Mommy, Esquire

Milestones

2012-01-22T09:34:00.006-06:00

I decided last fall that I wanted to run a half marathon. Now, this is somewhat laughable because (a) other than the 5k I ran a few years ago I had not run more than a mile without stopping since then , (b) I really had no idea how to go from zero to 13.1 in just a few months and (c) running half marathons is for runners and I was not a runner.

So I...actually we....registered (hubby is running the full marathon, the nut) for the Mardi Gras marathon on March 4 and there it was. My goal in black and white. And paid in full. I was committed.

God put two precious friends in my life after we moved here and one of them is a runner (the other one says she only runs if someone is chasing her and to call the police if we ever see her running). See, my runner friend....she can legitimately call herself a runner. A full marathon and 4 half marathons under her belt. So since she was also signed up to run the March 4 half, and because I'm such a good friend, I tricked her. Into training me. I casually asked her one day if she wanted to run with me and she said sure, great! She had no idea what she was in for.

I didn't make it a half mile before I had to stop, gasping for breath and, doubled over from a cramp, cried out my confession, "I'm sorry! I lied! I'm not a runner! I need help! Call an ambulance or get a defibrillator something! Then check me into a psych ward! I'm crazy for thinking I can do this!"

My sweet friend just looked at me, apparently forgiving the trickery, and assured me that I was not crazy, I could do it, I would do it, and we would work on it together.

We started out slow...we would run a mile, then walk a bit, then run another mile....and so on. Then one day we ran three miles. Without stopping, That was huge for me. I was so excited until I realized that my ultimate goal was to run more than four times that distance. I told her again I'd never do it and I'd just sit on the curb and wait for the men in white coats to take me away. She shushed me up, saying again that I would and could and blah blah blah...

Whatever, sister.

Then we started our long runs. We ran five miles one weekend. Then six. Then seven. Then eight. Then I lost a toenail. As I bandaged my bruised, throbbing toe with a Hello Kitty band-aid and lamented the fact that my newly pedicured toenail was going in the trash can I realized that I had hit two milestones.

.... the longest run I'd ever run or ever dreamed I could run and....

I could now legitimately call myself a runner.

A few things that get me through my long runs now are, ironically, the same things that get me through life.

I pray. A lot. I pray before I run and I pray while I run. I hide scripture in my heart and call it to mind when I need to.

When my feet feel heavy and like they don't want to take another step: He will make my feet like the feet of a deer. Ps. 18:3

When I feel like all my energy is drained and I have nothing else to give: But those who hope in the Lord will renew their strength. They will soar on wings like eagles, they will run and not grow weary. Is. 40:31

When my goal to finish strong seems unattainable and I just want to give up and quit: ...let us run with perseverance the race marked out for us. Let us fix our eyes on Jesus, the author and perfecter of our faith. Heb. 12:1-2

I've always heard people say that life is not a sprint, it's a marathon. When I'm on these long runs and I'm pondering that truth, I also recognize that, like our journey through this life, it's so much easier with a friend. A friend who supports you, believes in you...

and runs alongside you.

Lucky Dog

2012-01-09T15:25:00.003-06:00

Andy and I had a text exchange a while back that still cracks me up. It went something like this. And it dealt with our firstborn's future vocation. (he is 8 now).

A: The highest paying medical specialties are something-ology, something-else-ology, and another-thing-ology. Tell William those are his options. (he was actually a little more specific than that but obviously it didn't make a big enough impression on me to remember).

Me: William wants to work at a video game store.

A: Well that's just great. Tell him to study hard.

Me: It's not that he's not ambitious. I think he wants to have a hot dog cart in the french quarter on the side.

A: Awesome.

We dream big around here, people.

Hello? Hello? Is this thing on?

2012-01-06T15:52:00.005-06:00

So I decided to try to resurrect this blog. Not that I have any readers left (or at all). And not because I have anything extraordinary to talk about. But mainly because I am a terrible, awful memory keeper (aka scrapbooker - the word alone makes me gag) and this blog is going to be the only record my children have of their lives one day. I have a closet full of scrapbook supplies and I've tried. Oh I've tried. And I LOVE buying scrapbook paper. I have a pile of it. But all it does is stay stacked in its pretty plastic box. I've had great intentions but it's kind of like those jeans still hanging in my closet, circa 2002.... time to give up the dream.

When I started this blog, William was barely out of diapers, Catherine was not even a year old and Stuart was just a star in the sky. Now William and Catherine head off to school every morning on the bus and Stuart spends two days a week home with me and the other three mornings at "school" (when I can pry him off of me). I fear we will have a scene every morning next year when he starts kindergarten. I fear it will be him (or the authorities) prying me off of HIS legs.

Where has the time gone?

It's so very, sadly, painfully true....the days are long but the years are so very short.

It's also sadly, painfully true that, even though these years are flying by, at any given time in my house I am still called upon to wipe someone's bottom.

Seriously.

It's time to close that chapter, people.

The end.

six

2011-08-16T10:45:00.013-05:00

so my girl turned six and started kindergarten. all in one week.

here she is.....

oops. sorry. here she is.

first day of school.

she's a daddy's girl. here's daddy with her on the first day of kindergarten....

sorry. this is daddy and her on the first day of kindergarten ~

she and her big second grader brother are big buds.

...they made homemade pizzas for our little family birthday party.....

darn it. i did it again.

this is her and her big brother hanging out in the kitchen.....oh. and the morning of her sixth birthday, i took the cutest picture of her in bed with her favorite doll.

aren't they cute? wrong picture again.

here she is with elizabeth. she is her favorite doll. today. tina turner is so 2007.

see, here's the thing. when i look at this girl, i see that baby. i see that two-year-old with the crinkly nose, curly hair and smile that melts your heart.

i can't help it.

this is what i see....

when i look at her.

they said don't blink. or you'll miss it.

...they were right.

Another Moving Tale, Part 2

2011-04-20T01:44:00.000-05:00

So we made it to south Georgia and life looked somewhat different for us.

For starters, I went from a full time working Mom to a full time stay-at-home-HOMESCHOOLING Mom. I went from pining over never seeing my children to ~~pining over having them under my feet 24/7~~ having them with me all the time! Because we didn't know anyone, we went from having a rather full social calendar to enjoying quiet days together. Just the five of us. And it was.... nice. Very nice. It's like all the craziness, turmoil and stress of the prior year came to a screeching halt. The noise was all turned off and suddenly there was silence. And peace. And tranquility. And we got to know each other again.

We spent lazy days doing just what we wanted to do. Usually in bare feet.

We sort of fell in love with each other. All of us. All over again. Because we were all we had.

Looking back on our life that last year in Fairhope, I realize now that our family was falling apart. It's clear to me now that God needed to pick us up....move us....and then start to put us together again.

And that's just what he did. And that's probably why my prayers to stay there seemed to be unheard and unheeded.

And that was the answer to my Why?

Then, as is His way, He started blessing us in ways we don't deserve. We made some precious friends, found a wonderful church....

And then.

And then.....

Much unlike before when we had no choice or voice in the decision to pack up and move....recently we were faced with a most unexpected opportunity to move again. Much closer to "home." The Gulf Coast. Where we both spent our childhoods. Where we met and married. Where most of our memories were made. Where our roots run deep. And where we knew we always wanted to raise our family.

With heavy hearts and after much prayer and soul searching, we made the decision to leave this sweet, quiet and content life we were just starting to make here....and go home.

After struggling over whether we were making the right decision and not wanting to make any mistakes, and praying fervently for answers (and probably prodding God a little on how we wanted those answers to come), I had an epiphany...a revelation of sorts...and it came from Facebook of all places. How 21st century of God to speak to me in that way!

It was a friend's status one morning, and it came from a friend of hers who apparently was struggling over whether or not to take a new job. Her revelation was God saying (and I'm probably not quoting this just right...but here goes):

I created you for fellowship with me. Take any job you like.

I'll save my own commentary on what this meant to me for another post but let's just say it put everything in perspective and gave me peace that we really couldn't make the wrong decision. I became grateful for the year of rest, restoration and healing for our family. I began to get excited about what lies ahead for us. And I think that I (call me Peter here) felt God's hand reaching out, grabbing me saying "Oh ye of little faith....why did you doubt?"

...and when they climbed into the boat, the winds died down. (Matthew 14:30-32)

As we are now looking at another pile upon pile of boxes, another moving van, and another season of starting over from scratch... and getting ready to climb in that boat again.... we are doing so much stronger than last time. With greater faith. And with a greater appreciation for answered (and unanswered) prayers.

Of course you do realize....I may be clinging to that verse up there more than ever and looking for a real boat to climb into since we will close on our new house just three weeks before hurricane season begins.

Oy vey.

Another Moving Tale, Part 1

2011-04-19T01:32:00.000-05:00

A little more than a year ago I painfully watched as movers packed up my house in Fairhope and loaded a moving van bound for south Georgia. I looked on as they disassembled the baby bed where I'd laid each of my babies....as they moved toys out of the playroom where I'd helped little hands mold playdough and stack blocks....and before I knew it I was standing in an empty house, left with nothing but tears and memories....almost more than my heart could bear.

See, this move was not one of our making....or our choice.

In fact, we had no choice in it at all.   Things had happened....life had happened....and we were being sent down a road we would have never chosen to travel. As I closed the door behind me and pulled out of the driveway for the last time, my heart hurt so that my entire body ached, and the tears flowed so freely and profusely that I could hardly see to drive. I couldn't imagine what good might possibly lie ahead of those more than 300 miles we would be traveling to our new home in the next few days. I couldn't imagine that there would be laughter....joy....friendships....and cherished memories to make.   Because in my grief for what seemed lost forever, I couldn't see beyond....

Don't get me wrong....I knew that the most important, cherished and adored treasures on this earth were coming with me ( and I don't mean my luggage or my shoes).    I knew that as long as the five of us were together we would be fine. And I had a list a mile long of all I was grateful for ... It's not that. It's just that....I loved...and I mean loved....living in Fairhope. I had dreamed of living there for as long as I could remember, so as cliché and corny as it sounds, when we had the chance to move to that little Mayberry by the Bay in 2005 it was truly a dream come true.   I would have never left. Ever. Under any circumstances.

Well...Except one. (Turns out you actually have to have a job in order to make money and pay your mortgage to live in your house in your dream town. Who knew? So if your company eliminates your job and you don't have one anymore, you might have to leave your dream town and move (far) away to go to where the job is....in case you were wondering how that all works).

And when that happened it was like being hit upside the head with a 2 x 4 from behind while I was sitting peacefully and happily gazing out across Mobile Bay thinking "Life. Is. Good." (not that I've actually ever been hit upside the head with a large piece of wood but I can only imagine it felt something like this.)   That blow happened in early 2009 and was followed by a couple of other near knock-outs, all making for a very, very bad year. Very bad year indeed. And I asked more than once (usually on my knees)..."Dear Lord....where did this come from? And more importantly....Why? Why?"

I didn't have any of those answers as I signed (with tears streaming down my face) the closing papers on my sweet house...or withdrew my sad little kindergartner from his wonderful school and said goodbye to his beloved teacher...or crossed two state lines to meet the moving van at a strange new house in a strange new town where we didn't know a soul.

But God began to replace my questions with calm, my grief with peace, and continually assured me that He had gone before me and would be with me, that He would never leave or forsake me... and I had no reason to be afraid or discouraged. (Deut. 31:8). Even though I didn't know why, He did. And even though I'd been caught by surprise and hit from behind, He had not.

He knew this was coming.   And He knew where we were going.

And He was prepared.

...Stay tuned for Part 2

(this is kinda fun...like a mini-series. or a sequel. grab some popcorn and sweet tea and hurry back, y'all).

Trippin'

2011-03-22T02:19:00.000-05:00

So we took a quick trip last week back home to Alabama and the Gulf Coast. It worked out that my folks were here so they took the two oldest ones back with them and we followed later that afternoon with the little one.

JUST the little one.

It was amazing how fast I was able to get us packed, loaded and on the road. And even more amazing that I spent the better part of the trip facing forward. As opposed to crossing every state line with my rear end plastered on the windshield while I'm hanging over the back seat filling water cups, passing around some sort of cheesey sea life inspired crackers or swatting at unruly passengers.

But the most incredible thing, y'all, is how much room we had in that van after we loaded up our luggage. Room galore!

Part of it was because we only had this one small child with us. Part of it is because said one small child is the third and final small child for us and we've learned a lot in the past seven and a half years. A. Lot.

We were laughing remembering the first road trip we took with our then four-month-old firstborn. We were going to the mountains just north of Atlanta and we were going to be gone for about 5 days. Judging by our cargo, however, one would have surmised we were heading into a remote area of the north pole for the frozen season and the only way we would have access to food and various other sundries would be via air drop.

At that time our family truckster was a Subaru Outback. With plenty of room to pack for such a trip for a family of two and a quarter. But for some reason we felt the need to purchase a cargo carrier. To pack on top of the car what would not fit inside the car. These items included:

A pack-n-play, full size stroller, Baby Bjorn carrier, grocery cart seat cover, portable high chair (he wasn't sitting up yet but he might start while on the trip, you know), Bumbo seat, various collection of toys, plastic bathtub, various collection of bathtub toys, bottles, bottle warmer, bulk package of baby wipes, baby wipes warmer, bulk package of diapers, baby food (not sure he was eating solid foods yet but...again....you never know), white sound machine, aquarium crib toy, exersaucer, swing and clothing that spanned the seasons because you never know what the weather will be like.

And the thing is....we were never going to be less than five miles from a super Walmart.

Seriously? We were college educated people, y'all. Even then.

So the other day it was nothing to pack for us and number three. We threw a change of underwear and a piece of gum in a bag and left.

Awesome.

The Fake House

2011-03-05T12:47:00.000-06:00

So I'm not sure anyone has noticed but we haven't posted anything since Valentine's Day.

That was nearly three weeks ago.

When I realized how long it has been since I wrote anything...and how long it's been since I wanted to, I told Kim I wasn't sure I wanted to keep up this blog thing anymore.

First I thought I was just bored with it. Then I thought I just didn't have time for it. But then I saw that my heart didn't seem to be in it anymore. And not just writing on my own blog....but even reading some of the blogs I have followed for years. I think I finally figured out what it is.

I'm tired of creating the fake house.

And I'm tired of visiting the fake house.

You know what the fake house is....right? It's like when you know company is coming, so you run around like crazy cleaning....stowing and hiding all the clutter that normally fills your counters and causes you to trip coming in the front door. You put out the pretty white monogrammed guest towels and hide the ugly blue ones that don't match and look faded or stained. You light candles....turn on some cool background music....and use dishes that match and don't have Halloween pumpkins on them. In June.

We all do it. We know we do it. Yet when we go over to a friend's house for dinner and observe this scene we come home and feel grossly inadequate. Because we trip over four pairs of flip-flops when we walk through the door, we see an ugly, stained, faded (wet) towel thrown on our favorite chair and a stack of mismatched dirty pumpkin dishes in the sink. In June. There are no scented candles lit....just the aroma of wet dog. And the only background music we hear is the kids seeing who can yell "poop" the loudest.

And we think.....Ugh. Gross. How come my house can't look like "theirs?"

What am I doing wrong?

And it's the same with blogs.

We all do it. We know people are reading about our lives so we pick and choose what we share. We post the best pictures. Tell the best stories. Oh sure .... we tell a few "horror" stories that reflect a bit of life in the trenches of motherhood. But usually they are for the sake of comedy. Because they are funny and you really can't make that stuff up. But even those stories don't show what our lives are like on a daily basis.

Homeschool blogs are the worst.

Don't hang up on me yet. I'm just being honest.

You read someone's homeschool blog and they have pictures of their kids sitting sweetly, quietly and very still, reading books....or working on a project.....or drawing a masterpiece....or playing a musical instrument. And in that same post they share how they grind their own wheat, churn their own butter, sew their whole family's clothes, feed their kids steamed vegetables twice a day (and the kids LOVE them by the way), are multi-lingual and arrange all of their books according to the Dewey Decimal system. And you remember just a little earlier at your own "school" when your child fell out in the floor practically in convulsions because you told him to work on his math worksheet while you attempted to scrape dried oatmeal off of the breakfast dishes so you could throw some frozen chicken nuggets at them for lunch. You haven't had a shower and may or may not have brushed your teeth. Your laundry room looks like it could be featured on "Hoarders" and you can tell from three rooms away the dog has left you a nice present to clean up. Again. Awesome.

And you think....Ugh. Gross. How come my house can't look like "theirs?"

Look. I've done it too. In fact, I posted this picture on Facebook the other day.

I thought about doing a post on this blog about how it was Dr. Seuss's birthday so we had a big celebration.....had green eggs and ham for lunch....made all these wonderful crafts and then sat around studying Dr. Seuss's greatest works all day. Which we DID! Sort of. Truth is I didn't even think about it being Dr. Seuss's birthday until we picked the little one up at school and he had on his fancy hat and bowtie and I thought....well, crud. I didn't do anything all morning in our "school" except assign math worksheets that caused convulsions. So out of guilt, I ran in the store on the way home, bought some ham, came home and scrambled some eggs and made them look green with some spinach (hoping the kids would gobble them up and alleviate some guilt from feeding them frozen chicken nuggets for lunch every other day), quickly copied little one's hat and bowtie for the other two, took this picture, and then plopped them all in front of the Cat in the Hat MOVIE so I could get started on the laundry before the TLC crew showed up to film the next episode of Hoarders.

I'm serious, y'all!

Truth is, I try. Day in and day out I struggle to do it all. I try to be creative in my homeschooling. I try to keep a clean and tidy house. I try to cook homemade healthy meals for my family. I try to have us read more than we watch TV. I try to find my children's passions and encourage them. I try to find teachable moments in everything. I try to savor every moment I have with them, knowing how quickly the time passes. I try to live intentionally. I try to be gracious. Merciful. Kind. Loving. Resourceful and industrious. But what feels like more often than not, I fail. So I get up the next morning and I try again. And that, my friends, is what my life really and truly looks like on a daily basis. Trying, and trying, and trying.....and praying.....and praying harder.....and trying some more.

Who wants to read about that?

All this to say....I'm not sure about this blog thing. I'm not sure there's enough time in the day to continue to keep up the fake house, or keep peeking into others' houses (which may or may not be fake) and feeling generally bad about it.

Maybe we need to be more real and get out the ugly towels for each other sometimes.

What color are yours?

Sweet Home Alabama

2011-02-03T00:27:00.000-06:00

Even though Kim and I have been gone from Birmingham for nearly 9 years, we still have many friends there and Birmingham holds a special place in our hearts. In fact, we are planning a Mommy, Esq. retreat there sometime this spring and can't stop talking about all the places we will go and eat.

We're already fasting in preparation for such gluttony.

So...we were excited when the owner of this great website , Childcare Birmingham, contacted us to say hi and even more excited when they featured Kim's post from last summer about all the hot spots in Birmingham to hit with kids in tow.

If you live in the Birmingham area, be sure to check them out. And if you do live near the 'ham and are a Mommy, Esq., give us a shout out and meet us for a falafel at Nabeel's!

It's in the Eyes

2011-02-01T07:21:00.000-06:00

So I know a few posts back I talked about One Thousand Gifts by Ann Voskamp. If you're already reading it, you'll get what I'm about to say. If you aren't reading it yet, listen to me y'all....

read it. READ it. K?

