Fix It

Jonah brought me a toy brush. "Can you fix my hair?"

"Sure," I said. I swiped the brush across his head a few times. "There you go."

"Did you fix it?"

"Yep."

He touched his head. "You fixed it! It's not broken!"

Just Like Brother

When I was little, I never knew what to do with Barbie dolls. I had a few, because my friends had them, but I rarely played with them. My brother and I spent much more time with his trucks and Micro Machines.

It surprised me when Anna and Sarah began to show a strong preference for all things girly. They love dresses and bows and pink hair curlers, all of which I loathed as a child. This makes Grammie very happy.

Naiah is only thirteen months old, but we already know she's my clone. My parents have flashbacks when they hold her. She pretends everything plastic is a car. She plays with balls and action figures, and follows Jonah around the yard.

Yesterday afternoon, she watched him intently while he played tee-ball. We had to pull her away from the tee again and again, so she wouldn't get clobbered by his swing.

Today, she went outside with her sisters, while Jonah took a nap. And what did she do?

She grabbed a plastic ball, toddled and crawled over to the tee, balanced the ball on top, picked up the bat (three inches longer than she is), stood up, and hit the ball with the bat.

That's my girl.

Good-Bye. Hello.

Well, my parents started the trip back to Ojai tonight. They'll stay overnight somewhere, a few hours from here, and get home in the afternoon tomorrow. I'm sadder than usual about their departure. It was fun introducing them to everyone at the church plant and the mother church.

So I have this clean house.

It seems like an enormous opportunity to start some new habits and routines, to make it beautiful and keep order.

I've been shining my sink every night. My counters are bare and bright every morning. I put things away. I think I like it. I could live like this.

So now I just need to keep ignoring that stupid voice in my head that says it's all doomed to explode any minute. I really am improving. Just not as quickly as I'd like.

At Breakfast

Me: Jonah, do you want me to cut your eggs up?

Jonah: No, just down.

Eavesdropping

Spoiler Warning: Pirates of the Caribbean, Dead Man's Chest

I was pushing Naiah and Jonah on the swings at the park today, when two boys took the swings next to us. The younger brother, Nathan, looked like he was around eight years old. The elder brother looked about ten or eleven.

I couldn't help but overhear. . .

Nathan: Hey, you know that ship that sank?

Big Brother: The Titanic?

Nathan: Yeah, that one. Do you think you'd be one of those people who'd stay on the ship, so other people could live?

Big Brother: Yeah, I'd do that. And you know how Jack Sparrow went down with The Black Pearl, so his friends got away from the Kraken?

Nathan: Yeah.

Big Brother: Would you do that to save people?

Nathan: You mean like if my family was on board?

Big Brother: Yeah.

Nathan: Yeah, I'd die if my family could get saved.

Big Brother: Me too. If Davy Jones asked me, I'd be like, "Yeah, I'm ready to die!"

Nathan: Yeah, me too.

Big Brother: I'd be like, "I'm not afraid of dying."

Nathan: Me too.

Big Brother: Nathan, who's always protecting you?

Nathan: God.

Big Brother: Yeah. Do you believe in miracles?

Nathan: Yeah.

Big Brother: I'm not scared of dying.

Found

It just gets weirder. The day before yesterday, I could not see a way in heck to make a dent in the towering mess that had overtaken my house. But yesterday, for no apparent reason, it suddenly made sense. Over the course of the day, I put the whole house to rights. I wish I could predict the days when I'll be able to think like a normal person, so I could plan to have company then.

I'm also realizing what an intolerable perfectionist I am. Even though the house went from war to peace in a day, I wasn't satisfied. There are still clothes in the laundry room. The desk is messy. And the bookshelves aren't arranged. I really need to get over myself.

So I'm back to reading FlyLady, shining my sink, and taking baby steps. Hopefully I'll get into a sustainable groove that I can practice and improve upon, and eventually look like an organized person on the outside, even if I'm still me on the inside.

Grammie? It's Grammie.

Papa and Grammie brought Anna and Sarah home yesterday. They're staying the weekend with us now, and heading back down to Ojai on Monday.

After breakfast, Jonah brought his toy cell phone to Grammie. "It's for you!" he said. "It's Grammie."

