Scenes from Our Day

I know I'm not supposed to touch the phone by the bed, but Lizard Green made me do it.

It's like being pregnant but without the special treatment!

Lambie's dipsomania is worse than ever, I'm afraid...

I think this is really a pickle dish, but it looks good with lilies (12:00, 12:00, 12:00)...

...and I cut my hair. Myself. Do you think it worked? :)

Cheers,

Breanna

Perceptions

When I woke up and saw the alarm clock flashing 12:00, 12:00, 12:00, right away I knew what had happened--time had frozen for everyone but me.

--Johnny Bravo

I was thinking the other day about the turn of the millenium and a piece done by some news agency (or all of them) about "greatest events of the millenium". Of the "greatest" events of 1000 years, better than half of them supposedly happened in the 20th century (they threw the sixteenth century the sop of the printing press and modern drama), and better than half of those happened from 1980-1999. Now, even at the tender age of 16, it did seem to me like this was an obvious failure of perception. The twentieth century might be a very interesting century indeed, but it's hard to believe that it had more important events in it than the last nine combined. And having a distressing habit of reading old books, it did seem to me that people in 1930 might have quarreled with the idea that nothing much really happened (besides a couple world wars) in the 20th century until around 1988 or so.

It's easy to make fun of Johnny and the news gang, but the reality is that we all make mistakes in our perception. It's easy enough to see them when other people make them, but not so easy when we ourselves are walking around, amazed at how time has frozen for everyone but us. Two mistakes that Christians make as a group have been before me lately.

The first one is what I'll call the We Must Protect the Republic mistake. Any of you who read this blog with any kind of regularity will know that I don't advocate that Christians stay out of public life, but politics is sort of like eating: good and lots of fun when you do it right, can take over your life if you do it wrong.

Christians in America have a tendency to think that it's our first duty to legislate right and wrong in the country. I won't repeat the old saw "you can't legislate morality" because, obviously, you can--we wouldn't have laws against murder if we didn't think you could--but we go about it backward. We get all upset about something like gay marriage or whether or not the courts are deeming it constitutional this week to have the Decalogue in public buildings. We mobilize support and write our congresspeople and make speeches on television.

What ends up happening is that we expend a great deal of energy that is, therefore, NOT spent on preaching the Gospel. (No, "Gay marriage is an oxymoron" is not the content of the Gospel.) This is surely a failure of our perception-- in 1000 years, it won't matter one whit whether or not Americans had some legal form by which homosexuals could leave their property to each other. It will matter, however, how many people became Christians. You see, those people will still exist, either in heaven or hell.

(Sometime I will write a post and deal with gay marriage in more detail; for now suffice it to look at the oxymoron point above.)

So, politics can be a fun hobby and even something we do for a living, but running the most successful political campagin there ever was is less important than raising up one godly child. If we dwell on eternal things, our perspective will reflect this.

The other failure of perception isn't unique to American Christians or even to modern Christians. I mean the easy way we forget that we have another, eternal life coming and that this life is just Freshman Orientation for that one, as it were.

We get all tangled up in how we're going to pay our mortgage, or whether we'll be able to send the kids to college, or if we're "fufilled as a person", or if we have a "normal" marriage, or if the country is going to the dogs, or fill-in-the-blank. Not that these things should be ignored, but if we have an accurate perception, we'll be able to put them where they belong: primarily, they are just opportunities to learn to obey and trust the Person we'll spend the very real rest of our eternal life with.

This is why the Lord told us to watch birds and lilies as a specific reminder that we're not to worry about material provision or the future.

Me, whenever I see a lily from now on, I'm going to think: "12:00, 12:00, 12:00."

Cheers,

Breanna

Well, That's One Way to Lose These Walking Blues

Miss Boo has been liking this video lately:



...though we quit when it degenerates into a drum solo at the end.

Today we got up with Daddy because, well, he's way cooler than letting Mama sleep a little longer.

Brother had sympathy for me and helpfully went back to sleep after only a complete change of clothes.

Stickers...

...a little light morning reading with our "maulsh" (a Boovian mix of German and English)...

...and we have to feed our new friend, Lizard Green, because he's soooo hungry. He has to sit at the high chair, because where else would anybody eat?

(He is plastic, by the way. I'm not that crazy yet.)

Cheers,

Breanna

Happy Birthday, Graps!

