The Seattle Rain Streak ended . . . without setting a record. But yesterday, rain did fall as we drove home from church. The official rain gauge at the Sea-Tac airport, however, stayed rainless, so officially, we only had twenty-seven straight days of rain.

Today, raindrops kept falling on my head. I noticed while I was out and about (without kids!) that no one uses an umbrella or even hoods. We just pretend that rain is not sprinkling onto our heads and leaving puddles in the parking lots.

I find it especially annoying that the rain continues, yet the thirty-three day record eludes us. After all, we’ve lived through twenty-seven days of rain . . . twenty-nine, if you count yesterday and today . . . yet, we’ll have no bragging rights.

Did you know that Oahu holds a record for 247 consecutive days of rain?

Breaking News: On the television news station, I hear that Olympia, Washington, is still in the running for a Rain Record, thirty days and counting.

I’ve been extremely busy the past few days . . . napping and decluttering and watching four hours’ worth of television. Those of you who are fans of “24” know what I’m talking about. I seldom park myself in front of the television, but I’ve watched every episode of “24” and I eagerly awaited the start of the new season last night. I rushed through the bedtime routine at record speed and unceremoniously deposited my daughter in her bed without lingering. It sounded like this: “Thislittlelightofmine, I’mgonnaletitshine, thislittlelightofmine, I’mgonnaletitshine, letitshineletitshineletitshine. . . ” and so on.

Tomorrow, we’ll be back to our regular schedule. Childcare, doing school-at-home, laundering clothes, cooking dinner, singing songs at regular speed, reading two bedtime books, deciding what to be when I grow up, dodging raindrops. You know, the usual.

6:10 a.m.: Roll over and realize husband is in the shower. But alarm did not ring. Realize through groggy haze that I set alarm for 5:45 p.m. rather than a.m.

7:10 a.m.: Wake to the sound of daughter repeatedly yelling “Mommy!”

7:13 a.m.: Crawl back under covers for “ten more minutes.”

7:47 a.m.: Shower.

8:15 a.m.: Insist that 7-year old quit playing Nintendo and get dressed.

8:30 a.m.: Feed 7-year old.

8:35 a.m.: Ten-month old baby arrives, sleeping. Put him upstairs for nap.

8:45 a.m.: Son leaves for school.

9:00 a.m.: Begin cleaning kitchen. Urge boys to begin school work. Put laundry from washer to dryer and from dryer to basket. Clean litter box, feed cats.

10:00 a.m.: Finish cleaning kitchen. Three-year old boy arrives. Put potatoes and steak into crockpot and call it “stew.”

10:03 a.m.: Fake telephone call to school district office to inquire about enrolling extremely reluctant student in middle school.

10:15 a.m.: Firmly direct extremely reluctant student in method of following directions in writing memoir.

10:20 a.m.: Listen to extremely reluctant student shout, stomp and break pencil. Ignore unwanted behavior.

10:30 a.m.: Baby awakes. Tend to his needs.

10:35 a.m.: Continue to monitor progress of extremely reluctant student. Realize the validity of the viewpoint of those who believe “nature” takes precedence over “nurture.”

11:45 a.m.: Mom of 10-month old arrives to spend lunch break with baby. Boys make their own lunch. Prepare lunch for 3-year olds.

Noon: Extra kids arrive for the day. Sisters, age 3 and 1.

12:30 p.m.: Four-month old arrives with stuffy nose. Warm bottle and feed her. Son returns from half-day at school.

12:45 p.m.: Ten-month old returns. Mom points out that he apparently has a cold, which explains his lack of napping. Put one-year old down for nap in playpen. She cries.

1:00 p.m.: Put 3-year old boy to nap on the couch. Put 3-year old girls upstairs to watch PBS before naptime. Put 4-month old down for nap. Rock 10-month old until asleep. Lay him down, pretend he actually continues to sleep. Neighbor boys knock at door. Refuse to let them enter.

1:30 p.m.: Escort 3-year olds to potty. Lay down for naptime. Sternly warn visiting 3-year old that it’s naptime. Refuse her demands of “mommydaddy!” “Drink!” “Door open!” “Watch t.v.!”

2:00 p.m.: Wake from light sleep and realize 3-year olds are asleep. Hear baby.

2:01 p.m.: Rock 10-month old and wipe his runny nose.

2:20 p.m.: Hear screaming. Return dozing 10-month old to crib. Rush screaming 3-year old from room to prevent her from waking up others. Leave her downstairs with toys.

