The Change

No, not that change… I’m not old enough to be experiencing “personal summers”! I’m changing the blog.

Okay, I’m still pretty new to the blogosphere, and I may not have fully found my niche yet. But I know this.

I’m not here to:

• Sound off on current events
• Tell everyone how to behave
• Warn you all about the dangers of ball pits, aspartame, wealthy Nigerians who need your help moving millions of dollars from their homeland, or Formosan Subterranean Termites in your bark mulch. Snopes has definitely got the corner on that market!
• I’m especially not here to subject you to introspective, self-obsessed, navel-gazing, ramblings.

That said, here’s a little peek into my head, about why I’m moving the blog.

Homes Cooler.

(Homes Cool. Home’s cool. Homes-Cool. Homes Cooler. Home’s cooler. Homes-Cooler.)

Yes, it is. Exactly. But not unique enough. I tried at least four or five times to get a configuration that wasn’t already in use, just on blogspot alone. So, maybe that’s my ego peeping through (who knew?!) but I would like to have a name that is a bit more unique.

Also, yes – we are one year into homeschooling – but that does not sum up who we are. That is not our whole identity! Our identity is in Jesus.

The blog is really for our friends and family. If you’re not our friends and family, go ahead and have a look. :0) Leave a comment and say ‘hi’, if you’re so inclined. But if you are our family and friends, (of if you’re lost, and you’re interested), our further adventures can be found over at Herding Grasshoppers.

I’ll try to keep a link from one blog to the other in an obvious place, because if there’s a way to easily move the ‘old’ posts to the ‘new’ blog, I am not tech-savvy enough to know it.

And I’m okay with that.

For My Dad

"When someone asks you, 'What would Jesus do?', remember that a valid option is to freak out and turn over tables."
(unknown)

General Gunnar

Gunnar loves to play with Army Guys, though - having the tenderest heart of all in the family - is the least likely to ever join the military! Still he's very proud of the creative effort in setting this all up.

BTW, the boys call these set-ups their "Arranges". That particular bit of 'family language' undoubtedly came as a result of Tate's hearing loss, and not hearing the full word "arrangement". So, any assortment of things they set up is an "Arrange", in this case, an "Army Arrange".

This is a picture about my arrange. As you can see, it has lots of men and my fortress is made out of cars, boats, and one airplane. As you can see, my camp has two flags, and one palm tree. Also, you can see a few policemen. And I think that’s all about my camp. Soon, you will probably see Wyatt and Tate’s.

Tate the Tank

Tate is the driving force behind the interest in the military, battles, Army guys, etc. He is REALLY interested in the Civil War, but - frankly - the attraction is mostly the artillery. It's a boy thing.

This is my Army, which is very strong, and indeed has a Delta Force. A Delta Force is a bunch of special troops that do special missions. My Delta Force does exactly that, and I am the gray soldier with the machine gun, squatting, in the picture to the right. My men have camped in an abandoned building, but luckily they managed to bring their flag and some sand-bags, too. I have one bazooka guy, three bombarders, three grenade throwers, a bunch of rifle guys, and five machine gun guys, not counting me.

Testosterzone #2

Wyatt hasn't really hit puberty yet, but there are definitely plenty of boy hormones floating around. It doesn't help that Tate (2.5 years younger) is almost as tall and much stockier.

Wyatt obviously feels the need to assert his dominance, in typical oh-so-very-subtle boy fashion. (Yeah, check out "Shark Boy", in a previous post.)

My army arrange is better than anyone else’s and my little message here is going to be better than anyone else’s. My army arrange has tons of bazooka guys and guys with machine guns and flame throwers. And it is ORGANIZED, not like Tate’s and Gunnar’s, which are all messed up. My army arrange could probably beat them up, any time, day or night.

Flying Wyatt

And now, we bring you, the Amazing, Gravity-Defying, Wyatt! He breaks the laws of Physics, he controls the slippery soccer ball, he defends the goal, almost nothing gets by (None Shall Pass), and he (almost) never falls!

Wyatt said, "This picture looks like I'm coming in for a landing, after a flight, like I was a bird."