Trust me.

As a friend of mine said when she started reading it...."she speaks to my heart."

I find myself reading and inside screaming "YES!" "Yes, Ann....YES!"

It's like Ann (again....speaking as if we are friends, which I feel like we would be if we could) found a way to put into words what we....what I.....what all of us as Moms....have felt. Dreamed of. Wanted. Strived for. Pursued. Cried over. Felt guilty about. Pined for. Celebrated.

Does that make any sense? Maybe not.

Listen to this .... from the book.....

The world I live in is loud and blurring and toilets plug and I get speeding tickets and the dog gets sick all over the back step and I forget everything and these six kids lean hard into me all day to teach and raise and lead and I fail hard and there are real souls that are at stake and how long do I really have to figure out how to live full of grace, full of joy - before these six beautiful children fly the coop and my mothering days fold up quiet? How do you open the eyes to see how to take the daily, domestic, workday vortex and invert it into the dome of an everyday cathedral?

Just. Wow.

Since I've been reading this book (and yes it's taking me much longer than usual....typically I devour books. This one is to be savored. Word. By. Word.) I've found that I look at things...at my life...differently.

Like last night. I was tired. It had been a long day. I didn't get a shower until a few minutes before my husband came home so I was clean and smelled good but u-u-ugly, know what I'm talking about? Not a dab of makeup, hair hastily pulled back in a ponytail and mismatched sweats on. With fuzzy socks. I'm not sure how he restrained himself when he walked in the door but I digress.

I was just tired. Laundry piled up, toys everywhere, kids running through the house chasing the dog, school books and papers strewn throughout the dining room, and a kitchen full of dirty dishes and we hadn't even eaten yet. And I was already exhausted. Bathtime, prayers and bedtime seemed a world away.

But as the buzzer went off on the dryer and I ran in to switch out the clothes, instead of dreading the folding and putting them away I found myself thinking, Oh thank you God that we have clothes! Look at all these socks and underwear my children have. And sweatshirts and pants. And t-shirts. And sweaters. They will never know what it is to be cold because they don't have something warm to put on. Thank you, thank you, thank you.

Then when I went into the kitchen to finish cooking, instead of focusing on the mess and all the work ahead of me in there, I thought, Oh but by the grace of God we have more food here in this kitchen than we could eat in the next month. Not only do we have simple sustenance, but we have what we want....what we crave....we are so blessed. So. Blessed.

See where this is going?

You don't think you can find a blessing in changing diapers? Ask the Mom who can't get out of bed to go to her crying baby and would give anything to change Just. One. More. Diaper. I know a beautiful and very real Mom like that. Her name is Katherine Wolf and you can read all about her here. Be inspired. And challenged.

Sometimes it's all in the way we see things. Sometimes there's nothing wrong with our eyes.

We just need to focus.

I'll be heading over here on Sunday.

I do hope I see you there.

Cold, Rainy Days

2011-01-25T05:59:00.000-06:00

... are the best.

There's just something about a cold, dreary day that makes me happy.

Is that odd?

I feel inspired. Creative. Encouraged.

Because I know that after the rain, comes the sun.

And after winter, comes spring.

Guaranteed.

No need to rush it. Or wish it away.

Rather, savor it. Fix yourself a cup of tea, light a fire (or at least a candle), get a good book, turn on some music....

and rest.

At my house we like to get out every sheet and blanket we can find and build a fort in the den. Sometimes we sit in the fort and eat popcorn. We're crazy like that.

We look forward to days like this. Because it's just not as much fun to build a fort in the den when the warm sunshine is beckoning you outside.

Days like this are a gift.

In more ways than one....

She's Eating My Words (and everything else)

2011-01-22T02:27:00.000-06:00

I said that nothing else was coming in our house that eats or poops.

She's eaten those words and spit them out.

She's learned to go outside to do her business. That's good!

But then she sometimes immediately does it again. Inside.

That's bad.

She chews up anything that isn't nailed down or doused with Tabasco sauce. A few recent casualties....an iPad cable, one Wii nunchuck, an SD card reader (no clue what that was but apparently was quite useful with video games and such), and one favorite pink polka dot flip flop.

That's bad.

But she has a sweet disposition, is highly agreeable, never whines, wags her tail when I put her food in front of her (eats every bite and never complains), sleeps all night and wipes her own bottom.

That's good!

(and more than I can say about some others in this house)

Randomness

2011-01-16T08:46:00.000-06:00

So yeah I took a little blogging break but enjoyed being a lurker on my own blog! Actually I took a mini cyber sabbatical and will probably do it again soon. After the holidays I just felt so bleh. I kept saying "I'm over it." Over. It. It being too much spending....too much eating....too much time wasting....too much, too much, too much. My brain, body, home and checking account were in overload.

All of a sudden I started focusing on all the junk in my life and in my home that needed to be tossed. I decided to de-tox. De-clutter. And de-stress.

I've been a busy girl.

So far I have a couple of closets and drawers that actually have free space. FREE SPACE, y'all. Do you know how good it feels to see an empty shelf in your closet? Or to be able to actually slide the hangers around, knowing that everything in there is actually something you wear on a regular basis???

I've also been baking again and looking for ways to make nearly everything from scratch that we consume. Remember our Christmas list and how I wanted this?

And this?

Well I got both for Christmas! And I love, love, LOVE my Kindle! I stayed in bed all day long about two weeks ago reading The Help. I'm about three years behind on my reading but if you are too, READ THIS BOOK. Especially if you're in bed sick all day. And you aren't sick, fake it to stay in bed all day and read it. I'd never do that of course. I'm just sayin'. Do whatcha gotta do.

As for the mixer, I've perfected my bread recipe and will post it soon. It's full of sunflower seeds, flaxseed and .....wait for it.... BROWN RICE ground up into flour. You will smile as your family devours it, knowing all the good stuff they're eating and they don't even know it. I'm a fan of trickery.

One last random thought for today before I go.

I used to have a policy that nothing, and I mean NOTHING, would be coming into this house again that requires feeding, watering and sanitation services.

So much for that policy. Look at this little Muppet.

Meet our new labradoodle.

We named her Cameron. The die hard Auburn fan I'm married to calls her Cam. And our smallest two legged baby calls her Camnewton. It just rolls out like that....Camnewton.

War Eagle, y'all.

The Official Mommy, Esquire's Christmas List

2010-12-15T01:01:00.000-06:00

Because we feel we've been pretty darn good this year, we feel rather strongly that we should get some good stuff this year. The Mommies, Esquire got together and talked about what we really want for Christmas and discovered that not everything can be easily gotten and stuck under the tree. Nevertheless, here's our list we sent to the Big Guy in the Red Suit....

Kim's List~

1. A nap.

Don't think I"m joking. Don't think that I could just get a nap whenever I want. I live in a house with three little boys and one really big boy. They are loud and don't care if I get sleep. Sleep is not important to them. I think I'm the only one in my family (other than the 3 year old...and that is coming to an end, I fear) who requires more than 6 hours of sleep a night. I ask for this for my birthday, Mother's Day, Easter, 4th of July....you name a holiday and I'm asking for a nap. I don't mean a cat nap. And I don't mean a nap after church because that usually entails my husband deciding to take a nap, too. And that means that I have to share the bed with him...which I don't mind....but, a girl needs some recouperative sleep from time to time. I mean the kind of nap where no one is at home. I am free to lie down in my bed. All. By. Myself. And. Sleep. Yes, that would be lovely. ((sigh))

2. A pair of "non-Mom" jeans.

I would love to find a pair of jeans that fit above the waist to hide muffin-top, but something that doesn't look like "Mom Jeans." It is totally impossible to find. Seriously. After three c-sections, I would like to find jeans that don't ride down my butt....'cause Momma lost her backside years ago. Lordy. Lordy. Lordy. If anyone finds these "miracle jeans"...let me know. 'Cause I plan to buy a pair in every shade.

3. A live in nanny/housekeeper.

Oh, heck. I need a wife. Just make her ugly 'cause I've heard too many horror stories about the cute nanny who later takes over other "duties." Ever saw that movie, "Hand that Rocks the Cradle?" 'Nuff said.

4. Oil paintings of my children.

Sound really retro? Well, that's me. It's a dream of mine to have oils done of the boys. I would love this. Santa, do you hear me? However, I think this would require my children to pose...sit still...etc. Uh, maybe not?

5. A cure for cancer.

Cancer is of the devil. I hate cancer. I think that it sucks. It is number one on my list. However, I know that it's not something that Santa can put under the tree. It is a prayer of mine that God will see that the end to cancer is in sight. It's a prayer I make daily along with praying that I will be disease and cancer free...and that God will heal a family member and make her cancer-free. I hate it. I really do.

Julie's list ~

1. Home Alone 5

The Georgia sequel. I would love to be left completely alone, in my own house, for more than an hour. I would take a nap. A long, leisurely bath. I'd watch something other than Ben 10, football, Little Einsteins or Strawberry Shortcake. For dinner I would make a thin crust spinach and feta pizza and have a glass of chardonnay. I would curl up in front of the fire and read one of the 35 books that have been stacked at my bedside for a year. I'd go to sleep at 9 and sleep until I wake up on my own. Then I'd go for a run. Or a bike ride. Or a leisurely walk. And then I'd be missing that part of my heart that aches when I'm away from them for more than 24 hours. But I'd sure enjoy it up until that point!

2. A Kitchen Aid Mixer

Ok so this is much more realistic than wish #1. I love to bake, and cook, and I do it all from scratch. And I'm still using the same little hand mixer we got as a wedding gift 14 years ago. And one of the beaters falls off every time I'm in the middle of something, so I have to reach into the batter or dough and fish it out and try to reattach it. Ick. Santa, please.

3. Scrapbook Elves

I wish some little elves would come along and organize all of my photos from the past seven years and put them in scrapbooks. I have all the supplies. And all the photos. I just don't have the time. No, I take it back. I had the time to do my oldest child's scrapbook. I started on the middle child's but I don't think I've even taken any pictures of the last child. Maybe I'll just start now saving for his therapy.

4. A Kindle.

I can't believe I actually want this. I love, love, LOVE my books. I love the feel of a book....the smell....I love flipping over a few pages because I'm so anxious to find out what happens. When I was in law school, electronic research was just taking off but I rebelled as long as possible because I loved to sit in the law library with stacks of case books spread around me. I really do hate technology sometimes. I hate it....but I love it. Because it does make life easier and more convenient. And the thought that I could have all my beloved books on one little gadget that could stay tucked away in my purse and brought out at any time I find myself with a spare moment to myself (hahahaha....as if).....well, that's somewhat appealing to this busy Mama.

5. A Personal Assistant

I think I want Kim's ugly wif'e's ugly sister. Would that make us in-laws?

Merry Christmas, y'all!

Why I'm Crazy

2010-12-14T05:57:00.000-06:00

Conversation with my five-year-old:

Me: Time to take your nap. You need to go potty first?

Her: (in whiney voice) What did you say?

Me: Time to take your nap. C'mon.

Her: Nooooo.....before that.

Me: Nothing. I said c'mon...time for nap.

Her: (now in whinier voice) Yes. You. Did. What did you saaaaaaay?

Me: I didn't say anything except (1) time for nap and (2) asked you if you need to go potty.

Her: (shrill whiney voice) You said something! (Doubling over). I heard you! What did you SAAAAAAAAAAY?

Me: (louder) Time. For. A. Nap. Go. Potty. Those are the only two things I said related to this nap. I didn't say anything else. That's it. I didn't utter any other words that could be mistaken for anything else. Nap. And potty. THAT'S IT. Now go take your nap!

Her: (voice now sounding like fingernails on a chalkboard) But I heaaaaaaard you say something. You said something else. What was it? (crying now) Why won't you tellllllll me?

Me: OH MY FREAKIN' HECK YOU ARE DRIVING ME CRAZY!!!!

Just kidding....I didn't say that.

What I actually said was #*(!* $*()#@ @&*(# !)(*#^@.

Just kidding. Didn't curse either (at least not out loud).

Actually I stood there and just stared at this beautiful, precious angel who I would give my life for in a split second without thinking twice but wondered how something so precious can make me crazier than a hit dog?

Ya know?

Not a Creature Was Stirring....

2010-12-13T06:44:00.000-06:00

not even a mouse.

Bahahaha. Fat chance in this house!

There's always something stirring. Especially at Christmastime.

So today was our annual invasion of Christmas mice. This is so much fun! A little creepy to have row after row of chocolate varmints with evil red eyes. But it's a tradition around here.

If you want to make yer own rodents, here's how you do it.

Ingredients: (makes about 35 mice)

One bag of semi-sweet chocolate chips

Bag of Hershey kisses

Two jars of cherries with stems

Sliced almonds

Red food coloring gel

Fudge mint cookies

Instructions:

Melt chocolate chips in a glass bowl in microwave. Add a splash of oil (I used canola) as you stir the melted chocolate. This will make it smooth enough for dipping. Peel your Hershey kisses and put them in a bowl. Drain the cherries and put them in a bowl or colander. Empty the almonds into a bowl. Spread the cookies out on a wax paper lined cookie sheet. Once you have your assembly line formed, you're ready.

Make sure the three-year-old is happily watching Dora's Christmas party. Invite the seven-year-old and the five-year-old to help you until they start to get on your nerves or eat all the kisses, in which case send them off to clean up their rooms with the threat that Santa will leave them switches and coal if they don't.

Dip a cherry in the melted chocolate and place on the flat end of a kiss and place it on a cookie. This is the mouse's body. I had time to do all the mice before I started on the ears, but you want to get the ears done before the chocolate starts to set.

For the ears, use two sliced almonds. I like to break them in two, otherwise the ears tend to look like bunny ears. And that's the wrong holiday, folks. We'll do those in the spring. K?

Use the red gel to make the eyes and the nose.

Like so.

We also had some blue and yellow gel. Catherine decided to give her mouse blue eyes and blonde hair. She named her Elizabeth.

I wasn't emotionally involved enough to name the other 34 mice. Besides, they won't be around after tomorrow when Stuart's three-year-old preschool class gets their little hands on them.

Because I am sooooooo not crafty and soooooo not Martha Stewart, but because you might be slightly impressed with the little mouse cuties, I thought I'd also share my holiday table creation I made with a few items from the dollar store and some twigs and berries.

Silver spray-painted walnuts in a bowl. Some twigs from the yard spray-painted white and some little white paper ball ornaments from the dollar store in a couple of dollar vases filled with white (probably poisonous) berries from a tree in my front yard.

Good things y'all. Good things.

Get Out! Get In! No...Get OUT!

2010-11-25T05:24:00.000-06:00

When I was a kid....well more like a teenager and on into college...Thanksgivings in my house went something like this...

Let me see if I can paint a picture for you.

My mom would have a list a mile long of things to cook and bake and things to be done. Chopping of vegetables, shredding of cheeses, crushing of nuts (read that how you will)....I know you know the scene. Mom would have several pots going at once, the turkey in the oven and a pile of ingredients on the counter with a slew of recipes slung across the kitchen.

I'd be sitting there watching the Macy's parade, drinking my coffee and she'd yell "GET IN HERE AND HELP ME! I NEED SOME HELP!"

So I'd come running. And I'd start chopping. Shredding. Or Crushing. And she'd start yelling "YOU'RE MAKING A MESS....THAT'S NOT HOW YOU DO IT!" Then, inevitably.....

"OH JUST GET OUT! I'LL DO IT MYSELF!"

So I'd leave. But not before warming up my coffee and grabbing a magazine on the way out.

And I'd sit for about three minutes before I'd hear again....

"HEY!" "GET IN HERE! I'LL NEVER GET ALL THIS DONE! I NEED SOME HELP!"

So I'd schlep back in and get a new set of instructions.

Three...two....one....

"Oh good grief. What are you doing to those nuts? I've never seen anyone treat pecans like that. My pie will be a wreck. I'll do it myself. JUST GET OUT! I'll crush my own nuts."

Sigh.

Sweet memories.

I'm getting all verklempt just thinking about it.

I'm back home this year but I helped out a WHOLE LOT by taking my three kids away from the house yesterday so Mom could get everything done. It was my major contribution to this year's feast!

Here's hoping your Thanksgiving is filled with good food, sweet family and finely crushed nuts!

What Do Hog Scalders and Owl Pellets Have In Common?

2010-11-04T10:58:00.000-05:00

Both played an important role in our second day of madness and mayhem in the mountains!

Best to recap the day in pictures.....

First we headed over to Mountain City, Ga to the Foxfire museum and heritage center. We started out hiking up a trail to visit some pre-civil war cabins.

Apparently we weren't very subtle. Because these people here came up about the same time we did and set out on the same tour as us....but they took off down a different trail quickly and we never saw them again.

Their loss. Because they could have seen how a hog scalder really works. We had the perfect candidate to re-enact the scene for us at the first cabin.

[caption id="attachment_2354" align="alignnone" width="199" caption="Stuart standing in a hog scalder. He ain't skeered."][/caption]

Next we found the chapel. A place for peaceful, quiet reflection.

Isn't it sweet? Doesn't it seem to invite quiet meditation? Only problem was, it had a bell. With a long rope. And six kids who couldn't get enough of the sound.

We also found a garden. And promptly trampled through it. It's probably been around since @1820. And will never be the same again....

So then it was time to leave. We started out down the trail and this was our view looking down. See that little one all the way down there.... ?? Yes, he is doing exactly what it looks like he's doing.

We couldn't make this stuff up if we tried.

And as if that wasn't all enough excitement for us....

We came home and dissected owl pellets.

AKA, owl poop....owl vomit. Doesn't really matter which end of the owl it came from. All that matters is that we dug through it to see what the owl ate.

All in a day's work.

Deliverance: Revisited

2010-11-02T09:29:00.000-05:00

Kim:

Julie graciously invited me and my boys to her father's cabin for a week. A week of what?

Rest?

Relaxation?

Nope on both counts. We were to bring all six of our kids. The plan was to do some "school" and have a week long field trip...and visit with each other after not seeing each other since law school graduation in 2002. However.....

I should've known when Julie told me that this "cabin chalet" wouldn't show up on GPS, I was in trouble. I also had some inkling we were "done for" when Julie also told me we would be in the location where the movie, Deliverance, was filmed some many years ago. She also told me that if I needed her "help up the mountain" to call her....if I still had cell phone reception.

Uh.....

I survived the trip to the cabin, despite two kids puking in the back of the van and one screaming.

Julie and I have big plans for this week.

Today was DAY ONE. I had this big plan for all of us to do some "homeschoolin'" out at Unicoi State Park. I found out that the kids could go on a nature field trip while on a hike through the woods, learn something...and get an official badge courtesy of the National Parks.

Not everyone was in the mood to hike.

However, we managed to earn some very cool Junior Ranger badges and meet a very nice forest ranger named Smith. Of course, we ended the day with a trip to the grocery store for more Little Debbie Snack Cakes because Julie feeds her kids all organic food and Dollar General for some cap guns because we don't have enough mayhem.

On the agenda for tonight? Roasting hot dogs over an open flame (Lord, please watch over us 'cause we're insane) and making S'mores (more nutritious food) before putting all of the children in bed by 7:00... no that's too early....7:30 p.m.

Julie:

I'll quickly recap the day from my perspective:

5:00 am wake-up call from four boys playing "war" upstairs.

Breakfast of champions: pop-tarts and capri suns.

