I don't know why I love Saturdays so much. The pace doesn't seem to be any slower that the rest of our week, and on average Saturdays are usually overloaded with ministry. .Andrey has a morning soccer tournament and evening soccer evangelism. I usually have a baby shower, speaking engagment, conference or small group to rush to throughout the day. Plans for Saturday usually includes finding a sitter or dragging (literally, we usually walk) the kids with me wherever I'm bound. Nastia, our morning bird, sees to it that we don't sleep in on Saturdays. However, thanks to BBC's birlliant Mr. Maker, I get an extra 30 minutes of sleep on Saturdays, and the kids get to practice their british accents. William and Anastasia snuggle under our covers and every once in a while I open up my left eye to see what craft Mr. Maker is presenting today. My little wunderkinds have already been exposed to so many variations of English, that can nail british accent, and taunt their Papa with a Russian accent,( complete with grammatical mistakes). Something along the lines of "It is a so beautiful day" But don't worry, I've done my part in passing on my Texas roots. Nastia can turn the word "chips" into four sylables. I think the record was when she asked for a "dru-ah-ah-ah-nk" (drink to those of you that don't speak Texan). With the thrity minute of exra snoozing that Mr. Maker saw too, we are up and moving by 7:30.
It's Febaury and we have a nice solid belowing freezing temperture outside. All nature and manmade connocotions are hidden under a think blanket of snow. My little ones are outside delighitng in the wonders of a white Christmas. As a child growing up in balmy East Texas, I used to watch those sentimental Campbell's Soup commericals with great envy. You know, the ones where the kid comes in from the snow and melts around a steaming bowl of of sooo delicious, and yet nutrious soup. Well, although the thought of stewed cabbage and beets may not bring the word delicious to mind for most, don't forget my kids were born in Kiev. Borscht is thier comfort food, and one of the few ways I can get my picky eater to eat his veggies. In a few minutes they will make trudge their way back into the house. We'll go through the exhausting process of removing snow suits, hats, boots, wool socks and a couple of layers of clothes. They will defrost around their steaming bowls of red borscht and then we will climb upstairs for a short winter's nap, bdfore our Saturday madness begins again. I'm praying that these campbell soup moments will be memories that last.
It's Febaury and we have a nice solid belowing freezing temperture outside. All nature and manmade connocotions are hidden under a think blanket of snow. My little ones are outside delighitng in the wonders of a white Christmas. As a child growing up in balmy East Texas, I used to watch those sentimental Campbell's Soup commericals with great envy. You know, the ones where the kid comes in from the snow and melts around a steaming bowl of of sooo delicious, and yet nutrious soup. Well, although the thought of stewed cabbage and beets may not bring the word delicious to mind for most, don't forget my kids were born in Kiev. Borscht is thier comfort food, and one of the few ways I can get my picky eater to eat his veggies. In a few minutes they will make trudge their way back into the house. We'll go through the exhausting process of removing snow suits, hats, boots, wool socks and a couple of layers of clothes. They will defrost around their steaming bowls of red borscht and then we will climb upstairs for a short winter's nap, bdfore our Saturday madness begins again. I'm praying that these campbell soup moments will be memories that last.
Oh, I just LOVE this entry.
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