That's-Not-My-Kid Thursday

It's been a busy day of laundry and kindergarten class volunteering which doesn't leave much room for blogging. Even still it is Thursday. And you know what that means!

What kind of a mommy week has it been for you? Are you proud to claim your posterity or denying the genetic ties that bind?

As for me, it's been a pretty good week. Short of wanting to auction off one of my kiddos...But besides that, I can't complain. Shocked??

With no juicy stories of embarrassing mommy moments, can I take a different approach for That's-Not-My-Kid Thursday this week?

This little man is not my kid, but I still get to claim a little lot of maternal love and affection.

Meet my newest nephew, Micah Daniel!

Born: Tuesday, September 28, 2010
Weight: 8 lbs 14 oz
Length: 22 inches
Proud parents: Tyler and Camille (my sister)

Lots of dark hair and chub! SO CUTE!! Congratulations on your reunion, little family!

That's not my kid, but I'll take him anyway!

Got a mortified mommy moment of your own? Write a post and leave your link in the comments. Happy Thursday!


Auction Item #070708: 2 Year Old Child

*tap, tap, tap*

Your attention please.

The next item up for bid is my two year old child. This item has entered our auction as it has recently become overwhelming for the current possessor.

The exterior is in fantastic condition. Adorable facial features, lovely blond hair, brilliant little smile. Tall and sturdy frame.

The hot and cold features are in working order. Sometimes this item is sweet, loving, singing songs, drawing pictures, giving hugs, happy, and responsive. Other times it is destructive, sassy, messy, hitting, and screaming, whining, or crying.

There is some question about the reliability of the internal plumbing this morning. There may be a "slight" case of diarrhea that could cause for some embarrassing visit-teaching moments. The inspector also suspects a major gas leak.

This item currently resides between nap-time and time-out, but is DEFINITELY mobile. Most often functions at high speeds and loud volumes.

Will require constant maintenance and monitoring, but will pay for itself with the high-yield output of hugs, kisses, sweet little songs, giggles, grins, and little golden moments.

The bidding will now start at one Milky Way Midnight candy bar. Do I hear two??

Do I hear a case of MWMs, A Dr. Pepper on ice, date night with a nice meal AND a movie, and a two-hour long uninterrupted nap???



Magic Mom Moments and Muddy Buddies

People ask me all the time if my kids ride the bus to school. When I tell them no, the response is usually the same: "Oh that's too bad. What a pain to go back and forth." And it is a little bit of a pain as I go back and forth a total of four times a day (twice for Dee who is in full-day Kindergarten, twice for Jeigh who is in afternoon Preschool).

But why would I want to send them on the bus and miss out on mornings like this morning?

This morning, like any other morning, I pulled up to the school. Dee was sitting in the front passenger seat. Usually he bounds out the door before I can hardly put the van in park. This morning, he lingered. I don't think he was sad or reluctant. He just lingered. It was a sweet moment, that I didn't want to end, but that school bell has no patience for sweet lingering moments.

I prompted him to go. After a quick hug and kiss, he did. As he ran to the building he turned and waved to me. Ran a few feet, turned and waved. Ran, turned, waved. Ran, turned, waved. The whole way to the gate.

I watched.
I waved back.
I audibly uttered "I love that boy!" to nothing but an empty cold van.
I {almost} cried. How can he seem so big and so small all at the same time??

I clicked a mental pic. I want to remember the grey hood pulled up over his head. The batman backpack, almost as big as he is, bouncing on his shoulders. His big scrunchy grin that helps him keep his broken glasses on his nose. The flailing arms and legs and coat that surely one day he will coordinate. How he pointed to the school when he got close to make sure I knew exactly where he was headed. How small and sweet he is. How big and wonderful he is getting. How much he loves and trusts me at this moment. Why would I ever want to miss out on this?

I'll send him on a bus when he's fourteen and he thinks I am a dork and walks out the door with a sullen look on his face and a surly comment under his breath.

Can we just stay in Kindergarten forever?

P.S. I mentioned Muddy Buddies in my post yesterday. It always surprises me that there are still people out there who have yet to know the chocolaty, peanut-buttery, crunchy goodness of Muddy Buddies (or Puppy Chow or "Tummy Yummies" as my little brood calls them). Here's the recipe. You are welcome.

Muddy Buddies

(This recipe can easily be doubled...Go ahead and double it...you know you want to!)
  • 9 cups of Chex cereal (I like a mixture of rice and corn)
  • 1 cup semi-sweet chocolate chips
  • 1/2 cup peanut butter
  • 1/4 cup margarine
  • 1/4 tsp vanilla
  • 1 & 1/2 cup powdered sugar
Measure out cereal into a large bowl (make sure you have a lid that fits). Combine chocolate chips, PB, and margarine in microwave-safe bowl and microwave for 1 to 1 and 1/2 minutes stirring after first minute. Remove from microwave, add vanilla, and stir well. Pour chocolaty goodness over cereal and stir until all pieces are well-coated. Add powdered sugar. Cover and shake it like a Polaroid picture until all pieces are "dusted". (You may want to add more powdered sugar depending on how you like it.)

