What The...?

If you have children, then you've had those moments. Those times when you come across something in your house and all that comes to mind is, "What the _____?" Sometimes, you sigh, shrug your shoulders and ask "Why?" But I don't recommend that you ask why. Unless you want the explanation, which is only slightly more frustrating than whatever you are sighing over in the first place.

Over the past few days, I decided to document a few of these moments.

I like to call this one Balls in a Toilet.

I know what this is. It's a picture of Max (of Max and Ruby fame) printed from the computer. But what's with all the tape? Who said they could use the tape anyway? Or print? And why is it just randomly affixed to a wall no one looks at?

I like this one. It's the Cowardly Lion driving Dora's van. Well, technically he's not driving. He's in the passenger seat. He's probably waiting for the Tin Man to finish his weekly greasing at Jiffy Lube. Or he's sleeping one off, knowing he's a prime target for DUI if he passes out in the driver's seat.

I think this speaks for itself. Unless you think someone spilled a drink on the couch. They didn't.

I made the mistake of asking 'why' on this one. The answer? "I am thirsty."

Told you - NEVER ask why.

Enjoy...there will be lots more where these came from!

Up Shit Creek

Sorry for the crude title, but that's how I feel right now. I wasn't going to bore you with the gory details, but then I decided that, if only one person felt sorry for me, then it would all be worth it. And hey, it's my page anyway and if I can't vent here, where can I?
On with the show...
Today, I went to a friend's to help her out with babysitting. She keeps three kids in her home. They are 3, 2 and tiny. I've done it before and it's really not a big deal. The busiest time is lunchtime and even that isn't much more hectic than lunchtime at my own home. Plus, I can always use an extra buck or two, so sometimes I look forward to her asking me to help.
I regret ever thinking that after today.
All was going well until after lunchtime. That would be nap time. The baby and the 2 year old went down with no trouble. The three year old was a different story. First, he stalled on going potty. I finally had to carry him in there and stand by the door and told him he couldn't come out until he went. I have no idea if he really did go, but he flushed the potty and came out and told me he went. I took him into the room where he naps and laid him down. He told me no. I said yes. I told him not to get up and then I left, shutting the door behind me. A few minutes later, I heard banging. I went in and he was jumping on the bed. Again, I told him to lay down. He did. I left.
Meanwhile, Rhett was smelling sorta ripe, so I changed him. Very poopy diaper. While I was changing him, I heard Mr. No Nap banging around again. I checked on him. He was upside down in the bed, with all the covers all over the floor. I reminded him of the rules and walked out. As I stepped out into the hall I thought "Hmmm, it sure smells a lot better out here in the hall than it did in that room." Not wanting to even imagine what the smell in that room was, I kept going. But then guilt overtook me and I went back.
This time, the smell hit me like a ton of bricks. The only smell that actually becomes an entity the longer it sits. Poop. On a 3 year old child who is not my own. Dammit. Dammitdammitdammitdammit. I did NOT want to clean it up. I said "Joe (not his real name), are you poopy?" He looked at me with a smug grin and said "Yep." And then I walked toward him. It was EVERYWHERE. On the sheets, on the WALLS, all up and down his legs. I didn't know what to do. I stripped him, bagged the t-shirt and shorts, rinsed the undies out in the toilet and then threw them in the trash. I put him in the shower, squirted two huge handfuls of soap into his hands and said "Scrub everything you can reach." I don't really know how people feel about other people giving their children baths and showers, so I just decided to play it safe and let him do it. I left him in there for at least 1o minutes while I scrubbed the walls, the bathroom floor, the toilet and put the sheets in the wash.
I went back in when I felt like, even if he hadn't scrubbed all the necessary parts, the water had to have washed him clean.
I got him out, dried him off, dressed him in his spare clothes and said, "I know you thought that, by pooping in your pants, you would get out of napping, but I don't work that way. You are going back. And if you get out of that bed, I'm calling your mom."
I'm not proud that I said it in a 3rd grade "nah, nah, nah, nah, nah" tone, or that I resorted to tattling, but I wasn't feeling too kind at that moment.
He never came out again. It's a good thing too, because I don't know his mom's number.
Anyway...I went back out to the living room to scrub my hands and arms with hot water and to check on my own children. I felt as though poop was emanating from my pores. I could smell it everywhere. I sat down, trying to relax. The smell would NOT go away. I picked Rhett up. The smell was worse. Poopy again? Diaper check. No poop. Have I got poop on my face? Mirror check. No. Where could it be coming from??????
I look down. It's on Rhett's hands. And the sofa. Apparently, when I changed him, he got his hands in it and I didn't notice, because I was so busy thinking of a punishment for Mr. No Nap Shitpants. Thankfully, it seemed only to be on his hands and the sofa, which is leather. It wasn't so bad. But what are the odds of two poopy accidents in one day? I guess with 5 kids and me, it's probably something like 2 to 1. Oh well...you know what they say. Shit happens.
(You know I had to say it.)

Big Tuna is ONE!

My husband calls Rhett "Big Tuna." It came from the show, "The Office" and I think it's totally fitting. Who cares what it means? It fits. I mean, look at him...he's so Big Tuna.

It's hard for me to believe it's been an entire year since I first saw this face:

What a great, exciting, adventurous year it's been. Happy Birthday, Baby Boy!

Stealing Cinderella (Post 2)

Good Lord, have you heard this song? Stealing Cinderella, by Chuck Wilkins (I think). I had heard the chorus, but never knew what it said. A couple of weeks ago, one of my friends told me I had to listen to it. I finally got around to downloading it to my iPod. I was in the middle of a jog when it came on. I had to stop and walk while I cried. Seriously. I was sobbing. Tears, shaking shoulders, the sucking, gasping breath. It was RIDICULOUS. But how can you have two baby girls and listen to that song without crying? For those of you who haven't heard it, here is just a sampling of what you will hear. The premise behind the song is about a guy coming to ask a father for the daughter's hand in marriage...while he's there, he notices pictures of the daughter on a shelf. It says something like this:

Playing Cinderella, riding her first bike.

Jumping on the bed, looking for a pillow fight.

In her mind, I'm Prince Charming

But to him I'm just some fella.

Riding in, stealing Cinderella.

SOB. GASP. SOB. I added insult to injury by coming home and looking for some pictures of my baby girls.

Who do I talk to about stopping time? Just for 20 or 30 years!?! WAAAAAAAAAAAA!

Diary of a Bad Mommy (Volume 7)

My girls argue. A lot. Like, 472 times a day. Really. They also play-fight and wrestle a lot. I have told them time and time again, I will not referee any fights or arguments, real or pretend. I usually stick to it unless there is real violence or harsh language (you know..stupid, shut up, fart, etc)

The other night, they were wrestling and giggling. All was fun and games until Avery started to cry. I didn't even flinch. I said "I'm not getting in the middle of this. I told you not to play too rough." She kept crying.

Side note: Avery is tougher than a boot. She could seriously fall and skin her face on the sidewalk and jump up as if nothing happened. But if Reese so much as looks at her cross-eyed, she goes into full-blown hysterics, as if someone has just ripped her arm off. This is why I wasn't more affected by her tears. It's a 10-time-a-day occurrence.

