You'll Shoot Your Eye Out

Somebody (me) thought it would be a really great idea if Santa brought nerf guns and ammo for all the kids for Christmas. After all, what says 'family fun' more than a good ol' gun fight??

Tonight as I stood at the sink doing dishes, I was nailed in the eyeball by a nerf 'bullet' by my four year old. Seriously, what are the odds???? Did I mention that my eye was open and that she wasn't aiming at anything, but that she accidentally pulled the trigger FROM FIFTEEN FEET AWAY?! How does that happen?? Anyhow, I am recovering nicely and I can still see. Phew. But really, it hurt!

As for the family fun that I mentioned? Oh how I wish I could post pictures. Our hard drive desperately needs to be replaced and until then, I can't upload any pictures onto my computer. Well, I take that back. I can, but it takes more than two full days during which time I have no access to my computer. sigh. It'll be getting fixed soon.

Back to the family fun. Tonight the family room had been seriously rearranged. As in the chair was in front of the front door, the love seat was moved into the middle of the room, both being used as bases from which one could somewhat safely reload their guns. We had two teams. Huz and the littles against BoyOne and One. I was the photographer. Rules included being able to use any ammo that had been shot (we have actually labeled all the ammo with everyone's names to prevent, as much as possible, ammo unfairness), faces being off limits and climbing on furniture acceptable. There was lots of Mission Impossible moves (jumping over couches and banisters, rolling across the ground, two handed gun shooting, etc.), laughing, and loudness.

Good times:)

I need to add how proud I am of Huz for INSTIGATING this. Usually he comes close to a nervous breakdown when he gets home from work and we're having the world cup in the family room. Super impressed Huz!! Super impressed.

I would also like to make note that BoyTwo has had actual possession of his gun for less than ten minutes since receiving it Christmas morning due to his obsession with purposely shooting people in the face...

Deck the Halls

I can't remember if I had been running errands or cleaning a bathroom, but either way I distinctly remember walking into the family room and feeling like I was watching a Chevy Chase movie.

Fake tree had been brought upstairs from the basement and was being decorated. The branches had not been spread or 'fluffed'. Two of the four sections of lights on the tree didn't even work. It was evident that the kids did not think we had enough decorations because they were pulling things out of cupboards and drawers. Anything they could find that would stay on the tree was going on the tree.

ornaments.

candy.

baby rattles.

shower curtain rings, shaped like ducks.

earrings.

old candles.

hair accessories.

HELP!!!!!

In a crazy whirlwind they moved to their next project: wrapping a hideous hodge podge of non-matching Christmas lights around the banister and up the stairs. They then draped the lights, banner style, from post to post. There were five strands of lights. Two were 'twinkling' lights. The other three were solid lights. Out of the two twinkling strands, only 1 1/2 worked. Out of the three solid strands only 1/2 worked out of two.

I sat on the couch and put my head in my hands and bent over, head and hands in lap.

I heard Huz say to the kids that they needed to wait to finish decorating while he tried to exchange some of the light bulbs. The boys thought that if they yelled enough or hit the lights enough or tried every. single. electrical outlet that certainly all the lights would magically start working.

My head came up.

"No," I said, "it's either got to be all trashy or not at all. It's got to be clear that we let the kids do this. It can't at all look like we were involved in this Christmas disaster!"

I did NOT want anyone thinking we had somehow tried and failed miserably!

Bah Humbug, I know.

The next day I pulled myself together and purchased enough working lights (all solid) to cover the banister and railings. The kids rewrapped the stairs, and Huz fixed one of the two non-working strands on the tree. We left the ornaments as is and guess what?! The kids think it's the most beautiful thing in the world.

So even though we look a little (or a lot) Griswaldish, the kids will remember our house as being the most beautifully lit with the most fantastically adorned tree. And that's what it's all about right? RIGHT??? :)

The Dreaded Lesson

Thanks for all the encouragement for my little lesson. Here's an update.

Friday I got a call from the pianist. The soloist lady had called her to complain about the song I asked her to sing!! Can you believe?? If it is really, truly that big of a deal to her, she should have just told me a flat out no, which I eventually decided she did in a round about way. So the very diplomatic pianist suggested a different song and told me that the soloist had told her that she would sing whatever she, the pianist, chose. Fine. I actually really like the other song a lot. I just had to REDO my lesson to fit it in. Whatever. I put on my big girl panties and did it.

