I love how I learn something new and profound every day. Some days its as simple as learning one shouldn't go to the gym and traumatize her leg muscles the day before she goes to the New Orleans Zoo where she will be walking a random marathon WHILE hauling a 20 pound infant/ and or two year old. Some times its merely learning to forgo mascara and eyeliner if one is going to watch a movie called "Courageous" about Daddies and dehydrate from loss of fluid through the eye ducts. Yesterday it was to examine the canned goods in the pantry and throw out cans that were bought at some random salvage food store that expired in 2007. TODAY its only 9:45 in the a.m. and I'm already learning.
#1- Its done got COLD at 6:00! #2 I can't make Brighton laugh while nursing. We BOTH nearly drowned in milk when he unlatched to grin. #3 I'm currently reading the "Help." NOOooo, I haven't watched the movie yet and I'm NOT watching it until I'm ALL done with the BOOK. I borrowed it from the library. I'm on chapter 17. (still half a book to go). I've renewed the book 3 times already. I hope noone is waiting on my to finish it ANY time soon. I only give myself the luxury of reading while I'm working out, sitting at a red light, or waiting in the car while Starling shops. Since I haven't been in the same vehicle with Starling except to go to church in like- FOREVER, and I usually GAS IT when the light turns yellow, I haven't gotten much reading done. AND I slacked up on going to the gym because I've peaked. I'm not getting ANY stronger, my muscles aren't getting ANY bigger, and my stomache isn't getting ANY smaller. SOOO the ONLY motivation I have to go to the gym? TO READ. And so I suddenly enjoy the tread mill because its 20 minutes of uninterupted reading. VERSUS one minute 30 second reading spurts.
WHERE was I GOING with this story... OH YES! THINGS I learned today! I learned how to get rid of a cold from Aibleen, a character in the book. Honey, warm water, and a bit of lemon. AND the character Minnie is giving a "brainless" woman cooking lessons. LOVING those! I may be able to cook real greenbeans. SINCE Minnie has to REPEAT herself ten times and the woman she is teaching asks the "most dense" questions- questions "I" thought were pretty good ones. I sure didn't know the answers.
AND some great NEWS!!- GOT MY CAR TITLE IN THE MAIL YESTERDAY!!! WOO HOO!! IT's been a YEAR!! I did have a mild heart palpitation when Starling put on the tag. I asked, "WHY DOES IT SAY 2010!?" Because of course the DMV gave us an out dated tag. But Starling said, "Wendi. The 10 stands for the month." PHEW! Close one! And here is what I learned... NOTHING Can put a damper on me GETTING a TAG!!! NOT even finding out I have a suspended license!
Tuesday, October 25, 2011
Friday, October 21, 2011
Okay. Once I post this its official. And I'm going to need some SERIOUS help! I hope everyone who can WILL come SUPPORT ME!!! (Ummm like YOU Starling! And Les!) Starling got tired of me whining about WHEN I could run with this idea I've been toying with for some... TWELVE months... and finally today he said, "JUST set a date and DO it!" SO I DID! Here is my FLYER that won't show up in the RIGHT dad-gum FORMAT!
BARGAIN BASH
GRAND OPENING!!
OCTOBER 29, 2011
(And EVERY Saturday)!
UNSTUFF your CLOSETS and MAKE some MONEY!!
For $15 you can set up your OWN yard sale in PRIME location!
Oak Grove/Friend Road (behind the storage buildings)
-FUN atmosphere
-LOTS of people coming to shop
-NO clean up!
(You can leave any unsold or unwanted items)
-FREE set up for GIVE-AWAYS
-Give away your puppies, kittens, and bunnies
-Please be fully set up by 7:30 a.m.
ATTENTION YARD SALERS!!
-No more running around at 6 a.m. on a SATURDAY morning!
-We open at 8:00 a.m. (so SLEEP IN)!
-Yard sales conveniently located in ONE place!
-Fun for the whole family (including PETS)!
Call Wendi Johnson for more details!
601.270.5808
NEEDED!!
(Set Up Fee WAVED for Grand Opening!!)
*We’d like to have a festive atmosphere complete with YUMMY food! If you have a grill and would like to sell hamburgers or hot dogs BRING IT!
*If you have a Moon Walk Bouncer and want to charge kids $.50 or $1.00 to jump- BRING IT!!
*If you have a Cotton Candy, Popcorn, or Snow Cone machine- BRING IT!!
*If you know how to make Funnel Cakes and have a way to cook them- BRING IT!!
*If you have fresh grown pumpkins, garden food- BRING IT!!
*If you have old tables that you don’t want any more, CALL me and I’ll PICK UP!!
*If you have STUFF that you just don’t WANT, CALL me and I’ll PICK UP!!
We have goals to fix up the old barn on the property and make it into a little Thrifty/Flea Market/Garage Sale thingy called... (wait for it... its ORIGINAL and CREATIVE above ALL names you've EVER known...) Starling came up with it. THE BARN. Yeah. I wanted to name it The Lilly Pad or Tu Tu Cute and sale froo froo stuff in it. BUT Starling whacked at my names like a crazed butcher. AND then proceeded to say the barn should be called The Barn. Whatever. So long as I get to FINALLY own a little store that's open only on Saturdays. For now. (We may eventually do more days. But that is SO very WAY into the future). So I hope that EVERY person out there will say to themselves, "Do I have clutter in my house?" (and I pray your house looks like mine. And I also hope you all have a Starling living there with you. OR you ARE a Starling). So you will say, "YES! I have MORE junk than I can BEAR to LOOK at anymore! I MUST haul it OFF!" And then I hope you say, "Wendi is an absolute dense and can never pull this thing off by herself," sigh, "I WILL take my junk up there and SET up a little booth JUST so she isn't standing there all by herself next Saturday morning with snot running down her face because noone showed up to her big GRAND OPENING. AND I haven't exactly collected ANY tables thus far so BRING ONE with you when you COME!! To put your stuff on. AND if it RAINS (which my luck it WILL) we'll just move it inside of the baseball building thing. But everyone cross your fingers that it WON'T rain! And if you really lie to yourself and tell yourself you NEED all those nic-nacs on your shelves, then at LEAST come and LOOK next Saturday so all the nice people that show up to help me put this on will not be sad. (And wanting to wring my neck). And it doesn't have to just be yard sale stuff... You can bring stuff you MADE! Like me. I'm bringing my tu tu's and hairbows. AND hopefully half the items in my HOME. (If Starling DOESn'T show up- then like 78 percent of things in my house may disappear...). And if you only have a FEW things then get up with some more people who have a few things. (I'm renting spots SOooO however many people and their stuff you can fit in one spot- only $15). That isn't too much is it? I'm going to live and learn. This is an experiment that I'm hoping turns out WAY better than my cooking.
WISH ME LUCK THEN HELP ME!!! THANKS ALL!!
BARGAIN BASH
GRAND OPENING!!
OCTOBER 29, 2011
(And EVERY Saturday)!
UNSTUFF your CLOSETS and MAKE some MONEY!!
For $15 you can set up your OWN yard sale in PRIME location!
Oak Grove/Friend Road (behind the storage buildings)
-FUN atmosphere
-LOTS of people coming to shop
-NO clean up!
(You can leave any unsold or unwanted items)
-FREE set up for GIVE-AWAYS
-Give away your puppies, kittens, and bunnies
-Please be fully set up by 7:30 a.m.
ATTENTION YARD SALERS!!
-No more running around at 6 a.m. on a SATURDAY morning!
-We open at 8:00 a.m. (so SLEEP IN)!
-Yard sales conveniently located in ONE place!
-Fun for the whole family (including PETS)!
Call Wendi Johnson for more details!
601.270.5808
NEEDED!!
(Set Up Fee WAVED for Grand Opening!!)
*We’d like to have a festive atmosphere complete with YUMMY food! If you have a grill and would like to sell hamburgers or hot dogs BRING IT!
*If you have a Moon Walk Bouncer and want to charge kids $.50 or $1.00 to jump- BRING IT!!
*If you have a Cotton Candy, Popcorn, or Snow Cone machine- BRING IT!!
*If you know how to make Funnel Cakes and have a way to cook them- BRING IT!!
*If you have fresh grown pumpkins, garden food- BRING IT!!
*If you have old tables that you don’t want any more, CALL me and I’ll PICK UP!!
*If you have STUFF that you just don’t WANT, CALL me and I’ll PICK UP!!
We have goals to fix up the old barn on the property and make it into a little Thrifty/Flea Market/Garage Sale thingy called... (wait for it... its ORIGINAL and CREATIVE above ALL names you've EVER known...) Starling came up with it. THE BARN. Yeah. I wanted to name it The Lilly Pad or Tu Tu Cute and sale froo froo stuff in it. BUT Starling whacked at my names like a crazed butcher. AND then proceeded to say the barn should be called The Barn. Whatever. So long as I get to FINALLY own a little store that's open only on Saturdays. For now. (We may eventually do more days. But that is SO very WAY into the future). So I hope that EVERY person out there will say to themselves, "Do I have clutter in my house?" (and I pray your house looks like mine. And I also hope you all have a Starling living there with you. OR you ARE a Starling). So you will say, "YES! I have MORE junk than I can BEAR to LOOK at anymore! I MUST haul it OFF!" And then I hope you say, "Wendi is an absolute dense and can never pull this thing off by herself," sigh, "I WILL take my junk up there and SET up a little booth JUST so she isn't standing there all by herself next Saturday morning with snot running down her face because noone showed up to her big GRAND OPENING. AND I haven't exactly collected ANY tables thus far so BRING ONE with you when you COME!! To put your stuff on. AND if it RAINS (which my luck it WILL) we'll just move it inside of the baseball building thing. But everyone cross your fingers that it WON'T rain! And if you really lie to yourself and tell yourself you NEED all those nic-nacs on your shelves, then at LEAST come and LOOK next Saturday so all the nice people that show up to help me put this on will not be sad. (And wanting to wring my neck). And it doesn't have to just be yard sale stuff... You can bring stuff you MADE! Like me. I'm bringing my tu tu's and hairbows. AND hopefully half the items in my HOME. (If Starling DOESn'T show up- then like 78 percent of things in my house may disappear...). And if you only have a FEW things then get up with some more people who have a few things. (I'm renting spots SOooO however many people and their stuff you can fit in one spot- only $15). That isn't too much is it? I'm going to live and learn. This is an experiment that I'm hoping turns out WAY better than my cooking.
WISH ME LUCK THEN HELP ME!!! THANKS ALL!!
Thursday, October 20, 2011
Speaking of Guardian Angels...
I don't consider myself some Politcal analyst or even SUPER duper politically informed. AND I don't care to much for politicians (no offense if YOU or YOUR SPOUSE is ONE). BUT- I am freaking out that people aren't even watching the Debates?? How the heck are you going to know who to vote for?? I guess most people are just going to vote for whoever runs against our CURRENT pres, unless of course you have been living in the ground for say... the last 4 years, and STILL think Obama is gonna bring about GREAT CHANGE. (Of course... he HAS brought about great AMOUNTS of change... I don't guess our economy has been this crappy in MY lifetime). ANYWAY- WATCH the DEBATES and get informed PEOPLE!! I still haven't decided who I like. I don't like either one of the Ricks, though, for SURE. One is an arrogant DUFUS and the other is so obnoxious I long to get my THUMP on with his EARS. I like Herman Cain and Romney and the rest of them seem pretty nice. (I like nice people. If you don't then WATCH the DEBATES and pick a MEAN one!) Okay- that's all I have to say about that.
NOW- on to my OTHER issues. So THANK you all for your sweet "BLESS your POOR children for having you and Starling as Parents" comments. I'm afraid for them, too. We have been very blessed. I know MY guardian angel forewarned Brooklyn and Brighton's guardian angels that they have their work cut out for them. (And I'm plain scared to know what Starling's guardian angel had to say. He probably snorted and said, "He's reproduced?! Heaven help us all!!" Especially when he found out that he had a BOY. And then for toppers- when the angel said, "Lets hope he takes after his mother" and my angel said, "Ummm.. he married WENDI, remember?" I think that's when Starling's guardian angel mumbled something about being too old for this and he wants a transfer).
All this talk about guardian angels... I am brought back to a beautiful vacation Starling and I took BEFORE we had babies.
*soft tinkling music* - *fuzzy image clearing*
AH. There we are. It is a lovely summer day in mid June. The air is a perfect 85 DRY degrees. Glenwood Springs, CO has never been so full of happy laughing people scurrying around for the Strawberry Days Festival. Starling and I are giddily frolicking down hiking trails, dipping our toes in river streams, tripping and falling and dropping our camera in river streams (okay- maybe that was just ME), and eating from Starling's camping stove. We found a BEAUFIUL bridge (that was actually part of someone's driveway) to camp under. Starling laid out camping pads, covered them in a giant fluffy down comforter, and we LAY down just soaking up the moment. The rush of the mountain river a little below us sending up a cool spray that freshened the warm air. The smell of sweet olive trees dancing in the breeze. And of course the taste of... well we were kissing each other. (We'd found a camp ground near by that had open bathrooms where we'd showered and brushed our teeth). It was just PERFECT. BUT- we REALLY wanted to add some excitement to our trip. (Hiking up to Hanging Lakes with a nose bleed and some kid running DOWN the mountain shouting bear!!! wasn't exciting enough for us).
