AND THE WINNER IS. . .

Ok, that wasn't really supposed to be all caps, but. . .

The winner of the giveaway fun basket is "G"!!! Unfortunately, she must forfeit her prize for her comment regarding Tigers. . .just kidding. Please send me your contact info. You can either email me at rlkendr [at] yahoo.com.

Here are your random numbers:3
Timestamp: 2009-08-31 21:17:03 UTC

May you all have a great week!

Life in Paradise

Last week, I took my son out to dinner and a movie. While eating out, we saw my high school science teacher and my childhood Girl Scout leader. (They were not together.) It's certainly interesting living in Paradise. Paradise, as you know, is a town small enough that you always know or know of someone wherever you may go. It's more than just interesting, however. When you go to town and see someone like your former Girl Scout leader, the nicest woman who ever lived, you sit up a little straighter. You think before you speak. You worry about what others might think or say.

I was not perfect as a child, and I was even further from perfect as a teenager in Paradise. However, there is an accountability in small towns. I knew that whatever I did would probably get back to my parents at some point. Even if my parents didn't hear, there are somethings you don't want everyone in town talking about. . .

In these days of violent town hall meetings and constant bickering, I wonder what the world might be like if we all lived like we were in Paradise. . .If we all took the time to think before we spoke. . .If we were careful and considerate of how our actions affected those close to us. . .I know I'm not proposing any novel idea, but I do believe I'm proposing an idea that's long been abandoned by some.

I might die

She types, moving one finger at a time, trying somehow to type without moving. . .Alas, movement is inevitable, yet pain filled. . .

Exercise Rule #4: Thou shalt not tell thy trainer it is time to "step it up."

My trainer, Lady of Death, tried to kill me yesterday. She offered promises of buns of steel, a shapely waist, skinny clothes, and cruises clad in swimsuits. I, however, was not misled. While completing lunges of acrobatic type and enough squats to kill a frog, I mentioned her hedonistic personality that had suddenly emerged. She laughed and muttered something about "10 more."

I would hunt her down and hurt her today, but it's almost time to take more ibuprofen. I am also busy trying to take back every bad thing I said about movie stars. They earn every penny they're paid. It's tough work being skinny, and I'm not even there yet! Quick, someone find me a stunt double before next week!

Don't forget to sign up for my goodybag giveaway! You can enter by leaving a comment on this post or the previous post. Drawing will be August 28 @ noonish CST.

random thoughts. . .please join in

1. How can my brother and I be so different?
2. Where did my summer go and why is work so busy? (A twofer)
3. Will the Hogs have a winning year?
4. Will Kyler have a good year of school?
5. When will I win the lottery?
6. Will I hit my goal weight?
7. When will life slow down?
8. How does one handle family strife in a "normal" family?
9. How will I cope with the month of September with all the birthdays, etc., it brings? (Funny note: accidentally typed Septembeer--Freudian slip?)
10. Will we ever get our house ready to sell?

So, what's up with you?

It's been awhile since we had a giveaway. Let's say one lucky commenter will recieve a goody bag that has yet to be constructed. Just comment and I'll draw a number on Friday, August 28th, around noon CST. You do not need to have a blog--you can leave a comment annonymously, but make sure I can contact you somehow.

just sayin'

Now comes the time when I alienate EVERYONE who reads my blog. Yes, both of you.

Have you noticed how many. . .and here I'm not sure how to say this. . .

1. Blogs are written by Latter Day Saints

OR

2. Latter Day Saints blog.

I'm not Mormon, but I mean no disrespect to any LDS readers. In browsing blogs, I slowly began to notice that many were from Utah (not that everyone in Utah is LDS), and how many blogs in general were written by LDS moms.

Is it just me? Has anyone else noticed this? Or have I stumbled on some type of LDS blog link. . .(which I'm thinking is a possibility since LDS families are often large and perhaps the blog writers are all related, linking me from one to one to one. . .)

