Getting Junk Done

I have had a couple things change my life lately.  For real.  And by "lately" I mean within the past couple of weeks.  

So I'm going to share with you, because maybe they will change your life too.  Or not.  Whatever.  

The first is an app that my Genius-Friend-Heather told me about over iced coffees.  Good things come over iced coffees.  It's called 

Chore Monster.

So I linked to the website, but I actually got it in the app store (free) and use it from my phone.  The kids use it from their kindle/ipad/etc.  It's super easy to set up, and seriously...the 10 year old and even the 12 year old are ASKING TO DO MORE CHORES.  I'm not even kidding.  

You can set up rewards, short term and/or long term.  When they do a chore, it sends you a message and you can approve the chore if they actually did it.  The amazing thing is, it has taken out all the nagging that was previously involved in our chore life.  I don't know if it's because it's easy to use, or fun, or motivating because they can see the numbers, but dude.  It works.  Also, our house is clean.  And the van is clean.  And the yard and garage are pretty decent too because my kids are apparently highly motivated by sugary treats and REWARDS.  

Lucy is 5, and I help her navigate it on my phone.  I made one of her chores "Staying in Bed when you are tucked in so that Mommy doesn't lose her mind."  And this week:  stayed in bed.  *hallelujah*   

This little app has made us all like each other better.  And things are clean.  Happily Ever After.

The other thing that has changed my life is Clean Mama.  

I first found her on Instagram as cleanmama.  She has chores broken down into the simplest of routines.  And on Instagram she puts a cute little reminder out each day about what she's doing.  I followed her all winter and spring, without ever actually joining in on her process.  Because sometimes (mostly all the time) I like the idea of being really organized, while actually just being a procrastinator.   

But a month or so ago I printed off one of her free lists, and then after staring at it for a couple weeks, I actually started it.  

It's the best thing ever for me.  

I'm kind of a cleaner.  Junk all over makes me feel claustrophobic and so I'm constantly picking up.  But my brain is squirrel-ish and I get distracted easily, so no one task ever felt completely done, even though I was working on stuff allll the live long day.  Clean Mama's simple system and easy list keeps me on track and my squirrel-brain has decided it's totally do-able.  

Here's a simple breakdown, but check out her website because she explains it better and in more detail.  And it works, I swear.

Mondays- bathrooms (but not floors, because that's on Thursdays)
Tuesday - Dust
Wednesday - vacuum all floors, top to bottom
Thursday - Wash hard floors
Friday- Catch up on stuff
Saturday - Towels and Sheets 

It's kept me on task, and helped me do some of the stuff that I usually put off for so long that when I do have to do it, it's super disgusting and makes me want to scream.  (the boys bathroom, for instance)  This week when I did the bathroom, it wasn't so bad.  I mean still gross...but whatever.

With the kids doing chores, and Clean Mama's system, I feel like things are manageable.  Not perfect, but good enough.  And that helps. A ton.

And for the record, I don't work outside the home.  Kudos to the Mom's who do.  You're amazing.  And deserve a cleaning lady.  So my recommendation for you, is Chore Monster and a cleaning lady.  Because that's what I would do. ;)

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You & Me Day

Dear Lucy,

I love your four-year-old self.  I especially love you on Fridays.  You've deemed our Fridays together as "You & Me Day."  Because it's just you and me, kid.


No preschool.  No brothers.  No other kids.  Not even Daddy.


It's lovely.  I hope desperately that your little 4 1/2 year old heart will remember these days.  The trips to Target.  And Starbucks.  And Culver's (which you call Clovers.)  I want desperately to remember them too...thus the blog.

I hope we both remember how I bribed you with the promise of a toy at Target, in order to get you to wear your new pink fuzzy boots, even though "they bug you," because all new shoes bug you.  

And I hope we both remember how it took you f-o-r-e-v-e-r to choose something for your bribe.  And that you came home with a Hello Kitty back-pack/purse thing and Hello Kitty lip gloss.  And Doc McStuffin's band-aids.  


