Conversations with Hayley this week:
After she falls out of her chair:
Daddy: What did you fall on? What did you hurt?
Hayley: MY WHOLE SELF! with arms thrown out for emphasis
On Hat Day at School:
Me: Hayley, do you want to wear a hat to school on Friday?
Hayley: Why?
Me: Because they are collecting money for boys and girls who are in the hospital who are sick.
Hayley: But I'm not sick (tearing up)
Me: No, you aren't. This is just a way to send money to the boys and girls who are sick.
Hayley: But I'm not sick!
(that was Wednesday, this morning...)
Me: Ok, we need to pick out a hat to wear to school.
Hayley: Why?
Me: Because today is hat day and we can wear a hat to school today.
Hayley: But I'm not sick (tearing up) *and yes, you would have thought I'd already learned my lesson at this point, but obviously I haven't)*
Me: I know. You don't have to be sick to wear a hat. Its kind of like sending a card that says feel better.
Hayley: looking at her hat "But my hat doesn't say feel better!"
Me: No, it doesn't. You just wear it to show we want the boys and girls to feel better.
Hayley: But I'm not sick! (tearing up)
oh sweet baby Jesus save me from this conversational logic fail.
Yesterday, in the oyster bar/seafood "restaurant"
Hayley: Bye Santa Claus! (to a man in a khaki coverall complete with khaki hat, but beard and general posture to match, but who has not spoken to us other than courtesy wave) *and thank you kind sir for indulging her*
Friday, September 30
Wednesday, September 28
Way Back...
Happy Huntin' Season...
surely this is a Southern ritual as there is no way we were actually hunting at this age.
And let it be know, that was the only time anything Tiger related was a favorite part of my wardrobe.
confession
When I became a mom, I thought, in my deluded completely unrealistic mind, that I would automatically, just from becoming a mom, be good at the things that Moms do...and, that they would come naturally.
You know, things like, cleaning house, ironing clothes, having matchy-matchy children, washing dishes, cooking dinner (although, I should have been able to dismiss this as it hadn't happened naturally at this point in my marriage so why would a baby change that??).
Anyway, I looked towards my Mom and grandmothers and other female relatives, and it seemed to come easily for them. It seemed like a natural progression of their days to tend to babies and house and spouse and not feel begrudged about those things.
But y'all, that was one big lie that created ridiculous amounts of guilt and resentment towards myself.
It doesn't work that way.
Things don't just change into some convuluted imagined lifestyle that we create in our heads.
I have never been a neat-freak. I will not ever be a neat-freak. But I have learned daily habits and patterns that make my home neater than not, at least most of the time...ok, SOME of the time.
I will not LIKE doing dishes. Cleaning bathrooms. Sweeping floors.
But I will do them. And I will learn to do them without holding a grudge towards the entire world that its a required part of family life.
The greatness of motherhood was almost stolen from me because I was beleieving the lies that I was not ENOUGH because I was not the sum parts of all the fantastic mothers I knew in real life, from tv, magazines or that I'd created in my head. I had subjected to myself to a competetion that was only real because I allowed it to be real.
And now I say, His grace is ENOUGH. His grace is made perfect in my weakness. His grace covers my parenting.
And now, while I may not fight the overarching ideals of motherhood that I had created, I can fight against the daily grind to choose this moment with my family over my to do list. I can choose to have a lighter heart knowing that God knew my family before it became to be. He choose my girls for me. My husband. My home. In Him, in His provision, I can find rest that whatever I do is enough.
(this post inspired by .Mom Conference...more to come)
You know, things like, cleaning house, ironing clothes, having matchy-matchy children, washing dishes, cooking dinner (although, I should have been able to dismiss this as it hadn't happened naturally at this point in my marriage so why would a baby change that??).
Anyway, I looked towards my Mom and grandmothers and other female relatives, and it seemed to come easily for them. It seemed like a natural progression of their days to tend to babies and house and spouse and not feel begrudged about those things.
But y'all, that was one big lie that created ridiculous amounts of guilt and resentment towards myself.
It doesn't work that way.
Things don't just change into some convuluted imagined lifestyle that we create in our heads.
