Tuesday, June 16, 2009

NOT a Fruit of the Spirit Lesson

Remember how I stated my Fruits of the Spirit Lessons would appear here each Monday?

Well, apparently I wanted everyone to practice a bit of patience and wait until Tuesday to read this week's lesson. Bear with me, my lesson on "Love" will pop up here later this afternoon.

In the meantime, allow me to fill this space with details of the past day or so. Saturday evening Isaac woke me from a deep state of slumber to inform me his throat hurt. Silent little alarms went off in the back of my head, but my need to snuggle back down under my cozy red sheets shushed said alarms. I simply walked Isaac back to his room, fixed his covers, and bid him good-night.

Thirty minutes later he woke me up by throwing up in my hands.

Being a Mommy is beyond glamorous some days, huh?

Seems his tummy issues were a one-round occurrence and he was his normal perky self the next morning.

Our Monday morning started with a rousing game of "Baby Doll", a new favorite (of the children...not of the parents) that involves pulling out almost every toy owned and creating a house. This game entertains for hours, however the clean-up is brutal. After a rousing round on Sunday, I discovered all the spoons from our silverware drawer had joined in on the fun while yesterday it was my library book and alarm clock that was needed to complete the "house."

After cleaning up "Baby Doll" and eating lunch at 10:40am (which completely confused everyone), we threw on the swimsuits and slathered on the SPS 95 and set out for our first day of swimming lessons. The two are taking private lessons in a backyard pool in a neighboring suburb (this the reason for the early lunch...we had to figure in some extra drive time). We have been prepping them for this experience because swimming lessons do not come cheap and I wanted to make sure every dime we spent was worth it.

Isaac and Evelyn got into the pool like pros, immediately talking at their normal speed of 76 MPH to their teacher they had just met. I sat on the sidelines and breathed a tiny sigh of relief over: A. There were no tears or protests and B. Someone else's ears could entertain the chatter for 30 minutes as opposed to mine.

(BTW...remember how terribly precious a child's first words are? Then remember how those first words quickly turn into the ability to have a heated discussion with their sibling about which state you live in, which is not quite so precious? )

(Isaac can correctly identify his home state, Evelyn argues that she lives in my parents' home state, and they both claim various friends either live in Oklahoma or Maine. Thus the heated debate.)

Swimming lessons went swimmingly (how could I not use such an adjective in this context??) and both kids practiced their stroke, jumped from the side, and went under water several times (Isaac is not a fan of going underwater. His parents are not a fan of him one day being in sixth grade and still scared of submerging his head into the pool.). At one point Evelyn fell off the pool steps and into the deeper water while waiting her turn. I simply scooped her up and plopped her back on the step. She started gleefully yelling, "Ms Karen! I fall! I fall!" I think this mishap was her favorite part of the lesson. She is a water-baby just like her mom.

Last night I abandoned the family for some time with two of my four college roomies. Our lil Laura is moving out-of-state (not to Maine or Oklahoma) and we had a mini-roomie Going Away Party for her (one roomie could not attend due to a sick child and the other could not attend due to the fact she is giving birth today). We had a great time feasting on Mexican food, shopping for dresses in various shades of navy, and rehashing all the college fun and antics yet again. This coming October is our ten year college reunion and we began making elaborate plans to attend (did you hear that Kara? Leigh Ann?).

There is rumor that we may get to go visit the old house we lived in at 1017 Washington Blvd. It is currently occupied by girls (boys lived there for years after we moved out...boys who most likely did not appreciate the kitchen we wallpapered nor the cabinet pulls we cleverly painted green). I am sure the Junior-aged girls would like nothing more than a bunch of thirty+ year old women to invade their house and talk about the times they had there, being sure to tell the Tish wig stories and 911 call reenactment no less than seven times before leaving.

In summary, the Fruit of the Spirit is lesson is coming. Eventually.

Just be patient, my friends.

No comments: