Put on...

Your Easter bonnet

 

 

 

 

With all the frills upon it...

 

 

You'll be the...

 

silliest bunny...

 

 

 

in the Easter Parade!

 

Naptime Mischief (updated)

That was the subject of the email I received from Melody's teacher on Tuesday.

And attached was this picture

Why, yes, that is my newly six year old daughter with blue marker all over her face.  AND a big smile.  (If you didn't know she was six now it's probably because I slacked again on a happy birthday post.)

When I picked her up from school, the blue had become more of a blue tint as she had been sent to the bathroom to clean up.  I'm not exactly sure how she got "color on your face" from "you may sit at your desk quietly and read, color, or rest".  Apparently, she thought "color" was subjective.

We get home later that evening and I send her upstairs to take a bath and (hopefully) wash the rest of the blue off.

I walk into the bathroom as she's undressing and see this

Apparently, her artistic vision was not yet completed.  If you look carefully you can see how she entertained herself by playing tic-tac-toe on her shins.

After expressing my surprise and reiterating yet again what markers are purposed for, she continues to undress.  She removes the rest of her clothing and turns around to toss her clothes in the hamper.

There another picture involved however I'm not going to post it.  It would be highly inappropriate to post a picture of my daughter's bottom.  Even it is totally covered in bright blue marker.

That little stinker even managed to sneak the marker into the bathroom to finish off her masterpiece.

You might be wondering what ever happened to the marker?  Yeah, I have no idea and, quite honestly, really don't want to!

*And I stand corrected. Apparently, she managed to do all this damage very quietly in the classroom.  When asked how she managed to color her fanny without getting up, she said she just, "dug in".*

Who's Your Daddy?

Alex went to Donuts for Dad's a few weeks ago at Jack's school.

All the kids drew a picture of their dad for the ocassion.

This was Jack's.

(sorry for the poor quality...it was taken with a cell phone.)

No, I'm not sure who's dad that is either.

--------------------------------------------------------------------------------

In other news. Yes, I'm back.  No, I don't know where I went.  We got a new computer (and I got an ipad!) so between just a lot of busy-ness going on and getting the new computer set up (which left me without a computer for a few days) I've just gotten really behind.

We'll see how long I stay on top of things this time.  I have several posts drafted.  After all, I know you are all dying to hear about Melody's 4th birthday and what Alex and I did for Valentine's day.  Right?  Right!?

Well, stay tuned.  Lot's of information coming your way soon!

PSF and How to Catch Ants

One of the things I love about my six year old (and six year olds in general) is the big ideas they come up with.

Jack came home very excited from school one day last week. He and a friend had hatched a genius plan to catch ants.

In preparation of this venture, they wrote step by step instructions, complete with illustrations, in this handy notebook.

I am now passing this knowledge on to you.

You're welcome.

1. Drag your foot across the ground.

2. An ant will walk out.

3. Drop rock on ant.

4. Dig a deep hole.

5. Ant will fall in the hole.

6. Ant trap.

See, simple. Yep, it's nice having a genius as my son.


Hosted by Cecily and Lolli

A princess always needs her crown

We went out of town just for a night

shortly after we left, Melody looked at me and said,

"Oh, shoot. I forgot my crown."

I know you're wondering...but we didn't go back!

Singing about Jesus

True Story Tuesday and boobies

Boobs, in the past, have been a popular topic of conversation around our house.
And, yes we do call them boobs or boobies. I have totally been the bad mom that does not teach her children correct terms for their anatomy. And keep your comments to yourself since, yes, it has come back to bite me in the butt. But that's a story for another post.

Jack was 3 and a half when I was pregnant with Charlie and fascinated with my growing belly and the boobs that would be feeding the cause of the growing belly.

Frequently we would have conversations about who has boobs, when they get boobs, and the purpose of boobs.

This freaked me out generated a need for privacy to be taught at our house. I banned Jack from the bathroom whenever anything personal was taking place and we had many discussions about why privacy is important.