"Oh," said Grammie. And she proceeded to have a very convincing conversation with herself on the phone. "Okay, bye!" she said. She gave the phone back to Jonah.

He looked disappointed. "She's gone?"

Lost

I am NOT an organizer.

Just when I begin to see a glimmer of hope that, perhaps, finally, my one ounce of order is beginning to grow, the house explodes.

And so it is today.

It began last week, with a desire to get rid of the mounds of clothes lying about, mostly in the laundry room. So I hauled every last shirt, sock, and pillow case into the living room to sort them. I succeeded in weeding out two big bags full of miscellaneous clothes to donate.

Over the course of the week, my carefully sorted piles began to migrate and mingle, as Jonah and Jason and Naiah and I wandered among them and searched for things now and then. Some of them were put away. Some of them had no place to go. Some of them are sitting in stacks in front of my dresser, which is full. I honestly have no idea what to do with them. So they sit.

On Saturday, I overhauled the nursery room at church. I tossed about 3/4 of the junk, leaving only some cardboard blocks, the kitchen and its paraphernalia, and a few books and trucks. Then I scrubbed everything down with soap and water. It was gorgeous.

Something inside me said, "See? You can do this! You just needed a little boost of confidence."

So I went straight home and overhauled Jonah's room in the same way. Another success!

After that, I targeted the upstairs, which will be the girls' new bedroom.

Everything that did not belong was thrown down the stairs or trashed. I swept, mopped, vacuumed, dismantled the t.v. stand and shelves, cleaned out closets, and arranged the bed and other furniture.

It was all quite satisfying, until I saw the downstairs, which was even more chaotic and impassable than before.

To top it off, Jason kindly decided to clear out the mudroom (the entryway, which had been acting as a temporary storage room since the move). Clearing out the mudroom meant redistributing its contents throughout the living room, dining room, and shed, which, of course, caused even more mess, because now there are boxes and stacks of books, fabric, videos, and paper on every conceivable surface, waiting to be shelved or tucked away in some nonexistent drawer.

And, oh, yes, while I was trying to finish my bedroom, my son took leave to dump heaping scoops of powdered laundry detergent all over the laundry room floor, which I had just mopped. And so he is now confined to his room, where he can undo everything I accomplished there.

I'm utterly lost. I'm staring at rooms scattered with clothes, sheets, books, mail, bathroom products, and toys, and I am completely at a loss as to what to do with them all.

And I find myself asking the same question I've been asking since I first began to try to keep a house. Why do my attempts at cleaning inevitably create an insurmountable mess? What is WRONG with me? I can read Greek and Spanish and a little Hebrew! I passed accounting with Dr. Bonagofski! Why am I too stupid to clean my house?!

I'm going to flounder in the laundry room now.

Sixth Sense

"I do have friends, but they're dead."

-- Jonah, confused two-year-old. . . We hope.

Self Image

"Pretty!"

--Naiah, looking at herself in the mirror

So Married

On the walk home from church, Jason and I were arguing about whether our neighbors, Heidi and Jim, got married today or two days ago. When we arrived at our yard, Heidi was standing outside her front door.

Jonah yelled, " Heidi! Are you so married yet?"

Meme Tag

Well, I've been tagged by Sarah Grace. This has never happened to me before. I feel so bloggish.

The A-Z Tag Meme

Accent: Valley girl (when I'm excited), a touch of Southern drawl (when in Rome), blank Californian, mostly.

Bible Book that I like: Isaiah

Chore I don’t care for: Anything that requires organizational skills: putting away books, toys, dishes, laundry. Actually, anything that requires putting away.

Dog or Cat: No way, Jose. Maybe when we own a home.

Essential Electronics: DVD player, so Jonah will lie down in the afternoon.

Favorite Movie: Pride & Prejudice (the 6 hour A&E version), although the new version is growing on me.

Gold or Silver: Silver

Handbag I Carry Most Often: Brown, leather Mervynn's messenger bag. Frumpy.

Insomnia: Not so much this week. Naiah decided to start sleeping at night!

Job Title: Zookeeper

Kids: Anna and Sarah (age 4), Jonah (age 2), Naiah (age 1)

Living Arrangements: Rental that resembles a large gingerbread house.

