A Couple Bits of Humor

You ever have those mothering moments when you know you shouldn't laugh, but just can't help it? Well, Wyatt has been so excited for the Little Hoopsters Basketball season to start, and his new coach FINALLY called to let him know about his first practice tonight. He got dressed in his best basketball attire in record time, then decided he'd better warm up before we leave to the practice. He dribbled the ball around our kitchen a little, then proceeded to tell me that he was one of the best defenders in his class when they practice at recess. I asked him to show me some of his moves, and what happened next will forever be burned in my memory. You know those times when you wish you had a video camera attached to your forehead that was constantly running? Well, this was one of those times. I can't even describe what he did- it was like a sideways running man with a little YMCA mixed in. Just a sec- I have to laugh again just thinking about it. Zane and I looked at each other, and all I could think was "don't laugh- just DON'T laugh..." but it was useless. All of a sudden, before I could stop it, the silly grin on my face exploded into gut wrenching laughter. Zane too. We just couldn't help it. While I was laughing hysterically with my face buried in a pillow, I told myself to come up with a reason for the laughter, because I knew Wyatt would ask what was so funny, but I just couldn't. Well, when I finally calmed down, after multiple aftershock spasms of giggles, he asked. I just told him that those were some of the most amazing moves I'd ever seen and it just caught me off guard. Thankfully he accepted that and went off to practice his dribbling and other moves. Then I looked at Zane and busted up again. Yes, good job Mom. Way to build the self esteem. Anyways, this should be an interesting basketball season, as well as very entertaining.



For the next bit of amusement, every time I walk out into my garage I have to smile. Hanging on the wall all along one side are about nine or ten garbage sacs filled with empty pop cans. A good neighbor friend of ours brought them over because they knew our kids collect cans to turn into the recycling center. The thing that makes this funny is every single sac is filled with almost nothing but Diet Coke cans. Every now and then you might spot a root beer can or some other flavor, but 99.99 percent of the cans are Diet Coke. I don't know how long it took this particular family to collect so many, and I didn't ask, but I suspect that it wasn't as long as you might think. Anyways, thanks for the cans- now that I got this on the blog, I'll let the kids take them over to the recycling center. They'll be excited to earn a few dollars each from your donation, and I'll have a smile in my heart every time I think about it. By the way- any guesses on who the generous Diet Coke addicts are?

ZZZZZZ

I really wanted to write another post right now, but my desire to take a nap won out. Sorry.

Merry Christmas and a Happy Boxing Day!

I love Christmas. The whole hustle and bustle thing, the excitement of children when they see Santa at the mall (or on a forklift at Walmart), the emails that circulate with stories that remind us of the true meaning of the holiday (as well as the ones with cartoon pics of Rudolph measuring Santa's behind to see if it will fit down the chimney), and the fact that people in general are kinder to each other. They'll hold the door for you in the store, strangers say Merry Christmas to you, and they cut you off, honk at you, steal your parking spot, and show you that certain finger less. My family had a very nice Christmas this year. My kids only woke up at 6:00am, which could have been worse. They seemed to really like their presents, and the items of clothing that need to be returned because they didn't fit are only numbered on one hand. Though I love the season, Christmas day wears on me a little bit. We have to rush around to parents and grandparents houses (some that live an hour and a half away) so we don't get much time to sit and enjoy the day and each other. It's hard to remember the true meaning of the day when your mind is completely filled with schedules of when you have to be everywhere. I always feel bad that our kids are shuffled around so much that they don't get to sit and play with their gifts until later. That's why I've adopted Boxing Day as my favorite holiday. Let me just say that the Canadians were total geniuses for coming up with this "holiday." Boxing Day is the day after Christmas and was meant to be a day off for the household help. Maids, butlers, etc. spend Christmas making sure that their bosses have a nice day, so December 26 is their day to sit back, relax, and enjoy the holiday with their own families. For the last couple of years on the day after Christmas, my kids and I spend the entire day in our pajamas and do nothing except play with the new gifts. I put together all the toys, we try out all the games, and we watch a couple of the new movies the kids got. We don't pick up anything, put anything away, and we certainly don't clean (my kids say that there's absolutely no shopping, either). I love sitting back and enjoying a little of the Christmas cheer we missed out on in the hustle of the day before. You might be wondering why I feel entitled to celebrate this day. Aren't we all who are mothers and housewives just like maids? Don't we all feel like unappreciated servants at times? So there you go. Boxing Day applies to us to... and even if it doesn't, I'm sure the Canadians don't mind sharing. So if any of you are in need of a new tradition, or just a wonderful excuse to relax, you might want to try it out next year. I hope you all are enjoying the holidays and wish everyone a Happy New Year!







