Testing. Testing. Is this thing on?
So… it’s been a while. How ya been? Good? Good. The family? Doin’ well? Good. How’s work? Eh, well, two outta three ain’t bad.
Me? Well, I am glad you asked.
Alina is runnning cross country this year. Her best pal join cross country as well. So they get to hang out and run till blisters cover their toes. She loves it. Except for the running part. And the blister part.
Alina also is playing soccer as well this year. As well as an avid member of FaceBook. Wait… what’s that? That’s not a sport? Well, what about YouTube? No?!? Sigh. So she’s not that sporty. But she is gifted. Her drawing skills have excelled over the summer break. She took her sketchpad everywhere. For example, I had to make her put away her paper and pencils while we were at the Forth of July Carnival & Fireworks in my hometown. She’s THAT dedicated.
Keni also playing soccer. On the Trasher team. They are doin much better than last year. Thankfully. Last year I coached. This year, I do not. Maybe that’s why they are doin better. Hmmm… I hadn’t thought of that before. Anyways, this summer Keni has perfected her frog catching skills. All summer we had scores of those things. First in the wading pool. Then in pop tubs. Then in small buckets. She walk to her Grammies? Come back with a frog. Go for a ride in the semi truck with her dad? Come back with a frog. Go to my parents house? Come back with a frog. She has yet to find a price tho.
Reggie? Also playing soccer. I know. I know. I can’t believe we are the “soccer family”. There are so many other things I would rather be, than the” soccer family.” Like the “museum family” or the “zoo family” the “beach family”… hey! I’d even take the “tv family”… ok, I guess not, but still. So, what was I sayin? O yes… Reggie… she plays for The Heat. She is VERY into this sport. (Although she keeps bugging us about golf, which shell be doin next year, God help me.) She will be the one on the team shouting out the plays. “Get the ball!” or “Pass it! Pass it!” or “Hey! I’m open!” or when she’s defending, she’ll coach the other defenders and goalie, “Here comes the ball… you guys ready?” It makes my heart smile, even tho I don’t care for sports… I can’t get enough of Reggie playing them.
Reese.. o my word. My baby. She’s three and a half now. Busy. Busy. And bored now that her sisters are in school. Because, I am… how do you say? Ah yes.. boring. Reese is a strong and brave girl. A helpless and needy girl. She is an enigma, wrapped in a puzzle, dipped in confusing sauce. She’s not scared of the dark, but terrified there might be a big dog in the bushes. She tells me, “I can do it myself.” when she is on the computer, but says, “I am a baby, so I don’t have to clean, right Mom?”
I have four little girls, but so far none of the are the same as the others. Just when I think I’ve mastered a certain aspect of parenting. Or when I am on the brink of figuring out how the brain of a girl works. It changes up. They grow out of one phase and it’s, “On to the next!” I cannot keep up. They have me breathless.
But I love every minute of it.
Holy Hairballs!!
The process of hair brushing is a necessary evil. Just ask my girls. The torture that results in a untangled hairdo is a thing my girls dread.
They wince. They whine. The squint their eyeballs. They lean forward to try to escape the brushing implement. If they are lucky, a mirror is in front of them, so they can take their face making skills to the next level. It is a treasured time of bonding. And crying.
When the horrendous event comes to it’s beautifully coifed end… the girls will get up and run to the mirror. Where they admire themselves. They demurely batt their eyelashes. Coyly turn and look over their shoulder. They flash a super star smile at their reflection and discover what I sometimes tell them is true. “Beauty is pain.” (That’s a joke.)
The real pain is the hair balls that follow. All tangled up in my brushes. Eww.
Which brings me to my point. (I knew I had one all along.)
I got a new hair brush… check it out…..
Can you see the hair ball waiting to be freed from it’s bristley prison? No? Well, trust me… it’s there. Lurking beneath the black bristles. But, wait… look at that red button…. wonder what it’s for?
Like magic all the bristles disappear into the barrel. Leaving only the abandoned folicles behind.
