The highlight of the game

Tennessee Temple University has an athletic department--they even have girls' volleyball. Chris and I took the kids to the game tonight, somewhat hesitantly because as bedtime approaches, the kids become more easily irritable and less able to obey the rules. Can you imagine the embarrassment of the poor mother of the child who runs out onto the court during play? It's not rec-ball, folks, it's college-level! (Interesting fact: Christian colleges have their own division of sports: NCCAA. I'm guessing it's NOT a notch above NCAA. Just a thought. =)

So, the twins spent the evening content to watch the game bouncing on our laps. Fabulous! They, of course, were the ones I envisioned shooting out into the court before I found a free hand to stop them dead in their tracks. The older three, however, found complete bliss in climbing under and clambering over the bleachers, as well as tormenting the hideous and somewhat rag-tag would-be mascot who appeared during the second game.

Tennessee Temple Crusaders... or Cavaliers? Either way, it is most definitely not a wolf. This wolf had an enormous head with huge, yellowed, enameled teeth. They were awesome. If I were not a mother of small children who have nightmares, I would really love those teeth. Kora thought it would be really cool to jump up and nail Wolfie on his head a billion times until the head fell off. I think she succeeded once. I was doing my best to bounce Tyler on my knee, look occupied, and ignore the situation. Meanwhile, David got it on his mind that Wolfie needed to show his true colors, so he pantsed him.

That's right, my children were simultaneously beheading and exposing the sort-of mascot of a Christian university.

Chris and I could no longer live in the land of the apathetic. Action had to be taken. Chris chose to confront the situation head-on. (Pun intended.) Wolfie was put back together, our children were chastised and instructed on proper college-level girls' volleyball etiquette, and we went about our merry way.

I am sad to say the girls lost, but truth be told, who could watch the game when the entertainment stole the show?

What Saja wants to be

Today, Saja told me what she wanted to be when she grows up: an art-girl. I asked, "Do you mean, an artist?" She said, "Yes, I want to sell my painting and get money for them."

Hmmm... I think this is one of those occupations that really builds your faith in God with regards to regular income.

But I like art. If my daughter can decorate my walls for free with her uber-fabulous art, I am ALL FOR IT.

Birthdays, by David

Our children have no problem talking to strangers. They do it all the time, they do it well, and they do it extensively. I overheard Saja today telling a grown man how best to potty-train his 2-year-old. "I know," she said, "because my twins are potty-training."

The other day, someone came to visit, and they asked David how old he was. Instead of the standard answer, "Three {or 'free' as the case may be]," accompanied by the appropriate amount of fingers, David said, "On my next birthday, I'll be four... and on my next birthday, I'll be five... and on my next birthday, I'll be six..." By this time, we smiled and tuned him out. Faintly, in the background, I heard, "And on my next birthday, I'll be seven." I thought, Shees, this could go on forever!

To my surprise, his next words were, "And on my next birthday, I'll be forty."

And that was the end of it.

Living in Highland Park

I started a new blog to journal our Chattanooga Adventures:

LivingInHighlandPark.blogspot.com

I hate to double-post, so I won't. You just have to go read it yourself.

No Coincidences

This story starts 18 years and 11 months ago, when Chris' mother discovered she was pregnant with her fourth child. Chris was 14 when Josh was born.

Chris graduated seminary this year and felt led to follow Dr. Jim O'Neill for a year in preparation for our missions. Dr. Jim O'Neill felt God lead him to leave Philadelphia to work in Chattanooga. For that reason, we live in Chattanooga.

...which happens to be merely 2 hours away from the Braves, who are playing the Phillies, of all teams, tonight in Atlanta. Chris and Dr. O'Neill and his daughter bought tickets this week for the Sunday night game.

