Sunday, January 31, 2010

Momma's Proverbs for Boys -- posted by Momma

Since I wrote a little stream of consciousness about some of my responsibilities as a mother, I thought it was only fitting to write one about my children's duties. (Oh what fun!) As it turned out, it really just speaks to the little boys. I guess that's because I've accomplished the better part of raising Sarah Grace and the big boys.
  • Wait until everyone is completely seated and the blessing has been thoughtfully offered (not rushed) before you insert even one crumb of food into your pie hole, or the long arm of Mom may find you and knock you to that floor you haven't gotten around to sweeping.
  • If you plop a glob of toothpaste, or whatever, in the sink, take a paper towel from the cabinet and wipe it out. That's what they are there for.
  • Kill all the spiders and roaches and mice and rats. That's what men do.
  • You are not allowed to be OCD about your food touching, or the folds of your socks, or how your shoes are tied, or any such thing. The character of Monk was endearing with his quirkiness and all, but mental illness is not funny. For God hath not given us the spirit of fear; but of power, and of love, and of a sound mind. II Timothy 1:7 (emphasis mine)
  • Don't try to scare anybody. That's evil. For God hath not given us the spirit of fear; but of power, and of love, and of a sound mind. II Timothy 1:7 (emphasis mine)
  • With grateful hearts, eat everything you're served regardless of taste, color, or texture. Anything less is self-indulgent finickiness, and I won't have it.
  • Jesus declares himself to be the way, the truth, and the life. We are commanded to seek the truth in all matters whether we want to know it or not. Some truth is hard to hear, but if we regard a lie, or put anything before the truth, God condemns it as idolatry.
  • Always look us in the eye when we're speaking to you or you're speaking to us and don't mumble, slur, or speak too fast... ENGAGE.
  • Never lunge at food, or toys, or anything offered to you.
  • Take heed to yourselves: If thy brother trespass against thee, rebuke him; and if he repent, forgive him. (Luke 17:3) God doesn't forgive anyone who doesn't repent and he doesn't expect more from us. Be bold enough to rebuke and loving enough to forgive. Don't skip any of those steps.
  • Honor and cherish your momma and sister or you're not allowed to have a girlfriend, much less a wife.
  • Too much video gaming will make you socially inept and give you rickets.
  • Tell everyone in the house goodnight and that you love them before going to bed.
  • In extreme heat or cold, prepare the car temperature in advance for us.
  • Get off the computer.
  • Hug and kiss a lot... even your brothers. There are lots of ways to smooch a brother on the head or cheek in a non-queer way, and you had better perfect that kind of unfeigned affection.
  • Be prepared to financially support and care for any women in your family in the event their husbands or fathers can't or won't. It is a disgrace to send them into the man's work-a-day world to make their own way, or worse, send them begging to the world, i.e., the state.
  • Learn how to fix running toilets, dead electrical outlets, leaky faucets, etc. And cheerfully do it without being asked.
  • Don't pretend to be someone other than yourself by using a different user name-- that's guile. If you can't use your own name, you either shouldn't be saying it at all, or you should man-up and be forthright enough to say it as yourself. Hiding behind a handle is ungodly and unmanly.
  • If a woman ever leaves your company alone, always walk her to her car.
  • Be strong.
  • Never take a bite out of your biscuit or roll. Break off a bite-sized piece and then eat it.
  • Learn how to do basic service and repairs on a car.
  • Chop wood.
  • Never take food, such as bacon, directly from the serving plate to your mouth. Place it on your plate first.
  • Insist on doing the heavy work and dirty work.
  • Never use put-down humor. It diminishes you.
  • Don't overfill your mouth, or your gut.
  • Learn to cook on the grill, at the very least. Have a "specialty" you can prepare.
  • Hug and kiss me out of the blue.
  • Learn to appreciate worthy literature, music, art, and even poetry you think you abhor.
  • No matter who you think you are, do your own yard work, and take pride in it.
  • Don't just take out the trash, wash out the trash cans as well.
  • Last but not least... PUT THE SEAT DOWN!