2:21 p.m.: Rock 10-month old again. Hear crying. Realize no one intends to sleep. Pick up 1-year old and take both babies downstairs. Warm bottle. Feed 1-year old. Eat entire stack of Ritz crackers and tall glass of Diet Vanilla Pepsi for lunch. Notice crockpot is not even warm. Jiggle plug.

3:00 p.m.: Daughter wakes up. Is crabby. Wants to be held. Neighbor boys return.

3:30 p.m.: Three-year old boy’s mom arrives. Ten-month old baby’s mom arrives. Wave bye-bye!

4:15 p.m.: Four-month old baby wakes. Feed her bottle. Watch her spit up on jeans. And shirt. And hand. And arm. And chair. And herself.

5:15 p.m.: Mom of extra 1-year old and 3-year old arrives. Visit for ten minutes.

5:35 p.m.: Babysitter of 4-month old picks her up. Due to crockpot malfunction, take kids to McDonald’s for dinner.

No wonder I’m exhausted. I had nine–no, eleven children–here today. I dream of solitude. And tomorrow, I get it! I’m leaving at about 1:00 p.m. and don’t have to return until 8:00 p.m.

* * *

My son’s school is having a coin drive for Katrina hurricane victims. He gave his seventy-five cents of popcorn money to the cause today. I think I might be doing something right!

My husband helped some friends move today. A young stud was also helping move boxes. My husband tells me that he could hardly contain his mirth when the young man picked up a box marked, “China,” and said to the homeowner, “When did you guys go to China?”

My daughter and her friend sing the “Hokey-Pokey” song, but they have alternative lyrics. One sings, “Oh, do the okey-dokey!” and the other sings, “Oh, do the huppy-puppy!” I can’t stop singing that song . . . much like when I wake in the nighttime and find the Elmo’s World theme song running through my head like an uninvited guest.

The past two nights, I’ve slept all night without waking to cough up a lung. And yet, I’m still so tired.

That doesn’t matter, though. No rest for the weary. This morning, my husband took our 7-year old to play soccer while I took my daughter and her 12-year old brothers to the photographer’s studio at 9:30 a.m. Every year, I make sure the kids get a professional picture taken and every year, my daughter has cried. She is incredibly shy and has a 10 foot circle of personal space which people continually violate.

This year was no different. The photographer took only seven photographs and did manage to capture one fleeting smile. By the end, though, she was curled on my lap (my daughter, not the photographer), crying. (I’ll post a picture tomorrow when I’m not so weary.)

I realized when we pulled into the parking lot that my daughter thought she would be photographed with Piglet–and not the stuffed Piglet that I brought along, but the Piglet from Disney World. I realized this when she said, “I want to see Winnie-the-Pooh.” I said, “There’s no Winnie-the-Pooh,” and then I thought, oh, oh, wait a second. She thinks when I said Piglet, I meant BIG Piglet.

How disappointing that must have been for her.

I spent a couple of hours at the church this afternoon setting up my classroom where I’ll be teaching preschoolers during Sunday School. My daughter was oh-so-helpful during this effort.

She had a birthday party to attend this afternoon, so we were gone until 5:30 p.m. When she went to bed at 7:30 p.m., I went back to the church to finish up. By the time I returned home, it was 10:00 p.m. and I didn’t sit down because I knew I would not get up again. I washed dishes, then peeled potatoes and set up the bread machine so we’ll have fresh bread for lunch. We’ll have roast (in the crockpot) and mashed potatoes for lunch after church tomorrow.

Too often, I run the kids through McDonald’s drive-in after church on Sundays because it’s very difficult to cook when you are not in your kitchen.

I love to sleep. And yet, I stay up too late. I’ll be sorry in the morning.

Tomorrow is the Big Day.

My 7-year old starts second grade.

My husband’s sabbatical comes to an end.

My 12-year old twins begin their second year of school-at-home (not to be confused with homeschool). Only problem is that the curriculum hasn’t arrived yet and won’t arrive until Friday, they tell me. So, we’ll head to the YMCA, I think, and sign up for homeschool P.E. and get our identification cards. This plan works only because my usual daycare baby won’t be coming tomorrow morning. Instead, I’ll have DaycareKid and his cousin, a 4-year old girl I’m watching two days this week as a favor to her mother. Working mothers have such an issue with finding appropriate childcare. It’s the headache that does not respond to ibuprofen.

Anyway.

