Category Archives: Lord

What kind of question was THAT?

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Contemplate your road

Earlier in the week my friend Michele asked my middle OS a question. She did this in front of me and it wasn’t the sort of question most well-behaved women pose…


Not only was the question unusual but so were Aaron’s and my reaction. 

Ok, so this was her question –

“Aaron, did you write your obituary today?”

What would you think if your bestie asked your kid that question?

With nary a hint of awkwardness, Aaron smiled and said that yes, he had indeed written his obituary. It was almost as if she had asked my OS if he was going to play his guitar, nothing shocking entered his response.

And if it’s possible to be an outside observer of yourself, I was surprised by my own reaction to that question. I didn’t smack Michele upside the head nor did I burst into tears, something I can do with the greatest of ease. I just listened to their verbal exchange.

How strange it is that two of my three OS’s have written their obituaries. How peculiar that I am telling you. How not surprising that I am NOW crying as I continue to type this post. 

During their junior years in high school, it has been a standard assignment at our sons’ school. In British Literature class, students  pen their own obituary. Neither of my OS would have set out to do this independently but I’m glad they did. Trust me, you learn a lot about your kids with this type of homework.

So by now, you’re wondering, “Well, what did they write? What did you learn?”

Nate’s senior pic 2008
Nate was 85 and he died on a Thursday after saving his grandson from oncoming traffic. (Ok, I find that part funny, I mean, how old is his grandson???) “Nathan lived an exciting life that was marked by service to his country and service to the Lord.” My OS achieved a measure of political stature in his lifetime and was well respected in his community. He was married and had a quiver of children.

Aaron was a nonogenerian, just three years shy of being 100. He enjoyed a long marriage and was blessed with six kids, 17 grandkids and ten great-grandkids. He had been a pastor for 41 years.

I love that face. I love that boy. 
Oh how I long for these to be their true stories. Long lives, fruitful, productive, reproductive men who loved their families and the Lord. My heart’s cry is for them to breathe their last completely satisfied with what they gave to others, praising God for every page in their book of life. And while the thought of them actually having an obituary is more than this mama can handle right now, I appreciate the exercise of them consciously thinking about how they are living. 



In my next blog post, I am going to share with you my obituary. It is of a different sort and I’ve been waiting for the right time to put it out there. Since I strive to be honest and don’t want to string it along just in the hopes of getting a few more “hits” on my blog, I do not have a terminal disease. 


Have you ever thought about your children’s legacy? How do you think you would react to this assignment? I’d love to hear!

Diagnosis

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Results are in and the diagnosis is status migrainosus. I’m not clapping for joy but I’m praising the Lord we aren’t dealing with a brain tumor. My father died of brain cancer and I’d be lying if I said that a pervasive fear of those words hadn’t swept over me the last week.


Aaron was not thrilled to learn that he might be out of school for another 2-3 more weeks. As we begin this new medicine protocol, I pray he can return to school sooner. My middle OS has started a course of steroids and although we have been getting along famously, I suspect that prednisone is going to jeopardize that a bit. 

what a beautiful sight seeing Aaron upright and being goofy!

Today we ventured out for sushi. My OS has lost weight since falling ill and if that boy wanted sushi and our new budget could handle it, for goodness’ sake, he was going to get sushi. 


We, well, at least me, I take so much for granted. Lord, forgive me for the times when I just assume my kids are going to remain healthy. I overlook that my OSs will rebound from an illness and don’t always recognize that as a true blessing from you. Father, I’m sorry for all the times when I don’t give you praise for my own body functioning as it should.


We have gone from this….

wow, i hate this picture

to this…

Aaron + food = optimism
Confucious say contemplation over a fortune cookie is better than contemplation over a sick child

















He still is gaunt and not 100% but I see glimpses of my boy returning. When he is back to his “normal” self, here is how we’re going to celebrate.

feel free to borrow this recipe for your next celebration

Nothing says fiesta more than Party Lentil Soup, right?


