A sister is born for adversity...

Mmmm mmmm good. Frozen yogurt from Costco.

*sigh* Yum.

"I'm all done already."

"Oh, that's nice for you. I'm not."

"Whoa there, Cuddlebug! You almost dropped that whole sundae."

"You know...I can help you with it, if you want me to."

"Um...."

"No thank you."

"Well. I don't really want any, anyway."

"No. Really. I'm good. I'm glad for her."

"Ack! I can't stand it!"

"O.k., o.k., let me think. What can I do to get this deal done?"

Fifi's thinking, "Who needs t.v. when little sisters
are so amusing? Everywhere. All the time.
Except when they are not."

Here is where I decide that some lawyer, somewhere, at some time,
once told Dumpling that possession licking is 9/10ths of the law.

"Tastes like chicken!"

"So....? Can I have some? Friend?"

Uh oh. Fun moment over.

Vainty--the Locust that Ate My High School Years

Me, class of '86. Two hours hair and make-up--no wonder I never learned to play an instrument.

Lunch Lady

The lunch lady at Cuddlebug's school--who is Me, of course--took good care in feeding peanut butter and honey to the 5 year old with four loose teeth.

"The Preposterous Creature"

Fifi's nickname for the woman who probably won't be President, after all.

Nothing personal against the woman, but Fifi is 12 and has already decided that she will bake cookies and she will stand by her man--like Tammy Wynette. *wink*

Chivalry Lives

It's a big night for Dumpling. A local homeschool group is hosting a semi-formal gathering of fathers and daughters. It's a time for dads to model for their girls, what chivalry looks like: opening car doors, pulling out her chair at dinner, bringing her a cup of punch...

A little style to the hair...

And a big sister who kindly acts as a "lady in waiting." Hey, Cuddlebug, don't you want to help?

Fifi's enjoying the role more than she expected to...

And then she pulled Dumpling off the edge of the bed for being a little too uppity!

Are you o.k., Cuddlebug? What's the matter? Hmmmm?

And here's the big moment! A grand descent of the stairs to her awaiting prince-on-loan.

She didn't know she was getting flowers!

Are they real, Daddy? Yes, Sweetie--they're real.

She could get used to this.

To the carriage. By this time, she is milking the moment for everything it's worth--and then some. I thought she might decide that he should pick her up and place her in the car.

Cuddlebug is absolutely despondent. I couldn't tell if she was jealous of Dumpling for her turn at the Father-Daughter formal, or if she was jealous of Daddy for taking her playmate away.

Here's Fifi. She's incredulous to think she is related to this drama queen.

A final good bye.

I'm happy to report that as soon as they were out of sight, I suggested a trip around the corner to Sonic for dinner and I thought I heard Cuddlebug think, "Dumpling? Dumpling who?"

Uh...Miss?

So yesterday, the girls and I were in the bakery section of our grocery monopoly store when I heard behind me, the voice of a young man say, "Miss? What's today's date?"

"Miss?" I thought to myself. "Miss?" Wow-wee! I whipped around to find a 17 year old boy looking at the expiration dates on some rolls.

I was in a jovial mood, and even more so now because someone in Texas had just called me, "Miss." In Texas, you're a ma'am as soon as you can speak. But I was raised in Arizona where ma'ams are decrepit old ladies. (No offense to decrepit old ladies.)

So, I'm feeling giddy. Sometimes I say too much when I'm feeling giddy. Too much, being code for: silly. O.k.--stupid.

So I smile and say, "It's the 30th. Right, Fifi? Friday is the 1st? Yes. Today is the 30th."

And he said thanks, and we all went back to our business.

Until...

Until, in my giddiness, I turned back around, stepped toward him and said something like, "I feel like I should pay you money for calling me, "Miss," instead of "Ma'am," because no one has called me that in, like, 15 years!"

Yes, I said, "...like..." as in "like, fer sure." *sigh*

To this friendly gesture I got a combination response:

Crickets chirping, and the dreaded deer-in-the-headlights stare.

So, I turned back around and went about my business.

Unfortunately, I wasn't alone, and so my weird moment wasn't going to die in anonymity that quickly.

Fifi asked me what I said. I pretended it was nothing. She hemmed and hawed. I said it didn't matter. She went quiet and looked uncomfortable, and I knew I had done it. I had mortified my children.

I put my arm around them as we began to walk and told them I was sorry that I embarrassed them. And then Fifi chimed in, "Well, no. I think he thought that you were correcting him."

So then I was embarrassed for my kids, and sad that I had maybe embarrassed some stranger. I left Fifi and Dumpling in the Hallmark aisle to look up a birthday card for a friend and took Cuddlebug over to the produce. As I walked the aisle, I replayed the conversation in my head, and stopped on a dime when I realized a more probable truth.

That kid wasn't talking to me at all. He was addressing Fifi.

And then I laughed out loud at the thought of his real reaction--the one he was too polite to give voice to--when all that hope for what was on the other side of those long, beautiful brown locks atop a thin, healthy figure was crushed by the reality of my wrinkled, blotchy complexion accepting a compliment that wasn't meant for me!

