We received a sweet note from one of our little friends, Isaac Clark, today.

Lots of good things are happening in that home!  Thanks to the Clark family for coming to dinner on Sunday.  Dinner and games with friends–a wonderful way to spend an afternoon!  (I totally forgot to take a picture when they were here.  Dang it!)

My friend, Judy, has bag tagged me. I guess that I’m supposed to reveal the contents of my bag. Thankfully, I cleaned out the diaper bag this morning, so the list will be mercifully short:

1. Sippy cup w/ the remains of chocolate milk from earlier today. Thankfully, it hasn’t started to stink yet.

2. A barrette

3. Receipt from dinner–we met BT at Chipolte before he had to head off to a church meeting.

4. Cell phone

5. Here’s one thing that’s not in there–fruit snacks. Although Vivi remains unconvinced and is crying and pulling on my arm as I type.

6. A baggie with a few pieces of trash accumulated during today’s swim practice.

7. Wallet

8. 3 disposable diapers–I ran out yesterday and had to borrow one from a friend.

9. A ziploc bag of wipes.

10. A near-empty bag of mini goldfish crackers

11. An unopened bag of Otis Spunkmeyer chocolate chip cookies

12. Excedrin Migraine–a LIFESAVER

13. A single kleenex, unused

14. A bank deposit receipt

15. Reimbursement check

16. Lowe’s paint chip card

17. Altoids

18. Crayons

19. Barbie toothbrush

20. Gum

21. Bib

22. Plastic bracelet (essential accessory for Vivi these days)

23. A baggie of Crayons

24. Pen

25. $0.32 in change

26. A baggie of more change

27. Feminine hygiene products–won’t need those for a while.

Okay, so I THOUGHT that the list would be short! Oh, well. I tag Deanna and Melissa.

Early this morning I lay awake, unable to sleep, as I reflected on an incident I observed yesterday . . .

As I was cleaning up from a mother/daughter activity, I occupied a room with a group of boys and their leader. As I washed dishes, I bristled as some of the boys referred to one young man by a feminine derivation of his name. I cringed as they poked fun at some of the “less cool” kids.

The group was then asked to divide into two ‘teams,’ and two outgoing young men promptly nominated themselves as ‘captains.’ As they took turns picking from their peers, my heart ached. At first, all eyes were hopeful, but as the sorting started, three boys stared down at the ground with somber expressions. They knew, and I knew, that they would be the last selected. And although we had hoped for a different outcome, we knew this from the beginning. It broke my heart to see the humiliation in their faces and to know that, at that moment, they probably wished that would have just stayed home.

It was their pained images that occupied my mind in the middle of the night.

I honestly cannot understand why taunting occurs. I cannot fathom why capable, confident young people fail to see beyond themselves into the hearts of some of their less fortunate, more awkward peers who desperately want and need to be accepted and befriended. I cannot comprehend how any of this can happen in a setting that is designed to be a safe-haven from the storms of the world.

I pray that I may know how to be a part of the solution.

I’m sad to think that someday Ariana won’t care about collecting playground treasures at recess.  I’ll miss finding precious Ziploc treasure chests tucked carefully in the pocket of her pants.  But even as the years slip by, I’ll treasure the memories of my laundry-day discoveries, relics of the sweet innocence of childhood gone too quickly.

Sometimes I feel like I should be the one on the naughty spot–like the time last week that I sent Vivi to the naughty spot and then forgot about her. Needless to say, every time I look at this sweet picture, I feel a twinge of guilt. It’s hard to imagine that this sleeping angel could ever be naughty!

There goes Farmer Cottontail

Chasing down the bunny’s trail

Flippity Floppin’, the farmer’s on his way!

Running out to hunt ’em down,

In Guppy’s shoes, he is a clown!

Flippity Floppin’, makin’ those bunnies pay!

And the farmer said, “Wife, blog this as a warning to all who dare dine uninvited in my garden paradise!”

” Ye FIENDS of the infernal pit. Thou hast feasted upon my tender tomatoes, thou hast devoured my precious peppers!”

“Prepare to DIE!”

I remained composed in the doctor’s office but started to cry as I pulled out of the parking garage. Tears of joy? Sadness? Both? I’ll leave it to your imagination to decide.

This morning, I awoke to Bryan whispering sweet sentiments in my ear. Shortly thereafter, a chorus line of singing and dancing erupted around my bed. The CD player was blaring one of Ariana’s newest favorite songs: “How does she know you love her? How does she know she’s yours? . . . ” After her song and dance, she brought me breakfast in bed–a container of sugar-free jello, cold pop tarts and a glass of water . . . something “easier on the stomach” she said, because I don’t feel well in the mornings and the last time she brought me breakfast (piece of cold toast with slivered almonds sprinkled on it), I wasn’t able to eat it.

Tonight, Bryan, Ariana and I will go to a Vocal Majority concert of Broadway songs to celebrate our special day . . . the third anniversary of becoming a family.

All things considered, I truly do live an enchanted life.