Diaper Woes fixed

Picture taken when Charis was about 21 months old. and I was 13 months pregnant with Selah. In Texas. in the summer. in 100 degree temperatures. Good times.

Tis the season to be jolly sickly. Fa la la la la la la lala laaaaaa


I was going to try and change all of the songs lyrics to fit the current state of my household. but have since changed my mind. due to lack of sleep. and therefore, the inability to do more than speak Preschool.

You know, the language that revolves around the words No-No and Poopy. And so it's from that platform, that I write today:

"Just say No to Poopy Pain."

Try not to be overly impressed by the obvious level of my higher intelligence. Envy is a bad bad thing. *wink*


My house has been battling sickness for weekS. and we haven't been to church in a MONTH.  I know, I know. Alert the Board of Elders.

Instead we've been making our rounds of the "punies". Compliments of virus that keeps mutating just enough to bypass our newly formed immunity. Graciously giving us, yet again, another bout of the Nasties.

Well, this week Raegan has diarrhea.  I know. More information that you wanted to know. Trust me, I feel the same way. But I figured if my little one is experiencing this, chances are someone else's kiddos are battling with it as well.  And so I share my bit of wisdom. (since there's so little of it these days, I get all excited when I feel I got me a chunk of usable knowledge)

When my girls (the ones in diapers) have diarrhea, their little bottoms gets raw. Red raw. to the point of bloody blisters... Until, that is, I learned two little tricks:

1. Give them a bath loaded with baking soda. It helps to balance out the Ph factor. (since diarrhea is really acidic).

but take it from me....DO NOT, I repeat, DO NOT put baking soda directly on their dry skin. like I cluelessly did around the time the above picture was taken.   I, in all my newly acquired maternal intelligence, figured that if a little Baking Soda in a bathtub was good, then a LOT of baking soda dumped into a diaper was even better.

Not so much.  She screamed and screamed. and screamed some more. Apparently the water helps "dilute" the healing process.  And so into the bathtub Charis went. She was sobbing. I was sobbing. It was a mess of snot and tears from emotional women. Thank God Jet comes with the ability to bring peace to most any situation.

Soooo Only use baking soda in. a. bath. (though I have to admit, I try and put a few handfuls directly on the skin while they're IN the water playing.)


2. USE Liquid Maalox.

It takes the sting out of the acidic poop. since that's what eating away at their skin as it sits in the diaper.

On top of that, apply some sort of moisture barrier. Like Aquafor. Or some diaper rash meds. or even Vaseline. It helps keep the skin safe, sealing in the Maalox. giving the raw skin a fighting chance.

And there you have it. The only piece of wisdom I currently own.

I totally realize that 90% of you may have known this since kindergarten. but I'm totally okay with it.
I will not be jealous of your superior mothering skills. I will not. I will not.

You know, going back to the whole envy thing being bad and all. ;)

Before and After

Take Note. There are only TWO people in these pictures. Count them. One. Two.

Ahhh... And at the beach no less. There's no need for swimmy diapers. 50 proof, purple SPF. Sippy cups. Or plastic shovels.  Nope. Just two in love sweethearts, glaring into the hot sun.

And here...eating dinner. We have no plastic, unbreakable plates. No bibs. No baby wipes. Just two people, able to eat in peace. Without wiping mouths, noses, or rear-ends.

Before babies came into the picture, intimacy with your spouse was leisurely. Dates were plentiful. Pictures of the two of you were strewn throughout your spotless home. Conversations could go for 2 hours without ever breaking eye-contact.  If you had a thought, you could express it and know that it would be heard, talked through, and brought to closure.

After babies, all of those things become somewhat of a memory. Though, for the sake of habit, you do try to regain footing of once familiar ground:

You greet your spouse at the door. But conversation with said spouse includes quick bursts of needed information over the yells of knee-high competitors each vying for daddy's attention.

And the eye contact? Gone. For you must keep a constant eye on Little People at all times. As competition for attention sometimes turns dangerous. And you need to know who is telling the truth about who poked out whose eye first.

