What if it doesn't work?

I love my hair in the summer time. It gets white blond streaks. It is the only time of the year that I can pretend to be a little blonde. As I have gotten older this does not occur quite as quickly as it used to, so I like to help it along a little with some lemon juice. (Joe suggested peroxide, but I'm not quite that vain yet.) Anyway, here is Ashley's take on the lemon juice and my hair.

Ashley: "Daddy, what is in the spray bottle in the refrigerator?"
Daddy: "That is mommy's lemon juice"
Ashley: "Is it to drink?"
Daddy: "No, mommy sprays it on her hair."
Ashley: "Why, Daddy?"
Daddy: "Because Mommy wants pretty blonde streaks in her hair like you have in yours"
Ashley: "Daddy, mommy hair doesn't look at all like mine"
Daddy: "Well, it takes a few days"
Ashley: "How many Daddy? Like 12?"
Daddy: "It just takes awhile?"
Ashley: "What if it doesn't work?"
Daddy: "That's a good question Ashley"

Wah Hoo! What a Ride!!

This was at the bottom of an email I got the other day. I laughed, loved it and made it my own motto.

Life should not be a journey to the grave with the intention of arriving safely in an attractive and well preserved body, but rather to skid in sideways...

chocolate in one hand, Diet Coke in the other, body thoroughly used up, totally worn out and screaming...

"Wah Hoo! What a Ride!!"

Today must have been longer then I realized

You know its been a long day when at 6pm your little boy says to you: "Mommy, do you just need some coffee?"

Me and my dog

Nathan has a new word: dog. It is his favorite word or at least we think it is. It sounds just like when he says daddy which is fine as long as daddy and our dog aren't in the backyard at the same time. Then we aren't sure if he is calling the dog or wants a hug from daddy or wants daddy to call the dog or wants a hug from the dog or--okay, let's be honest, we are never totally sure what he wants but we know its either has something to do with daddy or the dog.

The moments I live for

We have developed somewhat of a tradition at our house of going for drives. Well, to be honest, it is more of an escape for Joe and I then it is a tradition. For some reason if our kids are going crazy just being kids a drive seems to calm them down or it at least calms Joe and I down. We also seem to have some of our most insightful conversations on our car drives. Both of our girls accepted Jesus as their Saviour in the backseat of our van. Tonight was a night for a drive. It had been a long day for both Joe & I and the kids seemed to be just getting their second wind (we are convinced that they steal our energy from us to use it against us!) so right after supper with the dirty dishes still on the table we loaded the van to go look for some wildlife and hopefully slightly subdue the children. The drive to the park was fairly normal filled with intermitent screaming and laughter. Joe had finally had his fill and commanded complete silence as we entered a nearby park. After a peaceful and quiet drive through the park we stopped to look at the river and then one of those precious moments occurred. Sara piped up and asked something that I'm sure had been on her mind for awhile "If it was Adam and Eve who decided to eat the fruit, then why did we become sinners?" This led to an in depth theological discussion which we all enjoyed. Five minutes later we were counting deer in the woods and then it was back home to do the dishes and put on PJs. Those are the moments I live for each day.

It's nice to know they are being taught the basics

On the way home from church this evening John was educating us on worms. John: "Mommy, worms eat dirt and then they poop it out like this:"

That's going to leave a mark--maybe I should try for another

John had a rough morning yesterday. It started by a healthy game of wrestling with his siblings in which he and Nathan knocked their heads together. This left John with a nice shiner right under his eye. Then right after lunch he and Daddy were playing chase through the middle of our dining room. I've heard various accounts as to what exactly happened, but somehow John's forehead and the door frame came into harsh contact with each other. Daddy was feeling extremely guilty at this point and grabbed the ice to at least reduce the mark that it was going to leave. It was one of the more nastier bumps on the head that we've had in our household. John shed his tears and allowed us to comfort him. About 5 minutes later, he was laying on the couch complaining that the ice was too cold and hurt when he put it on his head when he promptly questions his father "Daddy, can we do that again and see if I get hurt again?"