The marriage bed is holy, and undefiled

Shopping for a mattress is a completely appropriate thing to do with a man one is about to marry.
When Cathy and Asia were here this weekend, they recommended a mattress made of that heavy memory foam stuff. These things are too heavy to lift, and too expensive to afford, and I totally want one.
Last night, Tim and I went to the local furniture store to test drive mattresses. He would fling his body in the air, and land on a mattress with a bounce, before thrashing about to assess the firmness, and support, of the article in question. Then, he'd editorialize, get up, and go do the same thing on the next bed in the line.
I was vastly amused. As was the salesman, come to think of it. He followed us at a less-than-discreet distance, no doubt wondering where this grown man got so much energy for leaping from bed to bed.
Tim wants a firm surface. By "firm" I mean that he wants to sleep on concrete. Me? I'm more genteel. I prefer to sink into a cloud to pursue my REM.
There was one mattress that was hard on one half, and soft on the other. Which is not a bad idea. But, I'd really like to provide him some incentive to visit my side now and again. I'm just sayin'.
The memory-foam thing was wonderful. It's one of those that you can drop a bowling ball on, and the thing doesn't shimmy. This provided no little challenge to Tim, who did his leaping thing several times, to see if he'd bounce. He didn't.
Tim asked me, as we lay there on the bed, (in a public room with a salesman watching), if I liked the bed. I told him that I thought I actually loved it, and that I pretty much would like to marry it. Or at least to sleep with it. Which I thought was downright hysterical. The salesman didn't even crack a smile; I hate it when people don't get my jokes.

My big goal for the day is to pretty up Michael's records of scholastic achievements. It's like revising a resume. I have to put together this impressive dossier on his years of home education, so he looks like an advanced and motivated learner, worthy of the program he's applying for. Basically, I have a snow job to pull off. All those chores he does? Home economics, baby. Listening to the radio? Musical appreciation. Bedtime stories? Comparative World Literature. Camping and hunting just became forestry and zoology. When I am done with this portfolio, they're gonna offer me a teaching job.
I watched an introductory video for this school, and I totally want to attend it myself. It's part of the International Baccalaureate program, whatever that means. I think it means that he'll have a lot of homework. Michael, the jock-turned-intellect is very enthusiastic at the thought of going to school. Don is thrilled to death at the prospect of being the only child at home.
It's funny to me to watch the way this seems to be evolving all at the hand of God. I can really get a glimpse of how this would ease the transition to our new and improved family, for each of the kids. Don will likely need more of my attention for a while, and this would certainly meet that. Michael is needing more Independence. Tim and I will need some time to ourselves. His two kids will be in school full time this year, but Faline will be home educated the following year. Aaron will finish out elementary school, and then we'll figure out what is best for him.
I am going to have 4 kids, and 3 of them will be in public school. Clearly God has a sense of humor.