recent kady-isms

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...

good question

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

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

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. . .

The NEW Crocodile Hunter

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. . .

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

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.

it's actually kinda logical

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

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.

it's a small world

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?

wrapped

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

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?

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. : )

questions you don't ever want to ask

#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!"

sunny days update

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.

Attack of the Pouffy Hair

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. . .

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?"

A Series of Unfortunate Events

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?

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

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.