Big ol' yard

As I've mentioned before, I live in the country. I literally have cows, chickens, and horses right behind my house. I also live next door to my mom and my sister. If you put all of our yards together, we have a really good-sized playground. The kids love it because they have a big wide-open space to ride their various vehicles. And also a good ballpark when they need it. All seven of them (my 3 and my sister's 4) were outside Monday having a little ball game. I pulled three of them away to share a picture with me here.

Sometimes I wish that we lived in a real 'neighborhood' where the kids could ride their bikes and mingle with the neighbor's kids. But then I remember what a fun childhood I had, growing up in this very spot. I, too, used to play with my cousins who lived a few houses down. We would play ball, swing, swim, make our own secret clubs, etc; the same things my own kids do now. I think of all my great memories from back then, and I know that my children are making their own memories now. They've developed a special bond with their first cousins that hopefully, will never be broken. We're here to stay, all of us, and that's something you don't find just anywhere.

So, in the early 1970s with Todd, Kelli, Renee, and Jamie to the present day, with John, Anna, Katie, Emma, Andrew, Jenna and John M., the "big ol' yard" holds a special place in all of our hearts.

Nasty Summer Feet

I'm trying to revitalize my feet. They are nasty little suckers. I go barefoot way too often so the soles of my feet are dry and scaly. My heels and outer big toe are really dry and cracked. The problem with this is I wear sandals every single day to work so I get to share the nastiness with everyone. Aren't they lucky?

In an effort to combat this, I ordered various foot care products from Avon. I ordered one of those little foot file jobbies, some sloughing cream, some cracked heel repair cream, and a bottle of callus remover. All for the low, low price of $12.

I officially started my foot repair regimen this weekend, and even got the girls involved. They walked in as I was starting my routine Saturday night. They started to examine their little perfect, beautifully-skinned feet. But still decided they were in need of repair too. We worked for about 20 minutes, and came out with rejuvenated feet!

So, last night, as I was kissing Emma goodnight, she said, 'Mom, I love you so much, even if you do have rusty toenails'. Amen, Emma. Now THAT's love!

FroggieMom Avatar

This is me. Only you can only get in so much detail. It doesn't allow for meatier thighs, knobby knees, smaller boobies and a touch of cellulite. I tried. It wasn't an option. But hey, I'm much cuter as an avatar. Don't you wanna date my avatar? We could sit in the gazebo there and sip mint juleps and chat the day away.

Peace out.

I blinked . .

I knew I wasn't imagining things. I look at Anna lately and wonder when in the world this happened. When did she turn into a young lady? When did the little girl disappear?
I can tell you it was in between ages 9 and 10. The picture on the left is exactly a year ago, the end of April 2005. Still looks like a little girl, right? The one on the right was from a couple of weeks ago (the same one I posted with the Easter pics). Little girl now? No. I kept thinking she had changed so much in the past year, but I never went back and looked at pictures to compare. When I did last night, I was stunned at the differences. The shape of her body, even the look of her face has evolved from being childlike to more womanly.

I must admit, it scares me a little. This means dealing very soon, with issues such as the start of her period, dating, and yikes, talks about sex.

It started to depress me somewhat, until I thought about it in a different light. I started to see that hopefully, Anna will be my future best friend. Someone to share with me, what my mom and I have shared for years. A friendship that compares to no other. Someone who knows and understands me in an intimate way. Someone I can always count on no matter what. I suddenly felt like the luckiest woman in the world.

Easter Egg Hunt 2006

Just a few pictures from our little family Easter egg hunt this year. I finally uploaded them. The girls had a great time hiding the eggs for John M. I think they even preferred doing the hiding, rather than hunting the eggs themselves. Notice in the pictures how Anna has evolved into a young lady and no longer a 'little girl'. How depressing is that? She even told me a few weeks back that she didn't want me writing about her on my blog. Hormones running rampant, I tell you. I know, I know, it only gets worse. But, she's 10, shouldn't I get to wait a little longer to deal with 'teenage' issues? The Easter bunny brought her a cell phone. I know, I'm asking for it.

Anyway, I'm getting off on a tangent here, but enjoy the pictures. Everything is so pretty and green down here, but it's been H-O-T. I'm not complaining though, I was so tired of cold weather! The girls went back to school today, after being off for over a week, so it's back to homework and studying for about 4 more weeks until they're out for the summer! The school year has flown by and I can't believe they're going to be 5th and 3rd graders next year. I hope the summer is nice and relaxing. Peace out.