And then in the middle of a Christmas party Saturday night, I get a phone call (which I did not answer) from the pianist. I already knew what she was going to say. Do you know what she said? Bet you can guess.

Yep.

That's right.

Soloist didn't like that song either. Later, after the party, I called the pianist back. She told me that she had asked the soloist to just pick a song. That seemed to appease the soloist who had said, hear this,

'It's not like people are going to be able to follow along with the lesson anyhow.'

Being in the fragile state that I am, I was slightly offended. Is she implying that my lessons are difficult to follow? Is she implying that I don't present well? At this time I sent a text to my friend who is in charge of conducting the meeting and told her that I was not going to be there, to just sing Christmas songs the whole time.

But then I remembered that I had put on my big girl panties and redid the lesson yet again to incorporate the song.

It was about 10:30 p.m. when I finished.

This morning when I got to church bright and early to put programs together and set up, I realized I had left my music at home. (For one song I was going to play a recording.) Huz raced home to get it for me. And then took the time to move gingerbread houses and let the dog out before he came back. When I tried to pull the song up, it had been deleted off my ipad. GRRRR. No problemo. I'll just down load it again. Except we couldn't get any internet connection!! So, I read the words. Lame. Oh well, what do you do. Everyone was soooo nice and made a point to tell me how wonderful my lesson had been which leads me to believe that it wasn't really that wonderful. Because let's face it, it wasn't. And when people go out of their way to make you feel good about something that you know was absolutely mediocre, you know they are just trying to be nice. On a bright note, we found out that the internet connection at our building does not work so now we can have it fixed...

BoyOne has been asking me for a hair cut for about two weeks. I finally had some time last night after finishing my lesson so we headed into the bathroom. I had him describe to me the cut he wanted. He asked for the area on the top of his head (imagine the area that the little Jewish hat, the kippah, would cover) to be cut to about 3/4 inch with the remaining hair on his head to be left long.

Sorry Charlie. No can do. Two reasons. 1) He would freak when he saw how ridiculous he looked, 2) He would look ridiculous.

I told him that this wasn't a popular look in America and suggested a couple other cuts. He insisted that his friends had their hair cut like this. I knew he was full of crappola, so I told him to tell me the names of these friends with this haircut so I could visualize what he was describing. He had no names to give me. I told him I could not do that haircut because I wasn't sure how to. I was trying to be nice. I should have just told him he'd look like a dork, or just done the haircut and LET him look like a dork. But, I said what I did and he. was. pissed.

He didn't talk to me again until tonight at about 8. All because I would not cut his hair. Holy act like a baby!!! He was all sulky and wouldn't eat. Too bad, so sad for him. We went ahead and ate without him. I am not going to play his dumb little games. He is such a grump when he wants to be. Why would anyone choose that way of life? I just do not understand. GAH!! It is so annoying. Just remembering how annoying it is is making me feel annoyed.

To end the weekend, we helped several kids finish the following projects: a report, scenery for a play, and science vocabulary definitions and drawings.

I have a friend who has ten kids. Nine of them are still at home.

HOW IN THE WORLD DO YOU DO IT????

She is my hero.

BoyTwo is in a five point harness car seat. It's actually been really wonderful knowing that he will be staying in his seatbelt and not climbing around, opening doors and goofing off while I drive. Phew. We're all a little safer now.

BoyOne had a first about a week ago. He used a hand mixer for the first time. He loved it. So far all of my kids love to bake and cook like I do. Except BoyTwo, who I have not given the opportunity to for safety reasons. By the way, he still touches the stove e.v.e.r.y single time it's on. And yes, he knows it is on because it is bright red with a pan on it. And yes, every time he yells 'OUCH!' He doesn't learn by experience. I know a couple of things that this could be caused by. We'll have to wait to see if it's just him being Stitch, or if it is an impairment.

venting

FYI: This post will be removed soon-ish. Just in case someone I go to church with happens to read this blog, which at this time, not a soul even knows about :)

So. I. am. stressed. As in I have hives and had a migraine the past two days. It's not one thing in particular, but I think just a combination of a few things. 1) BoyTwo, 2) all the rest of my kids, 3) I teach a lesson in church. And not just any lesson. THE Christmas lesson.

