The Birthday Boy, Scissors at the Smithsonian, and the Owie Cowboy Boots.

It was a late night. The Redskins didn't finish their assault on the Cowboys until 11:45. The sleeping children peppered PaPa and Grandma's floor. The awake children were fading fast. We had fifteen minutes until I had an appointment with my camera and our first son. Seven. I can still barely believe it. Our little Ian is seven. In order to be able to get the first minute our little boy left his sixth year behind on camera we decided to stay for just 15 more minutes.



Tommy and I loaded the sleeping football fans into the van. Funny. We arrived with a six year old and left with a seven year old.

The next morning Daddy went to Wall's bakery to obtain the chocolate eclairs the dude wanted for his birthday breakfast, we all enjoyed the oh so rich treat, then started on an adventure down town.



It was a beautiful morning- high, clear skies with a few whispy, soft white, clouds dancing up high as if enticing the sun's rays to come and play. Our drive into the city was calm since everyone was already tucked away into their offices or going to their next meeting on foot. The refreshing breeze that accompanied us on the drive in stayed with us as we fed the parking meeter and made our way- hand in hand into the Air and Space Museum.

The atmosphere inside was night and day from the peaceful one we had left on the shaded concrete steps. Perhaps the angry security guard swayed my view. You see, apparently leaving 5 pairs of scrapbooking scissors in your diaper bag isn't a good idea. Those guards don't take kindly to the thought of being scalloped, zig-zagged, or cropped in any manner. Who knew?

After the offending scissors were removed from the bag, the guard admited that they looked bigger on the x-ray screen than they actually were and allowed us to enter the museum. Just think of the headlines. Family Of Seven arrested at Air and Space Museum. Seven week old infant biggest offender. All involved charged with concealed crafting.

Finally we were able to take in all of the aircrafts surrounding us.



There was an example of a pilot's uniform. The display used a manequin with a clear head. In Katherine's mind, any body with an invisible head is a bad guy. Which she proceeded to inform us repeatedly that there was a bad guy.



Every time she insisted that he was a bad guy, we insisted that he was a pilot. Then, when I asked her to tell the camera that he was a bad guy, she promptly smiled and said, "Good guy."



The childrens' favorite part was the hands on room.











Even though Jonathan was asleep, we wanted to make sure we got a picture of his firt time down town. Please ignore the walrus holding him.



Do you see the pained expression on sweet Emily's face?



Do you also see that she is wearing cowboy boots? Well. We were packing the van and she confided in Ian that she couldn't find her shoes. Always the loving brother, not to mention anxious to get going, he went upstairs and retrieved his old cowboy boots ... from two years ago so she could borrow them. Fabulous plan, yes?

Well, they rubbed those tiny ankles raw.



Finally, she wasn't able to take them any longer and decided that barefoot was the way to go. However, I wouldn't think it the wisest decision to walk barefoot on the National Mall.



Daddy was sweet enough to carry her to the car so I could convince Katherine that while the squirrel running around our feet may have looked cute, he wouldn't have made a good pet. Not to mention the ninja squirrel that protects our oak tree would have been a tad bit jealous.

Traffic wasn't too bad and in no time we were home enjoying the spaghetti and meatballs that the birthday boy requested. He had already had his birthday cake at the party he and Daddy shared, but I couldn't help but want to see him blow out some candles on his actual birthday.



With a little help from his littlest sister he was able to blow them all out.





Then, we all. went. to. bed.

Me Wishes Me Were A Mommy!

A content Jonathan was asleep in his bouncy seat; Abigail was standing at the island peeling cucumbers for our salad. Ian, Katherine, and Emily were gathered around the table watching the tears pour down my face as I chopped the world’s most potent onion for our spaghetti sauce.

About half way through sweet Emily said, “Me wishes me were a Mommy.”

Through the Niagra Falls imitation wreaking havoc on my eyes I tried to glance and smile at her before saying, “Aw, maybe one day God will make you a Mommy.”

“Nooooo! Me wishes me were a Mommy RIGHT NOW so I could cut your onion up for you.”

