02/02/2012

1.  Today is my brother's birthday.  Happy Birthday, Abraham!  I was 12 when he was born and he was "my baby" for the first few years of his life.  He and I were joined at the hip (almost literally) for most of my junior high years.  In fact, Abraham sat on my lap for my 8th grade graduation portrait.  I'm not sure what the photographer thought about that, but baby Abraham was a huge part of my life.  And now he's all grown up and still just as wonderful. 

I was such a good big sister :-)

2.  I didn't raise my voice in anger even once today.  God must have been testing me because I think all my boys woke up on the wrong side of the bed.  By 10:45, enough doors had been slammed, mean names called, and tears shed that I ordered everybody to get in the car.  We drove around for a while and I lectured (in the nicest possible way) about the importance of being each others' best friends.  Then I got everyone a treat.  Slushes at Sonic for Joseph and Mosey, and an apple fritter from Crown Donut for Brigham.  I told them that if they got the idea that every time they fought and yelled and slammed doors I would take them out for a treat, they would be sadly, sadly mistaken.  :-)  Everyone was in a much better mood for the rest of the day, however.  Except for Mosey.  See #3.

3.  Mosey's hives are still making him miserable.  Could account for his behavior today.  :-)  We had our art group in the afternoon, and he didn't want to go.  And then he got mad at one of his brothers while we were doing science, and stormed out the front door.  By the time we had to leave for art, he still wasn't back.  So we got in the car and I drove around our neighborhood until we spied him walking up Pencewood.  I drove up beside him and he started running.  All I wanted to do was talk to him!  So drove ahead a little, and then pulled over.  Well, the little stinker turned around and started running back down the street.  Brigham and Joseph jumped out of the van and ran after him, eventually catching up with him on the front lawn of the corner house of Weller and Pencewood.  There ensued an epic wrestling match-- two ten year olds versus one eight year old.  He beat them both off!  He ran back up the street, Joseph and Brigham piled back in the car and I drove up next to him, rolled down the passenger side window to talk to him as he was running pell mell up the road.  Finally I convinced him to get in the car.  He had to come with us to art, but he didn't have to come into the Eckholdt's house.  I figured it was because he was self-conscious about his hives, although he wouldn't admit that.  Sure enough, when we got to the Eckholdt's for art, he wouldn't come into the house.  I waited for a while, thinking he might wander in when he got bored in the house, but after 20 minutes, he was still out there.  So I went back out to the car and finally talked him into coming into the house and hiding in the front room and reading a book while the other kids did art.  This he did, and soon, as I hoped, he went out to the living room and joined the rest of the kids.  And no one said anything mean about his hives.  After we got back home, he was just as vehement that he wasn't going to cello lessons.  But I think he knew he wasn't really going to be allowed to skip cello, and after a few minutes he grudgingly got into the car.  He ended up having a great lesson.  Afterward, he hopped into the car and said, "That was FUN, mom!"  He has a good teacher-- she is so positive with him.  On the way home, Mosey said, "Having hives wasn't as embarrassing as I thought it would be."  So that was it after all.  :-)  He also said, "It's funny because before I went to cello, I really didn't want to go, but once I was there I liked it and now I'm really glad I went!"  Isn't that how so much of life is?