We were driving in Starling's red broncho, windows down, when we saw it. THE THRILL to top all THRILLS. The Colorado River, white topping. We looked at each other. Starling drove to a Tire Place and bought too giant tubes for $10 bucks a piece. The FIRST warning that came to us was from the person selling the tubes. "Where are ya'll going tubing?" He asked friendly enough. "The Colorado River." He choked and sputtered, "No, son! You can't TUBE down the river! You need wet suits and life jackets and a RAFTING guide! You'll freeze to death PLUS the water is BRUTAL!" Uh huh. "Thanks for the TUBES!" THEN we hopped into our swim suits and headed to our destination. Mississippi style. When we neared the water, we both felt a little trepidation. MAYBE it WILL be a LITTLE dangerous... SO we got a couple of life jackets to be on the SAFE side. FINALLY, nothing could stop us. NOT even the SECOND WARNING. As we determined how we'd hop into our tubes, a WHITE WATER RAFTING group passed us. ALL in wet suits and life jackets. The guide started shouting frantically, "NOO!! You can't TUBE IN THIS!!! You'll BE KILLED!!!" We waved back smiling. We'd been told by the life jacket rental people that the snow had just melted and the water temp was a little above freezing. Snow MELT, they called it. Well, being from the South, that just went over my head, and I paid it no mind.
Well, the water did look a bit choppy and TERRIBLY quick. "What if we get separated?" I asked. Starling thought about this and in his great wittiness, announced, "I know what we can do." He proceeded to TIE our tubes together. (With Cable Wire from the back of his Bronco). "What if we fall off our tubes?" I asked, really feeling a bit anxious now that I was close enough to hear the ROAR of the water. SO Starling tied US to our TUBES. And when the SECOND Water Rafting guide went by and told us we would HANG ourselves that way, we decided we were ready to go in. SO, carrying our tubes and wires, and LEAVING our shoes, I went first. My butt didn't even TOUCH my tube. The water slung my tube and sent me plummeting into ICE. Starling reeled me in with my cable wire AND my tube and did we give up? NO. I spat and sputtered, and teeth chattering said, "We better BOTH jump in at the same time." So we did. ANd OFF we went.
After the initial whip-lash and after our butts were numb we started enjoying ourselves. We were FLYING! "WOO HOO! This is AWESOME!!" The sun felt INCREDIBLE against the sharp (and I mean SHARP) contrast of the ice water. We were getting shot up in the air from the current and random rocks and LOVING it!
BUT. Then a HUGE boulder emerged. We tried to not slam STRAIGHT into it but we were going so fast and steering a tube has never been my strong point. At the last minute Starling FLUNG me to keep me from face planting and he went the OTHER way. Our cable wire WRAPPED around the boulder sending Starling FLYING out of his tube. Luckily, he was tied to his tube. UNFORTUNATLEY, he was tied to his tube. (Why Lucky and Unfortunate?) Well- if he wouldn't have been tied to his tube he would have just gotten swept away and 100% drowned. BUT since he was tied, the cable wire was cutting him in half. I pulled myself to him trying to untangle him but the water was ripping us apart. He was SCREAMING in pain trying to loosen up the wire and I was just... screaming. Yeah. NO water rafters came by to save us. It was just as well. He finally got ON the tube and was able to get situated with only MILD abrasions. We didn't even have time to catch our breath before we saw a monstrous cyclone in the middle of our path. "IS THAT!?" I shrieked. "A WHIRLPOOl!!!" Starling yelled as he started paddling FRANTICALLY. Our paddling was POINTLESS. We started sending up PRAYERS like nobody's business. I was SQUALLING telling Starling, "I don't WANT to DIE!!! We're REALLY ARE GOING TO DIE!" And Starling, who would normally roll his eyes at my dramatic-ness, just looked at me wide eyed and yelled, "WE REALLY ARE." And then we got sucked into the edge of the whirl pool. We started spinning around the lip. I closed my eyes just KNOWING I was going to die but still praying FERVENTLY that God would forgive our stupidity and PLEASE give us a second chance. About that time, Starling slammed his tube into mine which sent me JUST out of the direct swirl and the momentum sent us spinning wildly. I yanked the cord as HARD as my adrenaline arms could tug, and Starling's tube rammed into me again. We rammed each other again and again, shouting, "JUST GET TO THE EDGE!" It took us some twenty or thirty minutes to GET to the bank. NOT exaggerating. When Starling finally caught hold of a rock and DRUG me out of the death trap, we flopped on the ground and just laid there panting and defrosting. THEN we said a heart felt prayer and promised to NEVER do anything that stupid again. Then we set off to hitch hike back to the Bronco.
We'd gone WAY farther than we'd PLANNED and had no idea where we were. BUT the asphalt was HOT HOT!! Shoeless, we high-stepped our way to a Gas Station where some dude in a feed truck took one look at our banged up appearance and hauled us back to our ride.
We enjoyed the rest of our trip enjoying the DULLness and LACK of excitement.
*loud sound- back to NOW*
THAT is when I first realized the power of guardian angels. Well NOT the first time..
*clinkling sound again*
I was young, some time before I got a drivers license. I was in Petal where my best bud Natalie and I were hanging out looking for some "EXCITEMENT." We went walking. While we were blab blabbing about what boy we thought was cute in the SEVENTH grade, we came upon an abandoned house. Well, now. THAT had excitement written on the front door! (You just couldn't SEE it through all the graffiti). Fearless and invincible, as all twelve year olds ARE, we busted up into that house with all the eagerness of a raccoon in a trash can. With NO regard to laws and such, we just made our self at home, playing detective. "Look at this place! All the letters on the ground!" We went through some of it. "THERE's some clothes in this closet!" And beds. "Wow.. I wonder if its haunted!" Natalie and I started scaring ourselves, especially when we heard noises that sounded very human. When we couldn't find the stairs, we went outside to investigate. When we turned our faces upward, a face stared down at us from a window. "AHHAHAHAHHHH!!!" We bolted down the driveway and within seconds of us getting onto the main road, a CAR turned down the driveway. WE ran ALL the WAY back to Natalie's house panting. LATER, when we told the story to our Sunday School teacher, about seeing a GHOST, he informed us we'd paid a visit to the Whore House where people gather to sell drugs and such and that we hadn't seen a ghost, but a person probably LIVING there. For some reason, that seemed much scarier than a ghost. We didn't go back.
* BACK TO NOW*
Okay... come to think of it, I have a LOT of those kind of stories. From trying to lure a ride from my Grandma's house when I was seven, just to see if I could stick out my leg like the lady in the movie I'd seen, and get someone to stop, to picking up hitch-hikers that were actually prostitutes. Yeah. I guess I'm just lucky to be alive. THANK you GUARDIAN ANGELS! (God knew I needed some angels quick on their feet, or fast with their wings...).
NOW- on to my OTHER issues. So THANK you all for your sweet "BLESS your POOR children for having you and Starling as Parents" comments. I'm afraid for them, too. We have been very blessed. I know MY guardian angel forewarned Brooklyn and Brighton's guardian angels that they have their work cut out for them. (And I'm plain scared to know what Starling's guardian angel had to say. He probably snorted and said, "He's reproduced?! Heaven help us all!!" Especially when he found out that he had a BOY. And then for toppers- when the angel said, "Lets hope he takes after his mother" and my angel said, "Ummm.. he married WENDI, remember?" I think that's when Starling's guardian angel mumbled something about being too old for this and he wants a transfer).
All this talk about guardian angels... I am brought back to a beautiful vacation Starling and I took BEFORE we had babies.
*soft tinkling music* - *fuzzy image clearing*
AH. There we are. It is a lovely summer day in mid June. The air is a perfect 85 DRY degrees. Glenwood Springs, CO has never been so full of happy laughing people scurrying around for the Strawberry Days Festival. Starling and I are giddily frolicking down hiking trails, dipping our toes in river streams, tripping and falling and dropping our camera in river streams (okay- maybe that was just ME), and eating from Starling's camping stove. We found a BEAUFIUL bridge (that was actually part of someone's driveway) to camp under. Starling laid out camping pads, covered them in a giant fluffy down comforter, and we LAY down just soaking up the moment. The rush of the mountain river a little below us sending up a cool spray that freshened the warm air. The smell of sweet olive trees dancing in the breeze. And of course the taste of... well we were kissing each other. (We'd found a camp ground near by that had open bathrooms where we'd showered and brushed our teeth). It was just PERFECT. BUT- we REALLY wanted to add some excitement to our trip. (Hiking up to Hanging Lakes with a nose bleed and some kid running DOWN the mountain shouting bear!!! wasn't exciting enough for us).
We were driving in Starling's red broncho, windows down, when we saw it. THE THRILL to top all THRILLS. The Colorado River, white topping. We looked at each other. Starling drove to a Tire Place and bought too giant tubes for $10 bucks a piece. The FIRST warning that came to us was from the person selling the tubes. "Where are ya'll going tubing?" He asked friendly enough. "The Colorado River." He choked and sputtered, "No, son! You can't TUBE down the river! You need wet suits and life jackets and a RAFTING guide! You'll freeze to death PLUS the water is BRUTAL!" Uh huh. "Thanks for the TUBES!" THEN we hopped into our swim suits and headed to our destination. Mississippi style. When we neared the water, we both felt a little trepidation. MAYBE it WILL be a LITTLE dangerous... SO we got a couple of life jackets to be on the SAFE side. FINALLY, nothing could stop us. NOT even the SECOND WARNING. As we determined how we'd hop into our tubes, a WHITE WATER RAFTING group passed us. ALL in wet suits and life jackets. The guide started shouting frantically, "NOO!! You can't TUBE IN THIS!!! You'll BE KILLED!!!" We waved back smiling. We'd been told by the life jacket rental people that the snow had just melted and the water temp was a little above freezing. Snow MELT, they called it. Well, being from the South, that just went over my head, and I paid it no mind.
Well, the water did look a bit choppy and TERRIBLY quick. "What if we get separated?" I asked. Starling thought about this and in his great wittiness, announced, "I know what we can do." He proceeded to TIE our tubes together. (With Cable Wire from the back of his Bronco). "What if we fall off our tubes?" I asked, really feeling a bit anxious now that I was close enough to hear the ROAR of the water. SO Starling tied US to our TUBES. And when the SECOND Water Rafting guide went by and told us we would HANG ourselves that way, we decided we were ready to go in. SO, carrying our tubes and wires, and LEAVING our shoes, I went first. My butt didn't even TOUCH my tube. The water slung my tube and sent me plummeting into ICE. Starling reeled me in with my cable wire AND my tube and did we give up? NO. I spat and sputtered, and teeth chattering said, "We better BOTH jump in at the same time." So we did. ANd OFF we went.
After the initial whip-lash and after our butts were numb we started enjoying ourselves. We were FLYING! "WOO HOO! This is AWESOME!!" The sun felt INCREDIBLE against the sharp (and I mean SHARP) contrast of the ice water. We were getting shot up in the air from the current and random rocks and LOVING it!
BUT. Then a HUGE boulder emerged. We tried to not slam STRAIGHT into it but we were going so fast and steering a tube has never been my strong point. At the last minute Starling FLUNG me to keep me from face planting and he went the OTHER way. Our cable wire WRAPPED around the boulder sending Starling FLYING out of his tube. Luckily, he was tied to his tube. UNFORTUNATLEY, he was tied to his tube. (Why Lucky and Unfortunate?) Well- if he wouldn't have been tied to his tube he would have just gotten swept away and 100% drowned. BUT since he was tied, the cable wire was cutting him in half. I pulled myself to him trying to untangle him but the water was ripping us apart. He was SCREAMING in pain trying to loosen up the wire and I was just... screaming. Yeah. NO water rafters came by to save us. It was just as well. He finally got ON the tube and was able to get situated with only MILD abrasions. We didn't even have time to catch our breath before we saw a monstrous cyclone in the middle of our path. "IS THAT!?" I shrieked. "A WHIRLPOOl!!!" Starling yelled as he started paddling FRANTICALLY. Our paddling was POINTLESS. We started sending up PRAYERS like nobody's business. I was SQUALLING telling Starling, "I don't WANT to DIE!!! We're REALLY ARE GOING TO DIE!" And Starling, who would normally roll his eyes at my dramatic-ness, just looked at me wide eyed and yelled, "WE REALLY ARE." And then we got sucked into the edge of the whirl pool. We started spinning around the lip. I closed my eyes just KNOWING I was going to die but still praying FERVENTLY that God would forgive our stupidity and PLEASE give us a second chance. About that time, Starling slammed his tube into mine which sent me JUST out of the direct swirl and the momentum sent us spinning wildly. I yanked the cord as HARD as my adrenaline arms could tug, and Starling's tube rammed into me again. We rammed each other again and again, shouting, "JUST GET TO THE EDGE!" It took us some twenty or thirty minutes to GET to the bank. NOT exaggerating. When Starling finally caught hold of a rock and DRUG me out of the death trap, we flopped on the ground and just laid there panting and defrosting. THEN we said a heart felt prayer and promised to NEVER do anything that stupid again. Then we set off to hitch hike back to the Bronco.