Most Memorable Moment: Meeting my Texan husband for the first time at Hong Kong International Airport. I sat right next to him and said (in my best valley girl accent), "Oh, you have a guitar! I'm going to like you!"

Naughtiest Childhood Behavior: In second grade, I stole a plastic flamingo pen from a boy named Ryan. I was normally so well-behaved that the teacher accused Ryan of lying when he told her I had taken it. He burst into tears, and she yelled at him, demanding that he admit to lying, but he just sobbed more loudly. Finally, she asked me one more time if I had done it, and I confessed. Then the teacher burst into tears.

Phobia: Water. Well, really it's drowning. Mostly kids drowning.

Overnight Hospital Stays: The twins, the boy, the girl.

Quote: For you know that it was not with perishable things such as silver or gold that you were redeemed from the empty way of life handed down to you from your forefathers, but with the precious blood of Christ, a lamb without blemish or defect. He was chosen before the creation of the world, but was revealed in these last times for your sake. Through him you believe in God, who raised him from the dead and glorified him, and so your faith and hope are in God.

1 Pet 1:18-21

Religion: Active faith in Jesus as the only life, and only way to God.

Siblings: John (spiffy rocker, youth pastor, younger brother)

Time I Wake Up: Between 6:30 and 9:00. Preferably 9:00, but usually 7:30.

Unusual Talent: Hand-quilting, which is more old-fashioned than unusual, I suppose.

Vegetable I Refuse to Eat: Beets

Worst Habit: SUGAR.

X-rays: Orthodontal.

Yummy Stuff I Cook: French apple pies, oatmeal chocolate chip cookies, blondies, brown-sugar pound cake. . . Did I mention I have a sugar problem?

Zoo Animal I Like Most: The monkeys. They remind me of home.

Jenn, Jessica, Roxanne, You are tagged!

Naiah Gets Opinionated

Naiah is thirteen months old today.

This morning, Jonah threw a toy at her and yelled, "Catch!"

"Jonah, don't do that!" I said. "You could hurt her."

"Yeah!" said Naiah.

Love Hurts

I took Jonah to see Superman Returns this afternoon. I've never seen him sit so still for so long! He was absolutely enthralled. Afterwards, I quizzed him to see how much he understood.

"What did Superman do in the movie?" I asked him.

"He be'd mean to people."

"The bad guys?"

"Yeah. Superman is mean to bad guys."

"What did Lois Lane do?" I asked.

"She be'd mean to Superman."

The Clean Queens

The girls have been discovering their neater sides at Grammie's house this past week. . . folding and putting away clothes, keeping the play room tidy, making their bed, etc. They are thoroughly enjoying it all.

Any other mother would probably be elated that her children show such a penchant for order and cleanliness. I find it frightening, to be honest.

1. It's intimidating to know that my offspring (at the age of 4) are better at organization than I am.

2. I am crippled with guilt over the fact that I don't provide them with a structured, orderly household to flourish in.

3. I am terrified that they'll realize what a disorganized mother they have, and revolt.

Granted, I am improving, slowly, as I get older. But there is a shrill voice in my head which demands that I transform into the Queen of Clean, NOW. Right this second. Spare them the frustrations of messy play rooms and chaotic bookshelves and lost laundry.

But realistically, that kind of change will take time, time, and more time. Sigh.

So, in the meantime, I'm plotting to reacclimate them slowly to the general upheaval that is the Kerr residence by rearranging the house. When we moved here, I planned to give Anna and Sarah the upstairs. They weren't ready to leave Jonah, however, so the upstairs became a play room.

Now the upstairs will be the domain of civilization, to which the girls can retreat at their leisure (and to which I can send them at my leisure). They can have their own closets, dressers (once I find some), bookshelves, bedding, and they can organize and fold and tidy to their hearts' content.

Hopefully, that will buy me a little more time.

God Is Bigger Than the Boogie Man

Last night I walked into Jonah's room and found him sitting up in bed with the lights on.

"Jonah!" I scolded, "You leave the light off and go to sleep!" I turned out the light and started to shut the door.

Jonah whimpered. "But I'm scared!"

"Why are you scared? Your night light is on."

"But the monsters will get me!"

