Finally, the reward for all her hard work throughout the year. Tuesday night was awards night at AWANA, and the Princess got her second book award.
(Obligatory smile for the cameras…)
Also during the year, she earned her review patch (which means the did the entire book again, plus a few extra sections in the back), and got her workbook pin (which is from doing an entirely separate, other book).
After that, she earned six – count ‘en – SIX Take It to Heart pins. She memorized and recited word-perfect John 10:1-15, Isaiah 53, I Corinthians 13 (her personal favorite), Ephesians 6:10-19, Philippians 4:1-13, and Proverbs 3:1-13. I was amazed – heck, I can’t even keep the references memorized. I have to keep on referring back to the AWANA website to keep track of them. She was the only Sparkie to do any TITHs, and so they gave her a special citation pin for her hard work. All this, and she still has one more year of Sparks to go!
Great job, Princess. I thank God every day for your big, beautiful brain.
I should have known better.
The next day, the very next day, after I posted how splendidly life was going and how good I felt, the bottom fell out. I think hitting “post” did something funky to my hormones, because I have been on the couch begging for mercy (whenever I wasn’t simply passed out cold) for the last few days.
Off the top of my head, I can think of three families in our tiny burg that have eight kids. Five is considered totally normal. And big families are all over the blogosphere. Chris has a bunch, there’s a big crew over at TD’s, the list goes on. Many people wonder how these amazing women can raise that many kiddos and stay sane. Well, I just want to know how they dealt with the dark side of pregnancy. I mean, this is only my third – I’m a relative newbie! And still I whine.
I know this, too, shall pass. Just not soon enough for my taste. (Ug. Did I just say “taste?” Blech…)
You know the scene in Indiana Jones and the Temple of Doom. Indy has been racked with pain because that prince twerp is stabbing the voodoo doll Indy with pins. At the same time, our hero is getting the stuffings beaten out of him by a real, certified ogre. In a turban. Any minute Jones is going to be smooshed by the rolly-thingy, making him into a meat pancake with a snazzy hat.
Then at the last minute the sidekick takes care of twerp boy, the voodoo doll is unpinned, and Indy sits up like a man fresh and ready to get down to the business of whooping ogre butt. I love it.
And that’s how it’s been here, too. Friday, I spent the day feeling quite a bit better. But I get days like that now and then, so I didn’t push it. Then Saturday came and eating wasn’t so bad – heck, food kind of tasted nice for a change. On Sunday, my in-laws had a barbecue, and I ate a salmon burger with no dire consequences. (I mean, fish! It has been eons since I could even think the word “fish” without turning green.) And to top it off, yesterday we traveled to town and spent the day driving all over, running errands. I had a greasy piece of Costco pizza for lunch. (I did towel off the extra grease first. But I do that normally, anyhow.) Nothing. No menacing rumbles from below. No feeling like I’d eaten cement. It felt…pretty good! And I haven’t had to sleep in the afternoon for the last few days, either.
It has been like a fever breaking. Never have I thanked God so profusely for the chance to feel normal. Kind of like hitting yourself over and over with a baseball bat: It feels so good when you stop.
Cross this with the amazingly beautiful weather we’ve been blessed with for the last few days, and I am one happy camper. I have woken up from an incredibly horrid nightmare, and can’t stop thanking God for every little pleasure I’m allowed now. I’m also thankful that He doesn’t wallop me more frequently so that I’ll get off my tukas and be appreciative more often.
Now it’s just me and Indy, fresh and ready to go, and looking for that smelly Walmart man. Where’s a whip when you need one?
Back when I was knocked out by that lovely stomach virus, all I could think about was sleeping, missing my kiddos, and trying to keep water down. It was miserable, obviously. What I didn’t know was that the critter causing all this misery was so incredibly cute!
Yes, this is the little guy that made me question life, the universe, and everything. If I had known he was so cheek-pinchingly adorable, I might have just hugged him to death. Well, perhaps not. But you have to admit, he’s pretty lovable. As long as he hasn’t invaded your innards.
But maybe you’re not happy with hugging your inner gastro-intestinal distress. Perhaps you prefer something more upscale, like Ebola? Well, alrighty then!
Or maybe you want a virus that is more practical, more “T-shirt-and-jeans.” Then it sounds like the Common Cold is the bug for you:
Now that weather is getting warmer and picnicking and BBQ season is here, perhaps it’s time for your own personal E. Coli. Mmmm! Go on, give him a big kiss!
Personally, I’m saving up for the homeschooler’s favorite, the Bookworm.
Thank you, GIANTmicrobes. Now it’s possible to have any number of ailments, no muss, no fuss. Having Syphilis was never so fun.
Just in time for Mother’s Day, here’s a calculator to figure out the dollar worth of momming. It figures in the average salary where you live, the hourly cost of all you do (if you got paid) and makes you out a check. The check and five bucks will get you a coffee at Starbucks, but it’s the thought that counts.
Mine was over $350, 000. For that, we could take a Caribbean cruise every winter for a field trip and fly in a private tutor from abroad to teach us all Spanish during the school year.
Ah, well. I comfort myself by thinking of the huge headache doing the taxes would be.
He’s not so little anymore. Sunday, the Bear turned three. He knew all along that this age is the big time, but he still insists that he’s not a big boy. “Naaaw. I’m little.” he’d tell you. I don’t suppose I’ll get that answer from him for long.
For third birthdays, we go for the Big Kid Bed, and even the Princess was able to keep the surprise under wraps.
He was totally blown away. It was so cool!
The other great thing was seeing my midwife today, so I could take a picture of them together. Here is three years ago:
And here is now: 
I spend a fair amount of time freaking out that time is going too fast, that I’m not going to be able to catch all the good moments before they pass. But then I look at that cheesy grin and I know that it just gets better. How could I love him more than I did when he was a little pink comma curled up on my chest? Well, I do. These kids get bigger, and my heart gets bigger too.