Sunday, January 24, 2010

Motherhood -- posted by Momma 1/24/10 private journal

For the record, James said he wasn't laughing at my dream but that he and Spence were in full Ben Stiller/Jack Black mode. They said they couldn't switch gears fast enough to feel my dream, especially when I made the sound I made in my dream when I tried to talk, which I admit was kinda stupid sounding. Apparently that's when he lost it, and was trying to hold it in, hence the tears. He said he intentionally stayed up with me because he realized how undone and needy I was. So I finally had some closure to what felt like a serious lack of care and tenderness on the boys' part.

Bill attended an awards ceremony Friday night in Ohio with his new company and he was introduced as the father of eight children. He spent the rest of the evening answering questions from The Fascinated. I honestly don't understand what all the hoopla is about because I don't feel like we are that large of a family. I suppose people imagine our home to be loud and rambunctious, especially when they hear we have seven boys, but actually, our house is rather laid back.

I've always taught the children the whole inside/outside behavior thing, and even so, I still don't let them act like little yard hooligans. They are required, at all times, to exercise self-control. I say this and yet, just yesterday, one of them got into monster big trouble for cracking an egg on his head while wearing his newly washed down jacket and hood. He said that Spencer doesn't like it when he brings extremely dirty eggs in from the chicken coop. How he concluded that it then made sense to crack said extremely dirty egg over his head, I will never know. What I do know is that he will never do that again.

What is curious to me is how many people marvel at our eight, and then confess that they can't handle their two children. I wonder if they really mean that or if they are exaggerating in order to pay some kind of strange homage to us. Why would seemingly responsible adult citizens have trouble raising two children?

I know our rush-rush busy-busy culture, with so much time in vehicles, and everything on the fly, is no good for children. I know that even as a stay-at-home mom, I'm stretched to provide what the children need. Here are just a few things my children need from me:

They need me to make everyday things lovely, like simply slicing the fruit for snack time and fanning it out on the plate.
They need clean sheets, bodies, teeth, and bedrooms for peaceful sleep.
They need hushed calm.
They need me to provide three square meals a day and to keep up with their nutrition.
They need me to notice that they're troubled when a permanent tooth is coming in crooked.
They need to read the Bible everyday and worship the Lord with their family.
They need whole foods.
They need me to know when to watch them play with undivided attention and when to give them their space.
They need hot cocoa in the winter and homemade lemonade in the summer.
They need to see their parents deeply in love with genuine affection.
They need to see us serving each other.
They need me to love them enough to notice when they're under temptation, or to root out a secret sin.
They need spankings from their daddy on their bad fat arses when they sin.
They need Sarah Grace and me to pull them into our laps and rub their stinging bums and remind them that Daddy loves them too much to let them go on sinning against God.
They need an occasional root beer.
They need their whole family to sit together at the breakfast and supper table.
They need to linger after dessert because they don't want to leave the conversation and fellowship.
They need to be read to.
They need screen doors and windows in breezy cool weather.
They need good manners.
They need me to mind their business and harp on them.
They need help developing magnanimous personalities.
They need the Church, the whole body of Christ, and individual members.
They need deep affection for and from aunts and uncles and cousins and neighbors.
They need nosy neighbors who'll tell on them.

They need many more responsibilities than their peers have.
They need picnics.
They need candlelight dinners with things they've never tried...

That's all for now because this list just reminded me of some things I need to tell Bill they need while I'm here at Ma's. They need to wash the piled up cat's dishes that are stinking up the half bath, and they need to get the damn Christmas tree stand out of the front yard where they left it.

Sleep Tight -- posted by Momma 1/22/10 private journal

I had a horrific dream last night. Thankfully Spencer and James were still awake watching a Ben Stiller/Jack Black movie when I came out to the den, as I was totally unraveled and I needed them. They quickly cleared the laptops and junk off our extra long sofa and fetched me a blanket and pillow to bury my head by James' lap while he stroked my hair to comfort me as I unloaded my dreadful nightmare.

I'm going to try to describe this dream as best I can, but put it this way, after pouring my heart out to the Late Night Boys, I looked up and tears were streaming down James' face-- tears of HILARITY! I was unable to express how real it was. At least not to Spencer and James.