Unicoi State Park excursion....let's just say there was so much madness around us that we didn't even notice the random kid in the red jacket who joined our group. Six kids? Seven kids? Whatever.

[caption id="attachment_2341" align="alignnone" width="300" caption="Whose kid is this????"][/caption]

Induction into the Jr. Ranger program....

We asked the Ranger....or the Power Ranger as the kids kept calling him.....to take a picture with all of us. He promptly left and went into counseling.

Oh...did I mention he gave the kids snake skins?

Excellent.

The best part of the day though....while Kim went into the grocery store I sat in the car watching the two van fulls of (thank you Lord) napping children. I looked up to find the Starbucks worker standing at the window delivering me a latte. Compliments of the other half of Mommy, Esq.

What a friend.

What a week. And it's only been one day!

24

2010-11-02T02:25:00.000-05:00

Location: middle of nowhere, N.Ga. mtns. The Mommies, Esq. are together again...after eight long years. The last time we saw each other we were each 20 lbs., two minivans and three kids lighter.

Some numbers from the past 24 hrs include:

Six children under seven in one small cabin.

One child with strep throat.

Two children with car sickness puking all the way from TN to GA.

Five boys playing war at 5 am this morning.

Two dear friends chatting over a glass (or two or five) of wine until into the night.

It's loud. It's crazy. It's madness and mayhem.

It's wonderful.

White Trash Monday

2010-10-25T11:46:00.000-05:00

Today was a weird day. We did a field trip to the pumpkin patch. After a sleepless night and a tiring morning picking pumpkins and swatting gnats (gotta love living below - or is it above - the gnat line? whatever it is...they are pesky and persistent and as annoying as bamboo shoots under your fingernails), this Mama was toast.

So after "quiet time" (aka mommy-needs-a-short-nap-time) I made a sweet latte and sat on the porch while the kids played in the backyard and pondered what to fix for dinner.

Daddy was working late and wouldn't be home so it was the perfect night for something kid friendly. In other words, something gross and borderline offensive.

I came up with the perfect recipe. My kids love corn dogs. Which I refuse to buy in the store and only let them have when we occasionally fast-food-it. But I had some hot dog weiners (gross). Nitrate-free mind you, making them only mildly gross. And some cornbread fixins, giving this recipe the June Cleaver stamp of approval.

Corn Dog Casserole, y'all

2 cups cornmeal

2 cups flour

1 tbsp sugar

1 tbsp baking powder

1 tsp salt

2 eggs

1 1/4 cup milk

1 tbsp oil

1 cup grated cheddar cheese

4 hot dog wieners (can't even type this without laughing)

Preheat oven to 425. Mix dry ingredients together. In separate bowl, beat milk, eggs, and oil and add to dry ingredients, stirring until well mixed. Stir in cheese. Put hot dog wieners in baking dish, pour cornbread mix over wieners and bake for about 20 minutes or until it looks done!

This is what the finished product looks like:

As is our usual custom, I texted Kim with a picture of this lovely creation after talking to her earlier when she told me it made her want to gag just thinking about it....but when I told her how the kids sounded like Cookie Monster devouring it, she changed her tune.

Somewhat.

She told me I needed to serve it with a salad made from iceberg lettuce with small pieces of chopped up tomato and mayo for dressing, red jello for dee-sert and red kool-aid stirred with my bare hand in a large mason jar.

Little does she know that exact dinner menu will be waiting for her next Monday night when she arrives at the cabin.

To Meet a Princess....

2010-10-22T06:48:00.000-05:00

Survivor ~ Disney

2010-10-21T06:14:00.000-05:00

Whew!

We're back. We survived! Not necessarily un-scarred (emotionally speaking). But we survived!

Still trying to come up for air from all the laundry and unpacked suitcases...and will have more stories and pictures forthcoming....but wanted to share my favorites so far.

We convinced the three-year-old to ride a roller coaster. It was a mini coaster...but a roller coaster nonetheless. Actually I convinced him. His mother. The one he trusts (or trusted, rather) more than anyone else.

It will be fun! I'll be right there with you. We'll ride together. You'll love it! I promise.

So we stood in line. And he counted my teeth.

We....well, he, actually....thought it was a fun game. I thought it was kinda gross considering his little hands had just touched every ride in Fantasyland and he was probably depositing some influenza germs in my mouth. But. Whatever. He was happy. And sometimes that's all that matters.

We settled into our little car on Goofy's mini coaster ride. He still wasn't sure he would like it. He asked if it was scary. Nah, I said. Nothing scary at all about this little old ride.

This is the before picture.

This is the "after" picture. After he caused what could be a permanent hearing loss in me and the unfortunate passengers on our ride.

From the moment the coaster started moving he buried his head under my arm and screamed like he'd just encountered Freddie Krueger in a dark forest with the hockey mask and an ice pick.

He didn't speak to me for the next two hours.

Good times.

Making memories, y'all. It's what it's all about.....

Disney Bound

2010-10-12T07:03:00.000-05:00

So we're leaving tomorrow morning for Disney World. Our first trip with children. We promised them when the last one got potty trained, we'd go. In fact, it's how we potty trained the last one. We told him that Mickey doesn't like diapers in his clubhouse. And Mommy was sick to death of changing them and Daddy was going broke. But Mickey was his motivation.

The pot of gold at the end of the pot...I mean....rainbow....was a trip to the big DW.

Somehow we've managed to keep it all a secret though. They think we are leaving tomorrow to go with Daddy on a work trip.

I couldn't be more excited if tomorrow was Christmas morning and I still believed in Santa.

I've put together a series of clues to send them on a scavenger hunt tomorrow when they wake up. At the end they will find a letter from Mickey along with t-shirts and some other fun treats.

We're staying at the Nickelodeon hotel which we've heard is an adventure in and of itself....apart from Disneyworld. My ~~cheap~~ thrifty husband even suggested we just stay at the hotel the whole time and tell them it is the magic kingdom. Just think of how much we'd save on tickets!

Kind of like how we used to take our beach vacations every year at a resort with a big water slide and lazy river at the pool....we told the kids that was the big water park at the beach all their friends raved about. They never knew the difference. Somehow I think they'd suspect something if we tried to pull the same stunt in Orlando.

I can't wait to see the look on my girl's face when she sees her favorite Princess. Or baby boy's when he sees the Little Einsteins. Or Daddy's when he sees the price of tickets.

Should be priceless.

Nature Walk Redeemed

2010-10-04T12:26:00.000-05:00

So about a month ago, my oldest son started begging to go on a nature walk to the "story tree." He had discovered said tree on a nature walk with a neighbor who led him across the golf course to a giant oak tree with low limbs on which little boys could climb....and listen to stories, assuming there is a story teller present.

So on our inaugural quest to discover the story tree, I set out with all three of my children on a steaming, humid, south Georgia morning....story book for reading, blanket for sitting, and water for hydrating. It seemed like a grand plan. Until we got lost. Something like three miles from home. And it was hotter than hades, the three-year-old got a sore foot and had to be carried, the five-year-old got a whiney, annoying attitude and had to be ~~beat with a yardstick~~ ignored, and we all had to be rescued by one of the groundskeepers who happened upon us just prior to my collapse and gave us a ride home in his golf cart.

Whew.

After that episode I texted Kim with a picture of my motley crew after our failed expedition and entitled it "When Nature Walks Turn Evil."

But today....

Oh today.

It was a cool, beautiful fall morning. The birds were singing. The sun was peaking over the tree tops. And the story tree was calling our names, save the three-year-old who was away at preschool.

~~Hallelujah!!!!~~

Darn.

Anyway....

This morning we had no problem finding the tree.

Instead of water we took hot chocolate.

We decided it was Silly Sock day, to go along with Story tree day....in celebration of the letter "s." So we (well, they...) wore silly socks.

See?

Speaking of attire....

One of us took the sudden burst of cooler air to an extreme....one would have thought it was snowing from her wardrobe selection.

Then three minutes later she was barefoot.

One of the great things about fall in the south.

True to its name, the tree inspired us to read stories.

And just enjoy being together. In the quiet of the morning.

Until our quiet was interrupted by technology. Grrrr. I would have left it at home....

except I'm still having flashbacks from our near demise during the last nature walk and I wanted to make sure I could call 911 and get us life flighted out if need be.

Remind Me Again....(quick)....

2010-09-29T06:56:00.000-05:00

Kim and I text each other frequently during the day....in fact, it's a good thing I followed her advice and got the texting plan of a fifteen-year-old girl because my phone sounds like a symphony many afternoons during what all Moms know as the "witching hour".

For homeschool Moms though, sometimes we have witching days...sometimes on end. Like when the only real break we get from our children is when we lock ourselves in the bathroom and pretend to have a bad case of dysentery. It's days like that when, as soon as I run in the bathroom, shut the door and turn on the faucet to drown out the whining and fighting, I text Kim with "Quick....remind me again WHY IN THE NAME OF ALL THINGS GOOD AND HOLY WE DECIDED TO HOMESCHOOL?????"

Sometimes she gives me a good reason. Sometimes she tells me to pack them a lunch and a notebook and meet the first cheesewagon that rounds the corner.

And then sometimes I come out to find this.

And I quickly text her back....

Nevermind.

There's a Reason They're Called CRACKers

2010-09-21T07:58:00.000-05:00

We went to a party last weekend and I decided to take an appetizer. A simple meat and cheese tray. With a side of special crackers. And these crackers are indeed special, my friends.

It's one the craziest recipes I've ever seen. I started making these last year around the holidays, and they were so good, and everyone went so crazy over them, that I gave them as Christmas presents.

I'm not kidding.

Forget iPhones/Pads, Tickle-Me Elmos, zhu-zhu pets, silly bands or a Wii. They have nothing on these crackers.

And because you're some of my closest friends, and because I'm in a sharing mood, here it is. Enjoy!

Spicy CRACKer Recipe

1 box saltines (I think multi-grain work best)

1 cup vegetable oil

1 package ranch dressing mix

1 tbsp dill weed

1 tbsp red pepper flakes

1 tsp garlic powder

Open the whole box of crackers and dump them in a 2 gallon zip loc bag (a 1 gallon will be too small at this point) or a very large bowl. Mix oil and remaining ingredients together and pour over crackers, gently tossing to coat. (note...once all crackers are coated you can fit them all in a 1 gallon bag). Continue gently tossing bag or stirring crackers if using a container for about 24 hours. OR...if you can't wait that long....spread crackers on cookie sheets and bake in oven at lowest temperature for about an hour, stirring a couple of times.

You will look like this while you're eating them ~

And like this when they're all gone ~

Add Hairdresser To My Duties

2010-09-17T12:59:00.000-05:00

...because I didn't have anything to do this afternoon and was bored.

Riiiiiiiiight.

Actually, cutting her hair on the back porch is easier than loading all three kids in the car, schlepping out to find someone to cut it and wrangling the other two while she melts down in the stylist's chair. Been there, bought the t-shirt.

So she wanted to get her hair did and this is what we ended up with.

If you look closely it does sort of look like she stuck her head through a barbed wire fence and let a goat chew off the ends.

But she's happy. And that's all the matters in our world. 'Cause when the five-year-old's happy, we're allllllll happy.

Ya hear me?

The Tree Hugger

2010-09-10T08:40:00.000-05:00

There once was a boy who loved to climb trees.

So he ran outside in his pajamas one September morning (with the faintest hint of fall in the air)...

climbed his favorite tree....

and told the tree how much he loved it.

The End.

Y'all go to bed, now.

Say It Ain't So

2010-09-09T13:50:00.000-05:00

If someone tells you that they saw my sweet family at the local Mexican restaurant last weekend don't believe them. It probably wasn't us.

Especially if they tell you our darling three-year-old got a chip stuck in his throat and screamed bloody murder for ten solid minutes while everyone in the restaurant stopped talking to stare at us trying to figure out whether he (a) had been attacked by a swarm of killer bees, (b) was suddenly possessed by demons or (c) was choking (he was screaming....duh)....

Then if they tell you that he stuck his own finger down his throat and made himself throw up all over himself, the booth, the family order of cheese dip and my new dress before we were smart enough to run to the bathroom, tell 'em they must be telling a story....

That kind of thing would never happen to us.

Never.

Project Runway Kindergarten Style

2010-09-07T12:12:00.000-05:00

If you send a five-year-old to her room for two hours, she might have a pair of scissors.

And if she has a pair of scissors, she might use them to remove the top layer of her princess nightgown.

And if she removes the top layer of her princess nightgown, she might attach it to a cleverly constructed princess hat made from a piece of white paper and colored with a pink crayon.

And you might have a hard time getting mad at her because....well....it was pretty clever.

And she's so darned cute.

And, after all, she's the one who has to wear the cut up nightgown, not you.

And...who knows....she might be famous one day.

Surviving Three in Three

2010-08-24T08:33:00.000-05:00

So my sister-in-law just gave birth to a beautiful baby boy...her third in a little more than as many years. Both of the Mommies, Esquire had three babies in three and a half years. And have lived to tell about it ("live" being a relative term of course).

I posted on my sis-in-law's facebook page the other day that I would offer advice but I honestly don't remember much of those first days/weeks/months home after number three's arrival. I'm still suffering from post traumatic stress disorder.

So I went back to my old blog and found my first entry after coming home with Thing Three. It made me laugh. And gave me flashbacks. And sent me back to corner rocking back and forth chanting I Will Survive.

Until I realized that....I did!

Thought you might enjoy this little trip down memory lane with me....

FRIDAY, APRIL 27, 2007

Welcome to the Jungle

Didn't think I'd have a spare second to blog again for another 3 years but a small window has opened up and I wanted to share about our homecoming. First of all, the nurse came into my room yesterday morning and cheerfully said "You ready to go home? We can discharge you anytime this morning." I burst into tears. I looked at my tray of food they had just brought me, Regis and Kelly on the TV, and the trail of the bassinet as the nursery was taking him back until the next feeding. Can I get a late checkout, I asked? We managed to stay until lunch.

We walked in the door of the house, with a screaming hungry baby. I immediately took him into our room to feed him but forgot to lock the doors and push chairs under them to keep everyone out. Within moments of settling down to nurse my newborn as I'd done the past 2 days, William came rushing in, then Catherine after him, and then Psycho Dog. They all jumped up on the bed and William started showing me his new new trick, which was doing summersaults across the bed and landing with his feet in Stuart's face. Catherine kept patting the baby on the head, yelling over and over "sweet baby." And Psycho Dog was trying to dig out a spot under the pillow on which the baby was resting his head.

Oh Lord....hep me, hep me please.

Desperately Seeking Hazel...Or Alice

2010-08-20T05:12:00.000-05:00

So I have a sweet girl who cleans my disaster of a house every other week. We can do a lot of damage in the 13 days she isn't here.

A day or so before she comes I usually break out in a cold sweat. Because my house is a wreck. A dirty, stinkin' wreck. Like pigs have been camping out. It's just embarrassing. So I start getting ready for her at least 24 hours prior to her arrival.

I start cleaning.

Whaaaaaat?

Seriously! I start cleaning my house. Because I don't want her to see how we really live. Like pigs.

Not only do I start cleaning to get ready for her to get here and start cleaning, but I usually meet her at the door apologizing because our house is such a wreck.

Whaaaaaat??????

But she can't understand me because she doesn't speak English. So I say it slowwwwwly....and LOUDLY....as if she is deaf.

"I AM SOOOOOO SORRY.....THE... PLACE.... IS.... EL.... WRECKO!"

To which she sweetly laughs and goes about her business of trying to put us back together again for another two weeks.

What I really need is a Hazel. Or an Alice. To follow us around with a vacuum cleaner and a toxic waste disposal container and keep us straight. And grocery shop. And cook. And run errands and keep us stocked up on toilet paper and toothpaste. And help discipline the children. And do flashcards and math drills. And feed the dog. Oh the poor dog. Don't even get me started....

Forget the housekeeper.

What I really need is a wife.

Celebrity Email!

2010-08-19T01:02:00.000-05:00

Check it out, y'all.

I got an email from the Chairman of the Federal Reserve...Mr. Ben s. (lowercase) Bernanke himself!

I am a little confused though because (a) I really don't know Mr. Bernanke well enough for him to call me "dear", (b) I have no idea what I will do with 10.5 million dollars once I send all my personal information to him and (c) the return email address is gladysnroyp@aol.com .

AOL? Not GOV?

Maybe Gladysnroyp is his pet name? I dunno.

Am a little disappointed though. Would have thought someone in Mr. Bernanke's position would at least know when and how to use capital letters, proper verb tense and punctuation. Not to mention avoid run-on sentences.

Sheesh!

Guess he wasn't homeschooled.

Anyway....here it is! I think I will frame it. After I cash the check. First things first you know.

U.s bank Federal Reserve board

Address: 33, Liberty Street, new York, NY 10038

Contract fund credit from bank federal reserve board.

Attn: valued fund beneficiary,

my dear, this is to notify you today dated 19th June, 2010 that we received a valued amount of fund to credit instruction from the federal government of Nigeria bank by (cbn) to credit your account with your full inheritance fund sum of us$10.5million from the Nigerian federal reserve account with our bank federal reserve board in new York.

However, what we required from you is your full banking details where you want your fund to be transferred.

{1}. your full name and address:

{2}. your telephone or cell phone, and fax number

for easy communication:

{3). your bank name and address:

{4). your a/c name and numbers:

(5). your swift code / routing numbers:

(6). your occupation:

(7). your id or international passport copy.

(8). your alternative email:

Be informed that transfer will commence immediately we hear from you with the account information. Once more, bank federal reserve board will not hesitate to credit your account within 24hours in accordance with fund

Release order regulations.

Your immediate response is highly needed to enable us commence for the transfer.

Thanks for banking with Federal Reserve Bank while we looking forward to serving you better.

Congratulation to your inheritance fund!

Thanks and god bless you.

Best regards,

Mr. Ben s. bernanke

(Chairman)

Federal Reserve Bank New York.

2010-08-18T08:51:00.000-05:00

Some of our latest favorite things!

Says Julie:

~When I was in New York a few weeks ago I happened upon the most delightful little french bath shop in Greenwich Village. They had a lovely sink in the middle of the store where you could sample some of the products. After traipsing up and down the streets of the Big Apple all day and riding the fluway all over the city , my tired germ infested hands welcomed the chance for a scrub down and lotion application.

Oh. My. Goodness.

My hands felt like buttah. And I smelled so good when I walked out of there I'm surprised I didn't get a few marriage proposals as I made my way down the street.

I couldn't leave that place without ~~going broke~~ bringing some of the magic home with me.

~My next favorite new thing is this darling little stack of retro flash cards I ordered from Pretty Little Studio. They have the cutest collection of flash cards, tags, labels, etc. Since we are learning our ABC's in homeschool kindergarten, and since I will be drilling these cards with my darling five-year-old ad nauseum, I wanted something that makes me happy.

And Isabel Ironing her Shirt for "I" makes me very happy for some reason.

Hey, when you're homeschooling you try to find your zen wherever you can.

~Artisan bread in five minutes a day!

Liberty, one of our BFF's over at 16 Balls in the Air, told me that making homemade bread this way was easier than throwing everything in my bread machine and flipping a switch. Yeah. Ok. What....ever.

I felt brave and homestead-ish one day and decided to try it.

And guess what? She was right! And it's delicious! And my house smells like a Sunbeam bakery.