I found this just for you. :)

Cheers,

Breanna

For the Aunties

MY Aunties. I figured some of you (or all of you) might enjoy this:




Because really, who doesn't want to see Peter Frampton and the Bee Gees do Beatles covers in crazy costumes? And don't you feel bad that this lady singing "Strawberry Fields" never had her own album, when she's one of the better voices?

Cheers,

Breanna

We've Been Busy!

We've had company, but working company--Uncle Deve (his Boovian name; you can figure out who he really is if you reflect that S is a hard letter but D is an easy one) has been fixing various and sundry things around the house that have been needing fixing for months. The kiddos and I have been getting stuff done inside since we aren't needed to hold the gap outside. So...

Brother has been working on his extra chins...

Miss Boo has been figuring out how to smile cheesily at the camera when the red flash warning light goes on...

Brother is a bit distressed that his legs might be too thin for his future sumo career...

Miss Boo has been trying to shove Lambie into the camera case...

...and Brother is tired from all that extra eating he's been doing.

Poor Uncle Deve has been working his fingers to the bone, but I can't find it in my heart to pity him on account of I'm actually getting a real clothesline and a happy husband out of the deal. (Things like garden fences tend to weigh on him, whereas I'd be happy to use the cobbled-together version for approximately 900 years.)

Cheers,

Breanna

America is Good

So lately I picked up and read this book by Glenn Beck, who in spite of being a television personality sometimes makes a good bit of sense. It's an easy read, like the pamphlet by Tom Paine that inspired it, and in the back it contains a list of nine statements and twelve principles which Mr. Beck believes will help preserve the Union. I thought it would be an interesting vent for my politicktical (ten points for the Homestar reference, if you get it--have you been tallying your points?) writing to go through his statements and principles and examine them. So this is the first article in the series; lucky you!

(If my politicktical opinions bore you, please skip. I won't be hurt. I'll post some baby stuff for ya'll soon.)

The first statement is:

1. America is good.

By this I don't think Beck means that America never makes mistakes or even that our national sins are small, since most of his book is about how America has gone off-course. Rather I think that Beck means that what have classically been American ideals (personal freedom, participation in government, hard work, etc.) are good. I think Beck also means that frequently throughout its history America has been on the side of righteousness. I agree with him.

If this makes your hackles raise, remember that there is a difference between patriotism and jingoism. Jingoism might be summarized as "our country right or wrong", which is a dangerous and most wicked idolatry. Patriotism, on the contrary, is never so grieved as when "our country" is wrong. Just as there is a kind of "love" which has nothing to do with the good of its object, but only the satisfaction of the lover, so jingoism has nothing actually to do with the good of the country. Patriotism, and true love, will both take measures that make the beloved uncomfortable or even unhappy if those measures will ensure the ultimate good of the beloved.

The uneasiness which many Americans feel at claiming any pride in American accomplishments results from a charming but mistaken sense of unworthiness. National sins (and they exist) aside, many Americans have a mistaken idea that a badge of a really enlightened nation is to fit in with Europe (i.e., the Cool Kids).

Why this should be, when we are not part of Europe, is something of a mystery; America was, after all, settled by people who couldn't get along in Europe. It's also a separate continent, with its own distinct culture, idiom, and ideals. It makes only slightly more sense to say that America should be governed by European opinions than it does to say that say, Japan or Tibet should.

This is not to say that Americans should make themselves obnoxious or officious in Europe. European (and Asian and Australian, for that matter) countries should be free to run their own business in their own way. When America is really sinful--for example, in our abortion laws, or while slavery was legal here--then Americans have due cause to blush for her and indeed to urge the mercy of God with tears and fasting. But where Americans are simply behaving like Americans in another country, their countrymen shouldn't wince. "American" is not synonymous with "boor" or "uneducated". Neither should Americans be held accountable for their nation's foreign policy until it's been actually determined they agree with it; I wouldn't hold a Russian to whatever interesting ideas have emerged from Medvedev's mouth lately.

So those of you who are Americans reading this (presumably any others will have gotten bored a long time ago and are scrolling down to watch the "Africa" video again) can feel better about feeling good about your country. Remember, true love acts in uncomfortable ways sometimes for the good of the beloved. If you love your country, you must ask God's mercy for national sins and be sure you do not participate in them. Abortion seems defensible now; slavery seemed defensible at the time. Something to think about.

