Toomer's Corner

I am extremely saddened by the actions of a deranged man claiming to be an Alabama fan. Toomer's Corner is where Auburn fans gather to celebrate victories for the school -- not just football. The trees that grow there have been there for 130 years -- 12 years longer than the Alabama/Auburn rivalry which started 118 years ago next week (Feb. 22, 1893). I have been an Auburn fan since I was about 8 -- the only one in my family. Although I graduated from Bama and now live in Texas, I still wear my Auburn jersey, fly my Auburn flag in front of my house, and taught all 4 of my kids to say "War Eagle" right after they learned "mama." I do not understand this level of hatred.


I am trying to remember that this was the act of one deranged individual and NOT indicative of the entire fan base..... kinda hard to remember that when I see "some" Bama "fans" (and I use that term loosely) celebrating this act of hatred towards our traditions. Several Bama "fans" have not only condoned, but have agreed with this moron's actions as retaliation for someone placing an Auburn National Championship sticker on Bear Bryant's statue and duct-taping a Cam Newton Jersey to it. The obliteration of an icon, landmark, and ultimately of a tradition cannot be compared to placing a sticker or a jersey on a statue. Those were harmless pranks which were easily and quickly cleaned up as if they had never happened. Other's laugh at it and say that it is "just a couple of trees" -- they obviously wouldn't feel that way if it were one of their team's traditions that had been vandalized. As a good friend said about this type of reaction, "It's like laughing at someone who kicks dogs just because I'm a cat person. Ridiculous!"


To help put this in perspective for theose of you not from the South, this is a quote from the City of Auburn's page about Toomer's Corner: "One of the City of Auburn’s most recognizable landmarks, Toomer's Corner is at the intersection of College Street and Magnolia Avenue in the heart of the City of Auburn. With Toomer’s Drugs, an Auburn landmark since 1896, facing what has since 1856 been the anchoring corner of Auburn’s campus, Toomer’s Corner is the nexus of campus and city life. Nowhere is Auburn’s unique spirit, history or identity stronger than at Toomer’s Corner."

So, I find myself praying to God to save a couple of trees.  It isn't that I am ONLY praying for the trees -- it is just one of many things that I am praying for.  "Al from Dadeville" better hope that the feds find him before Auburn fans do. Auburn has one of the best agricultural schools in the country -- if anyone can save these trees, this tradition, and this symbol of Auburn pride, it is us. WDE!!!



Toomer's Corner after it was rolled for the National Championship win in January.  We didn't know it, but the trees had already been poisoned.



My 4 kids in their jerseys in October 2009

What Is It With Me And Bugs?

Okay, here’s a shocker: I don’t like bugs. I don’t like bugs, and I don’t like spiders. I can handle lizards, frogs, even snakes, but if you are smaller than my hand and have more legs than my dog, you are my enemy. I loathe and detest you and every member of your family. I can deal with ladybugs and butterflies, and the occasional moth (as long as it isn’t the kind that dive bombs your head for no apparent reason). I don’t even like ants. I had an ant on my finger and I was showing it to my kids “See? Look at the little legs. God made this creature just like God made – HOLY $%&^! IT BIT ME!” Needless to say my kids will have some interesting therapy sessions when they get older since I cursed and squished the ant into oblivion right before their eyes. Then for a week afterwards I had a huge festering sore on my finger (since I am allergic to anything that bites), and Lorelei (the 4 year old) kept asking if God had given me that boo-boo on my hand for killing the ant.


For Halloween, I bought a dozen plastic spiders about the size of my palm to decorate our mailbox and front porch. The kids all loved them and played with them for weeks after Halloween was over. One day I was picking up the mess that is a constant in my house and I reached down and quickly grabbed what I believed to be one of the harmless plastic spiders from Halloween. It wasn’t. I don’t know about the rest of the country, but here in Texas we have something called the Wolf Spider. These guys are basically harmless and eat bugs (which I applaud) but they are HUGE SPIDERS and therefore they must die. The one I grabbed rather aggressively asserted himself to not be made plastic by climbing out of my hand and up my arm. It really is too bad that there wasn’t a camera on me because I moved in a way that scientists would have had a hard time explaining. You probably would have had to slow down the film to figure out that I was flinging Mr. Counter Attack onto the floor and squishing him with my daughter’s favorite Dora the Explorer book. The amount of adrenaline that coursed through my system in the 2.8 seconds that this happened took hours to dissipate. I was shaking, little sweat beads formed on my upper lip, my pupils dilated, and my eyes were in constant movement. I am certain that I was more hyped up than a meth addict and probably twice as dangerous. Luckily, the kids were all at school when this happened so there was no witness to this total breakdown and I had mostly returned to normal by the time they had gotten home. I took a shower for about 45 minutes – until all of the hot water was gone – and I had to shake out my towel before I used it and every stitch of clothing before getting dressed (just to be sure no relatives were plotting their revenge and lying in wait for me).

