In Which I Share the Best and Worst of NYE 2020

This is the NYE I thought I wanted,
not the one that actually happened.

When I was a kid, we always celebrated New Year's Eve the same way. We'd invite too many friends to comfortably fit into our too-small home, and we'd play board games and eat foods that only show up during the holiday season.

A few minutes before midnight, my mom would go into the kitchen and round up all her pots, pans, and big metal spoons. Each kid would take a "noise maker," pull on our boots and coats, and go outside to bang pots and pans. We'd yell, "Happy New Year," toot our car's horn, and wait until our next door neighbors came out to toot their car horn in reply. 

(I'm not sure why pots and pans--maybe because my family couldn't afford noise makers? Maybe just a weird tradition?)

One year, however, we did something different. My childhood church decided to have a New Year's Eve service, and the plan was to "pray our way into the New Year."

I was not impressed.

As I recall, at about 11:55 pm, I whispered to my mom, "Can I go outside and toot the car horn?" 

She said no, and I vowed never to spend another New Year's Eve in church again.

And I kept that promise for at least 35 years.

...

This year, our church announced they would be having a New Year's Eve service. I recoiled. 

No way. No thank you. I'm good.

But a small part of me wanted to go. I've felt disappointed with God the past few years, and yet my faith is the one thing that has sustained me...even when it's been as tiny as a mustard seed. I want to be more faith-filled in the coming year; I want to sense God's presence more in my life.

However, my 8-year-old did not care for the idea of going to church on NYE. And I couldn't blame him, given my own history. So we invited some family friends over, intending to have an early countdown at 10 pm for the sake of the kiddos--and the adults who aren't in their 20s anymore. 

However, the adults got carried away with a board game called Telestrations. It's a hybrid between Pictionary and the classic game of telephone that you probably played as a kid. We laughed till we cried, and oh my gosh it was so fun.

Ten o'clock approached, and we didn't realize the kiddos were vigilantly watching the clock. Jack got out the pots and pans (I had recently told him about the tradition), and the kids went outside to wish the world a Happy New Year. 

I caught the tail end of their rousing celebration, and then everyone started to pack up and leave. I completely forgot about the bubbly drink chilling on the back steps, I didn't have a chance to play "Auld Lang Syne" on Alexa, and there wasn't really a countdown.

There were no "midnight" kisses, no toasts, and no photos of everyone wearing their NYE hats and tiaras. In fact, the only selfie I took of myself with one of my friends was so ugly that I won't post it. (Lighting, people, lighting. Especially when you're starting to get neck wrinkles.)

Meanwhile, other friends were having extravagant celebrations in exotic locations, they were dining in the south of France, walking on the beach, taking gorgeous selfies of their gorgeous selves, and sharing their perfect NYE celebrations on social media.

(Perceptions. I fully realize everyone smiles for Facebook, and a happy photo can hide a thousand words.)

After our friends were gone, I scolded my son for not waiting for the adults. I told him that because he had rushed to celebrate, he and his friends had missed out on music, dancing, toasts, and drinking of the non-alcoholic bubbly.

He had been so happy before I told him what all he missed out on, and then he just felt guilty. And sad. He said, "I ruined everything."

Talk about a bad, bad, bad mom moment. 

We sat in the living room, watching the NYE shenanigans on TV, all of us feeling bad. I wanted my cute photos of our celebration! I mean, if you don't post photo-proof of your experience on social media, does it even count? Did it really happen???

I wanted a re-do. 

And then my husband announced that we were going to church. Hmmm. The service started at 10:45, and it was now nearly 11. I said that Jack would be bored, and that we were all in a bad mood. He said we were going, that it was apparent we all needed a little church. 

And so we went. 

We slipped into the pew, half an hour late. There were probably a hundred or so people gathered, and only a handful of children. They had stations set up in the sanctuary, where you were supposed to do something...to be honest I've already forgotten, but I think it was something about giving your disappointments from the previous year to God.

Whatever. I was still so mad--and I felt incredibly guilty for stealing my son's joy.