Mark took about 15,000 pictures of John on Easter . .

hunting eggs and this is the only one I have access to at the moment. Hopefully, more to come..

He loved slamming the eggs into his big green bucket. There was no placing them gently. Every single egg but one was cracked at the end of the hunt. Go figure.

Renee's weird - now there's a NEWSFLASH!

I've been tagged by Trina for weird facts about myself. Gee, that should be quite a list. Let's see what I can come up with.

1.) I have a huge fear of going blind. It's one of the worst things I can imagine. Hand in hand with that, I'm insanely scared of the dark. I panic when the electricity goes off at night and everything goes black. I have a mini-panic attack. So I try to keep a flashlight in close vicinity to the bed, so I can just switch it on.

2.) I love to tie knots in things, strings, thread, my hair whatever. I love to make a little knot bigger and bigger 'til it can't be tied anymore. I've had to pull pieces of hair out because of this.

3.) I love a bargain . . anytime, anywhere. I love garage sales, yard sales, flea markets, whatever. It's almost impossible for me to NOT stop at one when I pass by. Another person's junk is always my treasure!

4.) I'm neurotic about, how should I say this? , where I perform #2. This has actually been discussed on my blog before.

5.) I HATE Easter grass, anytime, anywhere. Hate, hate, hate it. I guess this isn't so weird, we probably all hate it!

6.) I love peeling layers of sunburned skin off of myself, and other people. I haven't done this often, what with all the attention to skin care and actually protecting yourself from the sun these days. But I remember doing this as a kid and having the best time.

Weird? Yes, I am.

I need to hear more weirdness. I'll tag Tara, my favorite Canadian, Dani, and my fellow Kenny lover, Chesneygirl.

Emma had an egg hunt at school . .

Mark went to help hide the eggs .

Emma returned with this tidbit of info, "Mama, Daddy and Mrs. Mary (the other mom-hider) aren't very good egg hiders. "
Me: "Why do you say that?"

Emma: "They just put them out in the dirt, I mean, we could see them just laying there."

When I thought about this: 12 eggs x 52 kids = 624, on a tiny, wee bit of playground, I understood why. But they had a great time picking the not-well-hidden-eggs up anyway.

Happy Easter Egg Hunting!

He loves the puppy . . he really does

Sometimes just a little too much.

Yikes!

Thankful Tuesday

1. First and foremost, this face to the left. And the faces of his cohorts(sisters).
2. Fried chicken.
3. Warm, breezy weather.
4. Flowers in bloom. And no weeds, at least for now. Check back tomorrow.
5. Easter barbecues!
6. Toes in the grass.
7. Summer vacation in a couple of short months.
8. Playing outside 'til 8:30 pm!
9. A Friday holiday this week. Only 2 more work days to go after today!
10. Did I mention fried chicken?

We're pool owners!

Check out our new purchase! A pool! Isn't it luxurious? Are you jealous?
I'll let you in on a little secret. Wal-Mart. $11.88. And you too can own on of these babies.
Or everyone could head down to South Louisiana and join us in ours.
Laissez les bontemps roulet!

The latest member of the FroggieMom family

Say 'hello' to Dippin' Dots. Her name goes great with our last name, which I try not to post. But, just trust me. She's also known as 'Triple D'. We're hoping she'll make a career as a stripper with that name. Do any of you have experience/knowledge of dalmatians? I don't.

She's cute beyond belief. That much, I do know.

Aiming for the bumps

One thing that always got on my nerves about the area I live in is the condition of the roads there. There are potholes everywhere; most have been filled in but not well, so they're bumps.
It makes for a very bumpy ride.

John M. has changed my outlook on these bumps. He giggles everytime we hit one that shakes the car a little. He can be crying but when we hit a little bump, he'll take a break in the crying for a giggle. It's as if he can't help but do it.

Crossing railroad tracks nearly makes him hysterical with laughter!

So, now, every day I find myself aiming for the bumps. Anything to see that kid smile.

Emma pics

Not much energy in me to post much. After discovering that we won the Powerball jackpot and then discovering a '+' on my pregnancy test and all. .

Okay, April Fool's.

Anyway, just wanted to post an 'After the extra teeth got pulled' shot:
Can you tell how happy she was to finally have those babies out?!















Next, a picture of Emma's first communion group. She's smack dab in the middle there.

















