Whatcha been up to? Well, funny you should ask.

It's been busy around here. What's new, right?

Well, for starters, Spencer had a project due the week before Thanksgiving. It was the student's choice for a subject of Thanksgiving, Indians^★, or Pilgrims. But, it had to include a visual project, a written report, a cover page and an oral report. Parental help was encouraged. Because the teachers hate parents.

Also? I'm pretty sure I didn't do a project with so many components until I was in college.

But, we got it done. We're diorama-making fools around this house.

And, although I didn't get a picture of it (because I was exhausted), Spence's cover page was a Comanche Indian with yarn braids down each side of his head, tied with leather straps and a feather. And the part in his hair was even colored with white "clay." Oh, yeah. We brought it.

But, I think Shawn and I were both most proud of how many times our shy boy practiced his oral presentation until a) he knew it by heart; b) he could speak up; and c) he could look up and make eye-contact occasionally while speaking. Quite an improvement for the boy who hid his face two-inches behind his paper for the entire oral report he presented last year in first grade.

I made a Thanksgiving treat for the kids' classmates. I mean. We all knew I would, didn't we?

That's just a mini Reese's peanut butter cup upside down on a
fudge-striped cookie, stuck down and decorated with frosting.

There was Grandparents' Day at the kids' school. My mom and step-dad drove up. And, Shawn's mom had to jump through hoops to get time away from work. But, she did. So, the kids had two of their three sets of grandparents there. They got to show them around the school, and take them to a reception. And, there was a special chapel service. It was all very sweet and special to the kids.

*We found Lulu's lost splint. In the Barbie basket. Duh. Where else would it be? So now we have a spare (that the darling Occupational Therapist made us for no charge)! This is a good thing. The original splint has been lost again on no less than four other occasions for varying amounts of time on each occurrence.

Speaking of that broken finger and splint: we had a check-up last week on that little ol' bone. It's healing well, the doctor said. But, there is still a missing bit in the center of the bone that needs time to knit itself back together. One more week in the splint. She's such a responsible little trooper about it, though. She's the first one to say, "I don't have my splint on!"

There was Thanksgiving. But, in order to keep this post under a thousand words, that post will have to wait until tomorrow.

And, then there was church yesterday.

Here's what's funny. I can drive myself insane worrying about where we should go to church. We've tried going to a mega-church. But, all of our friends that are members there are a part of a "small group/Bible study" that is "closed." So, we never could figure out how to feel "plugged in" - not that the church doesn't try. They really encourage you to come to a once-a-month "Get Plugged In" meet and greet where they'll match you up with like-minded people so you can start your own "small group." Shawn and I just couldn't do it. It felt like a weird speed-dating session to make church friends. And, Lulu straight-up didn't like Sunday School there. I don't think they did anything wrong. I think it was just huge - four classes for Lulu's grade alone. We never knew who her teacher would be or who would be in her class. She would see some friends she knew... but then they would be assigned to a different room. And she told us she didn't know the songs they sang. But, when Little Miss Congeniality with the most confidence in our family is uncomfortable somewhere... it might not be the right fit for our family. Spence liked it. But, Spence liked it because he had a friend from school who was in his Sunday School class - a security blanket.

And, then my great friend Springer sent me a book by Anne Lamott, Traveling Mercies. It was interesting. Clearly Springer thinks I'm a whole lot deeper than the usually fluff I read (Note to self: Send Springer a copy of The Hunger Games). But, it was worth the read for even just this one concept I took away from it. I'm sure I will paraphrase this badly, but Lamott said she was told, when praying to God for the answer to a problem, don't look for the big billboard announcing the final answer. Look at the small spotlight He's shining for you to take to the next step. Then, once there, look for the next spotlight. Just keep stepping from spotlight to spotlight until, the next thing you know, you've arrived at the solution.

So. I took a step into the spotlight yesterday.

We have other friends. (I know. Shocker.) They go to the lost-my-child-church (which we didn't know at the time of the "Lost Child" incident). They were talking about their awesome Adult Sunday school (that's open to new-comers)! They helped us figure out where it was, what time it started and were excited that we were there. And, y'all? The Director of Young Adult Ministry that teaches the class? Amazing. A-maz-ing.

We dropped Lulu off at the playroom - where there is an extensive new check-in procedure complete with sticker identification for each child. Holla! (All of our friends really do say to us, though, "Ummm. So. We hear we have you to thank for this." They don't seem so thankful, though... ;) After Sunday School, we went to ask Lulu if she wanted to leave the playroom to come sing songs with us in Big Church. She did not. She wanted to stay and keep working on crafts.

