Hosting is Our Jam

While we don't feel like the most social individuals in the world, Ross and I have discovered that we enjoy opening our home to people.  Is extroverted introverts a thing? In recent days, we have come to realize how important in-person relationships are. We (humans) were created for relationship and fellowship.

We feel extrememly blessed to live where we do in the home that we have. We want to share.

We want people to feel welcome here and comfortable to drop in. You may have to ignore the six or seven pairs of dirty socks on the floor, look past the dirty handprints on the wall, and be okay with a little stickiness on the counters, but you are welcome here.

We might have different opinions, come from different backgrounds, bring different baggage, but we hope we can still be friends.

Please remember there are kids in the room. Expect them to be loud...and dirty but also expect them to be respectful and polite. They talk a lot.

We like to fill people's bellies. If we're feeling fancy, we'll use the china. If we are feeling relaxed, we'll break out the paper plates. Either way, bring an appetite. If I burn dinner, we'll order pizza.

We like a house full of people.  If it gets crowded, we can spread out on the patio. This is our open invitation. You're welcome here.

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Pink Stinks

Our girls, like most four-year-old girls, love pink. And purple. And sparkly things, unicorns, butterflies, lizards and cats. But especially pink. Their brothers aren't so fond of pink. They prefer the color dirt. I know this because it's what they have chosen for the color of our walls, windows, light switches and their socks. "Do you like pink?" Emerson asked Fischer one day not long ago. "No." "Why?" "Because pink stinks !" Cue 'angry tears and screaming.' This of course delighted her brother who began using the line anytime he wanted to see her cry. Which was often. It didn't change her passion for the color, however. She still demanded the pink plate, pink cup, pink shirt, pink shoes, and pink gum if she had the choice. Because pink is the best when you're four. Fast forward a couple of weeks. The girls were collecting pieces of garbage off the van floor. Why? I don't know, b...

Triple Threat

People think we are raising twins, but they're wrong. We actually have triplets: Emerson, Carter, and Carterror. It's true. Carterror doesn't hang around often, but when the days are long and naps have been missed, she comes out swinging. Today, when we should have been napping, we ran errands. We needed some grain for our cows, so before picking up the boys from school, we stopped at the feed store. The girls spent a little time looking at all the fish, birds, and pets they have for sale. Immediately, after telling them not to touch the tanks, Carter tried to go fishing. That's when I realized Carterror had arrived. I called her name to stop her and realized her shirt was exceptionally lumpy. "What's in there?" I asked, pointing to her newly developed bosom. "My kitty," she replied, pulling out a stuffed cat from her sweatshirt. A minute later, we were walking down an isle of bovine parapher...

Fear Factor

Did you know that it has been not scientifically proven that a baby can smell her mother's presence through a closed door. It's probably the smell of fear that they are actually attuned to, but nonetheless. I hold my breath and walk on tiptoe past the baby's room and still get busted nearly every time. My fear is pungent. Besides waking the babies, I have another fear currently in the forefront of my mind. Don't mind me, this is just another episode of True Confessions.. . Here it is: the boys are getting so much outside time that they are building up incredible endurance. It's great really, but it is becoming so hard to wear them out. It used to be an hour at the playground and we were golden. Now, they basically put in an eight-hour workday, and it's just a warm-up! Does anybody have a treadmill....? Real school is going to be a bit of an adjustment for the big guy next fall. Speaking of s...

Not so adventures of the St. Clair clan...

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