seven quick takes

I know, I know. Take a break from writing every once in a while. We don't need to know every detail of your fascinating life.

1.

We're settling into our "new"  home here in the great liberal mecca of our otherwise beautiful Lonestar state. I'm not being fair. There is so much about this area that we really like. It's May - the weather is about as perfect as weather can get. We are blessed to have family here; family that we haven't lived around before so it's fun getting to know them better as friends, rather than just family. And there's HEB which speaks for itself. 

We're still trying to plug into our parish and homeschooling community. Our parish is a good jaunt and marathon and sprint and car drive away but the priest is a holy, holy man and the congregation is welcoming and kind. But again with the distance. If we buy in this area, we hope to buy closer to the parish. I found a homeschool co-op to join next year so we're well on our way to making this home.

2.

In the same vein, I've finally figured out the pro-life presence in this area. A. There is one. B. There is a big one. C. It's organized. 

Remember this?

For your memory:

(Vom.)

(And again.)

I was able to be there off and on this summer praying for the passage of HB2. In fact, I had just left a little bit before this hailing of demonic powers began (thanks be to God since I had my little ones with me). Through this, I had connected with Texas Alliance For Life. I didn't realized until last week that the pro-life presence in Austin is divided into several facets - political, counseling/prayer/presence, and crisis pregnancy help. 

So I, the person who runs in the opposite direction from confrontation, was trying really hard to get involved with the political aspect of the pro-life group here (cue unending laughter here). Joseph convinced me to attend a "Ladies for Life" brunch last Saturday where I was able to meet some wonderful ladies. They're Catholic, they're pro-life, and the homeschool. Really, I'm not picky. 

3.

I think I mentioned audiobooks the last time I wrote a blog post, but really, they are the knees of the bees. I haven't seen my kids for the last hour, thanks to Cherry Jones and The Banks of Plum Creek. And an hour for a stay-at-home-homeschooling mother is something like 42 hours in regular hours. And behold, a blog post. 

4. 

I should have written a post about this, but Molly turned six two weeks ago. Six. SIIIIIIX. Somehow, the baby that was merely a twinkle in my eye yesterday is six years old. That's school age. That's losing tooth age. Sleep over at grandma's age. 

We went to Lubbock for Easter and celebrated Molly's birthday with dear friends and cousins. And I didn't lift a finger thanks to the generosity and creativity of our dear-friend-might-as-well-be-an-aunt Carla (who needs a blog for her fun creations and super cute kids) and Aunt Jessica. 

Shameless photo bragging about the beauty of West Texas. Except ignore this because I don't want you to move there and make it crowded.

How do you connect with girls between the ages of 3 and 10 right now? "Do your best Frozen pose!"  It's money, people.

Carla put together Molly's idea for a party - a St. Rose of Lima party, complete with crowns of flowers for each girl, rose bouquets, rose candies, and pink lemonade. Aunt Jessica made a rose cake (baked by Grandma). And I very creatively put a pink table cloth on the table and blew up pink balloons (correction: I pulled a Tom Sawyer on the nieces and nephews and they blew up balloons all for the fun of it). Move back, Martha, Melanie's in town. 

5.

On Molly's actual birthday, we did it up right. I took the girls to Chick-fil-A and we went to the park. So, pretty much, we painted the town pink and sparkly compared to our normal schedule. I asked Molly what she wanted to do - anything she wanted to do, anywhere she wanted to go - we would do. She asked to go to the mall. After I finished hyperventilating and my dizziness subsided, I reminded her that it wasn't Christmas, there were no sparkly lights or decorated trees, and Saint Nicholas wasn't laughing joyously from his throne of candy canes, beckoning her bedecked-in-frills-and-bows self over to him for a picture. She wasn't buying it and still wanted to go to the mall. I reminded her Potts wasn't taking her, so there wouldn't be a train ride, candy, pretzels, and cookies, and carousels. She still didn't buy it. So I bribed her with Chick-fil-A and bam, we avoided the crowds and teenagers and trashy advertisements. Mother. Of. The. Year.

6.

Molly was gifted with this:

Wrong kid. They all look the same to me.

Not her sister, this cat. This demon cat. It's "FUR REAL" so it jumps! And meows! And bats it's creepy robotic legs whenever someone walks by! It wouldn't stop screeching even while it sat innocently in the gift bag. It hasn't stopped since. I kid, we let the batteries die. I kid. We hid the cat. We're encouraging it to go the way of the dodo soon.

7.

I'm that underachieving modern-aged mother who takes a lot of pictures and does absolutely nothing with them. But hey, when I'm dead and gone, my kids can plug in my old phones and reminisce during holidays about times of old when I took many a picture of them in dangerous but cute predicaments:

See:

"Hold that panicked cry and let me grab my phone." Two things of note: 1. she really did get stuck this way and 2. she dresses herself.

And when I forced them to hold up the same number of fingers as their age because honey, mama's nothing if not forgetful.

I'll print it out for her wedding. She's six!

And then when I force them to pile on top of me because I have stunted hobbit arms and can't take a normal daughter/mommy selfie.

I'm gonna need a longer arm.

Christmas 2080 is going to be a nostalgic holiday for the Behnke girls.