Schtuff

1.  It's Spring Break for most of the world this week, except for us.  Well, kinda.  My fancy planning calendar that I spent way too much time making out at the beginning of the year says that we are working through this week, because our Spring Break will come 'round Easter.  The fact that we've only had a full school day once this week seems to be speaking to the fact that it is, in fact, Spring Break for us, too.  For the record, though, it is super hard to keep myself the kids motivated when everyone and their 2nd cousin asks how our Spring Break is going and the response that I have to continually hear is, "We don't have Spring Break.  Our mom makes us work."  Nice.

2.  My red-headed pool of sunshine turned NINE this week.  Crazily impossible.  I have found myself saying those way overused words, "It happens so fast," way too often this week.  Really?  Nine?  Say it ain't so, Joe.

3.  While still under total delusion of only have one baby, I made a decision and a pact that I would ALWAYS make my kids' birthday cakes.  No expectations.  Totally kicking myself for my attitude of resolve on the matter now.  For his big 9th birthday, Sawyer requested an interesting creation.  His criteria: (a) had to be orange  (b) had to be baseball   (c) had to have the pirate skull & crossbones  (d)  Had to be chocolate.   Mmmkay... 

This is what I came up with.
Notice that nowhere on his list is Tyrannosaurus Rex.
Hmmm....Oh well.
Somehow I managed to convince him that pirates think dinosaurs are way cool......

4.  We are up to our ears in baseball.  I'm not going to complain, because this is definitely my favorite time of year, but I will say that we are just plain B.U.S.Y.  Between all 3 boys, we have 4 different baseball teams.  Two regular league teams, and two traveling tournament teams.  Needless to say, we are at a ballfield 7 days a week.  And if we just so happen to squeeze in a day without a practice or a game, that day is spent hashing over plays at the dinner table, hitting in the batting cage, or washing a uniform of somekind.  Definitely tiring, but good times.

5.  I declared today a NO ELECTRONICS day, and, can I just tell you, that I am loving it.  Instead of fighting over whose turn it is for this DS game or for that iPod charger, the boys have dragged out every lego and action figure that we own.  They've constructed a huge city in the living room and are playing some intense game of super heroes meets combat war zone meets Star Wars.  I LOVE IT.  Maybe their DSs and iPods should mysteriously disappear for awhile.....

6.  I made a uber-long list of projects that really need to be completed around the house.  Closets that need to be cleaned out, moldings that need to be painted, drawers and cabinets that need to be purged and organized.  I probably should tackle that list on my now impromptu Spring Break, but I really just don't want to.  Instead I think I'll just go read a book in the sun.  Sounds equally urgent.

7.  I went to the dentist yesterday.  'Nuff said.

8.  My Lenten fast is going really really well.  I've made it 16 days now and feel better than I have in ages.  I even resisted a piece of the orange chocolate T-Rex pirate baseball cake this weekend.  Although I will tell you that right now there is a jar of ranch dip and a package of open taterchips sitting next to me on my bar, and I'm about to lose my religion over it.  The children love to play this little torture game with me....

9.  I still haven't done our taxes.  I probably should get on that, huh?

10.  American Idol is making me swoon.  So much good talent in one tiny space.  My favorites are cutie-pie screecher James, quirky white-teeth Paul, Southern Belle sweetie Lauren, and ornery-as-all-get-out Casey.  Actually at this point, I'm just rootin' for the ones that I want to get kicked off, because after they're gone, it'll all be cake for me.  Love this season...

Alrighty.....time to do laundry cozy up with my book in the sunshine....

If you need me, I'm the one with the stupid sun-drunk grin on my face.

Ketchup

I'm not really a ketchup lover.  I'm more of a mustard gal.  In fact, the only thing I will eat ketchup on are McDonald's french fries.  And maybe an occasional chicken nugget if I'm feeling sassy that day.

Nope, ketchup's not really my thing. 

But today, it's necessary.  Because when you haven't blogged for precisely 17 days (the math is courtesy of Jim-Dad), KETCHUP is warranted....or CATSUP....or CATCH-UP.  You know...toe-may-toe, toe-maw-toe.  

KETCHUP Numero Uno:  I have been doing a whole lot of nothing.  I feel like I've been very busy and just wave at myself as I come and go, but now that I think of it, I haven't really done much of anything productive.  We've managed quite a few full school days which is a miracle in itself, and I did spend several days laid up in bed with the Mystery Virus of TwentyEleven, but other than that...um...can't really think of anything.

Two Bottles of KETCHUP on the Wall:   I had convinced myself that my house is a breeding ground for all kinds of nasty because I've been so extremely and remarkably busy.  But, thanks to the realization of Numero Uno up there, I now need to double up on my Prozac seeing as my depression level just hit an all time high.  My house is gross because I don't like to clean.  And because I do stuff like spend 3 hours searching the web for a new blingy iPhone case.  Hmmmm.....admission is the first step to recovery, right?

KETCHUP III:  Back to the Mystery Virus of TwentyEleven....  All I wanted to do was sleep.  And then when I would get up, I'd get overwhelmingly nauseous and go back to sleep.  And then I'd wake up with a headache from the underside of Hades.  It was like I was waking up from having had one too many margaritas every 5 minutes.  But I hadn't.  Honest.  But now that I think of it, I will now refer to it as the MMV.  The Mystery Margarita Virus.  Catchy.

Doing It FOUR the KETCHUP:  While I was down and out with the MMV, I discovered a ridiculous time-waster.  If you're an iPhone/iTouch/iPad user, run away.  Do not read any further, lest you be lured in by the siren song of the POCKETFROG.  Lord.Love.A.Frog.  I'll just leave it at that.....  And don't say that I didn't warn you.

KETCHUP #5:  The husband is doing mucho muchly better.  He's off his crutches and is back at work and all of that other good stuff.  He did tell me the other day that he can now feel the weather changing in his knee.  So now he is one of THOSE people.  Awesome.  Next I'll be lulled to sleep with stories of his yesteryears when he walked to school barefoot....

KETCHUP x6:   The gym that I pay money to attend ran a special for the year of 2011.  They offered this ridiculous membership deal that gave you the whole year for the cost of 3 months.  Pretty sweet deal.  Too good to pass up.  It was pure motivation back in January when I re-upped the membership under the new sweet deal to finally whittle away the years of cupcakes and Diet Dr. Peppers that have so kindly attached themselves to my hips.  It is now the last of February, and I can count on two hands the times I've darkened the doors of the gym this year.  But I would need a whole room full of hands to add up the amount of cupcakes I've inhaled.  Sigh.... 

Seven Swans a'KETCHUPing:  I'm going to try to finish up the curtains for my living room today.  It has been exactly a year since the Great Living Room Remodel was completed, and I'm just.now getting to the curtains.  Procrastinate, much?

