Rivalry?

Anna: Hey, Sissy!

Sarah: What?

Anna: I wasn't talking to you.

Sarah: But I heard you say, "Hey, Sissy!"

Anna: I know. I was talking to Naiah.

Sarah: Gah!

Overzealous

I handed Naiah (16 months) a piece of ice.

"Quesadilla!" she said.

Impressive, but no.

The Weekend that Wasn't

The Plan

At the second Girls Only night, the teenagers were begging me for a sleepover. I agreed to it, with no idea how it would work out. (Our youth group basically consists of bullies and outcasts, and they don't tend to get along very well.) We planned to do it at the end of October, which gave me two months to plan.

An old friend from the Ojai church contacted me. She said two of the Ojai teens wanted to do a missions trip in-state. She asked if there was anything they could do for us. At first, I couldn't think of anything specific. Then God said, "Duh, sleepover!" (I don't think God really says 'duh,' but it felt that way.)

The Ojai girls were stoked. They could be themselves, love on our girls, and show them what a Jesus-following teenager looks and acts like. I gave them a list of the tough questions that the local girls keep asking and implying, plus a list of situations to prepare for (i.e. What will you do if someone insults you? If a fight breaks out? etc.)

They worked with one of the Ojai youth leaders, who was coming with them, preparing and praying and planning and praying some more. Together, they came up with wonderful ideas for how to serve and demonstrate Christ to the girls. Foot washing and pedicures, make-up sessions, hair styling, group games, waiting tables. . .

By the time they got to our house Thursday night (after driving all day), all we had to do was lay out a flexible schedule and pray like heck.

The Sleepover

At 5 p.m., one hour before starting time, girls started showing up. They were SO intrigued with the Ojai teens. They began to argue over which one would sit with them at dinner, or sleep next to them at night.

We seated them at festive tables, set by the Ojai team, and served them dinner and soda. We played games. We sang. We made brownies and painted toenails. The four girls from Ojai didn't waste a second of one-on-one time, were brave and effective in panel time, and answered some very scary questions about sex, rape, and dating. In short, they did what they came to do.

The local girls were so overwhelmed by how loved and special they felt, they didn't know what to do. Consequently, these are the things that, by the grace of God, did NOT happen at the sleepover:

Fist fights
Stealing
Destruction of property
Bullying
Exclusion
Disappearing
Inappropriate touching

Instead, we had a different group entirely. Girls who usually threaten each other and gang up on each other in the alleys were talking and laughing together. They momentarily forgot past grievances and played together. They rallied around the Ojai girls as if they suddenly had everything in common. It was miraculous.

Saturday Night

Hot Topic, the youth service, started four hours after the sleepover dispersed. Rather than preach, Jason continued the thread started by the Ojai team, and told the story of how God transformed his family and himself. I have never seen those kids sit so quietly for so long.

At home, we met with the Ojai team until 3 a.m., discussing what God had made of their visit, praying, and laughing.

Sunday

Around 9 a.m., they left for Ojai. Some of the local teens came to see them off. They cried over being left behind. One of them tried to steal a pair of shoes that had been left, so that the Ojai girls would have to come back to her to get them.

Church that morning was more stressful than usual, for lack of sleep, huge numbers of kids, messes, and missing Jenn (Pastor Jason's wife).

Afterward, we had more than our usual horde of kids over for lunch. While I was making the biscuits and sausage gravy, one of the sleepover girls (12 years old) pinned down a boy her age, with help from another girl, and 'accidentally' groped him. He was not amused. So after lunch, Jason spent the entire afternoon working as a mediator between the kids and the parents, and brokering peace.

It was a rough blow for us, and especially for her, to send her home. She's one of the most broken kids we have.

Later that evening, kids started showing up at our house again, waiting for the Singspiration to start. We were hosting it at our church, for the evangelical congregations in two neighboring towns. We headed over to the church just before six, and every one of the youth and kids turned out. I've never seen kids so excited about a bunch of worship bands and hymns. They had never heard of such a thing. They picked the music for our band to play, and took over the first three rows.

Afterward, I was serving brownies and helping out with refreshments, when one of my neighbors came up to me. She had a few choice words to say about how 'lenient' I am on the youth, and how she plans to start coming to all of our meetings to "whip them into shape." And, just to demonstrate, she openly yelled at one of the teenage girls next to me for interrupting her. Fun stuff.

