Groceries, butterflies, and prayer

I have to confess that I am not an organized person by nature (those who know me well are laughing at this understatement). However, something magical happens when I begin to prepare for grocery shopping.  The result is a carefully organized list that allows me to do my shopping as quickly and efficiently as possible.  I say this to preface today’s story.  How do things go so terribly wrong?

As I shopped today, I attempted to make the food choices that would be healthiest for my family.  I pondered the cereals and selected that highest in fiber, lowest in sugar, and most delicious.  I even bought veggie corn dogs so that the kids can enjoy a yummy treat without all the extras that are bad for them.  Then as I stood at the meat counter selecting the chicken breast we would have for dinner, I noticed my sweet angel out of the corner of my eye.  What’s she doing?  I then realized what was happening and all I could do was  call on the Lord for strength.   She had leaned over and was walking up and down the meat counter, licking it!  One more time.  She was licking the RAW meat counter! I think I blacked out for a moment. 

The rest of the shopping trip was a blur.  During checkout, the sweet lady at the register questioned me about all the opened items in my cart.  I just pointed to the baby and continued loading the conveyer belt.  My spirit was broken. 

We were about to leave when our sweet customer service lady asks, “Is your daughter sick because her face looks sick?”  This brings me out of my fog.  I immediately think she has licked up some type of super germ that has quickly overtaken her little body (too much Dateline!).  I then look at her precious face and can only laugh.  You see, we attended a fabulous party this weekend that included face painting.  My angel was painted like a beautiful butterfly.  It appears that maybe we left the butterfly on a bit long and the result is an odd pink and blue mix that gives her a bizarre look that is somewhere between surprise and sickness. 

My prayer for today is thank you Lord for our food, our family, and for face paint ‘cause it gave me a good laugh when I needed it.  Oh, and please spare us from the meat counter super germs! Amen.

And this is why I love you today…

Baby boy, I love you for so many reason but these are a few for today.

• You are such a big boy and have learned how to climb out of your crib all by yourself.  I was able to witness this feat today and while it gave me pause to see you dangling, unsupported from your bed; I applaud your courage. You are a superhero!

• When you threw up this morning you were so considerate and managed to do it in the bathtub (with your big sister).  It was so thoughtful of you to save mommy the chore of cleaning the carpet. What a wonderful little man!

• When I rescued you from the yucky tub, you clung to me and made me feel like the most important person in the world.  You smiled at me in a way that let me know that we were all going to be okay.  You are a comforter.

• Despite your sickness, you still managed to muster up enough energy to climb upon the kitchen table, peer out the window and talk to the lawnmower.  You really are a champ!

Sweet girl, you know Mommy loves you so much! You gave me so many reasons today.

• You are so creative and have renamed your baby brother, Baby Sephoe.  I don’t know where this name came from but it seems to fit and I am so proud of your creativity.  You are an artist.

• When Baby Sephoe spilled (your term) in your bathtub this morning (and on you and your toys and your towel) you proclaimed that we had an emergency on our hands and immediately rushed into action. You have a heart for adventure and are always eager to help.  You are a rescuer!

• Even whilst we all huddled together in the shower trying to wash away the remnants of the emergency, you pointed out the sillier points of mommy’s anatomy and giggled.  You bring humor to every situation. (even if I don’t always laugh!)  You are my own little comedian!

• When it was time to rest, you asked if I would snuggle you on the couch and you said to me, “Mommy, you’re my best friend.”  Baby girl, you are my best friend, too.

Race Report

Every year our local track club hosts a Labor Day race on the mountain with 10K, 5K and 1 mile distances.   Last year we decided to make it a family event.  Jake ran the 10K, I ran the 5K and Ella ran the 1 mile fun run (with Daddy in tow). We had so much fun that we decided to make this an annual McMonkey Family tradition.

We intentionally waited until the night before to tell Ella about the race, and it’s a good thing because she spent most of the evening running laps around the house and bending over imitating a breathless runner. (I think we may have overdone it a bit watching the Olympics!) 

Race morning was filled with excitement, more running, and lots of talk about winning.  Here’s the official race report:

They set off at a blistering pace.  Ella’s pink shorts and Jake’s orange shorts made for a bright combination that was easy to pick out in the crowd!

 

 After about 14 minutes I saw a pink blur coming across the horizon.  It was my baby girl and she was going strong.

 

So strong, in fact, that she apparently started a little bit of preschool smack talk.  Her pacer (aka Daddy) says that she leaned over to the little boy in orange and said with 3 year old confidence,  “I’m beating you.” (Once again, a little too much Olympics.)

This prompted him to stick out his tongue and pick up his pace, leaving my angel in his dust.

 

Bless his heart.  He really under estimated my little princess.   With 10 yards to go she kicked into high gear.

Here’s my little red-faced Ella running to the finish line in a full sprint.  And, yes, that’s Mr. Orange watching those little pink shorts run away.

 

What’s this? The finish line ribbons are pink!! 

You can try but you will never convince my sassy little 3 year old that she didn’t win this race; because she’ll tell anyone that will listen, “I beat that boy!”

Like Father, Like Son

I guess the old saying is true because when I went outside yesterday evening to call my husband in for supper, this is what I found…

My very talented husband had been working on one of our cars and had apparently rubbed his hands up and down his face.  Why would he do that? 

Upon returning inside I found this…

My precious baby boy had finished his meal and had also rubbed his little grubby hands all over his face (and his clothes and his high chair but what I can say, he’s an overachiever).

But in the midst of all of this dirt there is a shining light.  My sweet grubby-faced baby does see the value in clean hands.  In fact, he makes regular trips to the bathroom just to wash his hands in that water-filled basin that is so conveniently located right at his eye level.  I’m so proud!

Let us dance…

Almost every afternoon my kids and I turn on music and dance.  We leap, we twirl and we shake our booties.  It’s not sophisticated but it is a special time we share that no one really knows about.

Today I was particularly disgusted with the state of the house and was busy picking up toys, gathering laundry and generally raking the clutter together when my sweet angel asked if we could dance.  I almost told her to wait and then my mind was flooded with the thought that she’s only going to be this little, this loving, and this mine for a little while. 

You see, tonight my husband will attend the funeral of a child who attended his home church.  I have no doubt that God is working through the life and death of this beautiful girl and that his perfect will shall be accomplished; but the human part of me continues to struggle.  

I am not proud to admit that I have questions and I have fears and I just want to hold onto my kids extra tight in an attempt to protect them from this big bad world.  (I know, God, you’ve got them and thank you.) 

God’s still working on this part of me.

So in the meantime, we danced, we sang and we even ate peaches on the carpet.  All this with dishes in the sink, laundry in the hamper and toys almost everywhere. I will never be mistaken for Martha Stewart but somehow all that just seems a little less important.

Her worm crawled OUT of the apple

This is what our wonderful preschool teacher whispered to me as I picked up my precious girl at school today.  It is a good thing that I read the note that was sent home yesterday or I might have been a little confused by this statement.  It appears that the new rating system involves an apple, a worm and a bucket.  Obviously, the worm is not supposed to come out of the apple but we are all terribly grateful it did not fall in the bucket!

I didn’t  love to hear the news about the condition of the worm but I realize we will have ups and downs and some days will be better than others.  I know we are all still adjusting to the whole “school world”.  I just hope God understands my prayer when I pray that the worm stays in the apple.

Update to our Glamorous Life

We have started a new trend in bathroom decor.  It is called toilet paper in a basket.  Chic, huh?  Can you guess who what inspired this brilliant idea?