So long… Farewell…

So we’ve had to end this dog-round-2.

Reasons we could give, but that’s the conclution.

Two nights ago after the new home was nearly confirmed I told the girls.  Melody was impassive, but Natasha was very sad.  Distressed.

I told her what I could, and felt how unhappy she was about it.  And prayed about it.  Thought a lot (and asked advice) about what else to say.

Came up with nothing.  Kept praying.

Next morning Natasha got up and, very cheerful and lucid (she’s not normally a morning person), explained that she was very sad last night but she thought about it and had a dream, and was thinking about it and now she knows that Shadow just has to go.

“Because, she’s just, got to go.” She gesticulated with her open hands and made that self-conscious grin and the half-laugh she gives when she’s testing the waters about being more grown-up.

Just like that.  The most simple, basic answer to prayer I could have gotten.

God is so good.

Ouch!

Natasha was playing on her bed today, flopping backwards onto her pillow. After a while she misjudged and fell into her headboard instead (there was a nasty crack).

For a while she could only cry while I held her, and wouldn’t answer my how-are-you-feeling question.

“Can you see okay?” I asked, trying a different tack. She nodded. “How about when you hit your head?”

“When I hit my head it really hurt, and my eyes twinkled.”

“Are they twinkling now?”

“No, not any more.”

///

Back on Tuesday the girls were at Ruth’s house while I was in class.

Ruth was sort of surprised at Natasha, because she’d been hitting and throwing things. When she threw a spoon into the lake Jon had to use a rake to get it out.

At that point Natasha said, “I’m ornery tonight. I didn’t get a good nap.”

Weekend Nuggets

Twice as we were driving to Wasilla and passing roadwork Natasha shouted, “Daddy!  Look!”  Both times there was the quick glacing about for the source of her delight before she pointed to the side of the road and said, “Dirt!”

We couldn’t help laughing.

On the way home the girls were asking something about clouds and where they come from and where they go.

Melody shared her content analysis matter-of-factly :  “Don’t you know– that snow and milk make clouds?”

Storytelling class

I can’t remember if I mentioned it before, but I recieved a scholarship for the Summer Arts Festival’s storytelling class.

This was very cool because I wouldn’t have been able to go otherwise.

The combination of personalities and beliefs creates an interesting chemistry.  Elisha’s been sleeping poorly again, and my awareness is  being filtered through that tiredness, so sometimes I feel like I am missing something in the interaction.

Picking a performance story for the class has been interesting, too.  My mind keeps changing and taking on new ideas (and guessing how others will perceive those ideas), shifting my thoughts about what’s appropriate for this group.

Lingering

Well, this illness has just been holding-on, finger- and toenail.

Thankfully no one else seems to have gotten sick, and I only cough when I’m tired, but that seems to be pretty consistently every evening now.

I was pretty useless last night, from a bit before Jay got home.  As much as I enjoy the license to just sit around and read, I’m beginning to want more to go for walks or take Shadow for the runs she’s not gotten in so long.

It also seems like everyone is having some species of sleep issue several nights each week. I honestly feel that we’d lose 85% of all our attitudes, disobedience and tensions here if we could fix that one problem.

But I guess that could be true of most households.

Admiring Daddy’s Work

Jay did a fantastic job cleaning up the house Saturday while the kids and I were visiting a friend.  He’d picked-up all the floors so I could see most of the living room.

I was complementing Jay again on how nice the new floor looks, thanking him again for his hard work.

“Isn’t it great?” I said to Melody.

“Yes!” said Melody, enthusiastically.   “I like the new floor.  Daddy made it all slippery and stripy.”