KETCHUP Eighthly:  A super sweet friend took all three boys out for pizza and roller skating last night.  So, I, in turn, devoured a huge plate of spinach ravioli at my favorite hole-in-the-wall Italian restaurant and then caught up on a bunch of shows that have been tucked away in my DVR.  What a blessing.  Thanks, Melissa!!  (Oh..and the boys had a great time, too.)

Nine KETCHUPS:   I have a standing coffee/dessert date with my besties every Wednesday while the boys are at an after-school program at one of the local churches.  Thanks to the Snowpocalypse AND the husband's whacked out knee AND the Mystery Margarita Virus, I've had to miss every date since the beginning of the year.  Not cool, y'all.  So not cool.  Praise to all things good and made of coffee, though, we were able to meet up this past Wednesday, and it was so therapeutic.  There is nothing quite like solving the world's problems over way too many cups of coffee and a bowl of blackberry cobbler. 

10 Little KETCHUP Packets Jumping On the Bar:   I read a tremendous book the other day.  It's called Lies I Told My Children, and, y'all, I could've written this book.  The author, Karen McQuestion, is my new kindred spirit, and I'm so tempted to track her down just to hug her neck.  And to see if she is my long lost twin.  Because she talks like me, writes like me, and parents like me.  And in my head she looks just like me.  She also makes me feel insanely normal.  And, in fact, the only thing that makes me sad is that she totally ripped off my book idea that I've had stirring around in my head.  Darn her for writing it first. 

I could keep the Ketchups going....

I could tell you about my housefly infestation and that I am now rewarding the children in quarters for the number of dead flies they bring to me. 

I could also tell you about how I suited up in HazMat gear to clean out the big trash bin by the road that we put our bags of garbage in.  It had been ravished by a team of menacing buzzards and crows, and they made one stink of a mess.  Dumb birds. 

And I could tell you about how I found a ticket stub for a movie that was watched in DECEMBER in the pocket of a pair of jeans in my laundry room.  That would be how far behind I am on my laundry....

BUT...I'll save all that for another day of KETCHUP.

Wouldn't want to waste it all in one place....

Random Highlights and Lowlights of the Past Lots of Hours

1.   I've been sleeping on the couch for 8 nights now.  The only place that the husband can sleep comfortably is in the recliner, and I don't like sleeping away from him, so the couch it is.  Before you go thinking I'm really syrupy sweet, I have made a habit of reminding him of my martyrdom daily.

2.   Due to a small, slight, minute, and rather minuscule miscalculation of the DVR, the husband missed the last 2 minutes of the Super Bowl last night.  It was totally my fault, and I spent an hour apologizing via text message from the bedroom that I had confined myself in after the unfortunate incidence totally an accident. 

3.  The husband went back to work today, and it was so very strange without him here at the house.  It's bizarre how quickly our normal and routine can change.  I spent a better part of last week trying to use my voodoo mind powers to shoo him on back to work early.  And I spent all of today wishing him home.  Weird.

4.  This weekend, two of the rascals came down with the mystery fever/sore throat/cough virus that seems to be floating around.  I have treated everyone like they had the plague and have prayed that I don't come down with it.  I'm the captain of this boat right now, and if I were to go down, we'd be sunk for sure.

5.  What about Christina Aguilera totally botching our Nation's sacred song during the Super Bowl?  Yikes.

6.  OH..and the Black Eyed Peas and their light show?  I needs me one of those light up suits.  That was some serious Boom Boom Pow.

7.  Speaking of singing or NOT singing, have you been watching American Idol?  What about those new judges?  I have had to eat some major crow, because I was one that talked so ugly about the passing of the torch from Simon to Stephen Tyler; Paula to JLo.  BUT.I'M.HOOKED.  They intrigue me to no end, and I have found myself not.even.missing.Simon.at.all.  Didn't think I would ever utter those words.

8.  It's supposed to snow.  Again.  In South Arkansas.  Go ahead, Northerners, scoff.  But we Southern Belles don't understand all of this frigidity.  It's ridiculously cold, and none of us own like-for-real winter garb.  The closest I have to a winter coat is a cutie army jacket from Old Navy that most people who live in snow infested places would wear as part of an outfit.  And I sent my boys out in the snow last Friday with WalMart sacks tied around their shoes..... Yep.  We be ghetto.

9.  I almost got blessed with a Skunk Spa package last night.  Since the husband is all crutched up, I've been promoted to Chief FireMaker.  Our wood pile by the fireplace was running low, so as I walked outside to gather a couple of more logs, I came face to tail with a little stinker.  I had already walked fully out of the door and shut the door behind me, so that made it all the more difficult to claw myself back into the house once I realized what I was staring down into.  The odor gods must have been smiling on me, because somehow I escaped unsprayed.  Although I have no idea how what with my heinous carrying on and screaming like a girl. 

I'm sure I could go on with this hot mess....but my brain is fried.  I'm in much need of interaction with other estrogen bearers, and since I can't seem to find any within any reasonable distance, I'm going to settle with a gLee marathon and a bowl of icecream.  One must improvise in a pinch.

Happy Monday, y'all...
And blessings on your head.

If You're Going to Skim...Go Straight to My Fourth Point

I was gracefully reminded by my father today that I had not only fallen off the blog wagon, but was the bearer of wheel tracks right 'cross the face.  Hmmm....'tis true. 

But, as always, good excuses abound. 

Firstly, I've been stuck in a house with 3 people whose ages don't even come close to my own age if added up together.  Therefore, the last thing on my mind has been blogging, because I've just been trying to refrain from curling up in the corner and poking hot needles in my eyes.  Keep in full mind, that I love the children dearly and profusely, but only being exposed to those 3 same faces for days on end is enough to make anyone start sucking their thumb and calling for their mama. 

Snowmeggedon struck SouthWest Arkansas this past weekend, and though some of you Northerners would scoff at our few and mighty inches, it was enough to send us Suthenuhs raiding the bread aisle at Walmart and confining ourselves to our homesteads.  We know sweat.  We don't know about this snow stuff.  (Case in point:  After thoroughly soaking through our first pairs of measly thin knit mittens and gloves while playing in the snow, I resorted to coating the boys' hands in socks.  Yes, socks.  Because we usually don't have a need for those thick thinsulate gloves whilst we're swatting mosquitoes.)   

On to my second excuse.  We lost our power during Snowmeggedon.  Now, granted, it was only out for 8 hours, but, I'm still recovering from the frozeness that overtook my toes during that time.  Plus, I had to trek to my van in the snow uphill both ways and barefoot to charge my phone, and that just made me grumpy.  And my grumpiness about the whole ordeal has unfortunately persisted....