Let's talk about 3. I don't generally fret about giving talks or lessons. Every once in a while something will cause me to become a little, shall we say, freaked out. As I look back, the times I can recall feeling like this are all the result of the same problem. Too much information to cover. That makes me panic because I tend to assume that the leader who has assigned me these multiple topics has something swimming around in their minds and I feel the pressure of having to deliver this magical lesson they are envisioning.

I have been praying and studying for this lesson for over a month. You'd think I could pull it together, but no. Well, I've got a plan, but I'm not feeling it or loving it. Whatever. One of the key components to this lesson was to have 'lots of singing' and to include some people who do not generally have the opportunity to be included. I originally thought this a fine idea as I try to always incorporate that into whatever I am doing. I am supposed to be covering a five page talk (that doesn't include the footnotes), the actual Christmas story, and lots of singing. In thirty-five minutes.

So, two Sundays ago the pianist (who is a. mazing.) approached me saying that she had asked so and so if she would be willing to do a solo. I have heard this woman sing before and she has a lovely voice. She happened to walk up while pianist and I were talking. She agreed to sing and asked what we would like her to sing. Because I was kind of caught on the spot and had yet to really zero in on my lesson, I told her I'd need to look over what I had prepared and let her know what song, if that was okay. She said that was fine, but then suggested singing 'Away in a Manger.' I immediately knew that this song was not going to work with the lesson I had been assigned (nothing personal to the song, just didn't go with everything else), so I said something like, 'well, let me get home and look what I have outlined and I'll give you a call. If you are set on that song, of course we would love for you to sing it, but if you are willing, there might be another that we could use.' She said sure.

But she didn't really mean it.

I called and talked with her today and asked if she'd be willing to sing 'O Holy Night.' Here are the two things that have spurred on this entire post. First, she kept referring to me as 'dear.' I felt so patronized. Don't talk to me like I'm four instead of thirty-four and don't know what I'm doing. grrrrr. Second, and really I should just laugh at this, but because I'm stressed it just isn't as funny as it should be, she said,

"Really? (try to hear the sarcasm) I guess I could, but that's just such a boring song."

really???? Melodically speaking, the voice range of 'O Holy Night' is much more impressive than her original suggestion of 'Away in a Manger.' 'O Holy Night' is also an international Christmas hymn. I'm sure they both are, but come on. Singing 'asleep, asleep' over and over isn't exactly enthralling. Also, both are beloved Christmas songs.

I ignored the comment of the song being boring and just thanked her for being willing to share her talent with us. Then she asked again if I was sure that this was the song I wanted her to sing. You know the tone, 'well, if you're sure,' that you use with your kids when they are about to go outside in the 10 degree weather without a coat on. I told her that yes, this was the song and thanked her again.

I'm sure that it's the straw that is breaking the camel's back as BoyTwo had yet another stellar day at school today and there's like, oh, a million bazillion things to be done.

Sometimes you just need to vent.

p.s. why, oh why, can't I tell a short story??? It's just not in me...

Up The Ante

First a funny from Friday. At lunch I'm kind of popular. Everybody wants to sit by me and have me open their milk. It makes me feel special. The kids also ask me lots and lots of questions because I guess when you are the tallest one at the table, you know the most. So, this little buddy of mine asked me,

"So, how'd he (referring to BoyTwo) come out of you NOT English anyway?"

hahahaha.

Now for today. Heavy Sigh.

Friday, I, Billy Madison... I mean Stephanie, graduated from first grade. I was told that I no longer have to attend every. single. blasted. day! (there was much hugging and jumping for joy) Not that the kid is perfect, because let's be honest, he's not. However, he has made some notable strides (notice I didn't say huge) and the threat of a lawsuit from a certain parent has subsided. So, yeah. My days are free. Ish.

But then I totally jinxed life saying that BoyTwo hadn't been to the principal's office in four days and now, it looks like I'm being ungraduated. Here's the text I sent to Huz after picking the kids up from school today.

me: "BoyTwo had a bad day today"

Huz: "How was it bad"

me: "Wouldn't do his work, knocking down chairs, throwing pencils, yelling, all this same stuff w/ his aides and then he got in a fight and was sent to the principals office."

me again: "So, pretty bad"

Huz: "Yeah, I should say"

When BoyTwo climbed into the car he told me, "Mom! Today good job schoola!"

really? REALLY?

And then, because whatever I am thinking usually comes out my mouth unfiltered,

"really? REALLY? Mr. Principal good job, BoyTwo?"

him: "Maybe little bit (holding his fingers about a centimeter apart) no good. It's okay mom!"