So I cleaned the church kitchen and went home and called my mommy. And as I reviewed the entire weekend with her, and remembered how much huger all the blessings God poured out on these past few days were than the little bumps in the road from Sunday, I got over myself. We had a miraculous weekend. Exhausting, painful, fun, confusing, scary, encouraging, dangerous, and miraculous. God never makes it boring.

Sabbath

This is my front door, today.

Get it Right, Mom

Naiah is 16 months old now.

Me: Hello, little miss.

Naiah: I'm Yaiah.

Dinner Trouble

Jason: Food, meet Sarah's mouth.

Sarah's Food: Nice to meet you.

Munch!

Anna: Hand, meet Sarah's mouth.

Anna's Hand: Nice to meet you.

Whap!

I Wasn't Going to Blog This. . .

A few weeks ago, Jonah was pretending to be my husband in the church nursery. His portrayal of Jason seemed a little misogynous to me, so out of respect for Jason, I didn't post it. It went something like this:

Jonah: I'm going to work, now, Becky. I need food for work. Make me some food!

And later. . .

Jonah: I want cookies. Becky, make me cookies!

I was a little puzzled as to where he got that idea.

Then I got a phone call this afternoon. It was Jason, calling from work.

Jason: When I get home, can you make me some cookies? I really want some cookies.

Me: You called me from work to ask for cookies?

That explains a lot.

Math, Math, Everywhere

We took a box of doughnuts with us in the van today, on the way to the pumpkin patch.

Sarah: How many doughnuts are left?

Me: Well, we had twelve, and we ate nine. So how many are left?

Sarah: Three.

Anna: Hey, if we break them in half, each of us can have one half.

Jason: You're teaching them fractions?

Me: No.

Walk in the Woods

Sheesh

Naiah brought me a picture of a sheep.

Me: That's a sheep. Sheep. Baa.

Naiah: Peesh.

Me: Sheep. Baa.

Naiah: Peesh.

Me: Sheep.

Naiah: Baa.

Manhood

Jonah: Mommy, you be the queen, and I'll be the king.

Me: Okay. How are you today, my king?

Jonah: I'm a mean pig.

Mighty Mouse

Girly Math

Anna: Six plus four is. . . ten. Ooh, I'm going to make a tiny ten.

Sarah: I made a tiny ten. Look!

Anna: Oooh, it's so cute! I want a cute ten! . . . Look! See my cute ten?

Sarah: Oh, it's so little and cute! Is mine smaller, or is yours?

Anna: Um. . . I think mine's smaller. But they're both cute!

Sarah: I'm going to make mine smaller. Oh, it's going to be so cute!

Darn That Commutative Property

Sarah was working on addition problems in her math book.

"Three plus four," she said out loud, "equals. . . seven." She carefully printed a seven in the blank, and moved on to the next problem. "Four plus three equals-- WHAT?! I just did that!"

A Mystery in Wood

Once upon a time, there was a pile of wood, hauled and split by a city boy with a day job. The pile of wood sat in the open air, happy and dry, until rain came. Then the city boy decided to stack the wood in a shed.

When he went outside, he found that the wood pile had doubled in size. Fresh rounds sat quietly with the split wood. "That's strange," said the city boy. He stacked the split wood and went inside.

The next day, the city boy thought he might split some of the new wood. But when he went outside, he found that the wood pile had doubled in size, again. . .

I suspect the neighbors.

Heading Into Town

My camera is a better photographer than I am, but it was such a pretty day. I had to try.

Crazy Days

Well, we're more than two months from Christmas, and already racing. I was beginning to get used to the slow pace up here, and now it's going SoCal on us.

On Saturday, our worship band led the music for a group of pastors and lay leaders from all over our region, at an all-day meeting near the lake. We discovered when we arrived that they weren't exactly expecting a band. The schedule named our pastor and his wife for all the music. I think they were hoping for some mellow duets. Well. . .

We caught a few complaints about hearing aids and the like from some of the old-guard Southern Baptists, but for the most part, they seemed okay with it. I think they tolerated us because we're so young and clueless.

Nobody made a fuss about Pastor Jason's new tattoo either. It helps that he's a church planter. He's allowed to be edgier.

Then we gathered up our kids from an exhausted Jenn (who managed her three and our four in two tiny rooms ALL DAY), and headed home to get ready for the youth service, which was suddenly happening at our house.

The sign on our front door.