That's all for now. I'm pooped. Dont' forget to spring forward tonight.

No longer 4 where 2 should be

Remember this? That was actually a post back in January. Bad Mother, FroggieMom, didn't take Emma back to the dentist until yesterday, about 5 weeks after I was supposed to. She still had the 2 top front baby teeth behind her almost totally grown in permanent teeth. It was definitely time to get those babies pulled.

With the help of a little 'magic gel' to numb her gums, the two long-lasting (she turned 8 in December) baby teeth were gone in a matter of minutes! Followed by bleeding gums for about an hour and a half. I thought they'd never stop bleeding. Emma didn't mind getting them pulled too much; she was so excited for them to finally be out of there! Poor thing was tired of the kids at school teasing her about being a shark.

So, back to my beautiful Emma smile. I took an 'after' picture of her smiling yesterday but haven't had a chance to upload it. I'll try to do it this weekend.

Here's to 'regular' teeth, LSU in the final four for the first time in 20 years, and a warm weekend ahead! Go Tigers!

Bloglines

Do y'all use Bloglines? It's a great way to manage your regularly-read blogs? It lets you know when there are updates and is just so handy! If you're not familiar with it, try it and make sure to subscribe to me! My goal is to get my subscriber list total number up to my bra size (NOT a big number, trust me. These puppies are little!). Anyway, I have 7 subscribers now so I've a long way to go! Check it out.

People have a tendency to piss me off

Okay, so my Wal-Mart story from the weekend. I'm sitting in my van with Anna and John M. in the parking lot of W-M, eating our gourmet lunch from Mickey D's. We do this often, eat in the car before going on the dreaded Wal-Mart adventure. I notice a lady getting into her car that's parked on the left of me. I don't pay much attention to her, because you know, I'm concentrating on my fries and all.

Next thing I know, I feel my van shake and hear a 'boom'. I'm thinking, 'that's great, she just hit me when she was backing out', but I look over at her and her car is still a little ways away. She kind of throws her hands up, as if to say, 'Sorry, I'm not sure what happened'. So we both get out and she walks around to my van. In between our cars, there's a buggy turned on its side. Apparently, she hit it while backing up and it fell between our cars. I check for damage to my van and all I see is a very small scratch on the plastic strip on my van door. So, thinking that I'm being nice about the whole thing, I tell her 'We don't have to worry about that, it's just a tiny scratch'. She comes back with, 'Well, YES WE DO have to worry about it, because look at my car!'. The buggy had dented in her door and scratched the side of her car. Well, fine, sorry about that, but it had nothing to do with me. She called 911. Yes, you heard that right, she actually called 911 because SHE hit a shopping cart in the Wal-Mart parking lot. All real emergencies will have to take a back seat to that for a minute!

So, she gets in touch with the local police and they're on their way. I figure, at this point, this really has nothing to do with me, so I get my kids out of the car. Anna tells me that she actually saw what happened (she was in the back of the van). She says there was a buggy behind the lady's car and she backed out fast, hit the buggy, and it flew between our cars. Anyway, I'm making a short story long here . . I wait a minute for the lady to get off of her cell phone. She had called her dad to tell them about what happened. I'm standing behind her with the kids and I realize that she doesn't know I'm standing there.

Here's what she tells her dad, 'I was just involved in an accident in the parking lot of Wal-Mart. A lady opened her door and knocked a buggy into my car and dented it. She went in the store with her kids already.' WTF? She's standing there telling a total lie without a thought. Anna looks at me with a gaping mouth 'Mom, did you hear what she said? She's blaming you. That's not what happened!'. I said, 'I know, I'm going to get this straight'. At this point, the lady realizes we're standing right behind her. She hangs up the phone, whips around and says, 'OH, I didn't see you there, I thought you had gone in the store.'. I told her that I had not hit her car; that I hadn't even opened my door until it was all over. She's really embrarrassed at this point and says, 'Oh okay, alright, I misunderstood.'. Yeah, sure lady, whatever.

The police come. I didn't hear what she told them, but I know that she lied about the incident because when Anna told them what she saw, the officer turned to the lady and says 'OH, so the cart was behind your car and you just backed into it?!", in a tone that said that wasn't at all what she had reported. She just turned the other way and didn't say a word.

Anna was asked to write her statement; she was thrilled to be a 'witness'! I turned to go in the store. I was never told 'Sorry', 'Thank you', anything at all.

