Suzy Q Homemaker

In the world of Clan Grant, there have been many things to note this week.  My children are, as always, the center of the randomness but I would be loathe not to mention my own personal achievements.  So stay tuned.

Corey came home with a clarinet.  He had decided long before he even started middle school that he wanted to take band instead of choir because he already sings with the church choir.  Not being one to want to push him in directions he doesn’t want to go, I left all the decision-making up to him.  Even the choice of instruments was completely in his hands.  I didn’t suggest any particular family of instruments either (I played both the flute and the French horn throughout my school years so it didn’t make much of a difference to me).  Personally, I love the sound of the clarinet and I hope he sticks with it.

Simon has made excellent progress in Kindergarten.  Pre-K was an absolute nightmare and he came home at least once a week with referrals.  I was also called to come pick him up on numerous occasions because of his insolence.  This year, he has been so well-behaved that I honestly think someone may have switched our little Imp with an angel.

Aiden.  Oh, Aiden.  That child is chock full of imagination and mischief.  I have several stories to tell that I’ll get to in some later posts.  They involve socks, rockets, and singing feet. In the meantime, I must post this picture he drew last night. (Click to make it bigger)

Timothy is slowly learning how to use the potty. I think he’s taking a break this week because he’s been all sorts of snotty. Allergies are running rampant throughout the household and I pulled two boogers the size of peas out of his nose this morning. When he is feeling more himself he is actually able to make it to the toilet. I’m quite impressed.

Jamie is busy. Busy busy busy with school, both his own that he teaches and the classes he just started at ASU. He decided to go back to get his Specialist degree so he can earn tons more money. Feeding four boys has turned out to be more of a drain on our bank accounts than the current gas prices.

Lucy and I have been fighting about her sleeping habits.  There was a laundry basket at the foot of our bed that I used to keep all my Zumbawear in back when I washed it every other day.  Of course, it was just sitting there with a mish-mash of other clothes but she was sleeping in it all the same.  So yesterday I pulled out her laundry basket (the one with all her kitty blankies that she hasn’t been using) and I put it in place of the other one.  Then she went out into the living room and climbed into a different laundry basket!  The nerve!  I decided then to wash all the blankets and put them back in the basket as if they were freshly-washed laundry.  I win.

Finally, me!  As of today I am done with my big ugly Cam boot.  I graduated back into my lace-up brace and have permission to drive again.  This is fantastic news for pretty much everyone.  I was bumming rides off of everyone I knew to get to and from rehearsals and concerts, doctors’ appointments, and anywhere else I needed to go.  Jamie was tired of having to pack everyone up just to take me all the way downtown.  Frankly, I was too.  I miss driving.  The van is currently in the shop, though, so I’ll have to wait another day or two to actually get to it.  The air conditioning was dying.  I found it to be cruelly ironic considering this has been the hottest summer in eight years (according to one local weatherman).

I also took a break this week from nail art to get myself a set of gel nails with French tips.  My poor nails were looking haggard without polish.  Using a base coat was helping but as the weak, peeling, yellow part of my nails were growing out, they just kept breaking.  It wasn’t the polish that was peeling and chipping–it was my nails.  So I sucked it up and went for fakes.  I’ve tried acrylics a few times in my life but never really liked the way they felt.  I do like the gels.  They’re thick but just as thick as my natural nails are when I pile on all the layers of polish I usually use.  I’m going to give these another day or two and gussy them up a little.  Right now I’m enjoying the simplicity of this manicure.

I’m so proud of my little conductor.  Look how enthusiastic his cues are!

The last time it snowed like this, Corey was a toddler, so you can only imagine the excitement around here yesterday afternoon when it actually started snowing.  And sticking to the ground!  Hoo boy!  They had some major plans for all this snow.

Aiden wanted to eat it:

Corey wanted to make a snowman:

And Simon wanted to make snowballs (to eat):

I could bombard you with about fifty more pictures of snow and the resulting chaos that ensued afterward, but I’m going to go take a shower now.  Our power went out around 8:00 last night and didn’t come back on (fully) until an hour ago.  So I’ll leave you with the view from my front porch taken this morning :

(hint: click the images to view in larger sizes)

During Sunday morning warm-up, the adults in the choir were asked if there was anyone willing to serve as acolyte in the next few weeks.  There’s a shortage of acolyte-aged youth in our church, so the same kids (and grown-ups) rotate their services Sunday after Sunday.  I asked how old one’s child needs to be to serve and it turns out Corey is just the right age.  Corey nearly came out of his skin when I approached him about learning to be an acolyte.

“Hey Corey, how would you like to learn how to be an acolyte?”

“What’s an acolyte?”

“It’s when you carry the thing  down the aisle at the beginning of church and light all the candles.”

“YEAH! YEAH! YEAH!”

At this point, Corey was literally jumping up and down.  I had to calm him and tell him it wouldn’t be right then, cause he was about ready to run and get his cassock from the robe room.  Training would be Wednesday, I said, but I wanted to ask so I could let the person in charge know he wanted to do it.

For the record, I was not raised Methodist, so I honestly have no idea what goes into being an acolyte.  I am pretty sure Corey will be the one to teach me how to do it when I “practice” with him over the weekend.  I know you have to bow before the cross and light the candles in the correct order, but what those candles mean, I don’t know.

It’s a big responsibility, though, carrying a lit candle on a brass pole down the middle of a church.  I can hardly trust Corey not to knock over his drink at dinner every night, so I can’t even imagine how nervous I’m going to be for him.  Let’s just hope he doesn’t set anything other than the candles on fire.  I’d hate to have to spend Valentine’s Day with a bunch of firefighters.

Or would I?