In the late Spring there are literally THOUSANDS of these brown bugs called Japanese Beetles that flock towards any light source as if they are trying to cross over into some kind of bug nirvana. They fly around in a drunken stupor colliding with each other and anything else that may be in their vicinity. I do not know where they got their name, but “Japanese Beetle” seems a bit insulting to the Japanese – perhaps a better name would have been Kamikaze Beetles since they dive bomb my head, getting tangled in my hair and causing total devastation to my dignity. But you sort of expect to run into bugs when you are outside. I am deathly allergic to bees and wasps and yet, every time I am outside with a group of people they only buzz around ME – like I am some kind of flower or something. At which point I jump around like I am possessed or engaged in some tribal dance in order to avoid being stung. And I am sure we have all had our own encounter with the gnats that swarm around your head but you are the only one that can see them so you look like you are reacting to some sort of hallucination as you swat, bob and weave to try and get away.

I don’t know what it is about bugs, but it seems that the more you hate them, the more often you encounter them. Some of you will surely remember the story from last May when I was molested in my bed by a huge roach (if you don’t, feel free to go back and read it anytime), then there was the ant and the spider, and every year there are the beetles and the bees and wasps. Don’t even get me started on the mosquitoes that leave half-dollar sized whelps wherever they bite me or the weird little hopper bugs that invade my back porch ever year in the late Summer. You would think that with such an intense hatred for bugs, that I would welcome the presence of spiders. I mean, after all, they eat thousands of bugs throughout the course of their lifetimes. But the truth is, I prefer a good ole can of Raid – or a rather large shoe.

I LOVE You! Chocolate is My Favorite!

I am a white, Southern, Christian, woman who was raised in the great State of Alabama.  Because of this, people already assume that I am at least a little racist, so I try to be conscientious of how I act and what I say so that it cannot be misconstrued as anything prejudiced.  I have also raised my kids not to see skin color any differently than they would see hair color or eye color. 

When William (my oldest) had his first real friendship with a person of color he was almost 3.  He was telling me about 2 friends in his preschool class, both named Anthony.  I said "Does it confuse you that they have the same name?" And he thought about it and said "No, because one of the Anthonys is colored like your coffee and the other one is like your Coke." I was glad that he had not even known that they were Hispanic and Black, but I decided that maybe I should teach him those terms in the future to avoid confusion. 

Bella, my second oldest, is my drama queen.  She is all about glitz, glamour, and fashion.  She is my husband (who is Puerto Rican) made over in female form -- olive complexion, big brown eyes, the whole thing.  The first time she saw a little Black girl with all of the beautiful braids, she wanted the same -- I think that she was about 3, maybe a little closer to 4.  I tried to explain that her hair wouldn't do that, and her over-intelligent response was "Yes it will.  You said that all people are the same and I want my hair like that."  I had to think about this.  She was right, of course.  I HAD told them that all people were the same.  So how do I explain that we are all different but the same to a kid? I told her that it doesn't mean that all of us are just alike -- some are tall and some are short, some have brown hair and some are blondes, etc, and HER hair, which was like MY hair, just wouldn't do that. 

Now Jackson, the 2 year old, SEES the differences in color, but it doesn't bother him. (I am intentionally skipping Lorelei for a reason for now).  William's best friend is a very sweet Black kid from around the corner named Ben.  Whenever Jackson sees other Black people from a distance, he AUTOMATICALLY thinks that they are Ben.  Today while we were waiting in the carpool line, he saw 2 black teenage girls walking across the school lawn and he starts pointing towards them and saying "Mama!  I see girl-Bens!"  Although there is nothing wrong with that, in fact it is kind of cute, it made me realize that had the car windows been down and they had heard him, (or worse, MIS-heard him), it could prove embarrassing.  I made a mental note to discuss with my husband how to best discuss racial difference with our kids.  But leave it to Lorelei to not wait for me to have a plan. 