P.S. This last pic is what happens after running around so much on Christmas day. We got to grandma's, sat Maycie down on the couch, and less than two minutes later, she ended up like this. Hopefully there's some sugar plums dancing around somewhere...

Dumb Mom

You know you're in the running for the Mother of the Year award when your one and a half year old puts herself to bed. I'm sitting here at the computer wondering why I can't hear Maycie playing anymore, and I look at the clock and think, "Oh my heck! How did it get to be so late so fast? Where did that kid go?" I thought I told her a few minutes ago to go get me her blankie and I'd rock her, but I'm now realizing that it's been a little longer than I thought (okay, quite a bit longer). I stop tapping the computer keys for a minute to listen, and I think that I can hear breathing coming from somewhere. I look around but can't see her anywhere, so I think I must be imagining it. I start tapping away again, but stop when I think I hear a sigh. This time I actually stand up to go search for my mischievous little Maycie and my foot touches something soft. I look down under my feet and see the sweetest little angel (aren't they all angels when they're sleeping?) curled up on her blankie under the computer desk, fast asleep. Yes, I have no idea how she got there. Yes, I feel like a big fat louse for neglecting her. Yes, I must be stupid or something for admitting this when everyone already thinks I'm a few tacos shy of a combo. But what the heck- it's just too cute and I can't resist posting the pics, even if they could be viewed as incriminating evidence. So you better hurry up and cast your ballots now folks- I'm closing in fast on the lead for that award.

Quirky Quirks

Hello again, it's time for another tag! (Thanks Kath and Selina!) I'm gonna try to be brief here (yeah, right) and get through it quickly. Kathleen's tag is the 6 quirks tag, and Selina's is the 7 crazy quirks tag. Since they are about the same, I'll combine them and save myself from trying to think up 13 quirks- though for those of you who know me, I am mostly made up of quirks. There's probably only 6 or 7 normal things about me! The rules go as follows: You post a link to the person's blog who tagged you, list 6 (or 7) quirks including habits or unusual things about yourself, tag 6 (or 7) people, and leave a comment on their blog letting them know they've been tagged. So let's go.

http://trentandkathbeardall.blogspot.com
http://selinaandcameron.blogspot.com

1. I'm OCD. I've mentioned this before, so I'll just leave it at that. If anyone is really interested in the details of this, they can check out my previous tag posts.

2. I can't not finish a book or movie, even if I think it's really stupid. Once I start one, I just have to know how it ends. I'll suffer through the most boring stuff just to not leave the story unfinished. It's also impossible for me to fall asleep during a movie, no matter how dumb it is or how tired I am. My brain just won't let me.

3. I buy things I really want and then never get around to using them. It's not like compulsive buying- I think about things and decide carefully before I make a purchase, and I'm usually happy with the decision. I just don't get around to putting things together, setting things up, or if it's something to wear, I'll save it for nice occasions because I want to keep it looking perfect. I know- it's stupid.

4. If my house starts to get really messy, I get overwhelmed and can't stand it. I'll leave and go somewhere just so I don't have to look at it, but then it just gets worse and I feel worse. When I finally build up enough drive to dive in, I can't stop for anything until it's done- if my kids are hungry, they'll just have to fend for themselves. If my hubby needs something, he'll just have to wait. Okay, I will take a break to go get a Pepsi. Oh, yeah- if anyone shows up at my door while I'm in cleaning mode, I'll hide stuff in the oven.

5. I comment during TV shows and movies. I can't help it, my inner thoughts just slip out. I do try to limit it to when there's no dialogue going on, though. Let's just say I had a field day during the Twilight movie! (p.s. I'm a freak about Twilight, so if anyone knocks the movie or any of it's characters in any way, you'll have to answer to me!!)

6. I stay up late almost every night. It doesn't matter how many times I've told myself to go to bed earlier, I just can't. Even if I'm tired, I find my second wind and can't seem to settle down till long past midnight. Maybe it's because that's the only time I have to myself, when everyone is asleep and it's quiet. I catch up on reading, my favorite shows I've missed, and blogging (of course)!

