Brooklyn and I had a fun day today... which we were in desperate need of after being cooped up like hens in a chicken truck on the way to get cooked ALL day yesterday. Well- the night time anyway. And time always seems to drag when Starling isn't home. He drove to Laurel through all the tornadoes and flash floods to bring back his DEAR and BELOVED Bronco. (OH you BET I'm just so thrilled I've no WORDS... our driveway looks like a used car lot/junk yard. What more could a girl want?) And of course the rain POUNDING down, the thunder cracking like a rifle at the ear, and the streaking lightning was no deterent for my child who kept whining, "Mommee... want go outside and pway! Want ride in wagdon." to which I kept reminding her... "its dark! AND we'd have to swim through our yard to even GET to the road for me to push you in your wagon.. which by the way is ALSO filled up with water."

Finally I let her go outside. I put her on a swimsuit and said, "have fun. daddy will let you in when he gets home." And I went to bed.

No. That really didn't happen... though the thought DID cross my mind. What I REALLY did was open the front door and let her stand on the front porch and WATCH the rain... and then she kind of played in it a bit and I tried to take pics.

(Which didn't work for some reason... for one she would NOT look at ME. and I got so frustrated with her lack of cooperation I gave up entirely, made her come in which BROKE her heart, threw her and Charkley in the tub, and MADE her bathe).

But ANYWAY- today was much better. We woke up and ate blueberry pancakes prepared by Daddy (and yes... i ate a couple bites even though I haven't exactly been CRAVING them since I threw them all up just last SATURDAY...) but it was a very nice gesture and I didn't want to hurt my Love's feelings. AND Starling made platenos (which is a Honduran food that Starling LOVES from his mission). Its almost just like bananas that are fried and dipped in salty sour cream. And usually they are served over Honduran red beans, but we just ate them and they were VERY yummy!

Starling and I BOTH had places to be at 11:00 a.m. so we were fighting over the bathroom. (Our master bath is still being remodeled so we have ALL of our stuff in Brooklyn's bathroom). He of course decided to CUT his hair (which is about the MESSIEST thing a person can do just shy of ripping a dirty diaper into a hundred pieces and strowing it all over the house.- which CHANCE did... how we miss that little rascal!) SOOO one glance at the tiny black curly hairs spread ALL over the floor, ALL over the shower, ALL over the sink, AND even on our TOOTHBRUSHES, and I lost all drive to enter that bathroom. I just flipped my hair into a ponytail, slipped on my pj pants and a sweatshirt, and said, "NO shower for ME. NO make-up, and NO worries." I did however pick two hundred and ten pieces of hair off my toothbrush because my morning breath was THAT bad and it was WORTH it. And Brooklyn brushed her teeth.

Starling went to show a house. I went to a play date at Jessie's. Emily joined us with her little one and once the girls, Brooklyn and Layla, caught sight of Preston, they were glued to him like ants on a juicy foot. They kissed him and hugged him and gave and stole toys from him. It was sweet... although I don't think he was so keen on it. We girls got our gab on, which is ALWAYS a much needed release of carbon dioxide. We laughed. We griped. We ate. It was pretty much a perfect get together. (AND we'll be doing it weekly if any ladies would like to JOIN us).

I finally left with Brooklyn rubbing her tired eyes. I thought, "oh, good.. we'll finally take a nap and we'll both be rejuvinated..." but, NO, the door sounded. I knew it was the neighbor kids and I didn't answer the knock. (bc i didn't WANT to, that's WHY). I whispered, "Brooklyn! Come here lets go take a nap!" my eyes were silently PLEADING with her to follow my lead. FAT chance of THAT happening. Her droopy eyes POPPED open and she yelled, "TUM IN!!!!" And IN walks my neighbor kids. NO NAP for us. Blast my childs over developed LUNGS!

So.. I decided I could do one of two things. Get peeved and start plucking out my hair and eyelashes, OR just take the party OUTSIDE so at least my house wouldn't get ramshackled during the visit. I decided on the latter idea. I got in a swim top, shirt, and shorts, put Brooklyn in some play clothes and said, "LETS go outside and play in the mud!" My neighbor kids were thrilled as was Brooklyn.

We strolled down to the dead end road where loggers have been cutting timber and set up shop. There was TONS of MUD. I carried along Brooklyn's sand pail and some toys so that she could really DIG in. But of course, the older kids played with the toys and Brooklyn giggled at them getting their legs stuck in mud.

I took my camera to get some pics and of course when "I" stand in the mud to get a PIC of Brooklyn watching them... she goes BIZERK that my FEET have gotten dirty. And trying to get HER feet in the mud? "NOOOOOOO!!! Don't WANT it! Dirty!"

I couldn't believe it. Who's kid IS she?? One of Starling and my favorite types of dates is seeing who can throw the other down in the mud and get the other the dirtiest or gross it each other out... kind of tie between the two...

Brooklyn would only stand on the EDGE of the mud and use her scoop to gently scrape mud into her bucket. But she didn't even want her HAND touching it. And we play outside EVERYDAY... its not like its her first encounter with the outdoors. She loves water. Not dirt. OH WELL... maybe Brighton will have mud wars with me... sigh...

Brooklyn HAD to wash her feet and HANDS NOW and I could tell that she REALLY needed to take a nap, so we headed back towards the house, which is not even half a mile, but since you have to climb a mountain to get there... its basically like a ran a marathon. The lower part of my stomach was KILLING me. The pain is only comparable to taking a large boulder, tying a rope around it, and carrying it with your teeth. That tugging feeling of your jaw yelling at your brain, "THIS is NOT NORMAL and should NOT BE HAPPENING" is the same tugging that was going on in my gut. BUT I couldn't just tell the kids, "Ya'll go ahead... I'm going to lie here in the road until a crane gets her to lift me up and haul me home." So I pushed along. (Its a daily occurence... You'd think I'd be used to it or quit walking down that dang ROAD). And of course, in my ghetto/red neck outfit, walking barefoot with mud up to my knees, I see some people from church. (ALWAYS great to have witnesses to your horrific appearance). And then Starling and Matt drive up... only TWO more witnesses... and then a truck load of missionaries.... well the world has seen it now. Don't JUDGE ME! I got weighed at the doctor and am a whopping 139. The first time I was weighed? 108. TRY THAT ON FOR SIZE. (You'll need that boulder you've been carrying around with your teeth).