In the first 5 minutes that we were there, Jack told me at least three times that he was bored. His attitude wasn't helping my attitude, but I couldn't really blame him. It *was* a little boring for an 8-year-old. So I whispered to Ken, "Let's go."

Ken shook his head no.

Umm...what? My people-pleasing husband was telling me no?

I waited a few minutes. Again, I whispered to Ken. "Let's leave." 

He stood up, and I grabbed my hat and coat, ready to make a quiet exit. But instead of walking out, my husband was walking toward one of the stations.

Well this was awkward. So I followed him, participating but not participating.

The whole church sat in silence for several minutes. And to be honest, the silence was good for my soul. I needed that stillness to reflect. On my year, on my faith, on my disappointment both with God and how our NYE party had ended. On my selfishness, on my stupid idea that making Jack feel bad would somehow make me feel better. On my need for social media affirmation of a good time. On another holiday season with 3 of our children living 7,000 miles away.

And then we sang, in one voice. We sang praises to God. We dedicated the new year to Him. We took communion, we prayed. And with just under a minute left in 2019, we did a countdown. We hugged and we kissed. We wished each other a happy new year.

...

On the way home, Jack said he was glad we went, that although it had started out boring, that he really enjoyed himself--especially the whole church counting down. We went home, watched the ball drop (we had recorded it), and we played Auld Lang Syne on the Alexa. Ken and I danced, and Jack came over and squeezed in between us--as we like to say--like bologna between two slices of white bread.

And in that moment, we were happy. Truly happy. 

It's been a long time since I banged pots and pans on NYE. It's been even longer since I watched a new year arrive while being at church. Sometimes traditions are forgotten, replaced by the new. But sometimes things come full circle, and you can't help but be thankful. 

For your past, for today, and for new beginnings.

Happy 2020, dear friends.

My Compassionate Kid: a teaching moment

Yesterday Jack came with me to the church office and was playing while I worked. While there, a young girl (with no shoes) came to the church and asked if she could use our phone. She had just spent the night in County, was released (sans shoes), and walked a mile down County Farm Rd.until she got to our church. Her ride hadn't showed up, and she lives 10 miles away.

She called her friend, and while she waited, I got her a bottle of water and we chatted. Turns out she is 23 with 4 children, ages 7 months to 6 years old. None of the babies' daddys are supporting her or the children. She was picked up by the cops because her brother accused her of being too rough with one of his kids. She spend the night in jail, and was released on her own recognizance--with a court date sometime in the future.

Honestly, she was as sweet and polite as could be. She never asked for money (and I probably would have given her some), and she kept thanking me for use of the phone. I encouraged her as much as I could, because as I told her, those babies need her. Jack and I prayed with her, and then her ride showed up.

After she left, Jack had a lot of questions. He asked if she had been outside all night. So I explained she had actually spent the night in jail, and his eyes got as big as saucers. This girl definitely did not look like someone he imagined being in jail. Then Jack wanted to know why, so I explained that someone said she'd been too rough with a kid. Again, shock on Jack's part. You can go to jail for being too rough with a kid?! It seemed like a good teaching moment, so I talked to him about some of the foster kids we know. "You know kids who don't live with their 'real' mom and dads? Sometimes it's because their parents made bad choices. Some of the moms and dads were too rough with them. Maybe they hit them too hard. So the police said those kids can't live with their parents. They put them with foster parents, like _____ [who we know]. And they give the 'real' moms and dads a second chance to start making good decisions."

Jack's eyes well up with tears. "Will those kids go back to their 'real' parents? he asked.

"We don't know. Some will, if their parents show they can be good moms and dads. But if they don't, the kids will stay with the foster parents, and they might get adopted by them."

At this point Jack stared at the floor, biting his lip and trying not to cry. I asked him what was wrong, and he said, "I'm just so sad for my [foster care] friends."

Me, too, Jack. Me, too.

Five

He likes pancakes, strawberry smoothies, and french fries.

He loves going to school; I suspect it's mostly for the social aspect.

He never wants to lose, and he never wants you to lose. So usually he declares a tie.

He rarely will say what his favorite is in any given category--whether it's a friend, babysitter, food, or animal--he always says he likes all of them.

