Temper, temper.

Pierce has a fierce temper. I know this. Still, I was surprised to find this when I went to get him out of bed after his nap that he refused to take. Instead, he spent the time displaying his anger, not only verbally, but also physically from the evidence:

Poor monkey lost his mouth. The stuffing was everywhere. His eyes were only saved because I must have sewed them on stronger than he could pull, from the looks of them.

I’m a little bit afraid.

Book Review

I was recently asked to review the book The Reunion by Rachael McIntire. It was published by Elisha Press.

The Reunion is a novel meant to be read aloud to your whole family or enjoyed by readers around age ten and up. My kids were clamoring for me to read “just one more chapter” each time we read, and they were hanging on the edge of their seats. Characters Rebecca, Sarah, and Amanda became household names and were frequently discussed among the children. Each of my kids age 4 and up were thoroughly engrossed, waiting to find out what might happen. The story begins as baby Sarah was left on the doorstep of a Christian family. Sarah becomes Rebecca’s sister and the story details the growing up years of Sarah and Rebecca together.

Amanda, also adopted, but to a distant and unchristian home, was raised by nannies and most definitely not in the church. How she grows and how Sarah grows was much discussed as my children realized that not all children have the home life they do. Tender topics were discussed with grace and the story had a fun twist that I have to admit was somewhat predictable for me – but my kids did not see it coming. They were thrilled and excited and I have a feeling we’ll be talking – and re-reading The Reunion for many years to come. Both of my older daughters, age 9 and 7, have already re-read it once. It was well written and, while the Christian family seems nearly too perfect living how we all ought but struggle to, it made a positive impact on my kids. Thumbs up from this momma!

If you are interested in buying a copy for your family, use code REVIEW-FALKENA at http://thereunionstory.com/ for $2.00 off until the end of February. After that, the discount reduces to $1.00 off.

I was not paid for my review. I did, however, receive a free copy of The Reunion. All opinions are mine and my family’s. Read excepts of this review and the reviews of others at http://thereunionstory.com/reviews/.

Grit your teeth and smile.

My favorite photo out of the Christmas bunch – she just looks so tolerant, doesn’t she?!

I think she likes her new backpack.

He couldn’t stand it, he was so excited.

He loves his sister.

Feigned glee over a gift she helped me pick out…

Dawning realization that the pile of tubes they were looking at actually makes a 15 foot trampoline…

…and Pierce got crabby and missed the photos. Oops.

Merry Christmas!

Christmas numbers.

There are 17 people in my house this Christmas. All family, crowded together under one little roof. Ten little people, all having the time of their lives and making memories that will last a lifetime. Seventeen people, one bathroom, 51 meals a day to prepare, and more games played than I can count.

One Christmas trampoline, gifted early, being well broken in by 20 little legs (and a few adult ones too). Two black dogs, unsure about being friends, tolerating one another and joining forces when it’s time to tree the cat. One Christmas tree, decorated in tinsel in the name of making it less homely, now decorating seventeen people with it’s tinsel. One baby boy, unsure of the level of noise in his home, raising his level of crabby to an all time high. One little girl, bossing around the dogs in her big girl voice, fully expecting to be obeyed and becoming indignant when she’s not. The same little girl, asking numerous times if the visiting dog is a dog or a cat. Our cat shares the same name. The visiting dog is the size of a cat far larger than any I would consider safe and welcome in my home. And she can bark. It’s so confusing.

What a wonderful life.

Neighborly update.

Just a follow up to the story of our backyard neighbor. Today we made cookies and took those and some homemade soap over (Does that totally give the wrong message? I hesitated. It’s lovely soap, but does that scream, “You need a shower!”?) and knocked on their door. He recognized me, I got to meet his wife, and other than a minor mishap involving water and a Ruby-sized propelling a rocking chair far to vigorously, we had a lovely, short visit.

He has yet to attempt the sewing machine, I got his phone number, and plan to take them supper after our holiday plans calm down. Their life story would make you want to cry, and I rather feel like adopting them. I mean really, who wouldn’t want six small children and one stretched-thin lady dropping by and helping out and… okay, I’m not so sure the adopting thing is the best plan. We’ll have to see. Either way, I’m glad we went.

Please. Don’t make me yell this.

Last Saturday, I was introduced to a delightful lady who told many stories of the years past, raising her own children. She led a fascinating life, and we had a great visit.

As she was leaving, she rubbed my belly and told me how blessed I was to have another one coming. I grimaced, unsure how to proceed, when she asked me when I was due. Okay, forget ignoring it and moving on. “Umm… I’m not pregnant.”

“What?!” She couldn’t hear me.

Louder. Heads turned. Yes, thank you very much. I’m not. Now that the whole room knows, I’ll go do some sit ups and attempt to curb such comments.

(Just for the record, it wasn’t exactly upsetting. I mean, really, if I didn’t know better, I’d think I was pregnant. But no, it’s just fat. Six babies and no time to exercise and a smidge of lack of self control kind of fat. Here’s to determination to more sit-ups and less excuses.)

Blue is boring.

Ruby’s my daughter with a flair for color. The more colors and patterns, the better. I regularly have to remind her that striped leggings do not, merely because they are striped, match a striped shirt. Color has to weigh in there too.

Last week, when the kids had to model for the company my husband works for, I got her jeans out.

Poor, poor girl. No stripes. No flowers. No butterflies. No colors! Just a plan pink sweater and ordinary blue jeans. Her protestation went something like this:

“I don’t really like wearing jeans.”

“I know honey, but today, you have to wear jeans.”

“I like leggings and skirts a lot better. Or a dress! I could wear a dress. I could even wear my blue jean dress. Would that be okay?”

“No, honey. Jeans. Just wear your jeans.”

“I know! I have jeans with flowers on the leg on one side. I could wear those! They are pretty.”

“No. Plain jeans. Those jeans.”

“I don’t usually wear jeans. They are just blue. No other colors. Blue is BORING.”

“Duly noted. Tomorrow, you can wear a dress. Today, you wear boring blue jeans.”

She sighed, gave up and walked away. The next day, she got out jeans again. These had rhinestones, leopard print, stars, and butterflies.

She was happy.