Super Bon Bon

Growing up, I was extremely fortunate to be constantly surrounded by a friend(s). My first best friend in all the land was one of my grandparents neighbors boys, John, or as I referred to him, JJ. For those who know me to the highest extent, it would not surprise you find out that my very first close friend was a boy. I've got that tom boy in me that rears its crazy head every once in awhile, and that is much in part due to JJ. Because see we never played barbies, or dress up, or did water ballet performances in the pool. We were racing around in big wheels, climbing trees, killing bugs and smearing them on things. We did cannon ball competitions into the pool and told scary stories under the big tree between the two houses. It was grand. When Mom Mom would call me in for the night, I would race into the house into the perfume scented bubble bath and beg to get my nails painted and my hair put in braids so it would be kinky the next day, loving the best of both worlds. I would wake up in the morning to race out to find JJ where he would tease me about my kinky hair and lead me to a swampy area to catch toads. I have written before about the day I raced out with kinky hair to have him compliment me instead of tease. What a devastating day for me, no seriously, it was. This was JJ, and some pre pubescent monster had taken over him and I was so angry.

But enough about my lessons in love, for another time, this a completely different post. Gotcha, didn't I? But you will see my life lesson in this, close friends are to be like JJ, they enhance a side of you that needs polishing, that needs to be shared with the world. Had I not been friends with JJ I never would have never seen the inside of a little boy's head and been able to relate to mine as well. I would have never been able to encourage the side of Kendall that is tom boyish. I love that she includes boy's names in her list of close friends at school.

I love that all the little nuggets are developing friendship and little personalities of who they are when they are with their buddies. I loved who I was with my friends. Growing up without my tight circle of girlfriends, I would have never made it through those crazy hormonal teenage girl years. It was always so handy to have someone to talk on the phone with all.night.long, despite my parents annoyance. I always remember telling them that they to can come out of the dark ages and get call waiting if they had a problem with it, I can't help it if people need to talk to me that I just left and will see the next day. It's mandatory, I am in school to learn, not socialize, remember conferences?

As we go into the holiday season, as I said, I would go through and list my silly little favorite things I have sprinkled all over my house, it is kosher to share what you are thankful for. I'm down with that. And if you are my dear friend, consider yourself warned, I am coming after you.

I socialize with many. Hey, if you are going to talk, you better believe I am right there along with you. I am pretty blunt. I kind of tell it like it is. I do. It's a compliment and a detriment. I would like to say I am friendly. I think even more so now that I have kids. Listen, if you have got someone walking around with a little present in their pants stinking up a room, you really have no room to be withdrawn, snotty, so on and so forth. But I am not that personal with the entire world. For me to bear my soul to you, we've got to be tight, and I like it like that. As I think through my little list of tight friends, there are those that I see on a consistent basis, there are those that are family, because your very best of friends can be in your family, and there are those that I see randomly because of distance and life happening, but because of history, I would have no problem picking up and going on and instantly feeling that bond with, and that is awesome to me.

So with that in mind. Over the course of the holidays, I will randomly victimize one of these friends and put them right up here on my blog for all to read about. Good times. Just keep in mind, I said I was thankful for you...that should mean something, really it should...gosh, be appreciative...sometimes you are just so selfish. (and that's ok, sometimes I am too, that's why we are friends.)

On with it. My friend Bonnie is the littlest thing you will ever see. She reminds me of Tinkerbell. No, she could get all in a little Tinkerbell outfit and fly down off the balcony in her house into her living room and sprinkle pixie dust,and I just might question if she is the real thing. And if you don't like it, that's fine. Maybe her husband Kevin would. I'm just sayin.

I would like to start off with a story about Bonnie, and you too would instantly want to be her friend. I will try and make it as brief as possible, because when she tells it, it is like sitting around a campfire telling stories kind of story. Sorry, Bon.

Ok. So Bonnie is invited to two showers on back to back weekends, two different places, two different women, two different days. You already know where this is going? You clever sleuth. Well it is just that, and it is hilarious.

So the morning of the first shower she is to go to she is buzzing around getting ready. Her kids are leeching themselves on to her as children tend to do when you are on a schedule and about to leave them. Her husband is outside doing yard work, because that is how they roll. I think that they think just because we are getting ready to enjoy ourselves, that taking care of the children should happen as usual. That, 'hey listen, you are going out for the day to have all this fun and leaving me with these monsters, that is just too bad that you have snot on your little black dress, this is your penance, I have yard work to do before I have to be all eyes on the kids'...well also on the football games on tv. So rough. But I do love them.

So she is going at hyper speed, leaves the chaos, arrives at the shower. So she looks around, doesn't see anyone she really knows, but figures she isn't really that close to the chick, and she certainly wouldn't know all of her family, so she puts her gift on the table and heads to find a seat. On the way, she goes through the food line, makes small talk, grabs a glass of wine, and then sits down. She finds herself sitting next to a woman with a terrible grudge against her husband, yes Bonnie's husband, Kevin, whom she doesn't even know. In the end, the assumption can be made, that this woman indeed detests the male gender as a whole. While making small talk, Bonnie shares how hectic her morning was trying to get ready and trying to appease her children at the same time. And this woman just blurts out with sheer resentment in her voice, 'well where was your husband?' Bonnie goes on to tell the woman that he was doing yard work and this woman continues on to dig on Kevin, 'well he should have been helping you with the children.' Obviously stating to obvious. But in typical fashion, Bonnie defends Kevin. Because that is what we do. We might think and have most likely said the exact same thing, but it all becomes irrelevant when someone who has no business saying it, says it. Isn't that funny how we work? Bonnie then retorts, 'well it's saturday, he has to get this work done outside, this is a day off for him to, and he is outside slaving away, it's only boogies on a black dress, so what, it comes off.'

So after getting all rawled up, she sips on her wine, and the woman changes the subject onto the bride to be. I do not remember what the bride's real name was that Bonnie was showering on that day, but let's say it was Emily. The resentful woman says something about the bride, like, 'Oh have you heard about the color of the bridesmaid dresses that Suzie picked out?' And Bonnie blurts out, 'Who's Suzie?' The woman looks at her like she has 17 heads and is wearing a pink tutu and replies, 'Uh, the bride.' And it hits Bonnie all at once. She doesn't know or recognize anyone in the room, the shower is clearly underway, and she has no idea who Suzie is. Where is Emily?

So she gets up, laughs in the woman's face thinking thank goodness no one she knows is associated with a husband basher like this, and says, 'I am at the wrong shower.' She walks away, picks up her present from the table, exits the building, and promptly calls her husband to find out just where she is supposed to be.