Except the color red. Red has been his favorite for more than two years. And his favorite cake is strawberry cake--even if he's never had it--because strawberries are red.

He's the tallest five year old in his class at preschool, Sunday School, and Cubbies.

He loves going to Cubbies and to church. For a while he would cry and throw a fit every time we tried to leave.

When I asked him earlier today if he knew his Cubbies verse, Lamentations 3:23, (Great is your faithfulness) he looked at me like I was crazy and said, "Of course, Mom. It's a song!" Then he proceeded to sing the old hymn, "Great is Thy Faithfulness" in his best opera voice. He only knows one line, but it's pretty key to the song.

I take credit for any singing ability he has. Especially in the operatic genre.

He's not very patient. Halfway through most events--a movie, the circus, a drive in the car--he'll say, "I thought we'd be home by now. Didn't you?"

He hears every single conversation I don't want him to hear, and proceeds to ask a million questions about it.

He never hears me give instructions, and will readily admit he wasn't listening when I ask him why he hasn't put his shoes on or gathered his coat and mittens or brushed his teeth.

He is the best at going to bed. He's usually asleep in five minutes or less. But he'll always ask if he can stay up a few more minutes and "cuddle," because he knows I'm a pushover for a good cuddle.

His best friends are Alex, Sammy, Claire, and Anne Marie. He's not sure if he will marry Claire or Anne Marie, but right now Anne Marie has an edge over Claire because Claire growls at him, and "it's scary."

If he could, he'd eat at McDonald's and Dunkin Donuts for every meal, every day.

He hates any food that is green, even though we make him eat something green almost every day.

Back when he was "regular four" he only liked peanut butter sandwiches, but when he turned four and a half, he started liking peanut butter AND jelly sandwiches.

He has favorite stuffed animals and he pretends they are real. Christmas Puppy, Baby Pooh, Jake, Froggie, and Little Bear. And when he sleeps with them at night, they must be lined up in that exact order. The order has something to do with size--smallest ones on the outside of the lineup, and biggest in the middle. And the smaller ones that are closest to his heart (physically speaking) are the ones that are closest to his heart (emotionally speaking). 

He is good at spelling, computer games, typing, and he can read a little. His handwriting is atrocious. He can hardly write his own name legibly, probably because he's destined to be a doctor.

However, he says he wants to be a daddy when he grows up, probably because he has such an amazing one. 

He loves to read from his Jesus Storybook Bible every night before bed, and when we write down the things we pray for, he always asks to pray about the exact same things. Every night... "That the Judge says yes. That M, M, and D come home soon. That DeeDee doesn't get no more headaches. That Mrs. Berger's leg gets better. (A lady we haven't seen in months, but she left a deep impression on him.) And that Baby Brendan and Little Allie get better soon."

He loves to be tickled. In fact, he begs to be tickled. He can't fathom why I don't enjoy it.

He has a love-hate relationship with our dog, Lucy. He is very proud of her, and he brags about her to his friends. But it bothers him that Lucy always wants to sit close to me, "in his spot." It also bothers him that Lucy can't do any tricks. I try to explain that some dogs are cute and some are smart, but he keep suggesting that she go to school.

He loves bow ties. And wearing fancy clothes. But most days you'll find him in jeans, a t-shirt, and barefoot.

He hates wearing socks. I think it's because he was born in Florida. 

The first thing he does when he gets home from being out anywhere is sit on the couch, take off his socks, and clean between his toes. Every.time. It's like his little ritual.

He says he hates baths, but he always wants to stay in the tub for a long time--usually 45 minutes or longer.

I love the way he smells when he's fresh out of the tub, with baby shampoo scent on his silky blonde hair.

When he's sick he thinks it's great fun to sleep on the couch with Mommy, in the middle of the night, despite the fact that our couch isn't that long. Or wide. And the dog usually wants to join us. Oh, and he likes to lie right on top of me. 

In those moments, I remind myself that someday soon my little boy will be a big boy and won't want to snuggle up with his mom when he's coughing or congested or has a tummy ache. And so I breathe deeply, run my fingers across his cheek, and try to soak in every moment of his 4 year old love.

