2 Live Crew

It's Noon, Do you know where your children Are?

Mine are right here. Enjoying a high-nutrient dessert of fig newtons. Thank God they're safe for Flynn.

It's been a busy morning. I did most of my "chores" last night while Jeff was in bible study, so that all morning I could belong to the kids.

Here's what we've packed into the morning:

Painted a unicorn suncatcher. This was one of Flynn's bday gifts that I tucked away for such an occasion (that occasion being Flynn being up before 7 am & me wanting Gabe NOT to be).

Playdough play. Making various common objects, such as bells & arrows. Someone tell me why cookie cutter companies think of things like bells & arrows?

Watercolor art. Because. Well, why not?

Flynn tried to call Papa twice. She wanted him to come over & join the fun. But he was out gallavanting with his retired friends. So, he was unreachable.

About this time, Flynn fell off the ottoman, backwards. Being the non-resiliant child she is, she decided to use her pain & misfortune to boycott getting dressed & being reasonable.

More playdough. Flynn likes to take the blue & green "swirly" (mixed up) playdough & make 'the earth'. Then, she points to a random (probably not random to her) spot & say, "This is where we live." "This is where Aunt Gee lives." Pretty smart, I realize now that I'm reflecting on it.

Then we played the brilliant game of "Let's Empty the Dishwasher". This is really a clever scheme that Daddy & I invented. Mmwwaaahhh aaa aaa (evil laughter). The kids think we're being super nice to them by letting them help. But the truth is, it enables us to get this daunting task done in about 32.7 seconds. Why? Not because of the extra hands putting things away, per se. But because of the fear that the extra hands will drop some of the glass & other breakables. It makes us move all that much faster. You should try this some time. Talk about expedited.

Next, I-Spy computer game. Flynn drives me crazy with the computer. This girl loves technology. And would've been happy with a blackberry from Santa. Bubs & I checked this game out yesterday, at the library....right after he boycotted storytime ("this is for the birds" he yelled out, in Mandarin).
I set the timer for Flynn, while G-man & I headed back to his room for some boy play. I taught him the important skill of holding his face just far enough from the dinosaur, that his sharp scary teeth will be mere millimeters away from your face, when he does his calculated turn. You know, life skills. Things he can take to school with him...experiences to make him a successful man.

By now, the troops were getting restless & ready for something else. Then, the cursed Dora Game House was requested. Dora Game House is a thorn in my side as it contains EIGHT, count them, games. And THREE of those are card games (a whole 'nother story), which look similar. Old Maid looks uncomfortably like Crazy Eights, which is the same color as Go Fish! So, imagine when ALL THREE card games are strewn across the livingroom floor.

So, the three of us play bingo. This is fun 'til Bubs starts doing somersaults. Bubby + somersaults + bingo chips + not-completely-flat bingo cards = Flynn having a total heart attack.
Bingo had to end quickly, and that took total creativity on Momma's part. Let's just say, it wasn't total fate that the spinner landed on Green Isa.

Fast forward to dominos. I didn't even know how to play this game. Flynn taught me. I asked where she learned it. I expected her to say the local retirement village. Or Nana's. Or Gram's. But she said, "Chelsea's House." Hmm, okay.
What was Bubby doing you ask? Well, I'll fill you in. He was standing on the couch (against the rules) behind me, stage diving. Onto. My. Head. At one point, I figured a good way for him to learn why standing on the couch was against the rules, was to let him go plummeting to the hard floor. He hit with a thud. Looked surprised. And started rubbing his hip. I thought to myself, 'Smart move Momma. That'll teach him. Looks like he got the message.' But that's right about the time he growled a satisfied growl & began a laugh that can only mean: Repeat.

God help me. I'm outnumbered. Then I remembered my weapon. Lunch.

"Flynn, what do you want to make for lunch?"

"Noodles."

So, I taught her about burners (right now, Nan & Gram are having a collective cardiac arrest). She turned on the back burner & started the water. She poured in the pasta when the water was boiling. Unfortunately, more noodles went all over the stove, counter, & floor, than actually into the pot. That's when supermomma turned into tired & over-extended momma & I made her push her chair back to the table to wait there for the rest of lunch.

But 1/2 way back to the table, she meets up with Gabe, and his dinosaur. Words were exchanged, some in english, some in Māori. Threats were made. And Sissy got owned.
Nothing a good bowl of noodles can't cure.
Thank God for carbohydrates.
Now we're all tired.
Unfortunately, some of us are in denial about our exhaustion.

Not me.

Sixty Degrees

That's how much it dropped, here in St Louis, in mere HOURS!!!!

Right now, it's "up" to 12 degrees.

I just can't believe that the kids & I were outside yesterday, without so much as a jacket, then not two hours later, we look out the window to see snow & ice pelting the ground.

You know what they say about Missouri, "Don't like the weather, stick around 'til tomorrow." But I say, "This is stupid, it's going to make us all sick."

What's Cuter than Cute?