Thirdly, I don't appreciate the constant bundling/unbundling of snow clothes.  Oh, to just have snow suits and snow boots...easy on, easy off.  (Listen to me assuming those are easy on/easy off...those ski getups could be like Fort Knox to get in and out of, but for my rambling purposes, I'm going to pretend they go on smooth as butter.)  But, since our warmest clothes consist of fleecey pajama bottoms and an assortment of camouflage parts and pieces, it was a little ridiculous all the layering and tucking that had to be done just to send the boys out for a romp in the snow.  And then they'd want to come in because the socks on their hands were sopping wet, and they needed a new pair.  I was popping Tylenol by the handful after all of that....

Fourth, and most importantly of all, I have been totally and thoroughly sobered by the news of a dear fellow blogger that has suffered majorly at the hands of an imperfect human body this week.  Joanne Heim, some know her better as The Simple Wife, had a stroke yesterday.  And now she is lying in a hospital bed in very critical condition.  Her 9 year old daughter found her at home, and in the blink of an eye, the lives of that entire family have been turned drastically upside down.  Everything that they knew was changed in an instant.

Joanne is only 38.  Thirty-eight.  And everything about the happenings have left me in a strange swirl of emotions.  I don't know Joanne personally, but I know people who do.  Their pain must be so much more deep than mine, yet I find myself grieving for her and her family.  Joanne is a blog friend of mine, and one that always had such uplifting and encouraging words for me the times I exchanged words with her.  She loves Jesus with every fiber of her being, and she is such an amazing advocate for marriage, family, and spreading the Word.  Joanne's husband, Toben, has been updating her blog here, and you can also follow @tobenheim on Twitter for updates on her progress.

Please pray for Joanne.  Please pray for her daughters, Audrey and Emma.  Please pray for Toben.  And the host of family and friends that are aching for her.  I know with all of my heart that Joanne would want this situation to glorify Jesus, and she would plead with the Father for whatever outcome gained that result.  I am praying for healing, but I also find myself beseeching the Lord for His good and perfect will to be done. 


(I'm not posting pictures today for my Photo Project.  Frankly, I don't have the energy to fight my internet service and Blogger to wait on the upload.  Perhaps tomorrow......)

Randomness....

Ancient China has been our topic of study this week in school, and my lesson plan suggested that we make our own Chinese food at home.  I gave myself quite a bruise when I fell out of my chair laughing at even the mere thought of that ever.happening.  So, I did what any other resourceful teacher would do.  I loaded the children up and took them to a Chinese Buffet.  And we dove into the culture headfirst....  Well, actually, the boys only ate fried shrimp, jello, and ice cream...but still.  It was the fact that I didn't have to cook a meal at home the educational experience that matters.  I did, however, come out with a fortune that filled me with a bit of anticipation....

All I found when I came home though were 14 loads of laundry that need to be washed.

Some fortune.

~~~~~~~~~~

We journeyed into the wide world of tackle football this fall.  Sawyer was so excited to play, and though I had my reservations at first about sending my 8 year old out to be pummeled, I soon realized that at this age, tackle football is more of an exercise in bear-hugging.  Not so much with the hard tackles.

Our little team wasn't the best, but they had an amazing set of coaches, and the boys learned a lot about the fundamentals of the game.

Plus...they're just cute.

~~~~~~~~~~

The principal and I have decided to move to a year-round schedule for school.  Right now it sounds absolutely fabulous that we have several little 2 week breaks scheduled in to our school year.  Love the idea of that.  I probably will be rethinking my decision come July and we're still doing fractions. 

~~~~~~~~~~

Our town has this fun festival coming up to celebrate a not-so-much friendly rivalry between the two colleges in our town.  The football game between the two is this Saturday, so the festival is including some fun activities for the kids who are supposed to come all dressed up in their Halloween costumes.  Um...our costumes are still MIA.  And it's Wednesday.  And the festival thing is Friday.  Just call me the Queen of Preparation.

~~~~~~~~~~

I've been debating about posting this picture, but I've just decided that I can't not.  It's just too good to keep to myself.  Brace yourself...this might just be the most fascinating thing you've ever seen.....

Yep.

It's totally for real.

My favorite is the slide coming off of the back deck.  Totally resourceful.

And since this picture was taken, the good people who inhabit this funland have added an upholstered couch and chair to their roof.

Yes.  I said roof.

I.Love.My.Neighbors.

Pigs Must Be Flyin' and Fat Ladies Must Be Singin'

Go on.  Pick your jaw up off of the floor.  I'll wait.....

I know I haven't posted in a long set of Tuesdays, but it hasn't been for lack of trying.  I've opened the lid of my laptop and logged on to Blogger so many times in the past month or so, but just end up shutting the lid.  Not really for lack of things to say, really.  But more for lack of the heart to say them. 

This has been a period of time that has sent me soaring one second and then left me reeling the next.  Roller coasters are way-over-used analogies, but I can't think of anything better to describe the journey that my emotions have taken over these last few days and weeks.  It's a bizarre feeling to climb up steep faith ladders the are full of anticipation and joy only to roughly have the rug ripped out from under you.  But more on that another day.......

For today....a catch'em'up.

-- Having 3 boys is nutso.  Having 3 boys that all play sports is nutso magnified to the 38297492th degree.  For the past what-seems-like-a-million days, we have been at one ball field or another Seven.Days.A.Week.  We thought we were really giving ourselves a break and exhibiting excellent parenting skills by making the boys choose TWO sports each for the fall season.  Um...not so much.  All 3 boys chose baseball, 2 chose soccer, and 1 chose football.  And between all of those, we've had practices or games every.single.day.of.the.week.  No Sabbath for the sports mongers.  Needless to say...my cheerleading uniform is tired and ready for winter hibernation.

-- School is going really well.  Aside from 5th grade math kicking my tail, we've really experienced rather calm seas for smooth sailing.  The boys are all really happy, and though I'm still working out the kinks in our daily schedule (yes, I realize it's October), I've seen true fruits of our labor.  And I still have all of my hair....

-- Every Monday and Wednesday afternoon, I sacrifice my ritual naptime to take Tate to Speech Therapy.  He's getting his Fudd fixed, and though it makes me extremely weepy to see it go, I've realized that him saying, "Will you mehwy me?" one day to some gorgeous girl will.not.be.cute.in.any.way.  So, Fudd-fixin' it is.

-- I've become absolutely obsessed with Razorback football this season.  I've become one of those girls that discusses plays and stats with the man-child, and I actually cried real tears when I had to watch on tv the game against the Aggies in the new Cowboys Stadium.  Because I should have been there.  I just should.have.been.there.  But I didn't have an extra spleen to sell for the price of tickets.

-- Along with my new Woo Pig Sooie! infatuation, I'm now one of those people that tweets and updates their Facebook statuses with nothing but football related verbage on gameday.  I know...annoying as all get out.  You're welcome.

