We are well into Christmas vacation and everyone is still alive. As a matter of fact it is day 7 and I still have all my hair, nails, and nerves, but barely. So far there have been multiple fights, a lot of pouting, and an extraordinary amount of tattling, a knot on the head, a busted lip, a jammed thumb and a black eye. I know all that sounds bad, but actually, for our house, it has been a tranquil holiday.
Our festivities began on Christmas Eve when we made the annual pilgrimage to my sister-in-law’s house (Mark’s sister). We had a good meal and even better conversation (only because no one resorted to name calling or hair pulling). Let’s just say that the “conversations” that Mark and his brother-in-law have are legendary, but this year, everyone was on there best behavior. Too bad, I was looking for a little excitement.
In my head I had planned out the perfect Christmas Eve. We would leave our family outing and go straight home. After a little regrouping we would go to candle light service at church. After the service, we would come home and open one gift each, which was matching Christmas pajamas for one and all (you can imagine Mark’s excitement about that one). When the gift opening was complete we would gather around the fireplace and read the story of Jesus’ birth. Finally, we would all get tucked into bed and await Santa’s arrival.
In the real world, our Christmas Eve went a little something like this. We left the nut house...I mean family outing and came straight home. Kate went to sleep in the car and Carter was barely hanging onto consciousness. We got home and before 15 minutes went by Carter had passed out and it was only 7:00pm. I tried for 45 minutes to get him awake for candle light service, but no response, at least nothing more than a grunt. Kate decided to wake up at 8:45pm (bad thing). We put Carter to bed for the night. Kate and I opened our pj’s by ourselves. It took me until 10:00pm to get Kate back to bed. Where was Mark during all of this commotion? He was in the garage putting together Kate’s kitchen. (Took him 5 hours by the way.) Carter did not get his pj’s until Christmas morning and to this day I’ve never seen Mark even wear his. Oh well, some things just were not meant to be.
Christmas morning was a blast! The kids were so happy. Carter strummed his new guitar while Kate cooked them breakfast in her new kitchen. We had wrapping paper, broken bows, tape, and that awful plastic toy packaging everywhere! By the way, since when is it a good thing to make toy packaging child proof? Mark and I both almost lost a finger trying to open some of those toys!
Christmas afternoon was enjoyable. We went to my mom’s house for my family Christmas. The kids partied hard and entertained one and all. At the end of the day, we had a wonderful Christmas and we are so very thankful for all God has blessed us with.
I hope you all had a very Merry Christmas and will have a very blessed New Year!
Wednesday, December 31, 2008
Monday, December 22, 2008
The Best Christmas Pageant Ever
Last night was our annual children’s Christmas play at church and it was a big hit. This year marks Carter’s third year in the play and Kate’s first. In my humble opinion, they stole the show. They both participated in the preschool program which is for kids 3 years old through Kindergarten. Sadly, this was Carter’s last year in the preschoolers play, but he went out with a bang. Next year he moves up to play in the “big leagues”.
Carter sang the solo this year and he did a wonderful job. He sang a beautiful little song called “Behold that Star”, in which he sang of an angel all “hoofed” in white instead of the tradition angel which is “robed” in white. Who knew? Kate was a different story all together. She seemed fascinated with a piece of scenery on the stage. That scenery just happened to be a bale of hay. She stood on the stage and pulled straws out of the bale one at a time. Later that night as I was singing Carter’s praises, Kate spoke up and said “Well, mummy I wuz tuying to moove duh hay so I could zit dare and zing.” Makes perfect sense to me, don’t you think?
Only 3 more days until Christmas, and the kids are about to bust at the seams! I may require some type of medication before these two weeks are over. I have scheduled our annual toy purge for tomorrow afternoon 4:00pm sharp. The process is rather simple…
1. I make a pick up announcement
(All toys must be picked up and put up)
(Any toy left on the floor will be the first to go)
2. I get a large box and/or bag
3. Let the purge begin!
(This is when the screaming, crying and whaling usually begins. Then the kids start in a little later.)
The purge is necessary, but it does traumatize the kids. There is usually a lot of begging, pleading and promise breaking before it all gets done. Sooner or later the purge will be complete and Santa’s toys will have a place in the toy box. All is well that ends well!
Carter sang the solo this year and he did a wonderful job. He sang a beautiful little song called “Behold that Star”, in which he sang of an angel all “hoofed” in white instead of the tradition angel which is “robed” in white. Who knew? Kate was a different story all together. She seemed fascinated with a piece of scenery on the stage. That scenery just happened to be a bale of hay. She stood on the stage and pulled straws out of the bale one at a time. Later that night as I was singing Carter’s praises, Kate spoke up and said “Well, mummy I wuz tuying to moove duh hay so I could zit dare and zing.” Makes perfect sense to me, don’t you think?
Only 3 more days until Christmas, and the kids are about to bust at the seams! I may require some type of medication before these two weeks are over. I have scheduled our annual toy purge for tomorrow afternoon 4:00pm sharp. The process is rather simple…
1. I make a pick up announcement
(All toys must be picked up and put up)
(Any toy left on the floor will be the first to go)
2. I get a large box and/or bag
3. Let the purge begin!
(This is when the screaming, crying and whaling usually begins. Then the kids start in a little later.)
The purge is necessary, but it does traumatize the kids. There is usually a lot of begging, pleading and promise breaking before it all gets done. Sooner or later the purge will be complete and Santa’s toys will have a place in the toy box. All is well that ends well!
Thursday, December 18, 2008
Let Them Eat Cake
I woke up this morning feeling pretty good about myself. The kids were cooperative and we actually left on time. My hair had a little extra bounce and my jeans were not too tight. It was a great way to begin what is my 35th birthday. Soon however, I began to get the wind knocked out of my sails one blow at a time.
We were in the car on the way to school when Carter hit me with birthday blow #1. The conversation went a little something like this:
Carter: “Mom are we having cake?”
Me: “Cake?”
Carter: “ Birthday cake!”
Me: “ Well, Daddy has not mentioned it to me, so I would say no.”
Carter: “Mommy, I think that we need to have cake.”
Me: “Well, Carter we probably won’t be having cake.”
(By this time I am beginning to feel sorry for myself.)
Carter: “But mommy, EVERYONE should have a cake for there birthday.”
(Now I am really having a pity party!)
I dropped Carter off at school and I called Mark to tell him what Carter said. I will confess I might have possibly been seeking a little sympathy. I should have known I called the wrong person for that. Mark’s response was for me to go out and find myself a nice cake for my birthday and he would pick up the tab! So what did I do you might ask? Did I tell him to take his cake and shove it? No, I went and bought myself a birthday cake. (I know it’s a sad story.) That’s blow #2.
I must say that the 3rd blow came from a very unlikely source. I had to stop by my mother-in-law’s house to pick up something and she wished me a happy birthday. I thanked her and started to my car when Carter announced to her that I was 15 today and I responded with a laugh and told him he needed to add 20 years to that number. Suddenly, Mark’s mother looked at me like someone had just asked her the square root of 127 and she said “Well, Stefnee I didn’t know you were that old”. Ouch!
Today has been a good day so far even considering the earlier incidences. It is still hard to believe that I am 35 years old. It seems like only yesterday that I was 25. I am beginning to really believe the quote that says “Inside every older person is a younger person wondering what in the world happened.”
In honor of my birthday, I want to take a trip down memory lane.
I know I am a child of the 80’s because….
I know who shot J.R.
I know the meaning of wax on/wax off
I wore bright red Reebok hightops
I watched Star Search
I had an entire wardrobe of Esprit clothes
I know all the words to the Oscar Mayer theme song
My bangs were teased 8 inches above the rest of my hair (aka mall hair)
I used Aqua Net hairspray
I know all the words to School House Rock
I had multiple colors of leg warmers
I had the Dorothy Hammill haircut
I watched Magnum P.I.
I owed a Members Only jacket
I could wear five pair of socks at one time
I remember Michael Jackson when he was still black
I had a Swatch Watch and it had a guard on it
My room was covered in posters of Kirk Cameron
I remember exactly where I was when the space shuttle exploded
My Trapper Keeper kept me organized
I watched Mary Lou Retton win the gold metal
Happy Birthday to me!
We were in the car on the way to school when Carter hit me with birthday blow #1. The conversation went a little something like this:
Carter: “Mom are we having cake?”
Me: “Cake?”
Carter: “ Birthday cake!”
Me: “ Well, Daddy has not mentioned it to me, so I would say no.”
Carter: “Mommy, I think that we need to have cake.”
Me: “Well, Carter we probably won’t be having cake.”
(By this time I am beginning to feel sorry for myself.)
Carter: “But mommy, EVERYONE should have a cake for there birthday.”
(Now I am really having a pity party!)
I dropped Carter off at school and I called Mark to tell him what Carter said. I will confess I might have possibly been seeking a little sympathy. I should have known I called the wrong person for that. Mark’s response was for me to go out and find myself a nice cake for my birthday and he would pick up the tab! So what did I do you might ask? Did I tell him to take his cake and shove it? No, I went and bought myself a birthday cake. (I know it’s a sad story.) That’s blow #2.
I must say that the 3rd blow came from a very unlikely source. I had to stop by my mother-in-law’s house to pick up something and she wished me a happy birthday. I thanked her and started to my car when Carter announced to her that I was 15 today and I responded with a laugh and told him he needed to add 20 years to that number. Suddenly, Mark’s mother looked at me like someone had just asked her the square root of 127 and she said “Well, Stefnee I didn’t know you were that old”. Ouch!
Today has been a good day so far even considering the earlier incidences. It is still hard to believe that I am 35 years old. It seems like only yesterday that I was 25. I am beginning to really believe the quote that says “Inside every older person is a younger person wondering what in the world happened.”
In honor of my birthday, I want to take a trip down memory lane.
I know I am a child of the 80’s because….
I know who shot J.R.
I know the meaning of wax on/wax off
I wore bright red Reebok hightops
I watched Star Search
I had an entire wardrobe of Esprit clothes
I know all the words to the Oscar Mayer theme song
My bangs were teased 8 inches above the rest of my hair (aka mall hair)
I used Aqua Net hairspray
I know all the words to School House Rock
I had multiple colors of leg warmers
I had the Dorothy Hammill haircut
I watched Magnum P.I.
I owed a Members Only jacket
I could wear five pair of socks at one time
I remember Michael Jackson when he was still black
I had a Swatch Watch and it had a guard on it
My room was covered in posters of Kirk Cameron
I remember exactly where I was when the space shuttle exploded
My Trapper Keeper kept me organized
I watched Mary Lou Retton win the gold metal
Happy Birthday to me!
Monday, December 15, 2008
Singin' For My Supper
In my own humble opinion, I can be quite entertaining when I put forth a little effort. Whenever I read a book to the kids or sing a song I try to spice it up a little bit and just add a little FLARE. This morning I had to add some FLARE that I had not anticipated.
As usual I went to wake Kate up this morning with dread in my heart. I know that I have mentioned before that Kate is NOT a morning person. I went into the bedroom flipped the light on and began my rendition of “Rise and shine and give God the glory, glory children of the Lord”. There was no movement. Next I tried a spicy version of “Feliz Navidad” Again, not a creature was stirring, not even Kate!
Alas, I knew that I was going to have to pull out the big guns or we were going to be late. So with my flannel pajamas still on and my hair still in full curling iron curls I came up with my best song yet. It went a little something like this:
Katie bell, Katie bell, Katie bell rock
Katie bells swing and Katie bells ring
Snowing and blowing up bushels of fun
Now the Katie hop has begun.
Suddenly, I saw a ripple under the blanket….
Katie bell, Katie bell, Katie bell rock
Katie bells chime in Katie bell time
Dancing and prancing in Katie bell square
In the frosty air
Kate’s fuzzy blonde head popped out from under the cover and she peered at me with only one eye open….
Katie bell time is a swell time
To go riding in a one-horse sleigh
Giddy-up Katie horse, pick up your feet
Katie around the clock
Mix and a-mingle in the jingling beat
That’s the Katie bell,
That’s the Katie bell,
That’s the Katie bell rock!
Suddenly, she began to clap for me and she actually smiled. Yes, it was only 7:15 in the morning and Kate smiled! I had begun to think highly of my ability to entertain while serving a purpose when I heard Kate say “Mummy you sooo funny!” I graciously thanked her and began to get her out of bed. She stopped me abruptly and said “Wait, wait you sing it again mummy, but wait, wait you need to sing it and shake you booty too mummy!”
All in a days work my dear readers, all in a days work!
As usual I went to wake Kate up this morning with dread in my heart. I know that I have mentioned before that Kate is NOT a morning person. I went into the bedroom flipped the light on and began my rendition of “Rise and shine and give God the glory, glory children of the Lord”. There was no movement. Next I tried a spicy version of “Feliz Navidad” Again, not a creature was stirring, not even Kate!
Alas, I knew that I was going to have to pull out the big guns or we were going to be late. So with my flannel pajamas still on and my hair still in full curling iron curls I came up with my best song yet. It went a little something like this:
Katie bell, Katie bell, Katie bell rock
Katie bells swing and Katie bells ring
Snowing and blowing up bushels of fun
Now the Katie hop has begun.
Suddenly, I saw a ripple under the blanket….
Katie bell, Katie bell, Katie bell rock
Katie bells chime in Katie bell time
Dancing and prancing in Katie bell square
In the frosty air
Kate’s fuzzy blonde head popped out from under the cover and she peered at me with only one eye open….
Katie bell time is a swell time
To go riding in a one-horse sleigh
Giddy-up Katie horse, pick up your feet
Katie around the clock
Mix and a-mingle in the jingling beat
That’s the Katie bell,
That’s the Katie bell,
That’s the Katie bell rock!
Suddenly, she began to clap for me and she actually smiled. Yes, it was only 7:15 in the morning and Kate smiled! I had begun to think highly of my ability to entertain while serving a purpose when I heard Kate say “Mummy you sooo funny!” I graciously thanked her and began to get her out of bed. She stopped me abruptly and said “Wait, wait you sing it again mummy, but wait, wait you need to sing it and shake you booty too mummy!”
All in a days work my dear readers, all in a days work!
Wednesday, December 3, 2008
40 Is The New 30...I Think?
It is a landmark day for casa de crazy. Today is my husband’s 40th birthday. Oh yes, I said 40th birthday. Honestly, I’m not sure that he is taking it that well. Personally, I do not see what the big deal is really. I thought that 40 was the new 30. Of course that is easy for me to say, I am not turning 40 today. I have SEVERAL years until I hit the big 4-0 bump in the road or should I say “mid-life“ crisis. Did you hear that Mark…I have SEVERAL years to go! As far as I can tell, Mark turning 40 has turned me into some what of a “trophy wife”.
In honor of my dear husband’s big day, let’s take a trip down memory lane to 1968.….
In 1968:
Richard Nixon was elected president
Yearly inflation: 4.27%
Average Income per year: $7,850
Average price of a car: $2,450
Gas: $.34 per gallon
Movie ticket: $1.50
Gallon of milk: $1.21
Loaf of bread: $.22
Postage stamp: $.06
Average price of a home: $14,950
Popular T.V. shows: Laugh In and Bonanza
Record of the year: “Mrs. Robinson” by Simon and Garfunkel
Martin Luther King Jr. was assassinated
President Johnson signed the Civil Rights Act of 1968
Robert Kennedy was assassinated
Aristotle Onassis and Jacqueline Kennedy got married
Boeing 747 made it maiden flight
NASA launched Apollo 7
Philadelphia Bank installs the first automated teller machine
The first Big Mac goes on sell for $.49
I love you Mark! Happy Birthday!