If you don't have a bowl handy or just want to save yourself some time on dishes later, try using a large Ziploc bag for your shaking. (Unfortunately, this means you can probably only do one batch...at a time.)

I like my Muddy Buddies "aged" in the fridge for a couple of hours or even overnight.



Maybe I Did, Maybe I Didn't Monday

I'm betting there is a meme out there for my little title and dear blogger, I promise I am not stealing. Leave a comment and consider yourself linked and credited. This is a one time thing.

I notice how often the phrase "I may or may not have..." is tossed around the blogosphere. I've been guilty of using it myself.

Frankly, it kind of irritates me. Grates on me like nails on a chalkboard. That and the word "Okay." at the beginning of every bloody sentence. (I'm going to blame my irritability on my current raging hormonal state and leave it that.)

Here's the thing... I DO use the phrase "maybe I did, maybe I didn't" sometimes on here, much to my own chagrin. And people, I just need to get it out of my system. SO! Without further ado, in an attempt to purge my bloggy system of this over-used term, here it is:

My Maybe I Did, Maybe I Didn't Monday blog post.

I may or may not have slammed the door in the neighbor girl's face after she knocked on my door for the fifth (not exaggerating) time this morning, asking if my kids could come play, and asking "Why?" when I told her they could not. That's why!

She may or may not have come back a sixth and seventh time. (She did.)

I may or may not be wearing the exact same shirt I wore three times last week. And I may or may not be willing to buy any more new maternity clothes. It's only three more months. I can deal. Maybe.

I may or may not have lied to my children today. "No, there aren't anymore Muddy Buddies left" when I knew perfectly well there was a hidden stash in the back of the fridge. Maybe I did...Maybe I didn't.

I may or may not be taunting my nine months and two days pregnant sister by text and Face book today. After being taunted by her little "Ha ha! I have less weeks than you have months!" maybe I waited to have the last laugh. After going nine days over my due date during a record hot July summer with baby Jeigh, maybe I feel very little pity for other overdue preggies. "Maybe you should have thought about the consequences of your actions nine months ago, hmm?"

Maybe I did, maybe I didn't actually build a log cabin replica out of tootsie rolls only days after accusing other "perfect" bloggers of making Eiffel Tower replicas out of Popsicle sticks. Thanks for the inspiration ladies and So what?

I may or may not have taken the Anonymous comment option off of my blog for reasons other than all the foreign spam I have been getting lately. My emotional state may or may not be in too delicate a state these days to take a little well-meant constructive criticism.

I may or may not be hosting a That's-Not-My-Kid Thursday post this week. Maybe you ought to prepare a Thursday post and be ready to find out.

I may or may not be contemplating shutting down my online social life for awhile so that I can focus on my family, children, house, and self for awhile. Maybe I am, maybe I'm not. (I don't think even I know the answer to that one.)

Maybe I did and maybe I didn't throw on some clothes and practically ran out the door to go to CVS after seeing an Intelligender commercial, prepared to spend $35 on a unreliable gender prediction test. Maybe I did and maybe I didn't. (I'll admit it. I totally did. And now I have plans to conduct a few experiments using several different kinds of gender prediction tests, from old wives' tales to the patented products. Thanks for the idea, Brittany! Know of one I should try? Leave me a comment!)

Maybe I did, maybe I didn't already earn and save all the money myself to pay for Christmas this year. And maybe I do and maybe I don't have plans in place for Joes' Christmas present this year. Who knows? Only me and Santa!

I may or may not be weaning myself off of TV, especially Grey's Anatomy. I may or may not have totally forgotten about Premiere Week and I may or may not feel rather proud of that.

Maybe I am and maybe I'm not totally dying to go thrifting again.

Maybe after watching this I'd also like to tell you all how you are all precious daughters of God and that I love all of you and am sorry for ever being critical of any of you and for writing this post which seemed to have the opposite of the desired effect. Definitely-maybe I'd like to tell you that. But maybe I'm also a little embarrassed of appearing like some kind of cheesy, crazed religious zealot or of just saying all the wrong things and only making it worse. Maybe I am and maybe I'm not.

Maybe I am tired of writing this post and thinking it was a dumb idea or maybe I'm not. And maybe I'm too busy with other things today to go back and change it.

So what mights or might nots have you been up to lately?

Hopefully I got that all out of my system. Now, maybe I can stop irritating myself. Ha!


"...and TOTALLY redeem yourself!"

(Quick! Name the movie I got that title from!)


Remember how bummed out I was that my kids failed to retain the true lesson behind our little tootsie roll project?

Just now, I was cruising around on my blog and Jeigh walked up beside me. She pointed to the picture of Abraham Lincoln and states, "That guy was a great man. The best man in America."

GASP! By golly! I think she's got it!

Me: That's right, Jeigh! Do you remember his name?

Jeigh: ...pause...pause...pause...Umm...Callahan Lincoln.

That's close enough!!

{sigh} It's these moments that make being a mom the best job there is! I mean, come on! Who else gets to "work" with chocolate and reap the even sweeter rewards later?


Symfully Sweet Saturday

Has it become apparent how fond I am of Sami over at Symmetry in Motion yet? My Blogger hyperlink button almost has her website link memorized. For how much I talk about her at home, I'm just waiting for my husband to say, "Well, why don't you just marry her then?!".

