While Wife was down with the baby, recovering from the birth, I took most of the children shopping for some much needed groceries. That way I killed two birds with one stone. Wife got some quiet, and we all got to eat. Everybody is happy. Continue reading
It was about 3:45 in the morning. I could not tell you whether the moon was shining, or if the stars were bright. I was behind several feet of concrete, in the birth wing of the hospital were a ray of sunshine had just been born. #10 finally arrived.
With such a large family, we tend to attract a lot of undesired attention in public. Granted, our flock of children crossing the road will stop traffic like a line of yellow ducklings. But unlike the ducklings, we do not usually get the “oh sooo cute” reaction. I would say the majority of opinions range from flabbergasted, to disapproving. Continue reading
#8 appointed himself my honorary second shadow. When I tramp through the house, or out in the yard, he was not far behind. Because of that, I have started walking very quickly to give myself some space. Continue reading
Working with my little boys fills me with pride. The same kind of pride I feel when a job is done, or when I see American soldiers standing at attention. The pride of something of mine going right. Yet, these boys are as frustrating as containing spilled paint. Continue reading
Artists are an odd bunch. Yes, I realized that was a blanket statement made by one who is not an artist. Someone on the outside, who does not understand their thoughts or feelings. Well, if you had been sitting there at my table, you might have felt the same. Follow me down the rabbit hole and I will show you.
So… it has been a while. I understand rumors began to sprout up about our mysterious disappearance from the blog. Let me put your mind at ease. We have not boarded a ship bound for adventures unknown. Nor have we been driven into hiding by distrustful parts of the government determined to regulate family size. And while an idyllic cabin hidden away by year round snowcapped mountains may be appealing, the forever un-melting snow would send me looking for more temperate weather. In short, we are still where we have always been. But for reasons I will explain, I have been unable to approach the blog. Continue reading
From time to time I am surprised at how deep parental instincts go. I am not speaking of maternal instincts, nor feminine insight. I mean that parental discernment that somehow crosses the genders; the ability to know when a child lies, that sense when you know someone is missing, and the judgment to not kick at the small warm lump at the foot of the bed. So, when I shifted in my sleep and my foot touched a warm body, something told me it was not a pile of blankets.
I received a voicemail from Wife. “Do you know what your daughter did?”
Have you ever noticed that when a child does something wrong, the child ceases to belong to the mother?
Over Saturday, Wife and I carried out whispered conversations with each other. Our subject was the terrorist attacks in Paris. The aim of our conversation was how to tell the children. They had already heard something about the attacks, so we needed to talk to them soon. These events of absolute evil are always best coming from their parents, even though we feel like we are leading them across quicksand.