The M&M Story

Chocolate Chip Cookies. Redefined. Remade.  Feel free to Recreate. (And she wonders why her thighs just won't shrink...) Ingredients 2 sticks unsalted butter (to room temp) 2 cups bread flour (add ¼ more if you like cak-i-er cookies) 1 teaspoon kosher salt 1 teaspoon baking soda 1/4 cup sugar (prefer raw--just because) 1 ¼ cups brown sugar 1 egg 1 egg yolk 2 tablespoons milk (preferably raw whole or cream) 1 ½ teaspoons + a splash of vanilla extract or vanilla liquor or amaretto (so good!) or combination thereof. 1 tsp espresso powder 2 cups (or more) semisweet chocolate chips or combination of white and chocolate (preference) Hardware: Parchment paper (preference) Baking sheets Mixer Directions: Preheat oven to 375 degrees F. (I wish I was good at preheating....) Soften butter to room temperature--this is important!  I mean, you *can* melt, but soften is better. I’m sure I can come up with a thesis and support, but trust me, it’s for a smooth cookie. Sift ...

My sweet Max is nine years old.  Halfway to 18 when he may pack his bags and head out to find his fortune. To My Eldest: I love the way you look at the world. I love your humor. I love your curiosity. I love your poetic nature. I love your stick fort. I love your collections. I love your creations. I love how you love Tiger. I love your heart. 

Saturday, we went to a Zoo birthday party for our little friend Norah, who turned two years old. Todd had parked by the Muny because it was insanely gorgeous out and the entire city of St. Louis made Forest Park the day's destination. On our way to the car, we passed one of my favorite spots in all of Forest Park, the World's Fair Pavilion. The fountain below, drained of water, made for a great climbing spot. As the boys jumped and leaped and "snow skied" from rock platform to rock platform, Todd and I made our way to the bricks in front. After Brian passed away, I purchased a brick through Forest Park Forever to honor him and his love for making things more beautiful.  Brian had the gift of envisioning brokenness into beauty and was filled with the grace to embrace that process. On his brick is engraved: Brian Maynor Lived and Loved By His Grace After the boys had leaped and jumped to their heart's desire, they made their way down to see Daddy Brian's br...

Several weeks ago I spent three days with four beautiful women.  Four strong, independent, brilliant, creative, lovely women. I listened...I absorbed...I breathed their various perspectives and invaluable wisdom on work, motherhood, faith, and family. And I, like Luke to his Obi-Wan, began a journey of...let's say....rediscover. In the last twelve years, I've become a wife, a mother, a widow, and a wife again. All good....all beautiful, even in its challenges. I think maybe as I've entered middle age, I can honestly say I comprehend the great calling of being a wife and mother. Loving, serving, and caring for my husband until he entered the gates of glory taught me the fragility of human life and the acceptance that I am not in control of my universe.  Being a widow taught me how strong I can be and how God made women with great purpose. Finding love again taught me about grace.  The grace to love and be loved. The grace to trust. The grace to belly laugh.  The g...

As we were looking at lamps in Home Goods, Max said, "Mommy, you are not a fancy kind of girl. You are a normal girl, and I like that." Briggs, as he is telling us his bad dream: "So the bad guy came and took Squishy from me and it was terrible.  Then I put my mind on pause....."  (Oh, how I wish I could put my mind on pause!) After Briggs was diagnosed with strep throat and told to not kiss or get too close to his brother:  "Mommy, when can I go near anyone I love?  It is hard not to get close to you and Max and Daddy." Max to Daddy:  "You look like a real dad."

I've decided it might be time to post the mommy prayers I elicit most days.  And then some nights.  And, well, then some mornings because my prayers are never ceasing.  For survival. Dear God, Thank you for valentines.  Not that I really love Valentine's Day, but I love that my boys love Valentine's Day. Create. Plan. Execute.  What more could a mommy ask for?  Well, maybe a dozen roses....or a night off...or a bottle of my favorite wine...or a pedicure...but really, a create/plan/execute is far more beautiful and keepsakeish than any wine/pedicure/roses. Thank you for little boys. They are just perfect---in their puppy love, playful-wrestle sort of way. They love deeply.  And passionately.  Give me patience...and wisdom as I love these puppies to adulthood.  Or at least until they are able to feed and clothe themselves.  Please give me insight into their characters....into their passions and desires and motivations. May I please h...