It is not okay.

And then I came up with a game plan. He is totally cool with hanging out in the principal's office practicing his penmanship for hours on end. He doesn't love it, but it is totally doable for him. Evidently, it's time to change things up.

So, I dropped off the girlies, gave them a five gallon of ice cream to indulge on and told them to play on the computer and the wii and to most of all have fun and stay alive (their little jaws were on the floor. 'really mom?' 'is this a trick?' 'can we have a lot of ice cream?' 'do we have to set the timer for the screen time?' yes, I'm a freak.) and I drove little Mr. It's Okay Mom back to schoola.

I knocked all the chairs off the desks, threw all the pencils on the ground, and then he got to pick them all up. (don't panic, this wasn't done in a rage, just matter of fact. AND I made sure he was out of the way so he didn't get smooshed by a chair) Then, I had him clorox wipe all the desks and cabinets. Followed by the doors, pencil sharpener and the coat closet area because he was actually having fun wiping the desks off so I had to make sure he was getting tired of it. We wrapped up the evening by penning five apology letters. One to his teacher, two aides, class, and family. When we left at 6:45 p.m., we were the last ones there, along with the maintenance crew.

We'll see if this works. I hope it does because I really REALLY have better things to do than clean the school!! Or go to school, for that matter. Yes, I signed up for this, but I also have a pile of laundry the size of Texas that needs to be tackled.

As we got into the car to drive home, the song playing on the radio was Chumbawamba's "I Get Knocked Down."

"I get knocked down but I get up again. You're never gonna keep me down..."

The big question is who the song is referring to. Me or him?:)

Interesting aside, when I was twelve I went on a ski trip with a friend of mine, her dad and about ten older boys, her brother being one of them. One evening, they allowed us to play games with them. We played poker, which up until that night (because I was/am very naive) I thought literally meant a game in which you poke people. Anyhow, the boys patiently explained the rules. We began to play. Then, someone announced,

"Ante up."

Only it sounded like Annie up. And I stopped the game and demanded to know why we had to Annie up. Why couldn't we Jim up or Bob up? And that was one of many times I have had the chance to ponder the concept of THINKING before I speak.

Little Tidbits

Saturday morning when I woke up, there were five extra bodies in bed with us. Five!!! Our bed is not huge, only a queen, but somehow they all managed to wedge their way in. When BoyOne sat up and saw that nearly the entire family was in bed together, he smiled big and said, "Family!" So awesome.

BoyTwo pees sideways at the toilet. Way to increase the level of difficulty, buddy.

BoyTwo still, much to our poor noses dismay, continues to throw his toilet paper in the garbage. (this is what is done in their country)

Both boys say, "Shuppy door" instead of "shut the door."

BoyTwo has enjoyed dressing up... in One's old pink leopard print dance costume. ?!

When the missionary who had taught BoyOne bore his testimony at church, he said that he thought BoyOne's baptism had been very nice. Then he added, "horosho," which is "good," in Russian. BoyOne proceeded to give him a shout out of "horosho" back, right in the middle of the meeting.

BoyTwo still leans on the wrong foot when skiing, causing himself to fall over. Repeatedly.

When I attended 8th grade English last week with BoyOne to help ensure his participation, he was chosen to read aloud. At the end of his turn, he called on me.

BoyTwo asked me when he was going to grow boobs.

"Now Onny and Bonny and Wonny and Dance and Maka and Baka and Ninna and Finna."

Translation: Now Dasher and Dancer and Prancer and Vixen. On Comet, on Cupid, on Donder and Blitzen. By Four.

BoyOne calls Huz's grandmother Babushka 93 because that is her age and he can't remember her name.

When BoyTwo prays, he says, "Dear Hebbenly Fahbber."

BoyTwo made it four whole days without being sent to the principal's office. This was a goal for him and therefore a big achievement. The principal did have to make a personal visit to BoyTwo in his classroom one day so as to not disrupt the chain of excellence we were nearing, but we decided to forgive it. At the end of the fourth day, on the way out the door, BoyTwo just could not handle himself anymore and whacked a boy with his backpack. He immediately looked over at me and said, "mom, just a little hit. Principal no schoola!" Because he knew that the principal was not in his office, but out helping herd kids onto buses. Little stinker.