I was insistent that I not be put in the middle of this. I told them they needed to take a break from each other and sit down for a bit. Avery finally stopped crying. She walked over to me to ask me a question and I noticed something funny on her face. It looked like chocolate. Only more of a rusty color. "Avery, what's on your face?" I ask. "I don't know, Mom...just nothing." She responds.

And then she turns her head. And this is what I see. (Warning...if you are squeamish, you may want to look away from the computer.)

I gasped. "OH MY GOD (they aren't allowed to say this, so it had great affect on Avery), YOU ARE BLEEDING!" So much for staying calm in a crisis. Avery starts to panic and cry again. She wants to see it, but can't, which makes her panic even more. I took a picture so she could see (not just to show you people) and that made it worse. It was a tragic scene, to be sure. And here I sat, all guilty and sheepish, because I hadn't responded when she cried earlier.

Apparently, Reese had been holding the phone in her hand while they were wrestling and accidentally hit Avery in the head. It was barely a nick, but man, those head injuries can bleed. When I finally convinced Avery to let me wash it all off, it wasn't even noticeable. I still feel guilty. But Avery LOVES to look at this picture and show it to all our friends. We look at it almost daily. It's her badge of honor. And yet another badge of poor mothering on my part.

P.S. Reese hit her head yesterday and asked me to take a picture of it so she could see. I could barely stop laughing long enough to take it. She was disappointed. She said "Momma, where's my boo-boo?" I love that kid.

I'm Sorry

No, I'm not sorry. What do I have to be sorry for? Ok, probably lots of things, actually, but that's not the reason for my post.
I was watching a Dr. Phil episode yesterday afternoon...maybe it wasn't yesterday's episode, maybe it was. I have a bunch recorded and just watch them willy nilly whenever I feel like it. Ok, so, whatever date it originally aired, as usual, there were some people feuding. Not just arguing, but feuding -I'm not sure what the difference is. Ask Dr. Phil.
Anyway, what I learned from yesterday's show were two things I've always suspected, but was thrilled to have confirmed by Dr. Phil. And as we all know, if Dr. Phil said it, it must be true. (I kid. Sort of.)
The two things I learned are this: Admitting you're wrong, especially after a long period of time has passed, is one of the hardest things in the world for a person to do; and there is a right way and a wrong way to say I'm sorry. Dr. Phil outlined it a bit yesterday, so I thought I'd share...I know none of you want to be going around making inappropriate apologies. And you know you've gotten some. You know the ones....the words "I'm sorry" did come out of the person's mouth, but with every fiber of your being, you know they didn't mean it. And if they had the nerve they would have probably said "I'm sorry....sorry that you are such a turdface that you are forcing me to apologize."
So here we go with some examples...if you don't like it, see Dr. Phil. This is his area of expertise, I'm just the messenger.

Right way: I'm so sorry I hurt you. I feel so bad. Wrong way: I'm sorry you were hurt.
Right way: I never meant to upset you. I'm sorry. Wrong way: I'm sorry you took it the wrong way.
Right way: I was wrong. I'm sorry. Wrong way: I don't know what I did to make you so upset, but I'm sorry you are upset.
Right way: I'm sorry Wrong way: Well, soooorrrrry (in a sing song voice like when you were 12...Dr. Phil didn't say this one, but I thought it was important to mention.)

What was so funny to me, watching yesterday's show, was how hard it was for some people to get. This lady kept saying "I'm sorry...I still don't think I did anything wrong, but I'll say I'm sorry if that's what it will take to make this all go away." She never got it. Some people never do.

Ok, so this was a weird post, I admit. I just had to clarify a few things. And if it makes any of your lives easier, all the better.

The Beauty Shop

I had an appointment yesterday for highlights and a haircut. Normally, I look forward to this time as "me time." Two full hours of nothing but gossip and magazines. I love it. But because I'm such a wonderful, loving wife, I decided to take pity on my poor husband and, instead of leaving him with all three children, I took one with me. I took Reese because, as the middle child, she never gets to be the one. I never spend any alone time with her and I thought this was a great time for us to have some mother-daughter bonding. I made her promise that she would be on her best behavior the entire time. I threatened that I would bring her home if she whined, threw fits, or didn't mind me. We filled her "pack-pack" with books, DVD's and the DVD player, and we were off. We stopped and got snacks on the way. She was ready. Here she is, settling into the chair next to mine.


After changing her mind 412 times about which movie to watch, she decided on Dora. No, make that Word World. No, Monsters Inc. No, Dora is good. Ok, we're watching Dora. I expected to have at least 30 minutes of peace as Betty went to work foiling my hair. Reese had all the expected questions at first. "What is she doing in your hair, Momma?" "What is that stuff?" "It's bee-custy!" Then, she changed her mind about movies. And dropped the DVD player on the floor. And nearly sent poor Betty flying across the floor, trying to catch the DVD player before it hit the ground. She missed. I
I took the DVD player away and told her she had to sit and read books. She read all three in about 15 seconds. And she was bored. I had to keep getting up and picking things up off of the floor, which made the foil take an hour instead of the usual 30 minutes.
Then it was time for me to sit under the dryer. It was quiet over in the corner, and I set Reese up next to me with Dora again. She was happy. For three minutes until the battery died in the DVD player.
I turned off the dryer, got up, went out into the store part of the salon and picked out some nail polish. I then went back to the dryer, turned it on, and gave Reese a mani-pedi. That took care of 4 minutes. She spun in circles in front of me, drying her nails, for a while. A good song came on the radio and she danced for all the salon patrons, making some smile and some look at her like "Why is that child at the salon? Can't her mother find a babysitter for one hour?" No, her mother can't.
I handed Reese the bag of chocolate covered pretzels and let her go to work. This kept her busy for a while. I also realized that removing her shoes and telling her to put them back on wastes alot of time, too.
Somehow, we made it. I was in the chair, ready for a haircut when Reese had to go potty for the 27th time. I don't know how the other people felt about her going in there, but I found it quite hilarious that she would go in, sit on the potty forever, yelling that she was "going tee-tee!" or "I going poopy!" She would yell at me that she was done, I would go in and she would tell me she wanted to be by herself. It was probably very aggravating to Betty, who just wanted to cut my hair and get me out of there, but I did get a giggle out of her.
The final straw was halfway through my blow dry. Reese was, as usual, on the potty yelling. The yelling stops and I hear the potty flush. Assuming she was done, Betty and I, as well as the 5 other people near us, turn to make sure she's coming out ok. Oh, she came out. Nude. She was holding her panties, which were full of skids, and saying "Momma, deez yucky. I don't like 'em!"
I feel certain that the next time I go in there (without children) there will be a sign on the wall. PLEASE DO NOT BRING CHILDREN INTO SALON.

Look-A-Likes

Have you ever thought about which celebrity you might look like? I don't really think about it much for myself. My friend Erin catapulted to the top of my friend list when she said I reminded her of Charlize Theron. She may have been drunk at the time, but I'll take it any way I can get it!