If you have no idea what I'm talking about...check it out here. And get busy bakin' y'all! You know you knead some homemade bread.

Sorry. Couldn't resist.

~My new 50mm/1.8 lens for my camera!

I have been wanting this little lens for a year now and never could bring myself to buy it for myself. It's not that it's very expensive (in fact...for the lens....it's really a bargain!). It's just that I suppose I'd rather spend all my money on bath salts. So I hoped that someone would pick up on one of the hints I've been dropping for months now and buy it for me.

And he did! The man really does listen to me! In fact, he gave it to me sitting at the airport waiting to board the plane for New York. So I immediately replaced my old lens with my new one and snapped this picture. Because I was excited. And because he's so handsome.

But I guess I was too excited to hold still so it turned out blurry.

I had calmed down a little a few days later and snapped this one of the same cute guy. My camera likes him a lot!

_____________________________________________________

Says Kim:

My favorite things? Well, here they are...in no particular order:

Mary Jane's Farm Magazine: I anticipate the arrival of the this magazine with the same excitement that my grandmother used to talk about her excitement over the arrival of the Sears catalog when she was a girl. I love this magazine. It is pure eye candy for the lovers of all things organic and agregarian. I want to live out on a farm like Mary Jane Butters and decorate my old farmhouse with flea market finds and primitive furniture.   I sent Julie a year subscription for her birthday. It's so good that I knew she'd love it like I do.

Good Instructional Art Books for Children like: Drawing with Children by Mona Brookes and Discovering Great Artists by MaryAnn F. Kohl & Kim Solga

I can't emphasize enough how important I think learning to create with purpose is to a child. My boys like learning how to actually draw things, people, animals.   They also like to know about artists like da Vinci, Michelangelo, Degas, Matisse, etc.   These are two books that I cannot live without. I love them!

Candles: I cannot live in a home without candles.   Maybe it's my Episcopal upbringing...all that candlelight and incense. I don't know. I adore burning them day and night. What kind do I favor? Easy. Trapp Candle #13 - Bob's Flower Shop. Yankee Candles - Sparkling Lemon or Lavender. Target brand candles - Lavender. Soy Candles - Lavender. See a pattern, here?

Kiss My Face Lotion:   I adore this lotion in the hippiest of all scents....Peaceful Patchouli. Yes, I like the hippy dippy smell of patchouli. I'm probably the only person born after 1969 that likes that smell and actually takes a big whiff when I walk into a health food store. This lotion is the bomb. It moisturizes my skin and I lurve it.

Good Earth Pottery: I love pottery. I wish I had a whole set of this stuff. It is my dream to own a whole set of Good Earth Pottery in the Hummingbird pattern. I can imagine setting it all out on my farmhouse table that seats 14 and having Thanksgiving turkey served on it. It's beautiful. http://goodearthgallery.com/index.php

Cooking with Cats

2010-08-10T11:41:00.000-05:00

So the other night I decided I was hungry for a corn and tomato bisque that I used to get at one of my favorite little cafes back home. But I had a few problems, not the least of which were ~ (A) I didn't have the recipe and (B) I was herding cats alone so I really had no business trying to cook anything more complicated than a piece of dry toast.

But I really wanted that soup.

So I did a quick internet search and found one that I was able to adapt with what I had on hand. And it turned out dang good. Dang good.

Because I'm sure you will want to make this delish soup as well, and because I'm a giver....

Corn and Tomato Bisque (adapted from Food and Wine)

Gather ye ingredients while ye may:

1 large jalapeno pepper

1 TBSP white wine vinegar (or sherry wine vinegar)

1/2 tsp sugar

2 TBSP unsalted butter

1 small sweet onion (about 1 cup), chopped

3 cups frozen corn kernels or 1 pound fresh corn kernels (fresh is best but I used frozen)

2 cloves garlic, minced

4 cups chicken stock or low sodium broth

salt/pepper to taste

2 TBSP creme fraiche (note: I did not have any of this fancy french cream (plus I can't figure out how to put the little french accents in those words), nor would I have been able to find it anywhere within a 75 mile radius of where I live...if this were 2 TBSP of Grapico or Cheeze Whiz I might have found it at our local wally world. But I did learn that you can make your own creme fraiche by using heavy cream and buttermilk...of which I also had neither on hand. Therefore I used fresh whole milk and a tsp of sugar. The end result was still fabulous so just do whatever you are able to do with this ingredient!)

4 fresh plum tomatoes (I used 3 fresh regular tomatoes), peeled, seeded and chopped

Scallion, thinly sliced

Blue cheese, crumbled

Directions:

Turn on Little Einsteins to keep the toddler busy for 28 minutes and pour yerself a glass of wine (white pairs best with this soup!)

1. Roast the jalapeno over an open flame, or under the broiler, or on top of the stove in a cast iron skillet if your oven is broken, like mine was when I made this. Cook it 'til it's charred. Then put it in a bowl covered with saran wrap and let it steam for about 10 minutes. Peel, core, seed and finely chop the charred little pepper and combine with the vinegar and sugar.

Set it aside and pour another glass of wine. Hit rewind on Little Einsteins if you can and score another 12 minutes.

2. Melt the butter in a large stock pot. Add the garlic and onion. Like so.

Take a deep breath and inhale. Mmmm. Butter.

Sautee onion and garlic on high heat for about 10 minutes and then add the corn. Cook, stirring constantly, for about another 5 minutes. Add the stock and simmer for about 15 minutes until corn is soft. Add salt and pepper to taste.

3. Using a slotted spoon, transfer 1 1/2 cups of the corn mixture to the blender. Add the creme fraiche (or whatever you are using) and 1/2 cup of the cooking liquid. Puree until smooth and return to pot.

Note: I stopped taking pictures at this point because all hell was breaking loose in my house...I'd had to leave the kitchen to go wipe someone and my soup was about to burn. Just keeping it real.

4. Add the tomatoes and scallion to the pot and simmer for about 10 minutes or until heated through. I probably let mine simmer longer because at this point Little Einsteins was over and Stuart was rolling around in the floor at my feet, screaming and crying because....well....I guess because he's 3 and that's how he rolls. But my point is....it can obviously simmer longer and still taste fabulous! Oh...be sure and throw that jalapeno pepper and vinegar sauce in the pot at this point.

5. Now here's the most important step of all. When you dip you a bowl full, you MUST....I repeat....MUST... garnish with blue cheese. Lots of it. And don't skimp. I've never been more serious about anything in all my life. It might even be the law or something.

Can you believe I did all that while dealing with all this?

Eye yi yi.

Birthday Girl

2010-08-09T10:16:00.000-05:00

Today is our girl's 5th birthday. She loves chocolate donuts.

I mean...she loves chocolate donuts. So what better way to wake her up this morning? (along with a side of cream puff). Her whole class showed up to celebrate!

There was a homemade card.

And a few presents.

A new Barbie DVD might as well have been a little blue box with a girl's name on it (starts with a "T', ends with an apostrophe "s") filled with something sparkly. (the only thing I can think of that would cause me to react like this).

Little brother got all hopped up on sugar and fried dough before we sent him off to preschool. So sorry, Mrs. Teacher.

Celebrating our sweet girl today! There's a real story behind us getting her here safe and sound five years ago. I'll share it soon because it's kinda cool.

Just. Like. Her.

Turning Forty Fabulously

2010-08-03T07:30:00.000-05:00

So I've been MIA for the past few days for a good reason. I was kidnapped last Wednesday and transported across several state lines to....

New York City.

This is my abductor.

Good thing he is dashingly handsome.

We arrived in Manhattan sometime around noon, and since I didn't know until that morning where we were going, I had not been able to get my hair did before we left. So while we were waiting to check in, I told Andy I wanted to "run out real quick" and see if I could find a salon that might be able to take me. I lucked out. About a block from the hotel was a charming little salon and they had just had a cancellation and took me right away. Best haircut I've had since we moved. Actually it's the only haircut I've had since we moved, but it was so good that I feel like I may need to go back every 2-3 months. Just sayin'.

Anyway.

After I bopped out of the salon with my cute new do and met Andy a few blocks over, I was starving, so he suggested this one particular coffee shop that we "just had to try." I thought it odd that out of the hundreds of coffee shops in downtown alone, we had to go to this "one." But he was adamant. I soon discovered why.

Our dear friends from Atlanta had arrived and needed a place to walk in and yell "surprise!" And surprise it was. Of the best kind.

I later learned that even though the occasion of the trip was to celebrate my birthday, it was a surprise for both of us girls....planned carefully and lovingly for months by these great guys of ours.

They planned fabulous dinners. And after dinner entertainment just for us.

Like this:

And this:

There was food:

And treats:

Oops. Wrong picture.

Treats:

There was much laughter:

And a lot of walking.

Looking for bargains.

Molly found a purse and bought it.

I found a blouse that looked like it would be perfect for a school marm such as myself. Fortunately for Andy and the rest of my family, I did not buy it.

When it was time to leave, I asked if we could just send for the kids and cancel our return flight. I beg for that every time I leave New York. One of these days it will work.

I was still in a New York state of mind when we left.

Until I walked in my house to find my final surprise....a homemade cake decorated by little hands, tons of streamers, and three of the most excited little folks jumping up and down squealing with delight because they pulled off their surprise.

If my birthday celebration is any indication....I think I'm going to like my 40's.

Real Food? Really, Mom!

2010-07-20T06:42:00.000-05:00

I've pondered this question for a while, usually while I'm walking up and down the aisles of the grocery store, trying to find things that I feel good about feeding my family.

And the truth is, there's very little that I actually buy in the stores that leaves me with a warm, nurturing feeling. I read labels...looking for words like "natural" and "organic." Or labels telling me what that food does NOT contain, the latest catch phrase being "no high fructose corn syrup."

When my kids were born, I believed in breastfeeding. It worked for two of them, and was a complete flop with one. I won't tell you which of my children was on formula from day one and which one would still be nursing if I allowed it, but I will say that the sickest child with the most ear infections never had a drop of formula, and the formula baby has been one little healthy whiz kid! Like everything else under the parenting heading, I would never impose my beliefs on anyone else or judge anyone's decisions....what works for one mom doesn't work for another. But I believed in breastfeeding because it just seemed so...natural. It was real food. The original organic milk!

Then when my babies moved on to "real food"...that's exactly what I wanted to give them. Real food. I remember looking at a jar of bananas, reading all the ingredients and thinking to myself....hmmm....shouldn't bananas only have ONE ingredient? Like, I don't know, maybe....BANANAS! So from that point on when I wanted to feed them bananas, I grabbed one out of the basket, broke it into a bowl, mashed it with a fork, mixed it with a little milk if it wasn't mushy enough, and fed it to them. Voila. Bananas! For other foods, I simply cooked (steamed actually) any vegetables, fruit or meats that I wanted them to have, tossed it into the Vita-Mix (don't even get me started on how much I love my Vita-Mix. Don't even.) and served up some tasty, fresh and real food. And it wasn't that hard! In fact, I would cook most of it on the weekends (because I was still working) and freeze it for the week.

But then the kids got a little older and discovered new foods. Some that I bought. Some they tasted elsewhere. But fast forward a few years to the present and it seems that the bulk of their diets is coming from something in a box. Or a package. Recently, as I watched my son eat a "pop tart" (not the real deal but one that I begrudgingly bought only because it was "organic"...and, while I'm here let me just say that organic is NOT always synonymous with healthy!) I had this conversation with him:

Him: I loooooooove pop tarts. They're the BEST.

Me: They're gross. They are full of sugar and who knows what else. They aren't even real food. You know they'd probably stay good as new on that pantry shelf until you leave for college.

Him: Well, then, I'll take them with me because they're really good.

I've tried to tell myself that I ate pop tarts as a kid and I'm fine, so I hate to deprive my kids because...well let's be honest here....they are good! And I love a big handful of Doritos as much as the next gal. And sometimes I honestly crave coca-cola (especially with a little 'somepin 'somepin in it).

But something deep within me is completely troubled every time I bring that stuff into my home and feed it to my family. For me, it just doesn't feel right. Aside from the fact that I easily drop $100+ at the store each time to fill my cabinets with fake food, I just feel rotten when we eat it. On the other hand, I can go to the farmer's market and walk away with a tremendous amount of food for a fraction of the cost, and feel great about it. I love looking at it....preparing it...eating it....and I love watching my family eat it. Because I know where it came from. I know how it was made. And I know what's in it.

So here's where I am now. I don't want to be wasteful and throw away everything in my cabinets. But when it's gone, it's gone. Those pop tarts' days are numbered.

But...

My plan: If I can't buy it at the farmer's market, or at a neighboring farm, we probably don't need it. I'm going to make as much on my own that I can. Obviously I'll need to buy some things at the store....for instance, I have a bread machine and love making my own bread, but I don't see me grinding my own wheat. I also have a yogurt maker and have been making my own yogurt for a couple of years now. Now if I could only come up with some cute, fun little tubes to put it in so the kids would get excited about eating it. If not, they can eat it from a bowl like we did in the olden days. They can pretend they live on a prairie.

"They" say that you should shop around the perimeter of the store when you shop because there's isn't much on the aisles you should buy. I think a better philosophy is to stay out of the store as long as possible, but when you do go, buy real food with ingredients you recognize. And like Michael Pollan says, buy only foods that your great-grandmother would recognize as food. For me that would include - just to name a few- coffee, sugar, flour, oil and coca-cola (once in a blue moon). 'Cause maybe I have 'somepin to go in it.

Just keeping it real.

Camp Crazy

2010-07-19T07:25:00.000-05:00

So I just returned from a week in the North Georgia mountains. In a cabin. A mile up a mountain. With four little ones ages 3, 4, 5, and 6. The older three (my two and their cousin) went to a week long day camp at Lake Burton. Sort of a looksey camp to check things out before they are old enough ~~to be pushed out of the car door at 5 mph as we deposit them for a child free week~~ to experience the joy of overnight camp life starting next summer.

They're really cute. See?

This picture was taken outside of the cabin the first morning of camp. My brother (which would be my nephew's father...just making sure you're still with me) and I drove them to the camp this first morning. All the kids could talk about on the 1/2 hour drive was how much fun they were going to have and that they couldn't wait to do archery and riflery, neither activity of which I would want to be the counselor in charge of 5 and 6 year olds. With guns. And pointy sharp sticks. But thankfully that wasn't my problem that week. In fact, I anticipated that my only problem with these three darlings would be getting them fed fast enough before their heads collapsed into their mashed potatoes.

My brother and I spent the 1/2 hour return trip talking about what we were going to do with all our free time that night after the kids fell asleep. All we could talk about was how "dead" they would be....we used a lot of words like "exhausted"...."passed out".....and "comatose." We figured we'd be scooping them up from the dinner table, pulling off shoes and depositing them into beds at around 7pm. Which should leave us adults plenty of time to enjoy a nice dinner, drink some wine, listen to some music, maybe watch a movie....visit...play cards....whatever.

And I planned to run Stuart to death all day so he'd be just as tired and join the rest of them for the long sleep.

It was a beautiful plan.

Then we picked them up.

And they came walking out with Coca Cola's and M&M's.

What??????

I don't think my kids have ever tasted Coca Cola. But they proclaimed a deep love and undying affection for the stuff the moment they got in the car and William told me he didn't know how he'd ever lived without it.

After the M&M's and before we even made it back to the cabin, they were sharing Airheads, lollipops and circus peanuts. All compliments of Camp.

We spent the next four hours trying to peel them off of the ceilings and walls.

By the time we finally rounded them up, fed them a decent dinner, put them in the bathtub and ~~threatened to beat them~~ asked them nicely to please go to sleep, it was nearly time to get up and do it all again the next morning. And that was just the first day.

There were four more just like it.

By Friday morning I simply bypassed the cup and injected the coffee directly into my arm. Kidding! And did the same thing at night with the wine. Kidding again! (maybe).

I have more pictures to post, but I'm still curled up in the fetal position in the corner of my bedroom after the six hour road trip through rural Georgia Friday afternoon with the kids, all by myself.

If you haven't heard from me in a couple of days, go ahead and call the men in white coats.

It's really inevitable, y'all.

Three....Four....What's the Difference?

2010-07-06T08:58:00.000-05:00

I've always heard people say (people who have at least four children) that four is really no harder than three. Of course those people lied to me who told me that three was no harder than two because I'm about to let you in on a little secret...

IT IS!!!

Much, much harder. You're outnumbered, outwitted, they can all run faster than you and you'll never eat a hot meal again. But I digress.

Over the weekend my five-year-old nephew was in town, so we had four children under one roof, ages 3, 4, 5, and 6.

And it was seriously O.K.

Seriously.

It was like Lionel Ritchie, "All Night Long"....but it was Ok!

So for any of my ~~blogging partners~~ readers out there considering number four, I say go for it! I mean....how cute is this?

The One Where I Took All the Kids To the Doctor....

2010-07-01T05:29:00.000-05:00

and then to Wal-mart.

Because it wasn't punishing enough (for me) to stop after the Doctor's visit. I just had to go to Wal-mart.

Just had to.

Wal-mart. With all of them. After two of them had gotten shots.

I mean, on a perfect day when everyone is well rested, in great moods, smothering one another in brotherly love and we have little blue birds flying around our heads because it's such a zippidee-do-dah beautiful day, Wal-mart with my three is just shy of a full blown nightmare.

At one point they had all climbed into the buggy, which left just enough room for me to put some dental floss and one banana in the cart. So I had to pull at least one of them out. The one I really needed to stay in there was the very one who decided he no longer wanted to be a passenger....so for the rest of the shopping trip he ran circles around the cart, singing very loudly, "I'm running...I'm running....I'm running all around." I felt much like BP....all efforts to contain this massive spill of three-year-old energy failed.

Then of course they want everything....ev-er-y-thing....they see. Our rule is that if they ask for something and I tell them no, they say "yes m'am." They don't argue with me, whine about it, or ask a second time. And for the most part, they follow that rule. But MERCY it gets old when they ask for everything from popsicles to tampons (yes that has happened) and everything in between. It gets to the point that I just issue a pre-emptive "no" with every breath. I think I'll make a sign and just wear it around my neck next time.

If there is a next time.

Invariably, after each Wal-mart trip, once I've recovered from the post traumatic stress disorder, I suffer a severe case of amnesia because for some inexplicable reason I bring myself to do it again.

And again.

We were home by noon today and everyone down for naps by 12:10. Quittin' time can't come soon enough.

I Didn't Know I Was Pregnant

2010-06-29T07:48:00.000-05:00

Riiiiiiiiiiight.

I've always wondered about those crazy people....but apparently there are enough of them in this world that they were able to make an entire television series out of it.

Y'all. Come on.

Come. On.

I actually saw body parts trying to bust out of my belly each time I was pregnant. I'm thinking if I hadn't known before, that alone might have made me go "hmmmm."

Is there honestly anyone out there who wouldn't have known you were pregnant?

Anyone? Anyone? Bueller?

Where Did These Pigs Come From?

2010-06-24T05:46:00.000-05:00

We've had to have a come to Jesus meeting in our house.

You know how sometimes you think you're doing ok...everything is rocking along just fine and then all of a sudden you are forced to stand back, gasp, and exclaim, "Where did all these PIGS come from and why are they sitting around my table eating my food?"

No?

Well that's what happened last night when the manure hit the fan, so to speak.

