Curbside Shopping

Can you believe someone put this on the curb for trash pick-up?!

Fine by us, Jeff simply knocked on the door, told them we were picking it up, said thank you, went & got a new tank, made several delicious dinners since then.

They upgraded.

So did we.

Thank goodness for upgrades.

Gabe's Profile

GABE Loves his binky

Hates having his diaper changed

Bubby Could Be a Big Brother

I just heard several of you read that & gasp.

No, I'm not pregnant, nor will I be (less the vans deferans tubes decide to play a cruel joke on us & fuse back together)....

But today is May 25th.

3 days ago Gabe turned 21 mos.

This is the exact age Flynn was when I gave birth to her baby brother.

Can you imagine? Knowing Gabe, can you see him as a big-anything?

It kinda puts it in perspective, just how old (or young rather) Flynn was when she was no longer the baby.

It's scary too. But if you asked Flynn she wouldn't have it any other way.

And neither would Bubs.

Flynn's Profile

LOVES her soy milk

HATES spending time at home

Cuteness

It's a very busy day today.... the usual, dishes, laundry, dirty behinds....
But, I always have a few minutes to jot down some cute things about the kids...

• Gabe's new thing is kisses on the cheek. I'm so glad he's inclined to go for the cheek, as she sometimes forgets & plants smooches on loved one's lips (icky). This used to be random, but now at request, he takes a long lean over & strategically lands a love on our jaw. I'd pay $100 for one of those.
• Flynn has taken to being chummy with friends on playdates & such. Yesterday, at a church playgroup, she took a liking to our friend Savanah, who she fondly called SABANA, the whole time. SaBana took her down the slide, swung her, and followed her around like a Mother Hen. When we were leaving, Flynn said, "Maybe I could go over to Sabana's & play today." yeah right.
• Gabe hit his head REALLY hard today, while we were out playing. I actually heard his skull hit the wood. And while I expected to see lots & lots of blood, I scooped him up & ran inside to get ice. What was he most upset about? He screamed & bucked & swung at me & swung at Sissy, cuz by golly, HE WAS TICKED OFF THAT HE HAD TO COME INSIDE.
• Flynn learned Sunday, about God's everlasting presence; their lesson was in the book of Joshua. She's never talked so much about what she's learned at church... and the whole ride home Sunday evening (from Aunt G's house), she told me, "Mommy, God's with us. We don't have to be scared. He's always here. He never leaves us." She fell asleep talking about it. Isn't that a great way to nod off?....talking about the Lord's presence?

Shave & a Haircut...

Get Lost.

I was not completely satisfied with the hairdresser I'd been going to for the last couple of years. So, I started looking at some local friends' hairdos, and asking who they saw. So, a girl in my MOPS group has great hair, lives here in town, & I figured she probably wasn't the unreasonable type to spend too much money.
So, I got the salon name, the hairdresser's name, and called asap to make an appointment.
Since I don't get to get pampered in that manner, once every 4-6 months, I always plan it around a date or wedding or some other occasion where I'd like to look decent.
So, I scheduled it before E's brother's wedding & started counting the days to having straight hair for a night.

Two months later, when I arrange to leave the kids & go get 'perty', I drive up to the salon to see it dark inside & a note on the door. My heart sank. The shop had been closed.
Do I listen to reason?....do I drive away & accept that perhaps it was best for me?

No. I get out of my car to read the paper, and I see that "Barb" (name NOT changed) is now at Infinity, which was described to be a block away.

When I pulled into the parking lot, and saw it sitting RIGHT NEXT to a tattoo parlor, I should've just kept going. But I was desperate. I needed some glam. So I parked & went inside. Even despite my detour, I was still exactly on time. So I walked in, explained that I actually had an appointment at the "closed" place, and could Barb fit me in?

Miraculously, Barb had kept my appointment. But didn't emerge from the perm she was doing, until 5:20. My hatred for tardiness just makes me a better teacher, so I don't excuse it. Especially when I am a patron.

So she finally brings me back. I had two pictures.... not a lot shorter than my current hairstyle, but more layers, as I was hoping to have the option of fixing my hair like Farah Fawcett (I know, I know). But TWO PICTURES. So how hard could it be? Really, it just required of her, that she cut more layers, then fix it right.

Some background on her. She looked to be in her 60s. She looked good for her age. And looked like she worked out, ate well. But still, lady, you're in your 60s. And if my mom ever dresses like this, I will barf. And the whole time I talked to her, and showed her things about my hair, she only looked at her OWN reflection. It was bizarre. And it was love. (her love for herself).

So, she winds me through the smokey smelling "salon" to a couple of sinks in the back cozies up RIGHT NEXT to a nail station. PS She never put a cape on my to wash my hair. And no towel under my neck, etc. She spent the whole time she was shampooing, chatting with the nail tech. She wasn't even looking at me, and was spraying the side of my face. And, at one point she said, "Oops, that was the third time I shampooed you." So clearly, I was not the object of her focus.

Next (& after seeing how ditzy she was I should've retracted my appointment for the wax), she waxes my brows (which later showed to be COMPLETELY UNEVEN). Then led me back to her station for the haircut (by this time it was 6, remember, my appointment was 5). And as soon as she start combing out my hair, her next appointment came in. She acknowledged them, just as she had acknowledged EVERY SINGLE person who walked through the door. She even turned her direction away from me (when I was mid-sentence) to talk to a person who came in.