-- I've started that Couch to 5K program, and I'm convinced that it was spawned in the bowels of Hades.  But, my friends want to run a 5K, and I'm one that is prone to peer pressure....so I'm Couching my way to Raceday.  But it hurts.  And I'm tired.  And I'm only on Day 4.  Lord, help me.

-- I cleaned out my closet the other day.  Seven bags to charity and one bag of trash later, my closet is refreshed and organized.  Although I'm still wondering how in the world someone can have one full garbage bag of TRASH in their closet???  I guess I thought, though, that hanging on to the paint-stained Aaron Tippen concert teeshirt from 1992 would come in handy one day.  You never know when the dress code might call for that kind of thing.....  Ridiculous.

-- I'm thrilled that my tv has returned to Regular Scheduled Programming.  Loving that my shows are all fresh and new each week, and that my DVR is fat and happy.  My numero uno favorito (insert shuddering Spanish speakers here) show, gLee, is confusing me a bit with all the raunch and over-thinky-politically-correct episodes, but I'm hanging in there.  Because I love Mr. Schue.  And I love any show that promotes busting out in song and dance in public. 

-- Halloween is this weekend, and I'm trying very hard to keep a smile on my face about it.  Halloween is my least favorite holiday, and it would suit me just fine to nix and null it altogether.  I wish that I had some huge conviction against the holiday, because then I could use that as a reason to fore-go the whole dress-up/candy-gorging binge.  But I don't honestly see anything wrong with my kids dressing up as pirates and cowboys and getting a Snickers bar from their pediatrician.  So now I'm in the dilemma of having waited till the last minute for costumes and having to fake my way through the whole Smile-Be-Happy-My-Kids-Are-Drunk-On-Sugar weekend.  Halloween = Blech for me.

I'm sure there's more to discuss. 
But it's time to pry myself from my chair and start the day.  There are dishes to wash, and laundry to sort, and little people to teach, and 5Ks to run....

Bwahahahaha....I almost got through that last part without spitting my coffee all over my computer screen.

Have a blessed day.  5Ks and all.

There's Manna in Numbers

EIGHT -- the number on the clock that the little hand points to when I'm sitting at the soccer field on a Saturday morning.  On a Saturday morning.  Wait...did you hear me?  On a Saturday morning.  Whoever had that brainchild must be one of those weird morning people, and they probably do other stuff before the roosters like eat dinner...or...laundry.

ONE -- the number of tattoos that my cherub-faced stinker installed on himself while I wasn't looking.  Our family is all about some ink, but choosing to mimic thugists...not so much.  And I'll show you the picture...as long as you promise not to say, "Aw...he's so cute."  Because, y'all...he put the stinkin' thing on his neck.  The thing that holds his head on.  Which he obviously wasn't using when he inked himself.

SEVEN -- the number of nights that I've slept with the windows open.  Keep in mind that 3 of those nights were with the husband 239,382,392,823 miles away....and the beauty of sleeping chilled to the bone in the crisp fall air beat out the fear of the BoogieMan.  That's some amazing fall air, I tell ya.

EIGHT -- the number of months that it took our walls to get all dinged up from one too many hallway soccer games and swashbuckling pirate attacks.  We remodeled in February.  Today, I spent the afternoon repainting what we just painted.  

NEVER  -- the time in which the husband and I will finally be able to have nice things (and walls that don't get dinged up).  Dadgum boys.

SEVENTY-THREE -- the number of minutes that the offspring member of the red headed persuasion stared at his language book the other day.   He had to write four sentences about what he did this summer.  That's it.  Four.  And you would have thought that I asked him to translate the Gilgamesh epic into Latin.  On minute seventy-four, he caved.  Score = Mom: 1, Kid: goose egg.

FORTY-ONE  --  the number of Pez Dispensers in the oldest rascal's collection.  He wants to make sure that I clarify that the forty-one does include one giant talking Yoda Pez Dispenser and a box set of 8 Star Trek members, which leaves 32 individual Pez Dispensers.  You think I'm kidding.  I'm so not kidding.  I'm also not kidding about the Excel spreadsheet that is worked up on these said 41 Pez Dispensers.  Because we're wild and crazy like that....

SIXTEEN -- the number of days that I've eaten nothing but junk.  With the husband in and out of the country and baseball/football/soccer seven nights/afternoon a week, I've been ingesting mad amounts of fast food and frozen-food aisle edibles.  My innards screamed out for vegetables the other day, and I managed to wolf down a can of cold mixed veggies before heading out to the ballfield.  Go ahead...judge.  I'm sixteen steps ahead of you. 

TWENTY-FOUR -- the number of Words With Friends games that I have going on right now.  Because I have an infinitesimal amount of spare time on my hands.  What?  I'm not playing with you?  My user name is RascalRaiserAmb.  C'mon..you know you want to feed my Scrabbalized habit.

ONE -- the number of precious husbands that I have.  It looks strange to me that I just wrote the word "husbands"...plural.  Speaking of plural...have you seen that new TLC show, "Sister Wives"??  Bizarro.  I'll keep my one man all to my self, thank you very kindly. 

ENDLESS -- the amount of blessings that I feel and have felt from the onslaught of prayers, support, and love showered on us by our friends and family.  We've had some issues that have sneaked their way into the crevices of our lives and have pitched tents in some very uncertain deserts and valleys.  We've dealt with confusion, misunderstanding, and the unknown.  And yet, we remain remarkably at peace.  Because prayer is manna in the desert.  Support is manna.  A "just checking on ya" email is manna.  A facebooked "how ya doing?" is manna. 

And manna is FOREVER, friends.

An Excuse As To My Blog Absence. Not a Good One. But Still An Excuse.

My laptop's power cord has died.  Again. 

Which means I'm chained to Keaton's desktop.  And chaining myself to anything makes me a little nervousy...so I've refrained from anything computer related that I can't do on my phone. 

But I decided to remedy the problem in the middle of the night.  At 3:04 a.m. to be exact. 
Sleep was evading me, so I decided that the best use of my time was to peruse the pages of the power cord kingdoms.  I ordered one from a place that sounded like it was being run out of someone's mother's 3rd cousin twice-removed uncle's basement, but I'm hoping for the best. 

I've never been one to turn my back on adventure.

Unless it has to do with chains.

Shudder.

A Post In Which I Fill Your Mind With Useless Rambling...

1)  Everyone around here goes back to school tomorrow.  I had a post half-composed on my feelings on the matter, but I deleted it.  Because, basically, here's my feelings:  Nah.Nah.Nah.Boo.Boo.   But, I'm not usually one to gloat.

2)  Speaking of school, our new books are trickling in box by box.  The UPS man is my new BFF.  Good thing we live in the country and have no close neighbors, or I'm afraid folks would start talkin'.

