Kids at Home

Emily: Hey is this grape juice?
Matt: Yeah but Steven wants to turn it into wine. He was all ears when I was googling how to do it.
Emily: You mean all eyes?
Matt: Well no, because he didn't really see it. But it turns out it's awfully hard not to turn it into vinegar.

The son came home with a garbage bag of laundry so heavy I could hardly lift it. The daughter flew home via 5 airports in one day--Shenandoah Valley, Dulles/DC, Denver, Spokane, and finally Portland. The other daughter survived the stresses of the Christmas program and then instead of relaxing took all her younger sibs Christmas shopping.

We all note with amusement how much Steven is like Matt at his age. Attitudes toward dishes, little teenage tricks, just about everything. "I am NOT a clone of you," growls Steven, then challenges: "What music did you like to listen to at my age?" [knowing what Matt likes now].
"K-Love," says Matt.
"AAAAGGGHHH," says Steven, who listens to K-Love all the time.

We open the gifts from Aunt Rebecca (lovely, all of them) this evening and then the talk turns philosophical. Ok, you say this is blue and I say it's blue, but how do we know that we are both seeing it the same? (Ben and Emily) And don't you ever think about being filmed all the time like on the Truman Show? [Brother B reports that Brother C sometimes turns off the bathroom light for this very reason. Brother A reports that there's actually a psychotic disorder of this nature called the Truman Disorder or something.] And how do I know that you guys are actually real and not just some sophisticated computer program, wonders Matt. The thought freaks Jenny out. I frantically try to change this train's direction before the child is destined for nightmares. But Emily has to go off about how does she know that she is really herself? Matt pontificates about the species of animals who are self-aware in that they recognize themselves in a mirror--humans, dolphins, elephants, chimpanzees, and orangutans. He googles it on the computer that grows out of his lap. Oh, and dwarf chimpanzees and orcas and pigs. PIGS?? I squeal. Yeah.

Paul and the boys play a game. Jenny watches then is sent to bed, reluctantly. Emily gives the first paragraph of her famous speech at Bible School, leaving us all dangling. I want a video copy of this speech real bad but it resides in the hands of one William whom I am not allowed to email to ask for it. Amy goes to bed with a fever. Again. I try not to worry. Emily says she does not feel SICK-sick in Oregon, just draggy and tired and like she has no energy to do anything, which indicates that all my hopes are shattering like a spun-glass ornament dropped on concrete, but I am not in any mood to talk any more about this, so nobody ask me more, please please.

I made cookies in my new kitchen today and STOOD IN ONE SPOT to do so. I'm serious. This is a long way from my kitchen in Round Lake some 19 years ago when the water was hauled in in buckets and the only outlet was an extension cord way over here. Yes, well, but if God calls me from this kitchen back to that one or one like it I hope I gladly answer yes. After all the important thing in kitchens is that you cook good food and have the family all around the table to eat it. Yes, amen.