He's a boy through and through. He loves trucks, cars, monster machines, robots, light sabers, farting, and making weird boy noises.

His favorite TV show is Mickey Mouse Clubhouse, even though I think he knows he's getting a little old for it.

He gets hot easily, and his cheeks flush read like his mom's, and his lily white skin easily burns in the sun. When he sweats he says he has "hot wet" on his skin.

The first thing I noticed about him when he was born was that his fingers look just like his dad's. And they still do.

His face will always tell you exactly what he's feeling.

He can't eat anything without getting it on his face. And he doesn't care.

He gets upset at injustice, but he'll readily forgive anyone who apologizes sincerely.

He has a long attention span and can play for nearly an hour by himself, making up storylines with toys that were never created to go together.

He hates coloring but he loves playing with yarn. Give him a ball of yarn and he'll be happy for the afternoon. And the house will resemble Charlotte's Web on crack.

There's so much more, but it would take forever to write everything I love about this boy. This boy who will turn five in just one more day.

Little Ones

I wrote this piece months ago, before the Enemy tried to tear my little church apart at the seams.

He wasn't successful, but we lost some people who I love and respect--friends who helped me with an all-important, God-given task.

I will always be grateful to them, and I pray they will find a new place to touch the lives of little ones.

And for those who stayed, and for those who have stepped up to meet the challenges of a church that's struggling but still breathing, I say thank you, thank you, thank you.

Everything I wrote remains true. Now, more than ever.

Click here: IT TAKES A CHURCH

100!

I got a message from a teenager at our church. He was ordering two of the Reality Check keychains (4million minus3). A teenager with a part time job. He wanted to do his part in reducing the number of orphans in Ethiopia.  And when I delivered them, he gave me a twenty dollar bill and told me to keep the change.

This will sound cheesy, but that order really touched me. He would probably be embarrassed if I mentioned his name, but he knows who he is. Thank you!

Another friend messaged me to say her pendants had arrived, and immediately her daughters put them on and were wearing them around the house.

A friend from my high school and college days donated several hundred dollars for just one pendant. I was stunned.

And a woman I met on the Mom's board on FB ordered two of our "signature" pendants "Splendor."

Two friends bought pendants last minute as birthday gifts for family members, and a family member stocked up on them so she'll have Christmas gifts to give her coworkers.

A young mother who I knew when she was FIVE YEARS OLD (I know, hard to believe I'm that old) not only bought some pendants but is donating hand-made earrings for me to sell!

I wish I could share all the stories. Each and every sale, each and every prayer, is so greatly appreciated. We couldn't do this without you.

I've just totaled the number of sales we've had, and we're at 100 pendants sold! ONE HUNDRED. That's a lot. My niece, Melissa, ordered 97, 98, and 99. It was not intentional on her part to be the hundreth; I believe it was more a matter of procrastination. Regardless, to celebrate this milestone, Melissa will get one free pendant of her choice. (Send me a message, Melissa!)

SNEAK PEEK
The response to these simple pendants has been so overwhelming that we've decided to expand our inventory and sell them at our church's Fall Festival on September 13 in Winfield.

Our local artisan (I love using that word, if you haven't noticed) is providing SEVENTY-FIVE completely unique, one-of-a kind pendants. You guys, they are so amazing. There are different colors, shapes, and themes for whatever your interest is.

Here is a sneak peek at just a few of the many choices that will be available.

 Don't you just love the "courage" one? It would be such a lovely gift for someone who is facing a difficult time. It could easily be adapted to a key chain if the person isn't into jewelry. The multi-colored heart would be so sweet on a young girl--perhaps a reminder gift of how proud you are of her.

A few more:

Does anyone else LOVE the bronze/black sunshine? I love how organic and earthy it is. It would look great with a black top.

Here are four more that I am crazy about:

I have a friend who loves the color red. And with her golden brown skin and dark hair, she looks great in it. I chose several red pendants for her to choose from.

And if you are a fan of snow like me, you'll like the beautiful snowflake pendants. This one is in a crisp blue, but I have a few others in other shapes and sizes.

The brown square pendant on the far right...wouldn't it be perfect for a fall outfit? It has autumn written all over it.

