Chatter

My camera is missing.

Again.

This happens every year or so, and it really really upsets me.

It also makes it hard to blog.

Poop.

Oh, man, it was bad, bad, bad.

Chip was gone on retreat all week in Chicago. He’s back now. I don’t really like to let people know when he’s out of town because I get a little freaked out thinking people know I am home alone with 4 kids.

I was sick most of the week, ending with a resounding hacking cough.

Apparently, no one from church knew he was out of town, because I kept getting phone calls.

Michael didn’t get the part in the play he auditioned for. :(

I’ve been really excited about the VP debate on Thursday night. I couldn’t quite figure out why. Then it hit me– my brain has totally melded Sarah Palin and Tina Fey, leading me to have expectations of snark and hilarity that probably won’t come true.

Ah well. Maybe there will be some unintentional funniness. A girl can dream.

1. You sing “Into the seat you go again, you have to every now and then!” when putting your baby in the mini-van.

2. When one child gets sent to time out, the other starts singing “No one mourns the wicked.”

3. When Daddy goes to work, everyone breaks into an impromptu rendition of the Goodbye chorus from 25th Annual Putnam County Spelling Bee.

4. You can’t bake cookies without listening to “Eating Cookies” from A Year with Frog and Toad.

5. You celebrate Stephen Sondheim’s birthday as a family.

6. Ditto Rogers. Ditto Hammerstein.

1. The three big kids and Daddy are at the Little League World Series Championships.

2. The baby is taking a loooooong nap.

3. I am drinking some fresh brewed iced Tazo black chai tea.

4. There’s a loaf of fresh bread being kneaded in the bread machine and

5. I survived another Sunday in church alone in a pew with a surly nine-year-old, a bouncy seven-year-old, an insane four-year-old and a baby who likes to bounce toys off the heads of the people in front of us while spitting. And I even sang a solo today!

So, tomorrow we return to a rhythm. We’re supposed to start school tomorrow–don’t tell the kids, but it’s going to be a reeeeaaally easy week!–and I should really be in bed. I feel like all our routines have gotten away from us–mornings, evenings, chores, cleaning, menus,everything! And I’m really looking forward to reigning everything back under control.

The blog is crazy. I keep trying new things and can’t settle on a layout. Or I try a new layout and it turns out there’s something that won’t work. So I’ll keep working on that this week as well.

Oh my goodness, it is sooooooo glad to be home!

We started out on July 27. Every year we get together with a group of college friends for the weekend. They started out as five guys singing together, and grew into a group of 24 with wives and babies and children! We had a wonderful weekend (mostly– details forthcoming about how a weekend of barbershop and gospel led to a new car.)

Why? Because someone moved my date book. *weeps*

Seriously, I can’t live without my date book.

I know all three older children have music camp every morning this week.

I know on Monday and Tuesday, Nick has early intervention “Stay and Play” in the early afternoon.

I know on Thursday, they have a picnic and are performing at a nursing home and on Friday they have a concert.

I’m reasonably certain they have a swim meet tomorrow, but the details elude me.

St Anthony, pray for me! I need that book…

To the person who clicked into my blog after googling “exhuasted pastor’s wife,” bless your heart. Feel free to comment or drop me a line if you need someone to talk to.

Seriously. I spent the day thinking it was Tuesday. That is, until I got a phone call from my friend Donna asking what about the LLL yard sale we’re supposed to be having tomorrow. And then Emily beeped in on that phone call to ask about the LLL yard sale we’re supposed to be having tomorrow at her house. And during that phone call, Amber beeped in to ask about the LLL yard sale we’re supposed to be having tomorrow.

So… um… yeah, I guess we’re having a LLL yard sale tomorrow. And it’s not Tuesday. Whoops.