However, while I didn't have to deal with Jack staring at me, or rather, my boobs, whenever I was getting dressed anymore, our discussions on privacy had little impact on curbing the boob obsession.

One day I was standing in the kitchen while Jack and Melody were running outside on the deck. It was spring and fairly warm outside so they were shirtless.

"Mom! Come quick!" shouted Jack.

I ran outside to see him pointing at sweet, little Melody, sitting down, plump with all those rolls one year olds still have. You know those rolls. Where their wrists look like they had little rubber bands around them and their legs, tummy, and chest are still rolly polly.

Do you see where I'm going with this?

"Look at Melody! I think she's getting her boobies!"

True Story Tuesday and Do I Know You?

One of the best and worst things about a schedule C-section is knowing exactly when you'll have your baby.

While it's nice knowing and not having to wait around, I always experienced a lot of anxiety, especially in the hours preceding my delivery.

Getting the epidural was especially anxiety inducing. Would it hurt? What if I didn't get numb? My anxiety manifest itself in the form of crying. So, pretty much the whole time leading up to the delivery (Ok, and after too) I'm a basket case.

For those of you who experience childbirth the natural way, and are probably screaming in pain by the time your epidural is in place, I'll give you the scoop on how it works.

The anesthesiologist comes in, after I've signed my life away, and gives me the low-down. This is stuff along the lines of sit really still, this is what you'll feel, etc. Then s/he introduced me to the anesthesiologist nurse who basically acts as my personal assistant throughout the whole procedure.

Remember those gowns you have to wear? The ones that are pretty much designed so that all private areas are accessible at all times?

As I'm sitting there with my nine month pregnant self hanging out of this gown, the anesthesiologist instructs me to place my feet on Alex's knees while she inserts the epidural. The anesthesiologist nurse comes in at this point and introduces himself, as Ryan. I'm trying to be polite while I'm sniffling like an idiot holding back tears.

The epidural is in place and I'm waiting to get numbed enough for them to place the catheter in. (Yeah, fun times, I know.) Since my legs are going numb and I pretty much can't feel or move anything, I'm just having to lay there, my fashionable gown not covering anything, with Alex standing on one side of the bed and my personal assistant, Ryan, on the other.

It is at this point that Ryan says to Alex, "You look really familiar to me."

Alex responds with, "I was thinking the same thing? Did you wrestle for Vestavia? I think we wrestled together in high school."

"Yeah! That's it," says Ryan and a conversation ensues about their glory days of high school wrestling.

With me, lying on the bed between them, legs spread.

Let me tell you, that did A LOT to calm my nerves. Right.

All I have to say is that I've never pictured myself lying on a bed between two men. However, if I did, wrestling certainly would not be the topic of conversation and I would not be nine months pregnant.

Thankfully that's one experience I won't have to relive again!

PSF and funny faces

We love to be silly in our family.

Along with all kinds of jokes, we're also big on funny faces.

In the past we've had some pretty silly ones

but I'm pretty sure that this one wins hands down!




Hosted by Cecily and Carrie

True Story Tuesday and Parenting 101

*Disclaimer: I've thrown Alex under the bus a few times so I just want it to be known that, while he does provide me with fabulous blogging material, he is a rockin' dad and a wonderfully romantic husband with a great sense of humor!*

On Thursday mornings my husband takes Jack to school. Since Melody has school at 8:45 and Jack has school at 8, I appreciate his willingness to go to work later than he prefers and save me some time.

However, since Daddy is home on Thursday, this makes for a very chaotic morning. This past Thursday was pretty much the most chaotic yet. In fact, reliving that morning over and over would probably be the equivalent of my personal hell. We had a busted, leaky diaper from Charlie that required a rinsing in the tub, a cleaning of the tub, and then an actual bath. After finally getting everyone dressed, downstairs, and settled at the table with their waffles.

Usually Daddy goes downstairs and works from home until it's time to leave. However, this time he brought his laptop upstairs and sat at the kitchen table.

