just another day in paradise

New motto

2011-12-18T22:33:00.001-06:00

There's a reason God made 'em family. You sure wouldn't pick 'em as friends! : )

Enjoy the holidays, peeps! : )

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The Power of the Crown

2011-10-19T18:52:00.001-05:00

I was once the Beef Princess. I've blogged about it before and even included a picture on here before. . .it was a long time ago, and about the only thing currently useful about thar distinction I'd the crown Kady gets to play with.

Moving on.

Today was Kady's day to bring something for show and tell. She very carefully and proudly took my crown, trophy, and a newspaper clipping to show the kids.

Then, after I picked Kady up, I made a phone call to my bank. I guess Kady thought I needed a little help with my request, because in the background Kady was saying, "tell them you're the beef princess!!". Then, in a little sigh and a voice full of hope, I heard, "I wish I could be the beef princess." I only wish that crown held as much power as she thinks it does. . .

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Our new camper

2011-07-20T16:35:00.001-05:00

This post is mostly for my mom, who wanted to see pictures of our new camper. Here's the full size shower...

And the bedroom...

And living area/dining as you walk in the door...

And the kitchen

And looking back towards the bedroom from the kitchen.

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An absolutely wonderful mother's day

2011-05-15T22:25:00.001-05:00

I got to do exactly what I wanted for mother's day. We rode horses. Kady even rode with us and didn't have an asthma attack!! I'm hoping my summer involves many more days of this...

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You can't argue with her logic...

2011-04-25T21:38:00.001-05:00

"Mama, it's been raining for days!". (It has.)

"Make it stop. I want the sunshine to come out."

We need rain to make the flowers grow, Kady...

"But we need sunshine, too!!!!!"

Easter Fun!

2011-04-24T13:42:00.001-05:00

Being silly at the end of our photo session.

Kyler with Miriam and Jeremiah

The girl cousins

Nana and papa with the grandkids

Kady, kyler, and moi

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The princess can handle it

2011-04-21T21:17:00.001-05:00

Kady has always been more prissy and girly than I've ever dreamed of being. The child thinks pink is the only acceptable color. I've often wondered if this "princess attitude" would hamper her ability to be independent. I feel much better after last weekend's events.

Kady was in the bathroom, getting ready for church, when I heard the most high-pitched, girly scream you can imagine.

"augh!! A spider!!"

This was quickly followed by her very practical, no nonsense statement of "what should I whack it with.". She then proceeded to kill the attack spider with my sneaker. You know, I'm thinking a child that can kill her own spiders is going to be ok in the world. : )

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Testing, testing...

2011-04-20T21:00:00.001-05:00

Branson mini vacation over spring break

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recent kady-isms

2011-01-24T15:22:00.000-06:00

When the dance teacher mentioned the ambulance going by (with siren blaring) and said she hoped everyone was ok, kady said, "they're probably just checking to make sure no one's hurt."

When we were late to dance again...Kady said, "it's ok, mom, remember? She said last week that it's ok!"

While talking to herself on the way to church..."everyone should always do what God wants, always...and whoever has the most glitter WINS!"

While setting up chutes and ladders, "I want to play by myself, because I DON't LIKE TO LOSE!!!" Hmm, not sure where that trait comes from...

My baby on our four-legged baby last spring

2010-12-22T12:26:00.001-06:00

kyler on Junebug, spring 2010

good question

2010-10-07T11:39:00.000-05:00

We had to make a stop at the doughnut shop yesterday morning. Yes, we HAD to. I promised Kady. (And it had nothing to do with the fatty, gooey goodness that was in the doughnut shop. . .)

[wipes crumbs off shirt]

Anyway, as we're waiting in line, Kady noticed the dogcatcher in line in front of us. I didn't even know she knew what the dogcatcher's truck looked like, but apparently he sometimes stops in at the-best-babysitter-in-the-world's house to visit with her husband/talk to the kids. (I told you Paradise was a small town!)

After pointing out the dogcatcher, Kady asked, "Mom, why are there not cat catchers?"

I explained that I thought the dog catcher did double-duty, catching what needed to be caught.

Kady, however, knew that couldn't be right. After all, the dog catcher has dog paw prints painted on his truck but NO cat prints.

So. . .why are there no cat catchers? : )

kady: attitude and sass abound

2010-10-06T11:35:00.002-05:00

Even wonder what exactly my daughter's personality would look like in the form of clothing?

[Well, pretend you have.]

Look no farther. I could not have summed up her personality better than the outfit she has on today. She's wearing pink cowboy boots, a pink and yellow tutu, and a t-shirt that reads "saw it, wanted it, had a fit, got it--Cowgirls Unlimited."

THAT is my Kady girl.

RIP Ellie

2010-09-15T16:19:00.003-05:00

Item # 387, 423 "they" didn't tell you about before you had children:

Kady attended an awesome birthday party this weekend. It had a circus theme complete with a jump house and clowns. The clowns provided face painting and balloon animals (none of that scary clown stuff!). Kady chose a balloon elephant, which miraculously did not get popped. If this had been Kyler's balloon, he would have popped it within five minutes, had a minor meltdown, and moved on. Kady on the other hand, has named her elephant. She even tucks him in under a blankie each night.

Last night, we noticed Ellie (the balloon elephant) was slowly dying. . .or deflating for those of you still in the real world. Poor Ellie is suffering a slow, horrible death, which is traumatizing my daughter. She wakes up and immediately checks to see how Ellie is doing. We get home, and she determines how much more air Ellie has left. Unfortunately, Ellie is on his last breath (forgive the pun), and there's nothing this mama can do. . .unless someone can teach me how to make a balloon elephant in the next 12-48 hours. . .

Monkey What?

2010-08-13T15:36:00.004-05:00

I bought a candle last weekend, which is not an unusual occurrence for me. I love candles. This is the first time I've ever bought a candle with this particular scent, however. One look at the candle and I could not resist. It was definitely original, and the scent was. . .um, different--not bad different, just different.

The scent?

Monkey Farts.

Yep, you read that right. I'm saving it to use as a prank gift at Christmas (so if you're related to me, watch out. . .). I didn't realize monkeys were indigenous to Mississippi. . .Did you?

The NEW Crocodile Hunter

2010-08-12T10:37:00.003-05:00

Kev knows no fear. The man loves adrenaline. He gladly tries any new adventure. Learning to ski as an adult? Done it. Hunt mysterious animals in the middle of nowhere? Repeatedly. Try the world's largest roller coaster? Sure, let's do it again. . .

Luckily for Kev, our little man, Kyler, is also quite the adventurer. He's tough as can be and loves trying new things. I have to constantly tell him not to run his horse, because fast is the only speed that boy knows. He kinda reminds me of Hammy on caffeine from Over the Hedge--remember that scene?

And then we had a girl. Kev worried and fretted about what this would mean. He has no sisters. He had no idea what to do with a girl. Tiaras and tea cups were foreign to my big, burly husband. Somewhere in that big jumble of chromosomes that is Kady, however, is the speed gene. Kady's first trip on the 4-wheeler ended with the words, "Go fast, Daddy, go fast!" This pink-loving, dress-wearing little girl is Kev's little adrenaline junky. (We went to a Japanese steak house this weekend. Her narrative of the events glossed over the FIRE, and instead, detailed our near-death driving experience and the fact that we drove SO FAST!!)

This morning, Lightning McKady was reminiscing. (Who knew 3-year-olds had so much to reminisce about. . .)

Mom, remember when you, me, Daddy, and Brother went in that little boat down the river?

Yep. That boat is called a canoe.

Well, it would have been more fun if there had been crocodiles.

and the award goes to. . .

2010-08-06T15:42:00.002-05:00

We're in Mississippi--again!! We're on one last before-school-starts trip to see Kev. It was a very boring, uninspiring trip down here. . .until we were five minutes from our destination. That's when Kady decided she had to go to the bathroom and SHE COULD NOT WAIT. If you have kids, you know that when kid has to go, you better find a bathroom NOW. We stopped at the first gas station we came to, with Kady assuring me the entire time that she was JUST ABOUT TO GO--NOW!! We took one look at the bathroom, and I freaked. I've seen nasty, but this was radioactive. (Brief synopsis: unisex bathroom with visual filth, dirty mop and mop water in front of toilet, broken-long-ago soap dispenser and sink, mysterious cup sitting next to toilet, etc.) I immediately threatened my daughter within an inch of her life if she touched anything--including the sink. (I asked if she was sure she couldn't wait, and ever the optimist, she said, "um, maybe I can wait," as she danced in place. . .) I held her over the toilet and we did the "hover pee" maneuver that many of us perfected back when gas stations had outside bathrooms with keys the size of a yardstick that you had to go inside and ask for(remember those?). We then found anything we could thing of to try to sanitize our hands, e.g., Germ-X, saniwipes, bleach, mysterious acid found in car. . .The wait is on to see if we caught something contagious. . .If you need to know where the nastiest bathroom in America is, I can show you--well, at least tell you. I'm not ever going back there!

Mickey Mouse, a Dream, and a Rebel Named Nutt

2010-08-02T15:15:00.007-05:00

Alternately Titled: I've ruined her geography skills for life or Squashing a Dream

Some people give birth to children that have MAD geography SkILz. I do not. Sure, my daughter can find her way around the small town of Paradise, but then, if you can walk in a straight line, so can you. The problem became apparent when Kev began talking about a job in Florida, you know, where the mouse with big ears and the princess in a shiny palace live. Ssssooooo, like so many insane parents out there, we tentatively began (possibly) planning a summer getaway to Disney World.

Alas, the job in Florida was not to be. Instead, Kev wound up in Mississippi--still hot, still a Southern state, but not quite the same. Kady, however, became completely confused. This confusion grew as our impending travel date to Mississippi grew closer. Somehow, my attempts to ease this confusion made it worse. Our conversations went something like this.

Kady: I want to go to Mickey-ippi.

Me: We ARE, but we're not going to Disney World.

