Ankle Biters

Sometimes I'm so caught up in living life that it's hard to step away and observe anything of note to blog about. Of course, that usually means that my brain is just overly-occupied with something else and I can't spare brain cells to compose a sentence, much less an entire post, worthy of my last few remaining readers since I've password-protected the blog. 
I should have lots to say because, in fact, much is brewing at the Domino house. We're just not ready to share it with everyone yet. (No, I'm not pregnant.) But it's exciting and life-changing for all four of us! Someday it will be the topic of many, many posts.

For now, I'll write about... ants.

Last Friday I bought more groceries than I've ever bought in my life. (Stay with me, the ant part is coming.) I mean I bought a TON of food. My basket was so full that I was embarrassed as I pulled up to the checkout.

So, by the time I pull into the driveway with my 304 shopping bags, Caleb is crying for a bottle and Micah is begging, begging, to go outside and play. They are both exhausted from such a long trip to the store. So I scramble to unload all the cold and frozen ingredients from the bags to put them away before they melt. Micah is standing at the back door practically swinging on the door knob as he pleads to be let out onto the wet grass. I hurriedly pull together a bottle for Caleb and on my way to release said screaming baby from his carseat, I swing by the backdoor, unlock it, and shoo my toddler outside.

Just as I unhook Caleb from his carseat I hear screams from the backyard. I can see Micah out the backdoor and he's standing directly in the middle of a huge antbed. I lie Caleb down on the rug on the kitchen floor and bound outside to scoop Micah up. His feet were already covered by those big black ants (he'd been wearing sandals, not tennis shoes). By the time I brushed them off, carried him inside, and inspected every inch of him for more biters, his feet and ankles were covered in pussy, blistering bites. His left foot had so many bites that it was swollen for the first 24 hours. (I'm itching now just writing it.)

It was the saddest little thing to see. And, until this morning, I heard all day, "My antbeds still huuurt." (He gets 'antbeds' and 'ant bites' mixed up.) Since he couldn't put shoes or socks on without screaming, he spent all weekend inside and we missed church yesterday, too. It still breaks my heart to see his red, puffy feet. But it was nice to hear him pray for his bites every night. Of course, he prays for just about anything these days. Terry said that a few days ago he prayed, "Jesus, (which sounds more like 'Gheedus') help me find more choo-choos. Amen."