Delectable Thought

One "full" week of pre-school is in the books! What a great week! And JO had his first homework assignment, which really means I had homework. The assignment: Bring in a picture of your pet. Easy enough, right? Big 'ole fat Wrong! We have two dogs---both black labs. June and Coal. I had one picture of June and that's it and this one picture was on the Cloud---you know, the ambiguous, mysterious Cloud. JO insisted on taking a picture of both June and Coal, though I tried to persuade him that it wouldn't really matter because they are basically the same dog, so it would be redundant to take two pictures of basically the same dog.  PIcture One: Coal Picture Two: June. Basically the same picture with the exception of my shadow.  I made the grave mistake of waiting until close to seven pm to head over to The Wal-Mart to print the two pictures of basically the same dog. If you've ever had the thought, I can wait until later to do that because I'll be able to do ...

What? Your children don't hold American Flags out of the window while you're driving down the road? Mine do. Maybe they're really Patriotic or Proud to be an American and all that Lee Greenwood jazz. Or maybe it's just fun to hold things out of the window and let's be honest...I'd rather they hold an object that's NOT attached to their body than lose a hand or arm to some passing vehicle/wall/pole. I may be the only person who worries that my small children with equally small appendages are at risk of having them knocked off by some passing car or truck while we're driving down the road. They are probably more likely to be eaten by zombies, but while I don't admonish them for riding on top of their toy cars or for riding their toys down the driveway at mach nine speeds, I draw the line at holding your arms and hands out of the window! Even if fully extended their arms barey reach past the window. You can just make him out back there celebratin' ...

Time is not on my side, not it's not, no sir. I fought it hard. I landed a few punches, even surprised it with my left-handed ability. I masquerade as a "righty", but really I'm both! I'm a little bruised from this fight, a little worn down. What did Time do to me, you ask? Well, time is a sneaky, dirty dog. You know the kind. They slink around waiting for the right opportunity to steal food off your plate. They seem all docile and friendly because they're hunched down and meek-looking, but they've got shifty eyes and they're always watching. And waiting... waiting to snatch away toddler-hood and replace it with boyhood. That's manhood looking over his shoulder there waiting to teach him about love and hate and loss and the world. Do you see it? I did this morning as I watched this guy walk into school for his first day of Pre-K4.  In a few short weeks he'll be five, so he's the older guy in his class and that's how I surprised time. Th...

I've officially taken up a new profession. Good-bye English Education degree. So long Bachelor of Arts degree that was really just a lot of reading and reading and writing and writing---good thing I love doing both of those things. You're looking at a bona fide, certified, real deal...Referee! Give me a whistle and some polyester black and white striped shirts and call it a day! That's right! I've been giving out red cards, ejecting thunderous sons from the game and exacting hefty fines on these two cats. The Sons of Thunder have been in full fighting mode this week. No mercy, no grace. All "He touched me", "He's got my (insert any item in our house)", "He's being loud". Lots of lessons have been learned this week about the good 'ole things...sharing, loving, showing grace, being nice and my favorite..."Sounds like a personal problem. Work it out." I like to think that's teaching my boys, my boisterous little men h...

Today has been Opposite Day here at the Thurman house. Actually this entire weekend has been Opposite Day. I don't mean some fun, creative day where we all swap roles or wear our shirts as pants and our pants as shirts. (Does that really happen?) But Opposite Day here is when the Sons of Thunder do the exact opposite of what I say.  Example One: Smile while I take a picture of you. James' clearly interpreted this to mean, "Don't smile and hold your hand out to indicate you don't want a picture taken of you." We clearly are still having some language barriers. (I kid. I kid.) John Owen's interpretation of "Smile while I take a picture of you." I believe I'm raising some abstract artists around here. As a sidenote, yes that is a basket of laundry that I DID NOT get folded today. I, too am practicing Opposite Day. Opposite Day was also practiced when getting in and out of the Jeep.  Example Two: "C'mon and get out so we can get in the s...

We're waste-deep in chiggers over here.  I promise my little fellas could be 100 miles away from the closet chigger and it would somehow find my sweaty boys. Chiggers equal clear nailpolish applications to places other than our toenails and fingernails. They also equal little boys scratching themselves in awkward places in public and me saying constantly, "Stop doing that!"  I'm sure a good remedy to our chigger issue would be to stay indoors, but I'd rather you rip off all of my fingernails and toenails with tweezers and then dip them in rubbing alcohol than stay indoors with my two boys. My boys (and most likely your boys) are loud and proud and rowdy and rough and tumble. My house is not a jungle gym, nor does it muffle sound, so indoors my sanity is stretched and pulled like an overblown balloon that you know is about to pop at any moment. My remedy...we spend most ALL our time outside. We do have a few regulations, a few things that will drive us inside. 1) R...

