Sunday, May 17, 2009

Sunday Evening Offertory

Miss Bookworm played the violin for the Sunday evening offertory tonight with CrazyMom accompanying on the piano.

Sunday, May 10, 2009

Mother's Day

Notice CrazyMom curled up in a comfy chair with a book in one hand and a coffee mug in the other. This is what Mother's Day is all about. Unfortunately, it only lasted for about five minutes. After church, lunch, an adult soccer game and an appropriate extended recovery time for CrazyMom and I after the game, there just was not much time to sit around reading. But a few moments is better than none at all. . .

After CrazyMom's five minutes were up, we interrupted her and had our traditional gift giving event. Here are some photos (with commentary, of course).

Buddy handmade a special notepad with appropriate pages (like "To Do" and "Grocery List") as well as other craft items.

Here CrazyMom is laughing over the fill-in-the-blank answers that Little Foot put in his card. You can read them for yourself below.

Now those are interesting responses. I should clarify that when I asked Little Foot about what he meant by "Mom doesn't have something on" he said, "You know, when she does not have stuff on" as he pointed to his face. Turns out that he does not like the makeup look. Also I should clarify the "be in private with her husband" refers to when CrazyMom and I retreat to my office and kick everybody out. It is the only way we can talk to each other during the day.

K.D. with his homemade card.

F.G. with her homemade card.

Ed presenting one of her annual Mother's Day gifts which is . . .

a picture block with a photo of her giving the picture block to mom last year in which there is a picture of her giving mom the photo block the year before.

Big girl Anna with her hand drawn card.

Miss Bookworm with an original Mother's Day poem on a card.

CrazyMom feigning a pleasantly surprised look with the book I got her from her "Books I Want" list. (Mary over at Owlhaven wrote the book A Sane Woman's Guide to Raising a Large Family).

Us together.

But He was Brown

Anna is a particularly social child who loves everybody, especially older boys and men. Often when another dad shows up at our house, she acts like she has seen him before in Ethiopia. We have worked with her on this trying to get her to understand how unlikely her statement is.

Well, last night we had a family over for dinner. When we gathered the troops for dinner, Anna went up to the other dad and said, "I used to know someone just like you in Ethiopia . . . but he was brown."