200

Congratulate me: this is my 200th post. You may have noticed that it's been more than a week since my last post. That's because The Last Day of School happened. Now, the older two are not in school and the baby is not sleeping, so I do not have time to blog.

The last day of school was fun. This year, after the school-wide picnic, the classes rotated together through several games--they called it HES Survivor. Very nicely done.

The day after the last day of school was my birthday. We had a party to celebrate, and I've included some pictures:

There was eating,

and tree-climbing.There were presents,and we had a bonfirewith s'mores, of course (notice the product placement--this is actually only half of the s'mores consumed that night, and believe it or not, I have seen more than this set up at one time before...) There was bike-riding (and crashing),and tractor riding, too. Notice that the boys are heavily armed, just in case some bad guys jump out of the woods.
There was, however, no cake, and no "Happy Birthday" singing, hence, no pictures of such.
All in all, it was a great time. I hear that we're going to do it again next year.

You know how some mommies complain that they can't go to the bathroom by themselves anymore? Well, my precious Bubbalicious has taken it one step further. I can't take a shower by myself anymore (that is, unless I want to listen to a Bubby crying and trying to open the shower door for the duration). And the Bubby (he's so special), likes to center himself over the drain...right in the middle of the shower floor.

Grilled Chicken Caesar Salad

We tried this when we went camping over Memorial Day weekend, and Code-man and Logo have both asked for it since--amazing (they rarely like the same things).

1/2 c. Kraft Classic Caesar or Ranch dressing, divided
1 lb. boneless, skinless chicken breasts, cut into bite sized pieces (we used 20 oz.)
4 thick slices Italian bread (I think we used French)
1 clove garlic, peeled, cut in half
1 T olive oil
6 c. torn romaine lettuce
3 T grated parmesan cheese

Pour 2 T dressing over chicken in resealable plastic bag. Seal bag; turn to coat chicken with dressing. Refrigerate 30 min. to marinate (since we were camping, I froze it at this point to marinate while it thawed in the cooler).

Heat grill to medium heat. Remove chicken from marinade; discard marinade. Thread chicken onto 4 (we used 6) skewers. Grill 6 to 8 min. or until done, turning occasionally. Add bread to grill; cook 1 min on each side or until toasted on both sides. Rub toast with garlic; brush with oil.

Arrange toast and lettuce on platter; drizzle with remaining dressing. Top with chicken skewers and parm. cheese.

There you go: a delicious, balanced, fast, easy to prepare, inexpensive meal. Yum.

My birthday

The boys (sans Caleb) went camping this weekend and tell me they had a good time. I saw the forecast (high of 50 and rainy all day) and decided to opt out of this one. They say they went on lots of hikes and checked out the river. Unfortunately, they forgot the camera, so you'll just have to imagine them exploring caves, standing on bluffs, climbing cliffs, etc.

So guess what I'm doing for my birthday! It's going to be so much fun! I'm having several of my oldest son's best friends over for a sleepover/camp-out. And they're going to bring presents--for him. We're going to eat brats and green stuff (when Cody said he wanted "green stuff," I thought, wow, the kid wants to serve vegetables at his party. It was a proud mommy moment, until I realized that he really wanted that pistachio fluff stuff) and have a bonfire (if it ever stops raining) and eat 4 s'mores each (that's what Code-man tells me, anyway). I'm sure we'll all drink at least two cans of sugary soda, too (well, all of us, except for me, of course). And we're going to ride our bikes and squirt each other with water guns. Maybe I'll even splurge and get some water balloons. And we'll stay up late (again, except for me) making lots and lots of noise. It's going to be great!

In control, part 2

So yesterday I was blogging about being in control, or at least thinking that we're in control, and I wanted to expand on that just a little bit. So many of us like to be in control, if not of everything, than of as much as possible. One of my best friends is getting a crash course right now in realizing that she can't control everything, and it's kind of tough on her--she's a structured, scheduled, planning type of girl. But I am reminded that trying to maintain our control, or our illusion of control, can be exhausting, especially when, as things do, everything starts falling apart.


Jesus said, "Come to me, all you who are weary and burdened, and I will give you rest." (Matthew 11:28) My friends, it's not just that you're not in control, but you can give it all up, your need to think you're in control, give it to Jesus, and rest in him. Rest. What a precious gift.

For Chip (aka D)

Just in case you think it's a little geeky of me to make a venn diagram of our children and their cousins, I would like to point out that at least one other math-minded person in the family thought about it, too, and my brother was figuring probabilities of 5 boys and 7 boys in one family. So, I guess my point is, I'm not the only one!

In control

I made BLTs for dinner last night--I was inspired by the "what's for dinner tonight" feature in our local grocery store. I was so impressed with myself for actually cooking a meal for the family while Hubby was out of town. Everything was going well: I put Logo in charge of cutting the tomatoes and Code-man was handling the toast. Everything was well in control, and then, I realized I had forgotten to put the grease catcher onto the griddle and the bacon grease was pouring out onto the top of the stove. The gas stove, of course! Ug.

How many times in our lives do we think everything's going well, everything's well in control and then we realize it's not? I think the flaw in our thinking is that we think we have everything under control. When you think about it, how much in our lives is really in our control? Not a whole lot. We can only control our reaction to our circumstances, not the circumstances themselves.

In the past few months I've had two friends comment to me that while life is good, they'd been having emotional difficulties because it just wasn't what they had envisioned. We all do that: we dream and set goals and think, next week, next month, next year, next decade, this is what I'm going to be doing, what my life will look like. And that is for sure not a bad thing to do. I'm sure we've all heard that saying, "if you aim at nothing, you're sure to hit it." The problem comes when we shift from knowing that God is in control to thinking that we are, that we can be. And after we make that shift, we start to put our confidence in our plans, rather than where it should be, in the loving hands and loving plans of God.

The earth is the Lord's, and all its fullness, The world and those who dwell therein.

Psalm 24:1

Inventory

I inventoried our children's clothes. I went through all of the boxes (of which there are quite a few) and counted and wrote down how many of each type of each size of clothing we have from 3T up to 16. I then put all the information into a table in Microsoft Word. Is that a bit excessive? Am I a little nuts? Well, yes and yes, I think.

Let me tell you why I did this. By now you know that I hate to waste money and I hate to pay full price for anything, so any time I'm in a clothing store, I check out the clearance racks. I also go to thrift shops, and the occasional garage sale. And I'll be standing there, and there will be, for instance, T-shirts for $1. And I'll think to myself, now what sizes of T-shirts do we need more of? And I won't know. So I either won't buy any, or I'll guess, and sometimes guess wrong. Now, you might say, it's only a dollar, who cares if you buy one and it turns out you already have 15 in that size? Because those dollars add up, my friends.

When Code-man was little, I could keep all of the clothing information in my head. It was pretty easy, considering I only had one child, and pretty much only had the clothing that he was currently wearing and those he had grown out of. Adding Logo (MC) to the mix made it slightly more difficult to keep that info in my head, but I had a handle on it. Enter Bubby, and now all bets are off.

Witness the list in action: yesterday I'm standing in Target and I see swim trunks for $2. I think to myself, surely we need some size 8 swim trunks. Probably some 4/5 and 6/7 as well. I whip out my trusty list, find the swim trunk column, and discover that we already have 3 pairs of size 8 swim trunks, 2 of size 6/7, 1 size 4/5 and 1 size 5. I think that's enough for now, and I did not spend $6 on swim trunks we didn't need.

I'm not sure why I'm telling you this. Maybe because I'm proud of my solution to a pesky problem. Maybe because I think I need help. Maybe because I think my experience will help you in some area of your life. Who knows?