The Tea Party Crasher

What do you do with a brother...
when the sister has a playdate...
and he wants to join the party?

Friday Fun [Sub Post: Monkey Arms & Rachael Ray]

Hi. I'm Gabe.

I'm happy because today my mom took me on a field trip to an open gym gymnastics day.

My arms are very long.

My mom says I have monkey arms.

Can you tell I don't care? Especially today.

I'm having the time of my life.

Maybe my mom's onto something...

I do hang upside down like a monkey!

Do monkeys jump on trampolines?

Or play in parachutes?

Here's more, from my sister Flynn...

I'm Flynn. I'm four now but have been enjoying cooking since I was two.

My specialties include, but are not limited to
BANANA BREAD.


I always sub in soy milk for cow's milk. Of course.

I crack & whip my own eggs.

Some moms would think my momma's crazy.

She even lets me use the mixer (with a warning of what it could do to my fingers...

or braids...)

My mom's always impressed though, that unlike Rachael Ray,

I clean up myself, after my cooking show.

The end.

Big Al's 60th

Remember a year or so ago, when I asked you to pray for my aunt Alice? And then I was pleased to inform you about a year ago, that she was declared cancer-free.

Well, I think it's pretty cool that today she turns 60 & has outstanding health. That's a thanks to God, that's for sure.

My aunt is well known for being creative & being an excellent story-teller.
When I was young, not only did she built great forts & decorate cakes like nobody's business, she could spin a tale better than a spider.

I figured she'd think it was fun if I interviewed her on her big day. I know I'm happy to preserve some of these memories...

How did you get the idea for your MAGGIE & BAGGIE stories?

I can’t remember how I got started telling the Maggie/Baggie Stories but it was when we lived on Drewel Court and you, Jeremy, Chris and Jason were small children. I had plenty of time to make up stories for all of you and I did too. All of you loved my stores. Daddy dated a woman named Maggie who we all loved. She was so sweet and also treated us good. She was playing with Jason one day and he was in his swing and she was down on her knees in front of him making him laugh. That is how I got the name Maggie for the story. But I am not sure when the story actually began or how I got the idea . But in my memories of Maggie, she was so sweet and that is why I named the good little girl Maggie. The name Baggie fit the bratty, mean little girl perfectly. I couldn’t think of another name for the mean girl, so I gave her the name Baggie.

Have you ever considered publishing children's stories?
No. But I wish I had at least written the stories down.

What was the wildest thing we did, as kids,that stands out in your mind?
So much fun was had sliding down our steep hill in the back yard on Drewel Court . We’d take boxes and flatten them out and slid down the hill and we could really go fast. But one day you took Jason part way up the hill on a bicycle and he got on and you gave him a push and he learned to ride a bicycle with no training wheels. He was only four. But we had fun playing hide and seek in the house and I used to act like a Tiger and you all would be so excited because you’d be hid and I’d be growling real loud and looking for you. Do you remember this? We had a lot of fun also at Drewel Park , but I can’t say it was wild.


What is your best memory of growing up w/ mom?
We would play for hours outside and never get tired. We made a house one day in the edge of the woods by our house and it had a wooden floor but no walls. We spent a lot of time with our favorite cousins, Jack and Bill and they were like brothers to us. Some of our best memories were walking to our little two room school in Sherman and the fun times spent there. It was about a mile. Sometimes on the way home, we would just strike out walking through the woods, never knowing where we’d end up. We just walked in the direction we thought our house was. Somehow, we always ended up pretty close to our house.

Do you have any memories of your mom?
Yes, I remember my mom and have several memories, although I was not quite four when she died. I remember one day back in Portageville when she was picking cotton and they took all the cotton and put it in the back of a truck. They told me that I rode the back of Mama’s cotton sack, but I can’t remember that. But I do remember the cotton all piled up real high in the back of the big truck and your mom and I jumped in the cotton. I remember Mama drove a truck in the cotton field one day and a man on the back of the truck fell off when she let out on the clutch too fast and made the truck jerk. I remember her laughing real hard over it. The man didn’t get hurt when he fell off. And I remember she was sick and in bed for a long time. One day your mom and I were arguing and getting rowdy and she told one of us to get a switch and she threatened to give us a spanking with the switch, but she didn’t. One day she was cutting up a chicken in a big dish pan and I was standing in a chair watching her. The chicken was a fresh chicken (one that you wring the neck and take feathers off yourself) anyway, there was blood in the water as she was cleaning and cutting the chicken up. I started crying because I thought she cut her hand and she explained to me that she didn’t cut her hand but it was chicken blood. I remember the day she died and everyone was crying. That is about all I can remember about Mama, wish I could think of more.

What is the best thing you remember about Grandpa?
Your Grandpa was quiet, kind and humble and would never argue with anyone. And he was above all honest. One of the best things he did was to make sure his family was always in church. We went real often (four times week) and we loved going.

Thank you for the answers... and the memories... hope your day is as special as you!