We'd gone WAY farther than we'd PLANNED and had no idea where we were. BUT the asphalt was HOT HOT!! Shoeless, we high-stepped our way to a Gas Station where some dude in a feed truck took one look at our banged up appearance and hauled us back to our ride.
We enjoyed the rest of our trip enjoying the DULLness and LACK of excitement.
*loud sound- back to NOW*
THAT is when I first realized the power of guardian angels. Well NOT the first time..
*clinkling sound again*
I was young, some time before I got a drivers license. I was in Petal where my best bud Natalie and I were hanging out looking for some "EXCITEMENT." We went walking. While we were blab blabbing about what boy we thought was cute in the SEVENTH grade, we came upon an abandoned house. Well, now. THAT had excitement written on the front door! (You just couldn't SEE it through all the graffiti). Fearless and invincible, as all twelve year olds ARE, we busted up into that house with all the eagerness of a raccoon in a trash can. With NO regard to laws and such, we just made our self at home, playing detective. "Look at this place! All the letters on the ground!" We went through some of it. "THERE's some clothes in this closet!" And beds. "Wow.. I wonder if its haunted!" Natalie and I started scaring ourselves, especially when we heard noises that sounded very human. When we couldn't find the stairs, we went outside to investigate. When we turned our faces upward, a face stared down at us from a window. "AHHAHAHAHHHH!!!" We bolted down the driveway and within seconds of us getting onto the main road, a CAR turned down the driveway. WE ran ALL the WAY back to Natalie's house panting. LATER, when we told the story to our Sunday School teacher, about seeing a GHOST, he informed us we'd paid a visit to the Whore House where people gather to sell drugs and such and that we hadn't seen a ghost, but a person probably LIVING there. For some reason, that seemed much scarier than a ghost. We didn't go back.
* BACK TO NOW*
Okay... come to think of it, I have a LOT of those kind of stories. From trying to lure a ride from my Grandma's house when I was seven, just to see if I could stick out my leg like the lady in the movie I'd seen, and get someone to stop, to picking up hitch-hikers that were actually prostitutes. Yeah. I guess I'm just lucky to be alive. THANK you GUARDIAN ANGELS! (God knew I needed some angels quick on their feet, or fast with their wings...).
Tuesday, October 18, 2011
Brooklyn two years 5 months
Dear Brooklyn,
Since I haven't written in your baby book since this time... TWO years ago... I thought it is time I should update you on... well... YOU. Today you are two years and five months old. (EASY for me to know since Brighton just turned five months and ya'll are two days apart). You keep me young AND make me gray (not that I'll actually ever know when a gray hair comes in since I dye my hair dark brown... but I can just FEEL it happening).
I could write a BOOK on you DAILY because you never stop talking, singing, dancing, and yelling, "MOMM-MMAAY!!" (And I mean that. You never stop. NOT even when you are sleeping. You sleep talk. AND I would know since you STILL sleep in my bed). So I'm really trying to narrow down my thoughts to the essentials.
When you are all big and THREE, you'll probably be interested in knowing when you were potty trained. WELL... You are Potty Trained NOW... but I supposed its been about a month with no "ax-ta-dents." You've been out of diapers since before you turned two... but you were pretty much using your panties AS diapers and I felt like I had an extra puppy in the house. (I even contemplated sticking your nose in your pee a couple of times.. BUT I didn't). I guess you just decided to be done peeing in your panties one day. I don't know if it had anything to do with me making YOU clean up your pee (by putting a paper towel on the floor and using your BARE hands to mop it up to your utter chagrin and HORROR) OR Daddy's method: bribary. EVERY time you peed in the potty you got a CHOCOLATE. AND even now that you are POTTY trained and pee in the toilet some SIXTEEN times a DAY, you say, "OH! I need to go potty and get a kitty-kat!!" which means you want a kit-kat and you know if you go drip a few urine drops in the toilet, your Daddy HAS to give you one because it is the rule HE set. (AGAINST my better judgement). BUT- you don't expect me to give you one. Its funny how you just KNOW Daddy is a sucker. As soon as he walks in the door from work you RUN up and say, "OH DADDY! I pee pee in the potty and get a kitty kat!!!" Sorry I didn't write down the EXACT day you were trained... BUT in my defense- I thought you were potty trained like a hundred times and then you'd just start marking your territory like a dog again. AND you were bush-trained before you were "potty" trained and so I didn't know if that counted or not. You still enjoy peeing outside more than inside BUT your daddy is mortified by his daughter stripping down to her birthday suit and running outside to pee in a bush in front of the neighbors. Eh. It doesn't bother me any.
MOVIES: Your favorite movies right now are Pinochio, Robin Hood, and Jungle Book. Those just HAPPEN to be your DADDY's favorite movies right now, too... (funny how THAT works, huh?) You still watch exorbitant amounts of Dora and Diego, Gabba Gabba, and Barney, and some Your Baby Can Read, but those couple Disney Movies are your FAVS. You sing the songs of Pinochio NON-STOP. AND it is ADORABLE. You walk around saying, "I'm a REAL BOY!" and I have to remind you that even though you DO pee on bushes, you are ACTUALLY a girl.
FOOD: Your favorite foods include, but are not limited to: Spagetti O's, eggs, green beans, tomatoes, cornbread, pretzels, and CANDY. AND your favorite BEVERAGE is CHOCOLATE MILK. You'll eat just about anything, save it be CORN (MY favorite food), but pretty much every morning when I say, "Are you hungry?" You say, "MOM! I'm so hungry, I need some sPa-getti-os!" and for lunch. AND for dinner. AND since I CAN'T cook... you don't get told NO too often when you'd prefer something from a can. Some times at night you'll say, "Mommy... I jus want some beans." AND you will eat green beans out of a can. NO LIE. Last night I made cornbread to go with some INTERESTING concoction from the crock-pot... beef stew. ish. ANYWAY- you sat on the counter and ate cornbread until every crease on your body had crumbs in it... when I pulled down your panties for you to go pee- CORNBREAD crumbs were flopping everywhere.
When I eat a sandwich you ALWAYS ask for my tomato. You eat it plain. AND you still drink chocolate milk like a camel drinks water. LIKE you are stocking up for a walk in the desert. You HAVE to have it every night before you go to bed and you always say, "MOMMY... can you feed it to me?" Even though you are little Miss Independant, you still want to be the baby in a lot of ways.
Tantrums: The Years of the TWO are known for the tantrums. FAMOUS Terrible TWOS! So are you terrible? Well- not in comparison to ME as a child (I think I was referred to by your grandparents as Satan's spawn), I suppose, but you DEFINITELY have your MOMENTS. (And those momments are the reason for the GRAYS I refered to earlier). For MOST of the day you are the SWEETEST most ADORABLe child walking around in human form. BUT. RIGHT around nap time, OR when you wake up from a LATE nap, the WHINEY attacks you and nabs your Big Girl voice. And its WRETCHED. You stand in one spot bouncing up and down like a restricted Tigger chanting, "I want Mommy, I want Mommy, I want Mommy" without taking a breath. And when I say, "Okay... I'm right here," you go to high stepping (still in one spot) and chanting louder and faster. I can sit RIGHT in front of you and hold out my arms. Your arms, which are straight out to be held, do not MOVE. You won't walk forward. You won't TALK. You won't COME when I do my normal countdown. Its like you are in a TRANCE WHILE standing on a magnetic forefield that restricts your movement. I've spanked you. I've put you in time out. BUT, like me when I was your age (and before and after your age)you can carry on indefinitely. ALL night. OR I can just pick you up and get you distracted and you somehow will get HAPPY again and announce gleefully, "MOMMY!! I found my BIG GIRL VOICE!! THAT makes me giggle!" and you will proceed to giggle and chirp like a spring blue bird learning to fly. Its the darndest thing. Daddy and I just look at each other and inwardly say to each others brains, "Coo-coo!" Hmm. When I write it out, it seems like I would avoid the hour of earth shattering SCREAMING that comes from putting you time-out and just distract you in the beginning. Its a pride thing. I need to work on that.
CHATTER BOX: Some of my FAVORITE things you say is, "Mommay! Can I please have a Peanut Butter and Jelly and a Sandwich?!" And, "Mommy! What are you doing? Are you going PEE PEE in tha potty? Oh that's a great job, Mommy! That's just great!" AND "You think so, I can get a jelly rancher?" (jolly rancher) "You think so, Boston is coming to my house to play with me today?", "Mommy! I need to color... Let me get my stoop!" (which means you want the HIGHLIGHTERS from the drawer you are NOT supposed to go snooping in and you need your stool to reach.
We had dinner with the missionaries and Daddy was yapping about Pinnochio. He quoted, "You see that guy over there? That's temptation." And before he could finish, "Oh NO, Gemini, that's Honest JOHn!" you cut in. "NO Daddy... You JUST need a LITTLE bit of Patience. Just a little patience." And you had your little finger pointed at him. AND you mimicked me to a tee. (I say that phrase to you about a thousand times a day as you ask for chocolate milk. You manage to ask four or five times between my arm reaching for the fridge and the fridge door opening). You tell us, yourself, Charkley, and your Barbies to have "patience."
You also say, EVERYTIME something goes awry, "WHAT are you KIDDING me!" (instead of You've GOT to be KIDDING me- WHICH I say- a LOT).
Several things have interesting names when translated into your verbage. My eyes bulged out of my head when you started singing, "There's some CRAPS. I found a Red Crap." and then, "Mommy where's the crap go?" I've learned to figure out WHAT you are talking about before I chastise and tell you that we do NOT SAY CRAP! (except we DO of course... EVERYtime I want to shout something worse- the word CRAP riverbrates through the house. Like when I drop the bag of flour and the whole kitchen turns white, or I walk SLAM INto a doorway instead of THROUGH the doorway....). ANYWAY- come to find OUT- You call CRABS, craps. AND everytime we read a book that has a crab in it (which is in more books than you'd think- practically every book depicting a beach) you say, "CRAP! There's a crap!"
You say, "What is tha heck?" when you get frustrated and confused usually trying to untangle something that you shouldn't have tangled in the first place. (LiKE the pully on the blinds or the computer cords).
The Magnolia cone things that look similar to pine combs are MICROPHONES. AND when you announce that it is time to go ride in that wagon, we FIRST have to grab a couple microphones off the ground so we can sing in them at the top of our lungs WHILE walking through the neighborhood. (I try to take you walking when most neighbors are at work, but INEVITABLY SOMEONE will ALWAYS be on their porch).
Attitude: It is hilARIOUS to see your little personality blooming and how you interact with others. You have a NEW facial expression that I can only describe as a Teenager Face... Its an expression of total ATTITUDE, not disrespectful but... kind of like a "DUH- MOM- REALLY? You're telling me that AGAIN?" And you do it when 'I' do something you think is really DUMB. You make the expression and say something like, "Mommy? Did you make a mess in my room?" (and I had to say, "yeh.. sorry.." because I had $108 dollars worth of tull scattered ALL over your room AND ribbon...(not included in the $108 I've given to Hobby Lobby) because I've been busily making tu tu's. or "Mommy, why you taked that taped measure away from ME?" (except you say it with more attitude and instead of me you say MAE). You are full of repetition. "Mommy, I am sharing with Bry Bry because its so nice to share." "Mommy! I be nice to Taelyn because Taelyn is my FRIEND." "Brooklyn, you don't cry, okay? Jus.. Jus lets be happy!"
Manners: You say Please ("Mommy can you please wash my hands.") , Thank You so MUCH, You're so Welcome, You're so SWEET Mommy!, You're so CUTE, Daddy!, I LOVE you little Chunkter MAN!(to Bry Bry) at least ten times a day. You also say things like, "OH YOU BROUGHT me a SURPRISE?!?! THANK YOU SOOOOOOOOOO MUCH!! I LOOOOOVE IT!!!" (That was the reaction I got yesterday when I brought you donuts for breakfast). And when Daddy and I recieve a gift from you- (either a colored picture, a piece of paper you've folded into a 'letter,' or the present box that is in your toys that you put random toys in and give to us repeatedly) and we say, "OH THANK YOU, BROOKLYN! THAT is SOOO SWEET!!" you GLOW with happiness and say, "OH MOMMY! (or Daddy) You are SOOO WELCOME! I LOVE YOu! I'm jus so HAPPY!" and when people tell you that you are so cute, you shyly say, "Yeah..." (We're working on THAT). Today I told you that you are beautiful and you said in your 'silly voice', "NO I'm NO-yot! I'm BROOK-LYN!"
