the microwave door is open

We were sitting and having a very disorganized lunch when suddenly Sloanie piped up, "The microwave door is open and as a result, i must share a childhood memory."
She had the floor.
"When i was little, i left the microwave door open.
Peyton pointed it out, 'Sloanie!!  You left the microwave door open!'
'So?' i responded, 'who cares?' 
Suddenly mom POUNDED her fist on the table and theatrically paused before bellowing in a loud voice, 'I CAAARE!!!'
i was adequately shamed, so the next time Peyton left the microwave door open, i casually pointed it out, 'Hey. Peyton left the microwave door open.'
'So?' Peyton questioned, 'Who cares?'
i looked at mom, expecting a repeat performance, but this time she barely glanced up. 'Mom?' i prompted, 'Peyton left the microwave door open.'
'Meh, i don't really care.'"
At this point in her story we're all rolling around on the floor laughing because even though i have no recollection of these incidents, i'm CERTAIN that they transpired exactly as she is reenacting them.
So, from now until the end of time, every time someone says, "who cares" in our house - there *will* be a dramatic pounding of the fist followed by a bellowed, "I CAAAAAARE!!" Because we're awesome like that and i love my reputation as the world's most inconsistent mama.
Any other inconsistent mama's out there?
i blame hormones.
The End

marriage week

My friend Fawne over at Beauty in Weakness is blogging a week of marriage posts. She asked me to guest post today and so i wrote a little piece called, How to Fight With Your Husband.
You can check it out if you wanna :)
Neil has been on an epic business trip lately - so i emailed him a copy of it before i sent it to her. His response was, "I have tried several times to read it and my mind can't shut off long enough to read the whole thing. I'm sure it's really good. Make it happen."
i emailed him back, "You are the world's biggest slacker."
And then i sent him THIS picture off pinterest and asked if he had enough mental fortitude to follow it.
Then he started blocking my emails.
Just kidding - but i do miss that travelin' man... even if i am forced to fight with him on occasion...

snips and snails and puppy dog tails

My first son was a little island of manhood in an ocean of sisters.  My two younger sons are having a much different experience.  They have their big brother who they can tag team - and then each other. At two and four, they're getting big enough to find each other the best of company and more often than not, we'll find them rolling around on the floor like a couple of little puppies - red cheeked in their underwear grunting - and i'm half way caught between shrieking, "Gentle with your baby brother!!" and, "C'mon, little e!!  Get 'im, you can do it!!"
Having grown up in a family with three girls, i find them fascinating. 
And maybe it's some gross oversight on my part, but so far they don't understand that mama is off limits.  They'll tackle me from behind, take me down in the kitchen, do a cannon ball from the arm of the couch onto my lap and pummel me in the morning before i get out of bed.
So today - i was climbing up the stairs and sunshine boy leaped on me, forcing me to fall forwards.  Before you could say, "ninja baby", Ephraim had climbed on my back and Gage was laughing at the bottom of the pile. 
"Dog pile!" he shouted.  Ephraim laughed gleefully while he clutched my back... but then Gage added the words that changed everything and convinced me that maybe we would do well to set a few limits - maybe my days of wrestling with my little boys should be nearing their end.  Maybe there are aspects to joining this kingdom of boys that are not quite as charming...
"With farting!!" (Jubilantly)...
Mama out.
In other news, Cai texted me this morning: "I had another dream about my wedding last night, but I still don't know what my future husband looks like :/ hahaha."

seven quick takes - last week's edition...

i wrote these last Friday - but wasn't quite finished when we left for Elmer's funeral... & i know - i haven't blogged about Elmer's funeral... well... i have, but it's sitting in drafts all scattered & unfinished.  So, i thought i'd post these *this* Friday anyway. 

1.  We are going to Elmer's funeral... i found myself thinking just for a fraction of a second the other day, "i wonder if Elmer's gonna call..." & then just this queer ache in my chest that he's not going to call anymore.  Death is so final...

