You'll Shoot Your Eye Out

There’s an unspoken rule about the certain amount of restraint one must practice when it comes to grandparents—take for instance, when your 7-year-old asks Grandpa, “hey, can we make a cross-bow?” and Grandpa says, “sure.” Well, what can you do. Of course, in my mind I’m picturing his typical 7-year-old popsicle stick creations, but, no-o-o-o. It involves 2 trips to Home Depot and a whole pile of power tools and a garage full of sawdust. An afternoon later, voila, a fully functioning weapon to protect the house when wild dogs take over the world.

Maybe someday I'll be glad we have that crossbow (you know, for the wild dogs), but for now, I just hide the arrows and take lots of pictures at Halloween--it does make an awfully good Hunn accessory.

Of course, even without the arrows, the boys find other things to fire, like army men and magic markers. But, I'd say their favorite thing about the crossbow was making it with the undivided attention of their grandpa, who never once told them "no, you'll shoot your eye out."

Silent Night, Holy Night

While I am basking in the San Diego sunshine, watching my children in their T-shirts and shorts play in the cul-de-sac, I think of my best friend hunkering down under three feet of snow for yet another storm on the opposite side of the country. Now, you'll never hear me complain about warm, sunny days, but there are moments--very brief, and usually just at Christmas--when I actually miss the snow.

Snowy nights are so silent. Of course that still, quiet is broken as soon as the sun comes out and the kids wake up. They play in the snow all day long, eating it until their cheeks are the color of cranberries and ice is caked into their hair. Although they’re freezing, it’s only the early winter darkness that ends their day of fun. They come inside and leave the heap of soggy socks and gloves and mountains of parkas and pants, then the puddles of boots and tracked-in clumps of snow migrate away from the cold of the doorway. The kids plop down, curled up on the couch with hot cocoa and blankets while they watch Christmas cartoons and fall asleep (hopefully not with the hot cocoa still in their hands). Their rosy, glowing faces look like little cherubs, and I’m reminded, that this is who they truly are, angels straight from heaven. And the snow falls, and once again it’s a silent night, and with all these heavenly little angels, a holy night, too.

Random

Just because this is funny...My nephew (whom I am baby-sitting, otherwise I'd still be asleep--see bulldozer and dark chocolate) is sitting on the floor, leaning over and rubbing his eyes with his toes! Oh, the amazing things kids remind us we were once capable of. My daughter can touch her tongue to her elbow (an idea, I'm sure, put into her head by her brothers).