I’m not sure why, but the other day, she ended up changing three diapers in one day for me.  Bonny Annie probably, on average, changes a diaper every other day, so this was kinda big.  By the third diaper, she was all heavy sighs and big eye rolls, and she’s made sure to tell at least five people about her fate.

Bonny Annie is a great big sister.  She helps with Cap’n Jack Henry a lot.  Just this morning, I woke up with a really bad headache, and she took over for me for about an hour and half or so, so I could take some Extra Strength Tylenol and lie back down for a while.

If I have a big chore project going on, she will play with him or put on episodes of “The Suite Life of Zack and Cody,” which for some unexplainable reason, entertains Jack Henry.

If I need to run in the store for just a few items, I can leave the car running with the AC and go in by myself, while she holds down the fort in the car.  She only occasionally needs to karate chop Dirty Harry, and all is well.

As a matter of fact, if you have a child, especially a girl, that is about 11 years old or so, you might as well go ahead and plan on having another baby soon.  It will be the easiest child you’ve ever raised because the girl child will half raise it for you.

And Jack Henry loves her.  He loves her so much that he gives her open mouth kisses…

This is a big step for the Cap’n because just a few months ago, you may remember, when she asked for kisses, she got something else entirely.

Actually, he may be biting her…

…but we have chosen to believe it is kissing.

Because she really is a good sister (and daughter!), one that deserves to be kissed.  Not bitten.  Or slapped.

…even without the multiple diaper changes.

(Psst…how did I do, Bonny Annie?  And when you’re done reading this, I think I smell something…)

On the rare occasion that I actually blog on a Friday, I usually like to post something for my “Flashback Friday” feature where I delve into my legwarmered, teal eyeshadowed, BonJovied past and write about something ridiculously old-school.  I have something I could post about today that is extremely timely and interesting and bittersweet that would definitely count as a flashback, but I can’t post about it.  And I can’t tell you why.  I probably won’t be able to post about it for at least five years.  Don’t ask…I can’t tell.  Yet.

Soooooooooooooo…I’m going to post a little vignette about my three children eating breakfast.  Yes, eating.  Yes, breakfast.  Because these are the photos that inspired me today as I browse Big D’s site.

Big D took this series of photos in February when we were visiting his parents.  I don’t know why he took them, but I’m glad he did.  Big D and I have very different photo-taking approaches.  Usually, I use my point-and-shoot to try to record bits of our history.  I take pictures during holidays.  I take pictures at events.  I take pictures so that we will remember.

Big D takes pictures of emotions.  He captures feelings.  He records personality.  It is art.  I love that we have both kinds of pictures of our family.  Someday my kids can look back and remember what we did and where we went and what they achieved.  But they’ll also be able to look at these photos and know who they were.

They are just eating cereal, for crying out loud.  But one can look at these photos and know something about each of them.  We don’t just know that we went to Ma and Pa’s house and ate their cereal.  We know a little bit about them.  We see a little of their souls.  Some how, some way Big D clicked and captured a moment and captured their characters at the same time.

I love photography.

I love my kids.

I love my husband.

Happy Friday to you all…

First of all, it means (and I’ve covered this one before) red dirt and grass stains on white pants because guess what a baseball diamond consists of?  Red dirt and grass.  And guess where your son (or daughter) will be most of the time?  Yes, in the dirt and grass.

It means that Big D is the assistant coach this year.  It means that you will see him less and less, that he will hibernate on baseball coaching sites, and that packages from UPS will be delivered almost daily to your doorstep containing practice tees and other coaching paraphernalia.  It means that you can’t call his cell phone while he’s at a practice because he won’t answer you, of if he does, he will have no idea what you’re saying to him.  It means that Dirty Harry is thrilled to have his dad as a coach.  It means that I’m extremely proud of him for sacrificing his time and energy to fill the gap…but that I still wish he’d pick up that darn phone!

It will mean that your teenage daughter just got a lot more bored.  She will need endless change and dollar bills for infinite trips to the concession stand.  She will need to have her cell phone charged so she can make lots of phone calls to her friends.  She will ask you about ten times in an hour and half if the game is almost over.  She will be flirted with by her brother’s teammates and friends, which will make you sick to your stomach and willing to comply with her requests to stay home.

