Good Housekeeping?

Good Housekeeping says, "Conceal clutter with stylish storage. Decorative boxes blend in with books and art on shelves."

I say, "THAT'S HOW WE GOT IN THIS MESS IN THE FIRST PLACE- BY STASHING CLUTTER IN VARIOUS PLACES?!"

More Fun Facts!

82. I love to nap. So I realize that probably sounds totally lazy, but it’s not! Well, ok, maybe a little, but still- I utilize my “disco naps” to increase my productivity. It benefits everyone really…..Note to self: request mandatory nap time at Work Place……

83. I’m a terrible correspondent. Like possibly the worst ever. Just text me- I guarantee you’ll get a quick response!

84. I refuse to hand wash a dish. I do. I bought a mighty fine dishwasher (dish waRsher, if you are deep South) and I let it earn its keep. I do not have time to hand waRsh a dirty dish. That’s a lie. I refuse to MAKE time to waRsh a dish. It’s gross and I just don’t wanna touch it.

85. I do not “backtrack” when driving…EVER. If we have passed it and you realize you need it? Suck it up, Indiana Jones, because we are NOT going back after it….unless it’s gas, but even then I will debate a “backtrack” .

86. Generic brand cheese tastes like generic cheese. It’s disgusting. OK, that’s more of an opinion than an “interesting fact:’ however, I find it “interesting” that generic brand cheese tastes NOTHING LIKE CHEESE AT ALL. I don’t know what it is, but if something so vile leaves me speechless? IT CAN’T BE GOOD FOR HUMANITY.

87. I just realized I have had over 1900 hits in 2 months- WOW. Thanks guys – that’s like 950 people per month!!!! INSANE?! Also- for you fact-checkers, if you look to the toolbar on your right you’ll see 1 Stat Counter. It prolly only says 1600 ish…. This is because it was added AFTER the stat counter on the bottom that I log into. The bottom Stat Counter is the accurate one. Also, I do not know how to change the top one… so you’ll just have to TRUST ME, YO!

88. TongueGate ’09 has seemed to resolve itself. You can all rest easy now. Time is a miracle cure.

89. Yesterday was my 5 year anniversary at Work Place. Gifts are always appreciated and feel free to take me to lunch anytime. I’m kidding (but not really….) Hahahaha! (but not really) Smile. (BUT NOT REALLY)

Dear That Guy

Dear That Guy,
I really have to hand it to you for you have outdone yourself today. Not everyone can make me think about how many different ways I could assault you with this spoon and totally get away with it quite the way you do. The way you talk on your cell phone at an obnoxiously loud level astounds me. I cannot even hear the words coming out of my friend's mouth. You know, That Guy, I envy the way you openly discuss your business for the general population to hear. You made how much money again? In US dollars? Oh, and yen too! Wow. Can I touch you? Maybe just once…? And here I thought restaurants were for eating- but No! Alas, you have managed to transform your corner booth from “restaurant booth” into your “personal office away from your other office.” Kudos. I have never seen that done on HGTV.

You order the waitress around like she’s a paid secretary and that’s not cool, yo. And did you really just tell her the food “sucked”? Oh yea, I like the way you pick on her, but won’t dare say it to the cook. For you are a small man, That Guy, and the cook? Why, he is a literal giant. I respect the way you think you are much bigger than you actually are, but secretly know better. I see you’ve realized you were out of line with her so now you appear “flirty”. Gross. You have a combover. She is not interested. Plus, she is like 30 years your junior. She is still not interested. You do not give up though. You are “That Guy”. You have leather shoes with no socks and golf shorts on. From this angle, it appears you may have even “popped” your collar on that Polo. Ralph Lauren would be proud. You are a sight to behold, That Guy. The waitress is still being nice to you. Probably because she needs your tip, but you know that. You are intentionally trying to push her buttons, yet she keeps a smile on her face. I feel bad for her; however, it DOES humor me to know that she has probably spit in your drink already and that thought makes me laugh. I used to work in the food industry so I know….Oh? What’s that now? You don’t care about what I have to say? Much like the person on the other end of the phone. They must not be very verbal or maybe that’s just because you haven’t stopped talking long enough for them to say anything. Right…you’re the boss. Tell me again about that merger with that company in a country I’ve never heard of. Oh my! What did you just say?! I mean, I am actually pretty intelligent and I can honestly say I’ve never heard that word before. It certainly doesn’t sound very nice though. I would probably spank my 3 year old if she said that to me. Are you sure you should be yelling it out with small children nearby? Oh, that’s right- you don’t care. You are "That Guy". Rules don't apply to you.