Cheers,

Breanna

We Have Liftoff - in Two Areas

No, we're not potty-trained yet, but we're in training. I casually bought a cheapie potty chair the other day because Miss Boo was getting so VERY interested whenever anybody else went potty that I thought it might make it so I am allowed to flush the toilet by myself if she had her own potty chair. She promptly sat herself down on it and demanded to have a naked tush, and pottied.
Apparently the urge to read while you wait takes hold young.
Dick and Jane (called "Jane-jane book") are very popular these days.

We've used the potty chair twice now and are beginning to wrap our minds around the concept "Go potty? TELL Mama!"

We've had, by the grace of God, a fairly productive garden this year, and the tsunami is buidling as we speak. The flowers are almost all blooming, which means I can usually have one on the table... ...and this basket of peas and lettuce, and the quart of raspberries, would be less impressive if they had actually made a dent in what's out there to be picked. The beans are almost ready to pick, the squash is all blooming, and the tomato plants are already getting heavy with green tomatoes. The onions have flourished from little spindly-looking sickly thread things to big, fat, onion-looking things. I have more radishes than I can possibly use. The carrots are beginning to assert themselves. The turnips are holding their own valiantly against a creeper I keep weeding and weeding and the peas are taking their revenge by twining around the creeper and choking it out. The spinach needs to be all picked outright and frozen. Rhubarb likewise. I'm afraid, looking at the apple trees bend under the weight of their apples, that if we have too heavy a windstorm before the apples are ripe that they'll break branches.

I also have currants. Not enough to make jelly. I'm tempted to make a couple of bottles of wine or cordial or something. What do you think? Shall I become a bootlegger?

Since it might be a hard winter by all accounts, I praise God for giving us all this food to put up. Now I've just got to actually get it all put up. Anybody want to rent a couple of children for a day or so, but stay in my living room while you enjoy them and I chop/peel/can/freeze/ferment? I can almost promise one of them will be happy to sit nakedly on a potty chair the whole time, and the other will burble spit bubbles at you from a blankie on the floor. Guess which is which.

Cheers,

Breanna

Remembering

I received the following email and thought I'd do the author one better:

Remember -



We're hearing a lot today about big splashy memorial services. I want a nationwide memorial
service for Darrell "Shifty" Powers.

Shifty volunteered for the airborne in WWII and served with Easy Company of the 506th Parachute Infantry Regiment, part of the 101st Airborne Infantry. If you've seen Band of Brothers on HBO or the History Channel, you know Shifty. His character appears in all 10 episodes, and Shifty himself is interviewed in several of them.

I met Shifty in the Philadelphia airport several years ago. I didn't know who he was at the time. I just saw an elderly gentleman having trouble reading his ticket. I offered to help, assured him that he was at the right gate, and noticed the "Screaming Eagle", the symbol of the 101st Airborne, on his hat.

Making conversation, I asked him if he'd been in the 101st Airborne or if his son was serving. He said quietly that he had been in the 101st. I thanked him for his service, then asked him when he served, and how many jumps he made.

Quietly and humbly, he said "Well, I guess I signed up in 1941 or so, and was in until sometime in 1945 .. . . " at which point my heart skipped.

At that point, again, very humbly, he said "I made the 5 training jumps at Toccoa, and then jumped into Normandy . . . . do you know where Normandy is?" At this point my heart stopped.

I told him yes, I know exactly where Normandy was, and I know what D-Day was. At that point he said "I also made a second jump into Holland, into Arnhem." I was standing with a genuine war hero . . . . and then I realized that it was June, just after the anniversary of D-Day.

I asked Shifty if he was on his way back from France, and he said "Yes. And it's real sad because these days so few of the guys are left, and those that are, lots of them can't make the trip." My heart was in my throat and I didn't know what to say.

I helped Shifty get onto the plane and then realized he was back in Coach, while I was in First Class. I sent the flight attendant back to get him and said that I wanted to switch seats When Shifty came forward, I got up out of the seat and told him I wanted him to have it, that I'd take his in coach.

He said "No, son, you enjoy that seat. Just knowing that there are still some who remember what we did and still care is enough to make an old man very happy." His eyes were filling up as he said it. And mine are brimming up now as I write this.

