Silly Cat

Quinn's been practicing his trumpet a whole lot lately, getting ready for Solo and Ensemble this weekend.  A certain trumpet case makes the perfect bed for our resident feline!

Overheard, In the Kitchen

The scene:  Mom, Dad and Quinn in the kitchen, because it's a snow day, and 2 out of 3 of these characters don't have enough to do.  Quinn is making himself some oatmeal.  The real stuff, on the stove, not the instant, microwave kind.

Dad:  "Quinn, if you're going to make oatmeal, you have to do it right, or it's a waste.  Your mom makes the best oatmeal of anyone I've ever seen, so ask her how to do it."

Quinn: "Dad, it's not hard.  Boil water.  Put in oatmeal.  Done."

Dad: "NO!  That's all wrong!  Ask Mom!  You have to know how much water to put in.  You have to boil the water first, then you have to cook it the precise amount of time to get it perfect.  SHE makes it perfect!  DO IT HER WAY!"

Quinn: "Dad, I'm not stupid.  I've made oatmeal before."

Dad: "YOU'RE DOING IT WRONG!!  ASK YOUR MOM!!"

Notice that Mom was silent during this whole exchange, quietly emptying the dishwasher, and thinking that both of these guys really needed to get out of the kitchen.  Finally, I spoke up.

Mom: "Rob, why don't you go in the living room, and I'll help Quinn make the oatmeal."

Dad: "Fine.  Because I'm giving you big props here.  You make the best oatmeal in the world, and you need to teach him how to do it right."

Mom: "Yup.  Thanks. Will do.  Buh-bye."

(after Dad's gone)

Quinn: "So?  How do you do it?"

Mom: "Put some water and oatmeal in the pot, and bring it to a boil.  Go away for awhile until you smell something burning and think   'OH!  I left the oatmeal on the stove!', and then go scrape out the portion that's not burned and stuck onto the pot. THAT'S how I make oatmeal."

Rob: "I HEARD THAT!"

A Sonnet, written by my son

Colby is a quiet dude, as far as what is going on inside his head.  Not quiet in GENERAL... just doesn't open up too much, and I KNOW there's a lot going on under all that hair.  Last night, he shared with me a poem he wrote.  A sonnet, he said.  I think it's lovely, and a little glimpse of his soul.

Questions.

Questions.

We all have the avidity

Obsessions,

In a state of morbidity

Who is The Mighty Architect, creator of mind and soul?

What was his catalyst, His impulse to create life?

Where did He come from, His ultimate goal?

How come to be, the earth and afterlife?

Why.

Why?

Answers.

We believe we know the resolution.

Advancers

When we condider the solution.

He is God, He is love, that is what is accepted.

To create you in His image, that is what is confirmed.

He came from Himself that what is expected.

It came as it came that is what is affirmed.

But Why.

Why?

Doubt.

Its perceived as denial

Drought.

Conflictions similar to a trial

By bearing ambiguity only a smidgen

Even if you've been faithful, truly.

Others it's mutinied thy religion.

For the lack of doubts, renew them coolly

O’ Why?

O’ Why?

Truth

I ponder as I gaze into the glittering, starry sky

Youth

You won't experience it, till’ you die

From seeds of doubt comes sprouts of trust

To shine of faith not doubts of rust.

He's going to be OK.

A mama worries.  She just does.  There's all kinds of temptations and influences out there for young men in this day and age - far more than we ever had to deal with growing up.  I pray daily for all my children, that God may help them develop into the people He created them to be, and lead them undeniably home to His presence.  But still... a mama worries.

The other day, I went into the boys' bedroom and lay down on Quinn's bed next to Colby to chit chat.  As we were on the bottom bunk, I noticed some items stuck in the slats of the bed above us.

"What are those?" I asked Colby.

"I don't know.  It's Quinn's bed," he replied.  HMMMM.  What could he possibly be hiding up there, under Colby's top bunk???

You know what I found, hidden in his bed?  Not what you might THINK is hidden under the bed of a teenage boy.  I found a prayer book, and the letters Rob and I had written him, telling him how much we loved and admired him.  THAT'S what I found hidden in his bed.

He's going to be alright.  The seed is taking root.

Thank you, Lord!!

A Spanish Weather Report... with dog

The Density of a Colby

The things they learn in highschool….

Overheard

….in the car in the way back from the pep band/basketball game tonight.

Colby:  “Reagan, you need to stop talking”.

Reagan:”No I don’t”

Colby: “Yes. You do. I’m your older brother.”

Reagan :”So?”

Colby: “Uhhh, I’m four years older than you!”

Reagan: “so?”

Colby : “ That means I’m older and smarter than you”

Reagan: “so?  I’m not following the logic”.

Colby: “.......”

I was having a hard time following the logic of that argument myself.