I have never been a neat-freak. I will not ever be a neat-freak. But I have learned daily habits and patterns that make my home neater than not, at least most of the time...ok, SOME of the time.
I will not LIKE doing dishes. Cleaning bathrooms. Sweeping floors.
But I will do them. And I will learn to do them without holding a grudge towards the entire world that its a required part of family life.
The greatness of motherhood was almost stolen from me because I was beleieving the lies that I was not ENOUGH because I was not the sum parts of all the fantastic mothers I knew in real life, from tv, magazines or that I'd created in my head. I had subjected to myself to a competetion that was only real because I allowed it to be real.
And now I say, His grace is ENOUGH. His grace is made perfect in my weakness. His grace covers my parenting.
And now, while I may not fight the overarching ideals of motherhood that I had created, I can fight against the daily grind to choose this moment with my family over my to do list. I can choose to have a lighter heart knowing that God knew my family before it became to be. He choose my girls for me. My husband. My home. In Him, in His provision, I can find rest that whatever I do is enough.
(this post inspired by .Mom Conference...more to come)
Monday, September 26
This should be a fabulous post recaping .Mom and all that jazz.
Unfortunately, I thought tonight would be a great time to try and some new editing software.
Which means my brain and fingers are fried from navigating new software while not really reading the 300 page instruction manual....so you know, that's super helpful towards successful editing when you only skim 1% of the book.
Maybe tomorrow...
Oh and .Mom... it involves Kara, The Duggards, Construction on the Highway, No Free Internet, Big Mama & Boo Mama, and other all around greatness.
Unfortunately, I thought tonight would be a great time to try and some new editing software.
Which means my brain and fingers are fried from navigating new software while not really reading the 300 page instruction manual....so you know, that's super helpful towards successful editing when you only skim 1% of the book.
Maybe tomorrow...
Oh and .Mom... it involves Kara, The Duggards, Construction on the Highway, No Free Internet, Big Mama & Boo Mama, and other all around greatness.
Thursday, September 22
Fighting Back Friday
OK, how's about a real life update y'all? Because, trust me, its been a while!
First off, my Bowen girl, force.to.be.reckoned.with. Here's what happened this morning in the car:
Bowen is babbling in her car seat. Hayley is half-zombied next to her. We're crusing along...
Hayley: Bowen hit me with her shoe!
Me: Did she hit you or did she drop her shoe?
Hayley: She hit me!
Me: Bowen, no hitting.
Hayley: No, Mama, you're supposed to throw the shoe in the floorboard.
Me: It's already in the floorboard (dropped by Bowen)
about 1.5 minutes later
Hayley: Bowen hit me with her other shoe!
Me: Bowen, no hitting (as she throws shoe into the floorboard)
about 1.5 minutes later
Hayley: Bowen pinched me!
Bowen: Hayyyylleeeeeyyyy bakbahobakoba BABY!
(y'all, I'm 99% sure she just either told her to stop being a baby or tattled on her for being a baby! I almost wrecked!!)
Otherwise, we think we have Miss Hayley-bug straightened out after a week of weirdness possibly related to her stomach but mostly what we have determined to be stress/getting accustomed to her new routine/general life busyness at the time) We are being much more deliberate in monitoring her input of foods and making sure she's getting a variety (wide variety would be an overstatement at this point) of different fluids and foods. So far, so good!
I'm heading to .MOM this weekend with Kara and hoping to meet bloggers Big Mama & Boo Mama (and maybe some others too! see the whole line up at Lifeway.com) and hear some inspiring words for Mamas in the breakouts and worship sessions!!
Otherwise, life is life is life is life.
Oh, and for the sake of it, here's where I've been fighting back:
1. I'm leading exercise 2x a week at work.
2. I got posted on another blog!
3. I've shot two times with deliberate manual camera settings and don't hate every picture I took.
4. I'm going to .Mom for some spiritual encouragement!
5. I started Angie Smith's new book!
First off, my Bowen girl, force.to.be.reckoned.with. Here's what happened this morning in the car:
Bowen is babbling in her car seat. Hayley is half-zombied next to her. We're crusing along...
Hayley: Bowen hit me with her shoe!
Me: Did she hit you or did she drop her shoe?
Hayley: She hit me!
