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Of Hobbits and Housework

Posted on Jan 5, 2015 by in Art, Faith, Family | 0 comments

My husband has been away.  He’s traveling in the wide world for all the best reasons, and we miss him.  Ben prayed for him as such:

“Dear God,

Please keep Daddy safe while he’s traveling.  Please don’t let it be like Jonah in Ninevah. Please don’t let him get taken to jail like before we were IMG_3069born.  Amen.”

“Before we were born” refers to Tim being arrested in China for distributing Bibles.

After praying that prayer, he ate a few bites of cinnamon roll, then gathered up the disjointed remnants and deposited them on Susanna’s plate crooning, “Because you’re sooooo cute, you can have these!”

Susanna gets a lot of leftovers, including the ones she scavenges herself from under her high chair.  I beginning to wonder if she isn’t scattering her own leavings to find later.

We’re doing ok, I think.  And by Ok, I mean that I likely consumed more stress-calories than all of Christmas,  but whatev’s.  It’ll come off when the time is right.

So far, we’ve had one broken mirror, one broken window screen, two splinters,  a couple of milk spills, and zero nightmares. The kids watched one movie per day and I think I only yelled twice. And apologized.   Win!

The kids have been great with helping out.  I used to fret a lot about chore charts and cleaning schedules–you know, most fretting because I wasn’t doing them.  But after we added Susanna, I have dropped that burden.  All the kids have to help, all the time.  Isaac is the one who tries the hardest to fly under the radar, piddling around pretend to move things.  When all else fails, I play music to get us going.IMG_3061

I’m kind of a musical doofus.  I forget how it can be a release valve, how much it helps diffuse tension, and I never know about anything new musically until it’s been out for ages and everyone else is tired of it.   After a little cleaning, Abby and I danced on the hardwood floor with Susanna and belted out Sara Barreilles “Brave” at the top of our lungs, especially this line:

Show me … how big your brave is.  

I let Abby and Ben sleep with me one night and before all the crowding and whistling snores and teeth grinding began, Ben gently scratched my back and Abby said, “I love you people.”

After I dropped off Susanna and Isaac with my parents, Abby, Ben and I watched The Hobbit.  Watcing a movie with Ben is actually heavy-lifting parenting. All those of you out there who have ever prayed for patience?  Watch out because you may mysteriously find yourself watching a movie with Ben.  He asks one.thousand.questions.  He can’t seem to tolerate the emotional tension created in movies so he writhes and squirms during love scenes or embarrassing moments and during suspenseful parts, he simply pours out his every thought into question form directed at me.  Then, when I answer a question, he follows up with a “So…” summary statement that has nothing to do with what I have just said.

Mom, is Bilbo going to die?

No, he’s not going to die; he is the main character.

So… main character never, ever die in any movie, ever, right?


Mom, are those spiders real?

No, there are no spiders that big in real life.

So… they just made like real spiders that big just to use in that movie, right?


Mom, is that guy a bad guy?

Yes, but they don’t know it yet.

So… he’s a good guy but then he’s just going to do some bad things and then go back to being friends, right?



But still, I feel a kind of parental satisfaction when he can correctly identify Radagast the Brown.



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