Ramblings.......and Grandma's hands

Why is it that I have the best intentions to get so much done after the girls are in bed and then when that time comes I just don't feel like doing anything but getting into my bathtub and reading my book?

Today I felt so productive.  You know, one of those days where you just seem to get a lot  done.  As my day went on I kept adding to my list since I was accomplishing so much.  So here I sit with a list of things I planned to get done, but now I  just don't feel like it.

I got up early.  Mike is out of town so I am solo.  I got the lunches started and oatmeal on before it was time to wake the girls.  After doing all four heads of hair the girls ate breakfast.  I don't know about breakfast at your house, but these girls can eat.  They had oatmeal, eggs, toast, banana bread, fruit and juice.  We have some new rules in our house due to things getting really, umm...lax around here.  Is lax a word?  The girls eat at the counter in the morning and they were starting to just get up and take some of their dishes to the sink.  I was beginning to feel like the waitress again, so the rule is, if you leave any part of your breakfast dishes out and this includes your trash, you have to wash or dry any dishes in the sink.  Today Meilynn left her dishes on the counter, so after school she will put away the dishes.

The other rules we are working on are:
Running in the house- I have tried almost everything to stop this.  It is just a safety issue.  We have hard tile floor and a step up form one room to another, stairs, and just the danger of running into someone else.  So the consequence is one lap for each year of your age in our back yard.  Lily broke this rule the first day and had to run 10 laps around the backyard.  The first few laps she was laughing and thinking it was fun, but by the 7th she was already dragging.  No one has broken that rule since the first day it was in place.  Now I  know that is too good to be true, since it is something we have been trying to stop forever.

Wiping your hands together to get food crumbs off your hands or wiping them on the floor=sweep whole kitchen.  One of the girls started wiping their hands together to get the crumbs off and then the others began doing this.  I can't stand it.

Eating with hands.  We have one that just can't stop doing this.  So if she does it she has to go eat outside alone.  I mean if you are going to eat like an animal then you should eat like an animal.  At least I won't have to watch it.

Ok, I think you get the idea.  There are just two more but I have got completely off subject.  I was talking about my productive day.  It doesn't help that I have had one wake-up with a bad dream in the middle of typing this.  So now I just want to finish this post to get into my book.

Back to my day.  I got the lunches made, the girls off to school.  Jilliana and I dropped by the piano teachers to pick up a few of Emma's new books, and then we went to the grocery store.  When we got home we played play dough,  I made a slow cooker chicken to have another night.

This is actually the things I put into the pot after the chicken to make chicken stock for chicken soup.

Jilliana and I then made jello for dessert tonight.  (It is not on our real food plan, but it is a sometime food)
I made Jilliana a quick lunch of pea soup, cheese, fruit kabob, carrots and hummus.

Then Jilliana and I worked on a little school work that I do with her.  She beat me at the memory game three times.

We talked to Kami on Skype, and then it was time to get the girls.
I could go on with this day, but boring.  The point is I felt really good about getting so much done.
Fast forward to bedtime and someone had a major breakdown and missed the story.  I guess the name of this post was appropriate.  Ramblings, since that is all it seems that I am doing.

I was really going to write a post on "Thats Not Fair", guess I will save that for another day.  And, oh yeah, the Italy trip.......hmmm, not enough hours in my day.

I will leave you with a few pictures.  My favorite is the last one!

 Jilliana licking the whipped cream for the Jello

 Meilynn

Who would believe that one of these girls would have a major breakdown an hour later.  And it was not the little one.

I love this picture!  It is my Mom helping Jilliana on one of her projects.  Jilliana spent so much time trying to get this right.  The box said it was for 6 and up.  She is 5, but she stuck with it.  I love the way she has her little arm over Grandmas.  Looking at their hands reminds me of an e-mail I got years ago and saved.



Grandma, some ninety plus years, sat feebly on the patio bench.
She didn't move, just sat with her head down staring at her hands.

When I sat down beside her she didn't acknowledge my presence and the
longer I sat I wondered if she was OK.

Finally, not really wanting to disturb her but wanting to check on her
at the same time, I asked her if she was OK. She raised her head and
looked at me and smiled. 'Yes, I'm fine, thank you for asking,' she
said in a clear voice strong.

'I didn't mean to disturb you, grandma, but you were just sitting here
staring at your hands and I wanted to make sure you were OK,' I
explained to her.

'Have you ever looked at your hands,' she asked. 'I mean really
looked at your hands?'

I slowly opened my hands and stared down at them. I turned them
over, palms up and then palms down. No, I guess I had never really looked at
my hands as I tried to figure out the point she was making..

Grandma smiled and related this story:

'Stop and think for a moment about the hands you have, how they have
served you well throughout your years. These hands, though wrinkled
shriveled and weak have been the tools I have used all my life to
reach out and grab and embrace life.

'They braced and caught my fall when as a toddler I crashed upon the
floor.

They put food in my mouth and clothes on my back. As a child, my
mother taught me to fold them in prayer. They tied my shoes and pulled
on my boots. They held my husband and wiped my tears when he went off
to war.

'They have been dirty, scraped and raw , swollen and bent. They were
uneasy and clumsy when I tried to hold my newborn son. Decorated
with my wedding band they showed the world that I was married and loved someone
special.

They wrote my letters to him and trembled and shook when I
buried my parents and spouse.

'They have held my children and grandchildren, consoled neighbors, and
shook in fists of anger when I didn't understand.

They have covered my face, combed my hair, and washed and cleansed the
rest of my body. They have been sticky and wet, bent and broken, dried
and raw. And to this day when not much of anything else of me works
real well these hands hold me up, lay me down, and again continue to
fold in prayer.

'These hands are the mark of where I've been and the ruggedness of life.

But more importantly it will be these hands that God will reach out
and take when he leads me home. And with my hands He will lift me to
His side and there I will use these hands to touch the face of
Christ.'

I will never look at my hands the same again. But I remember God
reached out and took my grandma's hands and led her home.

When my hands are hurt or sore or when I stroke the face of my
children and husband I think of grandma. I know she has been stroked and
caressed and held by the hands of God.

I, too, want to touch the face of God and feel His hands upon my
face.
Author Unknown