Germs

Gunnar asked me, "Mom, is there any empty space on your blog?" Which means, "Is there room for me?" So, here is another "Gunnar-ism".

We were out for a walk a while ago, and had this conversation:

"Mom, I saw a picture of a virus, and it was a deadly virus."

Hmm. I have no idea what he has seen or where, so I reminded him that not all viruses are deadly. Some are just annoying, like the common cold.

But Gunnar was not convinced.

"Mom, this was a germ. A very diseas-e-ly germ."

An Open Letter to Canadians

Attention Canadians who cross the border to shop in the U.S. :

Yes, we know you’ve been here, in greater numbers lately. And do you know how we know you’ve been here? Not because you’re doing a great job stimulating our economy (Wal-Mart will survive, with or without you). Nor is it the hordes of middle-aged women (and older) with Big Hair, pancake make-up, and sparkly silver and gold sandals. No.

Just a quick look at the parking lots of major stores is all it takes to know that Canadians have been here. And I don’t mean your license plates. It’s the litter.

Yes, I know, Americans litter too, but not like you.

Americans do not routinely walk into a store, buy a new pair of shoes, and abandon their old pair in the parking lot.

We do not park our RV’s at the mall, pack the cupboards with new items (even a new TV), throw all the empty packaging out the door, and drive away.

We do not drain the oil from our vehicles in your parking lots, pour in the new oil we just bought, and leave the empty plastic oil bottles wherever we dropped them.

Gotta pretend none of it is new, so you don’t have to pay duty on it, don’t you?

And you wonder why we mock you.


To my Canadian friends, thank you for NOT behaving like your ethically-challenged countrymen. Maybe you could have a talk with some of them.

G-E-N-I-U-S

Kerry is an architect. A GOOD architect. You should see the houses, banks, remodels, offices, and now even condo-developments (!) that he has designed. You should have no qualms about hiring him, if you need an architect. He really is a smart guy. Very creative.

He does have these little moments though...

I'm not saying we were arguing, but we were having a Discussion a couple nights ago, so I'll give him the benefit of the doubt that he was distracted when he headed to his office. Pretty soon the house phone rang. I saw on the caller ID that it was Kerry, on his cell phone, so I picked it up and said, "Hello". Then I heard a familiar voice say, "Hello, this is Kerry."

Yep. He's a genius. :0)

Shark Boy

Wyatt’s visit to the orthodontist was uneventful. The doc decided to give him another six months of growth before making any decisions. Wyatt knows that he is destined for braces, (his teeth are in rows, for heaven's sake!) and commented to the doc that the good thing about braces is that he is home-schooled and so he won’t have to deal with other kids teasing him. (I did NOT prompt that – he came up with that one on his own!)

After that, Wyatt apparently was more interested in the squirrel outside the window than listening to the other possibilities the orthodontist was outlining. When I gave Kerry a reprise later, and Wyatt heard me mention pulling teeth, his defenses kicked into high gear…

“What?! I might have to get teeth pulled?! Will it hurt?”

Hmmm, moral dilemma. Honesty is always the best policy, but remember that this child is a fretter, AND that “the truth, the whole truth, and nothing but the truth” are three separate categories. I’ll choose “the truth”.

“Well, honey, they make you numb.”

“With a SHOT?!?”

“Mmmm, yeah, but they numb it before the shot, so if you close your eyes you don’t really feel it.” Sort of. Maybe we can find a dentist with anesthesia.

Wyatt gave me a very suspicious look. Tate and Gunnar were eagerly waiting to see how this little drama would unfold.

Then, I had a bright idea!

“You know, the Tooth Fairy brings MONEY for teeth that were pulled!” (Previously, she has only left toys or trinkets – and pixie dust - for teeth that fall out the ordinary way.)

“Really?”

“Oh yeah.”

Tate, narrowing his eyes and calculating, said hopefully, “When will I get teeth pulled?”

“Hopefully never.”

Wyatt, alarmed that Tate might find a way to horn in on the only bright spot he can see in a bad situation, decided it was time to get tough:

“You won’t get any teeth pulled, because your teeth are all prim and proper like a prissy person. MY teeth are rough and rugged, like a MANLY MAN!”

So there.