This past week we had the wonderful privilege of having my family up from the wonderful land of Alabama. My 8 year-old-nephew, with his Dad's help, caught a catfish that we think weighed 10 lbs. To call the event exciting would be an understatement. I lost track of how many catfish my brother-in-law and I cleaned, but the boys are now convinced there are no more catfish to be caught in the pond. I keep telling them they are there, but since they haven't seen them during feeding time they think they're all gone. Explaining to them that the fish don't always come up and the five ones we always see (they have certain scars and markings) weren't the ones caught somehow doesn't translate into our/their limited vocabulary. Oh, and the tiny turtle Aleh caught, placed in the bathtub (which put them in a frenzy when Dad took a shower, only to discover Dad had placed their prize possession in a water-filled bucket) disappeared the next morning. The bucket of water was still in the laundry room, upright, on the dryer, but there was not a turtle to be found. He showed up tonight, almost four days later, in my bedroom. I was not happy. And of course, the boys laughed at me. (Of course, they seem to have forgotten that Tonya took their turtle outside during the night last year because she was afraid he would starve. Needless to say, it disappeared.)
And here's part of my crazy crew posing during good-byes with Naomi's family. I love my husband, I love my house, I like this area, but I absolutely hate being far away from my family. Every minute they were here was precious and prized. The kids have talked about Jamie and Mason quite a bit today, so I think they miss them, too.On a somewhat different note, Bobby's wheelchair has developed a bizarre reaction to KidsRKids. Wed night he went to church by himself (I was waiting on my parents to arrive). He came home almost 40 minutes later. (It takes us about 25 minutes to get there). One of the power chords on his chair had disconnected and he was unable to get out of the van when he arrived at church. The same thing happened again tonight. I guess I'll duct tape it together before bed tonight.
After three years of staying with us for 6 weeks, it finally registered in Tonya's brain tonight that Bobby was paralyzed. She noticed his halo scars and wanted to know what they were. We showed her the pictures from his time in the hospital. I think she was shocked. The boys figured it out their very first week that Bobby was unable to use his fingers (they tried to convince us that first year they didn't need to brush their teeth because Poppa couldn't - I think they were both intrigued and disappointed when we showed them his special toothbrush holder), but for some reason Tonya has been oblivious to it.
They've also finally figured out that we're the only "mean" host families: we make them eat their vegetables, read from the Bible, and from Narnia. That's been their latest excuse for why they shouldn't have to read. And they also tried to pretend read for the first time this week. Yet I know both the Bible stories and I've read Prince Caspian, so I know what names I should be hearing them say. They seemed shocked that I could figure their scheme out.
So far it's been a great summer. I'll post about the double-edged sword emotions another day. It's bed time, and there's still a few more things to do before the AM...sigh....
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