Thank you gentle readers for your support and prayers!


aaron’s mom

The soul of MY soup

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“To possess a cook who makes perfect soups is to possess a jewel of great price. 
A woman who cannot make soup 
should not be allowed to marry.”

P. Mortan Shand, A Book of Food, 1928
Um, that seems a little harsh but when the going gets tough, I do what most women do…
I make vegetable broth. 

This is some serious broth action


As a foodie and mama of three OS, it’s my attempt, I guess, to put things together and make something good. Into the kettle, I put celery, scallions, garlic, half a red onion, a tomato and two cooked potatoes that were lounging in the refrigerator doing nothing. I then threw in some radish leaves, carrots, a stalk of frozen corn I bought in the summer at the farmers’ market. Half a red pepper, a handful of frozen leeks, kosher salt, bay leaf and spices bubble and mix with the other ingredients. The amber broth is flavorful. I have a sick child upstairs, I feel so confused. But this homemade broth imbues a sense of peace and accomplishment within me.

Dramatic, slightly forced vegetable broth smile



In some ways, I think this is like the Scripture found in

Romans 8:28 (English Standard Version)


And we know that for those who love God all things work together for good, for those who are called according to his purpose.
Aaron is eating next to nothing. He needs nutrition and hydration. I picture my OS sipping on this broth. Not sure that’s going to happen but wow, if it did, that would be the best. I’d feel like I did something significant. 
better than the boxed stuff, fo’ shur!
God is going to use this trial in our lives. He is more resourceful than I’ll ever be. My simple efforts at gathering things together to make a hearty broth pale to what Jesus does with our lives. He uses ALL things together for good for those who believe in Him. I believe, Lord. Aaron believes too. Let it be. 

When the answer is "No"

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The post I wanted to share was that a very lovely Salvadorena was coming to our house for Thanksgiving. I had grand words to share with you in the spirit of keeping this sweet fairytale going. 


But sometimes God has a different answer. Since I believe the Lord is the Author of Life, He is writing this story. So my optimistic post has changed. 


Ergh. It would have been a ridiculously happy post but as of now, the Lord has seen fit to not allow Lu’s visa to be approved. 


We are really disappointed but probably the most bummed guy in all of North America happens to be my OS…
It’s times like these where the Scripture about giving thanks in all things is put to the test. 

“Be joyful always; pray continually; give thanks in all circumstances, for this is God’s will for you in Christ Jesus.” 
1 Thessalonians 5:16-18

The challenge is how do I say thanks to God when I don’t like His answer? How do I say “yes Lord” when I have a son who had his heart set on the Almighty rubber-stamping his lovesick request with a big giant, “Sure Nate!” Of course, I realize there are bigger requests of a far more dire nature. Here are three families that are leaning on Jesus with each passing day. Ella’s family. Lily’s family. Adam’s wife and daughter. If I were God, I would certainly have triaged the prayer for Lu to get a visa and thought I was too busy with more important things than to concern myself with something so small when compared with these folks.  

But I’m not God. He doesn’t work like me and that incidentally is a good thing! 😉



“For my thoughts are not your thoughts, neither are your ways my ways,” declares the LORD.
 “As the heavens are higher than the earth, so are my ways higher than your ways and my thoughts than your thoughts.” Isaiah 55:8-9



I know the Lord heard us praying for Lu to come to visit even if it appears His answer is no. He didn’t ignore our request, He just gave it a different reply. My OS and I must rejoice that we serve a God who recognizes all prayers. I find comfort that Jesus doesn’t tell me or my OS that He doesn’t have time to listen to us. What an honor to trust and know with certainty that He hears my cries. Whether I’m in the tub, sitting at church or in my prayer closet, God inclines His ear to undeserving me. As a follower of Christ, I have constant access to the Shepherd who hears the cries of his sheep. 
Unless things change and the Lord intercedes in a big way, we will all resign ourselves to Lu not gracing our table this year. We’ll make some pumpkin pie and I’ll take some pictures and pretend that she ate a slice. Yeah, it won’t be the same but we will still give thanks even if we all have a little tear in our eyes. 



