Ain't nobody got time for that

Who has time to blog in the summertime? Who has time to read blogs in the summertime? Who wants to sit inside on these beautiful days? Who wants their hands on computer keys when they could have their hands on their kids - sweet kids in dress up clothes offering milk mustache kisses and begging for help with bake sales?

Not me.

We have one more week of summer vacation before Rupp Academy starts up. (Starting a little early this year because of our home-leave next summer!) That means just one more week to visit the science museum, swim in our questionable convenient neighborhood pool, binge on popsicles, and play board games in our pjs until noon.

new cord, new chapter

Turns out our internet has been spotty and finally gave out completely because George Fuzzy, our 2-year-old long-haired lop-eared overgrown bunny, was chewing the cord from his favorite hiding place under the entertainment center.

The internet repair man found the chewed cord today and replaced it, so I can FINALLY post the pictures from Jubilee's Wyldstyle birthday.

presents at breakfast, a Rupp tradition

one cute birthday girl

A Wyldstyle cake. Neon food coloring, BTW, gives kids "wyld" colored poo...

celebrating in the evening in our pjs with dear friends (pardon the low quality of the pic; we need to use our real camera instead of our phone)

And now our youngest is 5, which makes us officially old. Or at least we are officially starting a new chapter of our lives, in which all of our kids are "school age." Wow, time absolutely flies.

Mama's behind the wheel!

My kids didn't believe I could actually drive (though I assured them it was so) until yesterday when I FINALLY received my local driver's license. It took many months, three medical exams, countless hours of memorizing poorly-translated and utterly pointless multiple choice questions, a renewed American drivers license through the mail (oversight on our part), and a renewed visa. Then I took a nail-biting 45-minute test, on which I scored 94%, and was finally handed my prize.

Why are ID pics so hideous? I look a lot like my late grandmother here, actually, which redeems it some.

But only the kids were around to congratulate me. Daniel is out of the country attending some on-campus classes, where he is soaking up the sun and eating at places like this:

And this:

Steak Gorgonzola, anyone? In my dreams.

I know why the weaned child rests

Our dear "Miss Candle" sent us a care package recently, and in it was Ann Voskamp's One Thousand Gifts devotional. I loved the book, and now I am loving the devotional. Each day is like a word-danish to go along with my coffee; a poem-arrow pointing me to God. (Voskamp uses lots of made up hyphenated words so I thought I'd do the same).

I especially loved one particular entry around Psalm 131:2 which reads, "Surely I have composed and quieted my soul; like a weaned child rests against his mother, my soul is like a weaned child within me."

I love this verse, though I have only ever eye-brushed it before. This week I stared at it, long and hard, looking into the world of its implications. A weaned child longs for breast milk as I long for the audible voice of God. As I long for His physical hand stroking my hair, and for the complete absence of pain that His absolute presence would surely bring.

And yet a weaned child finally comes to the point when he can rest his head on his mother's milk-scented breast, denied the thing he wants, but allowed access forever to the person he needs.

Missing our man this month, as he is out of the country for a PhD course. XOXO