I guess this is just a sign of the times. No one wants to be held accountable for their actions. They are careless and don't want to pay for their mistakes. They want someone else to pay. If it takes lying to get that accomplished, they do it without a thought. What an awful example for our kids; I hated for Anna to see that. But on the other hand, it was at least an example of what NOT to do. Geez . .

About 547 days old

Tomorrow John M. is 18 months old, on the dot. I must say, that kid is growing up too quickly. Maybe it's the finality of it all. He is my last baby. I know there will be no others. This is it. No more 'noopies', no more bottles, no more chubby baby hands around my neck. No.more.little.baby.
Okay, let me snap out of it. John, an update on YOU:

In the past few months, you've started to add more and more words to your vocabulary; you say 'Mama' regularly now and you also enjoy a good 'Cheese!', which you learned after watching Macy snap pretend pictures with her 'camera'. You try to say everyone's name now and that has caused us to all be wrapped around your little pinky finger a little bit tighter.

You still love anything chocolate; I think if we dipped a dog turd in chocolate, you'd wolf it down like nobody's business. You also enjoy macaroni and cheese. You even love the 'Easy Mac' variety. Yeah, me! And hamburgers; you can eat an entire little hamburger from a Happy Meal in no time flat.

We gave you your first sip of beer the other day, and you scarfed it down with such enjoyment, I almost called AA. You even kept shaking the bottle while you had it turned totally upside down in your mouth, so as to get every miniscule drop out. You then proceeded to hand me the bottle and point to another, like 'NEXT'. I considered letting you have the entire bottle and getting a really good night's sleep that night. But then I thought again.

You've taken to saying 'OWwwwwwww!' - this is something brand new, when you've hurt yourself, you look at me with your confused little wrinkled brow and curled up eyebrows as it to ask 'how do I express this pain that I'm in?' and I'll say, 'It hurt? Say Ouch' and you'll kind of growl it out 'OWwwwuhhhh'.

During the past few weeks, you've discovered climbing. Everything. And standing atop what you've just climbed. You'll usually throw in a little victory jig once you're on top, as if to say, 'I have conquered the coffee table, hear me roar!'.

You still love being outside more than just about anything else. We can't say the word 'outside' unless we plan on taking you there. We have to spell it. I'm hoping you outgrow this before you learn to spell 'outside'.

I'm still waiting for you to enjoy being read to. Right now, the only books you like are the 'touch and feel' books where you can feel fur, or bumps, or something of the sort.

You've discovered your body parts and like to get more familiar with them when in the tub.

You really enjoy being powdered, you love viewing bellybuttons, and also brushing other people's hair with any object that remotely resembles a brush. A phone, a toothbrush, whatever.

Another favorite pastime is knocking things down. Doesn't matter what. As long as you can knock it on the floor or across the room, your work has been done.

You're just my boy. As I tell you every day. 'Hey John M., you're my boy, do you know that?'.I wonder how many times in your short little lifetime I've said that.

But, it's true. You're my only boy. I can't remember how many times before you were born I told people I didn't want to have a boy because I didn't know what to do with them. I just knew girls and I thought I liked it that way. I don't think I've ever been more wrong (and trust me, I'm wrong about lots of things.) A boy is exactly what I needed and God gave me the perfect one. Thanks for being my boy. I love you, Mr. John M, more than mud puddles.

'Roody' and 'June'

Emma's First Communion ceremony is this Saturday. It's bringing back memories. Memories that evoke mixed feelings for me. You see, Anna's First Communion was only about a week before my dad died. At that time, he was very, very sick. Only, we had no idea. No idea that in a few short days, he wouldn't be with us anymore. I am still amazed and overwhelmed how he managed to go to the ceremony and out to eat with us afterwards, in the condition that his body was in. We found out later that he had one-third of the blood that he should have had, because he was bleeding internally. One-third. Can you even imagine? When I get a little sick, and think I can't make it somewhere or do something that needs to be done, I think of him at that time, and know that I can.

But that's just the kind of person he was, he'd do absolutely anything for his children, his wife, his grandchildren. When Emma (nicknamed 'Roo' or 'Roody' when she was brand new) was about a week old and had RSV, Mark was out of town a lot, traveling for work. My dad ('June', to all of his grandchildren) would come over every night that Mark was gone, and hold Emma the entire night. She was on a respiratory monitor, but it would malfunction often and sound this deafening alarm that would scare us shitless when it went out. Number one, because it was loud! Number two, because we thought she had stopped breathing. We would often hold her all day (and all night) long, so as to act as 'human monitors', rather than keep her hooked up to the thing. Gee, I wonder why she's so spoiled . .

