The Big Picture

Detail-oriented people astound me. I am so amazed by them that I had to marry one just to study them up close. I am about as completely "big picture" as it is possible to be, and my brain insists that I apply this thinking to everything in my life. This makes it extremely hard for me to find the reality in my many, many dreams.

Hence, God thought it best that he send MacGyver my way. My husband is about as detail driven as I am big picture. As you can imagine, this has not always made for a peaceful coexistence, but now that we've been married almost 11 years, we're starting to appreciate the other's ability, and work together more than we work against each other. I think given another 11 years, we'll be well on our way to getting some things done.

 



As I mentioned on my other blog, I call him MacGyver because he is just like the 80's TV character. Give the man a lollipop and a paperclip, he'll build you a time machine. I'm truly amazed by his uncanny abilities. They seem to be rubbing off on our second oldest child, a newly 6 year old. He's a chip off the old block, (not that you're old, MacGyver...) and I'm looking forward to having two of them in the house. So, henceforth when I'm mentioning our oldest son I will be referring to him as "Son of MacGyver" or MacGyver II.

 My oldest daughter, who is almost 8, shares more qualities with me. She can't be bothered for details or anything in life that is not first and foremost FUN. Her spirit runs with the wild horses that she loves more than life itself and so I have bequeathed her the blog name of Spirit.

  






 
My youngest daughter was literally born screaming for her way. She has an iron will of determination. If she had a theme song it would go something like Don't tell me that I CAN'T! This has been very handy when it comes to things like potty-training and as you can see... vacuuming. It doesn't work out so well when what Mom wants conflicts with what 3 year old wants. So I've nicknamed her The Sarge.

Then there's our fourth child. How does one begin to explain this nearly-eighteen month old? How does one explain ANY nearly-eighteen month old? This shenanigan in the picture is reminiscent of most of our day with dear little toddler. Which probably explains my desperate need to simplify. Littlest seems to think that he is the cutest thing ever to get up and walk and insistently lets us know when we aren't paying attention to him with a scream that reaches decibels not meant for the human ear. Therefore, he shall henceforth be known as Screech.

Now that you've met my crazy family, this blog is most likely starting to make perfect sense. I hope I'm not the only one with a busy, crazy, but strangely happy existence. I hope you will hang around and check back every few days, because I think I've learned some things by trial and error that I can share, and I'm hoping that you, my readers, will have many ideas to share as well.