In honor of my dear husband’s big day, let’s take a trip down memory lane to 1968.….
In 1968:
Richard Nixon was elected president
Yearly inflation: 4.27%
Average Income per year: $7,850
Average price of a car: $2,450
Gas: $.34 per gallon
Movie ticket: $1.50
Gallon of milk: $1.21
Loaf of bread: $.22
Postage stamp: $.06
Average price of a home: $14,950
Popular T.V. shows: Laugh In and Bonanza
Record of the year: “Mrs. Robinson” by Simon and Garfunkel
Martin Luther King Jr. was assassinated
President Johnson signed the Civil Rights Act of 1968
Robert Kennedy was assassinated
Aristotle Onassis and Jacqueline Kennedy got married
Boeing 747 made it maiden flight
NASA launched Apollo 7
Philadelphia Bank installs the first automated teller machine
The first Big Mac goes on sell for $.49
I love you Mark! Happy Birthday!
Thursday, November 20, 2008
Scientific Method?
Do you remember having a science fair at school? You had to come up with a question, research it, form a hypothesis, test it, look at the results, and draw a conclusion. Oh, those were the days and it seems like so long ago, but wait, it was just this morning for Mark.
This morning, Mark finally completed a science project that he has been working for at least as long as we have been married (7 years, 11 months, and 2 weeks to be exact). I like to call Mark’s little experiment “No excuses for oversleeping”. For as long as we have been married, Mark has NEVER overslept. I am not exaggerating when I use the word NEVER.
I on the other hand am not so “perfect”. I do not subscribe to the modern day alarm system. I was one of those people who use to live 3 minutes from the office, but I was always 30 minutes late. Why? I over slept. This phenomenon is something that Mark just doesn’t understand. No wonder he does not understand, he gets up at 4:00am. I am more along the lines of a 7:30am gal (this was of course BEFORE I had children). Needless to say “oversleeping” is the topic that remains a thorn in our side, at least until today.
I was dreaming about the stress of cooking a turkey when I heard Mark’s voice, “6:30”, “no”, “is it?”, “Stef, is it 6:30?” (How should I know? I don’t even have a clock on my side of the bed. I work on God’s time…I let the sunrise wake me up.) Mark carried his search for the “real” time into the kitchen to check the clock there. Then I here, “NOOOO! It IS 6:30!” Then I heard the words I have waited to hear for years…wait for it… “I’ve OVERSLEPT!”
You are probably wondering what the big deal was, right? After all it was only 6:30am and he had plenty of time to get to work. Well, not exactly. Mark had a prayer breakfast to attend this morning at 6:45am with our Pastor and several other businessmen from church. As you probably figured out by now, Mark missed his prayer breakfast and his morning coffee.
All of this reminds me of the saying “don‘t throw stones if you live in a glass house.”
Mark, welcome to the glass house.
This morning, Mark finally completed a science project that he has been working for at least as long as we have been married (7 years, 11 months, and 2 weeks to be exact). I like to call Mark’s little experiment “No excuses for oversleeping”. For as long as we have been married, Mark has NEVER overslept. I am not exaggerating when I use the word NEVER.
I on the other hand am not so “perfect”. I do not subscribe to the modern day alarm system. I was one of those people who use to live 3 minutes from the office, but I was always 30 minutes late. Why? I over slept. This phenomenon is something that Mark just doesn’t understand. No wonder he does not understand, he gets up at 4:00am. I am more along the lines of a 7:30am gal (this was of course BEFORE I had children). Needless to say “oversleeping” is the topic that remains a thorn in our side, at least until today.
I was dreaming about the stress of cooking a turkey when I heard Mark’s voice, “6:30”, “no”, “is it?”, “Stef, is it 6:30?” (How should I know? I don’t even have a clock on my side of the bed. I work on God’s time…I let the sunrise wake me up.) Mark carried his search for the “real” time into the kitchen to check the clock there. Then I here, “NOOOO! It IS 6:30!” Then I heard the words I have waited to hear for years…wait for it… “I’ve OVERSLEPT!”
You are probably wondering what the big deal was, right? After all it was only 6:30am and he had plenty of time to get to work. Well, not exactly. Mark had a prayer breakfast to attend this morning at 6:45am with our Pastor and several other businessmen from church. As you probably figured out by now, Mark missed his prayer breakfast and his morning coffee.
All of this reminds me of the saying “don‘t throw stones if you live in a glass house.”
Mark, welcome to the glass house.
Friday, November 14, 2008
Tis The Season
Tis the season to be jolly, fa la la la la la la la la. Yippee! I walked into Wal-Mart a few days ago and behold it has begun. The sound of dogs barking “Jingle Bells” was blasting through the store speakers, a giant tree stood front and center at the store entrance and the smell of cinnamon filled the air. I looked to my left and there were toys lining the wall. I looked to my right and there were bows, bags, and balls, oh my! It’s Christmas time again!
In case I have not made myself clear, I LOVE CHRISTMAS! I always have and always will. I believe that the Christmas spirit is contagious. You can just feel it in the air. Usually, I start making my Christmas list in September all in anticipation of the season. Not a list of what I want, but a list of gifts and things I can do for others. I love the challenge of trying to find just the right gift for someone. I think people know when you have put thought into a gift for them. A lot of people complain that retailers start the holiday too soon. NO WAY! The longer we can celebrate the better!
Speaking of shopping, I even love the mobs of people everywhere. Personally, that’s were I get my “fix”. LOL! It is a family “tradition” of sorts to go shopping on Christmas Eve, whether we have anything to buy or not. Every year my mom and I head out on Christmas Eve, just to get “in the mess”. Yes it is a mad house, yes people are rude and pushy, but I just smile at them and say “Merry Christmas to ya!”.
Bottom line is this; Christmas is not about presents, bows and angry shoppers. Christmas is about celebrating the gift of Christ’s birth. When you are out shopping or at your family dinners, ask yourself “what would Jesus want me to do and say”. I try to remember he wants me to be loving, joyful, peaceful, patient, kind, good, faithful, and gentle and have some self-control. Please remember to smile a little more, help those in need, pray for one another and truly celebrate the greatest gift we have EVER been given.
Yes, I have started my shopping and yes, I am thinking about putting out my decorations two weeks before Thanksgiving. All because I believe that the “Christmas Spirit” that fills the air is placed there by God for all of us to catch.
Try to enjoy the madness, and remember why you are celebrating.
Maybe I’ll see you at the mall on Christmas Eve!
In case I have not made myself clear, I LOVE CHRISTMAS! I always have and always will. I believe that the Christmas spirit is contagious. You can just feel it in the air. Usually, I start making my Christmas list in September all in anticipation of the season. Not a list of what I want, but a list of gifts and things I can do for others. I love the challenge of trying to find just the right gift for someone. I think people know when you have put thought into a gift for them. A lot of people complain that retailers start the holiday too soon. NO WAY! The longer we can celebrate the better!
Speaking of shopping, I even love the mobs of people everywhere. Personally, that’s were I get my “fix”. LOL! It is a family “tradition” of sorts to go shopping on Christmas Eve, whether we have anything to buy or not. Every year my mom and I head out on Christmas Eve, just to get “in the mess”. Yes it is a mad house, yes people are rude and pushy, but I just smile at them and say “Merry Christmas to ya!”.
Bottom line is this; Christmas is not about presents, bows and angry shoppers. Christmas is about celebrating the gift of Christ’s birth. When you are out shopping or at your family dinners, ask yourself “what would Jesus want me to do and say”. I try to remember he wants me to be loving, joyful, peaceful, patient, kind, good, faithful, and gentle and have some self-control. Please remember to smile a little more, help those in need, pray for one another and truly celebrate the greatest gift we have EVER been given.
Yes, I have started my shopping and yes, I am thinking about putting out my decorations two weeks before Thanksgiving. All because I believe that the “Christmas Spirit” that fills the air is placed there by God for all of us to catch.
Try to enjoy the madness, and remember why you are celebrating.
Maybe I’ll see you at the mall on Christmas Eve!
Tuesday, November 4, 2008
My Job Description
There was a time in my life when I had a “real” job as some might call it, but I confess to people all the time that I work a lot harder now than I ever did at that “real” job. I love it when I have to fill out paper work for school or the pediatrician and they have a space for my “occupation”. When I look at the forms I realize that the entire thing could not hold my job description. I am a Chef, Personal Shopper, Maid, Psychologist, Nurse, Pharmacist, Communications Director, Stylist, Financial Analyst, and Event Planner to name a few. The one thing that I have never really thought myself as was a Travel Agent, well this weekend Mark proved me wrong.
Mark began his journey to Australia last Friday and I emphasize the term “journey”. He flew to San Francisco Saturday morning and like a good little wife I tracked his flight over the internet like a seasoned Air Traffic Controller (I should add that to the list). When I knew his plane had landed safely, I anxiously anticipated his phone call. It was about 15 minutes after his landing that my phone rang and I answered it with joy and eagerness. What I heard on the other line was not so joyful. It went a little something like this:
Me: Hello!
Mark: Hey, listen, I need your help.
Me: What’s wrong?
Mark: The airline people told me that I have to go get my luggage at baggage claim now, and check it back in at the terminal. They will not just send it through the normal transfer system.
Me: O.K…….Then go get your bag…
Mark: I’ll have to call you back…I’m going to ask one of these people over here.
(Click) He hung up
Me: Nice talking to you too!
15 Minutes later (the phone rings again)
Me: Hello….
Mark: Listen, I need your help.
Me: With what?
Mark: They have told me that I have to go get my luggage now, and I can not check it in until 8 hours before my flight tonight.
(Did I mention he had a 13 hour layover in San Francisco?)
Me: O.K. Well, just take your suitcase to the main terminal and get you something to eat.
Mark: This is crazy! I can’t believe this is happening to me! I’ll talk to you later. Love you…
Click (He hung up, again)
10 Minutes later (the phone rings again)
Me: Helloooo!
Mark: Hey, I have a problem; I can’t find anywhere to eat in this place.
Me: You’re joking me right? It’s the San Francisco International Airport, there has got to be somewhere to eat.
Mark: Can you find me somewhere?
Me: Huh?
Now, I traveled a lot of places back when I had a “real” job, but San Francisco was not one of them. I am good, but not that good. So you would think that I would have just rolled my eyes at Mark’s request and marked his craziness up to just being tired, but NOOOO. What did I do? I get out my trusty computer, found a map of the airport, and found him a place to eat. Did he take my directions and find the Subway Shop? NO, he did not. He sat in the main terminal with his luggage and ate his peanut butter crackers (that I packed in his suitcase) until time to check his bag.
Am I angry that he did not take my instructions…no, not really. Because even though he did not take my advice and find the Subway, I can now at least add Travel Agent extraordinaire to my occupation list.
And for those of you who are wondering…Mark arrived in the land down under safely and a little hungry. (I Love You, Mark!)
Mark began his journey to Australia last Friday and I emphasize the term “journey”. He flew to San Francisco Saturday morning and like a good little wife I tracked his flight over the internet like a seasoned Air Traffic Controller (I should add that to the list). When I knew his plane had landed safely, I anxiously anticipated his phone call. It was about 15 minutes after his landing that my phone rang and I answered it with joy and eagerness. What I heard on the other line was not so joyful. It went a little something like this:
Me: Hello!
Mark: Hey, listen, I need your help.
Me: What’s wrong?
Mark: The airline people told me that I have to go get my luggage at baggage claim now, and check it back in at the terminal. They will not just send it through the normal transfer system.
Me: O.K…….Then go get your bag…
Mark: I’ll have to call you back…I’m going to ask one of these people over here.
(Click) He hung up
Me: Nice talking to you too!
15 Minutes later (the phone rings again)
Me: Hello….
Mark: Listen, I need your help.
Me: With what?
Mark: They have told me that I have to go get my luggage now, and I can not check it in until 8 hours before my flight tonight.
(Did I mention he had a 13 hour layover in San Francisco?)
Me: O.K. Well, just take your suitcase to the main terminal and get you something to eat.
Mark: This is crazy! I can’t believe this is happening to me! I’ll talk to you later. Love you…
Click (He hung up, again)
10 Minutes later (the phone rings again)
Me: Helloooo!
Mark: Hey, I have a problem; I can’t find anywhere to eat in this place.
Me: You’re joking me right? It’s the San Francisco International Airport, there has got to be somewhere to eat.
Mark: Can you find me somewhere?
Me: Huh?
Now, I traveled a lot of places back when I had a “real” job, but San Francisco was not one of them. I am good, but not that good. So you would think that I would have just rolled my eyes at Mark’s request and marked his craziness up to just being tired, but NOOOO. What did I do? I get out my trusty computer, found a map of the airport, and found him a place to eat. Did he take my directions and find the Subway Shop? NO, he did not. He sat in the main terminal with his luggage and ate his peanut butter crackers (that I packed in his suitcase) until time to check his bag.
Am I angry that he did not take my instructions…no, not really. Because even though he did not take my advice and find the Subway, I can now at least add Travel Agent extraordinaire to my occupation list.
And for those of you who are wondering…Mark arrived in the land down under safely and a little hungry. (I Love You, Mark!)
Sunday, October 26, 2008
The Doctor Is In
When I went to bed Tuesday night I had the rest of my week all laid out. Little did I know that Wednesday morning would bring total chaos to my perfectly planned week? I woke up Wednesday morning to the sound of Carter crying and saying his throat hurt. My world was officially being “rocked” because Carter NEVER gets sick.
Carter has Mark’s genes in the “getting sick” category and the only thing Carter “catches” is a runny nose on occasion. His good genes are both a blessing and a curse. A blessing because he is rarely sick and a curse because when he is sick he thinks his world is coming to an end.
I called the doctors office first thing and was able to get an early appointment. Now I will be honest, I HATE taking my kids to the doctor. It’s not about the doctor as much as it is the germs! I do not consider myself a “germaphobe”, but I do like me some hand sanitizer and Clorox Wipes. I know this will sound bad, but when I walk in the door of the pediatricians’ office my suppressed obsessive compulsive disorder kicks in HIGH gear.
After an hour and a half of “don’t touch that Kate” and “that’s nasty Kate”, we left with a diagnosis of strep throat, a 3 day “leave” from school and an empty bottle of Purell.
Did I mention the 3 days at home? Technically, it is 5 days because of the weekend. Did I also mention how much Carter LOVES school and does not like to miss it? Praise God that Carter started feeling better on Thursday afternoon, but by Friday I was about to pull my hair out. The term “cabin fever” doesn’t even come close to an accurate description.
Luckily, tomorrow is Monday and Carter can return to his “happy place” also known as school and I can return to my “happy place” also known as Wal-Mart.
Carter has Mark’s genes in the “getting sick” category and the only thing Carter “catches” is a runny nose on occasion. His good genes are both a blessing and a curse. A blessing because he is rarely sick and a curse because when he is sick he thinks his world is coming to an end.
I called the doctors office first thing and was able to get an early appointment. Now I will be honest, I HATE taking my kids to the doctor. It’s not about the doctor as much as it is the germs! I do not consider myself a “germaphobe”, but I do like me some hand sanitizer and Clorox Wipes. I know this will sound bad, but when I walk in the door of the pediatricians’ office my suppressed obsessive compulsive disorder kicks in HIGH gear.
After an hour and a half of “don’t touch that Kate” and “that’s nasty Kate”, we left with a diagnosis of strep throat, a 3 day “leave” from school and an empty bottle of Purell.
Did I mention the 3 days at home? Technically, it is 5 days because of the weekend. Did I also mention how much Carter LOVES school and does not like to miss it? Praise God that Carter started feeling better on Thursday afternoon, but by Friday I was about to pull my hair out. The term “cabin fever” doesn’t even come close to an accurate description.
