Call It What You Want...

Have I mentioned how much I like neighbors who are currently out of work?

I would be happy to mow my own grass, but am really not up for it. Well, maybe not happy, but I'd do it. Tim would be similarly amenable to doing it, if he were home and without a list of tasks a mile long to do in those few hours he is home. Daylight saving time helps some, but...

A couple months ago, our next-door neighbor, Cindy, came over. "You guys have been so nice to us since we moved in, and I wanted to do something for you. Can I mow your grass?"

Gee. I suppose. Twist my arm really hard...

She fell in love with the snazzy lawnmower Tim got me that has variable-speed self-propelled-ness and an electric ignition. She came over and mowed a couple more times, including when Tim was in Europe.

Also we have Jerry across the street, looking after things, helping the waddling pregnant lady keep things picked up. One week he put the garbage cans away when Tim was gone. Another time he had his landscaping guy take some old landscaping trash away. Then he cleaned up the debris from the curb so it could be hauled away.

Today, Tim has a list of things to do when he gets home. Top of the list is mowing. Except...

Doorbell rings. Can't be Cindy; she finally got a job after many interviews at many good places. Ahh, it's her husband Jeff. He's now out of work. And bored. Can he mow my grass?

After reading (and laughing heartily) at Terri's most recent post regarding her bright little boy, I have to weigh in as well on some of the funny and strange little things our kid has recently picked up from...well, who knows where?

While Jack (Terri's boy, and the same age as Mark) is practicing counting, all letters and numbers to Mark are still "A". Though he has been known to say "Two, tree" on occasion. But last night (and again today) he picked up a new library book that we hadn't read yet, pointed to a word on the cover, and said "Machine" very clearly. And it was the word. Did I mention we had not even looked at the book yet other than to pull it off the shelf and put it into the library bag???

This evening's pick-up time was heading into disaster when it suddenly took a turn for the better; he even picked up blocks that I didn't hand him and put them into the box. And then, just as it was time to head upstairs, he spotted his new van (which Grandma gave him on her last visit having "found" it. Where did she find it? In her bag, of course. At a store, originally, I'm sure...) and grabbed it. I thought it was headed upstairs with him to bed, but no, gleefully, he skip/hopped across the living room and put it in the bucket with the rest of the cars and trucks (and buses). We know where a successful pick-up time is from (at least that we've been trying), but it's such a refreshing change when we get it.

We're also learning that we have to be rather cautious of what words we say. Yesterday in the car it was "dumb", which of course he repeated gleefully. Grandma and I quickly turned that into a song, and then into "Hand, Hand, Fingers, Thumb (dum-ditty-dum-ditty-dum-dum-dum)," which was fine with him.

And, for our amusement during church, he's starting to pay attention to what's being said and repeating choice words. Fortunately that's usually "Amen", and a couple weeks ago, at the end of service, as the pastor said "Go in peace, serve the Lord," Mark repeated "Peace! Peace!"

And then there's the appreciation of humor. Just looking at a funny picture of him playing with his cousin Jonathan left him dissolved in giggles.

It's so fun to watch a little boy grow, develop, learn, change. When does it get old?

Hurray! It's our TENTH anniversary and I think we even still like each other. :)

Here is proof that yes, we really did get married, and, yes, it really was 10 years ago. Please note that my friends and I were all still skinnnnnnnny then. And that Chuck Pearson *(yes, Chuck, you were there) had long hair. And that Tim was as cute then as he is now. (Thank you Tim for being the best husband ever in the whole world... I love you!!!!)

Just in case I haven't had enough to say lately, I thought you should know...

Mark has moved into his big boy room today.

Last night Daddy moved the last of Grandpa Arnfinn's and Grandma Ruth's furniture into the new and improved guest room (formerly my sewing room, and still a catch-all room for my craft stuff as well) and put up the valances I made to go with the quilt, and so today, I took apart the crib and moved it across the hall (this would have been much easier had two doorways been about two inches wider and lined up instead of staggered a little across the hall from each other). Mark helped by playing with trucks and only knocking the side of the crib over on himself once... and he didn't let it smush him but caught it and held it up while I came to his rescue. Also I moved the dresser and some clothes from the closet, and took out the toddler bed that Jonathan used when he was here last.

He's now taking a nap in his same old bed in a new room, and I even let him take a bulldozer into bed with him so he may never want to get up. The room-darkening shades seem to work well, and I did bring his CD player in, but I didn't move the monitor over, so I really can't hear if he's carrying on. (With this comes the question: Do I continue to have a monitor in his room? Do I leave the monitor in the room for the new baby? Hmmm...)

