
Wise Men
But I was never into the costume thing. I was never creative enough to think of some grandiose costume, so I always dressed as a baby or a cheerleader.
Come on, girls, raise your hand if you ever dressed as a baby or cheerleader for Halloween! I know there were many of us!
As a parent, I hate Halloween because of the confusion that surrounds it. I hate how so many people choose to make it scary. Why can't it just be an innocent evening of fun?
Because the world tends to make Halloween all about ghosts, witches, and jack-o-lanterns, Rick and I have decided to not celebrate Halloween with trick-or-treating. Yes, we want our kids to have an evening of fun and bring home lots of candy for me to eat, I mean for them to eat.
But we feel convicted to glorify God in all that we do. Not that we'll achieve that perfectly on this side of heaven, but we strive to do the best we can. Halloween, at its core, does not glorify God. Because of that, we have chosen to take our boys to our church's festival every year. They always have a great time.
Two Sundays ago, our church announced that they want the kids to dress up as a Biblical character or creature. Upon reading that announcement in the bulletin, I began to hyperventilate.
Rick and I discussed it later that day. Basically, it boiled down to three choices:
1) Avoid the the festival, and stay home to watch the boys' disappointment while the neighborhood kids trick-or-treat. We would be parents of the year, I'm sure.
2) Attend the festival without costumes of any kind. Really, this option pleased me just fine. Until I realized that this option would also reward me the mother of the year award.
3) Suck it up, get creative, and make costumes.
We settled on option 3. Rick had the idea of dressing them as the three wise men. Bravo, Daddy! He wins daddy of the year award!
And my mom wins grandmother of the year for making the costumes. Did you think I would sew them?! Oh, no, honey, the boys would wouldn't have costumes until Easter, if we left it to my doing.
Here is a photo of our dress rehearsal today. I may be a bit biased, but I believe they are some good-lookin' wise men!

Liam: We need swords!
Me: No, you don't need swords. The wise men took gifts to baby Jesus, and I'm pretty sure they didn't fight in front of him.
Jack: Garrett, I like your crown. It's pretty.
Me: Jack, your crown looks just like Garrett's.
Jack: Oh! [Ran to the mirror to check it out.]
Garrett: I'm ALL excited!
Liam's First Football Game
Here he and I are before the game began. I know this was before the game, because a) the sun is shining and b) so are our faces.

Here he is in Daddy's arms. Liam is screaming so loud he had to cover his own ears.

And here he's convinced Daddy to hold him up on his back.

But I can still thank Coach Fran, because this loss seals the deal. Bye bye, Fran. Don't let the door hit you on your way out next month.
Liam, we'll take you to another game some day, but let's wait til you can witness a winning game.
Friday Funny
I'm sorry, Sir Bystander. I promise we don't encourage such things around here.
Tiny Talk Tuesday
Me: Liam, why did God give you eyes?
Liam: So I can see, silly.
M: Why did He give you ears?
L: So I can hear. [giggling]
M: Why did He give you feet?
L: So I can walk. [jumping]
M: Why did He give you hands?
L: So I can pick you flowers.
Ahhh!
For more TTT, visit Not Before 7.
The New Parenting Era
I won't ask for applause, if you'll just join me with a sigh of relief...thank you.
Although Jack and Garrett are only 26 days apart, I decided several months ago to tackle their potty training separately. One of the boys is more compliant, and the other is, um, well, he's more stubborn. I won't name names, but I tackled the more compliant child's potty training first.
Jack (2 1/2) began potty training in July, and he's been doing very well since the end of September. Garrett announced Thursday afternoon that he wanted to use the potty and to wear underwear. And when Garrett announces that he's ready to do something, he means business! I gave him some underwear right then, and he's only had two accidents since.
Both boys still wear diapers to bed, so we're not completely finished with buying Pampers, Huggies or whatever cheap brand I find. But Rick and I are already counting ourselves a raise by the significant decrease!
And I am one happy mama!
Friday Funny
He does not mean this:
He is referring to this ice pack:


