Paint, Pustules and Prayer

I've been under the false impression that in order to make blogging worth it, each and every post had to be some sort of literary masterpiece. Since I'm not in the frame of mind for such dabblings (or babblings) I have instead chosen NOT to blog much.

I guess I forgot that this blog was originally put together so that our families and close friends could enjoy the doings and going ons of our growing family and as a sorts of "family journal". 

For those of you who are neither family nor "close" friends, keep that thought in mind as today I "dazzle" you with two very boring updates (that only a mother could love) and one rather silly story.

First, I finally took the plunge and painted our living room.

I've been itching to do it since the day we moved in but was delayed by actually closing on the house, and then a miscarriage, and then life as it generally is.  At the beginning of the summer I didn't quite make it to Home Depot's memorial day paint sale.  I was rather disappointed.  Now I would have to pay full price for paint because there was NO way I was going to wait until Labor day for their next paint sale.  Fast forward several months.  Let's just say I have a rebate coming in the mail.

Here is a before shot (which I remembered to do only after I had taped off):

 and the afters (gives a whole new meaning to accent wall, yes?):

 Now I'm sure most people would have waited to take after shots until they had cleaned up, put the furniture back, and re-decorated.  Not me.  Because I have only accomplished the first two.  Still working on the putting things back on the walls.  Give me a break.  It's only been a couple of weeks now.  :)

On another note the dreaded hand, foot and mouth disease has come to visit us. 

Kian's poor face.  If you think this looks bad you should see his sad bottom.  I did restrain from taking a picture of it and posting it here.  That would just be bad on several levels but you can take my word for it.  It's SO SAD!

Looking back, I seem to recall when Gabe had it, and again when Cael did, their cases were very similar to Kians.  My kids have gotten off fairly easy. I've seen pictures online.  This is nothing.

As you can see he's as happy as can be.  No worse for the ware.

Which is where the funny story comes in.

Yesterday as we were sitting down to dinner it was my turn to pray.  I began with several things we were grateful for, one of which being the ease our children had seen throughout this particular sickness (Gabe also got a fever and sore throat...no spots) and thanked Heavenly Father that Kian was so happy despite the discomfort and pain he must be in.  I tried to go on but Kian, who had obviously been actually listening to the words of the prayer (which caught me completely by surprise...I mean he's only 2), so rudely interrupts my prayer, by yelling out, "I NOT HAPPY!!!!!", in his loudest, grumpiest voice ever.

A few snickers here and there from the older boys but I shrugged it off and tried to continue.

Again, "I NOT HAPPY."  (snicker, snicker in the background)

I look at Rob, who was obviously waiting for my cue.  I seized the moment, setting aside my usual "must set an exceptional example" way of thinking and burst out laughing.  That set Rob off and soon we were all laughing loud and clear.  Except Kian....who was still yelling, "I NOT HAPPY."

After a few seconds of truly delightful lightheartedness (of which we do NOT see a lot of), I quieted things down and quickly finished the prayer.

Our night continued as usual, except with an air of contentedness we hadn't felt around here in a long time.  It was awesome!

So, I thank you, Mr. Golden Locks for adding a bit of lightness into our lives.  You truly are a blessing from God.  The glue that has bound our broken family back together.

I love you dearly....

even if the sight of you kinda grosses me out right now.  :) 

 

"But I'm trying...."

Tonight Cael got a nasty bump on his eyebrow and had quite the cry about it.  In my efforts to console him, I reminded him that I knew just how it felt.  "Remember the story I told you about when I got hurt there and had to get stitches." (my older brother Andrew threw a tin can at my head and it sliced open my brow.  He also pushed me off the bathroom counter causing my chin to split open...more stitches...but that's another story).

Apparently the mention of this story caused Isaac some serious concern.  He followed me with haste as I exited the room.

With a great look of hurt Isaac asked, "Mom.  Why was Uncle Andrew so mean to you?"

To which I replied, "Well...why are you mean to your brothers sometimes?"

As I go on to explain that siblings just get frustrated with each and hurt each other, etc, Isaac interrupts to answer my previous question.

"But, I'm not."  (frowning)  "I'm trying to do what is right.  I'm trying to be like Jesus."

His husky little voice was pleading for me to understand.

I was such a proud mama at that moment. 

Yes...he IS trying.  He's been praying for help every night to do just those things.

And so I reassured him...

"You are right.  You are trying hard, aren't you?"

and then taught him a small lesson about repentance and forgiveness...

"And I think Uncle Andrew was trying too.  Sometimes, even when we are trying, we still mess up.  Then we need to say we are sorry and try to do better."

He looked mighty relieved.  "Okay!" he says.

And off he went.

What a truly sweet (even if he is my most naughty) boy.