Today you watched me get my hair cut, and then my *favorite stylist of all time* even braided your hair.  And as you looked at your pretty face in her mirror, you smiled so big.  I wish I could bottle that up so that every time you looked at your beautiful self in a mirror it made you smile like that.  Because no matter what, you are always that beautiful to me.

And then we went to the cupcake store.  Where you insisted we eat it there, and not take it home.  Good call, Lu.  

And then I promised you "Mc-N-Donald's" only to drive in the parking lot and leave because it was a total mad-house.  Instead I fed you a quarter pounder and fries from the gas station.  (you're likely going to grow up with a deep love for sugar.  And fries.  I'll own that, it came from me.)

And when we finally get home, and unload the van, it's usually time to get your boys from school.  And our You & Me day is done...until next Friday.

I love Fridays.  And I love you.  May we make Target and Starbucks and Fast Food trips together always.  

Hugs and Kisses (which you'll wipe off),

Mom

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Remember the Crazy

Last Wednesday it was about 7:10 PM and I was laying on the couch feeling pretty pleased with myself.  After all,  I'd gotten an email the prior week, from my oldest two boys' baseball coach indicating that our game for the night was rescheduled.  A free night.  *Sigh* They're pretty hard to come by.  So, I'd sent the boys over to prayer meeting with their Pastor/Dad while Lucy and I spent some quiet alone time at home.  

And then I got a text from a number I didn't recognize.

"Are you on your way to the game?" They asked.  Feeling pretty smart, I replied back something like "Nope, game rescheduled."

To which the number replied "That's next weeks game."

My bad.  

The game was scheduled to start in 5 minutes in a town about 10 miles away.  I jumped off the couch, ran the 27 steps to interrupt church in order to grab my 3 boys (2 of which are on the team.  The team functions with only one extra player, they sorta need them)

The boys (and my husband were super confused.)  As they get in the house I'm frantically telling them to get their baseball stuff on because MOM WAS WRONG AND THE GAME IS STARTING NOW!  

From there, chaos ensued.  

Mad dashing from upstairs to downstairs trying to find uniforms and cups and cleats and belts and socks and gloves and hats.  Tears were involved.  We couldn't find one boys jersey, he ended up wearing a blue football t-shirt (close enough) and no belt. 

As we drove down the highway (a leeetle faster than the speed limit) I apologized to the boys and tried to give them a little pep talk that it was going to be fine, no biggie that they were arriving a full inning late.  They weren't exactly convinced, but at least we weren't yelling at each other anymore and we were almost there.

As we pulled into town, I headed down the road that leads to the Little League diamond.  And that's where I passed the cop.  The cop I only noticed as our eyes met as we passed each other on the road.  And I knew.  

He drove a few blocks passed me, and then turned into a driveway.  "He's gonna pull me over," I said to the boys.

Silence. And flashing lights.

I pull over, and by the time the nice officer gets to my window I have my insurance and license ready for him.  I also have one boy who's in tears, and the other one giggling in the back.  If you know them in real life, you know which one is which. ;)  

I quickly confessed that I knew I was going too fast and apologized.  I'm pretty sure I blabbed about forgetting their game and now we were late blah blah blah.  A quick peak inside my messy mini van with four kids must have been enough to garner some sympathy.  

"I'm not giving you a ticket M'am, please slow down next time. I do need to go back to my car and log your information."

As he heads back to his car, I notice/remember that I'm am almost out of gas..unless fumes count.  I had meant to get it the day before and then decided to procrastinate til tomorrow, because I had no where to be "tomorrow."  Pffff. It's at this point that I wonder aloud if I should ask the officer to follow me to the diamond.  My oldest wasn't sure what would be worse, running out of gas or having a police escort.

I decided to gamble and try to make it.  Which we did.  

"We're like an episode of The Middle" one of the boys said.

