I’ve been chosen.

I received my first-ever-in-life jury summons. It came in the mail today. I got butterflies in my stomach, I was so excited. Some people *ahem* you, Mom *ahem* have served several times. Others of us just dream about some crazy trial we might someday be apart of.

With much pride, I quickly telephoned my Beloved Husband. I could hardly contain myself- “I got summoned today!” I maintained my composure, but the exhilaration was bubbling over inside of me.

BH was clearly unappreciative of this highly-esteemed duty to which I have been called. “Well, huh. How’s that gonna work? You better tell them you can’t do it; you’ve got five kids at home.”

What? The courthouse doesn’t have a free daycare?!

Surely, in order for me to do something new and exciting perform my civic duties, they'll take care of my kids, right?

After scanning my paperwork, I called him back. I kept my smugness discrete and matter-of-factly presented the "bad" news. “Having five little kids at home is not one of the reasons for requesting an exemption.”

Quite the pragmatist, BH says, “Well, then, you’ll just have to show up with all your kids. I’d bet they’d send you home right away!”

Well, okie dokie then.

“Huh,” I said. “Maybe they’ll want me the week of Thanksgiving when your mom is in town. In-laws are good babysitters. And I can do my jury duty. (Insert my ha-ha-so-there grunt of satisfaction here.) How ‘bout that.”

Yeah, I know, it was over the phone. But that didn’t stop the exaggerated shake of my head and wag of my finger.

“That’s what I’m praying for. That they want me the week of Thanksgiving. My term of service is the month of November, you know.”

I grabbed a pen and didn’t hesitate to fill out my “juror profile” paperwork. (I only have five days to get it returned, you know.) I had no more than gotten my name down-- first, middle, last- and with my best penmanship, of course-- when I glanced above at the directions.

Yes, I absolutely can follow instructions. I just have to read them first. I’m one of those people who often skips the reading in favor of doing things by common sense or by looking at the pictures.

Seriously. How hard can it be to fill out jury summons? I mean, puuh-leeze. Goodness gracious, granny. It's a juror form that the average Joe has gotta fill-in!

But, alas, there are no pictures on the jury profile form.

If so, it would have shown a big circle around a black pen and a big X through a blue pen.

PLEASE USE BLACK INK ONLY.

Oh great. My first jury summons, and I’ve already screwed up. I just wrote my best-penmanship name with a blue pen. Will they dismiss you for that?

So I took a black pen and wrote over the blue. My best-penmanship name is now in big, bold, BLACK letters.

Subconsciously, I think I may have done this purposely. Now they’ll notice me for sure.

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I did it.

Once I started, there was no turning back. I couldn’t quit. I thought about it, but it was just too late.

It’s bittersweet, but I’ll be okay.
I may cry in the morning, but I’ll be okay.
It’s sad when things change, but I’ll be okay.

I may never see all those sweet curls again, but now I can clearly see the precious eyes and sweet face of my handsome baby boy.

THE EVOLUTION OF A HAIRCUT.

The Mop.

The Mullet.

The Mushroom.

My little man.

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Tonight, Blessing #5 went out into the garage with me. While out there, he found the bike trailer and did not skip a beat about climbing into the seat and getting himself ready for a ride. He worked at getting his helmet on his head and his seatbelt across his lap.

It was a sweet moment... worthy of pictures but not of a ride.

It wasn't for the fact that there were four other blessings inside, two confined to the upstairs (a.k.a. punishment) while two were in the family room watching a movie (a.k.a. privilege). Or even that it was already dark outside, for that matter.

I just didn't think we'd make it very far. We wouldn't have even made it to the driveway.

It was, thanks to my last bike ride and courtesy of the goatheads, because I have not one flat tire on my bike but two. And it was because of those two flat tires that, after my last bike ride, I got to carry the stinkin' bike home. And it was because I had to carry that stinkin' flat-tired bike home that I had extra-bruised shoulders and extra-sore muscles.

Humph.

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Monkey Daddy had his birthday yesterday. We went out to dinner (mmmm... Chapala...) before Blessing #2's soccer practice, and then after practice, we came home for celebratory birthday pie. I made a banana cream and a chocolate.

