In Which Piglet teaches Pooh and Tigger about Time

September: Mama, I'm feeling eleven-o'clockish.
Isaiah: I'm feeling twelve-o'clockish!
Nathan: And I'm feeling two-o'clockish!
September: No, Nassan, two-o'clockish is for later.

Testing, testing, 123

My blog seems to be gone? Individual post pages are still there, and the sidebar... but where's the main page?

Help?

Gutenberg all over again

I just can't get over the fact that now, thanks to audible.com, an ordinary housewife can afford to have a first-rate actor read the scriptures to her and her kids all day.

This is huge.

Many books today are written to be read.

Not so the Bible. The Bible was written to be heard.

And this ESV audiobook is phenomenal.

Good stuff. Life-changingly good stuff. I can't recommend it enough.

Hello, stranger!

It's been a while, hasn't it.

I'm surprised you even bothered to check.

I guess I should have expected that I would slow down on the blogging after the arrival of wuggy number 4.

And sure enough.

But somehow it's not because life with four kids is so much crazier, and I don't have time to think.

It's that life is calm. Reflective. Good.

Very good.

And my whole soul has been abuzz with so many thoughts... big thoughts... unfinished thoughts. And while those thoughts we're buzzing, I couldn't really write about them--not 'till I figured out what they were. And I certainly couldn't write about anything else.

But now, though I'm far from answers, I at least know a few of the questions I'm trying to ask. So I think I might be at a place where I can write about them a little bit, and also at a place where I can write about other things.

Like the family of roly-poly bugs in the compost, a young couple expecting their first child. Whom they will indubitably name Harry.

So hello again, and thanks so much for stopping by. I look forward to chatting again soon.

Dear Senator Hutchinson,

I stopped by the local friends-of-the-library book sale yesterday. There's a sign up saying that they are no longer permitted to sell used children's books.

I hadn't taken the internet rumors seriously, but there's no denying it now. Regardless of the good intentions of the law, the CPSIA, as it currently stands written, is preventing me from purchasing old books to read to my children. Vendors now understand it to be illegal to distribute children's books published in the year 1984 or earlier, and many sellers are no longer selling any used children's books at all.

Inside the library, the librarian assured me that they hadn't removed any of the books off the circulation shelves yet. The CPSC has granted libraries a temporary immunity from enforcement of the law.

I'm glad I can still check books out of the library for one year more... but my right to read to my children is now at the mercy of a bureaucracy.

This is not the American way. I never had a chance to vote on the members of the CPSC. They do not represent us, they are not the ones with whom the Constitution has entrusted the responsibility of guarding our rights. I want to live governed by the laws that you write, Senator Hutchinson, you and the other fine men and women of our congress.

I know that these are busy times for senators. You are being asked to vote on more bills than you could possibly have time to even read. This may not seem very important by comparison.

But it is.

As we speak, our children's consciousness of the past is literally being thrown into dumpsters all across America.

Those who are unaware of the past stumble blindly through the present into a future marred by avoidable foolishness. This matters, and it matters now more than ever.

Thank you for your service in representing me and my fellow Texans.

May God give you strength and blessing as you guard and protect the freedoms that make our land so great.

God bless America!

Elena Johnston

Above and Beyond

Upon seeing Andrew riding his bike to work, a family at the school realized that we must be in serious need of a vehicle... and gave us a perfectly gorgeous 2000 Expedition.

No, I'm not joking.

It's sitting in our carport right now.

And the van--which had been running smoothly ever since we began to pray for it incessantly--has now stopped running.

We were fully confident that God would provide for our transportation needs. We just had no idea that He'd do it so spectacularly.

And His timing, as always, was nothing less than impeccable.

Idyllic afternoon

It's been quite nippy out--it even snowed on Wednesday--but this afternoon was lovely and sunshiny. Isaiah led the older three in assisting the roly-poly bugs in their farming endeavors--didn't you know that roly-poly bugs plant their crops in neatly plowed little rows? Willard discovered grass, and Nathan collected fallen leaves, showing me how each leaf changes color progressively, green-golden-red, while I ambled slowly through the Republic. Plato improves with interruptions, I think--it gives the dialogue breathing room, keeps me from rushing on too fast. All the questions about the good life become so much more immediate, too, and it's very sweet indeed to step back and see that this is precisely it.