We also have a teddy bear, a football, a smiley face, a butterfly, and many, many more.

Please come out to the Fall Festival if you're interested in any of these pendants. There will also be an antique car show, bounce houses, a petting zoo, and pony rides. And food. Delicious food. Because we're Baptist and Baptists like to eat.

And if you'd like to purchase any of the original pendants, we have about 20 of each available. I put in a rush order, and they are ready to be packaged and shipped.

Lastly, if you already received a pendant and it arrived broken, PLEASE let me know. I've only had one report of that so far, but I really want to know so I can do better with the packaging as well as replace the damaged items.

Thanks again! See you at the Fall Festival!

Luann

Bunny Ears and Spring Snow

I'm sitting in my sunroom, on a completely sun-less day, watching my son eat dirty snow off the slide in our backyard. After teasing us with 80-degree temps on Saturday, I guess Mother Nature wanted one last laugh.







 
This morning we went to an Easter egg hunt at our local library. It's actually one town over, and it's much smaller than our town's library.

On our way to the Hunt. Jack was out of his mind with joy at thought of
hunting for EGGS!

"Give me some EGGS, Mom!"

Because of the smaller size of the library, they are able to really connect with the kids. Ms. Nuccia has storytime every Monday morning for the kids, and she is an absolute delight. She is originally from Italy, and just a hint of an accent makes her voice a tantalizing treat to listen to.

Jack and Ms. Nuccia

Our little friends Alex and Claire join us for storytime each week, and they also went to the Hunt this morning.

"Ok guys, here's the deal: Look for eggs, and put them in your bucket."

I am slightly amused and slightly frustrated that for some strange reason, Jack consistently calls them by the wrong name. He calls Alex Claire and Claire Alex. Actually, he doesn't even call her Alex. He calls her Alice, which makes me laugh out loud every.single.time.

Look! Alice found a blue egg!

"I see it, Mom, but I can't reach it!"

Claire Joy, looking a bit suspicious of the event.

Yes, Heather and I bought them matching bunny ears. And yes, the boy ears had blue sequins.

And, no they didn't stay on very well. They were from the Dollar Store.

As my sister Melody would say, the quality there is a bit lacking...but the prices are pretty good.

Jack had a fabulous time with his bff's...

He was so happy and content and excited...until Claire...

...realized how fun it is to dump the bucket of eggs on the floor.

This did not please Jack. This did not please him at all. That's not how you do it, Claire!

Caught in the act.

Still, all in all a fun time was had, and Jack is anxiously looking forward to another Hunt at our house this weekend. I'm trying to teach him about the REALLY important thing that happened on Easter, but candy.... Jesus? Candy. Candy in the eggs, Mom! [sigh]

...

A few days ago, while talking excitedly with Ken about the Egg Hunt and who would be there, Jack suddenly got a sad look on his face. Ken asked what was wrong. Jack said, "I'm sad, Daddy." Ken asked why, and Jack said, "Because my sister in Ethriopila can't come to the Egg Hunt."

That makes me sad, too, Jack. 

But the way you pronounce Ethiopia? That makes my heart smile.

Good Stuff, Gross Stuff

Please Note: At the end of this post there is a picture of something really, really gross. If you are currently eating, have a squeamish tummy, or are easily grossed out, please do not view it. I will give you another warning before it appears.
 
A few days ago I shared a funny dream I had. My little guy, unfortunately, does not have funny dreams--at least not that he remembers and shares. He does have some bad ones, though, and he wakes up crying in the night. It doesn't happen very often, but when it does, it breaks my heart.

It's nice that he's able to verbalize now, so I can comfort him appropriately. One night he dreamed he had left a hot dog in the minivan, and apparently this was quite upsetting. I assured him quickly that we had plenty of hot dogs--in the fridge, and there weren't any in the van.

Another dream, that really was sad, was that he had lost all his friends. I reminded him that his friends were all in their homes, in their beds, sleeping. He quickly fell back asleep.

I keep thinking about that dream though. Friends are very, very important to Jack. And we're blessed because he has some really awesome friends in several different spheres of his life. No wonder he would be sad if he lost them!

