And since I can stretch a dollar til’ it screams, I wasn’t going to buy one until I found a REALLY deep discount. If it had to wait, so be it.

So, here is what we got, complete with tons of trains, tracks, bridges and other accessories (only a few are shown in this pic) AND a storage bench –

All for $30. Thirty dollars! I was floored. Thank you, Lord!

For right now, it’s still in the living room, but by the weekend, will be in Jonah’s room.

So he has all these cool trains, all this fun stuff to play with, but what has he latched on to?

Two little wooden signs.

They are suddenly his best friends. He carries them everywhere. He tries to pick up other things while still holding onto them.

I had to pry them out of his tight little fists to put him to bed last night. He was not happy about that, but I knew I wouldn’t be happy if he rolled over onto one in the night and it woke him up.

The first thing he did this morning was go find his signs. He tried to eat breakfast while holding them.

It’s about as bad as the kid who plays with the box instead of the toy inside…

Oh well. Whatever makes him happy!

(Can you tell I’m procrastinating on a project?) LOL

But first, a pic from my files, because what fun is a blog post without pictures?

That’s my cutie-pie Zach when he was about two. I am still in denial that he is >THIS< close to turning 14!

Now, on to the questions…

1. How did you cope with your biggest heartache?

By writing about it, and by talking with (and looking for opportunities to help) others experiencing the same.

2. Who was the last person you visited in the hospital?

It’s been so long, I don’t remember. I’m thinking it might actually be my grandmother, who passed away in August 2010!

3. How many jobs have you held in your life? How many of those were part of your chosen career field?

I am not up to counting how many jobs I’ve had — but there are a lot! Starting with Dairy Queen at age 16, to now, freelance writing from home and also doing face painting and cake decorating for birthday parties. My chosen career field was graphic design, and I do still use my art degree to some extent. But I only held two “official” graphic arts positions — one as a graphic artist in an in-house agency in Kissimmee, Florida and the other as an art director at a small sign company in Georgia.

4. How did you discover Saturday 9?

By searching Google for Saturday-themed memes.

5. If you could take the train from anywhere to anywhere, where would ‘anywhere’ be?

From here to San Francisco for a little vacation.

6. When was the first time you cooked for someone else?

I remember cooking for my family when I was about nine or ten. I remember the stove top being at chest level as I did so!

7. What is the worst beverage you’ve ever tasted?

Ooh, just one? I can’t decide on just one. Weak coffee or tea. Mint tea. Malta. That cucumber-flavored Thai version of Coke that they serve at the World of Coca-Cola in Atlanta.

8. Is there anything in life you are “certain” about? Firm in your beliefs? Strong in your convictions?

There are so many things I’m certain about. God loves us all. He has a plan for my life and works all things together for my ultimate good. Salvation comes through belief in Christ. Caring for orphans and widows is everyone’s responsibility. Liberal political policies that appear to help ultimately cause more harm than good. And I should probably just stop because I’m an opinionated ol’ girl and feel quite certain about a whole lotta things!

9. Do you know anyone who has as very unusual pet?

Yes, several. More power to ‘em! Nothing in the rodent/insect/reptile/amphibian categories will ever be called a pet in my house. (Sorry, kids — I just can’t do it!)

How ’bout we close with another picture of my cutie from that day at the park?

Such as the little bottle of “sho-shun” that was on mama’s nightstand.

She left me on her bed — SILLY MAMA! — and went into the bathroom one morning.

I believe she thought I was still asleep. HA!!!

I immediately stripped off my pajamas, then grabbed the lotion.

I love pouring things. I love splashing in the things I’ve poured, and rubbing my body with them.

(I wonder if I put the cap back on, if she won’t notice?)

(Nah. This particular mess is pretty obvious.)

And once again, I am SOOOO cute that mama could only laugh at me, and strip the bed.

When Dad put away the Christmas stockings, he left all the goodies on the dining room sideboard.

Silly Daddy.

Doesn’t he know I’ve become a pro at unwrapping candy?