I was a bit surprised, not that all kids wanted a little of both, but that they particularly wanted banana cream and asked for it first. Though, had I any foresight, I would've predicted such behavior by the three child-size fingerprints I found in my meringue.

This morning we made a trip to Wally's to get some groceries.

Blessing #3 Thor said, "Look at my muscles, Moma! Look how strooong I am! I can pick up this bi-ig *grunt**grunt* hot dog *grunt*!"

Yep, that's right- I went shopping with a su-per-he-ro... now how many of you can say that?

And if you happen upon me and my superhero in the grocery store, do not shout, "Hey! Look! It's a bird! It's a plane! It's Superman!" because said superhero will take offense at such greeting.

He will quietly, yet firmly, correct you. "I am not Superman. I'm Thor."

Blessing #4 said, "Zip me up, Moma! It's cold!" And I zipped her up. You'll notice that she had her jacket on backwards. It was just easier that way.

It was chilly. She freaked.

So out came the jacket, and she worked at getting it on.

First it was inside out. She freaked.

Then it was upside down. She freaked.

So when she had her arm in the wrong hole, I told her that was the neat, easy way to wear a jacket.

Blessing #5 said nothing, as he is a boy of very few words. But he did manage to permanently wiggle out of the shopping cart seat belt and ride through the store facing backwards. He was happy and still, so I didn't bother turning him back around. If I had, he'd have just fussed, squirmed, and wiggled out again.

After the drive home, I turned to find him with both legs out and over the carseat shield, sitting in a scrunched-up, sprawly-leg lounge. But, by the time camera was out of purse and into hand, said legs were no longer up and over... but through the center strap instead.

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The previously noted blessing now resembles a fruit salad.

Thing 21: While apparently left unattended as Monkey Moma assembled birthday pies for Daddy, I found my big sister's scented markers, uncapped all eight of them, and decorated my entire body.

I have blue lips.
I have a green tongue.
I have red lines up to my thighs.
I have purple squiggles on my arms.
I have an orange and yellow belly.
And my brand-new football shirt is prettied-up, too.

I'm colorful and I smell good.

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20 Things at 20 Months...

I have a craving for cat food. Whenever I can sneak into the laundry room, I will smash in a mouthful of Friskies.

And try to save some for later by hiding a handful or two in tightly-clenched fists.

I have absolutely no interest in dog food. Yuck! Who'd want to eat that stuff?

Moma will find me with telltale cat food juice on my face, as I try to sneak back out of the laundry room.

And sometimes I stick out my tongue and splutter crumbs every where.

This is especially funny when Moma leans over me.

The picture up there is from a time when I spluttered Friskies on Moma's face... and gravity went into effect and some of it landed back on me.

I like to hide in the hutch cabinets.

My moma will find me, though, because my fingertips stick out over the door.

I also like to climb into the pet carrier.

I put my head down and pretend to sleep.

I haven't figured out that boogers are edible yet.

But I have figured out how to stick my finger up my nostril.

I hold it up there until I decide to poke it somewhere else.

Like my belly button.

And that makes me giggle.

I still continue to scream and holler at every bath, as I have since birth.

But I still love playing in the water outside.

I even get all wet with the cold hose water and don't mind a bit.

In fact, I laugh as I hold the hose over my head and drench myself.

That was number 20. More fascinating facts another time.

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Habakkuk 3:16-19

I heard and my heart pounded, my lips quivered at the sound; decay crept into my bones, and my legs trembled. Yet I will wait patiently for the day of calamity to come on the nation invading us.

Though the fig tree does not bud and there are no grapes on the vines, though the olive crop fails and the fields produce no food, though there are no sheep in the pen and no cattle in the stalls,

Yet I will rejoice in the LORD, I will be joyful in God my Savior.

The Sovereign LORD is my strength...

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When going to the garage to look in the sewing box for a new needle, do not leave three spools of thread on the table. Because while in the sewing box, you might become distracted looking at patterns and stay in the garage a little bit too long.

Upon coming back into the house, you might find your baby walking around with your blue and gray threads. You will quickly snatch the spools from his hands and say, “nu-uh-uh!” and sigh with relief that you caught him in time.

But then you might walk into a web of red and discover that your three-year old has gone in circles around the house—kitchen to dining room to living room to entry way to family room to kitchen to dining room to…. (you get the idea)—and has wrapped the house with the entire spool of red thread.