Recently our friends invited us to the zoo. They receive season's passes from their grandma for Christmas--what a great gift idea!

 I sure did miss my niece Savannah when I saw this sign. Hopefully some day she can join us!

Jack was very interested in this evolution propaganda. I think it was the slidey thing more than the actual content.

Aren't they a lovely family?

..

We've also been enjoying the sand table that Ken built in our backyard, as well as the swingset. Yesterday was a gorgeous day, so in spite of terrible allergens floating everywhere, we went outside for some fun in the sun.

He's really almost too big for the slide, but the rest of the swingset is just right for him.

 Enjoying the view from the shade of our patio.

Ok, but then things got a little gross. And by little, I actually mean a lot. I was walking around the yard, admiring all the tulip and daffodil shoots, when suddenly I came upon something that stopped me in my tracks. Apparently something else was also stopped in its tracks.





This is where you should stop reading if you are squeamish.








No seriously. Stop.




If you don't stop reading, and you throw up in your mouth, or have to make a run for the bathroom, don't blame me.






You've been warned.



Ready? If you're still reading, you're about to see something ... ummm ... very *natural.* I don't know what exactly it is, but I have my suspicions.




I'm only posting it in the hopes that someone can shed light on it's origin ... and it's untimely end. And why it was left.



Last chance, folks. It's coming.




Here it is. Nestled in the grass, a thing-a-ma-jig, approximately 8 inches in diameter.

And here's another shot, blown up so you can see all the ... contents.

Ken was kind enough to dispose of it before our dog found it. I would LOVE to hear your thoughts on what you think it is, and how it came to be in this state, in our yard.

Thanks for reading. Enjoy your next meal...


:)
Luann

It Won't Be Long Now...

Last week I wrote about looking for signs of spring, and I'm happy to report I found them. Last Friday the temperature got up to nearly 60 degrees, and it felt hot as a summer day in July. (Strange how when I lived in Florida, 60 seemed so cold.)

Jack and I were traipsing around the backyard (picking up dog poop, if you really want to know), when I came across these gems. They grow right in the middle of the (mostly dead) grass, and I have no idea what they are. But I'll take them. Aren't they pretty? I'm sure it's a sign...it won't be long now until spring is really here.

  



We also found these bright green stalks coming up through the dead leaves. They looked so pretty with the sun shining on them.




Lucy had a nice romp around the yard, and before long, she and Jack were sitting on the stairs together.

OK, that's not entirely true. Jack was sitting on the step, because I told him to sit for a picture, and then we corralled Lucy and held her down. Jack and Lucy have a "strained" relationship. Jack loves Lucy...but I think Lucy still holds a grudge about the time Jack pulled her down the stairs by her tail.

And the time he tried to stuff her in a paper sack.



We also had a visit from our little red-headed friend last week. Gracie is the daughter of one of my friends from middle school. I am so jealous of her ginger ringlets and clear blue eyes.



The three of us went to Hobby Lobby, and the kids got to pick out a little something to buy. There was a sale, and I had coupons. First Gracie wanted some big metal keys. So Jack wanted big metal keys. Then Gracie changed her mind. She wanted a craft. Jack still wanted to the big metal keys, but he also needed a craft. I finally got him (forced him) to give up the big metal keys, because what on earth was he going to do with big metal keys that are a purely decorative item? There were many tears, but then Grace found a blue Easter bunny she wanted instead of the craft. And then Jack forgot about the big metal keys and also wanted a blue bunny.  [sigh]

Unfortunately, we only saw one blue bunny. Jack didn't want a yellow bunny. He didn't want a pink bunny. Or a green one. Reluctantly, and graciously, Gracie offered to let him have the blue bunny. She would get a different color. But I think we all know what would've happened if she had done that. Suddenly, Jack would've wanted the alternate color. Thankfully, we dug through the bin of bunnies, and Gracie found another blue! So Jack was blissful instead of blue. That afternoon, they both snuggled on the couch with their respective bunnies. Seriously, the softest stuffed animals ever, and pretty cute, too.