And for a first. Today, for the first time ever, BoyOne whispered. Can you believe it?! The boys do not have much self awareness and we have been trying to teach them how to whisper. Until now, they have been unable to hear the difference when they speak. Today during church, BoyOne asked me a question in a whisper though. I almost shouted for joy!! Not only because the one volume at which they speak is LOUD, but because this signifies a huge step for him in his development. Very exciting!!

The Outsiders Essay

For his English class, BoyOne had to write a paper on the book The Outsiders. (I know this should be underlined, but I don't know how to do this on blogger.) Anyhow, this is the third paper he has had to write. While still time consuming, this time around was much better! We had to tweak the assignment a little, given that he is reading the book, but not comprehending it. His assignment was this:

"Many of the children at your internat thought that life in America was very easy. Now that you live in America, do you agree with this? Why or why not? What are some things that are easier in America? What are some things that are more difficult in America?"

We are still working on coming up with his own ideas and expressing his thoughts and opinions. His writing assignments have to be posed as questions or else he does not know how to think about it. It also has to be directly about him. He is unable at this time to make comparisons or to relate obscure things to his own life. Thankfully, once I cornered him at the computer, this assignment took very little prodding. I am so proud of him for doing this!! There was still lots of complaining, but it was the type of complaining that is to be expected. Not the "I hate you and I'm going to make this as hard for you as it is for me" type of complaining. There weren't even any tears. We have seen so much progress. He also is beginning to understand the writing process. We have a form for him to follow. Here is what it says:

"1) the first paragraph tells what the entire article (the word essay doesn't translate by the way) will discuss

2) every article should have three ideas that it talks about. You will mention these three ideas in the first paragraph.

3) the second, third, and fourth paragraphs will be about the three ideas. each paragraph will discuss one idea. You will include supporting facts about your idea.

4) The final paragraph will end your article. You will say again what your main topic is. You will give the reasons that support this idea."

Here is what he wrote:

"In my boarding school kids say in America life is very easy, just sitting around and eating and sitting and playing on the computer. I think in America there are difficult things as well as in Ukraine.

"For example, in America my mom makes me help with laundry, do homework, and sometimes I say this is difficult. In Ukraine, a good mother, but in America, mother is better analysis and pays more attention to us, and Dad also. In America well, very easy to find.

"Also this I noticed in America, not all people are skinny. There are a lot of plump. This is because in America, many foods to eat and plenty of places in the house to save it. In Ukraine, smaller kitchen than in America. In Ukraine, many products are not stored the way we know and as easily.

"English language is very difficult and Russian, too. Also, I cannot learn English quickly, but I am trying to.

"Before I came to America I thought that my life would be very easy. It is different than Ukraine. Some things are much easier. Some things are still difficult. But I have the best and most beautiful mom in the whole world. Her name is Stephanie.

"When I came to America I thought that my life is very easy in America but some things just easier and some harder. I cannot first determine where it is difficult and where it is easier. America is better. And the BEST FAMILY!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

"@ I LOVE AMERICA@$"

When we were discussing ideas for his paper (brainstorming-new concept 12,382,983,479,238), I jokingly suggested that he mention how awesome I am. When I saw that he had included this, I laughed and told him he should not put this in his paper, but he said he wanted it in there. How's that for sweet:)

I think he did pretty great, don't you?!

How This Is All Possible

Last Saturday BoyOne was baptized. It was a great day. So many of his friends and family came to support him. This was important to him and made a big impact, as I don't think that he's ever known that kind of love before. Thanks to all of you for supporting him in the different ways that you do. We love and appreciate you so much.

The morning was great/crazy trying to get everyone out the door. BoyOne had gone camping with his scout group the night before and made it home in time to shower and get ready. He was bugged that I made him shower before being baptized. I guess he thought a dunk in the water would do the job. haha.

To start the program, we had our translator give the opening prayer in Russian. We really wanted BoyOne to understand what was being said and to feel the Spirit. We felt that this would help with both of those things and we were right. Our translator is awesome and we are infinitely grateful to him for the time he has taken to come and be with our crazy family while BoyOne was taught about the gospel of Jesus Christ. His influence and example to BoyOne is priceless. He sat by BoyOne the rest of the time to translate everything that was said.

Two of BoyOne's closest friends spoke during the program part of the baptism. These fourteen year old boys have made an enormous positive impact on our son and we are so grateful for them. They prepared their talks themselves and delivered them so well. Now I know at least one reason why we were supposed to move here.

