Thursday, September 29, 2011


Sweet Husband and I got in to an argument the other day.
While most couples argue about important things such as
money, the children, what school district to live in... we argue about much, much more 
important things.

 Sweet husband walked in the door Tuesday afternoon after a hard days work. He hurt his finger at work and had to do a lot of hard manual labor. On top of that he has an allergy mess going on that he lets me know about every 5 to 10 minutes. I had a hard day of moving furniture, touching up paint, moving all of Cullen's clothes into his new room, cleaning out Slaten's closet and taking all the toys and separating them into their new spots in the playroom. I cooked the kids lunch. Dusted and vacuumed the majority of the house. Threw a load in the wash and did the dishes. I kissed boo boos and filled sippy cups 26 times. Held a crying toddler during a tantrum or two. Needless to say.... I did a whole lot.

 So Sweet Husband mentioned that the grass needed to be mowed. Well we all know who does that job..... ME. But Sweet Husband decided he wanted to do it. Then the argument began. 

I'll mow the grass today.

Um, excuse me? I'm sorry I don't think I heard you quite right. Hang on let me set this crying toddler down. You said you were going to get the mower out so I can mow the grass today, correct?

No, I said I was going to mow today. I had a hard day at work and I just want to sit and mow. You know, do some good ole manly yard work. *Side glances at toddler with snot running out of his nose and hand covered in an unknown substance*

But I need the break! You have to let me mow. I mean look at them. I've been with them all day and if I don't get some alone time soon you know my eye will start to twitch. Come on! *Side glances at toddler who is now making an escape because he has figured out how to open the front porch gate.*

Besides you got to sit in quiet and ride home from work. That constitutes as a break! Come on. Hand me the keys. *Reaches out to grab keys*

Well, I'll just start it and then you can finish. *Takes off running to the barn as I say "BUT"*

I sat on the porch and watched him mow. The children were crying because they weren't allowed to run out in front of the mower and I swapped up between pouty face and scowl each time he passed by. He didn't take the hint. He just waved. Eventually I just went and stood in the yard until he got off the mower and then it was my turn! I'm not sure what I'm going to do when the grass stops growing. I guess I'll have to find another "chore" to allow me a break. Maybe I should try my hand at chopping firewood......

Friday, September 23, 2011

Painters Anonymous

I really love to paint....
when I'm not painting that is. 

 I don't know why I do this to myself. I get an idea in my head and then I have to execute it immediately. I refuse to do anything else until my project is complete and well buddy if you're hungry stand in line, so are the children. 
 I recently decided that it would be good to have both boys in one room. That way we could use Cullen's room as a playroom and my living room could be clear of clutter. So in order to make all of this possible I had to repaint Slaten's room. Yes, I HAD to. The furniture refuses to move in until it is all done. If it were up to me I would have moved him in already, but hey the furniture does what it wants to. Okay, lame excuse. It's my fault. I wanted to redo the room. The furniture is actually excited about the move. But moving one child in with another  isn't that simple to me. First I had to mud the strips up in his room, then I had to paint the trim, then I had to sand the walls (which resulted in a dust filled nose and a child covered from head to toe in white powder *No, officer that isn't what you think it is, I promise*), then I had to paint the room 2 wonderful coats of dark grey. It looks fantastic.

 "Dark grey?" You ask. "Doesn't that feel like a dungeon?" Yes, see I have a theory. If you paint the room darker and put up black curtains they will think 
A) that it is night time sooner 
B) that it is still night time, even though it is 8:30 AM and 
C) this room is nice and cozy I want to stay in here as long as I can. We shall test my theory this weekend.. 

 I'm thinking the move will be good for them. Slaten already wants to share his bed with his brother (though I fear he'll smother him with his millions of babies, hence the reason for his own bed) so I'm hoping this will help them both to sleep through the night all the time. Shh don't crush my hopes you nay-Sayers. Now I must go back to painting their furniture. I told you... I can't just paint a room. I'm painting it a lovely shade of Red. Which coincidentally looks a lot like blood if it comes in contact with your skin. I should have noticed this before I left the house earlier. I think it wigged the drive thru girl out when she realized we bumped hands... Oh well, can't win them all.