2. As the littles & i were discussing bending our plans, cancelling out of committments, when neil would fly home from Toronto etc... mollen piped up, "Yes, but that's not the REAL question... the real question is, WHAT am i gonna wear to Elmer's funeral?" 
Yes, dolly... what will you wear? ;)

3.  Heeey, my blog got voted for top 25 moms of teens blog.  See my fancy new badge?  Thanks for voting! 

4.  My girls put in a story CD (Silas Marner?) to listen to the other day & when the familiar strains from the Focus on the Family song came on, they said they almost simultaneously burst into tears since they listened to the narnia chronicles every night of their "childhoods".   Makes me smile - they see their childhoods as the distant past - and i see them blazing triumphantly through the thick of them...

5.  Best "Begs Me To Answer" question ever asked:
Neil: Arrrg (yes.  Like a pirate)  What's wrong with you guys??!!  Is everyone in this house dumb, or is it just me? 
(awkward pause with tittering giggles...)

6.  All the exams are over.  The auditions complete.  We're making plans for the next year & it feels good to know that we've tucked another year under our belts. 

7.  i love my Father.  i do.  Lately when i think about blogging - that's all i come up with.  i love Him... He held me this past year & i feel like a child who fell & scraped her knee... He crooned, and picked me up... He examined my wounds and gently cleansed them to keep them free from infection, He comforted me in my anguish and His shoulders absorbed my tears.  Now, He's set me back on my feet - and i find myself still looking towards Him with wet eyes - knowing that i am loved. 

how to give a first hair cut

He begged me for a hair cut.
i had just trimmed a teeny bit off the fringes of Sloanie's mane and watching, he suddenly he felt like he was missing out. i have been under surveillance for months now, both my teens threatening bloodshed if i cut one hair from his dandelion fluff head. So, dutifully, i held the scissors upside down and let him hear the snip snip of the scissors as they cut harmlessly through the air while he smirked with a self-satisfied smirk in the mirror. 
Finally, i declared triumphantly, "DONE!!"
"Oh Ephraim!!" Sloanie gushed, "It's just awesome - what a handsome hair-do for a haandsome boy!!"
Ephraim grinned, pleased with himself, and ran to show his 4 year old hero Gage. Sloan warned Gage with thickly laid winks over baby brother's head, "Gage, don't you love Ephraim's hair cut?"
Barely glancing up, Gage replied, "Ephraim didn't get his hair cut."
"But Gage!" Sloan insisted with even more dramatic winks, "Yes he did, and it is soooooo handsome, don't you think?"
Then sunshine boy looked kindly at his little brother, softened his sweet little expression and winked imperceptibly at Sloan. "Oh, yes. You did get a hair cut Ephraim, and it makes you look like a ninja."
And Sampson lives to see another day...

7 quick takes - dozenth edition

1. "i tried everything to get him to go to bed and nothing worked... i tried guilt, threats, snuggles, ignoring him... & nothing worked, not even when i told him he was making Jesus sad." - 13 year old girl.

2. Grandparent names are interesting.  We have a granny, gramps, gam, gamp, ancient one and gg (short for great-gramma).  The name, "Ancient One" still makes me laugh when i think about it too much.  Driving home from my girls' violin recital, they informed me that when i become a great grandparent that they are going to call me, "OP" short for "oldie-poldie".  Nice.  Needless to say, when they asked me to buy them pizza 2 minutes later, i declined. 

3.  i accompanied 8 students at the recital & i only stunk up one song.  Those songs are getting tough!!  i'm thinking a surcharge for any 7/8 time signatures is in order...  It's fun for me though to stretch this way & good for me to play music with my girlies. 

4.  It was probably the best either one of my girls has ever played at a recital... That's probably the way it should be eh?  It's exciting for me to watch them blossom as little musicians.  They audition next week for their fiddle groups & then we can all give a little cheer for the freedom of summer.  If you want a little teaser of Cai's recital piece you can watch it HERE.  Ignore me... i learned the piece the day before - & ignore the little boys creating havoc... (or don't... they're awfully cute).

5.  Neil's home for 3.5 days.  It's amazing how those days just slip through our fingers.  He always has so much work to catch up on when he is home... but it's a season & my prayer for these past 5 months of heavy traveling has been that God would help our marriage to become the beautiful reflection that it was designed to be... Love that. 

