Well, it's Something

Yes, we've suffered our first broken arm in the Molhoek house. We're not sure it happened (something involving a couch and a toybox) but if someone in this house breaks their dominant arm, it's probably best it's the 3yo who isn't too attached to his right hand. Ashton is such a trooper - he barely cried when it happened (he asked Dad to kiss his boo boo and it was Dad who noticed his arm looked like he'd grown another wrist), and he was very brave in the ER. I was so proud of him. Ashton, the same kid who bawls because it's windy, endures stitches in the nose (last year) and two broken bones in his arm and he merely whimpers.

He was a bit panicky yesterday when he thought he wasn't going to have computer access, but he was relieved to find that I could easily move the mouse to the left side of the computer. The only difficulty we've had is with clothing and bathrooms...he sort of freaks when he realizes he needs help!

But, all in all, I'm glad he's doing so well with the whole thing.

Nothing Much

I feel like I should at least get it together once a week (if not more) and post, but I couldn't think of anything very monumental to report. So I kept waiting for something BIG to happen, but it didn't (and that's good, Sally, duh), so I'm writing about how I don't have anything to write about. Am I experiencing writer's block? Or does one who writes once every five months in her blog really considered a writer?

I'm taking hubby to the airport today for a three-day business trip. I've got kid and cleaning duty while he's gone, but I'm excited to have a couple days to get this house in order after we had several rooms painted, and if it doesn't rain I'm anxious to get my clothesline up and start tackling stains so I can start preparing for my big annual garage sale. I really thought that by giving away an entire truckload of stuff last year, I wouldn't have enough to have another sale, but alas, the growing mound in my garage is telling me otherwise.

I do have a propensity for amassing large quantities of unnecessary things, a quality at least one of my sisters can't understand. Not that I can. I'm not a pack rat. Really I'm not. But I am easily bored (or is is bowad?) and I'm forever changing my mind about decor or switching things out, which means new things in, old things OUT. And I'm not wasteful, which means those old things are sold and not thrown away. That's just the way I am. Call it frivolous...

Due to my extreme busy-ness, I have been healed of my obsession for buying stuff at other garage sales. That's good, right? Now we just have to work on my problem with walking into IKEA for one thing and leaving the store with 5 bags full.

Okay, see you next week. Or if my kids do something BIG, maybe sooner.

Still Alive

No, I haven't fallen off the ends of the earth, I've only fallen into a tremendous mountain of letters and can't seem to get out to find my keyboard.

It's almost a year now since I started my little "side" business and abandoned food network and sanity, among other things, and moved in for good to my basement. I'd searched for years to find a way to make my art profitable, but I never dreamed it was this way. I also never dreamed I'd be stupid enough to finally pounce on this opportunity when I have four kids under 8 in my household. Now that the novelty of this whole business has worn off, I can honestly admit that while I can't quite stop this madness, I didn't ever want and don't currently want the thing to take over my life.

God is reminding me of all these things with a twinkle in His eye, because He gave me Cole. When people asked in the past, "how do you handle three boys?" I could always say I had it easy as far as boys went. Ha ha...then #4 proved that there is ample testosterone coursing through his veins, and he's out to convince me. He's also like Audrey - forever "Bowad" (bored - she thinks she's from Boston) - and so he clamors for my attention with antics like standing atop tables, scattering my saw tooth brackets all over the floor, chucking heavy objects around (and at ME), and dropping various household objects into my gallon of latex paint. On any given day, he's equally as likely as I am to be covered in paint. I look forward with great eagerness to that mythical period about which I hear rumors - summer -because the kid LOVES the outdoors. I think we're all sick to death of being caged like animals in this house for the most horrible winter in years, and we're yearning to be free and get out of this dang house already.

I did take the leap a while back and reserve Sundays for Sabbath, and God has blessed that time and I haven't cheated. Only problem is that once I taste of the freedom, I want more of it.

boo

Did you know that Polly Pockets dolls can stand upright under water?

That's all.