Luckily, tomorrow is Monday and Carter can return to his “happy place” also known as school and I can return to my “happy place” also known as Wal-Mart.
Thursday, October 16, 2008
Beauty Sleep?
I am nursing a major pain in the neck today and I am not even referring to my children, at least not directly. I have no one else to blame, but myself. I broke one of the major rules of Casa de Crazy. I broke the rule that says you must guard your sleeping territory at all costs. I know that sounds strange, but let me explain.
When bedtime comes, we adhere to the “all for one, one for all” motto. Yes, we ALL sleep in the same bed! I know what some of you may be thinking, but desperate times call for desperate measures. When both Carter and Kate were babies, the ONLY way Mark and I could get any sleep was to let them sleep in the bed with us. Yes, that was over five years ago, but “old habits die hard”.
Over the years our sleeping “rules” have evolved so that everyone can get good nights sleep, except for maybe Mark.
Rule #1 When you get in the bed, stay in your spot (Do not ask to trade places)
Rule #2 Guard your territory at all costs (Go to the bathroom at your own risk)
Rule #3 Always keep your guard up (Literally, elbows can hit you in the face at any time)
Rule #4 Keep up with your blanket (If it makes it to the bottom of the bed, sorry)
Rule #5 The oldest person in the bed gets the least amount of assigned space (Sorry Mark)
I know that it is probably time to ship the kids off into there own bed, but somehow I don’t think that is going to be as easy as it sounds. I wouldn’t know what to do if I did not wake up in the middle of the night without Kate rubbing my ear lobes or Carter digging his toes into my back.
The time is going to come when Carter and Kate are both going to want to sleep in their own beds, but until then I think I’ll just stick to the rules and snuggle with my babies a little longer.
When bedtime comes, we adhere to the “all for one, one for all” motto. Yes, we ALL sleep in the same bed! I know what some of you may be thinking, but desperate times call for desperate measures. When both Carter and Kate were babies, the ONLY way Mark and I could get any sleep was to let them sleep in the bed with us. Yes, that was over five years ago, but “old habits die hard”.
Over the years our sleeping “rules” have evolved so that everyone can get good nights sleep, except for maybe Mark.
Rule #1 When you get in the bed, stay in your spot (Do not ask to trade places)
Rule #2 Guard your territory at all costs (Go to the bathroom at your own risk)
Rule #3 Always keep your guard up (Literally, elbows can hit you in the face at any time)
Rule #4 Keep up with your blanket (If it makes it to the bottom of the bed, sorry)
Rule #5 The oldest person in the bed gets the least amount of assigned space (Sorry Mark)
I know that it is probably time to ship the kids off into there own bed, but somehow I don’t think that is going to be as easy as it sounds. I wouldn’t know what to do if I did not wake up in the middle of the night without Kate rubbing my ear lobes or Carter digging his toes into my back.
The time is going to come when Carter and Kate are both going to want to sleep in their own beds, but until then I think I’ll just stick to the rules and snuggle with my babies a little longer.
Tuesday, October 7, 2008
Is That A Kangaroo?
It has been an eventful last few days at Casa de Crazy. Mark found out last week that he has to go to Australia on business. I realize that most of you are saying “Cool!”, but that was not exactly Mark’s reaction to this little adventure.
Mark is not much of a travelin’ man. Especially when it involves an airplane. I’ll never forget our honeymoon. We flew to Disney World and it was only Mark’s second time on an airplane. We boarded the plane, got settled in as much as Mark could “settle”. Then we here the captain come over the intercom, he said “Good afternoon from the flight deck, we apologize for the delay. We are currently waiting for a minor repair to be completed on the aircraft. We should be cleared for takeoff shortly after. Thanks you for your patience.” I looked over at Mark and all the color had drained out of his face. I thought he was going to pass out or crawl out the side door.
The plane finally began to taxi down the runway and the conversation for the next 55 minutes went something like this…
Mark, “What was that noise?”
Me, “Wheels going up.”
10 minutes later…
Mark, “What’s that noise?”
Me, “Wing flaps shifting.”
15 minutes later…
Mark, “What’s that noise?”
Me, “It’s the beverage cart for Pete’s sake!”
15 minutes later…
Mark, “What’s THAT noise?”
Me, “Wheels going down, Mark.”
Mark, “Going down? Why? Why are they going down? Is something wrong?”
Me, “If you want to get back on solid ground, the wheels need to go down.”
Mark, “What? What do you mean?”
Me, “We are landing you big wimp!”
I feel so sorry for the poor soul sitting next to him on this trip. I am thinking that some medication may be required.
Mark is not much of a travelin’ man. Especially when it involves an airplane. I’ll never forget our honeymoon. We flew to Disney World and it was only Mark’s second time on an airplane. We boarded the plane, got settled in as much as Mark could “settle”. Then we here the captain come over the intercom, he said “Good afternoon from the flight deck, we apologize for the delay. We are currently waiting for a minor repair to be completed on the aircraft. We should be cleared for takeoff shortly after. Thanks you for your patience.” I looked over at Mark and all the color had drained out of his face. I thought he was going to pass out or crawl out the side door.
The plane finally began to taxi down the runway and the conversation for the next 55 minutes went something like this…
Mark, “What was that noise?”
Me, “Wheels going up.”
10 minutes later…
Mark, “What’s that noise?”
Me, “Wing flaps shifting.”
15 minutes later…
Mark, “What’s that noise?”
Me, “It’s the beverage cart for Pete’s sake!”
15 minutes later…
Mark, “What’s THAT noise?”
Me, “Wheels going down, Mark.”
Mark, “Going down? Why? Why are they going down? Is something wrong?”
Me, “If you want to get back on solid ground, the wheels need to go down.”
Mark, “What? What do you mean?”
Me, “We are landing you big wimp!”
I feel so sorry for the poor soul sitting next to him on this trip. I am thinking that some medication may be required.
Wednesday, October 1, 2008
It's A Southern Thing
I was driving Carter to school this morning and we were listening to the radio when the D.J. came on the air with the “question of the day”. Today’s question was “What is your biggest pet peeve?” Immediately I thought of five, but what really got me was the first lady that called in with her peeve. She said that see was born and raised in the south, but she could not stand it when a stranger or even an acquaintance called her “honey” or “sweetheart”.
Seriously? I couldn’t believe it. The D.J. asked her again if she was sure she was from the south and the caller said yes, but she thought those “terms of endearment” were demeaning. Seriously? Not calling someone “honey” or “sweetheart” in the south is like not saying “bless her heart” before you start to say something not so nice about someone.
I am very well aware that I use too many “southern” expressions and I am really trying to cut back for the sake of my children’s future education…I’ll explain. A few weeks ago I had a conversation with Carter’s teacher and she began to tell me about Carter’s last trip to the library. Carter had picked out a book that did not have a bar code on it. He took the book over to the librarian and said “Excuse me ma’am, I really want to check this book out, but it does not have a "thingy ma jigger" on it.” Apparently, Carter’s choice of descriptive terms caused the librarian to almost shoot coffee out her nose.
Honey I have got to cut back!
Seriously? I couldn’t believe it. The D.J. asked her again if she was sure she was from the south and the caller said yes, but she thought those “terms of endearment” were demeaning. Seriously? Not calling someone “honey” or “sweetheart” in the south is like not saying “bless her heart” before you start to say something not so nice about someone.
I am very well aware that I use too many “southern” expressions and I am really trying to cut back for the sake of my children’s future education…I’ll explain. A few weeks ago I had a conversation with Carter’s teacher and she began to tell me about Carter’s last trip to the library. Carter had picked out a book that did not have a bar code on it. He took the book over to the librarian and said “Excuse me ma’am, I really want to check this book out, but it does not have a "thingy ma jigger" on it.” Apparently, Carter’s choice of descriptive terms caused the librarian to almost shoot coffee out her nose.
Honey I have got to cut back!
Monday, September 22, 2008
Is It Time To Eat?
Well, I have started a new diet today and to be honest…I’m starving to death. I am beginning to believe the lack of food is affecting my brain because I am having visions of dancing bread. I’d give my next pay check (if I actually got one) for a cracker. I keep telling myself that I need to get my mind on something else. I even went as far as calling my mom and telling her about my carbohydrate fantasies hoping she would step in like an AA sponsor and lead me down the right path. Needless to say, mom came through. Hang on…I’ll explain.
I am very well aware of “Thou shall not covet”, but we all know we are guilty of it on occasion. Having said that, let me take you back a few years around six to be exact. I worked with a girl that was the picture of perfect. For story purposes lets’ call her “Courtney“. She was beautiful, thin, had a great career, and super wealthy. The career and wealth did not nearly impress me as much as the thin and beautiful part. She was the kind of person that seems to “look down” on those that were less than physically perfect. I can even remember my excitement when I found out she was pregnant. I felt surely she would get a stretch mark or something!
The most memorable conversation I ever had with “Courtney” was when she was about 8 ½ months pregnant. We were sitting in a conference room with another female coworker when “Courtney” began to talk about feeling miserable. My ears perked up because I thought she would start to complain of swelling, heartburn or something, but no. She began to complain about how her thong underwear was getting to tight and if she did not have that baby soon she was going to have to resort to buying a bigger size. Now, I am not even going there about the thong thing. That is a whole other blog all together. What got me was that she was about to drop a baby and was still wearing the same size underwear!
How does this help my problem you might ask? Well, my mom called me earlier today to tell me that she saw a recent picture of “Courtney” and guess what she looks like she has gained about sixty pounds! Lord forgive me for my excitement. I know it is wrong of me to feel better, but somehow having this information made my starvation seem manageable.
Who’s up for a salad?
I am very well aware of “Thou shall not covet”, but we all know we are guilty of it on occasion. Having said that, let me take you back a few years around six to be exact. I worked with a girl that was the picture of perfect. For story purposes lets’ call her “Courtney“. She was beautiful, thin, had a great career, and super wealthy. The career and wealth did not nearly impress me as much as the thin and beautiful part. She was the kind of person that seems to “look down” on those that were less than physically perfect. I can even remember my excitement when I found out she was pregnant. I felt surely she would get a stretch mark or something!
The most memorable conversation I ever had with “Courtney” was when she was about 8 ½ months pregnant. We were sitting in a conference room with another female coworker when “Courtney” began to talk about feeling miserable. My ears perked up because I thought she would start to complain of swelling, heartburn or something, but no. She began to complain about how her thong underwear was getting to tight and if she did not have that baby soon she was going to have to resort to buying a bigger size. Now, I am not even going there about the thong thing. That is a whole other blog all together. What got me was that she was about to drop a baby and was still wearing the same size underwear!
How does this help my problem you might ask? Well, my mom called me earlier today to tell me that she saw a recent picture of “Courtney” and guess what she looks like she has gained about sixty pounds! Lord forgive me for my excitement. I know it is wrong of me to feel better, but somehow having this information made my starvation seem manageable.
Who’s up for a salad?
Monday, September 15, 2008
Maintenance
I am a firm believer that everyone at some point in their life needs a little maintenance. What do I mean by maintenance? Little things like coloring your hair or just wearing a little makeup. The best advice I have ever heard about maintenance was from my pastor. His advice was in regards to women wearing makeup, he said “If the barn needs to be painted, by all means paint the barn.” Excellent advice!
Some people require more maintenance than others. We call these people “high maintenance”. Don’t laugh because I too am “high” maintenance. We require a little bit more than makeup and hair color. We get manicures, pedicures; eyebrow waxing, spray tans, massages and some of us have even had our eyebrows tinted! I think those of us who are “HM” simply can not help ourselves. It is in our genes! Heaven knows it is in my blood! My mom has started Kate very early; she took Kate to have her nails and toes done for her third birthday. Kate loved it! (I love you, mom!)
I have said all of this to ask a simple question. Is there anything wrong with being “high maintenance”? Is it not better than any maintenance at all? In my opinion, people need a little more paint, wax or polish whichever it might be. What do you think? Should we remodel the barn or what?
Some people require more maintenance than others. We call these people “high maintenance”. Don’t laugh because I too am “high” maintenance. We require a little bit more than makeup and hair color. We get manicures, pedicures; eyebrow waxing, spray tans, massages and some of us have even had our eyebrows tinted! I think those of us who are “HM” simply can not help ourselves. It is in our genes! Heaven knows it is in my blood! My mom has started Kate very early; she took Kate to have her nails and toes done for her third birthday. Kate loved it! (I love you, mom!)
I have said all of this to ask a simple question. Is there anything wrong with being “high maintenance”? Is it not better than any maintenance at all? In my opinion, people need a little more paint, wax or polish whichever it might be. What do you think? Should we remodel the barn or what?
Monday, September 8, 2008
R.S.V.Peeved (Thoughts on Southern Etiquette)
The term R.S.V.P. comes from the French expression “répondez, s'il vous plaît“, meaning, “please respond”. Southern translation, call me and let me know if you are coming or not! Now that we have that covered, I have only one question. Why don’t people do it? I am not saying that I have not ever forgotten to respond, but I do 98% of the time.
This leads me to my first question. Why? Why do people not R.S.V.P.? I have given this a little bit of thought and I have come up with a theory. People “assume”. People just think that you know whether they are going to come to the event. You know I am right. How many times have you done the same thing? Let’s say for example, your best friend sends you an invitation to her husband’s 40th birthday party. Should you “assume” that she knows you will be there? NO! Would you anyway? YES!
So what does this mean? Well, if you do not respond to your best friend’s invitation, she might call you to see if you are coming. What if she were not your best friend? She might think you are not coming because you do not like her, you have something better to do or she may think you did not get the invitation and that opens up a whole other assortment of problems.
This can also cause awkward social situations. What if I am at the mall and I run into someone that did not show up to a party I had a few days before? What am I suppose to say? I know what I would really want to say. “So, where were you Saturday night?” “Did you have something better to do”? What if the situation were reversed? What would you say? “Sorry I could not make it to the party, I had myself admitted to Westcott (if you’re not from around here, it’s the local looney bin) a few days before the invitation came and I just got out yesterday.”
At first glance, the dilemma of the R.S.V.P. seems simple, just do it. However, if you happen to forget, remember always be prepared to grovel or have a good excuse tucked away somewhere safe. You NEVER know when you will need one.
This message is dedicated to the refrigerator full of hotdogs and unopened dip from Kate’s birthday party this weekend.
This leads me to my first question. Why? Why do people not R.S.V.P.? I have given this a little bit of thought and I have come up with a theory. People “assume”. People just think that you know whether they are going to come to the event. You know I am right. How many times have you done the same thing? Let’s say for example, your best friend sends you an invitation to her husband’s 40th birthday party. Should you “assume” that she knows you will be there? NO! Would you anyway? YES!
So what does this mean? Well, if you do not respond to your best friend’s invitation, she might call you to see if you are coming. What if she were not your best friend? She might think you are not coming because you do not like her, you have something better to do or she may think you did not get the invitation and that opens up a whole other assortment of problems.
This can also cause awkward social situations. What if I am at the mall and I run into someone that did not show up to a party I had a few days before? What am I suppose to say? I know what I would really want to say. “So, where were you Saturday night?” “Did you have something better to do”? What if the situation were reversed? What would you say? “Sorry I could not make it to the party, I had myself admitted to Westcott (if you’re not from around here, it’s the local looney bin) a few days before the invitation came and I just got out yesterday.”
At first glance, the dilemma of the R.S.V.P. seems simple, just do it. However, if you happen to forget, remember always be prepared to grovel or have a good excuse tucked away somewhere safe. You NEVER know when you will need one.