SISTER: As a sister, you are INCREDIBLE! Brighton could NOT ask for a better one. You kiss him, love him, tell him he is SO cute, SO sweet, make him laugh, fetch him toys, burp rags, etc. You sing to him, you run to him when he makes any noise yelling, "OH MOMMY! It sounds like Bry Bry! He's in trouble! I haf to rescue him!!" And off you go! You ask to hold him and you'll sing to him for the WHOLE 45 seconds he's on your lap, THEN you'll grunt, "OKAY, MOMMy! I'm ALL done holding BRY BRY!" (He's as big as you are and feels HEAVIER)!
FRIENDS:You LOVE your friends. Some of your favorite friends right now are Boston, Layla, Alayna, Colton, Sarah, Jayden, and Taelyn. I'm sure I'm leaving some out but those are some of the kids you've played with in the last week. Yesterday Boston and you were sitting at the counter eating spagetti-o's and you looked over at him and said, "Boston, what are you gonna marry?" (Yeh. WHAT not WHO). He said, "YOU." You beamed from ear to ear and started giggling like a hyped up hyena. "And I'm gonna MARRY you in THE TEMPLE." He added.
ANIMALS: You ADORE animals. (You aren't as nice to them as Boston is- but you WANT to be..). You really liked Frankie's pet rat so I got you a rabbit. Cleo and you were the best of friends and you'd sit in the laundry room holding her and singing to her, sticking stickers on her house (aka my Laundry Basket), and feeding her carrots and apples. You surely loved her. AND then I let her outside to play and she got attacked by a cat. THEN you nursed her and were so soft to her for a whole week until she died. (Lucky for you, you were at your MIA's house and MISSED your blubbering, sobbing, guilt ridden mother watching the rabbit die). When you came home and went to looking for her, I had to tell you the bad news. "You know how Cleo was so sick?" You nodded. "WELL, she just got so sick that she went to live with Jesus so that He could make her all better. And she isn't sick anymore! Now she's hopping around with Jesus!" You nodded and smiled. "She's with JESUS!" and then you paused, "Well, but I don't want her to live with Jesus. I want her to live in my laundry room." So DADDY explained it to you. "Uh... maybe Jesus will give you another bunny." THANKS DADDY. So I took you looking for one at the pet store. They had two big ones that TORE me UP with their kicking and toe nails. I decided Cleo was one of a kind. AND I just didn't know what I'd do if I got another inside bunny and it wasn't perfect like our Cleo. LUCKILY you didn't care for the bunnies either. You said, "Um... We just need to find a bunny like Cleo. Those are nice BUNNY PIGS!" (Guinnie pigs). Yeah. Not happening. So I took you to your Aunt Nita's to play with her Bunnies, Cats, and Chickens. She offered you a bunny AND a kitten, but I didn't fold... (even though I would've if she would've pushed any harder). I wanted to talk to your Daddy about it first. NOW, everytime we walk into the laundry room OR you see a bunny on a cartoon, you say, "Cleo is jus with Hebenly Father and Jesus. But Mommy, we jus need to find a bunny like Cleo."
You are taking a bigger interest in our cat and Charkley. The cat scratches (trying to play, but she's pretty rough) so you only pet her until she grabs your arm. THEN your done. CHARKLEY and you are pretty close. You throw him his ball, play chase, and hug on him. You also like to share your snacks with him. You always grab him and start giggling and say something about, "Charkley wants to play freeze." I don't have a CLUE what game that IS, but Charkley dOES NOT like it.
Today you held a lizard for a long time while you rode in the wagon. You wanted to bring it inside to live with you. AND when I FINALLY pried it out of your fingers it was BARELY breathing. LITTLE squeezer, you are. THAT's why I'm worried about getting you another rabbit... They are so FRAGILe... of course most things that get attacked by a ravenous CAT would get hurt... but still...
SPORTS: You REALLY like sports. You ALWAYS want to go watch your Daddy play Tennis, baseball, Volleyball, etc. You even like Football games. You, of course, always want to play TOO, and so I get to be the mean guy that says, "Sorry, honey... you have to stay OFF the court (or field)." AND then I get to play whatever sport on the side lines with you. You like cheering at the football games with whatever pom poms you can find laying around.
BARBIES: I've waited FOREVER for you to be big enough to play with barbies. (I LOVED them when I was younger). So I brought you some home from Mia's house. You play with the GI Joe dude and two of the boy dolls. Of course. OCCASSIONALLY you'll play with a couple of the little girl ones. Last time I walked in THIS is what I see: You holding GI Joe Barbie talking in a Man Voice (which sounds like a scratchy constipated grunt) saying, "Stop crying or you hafta go to time out" and the little blond headed Kelly doll (about 2 years old I'd say) says, VERY whiney, "Nooo." AND so she got dumped in time out, WHICH is the little crib. (I am about to KILL OVER- in silence of course- because you are mimicking your Daddy perfectly- good to know you see him as a GI Joe instead of a Ken Doll-HILARIOUSLY incorrect, but good to know). What does the little girl do? OH she stars BOUNCING up and down like a toy on a spring chanting, "I want Daddy, I want Daddy, I want Daddy." AND what does the Daddy do? He grunts very softly (Starling doesn't grunt by the way... BUT Brooklyn has a hard time talking manly and human at the same time) "Can you stop crying? Say, Yes Sir." The baby said Yes Sir in whisper form and the Daddy picked her up and said, "You wanna play the guit-TAR?!" AND, in your squeaky baby voice, you said, "YE-EAH!! I found my big girl voice!" I TOTALLY know now why Child Play Therapy is so telling. Although you mostly play with the Daddy and NOT a MOMMY even though I am the one with you ALL day EVERY day. HMPH.
LOVED: You should know that you are the MOST love TWO year old on Earth. Daddy and I say the same thing EVERY night: "How did we get so blessed? We are so lucky to have SUCH sweet kids." And Daddy says, "Brooklyn is the cutest thing." "Brooklyn is so adorable." "Brooklyn is precious." From the time he walks in from work from the time we go to BED, from the time you WAKE up in the middle of the night sleep talking and or screaming, to the time he leaves in the morning. You have a Mi Mi and Pa Paw, a Mia and Pi Paw, a Maw Maw and Paw Paw, and a Grandma Rosie that LOVE and ADORE you plus all the rest of your family, aunts, uncles, cousins, and church family. One of your nursery leaders, Sister McLaine, told me that you are such a leader. She said you sweetly lead others without being bossy. ((Now 'I' have seen you be bossy! But I'm glad to know you can be very sweet when I'm not around). She told me that you say, "How bout we sing ASHEES ASHEES!" and that all the kids excitedly joined hands to do Ring Around the Rosies. That makes a Ma Ma proud! And for the most part, you are VERY nice and sweet to others. (Every now and again that two year old tantrum will come out, but we're all understanding of THAT. Mommy throws worse tantrums than YOU ever have)! We are SOOO glad to have you in our family and SOOO thankful that we have been sealed to you for Time and Eternity. I would NEVER EVER want to be without my Brook Brook!
LOVE,
Mommy
Since I haven't written in your baby book since this time... TWO years ago... I thought it is time I should update you on... well... YOU. Today you are two years and five months old. (EASY for me to know since Brighton just turned five months and ya'll are two days apart). You keep me young AND make me gray (not that I'll actually ever know when a gray hair comes in since I dye my hair dark brown... but I can just FEEL it happening).
I could write a BOOK on you DAILY because you never stop talking, singing, dancing, and yelling, "MOMM-MMAAY!!" (And I mean that. You never stop. NOT even when you are sleeping. You sleep talk. AND I would know since you STILL sleep in my bed). So I'm really trying to narrow down my thoughts to the essentials.
When you are all big and THREE, you'll probably be interested in knowing when you were potty trained. WELL... You are Potty Trained NOW... but I supposed its been about a month with no "ax-ta-dents." You've been out of diapers since before you turned two... but you were pretty much using your panties AS diapers and I felt like I had an extra puppy in the house. (I even contemplated sticking your nose in your pee a couple of times.. BUT I didn't). I guess you just decided to be done peeing in your panties one day. I don't know if it had anything to do with me making YOU clean up your pee (by putting a paper towel on the floor and using your BARE hands to mop it up to your utter chagrin and HORROR) OR Daddy's method: bribary. EVERY time you peed in the potty you got a CHOCOLATE. AND even now that you are POTTY trained and pee in the toilet some SIXTEEN times a DAY, you say, "OH! I need to go potty and get a kitty-kat!!" which means you want a kit-kat and you know if you go drip a few urine drops in the toilet, your Daddy HAS to give you one because it is the rule HE set. (AGAINST my better judgement). BUT- you don't expect me to give you one. Its funny how you just KNOW Daddy is a sucker. As soon as he walks in the door from work you RUN up and say, "OH DADDY! I pee pee in the potty and get a kitty kat!!!" Sorry I didn't write down the EXACT day you were trained... BUT in my defense- I thought you were potty trained like a hundred times and then you'd just start marking your territory like a dog again. AND you were bush-trained before you were "potty" trained and so I didn't know if that counted or not. You still enjoy peeing outside more than inside BUT your daddy is mortified by his daughter stripping down to her birthday suit and running outside to pee in a bush in front of the neighbors. Eh. It doesn't bother me any.
MOVIES: Your favorite movies right now are Pinochio, Robin Hood, and Jungle Book. Those just HAPPEN to be your DADDY's favorite movies right now, too... (funny how THAT works, huh?) You still watch exorbitant amounts of Dora and Diego, Gabba Gabba, and Barney, and some Your Baby Can Read, but those couple Disney Movies are your FAVS. You sing the songs of Pinochio NON-STOP. AND it is ADORABLE. You walk around saying, "I'm a REAL BOY!" and I have to remind you that even though you DO pee on bushes, you are ACTUALLY a girl.
FOOD: Your favorite foods include, but are not limited to: Spagetti O's, eggs, green beans, tomatoes, cornbread, pretzels, and CANDY. AND your favorite BEVERAGE is CHOCOLATE MILK. You'll eat just about anything, save it be CORN (MY favorite food), but pretty much every morning when I say, "Are you hungry?" You say, "MOM! I'm so hungry, I need some sPa-getti-os!" and for lunch. AND for dinner. AND since I CAN'T cook... you don't get told NO too often when you'd prefer something from a can. Some times at night you'll say, "Mommy... I jus want some beans." AND you will eat green beans out of a can. NO LIE. Last night I made cornbread to go with some INTERESTING concoction from the crock-pot... beef stew. ish. ANYWAY- you sat on the counter and ate cornbread until every crease on your body had crumbs in it... when I pulled down your panties for you to go pee- CORNBREAD crumbs were flopping everywhere.
When I eat a sandwich you ALWAYS ask for my tomato. You eat it plain. AND you still drink chocolate milk like a camel drinks water. LIKE you are stocking up for a walk in the desert. You HAVE to have it every night before you go to bed and you always say, "MOMMY... can you feed it to me?" Even though you are little Miss Independant, you still want to be the baby in a lot of ways.
Tantrums: The Years of the TWO are known for the tantrums. FAMOUS Terrible TWOS! So are you terrible? Well- not in comparison to ME as a child (I think I was referred to by your grandparents as Satan's spawn), I suppose, but you DEFINITELY have your MOMENTS. (And those momments are the reason for the GRAYS I refered to earlier). For MOST of the day you are the SWEETEST most ADORABLe child walking around in human form. BUT. RIGHT around nap time, OR when you wake up from a LATE nap, the WHINEY attacks you and nabs your Big Girl voice. And its WRETCHED. You stand in one spot bouncing up and down like a restricted Tigger chanting, "I want Mommy, I want Mommy, I want Mommy" without taking a breath. And when I say, "Okay... I'm right here," you go to high stepping (still in one spot) and chanting louder and faster. I can sit RIGHT in front of you and hold out my arms. Your arms, which are straight out to be held, do not MOVE. You won't walk forward. You won't TALK. You won't COME when I do my normal countdown. Its like you are in a TRANCE WHILE standing on a magnetic forefield that restricts your movement. I've spanked you. I've put you in time out. BUT, like me when I was your age (and before and after your age)you can carry on indefinitely. ALL night. OR I can just pick you up and get you distracted and you somehow will get HAPPY again and announce gleefully, "MOMMY!! I found my BIG GIRL VOICE!! THAT makes me giggle!" and you will proceed to giggle and chirp like a spring blue bird learning to fly. Its the darndest thing. Daddy and I just look at each other and inwardly say to each others brains, "Coo-coo!" Hmm. When I write it out, it seems like I would avoid the hour of earth shattering SCREAMING that comes from putting you time-out and just distract you in the beginning. Its a pride thing. I need to work on that.