Seriously? Seriously.

In Bonnie's defense, she was invited to a shower at this facility, however, it was the following week, for the other girl. And, that is the only defense I have.

Goodness. I love this woman. And that isn't the only story like this one. It sure isn't. I just bared witness to my first Bonnie Moment at few weeks ago, and it was great. Another time people, or read it in my book.

I just met Bonnie this past spring at church. Really. I was big and pregnant, and she waltzed right into my life with her cute little family. It was a perfect set up and love at first sight. Bonnie's husband, Kevin, the offending yard working husband, is just like my beloved in so many ways, and in fact as I get to know more and more about him, similar to my personality as well. But when I think about it, Andy and I have very similar personalities. So, I probably would be just as anal as Kevin. (just kidding, slightly, Kev)

But also, Bonnie has a little lady, Emma who is 7, who my daughter Kendall enamores in every way, because girls that are bigger than Kendall are her sun and moon. She also has a little man Ryan, who is 3. This little man and my little man E, are also a match made in heaven. No lie. They are the best of friends. Their personalities are so similar that it is somewhat head turning. All E talks about it is Ry. When we are at the store, 'Mommy, can we get this for Ry? He would just love it, let's get this for Ry for christmas alright?' When he is playing, 'Ry does this with this guy mommy, make him jump off the chair like that, like Ry does.' When he is going to sleep. He has a picture of him and Ryan in his room, and sometimes I catch him just looking at it and smiling. Having a best friend is awesome, having one at 3, is just the best. I hope they are still the best of friends at 40, what a great pair they will be. Then she has little Ellie, my little Stay Puff. Ellie is just about 16 months, right? I think so. She is 9 months older than Jake. Our youngest, Ellie & Jake, have it great. They are betrothed in marriage to each other. It has been arranged by Bonnie and I.

And then you fold us all up into a neat little box and put us on the 'perfectly perfect cute shelf.' Because aren't we just all perfect for each other? So cute.

Really though. I could go on about Bonnie all day. Bonnie is resilient. She has a heart as big as I have seen. She thinks of others consistently before herself. Bonnie is also an open book when you get close to her, which immediately bonded me to her. If you can say anything to another person and know that they will never think negatively twice about something you have said or judge you at all, you are my dear friend. Bonnie is like this. She loves deep. She will compliment something about you on your worst of days.

Bonnie knows how to have fun, and is always up for celebrating something. 'It's cold out! Let's have a party.' Really, she would.

I also love the feeling you get when you walk into someone's house and you know that you are welcome and a part of their home. You are comfortable with them, their space, their kids, and their lives. I immediately get this when I go into Bonnie's home. Beyond loving every square inch of her self-entitled dream house, I am instantly comfortable there, and so are my kids. We enter through the door and scatter, each to our friend, our spot.

Her extended family is much like mine also, and I am certain that this is also why we get along so well. If you are surrounded by similar surroundings and personalities, the ability to feel comfortable, happens so much faster.

I love Bonnie's randomness, her giving nature, her innocence, and devotion. She is devoted to her husband, her kids, her family, her friends, and her God.

For all of this...even though you are 4 years older than me...I am thankful Bonnie, to call you a dear and close friend.

Bonnie & her hubby Kevin...Tink, right? Squint, and tilt your head to the right...yup, see it?

Favorite Things

Listen, I ain't given you a cruise on some giant ark that has an ice skating rink in it, but seriously? Did you watch yesterday's Oprah? I watch this episode almost every year. I sit there and steam. 'Why am I not in this audience?' Seriously. Somebody better write into Oprah and tell her that I am obsessed with her favorite things give away, and that I am the greatest person you ever freakin met, and you think I deserve everything she is giving away.

I sit there and calculate in my head, and yes, it hurts, (haha real funny), the value of the things, and how much everyone in the audience receives money wise and it is literally insane, that Oprah, she don't mess around. And her favorite things? Well really they are favorite things. I want to be on Oprah's christmas list. She is the Santa for my age group no lie.

These people in the audience they freak out over everything they are getting. And why not? I would too. They were freaking out about macaroni and cheese. I kid you not. She gave away this diamond watch that I probably would have screamed about also, but they gave the same reaction to the mac and cheese. The people I was watching it with were like, 'why are they freaking out about mac and cheese?' Let me tell you why. Because at that point the audience is in such a state of shock, that if she said, 'and these are my favorite trash bags,' they would have lost it. Because she wouldn't have given you one box of trash bags, she would have given you like enough trash bags to last you 20 years. Trash bags cost a bit of money. The makers of them get away with charging like 7 bucks a box because you cannot not have trash bags, unless of course you are really strange.

So, I can completely relate to this audience. I too would have been screaming for the entire hour or so it took for them to do this episode. I would have not had a voice for 3 months, the people in this house might sign me up just for that reason alone. 'Dear Oprah, My Wife talks incessantly about the most random things, please have her on your Favorite Things episode so that she loses her voice, and I don't have to listen to the nonsense for 3 months.' Seriously, it would benefit everyone across the board.

She has paramedics on site during the taping of the show, she showed them yesterday. I believe it. If you scream for that long, that loud, and cannot catch your breath, you very well may need a medic. I want to know if she also provided some depends for the ladies, because I definitely would have peed myself. I mean three kids later, this bladder doesn't have super power strength anymore, and if overly excited, I may piddle. And don't care if you think that is too much information. Ask any woman who has carried more than one child in their uterus, you piddle sometimes. Usually not for no good reason, but perhaps like a really aggressive sneeze. It's ok, I am here to also educate. Think before you impregnate fellas, we aren't the same after the war. ( I am sure next time you see me, you will be all, 'she's pees her pants, eww.', and for the record piddle and peeing are two totally different things)

She had another episode airing on Monday, because well one day just isn't enough for Oprah's farewell season. So it is another audience another entire list of favorite things. And by the way, Nike gave away sneakers for everyone in the audience's immediate family. By some miracle, everyone in my family would be a woman's size 8.5. Don't think I wouldn't have shared the wealth, because I would have, I would have had you over for some mac and cheese and a movie. Because, oh, she also gave away the 3-D flatscreen tv, where we can watch 3-D movies as well as our regular blu rays if we choose, because she gave away one of those too. And don't worry about movies to watch, she also gave away 5 years of streaming Netflix to each person.

Santa, for grown women. Believe me now?

