Now Quit Asking!

I have been hounded the last few months by my blog followers. Some of the comments I've received:
"I've been stalking your blog lately. Why haven't you posted anything?"
"This is your ministry to us. You need to continue your ministry."
Goodness gracious. You people have got to get a life!


It's true, I have been ignoring my blogging duties. I over committed myself this semester, and my friendships and human interactions were the first things to go. My hard work is finally over, and my schedule allows me to have friends again. The ministry is back up and running!


Please enjoy our life stories.

Where does she get this Stuff?

A friend of mine was asking Hannah about her life. When one lady’s name came up, (name withheld to protect privacy), Hannah said, “When she closes her eyes, they’re purple!” My friend asked if she wore purple makeup on her eyes. “No,” Hannah replied. “She’s just old.”

We were invited to a birthday party. (When will people learn?) The host was a beautiful Pakistani woman. She was dressed in her native clothing. She looked lovely and almost regal. When we came in, she said hello to us and bent down towards Hannah. The mom held out her hand as a gentle welcome to my little blond girl. Quite the American, Hannah didn’t pause for even one second before slapping the lady a high five and moving on.

In Hannah’s gymnastics class, the students are asked to do three somersaults in a row. This is what the other students looked like: somersault, somersault, somersault, stand, yell ta-duh! Hannah’s looked more like this: somersault, stand and pick undies out of bottom, somersault, stand and pick undies out of bottom, somersault, stand and pick undies out of bottom, yell ta-duh!

Driving home from church one Sunday, I asked Abby what she learned about in church. She told me, in some detail, about the lesson. I then asked Hannah the same question. She had a bored tone. “I don’t know; I wasn’t listening.” Horrified, Abby chided her, “Hannah, that’s not a good thing to do!” Hannah got defensive and answered with an up and down sing-song voice, “I was TIRED!”

While playing with their cousin, Jocie, the girls climbed into a dog crate and laughed as Gamma took pictures. Several days later, I heard Hannah tell a friend, “My mommy locks me in a cage!”

May

The girls and I were at Walmart, and I picked up some polish sausage. “What’s that?” asked Abby.
“Polska Kielbasa,” I explained.
“No, but what is it?” she asked again.
Knowing full well what she meant, I proceeded to mess with her. “Polska Kielbasa.”
“NO. What IS it?” she asked again, growing more frustrated.
I continued to play with her, changing my voice to some sort of make-believe accent. “POLSKA Kielbasa!”
We went back and forth for awhile before she finally lost it. Quite sternly, she demanded:
“MOMMY! Stop talking in CURSIVE!”

Hannah was studying a photo of Mike and me on our wedding day. She purred, “Mommy, you look just like a princess.” Long pause. “Daddy, you look like a human.”

We got Hannah a magnifying glass for her birthday. A few weeks later, Abby was writing a story about it. Her drawing of the magnifying glass was really good, but her spelling was a bit off. If any of you single ladies would like to borrow it, let me know. The story was about the “Manfind Glass.”

Hannah is obsessed with spelling and anything related to reading or to the alphabet. If there is an H anywhere in the vicinity, she gets quite excited. One day, my mom took her to the post office to “mail some letters.”
“OH!” Hannah said. “Are you mailing the letter H?”

Hannah’s preschool teachers asked her to fill in the blanks on a mother’s day card. Among my favorites:
Mommy is 12 years old.
Mommy’s eyes are blue.
Mommy’s hair is black.
When I’m at school, Mommy gets me food.
(I love her thoughts that I only think of her well-being when she’s away from me. If you were wondering, I have brown hair and hazel eyes.)

During a conversation with Hannah, we discovered something. Hannah thinks that we get our hair wet so that it will grow. After all, that’s what we do with our plants. (I thought that was pretty clever!)

Abby asked if she could call Gamma. I told her that Gamma wasn’t home, but she could leave a message if she wanted to. After dialing the number, then listening for the message and the beep, this is what she said.
“Hi, Gamma. This is Abby Johnson and Amy Johnson and Hannah Johnson. We’re not in right now, but if you leave a message, we’ll call you back. Thank you. Goodbye.”

Sometimes when the girls are hiding, Mike and I will say, “I guess our girls are all gone. Let’s go to the store and get some new girls.” Yesterday, Hannah said, “Abby’s not playing with me. Can we go to the store and get a new Abby?” Pause. “Let’s get a shiny one!”