Like most families, our lives are crazy. Busy. And mealtimes are about the worst. Trying to get food on the table, get three small kids fed, get everyone something to drink, more ketchup, an extra napkin, another helping of chicken, more milk, pass the salt, get your feet off the table, stop hitting your brother, say excuse me, no potty talk, sit up, use your fork, chew with your mouth shut, "we don't say butt" (see earlier post), and on and on and on.....

And then one night everything is completely out of control, someone spills their milk, and you LOSE it. L...O....S....E....it, I tell you.

When I calmed down I realized that we really haven't "practiced" using good table manners. I mean, we remind them all the time....but I don't know when we truly practice it. We stay on them, and we expect them to behave at the table, but in the midst of an already crazy scene, sometimes it's all lost in translation, especially on little minds.

I discovered this little game (on this website) a while back and decided it was time. So I rounded everyone up (NOT at mealtime), and we brainstormed what is and is not proper mealtime behavior and made our list of rules.

Then we made a game out of it.

Everyone is reminded of the rules at the beginning of the meal and each child gets 4 quarters to start out. Each time a rule is broken, they lose a coin and put it in the middle of the table. The person who loses the LEAST amount of coins at the end of the meal gets everyone's coins.

You won't want to do it at every meal, but after a few times, the rules should start to stick and you can do it only as needed or when you need a refresher course. As they get older, you can make the rules more complex and take it to a whole new level of proper etiquette (boys standing when girls walk in, boys holding chairs out for girls, proper placement of silverware, etc.).

We just played at lunch today and it worked great! Except that Stuart lost all his money when he peed his pants in the kitchen chair.

Loser.

We Don't Say Butt

2010-06-21T07:45:00.000-05:00

I don't know if the link below will work or not...I'm sure there is a better way to put a video on here but I have no clue how to do it. So this may or may not be for your viewing pleasure.

Anyway....let me explain before you click on that there video number 14.

You know how kids think that the word "butt" in any form, usage, or context is simply hilarious?

Well whenever I would hear my kids say it, I would immediately respond with "We don't say butt...we say bottom."

Por ejemplo:

"Hey Mama...what's for dinner?" Me: "Chicken." Them: "I love chicken...especially chicken BUTT!" And then hilarious laughter (from them, not me) follows. So with a straight face I would say, "I'll be glad to save the chicken bottom for you because we don't say butt....we say bottom."

So Stuart, the three-year-old, a couple-a-dozen times or so a day would say (just to say the word "butt")...."We don't say butt, do we Mama? Noooo.....we say bottom."

But the funny thing was, he would talk in this weird, British/French/Euro sounding voice when he would say it. So I couldn't help but laugh. Which doesn't make me a very effective leader.

I almost got it on video one day, as you may or may not see here.

Enjoy! (maybe)

Video 14

Going Bananas

2010-06-19T01:08:00.000-05:00

We love to make smoothies around here. In fact, we all have at least one a day...and I have some great recipes which I'll put on the eatin' page. But I digress. That is not the point of this post.

I like to buy ripe bananas, peel them and freeze them to make these wonderful treats, so I try to stock up when the stores pull the ripe bananas and reduce them for quick sale. It's cost efficient, and the frozenness (is that even a word?) of the fruit gives the smoothie the perfect consistency. It's a win-win!

Besides, I have a strange disorder that I inherited from my mother, who inherited it from her mother, where we can't sleep unless there are bananas in the house. It's a sickness, y'all. I've sought treatment.

But again, I digress.

So I was running low on frozen bananas and sent my mate to the store to see if he could help replenish my stash.

Heaven help me.

He returned with more than fifty pounds of bananas.

FIFTY POUNDS, people.

Want to see what fifty pounds of bananas looked like?

And there were more on the island behind me. I couldn't fit them all on the counter.

My hands are stained from peeling all those bananas. And I ran out of containers to put them in.

The girl who helps me clean every other week happened to be here yesterday and when she walked in I was standing there taking this picture of all those bananas. As she walked off she said, "ahhhh.....mucho platanos."

And I think I heard the word "loco" under her breath.

But I sure did sleep well last night.

One of Those Days

2010-06-17T04:49:00.000-05:00

[caption id="attachment_1626" align="aligncenter" width="314" caption="where the hell is my pickle fork? i can't have anything nice with you kids."][/caption]

i sent this card to the other mommy, esq. a few years ago.

couldn't help but think about it today. so appropriate.

today i am cleaning....organizing....going through things....

and saying bad words.

i've discovered the recliner is broken....there is a huge unknown mysterious spot on the carpet....i've found kitchen utensils in the bathroom and toothbrushes in the refrigerator. nary a single dvd case has the correct and corresponding dvd in it, and someone or some thing peed on my down comforter.

the kids all want to go to the pool and are driving me crazy.

i haven't brushed my teeth since last night.

some days it's like shoveling snow in the middle of a snowstorm while herding cats with socks on all at the same time.

ever have one of those days?

Talk to the Spoon

2010-06-09T11:04:00.000-05:00

Because the spoon (a la earlier "How to Travel (Alone) With Kids" post) was an instant favorite among our readers in travel tips, I thought I'd share a picture.

As you can see, they are on Mr. Spoon's good side.

You do NOT want to be on his bad side.

You do NOT.

ps. I do realize it is, in fact, a fork and not a spoon. But there is a reason we call it Mr. Spoon. Stuart, the youngest, cannot speak clearly. And when he says fork....well, let's just say.....the "o" part of it sounds more like "uh" and there is no "r" sound. So it CLEARLY sounds like a different word. That is not intended for general audiences, if you catch my drift. I can see it now....in a store....I reach in my purse and he starts yelling "Get the fork away from me!" And the store is packed. And everyone turns to stare at the three-year-old with the major potty mouth.

Because that would be just my luck.

How To Travel (Alone) With Kids

2010-06-07T07:52:00.000-05:00

Don't!

Unless you have to.

Like only if you are being chased by knife wielding members of the Taliban and your only means of escape is to load up your three (under the age of 6) children and set off on a 7+ hour road trip with them across three states.

Alone.

Trust me.

But if you choose to ignore my sage advice, and are determined, here are a few tips. From one who has done it and lives to tell of it.

~Have a co-pilot

Mine was a wooden spoon (fork actually that I've never seen much use for in the kitchen but found great use on small bottoms when needed) with a smiley face on one side and a most unhappy face on the other. Mr. Spoon sat shotgun with me from Georgia to Alabama and on several occasions turned his unhappy face towards my brood in the back who had to quickly make Mr. Spoon happy unless they wanted to visit with him. Up close and personal. If you know what I mean.

It works, y'all. It works.

~Give everyone a cup of water, a pillow and a small snack

And announce that you will be unable to meet any further needs until you stop. You cannot change out movies. Pick up dropped toys. Search for lost pacis (don't judge me). Or refill drinks and snacks. So don't ask.

Unless you want to talk to the spoon.

~Be Prepared

I have a market basket that I pack with all the essentials and tote it back and forth from house to van on a daily basis. For road trips it's stocked with pull-ups, wipes, band-aids, a wet wash cloth, baking soda (a wet wash cloth + baking soda will take puke smell out of anything....trust me), extra zip-loc bags (to separate anything into three's that needs to separated, i.e. ONE cookie/chicken nugget/piece of gum...also known as forced sharing), a couple of plastic grocery bags, a bottle of water and, of course.... Mr. Spoon.

~The Radio Will Play Louder than Screaming, Whining and Crying

No explanation needed.

A personal caveat: I left with the kids on our road trip on a morning that dear husband was already out of town on business. That means I alone (in addition to normal duty!) packed everyone, loaded the van (including the psycho dog), tidied house, dropped said psycho dog off at kennel and traveled with the kids all day from Georgia, to Florida, to Alabama. In Alabama 9 days later, repeated the process (sans psycho dog) to travel 5 hours to Florida to meet dear husband halfway in Florida for a beach vacation.

Upon returning home to Georgia, dear husband informed me that he stripped the sheets from our bed before he left and I'd find them in the dryer. After a long day of traveling, and eagerly anticipating sleeping in my own bed for the first time in two weeks, I was somewhat dismayed to discover not clean, fresh sheets in dryer, but rather smelly, mildewed and damp sheets that didn't manage to dry on their own over the FIVE days they sat there!

What the....

So I walked up to dear, sweet husband who clearly meant well and sweetly said, "You know, dear, sheets dry much better when you TURN THE THING ON!!!!"

To which he responded that he meant to. He really did.

And I do believe he did. And we actually laughed about it.

But the best part of this story is when he said (with a smile on his face), "Well....you just don't understand. It's hard to get ready to go on vacation when you're all alone. I didn't have anyone here reminding what all had to be done before I left!!!"

Blank stare. Crickets.

I'm still trying to figure that one out.

Bless his heart, y'all. He was all alone.

I can't imagine.

Homeschooling? Are you Crazy?

2010-06-04T08:02:00.000-05:00

This is the first thing most people say when I tell them I've made the decision to homeschool my kids.    The follow up comment is usually something like, "Wow....good for you....but I could never do it. No way. Not for me. But...really...good for you." Then, especially if I'm talking to someone who lives in the same school district my kids would be attending, it's followed with, "Well you know the schools are really good here if you change your mind or if it doesn't work out."

Honestly, my reasons have nothing to do with lunacy, or some sort of magical powers I've been given enabling me to take on this great feat. Nor is it in any way a condemnation of the local schools - public or private. My reasons are personal, and simple. I've hesitated talking about it much on here but after some discussion with Kim, and because this is going to be such a part of our lives and, therefore, our blog....we felt we should address it head on.

I love being with my kids.

I truly enjoy my kids.    They aren't perfect kids...in fact, most days they are as far from perfect as they could be. They pitch fits. They talk back. They throw temper tantrums. They argue with each other. They mess things up. But they are my kids and I love them more than anything. And more than that...I like them. I miss them when I'm not with them. I can't spend a night away from them without hearing their voice, and even when I need a break from them....it isn't long before I ache to be with them again.

For the past year and a half I worked full time and I left them all, every morning, and didn't see them again until dinner time. The only "quality" time I had with them was the time it took to throw some food on the table, throw them into the bathtub, throw them into bed, and then throw myself down in utter exhaustion, fatigue, and remorse. And guilt. And sadness. Because no matter what I was doing all day, where I was, who I was talking to....all I could think about were my kids. Wondering how they were doing. What they were eating? Were they happy? Sad? Lonely? Excited? Were they saying something funny? Doing something great? Or maybe something not so great that needed correction and attention?

The satisfaction I got from the high points of my career did not even come close to the sadness I felt on a constant basis being apart from my children. Not even close.

But here's the thing....

I didn't have a choice. I had to work. And to me, it made being apart from my children so much more difficult because I didn't have a choice. There were no options. And that's how it is for most working Moms. There are also Moms who are called to their professions and who enjoy working....and I was one of those Moms at one point too. So I understand it from every angle. But for me, the decision was simple when we got to a point where I did have options.

I am now at home full time and that's where I want my children. With me.   Now that I'm home I don't want to send them away for 8-9 hours a day. I just don't. So there.

The Well Trained Mind

For some reason that I don't now recall, I picked up a copy of The Well Trained Mind a few years ago. My oldest child was probably about three at the time. I knew nothing about homeschooling....had never thought of it....had never even met anyone who homeschooled. But I read the book, and everything in it resonated with me.   I quickly breezed through it and told my husband I wanted to look more into homeschooling. The first thing he said was, "Homeschooling? Are you crazy?" (see I told you it's the first thing everyone says).    Then he said, "Why in the world would you homeschool when the schools are so good here?" I didn't press the issue because I knew it would be years before I'd even be in a position to make such such a decision.

But I couldn't get it out of my mind. Or heart.

After checking out The Well Trained Mind from the library numerous times, I finally decided to buy my own copy, which is now underlined, highlighted and well read because it's what I'm basing my own homeschooling on. If you want to know more, I'll be listing my curriculum on our homeschooling page and will be talking a lot about classical education. But for now I'll just say that this book was what started me on this path. If you're interested, go to the library and check it out. And you can renew it as many times as you want!

De-stressing

When all of my kids were in school (last year I had one in kindergarten, two in preschool and a nanny in the afternoons), it seemed that some days I could barely keep track of what everyone was doing. Many days started before dawn trying to rouse my six-year-old from a dead sleep and starting the morning already stressed out trying to get him to hurry up and eat, hurry up and get dressed, hurry up and fix his lunch, hurry up and wait on his ride, etc. All I did was yell at him! HURRY UP!!!!

By the time he left the house, my blood pressure was already elevated, and then it was time to try to get the two little ones fed, dressed, pottied, lunches fixed, snacks prepared, backpacks packed and myself dressed so we could rush out the door. Not to mention if heaven forbid it was LETTER OF THE WEEK or some other special day when I had to send a magazine picture and canned good with one child, a bag full of "lettered" items with another child, a special t-shirt on one child for a field trip, a special snack for another child to share with his class, etc. etc. etc. Some days I thought I was losing my mind!!! It made me so crazy that I actually sent my four-year-old to school in her pajamas one day thinking it was PAJAMA DAY, only to find out it was the class Christmas concert instead. She was dressed in flannel Dora pajamas with light-up slippers while her classmates were in smocked Bishop dresses and mary janes. I think I was nominated for Mother of the Year after that....

My point is....I felt like I was riding Mo Mo the Monster every day and was yelling "I WANT TO GET OFF! I'M ABOUT TO PUKE!"

Now that we are homeschooling....if someone doesn't feel well, they can sleep a little longer. If it's not a good day for a field trip, we do it another day. If someone needs to just sit in Mama's lap and be rocked for a few minutes when they wake up, we do that. It is so nice. So. Nice. No schedules. No tardy bells. Nothing.

Deep breath. Ahhhhhhhhh..................

There are probably more reasons I could list, not the least of which are....we want our kids to get their values from us....we want them to bond with each other....and on and on. Maybe I'll go into some of those later. Let me just say that, in the couple of months we've already been at home together, I've seen an amazing bond evolve between my three children. And life is much simpler.

And I like it.

And to those people who ask whether I'm certified to teach? Yes, yes I am, actually. But even if I wasn't....I'm not certified to parent either.

But I do the best I can.

Don't we all?

Like Kim...I'm a little nervous. A little apprehensive. Like I'm jumping off a high dive! But I'm excited. And plan to take it one year at a time.

Actually, one day at a time.

Join us on the homeschooling page to keep up with us on this journey!

Here we go....

Oil, Oil, Go Away....

2010-05-30T01:48:00.000-05:00

After spending nearly 10 days back home in Alabama, the kids and I met Andy in Florida for a mini family beach vacation. Partly to break up the trip back home for me and partly to see our beautiful coast before it becomes a gunky oily mess.

The highlight our of trip was a kayak tour of St. Joe Bay.

It was so beautiful. And so hard to look out there, knowing the danger that is lurking...threatening...looming.

We had such a wonderful time exploring the beautiful creatures here. Both big...

...and small.

in their beautiful home....

Praying for our beloved Gulf Coast.

And leaving it with a much heavier heart than usual.

~Julie

"There's no crying in baseball"...R.I.P., Dottie!

2010-05-24T11:15:00.000-05:00

Mommy, Esquire mourns the passing of a great American woman, Dorothy "Dottie" Kamenshek.

Dorothy Kamenshek, a star player in the All-American Girls Professional Baseball League who inspired the lead character, played by Geena Davis, in the movie “A League of Their Own,” has died. She was 84.

Dottie played first base for the Rockford (Ill.) Peaches from 1943 to 1951 and again in 1953. She was named one of the top 100 female athletes of the century by Sports Illustrated. She was selected to seven All-Star teams and retired in 1953.

Kamenshek’s abilities impressed a minor league men’s team in Fort Lauderdale, Fla., which offered to buy her contract in 1947, but she declined the offer.

She was a graduate of Marquette University with a degree in physical therapy and moved to California, where she practiced.

Mommy, Esquire salutes "Dottie" and wishes we had more stories about capable women like her. More stories about women like Dottie and fewer stories about women like Paris. Dottie was one swell gal. R.I.P., Dottie!

Batter up! Hear that call!
The time has come for one and all
To play ball. For we're the members of the All-American League,
We come from cities near and far.
We've got Canadians, Irishmen and Swedes,
We're all for one, we're one for all,
We're All-American.

Each girl stands, her head so proudly high,
Her motto Do Or Die.
She's not the one to use or need an alibi.
Our chaperones are not too soft,
They're not too tough,
Our managers are on the ball.
We've got a president who really knows his stuff,
We're all for one, we're one for all,
We're All-Americans!

Scavenger Hunt!

2010-05-13T03:11:00.000-05:00

A friend here who was a first grade teacher (and who is much more creative than I!) put together a scavenger hunt for our kids at the state park. For this I was grateful as I am running out of ~~steam~~ ideas as we approach the unofficial end to our unofficial trial period of homeschool kindergarten and playschool.

First of all....it's really beautiful there.

We met at the side of the lake and gathered the troops to give them instructions. The ages of the kids ranged from about 20 months to 6 1/2. There were 3 three-year-olds and one four-year-old so for them, this exercise was perfect. For the almost seven-year-old, it was not as challenging. Until we put him in charge. Something that seven-year-olds like to be. Or at least think they are. Anyway....

They were given sheets with pictures of different colors, and they were to find items that matched the colors. Lucky for my three, they had an experienced guide who could clarify any confusion they might have had.

It was fairly easy to find items that were brown, orange, and green....but they had to look long and hard to find purple.

Success!

Next it was time to look for animals. Stuart spotted some ducks and was in his element. This, of course, was most unfortunate for the ducks.

Obviously they didn't hear what happened to the butterfly at the hands of the Stuart. If they knew, they would have never been this close.

Not only were there ducks....but there were donkeys.

Roosters.

And one big, ugly, smelly, dirty pig. Boar. Whatever. Bless his heart.

Group shot. Minus Stu who was probably off trying to stick his finger up the donkey's nose. Honestly, it would have been easier to position the ducks, donkey, rooster and boar on that tiny bench than to gather these young'uns for a group picture.

See that look on Catherine's face?

That's exactly how I looked when this photo session was over.

Does this make us look fat?

2010-05-12T00:38:00.000-05:00

We knew we needed a new look.

We searched and searched. Tried on lots of different outfits. Nothing seemed to fit. At least nothing that was already out there.

So we found someone to make us something.

We like what she did.

She's very talented. And sweet. And she does it all to raise money for adoption.

We really liked that.

Check her out if you get a chance.

We have lots of new stuff on the way....

Stay tuned.

Leftovers....Whatcha Gonna Do?

2010-04-14T03:35:00.000-05:00

We grilled a pork tenderloin the other day and had about half of it left over. I usually don't like leftovers but I feel so guilty about throwing anything away. So we threw together this salad and it was real good, y'all.

Real good...ya hear me?

I dug out some spinach leaves, a cucumber, some tomatoes, mandarin oranges, slivered almonds, and blue cheese. Then I sliced the tenderloin real thin like and laid it on top. Whisked together some balsamic vinegar, EVOO, minced garlic and a splash of agave nectar for the dressing. A little salt and pepper and voila.

Oh...

And don't forget the wine. Two Buck Chuck Cabernet here....a perfect pairing for leftovers. Frugal yet delightful.

Like me. (my husband is laughing about the frugal part).