Okay, so I know I posted a few days ago my base quick bread recipe.  Well, I tried something else, but this is only for banana bread.  I like banana bread, but I'm always looking for ways to make it more interesting--and less fattening.  So this is adapted from The Canyon Ranch Cooks: Preheat oven to 350.  See below for pan prep. 3 small, ripe bananas, mashed--about 1 cup 1/4 cup brewed coffee 1/2 cup brown sugar (could sub regular sugar--i just like how the molasses flavor mixes with the coffee) 1/4 cup unsweetened applesauce (i usually blend an apple with a little water--it's easier than stocking applesauce) 2 eggs 1 1/2 cups spelt flour (you can use regular whole wheat, but sub a little bread flour for the rise) 1/4 cup coconut flour (can skip if you don't have it--but use one less egg) 3/4 tsp baking soda 1/4 tsp baking powder 1/2 tsp (or more) of allspice 1/2 tsp (or more) of cinnamon splash of almond extract ( if you prefer vanilla, that works, t...

In the words of The Beautiful South--"I want my wind-swept, Ingrid Bergman kiss."   No wonder we cheer for Maximus and Frodo and Harry Potter.  For years, I've loved dissecting movies and books, engaging with the hero and his quest as he searches for his elixir. It's good to know it's the way we are designed.   A Sacred Romance In all of our hearts lies a longing for a Sacred Romance. It will not go away in spite of our efforts over the years to anesthetize or ignore its song, or attach it to a single person or endeavor. It is a Romance couched in mystery and set deeply within us. It cannot be categorized into propositional truths or fully known any more than studying the anatomy of a corpse would help us know the person who once inhabited it. Philosophers call this Romance, this heart yearning set within us, the longing for transcendence; the desire to be part of something larger than ourselves, to be part of something out of the ordinary that is good. Transc...

I thought that might get your attention.  I love to bake.  I sometimes follow a recipe but more often than not, I improvise--mostly because a. I don't necessarily have all ingredients on hand or b. I need to raise the nutritional content or c. I'm not a rule follower.   And then there is my love affair with spelt flour.  I love spelt.  It can be substituted 1:1 for wheat flour, but it is nuttier, sweeter and higher in protein.  It is also easier on the digestive system.  My new base recipe for pumpkin and banana bread. 1.5 cups spelt flour .5 cup coconut flour 2 tsp baking soda 1/2 tsp baking powder 1/2 cup sugar--I use the "healthy" kind--evaporated cane juice.  But really it's just sugar.  1/2 tsp maca powder (Optional.  You can add more if you like, but be careful, this stuff is STRONG) 2 eggs  1/2 cup  (or a dribble more) of buttermilk 1/8 cup unsweetened applesauce--I usually just put my...

I love laughing. Growing up, I frequently laughed at my father and brother with their running commentaries on most any subject presented. And now with our Big Mac around, we laugh....a lot.   Max has a natural penchant for humor. He's Brian and then some. It's sort of slapstick, Monty Python humor. Briggs, on the other hand, is a bit more serious.  I'm not sure he sees the whole point of the humorous stupidity. We watched Home Alone and Jim Carrey's Grinch this season, and Todd took the boys to see Yogi Bear.  Yes, we've had our fill of funny movies.  My favorite line from Max was, of course, a little more poetic:  "Mommy, the Grinch has fingers like sugar snap peas."   For a child who hates writing but makes ingenious connections, I think he may be a budding poet. Daddy Brian would be so proud :).

A few nights ago, we were eating dinner and all of a sudden Briggs pipes up:  "Think.  Don't drink and drive."  Okay.  Good conversation starter, considering it is the holidays and spirits typically flow.  But this is my six year old.  So we asked why and where he had learned that.....he read it on a billboard.  Makes sense.  But then he said, "Children and dogs should not drink and drive. It isn't safe." Children and dogs????  And are we talking orange juice or beer? Biting the inside of my cheeks, we pursued this line of reasoning with questions, mostly about the dogs and whether or not he understood to which drink the phrase referred. Apparently, he just figured it would be dangerous if children and dogs drink and drive because they might get hurt. We explained the difference between drinks like soda, coffee and orange juice (I had a panic for a minute because my kids have seen me drink coffee daily...as I am driving) and adult beverag...

