Nothing should have that many legs.

This morning, I woke to Tink screaming in her sleep.
She had a nightmare.

"I was at Aunt Flag girl's newb house and Gramma was tickaling me and der was a weally big spider crawling on da floor, at me."

I should feel a little guilt. I have a pretty crazy, irrational fear of spiders. I have tried, not to pass fears onto my children. I rarely panic and if Coach is not home, I will Man Up and kill the beast myself.
But the fact remains, they are creepy little vampires, with too many legs and the Deal with the Devil Ability to crawl upside down.
Therefore, who can blame her.
I have had several nightmares of my own, awake and asleep. In regards, to the arachnid species.
My fears are as listed:



1. As I peacefully slumber, one may crawl across my face and/or enter my mouth. The reason for why I will prematurely wrinkle, from forcefully pursing my lips together, in my sleep.

2. As I lay, I will watch in slow motion a spider fall from the ceiling towards me. Unable, to properly dodge out of the way, for fear it may land in my hair.

3. A Black Widow spider nest, may be comfortably inhabiting my garden gloves and/or any pair of shoes.

4. At some point, I may accidentally enter and then immediately lock myself, in a room with thousands of different species of spiders, roaming about with complete evil freedom.

5. Covering my youngest with her blanket, only to discover the most evil albino spider has fallen onto her belly. Having to suppress the urge to either spastically throw the baby to the floor or slap her, to kill the insect. (True story.)

6. Having to use the restroom, in the middle of the night, to find a spider has cast it's web across the toilet bowl.

7. Finding yourself, completely vulnerable and at their mercy as the spider crawls into your shower.

8. Actually, taking a break to type this post, walking across the room and nearly smacking into a tiny spider hanging from the ceiling. Luckily, my keen Spider Eye, spotted the bleeper. Unluckily, I was forced to clap it between my hands.

9. A spider will crawl up my leg, as I drive, screeching across several lanes of traffic, killing myself and innocent pedestrians, as I knock it to the floor and then hyperventilate knowing it is alive under my seat.

10. While outside at night, accidentally walking face-first into a Wood Spider Web.

11. Also, but not limited too:
Tiny specks of spiders, I cannot see.
Losing my entire thigh to a brown recluse.
Ticks in my hair (they are spider-like)
Spider Dance Parties Hidden Under my bed.
Spider Egg Sacks.
Tiny Jumping spiders, especially near my car window.

As you can see, Tink has a completely rational reason for having Spider Nightmares. Now.... her fear of worms seems a little ridiculous.

Does anyone have a safety pin, in case her suit-strap snaps?

Typically, the (Pee)H level in the baby pool, is always a little off.



But when the Mrs. hands the babies Oreos to:
First, dip in pool water before
Second, eating/smushing them in their mouths.

Well, then it is time to change the pool water.



Hey Grabbie!! Those poor Cherries are stretched enough, try to show a little LadyLikeSelfControl, while eating chocolate in the presence of your boyfriend. Wait until you sneak home, before consuming countless, empty calories with delirium.

Rule #1: in Mommy's Dating Handbook.

Also, if given the chance, inquire with Punkin, the fastest way to never be asked back to a pool party.
Hint:
It is not peeing or pooping, in the big pool.

Sunscreen for Everyone!

Today, Flag girl moves into her new awesome house. While the others were moving, packing and lifting heavy stuff, I volunteered to wrangle the children.
I snatched up kids left and right to create a day of Sun and Fun. We rolled down the windows, cranked the Ke$ha and turned the van into a Dance Party Rave. Hey, some Aunts knit blankets, while others blare inappropriate songs and rock out.
First, we ventured into Wal-mart for brand new swim suits for all.
It was mentioned, not everyone needed a new suit.
Our Ke$ha answer to that:
Blah, Blah, Blah.

We grabbed pools, sprinklers, bubbles, squirt guns and water balloons...turning Tru Stories, into a Water Park.
The pictures, speak for themselves.
The Kids and I, had a wonderful time. I absolutely, had the easiest and sun-taniest job of the day.





