Next, she begins scissorhands....she cuts...and cuts...and even though I told her less than 1/2" (I somehow have decently healthy hair), I see strands of 3-4" falling into the floor. I told her that altho I wanted to be glam for the day, the next 90 days I'd be wearing a ponytail, so please make sure that the shortest layer will stay back in a ponytail (yet today, 2.5 wks later, I have a strand tucked behind my ear).

Then, she's done cutting & gets out a blow dryer. She's talking to other people, looking at herself, and half hazardly blowing & using her FINGERS to pull on my hair...when I reminded her that I'd need the hair to be smooth for the style. I told her that I use a large paddle brush & a chi iron to smooth my hair. She said, "Using your fingers is just as good." But I don't need my cosmo cert to know that makes separeted & curly hair.

So, after she'd pulled out 1/2 my hair w/ her fingers, and greeted everyone who entered, she looked at my reflection & said, "So, what do you think?" I couldn't believe it. It was frizzy & she hadn't even tried to fix it. And the whole back was still wet (which meant spiral curls when it would dry, on its own).

I said, "I'm sure I'll like it once it's been fixed."

So then she takes out a curling iron & he ho hems around about hating that particular iron. And it starts to stink, she comments on the smell, then takes a section of my hair & "attempts" to curl it. She acted like she was either paralyzed, or had never used an iron before. It was awful. Then she leaned over & peered at the picture & made a comment at how it looked like my hair.
Remember the Friends episode where Monica's hair is frizzy?...well, imagine that toned down a bit, with a curling iron curl on the side.

It looked STUPID.

And I could see it on her face. She knew the next appointment was getting impatient (because by this time it was 6:30), and that she'd have to wrap it up with me EVEN THOUGH SHE WASN'T EVEN CLOSE TO GETTING MY HAIR TO LOOK LIKE THE PHOTOS.

So she says, "Well, I'd fix it for you, but then I'd have to charge you for a hairdo.... and that's a lot."

I just wanted out of there. Otherwise, I would've argued with her that I wanted one, and that I hated my hair, etc.

When I got home, I realized that she'd charged me for a blow dry (an extra $3), even though my hair was sopping wet in the back.

Lessons learned: Don't get your hair cut next to a tattoo parlor. If you show up for your appointment, and the place is closed, don't persue it, Just accept God's advice & go home.

My Mantra

Can mantra be synonym to excuse?
Either way, here's a cute poem...

Some houses try to hide that fact

That children shelter there.

Ours boasts of it quite openly--

The signs are everywhere.

For smears are on the windows,

Little smudges on the doors.

I should apologize, I guess,

For toys strewn on the floor.

But I sat down with the children

And we played and laughed and read.

And if the bathtub doesn't shine

Their eyes will shine instead.

For when, at times,

I'm forced to choose

The one job or the other,

I want to have a lovely house,

But first I'll be a mother.

--Author Unknown

FOOD ALLERGY WEEK

Last week was food allergy week.

So I figured I'd lift some facts from another blog & post them, for all to see.

Here goes...

13 Facts about Food Allergies:

1. Scientists are reporting an increase in food allergies over the past decade. In particular, peanut allergies among young children doubled between 1997 and 2002.

2. Approximately 12 million Americans suffer from food allergies, with 6.9 million allergic to seafood and 3.3 million allergic to peanuts or tree nuts.

3. Food allergy is the leading cause of anaphylaxis (a severe allergic reaction) outside the hospital setting.

4. Eight foods account for 90% of all reactions in the U.S.: milk, eggs, peanuts, tree nuts (walnuts, almonds, cashews, pistachios, pecans, etc.), wheat, soy, fish, and shellfish.

5. There is no cure for food allergy. Strict avoidance of the allergy-causing food is the only way to prevent a reaction.

6. Food allergic reactions result in over 30,000 emergency room visits each year.

7. It is estimated that between 150 and 200 people die annually from anaphylaxis to food; including children and young adults.

8. Approximately 2.2 million school-aged children have food allergy.

9. One in every 17 children under the age of 3 has food allergy.

10. Milk allergy is one of the most common in young infants, with 2-3% of children under three years of age allergic to cow's milk proteins.

11. Trace amounts of a food allergen can cause a reaction. Patients should be on guard for hidden ingredients (such as milk or peanuts) in unsuspected places such as candy, baked goods, trail mixes, sauces, desserts, and gravies, just to name a few.

12. Medications can even contain dairy (Prevacid Solutabs is one example).

13. Virtually all infants who develop cow's milk allergy do so in the first year of life, with about 80% ‘outgrowing' their milk allergy by their fifth birthday. Nearly 25% of these milk-allergic infants retain their sensitivity into the second decade of life, and 35% go on to develop other food allergies.

Putting You out of Your Misery

Oh for crying out loud people...

Here's my quizzie poo & the answers (since no one seems to know me very well except Hannah & Linda)...

Question #1
What day did Jeff propose to me?
May 1st
March 22nd
January 4th
April 1st

Question #2
What's my favorite color?
orange
pink
blue
periwinkle

Question #3
What was the name of the boyfriend I had at 16?
Matt
Jack
Scott
Jason

Question #4
What was my first college major?
nursing
teaching
advertising management
macro economics

Question #5
What boy band autographed my pregnant stomach?
hanson
jars of clay
n'sync
barenaked ladies

Question #6
What did I surprise Jeff with at our wedding?
a song
an engraved ring
his long lost aunt nancy from japan
a tattoo bearing his name, across my bosom

Question #7
If I could change anything, what would I change?
the war
flynn's allergy
the size of our humble abode
my breasts

Question #8
My favorite book in the bible...
Matthew
Jeremiah
Daniel
Proverbs

Question #9
One surgery that I'd have in a heartbeat...
breast
lyposuction
eye
facelift

Question #10
Number of kids I always wanted?
4
1
3
2

There. Now, I feel all better.