 

See the little peacock pillow behind the dog? I made that. I love the fabric. (I designed my whole living room around a picture of a peacock, but I'll save that story for another day.)  Sadly,the pillow, and it's matching counterpart, are very lumpy. I didn't want to over-stuff them, but I couldn't get the filling to behave. Any pillow makers out there know where I went wrong? I am open to opening them and refilling. I think it might be the quality/consistency of the stuffing? It was a polyester something or another.

...

To celebrate the warm weather last week, we decided to barbecue burgers and buy a swing set. I got out the grill, the charcoal, and had the meat ready to make into patties. Just before Ken got home from work, I went out to start the grill. Alas, we were out of lighter fluid! So sad. Instead we went to Jack Straw's a take out hamburger joint in downtown Wheaton. It was our first time there. The burgers were greasy, big, and delish. The fries were salty, greasy, and fried to perfection.

I felt like I needed a digestive cleanse when we were done.

Ken says we are definitely going back.

We had more success with the swing set than the barbequing. I saw a used swing set on Craig's List, but it was on the small side...and used. I emailed the lady, found out she lived nearby and the set was only a year old. But the price wasn't low enough for me to justify getting a used, small, swing set. So we ordered a fairly big metal set from Menards. It was on clearance, but the website said our local store had them in stock.

The next day, the Craig's List lady emailed me to say she decided to cut her price in half(!) I was kinda sad we had ordered the set from Menards. But then, I got an email from Menards. They were out of stock on the set, and they were CANCELLING my order! They said I could get one from another Menards, but they couldn't transfer from one store to another.

It seemed like divine intervention. To make a long story short, we went with the smaller, used set. It's a perfect size for Jack and some of his little pals, and in a couple years when it's all rusted out he'll be ready for something bigger. Plus we saved more than a hundred bucks by going used.

Ken went to the people's house, disassembled the set, loaded it in our minivan (love how much stuff fits in that thing), brought it home, reassembled it, and wa-lah... Jack's dream come true!



 

Seriously, could that slide be any smaller? I have a feeling it will turn into a launching pad for stunts, or something of the like.

Now if we could get some more warm weather (it was 20 last night and more snow tonight), little Jack-Jack could actually play on it.
...

Every night after dinner, Ken and Jack have playtime. They usually play Hide-n-Seek, Quick Hide--the Giants are Coming, or some sort of shadow game with a flashlight. Tonight they did a craft, with only a teeny tiny bit of supervision from mom. (i.e. "Here's the glue, the paper, the cotton, the stickers, put them here, no not there, etc.")

While they made Noah's Ark and pasted in the animals, Ken told Jack the story. It was pretty neat that when we bought this kit last week, we had no idea Jack would be learning about Noah in Cubbies the very next day. So he got a double dose of Noah, which I think made it more interesting for him.

 

I absolutely love watching my boys play and work together. Ken didn't have much experience with kids when we got married, but he is so patient and kind with Jackson. A few days ago I asked Jack, "What is the name of one of your friends?" He looked at me like I was crazy and said, "Uhhh, Daddy!" But of course. I asked him the same thing later in the day, and once again he confirmed that daddy is his bff.
 

 

I was washing the dishes and cleaning up from dinner while they worked on their project, and my favorite moment was when Jack dropped the glue stick and shrieked, "CATASTROPHE!" Seriously, where does my kid get this stuff? Six months ago he could hardly talk!

Here is the almost-finished project. I was sternly told not to look yet, because "it isn't done, Mom!" But I snuck a few pictures anyway.


 

 ...

Before I sign off, a bit of a housekeeping item: A few Facebook friends have left comments and/or sent messages to me and Ken expressing concern about the breaking of my FB fast. They wondered if I had gone back on my word--because they saw a link to my blog on their FB newsfeed.

Oh dear friends. I thank you for your concern about the state of my soul, but as I mentioned in the aforementioned blog, this blog can post automatically to FB with a simple click of a button. I get comments emailed to me.

The good news is that if I should I find myself falling into dire sin of the "break my fast" sort or any other unthinkable evil acts, I will now know who to call upon to set my crooked path straight.

 Looking forward to spring~

-Luann