Intermission

Apologies, dear readers, for my extended absence. I've got lots to share and talk about.

To be fair, I logged on a couple weeks ago with the intention of posting some photos, but I was shocked to find out I had reached my maximum storage space. But for a nominal fee of $2.99 a month, I can "rent" more. Chip said I can do it, although I've seriously considered starting another blog to avoid this charge.

At any rate, I will be back soon, in one form or another, armed with stories and pictures.

Fire Truck Park

We discovered a neat little park yesterday, so William, Maddie and I went back to check it out today. We had a picnic lunch, climbed on play sets, and, most memorably, played fire fighter. William and I answered "fire calls" to get a cat out of a tree, put out a forest fire, put out a house fire, and ride in a parade. I called him "Captain," and he called me "Captain Mommy." It was a good morning.

Everything really is bigger in Texas. Look at this HUGE acorn!

My Little Gymnast

Abby started her gymnastics class tonight. She had a blast!

Bay Dreamin'

Maddie and William discovered the fun of the bay window today.

Happy Halloween

Field Day

William, Maddie and I spent the morning at school with Abby - it was Field Day!

 

Play Hard, Sleep Harder

Maddie's in that awkward period of not really needing two naps a day. She'll take a nice long one in the middle of the day, but by bedtime, she's exhausted. This is how I found her the other night after dinner:

Model Behavior

I came up with the "brilliant" idea of having a chore/behavior chart. The kids get stickers for things like cleaning the table, sharing/helping, having a good attitude, using good manners, etc. At the end of the day, for every two stickers they received, they get a token. They can then use the money for something fun. Right now they are saving up to see the dinosaur exhibit at the zoo. It's not a competition, as the money goes into a joint fund. The idea is for them to encourage good behavior in one another.

Shortly after I posted the chart on the wall, Abby said, "Mama! I'm gonna make a chart for you too, to see how nice you can be."

Report Time!

I remember my kindergarten report card. I've still got it. It was simple: there were stick figure drawings, and we were "graded" on things like "Plays well with others" and "Knows the ABC's." The grades were either "S" for satisfactory, "N" for needs improvement, or "U" for unsatisfactory. So imagine my surprise when I got Abby's report card yesterday ...

Holy moly. She's got grades for social studies, science, art, music, PE, math and language arts. The S's, N's and U's were replaced with 1s, 2s or 3s, with 3 being the "best."

Little Miss got ones in these areas:
    * "Constructs graphs using real objects or pictures in order to answer questions"
    * "Use information from a graph of real objects or pictures in order to answer questions"
    * "Shows appreciation for the creative work of others"

Guess I gotta step it up on the homework.

For the Love of Chicken

During a phone chat with my mom yesterday, she mentioned she had seen an episode of House Hunters that was filmed in Houston. She asked if the traffic was as bad as they portrayed it. The question took my mind right back to that fateful day ...

I had seen commercials for Raising Cane's, and it looked GOOD. I guess I'm a sucker for boxed meals (surprise!). The description of the chicken fingers, fries, coleslaw, famous sauce, Texas toast and sweet tea was irresistible.

 

For whatever reason, I decided that Friday would be the day. Not knowing the area very well, I scanned the restaurant's website for a location near me, and I chose the one on the only street I was familiar with: Westheimer.

I knew traffic would get worse the later I went, so I packed the kids in the car at 4:15, hoping to beat rush hour. Yes, the restaurant was 8 miles away, but it didn't seem that far. Besides, I knew the route, AND I didn't have to get on the interstate to get there.

Apparently people leave early on Fridays because cars were already bumper to bumper. We inched our way past the Galleria - arguably the worst part of the trip - and drove and drove and drove. Whining from the backseat was nearing a crescendo, and I was beginning to regret letting my taste buds talk me into this torture.

Forty-five minutes after leaving home, we pulled into the drive-thru. The fact that we weren't going inside to eat made Abby and William even more upset. Can't say I blame them; I wanted to get out, too. I explained that we needed to get it to go so that we could meet daddy at home and eat together. Unfortunately, the rationale fell on deaf ears.

The glorious smell of the food made me dread the long drive home. I couldn't stand the thought of driving back the way we came. I pulled out the GPS and thought I'd give ol' TomTom another shot (the places this thing has taken me deserves its own blog).

The route had me getting on the highway, not before driving down a street where Spanish and Vietnamese stores dotted the landscape. Oh, and the panhandlers added to the ambiance.

I turned left, thinking I was going to be getting on the highway but was dismayed when I was only riding next to it on some sort of three-lane service road. I thought I had made a mistake, somehow missing the entrance ramp. I turned down the radio and told the kids to be quiet.