BFF & other people

We recently went to a wedding of BFF Elizabeth's baby brother. When we were in third grade, her mom had her baby brother, which seemed so cool. I wanted a baby brother. But that wasn't an option. So I thought she was even cooler.

Anyway, here are some of the photos from the reception...

Could my husband be ANY HOTTER? My gosh.

This Charlie's Angels pose was long overdue.... after 20-something years of friendship, why hadn't we thought of it sooner? Too bad my egg-shaped dress makes me look pregnant... NO!, I'm not pregnant (I'd have some "serious 'splainin to do to Jeff." Altho -- look at him! -- I'd love to have another one of his babies.

In third grade, E invited me to her b'day party, that's when we started becoming good friends, but she moved in 5th grade to Arkansas.

Heather & I became BFF in 4th grade, while in girl scouts together.

E moved back from AR our sophomore year. Things were a little rocky, we got a little competitive, a little like the Heathers movie.

But here it is 15+ years later...

I think we've worked out our differences.

My Wishes are Granted

The other day when I was looking at old posts, to confirm that I had indeed been vomitted upon last year, I ran across a post including my wishlist. For whatever reason.





Anyway, I read it & chucked, as God has answered nearly all of those wishes, here they are...





5.12.2006

My Wishlist
1. A level backyard, perfect to play in this is partially answered, as we had a 20x20 spot cleared, and are in the process of getting a super cool playset finished up


2. A year of good health (well, a lifetime of health would be great) Yay! For the most part, my ailments were gone, too bad it was Jeff that opted for weird stuff last year


3. My babies to LOVE sleep Well, they don't LOVE it, but do usually sleep the nite thru


4. A self-cleaning house with a couple more bedrooms & a FULL basement not this year at least


5. A work-from-home job CHECK! My new gig at church allows me to work about 1/2 of my 20 hours from here


6. A better ear for hearing God's voice God would have to comment on this one


7. A good working back On my way to that... maybe the shots will help


8. A good working lawn mower CHECK! Thanks to the IL's


9. Energy & desire to clean the house DESIRE?, no. ENERGY?, a little more this year, since I'm not the Perry Dairy, having every ounce of nutrients sucked from my body


10. A smaller butt Um, no, & that's all I'll say about that

This was March...You can ALMOST see the rainbow thru the trees, it was a full rainbow (which I'm sure they all are, but you typically can't see the whole thing), but I could only get the one side on the camera.

Good Day for Ducks

Got more shots. What a pain in the butt (literally). But sometimes the things that we need kinda hurt at first.

And Turdburg again. This time poopy footprints down the hall. Seriously.

And here's some pics from the Mom's Day breakfast at church...

Keeping With Tradition

We here at the Perry household, have lots of traditions...

• making muffins on weekends


• church on Sundays


• praying every night


• puking on Mom on Mother's Day

Keeping up with our annual Mother's Day PukeFest, Flynn vommitted twice yesterday. Just like last year.

But we still managed to squeeze in MY GIFT, looky-looky at my prides & joys...

You've Outclassed Them All!

Her clothes are well-made and elegant, and she always faces tomorrow with a smile.

When she speaks she has something worthwhile to say, and she always says it kindly.

She keeps an eye on everyone in her household, and keeps them all busy and productive.

Her children respect and bless her; her husband joins in with words of praise:

"Many women have done wonderful things, but you've outclassed them all!"

Charm can mislead and beauty soon fades.

The woman to be admired and praised is the woman who lives in the Fear-of-God.

Give her everything she deserves! Festoon her life with praises!

Proverbs 31:25-31 (The MESSAGE)

Mommy Dearest

Again this year, I'm excited to be a mommy & have a special day for us.

And to also celebrate the Mom I have... all she did & sacrificed for us growing up....and all she continues to do.

And to my MIL, who raised her little boy, to become an incredible man, who became a fabulous husband & unbelievable daddy.

And to them both, for being the most awesome grandmothers that my kids could have ever asked for. God hand chose you to be role models & guardian angels for my babies.

And another opportunity for me to thank God for my beautiful kiddos.
I do get somewhat sentimental this time of year as it is when the baby we lost would've been born. I have to give thanks for that life too -- the short time I knew about the baby growing inside of me, lent me the insight once again on the preciousness of having children. And reminded me of the shortness of life, and miracle of birth, the blessing of health.

We should be so thankful everyday...

Happy Mother's Day!

Deep Thoughts 5

Flynn: Mommy, Remember last day (yesterday), when Grammy came over?

Mommy: Yes

Flynn: That was really fun.

Let's Hear it for 'Roids!

No, I don't mean hemorrhoids...
I mean steroids.

I've been having some hip/leg issues, which I assumed stemmed from the horrid back pain I've lived with most of my life (which had manifested itself once again, the past few weeks).

Finally, forcing itself to be seen, my leg had started doing this fabulous, as well as entertaining, trick.
I would be walking (or hobbling) across the floor, when suddenly, my leg would give out; sending me plummeting toward the ground. Painful?, yes. Stupid?, yes. Pretty darn funny?, yes.
Usually when this would happen, Jeff would yell, "SNIPER!"