Recently, I taught some poetry writing workshop lessons to Max's third grade class. It's been awhile since teaching elementary school kids, especially those under the age of 10.  I forgot what it was like to have a gaggle of little people follow you around the room itching to read their creative work or to motivate little boys who would rather play with dust bunnies than write. Such enthusiasm--with high schoolers, they would much rather talk to each other than to me--these little guys were buzzing with creativity and excitement over writing poetry.   One of Max's assignments was to write a poem about something at home and to write to the something--be it an object or an event or even a person. Dabble in personification. So he decided to write about Briggs.... Briggs [all about my brother] by Maxwell Maynor Fall 2010 Briggs you are loving you are kind you are smart in the mind. You are funny You are kind You are kinda Weird sometimes. I love you very much So I won’...

Five years ago today (it was actually a Monday), Brian entered the gates of heaven.   Max's prayer this morning over breakfast:  "Dear Jesus, thank you for this day.  And thank you that five years ago Daddy had his homecoming." Briggs' prayer that followed:  "Dear Jesus, thank you for this day.  And thank you that Daddy is in heaven with you." As I reflect on this year, once again I marvel at God's faithfulness and his sweet hand of redemption. I think back to that first anniversary of his homecoming when I trudged through each moment as though I was in quicksand. Deep breath. Foot forward. I still wasn't sure it was real.  But God remained faithful and I never quite sunk so deep that I couldn't move. Today we went to see Brian's stone and Max leaned down to kiss it. He leaned up and said, "Mommy, I remember when Daddy couldn't breathe very well and had that machine.  And I asked him to play legos with me--the Duplo legos--an...

B:  Why did Mario and Luigi cross the road?  To get Princess Peach and Toad. M:  Why did the Scarecrow cross the road?  To "scare" crows.

I don't like my thighs.  Never have, and probably never will.  There is just *a lot* of them--more than I want. And I know the filter from my brain to my mouth is rather thin. Rice paper thin. "Did I really just say that out loud?"  And then there is the issue of my independence.  Funny how I still think I am totally in control, yet clearly I am wrong. Create the earth? No. Make the sun shine? No. Decide how the story ends?  Not really. But the thing is...despite all my shortcomings, flaws, and insecurities, I'm beautiful. Way beautiful.   Stunning, as Lucy Van Pelt would say.   And my life is beautiful. Way beautiful. Stunning, in fact.  Grace. Again.  Beautiful, Beautiful by Francesca Battistelli Don’t know how it is You looked at me And saw the person that I could be Awakening my heart Breaking through the dark Suddenly Your grace Like sunlight burning at midnight Making my life something so Beautiful, beautiful Mercy...

I'm way behind on posting--there are so many beautiful tidbits that come from the "mouths of babes." I'm at the tail end of being a part of a musical (behind the scenes, of course), still adjusting to married life and systems we have yet to create, and continuing to learn the delicate balance of work/family/play. But...onto the beautiful tidbit.  Now this one occurred at 5:45 this morning and I was half asleep, so I'm sure I will miss most of the details. But M came into our bed and snuggled up close announcing--"Mommy, I had another bad dream."  This, by the way, occasionally happens.  We all have them, yes? My sweet son proceeded to tell me about people chasing him, they turned into zombies and then he said, "and that translated into me running as fast as I could to safety.  Then I woke up." I often have the same dream (though not sure I've been chased by zombies--more like the sleestaks from Land of the Lost)--and it struck me that ...

M:  Hey, Mommy, if there was a contest between Michaelangelo and DaVinci for the best artist, do you know who I would vote for? Mommy:  Who? M:  DaVinci. He made that important statue of David. But did you know that David was naked in the statue?  And had no arms? This conversation took place right after Max had gone to the bathroom and taken a shower. I smiled realizing that my 8-year-old, not-so-little boy was thinking about century old artists.   Yep, kind of beautiful. 

M sees a moth on the ground and promptly stomps on it. B's response:  "Max! You just killed God's (pronounced gawd's) creation!"

Until We Are Broken, Our Lives Will Be Self-Centered True strength does not come out of bravado. Until we are broken, our life will be self-centered, self-reliant; our strength will be our own. So long as you think you are really something in and of yourself, what will you need God for? I don't trust a man who hasn't suffered; I don't let a man get close to me who hasn't faced his wound. Think of the posers you know-are they the kind of man you would call at 2:00 A.M., when life is collapsing around you? Not me. I don't want cliches; I want deep, soulful truth, and that only comes when a man has walked the road I've been talking about.  As  Frederick Buechner  says, To do for yourself the best that you have it in you to do-to grit your teeth and clench your fists in order to survive the world at its harshest and worst-is, by that very act, to be unable to let something be done for you and in you that is more wonderful still. The trouble with steeling yoursel...