Now comes the skin crawling duty of removing aforementioned hair.
It’s a dirty job. But someone’s got to do it.
And look!!! It’s like a brand new brush!!
On a side note: how bored am I this morning? I have a ton of house work I could be doin. But noooo! Letting the interweb know about this miracle grooming utensil was at the top of my priority list today. I am a complex lady.
On another unrelated sidenote: Check out my freckled fingers. What’s up with that?
Mystical Love.
Friday afternoon, with vans filled to bursting with sleeping bags, work gloves, preteen gals, moms, snacks a plenty and one grandpa we hit the road.
It was a four hour trip to our destination, The Hannah House in Athens, Ohio. The Hannah House was our home for 2 nights.
We hung out and talked with people who were under the heavy weight of poverty. Who struggled with addictions. Who were disabled. We shoveled gardens. Built compost bins. Prepared meals. Played bingo. Raked leaves. Gathered limbs. Sorted canned goods.
Of of the volunteers there said something I thought was very insightful.
“Loving God and loving others are somehow mystically intertwined. Where one cannot tell where loving God stops and loving others begins.”
Last weekend we served. We worshiped. We loved.
Reese Joslyn.
My youngest turned three last week.
When I was little I remember how time used to drag by. Each Christmas and birthday took eons to get here. A trip to the Champion Hills Department store was the longest drive when i was young. When my parents gave me an extra 15 minutes of playtime, it felt like freedom.
Now that I am.. ahem… older, time whizzes past. My wedding, then a baby, then another, then another, then another. Christmas, then birthday after birthday. Crawling then walking. Cooing then talking. Diapers then big girl pants. Gray hairs then wrinkles.
Where does the time go? Why does it feel so much faster?
I think Reese has all the answers. At the ripe age of three she contains the wisdom of all the ages:
1. Live right now. Taste. Feel. Breathe. Be. When you are young all that matters is right now. As you age you become acutely aware of time and of it’s passing.
2. Don’t be self concious. Get messy. Get sticky. Get dirty. Be naked. (I am not just talking literally here.) It’s hard to enjoy a 2 pound sucker when you are worried about getting your face sticky. You can always wash it off later.
3. Be grateful. For what you have right now. For what you feel right now. Appreciate it fully. Revel in what you have. Cuz life tastes so much sweeter when you do.
Thank you, Reese Josyln. My enthusiastic cascade of laughter. May you always help me to see things through your eyes. Pure and perfect.
We need 100cc’s of Ginger Ale! Stat!
And Ramen Noodles. And popsicles. And to make our couches into beds. And drag out all our pillows into our living room. And force all adults to watch cartoons. To keep the thermometer within reach AT ALL TIMES. And for my arms to get sore from rubbing backs.
Because this, my friends is what sickness means in the Neff House. It is a ritual we go through when each child shows signs of any illness. And yesterday we didn’t just experience one sick child, but three. Three children, all with the same complaints,: “Mom, my neck hurts.” and “Mom, my head hurts.” and Mom, my belly hurts.”. If you have children, then you should recognize these maladies as symptoms of strep.
So now we wait for the doctor to open his doors. A mere 10 minutes from now I will begin the calling to try to get through to a doctor’s office whose phone lines will be, no doubt, busy from all the other parents trying to get their children in to see him today. We will pray for favor. Amen.
Below you will enjoy picture of each ailing one.
First Reggie. Notice she is pretty excited about the prospect of getting to stay home. “Mom, do I get to stay home from school tomorrow?” She likes to see the glass half full. She enjoys what she can outta this experience. She is also an original child and has decided to mix it up with an additional complaint, “Mom, my one ear hurts.” She always has to be the best. (Over achiever. Humph.)