Me: Bowen, no hitting.
Hayley: No, Mama, you're supposed to throw the shoe in the floorboard.
Me: It's already in the floorboard (dropped by Bowen)
about 1.5 minutes later
Hayley: Bowen hit me with her other shoe!
Me: Bowen, no hitting (as she throws shoe into the floorboard)
about 1.5 minutes later
Hayley: Bowen pinched me!
Bowen: Hayyyylleeeeeyyyy bakbahobakoba BABY!
(y'all, I'm 99% sure she just either told her to stop being a baby or tattled on her for being a baby! I almost wrecked!!)
Otherwise, we think we have Miss Hayley-bug straightened out after a week of weirdness possibly related to her stomach but mostly what we have determined to be stress/getting accustomed to her new routine/general life busyness at the time) We are being much more deliberate in monitoring her input of foods and making sure she's getting a variety (wide variety would be an overstatement at this point) of different fluids and foods. So far, so good!
I'm heading to .MOM this weekend with Kara and hoping to meet bloggers Big Mama & Boo Mama (and maybe some others too! see the whole line up at Lifeway.com) and hear some inspiring words for Mamas in the breakouts and worship sessions!!
Otherwise, life is life is life is life.
Oh, and for the sake of it, here's where I've been fighting back:
1. I'm leading exercise 2x a week at work.
2. I got posted on another blog!
3. I've shot two times with deliberate manual camera settings and don't hate every picture I took.
4. I'm going to .Mom for some spiritual encouragement!
5. I started Angie Smith's new book!
Wednesday, September 21
Signage
I love signs and quotes and these are some of my favorites....
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...and, Clairee and Wendy, this one is for y'all....
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Linking Up With: http://thevintageapple.com/ (although I can't get the button to work right this second)
and http://5minutesjustforme.blogspot.com (which I also can't get button to work on)
...and, Clairee and Wendy, this one is for y'all....
Linking Up With: http://thevintageapple.com/ (although I can't get the button to work right this second)
shut.up.
y'all!
I got posted! As in, on another blog!
http://www.dear18me.com/2011/09/21/we-were-merely-freshmen/
Check it out! (and all the other great letters to selves of the past and get brave and submit yours too!!)
(Dear 18 is sponsored by Kevin, husband of one of my must reads, So Every Day, that's how I got involved!)
I got posted! As in, on another blog!
http://www.dear18me.com/2011/09/21/we-were-merely-freshmen/
Check it out! (and all the other great letters to selves of the past and get brave and submit yours too!!)
(Dear 18 is sponsored by Kevin, husband of one of my must reads, So Every Day, that's how I got involved!)
Tuesday, September 20
Hometown Favorite
Quite Possibly My Favorite Editorial To Date:
(find it in its original context: http://www.gainesvilletimes.com/section/99/article/56085/)
Sunday was my mother’s birthday.
There is a law that prohibits me from divulging her age. That law is murder. If I put her age in the newspaper, she’ll kill me.
Nonetheless, I wanted to do something to mark her special day. I thought about writing about what a great mother she was and about the great childhood I had growing up in small-town Georgia. Because all of that is true.
But the more I thought it, the more I realized that she did some things that showed no apparent concern for my health and well-being.
For instance, I never fastened my seat belt until after I graduated from college, long after I had left my mother’s home.
In fact, my mother allowed my brother and me to climb all over the back seat, lie in the back window and stretch out on the back seat to take a nap. I can remember riding in the backseat of my grandmother’s Buick that had a hole in the floorboard, and no one gave any thought to ever buckling us in.
Likewise, she never made us wear helmets or pads when we rode our bicycles. And she never seemed to care if we rode them right down the middle of our street.
My brother and I often went with my mother when she went to the Piggly Wiggly to buy groceries. Most of the time, she’d let us come inside. But other times, apparently because she didn’t want the inevitable fight that comes when you take a child down the cereal aisle, she wouldn’t let us come inside.
“Y’all stay in the car,” she said. “I’ll be right back. Do not get out of this car.”
She didn’t leave the engine running so we could use the air conditioning on a hot South Georgia afternoon, but she was kind enough to roll the windows down for us.