3)  I have a new arch-nemesis.  It's an app on my phone called "Angry Birds."  If you have an iPhone or iTouch....tread carefully.  It's highly irritating and will make you want to pull your hair out strand by strand and then set your face on fire addictive.  Dern birds.

4)  My summer tv schedule is starting to wear on my nerves.  I'm ready for my regular-scheduled-programming of gLee and Grey's Anatomy and...well...gLee.  But, thank Florida, I still have my delightfully intriguing train wreck of Big Brother to keep me company in the time being.  Oh...and then there's Wipeout....which just makes me giggle like a 12 year old pubescent boy.

5)  Did I mention that Ye Olde School of Rascal does NOT start school tomorrow?!

6)  I think all of my manic eBaying of late has worn off negatively on the offspring.  Yesterday, I found Keaton in his room, perusing the auction pages of PEZ DISPENSERS.  And somehow, after he talked fancy to me, I helped him place a bid for a package of mint-condition StarTrek Pez dispensers.  Because everyone needs 20 year old candy with a dispenser shaped like Dr. Spock.

7)  The menfolk went and floated the river the other day with some of their other man friends (and a few girly daughters), and apparently had a fantastic time.  My children came home from the outing and declared themselves River Rats.  To which I made a proclamation that as much as I found that amazing, they would be doing all River Rat activities with their father.  Because this girl doesn't do river.  (And I especially don't do river since they yanked a dead person out of said river just yesterday.  Um...no thank you.)

8)  School doesn't start for us tomorrow!!!  But I'm beginning to think it's time to start thinking about starting...because I'm not sure my mind can handle one.more.episode. of SpongeBob.  Mind.Numbing.

9)  I made the most devine mess of Twice Baked Mashed Potatoes the other day.  And I can't really remember how I made them.  There is beauty in not using a recipe...until you want to make them again. 

10)  Guess what?  We don't start school tomorrow!! But I'll think about everyone who is up tying the laces of new tennis shoes at dark'o'clock'thirty in the morning while I'm still snoozing in my bed dreaming about not starting school tomorrow!  You're welcome.

Wanna...Gonna

It's hot.  And I wanna complain about the way my makeup melts off my face and about how the 2 squirts of hairspray that I allow myself a day drips and mixes with the hanging water in the air.  That then drips down in my eyes and causes my contacts to get all wonky.  Which then leads me to have to take my contacts out and wear my glasses which make me claustrophobic, especially in temperatures hot enough to bake a turkey.  And so we've come full circle.  But I'm not going to complain.  Instead I'm gonna tell you that I'm thrilled that it is still flip flop weather.  And that my pedicure still looks good from 2 weeks ago.
     ~~~~~
It's the middle of August.  And I wanna complain about it being time for school to start.  Because I'm not ready.  It means forking over lots of cash for curriculum and waking up early and actually having to put forth some effort during the day other than changing the channel on the television or lathering a little person up with sunscreen at the pool.  And it means that my babies are a year older.  And that I'm going to have to teach 5th grade math this year.  But I'm not going to complain.  Instead I'm gonna tell you that I'm excited about the new school year.  Because it means new sharpened pencils.  And $.25 crayons.  And the sound of fresh spines on textbooks being cracked open for the first time.
     ~~~~~
I have a slight new-found obsession with eBay.  I wanna complain for awhile about the folks that outbid me on an item that I need by a measly $1, which makes me then raise my max bid by a $1, just so I can be outbid again by a $1, and so on and so forth.  Because I have a minor impulse control problem.  And an I-Don't-Like-To-Lose problem.  But I'm not going to dwell on that.  Instead I'm gonna tell you that I'm actually very proud of myself.  I've managed to find some amazing deals on some of our more pricey pieces of curriculum for the year and have managed to save us quite a few dead presidents.  Even if it did make me want to yell bad words at those other homeschooling hussies on the other side of the computer screen who keep outbidding me. 
     ~~~~~
I'm finding myself still dealing with some pent-up frustration with a situation that I should have been able to let go several months ago.  I wanna vent for a long while about how I don't much feel like forgiving.  And how I don't feel like being mature.  And how all I really want to do is throw a huge tantrum and get my way.  But instead I'm gonna tell you that I have amazing friends.  Friends who are honest.  And who are authentic.  And who are the salve on a very nasty wound.
     ~~~~~
The husband has been working himself like a dog lately.  I really wanna complain about his work hours.  And how he's never home.  Or how when he is home he's preoccupied with work stuff or just dead cow tired.  But instead I'm gonna tell you how proud I am of him.  He's so good at his job that people rely entirely too heavily on him and his knowledge that he is kept hopping.  Which is pretty cool...because the alternative could be that he sucked at his job and wasn't needed.  I think I'll take "busy" for $200, Alex.
     ~~~~~
We live in a college town.  Actually, it's a 2 college town.  And right now, I really wanna complain about the soon-to-be monsoon of students that will awaken our lazy town from its quiet summer slumber.  Restaurants will be full again.  I'll have to wait in line to get gas.  And Walmart will be flooded with buggies full of Ramen noodles, ironing boards, and mini dorm refrigerators pushed by perky too-tanned students carrying wallets full of daddies' credit cards.  But instead I'm gonna tell you that I love our town.  And I really love it in the fall when the students return.  Because it means the blood is pumping through the veins of our community again.  Routine returns to schedules that can't help but revolve around college calendars.  Our church quintuples in bodies.  Local business owners sleep a little easier at night.  And, maybe most importantly, it means its almost football weather!!
     ~~~~~
It's been over a month since I've stepped foot near a baseball field.  I wanna tell you how blastedly glad I am for it.  That I'm so sick of the washing of uniforms and running like maniacs to accommodate bizarre practice and game schedules.  That if I don't step foot near a baseball field for another 6 months, I'd be perfectly content.  But I can't.  Instead I'm gonna tell you that I've missed it like crazy.  And that I'm insanely giddy that the boys have their first practice tomorrow to start up the fall tournament season.  That once again my laundry room is going to be covered in a layer of red infield clay carried in on baseball pants, and that my car is going to smell like stanky, sweaty cleats.  I'm thrilled about the soon-to-be littering of baseball bags in my kitchen floor and about pouring half my grocery budget into gatorades and sunflower seeds.  Ahh..tomorrow, tomorrow.  I love ya, tomorrow.
     ~~~~~
It's midnight.  And I've resorted to watching an infomercial about an exercise device that promises me in large print that I can lose 15 dress sizes in 6 weeks, yet assures me in small print that it's never going to happen.  I really wanna turn the tv off and go to sleep.  But instead I'm gonna stay up and practice my before and after poses in the mirror.  You know...for when I don't lose the weight that they promise me that I will just after I lose the weight that they promise me I won't.

Chew on that for awhile....
That's all.....

From Toes to Tampons. You're Welcome.

I had my toes done today.

