Homeless Mentality

This was what he collected this morning already.  I emptied the basket out last night...

Over the past few days I have found myself explaining the reason behind Blake's basket of collectibles he has gathered from around the house.  You see, he takes one of my laundry baskets and fills it with whatever he can get his hands on.  These are HIS things.  No touch!  He pushes this basket all over the house.  Into the bathroom for bath time.  Into the bedroom for sleeping.  Out the door to play in the yard.

We call it his Homeless Man Basket.  And it's funny, but quite honestly, very true.

You see...he is hoarding.  He is collecting, gathering, storing, hoarding--and you can bet your bottom dollar that you won't get your hands on his prized possessions.  They are his.

LEGO pieces, random socks, book, dirty pants, clean diaper, bra, kitchen pan, spoon, rock, remote control (first place I look now when it is missing!), dolls, crayons, Autum's pacifier (again, first place I look when it's missing), pillow, tupperware cup, old raisin box, half a cracker...you name it, it is in there!

He has developed this desire of collecting and hoarding, just from 2 year's of not possessing ANYTHING.  He had nothing to his name, not even a name, or at least one he recognized.  So now that he has the option to possess items, he is making up for lost time.

I haven't decided quite yet what to do about this hoarding business.  It may slow down as he begins to understand this is his home and he belongs here.  Or it may be a subtle underlying issue for his life.  I'm not sure.

But for now I will continue to build trust with him.

If nothing else, he is getting stronger physically, as his basket gets fuller and heavier, the more he has to push around!  There is always a silver lining.  :)

What It Looks Like.

I finally finished reading the book "7: the experimental mutiny against excess."  After reading the book, I have taken some time to absorb what I've read to determine how I want to respond.  You see this book can be taken in several ways and my mind was having trouble deciding how it should go...

I had the same issues when reading "Crazy Love"  and "Radical."  What do you do with this enormous amount of information that defies your typical way of thinking, goes against all of society, and is ultra-challenging to your spiritual walk? 

These things I know...
1.  We adopted this little man.  Which for us was Radical. A child with special needs?  Age 2?  Living in Ukraine?  Costs approximately $25,000 to adopt him? 

Metcha Day-Oct. 19, 2011--My first chance to hold him.

2. It took a Crazy Love for Christ to abandon our comforts and make this move to add another baby to our family.  It took Crazy trust.  And somedays, I think it takes just plain CRAZY to do what we are doing!! :) 

3. But that's what is so amazing about this transformation that is taking place in our lives.  It is Radical. It is Crazy.  And it is revealing to us the "excess" in our lives, that all the sudden just doesn't seem so important.

Now back to my original point...reading about all the things that Jen Hatmaker removed from her life can lead one to want to do the same.  Live off of 7 foods for a month?  Sure.  Wear the same 7 articles of clothing for a month?  Sure.  Give 7 things away a day for a month?  Sure.

Rules.  Easy to follow.  What most people want.  But these rules can become very legalistic if we allow them too.  I wanted to decipher how I could apply what she learned and shared in the book about this mini experiment.  How she was changed.  But most importantly, how does this change play out in everyday life?

I am wrestling with acting impulsively to go and 'save the world' because of the energy I got from reading this book and the excitement I had in eliminating 'excess.'  I felt like a Junior High kid just home from church camp that carries his/her Bible to school everyday!  That kind of fire and excitement!  But I didn't want to be impulsive.  I didn't want to follow a bunch of rules, mindlessly. 

I wanted my transformations to be purposeful and Spirit-lead.  I decided to hit the Books to learn from the Master as to how it looks to live radically, with little, and to act in crazy love.  The Gospels.  I know it sounds cliche' but I wanted to know "What Would Jesus Do?"  How did He live?    

I realized a few things so far...and I have a lot to learn. 

But I have noticed that Mark observes and wrote that Jesus acted with compassion on people. It says He had compassion on them and as a result healed them. 
   My goal: Listen to the Holy Spirit's leading in making my heart have compassion for people or situations. 