Charming, very charming

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What a sweet love story!

It was BIG news in our family when Nate fell in love.

The phone lines were abuzz as I talked to my mom at least every day giving her the latest update.

We brainstormed, conferred, analyzed, considered, prayed, worried, imagined and everything else a mom and grandma could do when the oldest OS/grandson is smitten.

Here’s how those conversations often went:

Me: “Mom, Nate REALLY likes Lu.”
My mom: “Wow!”
Me: “Mom, he’s using the ‘L’ word with her!”
My mom: “Wow!”
Me: “What should I do, Mom? I mean, he’s using the ‘L’ word!”
My mom: “Exactly what ‘L’ word is he using?”
Me: “Come on, Mom, really? LOVE!!!”

You get the idea. It was fun musing what was going to happen next and soon my sister Denise joined in on the fun.

She has a close relationship with Nate and when he was home for a visit, he stopped by her house for dinner.

Rachel squeals, “Love is in the air!”

After playing with his cousins around and holding the baby Rachel, Denise had a heart to heart conversation with Nate.

I appreciate my sister speaking truthfully to my OS about sensitive issues and reinforcing the solid Biblical principles we endorse in our family. I can always count on her.

As a bonus this time, Denise’s romantic side offered Nate even more.  She suggested Nate give Lu some jewelry. Is there any girl in the world who doesn’t like jewelry?

Denise didn’t suggest this

A stunning gold retainer necklace!

or anything gross like this.

But if Lu wanted a mouthguard necklace, Ike has a few he could donate!

Nor did Denise recommend a trinket like this.

It’s just wayyyyy too personal, wouldn’t you agree?
A chewed piece of gum necklace = ew.

Denise suggested something pretty and romantic, a gift similar to the one she received from her husband many years ago.

This….


a sliver charm bracelet.

The first one I received when I was 16 years old.

I can look at each charm and tell a story about every one. For example, as a teenager I received a typewriter charm for my love of writing.

I have charms from at least five different countries. While on our 20th anniversary celebration to Maine, the Hubs got me a lobster net charm.

West Point charm

And my OS gave me a West Point charm which I cherish. I don’t wear the bracelets very often but I love to look at them and remember.

Once Nate decided to buy Lu a bracelet, I had the privilege of going with him to shop for the bracelet. He wanted my opinion and I must say I jumped at the chance. We went to a small, locally owned jewelry shop and he found a very sweet bracelet that we agreed would look so pretty on her.

Then, while on a trip to visit family in Greenville, SC, Nate found a mustard seed charm.

Nate and Lu trust in the Lord and believe that if this is going to work, they need to have the faith of a mustard seed and rely completely on His will in their relationship.

The final charm my OS wanted for Lu was a plane which I thought was very romantic.
In an effort to help, Aaron, Ike and I went shopping with him. We went to at least ten different stores to find the right plane charm.

Btw, it is not easy to find an airplane charm. We found cheap airplane charms for a little girl’s bracelet and other travel-related charms but Nate wanted nothing to do with them. He wasn’t going to settle. Finally after dashing around the mall, just as the store was closing, he found it. As patient as Nate was in waiting for the right girl, he was equally resolute in finding the perfect charm, not settling for anything but the best. 

The little charm bracelet traveled to El Salvador tucked safely in his backpack. Lu’s father had given their relationship his approval and it was their second night out as an official bf/gf type thing.

They were sitting outside of a restaurant, a tropical breeze swayed through the air. Nate presented her with a mushy card, the contents written therein have yet to be shared with me (which I totally DON’T understand!) 😉 but I do know how beautiful Nate’s sentiments can be and I’m only his mom. It must have been super mushy. He then handed her the rectangular box and she opened it.