This message is dedicated to the refrigerator full of hotdogs and unopened dip from Kate’s birthday party this weekend.
Thursday, September 4, 2008
Hostess With The Mostess
This has been the craziest week ever! For me, the majority of the week has been spent in the car. In reality, I should have been at home…CLEANING! Kate’s birthday is this weekend and we are having a party at our house. In less than 48 hours, twenty five people, all of which are family members will descend upon my house. Anxiety is running high!
Yes, the “party at home” was my idea, but this is my normal ritual before any event that I plan. I have at least two days of “party planners’ remorse”. Anytime I have people over I have to strategically clean my house. This involves the things that normally fall under the spring cleaning category.
I think the house cleaning burden is affecting my mental stability. I’m not joking. While I was waiting on Kate’s ballet class to be over today, one of the other mothers and I were talking, but I do not have a clue what she was saying. All I could think about was, “I wonder if her base boards are clean?” I have got to get control of myself!
I can now understand why Martha Stewart could not remember the conversation with her stockbroker. I better pull myself together ’cause we all know how that one turned out.
Yes, the “party at home” was my idea, but this is my normal ritual before any event that I plan. I have at least two days of “party planners’ remorse”. Anytime I have people over I have to strategically clean my house. This involves the things that normally fall under the spring cleaning category.
I think the house cleaning burden is affecting my mental stability. I’m not joking. While I was waiting on Kate’s ballet class to be over today, one of the other mothers and I were talking, but I do not have a clue what she was saying. All I could think about was, “I wonder if her base boards are clean?” I have got to get control of myself!
I can now understand why Martha Stewart could not remember the conversation with her stockbroker. I better pull myself together ’cause we all know how that one turned out.
Monday, September 1, 2008
To Labor Or Not?
It is a hot and humid Labor Day her in Georgia. Translation, I am nestled securely in my well air-conditioned home. I do not do the outdoor thing. I do not “mesh” well with bugs, dirt, and sweat. However, Mark seems to thrive on being outside in 95 degree heat and 100% humidity. He is outside right now becoming one with the weed eater.
I can’t seem to figure out the “Labor Day” thing. Should we labor excessively today or do we boycott labor all together? I for one am all for the boycott! There is laundry that I need to do, the windows need to be washed, and the refrigerator needs to be cleaned out, but it’s Labor Day and I think I will just sit this one out.
On a more serious note:
My family and our entire church family is praying for everyone on the gulf coast as they brace for hurricane Gustav.
I can’t seem to figure out the “Labor Day” thing. Should we labor excessively today or do we boycott labor all together? I for one am all for the boycott! There is laundry that I need to do, the windows need to be washed, and the refrigerator needs to be cleaned out, but it’s Labor Day and I think I will just sit this one out.
On a more serious note:
My family and our entire church family is praying for everyone on the gulf coast as they brace for hurricane Gustav.
Friday, August 29, 2008
The Pit Stop
I was having a pretty good day yesterday and things were going my way. When I went to get Carter at school, the tide began to turn. I pulled through the pick up line and Carter got in the car. Then the teacher said, “If he says anything about something happening today, don’t worry tomorrow is a new day. All is forgotten.” Translation, Carter got in trouble today.
I immediately started to feel anxious. Carter in trouble? He is my good child, how did this happen? As we drove away, I ask Carter about his day. He said, “It was a good day.” I said, “EVERYTHING was good?” He said (in a softer tone), “Yes”. I said, “Did anything exciting happen?” There it was…silence. He said, “Well, mommy my car had to take a pit stop this morning.” Explanation, his teacher uses a race track incentive to promote good behavior. Your car races on the track, but when you get in trouble you have to go to the pits and loose a lap. (Don’t laugh, remember we are southern.)
So the conversation kept going and I asked all the important questions. So I asked, ”Carter, what did you do that sent you to the pits?” He replied, “I don’t really remember.” Don’t remember? Selective memory at such a young age… I said, “Try!” He said, “Well, I think I did something to Zachary’s head, but it’s not like he cried or anything!” Oh Dear Lord!
I immediately started to feel anxious. Carter in trouble? He is my good child, how did this happen? As we drove away, I ask Carter about his day. He said, “It was a good day.” I said, “EVERYTHING was good?” He said (in a softer tone), “Yes”. I said, “Did anything exciting happen?” There it was…silence. He said, “Well, mommy my car had to take a pit stop this morning.” Explanation, his teacher uses a race track incentive to promote good behavior. Your car races on the track, but when you get in trouble you have to go to the pits and loose a lap. (Don’t laugh, remember we are southern.)
So the conversation kept going and I asked all the important questions. So I asked, ”Carter, what did you do that sent you to the pits?” He replied, “I don’t really remember.” Don’t remember? Selective memory at such a young age… I said, “Try!” He said, “Well, I think I did something to Zachary’s head, but it’s not like he cried or anything!” Oh Dear Lord!
Tuesday, August 26, 2008
My Mother's Daughter
I come from a long line of strong and spirited women. My maternal grandmother (Agnes) was a force to be reckoned. Before I go any further, let me say that I loved my grandmother very much and to be honest I am more like her than I want to admit. Agnes taught me the joy of shopping and the art of convincing someone to buy me what I wanted, when I wanted it. She was the master.
My mother has the same genes running through her too, although she does not like to admit it. Almost everyone has seen the posters entitled All I Need To Know In Life… Well, I give you my take on it:
All I Need To Know In Life I Learned From My Mother
1. You can never have too many pairs of black pants.
2.You can never have too many pairs of black shoes.
3. If you have a color choice always choose black, it’s more slimming.
4. Stand up straight and hold your stomach in.
5. Our lives are like a box of chocolate covered peanuts, there is a nut in them all.
6. A perceptive mother is cheaper than a therapist.
7. Great minds think alike, especially when they are mother and daughter.
8. I am not as smart as I thought I was.
9. Any good designer bag can be bought from a warehouse on Canal Street in downtown Manhattan. (Not to mention a good watch)
I love you Mom!
My mother has the same genes running through her too, although she does not like to admit it. Almost everyone has seen the posters entitled All I Need To Know In Life… Well, I give you my take on it:
All I Need To Know In Life I Learned From My Mother
1. You can never have too many pairs of black pants.
2.You can never have too many pairs of black shoes.
3. If you have a color choice always choose black, it’s more slimming.
4. Stand up straight and hold your stomach in.
5. Our lives are like a box of chocolate covered peanuts, there is a nut in them all.
6. A perceptive mother is cheaper than a therapist.
7. Great minds think alike, especially when they are mother and daughter.
8. I am not as smart as I thought I was.
9. Any good designer bag can be bought from a warehouse on Canal Street in downtown Manhattan. (Not to mention a good watch)
I love you Mom!
Monday, August 25, 2008
Dancing Queen
Yippee! Only 28 more days until Dancing with the Stars premieres! They announced the new stars this morning on GMA and I am sooo excited! I must confess that I am addicted to DWTS and I’m not ashamed. I always look forward to the new lineup ,but I think this season will be my favorite since Ian Ziering danced his way back into my life.
I’ve got one name for you…Rocco! Yes, as in Dispirito! Lord have mercy! I know that I am a happily married woman, but there is just something about a man who can cook and dance! When the show does premiere, I will have to hide my Rocco enthusiasm from Mark. I don’t want to damage his ego. LOL!
I did announce to Mark last night that the DWTS count down had begun and he acted less than enthused. I believe his exact words were “not again”. He says that he does not like the show, but I know he is full of it. I see him watching when he thinks I’m not looking. (He does the same thing when I am watching General Hospital on Soap Net).
I have to run. I need to find my “fancy” monogrammed apron and my tap shoes!
I’ve got one name for you…Rocco! Yes, as in Dispirito! Lord have mercy! I know that I am a happily married woman, but there is just something about a man who can cook and dance! When the show does premiere, I will have to hide my Rocco enthusiasm from Mark. I don’t want to damage his ego. LOL!
I did announce to Mark last night that the DWTS count down had begun and he acted less than enthused. I believe his exact words were “not again”. He says that he does not like the show, but I know he is full of it. I see him watching when he thinks I’m not looking. (He does the same thing when I am watching General Hospital on Soap Net).
I have to run. I need to find my “fancy” monogrammed apron and my tap shoes!
Jail House Rock
My daughter is one of a kind, a true challenge. When it comes to Kate, nothing is easy. Just leaving the house every morning is a debate. Kate keeps us on our toes and we love her for it. This morning was no exception.
Carter got up around 6:45am and he was in a good mood as usual. He ate breakfast, brushed his teeth and got dressed without any drama. Now, I also woke Kate up at 6:45am (at least I tried). After four verses of “Rise and Shine” and “This Little Light of Mine” Kate sat up in the bed thirty five minutes later. (We have to leave home by 7:30am to be on time.) So anyway, Kate sat on the bed whining. Her hair was all over her head, her pajamas were half way off and all she could say was “I don’t want to take baby to school”! I picked her up, carried her to the bathroom and sat her on the toilet. Round 1 goes to me.
As she sat on the toilet whining about not wanting to pee, I brushed her teeth and cleaned her face. As she sat on the toilet proclaiming that she was NOT going to put her clothes on, I picked her up from the toilet and carried her to her room. I put her clothes on while she had her arms crossed in protest. Finally, Kate was ready to go too. Round 2 goes to me.
I made the normal morning announcement “everyone under 4 feet tall line up at the door, the morning train is leaving”. Suddenly, from across the kitchen I heard a little voice whine “I don’t want on the twain!” So, I sent Carter to the garage and I picked Kate up and carried her to the car. In case you have not figured this out, Kate’s feet have not touched the floor since she opened her eyes. I got Kate buckled in and again she protests “I don’t want in my car seat!” All Carter could do is look over at her and shake his head. Round 3 goes to me.
The ride to school did not improve Kate’s attitude. After we took Carter to school, I had some errands to run and she still was not satisfied. When we went to Kroger, she wanted to go to Wal-Mart first. When we finally went to Wal-Mart she wanted to go to the mall instead. She sat in the back of the car and grumbled about everything we did this morning. Round 4 still goes to me.
In the end, I must confess Kate did have the last word (in a big way). We were on the way to pick Carter up at school when Kate tells me that she does not want to be in the car with me anymore. I ask her where she would rather be and her answer was simple “jail!” Needless to say…Round 5 goes to Kate.
Carter got up around 6:45am and he was in a good mood as usual. He ate breakfast, brushed his teeth and got dressed without any drama. Now, I also woke Kate up at 6:45am (at least I tried). After four verses of “Rise and Shine” and “This Little Light of Mine” Kate sat up in the bed thirty five minutes later. (We have to leave home by 7:30am to be on time.) So anyway, Kate sat on the bed whining. Her hair was all over her head, her pajamas were half way off and all she could say was “I don’t want to take baby to school”! I picked her up, carried her to the bathroom and sat her on the toilet. Round 1 goes to me.
As she sat on the toilet whining about not wanting to pee, I brushed her teeth and cleaned her face. As she sat on the toilet proclaiming that she was NOT going to put her clothes on, I picked her up from the toilet and carried her to her room. I put her clothes on while she had her arms crossed in protest. Finally, Kate was ready to go too. Round 2 goes to me.
I made the normal morning announcement “everyone under 4 feet tall line up at the door, the morning train is leaving”. Suddenly, from across the kitchen I heard a little voice whine “I don’t want on the twain!” So, I sent Carter to the garage and I picked Kate up and carried her to the car. In case you have not figured this out, Kate’s feet have not touched the floor since she opened her eyes. I got Kate buckled in and again she protests “I don’t want in my car seat!” All Carter could do is look over at her and shake his head. Round 3 goes to me.
The ride to school did not improve Kate’s attitude. After we took Carter to school, I had some errands to run and she still was not satisfied. When we went to Kroger, she wanted to go to Wal-Mart first. When we finally went to Wal-Mart she wanted to go to the mall instead. She sat in the back of the car and grumbled about everything we did this morning. Round 4 still goes to me.
In the end, I must confess Kate did have the last word (in a big way). We were on the way to pick Carter up at school when Kate tells me that she does not want to be in the car with me anymore. I ask her where she would rather be and her answer was simple “jail!” Needless to say…Round 5 goes to Kate.
Tuesday, August 19, 2008
What's That Smell?
Sit back and relax, this one is going to take a while to tell. It is amazing to me some of the things that happen to our family. Sometimes I think that we are being set up by someone and video taped. The latest report from Precocious Plantation involves several newcomers some human and some not so human.
This all started about two months ago. My mother (a.k.a. my neighbor) mentioned that she had seen something wandering around in her front yard one night and she thought it was a skunk. We all thought that seemed strange and my dad even went as far as to laugh at her, but she stuck to her story. A few weeks later, Mark comes into the bedroom around 4:30 in the morning wakes me up and tells me that there is a skunk right outside our house. He said “do you want to see it?” Seriously? It is the booty crack of dawn and he wants me to come look at a skunk. Of course, I got up to investigate. Sure enough, there he was Pepe Le Pew himself!
Our next tango with Pepe was about three weeks later. We had some friends over for dinner and when they started to leave Mark begins staring out our dining room window. He told me he was going to step out the door and check to make sure there were no skunks outside before they left. I cracked up laughing! I told Mark he was crazy, but if he wanted to be on skunk patrol go right ahead. He opened the front door and before he could shut it behind him he was back in the house and slamming the door! “It’s out there!” he said. Seriously? I could not believe it! We were trapped! Mark came up with a plan to get our friends to their car without becoming aromatically challenged. My job was to sneak our friends out the garage while Mark stood outside the front door and guarded Pepe. Heaven help us if there were any nosey neighbors watching because we gave them a show. Our friends made it to their car without a vermin encounter. We may never here from them again, but at least they made it out smelling like a rose. LOL!
Once again, at the booty crack, a week ago this past Sunday Mark wakes me up. “There are two!” he said. Great day in the morning! We are being invaded! Why here? Why my house? Why could they not have stayed at my moms? The revelation of there being multiple skunks completely tore Mark out of frame. He became a man on a mission. His first step was a trip to Lowes. He came home with $20 less than he went with and a bottle of something called “Critter Ritter”. I know what you are thinking, try to catch your breath and like my uncle Bud says “hold your bucket“ there’s more. After the $20 was flushed away, Mark’s next step was much more violent. He wanted to poison them. Duh! Then they will curl up around my house and die! Talk about stink. Then Mark decided he was going to try a “catch and release” method. Lord have mercy! This man is redneck wanna be in the body of an accountant. He was actually going to go to the farm and garden store and by a trap! I ask him what in the world he was going to do with Pepe and his woman Lola if he trapped them. I told him if he got sprayed he would be sleeping outside for at least three weeks. Mark took my warning to heart and did not buy a trap.
In comes Super Mom! (That’s me!) I logged onto the trusty internet and found my hero! I found him at www.gawildlifecontrol.com. Matt (we are now on a first name basis) is the owner and founder of A+ Wildlife Control. He came to our rescue last Friday. Then again on Saturday, Sunday, and Monday! He set six traps, three at my house and three at moms.
Here comes the “ah ha” moment of this entire fiasco. My mom thought that it was fascinating because Matt baited the traps with watermelon. I told her that my new friend Matt said that watermelon was a favorite of Pepe and those of his kind. All the color began to drain out of my mothers face and all she could say is “oops”. Oops? What does that mean? She then lets the cat out of the bag and confessed to having fed the skunks. You see, my dad has been throwing watermelon scraps out in their backyard for months! My parents have been feeding Pepe and Lola for who knows how long!