People get on Oprah. They get all upset because people follow what she says. Listen, she does have some food for thought sometimes for me, but like I don't listen to the Dali Lama, he's a pretty cute little old man, and he really has some peaceful thoughts and ideas, I don't listen to everything Oprah has to say, and I think she would think it a little creepy if I did. I'm just sayin'. Sometimes I need to defend Oprah. She is just a woman who got really fortunate. All women have things to say, you don't have to listen to us, although it would be wise sometimes to tune into our station. It's just silly to say that she thinks she is God. Sure she has money, she knows how to have fun, she talks about what people want to talk about, and at the end of the day she sits at home with Stedman and her dogs happy because she made others happy. So let her be happy. She isn't going to run for president. Her only fault is that she caused some serious envy yesterday. I just sat there, and was like, 'oh, I would just love that.' And, 'that's it, it's the last season, I will never be on Oprah's Favorite Things.' And for a second I felt bad for myself, like I really ever had a chance, there was no chance in 25 years, but there is always that glimmer of hope. Pathetic.

But I am going to point out to you something I thought really awesome. I mean she gave away a cruise on the biggest cruise ship in the world, but I think this is better, well, ok, maybe not, but it is pretty cool...



You see that? I am an edge person of the brownie. I love the chewy and the soft that this piece provides me with. This pan? You see that with the brownie in it? That pan gives you all edge pieces. Right next to it is the same idea, but a lasagna pan. You know how hard it is to cut lasagna if it isn't an end piece right? You need leverage to press upon to get out a nice square piece that isn't sliding all over, and there it is. The noodles are a perfect fit, genius I tell you, some people are just gifted. Unreal. I'll say it again, it's the simple things.

Man, I'm gonna miss her.

So with that in mind, I started thinking, well if I had a show what would I pick as my favorite things that I have? I am certainly not going to give them away to you, you have got to be crazy. Not only that, some of these things are one of a kind. Picked up at flea markets, yard sales, and bazaars, finding duplicates would be nearly impossible. Things that once belonged to others...envious yet? Some other things are things that I just have and love to pieces, and if I could, if you liked it enough, I would also get it for you, but I am not Oprah. Too bad, so sad. So this week, leading up to the holiday season, I will of course tell you thing that I am grateful for, but I will also try to daily show you something that is one of my favorite things that I have got in my palace, and not ever for the right price, would I give them away.It would also be really great if I had that camera she gave away to take really awesome pictures with, but you know, the one I have is just fine, thanks for nothing, O.

So here is the first thing....


My little display shelfy thing. It has no formal name as you can plainly see. However, what it is is a box that I hung on the wall to display seasonal knick knacks if you will, a photo, or something, and some things just to make someone smile who looks at it. Now that Kendall is in school we get some lovely crafts to display.I love decorating for holidays and seasons, as you very well know, and so deciding what goes in here seriously makes my obsessiveness so happy.

My grandfather made it out of old barn would he had and years ago put a bunch of them together to give to people in the family. He backed it with a piece of burlap, I tore that off so that you could see the wall and I could hang things from it, and also so I could make it look a little less country. Because, I know there are those out there that really like the country look, and don't get me wrong, I think it is cute in your house because it fits you. Country does not fit me, it just doesn't.

So here it is gussied up for Thanksgiving. You could probably also make one of these. It might not look as rustic, but you could easily beat it up with a hammer and stuff and then stain it I guess.

I got it because my great aunt was selling it at her yard sale. I marched right up to it and said, 'How much for the shelfy thing?' She said, 'well technically it is yours, your Pop Pop made it, so free.' Sold! I promptly ripped off the burlap because maybe she could get a quarter for that, who knows.

And she gave away a $1000 gift certificate for closet organizers from the Container Store...whatever, this shelf is way better.

Teething...slowly taking away sanity.

You may think this child is super cute. You may even think how in the world could anyone ever have any trouble with a child just this adorable. Look at him. He is covered in food and he is just so happy.


I am over here emphatically raising my hand. Pick Me! Pick Me!


It's not him, it's the teeth. They are of the devil. I mean I get it. He would look crazy born with a full set of teeth and ridiculous as a toothless 5 year old. But really? It's as if we are surgically attached. Conjoined chins. He is attached to my hip, like he was born out of my side and is just stuck there.


He is presently working on that second bottom one. And why do they say he is working on his teeth? Because if he had a choice he would quit and tell them to come back later. Baby Food is yummy.


He is awnry. You forget these stages, like you forget child birth. He is so agitated that he actually swiped the bowl of food I was feeding him and shook it so it went all over him.


I can't put him down or leave his sight. It makes home management a real trip. My house is a mess.





I would pick him up, but you see my pants are stuck to the chair I am sitting on. It's apple juice, from a spill 4 days ago. It's on the floor too, and you can't very well scrub a floor with a cyst this big on your side.


Looks like it might be naptime.

Tylenol kicked in. SHHH....this will last 10 minutes...because he also has a deuce in his pants. Awesome.

Warning: This Post May Cause Flatulence*

Princess Toot

So if you missed my comment on facebook yesterday, my morning conversation with Kendall went like this...


'Mommy, I am really gassy today.'

'Uh oh'

'Yeah, I can't stop farting, I mean tooting.' (they must not be allowed to say 'fart' at school)

'Do you want to stay home?'

'No Way! If it happens, I will just look around and pretend it wasn't me!'

I just want to ask if you too also wonder where you children learn social nuances like this? I also love the word nuance. I sat there like I was studying some thesis statement or something, when I was really wondering where my child learned that a.) farting was something to be ashamed of, (which I am thankful for no doubt) and b.) that not taking ownership of the fart in certain situations is kosher.


As in typical fashion, I didn't ponder very long, but this time because I had an explanation...her father. Seriously. How many times has this man farted to the point I think he left a hole where he was sitting and has blamed it on the children. And they shriek and holler in delight loving the possibility that their daddy is just that silly that he actually thinks he can convince them he didn't do it! That Daddy, he is hilarious! Not. I tell you this though, if a fart of his magnitude were to come out of their tiny bodies, they literally would explode before our eyes.


And please, don't act like your man does not pass gas. Seriously. And for that matter don't act like you don't either. It's humanly impossible, I don't want to hear it. If you don't like that I am blogging about farting, that is fine too, go pick up your Martha Stewart Autobiography and read away.