7. I'm a freak about jeans right now. I would have to say it's my newest obsession. I've gotten into googling different styles and finding them on the Internet. The more detail on the pockets, the better! I've found some really good deals on some cute brands, and my favorites list is miles long with fun stores and cool styles.

Lastly, we get to the tagging other people part. I'm not sure who's already done this one, so feel free to ignore this if you have. Jami E., Haley E., Sheri G., Angie J., Candace A., Melissa T., and Melissa O.- have fun!!

Disaster Child

Okay, so I'm not your normal blogger. I probably should be more like all of you fellow bloggers out there and post more on birthdays, holidays, family happenings, etc. But I don't, and for a lot of reasons. First of all, I always get behind and I hate going back and posting on things that happened months (or even weeks) ago. I'd never catch up and I'd drive myself absolutely insane. So if any of you are waiting for a Fall or Halloween post, too bad- it's not gonna happen. My second reason for not conforming to normal blog standards is I like to post the stuff that makes me laugh- even if I can't laugh at some of it yet, I know I'll get a kick out of looking back at some of that crazy stuff later. If it's not things that makes me laugh, it's issues that I feel are worth trashing on. I don't know- maybe someday I'll regret not posting more journal-worthy things, but for now, I guess this is just my style. So where to begin? I have a lot of laugh-inducing material to document so I believe I'll start there. Then maybe I'll get to some heavier topics another day. Or maybe not. Anyways...

Any parent's greatest source of humor has to come from their kids, and that holds true for me as well. I'm not sure why, but it seems like the younger that kids are, the funnier they are. Scholars write books on understanding the opposite sex- Men are from Mars, Women are from Venus- that kind of crap. I think their time would be much better served trying to understand why kids do the things they do. My youngest Maycie monster is always a wealth of entertainment, and I honestly wish I could sneak a peek into the workings of her mind to see where she gets her inspiration. Though she is an absolutely delightful child, she is the epitome of the phrase chaos and destruction. I can't understand how she finds the energy to demolish room after room on a daily basis, and I have aged 10 years trying to keep up with her. I know all kids between the ages of 1-3 are known to get into everything, but my Maycie is special. She doesn't just get into any random cupboard and empty it, she tends to pick favorites. Right now she is specializing in the ones containing crayons, craft supplies including glass beads, and cleaning products (especially Windex). Tupperware is just too boring for her anymore. Even if I try to be clever and switch things around, she finds what she wants. As I recounted in a previous post, one of Maycies most favorite things to play with were tampons. Well, that is SO yesterday. She has discovered the joys of unwrapping Maxi Pads, peeling off the backings, and sticking them to things (usually herself). Whenever my doorbell rings, I have to take a minute to make sure there are no pads stuck to the stair railings, the TV, the furniture, or anything else in sight. Another very recent Maycie experience included calling poison control because she ate half a stick of deodorant. I'm not sure why this particular child revels in all things gross. Lets look back at her history, shall we? She started with emptying every garbage can she could get ahold of and playing with all the disgusting contents. Then she discovered that toilet caps come off and make fun toys. Moving on to tampons, maxi pads, and deodorant- I just don't want to think about what might be next. For those of you thinking, "why doesn't she put things up or strap that child in a highchair?" Here's your answer. This kid can climb. If she wants it, she'll find a way to get to it no matter where it's hidden or how high I put it. If something she wants is truly out of reach, then she'll just find something even worse to get into. As to restraining, we've tried everything. Maycie can get out of even the toughest strap systems. It doesn't matter how tightly they are done up, she'll wiggle free. For example, I bought a new counter chair that was recommended to me by a friend which has a five point harness system, but Maycie beat it. We even tried reinforcing it with en extra camera strap, but that didn't work either. I believe she'd even be able to find a way out of a straight jacket. If Houdini needs a new assistant in a few years, I'm sure he'll be wanting this minerature escape artist. The disasters are so frequent that I can't even get mad anymore. A couple of nights ago when my darling baby dumped a bottle of nail polish into my jetted master bathtub, exploding the entire bottle of bright neon blue everywhere, I couldn't even find any strength left in me to scold her. I just shrugged, rolled my eyes, and told my husband that we needed to get to work- it was going to be a long night. A couple of hours later when we were both exhausted and had headaches from all the fumes from paint thinner and nail polish remover, I looked at my angelic baby girl fast asleep in her bed and thought, "It's a good thing you're cute, kid, or you wouldn't have lasted this long." I'm getting smart in my old age and have been remembering to take pictures to document these incidents so I have proof that they really happened. I'm afraid that someday I'll look back and think there's no way any one kid was that much of a walking disaster. Time may dull memories, but pictures tell the true story. And on a side note, not every mess is a disaster. I still think it's cute when Maycie unloads every shoe in my closet then walks around the house in my heels (smart girl- they're her favorites). I just make my older kids clean up those kinds of messes while I sit back and smile. I tell them to chalk it up to good practice for someday when they have their own kids they have to constantly clean up after. Anyways, I have to take a break so I can go pick up the markers which my child just found and scrub the rainbow scribble off the kitchen floor. Thank goodness that this time these ones are washable. Next I have to put the toyboxes back together and clean up a pile of ripped-up magazines. Hopefully then I can get Maycie down for a blessed nap. Maybe I'll take a nap, too- honestly it'd be deserved, and I need to recharge my depleted batteries because who knows what kinds of shenanigans she'll get into when she wakes up?