OK, I've had about all I can take.

You, Sir, are certainly too big for your britches as my grandma would say. You are one of a kind. Now, listen- I don’t mean to judge you or anyone for that matter- I know better than to throw stones, but you are making it downright impossible for me not to do so. In fact, I want to throw a stone and I kinda want that stone to hit you in your head. So as not to slander you, I will preface saying “You are a jerk!”, with “In my opinion…” That way it’s totally legal.

PS – if you don’t tip her, I will throw this spoon at you and make it look like an accident- DON’T TRY ME!

August 27, 2009

August 27, 2009

So, I hope you all enjoyed my 6 part mini-series about The Best Worst Vacation Ever! It was quite an adventure. I daresy it was the Best Worst Adventure in all the land! It was SUCH an adventure; in fact, that there were several parts left out due to the ridiculous length of the story. Good times, though. Good times.
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Brogan has apparently turned into a mouth teenager like overnight. I’m not quite sure how to deal with this situation, but I am positive that the next time she tells me “whatever” and rolls her eyes at me, it may very well be the last thing she ever does. Ingrate. Hmph!
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So, I’ve starting running again. And by running, I totally mean “running”. It’s more of a trot really, but not quite a gallop. And to be honest, there is a good bit of walking in place of “running”, but let’s not split hairs – it’s still a cardiovascular activity. I should preface this by saying that I used to live for running. Do you hear me? LIVE. That was before kids though, back in the days when I had plenty of free time, oh and money. MP and I used to run races every weekend and not to toot my own horn or anything, but I almost always placed in my age group. Those were my glory days, so you can just imagine my surprise when I got back out there last night and NEARLY DIED. You guys- it was so, so bad. I would say it sucked, but MP says I use that word too much. As such, let’s just say it “VACUUMED”. A LOT. I have never felt more out of shape. I am almost too embarrassed to tell you that, mid-run, I totally ducked into a restaurant and begged for water. I am not kidding you. I was all “Dude, (huff-huff), I would normally (huff-huff) NEVER do this (huff-huff), but I mean- I am about to (HUFF-HUFF) DIE. Can I (HUFF-HUFF) please (HUFF-HUFF) have some water?” The guy was all, “So, you’re about to die? Is that right?” And I’m all, “DE-FIB! DE-FIB!” and he gave me water.

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True Story of the Best Worst Vacation Ever: Season Finale

On the road again, we found that our spare tire wasn't holding air as it should. We located a hole-in-the-wall all night gas station for a tire plug and were accosted by a man who, if memory serves me, tried to convince us that he could fix the tire with chewing gum? We left as quickly as we could and soon we found ourselves in Louisiana. We decided to stop and rest, plus we were really hungry and really tired of Mexican food. We found a place that sold hot wings. It was after lunch, but still early afternoon. Besides us, there was only one other couple in the entire restaurant. Marty and I joked about the black cloud following us and how we couldn't believe all the bad things that happened. All of a sudden, I heard the girl next to us speak words to her date that I have never heard spoken in real life before. "I'm sorry, but I cannot marry you. Here....", she said as she handed him the engagement ring back. We were floored. All we could say was, "dude, I'm really sorry" and we high tailed it out of there before something worse happened.