Kady: Uh-huh. I want to go to Mickey-ippi AND go to MICKEY'S HOUSE.

(At which time, she would become so excited that all rationalization was lost.)

Thus, I fear her attitude towards Mississippi shall forever be biased. . .although on the plus side, this could insure that I NEVER, EVER have to cheer for this man again. . .

Thank you, Mickey-ippi, thank YOU.

my redneck gripe with the rebels

2010-07-27T23:14:00.000-05:00

Hubs is working in Mississippi these days. We visited him this past weekend. My biggest complaint with the grand state of Mississippi? Y'alls bathrooms in your Wal-Marts are backwards. The women's bathroom is on the side that the men's should be on. Yes, you may judge me, but please, please be nice about it. My fragile redneck self can't take too much criticism after the fun (but tiring) weekend we had.

dear mr. postman

2010-07-15T19:40:00.005-05:00

Please excuse the rant...it had to go somewhere.

Dear Mr. Postman,

I'm not sure what has you so confused lately. Whether it's the fact that my last name AND address are posted on my mailbox or the fact that you've been delivering our mail for 4 years now, please overcome the obstacle so that I might get MY mail and NOT my neighbor's. After a long day at work, it does me no good to find medicaid notices for the neighbor's dozen kids (with a dozen last names) or their mail from their parole officer or their (continuing) unemployment benefit status or their subscription to Pit Bull Illustrated...Whatever it takes is worth it. By the way, can I interest you in a beautiful house in a wonderful neighborhood? I hear it's got great neighbors...

Sincerely,

Rachel in Paradise

those crazy americans

2010-07-07T15:39:00.003-05:00

I have a well-traveled friend ("Mrs. C"). She's always going on one vacation or another. I, on the other hand, have never travelled to exotic locales and am always interested in hearing more about one place or another. Mrs. C apparently has specific packing requirements for each of her trips, which she passes along to all who accompany her. It was with much laughter that Mrs. C and a fellow traveller relayed this story.

Mrs. C enjoys bringing many souvenirs back from her travels, and is thus, always looking for more room in her suitcase. Therefore, she throws her dirty underwear away. (Her rationale? "Who wants to carry dirty underwear around for a couple of weeks?") This has proved quite useful on several trips. However, on her first trip to Paris, Mrs. C must have royally confused the housekeeper. The poor housekeeper found dirty underwear in the trashcan EVERY DAY, but she dutifully folded it up and placed it near Mrs. C's bags. Can't you hear her muttering now? "Crazy Americans--this is no laundry service!"

you know you live in a small town when, version 3,586

2010-07-05T23:46:00.002-05:00

Mary Poppins, our wonderful fantabulous baby sitter had a bit of a crisis last week. Her husband had a heart attack. He's doing MUCH better now and things are back on their way to being semi-normal. I'm sure part of the quick healing has occured due to the high number of prayers and well wishes for this family...In fact, he received 2 get well cards on Friday. One was from his ex-wife and her third husband. The other was from his ex-wife's second ex-husband...only in a small town like Paradise... : )

it's actually kinda logical

2010-06-25T22:00:00.002-05:00

Like all kids, Kady has went through the bandaid obsession phase. You would find her covered in bandaids anytime she stumbled across them. They would be on her arms, legs, stomach, face--it didn't matter as long as she managed to use the whole box. However, I think we're slowly outgrowing this phase...

Tonight's conversation with Kady:

Me: Kady, go put those bandaids up now.

Kady: I can't Mom. I'm looking for a boo boo.

I don't envy her

2010-06-24T09:55:00.002-05:00

I dropped Kady off at the best-baby-sitter-in-the-world's (henceforth known as Mary Poppins) house yesterday. As I was leaving, one little girl (We'll call her Abby.) asked if Mary Poppins knew where her doll was.

Mary Poppins: No, I didn't even know you brought your doll today. . .

Abby: Oh, I didn't bring my doll to your house.

Mary Poppins (to me): Do you see why I have gray hair?

I can honestly say I have the best baby-sitter in the world, and you could not pay me enough to do her job!

Names have been changed.

On days like today. . .

2010-06-23T13:48:00.003-05:00

I really, really miss my favorite car ever. It was the first "new" car Kev and I bought together, and we had it over 10 years. And I seriously want it back. . .

Sometimes being a responsible adult is not all it's cracked up to be. . .

creepy crawly went too far

2010-06-22T16:21:00.002-05:00

There are very distinct divisions of labor in my household--despite the fact that my husband is away from home frequently. These divisions are especially apparent when it comes to rodent and pest removal. Kev is responsible for the absolute destruction of all snakes and mice--especially the mice. I hate those blasted things. I, on the other hand, am responsible for the removal of all creepy crawly spiders.

These divisions became rock solid a few years ago. Kev, who had never been a friend of spiders, was bitten a few years ago by a brown recluse. He sought quick medical attention due to the fact that one of his coworkers was, at that time, recovering with a wound vac on his back side to heal his spider bite. (That can leave a big impression on even a macho man. . .) Kev recovered fairly quickly, but he still has a round scar on his leg. I, on the other hand, do not mind the eight-legged creatures. Sure, I would prefer the poisonous ones stay out of my house, but most of the time, I catch and release the little buggers.

This weekend, we made a quick trip to Branson. Arriving at our destination, I looked up and noticed a "dead" spider near my window. I attempted to brush the poor little guy out, when he decided to wake up. And JUMP. The nasty little creepy crawler jumped on my leg and started crawling up my pants, while I was shooing him frantically off my leg. He kept going, and I started to panic. . .you know, not wanting to have a wound vac attached to my crotch and all. . .Finally, I unbuckled my seat belt and jumped out of the car like the Boogie Man himself was about to get me. . .to find several vacationers watching the speedy exit of one pleasantly plump blond from a dirty SUV.

I'm turning over a new leaf. My new motto? A dead spider is a good spider. Dang Charlotte's Web. . .

it's a small world

2010-06-18T12:28:00.000-05:00

Paradise has been filled with lots of horseback riding this spring and summer. After years of giving it up, I'm back in the saddle. Not that the saddle fits the same, mind you. . .) Kyler and I are entering the horse showing world. We're learning lots and gradually improving. Hopefully, I will have updates on that eventually. This post, however, is all about Kady-bug.

Kady has a pony. Her name is KoolAid, and she's more pet than actual riding pony. (Don't you just love her name?) She's old, has bad knees, and just can't take much riding. (I know the feeling, girl, I know the feeling. . .) However, Kady talks about her like they've competed and won at the National Finals Rodeo repeatedly and plan to do so again. That girl LOVES that pony.

A few weekends ago, we attended the rodeo in my hometown. While walking past the bucking horses, Kady, who never met a stranger, started talking to them.

"HEY, HORSIES! How are you? Do you know my horsie? Her name's KoolAid!"

Because, you know, they might, um, run in the same, er, pastures?

car crazy

2010-06-17T16:49:00.000-05:00

Let's go 3 for 3 shall we? The last two posts have been about kids and cars, so we'll just continue that here. Kyler is 9 1/2. The legal driving age in the state of Arkansas is 16. He's been very upset lately. It seems the local Ford dealership sold the Mustang he had picked out. He has recently become very obsessed with Mustangs, and he had decided that THAT Mustang should be his. Seriously. Very upset. . . I may not make it through the actual teenage years.

wrapped

2010-06-15T16:42:00.002-05:00

You remember that new (used) truck I mentioned in the last post? We've been driving it quite a bit. The kids love riding in the big, tall pick up. The other night, Kev drove the kids home in his new truck, and I attempted to drive the large, impossible-to-see-behind-you work truck. (If I met you on the road, I'm sorry. I'm pretty sure I took my half of the road out of the middle.) Anyway, Kady asked Kev if she could have the truck when she got big. She said she wanted to drive the truck and get a boyfriend. . .I'm pretty sure his heart jumped a beat or two. . .He bargained with her, saying, "How about if you take the truck and DON'T have a boyfriend?" She agreed, "OK, I'll just marry you, Daddy." And he is now OFFICIALLY wrapped around that little girl's finger.

it's all about the smell

2010-06-03T10:12:00.003-05:00

Kevin bought a new (used) truck. He bought it to drive when he's home, so he's not having to drive his work truck. He also graciously allows his wife to drive it. . .occasionally. Tuesday, I had a low tire on my car, so we all jumped in the truck and took off to town. On the way home, Kady sniffed really loudly and announced, "I like Daddy's truck--it smells GOOD!" It must be the vanilla air freshener my macho husband hung. . .personally, I thought it smelled like a public bathroom air freshener. Don't tell Kev.

at least she's trying to clean up after herself, right?

2010-05-27T11:15:00.004-05:00

Kady stayed with Moo Moo yesterday. They went to Wal-Mart, where Moo Moo apparently walked in, raised her arms, and announced, "Choose anything you wish, my darling granddaughter." At least, that's the only possibility I can come up with, considering the variety of goods Kady brought home. There were the hair barrettes, and the new toothbrushes ("one for me and one for brother!"). Then, there were the snacks. . .

and Kady's all time favorite. . .
Both of which somehow found their way to the refrigerator, so in case you were worried, Kady's marshmallows and goldfish did not ruin over night. . .Not that she wants to share. : )

We R Redneck, edition 562

2010-05-21T06:02:00.000-05:00

Through this blog, I've slowly allowed myself to accept the idea that I am, in fact, redneck. (You might remember THIS post. . .) Kevin has always readily admitted his redneck tendencies, which he has passed willingly and purposefully to our children. Want proof? In language arts, Kyler has been studying parts of speech. His teacher had them make a mobile of sorts in which the students named nouns. Kyler had the following nouns listed.

His best friend
Michael Waddell, a professional hunter who appears in most hunting videos that Kyler has watched
tree stand
the local tire shop
Bass Pro Shops
tom turkey
coon

Kev is way more proud of this than I am. I am wondering where I went wrong. . .

what was he thinking?