Shifty died on June 17 after fighting cancer.

There was no parade.

No big event in Staples Center.

No wall to wall back to back 24x7 news coverage.

No weeping fans on television.

And that's not right.

Let's give Shifty his own Memorial Service, online, in our own quiet way. Please forward this email to everyone you know. Especially to the veterans.

Rest in peace, Shifty.

"A nation without heroes is nothing." Roberto Clemente

War is, I think everyone would agree, a result of the fall of man. Seldom have there been any wars where it's easy to tell the bad guys from the good guys, especially after having sixty years to cool off in. But I think that anyone who studies the history of the second World War will, if they approach the issue with an open mind, agree that the bad guys and the good guys are unusually starkly painted. The valor, humility, and selflessness displayed by the Allied soldiers should humble, inspire, and rebuke us. The breathtaking, almost casual wickedness displayed by Hitler, Stalin, and Mussolini should warn us.

A generation of young men fought and died to free and protect people they had never met, in countries they had never before seen, the languages of which they usually couldn't speak. They don't brag about their accomplishment. They didn't have counsellors to go to when they got home for their post-traumatic stress. They simply went across the ocean, did their job, and then came home and had families and careers.

Do me a favor and next time you see an old man with an American Legion cap on in a restaurant, buy his meal for him. Shake hands with the fellow selling poppies on Veteran's Day and thank him for his service. Call the veterans in your own family and thank them. Watch Band of Brothers (without the kids) and reflect on the fact that all those events really happened.

And then do me the favor of remembering that five U.S. soldiers died in Afghanistan on the same day that Michael Jackson died. Pray for their families. Heaven prevent me from presumption, but I will venture to say that any one of those men was worth ten of Michael Jackson.

So, to any veterans reading today, thank you. And thank you. And thank you.

Breanna

A Slovenian A Capella Group!

But it's cool! In spite of everything inherent in the name!

Enjoy (thanks Dad).

Breanna

Paid In Full

It is an unhappy fact that no matter where you go in this world, you will run across the sort of person who makes you think, "ah, this is why my toaster has to have 'do not immerse' written on it." Just go shopping on a Saturday and you'll see what I mean.

The Husband and the babies and I went out yesterday, in search of a small air conditioner to make our bedroom less like a Babylonian furnace, but alas all we could find was gigantic units that are meant to be stuck in a hole in the wall, ominously knocking units with hoses that are meant to dangle out the window, and little fans that looked like they were designed to chop off baby fingers and toes. They were all being looked at, it seemed, by the same three people, wherever we went--a girl in flip-flops and almost nothing else, a guy who thought that it was a concession that he was wearing a shirt at all, and someone of either gender who was the afore-mentioned toaster-caution person. So we went home, waded through the dead bodies of Nebuchadnezzar's guards that lay piled in the doorway of our bedroom, took our pillows, and camped out in the basement last night.

Today we are being thankful that we have a basement to go into. It could always be worse.

As was demonstrated today in church, when a gentleman got up and related how his wife had been injured in a serious bike accident (I'm assuming there was also a car involved) a month ago and had required a lot of hospital care. Then the roof blew off their barn; he flooded their kitchen because he was (understandably) distracted while washing dishes, and shortly after the missus arrived home, he recieved a bill from the hospital for $40,000. Which is actually cheap, considering how long this lady had to be in the hospital, but it might as well have been $4 billion for the likelihood that this family could ever pay it.

People prayed. God is powerful. This week the family recieved a letter from the hospital (having filled out their "financial assistance" paperwork) informing them that they should consider theier $40,000 as "paid in full".

This gentleman pointed out that never in his life had the parable of the rich man and the unforgiving servant--the one who had everything forgiven him, but then refused to forgive others--or the concept that Christ had paid our debt in full ever meant so much to him.

As for me, it made me quite contrite when I thought about how grumpy a little heat and loss of sleep could make me. It could always be worse.

And God is good. He let even grumpy old me get a good rest last night, after we finally gave up and moved everybody, kit & caboodle, down into the guest room. (Miss Boo had a "special bed" on a camping mattress on the floor and Brother sleeps in a portable bed anyway.)

At any rate, I thought some of you might enjoy that "paid in full" story. (The lady is back home now and doing great.)

Ciao,

Breanna

P.S.
What is a caboodle?