The pain I had been in was awful. My back, my hip and my leg, were all keeping me from dancing with the kids (well, okay, it didn't keep me from dancing all the time), but sometimes it was so bad, all I could do was collapse in the recliner. Well, that, and watch the first series of GILMORE GIRLS on dvd (thank you Kim!).

So, I went to the doctor. After a lovely & head-pounding MRI. The good news is that the MRI showed NO bulging discs, no degenerative discs, no tiny people living in my back.
However, I have bursitis (not as bad as it sounds) in my hip.
The doctor's diagnosis was a cortisone shot in my hip, some good strong drugs (YES!), more shots next week in my back (pinched sciatica), then some manly stretching at therapy (YES!).
Did the shots hurt bad? Yes. But I did pass 2 kidney stones (one the size of Utah) 10 days before pushing Gabe's giant noggin from my loins. So, a large, long needle being stabbed into my hip bone was really nothin'. Not to mention, knowing it was going to rid me of some of my pain was all the inspiration I needed.

So, I had a horrible night. So the drugs did nothing but make me want to puke up the raw cookie dough that Jeff & I shared at 10:00 while watching MILLIONAIRE.

But when I woke up feeling like an 80-year old who had just undergone a hip replacement!!! It made me want to run outdoors, jump on my rascal, & challenge my young friends Ethel, Norman, & Helen to a rousing game of shuffleboard!

I want to shout it in the streets! I can walk across the floor with no pain! Woohoo! Bring on the salsa lessons! (can we Jeff??) Sign me up for a marathon! (okay, so first I'd have to be on Dr Phil's obesity show to shed these extra 45 lbs).

I said all that to say, "Friends & family, I'm feeling much better. I can only imagine after next week's shots. I'll be 100%!"

Disclaimer: last night's meds are probably still in effect, hence my lack of coherence & sense.

TOP TEN TUESDAY

TEN THINGS I'VE LEARNED FROM GABE...

10. Bald is beautiful

9. Weight is not necessarily a measure of health

8. There is absolutely nothing wrong with looking like an olive atop a toothpic

7. The nickname, Bubby, really does stick

6. It really IS funny to throw your food on the floor

5. The high chair is a really relaxing place to nod off

4. Papa is #1

3. So is Daddy

2. The nursery at church is no fun at all

And...the #1 thing I've learned from Gabe is....

1. Talking is overrated! (& for girls)

You Are Now Entering Turdburg

Some people have their morning coffee.... they can't function til they've had a cup.

I have

my computer.

There are some days where I don't talk to anyone taller than 3 feet. So, my outlet is my computer. Spending five minutes here & there makes me feel like the walls surrounding my little abode, are a wee bit bigger than they actually are.

So, this morning, I stumbled into the livingroom, eyes still crusty, back still stiff, and I plunked down into the office chair.
Gabe was wide awake, he had been playing for a while when I 'rescued' him from his bed. So he had no interest in cuddling.

So, I engrossed myself in the computer. Finding out a bit about the world, the newest on Anna Nicole's baby-daddy-saga (not really), checking my favorite blogs....
when here comes Gabe, barreling down the hall, eyes twinkling like he's won a prize.

I just smiled at him & returned my focus to the monitor.

When then, I felt him drop it on my bare leg.

IT

was

a

turd.

Yep, a small ball of poop.

Now, I'm legally blind, so sometimes my eyes don't focus correctly.
But yep, after giving them a good rubbing, I concurred that indeed, my eyes were focused enough to see that I did have feces on my leg.

A good mom would think nothing of a little poopoo on her leg. She'd reach down & take it to the toilet. But not me. I stared at it. And I screamed. And then I started barking orders,
"Get me a kleenex!!"
"No, get me a wet wipe!!"

Then what followed was similar to a circus. You could call it Cirque de BM. Flynn trying to find the wipes, then taking the boxes of tissue off the box of wipes. Then trying to get the box open. All while I'm screaming, "WHERE IS THIS POOP FROM???"

After the doodoo had been removed from leg, I went into detective mode.
Just where did this mysterious turd come from?
You would assume it was Gabe who blessed me with the gift of brown...but he had footed pjs on.

So, I went on a hunt. No poo or hint of it anywhere. Flynn offered that she thought the turd was from "the hallway." Gabe just looked at me when I asked where he got it.
I was in a panic.

We never did find out for sure. Flynn still sleeps in a diaper as I have not even begun to work with her on staying dry all night...and part of her wake up routine is for her to take off her diaper & put on underwear. So, this poo mystery could've been best solved had I witnessed her diaper.

So, for now, I'll just spray the entire wall-to-wall carpet with Lysol.

Driver's License

I'd imagine that I'll be a little more nervous when she strarts driving a 'real' car.

But I'm not sure she'll be.

Aren't hand-me-downs so much fun?

Flynn's cousin Conner has passed this down to her, as he's now a big kindergartener & his long legs are needing taller things to ride on, like 4-wheelers & stuff.

Clouds

Deuteronomy 33:26 "There is no one like the God of Jeshurun,

who rides on the heavens to help you

and on the clouds in his majesty.
27 The eternal God is your refuge,

and underneath are the everlasting arms.

(these were taken from the backyard)

This is called 'God's Hands', someone sent this one to me.

TOP TEN TUES.: Ten Things I've Learned from Flynn

10. Being THREE instead of TWO really is better for all parties involved.

9. Potty training really does take over a year.

8. Daddy's girls are best.

7. You can be both a tomboy AND a princess.

6. Brown eyes are best.

5. Itsy-Bitsy Spider is a vital part of dance class.

4. Tackling life with zest, is the funnest way.

3. No one is a stranger (so much for "stranger danger").

2. Braids are all the rage.

And the #1 thing I've learned from Flynn...

