Not just another manic monday.

Thank goodness!  You know, in all honesty, with all the horrible things happening, terrorists and sicko child abusers, and so much hate and apathy, obsession with Hollywood and the excess attitude of more, more, more I see all around me, the world seems kind of in a mess.  But I look for and try to note the good.  When I see something horrible, I acknowledge it happened, but I look for beauty because what good is feeling hopeless, depressed and afraid going to do anyone?  Um, no good.  So I feel weird being so chipper today, but here, I am, chipper.

I actually, factually woke up this morning and exercised, not just a short slow walk, a whole workout...which left me having a challenging time walking down the stairs for the first hour (much better now), and it totally got my happy chemicals going.  It has been a good morning.  I may have laid on Shawn's bed while he and Daphne played BBQ (yep, it's a thing) and lapsed in and out of wakefulness for 20 minutes from the sleep deprivation, but I was happy then, too.  Got some apples going in the oven as I do not yet own a food dehydrator, and Shawn, Daphne and I danced to Christmas carols and read books this morning.  I felt very lucky.  Sometimes I do not feel lucky trying to squish too much into too little some, so sufficeth it to say no house cleaning went on this morning, but I was very productive.  Honestly, I haven't seen Shawn so happy in weeks.  I had no idea he had that much joy in his little body, and it was good to see.  I think we just need to play and hang out a little more.

Yes, house (and husband), I promise, promise that the house will sparkle someday, just not for the next few years.

And, in other news because with me there is always other news, Enzo has finally accepted his comfy bed (as long as it has a pillow) after ignoring and poo-pooing it for over a week.  He is getting some serious comfort out of that thing which makes me happy because poor guy has had some kind of horrible itchy skin reaction (maybe because Daph tries to feed him ALL THE THINGS).

In conclusion, I hate evil and selfishness and darkness.  And it will not win in the end, so neener nanner, and, meanwhile, even though there are so many rotten people on earth, there are so many wonderful people who do amazing things every day, big and small.  I love watching, hearing about and being a recipient of those acts and, when I'm not being too inwardly focused (which happens when you are me trying to cope with life), being the one who does them, too.  Faith WILL defeat fear.  There is always light and truth to seek after.  And doing the right thing pays off in the end.  AND, you know, for the most part I have control of how things go down in this house, so our house will be a safe, peaceful and mostly happy place as long as I reside here (except when there is something new for dinner...that takes the smiles right off those sweet little faces).

I love this month!

I love Christmas.  It is so very, very true.  I've had plentiful Christmases in the gift department and Christmases where there wasn't a whole lot, and ever since I was little (and even very Santa obsessed), I felt the pull in my own heart to celebrate Christ's birth and all he has given us, especially amidst the commercial hoopla and hectic pace of the season.  I remember going off by myself on Christmas Eve to read the Christmas story to try to remember that even though my head was about to explode from anticipation the peace I felt as I read about Jesus's humble birth was the thing that really mattered.  This morning in Primary, as the children sang a song called Christmas Bells and I listened to their sweet voices, as I looked at a few beautiful paintings we have in our Primary room I was overcome with the spirit of the season and a lot of gratitude for my Redeemer.  He is Wonderful.  He is the Prince of Peace.  And I am so thankful for Him.  Merry Christmas!

Concert and Advent Calendar

Ah, the annual elementary school Christmas concert.  What was once torture when Lily started school and then became bearable though weird for the last several years has actually evolved into a good, traditional-feeling, but still brief (oh so important-attention span of a goldfish here), Christmas concert.  Fun to hear Ben singing Up on the Housetop just like I did when I was standing on risers in my own elementary school back in the day.  Ben was SOOO cute, doing his actions very enthusiastically and singing away (rare for my boys).  I totally let Matt get away with no concert this year.  I have heard all the songs before.  They seriously, even through 3 different music teachers in 6 years, have done the same songs for each grade (with a few variations), so I don't feel too bad, and Matt thought he was getting away with something...little did he know....I was instead.

Daph was fascinated with the seat bottoms that flipped up.  It was how she occupied most of her time, that and exchanging dirty looks with a young chap who was blowing raspberries at her.  She liked the clapping too.  I learned Matt is more of a conversationalist at a concert than a listener and observed...very educational though, bless him.

