Bad Bunnies

This is Jude--covered--I mean covered--in dirt.
His older brother and sister were found in a similar state on Saturday evening, thirty minutes before our Bible study group was to arrive at our house. Apparently, the three little bunnies decided that playing in the raised vegetable beds would be a good idea (or at least it seemed like a good idea at the time), since all the big people were preoccupied with big people things. Like preparing dinner and scrambling madly through the house trying to pick up dirty socks and granola bar wrappers before our guests arrived.

So the three little bad bunnies were placed in the big claw foot tub (which had to be drained and refilled several times due to the level of dirtiness) and should have gone to bed without their dinners, just like Peter Rabbit. Instead, they were told to eat their suppers quickly while the big people cleaned all the mud off the kitchen and bedroom floors and then were forced, due to time constraints, to scarf down their dinners as well. Then the door bell rang and we greeted our guests with bright shining faces and welcomed them into to our perfectly peaceful home.

Apple Picking

Trash to Treasure: Dresser Redo

A long time ago, when I only had one, two and even three kids, I did a lot more transforming of yard sale furniture into beautiful items for my home than I do now. In fact, now I take a look at a scratched and dinged up yard sale piece with "good lines" and quickly remind myself, "You don't have the time or energy. Don't even think about it."

This past summer I went looking for a small dresser with specific dimensions. I wanted a place to store the family's winter hats, mittens and scarves by the front door. I've been using a basket type dresser for this purpose for the past two years. It was a handy-me-down from my grandma and it served its purpose adequately. However, it wasn't made well and Matt had to repair broken drawers several times. Also, the contents of the dresser were always visible, even when the drawers were completely closed. I scoured yard sales, thrift stores and Craigslist for a small dresser, but came up empty.

Then one day I spotted THE ONE inside St. Vincent de Paul. The perfect little dresser (I measured it)--all wood, dove-tailed drawers, sturdy, BUT the finish was in terrible condition. It was a bit pricey, too. I stood over that thing in the store and pondered and pondered. I finally called Matt to ask permission to buy it, half hoping that he'd be the voice of reason and say, "Forget it, you don't have the time." Instead he said, "If it's the right size and it's what you want, then you'd better get it." So I did.

Then the dresser sat in our shed for several months. Finally on this past Saturday, with freezing weather predicted for that evening, I decided if I wanted the dresser inside the house for this winter's use, then I'd better just bite the bullet and get it refinished. (I've learned the hard way not to spray paint inside.)

Matt roughed up the finish of the dresser with sandpaper (such a good hubby) while I went to Lowe's to get espresso brown spray paint. It took me all afternoon to paint the dresser, but I'm pleased with the result. I only wish that I would have painted it turquoise instead of brown--but now it's done and it's not getting redone any time soon.
Elizabeth organized all the winter gear neatly into the drawers. I now have a much more visually appealing (at least to me) piece of furniture next to my front door and I have the added bonus of having met my furniture refinishing quota for the next six years.

Conversation with a Little Guy

Joel still wears his cowboy garb everyday. I let him go to bed at night wearing his jeans, belt and cowboy hat. It's just easier. I don't think having a major battle over wearing P.J.'s is worth the fight.

This morning, right after Joel woke up, we had this conversation:

"Mommy, my shirt keeps untucking," (in a frustrated tone of voice). "I can't have quiet time." (Interpretation--"My shirt comes 'untucked' when I lie down, therefore I can't lie down anymore.' ")

"Joel, sometimes clothes are just like that. The pants I wore yesterday (a poorly engineered pair of maternity jeans) wouldn't stay up and I had to keep pulling them up all day."

Joel, in a condescending "you're comparing apples to oranges" tone, replied, "But Mommy, you need a belt!"

His Name Is . . .

Matt and I have decided on the name of our little baby boy. His name is Isaac. We've discussed, we've deliberated, we've listened to others' baby name suggestions and we've prayed. Matt and I both had other Bible names we were considering, the names of men whose hearts were for the Lord and names that had beautiful meanings attached to them. However, the Lord kept leading us back to Isaac, the child given to Abraham and Sarah in their old age, the child of the promise. We eagerly await and earnestly pray for the safe arrival of our fourth son, Isaac John (meaning laughter, Jehovah is gracious) sometime near the end of the year.

Whirlwind Weekend

Friday night--dinner here with friends.

