Marta Style
This is the way to eat- in your pajamas, with crazy hair and your foot on the table! Marta's motto- be comfortable!
Saturday, September 30, 2006
Monday, September 25, 2006
Girls Night Out
I have never in my life gone camping- until this year. O.k. - maybe it wasn't really camping. I did roast hot dogs and marshmallows over a fire and sleep in a tent. The tent was in somebody's backyard, and I did use their bathroom- I don't know if I could survive REAL camping. Sleeping on the ground is painful to be quite honest and the huge spider that I found in my tent in the morning makes me reluctant to ever sleep in a tent again, but maybe.....
It was definitely fun. Sixteen girls, five tents, a huge bonfire, tasty treats, singing, stories, testimonies ....all that was great......but the giant spider....he was not my friend. That's why I smashed him with my shoe after I screamed and completely frightened the other girls in my tent. And I was the older, twenty-something girl, the one who was supposed to be a good example in front of the teenagers. Right. First I freak them out because of a bug, then I dramatically murder one of God's creatures with my tennis shoe..... but I really am quite mature. Although I totally failed at game time. I could not run for long...I was wimpy. I could not be a part of the BLOB. I could not keep up with the young girls. I was seriously out of breath and had to sit down during the next game.
But again, it was fun. Hanging out with all those girls, eating, talking, laughing, just being together as sisters in Christ- it really was a blessing to me. And maybe if we decide to do it again next year, I'll try it once more- but if any spiders come near me, I will not show mercy on them.....and I might take an air mattress.
My favorite quote from the camp out:
"We are just...so....GIRLS!"
This quote took place when we were trying to properly take down all the tents.
Thursday, September 21, 2006
A Zavier Moment
I talked to Zavier this week on the phone. As always, he was very talkative. He told me about his new school and how this one boy was mean to him; he talked about pirates and vikings and was both of them at different times in the conversation. He "showed" me his pirate sword- he always "shows" me something during our conversations-
"look at this- see it?" And he asked me to come over on Saturday- he's very hospitable, but still doesn't understand that I can't just stop by anytime.
In response to this delightful phone conversation, I decided it was about time to blog another Zavier story.
So here is a classic from 3 years ago.......
It started out to be a fairly regular Saturday for me. I slept in a bit and spent some time at the mall, and then received a phone call to babysit that evening. No problem! Babysitting is one of my favorite things to do because I just love kids! So, I rushed home to gather some things and then set off to an evening in Munchkinland.
The munchkin in this instance was my personal favorite- my little blue-eyed, blond-headed Zavier. The 18 month old youngster greeted me in a normal fashion- mouth running a mile a minute (though not much discernable speech was exiting the cute, little mouth), arms waving wildly to add to the discussion, and even a hug and kiss as a bonus. After bidding farewell to mom and dad, we settled down for an evening of fun.
We played for a while- toddler toys are very exciting, you know- made a short trip to Walmart, and then came back to get ready for supper.
It was at this time that I noticed Zavier on the kitchen floor in a rather unusual position. His hands and feet were on the floor, but his knees were in the air, and his body was turned slightly toward me. The look on his face was also strange. It was a mixture of pain, frustration and confusion. One word came to my mind- potty! His mom had told me that he had used the potty just the week before. It was the first stages of potty training, and I was there in the midst of the adventure. Here was my opportunity to help the diapered child progress toward the land of Scooby Doo and Spiderman underwear. I knew I had to do my part, so I grabbed the strangely-posed child and headed for mom and dad's bathroom, where the new magic potty, which plays music when you use it, awaited him.
My benevolent efforts were most unfortunately too late. To my dismay, when I removed the diaper, it was already full and the little bottom itself was extremely dirty. Regardless, I sat him on the potty, hoping that maybe he was not yet finished. He just sat there looking at me like I was insane. Perhaps the running through the house to the little potty had startled him a bit.
As he sat there, I looked around the bathroom and realized that there was another problem. There were no babywipes or diapers in this bathroom. I knew that toilet paper was not going to clean up that bottom, so I quickly made a rather risky decision. Telling the boy to stay where he was, I ran through the bedroom, living room and up the stairs and into the nursery, seized a diaper and some wipes and headed back down the stairs. It was as I was descending the stairs that I saw him. At the edge of the living room, outside the bedroom door stood the blond boy with the naked bottom. He looked at me and grinned as I yelled for him to get back in the bathroom. He laughed mishieviously while turning and running, with me not far behind. I was close enough to him to see something small and brown escape the dirty rear and land on mommy and daddy's light beige bedroom carpet. He turned and looked at me because I was yelling again, this time about how I was going to get fired.
Well, the little bottom finally was cleaned (although the shower rug became smeared in the process of trying to hold the boy still), and a new diaper was applied. The Spiderman underwear somehow did not appear as close now. The shower rug was sprayed with Shout and deposited in the laundry room to await further cleaning, and stain remover took care of the bedroom carpet.