Then, because that NEED TO CREATE is always a-raging, I stayed up past 2, fell asleep plotting further creating and worked most of the morning to make and then clean up after this puppy:

Lucas brought mandatory advent calendars into our Christmas life.  YAYYY!  But I wanted something prettier with yummier tasting stuff inside, I guess.  It was fun but time consuming, and I love it.  I am certainly learning after every project I do I see immediately one thing I wish I had done differently, but naturally it is too late, but I am going to keep owning the imperfection and love the good parts.  Might as well.  That is life.

Growing, growing, huh?

You know how the older you get the more what your parents said (only parents who were actually trying.  I realize some people get loser parents) starts to make sense?  Like as I was getting all tall and my feet kept growing and my dad had to my more and more new shoes, he started to call me Big Foot.  I wasn't sure how to feel about it.  Was I a hideous freak?  Was my dad frustrated by all the expense of those shoes?  Did he think my feet were abnormal?  

I realized yesterday I have my own not so little Big Foot.  I am so tempted to call her Big Foot, but I don't want to hurt her feelings.  The reason I want to call her that is simply because the sheer nerve of her growing self just strikes me with awe.  How is it possible the little baby whose teeny feet I was taking pictures of 12 years ago now has size 11 feet.  What in the world?  That is my size.  Some women gasp in shock when you say your feet are that size.  And even now as I look at her feet, they look so much tinier than mine...it helps that she hasn't been walking on her feet for 35 years and carried 5 kiddos with that slight foot spread action that goes on, but still, size 11.  She doesn't look like it, but 10's are too small and so 11's it is.  And my bank account will be a little smaller, but we can't have her going around barefoot, so that's just how it's gonna be.

Hard Decision, Good Cause

No pictures today.  Gasp!  We have several fun holiday traditions, but we don't really have a tradition of service for our little (big) family.  I want to start something, something that will give us pause, help us to lift others up, and help us be thankful for our blessings.  I've thought of a bunch of different ideas but either meet dead ends or don't feel that it is a great fit.  I would like everyone down to 4-year-old Shawn to sort of get what is happening, at least a little.  I've thought of helping local resettled refugees, paying for someone's meal anonymously, entertaining/visiting with old folks, sponsoring a family long term.  Ack!  I don't know.  Still processing.  Still trying to feel which idea is right or hoping for a brilliant new idea.  We don't have oodles to spare, but we certainly have enough to share some love.

Norman! Norman!

I don't know how it is in most families, but in our family the ladies like their hair brushed.  Yes, we do.  My mom used to undergo all manner of little girl barrette torture to get her hair brushed.  I am ashamed to say most of the time when she asked me to brush her hair, I said no.  Bad daughter.  I always thought if she'd grow her hair long then I would brush it a lot, but she never did...until she was like 69...but now we don't live near each other.

Well, unlike me, ungrateful wretch that I was, some of my kids like to brush and especially style my hair.  Again, if you really like your hair brushed, you are none too picky.  Lily is a firm brusher but reasonably does well, especially since she knows what getting your hair ripped through feels like.  Ben?  Ben, Ben, Ben.  Let's just say I think I may know why Norman's mother was so demanding in Psycho.  Ouch!  Boys are violent brushers, at least boys who are not Fabio.  Ben is a sweet boy, but he twists and yanks and occasionally intentionally pulls out hairs to see if I'm paying attention.  To be fair, he is mostly sweet, asks if he is doing okay so as not to seriously injure me, and did this lovely number this morning:

He was a bit disappointed I didn't wear it to church.

Did I mention my kids also give massages?  It's a little like a circus performance but, as with the hair brushing, the good outweighs the bad, and I always, ALWAYS feel loved through it all, even though there is the occasional grimace on my face.

Little People

Most people have some sort of weird obsession.  One of mine is Little People play sets.  Now, being somewhat frugal I've never gone crazy.  Just one per kid approximately, but in my holiday cheer I FINALLY got the Nativity set.  I'm so happy.  Daph stayed highly entertained for over 30 minutes AND it was fun for the kids to use the characters as lily told the story of Jesus's birth,  WIN!  Pic tomorrow.

 

It's the Most Wonderful Time of the Year

For some people, for US this year more so than last year, it is a wonderful time of year.