Funny Story though. We have these friends, and I am going to keep their names off of this for the record, but let me just tell you about them. They are married, like most of our friends are these days, and let me tell you that they say that they rarely, if ever, farted in front of each other. No lie. The husband cannot stomach it. He cannot stomach farting in front of his wife, and he would definitely lose it if she did. The ironic part is, is that if you knew them, you would in no way think this of them. Not that they look like all they do is sit around and pass gas all day and laugh about it, they just seem like the type that just wouldn't care, you got to fart, you got to fart, it's your home, I am your spouse. But he can't handle it. He doesn't even like her peeing with the bathroom door open. He can't take it if she has to pee and he is in the shower, it is in his presence, he can't function. This is just hilarious to me. Seriously, he would die married to me. Because listen, in the privacy of my own home, with no guests over, well besides like my mom and sisters, I will use the bathroom with the door open if I am in conversation or whatever. The only time I will close the door in the above circumstances is just for sanity reasons. Listen it takes me like 30 seconds to pee, 20 to wash up, so that is close to a minute of me time, I will take what I can get. I don't know, that's just how I grew up. 4 girls in a house, one bathroom, you have to do what you have to do.


So back to my story of our friends, so the wife, my close friend, really only goes along with this because this is her husband, honestly, I think she could care less. So one night they were in an argument in their bed, and he was really annoying her. She either told him to go sleep on the couch, or to leave her alone, or something like that, and he wouldn't. So she said, 'Listen, _____, either you do this or I am going to fart!' And he wouldn't stop, and so she just let it rip. Needless to say, he was so grossed out, he left the room. She won, by farting. That's wonderful. If it were all that simple.


But what I want to know is, and I have never gotten an answer is, what if you really have to pass gas and you are around each other? Do they leave the room? Excuse themselves in mid conversation or mid movie and press pause just to pass gas? Just in front of your spouse? I mean sometimes gas is painful and the only way to relieve it is to just fart. And I am not saying I walk around farting all the time, and encourage my kids to do the same. Really, there is a time and a place. Not sure when that might be, but there is. I teach them it isn't funny, and it is rude, ok? They mind their manners. But they also know that when you have to fart, you have to fart, not at the dinner table of course, and sometimes they slip out, and that we can giggle about that. No' I'm serious, appropriate passage of gas is a life lesson.


And to all you men out there who think that your wives don't talk about you to other wives, and share some pretty private things, I got news for you. You will now look at all of your wives friends and sisters, maybe even moms a little bit different now ,won't you? I mean we know what kind and color of underwear you are wearing. We know about the secret boxes. So start behaving.


Now back to Kendall. I pick her up from school and you know the first thing I am going to ask her. It isn't about the letter of the week or what Rowan brought in for Show & Tell it is:


'So how did the tooting problem go?'

'Alright'

'So it went away?'

'Umm, Nope.'

'Did you have to go poopy during school, did you wipe well, seriously, we practiced this.' (and I'm serious, we did)

'No Mommy, I didn't poop at school.' (and who would want to poop at school? Do you ever remember pooping at school?I think there was like a silent code against this amongst peers)

'So they just didn't smell?'

'Oh yeah, they did. I just pretended it wasn't me, and I looked around and stuff. One time Mary smelled it and she asked me, Kendall did you toot!?!?, and I said, No Mary, that was you!, and Mary was like, No way Kendall that was you, and we went back and forth!' (And she's laughing hysterically about this)

'Oh, well, sounds like you weren't found out, huh?'

'Nope, it was close, but they didn't know it was me.'

Those poor teachers.


Again, another moment where I was like, 'Who is this kid, and when did she grow up so fast?' It is really a conversation about farting, and it is kind of inappropriate, but she is having silly conversations with her peers, without me.


So we get home, and get inside, and I am asking them what they want for lunch. E says PB&J, and Kendall asks what there is. I mention the leftover chili, and she says, 'Oh no! No way, I am not having chili again!' I list some other options and she then asks, 'Mommy do I have school tomorrow, are we going anywhere?' I say, 'Nope.' And she says, 'Ok, then I will have the chili, just wanted to make sure we were the only ones around in case I get gassy again.'


* Title taken from the book, 'Walter the Farting Dog', the beginning page of the book says, 'Warning: This Book may cause Flatulence' We really like this book, especially since Stanley toots alot. It is also becoming a movie, so if you didn't like this post, you won't like the book or the movie, and that's just too bad, you really need to loosen up, try farting.

Seriously?

Ok. Who is the guilty party? Stand up and raise your hand...I'm waiting, wooden spoon in hand. I just got an email from Babble that someone nominated my blog as a favorite, 'Mom ' blog. Seriously? I am flattered, but seriously? I really just blog because it is cathartic. Really. That's the only reason I do it. Because if I get it out and share in my craziness, they one have evidence for when I go crazy from raising these children, and two, so I can actually remember some things, because I page back through my blog sometimes, and am like, wait? That happened?

So seriously?

They say to post a link on my blog so that my readers can click the little, 'like,' button next to my post. So far I have 2. That's funny. Most people have like 100 or so. But 2 is good, I guess, 2 people like me. My Mom and Dad.

I guess you could nominate yourself, but I didn't. I wasn't really going after that and all. But it's nice. But if you have a blog and think it is worth voting for, nominate yourself, I will vote for you, it's the least I can do. Just let me know. I am all about blogging. It's therapeutic. I don't even know what you are voting for really, because it looks like the Top 50 for 2010 were already named. Maybe it is like a vote after the fact, I don't know.

Some of my favorite blogs are on this list. So take some time and read them. They are that good.

In the meantime, if you want to 'like' me by all means. Maybe you don't at all and you are like...you fool, like I would actually support you. And that is fine too, you know whatever.

So here is the link. I didn't even know of this site, whoops. And then as I caught up on other blogs that I read, supposedly I am supposed to. See, I am totally green when it comes to blogging, I just act like I know what I am doing. I think that you click on that little square to the right that says nominate a blogger, and then click the Vote Now, and then scroll until you find me, I am like at the end of the list. Trust Me. I think like Page 2, "Telling One Story for every,'Polkadot,' on my Face.' There is definitely an easier way to do this, but you know me, the most complicated way possible.

http://www.babble.com/babble-50/mommy-bloggers/


Uh, so thanks. Thank God I will never be nominated for an Oscar or something, because my speech would be terrible, and I would be publicly humiliated all over the tabloids.

Tale of 6 month talents

I just want you to look at this photo, and I don't care if you disagree with me, just let me go on and on about how cute he is. Really? Look how he just sits there. Too much.