It's Too Dang Hot

Life is sometimes better without a thermometer. You can't tell how hot you are INSIDE.

Brother has decided to adopt the "I'm an overheated rabbit stretching out as far as I can" strategy.

Miss Boo has been trying to figure out a mathematical way to cool the house off with her new magnet number set (don't tell her she could just open the fridge and make a little tent, Homer-Simpson-style).

Mama has been trying to come up with food that doesn't require heat to make it edible. Green beans, almond butter, cheese, and bread anyone?

Even the dang dog figures he'd be better off outside. But only until he gets outside. Then he remembers why he wanted to be inside. For a few seconds. Then he forgets again and wants to go outside, because it might be cooler.

And now, judging from the nearly visible miasma rising from the seat of Miss Boo's pants, I'd better go pay some attention to a diaper.

Ciao,

Breanna

Back to Ranting

That's not America! That's not even Mexico!

--Homer Simpson

Well, if that isn't smiley-faced facism.

--Glenn Beck

Can you guess what we're going to talk about today, ladies and gents and kids of all ages? I include the kids, since it's going to be their debt slavery, too.

(Before we go on, I should say that I took this photo off a website that I couldn't get the URL to paste over for. If the photographer happens to see it and object, I'd be happy to take the picture down, but I didn't mean to take it without credit. However since I think I have a readership of 6 or so, I don't think that it'll be a real big problem.)

We are, as you thought, talking about Universal Health Care today, since the political ads have begun urging you to call your congressmen with a variety of urgent and twitterpated messages. We're not so much discussing whether or not PBO's plan is a good one--it's not really articulated enough for that to be argued in any meaningful way--but whether the very concept of Universal Health Care is a good idea.

First, in any discussion but especially in ones with a lot of emotional tinder, we should define our terms. What do we mean by "Universal Health Care"?

Universal-- we don't, I take it, mean that we're providing health care to the literal universe, since we don't even know how big the universe is or if there's life on other planets. I don't believe we even mean that we're providing health care for the whole world, since most Americans, even in Congress, expect Norway, for instance, to be able to fend for itself. I think that most Americans assume that by "Universal" we mean "everyone in the USA".

This becomes problematic, however, when you attempt a more precise definition. Do we include foreign students who've come here to study? Illegal immigrants? Resident aliens? Do we require at least citizenship to access "universal" health care? Let's be charitable and assume so.

Health-- of what? Physical? Mental? Spiritual? It's to be hoped the government won't, at least, interfere with the third, but what about the second? (I've seen a state mental hospital; I'd rather take my chances, I think, with getting mental health care from the people who try to sell you pirated Japanese DVDs on street corners.) I think most Americans assume that the government will provide for physical health; let's continue our charity and assume that they will also provide treatment for, say, anorexia nervosa or paranoid schizophrenia.

Care--*snarf* HA!

Sorry. Excuse me. Back to defining. Presumably what we mean by this is that someone, somewhere, will "take care" of us. Though what is scarier than a government reassuring you that they are here to "take care" of you is difficult to imagine. Let's be still more charitable and take the word in the sense it's commonly used: necessary treatment and comfort measures.

So, is Universal Health Care a good idea?

Not really, but I think we're going to get it anyway, if for no other reason than "all the other countries let their kids do it."

We've decided that by "Universal Health Care" we mean "Necessary treatment and comfort measures for physical and mental disorders provided for each citizen". Most people think this is a good idea for somewhat fuzzy reasons; there is an idea that people have a "right" to health care.

The sort of ethics used to frame the debate is called utilitarianism, which is making decisions under the criteria of "the greatest good for the greatest number". Aside from the problematic fact that utilitarianism doesn't define what "good" is, it certainly doesn't provide a framework for the idea that people have a right to health care. It might prove to enhance the "good" of numerous others, for instance, if people with incurable diseases (or merely expensive ones) were euthanized instead of treated, thus freeing up time, money, and medical resources for others who presumably deserve them more by virtue of being young or having appendicitis instead of cancer. The euthanized, under this framework of reasoning, didn't have any sort of right to health care.

Actually, the reason most people think that everyone has a right to health care is because most people have fragments of Judeo-Christian ethics still rattling around in their consciousness. It's Christianity that teaches that individuals are important, that physical suffering is worth allievating (although it will never be eliminated), and that even people dying of cancer or living long years profoundly mentally retarded are worth treating and comforting. These are ideas that create the idea that everybody deserves health care; it's no accident that many hospitals began as religious institutions.

