Things I know now that I am 10 months old

I like to rub my food into my hair...it feels so good, and it gets me a bath every time.

My sisters make me smile whenever I squeal to get their attention.

Grapefruit, Goldfish, yogurt and Club crackers are de-licious.

The big stuffed gorilla in the playroom really freaks me out.

I can say "bye-bye," "Pawpaw," "ball," and "uh-oh." I'm still working on "meow" and "moo."

Oh, and for some reason "Momma" and "Dada" seem very important to my parents...don't worry, you two, it's on my to-do list.

I can crawl backwards and stand at the couch. When I let go, it's so fun to close my eyes and drop down. But pick me up again fast and let me do it again 'cause the rush of the fall is awesome.

I've outgrown my baby chair, my swing and my exersaucer. Mom, Dad, I think it's time for some big girl toys.

I despise that blasted car seat. If I arch my back, stiffen my legs, and scream really loud, it buys me a few minutes.

I'm fascinated by all types of balls. I particularly like (and emphatically demand) any ball my brothers' have and won't immediately give me.

When Daddy and Landon wrestle and scream, I cry very hard because I think they're hurt.

I love to sing...really loud...especially solos...in church.

Landon scares me but I still love him.

In the wake of our $125 apple...

...I ranted about here and our potty troubles mentioned here...

I give you the Renuzit Adjustable Cones Air Freshener toilet plugger-upper. Yes, you too can sweeten the smell of your toilet water (as Landon, 4, has so graciously done for ours) by shoving the air freshener directly into the toilet. Let me not forget to mention how he also generously tinkled on top of the plugged freshener and then attempted to flush. I have no idea why, but he thought it was a good idea at the time. In case you're wondering, a Renuzit Air Freshener does, in fact, stop the flow of water so completely that one has to retrieve said freshener, tinkled-in water and all.

I swear, someday the boy's going to be a plumber.

The perfect way to talk with my teenage daughter

I had an aunt tell me once, at her own daughter's high school graduation party, that the Lord prepares mothers to send their children off to college by making the little darlings so wretched their senior year of high school that the moms are happy to send them on their way. I scoffed at the time because my then sweet 13 year old was quiet, obedient, and hung on every word I said. Little did I know that five years later my precious little poster child for the perfect offspring would turn into this surly, impatient, grouser who acts as if she can barely tolerate me, let alone be in the same room.

I have learned that speaking with her as an adult is an act of futility since at 18 she's still a kid in many ways, and therefore, our conversations are a series of her dramatic overreactions to anything coming out of my mouth. The phone also produces it's share of theatrical responses that send this mama over the edge.

We have found, I am excited to report, a way in which we can finally exchange ideas calmly, rationally, and without my blood pressure rising to dangerous levels...

We instant message while in the same house!

She's on the upstairs computer, I'm downstairs on my laptop, and we have a delightful time. I check the status of scholarship searches, college applications, and homework assignments, all with nary a tiff. I don't have to see her eye rolls, I can't hear her deep, heavy, how-can-you-be-so-stupid-mom sighs, and the sarcasm loses it's bite somewhere between her keyboard and mine.

We have found a way to talk again! And with 101 days until graduation (not that I'm counting or anything), we might just make it.

This is precisely why I keep the camera out of his reach

I'll spare you the close-up shot he took next.

Mommy brain aka: My mind is a terrible thing to waste

Have you ever had so much bumping around in your brain that you just couldn't seem to think straight? Maybe it's just me in my chaotic little life, but the children that need rearing, the problems that need solving, and the projects that need doing have my head so constipated that I can't seem to eek out a coherent thought lately.

I painstakingly search, almost always unsuccessfully, for the simplest of words. I stare blankly at the computer screen as well as the grocery store shelf as I try to remember exactly what I was looking for. I take wrong turns on roads I have traveled for years. People speak to me, and while I know words are coming out of their mouths, I often have no idea what they have just said. And usually by the end of the day my to-do list has inexplicably lengthened, as I am not (as my fourth-grade teacher, Mrs. Wallace, suggested) making wise use of my time. Little is getting done and what does get accomplished took so long to get that way that it doesn't really count anymore.

What is going on?! It is apparent my family needs a new and improved version of me, as it seems I'm growing older and progressively more clueless (just ask my 18 year-old...pfft). It also doesn't help that my closet and house aren't "my" kind of clean right now; clutter bogs down my brain and retards my already sluggish synapses.

Large, important pieces of my mommy-keeps-it-together puzzle are missing. This momma desperately needs to get her groove back.

