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life{in}grace

live with more presence, passion, & purpose

Edie Wadsworth

A day at Logos School

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We continued to work on memorizing this…….

We painted these…..

We had P.E.–in the pool!
We debated over whether to choose this…..
or this for Taylor’s senior picture……(you can help us by voting 1 or 2)  I like 2 (below) better!
We memorized this……(it’s part of our Bible/History catechism)
and painted these…..
and put the finishing touches on these adorable puppets…..
and did I say swim?…….
then the girls jumped in the tub before ballet…..
and lest you wonder whether we’re homeschooling or unschooling ,  we also did math, spelling, handwriting, grammar,  history, reading,  bible, latin and a short home ec  session on how to properly crack an egg!  

Shhhhhh………

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Be very quiet.  I’m in the middle of covert operations the likes of which you haven’t seen since Jack Bauer took the Chinese consulate.    I was having a fine Sunday watching the Vikings get beat and reading “Uncle Tom’s Cabin”  when I came across this section in the book

“To do justice, she had,  at irregular periods,  paroxysms of reformation and arrangement, which she called ‘clarin’ up times’,  when she would begin with great zeal,  and turn every drawer and closet wrong side outward, on to the floor or tables,  and make the ordinary confusion seven-fold more confounded”.
So,  as soon as I read that,  I began “clarin’ ” things up in the girls’ room and decided to get rid of some stuff they no longer play with.   I’m no rookie at this either,  so I did it while they were at a friends’ house and I used BLACK garbage bags……’cause we all know how crazy a girl can get when you threaten to take her half-naked, matted hair barbie to Goodwill….the one she hasn’t played with in 4  years.   You’re dying to know what I put in the black bag aren’t you?  Well, I’m gonna show you but let me first say that when I bought the items you are about to see go into Witness Protection,  it was Christmas,  I was hormonal and at an all time low in my mothering skills…..I’m gonna say rock bottom even.   And most of it was that Jamie Knoxville’s fault,  who just happen to call me three days before Christmas to tell me about the Cheetah’s Girls’ Tour Bus.  So,  here’s goes nothing.
The Hannah Montana Stage…..equipped with roaring crowd noise and spinning ‘Hannah’ holder which allows her to ‘mingle’ with the crowd while performing…..
The Hannah Montana dressing room……which we happen to have caught her in…matted hair and all…..(sorry for the intrusion, Hannah)
And finally,  the HM tour bus.   This thing is pimped out to the max.   I actually secretly like it.  I think I may be the only one who has played with it with any regularity.   So,  never mind the fact that these are not the most edifying, educational toys out there,  why……I ask you why do these little girls not play with them?   Are they having secret conversations about how I’ve hit rock bottom and succombed to cultural influences?   Do they see through purple and pink plastic crap and feel they are somehow ‘above’ this shallow form of entertainment?   I do not know the answers to these questions,  but I do know that I would have bet a million dollars back in December that these not-so-cheap, made-in-China toys wouldn’t have lasted ’til March. I was terribly wrong….they’re gonna last forever because they never get touched.   Now, all that said,  if those two girls happen to ‘see’ these items in the Goodwill pile,  they would go completely nuts……crying, screaming,   you name it.   Hence the need for the covert operations. I’ll have to sneak that bag to the car in the cover of night and I’m not gonna lie…..I’m a little scared…..who knows what’s liable to happen when they realize that Hannah has taken her ‘tour’ to another city.  They really shouldn’t care….I’m the one who’s dressed her, combed out that matted blond mop,  and I’m the one who’s put her in the tour bus to lounge in the garden tub. But I digress.  Meanwhile, we will keep playing with our Legos and Lincoln Logs and American Girl dolls…..toys you don’t have to be embarrassed to say  your children own.  Hannah will do well in witness protection….she’s got that whole Miley thing going for her.

Friday Night with the Wadsworths…….

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You can call us ‘boring’ if you’d  like,  but here’s how our Friday night went down.  We made BLT’s and chocolate chip banana bread.…..yep,  you heard that right….and I’ll never make nor eat nor associate with banana bread again that does not have a generous amount of chocolate chips added.   This is a must-make.   Just take your favorite banana bread recipe and add chips, and bake.   Now, you ask,  “Why this feast?  What is the special occasion?”      Well,  I’m so glad you asked.  In case you hadn’t noticed,  there’s a huge hurricane about to hit Texas.   No, we don’t live in Texas but Geraldo  is gonna be there covering the storm live!!   Like we told our 21 yo who just moved in with us last month,  if you haven’t spent a Friday night eating chocolate chip banana bread and watching Geraldo cover the “big storm”, then you haven’t lived.


And that’s when we began to have the “hunker” down conversation.   I think this has become my very favorite phrase in the English language.   I love saying it and I especially love hearing news reporters say it over and over and over again.  So,  after 37 games of Connect Four,  I interviewed the family and asked them to give their best live demonstration of what the phrase “hunker down” actually means.
Here are my results…..Marcus first…….is he ‘hunkering’ or boxing?
then Emme……I think she has confused “hunker down”  with hip-hop……
then it’s Daddy’s turn……who may have confused “hunker down” with TaeBo……
then there’s me……I always imagined that “hunker-down”  involved more provisions than just my own scrunched up body…….at least some sort of cover……
and the smallest child refused to “hunker down” for fear that she wouldn’t ‘know how to do it right’ or for fear that I would ‘blog’ about it…….or both.   We looked up the definition.   Hunker means to crouch or squat for a long period of time.     At any rate,  it’s Friday night and we’re hunkered down,  eating chocolate chip banana bread and watching Geraldo.   Marcus may never want to leave!