We breathed a sigh of relief when we crossed the Mississippi line and an even bigger sigh when we saw our house. We had to come home first to unload the cargo and to get a second vehicle so that we could drop the rental off at the airport. We take a few more pictures with our disposable camera and leave again. We dropped the car off and rehashed our events during the car ride home. It was really all we could talk about. We talked about how no one would believe us and how glad we were to have taken pictures of the speeding ticket, the flat tire, the luggage, etc. Home again for good, we realized we had two more pictures left to take. I used them on our cat and rewound the camera. I was getting these bad boys developed as soon as possible! Well, I would have, but during rewinding the film snapped in half and could not be salvaged. "Well, that's just the icing on the cake!" we said. We didn't even unpack. We bathed, ate, and settled in on the couch for some relaxation. I don't remember who thought to check the answering machine, but suddenly the room was overwhelmed with the following message: "Mr. Puckett, this is Delta airlines. We are calling to inform you that the Jackson airport has been closed and your flight canceled; however, we have made alternate flight arrangements for you. Please contact us at ........."

I am not even kidding you.

True Story of the Best Worst Vacation Ever Part 5/6

We spent the remainder of our time there just being tourists. We shopped and visited with locals. We had family there that we spent time with. On our last day, we made the drive back to Albuquerque. It was nice and we'd wished we had just one more day to spend. As we had actually allotted one extra day of vacation, we decided to call Delta and see if we could change our flight. It was a good thing we did because we were informed that the Jackson airport was closed due to a severe thunderstorm and all flights, ours included, had been canceled. Huh? Oh, and the next flight out? Well, it could not be determined. It would have been nice to have known that prior to our driving three hours. We'd have much rather stayed in Durango. We tried to make alternate travel arrangements and requested to be put on whatever plane they had to wherever it was going, we didn't care, but Delta could not assist us.

Nonetheless, we could get through this. After all, we had managed to fix a broken bow, driven in 100 degree non-AC accommodations, contorted ourselves into a micro machine, survived 30 hours in the wilderness, narrowly escaped a broken finger and avoided a $25k fine. We were getting home and weren't about to let flight cancellation stop us. We made the decision to drive from New Mexico to Jackson, MS.

We thought the drive would be fun. Just the two of us driving cross country, enjoying each other's company- it just sounds ideal, doesn't it? It was all that and more until we got to Texas. We hit a speed trap and were given a speeding ticket. We continued on and ultimately decided to just drive through the night. With our luck thus far, we knew that any hotel we dared to stay in might catch fire and we didn't want to chance it. At around 2 am somewhere in the most remote part of Texas, we got a flat tire. It was a good thing we stopped though because as Marty was disassembling the luggage in our trunk to get the jack, I had an intestinal emergency. See, my "system" had been out of whack all week and I decided to take a medication that may or not have contained the word "LAX" in its title. Don't judge me. Desperate times called for desperate measures. So as he was hunkered over the flat tire, I was off hunkered over some shrubs. Once we'd both contained ourselves, we took pictures of the flat tire with our previously-purchased-for-the-sake-of-good-hunting-pics-Kodak-disposable camera.

True Story of the Best Worst Vacation Ever Part 4/6

It turned dark on us while we walked, but fortunately we were just close enough that with flashlights, we were able to make it out that night. It had been almost 30 hours since our ordeal had begun. It had been three hours since we'd found out that if the helicopter (that had been
dispatched minutes before the ground Search and Rescue found us) had found us first, we would have been fined twenty five thousand dollars. No, you read that right. The fine was $25,000.00. Why? Because you remember me telling you that Marty had purchased a hunting license in the amount of $537.50? Apparently, $2.50 of that is insurance. I did not buy a hunting license because I was not hunting. I should have bought a hiking license for $2.50.

You would think that that would be the end of my story, but you would be wrong. Once we'd arrived back to the comfort of a warm bath and bed, I realized just how beaten up I was. I was physically unable to walk up the stairs to our bedroom so I was forced to "scoot" up and down the stairs for two days. The first thing I did - even before my bath - was throw away my boots. They were damaged beyond repair and had failed me feet. My socks were stained black from the burnt brush. I had cuts and scrapes and bruises. The soreness was what really got me. I required large amounts of anti-inflammatories to make it out of bed over the next two days.