According to my OS, Lu had a “positive reaction” and that’s all I have been told.  I have asked, oh, trust me, if you know me, I have asked. I have a nasty family reputation of asking too many questions. Hey, I have a major in journalism, it’s my nature. Currently “lips are sealed.” Waa. Perhaps a sushi lunch with my OS will pry it out of him. Perhaps not.

The one thing I know is that a lovely young lady in Central America now has a delicate, silver bauble to remind her that she is loved by a really awesome oliveshoot who is thinking of her constantly.

More soon!

How sweet the sound

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This post is to the mentally handicapped middle school girl that I chased around in the playground many years ago.



Dear Rita, (not her real name)


I am so sorry.


I could up offer a lengthy list of flimsy excuses but honestly they don’t matter. I hurt you and that was wrong and I knew it. I deeply regret my actions. I called you mean, embarrassing names in an effort to disguise my own pain and awkwardness. I.am.sorry.


——–
As a mother, I have told my children about victorious moments when they would have been proud of me. I like to tell them about the times when I stuck up for the little guy, the weird kid or the janitor my classmates teased and threw pennies at in the cafeteria. Those stories make me look good.


But I have also confessed a few shameful times when I mocked an innocent person, betrayed a confidence, acted like a hypocrite. The incident with Rita is one of those tormenting times that I have tried to use for good while instructing my own OS. At a coffee shop last year, I told my precious middle OS about some experiences I went through in the hopes that he will never follow in some of my footsteps. It was strange to ask Aaron to forgive me for things I did before he was even born but the sweetest sounds came from his deep voice at the Caribou Coffee which is now my favorite place of redemption and caffeine. “Oh, Mama, I forgive you,” as he clutched his hand in mine.



Last night was the last meeting for Teen Community Bible Study (Teen CBS). We have spent over 30 weeks with middle and high school youth and I have had the pleasure of working with 6th-8th grade girls. We have studied God’s Word, reviewed lessons and enjoyed getting to know each other. Each one of the girls has a permanent place in my heart. Spending time with these girls made me fondly recall the girls I met while on a mission trip to Lima, Peru. Though that was several years ago, I still keep in touch with many of them. Witnessing young people grow in their faith is a privilege, seeing them burgeon into adulthood a lovely site to behold.


But is there anything harder than adolescence? Seriously! Take a good look at the corresponding picture of me if you don’t agree! I’m the one with the hexagonal glasses…;0 So much going on, inside and outside, not a moment of rest or tranquility, something always seems to be happening. If it’s not your body, it’s your feelings. If it’s not you, then it’s your family and friends! Teenager-hood is like the cruelest and most vulnerable time of life! Perhaps that’s why I have such a soft place for middle schoolers. They flutter with awkwardness and potential.


Oh how my heart ached as some of the students held the microphone and openly shared. We heard good things and triumphant discoveries about how much Jesus loves us.  A common theme was how before coming to Teen CBS, many kids were just acting like Christians, going through the motions.


We heard about ongoing struggles with depression, serious family illness, divorce and loneliness. And the room grew hushed as one girl took a deep breath and began to tell her story. She told the crowd of adults and peers how she doesn’t have very many friends. Tears streamed from her little face and she began to sob. I think I even saw a few boys getting choked up hearing and empathizing with her pain. It was deeply moving to sense that we all began looking inward pondering our own sins, pains and regrets. 


But then, mere minutes later, a girl took the microphone and without a hint of selfishness or worry about what anyone would think, she openly apologized to that girl for not treating her as she should. The two embraced and wept. The spirit of the Lord was upon this place. Grace and mercy, forgiveness and love abounded. Oh if you could have been there…

The cleansing that occurs when we confess our sins to the Lord and to others is like nothing else in this world. I am free from those chains that bound me for so long. I can admit my mistreatment of Rita because of Christ and what He has done in my life. In fact, I can tell my children and anyone in the blogosphere of my regrets because they have been forgiven. Being a teenager was brutal, hallelujah, I will never have to relive those days. Now thanks to the Lord, I am a new creation. I try to help others navigate that treacherous season of life by pointing them to Jesus. 

