I Did A Really Dumb Thing This Morning...

Coffee brewed on the stove must not have the same special powers that a cup of coffee out of the ole' pot does. I am so used to a morning routine. Get up at 5 am, wander about considering whether or not to set the alarm for 6 am, most likely do that very thing, wake up again at 6 , start making JOdy's lunch and breakfast. I am so used to getting my fave coffee mug down, putting sugar in it and then dumping an obscene amount of vanilla caramel powdered creamer on top, that this morning while I was mixing a big pitcher of Kool-Aid for the kids that I suffered a brain glitch and must have mistook the pitcher for my mug (how I wish I could drink 2 quarts of coffee without repercussions) and dumped vanilla caramel coffee creamer in with the Kool-Aid. It was....interesting....to say the least. The creamer clobbered on up to the top and I was left wondering if there was any other place for me to go but a mental health facility. I'll spare you and not post the recipe, okay????? Unless, of course you think you might like this sort of drink...

Old School Perks...

Well, it was bound to happen. After 10 great years together...it's over. My trusty coffee maker has...sniff...died. (What? You thought I was talking about my marriage for a second...didn't you? NOpe...he's still hanging around :) I can not describe the sense of loss I feel this morning... I got that coffee pot at Big Lots my senior year of high school in anticipation of flying the coop. It went with me everywhere I moved , stuck with me through thick and thin, good and bad times and it has pumped out thousands of cups of coffee...maybe hundred's of cups. Together we've made it through many early mornings. She's been faithful.

I knew it was coming. Last week I went to turn her on and...nothing. After praying (Hey, don't laugh...God wants us to take everything to him...right?) I flicked the switch several times and she roared (sorta) up. As the week progressed, it took more and more flicking. Well, this morning I went to fire her up , like so many other mornings before, anticipating another cup of coffee with vanilla caramel creamer. Flick. Nothing. Flick, Flick. Nothing. "COME ON GIRL...Perk for momma one more time." Flick. NOthing. Smack. "Oh, sorry girl, didn't mean it. It won't happen again." Flick, Flick,Flick, Flick , Flick, AARRRHGGGGGH, Flick , FLick, flick, flick. Nothing. Nada. Lifeless. Well, now what? Guess I'll go old school. So, I took out my filter with my Dollar General Knock-off Arabica inside, tied it with a twist tie and dropped it in a pan of boiling water.

Being the sentimental tight wad that I am, I probably won't go out and buy another coffee pot anytime soon. Oh how I will miss her "perkiness" in the mornings...

I Know I Can Be Mean Sometimes...

but , really. Am I this bad? Lillie was asking how to spell my name and I told her, being the kind of mom who loves to spell my own name twenty times a day. It helps me to remember that I actually have a real name other than Mom and keeps me in practice for when I introduce myself to other adults. ("Hi! My Name is Mom, but you can call me Mommy" :)

Anyhow, I didn't think anymore of it till yesterday morning when I was going through my "files" (aka, school papers slung all over the dining room table) and came across this...

See...that's my name "Della" however, at first glance it read "Devil" and I couldn't help but laugh. The" v" is really two "l's" and she totally left off the "a" I figure she started out writing my name and then switched to her own. Or maybe it's time I mellow out a bit, what do you think! Have a blessed day!

False Advertising!

I've been in the maternity ward of my local hospital three times. And all three times I have heard the "new baby" talk. No matter how many children you have, you still have to sit through it. They tell you how to diaper your baby, how to burp your baby, how to feed your baby, how to bathe your baby etc... But there are some things they don't tell you...
For instance...
They don't tell you that you'll never ever get a solid's night sleep again...ever. Even if your kids go away for the weekend, you'll still find yourself waking up in intervals all night and not being able to sleep past the time your kids are usually up and running.
They fail to mention that you'll never get to use the restroom in peace without
a. Being on exhibition
b. Your ears barraged with shouts and pounding on the door.
c. Seeing little fingers wiggling underneath the door.
It merely slipped their mind to tell you that you can never own a "new" piece of furniture again. Or that painting your walls will be a vain action for many years.
Would it have been too much to ask that they tell you you'll NEVER take more than 2 showers a week...maybe...but not likely?
It would have been nice to know that I would need experience as a waitress, short order cook, garbage man, plumber and a psychologist. A completion in anger management would be of use as well as having the patience of Job, eyes in the back of your head and more than one of you, if at all possible.
And how difficult would it have been to tell me I'd rarely have a conversation that didn't include the words "YOU DID WHAT?", "How many times do I have to tell you..." , "no, don't stick that up your nose", and "why are you eating that?"
They could have told me I'd rarely eat a hot meal without someone wanting to eat off my plate, that I'd never be a size 8 again, or that all that would have to happen in order for a shopping excursion to go off "without a hitch" is to arrive home with all my children and my checkbook.
Yep, they certainly don't tell you everything...I think I might have grounds to sue. But know what? I've never been so glad to have been duped in all my life!
Have a blessed day!