Two weeks after my first husband entered the gates of heaven, I fell in love with Elphaba.  I didn't mean to--especially after everything I'd been through--but it was hard not to be infatuated with the green-skinned beauty who--well--defied gravity.  For many, many years--I would spend at least six Sunday nights a year with my BFF from high school seeing some of the greatest (and not so greatest) shows in history at the Fox Theatre-- Jekyll and Hyde, Bring on Da Noise, Bring on Da Funk, Footloose, Fosse --too many to count and then there was Wicked . After every show, I would call Brian on the way home and talk him through all the amazing (or not so amazing) points of the show, even so much as acting out my favorite part when I walked in the door at 10:30 p.m.  So it was a little bit off-setting when--on a late November evening--I didn't have anyone to call after I had encountered my soul sister.  My loving and most gentle little brother was the recipient of my phone...

Last week I got married. Graciously—for a second time. My first go around donned the dress, the veil, the church, the 300 people. This time it was different. On the beach, with best friends and family. Sand and sea. Barefoot. Champagne brunch on a rooftop. Evening gathering, filled with immeasurable love and laughter. I could not have designed anything more perfect. Even with all its imperfections. As I’ve reflected on that moment of pure grace, I keep dancing around the great biblical notion of privileged suffering. Maybe it’s all those years in Los Angeles when I first learned of the “very important people’ concept—being on the list for On the Rox, getting in the side door with Vince Vaughn or hanging with Prince in the VIP room. Name-dropping. Walking on the red carpet. The Deserved. The Entitled. But what if the deserved didn’t get to be first? Instead, they were last? VIP suffering, maybe? As I’ve traversed life as a widow—one without a partner but never alone...

M: "Mom, who would win if a TRex and a Dragon got in a duel but the dragon did not have his fire or wings?" B: (After being asked about his favorite part of a recently attended wedding): "The Cake and the Canoe (the bride and groom canoed across the pond to the reception).

An excerpt from Captivating : Unveiling our beauty really just means unveiling our feminine hearts. It's scary, for sure. That is why it is our greatest expression of faith, because we are going to have to trust Jesus-really trust him. We'll have to trust him that we have a beauty, that what he has said of us is true. And we'll have to trust him with how it goes when we offer it, because that is out of our control. We'll have to trust him when it hurts, and we'll have to trust him when we are finally seen and enjoyed. That's why unveiling our beauty is how we live by faith. Unveiling our beauty is our greatest expression of hope. We hope it will matter, that our beauty really does make a difference. We hope there is a greater and higher Beauty, hope we are reflecting that Beauty, and hope it will triumph. Our hope is that all is well because of Jesus, and that all will be well because of him. So we unveil beauty in hope. And finally, we unveil beauty in th...

Recently we traveled (by car--it was an adventure) to Colorado to visit one of my college roommates. Four adults + six kids + lots of activities = loads of fun. Activity List: Football with the dads Park play Alpine Slide Bungee jumping (back flips rule!!) Swimming pool for the day Movie night Science museum (dinosaurs and mummy exhibits!) Ice cream cones Boy sleep over at Poppy's Turkey burgers on the grill Drum lessons with Ian Shows and Tricks in the backyard (yes, we have video) Date night for the Parentals GNO for the roommates

Going to soccer camp at WCA Making friends Drinking Gatorade Going swimming at the pool Floating down the lazy river Flying down the water slide Playing kickball in the backyard Planting basil Eating popsicles Taking evening outings Watching the Cards play Listening to music outside Taking trips to visit friends and family Colorado California Experiencing Grace Experiencing Redemption Beautiful days of summer are here.

M: Mom, do they have Aunt and Uncle Day like they have Mother's Day and Father's Day? S: No. M: Well, they should. I would make Aunt Mimi, Aunt Nealy, Uncle Peepee, and Uncle Stephen cards and do stuff for them. They deserve it! Oh, and I would wrestle Uncle Peepee.

