Is it enough?

I've been reading this phrase a lot as I finish "The Hours", and I've been applying that question to my own life and the way I live every day.

Lately I've been doing some serious soul-searching regarding my life, my purpose, my reason for being here. I adore my family. I love my kids and my husband, but I can't help but feel deep deep down in my toes that they are not all there is for me and my life. Doesn't that sound horrible? I feel so much guilt admitting this, because as much as I bitch and complain about the little details, I really do love my family.

But still, even as I declare this love, I can't help but admit that something inside me feels empty, and I don't know how to fill it.

I've spent the past 4 years playing around with my various mediocre talents, trying to figure out my passion so that I can be not only enjoying myself, but also bringing profit into the house. I have failed at every endeavor, including chunkyrhino, and I can't help but think it's because I'm trying to serve 2 masters, and it's the financial master that's winning and in doing so, ruining my soul.

Shawn works his fingers to the bone almost every single day of the week, only to be paid less than he was a year before, only to come home to the realization that yes, we are going to have to struggle again this month, only to feel like less of a man for not being able to provide what his family wants. Isn't that a sad statement? That a virile, healthy, strong young man would feel like a failure because he doesn't make enough money to send his kids to camp or take a yearly vacation (and not just a drive to the coast). These things are mundane and insignificant, and here he is guilt-ridden and anger filled because he cannot attain them. And yet, there are people across the world who would feel immeasurable joy at being able to live the life we live.

I know I am at fault. I know that I am not, or have not been, strong enough to resist the temptations of material goods, of creature comforts...of cable. If we're being honest here, and I think we are, 70% of the arguments I have with the kids involve them not leaving me alone long enough to watch Oprah or... South Park. Seriously, though, how silly is this? How sad and pathetic and weak is it that I would put television before the beautiful gifts God has bestowed on me.

I want to rid myself of all of these temptations. I want to not want to watch a movie rather than take a walk with Jaxson, or play dress up with Ryan. I do work at it, I really do, and I detest as much as the next guy people who whine and complain and never take any action. I don't want to be one of those people, and have always prided myself on working towards that goal, but as I reach this point in my life, I'm stripped of my rationalizations and forced to face the ugly, ugly truth: I was not put on this Earth to watch tv, to rack up credit card bills on extraneous clothing, to be famous, to make loads of money.

Then what? Just a mom? Just a wife? Nothing else? Just wait 18 years until the kids are out of the house to start really living the life I feel destined for? What about Shawn? Where does he fit into the equation? And couldn't we all benefit from a change? If we were able to work towards a higher purpose together, side by side, day by day, as a true unit?

Since I was a little girl, before I knew how to put it into words, I wanted to help the less fortunate. The Peace Corps, missionary work, all of this seemed so romantic and idyllic to me. As I grew up, I continued to spend spare time volunteering here and there, but never took the plunge into something bare and scary. And I've got a degree as a teacher, which I thought would satisfy my urge to help others, but which really just led to more bitching and whining.

I stayed home with my children, only to find myself complaining left and right about, well, everything. Everything I have to do, everything I don't have, everything other people get to do that I'm missing out on. I try to attribute my day-to-day activities to the higher goal of taking care of the 3 people I love, but still I feel empty and shallow, spoiled and rotten. Is it really necessary that I make those Chunky Apple muffins that Shawn love so much? Or that Ryan's room is pretty as a picture? How important is it really that I make new pillow covers for our couch? I mean, really?

The temptations and covetous feelings are everywhere, to the point that I really don't feel I will be whole until I do without. Without the air conditioning, without the tv, the clothes, the house. Without the knowledge of what others have, without the desire to take time away from my loved ones in order to chase the almighty dollar. I have all these things and still am not fulfilled, so what next?

Am I impetuous? Yes. Am I dramatic? Please. Do I go to extremes? You bet. Is this just one of those instances where I've forgotten to take a few days' worth of Prozac, have slipped into a mild depression and started taking inventory of my life through an unstable mind? Maybe.

But what if this is none of those things? What if this is real and tactile and waiting? What then? How do I reconcile 30 years of hedonism, a husband and 2 kids with the desire to sell everything and move to Guatemala? Why would God deliver these people to me if this is my calling, but not theirs? Why is it always all or nothing with me? Why can't I merge both worlds?

What is wrong with me? And how can I fix it? I want more for my kids. I want more for them than a new computer or a great college university or a career in the NFL or on Broadway, but what if those are their dreams? When do I let go of mine in order to help them achieve theirs? Would I be serving them better if we did let go of our possessions and lived in foreign country where they could actually experience life, learn things never taught in books, and recognize the true worth of silly little things like bread and water and a clean place to sleep.

Am I looking for the easy way rather than the difficult path that forces me to meander through the nonsense to get to the essential? I feel like the answer is yes, but then I also feel like I tend to be a tad hard on myself during these moments of insight and deliberation. Or maybe I'm not being hard on myself so much as being honest and realistic.

I guess what i want is for someone to tell me what to do. I am weak. I need guidance and direction. I need a sign. I need to know whether or not living in a nice house, comfortable and safe, spending spare time collecting clothes for the underprivileged, or working the Mobile Loaves and Fishes truck, sending money to children thousands of miles away so they don't have to hide at night from armies who would rather see them as soldiers than see them in school is enough. I do those things now, and I'm proud of the work I try to do (another on my long list of sins), but I need to know if it is enough. If I'm willing to go places others won't in order to help those truly in desperate need, why shouldn't I?

Just a snippet

Here's a tidbit I've pulled from the agglomeration of stories we've gathered this week:

Any given morning, this is how Jaxson and I start the day --

"Jax, you want milk or orange juice with breakfast?"

"Milk! Milk, Mommy, milk."

"Okay." (reaching for the milk)

"Orange Juice! Orange Juice Mommy!"

"You want orange juice?"

"Yes."

"Okay."

"No orange juice, Mommy, milk!"

"Which is it Jax, orange juice or milk?"

"Yes."

Can't talk now. Busy being a Failure.

Seriously, I'm slaving away here at being the worst mom ever, so much so that I don't even have time to list all the ways I've completely sucked at Mom-dom this week. Who knows, maybe Diarrhea Dude will take a break between squirts to sleep and I can write more then. Or not.

Little Woman

Sorry about the absence. Last week took the wind out of my sails and I needed some time to decompress. And disconnect. Seriously-- no computer, no tv. I think I've spent so much time worshipping at the alter of that false idol, I thought it would be harder than it was. But whaddya know -- I ended up waking up to my life, doing a lot of soul searching, and recommitting myself to the important things in life.

Don't get me wrong -- I have dvr, I'm not really missing anything. (Now if I could only figure out a way to get to watch those recorded shows before 10 pm each night...)


It sounds like I've had some sort of lobotomy, I know, so lest you start calling wondering whether or not Zombies really are back and have taken over my body, let me show you what's keeping me uplifted and excited about the everyday details that would normally bore &/or disgust me:



( I got mine for $20!!) EVERYTHING YOU EVER WANTED OR NEEDED TO KNOW ABOUT HOUSEKEEPING IS IN THIS BOOK. If you haven't read it, you need to. Shawn even reads it, though mostly just where it talks about tools and the garage. But still.


Not to mention, almost every cleaning product they suggest you use is a cheap, inexpensive household item, and most of the techniques they use are good for the environment.