Spencer has one classmate who goes to church there that he knew of before we arrived. He wasn't there yesterday. But, lo and behold, his very best playmates from down the street go to church there! And, they did go to church yesterday, much to Spence's delight. Then, during the Children's Service portion of Big Church, Spence realized that one of his buddies from flag football goes to church there, too.

The church service was just non-liturgical enough to remind Shawn of the Bible Church in which he grew up, but just traditional enough to feel "like church" to him, too. Shawn does not like "rock bands" in church. I don't mind them. This church has a guitarist with singers. Shawn is okay with that. We both agree that the service really is a perfect mix for us.

As we drove home yesterday, Spence said, "I want this to be our church."

You know what, son? I think I do, too.

^★It seems that we can say Indian again instead of Native American. Who knew?

Lose My Kid and I Just Might Join Your Church

Holy cow! Has it been a week since I've posted? How can that be? Surely I must have been really busy organizing the house. No, not that. Umm. Catching up on that "to do" list? Nope. Watching countless hours of TV and lying around eating bon bons? Not even that! How about posting those vacation pics. Well, now you're just being silly.

I guess we've been doing a lot of "Summer Time-ing" around here. Soccer camp-ing, swimming pool-ing, eating out-ing, sleeping late-ing. It's been great. We've been worthless and it's been wonderful. It's getting a little boring, though...

So, anyway. Here's something exciting for your reading pleasure:

We've been way laid back in almost every "commitment" there is to be made since moving to the New City. In the past, Shawn and I have had a bit of a tendency to "leap before we look" when it comes to major decisions - cars, homes, churches, furniture... We see something bright and shiny and we enable each other to BUY IT! Sometimes it's worked out. Sometimes it hasn't.

But, we're older and wiser now (stop laughing). And, we know it's a lot easier to enter a commitment than to get out of one. That's why we're in a year-long lease while we figure out which neighborhood we want to choose "for keeps." That's why I'm driving a car with a glovebox that won't close (Ok. That one's all me. Shawn hates my car.) And, that's why we haven't chosen a church yet.

And, this summer we have been out of town every. single. Sunday except for two when I was laid up with my bum wheel. But, this Sunday we were here and we decided to go back and try a church we had visited and really liked back in the Spring.

The service was great. I got stopped by some friends of some friends while Shawn and Spence (who had no interest in joining the other kids during "Children's Church" and had stayed with us in "Big Church") went to get Elizabeth. Shawn and Spence returned. We all finished visiting and I said, "Where's Lulu?"

Shawn said, "We didn't know where you had dropped her off." (I had walked her out with the other kids during the portion of the service where the kids leave for Children's Church.)

Oh. Okay. Let's go get her.

We neared the Children's Area check-in desk and Shawn said, "This is where I came. They said they don't have her."

Indeed. I asked the women at the counter and they said they didn't have an Elizabeth. "She must be with the big kids upstairs."

Upstairs we went. Crickets. The lights were even turned off.

Back to the check-in desk. "She must be upstairs with the big kids." Willing myself not to flip out on these kind people who I knew had not sold my child into human trafficking, Shawn and I explained that we had gone up there, and maybe we just didn't know where to look...

A kind woman, who I believe is the Children's Director, greeted us and said she'd take us. Even she was surprised to see the upstairs was a ghost town. Back downstairs we headed, as she repeated, "We'll find them. They're here somewhere."

She asked someone where the big kids were. In the library. The library! We went to the library. We found the "big kid" teachers! And, they had. no. kids. with. them.

Y'all? By this time the building was empty. All of the parishioners had gone by now. The only people left were staff. And the security guard. And he was summoned. And no one had my child.

I started to cry. I couldn't help it. I couldn't start running the halls screaming her name because I didn't know where the halls were. 

We all started heading back to the Children's Area check-in desk and one of the workers was walking toward us. With Elizabeth. Saying, "We thought her name was Avery!" Now people? My child has a lot of nicknames. "Avery" is not one of them. I couldn't tell if maybe the workers even thought she was another little girl actually named Avery. Regardless, when we asked them to bring us Elizabeth, they weren't going to bring us Avery. That would be dumb!

Shawn grabbed Lulu. I tried really hard to get it together; tell everyone it was alright as they profusely apologized. And we left.

