In which we enjoy a beautiful weekend with the nature.

Friday night, as Brian and I got on the same page about our weekend, I asked if we could clean up the yard. Yesterday we did just that, raking leaves, cleaning up patio furniture and throwing away or recycling masses of broken toy pieces. Props go to Brian for his willingness to put up with me, as I sent a text to a friend yesterday morning that read

"Oh, the hormonal flux. I am so ANGRY today."

(I'm sure you're sorry you missed it)

(Also, her response? "Let's give them up for Lent!". Because she's awesome.)

So anyway, the point here is that our yard looks lovely today, so we decided to eat lunch outside.
I walked in the house to grab sunglasses, then bolted back outside when Benji started screaming, sure he'd fallen off the chair he was sitting in.

It was much worse (for him).

Teriyaki The Friendly Chicken had jumped into his lap and pecked at the food he was holding. He was inconsolable. I ended up grabbing both our plates and bringing him into the house to finish.

Five minutes later, Brian came in to let me know that the chickens were no longer allowed to attend lunch because Teriyaki The Naughty But Friendly Chicken next jumped to Nathan's chair, ran behind his rear, then to his armrest, then ran across the table. Brian raced around the table to shoo her off, so being the naughty chicken she is, she turned around, retraced her steps across the table to Nathan's chair and made her way back down.

Teriyaki, The Naughty But Friendly Chicken

The chickens were summarily sent to their room.

Chicken Jail

The moral of the story: Chickens have no table manners.

Drill Sergeant Daddy

I have a feeling there will be a lot more of this in the future!

Drill sergeant daddy from Miranda Stewart on Vimeo.

Translation: I won't jump on the sofa!

Also, I was hiding behind Brian so that Isaac wouldn't see me taking the video and wouldn't hear me desperately trying not to giggle out loud!

A healthy sense of self confidence

Says Nathan:

The only reason I'm not cute anymore is that handsome took over.

Maybe my favorite holiday.

I love New Years.

The holiday season flies by at the speed of light, stress and angst at every corner.

In October, there's Halloween, in which the part of me that grew up Southern Baptist can never be comfortable celebrating, and the part of me that is a health food nut can never be okay with the candy consumption. But we jump in with both feet, costumes, trick-or-treating, candy and all.

In November, there's Thanksgiving, in which I feel the need to prove my domestic fabulousness, even though I'm the only one who really gives a rip, and my kids don't like anything but the turkey and dinner rolls. Oh yeah, and try to remember to um, be THANKFUL and stuff. But we count our blessings at least twice, three or four times if I'm really on top of it, and I try not to feel too guilty about whichever family we're not with this year.

In December, oh, it's a DOOZY! In December, I try to manage our budget while simultaneously buying or making a thoughtful gift for every single person we know, feel guilty about the not-thoughtful gifts, try not to give in to the stress of imperfections in the thoughtful gifts, forget to make dinner, forget to buy food in general, feel angsty about the whole Santa thing, forget to even PLAN a gift for at least three people, second guess the plan... And yell at my husband a lot for not being psychic. Oh yeah, and teach my children that WE LOVE CHRISTMAS because JESUS! YAY JESUS!

Dude. Here's why I love the new year:

Tomorrow, life will be boring.

For a couple months, we will work on re-establishing a rhythm. I will forget a bunch of minor holidays and shrug it off. Sometime in February, all the stuff we've been working on since August will start to come together. I will take deep breaths.

The days will start to get longer. Flowers and trees will bloom. I'll be able to find God in the slowness of not trying to make everything perfect for celebrations he never commanded anyway. Every New Year, I remember what faith feels like. What hope and optimism look like.

A New Year. Welcome, 2013.

Benjamin's Quilt

Last week, as I was thinking about the kids' Christmas gifts, I needed to come up with something for Benjamin. As the poor fourth kid, there is absolutely nothing he needs, but obviously we want to mark his first Christmas with something special.

I decided to make him a small quilt, just as fast as I possibly could... And I busted this sucker out in just a few days:

Sunday, I bought the fabric,
Monday, I cut and began piecing it,
Tuesday, I finished piecing it and made the quilt sandwich,
Wednesday, I quilted it, cut the binding... AND.... My iron died. IRON FAIL.

We left for Brian's company meeting, and my sweet sister gave me my kids and her iron on the way home, so Sunday, I bound it.

The quilt is backed in a cozy flannel that I found on Joann.com on Black Friday for $1.98 per yard. Score!

Finished size is 38x48

Happy Birthday, Isaac!

Isaac has hit that phase where every little thing that goes wrong, no matter how minor, warrants the Death Scream. He'll outgrow it soon, I'm sure; the others did it too. In the meantime, I have about three heart attacks a day, and inevitably, DON'T come when he's actually hurt.

On the other hand, Brenna has figured out how to make him laugh really quickly, and its such fun to see her step into that role on behalf of her pesky little brother.

In related news, last night, the kids were being SO LOUD in bed, what with the cackling, bouncing and merry-making, Brian made a sarcastic comment about it clearly being time for sleep. I responded, "yeah, but they really like each other."

"Yeah, I guess they do," he said, and we sat there for a bit and just enjoyed that idea.