I can still see my dad sitting on the left hand side of my couch, in the camp where we used to live holding little tiny Emma, in his big arms. I'd leave them in that position when I went to bed and find them exactly that way when I woke up. I don't think she's slept quite as soundly since. I truly believe that, at that time, they developed a bond that could never be broken. The little, tiny love of my life and the big, strong one.

He picked Emma up from her preschool for me, between the ages of 3 and 4, and he never failed to tell me and my mom a story of what Emma told him. She used to crack him up with the things that she would say and the stories she would totally and completely make up. Until she was done and she would finish up with 'Just kidding, June! That didn't really happen'.

June used to buy entire cases of those Dove ice cream bars for Emma. Poor little Emma, takes after her grandmother, and has an addiction to chocolate. She loved those bars like no other. She could be sicker than sick and not willing to eat anything else, but she'd eat one of those ice cream bars in a wink. He'd buy those Dove bars for Emma and restock as soon as the supply started to get low.

Emma told me and my mom last week (out of the blue) that she promised to never eat a 'Dove bar' again until she was in heaven. To share it with June.

When she tried on her First Communion dress in the store a few weeks ago, I couldn't help but cry. For my dad who wouldn't get to see his 'Roody' on her special day. I really do believe that he will get to look down and see her that day. I just wish he could be standing next to me when he did.

She was so much his little girl. She still is, I guess.

It's been too long since my last blessings count . .

I try to remember and do this on a regular basis, but I forget . . you know me.
Here goes.
I'm thankful for:

1.) My family; their (and my) good health.
2.) Good friends at the place where I live (and do a little work) 40 hours/week.
3.) Ore-Ida EZ fries
4.) Warm weather getting closer and closer
5.) Flowers in bloom in my yard
6.) John M's little baby toes
7.) The weekend coming up!
8.) Lunch at Chili's

Are you thinking 'this can't be good'?

You'd be right.
He dragged it from the bathroom into the living room, then to the kitchen.
He has a love affair with toilet paper.
Little tree killer.

Wal-Mart is loving me.

John M's favorite position

for the past week. Clinging to me like a little baby spider monkey. Screaming when his little pudgy feet hit the floor.

It's tough to get anything done.







but okay, I kind of love it.
Well, more than kind of.

Turn-around

"It's a bad morning. I feel like I should be awarded 'Worst Mother of the Year'. The number one reason is I left John M. at the babysitter's when I knew he was sick. The worst part about it was he threw up the minute I walked in the door. Everywhere. The entire bottle of milk that he had drank this morning. I still smell like regurgitated milk, in fact. We cleaned him up and I thought about how maybe I should take him home and stay with him. He's been sick all week. First a cold, then a low-grade fever, now this. I didn't feel so bad about having him at the babysitter's earlier in the week because his symptoms were pretty mild. I had to take Anna to the doctor Monday and Mark's been out of town, so I've been taking off a little time each day to bring the girls to school. I thought about that, the fact that I have so much to do today at work, and the fact that I honestly feel like he's in better hands with the babysitter. She has him on a schedule, he eats more......."

This is a post I had started on Friday. It's Monday now. What a difference a weekend makes!
I was feeling awful about the situation when I started to write this Monday. I felt so guilty for having left my baby when he was sick. I was trying to rationalize why I did it, but it wasn't working. I think the bottom line was I was tired, tired, tired. Not having a helper, aka Mark, for 3 days apparently can do that to me. I'm no spring chicken anymore, you know.

The good news is John M. is better and back to his old self. As is Anna (she had the virus first and missed 3 1/2 days of school). The weekend was good. Nice weather and lots of time with the kids and Mark.

I'm trying to learn that I need to cut myself some slack and try not to feel so much 'mother-guilt'. I don't know if it's working but I'm trying.

Green Acres

Mark's been all about the farm lately. He became a grandfather again. To a calf. Well, that sounds sick, but you know what I mean.

All of the kids, especially John M. love to ride out in the pasture and see the new baby calves. We took a ride out Saturday and Mark and Emma rode back in on Socks, one of Mark's horses.

Thus, the picture.

Sleepy

John M. has been sleeping since 1:30. Three hours. That NEVER happens.
I have been productive beyond belief.