He's right.  We are.  

As I settled in at the game, I decided to text Ben and let him know what all the chaos was about and to tell him to come (with a gas can) as soon as he could because I was seriously doubtful my trusty van could make it any further.  I couldn't get a hold of him.  Finally he called from our home phone and said he had lost his cell, but he would be coming with gas shortly.

What I didn't know til after I'd hung up my phone was that the game was almost over.  

In the end, we won the game by one run.  And my oldest pitched the last inning and struck all three batters out.  And, with friends following in their vehicles, we made it to the gas station and then home.  And Ben eventually figured out we must have made it home okay. ;)  By the end of the night, we had found his cell phone and all was right with the world.  Out little world anyways.

We learned a few lessons in the crazy.  Mainly, I should pay more attention to details in emails from coaches.  And not put off getting gas.  Or speed.  All of which I'm likely to repeat in the future...but the best part about it was to be able to laugh at it afterwards.  Sometimes the crazy is a good way to bond.  




this picture is not from the crazy day.  just a different day when I was annoying them with selfies.

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Will

I was just about to write a new facebook status update when I thought STOP don't waste that on a status update; blog that baby where you can actually read it again someday.

That was likely an unfortunate use of a semi-colon.  Sadly, I could never quite figure those things out, so instead I use commas, and {... }and stuff.  But I now figure, that either way I'm probably getting it wrong, so why not just throw out a semi-colon every now and then too.  Awesome.

I was thinking...that parenting Lucy is like parenting a tiny, blonde version of myself.  She is three, but sister knows what she wants.  And how and when and where she wants it.  Her will is solid steel.  She has an opinion on everything.  It's exhausting to be her mom.  Not a bad exhausting, but exhausting none the less.  Because in parenting her, I don't want to break her will, but rather re-direct it.  I want to help her understand and learn how to live under authority, while still maintaining her own uniqueness.  

I know first hand the complications a strong-will can bring. But I also know, the benefits.  A strong will, that is lined up with God's will, is a force to be reckoned with.   

And lined up with Him, is the cry of my heart for both Lucy and I.  

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A Birth Story Eleven Years Old

My middlest child turns 11 today.  This morning I dug out his baby photo albums, like I do on all their birthdays, and reminisced.  

About how time flies and goes slow all at the same time.  About how young, and naive Ben and I looked in the pictures.  About how 2002 was indeed the year of the overalls, every person in every picture is sporting a pair.

Eli was not "planned" by us.  His older brother was just 6 months old when we found out I was pregnant.  We lived a state away from our family, Ben was still in seminary, money was tight, schedules were tight, and I was not ready to go through the whole pregnancy and delivery thing again just yet.

As my three year old Lucy would say:  I freaked out.

I cried for two weeks.  I simply could not see any way that this was going to work out well.  This was not in my plan.  Only things I could handle were in my plan.  Hello self pity.

I remember being completely annoyed with my husband for not freaking out.  "It will be fine!"  "It's in God's plan!" should have brought comfort...but his blind faith seemed to just annoy me.  Certainly, he only was only being positive because he wasn't considering all the implications (for me) that were involved. Hello self pity.  Again.

I was embarrassed to tell people our news.  I mean, what kind of *idiots* have another baby when they already have a baby!  Us.  That's who.

I could write a thousand pages on the ways, big and itty bitty that God worked out the details for every. single. thing.  God showed me that from where I was, yeah...it looked pretty impossible.  But my view was so tiny, and so limited and so...wrong.  

Whenever I start feeling overwhelmed in a life situation, I've often take my heart back to those early days of finding out I was pregnant.  Because I remember that hopeless feeling.  That overwhelmed feeling.  That hard place.  And now I know, what I didn't really know then...that if I really want to see how big my God is, then I need to look at the impossible things with anticipation.  Because the impossible is right where God works.  And sometimes the hard, impossible stuff, is the best stuff.  Eli was meant to be, and his timing was not wrong...mine was.  He was and everyday is an incredible, amazing gift to our family.  We are not us, without him.  