I was reminded recently of another thing my mother made us do. I was at a friend’s house while they were doing some yard work. Their five-year-old picked up the water hose and took a sip of water.
“Don’t do that,” his mother said. “That hose is nasty.”
My mother apparently didn’t care if the hose was nasty or not. We drank out of the hose all the time. In fact, I don’t think I ever drank water any other way when I was a child. We didn’t drink bottled water because there was no such thing as bottled water.
We drank Coca-Cola and sweet tea in the house. But when we got hot outside from playing baseball or building forts, she let us drink water straight out of the water hose. I’m fortunate I never caught the plague.
I ate whatever she fixed for dinner. Sometimes, in a fit of generosity, she’d ask us what we wanted. But if she didn’t and she got a hankering to fix Brussels sprouts, then that’s what we ate, without any regard to the damage it could be doing to our young digestive systems.
On the rare occasion, if we had misbehaved badly enough, we’d be sent to bed without dinner. My mother didn’t use anti-bacterial anything to clean up, but she used Ivory soap on my mouth a time or two.
If I got in trouble at school or at a friend’s house, I got in trouble at home. There were no questions asked. The teachers or the other mothers had complete authority to discipline me. So much for due process of law.
It wasn’t just my mother who did these things. My friend Andy’s mother was the same way. So were Mrs. Janet and Mrs. Val and Mrs. Ellen. All of the neighborhood kids had these mothers who did these diabolical things to us.
I don’t want to dwell too much on the negative, though. After all, it was my mother’s birthday, and I wanted her to have fun and to celebrate her milestone.
But let’s face it, it’s a miracle we survived.
Mitch Clarke is executive editor of The Times. His column appears Sundays. Read previous columns at gainesvilletimes.com/mitch. Follow him on Twitter @MitchTimes.
(find it in its original context: http://www.gainesvilletimes.com/section/99/article/56085/)
Sunday was my mother’s birthday.
There is a law that prohibits me from divulging her age. That law is murder. If I put her age in the newspaper, she’ll kill me.
Nonetheless, I wanted to do something to mark her special day. I thought about writing about what a great mother she was and about the great childhood I had growing up in small-town Georgia. Because all of that is true.
But the more I thought it, the more I realized that she did some things that showed no apparent concern for my health and well-being.
For instance, I never fastened my seat belt until after I graduated from college, long after I had left my mother’s home.
In fact, my mother allowed my brother and me to climb all over the back seat, lie in the back window and stretch out on the back seat to take a nap. I can remember riding in the backseat of my grandmother’s Buick that had a hole in the floorboard, and no one gave any thought to ever buckling us in.
Likewise, she never made us wear helmets or pads when we rode our bicycles. And she never seemed to care if we rode them right down the middle of our street.
My brother and I often went with my mother when she went to the Piggly Wiggly to buy groceries. Most of the time, she’d let us come inside. But other times, apparently because she didn’t want the inevitable fight that comes when you take a child down the cereal aisle, she wouldn’t let us come inside.
“Y’all stay in the car,” she said. “I’ll be right back. Do not get out of this car.”
She didn’t leave the engine running so we could use the air conditioning on a hot South Georgia afternoon, but she was kind enough to roll the windows down for us.
I was reminded recently of another thing my mother made us do. I was at a friend’s house while they were doing some yard work. Their five-year-old picked up the water hose and took a sip of water.
“Don’t do that,” his mother said. “That hose is nasty.”
My mother apparently didn’t care if the hose was nasty or not. We drank out of the hose all the time. In fact, I don’t think I ever drank water any other way when I was a child. We didn’t drink bottled water because there was no such thing as bottled water.
We drank Coca-Cola and sweet tea in the house. But when we got hot outside from playing baseball or building forts, she let us drink water straight out of the water hose. I’m fortunate I never caught the plague.
I ate whatever she fixed for dinner. Sometimes, in a fit of generosity, she’d ask us what we wanted. But if she didn’t and she got a hankering to fix Brussels sprouts, then that’s what we ate, without any regard to the damage it could be doing to our young digestive systems.
On the rare occasion, if we had misbehaved badly enough, we’d be sent to bed without dinner. My mother didn’t use anti-bacterial anything to clean up, but she used Ivory soap on my mouth a time or two.
