I haven’t had coffee yet. Why haven’t I had my coffee yet? I don’t even know. Oh! I remember! I needed to write two emails first thing in the morning before my ADD kicked in and I got distracted for the next 13 hours. So, no coffee yet. Result: I cannot insure the normal quality of Takes you’ve come to expect here at Clan Donaldson.
Winner of the Clan Donaldson Six Year Blogoversary giveaway!
I have to admit that I really wanted Madeline to win, since her daily tweets about the giveaway cracked me up:
However, rafflecoptr’s random winner selection wasn’t affected by my Jedi mind-tricking. Instead, the lovely Ashley wins it, and with baby no. 3 on the way soon, I think it’s perfect. Good job, Rafflecoptr, and thank all of you who spend part of your day with me here.
Every morning, our thoughtful children help Ken and I ease into another day by coming into bed with us. At 6 in the morning. All the kids. Starting with John-Luke, there is a steady parade of kids who want to snuggle up with us. Ken and I, refusing to open our eyes yet, lay there and allow ourselves to be turned into a jungle gym, until the Child Army succeeds in driving us downstairs to make them breakfast.
Today during Super Happy Fun Time, I overheard Gabriel discussing anatomy with Veronica.
“Rocka, do you know what your booty’s for?”
This was enough to rouse me from my early morning stupor. Ken and I have never taught the kids euphemisms for body parts, and the word “booty” particularly sets my teeth on edge.
“Gabriel, don’t use the word ‘booty’. It’s vulgar.”
Without even a pause, Gabriel continued. ”Rocka, do you know what your ca-ca maker’s for?”
Fellow parents of Lego-fanatics, I have a question. Do the heads of your kids’ minifigures seem to disappear at a ridiculous rate? They do around here. The torsos and legs stick around, but for some reason the heads up and leave.
My kids have come up with some interesting improvisations in the face of this oddity.
From left to right (or less creepy to full on freaky): Greyhead, Flat Jester, and Blue Block. Nice job, kiddos.
When I write my weekly articles for Aleteia, I always suffer mightily. I know I was hired for my humor, and not for my puddle of theological knowledge, but I always find myself trying to channel my inner Jen or Simcha. So there I am every Monday morning, two hours before deadline, freaking out because I just can’t come up with some sparkling gem of an article, one so accessible and breathtaking that it will immediately go viral and sweep the Internet with theological brilliance.
I know, I know . You’re supposed to play to your strengths. Use the gifts God gave you, blah blah blah. But when God gave you a sense of humor and a lot of little kids, and you write for a serious sort of publication, you begin to feel like Jimi Hendrix playing with the Beatles, you know? Like you’re in the wrong band (yes, that’s a comic book reference, for you sharp-eyed nerds).
This week, I sort of gave up on trying to be smarty and intellectual, and just wrote about Minecraft. Fittingly, it’s now one of my most popular pieces for them.
Hey. The world needs jesters too, right? We can’t all be sages.
Creepers are terrible. They really are.
There! Seven pre-coffee takes. Now you go see Jen, and I’ll go see my Keurig.