Bless You

I was cuddling with precious two day old Jonathan and his doting, sweet, adorable two year old sister when he let out a tiny, yet fierce, sneeze. This sneeze controlled his whole little body, causing him to punch himself in his beautiful, previously calm and restful face … with both bunched up itty bitty fists.

Katherine looked at me with her sparkling blue eyes open wide and a mouth shaped in an O. (Which, I have to admit, prompted me to wonder if perhaps I have allowed them to watch too many Shirley Temple movies lately.)

I laughed and said, “He sneezed!” as I nuzzled his soft neck and held him close to me in an attempt to comfort him back to sleep.

I was enjoying that one of a kind, irresistible newborn smell when Katherine shook her head, causing wisps of blonde cotton candy hair to fly back and forth before landing in her smiley squenched up eyes. “Nuh-uh, Momma! He bless youed.”

Jonathan

To Choose Joy

Ah, joy.

joy -noun

 1. the emotion of great delight or happiness caused by something exceptionally good or satisfying; keen pleasure; elation

I choose, to choose joy. There are always things in this sin fallen world that could bring us down. There are disappointments, failings, and sadnesses that abound. Tucked very quietly in those dissappointments JOY is hidden for you to find. It is there for you to choose, if you so choose, to choose joy. A tiny smirk that will flame to a full belly laugh with just the right amount of attention. Psalm 16:11 Thou wilt shew me the path of life: in thy presence is fulness of joy; at thy right hand there are pleasures for evermore. I'm not talking making lemonade with lemons. No, don't change a thing. No adding sugar ... just looking. Looking for the joy in the sadness. A raindrop that can be felt on the nose of a toddler as she spins in the glorious rain. A chance to hold hands and slosh in puddles. Listening for that sizzling sound as fat raindrops assault the hot grill. Taking time to stop and smell the ... chicken? A smile on the man's face that holds the key to your heart. I choose joy.

Canning Jars- Reposted

I love canning jars! We use them for everything! We use them to drink out of and place the lid on if we have any left overs (especially milk!) to save in the fridge for later!



Every morning my Ian was saying "I'm hungry." before his eyes were even open. So, I started to make fruit and yogurt parfaits to keep in the fridge to be grabbed by hungry kiddos as needed. We make a four days worth at a time.



I store bulk herbs in them as well as mix many batches of taco seasoning, ranch dressing mix, and Italian dressing mix to always have on hand ... all stored in the canning jars! (Miss Katherine is nursing, and I don't already have a picture of the seasonings. Hopefully I'll add it in later.)

Their worth is endless! What else do you use canning jars for, babycakes?

Flower Child

Hey, flower child!



Who, me?



Well, certainly not me!

Sunshine

The snow has all melted lazily away and the daffodils are starting to poke their encouraging little heads through the still-wet ground. This morning, the sun beat the alarm clock and pulled us enticingly out of bed whispering promises of what the day could hold. For the first time this year I started a load of wash eagerly knowing that it would be hung out to dry under the sun, dancing in the wind, collecting the smell of that beautiful sunshine. Tonight, I'll drift to sleep wrapped in sunshine under the moonlight and twinkle of the stars. What a beautiful day to enjoy outside. The children laughed, danced, and played. Miss Katherine, a little too eager and not quite as careful as she ought, took a spill landing on her tender little knee. Her cotton candy hair, the color of honeysuckles, lifted and floated back down when she let out a puff of air in disappointment. Sitting now firmly on the ground, she bent her knee and leaned her tiny head to see the damage. Of course, I was making my way to survey the damage myself. Knowing I would be right there, she lifted that little head, tilted it, her sparkling blue eyes scrunched with concern met my eyes while she said, "Kiss it, Momma?" Oh, of course I would. As I bent and gently pressed my lips to that beautiful little knee and the injury that was not much more than smeared mud and a bit of torn skin, she wrapped her arms around my neck. The scent that I had been longing to smell on my quilt later tonight lingered in that precious cotton candy hair. Sunshine. Hello, sunshine my friend, it's been a while. Good to see you back.