When bad things happen

One of the major themes in Wm. Paul Young's book The Shack is the question of why bad things happen to good people, or perhaps better put: why God allows bad things to happen. My understanding of this is that bad things happen because our world is broken. God gave us free will, to make our own choices, because God didn't want a bunch of puppet people to be his children. God wanted to have a relationship with each one of us, but more important than just the relationship, he wanted us to choose to be in relationship with him. Because free will has been given to everyone, bad people also can choose to do as they please. And so bad things happen. Because our world is broken, we have crime and disease and famine and war.

The question that kept running through my head as I read the book was not why does God allow bad things to happen, but how does God decide when to intervene? Because there are some children who get cancer and live and others who die. Does God love the ones who died less? Some people are in terrible auto accidents and walk away without a scratch and others are in much less serious accidents and die.

Today would have been my younger brother's 23rd birthday. He died suddenly and unexpectedly when he was 15 years old. And I was mad at God for a while. You see, when someone dies of a disease, you can blame the disease. When someone dies from a drug overdose or a drive by shooting or a car accident, there is a logical place to assign blame. But when a seemingly healthy 15 year old athlete dies of "natural causes" the only entity to blame is God. Why did you even send him to us, I screamed at God, if you were only going to take him away so soon, too soon? And I still don't know. Almost eight years later, I am thankful for the time we did get to spend with Jeremy. I think our lives are richer because he was with us for a time.

I remember the day my brother was born. My mom had been scheduled to go in for labor induction that day, so when my older brother and I woke up to find our mom and dad gone, we weren't surprised. We set about getting ready for school, and then the phone rang: my dad, telling us that we had a younger brother. We were so excited, we actually danced around the room, no kidding. Jeremy started kindergarten the year I started college, so after that I didn't spend much time with him. I really wish that we had had the chance to get to know him as an adult. I wonder where he would be, what he would be doing now, what could have been.

I don't know how God chooses when or if to intervene in our choices, our situations. But I do know this: God is love. Everything that God does or does not do comes from a place of complete, utter, unconditional, amazing love.

Garden update

So I know you've all been waiting with bated breath to hear how the garden plot is doing. Right now some of everything is up! The green beans are doing really well, which leads to my dilemma. You're supposed to plant them 3 inches apart and after they're about 2 inches tall, thin them to 6 inches apart. I don't know if I can bear to do that, though! Who am I to choose which bean plant should live and which bean plant should die? And I know that if I thin them, the ones that are left will be stronger because of it, but I still don't know if I can do it. I'll be thinking about what could have been...

It kind of reminds me of selective reduction in higher multiple pregnancies. A couple of years ago, there was a couple with sextuplets (I think) in this area, and when the babies were born, there was a huge firestorm of public outrage that the parents chose to continue the pregnancy with all the babies rather than to kill some of them in utero. The last I heard, five of them had died--I never heard if the sixth one lived or not, but I remember thinking that there was no way I could have done that either. Even though if they had reduced down to 3 babies, those three would have had better chances at surviving...

Anyway, I know that bean plants aren't quite the same as babies, but that's the way my brain works. I'm wondering if I should have planted more corn, since if the ones that are currently up are going to be it, I don't know if we've got enough for pollenization. I guess I'll just have to go out there with my paintbrush, pretend to be Mendel, and pollenate them myself. Only one green pepper plant survived, but there are around 5 tomato plants, the zucchinis look like they will do well (as if there was any doubt that the easiest to grow vegetable in the world would not do well), the pumpkins and watermelons are up, and we've got sunflowers and zinnias up for sure. I'm not sure about the cosmos, because I don't know what those are supposed to look like. The marigolds that I planted in our window boxes are doing well, and the lettuce I planted in a big pot seems to be sprouting (those of you who get the Kraft Food & Family magazine--I planted the seeds that were embedded in that paper on the back cover).

We also have quite a few weeds thriving. It's kind of hard to control them, because I can't really go in there to weed while I'm taking care of Bubby, and when Hubby's home, he's busy doing other things. So anyway, that's exciting news about the garden, right?

Guess what my children did yesterday. Go ahead, guess.

Well, within 5 seconds of each other, and within 30 seconds of when supper was to be ready, Bubby threw and broke a glass candle holder (my favorite one, by the way), and Code-man dropped and broke a drinking glass. And everybody was in the kitchen and nobody had shoes on. On the other hand, the MC scored two goals during his soccer game last night, and almost scored two more. His coach last night did a terrific job: he had 7 kids playing 3 v 3 and each time a new player came in, he would have them change the color of their jersey, so they were really all just playing together.

Surf 2

Here's Sawblock...they both said it was fun, but to me it just looks like a lot of work.

I forgot to add in Cody's that it's a little choppy because I was videoing from the canoe. After we left that place, we passed some people camping on the river bank, and one guy called out, "that little kid can kayak all by himself?" And then asked Code-man how old he is. I guess I never really thought about it before, but Code-man is the youngest kayaker I've ever seen, too!

Surf

And now that Code-man has had his first taste of surfing in the kayak, this is all he's going to want to do...Sawblock let Code-man go twice, 'cause he (Sawblock) wanted to surf in the canoe.

Look what I can do!

Logo said, "show this to Grandma and Grandpa." So here you go, G&Gs.

Jump!

All Code-man wants to do when we go canoeing on the St. Croix is look for trees to jump from.

No training wheels

Logo is a great biker--he just needed to be in a flatter place for him to realize it.

Gotta love that tongue!

Gettin' some air

Code-man is now confident enough in his jumping skill to let me take pictures

Paddling

Some pictures from the weekend:

Would you?

I have to blog while Hubby's out of town so he knows what's going on around here...

We went up north for Memorial Day weekend--that's what people do around here. And on the way, I noticed a billboard that said, "If you could improve a life, would you?" As we got closer, I saw that it was an ad for the Shriner's Hospital, but that doesn't really matter. You know, my immediate reaction was, sure! I mean who, besides a narcissist or sociopath, wouldn't? But how often are we given the opportunity to improve a life and we decline? I think we think that we have to do something huge to improve a life, but honestly, for me, sometimes all it takes to give me a lift is kindness from a stranger: a smile or kind word, or someone standing a few extra seconds by the door to hold it open for me and my stroller. Sometimes it's a letter in the mailbox, or an email at the right time. And each day that I have a positive outlook improves my life.

My point is, you never know what the ripple effects of your actions will be. Each moment of the day, you could potentially improve a life, or, on the flip side, degrade a life. So I think we should be aware of those opportunities and seize them, always.

I think that the most important lives I need to be improving are those of my children. So often, I get caught up in what they're doing wrong, rather than noticing when they do things right. I've heard that it takes someone saying seven (seven!) positive things to a person to off-set just one negative comment. Our jobs as parents are to raise our children to independence--a big part of that is teaching them how to behave in the world, and so much of that teaching seems to be negative. It's so hard to balance the correction, which we know they need, with the unconditional love and praise that we also know they need. I really, really don't want my kids to grow up thinking that they can do nothing right. I guess the key is, though, to always correct from a place of love rather than anger. Unfortunately, I'm not God, so that's often difficult for me. But who else in this world has as much of a vested interest in my children feeling loved and appreciated and accepted than me? Who else is going to do that, but me?

Now, obviously that sign was an appeal for us to send money, not necessarily an appeal for us to be nice to each other, and that's a big thing, too. Money. There was an article in our paper recently about giving, saying that the poorest 1/5 of Americans give away the highest percentage of their incomes. One of those poorest people said something interesting. He said that poor people give more money away because they are less worried about money. Isn't that crazy? Well, not really. Remember when Jesus said (talking about money) that man cannot serve two masters? The more money we have, the more concerned we are about losing it--money becomes, to many of us, an idol--our source of comfort and security. For where our treasure is, there will our hearts be also, and all that. We say we can't afford to give to every cause that comes along asking for money, but look at us! We are so prosperous. We are so blessed, with so much more than we need, and we can't afford to give a little bit away?

I say again, you never know what the ripple effects of your actions will be, what effect your little gift of surplus will have on someone's life, but when we are presented with those opportunities, our answer should always be a big, resounding yes! I will improve a life.