So why do I think, if Christianity says that everyone should be cared for, that Universal Health Care is a bad idea? Because the government is doing it.

In the Christian idea, health care is provided by individuals, or, collectively, by the church. Even in our current medical system this is a problem: why do we, for instance, routinely birth and die in the hospital? Most deaths are not materially helped by hospitalization--medications and comfort measures could be maintained much better at home. Most births, likewise, don't require hospitalization. There are large and eloquent arguments against both of these situations.

In the current, secular government idea of Universal Health Care, health care is provided and centrally planned by the government. That they have made giant quagmires of every other private enterprise they've taken over and tried to centrally plan is, for the moment, irrelevant. The point is that centrally planned healthcare almost has to be run on a utilitarian basis, since individual evaluation and individual treatment plans become almost impossible to implement. I have no doubt something called an "individualized treatment plan" would be required after the flaws in the system became evident, but as I imagine it would have to be written on a government form in order for a physician to get paid, one thing it would not be is individual. As money ran lower and lower (at the moment there has been no clear explanation of how all this would be paid for), utilitarian ethics would inevitably take over. The officals in charge of the decisions wouldn't even have to be particularly evil; it's easy to make wicked decisions when instead of looking at people, you're looking at numbers. From there it's a short step to policies that, for instance, pay for "patient choice euthanasia" but require the patient to pay for radical chemotherapy out of pocket.

Don't I want people to have health care? Do I like things the way they are?

Of course not, but it doesn't fix one wrong thing to do another thing that's even more wrong. At least the current crappy medical system doesn't increase our government dependence or our national debt slavery any further. The arguements I've been hearing about health care are the same ones that have bothered me before about bailouts and Patriot Acts--"there's no time, if we don't act now, it'll be too late!" This is the classic line of all hucksters and tyrants, and I see no reason not to suspect it now.

Well, Miss Bossyboots, what would you do about it?

Take the government out of it altogether and outlaw the concept of private insurance.

*GASP!* But how would people pay for their medical care?

Well, at first it would suck, yes. I'm afraid it's going to have to suck at some point anyway, since the structure we're building up in healthcare is like one giant, huge, horrible housing bubble that hasn't burst yet. But you can't get away from supply and demand (even in a socialist or fascist setup)-- you can get on top of them or be squished under them, but you can't get away from them. I think a much better idea than national health care would be to make it legal for each individual citizen to have a private, TAX FREE savings account similar to an HSA, and then let the market take over. The cost of health care would HAVE to go down to what the market can bear.

A number of other problems would solve themselves as well. A good bit of our medical costs in this country are for unecessary things--butt lifts, antibiotics for colds, and Botox, just to name a few. If folks had to pay for these things themselves and could see each dollar leaving their account, they might think twice. Doctors might have to get more creative about treating depression and other illnesses and not rely so much on prescription medications. Illegal immigrants would have a harder time accessing health care without exposing themselves as illegal, making illegal crossing into the U.S. at least a little less attractive. Businesses, freed of having to provide their employees with insurance, would be able to pay them more in actual dollars.

It'll never happen, of course. For one thing, doctors wouldn't get paid nearly as much, and thus their med-school debts and malpractice insurance money wouldn't be feasible. Universities and insurers, among others, have a vested interest in seeing that physician care stays expensive. The AMA would never stand for reduced physician prestige and pay. And nobody will ever have the guts to stand up and propose something in the U.S. Congress that would get them accused, among other things, of pandering to the rich, hating immigrants, wanting people to get sick and die, and of caring more about money than people.

So what do I think will happen?

I think we'll get some morphing version of Universal Heatlh Care that will work like a Yugo. Health care will stay expensive. The fund, whatever it is, won't be able to keep pace with costs that are not allowed to have real market controls on them. Individual people will find themselves booted off of employer insurance and shunted onto government insurance--because which employer would keep an expensive plan if their employees can automatically get on a government plan? especially when they'll be fined if their employees are underinsured?--and they will almost certainly find the government plan to be crappier. The Canadian oxymoron of a ten-month waiting list for maternity care will become our reality.