My boys have been well-trained. Thanks, Nana. They planned everything by themselves and executed the perfect Mother's Day morning for me. There was a note on the cabinet where I keep my coffee cups. It said, "Look in here." So I did. A gorgeous card made by Max. And a yellow bracelet that said Strength on it. "Mommy, I wanted blue but Mrs. Rahm didn't have anymore, so I picked yellow. And then I saw that it said strength and I thought that fit you because we haven't had Daddy here since we were way little." Then, my little peeps (all whispering) went outside and brought me a flower that Briggs had grown in class. They had kept it alive for two whole days. Outside, hidden. Then I received a coupon book. From B--offering to do things like water the plants and give me some quiet time. And then came the hugs and kisses. The best part.

So last night we went to church. Max sang songs with the choir, one of two boys up there. What I love about him is that he does what he wants and doesn't care what anyone thinks. He sang his heart out. And Briggs--had me in tears--they picked out gifts for their family in his catechism class--and he picked out a pair of shoes for me (size 13 little girls, mind you) and was SO proud of them. All I could think of was that song they play at Christmas--Christmas Shoes--about a little boy buying shoes for his dying mother--I couldn't stop crying or hugging him. I have the sweetest little guys in the world. How I love them.

WHO THE MEEK ARE NOT Not the bristle-bearded Igors bent under burlap sacks, not peasants knee-deep in the rice paddy muck, nor the serfs whose quarter-moon sickles make the wheat fall in waves they don't get to eat. My friend the Franciscan nun says we misread that word "meek" in the Bible verse that blesses them. To undersand the meek (she says) picture a great stallion at full gallop in a meadow, who-- at his master's voice--sizes up to a stunned but instant halt. So with the strain of holding that great power in check, the muscles along the arched neck keep eddying, and only the velvet ears prick forward, awaiting the next order. -Mary Karr It's so easy to picture myself in the rice paddies. In many ways, my story--my main character--could look more like the heroine of the The Good Earth. Not that she was weak....but...I'd rather have velvet ears. And fall down the rabbit hole. And meet a wizard and fight the White Witch. And then ride the waves of a st...

One day after school not too long ago, our favorite high schooler in the world, Ellie, was hanging out with us. I asked her to take a family picture, much like the one we did last year, so that I could use it for our Christmas greeting. M and B raced to their rooms, rummaged through drawers and such, and emerged quite handsomely in vests and ties. For about a 1/2 hour we posed, made funny faces, irritated each other, even tried to do a couple pictures outside (you can only imagine). Well, this was the very last one we took, and it worked well enough. I love my little family.

The tree is up, the lights are on, and the Christmas music continuously echos through my cozy home. And two little boys are getting into the spirit of the season. Not long ago, B started singing, much like Mariah Carey - "All I Want For Christmas is You." I think he was singing to his favorite piggy, Squishy. Funny thing about Christmas, it brings such exacerbated emotion. I've decided most of it is a ploy by the advertisers, but there is always that bit of truth that is thread throughout the commercial deluge of stimuli. I've sort of fallen in love with Amy Grant's song, "I Need a Silent Night." Thinking back so many years ago, I picture a stable, a bed of hay, two teenagers, and bunch of smelly animals. And probably taking place in the summer not the dead of winter. How beautiful it must have been. As I embark on this festive season, I need that silent night, to help me remember why we even have green and red and fudge and presents. Yes, it cam...

First, the stitches. About a week ago during one of Max's evening soccer practices, we had quite the event. B fell and bumped the back of his head on the play structure. Lots of bustling parents and plenty of tears later, we arrived at Missouri Baptist Hospital to quickly learn that a few stitches were necessary for my very brave five year old. We spent many a minutes (almost two hours) watching Bugs Bunny/Road Runner, singing songs, and telling stories while we waited for the doctor to perform the procedure. B was brave, brave, brave with only a few tears. Mommy, on the other hand, cried plenty. But there was a popsicle at the end of the evening and lots of snuggles (and piggies) when he got home. On another note - here is the conversation that ensued this evening: M: Mom, did you know that I'm 7 and I still sleep with a stuffed animal? S: Do you think that is good or bad? M: Well, it's bad. No, I mean, I don't know. What do you think? S: Did someone say...