Baby Hat

Gabe's speech is delayed. He should be forming 3-word sentences. But he doesn't. He tries very hard to talk. But it's mostly a language that no one here knows.

Sometimes when he's trying to tell us something, it starts out as a "Mmmmmmmmmmmmmmm ---" then he comes out with it.

He also does some swapping of sounds. Where the word's ending sound might get tacked onto the beginning. He also leaves out some vowels & more often, a consonant.

For example, "Daddy" is "Day".

Had he been my first child, I would probably be overreacting right now. But, we're both educators & we know that us flipping out isn't going to help matters.

Next month, when he's officially 30 months, he will be referred to speech therapy. And we will take him to get all the help that's offered (I'm sure at a cost).

I know it's in there. Today Jeff picked up a green block & asked him what color. "Geen!" he shouted out. So, he knows what words he's wanting to form, it's just challenging for him to form them.

For now, we relish his speech. We don't encourage his mispronounciations, well, maybe sometimes we'll call his "cup" a "goggy", because that's what he calls it. But for now, we think it's endearing.

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

I was switching his chest's contents over to the 'new' chest -- as one of the very few changes we were able to make in transformation of nursery to big boy room (there's a lot we want to do, but not much we can afford to do).

And looky what I ran across. A baby hat. It even has little bear ears. I stretched it over his big head & said, "Aww Bubs, a baby hat!... Now, GO show Daddy!"

So, down the hall he gallops & approaches Jeff.

"Mmm...beeby hhhhhta."

Now, that's something you could spread on your biscuit. And I wanted to hear it over & over again. (I actually would've loved to have downloaded it & put it on my iPod)

So, throughout the course of the weekend, Bubby would find his beeby hta & put it on. He tried to sleep in it. And when he woke up one morning, he diligently searched for it.

It makes me laugh that kids this age can have mini-fixations with things. It's the beeby hta now, what will it be next...

GOVERNMENT WARNING: Do Not Swallow Chewing Gum

Twins

My sister called me when she uploaded her Christmas photos. She was laughing & talking about how much Jeff & I look alike in the family photo of us that she took.

Sure, sure, I thought. I mean, I know we look alike. We always have (this isn't a case of a couple being together so long that they start to look alike)....
as a matter of fact, when we were only "friends" & were teaching 2nd grade together, our classes went on a field trip to Grant's Farm.
One of the parents, who had never seen me, commented to one of the teachers,
"It sure was nice of Mr Perry's sister to come on the field trip."

When we talked about having kids & what those kids would look like, we laughed, as the gene pool isn't too huge. Same features.

And you'll notice, the poll to the left, is pretty much neck & neck.

"But you guys look like twins, you won't believe it." My sis said.

She. Was. Not. Kidding.

What do you think? Separated at birth?:






















BTW, this could be our least flattering photo, ever. Esp my usually-photogenic hubs.

Swan Lake

I remember when I first contemplated putting Flynn into dance. If you know me, you know I am not a girly-girl. I'm more on the tomboy side. I only wear earings like 10 times a year. And these days, you're hard-pressed to find me in a skirt. And heels? Who needs'em.

So, I just never imagined having a girl who took ballet. I guess I just figured I wouldn't relate.

But Flynn became interested in gymnastics. And there are no gymnastics classes around here. The Y, where she took them as a baby, decided they wouldn't have tumbling anymore for that age group.

So we began our search. And I discovered that this dancing school also offered tumbling, as part of the three-fold, "Ballet, Tap, Acro."

I was still skeptical. One of the first questions I asked the owner was, "At recitals, will she have to wear make-up?"

She probably thought I was off my rocker. But I have a hard time with a four-year old wearing mascara.

So, we went just to check it out. All four of us sat in on a Saturday class. The owner & her daughter (Flynn's current teacher) were so wonderful. But I was sure that I was upfront with them, as Flynn as well, "We're just checking this out... and in the event we make a decision that we're going to do this... it won't be for a while."

And then the little girls started dancing. They did their warm-ups, and at the end of their time at the barre, they made a circle. Their versed routine went along with the accompaniment. And all in time, holding hands, they came together in the circle. And giggled.

And my eyes welled with tears.

It was so cute. And I saw lots of pink in our future.

Before I knew it, I was writing checks and looking for leotards. And those cute skirts that go over the leotards. And tap shoes. And ballets. And a dance bag. And tights. (thank goodness for friends to hook you up)

And now every week, Flynn looks forward to "goin to dancing." And I look forward to it too. At least I know she's getting a regular dose of 'girl'.

And for crying out loud, oh Lordy, the cuteness. That room is a concentrated amount of cute I tell you.

I'll let the pictures speak for themselves...

Ms Gloria measures Flynn. Ms Gloria is old & is the sweetest lady. She so totally has her wits about her, I mean for crying out loud, she runs a business of 10+ classes of dance!:

Ella is Flynn's partner for the recital routine:

You can see that dancing is a serious commitment of theirs. They're always sure that they give the teacher & the routine their full attention. They'd never get caught monkeying around. Not them, no sir.

