Superheroes among us

And they stopped long enough for us to catch them on film!

These guys are serious.  See their muscles?

Under their supercool suits, they’re just regular guys.

They spar regularly to keep their muscles warmed up and ready to fight evildoers.

Practicing a new move.  See Batman concentrating?

When they’re not busy fighting bad guys, they’re the best of friends.

Wait – did someone say bad guys?  Up, up, and away!  Oops.  Wrong superhero.

To the Batmobile!


My crazy boy

PerryBoy makes me laugh, he makes me cry, he makes me crazy like him.  I like to emphasize the laughter, because those are the parts we want to remember.

On Monday we started using our new copy of Teach Your Child to Read in 100 Easy Lessons.  I had that book ages ago and decided it wasn’t for me, but after the other 3 moms recommended it in our recent posts about teaching little ones to read, I decided to give it another try.  Maybe it will work better for me in this season of life.  I’m a very different person than I was 10 years ago, and my circumstances are very different as well.

We sat down on my bed together and did the first lesson.  It was sweet time together and it went very well.  When it came time to practice writing “mmmm” – the book stresses that we ought to use the letter’s sound rather than its name – Perry gave it his best shot, but he wasn’t happy with the results.  He sighed heavily, laid down his pencil, and frowned at the paper.

“Mine just looks like an M!”

Yesterday I spent the day grocery shopping, and I took Kaitlyn and Parker with me.  Kaitlyn stayed in town with my sister, keeping her company while her husband worked late.  Today, she’s helping my sister run errands with her 3 little ones.

When I came home last night without Kaitlyn, PerryBoy immediately asked about her.  Feigning forgetfulness (it wasn’t hard, believe me) I confessed that I had left her somewhere and couldn’t remember where.  I was waiting for her to call so I would know where to pick her up.

He was unfazed.  He shook his head and walked away, muttering  as he went.  “You’re so weird.”

Oh, that Boy. He’s gonna get it.

I made a new rule a few weeks ago: if anyone leaves the door open when they go outside, it gets locked behind them.  I instituted the rule during a cold spell, when the kids were often making a quick run to take out the trash and planning to run right back in.  Coats are often left behind on these trips, and because they’re in such a hurry they also don’t make sure the door closes all the way behind them.

Understandably, they want back in fast. They don’t like finding the door locked.  They don’t like being forced to knock and wait – oh the humiliation – until somebody hears and unlocks the door.  Also, when you live in the country and doors rarely get locked, there’s something infuriating about finding the door locked.  Because of this, the rule was surprisingly effective.  It was so effective that we forgot about within a couple of days simply because nobody was leaving the door open any more.

This morning was cold.  I went outside in short sleeves and socks to see Perry off to work and everything was sparkling with frost.  I was cold because I had stood out there for several minutes helping him load odds and ends into his car, but then I had to run out once more to take his forgotten keys.

Can you see where this is going?  Congratulations, because I didn’t see it.

As I ran into the house for the keys and out again, I left the door slightly ajar.  When I turned back to the house, the door was shut and locked.  Locked.

I knocked – oh the humiliation – and after a long 10 seconds, The Boy opened the door, smiling innocently as if he were pleased to see me.  I scolded him, “You don’t lock the door when I’m outside!”

He looked a little surprised and truly puzzled.  “But Mom, you left the door open.  You said we’re supposed to lock the door when somebody goes out and leaves it open.”

One of these days, Boy.  One of these days.

He’s the man

Meg: Hey Perry, can I call you noodle?
Perry: No! Thats not my name.
Meg: Can I call you spaggetti?
Perry: No! I only want you to call me my name!
Meg: Can I call you Super-awesome-wolf-guy-who-can-kill-anything-he-wants-by-looking-at-it?
Perry: Yeah, I guess.

oh, and you might want to see this:


Visits with Grandma and the grand-aunts involve a lot of sugar.  We just got home from a 4 day trip to see them, and here is what I heard from Perry Boy early this morning:

Boy: Mom, can I have another sucker?

Me: Not until after breakfast.

Boy: I already had breakfast!

Me: What did you have?

Boy: Cocoa and a sucker.

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My Brother is Obviously a Genius!

Posted by Megan

Which one? Well both, but for now I’m talking about Perry.

He likes to draw. Today he handed Mom a piece of notebook paper. “This is for you, Mom. I drawed it.”

A while later, Mom was looking at the picture and realized that this child prodigy I’m so blessed to have as a brother drew these people from the perspective of a short person. They’ve got small heads, huge feet, and are craning their heads down to look at you. He’s four years old for Pete’s sake! I just thought I’d tell you, so you won’t be shocked in twenty years when he’s rich and famous.

Welcome, Parker Cromwell Coghlan

A boy.  Another boy.  I still can hardly believe it.

I love my houseful of girls, and I freely admit that I never really longed for a boy until I was already pregnant with our first son.  I can’t help but believe that was God’s hand on my heart. Before then, I just wished for a son in a theoretical way so that my husband would have a namesake.  I didn’t know the gender of our first son until he arrived, but with that pregnancy, I found myself filled with a sudden and unfamiliar longing for a son.  God answered that longing with our first son.

Since then, I have hoped for another boy, but for a different reason.  As always, I think baby girls are sweet and delightful, and will joyfully welcome any and all that come my way.  I was utterly content with my one son.  I was thankful that my girls had a brother and my husband had a son and namesake.  But one of us was still left out: the boy didn’t have a brother.  All of his sisters had a brother, but he didn’t.

He loves his little sister dearly. He takes care of her, protects her, and occasionally gets her into trouble.  But he confided in me a few months ago: “Mom, I think you should have a boy baby.  I really love Bethany, but sometimes I accidentally hurt her when we’re playing.”

Now he has a brother that he will someday be allowed to punch (i.e. rough-house with), and he can’t wait.

That’s why we needed another boy around here.  Not because I was too greedy to be satisfied with one son, but because my one son needed a brother.  I wanted him to know the joy and laughter and insanity that a boy – a brother – has brought to us.

Thank you, Lord, for this son.

My chickies

by Becca

My favorite animal out of all our animals which is dogs,cats,gerbils, chickens, snakes and tarantulas is the baby chicks.
They are only 3-4 days old. I like to go down to them whenever I can. They are still covered in fuzz, but the oldest one has little tiny bits of feathers on the tip of its wings.
Here are some pictures of them.  I cropped them in Photoshop and Mom showed me how to Save For Web so they wouldn’t take too long to load.

He’s treading on thin ice

The Boy asked earlier this week if he could go to work with his dad.  When Dad said no, his face fell briefly.

Then his eye lit on his sister – one known for being big and bossy.  We won’t mention her name.  We’ll let you try to figure it out, but we’re not telling.

So, his disappointed eye lit on The Big Bossy One and his face brightened again.

“Can she go to work with you?!”

At least he asks

From the lips of The Boy during his long-awaited naptime today:

“I’m gonna get up to hide, OK?”

Several possible answers that flashed briefly through my head.

“Is this a trick question?”

“Why?  What did you do now?

“Do you promise to hide really well, be very quiet,  and stay there a long time?”

“Sure.  Hide under your blanket.  Now.”

“Outside!  You can hide outside!  And don’t let the door hit you on your way out.”

Boring mom that I am, I just said no.  And then he had to go potty, so he’s up anyway.  I think I’ve been had…