yesterday. It was a very good movie. Very long, but good. Anyway, I apologize for watching a movie instead of writing. That was very selfish of me.

There were many good stories from Kansas, but truly I don't have it in me to tell them all. My back hurts from the Bodypump class yesterday, and typing is hard - do you hear the whining in my voice? I usually send frank to his room or outside if he has to whine. Where do I put myself?

I just found out about Henry Louis Gates Jr.'s arrest. That is crazy. I have heard him on the radio many times. I find it so hard to believe that he would talk about the arresting police officer's "mama." So strange. I feel like there must be more to the story than what I read in the paper today.

I taught Frank how to dial 911 today and what an emergency means. I figured it was about time he learn how to turn on the phone.

I will never forget the day my mom taught me how to call 911. I believe that I was about his age. She explained what an emergency was and that I should only call that number in the event of an emergency. I said, "okay." When she went outside, I picked up the phone and dialed 9-1-1.

The dispatcher asked me what was my emergency, I said, "is this Mrs. Magarther? Hi. This is Erin." then I asked if it was "Aunt Betsy" and accused the dispatcher of "being silly," and "pretending" not to be Aunt Betsy. She asked if my mom was home, I went out to get my mom, but she asked me to take a message because she was talking to our neighbor. I came back and told the dispatcher that my mom was busy. I believe the dispatcher gave me some sort of stern warning about calling 9-1-1, but did not send a car to our house.

I felt guilt for years after that event. I don't think I even told anyone about it until i was at least 15. I don't think I told my parents until i was in college. It was a burden to me for years until I told my parents.

I wonder now...what will Frank and Ford be up to when I am not looking? Will they feel guilty? Will they confess? Please Lord, let me catch them when they make their mistakes and let their mistakes be silly and small.

Kansas City/Columbia/Kansas City

It would be an understatement to say that the weather is beautiful in the midwest this summer. What does the Lord have against Houston in the summer?

Is that sacriligious? Forgive me, Jesus. But come now, it is gorgeous here. I'm looking at stars, catching fireflies, wearing jeans, walk-jogging at 10 am, and the temperature hasn't been above 85 degrees since i have been here.

I have stunk at taking pictures on this trip, choosing instead to just enjoy my time here with the people I love.

Halfway there

I have been reading and hearing a lot lately about people's favorite summer memories. To date, this is one of the worst summers that I can remember. Don't get me wrong, I love my boys and have thoroughly enjoyed them. BUT that said, the heat has been oppressively depressing here in South Texas. I know that I am not the only one suffering from this reverse seasonal affective disorder. Too much heat and sun can really drive a person mad. How many 100 degree days can we bear?

I almost think that life would be better without air conditioning? What, crazy lady? But maybe then we would all be outside, like we were after the hurricane. We could find solidarity in our suffering. Instead, we retreat to our air conditioned homes where we become isolated. I find myself even avoiding my car. I don't want to put the boys in their toaster-like car seats. Searing hot metal buckles touching baby skin? I try to avoid it. And who wants the back of their sticky thighs to melt on the hot leather seats? Seriously, you northerners have no idea how bad it is here. Summer here is like a winter of snowstorms up north. You just do not want to be outside - unless you are at the pool, which you can only do so much of with a seven month old.

ANYWAY...

this morning I woke up with a new attitude. I was lying in bed and suddenly began to recall my favorite summertime memories from my own childhood. Playing with neighbors, washing uncle DonnyBob's truck, eating ice cream and Mr. Freeze pops.

I realized that it is my job to create these same kind of memories for my boys. What? Oh that's right... its not about me and my whiny butt anymore. So...I drank iced coffee for breakfast, we put on our swimsuits, got out buckets, sponges, and the hose and went to work on washing my car. We worked in the garden and ate homemade pudding pops. During nap time today, I watched part of a movie in my swimming suit and ate a peanut butter and honey sandwich on white bread. Then I went to work on making a summer music playlist. I am going to embrace summer even if it kills me. Next stop - the pool and a barbeque.

no pictures, i am a slacker

This morning frank was sitting on my lap, giving me my morning hug. then he said,
"HEY! wait a second...what's that?" then he lifted my arm to look in my armpit.
"Well, Frank, that is a little bit of hair."
"What?!"
Then he peeked down my shirt to see if there was hair on my chest, too. When I explained that girls don't get hair on their chest like daddies do, he was amazed. (Then I decided to take a shower and take care of that business.)

He considers it a great day if I "get him," play Memory with him (and he wins), do some puzzles, and go to the library. He is so easy to please. I wish that a cardboard wrapping paper tube could fascinate me for hours. I wish life was as simple as it is for a 3 year old.

We've got plumbing problems, gate issues, an attic that needs insulation, a refrigerator that freezes and then defrosts on its own - and I don't know how to deal with any of it. I just want to play and eat ice cream and read books.