1. Bubby is cute, cuz he's sooooooooooooooo cute.

My Grandpa Used to Pronounce Mondays as "Mundys"

Here is my current fav on the radio (at least 'til they play it too many times, like they're bound to do)...

Music Video Codes By Music Jesus.com

Sandal Pledge

My Mom just sent this to me.


And I'll comply,


with the exception of the pedicures,


I simply can not slip that into the budget...


But I'll work on keeping them just as good


as the little Asian ladies who work at our local salon.





Be sure to check out the pic at the end! You won't be sorry.





All right Ladies and Gentlemen , it's that time of year once again!!!


SPRING has arrived...and I think we need to be reminded of a few things.


So to my sisters , brothers, girlfriends, boyfriends, etc.:

PLEASE, repeat after me below ...

The Open Toed Shoe Pledge

As a member of the Cute Girl Sisterhood, I pledge to follow the Rules whenwearing sandals and other open-toe shoes:

I promise to always wear sandals that fit.

My toes will not hang over and touch the ground, nor will my heels spill over the backs.

And the sides and tops of my feet will not pudge out between the straps.

I will go polish-free or vow to keep the polish fresh, intact andchip-free.

I will not cheat and just touch up my big toe.

I will sand down any mounds of skin before they turn hard and yellow.

I will shave the hairs off my big toe.

I won't wear pantyhose even if my misinformed girlfriend, coworker, mother, sister tells me the toe seam really will stay under my toes if I tuck it there.

If a strap breaks, I won't duct-tape, pin, glue or tuck it back into place hoping it will stay put.

I will get my shoe fixed or toss it.

I will not live in corn denial; rather I will lean on my good friend Dr. Scholl's if my feet need him.

I will resist the urge to buy jelly shoes at Payless for the low, low priceof $4.99 even if my feet are small enough to fit into the kids' sizes.

This is out of concern for my safety, and the safety of others. No one can walkproperly when standing in a pool of sweat and I would hate to take someonedown with me as I fall and break my ankle.

I will take my toe ring off toward the end of the day if my toes swell and begin to look like Vienna sausages. I love that part, it reminds me of pregnancy.

I will be brutally honest with my girlfriend/sister/coworker when she asks me if her feet are too ugly to wear sandals. Someone has to tell her thather toes are as long as my fingers and no sandal makes creepy feet lookgood.

I will promise if I wear flip flops that I will ensure that they actually flip and flop, making the correct noise while walking and I will swear NOT to slide or drag my feet while wearing them.

I will promise to go to my local nail salon at least once per season and have a real pedicure (they are about $20- $30 and worth EVERY penny).

I will promise to throw away any white/off-white sandals that show signs of wear... nothing is tackier than dirty white sandals.

Can you follow that pledge?

It's for everyone's best interest.

Really.

Dads Rule, Moms Drool

Flynn was watching her daddy outside. He's been slaving away, working at rebuilding a playset that was given to us by Flynn's girl cousins.
I've taught her to admire him. Always admonishing all that he does. For the days that he's been working at this, I've commented,
"Daddy is working hard for you guys to have a fun playset. He's such a good daddy that he's doing that for you."
And for a little added guilt...
"Not all Daddies do things like that. Your Dad is special."
So she chimed in,
"He's strong."
"Yep, he is strong."
"Why is he strong?"
"Because that's how God made Him. God made Daddies strong."
"He is so strong. He is stronger than you. He's stronger than you Mom."
And when I wouldn't reply...
"MOM, he's stronger than you."
"Yep Flynn, he's stronger than me."

Then, the other day, the kids were playing with marbleworks, my most recent & awesome garage sale purchase. I admit, no clue, no clue how to assemble the thing. I tried, but it all looked very confusing.
"Flynn you'll have to wait 'til Daddy gets home to figure this out."
"Dad's smart."
"Yes, Daddy's very smart."
"Mom, Daddy's smart...but you're not."

Sweet Sixteen

A little belated birthday wish to my favorite FIRST niece.

Hannah is very special. First of all, she is my prized babysitter. Anyone who can care for my kids all while playing with them, is a star in my book.

Second of all, she is a reference while trying to get Flynn to eat, "Don't you want to grow up to be tall like Hannah?"

Third of all, she is so darned cute. Bias aside, she is just plain beautiful....inside & out. She has a strong faith & will reach many one day when she is a missionary.

Happy Birthday Hannah!

DISCLAIMER to everyone who has had a b'day & hasn't gotten a b'day shout-out from my blog... I just can't. So please accept my general rule of bloggie thumb, SWEET SIXTEEN BLOG SHOUTS ONLY. I'm only human. ;)

Musical Parade

This morning on the kids' favorite show, Curious George, the "Man With the Yellow Hat" was a part of a band... like high school (not garage band).... there was a tuba, some maracas, & I believe a xylaphone... you know, what every good band is made up of.

George eventually got to join this band. Which delighted my kids. Lord, George could do no wrong.

Anyway, the tv is off & now the kids are parading through the house. Flynn has a shakey drum (which was a souvenier Indian thingy which I slide the stick off becuz I'm afraid someone could lose an eye) suspended from a pair of tongs. Gabe's contribution to the musical parade is a backpack on wheels (don't ask).

Flynn leads the parade with, "A'one, A'two, A'three...."

Have I mentioned how much I love being here with them??...