At One and Two's baptisms, the girls all sang a song together and thus a tradition was born. So, at this baptism, the girls were prepared to sing this song once again. We sing this particular song all. the. time. It's a favorite for on the way to church or school, before bed and while doing hair. They know the words in their sleep. When it was time for the song, the girls came from all parts of the chapel we were in, they were each sitting with different friends or family members. One, Two, and Three were up front and waiting for Four. When she finally came up to the front, she came running down the isle, barefoot, hair streaming behind her. She climbed up on the stool that was in front of the microphone, grabbed onto the handle, and caught her breath, which meant we all got to hear her heavy breathing. It was funny. We also were able to hear Three try to shush her. During the song, the older three somehow managed to forget the words to this song, but Four pressed on. Classic.

We baptize by immersion and when Huz baptized him, BoyOne's knee popped up out of the water, so he was baptized again. BoyTwo thought this a fabulous event and gave a shout out to Huz. "Three, Papi!! Three!!" Afterwards, while still in the water, Huz hugged BoyOne, who then tried to splash water on him and get him wet. haha again.

Originally we had planned for Huz's father to give the closing prayer, however, BoyOne surprised us all by wanting to give the prayer himself. I'm sure it was a difficult thing for him to do, there were so many people in attendance and he is fairly new to the whole prayer thing anyhow. His prayer was beautiful though, and heartfelt. We are so proud of him. As I said in the post prior, he continues to surprise us.

The baptism was followed by a late lunch back at our house which, according to BoyOne, was "a big good job." Again, he's never had so many people care so much about him and his personal welfare. Ever. Plus, he likes food.

He finished his day by snowboarding with his friends. And watching a scary movie.

"Today big good job."

Speaking of scary things, both boys have been very 'scary' lately. That's what they call being scared. They believe in ghosts and witchcraft and zombies and tell us all the time about their Ukraine experiences involving these things. Generally speaking, Ukrainians tend to be a superstitious people, so you can imagine the attention these things are given. It's both saddening and maddening to hear these stories.

Speaking of stories, we have been hearing so many from both boys about their pasts. My natural instinct as both a human being and their mother is to want to be able to say something or do something to try to make things better or to make them go away, but the reality is that these things happened and it is a very real, raw part of their lives. A part that I wish we could just delete or make go away. As I think about these things and try to figure out what I can do to make it all better, I know that I cannot do anything. That's a little discouraging knowing you can't just fix something. It's also a little scary not knowing how these things will affect the rest of their lives. As I ponder, I realize that I DO know the answer to making all of this better. It is the gospel of Jesus Christ.

I had the opportunity to bear my testimony in church the day after the baptism. I hadn't planned on doing so, but as I sat there, I was overwhelmed with the knowledge that the atonement of our Savior, Jesus Christ, can remedy the broken things in this world. Not only can He help, He wants to help, it is the sole reason He came to earth. To look at where we are right now, versus oh, say, mid-September, is nothing short of a miracle. Go back and read. You'll agree. The entire process of getting the boys here, having them here, and watching how their temporal and spiritual lives have changed and continue to change is miraculous. And it is not anything that we have done. The only way that any of this was made possible is through a very loving Heavenly Father and Jesus Christ. They are the reason we chose to adopt. They are the reason we were able to adopt. They are the reason we were able to get through the adoption, the reason that it actually and finally happened. Because of Them, the boys are grateful for snowmen, mandarin oranges and being safe while they sleep. Because of Them they have a reason to believe that they have worth as human beings. They make it all possible. Not for one second do I believe any of this could have happened without Them. Not for one second.

And if all of that wasn't enough to convince you, BoyOne, of his own accord, chose to share his testimony in church also. He did so in his native tongue. Although the words he spoke were only partially understood by me and one other woman in the congregation, the Spirit that was present was felt and understood by all. Him standing there, testifying of Jesus Christ, having a family, feeling the Spirit, and then sharing it, that my friends, is the very essence of the gospel of Jesus Christ.

Dressed Up

Today BoyOne wore his infamous grey jeans to school today, as he does every. single. other. day.

What makes this day different, however, is that he wore his white church shirt and a tie also.

?!?!

This from a child who, at one time, refused to wear church clothes to church? Now, willingly and of his own accord, is choosing to wear them to school?

Shto?!

We're really not sure why he wanted to dress up like this today, but he assured us it was

"a big good job."

Way to keep us guessing, buddy.