2010-05-19T11:12:00.002-05:00

Kyler's school is having a party for those children who met their reading goals in 3 out of 4 semesters. I am very proud to say that Kyler has met his goal in each semester so far. That makes me a little curious as to why he's suddenly trying so hard to make his goal in this last semester. I receive an email each time he takes a quiz over a book. Recently, he has started taking a quiz on every book he's ever read. . .or apparently, every book he's never read. This morning, I received this email. . .

Dear Rachel,

Kyler took an Accelerated Reader Reading Practice Quiz.
Title: El Capitán Calzoncillos y la invasión de las horribles señoras...
Author: Dav Pilkey
Score: 30% correct, earning 0.0 points

My son, the monolingual speaker. . .We obviously need to have a chat.

questions you don't ever want to ask

2010-05-17T16:32:00.002-05:00

#1. What is that on the toilet seat?
#2. Why would there be popsicle juice on the toilet seat?

There was lots of fog this morning. Kady asked why we could see the sky this morning, which felt very reminiscent of Chicken Little screaming, "The sky is falling!"

26

2010-05-13T16:25:00.003-05:00

Hubs rented a storage unit while we attempt to downsize in hopeful anticipation of putting our house on the market. (I think I'm the Queen of Clutter. . .) Anyway, I was worried I wouldn't be able to remember which unit was ours. . .until he told me the number. It's the same age I've been for the past 4 1/2 years! As long as I don't age, I should have no trouble remembering our storage unit!

my stinky child

2010-05-11T16:00:00.002-05:00

What are little boys made of?
Frogs and snails
And puppy-dogs' tails,
That's what little boys are made of.

What are little girls made of?
Sugar and spice
And all that's nice,
That's what little girls are made of.

We've all heard the rhyme. I always thought it was a little bit of a disservice to little boys, but what do I know. . .After having a little boy AND a little girl, I can attest to the fact that they are completely different. Kyler is definitely ALL boy. And that? That can mean stinky, smelly, and gross.

I once again have a horrible smell emanating from my car. (The most embarrassing part of that sentence is the "once again".) Anyway, the last time I had this odor in my car, I found a mildewed, dirty, icky sock crammed way back under Kyler's seat. I'm still trying to locate this smell. . .As to what little boys are made of, I can't be sure, but I can assure you the smell is reproachable.

a rare romantic moment

2010-05-10T14:40:00.004-05:00

We went canoeing this weekend--more about that later. As the shuttle (an old school bus) was taking us to the river, Kyler turned around and caught Kevin and I stealing a kiss. He asked, "Are you guys having a romantic moment back there or what?!" To which Kev replied, "We haven't had one of those in 9 long years. . ." ; )

how to sell jeans. . .eventually

2010-05-06T08:10:00.000-05:00

So, I know I promised this a few, um, ~~days~~ weeks ago, so here goes for anyone still hanging around. . .

Background: Kevin was working in Shreveport. I went to visit, and Kev encouraged me to go shopping. . .My first stop was Cavendar's Western Wear, where I planned to purchase a pair of boots (I last purchased boots when I was 15. . .), a pair of jeans, and maybe a nice shirt to wear out that night.

The Cavendar's employee approached me just as I managed to knock over a display of boots. (Oh, yes I did!) The employee shall henceforth be referred to as CG (Cavendar's Girl). CG asked if I needed any help. Considering the last time I purchased boots and jeans, I was essentially a small person lighter, I thought another opinion might be helpful. After picking up the boot boxes and deciding on a pair to buy, CG asked what size jeans I wear. I answered xy.*

Her response?

"Oh, I don't think so. You don't look like an xy to me. You look smaller."

Although I appreciated her improvement as to my physical size and shape, I assured her I was, in fact, an xy. . .

so she brought me a size xu to try on. . .

and I couldn't get it past my knees.

She tried again with a size xx,

which was, of course, too small.

So, she finally returned with a size xy,

which was also too small. . .

To which she responded,

"OK, now you're my personal mission, and I will find you a pair of jeans that fits!"

And she did. . .

after approximately 45 minutes and untold pairs of jeans. I'm extremely satisfied with the fit of the jeans she sold me, and you can't argue with the personalized service; however, when a pleasantly plump woman announces she's a size xy, you should never, ever doubt that she's at least that size. . .

*and you're crazy if you think I would allow my size to be posted on the internet. . . : )

only I could. . .

2010-05-05T06:24:00.000-05:00

Only I could get stopped for speeding in the middle of our small town.

Only I could get stopped for speeding in the middle of our small town on the way to take Kyler to school.

Only I could get stopped for speeding in the middle of our small town on the way to take Kyler to school on the very day that we're running late.

Only I could get stopped for speeding in the middle of our small town on the way to take Kyler to school on the very day that we're running late AND Kyler has his class field trip.

[sigh]

Yes, I am THAT mom. . .

*The very nice policeman gave me a verbal warning to slow down. This was far better than Kyler's fear of me getting a ticket for $7,000 and not being able to pay it. . .apparently, speeding tickets are costly in Paradise--who knew?!

sunny days update

2010-05-04T12:46:00.002-05:00

Hello. I'm ba-ack! We'll see how long I manage to keep up this time. . .

We have been very busy in Paradise. Thanks to the beautiful weather, we've been spending evenings and weekends outside. . .doing anything BUT housework. Thus, my house looks as if it's been hit from a cyclone from the inside out but my yard is pretty.

We spent last weekend at Nana and Papa's riding horses. Since the horses hadn't been ridden all winter (and are young and less predictable), we took them to the nearby arena. I'm happy to say I didn't get to see just how soft the arena dirt was. Kyler and I rode with my brother for hours on Saturday and Sunday! [humming Back in the Saddle]

Kyler is quite a horseman these days. He spends the time on his horse day dreaming of one rodeo after another, but I'm just glad he's riding. We're even talking about going on some all-day trail rides this year.

Kady decided this year that she wants to be a cowgirl. She has ridden twice so far this year and is loving it. I'm so happy! She rode Kyler's horse in the arena on Saturday and did awesome!!! She does have a lot to learn, such as the lingo. I rode beside her on my horse, and my dad led her around on Kyler's horse. She looked over and said, "Mama, I like your seat," while pointing to my saddle. I said, "Thank you, Kady, but it's called a saddle." She said, "Mama, you're supposed to say 'I like your seat, too, Kady.'"

One more Kady-ism: When Nana was carrying her over to the horse, Kady looked down and yelled, "DON'T STEP ON THE BEAUTIFUL FLOWERS, NANA!" Thankfully, all of the dandelions were saved.

Thought for the Day

2010-04-15T12:53:00.002-05:00

Family:

God gave us the family we have, because He knew that's the only way we'd associate with those people. . .

Feel free to discuss. : )

And no, I don't hate my family. I LOVE most of my family. I just don't count some of those people I'm related to as family. . . : )

I'm sorry/You're welcome

2010-04-12T13:14:00.003-05:00

If you know me at all, you know my drugs of choice are cheesecake, chocolate, and Diet Dr. Pepper. Recently, I've been introduced to a new version of drug, more specifically a new candy bar. It is a candy bar so rich and scrumptious that you will not be able to resist. If you're partial to your size 6 jeans, run away now. If you want to experience the chocolaty goodness that I now need a daily fix of, BEHOLD. . .Seriously, I feel like I'm pushing the chocolate equivalent of heroin. . .

Attack of the Pouffy Hair

2010-04-06T16:15:00.003-05:00

Kady, who has beautiful naturally curly hair that inevitably gets wild by the end of the day, spent yesterday at Moo Moo's house. Moo Moo has a next door neighbor that always has fun kiddos to play with, whether they are visiting grandchildren or foster kiddos. Yesterday, Kady met a new best friend. (They're all best friends at this age. If you meet Kady, you too, are her new best friend.) Apparently, these girls really did have a blast together. In fact, Kady's new best friend told Kady, "I have a friend named Katie where I live. She has pouffy hair, too." Well, there you go. I think she meant it as a compliment, dear. . .

Goodbye Shreveport

2010-03-26T07:31:00.000-05:00

Kev's work in Louisiana appears to be over. Here are some things I'll miss about Shreveport.

Shreveport is a city full of friendly people from a variety of backgrounds. Unfortunately, it appears to have an identity crisis. It's not really big enough to be a big city, but it's much bigger than a big town. I guess it's a small city. It's in the corner of Louisiana, with some Cajun-ness, but also a lot of Southern and Texan personality thrown in. I guess that's why it's doubled as so many cities in movies.
needing to use my Southern dialect versus my Redneck/Hick dialect in order to be understood, which I'm proficient at thanks to a father from Pine Bluff, Arkansas. . .
seeing Washaterias. My father always called laundry mats washaterias, but I've never seen them called that elsewhere. . .
The food: steaks at Saltgrass (amazing!!), burgers at Whattaburger (yummy!), breakfast with *free* entertainment at Waffle House (including the guy with the money safety-pinned to his apron. . .), and various seafood munchies thrown in. [sigh]
The hair cut lady at the mall. Her name is Kamey, and she cut my hair, Kev's hair, and Kyler's hair, and did a phenomenal job each time.
listening to books on tape. I never do this at home, but it's such an easy way to entertain on the road.
shopping. Believe it or not, I actually enjoyed buying things for me and the kids when we were in Louisiana.
The sales people at Cavendar's Western Wear. . . story forthcoming, I promise.

What I won't miss about Shreveport. . .

The sales people at Cavendar's Western Wear. . .see above.
the lack of family entertainment. We're not casino people, and there's not a lot for kids to do in Shreveport.
educating my son on the ways of the world, which are significantly absent or at least well hidden in Paradise. . .
The drive.
especially if driven with 2 tired, cranky kids. . .
Enough Said.

Soon enough, we'll be on to our next adventure. Who knows where Kev will be working next, so be on the lookout for our wild bunch in a city near you. (OH, the horror! Can you imagine seeing our bunch in your neighborhood blue giant store? I can assure you that we're every bit as loud and crazy in person. . .)