I swear, it makes me want to go out and be a Home Ec teacher. Me.


Plus, I get to wear these while I clean:


Ninny bought matching "Domestic Diva's" aprons for me and Ry, and I just scored this one on eBay:









Apparently, I'm the last homemaker in America to discover Jessie Steele. I hear her aprons have been featured on Oprah's Favorite Things (and Desperate Housewives), which explains why I'm out of the loop, seeing as how I am fundamentally against watching her Favorite Things shows. It causes too much envy. I'm jealous enough as it is. The added pressure would be too much.


Anyway, I love love love wearing these, but I know a lot of you aren't as sickeningly 1953 as ! am, so perhaps you'd enjoy something a bit more contemporary, more sarcastic, eh? May we suggest:


Not as sexy, but just as much sass!!

Speaking of ubiquitous emails...

You Know You Grew Up In the 80's if:
1. You've ever ended a sentence with the word SIKE.
2. You can sing the rap to the Fresh Prince of Bel-Air and can do the Carlton. ("...chillin' out maxin', relaxin all cool and all shootin some b-ball outside of the school...")
3. You know that 'WOAH' comes from Joey on Blossom
4. If you ever watched 'Fraggle Rock'
5. It was actually worth getting up early on a Saturday to watch cartoons.
6. You wore a ponytail on the side of your head.
7. You got super-excited when it was Oregon Trail day in computer class at school.
8. You made your mom buy one of those clips that would hold your shirt in a knot on the side.
9. You played the game 'MASH'(Mansion, Apartment, Shelter, House)
10. You wore stonewashed Jordache jean jackets and were proud of it.
11. You know the profound meaning of ' WAX ON , WAX OFF' (I still do this when I'm cleaning. Miagi would be so proud.)
12. You wanted to be a Goonie. (I still do, and now so does Ryan.)
13. You ever wore fluorescent clothing. (some of us...head-to-toe)
14. You can remember what Michael Jackson looked like before his nose fell off and his cheeks shifted.
15. You have ever pondered why Smurfette was the only female smurf. (and why she had a closet full of the same dress.)
16. You took lunch boxes to school...and traded Garbage Pailkids in the schoolyard.
17. You remember the CRAZE, then the BANNING of slap bracelets. ( I think I might still have some scars)
18. You still get the urge to say 'NOT' after every sentence. Not.
19. You thought your childhood friends would never leave because you exchanged handmade friendship bracelets.
20. You ever owned a pair of Jelly-Shoes.
21. After you saw Pee-Wee's Big Adventure you kept saying 'I know you are, but what am I?'
22. You remember 'I've fallen and I can't get up'
24. You remember going to the skating rink before there were inline skates.
25. You have ever played with a Skip-It (I think I might still have the ankle bruises to prove it.)
26. You remember boom boxes and walking around with one on your shoulder like you were all that.
27. You remember watching both Gremlins movies.
28. You thought Doogie Howser/Samantha Micelli were hot. (umhmm, KIRK CAMERON)
29. You remember Alf, the wise-crackin' lil furry brown alien from Melmac.
30. You remember New Kids on the Block when they were cool...and don't even flinch when people refer to them as 'NKOTB'.
31. You knew all the characters names and their life stories on 'Saved By The Bell,' The ORIGINAL class.
32. You know all the words to Bon Jovi - SHOT THROUGH THE HEART.
33. You just sang those words to yourself.
34. You still sing 'We are the World'
35. You tight rolled your jeans.
36. You owned a bannana clip. (and wore it to prom...)
37. You remember 'Where's the Beef?'
38. You used to (and probably still do) say 'What you talkin' 'bout Willis?'
39. You're still singing 'Shot Through the Heart' in your head, aren't you?

How did this kid get so cool?

Ryan's class has been studying the skeletal system this week.

Today in the car, she asks me if I know what the strongest bone in the body is.

"No," I say. "What bone is the strongest?"

"The upper leg bone."

"Really?"

"Yep."

"Do you know what the strongest point on your body is?"

"Umm, your skull?"

(Which way to go with this????) "No, not your skull, but close. Your elbow is the strongest point on your body," I say, reciting word-for-word that ubiquitous email I keep getting, "so if anyone ever tries to hurt you or take you, you just ram it into them as hard as you can. But only as self-defense -- not on your brother or if you get mad at one of your friends, okay?"



"Yeah, I don't ever wanna hit another kid, 'cause my friend Randy in my class, you know, my friend from Camp Doublecreek, well he's my friend and he's like the biggest kid in Kindergarten, so I'd just go get him if someone was being mean to me, and he'd use his big ole elbow on them. It's a good thing his cast is off now, or that elbow would be wasted."



It's just so funny watching her personality peek out as she's growing more independent of us. I bought her some clear glasses for her "Elphaba at the Ozdust Ballroom" costume, and she's been wearing them ever since, on the condition that she won't try to tell people that they're real. That's been fun. I actually use them as a motivator to do homework, telling her she can put on her dress-up cape and pretend she's Hermione studying at Hogwarts.



This morning when I dropped her off at school, I started to let her out farther down the drive than where the safety patrol kids are stationed, and she immediately shouted, "No! I want to get out up there, where they open your door. It's like I'm in a limo."



Reality is going to hit so hard one day.

Get Your Gal On

About a year ago or so, Mindy over at The Mommy Blog introduced me to Design-Her Gals, and since then it's become one of Ryan's favorite things to do; picking out your gal, dressing her up, dressing her down...she loves it.

A while back I remember Mindy posting about the Gal-to-Gal walk, I even remember mentioning it to a fellow parishioner who is currently fighting Breast Cancer, but I don't remember if I ever mentioned it to you guys, so here it is: go to www.galtogalwalk.org, create your Gal, donate your $3, and let's get walking, people!!

Ryan and I are gonna get our Gals going tonight, which sends shivers anticipation up and down my spine -- last time we "designed", Ryan created herself as a beautiful little black bridesmaid with a poodle. I can't wait to see what she does this time, though judging from her current Hannah Montana obsession, something tells me we'll be seeing boots and a pageboy cap somewhere in the mix.

**OOH, I almost forgot -- it's not just for girls!! They've added men and boys, too!

hmmrgghhphhffssstt

Apologizing for the lull. Jax has been sick and sleepless this past week, and thus my brain has taken a leave of absence. Talk amongst yourselves.

You're the Inspiration

You know who you are...

Good Morning, Sunshine!

I don't know about you all, but for me, nothing says "Good Morning World!" like climbing out of bed and stepping right in the middle of a big ole pile of dog shit.

I encourage all of you to look for the piles of dog shit in your life and start steppin' away.

Now if you'll excuse me, a certain weiner dog and I have some business to discuss.

My Guys

Twas not a good night in the house of York.

Jax woke up about 1:30 with a 102 degree fever, burning up like he hasn't in such a long time. I should have known it was coming. It's been too long since someone was really sick, we were due.

Shawn was still closing the restaurant, not that it would have mattered, so I gave him so medicine, put a cold rag on his head, and took up my place alongside him in bed.

About 15 minutes later, Shawn gets home, finds me with Jax, and I give him the bad news.

"Did you give him some medicine?"

I love questions like these, don't you, ladies? I know he's trying to be thoughtful, and his motives are merely concern for his son, but are you serious?? Ugghhh.

