Beware the Evening VBS

You'd think that a week of immersion into the Bible would make my children strive to be better people. Quite the contrary. I've seen/heard so many fights and tears in the last three days that if I weren't working VBS, my children would NOT be attending. I have a good mind to leave them at home anyway.

I don't think it's VBS. I think it's the timing of VBS. 6:30-8:30 IN THEORY. I don't think they've gotten out before 8:40 yet, and by the time all the parents finally get to the nursery (where I am) to pick up their kiddos, and I get out to retrieve my kiddos, it's 9:00. By the time we get them home and into bed and asleep, it's 10:00.

I do understand that many, many families function in this time zone in the summer. We do not. As evidenced by all the great weeping and gnashing of teeth that takes place around here by my over-tired children who WILL NOT SLEEP IN.

In the school year I praise God for my early risers, but this week, I just wish they would sleep until nine once.

(I should throw on an afterword that goes something like this: the theological discussions in our van have been delightful. (I should probably not say "in between the fights and tears") And: my kids LOVE VBS and clean up their act when I threaten them that if they don't they won't be going. VBS is a good thing. I know this. Evening VBS can even be necessary for some families. This is a good service to provide for someone, I'm certain. I am trying to get over myself. Go easy on me. I'm a little stressed.)

if you don't have anything nice to say...

I should have something to say. Yet, I don't. I'm cranky. My house is on the market with no lookers. My children watch TV all day and i can't cook the foods I love because i can't make the house smell like anything but vanilla. All assuming that someone at some point will want to see the house at a moment's notice. I yell a lot. I cry a lot. I drop into bed exhausted and can't sleep. Good times. Good times. I'm sure you wish I would write more, dontcha?

Shades of Morning by Marlo Schalesky

Hey, anyone up for an other-worldly story of redemption?

Marnie didn't know much about miracles. 
Mistakes maybe. Accidents. And monstrous mess-ups.
She knew a lot about those.
Bit miracles? Those were for other people.


Marnie Wittier has life just where she wants it. Quiet. Peaceful. No drama. A long way from her past. In the privacy of her home, she fills a box with slips of paper, scribbled with her regrets, sins, and sorrows. But that's nobody else's business. Her bookstore/coffee shop patrons, her employees, her friends from church--they all think she's the very model of compassion and kindness.


Then Marnie's past creeps into her present when her estranged sister dies and makes Marnie guardian of her fifteen-year-old son--a boy Marnie never knew existed. And when Emmit arrives, she discovers he has Down syndrome--and that she's woefully unprepared to care for him. What's worse, she has to deal with Taylor Cole, her sister's attorney, a man Marnie once loved--and abandoned.


As Emmit and Taylor work their way into her heart, Marnie begins to heal. But when pieces of her dismal past surface again, she must as last face the pieces of paper in her box, all the regrets and sorrows. Can she do it? Or will she run again?

This is one of those books that will grip you from page one, but leave you puzzled until the very end, which actually leaves me conflicted about how I feel about the book as a whole. Now that I've finished it, I love the story. Reading it? Grr. I don't like predictable, but a little more hurry out of the confusion would have been nice. (but, frankly, I've been insanely stressed and that could factor into my feelings)

One thing I do know is that, other than an overall satisfying story, you never know what kind of book you'll get when you pick up a Marlo Schalesky. Was this my favorite? No. Was this my least favorite? No. It hovers somewhere in the middle. But I'd still give it an 8.7 out of 10. (As Veil of Fire was a solid 9.8, that's what I expect, and that's a lot to expect from a writer. I know that. I'm trying to mature. ;P )

So, as I said, you like other-worldly, mysterious, time leaping reads, here's a book for you.

Have a good book-filled weekend, peeps!

COTM - Dad Life

In the continuing saga that is Princess and reproduction IV

Yesterday, while reading a complex book about butterflies, Princess hollers from across the house, "WHAT'S SEX?" (Mind you, this was about the third word she didn't understand among others like pheromones, etc.)

I, being of sound mind, yelled back, "Gender. Like being male or female." (Please, God. Deep breath.) "Well, depends on how it's used." Walks upstairs. Reads book. "Yeah, it means how they determine if it's a boy or girl."

I'm going to HAVE to have a talk with her whether she's ready or not. Because she is quite possibly going to public school next year and will need to not be the class idiot that doesn't know what EVERYBODY knows at that age. Gah.

I'm gonna miss our little Christian school.

(Oh, wait, you all don't know about all this yet, do ya? We're moving home. Finally. Details soon. I promise.)

Charming

Charming: Mom, what kind of a day is it?
Mom: A sunny day!
Charming: Oh! A sunny day! I want to kiss it! Can I kiss the sunny day?
Mom: Yes, kiss the sunny day.
Charming: *kisses window* I wuv a sunny day!

Would that we could all approach new days with this enthusiasm.

Where I've Been

Not the most beautiful, but certainly the best moment of last week. Except, maybe, for this one:

He Has A Point

Charming has been usurping my computer and demanding to watch "Cars" shorts on YouTube for a couple weeks now. Very frustrating. For every time I get on the computer to do something highly important (like check my email), he worms his way in and asks for Cars.

This morning, in exasperation, I said, "Why don't we just go watch Cars on the TV?"

"Mommy, no!" He said. "Witning Cwashes and bwows out him tires on that one!"

I'm not sure he could have come up with a more reasonable argument.

He got the computer.