Raising a Princess

2010-03-24T16:17:00.003-05:00

Kev is bald. He has a little less hair than when he was eighteen, but mostly, he's always kept his hair cut very, very, very short. Enter Princess Kady. I am not a girly-girl, but somehow, my daughter totally is. She LOVES the color pink, dresses, and fixing her hair. Remember the hair-cut lady experience? She's already asking for another hair cut.

Last weekend, we went to Louisiana to see Kev--very low maintenance, very bald Kev. We were getting ready Saturday morning when I realized I had forgotten Kady's hair products. We always use mousse or gel in her very curly hair, and I had brought nothing. . .As I break the news that we had nothing to use on her hair, Kady takes matters into her own hands. She leans out of the bathroom and yells,

"What you got? You got mousse? You got gel? What you got, Daddy?"

hi ho, hi ho, to louisiana we go

2010-03-17T11:50:00.002-05:00

Sorry, I have no time to update now. We leave for Louisiana on Friday. Wish me luck. I have a dirty house, a mountain of dirty clothes, no energy, and two very tired kiddos. Have I mentioned I HATE all time changes? I do. Anyway, we are spending a few days of spring break with Kev, although he will most likely be working the entire time. That translates into massive amounts of needed distractions for the kids. All ideas welcome. Please!! However, if we forget clothes or toys or anything else, at least we have our very own copy of The Princess and the Frog to watch. . .Never fear, all is right in Kady's world. : ) Our only concern is how she'll be able to dance when she's strapped in her car seat, because that girl? She danced like crazy when we took her to see it in the theater.

This kind of thing only happens to me, 468th edition

2010-03-03T16:37:00.003-06:00

By my calculation, I've had 11 prior posts dealing with deer. (From, the "oops, I hit a deer" post to the "what's he got on his hands" post to the yep, that's our very own deer head in that picture post to the post where I try to make use sound LESS redneck but actually do the opposite, deer are everywhere. . .) Thus, I'm in the dangerous position of labelling myself a redneck once and forever by writing this post. Stay focused, however, and let's lay blame where it's truly due: Bethany. It's all her fault. In THIS post from yesterday, she asked readers to detail what grosses them out. It just so happened that I was having one of THOSE days. . .

I walked in the door at work to our new therapist and a patient asking me if I noticed the dead deer in the parking lot. Yep. You read that right. I looked out the window, and sure enough, there was a dead deer that had presumably been hit by a car and collapsed, blocking the main (but obviously not the one that I use) exit. Knowing that most of our patients are elderly and of the questionable driver persuasion, I knew Dead Bambi had to be moved. . .and quickly.

The Boss Lady, who gets paid to deal with such nonsense, was at a meeting. Not knowing exactly who to call to come pick up Dead Bambi, I asked the new therapist (henceforth known as New Girl) to help me move Dead Bambi. We donned latex gloves and proceeded to the parking lot. Since I was pretty sure New Girl had not dealt with dragging dead deer thus far in her professional (or private) life, I wasn't sure how she'd handle it. I took the front legs, assuming it was the heaviest end, she took the back legs, and we heaved Dead Bambi into the ditch.

Later, I watched a 3 year-old scratch poop off his unwiped bottom and had another kiddo with a perpetual runny nose wipe said nose across my shirt from shoulder to shoulder. I figure those things are par for the course when you're a speech-language pathologist (or in any career dealing with healthcare and/or children, actually); however, no one ever told use we'd drag dead deer off the parking lot when I went to graduate school. . .As for New Girl, she handled Dead Bambi like she'd been dragging deer all her life. In fact, we're considering partnering for the annual Dead Deer Dragging Days held in Redneckville every deer season. . .We might even give up our amateur status to go pro. . .

he doesn't know me

2010-02-25T13:07:00.003-06:00

I hate to shop. OK, a random day at the Christian book store is fun, or maybe an occasional jaunt to Tar-jay. Generally speaking, I'd rather not spend my time shopping, especially if it involves driving large distances. Kev is working in Louisiana--Shreveport to be exact. He's about 8 hours away from us. We haven't seen him for several weeks. I will drive 8 hours to see him on Friday night and then return Sunday afternoon. (Kyler will go with me; Kady will stay with Nana.)

Yep, you read that right. I'm driving 16 hours to spend the weekend with my hubs. It gets better. He works all day Saturday, so that day is out. We'll get to see him Saturday night, but. . .Wait. It gets even better. . .They may work Sunday, too. He won't know until Saturday, and at that point, we'll already be there. . .Kev's response: "Well, come on down, and if I have to work, you can just spend the day shopping or something. . ."

Hello? Have we met? M E N ! ! !

Buttering Up

2010-02-19T15:29:00.000-06:00

Kady loves to help cook. Kyler, to this day, hates having to help in the kitchen. I feel the need to apologize to his future wife now. I tried, but he’s just not interested in anything to do with preparing food. Kady on the other hand, never misses an opportunity to help cook, including last night. I went to the kitchen to prepare supper, and Kady, knowing what I was doing, ran ahead of me. She opened the refrigerator and announced, “I’ll get the butter.” Never mind the fact that we were having frozen pizzas. Now, I’m wondering just how much butter we use. . .

A Public School Presidential Education

2010-02-17T15:29:00.000-06:00

There are many people who question our current educational system. Arkansas, in particular, has had many recent changes in hopes of improving our state’s ability to teach our children what they need to succeed. Being a graduate of this great state’s educational system myself, I never really doubted my son would receive an adequate education (with the possible exception of doing math in my head—I still can’t do that. . .). Recently, I’ve come to question what exactly he is learning. It seems Kyler has confused this man. . .

With this man. . .

That’s right. He thought Abraham Lincoln was Elvis. What ARE they teaching him?

This post is intended as a joke. It is in no way intended to be a reflection on Kyler's current or former teachers, who by and large, have been phenomenal!

Ordering the Truth Around. . .But Just a Little

2010-02-16T15:14:00.000-06:00

Kady tends to be a little. . .bossy. Bless her heart, if she had been born first, Kyler would have never made it. Despite the 6 years he has on her, she bosses him around constantly!! This weekend, she was ordering Kyler around once again.

Finally, I called her over and asked her, “Kady, who is the boss?”

Kady: Mommy and Daddy

Me: That’s right. Kady, are you the boss?

Kady: Weeeellll, I is a little boss.

And that pretty well sums up her viewpoint on why she’s here. How do you argue with that?

A Series of Unfortunate Events

2010-02-15T15:22:00.002-06:00

Alternately Titled: A Day from H*LL OR The Worst Day Ever

The day before Valentine’s Day is rough if you’re single or, in my case, just unable to be with your spouse. I knew it would be emotionally challenging, but I was doing my best to make it a good day for the kids. I had already given them the small gifts from Kev and me. After surviving theblizzards that wouldn’t end, Kady’s plague of pneumonia, and several days at my parents’ house, we arrived home to bare cupboards—eating stale popcorn and scraping the sides of the peanut butter jar type of bare cupboards.

We took off to the “big city” of Fayetteville to get our groceries. The Fayetteville Wal-Mart ended up being our destination, despite some objections on my part (it’s right beside the mall and most restaurants—almost insuring traffic issues on the Saturday night before Valentine’s Day).

Sure enough, it was BUSY. The check-out lines were 5 deep when we walked through the door, but have you ever tried to drag children out of a Wal-Mart before they’ve had a chance to look? I’m sure it’s DHS-call worthy, or at least the sounds they would make would appear that way. We stayed. I decided to suck it up and bite the bullet and just do it and all those other cliché things people say when the situation pretty well stinks, but you don’t have a choice. . .

Almost immediately, Kady began cheering. Loudly.

“GO RAZORBACKS! I LOVE TO CHEER—GO RAZORBACKS!”

It was cute for a second. I mean, at least she wasn’t cheering “Roll Tide” or something truly embarrassing. However, I reminded her that she was inside, and she must use her inside voice. . .To which she replied. . .

“I IS A CHEERLEADER AND THIS IS HOW CHEERLEADERS TALK—GO RAZORBACKS!”

It’s amazing how quickly you can grocery shop that way.

As we were leaving, Kady apparently thought she saw her daddy, despite the fact that he’s 8 hours away. She was loudly yelling, “DADDY, DADDY WAIT! WAIT, DADDY!!!” I was never quite sure which one she thought looked like Kev, but I can say there were a few men I’d never seen before making a speedy get away. . .

After slowly (due to VDay traffic/auto accidents) making our way in the general direction of home, I called a single with no-children, teacher friend of mine, who is often intrigued/appalled at the misadventures my hooligans get me into. As I was talking to her, chaos suddenly ensued, and I found myself saying something I never dreamed I would say. . .

“I’M GOING TO HAVE TO CALL YOU BACK. I JUST GOT HIT BY A SWEET AND SOUR SOAKED CHICKEN NUGGET.”

My daughter had attempted to throw a chicken nugget at her brother and missed. The sticky, poultry ball had ricocheted off my jacket, rolled down the arm, and bounced in my lap.

I can assure you that we are not in the regular habit of throwing food. My theory? Apparently, when one recovers from pneumonia, one finds themselves with an overabundance of energy and the need to throw food towards one’s sibling. . .What can I say, it’s the best answer I’ve come up with.

Anyway, as you can imagine, we immediately began discussing disciplinary actions that would occur as soon as we were home. Kady began crying. She announced that if I tried to discipline her, she would throw me in with the frogs. Yep. I checked it twice, because I thought I might not have understood. If I tried to discipline her, SHE WOULD THROW ME IN WITH THE FROGS. . .I managed not to laugh, but it was one of those parenting moments when you can’t decide whether to laugh, cry, yell, or just give up and completely LOSE IT. . .

And, just when you thought I survived (without getting thrown to the frogs), I arrived home to find that I had washed a pull-up in the washing machine. . .So, how was your Valentine’s Day?

we're friends, right?