And today? I got the nicest email from one of the Pastors at the church. And, I cannot imagine the investigating he had to do to figure out that Shawn's and my name and email on the Sign-in Page from the church service were the hysterical parents of Elizabeth/Avery. But, kudos to him for it. Because his final words of "Again my deepest apologies for the fear and understandable concern you all experienced at a place that should be a very safe and building place," make me think that this just might be a church I would like to visit again (along with his assurances that he has never seen anything like that happen in his 21 years at this church).

So, the moral? Lose my kid and I just might join your church.

It's so complicated in my head.

God Doesn't Like Vacations

And, here's how I know: If He did, life wouldn't be so chaotic upon return. It's like you have to pay for vacation by returning to a home that has completely fallen apart in your absence.

Case in point: the last load of laundry in the dryer that has been "fluffed" about 17 times since it went in last Wednesday.

To be fair, this could have less to do with God's feelings on vacations and more to do with "getting plugged in" to our new town. (I'm suspicious that this might be the case, since I tried to make a dinner date with some of our new friends and the first available date we could find was a Thursday in three weeks.)

Whatever the reason, this is what last week looked like:

Monday and Tuesday were deceptively calm. I took lunch to Spencer for making a 100 on his spelling test while we were gone. We got Lulu's hair cut in the "bob" she has been requesting. (Shawn has been requesting it, too, to be honest. I don't think he could bare to brush one more tangle out of his precious baby girl's head. :) Shawn had business dinners so I had to get the kids to bed by myself. (I really think he just does that so I'll appreciate him more... Ass.)

Wednesday began that elusive laundry. And, then...

Thursday my mom came to town. The kids had Fine Arts Night at their school. We saw their art displayed; Spence's class sang. (Well done. So proud. Got to bed late.)

Friday I tootled on down the highway a couple of hours for a friend's birthday lunch. I got home; took Lulu for a "girls' date" (that means we went to The Discovery Center and walked around the park) while I waited to pick Spence up from a birthday party. We took the kids for pizza for Family Date Night. (Got to bed late.)

The next day (Saturday) we awoke to hit the road back down the highway for a wedding. Came home the same day. (Got to bed late.)

We woke for church on Sunday, came home for some Sunday naps (hallelujah!), worked on Spencer's Flat Stanley project, and raced out the door - again - to get to my in-laws' church for a gospel quartet concert to which they had invited us (leaving the Flat Stanley supplies exploded around the floor and living room).

Last night, as we put the kids to bed (late again), stepping over piles of their toys, shoes, and clothes that hadn't made it to the laundry hamper, Shawn looked around and said, "Well, at least the upstair and the downstairs match."

Elizabeth was showing signs of wear this morning. But, I just kicked everyone out the door to work and school. Now I'm looking around at this house/mess/dump sight and wondering what it takes to get declared a Disaster Zone - I'm not so much interested in the federal funding as I am in the volunteer labor and National Guard forces.

Oh well, I guess I better get started. I need to go fluff the laundry in the dryer one more time.

If Someone Comes Across My Sanity, Please Don't Wait to Return It

I ran around the store the other day with my heart in my throat trying to figure out where I had set my purse. I had left it in the car. Things are not looking well for my mental health. (No one really expected that I could handle the holidays and moving and still keep my %&!* together, did they?!)

                                                                                   

And. Um. Wow. Guess what I forgot to tell you? I was a Parent of the Week over on my friend Jamie's parenting blog, Avant Garde Parenting - BACK IN NOVEMBER. Don't worry - there are no "good-parent requirements" to be given this honor, so you don't have to question her judgement. It's probably something along the lines of a teacher encouraging the "bad kid" to try to reinforce positive behavior. (I'm right, aren't I, Jamie? ;)

Jamie really is an honest-to-goodness, card-carrying parenting expert (i.e., she has a PhD - I know, right?!). And, yet, she's still down-to-earth, honest, friendly and funny. Parents of the world - read this blog! Her dissertation was on how moms raised their wee ones in order to have teenagers that didn't need to be euthanized could "1. Communicate effectively with them and 2. Display independence in the relationship." (Again. I know, right?! I wonder if she'll let me have her cell phone number?)

In all seriousness, AGP has made me a better parent and given me tools I didn't even know I was missing in my parenting arsenal. I can rarely make a comment on her blog, though, because I'm seldom thinking, "Let me tell you about a time I successfully employed that technique." I'm usually thinking, "Holy crap! That's a great idea!" And, it would just get old if I commented that time after time after time after time.

