The Monster vs. The Beast

The other night, we were straightening the living room together. Jonah, ever the master decorator, neatly lined up four of his monster trucks on the woodstove. By the time we noticed, it was too late.

May they rest in peace.

Frosty the First

He had an icicle nose and leafy eyes, but Jonah ate them. Well, just the nose, really. I don't think he ate the leaves. I hope not, anyway.

A Christmas Story

The kids have been obsessing over the movie A Christmas Story, otherwise known as, "You'll shoot your eye out, kid!"

Bet you can't guess what they want for Christmas now. (Or maybe you can.)

Anna wants a pink one. Sarah wants a rainbow one. Jonah wants a blue one.

What have I done?

Princess Lib

Anna: We're the princesses, and Jonah's the bad guy! And he's going to take us away! But the prince will save us!

Sarah: What? NO! We can do that ourselves!

Leftovers, Hong Kong Style

Do you know what my husband did with our turkey last night?

He pulverized it in the food processor with fresh ginger and garlic and scallions.

Then he folded it elegantly into wanton wrappers and made a glorious wanton soup.

Mind you, we never once saw a turkey the entire time we lived in China, or anywhere else in Southeast Asia.

But if there were turkey, this is what they would do with it.

Sometimes that guy actually lives up to his IQ.

And Also a Link

Same guys as below, minus the singing. (Thank goodness.) There are four of these.

The Title of the Song

I'm too sick to blog. [hack] [cough] [phlegm] [owie]

So, in honor of Monty Python, now for something completely different.

The essence of the boy-band love song. Enjoy.

Happy Thanksgiving!

Happy Day:

Woke up to a crisp layer of snow and ice, and plenty of sunshine.

Donned my boots and gloves, and pulled the red wagon over to the church to decorate tables for dinner. (Four long tables, at least 21 place settings, lots of fall leaves strewn about.)

Returned home to start the turkey and stuffing.

Made/Making fresh cranberry-orange sauce, sweet potato casserole, yeast rolls, green bean casserole, pan gravy, mashed potatoes, fresh pumpkin pies.

Spending all day in the kitchen, while Jason watches the kids, is like a vacation for me.
I just realized I've been cooking all day long in my snow boots.

Bleh

I'm sick.

I wish I weren't sick. I wish I were cleaning my upside-down house and pre-cooking for Thanksgiving.

But I'm sick.

In other news, Jason and I have been reading through Christopher Paolini's best-seller, Eragon. I was reluctant to try it, mostly because the title seemed too clever for its own good, also because I'm not a big fan of the fantasy genre.

I changed my mind because. . .

1. A few friends recommended it.
2. I need to learn new plotting techniques. (Juvenile Fantasy is very plot-driven.)
3. I'm impatient for Jo Rowling (the Plot Master--Have you seen her mapping method?) to finish the last Harry Potter book.

The first few Eragon chapters were infested with modifiers and similes. I caught myself cringing and laughing way too often. Then I learned that Paolini wrote it as a teenager, so I quit picking on him and envied him for doing what I only dreamed of doing in high school.

It's a decent story, so far, if you can overlook the (at times) overblown imagery and excessive adjectives. Hopefully, he'll outgrow the dramatics by the next installment.

When Mommy's Away

Anna, Sarah, and Jonah were playing house today.

Anna: Okay, Baby, I'm going to leave the house. I'm not going to stay home.

Baby Sarah: [whine] [whimper]

Anna: Don't worry, Baby. Your daddy will stay here and take care of you.

Baby Sarah: [whine]

Anna: Jonah, you take care of our baby. I'm leaving.

Jonah: (in his manly voice) Okay. (Jonah tackles the baby.)

Baby Sarah: EEeeeeek!

Jonah: (pinning her) I'm taking care of you.

Baby Sarah: EEEEEEEEeeek!

Jonah: I'm taking care of you!

Anna: Just watch over her!

Jonah: I am.

That's My Brother!

My brother, John, does amazing things with a guitar. You should hear him rock out, or better yet, lead worship.

He just left an up-and-coming band, called Aventine, because he didn't want to leave his wife and baby for a whole year to go on tour. So now he's back to his acoustic and a few digital toys and writing.

Be sure to listen to "Father Son Time" and "Midnight Drive."

And, by the way, John, I want a cd for Christmas.

Premium Wage

Jonah (three years old) handed Jason a nickel.

"This is for your work," he said.

Narcissism

Moppets Teacher: Anna, what are you thankful for?

Anna: Me.

Lament

I have a lot of sisters.

Jonah, age 3

Surprise!

Naiah was nursing under my bedcovers this morning. Suddenly she popped up and said, "Ta-prise!"

Snow

These are from the first snowfall of the season, last Saturday morning. It was Naiah's first frolic in the white stuff. The lighting was terrible, but I did my motherly best.

The shed and the lilac.

First snowy steps.


Taste test.


Charge!
(And in the background, Jonah gets creamed.)

A Long Trip Home

• Why does weather.com say "rain" when it always snows?
• Why can't they see that the storm is hitting tonight, not tomorrow?
• Why are the highway markings painted white?
• Why does snow dump on one side of the hill and dust on the other?
• Why are my "all-weather" tires worthless in snow?
• Why can't they put up more of those reflector poles along the roadside, especially at crucial intersections?
• Why can't my husband be home when I'm calling him from a snowbound parking lot in the middle of nowhere?
• WHY?