Anyway, back to the subject at hand. Look-Alikes. More specifically, my kids and their look-alikes. Once, in a grocery store, a lady commented on Avery's pale skin, curly hair and blue eyes and said that she looked like Nicole Kidman as a child. What do you think?

I think if Avery ever let me dress her like a girl (this was for her Pa Pa's wedding and she'll do anything for her Pa Pa), I might see the resemblance. I doubt I would have thought of it if someone hadn't mentioned it, but I can see it. Sort of.

A few days ago, someone was commenting on Reese's "adorable face" and "pixie cut" and suggested that she looks like Suri Cruise.

The coloring and the haircut, maybe, but check this out.

I think this one is dead on:

Have a great week! :)

Boot Camp

I started a boot camp two weeks ago in order to jump start what is sure to be my journey toward a smokin' body. (In truth, I'd just like to be able to button some of my fat pants.) I go three times a week and every single time I go, Avery asks if she can go. Then, Friday afternoon, in her snottiest why do you get to do everything and I don't get to do anything? voice, she said "Why do you always like to go to boot camp and we don't get to do it?" Reese chimes in "I want to do boot camp." So we did boot camp. In the backyard. I set up stations and taught them the exercises. They actually did pretty good at paying attention - for the first 5 or 6 minutes. Then they went back to arguing over the swings, but not before I was able to snap a picture of their amazing strength and physical fitness.





If Reese doing situps in her underwear doesn't make you grin, then you just aren't trying!

The Kid Can Eat

My baby boy, Rhett can eat. He's always been that way. I can remember once when we had friends over and I mixed his bowl of cereal, she was like "Oh my gosh, is he going to eat all that?" He did. And wailed when it was finished. He's over the cereal stage. In fact, he eats regular people food all the time now. He doesn't even take a bottle. But he still eats like a champ.

Here is his breakfast tray. I used to put little bits at a time, but got sick of running back and forth, so now I just round it off.

For those of you who are worried that I'm overfeeding the child, here he is when he realizes he's almost finished.

It's funny now, but can you imagine our food bill when he's in high school? Don't mention that to my husband...he'll develop an ulcer.

Heidi Klum

I love Heidi Klum. Not LOVE, love, but you know. Not because she's beautiful (I usually hate people for that reason), but because she seems really sincere, funny, laid back, and happy. I like that in a person. I'm not sure I understand the attraction to Seal, but hey, to each his own, right?
Anyway, as you may or may not be aware, Heidi has come out with her own skincare line. I saw her promoting it on Ellen one day and she was so excited about it, I thought I would try it.
I just got it in the mail last week...and guess what? I've been using it for a week, and while I do think some of the products are good, I don't look any more like Heidi Klum than I did the last week. I also developed a new zit. It goes really well with all the others I've developed in the last few years. Not to mention my new glasses.
Speaking of the new glasses. I picked them up at the mall yesterday. When we got home, I put them on and Avery died laughing. She said "Oh, Mom, those are really hilarious!" I said, "Why are you laughing at me?" She said "Uh, Mom, don't you remember? We laughed at you in the store too. They are really funny." (NOTE: This is true. When I tried on the first pair of glasses, Reese started belly laughing really loud, as if I were the most hilarious person on earth. That does alot for the ol' self esteem, let me tell you.)
I don't have a prayer. Dangit.

Diary of a Bad Mommy (Volume 6)

I feel like such a loser this morning. I didn't hear my alarm and overslept. When the phone ringing finally woke me up, it was 15 minutes before I was supposed to be in the car, taking Avery to school. All three kids were still asleep, I hadn't made her lunch, gotten anyone dressed. We could have eaten breakfast in the car (loser Mom, I know), but how in the world could I get us all dressed and ready in 15 minutes? I ran around in circles like a chicken with my head cut off, called a friend for moral support, and then gave up. I called the school and told them the truth. I'm a loser who overslept. They were very nice. They said it happens all the time, but that truthfully doesn't make me feel any better.
So, Avery is staying home today. I promise to read with her and teach her at least one thing today. I should be well-rested enough to teach her how to diagram sentences.

P.S. I just realized I accidentally stole a $10 item from Wal Mart last night. I am SUCH a loser.

Take Me Out to the Ballgame

In case you hadn't noticed (or in case anyone actually had), I haven't been online much lately. It's not because I haven't thought about it. It's not because I didn't have anything to say. No, it's because I have headaches. And nausea. Unexplained, horrible headaches which lead to miserable nausea. My thyroid doctor told me to see a neurologist, but because that scares the bejeezus out of me, I've decided to diagnose myself. First, I started with minimizing my time on the computer. That seemed to help, but didn't fix the problem. So I went to the eye doctor Friday and he actually laughed when he examined my eyes. Apparently, my eyes are very imbalanced. He said "The muscles in one eye are working overtime to keep up with this eye." I immediately, almost shouting, asked "I don't have to wear an eye patch do I?" Thankfully, he said no. I just need some glasses. So much for the Lasik surgery I had 9 years ago. I would, however, prefer glasses to a brain tumor. So, I'll wear them. And gripe.

Anyway, I don't have the glasses yet, but since I'm pretty sure my problems are my eyes and not a tumor, I'm back in action. Pain and misery be damned. Actually, we just had a really great time at the Rangers game yesterday and I have, what I think, are some cute pictures I wanted to share. So, enjoy!

Here is our whole family, before the game. Aaron and I are both mortified at our double chins. Between the both of us, there are four chins. It's horrifying. Embarrassing. Motivation to keep up with this boot camp/torture I just signed up for. Just look at our children though. Totally worth it.

We had awesome seats, thanks to our good friends who gave us the tickets. Plus, it was an overcast day, so not many people came to the game. We had lots of room to spread out, which was great. Rhett and Reese got to watch the action up close.

Avery, of course, took it all very seriously. The game and the junk food.

I love this one. Aaaron bought them all these $5 mini-replica bats. Avery used hers to practice swinging when the guys were batting. Reese used hers for.....well, I don't know what she's using it for. I do know that she's holding it at the wrong end.

Reese's favorite part of the whole day was, by far, the peanuts. Aaron and I shelled so many peanuts, I'm surprised our fingertips aren't raw. She went nuts. Ha ha. Nuts. Get it? Peanuts? Nuts? Ok sorry, on to the picture.

Happy Monday!

Spare Toilet?

So what do you do with the cracked toilet after you remove it from your bathroom? It doesn't fit in the garbage can. I have no clue where there is a dump anywhere. For now, we have it sitting in the garage. Something tells me we are going to have to move it. Soon.






Yes, she really did it. What else could we say except, "Good for you?" That's all you can say when a potty-training 2-year-old actually uses a potty instead of her pants, the floor or the bed.