Finally, I made it onto the highway. All eight lanes of it, all full of cars in a hurry to get who knows where. I just wanted to get home. Safely. The thought of eating wasn't appealing anymore.

While not the road I drove on, this is certainly indicative of the type of road I was on.

I then managed to get in the correct lane to merge onto the interstate. Again, more speeding cars. More white-knuckled driving.

Lacking an appetite, I pulled into our garage only 20 minutes after leaving Cane's. I found I could make tears though. Tears of joy.

Wouldn't you know the food was great. Abby said, "Mama! Look how tender these are! It's wonderful!"

After detailing my trip to Chip, I was told not to go outside a 3-mile radius of our home.

Thanks, dear. That's one rule I don't mind following.

Except when it comes to chicken fingers. I've suddenly got a monster craving ...

Nearsighted

I was brushing my hair one morning, thinking about having to start over - find a new church, make new friends, get the kids involved in extracurriculars, etc. The thought of it was a bit tiring. I had almost come to the conclusion that since we were only going to be here for nine months, it wasn't that important to be involved in things. Would anyone notice if we didn't make it to church every Sunday? Would people be affected negatively if I didn't join a play group or run the social circuit? I didn't think so. It just seemed so silly to put that much effort into something that was going to be short lived. 

Then a voice came to me just as clearly as if someone standing beside me had said it.

"You don't think nine months is enough time for me to do anything?"

Point taken. As I've met people and gotten myself and the kids involved in various things, I can certainly see that there are things in God's master plan that I was meant to be part of - right here in Houston.

I'm seeing more clearly now.

Teethin'

Our Megachurch Experience

Our first Sunday in Houston we weren't sure where we should attend church. We had actually decided to visit a small church near our home, but when we couldn't find a parking spot, we headed toward Lakewood Church, home of Joel and Victoria Osteen's ministry.

Wow. The enormity of what we were embarking on hit us as we entered a huge parking garage where we were directed by parking attendants into a spot. Once out of the car, we were swallowed by a swarm of people. We thought it wise to follow the crowd, which led us up a two-story ramp, across a street that was blocked from traffic, and into a massive building. With people rushing all different directions, we weren't quite sure where to find the kids' classes.

But we found them. And I'm not kidding when I say we walked forever between the kids' wings - yes, I said wings. It was staggering to see how many staff people they had working and how many families they could accommodate.

We took the kids' ID stickers, rejoined the stream of people, and headed into the "sanctuary" where lively, upbeat [and really loud!] music greeted us.

Shock. That's all I can say. Something about the enormity of the - OK, let's just call it what it is - arena made me chuckle. In fact, I laughed until we found empty seats, which we found after climbing stairs and winding in and out of rows.

Once settled, I gathered myself and surveyed the crowd. People of all ages, races, nationalities, and incomes were worshipping together. Seeing a sea of people with their hands outstretched to heaven, praising God was pretty awesome. I could hardly enjoy singing along with them - I was in awe.

 

 

A few people, including Victoria, spoke, they "passed the plate," we sang songs, and then Joel got up to preach. Now, I certainly can't be critical of Joel, and I certainly can't claim to know him or his heart, so I'm only commenting on what I took away from the message.

 

It was a message of hope. Been through bad times? Don't worry! God isn't finished yet.

 

Great message. But it left me empty. We read one verse from the Bible. There was no life application. It all seemed like a big motivational speech. That's it.

 

I found this commentary a little while ago, and I think it succinctly explains the experience:

 

"Topping the number one spot is Joel Osteen’s Lakewood Church in Houston, Texas with 47,000 people attending ... Services are held in a former basketball stadium, and televised broadcasts of the services are beamed around the world. His website provides a good idea of what life is like at Lakewood Church. If you have ever read his books or listened to his sermons, there is an amazing commonality to all them. One sermon pretty much sounds like another sermon. One article or book pretty much seems like something you have read before. And what is that message? The gist of all that seems to come forth from this church is about how we can succeed, how we can prosper, how we can feel good about ourselves, how we can have better relationships, how we can have inner peace, how we can make it in this world. It is pretty much a me-centred, feel-good message. With all due respect, the message of Lakewood Church is really not all that much different from a lot of other popular writers and self-help movements."

- excerpt from CultureWatch, Bill Muehlenberg's commentary

 

No mention of discipleship. No mention of what being godly looks like. No mention of sin. Only feel-good stuff.

 

There was even a point when Joel told a joke, but he messed up the first part. He laughed and said, "Don't worry. I know how to edit!" The crowd laughed. And he re-started the joke, for the TV audience's sake, of course. It was a little off-putting, as it seemed a bit fake and rehearsed.