Business trip

Bubby decided that he wants to go with Daddy on his business trip to California and Colorado next week! He had to take out most of Daddy's clothes so that he would fit...

Introducing...

Introducing the newest addition to our household:"Red"

350 lbs, 48"

delivered Wednesday

. . . . . . . . . . .

So last weekend, while Luke was being born, my mom was celebrating the xxth anniversary of her 19th birthday, and the tractor was blowing out its engine (oh, right, that was the weekend before that), Hubby and Code-man were at Cub Scout camp. Code-man was being promoted to 1st year webelos (which stands for "WE BE LOyal Scouts), and Hubby (aka Sawblock) was having his inaugural camp-out as Cubmaster.

Here's a picture of the group at the chapel. Code-man is third from the left in the (sort of) first row.

And here is Bubby contemplating a tulip:

And showing off his rain boots.

Wednesday, Hubby had to visit a vendor about a two hour drive from here, and decided that he needed a driver, so he took Bubby and me along. After we returned, Hubby asked Bubby how the business trip was...

It was a real bear (or doggy, as Bubby would say)... About 12 miles south of the vendor's offices, there is a little zoo. This is Ms. Grizzly, giving us a look before resuming her lunch. It was hot, so she had just taken a dip in her little pool.

Introducing...

Introducing our new nephew, Luke, born Saturday:Just in case you're keeping score, that's 5 grandsons for my parents and 5 grandsons for my husband's parents...no granddaughters. I hear that mom, dad, Luke and big brother are all doing well.

Today is my mom's birthday. Happy Birthday, Mom!

Especially Fond

My small group at church is currently reading and discussing Wm. Paul Young's book The Shack. There has been quite a bit of controversy surrounding this book, and I can understand why: it pretty much turns on its head everything you thought you understood about God. For many of the members of my group, this book puts into words some of the things we've been feeling in our souls, but could never quite voice, and never quite reconcile with the teachings of organized religion. It has definitely given all of us lots to think about.

One of my favorite parts of the book is something that Papa, the author's personification of God the Creator, says over and over: "I am especially fond of that child." She says it about everyone, each person, even those who have done unspeakable things, and each time I read that phrase, it's like getting a little hug from God. She says it as a loving mother or father would say about each of their children, loving them in spite of their mistakes. So my message to you today is that God, creator of the universe, is especially fond of you. Especially fond.

OMG

That's oh my goodness, for those of you who didn't know. I have come to the somewhat appalling realization that Logo, my middle child, has exactly one pair of casual pants that doesn't have any holes or patches. To make things worse, 50% of his dress pants have a hole in them. That's right, folks, he has 2 pairs of pants that are whole. He had to wear shorts today, with a bus stop temp of 44, and a much colder wind chill, because I've been taking the holey pants out of rotation in preparation for re-patching. This is evidently a fairly common problem, since I have yet to talk to a mom of any boy aged about 6 to 10 who doesn't comment on how difficult it is to keep their son in pants. I find myself wondering what other moms do, since I don't think I've ever seen patches on any other kids around here. Do they throw the holey pants away and buy new ones? Yikes.

The good news is, Goodwill has redeemed itself, at least in part. I went there today looking for a scooter and scoping out the helmets for Code-man (who has decided that he needs a snowmobile helmet to bike in), and discovered Toddler Thursday, on which all children's clothing and toys are 50% off. So those $5 jeans were $2.50, and that spring jacket was $3.50. Much better. The bad news is, no boys' size 5 or 6 or 7 or 8 pants anywhere in the place...there was another mom there looking for size 8 jeans, too, and she even commented on the scarcity of used pants in that size range.

Poor Bubby. All that's going to be left when he gets that big will be rags...

And I am pleased to announce that Code-man scored his first goal of the soccer season last night. Way to go, Code-man!

Airplane

Here's Code-man flying his RC airplane. He's practiced a lot and does even better now.

Biking

Parade

The other day I happened upon this impromtu parade.

Paddling

Faith

So eight days ago, I put these dead looking things into the ground and started spraying the ground with water daily, thinking, believing, that something green would grow. And every day, I stare at that ugly bare patch of ground, and think, "when?" And I find my belief wavering. As each day passes and no new life emerges (or, rather, the only new life emerging is stuff I didn't put there and don't want there), I begin to think, maybe it won't grow. Maybe it was too much to believe that I could put this dead thing in the ground and have new life spring from it. Mind you, it's only been eight days; I'm a little ashamed that my faith would fade so fast.

On Friday, Bubby and I were in the garden enclosure. I wanted to pull out the grass plants that were the only green that I could see in there, and take a closer look to see if I was missing something. Bubby started digging in one of my pumpkin mounds. I was a little upset. I told him, how can anything grow in there if you're digging it up? So we left the rest of the weeds where they were, and I moved on to the hose portion of my day. As I was spraying, I noticed pumpkin seeds peeking out of the area in which Bubby had been digging. See, I told him, they're not going to grow if they're not underground. So I went back in to cover up the seeds (leaving Bubby on the outside, which he started protesting vigorously). And as I was covering up my little pumpkin seeds, I noticed little green sprouts growing out of them. And that, just that little bit of growth, was enough to remind me of my hopes and inspire me to believe again.

How many times in your life have you waited, and waited, and waited, wondering "when?" My answer to you is, just a little longer. How many times have you felt your faith waver? My answer is wait. And watch. And listen.

Wait for the LORD;

be strong and take heart

and wait for the LORD.
Psalm 27:14

Last week Logo and Code man had their first soccer games of the season. The U5/U6 (I'm still a little confused as to why my 6 year old is considered to be under 6, but I think it has to do with the fact that this the spring league) program has gone to a scramble format, so they don't have teams, each week they're divided up into groups of about 10 kids and sent to a field with a coach. All of the coaches are supposed to be doing the same drills and teaching the same skills each week and then after about half an hour of practice, the kids play 3 v 3.I heard that there were a lot of parents complaining about the new format before we even started. I was a little concerned about the coaches not getting to know the kids' names, and wondering how it was all going to work, but after one week I think it's terrific. All of the pressure to perform is off, for both the coaches and the kids. Since their team changes each week, they never get a chance to realize that one player is not as good as the others, and we parents don't have to worry that our coach isn't as good as the other coaches, because we'll have a new one next week. We're not supposed to keep score, but of course everyone does (those who can keep the numbers in their heads, that is), and we keep a running tally of wins and losses, even though we say it doesn't really matter. Now, it truely doesn't matter.

Code man is finally on a team on which he knows a couple of the kids...had to happen sooner or later, I guess.He really enjoys playing soccer, and I enjoy seeing him enjoying himself. It's a little hard to control my coaching from the sidelines, but one game at a time, eh? His team has 12 players and in his age group (U10--yes, the not yet 9 year old is under 10, but the 6 year old is under 6) they play 6 v 6, so the coach was subbing everybody out at one time, whether they needed it or not. I thought he was subbing a little too frequently, then I realized that he must be used to hockey, where they sub every 60 seconds or so. He's a likeable guy, so I won't hold that hockey thing against him :-) He said his goal was to not get yelled at by the ref.
And how could I not post this pic of my little man, Bubby?

MD

Happy Mother's Day to all my favorite moms! Love you.

Birthday

It's Robb's birthday today! Happy birthday, Robb.

Caution

I threw caution, and a few zinnia seeds, to the wind on Saturday and planted my small garden area. The caution was thrown on purpose, with deliberate forethought; the zinnia seeds are so light they accidentally blew away. It struck me, on Saturday, how much faith is needed to plant a garden. I mean, the seeds look dead. Those sweet corn seeds were all shriveled up and yucky looking, and here I am, putting them in the ground, giving them water, and, later on during the summer, some food, and expecting this little dry dead thing to grow into something I can eat. Am I crazy, or what? Nope, just faith and hope-filled, and itching to stretch my in-God's-image-ness by participating in the process of making something grow.