You no longer have leisure. You have jury duty. 24 hours a day.

Pictures of the younger you and your betrothed are now replaced with pictures of the kids. Kids in bath. Kids with dog. Kids with food on their faces. Kids with one sole parent.   ...Because the other parent is needed to take the picture.

So, you not only have lost your cherished picture wall... you now have become permanent Photographer-in-Training.  Sole purpose in life: to document all the wonderful things that your children do. All while in the same room as you. just without you.

Thank you, God, for Photoshop. Later on in life, I will come to depend on this little method of cut-and-paste-Mommy to let my children know that they did, indeed, have a mother during their growing up years.

And spotless home?  Well...I'll just suffice it to say that I'm yet to clean up the spit up from last week. There it sits on the rug. hardened. molded into the floral design. Most likely for the rest of All Time.  I'm doing good to make sure that the spit up running down my arm is cleaned up. Though the spit up on my shirt...well, that's negotiable. As long as I know no one is coming to visit.

Have I mentioned that being sexy at all times becomes a far less attainable goal? Uh yeah. I look at pictures of my younger self and think "Dang. Who is that girl?!"

Dates become almost non-existent because the price of childcare is equivalent to dinner out. Not to mention your energy level. *poof* Gone.

You now resort to take-out and a rental movie after the kids are in bed. All the while keeping an eye on the staircase for roaming escapees. Again, nixing the whole uninterrupted-eye-contact thing.

Remember those deep thoughts you once had the time to share? Oh, well there's time. Once you're in bed. But no matter. You've forgotten them somewhere between reading Dr. Seuss, kissing boo-boos, and refereeing sibling rivalries.

And intimacy with your spouse (if said spouse can remain awake)? It takes on the form of avoiding the "enemy." And in my house the enemy is under 4 feet tall and fully equipped with bat-like radar. tuned in to when Mom and Dad's faces touch.

You kiss and suddenly out of nowhere comes a cry from the dark.

Someone needs water. Or the potty. Or the reassurance that they will, in fact, remain the youngest child for for-e-ver and you will not do anything remotely close to creating another one.

Yep. When children come along, you do sacrifice. Any parent will tell you as much. Your relationship with your beloved does change...sometimes in ways that challenge the very core of what brought you together in the first place. AND that requires a huge amount of humor on your part.

But man! to watch Jet interact with our daughters... to have their pudgy little arms engulf you in a tight, albeit it sticky, bear hug... It. Is. Priceless. And I wouldn't change my life for the world.

Yeah, Jury's in...and I think I'll keep them. But. I may loan them out every now and then. Any takers?

Eh, didn't think so. Today being Valentines Day and all...you're probably trying to dole your kids out for the evening too. Right? :)

Happy Valentines Day!! Go snuggle up with the one you love. Just make sure to keep one eye on the stairs tonight.

With as much candy as we all know the Littles will be having, I doubt an early bedtime is going to happen.

HUGS to you.

Project Laundry Room

This May we will have owned our current house for five (or is it four?) years.

But we didn't move in until July. being that we spent every waking hour of those two months readying the house to become a home.

one not filled with the nauseating scent of cat pee...the overwhelming look of furnace breath (black smoke had covered everything)...and the overall feel of Gross.

very technical term in the world of interior design: "gross"

Now don't get me wrong. I'm not complaining. Now anyway. :) because I know this is the reason this house was on the market for 6 months without a buyer. And the reason why we got the amazing price we did.

But still...it was a huge task. One that we're still in process of overcoming.


But this room was, by far, the absolute worst.

Now I realize that these pictures don't, by anyyyyy stretch of the imagination, do justice to the grimy, nasty nature of this room. So I'll just say two words to try and wrap up the overall condition...

Cat. Poop.

Yup. In the windowsill. A big ol' pile.

Apparently one of their TWELVE cats had a thing against the litter box. Of course, I would too if I had to share a bathroom with eleven others.