Well, it's all one big fat ploy I tell you. I've just spent the last several months buttering her up so I can win THIS little contest!

Symfully Sweet Saturday
Sami is hosting her first linky party and it promises to be saaaaaa-wweeeet!

The Big Idea: Sami picks a candy each month and we, the bloggers, looking for any viable excuse to bring more candy into our homes think of something fun and creative to DO with that candy. (Check out THIS post and see what other linked up bloggers have done.)

As for me and my household...

We are in education mode around these parts. With two little ones in school and one dying (and crying) to go every time she sees her siblings putting on their backpacks, I just knew I had to take a scholarly approach to our little tootsie roll assignment. I bought my supplies (one KING-sized bag of tootsie rolls) and set about brainstorming for a few days.

I can't really remember how I came to it, only that I woke at 4 am, absolutely convinced I had the most brilliant and winning idea for our monster-sized bag of tootsie rolls. (Anyone else think they have one up on Einstein at 4 am too? Did you ever notice that by 9 am, those 4 am ideas somehow lose some of their potency?)

My Big Idea: Tootsie Rolls=Abraham Lincoln

That's right! Chewy little chunks of chocolate and Good ol' Abe! Wait for it.

First of all I showed the kids some pictures of Abraham Lincoln and explained who he was. We learned that Abe is the man who appears on one of Jeigh's favorite things: pennies!

Did you know?

...Abe's mother died when he was nine years old (she was only 34). His father remarried and, whew! no evil step-mothers here, Abe loved his step-mother even calling her "Mother".

...he only had 18 months of official classroom instruction. He was a self-educated man.

...he hated hard work and was even considered lazy by his family and friends.

...Abe was a talented wrestler.

...Abe didn't like to kill animals and refused to hunt and fish.

...Abe suffered from "melancholy" or clinical depression as we would call it these days.

...he had only one child live to adulthood. Abraham's wife, Mary, was committed to a "mental health asylum" after suffering the losses of her sons and husband.

And of course, the one thing we all remember from grade-school...Abraham Lincoln grew up in a one-room log cabin. And what do you build log cabins out of? Lincoln logs. And what yummy little candy bears an uncanny resemblance to Lincoln logs? TOOTSIE ROLLS!

After our little history lesson about one of the greatest men who lived, we set about making log cabins out of our pile of tootsie rolls.

Elle's technique: Build a log cabin in her tummy. At least that's where all her "Lincoln logs" went.

Jeigh had a more abstract vision for her log cabin. Although I doubt it would be very useful in keeping out rain and attacking Indians, it sure had an artistic feel. Maybe it would look nice on the hearth of the fireplace of someone else's cabin.

I was totally impressed with Dee's engineering mind. He immediately set about building a stable structure with support and symmetry (extra points, Sami?). As you can see by his expression, he was pretty darn proud too. And he was the one to stick with me the longest on our project. The girls wandered off about as quickly as they got their fill of sugar for the week.

Here's the beginning of our official little house on the prairie.

And here's the {almost} finished result, Pre-Abe Lincoln residence. Dee and Jeigh helped me figure out to make the roof. Couldn't have done it without them.

And never one to leave well-enough alone...A little Abe Lincoln to live in the little log cabin. I thought the penny added a nice touch. Maybe he could use it to buy a door so he can actually get in his house. (Oops!)

We were pretty proud of our afternoon logging skills. The kids so much so that they gave free house tours to all the neighbor kids for the rest of the day.

At the end of the day, when Joe got home from work and found what we had been up to, I lined up the children, prepared to amaze him with the sweet rewards of my home-school efforts. I told the kids, "Go ahead and tell Daddy who we learned about today!".

... ... ... {blank stares}

The lasting impression: Tootsie rolls make good houses.

Oh well.

Maybe I at least have a chance of winning Sami's linky party with my original and one-of-a-kind idea...

Wait a second!! Rats! Looks like great minds think alike.

Well, it was a fun afternoon spent with my kids anyway. Thanks for the inspiration Sami! And for hosting the "symfully" fun linky party!

And I promise I'm not just saying that to convince you to pick me. But if it helps...


Tag! You're 8!

I love a good tag, don't you? It's always fun getting to know others a little better and sharing a better little of yourself. Right.

Thanks to my BFF (BLOG Friends Forever) Sami for the tag. I am feeling the love, lady!

So! Here it is, quick and dirty. Eight questions for me to answer. With eight new questions for eight people I tag to answer at the end. Ready? GO!

1.Do you collect anything? What is it? If not, do you WISH you did?

Perfect strangers seem to feel the need to comment on my collection of children. I believe one woman's comment at a gas station in the middle of nowhere last week was: "Don't you have cable?". Yup. How do you think I entertain the herd when I need to take a shower?

Other than sticky fingerprints and cuddle sessions galore, I also collect picture frames. One might say it has become a sick addiction. Ahem--JOE! It just kills me to have them all still boxed away, but somehow I don't think my tin can walls are up to the task. I also love old books and would really love to collect editions of "Pride and Prejudice", my favorite classic novel.