Once my body and I were back on speaking terms, we ventured into town. Our first stop was to purchase a new pair of boots. Our second stop was dinner with the Search and Rescue crew. As we headed to meet them, we got the call that George's truck had a broken axel and was stranded. We went to help and as Marty was assisting in loading the truck onto a trailer, something broke and the weight of the truck came crashing down on his hand. Nothing was broken, but it took months for his finger to fully recover. We finally ate dinner and surprisingly, the meal was uneventful.

On day three after our ordeal, I felt well enough to attempt camping again. We found a spot that looked ok, but more importantly it was safe. We hiked in, pitched our tent and began to hunt. That night as we settled into our uneven tent, we heard a strange yet familiar noise. We looked out and saw several men driving out on four-wheelers. They were so close we could hear their conversations. They never saw us, but Marty knew that this spot wasn't all that we thought it would be. Discouraged and disappointed, we decided to get some sleep, which we did, until we heard "mooing." We were basically in a cow pasture on a mountain side. Nice.

True Story of the Best Worst Vacation Ever Part 3/6

Now, let me try to explain to you the layout of the land. If you can imagine a big bowl-shaped ridge- almost like a toilet bowl. You have the toilet-seat which would be the upper ridge level and then you have the actual bowl part at the bottom, which is where we were. Now, in this bowl part, imaging little tiny mountains (literal mountains, not what you might find in an actual toilet because, well that's just gross). Each of these little mountains went straight up and straight down and in order to get to where we needed to be, we had to hike up and down every one of them. We decided our best course of action was to climb to the very top of the ridge, as opposed to staying in the bottom of the bowl. Once we finished trekking each of these mini mountains, we finally made it to the base of the ridge. I am not going lie to you. As we climbed that ridge, every part of me wanted to give up. It was almost like rock climbing with no pulley. The altitude made it hard to breathe. My glutes burned. My brain was all "I really should have trained more on the stairmaster!" and my legs were all "I hate you." I had not worn adequate foot protection and my boots rubbed blisters upon actual blisters. My feet bled, my toes threatened to cut me in my sleep and my heels concurred that I should sleep with one eye open. I was in so much physical pain that at one point I sat down, fell back and declared they would just have to carry by dead body out of there because I was done.

When we'd finally made it to the top of the ridge, we could see the town of Durango, CO. It was a glorious site and was only thirteen (13!) miles away. Now, all we had to do was get there...by foot, preferably before dark. We had been walking for about an hour or so, when we heard the first gun shot. We yelled and screamed, but there was silence. We waited until we heard it again. This time, Marty shot his own pistol to signal to the others. We saw no one and didn't know if they were hunters or day hikers or the entire cast of "Deliverance", but we didn't care. We wanted out. The next thing I remember is hearing our names being called and you guys- it was one of the best feelings I've ever had in my life. It didn't even matter to us that the voices were coming from down below. Like, from where we just came from, below. As fast as we could go, we hobbled all the way back down that ridge to the nearing voices until finally we saw the riders on horseback. It was Search and Rescue.

I still remember how awesome it felt to be rescued. More specifically, I can remember the Snickers bar and water that was provided to us. Now our only problem was getting back out. Surely we weren't too far away, right? Wrong. It was getting late, but we had to be close enough that we'd still get out by dark, right? WRONG. We had gotten five miles from where we needed to be. Five miles back up and down the little toilet bowl mountains to the other side. We had to move fast because if it turned dark, we'd be stuck for a second night and I was not down for that. I just wasn't. Thus began our death march.