In my dream I was myself, but unredeemed. I knew my heart wasn't right, in terms of the Lord, but I wasn't particularly scared to die. It was strange because I was on my deathbed but I was fairly indifferent to my husband and children. I didn't hate them or anything but I wasn't like I'd be in real life. In real life I'd be pulling them up in the bed with me smooching them up and instructing them to love each other and serve the Lord. I'd comfort them with reminders that we'd be seeing each other soon in eternity and to endure this life through the short vapor that it is.

Anyway, in my dream I was just there with everybody around me. I wasn't interested in life or death. I was just there. Then, everybody left the room and I was in there all alone. Suddenly, I realized my spirit was leaving my body, but it was leaving in a downward direction. My heart was struck with terror, so I tried to scream out to my family in the other room but I was unable to make the words right. I hollered, "Bye! Bye, I love y'all! Bye, I love you all," but it came out in my mind as, "Eye! Eye, ah ah uh! Eye, ah ah uh ah!" It didn't matter because no one could hear me and no one came in the room. I didn't know if I had actually died already, and missed my chance for repentance because I had waited too late! I remembered my own words in real life that everyone in hell thought they had another day. And then I woke up.

That dream was so horrifying that James said I came in the room with the expression to match my hair standing on end in a crazed shock. Evidently I was unable to express the terror I felt because he went on a laughing jag as I tried to relate it. I watched the end of the movie with them to try to shake that feeling. Maybe James regretted his reaction to my story, at least in some way, because I woke up with him in the same position at my head as when I fell asleep. He never left me.

I'm so glad we had this time together.... -- posted by Sarah Grace 1/22/10 private journal

Last night we watched the first DVD of "The Carol Burnett Show," which Daddy had ordered a couple of weeks prior.  We had been watching the infomercial while we waited for the BCS National Championship to air, and when he saw how much we were enjoying ourselves, he promptly went to the phone and ordered it.  That's a shocker in and of itself, as my dad is a conservative banker type who never does anything spontaneous like that.  He wouldn't even exit a burning building unless he had it written down in his planner first.  So, that was a wonderful thing for him to surprise us with.

Anyway, the company sends a DVD of the set every month or so, and we received the first DVD this week.  We had such a wonderful time watching it together, that we watched both shows in one sitting.  It was great finally seeing an actual episode as opposed to just sporadic clips.  All the little boys thoroughly enjoyed it as well, and there was much giggling going on during any scene with Tim Conway and his wacky expressions and accents. Speaking of accents, the thick, overly-southern accents during the "The Family" act were just hilarious.

I wish there were variety shows on today.  Shows like that are wonderful family entertainment with truly great comedy, and you don't have to worry about any inappropriate scenes popping up out of the blue, or rough language you're afraid the kids might inadvertently repeat.  Not only are shows like "The Carol Burnett Show" and others family friendly, but there was such a huge amount of work and talent that went into every episode, like those wonderful dance numbers and Broadway skits we watched last night.  They really cared about "putting on a show" for their audience, and you rarely see that same kind of showmanship these days.  

If I had an ounce of talent, I would love to create a variety show for families.  I'm sure mine isn't the only one that's craving some good, wholesome entertainment.  But, seeing as I can barely make it through a ten-minute video entry, I don't think I'll be the one to pioneer a new show any time soon.  And until someone else does, at least I can look forward for Carol's next DVD to arrive.

Like I Sed, We Like to Red -- posted by Momma 1/21/10 private journal

I feel compelled, after inadvertently divulging in my last post that I actually read The Sun, to share that it is not my first UK news source. Honestly, I like pictures and you can usually count on The Sun to have them! *claps hands at love of pictures* Okay, so maybe a lot of them are of scantily clad girls but if you're in the mood to check out that Middleton chick, or great shots of celebs, you may just end up at The Sun!