I will try to post some pictures, at least of his new accessories, but they'll have to wait to be taken until after the boy gets up.

This is bed, quilt and left window valance. The trucks on the quilt are repeated on the valances, three for each.

And this is the right valance. This fine set includes cement mixer, tractor, dump truck, box truck, school bus and fire truck. There is a chance the boy will be too excited about the trucks to sleep at all.

One of these days, we're going to stop being amazed when the small boy makes connections that we don't know he's got. But until then, you get stories like these...

Last night he and his friend Bear (the same one who went swimming here) were playing in his room when he picked up a tiny pair of pajamas. Daddy told him they were too small for him, and that they were for a baby. He, of course, didn't recognize the pajamas as having come with Bear when they arrived from friends Jason and Gayle because, well, Bear hasn't worn them in nearly a year, anyway. But Mark did, and started trying to put the pajamas on the Bear. When he was dressed (Daddy helped), he put a blanket on the floor and he and Bear (in pajamas) snuggled up as if for bed.

Too cute.

(While I'm writing this, however, he is rebelling against "Strawberries 'n' Cream" oatmeal, and filled the back of the truck that was waiting on the table -- I thought out of reach -- for him to finish breakfast. Sigh.)

Okay, Kids, take a deep breath. It's late and we all seem to be a little testy. I will deal with the comments from the last blog and then we can get back to the regularly scheduled blogging.

RT, Mrs. H., check with Hammer, because I sent him what I thought was a nice email explaining the Bible Thumper comment, which, if you'll look, was not relating to him at all.

I haven't banned anyone from this blog; if any further comments didn't appear, it was due to settings for this blog that filter out obscene content, which I seriously doubt any of you made.

This really isn't a "lively debate" sort of blog, as I told Hammer in my email to him. This is more of a "keeping my friends posted" sort of place. I don't mind if people I don't know stop by to visit, comment, whatever. I even had a whole lot more in this blog explaining my position, but that turns this into a lively debate sort of blog, which wasn't my intent.

In closing, I will include the exact last paragraph I sent to Hammer in my email, and thank everyone to lower your voices and relax.

"Forgive me for not offering much lively discussion of issues on my own website," I told him with a nice little smiley face. "I generally look to the lighter side, though if you’d like to discuss where you think the people on Texas Ranch House on PBS went wrong, your favorite material or time period for historic clothing, or cute exploits of a favorite kid, this is your place. :)  I wish you the best in your ministry and hope for your continued success in spreading the word of Christ to those who need it the most.

Now may the Lord of peace Himself continually grant you peace in every circumstance.

Sincerely, Jenny"

I hope this clears up a thing or two. Feel free to be outraged and never visit this site again if it doesn't fit what you think a blog should be.

For three days it’s been troubling me, eating at me, and I have to say it: Some questions in this world do not have a definite answer. There are many valuable opinions on many subjects, even those of faith, which is why in a social, small-talk setting, you’re not supposed to discuss religion or politics. Stay away, because there are those who think they know everything, and if you don’t agree with them, you’re just flat-out wrong, pagan, going straight to Hell and I hope you burn on the way, heretical idiots.

I’m sorry, but in this world, there are a lot of questions that do not have answers. I still believe there are definite right and wrong, but I think there are a lot more things that aren’t so clear. I’m not a moral relativist; I’m a realist.

I confess, I’m a recovering know-it-all. There have been many times when I’ve wanted to show everyone how smart and full-of-faith I am by having the answer to every question there is. But face it:

* There isn’t always an answer here on earth.

* I don't know everything - and I'm actually okay with that.

* I am not God – nor do I want to be, nor do you want me to be – and so my pronouncements are no more valid than yours or anyone else’s.

* High-minded, arrogant ideas and stubborn clinging to one’s own “rightness” tend to go out the window when one realizes that each individual (even if he’s a liberal, God forbid) is of great worth to God and the Kingdom, and preaching how wrong he is isn’t going to help him a jot.

Recently I let myself be dragged into a fairly stupid discussion-slash-argument. It started over a matter of opinion – and irony – and turned into a slugfest, complete with arrogant assertions and calling into question the original writer’s salvation, believe it or not, over a statue. Anyone who didn’t agree with our arrogant friend was obviously a heretic – though I believe my own comments on the matter were considered too far beneath his supreme intelligence to even be acknowledged. Just as well. I looked him up and learned a little about him, including his new faith, young marriage, and current seminary enrollment. I have read many of his own internet posts and find much of what he writes for himself thorough, well-researched, and well-spoken, though a bit heavy-handed and dogmatic at times. However, it’s when someone else has a differing opinion that he seems to dissolve into name-calling. Sad.