6.  Our food situation has been brutal lately - mostly because i have been so busy that a full grocery shopping trip hasn't happened in awhile, just the furtive, "Ahh!!  We're out of milk!!" "Eeep!! Need tomatoes for that!!"  "Arg - no peanut butter?"  tiny shopping trips.  That's not cutting it for a family with 7 little ones (with a couple hungry teens)... i gotta get back on that one & find some good, healthy, filling meals for when daddy's gone this time... i think a Costco run is in order :)  i love their 3 bean medley, brown rice & quinoa - nice fillers to go with whatever i make! 

7.Someone nominated me for the Top 25 Moms of Teens blog.  When i told Cai, i accidentally said, Top Teen Blog & she laughed at me cause i am one million years old. You can vote for me here - i'm currently somewhere in the top 25:

letting the neighbours in

Charter brought a friend over.  It was the bewitching "cookie hour" - y'know that time of day when everyone is hungry and roaming the kitchen getting underfoot as you're trying to get supper on the table.  The house quickly slides into a disgraceful state & the noise level climbs - babies cry, teens wanna listen to music & the middlies get hyper.  The afternoon sun hits all your back windows in the thick of this so that you can see every speck of dust on your floor and every tiny finger print on every surface is so distinct - you could almost identify the difference between a grease smudge and a honey smudge if you could get your eyes to focus in your mid-afternoon brain-fog. 
i was late getting supper into the oven & had my big girls helping me, peeling potatoes and carrots while Peyton cheerfully dj'd our afternoon, pumping Abba, Fiddler on the Roof and whatever else is in our current household top 40 through our house speakers. 
It was getting out of control... & i knew it was when i heard one girl laugh, "Ahahahaa... It's a good thing Dad's not here."  (Dad = the noise police). 
i tried to flick the music a little softer, but their feet were pounding as they danced - hair flinging over shoulders.  i glanced at Charter's friend - who comes from a family with 2 children - and wondered if i was gonna get in trouble for letting them listen to something inappropriate... (dang - why do all the songs on the radio these days have to have swears in them??)  i furrowed my brows... what must he think of our cookie hour chaos?  i imagined his mama pulling their dinner out of the oven with classical music wafting through the house... her two boys - showered & fully clothed - (Ephraim is wearing his undies & the snot is flowing down his sweet little chin...)  What a little side show we must be to the little ones from our neighbourhood who come in when i'm not ready - and see the dirty underbelly of a family of 9...
Finally - it was as if we had entered the frenzy stage... i had to literally duck in my own kitchen and grab the baby who had stumbled under the dancing hoofs of the others - someone was banging erratically on the piano - & i swear every child was shouting out every word in ecstatic glee to the chorus of "the hamster dance"... i was sure that Neil could hear us in Saskatchewan & i was going to get an irritated text about it any moment. 
The song ended, and the littles collapsed in giggling heaps - i grabbed the volume knob and gave it a hefty turn to the left. 
In that tiny moment of calm, Charter's friend - as if to assuage my worry said, "You guys think this is crazy?  You should see my house... our dog can dance." 
Is it bad that i'm relieved he wasn't impressed? 
But y'know as much as i suck at "people"... i *know* beyond a shadow of a doubt that people are important. 
i wanna be that mama that always welcomes another pair of feet under her table. 
i wanna have the house where the children want to be.
i wanna be the house where there might be chaos, but there's love... where there might be mess, but there's laughter, where there might be tears, but there's forgiveness & relationship. 
So throw wide the doors that would keep curious eyes out & the fear & shyness that would try to keep a tight reign on mama's little kingdom. 
We've got a love to share & it won't be shared if we don't ever let the neighbours in. 
**********************************88
ps - i want to clarify that this isn't my reflex.  My reflex is to tell my little ones friends to go home.  My reflex is to say, "not today... not right now... can we not have anyone over?  Ever?"  But every year, i get a little better, a little more intentional, a little softer to the ones that my Father gently brings to my door.  i'm a slow-poke, but i'm learning stretching and growing - and grateful for my Papa who is showing me how...