If I got in trouble at school or at a friend’s house, I got in trouble at home. There were no questions asked. The teachers or the other mothers had complete authority to discipline me. So much for due process of law.
It wasn’t just my mother who did these things. My friend Andy’s mother was the same way. So were Mrs. Janet and Mrs. Val and Mrs. Ellen. All of the neighborhood kids had these mothers who did these diabolical things to us.
I don’t want to dwell too much on the negative, though. After all, it was my mother’s birthday, and I wanted her to have fun and to celebrate her milestone.
But let’s face it, it’s a miracle we survived.
Mitch Clarke is executive editor of The Times. His column appears Sundays. Read previous columns at gainesvilletimes.com/mitch. Follow him on Twitter @MitchTimes.
Sunday, September 18
No, I don't think its to much to ask
Dear Esteemed Grocery Bagger,
I know, I know. There are 5 million cooler places you could be other than the end of the checkout line. I'm sure no one has dashed your dreams of having lots of money without having to put any work into it...I'm sure you're dreaming of being a basketball star, or celebrity musician, or really, anything that would get you out of your coordinated polo and khaki pants. That I can understand.
However, I can NOT understand how despite the fact that I have placed my items in the order/groupings that I'd like them to be bagged, therefore making YOUR job require even less thought, that you continually failed to see that is what I'm attempting to have accomplished. Beleive it or not, people prefer that all their cold stuff be in the bag together. They also appreciate it, if that one random heavy bottled item (be it pickles or salsa or whatever) not end up in the same bag as the squishy chips. And speaking of chips, give them some respect. Shoving them into the bag only crushes the chips and my dreams of opening a bag that is more whole chips than slivers. And while I know you find it hard to believe that all that stuff came from one buggy, I'd appreciate it if you'd refrain from stacking bags on top of each other. I'm not the best at spacial rationings, but even I can tell that you don't put the bag of potato chips on the bottom. And, here's an idea, how about actually USING the under cart rack for those heavy items. Now, there's a back breaker!
So, please, for the love of my grocery sanity, either get out of the way and let me bag my own, or honor my system!
Sincerely,
Yours Truly
I know, I know. There are 5 million cooler places you could be other than the end of the checkout line. I'm sure no one has dashed your dreams of having lots of money without having to put any work into it...I'm sure you're dreaming of being a basketball star, or celebrity musician, or really, anything that would get you out of your coordinated polo and khaki pants. That I can understand.
However, I can NOT understand how despite the fact that I have placed my items in the order/groupings that I'd like them to be bagged, therefore making YOUR job require even less thought, that you continually failed to see that is what I'm attempting to have accomplished. Beleive it or not, people prefer that all their cold stuff be in the bag together. They also appreciate it, if that one random heavy bottled item (be it pickles or salsa or whatever) not end up in the same bag as the squishy chips. And speaking of chips, give them some respect. Shoving them into the bag only crushes the chips and my dreams of opening a bag that is more whole chips than slivers. And while I know you find it hard to believe that all that stuff came from one buggy, I'd appreciate it if you'd refrain from stacking bags on top of each other. I'm not the best at spacial rationings, but even I can tell that you don't put the bag of potato chips on the bottom. And, here's an idea, how about actually USING the under cart rack for those heavy items. Now, there's a back breaker!
So, please, for the love of my grocery sanity, either get out of the way and let me bag my own, or honor my system!
Sincerely,
Yours Truly
birthday party...success!
y'all... It may not be a big deal to you, but I got this shot... inside, no flash, complete manual settings, no editing other than a small crop.
Hallelujah! I may just be getting this manual thing figured out!
And Happy Birthday Milliee!
Saturday, September 17
It's Game Day!
Gooooooo Dawgs!
Sic 'em
wooof woof woof
(and y'all just keep pretending that there is nothing but a clean house behind those babies!)
Wednesday, September 14
ahem, you. are. dead.
Dear 3-letter named pharmacy that used to have my allegience,
Today, you are dead to me. Possibly for forever.
Yesterday, I went to pick up my script. Like normal. Except, you, dear pharmacy, had refilled the wrong one. So you asked me to come back. So I politely agreed.