Congratulations, Flag Girl.
May your new home fill to the brim with
love, laughter and memories.
And with children as beautiful as these, in your life...that should happen pretty quickly.

Grab yer best Tube Top...Empty the Savins....We is headed to the Carnival baby.

After attending a Small Town Carnival, I am left with the same Age Old Questions.

1. Why does a Carnival always bring out A Particular Class (WT) of people?

2. How did they come to the conclusion, that was really the most appropriate outfit to wear in a public gathering with children present?

3. Are they hiding somewhere, the other 10 months of the year?

4. Are they aware, the Radio Flyer Wagon, was not actually advertised to carry:
1 child
2 dirty Dog/Mutts
1 carton of Camel Smokes

5. How in the heck, are they even able to afford a night at the Carnival? We dropped $75 in two hours, on Ride Tickets and Snacks. Do they spend the calender year, saving their pennies, by pinching on:

A.) All forms of Dental Hygiene
B.) Current Hair Maintenance/Upkeep (If you are naturally a dark brunette, yet desire to be blond, please commit to the monthly touch-up)
C.) Properly Fitted Clothing for themselves and/or their children
D.) The purchase of any Self-Help Book outlining Acceptable Etiquette for Polite Society as NOT:
-Growling swear words in the presence of children.
-Blowing smoke wherever you may please.
-Parking yourself smack in the middle of anything.
-Walking the fair grounds with your hand in the back pocket of your boyfriend's jeans.
-Taking your Carnival Game Prize work of art home and hanging said picture in your living room.

Feel free to answer.

Take Me Out Coach...

When I was 7 months pregnant with The Kid, growing BIGGER each day, I dreamt for him to one day be:
A. On the Illini Starting Five
B. A Longhorn Quarterback
C. An All-Star Baseball player
D. A Scientist

I guess, the answer can be all of the above. I was really pushing for the first three. This week, C became True. I was equally excited and a little, tiny bit ...ummmm... kinda annoyed.
I know! I am terrible!
I have a healthy, beautiful son with perfect legs which allow him to run; strong arms, which allow him to throw; and capable hands which allow him to catch (well, they should allow him to catch, but his poor attitude gets in the way)....and yet:
We are in the depths of the longest, rainiest, complainingest baseball season of my life.
Trust me, I have been a baseball fan for many years.

As always, Coach was the Coach. A mistake he may never make again. Coaching baseball to 12 boys aged 8-9, in the last weeks of school...is maybe not as fun, as one would imagine.



On our team (this summer and every summer) is Six.
And if we had a nickle, for every single time one of them uttered,
"I am not a baseball player, I am a scientist!"
Well, we would be VeRy wealthy. Wealthy enough to vacation, far away from muddy baseball fields.

To say our boys lacked interest, is an understatement.
Look very closely, at the following picture....
follow Six's eye line...



It is not, pointed directly at this...



Coach, desperately, trying to grab his attention with a pitch. Each child, receives 5 pitches, multiple that by a Gabillion and you would have the amount of pitches Coach, shook his hand and said,
"Keep your eye on the ball."

We had a trusty, Book keeper. Poor Two. As you can imagine, Pinto League Book Keeper, does not pay very well. About as well as Pinto League Coach or Pinto League Parent In Charge of Bored Little Sisters.



Each game, we had a large cheering section. The loss of our In Town field, to a massive Tornado, did not help attendence.
Grammy and Pop Pop stuck in there for nearly every single game. At first suppressing their urge to shout out instructions to The Kid. Later, they began barking orders at their leisure.
But...
He really WILL NOT PAY ATTENTION!!
I suppose, it's not like building a Robot.

Despite, his best efforts at mediocrity. The Kid's natural abilities kicked in some. He became a Hitter. Knocking down, Double after Double.
He fancied himself a second baseman. Making a few plays, each game. We'll pretend, his temperament was at a satisfactory level.
Possibly, having his father coach him, may not be conducive to a great Father/Son relationship.