I noticed that Jesus surrounded Himself with a close-knit group of men who encouraged Him, prayed with Him (when they weren't sleeping), and walked with Him.  Disciples. 
   My goal:  Be that type of "man" for my friends.  Encourage.  Pray.  Walk.

I noticed that Jesus was never tied to anything temporary, fleeting, or materialistic.  He was always available and sensitive to His Father's leading.  Ready and willing.
   My goal:  Be sensitive to the Holy Spirit's leading.  Hear the still, small voice in everything.  This requires me to give up some things.  Facebook time.  Workout time.  Texting time.  Any 'excessive' fluff that pulls my heart away from time with God.  I'm also learning to pray constantly.  Intercession.  I want a child to be adopted because God put this little child on my heart and I was faithful to pray for his/her family.  I want a village to receive fresh water because I was burdened to pray based on a radio advertisement. I want my neighbors to know Jesus and if it means I pray for them daily. I will.  I want to move mountains in prayer!

I noticed that Christ prayed and thought over His actions.
   My goal:  Be more aware of how I spend my time and money.  Not make impulse purchases or buy things just because they are on sale.  No justifying things.  My question and prayer now is: Do I really need this?  As we have been home-ridden with Blake, the past 4 months, allowing him to adjust and overcome anxiety...we have saved so much money.  Unknowingly!  I had no idea until reading this book and experiencing this society-fast, how much we nickel and dime away on purchases while we are out and about.  Unneeded ones, I believe.  Obviously, we have gotten by just fine the past few months without those buys.

So that's my conclusion so far...I need to be more sensitive to the Holy Spirit's leading through living in a less 'noisy' world around me; by being ready and willing to serve, lead, and go; and by being prayerful in everything.  As to what this leads me to do...as to what I become the legs of...I'll keep you informed.

So far...it has consisted of us setting up a recycling area for our home.  :)  Small steps, small steps...

3.21

March 21 hasn't been real important in my life the past 29 years.
But this year it has a whole new meaning for our family.

And for this family...

Remember the Basile's?  This is Zoya.  Read more about her, here.

And everyone remember's Mila!!  She is a whopping 18 lbs. now.  Woot!  Catch up on her progress here.

...and this one...

Sterling!  Jerad still swears he is the cutest kid.  He is eating on his own now, signing like crazy, attending school, and spending lots of time at Disney World. Plus he just had his first beach experience.  This after only being home 5 months from Ukraine.

...and this one...

Jadon.  Another Ukrainian prince.  This cutie is crawling all over everything.  Even out the back door.  He has new glasses and is enjoying being able to see the world better.  And is better able to keep up with his 3 big brothers.  Read more about his progress here 

.

 

...and this family.  Read more about Leah's sweet daycare friend Ella, here, and her big sister "Tallie."  

...and this family.

Remember Joshua?  Blake's bunk buddy at the orphanage.  Here he is with his brother, Jacob.  Who also has Designer Genes.

...and for these children who still wait. 

Who's family's haven't yet discovered the blessing of having a child with Down Syndrome!  But who someday will be celebrating this day simply because of their child having 'designer genes.' 

Nadine, our Prayer Warrior Child.  Designer genes.

Saul.  Designer Genes.

Ruth.  Designer Genes.

 World Down Syndrome Day.

              3.21

A day that will hold significance for us from now on.  We are blessed to be able to make this day special for Blake, and we are blessed by how he makes each day special for us!

Will you join me in praying for all the children all over the world with Down Syndrome today?  If only we would intercede on their behalf, the difference we could make in the lives of so many. 

Orphans or not.

Major Updates

From the kids themselves...