I so appreciate Flynn's petiteness. Not only does she get to enjoy a body type I never experienced, she's able to wear leotards FOR YEARS. Saves Momma lots of Moolah.

As I said, she always pays attention to the teacher. She would certainly never turn around just to look at the camera. No sir.

Madelyn & Jordyn are the BFFs of dancing. Flynn [hearts] them & looks forward to seeing them each week. It was perfect that when I was there with the camera, that she just happened to end up warming up between them:

"Hold the big beach ball. Hold it out in front of you.":

I had to end with this one, because O Lordy, the cuteness. This photo makes me want to have quintuplet girls. And dress them all in pink & lace & bows. That's so against my nature. But look at Madelyn's hair swinging for crying out loud. And Flynn's 'dance hands'. They make me sorry I was ever hesitant to put her in dancing.

Remember ONLY IT WASN'T TOOTSIE ROLLS?

Seriously, she never did anything like this... and this is at least his third experience with doo doo...

Just now, as he & Flynn were finishing up their baths, he not only had a BM, he proceeded to attempt to pick up the baby ruth from the tub.

The tub was also full of toys.

And things weren't firm if you know what I mean.

And I think you do.

I think you do do.

Headbands

Who knew they'd be such a source of creativity...and drama!

The other night, as a treat, the kids were watching a movie in our room.

Apparently, they'd gotten into a little set of drawers where I keep headbands.

They emerge, she wearing a somewhat hard, ornate headband (it was stiff enough that it could flip up on its side); he wearing a thin orange elastic band.

As they enter the livingroom, she announces their presence, "It's the Princess and Jesus!"

I looked at her, a little shocked (I'm thinking Jesus?, how ya figure?).

So she 'clears things up', "I'm the Princess & Bubby is Jesus."

I must have still been wearing my look of confusion because she walked over to him, placed her hand on his hairband & explained to me,

"It's a halo."

I'm a PackRat

in every aspect of my life...

I absolutely HATE throwing things away (which is why I'm the recycling Nazi right now).

Even/Especially photos.

So, imagine when it came time to get rid of the old cell phone. We had no means to transfer the photos to the computer. I had all these photos, 1/2 I'd taken, the other 1/2 Flynn had taken. Lots from when Gabe was brand new.

How could I possibly delete them? I had to though. What would I do? Tacky I know, but I took a picture OF them. A picture of a picture. Stupid, I know. But somehow it soothed the hoarder in me.

And here they are, in all their low-resolution, blurry & glared, glory.

Here is a photo I snapped while pushing the cart at Home Depot (incidently, where Flynn would later say was her city):











Here is a photo Flynn took of me:













Here's photos from Flynn's hospital stay over the summer, check out how swollen her forehead (between her eyes) is:




















Brand new Gabe:














Flynn, self portrait:












The tornado, just 5 miles from here,
BTW, that is a car, sitting where the upstairs of
a house USED TO BE:












This might be the most charming photo of Jeff,
I've ever seen. Here he is cleaning spilled juice from
under the oven:










Here is Flynn & her obsession with Elmo, and flip-flops:














Flynn, car seat, santa fe (man I miss that car):














And, last but not least, the two kidney stones I passed.
The first one is the one I passed 3 weeks before Gabe was born.
The 2nd one, I passed 10 days before he was born.
They're next to a dime.












So, now I feel better. I shared them. They're not just lost in the pergatory of deleted photos.

This is Mommy & Daddy...now VOTE

G-r-r-r-r-r-r-i-t

That's what Gabe has learned to do the last few days.

What started out during his high fever, has become something that must feel good to his teeth...

but it does NOT feel good to my ears.

What do I care, he's fever free & has 48 hours of antibiotics under his new leather braided belt?!

Things can only get better.

Especially when you know how to grit your teeth.

This Kid

needs to get better.

He Wins Best Effort

Not wanting to be out-done, Gabe decided to keep his fever in the 104 range last night.... just to be sure we're aware of his contribution to this 110% theme our family has.

I had the early (& much shorter) shift, with him. Hearing him twitch & shake & groan...and his little pathetic cough.

But this not before he puked (again) on Daddy.
PS How do you puke when you haven't eaten for 2 days??

And Daddy finished up the night on the floor beside Gabe's bed. Daddy might try to act like he minds, but he loves sleeping on the floor.

Either way, Gabe better start saving now, for our Mother's Day & Father's Day gifts.

Are You a Good Guesser?

Then head over to my friend, 'MCK Mama''s, blog & play her fun little contest...
I don't know personally, but I hear her prizes never disappoint.

Update: MckMama has revealed the prize, a gift cert from Happy Green Bee, a fabulous kids' organic clothing site. And this contest, man, it IS tough! She's really got us scratching our bloggy heads on this one. Go see if you know what it is.

Here at the Perry House,

when we do it, we do it allll the waaaay.