True Story of the Best Worst Vacation Ever Part 2

We dropped off our luggage at George's place and carrying only the clothes on our back, Marty's bow, a pistol and a day pack containing an emergency blanket, two granola bars and a
bottle of water, we get to the base of the mountain and mark the coordinates on our GPS. Marking it not once, but twice, we set off on the adventure of a lifetime. We hiked for what seemed like eternity, determined the land looked good and even heard the elk bugle. The temperature cooled as the sun dawned, so we decided to head back and get a good nights rest. We were going to get an early start in the morning. "Which way out?" asked MP. I knew he was kidding because we had come in from the right. I knew we needed to turn to the left and go back the way we came. Marty thought so too, but the GPS indicated we would be wrong in our assumption. In fact, the GPS told us to keep going the way we were going. We knew this was wrong, but we would be idiots to disregard the GPS. I mean, it is operated via satellite in space! So, we obliged and heeded the directions of the Garmin GPS. We walked to the spot where the GPS said our vehicle should be and of course, it wasn't there. By this time we have walked for hours and it is getting very dark and very cold. All Marty could say was, "Well, it looks like we're here for the night." I can almost hear the fright in his voice. Not about staying the night in the bear country with no supplies. I suspect it was the fear of what my reaction might be. To his surprise, I said "OK" , as I made myself as comfortable as I could on the ground. We did manage to get a fire started and I actually slept really well that night. Well, except for that one time when a spark leapt from the fire onto my face. That was not cool, but other than that, it wasn't bad. Marty, on the other hand, had quite a night. He was the one getting up every hour on the hour to stoke the fire. He was also the one who heard a low growling that he suspected to be a bear. We had been warned about the high bear population in the place we were stranded, thus the reason for the pistol. He was asleep when he first heard the grumbling. It woke him, but he saw nothing. When he drifted off, he heard it again. This time he grabbed his pistol and jumped up. Only then did he recognize the faint grumbling was actually me snoring.We awoke early that next morning. The only food we had was the two granola bars previously mentioned and what water we had leftover from the day before, which was not much. We shared a granola bar and began our walk out. The GPS was of no use to us. The date was September 11. I remember that because I cursed the US Government and swore they had messed with our satellites, which caused the error. Laugh now, but at the time I truly believed it was a governmental conspiracy.

True Story of the Best Worst Vacation Ever Part 1

My husband, Marty, and I decided in September 2004 that we would go camping and elk hunting in Colorado together. His father, George, had taken a contract job there and his residence was literally at the base of the mountain of which we would hunt. I had never been elk hunting, but Marty believes it to be the greatest adventure ever, next to kayaking, of course. As the date approached, Marty was ready. He practiced with his bow, as to not miss the kill shot and we physically trained, as the altitude was wicked. Our airline tickets had been purchased and our room and board were secured. The day before the trip we packed and packed some more. As Marty was packing his bow, the serving on his bow broke. This is where we should have realized it was going downhill fast.On the first day of our trip, we flew from Jackson, MS into Albuquerque, NM. From there, we rented a car and made the three hour drive to Durango, CO. I remember the heat. Although this was Colorado, it was hot. Of course, that could have been because we missed our turn and went about one hour in the wrong direction when the air conditioner went out in our mid size rental car. "No problem", we thought, "We'll just exchange it for another car in Durango." Easy enough. You'd be wrong. We were able to exchange the car, but only for a compact. Remember, we had packed a lot of stuff. It took about 30 minutes to get the new car loaded. The luggage fit in the trunk like that of a jigsaw puzzle.

Upon leaving the rental facility, we made the traditional stop at Wal-Mart, as we do on every vacation. This time, we had to purchase Marty's hunting license. It was $537.50. I wasn't hunting, so I didn't need one, but I did get some candy because that- I did need. It was still early in the day when we arrived at George's temporary residence. It would still be several hours before he got back from work, so we decided it was a great time to hike the mountain and do some scouting. After all, we had spent a lot of money on this trip and we wanted the best possible camping spot available.

God is Good!

