Cute, priceless and a little embarrassing

We have added a little Zazz to our nightly routine.

I guess after 6 or so years, the nightly book, bath, brush, tickle, talk, smooch, prayer bit has gotten crusty for them.

So the kids (5 and 6 years old now) have decided to request our presence at a party in their bedrooms.

We knock.
They giggle.
We are invited in.
Upon entering, we see that they have plugged in their special lights and gotten all their blinky-light toys to strobing. They start the beat, in pure techno fashion - and then comes the dancing.

All four of us jump around, flopping our arms, and trying not to strain our backs to the tune of their techno beat. It's an all-out Hoopla.
Little girl actually assigns a syllable to the bass line, "Oots, oots, oots, oots" she says in quite possibly the sweetest, rhythmic voice you've ever heard...

We dance till we jiggle our sillies out and then we finish our same ol' crusty routine.
I love going to their bedtime parties.

Pathetic

If you scroll down and look at the number of posts in November, December, January, and February combined, you will realize that they are less than October's alone.

That's bad. Also, I promised pictures a while back.
Do you see any pictures? Nope.

Well I would say that would mean its time for me to regulate on this blog, wouldn't you?

But I'm not gonna. Not unless I get everything else done.

In keeping with the frequency of updates in the past 4 months, I'll keep you posted...
:)

A 'glass half full' moment

Today I started to feel a little sorry for myself.

I think I only saw my kids for about 5 minutes today.
Wednesdays are hard: today was harder than normal.
Chris had surgery yesterday. I had to take the day off from work (naturally) to be with him.
The surgery needed to happen and everything will be dandy once he's all healed up. But when your spouse has surgery - you get a bag full of stuff to weigh you down- the worry, the emotional toll, the extra portion of responsibility, yada yada yada.

In a job like mine, it's not possible to miss a day and not be a day behind. So today held it's own set of challenges.
I digress...

I had to sell my coveted Jeep. Coveted = bad. I am now the proud new owner of a 'not-as-new' Mercury Villager.
In the Urban dictionary, I am pretty sure Mercury Villager would be defined as coolness. A swanky ride, no doubt.

"Poor me."

Then God blessed me with this beautiful glimpse of his perspective, and in a breath,

"Praise God!"

When my children aren't with me, which nowadays is a lot of the time, they are with my mom and dad. My parents are faithful to pray for my children. They tell them all about God. They teach them things about life, and friendship, and family, and all things good.

Chris was able to get medical care. There are plenty of stories floating around about people who have needed medical attention and haven't been as lucky as Chris to receive it. He'll go back to work and be fine.

Another blessing: we're both employed!

So many reasons to feel richly blessed.

I have a vehicle that runs, is paid for, and is defined in the Urban dictionary as "coolness." What could be better! :)

I could go on with accounts of our blessings, but mostly I want to ruminate on these thoughts.

Even when my thoughts turn to the more negative side, God's viewpoint wavers not.
His thoughts for us are good - I just need to set my mind on things above, not on earthly things. (Colossians 3:2)

Snapshot.

I see a perfectly perched pair of Beauty and the Beast dress up high heels on a step stool next to the sink, a spiderman towel hung sloppily on a hook, and pancake syrup drizzled across the dining room table.

I take a step and hear the crackle of syrup sticking to the bottom of my high heel.
I stealthily steal a maple kiss from my little girl and wriggle my fingers through my son's 'just woke up' hair.

Pillows piled high in my little girl's bedroom, the remnants of a pillow fortress she builds each night to nestle into. Her cheery room is no reflection of her morning mood. She's a cuddler by night, a grumpalufaguss by morning...

My son's bedroom - which looks more like a perfect replica of our solar system - smells just like him. Scrumptious, musky boy. His cork board displays his latest masterpieces, which are pretty good - frameable even. He's much softer in the morning than his knobby knees and elbows appear. His squishy, warm ears plead to be squeezed on his way out the door.

They groggily rummage through their shoes, and jackets, and hairbows as we charge through our morning, preparing for another big day.

Everything in our home begs us to stay, cozily soaking each other in, all day long.
But life keeps calling us to our many different directions.

I can't wait for this evening when we can all be together again!
Until then, Lord, be with them and keep them.