Mardi Gras in the Crescent City!

Last Sunday, we caught the Mid-City parade and the first half of Bacchus, down in New Orleans. Here's some pics from our trip:

There was a lot of poking fun at F.E.M.A., local and state gov't, etc from Katrina at the Mid-City parade. I don't know if you can read the signs below. There was even a 'refrigerator heaven' float.


J
John enjoyed climbing the ladders, oh, and the Clydesdales. Look, the horse on the right even smiled for the picture!

More pictures to come . .

Just a tidbit of the girls' conversation on our way home . .

Me: John M. pinched Carson on the cheeks today and Sam put him in the corner.

Anna and Emma: Yeah, we know (they were at the babysitter's all day b/c they had the day off)

(small bit of silence while Emma's little brain wheels spin)

Emma: Horses don't have cheeks.

Me: (after thinking on this for a second). No, I guess they don't. That's true. What else doesn't have cheeks?

Emma: Frogs!

Me: Well, frogs kind of have cheeks. Those big puffy things on their faces.

Emma: Oh yeah.

Anna: (chiming in from the back, back seat) Michael Jackson doesn't have cheeks.

Me: True.

Where, I ask, do they come up with these things?

No longer a 'throw me something, mister' virgin . .

Next year, we're going to work on 'Show your tits!'. (for John M., I mean, not his mother).

Quiet, rainy afternoon

It's a very rainy day here. Dreary, dreary, dreary. I've been napping and blogging and watching 'Confessions of a Teenage Drama Queen' with Emmy. Now I must go 'make groceries' at the Dixie of Winn. Things I'd rather do than that:

1.) Eat doodle bugs.
2.) Pull out my eyebrow hair.
3.) 100 push-ups.
4.) Kiss a lizard.
5.) Just about anything.

But I'm off, in the rain, to do just that. Wish me luck.

Understanding (Happy 17 months, Monkey-John)

John M. still isn't say much of anything, but I'm constantly in awe of what he understands. I use to let him off the hook for things because I'd chalk it up to 'he doesn't know any better'. Well, unbeknownst to him, I'm on to his little game. He knows; he just chooses not to listen. It's gotten to the point where he'll walk in the house, march right to the cat food dish, dump it on the floor, give me his premeditated -'Uh-Ooooh' and then fetch the dustpan and the broom and hand it to me. Can you believe him?

I was convinced of his game even more today at my mom's house. She has a pool table that he LOVES to get on top of and play with the balls. He tends to throw them or bang them hard on the table. In the past, we'd tell him not to do it and assume he just didn't 'get it', but today I explained to him that he had to ROLL the balls or he'd have to get down. He raised his little gold eyebrows at me and reared back as if he was going to throw the ball. I gave him that 'you do it and die' look and he put the ball down and pushed it gently with the back of his little hand and smiled. Little booger.

He's now saying these words (let me keep count here b/c for his 18-month check-up, they're going to ask and I'm going to be struggling to remember):

Mama (this is the most important one!!)
Dada
MawMaw
Ball
Bye-Bye
Bella (the babysitter's dog)
Gimme

I think that's it. Uh-oh, I think he's failed that part of the oral exam. Oh well. He can babble like nobody's business. That should get him some extra points.

Cuteness Abounds!

Okay, I know there are many similar ones here, but they were all so cute I couldn't decide on just one. Last weekend, we had some really cold (for southern La.), nasty weather out. Mark bundled up his favorite wee cowhand to help with the farm and took these (beware, much cuteness below):







Then, how to warm him up we asked?
I know, we'll boil him!

Way Back Wednesday

Circa 2001.

No, that's not a pack of cigs I have poking out of my pocket.

No, I've not doing heavy drugs; I just looked a little dazed.

Yes, those are 2 cute little girls.

Yes, those are 2 wooden fish hanging on my cabinets. A Mark purchase.

Notice, too, the red spider lilies behind us. I love those.

My list of worries as of 2/21/2006

I keep reminding myself that the reason I started this blog was to be able to look back at it, in many years, and have it serve as a diary of sorts. I also hope to show it to my children when their older, so that they can read stories of things that they've done, that their old mother has forgotten about. It's a peek into my life as it is now, a snapshot in time. As I've said before, I'm a worrier, so I figured I should post about my daily worries. Things that cross my mind daily and cause me to worry, the same things that keep me awake at night or the wee hours of the morning. Here they are:

- something bad happening to Anna, Emma or John, health or accident-related
- ditto for Mark, my mom, my sister's family
- money, not having enough from day to day, week to week
- future expenses, especially college and weddings - how in lleh are we going to pay for that?
- having my own health problems
- the need to lose weight, growing older
- social problems for my girls, 'mean-girls' teasing them, etc.