It was a beautiful weekend for the Wisconsin fishing opener. Sunny and warm. A little windy, but not too bad. Here's a picture of the boys with their catch from Saturday.On Sunday, Bubby and I decided we were going to go with them. It's getting a little crowded in our canoe. I can just see us, in a few years, driving down the road with two kayaks and a canoe on top of our truck. Scratch that. Two kayaks and a canoe on a trailer behind the truck.

I am happy to report that Bubby did much better in the canoe this time than he did last year. I think it helped that the life jacket wasn't quite as cumbersome now that he's a little bigger.

Here's a picture of Hubby with his first catch of Sunday.And here's a close-up, just in case you can't tell what species of fish it is.It's a turtle! Scott caught a turtle!

And here's Code man's first catch of Sunday.His is a bass.

Here's a picture of my four favorite boys fishing.I was taking pictures blind, since the sun was in my face. I know I should have put the back light feature on, but I couldn't see the screen to even do that. So, the pics aren't bad, considering...

Warning: Cute Kid Story Ahead

All right, so my perception of "cute" may be a little warped by almost 10 years of stay-at-home-mommy-hood, but this is definitely a "kid story."

So this morning, Bubby decided to get out of his bath quite abruptly, so abruptly that I wondered if perhaps he felt a certain tingle that made him uncomfortable, so I asked him if he wanted to use the potty. "No," he told me, while shaking his head. "No" is Bubby's automatic response to any question these days, but generally, when he combines it with head shaking, he really does mean no. So I told Bubby to go get a diaper, and he ran off, returning in a few seconds with the diaper, which he threw on the floor. Then Bubby ran off again before I had a chance to actually put the diaper on him.

I was cleaning up the bathtub area (I told you he got out abruptly...), when, two minutes later, Logo came in and informed me that "Caleb peed on the floor." Bubby followed Logo into the bathroom, snatched his diaper off the floor, and ran out with it (Bubby runs a lot these days). I went into the kitchen and yes, there was a yellow puddle on the floor (at least he did it on vinyl rather than on the carpet, right?). I grabbed a washcloth to start cleaning it up, and before I could get back to the puddle (here's the cute part), Bubby had started trying to wipe up the puddle with his unused diaper! I told him it was a little late for the diaper, but it's nice that he's willing to clean up his messes!

Pictures

Here's a picture of Code-man reading to his brothers at bedtime. Awwww! How special.

I am finally almost done with a project I've been working on for someone I love--now I'm just waiting for a detergent bottle to be emptied so I can finish (intriguing, eh? Wouldn't you like to know what it is and who it's for?). I've enjoyed doing it, but it just feels like it's taken forever, and actually, thinking about it, I think it's been almost a year since I got the materials. Isn't that just the way? Projects take at least twice as long as you think they're going to...

On Saturday, Code-man raked a path through our front woods to make a bike path, because, you see, when you "get some air" (jump) the pine needles are quite slippery to land on. He also did some digging on one of the jumps and eliminated another one so that he could set up for the big jump. He didn't want me taking his picture jumping, so he went slow whenever he saw the camera, and I'm just not talented, or sneaky, enough to hide the camera until he's already committed to the jump.
During the course of the day, Cody decided to get out the go-cart that Grandpa made for the boys and try it in the woods. He kept going slow, though, keeping his feet on the ground, even though I told him that with the resistance from the dirt and the shallow slope he wouldn't get going nearly as fast as on the driveway. We really need to put some breaks on that thing.Isn't this a great picture? They're all looking at me, and mostly smiling.

Code-man's friend Derek came over, and after trying the jumps repeatedly, they decided that they wanted to dig. I told them they were welcome to dig in the garden area, as long as they filled the hole in when they were done, and as long as they promised not to do that after we actually plant stuff in there. They ended up digging two holes, which were quite deep, almost to Logo's waist, and definitely at least as deep as the retaining wall.Bubby decided to start cleaning up the front front yard, where the lake had been. This year there are quite a few sticks left over from the flooding. I don't think Caleb quite understood the concept, though, because he would pick up a stick, and then transport it to another area where he would drop it off and pick up another. Such a cutie-pie!

Earth day, geocaching, medication, and granola

On Wednesday, Code-man's Cub Scout pack planted 25 trees to complete the requirements for their Conservation award. It worked out well that Wednesday was also Earth Day. Since it was supposed to be a nice day, our family decided to picnic at the park first. Turned out to be the wrong park, but it was a nice place to have supper.

While we were eating, a man arrived, alone, and started lurking suspiciously about. At first, I thought he must be up to no good, but as I continued to watch him walk back and forth in a wooded area, the realization dawned that he must be looking for a geocache. Sure enough, as I watched, he surreptitiously glanced down at the hand he had just taken from his pocket, using his body to shield whatever it was he was looking at from our view. A GPS, I was sure. I watched until he left the area, and then said to the boys, wanna see if we can find that geocache?

So we wandered around in the same area, back and forth, checking out a few promising possibilities. We made it to the river side of the park, and I turned around to look back toward where we had come and saw...Mr. Geocacher (he was back)...standing by a tree...that had a branch coming out toward me...and a hole where the branch connected to the tree. I sent the boys to look in that hole, and...it wasn't there. Turns out Mr. Geocacher had found it and was waiting for us to go away so he could replace it. By the way, Mr. Geocacher told us that the one we had been looking for last April with Uncle Robb, that turned out to be under water, had been replaced and that he had just found it (if you see Robb, let him know, would you?).

As we pulled up to the park in which we were to plant the first 20 trees, we noticed a black car sitting at the curb and in it was...Mr. Geocacher. Which makes me wonder where the cache in that park is. I'm guessing in one of the sewer gratings, since there isn't much other cover there (hence the planting of the 20 new trees). It was so funny to see him there. I hope he didn't think we were following him.
. . . . . . . . . .
So, if you know me, you know that almost 3 years ago we discovered that I have a small benign tumor on my pituitary gland. It shrunk, then grew much larger while I was pregnant with Bubby, and shrunk again after he was weaned and I started taking medication again. That was a year ago, and my blood tests have been good since then, so I've decided to try to stop taking my medication. The doctor gave his OK, so here I go...we'll be checking my blood again in 3 months. When I was first diagnosed, the doctor told me that I may have to keep taking the medication for the rest of my life--I sure hope not!
. . . . . . . . . .
Here's a recipe for granola cereal that I got from my mother in law--so yummy:

In a large bowl, mix together
4 c. oatmeal
1 c. shredded coconut
1 c. sunflower seeds
1 c. wheat germ
1/2 c. sesame seeds
1 c. chopped peanuts
(hint: you can buy most of these things in the bulk ingredient aisle of your grocery store)

Bring to a boil:
1 c. honey
1/2 c. vegetable oil
1 T cinnamon
(hint: measure out the veg oil first, then the honey, in the same measuring cup--the honey will come out more easily)

Pour honey mixture over oatmeal mixture and stir to coat. Spread on two cookie sheets. Bake at 325 for 5 min, then stir, then bake 5 min, stir, bake 3 min, stir, bake 3 min, and allow to cool undisturbed.

The beautiful thing about this recipe is that it's so easy to make substitutions. I routinely leave the sesame seeds out and add more sunflower seeds. If you're peanut allergic, you can leave the peanuts out and add more of something else. This past time I added sliced almonds to the mix. I've noticed that if it's humid on the day you prepare the granola, it becomes soggy, but you can crisp it up by putting it back in the oven for 5 minutes. I think the key is to put it in an airtight container as soon as it's cool so it doesn't have time to absorb moisture from the air.