I don't know the reputations of the various newspapers, but I read mostly,, The Economist (although I had no idea it was a British magazine until recently!),,, and occasionally BBC but that's usually out of curiosity of how they are reporting certain stories. I know the children read The Economist and Bill probably reads Financial Times, but I'm not sure what all he reads these days, in terms of British sources. For the record, I hope none of our trashy-tastin' chocolate companies buy the UK's beloved Cadbury because the Brits may all turn to purple Kool-Aid over it.

The Girl is still asleep for some reason, perhaps because it's raining. If John hadn't kicked me like a pigskin, I might still be sleeping too. I let him and George sleep with me since Bill is in Ohio. Every time I agree to this deal, I get pummeled, no matter how we orchestrate the arrangements. There is no kick-free zone.

I've been thinking about and praying for the Marines sent into Haiti. Those young boys at 18, 19, 20 years old, who were just yesterday playing PlayStation with their neighbors, are facing horrific conditions for which their training couldn't possibly prepare them. I'm thinking of my own sons and how even though I've pushed them to face difficult situations, they would be so ill-prepared for that scene.

I've raised my sons from an early age to embrace being the problem-solvers and protectors and poopy chore-doers, from chopping off chicken's heads to stabbing bloated lambs to freeing septic systems. They've dealt with maggots, feces, death and anything else I could throw their way to prepare them for manhood. But what could possibly prepare them for filling mass graves of grossly decaying bodies along with the continued suffering and panic of the living? Oh Lord, be with those service men and women.

Women! What a shameful practice of this country to allow women into our military. No wonder why so many western women are marrying into other cultures, like Islam, where the men keep them swaddled in reams of fabric to protect them from even the eyes of other men. Western men suck. No, really, they do. I know, I know, I know that all that fabric is because they are a lusty people and they don't trust each other with their women. I know it's not real holy love for their wives, but it has the feel of being cherished and adored. Western men have reduced themselves to choosing a bride based on the prospect of her economic contribution! That's why we publicize that we would not tolerate our dear Sally to be a co-provider in her marriage, and we would never give her hand to anyone who would expect that. He would be unworthy of our precious daughter. Our culture is failing in this regard and we know we have significantly reduced the number of prospects for her with this fundamental. So be it.

This is why I teach my own sons that if they meet a girl they are attracted to, and they want to get to know her, they should get their father and a brother or a neighbor or whomever to vouch for their character, and they should show up on the doorstep of her daddy first to let him know of their honorable intentions. And they should treat her like they demand their own sister to be treated.

The Lord has a wonderful plan for courting and marriage and forever love that this world is missing out on! This world can't appreciate the nourishment of true devotion and submission so it tries to get by on left-over scraps and it is failing miserably.

Ephesians 5:21-33

21Submitting yourselves one to another in the fear of God.

22Wives, submit yourselves unto your own husbands, as unto the Lord.

23For the husband is the head of the wife, even as Christ is the head of the church: and he is the saviour of the body.

24Therefore as the church is subject unto Christ, so let the wives be to their own husbands in every thing.

25Husbands, love your wives, even as Christ also loved the church, and gave himself for it;

26That he might sanctify and cleanse it with the washing of water by the word,

27That he might present it to himself a glorious church, not having spot, or wrinkle, or any such thing; but that it should be holy and without blemish.

28So ought men to love their wives as their own bodies. He that loveth his wife loveth himself.

29For no man ever yet hated his own flesh; but nourisheth and cherisheth it, even as the Lord the church:

30For we are members of his body, of his flesh, and of his bones.

31For this cause shall a man leave his father and mother, and shall be joined unto his wife, and they two shall be one flesh.

32This is a great mystery: but I speak concerning Christ and the church.

33Nevertheless let every one of you in particular so love his wife even as himself; and the wife see that she reverence her husband.

Do I sound like a broken record on this topic? Well, it consumes my thoughts with all these children racing toward marriageable age. This is the pinnacle of my child-raising responsibilities!