These are the biggest ones that come to mind. There are more, but they are a little more petty and not as worrisome for me. I guess most of these are the typical things that most wives/mothers worry about, but I just wanted to share.

Do any of you have some big worries to add?

Gauchos, camisoles, spring blazers . . oh my!

I have serious Spring fever when it comes to clothes buying the last couple of weeks. I've been getting all the new catalogs with the cute gauchos, and pretty chocolate, peach, turqouise color combinations. And the cute little blazers and jackets, and camisoles and crocheted sweaters! See this little chick on the left here. I love her gauchos! I've been adding things to my online shopping bags like nobody's business. Someone stop me before I get out of hand here. Or maybe it's too late.

I even bought a cute spring skirt at Wal-Mart this weekend, because I spend half of my life there, so I may as well buy some fashions too, right?

Okay, I'll be seeing y'all . . I just realized I need some cute little strappy sandals . . .

'Our Home, Louisiana'

At the girls' school mass this week, the children sang a beautiful song
called 'Our Home, Louisiana'. I had never heard it before and it really touched me that day as I listened. Turns out it's a song by a New Orleans songwriter named Jep Epstein, who wrote the song about the rebuilding of our state after Hurricanes Katrina and Rita. The song is used in an ad campaign for Blue Cross and Blue Shield of Louisiana. It touches on Louisiana traditions and our sense of family and community that I feel is something that defines our state as a whole.

If you're interested, here are the lyrics:

OUR HOME, LOUISIANA

A flickering lamp, a fire bright,
The lights are on again,
Graceful trees tell quiet tales,
And you remember then.


All our dreams head homeward, chere,
Smiles bring other smiles,
Neighbors, friends, and family join,
Together, we survive.

This is our love,
This is our life,
This is our home, Louisiana,
This is our day, come what may,
This is our home.

A breaking dawn,
a tender morn,
A canvas we design,
The band parades, a jester laughs,
We share momentous time.

And all our hopes flow back to you,
The music plays in time,
The river calls in majesty.
Together, we survive.

This is our love,
This is our life,
This is our home, Louisiana,
This is our day, come what may,
This is our home.

Church bells ring,
the children sing,
My sunshine, you are mine,
Hello old friend,
I knew you when,
Together, we’ll unwind.

May all our prayers be noble now,
May all our work be pure,
May we be thankful once again,
Together, we endure.

This is our love,
This is our life,
This is our home, Louisiana,
This is our day, come what may,
This is our home.

This is our love,
This is our life,
This is our home, Louisiana,
This is our day, come what may,
This is our home.

“Our Home, Louisiana” Words and music by Jep Epstein © 2005 Blue Cross and Blue Shield of Louisiana

If you'd like to hear the song, you can download it here:
http://www.bcbsla.com/web/customer/Our_Home/Our_Home_Louisiana.asp
There's also a CD that Blue Cross has on sale and proceeds go to the Hurricane Relief effort.

For all of you out there that have ties to Louisiana, you know it's a great place, one like no other.
If you've never visited here, I hope one day you can make it down and get to live the feeling that this song speaks of.

John's increasing vocabulary

In addition to 'Maw-Maw' and 'Da-da' and his all time favorite 'uh-oh', we now have, . . . drumroll please . . . 'Mamamamamama' (that SO counts as 'Mama'!) and 'ball'. It sounds more like 'baw', but we know what he means. At this rate, he'll be forming complete sentences by age 6!

Go, John!

That wacky Aunt Flo

Okay, girls (MarkD and Spikey, y'all may want to sit this one out, as it deals with the 'P' word), can someone please tell me what the deal is with my menstrual cycle these days? Ever since Aunt Flo came back after I finished nursing John M. (last May, I think), things have not been right.

This is the way it goes, Aunt Flo comes in with a little light bag, you couldn't even call it a true 'carry-on', and then her little bag gets lighter and lighter. This can go on for close to a week, a full 6 days this month! Just when it looks like she's left town all together, she comes in with a complete set of luggage! And some furniture too. It's not pretty. But, she just stays 2 or 3 days tops and then she's gone, quicker than a wink. All in all, her stay can last anywhere from 10-12 days? WTF?
I know I'm older now and my hormones are out of whack, but still.