P.S. I still have my rock collection from when I was a kid. Just can't seem to let it go. It has followed us over six moves in our married life. Maybe I just keep it for the laughs I get when some poor innocent moving volunteer hefts that box and jokingly asks, "Whaddya got in here??? Rocks?!".

2.What room in your house would you most like to remodel? Would your answer change if someone else was paying for it?

My dream is to walk away from this rented heap of a trailer whilst throwing a match over my shoulder in its general direction. In the meantime I have zero plans to remodel it. It probably couldn't take it anyway.

3.What is your LEAST favorite chore? Do you hate it enough to get a maid to do it, or are you too anal for that?

Sweeping and mopping. I think the summer I worked at a boy scout camp as the "lodge stewardess" crippled my sweeping and mopping skills for life. I would diligently work for hours sweeping and mopping all the dust and dirt out of the main lodge/cafeteria/meeting room only to have delinquent staff members track mud and junk all over it again and AGAIN.

There was this one time at boy scout camp (sorry...couldn't resist) when I had just--JUST!--finished the final mop swipe and two jerks who purposefully stomped through a mud puddle collecting as much crud as they could, barged into the lodge, running and sliding ALL OVER EVERY INCH OF MY CLEAN FLOOR! Right in front of my eyes and gaping mouth!! I couldn't even believe someone could be that cruel. Damaged goods. That's me when it comes to mopping. And yep, I would totally pay someone else to do it. Joe obliges sometimes. When he does he gets lots of free hugs and kisses and pumpkin bread.

4. Have you ever broken a bone? What, and how?

Nope. Always wanted to though. I was jealous of the special treatment those crippled kids got. Whiny little fakers.

5. Music. Do you have a go to album that you play to get you motivated, or do you just blare the radio, and pray that something peppy comes on?

I am too computer-impaired to figure out how to use an iPod or mp3 player. The best I can do is type in http://www.pandora.com/ in my search engine and click on my "Glee" station. In no time, my house practically cleans itself. Short of sweeping and mopping of course. Moving on.

6.How do you keep track of your schedule? Old fashioned calendar? Set alerts on your phone? Fly by the seat of your pants, and pray you don't forget a Parent/Teacher conference?

I like to use a carefully orchestrated combination of all three techniques. If I'm lucky the combo will get me where I need to go. If that doesn't work, I like to pull the pregnancy card. That placenta brain actually comes in handy sometimes. Why do you think I keep getting pregnant? It's not for collecting purposes, that's for sure.

7. Cooking, baking, or neither?

I never thought I was much of a cook, but these days I can't get enough of the Food Network. I always turn off the TV thinking: I want to do that! And oddly enough, in the midst of a pregnancy where it is typical to avoid food and food preparation, I am doing it! I have started trying new recipes and buying new ingredients and...it is fun! I've already asked Santa for a good set of knives and a food processor. {fingers crossed}

8. Are you brand name specific, or are generics just as good? What is one product you would NEVER replace with a generic brand?

I'll admit it. I am a white-trash, repeat-offender, loyal Walmart patron. No coupon clipping here. Great Value works great for me. EXCEPT for diapers. Walmart diapers are worth about as much as what they are intended to hold. Oh and cheese! Tillamook, anyone?

So, now it's your turn.

Here are the eight people I tag. (And it's not a rating, People. I love you all the same and there are only eight spots. If you want to play along, go for it! The more the merrier!)

1. Cannwin
2. Myya
3. Teresa with an apostrophe over the e! ;)
4. Kjerstin
5. Sarah C.
6. Katy R.
7. Lisa T.
8. Shortmama

And here are your eight questions to answer:

1. Did you swear you'd never do something when you became a parent and now find yourself doing? Fess up.

2. If you could only eat three foods for the rest of your life, what would they be?

3. Retell your worst dating experience.

4. What was the most recent thing that made you cry?

5. Favorite childhood memory. Go!

6. What piece of advice have you received that you will NEVER forget? Good or bad.

7. You're driving, approaching an intersection and the light is yellow. What do you do? Would your answer change if your kids weren't in the back seats? Would your answer change if your mother-in-law was in the passenger seat?

8. What do you do to keep your eye on the prize when it all just gets to be too much?

Can't wait to read your answers! Thanks again Sami!

Happy Friday everybody!


Taco Soup Magic

There is something about cooking a big pot of soup on my stove top that makes me feel like a witch and Betty Crocker all at the same time. It's magic.

This is what was for dinner last night and for some reason (maybe it was the frog legs or eye of newt) it was particularly delicious.

Taco Soup

1 medium onion, chopped
1 pound hamburger
1 pkt taco seasoning

1 quart stewed tomatoes
1 can V8
1 can beef broth
1 can corn, drained and rinsed
1 can black beans, drained and rinsed
salt and pepper to taste

shredded cheddar
sour cream

Saute chopped onion in a little bit of oil heated in big cauldron pot. Add hamburger and taco seasoning. Cook and stir until hamburger is browned. Add remaining ingredients. Bring to simmer. Stir every now and then, allowing enough cooking time for all ingredients to heat through and for tomatoes to "break down". Cackling is optional.