On another note, here is a translation of the frank dictionary that i have been wanting to write down:

contoons = cartoons "mama, I want to watch contoons."
july = jail. "this is the police. I am going to take you robbers to july."
coffee grandes = coffee grinds. "can I pour in the coffee grandes for you?"
sculpture = drawing. "I am going to draw you a sculpture, mama."
aminals = well, obviously animals, but i wonder if he will ever learn to say this word right, instead i find myself saying, "Frank, which aminals do you want to sleep with tonight?"

streaming

Listening to the new Wilco album.
Liking it.
Wish that women could wear cool suits without looking like a woman who is wearing a man's suit.
I always have wanted to wear a necktie.
I always have wanted to be Daryl Hannah in Splash.
Staring at the two weavels on my counter that are twitching before they die.
Is that gross?
A little bit.
Been fighting this weavel battle for about a month now.
I've taken apart the cabinet, thrown out anything that wasn't air tight, and I clean the shelves almost everyday.
But they keep coming back.
Weavels are so pitiful.
They don't do anything.
They don't fly. They just look like specks of dirt with legs.
They are all dead or dying when I find them, yet they keep appearing.
I think I am loosing this battle.
The flour is safe though, thanks to a cool new container from Marshalls.
Does Marshall's have an apostrophe?
I think so.
It is a good store to go to without kids.
Or husbands.
Or friends.
It is best enjoyed alone.
Found some treasures yesterday.
I got a turban.
Pretty excited.
Always wanted a turban.
I got some deep conditioner today.
I think I will go shower while the boys are asleep.
Then I'll put on my turban.
This song Bull Black Nova is no easy listening.
I might be skipping that when the kids are around.
See ya.

The 4th

It was a nice parade. Frank got to hang out with some firefighters. We ate. We didn't socialize much, but we tried our best to be neighborly.

Happy Independence Day.

*****

Green Onions

Storytime before nap
(Ford has inherited his father's gift of blinking and looking drunk when his picture is taken.)

Did you know that green onions will regenerate their greens if you put the white part in a glass of water? How did I get to be this old and not know that? You can have green onions anytime.

****

I watched a good documentary last night called Crazy Love.
If you like stories about bizarre people as much as I do, you will be enthralled. You can watch it instantly on Netflix if you haven't seen it.

****

I have a little portable fan on a shelf in Ford's room. It makes good noise and helps keep the sweltering temperature of my house in the summer down to a managable 77 degrees in his room. I went to change his diaper today, and as I was doing so, out of nowhere - it fell on his face. I am still in shock. It was awful. He only cried about 30 - 45 seconds, but his little eyebrow was swelling up and he refused my ice pak. My 6 month old could potentially have a black eye. The fan will never go on that shelf again.

****

Prepping for the neighborhood Pre - Fourth of July bicycle/wagon/tricycle parade tonight. Sheesh I suck at this stuff. I just remembered this morning about it. Now we need to decorate our tricycle, make some cookies, and pack a picnic dinner. I just looked up 4th of July crafts on the Family Fun website. I don't want to do any of that stuff. I am the worst stay at home mom ever.

****

Frank says that he didn't have a very good day today at school. There was a blow up moonwalk in the gym. He says he got in it, but only jumped one time, and then sat down the rest of the time. He says he doesn't like jumping in those "bouncy houses" but he didn't get out because he couldn't, and the teacher didn't know he wanted to get out. He said, "Helena said that I was being rude to her", but he says, "I wasn't really being rude to her, I was just pretending to be rude to her. I was pretending I was a whale shark (meaning killer whale) and she didn't want me to eat her. Everybody was also chasing me and Jakob, and Hayden was chasing me and I ran to the wall and then I fell down. It was a not very good day."

****

Missed Opportunity

I have a few regrets in my life. Some are stupid, like I wish I was more brave in my hairstyles, or I wish that we had traveled more before we had kids.

But some of my regrets haunt me. I have had opportunities to help and show love to people who really needed it. Those are the moments that I think I will regret for eternity. One of those events happened just last week.

I came to church about 10 minutes late because Ford had been sleeping in as he always does on Sunday. I sat down in the back of the church, and as I was sitting down, a nice looking woman in a sari whom I had never seen before put her hands out to take Ford from me. Now having had some awesome Indian women friends, I knew that this was pretty normal behavior in other cultures. So she held Ford throughout the worship, until I insisted on taking him back.

After the service was over, she informed me that she needed to talk to me. She took me in the hall and explained that she was from Pakistan and was staying at the shelter with her 3 kids across the street. She said that she had a real problem in that her kids hated the shelter food and were loosing weight. She asked me point blank if she could come to my house to cook for her kids. I froze.

Instantly I thought of excuses not to let her come over -- like I didn't have enough room in my car for all 4 of them, and I hadn't seen michael much in the past few weeks and didn't want to spend my entire Sunday grocery shopping, cooking and driving this woman around town.

I stalled. I made an excuse and asked a deacon if he could help me find a solution for this woman. We explained to her that we would see that she has a place to cook next Sunday when she comes to church. She seemed satisfied, and I went back to my house and didn't think about it anymore until Wednesday when the church deacon called me and left a message to discuss our plan for her.