Much love to you, Jamie!

                                                                                   

In moving news:

Our friends keep trying to love us with food. I have a cookie cake and half a sheet cake in my kitchen as I type.

Every. single. outing is becoming emotionally exhausting for Shawn and me. You never really know how many amazing friends you have until they are given a deadline to tell you. We come home and collapse, not just from the physical exhaustion of too many events and not enough sleep, but from the emotional exhaustion of being smothered with love. This weekend alone:

• Some of our friends gave us a going-away party. This was from where the cake came. It was actually our wedding cake. It's Shawn's favorite cake in the world (white cake with buttercream icing and imported, seedless raspberry jam between the layers). I get him one every year on his birthday. But, when one of the hostesses called to order the cake, she was told that the cake lady only made wedding cakes. Our friend managed to blurt out our names; to which she was told, "Oh. I make it special for them. I will make you one if it's for them." I. had. no. idea. This was one of about 362 things that almost made me cry that night.
• On Saturday we attended a Christmas Party. We got to hang out with some amazing friends that we haven't had nearly enough time to get to know. There may have come a point in the evening where we were hugging, declaring, "I love you, man!"
• Our Middle School/High School Sunday School class had a celebration for us (with cookie cake).
• And, the rector at our church called the four of us to the front yesterday during the service and gave us a blessing. That one almost did me in. I almost lied down on the floor of the church and told someone to come get me when the new house was unpacked.

Such amazing people. We are surrounded by such amazing people. And, the movers come on Friday.

Now. I'm off to push these feelings down with get some cake cookie cake cookie both.

One for the Grandparents

Ok. Seriously, people. If you are not related to our family, I give you permission to look away. I mean, my kid is cute and all, but even I wouldn't ask you to endure iPhone video of her Children's Church Choir performance.

Now. For those of you who know The Lulu, please be prepared for greatness. This was a church choir performance a few weeks ago. I'm not sure why the footage gets so bright at random times during the song. (Those must be the parts that God likes. Or the mother that scooted right in front of me and wouldn't sit still. po-tay-to. po-tah-to.) And, I'm not sure why EA seems to be the only one doing "motions."

But, seriously. Look at this girl. Is there any doubt she would be doing "motions?"

Pentecost

Ok.  There has not been one moment to take a breath since Shawn's birthday.  The end of the school year is a blur of activity!  Who knew?!  Well, I guess every grade school parent who's ever gone before me - I, clearly, just wasn't listening very closely.

Anyhoo...  Sunday was Pentecost.  And, I know it's a little bit sad that a lot (okay, most) of the things I learn in church, I learn when the pastor is teaching the kids.  But, hey.  At least I'm learning something, right?  And what I learned on Sunday was that Pentecost is the third most important holiday in the Christian church after (Oh, come on.  You know this...) Christmas and Easter.  It's the seventh Sunday after Easter and commemorates the descent of the Holy Spirit on Jesus' disciples.  When it happened, they were able to speak in all the different languages of the people assembled with them in Jerusalem.  (Acts 2:1-47)  And, it also gave them the ability to go out to all the world and spread the story of Christ.  Therefore, it is commonly considered the "birth day" of the Church.

So there.  Now you know, too.

But, I'd be lying if I didn't say that one of the things I like about Pentecost is that everyone wears red (and God would know if I was lying).  But, my God is a pretty cool guy, so I can't figure that He minds too much.  Red symbolizes joy and the fire of the Holy Spirit.  And, that brings me to this: The sweet picture of me and the kids with my step-dad, Bill (aka "Pop").

Happy Pentecost!

Easter Holiday

We had Friday and Monday off from school for the Easter holiday.  We've actually had a great time together - I'm not even counting down the hours until school starts tomorrow.  ;)  The kids have finally reached the ages where they're just fun.  They require so much less maintenance.  Being able to load up in the car without a U-Haul trailer full of accessories makes experiences so much more pleasurable.

Friday they helped me deliver some things to the church, then we had a lunch date with Daddy.  Friday night they had a "slumber party" at Nanny and Pop's while Shawn and I were finally able to go out with some friends we've been trying to get to dinner with for more than a year.

