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| um...this freaks me out a bit... :) |
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| My little |
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| Crazy hair day...and went overboard adding crazy eyes... |
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| participating in a very serious game of bad-mitten-waiting for the birdie...and waiting some more... |
Kids
Wednesday, May 25, 2011
Worth a thousand words
Monday, May 23, 2011
The Paparazzi
I seem to be having a hard time getting photos taken. I know it seems like a simple problem. A solvable one even. I'm not sure if I'm spending too much time trying not to lose my kids, or if I'm getting lazy...
But holy smoke...
My sweet husband even got me a new camera for my birthday (notice there was not one single post about my birthday and how old I now am...lets just say, I forgive you for not sending me 40 black balloons.).
I love the camera and it is exactly what I wanted. A simple camera, but an upgrade from what I have. I have even used it...a lot. Yet it is hard to prove.
Here enter the need for Paparazzi.
I had an awesome lunch with my sister and mom yesterday. Not one photo.
We had friends over this weekend - eating and swimming and enjoying the new pool. Not one photo.
A-Dog had a game on Saturday. Not one photo.
Do you see a pattern?
I even had the new camera at the game on Saturday and never pulled it out. The game was so awful and the mere thought of recording one memory of it seemed wrong. It was a loss for the record books because I don't think any other team has given up that many runs in one game. Y@rd Dogs are in first place for runs given up....if there is a medal for that, we would get a big one.
But I digress.
What I need is a Paparazzi.
They could follow me and my gang around. Photograph us. Heck, they can even post to my blog and I could write the story of what is going on in the picture.
Like this:
My guess is that my Paparazzi should be older than 3 or 6.
Because what can I really say about these 2 photos? My children have fingers that are larger than their heads?
Just sayin'.
But holy smoke...
My sweet husband even got me a new camera for my birthday (notice there was not one single post about my birthday and how old I now am...lets just say, I forgive you for not sending me 40 black balloons.).
I love the camera and it is exactly what I wanted. A simple camera, but an upgrade from what I have. I have even used it...a lot. Yet it is hard to prove.
Here enter the need for Paparazzi.
I had an awesome lunch with my sister and mom yesterday. Not one photo.
We had friends over this weekend - eating and swimming and enjoying the new pool. Not one photo.
A-Dog had a game on Saturday. Not one photo.
Do you see a pattern?
I even had the new camera at the game on Saturday and never pulled it out. The game was so awful and the mere thought of recording one memory of it seemed wrong. It was a loss for the record books because I don't think any other team has given up that many runs in one game. Y@rd Dogs are in first place for runs given up....if there is a medal for that, we would get a big one.
But I digress.
What I need is a Paparazzi.
They could follow me and my gang around. Photograph us. Heck, they can even post to my blog and I could write the story of what is going on in the picture.
Like this:
My guess is that my Paparazzi should be older than 3 or 6.
Because what can I really say about these 2 photos? My children have fingers that are larger than their heads?
Just sayin'.
Thursday, May 19, 2011
The season of Baseball
T-ball is now over. Thank goodness. I'm not saying we didn't enjoy it, we did. Who doesn't like repeating themselves 625 times a game? Every game.
"put down the bat, sit down, hands to yourself, run to first, stop picking grass, run to second, stop chewing your glove, stand up, stop kicking dirt, don't put dirt in your hat, oh for the love of baseball - you have to potty AGAIN?, "...rinse and repeat.
I think that T-ball is such a difficult sport to teach...so many rules and strategies. I say this not as a parent or a former softball player, but as a someone who has coached T-ball teams.
I say this as someone who parents expect miracles from.
The parents bring their sweet little person that is barely old enough to get to the bathroom alone and hope we can turn them into the next All Star. They yell and cheer from the stands - thinking that somehow the kids can hear them. Really? They can hardly hear the coaches standing right next to them.
Our hope as coaches is that we can teach them to RUN TO FIRST BASE AFTER YOU HIT THE BALL. Everything else is just icing on the cake.
We ended the season 12 and 0, because in T-ball. We are all winners :) Plus, we only misplaced 1 player...once. And he was quickly found and returned to the dugout.
And then there is Pony League. Ahhh, much better...and they find first base without all the yelling and shouting and whatnot. Most of the time.
(those photos of ADog are NOT compliments of ME. They are compliments of the dad with the very cool camera with a zoom lens 9 inches long)
What would we do if we were not going to games and practices 5 times a week?
Certainly not cry. There is no crying in baseball.
"put down the bat, sit down, hands to yourself, run to first, stop picking grass, run to second, stop chewing your glove, stand up, stop kicking dirt, don't put dirt in your hat, oh for the love of baseball - you have to potty AGAIN?, "...rinse and repeat.
