Winter Wonderland

Bruce's forecast has finally come through. Snow. And a decent amount at that.

We've had a couple "snow day fake-outs", which are so disappointing. And I thought this would be another one. The forecast for snow has been on-and-off-and-on again this week. But Bruce woke me up in Allison's room (She had a nightmare. And she wouldn't let me leave even though I tried twice) before he left for work to tell me that the roads were covered and Clay likely would not have school.

After getting up and discovering that Spencer was in my bed (Also nightmare plagued, so he just took my vacant spot. Musical beds!!), I went downstairs as Bruce was confirming via computer that Sullivan County schools were closed for the day. He left for work, and I went out to get the newspaper. It was already raining lightly so I grabbed the camera and took a couple pictures, in case it was gone before we got out the door again. The sun was just coming up, so it's kind of blue looking.



I wanted to let Clay sleep in, but I was torn. Thankfully, he was up within 10 minutes, we ate breakfast quickly, and then we suited up and headed outside.

I think our dog, Dixie, enjoyed her first real snow. She chased snowballs Clay tossed to her. Here she is during a brief respite from chasing the kids on their sleds.



And some more pictures.







Can you see the little, square snow bricks above? Clay was very ambitious and wanted to build an igloo. I didn't tell him that it was unlikely because not only were those some tiny little bricks (very time consuming to make each one) but also the rain would probably wash the whole thing away before he finished.







Spencer built probably four snowmen in various locations in the yard. We've got a whole village out there!



I took the picture above just in case you might actually be able to tell that we got probably three inches. Notice also the very finely built railings. Courtesy my own personal Mr. Fixit, Bruce, who is still working his way around the porch, dismantling the old rails and putting up new ones.

CSI

CSI. Yep, that's been my life for the last few days.

I feel like I'm constantly eyeing Allison, trying to catch her in the act of thumb sucking. Or I'm looking for clues to see if she did it some time and I didn't see. Is her thumb shriveled and pruney? Is the Hoof polish stuff picked off?

She actually caught me a minute ago.

We've had a very busy morning. When we dropped Clay off at school earlier today, we took in a couple bags of items for the food drive the school is doing to help re-stock the shelves of Harvest Food Bank. Then we went on our way, off to Bible Study Fellowship.

We're in Matthew, and today's lecture was really great. I am mulling all kinds of things in my head right now: How to tell the difference between an authentic or counterfeit Christian. How each of us is, this very moment, either actively pursuing growing as a Christian or we're stagnant. Our lecture leader asked each of us what we've learned since the study of Matthew started in September and what we've put into practice in our lives from those lessons. And then she asked us, if we aren't learning anything or putting it into practice, to consider if we have hardened our hearts. (Just in case you're interested, we're in the first part of Matthew 13, especially verses 11-17.)

Makes me wonder how many times I've hardened my heart to one of God's insights out of laziness, stubbornness, or pride. More than I want to admit. I've definitely got some praying ahead of me.

From BSF, I went to a lady from church's house. She watched Spencer and Allison last week for me so I could go to a BSF seminar, and I didn't have the checkbook to pay her. So I ran that by, and asked her to watch them again next week, because my BSF group is having a fellowship and I've only been to one so far this year.

The kids asked for Pal's, and Frenchie Fries put a major dent in what little self discipline I have, so we went.

Next stop... the library. Bruce thought since it'd be a cold weekend, we could check-out a couple movies for the kids. He doesn't know yet that I picked up a chick flick, too, though.

Then home. Finally.

I put the kids in their rooms for an hour pretty much every day. It used to be nap time, but now it's just quiet time. No electronics. Just quiet play.

As I was leaving Allison's room I saw that the polish on her thumbs was gone. I asked her if she was going to suck them if I waited until after quiet time to put it back on, and she said no. But I spied through a crack in her doorway. Only, I didn't catch her, she caught me, and even asked me to stop spying on her. So we went downstairs and put the polish on right then.

Not only am I snooping on Allison, which is where I get the "investigation" portion of my CSI days, but my boys gave me an interesting experience last night into what a crime scene might look like.