I came back. You, dear pharmacy, proceed to tell me that my script has expired. Despite the fact that it was just written in July and only been filled one time. And that it will be tomorrow.
Well, I'm sorry dear pharmacy, but if I could wait until tomorrow I wouldn't be here today.
So today I sent Mikie. Because he was being a good sport. Until, dear pharmacy, you proceed to tell him that the script hasn't been referred back from the doctor. To whom I call, who says you haven't sent anything. To whom then calls back, and says they have. Reconfirms that they are sending now.
So, dear pharmacy, I call you again. Second phone call, third visit in, different employee each and every time. To which you tell me, again, that its not there...until, "oh look, it just came in"
So what do I ask dear pharmacy? Can I get my script today?
Oh, it'll take about 30 minutes.
How convienent. Since neither of us can be in thirty minutes without rearranging the whole day.
Pharmacy, you are dead to me.
(and yes, I realize that I could avoid some of this headache by not waiting until the day needed to pick up refills, but that is not as important as my compliants at this time)
Today, you are dead to me. Possibly for forever.
Yesterday, I went to pick up my script. Like normal. Except, you, dear pharmacy, had refilled the wrong one. So you asked me to come back. So I politely agreed.
I came back. You, dear pharmacy, proceed to tell me that my script has expired. Despite the fact that it was just written in July and only been filled one time. And that it will be tomorrow.
Well, I'm sorry dear pharmacy, but if I could wait until tomorrow I wouldn't be here today.
So today I sent Mikie. Because he was being a good sport. Until, dear pharmacy, you proceed to tell him that the script hasn't been referred back from the doctor. To whom I call, who says you haven't sent anything. To whom then calls back, and says they have. Reconfirms that they are sending now.
So, dear pharmacy, I call you again. Second phone call, third visit in, different employee each and every time. To which you tell me, again, that its not there...until, "oh look, it just came in"
So what do I ask dear pharmacy? Can I get my script today?
Oh, it'll take about 30 minutes.
How convienent. Since neither of us can be in thirty minutes without rearranging the whole day.
Pharmacy, you are dead to me.
(and yes, I realize that I could avoid some of this headache by not waiting until the day needed to pick up refills, but that is not as important as my compliants at this time)
Pinned: Punkins!
It's getting closer to a semblance of semi-cool here in South Georgia... here's what I'd love to see at my house this fall...
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and my absolute favorite
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Linked with:
and
Paw Prints & Pastry Bags
and
and my absolute favorite
Linked with:
and
Paw Prints & Pastry Bags
and
the year I flunked cheerleading tryouts
Ok, so in South Georgia, the sooner you fall in love with football, the better.
The earliest you could start playing football (or cheering for football) was 3rd grade & 4th grade (B-team) and 5th & 6th grade (A-team). However, every summer was a cheerleading camp starting at age 4 and up...So we geared up and got to cheering...
Old enough to make the cut
wait...this one is not like the others.
ok, so, I decided being a watergirl was a much better option than cheering one year. I mean, you got your own jersey for crying out loud. And, back then, the boys would give their jerseys away on Friday to their "girl friends" and so if you didn't have a boyfriend to get on, this ENSURED that you had one. Also, you got to be on the sidelines. And run through the run through sign. And I may or may not have purposely not really put a lot of effort into my cheerleading tryouts so I could get a jersey.
Good thing its too late for Mama to punish me for that now! : )
Tuesday, September 13
Tuesday's Truths: A List
1. Evidently, when children turn three-ish....they are gifted with an uncanny ability to alter their breathing patterns to reflect the following: breathe in, breath out, "Mama", breath in, breath out "Mommy", breath in, breath out, "Mom" and rinse lather and repeat every 2.2 seconds.
2. Nothing is cuter than a 1 year old, butt naked in the tub, dancing to silly songs (especially when said 1 year old will not sit in the tub but insists on standing and will only reach down to pick up some bubbles, scrub her tummy, and keep standing)
3. Trying to figure out if a child is faking hurt/sick or is really hurt/sick when the initial doctors visit showed no abnormalities is absolutely zero fun. Especially when you are 7 days in and still not sure.