Josh graduated high school this year, and chose to attend UT at Knoxville. Freshmen were allowed to move in this weekend, but if they wanted to bring a car, it cost $250/semester, so Josh chose to leave his car at home. So, his parents graciously took him to Knoxville, (and then took him to Walmart to buy stuff he left at home!), and then decided to come visit us, a mere 2 hours away. They planned to stay one night and leave early Sunday morning before church to head back to Memphis.

After they arrived, we received word that Chris' grandmother was admitted to St. Joseph's hospital in Atlanta for heart surgery. She has an atrial valve that apparently has needed replacing for many months, but caused such ill health last night that Grandma had to be admitted.

Chris offered to take his mother with him to Atlanta so she could be with her mother.

So she stayed and attended church with us at Highland Park Baptist Church.

Our associate pastor stopped us before the service and said he just met another family from Bellevue who just moved to our neighborhood to go to UTC. We actually found them and sat with them throughout the service, but Chris' mom and dad didn't sit with us, because they arrived later than we did.

After the service, Chris' mom came to see us, and when our new friend from Bellevue turned around, they realized they knew each other. Chris' mom had been her Sunday School teacher!

Our new friends spent a good portion of the day with us, and we're both thankful for the fast friendship formed from our common denominators, having both just moved here as young mothers. Do you see how many facts had to fall into place at just the right time to work out the way it did?

The longer I live, the more I see God's hand in every aspect and every decision of my life. I like it. It makes me feel loved to know I'm that important to him.

Healthy Eating Habits, by Kora

Today, I treated my family to dried blueberries covered in dark chocolate--a very healthy treat loaded with anti-oxidants and stress-relieving elements. Of course, my children gobbled them down. Saja innocently asked, "May I have more to go give Daddy some?" She really meant that. Some children (ahem, Kora) are devious enough to ask that question and then eat the extra pieces themselves!

As they were eating them, I said, "Isn't this yummy? It's a very healthy snack."

Kora, now 4 years old, replied, "It's healthy??! It doesn't taste so healthy!"

Shining the [brass] sink

FlyLady.net has a great program to get overwhelmed housecleaners (aka "Moms") back into the groove. I feel blessed to have conquered the clutter issue when we packed up to move. It hasn't crept back into my life yet! We do have a few "hot spots" where clutter tends to collect, but we've been wary of bringing clutter back into our lives.

What we do have, however, is a house that was not clean when we moved in. Our bathroom sink looks mottled, like a cheetah, from the toothpaste water spots left on it. It tarnishes. Seriously. Who the heck needs a SINK that tarnishes?! I don't keep anything in the house if it requires me to polish it. I don't care how wealthy it will make me--if I have to polish it, keep it OUT of my house. Oh, except the stinkin' bathroom sink. I kind of need one of those.

So, I googled it. A quarter-cup salt, half-cup vinegar, half-cup flour to make a paste. Rub on sink, water-spots disappear. Note to self: If any toothpaste or shaving cream happens to be hanging out, rinse it off first. Somehow, a certain spot started off as green toothpaste, and after the vinegar treatment, ended up as an unremovable red streak. The sink still looked a bit dark, so I applied a thin layer of toothpaste and, gasp, polished. The tarnish came completely off, and now the sink looks like the brushed brass it was intended to be.

Chris walked in and said, "Boy, I bet the faucet could look like that too." Sigh. Twenty minutes later, the faucet and the sink BOTH blind you as you walk into the bathroom. It's not maintainable. We'll see what happens in a week!

I took the same paste treatment to the kitchen sink to attack the water spots staining the stainless steel sink. I rubbed and rubbed, ignoring the offensive attack on my nose. I rinsed and rinsed, just as I had previously done in the bathroom. Do you know it did not-a-lick-of-good?

That's when I pulled up FlyLady.net. She sure knows how to shine a sink. I have, however, in my dedication to declutter, pitched the bleach. So I cannot shine the sink.

Oh, well, there's always tomorrow.

And if there's not tomorrow, I'll be in Heaven, where no one will need to polish anything to be blinded by its beauty.