While the kids are eating breakfast and I'm standing in the kitchen waiting to bring them more of whatever it is they want I realize I had forgotten to make Jack's lunch. As I'm trying to tell him to bring me his lunch bag and water bottle, he's in the midst of explaining to me that he refilled his water bottle yesterday so he doesn't need new water in it. As I'm trying to tell him him that water that is close to 24 hours old is not good and he just needs to obey me, he drops the water bottle (in the sink fortunately) sending water everywhere. He's still talking instead of listening to me and at some point a juice box flew out of my hand and hit the wall. (No idea how that happened. I swear) Alex is still just sitting at the table immersed in his email.

I finally get things cleaned up, talk to Jack about not talking when I'm talking, and get him off to school.

After dropping Jack off, my husband calls me to discuss the incident. I tell him that Thursday mornings are just too chaotic for me. I have a hard time getting the kids ready because they are excited that Daddy is there and that I expect him to help me but he's not because he's on the computer working. I told him that if he wanted/needed to work that was fine, but to please go down to the man-cave and stay there until it was time to leave for school.

"Oh," he said. "I didn't realize you expected me to parent."

(Yes, he was completely serious when he made that statement.)

Thank you, honey, for communicating so well with me. But let me clarify; if you are in the vicinity of your children, I do expect you to parent. Especially when I am on the brink of insanity and throwing juice boxes juice boxes are randomly flying about.

PSF and talk talk talk

My kids are talkers.

Ok, Charlie doesn't talk yet, in English anyway, but believe me, he definitely contributes to the noise level.

Melody and Jack however cannot. stop. talking. They mostly talk at the same time about completely different things which means the noise level at my house is comparable to the airport. Anyone who's been here can attest to that fact.

However, living with talkers does means that I get to hear some pretty funny stuff.

The other day Jack was counting for a long time. "Jack, how high can you count?" I asked, hoping that he would only say 30 or so.
"I can count to ten hundred," he answers very matter of factly.

Jack coming back in the room after brushing his teeth, "Whew. I am exhausted! I brushed every tooth!"

Jack's class went to the dairy last month. On the ride home, he was telling me about how they saw a cow get milked. "It was a girl cow," he said, "Her name was Rose."
"Oh, how did they milk her?" I asked.
"Well, they hooked up this big machine to her gutters."

He also told me how excited he was go get a break from all his school work to go on the field trip. "Day before day, we always work!" he exclaimed.
"You mean, day after day?" I asked.
"Oh, yeah!" he said.

*************************************************

As Melody's teacher was buckling her in the car last week, Melody was playing with the buttons on the teacher's shirt. "I like your buttons," said Melody
"Thank you," said Teacher.
"I like your boobies too," said Melody.

We received Rice Krispie Treats as a party favor from a very fun birthday party we attended over the weekend. When we got home, Melody showed her's to Alex and said, "Look! I got Christmas treats!"

Melody loves oatmeal. She has been asking for it a lot. Today, after I dropped Jack off from school she said, "Mom, you go make some oatmeal and I'll eat it all up! Isnt' that a great idea?!"

And her latest obsession: ghosts. "A ghost says boo (sounds like she simply blew out a puff of air) and it scares you and then you run."

*************************************************

Along with all this talking, we've also been doing a lot of jumping, frolicking, and falling...it's finally Fall here! After weeks of looking at everyone else's beautiful fall foliage, I'm happy we finally have some of our own.

Would you believe this is the best picture I got with the three of them? I couldn't sit Charlie down, move back, and snap the picture fast enough.

I'm very flattered that Cecily asked me to co-host with her this week. If you haven't been over there you should definitely stop by. Her creative talents are far superior to mine and, with three adorable muses, she has lots of great blogging material.