Do any of you have similar experiences? Please tell me that this is temporary and I'll be 'normal' again one day. Please.

Even if you have to lie a little. ;^)

Can you guess what's going on in this picture?

Did you guess the 4-H Sew With Cotton contest at the parish library yesterday? You did?! Well, you'd be right.
This was Anna's first year taking part. She was not looking forward to the modeling part. They had to make aprons, so modeling an apron isn't real exciting, I guess. She told me beforehand that she was sorry she had decided to do it and she most definitely was not doing it next year. I totally understand because I used to take part in this same contest eons ago and I despised the modeling part. I wanted to sink into the floor when I had to walk out in front of all those people. My mom has pictures of me in my stylin! 4-H dresses and I'm all hunched over and looking miserable. I need to post those. Y'all would enjoy them. Anna won a purple ribbon (notice it in her hand) and that made it all worth it. She even said she'd do it again next year. The dashing young man next to Anna is my nephew, John, who took home the overall first place prize! The only man in the competition too!

They're following in their grandmothers' footsteps, that's for sure, because if you're looking for a seamstrss, don't stop here.

***Update to this post. My mom found the picture. She has been welcomed into the 21st century and actually owns a SCANNER! So, here it is. Guess which one is me. HINT: I'm not the one on the right. Question #2, guess which one is my sister.

Mooooo for Mama

As mentioned before, this little booger will say 'Maw-Maw' and 'Dada' all the live long day. Will he say 'Mama', 'Mommy', 'Mom', anything of the sort? No.

Mark was trying to get him to say 'Mom' this morning and he busts out with the exact same sound he makes for the cows mooing. It's like a 'Mmmmm', with a tiny bit of 'ooh' in it.

Mark thought it was funny that his cow sound and his mom sound were the same. Both providers of milk. Close enough.

Longing for Spring ..

I wasn't sure what to post about this morning, so I started looking through pics I have on my PC. I found this one from three years ago. It was March and the grass was so green, but some of the trees were still bare. The girls LOVE to sell lemonade, and the weather starts getting warm, he head out to do just that.

Just looking at the picture makes me long for Spring, and warm weather, and green grass and my phlox blooming! March is next month, right? I can make it!

Way Back Wednesday

I'm doing this again . . with another photo from my sparse stash. This was from April 1999 - so let's see almost 7 years ago. It's me (don't you love the green short-skirt suit, my friend Jolie, my friend Cindy, and Nonrev (he's a whole 'nother post by himself CRA-ZY!). We had gone to eat lunch at a Fuddrucker's (how I miss it, it's gone now, sniff sniff) and for some reason, decided to take this picture afterwards.

I'm going to have to use my mom's scanner to scan some old pictures if I want to keep this up.

"I'd rather have 'nothing' than have to give in!"

Just a quick Anna and Emma story from last night:

The three of us are playing Polly Pockets (my personal favorite all-time thing to play) and we're having our normal 'pageant' where we each get 5 Pollies, dress them up, and narrow it down one by one (beauty pageant style) until there's a winner.

Well, there's usually an argument about who gets to pick the winner. This is done when there are 2 left. One person picks them up, juggles them around while the other person closes their eyes and picks the winner. Neither of these people is ever me. (I know, this is crazy, but this IS my house, so what else would go on besides craziness?) Anyway, last night. It got down to this part and who was going to pick the winner.

It went something like this:

Anna: Okay, Emma went first picking who to 'vote out' (yes, we live EVERYTHING in the style of Survivor), so I'll pick the winner.

Me: Okay, that sounds fair.

Emma: Nooooo-awah!! I want to pick the winner. Mom said I could.

Me: Well, that was when . .

Anna: No, Mom said I could do it because you went first!

Emma: No, I get to do it.

Anna: (some whining something)

Emma: (some whining something in return)

Me: (thinking I'll nip this in the bud right away) Okay, well I guess we'll just have to stop playing and go to bed if y'all can't agree.

Anna: Okay!

Emma: Alright

And they both throw the Pollies in the 'Polly Bucket'.

Hence, the title. Even 'nothing', going to bed, no more playing, is BETTER than having to agree and give in.

Proof that I have two of the most stubborn children ever.

And where does 99% of that stubbornness come from?

That would be me.