And we bit the bullet, sob, tears, sniff, sniff, and got a FAKIE MCFAKERSON TREE.  It was time, I suppose.  It makes sense, and fake trees can hold plaster of Paris hand imprints that no real tree can.  But, sigh...it was time.  And a fake tree meant we put our tree up today, TODAY!  Well, tonight, but same difference.  Fruit dip, Christmas music, so many special ornaments and memories.  I am so thankful for the traditions brought into my life by Lucas's family, and I am so thankful for the excitement and togetherness and Dixie salad that was brought into my life by my family.  Our kids are pretty lucky because we LOVE Christmas.  It isn't super stressful round here, just fun and the balance of making sure we celebrate Jesus and not just all the get, get, gets (but they are so fun, too).

Before tree decorating, while Daddy was working, we had foot bath palooza.  Shawn liked pushing the buttons.  Daphne liked splashing, and Ben was just glad to finally get a foot bath after inquiring every few days for 2 weeks.

Stay thankful and enjoy this season, my people!

Thanksgiving Vignette

It was a wonderful day, with much laziness after our meal.  My husband is Master of Turkey.  He did this fancy brine which I was skeptical about but it was an amazing bird, AND he made our first homemade turkey gravy.  Nailed it!

Some random shots from today:

Made my parents' traditional cranberry sauce.  Growing up, I always tried a courtesy spoonful, but this year I went for it, making a teeny batch.  Pretty good as a classic.  The littles liked it.

Love Letters from Lucas

Don't worry.  It's not what it seems.  Don't get me wrong, in our premarriage life, I received enough love letters (and even a poem or 2) to make even a French mistress jealous.  Passion for me ran madly through my husband's veins.  Now I think you'd be more likely to find Coke, queso dip and especially something called SQL pumping through his body.  Gone is the chance of an Austenian romance for me...I blame familiarity; my husband blames it on having 5 kids, But all hope is not lost:

A few weeks ago I stepped into the shower, and what did I see?  A blob of hair off to the side, an unusual place for it and certainly not something I'd seen in the shower before.  I thought any hair lost from my head magically went down the plumbing or at least got caught in the drain.  No, this hair was different.  I soon realized that my dear husband had cleaned the drain of my hair and sat it to the side.  At first I thought, "Why can't he just throw it away?"  I certainly dispose of or clean up the less unseemly creations of ALL the members of this household time and again.  Surely he could take care of a few strands of hair.  Everybody sheds.  Then I realized this wasn't a subtle hint that I should clean my own hair out of the drain.  No, this was an act of unselfish love.  If he had thrown it away, I would have never known his true feelings for me.  Now when I see those blobs of hair (weekly now-I need more vitamins or a good short haircut stat), I picture how Lucas must lovingly think of me as he cleans the drain free of my luscious locks, how he gently sets the hair of his one true love to the side so that when she bumbles into the shower she can know, can see plain as day, that he was thinking of her that very morning.  I may not get love letters anymore, but my husband's thinking outside the box skills are through the roof.  Thanks Sweetheart!

Tired but Oh So Thankful

First off, I am a minimalist decorator.  A) not a lot of money to spend on decorating.  B) not a lot of time to spend on decorating.  C) children destroy deocrations.  (I know, I know, lots of ladies can do tons under these circumstances...not me).  I have been so overwhelmed that though I did get my Thanksgiving mantel up to put us in the mood that was about all.  I think the kids kind of missed our turkey who took a bit of a beating after last year's Thanksgiving.  I was just too tired to worry, but BLESS LILY.

 With her plethora of vacation time she found him and cut many, many feathers and got the kids excited to write on them and me excited to write on them.

 She even took it a step further and made a funny "story".  His name is Fatso.  The more thankful we are, the fatter he gets.

We are never too busy or too tired that we shouldn't be counting our blessings.  Thanks for the reminder, Kiddo!

Disaster

Yep - today was one of those...a disaster.

And to further prove that point, I totally wrote this last night and then apparently something happened between clicking publish and it actually publishing.  At least it was in my drafts...that will have to do.

Our Girls

Another me taking a cell phone pic of a pic kind of day, so bear with me...

This is what Daphne wore to church today:

 Were were waiting outside because Mommy only brought 1 extra diaper instead of 2, and Daddy was bringing a second diaper from home.  Daphne was as happy as she could be.

Oh, no!  Where did Daddy go?

He is gone.  I miss my Daddy so.