attention, Ken Hamilton

You don't know me... but i hear your name at least once a day.  You see, someone thinks that our number is the number that should be used to reach you... and they refuse to be thwarted by the fact that the wrong pesky people keep picking up.  Conversations go something like this;
ring ring...
"Hello?"
"Hello, Ken."
"Um, this isn't Ken," (says my 15 year old daughter), "i think you have the wrong number."
"Are you sure this isn't Ken?  Ken... Hamilton?"
"Pretty sure."
"Oh.  Alright then..."
(next day)
ring ring...
"Hello?"
"Hello, is this Ken?  Ken... Hamilton?"
"No.  Sorry.  i think you have the wrong number."
"Oh, i will call back later then."
"Um, but it's the wrong number..."
click. 
(next day)
ring ring...
"Hello.  Looking for Ken?"
"Why yes.  Is he available?"
"This isn't Ken's house.  He'll never be available here because he doesn't live here.  Phoning back to the same wrong number and expecting a different outcome is the very definition of insanity."
"I'll call back later then.  Thank you."

Ok... so i made that last one up... but seriously - it has been months of Ken Hamilton's bff trying to get ahold of him here.  Ken, if you're reading - give your buddy a call. 

I DECLARE... I DECLINE!!

So... i'm sure there are a lot of other Albertans out there who are concerned about our government's attempt to marry the Alberta Human Rights Act to our Education Act (to better understand this click HERE).  So, Neil & i were discussing our options for the election that is going to get called any day now...
i told him that in researching my options, i had read an article that outlined voting for, 'none of the above'.  Apparently in Alberta, Ontario & Manitoba - dissatisfied voters have the option of, 'declining to vote'.  This made Neil curious, so he asked how you do that... i told him you go through the whole rigamarole of getting your ballot & then you tell them that you would like to officially decline your ballot.
He said, "Um... how do you do that... Loudly?"
& we burst out laughing imagining standing in our little public square of a polling station loudly declining our ballots.  (He was probably just picturing me doing that all by myself... i more generously pictured us doing it together.)
Anyway - later that night, we were watching tv & there was an ad for The Office - & just the tiniest clip of Michael Scott standing in the middle of the room where he states loudly, "I delcare BANKRUPTSYYYYYYY!!!"
Well, we looked at each other & absolutely lost it.  We couldn't breathe we were laughing so hard. 
"That's you... that's YOOOOOOOUUUUU...!!"
So, in all honestly... i don't know what to do about voting.  It's hard.  But i'm going to study, learn and weigh my options.  i'm going to listen to my conscience that tells me that it's time to be a one issue voter, (i vote prolife). 
But for now... i declare nothing...

funkydiscombooblegum

Neil & i were walking downtown, killing time till Sloanie was done her violin gig.  A fluttering sign in the wind caught my attention & i said to Neil, "Hey, Fred Penner is coming to Calgary.  Seriously - i think that guy came to my elementary school when i was in grade 1 or 2..."
"Really?"
i'm not actually sure that it was Fred Penner, but my brain seems to think it was so, i nod grinning.
"Ya.  Haven't i ever told you about my Fred Penner incident?"
"Um, no.  You have a Fred Penner incident?"
"Yes.  He came to our school & he co-wrote a school anthem with the students... something about 'Queen Street School where the kids are cool, it's fun #1 it's Queen Street School'....  Then he gave a concert.  One of the songs was Funkydiscombooblegum & it was all about the amazing properties of this gum... i don't remember how it went.  Anyway, he said if anyone could stand up & say "funkydiscombooblegum" backwards, they could have a piece.  Well, i thought i was so freaking clever, my hand flew into the air & he called on me.  i stood up in front of the whole school.... turned around *backwards* and said (with a cocky little grin), 'funkydiscombooblegum'." 
"Did he get it?"
"No.  And i didn't get any funkydiscombooblegum.  It was a little embarrassing, he said, 'um, no - you have to say it backwards...' & i was all, 'um, i'm *standing backwards* - get it?  Saying it *backwards*??' but he had already started doing something else, so i sat down.  When i told my mom she said he probably did get it, but didn't have any gum to give me so pretended he didn't."
"Mollen would totally do that."
"Yeah... i think she would.  We're smart."
We might need to book some tickets to his concert...

i'm singing

"I SET FIIIIIIIIRE to the RAIN!!!  Watched it POOOUUUUrrr!!"
"No.  No.  Stop this.  Stop this now.  This must end.  Off, turn it off..."
"But mom, i'm singing Adele..."
"No.  You're not."
The end.

