A Chapter of Fruit Salad

I'm reading a children's version of Anne of Green Gables to Ali. She always asks for "just one more chapter." Usually I oblige, because I love the story as much as she does. Apparently, Jair has caught on to this. Tonight he asked me for "just a little bit chapter of fruit salad, please."

Why our daddy is a good daddy

My husband's phone call interrupted an otherwise quiet lunch the other day. When I hung up the phone I told my kids, "You have such a good daddy. Do you know that?"

"Yes!" they shouted. Then I asked them why their daddy is a good daddy. Here are the answers they gave me, verbatim. When they realized I had started writing these down, they insisted I write down exactly what they said.

1. He plays fun games with us.
2. He jumps with us.
3. He teaches us a lot of things.
4. He prays for us at night.
5. He has strong muscles.
6. He can carry two kids.
7. He can carry his wife.
8. He can carry himself.
9. He feeds J.D.
10. When Mommy is gone, he feeds us.
11. He goes out in storms by himself.
12. He watches movies with us.
13. He colors with us.
14. He might paint with us sometime.
15. We like pie! (Jeremy often brings leftover pie home from work.)
16. He always looks happy, and he loves his children!
17. Mommy likes his hair messy.

Snow on the Windshield

Sunday morning, we woke up to a blanket of thick snow, perfect for sledding and snowman-building.

On our way to church, Ali spotted something unusual. "Look, Daddy and Mommy! That truck is driving with snow on its looker thing!"

"What is a looker thing?" I asked.

"You know, that thing you and Daddy are looking out of."

"Oh, you mean the windshield," her daddy said. "Ali, do you know why it's called a windshield?"

" 'Cause it has windshield wipers on it?" she grinned.

We smiled, explained the word, and enjoyed her delight in the snow-covered scenery all the way to church.

The day's activities took longer than expected, so it was almost dark when we finally went outside to play. We tried out the night setting on our camera to take pictures of Sammy the Snowman at Ali's lemonade stand.

Yummy Toes

I can't believe it!

Yesterday morning, a curly-haired little boy woke me up with a hug, his brown eyes shining. Minutes later we heard his sister coming down the stairs, whispering, "I can't believe it! I can't believe it!" She jumped into my room. "Mommy, it's SNOWING!" She admired the light dusting of snow on our deck, then turned to me with squinted eyes and a scrunched nose. "Is it ... Christmas?"

(She had a similar reaction on Christmas morning: "It cannot be Christmas. There is no snow.)

While the baby took his morning nap, we bundled up and went outside to play in the long-awaited snow.

Almost everything had melted by afternoon, so we made a snow scene inside. The best part was shaking all the salt from the salt shaker.

Now which is more suprising - that the first real snowfall of the winter didn't come til January 16, or that I actually did a craft today?

Nine Months

He's a few weeks shy of nine months, but J.D. had his nine-month check-up yesterday. Our not-so-little man is 2 1/2 feet tall and almost 23 pounds. His favorite activities right now are splashing in the tub, feeding himself finger foods, and getting your attention so he can smile at you.

4,000 Words on an Average Day

The Original Meatball

My almost-four-year-old dropped her meatball at dinner yesterday. Ever-vigilant for teachable moments, I seized this as the perfect opportunity to teach my children the classic song "On Top of Spaghetti." As the final strains of "and then my poor meatball rolled right out the door" reverberated off the kitchen walls, my daughter sighed. "Awww. That is so sad."

She paused for two-tenths of a second before she shifted into interrogation mode.

"Does her mom have any more meatballs? "
"Will she give her some?"
"If someone was walking along and saw the meatball, what kind of face would they have? "
"What would they say?"

(Here her two-year-old brother chimed in confidently: "They would pick it up and eat it ALL.")

"Why didn't she get out of her chair and get it?"
"What would her mom think when she saw the meatball on the ground?"
"Are there any other songs about food?"
"Can you sing them?"
"Now can you pick up my meatball?"

Half-way through the conversation, I grabbed a notepad and started writing. This would be a story worth re-telling. My brother stationed overseas, grandparents a few states away, even friends and family we see every week would get a chuckle out of this one. Almost-four-year-olds say some very entertaining things.

Then again, almost-four-year-olds are also almost-old-enough to notice when grown-ups are laughing over stories about them. Rather than embarrass my precious girl, why not put this little story about her in a blog?

And why not post some of the photos I snap here and there throughout the week? Surely that would be better than sending out a 25-picture KodakGallery.com slide show every six months or so. If family and friends actually want to see pictures of my children, they can visit our blog. And if they don't, my e-mails won't be pestering them anymore.

For a long time I've resisted the blogging trend because it's just so ... trendy. Trendy is near the top of my "Things I Never Want to Be" list. But "pride goeth before a fall," so here I am with a trendy blog with a trendy name. Melancholy introspection and cleverly forced insights are sure to follow if this blog is about me.

But life ain't about me, so neither is this blog. Meatball Minutes will be a family scrapbook, a place to stash the funny stories, the cute photos, the little details we might otherwise forget to share with far-off loved ones. It will be a place to delight in today's blessings and the One who gives them.

Every day [with its new reasons] will I bless you – affectionately and gratefully praise you; yes, I will praise your name for ever and ever.
Psalm 145:2, AMP

To family and friends far and near, welcome. Hope you enjoy the meatballs.

Photo