Wednesday, June 29, 2016

Sand in sandwiches

Madigan's comments to Paugie regarding Kelty's (less-than heart shmelting) post-nap attitude: "He's cute alright, but he sure knows how to put the sand in sandwiches." You called it, Buddy. I don't know how you do it, but you always do.

"Mama, Paugie had to help hold my Cuddle Tiger while I milked him. Cuddle Tiger sometimes doesn't like the interaction because he's an introvert." Introverts are not meant for milking, apparently. Paugie - ever the faithful assistant - should perhaps be more appropriately dubbed "Watson".

As I put Paugie to bed last night, he wanted only to sit and talk sweet somethings, and though his ridiculously long eyelashes were fluttering in fatigue, he kept the conversation moving, asking me every question he could conjure. We talked about his favorite Bible stories (in some great detail) and then about the importance of second morning mugs at the start of each day (not unlike second breakfast in importance and worth).

Kelty has had a "good decision" week, on the whole, and his Mama is very proud of him. He is at such an amazing age of being able to reason and understand reasoning, even though he does not himself speak a great deal yet. Often, as he runs about each day with his usual gusto and delight, he encounters obstacles (usually Mama's request to do something contrary to his natural inclination on a matter) and he most often stops, hesitates (possibly a wee bit longer than he ought) and then decides to do the right thing. Such a marvelous thing to see. When I tell him, "Kelty, that was a very good decision," he flashes me that smile and his face reflects a great deal of satisfaction. When he makes a "bad decision", often the disappointment reflected in my voice (or maybe the words themselves) will make him hesitate in his choice, even if he ultimately chooses wrongly. He's a tiny human and I marvel.

As I sat reading to the boys yesterday, Jevy stealthily maneuvered from a subtle snuggle at my feet to a full blown smother as he placed his less-than-tiny frame across me. Then, later, as I sat folding clothes, he climbed onto the couch behind me with his legs resting on my back. Progressively, he started to push me with his legs, inching me slowly forward until I plopped onto the floor. He laughed out loud and was clearly pleased that he had distracted my attention from the task at hand and onto himself in all his wonder. He's overt, in his own way.

My horse and (one of) her boy(s). 

20 years ago, I couldn't have imagined this... she was a baby and he wasn't born yet. :-)

The joy! 

My wild (and incredible) other horse.

Travel pose - on the way to feed the horse every day.

His drawing of 4 bros swimming in the pool together.

The "list" of tasks to be accomplished that day. 

The fowl part of our life.

One of 264 selfies he took this week. :-) 

KC McCool - even when he's sleeping.

Completely enthralled.

This week, we built a house on the prairie - probably not as well constructed as Pa Ingalls house, but we were limited in the materials that were at our disposal. We cooked prairie pheasants over an open fire (outside the house, as our chimney was not yet constructed). We were surrounded by wolves. We met several Indians (Native Americans).

Here's the primary builder.

The house. Obviously.

Fishing for lake trout. They were plentiful and we also caught a shark. In the lake. :-)

Homeschooling tip of the day:  In teaching arithmetic to boys, we have found multiplying burps is an effective and entertaining (albeit unmannerly and disgusting) method. 

Wednesday, June 22, 2016

this doesn't make sense!

Warning: Not for the delicate. Motherhood is gross. 

Jevy started throwing up this afternoon. And then he threw up again, and again, and again. I rinsed off the sheets in the sink, as, in the moment, I could think of no where else to do so. 
I, then, cleverly ran the disposal and sanitized the sink.
I, then, noticed the pipes were plugged. 
I put Jevy back into bed (where he proceeded to vomit again). 
(Mind you, George is out of town because there's never a shortage of adventures whilst single parenting - it's when all the fun happens!) 
I snaked the pipes. I was now covered in vomit AND sewage. 
These past few weeks, as the crazies piled up, I've kept thinking I reached the end of what I could bear, and I was (unpleasantly) surprised. 
I continued snaking the pipes and it started dripping into my hair. 
I shouted at God, and said "I'm going to consider this an honor! You've got to be preparing me for something or this doesn't make sense! At. All!" I was yelling, but somehow I feel He was not alarmed. 
Jevy threw up again. 
I showered with hope.
Jevy threw up again. 

I didn't shower - I smell like vomit. Get over it. 

Suffering, even in it's minor form (as above), feels out of place and unfair. When we step away from it or look with a glance at the suffering of others around us, we might find ourselves less surprised (thought perhaps still horrified) that suffering exists and plagues us. It's always easier to break it down and try to "understand it" when we're looking from a distance, no matter how much we care, feel empathy, or find our hearts breaking over the suffering of others. It may still seem incredibly unfair, but it doesn't overwhelm us and threaten our fragile psyche. Then, we ourselves face suffering (because life is full of it and not one is spared it's touch, in some way or another) and the very real questions start to be asked and evidence of a world falling so short of what it should be is what we find. As I scraped the goo off my eyelids tonight, I felt so ashamed. I was wallowing (kind of literally, in this case) in my (relatively minor) suffering in that moment and feeling a shortage in my capacity to "handle it". I reticently trust and accept that these small moments of absurdity are useful and are giving strength, perspective, compassion and humility. 

Tuesday, June 14, 2016

Let there be pigs

These summer days are filled - completely - with preparations for our upcoming move (to where, you ask? When we know, we'll be sure to tell you. The current runners up are: North Carolina, Ohio or Florida.) We've cleaned our house a couple hundred times and then re-cleaned it for good measure. We've patched every hole, replaced each tiny piece of trim, painted (and painted some more), weeded the flower beds, cut the grass (and re-weeded and re-cut the grass), and shuffled the boys outdoors multiple times to eliminate the active sabotage of any given cleaning exercise Mommy is entertaining herself with. 

Daddy and Mommy got a mini-vacation to Florida to scope out the possibilities and to get eaten by mammoth mosquitoes. Daddy was awfully cute smacking his own face, though. Thank you Ankie Tae for holding down the fort and thank you McGary boys for watching over Ankie Tae. You're a dependable bunch! 

The hot, humid days have hit with a force, but we are prepared! 

And got our handsome faces on! 

And our fish faces, too. 

And watch out world because Kelty is the selfie king, and you might be included if you're so lucky.

The baby birds are hatching (in our flower pot)! 

My phone keeps getting stolen only for me to discover little nuggets like these later on.

KC McCool is just... you know, bein' himself. Only the really cool can create new fashion trends - like upside down sunglasses.

Pool time is definitely afoot. And what band of bros doesn't relish a pink pool?

Paugie is still whimsical... in everything he does. Including spraying his brothers with the hose.

Jevy laughs himself silly in the hammock at his brother's shenanigans in the pool.

And charm bucket is generously distributing his supply on all of us - as usual. 

Today, after dropping Daddy off at the airport, Madigan and Paugie were praying for Daddy's safety and that we would be able to get a farm in our next adventure in life. Paugie added that he would really like to have Fancy and Devany at our farm. Madigan concluded the prayer with: "And... let there be pigs." So, if you see pigs in our future, you know who to blame. 

Monday, June 13, 2016

15 seconds

And he's out.