It's one of those small indulgences that has turned into a flat-out necessity.  About three pedicures ago I switched Preddy Bootie Nayol Schalons.  After my last experience with the still-in-utero-fetus working on my feet, I was definitely ready for a change.  And it was just my luck that a new nail place opened up in town.   And get this....they speak English.  Whahuh?  And they love Jesus.  Double whahuh?  And the lady rubbed my feet for 20 minutes straight today.  Triple whahuh and a scoop of Hallelujah on top.

Heaven, I tell you.  Heaven.  My good buddy, Perpetual Preschool, has decided that pedicures should be covered by health insurance under some mental health clause.  And I totally agree.  I would gladly plop my $20 copay down for that kind of therapy.  You betcha.

I also went and had hairapy today.  I took a picture of my new self right after I walked out of the beauty shop, but I look like I'm 103 years old in it, so I altered it bit.

Um...yah.  Nothing like crow's feet on a smiley face.  Growl.  But the hair is cute and swingy.  Silver lining.

Although most folks wouldn't consider the dentist office as part of a day of blissful therapy, I on the other hand do.  Well, if it is dentist day for the offspring, that is.  Because that means I have an hour to myself in a quiet waiting room where I have nothing to do but just sit.  And contemplate which organs I'm going to sell to pay for the orthodontia services that I was informed today now needed to be paid for.  For not one of my children, mind you, but two.  Anyone need a good kidney?  Lung, perhaps?

Before heading home, I drowned my orthodontic information sorrows in a well-rounded pizza buffet.  Because pizza therapy should also be covered under the mental health clause.  Not only does it make me happy, but it makes me so dingity-dang sleepy that I went home and took a 3 hour nap....which I hear is excellent for the mind, body, and soul.  Amen.

And Walmart.  I almost forgot Walmart.  Because you can't come to town and NOT stop at Walmart.  That would be heresy on all accounts of all things good-and-Arkansan. 

Today's trip to the Mart-of-all-Wals had me buying the all-out-necessities. 

Two cartons of popsicles that turn our poop fun colors, four boxes of cereal that will be gone in 3.4 seconds, and fruit snacks.  These, people, are the things that make our world keep from heaving itself headfirst off its axis. 

And before I forget to discuss it...is anyone else bored out of their gourds with the Great Value sterile white nursing home floor lookin' packaging?  Everything looks the same. 

And I, for one, don't appreciate getting my tampons mixed up with my cheese crackers.

That's all.

Random Smatterings: An Update

You may want to read this post first.  Or not.  Whichever way you want your kite to fly.


On the topic of my 15 year highschool reunion:

• I'm still musing over the way that Facebook has utterly and definitively changed the entire dynamic of the mysterious reunion phenomena.  I didn't feel nearly as apprehensive about going and showing my crows' feet to a group of people that hadn't seen me since waving my fresh 18 year old face goodbye several years ago, seeing as they've seen my pictures and profile stuff floating around the net for some time now.  My crows' feet are old news in cyberspace.  What has kept me snickering since Saturday, though, are the people who have been sticking pictures on Facebook that are.most.definitely.not.them.  You can't post a picture 2 Thursdays ago of a buxom bombshell wearing a teensy two-piece on a beach in Key West and then show up to your reunion sporting love-handles and skin the color of baby powder.  You just can't.  We're smarter than that.  Really.  We are.  

On the topic of the nasty infestation of deadness around the house:

• For those of you who wondered.....I think the carcass was dog related.  Not that I got close enough to perform a complete inspection.  But, regardless of its used-to-be, I do think that our dog, Lucky, was the culprit.  Not of the homicide.  But of the carting it up to the house and plopping it front and center in my yard.  I'm going to pretend that he was trying to gift me with treasure.  I'm also going to pretend that I don't gag every time I think about it.

On the topic of not wanting to start school yet because I just don't want to:

• I've decided that I might just be getting in the spirit of back-to-school time.  And all thanks to this:

  Nothing thrills my heart more than brand new school supplies.  And on sale?  Be.Still.My.Heart.

On the topic of Solo cups:

• We've now graduated to a package of 1000 plastic straws.  $1.99.  You betcha.

On the topic of procrastination as it relates to retail establishments:

• I sucked it up today and went to Walmart.  But only because we were out of Diet Dr. Pepper, and that registers entirely too close to a breach in Homeland Security around these parts.

And with that.......

Random Smatterings

1.  I went to my 15 year highschool class reunion this weekend.  No matter what anyone says, nothing can quite prepare you for a reunion.  Seeing the ex-boyfriends and their wives.  Seeing the old best friends.  Seeing the old enemies.  Seeing the people that you genuinely liked.  And seeing the people that you genuinely didn't.  Seeing people and pretending that you are thrilled beyond belief to be again breathing the same air with them, yet having no recollection at.all. as to who they are. 

It's a bizarre thing, a reunion.  Some people have changed...a lot.  There was lots of weight gain.  And lots of weight loss.  Lots of...um...surgical enhancements.  And lots of new tattoos and hair colors.  And then there are some people who haven't changed a day since high school.  Those are the ones I like....because I actually knew who they were! 

I also feel very sorry for spouses at these kinds of things.  How horribly terrible to be dragged along to a place where everyone is remembering stuff that happened 15 years ago, and you are struggling to just read a scrawled out sticky name-tag of someone that your wife or husband apparently has missed so much, but yet you've never even heard them mention before. Ever.  The husband and I are super fortunate in this department.  We graduated from the same highschool and in the same class, so we were spared the awkwardness of the spousal issue.  Except we know too much of eachother's history with most of the people in the room...which is a whole other bowl of awkward. 

All in all...it was a great time.  It's always fun to dip back into history for a little bit.  To reminisce and recollect and remember. 

We got back home last night, and I just realized that as great as my history is...I'm desperately in love with my present.  So good to be home.


2.  In other news, we have an infestation problem.  Of the dead variety.  We pretty much fell into the bed late last night when we arrived home from the festivities, so it wasn't until this morning that I made the discoveries. 

This was in my kitchen window. 

And this was in my front yard.

Gag.  Nasty.  Gross.

I'm assuming Tweety sneaked in through the fireplace while we were gone and decided to commit suicide by way of ramming his head into the glass of the window.

And the carcass?  That's just gross.  And I'm not asking questions.


3.  I looked at a calendar the other day and realized that summer is almost over.  And that I haven't done the foggiest thing to prepare for the upcoming school year.  I've been hearing of how my fellow homeschool moms are ordering this and that, and preparing thus and so, and even setting start dates for their broods.  I don't have any excuses other than I just don't want to think about it yet.  And I'm thinking that it is still going to be awhile before I seriously think about it again.  Because I'm just not ready.


4.  I'm not sure why we invest money in video game systems and other pricey entertainment devices for the children.  The boys have happened upon the wonder of a $2.99 package of plastic Solo cups.  I've been handling this buying toys thing all wrong.  Never underestimate the power of paper products.