Sunday, September 18, 2011

The Surprise Christmas Present

This post is meant to be funny. We weren't that heartbroken over the matter so please don't be sad by reading it. K? Thanks :)

I first want to start off by saying hello to my 
new followers! I'm so happy you're here! 
Of course my computer decided to bite
the dust so I haven't been able to respond
to any comments yet, but please
know that I am so excited to meet 
new friends and please don't think
I'm a weenie or a slacker
because I really do like to respond to 
all my comments to say hello!
P.S. I'm using a tiny netbook so I apologize in advance for any errors in this post. Please blame the extremely small keyboard and my very clumsy fingertips. Thank you, that is all.
 Christmas time was of course one of my favorite times as a kid. Waiting for Santa, decorating the tree, singing carols about Batman and Robin.. I have a lot of fond memories of that magical time of year. There was the year I walked into the living room to find a brand new pink Barbie corvette. Or the year I got the very cool, very hip, very ugly Gap Jacket. Santa was never one to disappoint. He loaded the gifts on, filled the stocking to the brim, and ate all the cookies my brother and I left out for him. What a wonderful way to spend the holidays. That is until my parents morbidly ruined it for us.

   My brother was 10, I was 8. We were anxiously waiting the arrival of this day. We couldn't wait to see what gifts our family had decided to shower on us the day before Christmas. We usually spent the day at my dad's parents for lunch and with my mom's parents for dinner. We played with our cousins, stuffed our faces with yummy food (always avoided the green jiggly food) and begged our parents to hurry so we could get on with the presents. We'd whine that they were taking too long and they'd start in with, "We're going to eat slower the more you ask!" It was very annoying. Finally after many threats we'd get to shred that beautifully wrapped paper to find our Christmas surprises. Merry laughter filling the room, Christmas music filling the air. Pure happiness. 
  As tradition in our family my brother and I were allowed to open one gift Christmas Eve from our parents. Usually in the evening before bed, but this special day our parents surprised us with this announcement, "Come outside we have something to show you".

   My brother and I wiggled with anticipation. "Oh my goodness this is it! We're getting something so awesome because we have to actually go outside to see this present. It must be big since they couldn't bring it in the house. Oh my, look! Daddy is already outside waiting! It must be something he has to reveal that's really going to knock our socks off." My brother and I, smiling ear to ear, chatting as we walk down the stairs ran every idea through our heads.  "New bikes! A basketball goal! A trampoline! A pony!" We just couldn't decide! So we walked down the stairs to where my dad was standing. Beside him on the ground was a blanket. Whatever our fantastic surprise was rested right there in front of us waiting to fill our lives with joy and excitement. We waited. Dad reached down. Here was the moment. The big present of the year. We couldn't hold still from excitement. He pulled the blanket back and there was.......
  Our golden retriever, Sam. Dead. Not moving. Our smiles faded. "Sam died this morning. We're so sorry. We just wanted to let you say goodbye before we buried him." My brother and I looked at each other. Then at the dog. Then at each parent. Then at the dog. Then back at each other. Then back at the dog. We decided that this was the worst Christmas present in the history of bad Christmas presents. 

  I brought this story up today to my parents. Apparently they didn't think about the fact of my brother and I thinking it could be a wonderful surprise we were being led to. I have now learned never to get my hopes up when they tell me they have something to show me. Thankfully the scarring of the event wasn't too much to handle and my brother and I moved on rather quickly (apparently presents to that to kids) and we still celebrate Christmas with only the seldom thought about the surprise gift.
R.I.P Sam.

Thursday, September 15, 2011

Random Thursday

{# I can't even remember what number we're on...}

1. Today is laundry day. I'm embarrassed at the amount of piles of clothes I have to wash. I decided to combine all 4 of our baskets and sort them out. I'm not going to tell you how many piles I have right now. Quit asking, I'm too embarrassed. Okay there are 8. Eight piles of clothes. I think we might have too many clothes, but I just can't get rid of any. Well I might could get rid of some of Sweet Husband's clothes, but I don't guess that would be too nice...