Here's a recipe for granola bars that I got from my sister in law (whose son is peanut allergic)--also very yummy:

1/2 c. butter or margarine
1/3 c. sugar
1/3 c. honey
1/4 c. flour
1/2 t. vanilla extract
1/4 t. cinnamon
2 c. crisp rice cereal (like rice krispies)
2 c. oatmeal
1 c. dried fruit bits
1/2 c. sliced almonds

Heat oven to 350. Coat a 9x13 inch pan with nonstick cooking spray.
Melt the butter or margarine in a large pot over low heat. Remove the pot from the heat and whisk in the sugar, honey, flour, vanilla extract, and cinnamon. Add the remaining ingredients and mix well.
Transfer the mixture to the baking pan. Using a sheet of waxed paper and the palms of your hands, press the granola firmly into the pan, packing it to a flat and even thickness. (hint: if the waxed paper sticks to the mixture, spray it with cooking spray first)
Bake for 20 minutes, until golden grown. Allow the granola to cool 1 hour in the pan, then transfer to a wire rack to cool completely before cutting into bars. Makes 16-24 rectangular bars.

This one is easy to customize, too. I usually reverse the amounts for the fruit--I use dried cranberries--and almonds (1/2 c. fruit, 1 c. almonds). You could also use different nuts if you don't like almonds, sunflower nuts, for instance. We like to wrap these separately in aluminum foil or snack size ziplocks, for an easy on-the-go snack.

Trampoline, part two

So this is the last one. Scroll down to the first and enjoy :-)

Trampoline

Taken this morning...Cody insisted that I post it today.

Slipper

Slap, slap, slap...Caleb has big shoes (or slippers) to fill!

Egg hunt

Found one!

Slide

One, two, three!

Happy Birthday

The obligatory birthday video...

Go State!

Here's Logan showing his Spartan heritage. He's had at least 5 relatives attend and graduate from Michigan State, three of whom are in his direct line. On the other hand, the only ties to University of Michigan that he has are two parents who were accepted...

Speed Demon Grandpa

At least Grandpa was willing to try it out to...after Scott figured out that if you steer using the ropes, you'll turn too quickly and go careening off into the rocks on the side of the driveway.

Speed Demon Cody

True to form, Grandpa has once more risked life and limb of his grandchildren by giving us the prototype of his newest toy. Actually, this time Scott was the one who got injured...

Cody & Tyler

This is Cody swimming with Tyler the dolphin. Actually, Tyler's doing most of the swimming, Cody's just along for the ride...

Mac-n-cheese

When we were in Florida, we had leftover night. This is Caleb, trying to make sure that everyone gets enough.

Lil' Squirt

I had to show this one to y'all because of the intensity with which Caleb squeezes the fishie.

Painting

As you can see, painting is serious work.

Snow trucks

Remember, when viewing the videos today, scroll down to the bottom and work your way up. This is the first one, taken in late February. They're on a mission...

PINK!

Well! The men who visit my blog have weighed in on my new background. I would like to remind them that they were invited to "comment on how cute it is...", not how much they don't like it. See, because it's not for them. The correct comment would be, "gosh, T, that just expresses your personality beautifully." Or even, "T, I'm so glad that you're happy with your new background." Love you all, though :-) Can't really expect y'all to get the subtext there without more explicit instructions.

Have you noticed my recent love affair with pink? I don't think anyone who knows me could have missed the whole fuzzy pink slipper episode (that's when it started), and my husband thinks that my new pink polka dotted PJs are...well, we won't say what he thinks of them, and now the blog...

I was never really a girly girl. I have an older brother whom I absolutely idolized as a kid (I still think he's pretty nifty), and so I tried to do all the things he did, like wander through the woods, climb trees, and jump down from high places. I even tagged along to his Cub Scout meetings. And for most of my life, my best friends have been boys.

My favorite color has always been blue. I'm not sure why, I just like it, but lately, the pink. You see, I am thrilled to be the mother of 3 boys. I didn't really feel qualified to teach a daughter how to be a woman, and I feel like I dodged the bullet on that one, giving birth to three sons. I love being married to my husband, too. However, that is a whole lot of male-ness in my world. Pink is one way that I set myself apart, reminding myself, and my children, that I am a woman, and as such, I am a different creature (hubby, however, needs no reminding of this fact). Pink is just the first step in teaching my sons to respect, revere, and protect the women in their lives. And so, yes, I may be going a bit overboard on the pink, but it's for a good cause, yes? And it's just so cute!

Videos tomorrow. Yee-haw!

New look

So, my brother said he didn't like my new blog layout (I took that to mean he didn't like the background--my creative interpretation), and I already mentioned that I wasn't too sure about it by the time I actually got it implemented, so my brother's comment was enough to send me into a flurry of redesign activity. Rearranging my blog is almost as satisfying as rearranging furniture, but much easier physically. I still would like to do something different with my header, but it'll do for now. Feel free to comment on how cute it is...and I would like to point out that there are still polka dots, and they are pink (sort of)!

Drive in

Whew! It's been a rough couple of days in my blogging world. I've been working on that garden post since Friday, but couldn't manage to publish it until Sunday, either because blogger was being slow or I was being limited by my slow internet connection. I decided it was time for a change in my layout and template, but that, also, was hampered by the same slowness. It seems to have passed for now...I'm not sure I like the polka dots any more. At this point, though, they're staying. I worked too hard for those dots to give them up so easily (I think if they were pink we'd be in business).

So my husband and kids did something Saturday night that they have never done before. We went to a drive-in movie. Cody had heard from a friend of his that they "chucked footballs at the screen," so he wanted to do that as well. He had to content himself with chucking the football at his dad and brother in front of the screen. The two older kids sat on the roof of the truck, their feet dangling through the moon roof, and Caleb crawled around on his parents, pushing buttons, changing the station on the radio, and generally getting in the way of our "date" (at least he's not strong enough to honk the horn--yet). We were thrilled to discover, after having the radio on, but the engine off, for the duration of the movie, that our vehicle started when we wanted to leave. I just can't imagine sitting through three movies and having your car still start...how do people do that?

Anyway, I can't imagine how this important experience could have been unfortunately left out of my husband's upbringing (so deprived!), and I was thrilled to be able to fill the gap for him by introducing him to the exciting and mysterious world of the drive-in movie. Now, I think I'll have to find out if he's ever been served by a car-hop on roller skates...

Gardening

There is something so satisfying about being outside playing in the dirt with the sun shining down. Even though I don't like getting dirty (I absolutely despise having dirt under my fingernails), and even though Caleb has decided to commandeer my gardening gloves, there is a certain contentment that comes from subduing a little slice of nature and bending it to my will: a satisfaction that comes from being the instigator of a miracle. For the past few weeks Caleb and I have been spading and raking, raking and spading, our little garden plot whenever the mood strikes us. Cody and Logan join in when they're around, and we dream of eating fresh vegetables, we scheme of ways to keep the deer away.


We've just about doubled our space this year, deciding to plant the entire raised bed of which we planted just half last summer, and we will plant pumpkins, watermelons, zucchinis, green peppers, cherry tomatoes, sweet corn, and green beans, along with two varieties of sunflower, zinnias, morning glories, and cosmos. Right now, it's just an empty patch of dirt, but with hope and anticipation, we wait for its inspired transformation.

Suckers

I'm one of those "suckers who lent the government significant interest free money to the IRS this year," mentioned in my brother's April 15 blog. I am every year. We already have many more withholding exemptions than we have people in our family, and I found myself, this year, when faced with yet another large federal tax refund, contemplating going to 15 on our federal W-4. And then I thought, what does that even mean? Who claims 15 exemptions (besides octo-mom, that is, who doesn't have any income and therefore even she doesn't claim 15)? Does the table even go that high? What do I have to do to get the government to stop over-charging us?

Now, I have to admit, it is nice getting a large infusion of cash every April, but it would be so much nicer to have several hundred more dollars in our pockets every month, along with the interest or investment income that would result. Any suggestions?