Then again, the two large dogs or small caged hor'dourves birds might have had something to do with its obvious distracted nature as it let loose on the windowsill. right above the washing machine.

But eh, that's only speculation... I'm sure he was an uncharacteristically obedient cat. The fact that there was also cat poop in the attic says little about his agreeable nature.

Jet so hates me telling that little tidbit of info. But I figure...I didn't poop in the window. So why the fuss? ;)

See that little hole in the wall? Filled with more cat grime...hair, dirt, cat food. Generally just a nasty mess.

So we covered the hole section with beadboard. Scrubbed and painted the walls and shelves. and voila! A whole new room...after literally a non-stop two weeks of work.

Yes, I realize it's a bad picture. it looked fine in the camera screen. Only after I downloaded it, could I see the picture quality actually stinks.

This was the first room we finished in our house. When we'd get discouraged by the daunting task of our fixer upper we'd just go stand in that tiny space and dream of the day that the rest of the house was as clean...and freshly painted.

Only I've NEVER liked it. Sure, I made do because that's what you do when you're staring a rather large fixer-upper in the face. You learn to live with your eyes half closed.

but I always hated the fact that the room was a bathroom (sans the sink), laundry room, pantry all rolled into one itty bitty room.

One of my friends joked me that she could sit on the toilet, dry a load of clothes, AND plan dinner all at the same time. What a lovely little thought. Thanks, Kathryn. *wink*

Well last night, as I was walking past a pile of stuff my aunt just gave us, I had a rare moment of genius. And being that those moments are undeniably fleeting these days, I set straight to work.

In the pile of hand-me-downs was a rather expensive top sheet...with a gazillion thread count. And while I'm sure it would have been comfy-cozy to sleep under, I had a better idea.

Cut it.

To make a lovely little "curtain" of sorts. covering our rather filled-to-the-brim shelves. and adding a touch of ambiance all at the same time.

We had ugly curtain rods laying on the floor of our attic... along with the wall plant hanger thingy... (Have I mentioned my attic breeds Stuff?? Great place to shop.)

Add a cross-stitch I just inherited from my Nana...and a little something pretty from my mom to decorate the window...

And you have my new "everything" room. All for the low price of ...elbow grease.

Add in the fact that it was Jet's elbow... and you have one very easy room makeover.

Thomas A. Edison

Yesterday was his birthday. And today I find myself thinking about him.

"As a young boy, he was curious and outspoken. After only three months in school, the headmaster decided he was a problem child....

So his mother, a former teacher, decided to teach him at home. where she encouraged him to explore and enjoy learning.

Edison was persistent. He rarely gave up on an invention until it turned out the way he wanted it. ...Over his lifetime, he filled more than 3,400 notebooks with his scientific investigations. receiving 1,093 patents. Most of which are still in use.

Some of his inventions include improvements of the telegraph, the telephone, the stock ticker, the alkaline storage battery, the electric light, and the motion picture projector and camera. He experimented with talking motion pictures, but was unable to come up with a workable machine. His most original invention was the phonograph."

text taken from Every Day's a Holiday by Abraham Resnick

Amazing. I only hope that my children have the same outspoken curiousity that Edison possessed.

The same qualities that dubbed him, in the eyes of a school official, A Problem Child.

Six more weeks of...WINTER?

I'm truly torn.

I love the four seasons. I love how Spring has lots of rain and budding flowers. I love how Summer brings heat and trips to the beach. I so anticipate Fall when there's just a hint of chill in the air. And I love Winter...where everything is covered in white.

Only it's not.

This is what our Winter days have looked like recently...

And if a picture is worth a thousand words, I'm thinking the above picture can be adequately summed up with only one: Spring.

The girls are loving it. Because they're finally being released from their prison term of Housebound. let loose to play in these Spring-like temperatures.


"Make sure to get a picture of me coming down the slide!"

They both wanted to document this new-found freedom into the Wild Outdoors. playing on their backyard playground.

