Too Organized?

I think I have finally happened upon a reason that sometimes, being organized can be a bad thing. Maybe not bad, but surely not-so-good.

That reason is: Having a Spouse Who Does Not Believe in Organization.

Let me explain. My husband is not organized. God love him, I think he wants to be. I believe that he sees the virtue in organization. He tries. I've seen him work for hours in his garage, trying to organize, but all that usually happens is that the same stuff is now in neat stacks. It's not any more organized than it was before, it just looks neater. He still has no idea where the hammer or tennis balls are, but dangit, they look nice.
It drives me nuts that he never knows where anything is. I always know where things are. If you ask me where Reese's left Dora shoe is, I will tell you that it is underherbedbecauseshe droppeditduringhernapyesterday. I can find things. Unless HE has touched them. If he has touched something of mine, it's a crap shoot as to whether or not I will ever see it again. Normally, I am ashamed to admit, I speak to him in a rather condescending way on this subject. It's not becoming of me, I realize, but I think I'm right, so I justify it.
Well now, I'm here to apologize for being so rigid in my beliefs and for making him feel bad when he loses my stuff.

This morning, when I couldn't find my keys, I panicked. I woke the kids up later than usual because they were up half the night acting like nut jobs, so I let them sleep in. I decided I would drive rather than walk today. I just assumed that I would grab my keys and walk out the door at 7:35, as usual.
What I forgot was that He had my keys last night after our walk to the tennis courts. He and Rhett came home without the girls and I, so I never saw where he put my keys. This morning, at 7:35 on the dot, I reached for my keys in their regular spot on the counter. Nope.
The only other spot they can be is in my purse. I try not to drop them in my purse because then I have to dig in my purse as I'm walking out the door, but sometimes it happens. Only this morning, they weren't there. I went back to my regular "key spot" on the counter. Still not there. And back to the purse. Nope.
After searching the entire kitchen, I gave up. If they aren't here, they aren't anywhere. Seriously, people. This is where I give up. I can't wrap my brain around something being in the wrong place. And I have three kids and a disorganized husband. So you can see why my brain doesn't work. These people I live with are screwing with me.

So therein lies the problem in being organized: If something isn't where it belongs, I have no idea where to begin looking. I'm at a complete loss. It's like I keep going back to the place where it belongs, just expecting that the object will magically appear there. But it must be here. This is where it goes.
If anyone is home when I am on one of these fruitless searches, I will tell them, 400 times: "(The object) isn't where it belongs. It goes right here. This is why everything has a place."
I bet they hate me.
I finally found the keys IN Aaron's bowl of junk on the counter. I had to put this bowl there because he unloads all of this things in 40 different places in the kitchen and bathroom if I don't. And then he has to spend 10 minutes gathering it all together the next morning. So the bowl is the Consolidation Point for Aaron. (See how condescending that is? God, I can be a witch.)
But I would never check the bowl for my things, because the bowl is for Aaron's things. I would never put my things in that bowl. So my keys would never be in there.
Except that they were. And it only took me 12 minutes to figure that out. Twelve minutes on an otherwise perfectly timed morning. We were almost late. Thankfully, I organize my time pretty well too, so I always leave 5-7 minutes to spare. (I hate how this is making me sound.)

So see? There is such a thing as being too organized. If you are so organized that you forget how to search for lost items, then you are too "together." You need to relax and lose some things to re-train yourself in the art of the search. I plan to test myself today looking for 3 lost socks that have been plaguing me for at least the past 6 cycles of laundry. I will begin by searching in the kids' toy boxes. I know they don't belong there, but that's all part of the testing. Thinking outside the box. Or, in this case, outside the laundry basket.

Hope your Monday is as titillating as mine!

Comic Relief

I have been watching politics all morning. I know it is so boring, but after the debates last night, I wanted to see what everyone thought about it. For the record, most impartial journalists agree that nobody won. Nobody took advantage of the opportunity to really stick it to the other one. So it was pretty boring.
But I still wanted to see what was going on in the world of politics today. I have the TV on Fox News where they are continuously covering the big bailout deal that is going on. It is a pretty interesting and frightening situation going on, but still, it's getting kind of boring. Just as I was about to zone out and possibly fall asleep, I heard a line on a commercial that made me laugh out loud:

"Seek medical attention for an erection lasting more than four hours."

And then I got a mental picture of a dude walking in to the ER with an, um, excuse me, boner. Then, I couldn't help it; I started picturing all of those boring politicians and reporters on TV with boners that won't go away. All of them, in the ER, yelling for help. "Someone help me! I have a boner with a mind of its own!!"
You should try it. It makes politics much more interesting.

The Ice Cream Man Is Coming!!!

Is there anything better, on a warm, late summer/early fall evening, than the sound of the ice cream man's truck. I remember this from when I was a child and the sound still sends jolts of excitement to my brain. It doesn't seem to be a regular thing in our neighborhood, but then again, no one seems to be out in front of their homes around here. All of our garages are in the back, so there's no real reason to sit out front, worrying about kids running into traffic.

But the other night, I just happened to be walking home from a neighbor's when I heard the ding-a-ling song of the ice cream truck. My kids were inside, getting naked for their baths. I ran in, screamed "Get dressed! The ice cream man is outside!" and grabbed $5.

By the time they got outside, the ice cream man was gone. He was in a hurry. And kinda rude, actually. I don't remember them being so unfriendly. Oh well. So the kids didn't get to choose their own. Good thing too, because $5 doesn't go as far as it used to. I remember paying with coins...what's up with a $2 Ninja Turtle? Bubble gum eyeballs must cost more than they used to.

Even though they missed the ordering experience, the kids were just as excited as I'd hoped they would be. Of course, if your mom ran in the door while you were naked and getting ready for the dreaded bath and bedtime ritual, and screamed "GET DRESSED, YOU GET ICE CREAM!" wouldn't that excite you? I'd think so. (I'm on a 1000 calorie-a-day diet, so if you ran in my house and screamed "Come get ice cream" I'd run out so fast, I probably would forget to even put my clothes back on. Heck, I'd jump out of the shower and into the street dripping wet for some ice cream right now.)

Sorry for that mental picture. I'll leave you with some real pictures to help erase the image of me naked, eating ice cream.

Here's Avery. She was really pumped, but she's a Kindergartener now, so don't expect any ridiculousness out of her anymore.

Here's Big Tuna, just sitting and eating. I think he's trying to sit as still and quiet as possible so no one will notice that he has his very own ice cream treat. I'll just sit here silently and eat as much as I can before they realize their mistake and take it away from me.

Ah, Sweet Reesie. Ever the goofball and never one to withhold her excitement. She's singing a jaunty tune about an ice cream bunny with bubble gum eyeballs. Gotta love the raw joy of an almost-three-year-old.

Three cheers for the ice cream man!!!!

Post 2 - How to be Charitable AND Lazy

In keeping with my goal of utter laziness today (I broke form for an hour and cleaned out shoes and did a load of laundry, but I got back on track), I found a website that I could spend hours on. And it's for a good cause!
At http://www.freerice.com/, test your vocabulary while donating to the hungry. For every vocabulary word you get right, they donate 20 grains of rice to the UN World Food Program. So far I've donated 3060 grains of rice and I'm still going. Is that, like, one bag of Uncle Ben's? Not sure.
My kids are hungry because I'm too busy on the computer to feed them, but the kids of the UN food program will be full of rice!
Enjoy your productive laziness!

