Sep 28, 2009

No bottoms. No heads.

Jon reports that today as he was exiting onto the main road to take the kids to school that a pig was in the process of being slaughtered.  There they were, stuck,  waiting for traffic to pass so that they could turn onto the road.  Motionless they witnessed a process that in the states would not occur in such plain view right there at an intersection of sorts.  But here in the Dominican, the preparation of food from start to finish is just a regular part of life that is not concealed by doors with hanging plastic.  And this particular event led to a lengthy discussion among a 6, 5, and 3 year old about what animals and what animal parts are acceptable for consumption.  It went something like this:

Allie:  Daddy, why is the pig bleeding and still standing up?
Jon:  They are fixing to kill it so that they can eat it.
Allie:  Oh, but no one eats horses.
Jon thinking to himself:  They do here!
Gracie:  And no one eats birds.
Jon:  Chickens are birds.
Allie:  Oh ya.  But NOT cute little birds.
Tate:  jingle bells jingle beeells jingle all the way oh what
Gracie:  But NOT their heads.
Allie:  And not their feet.
Jon:  Allie, I have a picture of you eating a chicken foot.  Remember, you liked it?  
Gracie:  But not their legs!
Jon:  What do you think "chicken on the bone" is?
Allie:  Okay, but NOT their heads!
Jon (snickering):  That's right.  No heads.  No bottoms.

Sep 23, 2009


There is nothing like being greeted by someone that has been awaiting your presence.  This morning I could hear Annabelle in her room chattering and playing in her bed.  Once her chattering turned to disgruntled cries, I opened her door to find her standing up in her bed.  Like a monkey in a cage, she was holding onto the bars of her crib and shaking her bed back and forth. She greeted me with a big, drooling grin and dropped to her mattress and crawled to the side where I was standing to get her out.  When I reached for her, she reached for me and when I scooped her up she clapped wildly and said "yeaaaaaahhhhh!"  

Sometimes I feel far from God.  Not because He has gone away, but because I have become consumed, eaten up, by everything else.  I suspect that each time I return to Him, that He has been awaiting me and after a separation of any kind, that when I reach for Him, He claps and says "Yeahhhhh!"  

Sep 21, 2009

If I could bottle baby laughter and sell it, I would be RICH!

Yesterday I was having a bad time.  Not really sure why except that I had a lot of stuff swirling in my mind that I had not processed, and when I sat down at church and the worship started, tears rolled down my cheeks in a steady stream.  I didn't even get up to go to the bathroom to try and conceal them, realizing that they were descending without my permission and that no amount of toilet paper pressed to my eyeball was going to stop them.  My poor husband held my hand silently.  A sweet friend touched my shoulder and asked if I was okay, and through a veil of wetness I helplessly smiled with quivering lips.  The music stopped.  More tears.  Sermon.  Tears still flowing (no offense, Glenn!  It was not anything you said in your sermon), and then finally a break in the stream . . . . . . . Despite the fact that I had finished with my impromptu crying session, I still felt as if a heavy, wet blanket was on me and making my joy moldy and spoiled.  I was walking around with it.  It was heavy.

Then after church we were sitting at the table eating lunch.  Jon had to run down to school to take care of a situation.  Tate, Gracie, Allie and Annabelle and I were eating our lunches silently.  And then, breaking the silence was THE BEST SOUND I HAVE HEARD IN A WHILE!  Allie and I burst into uncontrollable laughter.  Annabelle was throwing macaroni on the innocent kitten lurking under her high chair and she was CRACKING HERSELF UP like I have never heard.  She was in hysterics.  AND, we were in hysterics.  And like that, the heavy wet blanket of burdens was lifted.  Well, hello there JOY!  

Thank you, Lord, for all that you have blessed me with, and for even the little things like the hysterical laughter of a 1 year old sweet pea, that remind me of your truths.  

Sep 19, 2009

INTRODUCING Cosita (Little Thing!) Adios Mice!

Stalking the baby hamsters.  Good work!
Cutie pa-toot-ies!
We named this cat Cosa, which means "thing" in spanish, because we could not figure out whether it was a boy or a girl.  Duh, your thinking.  But it is really hard to tell with young kittens, and this one was barely weened when we got her.  After careful research, we think that it is a safe bet that it is a girl, to which the kids say " Yeah!  Kittens!"  Oh brother.