Nursery School

2010-04-13T08:21:00.000-05:00

As I've stated before....I wasn't planning on doing this homeschooling thing so soon. I had no reason to believe our house would sell before school got out for the summer, so I didn't imagine I'd be finishing up kindergarten and k-4 with my older two just now. Which wouldn't be so bad if we didn't have Stuart, aka Taz (the nearly three-year-old tasmanian devil) destroying everything in our path on our learning adventure.

So each day I try to come up with things to do to involve all three of them.

Like gardening.

(those who know me well are laughing hysterically right now).

This was our school day today.

First we started with some dirt and seeds.

Then after Stuart ate some of our dirt and we replenished our container, we sprayed it with water.

Next, after Stuart tried to poke everyone's eye out, we took our pencil away from him and made small holes with it in the dirt to drop in the seeds.

Then it was time to water everything...

even our paci. (yes he's nearly 3...yes I should probably take it away...and no I don't because I'm afraid of him.) (Don't judge me).

We hope our little seedlings survive.

We hope we survive the remainder of our school year. We're sorta counting the days until Stuart goes to boarding pre-school.

Sorta.

Remedial Gardening Part II

2010-04-13T06:46:00.000-05:00

Look, y'all!

School is For the Birds

2010-04-08T08:36:00.000-05:00

We have joined a homeschool group here since (a) we don't know anyone and (b) we don't know anything about this homeschooling thing.

They invited us to come to their Bird Co-op at the state park. Even though I had no idea what a bird co-op was or how to get the state park, I enthusiastically accepted the invitation.

Oh my gosh I'm so glad we went.

What fun.

We learned about eggs and the different part of the egg. AND....that no matter how hard you try, you can NOT break an egg. (even though I usually don't have much trouble somewhere between the Wal-mart parking lot and my driveway). Even if you squeeze it really hard. It won't break...as long as you apply equal pressure and don't stick your thumb into it.

Go ahead. Try. You know you want to.

Then we made bird feeders with pine cones, peanut butter and birdseed. I hope the birds enjoy eating it as much as Stuart did.

Then we got to pet some birds. There were blue birds.

Pink birds.

And an unfortunate orange bird that nearly got squeezed to death by the Stuart.

There were games. (Egg race. Get it?)

And more birds.

The best part though? Just being together.

I think we're going to like our new school.

Remedial Gardening

2010-04-07T08:24:00.000-05:00

I love flowers. I mean...I love them. Truly. I get so excited when the first hint of spring arrives and the stores all of a sudden have a plethora of gorgeous blooms and I feel like they are all screaming "take me home and plant me and care for me and watch me grow!" So I spend a fortune on whatever I think is the prettiest (not necessarily giving thought to burdensome things like watering, sunlight, soil conditions, etc. Bleh!). I get home with all my new beauties, put them in pretty pots and then in a few weeks toss them in the trash can when they die.

And they always die.

Sigh.

It's a sad little cycle and I do it every single year. Every. Single. Year.

Except for this year. I've been too busy unpacking boxes and lining drawers and cabinets to notice that it was time to kill some pretty flowers again.

Anyway....

I walked into the backyard the other night and was trying to get to the water hose and had to scramble behind some gnarly, bare looking bushes with these prickly sticky things all over them when I recognized that these were....

Rose bushes!

And within just a few days they had leaves.

And then buds.

I'm so excited. Even though I don't know nothin' bout birthin' no roses.

Wish me luck.

Better yet....wish them luck.

Mrs. Mama

2010-04-07T02:35:00.000-05:00

Just before we moved to Georgia, I sat my older two children down to tell them that we would be homeschooling when we moved. It went something like this:

Me: Hey guys....What would you think about going to school at home when we move to Georgia?

Them: Yea!!!! (jumping up an down, hooping, hollering, etc.)

William: That's awesome! But....who would my teacher be?

Me: Well....I will be your teacher. What do you think about that?

{Deep thinking}

{More thinking}

Then....

William: (obviously very worried) ... Well, Mama....I mean....Do you know anything?

Me: (obviously somewhat offended) ... Yeah, well, maybe one or two things. I might be able to teach you something you don't know. At least I'll try.

Catherine: (speaking for the first time) Will we call you Mrs. Mama?

Moving On

2010-03-31T07:31:00.001-05:00

We are now settled in Georgia (and I’ll have some new posts about life here)…but I need to say that leaving Fairhope was hard. Harder than I thought it would be.

I wasn’t just leaving a place that I love. I was leaving behind a whole season of my life.

See this room?

It used to look like this and have the cutest little boys curled up in the bed. Or playing cars (or planes or monsters or pirates) in the floor.

And this room here?

I brought the sweetest baby girl home from the hospital a few years ago and laid her in this bed.

And this big room?

Well it didn’t seem so big sometimes. It was where we ate…watched TV…gave piggyback rides…threw temper tantrums…rocked babies…built forts with pillows and blankets…played ring around the roses…sat in time out…searched under sofas and chairs for lost pacies (and goldfish, gummies, tiny cars and remote controls)…

Sometimes it seemed we were all on top of each other. Especially at Christmas time when you threw in a supersized Christmas tree in the corner.

Sometimes being on top each other wasn’t so bad.

In fact, it was kinda sweet.

I think I’ll miss that little house on Myrtle Street.

Little Things

2010-02-25T20:34:00.001-06:00

Sometimes the stresses of the day become so big. Just getting folks dressed and fed seem huge. Especially the dressing part. And especially when it’s picture day at school. But then (after wiping away the sweat) you stand back, take a breath and realize it was worth the extra effort to try to look special.

Because it’s not every day you wear your pearls.

And it’s not every day your little brother lets you put your arm around him.

And stand so close.

Sometimes when you feel pretty you see pretty things everywhere.

And sometimes a small, solitary flower in bloom…

becomes the perfect gift for Mama.

And makes her day.

If Home Is Where the Heart Is…

2010-02-22T21:13:00.001-06:00

I’m afraid I might be leaving mine here.

And here.

Or maybe under this tree…

Of course there are the flowers…

Can’t think of this place and not think about flowers.

I think I might be sitting over in Georgia late one afternoon and think about these guys too…

Or wish I could take a run along this path.

Why is it you take for granted places you love. You say, “eh, not today….maybe tomorrow. There’s always tomorrow.”

But sometimes there isn’t.

Now that I think about it… we do the same thing with people we love. Don’t we? We always think we have tomorrow.

Sometimes we don’t.

Maybe there’s a lesson here.

And maybe it’s about something much more important and greater than moving.

A Moving Tale

2010-02-18T06:02:00.006-06:00

I can't imagine I still have any readers left out there after my long hiatus, but I feel the need to do this post. Maybe it's just for me.

It's been a long year folks. Last February (the 24th to be exact), Andy lost his job. I know he's not the only one out there. In fact, he's one of four on our small little street who suffered the same fate last year. But like so many other things, you never think it will happen to you. In that moment so much changed for us. Our sense of security I fear has been permanently altered, as has our outlook on finances, employment, and things I shall save for another post. We knew that the chances of him finding another job doing what he loves and is good at that would allow us to stay put was slim to none.

We were right.

After ten long months of a role reversal that just did not work for our family (him as Mr. Mom and me out there working all the time) he found the perfect job. And we were relieved. And blessed. And excited.

But it's 7 hours away.

Too long to drive back and forth every day. Or even every week.

So we said "Ok God....thank You very much for this wonderful job and now if it's Your will for us to go to Douglas, Georgia....let us know. Show us in a big way. Work everything out." Basically, "work everything out" meant let us sell this house that we tried to sell for nearly all of last year and never even had anyone come back a second time.

We put the house on the market the weekend before Christmas. Before the sign was even in the yard we had some people come look at it and ask us that night if they made us an offer how quickly could we be out.

Seriously? Maybe God wanted us in Douglas. They ended up going with another house but it certainly got our attention.

So Andy moved right after New Year's and we knew in the back of our mind that a seven hour drive could possibly separate our family for months. Years even.

Since Christmas the house was only shown three times. A week and a half ago some people came to see it one Sunday afternoon. We didn't know anything about them. But we prayed for them. We stopped and prayed that God would be with them as they made their decisions and if our house was right for them, they would know.

I guess they knew because the next night they came back and the following day made us an offer. Not only was our house right for them, but they were ready to buy....needed a place to live....and needed to be in here in a matter of weeks.

Who says God doesn't answer prayer. Sometimes His timing isn't ours. Sometimes His way isn't ours. Our timing would have had Andy a job within weeks of losing his other one. It also would have given me a little more than three weeks to get ready for a major move alone. And our way for all of this to shake out would have been for a job to have opened that wouldn't have moved us so far away from "home."

But who are we to question a God who has been so present and so in control. I mean....

Wow.

I have much more news and updates about what's happening with us and I promise I am going to update more often with stuff. I got a really cool camera a few months ago that I might actually have time to learn how to use when we get settled.

For now I'm doing ok with it riding all over Fairhope taking pictures of everything I love here that I need to take with me.

Like that girl up there sitting in our favorite park.

Looking Back

2009-09-18T20:36:00.007-05:00

So the first day of school has come and gone. I've been such a slacker with this little ol' blog here. I wanted to share these pictures with you though because I think they tell a sweet little story. About a sweet little boy who overnight went from a baby to a kindergartner. And his Mama who trailed behind him with a camera on the walk to school the very first day.

He pointed out everything along the way. And made a point to walk at least five paces ahead of his old mama.

There were birds. And dogs. And flowers. And trees. And....and....
But he stopped to pose just before we rounded the corner to the big school.
And he saw all the other kids holding their old Mamas hands. And he asked to hold mine.

I didn't want to ever let go.

Finally he made it to his class and sat there waiting on the bell. We'd already said good-bye as me and my camera made our way out. But I made a big mistake by looking back. And I didn't see a big boy with a cool new Star Wars backpack. I saw a 7 pound baby. Because it really was just yesterday.

It really was....

Come On Over....

2009-09-08T12:02:00.004-05:00

to my other home on the web. I'm still here! Just been a little busy. Hoping that all two of you will come over and check out my new "official" Mommy, Esquire website (www.mommyesquire.com) that I've set up with my best friend from law school....what's better than one Mommy, Esq (you might ask yourself)? TWO Mommies, Esq. of course!

I'll still be posting poop stories and various and sundry embarrassing stories about my family here. Including some great new photos so stay tuned...

But bookmark my other site too and tell your friends about it. It's all about fun. That's how we roll....

The Writing on the Wall

2009-06-11T05:50:00.008-05:00

"They" have told me time and again how fast it goes. I haven't believed them. Because usually it's on a day when I'm overwhelmed, sleep deprived, exhausted, frustrated, impatient or downright delirious...sometimes all of the above. "They" are those moms who've been there. And to them it's all a vapor now. They say "enjoy it"...."it goes too fast"...."believe it or not you'll look back and wish for these days again...".

I've found it hard to believe.

But slowly I'm seeing that it's true.

This one starts school in August. I wish I could push "pause" and make it all last just a little longer. Every time he curls up in my lap with those long gangly legs and stinky big boy feet wrapped around me I wonder how much longer he will want to....how much longer 'til it's not cool any more. So I gather him up in my lap the best I can and thank the Lord for every moment.

For as long as it lasts....

Scrubbin' Bubbles

2009-06-11T05:48:00.001-05:00

Bobbing for Toilet Paper

2009-05-25T07:13:00.003-05:00

I've said it before but I'm really starting to mean it....if Stuart had been number one, there wouldn't have been numbers two or three. Probably. More than likely. I've also said before that he is the sweetest baby of the three...the most loving....the most snuggly....but he's also the most unpredictable. And not in a good way.

We've had a dog the entire time we've had children. Which means we've had a dog dish with food and water within reach of all children at all times. No one else has ever bothered Poopsie's cuisine beyond the initial curiosity. And then along came Stuart. He ate Kibbles-n-bits before he ate Cheerios. He has dipped his hands/feet/elbows/head in the water dish and laid down in front of it to slurp. He's dumped it upside down and sloshed around in it. He's dumped his blueberries and strawberries into it, creating a nice fruit flavored spritzer for Poopsie to enjoy on a hot day. He's very creative. And thoughtful.

He's also fascinated with toothbrushes. If you can't find your toothbrush around here, chances are Stuart found it first. And there is a real possibility that said toothbrush took a swim in Poopsie's water dish. Or the toilet. The other source of Stuart's amusement.

The other day he was running around the house laughing with a wet head. We knew he had not just been bathed so we naturally checked the dog dish. But all was dry. So we followed him as he took off down the hall laughing, ran straight into the bathroom, dipped his head in the bowl, flung it out sending a shower of (I pray only) water around the bathroom, and darted off to run in circles laughing hysterically.

Not sure I'll survive the "terrible twos" take three....

I'm Finished Now!

2009-05-14T21:48:00.002-05:00

It's been a while since there's been any potty talk so here goes....

I'm trying to figure out at what point should my children be potty independent? As in....they no longer feel the need to announce what they are about to do and then sit there after they've done said deed and holler at the top of their lungs over and over..."I'm finished now!!!" And wait for me to come running and complete the job for them?

Not too long ago as one of them...I won't mention any names but he's the oldest....was sitting there hollering at me that he was finished....I walked to the door and told him in no uncertain terms that he was a big boy and I will no longer be assisting him in that area, metaphorically speaking. He threw his head back, let out a tremendously frustrated wail and hollered "Noooooooooooo!!!!!!!!"

What in the world??

I didn't ask him to pluck out his eyelashes. To rip off his fingernails. Or even to clean his room. It was just a simple request. To WIPE HIS OWN BUTT!!!! Come on!

I've been changing diapers and wiping butts for nearly SIX years non-stop, people. SIX years. So here's the deal..... If your legs are long enough for your feet to touch the floor when you're sitting on the pot, you're big enough to do the deed yourself in its entirety. Know what I mean?

I thought I'd made progress because this particular nameless individual went into the bathroom without making any public service announcements first, and shortly thereafter I heard a flush and realized that I'd not been beckoned to assist. I was pleased. So I continued cleaning up the kitchen with a proud smile on my face until he ran into the den, buck naked and yelled "Hey Mama....(as he turned around and leaned over)....did I get it all?????"

AAARRGGHHHHH

I'm finished now!!!!!!!!!!

in my next life....

2009-05-03T14:14:00.006-05:00

this is all i want to do...
not run through sprinklers.... but take pictures of little folks who do.
and take more pictures of little girls with big blue eyes.

'cause I just can't get enough.

lessons in patience

2009-05-03T11:49:00.002-05:00

As I sit here in the recliner recovering from my thyroid surgery, I've had a bit of an epiphany watching...of all spiritual things...Evan Almighty. These past couple of months....dealing with job loss, health issues, uncertainty, insecurity....I've prayed. A lot. Mainly I pray for patience because by nature I'm most impatient. I want what I want when I want it and on my terms. But I've been reminded here lately that this life isn't on my terms. And it's not about what I want. Especially if what I want is different from what God wants for me.

In this silly movie, God (aka Morgan Freeman) asks Evan/Noah's wife:

If someone prays for patience, do you think God gives them patience? Or does He give them the opportunity to be patient? If they pray for courage do you think God gives them courage or the opportunity to be courageous? If someone prays for a family to be closer, do you think God zaps them with warm fuzzy feelings? Or does He give them opportunities to love each other?

Wow.

How many times have I asked God to give me patience...to increase my faith....and look at how he's giving me the opportunity to be patient. And faithful. And depend on Him!

So these are times of opportunity. Not burdens. Opportunities. So today I'm going to thank God for giving me the chance to be patient...to be still...and to know who He is. And wait on Him to do what He will.

And try not to rush Him.

Always a Trip

2009-04-14T14:23:00.002-05:00

We are on vacation. We left home last Friday, Georgia bound with a van full....a van full of children, luggage and the next door neighbor who hitched a ride to visit her son. After driving and visiting for six hours, I was ready for a break. We deposited Ethel at her final destination around dinner time, about two hours outside of Atlanta and decided to make it a fiesta. We found a fun little Mexican restaurant and watched in amazement as Catherine devoured an entire taco, rice, refried beans and a gaggle of chips. Our amazement over that taco dinner would not be shortlived.

We hit the perimeter in Atlanta right in the middle of the worst weather this side of Katrina that I've ever seen. All hail broke loose if you know what I mean. The van was pelted with golf balls as a multiple tsunamis poured over the roof...we hit pool after pool of water, hydroplaning from one side of I-75 to the other. By the time we reached our exit and pulled safely into my brother's house, my knuckles were white from gripping the door handle and I had blisters on the bottoms of my feet from hitting the brakes on the passenger side. After being pried out of my seat, I stumbled into the house asking for some Zanax with some vodka to wash it down. I was a mess.

We let the kids run wild playing with their cousin and finally got everyone calmed down and in a bed. But Catherine started complaining that her tummy hurt. It was somewhere around 11 pm and she was clearly in pain. I dug through my portable medicine cabinet and saw that I had packed something for every ailment from a scrape on the knee to constipation, but had nothing for the tummy ache (of course). So Andy offered to run out and find something for her. Since this was Atlanta, I figured he'd run to the super Walmart just around the corner and come back with some Children's Pepto or something like that. When he returned (nearly an hour later), all he had was a pack of adult chewy Rolaids, some saltine crackers and ginger ale.

She was still writhing in pain and didn't want to put anything in her mouth. "Come on sweetheart, " he said, "take some of the medicine...the Dr. said you'd feel better."

"You saw a Dr.?" I asked.

He shook his head no.

"A pharmacist?"

Again, negative head shake. "The manager of the pack-a-sack said this is what he gives his kids when they don't feel good."

The manager of the pack-a-sack. Mmmkay.

Well we found out later...as in sometime around 1:30 am...the reason she didn't want to put anything in her mouth. And we got to experience the El Mexicano especial all over again...although it wasn't nearly as enjoyable coming out as it was going in. UGH And remember, friends...we were in SOMEONE ELSE'S HOUSE!!!!! So I spent the next three hours scrubbing, cleaning, disinfecting, and washing sheets.

The first part of our vacation has been a trip. We are now in the mountains and I'm hoping I have nothing to blog about the rest of the week. I sent Andy, William and Catherine into Helen a while ago so I could enjoy a quiet cabin while the little one naps. If they return wearing lederhosen I'll be sure to take a picture. And, of course, blog about it because...well...that would just be funny.

I could use some funny.

System Failure

2009-04-09T06:08:00.002-05:00

We don't have a lot of time for TV around here but I rely on my DVR to record my weekly crack fix, American Idol. The only show I really care about. And this season I'm especially addicted because I love, love, LOVE watching that weird haired, black nailed, ear pierced soprano singing Adam. I can't WAIT to see what he's going to do each week. And after putting the kids to bed the other night, I settled in to see.

I zoomed through the commercials and even some of the performances....and finally got to my little weirdo....saw his baby pictures....cracked up at his dad saying he didn't really like sports as a kid but loved to play dress up (shocking)...and then....

IT WAS OVER.

My mouth dropped open. I jumped up and all I could do was point to the TV, with my jaw on the floor, gasping for breath like I was hyperventilating or something....

I stood there like that for what seemed like hours and then realized.....

PATHETIC. Simply pathetic. My reaction to missing Adam's performance was way more dramatic than my reaction to hearing that Andy lost his job or North Korea had launched a nuclear missile.