Like Gabe. He got sick yesterday. And well, he decided, that like his momma getting her review on her job & her pastor saying she puts 110% & all her heart into her job,
well, he decided he would be sick 110%.

In the matter of 24 hours, he worked his temp up to 102 (I think it was 103 this a.m.), he puked after I got him dressed, he coughed all night, and he worked himself into 2 infections (double ear + sinus infection), so the doctor wouldn't feel he'd wasted his time.

Flynn is going for Most Popular at her preschool. I have yet to do a pick-up & not have a parent say, "Oohhhhhhh, you're Flynn's Mom.... little Suzy talks about her all the time."
As if my chest needs help puffing, I admit to being the celeb's mom.
Wonder if she'll put me up in a mansion when we're older.

When Jeff's emergency brake gave out, it didn't just roll a bit. It rolled ALL THE WAY down our subdivision hill, across 2 yards & settled just mere feet in front of a neighbor's home.
Not just once.
But four times friend, four times (each time after having it "fixed").

I didn't tell you this dear internet, but this past summer, Jeff & I contributed to the annual church fourth of July variety show, because, well, we want to be supportive (code word for steal the show).
We didn't just contribute, we put on cheerleader costumes & spoofed the SNL Spartan Cheerleaders. We're that corny. We re-wrote the skit to incorporate inside church jokes about set-up, the Pastor's wife, & other slams. Also, brought down the house with a funky cold medina remix... wherein Jeff may have hollared & kicked over my head.
The skit was such a success, we were encored to do it AT CHURCH, and so, we rallied for help at our VBS through the script. This time, moments before going on, we were given wireless mics. And backstage (literally), right before our entrance, I looked at the mic pack (a pack holding batteries & the necessary mechanisms), then looked down at my lack of pockets. I was wearing a cheerleader skirt & some fitted shortys for crying out loud. So, I opted to tuck the pack safely in my waist band.
Except,
it wasn't so 'safely' tucked.
After a few kicks & double stag jumps, the mic pack had dangerously slid into the crotch of my undies.
Lordy no.
I found myself in that dangerous position I was in, where I looked down to see the toe of my shoe through my bridesmaid's dress.
I knew, that I could not jump, stag, kick, or be too terribly exciting; les my cheerleader spoof would turn into a horror skit, wherein I give birth to a mic pack.

I don't think we'll ever be accused of not giving it enough effort. We might not get the Most Improved Award, or the MVP...Going for the Hustler Hustle award.

Talk About A Freudian Slip

Might as well just let everyone go home at that point, poor guy.

Temper-Temper

My boy is all of 2. He behaves badly...just like any good two-year old.

I ran across some tips from Dr. Harvey Karp...by the way, I [heart] Dr. Karp.

Here's what he has to say about preventing meltdowns & fostering good behavior:

AVOID PROBLEM INTERACTIONS
Don't let your tod get over-hungry, overtired, over-bored, or overstimulated
(you just described holiday dinners Dr Karp)

FEED THE METER
Like putting coins into a parking meter, arrange your time to play w/ your kids in lots of little spurts thru the day. Lessening the chance he'll feel the need to explode. Play for ten, cook for ten, play for ten, launder for ten, play for ten ....
(Dr Karp never worked from home)

GOSSIP ABOUT YOUR KID
Stat: "What we overhear is five times more potent than what we are told directly." Whisper loudly in front of your kiddo, like to your hubby, like, "Gabe was SUCH a good listener today, he picked up all his toys the first time I asked."
Dr Karp says this works well with negative stuff too.
(Note to Self: Ask Dr Karp what to do if there's nothing good to report, for days - {just kidding}).

BE A BOOB
Act dorky (comes easily to-um-some-er-moms) to make your kid feel smarter. Let your tot keep a puzzle piece from you or -- let him wrestle you to the floor. Pretend to not know an obvious answer. Pick your battles, to lose lots of them & then win those BIG ones (like GET INTO YOUR CAR SEAT). Laughter, all is well in the world of toddlerdom.

PRAISE
Every time your tod does something cool or nice, draw a little check on his hand (which he might think is cool), and count the checks before bathtime. Catch him being good & reward for a supereffective way to prevent problem behavior.
(Dr Karp, what to do if said toddler is obsessive compulsive & can't handle such disorder as having marks on his hand).

I added sarcasm - but the truth is, these are great tips & come to me at a real timely part of mothering a 2-year old.

Over On My Milk Blog

Looky on the left, there's a link,
I talk about a lady who I strongly dislike right now (so much for my love theory).

You know what I really don't like?

People who AREN'T experts, but who pass themselves off as such.

Go there, you'll know what I mean.

Kinda like that attorney who was on MSNBC last year, who was complaining about the law suit wherein an allergy man was suing McDonald's for the cheese on his big mac:
"The worst a little nibble of cheese is going to do is what? give someone a stomach ache?"

Clearly she hasn't been to my blog entry where I discuss in details our big episode this summer, wherein I gave Flynn a cookie which contained a milk ingredient.

