Spring is Coming

So it's about 52 degrees outside today. I am not complaining - 52 is great! Much better than the freaking freezing cold couple of months we've had here. Spring is definitely on the way. However, 52 degrees is not T-shirt weather. Or so I'm trying to convince Tarzan. Tarzan, you see, is aptly named. He would love to run around all day in nothing but a loin cloth. We also call him our little furnace. (Or, if he's saying it, our little foo-niss) Both he and Cinderella requested a picnic, so I hauled out the Steelers blanket for him, and the pink picnic table for her, and prepared said picnic. I am wearing a t-shirt, a sweater, and a light jacket, and would really like to go back in for a pair of gloves, maybe a hat. I mean, yeah, the sun's out, but it's still pretty chilly out there, folks. But is he remotely cold in his T-shirt and nylon, unzipped jacket? NO. In fact, we battle for about 5 minutes about the fact that if he wants a picnic, he has to keep the jacket on. Poor Cinderella tries to emulate her hero big brother, but her little hands get cold, and secretly I think she's quite happy to let me win the battle of keeping her coat on.

Muddy shoes, muddy hair, muddy fingernails.

Spring is coming!!!

My brain told me to

Riding home from church today, I was giving Scooby kind of a hard time about responsibility. It was a long day for them, as I had a rehearsal after church and they had to hang out with me because Don had a leader meeting for Student Ministry at the same time. So I had told them to go downstairs to the playroom and get a few toys, then bring them upstairs where I could see them, and to play quietly.
Instead, they disappeared downstairs for 1/2 an hour, and never did bring up any toys. Come to find out, they had played in the Preschool room, not the playroom (big no-no) and not even put the toys away! Of course I didn't find this out until we were in the car on the way home. So I was lecturing about listening to directions, and taking responsibility and cleaning up after yourself. And then I added, "You're old enough to be thinking about some of these things on your own." And Cinderella adds, "Yeah, and to reach high things too." So I turn to her and say, "Who asked you?" And she says "Me. I did. My brain just told me to say that."
Can't argue with that!