I'm still not sure I'm over it. Missing Adam that is....

child’s play

2009-04-06T22:24:00.001-05:00

he tries to act tough…

he said he wouldn’t smile…

but then something was funny

really, really funny.

nothing like an old swing hangin’ from a tree in the front yard….

the same tree that serves as home base for a game of hide and seek…she counted 1, 2, 3, 4, 11, 15, 20….

“ready or not here I come!”

come with me.

Overheard Recently

2009-04-02T18:14:00.002-05:00

William: "Hey Mama, when will I be snack mom again?"

Me: "Hmmm...hard to say...a few weeks maybe?" As if such a bizarre question begged a serious answer, much less one that required much of a thought process.

William: "Well, I certainly hope that when I'm snack mom again I bring Pizza Pie Puffs. 'Cause they are goo-oo-oo-d."

Me: "Good luck with that."

Looks even weirder to actually put it in print.....

The Boy With the Ugly Shoes

2009-04-02T12:21:00.002-05:00

The kids had school pictures today. It was no surprise. They've only been sending notes home for weeks. They even put little stickers on their backs yesterday that said something like "Hey Mom and Dad - don't forget my pictures tomorrow!" Cute. Anyway....last night I picked out their outfits, we ironed everything and spent most of the morning rush hour getting bows in place, shirts tucked in and making sure the remnants of their pancake breakfast were nowhere to be seen on faces or clothes.

As I was running late and rushing to get out of the door, I told Andy to go put everyone in the car. I grabbed backpacks, my coffee and purse and ran outside to get in the van where my three looked so cute and charming in their sweet outfits.

I pulled up at school in the drop off line, opened the door and started herding them out, one by one. First Catherine, who looked so pretty in her smocked dress and English sandals. Then Stuart in his cute little jon jon and fisherman sandals. Then William, looking like such a big boy in his sweater vest, khaki pants and....

What the....

"WILLIAM! You have on CROCS?!?!?!?!"

Ugly plastic blue and orange Auburn crocs with a green frog jibit or jiblet or whatever the heck it's called stuck right in the front hole.

I looked at the teacher and with a calm sweet smile pleaded, "Please ask Mr. Mills not to photograph my child's feet. Mmmkay?"

I called Andy as I pulled away. "You won't believe this," I stated. "All the trouble we went to ironing clothes, making sure everyone looked cute for their pictures, and William gets out of the van with those nasty CROCS on! Can you believe that???"

"Um, yeah well, um, I guess I told him he could wear them."

{Blank stare}

I quickly concluded that in the grand scheme of everything we are dealing with at the moment, this was really not a big deal. Definitely not a mountain. Just a molehill.

An ugly molehill. But still.... a molehill.

Sigh.

Hey...Where Did That Rug Go?

2009-03-23T06:22:00.005-05:00

You know how sometimes you can be sleeping and feel like you're falling off a cliff and then you wake up? And realize it's just a dream?

Ever had that feeling but realized you're really awake?

I'm going to try to keep this as light as possible since this is supposed to be a fun blog. I guess I haven't posted much lately because, well, I just haven't felt really funny. I'm trying...it's just that my sense of humor kind of got ripped out from under me along with the rug.

You know all those awful stories on the news about all those people who have lost their jobs? Well...we've become one of those people. Not both of us. Just one of us. Remember that movie "Mr. Mom"? We're sort of living it right now.

I shouldn't say we haven't laughed much lately because that would be a lie. Actually, we've laughed quite a bit. Some days just to keep from crying. Others because it's all a surreal humorous scene some mornings as I rush out the door to a meeting while pancakes are flying across the kitchen and Daddy's running interference.

The thing is.... some days I think he's doing a much better job at home than I ever felt like I did. He is patient. Very very patient. And fun. He told me the other night that he looks at this as a kind of gift....a rare and unexpected opportunity to spend time with the kids that he would have never had. He is truly amazing me through this whole horrible thing. And I just love him all the more for it.

My biggest struggle here is the not knowing. The wondering. And the uncertainty. The fear of the unknown. And the fear that we're down to one life line. But then again that's one more than so many people have right now.

I have a childhood friend who ends each of her blog entries with a "Thanking God for... " thought. So I'm going to borrow that from her.

Thanking God today for life lines, unexpected gifts, and each other.

Say what?

2009-02-15T02:47:00.003-06:00

I was at spinning class the other morning. After a self imposed several month hiatus from spinning (and the whole gym thing in general) I returned this past week to find the Golden Girls are still there. And I'm convinced they are trying to sabotage my training.

In the middle of the class (this is an important point because it's at this stage that my legs are starting to feel like noodles) the instructor apparently decides to motivate us. Here's what she does:

"Come on people! Whew! That's it. Keep those legs going. Don't stop! Easy circles, now! Whew! Lookin' good! Don't slow down! Whew! Move those legs! Imagine that you have poo on your foot and you're trying to scrape it off. Move those feet! Faster....keep moving....the poo is stuck! It's stuck on your shoe! You're trying to scrape it....it's on there good! Scrape harder people! You don't want poo on your foot! It's fresh poo. It stinks. Bad! And it's all over those shoes. Keep scraping! Whew!" On and on it went. For the entire six minutes of the song.

Are you freakin' kidding me?

The first time she said it I thought...did she just say poo? Nah....but then, yes! No kidding.

I looked over at the Girls and I swear they were laughing at me. Because I was so distracted by all the poo talk that I could barely peddle. I just sat there...stationary.... with this look of confusion on my face. So they were beating me. And they thought it was funny.

Then it hit me. They put the instructor up to it. I'm sure they did.

Saboteurs.

Does This Look LIke a Jerk To You?

2009-02-04T07:40:00.005-06:00

So this morning I was getting everyone's breakfast in front of them and I put a banana on Stuart's tray, which he immediately tossed onto the floor. "No!" Mmmkay. Let's try juice. I set his juice down. It quickly followed the banana to the floor.

So I picked up the banana and the juice, set it on the table and decided to do my best to ignore the foul, offensive little person in the highchair.

Catherine walked by, saw Stuart's juice on the table and handed it to him. "Here you go Sewart," she said as she put it on the tray. "NO!!!" he yelled as he catapulted it once again to the floor.

"Catherine, that was nice of you but he's being a jerk. Leave him alone."

A jerk? Did I just call my 21-month-old a jerk? Surely she wasn't paying any attention.

About that time William walked in the room, saw the juice on the floor, picked it up and, as he was handing it to his brother, Catherine grabbed his arm and said, "No, Weeyum, don't... Sewart is being a JERK!"

Nice, Mom. Real nice.

I mean, really.

Going Green....Literally

2009-01-15T21:12:00.003-06:00

Originally I thought this post would be about my five favorite things like my sister girlfriend (a fellow Mommy, Esq.) did on her blog. Then I thought about thanking the Academy (or in this case my cousin) for my recent award and then passing it all forward (which I will soon....).

But instead I wanted to tell you about my new thing just in case you run into me and I look a pale shade of celery. See, one of my truly favorite possessions is my Vita-mix. We went to one of those home and garden shows about 7-8 years ago where they were doing demonstrations. You know, where they show you how incredible it is that this fancy blender can pulverize a 2x4 in less than 10 seconds, just in case you're ever in the mood for a speedy wood shake. But seriously, I stood there in amazement watching them make soups, juice raw foods, freeze ice cream, and (the thing that sold me) make peanut butter from....just peanuts. It was SO cool. And even though my first semester of law school plus books cost less than this thing, somehow I managed to convince Andy to let me buy it.

I promise it was one of the best things we ever bought. And the Vita Mix people are NOT paying me to talk about this (although I wouldn't be insulted).

When our babies came along, I started making my own baby food. Anything we ate, so did they. I just pulverized it. I mean....have you ever read the ingredients in a jar of babyfood? Shouldn't bananas contain only ONE ingredient...say, BANANAS? There certainly shouldn't be ingredients in a jar of bananas that I can't even pronounce. So I just did it myself. Because I thought I did it better than they did. And my babies loved it.

But lately I've been reading a LOT about these green smoothies. You can get your entire serving of fruit and veggies in one drink. And they have all these antioxidants to go to war against all the garbage we put in our bodies. It's a good thing. So the other morning I made up a batch and took it to Andy. I wouldn't tell him what was in it until he drank it. So he did. And he said it wasn't bad. And I smiled because he usually picks around the cucumbers in his salad but he drank one that morning! And never knew it. Until now.

But I'm a little concerned because he told me the story of someone he knew once who drank so many juiced oranges and carrots that they turned orange.

Things that make you go hmmmmm.

I think a subtle shade of mint wouldn't be so bad....

Does this guilt make my butt look big?

2009-01-11T05:17:00.002-06:00

When I left the law firm a few years ago, I did it mainly because I felt so guilty about all the time I spent at work compared to the minute amount of time I was spending with my...then... one child. I wore that guilt suit around on a daily basis and it became nearly unbearable when I was in the middle of a trial...in the middle of the holidays....and I went a full week only seeing him from over the top of his crib in the middle of the night. I knew I had to make a change ~ and I did, although I eased into staying at home slowly, still going into the office daily but only for a few hours.

When Catherine came along, her health necessitated me being home full time. And full time it was. I found myself suddenly with a toddler and a newborn with a bad lung who couldn't be exposed to sickness. Remember that movie about the bubble boy? That was us. The bubble family. For the better part of a year we didn't go anywhere. ANYwhere, people. I was like Nell when I finally got out of the house...screaming in an indecipherable language and running around in circles flailing my arms. At least I had on clothes. Talk about going from one extreme to the other.

Then came Stu. I was actually working on getting things in place to go back to work when I suddenly craved hot dogs and fell asleep at the wheel at 2pm one afternoon running to Target and realized that I was pregnant. I didn't even need a pregnancy test to tell me that. Shock and awe, that was. So I made the decision to just stay at home a little longer because...I mean let's face it....would you have wanted me working for you? What do you think were the chances I'd ever even make it out of the door in the morning? And I didn't see my firm agreeing to me working between the hours of 1 and 1:45 in the afternoon.

So I wouldn't give anything for the years I had at home with my babies. I joke and jest and probably embellish a lot on here in the name of creativity, but I truly loved being at home. But the flip side of that was the fact that I felt...and here's that word again... guilty for not working and using my education and hard earned skills. So when the opportunity came along a few months ago to return to work in a much more flexible and less stressful capacity, I jumped on it. Because I was afraid to let that boat sail. So I jumped back into the world of working mommyhood.

Only now I find myself peering over at three sleeping babies instead of just one. But only sometimes. Thankfully.

I do have it good. I know I do. And trust me, I am more than thankful to even have a job in today's world. I could quickly make you a list a mile long of all the pros of working. But sometimes in that deep dark place inside I wonder if a mile long pro list outweighs the one con...

missing them.

So here I am feeling guilty once again. But I realized the other day that when I was home full time I felt guilty. Not only about not working, but I'd get to the end of the day and feel guilty because they watched too much TV....because I yelled at them....or they only ate goldfish for every meal....or I let someone get away with something....or punished someone too severely....or because I should have read to them more....or...or....or.... and on it went.

So I'm thinking that as Moms maybe we need to accept the fact that once you give birth, that cloak of guilt will just become part of your wardrobe.

Maybe I should learn to accessorize. With grace. And mercy.

Mamma Mia!

2008-12-31T13:52:00.002-06:00

Andy went hunting last weekend and no sooner returned home than he "asked" me that he was going again tomorrow. I know that's not a grammatically correct sentence but since questions involving things like hunting, fishing and golfing are generally framed as statements, it's the only way I knew how to put it in prose. These "conversations" usually go something like this (and usually occur less than 24 hours in advance of said event):

Him: "Oh...hey....I might have "forgot" to mention it to you but I'm going hunting/golfing/fishing/to the Auburn game/to the Grand Canyon/________ tomorrow/tonight/in five minutes. Hope that's ok."

Me: "!^&@* *&$@! ^&*! !^&*@*! !&*#&*(@ !!!!!!!!!!"

Except this time he added, "And to help you out, I'll take William with me."

Yes. That will be a HUGE help. Take the only one who can (in theory but not usually in practice) wipe his own hiney and who can also (in theory) help me wipe someone else's hiney.

So, alas, Andy will be taking my firstborn on his first hunting expedition tomorrow. I don't know how long he thinks a five year old will stay quiet in a tree stand. My guess is 4.2 seconds but Andy's a pretty good shot so maybe he'll hit his target quickly.

To celebrate New Year's before he leaves, as a surprise I rented Mamma Mia for us to watch together tonight. He's going to be sooooooo excited. I have a bottle of champagne too. Not sure which he dislikes more. Bubbly or Dancing Queen. He can detox in the woods tomorrow.

Happy New Year, y'all!

~"you can dance, you can ji-ive, having the time of your life....ooh, ooh, ooh, see that girl, watch that scene, dig in the dancin' queen....." ~

Dear Santa, I want some Loritab and a nice big bottle of Crown Royal. Thanks.

2008-12-24T05:39:00.003-06:00

So yesterday I get a phone call from my dear husband and I could tell he was a little bit not himself. Come to find out, he cut his hand open, is bleeding profusely and is trying to get to the emergency room.

This was more than a little alarming to hear him even mention the ER because this is the same man who practically cut his finger completely off his hand a while back and, as the finger is dangling with blood shooting across the room and bone exposed he calmly asked me to run get one of William's spiderman band-aids. Of course I couldn't hear him because I was in an unconscious heap in the floor.

He called me an hour or so later and said he had 5 stitches in his hand and was on his way to the liquor store to pick a little something up in case he started hurting later. But he also had a prescription for a pain killer.

I hope he wakes up in time for Christmas.

I may be taping a note on the bicycle boxes that says something like, "Dear kids....Santa was too tired to put these together. Instructions are in the box. Good luck. Love, Santa."

But now that I think about it, the bikes won't even make it out of the attic. Maybe I'll just draw an arrow on the note pointing up. I'm sure they'll get over it.... one day.

Awww Foot

2008-12-22T05:46:00.006-06:00

Thought I'd share a few of the happier scenes from the season....the kids' Christmas program, breakfast with Santa (and no there was NO WAY I was taking that "paaa" out of his mouth), baking goodies, roasting smores over the fire and singing Christmas carols 'round the tree holding hands. No pictures of the snacks, smores and songfest? Hmmm, musta gotten lost somewhere.

I've really tried to make some fun Christmas memories this year but Christmas is HERE. And I'm not ready! I need more time!

My Granny used to say "aww foot" whenever she was over it. Whatever it was. And as for the busy-ness and madness that has taken over what should be a peaceful, restful season spending time with those you love most? I say the same thing.

Granny had another great saying too ~ "I'm gonna whip your little hiney if you don't shape up!" I use that one often too. That's another post though....

I think tonight I'm going to finish wrapping gifts and decide that if it's not bought, baked or done after tonight, it's going in the "to be continued next year" file.

Can I get an amen?

&#*@(!&@ Paaaaaa

2008-12-15T06:59:00.004-06:00

Please don't judge me on this post...I offer this account not to seek advice but rather to entertain you.

Stuart is nearly 20 months old and is hopelessly attached to his paci. His "paaa" as he calls it. I know, I know...some people find it appalling (including my dear Dr. Rosemond) to see the silly thing in the mouth of a child older than 6 months. But sleep is a precious commodity around these parts and if it means the difference between sleep or no sleep, I always opt for sleep.

We have at least 4 "paaas" for Stuart but for some reason the other night we could only find one. Not a good thing when I usually ensure that a spare is left on the kitchen counter for those 3 am wake up calls when the one he went to sleep with is lost.

So there we were...Sat. night...sleeping peacefully when we heard the preemptive whining through the monitor. This is the point that he's not fully awake so you can usually dart upstairs, grabbing the spare "paaa" along the way, tiptoe into his room and plug up the cry pipe. But remember I told you that we'd gone to bed with no spare.

So I crept into the room and started feeling the floor near the crib hoping to find the missing "paaa." Nothing there. I ran my hand under the crib and drew it back with nothing but a handful of fuzz, dust, and a random Barbie shoe. At this point I was beyond the window of opportunity to send him back into dreamland because I looked up and found him standing in the crib, looking over the side at me saying "paaaa....PAAAAA!"

Ugh.

So I leaned over to the monitor and got right in the microphone where I knew it would blast at top volume in our bedroom and said "Get up here and help me look for the &#**^# PAAA....and bring a ##&!^@ flashlight!"

So there we both were with little penlights looking under the bed, the rug, under the furniture, lifting up the crib mattress and saying things like "where the ^#$% could it be? Did the #$!@& ELF take it?" And the whole time Stuart is jumping up and down in his crib laughing, thinking it was a party. Woo-hoo!!

Finally I remembered the diaper bag, dug around the bottom and found one. Of course it had probably been on the floor of the Dr. office and never washed which is why it was in the bottom of the bag. But I was so happy to see it ~ rotavirus, influenza germs and all ~ and ran back into the room only to realize that it was way, way too late. Stuart was ready to get up, watch Dora and eat a waffle.

Not only did I lose a half night of sleep, but the infected "paaa" will probably lead to the next round of stomach virus for our family. Maybe it's time to heed Rosemond's advice and endure a couple of sleepless nights in order to get a string of sleep filled nights.

Or better yet...I think I'll just be accepting donations to replenish my stash of "paaaas."

Smile Anyway!

2008-12-08T07:00:00.006-06:00

We had pictures made on Saturday at the Grand Hotel. My friend Brandi, who has just started her photography business did them. I would encourage you....if you have small children...and want family photographs (which is akin to saying "if you want a double root canal")...call Brandi because she has three children of her own and she is gooooood with kids. She came bearing candy! Which is the only way we were able to get a smile out of some folks.

Of course, I have a confession to make. Catherine was sick, Stuart had an ear infection and Andy had a terrible sore throat. But by golly I'd scheduled the photographs and nothing was going to keep us from having them made. It would be easier to organize a summit of world leaders to discuss the effect of global warming on the temperament of toddlers than it is to get the family together for pictures.

These are just a few pictures I snapped myself while we were there. Notice Catherine sitting in the stroller wrapped up in Brandi's thick blanket she brought (she was more thoughtful than I....I didn't even have the kids' coats on hand). And try not to notice the green stuff coming out of Stuart's nose.

At least it coordinated with the Christmas theme.

Evil Elf

2008-12-05T20:09:00.009-06:00

Hey, did you know I have a blog? Apparently I FORGOT. Wasn't until Mary Anna reminded me that Halloween is over and I don't think I recorded any of the November antics here. And there were antics. Trust me. There are always antics with us.

I swear I don't know where the time goes. I only thought the days flew by when I was lying around eating bon bons and watching Oprah all day. I am really enjoying my job. That is, when I actually make it there. Take one day this past week, for example. Let's say....Wednesday I believe it was.

We were running a little late and I was still running around in my big pink poofy bathrobe trying to get William to pick his pajamas up out of the middle of the floor and brush his teeth so we could finish getting ready to get to school on time. Stuart and Catherine were (amazingly) already dressed and weren't (as of yet) demolishing anything. William (predictably) was dilly-dallying (I just love that word) around. I hollered (sweetly) "William....go straighten up your bed and get your shoes on!" Here's what he must have heard: "WILLIAM....go saw your fingers off one by one with a rusty pocket knife and when you're finished, do your toes!" Because he hurled himself into the sofa and started wailing and weeping and yelling "Nooooo......NOOOOOOOOO!"