Remember How I Said That Only Certain Things Happen To Me?

I mean it. I am such a dork (circa 1993).

My BFF Heather got married in '93 - so I was 20 & dorky then too. She picked out these really pretty dresses - they were super elegant, black velvet bodice, sleeves with a slight puff (if I remember correctly), & a high waist that started a fuchsia a-line skirt. Complete with a big bow in the back (if I remember correctly). To help me get ready, my mom ironed the skirt part, which was wrinkled pretty badly.

The church was equally as beautiful. Old, stone walls...high cathedral ceilings which echoed every sound. The plan was for me to go down alone, as I was the Maid of Honor, where I would meet the Best Man at the first pew -- which led us to the two stairs leading to a raised level (platform, whatever).

I had on some sassy black bow heels, which made me all that more nervous - as I've never been a high heeled girl; especially when I'm walking down a lllllong aisle, with everyone staring at me.

So it's 'my turn' to walk down. I probably walked really fast, didn't smile, didn't look at anyone, my pits were probably sweaty, & I probably had to pee.

As I ended the aisle, I breathed a big sigh of relief, what with me not falling & all.
I took the Best Man's arm & took that first step.

Then.

RRrrrrrrrrip......(imagine the echo through that old church)

No way. That did NOT just happen.
I looked down to see the toe of my shoe TOTALLY THROUGH the bottom of the dress. Like ALL THE WAY THROUGH.
You know how sometimes a few seconds seem like AN ETERNITY?
That was one of those times.

I had to REALLY quickly figure out how to get my toe back through my dress -- and completely out of the hole, so that I could - you know - go ahead AND WALK(!).
I kinda looked at the Best Man - he looked at me (admiringly I might add, as he had a weird crush on me). I thing I muttered something like
OH LORD HELP ME.

So, I got it out & looked down at this gaping hole hanging down.

Heather comes down the aisle, in all her glory, & the minister begins the Lord's Prayer. Not one of my most reverent moments - I'll admit, but I had to point it out to her & that seemed like the perfect time.

So she busted out laughing. Then, the bridesmaid to my left started laughing AGAIN (but this time she peeed her pants).
Thy Kingdom Come... and three heads of curly up-do's were bobbing up & down in laughter.

One of my many VERY EMBARRASSING moments - that I now can laugh (& laugh & laugh) at.

Maybe if you're REALLY good, I'll track down a photo of this, scan it, & share.

I Was Always Suspicious

LUV part 2

This morning on the way to staff meeting, the 70-year old lady, in front of me on I 55 (& then later behind me), definitely did not love me.

What she did do,

was flip me off.

I sincerely have NO clue why.

But she definitely did. Once when I was behind her. And the other as I was passing her.

She worked so hard at it, that I'm certain her bony arthritic fingers are aching as we speak. And she no doubt wore herself out working so hard at it, that her afternoon nap was probably an extra hour.

LUV

“Be imitators of God, therefore, as dearly loved children and live a life of love, just as Christ loved us and gave himself up for us as a fragrant offering and sacrifice to God.” (Ephesians 5:1-2)

That scripture was provided by my verse o' the day on my side bar...

over there (imagine arrow).

I've been thinking lots. About my personality. My demeanor (sometimes vicious if I may confess).

The fact that I've always prided myself on my honesty, frankness, crudeness, (do I have to keep going?).

First of all, it's not that great to be prideful about anything...but especially those things. yikes.

What must I give up, for God to work in my life?

Read yesterday's post. I was angry. I wanted revenge. Granted, my feelings were valid, and I felt responsibility for my family, but why couldn't I just go to sleep & let it go?

Do I love enough? Let me say, my life oozes with love. I don't need to mention again how much I love my husband. And I love my kids so much it hurts. And you wouldn't believe how much I love all children. The kids at church, I'd do anything for.

And I love food too, in case you hadn't noticed.

But do I live a life of love?

Do I? Really?

So, do I show love everywhere I go? All the time? To everyone? EveryONE?

I think what I make the mistake of doing, pretty commonly actually, is pick & choose what I want to obey out of the bible. You know, the easy ones, like not killing people (altho I considered it yesterday morning, see previous post), and going to church (kinda my job), oh yah-and the one about not fornicating -- I don't do that. But what about the hard ones... like loving. Oh boy, just talking about the changes I need to make ... I'm starting to squint my left eye up like a pirate.

But self, this is not optional.

And if there was one thing that Jesus did all the time, to everyone, all of the time, it was love.

Why Am I Up at 4 a.m.?

I'm furious. Mostly because it's too late now to even go back to sleep. I realize that this won't buy me much sympathy from my insomniac sister who is up this time each day for no good reason.

The other bulk of my anger is due to the fact that my small children are trying to sleep & that that fact plays no hindrance on the partying next door.