And Starling surprised me with two palm trees and two yuccu plants. Woo HOO! Landscaping... here we come! Except for one little minor detail. We planted the two trees on the side of our house and the little label definitely claims that the trees get 40 feet tall and like 10 feet FAT so... Our driveway will probably get destroyed along with our house. Oh well... Starling said when they get too big we'll just transplant them. (RI-I-Ight.. We'll chain saw them down and say we learned our lesson and plant some shrubs).

We're going to get some more for our backyard since THAT is where "I" Wanted THOSE palm trees... (They look SO nice with our GIANT magnolia tree in the front yard... like they belong in our little MS village...)... But the yuccu plants looks awesome on my porch! Much better than the dying little twigs that were there. (We discovered inside plants actually HAVE to be kept inside. So we moved our twigs back to their posts in Starling's living room).

Then I asked Starling what he wanted for dinner. As usual, "You don't have to cook. I ate a late lunch. I'm not hungry." As usual I thought, "MUST be nice to EAT out everyday. ERR." So I asked Brooklyn what she wanted (praying she didn't say GRITS again bc I always end up eating them bc she decides she wants spagetti loos and beatballs afterall). She said "want spify jumliya!" (translated spicy jumbalaya). SOOOOOOOO I COOKED! I made us jumbalaya, corn, AND green beans. (the jumbalaya tasted good since its Zatarans out of a box... the other two things... both out of a can- not so good. BUT i did HEAT them in pots on the stove so that counts for SOMETHING). Brooklyn ate a couple green beans. She ate TONS of rice and sausage... but that child literally GAGGED on the corn. AGAIN- WHO's KID iS SHE?? Corn is my FAVORITE food on earth. I can eat it straight out of a can cold... She wouldn't even eat it mixed in with the rice! She'd eat around it and spit the corn out like a watermellon seed. I was mortified. MY child not eating corn... that's like finding out your child hates basketball and being Michael Jordan. Like being Starling and finding out your kid hates chocolate... UnHeArD of! But whatever... at least she likes green beans...

Brooklyn, who STILL hadn't taken a nap, started sleep eating. She'd open her mouth for a bite and start air chewing before I'd put anything in. She'd groan, "es... yum...mee...mo...mee..." while her eyes are rolling back in her head. It was too precious AND too time consuming... so I put her in bed.

Then I heard a yowling racket outside. Charkley lifted his head, snorted, and flopped back on the couch, too tired to investigate after playing so hard in the mud. I walked outside to see that my Jewels, our white cat that I sheered like a sheep, had two friends over and they were begging her to feed them. One was very small and they both looked half starved so I did what any insane person would do. I dipped out two piles of cat food and plopped it on the concrete and sat back and watched them hungrily devour it. Then I put some more out. And then, and only then, did I think to myself, "Hmmm... if I feed these cats they may hang around and I'll be feeding THREE cats instead of one. DANG IT!" But mostly I love that we live in a neighborhood where Charkley has two best friends, Sampson and Eli, and Brooklyn has two best friends (that are ten and 8) Mike Mike and Franja, Starling has two best friends- the missionaries, and now my Jewels has two best friends... so what if they are strays... Yep. I love it. Well, when I am not busy hating it. I just get annoyed when I'm sleeping and two dogs start clawing at the sliding glass door and barking to get Charkley or RUNNING into my house and peeing, or the kids knock and when I don't answer come in ANYWAY, and that goes for the missionaries, too. BUT I'm trying to remember the days that I love it. And not dwell on the days when I hate it.

But Starling is finally home at 9:00 and Brooklyn is sleeping so we are going to spend some TLC together... AFTER Starling submits an offer for one of his clients... the man's work is never done... sigh...

too much poop

Today I had to run some errands so I got up early (Mission impossible ACCOMPLISHED... though I won't pretend it was easy getting up at six after Brooklyn woke up at 3:30 and had diarrea and then decided she didn't want to go back to bed). Daddy got up with her mostly, but Brooklyn still came to tell me she wanted to watch Dora, then Callou, then Barney... even though her Daddy was sitting next to her on the couch. I love that I have to ALWAYS be the middle man on ALL things no matter that Brooklyn has to run WAY out of her way to tell me. (WITH the exception of candy... she skips me bc I say no and goes straight to the YES source).

When my alarm had THREE dilectible minutes LEFT before sounding, Brooklyn announced "Mommay! I need a wipe." "What for?" I moaned seriously UNBELIEVING that I was AGAIN being woken up. She got more frantic, "Mommeee!! I need a wi-ipe!" "UGHGHGH!" I groaned none to happy and none to subtle about expressing my JOY. I gave her a wipe, well more like slung it in her general direction, mouthed off to Starling who was back in the bed with the covers pulled over his ears snoring, and started chewing out the shower curtain for being in my path to the shower. Brooklyn just stood at the bathroom door watching me curiously. She stopped whining entirely and was probably debating whether or not I had finally lost my marbles. When I'd finished yanking off my clothes and slamming them with as much energy as I could muster into the clothes hamper, I turned to see that Brooklyn had taken two steps forward.

She looked like she wanted to say something so I tried to ask UN-angrily, "What do you need Brooklyn?" She eyed me for a bit, then decided to take a chance on me still being sane. "Want take a bath wif Mommy," she whispered. "Ok" I smiled, forcefully trying to take the frost out of my tone. She's so darn cute that she melted me pretty quick. I was already in the shower so I just reached out to help her remove her clothes.

She handed me the wipe, which confused me, until I lowered her pants. "STARLING!!!! STARLING!!! I know you can HEAR ME! STOP pretending to be ASLEEP!!" I shouted. More POOP draining down her leg. Brooklyn joined me, "Star-WING!!! WAKED UP!!! NEED HE-ELP!"

"UHGHG" came the reply from the bedroom. But at least he'd made a response. He FINALLY dragged out of bed and cleaned her up and handed her to me. I showered us quickly. She didn't want out. She wanted to color. (She has colors for the tub. and yes, my tub is beautiful). I let the tub fill and got ready.

"Mommee...!!" came a panicked cry. "Mommeee! Want out!" I went and looked and SURE enough. MORE POOP!!! "STARLING!!! WAKE UP!!! I'm running late! You're going to have to take care of that. Just throw her in the other tub!"