I'll never forget September 27, 2002. (who doesn't love a  birth story?)

I had gone into my Dr. in the morning, in was a Friday just like today.  She stripped my membranes and said if I didn't go into labor on my own then I was scheduled to be induced on Monday.  I was cool with the Monday thing.  Mostly because then I was sure to get my epidural in time.  (My then 16 month old had been almost 10 pounds...no way I was doing that without drugs.)

The rest of the day went on as usual.  By early evening I started noticing some contractions, and started writing them down...but it didn't seem like "real" labor.  Ben worked until early evenings, so I talked to him around 7ish and asked if he would bring home a take-n-bake pizza.   

At some point the contractions must have gotten close enough together that I called the hospital just to see what they thought.  I remember the nurse saying to just take a warm bath, that it would help me relax and likely stop the contractions.  

Turns out the bath made them worse.  Much worse.  Ben got home and somehow managed to bake the pizza and eat while I got dressed.  My Aunt and Uncle were planning on keeping Noah for us while we were at the hospital.  The hospital was a half hour away from us, so the plan was for them to meet at our apartment to get him.  That night, it just so happened that they were with their family at the circus.  Ha.  They left the circus and met us at our apartment.  I could only walk in between contractions.  I remember the elevator ride in our apartment building seemed like it lasted for.ev.er. I had never experienced full fledged contractions before. 

It felt like a scene from a movie.  Ben drove like a crazy man to the hospital and I remember yelling at him not to do that, and then yelling at him to hurry up and get there.  He couldn't win.

He wheeled me inside and tried to find someone to get me where I needed to be.  It felt like it took days, but it was probably only 10 minutes.  They put me in an exam room to check me.  I kept telling them to call the anestesiologist, because I knew that it sometimes took them awhile to get there.  

The nurse checked me and said she had good news and bad news.  The "good" news was that I was fully dilated, and the baby was coming.  The bad news was no epidural.  

I wanted to die.  I am and never was one who thought experiencing child-birth without drugs seemed like a good idea.  Ever.  

They rushed me to the delivery room, and literally held the Eli's head in until the Dr. could get the scrubs on.  They kept saying "Don't push!" Yeah right.  My body was pushing all on it's own.

And Eli was born!  We had arrived at the hospital at 11:00 PM and he was born at 11:39 PM.  It was a blur.  We didn't know if we should call people and tell them the news, since it was so late.  I think we called our parents and then waited until morning to make the rest of the calls.

And just like that he was here.  And I, in fact, did survive without an epidural. But that was the last time I did it the "natural" way...I'll take the needle in my back any day.  ;)

Story Break:  I finished this part of my post on Friday the 27th, Eli's birthday.  I didn't hit publish before heading out to meet a friend for coffee.  During coffee, my oldest called from school with the flu.  By the time I got to the school, it had hit me too.  And by evening, my husband was knocked out with it too.  So Eli spent his 11th birthday with a bunch of sickies.  And in genuine Eli style, he took it all in stride.  Laid-back, no big deal, roll with the punches.  I love that kid.  I have so much to learn from him. So, it is now October 3rd, and I'm hitting publish.  



 Happy Birthday Buddy! Love you!

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And She's Off...

Dear Lucy,

You had your first day of three year old preschool...almost two weeks ago.  I would have gotten to this post sooner, but you require a lot of energy to keep up with. Cleaning-up after you is literally my full-time job.  I know it means you're all kinds of genius.  

You had been so excited to go.  You even let me talk you into wearing the new bird dress...which is a feat for me.  You are highly opinionated on your fashion choices, a characteristic we both know comes from me.  Now, not only do I have to continue to harness my own will, but yours...and ours.  Tricky stuff.

You wanted me to stay with you.  No tears were shed though...just a stubborn expression on your sweet little face.  Your teacher knew just how to distract you so I could slip out.  And you were fine.  And I was fine.