Exhaustion

I'm exhausted. Normally, I'm not one who requires a ton of sleep, but lately, it's gotten out of hand. Sunday and Monday morning, Avery was up at 5, throwing up. She was fine all day and all night until right around 5:15 both mornings. That was bad, but not as bad or strange as last night.
Last night, I started a fitness boot camp. This has nothing to do with the story except that it's hard for me to wind down when I work out at night. So I tossed and turned until almost midnight before I dozed off. I was up again around 1:30 and then again at 3. Around 3:30, I woke up to the sound of running water. I assumed it was a faucet and I lay there, debating with myself over whether I would get up to turn it off. Just forget it. It's not going to drive you crazy. You've finally gotten to sleep. If you get up now, you'll be awake for another hour. But, that's bad to waste water. You really should just get up and do it. Oh, for the love, you could have turned it off by now!
So I got up. To turn off the faucet. Except when I stepped onto the bathroom floor, I stepped in water. A lot of water. What the...?
The toilet was running. Water was all over the floor around the toilet. It must be leaking. Oh well, I'll call the Roto Rooter guy because he was the last one to mess with the toilet. Good. It will be free. Now, how to get it to stop? I lift the top of the tank off and pull on that ball/lever thingy. Nothing. Just more water flowing. And then I see it. An enormous crack down the back of the tank of the toilet. Water is pouring out. I say, very faintly, as if I don't really want him to see it, "Aaron? Honey? I need you." Nothing...just a snort from the bed. A bit louder, "Aaron? Can you wake up?" He mumbles and goes back to sawing logs. I finally yell, "Babe! CAn you get up? I need your help!"
He stumbles in, sees water and towels everywhere and says "What the hell?"
The towels are soaking it up quickly, but we know there's nothing we can do at 4 a.m., so he shuts off the water to the potty and we get back in bed, listening to the sounds of our bathroom being flooded. He says "I think we should have flushed it so it would empty out." We lay there for another 10 minutes, tossing and turning. I finally get up, flush it one last time, the water drains and the rushing stops.
Have you ever heard of this? I mean, seriously, a toilet just cracks and floods the bathroom in the middle of the night? I swear, my family has the weirdest stuff happen. At any rate, we're getting a new toilet today. Aaron wants me to go help him pick it out. As if I care what sort of toilet we get. As long as he doesn't come home with a hot pink one, I'm fine. But I'll go. And debate the elongated seat versus the energy efficient tank. Can't wait. I hope I can keep my eyes open long enough to NOT pick the hot pink.

Confessions

There are a few things I'd like to get off my chest, but none of them, on their own, is worthy of an entire post. So here goes:


1. I don't like going to the movie theater. Not because of the cost or because I have to wear a bra. No, it's because I cannot stand to hear people eat. Especially crunching. Ice is the worst for me, but popcorn is almost as bad. Just in case you are my friend and thinking that you will never eat in front of me again...eating with people or with the people in front of me doesn't bother me. It's when the crunching is happening to the side of me or behind me that seriously sends me into an epileptic fit.

2. I don't like to hear the phone ring. I love for my friends and family to call me, but my first reaction to hearing a ringing phone is "AAARRRRGGGGHHH!"

3. I love going to the grocery store. Everything about it thrills me. I love to clip coupons and buy things on sale. I love to compare prices of butter and cheese. I love to fill my basket with fresh produce and name brand items that I didn't get to have as a kid. I like to organize the items on the belt based on where they will be stocked in my house. I love to hear the beep of the checkout. And most of all, I LOVE LOVE LOVE to have a fully stocked pantry and refrigerator. It makes me feel like all is right with the world.
Sidenote: I used to want to be a grocery checker. I might be one right now if they hadn't gone to the automated beeper. I like the cash register. I used to pretend to use the cash register to ring up the items when my mom was putting away groceries. Sadly, this is one goal I fear has slipped through my fingers. Damn technology.

4. I love to smell my kids' feet. It cracks me up that even little babies get stinky feet. Go ahead, smell a baby's feet sometime. Right there, on the bottom, where the toes meet the feet. It's smelly, unless they just had a bath. I love it!

5. Getting massaged is my very favorite thing in the world. Actually, any rubbing of any kind on any part of my body is heavenly. And I don't mean that in a perverted way. If someone wants to play with my hair or tickle my back, they are my friend for life. I love it when Rhett sits and rubs my arm with his little chubby paws. I may have been a cat in a former life.

6. I cannot sleep unless my teeth are flossed. If I can't suck air through my two front teeth, I'll lie awake debating over whether or not to get up and floss or try to do it with my tongue or fingers.

7. On that same note. I never go to bed with makeup on. Ok, there was that one time in college when I had too much to drink, but usually, I can't do it. It's almost an obsession for me. I've tried. I want to be one of those low maintenance girls who just decides to go to bed and goes. Without a routine. It reminds me of a grandma to always have to clean my face before bed. But I can't sleep and it makes me gag when I see the mascara caked on my pillow and under my eyes in the morning.

8. I love to play poker. Online, with friends, in Vegas, anywhere. Ok, maybe I can't really afford to play poker in Vegas, but I've definitely played Shreveport or Kansas City. Actually, I like any kind of gambling, but mostly poker. And blackjack. I'm afraid I would be a gambling addict if we lived near a casino and if I weren't married to a somewhat level-headed gambler. And if I didn't want my kids to go to college.

9. I love celebrity gossip. I subscribe to US Weekly, not only because it's cheaper than People, but because it's trashier. But still acceptable and somewhat credible. I have standards.

10. I could spend $1000 in less than an hour in each of the following stores. (I dream about it all the time.) Barnes and Noble, Sephora, Ulta, Hobby Lobby, or Target.


That's all for now...but there is much more weirdness where that came from! Stay tuned!

The Dead Bird

I have to share with you this conversation between Avery and I that just took place. We are grilling salmon and planning to eat outside on our patio, so she and her dad are getting things all set up outside. She just walked in with the saddest, most pitiful face I've ever seen and said "Momma, there was a bitty baby bird outside and it is dead." Here's the rest of that little chat. I had to bite my cheek to keep from laughing at times.

Me: Oh, baby, I'm so sorry.
Avery: Yeah, isn't that sad? That poor little baby just got dead. Another bad bird got it dead because there is a hole in it.
Me: Well, I really hate to hear that, but at least now it's little soul can go to Heaven and be with God.
Avery: Nope. The trash.
Me: What?
Avery: Dad threw that bitty baby bird into the trash.
Me: Oh. Well, what else would he do with it?
Avery: How about just leave it there? How is that baby's momma going to come get it and take him home?
Me: Well, if the momma wants to find him, she will.
Avery: I'm going to go outside and say "Tweet, tweet, tweet" and let that momma know what happened to her baby.
Me: I think that's a good idea, Baby. I know it's sad, but that's what happens.
Avery: Yeah, I guess that's just what happens if you're a bird.

Maybe you had to be there, but it was quite a crack up. The solemn facial expression, the utter despair. It was one of those priceless conversations that I hope I never forget. That's why I like to write this stuff down...otherwise, I wouldn't remember yesterday.

