As I sit here with my hands hovering over the keyboard, I cannot think of a single thing our family has done in the last two weeks. I mean, I know we didn’t just sit on the sofa all day, twiddling our thumbs, silently contemplating whether pink and red really do clash, but on this Sunday afternoon, I have zero recall on anything that has occurred in the last 14 days and certainly nothing jumps out as being especially interesting or exciting. Perhaps this is a sign that by Lord’s Day afternoon my brain is damaged goods and I should reschedule the day of the week I post. Because of this, please proceed with caution. Who knows what I’ll say next; it’ll be a surprise for us all.

I do know that Caleb found himself at the bottom of a pile of extremely eager seven and eight year olds as the pinata finally broke open, spilling its contents all over the ground around him, and the father of the birthday boy had to pull him out before he was trampled. Though safe from being crushed, Caleb decided to pit his socked feet against our carpeted stairs and lost the battle, sustaining a very badly hurt appendage. Might it be broken? Maybe? Do I want to bring him back to the Allan’s private and personally funded orthopedist? Not exactly…

I know James checked a book out of the library called Backyard Rockets. While I won’t say that James doesn’t use his brain, there are signs everywhere that his head is in the clouds. I can only assume the detritus of paper, tape, matchsticks, empty bottles, baking soda, and cork littering the house and surrounding grounds means he’s having a blast. Unbelievably, no one has been injured through James’s attempts to launch his creativity, but I don’t recommend you try them at home. 

I know Anna made me laugh every day and was recently mistaken as a 14 year old by someone and sadly, I can see why. Where did my little girl go? She has taken her love of gems and fancy rocks to new heights by joining a rock climbing club and counts down the days and hours until the next session. It’s hard to keep her grounded, but at least this is a solid experience.

I know Ellie. I also know she enjoys working at Chick-fil-A and takes after her Aunt Heather in bringing home as much food and candy as she can for her siblings. I also know I have to go to the restaurant during each of her shifts to keep all the boys at bay. Don’t worry, Ellie, I’ll wear sunglasses. I’m mostly kidding. Besides dodging boys, Ellie dodges mornings as much as possible, preferring the status of night owl over the early bird.  When she does rise and shine, she does it with all the grace and beauty of a capuchinbird.

I know Isaac has three weeks left of his senior year of high school and I cannot believe that is a fact. He’s just about made up his mind on whether or not to do his laundry today, so I think he’s ready for college. He was accepted to each institution to which he applied, and if he applies himself some more, he just may accept one of the institutions.

I know Jake also has three weeks left until he’s halfway through his university years, to which Anna says, rather indignantly, “there’s no way he’s halfway through; he’s already done,” because she misses him, I think.  I just told Anna I thought of a few more things I could have updated you all on, such as the sports awards event we attended at the local Christian school where the girls play volleyball and basketball. She said, “That’s something you could write about for Jake.”

“But he wasn’t even at this one!” 

“You’re right; he missed out,” replied my cheeky girl, “and that’s something you know about Jake.”

I know Danny is the best and thanks to a mid-April storm has a much better working knowledge of a generator’s carburetor and how easy it is to flood it and if that happens your house has no running water and then you find out how much your wife enjoys auditioning for the role of Caroline Ingalls.

I know I am not Caroline Ingalls.