It was time to start supper and I went upstairs to pull my hair back in a pony tail, because it's long enough to do that now (goody for Bruce, but I'm sick of it already!). The kids were playing with their Star Wars Light Sabers in Spencer's room. These were last-minute gifts from "Santa", bought while we were at Disney because Spencer was so disappointed not to be chosen for a Jedi training thing. We were big time suckers on that one. Kind of like the Moon Sand from last Christmas that now stays at Great Grandpa's house because nearly all his house is linoleum and is easier to clean.

The kids have been fighting like crazy for about two weeks now. I'm just about numb from it. Over stupid stuff. "Mom, he called me a cry baby." "Mom, she looked at me mean." "Mom, he laughed at me for.... blah, blah, blah." They are spending much more time alone in their respective rooms because of it.

But yesterday, they were so sweet!

Clay was helping Spencer clean his room. They were making the bed, building a fort, etc., before the light sabers were pulled out. When I heard Spencer screaming while I was pulling my hair through a rubber band, I figured he was just mad about something that Clay had done, and I was in no rush to find out what it was. Unfortunately.

But then I heard running in addition to the screaming. First, the herd bounded down the stairs all the way to the den, then back up the stairs all the way to our master bathroom. The real kicker was when Clay started chanting: I'm sorry, Spencer. It was an accident. I'm sorry.

And then Spencer threw open the bathroom door, and I saw the most blood any of my kids has ever leaked in one setting. Spurting from his nose. And Clay was as pale as a sheet and looking like he was a dead man walking.

And you know my first thought?

Great! There's a trail of blood from bedroom to den to master bathroom.

It's not that I wasn't concerned about Spencer. But he's the kind of kid that I know he's okay quickly because he stops crying pretty much the minute you put your hands on him. He's a physical-touch love language kid, and once he was in my arms, the crying went to a whimper.

Blood does something funny to me now, as a mom of three kids. It's about the only time all emotion gets shut off. I become a robot, to get done what needs to be done. After the fact is when the shaking starts and my mind goes to all the "what ifs".

After reassuring Clay that he wasn't going to die anytime that day by my hand, I put him in charge of watching Spencer to make sure he was properly stocked with tissue and pinching his nose to stop the geyser. Funny how they can get along perfectly when necessary.

And then I went on a blood cleaning foray. It took a while. A long while.

Here's what my kids learned. If someone is bleeding, they need to get to, and stay in, either the kitchen or bathroom where the floors are easy to clean. Someone else needs to get mom or dad! They also learned that mom still trumps Santa, and all things he gives can quickly be removed from the house when I deem it necessary. Yesterday it was necessary.

Here's what I learned. I can clean up after three kids with a stomach virus just fine, thank you very much. But the metallic smell of vast amounts of blood just about does me in.

CSI, I tell you.

Is She or Isn't She?

Well, we just aren't sure if Allison is on her way to no longer sucking her thumb.

Friday night she was very compliant when I explained I was going to paint her thumb nails with some yucky tasting stuff to help her stop sucking her thumb. We put on the recommended two coats, and she even helped me blow them dry between coats.

After doing our devotion, when it was her turn to pray, she said, "God, please help me to stop sucking my thumb so Spencer won't get to be bigger than me for long."

Sometimes sibling rivalry is a good thing!

We sent them all to bed, and we never heard another word out of her. About an hour later, I checked on her, and she was sleeping soundly, thumb noticeably outside of her mouth. She came downstairs the next morning and was all smiles as she told us she hadn't sucked her thumb. No complaints at all. I was thinking, "Where is my daughter? The one who put her foot down and proved wrong all other mothers who mistakenly claimed that potty training girls was easier than potty training boys?"

Allison even reminded Bruce during the day Saturday that we needed to put more coats on her thumbs because the Hoof junk would come off. And sure enough right after an early shower that evening, I noticed one very un-shiney thumb nail. Convinced she had scraped it off in order to suck, I questioned Allison. She claims it came off in the shower. Hmmm!

At bedtime last night, I snuck back in about 15 minutes after bedtime to see if I could catch her sneaking a suck. Nope. No thumb sucking was happening.