Tonight, will be the Second Half to what will possibly be their last regular season game. (Following a shocking rain delay last night.) Unless, by some miracle they win, prolonging Coach's torture and sending them into the championship.
Not to worry, we still have several more practices for All Star weekend.
Of course, falling on The Bride's Big Wedding Weekend.
Gosh knows, we had nothing else going on.

Congrats, The Kid!
I am proud of my All-Star.
Now, for all that is Good and Holy...
pay attention and catch the Dang Ball!
Love you.

Rain, Rain Go Away...

Gosh, ya know what would be super neat?
If it would rain.

I can barely remember, the last time it really rained.
It has been so gosh darn long, since I walked across a wet, squishy lawn.
Or woke up to a Glorious Cloudy morning.




It has been Ages! since I fell asleep to the sound of thunder gently rolling in the distant evening sky.
The weeds have barely had the opportunity to flourish AmazonJungleStyle, thanks to our Monsoon-like environment.
My children, get giddy with the excitement of a fun little storm and hardly EvEr talk about another Tornado.

I just Heart the BeJesus out of humidity and keep my fingers super, tightly crossed that we can get whole bunches more of it. As my hair just thrives, in Ultra Groovy Muggy conditions.

I also Heart when:

*I consistently sit on wet lawn furniture.

*We receive/make 47 calls a day, in regards to which baseball/softball game may be Rain Delayed.

*Mud.

*The Pleasant Surprise of realizing we actually live in Louisiana Swamplands, rather than the Midwest.

*Visiting the Weather Radar Website, 4-7 times a day.

*My son's Fantastical attitude, after Golf Camp is cancelled. Because the look of Utter Broken-Hearted Disappointment is much more endearing than the Joy-filled smile after the purchase of his Brand New clubs.

Mostly, I Heart to teeny, little pieces
sharing nifty quality, indoor time with my children,
while they grow paler and more Vitamin D deficient each and every day of their Summer vacation, as it
rains.. and rains...and bleepin rains.

Who really enjoys the swimming pool, anyway?

Oh,
even more rain is expected today!
Fun, something Different!

To the Dad...

I can not think of a better man,
to share these brats with.




Happy Father's Day,
to my other half.

Three may have been pushin it...
but it is our mess
and I am happy to be lost in it,
with you.

I lobe Bubbles.

If Grammy buys you a new Bubble Lawnmower.
In an attempt to coax you into walking.
Your face, may look like this....



But if your older sister is a Mean Little Tinkerbell,
who believes the mower should be hers,
"Cuz it's pink and I lobe pink stuff."

And that Mean Little Tinkerbell steals your mower.
Your face, may look like this....









By the way.
Can you guess,
how hard I Heart my new camera?

Pretty hard.

Cookie?

Yesterday, at Bible School, Twelve and Coco had their first real conversation.



Twelve walked up, carrying a Chocolate Chip Cookie.
She pointed it towards Coco, and said:
Cookie?

Coco reached, her Chubba little fingers, and said:
Cook? Cook?!

Translated: Duh, yes I want a Cookie.



Twelve, quickly recoiled her treat back, and said:
No. No.
(And sweetly but violently shook her head No.)




Coco then, began to shake, shriek and claw at Twelve.
Cook! Cook!

Translation: Do you not see my thighs?! Are you slow, or something? Don't just be flashing a cookie in front of me and think you are not going to get hurt!

Twelve, turned and ran away.

Twelve Translation:
I guess if you want this cookie,
you had better learn to walk, Chunka.

Credit- Twelve
For getting the last word.

You are Buggin Me.

Dear House Ants:

Wow, to say the last three weeks have been eventful, is an understatement!
You are a wild, little speck of gut busting fun.
From the first Saturday morning you arrived, cuddled up sweetly, in Tink's bowl of Cinnamon Toast Crunch... it has been a roller coaster of fun.
Upon, further investigation, we found your buddies located in nearly every single darn open package of food we owned.
And wasn't that a hoot!
What better way, to clean your entire kitchen out before, 9:19am in a happy Springtime morning. I certainly, cannot think of one. After tossing, our full supply of dry goods, I then realized we have several expired boxes of Tuna Helper. I heard Tink, muffle a sob when we tossed the Cookie package out. We ended with a fun bleach scrub down of the cabinets. Good times.
I really ought to commend you, I was more than past due on Spring Cleaning my pantry and the swift kick in the behind was well deserved.
I must thank you again, for reminding me several days later, that it is not cool to leave plates with Eggo syrup out on the counter. Obviously, you are quicker than I. It was almost enjoyable draining a full can of Raid along my counter tops, walls and window. It is very clever and surprising that you found your way, actually down into my sink drains.