In other news, I finally got the Schmidt jigsaw puzzle of Europe I ordered at the beginning of January. The closest place I could find said puzzle was in Belgium from a company called Babylon Hobbies. I must have really wanted a puzzle of Europe to buy it from there! And I did. It's a 1000 piece puzzle which the whole family can enjoy, and it really helps with geography. I was working on The Russian Federation with George and John and we had a great conversation about the old Soviet Union. We have to stare at the map while we're working on it, and if you've never done that, you'd be surprised how much you learn. But Schmidt, really, find Vanna and buy a vowel or two.

I'm just not in the mood for thinking of transitions -- posted by Momma 1/20/10 private journal

Big night last night. Who'd a thunk, to quote my husband, "that the finger in the dyke holding back the flood of socialism would have come from Massachusetts?" What happened that they couldn't whip up enough of the traditional dead people ballots to make the difference? What hath God wrought?

I've had a barrel of laughs perusing the various reactions on these Internets. I wonder if Sarah Grace's main squeeze, Mark Steyn, will write a post-election article. He wrote a pre-election piece that continues to amuse me, and this recent article that I keep under my pillow. If I weren't so thoroughly convinced of the futility of politics, I'd be tempted to jump back in there baring my teeth on all fours after last night. His Highness, King Hopeychangey, got a whuppin' from his own.

I just love Mark Styne's sense of humor. As a Christian, I can't partake in most of the world's humor, but even Jesus and the prophets were sarcastic!

I often feel like I'm the innocent victim of The Posse's humor around here. They've nearly pulled my leg off. I frequently step into their sicko booby traps. Imagine how I felt, being a homeschool momma, when I saw this scribbled on a box of macaroni noodles: We love to red.

Which reminds me, today is a school day and Sally is probably wrapping up their Spanish lesson as I poke these keys. I'm a mostly two-fingered typist, but I'm fast. Wait, is typist still a word? Are we keyboarders now or something? Did I ever tell you that I was one of the fastest typists in my typing class in 1978 but I had to drop the class because they administered the tests with the lights out? I bet I've never gotten around to telling you that. That doesn't seem fair, does it?

Oh, and just so you know, you can't swirl a cauldron's brew of Roman Catholicism plus Voodoo and conjure up Christianity... not in Haiti, and not in New Orleans.

And, after seeing the slideshow of the UK New Year's Eve revelers, I've been concocting a wily subterfuge to spring Mrs. Sarah and Mr. Billy outta there before it's too late.

Friday, January 15, 2010

Back by popular demand.... -- posted by Sarah Grace

Apparently, I thought a period had to come after every line.  I was six.


To day I am goweg to tak my brotr to krote.  And I am.  Varre hape.  And I got sam pas and I lovd.  Them. 

(Today I am taking my brother to karate, and I am very happy.  And I got some Pez and I loved them.)



Win I got hom I got.  To eat a swit putato.  Wit sinnamn it was good.

(When I got home I got to eat a sweet potato with cinnamon.  It was good.)



The otrday my brotr throw a.  pecs of woad I krid.  I had to put a pecs of ics.  It hrd vrry bad.  and the ics was.  cowd vrry vrry.  cowd.  But I had to tak it bc it was.  Good for me.  I tok it tnwa.

(The other day my brother threw a piece of wood.  I cried.  I had to put a piece of ice.  It hurt very bad, and the ice was cold, very very cold.  But I had to take it because it was good for me.  I took it anyway.)



I hlpt my mom ficks the table.  I hlpt my dad clen the room.  I robd Moms necke caus I love my mom and dad.

(I helped my mom fix the table.  I helped my dad clean the room.  I rubbed Mom's neck, because I love my mom and dad.)



Wen it is my brtday I am gowig to trn off the lits and poot on soom moosick and dans.  My mom and dad are cleneg up the room so we can poot the cremas three up.

(When it is my birthday I am going to turn off the lights and put on some music and dance.  My mom and dad are cleaning up the room so we can put the Christmas tree up.)



Last Thursday at ice satig.  I wint mach fastr.  My brotr thru a batre.  at my eay it has a brus.  My baby bruthr bited my figr.

(Last Thursday at ice skating I went much faster.  My brother threw a battery at my eye.  It has a bruise.  My baby brother bit my finger.)