Serve in a bowl over crushed chips. Add shredded cheese and sour cream for extra calories yumminess.

What's for dinner at your cottage?


Wednesday's Mother

Today I am...

...still shuddering from my nightmare about snakes.

...tackling the laundry before the laundry is oppressive enough to tackle me on Saturday.

...talking to Dee's teacher about the little girl in his class who swindled him out of his lunch money yesterday by promising him a car.

...working to have the self control to finish my chores first before diving head first into this flannel.

...calling my mom.

...racking my brain to figure out how to stretch an already too tight budget that took a $600 car repair hit this week.


...hoping to find a pediatric ophthalmologist for Dee that isn't three and half hours away.

...patting myself on the back that the dishes are already done this morning.

...worrying about how to gracefully address some of the responses I got to my Monday morning proclamation.

...smiling at this...

...wishing I had a friend who lived within a 25 mile radius.

...sure to visit this website.

...counting my chicks before they hatch.

...thinking about my obscenely pregnant sister.

...going to add Mary Shelley's Frankenstein to my reading list.

...curious about how adoption works.

...still a little bitter about that crummy ultrasound experience last week.

...struggling to think positively.

...sporting my "new" kicks.

What are you doing today?



Putting My Club Foot Forward

You know how we all write about "those" bloggers???

You know the ones... The popular ones with beautiful blog layouts, bigger-than-life pictures, droves of followers, fancy schmancy ideas, and loads of time on their hands which they fill by spending ridiculous amounts of quality time with their perfectly dressed and groomed children, building Eiffel Tower replicas out of popsicle sticks or single-handedly saving a third-world village through a handmade headband fundraiser. That or working out and running 15 miles every morning to maintain that pre-baby body for their super hot, super successful "DH", or skillfully refurbishing every piece of wood, fabric, or metal within a 100 mile-radius.

Those ones.

Well, if you've read much of my blog, you know I am not one of "those" bloggers. Where they like to put their best self on screen, I go for a different technique.

If I tried to put my best foot forward this would be the most boring blog on the planet. I could see it going something like this...

"Look, look 13 followers! I did the laundry today!"

Or "Hey! Comment on how I finally got those dishes washed AND put away! Woohoo!"
Or maybe, I would tell you how awesome I was to get this cupboard cleaned, all the while knowing those papers simply transplanted to one big fat laundry basket to be sifted through "later". But I would NEVER tell you that because I am the "perfect" housewife and mother, remember? At least that's what my blog would tell you.
Or I would tell you how I bathe the kids twice a week or how everyone's teeth are brushed or how we {try to} say prayers every day or how perfect my children are.

So. Not. Interesting.

It's so much funnier to see the chaos, the drama, the big fat FAIL, don't you think? That's because I assume you are laughing WITH me, not AT me. Which you are, right? RIGHT?! Besides, sometimes your comments show that you RELATE. You mean you live real lives too???

I love telling you about all the spilled milks and the public nudities and the maniacal neighbor girls. Plus, who wants to hear their own horn tootin' away all the time? Booooorrrring.

And you do get that I tend to be sarcastic on here sometimes, right? Example: my husband are NOT even close to divorce over the $100 I spent at DI. On the contrary, I think he was grateful for all the back-to-school clothes I found. I know sarcasm doesn't translate so well onscreen sometimes, but honestly, in real life, I am not such a failure. Not always.

I don't feel the need to post it on here every day, but TODAY, I want to say:

I mess up a lot and do so many stupid things. I can be lazy and grouchy.


I am a good person. I am a good wife. I am a good mom. I do good things.

Like what you say? Well...

I read to my kids.
I take them to the library.
I work to expose my children to different events and cultures and foods.
I take them to the park at least once a week, if not more.
I try new recipes.
I wash bed sheets often.
I teach those kids to say thank you and please.
I help them make thank you notes when they receive gifts.
I don't let them watch Nickelodeon or Cartoon Network.
I kiss my husband everyday.
I give breastfeeding a good solid 9 months before calling it quits.
I don't let my kids eat tons of junk.
I never forget to feed my kids. (Now, as for my husband...)
I keep taking three irreverent children to church each week by myself because I know it's the right thing to do.
I don't let my kids listen to Lady Gaga. (So what if they know the words to "Single Ladies"?!)
I don't smoke, drink, or do drugs in front of my kids. (Do I need to clarify I don't do it not in front of them either?)
I teach my kids how to fold their clothes, put their dishes in the sink, wash their hands, and flush the toilet.
I enlist their aid in cleaning house.
I make them dress themselves.
I take care of the paperwork and bills.
I try to express to my husband OFTEN how grateful I am for his hard work at his job.
I tell my kids I love them EVERY day.
I teach my children that all people are Children of God and deserve to be loved and respected.

What good do YOU do?

It's not a contest. It's not arrogance. It's not something I'm likely to repeat much. It's just a Monday morning proclamation that behind this cranky, crusty, snarky, lazy, failing blog front there is a mom/wife/girl who is TRYING to do some good in the world.

How about you? Come on. Don't be shy! I know you do good things too! Tell us all about it!