{Give me a break.}

"NOW~!" I hollered (sweetly). And off he went into his room. And then there was a loud crash. More weeping and wailing. And I went in to find that an ornament had mysteriously jumped off the Christmas tree in William's room and shattered all over the floor. SO....I grabbed Stuart, threw him in his crib, grabbed Catherine and threw her (sweetly of course) into her room, ran to the carport (flashing the neighbors I fear) and grabbed the broom. Ran back up into the room to clean up the mess and a FRIGGIN' FROG jumped out of the broom. I screamed. William screamed. I captured the frog into a plastic playdough container, set him free out the front door, set Catherine and Stuart free, dumped the shattered glass, got myself dressed, changed a poopy diaper, loaded the wrecking crew into the van, dropped them off at school, and walked into work calm, cool and collected. They have NO IDEA. NONE!

Because I'm gooooooood.

Speaking of being good. Let's talk about Santa's little elves. Particularly that creepy little plastic faced Elf on the Shelf. I thought it was a great idea...a way to make the kids behave during the holidays if they thought the little elf was watching them to report back to Santa if they are naughty or nice. We named him Rufus. And he comes out every Thanksgiving and hangs out until Christmas. But this year William is a little smarty pants and is on to the whole gimmick. He just isn't buying it. We were on our way to school the other morning and he asked if the elf really comes alive and leaves every night to talk to Santa. Of course, I told him. He then asked what he does when he gets back. I don't know, I said. Whatever elves do.

"He eats our cookies," Catherine said matter-of-factly.

Uh, no, that would be Mama, I started to say but instead I agreed. "You're right, Catherine. He's a bad little elf. Bad little elf who eats all the cookies." I wiped some crumbs off my lips as I blamed Rufus.

Later that night I started to move the elf again and I swear he gave me the evil eye.

I swear he did.

M.I.A.

2008-11-01T06:44:00.006-05:00

Do I have any readers left? Sigh. I really wanted to make a concerted effort to keep up this blog a little more regularly than once a season but this j-o-b is really interfering with my blogging. Maybe I should reconsider. Especially if I could stay at home and blog and just live off of someone else's wealth. But I'll save my political rants for another day. Maybe Tuesday....

I was in Ohio this past week. Left on Monday. Arrived in Columbus to snow. SNOW, y'all. This southern girl nearly froze to death. One morning I walked outside to get in my car and it was covered in ice. So I jumped in the car, shivering, turned the heat up, rubbed my hands together and turned the wipers on. Because the kind of ice we get around these parts (once every other year) comes off with a couple of swipes. But nothing was happening. In fact, the wipers were frozen stiff. So I picked up that thing that looked like a hair pick the rental car man handed me when I'd picked up the car and realized he wasn't insulting my plane head but was preparing me for the elements. It took me fifteen minutes to chisel away a little peephole in the front windshield. And it's only October. What do those people do in January??? If Ohio votes for you know who my guess it's because they want to quit their jobs and stay inside where it's warm and just collect from those of us in the South who are out working. But again...I'll save that for later....

So we had Halloween. And because I was going to be gone all week, last weekend I felt the need to create a memory with the kids. So I took William to the Pumpkin Patch (ok...maybe it said Winn Dixie over the door but I told him it was the pumpkin patch) and picked out a beauty and then we got some ingredients to make caramel apples. He was so excited....and all the way home I was picturing the tender moments we would share as we made caramel apples together and pumpkin bread...it was only 75 degrees so I felt like it was cool enough to dig out my LL Bean cable knit sweater and light a fire just so we'd have the full effect in pictures....and then we pulled up in the driveway and he saw his best friend across the street. He jumped out of the car and hollered "Hey mama...you go make the apples and just call me when they're ready." And he was off.

So I made them myself. And after dinner we enjoyed them. Some of us more than others. Stuart didn't care for his. Catherine licked all the caramel off and left the apple and William ate a few bites and decided it was too stringy. So then I finished off the leftovers, including all the unused caramel.

Here are a few pictures from that project...there are none of me because I was passed out from heatstroke and in a sugar coma.

Rocket Science

2008-10-16T06:07:00.001-05:00

I had to go out of town overnight this week and left Daddy flying solo with the three. I left notes. I instructed and lectured before I left. I bought lunchables to make the lunchbox prep easier. I thought I had all the bases covered. After all, it was just one night.

I called home to check on everyone and was told by the nanny that Catherine wasn't feeling well. She had pink eyes. Was in a foul mood. And she and William both had been put in time out at school. So from three hours away I called the nurse to find out how we'd know if she truly had pink eye and what we should do about it. I found out it's a simple diagnosis. If she woke up and her eyes were glued together, it would be official. In which case they'd call in some eye drops. So I called Andy with instructions to watch out for Elmer eyes in the morning and call the Dr. I'd deal with the time out issue later. As for the foul mood....the point was???? Sounded like a typical day to me...

So the next morning I called early to check on her and Andy said the eyes were open and no sign of glue. So she just had pink eyes...not pink eyes. One crisis diverted. He said he was off to do the morning routine and get everyone ready for school. Knowing I'd left detailed instructions (and lunchables that surely could make it from the fridge into the bags) I wasn't worried. But I wished him luck nevertheless.

I was walking into my breakfast meeting when my phone rang and I saw "home" flash on the screen. I answered. I heard weeping and wailing in the background. Andy sounded desperate.

"Can you talk to Catherine? She wants to wear this little wrap shirt and bloomers to school."

"So? Let her wear her Tinkerbell costume if she wants. No one cares (something I've learned through great wisdom and experience)."

"No, not real bloomers. They're more like panties. She'd have on a shirt and panties."

"Hmmm. Mmkay. I see. Put her on."

At this point I'm standing outside the door of the restaurant holding the phone to one ear and sticking my finger in the other ear to drown out the traffic. I hear this sad little voice.

"Hey mama."

"Hey sweetie. Listen, you need to do what Daddy tells you to do. You need to wear what Daddy tells you to wear."

"Waaaaagggghhhh! But I don't wanna...."

I cut her off.

"I'LL BRING YOU A BAG OF CANDY WHEN I GET HOME!!!!!!!"

"Okay. Here, Daddy. Talk to mama."

Daddy got back on the phone.

"Ok..." I announced, "She'll wear whatever you tell her to wear."

"How'd you do that?"

"Um, I just told her to do what you tell her to. She minds me. What can I say?"

I can't let him in on all my secrets.

But here's one I should have shared. When I got home last night it was about 9:00. Andy had let William and Catherine stay up to see me. I was hugging on them and Andy said "Would you look at this?" I followed him into the baby's room "This is what Stuart did until nearly 10:00 last night and he's doing it again! I turn it off and he turns it back on and won't go to sleep!"

I looked into the room and sure enough, Stuart was reaching over next to the bed flipping the light switch on and off. I walked up to the ceiling fan, pulled the cord to turn the light off from the fan as Andy's own light (the one in his head) came on at that point and he said "Ahhhhh."

We're all adjusting.

One More Thing....

2008-10-12T20:48:00.002-05:00

I have a footnote to the last post. Add this to things that just ain't right...

William had to go potty a while ago. The kind of potty where he stays in there a really long time and then hollers out "I'm finished now" and we're supposed to do something about it. Except that he's been told that five-year-olds should take care of their own business. So lately I just don't come running very fast when I hear him beckon from beyond the closed door.

So tonight he hollered out but it sounded different, so I DID go running. Only to open the door and have him ask me to hand him his newest prized possession. A tiny little plastic two cent pirate ring that he wears on his pinkie. It was lying on the bathroom counter and he needed it. Immediately. I rolled my eyes, held my nose and handed him the ring. And left to take care of my own business....washing dishes.

A minute or so later we hear a panicked, urgent call for help. I went running while Andy continued reading the paper, barely looking up. I opened the door and find William, still sitting there, peering into the pot with a forlorn look on his face. I didn't even have to ask. He looked down again, looked back up at me and whined, "Ma....ma! My ring!"

No. Friggin'. Way.

I closed the door, walked out to where Andy was still perusing the sports page and said, "William needs you."

Let's just say that Andy's now William's hero. Had something to do with a rubber glove....some bleach....hot water....not sure what all else. But when he came to kiss me goodnight, William was proudly wearing his ring once again.

Eeew.

The things we do for love.

Things That Just Ain't Right

2008-10-12T10:25:00.000-05:00

A few weeks ago I was walking into my bedroom and looked over in the corner next to one of the french doors and saw a pile of....something. I got a little closer, somewhat comforted that there was no odor, but quite perplexed and mildly disturbed that someone or something had left a pile of indistinguishable YUCK in the corner of my room. I hollered at Andy and beckoned him over to view along with me and, very eloquently inquired, "What the CRAP is THIS?"

Upon further investigation and after opening the door and looking along the entire perimeter of the door and the outside adjourning patio, we discovered that there appeared to be a fungus among us.

So yesterday we took to removing the mess and, along with it, had to remove the door and portions of the wall, leaving a huge gaping hole in our bedroom. Very elgantly covered by a lovely plastic sheet held up by duct tape.

So today Andy is hopefully going to be able to hang the door because I'm not sure the visqueen is much of a crime deterrant. Luckily we don't get much crime in Mayberry. But you never know. There's always Mrs. Joann.

Oh, and to make this project even more fun, Catherine is sick. And I'm supposed to be leaving on Tuesday to be out of town the rest of the week. Oh, and my coffee pot is broken. And Stuart won't stop eating the dog food. And....and...I'm scared to think of what's next.

Of course then there's the election....

Sigh.

What's the Difference Between a Soccer Mom and a Gross Smelly Person Who Hasn't Even Brushed Her Teeth?

2008-09-27T10:54:00.005-05:00

Not much.

William is playing soccer this year and his enthusiasm for the sport is underwhelming.

Soccer practice rolls around on Thursday nights and Andy and I look at each other and say, "Crap! We have soccer practice?" Because William could really care less. So it really doesn't cross his mind.

Then Saturday mornings when we've barely rolled out of bed after a night of musical beds like we had last night, and Andy's planning on spending the day in the yard and I have a million errands to run, we look at each other over breakfast and say, "Crap! We have a soccer game this morning???" Then, like this morning, we realize we're already late so after getting everyone else ready, I am forced to choose between getting my pants on or brushing my teeth. I opted for pants.

Gross.

It's not that we're not happy William is playing. We were actually really excited about it. But after the first practice, William announced that he'd rather be swimming. So he spends most every practice and every game just sort of fluttering around the field, making fish faces and trying to ignore us yelling to him, "The ball, William! The ball! Kick the ball!" Sheesh.

I'm thinking this time next year we'll be going to swim meets. Michael Phelps is probably making more money than David Beckham anyway. Wouldn't ya think?

Role Reversal

2008-09-24T12:15:00.002-05:00

So yesterday I went to a management meeting at the Grand Hotel that included lunch, meetings all afternoon, and dinner. Since our nanny doesn't start until Monday, Andy picked the kids up at school, stayed home with them all afternoon and enjoyed a gourmet meal of chicken nuggets, tater tots and applesauce. I had grilled tuna, lightly seared with a pineapple/mango salsa served over a rice pilaf and seasonal vegetables. And bread pudding with whiskey sauce for dessert. But I digress.

Usually it's been me at home, answering the phone with screaming hungry children clawing and hanging off of me, when Andy calls to "check in" on his way to a business dinner at some upscale steakhouse. Yesterday I called about 5:00 to check in and when I couldn't hear him over all the screaming and carrying on, I sadly had to run and said I'd see him later. When I came home after dinner, ex-hausted from a grueling day of sitting in a chair listening to grown ups talk while I was served Dove chocolates and Diet Coke, I just had to kick my shoes off and plop down in the recliner to watch some football. I asked Andy what he'd been doing all day because it didn't look like much to me. (note: I'm truly embellishing here for creativity's sake because I have to say the house was spotless, kids were in bed and all was calm...I was QUITE impressed).

But oh how I missed my babies! I quickly changed clothes and crawled in bed with each of them just to snuggle and get some good sugar that I'd missed all day. Yesterday was really just a trial run. I don't officially start my job until Monday.

Funny thing about that meeting. See, I've been HOME for more than three years. Truly, other than Law and Order and a few re-runs of Legally Blonde, I've not been too immersed in the legal world. And I haven't been in the banking world since I was a teller one summer during college, circa nineteen-ninety-something. So as I sat there listening to all these banking officers talk, what I mostly heard was "blah blah blah blah money" and "blah blah blah loans" and "blah blah accounts". Basically, there was just a smattering of words that I recognized. Mostly from having cashed a few checks and made a few deposits myself at my local bank through the years. I have a lot to learn.

But at one point someone turned to me as I was zoning out and asked me what I thought about it. (meaning, whatever blah blah blah they'd just been discussing). I froze in fear that I was about to answer something like, "Well, um, the way I see it, I can make an analogy to the time that Dora had eight books to return to the library, but Swiper the Fox stole two of them, so she only had six left. But thanks to Map showing her the way across Tall Mountain, she and Boots the Monkey were able to get them back and she turned all eight of them in!"

Instead, I tried to toss out some legal terminology (in LATIN) that would make me sound like I actually still have a few working brain cells. So I said something like, "Um, the uh, habeas corpus of the stare decisis is very pro hac vice to me. So, um, I don't really object, your honor."

They were really impressed, I think. So far I haven't gotten a call from them saying "uh, thanks but no thanks. That will be all." So I guess we're still on for Monday!

Miss Me?

2008-09-20T19:52:00.001-05:00

Both of my faithful readers apparently have so I'm back! Back from vacation (boo hiss) but I have lots of news and lots of pictures to post.

First, the news. I'm going back to work. Well let me qualify that. I'm going to a paying job. Which means that my legal career has been resurrected (sort of). Rescued from the sewer. Resuscitated. Revived. Those who knew me in law school and recall my utter disdain for tax law, secured transactions and decedents wills & estates will find it most ironic and quite humorous that I'm going to work as a trust officer at a bank. But here's the best part...NO billable hours! Bankers' hours and bankers' holidays. My office will be just down the street from the house so when the nanny finds herself in the midst of a poo emergency (as is sure to be the case), I can (thanks to caller ID) ignore the call for help and wait to come home when the air clears. What a change this is going to be for us all!

So this is why I've been silent the past couple of weeks. Well actually we ended spending 10 days at the beach, which was fabulous. But upon returning from vacation (boo hiss) I started interviewing nannies. That's a whole other post altogether. But for now I'll just say that everything has come together nicely. I've brushed the dust off the few work clothes I have that still fit, thrown out the others that had shoulder pads and went out with the Clinton administration, and bought a few new things. My yoga pants and law school t-shirts aren't going to get as much wear in the coming days for sure.

I still plan to blog. But maybe not as faithfully as when I was depending on my blogging income to pay the bills. (and by the way I've almost hit the $25 threshold to get a payout from those ads so I'm going to try not to spend it all in one place). The best thing to do is put my blog in your google reader and then you'll be alerted when I have breaking news. In the meantime...here are some highlights from the beach trip from which we returned last Sunday (boo hiss).

No worries.

Nothing like soggy cheezits floating around the pool. Better than soggy Baby Ruths.

The little one is Sybil in disguise.

William celebrated his 5th birthday while we were there.

One of his best little friends drove over from Fairhope to spend the day with us and celebrate. (well actually his Mom drove him since his feet don't quite touch the pedals).

Catherine was terrified of the slide until she finally became brave in her Daddy's arms.

Breakfast at one of our favorite places, Tacky Jack's, the morning before Ike hit. Winds were already gusting at about 45-50 mph and the lower floor was flooded. Needless to say we dined upstairs.

Surf was UP.

Too windy to play outside, we stayed indoors and let Catherine play in my makeup. She looks a bit like Baby Jane.

Nightmarish attempt to take pictures of the three on the beach at sunset. I'd rather have been horsewhipped.

Vacation....VACATION?????

2008-09-05T08:30:00.005-05:00

I'm going crazy. We're supposed to leave in a few hours to go to the beach. I've not packed a SINGLE thing except for MY bag. Maybe somewhere deep in my psyche I'm dreaming of a solo vacation?

Usually by this time I've made lists....laid out clothes....put open bags in every room to pile stuff upon stuff in them that we'll never even use. But not this time. Seriously. We are supposed to leave in less than 4 hours. It's not that I haven't tried. It's just that packing for a "vacation" with three preschoolers is truly an exercise in futility. And I keep asking myself...why? Why?

I take two steps forward and three back so...basically...I'm making NO progress. I get out a bag to pack and Stuart puts it on his head. I sit out a couple of outfits and Stuart hauls them off and stuffs them in the warming drawer under the oven. I start trying to pack up bathroom stuff while Stuart and Catherine are bathing last night and Stuart poops in the tub. Talk about being derailed. As I scooped, scrubbed and bleached and said over and over "I'm about to barf," I then spent the next hour listening to Catherine say "What's barf, Mommy?" Took me about another hour to explain and at that point I was exhausted and just went to bed.

I really can't waste anymore time blogging. Just wanted to say that if I can manage to throw everyone in a swimsuit and a pair of underwear, we're off in a few hours. The only thing that's giving me even a tiny smidgen of hope that I might have a small semblance of a vacation is the fact that grandparents are going with us. Backup. Reinforcements. More of us than them.

I'm going to dream big and take a book to read. Without pictures.

Beware of Dog

2008-09-04T07:33:00.002-05:00

"You know what the difference is between a hockey mom and a pit bull?"

"Lipstick."

I love it.

Oh Really?

2008-09-02T12:20:00.002-05:00

William keeps us enlightened. For instance....I just overheard him explaining an important concept to Catherine over lunch. "Catherine....you need to understand. Copying someone means that if they say yes, and then you say yes, you're copying."

Catherine sat there a minute or two and then softly said, "oh."

A few minutes later she looked over at him eating his sandwich just like she was doing and announced, "Weeyum, you're copying me."

He rolled his eyes. "You just don't get it," he said.

Welcome to my world, little buddy.

Next he explained the quiet game to her. And I just happened to be at the computer working on the above entry when he started talking, so I typed this verbatim. "You have to be quiet. Then I will count to ten and if you haven't been quiet, you lose. This is how you play. If I count to one and if you, um, haven't talked you get to ride on my horsey and if I count to zero and if you have talked, you don't get to ride on my horsey."

No wonder she throws such inconsolable tantrums on a bi-hourly basis.

Something NOT Stupid

2008-08-29T12:03:00.002-05:00

Smart man. Smart woman.

Smart ticket.

Stupid Storm

2008-08-29T10:30:00.005-05:00

Sorry it's been silent 'round these parts. Been busy baking pound cakes....digging out bicycle helmets for me and the kids to wear when we hide in the closet....cooking up all the meat in the freezer....filling up bathtubs....looking out the window to make sure Jim Cantore isn't broadcasting from my front yard....stuff like that.

Stupid storm. With the stupid name. We are supposed to go to the beach next Friday for our summer vacation. We like to go in September because (a) it's cheap(er) and (b) there's no one there. Well guess what? It's cheap and desolate for a REASON! There aren't many people who wait until peak hurricane season to plan a vacation. Just stupid people.

I can name 5.

(I know I've been using the word "stupid" a lot lately...it's just been appropriate...maybe I should start a new blog...."Stuff that's stupid.")