Talking

I like to talk. A lot. My sister says my mom and I can yammer away for hours about nothing. I love to have a long gab session with Mom or a girlfriend when I'm not busy. I've always assumed that whoever was on the other end of my conversations was enjoying themselves as much as I am. However, something has been happening recently that has made me wonder if I'm annoying to everyone and they are all just too nice to let me know.
Let me clarify. No one has said or done anything to me that makes me think I talk too much. But I recently gave my number out to a lady who does, in fact, talk too much, and it's driving me crazy. She is a parent of one of the kids at Avery's school and she's very nice and she asked for my number in case one of us needed something on a school morning or something. Sometimes, if the weather is bad, we watch each others' kids in the car while the other takes her child inside. That way we don't have to get all the little ones out in the rain/cold. Here's the problem: She calls me EVERY school morning. I'm always in a rush to get all three kids fed, dressed and ready to go, and I use my drive time to run down the checklist to make sure I haven't forgotten anything and to talk with Avery about the day. I don't like to spend all my time on my cell in the mornings. I like to talk with her and get her prepared for the school day.
Apparently, this lady does not feel the same way. It's not that she calls that bugs me. It's the fact that she NEVER SHUTS UP that drives me nuts.
Let me give you an example. And then you can tell me if I'm as bad as this lady.
This morning, I overslept. So we were in a hurry. I got all the kids dressed and fed, but I took my banana in the car with me and was eating while I drove. I didn't really have a hand free for the phone, so when the phone rang, I debated about not answering. But I would feel terrible if she really needed something and I didn't answer. She would never do that to me. So I answered. The conversation went something like this:
Me: Hello?
Her: Hey there, lady. How are you this morning?
Me: Oh, fine. Just running behind, as usual.
Her: Ha ha. Well, I was just calling to tell you that I meant to bring you those books I told you about and I didn't really forget, but I left them sitting on the table. So I don't have them.
Me: Oh, that's fine. I'm reading something right now anyway, so I don't need anything new.
Her: Well, I'm thinking I'll give you 1-5 and then when you get to 5, you can let me know and I'll bring you the rest.
Me: Ok, that's fine.
Her: I don't have the sequel done yet because I'm reading it now. And I have a hard time putting it down, it's so good.
Me: Oh, don't worry. I can't read that many books all at once anyway.
Her: I mean, like last night. I so wanted to read, but I just took some medicine and went to bed.
Me: Silent. I know where this is going. My banana sits on my lap, open, getting banana junk all over my pants, but I can't drive, hold the banana and hold the phone. I wait.
Her: My periods just hit me so hard. I mean, it wasn't like this when I was younger. I was totally normal back then. I mean, sometimes I had cramps, but nothing like this. This is just terrible. So alot of the time, I take medicine at bedtime and it just knocks me out.
Me: I know what you mean. (I don't, but whatever)
Her: Like, one time, me and _____ (husband) were supposed to go on a trip and I had to back out at the last minute because it was so bad. My sister was all ready to watch the kids and she was afraid she'd have to take me to the ER, I was in so much pain. But I've had my gynocologist check it out and she says there's nothing wrong. I just don't understand. It's so hard with all these kids. And then, this morning, ______(Husband) was home because he was going in late and that gets me all of schedule. Like, he had the Swiffer out because someone tracked in mud and I'm like, Hey, I'll get it done later, but he keeps doing it...

And then, I pulled up next to her in the parking lot and she laughed and kept talking. I said "Do you know I'm right beside you?" She said she did. I was like "Um, do you want to go in first or do you want me to go?" She said "Ok, I'll go in..." and finally hung up. SHeesh.


Ok, have you had enough? See what I mean? Please tell me I don't do this. Please tell me that if I call you to tell you I forgot your books, I would just say "I'll get them to you later" and be done with it unless you asked me about them. Seriously? Do I call you 10 minutes before I am going to see you and tell you something I could tell you in 10 minutes and then end up talking about my period and my husband with the Swiffer? DO I? If I do, I'm going to go on silence for the next week. I cannot imagine making my friends suffer this way and if I do this, please, please tell me. Lauren this excludes you. I know you think I talk too much, but I personally think you don't talk enough, so there!

p.s. As far as I know, this lady knows nothing about this blog and would not have any reason to happen upon this. I wouldn't intentionally hurt someone and I would hope and pray that she would NEVER read this.

Lessons

You know the cliche, "You learn something new every day"? I believe that to be true, but sometimes, you are fortunate enough to learn more than one new thing each day. Today was one of those days.

1. Magazines fit nicely into a toilet bowl, but they do NOT, fortunately, flush.

2. Yelling at an 11-month-old to stop touching poop does not make him stop touching it.

3. A pickle jar, upon breaking, will not only shatter and shower the kitchen with glass, but it will also somehow jump the kitchen sink and land on the living room floor, lodging small pieces into your foot when you least expect it.

Happy Wednesday! :)

Perfect? Hardly

A few weeks ago, one of my friends told me that she reads my blog all the time and that my life sounds perfect the way I write about it. First of all, if this is true, that my life seems perfect based on what you read here, then I apologize. Second of all, my friend knows all too well that my life isn't perfect and while she didn't mean it as a criticism or insult (I don't think!) I thought I'd better clarify a few things.
I love my life. A lot. But I have my moments where I want to scream, cry, and/or run away. I just don't think people find my pity-parties interesting or entertaining. I find it fascinating that there are people reading about my life at all, so I try to keep the depressing parts to a minimum.
Not that they aren't there. They are, so I'm going to throw a bunch of stuff out there just in case there are other people under the misconception that my life is just one silly antecdote after another.

Take yesterday for instance. My day was full of nothing but tears, snot and diarrhea. All three kids had diarrhea. We all have allergies, and Rhett has a double ear infection. Every time Rhett went poopy in his diaper, it leaked and I had to change his clothes. His bottom was so red, it bled and he could barely sit on it. Reese is potty training and still uses the baby potty, so I emptied that potty of diarrhea at least 6 times yesterday. Each time, I scoured the potty and my hands with hot water, Clorox wipes and anti-bacterial soap. I finished the day with three beers and we ate dinner outside so we could hose off the patio when the pigs, I mean, KIDS, finished eating.

My kids argue. Too much. They drive me crazy. Sometimes I handle it fairly well, with a calm voice and time outs for all. Sometimes I yell, though. Sometimes I say "OH MY GOSH, YOU GUYS ARE DRIVING ME NUTS!!!!" and I walk away from them, telling them not to talk to me for the rest of the day.

I argue with my husband. Sometimes over important things like child-rearing or money. Mostly though, we argue over the correct spelling or pronunciation of words, or whether or not we saw a movie together or with another person.

I have family issues. My parents divorced just when I was getting married 7 years ago. My dad just got remarried, my mom has a boyfriend, I have little tiffs with siblings from time to time, and I have trouble with my in-laws.

I think I'm fat. I get upset over things like today's lunch...I scarfed down a Waldorf Chicken salad I bought at Kroger, proud of myself for choosing something so healthy, only to realize that the calorie/fat count was for one serving and these idiots actually think TWO people are going to eat that teeny tiny salad.

I am a neat freak. Less so than before I married my "laid back" (Lazy/cluttery/dirty) husband and had to relax a bit, but still. I can lose my mind over a dirty floor or hairy shower and want to cry.

I am not the greatest friend in the world. I don't call my friends as much as I should and I don't tell them I appreciate them as much as I should.

Shall I go on or have I made my point? My life is no different/easier/harder than anyone else's. But my favorite thing about writing this blog is that it has taught me to look at the little things in life with humor and a positive attitude instead of sitting around wallowing in my own misery.
So there!!!