He finally gave up on recouping any of his sleep (which is only fair that we both suffer) and bathed AND dressed her. (i guess he wanted to get it all over with).

ANYWAY- I took Brooklyn with me and we successfully reached our destination (with only three phone calls for directions). Of course, when I tried to come home, I went the wrong way (SURPRISE!) and ended up near my cousins house so I called to see if she was home. She said she was and I said, "Great! I'm on your door step! I didn't want to come without a heads up!"

She has a 5 month old baby, Madison, that is now sitting up! She's a doll (the exACT prototype that I THOUGHT I was going to have- tan, dark brown hair, dark eyes... but i got a blond hair blue eyed youngin from WHO knows where... but we'll keep her anyway). I was curious to see Brooklyn interact with her since most all of Brooklyn's friends are older.

(its thundering right now at my house and Brooklyn keeps jumping away from the window saying, "mommy. WOE." and Charkley is trying to dig his way under my butt, not that its budging, and shaking like a pair of dentures in a 98 year old woman's mouth. its cracking me up. I hope my computer and netflix doesn't blow up).

Anyway- back to Brooklyn and Madison. Brooklyn ever so gently pulled out Madison's toys and handed them to her one by one saying, "WOO, look Ma'ison! Es a TOY!" And then she opened up one of her animal books and sat right next to the very attentive baby. "What es this, Ma'ison? Es a giraffe! What about th-is, Ma'ison? Es a tiger.." Madison watched ever so intently at the little person yapping away at her. Then Brooklyn shocked Shannon, my cousin, and I both. AND Madison. She grabbed both of Madison's hands and tried to swing her in a burst of "Ring 'da'round da' Rosie.. uh pot of uh huh O-Zi, ashies, ashies, all fall down!" Luckily I was sitting close enough to catch hold of Madison and stand her up while this went on so that I didn't get banned from Shannon's house forever. If ONLY I had my camera. Madison was squealing in delight/confusion and Brooklyn is the most GRACEFUL fall downer I've ever seen. She would put her hands down, sit on her bum, look behind her as she eased onto her back, then kick her legs up in the air as a finishing touch. And they played it about 10 times. Then Brooklyn held Madison's hands and Brooklyn said, "Ma'ison! Want Dun Dun Bidges??!" And then, with the help of ME, did London Bridges Falling Down. Then both of the girls started swiping their eyes and yawning and Brooklyn announced that she wanted to go Bye Bye.

Of course SHE napped all the way home while I yawned and day dreamed about taking a nap when I got home. I got her out of the car and layed down beside her SO thrilled to get some shut eye after the exhausting night I had. BUT less than fifteen minutes passed before Brooklyn sat up in the bed and told me she was hungry and ready to get UP. AND I kissed my nap goodbye promising to return to it if there was any humanity left in the world. (there ISn'T!)

But! there is HOPE left in the world.. no not for my sleep... but for my CAR... Starling put my Honda up for sale on Craig's List (he had to get the transmission replaced before he could sale it) and it sold within the hour. Woo HOO! AND we are SUPPOSED to drive MY car, (the Altima one I got for my birthday and couldn't get a tag for bc MS is incompetent in some law about tags and wouldn't let me get one with my South Carolina title), to NORTH Carolina (long story bc South Carolina has ghetto rules TOO) to get some RE-done title that MS WILL accept. Can I get a WHOOP WHOOOP?! Thank you. I hope all of you say that out loud with much enthusiasm. While sitting in your desk at work. In a very quiet moment. And I hope someone gets it on video.

"Smoked"

Since I've been sick and in the bed for two days, I took up some light reading... I found my old purple backpack filled with my drawings and essays I wrote from school. I realized, sadly, that I haven't changed much since seventh and eighth grade. (And neither have my cooking abilities).

04.17.01
When people say, "It can't get any worse," they do not know what they are talking about. I never say that because even with the glimmer of consideration of this forlorn fib, something much worse occurs.
When the phrase, "I'm a walking accident," is stated, people just would not understand that statement until they have met me. I will describe an accident which occurred leaving me oddly thankful. I suppose there is truth that one can learn from their mistakes. With all the mistakes I make, I will learn to be perfect quite soon.

I needed a job and quick money. My age, being merely fourteen, jobs don’t hurl themselves at me. Instead they shiver, shake, and shy away. For once though, my luck had seemed to change. I was offered a babysitting job, which I accepted in one-half a milli-second. I must say that I was incredibly thrilled. Money to me is as precious as honey to Winnie the Pooh! I knew I’d be receiving a plausible amount considering I would be there three until midnight. This didn’t bother me in the slightest bit, for I was mesmerized by visions of jewelry, clothes, and make-up. This is where the spending money firmly planted itself.

I ignorantly forgot to recall my former acquaintances with stoves. (These were not pleasant occasions). Because I would be there with the three most precious children for an absolute eternity, I was being asked to cook!
I arrived at my client’s house exactly on the dot. I carried myself with grace, portraying a mature babysitter that could even be counted on to…cook! Everything was perfect until the dreaded task was forced upon me. I faced the stove with determination. I withdrew a long, enduring breath. My shaking fingers found the buttons on the face of the stove and gently pressed them. At long last the pan of chicken nuggets was in the oven heating.

Like a buzzard awaiting the death of its prey, I stood near the oven. A beep sounded, and I removed the food, not charcoal, but food! To my surprise it was edible! But like a raincloud descending on the perfect, sunny day, the mashed potatoes glared scornfully up at me.
“You forgot to heat me!” it taunted.

With defiance glaring in my eyes, I took the black pot of potatoes, turned on an oven eye, and plopped that sucker right at home. Confident now in my cooking, I left to search for the children.
Only gone a second, my stomach lurched at the distressful smell blundering from the kitchen. The stench of decapitated potatoes mixed with that of melting plastic filled my nostrils. In a rush, I dashed speedily into the kitchen, where, to my greatest horror, stood a melting glob of goo shooting out smoke in tremendous amounts! Panic overwhelmed me as smoke engulfed me.

My hands trudged along, finding the glob of goo. Without a moment’s hesitation, I lifted the pot. Only the top came up, gravity and heat gluing the “plastic” pot to the oven eye. I jerked up the entire eye and chunked it into the sink.
By now I was not alone. Three excited children danced gleefully around in the smoldering heat and stifling smoke screaming, “Fire! Fire! The house is on fire!”

