A shark and a monkey walk into a bar...

One of these days I really want to do a family costume theme. But that would require me to get my act together before the morning of Halloween.

For now, we'll settle for digging trough the box of dress up clothes until we find a shark costume that fits.

If you give a man a fish...

If he's going to teach her how to fish properly, it's going to start with proper fly-tying techniques.

Great grace

He did it again. After I specifically told him not to squeal in the car, he did it again. It was an act of direct defiance, and he knew he was in the wrong almost as soon as he opened his mouth.

The remorse came instantly, but the damage was done.

"Caleb," I said, trying to get through to him between sobs, "what has to happen now?" I had told him, only moments prior, what would happen if he continued to let out those earth-shattering squeals in the car. And now he was going to have to repeat it.

"I have to be punished," he replied. The tears streamed down his face. "But I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm so, so sorry, Mommy."

And he truly was. If Caleb is one thing, he's sincere. And when he's sorry, he's really sorry. The flip side of that is that when he's not sorry, well, he's just not sorry. But when he is sorry, it's the sincere sort of heartfelt sorrow that lets me know he really does regret his misdeed, that he really wishes he could go back and do the right thing.

I told him I was glad he was sorry. And I told him I forgave him. Because in this family, when someone is truly sorry, we forgive them.

But there are still consequences for our actions. And disobedience has to be punished.

This was Caleb's fate, and he and I both knew the punishment was coming when we got home.

I didn't want to have to punish him. I had hoped he would heed my warnings and stop when I asked. But self-control doesn't come easily to this one. And letting my kids get away with things is just bad parenting. It may be easier, at times, to ignore their wrongs, but it's not good for them in the long run. The loving thing to do is to discipline their disobedience. It's a tough job, but someone's got to do it.

But God...

Two words flashed through my mind as I reminded myself of all the reasons why I would have to follow through with my promise to punish his disobedience.

But God what?

"Mommy?" Caleb's lip quivered as he tried to get my attention. "I'm not going to squeal in the car anymore."

"But God demonstrates his own love for us in this: While we were still sinners, Christ died for us." (Romans 5:8)

Oh, I get it, Lord. This is going to be one of those moments. One of those aha moments where I get to teach my kids something, but really the lesson is for me. Okay, God. Go ahead. I'm going to open my mouth now, and I'm looking forward to what you have to say through me.

"Caleb, can you stop crying and listen to Mommy for a second?" I waited until I had his attention, and consequently, the attention of all the kids who regularly watch to see how consistent my parenting is.

"Caleb, I can tell you're truly sorry for disobeying. And I forgive you. And Caleb, I'm not going to punish you when we get home. Instead of punishment, you're going to get mercy."

I gave it a second to sink in.

"Caleb, what has to happen when we disobey?"

"We have to get punished," he answered, a little hesitantly this time.

"That's right," I told him. "Mercy means we don't get the punishment we deserve. So I'm going to show you mercy, and I'm not going to punish you for disobeying."

"What are you going to do instead?" he asked. He's wise beyond his years, I realized.

He understood, in that moment, that if his disobedience wasn't going to result in punishment, it was going to result in something else. And he wanted to know what that something was.

"But where sin increased, grace increased all the more..." (Romans 5:20)

So I explained that when God shows us mercy, it means we don't get the punishment we deserve for our sins. I reminded him that we all sin, and we all deserve death, and we deserve to be separated from God because of our sin.

But God...

But God loves us, and when Jesus died on the cross, he took the punishment we deserve. So God doesn't punish us, I explained. He shows us mercy.

And even more, I explained to my now-captive audience, God shows us grace, His free and undeserved favor. He rescues us. He promises us eternal life with Him. He makes us part of his forever family, and he calls us His children. He made us, and He loves us, and that's why He died to save us. And when we tell God we're sorry for our sins, He forgives us, and He shows us His mercy, and He shows us His grace.

"I'm glad for that, Mommy," Caleb piped up.

"Mommy," Abby interjected, "that's great grace!"

It is, I agreed.

For the record, we made it home with no further squealing. And I think Caleb and I learned a good lesson today.

We sin a lot, but we have a really great God.

And he gives us a very great grace, indeed.

No assistance required

"Jacob," I called from the next room, "do you need help washing your hands?"

"Nope," came his confident reply. "I can do it by myself, Mommy."

Destined for greatness

If I had half as much focus and determination to complete mundane tasks as Jacob does, I could achieve great things on an almost daily basis. Unfortunately, I think the kind of single-mindedness needed to build incredibly tall block towers comes with being a three-year-old boy. I am far too easily distracted.