I was finally able to eat supper. By this time we were both famished. But the evening was far from over. We still had a good 2 hours before bedtime.
I began to clean up the kitchen as Zavier played with his toys in the living room. He kept running into the kitchen to show me one thing or another or to wrap his arms around my legs. His little eyes told me to come and play too, and I, of course, gave in. It was during our playtime that the next mishap occured. We were laughing and having a wonderful chase through the living room, when suddenly the floor decided to be rude and whack Zavier in the face. Needless to say, this produced some genuine tears and 2 bloody lips. Immediately, I scooped the boy up and ran up the stairs to get a washcloth. I deposited my teary bundle on the bathroom sink, and he settled down while chewing on the cold washcloth. The blood took its sweet time slowing down, which seemed to concern me more than it did him. He was soon ready to get down and play.
Once the flow of blood had given way to a puffy, bruised looking lip, we went back downstairs. I put the injured child down amidst the toys and went to the kitchen to call my mom. I had to talk to someone about the evening's traumas. The phone was busy, so I placed it back on the counter. As I turned around, I found my little charge standing right behind me. Instead of holding a toy, he held one of my sandals. He raised it up with an earnest look on his face, as if he wanted to tell me something. I looked at the shoe questioningly and noticed a little pool of liquid that I immediately recognized as baby puke. Upon further inspection, I found that there happened to be no trace of nasty throw up on the child's clothes and none on the floor- it was only on my shoe. I stood there in sheer awe, wondering how many other bodily fluids could possibly come out of such a small body in such a messy way, all in one evening.
I took the shoe and cleaned it off, then tried to call my mother again to no avail. So I called my grandma instead. I had to talk to somebody else in the world to make sure that this was not some really weird dream.
I soon thereafter took the young one upstairs, dressed him in pajamas, tucked him in bed and sang him to sleep. I stood watching him sleep and smiled at the big, ugly lip that could not hide the angelic sweetness of his little face. I was exhausted and ready to head to bed myself. It had been a long evening, but even though I had dealt with messy poop and bloody lips and smelly throw up all in a matter of a few short hours, I knew that I would not trade that night with the blond-headed boy for anything- not even a new pair of shoes.
I talked to Zavier this week on the phone. As always, he was very talkative. He told me about his new school and how this one boy was mean to him; he talked about pirates and vikings and was both of them at different times in the conversation. He "showed" me his pirate sword- he always "shows" me something during our conversations-
"look at this- see it?" And he asked me to come over on Saturday- he's very hospitable, but still doesn't understand that I can't just stop by anytime.
In response to this delightful phone conversation, I decided it was about time to blog another Zavier story.
So here is a classic from 3 years ago.......
It started out to be a fairly regular Saturday for me. I slept in a bit and spent some time at the mall, and then received a phone call to babysit that evening. No problem! Babysitting is one of my favorite things to do because I just love kids! So, I rushed home to gather some things and then set off to an evening in Munchkinland.
The munchkin in this instance was my personal favorite- my little blue-eyed, blond-headed Zavier. The 18 month old youngster greeted me in a normal fashion- mouth running a mile a minute (though not much discernable speech was exiting the cute, little mouth), arms waving wildly to add to the discussion, and even a hug and kiss as a bonus. After bidding farewell to mom and dad, we settled down for an evening of fun.
We played for a while- toddler toys are very exciting, you know- made a short trip to Walmart, and then came back to get ready for supper.
It was at this time that I noticed Zavier on the kitchen floor in a rather unusual position. His hands and feet were on the floor, but his knees were in the air, and his body was turned slightly toward me. The look on his face was also strange. It was a mixture of pain, frustration and confusion. One word came to my mind- potty! His mom had told me that he had used the potty just the week before. It was the first stages of potty training, and I was there in the midst of the adventure. Here was my opportunity to help the diapered child progress toward the land of Scooby Doo and Spiderman underwear. I knew I had to do my part, so I grabbed the strangely-posed child and headed for mom and dad's bathroom, where the new magic potty, which plays music when you use it, awaited him.
My benevolent efforts were most unfortunately too late. To my dismay, when I removed the diaper, it was already full and the little bottom itself was extremely dirty. Regardless, I sat him on the potty, hoping that maybe he was not yet finished. He just sat there looking at me like I was insane. Perhaps the running through the house to the little potty had startled him a bit.
As he sat there, I looked around the bathroom and realized that there was another problem. There were no babywipes or diapers in this bathroom. I knew that toilet paper was not going to clean up that bottom, so I quickly made a rather risky decision. Telling the boy to stay where he was, I ran through the bedroom, living room and up the stairs and into the nursery, seized a diaper and some wipes and headed back down the stairs. It was as I was descending the stairs that I saw him. At the edge of the living room, outside the bedroom door stood the blond boy with the naked bottom. He looked at me and grinned as I yelled for him to get back in the bathroom. He laughed mishieviously while turning and running, with me not far behind. I was close enough to him to see something small and brown escape the dirty rear and land on mommy and daddy's light beige bedroom carpet. He turned and looked at me because I was yelling again, this time about how I was going to get fired.