2010-02-12T16:39:00.006-06:00

You might remember that I both complain and rejoice at the fact that we don't watch much tv. After all, it's hard to watch much tv when you only get two channels. . .We do however, watch a lot of movies, but there's only so many times you can watch Hope Floats. . .Enter Christmas.

This year, I bought myself a REALLY, really nice present.

I "invested" in the complete season of Friends on DVD. I used to LOVE to watch Friends, and there's something so fun about sitting down to watch a couple of good episodes of tv (minus commercials!) with a load of laundry to fold. . .OK, scrap the laundry. . .except that it's still there. It never goes away. . .but I digress.

Anyway, I think we might be overdoing the Friends-watching. The other morning, Kady walked into my bedroom and asked Maddie, "How you doin'?"

Oops.

Bonus points for anyone who can name the body part Phoebe found in a can. Or anyone that can name the person Chandler got stuck in the bank with. Or the type of pet Rachel got. . .and got rid of. Or. . .name your own trivia question. . .Come on Fans of Friends, challenge me. : )

Kady's finally getting better, after having a rough go-round with pneumonia. I'm trying to avoid getting caught up on housework--in case you couldn't tell.

it's possible we're not in (ar)kansas anymore: when winter hits arkansas

2010-02-01T11:15:00.004-06:00

Arkansas averages one good snowfall a year. To us, that means we get 1 or 2 inches of snow that the kids make (muddy, rocky) snowmen out of. This year, we've already had two good snowfalls, including last week's 7 (!) inches. A 7-inch snowfall all but REQUIRES everyone not using a walker to get out and play in it. Out came the boots, the snow suits, the gloves, the. . .WHERE ARE THE HATS? WHO HAS A HAT? WHERE DID YOUR HAT GO?!

My question to the more northern readers: How do y'all do this ALL winter long? Is it possible to surgically attach gloves or hats to children?

Kev drove more than 8 hours in ice and snow to see us. That's love. I'm not sure if it's love for me and the kids, his dog, or playing in the snow, but I'll take what I can get.

Sunday (since it was the blizzard of the year and church was cancelled--seriously.), Kev took the kids to his brother's house to sled. Sledding around here involves a 4wheeler, a rope, and something else. Sleds are SO optional. The guys sledded until they removed all snow AND grass from the ground. Not everyone can come home from sledding muddy. . .

My niece (possibly the smartest of the bunch) decided to build a snowman instead of being on the redneck-ride-of-death-and-dismemberment. Kady found the buttons she had "forgotten" on the snowman and returned them. Oops. I guess we need more practice at the snowman bit.

they are not most children

2010-01-20T11:25:00.004-06:00

Most children have an imaginary friend. My daughter has an entire imaginary school, including 3 rotating teachers. Her teachers' names are Anna (pronounced "awna"), Anka, and Ona. Anna must be the lead teacher, because she frequently issues commands. Within the last week, Anna has issued two very important commands that Kady has relayed to us. The first was a directive for "PINK (Mommy, they MUST be pink!) ice-skates from Wal-Mart." We live in Arkansas. There are no ice skates within 100 miles. . .

The second directive came after Kyler announced that he MUST read the Star Wars book he checked out from the library. This book would give him all the points he needs to meet his reading goal, so he NEEDS to stay up until 9 or 10 EVERY night to read. . .

Without missing a beat, Kady said,

"My teacher, Ms. Anna, said I have to read the new Elmo book, so I have to stay up and read too!"

How long before they can totally and completely manipulate me? It's obviously VERY close. . .

*****************************

On a very different note, please continue to pray for those affected by the Haiti tragedy. If Only I had Super Powers directed me to a very touching blog written by a worker at an orphanage in Haiti that was killed during the earthquake last week. You can read about her work and experiences HERE.

because I thought it was funny. . .

2010-01-13T11:12:00.003-06:00

My mom just sent me this email that I hadn't read before (which is amazing in and of itself because I've now received every other possible forward at least 9 times. How many times can I possibly die from not sending a forward on in 9 minutes?). I thought it was funny, so you better too. : ) (Sorry if you have read it.)

Random Thoughts of the Day:

1) Nothing sucks more than that moment during an argument when you realize you're wrong.

2) I totally take back all those times I didn't want to nap when I was younger.

3) There is a great need for sarcasm font.

4) How the hell are you supposed to fold a fitted sheet?

5) I would rather try to carry 10 plastic grocery bags in each hand than take 2 trips to bring my groceries in.

6) MapQuest really needs to start their directions on #5. Pretty sure I know how to get out of my neighborhood.

7) Obituaries would be a lot more interesting if they told you how the person died.

8) I can't remember the last time I wasn't at least kind of tired.

9) Bad decisions make good stories

10) You never know when it will strike, but there comes a moment at work when you've made up your mind that you just aren't doing anything productive for the rest of the day.

11) I'm always slightly terrified when I exit out of Word and it asks me if I want to save any changes to my ten page research paper that I swear I did not make any changes to.

12) I hate when I just miss a call by the last ring (Hello? Hello? Damnit!), but when I immediately call back, it rings nine times and goes to voicemail. What'd you do after I didn't answer? Drop the phone and run away?

13) I hate leaving my house confident and looking good and then not seeing anyone of importance the entire day. What a waste.

14) As a driver I hate pedestrians, and as a pedestrian I hate drivers, but no matter what the mode of transportation, I always hate cyclists.

15) I keep some people's phone numbers in my phone just so I know not to answer when they call.

16) I disagree with Kay Jewelers. I would bet on any given Friday or Saturday night more kisses begin with Miller Lites than Kay.

Bonus Funnies:
I was so depressed last night thinking about the economy, government, health care, real estate prices, the stock market, the federal deficit, Iraq, Afghanistan, global warming, my savings, Social Security, credit card debt........I called the Suicide Hot line. ... I got a call center in Pakistan .....told them I was suicidal.. They got all excited and asked if I could drive a truck.

socially inappropriate behavior by the parents

2010-01-11T13:08:00.002-06:00

Kyler is my ear child. He would be a perfectly healthy child except for those darn ears of his. The child has had multiple sets of PE tubes, a tonsillectomy, an adenoidectomy, and even a frenectomy (He was tongue-tied.). We spent New Year's Eve getting another set of tubes placed. If you'll recall, I'm a speech-language pathologist, so I was familiar with this physician outside of being my son's doctor. Kevin and I both went.

OK. Now that I've set the stage. . .

The doctor comes in and introduces himself to Kev (who had never met him). The doctor then procedes to tell us what they (himself adn his wife) will be doing to ring in the new year. The doctor, whom we saw at his main office also has an office/home in Paradise, which he made reference to. In response, I announced, "I WONDERED what you were doing."

I really hadn't. . .

But at that point, it was more uncomforable to correct myself.

The doctor once again mentioned Paradise, stating that he would be driving there when he finished up with Kyler. Kevin, being the completely-friendly-but-total-smart-aleck that he is, said, "You could just ride with us," which was never intended as an actual solicitation. . .I mean, we were in the "big city," with specific shopping needs ahead of us. We were not missing this opportunity.

The doctor was very quiet for a L O N G moment before replying, "Um, thanks, but I'll just drive myself."

As the awkwardness died away (i.e., The doctor left the room.), Kev and I had one thought: Our first restraining order was approaching.

Parents. . .you just can't take them out in public.

don't judge

2010-01-05T10:40:00.005-06:00

The Scene: After a long day of playing in the snow, it has just been discovered that Kyler is the second victim of the chicken pox invasion. He has spots covering his whole body and is running a low-grade fever. Mom and Dad are also fatigued to the point of exhaustion.

Me: Almost time for bed!

Kyler: Mo-o-om, I don't have school tomorrow. . .Please let me stay up late!

Me: OK, you can stay up until 9:00, but it's already 8:30.

Kyler: YES!! [fist pumping]

The actual time:

Don't judge us.

when you know you should get out more

2009-12-30T11:36:00.002-06:00

My guys spent the Saturday after Christmas hunting. . .because apparently there's a prize given for the hunter who spends the most time in the woods. That's the only reason I can figure my guys would go without sleep, warmth, and my pleasant company for so many days this past year. . .Kady and I decided to brave the insane crowds and do a little sale shopping. We went to the mall and a few surrounding stores and managed to score shoes, shoes, shoes, purse, and shoes. Obviously, it was a pleasant day.

We started off our shopping by having an early lunch at chik-fil-a, which Kady LOVED. Then, we found a parking space at JC Penney's and dug the stroller and assorted toddler paraphernalia out. Finally, we fought the insane crowds and started shopping. We navigated out of Penney's and through the mall, with Kady pointing out her to-do list as we went along.

"Mommy, I want to play there."

"Mama, I want to ride that."

"MOM! Let's go there!"

Somewhere through this magical journey that is the mall, Kady turned around in her stroller, looked up at me, and said, "Mom, this is the best store in the whole wide world. I love it!"

That's when it hit me.

Other than the disastrous trip to see Santa, Kady had never set foot in the mall. Oops. Definitely a parenting fail. . .

walking a tightrope with the big guy

2009-12-22T14:54:00.003-06:00

Dear Santa,

Merry Christmas! I hope this letter find you well and well prepared for your upcoming journey. I hope you do not take offense to this letter, but I feel I must make my complaint known. Please do not hold it against my children. They have been (mostly) good this year.

Santa, Santa, Santa. Last Sunday, we drove one hour to see you. Yes, proper preparation would have resulted in a much earlier date, but my husband, the KING of Spontaneity, decided last Sunday was THE day. We drove. We ate. (I'm not sure who had the bright idea to eat spaghetti, but. . .) We washed my daughter's clothes off in the bathroom to the best of our abilities. . .We arrived at the mall to find a long, but tolerable line to see you. Kady stood quite patiently for about 45 minutes while we waited for all the other good boys and girls to meet you. We obliged the "no cameras on set" rule that was posted, and quietly chose our over-priced picture package. All was OK.