Edit: I shouldn't leave it that way. God answered my calls tonight. Just when I thought we would have to sit tight and wait for help, the snow let up enough for me to see my way home. Thank you, God.

PETA's Smallest Enemies

Anna: Where does chicken meat come from?

Me: From chickens.

Anna: The animal chicken or the meat chicken?

Me: It's the same thing. They kill the chicken, and pull off its feathers, and cut off its head and feet, and then we buy it and cook it and eat it.

Jonah: I'm going to eat a cow! I kill the cow! Then I cook the cow! Then I eat the cow, and it YELLS in my mouth!

Me: Is the cow sad because you're eating it?

Jonah: Yes! And it yells in the field, because I shoot it with a gun! Pow! Pow!

Me: Well, I don't think they shoot it with a gun. I think they break its head with a hammer.

Anna: Pow! I shot a chicken.

Me: They don't shoot chickens either, honey.

Anna: Oh. . . Come here, little chicken! Come here! I won't hurt you. I just want to pet you. There you go. . . CUT! CUT! CUT!. . . I cut off his head and his legs and his feathers! Now I'm going to eat him-- Yum, yum, yum, yum. . .

Grow Up Already!

Jonah: Mommy, I need to grow up.

Me: I know. (sigh)

Jonah: But I don't want to grow up in a trash can.

Me: Okay. . . (The house isn't that bad.)

Jonah: I want to grow up in the potty.

Me: Um. . . Do you mean throw up?

Jonah: Yes! I need to grow up in the potty.

Sex and the Knowledge of God

I've been thinking/reading a lot about sex lately. This is partly due to the fact that it is a subject which interests me (my mother is blushing right now), but it is also because it is a subject which (to put it mildly) interests the adolescent girls who hang out at my house and our church.

These girls have no clue why they should wait till their thirteenth birthday, let alone marriage, to jump into a sexual relationship with the next guy who happens along. The fact that the Bible warns against it makes no difference to them. They have no cultural memory of morality or Christianity or respect for the Bible. They are, however, attracted to Scripture, because God is drawing them in, and because we love them for no good reason, other than that we believe the Bible and its testimony about Christ.

So when we first introduced them to God's intentions for sex and purity, they balked. A hundred episodes of Friends, Sex and the City, countless movies, and dubious accounts from friends and parents all stood staunchly opposed to what we showed them in Scripture.

They thought God was holding out on them.

So I've been reading. I wanted a quick fix-- some promise, reward, some darn good reason to tide them over until they grew into Christ enough to obey out of love. But more than that, I wanted a solid understanding of God's purpose in making sex the way He made it-- exclusive, emotional, thrilling, spiritual. I wanted to understand why it has power to enslave and destroy; so that when they asked me, I could tell them exactly what was at stake.

I read lots of Scripture and sermons, mostly from Piper, but also from several Desiring God conference speakers. This one put it all together. This was the central understanding I was looking for. From here, the how's and why's fall into place. Thank God.

Ah, Peace and Quiet

Spotted on a minivan bumper:

Silence is golden, but duct tape is silver.

Eccentricity

Last night, we were driving the van home from a neighboring town. The girls were strapped into their carseats, Sarah in front of Anna.

Sarah: Hey, Sissy! Let's play hide and seek!

Anna: Okay! You count.

Sarah: One, two, three, four, five, six, seven, eight, nine, ten. Ready or not, here I come!

Anna: No! I'm not ready yet! Count again.

Sarah: Okay. One, two, three. . . Ready or not, here I come!

Turns in her seat to look.

Sarah: I found you!

Anna: Oh, man! Okay, I'll count. One, two, three. . . Ready or not, here I come!

Leans forward, searching.

Anna: Where are you?

Giggles from Sarah's seat.

Anna: Oh, I see you!

Sarah: Oh, man! You always find me! Okay, I'll count. . .

Church Casual

The style of dress at our church is a kind of mountain grunge. Pastor Jason looks like a scary biker; Adam (ex-military, drummer) always looks like he's ready for a fight; and my Jason usually dresses like an overgrown college kid. It's not that we weren't raised right; it's just that we've come to appreciate the value of being cultural chameleons when presenting the Gospel in new territory.

So this morning, my husband was rummaging through the dresser and the closet, trying to find an appropriate shirt to wear with his holey jeans and tattered baseball cap. Because I'm so behind on laundry, he couldn't find anything that passed the sniff test. (Oh, yes, it's that bad.)

All he could find was a crisp, white dress shirt, neatly hung in the closet. He put it on.

Jason: Does this look okay?

Me: It's kind of weird.

He rolled up the sleeves, revealing the long-sleeved t-shirt cuffs beneath.

Jason: How about now?

Me: I don't know. I kind of like it.

Jason: Yeah, but Jason and Adam are going to be like, "Dude, you're wearing a button-up shirt!" . . . I guess I'll just tell them it was the only thing that was clean.

He added a stained barn jacket.

Jason: Now it's kind of cowboy.

Me: That works.

Dream On

Jonah: I have to go potty!

Me: Okay, go potty.

Jonah: No, I have to go potty at Disneyland.