I love reading blogs, and there are some great blogs out there of LDS families. I just think it seems an oddly disproportionate number. . .

My head hurts. I feel like Seinfeld trying not to offend anyone (I'm not Mormon--not that there's anything wrong with that!). Comment, please. Weird blog connections you've witnessed, etc.?

my little (big) man

Kyler started 3rd grade on Wednesday. His teacher is a "hottie," in case you're wondering. He'll probably need three years of therapy when he finds out I quoted him about that on my blog. . .Oh, well, it won't be the only thing he needs therapy about.

Back to school. As a mom who works full time, I was really sad to see summer end this year. I miss getting to stay up later watching movies or taking a day off to go swimming, etc. (Not that we actually did much of that, but the option was there, ya' know?) However, I think 3rd grade is going to be a great year for my little (big) man. He came home yesterday and said, "It was AWESOME!" Praise from an 8-year-old does not get better than that.

When I dropped Kyler off at school this morning, my little (big) man asked me to walk him into his class one last time. It truly may be the last time, because I know that soon he won't want me to do anything for him. Having your mother walk in with you will be SO humiliating (with accompanying eye roll, if he's anything like I was. . .Note to self: Have I said sorry today to my parents?) I'm really surprised he allowed it now. This is the same child that began dressing himself at 2 1/2 years of age and taught HIMSELF how to ride a bike without training wheels. (There was a longer wait at the baby sitter's house for the bike with training wheels, so one day, he worked and he worked and he fell down and he worked and he fell down and he. . .until he could ride a bike without training wheels.)

I'm not sure how I got lucky enough to walk in with him this morning, but I'm grateful for these days--these days when I see that flicker of the little boy that he will always be to me. God truly blessed me when he gave me my little (big) man.

ever notice. . .

1. Did you ever notice that bad things come in a string? My daughter has pneumonia (in August. . .). My son is having stomach issues. What's next? Forgive me for being absent. I seem to be fighting off plagues, frost bite, etc., before school starts. . .

2. Did you ever notice that if you wait till the last moment to buy school supplies, there will be NO pencils. Sure, they have ink pens in all shapes, sizes, colors, etc., but they require pencils in third grade. There will also be only pink pencil boxes, and even if your son is colorblind, it is inadvisable to buy him a pink pencil box. . .

3. Did you ever notice that just about the time you give up on your husband doing something romantic, he puts the kids to bed or takes you out to eat or does the dishes? It's the little things, y'all.

4. Did you ever notice that flat tires only occur at inopportune moments? For the record, I have no future as a NASCAR pit crew member, but I can change a flat tire in slightly under an hour. Of course, if they had to clean out the back of the race car to get to the spare, we might have comparable times. . .

5. Did you ever notice that God answers prayers in the strangest ways?

6. Did you ever notice that summer goes way too fast?

That said, God is good. He has blessed us exponentially and continues to bless us. School starts Wednesday. Please pray with me that Kyler has an amazing teacher like last year.

butterflies don't do that

Kev doesn't care for pizza. . .normally. He will occasionally eat it, but he NEVER asks for it. A few weekends ago, he asked to go out to "the Hut" for pizza on Saturday night, which is a story unto itself. . .Once I ascertained he was not kidding, was not feverish, and truly did want to eat pizza, I agreed.

On the way, Kady asked what was on the windshield. It was bird poop. (Didn't see that one coming, did you?) We explained that a bird had pooped on Daddy's windshield, which then led to a long conversation. Eventually, the two-year-old tired of learning why exactly (her daddy thinks) a bird poops on a windshield, and she pointed out a butterfly outside her window. Kevin (being himself) began teasing her about her new found butterfly pooping on the windshield. She quickly informed him otherwise. "Daddy, I lub (love) butterflies. Butterflies do NOT poop." Who could doubt the logic in that?

Ssssssssshhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh!!!