The Hardy Boys

Charter has embarked on a new fantastical journey.  He finally found a series of books that are more engrossing than Captain Underpants.  He has been flying through our small store of them as our girls have mostly left them untouched. 
The other night, a full hour after his bedtime & at least a half hour after i thought he was asleep, he came streaking into my room like a flustered, rumpled ball of pyjamas. 
"Mom, there's a bad word in my Hardy Boys book."
"No there's not." Neil laughed from behind me. 
"Yes.  There is." 
My son is the worlds biggest rule follower.  Sometimes i wonder if a son could be less like his father.  The brow of his fair skinned face is furrowed and disapproving, Neil's olive coloured brow framed with thick dark hair is open and teasing. 
"What is it?" i ask, and the furrow deepens in his brow & he pushes his lips into a thin line.  He doesn't want to tell me. 
"It starts with a D..." he hesitates. 
"Is it 'darn'?" i ask...
"No."  He looks mad & i can tell Neil's laughter is making him uncomfortable.  i pinch Neil as he begins to voice his own suggestions.  He's not helping. 
"Mom, think: Moby..." he gives me a hint.  "And, no, it wasn't the guy's name either.  They called the detective that name."
"Charter, a dick is just another name for a detective... It's not a bad word, just a word that doesn't get used all that much anymore."
"Oh..." he uncrosses his arms and i can't help myself, i'm laughing too... & pretty soon, the corners of  his sweet, justice loving pink mouth turn up in a grin too.  i love how even in his seriousness, he can still laugh at himself. 
"i guess i'll go to bed now..."
"Ya, no more Hardy Boys till tomorrow, k?"
"m'k." he agrees thumping down the stairs three at a time. 
& how will he find his way, this son of mine who sees the world all in black and white? The wonder of motherhood, the unexpected humour and twists that each tiny one brings to this place leaves me breathless. 

morning devotions

Sloan, reading from Isaiah 2:23, "Stop trusting in man, who has but breath in his nostrils..."

She is interrupted by a shocked roar from my nine year old, "SERIOUSLY?  The bible said he had BUTT breath in his nostrils?"

Ya, we've got it all together over here...

giving birth

"Ah!!  Oh MY!!! OOhhhh, OhHH DEARRRR!!"  i hear the loud falsetto voice as my seven year old climbs the stairs.  It increases in volume and intensity as she gets nearer to me and finally she bursts into the room where Gagey and i are snuggling and throws herself on my bed.  She has something under her shirt and her arm is flung across her forehead. 
"I'M GIVING BIRRRRRTH!!!" She trills, her voice rising to unearthly pitches. 
"Go give birth in your room." i say flatly. 
"Dad's not gonna be impressed." Cai adds. 
"OOHHHhhhhh!!!!  HERE comes my BABYYYYYY!!!" She sings, ignoring our discouraging comments, thoroughly engaged in her performance.  She pulls up her shirt and pops out a little plastic container with several toys inside. 
"Oh, thank goodness my baby was born in a bucket so there's no slobber all over it."  she chirps, jumping up & wandering off. 
Yes.  Thank goodness for that.

silent night

We're well into the New Year, but that Christmas carol won't leave me alone. 
We have an extra little person in our home, making a grande total of 8 children to cook lunch for.  i've got a steaming pot of potato soup on & Cai has a double batch of biscuits in the oven.  It's the "lunch rush". 

Mollen is seated at the piano playing and singing Silent Night.  It's nothing like any version of Silent Night you've ever heard.  If you're familiar with the musical term, "boom chucka," well, that's the genre she's playing in.  The tempo is allegro... or maybe more like 'break-neck', the volume FORTISSIMO, and have i mentioned that i birthed a soprano?  Yeah, that girl's got some range & she's throwing in the vibrato like it's going out of style.  Gagey has stolen a toy from Ephraim & Ephraim is squealing loudly for it to be given back.  Our extra girl is playing a nice little descant on the upper half of the piano while i'm firing commands to get the table set, the biscuits out of the oven, cups filled with water and toys picked up off the floor...