CHATTER BOX: Some of my FAVORITE things you say is, "Mommay! Can I please have a Peanut Butter and Jelly and a Sandwich?!" And, "Mommy! What are you doing? Are you going PEE PEE in tha potty? Oh that's a great job, Mommy! That's just great!" AND "You think so, I can get a jelly rancher?" (jolly rancher) "You think so, Boston is coming to my house to play with me today?", "Mommy! I need to color... Let me get my stoop!" (which means you want the HIGHLIGHTERS from the drawer you are NOT supposed to go snooping in and you need your stool to reach.
We had dinner with the missionaries and Daddy was yapping about Pinnochio. He quoted, "You see that guy over there? That's temptation." And before he could finish, "Oh NO, Gemini, that's Honest JOHn!" you cut in. "NO Daddy... You JUST need a LITTLE bit of Patience. Just a little patience." And you had your little finger pointed at him. AND you mimicked me to a tee. (I say that phrase to you about a thousand times a day as you ask for chocolate milk. You manage to ask four or five times between my arm reaching for the fridge and the fridge door opening). You tell us, yourself, Charkley, and your Barbies to have "patience."
You also say, EVERYTIME something goes awry, "WHAT are you KIDDING me!" (instead of You've GOT to be KIDDING me- WHICH I say- a LOT).
Several things have interesting names when translated into your verbage. My eyes bulged out of my head when you started singing, "There's some CRAPS. I found a Red Crap." and then, "Mommy where's the crap go?" I've learned to figure out WHAT you are talking about before I chastise and tell you that we do NOT SAY CRAP! (except we DO of course... EVERYtime I want to shout something worse- the word CRAP riverbrates through the house. Like when I drop the bag of flour and the whole kitchen turns white, or I walk SLAM INto a doorway instead of THROUGH the doorway....). ANYWAY- come to find OUT- You call CRABS, craps. AND everytime we read a book that has a crab in it (which is in more books than you'd think- practically every book depicting a beach) you say, "CRAP! There's a crap!"
You say, "What is tha heck?" when you get frustrated and confused usually trying to untangle something that you shouldn't have tangled in the first place. (LiKE the pully on the blinds or the computer cords).
The Magnolia cone things that look similar to pine combs are MICROPHONES. AND when you announce that it is time to go ride in that wagon, we FIRST have to grab a couple microphones off the ground so we can sing in them at the top of our lungs WHILE walking through the neighborhood. (I try to take you walking when most neighbors are at work, but INEVITABLY SOMEONE will ALWAYS be on their porch).
Attitude: It is hilARIOUS to see your little personality blooming and how you interact with others. You have a NEW facial expression that I can only describe as a Teenager Face... Its an expression of total ATTITUDE, not disrespectful but... kind of like a "DUH- MOM- REALLY? You're telling me that AGAIN?" And you do it when 'I' do something you think is really DUMB. You make the expression and say something like, "Mommy? Did you make a mess in my room?" (and I had to say, "yeh.. sorry.." because I had $108 dollars worth of tull scattered ALL over your room AND ribbon...(not included in the $108 I've given to Hobby Lobby) because I've been busily making tu tu's. or "Mommy, why you taked that taped measure away from ME?" (except you say it with more attitude and instead of me you say MAE). You are full of repetition. "Mommy, I am sharing with Bry Bry because its so nice to share." "Mommy! I be nice to Taelyn because Taelyn is my FRIEND." "Brooklyn, you don't cry, okay? Jus.. Jus lets be happy!"
Manners: You say Please ("Mommy can you please wash my hands.") , Thank You so MUCH, You're so Welcome, You're so SWEET Mommy!, You're so CUTE, Daddy!, I LOVE you little Chunkter MAN!(to Bry Bry) at least ten times a day. You also say things like, "OH YOU BROUGHT me a SURPRISE?!?! THANK YOU SOOOOOOOOOO MUCH!! I LOOOOOVE IT!!!" (That was the reaction I got yesterday when I brought you donuts for breakfast). And when Daddy and I recieve a gift from you- (either a colored picture, a piece of paper you've folded into a 'letter,' or the present box that is in your toys that you put random toys in and give to us repeatedly) and we say, "OH THANK YOU, BROOKLYN! THAT is SOOO SWEET!!" you GLOW with happiness and say, "OH MOMMY! (or Daddy) You are SOOO WELCOME! I LOVE YOu! I'm jus so HAPPY!" and when people tell you that you are so cute, you shyly say, "Yeah..." (We're working on THAT). Today I told you that you are beautiful and you said in your 'silly voice', "NO I'm NO-yot! I'm BROOK-LYN!"
SISTER: As a sister, you are INCREDIBLE! Brighton could NOT ask for a better one. You kiss him, love him, tell him he is SO cute, SO sweet, make him laugh, fetch him toys, burp rags, etc. You sing to him, you run to him when he makes any noise yelling, "OH MOMMY! It sounds like Bry Bry! He's in trouble! I haf to rescue him!!" And off you go! You ask to hold him and you'll sing to him for the WHOLE 45 seconds he's on your lap, THEN you'll grunt, "OKAY, MOMMy! I'm ALL done holding BRY BRY!" (He's as big as you are and feels HEAVIER)!
FRIENDS:You LOVE your friends. Some of your favorite friends right now are Boston, Layla, Alayna, Colton, Sarah, Jayden, and Taelyn. I'm sure I'm leaving some out but those are some of the kids you've played with in the last week. Yesterday Boston and you were sitting at the counter eating spagetti-o's and you looked over at him and said, "Boston, what are you gonna marry?" (Yeh. WHAT not WHO). He said, "YOU." You beamed from ear to ear and started giggling like a hyped up hyena. "And I'm gonna MARRY you in THE TEMPLE." He added.
ANIMALS: You ADORE animals. (You aren't as nice to them as Boston is- but you WANT to be..). You really liked Frankie's pet rat so I got you a rabbit. Cleo and you were the best of friends and you'd sit in the laundry room holding her and singing to her, sticking stickers on her house (aka my Laundry Basket), and feeding her carrots and apples. You surely loved her. AND then I let her outside to play and she got attacked by a cat. THEN you nursed her and were so soft to her for a whole week until she died. (Lucky for you, you were at your MIA's house and MISSED your blubbering, sobbing, guilt ridden mother watching the rabbit die). When you came home and went to looking for her, I had to tell you the bad news. "You know how Cleo was so sick?" You nodded. "WELL, she just got so sick that she went to live with Jesus so that He could make her all better. And she isn't sick anymore! Now she's hopping around with Jesus!" You nodded and smiled. "She's with JESUS!" and then you paused, "Well, but I don't want her to live with Jesus. I want her to live in my laundry room." So DADDY explained it to you. "Uh... maybe Jesus will give you another bunny." THANKS DADDY. So I took you looking for one at the pet store. They had two big ones that TORE me UP with their kicking and toe nails. I decided Cleo was one of a kind. AND I just didn't know what I'd do if I got another inside bunny and it wasn't perfect like our Cleo. LUCKILY you didn't care for the bunnies either. You said, "Um... We just need to find a bunny like Cleo. Those are nice BUNNY PIGS!" (Guinnie pigs). Yeah. Not happening. So I took you to your Aunt Nita's to play with her Bunnies, Cats, and Chickens. She offered you a bunny AND a kitten, but I didn't fold... (even though I would've if she would've pushed any harder). I wanted to talk to your Daddy about it first. NOW, everytime we walk into the laundry room OR you see a bunny on a cartoon, you say, "Cleo is jus with Hebenly Father and Jesus. But Mommy, we jus need to find a bunny like Cleo."
You are taking a bigger interest in our cat and Charkley. The cat scratches (trying to play, but she's pretty rough) so you only pet her until she grabs your arm. THEN your done. CHARKLEY and you are pretty close. You throw him his ball, play chase, and hug on him. You also like to share your snacks with him. You always grab him and start giggling and say something about, "Charkley wants to play freeze." I don't have a CLUE what game that IS, but Charkley dOES NOT like it.
Today you held a lizard for a long time while you rode in the wagon. You wanted to bring it inside to live with you. AND when I FINALLY pried it out of your fingers it was BARELY breathing. LITTLE squeezer, you are. THAT's why I'm worried about getting you another rabbit... They are so FRAGILe... of course most things that get attacked by a ravenous CAT would get hurt... but still...
SPORTS: You REALLY like sports. You ALWAYS want to go watch your Daddy play Tennis, baseball, Volleyball, etc. You even like Football games. You, of course, always want to play TOO, and so I get to be the mean guy that says, "Sorry, honey... you have to stay OFF the court (or field)." AND then I get to play whatever sport on the side lines with you. You like cheering at the football games with whatever pom poms you can find laying around.
BARBIES: I've waited FOREVER for you to be big enough to play with barbies. (I LOVED them when I was younger). So I brought you some home from Mia's house. You play with the GI Joe dude and two of the boy dolls. Of course. OCCASSIONALLY you'll play with a couple of the little girl ones. Last time I walked in THIS is what I see: You holding GI Joe Barbie talking in a Man Voice (which sounds like a scratchy constipated grunt) saying, "Stop crying or you hafta go to time out" and the little blond headed Kelly doll (about 2 years old I'd say) says, VERY whiney, "Nooo." AND so she got dumped in time out, WHICH is the little crib. (I am about to KILL OVER- in silence of course- because you are mimicking your Daddy perfectly- good to know you see him as a GI Joe instead of a Ken Doll-HILARIOUSLY incorrect, but good to know). What does the little girl do? OH she stars BOUNCING up and down like a toy on a spring chanting, "I want Daddy, I want Daddy, I want Daddy." AND what does the Daddy do? He grunts very softly (Starling doesn't grunt by the way... BUT Brooklyn has a hard time talking manly and human at the same time) "Can you stop crying? Say, Yes Sir." The baby said Yes Sir in whisper form and the Daddy picked her up and said, "You wanna play the guit-TAR?!" AND, in your squeaky baby voice, you said, "YE-EAH!! I found my big girl voice!" I TOTALLY know now why Child Play Therapy is so telling. Although you mostly play with the Daddy and NOT a MOMMY even though I am the one with you ALL day EVERY day. HMPH.
LOVED: You should know that you are the MOST love TWO year old on Earth. Daddy and I say the same thing EVERY night: "How did we get so blessed? We are so lucky to have SUCH sweet kids." And Daddy says, "Brooklyn is the cutest thing." "Brooklyn is so adorable." "Brooklyn is precious." From the time he walks in from work from the time we go to BED, from the time you WAKE up in the middle of the night sleep talking and or screaming, to the time he leaves in the morning. You have a Mi Mi and Pa Paw, a Mia and Pi Paw, a Maw Maw and Paw Paw, and a Grandma Rosie that LOVE and ADORE you plus all the rest of your family, aunts, uncles, cousins, and church family. One of your nursery leaders, Sister McLaine, told me that you are such a leader. She said you sweetly lead others without being bossy. ((Now 'I' have seen you be bossy! But I'm glad to know you can be very sweet when I'm not around). She told me that you say, "How bout we sing ASHEES ASHEES!" and that all the kids excitedly joined hands to do Ring Around the Rosies. That makes a Ma Ma proud! And for the most part, you are VERY nice and sweet to others. (Every now and again that two year old tantrum will come out, but we're all understanding of THAT. Mommy throws worse tantrums than YOU ever have)! We are SOOO glad to have you in our family and SOOO thankful that we have been sealed to you for Time and Eternity. I would NEVER EVER want to be without my Brook Brook!
LOVE,
Mommy
Wednesday, October 5, 2011
Poor Cleo... Poor Bry Bry... What a day!
I signed up to feed the missionaries. I know they probably wish I wouldn't BOTHER since my cooking is about as appetizing as watching a fly land on the raw meat you just purchased. BUT- none the less- I’m greedy for those BLESSINGS that come to those that serve.. SO I just keep signing up MONTH after Month… MY dish- Red Beans and Rice. New Orleans Style… I did my research. I picked a recipe that had a mouth watering picture. I soaked the red beans overnight. I went to Wal Mart to pick up all the ingredients.
Internal Monologue: What in the heck is a HAMHOCK? I didn’t see anything in the pig section of Wal Marts freezer food labeled hamhock. Oh well… probably not too important. SKIP. What the heck is liquid smoke?? Eh… SKIP. What is corn flour? Hmmm I’ll just mix flour and corn mill. That’ll be corn flour right? So…SKIP. AH! Something I RECOGNIZE! 4 cloves of garlic? Ok… Here are four garlics. Wait… is that garlic or white onions? OH! Good thing I checked… Hmm garlic… THERE in the BOXES- I need four- this doesn’t say cloves… oh well. CHECK. I selected the rest of the ingredients I RECOGNIZED… which was basically the onion, bell pepper, and spicey sausage.