Even complicated Reese’s Peanut Butter Cups! NUMMY!

If you look closely, you’ll see I reached the candy by dragging over a plastic bin to climb upon. I usually use my chair, but mom and dad had it shut up in the laundry room after I pulled this stunt too many times in one day:

So I’m a little OCD about wanting to wash my hands all day long. Is that so wrong?

The other day, I got in trouble for brushing my teeth! How crazy is that?

I think maybe it was the fact that I was IN the sink, with my pajamas on, that made Mom do that, “Oh, Jonah, NO!” thing she exclaims quite often…

Oh well. As I said, Stuff Happens when you’re two. But Mom says it’s OK, because I’m so darn cute!

They serve toast, popcorn, pretzels, jellybeans and ice cream sundaes.

My dinner plate with slightly burned cheese toast — just as I like it — on a fun, turkey-printed paper plate. They only had plain buttered toast in the Charlie Brown special, but I figured we could use a little protein!

I’m always busy cooking the night before Turkey Day, so having something so simple and fun for dinner is ideal to me! And the kids just love this little tradition. This was the first year that Jonah really knew what was going on. When he first saw his dinner plate, he did a double-take, as if he couldn’t believe his good fortune to climb into his chair and find a plate heaped with popcorn, pretzels AND candy! I couldn’t even get him to sit down for a while — he just stood there, happily shoveling popcorn into his mouth.

I love my family! And I love Thanksgiving!

And yes, I love my crazy husband with his totally goofy expressions!

In other Thanksgiving news, just for fun, I had the boys fill in a turkey poem prompt as part of their schoolwork this week. (Each sentence began with phrases to describe the turkey, such as, “It needs….” “It moves….” and they filled in the rest.)

What they came up with just cracked me up! Disturbing? Maybe if you aren’t accustomed to the ways of boys. And these sons of mine are utterly, totally, testosterone-charged BOYS!

Here is Zach’s:

It sees the gun in its face.

It hears the pump cock.

It feels the shiver down its spine.

It understands that it’s going to become dinner.

It moves left to right.

It needs to get out of sight!

It likes to get an adrenaline rush.

It wants a chase through the woods.

It eats one last berry, for good.

It dreams, asleep forever. It’s dead.

And Eli’s, with a rather humorous twist:

It sees the bazooka from far away.

It hears the bazooka fire.

It feels scared.

It understands its death.

It moves out of the way.

It needs pie.

It likes man.

It wants the man.

It eats the man.

It dreams good.

The end.

It’s a drawing and letter from one of our Compassion International kids, 5-year-old Aphichara from Thailand.

Isn’t the Thai writing just beautiful? (Of course, at 5, she dictated this to an adult who wrote it, then another person translated it for us.)

Her nickname is “Eye.” (Please don’t ask me why, because I have no idea what it means! LOL) One Thai friend suggested it might mean “shy”, another said it could mean “big.” According to what I know about her so far, she is neither shy nor big, but maybe one day, she’ll tell me herself how she acquired that name.

This is the first picture we received of her. Isn’t she precious?

And this is one that came with our new letter. She’s with her grandmother, smiling and her haircut is so cute!

I learned that Eye lives with her grandparents,  is 44 inches tall and weighs 39 pounds. Her favorite foods are watermelon and boiled eggs, she has a pet dog, she loves singing, and is very talkative in school. And I got a girly-girl! She also loves playing with dolls, her favorite flower is jasmine, and her favorite color is PINK!

I finally have a reason to buy paper dolls and sparkly princess cards and Hello Kitty stickers — all PINK!  LOL And I can use the previously-neglected girly accents in my photo editing…

I first learned about Compassion through Amanda’s and Kristen’s blogs, and was mesmerized by these moms’ stories about their sponsored children. They spoke about how much their families’ lives have been enriched by the relationships they’ve built with these children, and even told about going on trips to visit them. And I felt that all-too-familiar tugging at my mother’s heart to get involved.