I just got back from lunch with a very good friend of mine. She's one of those friends that you may not see or speak to for like, 8 months, but when you do get together it's like no time passed at all. One of those friends who is extremely smart and beautiful and funny and really has no brain filter, so she says the first thing that comes to mind. A friend that proudly declares herself to be a "strong, black woman!" even though she isn't, in fact, black, but rather of Indian descent. You know, one of "those" kind of friends. They are the best. And I love her.

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So, lately I've been feeling like I've been led to do "something". Not necessarily something different, but I guess just something "more", if you will. I haven't yet put my finger on it though. I wish God would just text me and say, "Listen up. This is what I want you to do...." And I could be all, "A'ight, God- I'm IN, yo!" But He hasn't. So I have prayed about it. And prayed about it some more. I love to sing, but with 2 babies and a kayaking husband it's hard to commit to such a rigorous schedule. So I thought some more and one of the things that seems to stand out is my love of writing. I love it. I daresay, it is my passion. I don't know that I'm all that good, but I do know that writing makes me happy. It's the one thing I could do all day and not get bored and STILL want to do it some more. Unlike so many things I have tried like, childcare and cooking dinner for people. I'm not gonna lie to you- I am not jonesing to cook for anyone. So, writing it is- Great! I'll do something to glorify the Lord with that! Yes! OK, but what? I honestly do not know. Other than writing a blog that a few people read and some quips on Facebook, I'm kinda at a loss. I don't think Pinelake has a kiosk geared towards "Writing for Jesus!" Hmmm. Ok.

Well, that led me to think about maybe joining a bible study. I know. I can't quite make the connection myself, but go with me. I am not ready to commit to a Sunday night small group again. It's just too much for us and the kids, so I looked at some women's bible studies. OK, then I realize the scheduling conflict. Most of the women's bible studies offerred are on Tuesdays. In the morning. While I am at work. Working. Hmmm, that;s not gonna work. So THEN I thought I heard a voice saying to me, "Duh, start your own?" Hello. So I decided to start a group geared towards working moms. Still feeling a little sketchy because, I AM NOT A TEACHER, LIKE AT ALL- DO YOU HEAR THE WORDS COMING OUT OF MY MOUTH! OMG- NO ONE IS GOING TO WANT TO JOIN MY GROUP AND THEY ARE ALL GOING TO LAUGH AT ME AND I'LL BE THAT KID THAT HAS TO EAT ALONE EVERY DAY AT SCHOOL!

But lo and behold, guess what happened. I texted 6 working moms and within 30 seconds ALL OF THEM REPLIED BACK AND I WAS 6/6! God is good! We're still in the developmental stages, but I'll let you know how it goes!

I'd rather be at home today

8/3/09
Have you ever had one of those days where you wake up and want nothing else more than to just stay home? Today is most definitely one of them. I didn’t want to get out of bed and I most certainly didn’t want to haul myself into work today. Do you know what I’m saying? It’s not that I didn’t want to come to work, per se. It’s just that I would rather not have. But I’m here. And I’m making it just fine. And I’m using my generously offered 15 minute break to type this. After all, I don’t smoke so how else am I to use my time, I ask you?!

Speaking of time, this past weekend just went by way too fast for my liking. We had a ton of stuff to do, but surprisingly didn’t do any of it. We did not bring dinner to our close friend. Not because we didn’t want to, but because her Saint husband took their 2 oldest children out of town for the weekend and it was just her and the babies (identical twin boys!) and her parents. She was just gonna chill for the night, so we’re rescheduling for another time. Oh, and we did not attend all 3 birthday parties as planned either AND I DON’T EVEN FEEL BAD ABOUT IT. Strike that. I feel bad enough to send gifts and a little bad because I always try to attend everything I’m invited to (edited to add: please do not consider this an open invitation to invite me to every Aloette, Premier Jewelry, Pampered Chef, Avon, Southern Living, or Mary Kay party you might be thinking to host – at this point in my life, the generosity of my extra time and money is devoted solely to my children and their subsequent invites. Thx.) Well, my mother DID take Brogan to the splash park party Saturday morning and, of course, she still hates it. So I’m glad I missed that one. Bebe didn’t come home until almost 2:00 pm wherein she promptly fell asleep and slept thru bday party # 2. We were planning on attending the 6:15pm party FO SHO, YO! but several things happened that prevented us from actually doing so. 1- Swaid slept for MOST OF THE DAY, but still fell asleep before the 6:15 party. 2- the rain came and we didn’t want to get out in it and 3- Brogan hates Pump-It-Up. Like hates it a lot, so we saved them $5 and a whole lot of irritation by her not attending. It was great. Well, except for the rain- that part sucked. I think I’ve facebooked about how “over it” I am. I still feel that way. Except possibly even more now that my grass ATE MY CAR.