Sick Day

Avery's sick. I'm not sure what her problem is, but she's been stuffy, coughing and head achy for several days. Today when she woke up, her eyes were so swollen, she could barely open them. So I kept her home for a rest day so she could start fresh tomorrow.
And I have a confession to make. It will make me sound like a heartless mother, so prepare yourself....
I'm kind of excited that she's home sick today. Not because I like it when my children are sick, but when it's something virtually harmless like a cold, it's a license to be lazy.
There is no guilt over sitting all day long. Because your baby needs you to be close by in case she needs a refill on juice or a couple of snuggles to make her feel better.
There is an excuse not to "get out and enjoy the beautiful day." You have to stay in and lay around all day. Sure, I could use the opportunity to get some cleaning, laundry, or scrapbooking done. But I probably won't. I mean, what if I was in the bathroom scrubbing the toilet at the exact time Avery needed another cough drop? I would never do that to my child. Plus, if I get too busy, it could possibly inspire busyness in Avery and I need her to be lazy. Lead by example, that's what I always say. Hey, I have my priorities straight.
I also have a stack of magazines that have been begging to be read since they came at the beginning of September. But that's just between us, ok?

She Kills Me (but in a good way)

Today was some sort of career day at Avery's school. This week is college week, where they focus on future education and such. Of course, Kindergartners don't really know what college is, but they are happy to participate in any kind of fun. Today, they were supposed to dress like a career person of some kind.

I wasn't sure what she'd pick. You never know with her...rock star, teacher, mom, cop, fireman...it changes almost daily. My friend offered a police officer's costume yesterday and I brought it home just in case. I wasn't sure what Ave would think, but when she got home and I asked what job she would like to have, she said "police officer." I showed her the costume and she LOVED it.

She didn't hesitate to bounce out of bed and get dressed when I reminded her what today was.

She couldn't wait to arrest Rhett.

He didn't resist, unlike Reese, who threw herself to the ground and began shrieking like those crackheads on Cops.

We picked up our neighbor, who is also in Kindergarten and walks with us daily. She didn't want to come out of the house. She was embarrassed. Her career choice was "teacher." She wore a school t-shirt and denim skirt with her hair in a bun. Name tag on a cord around her neck. Cute. But she was embarrassed. You know what Avery said? "Don't be embarrassed. We look good."

I love that. I hope she always keeps that confidence. I must say, I sure didn't. If someone laughed or mentioned embarrassment about something I wore or did, you can bet it bothered me. Heck, once my mom told me a denim vest I had looked out of style and I never wore it again, even though it was new.

I hope Avery isn't like that. I hope she looks at me and says "So what? I like it." (Obviously, if it's a leather vest with nothing underneath, I will have the final say, but you know what I mean.)

I must say, so far, she's doing much better than I ever did. She was the only one in her class who went "all out" with her costume and she was as proud as if she were Michael Phelps on his eighth medal. I wanted to say "You go, girl!" But I didn't.

I was afraid someone might make fun of me.

What is She Singing?

This cracks me up. Reese has gone around for weeks, singing this...to me it sounds like "Any bellies, straight up fool." What do you think?

What it took me days to figure out, is that she is saying "Empty bellies, 'stead of full," which I found out when we were watching Annie for the thousandth time. It's one of the lines from "It's a Hard Knock Life." I don't know why that's her favorite line, but she sings it constantly.

I also don't know why it never fails to make me smile. Maybe it's her voice. Maybe it's because she's just starting to communicate better and do things like copy movies and songs.

Or maybe it's just because I find her so stinking cute.

Turning it Around

This morning started out to be one of those days. You know, the ones where you really get the feeling you should have stayed in bed. First, I put the sausage/pancake pigs in a blanket thingys (what are they called?) in the microwave for 4 minutes instead of 40 seconds. I smelled something burning just in time to save them from exploding. The kitchen was, however, filled with smoke. I was too nervous to make anything else hot, so Avery had to go to school with half a Luna bar in her stomach.
But not before I railed on all of the kids, telling them to stay out of my cabinets in the bathroom! I cannot find the hairbrush. "This is why I tell you guys to STAY OUT OF MY STUFF."
Avery tries to talk. I tell her "Don't interrupt and don't talk back. It's not just Reese and Rhett. It's all of you!" She mumbles again, looking at my hand. Which is holding the brush I've been looking for for 3 minutes. Poor kids. How will they ever survive?
Because their toys are organized, that's how! Yep, I pulled another Clean House maneuver. I pulled out boxes and bins and went from living room, to kids' rooms to the playroom, boxing up toys. Then I went through them one by one, organizing them by type, location in the house, etc. It took me almost 4 hours, but it is a glorious feeling. Every toy has a place. I threw away two boxes of junk. Another bag is going to Avery's teacher for the "Treasure Chest." (She really wants it, she told me.)
So the day is turning around. I'm taking Reese for her lunchtime favorite, "Chicken and Coke" because she helped me clean. Or at least that's what she says. I only remember her putting the Dirt Devil pretend vacuum in her room. In the wrong spot. But whatever.
It's going to be a great day. I may not be able to eat anything, but we're going to enjoy ourselves.
Unless one of these rugrats steals my stuff again...

EDITED at 10:50 a.m.: It's a GREAT day. I just got flowers! My sweet husband was "just thinking about me." Yeah, I'm bragging.

Last Resort

Well, I finally gave in and admitted that I'm doing a poor job of losing weight on my own, so I made an appointment at a medical weight loss center. I went yesterday. I went through lots of test, including one that tells my BMR, which is basal metabolic rate. According to the doctor, mine is extremely low, which explains why I've had such a hard time losing weight. He put me on an 800-1100 calorie-a-day diet and gave me an appetite suppressant so I won't start eating the paint off the walls on that strict of a diet. I've been on this for exactly 2 1/2 hours now and so far, so good. I feel empty, but not hungry. I know that eating that little is not a realistic way of life for me, but I felt like I needed a jump start. I'm about to start boot camp again and I needed to see some results so I won't give up again.

I'll keep you posted on the progress.

The bad news is that I couldn't eat the cake the girls made me. The good news is that I wouldn't have eaten it anyway:

Yeah, it's a dirt cake. I know, gross. Gross, but sweet.

Kinda like my kids.

Political Joke

My husband sent this to me this morning. I love it!


Once upon a time there was a little red hen who scratched about the barnyard until she uncovered some grains of wheat. She called her neighbors and said 'If we plant this wheat, we shall have bread to eat. Who will help me plant it?'
"Not I, " said the cow.
"Not I," said the duck.
"Not I," said the pig.
"Not I," said the goose.
"Then I will," said the little red hen. And she did. The wheat grew tall and ripened into golden grain. "Who will help me reap my wheat?" asked the little red hen.
"Not I," said the duck.
"Out of my classification," said the pig.
"I'd lose my seniority," said the cow.
"I'd lose my unemployment compensation," said the goose.
"Then I will," said the little red hen, and she did.At last the time came to bake the bread. "Who will help me bake bread?" asked the little red hen.
"That would be overtime for me," said the cow.
"I'd lose my welfare benefits," said the duck.
"I'm a dropout and never learned how," said the pig.
"If I'm to be the only helper, that's discrimination," said the goose.
"Then I will," said the little red hen.
She baked five loaves and held them up for the neighbors to see.They all wanted some and, in fact, demanded a share.
But the little red hen said, "No, I can eat the five loaves myself."
"Excess profits," cried the cow.
"Capitalist leech," screamed the duck.
"I demand equal rights," yelled the goose.
And the pig just grunted.
And they painted "unfair" picket signs and marched round and around the little red hen shouting obscenities.
When the government agent came, he said to the little red hen, "You must not be greedy."
"But I earned the bread," said the little red hen.
"Exactly," said the agent. "That's the wonderful free enterprise system. Anyone in the barnyard can earn as much as he wants. But under our modern government regulations productive workers must divide their products with the idle."
And they lived happily ever after, including the little red hen, who smiled and clucked, "I am grateful, I am grateful." But her neighbors wondered why she never again baked any more bread.
(Author unknown, but very smart).