Then, Trey and the-elf-that-I-forgot-his-name (henceforth referred to as the other elf) announced that the cameras had crashed. An elf frenzy commenced during which all elves were on the phone to corporate to remedy the situation. Trey and the other elf opened up a "special" line, in which you could see Santa but not have your child's picture taken by the elves.

Several people jumped at this opportunity, but still desiring a picture of my (almost) clean daughter with you, I resisted for a few minutes. Finally, I gave in and joined the group taking their own pictures. When we were two people away from you, your elves announced that CORPORATE had made the decision that no one would be allowed to take pictures with Santa. (Santa, who is this corporate that makes such poor decisions for you? When did they take over your life?)

Now, Santa, here's where I try to avoid a lifetime of coal, switches, and reindeer poop in my stocking. . .Santa, if you couldn't provide the services I was requesting--the services that you were advertising-- then WHY CAN'T I TAKE MY OWN PICTURE?! Seriously, you turned a very important moment in my daughter's Christmas memories into a complete letdown and disappointment for me. We will NOT be back to your "house," as Kady called it. I may have to pay the fat man down the road to dress up, but I WILL NOT make the journey to the dictatorial corporate mall. You, Fat Man, have let me down. You have commercialized just one too many things in my Christmas. Then, you have sucked every bit of joy out of that commercialized morsel that you tempted me with. You can take your over-priced pictures, your tacky "no cameras" sign, your corporate-grunt elves, and you can go back to the North Pole. As for me, I chose not to call the 800 number the other elf offered and am instead using the "great equalizer"--the internet, to share our little "incident." Merry Christmas.

Sincerely,

Rachel in Paradise (Lost)

PS Please tell Mrs. Clause hello.

a stolen Christmas meme

2009-12-17T14:43:00.003-06:00

What's a person to do when she's out of time to get everything done but really, really wanting to update the blog? Steal a meme, of course. This one's from the Happy Geek, which I found by way of Tonggu Mama's website (so you know it's good!). : )

Eggnog or Hot Chocolate? Any question that asks you to choose between chocolate and something is NOT a real question. Moving on.

Does Santa wrap the presents or leave them open under the tree? Santa does not wrap gifts. All wrapped gifts are from your parents, and don't forget it! As for our wrapping technique, anything that effectively hides the identity of the gifts counts, so pretty is not a words that describes our gifts.

Coloured Lights on a tree or white? Last year, I finally bought a new tree. When my procrastinating husband finally gave me the green light, the store only had colored lights. [sigh] Thus, we have colored lights, with a preference for white lights. . .

Do you hang Mistletoe? Usually, although this year, only the tree is up so far. . .Guess what I'm doing this weekend?

When do you put your decorations up? Usually, our motto is they turkey is done, so where are the lights. . .This year, well, see above.

What is your favorite Holiday Dish? Anything that involves food. If you ask for a more specific answer, I would have to go with ham. . .or chicken-broccoli casserole. . .or the rolls. . .or brown sugar green beans. . .well, you get the idea.

Favorite Holiday Memory as a Child? the year we opened presents at my grandparents' house was special. I'll never forget the Christmas I got a Barbie house. Kev engaged in much more felonious actions as a child than I did, so he has some funny stories that I could share. However, we're hoping our children never hear of those. . .

Do you open a gift on Christmas Eve? Usually, all gifts are opened on Christmas; however, this year, Kyler's pajamas are in such sad shape that they each have new pajamas to open Christmas Eve. Contain your excitement--I know they will.

How do you decorate your Christmas tree? Oh, if only I could tell you about my pre-kids tree. . .It was sparkly and perfectly proportioned and each ornament had a special place.

Snow. Love it or Hate it? I live in Arkansas. We don't get much of it, so it's always special. So special that we shut down for a week when the white stuff appears.

Can you ice skate? Did I mention where I live?

What is your favorite Holiday Dessert? cheesecake. or anything chocolate. Enough said.

What is your favorite holiday tradition? I enjoy the weekend where Kev & I get away, do all the Christmas shopping, and wrap all the presents.

Candy Canes. Yum or Yuck? Tradition, but I can take it or leave it.

Favorite Christmas Show? White Christmas or the Nativity Story.

Have a merry Christmas!!!

the hair cut lady

2009-12-16T13:41:00.001-06:00

Kady went for her first ever haircut last Friday. Now, we have to play "hair cut lady" every night. You are not allowed to change her title. She "is a hair cut lady like that one, you know, that cuts my hair." Luckily, we've thus far been satisfied with play scissors. . .Now, you may ooh and ahh over my baby girl's cute haircut. Go. : )

the whole wide world

2009-12-15T11:41:00.003-06:00

This morning we drove the same route we've driven for all of Kady's 3 years. Today, as we topped a hill, she announced,**

"Mama, I can see the whole world!"

**not our actual view. It might have been the quickest one I "borrowed" from flickr. . .

rambling notes from my christmas card list

2009-12-09T15:06:00.003-06:00

Hello, all. Welcome back. Where ya' been? Me? Well, I was on the brink of death from some no-name, pathetic little virus. Did I get sick with the "real" flu bug going around. Nope. I managed to get really, really sick from your everyday virus. I'm an over-achiever that way.

Moving on.

It's time to send out my Christmas cards! I always moan and groan about doing this. I complain about having to pick out a card, and gripe about the trouble of rounding up all the addresses. (I always need an address. My address book consists of a bundle of envelopes scavenged from last year's cards and tucked in my never-opened scrap booking tote. . .)

The truth is that I actually LIKE getting Christmas cards. It's fun to open the mailbox and see a note handwritten by someone you know (and usually like!). Unfortunately, I discovered last year that my mailman IS authorized to deliver something besides bills and junk mail. Heretofore, I had simply blamed him for my lack of written Yuletide Sentiments. . .After stumbling upon my mother's stash of cards, I learned the truth: my family and friends do know how to send cards and are sending cards. . .just not to me. (Hey, S, Mom got your card! It was SO cute. I wish I had gotten one after sending you one for ELEVEN years straight. . .)

Anyway, this year, my new motto is "you gotta send one to get one." I'll keep you updated as to the progress. However, if you've been here long, you know I like to break rules, so I've already added a few new people to the list. Utilizing the old and new list, here are a few observations thus far. . .

I am an eternal optimist. After years of knowing better, I will try for the "perfect" photo card EACH and EVERY year.
We can't take a decent family picture.
If you manage to get both kids looking at the camera, cover the bare feet, and hide (most of) the clutter, your camera will be out of focus.
In. Every. Photo. completely out of focus. . .
I know two people who live on Nottinghill. . .in different states.
I know one person on Bearberry, which is just downright fun to say.
My mailing region is rather small, even with the addition of 3 new states.
The coldest place my card will be travelling: Minnesota.
The warmest place: Texas or Alabama.
Of course, the idea of a Hog fan's Christmas card travelling to Crimson Tide country could cause catastrophic weather conditions. . .

Do you want to join in on the Christmas card fun? Just drop me an email (rlkendr at yahoo dot com) with your address. Now, I want to know your Christmas card traditions. . .

what I didn't know

2009-12-03T16:54:00.003-06:00

In case you've been keeping up with my captivating tweets regarding my illness, I'm still sick. I can't seem to shake this horrible, awful respiratory thing I've got going on. The doctor's take is it's a "virus thing" and I'm just going to have to get over it. . .Anyway, I have managed to squander most of my paid time off this week by staying home and watching crappy tv instead of going on a long-awaited cruise. . .not that I'm bitter or anything. Just to show how much I've been missing out by going to work each and every day and not staying home glued to my tv, I wanted to let you in on an upcoming show Tyra's doing. Seriously.

If you or someone you know attempted YOUR own plastic surgery but botched it, PLEASE call the Tyra show.

I spent the first delusional day of my illness convinced I had missed something, but it came on again the next day. They are seriously looking for people who tried to perform plastic surgery on themselves. Obviously, I've been living under a rock, because I had no idea this was a serious problem. Ssssoooo, share. What types of surgery are you considering attempting?

Nana, the secret running back

2009-11-16T15:11:00.004-06:00

My son is a little obsessed with football this fall, after just completed his first season of REAL football. (It was awesome.) He plays football. He watches football. He shops for football stuff. He talks football. The kid likes football. Therefore, the following conversation should not have caught me as off-guard as it did.

Kyler: Mom, did Nana every play football?

Me: Nana? Play football? No, I don't think so.

Kyler: Yeah, did she play football?

Me: No, girls don't play football. [Forgive me. My brain was travelling in many directions trying to figure out where this was going.]

Kyler: No, Mom, like H. Did Nana play football?

Me: No, son, she did not.

Kyler: Are you sure? Because she had 2 of those mouth guards at her house. I asked her, and she said they were not Papa's. SHE SAID they were hers. Are you sure she didn't play football?

The mouth guards in question? They belong with this. . .

Question: What position do you think my mom secretly played before she was my mom?

nothin' much. and you?

2009-11-13T15:46:00.004-06:00

Life is busy, and these are my random updates.

I am still trying to get down to my cruise weight. I'm pleased to announce, 10 more pounds, and I am CRUISE bound!! I tried a new workout last night. It's called Zumba. (Search it on youtube, if you're unfamiliar. Be assured that I looked nothing like that.) It's great if you have rhythm or coordination or hips that move. Unfortunately, I don't. I spent one hour and ten minutes attempting to not knock anyone down. I succeeded but just barely.

I will be attending a conference next week. I will be spending Wednesday through Sunday in New Orleans! This will only be my second flight (seriously), so pray that I arrive safely, please. Also, pray that Kyler and Kady behave, stay safe, and stay healthy while I am gone. There's nothing so nerve-wracking as being a mother and being away from your babies.