April

We were in the drive-thru pharmacy line. The girls were getting restless and wanted to know more information about the medicine I was purchasing, since they knew I wasn’t sick. I explained that it was medicine that makes me not have babies. At this, they got angry. “Mommy! Don’t get it! We want more babies!” We discussed it, and they eventually calmed down.
One month later, I pulled our car into the lane again, and without any forewarning, Hannah shouted, “No, Mommy! I want a brother!”

Hannah had peeled some skin off her thumb, leaving it red and icky looking. She was concerned about the red appearance and asked when she would get it back. “Get what back?” I asked. She thought for a moment, searching for the right word. “Get the peach back!”

I told the girls that children with blond hair are called “tow heads.” They thought this was hysterical. Not knowing what tow means, I realized they were visualizing a “toe head” when they changed it to “foot head.” Hannah is thrilled to be a “toe head,” but Abby is a bit disappointed that she’s just a “brunette.”

While talking with some of my friends, the subject of eyebrows came up. (It’s a long story, but we were discussing bushy verses thin.) One of the girls mentioned that she used a toothbrush to brush her brows each morning. Another girl said that she did, also. They used the free dentist brushes. Not wanting to be left with unruly brows, I made a mental note to pick one up the next time I visited the dentist.
A week later, I saw the jar at the dental office and grabbed my eyebrow tool. The sign said they were complimentary. (It also said some other stuff that I didn’t read.) I began using my free brush as part of my beauty regime. Since the dentist had found a cavity, I returned to the office two weeks later. In the bathroom once again, I saw the toothbrush jar with its “free” sign. Pausing to read the entire sign this time, I perked up at the last line. “Free toothbrushes! Now with toothpaste already in the bristles!"
Mmmmm. . . minty eyebrows.

At Easter time, we were buying food to give to the needy. I think all the messages we give children sometimes get jumbled in their heads. Hannah thought about it. “This is for the poor people? Did they eat all their dinner? Did they say thank you?” She was fine with it after that.

Happy 4th Birthday, Hannah!

Hannah's 4th birthday party was fun and a bit uneventful. (Aunt Kelli made a beautiful cake.) On the invitations, I asked the guests not to bring gifts. Several ignored the request, which was absolutely fine with me. My only thought was that she would not open the gifts in front of her friends, since it only leads to chaos. It usually ends with the birthday girl crying, and Mommy being embarrassed. We ignored the gifts until most of the children had gone home. The plan was working! While a few kids continued to play, I began cleaning up the party. The children got bored and started to open the presents with Hannah's blessing. By the time I knew what was what, the gifts were open, strewn along the floor. Not one card was near its gift. I have no idea which gift came from which guest. Try writing thank-you notes after that!

March

Abby completed her first diorama. As the mother of a child who has completed her first diorama, I now apologize to the mothers of my previous students who were assigned a diorama.

I worked hard cleaning the girls' rooms. I changed the sheets, put away their laundry, and picked up the floor. I was very proud of myself, but with Mike out of town, I had no one to appreciate the beauty of the rooms. I emailed him, and he responded that I should take pictures and send them to him so he could applaud me. I waited two hours before taking the pictures. My mistake. In those two hours, two things happened.
1. I fell asleep.
2. The girls got a hold of a roll of tape and a roll of toilet paper.


I sent the pictures to Mike. His response was, "Wow. You must have worked so hard."

The girls get their hair done:

Abby was in her first school play this month. She was a bunny who raked leaves. Gamma and Papa made her an adorable outfit after hearing me whine about it one too many times. When the performance night came, Mike came home from work with a sheepish look. He had left our camera at school. At the last minute, we also decided not to take our video camera, since we always get stuck in the back with no clear shot. Sure enough, we were behind at least 100 people, so I took Hannah and sat on the floor right in front of the stage. When the curtains opened, we had a perfect sight line to our bunny. (I was kicking myself for the not bringing the camcorder!) Abby spotted Hannah and I right away and couldn’t stop staring at us with a huge grin on her face. At one point, she mouthed slowly and deliberately, “This is my favorite soooonnnngggg.” She did an amazing job.

I teach at a local community college. One night, a quote from Robert Redford fit into my lecture material. I showed a picture of Redford, made a comment about him being easy on the eyes (the picture was taken when he was in his 40s), and read the quote. One of my male students said, “You think he’s cute?” I replied enthusiastically, but the student was not impressed and pointed out several features that he thought were unattractive. As I moved on with the lecture, another student leaned and whispered something into his ear. His eyes grew wide, and his hand went up. When I called on him, he said, “”Ma’am, if that’s your husband, I’m really sorry I said that about him.”
He’d never heard of Robert Redford. I feel so old.