WHILE I was at Wal Mart at 10pm with BOTH my little darlings, I wanted to see if BY CHANCE Wal Mart had ANY INCREDIBLY BRIGHT hot pink, green, bright blues, poppin orange fabrics! (I’m trying to liven up Brooklyn’s room now that she’s not a baby anymore. She’s TWO). I’d ALREADY hauled my kiddos to both Hancock Fabrics and Hobby Lobby and found NOTHING that hit the spot. I did find a couple that I could SETTLE for… but at 9.00/yrd (when I need like 25 yards) I wanted to be sewing GOLD. (That’s a good one… SEWING. I have no idea how to sew… This is just part of my motivation to LEARN). Well I looked with fingers crossed. (Well kind of, more like sideways looped inside of a Brighton’s drooling mouth). While Bry Bry chewed my finger down to the bone (like it was actually beginning to THROB), Brooklyn danced through the fabrics singing, “I love THIS ONE the mo-o-st…. it is so beautiful-ll-ll….” To very um… NOT beautiful fabrics. Seriously. NOTHING that I’d imagined in my most vivid dreams. NOT even REMOTELY similar. SOOOOOOO, totally bummed I snatched a whole role of soft, princess pink, silky slinky mess on the clearance rack for $1.50/yrd and tried to locate a worker to measure it for me. The ladies who work the sewing department had long gone but I saw a chic with a “Can I help you” vest, and I bolted after her. She turned, saw me, and- since she was hittin the gossip like sauce- on her CELLULAR DEVICE, she pretended she DIDn’T see me and darted three aisles over. Seriously! Its not like I could run her DOWN to CATCH her… I can barely push a buggy straight, ESPECIALLY when trying to steer AROUND a two year old sing star.
So I checked out. I asked the cashier if she could have someone measure the fabric for me. I wanted all that was left on the role. She said.. “Oh- is this $1.50 for the whole role?” Ugh… I wish. “NO- per yard. That’s why I need someone to measure it.” She looked at the top of the material again. “Oh. Ok. It says on here 20 yards” and PROCEEDS to try to type in 20 yards in her computer. Brighton’s sucking of the finger had grown so intense his face had turned red and he was started to murmur. LOUDLY. “Ummm… there isn’t 20 yards LEFT on that role. Someone needs to measure it.” Brighton’s murmurs turn to full out WAILS of starvational agony. Brooklyn, in turn, tries to sing OVER his crying. My nerves? Starting to spark. A fire could have spontaneously erupted AT any given moment.
Thank goodness for Miss Competent. “No… see how there is a 20 on this top, here? That means yards.” AND tries to type it in her computer. AGAIN. I almost tell her she’s an IDIOT… but decide I’ll PAY 20 bucks for a couple of yards to GET the HECK OUT of Wal MART. A dude and his boyfriend are whispering about this little hang-up. AS EVERYONE knows only ONE cashier can work after nine p.m. EVEN though there are like 42 cash registers AVAILIBLE. SOOO everyone is lining up behind me. And all at once time stops and I realize I am THAT lady. The lady with the DANG thing that won’t ring up. WITH the screaming baby. WITH the monkey toddler climbing the buggy and singing Twinkle Twinkle at the top of her lungs.
OH but Genius has more to say, “You know what? I can’t get this to ring up without a ticket… I think someone is going to have to measure it for you.” Gee. REALLY? Why didn’t I think of that? “YES! And who can do that??” The reincarnated Einstein shrugged her shoulders, remarkably… SPEECHLESS.
Brighton’s wails were echoing through my head like an air horn in a tin CAN. “I’ll figure it OUT! THANK you! Have a blessed night!” I sweetly tell the poor gal. AND, even though I didn’t have my diaper bag and my breast feeding wrap.. and since I was already THAT lady… I sat on the bench in front of the WAL MART doors, lifted my shirt and let the world watch THAT lady. The one who BREAST FEEDS in public. WITH NO COVER. WITH the TWO year old running back and forth on the bench dancing and blaring JINGLE BELLS in October. OH. AND the lady that has on NO make-up and a greasy ponytail. All I needed was some red paint to go around my neck and I’d been complete.
Brighton was rooting so hard, he was snorting and choking. He went comatose in ten minutes flat. My nerves settled a bit. With all the dignity THAT lady can have, I tromped BACK to the fabric area and found a chic trying to hang up baby clothes. “Can you measure this for me and give me a ticket?” She looked swamped and exhausted, but she obliged. Five yards. Five. Not TWENTY.
GLAD to have survived my Wal-Mart experience I felt like the COOKING should be a breeze. #1- Its in a CROCK POT. How hard can it be?? Well… luckily Starling came home as I was about to put FOUR garlics into the crock pot. “THAT whole THING isn’t a ‘clove.’ And you need to chop them UP.” Oh. I was thinking that was a LOT of garlic… So I opened one garlic up and there were like TONS of ‘cloves.’ I chopped up four of them and wiped the sticky goo onto the side of the crock pot. I didn’t buy all that other jazz junk I’d never heard of, SOOO I improvised with a TON of Tony’s.
I made corn bread- WHICH- recipe comes from a TRUE New Orleans man (who walked into my house one day and saw the smoking ‘cornbread’ on my stove and came to my rescue walking me step by step through making edible cornbread). And IT turned out PERFECT. The rice, too, was fine. (Starling asked me when we first got married if I wanted a rice cooker. NO! What on earth would I do with one of those? I mean- HOW hard could it be to cook RICE? Well… he ate some of my first attempt. Well… TRIED… it was all brown and crispy- like- almost chip a tooth tough… He told me HOW to cook rice. He tried my SECOND attempt. Then he bought me a rice cooker. I’ve never had a problem with rice again).
In the middle of me trying to cook all this mess I get a bang on my door. My neighbor kid tells me that a cat has snatched up Cleo, my bunny, and took off with her. I dart out the door. Thank GOODNESS I am DRESSED. I take off in the direction the alleged CAT has gone just in time to see my neighbor’s dog barking madly in that direction. AND then cat drops bunny. Dog stops chasing cat. Dog chases Cleo. BUT my neighbor’s dog just likes to chase things. He didn’t want to kill the bunny. And he’s Cleo’s hero for scaring the cat- the REAL murderer. Cleo was SCREAMING. I NEVER knew a bunny made any noise. MINE never has! But she was screaming like a lady getting mugged in the Wal Mart parking lot. “Cleo! Cleo!” I called to her. I didn’t figure she’d come to me. She’s a rabbit. Getting chased by a dog. But she flew under a vehicle and flew in front of me and dropped into her Pick me UP position and I snatched her up. She curled up in the crevice of my neck and buried her face in my hair. The POOR thing! I soothed her and took her back to her room that she happens to share with the laundry. When I put her down she climbed back into my lap and licked every parcel of salt off each leg hair. Brooklyn, who didn’t know to be traumatized by me telling her a cat just tried to EAT Cleo, sat down by beside us and started petting Cleo softly saying, “po-be Cleo.” (Pobre Cleo- poor cleo in spanish). I headed back to the kitchen. I checked on Brooklyn a few minutes later when I heard her singing, “Rock a bye Cleo, in tha tree tops.” Brooklyn had climbed behind the laundry basket where Cleo hides and had her wrapped softly in her arms singing to her. Awww… It was a sweet moment. I went back to the kitchen. After a bit I heard Brooklyn’s hysterical laughter. Awww, let me see this, I thought. NOT AWW! NOT. AWW. Brooklyn is dunking Cleo’s head in the water bowl laughing like the Mad Hatter. “BU-ROOK-LYN!!” She immediately stops and looks at me. “But- I just…” I interrupted her, “Do you want me to dunk YOUR head in the water!?” She shook her head no, “But- I just….” I pointed to the door, “OUT. Cleo has just had the WORST day of her LIFE.” Brooklyn softly said, “I’m sorry Cleo..” bent down and kissed her head, “I love you.” I comforted Cleo. AGAIN. Then heard a thud and a crying Brighton.
I ran into the den where I’d left Brighton in a cardboard box. (Yeah- well… I needed something he could sit up in AND reach all of his toys. The box was PERFECT. So don’t judge me). Brighton and his BOX where NOT in the middle of the room where I’d left them. They were slammed up against Starling’s metal filing cabinet. AND Brighton had a HUGE red mark on his forehead. “BROOKLYN! What happened?” She was kissing Brighton’s head before I even got to him. “I don’t KNOW, MOMMy! What is wrong with Bry Bry!”
WELL- it was pretty plain to ME what had happened. Brooklyn had used Brighton’s cardboard box as a race car and catapulted it into the filing cabinet sending Brighton crashing his face into the metal. But, Brooklyn was nearly in tears as she kept saying, “I’m sorry Bry Bry! I not wanted to hurt you! It was- it was jus a little ax-tu-dent!” I calmed Brighton. I calmed me. THEN I took Brooklyn in my arms and told her Brighton was okay and I love her and Brighton loves her and we just have to be extra careful because Brighton is still too little to fly.
I gave Brooklyn some of the red beans and rice to sample. She took one bite and said, “Umm… I’m all done. Can I have some spaghetti-o’s please, Mommy?” I didn’t blame her. The red beans didn’t look so good…. Kinda like a bunch of onions floating in a bowl of water. I attempted the THICKENING power of cornmeal and flour. Then I had floating onions and big clumps of powder. It was looking LESS and LESS appetizing. BUT? WHAT could I do? The missionaries would be at my house in less than an hour. I decided to focus on the desert. Rice Crispy treats. Something easy that I couldn’t mess up. Hmm. I scraped the “treats” into the grass and went for a second GO. OmgEEZE. I plopped the brown, crispy, ROASTED marshmallow treats (that looked more like a science experiment gone WAY wrong- and TASTED like such) onto a plate.
The missionaries had arrived and dinner was what it was. “Ice cream is for dessert.”
Internal Monologue: What in the heck is a HAMHOCK? I didn’t see anything in the pig section of Wal Marts freezer food labeled hamhock. Oh well… probably not too important. SKIP. What the heck is liquid smoke?? Eh… SKIP. What is corn flour? Hmmm I’ll just mix flour and corn mill. That’ll be corn flour right? So…SKIP. AH! Something I RECOGNIZE! 4 cloves of garlic? Ok… Here are four garlics. Wait… is that garlic or white onions? OH! Good thing I checked… Hmm garlic… THERE in the BOXES- I need four- this doesn’t say cloves… oh well. CHECK. I selected the rest of the ingredients I RECOGNIZED… which was basically the onion, bell pepper, and spicey sausage.
WHILE I was at Wal Mart at 10pm with BOTH my little darlings, I wanted to see if BY CHANCE Wal Mart had ANY INCREDIBLY BRIGHT hot pink, green, bright blues, poppin orange fabrics! (I’m trying to liven up Brooklyn’s room now that she’s not a baby anymore. She’s TWO). I’d ALREADY hauled my kiddos to both Hancock Fabrics and Hobby Lobby and found NOTHING that hit the spot. I did find a couple that I could SETTLE for… but at 9.00/yrd (when I need like 25 yards) I wanted to be sewing GOLD. (That’s a good one… SEWING. I have no idea how to sew… This is just part of my motivation to LEARN). Well I looked with fingers crossed. (Well kind of, more like sideways looped inside of a Brighton’s drooling mouth). While Bry Bry chewed my finger down to the bone (like it was actually beginning to THROB), Brooklyn danced through the fabrics singing, “I love THIS ONE the mo-o-st…. it is so beautiful-ll-ll….” To very um… NOT beautiful fabrics. Seriously. NOTHING that I’d imagined in my most vivid dreams. NOT even REMOTELY similar. SOOOOOOO, totally bummed I snatched a whole role of soft, princess pink, silky slinky mess on the clearance rack for $1.50/yrd and tried to locate a worker to measure it for me. The ladies who work the sewing department had long gone but I saw a chic with a “Can I help you” vest, and I bolted after her. She turned, saw me, and- since she was hittin the gossip like sauce- on her CELLULAR DEVICE, she pretended she DIDn’T see me and darted three aisles over. Seriously! Its not like I could run her DOWN to CATCH her… I can barely push a buggy straight, ESPECIALLY when trying to steer AROUND a two year old sing star.
So I checked out. I asked the cashier if she could have someone measure the fabric for me. I wanted all that was left on the role. She said.. “Oh- is this $1.50 for the whole role?” Ugh… I wish. “NO- per yard. That’s why I need someone to measure it.” She looked at the top of the material again. “Oh. Ok. It says on here 20 yards” and PROCEEDS to try to type in 20 yards in her computer. Brighton’s sucking of the finger had grown so intense his face had turned red and he was started to murmur. LOUDLY. “Ummm… there isn’t 20 yards LEFT on that role. Someone needs to measure it.” Brighton’s murmurs turn to full out WAILS of starvational agony. Brooklyn, in turn, tries to sing OVER his crying. My nerves? Starting to spark. A fire could have spontaneously erupted AT any given moment.