My long-awaited niece arrived last Wednesday. Miss M is here, and I still haven't managed to see her! I am certainly going to try to see that girl this weekend. In fact, other than cleaning house and packing for my trip, that's all that's on my to-do list. How about yours? Oh, and you can bet I'll be at least listening to the Razorbacks.

Go, Hogs, go!! Beat Troy!

favorite kyler quote of the month (so far)

2009-11-09T11:28:00.002-06:00

"Well, whoever finds my underwear can just have it!"

This was said after my 9 year-old son attended a birthday party at an indoor pool. Apparently, his underwear miraculously wandered out of his locker and off to play basketball. . .or something. Yes, he is definitely my son.

just doing my part

2009-11-05T08:55:00.003-06:00

It's now official. Arkansas is sin-filled. I am now living in a gambling state. . .and loving it. Really, I'm just doing my part. I'm stimulating the economy, while providing scholarships for the students of my state. I like to think of it as investing in my children's college education. And so far, I'm investing a lot of money. If our so-called "educational crisis"can be solved by throwing money at our educational system, I'm pretty sure we've solved it in about 30 days. And the new vocabulary. . .double down. Quick pick. One pick. Power play. Addiction. Fascinating stuff, I'm telling you. If you'll forgive me, I have to get my scratching quarter ready. . .I've got a winning ticket headed my way. Ooh, and now there's Powerball. . .

it's a bad sign when. . .

2009-10-28T16:18:00.000-05:00

you're hoping to keep everyone well enough to get their flu shots on Friday. . .especially, if the odds are looking slim.

Stay healthy and pray with me that my little asthmatic will get her dose of the H1N1 flu vaccine (or Hiney flu--get it H1N1--Hiney?, as one of our hospital volunteers called it). . .or better yet, that she will not get sick this winter. Period.

not one of our better parenting moments*

2009-10-27T16:03:00.005-05:00

***Warning: This post is the least family-friendly post I've ever posted. You might NOT want to let your kiddos read this. You know, do as I say and not as I do. . .***

I let Kyler listen to a song that was questionable in nature. OK, not so questionable. It was inappropriate. I let him listen to the song by the Zac Brown band titled "Toes in the Sand." The song begins "I've got my toes in the water, *ss in the sand. . ."

(In my defense, I'm in desperate need of a vacation, and the song makes me feel like I'm on a beach somewhere. . .)

I know. Who knew he was actually listening to this stuff. . .

Anyway, after explaining that he could listen to it but he had to sing it the edited-for-radio version (toes in the water, toes in the sand. . .), I stupidly thought all was well.

Until we got to the phrase about rolling a big fat one.

Yup. You read that right.

Of course, he wanted to know what that meant. I used the age old response of all parents who are chicken: "Ask your dad!"

I then mentioned to Kev that this was coming.

Kev & Kyler had some daddy-son time this weekend, whereupon they discussed rolling a big fat one. Yes, we are JUST LIKE the Cosby family. . .

Apparently, it means you roll a big fat girl across the sand at the beach.

I'm not sure what's worse: the answer Kev gave, the fact that that answer was way better than what I would have said, or the fact that I let him listen to such an inappropriate song in the first place. . .

So, if you can, please resist calling DHS long enough to tell me about your uh-oh parenting moment. Please? And I'm totally available to babysit anytime. . .

weight loss fail

2009-10-26T06:12:00.000-05:00

So, these days I'm a long ways from skinny, but I have managed to get in better shape, build some muscle, and lose some weight (18 pounds and quite a few inches...) by working out and going to a trainer. As I'm working out on Friday, a co-worker comes walking through the area. . .

She: Oh, you're still working out?
Me: Yeah. [sweating and lunging and talking simultaneously]
She: Huh. So, you must think it's working, huh?
Me: Yeah, I guess so. [laughing]

just another day in our crazy lives

2009-10-23T09:37:00.003-05:00

Kyler had his last football practice of the year last night. Then, we managed to eat (LOTS) at the local Mexican food establishment. As we left, I thought out loud about having forgotten to go to the bathroom. I was laughing as I said, "How can someone FORGET to go to the bathroom?" Kyler replied, "It's easy. I do it all the time!" And he does.

Kady's at her grandma's, eating Popsicles for breakfast on this chilly morning. She was adamant that she ALWAYS has Popsicles for breakfast. She doesn't. I promise.

I'm off to another busy day at work, and one more weekend of working. . .(3rd in a row) Have a great weekend!! Go Hogs go!!

question of the day

2009-10-22T15:34:00.003-05:00

Creepy or friendly: "friending" your son's teacher on Facebook?

Just wonderin'. : )

just my luck. . .

2009-10-21T14:34:00.002-05:00

Kyler played peewee football this season for the first time. It has been a real learning experience for his whole team. They've went from knowing nothing about football to playing some really good ball. I have thoroughly enjoyed watching him play.

However.

(This is the part he'll kill me for later.)

Winning has been one of the lesser skills we've learned. We've learned how to lose gracefully and not so gracefully. We've learned how to lose close games and "wow-is-that-the-score-and-how-did-they-get-that-many-points?" games. Actually, we only won one game.

Until last night.

Something clicked. I don't know what. I don't know what was different. . .(except my son carried the ball three times for three first-downs, thank-you-very-much! Not that that was the only difference, but. . .) Those boys just played awesome.

Now, you might remember that I'm a huge Razorback fan. [screaming "woo pig sooie" in background] We only get two tv channels, so I've had to make do with listening to football games on the radio. I've listened to almost every game, and I did spend last weekend glued to the tv as we ALMOST beat Florida. (I know "almost" doesn't count, but DUDE, it was this close!!!)

I was SO excited to spend this weekend at my own house watching the Hogs demolish Mr. [mutters under breath] Nutt. (Mr. Nutt used to be our head coach, but then he became a traitor and Petrino became our SUPERMAN coach. Caught up yet?) This is a HUGE game. SO excited. . .

Kyler's football team now plays at the same time as the Hogs. [sigh] You know I'll be watching my boy, but. . .GO HOGS!!!

Lesson learned: Never say your plans out loud. The universe has a way of demolishing your plans. . .

the other woman in my husband's life

2009-10-16T16:26:00.002-05:00

I realized today that my bloggy friends haven't met my husband's other love. This is his dog, Maddie. Maddie is an English Springer Spaniel and still a puppy. She lives with my hubs during the week and with all of us on the weekends. She is spoiled rotten and sometimes a pain in the neck, but she's really good for Kev. She gives my hubs somebody to come home to, somebody to play with, and most importantly sometimes, a way to distract him from what he's missing at home. I am sometimes jealous of my husband's four-legged gal (never thought I'd say that!), but I'm also really glad she's there for him. Please say hello to Maddie.

simplifying my life

2009-10-15T09:06:00.001-05:00

Life's kicking my rear these days. In an attempt to regain some control, I've decided to simplify my life. After much thought, these are the things bringing me stress, so I've decided to get rid of a few of them in order to live a stress-free life.

Classified Ad #1:

2 kids. slightly used. apparently disciplined little. no tricks, mostly housebroken, and great company--never a dull minute. great deal. owner financing possible. no trades considered. interested? call me.

Ad #2

Antique, classic matched set of parents. Very independent and head-strong. Not for beginners. Requires attention. Comes with great insurance. Matched set of in-laws also available--call for details.

Ad #3

Cozy home available. Decorated in comfortable, lived-in, tornado-blew-through style. Comes with own set of dirty dishes and dirty laundry. will consider all trades that come with hired help (maid/gardener, etc.). Great possibilities for ad #1.

Ad #4

2006 SUV available. umpteen million miles. no major outside damage (thanks to the thousands spent at the body shop after that darn deer ran in front of me. . .). inside decorated in we-live-in-it style (no extra cost!!). Outside currently decorated with 3 inches of dirt/mud. will consider clean up for right price. CALL TODAY!!!

That's it. That's all I can find to rid myself of stress, so until someone calls/contacts me about above, it looks like I'll continue to be one step away from checking myself into a place with padded walls. . .And this post is totally intended as a joke. I would never consider trading my kids or my parents. After all, have you seen some of the other options out there?!

on my soapbox again

2009-10-07T10:22:00.000-05:00

Apparently, David Letterman engaged in some inappropriate behavior with female coworkers. Now, he's apologized. Millions tuned in to hear his apology. Basically, he had the best ratings CBS has turned in for awhile. At what point do we stop rewarding bad boys for behaving like bad boys? At what point do men behaving badly face repercussions for their actions? Yes, he made a mistake, and we're all going to make mistakes. However, there just seems to be an air of laissez faire permeating our society these days. Of course, I suppose many generations could say this (the ages of speak easies and Woodstock come to mind).

Maybe I'm just a little introspective over the idea of turning the big. . .oh, never mind. My question to those of you around my age (child bearing/rearing age): Are we making a difference in the world? I'm an idealist who likes to "fix" everything. Things I should leave to God are things I end up trying to fix. We all know how that turns out. . .However, I think every generation tries to make the world a better place for their offspring. Are we doing that? Are we truly making a difference in the world around us? Two (go HERE and HERE for more info) of my favorite bloggers recently blogged about fairly small steps they've taken with their families to impact our world. What are you doing? Do you think we can ever "fix" the world? What are you teaching your children to care passionately about? Discuss amongst yourselves now. Go.

like mother like son

2009-10-05T15:00:00.001-05:00

My son can be a little blonde. I have no idea where he gets it. Then again, I once walked into a glass door, leaving lipstick prints on it. The glass door was in my small hometown at my mother's place of employment. Can we all say, "SMOOTH?!" I guess he comes by it naturally.

This weekend, we were attempting to turn into a bank parking lot. It was impossible. Apparently, you can't turn in if you're travelling west, but if you go up one block, double back, and travel to the east end of the parking lot, you can get there. Got that?

After finally pulling up to the ATM, I said, "I've never been so confused in my life."

To which my son replied, "Boy, I have."

pleading the fifth

2009-10-01T16:03:00.000-05:00

My mother-in-law has a job that sometimes entails putting ads in newspapers. (Not THOSE kind of ads!) Anyway, she recently put an ad in a non-English newspaper, and this is the email she received.