We are not rich by American standards; if anything, we are on the poorer side of “middle class.” So it was a stretch financially to take on any new commitments. But God has shown me again and again that He blesses those who give, so I don’t have to be afraid to share a portion of our budget in charitable giving. I love how Compassion uses our small offering to be Jesus’ hands and feet to a needy, hurting child and her family, to bless them in His name.

I’m not writing about this to pat myself on the back. Rather, it’s to share about our experience and hopefully encourage others to do the same. It’s so easy here in America — where even our poorest live richer than most of the world’s population — to dwell on what we don’t have, to envy those who are wealthier than us and simply not think about the realities of living in extreme poverty.

But we need to think about it. We gripe if our clothes are more than a year or two old, not considering what it would be like to own exactly one outfit and no shoes. We buy expensive filters to further purify the already-clean drinking water that flows from our tap, while others walk for miles to bring home one pail of questionable-quality water. We get mad if the restaurant cooks our steak wrong, while others are just thankful to have a bowl of rice, only on some days of the week. We complain that we need a bigger bed, while half the world has never had the privilege of even owning a mattress.

We think nothing of dropping substantial sums on life’s frills, such as cable TV, a cell phone upgrade, or taking the family to the movies. But in India, a family of four tries to live on $37 per month, in a house built of mud, with dirt floors and a grass roof, like 12-year-old Basu, our correspondence Compassion child.

We were matched with Basu when I learned of Compassion’s correspondence program. If you truly can’t afford to sponsor a child (or another one, as the case may be) you can ask about being matched with one just as a pen-pal. Some kids, like Basu, have sponsors that pay the monthly sponsorship but for various reasons, never write. These kids are so disappointed to never hear their name called on mail day! So it’s an honor to be able to encourage them through prayer, letters and by sending things like stickers, paper airplanes, greeting cards and basically anything else made of paper that kids enjoy having. (The “paper only” rule is due to postal regulations.) We might actually ask for another correspondence child or two, because writing to them really is so much fun!

I waited to tell Zach and Eli about Eye and Basu until our first day of homeschooling this year. I wasn’t sure what their reactions would be — they’re great kids, but I thought they’d be all hum-drum, oh, mom’s found us another hobby, OK, whatever…

But I was delightfully, blessedly, humbly wrong. I’m sure I’ll write more about this in the months to come, but they were both completely enthralled with “adopting” these kids into our family. They immediately wanted to know how they could send them money, then asked a dozen questions about each child. Then they wanted to look up information about Thailand and India, and promised to pray for them daily. And they have honored that promise– a few times I’ve forgotten and they’re like, “Mom — we have to pray for Eye and Basu!” And then we do. It’s been utterly heartwarming to see their generous spirits further expand and to read the letters they so carefully wrote for each of these children. It has given my sons an entirely new perspective on just how blessed we are and how much we all have to give.

Please — click the link in my sidebar to learn more about Compassion and to see some of the cutest kids on the planet. And if your heart feels stirred as mine did, prayerfully consider that maybe God is also nudging you to sponsor one of those precious little souls. The needs are just so great, and we can help — we truly can — if we are willing.

“For everyone to whom much is given, of him shall much be required…” ~Luke 12:48

I prayed for a calm, peaceful child. I even named him Jonah (Hebrew for ‘dove’, the symbol of peace) because of what it meant. I just knew that a God that would bless me with a third baby so late in life would know that I needed a quiet, peaceful, laid-back child and grant me that accordingly.

Well…you know what they say about assuming things, don’t you?

You already know about his outrageously terrible sleeping habits. But the child is an absolute monkey! Which is probably why he laughs in glee whenever Curious George comes on TV. He senses a real kindred spirit there.

Yesterday, he found a black (thankfully, washable) marker and climbed into the empty hutch cabinet he’s claimed as his own. (We call it “Jonah’s Hideaway.”) He then proceeded to tattoo himself—thankfully, avoiding his face.

Because “washable” black marker leaves semi-permanent green marks over pale human skin. (Kinda like real tattoos as they age, huh?)