It’s not the lively discussion that irritates me as much as the arrogance and name-calling. I know of few people who have come to a saving faith in Jesus Christ because they were shouted down in a discussion by a Christian. If I blatantly and repeatedly tell people that they are stupid and that their opinions, feelings and beliefs are invalid, and that they're flat-out wrong, they seldom wish to share the joy I claim to have in Christ and the communion with the Saints. You can catch a lot more flies with honey than with your self-righteous arrogance stick. Showing people you care about them is a lot more effective than showing them how superior you are.

I can only hope that said arrogant seminarian meets a few actual people before he takes his first pastorate and learns to care. And then I sit back and thank some people who taught me that loving my neighbor is a lot more important than always winning the argument: Kevin, Mikki, Michelle, Angela, Anne, Andrea, Masha, Jason, and yes, even Lu. May I always remember humility before my pride gets in the way.

Philippians 2:1-4: “If you have any encouragement from being united with Christ, if any comfort from his love, if any fellowship with the Spirit, if any tenderness and compassion, then make my joy complete by being like-minded, having the same love, being one in spirit and purpose. Do nothing out of selfish ambition or vain conceit, but in humility consider others better than yourselves. Each of you should look not only to your own interests, but also to the interests of others.”

or, My Mother is Laughing Her Fanny Off Right Now and Doesn't Know Why.

We were off to the bi-weekly visit with friendly Dr. P, but, unfortunately, we'd had to shift a morning appointment to afternoon due to Dr. P having to be in surgery in the a.m. Not the best plan for my small companion, who likes -- and needs -- his naps, so we took the earliest afternoon appt. in order to get home and get to bed!

We were okay in the waiting room, just an occasional "NO" here and there, but when Ashleigh (the nurse) called me back, she did the unthinkable. She said "Hi, Mark, how are you?" in her happy, perky, Ashleigh sort of voice. "NO! NO!" he said, adding a shriek or two for good measure.

We waited in the exam room, and I was even nice enough to let him peek through the blinds at the water feature right outside -- a pretty waterfall into a small fishpond -- and assured him that as long as he behaved well, we could go out and see that "wa-tur" when we were finished (and even the fish).

In came Dr. P, with a friendly greeting for the boy. "NO!" was the response. Another shriek accompanied it. It was my turn to hop up on the table, get the baby checked, etc., and Mark added crying to the delightful shrieking. To Dr. P's credit, he snickered a little. "He's watching to see what you're going to do," he said. Not much I can do, reclining on the table while the good doc smears goo on my belly to listen to baby's heart thumping away. So I ignored it, and, lo and behold, the screaming abruptly stopped, and Mister Drama went back to calmly eating the apple slice I'd given him, looking out the window at the "wa-tur" as if nothing had gone wrong.

I had to confess that I might be more irritated at these outbursts of drama if, well, I had any grounds to be.

Why is Grandma Sarah sitting at her computer reading this and doing a triumphant dance?

Fitting with tradition, Pathfinders got rain for the 4th of July, but we managed to have fun anyhow! This time we gathered at the Reynolds's, but Shawn was off saving lives, so we had to party without him. (Don't worry, Shawn, we didn't destroy anything.)

The kids got a kick out of the pools, though by the time Noah got his turn in the baby pool, he wasn't sure he wanted it.

This wasn't a declared game of Follow-the-Leader, but... Mark had a great time following Chase and trying to do what he did.

"Here, Elijah, take it!" Mark was hogging too many of the baby-baby pool toys, so we asked him to give one of the ducks back to Elijah.

While everyone else gets kids in the house, pools dismantled, the sun shade taken apart, and cameras put away, I wait while ominous clouds seem to creep closer...and closer...with a bit of a lapful.

We did manage to gather the "Pathfinder Cousins" for a group picture before we got them all worn out. That's (left to right) Chase (age 3), Noah (7 1/2 months), Abby (2 1/2 months), Elijah (7 1/2 months), Anna (Mark's best girlfriend, 7 1/2 months) and Mark (21 months). That's Mark, trying to look nonchalant while he's got an arm around a cute girl. Tell me, does he pull it off?