We woke up Saturday morning with three skunks caught. Yes, three! Obviously, Pepe is a busy skunk, but wait! Sunday morning another skunk trapped. Yes, that’s four! Monday morning, another skunk. Yep! The math is right, FIVE! He trapped five skunks in total and none sprayed! That is why Matt is my new hero!
Needless to say, my mom and dad will no long be putting there melons anywhere but the trash!
A little side note:
Did I mention that my new hero Matt looks just like Chris O’Donnell? You know, McVet. Grey’s Anatomy, Robin from Batman and Robin. Yep! Looks just like him. I will confess though, he may look like McVet, but the fact that he catches skunks for a living kind of takes away from the wow of it all.
This all started about two months ago. My mother (a.k.a. my neighbor) mentioned that she had seen something wandering around in her front yard one night and she thought it was a skunk. We all thought that seemed strange and my dad even went as far as to laugh at her, but she stuck to her story. A few weeks later, Mark comes into the bedroom around 4:30 in the morning wakes me up and tells me that there is a skunk right outside our house. He said “do you want to see it?” Seriously? It is the booty crack of dawn and he wants me to come look at a skunk. Of course, I got up to investigate. Sure enough, there he was Pepe Le Pew himself!
Our next tango with Pepe was about three weeks later. We had some friends over for dinner and when they started to leave Mark begins staring out our dining room window. He told me he was going to step out the door and check to make sure there were no skunks outside before they left. I cracked up laughing! I told Mark he was crazy, but if he wanted to be on skunk patrol go right ahead. He opened the front door and before he could shut it behind him he was back in the house and slamming the door! “It’s out there!” he said. Seriously? I could not believe it! We were trapped! Mark came up with a plan to get our friends to their car without becoming aromatically challenged. My job was to sneak our friends out the garage while Mark stood outside the front door and guarded Pepe. Heaven help us if there were any nosey neighbors watching because we gave them a show. Our friends made it to their car without a vermin encounter. We may never here from them again, but at least they made it out smelling like a rose. LOL!
Once again, at the booty crack, a week ago this past Sunday Mark wakes me up. “There are two!” he said. Great day in the morning! We are being invaded! Why here? Why my house? Why could they not have stayed at my moms? The revelation of there being multiple skunks completely tore Mark out of frame. He became a man on a mission. His first step was a trip to Lowes. He came home with $20 less than he went with and a bottle of something called “Critter Ritter”. I know what you are thinking, try to catch your breath and like my uncle Bud says “hold your bucket“ there’s more. After the $20 was flushed away, Mark’s next step was much more violent. He wanted to poison them. Duh! Then they will curl up around my house and die! Talk about stink. Then Mark decided he was going to try a “catch and release” method. Lord have mercy! This man is redneck wanna be in the body of an accountant. He was actually going to go to the farm and garden store and by a trap! I ask him what in the world he was going to do with Pepe and his woman Lola if he trapped them. I told him if he got sprayed he would be sleeping outside for at least three weeks. Mark took my warning to heart and did not buy a trap.
In comes Super Mom! (That’s me!) I logged onto the trusty internet and found my hero! I found him at www.gawildlifecontrol.com. Matt (we are now on a first name basis) is the owner and founder of A+ Wildlife Control. He came to our rescue last Friday. Then again on Saturday, Sunday, and Monday! He set six traps, three at my house and three at moms.
Here comes the “ah ha” moment of this entire fiasco. My mom thought that it was fascinating because Matt baited the traps with watermelon. I told her that my new friend Matt said that watermelon was a favorite of Pepe and those of his kind. All the color began to drain out of my mothers face and all she could say is “oops”. Oops? What does that mean? She then lets the cat out of the bag and confessed to having fed the skunks. You see, my dad has been throwing watermelon scraps out in their backyard for months! My parents have been feeding Pepe and Lola for who knows how long!
We woke up Saturday morning with three skunks caught. Yes, three! Obviously, Pepe is a busy skunk, but wait! Sunday morning another skunk trapped. Yes, that’s four! Monday morning, another skunk. Yep! The math is right, FIVE! He trapped five skunks in total and none sprayed! That is why Matt is my new hero!
Needless to say, my mom and dad will no long be putting there melons anywhere but the trash!
A little side note:
Did I mention that my new hero Matt looks just like Chris O’Donnell? You know, McVet. Grey’s Anatomy, Robin from Batman and Robin. Yep! Looks just like him. I will confess though, he may look like McVet, but the fact that he catches skunks for a living kind of takes away from the wow of it all.
Friday, August 15, 2008
To Potty Or Not To Potty
I am totally exhausted! We are potty training! People without children do not have a clue how worn out you get from simply making sure that someone under four feet tall doesn’t pee or poop in there panties. We go about every 30 minutes and we are always in a dead run.
Kate has done very well especially for a kid with such a mind of her own. I think I am holding up pretty well too. The medication helps. Don’t panic, I’m talking about Advil, but something stronger is not a bad idea. I must admit I never realized how expensive potty training a little girl would be. So far in the last three days we have gone through 4 rolls of toilet tissue. Let us not forget about the new panties I have had to buy. For the first 2 days Kate thought that she had to put on a new pair of panties EVERY time she went. I have bought 3 new packs of panties and each pack contained 10 pair! For those of you that are math challenged (like me) that’s 30 pair of panties! I do not even own that many and I am a professional shopper!
Our latest adventures in the potty have Kate turning into a true redneck. She decided today that she did not want to pee in the potty anymore. We were leaving to go get Carter at school when she made this announcement. I was running late and I did not have time to argue. She said she wanted to pee in the yard! Again, I did not have time to be anal so I agreed just to get her out of the house. Did I also mention that she insisted on wearing her night gown with the dancing monkeys on it to pick Carter up at school? Well, she did and to top off her ensemble she added her pink fuzzy slippers. It was like icing on the cake.
So anyway, we were outside in the driveway and here we go. Kate takes her shoes off, drops her panties, squats down and ….nothing! We stood there for what seemed like ten minutes and nothing! While we were waiting on her kidneys to kick in, three of our neighbors drove by and were cracking up.
Deep down I know what they were really saying “How did we ever end up with these people in our neighborhood?” If it had been a scene out of a movies the title would read The Clampett’s Move To The Golf Course” .
Kate has done very well especially for a kid with such a mind of her own. I think I am holding up pretty well too. The medication helps. Don’t panic, I’m talking about Advil, but something stronger is not a bad idea. I must admit I never realized how expensive potty training a little girl would be. So far in the last three days we have gone through 4 rolls of toilet tissue. Let us not forget about the new panties I have had to buy. For the first 2 days Kate thought that she had to put on a new pair of panties EVERY time she went. I have bought 3 new packs of panties and each pack contained 10 pair! For those of you that are math challenged (like me) that’s 30 pair of panties! I do not even own that many and I am a professional shopper!
Our latest adventures in the potty have Kate turning into a true redneck. She decided today that she did not want to pee in the potty anymore. We were leaving to go get Carter at school when she made this announcement. I was running late and I did not have time to argue. She said she wanted to pee in the yard! Again, I did not have time to be anal so I agreed just to get her out of the house. Did I also mention that she insisted on wearing her night gown with the dancing monkeys on it to pick Carter up at school? Well, she did and to top off her ensemble she added her pink fuzzy slippers. It was like icing on the cake.
So anyway, we were outside in the driveway and here we go. Kate takes her shoes off, drops her panties, squats down and ….nothing! We stood there for what seemed like ten minutes and nothing! While we were waiting on her kidneys to kick in, three of our neighbors drove by and were cracking up.
Deep down I know what they were really saying “How did we ever end up with these people in our neighborhood?” If it had been a scene out of a movies the title would read The Clampett’s Move To The Golf Course” .
Thursday, August 14, 2008
Let The Games Begin
Recently, I seem to be having an irrational desire to pick fights with children other than my own. I have turned into one of those mothers who try to fight there kids battles for them. Case in point, Kate’s first night as a Cubbie.
Last night was Kate’s first night as an AWANA Cubbie. For those of you who do not know what a Cubbie is, it is a Wednesday night children’s ministry for 3 and 4 year olds. I tried to get Kate totally prepared and excited. Truthfully, she could not have cared less. Kate is a free spirit and totally flies by the seat of her pants. Totally opposite from Carter. I’ll give you an example of Kate. Remember the movie A Christmas Story with the Red Rider bb gun? Well, Kate is the little brother in that movie, the one who eats his mash potatoes while pretending to be a pig. That’s our Katie!
We got to church last night and it was total chaos. I finally got Carter where he needed to be and Kate and I were off to Cubbies! Cubbies class started off good for Kate. She sat at the table and colored her picture like she was suppose to, but when she finished 2 minutes later she was ready to play. Did I mention that I am one of the three teachers in Cubbies? Yep, I am! So, I told Kate she had to stay at the table until game time. She ignored me, but she did listen to Ms. Kellie and sat back down for about 5 seconds.
I began to get really aggravated with Kate because she would not get with the program, but what I was not taking into consideration was her age and personality. Kate will not turn 3 for another month and I really need to cut her some slack.
It was game time and into the gym we went. The game leaders ask who knew how to play duck, duck, goose. Kate threw her little hand up in the air and screamed “I do, I do”. I could have cried right then and there. My baby girl was growing up. Anyway, let the games begin. The first kid got up and started around the circle duck, duck, duck, etc. First round, no goose for Kate, second round, no goose for Kate, after round six still no goose for Kate. Now I’m ticked and holding back a hissy fit. I sat there and watched my baby girl sit on pins and needles waiting to be picked. I did not know whether to cry or go grab the little girl that had already been goose 3 times by the pig tail and drag her over to Kate.
All I can say is the Good Lord put one hand on my heart and the other over my mouth reminded me where I was and Kate finally got picked. She ran and laughed when she finally got her turn, but then she was done and walked away from the other kids.
Duck, duck, goose was no longer good enough for Kate, she was ready for a solid game of “Hide and Go Seek”!
I guess she will not be scared for life after all!
Last night was Kate’s first night as an AWANA Cubbie. For those of you who do not know what a Cubbie is, it is a Wednesday night children’s ministry for 3 and 4 year olds. I tried to get Kate totally prepared and excited. Truthfully, she could not have cared less. Kate is a free spirit and totally flies by the seat of her pants. Totally opposite from Carter. I’ll give you an example of Kate. Remember the movie A Christmas Story with the Red Rider bb gun? Well, Kate is the little brother in that movie, the one who eats his mash potatoes while pretending to be a pig. That’s our Katie!
We got to church last night and it was total chaos. I finally got Carter where he needed to be and Kate and I were off to Cubbies! Cubbies class started off good for Kate. She sat at the table and colored her picture like she was suppose to, but when she finished 2 minutes later she was ready to play. Did I mention that I am one of the three teachers in Cubbies? Yep, I am! So, I told Kate she had to stay at the table until game time. She ignored me, but she did listen to Ms. Kellie and sat back down for about 5 seconds.
I began to get really aggravated with Kate because she would not get with the program, but what I was not taking into consideration was her age and personality. Kate will not turn 3 for another month and I really need to cut her some slack.
It was game time and into the gym we went. The game leaders ask who knew how to play duck, duck, goose. Kate threw her little hand up in the air and screamed “I do, I do”. I could have cried right then and there. My baby girl was growing up. Anyway, let the games begin. The first kid got up and started around the circle duck, duck, duck, etc. First round, no goose for Kate, second round, no goose for Kate, after round six still no goose for Kate. Now I’m ticked and holding back a hissy fit. I sat there and watched my baby girl sit on pins and needles waiting to be picked. I did not know whether to cry or go grab the little girl that had already been goose 3 times by the pig tail and drag her over to Kate.
All I can say is the Good Lord put one hand on my heart and the other over my mouth reminded me where I was and Kate finally got picked. She ran and laughed when she finally got her turn, but then she was done and walked away from the other kids.
Duck, duck, goose was no longer good enough for Kate, she was ready for a solid game of “Hide and Go Seek”!
I guess she will not be scared for life after all!
Tuesday, August 12, 2008
Drama Queen
Yesterday Kate and I walked Carter into school for his second official day. However, it was Kate’s first official day of getting to take her brother to school. We parked the car and I gave her “the speech”. Be good, hold my hand, don’t talk loud, don’t run and no hissy fits! Kate agreed to my terms and off we went into the school. We took Carter into the MPR and he sat with his classmates. Well, Kate took a seat beside Carter and told me bye! I hugged Carter goodbye and took Kate by the hand. She would not budge! She yelled at me that she was not leaving her “baby” (Carter) and that she was going to school too.
I was soooo embarrassed! I knelt down and whispered to her that we had to leave “baby” there and I reach to pick here up. She went completely dead weight on me! I let go of her, trying not to cause a scene. Then she throws herself in the floor and starts to scream “help me, help me please!”. I was looking for the nearest table to crawl under, but I knew I could not leave her there. I was left with no other choice but to scoop Kate up under my arm and physically remove her (while kicking and screaming) from the MPR. All the parents we passed gave Kate that look of “oh, how sweet! She does not want to leave her brother”. Yeah right! They need to give her a look more like “good Lord, get that kid out of here look”.
We made it to the car, finally! Then came my ultimate weapon….memaw (Mark‘s mom)! I use her as my ultimate threat with Kate. I simply told her that if she had one more episode like, she would have to go to memaw’s while I took Carter to school everyday. It worked!
Today went much smoother and I did not even have to release my flying monkeys.
I was soooo embarrassed! I knelt down and whispered to her that we had to leave “baby” there and I reach to pick here up. She went completely dead weight on me! I let go of her, trying not to cause a scene. Then she throws herself in the floor and starts to scream “help me, help me please!”. I was looking for the nearest table to crawl under, but I knew I could not leave her there. I was left with no other choice but to scoop Kate up under my arm and physically remove her (while kicking and screaming) from the MPR. All the parents we passed gave Kate that look of “oh, how sweet! She does not want to leave her brother”. Yeah right! They need to give her a look more like “good Lord, get that kid out of here look”.
We made it to the car, finally! Then came my ultimate weapon….memaw (Mark‘s mom)! I use her as my ultimate threat with Kate. I simply told her that if she had one more episode like, she would have to go to memaw’s while I took Carter to school everyday. It worked!
Today went much smoother and I did not even have to release my flying monkeys.
Friday, August 8, 2008
Looks Like We Made It
Well, today was Carter’s first day of kindergarten and to quote Shania Twain “Looks like we made it”. I was very proud of Carter and I was even more proud of myself. He was such a big boy and I am proud to say that I too was on my best behavior.
We began our morning at school in the MPR (multi-purpose room). Carter and I were sitting there waiting to go into his classroom and I was holding back the tears. I walked him to his room and I had to beg him for a hug. He went straight to his desk, sat down, and waved bye to me. That’s it? That’s all I get? Five years I have fed him, dressed him, and wiped his behind and that’s all. A forced hug and a slight wave. Kindergarten is a big deal and I was looking for a Kodak moment! Oh well, I am glad that he was so excited to be there and did not attach himself to my leg. As a matter of fact, I did not see any kids attached to any legs, but I did see a few parents being pulled around.
After the “drop-off”, parents had to report back to the MPR for our first ever PTSF meeting. Yeah! What was the topic of our first meeting? None other than the annual Sally Foster wrapping paper fundraiser. I was so excited! I LOVE Sally Foster wrapping paper! Don’t you? So now Carter and I have a mission. We must sell 140 items. That’s the big number, the number we need to win the coveted I-Pod. Carter does not even know what an I-Pod is, but that is not the point. The point is to win. I’d better get busy, wrapping paper will not sell itself.
