After four kids, ten moves and nearly two decades, we are still blissfully in love (most of the time) and I found myself back in the state I was born and raised in. It has definitely been a journey. In fact, on our 18th anniversary we pulled the last of our stuff up over the pass and into Montana, leaving our surprise love, Idaho, behind. But Montana is a great place. The last best place according to some. And we fully intend to explore as much of it as we can! Join us on our continued adventure through life, love and other stuff that comes with it.

Thursday, January 13, 2011

Moments with Calla

Today has been a funny day.  Mostly, Calla has been funny.  She'll be five in about a week and a half and she's just in a good place right now.  At least a much better place than she was a week or so ago when she was calling me mean and telling me that she has a bad family and storming around making me wonder what teenager-dom would bring. 

Anyway, a couple nights ago daddy caught her lying about brushing her teeth.  And if there's anything daddy doesn't tolerate, it's lying.  He was so mad he actually told her he couldn't talk to her about it and they were going to deal with it the next day after he got home from work.  He did.  They had a good talk as far as I can tell.

Tonite at dinner she brought it up and mentioned that she hadn't gotten into trouble. I told her that it's called Grace. 

Do you know what Grace is, Calla?


It's undeserved forgiveness. 


Daddy forgave you even though you deserved to be in trouble.  That's Grace.

Oh . . . Daddy, thank you for the gracing me. 

Daddy smiled and told her she was welcome.

Now to explain this happy picture.

This afternoon I went up to Calla's room and found a pile of dried rose petals in the middle of her bed.  Upon inquiry she told me that it was food for all the mice in the house.

Okay, but we're not feeding them right now.  We're putting them in this jar. 

She did.

Later she brought the jar down to the basement and was talking to Violet about spreading them all over for the mice to eat.  I had to intervene.

No, we are not spreading those all over my house right now.

Mom, you know what that is called?


It's called not being nice.  When you don't let me do what I want to do, it's called not being nice.

Oh.  Well, I call spreading those all over for the mice to eat making a mess that I have to clean up.

*silence and glaring followed by a light bulb moment*

I have an idea!

I'd love to hear it.

How about when I grow up and be a mom I can spread them all over my house for the mice to eat!

That's a great idea!

And I'll let my kids help!

That's a great idea, too!  Maybe I can come help too!

Yes! (jumping up and down) That is a great idea!  And my kids' grandparents can come!  Do you know who my kids' grandparents are??



Let's go tell dad! 

Dad agreed that it would be great fun.

Never a dull moment around these here parts.  And the lid on that jar is on REEEAAALLLLL tight.  Just to be safe.  We don't want the mice to get in there between now and when I get to go make a mess--err, feed the mice--at Calla's house with her kids--also known as my grandkids.  Because I'd be their grandma.  I've heard grandmas get to have all sorts of fun.

For the record, I haven't seen any mice in this house for several months.  Hoping to keep it that way.

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