Entropy

This last weekend at church my Pastor talked about Entropy and the laws of Thermodynamics (don't fear, he's more interesting that it sounds :))... I never really knew what the term meant, since I have mentally blocked out that portion of my high school years, but apparently, entropy is a principle relating to how much chaos there is in a system. (*Now hunny, if you read this and I got that wrong, suck it. I can live with my wrong-ness until I have to teach the kids high school science. It's the beauty of homeschooling, I get to re-learn everything anyway.). So I was pondering Chaos yesterday while doing housework, and I realized that I now have something to blame for my housework woes (other than my family, that is). Here's the short list of examples of how entropy is making my life more difficult each day:

-With laundry, as soon as you get used to righting inside-out shirts before folding them, inevitably you'll pick up a right-side-out shirt, turn it inside-out, and then have to switch it back again. Entropy.


- As soon as you clean floors, milk WILL be spilt. And yes, I do cry over it thank-u-very-much. Entropy.


- As soon as the kitchen's clean, dishwasher unloaded, and sink is empty, it's time to cook again and mess the dang thing up again. Entropy.


- Laundry all done and put away? Someone's gonna pee their pants. Why? ENTROPY.


- As soon as your hands are covered in cooking goo (eggs, bread dough, flour breading, etc.) someone WILL need hollar, "Mommy, I gotta go POO POO right now!" - Damn you entropy!

And don't even get me started on crumbs and sand on my floor.

"You threw up where!?? Suuuuuuper!"

And my kids... definitely experts on entropy. Heck, I'd even go so far to call them AGENTS of entropy. Their weapons in the fight against orderliness? Playdough, peanut-butter-and-Jelly sandwiches, kazoos, glitter, tempura paint, full milk glasses, and, lest we forget, poorly timed digestive outbursts.

So in sum, thank you Pastor Frank, for giving name to the force that shapes my days, keeps me addicted to caffienated drinks, and sucks the nice-mommy-ness out of me. I also plan to blame entropy for my fluffy midsection, the need for padded bras, and those white hairs I keep pulling out. Believe me, it's much nicer to blame (poorly understood) thermodynamic principles than to go on a compulsive cleaning rampage, swearing at my family and digging thru closets full of stuff better off buried anyway. And in the meantime, I'll keep singing this song, cause it sums up what gets me thru the toughest days, when Entropy carries a sledgehammer thru my otherwise peaceful world...

Sarah's got a new name...

This last weekend we were camping at Lake Gaston, and what a lovely weekend it was! On the first evening, while we were huddled around the campfire and the kids munched marshmallows, my dad decided to try to give the kids new nicknames because he' s silly and a bit wierd and funny that way. "I'll call you 'Peanut'," he christened Hannah. "I'm PEANUT!," she announced proudly to the rest of us. Sarah, not to be outdone or left out, couldn't quite wait for her Papaw to name her. She squirmed in her chair as best she could waiting while Papaw pointed at her and mused, "Hmmm... what should I call you?"
"Pinch-nut!" she declared. "Call me PINCH-NUT!"
Somewhere behind her was the sound of my mother, Ryan, and I falling out of our chair with giggles. Papaw was, as yet, unawares, since he can't hardly hear a word they say. He giggled too, though, once we hollered it to him. ;)
Meanwhile, after about a million "Pinchnut" jokes throughout the weekend and a day or so, Sarah offered up the evening blessing before our meal. Her Nonnie, as we call my mom, was so impressed with Sarah's prayer that she declared, "She's my little evangelist, that one."
"Just call her 'Pastor Pinchnut'!," I stated.
And so, "Pastor Pinchnut," she is.
The End. Snort.