Waterlogged Weekend

Saturday morning, we got up and drove to Edmond, OK to watch my brother's football game. He is the head coach at Texas A&M Kingsville, which is near Corpus Christi. Hurricane Ike was supposed to hit them so they moved the game to Edmond (Univ. of Central OK). Since that's only about 3 hours away and we never get to see Bo, we thought we'd go. Sure, we knew it would rain a lot, but we didn't care.

It did rain. A LOT. It stopped for about a quarter and a half, but rained the rest of the time. It was sort of squishy and moist and not-quite-comfortable, but the kids loved it. Here they are during the "dry" time, before I had to put my camera in the car for fear it would be ruined. Oh how I wish you could see what Avery looked like after rolling down a grassy, muddy hill in the rain for an hour. Her cute, white shirt from the Gap was brown. I threw it in the trash. She still has a rash on her arms from rolling in grass and mud. She could care less. She said "It's itchy sometimes, but I don't care. I had fun." My girl has her priorities straight!

Here are the pictures before it got completely muddy and gross...enjoy!

Here are the girls, coming from the concession stand toward a puddle. Rhett is running in circles to the left, off camera. The girls are yelling "Can we walk through the puddle?"

I said yes.

I think Rhett heard me because here he comes....

And there he goes...

He marched back and forth, back and forth. Running, screaming, splashing. He loved it. And then he fell...

And loved it even more. (That's a piece of trash in his path. I know, ICK.) He stayed on his hands and knees for quite some time.

He was wet and grassy and dirty. And happy. The only one who didn't absolutely love rolling in filth was Reese. She liked walking in the rain and splashing in the puddle, but she didn't want to be muddy and grassy. She's a princess, you know.

Here are the girls in the car after the game. We had to run to Target to buy some new, dry clothes. They didn't care.

Look how happy they are. You can't buy that kind of entertainment.

I Love Spa Stuff!!!

If you'll notice, I added a new "ad" to the left side of the page. I put "ad" in quotes because I don't get paid to advertise anything. So it's not an ad in the sense that a business paid me to put their ad on my page. But it's an ad from me to you to suggest that you try something I like.
The last one I had up was the So Cool Mom t-shirt. I loved their shirts, they sent me a free one and I told you guys about it. That's it.
This ad is no different. I won't make any money off of it, but I did get a free product to try. I was only to write about it IF I liked the product. And guess what? I LOVED IT!

If you know anything about me at all, you know that I love, love, love spa stuff. I love massages, facials, makeup, skin care products. I love it all. I spend lots of time and money at places like Sephora trying to find eye creams and masques that will reduce wrinkles and make my skin look young again. It's probably my biggest vice. If anything ever puts us in the poor house, it will be my attempt to buy my way to beauty. (The irony of it is, I rarely put on makeup or fix my hair, so I'm not sure what I plan to do with all of the makeup and hair care products in my bathroom.)

I recently have noticed that my elbows are disgusting. Like, totally. They are all cracked and have these weird bumps on them. Someone suggested that they were warts. I decked that person between the eyes. Afterward, I began to wonder. Were they warts? And if so, what in the heck do I do?
I've used a body masque before, but it was a long time ago and I couldn't remember what it was. So I went online and did a search. I'm not exactly sure where I found this information, but it was a Trilogy Face and Body Masque. And they offered free samples if you pay shipping and handling.
Free samples pretty much make my head spin, so of course, I jumped right on that. I got the samples within a few days and used them immediately. The one thing I wish that I had done was to only use it on my face. Since I just had two small containers and one big body, I had to use all of the sample product in one use. Not smart. I would recommend that you only use it on your face or a specific problem area to test it for a couple of uses to make sure you like it before you buy.
Anyway, I liked it. It seems that it's either a MLM or a small business, because the owner, Kristina, contacted me rather quickly, asking if I had any questions. She also followed up via email to see if I liked the product. I told her about my one use only issue and that I wasn't sure if I loved it. When I said I wasn't interested in selling anything, she didn't pressure me. In fact, she hasn't mentioned that idea at all. We discussed my blog, she visited it and we agreed that she would send me the small, full-sized product so I could test it further. If I liked it, I would write about it. If not, I wouldn't.
I tried it first on my whole body. You gotta know that's a LOT of product. And it was a bit odd. I stood in my bathroom, totally nude, covered in mud, reading Prevention magazine. I felt ridiculous. Even more so when Avery walked in and said "Whoa Mom, you look totally rotten!"

After the first use, I didn't think I noticed a big difference. Until I put on my night cream and body lotion. Oh.My.God. My skin was so soft. So soft that later, when I was laying with Reese, she rubbed my arm and said "You skin feels so good, Momma." I am not making that up.
I decided to use it one more night before I wrote about it. Soft skin alone is not a reason to buy a big-ass tub of mud. So I used it again last night. Guess what? The funky, wart-like bumps on my elbows are gone.

I checked out the website...there are claims that it will reduce cellulite. I haven't used it long enough to vouch for that, and to be honest, I doubt I will. I would rather save it for my face and chest and arms because it's about to be winter and I can hide my fat ass in pants and since I won't be getting any more freebies, I gotta conserve product.
Many of the women on the website said they use it nightly and people ask if they have gotten a face lift. I've only used it twice, so no one has said that to me, but I will sure let you know if they do.
I suggest that you visit www.SkinCareMasques.com and order some free samples, just to try it. If you love being pampered and standing around in your bathroom naked, covered in mud, this is the product for you!
Seriously, it does rock...and Kristina is SO helpful and friendly...she'll answer all of your questions in a timely manner...check it out!

Oddities

Were you all beside yourselves with worry that I didn't post yesterday? NO? Are you serious? You mean your every day routine doesn't involve coming to see what breathtakingly exciting developments have been happening in my life? I'm shocked!

No seriously. I was organizing all morning long. It was so exciting, I forgot to get online at all in the morning. God, I'm a dork.

Look at what I accomplished.

I realize it would be much more impressive if I had taken a "before" shot. In all my excitement, I forgot. But just know that this is a HUGE improvement. There were cards, game pieces, and Play Doh crumbs all over that closet. The games were all thrown haphazardly on the shelves and it was basically in a state of utter chaos. It drove me nuts just opening the door. And now, it gives me peace. I've stood and looked at this no fewer than 5 times since yesterday. I love to organize. If you know anyone who works for Clean House or some other organizational, cleaning business, tell them to look me up. I want to work for them! I would love to go into people's homes and reorganize and clean their junk. Is that weird? I think it might be a bit weird...but not as weird as some of these other "quirks" of mine...

