VBS Day One: Done!

The day started off pretty good ... we were only 10 minutes later getting in the truck than I planned.  Impressive, in my book.  Of course, when we got to church, it was total chaos.  Show me a VBS that isn't the first day.  Realized last night that I forgot to enroll the kids, and I tried to do it online.  Nope, closed out.  So we had to sign up in person.  This means juggling a toddler and an infant, chucking them in the nursery with a harried worker, and attempting to fill out forms when 20 other parents are doing the same thing.  THEN, and only then, we get the kids into their groups.  Where Savvy promptly has a melt down.  This is sooo not like her, and I'm at a loss as to what to do.  So ... I threaten her.  Probably not the best idea, but I was supposed to be upstairs helping with crafts, and here is my six year old having a quivering fit because she doesn't want to be left alone.

I have to say that I have a really hard time remembering that she JUST finished kindergarten.  Most of the time, it seems that she and Riley are the same age.  I felt so bad for her, but at the same time, Savvy rarely has episodes like this one.  Once she realized that she could either calm down and go with the group or go home, it got a little better. 

Crafts Room was surprisingly easy going.  Lots of good help from several ladies in my Bible Fellowship class.  Thanks to their hard work prepping, most of the craft items were assembled in the weeks preceding VBS.  (Their work, as I was only able to attend one prep session.  Kind of hard towing these four hooligans around.)  I'm hoping tomorrow goes as well as today. 

Day Two project:  Clay sundials.  We're hoping the clay dries and actually STICKS to the disk.

The Weekend Grind

So, I've discovered that it's VERY, VERY hard to blog on the weekends.  Seems like we are constantly moving and doing, and at the same time, getting next-to-nothing done.  But this weekend was a productive one.

I have New Car Fever ... bad.  After searching new and used cars all day Thursday and Friday, and car shopping in person on Friday and Saturday, we weren't able to locate that perfect vehicle to fill the 'Burb's shoes.  We've decided to go ahead and use the money (in the future) to fix up the Suburban and make it a much nicer vehicle on the inside.  Thankfully, there is nothing wrong with the engine and it's very reliable.  I think that I am being taught to be thankful for the things I have and not to be envious of the newer, flashy trucks roaring down the highway.

It's Sunday now, and though I've been going at it non-stop, the only thing that I've managed to get accomplished is a couple loads of laundry (blah) and cleaning the downstairs bathroom (ick).

Jesse was much more successful in getting stuff done.  He got one of the seats removed from the truck -- to aid in loading/unloading heathen children.  And he got the garage clean enough to move the trailer inside.  Now the mowers won't have to worry about weed-whacking around that sucker anymore.  Just have to get the grass to grow back again.

Happy Father's Day

A Dremel tool set to replace his stolen ones, and cards made my the older girls.  That's the Father's Day gift this year for the hubs.  I am so blessed that God has given me the world's best husband and father to my kiddos.  And while I am so happy to celebrate his day, I am missing my own Daddy today as well. 

We lost my dad, Robert Pate, seven years ago this June.  I miss him so much.  The grandkids called him Papa Bear.  I remember the last Christmas that we had with him ... he and Mom came to our house in Bryan during one of the worst hail and thunderstorms I've ever experienced.  Baseball sized hail!  But I mostly remember my dad on the floor, chasing a crawling Riley across the floor. 

I was pregnant with Savvy when he died.  My only regret is that he never got to meet Savvy, Brooke and Isaac. 

My dad had this mischievous twinkle in his eye.  Even when he was just relaxing, he always looked like he was up to no good.  My Aunt Donna said that he could charm anyone out of anything, and she lost many a candy bar to prove it.  He was a rough man, but an old softy.  Liked to pick on ya if he liked ya.  That kind of guy.

His life ended too soon, at the age of 53.

Miss you, Daddy.

Butt Sniffer and Other Odd Jobs

Who knew that when I became a parent that I would spend a good majority of my time sniffing baby butts?  Because of my keen sense of smell, this method is preferred to the traditional sneak-a-peek.  Because with The Sniff, one is spared the nasty surprise of a leaky diaper seeping onto unsuspecting fingers.  I can remember my grandmother, mother and aunt checking bums by reaching a probing finger down the back of the diaper in question.  What the heck were they thinking?  Yeah, The Sniff is easier ... and more sanitary.  But people really look at you funny when you hold your kid's butt up to your nose at Applebees.  Oh well.

I've also added Human Crib to my list of jobs, since The Boy is spoiled and likes to be held while he's sleeping.  After cleaning my older girls' bathroom, I think I may be a Certified Biohazard Technician.  I'm also the resident Locator, finding puzzle pieces, teeny toys and hair thingamabobs lost in space and time.

And let's not forget:  I am the only registered Hygienic Paper Location and Installation Expert in the house.

T-R-O-U-B-L-E

Combine one part water with one part blue sidewalk chalk.  Add an inquisitive 2-year old, and this is what you get.  Just an example of the gamut this child makes me run daily. 

What's that Smell?

So I am wandering around my house trying to figure out what is causing the noxious smell.  Figured it was the stack of dirty dishes on the counter by the sink ... nope.  Well, yes, they stink.  But it's not The Stank.  Not the trash either, and not a poopy diaper.  I'm guessing it's the smell of insanity.  Yes, that must be it.  So, here's what insanity smells like:  maple syrup on top of poop, with a hint of last night's empty raw hamburger container and a dash of sweaty socks. 

And now you're wondering what kind of pigsty I live in.  Great.  Honestly, it's not that messy.  I like to call it Lived In.

A Cautious Beginning

After much encouragement, I begin this blog.  Mainly to vent, sometimes entertain, and certainly to convey the joy that I get from staying at home with my young children. 

If I can manage to keep this thing going, you will find that I am not a perfect mother, nor have I ever professed to be.  Most days I am EXTREMELY irritable, suffering from an acute case of Motheritis.  It's the condition a mother acquires after spending most of her time with anklebiters and whiners.  I yell ... a lot.  Usually, it's "STOP WHINING!"  After all, I have three girls.  And a boy.  Let's not forget The Boy.

Here is the cast of characters:

Jennifer:  Sometimes called Jen or Jenny, but mostly called Mom.

Jesse:  The hubs, aka Daddy.

Riley:  8 yr-old girl child, lives in her own place called Riley World.  She will tell you the trees are pink and the clouds are cotton candy.

Savvy:  Full name Savannah.  Six years old and reigning Drama Queen.

Brooke:  Age 2, full of spit and vinegar.  She's a tough ol' bird and a constant flow of energy.  I lost 20 pounds when she learned to walk.

Isaac:  The Boy.  Six-months old at present, and a Daddy clone.  Can currently be found rolling around the floor, seeking objects to insert in his mouth.

First blog entry:  done.  Enjoy the ride!