Summer’s over, no matter what the calendar says. Farewell, my friend! See you in nine months!

Here are my garage sale bargains, purchased today:

Lane recliner, same shade of green as my current recliner. Perfect condition. Overstuffed, rocks and reclines. $10

Memorex television, medium size. Works great. $10

Rubber stamps, large zip-loc bag full. $2

Chunky stamps for walls, including entire alphabet. $2

Videos (Blue’s Clues, Tigger movie), 50 cents each.

Books (Too many to list), 25 or 50 cents each.

Garden tools, bread machine (used twice), basket of real eggs (emu, rhea, peasant), leather gardening gloves, $17 total.

Cordless electric hedgetrimmer, $15.

Raggedy Ann and Raggedy Andy (Playskool), $1.

Brand new box containing Pledge Grab-it sweeper and 10 cloths, $1.

Spending a morning alone in the car, priceless.

(I am totally the most boring blogger on the internet tonight. My most sincere apologies.)

Because I don’t have enough living creatures to keep alive each day, my twin boys brought home three frogs today.

And it’s my job to figure out how to care for them.

Have I mentioned I’m a little squeamish about creatures that have the potential to hop and land in my hair?

Actually, only one of the frogs is ours. (Lucky us.) The other two belong to the other kids who helped catch them in the marsh. I’m not sure why we are now babysitting frogs.

In other news . . . well, there is no other news.

Back when we only had the twins, I was careful to take frequent pictures. If I took a photo of one twin, I immediately took a picture of the other twin. I kept all my scrapbooks up to date.

When my youngest son was born, I zoomed in on him and photographed him extensively, to the neglect of my older boys, I admit. Taking pictures of three kids was tricky. And six-year old boys aren’t thrilled about being still, especially for a photograph.

Since my daughter was born almost three years ago, my picture-taking has dwindled. She is an uncooperative subject, ducking her head like a celebrity avoiding the paparazzi. Last year, when I attempted to photograph all four children (at the same time!) for a Christmas newsletter photo, this is typical of what happened:

And now, I’m behind in all my scrapbooks. Instead of documenting their lives through photographs, I’m running behind, trying to keep up.

By the way, I have to say that I find people who are videotaping experiences instead of experiencing the experiences kind of make me shake my head. At Disney World, for instance, more than once, I saw someone videotaping something instead of just opening their eyes wide and watching it. What’s the point? (That also goes for children’s school performances, though in that case, I can see why you’d want to get it on videotape. Simple reason, really. Blackmail.)

Children who attended Vacation Bible School today: 83
Volunteers at Vacation Bible School: 25
Dirty glasses in the kitchen: 17
Baskets of clean, wrinkled laundry: 2
Loads of dirty laundry: 7?
Glasses of Diet Coke consumed at anniversary dinner: 4
Years married to my husband: 18
Cats owned since wedding on July 18, 1987: 6
Cars owned during marriage: 6
Homes lived in since wedding: 8
States lived in since wedding: 4
Vacation Bible Schools I’ve been in charge of: 7
Jobs we’ve had during marriage: 13
Vacations involving airline travel and no kids: 1
Trips that included kids, hotels and traveling: 4
Hospital stays: Husband–twice (throat cancer);
TwinBoyA–once, corrective surgery when he was 3
Adoptions: 2
Births: 2
My shoe size on my wedding day: 8
Current shoe size: 9.5
Hours until I have to be back at church for Day Two, Vacation Bible School: 8.5

One of my favorite sights in Texas was the disco ball hanging from a tree in the rural yard at my sister-in-law’s house. A mirrored disco ball!

One of the funniest things I heard came on the day I was trying to convince my 12-year old twins to ride “Pirates of the Caribbean.” This was after I coerced them into going on “Tower of Terror” and “Rock’n Roller Coaster.” I said, “It’s not even scary!” and TwinBoyB leaned closer to me and said in a serious voice, “Mom. We are scared of butterflies.”

One of the coolest things I saw in Texas was a do-it-yourself carwash, which
featured a stall for washing your dog. Brilliant idea.

Tonight, I was at the church using an overhead projector to make an elephant. I took the outline outside and spraypainted it behind the church, in the grass. I noted that the air was already chilly since the sun had set. What a difference a week makes–last Saturday, I was sweating in the Florida humidity and heat. I could never get used to the idea that the darkness of night doesn’t bring cool air.

One shuttle bus, two flights, and a car ride later, I’m home.

Glory be to God in the highest.