I have a feeling it is going to be a long year.
We began our morning at school in the MPR (multi-purpose room). Carter and I were sitting there waiting to go into his classroom and I was holding back the tears. I walked him to his room and I had to beg him for a hug. He went straight to his desk, sat down, and waved bye to me. That’s it? That’s all I get? Five years I have fed him, dressed him, and wiped his behind and that’s all. A forced hug and a slight wave. Kindergarten is a big deal and I was looking for a Kodak moment! Oh well, I am glad that he was so excited to be there and did not attach himself to my leg. As a matter of fact, I did not see any kids attached to any legs, but I did see a few parents being pulled around.
After the “drop-off”, parents had to report back to the MPR for our first ever PTSF meeting. Yeah! What was the topic of our first meeting? None other than the annual Sally Foster wrapping paper fundraiser. I was so excited! I LOVE Sally Foster wrapping paper! Don’t you? So now Carter and I have a mission. We must sell 140 items. That’s the big number, the number we need to win the coveted I-Pod. Carter does not even know what an I-Pod is, but that is not the point. The point is to win. I’d better get busy, wrapping paper will not sell itself.
I have a feeling it is going to be a long year.
Wednesday, August 6, 2008
Potty Party
A strange ritual takes place at our house everyday, often times more than once a day. There is a pilgrimage to the potty that is like none other. You see, Kate is Carter’s “potty buddy”. Every time Carter goes to the potty, Kate insists on going with him. He will take his place on the toilet and Kate takes her place sitting in the bathtub. They just sit in there and have a big conversation while Carter takes care of business! They enjoy each others company so much that Carter will hunt Kate down just to tell her he is going to potty so she can come too.
This little ritual totally freaks Mark out. He does not understand why in this world anyone would go to the bathroom with somebody. Mark thinks that a persons time in the bathroom is sacred and should never be “shared” with anyone. Does any of this sound familiar ladies?
I tried to explain to Mark how it works. I can remember growing up, I sat in many a bath tub and hardly ever went to the bathroom alone. My friends and I always went with each other to the bathroom. As I got a little older (teenager), I gave up tub sitting for primping in the mirror, but it was completely normal. That is where we discussed the days events. It is where we found solitude in a world gone mad. Think about it, even as adults women have a tendency to accompany each other to the bathroom. I see it in restaurants all the time. Normally, it is just to gossip, but sometimes it is to assist with a crisis in wardrobe or makeup.
I think God gave women a special gene for “potty parties”. God knew that once we had children it would be YEARS before we would ever go to potty alone.
This little ritual totally freaks Mark out. He does not understand why in this world anyone would go to the bathroom with somebody. Mark thinks that a persons time in the bathroom is sacred and should never be “shared” with anyone. Does any of this sound familiar ladies?
I tried to explain to Mark how it works. I can remember growing up, I sat in many a bath tub and hardly ever went to the bathroom alone. My friends and I always went with each other to the bathroom. As I got a little older (teenager), I gave up tub sitting for primping in the mirror, but it was completely normal. That is where we discussed the days events. It is where we found solitude in a world gone mad. Think about it, even as adults women have a tendency to accompany each other to the bathroom. I see it in restaurants all the time. Normally, it is just to gossip, but sometimes it is to assist with a crisis in wardrobe or makeup.
I think God gave women a special gene for “potty parties”. God knew that once we had children it would be YEARS before we would ever go to potty alone.
Monday, August 4, 2008
Are You Matching Today?
Saturday was our state’s annual sales tax holiday. These “holidays” are like cattle calls for every debutante and redneck across the state of Georgia. People who refuse to shop anywhere but Wal-Mart will even go to the mall on the annual sales tax holiday. If you did not know any better you would think it was Christmas Eve.
Of course my mother and I had to get out with all the other crazy people and get a piece of the “no tax” pie, not that we needed an excuse to shop, but it sounded good at the time. We had been shopping for awhile and it was time to try on our choices. Mom went first and I sat with the kids in a “waiting area” outside the dressing rooms. I have to admit the kids were on their best behavior, so I sat back and did my favorite thing which is dressing room review 101. DRR 101 as I like to call it, is were I sit outside of the dressing room and critique (to myself) what other people come out wearing. Don’t act like you are offended, you know you have done it too.
One shopper in the dressing rooms caught my attention. She was helping out a friend that was trying on a lot of clothes. Her speaking voice was very loud and you could tell she did not mind that everyone in the store could hear what she was saying. Her friend was apparently trying on bras so she begins to tell her how she never wore panties that did not match her bra. Oh! those were the days. I too can remember when I would not leave the house if my bra did not match my panties, but then came kids and a good dose of reality.
The woman continued on with her matching panties routine and then it happened. She told her “friend” that she preferred thongs. Oh Dear Lord! It was all I could do to keep my mouth shut. Did I mention that this woman was not a Victoria’s Secret model? Well, she was not and far from it! So when the term “thong” came out of her mouth I had to bite my tongue. I am a firm believer that some things should not come in some sizes. Now, I know that all of this may sound mean, but I think you will forgive me when you find out what she did.
If I concentrate really hard I can remember bits and pieces of my life before I had children. The one thing I remember very clear is the respect I had for people with children. My respect ran especially deep when it came to people shopping with their children. It may have been sympathy and not respect, but anyway I was nice to them. Now that I take my own two kids shopping, I just wish other people would take a page out of the “nice” book.
It was my turn in the dressing room, so mom took her post with the kids. Carter and Kate were playing school to entertain themselves and they were not being loud or wild. They were simply talking to each other. I came out with my first outfit on and I noticed “thong girl” outside of the friends door. Her friend was talking to her and then it happened. “Thong girl” looked over her shoulder at my kids rolled her eyes and said “I’m sorry Kim, but I CAN NOT HEAR YOU!” Oh, no she didn’t! I know she did not just roll her eyes at my kids and raise her voice toward them. I stood there staring her down just waiting on her to say something else. I could feel the southern belle redneck rising up inside me. Add my P.M.S. to the mix and “Katie bar the door”, I was about to loose my religion and claw her eyes out.
My mother was the voice of reason. She simply said as loud as she could “that’s o.k. Stef, she will have kids someday”. Mom was probably right, she would have kids someday. Maybe her matching bra and thong will help her out a little.
Of course my mother and I had to get out with all the other crazy people and get a piece of the “no tax” pie, not that we needed an excuse to shop, but it sounded good at the time. We had been shopping for awhile and it was time to try on our choices. Mom went first and I sat with the kids in a “waiting area” outside the dressing rooms. I have to admit the kids were on their best behavior, so I sat back and did my favorite thing which is dressing room review 101. DRR 101 as I like to call it, is were I sit outside of the dressing room and critique (to myself) what other people come out wearing. Don’t act like you are offended, you know you have done it too.
One shopper in the dressing rooms caught my attention. She was helping out a friend that was trying on a lot of clothes. Her speaking voice was very loud and you could tell she did not mind that everyone in the store could hear what she was saying. Her friend was apparently trying on bras so she begins to tell her how she never wore panties that did not match her bra. Oh! those were the days. I too can remember when I would not leave the house if my bra did not match my panties, but then came kids and a good dose of reality.
The woman continued on with her matching panties routine and then it happened. She told her “friend” that she preferred thongs. Oh Dear Lord! It was all I could do to keep my mouth shut. Did I mention that this woman was not a Victoria’s Secret model? Well, she was not and far from it! So when the term “thong” came out of her mouth I had to bite my tongue. I am a firm believer that some things should not come in some sizes. Now, I know that all of this may sound mean, but I think you will forgive me when you find out what she did.
If I concentrate really hard I can remember bits and pieces of my life before I had children. The one thing I remember very clear is the respect I had for people with children. My respect ran especially deep when it came to people shopping with their children. It may have been sympathy and not respect, but anyway I was nice to them. Now that I take my own two kids shopping, I just wish other people would take a page out of the “nice” book.
It was my turn in the dressing room, so mom took her post with the kids. Carter and Kate were playing school to entertain themselves and they were not being loud or wild. They were simply talking to each other. I came out with my first outfit on and I noticed “thong girl” outside of the friends door. Her friend was talking to her and then it happened. “Thong girl” looked over her shoulder at my kids rolled her eyes and said “I’m sorry Kim, but I CAN NOT HEAR YOU!” Oh, no she didn’t! I know she did not just roll her eyes at my kids and raise her voice toward them. I stood there staring her down just waiting on her to say something else. I could feel the southern belle redneck rising up inside me. Add my P.M.S. to the mix and “Katie bar the door”, I was about to loose my religion and claw her eyes out.
My mother was the voice of reason. She simply said as loud as she could “that’s o.k. Stef, she will have kids someday”. Mom was probably right, she would have kids someday. Maybe her matching bra and thong will help her out a little.
Friday, August 1, 2008
A Chapter Closes
I love my children with my whole heart and soul, but I have come to realize that loving them so much has brought me more heartache than I could have ever imagined. I was just sitting down to have lunch and it hit me that Carter starts kindergarten a week from today and I felt true pain in my heart. The tears started to flow. That was 30 minutes ago and I can’t stop crying.
I think back to when I found out I was pregnant with Carter. I received a call from my doctor’s office and the nurse basically told me that based on my latest test results I probably would not be able to conceive. Mark and I were completely devastated.
I had not been feeling well for several days and I decided to take a pregnancy test (I thought it was just wishful thinking). The test came back positive and I took two more test (same day). All were positive. If you do the math, I was pregnant when the doctor’s office had called to break the bad news. It’s safe to say that when I showed up for my first prenatal appointment a week after “the call” I was treated like royalty.
My “final” doctor’s appointment was on Tuesday March 25, 2005 at 4:00pm. My blood pressure was up and the doctor decided we needed to schedule an induction. I was two weeks away from my due date, so I thought that “schedule” meant the end of the week. The doctor came back into the room and sent me directly to the hospital to have prostaglandin gel applied. We went home for the night and had to be back at the hospital at 5:00am. To make a long story short, at 1:10pm Wednesday March 26, 2005 I gave birth to an 8lb 6oz baby boy.
All of this seems just like yesterday and I have cherished everyday that we have been blessed with spending together. It was not my life long desire to be a stay at home mom, but it was the best decision I ever made. I was there for every tear, smile, step, fall, and word. I was blessed by them all, but now I wish I had cherished them more.
A chapter in Carter’s life is closing and it is so hard to let go. His preschool years are over and I can not get them back. If I knew then what I know now, I would have paid more attention, documented more events and been much more “in the moment”. My house cleaning and laundry could have waited another day.
A Note To Carter…
Dearest Carter,
A new chapter is about to begin for you. A new adventure is waiting for you and many new possibilities. Try to find the joy and wonder in all things and share your laughter with everyone. My prayer for you is to always remember our love for you and especially God’s love for you. May God give you safety and continue to build his hedge of protection around you. I love you with all my heart baby boy. Have a great time at school!
Love,
Mommy
I think back to when I found out I was pregnant with Carter. I received a call from my doctor’s office and the nurse basically told me that based on my latest test results I probably would not be able to conceive. Mark and I were completely devastated.
I had not been feeling well for several days and I decided to take a pregnancy test (I thought it was just wishful thinking). The test came back positive and I took two more test (same day). All were positive. If you do the math, I was pregnant when the doctor’s office had called to break the bad news. It’s safe to say that when I showed up for my first prenatal appointment a week after “the call” I was treated like royalty.
My “final” doctor’s appointment was on Tuesday March 25, 2005 at 4:00pm. My blood pressure was up and the doctor decided we needed to schedule an induction. I was two weeks away from my due date, so I thought that “schedule” meant the end of the week. The doctor came back into the room and sent me directly to the hospital to have prostaglandin gel applied. We went home for the night and had to be back at the hospital at 5:00am. To make a long story short, at 1:10pm Wednesday March 26, 2005 I gave birth to an 8lb 6oz baby boy.
All of this seems just like yesterday and I have cherished everyday that we have been blessed with spending together. It was not my life long desire to be a stay at home mom, but it was the best decision I ever made. I was there for every tear, smile, step, fall, and word. I was blessed by them all, but now I wish I had cherished them more.
A chapter in Carter’s life is closing and it is so hard to let go. His preschool years are over and I can not get them back. If I knew then what I know now, I would have paid more attention, documented more events and been much more “in the moment”. My house cleaning and laundry could have waited another day.
A Note To Carter…
Dearest Carter,
A new chapter is about to begin for you. A new adventure is waiting for you and many new possibilities. Try to find the joy and wonder in all things and share your laughter with everyone. My prayer for you is to always remember our love for you and especially God’s love for you. May God give you safety and continue to build his hedge of protection around you. I love you with all my heart baby boy. Have a great time at school!
Love,
Mommy
Thursday, July 31, 2008
Adventures In Babysitting
I have the up most respect for people who babysit children full time. I know that sounds strange coming from a full time mom, but babysitting is stressful. It’s not your kids, they belong to someone else. It’s not your kids mess, it’s someone else’s kids mess. Ya’ get what I saying?
Earlier this week, a friend of mine ask me to babysit her daughter for a few days. I truly did not mind keeping her, but having a extra child with you that is not yours is traumatic. I have had to watch what I say and do. I have not been able to run around in my pajamas all day. I can’t even leave the door open when I go to the bathroom. It is total culture shock! Maybe I’m crazy and maybe I’m the only person who feels this way, but babysitting is too much like work.
Earlier this week, a friend of mine ask me to babysit her daughter for a few days. I truly did not mind keeping her, but having a extra child with you that is not yours is traumatic. I have had to watch what I say and do. I have not been able to run around in my pajamas all day. I can’t even leave the door open when I go to the bathroom. It is total culture shock! Maybe I’m crazy and maybe I’m the only person who feels this way, but babysitting is too much like work.
Monday, July 28, 2008
What Not To Wear
Carter started tennis lessons today and that opens a whole can of worms for me to write about. Now, I have a few theories about fashion that I try to live by.
(Stay with me, point coming…)
1. Always dress for the occasion
(try not to look like your in your pajamas)
2. If you participate in a sport or activity, dress for it
(it does not matter if you are any good at it as long as you look good doing it)
3. At least try to look like you saw yourself in the mirror before you left home
(make sure you shoes match each other and your hair is brushed)
Today we are focusing on theory number 2.
All the kids at tennis this morning looked so cute. They had their little outfits on and their little rackets in their hands. Precious! However, I noticed something disturbing with the other moms. Nine out of twelve had on tennis skirts. Now, this is not a “Mommy and Me” tennis lesson. I also know that the women’s tennis league at the Country Club wasn’t playing this morning. So I have to ask myself, “what’s with the skirts? I am not against a good tennis skirt and I have several myself, but I wear them when I play tennis. It is very rare that I have ever felt uncomfortable about what I was wearing, but today I felt out of place. Is there a new rule I don’t know about? Am I suppose to dress for the sport my children are doing at that time? Does this mean I will have to wear a leotard to Kate’s dance classes? I am so confused!
Don’t let it be said that I can’t “go with the flow”. I came straight home from tennis, went to my closet and got out my best tennis skirt. Tomorrow, I too shall look prepared to play a little tennis game if necessary. I now know what not to wear!
I wonder if I need to bring my racket too?
(Stay with me, point coming…)
1. Always dress for the occasion
(try not to look like your in your pajamas)
2. If you participate in a sport or activity, dress for it
(it does not matter if you are any good at it as long as you look good doing it)
3. At least try to look like you saw yourself in the mirror before you left home
(make sure you shoes match each other and your hair is brushed)
Today we are focusing on theory number 2.