William went home from school with Ben today, and I took the other 3 with me to do a little shopping -- the Daddy/Daughter Dance is next weekend and the girls needed jewlery, tights, etc, and Jackson needed shoes.  I told them that if they behaved, we could go eat at IHOP (knowing full well that regardless of their behavior we were eating out somewhere because I had not prepared anything for dinner).  So, they were good and we went to IHOP and were seated by a nice looking young Black man who started to take our order by asking what we'd like to drink.  I ordered Coke and coffee (my usual) and the kids wanted milk.  Then Lorelei said that she wanted chocolate milk and then they all wanted chocolate milk.  So Lorelei looks at our waiter, who is patiently waiting for her to finish talking, and says "We LOVE chocolate milk!  Our Grandma makes us chocolate milk and it is sooooo chocolatey!  JUST LIKE YOU!"  The poor guy who had been listening and nodding along as she went on and on looked like someone had just smacked him.  He looked at me and all I could say was "I'm so sorry.  She really doesn't mean anything by it.  She's 4 and has no filter."  Meanwhile, Lorelei is still talking.  She asks him "Do you taste like chocolate?  I think I want to lick you."  I want to crawl under the table.  Bella decides to take over "Lorelei!  Don't be rude!  He's not chocolate, he's just Black, and you cannot lick him."  I am contemplating just excusing ourselves from the table and leaving.  Jackson looks up at the waiter and blurts out "I love you!!  Chocolate is my favorite!! Can I lick you too??!"  Crap.  So I am now waiting for management to ask us to leave and I can feel the heat radiating from my face and I know that I am beet red with embarassment so I just put my head in my hands and start to apologize again.  But before I can even say a word, our great waiter starts laughing.  I look up and I find that he is laughing at ME!  He says, "I've never had a customer say that they love me.  Or ask if they could lick me.  Kids are so honest."  I smiled, still embarrased, and answered "Yeah.  Honest and loud.  That is my kids."

Don't Ever Agree To Be The Room Mom. EVER.