Thank goodness for Miss Competent. “No… see how there is a 20 on this top, here? That means yards.” AND tries to type it in her computer. AGAIN. I almost tell her she’s an IDIOT… but decide I’ll PAY 20 bucks for a couple of yards to GET the HECK OUT of Wal MART. A dude and his boyfriend are whispering about this little hang-up. AS EVERYONE knows only ONE cashier can work after nine p.m. EVEN though there are like 42 cash registers AVAILIBLE. SOOO everyone is lining up behind me. And all at once time stops and I realize I am THAT lady. The lady with the DANG thing that won’t ring up. WITH the screaming baby. WITH the monkey toddler climbing the buggy and singing Twinkle Twinkle at the top of her lungs.
OH but Genius has more to say, “You know what? I can’t get this to ring up without a ticket… I think someone is going to have to measure it for you.” Gee. REALLY? Why didn’t I think of that? “YES! And who can do that??” The reincarnated Einstein shrugged her shoulders, remarkably… SPEECHLESS.
Brighton’s wails were echoing through my head like an air horn in a tin CAN. “I’ll figure it OUT! THANK you! Have a blessed night!” I sweetly tell the poor gal. AND, even though I didn’t have my diaper bag and my breast feeding wrap.. and since I was already THAT lady… I sat on the bench in front of the WAL MART doors, lifted my shirt and let the world watch THAT lady. The one who BREAST FEEDS in public. WITH NO COVER. WITH the TWO year old running back and forth on the bench dancing and blaring JINGLE BELLS in October. OH. AND the lady that has on NO make-up and a greasy ponytail. All I needed was some red paint to go around my neck and I’d been complete.
Brighton was rooting so hard, he was snorting and choking. He went comatose in ten minutes flat. My nerves settled a bit. With all the dignity THAT lady can have, I tromped BACK to the fabric area and found a chic trying to hang up baby clothes. “Can you measure this for me and give me a ticket?” She looked swamped and exhausted, but she obliged. Five yards. Five. Not TWENTY.
GLAD to have survived my Wal-Mart experience I felt like the COOKING should be a breeze. #1- Its in a CROCK POT. How hard can it be?? Well… luckily Starling came home as I was about to put FOUR garlics into the crock pot. “THAT whole THING isn’t a ‘clove.’ And you need to chop them UP.” Oh. I was thinking that was a LOT of garlic… So I opened one garlic up and there were like TONS of ‘cloves.’ I chopped up four of them and wiped the sticky goo onto the side of the crock pot. I didn’t buy all that other jazz junk I’d never heard of, SOOO I improvised with a TON of Tony’s.
I made corn bread- WHICH- recipe comes from a TRUE New Orleans man (who walked into my house one day and saw the smoking ‘cornbread’ on my stove and came to my rescue walking me step by step through making edible cornbread). And IT turned out PERFECT. The rice, too, was fine. (Starling asked me when we first got married if I wanted a rice cooker. NO! What on earth would I do with one of those? I mean- HOW hard could it be to cook RICE? Well… he ate some of my first attempt. Well… TRIED… it was all brown and crispy- like- almost chip a tooth tough… He told me HOW to cook rice. He tried my SECOND attempt. Then he bought me a rice cooker. I’ve never had a problem with rice again).
In the middle of me trying to cook all this mess I get a bang on my door. My neighbor kid tells me that a cat has snatched up Cleo, my bunny, and took off with her. I dart out the door. Thank GOODNESS I am DRESSED. I take off in the direction the alleged CAT has gone just in time to see my neighbor’s dog barking madly in that direction. AND then cat drops bunny. Dog stops chasing cat. Dog chases Cleo. BUT my neighbor’s dog just likes to chase things. He didn’t want to kill the bunny. And he’s Cleo’s hero for scaring the cat- the REAL murderer. Cleo was SCREAMING. I NEVER knew a bunny made any noise. MINE never has! But she was screaming like a lady getting mugged in the Wal Mart parking lot. “Cleo! Cleo!” I called to her. I didn’t figure she’d come to me. She’s a rabbit. Getting chased by a dog. But she flew under a vehicle and flew in front of me and dropped into her Pick me UP position and I snatched her up. She curled up in the crevice of my neck and buried her face in my hair. The POOR thing! I soothed her and took her back to her room that she happens to share with the laundry. When I put her down she climbed back into my lap and licked every parcel of salt off each leg hair. Brooklyn, who didn’t know to be traumatized by me telling her a cat just tried to EAT Cleo, sat down by beside us and started petting Cleo softly saying, “po-be Cleo.” (Pobre Cleo- poor cleo in spanish). I headed back to the kitchen. I checked on Brooklyn a few minutes later when I heard her singing, “Rock a bye Cleo, in tha tree tops.” Brooklyn had climbed behind the laundry basket where Cleo hides and had her wrapped softly in her arms singing to her. Awww… It was a sweet moment. I went back to the kitchen. After a bit I heard Brooklyn’s hysterical laughter. Awww, let me see this, I thought. NOT AWW! NOT. AWW. Brooklyn is dunking Cleo’s head in the water bowl laughing like the Mad Hatter. “BU-ROOK-LYN!!” She immediately stops and looks at me. “But- I just…” I interrupted her, “Do you want me to dunk YOUR head in the water!?” She shook her head no, “But- I just….” I pointed to the door, “OUT. Cleo has just had the WORST day of her LIFE.” Brooklyn softly said, “I’m sorry Cleo..” bent down and kissed her head, “I love you.” I comforted Cleo. AGAIN. Then heard a thud and a crying Brighton.
I ran into the den where I’d left Brighton in a cardboard box. (Yeah- well… I needed something he could sit up in AND reach all of his toys. The box was PERFECT. So don’t judge me). Brighton and his BOX where NOT in the middle of the room where I’d left them. They were slammed up against Starling’s metal filing cabinet. AND Brighton had a HUGE red mark on his forehead. “BROOKLYN! What happened?” She was kissing Brighton’s head before I even got to him. “I don’t KNOW, MOMMy! What is wrong with Bry Bry!”
WELL- it was pretty plain to ME what had happened. Brooklyn had used Brighton’s cardboard box as a race car and catapulted it into the filing cabinet sending Brighton crashing his face into the metal. But, Brooklyn was nearly in tears as she kept saying, “I’m sorry Bry Bry! I not wanted to hurt you! It was- it was jus a little ax-tu-dent!” I calmed Brighton. I calmed me. THEN I took Brooklyn in my arms and told her Brighton was okay and I love her and Brighton loves her and we just have to be extra careful because Brighton is still too little to fly.
I gave Brooklyn some of the red beans and rice to sample. She took one bite and said, “Umm… I’m all done. Can I have some spaghetti-o’s please, Mommy?” I didn’t blame her. The red beans didn’t look so good…. Kinda like a bunch of onions floating in a bowl of water. I attempted the THICKENING power of cornmeal and flour. Then I had floating onions and big clumps of powder. It was looking LESS and LESS appetizing. BUT? WHAT could I do? The missionaries would be at my house in less than an hour. I decided to focus on the desert. Rice Crispy treats. Something easy that I couldn’t mess up. Hmm. I scraped the “treats” into the grass and went for a second GO. OmgEEZE. I plopped the brown, crispy, ROASTED marshmallow treats (that looked more like a science experiment gone WAY wrong- and TASTED like such) onto a plate.
The missionaries had arrived and dinner was what it was. “Ice cream is for dessert.”
Monday, October 3, 2011
Today.
You want to see my kitchen table?? 
Well, before you feel bad for my family... like- that they have nowhere to EAT now... DON'T. Be happy for the TABLE... it's finally getting USED!! I'm making Tu Tu's! They are called Tu Tu Cute! (Cheesy is good! Back up off me). $15 a piece! (I was going to sell them for like TEN bucks... until I wasn't done making ONE after an HOUR... kind of WAY time consuming). I'm starting to see why all those little hand made dresses that look WAY easy to make (unless you are like me and can't work a sewing machine...) cost more than heart transplant. THAT must be why China makes all of our clothes. But, despite all of this... I STILL enjoy making cutsie little things to sale. (Ummm... assuming that ONE day someone is going to BUY something from me...)
SOOO far- I've spent well over a hundred bucks on ribbon for hairbows... and then I went BACK to get tulle... WELL then I bought some MATERIAL... (ALL justified because, "STARLING- I'm going to SELL this stuff!!") AND FOR CHEAP, I said... So... IF I pay myself China Sweatshop wages... I MAY break even.
BUT- my education and knowledge... PRICELESS, STARLING!! He he... Amazingly I haven't heard a peep out of him regarding my new obsession with Hobby Lobby and its craft section. AND he's even been a good sport about my sparatic need to redecorate.
Last night Starling was EXHAUSTED and laying in the bed pestering a YAWNING and eye sagging Brooklyn. Brooklyn wouldn't go to sleep until Mommy came to the Night Night. SOOO I put down the tulle. Reluctantly. And a bit Resentfully. I sighed and went into the bedroom to say prayers with my little family. When we were done saying prayers, Starling got in the coma position prepared to get a good nights rest. BUT... something caught my eye. The same thing that catches my eye EVERY night. The whopping shelf that just takes up the WHOLE walkway on Starling's side of the bed. AND like I say every night, "That thing needs to move somewhere. We should move it against THAT wall." (THAT wall being beside the head of the bed where Starling's little table thing is). AND like Starling TELLS me EVERY time I say this, "Wendi. You say that EVERY NIGHT. IT WON'T FIT. Now lets go to bed."
NOW, Starling HAS "technically" MEASURED the shelf and the space on the wall. AND YEH- he says it won't fit. BUT, I was sitting there STARING at the shelf, than the HOLE.... It SHOULD fit. SOOO what do I do?? Go to bed and drop it like a good little wife?? Uh. NO. I went and got the measuring tape, MEASURED... rounded... (bc all those little lines between the numbers are confusing to me)then did the same thing to the space. OK... well.. I figured it was within an inch or two... so it should fit. I'd rounded so I couldn't be 100% CERTAIN... BUT I would MAKE it fit if I had to saw off the base boards in that spot.
To Starling's utter dismay and/or HORROR, I yanked the covers off the bed. I began moving stuff off the shelf and grabbing up anything in the way of my endeavor. Starling moved off the bed just in time for me to yank the mattress out from under him. A king mattress that weighs about four times as much as me. Good thing I've been lifting weights.
"What are you DOING??" He asked. LIKE he didn't KNOW. If you can't beat her (figuratively or literally), JOIN her. SOOO as he was saying, "Wendi... why don't you just let me measure it so I can SHOW you it won't fit," he was ALSO lending a hand to a work he knew would ensue WITH or WITHOUT him. "I already measured!It looked about right." He glared at me, "What WERE the measurements?" I shrugged, "20 something with a couple of those lines- can you lift?" WELL we had to move my DRESSER over... the BED over... move a table and our little fireplace thingy... Starling was shaking his head through the ENTIRE process mumbling things like, "You are one hard headed, stubborn little girl. You can't MAKE something fit that won't fit." I looked at him, "SURE I can. YOU'LL SEE! It's going to look SOOO much better! I promise!" He sighed, quite DRAMATICALLY, if you ask me, and continued DRAGGINg furniture across the room.
Well- for one... I measured from the top of the bed, not the bottom. (And we put high riser things under our bed that take up space on both sides of the bed. While Starling was, and I kid you not, singing, "It doesn't FIT," in a Snoop Dog voice, I was racking my brain. The bed KIND of FIT except it was too big. SO I messed around with the high riser things until it fit. BUT the square block things that make the bed taller were kind of side ways so when Starling touched the frame the whole bed wiggled. "Oh- that's fine! Who cares about that? Put on the mattress." Starling cackled, feeling a bit of 'I told you so's' coming on. "It MATTERS. You can't leave the bed unlevel." SO. I leveled it. I have a big ole bag of hospital panties that I SHOULD toss... BUT after I have another baby I'm just going to LOVE wearing those elastic-less no constricting panties again. I don't care how utterly REPULSIVE they are to the eye... my gut and legs think they are the greatest thing since someone made chicken fry. SOOO I just STUFFED those panties all up in that unlevel part until, a shocked Starling said, "hu...it doesn't wobble," and shook his head wondering what other redneck, rig-uh-mu-roe request I would make. NOTHING too bad... I just told him I wanted to repaint our room. AND I wanted to make ALL kinds of cool things to go on the walls. He didn't bother arguing. His eyes just bugged out of his head before they rolled back behind his eye lids. Since it was like two a.m. or something, he didn't feel much like talking about redoing our room. Again.