1. I love to buy stationery. I have a ton of notecards with my name, initial or other cutesy decoration. I LOVE to buy Post-its in different colors. I love note pads, cute pens, and anything else that you might use to write down your grocery list, to-do list, or thank you note. Except that I mostly use email to communicate, so the notecards don't get alot of use. The cute notepads and Post-Its, however, do get alot of use. It thrills me to use the last piece of paper on a notepad because that means I get to go peruse the "home office" section of the store. I can spend 15 minutes just in that aisle.

2. I love to buy Tupperware, Rubbermaid, Gladware, etc. I like containers. With lids. Preferrably in cute colors. I have a ton and I love to "accidentally" leave them at other people's houses so I can buy more.

3. I am obsessed right now with buying cute mixing bowls. These are my current favorites:

They are small and really not that functional, but I still like seeing them stacked in my cupboard.

4. I don't like to eat corn tortillas. Now, that in itself isn't weird, but the reason for it is. When I was a special education teacher, I had a 3rd grader in my class who had cerebal palsy. He was in a wheelchair and wore diapers. Normally, his aide changed his diaper, but when he came to me, she would like to take breaks and relax a bit. I didn't blame her and we usually got by just fine. But after Spring Break in Cancun with his parents, he needed a bit of extra care in the toilet area...so I offered to just start changing him myself. It wasn't a big deal and I sure didn't mind. But here's the bad part: the smell of his diapers reminded me of corn tortillas. So now I have the association of corn tortillas with poopy diapers. I still eat enchiladas, but when they bring that warmer to the table and the lid opens, I can tell at first whiff if it's flour or corn inside. Forgive me if I crawl under the table. *shiver*

Do you like how I switched from stationery and kitchen accessories to dirty diapers and corn tortillas? My mind is funny that way.

John David Charlie Spinson

I'd like to introduce you to John. Specifically, John David Charlie Spinson.

Where? Did you just say where? You mean to tell me you don't see John right there in front of your eyes? Yeah, me either, at first. But look closely. See that disgusting grub worm toward the bottom of the clay pot? That's John David Charlie Spinson. The girls found him yesterday and brought him to the house, proclaiming "We found a pet! We finally got a pet!"

Now, I realize how sad it is that I have reduced these children to adopting a grub worm, all because I refuse to have an animal in this house. If you can find a pet that doesn't require any work, doesn't smell and doesn't shed, then let me know. We already went the fish route. Twice. The first one died when Aaron cleaned out the tank and put water that was too cold in. Next time, the water was too hot and that fish bounced from side to side in the tank until he finally expired. No more fish for a while. (P.S. Don't call PETA. We aren't trying to be mean to animals.)

Anyway, I can't think of anything else that is non-disgusting (I'm trying, I really am), so they had to adopt John. They were happy. I believe the times with John were some of the happiest of their (and possibly his) lives.

Here they are after finding him and building his home. Avery can't take her eyes off of him.

Here he is, going down the slide with Avery, soon after he moved into his new home.

Here's Reese cradling him lovingly in the new home.

And then, Dad came home. Apparently, Dad doesn't understand the significance of a new pet because he just carelessly tossed it aside as we were hosing off the back porch. He actually had the nerve to dump all of the dirt out of this grape container and just hose it off with the rest of the dirt and rocks. And oh. my. gosh. You have never seen such devastation.

Reese was screaming out the door "YOU KILLED HIM, DADDY YOU KILLED HIM!!!" Avery just kept saying "Dad, you can't just throw away our pet. That's our pet. We love him." It was pandemonium for a while.

I was a bit more sympathetic than Dad was because I had been here when they first discovered and fell in love with John David. I felt bad for them. But not bad enough to skip the photo op...

Look at her. She is seriously devastated over the loss of this wonderful pet that she wouldn't even touch because he was "yucky."

Avery's photo is a bit staged. She saw me taking Reese's picture and she said "Mom, I want you to take a picture so you can see how sad I am too." So here you go...

May we all just have a moment of silence to honor John David Charlie Spinson's short, yet admirable life? Thank you.

The Bug Catchers

They caught bugs all day Saturday. Avery was the President and Lead Finder and Catcher of the Bugs, Reese was the Vice President and Holder of the Bugs, and Rhett was the Official Dirt Eater of the group.

I didn't have the heart to tell them that you are supposed to catch LIVE bugs so you can observe them...that bug catcher is full of dead rolie polies. Oh well, they had fun anyway.

Fu Manchu?

Fu Manchu?

Nope, just Big Tuna eating chocolate donuts with "sprinklers!"

Happy Sunday!

Up All Night

I am so tired, I can barely see straight. I was up half the night. Not dealing with kids as one might expect. Nope, I was up watching politics. The Republican National Convention, to be exact. Can you think of a more boring, loser-ish way to spend an evening? That's what I used to think too. Before I got old. Now, laying in my bed with my favorite comforter, watching history in the making on TV is my idea of a good time.
Last night was a good time. Sarah Palin, the VP candidate running with John McCain spoke for the first time. She was amazing. Even the ultra-liberal media agreed. Now, I realize that her speech was written for her and she has yet to prove herself in a debate or off-the-cuff press questioning situation, but wow. She was awesome.
I have had trouble with this year's election for several reasons. First of all, I'm not ultra-conservative in my life. I know abortion and homosexuality are sins in God's eyes, but I really don't know that I think the government should be involved in making those choices for people. I know that it doesn't affect or hurt me in any way if someone chooses to be gay or if gay marriage becomes legal. I know I don't think it's fair if someone does decide to be gay but their partner is not allowed in a hospital room with them because they aren't "family." I also know that I don't want to force a woman to have a baby if she desperately doesn't want it. I think we've all seen the results of unwanted pregnancies. In fact, in the book, Freakonomics, they go so far as to suggest that the decline in crime in the 90's had nothing to do with law enforcement, but actually as an indirect result of the Roe v. Wade decision in the 70's. Meaning that, since abortion was made legal in the 70's, there weren't a bunch of unwanted children who would be of crime-committing age in the 90's. Maybe it's true, maybe it's not, but I found it interesting.
Anyway, I'm not trying to start a debate here. I'm just saying that I don't feel like a right-wing conservative. However, I do normally vote Republican. And yeah, that means I voted for W. And I'm not embarrassed about that. I know he's made tons of mistakes and has a low approval rating, but I'm also smart enough to know that most of his decisions were not made exclusively by him. I'm also informed enough to know that this Democratic Congress has an even lower approval rating than Bush. The lowest in Congressional history, in fact. So it ain't just W making mistakes up there.
I normally feel comfortable voting Republican because, even though I live a fairly non-conservative life, I don't want to live in a non-conservative country. I'm not a fan of the socialist movement. I don't think it's realistic and I don't think it works. I think it sounds good to the very rich because it makes them feel less guilty for being rich. And I think it sounds good to the very poor because let's face it...they just don't want to be poor anymore. And I don't blame them. But I would like to be able to help them of my own volition rather than the government taking more of my money so that they can decide who gets it and who doesn't. And I damn sure don't want the government in charge of my health care.
Saying that, I felt torn this year. Obama was the first Democratic candidate who hasn't made me want to vomit. I actually thought "Hey, this guy is the one who will bring everyone together." I hate party rhetoric. I hate it. I hate that some people will stick by a person based on their party affiliation rather than their beliefs. And I refuse to be that ignorant. I want to learn about someone and vote based on what they believe rather than what letter comes after their name. So I've been paying attention.
I've been nervous about McCain. People make fun of him a lot for being old. But here's why I like him: The Republican base (ultra conservatives) don't like him much. They think he's too liberal. Well, I'm too liberal for that base. And I'm glad he's not a staunch, stuffy old conservative. I think he's just right for my taste. Conservative and Republican on important issues like the economy, energy and terrorism. But not overly conservative on the issues of gay marriage and abortion. That's my style.
But until last night, I was still torn about who would be best. And then Palin came out. Dang, that girl is awesome. She is so small town, down-to-earth and funny. I love her! I am so excited to vote Republican this year...finally, it's not so much about voting AGAINST one ticket as it is voting FOR another.
Whoever you are voting for, you can't say this election has been boring. It's not "business as usual" on the political front and it makes it fun. Ok, maybe not fun like dancing on tables or partying until 3 a.m., but for a 36-year-old suburban mother of three, it's all I can handle these days!