Two hours later, thirty kids were packed into our living room. It was SO fun. I kept laughing at how absurd it all was. Adam came over and we led worship on the floor with the two guitars. I've never heard those kids really sing before. Some of them were GOOD. Then they scattered all over the house and the basement and the yard, learning how to spend time alone with God. This was so not what I expected from a life in missions, but I love it.

And yesterday was, of course, the normal Sunday craziness, plus a little extra. (After everyone had left from the youth lunch, one of the teenage girls walked into my house and caught me talking on the phone with my mother-in-law. . . in a towel. A small one. Oh, and how long has it been since I shaved my legs? Not a clue. Why was I not mortified by this? Because I am so ridiculously type B, I have no sense of shame. And now you know.)

Sugar

Anna: Can I have some more marshmallow cereal, please?

Me: No, but you can have some Kix.

Anna: Why?

Me: Because the marshmallows have too much sugar.

Anna: Oh. I like sugar.

Nice Try

"Ha! You're funny, Mommy. Ha. Ha. . . "

-- Jonah, age 3, as soon as he suspects he's in trouble

Oh, no, no. . .

"I gotta go potty!"

-- Naiah, 15 months

A Disney Drama

A Disney Drama

The Cast:
Jonah, age 3, as Mickey
Anna, age 5, as Minnie
Sarah, age 5, as Dash

Dash: I love you, Minnie.

Dash kisses Minnie on the nose.

Minnie: Ugh!

Dash: I want to marry you!

Minnie: I'm not gonna marry you. I'm gonna marry Mickey!

Dash kisses Minnie. Minnie kisses Mickey. Dash hits Mickey.

Mickey: Hi! I'm Mickey.

Dash: I'm going to marry Minnie.

Mickey: Okay.

Dash kisses Minnie.

Minnie: Eeeek!

Minnie runs away. She falls in Mickey's arms.

Minnie: I don't want to marry Dash! I want to marry you, Mickey!

Mickey: Uh. . . You're a girl. I can marry you.

Dash: Noooooooo!

The End

Bush Dweller

This is the infamous lilac bush. Along with the infamous squirrel.
Oh, yeah. He's in there.
These were taken today.

Timber

So the menfolk are out to destroy things today, namely trees. They're taking their trucks and chainsaws and flannelwear out to the woods for a day of manliness.

Oh, how far we have come from the Ojai environmental clubs. ("Keep the Sespe Wild!") The hillbillies are sucking us into their nefarious, tree-felling ways.

As long as I don't have to see another $400 propane bill, kill them. Kill them all. (Except the pretty fir ones. Ooh, and the poplars.)

Hot Lips

This afternoon, I was stoking the fire in the stove, when Anna came up behind me.

"Whoa," she said. "That's a big one!"

"Yeah," I said. "It's pretty."

"Yeah. But I think it will burn my lips off."

Indignant

"HEY!"

--Naiah, 15 months
When I left her strapped in her car seat to unload a few grocery bags.

The Beast

Our new (to us) woodstove.

We have fire! In a big, fat stove! Electricity-free! No more propane! Cheap fuel! Unless you count all the trekking and cutting and mauling and stacking. But still.

It's nice to know that if we get buried under twenty feet of snow (Oh, yes, it's been known to happen.), we won't freeze or starve to death. Merry Christmas. It could snow tomorrow.

Block Party!

The Photos

The Highlights

Loads of high schoolers stopping in for burgers, on their way to homecoming.

Welcoming new families, who were totally new to church and a little scared of us, at first.

Junior highers dancing and running around.

Way too much dinner; not enough cookies. (We had 200 of them!)

Great music with old friends.

Talking to passersby, who kept stopping in the street to watch.

Jenn going to town on the bass.

Meeting the friends I keep hearing about at Girls Only nights.

I can't wait to see what God makes of all this.

Grown-Up

On Being a Grown-Up

By Anna and Sarah, age 5

Anna: Mommy, you're a grown-up.

Me: I am?

Anna: Yes! You do the laundry. . . You make food for us. . .

Sarah: You make cookies!

Anna: You read us stories. . . You cook on the stove. . .

Sarah: You make pam-cakes!

Anna: You cook on the oven. . . You do the dishes. . . You make breakfast. . . You buy some stuff. . .

Me: What if I don't want to be a grown-up?

Sarah: You hold kids! You can make us food! You can teach Jonah how to play the guitar!

Anna: You get to do all kinds of stuff like reading books, and holding babies. Besides, who would take care of us?