On a different note, a baby girl named Sophia needs your prayer. She was born early with a ton of complications & right now it's touch & go. Her praying parents also covet your prayer. This family attends church w/ my BF Heather.

Allergy Article

Step on over to my milk allergy blog & check out an article I recently read.
It not only drives home some of my fears, but makes me nearly wet my pants when I think about Flynn attending public school.
All the more need for us to pray that she outgrows this.

I Stand Corrected

Actually, the name of the world's shortest poem is not ANTS.
It is FLEAS....

FLEAS

Adam Had'em

There you go...

Thank you Mom for allowing me to see the err of my ways...

as you've done so many times. ;)

I think what I had in my mind was ADAM... then ADAM ANT (remember him, totally 80s)...

And there ya go. The next thing I'm doing is plagiarising & not even doing it well.

Crabbing, crabbing...

Ugh...
Do you ever take time out of your busy schedule to do something for someone else... a stranger, whom you owe NOTHING to....
then, you don't even get a simple thank you?

The phone rang. I was pulling Flynn's shirt over her head... I saw it was Progressive. I KNOW we don't use them, so I figured it was the wrong number.
"Tom" (names NOT changed as to NOT protect the guilty) left a very detailed message for ADAM Perry. Apparently ADAM was in an accident with his 2003 Escort. And Tom was needing to speak w/ ADAM.
Well, ADAM doesn't live here.
I've never heard of ADAM.

TOM needed ADAM to return his call promptly. Which was NOT going to happen, as ADAM doesn't live here & will not be receiving the message left.

Now I'm busy... too busy in fact to be sitting here leaving this blog entry, esp when it's a sunny 58 outside & my kids to need burn off energy running & dropping handfuls of sand in their hair.
BUT, I'm one of those conscientious people, responsible to a fault.... and if I didn't call TOM back, it would be eating away at me that ADAM wouldn't be returning TOM's call & what about the other driver??

So, I call Progressive, at the number left, and who should I reach but TOM.

I explain to TOM that he left a message here & it was for ADAM & ADAM doesn't live here.
"Adam Perry?"
"Right, this IS the Perry residence, but there is no ADAM here."
"Hmm, that's very strange."
"Yes, and I've never met nor heard of an Adam."
"That's REALLY odd."
Me, starting to feel a little under interrogation, started to feel a little guilty (for what, I'm not sure).

"Well, when I pulled his name up in the system, your number & address came up...2024 *****?"
"Yes, that's our address... perhaps someone looked up Perry & attached our info to Adam Perry's name?"
"Do you have Progressive insurance?"
Me, thinking, 'if you even try to sell me insurance, I'm going to come up there & strangle you with your cheap tie.'
"No, I don't have Progressive insurance."
"Well, okay."
LLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLong silence.
Me, wondering, 'is he NOT going to thank me????'
"Well, I thought I should call you since the message sounded important."
"Thanks."
"MmHm."
click.

I guess I should've just saved some time & let TOM spend the rest of the week wondering why ADAM didn't return his call.

I'll end this blog with the world's shortest poem, taught to me by my uncle, entitled ANTS:

ANTS

Adam Had'em

DETOX

I'm kinda in rehab...

After a weekend of trying things on & realizing how large I've become, I've hit bottom.

Starting a new diet, the Fat Smashers diet. I'm on day 3 of detox.... only eating certain fruits, veggies, oats, brown rice, yogurt, & egg whites.

As of this morning, I'd lost 3 lbs. I'd expected more at this point, as I am STARVING.

Here's to a healthier me... and much less of me.

MOM My Ride

Clickety-click above.... to see a parody on PIMP My Ride.
What's funny is that my ride is already MOM'ed, at least the interior is.

Also, down & to the right, take my quiz. See how well you know me.

A Funny Revenge Story

Okay, so the Lord says Vengeance is mine...
but this story is STILL funny:

A Funny Story About Curtain Rods.....

CURTAIN RODS---- PRICELESS

She spent the first day packing her belongings into boxes, crates and suitcases.

On the second day, she had the movers come and collect her things.

On the third day, she sat down for the last time at their beautiful dining room table by candle-light, put on some soft background music, and feasted on a pound of shrimp, a jar of caviar, and a bottle of spring-water.

When she had finished, she went into each and every room and deposited a few half-eaten shrimp shells dipped in caviar into the hollow of the curtain rods. She then cleaned up the kitchen and left.

When the husband returned with his new girl friend, all was bliss for the first few days. Then slowly, the house began to smell.

They tried everything; cleaning, mopping and airing the place out. Vents were checked for dead rodents and carpets were steam cleaned. Air fresheners were hung everywhere. Exterminators were brought in to set off gas canisters, during which they had to move out for a few days and in the end they even paid to replace the expensive wool carpeting.

Nothing worked.

People stopped coming over to visit.
Repairmen refused to work in the house.
The maid quit.

Finally, they could not take the stench any longer and decided to move.A month later, even though they had cut their price in half, they couldnot find a buyer for their stinky house. Word got out and eventually even the local realtors refused to return their calls.

Finally, they had to borrow a huge sum of money from the bank to purchase a new place.

The ex-wife called the man and asked how things were going. He told her the saga of the rotting house. She listened politely and said that she missed her old home terribly and would be willing to reduce her divorce settlement in exchange for getting the house back.

Knowing his ex-wife had no idea how bad the smell was, he agreed on a price that was about 1/10th of what the house had been worth, but only if she were to sign the papers that very day.
She agreed and within the hour his lawyers delivered the paperwork.