She said you were her shadow, and she knew you were trying to figure out if you liked that place or not.  And you did like it. So very much. 

"I'm a big girl"  you keep telling me.  And I smile, because you are kind of a tiny old-soul in a little body with a blonde bob.  And I love you.

My prayer for you, my sweet little lulu, is that you allow God to use that independent spirit for His glory.   

Love,

Me

And this is the one where your brother photo-bombed.  Typical day.

 

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It's Good...

It's the first day of school here in tiny town.  You can't see me, but if you could:  I can't stop smiling.  And clapping and jumping up and down.

The kids were pretty happy too.  The truth is, we all know we need some structure and routine that involves more than annoying each other and Mincecraft.

Sixth. Fifth. Second.  

And Little Miss Lu will start 3 year old preschool on Friday.  

Maybe I should be sadder than I am.  But this stage in parenting is pretty neat.  And fairly enjoyable.  And while I'm sure the hardest years are still ahead of us (hello puberty)...the years are meant to come.  These kiddos are meant to grow and live life.  I mean, I'm sure I was a pretty rad 12 year old, but I'm pretty dang glad to have not stayed there.  So are my parents.

It's a gift to watch them grow.  It's a gift I'm not guaranteed or promised.  So, with each moment they grow, I'm going to embrace it the best I can.  And pray like crazy for God's grace to cover and fill and seep into every nook and cranny of all our lives.

And celebrate it with a venti iced caramel macchiato.  And two cake-pops.

Whatever.

And for the record:  I was a total rock-star mom today.  Got up early, made a healthy breakfast, remembered the First Day Photo shoot.  If only I could bottle me up to use again tomorrow...because it's likely that version of myself only shows up on First Days.

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She's Like the Weather

On Tuesday this week it was 80 degrees out.  Today is Thursday, May 2nd and we have a Winter Weather Advisory until 6PM.  Get with the program Iowa, May is your redeeming month of the year.  

I don't care how many theories there are on global warming, I live in Iowa and it's May and IT IS SNOWING.  So yes, I mock you global warming. 



 On another note, Lucy has been crabtastic since the moment she woke up.  Crying and whining...non stop.  I had one of those really great parenting moments where I said "STOP CRYING!"  which of course made her cry and cry and cry some more.  And then, for a moment,  I sort of wished I worked outside the home so I could get her dressed and drop her off at the babysitters. 

I'm kidding.  It was waaaay longer than a moment that I thought on that idea.  Because there are days and moments where I want to trade one set of trials for a new set of trials...

But either way, there will be trials.  

So today I will endure the endless whining, and tantrum throwing.  The demands, the time-outs, and the potty training.  Because in between all that, she crawls up next to me and says, "Mom, I loooooove you."  and "I snuggle you" and "Mom, your hair is crazy."  

She's right, my hair is crazy.  

And tomorrow...she'll likely pop out of that bed with smiles and giggling.  





Her moods change like Iowa's weather.    

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A "Present"

Yesterday Lucy was upstairs by herself (which is never a good idea) so I called up to see what she was doing.

She ran out of her brother's bedroom (again, never good) and proclaimed "I'm making you a present!"  

How sweet, I thought.  

"Lucy, can you come downstairs and make my present?" I asked, in a weak attempt to get her downstairs.

She smiled sweetly and exclaimed "Yes!"  

I was surprised at her eagerness because usually I have to go up and chase her down.  As she reached the bottom of the stairs, I could smell her stinky diaper.  I said, "Lucy you're stinky!" and she smiled...

and pointed to her bottom and said "A present for you!"  

Nice.

It's my own fault.  Every time Ben is home, and I smell a dirty diaper (because I always smell it first)  I say to him, "Lucy has a present for you!"  My snarky wit has caught up with me.

I probably deserved that present.

And I should probably make myself start potty training her.  Dude, I hate potty training.