 

I don't know.

 

It just wasn't for me. 

Harpin' on the Harpist

7:26 a.m. CST: "Good morning, Amanda ... Yesterday at AWANA we talked about David playing the harp, and I was very surprised to hear that Abigail is learning to play the harp. What I was wondering is could she bring it in two weeks when we resume our session, as we will have part two of the story of David? She said it was relatively small in size. Did I understand her correctly?"

Imagine my surprise when I received this text en route to school this morning. Actually, I was blown away by the gut-busting laughter that I found I couldn't control.

My Abby? A h-h-harpist?

At the red light I craned my head toward the backseat.

"Abby, did you tell your teacher you could play the harp?"

"Uh-huh," she happily nodded. "Watch." And with that she started playing the air harp [do people play the air harp?!?], her fingers delicately, yet furiously, plucking the imaginary strings. It was actually quite good. "I just feel the music and my fingers start wiggling - I can't control them."

Wait. What? Again, trying hard to contain the laughter but hopelessly failing, I asked, "Did you tell her you had a harp?"

"Yes. I said it was about this big." She held her hands about 8 inches apart. No wonder the teacher said it was relatively small. I wondered if they made harps that size. I began to speculate that Abby must have been quite convincing because, even with me, she spoke seriously.

Trying not to get caught up in the tall tale, I told Abby that her teacher wanted her to bring her "harp" to their next AWANA meeting. Abby's face fell, and she grew quite concerned.

"Just tell her I can't bring it," she said flatly.

Not about to perpetuate this mounting lie, I said, "No! I'm not going to tell her that. You don't even have a harp!"

"Well, can't you buy me one?"

"No! Besides, you don't even know how to play it!"

"Well, you could send me to lessons."

Good grief. A conversation about lying ensued, and I think she finally realized that the truth eventually comes out, even for those pesky, seemingly benign white lies.

The underlying issue was that she was embarrassed about all the other kids in the class being able to play an instrument. Poor thing felt compelled - I reckon - to choose something that she played ... but a harp? Mercy.

I politely explained the truth to her teacher, who was very gracious and very amused.

A harpist. Who knows. Maybe one day, huh?

I'll be darned. They do make mini harps.

One Big Happy Family

Here's Looking at Zoo

Our zoo membership has paid for itself ... We've visited four times already!

The Ankole cattle are our favorite.

We were fortunate enough to find a tame cheetah for this great photo op.

The Funny Thing About Boys

Not having grown up with a brother, I wasn't sure what to expect while raising a son. My summation: every day is an adventure.

* One of the neat parts about our home is that there is a small closet underneath the stairs. Right away I knew it would make a perfect hideaway for the kids. I stashed a few blankets, a bean bag, books and blocks in there. It's a favorite haven for William, especially while playing my Kindle.



"Go away, Mama!" (Notice "his" baby lying next to him.)



* William is quite the little gentleman. He holds the door open for me and Abby all the time. He will extend his hand for a handshake, and he's quick to say "Nice to meet you." The other day I asked him where he learned to be a gentleman. "Daddy," he said with a smile.

* We went to a pool party two weeks ago at another surgeon's home. At one point William got out of the pool, picked up a flower that had fallen on the ground, and took it to a woman sitting nearby. Quite the charmer already. Uh oh.

* William is very, very funny. And I think he knows it. I've said it before, but if we start laughing at him, especially if he's making a funny face, he won't smile and laugh with us - he tries even harder to keep doing the thing that makes us laugh.

 

 

* Abby discovered something last week. "William's underwear has three leg holes in it! Why, Mama?" Uh, no comment.

 

* I guess William's at the age where saying "poo poo" or "poopy" or any other variant is the "cool" thing to do. The other day at the park, he called his little girl friend, "Poopy." Then he said, "Nah, you're not poopy. You're my best friend."

 

* Despite being a hard-headed kamikaze, William is quite skittish about flies (even gnats, which he calls 'bees'), ants (he calls all crawling things 'spiders'), animals in general (cows, ducks, etc.), and his own hair. A few weeks ago William fell down AGAIN and slashed his scalp. I'd seen Chip use dermabond enough to feel confident enough to glue the gash shut. I asked Chip to remove the remnants of the adhesive last night, which, unfortunately, meant cutting out a chunk of William's hair. After cutting his hair, Chip said, "Look, William, a William spider!" And with that, Chip tickled William's face. The poor boy shrieked louder than I've ever heard and nearly fell down trying to get out of the bathroom. Bless his heart.