Walking to School

We live in very near the school where Avery is in Kindergarten. People always say "Oh, that's so nice" when we tell them where we live. It is nice to be as close as we are. I don't feel so far removed from her during the day. It's nice, but not as ideal as it couls be. You see, we live just close enough that you you feel like a lazy chump if you ever drive. And yet, it's just far enough that you break a sweat walking, especially in the afternoon. The only time it's a problem is if I've already taken my shower (kind of necessary after running in the mornings) or if I have to be somewhere later in the day, because this is what we've looked like coming home from school each afternoon.











And those are the two in the stroller. Imagine me, 30 pounds overweight, pushing 60 pounds of kid in a double stroller four and a half blocks. In the hot, humid 100+ degrees Texas weather. Ick.
But I'm happy to report a slight change in our weather this morning. It was cool enough that the girls wore a jacket. It was a wonderful walk to school. The walk home? Still nice and cool...because it started raining. So today, I'm a bit less sweaty than usual. Now I just smell like a wet dog. Gotta love that Texas weather!

Kids Are Funny

Last night was one of those rare nights where the kids were not only well-behaved all evening, but also hysterically funny. I will share my favorite conversation. Maybe you had to be there, or maybe you had to have a margarita in your belly, but the whole thing just struck me as funny.

Avery: Mom, there is a girl in my class who just does this to me all the time: shows me how the girl blows in her face and gives her the "raspberries" all the time.

Me: Why in the world does she do that?

Avery: I don't know. She does it when we sit on the carpet and when we stand in line. I never even talked to her before.

Me: That is kind of strange. Have you told her to stop?

Avery: No. I just a-nore (ignore) her.

Me: Well, if she ever says naughty words to you or hits you, you can tell the teacher. Otherwise, just keep ignoring her.

Avery: Can I tell you something and you won't get mad? It's kind of mean.

Uh oh. Here it comes.

Me: Sure, you can tell me anything (gulp.)

Avery: She kind of has, well, kind of has a mean face. It looks like she's mean all the time. And she has alot of leftover boogers on her face. Her mom doesn't wipe stuff off her face at all.

Me: (Holding back laughter) Well, she probably just isn't a very happy little girl and it's probably best that you just be kind but ignore her if she is mean.

That was the end of it until we got in the car.

Me: Avery, I was just thinking. I bet that little girl just wants to be your friend but she doesn't know how to ask you. Do you think?

Reese (out of nowhere), shouting: STUPID OLD MAN!!!

Me: What? What did you just say?

Reese is silent, as if she has no idea what I am talking about.

Me: Did you say 'stupid old man?' Who were you talking about?

Reese: This (points at her car seat buckle, which she has been working on buckling for 5 minutes and can't seem to work it.)

According to Avery, Reese says "Stupid old man" all the time when she's upset. I have no idea where she got this, but I blew snot out of my nose trying not to laugh at her. And then I had leftover boogers on my face, which made me laugh again.

Kids are funny.

Who Cares If It's Lame?

This morning, when Avery suggested that I buy myself a birthday cake so we could have a party after school, I told her no. I told her that most people don't buy themselves a birthday cake. She said "Why not?" And I thought...why not, indeed? Who cares if it will just be me, my kids, and the kids I drag home after school with us? This could actually be pretty fun.

Confession: I was kind of excited because I knew immediately which cake I would pick if they had it in the case at Kroger. Every time I see this, I want to have a reason to get it. And today I did.

Thanks, Ave, for making me feel like it's ok to buy my own cheeseburger and fries birthday cake!

Bad Mood? Go to Wal Mart

Who knew Wal Mart could be the happiest place on Earth? Not me, that's for sure. I normally dread trips to Wal Mart and today was no different. Plus, I've been in a perpetual state of bad-moodness for the past week or so. It's a combination of a lot of things, mostly to do with being a parent (Avery has been in some big trouble lately), some with school starting (I don't do well with change), and some with getting older (I'll be 36 tomorrow!). None of these things are big enough to ruin a person's day, but when you combine them all every day for a week, it starts to feel kinda big.
I've been trying to find ways to lift my spirits, including drinking spirits, but nothing seems to be working. My house has been a pit and sometimes, the out-of-control appearance of my house makes me feel out of control. I'm babysitting and busy, so I decided to milk my bad mood and beg my husband to hire Celia, our once-every-six-months housekeeper. (How many hyphenated words can one person use in a post?)
I should be elated. And it makes me feel like a spoiled brat that I was irritated that she was 2 hours late. I was irritated because I have Reese (2 1/2), Rhett (15 months) and the baby I keep (9 months.) I had meals, naps and poops all planned out so that I could get it all done, be gone for a couple of hours and then come back in time for one more feeding for the baby before we walk to the school to pick up Avery and other kids I'm keeping today. Ok, so she's 2 hours late. I am not going to act rude about it because it's not like she was at the mall shopping. She was cleaning someone else's house and I should be grateful I can afford to hire her (sometimes when it's my birthday week) at all. So we rolled with it.
I loaded up the kids and the baby immediately started screaming. I began to dread walking around Wal Mart with three kids under three when only two can fit in the cart and the one who can walk is notorious for hiding in stores. But the minute we walked in the door, I could tell it would be a good trip.
There was a band singing directly behind the cash registers. Actually, it was a man and two women, but they were really getting after it. The man's name is Fisher Stevenson, and according to the Wal Mart workers, he's "the next big thing." He was very social and personable and he talked to people as they walked by. He spotted Reese in her pink princess gown and tap shoes and told her she was beautiful. That's all that girl needs to hear. She stopped directly in front of him. He looked at me, asked her her name and told me she looked like Suri Cruise (2nd person in 10 minutes, by the way.) He then said "This next song is dedicated to Reese here." He asked Reese if she knew ballet and she put her hands up and twirled. He began to play and she proceeded to dance, all by herself in a circle of onlookers. She didn't stop the entire song, and a few other kids came to join. I know it's a cliche, but that girl danced like nobody was watching. And when the song ended and the group of spectators began to applaud, she came running up to me, arms wide open, with a look of pure joy on her face. It was one of "those" moments. The moments as a mother where you feel as if your heart will burst right out of your chest. One of those moments where everything else in the world fades completely away and all you can feel is happiness. I will never in my life forget Sweet Little Reesie, twirling in her "pin-thess" dress and "tippy taps," confident and secure that, at that moment she was the most beautiful, talented ballerina in the world.