Um, no comment.

If you're having trouble reading the email (sorry--I just can't get it big enough without distorting it!), the body says

Good afternoon Donna, this is the ad that we will run this Thursday, October 1, please let me know if everything is ok.

Thank you for your bossiness and having a wonderful afternoon.

because nana said so

2009-09-24T11:48:00.000-05:00

This week is the book fair at school. Kyler was very excited to take his money and pick out a few books.

Kyler: I had to ask that lady in the book fair how much my book was. She said it was $7.00, but you know what?

Me: What?

Kyler: That was the price in CANADA! It was only $5.00 here. I still had money left over!

Me (because I love to hear how his mind works. . .): Why do you think things cost more in Canada?

Kyler: Because they have more money there.

Me: Oh, really?

Kyler: What? That's what Nana said.

And we all know Nana is always right. . .even when she doesn't remember actually saying that. . .

and that's the only difference?

2009-09-18T10:45:00.000-05:00

Kady has officially hit the traumatic three's. One minute she's hyper, and the next, she's showing a lot of maturity. One minute she's inconsolable, and the next, she's reasoning very well for a toddler. Last night, she raced circles through the house. I caught her and accused her of being a monkey. She denied this, saying, "Mama, I don't have a tail!" I'm pretty sure that could be the only difference at this point. . .oh, except for that whole flinging poo thing. She hasn't done that. . .yet. Although, now that I think about it, she did fling the remote control last night. . .

and nana gets in on the action. . .

2009-09-16T10:33:00.000-05:00

This is my mom's first blog post. She actually sent this out as an email. And, no, I don't think it's weird to feed saltines to horses. I once had a horse that loved cheeseburgers. Now, THAT was weird!

Just wanted to share a funny from Kady. She was at the house with me the other day and she wanted something to snack on. She was trying to stay awake and she has a really pitiful way of saying, "Nana, I'm still hungee" I was showing her what we had to eat and I asked if she wanted some peanut butter and crackers Papa keeps to snack on. She didn't want that, so I showed her saltine crackers....She said, "No, Nana, that's horse crackers!" Rachel likes to feed the horse crackers and Kady thought those were horse feed!

we survived. . .and have the scars to prove it

2009-09-15T11:37:00.000-05:00

I hate children's birthday parties. I love children. I love my children, and I would do anything to make them happy--most of the time. Therefore, last Sunday, we subjected ourselves to 2 birthdays celebrating 3 children turning one year older. The kids had a blast, and truthfully, I suppose you can't complain about another excuse to eat birthday cake! However, awkward conversation with distant family members, one too many sugar highs, and a run-ragged Sunday make me wish we were through with birthdays for awhile. (We're not. We still have three this month. . .I guess you know what people here do in January. . .) As we left the last party on Sunday, Kady was heard screaming, "I no wanna go home. I wanna stay with Sissy! She's my best friend!" I'm pretty sure they're birthday'ed out as well--whether they know it or not. How about you? Do you live for children's parties or are you the official wall flower, like moi?

Need I remind you that the Hogs are still undefeated?! It doesn't matter that they had a week off. It's the record that counts! : )

can you hear me now?

2009-09-14T16:41:00.000-05:00

My dad is not a fan of technology. He still has no idea how to work his VCR. Yes, that's VCR--you can forget about the DVD player! He recently got a cell phone. Now, when he's out and about, we're all subjected to random "Can you hear me now?" phone calls. Then, when he gets home, he calls from his home phone to make sure you really could hear him. . .I suppose that voice he hears on the other end could be someone from the cell phone company or government convincing you that cell phones really work. . .[sigh] Parents. 'nuff said.

It's probably not a good sign when. . .

2009-09-10T09:31:00.001-05:00

you find chocolate on your bra and you're supposed to be on a diet. . .

you drop your child off late for the third day in a row. . .

you write a political blog post and nobody comments. . .

R-E-S-P-E-C-T

2009-09-09T13:32:00.000-05:00

Politically speaking, I am somewhere left of of many of you, and somewhere to the right of the rest of you. Now that that is clear as mud, I'm going to enter the dangerous politically-charged, on-my-soapbox arena. I watched with fascination as the warnings began posting on facebook: Obama to implement Hitler-esque youth brigade, etc. I clicked on links that took me to conservative website after conservative website searching for exactly what my son might be exposed to. Yet, I found no evidence that Obama was beginning to grow a funny mustache OR indoctrinate my son, although I was curious as to what exactly the text of the speech might be. I watched and read the speech yesterday, and I found nothing objectionable to me.

I do respect every parent's right to limit what his or her child is exposed to. There is much in this worldly world that I do NOT want my babies exposed to/influenced by, and I respect that each parent has his or her own belief systems. (For example, we do not read/watch the Twilight series. We stress creationism, despite the fact that evolution is taught exclusively in our school system.)

I find it odd that my son's school made the choice to not show the speech at all. We were not given an opt in choice. The speech was simply not shown. It seems that some parents threatened to keep their children home from school if the school showed the speech at all.

I do not always agree with the president. I didn't always agree with the last president, and I think it's safe to say that I will never agree wholeheartedly with any president 100% of the time. Growing up, I remember my parents voicing their disagreement with the president, but it was always done with a note of civility towards the rabbit ears on the tv. I remember a respect for the job that appears absent today.

What (apparently) started as a way for the highest elected official in our country to encourage our youth somehow morphed into an agenda to further criticize one point of view over another, to further split party lines, to disrespect the office of the president. As for me and my house, we WILL serve the LORD. We will also show respect to all people, regardless of their political, religious, cultural, or educational beliefs, including the man elected to lead our country.

That is all. Please feel free to comment. How did your school handle this subject?

scary times

2009-09-03T10:57:00.000-05:00

I've been a little absent from this blog for awhile now. It's not intentional. I've said before that this is my therapy. This is my place to unwind, decompress, let it all out. Unfortunately, life is crazier than it has ever been. My office now has 4 people doing more work than when we were 9 people. Hmm, and they say productivity has improved in these tough economic times. How brilliant they are!

Anyway, I dreamed last night that I was laid off. I walked in one day and they were telling us to go home. The scary part is it happened to others this week. Thus, I think I should concentrate on work 24/7 just to be on the safe side (and don't even think about taking a look into my house right now!!).

My point: Thank you, thank you, thank you to anyone sticking around to read my sporadic posts that have become increasingly disjointed and odd. I shall post whenever possible, but I understand if you decide to stop following/reading.

weight loss update

2009-09-02T16:01:00.000-05:00

12 pounds. I need to lose 12 pounds, so I can go on the cruise I promised myself. Other than cutting off a limb, does anyone have any other weight loss ideas?

AND THE WINNER IS. . .

2009-08-31T16:15:00.000-05:00

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

2009-08-28T08:03:00.000-05:00

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

2009-08-27T10:10:00.000-05:00

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

2009-08-25T16:46:00.000-05:00

How can my brother and I be so different?
Where did my summer go and why is work so busy? (A twofer)
Will the Hogs have a winning year?
Will Kyler have a good year of school?
When will I win the lottery?
Will I hit my goal weight?
When will life slow down?
How does one handle family strife in a "normal" family?
How will I cope with the month of September with all the birthdays, etc., it brings? (Funny note: accidentally typed Septembeer--Freudian slip?)
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'

2009-08-21T11:56:00.000-05:00

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

2009-08-20T11:39:00.000-05:00

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. . .

2009-08-17T15:57:00.000-05:00

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

2009-08-07T12:53:00.000-05:00

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!!!

2009-08-06T12:02:00.000-05:00

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?

2009-08-04T06:47:00.000-05:00

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

2009-08-03T07:34:00.000-05:00

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!)

a letter to my fellow wal-mart customers revisited

2009-07-31T06:39:00.000-05:00

This post was originally published on Tuesday, October 21, 2008. I am pleased (yet afraid to say out loud) that it has been at least a month since Kady threw a fit in Wal-Mart. Of course, it's been a month since we've been to Wal-Mart. . .but on a positive note, we did ditch the pacifier! [happy dance]

Dear Y'all,
I'm sorry. Yes, I am THAT mom, and that was my daughter. I'm sure you heard us. You know, the 2-year-old who screamed ALL THE WAY through Wal-Mart. I know several of you thought about calling DHS. Some of you even had your phones out (and may have made the call . . .). I would just like to explain my side of the story (before DHS gets here).

I rarely go to Wal-Mart, and when I do, I usually grab just the essentials. This time, the essentials took up more than my two arms could carry. . .so I got a shopping cart. It turns out my very determined and head-strong daughter (she was Ssssssooooooooo switched at birth with some other totally sweet and laid-back child) didn't want to sit in the cart. She wanted me to hold her. Call me a failure, but I am not able to push the cart and hold her. Thus, she attempted to make the great escape. . .by flinging herself out of the cart. So, while it's quite possible that it looked like I was throwing her out of the cart, I was actually holding her in. I PROMISE.

Shall I just point out that my lovely daughter has red hair? (and the temperament to go with it. . .) This is the child that will have the pacifier until the day that the orthodontist removes it from her braces. This is the child that refused to apologize to her daddy for over thirty minutes after she hit him. This is the child that holds her own against children two times her size. . .not that her brother has anything to do with that. . .And, while we're at it, did you notice my other child standing quietly? (He was thoroughly embarrassed as well. . .)

I'm sorry. I can't say that enough. I know that many of you go to Wal-Mart simply to relax and enjoy the calm, less-frenzied atmosphere. No? Oh, well, then surely you'll forgive me. And, if not, we'll wait till you return to Wal-Mart and you can hold my daughter in the cart. Thanks, for the offer, by the way.

Sincerely,

Well, you can call DHS to get my name and contact information. They'll probably have me on their frequent offender list by tomorrow. . .Just ask for "That Woman in Wal-Mart."