Mutton Bustin'

Remember this guy? Sir Smirks A Lot, my precious nephew?

Here he is Saturday night, at a rodeo. For those of you who don't know, they have a special event for the kids at the rodeo....it's called Mutton Bustin' (without the g, of course), which cracks me up. They ride a sheep instead of a bull, and it's a HOOT. My sister agreed to share this most important moment with you all....check out this link.

http://s59.photobucket.com/albums/g318/laurenperrier/?action=view&current=HPIM0239.flv

Enjoy!

It's Disgusting!

I love, love, love it when kids say words wrong. It actually breaks my heart when they finally learn to say things correctly. I wish I could catch every mispronunciation on tape....hey, here's one now.
Reese is watching TV and has found something she saw utterly disgusting...only disgusting seems too big for her little two-year-old mouth.

First Haircut

For the past couple of months, I've noticed Rhett's hair looking a bit shaggy around the ears. And in the past few weeks, it's actually started to look like a mullet. I had to admit it was time for the big boy cut. Not one to waste money on frivolous luxuries, I decided to cut it myself. I have no qualms about cutting my girls' hair. It's long enough that if I make a mistake, I can take them somewhere to correct it. But a boy. I've never cut a boy's hair. Well, unless you count the 6 month period during which I purchased a set of clippers and whipped it out on Aaron every few weeks. Even though the clippers came with a "Haircuts at Home" video, I never watched it and frankly, Aaron's hair didn't look too good during that time.

Anyway, I decided to brave the haircut...it just needed a little trim above the ears and in the back. No biggie. While I think it turned out fine. He didn't love it at first, but put food in front of the boy and you can get by with just about anything.

I included this shot just for Aaron because he thinks it's funny.

See what I mean? He's so focused on the snacks, he barely notices I'm behind him with a sharp object.

This was one of the more brutal shots. I was afraid I was going to cut him with the scissors, so I had to put a firm grip on his little head. It looks much worse than it actually was.

See? He survived.

Sleeping Sisters

There are times in every mother's life where you capture your children in a moment that takes your breath away. It is so precious that it almost causes you to forget about all the fussing, whining and arguing that has happened every other moment of the day. I was fortunate enough to snap a picture of a moment like this earlier tonight. The girls were watching a movie in my bed tonight and fell asleep. This is how I found them.

I wonder....who fell asleep first? Who decided first to quit fighting over who got the most covers and snuggled up to her sister?

I'll never know, but I love catching them like this. It's momentary confirmation that siblings are, indeed, good for one another and that, despite their consistent protests to the contrary, they do, in fact, love each other.

Potty Training

Isn't it ironic that potty training comes at the same time as the Terrible Twos? As if you don't have enough on your plate with the constant whining, arguing, and "I do it my-TELF!" Add potty training and it's enough to drive even the most patient, kind mother to tears. And I'm not the most patient, kind mother. The past few weeks have tested my patience, to say the least. But I'm here to report that Reese has not had an accident at home in at least a week. And she's even been going potty in public, when wearing a Pull-Up and the Pull-Up comes home dry 99% of the time. She is nothing if not stubborn. I mean, determined. Yeah, that's the "half-full" way of looking at it. Reese is determined. Not stubborn and belligerent. Strong and determined. Those are good qualities when entering the world. Just not so fun when you are the mother trying to mold determination and strength into a somewhat pleasant child.

My least favorite thing about potty training has been the vigilance with which I should be checking the little potty in the bathroom. I say should because Lord knows I forget to check it as often as I should. As if I have nothing else to do but be on Turd Alert all day. Rhett checks it for me when I forget. Can I get a collective "EEEEWWWW"? I know. It's gross. Our days are full of hand-washing, clothes changing and potty emptying.

When I feel sick to death of the little potty and cleaning up tee-tee and poopy messes, I try to think of the positive things about potty training. In my husband's eyes, it's one step closer to financial freedom. One less child in diapers. Woo hoo!

In my eyes, it's things like this:

Reese ALWAYS wants to wear her big girl panties. Even at night, when she has to wear a Pull-Up. I love it that instead of arguing, she just wears both. It looks uncomfortable, but she refuses to do it any other way. Love that strength and determination.

Cooties

Some days, it's just better not to listen to your voicemail. Today, I heard a message that has left me uncomfortable ever since. THe father of some kids I babysat a few times this week left this a message that went something like this: "Dodi, I'm so embarrassed to call you. I just got a call from the school that _____ has lice and I have to bring her home. I know it's so white trash, but I wanted to let you know since they've been at your house all week." (For the record, they are very nice people and nowhere near white trash.)

Poor guy...I know he was embarrassed. And I wasn't the least bit upset. At all. Until I had this thought: Holy crap, Avery is at school today. And is supposed to bring a new friend home with her today. What if we spread lice all over her precious little preschool and give it to this new kid? How embarrassing. It's funny how, a few minutes before, I was like "Oh, this is no big deal." and now I feel like "Oh my gosh, we are so white trash! We have cooties!"

Ok, so where do we go from here? I checked Reese and Rhett and they are fine. I called Ave's school, they checked her and she's fine. But I, for one, feel like I have bugs crawling out of my underwear and under my skin. I will keep you posted, but for now, I'm going to go boil my entire body in lye, ok? Later.

Post 2 - Happy Birthday!

Happy Birthday to two of my favorite April Fools...
To April: My sister in law. The only chick I know tough enough and crazy enough to hang with my brother. He's a mess, but a cute, fun mess and she brings out the best in him. Love you, girl!

To Misty: One of my dearest friends ever. She took care of my baby girl, Avery when I had to go to work and loved her like she was her own. She is one of my most precious friends and she knows ALL my secrets. Happy Birthday. Miss you and Love you!!!

It's A Girl!!!!!

You know Avery, my precious oldest daughter who wants to be a boy? Today she shocked her teacher and myself by choosing to wear a dress for class picture day. I had told her she needed to look extra nice today and she chose her "new dress what you bought me that one day." Isn't she pretty? (Don't answer if you don't think so.) Don't get me wrong...I think she's always adorable and I think it's so cute that she likes boy stuff, but there's nothing like seeing your sweet baby girl dress like a...well, a girl.


And of course, if Big Sister is wearing a dress and looking "Pitty", then Baby Sister must do the same. She has her own style, that's for sure. It does not involve hairbrushing. Ever. But she is proud of herself and that, in my opinion, is way cuter than any hairdo could ever be.

My Baby Boy

My baby, Rhett, is growing up too fast. He's going to be 11 months old in a few days. That's only a month away from a year old! I can't imagine how he's that old already. Knowing that he's our last baby makes it even harder. I don't know what makes me the saddest - Rhett turning a year old or Avery turning 5. They are having a "combo" birthday party in May and I'm just positive I'll spend the entire time crying my eyes out. At any rate, I'm in a mood over my baby boy getting so big...I thought I'd share a few pictures of his latest "bigness!"


Look at him...he has friends.




He is standing up by himself...it only lasts a few seconds, but he's well on his way to walking. (sob)


Here he is after finding his sister's Rice Krispie treat. He loves it when his sisters leave their treats lying around.


