I volunteer for a walking field trip to the post office with the kindergartners and somehow the five wiggliest children in the entire class are at the end of the line with me, one of whom does not speak English. After many utterances of “Escucha eschucha!!” and “The next child who picks up a rock…” and “Out of the road, out of the road!” We made it safely back to class. Just more of what I do at home every day. Harrowing but fun.

Sweet Boy#2–I find him amusing himself by putting double hand-prints on the glass of our living room window, over and over again.

At Sweet Boy#1′s insistence, Sweet Boy#3 fills one of those giant plunger style squirt guns in the bathtub and sneaks out into the hall. He gets me in his sights and lets loose. Emptying the entire gun all over my front.

But the winner this week…

Sweet Boy#2–I look around and can’t find my middle boy. After a bit of looking I discover him once more on the roof of our Ford Explorer. This time with a handful of “Gak” attempting to thread it onto the antenna and put it underneath the windshield wipers.

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up carefully on my desk.

Happy Mother’s Day!

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Sweet Boy#2–I see that my blond boy has smuggled a red permanent marker outside and colored his entire body and face with red splotches and spots.

Momma–”What is this!”

Sweet Boy#2–”It’s my disguise.”

Momma–”Oh.” Words fail me on occasion.

Sweet Boy#3–Goes “Kickfuzzing” at Grandma Donna’s. This involves rushing around the lawn in his cowboy boots kicking

puffy dandelions with wild abandon.

Sweet Boy#2–Uses Daddy’s special double sided tape to make a web for his plastic spider on one of the living room lamps.

Sweet Boy#3–Fills his pants pocket with those caterpillar seed pod things from Grandma Donna’s willow tree. I find them in the washing-machine after I have run the load of course.

Sweet Boy#3–Asked Daddy how to spell out the name of his favorite video game “Pikman” and carefully writes it on a paper and gives it to me to tape onto my leg so that I will always have it with me. I do, of course.

I catch the boys trying to launch a kite by having Sweet Boy#1 stand on top of our Ford Explorer and hold the kite up high in the air while Sweet Boy#2 gets a running start and rips it from his grasp and into the sky. It works perfectly…and terrible parents that we are we tell them “no” just the same.

Sweet Boy#1 and Sweet Boy#2 pretend that they are baby hummingbirds and they spend many happy minutes running around the house emitting happy buzzing noises as they drink nectar. But Sweet Boy#3 is their owner and when they decide that they are unhatched hummingbirds in eggs, he alarms his brothers by pretending to juggle their eggs in a wild manner.

I call the boys to the table for dinner…and they all come, but Sweet Boy#2 is buck naked. He obediently runs over and sits down, only to be indignant when I send him back into the other room for his clothes. What an evil mother this poor boy was born to!

But the winner this week…

Sweet Boy#2 is upset with me at bedtime. I must have ordered him into his bunk or something. And so he takes his jammies, opens our second story living room window behind my back, and throws the jammies out to their doom. Then he defiantly informs me of his actions, pauses a moment and bursts into tears because now he wants to wear those particular jammies. I decide that this is an excellent opportunity for a natural consequence and inform him that anything thrown out the window is not to be worn that day. He is horrified and informs me that if this is the case he will not wear anything at all!!! I let him know that he must at least wear undies. I come back into the room to find my son in bed, naked. Not only has he not put his undies on his body, but he has taken the contents of his entire undie drawer and dumped them into the bathtub…with water. And then my sweet little blond was heartbroken and full of righteous anger as I took away his movie pick. Life is truly tragic and cold.

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This week I read War of the Worlds by H.G. Wells. He writes this classic Sci-Fi as though he were putting together a newspaper account of the attack of the martians upon Great Britain. This book is incredibly imaginative, different from modern alien movies and books that I have encountered in that it feels so fresh, not being steered by the vast collection of sci-fi that we have now. Invasion literature was quite popular at the time but it was usually the Germans or the French not Martians. He goes into great detail about the appearance of the aliens and their technology and their brutal conquest of the isle of Britain. His imagery is harsh, clear, and immediate. I enjoyed the plot and the writing, but wished for a bit more character development. This is not a warm novel, it is a cold delivery of the facts of war on most occasions, although the protagonist does long to be reunited with his wife on occasion. All in all I enjoyed this classic and am eager to read other books by H.G. Wells in the future. But now I think I’ll read a fluffy Christian romance to offset all of the science and grim slaughter.

Picture courtesy of Wikipedia

Not dust, snow, nor deadly thirst

Can slow the Cyclones

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