Even Lani was enjoying it. *chubby cheeks and all*

Raegan, who is battling a sinus sickness, was running around like a crazy lady. Of course, she's not so sick as to lose her ability to own the word "Coy"...as can be seen in the way she wouldn't let me take a picture of her on the swing. ;)

But I have to admit, even though I really really really want to have The Blizzard of '09, I am torn.

Because when I see the three biggest girls playing together like they're the best of friends, it warms my heart.

Not that my heart (or body for that matter) need to be warmed. as this 65+ degree Winter weather has already taken care of that.

Boxed in?

Last night was one of those moments where I could feel conflicting emotions churn within me.

Hurt. Annoyance. Frustration. Trying to tell myself that other people's issues are so much bigger than the one I was currently stewing over, so I just needed to get over it.

As I layed in bed, unsure of what the "right" emotion was, I silently prayed:

"So what am I allowed to feel, Lord?!"

He didn't skip a beat... and dropped this little tidbit of wisdom directly into my heart:


"I don't think feelings are something that you can box into 'Allowed to Feel' or 'Not Allowed to feel'. They are what they are. You just need to make sure to not allow your feelings to box YOU in."


Being a woman of passion, I feel things deeply. and this spoke volumes to me about how the Lord views that part of me.

and I felt I should share.

Chart Crazy

If there's one thing that I hate about homeschooling while having 4 children under 6yrs, it's my sense of control.

Wait. Scratch that. Didn't sound right. Allow me to reword.

It's my lack of control.

On any given day, this conversation can be heard: "We'll start home schooling after Raegan goes down for a nap in twenty minutes."

Twenty minutes comes and goes... with nary a school book in sight. Because even though Raegan did go down for a nap, Alana suddenly awakes with a thirst for the hard stuff.

Breastmilk. Straight up.

And then by the time Alana's done eating, the older girls have gotten a hankerin' for food. And studies do show that children learn better when their stomachs are full. Or so says the National Society of Something-or-another.

So I feed them. then Raegan wakes up. and then....

It's a fun little game we play everyday. How long can we postpone doing any work?

This recovering perfectionist finds it rather fun. in a self-deprecating sort of way. *wry grin*

But because my girls thrive with one-on-one, I've had to find other means to motivate them. and for my girls that means charts. Reward Sticker Charts.

When they were younger...and potty training...I'd make a sticker chart. Worked like a charm until Selah decided she wanted to go for gold and hold out for Skittles.

Who wants stickers when there's candy to be had?! Hence the missing Week 4. By then she was happily downing the sweet stuff. One. skittle. at. a. time.

And then came learning the art of manuscript. Charis had one of the below charts as well. Every time she wrote a page or two of a certain letter, out came the sticker book and pudgy little hands that couldn't wait to stick it on.

She went through each letter three times...

And if you notice the charts below the Alphabet chart...those are reading charts. created by my best friend, Jolanthe.

The concept is for every predetermined amount of reading, you get to color in a line on the chart. When all the lines are filled in, Dollar Store here we come!

I know. When I splurge, I do it big.

But the girls don't care. For they are motivated by two words. Sticker and Prize.

I came around the corner to find them squeezed together, silently reading.

My ballerinas taking a break from dancing... so the older can read to the younger. Love it.

Charts! Glorious charts!

...making this season of homeschooling with "Two Under Two" in the house so much easier. being that the older girls are motivated to work without me hovering.

But who needs Mom when there are stickers to be earned. and prizes to be had.

Decorating. On a shoestring budget.

Back in July, when my Pregnancy Nesting was at its highest, I would roam my house. moping senselessly over all the things I hated. moaning about all the perfect decor sitting on a store shelf. lonely. unable to come live with me due to lack of funding.

Silly storeclerks. How dare they not give it to me for free? The nerve.

I mentioned how my front living room was driving me crazy. how I sat around one day and just stared at the walls. wondering how on earth I could make it any different without succumbing to shopping with money I did not have.

Then the Lord told me that I needed to add some life to the room... that I was happiest when I was around color. Smart guy!

So I brought the coffee table in from another room. added stuffed animals and a basket full of toys.

but I still didn't like it.

