Scratches

Every now and then, out of the blue, the cat launches himself across the room and onto someone's backside.

If you hear a scream coming from our home, it's probably, "YEEOWCH! There are 20 cat claws spread into new little holes in my back and bum at this moment and he's not letting go!"

It's the weirdest thing. It's like temporary cat insanity. He forgets for a minute that he's just a 20 pound housecat and for a moment thinks he's the lion chasing down a bit of prey in the jungle.

Yowch.

Then the spell is broken and he looks up at you with his perpetually surprised and innocent eyes.

TCI, temporary cat insanity.

Reading through the teacher's tears

You know how elementary teachers usually have one advanced chapter book that they read to the children usually after lunch when the kids are in that sleepy digestive mood? The purpose is to help children get accustomed to sophisticated story structures that are beyond their current reading ability. It builds the mental constructs of literacy quite nicely.

So, Aee's teacher let me know this morning, "I was doing Read Aloud for the class and near the end the story is so touching... I started crying and couldn't get through the book so I asked your daughter to read. She sat on my chair and finished the chapter while I dried myself off."

I could easily picture that. Aee has the steely nerves of a surgeon -- she would have grit her teeth and read loudly and clearly so all the children could hear the end of the story.

My boys

It seems like no matter what ickiness is going on in my life, if someone asks me about my kids, my face lights up and I drift into happyland. For example, a few days ago, I was working with a friend who is helping me think through some Big Picture issues. The conversation contained very little happiness in it. She asked about the kids and, you guessed it, my face lit up.

I told her about how that morning I had time to make big boys a yummy breakfast and we talked in the car on the way to seminary. The stars were out; the boys' hair was fuzzy in that fluffy-squirrel sort of way; the scents in the car were comfortingly scrumptious as they slurped their way through several slices of homemade French toast and fresh orange juice with a hint of Madagascar vanilla.

When I got home, I got a steaming hot shower that eased the tension out of my muscles.

Then I sat down at the table with my two youngest and played a few games, did homework, enjoyed their chipper little laughs and their funny stories. We dressed warmly then walked to school, stopping at the park on the way to fly a few paper airplanes we had made while still at the breakfast table. We talked about each plane's aerodynamic construction. As the little ones launched their planes off the "balcony" spot at the park, we analyzed each plane's roll, pitch, and yaw. I thrilled to hear them using the real terminology.

So, if you ever see me looking sad, ask about my kids. I see so much goodness in them, can't help but smile.