Now the anger and impatience of having a younger child destroy what you've worked for so long on?

That I can identify with.

Fifth position

It is very important to Abby that her brothers learn all the steps to her dance before the day of the recital.

Rehearsals are held sporadically throughout the day. Attendance is only somewhat mandatory.

Before the storm

Some days are so, so hard. And then some days they all settle in to their activities, and homeschooling seems to happen with ease.

It pays to be flexible around here. These moments of calm are beautiful, but they are few and far between.

School of Awesome

I'm considering a name change for the Fisher Preparatory Academy for Excellence in Learning.

High-volume worship

With the move up to big church, his Big Kid status is officially confirmed. So it was time to buy him a real Bible, just like his big sister's (but not quite so pink).

He loves his new Bible.

But not as much as he loves his new hat.

But mostly, he loves standing up in the chairs and singing his favorite worship songs at the top of his lungs. And I'm not about to ask him to quiet down. This kid does everything with gusto. Worship included.

And there's no place I'd rather be on Sunday morning than standing next to him while he sings his heart out.

Not my best idea

Okay, okay. I get it.

Commemorating our family trip to the zoo with a picture posed in a tree was not one of my best ideas.

But really, I think this captures our family personality quite well. I regret nothing.

Same old tricks

The game is called "Shoes," and the rules haven't changed since 2011.

The objective is still the same, as far as I can tell: get into a pair of shoes (definitely not your own) as quickly as possibly, laugh as loudly as possible, try to walk as far as possible, and fall over as dramatically as possible.

We have more players now, and that means plenty more shoes to choose from.

Mommy and Daddy's boots are still the favorite pick, by far.

Disagreeable

I recall Abby and her best bud being much more amenable to the idea of the shared swing back in the day.

Jacob and Levi were none to pleased with my solution to their slumping in the bucket swing.

Storytime

More often than not, it's the company we keep that makes storytime so entertaining around here.

My boys are goofballs. I wouldn't trade it for the world.

A little fancy flair

With the road all cleared off, thanks to her littlest brother, Abby finally has room to let her creative juices flow.

It doesn't matter how many boys trample up and down this street. She will always find a way to fit in something fancy.

What else does he have to do?

At this rate, it will likely take Levi the rest of the year to rake all the leaves off the road.

That's not going to stop him from trying.

Hard worker

I insisted it was time to get in the car.

Caleb insisted he wasn't done "working."

"Can I bring my laptop with me so I can finish working on this stuff while we drive around?" he asked.

"What laptop?" I inquired. "And what exactly are you working on?"

"My shark laptop," he replied. "I need to finish up this shark stuff."

Sometimes I wonder why I even bother to ask.

Girl stuff

For all her tomboyish tendencies, Abby really does relish the opportunity to do girly stuff now and then.

And it doesn't get much girlier than a baby shower.

So at Nana's urging, I invited the six-year-old along to help us out with Aunt Sarah's baby shower. I may as well have offered her a round trip ride to the moon. She was thrilled to help. She picked out a girly dress, we touched up that girly stripe of pink hair she's sporting, and she set out candy and hors d'oeuvres with meticulous care.

Abby was on her best behavior for the party. She put herself officially in charge of bringing gifts to the mommy-to-be and delighted in the attention she received for the little bag she made for her favorite Aunt.

And then, just so I didn't forget that she's really still my goofy little Abby, she spent the entire ride home balancing leftover pita chips on her nose. 

I love this kid.

Strong as an ox

He walked in wearing that sheepish Caleb face I know all too well, hands behind his back, hiding the evidence.

He was ready to confess, and apologize, if only he could articulate what he had done wrong.

I tried to help.

"What happened, bud?"

He held out the remains of Daddy's tape measure for me to see.

"This just came apart while I was measuring," he explained, slightly confused himself at just how that had happened.

"Well, you're really strong, Caleb," I reassured him, trying not to get upset about the one millionth thing he has broken in this house. "You just need to be more careful. What were you measuring?"

"Worms."

I can understand how you break a tape measure trying to figure out how long our back fence is, or how big around that big tulip poplar is. But worms? There truly is nothing this kid can't break.

He's only four, and growing stronger by the day.

It will be a miracle if our house is still standing when he reaches his teens.

A surplus of words

Her spelling workbook was open to the dictionary in the back, and she appeared to be deeply engrossed with its contents.

"What are you doing, Abby?" I asked, almost afraid to interrupt.

"I ran out of words," she replied, never lifting her eyes from the page. "But it's okay. I found a lot more back here."