And then you get to gather it all into a bundle for the trash while it catches on furniture and feet.

And then you’ll have to go buy more red thread.

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Surprisingly, I left my Costco shopping trip (though, technically, calling it a "vacation" would be a more appropriate description since I’m practically in there long enough to have my newspaper on hold and my mail forwarded… long enough that store employees actually mention it to me. “Wow! You’re still here? You’ve been here for-EVER!”) without a single box of cereal. And it was intentional!

Yet, inevitably, as with every shopping excursion, six purchase events happen.

1- I leave with less of an item than I intended to buy.

Today I left with four gallons of milk, and I wanted six.

2- I leave with more of an item than I intended to buy.

Today I loaded three boxes of peanut butter toasty crackers into the back of the car, and I planned on only buying two boxes.

Count ‘em. Three boxes… That’s 135 packages of toasty crackers. That’s 810 toasty-cracker sandwiches.

3- I leave without any of an item I intended to buy, whether it’s my fault or the store’s.

Today I did not get my A-1. That was my fault. I saw it an aisle over, but by the time I got to that aisle I had forgotten why I was there.

I also did not get my pork roasts. That was the store’s fault. They didn’t have any.

4- I leave with items I did not intend to buy.

Today I left with a box (remember, this is Costco, so I left with a bulk-sized box) of Yogos. I’m not sure when it was put into the cart, but I reckon it was around the time when I was returning boxes of granola bars and fruit snacks to the shelves. Other oh-so-tasty kiddy treats that mysteriously made their way into the basket. At least I now have my Cubbies snacks for Awana ready to go… unless someone gets into them before Wednesday.

5- I leave with an impulse buy… that was of poor judgment.

Today I bought a bag (again, a Costco bag) of chocolate chips. Why do I need four-and-a-half pounds of chocolate chips? I don’t. But having a bag in the freezer is so nice and handy if I want to make chocolate chip cookies. Or if, when no one is looking, I want to grab a handful to eat.

6- I leave without the almost-bought impulse buy… that would also have been of poor judgment, but I’m still dreaming about it.

Today I had the box of triple chocolate chunk brownies mix in the cart and eventually put it back on the shelf. I make yummier brownies than in a mix… but the mix is so quick and easy, and the box had six bags of mix in it. And mmmm…. Chocolate is so yummy. And triple chocolate chunk brownies are yummy. Yummy enough for me to forget they're not made from scratch.

Other things that make for a memorable experience:

I forgot B#5’s milk in the car which wasn’t a concern until lunchtime (which was at the Costco food court since we were there all morning). He had water in a cup with a straw like the big kids. He drank some. And spilled most of it all over his jeans.

At lunch, B#4 fell. Twice. Slid off the slippery seat and slipped right on under the table. Twice. Monkey Moma received many horrified stares from onlookers (understandable if I had pushed her or had laughed afterwards). She cried, not because she was in pain, but because she was embarrassed. The falls hurt her pride a bit, so she covered her eyes with her hair bandana.

B#3 was in charge of getting the leftover half-slice of pizza to the car without dropping it on the floor or in the parking lot. I folded the paper plate in half, so that he’d just have to carry it inside the plate taco. As he fumbled around with plate, the lady at the table next to ours laughed about the likelihood of me making it home with a clean slice of pizza. I told her it was unlikely, but laughed that they would just have to eat it off the ground.

B#3 made it home with the pizza slice safe and sound. Of course, after we got in the house, I carried it in and then let it slide right out of the plate taco. It went *splat* on the carpet. I picked it up, blew it off, and stuck it in the refrigerator. Beloved Husband came in from work early, looked in the fridge, said “Mmm! I haven’t had pizza in SO long!” and ate it.

B#s3&4 are dressed in soccer uniforms... with mismatched shoes and socks and shinguards. And B#3 says, among many other totally hilarious things, "Okay. I'm Troy Bolton." Yes, even the little ones like HSM. We are patiently waiting for 2 to come out on video so we can watch it.

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First-grade friends

Blessing #2 on the drive home from school:
Hey, Moma... I think I have a new best friend!

Monkey Moma: Oh, really? Who is it?

B#2: Well, it's a girl... but I don't know her name...

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