Anyway, I assure him that the retard he's left in charge of his kids all these years has taken care of everything, and he should just go to bed. So he does.

Then around 4:30 am, I wake up as Jax is thrashing around at the opposite end of the bed, feel his much much cooler forehead, re-tuck him in and creep my way back to my bed.

Not 10 minutes later, Ryan comes stomping in, heavy with sleep, complaining that she can't turn her music on and could I please come and fix it for her.

Sure, who wants sleep anyway? So overrated.

But I do sleep until 6:30 when Jax is up again, and both kids are begging for cereal.

3 hours later, and I'm running the bath water for Ryan, telling Jax not to get in the bathtub, and walk to our room to get Shawn up for church. 2 seconds later, Ryan cries out, "Mom! Jax is in the tub! In his pajamas! And his DIAPER!!"

Holy Jesus, that child is lucky he is sick and it is Sunday.

Anyway, Shawn comes down about 10 am, dressed and ready, waiting for me to finish cooking his bacon and eggs.

He grabs me in a big bear hug, kisses me and says, "How are ya, babe?"

"I'm PMS'ing," I reply.

"Awww, shit," he says, pulling away.

"Thanks for the support, baby."

"Anytime."

I guess we can give her a pass on that one...

Ryan came up to my room just now, asking for help into a dress she wanted to wear. Having just finished watching "Freaky Friday", I asked her how it was.


"Good," she said. "I closed my eyes evertime they kissed."

"Well that's a relief," I replied.

2 beats later, she pipes up, "Weeellll, there was one time when I had to open my eyes because I fell off the couch and wanted to get back up, but luckily I didn't see the kissing."

Luckily.

Lunchtime Follies

Jax and I took lunch up to Ryan this morning, and it was just as exciting as always. Being the silly mommy I am, I like to twist words around and say funny things, insuring that I am not only loved but clamored everytime we go up there. (Is the big L on my forehead blazing, or what?)

Anyway, today one of the little boys was talking about Transformers this and Transformers that, so I asked him, "You must really Love Transformers. Are you gonne MARRY them?" (snicker, snicker)

He just looked at me crazily and said, "Nooo, but I am gonna marry my Transformer toys."

umm, okay.

Later, when one of Ryan's friends asked me my name (again) I said, "Queen Rammalammadingdong," at which point she made a funny face at me and sort of backed away.

I turned to Ryan and said, "I think your friend thinks I'm weird, Ry."

All of a sudden the Transformer boy pipes up, "Well I think you're pretty. Except for your eyes, I mean."

ummm, okay.

And finally, it took us 15 minutes to walk from the school to the parking lot, because as Jax has just acquired his first "Thomas" train, he insists on rolling it everywhere we go. On his knees. Through the halls, onto the patio, across the nasty black-topped parking lot...

Roberts Family Fun Time

So Lea Ann was in town this weekend, meaning we all spent 4 glorious days gorging ourselves on junk food, laying around watching tv, playing Phase 10 and napping.

Many fights were had, many names were called, but such is the case with my sisters and I.

The good news? Menana finally got her family portrait:

Here are a few of my faves:

The kiddos... The folks...

Big Daddy & his girls... Lea & Ry...

How hot is my mom??? 3 perfect bitches...

Brother Man... ...with his Daddy...

Me & my gorgeous girl... Walking away...

AND, Coming Soon to a Christmas Card near You:

I'm Invisible

My very dear friend and one of my many Mommy Mentors sent this to me, and I just couldn't keep it to myself. Thanks Elisa!!

I'm invisible..... It all began to make sense, the blank stares, the lack of response, the way one of the kids will walk into the room while I'm on the phone and ask to be taken to the store. Inside I'm thinking, "Can't you see I'm on the phone?" Obviously not.

No one can see if I'm on the phone, or cooking, or sweeping the floor, or even standing on my head in the corner, because no one can see me at all. I'm invisible.

Some days I am only a pair of hands, nothing more: Can you fix this? Can you tie this? Can you open this?

Some days I'm not a pair of hands; I'm not even a human being. I'm a clock to ask, "What time is it?" I'm a satellite guide to answer, "What number is the Disney Channel?" I'm a car to order, "Pick me up right around 5:30, please."

I was certain that these were the hands that once held books and the eyes that studied history and the mind that graduated summa cum laude -- but now they had disappeared into the peanut butter, never to be seen again.

She's going .. she's going ... she's gone!

One night, a group of us were having dinner, celebrating the return of a friend from England. Janice had just gotten back from a fabulous trip, and she was going on and on about the hotel she stayed in. I was sitting there, looking around at the others all put together so well. It was hard not to compare and feel sorry for myself as I looked down at my out-of-style dress; it was the only thing I could find that was clean. My unwashed hair was pulled up in a banana clip and I was afraid I could actually smell peanut butter in it.

I was feeling pretty pathetic, when Janice turned to me with a beautifully wrapped package, and said, "I brought you this." It was a book on the great cathedrals of Europe. I wasn't exactly sure why she'd given it to me until I read her inscription: "To Charlotte, with admiration for the greatness of what you are building when no one sees."

In the days ahead I would read -- no, devour -- the book. And I would discover what would become for me, four life-changing truths, after which I could pattern my work: No one can say who built the great cathedrals -- we have no record of their names. These builders gave their whole lives for a work they would never see finished. They made great sacrifices and expected no credit. The passion of their building was fueled by their faith that the eyes of God saw everything.

A legendary story in the book told of a rich man who came to visit the cathedral while it was being built, and he saw a workman carving a tiny bird on the inside of a beam. He was puzzled and asked the man, "Why are you spending so much time carving that bird into a beam that will be covered by the roof? No one will ever see it." And the workman replied, "Because God sees."

I closed the book, feeling the missing piece fall into place. It was almost as if I heard God whispering to me, "I see you, Charlotte. I see the sacrifices you make every day, even when no one around you does. No act of kindness you've done, no sequin you've sewn on, no cupcake you've baked, is too small for me to notice and smile over. You are building a great cathedral, but you can't see right now what it will become."

At times, my invisibility feels like an affliction. But it is not a disease that is erasing my life. It is the cure for the disease of my own self-centeredness. It is the antidote to my strong, stubborn pride. I keep the right perspective when I see myself as a great builder; As one of the people who show up at a job that they will never see finished, to work on something that their name will never be on. The writer of the book went so far as to say that no cathedrals could ever be built in our lifetime because there are so few people willing to sacrifice to that degree.

When I really think about it, I don't want my son to tell the friend he's bringing home from college for Thanksgiving, "My mom gets up at 4 in the morning and bakes homemade pies, and then she hand-bastes a turkey for three hours and presses all the linens for the table." That would mean I'd built a shrine or a monument to myself. I just want him to want to come home. And then, if there is anything more to say to his friend, to add, "You're gonna love it there."

As mothers, we are building great cathedrals. We cannot be seen if we're doing it right. And one day, it is very possible that the world will marvel, not only at what we have built, but at the beauty that has been added to the world by the sacrifices of invisible women.

Foto Friday

I was just outside doing laundry when I happened to glance up and actually pay attention to what I'd just hung:

Not a shirt I would wear to a PTA mtg, but great to sleep and clean in! My Dad bought it for me, (thank you, thank you very much), and it probably wouldn't be that big a deal if the guy living behind us wasn't a minister. Oops.


