Blabber

The Man is squeezing in a post-bedtime workout, and the kids are off to dream about coughing and football and getting to wear much beloved Halloween costumes to preschool tomorrow (I guess this is the autumnal equivalent of visions of sugar plum dancing in their heads). And I am sitting here thinking about, well, honestly, nothing in particular except for the fact that I should be writing, and so here I am: writing.

Some of the exciting costumes that will be debuting tomorrow.

It's hard for me not to correct myself and say that I am merely "pretending to write". It makes me think of where that line is between practicing the piano and playing the piano. When do you stop practicing and just play? When do I stop pretending to write and realize that I'm actually writing? I'm not positive. I recognize only that this is good exercise for my mind and heart, that forcing myself to sit down and type something (anything) is healthy for me at a soul level.

Bruiser finds dinosaurs healthy at a soul level.
Also dragons.

So here's what we'll do. I'll sit here with my feet propped up on the coffee table and my window open, and I'll pretend that you're beside me, curled up with a throw pillow on your lap, and I'll tell you the things that I think you may want to know.

Here's Iron Man being artistic at the aforementioned
coffee table.

First, I'm really sorry that all three of the pets are in the room grooming themselves. I realize that it's rude. I didn't know that dogs could chew their nails before Trigger. I wish it was still a thing that I didn't know because loud.  And also, gross.

Trigger's partner in nail chewing.
She may be cuter than he is though...

Second, I apologize for the lack of pumpkins in our home. I realize that, as a basic white female, I am breaking lots of rules by not having a pile of miniature gourds gracing my mantle and at least one very large decorative pumpkin that will be skillfully carved into something amazing before the 31st. The truth is that we've been planning to take the kids to get pumpkins but first we realized that the Man was actually home and so we kind of wanted to take him with us, and then we got side tracked by twenty gazillion other things, and then the kids got sick (see above coughing reference) and now it's the 25th and...you guessed it...no pumpkins. Seriously though: profuse apologies all around.

Fall mantle: no pumpkins.
Will we survive?!

Third, I'm sorry that I can't sit still for longer than ten minutes at a time but Bruiser was convinced that Blythe was still in his room (she wasn't), and then Tiny wanted me to light the candles at the top of the stairs, and then Bruiser felt the need to inform me his throat hurts (yes, that's what happens when you get sick), and now I'm hearing the baby (but I'm going to pretend like she's going back to sleep on her own). This is why my thoughts are all disjointed and out of whack. Also, I had a six year old tell me today that I have too many kids. Which is a distinct possibility, but I like them all so much that I'm not sure which one I should give back.

I especially like this one.

Fourth, here at the home front (important news you are dying to hear!), we are finishing up football season. Tonight was Littles' last game and tomorrow is Tiny's. At the beginning of football season, I wasn't sure we'd survive, but at the end, I'm actually a little sad that it's over. I made football mom friends. I sliced oranges like a boss. My slow cooker and I bonded at a deep level. And it was fun watching the big boys learn and grow and be awesome under someone else's supervision. Do you think they'll give me until Christmas before they start trying to talk me into baseball?

Real men play sports and take care of their baby sister.
Evidently.

Fifth, if I go back and add a few cute pictures of the kids, can I give myself a check mark for today and move on with my life? Especially if I promise to next time actually write something bordering on coherence possibly with a legitimate point? Thanks. Good plan.

Let's go get ice cream now.

This is pretty much everyone's response to this blog post.

Bookish Blog with Baby Sightings

Last week was drenched in happy rain which meant cancelled football practice, puddle jumping, hot cocoa parties, pillow piles, and, you guessed it, lots of books. I thought I'd share a few of the ones that have been circulating in our home, just in case you were looking for reading material of your own.

First, the kids and I are still plowing through the Little House books. Plum Creek wound up last week, and this week we are already neck deep in Silver Lake. So much drama: new baby Grace! dead Jack! blind Mary! And we're only on chapter two. Also, Bruiser took the time to ask me if Trigger was old or new. You know, just in case Trigs decided to join Jack in the Happy Hunting Grounds.

Meanwhile, the twins and I re-enjoyed (for the third time) The Giant Jumperee by Julia Donaldson. Cute, cute, cute. And Donaldson gave us some great discussion about when your fears are just in your head instead of based on reality. Here's Bee showing you her favorite page.

We satisfied Bruiser's need for machine books with Firefighter Duckies by Frank Dormer (which was charming and funny and needed to be read at an excited yell) and Little Excavator by Anna Dewdney. As Dewdney's work goes, Little Excavator was not one of my favorites. Sure, it rhymes and it scans, but mostly it just fit the bill for a book about something with a motor and wheels, which is about as discerning as three year old boys get. Sad truths. I didn't find it to have any of the humor and sweetness of the Llama Llama books, but maybe that was just me. Bruiser loved it.

For the inquiring minds that need to know, Twinkle enjoyed any and all books presented to her. This isn't saying much as she tends to happiness, not discernment. I'll give her a grace period.

The Bigs have been obsessed with Nathan Hale's Hazardous Tales by Nathan Hale (the author, not the spy, but based on the spy, not the author--which I thoroughly enjoyed). True confession: I haven't read all of them but I have skimmed through parts. I did also do my research. History in comic form with a good dose of humor and imagination thrown in.

I included both shots of Tiny reading Nathan Hale simply because I couldn't decide which was cuter: the cat in the background or the baby butt exiting the frame. So far the boys have plowed through One Dead Spy (set during the Revolutionary War), Big Bad Ironclad! (Civil War), Treaties, Trenches, Mud, and Blood (WW1), and Alamo All-Stars (which was what got them sucked into the series initially). If nothing else, I love that these books are giving us a chance to talk about history. The illustrations help my boys envision the past more fully. We had a rousing discussion of about war tactics (trench warfare, guerrilla warfare, attacking head on, etc) which about used up all my military knowledge. From now on, I'll be fielding all questions to the Man.

Meanwhile, I plowed through two different trilogies. The first was Orson Scott Card's Pathfinder series. If you like your sci-fi with a heavy dose of physics, philosophy and time travel theory, these will be a good fit for you. Personally, I find all of the above to be quite fun, and I like it when a good novel (or three) makes my mind work as well as entertaining me. I also didn't mind thinking through the evolutionary framework Card insisted on providing. It's always good to consider why I believe what I believe and then go from there.

The other trilogy was Colors of Madeleine by Jaclyn Moriarty. So many great plot twists that kept me engaged while also teaching me fascinating information about Isaac Newton, color, and light. Moriarty's humor keeps it fun but her writing provides depth and empathy, helping the reader see from multiple perspectives. Young Adult fantasy done right.

Lastly, I've been relishing Shauna Niequist's Present Over Perfect. It's been on my To Read list for quite some time, and it's been worth the wait. It showed up at the library at the perfect time, enabling me to think through how I really want my days spent and who I want to be. Months ago I had a friend tell me that as she passed her 35th birthday she thought to herself, "Is this who I want to be at forty?" and adjusted accordingly. This book goes hand in hand with that idea in my mind. It's helping me to slow my mind and heart even as my hands are busy caring for the precious ones entrusted to me.

Anyway, now that you've enjoyed the myriad pictures of my myriad cute kids, go forth and stock your book list! And know that I will never lead you astray, even if Bruiser valiantly continues to brainwash me into accepting machine books as classic lit.