Autum:

"Well, that little pesky kid is walking now.  Walking everywhere!  He raises his arms up in the air, stiffens up his legs, and plods around the house, the yard, up and down the stairs, right up into my space.  He thinks it is so funny to walk up behind me, put his hands on my shoulders and use me for balance...or for a stopping tool, because he quite honestly hasn't figured out how to put on the brakes!  I, of course, in my normal fashion, begin to scream for mommy to come save me from his sticky little fingers.  He always messes up my hair and it is really starting to annoy me.  I've found ways to get away from him, now, though.  Like climbing up onto the dining room table. I perch myself smack dab in the middle so he can't reach me!  I will throw a napkin at him every so often, just to make him madder.  It's quite a hoot!  Sometimes I'll get through the entire stack of napkins before mommy comes in yelling at us all.  Oops! 

His signature walk.  Arms up, toes out, legs straight...and GO!

As long as I can stay one step ahead of him, we are good.  We always fight over who gets to sit in mommy's lap when she is sitting on the floor. It doesn't matter what she is doing...folding clothes, stretching, reading a book, talking with daddy, removing another stain from the carpet, changing a diaper...she hits the floor--we are on the move to get to her lap first.  Sometimes this involves dirty moves...but hey, I gotta do what I gotta do.  I have resorted to pulling his legs out from under him, pulling his shirt or shorts, pushing him over, slapping him on the face or head, head-butting him in the back, throwing a toy in the way...but sometimes he just gets there first.  So I enact PLAN B...I go find a toy he particularly enjoys and I pretend to really be enjoying myself playing with it...just in his view.  He just can't resist...he will stand up, run over to take it from me and that's when I spring into action.  I jump to my feet and run as fast as my chubby, short legs will carry me, diving into mommy's lap before he realizes what has happened.  Heeheehee.  Someday he'll learn, though, and I'll have to come up with a new plan of action."

This is how they'll get to high school someday! :)

Blake:

"That silly chubby, crazy girl isn't such hot stuff. Thinking she can out run me to everything, well, I can almost stay up with her now.  And that just gets under her skin.  She'll start screaming and carrying on and I'll slap that stupid pacifier right out of her lips...whoooweeee!  That sets her off.  She gets this look in her eye..she'll tilt her chin down and look up at me with her eyes, then she'll rear her head back and head butt me with the top of her head.  What in the world??!  Where does she learn this?  And mommy thinks it's bad I resorted to biting.  That big red-headed girl learned about my new trick the other day...she just thought she was going to pick me up off of the top of the couch...she reached for me and I bit her right on the chest!  Hahahaha.  She still has the teeth marks to prove it, and seems to want to show everyone.  Personally, I think she just wanted another excuse to wear a Band-Aid...she flies through boxes of those, looking for every excuse to wear one.  Not sure what's the point? 

New haircut.  New ride.

I also had the opportunity to get my first summer haircut.  Daddy hooked me in my chair, mommy unloaded a can of peaches on the tray, and he sheared off every inch of my hair.  He called it something like a "Brrr" cut.  I don't know if I like it or not yet, though, it doesn't hold the food quite as well.  I can't quite get the same style I was before out of the spaghetti sauce at dinner time.  I'll keep trying, though.  I think they need to give that chubby, screechy girl the same haircut.  Mommy is always getting on her for pulling out her pigtails and hair bows, that girl's hair is always in her face!  She can really get the food to stick in that mess...that's why I have resorted to throwing my food at her now.  I get this belly laugh going, because it just tickles me, when that food slaps the side of her face.  Mommy calls it my naughty laugh. I've only recently discovered it.  I pull it out when I knock over the trash can multiple times a day and empty its contents.  Or when pull all the cords out from behind the TV.  Or when I dump a full glass of tea all over the carpet.  Or when I throw rocks at the side of Daddy's red truck, or at the house, or at that chubby girl.  Or when I fill my diaper up with rocks from the front flower bed.  Or when I put all the toilet paper in the toilet.  Or when I get in the bathtub with that big red-headed girl fully clothed.  Or when I pull chubby girl's pink chair up to the TV stand and use it to climb up next to the TV.  Or when I empty the dishwasher of dirty dishes and throw them all over the kitchen floor. Or when I empty all of my clothes drawers out in my bedroom...this laugh is always followed by a 'no' and time-out in a chair.  I DO NOT like that.

