the new game

Have you ever noticed that you can see faces in the silliest places?

o.O

 

A few weeks ago, no 5 was playing with a pair of craft eyes (we call them googly eyes).  She got busy doing something else, and forgot she left them on the dining room table.  I put them together on the end of my finger and casually asked no 1 if she ever felt like she was being watched. 
She looked puzzled and then I shifted my gaze down to my finger with the googly eyes on it.  She nearly jumped out of her skin and then fell over with a case of the giggles. 
Since then, whenever I see a face in something, (a pair of scissors, cloud formations, coins on a table, etc) I will just as casually ask her if she ever feels like she is being watched. 

I love it when she goes limp with laughter.

yay her! yay me!

No 1 got back from her senior trip to Disney yesterday afternoon.

 

While she was away, somebody asked me if I missed her.
 
"No, not really," I replied.  "Mostly I am just so excited for her to have a wonderful time.  So even though I miss her, it's not nearly as much as I'm gonna miss her this fall," I said... surprising myself with a slap in the face from the cold, wet, rag of reality, then fighting back a gasp of emotion.

This was her trip.  I wanted her to completely enjoy herself.  I was so proud of myself that I refrained from being clingy (like I tend to be).  I didn't inundate her with phone calls and texts.  Nor did I insist that she touch base with me every day, although she did of her own volition.

But, y'know, it's funny how the trip had two main layers of meaning. 

1. For her, it was the last childhood hoorah with friends she has had since Kindergarten.  The last hold on being a carefree kid.... I mean, it's Disney after all.
2. For me, it was a trial run of being without her, something I thought I'd not be able to do, but at the same time, being graced with the realization that, really and truly, I am excited about what lies ahead for her.

I guess this means we're growing up, doesn't it?

what goes up must come down

In case you hadn't noticed over the past several years, no 4 gets pretty excited about stuff. 

Think: helium balloon

Late last week, he climbed into the car after school and could barely breathe he was so excited about the fact that the next day, his class was going to have a new student!  That would have been thrilling enough in itself, but the main reason he was over the top was that the student was coming from Poland! 

See, this is new and exotic stuff to a seven year old.

Immediately when we got home, he crashed through the door and got on Google translator.  He looked up phrases like, "Hello," and "I'm glad you are here," and then he got distracted and typed nonsensical words to see if he could stump the translator.  Then he decided he would bring his book about the Vatican to school with him the next day to show to his new friend.  We discussed the fact that PJPII was the first Polish pope, so, no 4 was going to point that out... y'know... in case the new kid hadn't yet heard.

So, yeah, um, the story gets a little anti-climactic at this point.

Next day's report:  "He talked with an accent, but can understand English pretty good."

special night

When I said my prayers this morning, I thanked the Lord for what was going to be a day filled with graces.  This was one of them:



The face of one
very excited young man
just before he made his
First Reconciliation!

I don't remember being quite as excited about my First Reconciliation as he was about it.... so much so, that, well, let's suffice it to say the span of time between my first and my second confession may have been a tad too lengthy. 
I have since learned that Reconciliation is a beautiful thing and that I should look forward to it with as much zeal as no 4 did this evening.

on becoming a culinary daredevil

After the rutabagas were such a hit recently, I figured this week I would try to sneak in another new vegetable.  

Beets.

I remember back in 1980 or so, my dad had to have an emergency appendectomy.  Mom took me to see him in the hospital and his main complaint was that the hospital served canned beets every day.  I may have inherited a bias against beets from his hospital cafeteria experience.  

Several times over the past year or so, friends have raved to me about how yummy fresh beets are.  When they see me start to retch, they usually insert the fact that canned beets, like canned pineapple, are a whole 'nuther animal, and are not worth consuming.  Canned beets are surely what Satan must serve for dinner each night, probably alongside calf liver.  

*shudder* 

I hope I never have to find out.

I decided it was high time I give them a fair shake, so three beets came home from the grocery store run.

....sounds like the start of a joke, doesn't it?  Three beets walk into a bar... 

After I scrubbed the beets thoroughly, I diced them, tossed them in olive oil, coated them in grated Parmesan cheese, wrapped them in tin foil, and baked them at 450 for about 40 minutes.  They were delicious.  King and I definitely liked them, the kids mostly loved them.  

After dinner we researched the health benefits of beets.  One thing I was happy to learn is that beets contain something called betaine, which lowers homocysteine levels in the blood.  The highly toxic homocysteine makes platelets clot and atherosclerotic-plaque form.  High levels of homocysteine in the blood lead to the development of heart disease & stroke. 

Hrm... I might just be following a trail of beet juice here, but since my dad died of heart related issues, my guess is that he should have learned to love beets!

ps - real men (and kids) love quiche

So... quiche was what was for dinner tonight.  I made it with a store brand pie crust.  In slicing it, the crust got all crumbly and came off.
Oh darn. 
Falling on the sword with martyr-like bravery, I ate the crust rather than serving slices of quiche surrounded by messy pieces of crust all over the plate. 

No 5 came tipping into the kitchen and peeked around me to check the empty pie pan, then inquired,

"Where's the stem to my quiche?"

perspective

I always hated the song "Amazing Grace" when I was a youngster.  Then I grew up and recognized that I was the blind wretch who had been saved.

Now the song reduces me to tears.