Do you have a mouth guard?

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Since I was a little girl, I have loved puzzles. One of my favorite moments was when my dad would bring me home a puzzle.


In my daily life, I look for pieces of life. You know, things that inextricably fit together. On a good day, I’ll put those pieces together and have an “aha” or a praiseworthy moment. Other times I’ll be chastened because it’s obvious God is trying to teach me something.

Oh boy, if you have been following my blog lately, it should be apparent that we have had a lot of “puzzling” moments! OY!

And so I thought I’d share with you some awesome pieces I put together today.

Months ago, I attended a Winter Sports Meeting at my OS’s school. Not particularly thrilling or dynamic but I paid attention when the principle cautioned parents of basketball players to purchase a mouth guard for their athletes.

After a few games, I had legitimate fears of Ike’s teeth flying all over the court and immediately purchased the mouth guard. Ike was threatened within an inch of his life if he didn’t wear it while playing. Yet there was one game where he forgot the mouth guard completely and many others where that mouth guard has been perched partially out of his mouth providing absolutely no protection for his pearly whites. My eyes would bulge out of my head and he would experience my wrath from the bleachers if I didn’t see the mouth guard exactly where it needed to be. We affectionately call them motherly death rays…

Then we had our “humbling moments” and our Apology Tour. On Friday night, after Isaac was fast asleep, I decided to future torture myself by folding a load of laundry. I opened the dryer door and what did I see staring right at me? Yes, Isaac’s mouth guard. (This photo is a dramatic re-enactment.)


At first I felt like Satan was poking me in the eye. Like the Devil was saying “Haha, Looo–ser! Some mom you are! I guess you won’t be needing that mouth guard anymore now will you? Hmmmm?” I could see the Father of Lies snickering and doing some serious knee-slapping revelling in the misery of our sadness and disappointment. Jerk.

Along with the clean clothes, I held the mouth guard and truly felt a profound sadness clutching it in my mama’s hands. It represented embarrassment, shame, hopes dashed, hurt and fear. I wanted to throw it out.


But as the weekend pro- gressed, we could see some rays of hope. Ike was repentant and willing to make amends. Parents were willing to forgive and offer mercy. Three generations – grandmother, daughter, brothers, sons, father all held hands Saturday morning and prayed out loud, one after another for all aspects of this situation. And the mouth guard stayed away from the trash.

There are other puzzle pieces I might share in future posts regarding these recent incidents but I truly believe that the Lord placed that mouth guard in the dryer as a reminder to me.

Psalm 141:3 Set a guard over my mouth, O LORD; keep watch over the door of my lips.

Ephesians 4:29 Do not let any unwholesome talk come out of your mouths, but only what is helpful for building others up according to their needs, that it may benefit those who listen.

Ephesians 5:4 Let there be no filthiness nor foolish talk nor crude joking, which are out of place, but instead let there be thanksgiving.

In every day, Ike (and me and maybe even you, no offense) need to wear a mouth guard. Maybe not an ugly plastic one but one that protects us and others from unkind words, filthy talk and gossip. My orange hair, freckle-face teenage OS confessed to me that nasty words fly out easier on the basketball court. No duh! Now we have yet another reason his mouth guard must remain in the position where it was designed. From the bleachers, I am on the look-out making sure my OS’s mouth guard is where it’s supposed to be.

Puzzle pieces everywhere. When this whole thing started, I thought the nice mom calling me was placing an order for an apron – WRONG! But I am ever thankful for what she ultimately gave me – refining moments which are teaching us as we relentlessly, endlessly love each other and our Lord.