The amusement began to wear thin, sometime around incident Number Three, when the girls noticed your trail along the carpet. This perplexed me and may have summoned a few swear words. I understand the Syrup and Cereal boxes, but my carpet? That seemed excessive and down right arrogant.

I'm sure, our home is a little like an Ant's Wet Dream. (I apologize for the reference.)
Seeing as we have yet to turn the Air Conditioning on even once...

Take a moment.
Soak that information in.
Not.One.Time.
Not even for the humidity.
Not even that one week, it was nearly 100 degrees.
Nope.

Do not blame Coach. Shaking your fists to the heavens, that he is yet another Cheap Son of a Bleep! It is actually I, who is not the fan of Air.
Much to the confusion of my husband. 'If their are devices invented to blow cold air into a warm home and we own such devices...why are we not using them?'
Answer: I'm just not a fan.

Continue...

Without the Air, I understand our home feels a little like the sticky Jungle environment from which you originate.
The sweat smell coming off my miserable children, must be inviting.
The juice dripping from sippy cups.
Coco's dropped Cheerios.
The fact that my offspring are basically, pigs...
well, who can really blame you?

But Ants...
I am not playing.
You will meet the same fate, as my Fall House Guest, the Fruit Fly.
Ant traps... purchased.
Three bottles of Raid...Armed and Ready.
I have almost completely given up grocery shopping, resulting in NO such dry foods to lounge about in.
I'll pretend to blame the Ants, on my weaken desire to shop.

Crawl down the block.
This Inn is Closing.

Just stick an Acute-ly Sharp Knife into my Newton-Apple Red Heart.

Assemblies.
Not.A.Fan.
I remember, feeling bored.
Painfully bored.
I have realized, after attending several for The Kid, assemblies may bore me even more, as an adult. Even, if your child is walking away with a ribbon.
Therefore, line up the Perfect Storm of the Lamest Assembly Ever ...and those events would have landed Squared (math joke) on yesterday afternoon.

The Kid and Six, spent their first week of summer...
A.) Staying up late, Partying like Rockstars?
B.) Swimming, until their chlorine fed eyes bled?
C.) Playing baseball, to perfect their infield rotation?
D.) Attending an all day, Invention Camp?

Sorry,
the Correct answer is D.

Edie, Warhol, Coach and I have shared rides and over nights...with front row seats as the boys morphed even Super Sonic harder into Twin Dorks.
Dork Camp 2010, was 30 minutes from home.
We would pack the girls up, drive so unbelievably slow on two lane country roads, behind semis (who.apparently.have.no.where.to.be.in.a.hurry) headed to a bridge designed by the Devil's Private Architectural Firm, carefully shimmied over (as the boys, mentally weighed the other vehicles to determine if we were past the allowed weight limit) and drove into Dork Camp Central.

On Friday, the Camp, held a Closing Ceremonies.

Let's throw, all these spices in the pot, stir it up and see what kind of Boring Stew, we can create.

Dice, several Dork Camp students Aged 5-12.
Sprinkle in Camp Counselors (identified as freshman at various mega-nerdy universities.)
Add, 4 Tablespoons of Student Built Robots made with Donated Recyclables
1 Cupful of Science and Math Teachers.

For extra insult over injury,
Simmer, on low heat over a Basketball Court, just throwing a little Spit on the Concoction.
Thankfully, Coach was at work.
He should never see a Court so desecrated.



