This is what my son had for breakfast yesterday morning.
At first glance, you might assume those are sausages beside the eggs. But they're actually pickles.
Because my kids are still on summer vacation and that's how we roll.
Our wall phone (do people even have those anymore?) kicked the bucket, so we got a new one. As I was looking it over, I noticed this button at the bottom marked "Noise Reduction."
|So... any ideas on what this does??|
Not sure exactly what this means, but I don't think the tiny circuit board inside this phone can handle that task for our family. We'd need something more like the size of one of those government-owned supercomputers that take up an entire room.
I'm tempted to try the noise reduction feature on the phone, but I'm afraid the collective uproar of our 6 children might make it burst into flames. And we did just buy it, after all.
Earlier this week I pulled up Google to look up something random and saw this:
I had to look at it for seriously 30 seconds before I realized there was not a diagram of a scowling uterus and fallopian tubes embedded in the Google logo.
Truthfully I'm still not sure what it is. It might be an angry piece of pizza doing pull-ups, but I'm not sure that's any less odd than the uterus.
By the way, I was looking up the Olympian Kerri Walsh Jennings because I heard there was some controversy over a comment she made. As it turns out, the Internet was just trying to make a a big deal out of nothing. Again.
This week I've been thinking about life, and right now it feels like I'm standing on a subway platform with a train rocketing past so fast it blows my hair back and knocks my hat off.
On Sunday my 12-year-old was asked to give her first talk in church (in our church we have no paid minister to give sermons, members of the congregation take turns instead), followed by two of my friends' boys (ack, they're not boys, they're men) who are leaving to serve two-year religious missions to Brazil and Hungary.
Then we came home and my daughter started talking about how she's going to be out of the house by the time the baby is in first grade and she "won't get to see him grow up."
It's all too weird. Contemplating the passage of time is giving me bouts of disorientation and/or vertigo.
But I also feel so lucky. I feel so stinking blessed when nobody is screaming and we're all sitting together in the living room watching the baby sitting in his brother's lap. Because this is the best it gets.
After church a woman who'd taught my daughter's Sunday School class years ago approached me and told me she loved my daughter's talk and was watching it thinking, "That's my girl up there!"
It made me think of how grateful I am for the "village" we've found at church. Because we all take turns teaching the classes and leading youth groups, each kid has so many "moms" (and "dads") watching them grow up and rooting for them and caring about what happens to them. It's just cool.
In fact, just this Sunday my toddler wandered over to someone else's pew and started showing his toy cars to the nearest adult. We'll just pretend I was thrilled to be part of the village instead of mad that Phillip zoned out while he was on toddler duty and didn't stop him from escaping our pew.
Since waiting until the last minute to go school supply shopping last year turned out not to be a good idea, I decided to get it done earlier this year. I went to Staples and only took one child instead of three. Also a good idea.
My son was incredibly helpful in managing the list and getting everything we needed, including a basic calculator for his sister.
|Way cooler than anything I owned as a kid. Except my Lisa Frank Trapper Keeper. That was awesome.|
I was saying how cool that it could go in a 3-ring binder and my son asked, "Did they even have calculators when you were a kid?"
Yes, for your information, and sadly they were the most high-tech device I had access to until I was 16.
Do you ever run out of steam when it's time to get the kids in bed? Bedtime here is 8 PM, but Phillip and I were having one of those nights, and finally at 8:15 or so as the kids were playing in the yard and the sun was starting to set he asked, "So what's the next step here? The kids are running around in the dark screaming..."
And all I could do was look at him and say, "Well, do you want them running around screaming in HERE?"
Maybe not Mom of the Year material, but I thought it was a good question.