Sew messy

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For the last six weeks, I have been a mad seamstress. Not mad as in angry but mad as in crazy, frazzled and ridiculously blessed. As of this post, I will have made almost 70 aprons for Christmas. Since I am the mama of three OS, I have used nearly half a football field worth of material. I have sewn aprons for people who aren’t even related to me, people who would not feel morally indebted to purchase something made by my hands.

Beyond my wildest expectations, the Lord has spoken to my heart deeply and when I have time, I wish to share with you my personal history as it relates to aprons. For me, aprons are more than an “outer garment one uses to primarily cover the front of the body.” But alas, let me say that I am nearly without words to describe the depth of happiness and fulfillment it has brought me to make them for others including some of you who will read this post.


If there is a downside, it’s that my house has been a wreck. Seriously. Sew messy. And it seems as if there hasn’t been a room in my house where the Fabric Monster hasn’t touched. Threads, pins, remnants have invaded this once fairly tidy domicile.
Since I do not have a craft room, my kitchen has served as the Command Center for this operation. One evening I took a few pictures to offer you a glimpse of the vantage point from my sewing machine. It looked worse at other times but I didn’t have the courage to capture the chaos.


To me, it looks like one of those photos you’d see in an I-Spy book. “I spy with my little eye an orange dinosaur…” (I made dinosaur aprons) or “I spy with my little eye a Christmas ornament in a box…” (I personalized an ornament for a friend). We have a beautiful new room outside of our kitchen and to the Hubs’ chagrin, the ironing board became a new piece of furniture. It didn’t exactly match with the existing decor but I’ve had no choice.


And then there’s Tess. Tess is the name of my dress form. When my oldest OS returned home from West Point for Christmas Break, I asked him if he had met Tess. He said no and when I introduced them to each other, he told me I was seriously freaking him out.

At this moment, our house is less cluttered as my apron making frenzy has calmed down. I am proud of myself for working hard and so happy to being slightly relaxed until Wednesday…aka Christmas Cookie Making Time!

Merry CHRISTmas!

Sew blessed

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Since I will never have a daughter, I have missed out on shopping sprees for dresses. I’m not complaining or feeling sorry for myself, it’s just a fact. I have also missed temper tantrums, crying fits with a moody daughter who can’t find anything to wear which is totally fine with me. Since I’m wildly crazy about my OS, I don’t spend a lot of time lamenting the fact that I don’t have a daughter, I just yank up my big girl panties and move on. Sorry for that word picture.


But in lieu of dress shopping, I have the privilege of guy shopping. Recently my OS Aaron announced to me, “Mom, you have to take me shopping!” I wasn’t sure of the reason until I inquired. That’s when Aaron emphatically reminded me of the Snow Ball, his school’s upcoming dance. It was like a V-8 moment…you know where the guy gets whacked up the side of the head? How could I forget?

However as soon as my 15 year old OS told me that, I also translated his sentence. Really what he was saying is, “Mom, I need for you to buy me some new clothes for the dance.” That’s when I asked my son, “Aaron, with what am I going to buy you some new clothes? I’m not sure we have the money for that.”

I could see that he was dejected but attempted to understand. I felt badly because I desperately wanted to do this for him.

That’s when I started to pray. “Lord, help me find a way to get Aaron some new clothes for the Snow Ball.”

I didn’t tell the Hubs of my prayer, it was just between God and me. I didn’t tell my friends so they would feel indebted to buy an apron so Aaron could have a new pair of pants or a sweater. I kept it just between the two of us, the Lord and myself. And do you know what happened? He heard my prayer, as He always does and this time, He honored it with a yes. In a week’s time, I had enough apron orders that I was able to say to my boy, “Aaron, I’m going to take you shopping and buy you some clothes with the apron money I earned this week.”