The First "Real" Day

EDITED 12:29 p.m. (I forgot one more thing that made my heart swell...Avery came in after brushing her teeth this morning holding a sample of perfume. She said "Mom, I put this on since I have school today, ok? Say it with me..."Awwwwww.")


Today was the first full day of school for Kindergarten and I was surprised that it went so well. Avery couldn't wait to go and she didn't even want me to walk in with her. She said "Mom, do you have to come inside with me?" I told her no, but that I was going to do it all week and she said "I thought it was a REAL school day today?!" I obviously did not have one of those children who was clinging to my leg, begging Mom to stick around. She was more than ready to be on her own. She can't wait to eat at school ("Awesome!"), play on the playground ("So awesome!") and go to PE ("We get to do sports in the school? Awesome!"). Needless to say, she is a tad bit independent and terribly excited to get this whole ball rolling. That makes it easier, I think, to leave them.

Leaving Avery was easier than expected. Leaving the house was not. Getting all three of them dressed and fed by 7:40 proved to be a challenge. I was sweating profusely by the time we reached the school. At any rate, Reese, Rhett and I are home and wondering what to do with ourselves. Here are a few pictures of our morning.

Here's Avery, walking down our driveway. Her Pa Pa got her new school shoes and she loves them.

The little ones are pretty excited too, although they don't know why.

Here's the Kindergartener unpacking her bag. She knew right where to put everything. She was so on the ball. I asked her if she knew where her cubby was and she said "Of course, we were already here once." Duh, Mom.

This was probably my favorite moment of the morning. I promise it's not staged. Avery told Reese to come give her a hug and I was lucky enough to have my camera ready. I could cry just looking at it and thinking of Reesie's little voice as we walked out of the classroom saying, "Mom, now where do I go?" It's so hard to be the ones left behind.

This is how we left her. Sitting at her desk, waiting for all the unknown, exciting things to happen. I see a tiny bit of apprehension in her face, but she wouldn't dare admit it. That tells me is that she will miss us a little bit today. Maybe not as much as we miss her, but she'll still miss us. Won't she?

Homeschooling?

Is it too late for me to decide to keep Avery at home one more year? Or homeschool her? Just for one more year?
Today was her first day of school and they only went for about an hour while the parents listened to a bunch of procedural stuff. Basically telling us about lunch, how to pick them up after school and other general "don't-be-an-annoying-parent" stuff. And I still cried.
What is my problem? I taught Kindergarten at this school. I know the principal and many of the teachers. And I'm still a total basket case over it.
I'm not ready to let my baby girl go. I feel like, once they start school, it all goes so fast and every year is a step further away from me. I'm not ready. I'm not ready.
I realize that I can repeat that all I want, but that tomorrow will still come and she will leave me. And she can't wait.
I'm off to cry some more. And try to think of distracting things I can do tomorrow so that I won't be so lonely without her on her first full day of Kindergarten.

I Feel Sorry For Her

I don't even know this girl, but I feel sorry for her. Every time I see this ad pop up on my computer screen, I wonder if she's seen it. It's not the picture that would make me wilt, it's the caption. "She's a model now?!" Am I just being hormonal or is this mean? I feel sorry for her...and also I worry that one of my old yearbook pictures is floating around out there with the caption, "Can you believe her teeth are actually straight now?!" or "Would you believe someone married this chick?!" or "Can you believe this girl stopped wearing color-coordinated Esprit outfits with matching twist beads?" or...

Ok, so you get my drift. Yearbook pictures should stay in the yearbook, where they belong, only to be shared with your equally-dorky classmates.

Juice Bong?

What does it appear that she is doing? Maybe I'm just a raging alcoholic, but this reminds me of bonging beers in high school. That's not, of course, what she is doing, but that's immediately where my mind went, which is why I had to grab a camera.

What she is really doing is, in my opinion, still somewhat wrong. She's letting her sister use this makeshift fire hose to blow into her mouth. Ick.

And now her ear....

They are so weird. They must get this from their dad's side of the family.

Mmmmm, Cheetos

This was quite possibly the happiest moment of Rhett's week. He found his sister's Cheetos. He took them to the kitchen and ate quietly, presumably so no one would notice he was there.

He crammed them in as fast as he could, trying to savor every moment before he got caught.

Big Tuna Goes to the Doctor

So Friday was Big Tuna's 15-month Well Check appointment. It was basically uneventful except for two things.
1. We realized that he weighs a mere TWO POUNDS less than his older sister. Rhett is tipping the scales at 29 pounds, while Reese had to keep her shoes on to hit 31.
The good news is that he's a boy. There are always nose guard positions available as well as Olympic weightlifting. Also, according to the doctor, "He may look like a hunk, but he's also tall for his age, so he should weigh that much."

2. The doctor says bunk beds are a hazard. He hates them. His twin boys have them, but they've never stacked them, even though the boys are now 8 years old. He sees just too many injuries that way. He recommends leaving them unstacked for as long as possible.
Huh? Why would he mention this out of the blue? Oh yeah, the huge scrape down Rhett's back and the two busted lips from falling off of the ladder that is supposed to be under the bed, but somehow wasn't because they "wanted to play army fort and they have to get on the top."
the doctor suggested that we put the ladder in the attic. He didn't seem amused with my neglectful parenting.
I'm just glad it wasn't Reese's appointment. I would have had to tell him that she chewed through the electrical cord on the DVD player and almost shocked the hell out of herself. Can you imagine the look on his face then?
Wait...do I hear knocking at the door? Is that Child Protective Services? Uh oh. We're going out the back...