Saturday--yard sales, church meetings and a rendezvous with Grandpa Tom and Grandma Jane for Grace and Paul. They all enjoyed a special evening which included dinner, a performance of South Pacific and a hotel stay. The rest of us made chicken and took it to Grandpa Bob's and Grandma Dianne's for our monthly family dinner while we awaited news of the birth of the sixteenth grandchild.
Sunday--texting brother-in-law @ 3 a.m. to inquire if the baby had made his entrance yet. He had--just fifteen minutes prior. Matt and I enjoyed pictures in the wee hours of the morning. We got up early to attend the early service @ church, listened to a lecture on the Grand Canyon and the Genesis Flood, then headed over to the hospital to see the newest Macduff. Home for a quick lunch, then Matt headed out to pick up Grace and Paul, who had had and awesome and exhausting time.
We had every intention of going to the monthy out-of-town family worship this evening, but had to cut our losses, realizing that our busy weekend had just about done all of us in and we'd probably regret not getting home until 10 p.m. tonight. Seems like our weekends always run out before we have time to squeeze everything into them that we want to, but such is life.

More Lydiaisms

Last weekend when Matt and I got back from eating dinner out to celebrate our anniversary, we came home to a surprise. The kids had cleaned the master bedroom, taken the picture off of the wall and replaced it with our wedding photos and had put up a card table complete with table cloth and napkins. They had laid a spread of wine glasses, grape juice and a homemade dessert on the table as well. Our favorite "couple tunes" were playing, including Nat King Cole's "Mona Lisa."
All of the kids got a chance to dance with Mommy and Daddy. Mommy and Daddy even shared a dance. It was a very nice ending to our anniversary evening. At one point during the evening's festivities, Lydia said, "Hope you like it, Mommy. It's all we could afford!"

* * * * *

I took Elizabeth and Lydia with me yesterday to some yard sales. At one sale, Lydia spotted a small (and incomplete) china tea set that she wanted. She asked the woman running the sale, "How much is this?" "Two dollars," was the woman's reply.

Lydia turned to me and said, "That's too much for me and I know you won't buy it for that much, either, Mommy." (She knows me so well).

The sale suddenly become quite crowded with people, so I was a little embarrassed that Lydia wasn't trying to be a bit more discreet. Then the woman asked, "Well, then how much will you pay me for it then?" "Fifty cents!" Lydia said, loudly and boldly. All the other customers burst out laughing and the woman said, "You've got it girl! Just don't tell anyone else I let you talk me down!"
Lydia promptly pulled fifty cents out of her little purse and happily bought the tea set. I thanked the woman for her kindness and then we headed out to the next sale. Seventies knick knacks seemed to be the items de jour yesterday, so I came home nearly empty handed. Not Lydia--she found several items with which she was quite pleased and I know the reason. It's because she's cuter than I am.

Let There Be Light

Matt gave me the best present a wife could possibly want for our anniversary this year. The best present to a wife who does a lot of laundry, that is (well, except for a maid). He wired a light into the laundry room. During the two plus years that we've lived in this house, the dark laundry room has caused me much consternation. I've had to bring the laundry to the kitchen table to check for spots on the clothes and spray stain remover on them there, then take them over to the washer. Now I can just go through the all of the clothes on top of the washing machine, spray the stains and throw everything in the machine--no extra steps necessary. Yay for me! Kudos to my loving husband who braved the dangerous attic to wire the light for me.

Lydiaism

As we were driving home from church today, I spotted a couple of yard sales. Since I know yard sale season is quickly drawing to a close for the year, I decided to go check out the sales after lunch. I took Lydia with me.

The first sale yielded six cookbooks in pristine condition (Rachael Ray, Rick Bayless and the like) for 25 cents each. Lydia bought herself some birthday candles and a Dr. Seuss book for a total of 20 cents. As we were leaving, Lydia spotted a pink stuffed frog and asked the woman running the sale how much it was (before I could tell my girl that we didn't need anymore junk at home). The woman said, "For you, it's free." Lydia and I both said thank you very much and we climbed into the car to go hit the next sale. Lydia proceeded to tell me about the great deals she had gotten at the sale. I told her the reason she always gets such good prices at yard sales is because she's so cute.At the next sale, I bought a couple of pairs of shoes for Lydia and a little shelf to put above her bed. When I paid, the woman quoted me a higher price than the items were marked. I was too tired to quibble, so I just gave her the money and Lydia and I got back into the car. I complained that I didn't appreciate the prices at that particular sale and Lydia said, "I'm sorry you're not cute enough to get good prices, Mom."

Happy Anniversary

Seventeen years . . . We're thanking the Lord for all our yesterdays and asking that He grant us many more tomorrows.. . .a threefold cord is not quickly broken . . . Eccl. 4:12