So last Saturday I took my middle OS out to lunch (used a coupon) and then we went shopping (with a coupon.) Our time was even more blessed because of who got us there (the Lord) and why (sweet folks wanting an apron). In my wildest dreams and prayers, never did I imagine that God would bless me so richly through aprons of all things!

The hugs and love my OS lavished upon me were reward enough. We had silly times as we tried to find pants that fit his trim frame and less than tall stature. It was like trying to find a needle in a haystack. The pants were too big or too long, nearly impossible to get the perfect size but alas we found a handsome outfit worthy of my boy! We left the store excited about the upcoming dance and envisioned all the ladies swooning around him as they admired his muscles, beauty and fancy new threads! HA!


I have been sewing like a crazy woman. My sewing machine is whirrrrrring all the time. There is fabric strewn throughout the house and I’m having a blast helping my family and being creative. The Lord truly does give us the desires of our heart and this moment with Aaron is one of many blessings I’ve received through His goodness manifested in APRONS. More to come, I can’t wait to tell you more stories like this!

We love you dry ice

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If you have a nearly 13 year old boy on your Christmas shopping list, have I found an inexpensive gift item for you! It’s cheap, it’s fun and slightly dangerous, what more could a nearly 13 year old boy want!

Ok, so here it is. Brace yourself, it’s really special…

It’s…drum roll, please…
Dry ice

Dry ice?? Yep, dry ice.

I wouldn’t have thunk it myself but let me attest to how wonderful you will be in the eyes of an almost 13 year old OS if you get him a chunk of dry ice. I think if Ike could prepare curriculum for 7th grade boys, it would involve only two classes – P.E. and Dry Ice. The end. Class dismissed.

It all started when the Hubs, Ike and I went to work out and on the way home, we went to buy some lettuce. Excitedly, Ike begged and pleaded the Hubs and I to also purchase a bag of dry ice.

Oh, if you could have seen the look of utter joy as the dry ice went down the conveyor belt and our bag boy slipped the chunk it into the plastic grocery bag! I don’t know if I’ve ever seen the child this happy even about ice cream!

We arrived home and Ike was eager to experiment. After placing the slab in a bowl, he went to work. In school, he learned that if you place a nickel on dry ice, it wiggles. The Hubs and Ike used a quarter and shazam, observed similar results. Then Ike marveled at the billows of cloud-like smoke swirling just above the bowl after putting water in the bowl. Another experiment involving dry ice and soap created foamy, dramatic bubbles.

He loved it so much, I think if Lebron James himself would have sauntered into the kitchen, Ike would have merely given him a passing nod, maybe a little, “Wuz up” which is saying something because Ike has already determined he WILL have a child named Lebron one day!

This past summer, Ike had a lot of fun making a brain but it smelled funny and what do you do with a mushy brain when you’re finished with it? As long as you don’t put your hand on it for long, I have learned the dry ice is pretty cool with no unpleasant odors.

Every thing about the dry ice produced a “Mom, come look at this!” moment! I will admit it was interesting. The only thing that was rather annoying was when we sat down to dinner. The dry ice had been placed on the table. We were bowing heads, holding hands and as we began to pray; gurgling sounds came rising from the bowl. The bubbling was so loud, it nearly went above the petitions we were making to the Lord! You know how your stomach sounds if you are having diarrhea-like symptoms or if you’ve had food poisoning? Well, those are the sounds of dry ice if you put a lot of water on it. Ultimately, it became so gross and disruptive, we had to banish the dry ice outside until we were finished praying and had had dinner!


For three hours, our almost teenager, played with dry ice. That had to be the best $5 I have ever spent on a child. Based on how much fun he had and apparently how much he learned about dry ice in class, I think we will be getting some again in the very near future!

It was fun seeing our boy wildly loving something as simple and cheap as dry ice. If you have been reading any of my recant posts, then you know “we” are having a lot of wild moments lately (if I could only blog about more of them!). A perfectly content, pre–adolescent boy is a thing of great beauty these days.