Reese, ah my baby. She was pretty upset about this whole illness thing. She acted as if someone gave it to her on purpose. Like we did it TO her. And she let us all know. Oh, the grouchiness that has ensued after the onset of the, “Mom, my neck hurts!” Oh, the grouchiness. But, oh, the change in her that was wrought with one dose of Motrin. Ah, Motrin. In my prayer time last night lifted up thanksgiving for the person who invented Motrin. It is in my humble opinion, a miracle drug. Thank you, God. Amen.
Keni, though reacts differently. She has a super immune system and never ever gets sick. (She’s like her Dad.) And when the day does come that her body submits to a germ, she is very disappointed. In herself. “Mom, what about my homework?” and “Mom, what about my test?” and “I CAN”T miss my test!” and “I will get in trouble!” and “What about my library book?” She runs through all the possible horrible implications of missing her schooling. The little brain just won’t let her rest. It is bad enough she is being tortured in body, but I think the mental torture she puts herself through is much worse.
She should embrace the situation. Like this:
The Tattooed Lady
I don’t know if you all realize this or not, but… I love Kraynaks. I go every year, twice a year. A holy pilgrimage, if you will, once at Easter to see the Bunny Land and once at Christmas to see Electric Christmas.
But horror of all horrors, we missed Electric Christmas. One delay led to another and the next thing you knew it was over.
Procrastination is never a good idea.
In an effort to avoid missing the upcoming Electric Holiday display, I loaded the kids in the van and we headed out, on Valentines day. For future reference, Valentine’s Day is a good day to celebrate Easter. No lines. At all. It was slow paced and dare I say? Relaxing.
The kids and I had a great time. And their joy was further compounded when my Dad gave them each 5 dollars to spend on whatever the wished.
At this point you may wonder what that story has to do with that picture up there. (Some of you may not be wondering, because you know me. And my pathalogical need to over explain things. Bear with me. Thank you.)
Well, Reese at the tender age of two is quite the bargin shopper. She bought a little wind up fuzzy white bunny that hops across the floor, a little blue basket to carry it in, and white chocolate bunny sucker, and a page of 100 Go! Diego! Go! tattoos. (I know! That’s a lot for five bucks, huh? My kinda woman.)
Anyhoo…these tattoos are the sole reason for this post. Late last night Reese applied a copious amount of tattoos to her little naked body.
One on each cheek. One on the back of each hand. One on the top of each foot, eighteen on her right leg, five on her left leg.
Then she moved on to others in her family, sharing a mix of her old love: Diego and her new love: tattoos. She tattoed each of my hands as well, and my forehead. She got Alina while she was in bed, one on each of her hands, then one on her leg after she fell asleep. Keni and Reegie also have thier fair share of skin art, and I think it’s would be a true thing to say that Chuck is the only construction worker who has a Diego Tat this morning on his arm.
So as the Neff’s go out into the world today we push the envelope fashion wise. Making a statement. Of our love for Reese and her love for Diego (and tattoos.)
We are nothing if not a trendsetting family.
My Newest Addition.
MacBook Pro. Plastic. Silver. 15″ Screen. Glorious.
Welcome. Welcome to my home. Welcome to my family. Welcome to my heart.
Catching Up.
A massive tower built by Reggie. A proud moment. (Moments after this picture was taken it toppled.)
Keni’s big accomplishment this holiday? She fell and kissed the cement. In return the cement took most of her two front teeth.
Me after eating 8 days of Christmas goodies. Side note: Reese took this picture. Another Side note: My manicure? Press on nails.
Our tree.Which I love. It is so pretty. The girls decorated the whole thing themselves. I will be hiring out my little elves next year. Make your reservations now.
Rock Stars.
Reggie looking beautiful for her Christmas Program.
And Alina ready for her band concert.
Howdy Hollydays Pardner.
Our Lil Tumbleweed in her Christmas Program: “Christmas at the OK Corral”.
The whole posse.
Side note: Reese had a severe ear infection that night. We went straight to the school from the doctors office. She is such a tough cookie. And Keni had broke her two front teeth the day before her program. (Hence the metal mouth and huge sore on her lip.) My children, they are an adventure.