The Payback

I felt like Supermom yesterday. I'm not bragging, I promise. It only happens once in a blue moon, so I know I'm not actually Supermom. But I felt like it.
I was up at 5 so I could go jogging before Aaron left for an overnight trip. After jogging, I came in, went through my clothes so my friend could borrow the ones that don't fit me. Until they do fit me. Which hasn't happened since my children were born, but I'm sure it will happen soon. Oh wait. I quit boot camp, didn't I?
Ok, whatever, I'm still Supermom. I cleaned out the closet, then began preparing homemade biscuits for when my children woke up. One of the kids I babysit arrived around 8:30 and he was sad. Comforted him and woke Avery up to help me. Feeling great.
As Supermom, I feel that a scheduled craft will help lift every one's spirits so we make Suncatchers. The kids loved them. Score one for Supermom! Never mind the tiny beads all over the floor. I sweep it all up and send them outside to play while the Suncatchers bake in the oven.
In the meantime, the baby I keep shows up. I put her in the high chair with Cheerios and call my friend to see if her two boys want to come over to play in the water. They show up and all of my kids, plus the boy I babysit, plus the two boys are outside playing in the water. I yell out the door that I will make cookies for them to decorate after lunch. They are excited. "Way to go, Supermom!" They don't say this, but I know they were thinking it.
I realize I have no sugar cookie dough, but I have a cookbook and all the basics, so I decide to make them from scratch. Yes, from scratch. I make the cookies and refrigerate the dough as directed. I then wonder what I will make all these kids for lunch. I am not in the mood for a sandwich assembly line. Plus, I'm not sure we even have enough turkey for 6 children. I spot the hamburger I'm thawing in the sink. I had planned to make the kids and I a cheeseburger macaroni-ish casserole for dinner. I decide it makes more sense to make it for lunch. So while I clean the cookie dishes, I begin browning hamburger and cooking macaroni.
I see the clock. It's 11:00 and I've already done more in this day than I usually do in one day. Go, Supermom.
I call them inside to dry off, change clothes and wash up for lunch. They track in more grass and water than I thought possible. I sweep the kitchen floor for the second time.
Lunch is ready. They love it. Three of the kids ask for seconds. This gives me a rush, which is embarrassing.
They all eat good and I send them off to play while I bake the cookies and get the icing ready. The dough is all cold and pliable so I decide to form it in the shape of the first letter of their name. They will love this. As the cookies bake, I dye all the frosting and get all the sprinkles out. They come downstairs to see their initials and they are all excited. They can't believe it. "Way to go, Supermom." They don't say it, but I know they are thinking it.
The cookie decorating lasts a lot longer than I had anticipated and it's relatively calm and argument-free. It went very well. When they are finished, I see sprinkles, cookie crumbs and icing all over the floor. I send them off to play, bag up the leftover cookies, and begin cleaning the kitchen. I sweep the floor for the third time. It's only 1:30.
The baby wakes up (oh yeah, I fed her and put her down for a nap during all of this) and wants to be held and changed. I hold her while I gather up all the wet towels and throw them in the wash. I change Rhett, put him down for a nap and rock the baby for a bit.
The kids are all watching a movie and playing Ninja Turtle while they watch.
Once Rhett wakes up, I gather up all the kids and throw them in the car. I drop the friend's boys off at their house and the rest of us go up to the neighborhood Parcel Post to mail a package. It's closed, so I have to drive a ways to the post office. The five kids and I run in to the post office to mail a package. The trip inside takes about 4 minutes. Getting in and out of the car with five kids takes approximately 16 minutes.
We stop for drinks at Sonic and head home. The baby is asleep, so I put her in bed and tell the big kids they have to rest for a bit. That goes over like a fart in a phone booth, but I sit for a while.
Finally, it's 4:30 and the baby goes home. Then the boy. It's just my kids and me. They remind me that I promised to take them to buy more crafts for tomorrow (today). I'm exhausted, but I promised. So we go. On the way, Avery asks if we can eat dinner at a restaurant. There is one next to Hobby Lobby and I'm Supermom, so I say yes. We get to Hobby Lobby, everyone is picking out what they want and we get in the checkout lane. As I am paying, Reese walks up and says "Momma, I need new pants."
And here's where it all starts to go downhill. She has wet her pants and left a huge puddle near the checkout lanes. There are four people in line behind me and only one lane open. So everyone sees and hears what is going on. I tell the lady behind the counter and she hands me a roll of brown paper towels. These things soak up NOTHING, so I use half a roll to clean up the tee-tee. She has called the manager in the meantime, so he and all the spectators are just standing around, watching me clean my child's pee. She is standing there with wet pants, wet shoes and itchy legs, asking me for new shorts. Avery keeps saying "Mom, can we just go eat?"
We get it all cleaned up and exit the store as quickly as possible. I inform Avery that we cannot go eat since Reese has wet pants. She is immediately devastated and bursts into tears. I know she is just exhausted from all of the days' activities, so I tell her we'll go through McDonald's and get something to take home. This makes her sort of happy, but then she pushes Reese and calls her a "Doodie." We don't call names in our family (not much anyway) so I tell them we are not going to McDonald's. We are going home and eating Lunchables. Oh. My. Lord.
Don't ever tell your exhausted, whiny 5-year-old that she is eating a Lunchable, because the shit will hit the fan.
The resulting conversation went something like this. I was mortified and shocked by this whole situation, by the way. And my Supermom feeling went flying out the window, only to be replaced by the worstmotherintheworld feeling that lurks in my stomach still today.

Avery: (through tears) I'm not eating a Lunchable. I'm never eating any of your food ever again.
Me: Good, that saves us some money.
Avery: You are so mean. You are the meanest I ever saw.
Me: You haven't even seen me be mean. I suggest your zip your mouth before you see me get mean.
Avery: I have too seen mean. You are mean. I see mean every day.

I decide at this point, it's best to ignore her. She wants to rile me up and I shouldn't feed into that. But what she says next shocks me. I cannot believe this is my sweet baby girl.

Avery: You know those kids you babysit? I'm going to tell every one's mom that you are the meanest person ever and no one will bring their kids to you anymore.
You won't get to babysit. Ever.

Still ignoring.

Avery: EVER NEVER EVER NEVER EVER NEVER. You will just be alone and mean all the time!!!!!

Still ignoring. Pit in stomach has grown to the size of a small country. I turn up the radio and dance with Rhett. He is oblivious to the anger Avery is sending my way and just bangs his head against his seat to the rhythm. Reese is sucking her fingers. I say sweet things to them so they won't think everyone in the car is nuts.

Avery: Mom. Can I say sorry?

Ignore.

Avery: MOM. I WANT TO SAY SORRY. Sorry Reese. For saying you are a Doodie.

Ignoring, very purposefully now..

Avery: ANSWER ME, MOM. WHY WON"T YOU ANSWER ME???? I SAID SORRY.

Me: Avery, I don't let anyone talk to me that way, especially my 5-year-old child. I appreciate that you are sorry, but you need to realize that words hurt people and "sorry" doesn't always make it go away so quickly. I have done nothing but sweet things for you and your friends all day and the one thing I say 'No' to sends you into a huge fit. That is ridiculous and I won't tolerate it.

Avery: I'M NOT EATING A LUNCHABLE!!!

I'll stop here, even though this went on for about an hour after we got home. Avery had to spend about 40 minutes total in her room before she adjusted her attitude and came out for hugs and apologies. I did forgive her (of course), but the pit in my stomach is still there. This is what she says to me when she's angry when she's FIVE. I think it's safe to say I am scared out of my mind.

And as for the Supermom gig? Since I see how Supermom gets paid back, I have not planned any activities, meals or fun for them today. I plan to jack around on my computer while I make them clean house. Let's see how THAT mom gets treated tonight....

You're Not the Boss of Me

I quit boot camp. There, I said it. I quit boot camp. I said it again.
It's been super hard for me to admit that. I don't like to quit anything. Ever. It makes me feel like a sad loser, but I had to do it. Ok, well, I didn't have to. I wanted to. Sort of.
Honestly, I'm not sure that I really quit. In fact, tonight would have been my second night of this session and I already miss it, so I'm 99.9% sure that this is just a break. I'm not sure why I felt that I needed to, but all signs pointed to me taking a break. I've been dreading this session starting for some reason, so when my friend called to say she couldn't go Monday night and then Aaron said "I wish you weren't going tonight," it took me about 4.2 seconds to call the instructor and tell her I was sitting this session out.
I've been worried about my decision for the past three days. Even though I feel some relief and not having to go, I think I needed a break. But why did I need a break from something I loved?
I figured this much out. It wasn't just this session. I was the same way last session. So much so that I refused to do much of anything pertaining to exercise on our "off days." As if that is hurting someone else somehow. "You force me to do boot camp on Monday/Wednesday/Saturday? Well, then, I will sit on my fat ass on Tuesday/Thursday/Sunday. I will also eat junk and gain weight instead of losing. See? YOU ARE NOT THE BOSS OF ME! So there!" (For the record, I'm not sure who the YOU is in these sentences. If it is somehow me, then that means I'm telling myself that I'm not the boss of myself, which is weird because if I'm not the boss of me then that means someone else is the boss of me and I don't like when someone else bosses me. Got it?)
This is what it all boils down to for me. Once something starts to feel like something I have to do instead of something I choose to do, I don't like it anymore.
So basically, I quit boot camp because I felt forced, yet had no problem jumping out of bed to do 3 miles on the treadmill this morning because I chose to do it. (Ha ha, Self. You aren't the boss of me because I am the boss of me!)
Is anyone else starting to think that maybe therapy is another thing I shouldn't have quit?