So I got called lazy by a total stranger today and it took everything I had NOT to totally go off on her Martha Stewart little butt.  Maybe I should fill in the whole story:
Back in October, I got a rather frantic call from the "Head Room Mom" at my kid's school.  She needed someone to step up and be the room mom for my son's 3rd grade class.  She had already called me the month before and I had politely refused -- I had offered to help in any way that I could but I have 4 kids, and RUNNING a class party is hard enough without having to keep up with the 2 and 4 year old that I would have in tow at all times.  This time, after about a 2 hour conversation, she had convinced me that it was "super-easy" and that "everything is practically done for you" since there are only 2 parties allowed in the class each year, so I reluctantly accepted and waited for my folder to arrive with all of the information.  I never got a folder. 
I had kind of forgotten about it, what with trying to raise 4 kids and having a husband who is working 2nd shift...oh, and having my gall bladder removed in the beginning of December, which left me throwing up for 6 days after surgery.  So after my surgery when I finally start feeling somewhat human again, I remember that "Crap, I have to plan the 'Holiday Party' for William's class" and realize that I never got the stupid folder with all of the "super-easy" info and stuff that is "already done for me" in it.  Now, in hind-sight, I probably should have called the school and found out who the "Head Room Mom" was again (since I couldn't even remember her name), and tried to get her phone number so that I could have called her and asked her whatever happened to the magic folder.  But I didn't.  I thought "Hey, I have a degree in English, its a letter saying 'There's a party.  Send Chips,' so how hard can it be?"  So I took a whole five or six minutes to whip out a letter that said basically that and to ask the parents to send in a wrapped ornament to do an ornament exchange ($5 limit).  I hopped in the car and took it to the school office and left it to be copied and given to the teacher to pass out on a Tuesday afternoon before the party 9 days later on the following Thursday.  The office staff said that they would run the copies as soon as it was approved and that they would call me if there was a problem.  I never got a call. But Friday night, I got an email from that Head Room Mom letting me know that the letter had not gone out.  The office staff had given it to the Assistant Principle, who had given it to the Principle, who had contacted the PTA President, who had called the Head Room Mom -- this process apparently took 3 days.  The problem was that it wasn't the "pre-approved" letter that was supposed to come in the fabled "So-Easy-A-Caveman-Can-Do-It Room Mom Folder" that I never got.  I was not allowed to tell the parents to send a $5 ornament -- I was supposed to say "new or gently used" in case some of the parents didn't have the money for such things.  I thought that was ridiculous since I sure wasn't asking for "new or gently" used paper plates, napkins, chips or drinks. I was pissed.  So by the time I found out about it, it was too late to send any letter out, and I got to do the entire party by myself.  We had snacks, candy, and a goodie bag to take home and the entire party cost me over $100.  We did not have a craft or a game.  I was the only parent who showed up even though the teacher had sent home a note the day before the party inviting everyone to attend.  The kids had a great time and there was almost no left over food.  I thought that I pretty much rocked.
Well, the only other party allowed during the school year is Valentine's Day.  (First of all, I find this 2 party rule completely asinine.  There should be AT LEAST 5 parties a year for elementary school -- Halloween, Christmas, Valentine's Day, Easter, and End of Year.)  So it is time to once again to plan for the party.  After talking it over with William's teacher, we decided to bend the rules a little and ask a few parents to contribute money to buy pizza.  I finally got the Golden Folder and was shocked by how little it actually contained.  There are 21 kids in my son's class and only 6 parents had provided emails or phone numbers and I was one of those.  So I sent an email to the 5 remaining parents asking them to send in $5 each as their contribution to the party to cover the cost of the pizzas.  One email came back as undeliverable, and the same person's phone number was no longer valid.  I got 2 responses of "What a great idea" and then....then I got the phone call from Mrs. Polly Perfect.
She introduced herself as "so-and-so's Mom" and then proceeded to go on a self-praising tangent about how she was the room mom for her youngest daughter's class and what a great job she had done and how she would be happy to share some of her tips and advice with me.  Now, those of you who know me, know that I was mildly amused by this at this point, and I tried to indulge her fantasy that things are always sunshine and rainbows where our kids are concerned for just a little while longer.  She then asked me what kind of game and craft I was planning for the Valentine's Day party and there was an audible gasp when I told her that we weren't planning on having one.  I explained that the teacher and I had discussed it and that we had decided that it would be easier to just get the pizzas, drinks, chips and maybe some cupcakes and let the kids socialize for the 45 minutes allotted for the party.  Her response?  Well she said "I just don't think that it is fair to the kids to deprive them of these fun activities when they only get 2 parties a year just because you are too lazy to organize them. I was really pretty upset that there was no craft for the party at Christmas. I was sure that so-and-so would be bringing home an ornament or something that they had made in class. I had my younger child's class make ornaments as part of their party and they absolutely loved it and had a great time."  Through gritted teeth, I explained what had happened with the Holiday party -- that I had done the entire thing by myself with 2 kids in tow 2 1/2 weeks after surgery and that it cost me over $100 to do so.  Her response to that was that it could have been done cheaper -- she had done her younger child's party all by herself "as a gift to the parents in the class" and only spent about $60 WITH a craft and a game.  With white knuckles in a death grip on the phone to control my annoyance at Little Miss Perfect, I told her that the teacher doesn't want a game.  She doesn't want a craft.  She wants pizza and snacks.  Period.  She went on to pontificate about how our children deserve more from us than 45 minutes of eating junk food and that they should be allowed to make memories during these parties.  I was obviously dealing with Rainbow Brite.  Her kids must be perfect angels who burp sunshine and poop Skittles.  I mean, I don't know about any of you, but I really do not remember ONE holiday party that I had in elementary school.  I do not remember the food, or what we did, or how many games and crafts we had -- nothing.  I remember that we had parties and they were fun and relaxed and no one was trying to make sure that we finished our craft before we got to eat, or finished eating so that we could play some stupid game. 
I finally had to cut into this woman's delusion by telling her that I had to respect what the teacher wanted and that was food and nothing else.  I thanked her for her time and (ahem) "advice" and asked again if she would be willing to send in the $5 for the pizza.  She said that she would but that she wanted to make sure that the kids had a "good" goodie-bag to take home from the party this time and so she would be doing those as well.  Ignoring the obvious dig at the goodie-bags I had provided for the Christmas party, I told her that would be wonderful, relieved that I could check that off of my list.  She told me that she would love to meet me in person and would do her best to finish up her younger child's party so that she could get to the classroom and meet me on Valentine's Day. She will surely come floating in on a cloud of pixie dust with forest animals in her wake, birds singing around her head, flowers will litter her path and the room will get brighter by her mere presence.   I. Can't. Wait.