Oh..and please pardon the undies-only.  The boys aren't known for wearing an abundance of clothing around the house.

5.  I am on a mission this week to see how long I can postpone a much needed trip to the grocery store.  The fact that the husband is out of deodorant, and that I just fed him a peanut butter and jelly sandwich for lunch may indicate that I need to go sooner than later.  But still....I've never backed down from a challenge. 

And with that....
That's all.

Me No Likey the VooDoo

I don't know how you desktop people do it.

I'm currently tethered on a short leash of cord to the internet box thingy which means I can't move freely from place of comfort to place of comfort with my laptop.  And it is driving me banonkers.

Dern storm.

A couple of weeks ago this freaky 3.4 second storm blew over our house and zapped our transformer with its crazy zappy voodoo lightning powers.  The same voodoo powers caused a force field to form around our house that kept all manner of electricity personnel from entering our vicinity for a full 16 hours.  And while it was at it, the voodoo powers stealthily sucked the lifebreath out of three of our appliances.  Sneaky sucker.

Funeral services have been held for our microwave, our landline telephone, and our wireless router.

I cried the least for our landline.  Because now telemarketers can't find me.

I wasn't devastated about the  microwave either.  We'd had the same one since the invention of water, and it was disgustingly close to being slapped with a bright red BioHazard sticker.  I actually looked on its departure as a blessing.  My new shiny microwave is at least 10 years away from a good scrubbing, so I'm set.

The passing of our wireless router, however, has caused me to increase my anti-depressant dosage.  For one, I don't like to sit still.  And if I have to sit still, I want to sit still in my bed.  Or in my chair.  Or on the couch.  NOT in a dining room chair.  Which is where I have to sit now if I want to use my computer because SOMEONE decided that the dining room was a fantastic place to put the internet box thingy when we first got it.  The lack of wireless pumping through the veins of our house also means that the computer that the boys use doesn't have internet access anymore.  So whose computer do you think they peck their peanut buttered and jellied up fingers all over when they want to check on their chirpy chickens from Farmville?  Mine. MiNE.  MINE.  But I'm not bitter.  I just need a Xanax.

Oh sure, I could go to the store and get a new router.  And it's on my list of things to do. 

But the zappy voodoo magic also stole all my motivation.  So it's easier to just sit here and whine about it.

Dern voodoo.

Friday Brain Jumpings

I had hairapy this morning. 

I plopped myself down in the chair and while my sweetie-pie of a hairdresser wrapped me up in her swanky zebra striped cape, I told her that I would be her blank canvas today. 

I tend to have a severe case of A.D.D. when it comes to most things in my life, but my hair is a major case in point.  I can only stand to have the same cut for awhile, and then I'm bored out of my mind.  I'll spend umpteen months growing out on-my-nerves bangs, only to waltz right back into the salon to have her cut me a new set.  And I'd change the color of my hair just as often if I could afford the sticker price. 

Thank the Precious Lord, I have a hairdresser that I trust wholly and completely.  So today I just let her do her thang. 

And I'm so happy that I did. 

I'm now outfitted with a flippy swingy sassy new summer 'do. 

But you'll have to wait to see pictures...because I've worn all the day's mascara off and the big zit on my chin is shining....and I just found out that lots of folks in my town read my blog that I didn't know read my blog and now I'm suffering from major issues of self-conscious-isms. 

UPDATE:  I've reapplied my mascara and am now ready to be seen in public. 

Moving on.

While I was at hairapy, the boys were busy driving their drama teacher banonkers.  Our homeschool group is putting on a fantastic performance of Peter Pan tonight, and they have been dress rehearsing all day. 

I'm very excited to see the play this evening, but I am planning on stuffing a Xanax or three in my purse and slipping it to the director before the first curtain comes up.  Because if she wasn't crazy before for taking on such a huge project with our rowdy group of hellions, she, for sure, is crazy now. 

Speaking of crazy....

Did you watch Grey's Anatomy last night?  Shut.the.window.and.call.me.Edgar.  I think that episode drained 5 years off my life. 

While we're on the topic of my life....

In an effort to spare my children's lives and my sanity, school is officially out for summer.  No, we didn't technically totally "finish."  But, yes, we accomplished what we needed to to successfully pass everyone on to the next grade.  I think if we had spent any longer trying to do schoolwork just for the sake of saying we were doing schoolwork, then all 4 of us would be dead.  And I probably would have taken the husband down with us....just for looking at me the wrong way. 

So hooray for summer vacation!!

Speaking of summer vacation....

We're almost exactly a month away from boarding a plane for Mexico and holding down a couple of beach chairs for a week.  I've never been  more excited about doing absolutely nothing in all my life.  The only thing I'm dreading about the trip is that a swimsuit is required wardrobe.  And a swimsuit is the last thing I want to outfit my body in right now.  But I still have a month.....

Surely I will morph into Heidi Klum by then.

I'm sure of it.

OOOHHH...Heidi makes me think of famous people...which makes me think of American Idol...

What about that cutie pie Lee Dewyze??  I've been his Numero Uno fan from the beginning, and when he started crying with his daddy on this past week's show, I was done.in.  Love me some Lee.

In other news, our sweet precious niece Moriah graduated from high school this past weekend in Missouri.  We made the trek to Nowheresville to share her big night, and we were accompanied by more Budweiser t-shirts and do-rags than even a motorcycle rally could stand.  High.Class.Peeps.I'm.Tellin'.Ya. 

But oh.so.proud of her. 

Isn't she the cutest?

Cute.  I'll show you cute.  Have you ever seen anything more precious? 

That's Tate.  Our teeny tiny feller that breathes, eats, sleeps, and dreams baseball but can barely fill out the toddler sized baseball pants.  Couldn't you just eat him with a spoon??  I know!  Me, too...so back off.  I have first dibs.

And in an effort to be all fair in love and offspring, here are my other baseball stud muffins. 

Still cute as pie, but they've moved out of the spoon-worthy stage, which makes my uterus mourn.  Sniff.

On that note...

That's all.

Dear Abb...uh...Rascal Raiser

Dear Rascal Raiser,

I have noticed that your presence online lately has been as vague as the hair is big in Texas.  Just wondering where you and your Arkansas-sized hair have disappeared to.

Signed,
Used Six Cans of AquaNet Just This Morning

          ~~~~~~~~~~

Dear AquaNet,

Here's hoping that you can see clearly enough through your hairspray sticky contact lenses to read this letter.  Thank you for your concern about my web-related absence.  I assure you that I and the family are all fine.  Just logging more hours at everywhere else but home.

Here are the highlights:

1.  I was bit by a spider.  Again.  I have been hard at work practicing my web-shooting abilities and sewing up my Spidey Suit.

