Cicada Tennis

I hope too many of you haven't alerted the police. I wasn't lost, I was just busy... HOUSEHUNTING and whatnot.

Since my last post, my mother has come and gone and Ezra has turned into a young adult. He now says words like "Graham Cracker" and disciplines himself all on his own. When he knows he's doing something I don't approve of, he says "Nooooo" really loud and runs over to his timeout chair and sits there quietly for a minute or so before sheepishly returning to what he was doing before his naughty-ness. I'm thinking about teaching him how to balance the checkbook next week.

The time with MoMar was great and she helped me so much while Chris was away. She is one organized house-hunting machine.

We put another offer on yet ANOTHER house, but the real estate office was paging the wrong number for us to get ahold of the lady selling the house, and they accepted another offer an hour before she finally got our messages. This house-buying sure is an emotional rollercoaster. And not one of those cool fun rollercoasters, either. It's like an old rickety wooden rollercoaster with chunks missing out of the track ahead and a saftey harness that won't stay latched. Thrilling? yes. Fun? no.



We finally got Ezra a little pool he can splash around in to keep cool, and he likes it alot. The June Bugs do too. They buzz around and land in the water and swim around until they die in there. Then we fish them out with the shovel. When I was little, my brothers and I played a game called "Cicada Tennis". Cicadas are those bugs that make the HORRIBLE noise in the trees in the Summertime. We would take the garden hose and spray the trees and when the cicadas would fly out, we'd be waiting for them... With our tennis rackets. MWah ha ha ha!! (evil laughter).

I got a REALLY cool rug for under our dining room table from Chris for my birthday, and MoMar got me books and birthday money. Woo hoo! It was a good birthday.



I'm off to Barnes & Noble... Ezra is going stir-crazy.