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Holding On While Letting Go

Two.  

It's a little bizarre, realizing how fast two years can wiz by.  I'm realizing I deal differently with Lucy growing up, versus the three boys growing up.  At each of the boys birthdays, I get a little sentimental...a little sad that they are growing.  Which is dumb, I know, because the are meant to grow.  It is a gift to watch them grow, but in the growing is also a knowing that with each year that passes they become a little less mine, and a little closer to becoming someone else's.  

And that's a good thing.  A beautiful plan...that those little boys are growing (so very fast) and becoming young men...handsome young men, who will one day capture the heart of a girl.  And though that young girl won't replace me, she will take over that young mans heart, the heart that now belongs to his mama alone.  

I think that's what makes being a mama to boys so very special, so unique.  

With Lucy, it's different.  It seems easier for me to approach each stage with a simple joy.  With each new crazy thing she does, it's just fun to watch her.  

I love her two year old self...but I don't long for it to last.  I didn't feel weepy over how fast it's going.  Instead, I can just enjoy her...and even anticipate what's to come as she grows.  As a girl, I know that our relationship as mother and daughter will deepen so very much.  I mean, after all, I'm a pretty great grown-up-daughter friend!  I'm sure I'm way more fun than when I was two!  

Lord willing, Lucy will grow up into a beautiful young woman...and a handsome young man will capture her heart someday, just like her daddy did to mine.  And when I think about that, I smile.  Which is funny, because when I think about girls capturing my boys...It's more of a furrowing of the brow, that crosses my face.  


Anyways.  You see the difference.  


With Lucy, I don't have that sense of her "slipping" away from me as she grows.  (Poor Ben will have to deal with that one. ;)  And as I watch parents around me, who have children who are grown, I realize that parenting is always about enjoying the moment, and of holding on while letting go.

I am so thankful for these four amazing little people that God has created from Ben and I.  Please God, help us survive the teenage years that will approach far too soon...and please help Lucy not to have a sassy mouth like her mother.  Amen.

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Almost Two...

Lucy has been a little gem the past few days.  I'm even saying that without a hint of sarcasm.  Sweet, and cute, and pretty compliant for a nearly two-year-old. Last week...she was the opposite of that.

For real.  Oh, she was still cute and all, but man alive she was killin' me with attitude and whining and whining and WHINING.  Everything was a battle.  I found myself questioning how I had ever survived the toddler years before.  And with my first two children, they were toddlers at the same time.  I must have blocked most of that out, because I look back on it fondly. Even the things that made me crazy at the time.

Things like them digging the poo out of their diapers and wiping it on walls, cribs, toys, carpets...the list goes on.  The training, and warning and disciplining...the crying...by all of us.  Good times.  

Lucy's girlie craziness is a whole other ball game though.  The dramatics are insane.  All you mothers of more than one girl...hats off to you!   The battle of the wills began.  Victory was mine.  Right now I'm relishing in it...before the next battle begins.

She has her own will.  Her own agendas.

She looks like her daddy...but that attitude, that determination...that love for Windex...that's from me.

Mood swings.  And tantrums.  

Some days, when the whining never ends, and my patience wears thin...I keep reminding myself...it's someday gonna be really, really entertaining.


Even today, as I watch this, it's funny.  It wasn't so much on that day.  Time brings perspective.


Sister loves her some salsa.  

Oh Lucy.  You make me smile.  And pull my hair out.  And smile again.  

I told you...it was quite the day.  I love that little toe sucker. ;)

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Guilty

The Crime:  

Right boot

Left boot

The Weapon:  Dry erase marker








The Guilty Party:

Her brother left the marker upstairs.  We forgot to gate the stairs.  Really, she's a victim of her circumstances.


Plus, she's cute.  That helps.