Okay, I know it's awful to be suspicious of your kids. But I am not, and never will be, one of these parents who thinks my kids are perfect. I've seen some of what they're capable of, and what I haven't seen is probably for the best. I also know what I was like as a kid, and I've heard stories about what Bruce was like. Not bad kids, but certainly far from perfect.

And Allison has shown herself to have a sneaky streak. Her skills at lying... well, I'd put them up against the best poker player around. She gets that from Bruce, not me. My face gives me away if I even attempt to tell a lie for a joke. Bruce can hold a straight expression through any inquisition.

Thankfully, the boys take after me. They pretty much tell on themselves within seconds of being questioned. With Allison, we're never quite sure if what we're hearing is all truth, partial truth or bold-faced lie.

And don't think we take this lightly. That child's rear end has been worn out for lying the times that we've caught her. Eventually, I know it will click, and she'll become an honest young lady. I know this because my brothers tell me that they remember me, at her age, being quite skilled at hiding the truth. Being honest was evidently beaten into me. (I'm not sure where Bruce's parents went wrong. Just kidding!)

Seriously, I know Allison will "get it" because I know where my talks with the Lord have centered concerning our daughter.

For now, though, thumb sucking SEEMS to be on its way to becoming a thing of the past. But only Allison and God really know for sure!

I'm going on faith. I've bought her a pink cake for incentive. She's very excited. I'm not sure Allison knew cake could be pink. I even bought mini-chocolate chips to put in the cake after reading the "Add Ins" suggestion on the box.

I've also assured Allison that strawberry cake with chocolate chips tastes way better than your thumb does.

Actually, I've never had strawberry cake with chocolate chips. Does that mean I lied to her? Hmmmmm.

Spencer's Big Day

Today was the big day. Spencer has gone a week without his cloth. A bit longer actually, but we needed the party to happen on a Friday and not during the week.

Here's a picture from almost two and a half years ago. It was taken in a hotel in Frankfurt on the night before we flew back home from visiting mom. Clay was five, and Spencer and Allison were turning three the next day.



This is the last picture we have of Clay and his cloth. I'm so glad he's over that, but looking back, he looks so small in this picture. Anyway...

Yesterday in the newspaper I saw that "Pirates Who Don't Do Anything: a Veggie Tales Movie" was playing today. After Clay said he didn't want to see it, I decided to take Spencer and Allison on a Mommy Date this afternoon.

I told Bruce though that I was beside myself with the previews they showed. The first thing that jumped on the screen was a commercial for the season premiere of "Lost". A gun, shots fired and one of the characters saying, "Everyone on this island is going to be killed." Bruce and I watch "Lost", so I've seen the preview before, but not through the eyes of my five year olds. I'd never let them see that show. Not at all appropriate for a preview in front of a G-rated movie.

The other previews were so intense that Allison had that look that I saw all too often at Disneyworld. Terror! She hid her face at one point, both she and Spencer clutched my hand about half way through, and she was almost crying by the end of them.

We don't go to movie theaters often, and my kids very rarely see a PG movie, so I realize they may be a bit more sensitive than your average 5 and 7 year olds. But, come on. This was a Veggie Tales movie!

Once the movie started, we enjoyed it. It was cute. Not a very deep spiritual message though, which I maybe should have expected. If you go, don't leave the first time the credits pop up. There's a great "music video" at the end that is worth the price of admission on its own. My kids were bee-bopping in their seats.

This evening, we met the Moodys at O'Charley's for Spencer's celebratory meal. If you are what you eat, our kids will very shortly turn into mac 'n cheese and hot dogs. Ninety percent of the time we go out to eat, Spencer is all about the hot dogs, and Clay and Allison snarf down mac 'n cheese.

After tearing into chocolate cake for dessert, Spencer admitted it was totally worth giving up his cloth.

As I type this, Allison sits on the couch, sucking her thumb. Poor unsuspecting little thing, having no idea that in just a few short moments, I'll be pulling out my secret weapon. It's called "Hoof: Stop the Bite". A friend from Bible Study Fellowship recommended it to me when I ran into her at Walmart last year. She said she'd used it on her teenage son to break him of biting his nails.

