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.
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.
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:
What I love about Summer.
#1. Flip. Flops.
Glass half full.
Ice has it’s upsides.
It looked like our back yard was covered in glass.
Pure and Innocent Daughter of a Wise Leader.
This is my second eldest. She’s 7, going on 27.
I know lots of parents say that. But I really mean it.
She loves helping me with book keeping our business.
When I sort receipts: “Can I help Mom?”
“Sure. ” I say. “Here’s how you do it….”
My instructions are quickly followed by a: “This would be easier if you highlighted the dates, Mom.”
“Um… yeah. I’ll get to that….” oh, wait… too late, she’s already got the highlighter in hand.
Later, I had to run to the movies and leave all the paperwork for later, she looks up at me, with those big sparkley eyes: “Um, Can I finish this while you’re gone?”
Yeah, 7 goin on 27.
She has an uncanny memory, she remembers scriptures she only heard once, and where I left my chapstick.
She’s dedicated. Hardworking. And motivated by a burning desire to always do her best.
She is notoriously hard on herself. She always wants to do better.
But, to us, no one could be more perfect.
The cost of Buffalo Slime.
About 40 dollars.
That’s how much the admission price was to Wagon Trails Animal Safari Park.
The kids and I went with my parental figures and we all had a great time. 
Everyone gets a big bucket o animal chow to feed these hungry creatures. So, they come right up to your for their ration of grub.
And in return you get a generous portion of their saliva.
I think the admission cost is so high to offset the amount of soap and hand sanitizer patrons use throughout their visit.
Animal Kingdom
My house is like the discovery channel.
This kids’ wading pool is filled with 18 (Yes, I said 18.) crawlfish.
We also are the proud owners or one goldfish and one hermit crab. (Via the Trumbull County Fair.)
We have a dog… and lately, a stray cat that my children keep feeding.
The stray cat ain’t that bad, it’s good at hunting mice and rats (which we also get, unwillingly.)
But, that cat, the hussy that she is, went and had 5 babies out of wedlock. (Shame on her. Disgrace to her family.)
We have tried to run ‘em off, cuz although cute, they are in fact, wild and quite mean.
But two little ones have decided to stay. In my garage.
They are growing up to be quite fine mousers, just like their Mom. What I have found since they have started hunting:
A headless rabbit.
A headless bird.
The eye and ear of another little bunny.
The foot of another rabbit. (Not so lucky.)
And the poofy little tail of another bunny.
What have we learned here? Rabbits are good eating, no matter how young they are.
What a beaut!
Um, yeah.
My kids caught another snake. They caught one last year too. But this one was bigger… way bigger. It was just a garter snake, no big deal or anything. By that I mean, it’s not venomous. But still, my hubby wouldn’t touch a snake, and yet his three girls found one, chased it across the yard, caught it, named it, pet it and held it all nite.
I blame the discovery channel.
