TTT: Season 3, Episode 32

1. We had our first bout with summer sickness this week. Everybody gets a little sick at least once each summer, right? Like a little summer cold. No? Well for us it was a fun little baby virus called Hand, Foot, and Mouth Disease. It typically only afflicts littles aged six months to four years, and wouldn't you know it, all three of mine fit in to that category and all three picked it up. Grant was the first and the worst. You know this fella is sick when he actually sits with me and lets me cuddle him. When he's well, our cuddles last no more than five seconds. He woke on Friday morning with an obvious fever and nothing more. Poor guy, you could just tell he couldn't get comfortable. I went ahead and got him a doctor's appointment since it was Friday and I didn't want to get stuck on the weekend with an ER trip if things got worse. And sure enough, by the time we went to his appointment, he had a noticeable rash all over his feet, legs, hands, and even a little around his neck. The doctor swabbed him for strep but when it came back negative and his ears also looked fine, he checked his throat (which wasn't hard at all as Grant was wailing in sheer terror over the fact that I laid him down on the exam table) and he confirmed that is throat looked just like the rash he had elsewhere. By Saturday Reagan was also running a fever, though no rash. The two of them were finally cleared up by Monday and I assumed that Kolbe had dodged the bullet. But on Tuesday he too had a fever that just lasted one day. Now we are all finally cleared and healthy. And after a week and a half absence, we made it to the pool today! Call me selfish, but a summer illness that mama doesn't have to worry about getting isn't too bad after all!

2. As I've mentioned many times before, my shop has taken off this year in a way that I never could have anticipated. And due to it's growing success, it has really left me with very limited time to do projects for our home. We moved in last May, just weeks before Grant was born, and over the past fourteen months, I've spent the majority of my time caring for a new baby, taming wild animals raising two young boys, and managing my growing shop. Needless to say, though I look around my home day after day thinking of all the things I'd like to do to improve it's 'homey-ness," nearly all of it has gone un-done. Partially due to money, but largely due to time. (Not every home improvement project has to break the bank!) In fact, several of the projects I've been planning have already been bought and paid for...just remain incomplete in the form of cans of paint, piles of fabric, etc. I've already picked the colors, bought the supplies, and yet it sits undone as I certainly can't do it while the kids are awake and free time during the day is all spent filling orders from my shop. So I've decided that it's time for a little break. My little helper, Angelina, will be going back to school in two more weeks, so I'm going to utilize her help for the time being and then shut down shop for a week to tackle some projects. Hopefully by next week I'll have a clear outline of all I want to conquer, but for now, I'm just looking forward to actually doing some of the projects I've had planned for quite some time.

3. A few more days and the summer Olympics will be over. And, thankfully, I'll be able to return to my normal bed time! One of my favorite things that I've loved noticing in our boys as they've watched the games is their observations of the athletes. While they do take note of certain features such as long hair, baldness, tattoos, etc, they have yet to ever point out the color of someone's skin as his/her outstanding feature. For example, Rudy tells me the other night, "Hey Mama, that guy with the brown head is real bald." (referring to Usain Bolt...so obviously he's aware that Bolt is Black, but finds his baldness more notable.) And then from Kolbe: "She has a long pony tail like yours." (referring to Allyson Felix) My parents raised me well. They raised me to never ever even notice or consider a difference is a person based on their skin color. We lived in Germany, San Antonio, TX, Columbus, MS...plenty of places where we were exposed to people of different races. None, of course, can quite compare with our time in Mississippi. I remember walking in to a Burger King on our very first trip from Lubbock to Columbus and suddenly becoming very aware that the people in my family of seven were the only white people in the entire building. I told my mom "Mom, we're the only white people in here." And she replied with, "That's okay. That's just how it is in Mississippi." And that's just how it was. I quickly learned that not everyone was raised the way I was. In fact, most weren't. They were raised from very early on to notice a difference. To assume a difference in color meant a difference in quality. Lord, I am so thankful that I was raised to know better. To know more. To respect life in all shapes, sizes, stages, and shades. To know that people are people and my opinion of them should be based on their actions and words alone. And oh, I pray that my babies will feel the same way. So far, it makes me so happy to see that they quickly point out the fact that someone's accent sounds funny instead of the fact that his eyes aren't shaped the same as theirs. I'm certain that in time they will be exposed to opinions from others that don't matter, but I just hope that we will have raised them well enough to recognize the ones that do.

Snuggling with my sick guy...at least he still knows what "Say cheese!" means.

We had a nice rain shower on Sunday afternoon and once the thunder and lightening passed, we took the opportunity to play in the summer rain. The boys had a blast!

My handsome crew

Does this say 'summer fun' or what!?! Grant loved making mud pies!

Listening to thunder on the front porch...I can't believe my baby is almost five.

Even Grant has gotten in to the Olympics!

Working on their synchronized diving routine

My future Michael Phelps!

Kolbe, my little artist, loves working on pictures during his daily quiet time. After finishing a picture this week, he showed me where he had written "Pa" at the time, as Pa (my dad) was to be the lucky recipient. I told him we could hold on to it until the next time we saw Pa but he told me that he wanted to mail it to him instead. Thus begain our first lesson in envelope addressing. He was so proud of his first piece of out-going mail! I think I better stop by the post office and pick up some more stamps...he's ready to send Kolbe-grams to everyone!