A week later the man and his girlfriend stood smiling as they watched the moving company pack everything to take to their new home... And to spite the ex-wife, they even took the the curtain rods!!!!!!

I LOVE A HAPPY ENDING, DON'T YOU?

Frozen Eggs

Yep, we nearly froze our eggs off, hunting eggs in 40 degrees.
But we hunted, nonetheless. Not once. Or twice. But three times.
So my kids are pros.

And there will be pictures to come. As soon as I surface myself from the pool of plastic eggs that my surroundings have become.
And those pictures will be cute. You can count on that.

But meanwhile, you can gush w/ me at what Flynn & her Daddy conversed about the other day...
"Flynn, why do we have Easter?"
"Because of Jesus. The bad people put nails in his hands and his head."
"That's right. Jesus died for us."
"But why?"
"Because He loves us."
"But why?"
"Because He wanted us to be in heaven forever."
"But why?"
"Because He's God's son & God wanted to give us a gift."
"But why?"
"Just because."

So, yesterday, Jeff wanted to turn the tables & started asking Flynn questions. She'd answer him & his response would be, "But why?"
She finally said to him, "that's too many questions."

Good Friday

1,600 plastic Easter eggs. Approximately. And they're all in the back of our mini-van.

The sweat of my brow & the extent of my organizational skills, have all been spent on this egg hunt.

So that's become the bulk of my thoughts. Will there be enough? Will people know where to go? How can I be sure they go to the correct table to redeem their prizes?

What am I going to wear? What will Flynn wear? What will I take for dinner afterward?

Now isn't that just silly?

Not silly that I've planned a community-wide egg hunt.

But that it's consumed my mind.

Yesterday, I slipped Jeff's iPod in my ears & pushed play.

He had uploaded a dramatization of the resurrection... with voices such as Cuba Gooding Jr. & James Earl Jones.

It was good. I was getting inspired. The deep bass of the music escalated as Christ carried the cross & the intensity thrived as the moment grew nearer. 'Wow!' I thought.

But then it hit me...

When Jesus was carrying that cross through the town. Through the streets. Blood dripping from His flesh-torn back...

He heard no music to inspire Him.

When they nailed him hands & his feet & speared his side, there was no bass beat.

There was crying...and mourning... and a Mother who watched her son being beat... and made fun of... and disrespected... and murdered.

There was no dramatization, nothing that made Jesus feel uplifted or inspired.

Except...

Except for you.

Can you believe that? Can you wrap your mind around that? Someone thought enough of YOU to die. In my lowest of times, especially in my best of times, that was way more than I deserved.

When I pray in the morning, I start out with,

Dear God,

Thank You for giving me a breath to breathe today.

You didn't even have to wake me up this morning but You did.

And then on top of all of that, You've blessed me like You have.

It's true. He worked so hard just creating the universe, and us, and all the animals.

Then, on top of all of that, He gave His son. Something I have only fully understood the last two Easters, since I have a son of my own.

Just for us.

I could go on & on after that. But I won't.

But those are my thoughts today.... after Flynn asked me (after a short summary I gave her on why this is Good Friday),

"Why did He die?"

Really, all she needs to know is that He loved her that much.

And because of that love, JUST that love, she & all the rest of us, have the option of eternity in heaven.

Tiny Dancer

Looky-looky who started DANCE CLASS last week...

Here with the "tappers" (as she calls them)...
Look at these moves!

And that was before the class!

WARNING: music

I've attached music now to the blog...
So, if you're at work & don't want to have, say, Catch the Wind by Donovan (a fav from the 70s) piping from your speakers, you can either turn down your speakers beforehand, or quickly scroll to the bottom of the blog & hit pause.
I'm hoping you'll just enjoy it, as do I.

Waste of Time

In the study series, Daniel, Beth Moore talks about her daughter. She'll watch either a dumb commercial, tv show, or any waste of time, then says, "Well, I'm dumber now than I was before."

It has me thinking, do I watch anything that actually takes my intelligence (as small a portion that might be) away?
Do I do anything that makes me step backward?

In 1 John 3:18, It says, Dear children, let us not love with words or tongue but with actions and in truth. Okay, I know, I know, I completely took that out of context, as that's actually referring to giving what you have of material possessions.
But I don't think God minds me referencing things out of context (as long as I don't distort the truth by doing so)...

I can say I'm a believer, but what do I do behind closed doors? Do I spend my time on the phone spreading rumors? Do I treat my family with disrespect? Do I have some pretty evil habits?

Those can sound a little extreme, so here's what I was thinking about yesterday while I was cleaning out Gabe's shoe drawer...

I talk to Angie & Amy several times a week on the phone. Sometimes it's a short chat but other times it's a soapbox. I vent, I complain. Or sometimes I just 'talk'... just words. Are they getting off the phone with me & saying, "Okay, what a waste of time... I'm dumber after that converstaion."?

I think I have a long way to get to the holy point of every word coming from my mouth doing nothing but proclaiming God's righteousness. Not to mention, who would want to be around me? But surely there's a comfortable point close to that.

Almost a year ago, I wrote a mission / vision statement. In this statement, I wrote all the things I'd need to do or things to avoid to be a Godly mother & wife. It's on the fridge & quite a great reference. I listed things that I called 'Mind Wasters' & those were the internet (um, oops), the phone (see 2 paragraphs above), & the tv. They waste time & brain cells. Used in moderation, I can see that they're okay... but are easy to cross the line with.

