summer 2011

summer 2011

Paul and I, all 16 kids and Ashley, Benjamin's wife...Christmas 2012

Paul and I, all 16 kids and Ashley, Benjamin's wife...Christmas 2012

Friday, March 12, 2010

aah, friday!

my camera, my pictures. Will that hold up when Margaret gets mad at me for putting this picture of her here? I just uploaded pictures, and found her...with MY scarf on. Busted. Not that I care, one of my weaknesses is that I share everything I have, and therefore have nothing. Charlotte Claire, standing on the Sit'n spin..
Well, Martha, today Aaron, Margaret, Kathryn, Evelyn, Suzanne, and Sonja went to school. Six. Samuel is still in bed, I do not know what is wrong with him yet. Mali is still in Norway, and Jonathan was at the nurse with a headache yesterday. When I went in to wake them up this morning, I decided to let him stay home today. I mean, the kid is in kindergarten, he can count to 410 (of course when he announced this, his brother asked him why he didn't just count to 411, and on and on it went....), he understands basic math, and can read.

So now Jonathan, Charlotte Claire, and Camille are playing, and Samuel came in and told me his reason for skipping: they were seeing a play the first half of the day. Whatever. Sam and can have some quality time.

Last night we had marinated roasted chicken breast with Italian bread and butter, and a salad with red and green peppers, snap peas and radishes. There is not enough leftover chicken to make another meal.....rrr. But at least Paul had good things to take for his lunch.

I had a really bad dream last night, that we were being ruled by people who hated children, and the children were not allowed outside after one in the afternoon or ELSE. And I was terrified that my little ones wouldn't understand, and would wander out the door. I hate dreams like that. I wake up and am wide awake, and then the bed starts feeling uncomfortable, and I start thinging about things I want to do., and worry about I try to make better use of that time in the night, to pray, and think about good things. I have profound thoughts about how short life really is, and I make those resolutions about how tomorrow I AM going to go on the treadmill, and have oatmeal for breakfast and be really careful about what I far so good, I had oatmeal with walnuts and cranberries.

Right now the three youngest kids are sitting at the table eating bagels and drinking orange juice, and Camille is saying about her orange juice, "This is my hot coffee.", and shaking her head YES to drive home the point. When the older girls went on the bus, she said to them, "Bye girls, thanks for coming to my house." She is adorable, but where did my baby go?

Tomorrow is Rosie's birthday. She is turning one year old. She is very excited about her birthday, either that or she is just plain excited about everything. She is the very embodiment of enthusiasm.

Oh great, the older kids brought home some cookies last night from their youth meeting, and the little ones just found them. Why is it that two year olds eat only the middles of sandwich cookies?

I am staying home again today. Mirielle has only one class, and is going to Lowe's to get more paint for their room, and to Wegmans for some things for her activity club group and some milk and veggies for here. Two days in a row staying home.....

My Uncle Jerry did not have anything in his room at the nursing home. Not a colored picture from a grandchild, or a framed picture of a wife, or a vase of flowers from co-workers. It was bare. He had a very sad story, which I have told before, about how he killed his wife in a fit of anger in the midst of a fight, strangled her with a dishtowel. Horrible, horrible thing to do, and I knew Aunt M. very well, since I worked with her for a year at the insurance agency. They had their teenage son, and they seemed very connected. Phone calls all the time, Fridays looking forward to their weekends together, and Mondays telling how much fun they had. The sad part is that his son never forgave him, unless he did it secretly in his heart, which I hope he did. Jerry never got to see his grandchildren. Oh, it is easy to say that he deserved it, and maybe he did. He spent 15+ years in prison. I just can't help feeling so bad about the whole thing.....would it really have killed his son to go to that nursing home and tell his father he loved him?

I know a story that Cheryl knows better, a girl she went to college with....she had a routine where every night she went in and said good night to her younger brother, but one night she didn't because she was mad at him. She was at school the next day and found out that he had died suddenly. In her mind, it was because she didn't say goodnight. So forgive and be kind and forgive again! (obviously it was not this girl's fault, but it haunted her)

Well, I have a diaper to change.....and and and....the story of my life, a woman's work is never my case, it isn't even started.....

1 comment:

FLmom7 said...

I'm sorry about your uncle Jerry...that is a sad story, but at least you have forgiven him.