Of course, there was no fire, just smoke, but if a nuclear bomb had exploded I wouldn’t have moved. The only moving thing was my heart, which was literally trying to escape my chest.
Slowly my rasping breath slowed, and I explained the circumstances to the kids.

“Well, I suppose this’ll be the last time I sit for ya’ll ‘cuz I kind of put that plastic pot on the stove,” I told them sadly.
We cleaned it up, though. Actually guilt driving me on, I cleaned the entire kitchen, vacuumed the entire house, and made up all the beds.
In the end I got my money, and boy was I thrilled! I was desperately relieved that I didn’t have to replace the ‘microwave’ pot. It is an experience I am glad I went through. I learned an awful lot! I discovered the difference between microwave and stove top pots. It improved my character, too. Any pride I ever had was demolished right when I had to admit my stupidity to my charge’s parents. Though a lesson well learned, I still have not been called upon to supervise their precious children again.

My teacher made sure to note that this was supposed to be a “formal piece” but since it kept him laughing he’d forgive my ludicrous language.
And as I recall, I left out a LOT from that story…. Like Christian, the youngest, dressed as the red power ranger opening all the windows and shouting, “We need a fire truck in here!” Or Julia and Jake finding every type of spray and trying to help “spruce” up the sour odor. (Of course Lysol, hairspray, and perfume didn’t mix all that well with melted plastic).

And I certainly didn’t mention how many rough drafts I went through trying to decide EXACTLY how to tell Dean and Rhonda Nickens EXACTLY how I managed to make their entire house smell like putrid burnt plastic. And how I fell asleep around 11:30 or so STILL trying to come up with the perfect apology and my dad showed up at the same time they did and I didn’t want to tell them in front of HIM! So I decided to wait until Sunday to tell them, but by then their children had explained it all to them. (And I would LOVE to hear THEIR take on the story). Needless to say- it was kind of horrific. BUT if FUN was the main goal for me babysitting- I would have Aced it… if SAFETY was the main goal… well… they are COMPLETELY justified in never calling me again! Haha (so Safety MUST be more important than fun).

Parking Lot Fun

We MADE it to our Chic Filet Grand Opening only 3 1/2 hours away in West Monroe, LA!! We arrived and there were only 24 people there so we went shopping instead of checking in. We went to BIG LOTS (and looked at their very inexpensive patio furniture that I've been trying to drag Starling to look at for a month now...) AND we actually AGREED on something! A set! AND matching flower pots! (That's kind of a HUGE deal in my life. When we both leave happy with a decision to purchase the SAME THING). Usually we go to look at furniture and leave with Starling wanting a new gadget or gun.

My mom, who is a lover of Chic Filet like ALL NORMAL people in the U.S., went with us. She and Brooklyn checked in early while Starling and I spent the day together sight seeing... We, um.., saw WAL-MART! (which isn't as exciting as you might think. BUT WAIT! we bought tangerines!) We also looked through the plant nursery trying to decide what to plant in our yard for landscaping purposes. And I can't tell because every plant I saw is like an inch tall. HOW do I know what my finished yard will look like when they are size: microscopic? (YES I read the card attached to the plant that tells you how big the dern thing will get but I need to SEE it to grasp the REAL perspective). PLUS... will I kill the plant BEFORE it gets big? (Sometimes I do NOT like being a Do-It-My-Selfer).

We then went to some Pawn-Shop thing in the run-down ghetto where they sold GOLD and GUNS. I walked in first, saw the selection in one glance, and attempted to bolt but STARLING had already seen the guns. SIGH! (He is on some GUN kick that is as annoying as his MOTORCYCLE obsession..). AND so HERE the worker dude and STARLING go about guns... "This 'un here is a beauty... a steal..." BLA BLA BULL BLA... So I glance at the rings which all look dingy, but I try to act excited when Starling tells the guy to let me try on one of them that looks like an engagement ring. (bc I ALWAYS need a second engagement ring... I won't even wear a wedding band. I told Starling I wanted "A" as in SINGULAR engagement ring and that it would ALSO serve as my wedding band. You'd THINk he'd be the happiest man alive... but he's ALWAYS trying to find good deals on rings). Anyway... as beautiful as two engagement rings looked on my hand, I opted NOT to beg and plead for it.

When I finally drug Starling from there, (bc he was BOUND and DETERMINED to buy something that we didn't need), we went on an even more extravagent hot spot. DIRT CHEAP. My mom saved me on that exit strategy because she told me Chic Filet was about to serve dinner. But we couldn't LEAVE before buying a Wal-Mart bag full of batteries. (which is actually a good purchase considering all the toys Brooklyn has that suck batteries like a straw).

We returned to Chic Filet for the chicken nugget party and "told" Eric and Steph, who were on their way with Jena and Whitney, to chop chop because the Chic Filet counter was on number 74. (ONly the first 100 get a year supply of free chic filet). They were three hours away and we were lying through our teeth. We were really on number 40 something. So we sat around laughing at their panic. (We should probably work on being nicer or something).

Chic Filet had a live band jamming out to KLove songs (which I happen to listen to and LOVE). And then some employee chic bought and brought Starling and me Hand Spuns. (So naturally we were in Heaven because they have THE best ice cream pROBably.. no DEFINITELY on planet earth).

We then began to panic for our late friends as we saw thirty people line up.. and they just kept coming. When they finally showed up they were numbers 99, 100, 101, and 102. The defeat was written all over their sad little faces. BUT- like good troopers- they decided to stay in hopes that sOMEHOW, someWAY they would FORCE someone to leave and steal their spot. (which is essentially what happened but that is another story entirely). After the last roll call TWO people had left the premises and our entire group got free chic filet. WOO-DEE-HOO!!!

Some highlights of the Chic Filet night:
STEPHANIE trying to ROLL a hula-hoop onto a coke bottle..
Eric, Starling, my mom, and I racing against several other teams to suck M&M's to the end of a straw and RUN it down to an awaiting cup, drop it in without using hands, run back and get another M&M. Of course we lost miserably. We had 2 prego's on our team! How unfair was THAT... I had to get down on my hand and knees everytime (like everyone else) and drop the m&m into the cup on the ground. The problem is... once I got down there it was like heaving a cow out of the mud trying to get back up!
THEN we all played a chair, scavenger-hunt thing, which was fabulous. We raced around trying to find the things being called out and return to our chair before it got yanked out from under us. AND I WOULD'VE WON had some chic not climbed underneath my lowering bum to push me out of the way. (I should've sat on her and that would have put an end to her climbing underneath VERY pregnant people). But I lasted awhile anyway. I account that to ZUMBA and its preparing my legs to keep pumping no matter how jelly-like they become.