Hosted by Cecily and Emily

To play PhotoStory Friday, check this. Copy this code into your post and sign Sir Linky:
<center><a href="http://whatworksforus.blogspot.com/2007/06/iphone.html" target="_blank"><img src="http://i212.photobucket.com/albums/cc50/whatworksforus/pfw.jpg" border="0" alt="PhotoStory Friday" /></a><br/>Hosted by <a href="http://mychaosmybliss.blogspot.com/" target="_blank">Cecily</a> and <a href="http://5powellsinatlanta.blogspot.com/" target="_blank"><span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_6"><span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_7"><span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2">Emily</span></span></span></a><p/></center>

True Story Tuesday and I'm not talking about you

This is a story from my childhood. I had actually forgotten about this until I read Kmama's True Story Tuesday last week. I'm not sure if my mom is going to appreciate me telling this story, but since I'm an adult now and it's my blog there's not a lot she can do about it. Except, of course, call me and get onto me for blogging about this. She can threaten not to keep the kids anymore but we all know that's an empty threat. Ahem, love you, Mom!

Anyway, when I was a teenager, probably 14 or so, my mom and I were shopping with my aunt and grandma. Mom and I went into the dressing room to try on a few things leaving Aunt Karen and Grandma to browse. We were sharing a dressing room and talking quietly since there were other people trying on clothes as well. As my mom is stepping into a pair of pants the lady in the dressing room next to us totally lets one rip. It is seriously loud and disgusting! My mom looks at me (with her pants half on) and mouths "GROSS!!" The offending lady quickly gathers her things and hightails out of there. Being the nosy person I am was, I peak out of the room as she leaves.

A while later we are standing in line to make our purchases. There is a lady at the counter and then one other lady waiting and then us. The lady at the counter is none other than, dum-da-da-dum, poot-lady!

I whisper to my mom, "That's the lady that pooted!" "Are you sure?" Mom whispers back. "What are y'all talking about?" asks my aunt who's just as nosy as I am. "That lady paying was in the dressing room next to us and had the loudest poot ever." we told her.

While this conversation is taking place, the lady in between us and poot-lady keeps glancing over her shoulder at us. By this point, poot-lady has walked away but we are still talking about her. The lady in front of us starts to walk away, glancing over her shoulder at us one more time.

"I think that lady in front of us thought we were talking about her." I said to my mom. "Oh, no!" says Mom, who's pretty much the nicest person ever, "I feel so bad." "Go apologize" I encourage her. So my mom walks over to the lady and says, "Excuse me, I just wanted to let you know we weren't talking about you." The lady just looks at her. "We were talking about someone else" Mom explains. The lady just kind of looked at her and walked off. I'm sure she didn't believe her since my aunt and I were standing there watching and cracking up at the whole thing!

Head on over to Rachel's place for some more true stories!

I plan on having Part 2 of my Ask Me Anything post up tomorrow...I know you'll be on pins and needles waiting!

True Story Tuesday and The Class Clown

While walking through the mall the other day, this older gentlemen notices my two adorable children as we pass by.

He looks at Charlie and says, in a baby-ish voice, "Well, aren't you a cute little baby?"

Melody looks at him and mimics replies, "Well, aren't you a cute little man!"

Thankfully the man busted out laughing and said, "I think she just made fun of my baby talk."

Melody of course laughed hysterically as well.

Class clown? Most definitely.

Head over to Rachel and Mr. Daddy's place for some more true stories.

True Story Tuesday and my dancin' husband

True Story Tuesday again over at Once Upon A Miracle.

I'm not sure how much Alex will appreciate me posting this story, however, it's my blog and, honestly, it's just too funny not to tell!

Our first night in Cancun, we walked down to the beach front bar for a few drinks after dinner. After sitting, chatting, and listening to the waves for a while, we started to head back upstairs but we sidetracked by the "game time" going on over by the pool area. We were pulled from the crowd for a couples dancing game.

After a few minutes, though, they made all the women sit down but kept the guys up there.

Then they picked a few guys to pretend to be the women.

Guess who got picked?
(Yes, those are balloons shoved up his shirt!)

Do you think Alex had a good time?
Watch the video to find out!