We're back from vacation, and I have to say that vacation rocks. Work, well, it's here. . . : )

Don't tell my hubby, but I took the kiddos to have their pictures professionally made while we were on vacation. For the sneak peek, go HERE. (Scroll down to see big brother, little sister pics.) Didn't she do a fabulous, amazing job?!

More about our vacation exploits later. . .Work beckons.

You've got WHAT on your hands?

This post was originally published on Wednesday, November 12, 2008. This post has gotten more comments than any other I've ever written. I guess doe pee resonates--who knew?!

Forgive me in advance for any false information I share. I am not a deer hunter. I grew up around them. I might have even attempted the hunting thing a time or two. However, the only deer I've ever killed was trying to outrun my car. . .Another story for another day. . .

Kev and Kyler went hunting close to our house this weekend. In fact, they just walked out in "our" woods to their tree stand to hunt. Can we just take a moment for me to realize how blessed I am?

Ok, I'm back. Kyler is really beginning to enjoy this hunting thing, so Kev is letting him do more and more. This time he let Kyler drag the "scent." This involves putting doe pee on a cotton ball and pulling it with a string to lure the buck in. (The buck smells a doe and comes around to find the amazingly, seductive-smelling doe.) Now, most of you are thinking doe pee is not high on the list of things you want to smell in your life. I can now assure you that you are right.

Apparently, somewhere on the way to the tree stand, Kyler dropped the string upon which the cotton ball was attached. Kevin realized this when he turned around and saw Kyler HOLDING the cotton ball. He asked Kyler why he was holding the cotton ball, and Kyler said he had dropped the string. At which time, he apparently thought it would be easier to just hold the cotton ball containing doe urine. . .Really, Kev, it's not like you explained the process to your son. . .(Can you picture Kyler's mind working to try and figure out exactly why pulling a cotton ball on a string was going to make them better deer hunters? I can.)

Kyler then spent the next hour or so sitting in a tree, smelling like a deer whizzed on him, and (bless his heart) holding his hand up for the wind to blow the smell off him. Ah, good times. When they came home, Kyler was sent to wash his hands IMMEDIATELY. When he returned, he (Moms, y'all know where this is going. . .) asked (not his dad but) me to smell his hands. Let's just say he had to rewash them. . .In closing, let me share what we learned from this experience.

Lessons learned:

1. The cotton ball goes on the ground.
2. At all times, the cotton ball goes on the ground.
3. DO NOT TOUCH the cotton ball.
4. Boys are gross.
5. Wind, water, soap, steel wool, acid (I jest) will not remove the scent of doe urine.
6. Do NOT respond to the words, "Mom, smell this."
7. Ever.
8. No matter what.

swallow--don't gag! no, swallow, now!! revisited

Originally published Friday, August 8, 2008, and yes, I'm still late to everything!

Those of you who know me well know that I am NEVER on time. (Don't tell my dad! He's always 90 minutes early. "Better get there. Something could happen, you know?" "What, Dad? A nuclear holocaust? In that case, Dr. Ezell will have bigger things to do than work on your teeth!")

I am lucky that work allows me to be. . .um. . .flexible in my arrival and departure. Amazingly, I was running ahead of schedule this morning. (I know, makes you wonder about the state of the universe, huh?) Well, I called work this morning to ask if I should make the blessed Friday donut run. They were amazed that I was out and about that early. After assuring them I was who I said I was, and no, I didn't get cloned by aliens or stay out all night. . .(Really, what is their opinion of me??), I headed to the donut store. Turns out I would still be late to work. . .

Have you ever tried to talk a 7yo into swallowing a pill? (Kyler has an ear infection, and I have to say, he swallowed the pill with little difficulty last night.) After 30(!) minutes of cajoling, harassing, threatening, etc., I left him hysterical and me emotionally traumatized. (And we wasted 3 good antibiotic pills!) We have since befriended the pharmacist and gotten liquid medicine. Some things are not meant to happen! (Sorry, Dad!)