Brooklyn seeing the two giant cows dancing and frolicking through the parking lot. She excitingly exclaimed, "MOMMAY!! Es a COW!! Moo! Moo! Es dancing! Look!" and then having an immediate melt-down panic attack as the cow came up to her. Her glee turned to horror in less than .324's of a second. She started screaming, "NOOOO!! Don't WANT IT! Don't WANT IT COW!!" And of COURSE when I try to video it, the dang cow won't participate.

I kept telling him, "Okay... now come around behind her and let me get her reaction." Everytime she's pucker up, he'd LEAVE! I told him I'd be going cow tipping later, under my breath. People and their unwillingness to give me a funny home video! Do you know what I could do with Funniest Home Video money?? Get my yard landscaped with real plants for starters...

Then they set up a HUGE screen and played "Dispicable Me". I looked around and only Brooklyn and I were still up from our little group of party poopers. Then even Brooklyn ditched me, "Want Mia." And I thought me saying, "Well Mia went night night. Do you want to go night night?" that she would say NO... but she yawned and said, "Yesh. want night-night with Mia." So i stuck her in my mom's tent and crawled in next to Starling. It took me about fifteen minutes to zip up my sleeping bag. I felt like a caterpillar trying to wrap up in a cacoon (however I did NOT feel like a butterfly emerging OUT of the sleeping bag the next morning).

With bedhead, no make-up, and morning breath from down under, everyone was told to line up at 5:00 a.m.

OH! and they told us the bathrooms would be closing in 15 min. (telling that to a pregnant woman who's child must find great joy in using her BLADDER as a trampoline is similar to telling a child the only candy store in town is burning down). So I waddled to stand in the huge bathroom line to get my pee on.

Then the pots and pans banged and the cows mooed and the ribbon was cut! And all of us, clad in our bran new EXTRA LARGE t-shirts, (which fits me a little better than I'd like to admit) hurried through to receive our box of coupons. (its the closest thing i've come to WALKING at a graduation, since I skipped ALL three of mine, to my mothers chagrin... no pictures of me in cap and gown...) But she got to PROUDLY watch me receive my coupons. (Tear, tear).

What a proud day! And Brooklyn was the cherry on top! Dressed to the part of the CHIC, she exclaimed boldly (and kind of creepily if you think about it...) "Eat more tichen! Eat more tichen!" (Starling told her she should be saying eat cow.. or don't eat ME... but she didn't get it). And I wanted to get a video of her as the chicken next to the cow screaming her famous, "don't want it! don't want it!" but unfortunately she woke up NO longer afraid of the cow and was merrily giving the cow five and "some stin" (skin). AND that was cute, too. (but not half as funny).

We then left to make our way back home. We only had ONE peradventure when my mom and I walked out of the gas station to see Starling cleaning his wind shield while gas errupted out of his gas tank. My mom hurriedly cut it off, thank goodness. Starling was CompLETELY oblivious. I figure, by the intensity of gasoline shooting out and the amount on the ground AND the amount of gallons we had to pay for that Starling's car can't hold... we could have filled up our lawn mower about three times. (but instead we filled the parking lot). Hope noone drops a cigarrette!

And of course I couldn't WAIT to unpack when I got home!! (sarcasm. and I didn't). I went to SLEEP and eventually Brooklyn joined me. Poor Starling took a shower and went to school. I am SOOO glad that I am done with college! I repeat SO GLAD! (but more power to Starling for getting his Master's. I'm very proud of him! and glad its not me).

I know that you wish you would have gone with us. AND you'll get your chance in JUNE! There is another grand opening coming up. (I'll probably be in a wheelchair at it since I'll have JUST had my baby... but I'll be there... go ahead and count your chickens).

Well I think I skipped or day or two blogging... so maybe that means I'm getting my new obsession under control. But, seriously, if I don't write everyday I'm going to miss things and since this has taken over my NORMAL writing journal (that I stunk at keeping up to date, ALSO) I'll have to play catch up.

SEVERAL important events have taken place. Brooklyn formed a new phobia of frogs, Starling discovered that cooking IS hard, Brooklyn got Mommied and so did Starling, AGAIN, and then all the mundane, normal life things.

SATURDAY
Saturday we went to the baptism of an amazing woman where Starling, his brother Eric, and I sang a trio accompanied by Starling and Eric on their guitars. Brooklyn, of course, had to help pray and help sing. BUT, all in all, she was very well behaved. We then went to our friend, Stacey's, house. The men gabbed about motorcycles and a bunch of other things that annoy wives while the wives talked about the men. AND our lovely children. Stacey went into the kitchen and said, "oh! come look!" And so Shelly and I went to observe two bright green rain-frogs suction-cupped to the kitchen window.

Thinking Brooklyn would enjoy the frogs close up, but still behind glass, I summoned her. She excitedly exclaimed, "Mommy! FU-ROGS!!" and she was giggly until I tried to make her touch the glass where the frogs where stationed. "NO!!!!!!! Don't WANT it, frogs!" Okay, okay... I put her down, not wanting to traumatize her. Then Shelley said, "Man if she's that scared of them in here, I'd love to see her reaction to them touching her!" AND THEN MEAN MOMMY CAME OUT. I said, "SOOOO would I!!"

So I took Brooklyn outside to see the frogs. AGAIN, she was VERY enthusiastic and excited. So I pulled one of the frogs from the window and it jumped from my fingers onto the deck. Brooklyn thought this was hysterical and began howling at this new game of "mommy catch the frog". So I kept picking it up and it kept jumping. Finally, I caught it and secured it. "Brooklyn, do you want to pet it." She backed away and shook her head firmly, no. Then the dang frog lept out of my fingers RIGHT into the center of Brooklyn's face covering her entire nose and cheeks. She began shaking her head frantically and the stinkin frog wouldn't let go. It was holding on for dear life to her petrified skin. She was screaming and hollering and I was trying to get the thing off her, really I was, but I couldn't work my hands because I was laughing so hard I was practically having contractions. And Brooklyn was STILL scared to touch it with her fingers EVEN with it glued to her face! I finally got it off and she fled into the house like a cat with its tail on fire. Poor thing... the thing I regret most is not forseeing the hilarity of that moment and bringing a dang video camera.

