Team Gray!

First it was Imani. She just didn’t want to get out of bed on Wednesday. She said her bed was warm, comfortable, and then she fell back asleep. Imani loves to eat, but on Wednesday, she didn’t eat at all. She drank lots of tea. She didn’t have a fever, and by night-time, her nose was really sore and congested. Thursday, Imani’s appetite slowly returned, and by Friday she just had a cold.

Friday night, Yanni had a basketball game, which we won!–our 4th game in a row, I might add! She came home hoarse and headed down. By Saturday morning, she just wanted to lay around all day, feeling cold and mostly not hungry. She didn’t have a fever either, and by Sunday, her appetite was mostly returned. Today she is coughing and blowing her nose, but otherwise feeling better.

This morning I bustled Xay out of the house for his math class, only to find that classes were canceled due to snow. I had other errands to run, and told Xay to shovel the mouth of the driveway, and the street in front of the driveway. When I got home, Xay seemed normal, but I looked over on the couch a little later and saw his elbow. Xay was lying on the couch, under the comforter saying he was cold with a sore throat. Here we go again. . .

I’m hoping Joy and Esteban don’t get this same strange illness.

I remember when a simple request for water would send me into a rage. I homeschool, and have five children home with me all day long. The three littlest children are unable to get their own cups. They ask for water all day long. And if you give them water, they often spill it. Or they carry it from room to room, losing their cups, so you must start all over with a new cup at every request.

Jesus said, “And whoever in the name of a disciple gives to one of these little ones even a cup of cold water to drink, truly I say to you, he shall not lose his reward.” (Matt. 10:42). So I was convicted about my anger about a simple cup of water.

And my anger was infectious. My older children also grew to resent the endless requests. Nobody was living for the blessing and the opportunity to serve each other; everyone was concerned about how ‘put out’ they were at having to serve one another.

I mentioned my struggle at a women’s Bible study. Nobody had any answers for me. I don’t think I could communicate properly how difficult it was for me to serve my family in the home daily. Most of the women in the group had careers; some weren’t married with children at all.

I felt alone in this walk. I prayed about it, and resolved to have a better attitude. To look at serving the children as an opportunity, rather than a burden. I resolved in my heart to put them and their concerns above my own.

Then I mentioned my struggle to my husband. He already knew that I had a problem with the constant requests for water. He told me that if he had been the one at home, he would have long ago purchased a water cooler and cups so that the children could get their own water. Bingo! I had never thought of such a thing. I took the children on a shopping expedition, and we found a container with a spigot on it, and I bought them their own box of Dixie cups. The little children were so excited to be able to help themselves! They began to show all their young visitors the water dispenser.

Sometimes the easy access to water means more little puddles on the counters and the floor. Sometimes they run out of cups. But this little step of independence for the little ones has outweighed any of the problems.

Today, my five year old asked me gently to refill the water bottle. I found it my pleasure to do that for her. And I thanked God.

This is part of the Hebrews 3:13 carnival at Womanly Pursuits Please join us!

I thought it was funny how my little kids spend so much time playing with old, discontinued dolls. Like Kenya, and her little sister Kiana. I googled Kenya, and found that she was probably discontinued around 1994. But she’s such a durable doll! Despite daily visits to the little girl beautytorture chamber parlor, Kenya and Kiana keep all their hair. And they don’t look crazy like most of the other dolls.

We still play with my favorite childhood doll, Birtha. She was a newborn doll from Mattel, complete with a birth certificate and hospital bracelet. I named her for the Irene Cara character in Roots the next Generation, Bertha. But, being 7, I didn’t know how to spell that beautiful name, so I wrote ‘Birtha’ in my neatest penmanship on her hospital bracelet and birth certificate. I chewed her big toe, beat her senseless, and even purposefully scratched her back, yet she endures. I tell my children to be gentle to Birtha, but I don’t think it matters—she is built for the long haul. (edited to add: I googled Roots the Next Generation and realized that I was old by the time that came out–12! So that doll was actually nameless, or, rather called, newborn baby, until 1979, when I named her Birtha. I still couldn’t spell at 12. So sad).

Look at this doll. This doll was heavily coveted one year after it was discontinued. So we had to go on Ebay to hunt her down. She wasn’t cheap, pricewise, but obviously she is cheaply made. She is a fraction of Birtha’s age, yet completely torn up. Notice the torn skin, the over teased hair. We keep her in the basement (because we couldn’t possibly throw her away, could we?), because she is so terrifying to us all.

These are the new dolls. Notice the varying degrees of love/neglect they all suffer. Note the homemade haircut on a birthday present at left. And this doll was decapitated a week after purchase.

Imani just earned this one on the left. He is the darker twin of a completely broken doll, on the right, whose legs are held on (just barely) with scotch tape.

I think this doll is funny because he is so retro. Notice the tiny head with the built in hair. Notice the shiny, unmatching skin. He was given to us by friends who thought they had a GI Joe doll, but found out he was a Ken doll, or more likely, Steven, the black guy name for Ken. He is much more durable than the new Stevens, though. He has no tape. He could be thrown across the room, dropped down the stairs and still be in one piece. (Yanni note: sometimes his head will just pop off at random).

Not like Brandi. This is our second injured Brandi doll. The first one starred in the X teem meets the Y team. Actually, this Brandi was in that movie, too. She plays the all patched up doll in the end. Not so anymore. She is missing an arm. I have a Brandi of my own still in the box. I know from experience how hard it is to find today’s doll tomorrow, so I’m holding on to her thinking she might be valuable some day. I am still kicking myself for not having bought the cheesy MC Hammer doll in 1991.

I remember when I was growing up, my mother would have us hide all the toys when our cousins came over. They would tear up everything in sight, and then look for more. Their mother swore by Fischer Price toys. I didn’t understand that then, because Fischer Price toys were really boring. And indestructible. Kind of like these Cabbage Patch dolls. They were actually given to the babies and still in one piece. They even manage to keep their clothes nice. They don’t keep their shoes or socks on, but at least they’re not bald-headed and naked.

I know I am way too into dolls. Blame my collecting them from a young age. I have tried to relax my standards and let my daughters actually play with their dolls. To a certain extent. I let them play with this one, but I really bought it for me.