And then, we have from about 10 years ago Lily in the same dress.  They are definitely sisters, and with some facial expressions look like the same girl.  I am fascinated to see what they look like as grown women.  Definitely DIFFERENT personalities from day 1, however.

And because it's late and I'm tired, you totally get the added benefit of craning your head to the right to check out Miss Lily.  Consider it a stretch to ease all that tension you are carrying in your neck.

And now to the left....there you go...just a few more seconds.   Ahhhh.  Namaste.

Castle Zing

Welcome to the builds of the night.  Shawn's castle for his bear...

 The throne room of Matt and Ben's Castle Zing!

 The entrance to Castle Zing with royalty, archers, etc.  Yes, no matter how hard the battle at times, the best things happen w/o screen time.

Busy, Busy

It was a busy 24 hours (most of them are, who am I kidding?), but I did get to go to our nearby wetlands with the kids on my lunch break.  They love it!  Truthfully, Matt opts out if given the option because he is a home body, but he doesn't put up a fight and has fun once we get him out there if he isn't given the option.  It was cold but we were brave.

 Funny how they actually all went to look out over the scene and ended up in age/height order.  Something about my mother heart loves to see my little ducklings in a row like stair steps...gets me every time.

 Lily does a pretty good duck call which Miss D quite liked.  She copied Lily, "Quack, quack, quack!" in the deepest voice she could manage every time she saw a duck or goose.  Daph LOVES nature (my kid, right?), and even though she can't get used to walking on uneven surfaces just yet (city pavement and sidewalks and carpet and even lawns are all pretty even), she is full of joy and freedom as she tears around and teeters precariously near the edge of the trail.

See, exercise.  It's good for you and especially good for Mom who hates the windy cold but will venture out for the sake of exercising her children. :)

These little boys crack me up.  These are their superhero poses.  Ben thinks every time I bust out the camera he should be doing superhero poses.  Love it!

And lastly, though potentially silly (but I don't care), today is the 16th anniversary of Lucas and I deciding we were not just friends...there may have been a kiss involved, and so I made him the mother of all coconut cakes (halved the recipe though because we really don't need heart attacks for another 40 years) and seafood lasagna (don't judge, you seafood haters - it is divine).  Time intensive but that's what makes it special, I suppose.

Happy Friday!!!

Window Treatments and Potatoes

We bought our gold potatoes for Thanksgiving last night while at Costco.  This morning I found Ben on the kitchen floor hugging them and saying, "I love potato products!"  This from a boy who has acted for the last 3 years as if anything potato containing besides french fries was instant death.  Progress.  I'll take it!

 And my less than stellar but reasonably functioning Roman shades!  When I selected fabric, I said geometric pattern, stylish, geometric pattern, stylish...but old Marianne won.  So be it.  I can use geometric patterns for the future couch pillows...maybe some yellow/cream chevron and some blue geometric getup to tie it all together???

 Down

And close up

And open, because I am A LOVER OF LIGHT.  It took 3 years, but now when I am up early or late I can hang out in the front room and not disturb anyone else in the house.  Wheee!

H'oh Boy!

I think I just had my first Costco date.  It beats no date at all, and the pizza was good, AND we didn't by a 12 foot Christmas tree.  The conversation was quite nice too, if a bit disjointed, and, wow, the toys and books!  I never go in that section, but it could make for a fun Christmas for the kids.

Meanwhile, back at the farm, the little stinker (the one on the left) who tantrumed for me all day and was not her absolute sweetest, the very one who normally gives me more sugar than anybody else, was cuddling with her big sis and having a marvelous time.

Oh, Man!

I procrastinated all of my important goals until near midnight after a hardworking couple of days trying to make some DIY Roman shades.  Thus, this is my post for today, but I did write...and will post pics, be the project every so humble, tomorrow.

Nightmare on Our Street

That title is full of hype because actually this is about just a little incident that happened in our house today.  It involved a lot of blood, let me tell you.  I am making faux Roman shades for our front windows, and for probably the second time ever I left my rotary cutter blade out.  Stupid.  I was downstairs ironing and Daph came to visit me.  She was pointing at our cat, and then she came over to me and showed me her hand...her very bloody hand.

