Laughing At Stuff That’s [Not] Funny

I don’t know, I must just have a weird sense of humor.  But some things are just plain funny to me.  Over the years, I have learned that it is not always appropriate to laugh and point when I’m struck with a fit of giggles over something, especially in public settings.  If I try really hard, I usually can control at least the pointing.

Here are some things that recently have had me snorting.

• “Fashion Against AIDS“…as opposed to “Fashion For AIDS”?  Am I the only one who thinks that’s a ridiculous name?  And is fashion really all that great at fighting against things?  *ponder*  I suppose it could be used to fight against something.  Like those jackets with lots of zippers and chains.  They look like they’d be a good tool in any fight.  Except maybe the fight for an airline boarding pass.  Those metal detectors are picky sometimes.
• Things that upset my daughter are usually funny, but of course I can’t laugh at them.  Not while she’s around anyway.  Later, I laugh.  And tell everyone I can find to listen.  Like yesterday when she came in crying and sopping wet (in her bathing suit).  At first she tried to make it sound like she was crying because a bunch of boys had hit her.  Then it came out that it was because, “We were playing with the water and then it was every man for himself and it didn’t go very well for me.” Sob, sob, sob!
• Another thing that I feel I shouldn’t laugh about, but really want to (and do), is Engrish.com.  It’s not appropriate at all.  At ALL. But it inspires serious snorts over here.
• The people who canvass our neighborhood to spread the word about their church.  Yes, okay, this is not nice for me to laugh at them.  But really.  Picture, if you will, a completely average-looking suburban dweller.  You know, shops at Kohl’s, has kids at State Street School, borrows stuff from the neighbors. Okay, got it in your mind?  These are not the people who come to my door asking me to visit their church. The people at the door tend to be far from average.  Either really short, or really tall.  Bright red hair, or a graying perm.  Shopping not at Kohl’s.  Or at all.  I don’t think it is the people themselves I want to laugh at.  What gets me going is their standard non-standardness.  They are so like each other, but unlike so many others.  And that concept, for some reason, is pure hilarity to me.  I don’t quite get myself most of the time.
• This subskate thing.  You might have seen it in the toy section of your local RiteAid.  It looks highly unlikely that any kid would use it for long.  I may be wrong, I mean, my brother and I spent a lot of time in the summer using everyday objects in some super-cool ways for way longer than any adult would have, I’m sure.  But really.  This thing is just lame, and if I see you with one, I will point and laugh and not even try to contain myself.  Unless you’re a little kid.  Then I will do it behind your back, just to be kind.
• Okay, one more.  I saw an eyebrow comb at Wal-Mart.  I suppose people could need one, but it struck me as funny anyway.

I hope you’ve enjoyed this post.  Feel free to hit that ole ignore button, just to be safe for next time.

Girlfriends Road Trip to PA

Jill, Laura, and Eva (and Ben), picture taken by Janet

The city of Philadelphia, in Legos.  This was at the Franklin Institute.

Bottled water, named for my daughter.

Janet hosted us for our weekend.  My room had a lovely view of her lacy-looking, whispery Locust Tree.  I want one.

We saw lots of farms like this one.

The roads came after the farms, I think.  While on this road, we almost had to drive through the barn before making the turn.  It reminded me of another road that Fran and Jenn and I used to drive on in the White Mountains of NH, where it went through someone’s back yard.  (“Excuse us!”)

Some very cute ponies near a craft shop we stopped at.  I didn’t feel weird taking pictures of the animals and buildings, but I avoided taking pictures of the people, as if they were local oddities.

Okay, so I did take this man’s photo.  It was from far away though, and I didn’t get out of the car and point.

This place…just…whoa.  It does not fit here pretty much at all.  It would look better in Las Vegas.  It even had a fountain.  No show girls or slots though.  It’s the Millennium Theater of the Sight and Sound production company.  The show was a spectacular musical of the life of Joseph.  I found the whole experience surreal.

Just to the right of the edge of the photo, four Amish children played.  It would have made a nice photo.  I resisted, though, thinking how I would feel if strangers got out of their cars and started photographing my own children. So just picture it in your mind.