It gets better. I look over and I see this:
Shawn's old baseball shirt from Lutheran High North, which is super comfy and which I LOVE to wear, as a normal wife probably would. The conundrum we find ourselves in, however, is that we live in Round Rock, and their rivals are the Leander Lions, whose colors also happen to be, say it with me: red and blue.


It took me a while to realize it when we first moved here, but after I'd gotten several crazy looks at the Y years ago, I put two and two together, so now I really only ever wear it indoors or at the Cedar Park (Leander) YMCA. Hee hee. (Go Dragons!)


The point is, I'm not sure which one I feel worse about the neighbors seeing hanging in our yard. These people know where we live, after all...


Speaking of dragons, would you please tell me if it is normal for children to lay on the couch like this to watch tv, or is it just mine? I have no idea how that even comes remotely close to being comfortable.

... & A Shitty Night's Morning

Jaxson better start sleeping through the night soon, and Ry needs to cough up whatever's still hanging out in her chest from the cold she had last week, because if we don't get sleep asap, there WILL be blood shed.

Last night was torture, up and down all night long, and this morning we paid dearly.

Yelling, hitting, pushing, whining...and that was just me.

The highlight had to be, after yelling at Shawn, turning around and telling Ryan, who has Family Career Day at school, "When you talk about Daddy and his job, make sure you tell them how mean he is to Mommy."

To which Shawn rolls his eyes, calls me a name, and asks Ryan, "Do you believe that, Ry? Do you really think I'm mean to Mommy?"

"Yes."

Score 1 for Mom. Victory was bittersweet, though, seeing as how Shawn slammed the door so hard when he left that stuff fell off the walls.

Score 1 for Dad.

A Hard Day's Night

This evening the kids and I were eagerly awaiting Shawn's arrival -- it had been one of those days for him where he doesn't get a second to answer the phone, much less reply to emails or texts, so I knew he was needing a cold beer, a good meal and some excited greetings from the kids.

The greetings were covered, seeing as how the little monsters habitually sit at the window (a la "Cat in the Hat"), waiting to see his truck pull up, subsequently releasing ear-piercing screams and shrieks when at last that large red beacon lumbers its way into the drive.

The cold beer and hot meal proved to be a tad more difficult to accomplish.

In one of her "moods", Ryan decides to start playing jokes, pretending Shawn has pulled up, going so far as to unlock, open the door and scream, "Hi Daddy!" She is eagerly aided by Jax, who just lives to copy everything his big sister does (Note the fingernail polish on his big toe. And his ear.)

Hearing the tell-tale signs, I abandon my chicken-quesadilla-cooking post at the stove and quickly jump over to the freezer, pull out a mug, and empty a fresh beer into it, as I rush to the door to greet my man. I know, it sounds completely lame. I am completely lame, remember??

Anyway, lo and behold, I leave the kitchen to the sight of an empty entry way and the resounding echo of giggles.

"Ryan! I just poured a cold beer for Daddy -- now what am I gonna do with it?"

(She just continues to laugh)

"Don't do it again" I say, returning to the stove.

But of course, she does it a 2nd time, I fall for it (shut up), get irritated and say, "Ryan! Please stop! I want to make things nice for Daddy. He's had a long hard day."

"Well what about ME? I've had a hard day, too, you know, and you're not being very nice to me right now!"

(Stifling the obvious snort) "I'm sorry, Ry. I didn't know you'd had a hard day. What happened?"

Releasing one of her classic exasperated sighs, she replied, "You know, all the walking back and forth and back and forth."

"Where are you walking to?"

"The bathroom. And then we have to sit down and then stand up and sit down."

(long pause as she throws herself on the floor) "You don't even know how hard it is on the carpet at school. Gaawww."

Needless to say, Shawn got home later than planned, I drank the beer, and his food is sitting in the micro waiting to be re-heated.

And so it goes.

September Sweeps

Right, so we're chugging along at chunkyrhino.com, getting ready to move our products/services/blog to one site, but we've got to clean house first, which means we'll slowly be phasing out our cafepress products, in order to streamline our inventory.


What does that have to do with you, you ask? Weeellll, it means you get to save, save, save on some of the cutest designs for kids, 'rents, and more. Head over to the site now to get yours before they're gone -- sale ends September 30th!!


**We don't currently sell our cards at the cafepress site, but if you'd like to order, just shoot me an email and we'll get to work!!

Halloween Already???

You cannot measure the love we have for my Dad. You just can't.

Susie Homemaker

Ladies and gentlemen, I believe we may have a Future Homemakers of America member in our midst:






Note the food in one hand, the duster in the other, and clearly he's been sidetracked from his cleaning schedule by his "stories".

My Own Personal Rainman

Oh Lord, what am I gonna do with this child?



Jax is into some phase right now (actually, it's been going on for a while now) where he incessantly repeats himself, regardless of how many times he's been responded to, or how many times he's been asked to stop.



It's at the point now where Ryan will interrupt when he's doing it to me in the car with a loud, exasperated, "SHE KNOWS, OK?? WE GET IT!" As irritating as it is, this does always make me laugh, like when Jax accidentally locks himself in his room and I pretend not to hear him banging.

Playing Catch-Up

Whew! Week 1 down, and by the grace of God, Ryan came out smiling.

I say "by the grace of God", because here's how her week looked on paper:

Monday: 1st day of school, got in trouble for talking.
Tuesday: Had an accident in the bathroom and had to change clothes.
Wednesday: Some little girls made fun of her name ("Ryan? That's a boy's name!") when she tried to make friends with them.
Thursday: Mommy forgot to pack a snack, so she had nothing to eat at snack time.
Friday:Got in trouble for talking again, had her behavior chart moved to "YELLOW".

Now. Had this been my first week of school, I would have curled into a ball and declared the year over quicker than it began. But not Ry. The accident in the bathroom? No big deal. "All the kids were nappping, Mom, so I just had my friend tell my teacher and she brought me my clothes. No big deal." The teasing? " I just walked away and played with Chloe." No snack? Well, she was pretty pissed about that, and I can't say I blame her -- they eat lunch at 10:40, and don't get out of school until 2:30.

Of course, this morning she soo di dnot want to go to school, mostly because I woke up with her in my bed at 7:15, when we needed to leave the house at 7:30. So things were a little rushed, but Mama's on an organization craze, so it all went smoothly and after I promised her I'd have lunch with her today, she cheered right up.

Speaking of which, I've got to finish baking cookies for the office ladies before it's time to leave.

(#1 Rule I learned as a teacher: KISS the Office Ladies' Butts. They RUN the school.)

I'm off to pucker up!!

Who Misses High School??

Never fear, just become a Mommy, wait 5 years, and when your child starts kindergarten it'll be like you are right back in HS, walking the halls awkwardly, trying to figure out where to go, trying to get someone to talk to you, trying to figure out the mass attack of information coming at you from left and right all the while attempting to keep your palms from sweating right off. What? Just me? Seriously, this should be a contact sport.

Don't get me wrong, everything has been bustling and busy and people have been welcoming, it's just that I am incredibly afraid of everyone, or to be more precise, I'm afraid of acting weird or saying something stupid in front of everyone. Apparently, being holed up for the majority of the past 4 years in my house with kids has left me a bit of an agoraphobe, not wanting to leave the house unless necessary because now everywhere I go, I recognize people I've seen at her school.