Today I am going to ice skating I can't wat.  Today aftr I go to ice skaing my mom mit by me a now bible abaut Jesuse.  Tomoroe my mom mit tack us to the ice cream stre.  Win I wock up ther was snow iviriwere it was amasing.  My mom slep weth me last nhigt.  My mom told me that she loves me.

(Today I am going to ice skate, I can't wait.  Today after I go to ice skate my mom might buy me a new Bible about Jesus.  Tomorrow my mom might take us to the ice cream store.  When I woke up there was snow everywhere.  It was amazing.  My mom slept with me last night.  My mom told me that she loves me.)



Today my mom mite by shorts for me.  I can't wate.  My baby brothr says my name like Sazh.  It is funy.  Pocahontas loved God.  I hope you love God to and belive wate God belevs.  Do you.?  My brothr is mene but I love him.  Somtims I wont my mom to go to sckool with me.

(Today my mom might buy shorts for me.  I can't wait.  My baby brother says my name like Sazh.  It is funny.  Pocahontas loved God.  I hope you love God too and believe what God believes.  Do you?  My brother is mean but I love him.  Sometimes I want my mom to go to school with me.)

Thursday, January 14, 2010

Nine-Year-Old Sarah's Diary - Part 2 -- posted by Sarah Grace

I had decided to write these two parts without all the misspellings, but Momma suggested I put them back in. As you all probably know by now, spelling was not, and never has been, my forte. There's just no point trying to hide it anymore.

Dear Diary God,

I used to love Barney, but now I don't. I have to sometimes 'cause James wants me to. I don't like baby shows, well sometimes I do. My brothers are so mean, I want a sister really bad. Love at first sight is probly not true, but it is romantic. I am waiting for my love one.


Dear Diary God,

I call this chapter "The Exciting Day." It all happend a week ago. When I woke up and had done school, I had to baby sit and watch TV. Then Mom said I could play, so I did. Then Daddy came home and we play takeloko and catch. Then we hunted for a water mokasin. And then we planted roses. Then we had dinner and watched Air Force One, then Abraham. Then we had devoioshions and then went to bed. So, that was the chapter of "The Exciting Day." Dear Diary God, goodnight.


Dear Diary God,

I just got naibers. Thay have a dog, so do I, and they fight all the time, so if you can help me, call me. I have four kittens. When thay are hungry thay jump on me and lick my nose. There is 1 girl and 3 boys. We are going to make them inside, also we have to get them and my dog to be freinds. The reason why I have 4 and not 5 is 'cause one died 'cause of worms. The vet baried the body. I pray it is in heavean. Well, I'v spoken enough an
d I'm tierd. Well, goodnight Diary God.


Dear Diary God,

I have better handwrighting now so when I wright it won't be slushed. I want to be a "Princesse." My Dad call's me one. I like to believe I'm one, so from now on call me "Prinsesse Sally"! I like dressing up like a prinssese, talking like a prinssese, walking like a prinssese, and I believe I'm a prinsesse. Prinssese Sally!!! Well, I got to go. Sorry I can't finish the page. Well, goodbye dear Diary God.


Dear God,

Troy is in my homeschool class and he stard at me all day. He even talked to me, and I think he likes me. He's about 11, 12, or 10. Anyway, I think he's smart! He's nice and not sloppy like other boy's. Also, other boys looked at me like they disliked me. I feel so wierd like he was watching me. Alex is my friened at class. She's nice and funny and I like her. Will, my brother, doesn't have a friened, but he'll find one. Well, goodnight God. I love you father, goodnight.

Wednesday, January 13, 2010

Nine-Year-Old Sarah's Diary -- posted by Sarah Grace

Apparently, after I had been writing to "Diary," I decided to go back and change it to God.

Dear Diary God,

We are going to move.  I want a boy friend so I can marry him, but I don't want to grow up.  I like being a kid because it is fun and you loose teeth.  I want God to come when I'm a kid, and I want a kid boy friend.  I alsoe like a boy that is cute, but not fat cute.  I say that a guy is going to kiss me when I am asleep, but that is really dumb.