True Story Tuesday and how to fool your husband

My husband was thrilled when we bought a house with a finished basement and immediately dubbed it the Man-Cave.

Over our past 2+ years in this house the Man-Cave has slowly morphed into the Dog-Cave/Man-Hole.

Alex didn't want a place to burp and scratch in peace relaxing, testosterone filled room as much as he wanted a place to dump all his junk and keep his dog. Anyone who knows me in real life, knows that's just not gonna fly. Over the past two years the Man-Cave has simply become unlivable. It's just a mess and more of a junk room than a Man-Cave. It reeks of dog and, in the past few months, the dog has succeeded in destroying the carpet in his quest for a perfect bed.

Here is the carpet in the back corner of the Man-Cave.

We have been talking about making some changes to the Man-Cave and have finally started this weekend.

The two main changes we are immediately making is new paint and a new floor.

We recently had our family room painted a light pale yellow color (Lantern from Sherwin Williams to be precise). I told Alex that I wanted the basement painted the same color. I like rooms to flow well and it's a cheery, light color which will certainly lighten up a dark a basement.

His immediate response to this was, "Yellow is not a manly color and certainly not appropriate in a Man Room."

I told him to think of a few manly colors he would like and he said he would get back to me.

I spent the next day thinking about how I could trick my husband lovingly convince my husband that my way was better.

*lightbulb*

I took the swatch of color and a pair of scissors and cut the color name off the top.

Later that night, as we are sitting in the family room chatting, I casually say, "I think I found the perfect, manly color for the Man-Cave."

Alex looks at me with a skeptical expression.

I hand him the swatch.

His skeptical expression does not change.

"That color is called Beer Foam," I say.

"Now that's more like it!" Alex responded.

And that, my friends, is how true compromise works.

PSF - I should have named her Ava

A few weeks ago, Melody and Jack got to spend the weekend at their grandparents' house in Birmingham.

One of their favorite activities is a visit to the McWane Center.

Since Captain and P3 are total pushovers, the kids always gets to pick out a present at the gift shop on the way out.

Jack, who is so original, {sarcasm} always picks out a different variation of the toy he got last time.

Melody picked out this

Yes, that's a sippy cup for a little baby with the name Ava on it.

P3 tried everything she could to convince Melody to chose something different. Melody even turned down a stuffed animal (completely unheard of for my huge stuffed animal lover!) for this cup.

And then, being the pushovers that they are, they bought her, what is now known around our house as: The Ava Cup.

I guess I should have named her Ava.

And I can't really blame Captain and P3...it's next to impossible to resist this cutie-pie!

Hosted by Cecily and MamaGeek

True Story Tuesday - the day the dress broke

Today I am celebrating 8 years of wedded bliss.

And in honor of this celebration, I'm going to share a true story that took place on my wedding day.

It's one of those totally-not-funny-at-the-time-but-hilarious-now stories.

Dress shopping was one of my favorite wedding preparation experiences. Who doesn't love dress shopping?! And wedding dress shopping? Even better. My dad actually went with me to pick out my wedding dress. He narrowed it down to two and I chose his second favorite.

Like all brides, the wedding gown fitting is an important part. Several times I drove from Auburn to Atlanta to try on my gown and have it adjusted. Let it out a little here, take it in a little there.

The last fitting I had was just the week of my wedding.

When I put the dress at the last fitting, I commented that it was a little tight around the bust line. (Those were the days of my fabulous bust line.) The seamstress and I discussed options and since there were only a few days before my wedding, it didn't seem too tight and I didn't want to let it out only to have to worry about tugging it up all day, I decided that I would just leave it the way it was and, you know, make sure not to eat a lot that week.

Fast forward to the morning of the wedding and my Granny fluttering all around reminding me to eat. She kept talking about how she once saw a groom pass out at a wedding because he hadn't eaten all day. She tell me this as I'm getting out of the shower, again as I'm headed out to get my hair done, and again as I'm getting ready to go to the church.

Of course, I'm thinking, "I can't eat! I have to fit into my dress!"