This is not good, seeing as how most of the time I'm sans makeup, a scary sight at any rate, but when you're trying to carve a nice little niche out for yourself and your kids at the elementary school, it's probably best not to scare the rest of the moms away with a glance. Not to mention, my small-talk skills are not the greatest, especially when they sneak up on you in the grocery store as you're fighting your toddler, desperately trying to grasp hold of the last shred of dignity you've got left.

Not to mention the FOLDERS. Good Lord! Yellow folder for info, Blue for homework, Green for Poetry, Red for behavior....all come home on different days, all go back on different days, all in an effort to push me one step closer to insanity. Poor Ryan. She'll be lucky if we make it to Christmas! She was a pro yesterday, insisting I drop her off in the front of the school and let her walk in alone. I wish I could bottle the joy and excitement emanating from every pore in her body as she walked along the sidewalk through the front doors. She's having a great time, has already found a "Bestest Friend", and has already gotten in trouble for talking too much. So at least she's right on track...

Jax and I have been having fun as well, thank you very much. Except for the 2nd attempt to keep him with me while watching Ry's gymnastics, he's been a lot better. He just can't sit still, especially when there's so much going on around him. Yesterday at gymnastics, he dumped over my coke, and threw another of his trademark fits as I cleaned it up and tried to gather him, our 5 bags, and extraneous toys in an effort to make a quiet, unnoticed exit. But then I tripped on the 18 month year old that another mom had sitting in the middle of the floor, and that plan was shot to hell. Apologizing as much as I could, I still could not escape the evil, irritated glares of the mommies around us. Perhaps from now on we'll just drop Ry off, hmm?

My favorite thing with Jax right now is the fact that every time we go in the backyard, he puts on his Cowboys helmet, a habit he originally started every time he went outside to play T-ball, but which has now expanded to anytime he's in the backyard. You haven't laughed until you've seen him toddling around in that huge helmet, teetering back and forth as he climbs over things, digs in the rocks, and goes down the slide head first. It's good for what ails me.

Or Not...

Forget I said anything about a dog. What dog? Bad Amy. Bad. Bad.

There goes my heart...

No tears were shed (yet), but my heart did break just a bit. I didn't have time to be sentimental, seeing as how they whisked her off before I could even snap a pic, but I guess they know what they are doing.

Here's Ryan 2 minutes before the above photo -- while we were waiting in line to drop her off:

I can't count the number of times I gave my mom this look (and still do).

And of course, Jax had to get in the game:

Now if you'll excuse me, I would go curl into a ball on my bed, but seeing as how I just agreed to take in another dog, I'd better get the house ready. And figure out how to tell Shawn.

The Art of War

I truly believe that every mom goes through difficult spurts with each of their kids. I believe that it is not just me, that I am not simply a bad mom.



As much as you read about the chaos that goes on here on the blog, there's ten times a much good, boring, run of the mill stuff that happens, too. So, no, I do not think I'm a bad mother.



But I have reached another cross roads with Jax and have come to the conclusion that I have got to step up the discipline now or he's a goner.



The tantrums have become, in a word: unbearable. My sweet, funny, larger-than-life little boy truly seems to have some kind of monster residing inside his chunky little body, and it's time to exorcise it.



Something has to work, because Amy the Emotionally Fragile cannot take much more --
especially in public.

I'm going to spare you the nasty details, but let's just say that there were 2 incidents, and one of them ended with me half topless, groping around the produce section of the grocery store looking for my glasses.

Let the stare-down begin.

Perhaps I spoke too soon...

Aye. I've been just as anxiously awaiting the first of the school year as much if not more than Ryan. I'm sure a lot of moms get excited, but I doubt any of them do it with quite as much essence of nerd. (See?)


I've got schedules and charts and calenders, OH MY, and still, still I manage to screw up 2 monumental landmarks in my child's lives.



First, Jax has begun going poo on the potty. As happy as I am about this milestone, it's one I've been not-so-secretly dreading for a while now. I've mentioned the carpet, yes?

So there we were, straining and squeezing in order to get some little toothpaste squirt out of his butt (that just got way nastier than I'd intended. Sorry.), and then "Woohoo", applause, applause, applause, he crawls down to look into the potty and finishes his crap on my bathroom floor.


Why was I not prepared for this? IT WASN'T ON THE SCHEDULE. Sheesh.


I have it clearly marked that he starts potty training once Ryan starts Kindergarten. Not 6 days sooner.


And then.

Then.

Do you remember that weird sister that Shelly Long had in "Hello Again", that kind of lady like the record store owner Annie Potts played in Pretty in Pink? Weren't they great and weird and funky and endearing? Yeah, to the moms at Ry's new gymnastics, I'm that lady. But not nearly as endearing and nowhere in the vacinity of great..


We started at a new, slightly more prestigious gymnastics academy than the YMCA today (Can you hear me gagging? Can ya?), and Ryan totally rocked the crowd. Not that I'm proud or anything, but she totally charmed those teachers into thinking it was cute that she hadn't listened and needed them to repeat themselves over and over. (We'll have to work on that.) Still, she did great, especially on the bars. I don't know what it is about her -- some physical anomaly from Shawn's side of the family I'm sure that gives her crazy strength in her upper body, but the kid has it. Seriously, it's sick.

I'd been anxious about making a good impression at this place, knowing that Ry may want to continue there for a while and all. Naturally, I failed miserably.

Ryan and I were both virgins at this gym place, in fact I hadn't even gone there to register, so it was pretty much blind leading the blind kind of thing. When we finally get the teenager at the front counter to notice us, we fill in the rest of the paperwork and she tells us to go with Coach A, and that someone would call our name.

Great! Just point us where you want us. We herd ourselves into the tiny watching/waiting area, hearing teachers calling names while we try to figure out where sit. When I finally manage to get her shoes off, a line of little girls starts walking onto the mats. "I think that's your class," I say to her. "Go on out and ask the teacher if she called your name."

"Okay." She timidly goes off to talk to the teacher while I try to wrangle Jax when another gym lady stops her and asks her who she is and where's she supposed to be. Ryan turns and looks at me with such fear and utter shyness that I quickly jump to her aid, calling out to the instructor that she was supposed to go with Coach A, and that she was thinking maybe that was her on the floor. She was going to ask her if she'd called her name, I informed her.

"We haven't called names, yet," she said flatly, bending down to Ry and asking her name. She checks her list and - lo and behold - she is supposed to be out there on that mat with those kids, Smirking, I turn around to grab Jaxson, when I suddenly hear, "Whose little boy is that?" I look onto the gym floor and there's Jax up on the low beam, shit-grinnin' and jumping away.

I, naturally, start to laugh, but when I notice the looks on the other mom's faces, I decide that may not be the wisest option, and I run out to retrieve him. Not such a big deal. Until he starts fighting me, screaming, kicking and throwing a Classic Jax Attack. In the middle of the gym floor. With everyone watching.

(Later, Ryan told Shawn she was embarrassed about it. I rest my case.)

I breathe, put him in a choke-hold and carry him off the floor, to the sanctity of ...THE WAITING ROOM.

God, that place is a nightmare.