I again came up with every excuse not to be the one to help this woman. I talked to Michael, and as I voiced my complaints, he listened kindly, but said that he could not validate my excuses....and then i was convicted, like a ton of bricks hit me in the gut. I knew in my heart that God seated her next to me, and this was not only my responsibility, but an opportunity God was giving me to serve him and show love to one of his people. As I realized the weight of my mistake, I tried to leave a message at the shelter for her, saying that I would be there to take her home next Sunday, but they wouldn't take the message. They told me i could leave something in writing, but I didn't. I assumed instead, that she would be there on Sunday, and I could take her to the store and to my house. I began to look forward to it.

But she didn't show up to church last Sunday.

And why would she? She asked for help, and I gave her an excuse. I missed the mark. What love of Christ did she feel that day? We sang songs about God's love, but her children were hungry on that day - and I offered to feed them next week. I admit was taken aback by her direct manner of speaking to me, but as I look back, I see that she was a mother desperate to feed her kids. How would I feel in a similar situation?

She will probably never come back to our church again. That is how opportunities happen. They are here, and then they are gone. I keep seeing her son's sweet face, and I am so disappointed. I had a chance to love on those kids. Who knows where they will end up in life, and I had a chance to talk to them and share my home with them, and I missed it.

I share this story to remind myself to be eager to do good. I looked up eager and actions in an online Bible concordance and these are just a few verses that I found:


1 John 3:18
Dear children, let us not love with words or tongue but with actions and in truth.

1 Peter 5:2
Be shepherds of God's flock that is under your care, serving as overseers—not because you must, but because you are willing, as God wants you to be; not greedy for money, but eager to serve;

1 Peter 3:13
Who is going to harm you if you are eager to do good?

James 2:22
You see that his faith and his actions were working together, and his faith was made complete by what he did.

2 Corinthians 9:2
For I know your eagerness to help, and I have been boasting about it to the Macedonians, telling them that since last year you in Achaia were ready to give; and your enthusiasm has stirred most of them to action.

and then Jesus, The Man said:

John 13:34
"A new command I give you: Love one another. As I have loved you, so you must love one another.

John 13:35
By this all men will know that you are my disciples, if you love one another."

Weekend Update

A weekend of rest. There is little to report from this weekend. We just hung out as a family. No guests, no dinners, no pies. Nothing note worthy to write about, but very noteworthy to me. How blessed to just be eating, drinking and breathing together. Michael took friday off. We did NASA and the pool. We had a date and saw Star Trek. Frank asked funny questions like, "what are my testiclessess for?" and he announced that someday he would grow up to be a man and God will give him "ants" just like daddy has. (ants meaning whiskers, because they are small and itchy). I got a drum lesson and talked a lot with my favorite person on the planet. I wish they were all 3 day weekends.

A morning

Talking at the breakfast table, I am serving Frank 3 bowls of cereal, picking up Ford's sippy cup from the floor, serving Ford one cheerio, picking up sippy cup, making coffee, picking up sippy cup, filling drinks, and picking up Ford's sippy cup from the floor.

I say, "wow, Frank, now I get to take care of you, me and Ford at mealtimes."

then frank says, "and daddy, too."

"yes, and daddy, too. I sure am lucky that I get to take care of all of you."

"but mama....(in a fake sort of whiny voice) I thought it was all about me!"

I stop at the refrigerator and laugh because I used to think so, too. Then i picked up the sippy cup from the floor.

photo taken by Frank

The namesake

I'm so excited that someone posted this on youtube!

Whoever it is that puts old cartoons on there, may God bless you - because we love finding them.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=5jdP7HUPbVs

Frank and stuff

Frank's "art car"

One problem with a blog is this: I really care about all 12 of you who read this. I feel like this conversation is so one-sided and I hate that. Plus, it feels conceited to be talking about myself all the time. I was raised that it is not polite to talk about yourself all the time.

You know all about me, but I am wondering all about you. I want to know about your vacations and your workdays, your families and your recipes. So...that said, I just don't know what to do other than to ask you to send me emails, comments, or better yet, call me here and there to tell me what you are doing, too.

Now then, here is more about me.


I am posting lots of Frank pictures. As he gets closer to 4, he is just so amazing. Truly he and Ford are the light of my life. It is a pleasure to be their mom - especially this past week. I have been trying to use the simple tips from the Love and Logic book for kids under 6, and between their advice - and Frank's sweetness that is maturing with age, I feel very blessed by the fun we've been having in the sweatbox that is Houston in summer.

Swimming with the big people, shooting them with guns, and loving every minute

Wearing his back-pack, sunglasses, and pajamas for about 2 hours that morning

Frank says, "mama, you know why I weally want to be a grown-up?"
Mama: "why?"
Frank: "Because when I am a grown-man, I can use a knife weally good. That's why."

Don't grow up too fast, bud.