Suddenly Cai locks eyes with me and states, "There's never really a quiet moment around here, is there?" & then she bursts into song, playing the 'air' piano and mimicking her sister.

i stop what i'm doing... oven mitt on my hand, completely absorbed in *this moment*...
Cai's eyes are dancing - and i'm overcome. 

i burst out laughing and she does too... tears come to our eyes and we collapse on the floor- in the middle of the complete and utter mayhem that surrounds us.   

Oh, God.  Was this the kind of chaos that you were born into?  A stable full of noisy animals in a city that was so overcrowded that there was no room for your family in the inn?  Was there the drone of milling crowds, the shriek of children, the cacophony of music in the distance?  Could you hear the shouts of terrified shepherds as a sky full of angels sang lustily in the night air?  Was *this* the "silent night" that welcomed you? 

"Soup's on..." i call... over the din.  The piano mercifully stops, and little ones are plopped into seats as we gather 'round our crowded table.

Come, Lord Jesus... silent night or not, we want You.

How to start a riot

Riots aren't that hard to start. 
Neil can start one with a prayer. 
"Dear Lord, thank you for this food, for a safe trip and for some of my kids.  Amen."

***************************************************

If you are sick of my morose, boring blog, it's not my fault.  My 15 year old daughter has made, "calling" blog posts pretty much an olympic sport & she beats me to it everytime something funny happens in our house. 
Her blog rocks. 
You can read it HERE. 

Hark!

"Hey mom?"
"Ya?" Without looking up as i wash up the dishes. 
"Kayla & i were working on actions for some Christmas songs for the kids program at church..."
"umhmmm?"
"Well... What do you think would be good actions for, 'offspring of the virgin's womb?'
i collapse on the floor in hysterical laughter.

charades

We were playing a rousing game of charades... 
Mostly because i suggested it when i was too tired to oust my body from the couch to go downstairs and play hide and go seek in the dark. 
Neil's cousins were visiting, and the littles were each trying to out do the last with their acting. 
Peyton stood up. 
She delicately held up 2 fingers. 
"Two words!" we shouted.
She held up one finger.
"First word!" we continued. 
Charter was visibly impressed with this charade short cut that he had not used before. 
"Two words, first word, second word... i like that!  That sure makes it easy to know how many words long it is!" He muttered, absently bouncing in his seat as that little marble rolled around in his brain. 
Peyton finished her turn in seconds and returned to her seat.  Charter was up next.  He wracked his brain for a few seconds and then leapt from his seat. 
Beaming, obviously pleased with himself, he just had one question, "Hey Kari, how many words is chainsaw?"

treasuring in my heart

i love these people... & i'm so grateful to God for making me a mama. 

Learning so much from marriage.  One of the best ways that i can serve God is by loving this man...

i love this picture because Gagey was taking it & all of a sudden he got crazy distracted, "Ephyum!!  Ephyum!!"  Little stinker was stealing his brothers raisins that i was supposed to be guarding for him. 

three things

one.
Sparkling eyed one (she's 11) must have heard the pleasure in her mama's voice when Sloanie finished reading her bible all the way through for the first time ever last week.  She came to find me and told me, all grinning and sparkly eyed - that *she* had started reading the bible and taking notes on her own too.  She showed me her note book with her tidy notes in it, then added with a smile, "i'm already finished my first book and now i'm ready to start my second book..."
"Really?" i asked, "What book did you start with?"
"Song of Solomon." she grinned wickedly, "i wanted to know what all the fuss is about."
i love her. 

two.
i was driving my girls home from violin and i gave them a pop quiz.  "What is the ONLY thing i accomplished while you girls were at lessons?" (an hour and a half).  The answers came like popcorn...
"cleaning?"
"blogging?"
"laundry?"
"snuggling ephraim?"
"oooohhh!  i know i know!"  Sloanie shouted from the backseat, "You started a TWITTER account!" 
um.  no.  but i love her too. 
ps. the answer was LA with Charter & Peyton... :) 

three.
i can't remember.  And it was the funniest thing out of the three too, but that's my life now... i only have 2/3 retention.  That's what you get when you're a mama of 7.