SUNDAY
Sunday church was lovely. I got there ON TIME at 9 a.m. and so I wasn't running up the aisle to lead the music like an elephant that just escaped the circus. It was a NICE feeling. I took lots of notes on rearing my children in the scriptures and teaching them of the Savior. My dad took Brooklyn home with him after church so Starling and I went to our house to spend some quality time together making LUNCH.

We NEVER prepare for Sunday meals, which I say I'm going to do EVERY Sunday because EVERY Sunday I look in my cabinets and fridge and think, "hmm... we've nothing to eat." But Sunday we looked in the fridge and "YAY! Left over CHILI!" (It didn't even matter that I have been eating on that chili for... TWO weeks (give or take)lunch and dinner. (It tastes good. I didn't make it. A lovely man from my church made it for the missionaries and they took a bunch to their apartment and brought us the rest because they didn't want it to spoil. There are some perks to renting to the missionaries!)).

ANYWAY- Starling said he would do the honors of "preparing lunch" (which consisted of spooning chili into a bowl and pressing buttons on the microwave). WELL THIS is what HAPPENED.

Just the chip in the bowl happened innitially before the chili was even HOT in the middle... so then Starling leaves the chili in the same bowl and HEATS it AGAIN. Notice the metal object IN the bowl... YES. THAT IS A SPOON that Starling left in the bowl on the second go round. He tried to hide this little fact when he removed it from the microwave as he caught sight of it flickering in there... but my raven eyes detected his secrecy and I SNAPPED a photo for evidence that HE, TOO, can not opperate the microwave and THEREFORE needs to stop hounding me for all my cooking blunders. (THOSE are for another blog entireley. I'm not trying to stay up all not busting on myself).

We went and spent a bit of time with my parents and ate a yummy dinner at their house... (I guess that they must sustain us because I never cook...) and then we returned home. Of course, when it was time to climb into bed, something was left in Starling's car. "Starling, you HAVE to go get my scriptures." So he drug himself out of the bed and wasn't at all thrilled about it, either. To brighten up his mood, I hopped up too. I then hid in the laundry room and waited for him to pass so I could scare the poop out of him. He finally came back in and turned the lights off in the family room. NOW in comPLETE dark, I waited for him to get right in front of the laundry room and barked like a rabid dog. He jumped (I'm guessing three feet... again... it was dark)and got to skippin as he threw my scriptures at my face. Remember. I'm a professional and you should practice on children before trying this at home. I caught the scriptures with both my hands before they plastered my nose into my brain and laughed it up. Poor dear. Starling NEVER thinks its funny. (But he didn't fall asleep during scripture study FOR ONCE).

MONDAY
Well, Mondays are ALWAYS exciting because we do FHE (Family Home Evening). (It is another MORMON thing). Basically we have a prayer, song, lesson, fun activity, treat of sorts, and whatever else as a FAMILY. Starling and I have just started implementing this in our home as just a THREE of us family. We were doing it with all of our married couple friends until we all started shooting out kids like rabbits and the little bunnies grew up big enough to talk and be disruptive. So now we are all doing it in our homes. I was in charge of the lesson. (You know... so that we have one.. we actually have a FHE board that has all of our names on it and we are supposed to take turns.. but since Brooklyn ALWAYS gets to do the prayer... I somehow get to do the other six things listed on the board). I prepared a lesson for Starling and me from a church magazine where the Apostles spoke on different topics. I selected "Tell Me the Stories of Jesus" by Elder Neil L Anderson and "Mothers Teaching Children in the Home" By Elder L. Tom Perry. The two talks beautifully describe the sacred nature of parenthood and the importance of teaching our children about the Savior in our home and not depending on church or school leaders to do it for us. My favorite part of Neil L Anderson's talk is when he asks parents, "Are the life and teachings of Jesus Christ embedded in the minds and souls of our children? Do they think about the Savior's life when they wonder what to do with their own lives?...Do they see their own willingness to serve as folling His example?... Do our children say, "Tell me the stories of Jesus I love to hear?"" (Its like a whole page of amazing questions that absolutely touched my heart because "I" myself need to "KNOW" those things and I want nothing more than my children to know of the love of their Savior). I had Starling read parts of it and I am nearly in tears over my thoughts on the subject and I ask Starling to share HIS thoughts. "I think... that is really good." (I could have smacked him upside the head with the Ensign!!).

And for Brooklyn I prepared a lesson from her book of Bible stories and we started at the very beginning when God created the world and Adam and Eve. We are reading from that book at night so I didn't want to "JUST" read. I got her solo dude barbie and one of her girl barbies and a bunch of her stuffed animals. I created a little "Garden of Eden" and had Brooklyn put each animal in the "garden" and name them. I told her how God created all the animals and then the first man, "ADAM." (So naturally her dude barbie is now called adam and the blond barbie wearing a princess dress that is TALLER than the ADAM doll is now EVE, or as Brooklyn says Evesie). I went through the whole story and she stayed pretty attentive.

For our activity we sang some of Brooklyn's FAVORITE songs that deal with the Savior, including "Jesus Wants Me for a Sun Beam" which we sang NO LIE 14 times. Brooklyn crouches down low and JUMPS as high as she can every time sun BEAM is said. And EVERYTIME we finished she'd squeal, "AGAIN!!!" And Starling made blueberry pancakes for our yummy dinner/treat. AND he did the dishes!! (which gave him about a thousand brownie points after his fabulous INPUT in my lesson!!) YAY! I only had to do FIVE THINGS!!

It was then bedtime, so we brushed our teeth and Brooklyn decided to get REALLy hyper. She was saying, "TATCH me, Mommy!! NO NO STOP IT!!" and giggling as I chased her down the hall on my hands and knees. She would run to the kitchen, squeal, run down the hall back to my bedroom, SQUEAL, and run down the hall again. OVER and OVER. Naturally, I can't do this for long because I'm a cow, not a frolicky dog, SOOO I just started taking two steps after her and then one... and then I hid in the hallway by her room where she can't see me as she bolts down the hallway to my bedroom. She was squealing and running to where she THOUGHT I was and as she past me I jumped out and said, "GOT YOU!!" She screamed and took off sideways and the poor kid ran SMACK into the door frame. Her little forehead had a red knot right in the center of it. She hobbled backwards, and of course I'm feeling bad through my snickering, and she busts out laughing and says, "MOMM-AAAY... You SKEEERED ME!!!" and then takes off running to play that game again. (She is such a tough little cut of meat! Probably bc I am so uncoordinated and tend to veer left when I walk. That is also the hip I carry her on. She is ALWAYS getting run into something. My left shoulder has a permanent dent and bruise).Oh... and where is Starling during all of this? Well the dear boy has passed out in the family room after (or during) our closing prayer.