And on a Sunday when the Eagles play. Here's hoping for the Eagles and Michael Vick. I forgave him, and I love animals, Jake did too, and Michael said that he asked Jesus to forgive him too. So maybe if we all try and forgive him he might feel this surge of love and lead the Eagles to victory. It would really raise the spirits of my sickly husband whose grumpiness is something I cannot tolerate. But more on man sickness this week.

And then there is this little close up....oh be still my heart.

Oh and by the way, he has this awesome new talent. If you are totally disinterested in the Eagles and really feel like holding a grudge, and say, forgive him? Yeah right. That's fine with me too. This will just help you out. He is a little shaky, but in the next week he will surely master it.

Why must children grow? Well, so they sleep through the night for one, and that I am ok with. But this whole growing up bit. I want to cuddle them forever, and I guess I can. However, their friends might think it a little weird when I show up at their college dorm just to cuddle with my son or daughter all day on a Sunday and read books to them, and give them fruit snacks, and ask them to promise me they will never grow up. I've said it before, I am that Mom.
Ok, so here we go...

Wait for it, Wait for it...

Almost ready...

Here he goes....Daddy just has to move his hand for you to believe it.

Why does the kid in back of him grow so fast? Seriously, belly hanging out? That shirt fit a week ago. But back on point...

Ta Da!

He's a little fussy at this point with the posing for pictures gig we've got going on. Sorry. Fussy Models.

A tooth and sitting all in one week. I am going to go upstairs and cry under my covers. Yeah right, like they would let me go and lie in my bed all alone. Seriously.

Ok...like I said he hasn't mastered it yet...whoops...

and look at E looking like, 'uh I hope they don't think I had anything to do with this.' Kendall caught him just in time, by the way, I didn't just let him smack his head on the floor while I snapped away.

*All picture poses were thought of by our creative director, Kendall Anne.*

Halloweenie

Is there a particular reason that it seems mandatory to run from house to house trick or treating? Seriously, their capes and wings were about to let them fly! My poor friend Stephanie almost went into labor from the clip we were moving at. I told her to sit down on the porch of some random people who had a candy bowl sitting out, and hand it out for them. We were practically sprinting...at least they held hands when crossing the street. See my parenting is working...when you start to doubt it...here's proof!

I entitle this, 'Halloweenie,' because one year this is what Kendall called Halloween. I don't know. Not sure how the mind of a 2 year old would put this together, but when you have a brother with a weenie, and you say something that sounds like that at the end, well then you say, 'Halloweenie.'

Now Halloween is a very easy day to dread. You have to get costumes, you have to pay too much for candy, and then you have a ton of candy in your house screaming at the top of its lungs, 'EAT ME!!,' to the point you can't hardly function walking pass the bucket of candy. And pumpkins, they are really messy to carve, and if you make one wrong cut, just one, your whole pumpkin is ruined and it looks absolutely ridiculous. My sister, Meghan, can attest to this. She has some talents, but carving pumpkins is not one of them. I love to laugh at her pumpkins every year and then feel bad about it later. I mean seriously. If you saw the way my dad, sister Michelle, and I carve our pumpkins you would feel sympathy for her also. We use power tools. Enough said. Meghan cannot use power tools, she might lose a few finger, and possibly even a toe.

You then have to hope for the best weather. Because if it rains, it is a terrible night. If it is too cold, then you either have a fat princess from all the layers underneath to stay warm, or you put a coat on top of their costumes. That's right. The $30 you just spent on a costume is ridiculous, because you just covered it up with a coat. It's never once been too hot here for Halloween, but I imagine that if you lived in a warmer climate, dressing up in costume would not be fun, most especially with a face mask, that would just be terrible. The sweat, just gross.

But me, oh I love Halloween. I think it is so much fun. There was a period of time before I had kids where I was in this middle zone that I didn't really like it as much as I used to or as much as I do now. It's the time where you get invited to costume parties, and you just don't even feel like thinking of a costume for you and your significant other to wear, you would rather just wear jeans. I still don't like dressing up in costume, but I like to help others think of costume ideas, and that is another great part about having kids. I went to work the day after Halloween and all my residents asked me what I had dressed up as, I told them I was still in costume as a scary witch. See for when you have kids there is no need to dress up, they just being, make you a scary ugly witch. No, no, I am not saying that seriously. But when you have kids, you don't have to dress up anymore, you have good reason not to, you are putting all of your creative energy into their costumes, you have an awesome excuse. Unless of course you are from that special bunch of mom's who like to dress up to go trick or treating with your kids, or to hand out candy. Oh have at it, but you won't be seeing me join you. Maybe it's laziness, I don't know.

I am a bit of a costume snob. And let me preface this by saying to all of you who purchase a costume from a store for your children because that is what they want to be, that is ok with me, I don't even bat an eye. But for me, I think it is a challenge to think of a costume or theme and to go with it, and search store to store for the items that are going to put these costumes together. And my costumes aren't even the best costumes walking from house to house, far from it. I just like to torture myself into finding the best and most affordable way to get a costume together. I know I am a little anally retentive. But to see the flimsy fabric they provide you with that makes up this costume. It's highway robbery!

It is just plain fabulous that for another year I have somehow convinced my children to stay in theme. Now this is easier if you have all boys, or all girls. Because as you know, I have the boys, and then there is Kendall. Kendall who is a special little thing, in that if I tell her to do something one way, she is for sure going to do it, Kendall's way. So I thought, well I can have E be what he wants to be and have Jake go with that theme, and Kendall, well she can be Hannah Montana or whatever crazy thing she wants to be, if it required make up, she was wearing it.

E pronounced that he would like to be Spiderman, then the next day it was Batman, then the next it was Spiderman again. This went on throughout the month of October. So I could not make a decision on Jake because I was waiting for him to decide if he was going to be a Marvel Super Hero, or Batman. So I just let him do this back and forth game knowing that he was going to be some kind of superhero, I just decided Jake was going to be Superman, because Superman does not wear a mask, most children do not like masks, 6 month old children resent them. So the more I talked out loud about the Superhero thing, the more Kendall's ears perked up. My plan going in perfect precision. She finally asked one day if there were girl superheroes. We looked some up online. She asked if they wore make up, of course they wear make up! Andy likes to say that I forced her into being Cat Woman, how dare he. I mean I might have just mentioned that I would paint her face like a cat, paint her nails black, and let her wear black lipstick, but forced? That's a little harsh.

She looks as though she is saying, 'MEOW.' So cute, right? But what she is really doing is yelling for all of us to hurry up so she can go get candy!