I go to the church, hair done, make-up applied, into the dress, suck in and button.

Ahhhh, perfect.

Out to take pictures and then back to the brides room to wait for the actual ceremony. Enter Granny. Still going on (and on) about eating. This time, though, she's armed with a tray of pastries. The temptation proves to be too much and I reach for one.

Apple danish. YUM!

I scarf it down and then bend over to grab a napkin...

All of a sudden I feel and hear a popping sound. Then suddenly I have a more freeing sensation around the top of my dress.

Yes, that top button had popped right off!

I immediately knew what happened, however, my lovely bridesmaids gather around me telling me that the button has just come undone. They are looking for a safely pin and then spend a lot of time attempting to safely pin it together. All the while, assuring me the button as merely become unfastened. In walks my mother-in-law and joins the hoopla trying to safety pin my dress as well. In walk my own mother and aunt. The take one look at all the commotion and just walk back out.

Can you believe someone (and I'm not sure who!) took pictures of this fiasco!?!



Now, I don't actually know how long the whole process took but it felt like an hour. It was definitely long enough for me to eat one more danish.

A nice shot of rum to calm me down and a little while later I was ready to walk down the aisle and sign my life away marry the man of my dreams.

Ironically enough, the dress actually fit perfectly after the button broke! I was able to dance the night away! And I am happy to say that was really the only snaffu we experienced. Mostly.

We had a gorgeous wedding and a fabulous 8 years and I can only imagine how wonderful the rest will be!

Happy anniversary, babe! I'm so glad I married you!

boys will be boys

The other day I told Jack to pick up his erector set before Charlie woke up. I kept catching him putting them in his mouth. He was spitting them into the container.

(I know you're all thinking you're never coming over here to play again!)

I got onto him several times and finally threatened a punishment. "Don't put them in your mouth again, or you won't be allowed to play wii tonight."

Then I caught him doing this....yes, he is blowing them into the container.

Really, there are no words.

Why do boys have to be so gross!? Seriously, what's next? Pull my finger?

Alex, by himself, plus 6

It's time for True Story Tuesday again over at Once Upon A Miracle!

This week's TST comes from Alex's perspective. Alex babysat six children on Friday so that Lauren and I could go out on the town! Here's his take on the evening...

The girls left to go out around 7. They looked awesome. You know, I just love it when Emily hangs out with Lauren. Especially when they go shopping together. I'm so glad that my wife has someone to share her love of shopping with. (OK, I added all that but I'm sure Alex thinks that, right?!)

About 7:20 I hear crying upstairs. I hope it's one of my kids. It's not. I go into Charlie's room and there's EJ crying up at me. Great. What do I do for this kid? So, I lay her back down and pat her back. She's still crying. I pat some more. I leave the room and hope she falls back asleep.

She doesn't.

I go back in the room. She's staring at the door and crying. Pat, pat, pat. Still crying. I go downstairs and call Emily praying she answers her phone. Thankfully she does and they are just down the street at Webb (you know, my brofriend) and Lindsey's house.

I talk to Lauren and (since I don't want to seem incompetent...after all, I have three children myself!) I tell her I'll give it a few more minutes and call if she doesn't stop crying.

She doesn't.

I call back. They decide to swing back home.

Then I hear a strange sound. It sounds like a baby crying but it's not Charlie over the monitor. Is it EJ, I wonder? I go back upstairs and into the room. EJ's actually being quiet, but I still hear that crying. I walk over to the crib and holy s*#^ there's another baby in there!! What the?... Oh, yeah, Lauren did have another baby a few months ago!

Hm, two crying children, neither of whom are my offspring. Girls on their way back home. I decide it's not my problem any more and go back downstairs to finish my beer. After all, Shark Week is on!

And that's a true story by Alex!

PSF - my own little band of Hell's Angels

We had a little fun last week

Got to be a little crazy...

And got a chance to be "bad"


Hell's little Angels, right?

Hosted by Cecily and MamaGeek