He'll eat grass if he can't find anything yummier...he's not picky.


He's growing up, but he'll never be too big to snuggle with his Mommy. (Ok, maybe when he's 15 he'll be too big, but I'm not going to think about that now.)

New Patio

We just had 180 sq. feet of concrete added to our existing "patio." The builders called it a patio, when in truth, it was a 10x10 slab. It felt like we were packed in like sardines when we tried to sit out there on the patio furniture. The cooker was on there too and if Aaron was cooking out, you'd be sweating profusely, worried your hair, eyelashes or eyebrows were about to be singed off. No fun. So we extended it. I love having the extra room...it's amazing what two slabs put together does to make it feel like a real patio. Is it weird that this is my very favorite part of the whole thing?

Video? Can I do it?

I'm testing something here. I just figured out how to shoot video using my digital camera. It seems to be downloading ok, so I thought I'd share this with you. I hope you don't think I'm too mean for filming my sleepy boy, but before I got the camera, he was eating with his eyes closed. He would NOT give up the Cheerios for anything. It was precious. I was able to catch the tail end of it, but he was pretty sleepy by then and beginning to choose sleep over food! I'm using this as my test video.

Ok, so I couldn't get it to work. Not sure if it's my computer, this website, or just me. At any rate, I know my sister and my mom would love this, so if you are one of them or just someone who has some time on their hands, I put it on YouTube...here's the address:

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=gdu0NDsp7AY

What a Day!

I had some cute little pictures of Rhett I was going to post this morning, but when I tried to log in, I realized my internet was down. Normally, this would send me into a frenzy of phone calls to husband, internet provider and any friend who might be trying to send me at email right this second and was wondering why I hadn't responded for so long! But today wasn't like most days. I was so busy, I didn't really have a chance to even worry much about the computer. I decided that, since I had such a crazy (not bad crazy, just crazy) day, I'd make you read a play-by-play of it. If you decide to stop reading now, I'll understand. I just like to vent...and make my day sound busier and more important than anyone else's, so bear with me.

7:00 - Get out of bed. Finally. Alarm has been going off since 6:00 because I was supposed to run 3 miles. Didn't feel like it. I'll run tonight.

7:00-7:45 - Sort laundry, drink Spark, and enjoy the quiet. Check email and plan today's blog.

7:45 - Reese gets up. Get her juice, get Avery's clothes for school (Don't forget belt...she HAS to wear a belt today!) and dress Reese. Fix breakfast for the girls and go try to wake Avery.

7:50 - Avery's not budging, so I wake Rhett. He's always ready to get up if it means food is waiting for him.

8:03 - Avery gets up. I dress Rhett, fix Avery juice, and give her her breakfast. Remember she needs a lunch. (Last week was Spring Break and I'm out of the groove.) Still haven't fixed Rhett anything.

8:10 - Give Rhett a bottle because it's not looking good for bananas and cereal, as we have to leave in 20 minutes and Avery still isn't dressed and her hair needs to be fixed.

8:15 - Realize I'm not even dressed yet. Fix a quick bowl of oatmeal and eat it while washing face, fixing hair and getting dressed. Babysitting for a friend today, so no need to look good (as I would ordinarily look fabulous. Avery's teacher probably thinks we're homeless, the way I go up there sometimes.)

8:30 - Begin yelling at Avery to move it...fix her hair, throw Rhett and Reese in car seats, come back in and find shoes for everyone. Friend calls to make sure I'm still babysitting today and wants to know where to park her car. Remember that cement guys are coming today to extend our patio...have to move car and trash cans.

8:45 - On the road to school. Reese and Avery are fighting, but everyone is dressed and buckled. Look in the rearview and realize Avery has syrup and pancakes all over her face. Dangit. Forgot to brush her teeth. Again. Find spare wipes under the seat and clean her face.

9:15 - Back home again. Pull up front to see friend and three children waiting for us. She brings the kids in. (These aren't her kids...she keeps them in her home every day. There are two two-year-old boys and a 4 month old girl.)

9:30 - Panicked. My friend has just gone over the instructions for keeping the three kids. The two boys? No biggie. The sweet baby girl? Just diagnosed with cystic fibrosis and on medication that has to be given. I must open capsule, and pour into half a teaspoon of applesauce every feeding. Friend says this is no biggie, she does it several times a day and besides, it's all written down, so what could possibly go wrong?

9:35-10-ish - Relatively quiet. Toddlers are outside playing and baby is sleeping. Cement guys show up, so I have to bring kids in. I cheerfully take glasses of water to the cement guys and offer them anything they need while they are out there.

10:05 - Baby wakes up. Supposed to have bottle at 10:30, so I guess it's a good time for medicine. Gulp.

10:10 - Baby is screaming. Mouth is full of applesauce and water...she will not swallow. Some of the medicine didn't stick to the applesauce and thus, fell off the spoon. I am busy finding every single granule that fell off the applesauce, fearing that I have done something so horribly wrong and that I should call my friend to have her come get the baby. Taking care of a baby who is sick is a big responsibility and I fear I have just screwed up the one thing I had to do to keep her healthy.

10:15 - I think I've found every teeny tiny speck of medicine and forced it into her mouth. I fix baby a bottle and she refuses it. I hold her and she screams herself to sleep.

10:30 - Realize I forgot to give the boys their snack and this must be why they are circling me like hawks in the kitchen. Promise to feed them lunch at 11.

11:00 - Fix lunch for Rhett. He eats heartily, never complaining.

11:10 - Fix turkey sandwiches and baked Doritos for toddlers. Stupid move. Should have given them the sandwich first. No one eats anything but the chips. Everyone is mad that I am trying to force them to eat. My own toddler removes her jeans and stands on her chair, half naked, yelling for cookies. The other two start to ask (less loudly) for cookies. I say not until we finish eating and they are all mad again.

11:30 - Give them some grapes and give up. No cookies, but at least they had some nutrients.

12:00 - Kitchen is cleaned up and it's time for naps. Spend 45 minutes trying to get three 2-year-olds to lie down. Put on Barney and this revs them up more. Cement guys are out of water.

12:55 - One is sleeping on the couch, one is in the pack and play and Reese is banished to her bed for jumping on the couch while others are trying to sleep. I sit and feed the baby, who is now accepting that the only way she will eat is if she lets me feed her. She has given in. She is so tiny and so precious. I miss having a newborn.

1:30 - Friend comes to get the kids so I can go get Avery. Notice that the one on the couch has wet his pants. :(

2:15 - Back from picking up Avery. Cement guys are ready for me to put kids' handprints into the patio. I've been dying to do this ever since we decided to lay the patio. It takes four tries because Reese refuses to keep still, but the guys are patient and smooth it over for me so I can re-do it.

2:30 - Strip couch of pee-pee cushions and throw in washing machine. Thank God we decided on a denim sofa.

2:35 - My friend, Jennifer brings her baby. He's the only one who is supposed to be here today...besides my own of course. The others came today because I prayed for a way to make some money and the calls came pouring in. (Thank you, God. No complaints, here.)

