Shakin' Things Up

I'm pretty sure God has an incredible sense of humor. I really do. I think He sits up in heaven and finds ways to shake things up down here. And, I think that's why He gave me my son Cole.

Don't get me wrong. Cole is a wonderful boy and I love him dearly. Of all my kids? He's the one that has the warmest kindest heart. He's the one that loves to cuddle. He is the one that notices when I get a haircut, or a new pair of shoes, or whatever. And he loves Jesus with all his heart. Cole is really a delight in so many ways.

But my first two kids are Rule Followers. And Pleasers.... like their mother. I am the Queen of all Rule Followers.

My third one though - Cole? Yeah, not so much.

I remember one time when Cole was about three or so...My Dad was coming for a visit. I don't see my Dad much, so I wanted this visit to go perfectly. (Yeah, I know. Not possible. Especially with three little ones.) I prepared everything I could think of so things would go as smoothly as possible. I cleaned and cooked and got everything just so. My Dad wasn't used to being around little kids much, so I went over things with my kids - what manners they needed to practice, the way they could and couldn't act, blah blah blah.

So when my Dad came for his visit, things were going pretty well. Until it was time for all of us to get in the car and go into town. That's when Cole decided to sing a little song. Awwww, sounds lovely, doesn't it? A nice little song from a nice little sweet adorable 3-year-old boy.

Yeah. Except this song was about ... butt-cracks. You heard right. Butt-cracks.

"Butt-craaaaaaaaaaacks, oh butt-craaaaaaaacksssss.
You see them everywherrrrrre, butttttt-craaaaacksssssssss"

Oh, and this was not a short song. Oh no. This song had multiple stanzas. Like 403 stanzas or something. And remember, we live in a rural area. So the ride into town provided many creatures from which Cole pulled inspiration for his new song.

"Oh yeaaaah, butt-cracks on hoooooorrrrrses, butt-cracks on coooowsssss,
Even birdsssss and goatssss have buttttt-craaaaaaaaaaacks. Yesss theeeeeey doooooooo"

Mortifying.

Luckily my dad has a sense of humor, and thought the 45-minute Butt-Crack Song was hilarious.

But, my point is this: As much as I try to teach and guide my kids? They teach and guide me. Or rather, maybe I should say, God teaches and guides me through my kids. I sincerely believe that. I'm a person that likes things just so. I like things in order. My ducks need to be in a row.

God decided to shake things up. And gave me a child that, among many other things, sings about butt cracks at inappropriate times. (Not that I can think of an appropriate time to sing about butt-cracks. But anyway.)

It's not that I don't like things in order anymore. I do, believe me. But, I've learned to roll with things a little easier now. To not sweat the small stuff as much. To take things in stride. And most importantly - to laugh.

Cole reminds me of that every single day.

And then there was the time Cole mooned his entire Kindergarten class. Yeah. But that's a post for another day.

Spring Forward & Spring Pigs

My 9-year-old daughter, Lexi detests daylight savings time. She always has - since she was about 3 and figured out that we were switching the clocks. ("Switching time - willy-nilly when it suits us" ...as she puts it.)

So now that we've "Sprung Forward", here's what I get to listen to now:

Me: "It's 8:00 kids - Bedtime!"
Lexi: "Well, if it wasn't for the brain child that invented daylight savings time, it would be 7:00 and we could stay up another hour."

Yes, she really said 'brain child.' I do NOT know where this girl gets her sarcasm. *cough cough*

Cole: "Mom? What time is it?"
Lexi: answering for me "Well, that depends on if you want to know what the clock says, or what time it REALLY is, before we switched the clocks for no good reason."

Me: "Hurry up and get in the car everyone, or we'll be late for school."
Lexi: "Well, actually, if it weren't for this ridiculous clock switching thing, we would have a whole 'nother hour to get ready for school."

Yes. Sigh.

It is going to be a loooong 7 months until October when we get to turn the clocks back to, as Lexi puts it "back to the appropriate time - the time that God intended."

In other news, the pigs are here! We are now the proud owners of 10 very cute pink little piglets:

Awwww...aren't they the cutest?!

I can almost smell the bacon sizzlin'...

Speaking of which, to celebrate the arrival of said pigs, I decided to make sausage and gravy for dinner. (I know - sorta twisted.) So Cole walks into the kitchen, sees the sausage cooking, and with a horrified look on his face, says:

"Oh noooo! We're already eating one of our pigs?"

Poor kid.

All the money we're supposedly saving raising our own animals? Will be spent on a good therapist for the kids.