So one day the prophetic announcement was made, 'I will be Batman.' I thought for a minute about changing Jake to Robin to stick with the whole Batman theme since Kendall was to be Cat Woman, but the costumes were over priced online, I couldn't find green sweatpants, and Robin wears an eye mask. It was doomed from the start.

I love how when you ask kids to look at you when they have masks on, they have to look up, this has always made me laugh. It's the simple things.

So it was off to put some super hero costumes together. Some pleather pants and a black top for cat woman, with a tail and some ears. Some sweats for the bottom of the boys, cause it was gonna be chilly. I found some superhero shirts at target that they can wear again and are super excited about. Well Ethan is, Jacob would smile at anything. I then gathered supplies to make the boys capes.

Superman, although, with the hat on, he looks like 'Kid,' from Kid n' Play.

'Uh, excuse me, I want a cape too.'

My response, 'Uh, Cat Woman doesn't wear a cape.'

Her Response, 'Uh, this Cat Woman does, she also wears high heels.'

So three capes my sister Michelle and I made. Well I created the pattern, cut, pinned, etc, she sewed it together on the machine because me and the sewing machine don't get along so well. It has been called some names by me that would be instantly bleeped out on standard television shows. It's just not pretty at all. The reason for the capes is that I hated the capes that came with the costumes for superheroes. And even though I was not buying the costume set, I was still determined to do better, because I really like to complicate things. So now they have these capes to pretend they are superheroes in outside of Halloween. And it is really grand to have them flying around the house at top speed ricocheting off of tables and couches, and leaping off of the stairs to rescue the poor baby (Jake) from the evil baby snatcher, (me). Jake loves it and really plays the part of the rescued quite well by squealing in delight when they whisk him in his high chair away. Got to love a high chair with wheels.

Because even on Halloween, and even when the Eagles stink, it is mandatory for my husband to wear a jersey, because they are playing.

On Halloween we had a little get together on the court, where all of us neighbors congregated in front of our house with some camp chairs and a fire pit, and ate tons of fallish foods, handed out candy, and trick or treated. I made this decision since every other year we tend to all huddle together anyway, might as well make it a planned event so that the food is better. And that it was. There was Monkey Bread.

The trick or treaters who managed to stick together through the extravaganza. We spent much of the adventure saying, 'Hey wait for Leah'....'Hey, we went to that house already'...'Slow down'...'You take one piece, not a handful'...and my favorite...'What do you say!?!?!!'

This year Ethan got it. He ran with the pack, banged on doors, yelled Trick or Treat from the top of his lungs, and Happy Halloween, as his bag was filled with candy. Kendall, the old pro, led the pack with her dear friend Sarah who is allergic to half the stuff in her bag anyway, but still loved the entire idea of the night.

My superheroes were worn out. Just as planned. Ethan started accusing Kendall of stealing candy from him, and it was promptly to bed. Because although 400 pieces of candy is just not enough, according to him; according to me, he was speaking incoherently and needed to be sedated from his sugar high.

E, just before his meltdown, as you can see through evidence Kendall and her candy are nowhere near him!

He is so cute...look at those cheeks, how in the world did I get along in my life up to this point without him?
(Jacob, not my dad, but he's pretty cool too, I guess.)

This might have been the end of my trio with the themed costumes, some may say. I'll let you believe that until I cast my spell over them again next year.

And if you aren't quite over Halloween yet, please indulge in the Modern Family's Halloween Episode. Now I have never seen a full episode of the show, somehow know a bit about it thanks to Oprah, but you don't need to to watch it. Go to this site. http://abc.go.com/shows/modern-family/video , and click on the episode entitled, 'Halloween.' I promise you, you will laugh. Get yourself a coffee and watch it at nap time, lunch time, break time, anytime. I laughed so hard it hurt.

Brief Background: The guy who used to play Ed Bundy on Married with Children, is the patriarch of the family. Remarried to the hottie Latina, who is so funny, she has a kid, they live with him. His two kids; his daughter, actress Julie Bowen, is married with 3 kids, is another small entity of the Modern Family, and then there is his son, who is gay, and with a lifetime partner, and they adopted a little girl from somewhere in Asia, who makes up the other small entity.

Seriously. Watch It.

'It’s so great to find that one special person you want to annoy for the rest of your life' ~ Rita Rudner.

Oh la la you say...who got that dazzler?

I mean that is the prettiest engagement ring you have seen a bit, right? You will for sure show your significant other, 'honey, look at this ring, isn't it beautiful?' I mean who said it has to be an engagement ring? In this case it is, but no one said you can't get a diamond ring because you are beautiful, you clean the bathrooms in your house, and it is a Wednesday. I'm just saying. But back on point.

Simple Story:



Boy:

+


Girl:


+


+



3 or so some years

___________________________________________________

And there you have it. My little sister, the same one who used to smell my sneakers after field hockey practice because I told her it would make her live longer, is getting married.

They say they aren't going to talk 'wedding plans' until after the holidays...but notice how 'they' is a really great word in this situation, because it isn't the word, 'we,' and so that leaves me out of the equation. That is fabulous...and get used to it Eddie, for I am going to be your big sister too.
So get ready to be pushed down the stairs by me, wrapped up in a comforter. It was fun, Meghan will tell you all about it.

I also get to personally benefit from this engagement, which is really exciting. I know, you are sitting right at the end of your seat. I get to get my butt really in the groove and get this baby blubber off of me, that's right I said blubber. Pictures last a lifetime, and I am not going to be looking at them and say, 'ugh look at that chin.' , well actually 'chins.' ( I have three beautiful children, I have 3 beautiful children), ( I chant that regularly). So thanks guys for that incentive, me as well as my jeans appreciate it. So as 'we' plan for this wedding, I will be running my ass off. That's right, I said ass.

Goal: Broad St. Run, May 2011. I may die when I cross the finish line, but I will cross it, dag nab it. That's right, I said dag nab it.

Oh, and I also will be gaining a brother in law, that is also a benefit. Whoops, sorry about that Eddie.

So Congratulations! We are super excited for you! See I said 'we', instead of 'they', but I am sure they are also really excited as well.

The Happy Couple...


I giggle a little, because marriage is that much fun.

Greek Life

In college I was not in a sorority. Not because I all out revolted against them, but because my university did not have them. Well there was the academic fraternities, but they don't count in the slightest. I am talking about all girls, all together, typically for social interaction, sometimes even living together. You know, Elle Woods, in Legally Blonde? Typically this is the image of a college sorority, and I really don't think it is all that bad. Then lightening struck me. But no, I really don't. Had a been at a college that had sororities, you probably would have seen me during rush week, and I am pretty certain that everyone who knew me in college would whole heartedly agree.


