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

We are all born with an array of unique gifts - some come easy and some we have to nurture and grow.  One gift that I was clearly not given, but wish I was, is musical ability.  No amount of practice is going to help someone this tone deaf.  I enjoy music though, and I envy people who can play musical instruments, sing, or frankly just keep a beat.  My mom is a gifted singer.  She used to sing at church and occasionally perform a solo in front of the congregation.  That is also not in these genes - I'd rather die a thousand deaths.  But there was a hot second as a kid when I thought I'd like to sing with her.  She was practicing a particularly catchy song and saw that I was interested.  She suggested that maybe we could do one together sometime.  It took me "performing" her song in the car one time, for that subject to be dropped, buried, and unlike Jesus, never resurrected.   I keep hoping at least one of our kids will have some talent in this area.  The boys have ve

Fischer broke his arm a couple of weeks ago.  He's totally fine.  It was probably more traumatic for the tree.  He hit it with his motorcycle and dinged up the bark pretty good.  It is now a marked tree.  As soon as Fischer's cast comes off, he and Ross are cutting it down.  That's what happens when you mess with a St. Clair.   The day Fischer got his cast on he was wearing a shirt with his self-given nickname printed across the chest: Red Hot Fire King of Wheelies.  The Dr. was like, "So we'll be seeing you again..."       Yeah. Fischer is a good sport about being one-armed.  It has not slowed him down except for keeping him off of his bike and dirt-bike.  He's dying to ride.  This next time around, we are going to teach him how to use the brakes...   It's one of those parenting things you learn from experience.......details.  On the upside, nobody is breaking down our doors for parenting advice.  So we dodged that bullet.   Along the lines of being p

 Mercy.  The anxiety level has crept into the red-zone around here.  I was in the shower the other day and smelled onions.  It was me.  That's how I knew I'd let the anxiety get out of hand.  Anyone else smell like onions when they are stressed?  Is that just a me thing?  Maybe that's just a me thing.  Oh well, just add it to the weird, middle-aged body function list.   I had to gather myself and take stock of things.  Worried about the nation? Check.  The state? Check.  Our community, friends, family?  Check, check, and check.  Boy, I'm sure glad I'm doing everyone's worrying for them.  I'll tell you where to send your thank you cards later.   So I'm working on letting go of the things I can't control and trying to deal with those I can.  Like the piles.  The piles give me anxiety.  Dirty dish piles, dirty clothes piles, clean clothes piles, paper piles, book piles, toy piles, to-do piles.  My favorite one today: a #2 pile on top of an already clogg

I'm not a huge mask wearer.  Judge or judge not, that's just me being honest.  Luckily, there are very few instances where I am required or feel compelled to put one on.  I swear, there is always a thread or stray hair hanging out in mine.  I should probably wash it.  Anyway, despite my general lack of mask wearing, there are times when it is to my advantage to put one on.  Anybody else feeling that?   Let me elaborate.  I go to the store now without the twins, so I don't have them pulling on it, spitting up on it, or throwing it on the floor. And I have found that it makes it 100x more convenient to go to the store and slack on basic hygiene.  I mean, nobody can smell if I have brushed my teeth, my facial hair goes virtually unnoticed, and the constant puddle of snot at the tip of my nose this time of year...well, it can drip or dry as it likes.  It's pretty phenomenal.  The only hard part is returning home and trying to convince my husband that, "Yes, my mask is

We are raising warriors.  On purpose.  It's our goal and frequent prayer.  We want these kids to grow up fierce, strong, warriors for truth, morality, and Christ.  Even when it's not popular....especially when it's not popular.  We want our boys to grow into men who are masculine and not ashamed, and our girls to grow into women who are feminine, and not ashamed. We also want them all to be kind, loving, strong, and smart humans.   We have a lot of work to do on all accounts.  So if you hear me yelling, it's probably just me practicing my war-cry with them.  If you see me crying, I'm probably just modeling sensitivity.  If you hear me burp in public, please excuse me, we all have our faults.   Seriously though, we have moved pass the "keep them alive" stage. and are in the new murky waters of teaching them how to keep themselves alive and how to be good humans.  It's hard.  Especially when you are overtired (hello babies, feel free to sleep through the