This is ornery grin that goes along with my orneriness! * Note the magazine he is reading...

I got to go swimming for the first time the other day.  I LOVED IT.  I hung onto mommy for dear-life with my fingers, she has scratch marks all over her shoulder from it.  But I used my other hand to splash and splash and splash. I liked to stick my tongue out and try to drink the water, but mommy kept telling me "No, yucky."  I only liked the water going up to my tummy, though. If mommy went any deeper, I would attempt to crawl up her face and on to her head to get away from that cold sensation on my chest and neck.  I hope we go again soon.  Chubby girl just laid back in Mimi's arms and relaxed.  She didn't seem to understand how cool it was when my hand hit the water, the water would spray up and splash my face and mommy's.  So cool! I think she was just relaxing and peeing in the pool.  Probably why mommy kept saying I couldn't drink it.  Not sure what the big deal is, I pee in the bathtub all the time and chubby girl drinks it.  Paybacks, I guess..."

 :)

We also recently had Karaoke night at our house.  The big red-headed girl wanted to make a music video, so I thought I'd get in on the action.  I'm really starting to learn new words and yell them all the time.  Practice makes perfect, ya know?  GA GA GA, GAA, GAA, GAAAAAA!!  AYAYAYAYAY!!  MAMAMAMAMAMAMMA!!"

Getting Fat on the Feast

I am.

Plain and simple.  I realize you may be getting tired of hearing me speak about the wisdom God is pouring into my heart right now.  It isn't much fun or very exciting.  It isn't exactly uplifting.  It is dirty and messy.  It is painful.  It is gritty.

But it is evoking a change.  A realization.  Discernment.  Which calls for repentance. 

I love how Jen Hatmaker stated it in "7": God may we be focused on the least, a people balancing the fasting and the feast.

I'm not doing that.

I spend most of my time doing prayer groups, Bible studies, going to programs, uploading more sermons, etc.  And there is a time and place for this type of feasting.  The feast of the redeemed.  I am easily overwhelmed by the goodness of God.  His mercies are new every morning.  He offers salvation which includes blessings, peace, healing, forgiveness and most importantly: hope.  This is the feast I partake in and am free to do so as a Believer in Christ.

But...there has to be a balance.  And to counterbalance all of this feasting, there must be a 'fast.'

The Bible mentions various forms of fasting.  Fasting from food.  Fasting from self-preservation.  God's idea of a fast:  justice, freedom, food for the hungry, clothes for the naked. ("7")

I have bought into the idea that I need more feasting and less fasting.  More, more, more.  (noticing a theme here) The feast is supposed to sustain the fast.  But I prefer to avoid the fast and continue to gorge myself on more Bible studies, programs, sermons, classes, distractions. 

It's time I curb my own appetite for the mission of Jesus.

Blake and Autum were playing outside this morning.  They were laughing and throwing mud at each other (at this point I wasn't laughing).  They were pointing at the trees and talking in the jibberish only they understand.  Then, Blake stops, tilts his head up to the sun, closes his eyes, takes a deep breath and just smiles.  He sits there for a moment, just soaking up the warmth.  As if recognizing his blessing of freedom.  Like he knew his life could have been so much different had God not chosen a family for him when he was formed in his mother's womb.  Our family.  For him. 

But no family for her.  Yet.

Meet Nadine.  Our Prayer Warrior child.

I just had this emotion come over me.  Joy for one.  That God chose us and that we weren't completely engorged in our feasting to miss the calling.  And also, sad.  Because so many children as sweet and innocent as him will live their lives in solitary confinement.  Many children like him will die of starvation today.  Many children like him are living in boxes under bridges.  Many children like him have no family. 