2. I had a proud mommy moment the other day. Cullen (who is 20 months) went to the potty and patted it while saying "tee tee" and pulling his diaper off. So I sat him up there and he went!! I was so excited! Since then he has asked me to go potty a couple of times, but he usually just sits on it and poots and then busts out in his demonic laugh and we're done. Oh well he'll do it again one day.. I hope.

3. Slaten had his first soccer game Monday night. It started out with all the kids on the field and Slaten sitting right in the middle of them refusing to get up. I have it on video. Thankfully he got up and decided to run after the ball after a few minutes of almost being mauled over by 4 and 5 year olds. By the end of the game it was Slaten and one other little boy against the whole other team. We lost 1 child to countless hits to the head, lost another to fear of the game, and the other one decided to run in circles beside the field. They don't keep score in his age group, but his team totally won. Slaten did some fine footwork. He'd get the ball and just start kicking, usually to the other teams goal.... we have to explain that part a little better I think...

4. I was working on a piece of furniture for some friends and they wanted it distressed so I had it all out of the porch working away and Slaten asked, "Why are you ruining these drawers?" I explained to him that it is called distressing and it's really cool. He looked at me like I was crazy. He is so unhip. Get with the times 4 year old.

5. I have some music on my Ipod that is sang in German. One song in particular is Slaten's favorite. He listens to it in the car and sings rather loudly in made up Slaten/German words. At one part he says, "I got feelings!" which isn't in the song being as it's in German and all. I need to record it secretly because it's one of the funniest things I've ever heard. He does his voice really low and scratchy. He says they're mad when they sing. I hope he forever thinks we can all hear the music too so he'll continue to serenade us.

6. My Corgi dog turned 8 on Tuesday. I bought her treats to celebrate. She hates them. But she did enjoy the bunnies treats! I'm kind of tempted to try one of her treats. They smell like bacon...MMmmm bacon.

7. I just killed a spider. It could have been a brown recluse. I looked them up. Don't ever do that. I now feel like I have bugs all over me and I've convinced myself that all the spiders I saw in the shed are all brown recluses. Oh my goodness my skin is going to rot off!!

8. I'm on laundry load number 5 now. Only 3 more piles left. I am so proud of myself for not giving up yet. No sour clothes for this family this week!

9. Would it be weird if I taught Cullen to talk in a British cockney accent? I really love children with accents. "Why hello guv'nah".

10. Even though it's cool outside today, I'm craving ice cream. Chocolate Nonsense from DQ would really hit the spot. Anybody want to bring me some??? I'll pat you on the back and say thanks!! No, no one?

Tuesday, September 13, 2011

Channel Surfing

  As a momma, I rarely get to watch what I want on TV. During the day when the TV is on we're watching kid shows. During naps I'm too busy to watch TV and at night Sweet Husband usually watches something like football (which sometimes I want to watch too) or Pass Times. So I try to make the best out of the shows everyone else wants to watch. Here are some of the ways I do that.

A show about a little girl with a pink bob wig who goes to stay with her uncle who happens to be a puppet. The whole town are puppets except for the hero and the villain and nobody seems to find this odd. I have found one good reason to watch this show. The Hero Sportacus has very nice arms. Though the mustache is quite atrocious.

A show about a DJ named Lance Rock who plays with action figures that come to life. Nothing weird there. Except maybe the little green one with the long arms. He tends to freak people out. I like this show because DJ Lance makes awesome faces and has sweet dance moves.

She's a pig who lives with her pig family and they have an accent. Apparently Pig shows are big because there are 3 of them on the kids channels. I choose to like this one. Simply because they have accents and Cullen says Peppa Pig like a little English child now.

5 Australian Men singing and dancing with an over sized Octopus, Dog, and a very strange Pirate. I'm only okay with this show because I think the Blue one is kind of nice to look at.

A 4 year old whiny whiny boy who could use a good talking to, has adventures with his little sister Rosie (who can say the word "umbrella" but not "butterfly"? Reallly??), his mom, dad, grandma, and grandpa. Caillou is 4 and never grew any hair which I find sad because even little sister Rosie has hair. I don't know how I feel about his mom and dad's parenting skills because they let Caillou wear shorts when it's cold and they let Rosie wear a dress out in the snow. You know that babys legs are cold. Also they never put Caillou in time out when I think they should. Okay, so maybe there's not really anything I like about this show....