When toy baskets attack

Urine trouble

boys x 2

overflowed toilet x 2

wet floor and carpet x 2

nasty, stinky, I-don't-want-to-touch-them-with-a-ten-foot-pole towels x 8

Add to that...

2 wet beds (Was there a full moon or something?)

wet pajamas x 2

Wet sheets x 2

With great restraint I was able to keep any and all sarcastic sighs, looks, and comments to a minimum. Well...the toilet water did elicit some loud, guttural groans, but other than that I was suprisingly cool as a cucumber.

Now, to the laundry...GROAN!

(oops)

Growing pains

(Lovely picture, huh?)

As I'm driving her to school...

Reagan (almost 13): "Oh Mom, I hate this."

Mom: "What's wrong?"

Reagan: "I can actually feel them growing."

Mom: "Feel what growing?"

Reagan: "My feet!"

Mom: (*sigh*) "I hear ya, babe. Sadly, I could say the same thing about my butt."

She's up to a size 10 in her shoes. (I, on the other hand, refuse to reveal what size my butt is up to.)

When my grands visit

I let Granna play with my toys.

Pawpaw and I read the paper.

Granna and I play ball.



We pat-a-cake...

And we throw 'em in the pan.


They went home yesterday and I sure miss them. Come back soon you two!

Vegas, baby!

9th out of 168 teams!

Really bad hair day

Note to self: Remove the scissors from the Landon-accessible drawer in my bathroom.
(He's not smiling because Momma wasn't happy.)

It's a numbers game and I'm losing

1 father in Vegas with 1 daughter for volleyball for 4 days
1 mom at home with 5 children
2 of them sick
1 of them vomiting
3 of them sucking in sicky germs so they, too, can soon join the infirmed
3 day weekend (only 72 more hours until school starts!)
3 parties
1 party with a 10pm pick-up time (drat!)
1 licensed driver
2 school projects that involve posters and costumes
1487 pages of homework (okay, slight exaggeration) for 3 children that need a mother's assistance
11 meals to prepare
923 snacks to fetch (not an exaggeration)

BUT...

Reinforcements are coming! Hooray for grandparents within driving distance!

This photo doesn't do them justice...

...and the twelve pictures I've taken aren't improving due to the poor quality of my photography. But these roses are a butter cream and blush-colored rose with antique pink tips. There are two dozen of these heavenly-scented blossoms along with a multitude of baby pink mini carnations scattered throughout. Just breath-taking. I wish we had smell-o-screen so you could breathe in their wonderfulness.

Dinner was a family affair at Saltgrass Steak House topped off with a monster sundae and Key Lime pie.


Yes, my Valentine's a keeper.

2008 Cotillion

You can't boogie until you get some lunch. (Hayden, you're supposed to be praying!)










The girls' table.













Keaton and Hayden with their official partners.

















Mother/son dance

















Daddy/daughter dance

















No cotillion is complete until you do the "robot."

















And when a kindergartener asks you to dance, you just smile and say yes.

Cotillion Kids

Today is the annual Valentine Cotillion at Hayden and Keaton's school. If I would have let them get dressed for the event last night, they would have. Neither child slept, but I'm sure the constant stream of sugar and the excessive strutting-of-their-stuff will keep them going throughout the day. I highly anticipate the duo will crash about 8:00 pm.

Happy Valentine's Day!

My funny little Valentine

I am now a reformed cookie killer

Some of you may remember the botched batch of cookies I wrote about here. I got so many wonderful suggestions from a variety of commenters, others commiserated with me and shared their own cookie failures, and still others emailed offering their own tried and true tips.

One of the commenters was my online friend, Barbara, who has a fabulous blog called Bless Us O Lord where she shares her cooking expertise, a weekly menu, and an array of recipes even I have been able to use.

During my cookie fiasco, Barbara suggested that I take the amount of butter listed in the recipe and replace it with 1/2 Imperial Margarine and 1/2 Crisco Shortening. She also said to replace my brown sugar with dark brown sugar.

I followed Barbara's tweaked recipe and here is the result:





These cookies are perfect and taste delicious. My family thanks you, Barb, as do I.

Why he may never go to school

Airport









Hotel









Giraffe









Pic of Daddy =)









Bowling









Racing









Homework for sisters...









...Power Rangers for him.









The true reason for the trip was a volleyball official college visit for Sutton. She loved the school, the team, and the coach. Other colleges keep calling and emailing and there's a big tournament this weekend in Las Vegas for unsigned seniors. We hope she'll make a decision soon. (Are you listening God?!)