She did it!

Heather got her drivers license today. She was so excited she could barely contain herself. I was invited to sit in the backseat for the drive home, so she could experience the thrill of "driving" without an adult in the front seat. She smiled and giggled the whole way home.

We pulled into the driveway and Heather ran next door to show her license to the neighbors. It's nice to see Heather so happy about driving. I bet I'll get at least a couple months of her running errands for me, before the excitement begins to wear off.

The library: I just can't stay away.

Yesterday I was trying to run errands but found myself doing the same things over and over. I was stuck in an endless loop and couldn't escape....Like a nightmare you just can't wake up from. So there I was, back at the library for the THIRD time that day. The lady behind the desk looked up at me with a confused/surprised expression on her face. (Yes, you have seen me before...)

"Have you been here the whole day?" she asked me quizically, with a pitying expression on her face. Maybe she pictured me eating a sack lunch in one of the bathroom stalls. And I'm trying to decide which was worse---making three trips to the library or spending the day there. So I just smiled...Either way, it doesn't make me look good.

Should I feel bad about beating the crap out of the wasp?

Nick was in the basement playing the drumset and I went down to tell him it was time to eat. I was barefoot and not paying any attention to where I was walking. Suddenly it felt like I stepped on a needle or something. I yanked my foot up, waiting for the pain to disappear---but it didn't. Then I saw that I'd been stung by a wasp lying on the floor, right on the arch of my foot.

Man, it hurt! I feel bad because whenever my kids get stung, I tell them to suck it up and quit over-reacting. But it hurt for a long time. I sat down and grabbed one of Nick's shoes and started beating the crud out of the wasp, the whole time screaming at the top of my lungs, until there was nothing left of the wasp but tiny bits.

My son stopped playing when he noticed my foot had started to swell. "I wondered what you were doing," he exclaimed, after I told him what had happened. See, this is the part that is the most disconcerting. There I was screaming and banging a shoe on the ground for several minutes and my son found this behavior perfectly normal. I guess I need to mellow out a bit so that in the future, it will be more obvious when I find myself in need of assistance...

These are not my hands.

I was driving the other day and looked down at my hands. I could barely concentrate on driving as I kept staring at my hands, thinking, "Whoa, those are so not my hands." First of all, when did my hands get switched with old people hands and second, why did I not notice this was happening?

There are brown age spots on my hands which must certainly belong to my mother or even my grandmother. All I know is that they sure as heck don't belong to me. At first I thought I'd just wait for them to magically change back, but deep down I have the sinking feeling that 1) they will never change back, 2) I'm stuck with them forever and 3) I have been betrayed by my hands.

I've done the denial and anger, so I guess the last step is acceptance. I just need to admit it: I have old lady hands. Okay. Not that I expected to, but I don't feel any better now and have nothing more to say about my old, spotted wrinkly hands. Except this: fair warning, if anyone tries to switch out anymore body parts for old lady ones, I'll be VERY VERY angry.

Follow Me Boys

Brian went with the scouts on a 10-mile hike this weekend to start getting them ready for a 50-mile hike this summer. I don't think they were prepared for the 18 degree weather they had during the night. It was a long, cold night spent awake searching in the dark for wood and standing by the fire trying to stay warm.

The next afternoon Nicholas and Brian came home exhausted with chapped lips and sunburned faces from staying so close to the fire. Nicholas went straight to bed and slept 20 hours to recover.

Things about scouts I learned from this trip:

A scout is strong...carrying their backpack 10-miles on a hike without complaining but afterwards leaves it sitting in the middle of the kitchen floor hoping it will unpack itself.

A scout is kind...and lets their mom and sisters eat the rest of their trail mix.

A scout brave...except when it comes to using any kind of chapstick.

A scout is trustworthy...but can't wait to tell everyone at church about how their scout leader (Brian) fell into the creek.

A scout is clean...yet wears the same clothes for the entire weekend camp out.

When they sold us the car they forgot to show us the secret handshake...

For some reason we had a hard time finding a Honda Fit. When Sarah started driving and it was time to buy a third car, the Fit seemed like the perfect choice. To our dismay, it took us several months to locate one and we finally ended up driving to Parkersburg (1 1/2 hours away) to buy it. In the Bridgeport/Clarksburg area we have seen only 2 other Fits driving around---another silver "twin" and an orange one. For this reason, and perhaps because we're strange like this, we always get very excited when we see another Fit driving down the street. It feels like we should have some special "honk the horn/flash the lights/turn on the windshield wipers" thing every time we pass another Fit. But then I feel silly, "it's probably just us," I think.

Sarah usually drives the Fit, but the other day Brian and I drove it over to the Post Office. Walking into the parking lot we stopped when we noticed THE OTHER SILVER FIT, also at the post office. It felt oddly like a family reunion and we had to force ourselves to stop staring and return to our own car. And then THE OTHER SILVER FIT OWNER came out and stood by his car. We felt foolish and looked away. We knew it was just us, but peeked over at him again anyway. He started waving---he pointed at our car---back again at his car---waved again and put his thumb up. All with a big grin on his face.

Driving home, Brian and I were laughing, relieved that it wasn't one of those one-sided relationships...and then it hit us. We had just missed a perfect opportunity to create some kind of Fit Wave or Fit Secret Handshake...Next time, we'll be prepared.

Little People, London, Hickeys, and Strep: a Week in Review

It's been a busy week. Nancy came and took the kids away. But every day we find little reminders that they were here with us. Like today I put on my shoes and found a little people hiding inside each one. Brian came home from a week in London. He visited all the usual tourist type places including Abbey road and King's Cross Station. Oddly there wasn't a platform 9 (or 9 3/4).

Heather had All-State Orchestra this weekend and another 3 full days of playing her violin. I'm not sure how she found out, but she said that all of the first 10 chairs in the first violin section also sported a violin hickey (she was 10th chair 1st violin). This time, at Steve's request, I took a picture of her hickey. A special note for anyone reading this: I will not be impressed or excited by your hickey. I am not in any way, shape, or form recommending or encouraging hickeys. Unless, however, it is a violin hickey. In which case, Heather and I would like to be the first to congratulate you.

Nick and Sarah were both sick this week, but hopefully are now recovered from strep throat. I've let the rest of the kids know, in no uncertain terms they are not allowed to get sick, as I've no burning desire to return to the doctor anytime soon. Wow, what an exciting week we've had. I can only hope this coming week isn't quite as exciting. I could stand a few days of boring.