Wednesday, March 24, 2010

Raising a Princess

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?"

Wednesday, March 17, 2010

hi ho, hi ho, to louisiana we go

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.

Wednesday, March 3, 2010

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

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. . .

Thursday, February 25, 2010

he doesn't know me

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 ! ! !

Friday, February 19, 2010

Buttering Up

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. . .

Wednesday, February 17, 2010

A Public School Presidential Education

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!

Tuesday, February 16, 2010

Ordering the Truth Around. . .But Just a Little

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?