We are the Knights Who Say "Ni"

There are two groups of people in this world: Those that love Monty Python movies, and those that... sadly... do not.

The Monty Python People have seen every movie at least once, think they're hilarious, and can (and DO) recite every funny line from those movies. This invariably annoys the Non-Monty Python People. Also? Monty Python People don't understand Non-Monty Python People. And although I can't say for sure, I'm pretty sure it's vice versa.

My oldest son just walked by my office on the way to the bathroom, and said to me in his best British Monty Python voice:

"Shrubberies are my trade. I am a shrubber. My name is Roger the Shrubber. I arrange, design, and sell shrubberies."

Yes, my friends, this is a proud moment for me. My son has become one of us. After seeing The Holy Grail only ONCE, he can recite all of the funny lines. (I know! Amazing!) I am looking forward to this weekend. For then, I shall introduce him to Life of Brian.

"We are now no longer the Knights Who Say 'Ni'. We are now the Knights Who Say 'Ecky-ecky-ecky-ecky-pikang-zoop-boing-goodem-zoo-owli-zhiv'."

Ah-Ha

The other day I had a 'ding ding ding' moment. (Insert lightbulb here.) Oprah calls them 'Ah-Ha' moments. You know what I mean. And, I can't stop thinking about it.

There's a benefit for which I was seriously thinking of raising money and getting involved with. But, recently someone told me that this particular benefit event supports an organization that I don't... how should I say this.... Let's just say that this organization does things that I don't agree with. (I strongly disagree with...) As my friend RLG pointed out though, they also do many wonderful things. But I can't get past the other. (And keep in mind, it's only a rumor right now. Don't worry. I'm checking it out for myself. I'm waiting for a response from these people.)

ANYway (yeah, I know I ramble) I was talking to RLG (actually we were IM'ing each other) and something she said (typed) really made me think. She said something like, "Well it's real easy to jump on the bandwagon and protest the "sinners." But are YOU doing everything you can - to actually do what Jesus asks of you?" (Yeah, I know I butchered that. I can feel RLG cringing. She said it a lot more eloquently.)

But she made me think. It IS so easy to point the finger at what I think everyone else is doing wrong. I could say, yeah they're bad. Ooooh, look at them and how bad they are. And leave it at that.

That's easy.

BUT, what about me?

I could list all the things I think I'm doing to help the poor, the less fortunate, the disenfranchised. (That was my first reaction to RLG - to be defensive. To say, hey! Look at all the things I am doing.) But a list would be pointless. Because if I look at myself, I know that I am not doing everything I can. Not even close. (Are any of us?)

So yeah. If I find out that this benefit event supports the organization I don't agree with, I can't be a part of it. (On this, I believe RLG and I disagree.) I just will not throw money at something, and support what I'm opposed to. But I CAN and WILL do more of what I'm asked to do. What Jesus tells me to do. So thank you RLG! I appreciate the reminder. :)

(Ummm, but don't get too excited. I'm not gonna run out and become a democrat or anything. So don't go getting crazy and buy me an Obama shirt or something.)

Her Majesty, The Queen

This past weekend we decided it was time to take a peek into our hive. Did you know we're beekeepers? We are! We have one small hive, with two more BIGGER hives being built as we speak. (Because, we have so much fun with one hive, according to my husband's logic, three hives would be three times as fun.)

My favorite part of beekeeping? The honey, of course! Have you ever had fresh honey right from the hive? One word: yum! Nothing better. (Ok, three words.)

Anyhoo.

As I said, it was time to check on the "girls." It's been a long winter, and since this weekend we had relatively warm weather, it was safe to open the hive and check things over. This time, my 11-year-old son, Gage donned his bee suit and helped Daddy. It's important to make sure the queen has survived the winter and the hive, in general is healthy. And yes, apparently we indeed found that things are marvelous in the hive. We didn't actually see the queen (because her workers - the other females - cluster around her in the colder months to keep her warm, thus making her hard to see) but there were signs that the queen was still around and healthy and doing her thing. The brooding chamber had a few active broods so this is all good.

As my husband was closing up the hive, Gage noticed all kinds of little dead bee bodies on the ground.

"Dad, what are these?"
"Oh, those are the male bees - the drones. In the wintertime, the worker bees (the females) expel the drones from the hive. They're not needed anymore after the breeding season is over. So, the males are killed and just tossed out the door."

(Seems perfectly reasonable to me. Gage, on the other hand, did not agree. As was apparent from the look on his face.)

Gage: "Ooooh man. That seems wrong on so many levels."

Maybe so, Gage. But wait until NEXT weekend. When you learn firsthand what it means to castrate a pig.

Heh.