I was told by someone during my exit interview from college that I was, 'essentially the queen of the mall, that I led the way through this social circle that dictated appearance, gatherings, and nuances. That I lived in this building and walked around hand in hand with my star soccer player boyfriend, where others wanted to come in but could only window shop.' Hello Elle Woods. Snob? Imagine my rage at the time. How dare someone say that to me, right? What would you have done? But essentially that person was telling me I had created some sort of sorority, i.e. 'mall,' and in all honesty, looking back on it, I don't really think that it was that wrong of me to do, I was 21 years old. Sure, this person totally misunderstood my heart, but I was loud, I was rowdy, and I had fun, and I am sure that is the way I came across until you got to know me, because malls have automatic doors you know, you can come and go as you please, I never felt bad or apologized for being me. I said my, 'hi, how are you's,' to every single solitary person I passed in a hall, but more on the fun nuances of christian schools at another time.


There are tons of sororities throughout life if you think about it. Right now, I am a lifelong member in Delta Mama Kappa Nu. The sorority of motherhood. Why don't you come to our mall, window shopping is definitely recommended. Membership is quite easy, by accepting a bid ,all you have to do is become completely responsible for a tiny person's life. That's it. Do you sometimes look at your kids and are taken a little off guard? I mean really look at them, typically when they all are having a meltdown at the same time, and just you just sit there staring, mind wandering, thinking, 'who decided this was ok for me to partake in?' In essence, who let me join this sorority? Rush week was fun and all, with my significant, but wowee, the hazing never stops once you are a Mama Nu.


Girls in a sorority usually have things in common, something that unifies them, a reason they chose that particular sorority over another. Other normal standards are the following: Most sororities have a color or two that represents them, and some greek letters. They volunteer and fund raise, they have social events. They have rituals and symbols and structure and organization. They have membership protocol. They have houses that are home base. They are also surrounded by criticism.


So it's quite simple. As you have seen above, being a mom puts you right into a sorority whether you want to be or not. Let me break it down real simple.


*Our greek letters are pretty self-explanatory, although they aren't greek, but they should be; MOM


* Our colors do not require us to go out to the store and buy something new, how cost efficient, right? It's homemade. It's our children's bodily fluid. That yummy greenish brownish shade that comes only from poop, snot, vomit, spit up, dried urine, slobber.


*Volunteer, Fundraising, Planning and Attending Social Events.
Is this not a given? Seriously. As a mom, I tell you, I end up volunteering for more then I should be with three kids, but you just do it because you do it. Not even because it is the thing to do per se, you do it because the preschool kids need one large can of pumpkin to make their pumpkin bread. You can't make pumpkin bread without the pumpkin!

And sometimes don't you just wish the fundraising was for you ,and for a sponsored day at the spa? Right. We fund raise for kids teams, their class, their friends mothers brothers sister who needs new teeth. We do it with such fervor that is almost is overwhelming. I mean once you start getting a positive response, you just go with it, like its a game or a challenge. I will sell the most wrapping paper!

And social events. I am not complaining or saying that all social events are just terrible. But the number of parties that your children will attend in a year is just obscene when you think about it. And you go and they go because they are your children's friends, and sometimes even your friends, and they came to your kids party. It's cyclical like that. In the previous case, you attend to provide moral support for your friend, to help set up and clean up, to play bouncer, because let's face it, 20 four year olds wreaking havoc can make your hair stand on end if you had to forgo it alone. But the kids love it all, and that, in the end is why we do it.

My favorite social events in this sorority are get togethers that we say are play dates for the kids, but they are really for us. And when you have kids the same age it is great. You open the playroom door, proclaim, 'have at it, and don't tattle tale unless someone is being physically harmed by someone else to the point that there might be blood on the carpet or a broken bone.'

And then we get to to sit and drink our coffee and eat something that consists of more than a handful of dry cereal for breakfast. It's lovely.

*Rituals. Really every member of the Mama Nu have their own entity in their own clan. But when you really compare, almost every Mom is doing the same thing as you are in those high traffic times, as I like to refer to them as. We get up in the morning, there is diaper change, peeing, telling them to get their pajamas off 68 times, peeking at where the shirt tag is to make sure the shirt is on the right way before they stick their arms in because god forbid they get in on backwards and have to take it off and put it on again, this is just not feasible. There is the search for a hair brush, a little girl whining about knots, toothpaste on shirts to have to go and find another one or pretend you just don't see it. There is another diaper change thanks to the morning poop, daily, talk about rituals. There is breakfast, and milk and cereal rings on left on the table. All of this and more are typically go on at other high traffic times of the day that being dinner time, and bed time. We are all performing our rituals at the same time, becoming very ritualistic. You follow?

* Symbols. The ultimate symbol of Mama Nu is of course the mini van. You see a mini van nine times out of 10, there is a Mama Nu driving it. I cannot clearly fathom why on earth anyone other than a Mama Nu might need to be cruising around in one, well I am sure there are exceptions, but you know. Another is a home that is cluttered with laundry, small toys, juice boxes, and fruit snack wrappers.

* Structure and Organization. These are the two words we are constantly chasing after as Mama Nu's. Who doesn't want a set bed time, who doesn't want their closets cleaned? Who doesn't want a kid who always remembers to say please and thank you, and puts the toilet seat down gently and not slamming it down with all his might? There are moments of shining glory where you get to the bottom of that dirty laundry pile, but quickly someone spills a whole glass of chocolate milk down the front of them. There are those moments when you are yelling, 'Where are you, we have to go!' And they answer, 'Waiting for you!' And there they are by the front door, smiling, with their coats on, and shoes on the right feet. It is amazing what they can achieve when a Mama Nu keeps her eyes set on the prize, and that being raising functional human beings.

* And as a Mama Nu, we don't have a set house to gather, every one's house is the sorority house. And they all look the similar. Sticky floors, finger prints on windows, cats walking across the kitchen table, that might just be my home, whoops, a toilet unflushed, and a pile of little kid clothes set in such a way that it looks as though they just stepped right out, that's weird right? Shoes, socks, pants, underwear, one on top of the other, like the child evaporated. But they all look busy, right? That is a Mama Nu house. There is always something to watch to entertain you, or do to entertain you. Most importantly in a Mama Nu house you feel comfortable, not like a toddler in a china store.