Hatmaker makes it very clear in this book that Christians in early history stunned the Romans with their generosity.  They chose self-denial to alleviate human misery.  They had common funds saved to support the needy.  They did not limit their assistance to members of their own subculture. 

Sometimes I wonder what these men and women of the early Christian church would think of how I do church today.  Would they barely recognize me as a sister in Christ with my stocked pantries, piles of unworn clothes, uneaten food in my trash can?  Would they wonder if we follow the same Bible based on how I live my life?  They would be blown away at the thought of my desire to switch churches because the music is better, more programs are available, the people are nicer, the sermons are shorter, the building is bigger....meanwhile there are more claim to be Christians than orphans.  There are brand-new parking lots being built while 25,000 people die everyday from starvation.

I let this happen.  I allowed myself seconds and thirds of this feast.  And forgot about the 'fasting.' 

If I got back to living the Bible, not just reading it.  I could be a small part of the answer to healing this society.  And if people joined me, enduring the fast.  Giving more.  Living on less.  Then we just might be able to turn the modern church around.  Not neglect the poor and needy at our doorstep.  But take our noses out of the air, take the focus off of getting people in the door and humble ourselves to the needs of mankind.  Sacrifice.  Live. 

No more.  The Bible is no longer my 12-week self-improvement, help me not to cuss, do it because I am supposed too, run-by reading, fix.  No, I can get those books at the library. 

I want to live it.  Be it.  And if that requires addressing more of the 'hard' stuff, getting dirty and deep.  Then hold on, because I already feel like we are being pruned, but obviously there is still more work to do. 

Have your way with me, Oh Lord.  Have your way with me.

Pee Wee Herman Laugh

I'm starting to see a relationship between these two kiddos of mine begin to form, and I love it.  They both seem to just get each other.  Leah can get Blake laughing better than any of the rest of us, so we are quick to encourage her to bring him to giggles.  Here's a taste of their fun! 

And you get to hear what Jerad calls Blake's "Pee Wee Herman laugh!!"

Never the Same

Yesterday I spent some time in Wichita (a large city north of where we live for those of you not from here) for work.  I arrived in the city 45 minutes before my first meeting so I decided to run over to Kohl's for some retail therapy.  By the time I weaved through traffic I had nearly 30 minutes left, but none the less, I hadn't seen the inside of a shopping store or mall in nearly a year, so I didn't care! 

But the smells of newness, the sights of bright popping spring colors, the sounds of baskets scraping the floors, the dinging of newly-checked clothes being scanned, the atmosphere of satisfaction on the part of the customer and his/her new purchase as he/she strolls out the door....

...actually left me feeling sick.  Seriously.

I stopped after I walked around awhile and let the realization that the excitement of shopping and buying more and justifying my need for more no longer was satisfied by this excess-driven society. 

Whoa.  It took me a minute as I battled in my head with these thoughts..."Lord, why have you taken this once-pleasureful act away from me?  Am I always going to feel this sense of needing forgiveness from my past ignorance?  Why?  Did rescuing this little orphan man, my son, really change my heart so much that I don't even enjoy past excitements?  What am I to do with this?"

 I continued to walk around and pray for the Holy Spirit to intercede on my behalf for what I am supposed to do with this changed heart.  As you may know, from previous posts, that I have been struggling with this unsettled feeling.  This stirring of my soul.  And I feel like it stirred up into my throat yesterday, this bubbling, like something was about to surface in my mind about a direction and leading...something related to this rage against my previous spending habits, ignorance to my selfishness, anger for my justifications, lack of prayer about purchases and on and on. 

I ran across this paragraph in a book Sarah Basile and I are reading together.  7: An experimental mutiny against excess is the book, by Jenn Hatmaker. She surprised me with the book and I have been surprised with what I'm being challenged by in reading it.  I want to share this particular paragraph that spoke so dearly to my soul as I have been dealing with this exact issue day in and day out with my children.