I think that T-ball is such a difficult sport to teach...so many rules and strategies. I say this not as a parent or a former softball player, but as a someone who has coached T-ball teams.
I say this as someone who parents expect miracles from.
The parents bring their sweet little person that is barely old enough to get to the bathroom alone and hope we can turn them into the next All Star. They yell and cheer from the stands - thinking that somehow the kids can hear them. Really? They can hardly hear the coaches standing right next to them.
Our hope as coaches is that we can teach them to RUN TO FIRST BASE AFTER YOU HIT THE BALL. Everything else is just icing on the cake.
We ended the season 12 and 0, because in T-ball. We are all winners :) Plus, we only misplaced 1 player...once. And he was quickly found and returned to the dugout.
And then there is Pony League. Ahhh, much better...and they find first base without all the yelling and shouting and whatnot. Most of the time.
(those photos of ADog are NOT compliments of ME. They are compliments of the dad with the very cool camera with a zoom lens 9 inches long)
What would we do if we were not going to games and practices 5 times a week?
Certainly not cry. There is no crying in baseball.
Monday, May 9, 2011
Happy 6th Birthday Agent P
(If you were ever wondering why we call this particular child Agent P, it is because he has no issues with dropping his drawers and peeing...where ever. Something he is nearly grown out of.)
To Wyatt on his 6th birthday -
Today you are 6 years old and you can hardly stay in your skin you are so excited! You have been waiting for this day to come for months, and have been crazy about it since the calendar changed to May.
I am so blessed to be your mama. I cannot believe that God trusts me with such a wild spirit and a large heart. You are beyond what simple words can describe.
You live every moment, push every boundary, create chaos out of calm and give 100% from the time you get up until you go to bed. You ask questions I've never heard and rarely know the answer to. You are stubborn and head strong. I'm afraid you might be too much like your mama my sweet boy. I am sorry for that.
You are so smart my sweet boy, and you thirst for knowledge. You love to watch the History Channel with your daddy (or alone) and he is so grateful that someone will do that with him. You truly love it and it holds your attention for the entire show. You love to read books about dinosaurs, spiders, bugs, animals - anything with facts that you can learn. You are such a great reader and are work so hard to sound out even the hardest of words.
Some days you make me so frustrated one minute and the next fill my heart so full of love for you I could cry. I am sorry if I sometimes yell...you just don't seem to hear me so well when I ask 3 times nicely :).
Thank you Agent P for having the courage to be YOU. Thank you for showing me that my world can be upside down and chaotic and it will all be OK. Thank you for coming to us 6 years ago today and changing our world in such a way that we could never turn back.
You are loved more than I can tell you and without you - my life would be dull and boring!
Happy Birthday!
To Wyatt on his 6th birthday -
Today you are 6 years old and you can hardly stay in your skin you are so excited! You have been waiting for this day to come for months, and have been crazy about it since the calendar changed to May.
I am so blessed to be your mama. I cannot believe that God trusts me with such a wild spirit and a large heart. You are beyond what simple words can describe.
You live every moment, push every boundary, create chaos out of calm and give 100% from the time you get up until you go to bed. You ask questions I've never heard and rarely know the answer to. You are stubborn and head strong. I'm afraid you might be too much like your mama my sweet boy. I am sorry for that.
You are so smart my sweet boy, and you thirst for knowledge. You love to watch the History Channel with your daddy (or alone) and he is so grateful that someone will do that with him. You truly love it and it holds your attention for the entire show. You love to read books about dinosaurs, spiders, bugs, animals - anything with facts that you can learn. You are such a great reader and are work so hard to sound out even the hardest of words.
Some days you make me so frustrated one minute and the next fill my heart so full of love for you I could cry. I am sorry if I sometimes yell...you just don't seem to hear me so well when I ask 3 times nicely :).
Thank you Agent P for having the courage to be YOU. Thank you for showing me that my world can be upside down and chaotic and it will all be OK. Thank you for coming to us 6 years ago today and changing our world in such a way that we could never turn back.
You are loved more than I can tell you and without you - my life would be dull and boring!
Happy Birthday!
Tuesday, May 3, 2011
Dang Varmint
I am sure many of you would be very surprised to know that I am not really fond of little critters that scurry about. That they literally freak. me. out.! They are not my friends and I don't pretend that they are.
You may not be surprised to find out I've been known to scream like a little girl at the mere thought of an encounter with one of those rabid little hairy creatures.
Ok, I'm sure that they aren't rabid, and sure, maybe they are more afraid of me than I am of them...but I find it highly unlikely.
So, can you imagine what happened when A-Dog came in one day, to tell me there was something floating in the pool and I really needed to come quick?