2.  I have been in the gym every.single.dingity.dangity.armadillo.lovin'.day with Jennie the Sceery Trainer.  I have never experienced so much intimidation and trepidation in all my life as weigh-in day.  She hurts me.  And I think she likes it.

3.  I have been providing fence-climbing exhibitions at ballfields across the state.  Some mothers choose to sit calmly in their camp chairs and perfect their pageant claps.  Not me.  I like to cause a scene.  And with ballgames x 3 almost every single night and most weekends, I have lots of scene-makin' time.  Hoopin' and hollerin' ain't got nuthin' on this mama.

4.  I've been celebrating birthdays.  One of the besties, J-Fo, celebrated the 16th anniversary of her 20th birthday this past weekend, and being an excellent example of a great friend, I made sure her big day was done up right.  I'll let her tell you where we ended up because it's her bid'ness to tell, but it might start with a "T" and rhyme with "rattoo."  And I'll deny telling you about it if she asks me.....

5.  Another birthday that I've been celebrating, though did not end up at a "rattoo" parlor, is my darling baby's.  Yep.  My baby turned 6.  SIX!  Big kids are 6.  Kids that can read.  And sass their mamas.  And fix their own sandwiches.  Not my baby.  Not Tate.  Oh, dear me.  My uterus hurts.

6.  I've been surviving tornadoes.  Our area was pelted by the twisty suckers this past weekend, and we spent lots of quality family bonding time hunkered down in the hall huddled around the weather radio.  All that was missing were the smores.  And that whole no-tornado-warning thing.

7.  I thought tornadoes were bad.  What might possibly be worse is Sawyer during a tornado.  My son is now obsessed with the weather and compulsively checks the forecast on my phone every 5 minutes checking for storm percentages.  We're looking into therapy. You think I'm kidding.

8.  And when I'm not hunkering in halls, or taking peeps for "rattoos," or being eaten alive by spiders, or fence-climbing....I've been hanging out in my laundry room.  And trying to find my floors under all the mud that is tracked in with the baseball cleats.  And eating food that resembles tree bark because Jennie the Sceery told me to. 

So, you see, sweet reader, all is well in our corner of the world.  Just busy.  And crazy.  And maddening.

And just so you know...I would give my right earlobe for a hunk of chocolate cake right now. 

Signed,
Rascal Raiser (Who is Starving)

Things I Don't Understand

1.  Splinters.  I do not understand splinters.  Well, I guess I understand splinters, but I do not understand why my offspring would rather walk around with a 2x4 in their foot than just letting me dig around and pry the sucker out with my ultra dull tweezers get it out.  I also do not understand why the Feds didn't show up at my house 20 minutes ago when they heard the deafening screams of my child as I sat on him and performed minor surgery.  If I was a Fed, I would've showed up.  For sure.

2.  People Who Spend More On Outfitting Their Child For Baseball Than On Their Mortgage.   All of our boys play baseball.  It's in their blood.  I'm pretty sure if you look hard enough you can see their body parts seamed together with tough red stitching.  And that's all well and fine.  Because I'm the first to admit that I'm all about some baseball and some fence-climbing cheering calmly from the sidelines.  But I'm super proud to admit that we are not some of those baseball parents.  Sawyer played in a tournament yesterday with his little traveling team, and we looked like the Bad News Bears out there.  While our little hand-me-down uniforms stayed half-untucked and our cleats stayed untied, the other teams there sported their F.A.I.N.C.Y. spun-with-gold-by-the-Dalai-Lama-himself uniforms, matching team bat bags, and matchy glittery personalized batting helmets.  Oy.Vey.  I'll take scrappy and grass-stained, thank you very much.

3.  Personal Trainers.  I guess I shouldn't hold Jennie-From-Hades-the-Trainer responsible.  I, after all, am paying her the husband's hard-earned cash to practice medieval torture methods on me, but I don't understand why she has to be so serious.  Like when she said, "No eating out for 3 weeks.  Just order water."  Whahuh?  Water?  Holy Roman Hydrogen, Batman, this is going to be a long month.

4.  The Husband.  He has an appointment with an orthopedic surgeon tomorrow.  For a surgery consultation on his knee.  SURGERY.  Did you hear me?  Let me repeat, because evidently the concept is hard to understand...at least for the husband....SURGERY.  But yet, he felt compelled to sign up for the church softball team when they called a couple of nights ago.  Makes perfect sense to me.  Go out with a bang, I guess.  Literally.

5.  Boys Who Want Mohawks.  Yep. I'm still skirting around that one.  As of right now, Sawyer still has a head full of hair.  And for those of you who asked:  No, Puck from GLEE's hair is not okay. 

That's All.

Carsick Much?

Are you a carsicker person?  Because I tend to be.  It actually depends on who's driving, but I'm not going to get into calling people out on their driving skilz, so we'll just say that SOME people make me totally and absurdly sick.  And I actually think that I'm one of the people that make people sick, because I'm a self-professed bad driver.  I just want to get where I'm going...and if I have to take a curve slightly too sharp, then so be it. 

There's your PSA for the day.  Don't ride with me.  You're welcome.

And in keeping with the theme for the day, this post also is most assuredly going to give you the queaves and quakes in the tummiculur region.  My sincerest apologies....but buck up, take a Dramamine, and hang on...

First curve in the road:   Endure looking at my family's Easter pictures.

Now sharp right:  Look at the eggs we dyed.

Slam on the brakes at a stoplight:  Look at my kids showing off the eggs they found in the hunt.

While you're waiting at the stoplight:  Ponder that the oldest kid looks less than thrilled to be alive that day, let alone about having his picture made.

Green means "Go."  Foot on the gas:  Look what I've been eating.  But don't tell my bootcamp trainers.  They're scary.

Big turn ahead.  Brace yourself:  Look what I've been reading.

Hang on.  Going around curve on two wheels:  Listen to me tell you that that book is probably the funniest thing I have ever read.  Ever.  Ever ever ever.  But only read it if you are okay with making fun of yourself.  If you aren't....then pretend like I never said anything.  (Go here to read Jon Acuff's blog...just as funny as the book!)

Screeching halt.  Random vermin in the road.  And our car doesn't look good dressed in vermin:  Listen to me tell you who my top pick for American Idol is.  Yep.  It's Lee.  I likey him very muchly.

Big dog-ear turn to the left:  You mentioned a trainer?  Yep.  I'm in this crazy outdoor bootcamp that I joined during a momentary lapse in sanity.  I now have my own Jillian and Bob.  And I'm eating stuff that resembles horse food....because they told me to. 

What?  Wanting to throw yourself from this moving vehicle?  I don't blame you.  Go ahead jump.  But if you do, you'd miss this:

That's right.  Another look as the husband modeling the Savior of the World's hair.   

That never gets old.

Ever.

That's all.