3 people stand on a podium and make guesses on what time they think a car will race down the track. The closest score wins money each time. I like to play with Sweet Husband, but I like to take it a step further and say, "Okay, if I win you have to go feed the dog." or "You have to change this poopy diaper". Lately I've gotten really good at winning.

Thursday, September 8, 2011

A Scary But True Tale


 There was an old barn out beside her house. She didn't venture out there very often. It was built to store hay and had a large room built inside of it. The creaking of the doors was enough to make any one's skin crawl and the clanging of the lock against the door was rather unsettling. Large tree branches scraped the tin roof mimicking nails on a chalkboard. But on this day she needed to go into the shed. She felt the pull to discover what was buried underneath the boxes of memories forgotten. She dismissed the warning from her mother to wait until her husband got home. She couldn't wait. She has to discover what is called... THE SHED.

 She put on her husbands Etnies because of laziness she didn't grab her own shoes and she slipped quietly out of the door as to not disturb the sleeping children. Her footsteps squishing in the soggy, muddy ground with each step. Above a bird flutters away. Cawing loudly as if a warning that she turn back and not venture into the unknown. She doesn't listen and continues across the yard. She reaches the shed. The doors, covered in black plastic to protect its innards from the rain, creak and shutter from the gusts of the wind. The lock clangs against the door as if to taunt her that she has no business here. She reaches anyway and slowly undoes the lock. Taking a deep breath she steps aside to swing the large wooden door open.

 She glances inside. Unsure of what lies in wait. Dust that was undisturbed for many months begins to settle around her. She takes one nervous step inside. She shines her flashlight, but the beam isn't bright enough to show what lurks in the shadows. She glances down to make sure all it okay to move forward. The plastic on the ground crinkles in the back corner. She stands still, listening, afraid to breath she shines her flashlight toward the noise. Nothing is there. She sighs and keeps moving toward the back of the shed. She notices a box and leans down to inspect it. There are webs connecting it to every other surface in this place. She shudders and knocks it with her foot. A very loud noise comes from inside, "LOW AND SLOW". She jumps and grabs her chest. Realization hits her that it's only an old toy she hid from her kids. Regaining her composure she reaches inside to see what other treasures are in the box. Nothing of importance so she moves on. Deeper into the shed.

 She looks around some more only to realize there are about a thousand little spiders on webs around her. They stare at her, ready to attack. She can feel the hair on the back of her neck stand up as she realizes they must be able to smell her fear.

 She takes a step back only to step in a puddle that she knows must house thousands of micro sized creatures ready to suck her blood out of her with many agonizing bites.

She glances up in hope of finding something to grab on to. That's when she sees the first nest. She whips her head back and forth quickly. The realization hits her that she's not alone. She hears the buzz now. Hundreds of nests attached to the roof and wall. They buzz her name she hears it ringing in her ears. She has to escape. This can't be the way things end for her. She has to protect others. Warn them of this place. So she runs. She finds the lock and slams the door. She runs to safety, the world a blur around her. She hears the buzz fading as they hum her name begging her to return.

 She doesn't look back. She opens the door to her house quickly. Steps inside to safety and breathes a sigh of relief. She made it. She'll never venture off again. She finds her slippers and slips them on and then plops down happily on the couch to sit down and write this blog. She should have listened to her momma...

Linking up here


Tuesday, September 6, 2011

Gotta Do Some Random

Yeah, I know it's not Thursday, but
today deserves a little
bit of RaNdoM

1. It's raining.... Did you other Alabamians notice? I'm not going to complain because I was one of the ones praying for it, but I'm currently with power so maybe if I were one of the others I'd be less thankful. But there is so much rain that somehow it is under the floors in the middle of the house? Yeah, not sure how either, but it's kind of messing up the floors and I'm not sure what to do because I'm a girl and I don't know about things like this. So I jumped up and down on the floor boards and squeezed as much water out as I could. I also threw a towel on it. That seemed like a reasonable thing to do.

2. I had a dream and at the end of it Sweet Husband kissed me, but when I woke up it wasn't Sweet Husband at all. It was a slobbery baby giving my forehead a hickey. It was awkward and weird and it left my forehead covered in spit.

