Saturday

It started with Freddy rushing up from the basement insisting that he saw a weasel.

The "weasel" quickly turned into a "monster", and a plan was hatched to capture it.

Volunteers came forward (Sebastien, Freddy, Isabelle), and supplies (flashlights, plastic bags, gas mask, protective head gear, electrocution device aka "the secret weapon") were gathered.

A complete search of the basement was made rapidly, but not quietly.

The crew returned, unharmed, in posession of an alarming piece of evidence: a bone. It was declared to be a finger bone and several theories were put forward, the most interesting being that it was roadkill. The roadkill theory was scrapped because no one could remember hearing trucks tearing through the basement recently.

A prime suspect soon surfaced: Calvin. The evidence: Calvin's friend Benjamin hasn't been seen for weeks. He wasn't at bowling today or last week or the week before. And Calvin owns a sword.

As I type the story is being broadcast on a new radio station that originates in our living room. Several eye witnesses have been interviewed. Calvin is still maintaining his innocence, and the finger bone looks suspiciously similar to a chicken bone.

Spring

Freddy: The best thing to do, if you want to mail phlegm in an envelope, is to NOT put on a return address!


I am thanking the good Lord that spring is here because we have been spending way too much time indoors. Idle hands...

Dinner

Eleven days of vegetarian dinners:

Vegetable soup, hot artichoke dip & crackers, corn muffins.

Chickpea/couscous/mango Morrocan stew.

Tortellini, salad.

Egg roll, rice, broccoli.

Spinich soup, zucchini/olive/cheddar bread, quesadillas.

Leek/potato gratin, oriental slaw. (St Patrick's Day.)

Broccoli quiche, salad.

Guacamole, quesadillas, refried beans.

Cabbage rolls, raw vegies.

Artichoke alfredo pasta, salad.

Cauliflower/cheddar soup, doubled eggs.

Grades

The youngsters brought home their first report cards ever today...

Well, the girls have stated that their grades are private. Isabelle's are semi-private. She will let me say that out of 13 classes, she got 9 A's and 6 of those had little plus signs after them.

Lucie's grades are totally private...but I will divulge that with her grades I can spell the word "cab" but not the words "dab" or "fab". Pretty fab, I say! We are totally pleased!

Calvin is off on a church trip, so he can't tell me that his grades are private. Out of 11 classes, there are 11 A's. Four of those have little plus signs after them.

Freddy's report card is full of S's and P's and X's. He has 77 grades! The S's (satisfactory) and P's (progressing) are even, with a big handful of X's (area of concern) thrown in. The section that makes me laugh is the religion section: only P's. His religious knowledge is not satisfactory for a 7 yr old. This is Freddy! I read to him from a children's Bible every single day. He runs over to pray for me when I am hurting. He will state that he loves God and Jesus first and then Maman (with everyone else coming in far behind). He wanted to buy the synthesizer at the music store because it would make great organ music for home-church. Only P's.

Uncle Ken

I was applying cream to Freddy's dry, cracked hands where the harsh, anti-bacterial school soap is eating away at his skin...

Freddy: If the cracks get bigger, will I be able to see my bones?

Susan: No. There is a lot of tissue between your skin and your bones.

Freddy: Oh.

Susan: Once, when Uncle Ken was a boy, he cut his hand so deep that the bones poked out. Auntie Rosie saw them and couldn't believe how white they were!

Freddy: Uncle Ken? Isn't he the one that cracked his head?

Susan: Yes. And the one that ran over his foot with the lawn-mower and the one that put his hand on a hot stove and burned it badly.

Freddy: And isn't he the one that put a key into an outlet?

Susan: Yes.

Freddy: Why did he do all that?

Susan: I don't know. We should ask him.

Why, Ken? Why?

Saturday morn

5:30 AM: Wake up freezing. Get up and turn on the auxiliary heat because boy forgot to put wood on the fire.

6:30 AM: Awaken to boy telling me that it is time to get up because of the time change. This makes no sense. Even if the time change happened on Saturday morn instead of Sunday morn, one doesn't need an hour to get ready for a drive to the bowling alley.

6:45-7:00 AM: Awaken twice to different boy wanting to show me magic tricks. How about a little magical sleeping in? Some magical Saturday morning cartoons would have helped. Alas, no TV.

7:15 AM: Awaken to girl requesting permission to use computer. Can't anybody see that my eyes are closed, hear that I am snoring???

7:45 AM: Awaken to girl exhorting me to get to the kitchen and tell that other child to stop drinking juice while chewing cereal at the same time.

8:20 AM: Get up to take boy to bowling. Notice living room floor is covered with trash and solar energy science kit. Notice dog puke in laundry room. Notice that single parenting is the pits, especially on Saturday mornings.

God cares

Yep, He does. He cares about it all: everything that you suffer through, delight in, hope, dream, and yearn for. I know because I have experienced it.

Our friends Steve and Ginny wrote a book about experiencing God's personal care, "the signs of God's personal intervention in my life and the lives of people I knew."

If you or someone that you know has any doubts that God is listening to you, that He cares about every detail, and that Jesus died for YOU, send me an email (lazysusie@gmail.com), and I'll send you the book. Steve and Ginny aren't any more precious to God than the rest of us. He loves us all and wants us all to follow Him, know Him, and love Him.

(A note: I'm not giving away just one book; I'll send a book to whomever requests one. Surely I can get a bulk discount!)

Balded

Daughter #1: Would you let me chop this much of my hair off and go to school?

Mother: Sure.

Daughter #1: Just this chunk, on this side? Really? You would?

Mother: Sure. It's your hair. If that is the style that you want, of course I would let you.

Daughter #2: Would you let me get balded?

Mother: Sure. That's an odd style for a little girl, but I would let you. It's your hair!

This is what happens when a former punker grows up and has children. The questions about nose rings and lip rings and tattoos were not answered so agreeably. We didn't do that in the late 80's; it was all about hair back then.

Who's Who

Today Isabelle received a letter informing her that she is being considered for the latest edition of Who's Who Among Professional and Executive Women.

I was pretty sure that it was because I used her name when I ordered Sebastien Forbes magazine. I was ordering Isabelle Cat Fancy magazine for her birthday, and it was easier to order both mags under one name.

But, as she tells me, that is not the case. She is being considered for this honor because she operates a bank, a post office, a library, and a newspaper out of her bedroom.

Saturday

Sebastien left me to go to work today. He took Calvin to bowling (failing to get the $12 taxi fee out of him) and then only stopped by home to pick up his camera battery charger. He and his work buddies are tying ribbons to an airplane and then flying around taking movies of it. Maybe they figure if we can't have the fastest airplanes, we'll have the prettiest ones.

I am at home where the house is trashed with laundry, toys, and mud everywhere. Freddy has a friend over and they are playing school with Isabelle. After going to school full-time all week they are spending their Saturday playing it. They even had to line up in the kitchen to pick up their lunch trays.