Monday, February 26, 2007
I love watching Agent 002 play. He can always come up with something to do. Here he is rubbing a metal pen case on sandpaper letters. I had intended to have him trace the letters with his fingers to get the sensation of the sandpaper as he "wrote." Instead, he wanted to rub things on the letters. He tried various objects, but liked the sound of fork on sandpaper the best.
This is what he did with craft sticks. He then used another stick to change the oil.
This is how he carried his Valentine's Day M&Ms to our color lesson:
This is the "train" he created in our kitchen:
Here is his "truck crayon:"
This is a magnet train:
And finally -- ART
It looks like I talk about myself a lot..... or maybe it counts the signature line on each post.
I actually am relieved to see that God, wisdom, and prayer are so prominent.
Saturday, February 24, 2007
I always forget to share good news with y'all. What does that say about me?
JR was able to go home on Wednesday. He will have a nurse and therapist visit every day for a while, but he is home. Very, very cool.
Thank you for the prayers. Keep them up for a while if you would.
Tuesday, February 06, 2007
Agent 004 has a new "Angelina Ballerina" doll, so dancing is now a big thing in our house. After watching the DVD that came with the doll, I popped some classical music in, handed each child a long strip of fabric, and started dancing. All three joined in, joyfully waving their ribbons.
Agent 002 then remarked, "just like at my old school," remembering the music classes at his orphanage.
Memory is an interesting thing. That's the first time he has made any mention in over a year.
Sunday, February 04, 2007
As my time on the internet has become more precious, I have spent less time seeing the sites or reading new blogs. I have fallen into a blog-rut. Curt Jester and the Catholic Blog Awards (link broken?) have cured me, however. In his awards post, Curt Jester recommended scores of blogs. I have not yet worked through the entire list, but have already found a new favorite -- Ironic Catholic. In a recent post, he describes the "unexpected spiritual benefits of blogging."
- You get to practice patience as you spend way too much time... a. trying to size a picture through the Blogger program, b. waiting to see if the post will publish, c. tweaking with one sentence so that it makes sense, d. all of the above
- Faith in the everyday: seek, and ye shall find something to write about.
- Great opportunity to jam to excellent Christian music while you write, like, say, Ashley Cleveland. Um, or Gregorian Chant. (OK, that was a shameless plug. She's so phenomenal.)
- You get multiple opportunities to resist the temptation of looking at your SiteMeter stats. And when you do look, it's often an exercise in humility. A win-win!
- You get to practice non-violent conflict resolution when you wade into the occasionally turbulent waters of the comment boxes.
- You get to contemplate the beauty of nature as you look out the window in search of...a point....
- St. Jude has a more-than-passing familiarity with the Christian blogosphere. I'm jus' sayin'.
- Finally, always remember: we live in the blogosphere, but not of the blogosphere.
Update (2/2/07): I apologize for the pronoun confusion -- Ironic Catholic is a woman.
Friday, February 02, 2007
Happy Catholic posted this:
"The funny thing about lottery tickets," Mary mused as we waited in line at the cash register, "is that people keep buying them even if they never win. Week after week, month after month, year after year, still they never give up hope. But if they pray for something two or three times, they expect immediate results, and if it doesn't happen, then they say that God is unfair, disinterested, or dead. Why is it easier to keep believing in the lottery than in God?"Our Lady of the Lost and Found: A Novel of Mary, Faith, and Friendship
by Diane Schoemperlen
Check out the weekend joke as well.
Never, ever, listen to country music when in a fragile emotional state.
For someone who has only cried once in the past two weeks (and that was when a cafeteria worker overcharged me for a cup of coffee), the radio sure got me choked up yesterday.
I was heading down the highway to visit my brother in the hospital, I realized that without kids in the car, I could listen to "grown up radio." I tuned to the local country station, and started bopping along to the tail end of a song I recognized. Then a new song came on about a man driving home in a snowstorm because he couldn't get a flight. "Cute," I thought, "such a nice couple." Then the song ended with:
He didn't stop all day to eat a biteThus commenced the blubbering.
And he finally got there around midnight
The doctor said, she's in a better place
She said to give this you this note just in case
And it said, I'll wait for you at Heaven's gate
Oh, I don't care how long it takes
And I'll tell Saint Pete I can't come in
Without my love and my best friend
Oh, this ain't nothin' new
Sweetheart, I'll wait for you
P.S. I love you, too
Sweetheart, I'll wait for you
Not that I haven't made this mistake before. As Mr warillever and I pulled onto the Toll Road on our way to see his very ill father in New York, the first song on the radio was Blake Shelton's "The Baby" --
I got a call in Alabama,We made it to see Mr warillever's "Pop" that night, and I made it to see JR yesterday. But I will never listen to the radio on my way to a hospital again.
said come on home to Louisianna
and come as fast as you can fly.
Cause your momma really needs you,
and says she's got to see you,
she might not make it through the night.
The whole way I drove 80
so she could see her baby.
She looked like she was sleepin'
and my family had been weepin'
by the time that I got to her side.
And I knew that she'd been taken,
and my heart it was breakin',
I never got to say goodbye.
I softly kissed that lady
and cried just like a baby.
I am a little behind. I have 358 unread emails, and that is with gmail, which counts "conversations," not individual messages.
This does not concern me in and of itself, but it is indicative of my arrears in other areas. For example, I think that the last time that I folded laundry probably coincided with the last time I read email.
Flylady tells me (at the bottom of each of her 231 unread messages),
"You are not behind! I don't want you to try to catch up; I just want you to jump in where we are. O.K.?"I am going to take her up on that, mark all of her messages as "read," and dive into that mountain of laundry on the livingroom floor. Wish me luck.