Now, I'd think for a teenager, the name alone would do the trick. Why put anything in your mouth that's called "Hoof"?

It must be just foul tasting. You paint it on like clear fingernail polish. Several months ago, I slicked some on the thumb Allison favors for sucking. I told her it would taste bad, and so she just decided to forego that experience altogether and switched to suck the other thumb. For about a day. And then she woke up from her nap the following day and forgot long enough to pop in her favorite thumb. Well, when she came downstairs to tell me all about it, she was crying and as mad as could be.

Tonight, both thumbs will get a coating of the stuff. With any luck, we'll be eating out again next Friday night.

Unexpected Blessing

Don't you just love it when you absolutely dread something, and God just smooths the way unexpectedly and the whole ordeal ends up being nothing more than a small blip?

Here we are at Day 5 of Spencer's week without his cloth, and he has surprised me. Sometimes I'd almost put money on the kids knowing my expectations and doing the exact opposite just to make a liar out of me.

Other than the BIG meltdown last Wednesday night, and the whine session the following day (certainly due partly to his lack of sleep), Spencer has hardly noticed his missing cloths.

That Thursday morning, he was pretty mad not to get his cloth. I sat him down and told him, "Don't you remember how hard last night was?" Oh yes, he remembered. I asked him why he'd want to do that again, because if he grabbed hold of his cloth even one more time, we'd have to do that "giving it up" thing all over again. The tension on his face just melted off, and we went to the kitchen for a game of Yahtzee. On Friday, he was getting sleepy around mid afternoon. He looked at me with a frustrated expression and said, "I can't find my cloth." I said, "Oh, you're done with that, remember?" And he smiled and said, "Oh, yeah. I just forgot for a minute."

End of story.

Well, almost. He stood on the kitchen chair yesterday and stretched as far as he could reach and said that he felt "this big" now that he doesn't need his cloth anymore. And then he said, "I'm almost a grown-up now."

How is our most stubborn child easier to break of this than our most easily re-directed child? It's just a God thing. I'm convinced of it.

You see, Miss Allison is watching this whole thing unfold. And her having Spencer's example to follow is going to be so much better for us all than if she remembered and chose to go the route of Clay.

Clinging to The Cloth

Most of you family members know that pretty much from birth my boys have held, sucked and slept with a rotating variety of burp cloths. All my kids were off pacifiers by four months of age, but they each found something different to stick in their mouths at bedtime. The boys had their cloths, and Allison sucks her thumb.

Clay got broke of his dependency on his cloth a couple months after he turned five, after our trip to Germany (I wanted him to have that cloth to cling to on the long airplane flight). Afterwards, we celebrated. A burning of the cloth ceremony in which one was symbolically lit up in our fireplace, while the others were retired to the garage so Bruce could use them for washing cars. Then there was a party. With cake, of course.

It's always been our intention to break Spencer and Allison's habits when they turned five as well, but the best laid plans... you know.

Last month our twins had their dental check-ups and the hygienist said something I, again, had every intention of following through on. She told Spencer that he should give his cloths to Santa, so he could give them to some baby that needs them, because Spencer is big now. I meant to wrap those things up and put them next to Santa's milk and cookies, but I forgot.

Yesterday, I had a reminder phone call from Santa, aka Bruce, telling me to pack those cloths up and send them to the North Pole (probably the Moodys address. And I'll have to mail them on a day that Clay is in school so he won't read the address and blab!) Evidently, some other mommy really needs them for her little boy. I talked this over with Spencer, and his response was, "No, next year. We'll do it next year." Stinker!

Well, I have mounds of laundry to do, so Spencer's stash of clean cloths was out at bed time last night. Instead of fighting this out over the weekend while Bruce isn't working, we just told Spencer, "You don't need it. Go to bed." He is a night owl, so pretty much every half hour until around 11:30 p.m. he was asking one of us for his cloth. By that time, he was completely worn out. They've all been staying up way later than normal over Christmas break. The last time Spencer came downstairs, he was bawling. He wanted his cloth, and someone to sleep with him. I pulled him on my lap and within 15 minutes he was snoozing. Of course when I took him up to bed, he jostled awake, but after having mommy lie next to him for another five minutes, he was a goner!