Oh ho ho ho...it does make me laugh. Until I cackle. Unto a good cry.

A Dog Party! A Big Dog Party!

(inspired by the P.D. Eastman children's book)

Now the cars stop.
Now all the dogs get out.
And now look where those dogs are going!

To the park! To the park!

Over they go to the far side of the field.
Why?
Will they work there?
Will they play there?
What is over there at the far side of the field?

A dog party!
A big dog party!

Big dogs, little dogs...

Running dogs...

Rude dogs...

Lassie dogs...

Firehouse dogs...

Shiloh dogs...

Good Dog Carl dogs...

...are all at a dog party!
What a dog party!

Hello again.
And now do you like us?

I do.
What a treat.
I like this.
I like this fun dog party!

And so did her owners. Remarkably, she stuck close to us and came when we called her. Something that has never, ever happened before.

Too bad Dumpling didn't do the same.

Who Can Know the Mind of a 12 Year Old?

This afternoon, I gave Fifi the "heads-up" that our pastor had been speaking to me about how much he appreciates the violin, and thinks that it makes such a worshipful sound, to which I assured him that with our new teacher, Fifi would be ready to play the offeratory or even the Lord's Table this year. Fifi dreamily wondered aloud, "Maybe I could play on the Sunday before April 15th, which is actually on a Tuesday this year..."

Husband and I asked, "Why...why...what does that matter?"

But before we could finish our thought, she replied, "...I'd like to play Nearer My God To Thee."

Now, who knows Fifi well enough at this point to get where she was going with that?

Two hints:

(1) It made us laugh so hard!

(2) We thought about bringing a few buckets of water to church that day--for effect.

A Strange Christmas Season

I just can't seem to find my traction in this wonderful season of celebration.

A few weeks ago, right after we trimmed the tree, we went on vacation--a nine day vacation.

Nine days, four trips across time zones, two airline flights, 15 hours in a rented car, 4 nights on inflatable mattresses--3 times tearing 'em down, 2 times setting 'em up--unfamiliar food in restaurants, late nights, and...family dynamics.

All in all--exhausting.

But we did it for the girls. And we did it for the 5th commandment. And we did it so that someday, later, I will not need to worry and wonder, "What if..."

See, my parents aren't just unbelievers--they are unbelievers with believers' baggage. And they've given voice to their mindset that we've been relegated to the distinction of, "relative," as opposed to "family."

But I don't mean to paint the trip unpleasant, because it certainly wasn't. There were some really nice moments like when Dumpling found time to run around the backyard with Grandpa and a kickball...

And like finding out that the Titanic artifacts were on exhibit in Phoenix while we were there visiting the grandparents! Grandpa is very generous with his resources, and paid all our way into the museum. And he was so supportive of Fifi's interest that he bought her a book of Titanic facts in the museum gift shop. The best part though, was that he was there with us.

We were refreshed in our travels by the sweet, slow pace of togetherness offered at my mother-in-law's house in a suburb adjacent to beautiful Santa Barbara...

And it always made me smile to visit these three happy playmates on Mama Lee's back porch...

Here's their kind uncle trying in vain to extract a confession of Santa Claus from my girls as he gifts them some spending money. A little awkward, but we stood back and let it play itself out and everyone survived okay.

And then there was..well...every moment at Disneyland. Here we are arriving on Main Street.

Here, Cuddlebug is trying her best to run off the tracks at Autopia, and laughing mercilessly at my motion sickness.

Such concern. I'm moved.

I don't ride in the same teacup as the rest of them anymore. They like it fast and furious. And me? I like to metabolize my lunch.

Last time, Cuddlebug slept right through every trip to the Gibson Girl Ice Cream Parlor...

Dumpling was in. her. element. at the Princess Coronation Fair...

Hey, there's no yawning at Disneyland!

We found a new favorite in the Toon Town rollercoaster...

And found decorative inspiration in Minnie's house...

We shopped...

We waited...

We watched...

We had fun. A lot of fun.

And then we had to leave the "happiest place on earth." But that's o.k., because we were headed back to Phoenix for a few more nights with the grandparents and the aunt that the young ones hardly know.

And there was hurt.

Because it hurts to see your parents getting older. And it hurts to be burdened with unwanted secrets.

And even though there was a lovely and successful effort to keep us comfortable and well fed, it hurts to be a sinner in a place where there is no grace to give.

It hurts to see others squander your precious time with their chores and personal strife, and it hurts more to find they've left...without so much as a goodbye to anyone.

But we tried. We tried to leave a place better than we found it.

And we tried to be a beacon of Jesus' love.

And now we're home, and there is certainly no place like it! But we're finding re-entry into our real life elusive. There has been no baking. Or caroling. We're scrambling to get gifts under the tree. We're struggling to get out of bed before noon, and to find our time in the Bible like we need to.

But there's still 3 days before Christmas, isn't there? And a whole lot can happen in 3 days, can't it?