I was bored.
Even with, Tink's unShuSHable chatter.
Until....
The Teacher's began a Q&A. Shouting out questions with words such as Acute, Isosceles, Neutron, Measurements...
I was transported back to 16.
My eyes clouded over with panic.
I felt sick.
My mind raced.
What if they asked a parent question and I embarrassed my brilliant child with, my fumbling knowledge of Math and Science?
Immediately, following my last College course, I erased the teeny bit of knowledge, I had desperately tried to absorb. I can barely use a Measuring Cup to cook Hamburger Helper, without a mild panic attack.
Why didn't I sign him up for Art History
or maybe Classic Literature?

The moment passed. We were not asked a question. The Dorks were jazzed and ready to show off their inventions. Warhol, Edie and I...fained interest and nodded in appreciation at their Dazzling Imaginations.






Bottom Line.
Was it worth the $250?
The naggingly long drive?
Crossing the Dare Devil bridge?
Spending extra hours with two boys Pumped on Crack-like Dork Camp Adrenaline?
Perfecting, my 'Pretending to be Interested Acting Skills'?

Absobleepinlutely!



I have a Mad-Crush on those two brains.
I will continue to nurture those little spirits until their Ivy League Keg Parties, turn them to Mush.
Proud of you boys!
You are more than worth it.

Remind me again?

I have forgotten, what it feels like too:

*eat an entire bowl of cereal, without sharing bites.

*casually, paint my toenails, without also painting 20 other tiny toes, as I frantically blow on them to dry.

*just lay, on the couch and do nothing.

*flip the TV on, without immediately finding Dora.

*shower, without a tiny audience, on the other side of the curtain.

*walk down the hallway, without picking up a toy.

*dress, without quickly covering up, in front of inquisitive eyes.

*sit on my patio and read.

*make a meal, small enough for two.

*sleep soundly and into the morning.

*have a clean house.

*talk on the phone without hissing for someone to 'please BE QUIET!'

*have a free weekend.

*speak in a grown up voice.

*weed my garden, without checking to see if the baby is eating dirt.

*sit down to dinner, without making sure Tink has her favorite plate, The Kid has the right amount of Milk and Coco has her food, perfectly cut in baby bites.

*venture to a beach/pool without 1 plus hour, of sunscreening, diaper changing, swimsuit wrangling, snack packing, water toy bagging and then actually relax in a lounge chair without constant scanning for possible drowning, sand eating, kidnapping, water diaper pooping, racing to the toddler to the potty, feet on hot sand burning and the dreaded "Time to Pack it Up" announcing.

*take an evening stroll without a stroller.

*just go to bed, when I am tired.

*drive, in an empty vehicle.

Quick Reminder to Myself:
One day, I will desperately try to remember, what right now felt like.

New Stuff Makes Me Happy.

Very exciting.
Clap, Hooray.
I got a new camera.

And what was the very first image, I snapped?
Tink's Bloody Nose.



She is such a Crybaby.
I did not even hit her that hard!

I Kid! I Kid!
She has sinus issues.

Be warned,
from this day forward,
my children may appear
even more beautiful on blog posts.

The Sky Opened.

Saturday night, our town, was hit by a Tornado.
We, were not home.
Our children, will not have a lasting fear of this storm.
Unfortunately, several areas, in our community suffered severe damage.
Homes have been destroyed, precious belongings have been lost, beautiful old trees have been toppled and mess has fallen from the sky.
Thankfully, only a small handful, have been hurt.


(The home of a family friend.
The stage, for past wedding memories.)



(The Golf Course. Had the Tornado remained this strong, only 5 miles further, our neighborhood would have been lost.)




(Our porch swing. We found a large piece of siding, wrapped under and then back around, the base of the seat. How does that happen?)


(The cover to an Encyclopedia, I have found the pages all over our yard.)


(The start, to the pile of items, cleaned from our yard. Notice the green, from the brand new high school roof. The large, thick piece of wood, found neatly on our patio. I could not, place the red roofing and yellow tube. Until I saw the following photos.)


(The children's baseball complex. Located several blocks from our home.)




(The high school.)




(The home, located 3 houses, down from us. This extends all the way through the roof, ceiling and rests on their kitchen floor.)