Marge Simpson, hiding the Check Engine light.  Jill, driving.  This was just before she began to panic because the gas was approaching the EEK level, without a gas station in sight.

Fun!!

Thanks, Janet and Chuck, for opening your home to us (not that you could say No to Jill anyway).

Medical Adventures

We’re spending some time at CHaD with our [foster] baby as she has been admitted to the hospital with pneumonia.

Acadia asked if the doctors took out her lungs.  (No, they didn’t.)

What conflicting feelings when one of the kids is sick!  I want to be with her, but I don’t want to ignore the other kids, who are also sick with colds/strep.  Asking other people to watch them when they are sick…not on my list of fun things to do.  And yet all I want to do is to hold that cranky little one and try to make her forget that she doesn’t feel good.

I’ve also got protective feelings for Brian, who is sick with this coughing, nasty cold too, and who slept last night on one of those pull-out chairs that is generously called a “cot”.  He won’t say if he needs a break, so I try to guess when he does and force him.  Yeah, that doesn’t work well.

Some of the folks who work at CHaD are Christians, and I love the fact that we can talk about God with someone there.

I’m thankful for Brian’s job, which has allowed him to take time off for the baby, both for court and illness.  Not everyone has such a reasonable employer to work for.  Or any employer, for that matter.

Our friends are amazing people.  One fellow mom gave me her car to use to bring baby to the hospital, then stayed with my kids for hours, all the while missing her own little one.  I know she doesn’t do it so I will thank her, but just because that’s what friends do.  (I will thank her profusely, however, for washing the dishes and tidying up a mess that was already there when she arrived!!)  I see Christ in you, and in the many people who have offered to help, not just for this incident, but at many opportunities.

Once again I will say it: parenting is not for the faint of heart.

Home From The Holidays

We came home from visiting Brian’s folks. The house was still standing, which I noted with nostalgia (we always said that when my parents and my brother and I came home from a long trip).  Upon entering it, however, we kind of wished it weren’t.

The cat, may she rest in peace, for whatever reasons had neglected to use the litterbox for much of the week. Instead, she used the floors.  In order to put our kids to bed, we had to navigate a hallway and bathroom filled with randomly-placed landmines of poop and vomit. While holdig our dozes and talkig like dis. We skipped the tooth-brushing that night. The less time spent in the bathroom, the better.

Brian and I got rid of the biggest (*GAG*) piles before we went to bed.  Praise God that He had nudged me to close all the bedroom doors before we left.

So then, with the moral support of two friends-in-deed, I began the major cleanup the next day.  UGH. In addition to the cat’s mess, I also got to experience the remnants of one of Gannon’s sleepwalking episodes. One where he thought he’d gone into the bathroom and peed in the potty, when in reality he was still in his room and was standing in front of a toybox.

Oh yeah, I also took the cat to the vet and had it euthanised*. Then I took it home and the kids and I buried it deep under the flowerbed.  After we had a time of sitting on the couch with it, petting it and remembering what sort of a cat she was.  We also took the opportunity to examine the general anatomy of cats without being gouged.  That part was Gannon’s idea.  As we sat on the couch, leaning over the dead cat between us, I felt like perhaps a huge blinking sign was over our livingroom, reading “PSYCHO HOMESCHOOLERS”.  It was a unique experience.  I can only hope.

The next day, as I was grumbling about the mess I was still cleaning out of the upstairs carpets, Acadia brightly and optimistically offered, “At least the cat’s dead now, Mom!”  Ah, a girl after her Dad’s own heart.

So yeah, our Thanksgiving was nice.  Then December started.  I am expecting the stomach bug and/or plague of frogs to be arriving soon.  As psycho homeschooler, we will dissect the frogs.  Maybe find a recipe or two for a healthy meal of them.  And do a lapbook on the Exodus of the Hebrews from Egypt.

*I did not do this without much thought and agonizing emotion. And a check for $88 to the vet.