It means that your child might pitch.  And subsequently that will mean that I, as a nervous wreck, will bite off all my nails (and I don’t bite my nails).  It means that I will drink a shot of whiskey (and I don’t drink whiskey).  It means that I will go to the parking lot to smoke a cigarette (and I don’t smoke).  It means that I will retreat to my van and eat a whole box of Little Debbie Swiss Cake Rolls (okay…I’ve been known to eat a few of those).

It means that I have to carry a twenty pound sack of taters on my back.  It means that he will cry and fuss a lot.  It means he will appeal to total strangers in the stands to free him.  It means that he will want ice water and Cheerios on demand.  It means he can’t have it because I’m not made of rubber, and I can’t reach him.  It means he’ll throw a tantrum, banging his head against my back.  It means I take him out of the carrier and hand him over to the bored teenager, killing two birds with one stone.

And speaking of birds, I never would have guessed that baseball would mean that we would have dirty birds.  But it does.  Because Big D and Dirty Harry…those stinkers!…broke my birdbath while playing catch in the backyard.  Dirty Harry threw the ball.  Big D missed it.  And my birdbath, which used to belong to my grandmother, was smashed in the process.

I’m proud of him and his strong arm, but that is ridiculous.

Don’t you just love baseball season?  I do.  I really do.

And he’s sweet.  And he does funny things.  And all in all, he’s been a fairly good, easy baby.

But in order to maintain integrity here on this blog, it’s only fair to let you know that the Cap’n has another side.  A more sinister side.  It’s sad but true.

For the record, we are trying to break that habit.  It has caused some uncomfortable situations.  He did this, not once but twice, to the kids’ TaeKwonDo instructor’s wife.  Mrs. Rodgers, if you’re reading this as you occasionally do, again, I’m VERY sorry for that incident.  So far, he’s only slapped people that he truly likes and greatly admires.

While, I did stop the taping to give him some baby discipline, one has to ask, “Did Bonny Annie deserve that?”.  She is thirteen years-old, and that’s all I’m going to say about that.

We did take a ton of pictures of Bonny Annie.  She was cute.  She was a little red-headed girl.  She was the first grandchild.  On both sides.  She was oft-photographed.

But we took even more pictures of Dirty Harry.  He was cute too.  He was chubby.  He was the first boy grandchild.  On both sides.  But it was mostly because we had a better camera.

But Cap’n Jack Henry wins the prize.  He is undoubtedly the most photographed child in our family.  Possibly in the whole world.  He’s cute.  He’s little.  He has extra-long eyelashes.  And super-curly hair.  He’s the 6th grandchild.  On both sides. 

Allow me to demonstrate this dynamic…

Yesterday was Easter, right?  All three kids got a little bit of candy in their baskets.  See…

So far, so good.

So, how many photos does it take to document each child’s consumption of said candy?  Let’s take a look…

Specimen #1,  Bonny Annie:

One…

Two…

(and she’s probably going to kill me for posting that one)

Three…

Three…not bad.  Sufficient.  To the point.

Specimen #2, Dirty Harry:

One…

One?  Just one?  And I was lucky to get that one.  He doesn’t like to sit still for picture-taking.

Specimen #3, Cap’n Jack Henry:

One…

Two…

Three…

Four…

Five…

Six…

Seven…

Eight…

Nine…

Ten…

Eleven…

Eleven.  Eleven!!!  Excessive.  Superfluous.  And I deleted the blurry ones.

So, as you can see, it is possible to take more pictures of your second, third, fourth, fifth, etc. children than you did of your first.  It can be done.  I believe that I also proved that it would be crazy for us to try to have a fourth child.  We simply do not have the time or energy to take and process all of the potential pictures.

Last week Bonny Annie went to a weekend camp with our church.  She was soooooo excited.

Why was she excited?  Well, there were many reasons.  The fact that this was her first time to go away to camp was at the top of the list.  Other reasons included…

Being able to meet new friends…

Praise and worship sessions…

The challenge to draw closer to God…

Hanging out with and getting to know better some of the adult volunteers from our church…

Getting to be on the same Foosball team with Pastor David…

Yes, all of  these reasons caused her to anticipate the trip.  But do you know what she was most excited about?  What she was most looking forward to experiencing?

Her first ride on a REAL school bus!

I tell ya’…these home schooled kids are so deprived…

…and weird.

(A special thanks to Big D for going on the retreat too and providing all the photographs seen here.  There’s nothing quite like going to youth camp with your photographer dad trailing you like the papparazzi.)

Once upon a time, there lived three children who were very odd.

