(Taken from Bonnie's post.)
I am: staying up really late.
I think: too much about things
I know: too little about too many things
I want: to know more about so many things.
I have: an intense hatred for salamanders and mice
I dislike: when people come down on someone for using discernment and instead label it intolerance
I miss: going on dates with my husband
I fear: losing a child (I don't mean misplacing one)
I feel: lonely more often than anyone would think a mother of 8 would feel.
I hear: my husband snoring
I smell: everything. I'm like my mom that way. I can smell a poopy diaper the second I come within yards of the offending child. If Dennis has eaten something on the road, I can tell what it was. He knows he could never get away with cheating, 'cause I'd smell him out in a heartbeat.
I crave: something chocolate. Or cheesecake. But not chocolate cheesecake.
I search: for ways to improve the way our household and homeschool run. I also search for missing library cards, cheap food, that candy bar I thought I hid in the back of the cupboard, and Dennis' wallet/belt/very important paper/socks/flashlight/or anything-else-that-wasn't-really-my-responsibility.
I wonder: how babies can wake up so happy. Ivy is down-right giddy when I get her in the morning.
I regret: many, many things. Things I have said. Things I have done. Things I have left unsaid. Things I have left undone.
I love: watching my children play and learn together
I care: about the kind of men and women my kids will turn out to be. It seems my every parental move is dedicated to molding and shaping them. It's exhausting and difficult and wonderful all at the same time.
I am always: always always always always second-guessing myself.
I worry: that the arthritis in my hands at the age I am now will render my hands completely useless by the time I hit 40. I'm not joking.
I remember: my parents watching shows like Dallas and Alice.
I have: watched pretty much every episode of Friends. And Dallas. But I haven't watched one where the Friends were in Dallas. I'm quite certain they never went to Dallas.
I dance: when no one's looking. Great. Now you'll all be watching.
I sing: while rocking babies...at nursing homes...at church...in the shower......while hanging clothes on the line in the spring/summer/fall...I don't sing as much as I used to; I miss it. (My intended career was music education until God spoke to my heart and called me to be at home with my family.)
I don’t always: stick up for myself or say what I really think. This is both good and bad.
I argue: with my husband. Well, I'm not really arguing so much as explaining why I'm right.
I write: lists, lists, and lists. They are the only way I can possibly remember anything.
I lose: my temper
I wish: I didn't lose my temper.
I listen: to things that aren't said.
I don't understand: why people are so astonished to hear that I have 8 kids. I don't understand the really rude things people say--some people have no filter. I also don't understand why it takes forever to check out at Wal-Mart.
I can usually be found: at home.
I am scared: to talk on the phone with people. I make my kids call.
I need: new slippers. Oh--and a 15 passenger van.
I forget: to be joyful.
I am happy: -est: when I am at home: crocheting...reading...schooling...cooking...baking...cleaning...training...living...and loving.