 

* "William, you know why I love you?" I asked. He shook his head. "Because you're smart, you're handsome, and you're such a gentleman." He leaned over and gave me the biggest kiss on my cheek. Totally melted my heart.

Puff Time!

Maddie is slowly working her way up to foods with texture. She's still trying to decide if she likes puffs. I like watching her figure it out.

Eine kleine Nachtmusik

We had a little night music of our own yesterday. The kids created instruments and put on a performance. Abby served as the music teacher. Boy was she strict.

"Everyone, sit up straight with good posture and listen to this rhythm. Do you understand?" she asked.

" 'Stand," William replied.

"You don't tell me ''stand,' William. You have to say yes ma'am."

"Yes, ma'am," William said, nodding his head.

"OK, listen to the beat and follow along," Abby demanded. William and I tried to keep up with the unsteady rhythm. "No, no, no!" she shouted. "You have to FEEL the music! Don't you understand?!?"

At the end of the lesson, teacher Abby issued a report card. I did well; William, on the other hand, did B-A-D.

Abby drew an outline of the instrument she wanted to create.



The instrument was largely percussion and from the culinary family.

Here's the report card. On the left is a picture of William (with the 'W' above it).
Underneath is his grade of BAD. I'm on the right with the 'G' for "GOOD".

Hats Off to You

Earlier in the week I thought it would be fun to have lunch with Abby at school. She was having difficulty at drop-off time, and I figured having something to look forward to would help her get through the day. I picked Friday as the day for my mid-morning visit.

I found a parking spot near the school and gathered myself. Surprisingly, I was a little anxious! Because we were latecomers to the school, we never really got a tour. I wasn't even sure where the cafeteria was. At any rate, I checked in with the receptionist, announced that I was there for lunch with my daughter, and received a few "approving" looks from staffers. I grinned, feeling like a great mama.

Down the long locker-filled hallway I went, in search of Abby's classroom. Kids' art neatly decorated the walls, and I couldn't help thinking back to my school days.

Inside Abby's room were kids rushing to and fro preparing for lunch. I finally caught a glimpse of Ab - she was putting something away in her desk. Then she hopped over to line up, her pretty blond braid flopping up and down. She was busy chatting with two other girls in line. I was glad to see she had friends. She finally saw me peering through the door window, and we waved to each other like long lost friends.

Twenty-two kindergartners filed into the hall, and Abby and I walked hand-in-hand to the cafeteria. The menu consisted of chicken fried steak fingers, instant mashed potatoes, raw carrots and mixed fruit. Yum.

After navigating our way through the lunch line, we made our way over to her section of the room. I grabbed a folding chair and sat next to Abby. As the lunch period dragged on, the room got louder and louder and louder. It was like watching little ants. Actually, it was like watching 100 kids who had ants in their pants.

I managed to eat while being climbed on, doling out napkins, advising kids to sit on their tails, tattling on a girl for throwing a napkin, opening packets of ketchup, and answering random questions.

When the end of the lunch period came, Abby's teacher asked, "How was lunch?"

I half laughed, "It was an experience."

I quickly left the school, hanging my head low. I'm sure the same staffers I passed earlier noticed the gleam in my eyes and the pep in my step were now absent. I didn't look back to see if they were snickering.

I ain't cut out for elementary school. And that's OK with me.

But hats off to those who are.

The Second First

Abby started school last week (for the second time), and she loves it. Her teacher is great, and she made friends quickly.

I wasn't sure how her first day would be, so I couldn't wait for a report at pick-up time.

When she got in the car, I asked, "How was your first day, sugar?"

"GREAT!" she exclaimed. "I got to use a laptop and GO ONLINE!"

I think she'll like Kindergarten...

Houston, Here We Are!

I've enjoyed our time in Houston so far. Abby is in school, Maddie is crawling, William is potty trained (!!!), and I'm enjoying being a stay-at-home mommy. The temperature is amazing - it's been 90-plus degrees every day we've been here. Seems unusual to us, but we aren't complaining. We've used the pool a few times, and we are finding our way around the city just fine. Kinda feels like an extended vacation, for me at least. We are blessed to be here.

Sweet Home Alabama

During our tight three-day move to Houston, our plan was to leave Saturday night, drive to Erie, get up, and drive to Montgomery, arriving late Sunday night.

We didn't quite make it to Montgomery on Sunday. And I'm glad we didn't. Our delay actually put us there Monday around noon, which allowed my family to visit with us before getting back on the road.

Gaga, Mema and the Kids

Aunt Amber and Maddie

William and Gaga

Grandpa and the Kids

 

 

* Not shown: We also enjoyed the company of Granny, Papa, Uncle Jay, and Aunt Lauren. We missed you, Nana!