4. If you pick out a cute outfit for picture day, it will tickle, or not fit right and you will have about 2.5 seconds to come up with a backup plan or either be late on picture day.
5. A boy child will persistently find the items not approved for play and focus entirely on them for the duration of their free reign.
and that's my quick bites for tonight.
2. Nothing is cuter than a 1 year old, butt naked in the tub, dancing to silly songs (especially when said 1 year old will not sit in the tub but insists on standing and will only reach down to pick up some bubbles, scrub her tummy, and keep standing)
3. Trying to figure out if a child is faking hurt/sick or is really hurt/sick when the initial doctors visit showed no abnormalities is absolutely zero fun. Especially when you are 7 days in and still not sure.
4. If you pick out a cute outfit for picture day, it will tickle, or not fit right and you will have about 2.5 seconds to come up with a backup plan or either be late on picture day.
5. A boy child will persistently find the items not approved for play and focus entirely on them for the duration of their free reign.
and that's my quick bites for tonight.
Slacker
Ugh, I am living in blogger funk. It's awful. I can not seem to get my thoughts together on anything worth putting down in permanent history.
So, instead, here are 15 little known facts (or odd little facts) about me:
1. I don't eat chocolate. Except for Chips Ahoy (original, blue bag). Which I eat every day (basically, and for as long as I can remember) for breakfast.
2. I've never given blood. (something about the blood thing completely freaks me out, and I really don't want to faint, so I haven't gotten my courage up yet)
3. The longest I "dated" anyone before Mikie...3 months... and I use the term "dated" loosely, as in, I'd rather not go back and relive those 3 month loses of my life.
4. Both of my girls have double birthdays...meaning, either the date and the year are the same, or the month and the year, or maybe its the month and the date...some combination of the two.
5. I used to be pretty well fluent in ASL. I am sad that I haven't kept up my practice and am now, really, really bad at ASL.
6. My 3 year old still wears 18 month clothes.
7. I have the exact same initials as my husband.
8. I've taken more than 21,000 pictures since I got my Canon Rebel xTi in 2008. So many that we now require an external hardrive to host them all.
9. I was the only person on my hall in college that lived south of Macon. And when I say south of Macon, I mean...WAAAYYY south of Macon.
10. I get way into sports...but I'm not disrespectful. You will not find me badmouthing my own coach or team, regardless of how the season plays out. And unless the other team or coach is playing dirty, I won't say much bad about them. What I'll say this year, we've been outplayed. When that happens, you lose. So we lost. BUT, always.... GOOOOO DDDAAAAWWWWWGGGGGSSSS!!! Sic 'em! (which, by the way, both of my children can do for you on command)
11. I have Pinterest planned 3 birthday parties for my nephew, who isn't even 1 yet. And only one of those parties came from a theme suggested by his own mother.
12. I have an uncanny attachment to placemats and cute kitchen stuff that I will never, ever, ever use enough to vouch for.
13. My fine china I received at my wedding almost 5 years ago, still has stickers on the bottom from the store...it has never even been washed.
14. I got my last spanking when I was almost 12 because I was reading under the covers after bed time (such a trouble maker I was! ha!)
15. My nickname was Cottontop when I was little... if you see Hayley girl's hair, you'll understand why, because mine was the same way!
So, instead, here are 15 little known facts (or odd little facts) about me:
1. I don't eat chocolate. Except for Chips Ahoy (original, blue bag). Which I eat every day (basically, and for as long as I can remember) for breakfast.
2. I've never given blood. (something about the blood thing completely freaks me out, and I really don't want to faint, so I haven't gotten my courage up yet)
3. The longest I "dated" anyone before Mikie...3 months... and I use the term "dated" loosely, as in, I'd rather not go back and relive those 3 month loses of my life.
4. Both of my girls have double birthdays...meaning, either the date and the year are the same, or the month and the year, or maybe its the month and the date...some combination of the two.
5. I used to be pretty well fluent in ASL. I am sad that I haven't kept up my practice and am now, really, really bad at ASL.
6. My 3 year old still wears 18 month clothes.
7. I have the exact same initials as my husband.
8. I've taken more than 21,000 pictures since I got my Canon Rebel xTi in 2008. So many that we now require an external hardrive to host them all.