You know the "Perfect Moms" right away -- theye were there 10 minutes early, their kid has been here 2 years already (her radar clued into the place much sooner than mine, YMCA-loving freak that I am), she looks awesome in short brown hair, a REAL tan, no makeup, polo tee, j crew shorts and is happily bouncing her new baby on her knee. Did I mention she's already lost any baby weight she may (doubtful) have put on?

Then there are the "Ex-Cheerleader From A Small Town Moms", who I relate to only because they remind me of friends of mine who actually were small town High School cheerleaders, so I know they're not all that bad. But still...they sure have a lot of "pep". And they love to say things like "No WAY!" and "Good Deal!" and "SO AWESOME" a lot. It's just funny is all.

And then there are all the "Older Moms", who look like you imagine your mom might look now if she was your age: a little frumpy, but still attractive, just in kinda bad clothes. (No offense, mom.)

And then there was me. The mom who is always late, usually frantic, kid's hair is rarely brushed, with the funny-little-screaming-toddler-who's- really- not- that- funny- at- all- but- you- people- keep- laughing- at- him- so- he- thinks- he- is kid and the inability to control him whatsoever. Plus, I looked really weird yesterday, what with my "Green is Good" Tee, my silver ballet flats, and the turquoise necklace Ry put around my neck as we were getting out of the car. For good luck.

So we opt (are forced, whatever) to sit in the back corner away from everyone else, but that doesn't help, because right next to us is the other entrance onto the gym floor, which does nothing but tempt the devil a little bit further out of Jaxson.

This is new for me, kids. Normally, if this were church or something, we would all just suffer a little longer than necessary (as penance for what were were about to do) and then leave, but seeing as how Ry was in the middle of class, and I still wasn't clear on what the rules were in regards to leaving the premises, I was stuck. At her other gym class he was always in the nursery, and I could go work out if I wanted. I never HAD to sit through the whole thing and I never HAD to do it with Jax in tow. My days of running were over. I had to think quick.

I dug in my purse for change and was able to extract fifty cents, buying Jax a bag of cookies, and me some quiet time. Sure enough, 5 minutes later he finished the bag of cookies and had started banging on the plaxiglass-window, so I suggested we go look for toys in the car. We did. But all found was Ryan's stuffed pink poodle, FiFi, who had a metal-studded black leather belt tied around her neck like a leash. (I'll explain another time.)

Hey, if it makes the kid happy, I'm not about to argue.

(But boy, did he get a lot of compliments on that pretty pink dog of his.)

So anyway, we made it through the class, with a couple more escape attempts thrown in for fun, Ry did her thing and all ended well.

By Amy terms, anyway. I still managed to make an ass of myself on her first day at a new place, which may or may not hinder her ability to make friends with any of her class mates, but there's still kindergarten, which reminds me...Orientation is tonight, maybe I should just send Shawn solo??

If I wasn't already a Blubbering Emotional Wreck, I am now...

Ryan's preschool teacher, the beloved "Ms. Laura" sent a package to Ryan that we received yesterday. It included a copy of the book "The Kissing Hand" and the following note:

Dear Ryan,

I hope you have had a wonderful summer. I've had a nice summer, but I miss all of you so very much.

You must be getting so excited to begin kindergarten. Do you remember reading "The Kissing Hand" last year on the first day of school? Well, I thought you might like your own copy to read this year.

Ryan, always remember, "You are loved".

Have a great year and keep in touch.

Love,

Ms. Laura

See? There are Angels everywhere...

MOTY Update 2007

Well, kids, I have done it once again, and am back in what I really feel should be the uncontested running for Mother of the Year. After the slumber party I just pulled off for Ryan, Sainthood can only be just around the corner.





Stupidly, and with stars in my eyes, I agreed to let Ryan have an end-of-summer slumber party, and went to town making hand-made invites for each of the 3 girls who would be anointed with the pure pleasure of spending the night at Casa del York.





Not only that, but I had promised Ryan that we could make personalized stationary for each of the girls as a take-home party favor, a task I quickly regretted agreeing to, seeing as how none of the moms really knew what to say about the gifts, and the girls didn't even know what they were. That, and it takes me about 2 hours to make 4 cards. Cest la vie! I had fun and Ry was pleased, so what more can you ask for??





We made individual pizzas,
ate lots of brownies, and the girls spent the majority of the time floating between watching High School Musical 2 and playing a game they made up call "Mystery girls", the foundation of which I quickly learned came from the fact that they had, as it got darker, turned out the lights, turned on their flashlights and proceeded to follow the mystery "footprints" that had been left all around the house. When they were finally able to get me to come play along, it was to my major embarrassment and minimal joy that I saw the 'footprints" they were following were actually just all the nasty stains and spills that cover our carpets. Nice.





I'm just glad I was able to aid them in the imagination process. Then I built a huge fort, where they played incessantly, until someone decided to venture to the blackness of the backyard to hunt for MONSTERS. One guess which girl that was...






Shawn had swept Jax away with him the minute the first girl showed up, and finally returned around 10:30 after watching the Cowboys game at Ginger's. The girls were totally stoked to see Jax, and he soaked up the adoration. It reeked of foreshadowing.





Nestled in their comfy couch bed in front of the tv, they eventually fell asleep to Curious George, but not before the last of the tattling brought with it orders from me for everyone to "take a deep breath, and take turns". I laughed as I overheard the tattler repeat my words to the rest of the gang, declaring that "Miss Amy said to take turns, and that you, you, you and me all have to take a deep breath." And then they did.





I wish I'd had time to jot down every humorous thing overheard, but with all the card-making, kitchen cleaning, fort-building and running tattle-tale interference, I could not do much more than laugh with no one at the funny things that came flying out of the mouths of 5 -yr-old little girls.





Anyway, Sunday morning came roaring into our room at 7:30 am, and I quickly grabbed Jax and went in search of chocolate-sprinkled donuts, leaving Shawn to fend off the she-beasts on his own.





One by one, the girls took their leave, and finally, blessedly, at 12:30 the last one left and all four of us retreated upstairs for a nap. And nap we did.





But now the mess remains, I have online BTS shopping to complete, and someone has to do something about the growing expanse of my backside, so it might as well be me. Thank God for the YMCA's free childcare.





Didn't I tell you? Mother of the Freakin' Year.

High School Musical 2: The Meltdown

Ever since I found myself showing Ryan a scene from Grease 2 ("Cool Rider", if you must know. And yes, I did show her how we used to use the arms of the couch to be Stephanie Zanoni.), wondering how in the hell our moms let us watch this when we were her age, I have let up a little on my High School Musical Ban, allowing her to watch both 1 and 2 which, as most of the free (mommy) world surely knows by now,premieres tonight. I have to say, I'm totally giving in to peer pressure on this one.

Along with the rest of the Disney-watching community, we have been on HM2 alert for the majority of the week, so my lifting the ban a day before the premiere was a little like how I imagine bringing home a pony would be.

She's been exhilarated all yesterday and today, has it circled on her calender, and she has asked me to only call her Gabrielle from now on. When she woke up this morning next to me, the first words out of her mouth were: "High School Musical 2 is today!!"

She's asked repeatedly for posters for her wall like her other friends, to which I reply, "I like your Harry Potter poster."

"I do, too, mom, but maybe I could put the High School Musical poster above my bed on the ceiling," (which would make it 15 inches from her face) "then I could kiss Troy!!"