For now, I'll start with avoiding the things that make me dumb. A pointless show. Listening to something that might not make me a better person.

'Love the Lord your God with all your heart and with all your soul and with all your mind.' Matt 22:37.

I Wanna Be Just Like You

In Jeff's iPod...





Lord, I want to be just like You 'Cause he wants to be just like me.
I want to be a holy example For his innocent eyes to see.
Help me be a living Bible, Lord -- That my little boy can read.
I want to be just like You 'Cause he wants to be like me.

He climbs in my lap for a goodnight hug... He calls me Dad and I call him Bub... With his faded old pillow and a bear named Pooh.
He snuggles up close and says, "I want to be like you".
I tuck him in bed and I kiss him goodnight ...Trippin' over the toys as I turn out the light.
And I whisper a prayer that someday he'll see...He's got a father in God 'cause he's seen Jesus in me.

Got to admit I've got so far to go... Make so many mistakes and I'm sure that You know.. Sometimes it seems no matter how hard I try, With all the pressures in life I just can't get it all right.
But I'm trying so hard to learn from the best...Being patient and kind, filled with Your tenderness...'Cause I know that he'll learn from the things that he sees...
And the Jesus he finds will be the Jesus in me...

Right now from where he stands I may seem mighty tall...
But it's only 'cause I'm learning from the best Father of them all.

Happy Feet

Tonight marks a monumental time...

the kids' first visit to the movie theater.

I didn't have high expectations. So we went to a "cheap" theater (Keller) where the kids were free, Jeff & I didn't cost much, & the movie we saw was an 'older' one.

So, Flynn enjoyed Happy Feet, Gabe enjoyed Happy Feet, Mommy & Daddy enjoyed Flynn & Gabe enjoying Happy Feet.

Another memory.

Deep Thoughts 4

A few nights ago, Jeff was trying to talk Flynn into choosing the movie, CARS, to watch as they wound down for bedtime.

He told her, "It's got 'Mater', the tow-truck."
She said, "Yah, he's funny! He's got two teeth. Like Bubby."

The Boob-Tube

I've been reading lots lately about television, how it rots our brain & takes up so much of our time. Usually, I just quickly dismiss the stats, the quotes & the opinions of those who have decided to unplug.

But how can you ignore facts? I just read an article that said that by the time we're something like 60, we've watched 2 years of tv. TWO YEARS! That is a lot by anyone's standard.
We are probably not as bad as most families, particularly since we're home so much. But I heard Flynn humming the PBS kids snippet. And anytime Gabe hears ANYTHING interesting piping out, he wheels around & will abandon whatever he was playing with.
And that's exactly what I don't want...
our family preferring their favorite show to their favorite book or game...
jumping into spots with the best view of the tv....
eating meals in front of the tele.
We've never done the above; however, who is to say the kids won't when they're big enough to make those decisions?

Growing up our lives did not revolve around the tv. And actually, this part is shocking: for the better part of my first 12 years we didn't have a tv in the livingroom. Can you imagine the shock & horror??!! What did we do? Well, we played a lot of games & had a lot of family time. My mom & I regularly played "double-sol". I did lots of drawing & playing & using my IMAGINATION (something lots of kids are lacking these days).

Now I realize the sacrifice this takes. And Jeff is probably reading this & going, "what??!!" And I'm not saying we will do this but it is definitely in my mind right now. I don't want advertising to target my children. And the thought of a scary, violent, or sexual image to be seen by my kids just makes me want to puke.

So why am I taking the chance? I don't know.

Yesterday the tv was only on 2 hours (not bad out of 18 hours we're awake & HERE). We didn't turn it on 'til bedtime. And today, I turned it on briefly for Curious George & Calliou. And that's it for today.

Remember Cassette Tapes?

What's Better Than a Binky?

TWO binkies.

We've been trying to SLOWly begin the weaning process, to end the days with the binky.

In the morning, we "give the binky to the stars", meaning drop it down into the bed which has star sheets. He's supposed to be limited to using the binks during sleep times -- nap & bedtime. We also bust it out when we're going somewhere as we know in quiet situations (aka church), we'll need a tool in which to plug him up.

Now he knows how to retrieve the binky from the stars by sticking his long skinny arm through the slats on his bed & reaching it. Then he emerges from his room, grinning from ear to ear with his beloved binky in place.

The other day, he found both binkies (the only two "original" binks that have not been swallowed by the mysterious "binky black hole")... in his mouth.

BOTH of them in his mouth.

My personal goal is to have it gone by TWO.

He has other plans.

Indescribable

Melts my Heart

That Gabe...

For a couple of weeks now, we've been wondering what in the world he says when you're leaving.
When one of us would leave for work, he'd wave, but what he'd say WITH the wave was odd-sounding, "woo-woo."
We're like, "WHAT?"

When I left him Thursday for work, Grammy said he stood at the window forever saying it at my car, which drove away.

Finally, (& I'm ashamed not sooner, as I AM the mom!!) it dawned on me. We all always say, "I love you" when we're leaving.

THAT'S WHAT IT WAS...
He says I love you EVERYTIME ANYone leaves.

Melts my heart.

Letter to the Groundhog

Dear Groundhog,
You are a liar.
I look out my window, there are snowflakes falling down!
Early spring. No shadow. Baahh!
Forget the sunny days of us frolicking through the grassy meadows.
I'll do nothing but kick you in your hairy larynx.
Come February 2nd next year, I won't be listening to your lies.
You're nothing but a fat, over-grown & over-glorified rodent.
Good Riddance to you.