They did odd things, ate odd foods, played odd games and often wore odd clothes.

No one is really quite sure why they were so odd.  Genetics?  Atmosphere?  The fact that they are homeschooled?  Global warming?  It is a mystery…

Despite their social dysfuntions, their quirks and their oddness, they were happy, and that’s what really matters.

The end.

But, of course, it just isn’t the Peanuts without Snoopy, so here ya’ go…

Ummm…okay….I realize that one is going to require a bit of imagination.  Just work with me here…

I hope you’ve had a wonderful Thanksgiving.  I hope that you’re full.  I hope that you’re warm.  I hope that you are surrounded by your loved ones.  I hope that someone else washed the dishes. I hope that there are only 5 calories in your second third piece of pumpkin pie.  And most of all, I hope that you know the peace and comfort that comes from knowing the Savior.

Bonny Annie is great with Cap’n Jack Henry.

They watch TV together…

She helped him trick-or-treat…

She taught him to dance on our kitchen table…

She even takes him to Tae Kwon Do class…

Yes, she is an attentive, patient, careful big sister, and I’m thankful to have her, and she can never go away to college or get married or leave me in general.

However, if I were her, I’d leave this photo out of my babysitting resume…

Of course, you may be wondering why I’m snapping pictures instead of rescuing my baby who could, at any moment, fall off the sofa.

I think he may be wondering that too.

I’ll bet that if you’re a reader like me, then you’ve collected a few….or a thousand….books over the years.  And I’ll also bet that even if you know you’ll never read a certain title again, that it’s hard to get rid of the copy.  And I’ll also bet that several of your volumes have thick layers of dust collecting on the spines.  If that last assumption is not the case, please don’t tell me, okay?

I have collected books for a couple of decades now and have several shelves laden with the contents.  Lately, however, I’ve been perusing them more often looking for things for Bonny Annie to read, and I’ve come up with some long-forgotten treasures.

Currently, we’re in the thick of a two-year study of American history.  Annaleigh’s curriculum is actually designed to be completed in a year, but we’re drawing it out over two in order to keep her and Dirty Harry covering the same subject matter simultaneously.  Bonny Annie reads voraciously though, so I’ve been trying to find extra books to fill in the holes.

Right now she’s in the middle of the series pictured above.  It’s The Keeper of the Ring series by Angela Elwell Hunt. Each book focuses on real and fictional characters that surround one of our country’s first settlements.  I had collected this series when I was a newlywed college student, almost twenty years ago…back before I had three kids and had the time and the metabolism to loll around reading thick books and eating entire bags of peanut M&Ms in one sitting.  When we got to this point in history, I remembered reading and enjoying them years ago and went searching for them.  As it turns out, I had to scrounge a couple of copies up on Amazon.  I guess I loaned a few out and never got them back.

Now, you can say what you like about Christian fiction.  I know, I know.  I’ve read some duds too.  Lots of them.  But there are some really good works out there, and this series….and really anything by Angela Hunt….is one of them.  For this series, don’t let the covers that are illustrated like this scare you….

Or this…

Just ignore and get past the simpering females, with swoony faces, heaving chests, and flowing tresses.  I promise you that these are not Harlequin novels.  You will find no bodice-ripping or sweaty, glistening muscles between these pages.  While there are some romantic elements, they are handled tastefully and surrounded by historical fact and sandwiched within a well-written yarn.

Other good series that I’ve found on my shelves include the following….

• The Theyn Chronicles, by Angelea Elwell Hunt (Middle Ages)
• The Mark of the Lion series, by Francine Rivers (Ancient Rome)
• Refiner’s Fire series, by Lynn Austin (Civil War)
• Kinship and Courage series, by Jane Kirkpatrick (Westward expansion, pioneers)
• Emerald Ballads, by BJ Hoff (mid-1800s, Irish immigration)
• The Zion Covenant, by Bodie Thoene (WWII)

And I’m sure there are many, many more.  In fact, if you’ve read some great historical fiction, please leave your suggestions in the comment section.

Also, I’m not limiting my additions to Bonny Annie’s education to just Christian fiction.  Many, many good titles abound in the classics section.  I know she will be reading one of my all-time favorites, A Tree Grows in Brooklyn, by Betty Smith in about a year, when we to turn-of-the century times.

I know she needs to know the facts of history, and we spend a good bit of time on that too, but in the meantime, it’s okay to let those facts come alive within the pages of a good read.