Six years ago when Jeff & I were househunting, there were a lot of places we could've bought. Well, there weren't that many, but a few choices.
We chose this subdivision to build in.
A subdivision...
LOTS & LOTS of negatives - no privacy, everyone can see your comings & goings. Not a lot of originality or expression -- homes look pretty much alike. Etc., etc.
BUT, those negatives are outweighed (we thought) by the protection & rules provided by organized neighborhood association.

WRONG-O.

At 3 a.m. Jeff had had enough. He got up, went into the livingroom, looked out the bay window & called the cops. There were about 10 or so cars lining our cul-de-sac, 2 in front of our yard. Music was blaring from the next door neighbor's home. Flynn cried out, not completely awake, but her REM disturbed by the ruckus. He reports the noise. Hangs up. More noise, no cops. 10 minutes later, no cops. People (looking to be early 20s) are leaving this house, armfuls of six packs, getting into cars, & driving away...loudly. A kid cuts across the corner of our lawn, on his drunken route to his piece of crap (& loud) car, obviously intoxicated, singing rap lyrics as loud as his pubescent voice can carry. The proverbial straw was him dropping the "N" word (nothing could make me madder) as he somehow (in a slurred state) was able to remember these song lyrics word for word.
I picked up the phone, told the dispatcher that my husband had called 10 mins prior & that these kids were getting into cars, drunk, driving away. I told him how a truck was about to leave as we were speaking... the driver stood there in the subdivision street, pealing paper off of something (beer bottle, pack of cigarettes?), just dropping it in the road, as if HE'D paid subdivision fees for the roads to be regularly plowed & cleaned. The dispatcher asked for a description of the truck. Like what does that matter? -- whenever the officer didn't show up for another 10 minutes...the truck was LONG gone, with about 4 other kids inside.
When the po po did finally arrive (sorry to Cousin Sarah if you're reading this & feel I'm being derrogative to officers like your dear husband), he knocked on their door, muttered something, then about five more cars left.
But you know who didn't leave? This obnoxious yellow neon, with a retarded spoiler on the back. Who obviously belongs to the boyfriend of the daughter (one of the renters) of the man who owns the home. Who just now, went to his car in a huff. Started it (has one of those REALLY LOUD MOTORS). And then had her follow, upset that he was leaving. She stands at the passenger window (the side closest to my children's windows) & yells for him to open the door. He doesn't. So she yells again, "Open the effing door!" Okay, my blood is starting to boil at this point. Then she starts to knock on the window so hard I'm sure that either its cheap windows are going to crack, or her knuckles will bleed. She yells for him to come inside. His response to her was to REV HIS MOTOR so loud & hard that I'm quite sure his car is broken.
That's when I had reach my breaking point. You know, the point where you excuse yourself from any responsibility of any irrational thing you say or do for the next few minutes.
I ran into the room & grabbed my Old Navy DISCO MAMA GROOVE KITTY pj pants (bcuz I'm tough like that), decided to skip a bra & jacket & was headed for the door. That's when my rational husband, who God purposely paired up with a UNlevelly headed wife, literally hopped into his pj pants & stopped me. "I'll go honey."
It was probably best, he was calm & walked up to the previously mentioned matchbox car & stood there until the punk opened his window. Jeff just said, "COULD YOU PLEASE KEEP. IT. DOWN.??" The boy dropped his head & muttered sorry. He turned off his motor right away & sat in his car for a few minutes, then retreated back into his bloody-knuckled girlfriend's parent's house.
I haven't heard a peep from the house since.

BUT because I get really upset about things, then don't get calmed down (see my high blood pressure problem), I couldn't go back to sleep. Plus -- like right now it's 5:20 -- what good would it do for me to go back to sleep now? To sleep ONE hour?

I'm furious at these kids. Sure, I was a kid once. Went to parties. Stayed up all night. Was silly. TP'ed a few houses. But, why should MY FAMILY's rest (& safety if you ask me), be affected because these kids can afford to rent a home next to mine?

Oh, by the way, we're not just talking about tonight. I forgot to mention that there has been AT LEAST ONE PARTY PER WEEKEND for the LAST 4 MONTHS. Most of the parties, I don't hear unless I'm up with the kids. Or there are lots of car doors slamming.
But this was probably the third time I've called the cops. And probably the 6th time we've lost sleep.

And it's usually a Sat nite. Not a big deal to some but Sundays are my 'big' work day. I get my family up early & we're out the door by 8:15ish to get to church before 9. THAT's my work. To be nice to people & smile & be supportive to volunteers & greet new guests at church & sometimes talk from the stage & try to remember names & teach kids & be ON THE BALL.

My first instinct was that at about 7 a.m., I would move my mini van in front of their driveway & lay on the horn. But I don't want to punish my other neighbors. Plus, that's just vengeance & altho feels good temporarily, will gain us nothing.