Jenn and her husband were in the process of adopting 2 children from Ethiopia when she wrote this:

     "My children live in the ninth poorest country in the world where 46 percent are undernourished with a global hunger index listed as "extremely alarming."  Tragically, the World Food Programme, that assists eleven million people in Ethiopia, reduced the emergency food ration by one third, just when food assistance is critically required.  Meanwhile, embarrassed government officials are insisting the sky is not falling and international intervention is not needed.  The chances my African children are going to bed hungry are so high I almost don't need to waste a line space speculating.  
     And tonight my kids here with me in the land of plenty threw away a pound of food because they didn't have ketchup.  
     How can we extract our children from this filthy engine where indulgence and ignorance and ungratefulness and waste are standard protocol?  Where they know they can throw perfectly good food away because there is always more in the pantry?  
     I wept for all my children tonight, my Ethiopian children orphaned by disease or hunger or poverty who will go to bed with no mother tonight and my biological children who will battle American complacency and overindulgence for the rest of their lives.
     I don't know who I feel worse for."

Every night as I cook supper I think on these things, exactly what she was describing.  I find myself getting SO irritated with myself and my children as they pick and choose what they will eat, throw fits if it isn't what they want and throw the rest mindlessly away.  I think I get most upset with myself based on their actions because I feel responsible for them being this way...already...at ages 1, 2, and 5. 

Breaks my. heart. 

But, there can be a change.  I want to be the change.  I want my children to be the change.  We can.  We will.

To quote Jenn again, "The poor world is begging for mercy like Bartimaus, while the rich world is asking for more favor like James and John."


We will start today.  Be prepared for changes ahead. :)

Reoccurring theme

I swore from the beginning of this adoption process that I would not sugar-coat the process: either the good or the bad.  I will not lie to you, as of late I feel like we are experiencing the 'bad.'  DO NOT get me wrong, Blake is not the bad and does not represent the bad.  The bad is my adjusting to this new life. 

I'm tired.  Plain and simple.

And when I don't get sleep, everything seems magnified in nature.  And in this case, everything seems just hard right now.  I feel Satan's lies slipping in more easily.  I feel myself giving an ear to these lies more easily.  I fully believe Satan uses our physical weariness as a means to destroy and distract us just as much as he uses our emotional and mental weaknesses. 

You see, Blake is having lots of anxiety at night if we have had a day away from the house or out of our normal routine.  He will be up all night screaming and crying, inconsolably.   ALL NIGHT...and when he shares a room with Autum, that means she is up all night.  I have spent many a night running back and forth between cribs rubbing backs, replacing pacifiers, changing diapers, giving drinks, rocking, patting, massaging, consoling, singing, praying. praying. praying.


So to solve that problem.  We. don't. go. anywhere.  Church and the grocery store, back and forth to school, and that's about it.  We haven't socialized with friends in ages.  We have very limited time with family. 

We are laying low, you could say.  And this is hard for me. 

I knew I would be tired.  I have 3 "little's"--it goes with the territory. 
I knew I would get frustrated.
I knew it would be stressful. 
I knew there would be days when I would want to throw in the towel. 
I knew there would be days when I would close the door to my room and scream. 
I knew there would be days when I would just want to stay in bed and avoid facing the day.
I am there.

I have to remind myself that this suffering for Christ is only part of this temporary life.  God called us to adoption.  I know it.  He lead us to Blake.  He helped us defend the cause of the orphans by saving his life.  I know this. 


And with this, I know there will be suffering and trials and LOTS of spiritual battles.  Yet I know we are not alone.  We are not suffering for no reason.  We are suffering for Christ.  And with this I can rejoice and find hope.  We are suffering just as Christ suffered for us.  When I remember we are suffering for the greater cause, I regain perspective and realize that this is the journey we are on.  A journey that was never promised to be easy or comfortable, no.  But one that reaps a greater reward in Heaven, and for that I can breathe easier.
 
   

Craft Morning through Blake's Eyes.