But lucky for him, today was Sunday. It was Conference Sunday... which happens twice a year and we get to watch our church leaders speak over satellite on the computer. (SOOO I didn't force him to paint anything). My tear ducts really got a nice workout. I'm pretty sure that all the debris that may have been clogging them has been properly excavated at this point. AND above all... my favorite talk from Conference, which was actually given LAST week at the Relief Society Conference, was "Forget Me Not" by President Dieter F. Uchtdorf.
(Join me in LEFT FIELD). I seriously sqwalled. If you are in need of a PICK ME UP- a motivational reminder that GOD loves YOU... You HAVE to watch/listen/read "Forget Me Not." (And even though you'll cry- its like a GOOD cry- like a "I'm going to go into the world and CHANGE it and leave my footprint in the sand!" kind of cry...) And its funny, too! Do you want to know HOW MUCH I loved this talk? I listened to FOUR hours or so of conference and THEN I said, "Starling... you HAVE to listen to THIS talk." And made him sit through MORE spiritual brain food. Its directed to the women... but men can find it fabulous, too. (Look it up on my FACEBOOK page... I shared a direct link). OR copy and paste this into your browser:
http://lds.org/general-conference/2011/10/forget-me-not?lang=eng
OH and WHILE I'm on the subject of spritual brainfood- LADIES AGAIN- There is a FREE Women's Conference on Friday October 21st from 7:00-9:00 pm and Saturday October 22 from 10:00a.m. to 3:30p.m. It is going to be incredible! Lunch is provided and everything! Register at Hattiesburgreliefsociety.blogspot.com. (And if you don't register- you can still show up!!) They just want a count for food prep. I'd love ALL my friends to come so if you are reading this- YOU ARE INVITED!! Call me with questions 601.270.5808.
ANYWAY- back up to bat. SO THEN after listening to the morning session of Conference I went to see my new nephew Kohen Eric Johnson. I guess since Brighton is only four months old and I can still remember EXACTLY how he felt in my arms after he popped out of me like a kernal of corn, I just can't get enough of baby Kohen. I mean REALLY- I came home and immediately compared his and Brighton's baby pics... they don't look identical or anything but their little facial expressions and their little fuss is so similar I kept telling my motherly instinct to "CHILL OUT!! That ain't your KID, Wendi!" at the hospital. And DESPITE having a four month old (that looks like a two year old- in fatness anyway) holding a newborn did that THING to my insides... newborns talk to my Uterus. They say things like, "Aren't I cozy... warm... don't you want a little hamster growing inside of you??" My uterus was totally getting onboard to my horror until the newborn said the wrong thing, "Don't you miss having a little bundle inside of you? Kicking and rolling around?" THAT is when my uterus snapped back to attention and out of Yellow Fluff World. "UMMMM NO. I do NOT miss be prego THANKS very much!" My bladder and stomach joined in the conversation. My bladder screamed, "I prefer holding MORE than a cup of water at a time! And NOT being yelled at every two hours ALL night long by a crazy lady that thinks yelling at me will make me better capable of holding pee longer." My stomach added, "And I prefer to have food stay in me for longer than an hour. The whole 'Here's ya food-NOPE-I'm taking it back UP and OUT' didn't really work so well for me."
SO- I came home with my "MOMMY drive" back in its rightful position. ON HOLD. Its CRAZY how my emotions can get so easily flustered into thinking crazy... I blame it on the female in me. It makes me succeptible to all KINDS of Nonsense. Two year plan. I am NOT going to be pregnant during Christmas. WOW!! That like NEVER happens!!
I have TWO things on my Christmas list. #1 a camera lens. #2 a Weed-eater that I can crank all by myself. And it needs to be a.. flat? GEEZ- I already forgot what kind I'm supposed to want. The kind that I can turn sideways so I don't have to buy a seperate edger. OH #3 a bunch of Mulch and Round Up.
AND #4,5, and 6- my MASTER BATH FINISHED!! Now... how can I NON chalantly get Starling to read my blog....
Well, before you feel bad for my family... like- that they have nowhere to EAT now... DON'T. Be happy for the TABLE... it's finally getting USED!! I'm making Tu Tu's! They are called Tu Tu Cute! (Cheesy is good! Back up off me). $15 a piece! (I was going to sell them for like TEN bucks... until I wasn't done making ONE after an HOUR... kind of WAY time consuming). I'm starting to see why all those little hand made dresses that look WAY easy to make (unless you are like me and can't work a sewing machine...) cost more than heart transplant. THAT must be why China makes all of our clothes. But, despite all of this... I STILL enjoy making cutsie little things to sale. (Ummm... assuming that ONE day someone is going to BUY something from me...)
SOOO far- I've spent well over a hundred bucks on ribbon for hairbows... and then I went BACK to get tulle... WELL then I bought some MATERIAL... (ALL justified because, "STARLING- I'm going to SELL this stuff!!") AND FOR CHEAP, I said... So... IF I pay myself China Sweatshop wages... I MAY break even.
BUT- my education and knowledge... PRICELESS, STARLING!! He he... Amazingly I haven't heard a peep out of him regarding my new obsession with Hobby Lobby and its craft section. AND he's even been a good sport about my sparatic need to redecorate.
Last night Starling was EXHAUSTED and laying in the bed pestering a YAWNING and eye sagging Brooklyn. Brooklyn wouldn't go to sleep until Mommy came to the Night Night. SOOO I put down the tulle. Reluctantly. And a bit Resentfully. I sighed and went into the bedroom to say prayers with my little family. When we were done saying prayers, Starling got in the coma position prepared to get a good nights rest. BUT... something caught my eye. The same thing that catches my eye EVERY night. The whopping shelf that just takes up the WHOLE walkway on Starling's side of the bed. AND like I say every night, "That thing needs to move somewhere. We should move it against THAT wall." (THAT wall being beside the head of the bed where Starling's little table thing is). AND like Starling TELLS me EVERY time I say this, "Wendi. You say that EVERY NIGHT. IT WON'T FIT. Now lets go to bed."
NOW, Starling HAS "technically" MEASURED the shelf and the space on the wall. AND YEH- he says it won't fit. BUT, I was sitting there STARING at the shelf, than the HOLE.... It SHOULD fit. SOOO what do I do?? Go to bed and drop it like a good little wife?? Uh. NO. I went and got the measuring tape, MEASURED... rounded... (bc all those little lines between the numbers are confusing to me)then did the same thing to the space. OK... well.. I figured it was within an inch or two... so it should fit. I'd rounded so I couldn't be 100% CERTAIN... BUT I would MAKE it fit if I had to saw off the base boards in that spot.
To Starling's utter dismay and/or HORROR, I yanked the covers off the bed. I began moving stuff off the shelf and grabbing up anything in the way of my endeavor. Starling moved off the bed just in time for me to yank the mattress out from under him. A king mattress that weighs about four times as much as me. Good thing I've been lifting weights.
"What are you DOING??" He asked. LIKE he didn't KNOW. If you can't beat her (figuratively or literally), JOIN her. SOOO as he was saying, "Wendi... why don't you just let me measure it so I can SHOW you it won't fit," he was ALSO lending a hand to a work he knew would ensue WITH or WITHOUT him. "I already measured!It looked about right." He glared at me, "What WERE the measurements?" I shrugged, "20 something with a couple of those lines- can you lift?" WELL we had to move my DRESSER over... the BED over... move a table and our little fireplace thingy... Starling was shaking his head through the ENTIRE process mumbling things like, "You are one hard headed, stubborn little girl. You can't MAKE something fit that won't fit." I looked at him, "SURE I can. YOU'LL SEE! It's going to look SOOO much better! I promise!" He sighed, quite DRAMATICALLY, if you ask me, and continued DRAGGINg furniture across the room.
Well- for one... I measured from the top of the bed, not the bottom. (And we put high riser things under our bed that take up space on both sides of the bed. While Starling was, and I kid you not, singing, "It doesn't FIT," in a Snoop Dog voice, I was racking my brain. The bed KIND of FIT except it was too big. SO I messed around with the high riser things until it fit. BUT the square block things that make the bed taller were kind of side ways so when Starling touched the frame the whole bed wiggled. "Oh- that's fine! Who cares about that? Put on the mattress." Starling cackled, feeling a bit of 'I told you so's' coming on. "It MATTERS. You can't leave the bed unlevel." SO. I leveled it. I have a big ole bag of hospital panties that I SHOULD toss... BUT after I have another baby I'm just going to LOVE wearing those elastic-less no constricting panties again. I don't care how utterly REPULSIVE they are to the eye... my gut and legs think they are the greatest thing since someone made chicken fry. SOOO I just STUFFED those panties all up in that unlevel part until, a shocked Starling said, "hu...it doesn't wobble," and shook his head wondering what other redneck, rig-uh-mu-roe request I would make. NOTHING too bad... I just told him I wanted to repaint our room. AND I wanted to make ALL kinds of cool things to go on the walls. He didn't bother arguing. His eyes just bugged out of his head before they rolled back behind his eye lids. Since it was like two a.m. or something, he didn't feel much like talking about redoing our room. Again.
But lucky for him, today was Sunday. It was Conference Sunday... which happens twice a year and we get to watch our church leaders speak over satellite on the computer. (SOOO I didn't force him to paint anything). My tear ducts really got a nice workout. I'm pretty sure that all the debris that may have been clogging them has been properly excavated at this point. AND above all... my favorite talk from Conference, which was actually given LAST week at the Relief Society Conference, was "Forget Me Not" by President Dieter F. Uchtdorf.
(Join me in LEFT FIELD). I seriously sqwalled. If you are in need of a PICK ME UP- a motivational reminder that GOD loves YOU... You HAVE to watch/listen/read "Forget Me Not." (And even though you'll cry- its like a GOOD cry- like a "I'm going to go into the world and CHANGE it and leave my footprint in the sand!" kind of cry...) And its funny, too! Do you want to know HOW MUCH I loved this talk? I listened to FOUR hours or so of conference and THEN I said, "Starling... you HAVE to listen to THIS talk." And made him sit through MORE spiritual brain food. Its directed to the women... but men can find it fabulous, too. (Look it up on my FACEBOOK page... I shared a direct link). OR copy and paste this into your browser:
http://lds.org/general-conference/2011/10/forget-me-not?lang=eng
OH and WHILE I'm on the subject of spritual brainfood- LADIES AGAIN- There is a FREE Women's Conference on Friday October 21st from 7:00-9:00 pm and Saturday October 22 from 10:00a.m. to 3:30p.m. It is going to be incredible! Lunch is provided and everything! Register at Hattiesburgreliefsociety.blogspot.com. (And if you don't register- you can still show up!!) They just want a count for food prep. I'd love ALL my friends to come so if you are reading this- YOU ARE INVITED!! Call me with questions 601.270.5808.
ANYWAY- back up to bat. SO THEN after listening to the morning session of Conference I went to see my new nephew Kohen Eric Johnson. I guess since Brighton is only four months old and I can still remember EXACTLY how he felt in my arms after he popped out of me like a kernal of corn, I just can't get enough of baby Kohen. I mean REALLY- I came home and immediately compared his and Brighton's baby pics... they don't look identical or anything but their little facial expressions and their little fuss is so similar I kept telling my motherly instinct to "CHILL OUT!! That ain't your KID, Wendi!" at the hospital. And DESPITE having a four month old (that looks like a two year old- in fatness anyway) holding a newborn did that THING to my insides... newborns talk to my Uterus. They say things like, "Aren't I cozy... warm... don't you want a little hamster growing inside of you??" My uterus was totally getting onboard to my horror until the newborn said the wrong thing, "Don't you miss having a little bundle inside of you? Kicking and rolling around?" THAT is when my uterus snapped back to attention and out of Yellow Fluff World. "UMMMM NO. I do NOT miss be prego THANKS very much!" My bladder and stomach joined in the conversation. My bladder screamed, "I prefer holding MORE than a cup of water at a time! And NOT being yelled at every two hours ALL night long by a crazy lady that thinks yelling at me will make me better capable of holding pee longer." My stomach added, "And I prefer to have food stay in me for longer than an hour. The whole 'Here's ya food-NOPE-I'm taking it back UP and OUT' didn't really work so well for me."
SO- I came home with my "MOMMY drive" back in its rightful position. ON HOLD. Its CRAZY how my emotions can get so easily flustered into thinking crazy... I blame it on the female in me. It makes me succeptible to all KINDS of Nonsense. Two year plan. I am NOT going to be pregnant during Christmas. WOW!! That like NEVER happens!!
I have TWO things on my Christmas list. #1 a camera lens. #2 a Weed-eater that I can crank all by myself. And it needs to be a.. flat? GEEZ- I already forgot what kind I'm supposed to want. The kind that I can turn sideways so I don't have to buy a seperate edger. OH #3 a bunch of Mulch and Round Up.
AND #4,5, and 6- my MASTER BATH FINISHED!! Now... how can I NON chalantly get Starling to read my blog....
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