Our weekend

What a busy weekend we've had! Friday was good, because the kids didn't have school (that's why they call it good Friday). We went to the Lent Event at our church and had a great time. Cody and Logan made several crafts and collected jelly bellies at each station, while Caleb played with trucks, and stared at the jelly beans suspiciously. The thing everyone looks forward to at Lent Event is the egg hunt at the end. The boys each found their 4 eggs, and then delighted in opening them and eating the candy. Caleb found one of two special prize eggs, and won an Easter basket full of goodies.

Saturday was Logan's 6th birthday. Yikes--he needs two hands now to show how old he is. We started with a construction themed party with 5 of Logan's friends (two others couldn't make it). Have you ever tried to herd 5 and 6 year olds? Let's just say we now have a new dimension in our respect for Logan's Kindergarten teacher.
After the party someone convinced Logan that he should try riding his bike without training wheels. So he did.
Later that night we headed to St. Paul to watch a professional lacrosse game: it was the Minnesota Swarm versus the Portland Lumberjacks. The Swarm lost, but we had a lot of fun at the game. There's a lot of scoring in lacrosse, and the game is very fast paced--I found myself getting tired just watching the players run back and forth. In addition to the game itself, I found the announcer quite amusing, and they had a guy they called the Toyota professor (so called, because evidently Toyota sponsors the team), who, from time to time, would explain a play or one of the refs' calls, which really helped us to understand what was going on.

Sunday, we headed to church for breakfast, followed by Worship. When we returned home, we discovered that the Easter bunny had paid us a visit, leaving some candy-filled eggs for Caleb, and a set of clues for Logan and Cody, leading to a treasure. This was Caleb's second egg hunt (the first being on Friday, when his brother Logan helpfully located, picked-up, and placed the four eggs into Caleb's bag), and he wasn't quite sure what to do, but he caught on quickly. It was fun to see our two oldest children working together to solve the clues. E.B. did a good job hiding the clues :-)

Now, my three oldest boys are canoeing down the river (where, while we were dropping them off, we saw a bald eagle, a loon, and a crane, along with 6 little fishies that someone had caught), the little one is sleeping, and I plan on joining him as soon as I'm done here. We'll go pick up the river riders around 5, have dinner, watch Amazing Race, and then probably collapse into bed after this very busy and fun weekend.

Sunday

For Jesus' disciples, all of their hopes and dreams had died and were buried right along with Jesus. But today, we proclaim:
Christ is risen!
Christ is risen, indeed!
And because Christ is risen we have been given eternal hope.
Amen. Alleluia!

Saturday

Today I think of Jesus' friends. We know that the disciples still didn't understand what was happening--they still didn't quite "get it" until after Jesus' resurrection. We have the benefit of knowing the end of the story, but what must they have been thinking and feeling on that dark Sabbath day, the day after their beloved teacher's death? Confused? Abandoned? Scared? Wondering what comes next? Where they will go? What they will do? These men and women had literally left their old lives behind, to travel with Jesus and to learn from him. They left their jobs, their homes, their families...all of that, just to have it all end with such sudden and crushing finality.

In the church we attended during my teenage years, it was a tradition to strip the altar at the end of the Good Friday worship service. The congregation would sing the verses of "Were You There?" slowly and ponderously, pausing between each one while someone would read one of Jesus' last words, and more items would be taken from the chancel area: the big Bible, the candles, the altar cloths. After the altar was bare, it would be draped with black cloth, and a crown of thorns would be placed on the draped cross. After each verse of the song, more lights would be turned off, so that it would be completely dark by the end. We would leave in silence, in the dark. It was an extremely moving experience, a loving act of remembrance.

Do you know that hymn?

Were you there when they crucified my Lord?
Were you there when they crucified my Lord?
Oh, sometimes, it causes me to tremble, tremble, tremble.
Were you there when they crucified my Lord?

As I would leave the church's sanctuary, devoid of light, seemingly devoid of hope, Jesus' last words echoing in my mind, it was easy to imagine that I had been there, witnessing the horror, the blood, the pain, the cruelty. And, in a way, I was there. Every one of us was there, because our sins were the nails driven through Jesus, into that cross, and it was Jesus' love for us that kept him there.

Friday

From the sixth hour until the ninth hour darkness came over all the land.
About the ninth hour Jesus cried out in a loud voice, "Eloi, Eloi, lama
sabachthani?"--which means, "My God, my God, why have you forsaken
me?" Matthew 27:45-46

It feels so right to me, that the sky became dark, because this was a dark, dark time. Have you ever felt so utterly, completely abandoned? Oh, it makes my heart ache. Horrible. Even worse than horrible. In fact, that is the definition of hell: being completely and eternally excluded from the presence of God. This exclusion from God's presence is the consequence of sin. Jesus, bearing the sins of the world, experienced this, on the cross, so that we would never, ever have to.

And when Jesus had cried out again in a loud voice, he gave up his
spirit. At that moment the curtain of the temple was torn in two from top
to bottom. The earth shook and the rocks split. Matthew 27:50-51

Do you understand the significance of the temple curtain being torn? In the temple, the curtain separated the holy place from the most holy place. No one was allowed to go into the most holy place except for the priests, because that's where God was. In fact, the priests wore bells on their robes, and a rope was tied to their ankle, so just in case the priest died while he was in there, they could pull his body out without entering the space containing God's presence. The idea was, if they couldn't hear the bells tinkling anymore, the priest must not be moving, and must be dead. With the curtain torn in two, there is no longer a separation. Jesus made it possible for each of us to come directly into God's presence.

When the centurion and those with him who were guarding Jesus saw the earthquake and all that had happened, they were terrified, and exclaimed, "Surely he was the Son of God!" Matthew 27:54

Surely, Jesus is the Son of God!

'Bye Daddy

When we lived in West Virginia, Cody, and then Logan, after he came along, would stand on a table by the window in their bedroom to wave goodbye to Daddy as he left for work. Just recently, they've taken up the practice again. We love you, Daddy!

Thursday

In the night in which he was betrayed...

It's Thursday, the day we remember Jesus' last meal with his disciples at the Passover feast. Jesus began the evening celebration by washing his disciples' feet, something which normally would have been done by a servant--just one more example of Jesus' complete counter-culturalism. In fact, Peter was horrified, at first, at the thought of his Master washing his feet. Jesus told them,

"I have given you and example to follow. Do as I have done to
you. How true it is that a servant is not greater than the master...."
John 13:15-16a

After supper, Jesus went to a quiet place to pray. He "began to be filled with horror and deep distress" (Mark 14:33), and told his friends "My soul is crushed with grief to the point of death. Stay here and watch with me." (Mark 14:34)

He went a little farther and fell face down on the ground. He prayed that,
if it were possible, the awful hour awaiting him pass him by. "Abba,
Father," he said, "everything is possible for you. Please take this cup of
suffering away from me. Yet I want your will, not mine." Mark
14:35-36

I'd just like to point out, here, that saying Abba is like saying Daddy. Can you imagine a 30 year old man calling his father Daddy? That, more than anything, demonstrates to me the sorrow and distress, even despair that Jesus was feeling. Luke reports that

He prayed more fervently, and he was in such agony of spirit that his sweat
fell to the ground like great drops of blood. Luke 22:44

Once again, I love this picture of Jesus. It is so easy, amidst the miracles and healings and teachings and throwing out of demons and walking on water, to remember that Jesus is God. And it is so easy to forget that he was, at the same time, fully human. I think we just gloss over that part sometimes, because it's so difficult to understand how he could be both, God and human.

And yet, here he is in the garden. Jesus knows what he has to do, and, quite understandably, doesn't want to do it. It will be difficult. It will be humiliating. It will be painful. It is beyond words, what Jesus will go through. But Jesus, because he loves us (US!), does it anyway. Jesus has free will, too, we all do, and he chose salvation for the world, redemption for us all, in exchange for his life.