Thanksgiving 2010

It’s the day before Thanksgiving and its 80 degrees


I’m wearing a T-shirt, flip-flops, and capris

I’ve broken a dish, I’ve burned my hand

But the dinner is coming along just as planned

My kitchen is full of the scents of Thanksgiving

My house could be featured in Southern Living

The Turkey is buttered and seasoned and cooling

The thought of it all sets my mouth to drooling

Friends and family will soon come to the table

To eat and to eat ‘til they’re no longer able

When the table is cleared and the dishes are done

And the kids are outside to play, scream, and run

We’ll turn our attention to the Black Friday Ads

Making out lists for our kids, moms, and dads

Some will lie back and soon they’ll be snoozing

While others will talk about whose team will be losing

And when the guests head out to go back to their houses

And we’re left all alone with our kids and our spouses

We’ll clean up the kids and get them into their beds

With thoughts about Christmas now in our heads

Thanksgiving’s a time that I forever will treasure

My blessings have been too many to measure

I’ve got 4 great kids and a husband I love

Great family and friends who were sent from above

Warm clothes and a home which is much more than most

Of my blessings on Earth, I truly can boast

I’m thankful for family, for friends and much more

And my God has more treasures for me in store

The Lord has provided His mercy and grace

And no earthly blessings could dare take His place

So tomorrow when gathered with family and friends

While reflecting on all of your life’s dividends

Remember to thank the Lord for his love

And for all of the gifts on this Earth and above

HAPPY THANKSGIVING EVERYONE!!!

30 Days of Thankful

Alot of my friends have been doing this wonderful thing on Facebook where they post what they are thankful for for 30 days straight. I wanted to do it too, but I am just now getting around to it, and I am horrible about consistency so here are my 30 Days of Thankful all in one list:




1) I am thankful that I have a God who is merciful and forgiving and loves me even though I fall short daily.

2) I am thankful for my husband who works a job he dislikes, on crazy shifts, including many weekends, so that I can stay home with our kids.

3) I am thankful for my 4 beautiful, smart, hilarious kids who drive me to the brink of insanity and keep me grounded all the time.

4) I am thankful for loving parents who try to help and support me anyway that they can, even when it is to tell me I am wrong.

5) I am thankful for truly good friends -- the ones I see nearly everyday, the ones I see a few times a year, and even the ones that I never see anymore.

6) I am thankful for all of the teachers who have impacted my life. There are the traditional teachers, and there are the teachers who impacted me just by being in my life.

7) I am thankful for a roof over my head, clothes in my closet, food in my fridge, and a car to get around in.

8) I am thankful for the soldiers -- both past and present -- who defend my rights to have all of the above and to do with it whatever I want.

9) I am thankful for my country. Despite all of the flaws in our government and the more obvious flaws in our politicians, it is still the BEST country in the world.

10) I am thankful for family -- my extended family is absolutely wonderful (and a little crazy).

11) I am thankful for Facebook -- I have reconnected with so many people from my past and it has been a great joy to hear what has happened in their lives over the past 10, 20 or in rare cases 30 years!

12) I am thankful for coffee -- to God for creating it, to the man who discovered it, to the genius who decided to roast it and pour hot water over it...

13) I am thankful for my digital camera. I cannot literally freeze time and keep my kids from growing up, but with it I am able to hold onto those moments.

14) I am thankful for TV -- there are days that I just need to escape into an alternate universe for an hour or so and there are many choices on TV (if I can locate my remote).

13) I am thankful for my DVR -- there is rarely a time in my day that I can sit down and watch TV uninterrupted for even 10 minutes, so being able to record, rewind, fast-forward through commercials, etc. is a true blessing.

14) I am thankful that I can cook. I have eaten at enough people's houses to know that this is actually not as common as one might think.

15) I am thankful for my health and the health of my family. I pray daily for those who do not have this blessing.

16) I am thankful for electricity. I am not the pioneer type.

17) I am thankful for my cell phone and I honestly do not know how I ever lived without one.

18) I am thankful for Nick Jr. -- the only kids network that airs shows buffered by songs, dances, etc. and NOT by commercials for the latest Lelly Kelly Shoe ad or Bendaroos or any of the myriad other craptastic things that I will not buy for my kids.