"Making a Scoop-ture"

I love their imagination. And the way Reese says "sculpture." And the fact that she's pantless and Avery's shirtless. Or the goggles. Or the Yo-Yo Ball attached to the stair rail. Or the...

Oh, whatever. You get the idea. I think they are cute. And funny. And....somebody stop me.

The Girls from the Real O.C.

I know I've skipped a few days, but I've had good reason. One, my stupid internet connection keeps going in and out, driving me crazy while I try to write and navigate this site. So I gave up.
The other reason is a really, really good reason to take a break. Girls Weekend.
Last year, three girls I went to high school with and I decided to start a tradition. One night a year, we use my husband's Marriott points for a free night at a hotel and we just hang out. No kids, no husbands, no responsibility. We can drink and no one has to drive home, which is a good thing, because nobody drinks like girls from Osage County. (Bring your own 18 pack, iced down in a bathtub.) It's either in the water up there or it's because there's nothing else to do in that small town except backroad and drink or have sex. We will not discuss the latter. At all.
Back to Girls' Weekend. The best part about this weekend is that we are all friends who have known each other for years and years but none of us are like "best friends." We get along great and pick up right where we left off when we do see each other, but we all live in different areas of the metroplex (and one of us is still living in the O.C.) so we don't spend alot of time together. Girls' Weekend is a great time for us to catch up on each other's lives and relive past moments that no one else can understand.
This weekend was perhaps the best thing I have done in a long, long time. Without going into great, dramatic detail, I'll just say that it seems that my husband and I have hit a rough patch. Some might call it the Seven Year Itch. I don't know what I call it, but it's been tough at times. I've been frustrated, to stay the least. Until last weekend. I think I can safely say that the Girls may have just singlehandedly put our relationship back on track. Who else but your longtime girlfriends can tell you to pull your head out, stop being a victim and do something about your messed up situation? Who else but your girlfriends can make you feel instantly better about your situation because they too have been there? I took everything they said to heart and began working on the situation yesterday upon returning home.
I can guarantee one thing: My husband will never be negative about Girls' Weekend after this. I think he'd be ok with me going once a month. Yikes. Once a month with the Girls from the Real O.C.? My liver couldn't take it.

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The Mullet

Let me start by saying that my brother is not a tool. Well, sometimes he is a tool, but only when he is trying to be but then, it's not like he's a real tool, he's just acting like a tool to be funny so that means he's not a tool. Got it?
He is also NOT the type who would ever ask to be photographed in front of a car. Ever. I made him stand there and he thought it was stupid. It probably is, but I am a tool and I don't care.

Ok, on to the meat of this post. My brother, who is not a tool, is very, um, frugal. I wouldn't say cheap, but his wife might. And he drives to the big city every two days for his job as a fireman. So you know these gas prices have been driving him insane. I'm sure he couldn't sleep at night, trying to think of a way to leave the big, gas-guzzling pickup at home. He would have ridden a horse if someone had one to loan him. Or tried to find a way to use the horse's turds as fuel for the gas-guzzling pickup he has to have for his on-the-side painting gig. I know him and I bet he mentioned the price of gas every single time he had to drive to work. Every 48 hours.

And then he found The Mullet. He found this car, which, according to him, gets "unbelievable gas mileage" and he drives it to and from work. I have no idea what year this car was made or even what kind it is. I don't know where Josh got it, but someone took the time to lovingly adorn the words "THE MULLET" to the back of it. I can't imagine why. Except that maybe this car looks like the type of car a dude with a mullet would drive?

I made him pose for the above photo. He chose to pose for this next one. He said "I'll pretend I'm in high school and just got my first car." So maybe he is a tool. But in his defense, he gets it from me.

If you knew my brother, you would know how stupidly funny this is. If you don't know him you just think he's a tool. That's ok, but he's not. He just has a really good sense of humor, especially about himself. He can never be accused of taking himself too seriously.

Check out the front license plate the guys at the fire station made for him.

Ok, I don't know why it says Dirty White Boy. But I do know why there is a Huskie dog on the left. Our high school's mascot is the Huskies. So there's that. And they drew it with funny, gap teeth because even though my brother is adorable, he's been convinced that he has messed up teeth, so they made the Huskie have messed up teeth. The picture on the right is of my brother sweating. Because they've never seen anything like the way he sweats. (Our whole family does this and as a woman, it's humiliating. I'm the only one at wedding receptions who has to change clothes and dry her hair between songs.) Look back at the first pictures. The wet all over Josh's shirt is sweat from working in the yard. For about 15 minutes. So I guess the fire station guys make fun of him for that, too.

"The Real O.C" is for Osage County, which is where we are from. And it is the real O.C. If you don't believe me, just go there.

In case you can't tell, I got a kick out of the whole thing. Saturday night, we were going to go toilet papering in The Mullet, but then realized it was 2 a.m. and decided to be responsible and go to bed. Plus, it's not the most inconspicuous car in the world. I wish I had one.

Updates!

1. JF wins the Lovely toilet water because she is the only person who cares.





2. We are back from Oklahoma and I'm swimming in laundry and snuggling my baby boy, who I missed severely, any free moment I have, so I'm not posting much today.





3. My sweet nephew, RJ, is perfect. He gave everybody quite a scare and had to stay in the hospital for a few extra days, but he is at home now, doing very well. So is his momma.


Here's a picture. Couldn't you just eat him up?





That's his momma's hand. She can't stop touching him. Can you blame her?

More on our "Girls' trip" home (Rhett was sick and stayed home with Daddy) later. Including a picture of my adorable brother with his Mullet. Stay tuned!

Ghetto Giveaway

First let me make something clear. I'm not going to start doing giveaways all the time. One, because I don't have alot of money or crap to giveaway and two, I'm not trying to increase traffic on this site. Both of those seem to be important elements of the blog giveaway.
BUT, in this case, I have something I need to get rid of, I've already offered it to my sister, my sister in law already has it, and I don't know who else likes it.
What is it? A one-squirt-used 1.7 oz bottle of Sarah Jessica Parker's LOVELY.
I just got it...it's $52 at Sephora but I can't return it because I opened it and took ONE SQUIRT. I love, love ,love the way it smells in the bottle. And on the sample squirty sheet they give you. But when I put it on me, it stinks to high heaven. If you don't believe me, ask my husband. He agreed that I STUNK when I wore it.
SOOOOO who wants it? I will do a random drawing amongst the comments left for me while I"m in Oklahoma this weekend. Which means you have until Monday afternoon to get those comments in.
I know it's ghetto, but it's an almost brand new bottle of perfume that I can't do anything with. So take it off my hands and enjoy. If it stinks on you, toss it. It's not like you paid for it.

He's Finally Here!

Baby RJ arrived at 5:18 p.m. today, July 31. He was 7 lbs 12 oz and 20 inches long. I hear he is perfect and his mommy is doing great! I'm still waiting on some good pictures (not on my cell phone) and it's KILLING me not to be there. I can't wait until Saturday when I can snuggle him all I want to!