Maybe you can't imagine...But, I was a pillar of strength. Or a pillar that would not be budged from the kitchen. I was very busy contemplating dinner or thinking I should scrub the grout in the tile. Anything to appear VERY busy.
A-Dog is genetically predisposed to over reacting to spiders, bees and little creatures that scurry about. So, his recount of what was actually out there was somewhat unreliable. But he said it was a "yard rat thingy floating in the pool".
It was decided that the best way to deal with this was to call Dad. Immediately.
He wasvery not sympathetic.
At all.
In fact, I'm sure he laughed. A Lot.
BUT, I informed him he would accompany us as we walked out with to check out the situation. Sometimes A-Dog cannot be trusted on the actual size of icky creatures. Again, it's genetic and I don't fault him. His Gramma is the same way.
So, after warning my sweet husband there would be screaming, we ventured out into the pool area.
Here it was...prepare yourselves friends...
A-Dog and I argued a bit...I tried to pull the mama card and tell him he HAD to removed said varmint. It didn't work. It was best we hung up the phone or it likely would be landing in the pool at any point in which this mama freaked out.
We decided that we would BOTH remove the varmint-TOGETHER. So, we got the pool net - extended as far as it would go.
(We discussed what we would do if when we pulled it above the water and it started moving and running at us. (Please I beg of you, don't ask how that conversation went. It is embarrassing for us both.) )
We stuck the net in the pool, lifted the varmint up in the net. He was very dead. Thank you very much.
At this point, we are still both holding the pole - but we needed to get the gate open. UGH. I let go, and A-Dog got him thru the gate with our 12 foot pole.
We walked about 3 feet and I said to A-Dog "ok, you walk over there and throw him into the dessert". "WHAT??? HOW???"
I demonstrated with my invisible pole. Move pole behind you, lift quicly over the top of you and sling it out - in a rainbow motion. BUT, do not, I repeat DO NOT stop when the pole is over your head - or the dang varmint will land on you. I assured him screaming was A-OK.
We stood there looking at each other for what seemed like days - but was probably only 10 seconds.
Then...he DID IT!
Now, I'm sure you are wondering to yourself...WHY ON EARTH DID YOU STOP AND TAKE A PICTURE??????
It was from my phone. It was in my pocket. And we prevailed.
The varmint was gone, and it didn't land on us in any way.
You may not be surprised to find out I've been known to scream like a little girl at the mere thought of an encounter with one of those rabid little hairy creatures.
Ok, I'm sure that they aren't rabid, and sure, maybe they are more afraid of me than I am of them...but I find it highly unlikely.
So, can you imagine what happened when A-Dog came in one day, to tell me there was something floating in the pool and I really needed to come quick?
Maybe you can't imagine...But, I was a pillar of strength. Or a pillar that would not be budged from the kitchen. I was very busy contemplating dinner or thinking I should scrub the grout in the tile. Anything to appear VERY busy.
A-Dog is genetically predisposed to over reacting to spiders, bees and little creatures that scurry about. So, his recount of what was actually out there was somewhat unreliable. But he said it was a "yard rat thingy floating in the pool".
It was decided that the best way to deal with this was to call Dad. Immediately.
He was
At all.
In fact, I'm sure he laughed. A Lot.
BUT, I informed him he would accompany us as we walked out with to check out the situation. Sometimes A-Dog cannot be trusted on the actual size of icky creatures. Again, it's genetic and I don't fault him. His Gramma is the same way.
So, after warning my sweet husband there would be screaming, we ventured out into the pool area.
Here it was...prepare yourselves friends...
 |
| hairy varmint that no longer scurries...I hope. |
We decided that we would BOTH remove the varmint-TOGETHER. So, we got the pool net - extended as far as it would go.
(We discussed what we would do if when we pulled it above the water and it started moving and running at us. (Please I beg of you, don't ask how that conversation went. It is embarrassing for us both.) )
We stuck the net in the pool, lifted the varmint up in the net. He was very dead. Thank you very much.
At this point, we are still both holding the pole - but we needed to get the gate open. UGH. I let go, and A-Dog got him thru the gate with our 12 foot pole.
We walked about 3 feet and I said to A-Dog "ok, you walk over there and throw him into the dessert". "WHAT??? HOW???"
I demonstrated with my invisible pole. Move pole behind you, lift quicly over the top of you and sling it out - in a rainbow motion. BUT, do not, I repeat DO NOT stop when the pole is over your head - or the dang varmint will land on you. I assured him screaming was A-OK.
We stood there looking at each other for what seemed like days - but was probably only 10 seconds.
Then...he DID IT!
Now, I'm sure you are wondering to yourself...WHY ON EARTH DID YOU STOP AND TAKE A PICTURE??????
It was from my phone. It was in my pocket. And we prevailed.
The varmint was gone, and it didn't land on us in any way.
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