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I’m sure I’ve mentioned that Beckham Swaid Puckett will turn 1 on August 20th!!! Well, I think I’ve finally decided to do a pirate-themed birthday party for him. I no HE won’t care, but I can’t think of anything else. Plus I found a super cute “wench” costume for Bebe. I know it sounds tacky, but you just have to see it. It really is more adorable than hooch, I promise. That’s as far as I’ve gotten though on party details. I’m in a bit of a dilemma as to WHEN to have it. His birthday is the Thursday, 20th, so I thought about a party on Saturday, the 22nd. But I have one sister-in-law and nephew that won’t arrive from Colorado until the 23rd. Not for the party, but for other reasons. I could have the party on Sunday, 23rd and that would be ok too, except that my OTHER sister-in-law may do something crazy, like GIVE BIRTH TO MY AS OF YET UN-NAMED NIECE! If she does, then she’ll be out of commission for that day. And I really want her to be there?! What to do? What to do? Part of me (ok, well A LOT of me) feels bad for not having a spendicularly (I’m totally gonna trademark that word, by the way) lavish hoorah for his 1st because I did that with Brogan. Of course, I also vowed to “never do that again”, but you know how mothers are. And I would hold his party and the exact same venue as her First party was, had they not shut their doors forever. Apparently they did not consider my future needs when they decided to close. Ingrates. The only thing left would be to host it at my house. Which was great for 3 year olds. Because they could play with stuff. Outside. That’s the keyword here. OUTSIDE. As much as I love kids, I just don’t want 1000 of ‘em running about mah crib. It’s bad enough that I have to clean beforehand, but the mess afterwards? ALMOST MAKES LIFE NOT WORTH LIVING.

All that being said, I’m down to either:

A) Suck it up and party on the 15th at my house with family and closest friends only and deal with the hating of all the cleaning
B) NOT have a big party and then deal with hating myself for not adequately celebrating the birth of my only son

Hmmm. I guess my money’s on A.

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PS- I am really, REALLY tired of Katy Perry’s “Waking up in Vegas”. Enough already.

PPS- I am also really tired of “bad things coming in three’s”. Some slack, please?

PPS- Does anyone have any suggestions as to how to get a 3 year old to stop sucking their thumb or “drinking her fum” in Brogan-speak?

Food for Thought

As much as I am enjoying my time with no kids (technically Swaid is HERE, but is in his bed playing) I do miss my Bebe. One of the things she asks us daily is "Do I make you happy?" I know, it's sweet, right? And every day we reply, "Yes, baby. You make us very happy" and her little face lights up brighter than all the stars in the sky! She doesn't stop there though. No. She puts forth effort to make us happy. She actually TRIES. She dances for us. She obeys us. She's sweet to her brother. She sings for us. Basically, she's our entertainment, but she does it with such a sweet and loving nature that it's almost wrong to consider it "entertainment"- it's more like we watch her in amazement as any loving parent would. In every thing she does, she stops and asks, "Do I make you happy?" She strives to please us and it makes her happy to know that she's made us happy. I was thinking about that this morning and was struck with the thought "What if I put forth that much effort for God?" What if I stopped every day and asked Him out loud "Do I make you happy?" How much more self-aware of my actions would I be? Answer: A LOT. How often would I yell at people for poor driving? A LOT LESS. How much more could my "good" behavior make God smile? A LOT MORE. Do you see where this is going?