Baby's first camping trip

Campfire Questions

For Thanksgiving, we went camping with some friends from Andrew's work. It is a good thing to strip everything away and touch what's real. Even the rain dripping into the sleeping bags is real, and being real, it is good.

A good way to judge the real-ness of things, I think, is to try to explain them to a four-year old. As it turns out, it is much easier to explain electromagnetism to a preschooler than, oh, say, the CMA awards. Or the phrase "dot org." The things God makes are quite frequently much more complicated than the things man makes, but they are real and solid on every level.

Kids this age will ask a million questions wherever you are--it's just what they're supposed to do. The difference is that out in the woods, the questions that they ask are all well worth answering. Sometimes I don't know the answer, like the question "what do armadillos eat?", and sometimes the questions lead to more questions, like "what is fire made of?", but the questions are always worth exploring.

In case you were wondering, armadillos snuffle through the leaves looking for grubs. And although I still have no idea what fire is, I can tell you that the pre-Socratics make a whole lot more sense when you're sitting around a campfire with preschoolers.

Lost in Translation

So funny.

My husband...

...is on his way to work.

14 miles away.

on his bike.

Yup. He's been riding 28 miles a day, and we're doing just fine as a one car family.

My husband is so cool.

=)

Confused

So let me get this straight. The world leaders got together last week to discuss the global financial crisis, and to establish a spiffy new international bureaucracy to keep an eye on things, so that they won't be blindsided again. Because all this was so very, very shocking. Nobody saw it coming. Did I mention that it's shocking?

Fine.

But then how is it that several years ago, several different people--ordinary people, not privy to any sort of special information, just ordinary statistics about mortgage rates and such things--explained to me that we were on a collision course for global economic meltdown in 2008?

I'm confused.

Better Parenting through Laryngitis

I'm rediscovering the power of a whisper all over again.

solidarity

I forgot to change my address, so I was still registered to vote in our old neighborhood. We had a little picnic in Angie's back yard before we all trooped down together to the elementary school to vote.

September wanted me to vote for Miss Angie. 'Cause she's a girl.

Nathan wanted me to write in George Washington. Because of the crazy hair. Nathan still regrets the decision to let me buzz his head, and looks forward to the day when his own crazy hair grows back out. I think I'll draw the line if he ever wants a powdered wig, though. There are limits.

Andy's classes were almost over by the time we were done, so we went and picked him up. His students and coworkers cooed over the baby, and then he rode home with us instead of his usual carpool.

Andy was registered to vote in our new neighborhood. I waited in the car with little Willie and sleepyhead September while Andy and the others trooped in to the polling place. He said there was a television reporting election news inside, and lots and lots of cheering. Probably illegal, but inspiring nonetheless.

I didn't vote for Obama. I disagree with him profoundly on many issues. On some issues we strongly support the same goals--we just have different opinions on how to get there. My biggest hope for government is that it will be too limited to engage in massive oppression. Cynical, I know, but I really do think history bears this out.

Even if I was more optimistic about government in general, though, there's still that one issue where I think Obama's position is not merely misguided, but actually quite wicked.

Frankly, I'm a bit worried about what's to come in the next four years. At least, I would be, if I wasn't working on a setting for Psalm 131. Good words for times like these.

O Lord, my heart is not lifted up
My eyes are not raised too high.
I do not occupy myself with things to great and too marvelous for me.
But I have calmed and quieted my soul,
like a weaned child with its mother.
Like a weaned child is my soul within me.
O Israel, hope in the Lord, from this time forth and forevermore.
(ESV)

I didn't vote for Obama, and I obviously don't think he was a good choice for our nation.

Nevertheless, I can't help but be excited for my neighbors. Really, really excited.

In as much as these sorts of things matter, this is WAY cooler than having a woman, or a guy with great hair, in office. I profoundly disagree with the man... but there's a sense in which this is a truly beautiful and inspiring moment in our nation's history.

Some things need no explanation.

But the moon definitely needs a sign.

Compliments of Isaiah, with some help from MS Paint.

It says "moon," and I think it might even include an explanation about how it's made out of cheese.

Now doesn't that clear things up?