All the kids at tennis this morning looked so cute. They had their little outfits on and their little rackets in their hands. Precious! However, I noticed something disturbing with the other moms. Nine out of twelve had on tennis skirts. Now, this is not a “Mommy and Me” tennis lesson. I also know that the women’s tennis league at the Country Club wasn’t playing this morning. So I have to ask myself, “what’s with the skirts? I am not against a good tennis skirt and I have several myself, but I wear them when I play tennis. It is very rare that I have ever felt uncomfortable about what I was wearing, but today I felt out of place. Is there a new rule I don’t know about? Am I suppose to dress for the sport my children are doing at that time? Does this mean I will have to wear a leotard to Kate’s dance classes? I am so confused!
Don’t let it be said that I can’t “go with the flow”. I came straight home from tennis, went to my closet and got out my best tennis skirt. Tomorrow, I too shall look prepared to play a little tennis game if necessary. I now know what not to wear!
I wonder if I need to bring my racket too?
Who Says You Can’t Go Home Again
We’re baaack! Our family getaway is over and I can’t say I am sad about it. I know that sounds bad, but you’ll understand why by the end of this story.
We left Thursday morning about 6:30am even though the condo was only 3 hours away. Mark’s theory is no matter where you are going, it’s always better to get an early start. I tend to view things a little different than he does when it comes to getting up early. We had a good time and everyone got along great (even Cater and Kate) until Saturday. That is when it all fell apart.
We woke up Saturday morning to the sound of rain on the patio. It was the kind of rain that makes you want to sleep all day, but not MY kids. The weather made it hard to do anything but shop, which just so happens to be my favorite sport. By the end of the day the kids were crying, Mark and I were arguing and we were all ready to go home!
Did I mention that our condo was on the top of a mountain? Yep! Way up high! Saturday night before we started up the mountain, Mark said we had a quarter of a tank of gas and that should be plenty until we start home in the morning. Sunday morning came and we could not get the car packed fast enough. We started down the mountain and the fun began. We had begun our decent when Mark took note that the gas hand had moved considerably. I told him it was because we were going downhill and it would adjust. He rolled his eyes at me. It was MY car we were driving and I do know a few things about my own gas gauge.
The further down the mountain we got the paler Mark’s face got. I told him not to panic and then I said the famous six words, “the gas light isn’t even on”. At the very moment the bell dinged and on came the gas light. I could not help but laugh. So then, Mark gets mad at me. Why? I do not know. I told him that I’m not the one who decided not to get gas until we left. His response was simple “because it’s your car”. Whatever!
Halfway down the road, he turned off the air conditioner in the car (trying to save gas, no doubt). So down came the windows and out came my giggles. I could not help it and I was out of control. When I finally caught my breath, Mark had picked up speed and was now going about 45 mph through the Smokey Mountain National Forest. I know that does not seem very fast, but remember we’re talking about a mountain. As if the situation wasn’t funny enough, the following conversation came pouring out of the backseat. Kate “Brrrooother, what’s haaappening?” Carter “Daaaddddy neeeeds toooo saaave gaaas!” All of this and their hair blowing in the wind and their eyes watering! It was too much, so the giggles started again!
We finally made it to the bottom of the mountain and to the first gas station we could find. Mark looked over at me and said “I am glad you find this so funny”. I simply said “Yes, and I am sorry you were the only one not laughing”!
It’s good to be home.
We left Thursday morning about 6:30am even though the condo was only 3 hours away. Mark’s theory is no matter where you are going, it’s always better to get an early start. I tend to view things a little different than he does when it comes to getting up early. We had a good time and everyone got along great (even Cater and Kate) until Saturday. That is when it all fell apart.
We woke up Saturday morning to the sound of rain on the patio. It was the kind of rain that makes you want to sleep all day, but not MY kids. The weather made it hard to do anything but shop, which just so happens to be my favorite sport. By the end of the day the kids were crying, Mark and I were arguing and we were all ready to go home!
Did I mention that our condo was on the top of a mountain? Yep! Way up high! Saturday night before we started up the mountain, Mark said we had a quarter of a tank of gas and that should be plenty until we start home in the morning. Sunday morning came and we could not get the car packed fast enough. We started down the mountain and the fun began. We had begun our decent when Mark took note that the gas hand had moved considerably. I told him it was because we were going downhill and it would adjust. He rolled his eyes at me. It was MY car we were driving and I do know a few things about my own gas gauge.
The further down the mountain we got the paler Mark’s face got. I told him not to panic and then I said the famous six words, “the gas light isn’t even on”. At the very moment the bell dinged and on came the gas light. I could not help but laugh. So then, Mark gets mad at me. Why? I do not know. I told him that I’m not the one who decided not to get gas until we left. His response was simple “because it’s your car”. Whatever!
Halfway down the road, he turned off the air conditioner in the car (trying to save gas, no doubt). So down came the windows and out came my giggles. I could not help it and I was out of control. When I finally caught my breath, Mark had picked up speed and was now going about 45 mph through the Smokey Mountain National Forest. I know that does not seem very fast, but remember we’re talking about a mountain. As if the situation wasn’t funny enough, the following conversation came pouring out of the backseat. Kate “Brrrooother, what’s haaappening?” Carter “Daaaddddy neeeeds toooo saaave gaaas!” All of this and their hair blowing in the wind and their eyes watering! It was too much, so the giggles started again!
We finally made it to the bottom of the mountain and to the first gas station we could find. Mark looked over at me and said “I am glad you find this so funny”. I simply said “Yes, and I am sorry you were the only one not laughing”!
It’s good to be home.
Wednesday, July 23, 2008
The Night The Lights Went Out In Georgia
I need a job and ya’ll are going to daycare! I yelled that statement more than a few times yesterday. A trend has begun in our household and it is really beginning to get on my last nerve.
Carter and Kate are fighting like cats and dogs. There is no happy medium with these two. They are either loving all over each other or scratching each others eyes out. I knew that someday I would have to breakup fights between them, but I really thought I had a few years before I would have to say “leave your sister alone” and “get off your brother”. The sad thing is that Kate is usually the one who hurts Carter.
Late in the afternoon they started to calm down. “Alvin and the Kickmunks” as Kate calls them had came on TV and all was right with the world. Don’t judge me, I do not use the TV as a babysitter, but simply a moderator. My kids are not as mesmerized by the TV, but they do watch it early in the evening before “bath and bed prep” begins. It’s their security blanket.
Peace had spread throughout the land and I began to cook dinner. I noticed that it had gotten darker outside (it was 5:15) and it looked like it might storm. Mark got home about an hour later and we had dinner. Again, it was peaceful and the world was at rest. Little did I know it was the calm before the storm, literally!
Around 7:30 it began to get even cloudier and darker outside. To quote Garth Brooks, “The thunder rolled and the lightning strikes”. About fifteen minutes later the power went off. I expected it to come back on quickly, but forty five minutes later, I gave up on that theory. The first hour was great. We all gathered in the living room and I told the kids stories by candlelight. Soon I began to wonder how people ever survived without electricity.
We are obviously not the poster family for the www.ready.gov website. We had one candle in the house and one flashlight with no batteries. I think we took the batteries out and put in one of the kids toys last Christmas. An hour and fifteen minutes had passed and the fun was over. It was dark, hot, and we were all on the edge of sanity. Kate was whining for the “Kickmunks” and Carter was beginning his role as the antagonist. Where is Mark during this whole “family reunion” you might ask? Asleep on the couch! The man could sleep through anything!
Finally, I gave up! I ordered everyone (under 4’ tall) to bed. Carter and Kate piled in the bed with me (we left Mark on the couch). Twenty minutes later the kids were fast asleep and two hours later the lights came back on in Georgia!
I will never take my electricity for granted again. God Bless Benjamin Franklin and his kite!
Carter and Kate are fighting like cats and dogs. There is no happy medium with these two. They are either loving all over each other or scratching each others eyes out. I knew that someday I would have to breakup fights between them, but I really thought I had a few years before I would have to say “leave your sister alone” and “get off your brother”. The sad thing is that Kate is usually the one who hurts Carter.
Late in the afternoon they started to calm down. “Alvin and the Kickmunks” as Kate calls them had came on TV and all was right with the world. Don’t judge me, I do not use the TV as a babysitter, but simply a moderator. My kids are not as mesmerized by the TV, but they do watch it early in the evening before “bath and bed prep” begins. It’s their security blanket.
Peace had spread throughout the land and I began to cook dinner. I noticed that it had gotten darker outside (it was 5:15) and it looked like it might storm. Mark got home about an hour later and we had dinner. Again, it was peaceful and the world was at rest. Little did I know it was the calm before the storm, literally!
Around 7:30 it began to get even cloudier and darker outside. To quote Garth Brooks, “The thunder rolled and the lightning strikes”. About fifteen minutes later the power went off. I expected it to come back on quickly, but forty five minutes later, I gave up on that theory. The first hour was great. We all gathered in the living room and I told the kids stories by candlelight. Soon I began to wonder how people ever survived without electricity.
We are obviously not the poster family for the www.ready.gov website. We had one candle in the house and one flashlight with no batteries. I think we took the batteries out and put in one of the kids toys last Christmas. An hour and fifteen minutes had passed and the fun was over. It was dark, hot, and we were all on the edge of sanity. Kate was whining for the “Kickmunks” and Carter was beginning his role as the antagonist. Where is Mark during this whole “family reunion” you might ask? Asleep on the couch! The man could sleep through anything!
Finally, I gave up! I ordered everyone (under 4’ tall) to bed. Carter and Kate piled in the bed with me (we left Mark on the couch). Twenty minutes later the kids were fast asleep and two hours later the lights came back on in Georgia!
I will never take my electricity for granted again. God Bless Benjamin Franklin and his kite!
Sunday, July 20, 2008
It Is All In The Follow Through
This weekend has been exhausting. I don’t know what has made it different from any other weekend, but it’s been crazy. Carter and Kate have had Mark and I so nuts, we could have thread a sewing machine with it running. I think my parents being on vacation might have something to do with it.
Typically we all go on vacation together, but my niece was playing in the Fast Pitch Softball World Series in Florida this past week and my parents went to see her play. Her team won 2nd place, yeah! My parents (a.k.a. my neighbors) got back into town this morning, thank GOD!
Carter has been especially rowdy since they have been gone. He is quite the Nana’s boy. So, we got home from church and my mom met us as soon as we arrived. Carter immediately wanted to go to her house. He has a bad habit of trying to keep Nana all to himself and away from Kate.
My mom and dad went back home to unpack and they told Carter that he could come over and help them take care of the pool when Kate took her nap. Kate is a little too “creative” to be helping with such a chore. Well, needless to say, Carter went nuts! He wanted to go right then and he would do any means necessary to get his way.
This is where my bad parenting comes into play. He starts to through a little fit and goes into his room and slams the door. Yes, my five year old slammed the door! Being the stern mother that I am, I told him that he could not go to Nana’s because of his little fit. Well, that’s when the crying started. The big huge crocodile tears started to fall and I could not contain myself. So then I go into my “if your good from now on I’ll let you go” mode.
Yes, it’s true. I am really thinking that I can not get him over there fast enough because he is driving me crazy! After several more moments of bad behavior and idol threats by me, Kate went to sleep and I sent Carter next door as fast I could get him there.
My mother (and the Supper Nanny) has always said that discipline is all in the follow through. I am sure they are right, but for now my house is quiet and that only happens once in a blue moon, so I think I will take a nap.
Typically we all go on vacation together, but my niece was playing in the Fast Pitch Softball World Series in Florida this past week and my parents went to see her play. Her team won 2nd place, yeah! My parents (a.k.a. my neighbors) got back into town this morning, thank GOD!
Carter has been especially rowdy since they have been gone. He is quite the Nana’s boy. So, we got home from church and my mom met us as soon as we arrived. Carter immediately wanted to go to her house. He has a bad habit of trying to keep Nana all to himself and away from Kate.
My mom and dad went back home to unpack and they told Carter that he could come over and help them take care of the pool when Kate took her nap. Kate is a little too “creative” to be helping with such a chore. Well, needless to say, Carter went nuts! He wanted to go right then and he would do any means necessary to get his way.
This is where my bad parenting comes into play. He starts to through a little fit and goes into his room and slams the door. Yes, my five year old slammed the door! Being the stern mother that I am, I told him that he could not go to Nana’s because of his little fit. Well, that’s when the crying started. The big huge crocodile tears started to fall and I could not contain myself. So then I go into my “if your good from now on I’ll let you go” mode.
Yes, it’s true. I am really thinking that I can not get him over there fast enough because he is driving me crazy! After several more moments of bad behavior and idol threats by me, Kate went to sleep and I sent Carter next door as fast I could get him there.
My mother (and the Supper Nanny) has always said that discipline is all in the follow through. I am sure they are right, but for now my house is quiet and that only happens once in a blue moon, so I think I will take a nap.
Thursday, July 17, 2008
Accept No Substitute
Yesterday, I laid down the law. I decided that Kate was drinking too much juice and I cut her off. I started giving her water in her sippy cup. Keep in mind that Kate is a HEAVY drinker. She even takes her cup to bed with her.
Kate’s drink of choice even over juice is none other than Diet Coke. (She is her mother’s daughter.) I have never just given her a Diet Coke and said here ya’ go, but she has sampled mine on numerous occasions. From the day of her first sip she was hooked. You can not leave one sitting around because if she finds it, it will be gone. If she sees them in the pantry she will beg for one. Therefore, I have to hide them.
Now back to yesterday. She was OK at first, but as the day went on she began to get whiny. I was beginning to get a little whiny myself. You see, I felt bad for cutting her off so I too stuck to only water. Typically that is not a problem, I drink water all the time except first thing in the morning. Diet Coke is my coffee! Around 3:00pm I was desperate for caffeine, but I could not let Kate know I was falling off the wagon .
While Kate was busy playing, I tip toed into the pantry and got my can of “mojo” and took it into the laundry room. Our laundry room is on the other side of the house and I had a load of laundry on the spin cycle. There was no way she would hear the can open. I popped the top and began to pour when suddenly I heard the pitter patter of little feet coming through the kitchen. Busted! I quickly hid the can and turned the light off. Kate said “ Can I have some Diet Coke?” Forgive me Lord for lying, but I said “Kate, mommy does not have any Diet Coke.” She looked at me rather sadly, lowered her head and walked away.
Yes, I feel horrible and yes I drank the Diet Coke!
Kate’s drink of choice even over juice is none other than Diet Coke. (She is her mother’s daughter.) I have never just given her a Diet Coke and said here ya’ go, but she has sampled mine on numerous occasions. From the day of her first sip she was hooked. You can not leave one sitting around because if she finds it, it will be gone. If she sees them in the pantry she will beg for one. Therefore, I have to hide them.
Now back to yesterday. She was OK at first, but as the day went on she began to get whiny. I was beginning to get a little whiny myself. You see, I felt bad for cutting her off so I too stuck to only water. Typically that is not a problem, I drink water all the time except first thing in the morning. Diet Coke is my coffee! Around 3:00pm I was desperate for caffeine, but I could not let Kate know I was falling off the wagon .
While Kate was busy playing, I tip toed into the pantry and got my can of “mojo” and took it into the laundry room. Our laundry room is on the other side of the house and I had a load of laundry on the spin cycle. There was no way she would hear the can open. I popped the top and began to pour when suddenly I heard the pitter patter of little feet coming through the kitchen. Busted! I quickly hid the can and turned the light off. Kate said “ Can I have some Diet Coke?” Forgive me Lord for lying, but I said “Kate, mommy does not have any Diet Coke.” She looked at me rather sadly, lowered her head and walked away.
Yes, I feel horrible and yes I drank the Diet Coke!