When I was younger, I never really understood why Good Friday was called good. I never understood why Jesus had to die. It seems to me that the day on which Jesus died was awful, horrible, terrible, anything but good. I guess I didn't understand salvation at that point, or how God can use even the most horrific situations to fulfill his purposes.

It is no accident that Jesus' sacrifice came during the season of Passover, the time when Jews remember the angel of death passing over the Hebrews' homes just before their escape from slavery in Egypt. If you remember, the Hebrew people were to slaughter a lamb, a perfect lamb, without blemish, and smear its blood on their door frames, which would signal to the angel of death that this household was to be spared. Jesus, on this night in which he was betrayed, became the perfect passover lamb, once and for all, and his blood is smeared over the doorways of our hearts, sparing us from the horror and the grief, the agony and distress of death: the slavery of this imperfect, sinful life.

Wednesday

Continuing in our journey together through the week before Jesus' death, this actually happened Tuesday (two days before the Passover Feast), but I'll talk about it today (since nothing is recorded in the Bible for Wednesday).

Now the Feast of Unleavened Bread, called the Passover, was approaching, and the
chief priests and the teachers of the law were looking for some way to get rid
of Jesus, for they were afraid of the people. Then Satan entered Judas,
called Iscariot, one of the Twelve. And Judas went to the chief priests
and the officers of the temple guard and discussed with them how he might betray
Jesus. They were delighted and agreed to give him money. He
consented, and watched for an opportunity to hand Jesus over to them when no
crowd was present. Luke 22:1-6

The rat! One of the Twelve, Jesus' most trusted inner circle! How dare he? How could he?

Let's back up a bit to an incident that happened the previous Friday in Bethany. Mary (of Mary, Martha, and Lazarus) took a jar of expensive perfume, and poured it on Jesus' feet, anointing him.

But one of his disciples, Judas Iscariot, who was later to betray him, objected,
"Why wasn't this perfume sold and the money given to the poor? It was
worth a year's wages." John 12:4-5

Why, indeed? Read on...

He did not say this because he cared about the poor but because he was a
thief; as keeper of the money bag, he used to help himself to what was put in
it. John 12:6

Oh. Gotta love that commentary from Jesus' favorite disciple. And then Jesus responded:

"Leave her alone. Why are you bothering her? She has done a
beautiful thing to me. The poor you will always have with you, and you can
help them any time you want. But you will not always have me. She
did what she could. She poured perfume on my body beforehand to prepare
for my burial." Mark 14:6-8

In John's gospel, this little incident is reported in chronological order, so even before the triumphal entry into Jerusalem, but in each of the others, it's recorded right before Judas heads to the chief priests seeking to betray Jesus. I don't think that's a coincidence or a mistake. It seems that Matthew, Mark, and Luke all felt that the perfume incident was a direct antecedent to, and perhaps even a catalyst for Judas' betrayal.

I feel a little sorry for Judas. He gets a bad rap, but I think he honestly thought he was doing the right thing. He must have thought Jesus was a little crazy after the thing with the perfume--he must have felt like his teacher was losing it, and going to the chief priests, allowing them to take Jesus into custody, probably seemed like a prudent course of action. If Jesus is going insane, Judas must have thought, then it's for his own good that he be taken off the streets before he can hurt himself or others. Of course, it didn't hurt that the religious leaders were willing to pay Judas for his betrayal, given what we know about Judas' money habits.

Then there's this: yes, Judas had free will, we all do. Yes, Judas chose to do an evil thing. It was all Judas. But! God made Judas, created Judas from nothing, and God knew Judas' inmost thoughts, God knew what Judas would do when faced with that situation. Jesus knew that Judas would betray him and placed him in his inner circle anyway, because that was what needed to happen. The son of man needed to be betrayed, so that we all could receive forgiveness for our sins. It needed to happen, and Judas was the one chosen to do the deed. It was Judas' destiny. Now we can get all tied up in a discussion of predestination versus free will, but quite frankly, I don't want to do that right now. The point is, God knows each of us better than we know ourselves, and God placed Judas in that place, at that time, so that the scriptures would be fulfilled. I feel like, in some ways, we owe Judas a debt of gratitude.

Judas was sorry for what he had done. Matthew reports:

When Judas, who had betrayed him, saw that Jesus was condemned [to die], he was
seized with remorse and returned the thirty silver coins to the chief priests and
the elders. "I have sinned," he said, "for I have betrayed innocent blood."
Matthew 27:3-4

Judas had no idea that Jesus was going to die as a direct result of his action. I like to think that God forgave Judas his sin. We know that God uses all circumstances, good and bad, to honor and glorify God, and it is certainly the case here. God used Judas' betrayal, his sin, to redeem the world. Thanks, in part, to Judas, we've been washed in the blood of the lamb, and made clean. We have been set free from the shackles that bind us to this imperfect world, and we are free to live the life of perfect communion that we were made for. Out of the devastation and destruction of our sins, the most beautiful things can happen. Only God has the power to do that.

Tuesday

This week, that we call Holy Week, in which we remember and celebrate the events that happened in the week before Jesus' death, is the most well-documented week of Jesus' life. If it was me, with all this stuff going on, my mind would be reeling. I just can't get my brain around the impromptu parade of Sunday, followed by cleaning house at the temple and teaching all week, all while one of your closest associates is plotting with your enemies to get rid of you. I can't imagine how the tide of public opinion could shift so swiftly, that they were shouting praises to a king five days before shouting even more loudly for his death.

So, today I want y'all to think about something that our children's timeline Bible says happened on Tuesday of that week, but the other Bibles just say happened sometime between the triumphal entry and the last supper. Jesus was teaching in the temple, and the religious leaders thought he was dangerous and stirring up trouble (true, true), and so they were looking for a way to get rid of him, and they sent a spy to try to trick Jesus. Let me just stop here to say, what a smart man Jesus was. He knew they were trying to trap him, which, really anyone could have seen, but he knew exactly how to transcend the situation, and not get snared in their trap. Amazing.

Anyway, the spy asked Jesus if the Jewish people should pay taxes to Caesar. This is a no-win question because if Jesus said they shouldn't pay taxes, the Roman government would be upset, and accuse Jesus of treason, but if Jesus said they should pay taxes, the Jews would be upset, and not just because they didn't like paying taxes. I'm a little vague on this, but it was something about graven images being against God's law, and, of course, the coins used to pay taxes contained a graven image.

So what did Jesus answer? He asked the spy to show him a coin, and then asked the man whose image and name appeared on the coin. "Caesar," he replied, to which Jesus answered, "well, if this is Caesar's, give it to him, but make sure you give God what belongs to Him." (that's the Step-by-Step Bible wording, you've probably heard it with renders and untos in the past). The religious leaders were "amazed" by Jesus' answer (me too). They were so sure that they had caught him, but there was nothing they could say to that. Stay tuned, though, because those religious leaders just don't give up...

I've thought a lot about the second part of Jesus' answer: "make sure you give God what belongs to Him." It gives me tingles to read that, because the Roman coins were made in Caesar's image, with Caesar's name on them, but we, flawed and imperfect as we are, are made in God's image, and God's name is written on our hearts. Sure, the Caesars of this world can have their money, but God...God demands all of each of us: everything that we are, everything that we do.

Sleep

It is frustrating to me that I can't sleep. I am so tired, pretty much all the time, but when the time finally comes that I am able to lie down and rest, sleep proves elusive. Grrr. Then I'm even more tired the next day. So maybe I should tell you what's been on my mind lately--at least then I'll have something to show for my crankiness tomorrow.

My Sunday morning women's group has been watching and discussing a series of mini-lectures on Revelation by Dr. Craig Koester, to parallel our pastor's preaching during Lent. I've come to view Revelation in a different way through these seven weeks. I think most people think "fire and brimstone," or "gloom and doom," when they think about this last book in the Bible, this myth perpetuated by popular culture, but I find it extremely comforting and hopeful: after all, the good guys win in the end.

