classic addie

This morning, on my way to Bible study, road construction forced me to merge into the left lane. I put on my blinker and expected the car in my blind spot to slow and let me in. Instead, the driver accelerated so abruptly that it was clear to me she had no intention of such a courtesy. In fact, I was surprised to see that her plates weren't from California. The truck behind her graciously let me merge. I waved to him, then made eye contact with the woman who was now immediately in front of me, via her rear view mirror.

Very matter-of-fact, I calmly told her she was a bitch and flipped her off. To her credit, she did not respond in kind.

As we sat there, stopped at the light, I was hit with a wave of contrition. I had just sinned against someone in a fit of pique, and I would have no chance to make it right. I could confess to God and ask forgiveness, but as soon as the light changed, I would have no chance to do the same with this stranger. I thought about hopping out, tapping her window, and quickly apologizing, but decided against it. She might have thought I was insane or violent, and it could have made the problem worse. I sadly reflected on my terrible witness of God's love on the way to Bible study, for crying out loud, and why "casual" sins made in passing can be so harmful, with no chance for redemption with the offended.

We proceeded through the light, and I watched her turn into the parking lot where Bible Study Fellowship is held. My face turned bright red as we drove past one another in the parking lot. I was walking down the hall, telling my friend Jill the story, when I saw her: the driver in green. Approaching me.

I veered off and stopped right in front of her.

"I owe you an apology."

"I owe YOU an apology! I was totally not paying attention!"

"That's not really sinning against me, though, whereas I had a temper tantrum that was totally uncalled for. Can you please forgive me? I'm mortified."

"Of course. And I'm sorry that I didn't see you."

"When I saw you turn into the lot, I was really glad I would have the chance to apologize, but I was really embarrassed, because of COURSE I was headed to the same Bible study as a woman I had just flipped the bird."

Later, I finished telling Jill about my morning, concluding that God is both gracious to let me confess and seek forgiveness as well as a bit ornery to let me learn my lesson in such a pointed way, and she laughed and laughed. "Oh! I have to tell my husband. That is such a classic Addie story!"

And that is why I do not have an icthus (Christian fish) on my car. The end.

fancy found her voice

Bethany claims these are Vesper's vocal warm-ups. I just held the camera up until she ignored both it and me and started singing again, despite not having cleaned her up after dinner (there were blueberries involved, which she loves). She's gotten a lot more verbal lately, and will even cry briefly in protest when she's put down for a nap. Just like a normal child.

procrastinating

Because I have a pile of things looming that I don't want to deal with right now, I'm blogging instead. Tomorrow (maybe even later tonight!), I will bemoan my choices and wish vainly for more hours in my day and more sleep in my nights. What can I say? It's how I roll.

How Blake rolls. "This is a 2X3 Destroying Machine. This buggy is very powerful and can destroy a building with one missile and one bullet. Say that, Mom."

"Okay."

V and T. T's fiance lived with us for the last five weeks and just moved out today. While Blake is glad to get the armory back, Rob and I are a little sad we didn't have more game nights. Guess they'll have to host US in the new apartment! (Terra, that is a hint. I'm not sure how clear I have to be...)

Blake and Gunnar wanted to play video games, so I negotiated. Blake LOVES shoveling, and hurried outside to complete his chores. Gunnar looked at me like I was joking.

I was not. But Blake was pretty fast, so I think Gunnar only had to do the porch and steps.

Warning: if we have you over for dinner, we'll try VERY hard to rope you into playing Just Dance 4 with us. Pictures are usually verboten (as my friend Jared put it, "What happens at Addie's stays at Addie's"), but Blake, Joel, and Kale were too stinkin' cute to resist.

Speaking of stinkin' cute, this bugger hit seven months in January!

I'm already trying to figure out what to put her in for her 8-month photo.

She's about to sprout two teeth on the bottom, likes to scratch things (my desk and couch both have damage from nails that were a fraction of a millimeter in length), and seems to be happiest when diaper-free.

She's still remarkably uninterested in rolling over or being on her stomach, the lazy little bean. One of these days she's going to figure out she's mobile-ish, but until then, it's awfully convenient to find her right where I last left her.

eight's going to be great

I interviewed Blake this morning over cereal. Apologies for the sound quality: the heat was blowing and the humidifier was on high, plus Blake's not as close to the mic as I am. Still, he's a sweetheart.

we have a room we call the armory

Look at this beautiful raptor on my neighbor's house!

I don't know what it is. But I love it. I wish he would come say hi to me, because I would buy live mice just to feed him. We have a bunch of varied raptors around, because we're still in the middle of a field and the hunting's good. I need to get better at identifying them, but they need to get better at holding still longer first.

Reese needed a place to stash Mason for a few hours. I don't remember why. I told them to cuddle up and they could watch some America's Funniest Home Videos. I remember watching that when I was quite small, and you know what?

People hurting (but mostly embarrassing) themselves never ceases to be funny. Also comic gold?

Babies.

Like this one. Rob does not approve of this bib, even though I told him I had no intention of buying others. Blake needed a CRAP TON of bibs when he was small because if it wasn't copious drool, it was copious spit-up. The kid was always giving back...

