Well , what a week. Have been home by myself, Rog is on the west coast doing some business stuff and I have held the helm with 10 kids at three different schools, and one working to transport. I am looking forward to him coming home even if I am leaving for Nashville just after that. Just a flying (meaning fast) trip to record one song then back to the always eventful Cressbrook Creek.

Cooked up a storm for dinner tonight and Isaiah has finally started to only have two helpings instead of three. I suggested he would be better off with some more lunch so he wouldn't be so hungry as he is away for eight hours in the day. He is beginning to realize how much of his learning he has missed. He has tired and dry eyes, probably the air conditioning which he is not used to, and his brain is just about worn out. He is also beginning to understand the rules of the house, which are not many, mainly respect to each other, tidy your room, bring your dirty clothes (of which their are piles and piles) down to the laundry, and have manners at all times. Also chewing with your mouth closed is a biggie in this house!! Munch, munch and slurp, slurp is not a sound I relish.

One of my precious daughter in laws had to go to court for a traffic thingo yesterday. I surely felt for her. I am very intimidated by anything that looks like a judge or policeman who wants to pull you over. She is just about three months pregnant with my seventh grandchild and their second child. So, anything like being pulled over is like major emotional meltdown at this stage of the pregnancy. She is also an Australian, adjusting as I did many years ago, to Southern American life. At least she wasn't chucking up yesterday in court, but managed to do that all day today. As they already have a precious little boy, but they would love a little sister, so in my travels to "Wally World" (Walmart for those of you who don't know the slang) I found the most precious little pink sleeper and one of those extremely hard to find pink sleeping bags with no feet to cheer her up. I left the tags on just in case, but let's face it five to one in the boy to girl ratio must mean we are due for another granddaughter!

I am also in a tizz about the play I am directing. It seems I just can't find a "grandfather". They have all left home, gone out of town, or are going out of town, or have just plain fell of the face of the earth. The one I had has some health issues, which I know are going to be fine, but are a priority over a silly little (not to me mind you) British comedy. I am looking sideways at hubby who is used to being before many audiences (speaking mind you) with a comedic flair. Pity he still has his teeth. I really would have loved a "gummy" grand-dad. Sort of like my youngest grandchild, who just has one tooth, and smiles his big "gummy" smile. You know the one I mean, and it comes with the big bald head with no hair yet. But oh, so precious, wish I could bottle it and bring it out on the tough days, just to remind me that somehow it all works for good in the end.

My toughest twins have had a week too. These are my nine year olds who weren't supposed to do anything at all including live, but are simply amazing and continue to astound me every day as they show all the doctors and pessimists that love and nurture and early intervention does count. They have just started the third grade (a year behind because of their incredible struggles) and the math in their lovely private school just isn't right for them. Well after realizing that the "new teacher" was not comfortable with trying something different for them in the class room, I didn't know whether to be angry, laugh or cry. But I am so incredibly blessed by those around them who have poured into them believing in them as much as I, that their teacher from last year (organized by their tutor for dyslexia and my wonderful friend who is the principal) is going to teach them their own course of math. Dyslexics have a very hard time with math and not because they can't learn it, but because they learn in an entirely different way.

So with all of that going on, the ear infection, the temperature which I was hoping was not Swine flu, the cuts and scrapes that come with ten kids running around, the poison ivy that one of the twins managed to get on his leg from somewhere (why does all this happen when Rog is away), I think we managed pretty well. The washing is all done, the house is tidy (mostly) the kitchen is clean (except for those last minute before bed 14 year old snack remnants) and the sounds from above are abating into the quiet that I hope is my night.