I finally get the little wound up bundle into bed and tried to get her to lie down. She says, "MOMMAY!" And I say, "Yes, ma'am?" She exclaims, "Gotta read pistures and prayers!" I was thinking in my head... we just did that for TWO HOURS!! but... my little doll is OCD and quite the consistency police, SOOOOOOO we prayed for about the hundreth time that day and read our scriptures. Then she went right to sleep, content with her nightly ritual.

Tuesday
AND TODAY was quite normal. I went to Zumba at 9a.m. and took Brooklyn with me. (Our sweet Tammy McGee teaches it for free at our church Tues and Thurs). NOW... ZUMBA is a sight to see. I love all our ladies up there from the young to the well seasoned and all shapes and sizes; we get out there and DANCE! (although an onlooker may not be able to recognize it as such...) I don't know my left from my right so probably only one side of me ever gets worked out, but believe you me... I left feeling THE BURN! I was shakin things I didn't know I had. Poor Brighton probably thought he was in an earthquake... or an offbeat blender. (I'm just pre-training him to sleep through anything). And of course Brooklyn decided she wanted to be HELD instead of playing with the 50 other kids up there towards the end and kept trying to hold my legs in place while I attempted to bounce around her. So I ended up holding her, which she thought was QUITE the ride as I continued skipping and hopping. Hopefully, she'll get used to me doing Zumba and find some alternate entertainment for the two hours a week I need ME time!

OMGEEZ... its past 11 and I have to get up at the crack of dawn to pack for Chic Filet. We are going on one of our GRAND OPENINGS where we'll get a year supply of Chic Filet. This one is only 3 hours away in West Monroe Lousianna. (After going to FOUR... we are almost completely out of our coupons and have to renew our stash). WISH US LUCK!! Only the first 100 get it. WE've been lucky so far! (except when we drove ten hours to north carolina and they had a 150 people there already. ERRRRR...) But this one should be okay... we're going early to be on the safe side! I'll let you know how it goes!

Stereotypes

Let's face it... stereotypes usually derive from some truth, which is why its nearly impossible to get people to QUIT stereotyping. Yes. Most old people drive slow. Yes. Most women are hormonal. Yes. Most men don't hang onto their wife's every word. Yes. Mississippians eat a lot of fried food. OTHER stereotypes are just something pulled out of someone's nose. Mississippians DO have teeth... we DO have shoes... and we CAN read and write. (But maybe along time ago that wasn't the case?... I don't know).

I thought it would be fun to dispell or NOT some of my FAVORITE stereotypes. MORMON ones.

*All Mormons have 10 kids. FALSE: some only have 7.
*All Mormon women drive a Mini Van FALSE: some drive surburbans, full sized vans, and small busses
*Mormons are not Christians FALSE: I think God would agree that He gets to hear from me daily (You people think I am detailed on facebook and blog? You should hear my prayers) and in my daily prayers I always give my gratitude for my Savior's infinite atonement and every prayer is dedicated in the name of Jesus Christ. Plus, how many one year olds do you know that can point out a pic of Jesus? (Well all the kids in our nursery certainly can!)
*All Mormon men have more than one wife. FALSE: No members of The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter Day Saints practice polygamy. TOO BAD... if we did I'd have Starling married to a good cook, another wife that enjoyed housework, and one that really liked to have a job and make lots of money.(Starling on the other hand can barely deal with ONE wife).
*All Mormons are brainwashed. HMM: I don't exactly know the definition of brainwashed... being told something over and over again? We do teach the kids from the time they are born to PRAY PRAY PRAY... and to ask for help from their Heavenly Father. We are also repeatedly encouraged to serve our fellow men, to read our scriptures, get our food storage ready, make our homes refuges from the world, steer clear from pornography and any addictive substances... whew... I dunno. But if I'm brainwashed, I want Brooklyn to be brainwashed the same way because it kept me out of a LOT of trouble!!
*All Mormons are weird. TRUE: I prefer being called a "peculiar" person rather than weirdo- BUT tomato, tomotto. Come to think of it... I don't know ANYONE Mormon or not that doesn't fall into the weird category somehow.
*Mormons don't know how to have fun. FALSE: I happen to believe I have some of the MOST fun! (and not just by scaring my husband)And I remember it the next day, have no hang over, and have no regrets!
*Mormons don't drink alcohol, coffee, tea, or use tobacco. TRUE: Health Insurance companies LOVE some Mormons! (and so do our dentists)
*Mormons read more than the Bible. TRUE: We read the King James Bible and the Book of Mormon. The Bible takes place on one side of the continent, where Jesus was born and raised and lived, and the Book of Mormon takes place in the Americas. The Book of Mormon also testifies of Jesus Christ and his birth and resurrection. The two books go hand in hand.
*Mormons are always dressed in white shirts and ties and knock on people's doors. FALSE and TRUE: All worthy young men are asked to serve a two year mission at the age of nineteen. They are not paid for their service. In fact, young men save up money all through high school so that they can pay for their mission. They are sent all over the world sharing a message about Jesus Christ and his restored gospel. But the rest of the men and women just where normal clothes.
*Mormons believe in prophets. TRUE: We believe the Bible accounts of all the prophets. We also believe in MODERN day revelation, which simply means, we don't believe that our Father in Heaven left us without direction in todays world of computers, pornography, cell phones, etc. (ALL of which did not exist in Bible or Book of Mormon times). That is the MAIN thing that sets Mormons apart from other religions. We believe that the Church of Jesus Christ was restored to the earth in the same form that Jesus formed it when He was on the earth. We have a prophet and 12 apostles just like He originally set up.
*Mormons worship Joseph Smith. FALSE: We believe he was a prophet in more recent times, the prophet who translated the Book of Mormon from its original language through the power of God. We are grateful for his faithfulness and endurance through all the tribulation he faced, but we do not esteem him as an equal to Jesus or God. We do not pray to him. Believing that he was truly a prophet of God is important in our religion, though. Because, if he wasn't a prophet, then he couldn't have translated the Book of Mormon, could not have had the keys of the priesthood restored to the church, and therefore... we wouldn't have The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter Day Saints.
*Mormons exist all over the world. TRUE: A neat fact about our church, which is unlike most all other churches, is that you can go to a Mormon church in Oak Grove, MS and the next week to one in Africa and the same doctrines will be taught from the same lesson manual.
*Mormons don't get paid to serve. TRUE: We do not pay a preacher, teachers, or in most cases custodians. We have a Bishop who is called to serve a ward, free of charge. We then have music directors, pianists, Sunday school teachers, missionaries, etc. that are asked to serve and it is a freely given service (except for all the blessings we recieve!) Members are released from one calling and called to other callings based on the inspiration recieved from diligent prayer. We take turns cleaning our building and donating our time for service projects.
*Mormons pay 10% of everything they make to the church. TRUE: We pay a 10% tithe which goes to pay for the buildings lights and any maintenance needed, new church buildings, etc. and is used not only in OUR area but in places where money is scarce like Africa, Mexico, Haiti, etc. We also pay a fast offering which maintains food for those in need of food and monetary needs for those needing living assistance for both members of our church and those of our communities all over the world.