What do you mean these aren't candy?



Yes, that is a Maxi Pad stuck to her leg.


Do you suppose the deodorant will make her poop smell better?




Hah! Another successful escape. What else you got?



What do you think- does this shade of blue go with my tub?


Hmm- which shoe? Does the black one make my thighs look big?


Doesn't that face just have mischief written all over it?



All right, I'm feeling guilty so here's a few pics of my kids from Fall/Halloween. It came, the kids had a blast at Cornbelly's, going goofy on Crazy Hair Day, dressing up for school and trick or treating, and it went. There- now no one can say I didn't do my blogging duty.

The Hunt

The title of this post sounds really exciting, doesn't it? My Husband would say the subject matter is in fact very exciting, but I'm not sure I really agree. This inhumane act of death is only being posted per request of my husband (and when I say request, I actually mean if I don't post it, he won't let me visit the mall any time soon). If it were up to me, the word "HUNT" would be added to the four letter word list and people's mouths' would get washed out with soap just for thinking it let alone actually doing it. I've never been a huge fan of hunting, probably because some great uncle of mine hung a decrepit old deer head up in our little family cabin. Every year we'd go, and my stinkin' brother would try to make me touch it's eyes or tell me it was going to come alive in the night and get me. So I guess it would be ironic that I'd marry a hunter. A month or so before we got married when my mind was not functioning properly due to the "potential wedded bliss erases all reason syndrome", my husband talked me into going dove hunting with him (this should have been a big sign, considering doves are the actual love birds of lore). He showed me how to shoot the shotgun, and I turned out to be a half-decent shot. I knocked one out of a tree, but when we found it at the base, it wasn't quite dead yet. My husband said I had to finish it off, but it looked at me with these sad, quivering, accusing eyes, and I just couldn't do it. I cried and went back to the car while Zane "put it out of it's suffering"- the suffering I had caused. So back to the point at hand. I never put up a fuss when Zane wants to go bird hunting, or worse, deer or elk hunting. I just pray that he doesn't hit anything so his soul will be saved from killing innocent animals and hope that the Man upstairs likes me better that day then Zane and his "please let me get that big one over there." So far my strategy has worked, but I forgot to factor in the fact that I now have two little boys that my husband is dying to turn into little hunters. Now I pitch a royal fit any time Zane talks about letting the boys touch a gun- if Dick Chaney can manage to shoot someone in the butt, imagine what damage little kids could do. So he just tells me he'll only let them walk along with him and watch. Yeah, right. Here's a picture of my son, Wyatt, with a huge pheasant that he shot himself last weekend. Zane was so proud he was practically dancing around the yard. When I got mad, he told me Wyatt shot it with a BB gun. Now I'm not stupid, a BB would have to hit a pheasant right between the eyes to kill it- he totally used Zane's shotgun. While I'm extremely proud that my son is such a great shot, I'm a little disappointed that he didn't seem to feel any sadness about killing that poor, defenseless bird. Probably because Zane was so darn excited for him. Don't worry, I've been trying to help the guilt along these past few days, so we'll see what happens. But little boys idolize their dads, so I'm not holding out much hope. Now I'm not trying to convince people that all hunting is bad. If we were ever starving, I'd have no problem shooting stuff to eat. But people who say they hunt because they like deer meat are totally lying, as well as people who say pheasants taste like chicken- they so DO NOT. Anyways, I'll stop my ranting now. If I've helped anyone out there to come into the light, I'll consider this post a success. And where these ARE pretty neat pics, I have to say to Wyatt- good job, son.