"You have monsters in your room?"

"Yes. Scary monsters."

"Silly boy," I said. "The monsters can't get you. Do you know why?"

"No."

"Because God is much, much bigger than the monsters!"

"He is?"

"Of course. God can squish the monsters with his thumb."

Jonah giggled. "No. . . God can make the monsters be nice to me!"

Bad Habits

Jonah was tearing around the house after his nap. He stopped in front of Naiah, snatched up his stick horse, and growled, "Mine!"

Naiah (12 months) watched him ride off, and then yelled back, "Mine!"

Well, that was quick.

Overheard at Snack Time

Our friends Maggie (age 5) and Abbie (age 2) came over and played with Jonah today.

Older Woman

Jonah: Maggie, do you know that I like you?

Maggie: Umm. . . I don't want to talk about this right now.

Big Stuff

Maggie: Aunt Becky, can I go down those stairs, please?

Me: No, not right now.

Maggie: Why?

Me: Because it's all dark and yucky down there. Plus, if you go down, then Jonah and Abbie will want to do it, because they think you're a cool, big kid.

Maggie: Well, the big kid part is true. And the cool part is true, too.

My Fault

Jonah announced this morning, "My potty pants are yucky!"

"That's okay," I said. "It's hard to go potty at night when you're sleeping."

"Yeah," said Jonah. "It's all my fault that they're yucky."

Special Guest Post: Grammie

Anna and Sarah are spending two weeks at my parents' house on their own. They couldn't wait for me to leave them there. Every day they were saying things like, "Are you leaving yet?" or "When are you and Jonah and Naiah going back to the mountains?" I would have been hurt by it if I didn't recognize myself in it. The apple doesn't fall far from the tree, I guess.

My mom shared a few tidbits from their time together so far. . .

My goodness! How do you keep up with the flow of comedy always gushing around you all the time? I cannot remember 90% of all I laugh at. Daddy and I are very much enjoying the girls. Here is two things I thought were very sweet and cute.

ANNA'S LUNCHTIME PRAYER

Dear God. Thank you for all the people. Thank you for letting our room become the play room. And thank you for letting Mommy's room and Mommy's bed become our bed. In Jesus' name. Amen.


FOLLOWING MY GOOD-BYE TO YOU ON THE PHONE. . .

Me: (To you) "Bye, Sweetie"
Anna: Why did you say, "sweetie"?
Me: Because your mommy is my sweetie. She was my baby when she was little, so I call her "sweetie".
Anna: You call me "sweetie" too.
Me: Yes, I do.
Anna: (Very confidantly) But Sissy and I are your Grand- sweeties!


Thank you for letting us enjoy them for the next two weeks. I'm sure we will have many memories that we will have for many years to come as a result. What little "sweeties"!!

I'm Home!

I cannot tell you how dizzy I am. It's kind of hard to type, actually. I had plenty of energy for the whole twelve-hour trip, but as soon as I stepped out of the van, it all hit me at once. Whew!

So thanks to all of you who prayed! The day was more pleasant than should be expected with a one year old and an almost three year old. (The girls are spending a few weeks more with Grammie and Papa.)

When I finally started heading up the mountain, and the trees closed in around us, I felt so at home. Most of my life I've been a Southern California girl, so I'm not sure why I feel that way. It's a big blessing.

I'm excited to catch up with all of my fellow bloggers tomorrow!

Good NIGHT!

4th of July

Overheard at the parade. . .

Anna: My favorite parade thing is the candy man. Is there a candy man at this parade?

Sarah: (spotting the Red Hat Ladies) Look! Clowns! With red clown hats!

Jonah: (as Miss Ojai rode past in her tiara) Papa! It's a prince!





At the BBQ/Fireworks show. . .

Jonah started getting a little nervous with all the talk about fireworks at dinner. He reassured Jesse, "Fireworks don't get me. Never, ever, ever."

After dark, he was wandering by the driveway when the first bang sounded. He screeched and came running back to Papa.

After a few minutes of pops and booms, he told Papa, "Fireworks don't hurt me." And he left Papa to sit alone on the lawn for the remainder of the show.

Afterwards, Papa asked, "Jonah, did you like the fireworks?"

"No."