Let Sleeping Beauties Lie

Last night I awoke around 4 am to find Hannah cuddled up next to me. I hate to wake her because she is so snuggly and warm, but we have a strict "no kids in our bed until sunrise" rule. Trying to pick her up is like trying to pick up jello. No matter how you do it, most of her slips back onto the bed and you come up with only an arm or a leg. As she slowly woke up, she began to fight me, kicking and hitting and giving me "the look" (which could scare the stripes off a zebra, by the way.) After a few minutes struggle, she finally succumbed and went into my arms, but not without one final desperate attempt to be left alone in our bed. In a scratchy little voice, tinged with bitterness and accusation, she said "I'm NOT having a good dream!"

Sing Along Everyone!

Enjoy. Kids are a kick, huh?

Prayers

Bedtime prayers tonight--as best I could get it all down immediately after tucking them in.

Hannah first--abridged version (meaning that while the following is pretty much word for word, many of the following statements were originally repeated numerous times in an effort to defer bedtime a bit more--I have removed at least ten minutes worth of repetetion):

• "Thank you Lord," [pronounced throughout as low-ud] "for these curtains with the flowers.
• Thank you Lord for Claire who loves me!
• Thank you Lord for my beautiful Mama and for her beautiful outfit [sweat-shorts, t-shirt and frizzy ponytail].
• Thank you Lord for these marks on my wall.
• Thank you Lord for these hands and these bones that I love.
• Thank you Lord for Kujo [her big sister's Chihuahua] that when he bites me or drops his bones on my foot, that Sissy just spanks him.
• Thank you Lord for my beautiful feet and toenails and for my beautiful eyes and eyebrows.
• Thank you Lord for these pillows and this mess.
• Thank you Lord for Daddy's tools.
• Thank you Lord for everything in this room.
• Thank you Lord for these marks on the wall--again. . .whatever they are.
• Thank you Lord for everything you made. . .people. . .and friends. . . . . . . and more people. . .and friends.
• And that's it.
• Thank you Lord for a wonderful God. . .for our hearts.
• Thank you Lord for me. . .and you. Amen!"

The moment she said Amen, she looked at me suddenly and said, "Hey! God can't have ears!"

Grace next:

First breath--"Thank you for Jesus, that He loves us and He's so good to us and He died on the cross for our sins. You love us and give us hearts and make us little again and I know you love us and I know that I love you and you will come and get us some day soon and He's awesome and He's great!"

Breathe again--"Thank you Lord that you love us so much and He'll come back again for us some day and I'll be with Jesus and He'll be with me and see me in heaven with Grandpa and all the people, and help us that we sleep good and wake up happy. . . . Amen."

Huge smile, curls up, sucks her thumb and snuggles in for sleep.


Mama last:

Thank you Lord for my precious girls. For stinky blankies, dirty faces and misshapen thumbs. For what you are doing in their little hearts and the thankfulness that you are working into them. Watch over them as they sleep and keep them in your care. Protect them from all harm and keep them on your path as you prepare them for your purpose for their lives. In Jesus' name, Amen.

Amen. Amen. Amen

Rain Dance!

A rare and precious treat--thunder and lightening and rain, rain, rain!

Summer Vacation

Hannah likes to play games with her Daddy about giving him hugs and kisses. The more he begs, the more she plays hard to get. Tonight before bedtime, he asked plaintively "Where's my hugs and kisses?"

She looked at him condescendingly and said, "Daddy, I told you already that all my hugs and all my kisses went away because it's summer. They're gone now."

And I thought I was the creative mind in the family!

A Girl Can't be Too Prepared!

Grace went on a hike with her dad the other day—just the two of them. On arriving home, she excitedly told me that she was "gonna be born again." Daddy quickly interjected that they had talked about Jesus and salvation on their hike. And Grace "prayed the sinner’s prayer" with him. He explained to her what it meant to be born again—that Jesus makes you new and that you start over spiritually—like a baby again. She thought this was neat, but soon moved on to other topics and didn’t bring it up again until today.

As I was going through some old clothes to give away, she discovered an outfit that she wore a couple of years ago. Being a lover of all things pink and girly, she immediately snapped it up and tried to squeeze it over her head. Much to her dismay it was too small, and I told her that she wore it when she was a baby, but that it doesn’t fit her anymore.

She thought about this for about three seconds before she quickly rolled the outfit up into a tight ball, and shoved it firmly into my hands. "Keep this for me Mama! I want you to save it for me ‘cuz when Jesus comes back to get us and I’m a baby again, I want to wear this!"

(Would that be the ten foolish virgins or the ten wise ones? :)

Who else but my Grace would plan her wardrobe for Jesus' return?

I Rest My Case

My Hannah just might be a lawyer one day. Here's my evidence.

The other day she and Grace had a little conflict. It bore investigating, so I questioned Hannah first. She listed Grace's various sins in the matter, and I made some mental notes between the lines. She seemed to be finished with her side of the story, so I began to ask Grace for hers. But before I could get my first question out, Hannah interrupted--

"Wait! I have one more detail I need to tell you." She did, and then closed her case by saying, "Ok. That's all the details. You can talk to Grace now."

Now maybe this just flew over your head, and you're saying, "I don't get this one." Let me just say, in a world where the daily vocabulary is anchored by words like "poop," "jammies," and "Whaaaaaaaah," a three year-old framing up her closing argument with a word like "details" and permission to question the next witness kind of gets your attention.

All the evidence points to lawyer, but you decide. I rest my case.