The ScullyCat is Back

We are cat owners once again.  This particular cat lived with us for a few years before we had kids, then went to live with someone else when Gannon was due to come into the world.  We gave her up for a couple of reasons.  One was that she wasn’t all that tolerant of being pestered, and she’d scratch.  Another was that, compared to how I felt about my first child, I didn’t like her anymore.  Sorry, but it’s true.  So instead of kicking her to the curb, we let her go live in a beautiful house with huge windows and lots of birds in the trees outside of them.  I am sure it was luxury compared to our little apartment, which featured frequent train passings and little else.

The people who owned her after us, their circumstances have changed, and they asked if we would like her back.  I was excited about the idea because, to quote my friend Doris, “Everybody needs a nice kitty.”  So we accepted the offer and last week she arrived!

We still don’t have a nice kitty.  Instead, we have Scully.  I crack myself up.

Yes, she really is this annoyed by our presence. Maybe she is saying, "This IS my good side."

The kids are trying to get her to smile. Is it working?

Burdens

I john 3:19-23

By this we shall know that we are of the truth and reassure our heart before him; for whenever our heart condemns us, God is greater than our heart, and he knows everything. Beloved, if our heart does not condemn us, we have confidence before God; and whatever we ask we receive from him, because we keep his commandments and do what pleases him. And this is his commandment, that we believe in the name of his Son Jesus Christ and love one another, just as he has commanded us.

But how often does my heart condemn me? More than I like to admit.

Four of my friends are really hurting right now because of serious disappointment.  Two sets of parents, a few days and a few thousand miles apart, were expecting to begin parenting their newborns right about now.  They were expecting to be holding them, doing all the things that parents do for their newest babies and introducing them to their older siblings.

But it’s not happened.  One baby lies in the NICU and the other with a birthmother who has had second thoughts.  Someone else is taking care of these babies.

Where is God? we ask.  Why aren’t they in the arms of these parents who love God and love each other and love their children with a ferocious passion?  Is it fair that they’ve had their hopes taken away?  They have kept God’s commandments in loving Him and each other.  Why haven’t they received what they have asked for?  And why should the babies have their lives affected like this?  Haven’t we seen enough suffering?  I can ask this question personally and globally.

Where is God?

…more to come…

Already, a Discovery!

School hasn’t even started for the year, and my kids already have been learning. Here at the Dellinger household, every day is a school day. After some experimentation, it was discovered that plastic animals can stick to the ceiling if enough blue sticky-tack is used on their feet. This works even with the big dinosaurs.

You’ll have to use your imaginations on this one. Even though it was a great sight, I hesitated to photograph the process at the risk of condoning such behavior.

But it was funny. And creative.

Should I mention it on our report to the state? Hee hee.

p.s. If you want to see other people’s inventive uses of Sticky Tack, you can google the term and look at people’s images. Interesting. I also personally know one person (who shall remain nameless) who tried chewing it like gum. She was disappointed in the result.

A Summer Drama

Noah: "She will love getting splashed! This will be fun!"

Acadia: "NOAH!!!!" Noah: "?"

Acadia: "You are so immature." Noah: "..."

Noah: "I will never understand girls." Acadia: "He is nonexistent to me."

Some liberty has been taken in the dialogue.

Please Pray

Friends of ours are going through a challenging situation right now. One of their kids was diagnosed with leukemia this week and has begun what might be a long treatment plan. I didn’t ask them for permission to share identifying information, but God knows who they are. So if you want to pray for them, God has it all under control.

Thanks.

Return from Camp Spofford

*NOTE: If Courtney S. reads this (you know who you are!), please leave a comment so I know you’ve found the blog. Thanks!)

**ANOTHER NOTE: For some reason I never published this post till now, even though I wrote it days ago. Sorry. Thanks for reminding me, Fran!

I’m just going to toss these photos up here and not bother with captioning them, just because I am tired of sitting at this computer. My kids are tired of me sitting at this computer, too!

We also have lots of pictures of the kids with their friends from camp, old and new, but I didn’t feel right about putting pics of other people’s kids on the internet without their permission. Not everyone is as comfortable with having an internet presence as I am. So yeah.