My second thought is to go over there one day this week & talk to them. NOT ABOUT THEIR PARTYING but to ask for the dad's phone number (who is still very vested as he was there a month ago putting up Christmas lights). I think he'd be quite interested to know what's going on...and if nothing else I could bring him up to speed on his known responsibilities for his property & the [another less used word for responsibilities] that brings.
I'm sure these girls know now that we're pretty ticked & might not be willing to cough up a phone number. So there will have to be some grand idea I'll have to think of before that.

For now, I'm fuming mad. My Irish-red cheeks are aglow & there's only one thing to do at a time like this...

laundry.

OPERATION: Dinner Surprise a Surprise!

For Jeff's bday, I had a surprise dinner planned for almost a month.
All I told him was to dress up, take the kids to my parents' & come back 'for me'.

Yesterday, while he was at work, I prepared as much of it as I could. Made the pesto sauce, tossed the salad, marinaded the steak. I had to hide all of this as he was home about an hour yesterday between work & leaving with the kiddos.

He thought he was coming back to pick me up... instead he found me waiting (dressed up!) with course 1 (of 5), sitting on the table. We had fancy dinnerware & linens (Thanks to the Caseys), flowers & candlelight, & Jeff's favorite, steak, simmering in the broiler. I planned an hour long playlist of songs perfect for the occasion.

Jeff was very surprised & after a movie (complete with tv trays for dessert, something we never do with the kids around!), I gave him a gift from me, a subscription to '90-Minute Soccer', which he loved. The movie was 'License to Wed' (I highly recommend, very cute -- and HOW COME NO ONE TOLD US?, had 5 of THE OFFICE actors in it).

He was surprised & had thought I was taking him to see Wicked at the Fox. He said it was his best birthday ever. Everyone, all together now, "Aaawwwwww."

Other news, after baking a batch of chocolate cookies, I was doing a deep sweep -- like moving furniture & stuff. Interesting things I found: an alphabet marker, 2 pieces to lite brite, 2 crayons, a slinky, a fork, a matching game, & a marble from hungry-hungry hippos.

We miss the kids & Nana will be bringing them home momentarily. Flynn has a Princess Tea Party to go to. Again with this kid having a social life.

Photos to come...as soon as we find the camera.

Also to come... Gabe's first night in a big boy bed. Will it happen? Will we survive? Will he??

Happy Birthday JD!

The double 3's!

Another chance for me to thank you for being the best husband, most wonderful father... and best friend I could've ever imagined. I know I say it too often, but truly, I had to have done something right in the middle of all those mistakes, for God to have rewarded me with you.

I hope this year brings you lots of joy.... no debt... no sickness... and more happiness than you thought possible.

So enjoy your day today...be nice to your students...and anticipate your surprise birthday evening...I won't disappoint.

Happy Birthday,
I love you.

SAYONARA 2007

Omigosh, where does the time go & why does it go so quickly?

Jeff & I were so busy going as many places as we could, without the hindrances of car seats & telling a certain little boy not to lick the handle on the target cart, we didn't talk about this past year.

I think while you have small children, the biggest mistake you make is to not slow down... to not sit down & play. It's always running out the door to dance, to a doctor's appointment, to work, to a party. It's always 'no Momma can't play right now, I've got to fold these clothes', or 'make a phone call' or 'vacuum'.

After our relaxing break, we barely yielded back into the fast lane. Today was our first official back into the swing of things & we were gone most of it.

So, this is my ode to reflection - and thinking of this past year & what it meant to us.

The year started out with sick kids. And Jeff on the mend from his emergency appendectomy. Then, he lost his grandma. Then -- a miracle for the St. Louis area, Shawn Hornbeck & Ben Ownby were found, & returned home to start restoring their young lives.

We found out my aunt was cancer free & rejoiced in that. The kids saw their first movie.

We went to the zoo, to the Science Center, fell in love with Bambi.

We got a "new" playset, was 'promoted' to the position I currently hold, had a great Egg hunt, Flynn started Dancing School.

Went to Grant's Farm, inherited a swimming pool, had a terrible scare with Flynn & an accidental exposure to an "unsafe" cookie.

We celebrated our Cinqo de Anniversary @ a B & B...a complete surprise for me by my romantic hubby.

Bubs got his first Big Boy haircut, we enjoyed yet another wonderful trip to the Beach.

We went camping, Bubs turned 2 (& gave up his beloved Binks). We enjoyed a Cardinal's baseball game.

Flynn started soccer, I made a big butt of myself at a US Women's soccer game, we camped again (& had yet another close call). We trick or treated with the best of them...as a princess & her frog.

Flynn turned 4, we were thankful at Thanksgiving. Flynn officially started preschool.

We were caught up in the merriment of the season, Santa visited us, we were thankful that God sent us His son Jesus, celebrated His birth, & are thankful once again that God has brought us through yet another year.

We anticipate what this year, 2008, will hold for us. The excitement, the growth, the changes, the opportunities.

Our family is not perfect -- pretty far from it actually.

But find freedom in Christ,

“... as for me and my house, we will serve the Lord.”
Joshua 24:15

Oh yeah,

Happy New Year!