Dear Diary God,

I don't think I will get a boy friend because I have fat cheaks and he won't like me.  I want a boy that has good taste.  Some girls have bad taste and do sick things like being nacked, but I'm not like that.  If I do get married, I want to have seven kids like my mom.


Dear Diary God,

Spencer is my brother.  I sort of like him, but he does this anoiing sound.  James is a little pixie guy, and he is always into stuff.  Webb is so cute and chubby.  All my brothers are mean and they say I'm stuped because I want a boy friend, but I think it is so so so romantic.


Dear Diary God,

I call this chapter "The Great Cat Mystery."  It all started a month ago when my dog started barking....  I went to see what it was.  I saw a cat in our workshop.  Then at dusk we went to see what it was doing in there.  We went in, and it liked us.  It had 5 kittens.  We are planning to keep them so they will have a nice safe home.  So Diary God, the cat... er... and kitten mystery, is considerd closed.

Little Sally Ally's Diary -- posted by Sarah Grace

I came across one of my old diaries today.  The calendar says '95-'96, so I was around six years old then.  Here are a few excerpts from it, with the original spelling included.  Unfortunately, the keyboard doesn't have backwards letters as well.  Translations will be in parentheses.

--  Last niget I had a tarobl day.  NOT GOOD  (Last night I had a terrible day.  NOT GOOD.)

--  I pakdes riding my bik wet 2 wels on but my butr keps bubing in to me.  (I practiced riding my bike with 2 wheels on, but my brother keeps bumping into me)

-- Get a grp!  (Get a grip!)

--  I love you!

--  Bad day!

--  Les eat!  (Let's eat!)

--  My hero!

--  On my feld crp I got to fed a got.  (On my field trip I got to feed a goat.)

--  I got sam nau clos.  I love them.  (I got some new clothes.  I love them.)

--  My boyfrinde is nobody.  Ha!  Ha!

--  My dad callse me prinses cup cack.  I like that name.  (My dad calls me Princess Cupcake.  I like that name.)

--  No other God.  No grave and emeg.  Not God in vane.  Remeber Sbeth day.  (No other God.  No graven image.  Not God in vain.  Remember Sabbath day.)

Weird.  I have another diary from when I was a bit older and had my wits more about me.  Perhaps that one will make its way on here in a future entry....

Wednesday, January 6, 2010

Memory Verses -- posted by Richard

We have memory verses and at first I had trouble memorizing them but now I am the first one to memorize them!

One we memorized is 1 John 3:9:
Whosoever is born of God doth not commit sin; for his seed remaineth in him: and he cannot sin, because he is born of God.

Another one we learned is John 14:15: If ye love me, keep my commandments.

You can memorize them with us if you want.

This is the new one:
Matthew 5:48 Be ye therefore perfect, even as your Father which is in heaven is perfect.

The red words are the words Jesus said.

Saturday, January 2, 2010

Happy New Year! -- posted by John

On New Years Eve my whole family and I slept over at my grandmother's house. She loves parties even though she is bedridden! We had lots of food like shrimp and little quiches and chips with dip and little eclairs and Italian cream cake. The kitchen was set up buffet-style like the party in You've Got Mail. Will was scraping off the delicious outer crust of the chocolate pound cake just like Tom Hanks was scraping off the caviar garnish on the pâté. I love the way Meg Ryan puts the garnish he swiped back on the plate.

We played Wii in the den before the ball dropped. Ma asked Mom to put up a card table in her room for us to put together a jigsaw puzzle. She also wanted Will and George to put together George's Lego set in the bed with her. She likes having us in the room with her. When we leave, she rings her bell to get us back in there.

After the ball dropped the first thing we did in the new year was take communion together. We took it with bread and sparkling grape juice.

The next day we woke up, ate breakfast, played some Wii, had visitors over, ate hotdogs and then watched the Sugar Bowl with our Gators and Cincinatti. It was Tim Tebow's last game and we were glad to win. We slept over again last night but we'll go home today.

I haven't been writing in my journal much lately because I've really been into math. I finished my entire year's math book in a liitle over a month. Maybe I'll become a math whiz instead of a journalist. Who knows; I kind of go in phases.