3. I've had a cold for the past week. But my voice waited until this past weekend when we had plans with friends to start sounding like a 60 year old lady with a black lung. I like to call it my "Sexy Voice". I mean what sounds sexier than a scratchy voice that occasionally hacks something up?

4. I put out my fall decor on September 1st. I couldn't wait any longer. It had to be done. Turns out I have more pumpkins than space to put them. So if you come over just move a pumpkin over and have a seat. Side note: My brother in law and sister in law have a dog named Punkin so I can't say pumpkin properly anymore... thanks for that guys.

5. There is a fly that keeps bombing at my face. It's really bothering me, but every time I want to kill it I can't find it. It's cold today shouldn't all insects die like immediately?

6. Slaten starts 4k preschool tomorrow. We are both so stink'n excited. Last year on this day I was sad because my little man was growing up. This year I'm like "Woohoo! Break for mommy!" Don't y'all pretend like you don't ever need a break from your kids... I'm just asking if I can sign them both up.

7. Cullen climbed up on the toilet and got one of my sample size perfume bottles and smashed it on the back of the toilet. Not only did my bathroom smell for days, but he also smelt like a baby prostitute for a while.

8. Sweet Husband is home earlier than he has been lately, both kids are asleep, wanna know what we're doing? Yep, you guessed it. We're watching Disney Channel. Oh yeah.

9. Slaten woke Sweet Husband up and said, "Who is snoring? It's very annoying!" Apparently it was me. I can't help it! One side of my nose is completely clogged up. So this causes snoring, snotting, and drooling. I'm one pretty lady in the morning.

10. Living in this rainy environment just confirms that I don't want to be Bella Swan no matter how sparkly her vampire might be, this weather all the time would be uber depressing.

Friday, September 2, 2011

Technology Failure

  I suck at technology. It's really sad actually. My brother is a computer genius/physicist (I'm pretty sure that is his what his position at work is called). I guess his big brain took all of the smart genes out of the mother's uterus because I got stuck with the leftovers. We're lucky I can even turn on a computer... But then you start throwing codes at me and new layouts and I'm all like Wha??? So if you try to follow me on BlogLovin I'm not sure it will work since I'm pretty sure it thinks I'm trying to steal someone else's blog and claim it as my own... yeah, I don't know. One might think I grew up in a time before computers, but no I'm just that dense.

  Let's discuss some ways technology makes me want to hide in a corner while rocking back and forth muttering something about the devil living in technical things.

Our Xbox: Our poor little Xbox was struck my lightning a few years back. So now you have to plug it in (but don't leave it plugged in because I'm afraid it will spontaneously combust) and then you have to hold the button on the plug semi-in. What's semi-in you ask?? That's where you press the button in, but not all the way in because it won't work that way. You have to hold it just perfectly so that the light stays on red long enough. It's become quite the art. If you have a lead finger forget it you will never succeed. Once it turns red you can put it down. Then you have to open the Xbox to insert the DVD or game. In order to open the Xbox you must beat your fist on the top at least 4 times with the right amount of force or your Xbox will refuse your DVDs entrance. It gets to be very frustrating and sometimes I want to cry when I'm being screamed at that I'm "being too slow and we need Lightning McQueen right now!!!"

Our Radio: Our radio that we have in the kitchen to keep me company while cleaning has a long wire... that is apparently the antenna. I have to try and find the perfect spot to pick up the radio stations I want to listen to, but I can only put the wire in certain spots being as it doesn't stand up on its own. I usually walk around while holding the wire and of course the best signal I get is if I stand in the middle of the kitchen with my arm straight up in the air. After one song I'm usually pretty tired so I just give up and turn it off.

My car radio: Dead. Ca put. Sleeping with the fishes. Yeah, it died when we went on Summer vacation..... in 2009!!! One might think we'd replace it by now, but since I can't seem to get anyone motivated enough to take it apart to see what is wrong I gave up....

A curling Iron: okay I don't know if that's considered technology, but I suck at it.... Seriously bad at it.

I'm thinking that maybe the Amish were the smart ones. If only I could pull off wearing a bonnet.