Wednesday, July 16, 2008
Winner Takes All!
As I predicted, the battle is over and Mark has accepted defeat. We are going on vacation! After careful plotting on my part, he gave in quite easily. There was no need for a hissy fit or any other drastic measures on my part. I am looking forward to spending time with Mark and the kids.
Honestly, this is more a vacation for me than Mark. The kids are all about daddy when we go away, so I get a little time to myself. Daddy carries their toys to the beach, daddy plays ball with them, daddy gets water for their sand castles, and mommy lays on the beach and works on her tan. When I think about it like that, no wonder Mark did not want to go. Ha! Ha! Sounds like the great American vacation to me. We have a week before we leave so I am sure that I will have much more to report before we go. In the mean time, I have some shopping to do….
Honestly, this is more a vacation for me than Mark. The kids are all about daddy when we go away, so I get a little time to myself. Daddy carries their toys to the beach, daddy plays ball with them, daddy gets water for their sand castles, and mommy lays on the beach and works on her tan. When I think about it like that, no wonder Mark did not want to go. Ha! Ha! Sounds like the great American vacation to me. We have a week before we leave so I am sure that I will have much more to report before we go. In the mean time, I have some shopping to do….
Monday, July 14, 2008
Vacation Planning 101
I just do not understand it. I do not understand how one man can be so frustrating. As I have said before, Mark is cheap. He is the cheapest of cheap and now I have the story to prove it.
Mark works all the time. So needless to say it is very hard to get him to go on vacation. Please do not misunderstand me, I know that Mark working long hours is what allows us to live a good life.
Our typical vacation consists of the kids and I going with my parents on their vacation. Don’t get me wrong, once in a blue moon Mark will cave in and go on a real live family vacation. Just last year we took the kids to Disney World. It was like pulling teeth to get him to go, but he did and he had a great time.
So anyway back to my story. We were eating lunch after church yesterday, and Mark suddenly decided we should go away for a long weekend. After my initial shock, I did a little happy dance and got straight to work on the “planning” phase. After all, he wants to go in just two weeks. He said he would like to go to the coast and that works for me. It is July so any kind of vacation for me needs to involve water and sand.
As my planning went further, I realized we were in major trouble. Our normal condominium on the coast was all booked up and everywhere I checked required a full weeks stay in July. I spent three hours on the internet looking for a place to stay. I finally surrendered to Mark's second idea of going "the mountains". I pulled all of my information together to make my “presentation”. You see when you are trying to convince Mark to spend money it requires a full blown presentation.
After all of the work I did, he looked at me and said “I don’t think this is such a good idea”. Seriously? You have got to be kidding me. He decided that he just did not want to spend the money. Seriously? Did he think it was going to be free when he came up with the idea?
Of course I handled this in a very mature manner. I cried! I was so mad that is all I could do.
We are now on day two of this vacation planning mess and we are no better off than on day one. Mark seems to be leaning toward going, but only because he is afraid of retaliation from me. He might actually have to eat bologna sandwiches for a week and do his own laundry. Ya’ know I do feel a sick headache coming on…
I just need a vacation!
Mark works all the time. So needless to say it is very hard to get him to go on vacation. Please do not misunderstand me, I know that Mark working long hours is what allows us to live a good life.
Our typical vacation consists of the kids and I going with my parents on their vacation. Don’t get me wrong, once in a blue moon Mark will cave in and go on a real live family vacation. Just last year we took the kids to Disney World. It was like pulling teeth to get him to go, but he did and he had a great time.
So anyway back to my story. We were eating lunch after church yesterday, and Mark suddenly decided we should go away for a long weekend. After my initial shock, I did a little happy dance and got straight to work on the “planning” phase. After all, he wants to go in just two weeks. He said he would like to go to the coast and that works for me. It is July so any kind of vacation for me needs to involve water and sand.
As my planning went further, I realized we were in major trouble. Our normal condominium on the coast was all booked up and everywhere I checked required a full weeks stay in July. I spent three hours on the internet looking for a place to stay. I finally surrendered to Mark's second idea of going "the mountains". I pulled all of my information together to make my “presentation”. You see when you are trying to convince Mark to spend money it requires a full blown presentation.
After all of the work I did, he looked at me and said “I don’t think this is such a good idea”. Seriously? You have got to be kidding me. He decided that he just did not want to spend the money. Seriously? Did he think it was going to be free when he came up with the idea?
Of course I handled this in a very mature manner. I cried! I was so mad that is all I could do.
We are now on day two of this vacation planning mess and we are no better off than on day one. Mark seems to be leaning toward going, but only because he is afraid of retaliation from me. He might actually have to eat bologna sandwiches for a week and do his own laundry. Ya’ know I do feel a sick headache coming on…
I just need a vacation!
Saturday, July 12, 2008
The Great Yard Sale Debate
I got out of the bed this morning thinking it would be a quite Saturday morning. That was my first mistake. We got up early and went to Target and this is when the morning started to unravel.
We were driving down the road and everyone in the car was minding there own business, when Mark (my husband) takes notice of the numerous yard sales (that is southern for garage sales) that were taking place this morning. Now, a little background on Mark. He is an accountant, in other words he is cheap! If you stuck a lump of coal up Mark’s booty, in two weeks you would have a diamond. The first question out of his mouth was why have we not had a yard sale this summer. I could feel the tension begin to rise.
In my opinion, the sole purpose for a yard sale is getting rid of unwanted junk. I don’t particularly care for yard sales. I do not like having them, nor do I like shopping at them. Now, I am sure I have just offended those of you who love a good yard sale, but I am just being honest. If I want to buy something, I prefer doing it in an air conditioned mall surrounded by the smell of new shoes fresh out of the box and the lingering aroma of a Starbucks.
In Mark’s opinion, the sole purpose for a yard sale is making money. He gets a natural high from just the thoughts of having a yard sale. The worst part is, he not only tries to sell our junk, but he will go to his parents house and bring there junk too. Of course no one ever buys all this junk, so it ends up in my garage. Then we have to keep it and try to sell it again.
He actually admitted to me today, that he would like for us to try and have a yard sale two weekends out of EVERY month. First of all, I ask him what he put in his coffee this morning and then I ask him what in this world did he think we were going to sell for two weeks out of EVERY month. He told me not to worry he would go out and find us stuff. He has LOST HIS MIND or maybe he just has too much free time!
My response to Mark’s “business” idea as he called it was very simple. I went straight into my “momologue”. I am sure you have heard this one before, it goes a little something like this:
1. I have household to run
2. Carter has tennis lessons
3. Kate has ballet
4. Groceries have to be bought
5. Laundry has to be done
So one and so forth…
Once the “momologue” started, Mark completely shut up about yard sales. It works every time! So for now, the great yard sale debate has been put on the backburner. I am now reloading my “momologue” for the next time I need it.
We were driving down the road and everyone in the car was minding there own business, when Mark (my husband) takes notice of the numerous yard sales (that is southern for garage sales) that were taking place this morning. Now, a little background on Mark. He is an accountant, in other words he is cheap! If you stuck a lump of coal up Mark’s booty, in two weeks you would have a diamond. The first question out of his mouth was why have we not had a yard sale this summer. I could feel the tension begin to rise.
In my opinion, the sole purpose for a yard sale is getting rid of unwanted junk. I don’t particularly care for yard sales. I do not like having them, nor do I like shopping at them. Now, I am sure I have just offended those of you who love a good yard sale, but I am just being honest. If I want to buy something, I prefer doing it in an air conditioned mall surrounded by the smell of new shoes fresh out of the box and the lingering aroma of a Starbucks.
In Mark’s opinion, the sole purpose for a yard sale is making money. He gets a natural high from just the thoughts of having a yard sale. The worst part is, he not only tries to sell our junk, but he will go to his parents house and bring there junk too. Of course no one ever buys all this junk, so it ends up in my garage. Then we have to keep it and try to sell it again.
He actually admitted to me today, that he would like for us to try and have a yard sale two weekends out of EVERY month. First of all, I ask him what he put in his coffee this morning and then I ask him what in this world did he think we were going to sell for two weeks out of EVERY month. He told me not to worry he would go out and find us stuff. He has LOST HIS MIND or maybe he just has too much free time!
My response to Mark’s “business” idea as he called it was very simple. I went straight into my “momologue”. I am sure you have heard this one before, it goes a little something like this:
1. I have household to run
2. Carter has tennis lessons
3. Kate has ballet
4. Groceries have to be bought
5. Laundry has to be done
So one and so forth…
Once the “momologue” started, Mark completely shut up about yard sales. It works every time! So for now, the great yard sale debate has been put on the backburner. I am now reloading my “momologue” for the next time I need it.
Thursday, July 10, 2008
What Are Little Girls Made Of?
People have been telling since I was pregnant with Kate (my two year old daughter) how different siblings can be from one another. They were not joking. Carter (my five year old son) is an angel. He was a great baby and was surprisingly good even during the terrible twos. He is polite, well mannered and seemed to know things “not to do” by the time he was old enough to walk. I have decided he will either be a Southern Baptist Preacher or a Politician.
Kate is a different ballgame all together. She had colic and cried from 10:00pm until 2:00am every night for three months. She hated riding in a car until she was around 20 months old. She has been going through the terrible twos since she was 9 months old! She loves dirt (wearing it, eating it, either way is good for her). She eats money (she prefers pennies). She loves to play “princess”, but would love it even more if it involved mud. Bottom line Kate is just plain NASTY!
Her latest love is water. She loves to play in liquid of any kind. So I am thinking “YES!” this is a perfect opportunity for hand wash training. Washing her hands is not what she has in mind.
Tonight, I learned just how far she would go to “support her habit”.
I was sitting in the living room watching Grey’s Anatomy reruns when I noticed Kate in the kitchen stomping on the tile floor. I went into the kitchen and saw that she was “dancing” in a puddle of pink liquid that was later identified as Kool Aid. Here is were the nasty part comes to play. She did not pour the Kool Aid from her cup. “How did she get it in the floor?” you ask, she SPIT it in the floor! She would sip it from her cup and spit it out in the floor. Again I say, she is just plain NASTY!
Kate is a different ballgame all together. She had colic and cried from 10:00pm until 2:00am every night for three months. She hated riding in a car until she was around 20 months old. She has been going through the terrible twos since she was 9 months old! She loves dirt (wearing it, eating it, either way is good for her). She eats money (she prefers pennies). She loves to play “princess”, but would love it even more if it involved mud. Bottom line Kate is just plain NASTY!
Her latest love is water. She loves to play in liquid of any kind. So I am thinking “YES!” this is a perfect opportunity for hand wash training. Washing her hands is not what she has in mind.
Tonight, I learned just how far she would go to “support her habit”.
I was sitting in the living room watching Grey’s Anatomy reruns when I noticed Kate in the kitchen stomping on the tile floor. I went into the kitchen and saw that she was “dancing” in a puddle of pink liquid that was later identified as Kool Aid. Here is were the nasty part comes to play. She did not pour the Kool Aid from her cup. “How did she get it in the floor?” you ask, she SPIT it in the floor! She would sip it from her cup and spit it out in the floor. Again I say, she is just plain NASTY!
For Every Blog There is a Reason
Hi! I am a 34 year old stay at home mom. I have two beautiful kids. They are the most remarkable children in the world. Blah! Blah! Blah!
Let's get to the point. Why did I start this blog? I was sitting in my living room one day after a trip to Wal-Mart with my kids and I thought "my life is hilarious" I should write a book. Then I realized that I am not motivated enough for that, but a blog would work.
So back to this Wal-Mart story. For those of you who have never shopped at Wal-Mart (especially a Wal-Mart in the south) try to stay with me. As usual I was in a hurry so the kids and I go zooming through the store at a fast yet respectable speed. I am standing in the juice aisle when I feel something "bump" my buggy (that's southern for shopping cart). I looked up and there is a full grown weenier dog snarling at me from a basket on the front a shopping chair. You know what I am talking about. Those motorized chairs that are suppose to be for disabled people, but for some reason they are always being used by people who are fully capable of walking around and are just too lazy. Well, driving this weenier dog was one of those people I mentioned above. (She just did not want to walk)! She (the driver) was glaring at me wanting me to move out of her way. I'm sorry, but I had a problem with that. I am thinking to myself "GO AROUND ME!". I was making my juice selection and I had just as much right to be there as she did.
Being the nice person that I am I smiled at her and gave her the "I'll be done in a minute" nod. Then it happened, she gave the stare down. It was a stand off right there on the juice aisle. I was not moving and neither was she. Finally out of respect for my kids and not wanting to embarrass myself by going "southern belle redneck" on this woman and her weenier dog, I backed up and went around her.
I continued on with my "quick trip", but I was so mad by then I could not even speak. You see, I consider myself a nice person. I smile a lot (some days it is just to keep from crying), but nonetheless I am a nice person. I think it is just as easy to be nice to someone as it is to be rude so this lady's behavior infuriated me. My son who is wise beyond his five years said "Mom, why are you so mad?". I replied "because that woman is just plain rude!"
As our trip came to a close, we dashed toward the checkout counter. I chose a shorter line and as I approached the turn belt, I looked up and there was my juice aisle nemesis. To my defense she was just as rude to the cashier. My son observed her bad behavior for a second time. As she went speeding away on her motorized chair my son looked up at me and said "Mommy, I think we need to pray for her". I said "yes, we do son she was not very nice". He looked at me and said "I was talking about the dog mommy".
I told you my life is hilarious!!
Let's get to the point. Why did I start this blog? I was sitting in my living room one day after a trip to Wal-Mart with my kids and I thought "my life is hilarious" I should write a book. Then I realized that I am not motivated enough for that, but a blog would work.
So back to this Wal-Mart story. For those of you who have never shopped at Wal-Mart (especially a Wal-Mart in the south) try to stay with me. As usual I was in a hurry so the kids and I go zooming through the store at a fast yet respectable speed. I am standing in the juice aisle when I feel something "bump" my buggy (that's southern for shopping cart). I looked up and there is a full grown weenier dog snarling at me from a basket on the front a shopping chair. You know what I am talking about. Those motorized chairs that are suppose to be for disabled people, but for some reason they are always being used by people who are fully capable of walking around and are just too lazy. Well, driving this weenier dog was one of those people I mentioned above. (She just did not want to walk)! She (the driver) was glaring at me wanting me to move out of her way. I'm sorry, but I had a problem with that. I am thinking to myself "GO AROUND ME!". I was making my juice selection and I had just as much right to be there as she did.
Being the nice person that I am I smiled at her and gave her the "I'll be done in a minute" nod. Then it happened, she gave the stare down. It was a stand off right there on the juice aisle. I was not moving and neither was she. Finally out of respect for my kids and not wanting to embarrass myself by going "southern belle redneck" on this woman and her weenier dog, I backed up and went around her.
I continued on with my "quick trip", but I was so mad by then I could not even speak. You see, I consider myself a nice person. I smile a lot (some days it is just to keep from crying), but nonetheless I am a nice person. I think it is just as easy to be nice to someone as it is to be rude so this lady's behavior infuriated me. My son who is wise beyond his five years said "Mom, why are you so mad?". I replied "because that woman is just plain rude!"
As our trip came to a close, we dashed toward the checkout counter. I chose a shorter line and as I approached the turn belt, I looked up and there was my juice aisle nemesis. To my defense she was just as rude to the cashier. My son observed her bad behavior for a second time. As she went speeding away on her motorized chair my son looked up at me and said "Mommy, I think we need to pray for her". I said "yes, we do son she was not very nice". He looked at me and said "I was talking about the dog mommy".
I told you my life is hilarious!!
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