I mean, don't get me wrong. It was better. just not...good. Especially being that I wasn't utilizing the 9ft. ceilings...and the resulting empty wall space.

Thankfully my practical side didn't allow me to splurge. because God provided...

Last month, my Nana gave me the matching loveseat to the above couch. enabling us to put the matching set in the second living room. (She had given us the couch as well...but had given the loveseat to her sister, who no longer needs it).

...moving the other couch (a yard sale buy) into the front living room. And the result?

Love.

For any of you who, like us, have no extra money to decorate with...try what we did.

Rearrange your furniture. Find a new room for it go in. Or a new corner in the same room. Put your board games on your bookshelf instead of books... so people can see you're a house that knows how to have fun.

Put a map of the world on the wall so your children can learn geography, all the while getting an extra splash of color.

Get away from the "perfect" look. You may just surprise yourself and fall in love with the cozy feel. I know I have!!

And as for the "wall art" above my couch. It's extremely pricey. and very rare art. Try not covet.

But if you should happen to ignore my warning and still find yourself wanting to know where I got such exquisite art...you, too, can find some.

Just go to Michael's. Yeah. You read that right. That pretty little square "wall art" ensemble is actually...not.

They're 12x12 scrapbook sheets.

One day I'll mount them to something to make them *pop* out. But for now, with a house decorating budget of a buck o' five, my taped up version will have to do.

But eh, who cares? I love it. and that, my friends, is all that matters.

Next on my list to fix...the other living room. Pictures of the mess-of-a-room can be seen on the above July/August link at the beginning of the blog. Hopefully the "After" pictures will be an amazing transformation.

Sound the Alarm

The girls and I have been watching Little House on the Prairie. My niece has the entire series on DVD. And we've been slowly (sometimes not-so-slowly) going through the each Season's Episodes.

"Willy go sound the alarm! Tell every man you can get to meet us at the old well."

Mr. Olson yelled this as he began to run around his storeroom gathering supplies.

Camera pans to little Willy, sprinting to the little church/school house to ring the bell. A bell's toll that would bring men from all over their county.

Farmers would drop their hoe, leaving their crops unfinished. Woodcrafters would stop building the very house whose completion will bring money to feed their family. Mr. Olson would give equipment off his own store's shelves, essentially taking whatever profit he would have made and giving it away.

All because there was a need. All because someone sounded the alarm.

They were a community. A group of stranger brought together by two things: a love for the wilderness and a spirit of adventure that brought them to unclaimed land.

Yet they allowed this commonality to bind them. to make them family.

To the extent that, when a need arose, they worked together. Even into the middle of the night. giving up food, time spent with their own family, profit, and sleep.

Simply because someone needed them.

My mind seems completely incapable of seeing something like this...of being emotionally moved by something like this...without asking myself how I would react if I were a part of their community.

...without stepping back and taking a good look at how I do react as a part of my present-day community.

Do my friends know they can count on me like this? that I would drop everything to come to their aid in the face of tragedy? Have I gone out of my way to make this clear? to show, not by words, but by actions that I willl their need as my own?

Does my church family know this? People who may not hang in the same circle I do, but who worship with me on a weekly basis. who sit beside me while we listen to pastors speak of mirroring Jesus.

But more so...do people not close to me know this? people who are only bound to me because we're neighbors. or because we go to the same library. or because I happen to the be the person nearest in proximity to them at the moment need arises.

If someone were to Sound the Alarm, making it known, on whatever level, that they were in need of help... what would my reaction be? Would I be more caught up in the fact that my work will go unfinished? that I may lose some precious sleep? that my bank account may suffer their lack.

Or would I arm myself with Christ's compassion and step out? regardless of the cost to myself?

I ask. but I'm not sure I want to answer. I know my heart's hope. but I'm not sure I want to confess my action's proof. or lack thereof.

"They will know you by your love."

Oh Jesus, may I make You known, Lord, in my every deed. in my positioning myself to serve. even when it may cost me.