The kids were returned early Saturday so we could go to an Easter egg hunt followed by lunch with friends.  They dyed eggs with Miss 'Cilla Saturday night while Shawn and I took in Clash of the Titans at the movie theater.  (I thought it was good.  Shawn thought it was "cheesy to quite cheesy - but good."  You'll have to interpret that review on your own - I'm not even sure if it's positive or negative...)

Sunday we awoke to find the eggs the Easter bunny had hidden around our house, headed off to church and more Easter egg hunting, and completed the festivities with brunch.

You didn't think you'd get out of this post without having to see some Easter pictures, now did you?

This is a man on a mission and girl with some serious booty.

And, this was waiting for Daddy to come pick us up in the car after brunch.

I think the title of this is "All in.  All done."

Today we went to Toys R Us so the kids could spend some gift card and piggy bank money.  I didn't have an ounce of dread in my heart as we headed out on our adventure.  This has never been the case with shopping expeditions.  We all must be getting more mature (and mellow).  We're gonna wrap up the day with a "mini" family date night before we start back to school tomorrow (that just means an early dinner out and a short movie on the DVD player).

So, those are the highlights.  I tried not to bore you with details about trips to the gym and grocery store, time spent picking up the house, cooking meals, taking naps, attending lessons...  All in all I would say this has been a long weekend filled with some wonderfully ordinary days.

One more Easter pic:

This one cracks me up.

Spencer - not a fan of having pictures taken (like father, like son).

Elizabeth - scared to death the wind will blow her hat off.

Weekend Update

We had a blessedly slow weekend around here - nearly unheard of around these parts.  We went to see the play Tuna Does Vegas on Friday.  It was good, but I was a little tired.  I think the fact I almost fell asleep during the second act was a testament to my exhaustion, not the comic genius of Jaston Williams, Joe Sears, and Ed Howard.

We had absolutely nothing, I repeat nothing, to do on Saturday except Spence's basketball game (where we actually saw some aggression out of our timid player!  Can I get an "hallelujah"?!).  We topped off the day with a "Family Date Night".  This was complete with dinner at Jason's Deli (They have free ice cream, you know.  This is all that is required to get a high rating in the Johnson Children's Zagat Guide), and movie night camped out on the floor of the living room - with popcorn!  Remember when life was so simple and it was so easy to be wowed?  We should probably all be that easy to please.  It would make everything about life a little more magnificent, I would think.

On Sunday we were off to church.  The drive there involved Elizabeth singing "The Wheels on the Bus" at the top of her lungs while Spencer tried to see how high he could count before we made it to church.  I can only imagine that is exactly what it sounds like inside your head once you've gone mad.  I'm going to make the voices inside my head take their turns when they speak because now I know what madness sounds like.  And it's disturbing.

Did I ever tell you that Shawn and I co-teach Middle School Sunday School (in what I can only believe was a monumental lapse of judgement on someone's part.  Seriously?  You're going to let the two of us influence the youth of our parish?  Well, ok.  Your call.  I'm guessing I've never spoken aloud to these people...).  But, we (and by we, I mean the other teacher, Dawn - the kids mainly ate donuts and tried not to fall asleep on the couches; and we three other teachers just nodded a lot) had a really interesting lesson about the letters Paul wrote while he was imprisoned in the Mamertine Prison just before his execution.

Sunday School was followed by an "Instructed Eucharist".  I've never been to one of these, but our rector pretty much commentated the way through the service and told us why we were doing all the things we just do by rote.  It was very, very interesting (even though it made the service last a long time - and that makes Shawn grumpy.  Not exactly the way you're supposed to leave a church service, I don't think... ;)

We went to lunch, we napped, we worked-out; we picked up the toy-disasters around the house, picked Play-Doh out of various crevices, practiced violin, practiced recital dances (for June!), got school bags ready, tracked down tennis shoes, ate dinner, cleaned the kitchen, took baths (took a deep breath!) and another weekend was over.

Happy Monday.

"Pretty Nice Little [Weekend]"

I've made a new blogging decision.  I'm not going to blog on the weekends.  The weekends are when life takes off like a bullet around here.  It's when we make memories together - I don't want to miss any of it by hiding out at the computer.

But, here are some highlights from the weekend that was:

Spencer had group violin practice on Saturday morning.  The instructors followed the lesson with a cello performance, just for the kids' enrichment.  I sat there listening to the principal cellist for the symphony orchestra with piano accompaniment, thinking, "Most people have to pay money to hear a performance like this, and here I sit in a classroom at the university listening to one for free, just because I'm fortunate enough that my son takes lessons from amazingly talented people who know amazingly talented people."  Crazy.