You see? This is what I was afraid of. The boy she wants to "kiss"is this one. Yeah that's nice.

Then again, have you seen Harry Potter lately??

*DISCLAIMER: In her defense, Menana did eventually instill a ban on Grease2. She got tired of hearing us sing "Reproduction" all the time in public places like the store, the bank, church...

P.S.

I'm selling some of Jaxson's old stuff, so if you or anyone you know are in the market, check out my auctions on eBay.



**Panhandling session over**

Nanny-nanny-boo-boo

Lately, Ryan has been overheard comparing herself to Jax, in not-so-nice ways. I think before now he was just a little rambling ball of poop and crumbs to her, and now suddenly he's speaking full sentences and comprehending things, and her world has been turned upside down.

Hence this little diatribe, overheard this morning at breakfast:

(As they are watching a cartoon that asks them to find an object on the screen)

Ry: "You didn't find it Jax, I did, so I'm smarter than you...Well, I mean, you're smart, too, just not that smart."

To which Jaxson replied by shoving an entire pop tart into his mouth and growling.

Point taken.

Look! Look!!

New Inventory!! I've actually sold out of both the Birthday and Gratitude lines shown here, but am currently making more, and am always happy to take custom orders. Check back soon for pics of our adorable personalized stationary!!

The truth hurts

Shawn and I are going on a date tonight for our anniversary, and when I came downstairs just now I asked Ry if she thought I looked okay, and would Daddy think I looked pretty?

"Well...I mean, I like what you're wearing it looks good, but , well, you know...I don't want you to get your feelings hurt, it's just, well, I really like it when you wear a dress better and when your hair is long and pretty."

"So I need to either wear a dress or grow my hair, huh?"

"Well, you wouldn't have to wear a dress. You could wear that shirt. "

"Just so long as my hair is long, right?"

"YES! Okay? YES! I LIKE YOUR HAIR LONG!!!GROW IT PLEASE!"

(laughing)"Hey, I want it long, too, but there's not much I can do to make it grow faster."

"I know,"folding her hands, "Dear God, please let my mom's hair grow!"

Barrel of monkeys

So tonite Shawn was helping out with Jax -- giving him a bath by himself -- when all of a sudden I hear him laughing. I start up the stairs, asking what Jax did, commenting, "Did he lay down in the water and just wait for you to see him? He always does that."

Between chuckles he replied, "Yeah he laid down. And then he peed straight up in the air."

Which then led us to changing for bed, wherein in an effort to stall, he approached me at my desk, picked up a picture I had printed off the computer, and declared, "Good Job, Mommy! Is Beautiful! Look, Lola. Mommy Good Job." (apparently he speaks in first intial upper-caps) Very convincing.

The best thing about it is that he completely devotes to the scene. I think he may be my little actor. Don't tell Shawn.

Big Wheels

See how happy he is? Two seconds later, he gets stuck in the grass, jumps out, kicks the jepp, crosses his arms, scrunches his face, stamps his foot and yells, "Darn It!!" with the ferocity formerly reserved for much nastier 4-letter words...

That's my guy

I've gotten a litle taste of what the school year will be like this week. Ryan's been going to day camp from 7:30-4:30, meaning early mornings and cranky afternoons, but more importantly -- One-on-One time with Jax!!

Yesterday we spent a copious amount of time lining up his various "Cars" cars, an activity he takes great care to perfect.

At one point he beckoned me to the big room to lay on the floor next to him and admire his work, all 4 cars lined up against the wall. After sitting and watching the cars for, oh 45 seconds, I was ready to move on.

"Good job, buddy." I said, sticking my fist out to him, "pound it."

Rather than respond with the appropriate hand maneuver that he so frequently uses with Shawn, he grinned at me, then proceeded to pound the crap out of his cars.

One step at a time, people. One step at a time.

All Things Bright and Beautiful

Our very own American Dream.

Next time I'm wallowing in self-pity over some silly something-or-other, please refer me to August 5, 2007:

The glorious gifts God had bestowed...

...like beer and summer evenings, grilled steak and sweet corn, and people to share them with.

"Petals", R.I.P. (My failed attempt at transferring a dying Mexican Heather to a new outdoor pot. Ry saw it was dead and got Jax to help her cover it in stones and bury it. She named it Petals, found a "headstone", and demanded I tell her how to write "Petals, March teenth" --cause apparently that's when it was born--and then she insisted on writing her name in the gaps left over. And then she wanted to know why I wouldn't let her label her own stuff for camp. Which begins tomorrow. Aggghhh!!!)

Boy for Rent

To any elligible toddler-aged young man looking for a friend. Please take him off my hands for 2-4 hours a week, encourage him to expend his energy outdoors rather than in, and fill in as requisite punching bag when called to do so. Currently accepting applications on a first-come, first-serve basis, but bringing along extra playmate for older sister will definitely bump up the app. Also, I make the BEST cookies. Just so ya know...

QOTD

"Guess what Big Daddy? Mommy farted in your car today. You'd better watch out."

--Ryan

Nothing a few donuts and some hugs and kisses can't fix

It's 8am, we're at the lake, and already Jax gone off running down a hill, throwing himself face-first into a sticker-burr patch. My mom's been pulling stickers out of his hair, between his toes, from inside his diaper...

Can't wait to see what the rest of the day holds!

I'm embarrassed to admit this, but...

..I just watched Jaxson scrape a piece of dried oatmeal from the kitchen table and eat it.

Lunch, anyone?

These Just In...

New cards from chunkyrhino! Our handmade cards are back, I've been working hard on lots of new 4pk sets, and am starting on Halloween and Christmas orders as we speak! Check out the adorable Baby cards I finished yesterday -- they ALMOST make me want to have another! (But then Jax rips open and pours out oatmeal packets/tea bags/coffe cans -- take your pick, he did. One of each this week.)

For a limited time, you can get 4 cards for $6 or 10 for $12. Have a custom order? Not a problem -- let me know and we'll get started!

(But not today. Today I'm taking the kids and Lola to visit Menana at the lake while Big Daddy rides his Harley to Arkansas to visit the kin folk. Tomorrow, though. Definitely tomorrow!!)

Ooh! I almost forgot -- keep checking back for the brand-new chunkyrhino design we'll be adding to our line of apparel and gifts -- featuring art work by Ryan!! Also, I just got a fresh batch of candles from Angie -- she's got lots of yummy new scents -- check 'em out before they are gone!!!

And last but not least, a big fat Congratulations and Welcome to my friend Rory and his new son Hudson and my friend Kellie and her baby girl, Alex. Rory is getting this for Hudson, and Kellie got this for Alex, although I forgot how much we both hated breast-feeding and that by the time Alex is big enough to wear it, it probably won't pertain to her, anyway. Maybe I'll make it up to her with some free Baby Girl cards...

I was THIS close

As I was making my bed earlier this evening, I caught myself thinking what a boring entry today would make -- great productive day, pretty low-key, but lots of stuff got done (school supplies purchased, house cleaned, sheets line-dried), when lo and behold I grab the comforter to put it on the bed only to find that Lola had peed on it, not 5 minutes after I took her outside to do that very thing.

She's such a bitch.

I Have the Sunday Blah's

(or, the just- finished- a- mad-dash- week blah's. either will do.)