*And Mama Nu's are typically always surrounded by some one's criticism. How we discipline, when we discipline, when we don't. What school our kids go to and where they don't go. What we feed our children and what we don't. And how many glasses of wine we drink at the end of a hard day. It could be rough if you let it.

And that is where another experienced Mama Nu steps in and says, 'there is no right or wrong way, what works for you is what works for your family, if your heart is in the right place, it will all come together.' There is no set feeding time, napping time, bed time, play time, silly time, learning time, and that is what is awesome about being in this sorority. You can stay in your comfy clothes all day long, and it's ok, this sorority is also a tough one, filled with responsibilities, if you didn't get your mascara on today, we forgive you. But isn't it fun to have the camaraderie?

Most recently I have seen a bunch of brand new Mama Nu's join the sorority and have loved to watch other members huddle around them and make sure their hazing is a little bit easier then their own. That's sisterhood.

And to my darling husband...if you are wondering why the socks aren't organized, it's not because I don't love you, it's because I am part of a sorority with a lot of expectations, wiggle your toes a little and be thankful that even if it took me 30 minutes to find a matching pair, at least I did it, and found outfits for all my kids for the day, at the same time. Yeah Mama Nu!

Because I drank too much coffee today.

So wow. It's been awhile since I blogged. I am going to fully admit that three kids will do that to a girl, and I am losing my mojo when it comes to super multitasking anything other then wiping a runny nose and remembering not to use it right after on the baby's butt, or vice versa. Right now the babe is asleep. So I have a moment to ramble. And it is just that a moment, because this kids snoozes are completely unpredictable. That's fun,right?I am also waiting presently for the stain on the carpet that I sprayed cleaner into to be evaporated. Seems kind of crazy to me. But the stain is from Stanley, who must have gotten into something that he wasn't supposed to, and decided it might be nice to barf on my floor. How about the hardwood pal, the bathroom tile? Nope, as is such with my chaotic life, right on track, he barfed on the carpet, and that is no surprise to me. So I suppose we will be investing in some carpet cleaner today. That's fun.

To sum it up real quick, you haven't really been missing much. My house is pretty messy these days. I again, fully admit, I cannot keep up, so if anyone wants to invest in a cleaning lady and a home organizer for me for my upcoming birthday, that would be great,I mean, I wouldn't even try to stop you. I just cannot promise you that it will look the same 6 months later. I'm busy, man. And I really want my carpets cleaned. I am staring at them right now, the juice box stains...ugh. Maybe the next house I live in will have all hardwood floors. Then you could really see the animal hair, I don't know.

I was entranced with those miners in Chile. I seriously cried when the first one was coming up and they did that shot of his kid? I waited up to see that, paralyzed with fear that something bad was going to happen on live television and they would be stuck down there forever, with this video camera. That would have been terrible, so I peered at the television gripping my blanket praying for everything to go right, and it did, and they all came out, alive and well. Could you just imagine? I put myself right down in that hole with them and was panicking. I can't even stay in my house for one full day let alone three months underground with a bunch of smelly men. I continued to watch on mute each time Jacob woke up throughout the night counting down the numbers, engrossed in each of their stories. I could spew out at any given moment to anyone the reason for the order, how many capsules were made; 3 by the way, how big they were; a man's shoulder width wide, and how they survived down there, what they ate, etc. And I was filled with so much respect for the rescue men who volunteered to go down there to be in charge in this hole, and be the last one's up. Could you imagine if this was your husband? I would have committed him the psych ward at the mere suggestion, so there wouldn't have been even a chance of him going down there anyway.

My children are obsessed with these small 'guys,' as Ethan calls them. They are those action sized figurines, and you can get them anywhere, the Disney Princesses at the Disney Store, the Toy Story little plastic figurines, sometimes little people are included, and most definitely the characters you would get in a Happy Meal. Anything really, as long as they are typical not taller then let's say 3 inches. They play with them for hours. No joke. You would think that I could get rid of all of their other toys and let them have only these, but the clever little nuggets they are, they incorporate them into everything. The kitchen set? They refer to it as Giant Kitchen Land, and the people live in the microwave, oven, the sink is the pool. Ethan, however, in a thing that boys do twist, obsesses with lining them up. Wants them to have order. And this organization can happen anywhere, kitchen table, edge of bathtub, arm rest in the van, window sill,it happens everywhere. And the voices he makes them all talk in? I sit on the steps and listen to them play. I can't let them see me because then it would stop because of embarrassment, but none the less, it is very entertaining to me. I asked them yesterday when they were in the basement playing, 'guys,' if they wanted to come up and play with me, and they responded, 'nah, maybe later!' What!?!? Ethan now wants Santa to bring him, 'superhero guys,' since we are beginning to enter into this fascination with superheroes. And the best part about these guys is stepping on them. Nothing like muffling obscenities under your breathe as you attempt to get Buzz Lightyear's wing out from under your big toe nail.


I don't know, should I be concerned? Have I passed on my obsessive gene? The one where I take all my pretty things for a given season and arrange them just so? Speaking of. I have this little half wall that divides my main floor into two, and I want to clutter it with some fancy phrases or something of the sort....like this one...I love it.

From Etsy of course, it's a good thing I am on the tightest of budgets because I could go crazy on that site. Oh, I think that print would look just perfect in my house.

And then there is the chunkiest nugget of the three, our little plump raisinet. I could call him names like this all day, because all he does is smile at me. I race around at close to 100 miles an hour each day to make members of this troop content, and I turn and look at him and he looks at me with this huge grin, and the grin says, 'you are the most amazing person in the whole world!' Sure he is probably just thinking, 'hey look, there goes that crazed woman again, let's see how many times she has to tell Kendall to find her shoes today, I got my bet in at 52.' But regardless, I pretend he says the former, and scoop him up and thank him with kisses. Because babies can't talk, and some days, that is just awesome.


So there you have it, nothing much going on. We now go to like 48 birthday parties for children a week. School is cool like that, and so therefore I have even less time, but wait until you see what I came up with for an idea for Kendall's birthday party! See this is my problem, random thoughts at inappropriate times, I should be doing laundry, not dreaming of a birthday party in February!

Have a great fall weekend. I will surely blog tomorrow. I stored up a lot to say. Imagine what all the wives of those miners had to say to their husbands. That is like 3 whole months to fill someone in on, I would be talking for 8 days straight...'And then on Monday, the 18th of August, the baby took a 4 hour nap, and I wondered, should I wake him...'because I am that girl.