Which means I have a few bibs that make Vesper look like she's already on the prowl.

Rob still does not approve.

We hosted the Perrines overnight just after Christmas! Audrey, on the left, is now one (not in this picture, but now, as of 1/25) year old! Gunner, in Lane's arms, will be one on 2/12. It is crazy how quickly time flies. Also, that urn of corks in the background? The dust on the rim is striped with tiny finger streaks because Audrey wanted to explore. After about the third time of rescuing the baby from the decor (or the decor from the baby), Lane said, "You know you have one of these too, right? You'll be moving this eventually?"

Hmm. Maybe. Or maybe MY baby will be so used to it she ignores it. I'm terrible at baby-proofing, mostly because I am very lazy (one might also make a case for me being a lush, because those corks represent a lot of consumed wine!). And I want my children to know that you don't play in the knife drawer no matter WHERE you are. But mostly I'm lazy.

I don't know what they were watching, but none of them look very pleased. Well, to be fair, Matt usually looks like that.

The Schuylers gave the Perrine boys marshmallow shooters for Christmas. I am STILL finding mini marshmallow nuggets in the most random places, because Blake got one too. When I find them, I throw them away. When Blake finds them, he works on loosening even more teeth by eating them.

So, I'm serious about having a room we call the armory. When we refer to it with guests, it's simply the guest room. When we instruct boys on how to clean up, we tell them to put all the weapons back in the armory. I'd say we're the most well-protected house on the block, but these boys play fast and loose with what's considered a target.

My clock, for example, with the suction cup Nerf darts.

Or... me.

JUST after I snapped this, Mason let fire with both barrels of the orange shotgun you see on the right.

I took two to the chest.

But I have to say, that is the risk I run with nephews that I've essentially armed to the teeth.

snowy days

We hosted a few of the Bedfords after Christmas, and Auntie Bip's Christmas present to Blake included some time on the sledding hill. It was packed and mostly ice, but that just made it WAY MORE FUN. Except the first run. The first run, Blake was eager to go by himself, and I watched from the bottom while his smile quickly morphed into a rictus of fear. With no knowledge of how to slow or control his sled, he very nearly ran into a utility box well off the main course of the hill.

Now, I love that boy dearly, which is why I can say this confidently: he is not a particularly tough kid. He can be very brave, yes, and he has his moments of toughness, true, but overall, he can be a bit delicate. The scare of an uncontrolled whip down the hill and near-collision left him teary and shaken, so he had me, Rob, or Bethany on the sled with him for the remainder of our time, and he still ended up in tears at least once more after a tipped sled incident. The fun of such things usually outweighs the fear, though, and he kept on going. It was a beautiful bluebird day, and Rob and I agreed that we need more and bigger sleds.

My fellas, on the right. I'm on the hill, climbing it as well, but it's a steep one, pocked with kicked-in treads that are not very stable. Or grippy. Or big.

The punkin. His new glasses have lenses that transition into sunglasses, and he LUUUUUUHVES them. He originally wanted to try to reach the lake you see in the background, but got more and more anxious about such a possibility as time went by.

Auntie Bip, always a great sport about having fun with nieces and nephews! In Blake's opinion, childless aunties are kind of a big deal: none of their own bebes to interfere with their loving devotion of him. He makes outrageous requests of Aunt Ernie and Aunt Bethany that he wouldn't dream of posing to my own sisters.

Thing is, they are usually all too happy to oblige him!

They are coming straight for me. Perhaps I'd better move...?

With a 3.5-year-old in their house, Joyce hasn't been able to do many puzzles lately. She helped finish one I'd started and got a good start on a second! About an hour before this pic was snapped, Cec was headed for bed, then stood and placed a few pieces, then knelt to get a better view, and finally quietly just got his own chair. I'll now be their puzzle haven, at least until my little one begins interfering with such things.

I had at least two puzzles where I know that I know that I know that Blake took pieces and hid them or threw them away when he was very small, simply because he was too small to help, and I told him so. Sneaky little bugger...

Poppa and VeeBee. He got her attention by clucking his tongue at her, and she now repeats the trick! She's gotten rather good at it, though another trick she pulls is getting Rob and I to cluck at her repeatedly to encourage her to start... while she just looks at us, bemused. Sneaky little bugger...

sweeter than sweet

This morning, I heard a knock on the bathroom door as I was showering. "It'll have to wait!" I said loudly, and I finished my shower and began my morning preparations. Over half an hour later, I came out and did not see Blake in the kitchen, dining room, living room. The light in his room was off, but I heard Vesper's half-whine, half-chat coming clearly from her room.

Blake had been knocking to tell me that Vesper was awake. When I didn't appear right away, he dragged the rocker in her room over to her crib, tugged her as close to the side nearest him as possible, and began reading her stories to soothe her. He did not stop to come get me again, because he said she'd start to cry even harder. I kissed his head and told him how proud I am of him, and what a great big brother he is to our little VeeBee.