Over there you can barely make out my stand mixer. My plan was to make cupcakes in that stand mixer, but as is the norm around here whenever my boys notice, which is always, that I've switched activties and am about to do something new, they flock to me, buzzing around like a bunch of flies wanting to be involved. Sweet, right? Of course it is and I soak up every moment that they want to be with me. Every moment like when I go to the bathroom or get in the shower or brush my teeth or step outside on the porch to have an adult conversation on the phone. They have a sixth sense that is better named the Mommy Homing Device. They just know, like I know the sun rises in the East and sets in the West, that mommy is about to do SOMETHING. It doesn't have to be something fun or entertaining, but just something. So Saturday this mommy decided to make peach cupcakes with cream cheese and peach compote in the center and peach curd in the batter topped off with cinnammon cream cheese icing...

Since we became a transracial family in 2013, there have been many unsual things to address, overcome, learn about, and conquer. Back in February of this year, exactly one year after we brought James home, I decided he needed to visit a barber shop. I know right now you have images of Ice Cube's classic hit Barbershop  flashing through your brain, but that's the movies and we live in Frankfort, so the barbershop we visited and by we, I really mean Zack and the boys, wasn't like that. There was no sign of Ice Cube...anywhere! Visiting a barbershop was uncharted territory for us. Why you ask? Well, because we're white and we grew up going to hair salons and if you're white, getting your haircut isn't really part of your cultural experience. I do understand that for black men and boys it is and I want this for my youngest son, so "we" headed off to the barbershop. Unfortunately, James HATED it. Like full on screaming, crying, flailing, etc.  The first cut...

I'm a fan of kool-aid. I drank a lot of it when I was growing up, but I'm not a fan of Kool-aid on my carpet and well...that's the sweet gift the Sons of Thunder gave me this past Saturday. I walked in to discover a red Kool-aid spill about the size of a mighty watermelon. I died a little as I thought about the permanence of it. Would I get it up? Was my carpet cleaner strong enough to suck the red Kool-aid out of my carpet?  Well, turns out it was and there is only a faint pinkness to the carpet now. I might be the only person who sees the pinkness because the image of that red stain is burned into my brain. This fun time called for swift action by Dad who quickly instated the "No food or drink other than water on the carpet from here on." We've abided by this rule this week obligingly, probably because the boys still remember the look on my face when I discovered the spill. But today, John Owen, Mr. Strongwilled Child USA asked for a snack of goldfish, which...

I took the notion to go on a road trip with my sons of thunder, solo. No other adult...just me. Yes, I am slightly crazy, but hey good times were had with our Virginia cousins---my nieces and nephews. Here's a few pics as proof. My sweet niece Abigail. She's eleven and quite nearly perfect.  Here's a picture of both my nieces. That's little Caitlyn...she's got more sass that anyone I know, but is so much fun and a barrel of laughs! The party follows her for sure! Throw in Austin. He's fourteen and little JO trying to be all grown up, too and the party's almost complete. My nephew Zach and my sweet baby James were both napping during this picture, I believe. Zach's twelve and JM's two, but when naptime calls, you answer no matter your age. Amen? Fun was had and then the fun came to an end and the sons of thunder and I packed up Zack's truck and began the eight hour journey home. This picture was taken at about hour eleven of our journey---a journe...

February 13, 2013---Gotcha, Melaku! Gotcha for good! Melaku at nine months. Melaku at eleven months. Melaku at thirteen months and now staying with us in the guest house waiting on the US Embassy. Melaku getting ready to say good-bye to Ethiopia and hello to America. No one rocks a Hawaiian shirt like James Thurman (seventeen months). James has spent a lot of this year sleeping at the most random times. Hanging out with mama and brother---A LOT. He knows how to cheese and how to rock a bear mask! Brothers and friends. Never long without a smile and a ball. First haircut at a barbershop. Two years old. Today is James' "Gotcha Day". A year ago today we picked him up from the orphanage and took him back to the guest house. We waited a few days for clearance from the Embassy to travel and then made the arduous trip back to Kentucky and to John Owen. It has been one of the most difficult years of our lives for many rea...