Name That Structure
Now, will the Cowboys show themselves worthy of such an impressive structure? Only time will tell....
Old Faithful
I signed in to post on God's faithfulness today. I'm not sure that there's an appropriate transition from, "HEY! Look at me! I have 200 posts!" to "HEY! Look at God's faithfulness!" But stay with me....
Part of my daily quiet time is to read a short devotional by Jon Courson from his A Day's Journal. He gave a great illustration today about observing Old Faithful in Yellowstone National Park.
He says:
There we are, standing by the fence waiting for Old Faithful to erupt--as it does every 92 minutes. But after about 30 minutes, you become bored and you see a goose which you follow into the woods. I remain by the fence and see the spectacle of Old Faithful's geyser. You, on the other hand, miss out because you're on a wild goose chase. Finally you say, 'This is dumb. I'm going back to position myself close to Old Faithful again.'
Now, when Old Faithful sees you coming, it doesn't say, 'Well, well, well. Look who's finally decided to show up. There's no way I will erupt for you. You've been on a wild goose chase.' No, Old Faithful erupts regularly, faithfully, no matter where you are or aren't.
Paul [referring to II Timothy 2:3-4] is saying that God is, in the best sense of the word, Old Faithful, because His blessings are continually flowing. If I go off on a wild goose chase, I won't be blessed--not because the blessings aren't there, but because I've moved away. But once I realize I'm in the woods on some crazy excursion and return to the geyser of the goodness of God's grace, I find that God is faithful still....
God cannot deny Himself, gang. He's not faithful one day, and frustrated the next. He's not generous one day, but stingy the next. He is continually and completely faithful.
Father, forgive me for the many times I have wandered out of your will and missed your blessings. But thank you for being the geyser of faithfulness. Help me to apply this illustration to my life. Amen.
Notes on the Sate Fair
This is the boys as we entered the gates. Garrett (2 1/2) wore that goofy face most of the day, and he had a grand ol' time. Liam (4) and Jack (2 1/2) managed to have a good time, but they had to start the day off with frowns due to the lack of afternoon nap. Note to self: Take the boys to the fair earlier in the day next year.







We also took the boys into the children's barnyard, ate junk food (not in the barnyard), checked out the auto show, and did a lot of people watching. In the end, our legs and wallets were sore, so we headed home with hopes of returning next year.
Tiny Talk Tuesday
Me: Garrett, I can't give you Santa Claus.
G: No, senta cwaus!
Me: Oh! Dental floss, yes! Go ask Daddy.
For more TTT, visit Not Before 7.
In Spite of Me
Sure enough, he sat down with pencil and paper and wrote out "ICE". I praised him and asked him where he learned to spell this word, assuming that he would say something about Noggin or Playhouse Disney, because my self-esteem is all wrapped up in my ability to properly teach my child to read. Surprisingly, he said, "At Kroger!"
And then it all made sense. I had bought groceries with all three boys on Saturday morning, a truly exciting event that everyone should try next Saturday. As I stood in the checkout line and fretted over how over-budget I was, Liam stood by the bagged ice freezer. At the time, I assumed he was fascinated by the ice's ability to stand frozen in time. But now I realize that he was studying the letters on the display case, which also explains why he wrote it in all caps.
I tell you, this boy will be ready for Texas A&M engineering school next year...in spite of me.
A First
My mom was sitting closest to him and quickly whispered in his ear that he was being rude, while I crawled under the table. A lesson about not staring, pointing, or shouting followed.
Cheers!
I am mulling over a meaningful post idea, but I am short on time today. Stay tuned....
WFMW: Baby Monitors
The boys' bedrooms are upstairs, and ours is downstairs. If they are sick or upset during the night, I don't always hear them. I do have a baby monitor in Jack and Garrett's room, but the problem is that I haven't found a monitor to put in Liam's room that doesn't interfere and cause horrible static between the two monitors. I could hear other babies down the street better than I could hear my boys the last time I tried a monitor in each bedroom! Who really wants to wake up at 2am to the cry of a baby not in your care?!
Jack and Garrett's monitor is made by Safety 1st. The monitor I tried in Liam's room was Fisher Price. I am not certain if the interference was caused by the two particular brands that I had or not. I'd rather not go buy additional monitors without some experienced opinions from anyone out there.
Any suggestions out there? Hit me with your best shot!
Prayers Please
The Cup Runneth Over Chronicles
But it seems as if we've turned the corner, as Jack has been dry since Friday! I repeat. Jack has been dry since Friday!
On Saturday afternoon, he was going potty, and I went to check in on him, because leaving him for any length of time in a room where there is water, a toilet, toilet paper, soap, a stool, and a light switch is a mere disaster waiting to happen. I also decided to use this potty visit to praise him for being dry all day, and he was quite proud of himself.
Suddenly, he spotted the boo-boo on my forehead. (This is where I should show you a photo of my boo-boo, but I don't want to you to think that I take photos of my injuries in order to chronicle them. I don't, just in case you're wondering.) He asked what happened, and I explained that I burned my head with my flat iron...again.
I'm a real whiz with the flat iron. If you've ever wanted to learn the skill of straightening your bangs, just ask me. But I digress.
After I told Jack about burning my forehead, he said, "Poow Mommy."
Which cracked me up! I'm sure that "Poow Mommy" isn't that funny to you, but it is to me, and this blog is supposed to serve as a journal for my family.
I tell you this story because I have been doing a lot of thinking about this blog lately. There are days when I just want to pull the plug and quit blogging. Those are usually the days when I'm too worried about my readers. Worried if they're having a good time, worried if they'll want to visit daily, constantly trying to please them.
When I first began this blog, I intended it to be my family's journal, and I feel as if I've lost sight of that goal over the past several weeks. I want to earnestly attempt to return to my original blogging intention to chronicle my family's life, and I hope that you'll find it amusing, entertaining, and perhaps even challenging. But even if you don't, I want to carry on in my job of creating memories for my family. And I need this blog to be my memory, because mine left me the day I became a mother.