And on a serious note,   we pray for those who will be affected by the storm.   May God have mercy.

The Stages of Funny Car Smells…..

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Kim and Sue, Leigh Ann,  Sis …..all of you type A, clean-your-car-out-everyday types…..look away, come back and visit tomorrow…..this post is likely to offend your clean car sensibilities.   Now for the rest of you,  listen close;  I need your help.
Day 1- There’s the faintest hint of a ‘funny’ smell in the car….you barely notice it and think about it for 3 seconds-max.
Day 2- The ‘funny’ smell is a little stronger–you give it some thought and a quick look around—don’t notice any obvious sources,  unless you count running shoes and an old poptart.   You give those a quick sniff and head on in,  puzzled.
Day 3-  The six year old says “Oooooh,  what’s that smell?   Yeah,  I’ve noticed it too.   Maybe it’s just because it’s so hot outside and the windows have been up.   Another quick look around reveals a petrified chicken nugget–which is not the source of the smell–and 4 day old TCBY leftovers—which is not the source either.   We roll the windows down and head to ballet.
Day 4- I’m starting to dread car rides longer than 5 minutes.   I look under the seats and in the ‘catch-all’ basket for the culprit.  No luck.    Clear out some old Mc Donald’s fries and buy ‘new car smell’ air freshener.   We then proceed to have a heated discussion about where to place the air freshener.   I’m not a fan of them dangling from the rearview—something so 1980’s-cheap car-tinted windows-dicey about it.  Nothing screams ‘my car is old and not clean’  like  ‘new car’ air freshener on the rearview.   So I find a much more appropriate place for it while my children point out every. single. car from here to Knoxville  that has them ‘dangling’ ,  to convince me of the error of my ways.   But I digress.
Day 5-  Weird air freshener-‘funny’ smell mixture goin’ on.   I try to diagnose the smell—at this point I’m thinking small dead animal—but who knows—-CAUSE I CAN’T FIND THE SOURCE. I drive an excursion so that’s like finding a small child in Walmart.
Day 6- My children complain that the smell is so horrific,  they may vomit.  I’m dry-heaving myself.  We roll the windows down and stick another air freshener up—not on the rearview, BTW.
And that brings us to today.   Do you have any suggestions?   Has this ever happened to you?  Cause it’s a quarterly thing for me.   Let me add that this is not the sweaty boy/feet smell that my sons’ car always has….no this is violent and wrong.    Can small animals die somewhere,  like in the engine?  Will I need to take EVERYTHING out of the car and start all over.   Do I need to call in special search teams?   Is it time to sell?    Am I a bad person/mother/homemaker/car owner?  Please advise.

Tales from the birthday girls…..

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Sunday,  my family gathered at my house to help Emme celebrate being 8 and Caiti, 16.   Emme got some fun new games, wrapped neatly  in brown packing paper with her name written right on the paper.   I do this at Christmas time with a little fancier writing.    It’s fun and different and saves having to buy  the little name taggy things which I do not enjoy.
Caiti shows off her new undies and not shown,  her new UGGs (the gray short ones…they are so cute)…..
Daddy helps Emme with her new bike….
Cousins Corey and Hope entertain Scooter……
I hustle to finish Caiti’s cake which turned out pretty cute…..
Let me explain the black high-heeled shoes…..and I need to stand on my soapbox to do so.   Ahem.   In our particular town,  many folks give their newly turned 16 yo’s new cars…..very, very nice new cars.   I’m not bitter but my sister and I shared a rough-riding, oil-guzzling,  black camaro all through high school……and felt thankful to have that.   Kids these days have way too much,  way too fast,  with little to no level or maturity or gratitude required.    I didn’t have a new car until I was 30 years old and graduated from medical school…..and I bought it myself.    Now, my sweet Caiti is no different than any other teenager.   She’s wonderful and funny and bright and self-centered and irrational and at this very moment is probably stealing my mascara.   She is actually a pretty good driver,  but do I think she is ready for the responsibility of a car?  No,  I get a little nervous when she borrows my hair dryer.    I know she will get there.  She will soon enough drive a car, vote, date, go to college and I am none to anxious for any of it.   But who is that started dictating to us that kids should get cars at all, let alone new cars for their 16th birthday?   It’s insanity.   She seems to be a pretty good sport about the fact that there won’t be a new red convertible with a big bow on it in the driveway on her birthday.   So, to add humor the situation,  we attached a note to her cake that said,  “At least you’ll look cute walking”……hence the cute black high-heeled shoes. 
Back down off soap box,   Elea and Marlea enjoy some games and art in the school room.
Corey,  Taylor and Emme pose for pictures after a game of Blokus.
Taylor and his super-sweet girlfriend Morgan…..playing games in the schoolroom with the kids.