Fumbling-to-Find-the-Fun Friday Flop

You wanna know what's fun?: Going "home" for a visit.

You wanna know what's NOT fun?: Going home for a visit because of a funeral.

Fun: Thrift-store shopping!!

Not fun: Guiltily admitting to your husband that you spent $100 at Deseret Industries alone (and trying not to blab about the money spent at the other two thrift stores, antique shop, and fabric store).

Fun: Eating fresh, warm cheese soup from your favorite hometown bakery on the way out of town.

Not fun: Eating the first bite of your fresh, warm cheese soup and then hearing your son who is sitting in the back seat of the van announce that he has just thrown up.

Even more not fun: Watching, frozen in place with shock and disgust, as he continues to empty his stomach of everything he ate over the past three days...all over himself and the back seat of the van you were planning on traveling in for the next five hours.

Fun-ny: Thinking, "How could I tactfully get a picture of this for the blog without my husband being irritated at my need to share everything about my life?".

Not fun-ny: Deciding it wouldn't be worth the marital discord for one nasty shot of your son and backseat covered in puke only to hear your husband suggest an hour later it would have been a "funny" thing to get a picture of.

Fun: Eating fresh corn on the cob from your mom's garden.

Not fun: Realizing it's all gone.

Fun: Getting home after a trip so you can sleep in your own bed and hang out in your underwear again.

Not fun: No longer being able to ignore this...
or this...
or this...

Fun: Rubbing bellies with your pregnant sister.

Not fun: Realizing for the millionth time that you are fatter than your sister even though she is twice as pregnant. (See how cool we are flashing how many months pregnant with our hands.)

Fun: Getting to see your baby on ultrasound.

Not fun: Having a sleepy baby, pushy placenta, and cranky doctor who is "too busy" to take the time to show you the ultrasound or find out if your baby is a he or a she. I may or may not have cried in my car afterwards out of pure frustration and disappointment. I'll never say! Looks like three more weeks of waiting to get to know my little one a little better. {sigh}

Super Fun!!!: Participating in Sami's Quince Quote game at Symmetry in Motion. Go check it out! It's easy to enter and even easier to get sucked into her blog fun/goodness!

Not fun: Realizing I actually knew this movie whereas I didn't know all the chick-flicks she has done in months past.

Super not fun: Not winning, but I'm not too worried about that this time. I've got a good feeling about this one. {fingers crossed}

What's so fun and not fun at your house these days???


You can take the girl out of the thrift store...

...but you can't take the thrift store out of the girl.

Oh the glorious day I had yesterday! Thanks to this bold and creative lady over at The Rowdy Stroudy's, as well as her tales of her forays into the wilds of Good Will and nearby consignment shops (read here or here), I was hankering for a visit to a thrift store. Practically drooling. I haven't been able to find one in our new little town yet. What is an obsessive-compulsive thrift-store addict like me to do?

This week, we have found ourselves in our hometown preparing to attend the funeral of Joe's family member. We have also found ourselves with a little time on our hands. Joe took the boy and I took the girls. Off we went on our merry little ways, me with my mom as my trusty shopping partner, eagerly anticipating an afternoon spent basking in thrift-store glory.

And I was not disappointed.

I have scratched my itch. (For a few weeks at least.)

I could feel myself becoming increasingly giddy as we went from thrift store to antique shop to bagelry to thrift store to fabric store to thrift store! What a perfect day spent!

May I share my spoils with you?

$4.00 for shoes my husband thinks are "Uuuugly!". So what? I think "so ugly they are cool" and the tread has ZERO wear AND they fit me. That is a miracle in and of itself for the Jolly Green Giant Boat-Feet Pregnant Lady.

A Chinese Checkers wall hanging from an antique shop. Oh, the memories of Sunday evenings spent with family at my Grandpa and Grandma Miles' house...

$2+ for a string of Halloween lights. I paid a little too much if you ask me, but when lit up they are pretty cute. Halloween, here we come!

25 cents per book! (for hardcovers, for Caldecott winners, for practically brand-new, for classics like Amelia Bedelia, Spot, and Berenstain Bears!) The kids and I are excited to add to our growing collection.

$1.00 for an addition to my Christmas decorations. I have this weak spot for shabby chic metal deco. This tree opens up and holds a candle. Love the metal! Love the color!

Did I mention my weakness for metal decor? That goes double for lanterns and bird cages. Oh look! Something that combines all three! I must make it my own.

Metal, again. But copper-ish metal! Ooooo! I have no idea what to do with this, but at a $2.00, I imagine I can figure out something cool.

I have a dream...that one day I shall live in a house of my own. And on that day, I shall paint and accessorize and decorate and design a room full of soothing blues and earthy, rich, chocolaty browns. And upon that day, this plate shall rest in that room, completing the ambiance in that room as nothing else can. Aaaaahhhh...

I love games. I love old stuff. I love old games. Especially ones that come in cute little vintage-looking suitcases. Especially for $2.00. Backgammon anyone?

And don't let me forget, the garbage-bag full of back-to-school clothes for the kids. I've got to take advantage of it before they care that their clothes are used. But that's for another post, another day...

As for this day, it was fantastic. Amazing how a day digging through another man's trash can be so treasured. I think even my little hoarding hobby heirs had a good time...