Instead of increasing the normal person's access to health care, such a plan will decrease it. People will once again be treating themselves, having babies at home, and dying at home, not out of choice and not with any support, but simply because they can't get to the hospital when they want to.

You heard it here first.

Breanna

Back to Boring

Thank goodness. :)



Don't get us wrong; we love to have company and we wouldn't trade it for the world. But at our age, naps are something worth scheduling and looking forward to. And Mama isn't just saying "our" in the sense that mamas usually say it. She really means it this time. (Why is she talking about herself in third person?)

Brother decided to wake up and keep me company this morning during Miss Boo's nap. He felt, I think, that I might be lonesome. He's kind-hearted that way.

It's a gray, thundery, breezy drizzly day here, which is good for the garden but not so much for laundry, which is what we are trying to accomplish on account of how we're all out of diapers, underwear, and Good Pants. (You all know what I mean when I say that everyone has Good Pants and Other Pants.) But we are just enjoying the quiet, accompanied only by the gentle thump of the dryer, and the whistling of the birds in between the thunder. It's dim enough today I believe they think we're having a really, really long sunrise.

I don't know how I thought I'd take pictures during Brother's dedication, since I was on stage holding him, but I know that Opa took pictures and so I shall plagarize some of his. You can expect to see them as soon as I manage to steal them from him. Until then, I'll just have to say that the dedication was lovely, the day was not too hot or too cold, and it was such fun to have everybody there!

Brother is falling asleep in the crook of my elbow as I type this, so I shall call that good for my first day back in the saddle and go lay him down in his bed.

Cheers,

Breanna

Company

We have some. So don't be expecting posts until after the dedication.

Ciao,

Breanna

But, Why Male Models?

Don't get me wrong. My son is way cuter than Derek Zoolander, who also said "Moisture is the essence of wetness" -- but we had a photo shoot in Brother's dedication outfit today, at grandma's request. Here is the play-by-play:

Why did you make me get all duded-up when I don't like to wear shoes OR buttons?

Touchdown. (What do you mean this isn't for Sports Illustrated?)

The camera looks funny.

YOU look funny, Mama.

The official dedication shot.

(Whew! We got through without pooping or burping on the outfit! Score one for Mama.)

I'll have some pics of the actual service for ya'll after Sunday.

Cheers,

Breanna

A Better Day

A couple pictures say it all:


(Yes, that's a crib sheet he's under. Miss Boo picked it and brought it to me. Why not? It's just as warm as a "mankie.")

Thank You, thank You, thank You Lord, for babies napping 1) at the right time 2) at the same time.

I actually had a moment to breathe today. God is good.

Cheers,

Breanna

Robbed by a Little Old Lady in a Motorized Cart

In case ya'll have been having a day like ours...

Lloyd & Harry always have the perfect summation.

Cheers,

Breanna

ZZzzzzzz....

...*snarf* *blink. blink.*

What does it say if it takes your baby 1 1/2 hours to fall asleep? Every night? For a week?

It says that you're a silly, silly, mother who forgot about the two-year-old molars, that can sneak in anytime between 18 and 24 months.

It says that you got all frustrated with your poor, teething child before thinking of the ibuprofen and snapped out things like "Stay on your bed! You're not allowed to sit up!"

("Not allowed to sit up?" Are mothers allowed to select which phrases their own children will secretly whisper, "I'm never going to tell my kid that..."? {Mine was: "I'm never going to tell my kid to turn their socks right-side out before they put them in the hamper. And I'm never going to do it when I have my own house." And I don't. But I do think I'm kinda silly for it. It's just a thing of mine, like how I have to eat my M&Ms sorted by color.})

It says that you're as chastened tonight as a sleepy zombie can well be. Stupid molars. Poor little Miss Boo. And this is the week that the Husband has to be to work early to cover for some senior guy because the Husband is all awesome and stuff and they trust him to Supervise Others.

Sigh. I'm not sure if I trust me to Supervise Myself. It's been a rough night.

Pray for us all, will you?

Thanks.

Breanna

Happy Independence

Miss Boo found some stickers. They're supposed to be for your calendar, if you're too lazy to write "service car" or "haircut".

We found a better use for them.

Especially the flag ones.

Mama got a sticker makeover too.

It was naptime by the time the stickers began to lose their allure. Where was Brother during all this?

He had to get in a rest before his nap.

Cheers,

Breanna