Next, Spencer had an afternoon basketball game.  We actually had to have a conversation with our son that went something like, "Stop being polite.  We're really proud of you that you have such good manners.  But, you do not have to let the other team take their turn at making a shot.  You can try to stop them.  You don't have to share the ball, either.  You can try to take it.  Every.  Time.  We'll let you know if you ever get too rude, but for now, get aggressive, son!"

As if that weren't a full enough Saturday, we donned our finery and headed out to the Louise Hopkins Underwood Center for the Arts Gala fundraiser.  Shawn has this neat little party trick (that paid his bills through college).  He knows how to auctioneer.  So, whenever one of our friends chairs a charity event, guess who gets the call for the live auction?  It's starting to get funny, though, the more people he meets as "Shawn Johnson, business man".  They have a slight look of confusion when he steps up on stage.  And, then their reactions are priceless as he starts calling with, "What'll you bid for it?  A thousand where?"  But, honestly, he's very good at it and has just the right je ne sais quoi that allows him to know just who to pick on for a little bit more bidding and when to let it go.  He's gotten unbelievable results for some very worthy charities in town.  It's definitely a gift and he definitely uses it for good.  And, I'm definitely proud.

My brilliantly funny and talented friend, Christy was the MC for the night, too (just a little break from helping her husband run for 137th District Court judge, 'cause I'm sure she had some time on her hands...  And, btw, if you live here, her husband is John "Trey" McClendon.  Early voting has started.  So get out and vote for him!).  It was such a well-put together, well-thought out evening.  Kudos to Britt, Susan and everyone who worked so hard for such a worthy cause.

A couple funny side notes from the night:  You know that lie that we all, as brides, have told our nearest and dearest friends and family?  You know the one.  "I know this dress costs [fill in the blank with any amount that you, as a twenty-something, couldn't afford], but you'll definitely be able to wear it again!"  LIE.  Raise your hand if you EVER wore a bridesmaid's dress after the wedding.  Well, 11 1/2 years after the fact, I wore the skirt that I wore at my sister's wedding.  I "Sharon Stone'd" it up a bit with a button-up shirt instead of the corset top she put us in in '98.  But, nevertheless, it was worn again.

Two things about this picture:

It was taken at 6:21 - clearly.

Why is my hand in that most unnatural claw position?

The other side note is the nice thing my friend Kendra said.  It went something like this, "I read your blog.  You are one funny b*tch.  You're like the Chelsea Lately of the block."  Only to me would this be the best compliment EVER.  But, it is.  Thanks, Kendra.  You can call me a b*tch any time you please.  You made my night.

We awoke to head to church on Sunday, where Elizabeth got a big gulp of communion wine and declared, "That's good milk." (Ahhh.  That's my girl.)  We ate our weight in thin crust Domino's pizza for dinner (so much for making my family nutritious - oh well, so you fall off the wagon every now and then), went to bed...

And, another week has begun.  Happy Monday to you.

Happy Epiphany

Epiphany is the day that the wisemen finally made their way from their far off lands in the east, following the star, to find the baby Jesus.  Happy Epiphany!  It's today and our church had an Epiphany pageant.

Elizabeth was an angel.  And, such a sassy angel you have never seen.  I'm pretty sure I saw her giving a wiseman the "what for".  May she have this much confidence all her life long.

And, Spencer (who you might remember is NOT our performer) froze as we walked into the fellowship hall only to announce, "I don't want to be in the play!"  Our rector's wife, Renee, in all her infinite kindness and compassion told him, "You know what, Spence?  That's ok, you can be my helper!"  And, help he did.  He was in charge of the bell ringing anytime Renee needed to get everyone's attention, he handed out programs and generally followed Renee around like a shadow "just in case she needed anything."

I was reminded of the Danish proverb, "Who takes the child by the hand takes the mother by the heart."  Because watching how important Spencer felt, and how included he felt, melted my heart and made me so grateful for angels that walk among us - like Renee.  God bless her and her true fruit of the Spirit (those would be: love, joy, peace, patience, kindness, goodness, faithfulness, gentleness and self-control, if you don't want to have to Google it like I did...).

And, one last thing.  We ran short on kids (well, no kidding, the Johnsons brought a production assistant instead of an actor...), so some of the dads had to step in as shepherds.

I'm sorry.  Did I say shepherds or Al Qaeda?