I thought he'd for sure wake up, like Clay did when he went through this, and cry a few times in the night. Nope! First thing this morning he barrels into our bedroom and yells, "Mom, mom! I did it! I slept without my cloth. Can I have my party now?"

Daddy says one week with no cloth and then PARTY!

Spencer asked about sending his cloths to Santa, and I said that I'd have to wash them first. I said, "We're really proud of you. I knew you were ready! You must be proud of yourself, huh?" And he said, "Yes, but I want to send the cloths to Santa because then I'll have joy in my heart for sharing." I'd like to bottle some of that sweetness up and save it for a rainy, "tough teenager" day.

We were going to break Allison at the same time, but I think Spencer deserves his recognition separate from hers. Plus, I think the thumb will be harder. She keeps telling me, "It's not like you can cut it off." Ahh, but as a former thumb sucker myself, I have plenty of tricks up my sleeve. She has no idea how devious I'll be to avoid the cost of braces!

Uh, oh! Round two. Spencer is begging for his cloth.

Pray for us all!

Out with the New, In with the Old

Yep, that's right. We're getting rid of our newer, used truck that we bought last year because we bought an older, but more heavy duty, used truck. A guy Bruce works with was selling his Ford F-250 for a decent price, so now our Ford F-150 is for sale. The 250 will pull the camper more easily.

I told Bruce that the guys he works with need to stop telling him when they have vehicles for sale. He's bought two motorcycles and now a truck from different coworkers.

The weekend before New Year's Eve Bruce stayed home with the kids while I went to Chattanooga, to help chaperone our church's youth at a conference. Usually, this is Bruce's forte, but they needed more women chaperones than men, so I went. We stayed at the Chattanooga Choo-Choo hotel, which is neat. Bruce and I visited Chattanooga as newlyweds, so I kept thinking back to that time during the weekend. I missed Bruce and the kids fiercely.

I roomed with an older teen girl who I haven't spent much time with before, and her friend, and one of the young ladies in the Sunday school I co-teach. I really enjoyed getting to know her better. During the conference, she buddied around with another girl who is on our Sunday school class role, but has attended only once. So when shopping time at the mall came, I went with both of them and another girl from our class. What an experience, shopping with three very different in personality 13-year-old girls! Gives me great insight into the things to come with Allison.

The conference was different than anything I'd been to before. I thought it was probably a bit over the heads of some of the more immature youth. But one of the conference speakers nailed it when he said that we dummy down stuff for youth, and we shouldn't. He pointed out that most of them take classes in advanced math and science, so they should be able to grasp spiritual matters. He also told the young guys to grow up, saying, "This world can't wait until you're 35. Be a man now. Learn the ways of the Lord." That got me fired up, as a parent, thinking about my boys.

More than once, a speaker told the youth they should be spending time with godly adults. Boys with men and girls with women. He pretty much told them their friends were silly and couldn't be counted on to teach them proper behavior, that they should model themselves after adults. I'm not sure what the youth thought of that, but I saw either nods or huge grins from nearly every adult there.

Allison had a funny take on the weekend without mommy. Bruce had taken the kids with him to get new tires put on our new (but old-ish) truck, and while there, they befriended an older man. Bruce said the kids were talking his ear off, so Bruce told them to calm down, to which the man replied, "They aren't going to settle down as long as they've got me talking to them." Seems he was enjoying them. After a bit, he asked them if they were it or if there were more family members at home. They told them about mommy, and Allison said, "She's on vacation. With the preacher." Bruce said the man looked at him and asked, "Did she just say what I think she said?"

Bruce doesn't take advantage of teachable moments the way I do, so once I got home I talked to Allison and the boys about my weekend with teenage girls... not the preacher!

We didn't go anywhere for New Year's Eve. I thought it was wonderful to be home. We watched two rented movies in the den, and the kids watched a movie in the playroom. They had their sleeping bags spread out down there and were patiently waiting for the summons from us to come up and watch the ball drop. They all stayed up that late, watched the ball drop on TV, and then Clay decided to go to his bed to sleep. Spencer and Allison stuck to the plan, though, and slept in the playroom.