No tears, no major concern on her part, but on my part, mucho concern.  We followed the bloody trail she had left on the laundry cabinets, a drip on each and every stair and then a nice big area in our dining room and onto the table, where Mom had left her rotary cutter in the middle.  I grabbed a cloth and squeezed her hand in it to hopefully stop the bleeding, and then the phone rang.  I'm so weird about the phone, so I picked up, holding my calm bleeding baby and talked to Matt's piano teacher for a few minutes, keeping the little cute hand above the little cute head.  Then we patched her up.  She ripped them off.  We patched her up again.  She ripped them off, and now we are down to 1 little Band-Aid which I'm hoping she'll leave on overnight.  She is my most get-into-things kid, probably because I am distracted a whole lot more by the 5th kid.  I definitely could not keep 10 kids safe and alive.  Nope.  But so far I am doing fair to above average, at least, I'd say for these 5.  We've been getting a few more mock angry faces and a definite need for more mom cuddling this afternoon and tonight, but I am so thankful because it could have been a lot worse.

When I Grow Up...

Women's libbers beware because the following images may will be unsettling:

 I LOVE the picture below.  I look so haggard, plain and drab in my mousy gray dress, but I am definitely SMILING.  Many days actually are like that (minus the fact I've never owned an ugly gray dress), so at least little Marianne was keeping it real.

What more can I say?  This is from an All About Me Book which we made in 2nd grade.  Oh how I loved and admired the beautiful Mrs. McAdams!  My 8-year-old heart wanted to be part of a big happy family when I grew up, more than anything else.  As I got a little older, teachers (and me) encouraged me to come up with other options because housewife (yikes!) wasn't actually factually a career option.  I strongly favored artist and author for a few years.  Then I got really serious about school; realized boys were no good/untrustworthy/smelly/fickle (sorry, Sweetie and sons, but...).  At that point, I would ask my dad and mom to let me go to career fairs, and I just really wanted to figure out what I should be when I grew up.  Ha!  Like any of us really, REALLY figure that out for a long time...most of us, at least.

Fast forward several years and here I am, "married and have children."  I'm not sure what I found appealing about being a housewife back then, but the part I struggle with now is housekeeping...with 5 cleanliness irresponsible (hey, that's a thing) children...a full time job (which FYI is not my dream - I can never think of it as my career even though I'm going on 12 years of it)...constant tiredness, and, oh yeah, the rest of life.  I am trying very hard to teach my children cleaning tasks and schedules and organization because it is definitely something I had to pick up along the way on my own and am still trying to figure out.  They balk at any such far-fetched ideas, but I'm not giving up.  Disorganization and dirtiness bite, despite what they may think.  I have tried so many different cleaning ideas/routines from Pinterest.  I have learned only a few things that really, really work for me, but no one who spouts off all these brilliant lists and plans and ideas has my exact same situation, so onward goes my search for something that works.

I won't give up.  A clean house, organization, art, craft, fun, it changes the whole mood of a house.  It is the difference between cranky, frustrated moms and dads, family-wide Lego injuries, and all sorts of unpleasantness (not to mention the humiliation when guests surprise you) OR getting that inexplicable energy, positive spirit and joy that comes from knowing where everything is, loving how it looks and wanting to invite people into your home to enjoy all those good feelings with you.  Elusive, but I have to faith, like with everything else, I will get where I need to be, slower than I want to get there, but I will get there.  And maybe then that poor little housewife pictured above will get healthier looking eyes and a new outfit and rock this house with her dazzling smile!

The Saturday After Friday the 13th

First, I have to share what Matt did earlier this week with the groceries I hadn't put away yet.  I love how he did it so symmetrically.  

On this morning's walk, I was enjoying the last hanging on of the greenery of summer.  Those weeping willows are fighters, I tell you.  It was good to be out way earlier than I normally go on Saturday.

 The sunlight was catching the colors in this tree so beautifully against the blue sky.

 I was struck by these prickly pears this morning.  I think that is maybe the fruit of the plant.  In November?  I apparently don't know much about prickly pear cacti.  We had little ones on our farm while growing up, in the lava fields, etc.  Someday, I will have to try some prickly pear...but not from some person's lawn.  It was weird enough I squatted there and took this picture, right?