Well, the little bottom finally was cleaned (although the shower rug became smeared in the process of trying to hold the boy still), and a new diaper was applied. The Spiderman underwear somehow did not appear as close now. The shower rug was sprayed with Shout and deposited in the laundry room to await further cleaning, and stain remover took care of the bedroom carpet.
I was finally able to eat supper. By this time we were both famished. But the evening was far from over. We still had a good 2 hours before bedtime.
I began to clean up the kitchen as Zavier played with his toys in the living room. He kept running into the kitchen to show me one thing or another or to wrap his arms around my legs. His little eyes told me to come and play too, and I, of course, gave in. It was during our playtime that the next mishap occured. We were laughing and having a wonderful chase through the living room, when suddenly the floor decided to be rude and whack Zavier in the face. Needless to say, this produced some genuine tears and 2 bloody lips. Immediately, I scooped the boy up and ran up the stairs to get a washcloth. I deposited my teary bundle on the bathroom sink, and he settled down while chewing on the cold washcloth. The blood took its sweet time slowing down, which seemed to concern me more than it did him. He was soon ready to get down and play.
Once the flow of blood had given way to a puffy, bruised looking lip, we went back downstairs. I put the injured child down amidst the toys and went to the kitchen to call my mom. I had to talk to someone about the evening's traumas. The phone was busy, so I placed it back on the counter. As I turned around, I found my little charge standing right behind me. Instead of holding a toy, he held one of my sandals. He raised it up with an earnest look on his face, as if he wanted to tell me something. I looked at the shoe questioningly and noticed a little pool of liquid that I immediately recognized as baby puke. Upon further inspection, I found that there happened to be no trace of nasty throw up on the child's clothes and none on the floor- it was only on my shoe. I stood there in sheer awe, wondering how many other bodily fluids could possibly come out of such a small body in such a messy way, all in one evening.
I took the shoe and cleaned it off, then tried to call my mother again to no avail. So I called my grandma instead. I had to talk to somebody else in the world to make sure that this was not some really weird dream.
I soon thereafter took the young one upstairs, dressed him in pajamas, tucked him in bed and sang him to sleep. I stood watching him sleep and smiled at the big, ugly lip that could not hide the angelic sweetness of his little face. I was exhausted and ready to head to bed myself. It had been a long evening, but even though I had dealt with messy poop and bloody lips and smelly throw up all in a matter of a few short hours, I knew that I would not trade that night with the blond-headed boy for anything- not even a new pair of shoes.
Wednesday, September 20, 2006
God Provides!
All of the money needed to adopt Chloe has come in! It's so exciting to see the way God works in people's lives. And even though I don't personally know this family, I am truly happy for them as a brother and sister in Christ. I'm sure that while they are a blessing to little Chloe, she will be a blessing to them. Praise the Lord for His wonderful provision!
All of the money needed to adopt Chloe has come in! It's so exciting to see the way God works in people's lives. And even though I don't personally know this family, I am truly happy for them as a brother and sister in Christ. I'm sure that while they are a blessing to little Chloe, she will be a blessing to them. Praise the Lord for His wonderful provision!
Sunday, September 17, 2006
A Girl named Chloe
Normally I just post stories about my crazy children on this blog, purely for the enjoyment of the readers and so that I can share what's going on in my life. In this post I would like to share something else that has recently come to my attention. A friend at church has been in contact with a family in Florida who is trying to adopt a little girl. They have previously adopted 3 children and believe that little Chloe belongs in their family, too. They have been faithfully praying about the situation and are waiting for God's will to be done with Chloe and with their family.
Global Grace Missions is a ministry of my church, and we are trying to help the Murschell family. We believe that God wants us to minister to the poor and the fatherless (James 1:27), and it is our desire to help Chloe physically and spiritually. Please visit the following site to read more about Chloe and the Murschell family:
< a href = "http://www.globalgracemissions.org/blog/chloe.html" target = "_blank"> link
Normally I just post stories about my crazy children on this blog, purely for the enjoyment of the readers and so that I can share what's going on in my life. In this post I would like to share something else that has recently come to my attention. A friend at church has been in contact with a family in Florida who is trying to adopt a little girl. They have previously adopted 3 children and believe that little Chloe belongs in their family, too. They have been faithfully praying about the situation and are waiting for God's will to be done with Chloe and with their family.
Global Grace Missions is a ministry of my church, and we are trying to help the Murschell family. We believe that God wants us to minister to the poor and the fatherless (James 1:27), and it is our desire to help Chloe physically and spiritually. Please visit the following site to read more about Chloe and the Murschell family:
< a href = "http://www.globalgracemissions.org/blog/chloe.html" target = "_blank"> link
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