19) I am thankful for disposable diapers. I know that it isn't very environmentally conscious of me, but I don't care (refer to number 16).

20) I am thankful for sippy cups that actually don't leak.

21) I am thankful for easily accessible carpet cleaners for sippy cups that DO leak.

22) I am thankful for the Library. I devour books, and if I had to pay anywhere from $7 to $35 for all of the books that I read I would be even more broke than I am now.

23) I am thankful for grocery stores. If I had to make, grow, hunt, or otherwise obtain the food that my family of 6 consumes in a single week, we'd probably have all died of starvation years ago.

24) I am thankful for consignment stores. Not because they buy my "gently used items at a fair price" (because they don't -- they cheat me), but because I can buy their gently used items at a fair price.

25) I am thankful for college football. It allows an outlet for pent up aggression for 4 months out of the year. (War Eagle)

26) I am thankful for soap, shampoo, and deodorant. I know that this one might seem a little weird, but think about what we would endure without them.

27) I am thankful for seat belts and car seats and airbags and the fact that I have not had an accident where I had to rely on them to save me or my family.

28) I am thankful for nature. I may not like to be immersed in it, but I do admire it from a distance...

29) I am thankful for heat and air conditioning -- I am very fickle when it comes to body temperature and I often have the heat on in the morning and the air on by noon.

30) I am thankful for everything and everyone in my life. I tried to imagine as I went through my day "How hard would this be if I didn't have 'X' to do it with?" and I realized that I am one very blessed individual.



And there is my list. All 30 days of Thankfulness. I may have done this all at once, but I really do thank God for everyone of these things almost daily.  If I had done it daily, I am certain that it probably would have been more cynical and I am positive that it would have been more focused on what was going on that day -- something about the kids, of my husband, or my dog.  But this is a better reflection of the things I am most thankful for.  Take a moment (or two) to reflect on what you are most thankful for, and have a wonderful and blessed Thanksgiving!

Let Us Stand and Sing....

One Sunday at church, I had one of those parenting moments. This was before Jackson and before we moved here to Texas. It was Gary’s week to help serve communion, so I picked the kids up from their classes and went to sit down. Lorelei had entered her "noisy" stage -- she would sing and talk all the time as she had just recently discovered that she could, so I opted for the "cry-room". If you are not familiar with this concept, it is a glass fronted room in the back of the auditorium where you are meant to “train” your children how to behave in church.


The problems started when the kids realized that Daddy was not going to be sitting with us until the sermon started and got worse when they realized that they weren't going to be sitting in "our pew”. Then they thought that since we were in the cry-room, they could run around and make noise. Lorelei was getting increasingly hungry and therefore fussy. So picture me holding and trying to calm and pacify Lorelei, snapping my fingers at the other two to sit down and behave while they are running in different directions all over the room. Finally, communion is over and the sermon is about to start, so here comes Daddy. As soon as he walks in, I leave to go feed Lorelei in the nursery (I DO have a little bit of modesty left, I was not going to breastfeed IN church.) I was gone maybe 15-20 minutes. I missed the first half of the sermon. When I get back with Lorelei, my husband immediately says "They want you to take them to the bathroom." So I pass off Lorelei to him and head out with the other two. As soon as we get out of the cry room they start running -- one to the left and one to the right. I finally wrangle them into the bathroom, where they fight over the stall -- now, there are probably about 12 stalls in this bathroom, but my kids want to use the exact same one. I tried to be the good mother and explain that all of the toilets were the same and that it didn't matter which one they used but we finally went with Isabella gets to go first because she is younger and might pee on herself. Potty issues solved, we proceeded to the sink to wash our hands -- 4 sinks, 1 argument over who gets to go first. Since Isabella got to pee first, William got to wash up first. Then they wanted lotion, since the good ladies of my congregation had kindly supplied the lotion, I gave them each a squirt. While I was washing MY hands, I turn around to see Isabella using her lotion to paint the full-length mirror on the door. I take some towels to try to clean it up, but only end up making it worse. So now we are finally ready to go back to sit down. Once again, I open the bathroom door and they are off like a shot across the lobby; giggling and squealing all of the way. Trying to maintain at least the "illusion" of control, I rush to catch them and steer them into the cry-room and sit down -- just in time to hear the last two words of the sermon and stand for the closing song.

As funny as that may all be, the ironic part came when we got into the car and my husband told me that the sermon was entitled "Discipline in The Christian Home." Wow.