Tune my ear to the Alarm...that I might be your feet. the feet that run to comfort those in need.

Motherhood...

Who knew it could turn you into a wanna-be cannibal??

Because I just want to Eat. Her. Up.

Alana @ 4 1/2 months. Always smiling. Usually laughing. Sometimes sleeping. Rarely grouchy.

Three Weeks comes to a close

Last week, my "three weeks" came to a close. And though I noticed it, life with four little ones rarely gives me time to sit and reflect.

Yet this week, I've been feeling the Lord gently turn my attentions to a few things....

When God spoke three weeks to my heart, I held it in the context of our finances. After all, that was the pressing need at the time. And while I do still believe that a breakthrough in finances is included, this past week or so I've been noticing something different.

something that I, in no way, connected to the "three weeks". Until He did.

I know no other way to explain it than saying that I have a complete and total change in my mindset concerning a few things. things that I've been trying to change for quite sometime now, but felt powerless to do anything about.

Have you ever experienced something like that? A way of thinking that has so ingrained itself into your being that you can't seem to separate yourself from it? like the way you've become accustomed to speaking to your spouse or children or boss. Or the way you eat compulsively when upset. Or...a hundred other things I can think of right now.

Regardless of how often you tell yourself that you should just clap your hands and *bam* have instant Undoing, nothing changes. at least not for long.

Am I making any sense here? Or am I the only person that has fought against mental bondage in certain arenas?

If I were speaking to a room full of women, I'd have no problem just laying it all out there. None whatsoever. But knowing that's not the case, I just can't bring myself to have a verbal vomit session about the whole of what I speak.

But I can share on one arena. Homeschooling.

Though homeschooling with JOY is one of my main goals, it has taken work for me to even come close to achieving it.

I've had to make the conscious decision to watch my facial expressions, watch my tone of voice, make sure not to just rush through the material so I can check it off my mental to-do list. meanwhile missing out on the whole point of *enjoying* my children.

And though it may sound like nothing much to you, to me this is HUGE stuff. Because that whole struggle ...well, it's like whatever opposition I've been facing in that area has instantaneously lifted. GONE. NON EXISTENT. NO LONGER an issue.

Suddenly it's been so easy for me to be truly and deeply joyful over the fact that I get to experience my girls like I do. on a daily basis. on an hourly basis. We're laughing as we work on school. Honestly enjoying the company of one another.

To me, this is monumental.

If you don't homeschool and need some sort of reference point to understand... It's sort of like a relationship that you have with someone that really gets under your skin. You don't want them to annoy you. You try and convince yourself that you will be the best of friends with them. that they way they do XYZ will no longer have any impact on you. none what.so.ever.

But man oh man, it's like they come equipped to get you flustered just looking at them. Until one day. You wake up and not only have no negative anything against them...you now actually want to be around them.

This is that kind of big for me. I've been finding myself tearing up, just looking at my girls and knowing that I get to teach them and spend time with them like I am. in this short season.

I'm experiencing this type of Instant healing in at least one other arena of thought. maybe a second...though I'm not really sure yet. I'm still feeling that one out. :)

It's like all opposition to my having victory in the battle of the mind has been supernaturally removed. I'm beyond grateful. and having trouble even finding the words to share it.

But it does make me all the more anxious to see what other victories are going to present themselves now that those "three weeks" are up. Now that the Lord is obviously setting new bounds around my mind. my finances. my life.

Informing the enemy: "Thou shall not pass!"

The Court Date

I had mentioned the impending court date a few weeks ago. The one that was demanding our remaining hospital balance in full. The whole whopping $550.00 of it.

Maybe the hospital wanted to buy a new coke machine...and, like the rest of us, needed some extra cash? *grin* Don't worry. I kid.

Yet even though it does sound like pocket change, to us it seemed like the impossible. on top of all the other bills and what-nots you have as a homeowner and parent.

Back in December, after my husband received a paycut, we started to look into the hospital's financial aid again (being a state university hospital they have their own aid to offer).