Then I got to thinking what if all believers put as much effort into making God happy as Brogan does to make me happy? I daresay it'd be better than 3 birthday parties and a Wildlife extravaganza at Disney World on a tax free weekend. How awesome would this world be?

I can honestly say that I've never given much thought to the question "God, do I make you happy" until now. When I am praising Him in song at home or church or in the car, am I making Him happy? Yes. I think I do. When I show kindness to strangers for something as simple as holding an elevator? Does that make Him happy? Absolutely. What about just being obedient and putting your shoes like I've told you for the 1000th time! or calling that person that you know He placed on your heart, even though you really don't want to? What about that? Without a doubt.

I can't help but think that He watches us in amazement every day. We are His entertainment and to think about how much greater is His sinless, perfect love than our sin-filled, selfish love is astounding. It almost leaves me speechless, which is saying something spectacular. Think about it and today, in all that you do, stop and ask Him "Do I make you happy?" I think you'll find that if you are conscious of it, you'll hear a lot more "Yes baby. You make Me very happy." And then your face will light up brighter than all the stars in the sky.

Advice Requested

I'm gonna try to make this a quick one because I have 1 child asleep and 1 child GONE and one husband in a boat on the water somewhere on mile something of his TWENTY mile kayak adventure. I am a happy woman this AM. A happy woman in a dirty house. So I really can't even enjoy my alone-ness because yo, my house is bad. Like BAD, bad. Not cluttery bad, unless you count the 2 extra chairs and the QUEEN SIZE BED IN OUR LIVING ROOM. It is mainly in serious need of mopping, dusting, windexing and vacuuming bag and I fully intend on doing all that today despite the fact that A) the Wildlife Extravaganza is here. Don't mock me. I like it. B) the tax free sale is going on! C) Brookshires has most of their meat "Buy 1 Get 1 for a PENNY!! D)I have to cook dinner for a friend tonight AND E) our attendance has been requested at 3 birthday parties (at the 2 places Brogan hates most in this world- splash park and Pump-it-Up).

Fortunately, we pawned her off on my parents yesterday and since my niece, who was also pawned off on said parents, is invited to the SAME party- gamma and peepaw are hitting the Splash Park with 2 girls today. I should probably tell them of Brogan's hatred of such place, but then again- it might deter them from taking her for me. And I really don't want to go thru THAT again. Hmmm. Ethical dilemma? I'm gonna let them take their chances and I'm gonna try to cleanse mah homestead.

Man. Big Sir has risen. Why did I jinx it? WHY?

Since Becks (Swaid, Big Sir, Sir Thighs, Sir, Tater, Swaid-er Tater, Beckham -just pick one) is up, I figure I have about 10 minutes until he's tired of crib playing and is ready to eat. again. After all, it has only been 45 minutes since he drank 14 ounces of formula and ate his approximate weight in Cherry Puffs. If I don't feed him soon, I fear he may wither. Bless him.

****I need the name of a great- child-friendly barber for Sir's mane. It is too long to spike and his head is to big to comb it "little boy" style. Trust me, it just is. He looks like Mr Lopard from Handy Manny and I just can't have my baby looking like that for other people to see. WITH.THEIR.EYES. Help a sista out, will ya? Recommendations?***** You can Facebook or leave a comment here. Thx.

Ummm. What else? OH! I need some advice: OK, so we got LOTS of new fish for our 55 gallon tank. It looks really cool now, except the water is cloudy. So cloudy that you can't see the back of the tank? We just changed the filters and did a water replacement yesterday and I swear the water is cloudier now than it was before? Does anyone else have this problem? If so, what did you do? Water clarifier? We (and by WE, I totally mean, MP) vaccumed all it last night and it isn't helping. Or am I the only idiot to invest in a 55 gallon fish tank?