2:50- Baby is in bed, my kids are watching TV, and all is calm.

3:10- Two older kids, who I occasionally watch after school, show up. They stay until 5:30-6 most days, but they are easy. I sit down to clip coupons.

4:00 - Aaron comes home early so he can get ready for Mavs game (I won't get to run after all, as this is a last minute invite for him). We admire patio. I go back to organizing coupons.

4:10 - Aaron brings me wet jeans from the girls' room. Reese is again nude, so she is obviously the culprit.

5:00 - Aaron and Avery leave for the game. Friend picks up baby and leaves. It's just Reese, Rhett and I.

6:00 - The three of us are eating dinner. I remember cushions in the washer. Fold clothes in dryer and switch cushions over. Take clothes into girls' room. Hear something.....Bathroom door is closed. Light is on. Uh oh.

6:05 - Softly say "HOLY SHIT" because someone has closed the sink drain, yet left the water running and the floor is COVERED with water. It could have been anyone, so I decide against calling the parents of every child who was here today to force them to come clean it themselves. I just get busy cleaning.

6:15 - Back to eating. Delicious healthy salad. I feel like I could use a beer. I eat 5 Reese's eggs instead.

6:30 - Remember Aaron got Internet working again. and log on. Check for poker money. Nope. Oh well, I can still waste time.

7:30 - Still on computer. Haven't cared for a child, cleaned a speck or folded an item of clothing in almost an hour. Aaaahhhhhh, sweet escape.

Easter Oops

I don't normally go out and buy new clothes for Easter and I certainly don't worry about them matching or looking perfect. Clean is usually my main concern when dressing my children for church at any time. But this year, they already had their matching outfits from Pa Pa's wedding and I was excited to get pictures of them. Don't they look adorable? (I think Rhett looks like a retired golfer)

This was taken just before we left for church. Surprisingly, everyone stayed clean and dry all the way to church. Even into their classrooms. Even in the car on the way to my brother-in-law's for Easter lunch. For the first time in, like, forever, they looked adorable at the same time and stayed that way.

Here they are in the kitchen of Audie's house.

Do you notice anything funny about them? Does Avery seem to be wearing a semi-short little spring dress, while Reese's appears as if it's almost floor length. Yep. That's right. I took my children to church on Easter wearing opposite dresses.

Hope your Easter was as perfect as ours! :)

Friday Funnies

Ok, maybe these won't be funny to you. I'm sure not all of them will tickle your funny bone, but I don't have much to write about (but we're going to watch the elephants set up the circus tent this morning and we're having a patio poured next week so get ready!) and I've been laughing out loud at some members of my family. Sometimes they are funny without even trying! Here are just a few of the conversations that had me giggling....


Husband: Honey, were there Tic Tacs in the banana sack?
Me: What?
Husband: Were there Tic Tacs in the banana sack?
Me: (giggling) I have no idea what you mean.
Husband: (Slightly irritated and baffled as to why I'm laughing.) Was there a box of Tic Tacs in the sack with the bananas that I brought home today?
Me: (Laughing out loud) Oh my gosh. I had no idea what you were trying to say. I thought you were talking about something dirty.
Husband: You are very weird. And sick. (Sadly, he is so right.)

Note: I will try to work "Tic Tacs in a banana sack" into my daily conversations. It rolls right off the tongue...and it could be dirty, which makes it funny.




Background info for this one: My friend, Erin and I have had our run of bad luck in the herpes department lately. She has had one cold sore after another and I've had weird sores on my tongue and gums. I believe they are completely unrelated, but we were discussing it and it reminded me of the Seinfeld episode where Elaine wanted "The Sidler" to chew gum or something. He said "Can't. Burns my cankers," and I find that hysterical. So, when Erin comes over, we like to say things about certain foods or drink burning the cankers, mocking "The Sidler." Little ears are always listening....

Avery: Mom, I have a cranker in my mouth.
Me: What's a cranker?
Avery: You know, a cranker. In my mouth.
Me: I'm not sure what you mean.
Avery: I have a cranker like you and Erin always have. You know, when you can't eat stuff because it burns your crankers?

Note: If my sweet friend does, in fact, move to Boulder as planned, at least Avery and I will always have "crankers" to remember her by.



Conversations with Reese:
Me: Reese, get back in the kitchen with those crackers.
Reese: I don't like you either! (this is always said in a surprisingly hateful tone for someone so small and cute.)
Me: Reese Olivia, get yourself back into the kitchen and don't you dare talk to me that way.
Reese: I don't like you either!
Me: Hand me the crackers. You are going to time out. That is so ugly to talk that way.
Reese: (from the time out spot, crying) I don't like you either.
Me: Go to your room. Not another word from you until you can be a sweet girl.
Reese: Sorry, Momma.
Me: Thank you. Now go to your room and think about how you need to talk like a sweet girl.
Reese: I don't like you either!
(Sigh.)


Reese: Momma, can I have snack?
Me: No, baby, Momma's making dinner.
Reese: (a bit louder) Momma, can I have a snack?
Me: No, Honey, you can have something after dinner though.
Reese: I DON'T LIKE YOU EITHER!



Avery: (toots loudly) Mom, I tooted.
Me: I noticed. Did you say excuse me?
Avery: It's just me and you here.
Me: Yeah, but if you toot in front of someone you need to say excuse me.
Avery: Ok. Mom? Can you feel it when you toot?
Me: You mean, do I feel it when you toot? Only if you're on my lap.
Avery: NO, MOM! Can you feel it when YOU let toots?
Me: Well...sure. I mean, yeah, I think everyone can.
Avery: That's pretty funny, huh, Mom?
Me: Yeah, I guess so. God has a good sense of humor.
Avery: Yeah. Totally. God is funny about toots.

I think this is what Eckhart Tolle (Author of A New Earth) had in mind when he talks about living in the moment. Enjoy the little things...even toots.

Happy Friday!

Night and Day

My two girls couldn't be more different. Avery is the oldest and is a bit more serious. She is competetive and tough and way into "boy stuff." She despises anything pink. She takes her schoolwork and all things athletic very seriously. Reese is a bit more quiet in front of strangers but is a total ham at home. She wants to make people laugh, she wants everyone to say she's pretty and she loves girl stuff. She follows her sister around constantly, copies everything she says, and tries to act just like her sometimes, but her true self cries out for pretty dresses, jewelry and high heels. She's the one who constantly gets into my makeup drawer. She goes for the same thing every time. Goldie lip gloss in "Baby." She's my girly girl.

Never was this so apparent as this morning. The three of us girls watched "Enchanted" last night. Throughout the entire movie, Reese kept saying "I pincess, Momma." She asked if she could be a princess, wanted me to call her Princess Reese, and asked about 400 times if she could wear a crown.

This morning, we got out all the dress up stuff so Reese could be a "pincess." Avery said, in her deep "boy" voice, "I'm just gonna be the prince." Of course.

Look at the pictures...the differences between the two are captured perfectly.

Here is Princess Reese:

And Prince Avery: (I've never actually seen a prince dress this way, but hey, it works for her.)

And then there's Rhett. We aren't sure what he likes yet, except food. He just goes with the flow.