And this is where we started to get the professional run-around. In all honesty, there have been many times that I felt they were intentionally trying to stall the progress of our case until Feb.6, where we'd be forced to go to court.

Because those were our only two options: Go to court. or pay the payment in full to them before the court date.

From the four corners, we had to gather information on nearly everything we owned to prove that we might qualify for financial aid. And trust me, they were dead set on making us earn every penny that they may or may not knock off the bottom line.

Things we bought wayyyyy back when, we were suddenly needing to produce their receipts. having to prove the real worth of the asset in question. Since God knows they tripled every thing's value. Literally.

Convenient how the government will slap a hefty value on a used item that will bring you, maybe, $100 at a yardsale. But I digress...

Day after day my husband would call their financial department, making sure they got our newest fax sheets. filled with all the latest information they were suddenly needing.

He called them so often that it got to the point where all he would have to do was say "Hello. I'm calling to check on my case" and they'd say "Alright. Hold on."

He was not only known by name. He was known by voice. No kidding.

I had thought all was lost during this last wild goose chase they sent him on. Because he had to track down a receipt from Texas. on a trailer we bought 5 years ago.

Obviously we didn't have that on hand. So Jet finally tracked down the company's number. called them. and was told they didn't have that information.

*insert husband feeling very exhausted and near the end of his rope*

But thank God for the little lady who was on the other side of the phone line. She was one of those sweet Texans, who lives by the rule "Southern Hospitality has no bounds". She gave Jet the direct line of one of her friends. who just happened to work in the Dept.of Transportation.

"She'll have the information you need. Honey, you just tell her Marge told you to call."

He called. That lady said she could send him the information. but it would take a couple of weeks. I can just imagine him hearing that. After ALLLL the work he'd put into this over the last couple of months, it would all come down to a letter of information that would arrive a few days too late.

Yet Favor came to the rescue again.

She paused...and then said, "Well I think I could fax that to you.... In fact, I'll go ahead and copy the information now while I'm on the phone with you. Is that alright?"

IS IT EVER!!!

But our lovely little hospital majors in loop holes. So we weren't homefree yet.

One of the things that they said they needed was Jet's life insurance policy. the cash value. No big deal, right? Jet sent that to them. And then, following his usual practice, called them two days later to talk with them about it.

The man on the other side of the phone said it wasn't sufficient. The paper he sent them said "policy value". Not cash value.

Are you kidding me?! So off Jet ran, yet again, chasing the wind...just trying to save us whatever money he could.

Have I mentioned I'm so proud of him? Because I am. I would have given up a long time ago, frustrated by the hoops they were having us jump through. But my Jet rarely gives up.

And it paid off.

We approved for a 65% cut. Jet payed the amount with them on the phone. The girl who has talked to Jet countless times said she'd process it immediately. I bet she was inwardly cheering for us as well. :)

And...drum roll please....I now have the "Payment accepted" letter in my hand to prove the whole saga is over. finished. and stamped by the Favor of God on our lives.

Ground Hogs day

A day around here typically looks like this.
Each girl clad in something other than the "normal" school attire. This day it happened to be leotards. Other days it's ballerinas, princesses, clowns...

Maybe being incognito helps them to learn?

Well, today we talked about Ground Hogs Day. And though there wasn't much to say, I did think I nailed the "Six Weeks of More Winter" concept.

Until dinnertime.

Charis was explaining it to Daddy, when he asked her what it meant that Punxsutawney Phil saw his shadow. to which she, without skipping a beat, shouted

"Six more weeks of Christmas!"

Yeah. maybe not so "nailed" as I thought.

SuperBowl Sunday

They best things in life sometimes comes in fours...friendship shared between two groups of sisters. The little girls L-O-V-E each other. And it shows all over their faces, doesn't it?

As most of the Unites States gathered to watch grown men roughhouse over a pig-skinned ball, these little people played downstairs in the basement. watching Cars.

playing dollhouse...

and wishing that they were the one rough-housing over the pig-skinned ball.

Three cheers for Team Z and C!

Studly men in the making.