The Miracle Scale

We've been reading Charlotte's Web lately. Having watched the animated version more times than I care to admit, the wuggies are obsessed with the story. Throughout the day I see them acting out stories about Fern and Avery and Wilbur and Charlotte, and Nathan in particular was clamoring to have me read the book to them. We've been enjoying it a lot.

This evening we read the chapter in which Mrs. Arable sits down with Dr. Dorian to discuss her concerns about Fern's stories of talking animals.

Upon hearing Dr. Dorian express his readiness to believe such things, Nathan became very thoughtful.

"Animals don't talk in God's story. God's story is about us."

As the story continued, Dr. Dorian remarked about the miracle of the ordinary spiderweb, and Nathan once again became thoughtful.

"If an animal spins a web, that's a little miracle. Not a big miracle, just a little miracle. If an animal talks, that's a little miracle. But if an animal starts playing the piano, that would be a huge miracle. That would be a ten miracle."

He paused for a moment, carefully weighing the various quantities of wondrousness.

"And if an animal came in and cleaned the refrigerator, that would be a five miracle."

And there you have it.

MetaHobby

The other day, I zipped down to the gas station to pick up an Auto Trader. I must have done this countless times with my Daddy as a little girl, but this was decidedly the first time I've ever had any intention of looking at it myself.

I'm trying to cultivate an interest in cars. We will be needing a new van sometime in the near future--the days of our dear doopah-mobile are numbered, I am afraid. Our mechanic (thank God for honest mechanics!) will not allow us to put any more money into fixing its overheating problems. We're managing the symptoms quite effectively for the time being, but we know that the end is near at hand for our four-wheeled friend.

So there will be big decisions to make in the near future... and it's hard to make good decisions when you're bored by the topic.

However, I'm thoroughly confident that if one intelligent person is interested in a topic, surely there must be something interesting about it, and any other intelligent person should be able to develop an interest in it. It's an important principle, and one that has a vital role in my parenting philosophy. My goal is to encourage the wuggies to become interested in worthwhile things, not to entertain them with the things that already interest them.

So now I'm seeing that I need to apply this to myself. It would be very useful right about now to be interested in cars... and there's no reason why I shouldn't be able to become interested in them. After all, my Daddy finds them fascinating.

So I've been spending quite a bit of time on the phone talking about the respective merits of vans and minivans and station wagons. I expected him to have lots of good advice on the vehicle-shopping process, and to point me toward good resources. I did not expect him to be able to instantly rattle off the names of every vehicle on the market which seats 8 or more passengers. Along with sundry details about the construction of most of the different models. I knew Daddy knew a lot about cars, but I had no idea he knew this much.

I think my project might be working. I'm not entirely bored by cars anymore, and estimating the real cost per mile of different vehicles is actually a lot of fun.

But really, it's the process of becoming interested in things that interests me the most.

I think I might be starting to make a hobby out of developing hobbies.

Graduation

When the generous folks at church throw you a lovely baby shower, while the baby of undiscovered gender is still snuggled up inside, you get a lot of diapers.

As I sorted them according to size, and added up all the size ones, I realized that there were about as many there in that pile as we were likely to go through while he was still small enough for them.

There was something bittersweet about seeing all his size one diapers all lined up together in one pile. It was a big pile... but finite.

The other day we came to the end of the pile. It was time to break open the size 2 diapers.

It's a bittersweet moment, and all the more so because I knew it was coming.

Calm after the storm

We made it through the hurricane unscathed, and our utilities are back up and running, although we're still supposed to boil the water.

Airplanes are flying overhead once again, the stranded crawfish we rescued is safely back home in the bayou, and things are just about back to normal for us.

At least, as normal as they can be, when life is so far from normal for so many other people. Most of the grocery stores are still closed in our neighborhood, and with all the gas lines and impassible roads and non-functional lights, it's really not a good idea to drive very far. So I'm still getting creative with the food in the pantry. But the options expand substantially when you have electricity. =)

Meanwhile, all the schools are closed, so Andy has the week off, although he'll probably go in later in the week to help clear out the rubble.

God has been very merciful to us. Ike brought so much devastation to so many people, but for us the storm brought only the soft glow of candlelight, and a chance to get to know our neighbors better.