It's a Great Day to Be Alive...and other Travis Tritt thoughts

Ok, really I have no Travis Tritt thoughts.  I am just feeling unusually happy for a Friday morning which is the second ugliest day of the week for me currently.  It is a good day to be alive.  Fall is attempting to careen into winter temperatures, but there are still lots of beautiful leaves.  I will say, though, Travis did have a good point of being grateful for the simple things.  Oh, how I miss the (what is now) old school country music about family and true love and hard work.  From what I hear during the ONLY time I listen to country music, which would be when I am road tripping solo, country music now is about beer...lots and lots of partying it up on the weekend with beer...and brainless, unbelievably hot, desperate for love girls.  Not my cup of tea (see that, tea...NOT BEER). 

 Any who, moving on, Lily had pulled out her 5th grade pictures to use one on her author page in a book she has made for English class which she gets to have published in color.  Lily has a long and colorful school picture history, but her dad and I think this one is adorable (yep, I took a picture of the picture).  It blows my mind how she has increased in height and mass (that word makes it sound like its a bad thing but, really, completely normal, these growth spurts) about 25% since last year.  I am still holding out for a 6 footer.  She isn't insecure about her height at all, so I think she wouldn't mind either, but clothing her, sheesh, if she or I was stuck on name brands, we would be in debtor's prison.  She had such a rough start to the school, and now she has a few good friends at school, loves YW, and is entering every writing or art contest she hears about.  She isn't overly obsessed with A's, like at all, so sad are her parents about that, but she does relatively well, and it is a relief because, wow, it was not looking so good a couple months ago.  She is so beautiful and so helpful (but oh the attitude or not listening at times - sad but to be expected).  She is still shocked quite often at names she gets called or hears at school and disturbing/crude vocabulary she learns, but I try to just explain facts and point out the moronic and/or uneducated natures of some adolescence who are trying to look cool or fit in or don't get all the information and support they need from home.  Just be kind to people, have integrity always, leave a situation when you feel uncomfortable and make/keep good friends.

Sad preschool story time.  The good news is Shawn appeared to have cared less, but:  It was our turn to take snack yesterday to his second preschool.  Yes, that's right, we signed him up for regular preschool, but the school district decided that not only did he qualify for speech but that he should come his 1 day off from preschool to the school district preschool.  Thus, we had to get the snack and he was able to share things from around the house that start with the letter T.  I was so proud since we only go once a week that I remembered his folder, his snack, AND his share items.  The problem is we packed a tow truck, train, triangle, and some other T toy.  When I asked how it went once we got home, he said, "No toys allowed at school, Mom, so I couldn't share."  Again, he wasn't busted up, but I felt bad that the 1 time he actually gets to have a special day (as once a week means it will probably be once every couple months for him) I didn't happen to have read the school handbook.  Weird how different school in the same district have such different rules, and it's not like he was going to take them out and brag or distract.  It would be a little alphabet discussion and then back in the bag they go but whatever.

 

Lastly, and randomly, because it is ME we're talking about here, weird commercials.  I see hardly any commercials because A) no TV, B) no time but I did see the following 2:

On Youtube I saw the weirdest Hoover cordless running of the bulls commercial because if a bull was tearing through my house you bet I'd be vacuuming up after every little mess he'd make as he was nearly plowing me over.  Yep.  Then, while Lucas and I were dining at SubZero last night (I use the term dining loosely, though we did get the Medium size which is really big), we saw one of those As Seen on TV commercials on the TV there for some kind of automatic nail trimmer with light and push button and safe/nondangerous.  Wow, it was weird, the product a little but the actual commercial/actors in it - B I Z A R R E

It IS a GREAT DAY TO BE ALIVE!

Sometimes Life Is Just Too Funny...

Like last night when Ben came marching proudly up the stairs in a puppy dog Halloween costume from when he was 2.  Hoh boy!  Then he and Shawn just went crazy with digging out old, mostly abnormally small, Halloween costumes, and, Ben, especially, was going for the multilayered look.  At one point, he was up to being a puppy firefighter cowboy ninja jedi...because that's a thing, at least at our house.

We have an official family photobomber (Ben), and he takes his self-appointed duty very seriously.  He is a master!

Below pic is blurry but, oh my goodness, Shawn's face!!!  FYI, he is holding the "banana" which was originally sewn onto the monkey costume from when he was a 1 year old, which, sadly, we couldn't squeeze him into, but we totally tried and tried.  The elephant wedgie was bad enough.  A monkey one?  Hey, even we have boundaries!