*****
We began vision therapy for Blake last week, in efforts to correct his inward-turning eye and the difficulty he has focusing on things near him with both eyes (shorthand: we're working on the turning, the focus, and the tracking of his eyes). The homework involves time wearing his eye patch, and as I sat across the table from him last night, Vesper on my lap, he pulled his patch on.

Vesper let out a peal of giggles.

Blake giggled back.

The room filled with joyful noise as we all laughed, delightedly, at one another. "Homework is going to be fun if she does that every day!" Blake said cheerfully, as he turned to his first exercise.

I sure hope so.

dog-less

I have failed to mention here that our time as dog owners was short-lived. That yellow lab on my nightstand in the post below is the only dog we'll have for a good long while.

We wanted to do so well by Thrall. We had him groomed (matted hair in 90+ degree weather had to be miserable), we played with him, we wanted him to be well-behaved. Unfortunately, he was not well-behaved. He was aggressive to other dogs and barked A LOT. He ignored us if he was off-leash and alarmed folks walking by with his not-quite-friendly approach. I'd let him out to run and play for a solid 15 minutes (he helped me nab two rodents in the backyard, in fact), then find that he'd poop in his kennel not five minutes after being put back inside. All of this was frustrating, but not overly alarming... until he displayed food-related aggression towards both me and Rob, and he bit my hand. It was a warning bite, he was very stressed, and he did not break the skin (he could have hurt me badly had that been his intent)... but there it was.

We wanted to work more with him, but it was quickly clear that he did not see me as dominant, and I had a newborn in the house. I couldn't give a dog the time needed to break those bad habits when my time was so thoroughly occupied elsewhere. While I didn't think Thrall was necessarily dangerous or bad, he was unpredictable, and with all the kiddos we have running around here regularly, unpredictable equals dangerous. We called Rob's family, who had left their fence and kennel up, just in case things didn't work out.

So, Thrall is back in Washington. I feel badly that we couldn't do what we'd set out to do for Thrall. I think he'd be a great ranch dog. But... he seemed happy the last time we were out there, and I know that they love him. I'm not afraid our pet is going to snap at my children, nephews, or pretty face. And one of these days, when we have the time to dedicate to it, we'll get another dog. It might be years, which Rob reluctantly agreed to. I did hold out some hope for him, though: if we get a puppy, I will probably cave on my "outdoor dogs only" rule, because I might be coldly rational about many things, but tiny, wee, sad-eyed puppies are not included in that list.

Well...

not always.

I did already write about the time Rob brought a puppy home to the condo, eyes filled with such innocent hope that I couldn't help laughing in disbelief, before I squashed that idea and made him take it back.

that's what he said

First of all, I want to reiterate what she said. All of it. Except the part where Reese confesses to being a fire-breathing dragon, because honestly, I never see that. I have singed all our children (hers, too) with my own temper, and I regularly admire her aloud for her seemingly endless patience and kindness to her children. She is probably just being transparent for me, but all the stuff she says about our sweet Momica? Yep. True. In fact, I feel badly for Lane, even though I know she loves Coeur d'Alene, because she's that much farther from the help that Reese and I get to count on.

And on we go...

*****
Blake handed me a small photo card of a yellow Lab, which indicated (on the back) it was something American Girl produced. I have no idea where he got it, but he brought it home from school. He probably stole it from a little girl.

B: This is for you, Mom.
A: Thank you! What do you think I should do with it?
B: Hmm. I think you should put it on the wall in your bedroom. Next to your light.
A: Well, it would be pretty lonely. I don't have ANYTHING on the walls in the bedroom. Where else could I put it?
B: How about I put it on your nightstand, next to your alarm clock? Then you can look at it before you go to bed and when you get up.
A: Um, ok.

That conversation was at least two months ago. I took this photo two minutes ago:

*****
B: (immediately after finishing dinner) Done! I don't want dessert tonight. I'm too full.
A: (stunned) Wha-???
B: (arms thrown wide, sly grin) Well, you don't ALWAYS get dessert, it's a special treat!

He then scampered off and hid because I was coming to get him, still amazed that my sugar-loving kid drew a healthy boundary for himself, and that he used a perfect blend of cheek in his humor and defense. I love that boy.

*****
B: Mom, can I take a picture?
A: Sure. Here's the button you push.

 Hi, Vesper!

 Mom, look what I did to Vesper's rabbit!

He's just chillin'...

Say "cheese," Mom!

just another baby pic

We had friends over for a meal just before Christmas, and I was reminded anew of how blessed I am to have gotten to work for and with them, despite the fact that I don't see S NEARLY enough and R has a sense of humor so dry it always gives me cotton mouth.

Baby. Beard. Gun.

Vesper's exercise program:

Blake dearly loves to have her next to him while she's jumping, especially when he's at the table. He'll also pull a blanket from his room and all three of his LEGO bins to set up a building shop beside her feet. This kid is SUCH a great big brother, and she adores him right back, having eyes for no other when he's in the room. The other night, I asked him if he wanted our next baby (still a twinkle in our eyes, no announcements here!) to be a boy or a girl. 

B: A girl.

A: Really? That surprises me. I was SURE you'd want a brother!

B: (contemplatively chewing a bite of food) Well, I used to. But I just love Vesper so much that I want another baby sister.