Nine Years is a Long Time...

Nine years ago and the emotions of that day never seem to dissipate. Every single September 11th I find myself weeping and aching.

I wonder if I will feel that way every September 11th for the rest of my life.

I hope I do.

I have not forgotten.


Dear Someone

Dear Hanging by a Silver Lining Readers,

Did I mention how much I love you? Yep. I was so bold as to use the "l" word. It's absolutely shallow of me, but it warms me to the little fetus within to see that map at the bottom of my blog fill with stars each day showing that someone visited my little corner of the blogosphere. Thank you so much for coming, for commenting, for caring! It makes my day, every day! If only I could send each and everyone of you a little something-something...♥♥♥

Sincerely, Evelyn

P.S. If I may be so tacky, you can at least have my new little button (check out the right side bar). And an extra big thank you to Teresa at All4Speakers for not only creating it, but suggesting I have one in the first place. I LOVE IT!

... ... ...

Dear Commentators on my Bullying Begins? post,

I never expected to receive such an outpouring of concerned and conscientious advice. THANK YOU!! It meant a lot to know there were other parents out there experiencing similar situations. I appreciated the wise words!

Just to give you a little update: I did talk to Dee's teacher and she is on top of it. She is a great teacher and I trust her to do everything she can. We also began talking to Dee that he has every right to protect himself if the need arises. I was not really sure how to handle that part and I especially appreciated what you all said. Thank you again!

Dee-san's Mom

... ... ...

Dear 3 year old Neighbor Girl,

Can't you take a hint?! If no one answers the door after FIFTEEN (NO exaggeration here!) minutes of knocking at my door, windows, and up and down the side of my house, GO HOME! My kids are at school and the youngest one is trying to take a nap while I am trying to get some work done. I don't answer anymore because you never seem to accept my answers anyway when I do open the door.

Besides you're kind of a brat. I don't appreciate you spraying my kids with your hose every time they play outside, including my barely 2 year old little girl. I don't like your little yappy, nippy dog coming into my house. I don't want you taking my kids' toys outside anymore. I am tired of finding your shoes and toys all over my house and porch.

I am sick of feeding you lunch, serving you glasses of water non-stop, and providing you with a bathroom when your house is only a few yards away. Especially when I find the water running and my son's clothes dropped in the toilet after you are done.

When I ask you to leave my house, you should. I know I am not your mom, but this is MY house and I don't think I should have to explain to you over and over again why you need to leave when I say you need to leave. I know both your parents are home all day. I know you are well-fed and loved. So go home and eat and be loved and LEAVE ME ALONE!

Sign Me,
Beginning to Feel Like a Prisoner in My Own House and Too Afraid to Tell Your Parents How Crazy You Make Me

... ... ...

Dear Life,

You are all too precious and fleeting. We just discovered that you left Joe's cousin's wife the other day. She was only 31 years old and had two children (one under a year old). Her family thought she only had the stomach flu and let her rest. Her husband was laying by her in bed when you quietly abandoned her, leaving her family mother-less and wife-less. I am ever-grateful that you choose to stay here and I wouldn't mind if you felt so inclined to continue staying for a very long time. I can see I take you for granted all too often. I am grateful for you and hope I make the most of you after hearing this tragic news.

Contemplating the Great Mysteries of You

... ... ...

Dear People Who Have Asked if I Know What I'm Having Yet,

Nope. But by the 17th of September, I should.
(Don't be modest, baby!)

Hoping for a Man-Child

... ... ...

Dear Long Hair,

That's it! I can't take it anymore. I realized the other day that I couldn't even remember the last time I had the opportunity to spend some quality time with you. How long has it been since you've felt the warm draft of a blow dryer or the curl of hot rollers? Exactly. Looks like we have very little use for each other anymore. Joe may miss you once you are gone, but you are too high-maintenance and these four kids are sucking all the maintenance out of me. Time to make the cut.

The Girl with the Eternal Sloppy Ponytail

... ... ...

Dear Joe,


Love, The Neglected Long-haired Wife for Not Much Longer

... ... ...

Dear Rainy, Cold Day,


Warm regards,
Sitting Inside, Snuggling Up, and Sipping Chocolate

... ... ...

Go over and visit ShortMama at Family of Shorts to see more Dear Someones!


That's-Not-My-Kid Thursday

It's high time for a That's-Not-My-Kid Thursday Link Up, don't ya' think?

Here's mine. After you read it, make sure to post your mortified mommy moment on your own blog and link up at the bottom. Or just share in the comments. Whatever floats your boat.

On Tuesday evening Dee (5), Elle (2), and I sat in the lobby of Jeigh's (4) dance studio while she was in her ballet class. Parents and siblings aren't allowed in the actual dance rooms, I assume to allow the students to completely focus on the teacher.

They have placed a screen in the lobby so that parents can watch from a distance. The TV screen has four smaller screens within: One for Jeigh's dance class, a second dance class, a piano class, and an empty room that has two bathrooms leading off of it.

My five-year old son Dee is enthralled with the concept of this monitoring system. He's clever enough that he's figured out where that empty room is and realizes it's being monitored.