Dr. Koester points out that the book of Revelation is not linear, and cannot be understood linearly, instead, it consists of a series of spirals. The visions of Revelation pose challenges and then bring the reader back into the presence of God, over and over again. Many of John's visions are difficult and unsettling, but these ominous visions are followed by encouraging visions of heavenly praise. Revelation begins and ends in the glorious presence of God and of the Lamb. It is no mistake that Revelation begins and ends with God and the Lamb saying, "I am the Alpha and the Omega, the beginning and the end." The implication is that none of that other stuff matters. Or, the other stuff only matters inasmuch as it points us back into God's presence. We know that our final destination is into God's presence. The end of time, Dr. Koester said, is not an event, but a person, God.

Last week, Ruth Ann preached to us in bumper stickers. She said all we need to know about Revelation is contained in these three statements:

1. Revelation is a letter. Revelation was written at a specific time to a specific set of people. Yes, it can inform and inspire us today, but its intended audience was the people of those seven churches in Asia, who lived and died almost 2000 years ago. I don't know that John realized that his letter would become a part of the Bible, read by millions, through the years.

2. Revelation is a book of Worship. Over and over in Revelation, we are treated to visions of heavenly worship. It's less about the battle, less about the evil, than it is about us coming back to where we belong: into the presence of God in worship.

3. Revelation is a prophecy. A prophecy, yes, but not in the way most people think of prophecy. Rather than predicting the future, laying out specific events that will happen exactly as written, this prophecy shows us how God is moving, how God operates. It's the sort of prophecy that allows us to predict, in general terms, how things are going to go. This prophecy shows us that God always triumphs over evil. Every time. For all time.

Now honestly, people, what's so scarey about that?
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Logan lost another tooth this week. No, I mean he really lost it. He went to bed with the tooth in his mouth, and when he woke up it wasn't there anymore. And no, we're not going to be looking for it (or, rather, having not found it in his bed or his brother's bed, or on the floor by the bed, we will not be looking in any other locations for the tooth). Logan wrote a nice little note:

Dear Tooth Fairy,
I really lost my tooth. Sorry. Please give me money.
Logan B.

And, the next morning, the note was gone, and there were 2 quarters and a looney (that's a Canadian dollar) in its place. I think the tooth fairy couldn't see too well in the dark...
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I need to buy new shoes. I absolutely dread buying new shoes. I can't, for the life of me, figure out how anyone could possibly actually enjoy buying new shoes. Well, I suppose those people's feet probably fit into common sized shoes. See, the problem is, I have very wide feet. This is a good thing evolutionally, because wider feet mean better balance, but it's not so good societally. Right now I have exactly three pairs of shoes that fit me (I also have snow boots and hiking boots, so if you count those things as shoes, I have five pairs. Yes, my husband has more shoes than I do). One is a pair of black wedges, which are horribly out of style and a bit awkward for me to walk in, but they do fit, although they're beginning to look a little scruffy. Another is my black casual shoes, which I wear pretty much every day, and are pretty much falling apart. The third is a new pair of tennies. Yes, after months of searching, I finally found a pair that kind of fit me. When I brought them home from the store, my husband said to me, "do they fit?" and I said, "they'll work," and then he said, "but do they fit?" and I said, "they'll work." We repeated this a few more times. See, what my husband doesn't understand is that for me, finding a pair of shoes that actually fits is unheard of. For me buying shoes consists of a series of compromises: if I get shoes that are wide enough for my feet, they're way too long, and if I get shoes that are the right length, I can't even get my foot in them. Scott says that when I find a pair that fits, I should buy two or three pairs, and I will, definitely, if I ever find a shoe that actually fits me, I'll buy every pair in the store. Heck, I'll buy every pair in the metro area.

I've been looking for a pair of sandals for a couple of years now, and I was devastated when my old ones fell apart last summer. Yes, I actually shed a tear or two (and now you know why). I don't even bother looking in the women's section for sandals. No way are my toes going to make it anywhere near the end of the shoe, or even past the straps, even if I do happen to find a style that comes in wide sizes. Luckily, men's sandals have been trending toward the feminine lately. So I've been trying on men's sandals, and I discovered that in order for the sandal to be wide enough for my foot, I have to go up to a size 9.5. No WAY am I going to buy the same size shoe as my husband wears! My foot is two inches shorter than his is!

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I'm getting a little tired of people saying, "these days, we can't afford to be wasteful." I, for one, have never been able to afford to be wasteful. I mean, what were these people doing in the good ol' days when they could be wasteful? Buying a new car every four years as soon as they'd paid off their previous auto loan? Buying each and every new and improved gadget, even though it's obsolete by the time they get it home? Running up thousands of dollars of credit card debt because "I deserve it"? Throwing away half their dinner because they don't like leftovers? Paying for services and features they don't need or want because it's a better deal if you bundle? Running out and buying every single accessory known to man for their new hobby and then abandoning said hobby the following week? Buying shoes because it's fun? Oh yeah, right...that's exactly what they were doing, and that's exactly why now they can't afford to be wasteful. It wouldn't offend me nearly as much if they'd just drop the "these days" from that statement.

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Today is Monday of Holy week, the day that I traditionally think about Jesus going into the temple and overturning tables. I think this actually happened on the same day as the triumphal entry, which we celebrate on Palm Sunday, but today is the day I think about it. I love to think of Jesus that way. So often we view Jesus as kind of a pushover. That's not exactly the right word, but do you understand what I'm trying to say? Jesus was and is perfect. And he was always telling people to love one another and to serve one another, and that the last shall be first, and to turn the other cheek, and you kind of get the idea that he's not going to stick up for himself, and that we shouldn't stick up for ourselves either. But I love that picture of Jesus losing his temper and driving the money changers and dove sellers out of the temple. It reminds me that yes, Jesus is fully divine, and yes, Jesus is perfect, but that Jesus was also fully human. Just like me (except for the part where I'm not anywhere near perfect). Jesus faced the same fears and anxieties and temptations that we all face. If he could triumph over those, that gives me hope that I can, as well.

Exterminator Boy

There's a new Super Hero in town and his name is Exterminator Boy. Now I don't mind bugs, really, I don't, as long as they stay outside where they belong. But I really hate it when they hang around, propagating themselves, in my house. That's where Exterminator Boy comes in: he fearlessly captures and subdues the box elder beetles that seem to be everywhere and flushes them down the toilet while exclaiming triumphantly, "b'bye bug!" (I think it's Jackie from CyberChase who says, "b'bye bad guy," so you all probably don't get the reference, since you're probably not big fans of CyberChase).

And he's so cute, too!

By the way, I have to assume that Batman has headed elsewhere, perhaps back to Colorado, since we haven't seen him around here in quite a while. I don't think Batman does bugs, anyway, though.

Here's a picture of Logan taken at his concert, "M is for Music and Movement, A is for Animals and Alphabet" on Thursday. He was a turtle (the only one, I might add--seems like there were 20 bees, in fact, Logan was surrounded by bees, but only one turtle), and briefly transformed into a tree for the squirrel song.

Can you believe Lent is almost over? Only one more week. That's right: Holy Week doesn't count, either. I've come to some realizations about how I use the internet and what it means to me. I don't think I'll share that here, though...

Oh, and I just have to say, thanks, Dad! Some of you know that my brother has become obsessed with brewing beer. And some of you also know that it's my fault for getting him started by giving him a home beer brewing kit for Christmas. So about a month ago, my Dad sent an email to my husband (since I gave up the internet for Lent), telling him that Dad had ordered kind of a strange gift for my children and that my brother would understand. Hmm. Perplexing. Turns out it was a home root beer brewing kit :-) I just laughed and laughed and laughed when we opened up that box. We are so anxious to try it out, and so surprised that, just like beer brewing, root beer brewing involves yeast. In fact, Cody and I were talking about doing "The Science of Root Beer" for his 4th grade science fair project...