I woke up late this morning and was greeted at the dining room table with a mess.  A mess of colored paper, this gooey, sticky purple stuff in a stick that the red-headed girl kept licking off of her fingers, these black sharp-pointed things that mommy kept taking out of the crazy chubby girl's hands, and a box of crayons.  I wasn't really sure what all of this was about, but the red-headed girl kept getting more excited with each lick of that purple glue stick.

M.E.S.S.

I just wanted my breakfast served and I would be happy.  Mommy was running around everywhere.  She would run to the kitchen to see if my Gluten-free peanut butter muffins were done, then she'd run to the table to cut up so more banana slices per my screaming, then she would chase the chubby girl around the kitchen when she would run off with her cooking utensils, then she would come show the red-headed girl how to stick some papers together...and then back again.  So at the least it was chaotic.  Which is the norm around here.

Well, things were rolling along just fine. I was chomping on some warm bread, the red-headed girl was glueing her paper into something Mommy called an Easter basket...who knows?  All I know is it requires a LOT of glue based on amount the red-headed girl was using.  Swipe the paper. Lick the fingers. Swipe the paper. Lick the fingers.  Hmmm...have to try that out sometime.  Must be tasty.  The chubby girl was sitting on Mommy's lap coloring some paper.

Then...I ran out of food and my grunting wasn't getting Mommy's attention, so I threw my milk glass across the table.  That got some attention!  The lid flew off and sprayed milk on the red-headed girl's gluey work of art.

Whoa Doggies! She. was. mad!!  Mommy wasn't too happy either.  She grabbed a towel and begin to wipe up the mess and throw away soggy paper.  She grabbed me out of my chair and made me clean up the mess and pick up my cup.  I've learned that when Mommy says "clean up", it means pick up my mess.  I hear that a lot these days.  Anyway, the red-headed girl started yelling something at me saying I was in big trouble.  It sounded something like "yada, yada, yada."  In her haste she threw one of those crafty gluey colored paper baskets my direction...so while I was waiting for Mommy to get me more food, I decided to tear the handles off the blue and green basket.  The paper tore so easily, and made this really cool "rrriiiip" noise.  So I did it again, working my way around the basket.  I got a few pieces ripped off before the red-headed girl saw what I'd done.  She started yelling, telling me I was going to be put in time-out (not sure what that means), and that I couldn't have a snack and that I wasn't going to get to play outside, and that I'd have to take a nap, and that I couldn't have any playdates....and the list went on and on.  Sounds like she's heard this list before...
I took a gander over at chubby girl, because she was being unusually quiet in this whole bout, and she was busy chewing away on the red-headed girl's favorite pink sparkly crayon.  She had the whole top of the crayon pretty much chewed off and was working on the paper before Mommy saw what I saw.  She quickly grabbed it out of her hand and scraped the rest out of her chubby cheeks...and then the screaming began.  In her anger she took a sweep at everything on the table and knocked the new black scissors off the table on Mommy's foot...that must have hurt based on the word that came out of Mommy's mouth...

That sounded more like the chubby girl I was used to hearing.

As Mommy attempted to regain control, she muttered something under her breath about 'stupid idea', 'crafts', 'mess' and 'lots of stress...'  She got me one more slice of peanut butter bread so I would quit standing up in my high chair and tried to help the red-headed girl get her demolished basket glued back together.  I shoved all the bread in, washed it down with a glass of milk, realized I had too much in my mouth and spit it all back out down the front of my pajamas.  (which should have been caught by my bib, but I proceeded to remove it while I was waiting for seconds to be served) So Mommy took a big breath, swooped me out of my chair and stripped me down to my diaper.  It made it easier to climb up on the dining room chairs to be closer to the 'crafting' action, anyways.  Here is how it ended up...

She's always upset.  This time it wasn't because of me at least.

What?

The basket with the missing top.

All I know is I hope we don't have a crafting morning again anytime soon, it made Mommy do a lot of heavy breathing.  Hope she is okay.