This particular day, he asked if he could go to the bathroom.

Me: "Sure, do you know where it is?"

Dee: "Yep!" and runs off to answer the call of nature.

Elle is asking me to read to her so I get a little distracted. Before long, I refocus on the monitor to watch Jeigh's class when to my horror I see my son on the bottom left hand of the screen, walking out of the bathroom with his pants down around his ankles. He's hardly paying attention to his clothing situation. He's intent on finding one thing: the camera. Which he does and begins waving like he's in a parade.

Knowing I can't get back to him quickly enough or yell loud enough to be heard, I send a wish up to the Northern Star that he'll get his pants pulled up before he turns six, or at least before the lobby full of moms see him and make the connection who's streaking child this is.

After awhile he finally gets his pants back up {whew} but then begins break dancing...or seizing (I couldn't really tell) on the floor. Do I dare hope the other moms still haven't seen? Nope. I hear the snickers behind me.

So now I ask myself: Do I claim him or pretend he belongs to the bored looking dad standing outside the building?

I never get the chance to salvage my own dignity, never mind his, when he runs down the hall, hops on my lap, and says loudly, "Mommy! Did you see me waving?? DID YOU?!"


Bullying Begins?

This morning I overheard my five-year old son, Dee, asking Jeigh (four) if he could come to her class from now on. I was confused. I was under the impression he loved school. Then I heard him tell her he needed new friends because "the boys in red shirts" were being mean to him.


I had to find out what was going on. When I tried to investigate without being accusational (innocent until proven guilty, right?), I was further frustrated. Getting details from a five-year old can be less than satisfying.

As far as I could gather from what Dee was saying was that there was a group of boys in red shirts at school that were pushing and pulling on him. Sometimes they'd even hit him. Mr. Cook (the principal) would get mad at them, but then they would hide from the principal and keep doing it. It was distressing enough for Dee that he wanted to go to preschool with Jeigh in search of new friends. When I asked if I should talk to his teacher about it, he said no.

I am confused. This is a first for me as a mom. Do I believe my son, who just may have been watching a little too much Karate Kid with his dad and mixing reality with fiction? or do I just let it go and wait to hear if it happens again, then take care of it? I don't dare ask his dad because I know what his response would be; the man has watched the Karate Kid series multiple times since we have been married. There's a reason.

It makes me so sad that this is happening already. The boy has been in Kindergarten for barely three weeks. Kids aren't mean at this stage are they? Or is this just the beginning of many years of bullying to come? (By the way, I am not naive enough to think it won't happen someday, but this young?)

The best I could do this morning was tell him that no one should be mean to anyone and if it happened again he needed to immediately find his teacher or the principal and tell them. AND to not be mean back. Daniel-san and Mr. Miyagi might think it's okay to fight back, but the Savior would not.

Tell me, oh wise mothers, what would you do in this situation???

Post-Post: I forgot to add the morning family prayer Dee gave this morning:

"Dear Heavenly Father,

Please bless me to be safe at school. Please help me to be able to come home today. Please bless I can eat dinner again tonight.

Name of Jesus Christ, Amen."


I'd like to give the world a blog...

♪♫♪ ...and keep it company. ♪♫♪

Brothers and Sisters! I am here to testify of the goodness of blogging!

Can I get an "AMEN"???

I was thinking yesterday about a friend of mine, Myya, trying to figure out how the heck I knew her. Just when and where had we met? How long had I known her? Then it dawned on me. I know her strictly from blogging. But now we are friends on Facebook. We talk about each other's kids. She wishes my brother a happy birthday. She wonders how I am doing if I don't update my blog and I wonder how she is when I am slacking off on checking my blogs.

Isn't blogging amazing in that it brings total strangers together?!

Can I get a "HALLELUJAH"???

A few months ago I participated in a blog swap, thanks to the gracious Mamarazzi, where I was partnered with Sami. That swap was months ago. But I received more than a package in the mail; I made a friend! A life-long friend from a perfect stranger.

Last week, when I accidentally sent my cell phone on a Farewell Bon Voyage tour in my washing machine, I sent out a hopeless cry for help. Guess who answered it? SAMI! When that beautiful old to her/new to me/saving grace replacement cell phone arrived in the mail only a few days later, I did what any mature lady blogger would do. I turned to my dear skeptical husband and in the most obnoxious and taunting tone I could conjure up I {lovingly} said, "I TOLD YOU GOOD THINGS COME FROM BLOGGING!! Neener Neener Neener!". Now he's convinced.

My friend Lisa and I have met in person like...what Lisa... once? And that was in our swim suits! But it wasn't weird to be sitting with some strange girl in a hot pool while our kids played with each other. I KNEW her and she KNEW me...because of our blogs.

Anymore I can hardly differentiate between my blog buddies and my "real life" friends. In all reality, I probably "talk" more to my virtual friends than my (non-virtual?) friends. I suppose some would say that's kind of sad, but I think it's wonderful!

To all my blog buddies out there: I heart you!

(I would say "love", but that seems so presumptuous, especially this early in the morning...You know what I mean, right?)

So there it is. Blogging is good.



Related Posts with Thumbnails