Bruce went back to work this morning for the first time since before Christmas Eve. Clay goes back to school tomorrow. And I'll be cleaning the house from top to bottom. We put away all the Christmas decorations a couple days after Christmas, because I wanted them gone before Bruce went back to work. But now the scrubbing begins!

Oh, a plug for a movie. If you haven't seen "Amazing Grace", rent it. Wonderful acting jobs and some history to boot. If you don't get teary-eyed by the end, then there's just something wrong with your ducts!

Busy, busy, busy

I haven't been on here in awhile because, as I told Bruce, I feel like I've been gone more than I've been in my own home in the last few weeks. It's a slight exaggeration, but not by much.

A few days after returning from Disney, I took the kids to Cookeville to visit with my family there. We stayed for only three days and then rushed back to celebrate Christmas with the Moody side of the family.

While the kids and I were driving home that Sunday morning, a sweet couple had brought to church gifts for our kids for Christmas. Bruce brought them home, and once we got home and after naps, the kids opened them.

This is Allison's reaction to the earrings she received.



Afterwards, we headed to the Moodys for a relaxed evening with family and food. That night, our kids, and the other Moody grandkids, stayed the night at Meemaw and Peepaw's house. Bruce and I had planned to wrap gifts when we got home that evening, without worrying about the kids sneaking up on us, but we stayed over Bruce's parent's house until around 11:30 that night. I was just too tired to wrap then. The next morning, Christmas Eve, we went to the Moody's for brunch.

Here's a few pictures Bruce took the night before Christmas Eve and on Christmas Eve. I was lame this year and never held the camera. Bruce isn't in a single picture. I actually feel pretty bad about that, but I didn't even think of it at the time.

Here's a picture of five of the Moody grandkids.



And here's Joshua, who was MIA from the previous picture.



Our kids are BIG into making paper airplanes. Sometimes I find 20 planes scattered throughout the house in a day. If I throw them away, they magically reappear by the next day. Here Spencer is sharing the joy with Colin and Madison.



Meanwhile, Clay was racking up the pool balls.



Just a few pictures Bruce took while practicing his camera skills.

Brandi.



Sharon.



Roy.



Bryan.



Alondra.



Me. Can you see a marked difference in my expression and everyone else's? Bruce does not normally capture me well. Oh well.



All six grandkids, waiting to open their gifts.



In just a few more days/weeks, there will be a new little Moody grand-daughter to add to upcoming photos. But it'll be awhile before she's outside, being chased by Bruce's camera like the rest of the kids and adults were.

Here's Clay and Colin.



Bryan.



Spencer.



Colin.



Brandon.



Allison and Sadie, Brandon and Brandi's dog.



Madison and Rex, Roy and Sharon's dog.



Clay.



Running to the swing.



Allison.



Brandon pushing Allison.



Madison, future GAP model. That's just what pops into my head every time I look at pictures of her.



Joshua.



Clay.



Spencer.



Bryan, Madison, Roy and Brandon.



Okay, funny story here. Below, Alondra is wearing turquoise earrings she received from the Moodys for Christmas. Each of us daughters-in-law received a pair. And Sharon matched earring styles to personal styles perfectly. Alondra's pair are long and dangly. Brandi's are medium sized, hanging about half as much as Alondra's. And mine are little squares with no dangle! We should have had all three of us wearing our earrings in one picture.



Back at home Christmas morning. Our kids were pretty happy with all the toys from Santa and mom and dad. Here's Allison and her Barbie, and Clay and his Brain Age game for this DS.



Spencer and his racing track.



In their stockings, the boys got these miner's head lights, which were a huge hit. They both wear them constantly. The other night, when I went into Clay's room to kiss him after they were all asleep, I found him passed out, with the miner's light strapped to his head, shining brightly.



Roy made Spencer and Allison bookshelves for their rooms. They love them! However, I am beginning to think they are as much a gift to me as to the kids. Finally, I can walk into Packrat Spencer's room and see carpet. Spontaneous vacumming will finally be spontaneous.