(This house, is located barely one block over. As we took this picture, many volunteers were moving their belongings out.)


(The Mobile Home Court. Completely destroyed.)

We have spent hours today, filling bags with small pieces of homes. We have gathered countless slivers of siding, plywood, shingles, papers from books, a broken CD, shards of glass, handfuls of insulation. I am awe struck, over what a Tornado, is capable of.

The damage to our property, lists as follows:
1 broken rim from a downed basketball hoop.
1 missing white bucket.
A few, very filthy mud splattered windows.
Branches down.
Bark ripped from trees.
24 hours, spent without Power.

That. Is. It.

I would happily, list that over and over.
I have, several times, to myself.

We were extremely lucky.
Our home, feels very blessed.
We are thankful our neighbors and family from Grandma's....extending all the way to Grammy's, were spared.
We appreciate all of those,
Who:
dropped by to check our home, in our absence.
inquired on us.
offered a generator for our fridge.
delivered a fresh gallon of milk, for the kids.

My heart is full for this community.
To witness the endless line of volunteers, pass our home towards the destruction, as they offered a hand.
Our Village, will not receive a fancy telethon.
Instead, our Midwestern town, will roll up their sleeves, donate clothes from their closets, rally around their own...and endure.
I feel proud.

Race Update Part Deux

Time Remaining Until Race:
1 month.
Just under.

Time Spent Running on Treadmill:
0 Minutes

Time Spent Running on Street:
0 Minutes

Time Spent Walking on Either:
Cumulative, maybe 2 hours

Runner's High Experienced:
Ummm, since I have not actually run anywhere...
I guess, NaDa.

Pages Read in Marathon Book:
2 Chapters.
1- On What to Wear
1- On What to Buy
If you look good, you feel good...right?
That should cut off a few seconds, from my time.

Time Spent Discussing, the Fact that I need an IPOD:
Hours.

Certainty, an IPOD, will send my training, to a new Level:
100% certain.

Certainty, that an IPOD is actually what I should buy,
rather than a NANO or whatever the bleep the correct initials for whatever the new gadgets, are them kids are playing with:
Ummm, not certain, at all.

Purchased:
1 Sports Bra
Found on Clearance.

In Conclusion:
It appears, my body is a finely trained machine.
I may actually, want to think about scaling my training back, a touch.



Coach's Training:

Time Spent Running:
0 minutes

Except, his Softball base running.
Which is Stupid fast.
Otherwise, he is a Short Stop and that does not require running,
as much as crazy, quick movements.

Time Spent Reading Marathon Book:
As if!

Time Spent Thinking about a new pair of Shoes:
Always.

Time Spent Hysterically Laughing, after I told him, a VERY sweet, and well intentioned Girl, offered to secretly help me train, so that I may surprise Coach, by Beating Him:
He will still randomly burst into body-bending laughter, as the thought enters his head.
He will laugh again, while reading this.

Amount, we Still all Hate Him:
Lots.

Happy Training,
To those duped into this insanity.

A flower, for you....

To all my ladies.
My friends.
My sisters.
My relatives.
Every female follower.

I dedicate this to you:

Be.....:
beautiful, special, unique, strong, daring
amusing, brilliant, significant, patient
insightful, well read, exciting, gratified
curious, serene, engaging

Do not....:
surrender, sacrifice, pacify
settle, underestimate, sell, cheat

...yourself, for another.


And never believe, you are NOT....:
worthy, capable, deserving, valuable
desirable, likable, irreplaceable
Enough





Quotes, from two Amazing women:

"Long stem roses are the way to your heart
But he needs to start with your head
Satin sheets are very romantic
What happens when you're not in bed
You deserve the best in life
So if the time isn't right then move on
Second best is never enough
You'll do much better baby on your own"


"Some boys take a beautiful girl,
And hide her away from the rest of the world.
I wanna be the one to walk in the sun."


Happy Thursday, ladies.
Grab a little piece of the world, today.
You deserve it.


Extra Credit, if you can name that song/artist.