We really did have a great time at VBS last week, but it threw everything else totallly off, which left me scrambling to clean our filthy, filthy home Friday afternoon just in time for Shawn's Dad to arrive and for me to start finishing a 100% hand-sewn Tooth Fairy pillow for one of Ryan's friend's birthday gifts. For a party that was Saturday. At the same time as another party, the gift for which I also had not picked out or wrapped. That's how we do things at CrazyLand. It makes everything more fun.

So anyway, I did finish everything off, we were only late to the first party by 20 minutes, and Ryan even begged me to let her stay at the 2nd party alone. I'd been granted a reprieve, as Shawn and Dana took Jax to a jumping place, so I took my solitary hour to head home and make another gift for Jeff whose party we were going to that night. Phew. Popularity really has it's pitfalls.

So anyway, I spent this entire day in my house, in my pj's watching the "My Boy's" marathon on TBS (new season starts tomorrow!!) and intermittenly eating, napping or reading. I love days like these, mostly because they are so so few and far between. Jax and Shawn are happily on board, as well, as long as we keep a continuous loop of Mickey on the other tv for Jax and I let Shawn snooze undisturbed. It's Ryan who the blowhard, but I'm doing my Mommy best to make it up with a Girl's Night tonight.

Wonder if she'd be interested in a long, hot bath and then some quiet reading time??

Who's A Lucky Mommy?

Today was spent flip-flopping between listening to Jax repeat the same question 14 times at 12 different intervals and laughing at Ryan, who was busy taking advantage of the stormy weather, screaming and running to the back door, banging on it and calling, "Madame, please may we come in? We are poor orphanages."

It was a good day.

Calling All Readers!!

Since the entire week thus far has consisted of a pain-free VBS and a mounting load of housework, I don't have anything funny for you -- but YOU can help ME instead! WAHOO!! (Sorry..VBS creeping in and all..)

Anyway, our pal Mindy has just launched a cute new site and I can't wait to send in a quote -- I just don't know which one to send! It's gotta be good, 'cause I'll probably only do this once, so I'm gonna let you guys pick for me!!

Feel free to reminisce over a favorite QOTD or entry, or just check out our archives and then email me or comment on what quote you think I should send in. I'll post the winning quote next Monday, and I'll send whoever helps me select it BIG PROPS!! I know, I know -- I'm very gracious that way.

Let me know if you send in one of your own kid's quotes so we can all scourge the site to find it.

Happy Hunting!!

What We Did on our Ya Ya Vacation

So, yes, it was a vacation, and we had a great time! The car ride to Port Neches is OH SO LONG, but that's what God gave us dvd players and iPod's for -- I'm pretty sure that was the 6th day. (I'll double check with my VBS colleaugues tomorrow.)



My Honey turned 78 on Saturday, and she could not take her eyes off of Jax. I think she was only really with him 1 or 2 times before she really went downhill. He was a little apprehensive, glued to the wall, with a furrowed brow and a sharp scream anytime we tried to pry him away, but we did manage to get him to give her a kiss right before he went running down the hall of the nursing home, screaming like a banshee, and jetted straight to the big administration desk-area, where he hid under the counter and made me get on my hands and knees to dig him out. You wouldn't believe how fast those employees appeared to watch the spectacle.



Then we graced some of the residents by hanging out with 'em during their smoke break. One man was literally half a body -- he literally sits on his ribs. But my kids were awesome. I was worried Ryan would let some innocent question slip, but she didn't, she talked with them and laughed with them, and Jax put on a show, giving high-fives and hugs all around. Of course, Pappy is there all the time, plays regularly there with his band and is the most genial person you will ever meet, so being his great-grandchildren certainly helped.



The rest of the visit was spent eating and playing, with Jaxson rousing everyone everywhere we went with shouts and yells. I really hate when other people laugh at this. Don't you know you're making it worse? Then again, I think I do prefer it to people like the woman who glared at him, then at me, and then turned her back to us. That wasn't nice.



At one point, I overheard Pappy describing Jax as "A Holy Terror". Coming from the man who won his wife by knocking out her high school boyfriend (it was self-defense) and later, after several other boys claimed to be the one who did it, simply told her, "I'm the Real McCoy" , that's saying a lot. (Don't you just love that story?)



Anyway, We headed on to Galveston on Saturday, but not before we stopped and bought the last Harry Potter book. (Which Pappy bought for Ryan, who couldn't get her hands on it until this morning, seeing as how I was glued to it until 11:30 last night. I told you I'm a nerd. Btw -- Well Done, JK!!)



The kids were thrilled to ride the ferry, and even more excited to feed the seagulls. We took a 3hr nap, went swimming at the hotel pool and met a whole family from Louisiana who is likely related to us, based on how similar Ryan and the little girl behaved -- think Disney on Ice, the Late July Outdoor Edition , ate lobster and cheesecake at Landry's (where Jax persisted in his way, throwing his napkin onto the patio's surrounding hedges. Repeatedly.), and we watch the Rainforest Cafe's Volcano explode. It was the best night.

The next morning we actually let the kids eat INSIDE the Rainforest Cafe (as opposed to the peering-in-like-beggars route we took the previous night), and they ate it up. Ryan couldn't get enough of the automated jungle animals, and though Jax was extremely apprehensive (staying glued to his seat, brows furrowed, shouting should you attempt to move him -- much like Nursing Home Jax), but did eat A LOT of food.

At one point, Ryan was sitting on a ledge, posing for a picture in front of the elephants when the Baby Elephant's trunk moved and nudged her backside.

She quickly looked at Menana wielding the camera and commanded, "Hurry."

So anyway, now we're home and while I've been writing this, Ryan has been having a long conversation with the plumber about God and Rahab and the soldiers and Jericho and Joshua and who only knows what, and Jax has emerged from his nap, exited his room, and has proceeded to hug the guy.

I'm not sure what that means, but the plumber was floored.

I'll have photos once Menana sends them. *guilt, guilt, guilt -- very Ya Ya**

We're goin' on VACAY!!

And it couldn't come at a better time. What with the week we've been having...Jax's monumental tantrums at every store he's been to this week (you know, the kind where strangers approach offering him candy just to get him to shut it -- I'll be venting about that later), Jax pouring out the contents of our coffee can into Lola's water bowl (maybe he knew she had a long night?), Ryan's mood swings, and my late nights staying up hand crafting presents and cards for the gazillion people we know whose birthdays fall in July -- it got so bad last night that I ended up setting the coffee maker for Shawn this morning, and forgot to add the water. Plus, we've been operating with only one working toilet this week, and I forgot and used a wrong one last night, so I really need to vamoose before Shawn finds out.

Like I said, a few days away should do us some good. Or do us in. Either way, it'll be exciting.

South East Texas, here we come!!!

We've Been Bitten...

...by the CRAFT BUG!!!

While I've been busy here, Ryan's been making all sorts of animals for her clay menagerie.

Once I master my Photoshop Elements, we'll have a lovely stop-motion film for you to view.

*I can hear you all moving to the edge of your seats*

Meanwhile, here's what Jax's been doing between bouts of temper tantrums: Ahh, the joy that is newly opened all-natural organic peanut butter on whole wheat....

F&@*IN' FRUIT FLIES

aaarrrrggghhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh.

That's all.