9. I was the only person on my hall in college that lived south of Macon. And when I say south of Macon, I mean...WAAAYYY south of Macon.
10. I get way into sports...but I'm not disrespectful. You will not find me badmouthing my own coach or team, regardless of how the season plays out. And unless the other team or coach is playing dirty, I won't say much bad about them. What I'll say this year, we've been outplayed. When that happens, you lose. So we lost. BUT, always.... GOOOOO DDDAAAAWWWWWGGGGGSSSS!!! Sic 'em! (which, by the way, both of my children can do for you on command)
11. I have Pinterest planned 3 birthday parties for my nephew, who isn't even 1 yet. And only one of those parties came from a theme suggested by his own mother.
12. I have an uncanny attachment to placemats and cute kitchen stuff that I will never, ever, ever use enough to vouch for.
13. My fine china I received at my wedding almost 5 years ago, still has stickers on the bottom from the store...it has never even been washed.
14. I got my last spanking when I was almost 12 because I was reading under the covers after bed time (such a trouble maker I was! ha!)
15. My nickname was Cottontop when I was little... if you see Hayley girl's hair, you'll understand why, because mine was the same way!
Sunday, September 11
Thursday, September 8
Tattled
Here's what Hayley has let slip about K3 this week...
"Do you want me to call your mama? If you're bad, the principal comes to spank your hiney!"
"We have dry clothes in bags. In case we tee tee in them. But I not tee tee in my pants. But _________ tee tees in her pants every day. And she not have no more pants."
"alma...matta.... southwest ...georgia....academenia..."
After dance (she didn't finish class because her "tummy was hurtin'")
me: give me your dance clothes so I can wash them.
her: but I didn't dance good in them!
"Do you want me to call your mama? If you're bad, the principal comes to spank your hiney!"
"We have dry clothes in bags. In case we tee tee in them. But I not tee tee in my pants. But _________ tee tees in her pants every day. And she not have no more pants."
"alma...matta.... southwest ...georgia....academenia..."
After dance (she didn't finish class because her "tummy was hurtin'")
me: give me your dance clothes so I can wash them.
her: but I didn't dance good in them!
Wednesday, September 7
Pinned: Cupcakes
These delightful little creations will never come from my kitchen, but I think they all bring something to the table!
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Linked With: http://www.thevintageapple.com/
Linked With: http://www.thevintageapple.com/
Splish, Splash
So, I'm definitely a child of the '90s... this week is one of the definitive weeks of 90s fashion.
And, for some reason, my mother's need to document all my bathing suit choices
(these are not in order, obviously)
pot belly trucker baby on the beach
Chillin'
Friday, September 2
interface
hmmm... can't make up my mind whether I like this interface or not...its so super clean that it makes me wonder if I'm missing something... but I really think its just because its not a navy background...any who, there's 10 seconds in the brain. You're welcome.
The easy way out...Link Up!
Linking up with: http://fivecrookedhalos.blogspot.com/
1. Shoes in the house - yay or nay? Not really. I take my shoes off almost as soon as I come in the house, however, Michael wears his for longer periods of time. Our girls are little enough that their shoes are usually off in the car before we ever even get inside. But its hot outside, so most of the time, right off they come.
2. What do you call them- flip flops, slippers, thongs, etc? Flip flops or plip plops according to our 3-year-old..or zooes according to our 1 year old. Thongs are underwear, yes I went there.
3. What song are you almost embarrassed to admit you know all the lyrics to?
There are too many to count...but I'd say most surprising genre... early 2000s rap...hey, what can I say? I thought I was cool driving my '86 Cutlas Supreme (no, I'm not joking, I drove a Box Chevy!)
4. What is the best quality to have in a friend? realness. The look you in the face and say "that's a lie" "don't believe that" or "I think you can do more"
5. Do you know what you want for Christmas? yes, for the first time, yes! I am horrible, horrible, horrible at having a list for birthdays or Christmas...it seems my favorite time to find "wants" is between those events, so this time (FINALLY!) I started a list on my computer....which includes: reflector disc, camera strap cover, and... some other things that I can't remember right now...which is obviously why I its a good thing that I started a list.
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