If you have more Mormon stereotypes to add or have heard feel free to comment! I'll answer them to the best of my ability. You can also visit LDS.ORG to see exactly what Mormons believe and are being taught. You can spy on our Prophet and his twelve apostles by clicking on Conference Talks. And if you are curious and comfortable with inviting people into your home, get those 19 year old boys into your living room and ask them what Mormons believe. They come from all over the world to share their testimony. Afterall, you don't have to BE Mormon to know what a Mormon believes... But you should definitely ask a MORMON what he or she believes not a person from a different religion. I wouldn't ask a heart surgeon advice on my plumbing or a plumber to give me heart surgery. It's sad how many preachers are devoting hours they could be teaching of Christ to teaching falsehoods about Mormons. I don't see how that benefits members of their church or the community. And Mormons love our Christian neighbors! We are on the same team! We want to stand as a united front against Satan and his wicked media tactics. As Christians we should be helping each other fight to preserve our constitution and protect the family, not fight each other. And for all my non-Mormon friends who are praying for my soul... THANK YOU! (sincerely)! And pray for my family, too! I love that we pray for each other, because we are all brother and sisters and that is what family is for!

The Attack!

My sweet Brooklyn is OBSESSED with balloons. We go to WAl-MART and she exclaims "BUH-LOON!!" from the minute we walk INTO the store and yells, "BYE-BYE BUH-LOON!!" all the way OUT of the store. (A little trick I learned to keep her from wanting to take them home with her... "This is the balloons home! Its where his mommy and daddy is. Tell him bye bye!") But every now and again she'll end up getting a balloon, usually from Chic Filet.

Charkley, our precious little peek-a-poo pup, is NOT obsessed with balloons. On the contrare... The poor thing is scared of EVERYTHING... vaccuums, his toys touching the wall, his food bowl (because his name tag dinged into it and rattled). And balloons? TOP of his TERROR list.

ME? I'm not afraid of balloons. I'm not obsessed with balloons.

WELL- this is all good background info for the EVENT that took place a bit ago in my bedroom.

We have a king size bed, which we fill to the max with Brooklyn, who sleeps sideways, Starling who sleeps spread out, me, who sleeps squished like a sardeen in the middle with Charkley on my head, Brooklyn kicking me, and Starling draping his ENORMOUS legs over me. Needless to say... my sleep isn't the soundest. Plus I have to untangle myself about six times a night to go PEE with Brighton's, the kid in my tummy, new position of ONLY sitting on my bladder.

Well a bit ago we went through our nightly ritual, family prayers (where Brooklyn prays for EVERYTHING her little peeping eyes can spy in the room and anything she remembers hearing about during the day), family scripture study (where I read, Starling tries to keep his eyes open and Brooklyn exclaims "WANT ANGDER FACE!" everytime I mention that the people were angry or angered. And she does it for any OTHER word she reconizes... arms, heart, strong, lifted up, etc... so a chapter a night takes a good LONG time).. I was yawning through the last versus because the time was past 11:00 p.m. and I was dying of exhaustion. Starling was already snoring and Brooklyn's eyes were drooping like a Bassett Hounds. But when I tried to lay down, Brooklyn wanted her BALLOON to sleep with. I don't choose too many battles at bed time because I just want to SLEEP, so I gave her the Chic Filet balloon that still had enough helium to float, but not enough to reach the ceiling anymore.

Brooklyn and I yawned through our goodnight songs and I told Brooklyn to tell the balloon night-night because it has to sleep in the corner. Surprisingly she did so and the three humans crashed. Charkley made his way to his position on top of my head and he too drifted off.

I fell into a pretty hard sleep, which is a rare treat for me. But I woke up because Charkley was making the strangest gurgling sound right into my ear. It sounded like a whimper, bark, growl, pained noise. I thumped him, trying to get him to hush. He whined a little louder. So then I groaned and peeked through a slit of my eye. The bedroom was completely black except for the outline of a man walking towards me.

Both of my eyes shoot open, my blood turns cold, and I try to sit up but I'm trapped under Starling's logs he calls legs. Just as I realize I'm trapped and I can't scream for help because my voice won't work, the air kicks on and the man RUNS at me! I squeal and start punching out as hard as I can, trying to shred the intruders face with my fingernails, knowing I'm the only one who can save my family because Starling is in a coma and my dog is probably peeing on my pillow behind me.

I hit the face, but it keeps coming back at me. My heart is thudding so loud I start to think a heart attack may be what kills me instead of this thug trying to attack me in my sleep.

And then I get tangled up in... in... string? And all at once I realize I am fighting Brooklyn's pink Chic Filet balloon. I try to punch Starling awake and tell him what just happened because my adrenaline totally makes sleep impossible. He moans and moves his leg off me, assuming that's why I am punching him. Then I put the balloon in a different room,(though I did consider trying to make it attack Starling first).

So maybe Karma is out to get me... I don't know... but I will admit I can sympathize with my chicken, I mean dog, more now.