Tonight we had a rough night. Everyone was tired and basically I waited way too long to do the bedtime routine, mainly because all of us have screen addiction - we are into learning computer games around here as incentives to finish homework. Okay...so...as Max was in the bath and I was frustrated with several behavior issues, I said to him, "Please stop being sassy - I think you are reading too much of Calvin and Hobbes. (he loves it because there is a tiger - i'm not so fond of the attitude)" His response: "Oh, I was sassy way before reading Calvin and Hobbes." After baths, I needed to view a video for tomorrow that had Brian in it - Max wanted to watch it. He crawled up next to me, put his hand on my back (and kept it there for the whole video) and said, "It's okay if you get sad Mommy, I'm right here."

While playing Mario Kart online (with good friends): M (who is baby luigi): "You better not mess with a baby!" M and B: "They are kicking our butts!" Not sure where they learned that one....

I Am a Rock Star by M. Maynor I am a rock star! Master of the skull. I believe in God forever and ever and ever. Not for three or four or five or six days. I do it every day in my life.

Okay, I know, it's almost the end of July. Better late than never, right? Well, I'm not a huge Mother's Day fan. But my own mother is and she has trained my boys by teaching them to make cards, to be sweet and do loving things for me on that day. So, it's morning, and of course, I'm up before anyone else, and I'm busy making coffee when I hear Max sort of running down the hall. He's usually not so exuberant in the morning, but I didn't think too much about it. He asked if I had made my coffee yet (now, I was curious - that is never a question I usually get in the morning) - I said I was working on it but it would be a few minutes - heating water, etc. He hovered around me and finally said, "why don't you get my vitamins out?" At this point, it was clear he wanted me to do something specific, so I complied and opened the cabinet to get the vitamins - and out fell a gorgeous homemade card. He beamed. Apparently, in the middle of the nigh...

Painting Like Michelangelo Originally uploaded by smaynor Briggs and best buddy Luke are preparing to paint Bible stories while on their backs under a table, just like Michelangelo did when he painted the ceiling of the Sistine Chapel - gotta love Mrs. Burzinski. I need to organize pictures of his art and then I'll post all his work.

a quick stop before le pain de quotidien Originally uploaded by smaynor I had the privilege of spending a few days in London with one of my roommates from college. She and her family live in Surrey, where life moves a little slower and 4:00 tea abounds. My friend and I traversed the great city, seeing Westminster Abbey, the British Museum, the Portrait Gallery, Portabello Road Flea Market, Parliament, and a host of other glorious sites, one of which was a stop at the communal table--Le Pain de Quotidien. An afternoon at Windsor Castle, a morning at Stonehenge, High Tea in London--I'm amazed at the intricacies of story throughout our fragile world.

Rockin' Out Originally uploaded by smaynor Sometime in early spring, there was a concert in my living room. Snagged this great shot of the keyboard player.

Going back a few months, both my boys entered odd digits this year. In lieu of birthday parties, each one had a "date" with me--Max to see Cirque Dreams at the Fox and Briggs to the new wing of the Magic House. Max, though he was seven, still wanted to sit on my lap the whole show, his favorite part being the "tiger" acrobats--these ridiculously strong men who climbed up each other (only strength, no props) to be a four person tower. We went with my best friend from high school, Kristen, and her family. At some point, she said to me--"Connor (her 10 year old son) would be in Tim's lap if Tim would let him." Little boys.... Briggs could not have been more excited to explore and learn at the Magic House. Just yesterday, we were invited for a Free Night with our church, and Briggs "explained" everything to Max--I think he will be running the country someday. More birthday pics to come.

So much to share: Birthdays Spring Days Trips New Endeavors Mother's Day surprises Last of school days Will do so. Very Soon. Lots of pictures.

Thank you for all the prayers for Max. We are not out of this yet - but at the very least, we see some healing and maybe not as many little pox places as before. He's in much better spirits now. I sometime marvel at God's creation as I look at my two boys - so different and so complex. I've been doing a fair amount of reading on learning styles in order to best support the both of them. As I've discovered, they learn in completely opposite ways. You can only imagine homework time. Last week, Briggs brought home two books that he wanted to read and promptly sat on the couch and read them. Max brought home an invention - a water catcher that he'd made out of recycled material during center time - and promptly went outside to try and hook it up. Briggs invents more homework. Max doodles all over his spelling sheet. I LOVE my little guys!

Please pray for Max. He has a type of pox virus that is wreaking havoc on his immune system. In order to treat it, he is very uncomfortable, and it seems to be leaving little pockmarks, which could be permanent. Please pray that God would heal him completely and that there would be no permanent marks. Thanks.