When Ben discovered the boots and brought them downstairs, I couldn't help but just shake my head.  By the 4th child, I've learned that nothing is sacred from the devastating effect of the marker. And let's be honest...Uggs are for comfort over fashion anyways.  I'm still wearing them.  Now they just have character. ;)

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For the Love of Glitter

Three boys.

And then a girl.

Totally entertaining for me. 

I've heard Dr. Phil say many times, that the most influential person in a child's life is the parent of the same sex.  Our family would be text book Dr. Phil on that point.  

My boys love me.  But they most definitely do not want to be like me.  From the time they were little, they were mimicking daddy...regardless of the fact that they spent all day long with me.  

I'm cool with that.  

Lucy is a whole other story.  She says words in the same tone I do.  She looks around for her purse before we head out the door.  She takes care of her babies all day long.  And sister can dust with a diaper wipe, like none other.

And most importantly...she understands that glitter shoes go with everything.

Notice she's talking on her cell.  Multitasking at its finest.

Glitter is a new favorite at our house.  Thank you Target.

I buy Lucy's squeakers at a cute little shop locally.  They're leather and only $15 there!  You can also get them online here.  This is her fourth pair and we obviously love them. :)  (the squeakers can be removed easily too.)


Glitter is the best.


Then End.

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Mood Swings

This is my first experience with a daughter...a toddler daughter.


Two words:  Mood.  Swings.


Ohmyword.


That's pizza on her face.  In case you were wondering.

I got a new camera.  It caught the "drool" in both pictures.  Awesome.

  Happy.  Totally mad.  Happy.  Totally mad.  

Wow.

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Happy Hooligans

Day 6 of  31 Days of Happy.


You know what you do if you're a lazy blogger?  You get tired of linking things.  So today, in honor of my laziness, you'll have to go back to yesterdays post that includes a link to what 31 Days of Happy is, or means, or whatev.


Today I am happy to have hooligans.  


What fun would life be, without the antics of a toddler?

The real question though...how long is it going to take the parsonage family to finally remember that things on the table are no longer safe?  We have dozens of spilled cups to prove we are either slow learners or in complete denial that baby Lucy is actually no longer a baby.  

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Messy-Messerson

I sorta always thought my boys were dirty and grungy looking because, well, they were boys.  And then I had Lucy...


I can't keep this girl clean.  


Before church:

Don't let her big, sweet smile fool you.  She hates that hat.  She rips it off her head immediately.

Sunday night, Ben was putting the boys to bed, and I was sitting on the couch with the laptop...a big red chair obstructing my view of a very quiet 17 month old.

We found why she was so quiet.  We keep forgetting she can reach everything off of the table.  It was a fitting way for her to end the day, since at lunchtime she carried Jake's half-full bowl of chicken tortilla soup over to the shag rug and fed herself in the same manner pictured below.  We're still digging black beans and corn out of the rug.

Maybe our genetics just produce messy kids.  Good thing they're cute.  




PS - Don't forget to go HERE and not only register yourself for a chance to win, but spread the word so that $ can be raised for those precious kids in Africa!  Pretty please.

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New-Do...

Thanks to Jackie at Memories by Design, I have a terrific new blog-do!  YAY!


Apparently, I was so tired of looking at my old one, that I just couldn't blog the month of July. 


Or I've been busy.


Or both.


My kids start school next week...and I don't even care if it makes me sound like a bad mom, but YIPEEEEEE!  


They're ready and I'm ready.  Sort of.  I'll miss them, but they need structure and so do I.  Thank you public school system for providing us with a schedule, because for some reason I just can't do it on my own. 


Until then, I can't hear myself think...


See ya next week. ;)

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Soaking it In...

There are many things I look forward to introducing Lucy to...the list is long.

• Sunglasses should be at least 1/2 the size of your face:  Check

She's a quick study.

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Only Boring People...

Source: piccsy.com via Sarah on Pinterest

I've said this to my children approximately one hundred bajillionity times so far today.


If only they thought I was as clever as I think know I am.


I found this on pinterest.  Of course I did.

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