He stole the camera and took some more photos of his face. Here is a collage I made of just a few of the dozens of Jonah-self-portraits I found when I uploaded my pics:

He dragged a chair over to the sideboard in the dining room and emptied the entire salt shaker over the the antique Scrabble board game on top of the sideboard, the chair, his feet and the floor.

And ten minutes ago, he walked up and grabbed my arm. And his hand was sticky.

And that is never a good sign.

Except this time, it was a truly terrible sign, because then I smelled it.

Yeah, my young primate had been digging in his diaper. I guess he needed to learn more about those nasty presents he makes for us every day.

And I’m all “Ohmygosh…ohmygosh…ohmygosh—DONNIEEEEEEEEEEEE!”

Thankfully, the husband was home, and thankfully, the child loves to wash his hands. Just loves it. If he could choose between Disney World and a sink with stool beside it, he’d go for the sink every time.

So we washed, not just hands, but legs and feet. And of course, my arm. And the floor. And then we changed the diaper, and put little Houdini back in his cloth diapers, whose bulletproof covers do not provide anywhere near the easy access he has in disposables.

(Confession time: we got used to using ‘sposies while on vacation a few weeks ago and slipped back into our Huggies habit. Not anymore! Another huge benefit of cloth diapering!)

You know, neither of the other boys ever played with their poop. Zach couldn’t stand getting his hands dirty–the first time I presented him with finger paints, he writhed and moaned like I was torturing him. Eli was a messy child, and has always loved getting his hands into stuff. But the thought of poo-painting never, ever occurred to him.

So I (smugly, wrongly) thought that we just didn’t make “those” kind of kids, the kind that would actually play in their own poop.

Ha!

I guess if you have enough kids, you end up getting one of every kind.

Let’s just hope that he doesn’t figure out how to break into his cloth diapers anytime soon. Because what happened today is MORE than enough for me!

I wish I had a better camera to capture the colorful remains of Jonah’s snack and coloring time this morning.

Better start looking for those missing purple and black crayons!

Hey, there’s more than one way to have church. But I digress.

So, here is Jonah clinging to my shirt, eyes pleading:

“I know this room is adorably decorated and filled with fun toys and cute kids to play with who are all close to my age, but Mama, PLEASE don’t leave me in this most horrible of all horrible places!!!”

But of course, he saw that I wasn’t going anywhere, and soon released his death-grip, taking ever-lengthening journeys away from me. He made it all the way over to the TV, where Veggie Tales was playing.

Then he played a bit next to Mr. T:

And then Jonah picked up the baby doll on top of the toy bin.

I thought, “Oh how sweet! He doesn’t have a doll at home. He wants to cuddle the baby doll!”

He studied that smiling, bald-headed, hard plastic face a moment, then turned to me and….

“WAAAHHHHH!” He totally burst into terrified tears! He flung the doll into my arms, and I was like, “Jonah, look, it’s just a baby doll. This is how you cuddle the baby,” and held it to my chest.

Which only made him freak out even more, that his beloved mother was cuddling that…THING. That most awful, human-looking but not-human-feeling THING.

I wondered if maybe it wasn’t the doll but another random toddler fit, so I turned the doll around so Jonah could see its face, wiggled it, and said “Hi, Jonah!”

At which time my boy fell into a heap, bawling, while I and the other mothers in the room did a terrible job of restraining our laughter.

I mean, honestly, it wasn’t Chucky! Just a precious-faced little baby doll that totally terrorized the heck out of my son.

I shouldn’t laugh, but…bwahahaha! Poor kid. I guess it is a really good thing he doesn’t have any sisters!

When I dressed Jonah this morning, we counted aloud as I did his buttons.

“One!”

“Wun!”

“Two!”

“Tewww!”

“Three!”

“Four!”

(He knew what came next! And he’s not even two yet!)

“That’s right! Four comes next! Smart boy! Four…and…five!”

“NO!”

Because every interaction must conclude with a toddler’s favorite word, don’t you know?