You Know Your Laundry is Out of Hand When...

Where's Chloe??????

What's This???????? Okay, only one cup of coffee in the morning from now on!

Surprise!

You Know It's Gonna Be One of Those Days When...

Your three year old son, who seemed to have potty training licked for good, comes running up to you and says "Mommy! I peed in your washing machine!" ...and he's proud of it!. Now, although I'm sure this will be very amusing down the road when I'm trying to weed out girlfriends, some things minorly bothered me aside from the obvious that the kid is marking his territory on my major appliances.
1. It wasn't the washing machine...that would have been better. It was actually the dryer that had a batch of clean, dry (well, were dry) clothes. Man! At least I could have run a cycle in the washing machine and be done with it...not biggie! But NOOOOOOO, my little overachiever goes all the way!
2. He doesn't know the differences between a washing machine and a dryer (Oh, Lord, where have I failed!!!!!!!!)
3. He thought it was a GOOD idea and one that I would be proud of him for.
Oh well, let's just pray this is not a repeat performance thing...

The Saga Continues...

Donna! I made it! Well, it's been 7 days and according to doctor's orders, I was to have my little Goober back in the emergency room to have those stitches taken out. Oh day that I have dreaded... I thought since I was having company for dinner that I'd go on while my mom-in-law was here to watch the girls so I wouldn't be stuck in the waiting room all evening and not get supper ready. I was going to wait until Jody got out of school, but that was just too late in the day. I mean, how hard can it be? I mean, he's a CHILD and I'm the ADULT! Why am I huddled in a dark closet binge eating? I mean...he's just a little squirt...I can DO this. Ahhh the power of positive thinking. Well, so off me and the little goober went. He once again panicked everytime I mentioned anything doctor related. I gave him a crazy big bag of Tootsie rolls and the bribing started up. Finally, I just got irritated and told him to stop being a baby. We got to the hospital and I was truly embarrassed! I know that sounds horrible. He was scared and all, but he was really not acting very nice. Poor well meaning elderly women all over the joint were trying to talk to him and he'd just wail and blubber and snot. Finally he said he needed to go to the bathroom. Just what I wanted to hear. NOw I could give him that tongue lashing and hushed threatenings and maybe squeeze in a leg swat or pinch. The kid refused to wash his hands and he cried when the automatic paper towel machine kicked in. Finally after about 20 minutes of having to endure the most ungodliest junk on the TV, the nurse called us into the triage. Long story short, she said it could be up to 2 hours before she could see him cause she'd have to wrap him again and hold him and there were no rooms availiable. I just told her we'd be back. I was NOT going to sit in the waiting room with him acting like he was for 2 hours when I could be sucking down a Mocha Latte from McDonald's and drowning my sorrows in snickers bars. I called my mother-in-law who is one of the wisest women I know and she asked me if we couldn't just take the stitches out ourselves. BRILLIANT! I don't know why I didn't think of it (oh because of that half brain cell thingy). I mean the kid's gonna scream regardless, but at least I don't have to wait. So, when Jody got home, I got my embroidery snips and we set to the task which took all of 1 minute and was totally free, except for maybe the therapy I'll have to have after all this.

All Stitched Up!

Well, it was bound to happen to the little guy. I mean, it's only by a miracle of Almighty God that he made it 3 years before...an incident. Yep, little Goober's got 5 stitches. He slipped and hit the coffee table, gashing his eyelid open. I wasn't panicked by the injury as much as I was the prospect of taking my doctor-hating son to the emergency room. I can not stress to you enough how horrible an experience it is to take Jackson to the doctor. He panicked while we buckled him in the car, he panicked all the way to the hospital, he panicked in the parking lot, he panicked at the registration counter ,he panicked in the triage, and he panicked anytime anyone in scrubs looked his way. All this panicking BEFORE they had to restrain him by wrapping him in a sheet, like a little (did I mention, panicky?) king Tut and sew up his eyelid. We bribed and we shushed and we shushed and we bribed. But let me tell you, if you've never had to hold one of your children down while they scream at high decibels and thrash around in fear...you have yet to completely experience parenthood. Jody got a little too much experience, I think, when Jack lost complete bladder control and wet all over him! Man, I've been there...more times than I want to admit. It took one nurse to hold his head and both me and Jody to hold him still on the table. The doc was fabulously quick , however (I think maybe he sensed that my son is a whole different breed of patient, the kind that leave you wishing you'd been a lawyer.) He had a sense of humor, making some little joke about going to see the ear doctor the next day ( now that I think about it, he wasn't smiling when he said it...maybe he was serious.) I sure hope he doesn't sue us! Anyway, we were only at the hospital like and hour and a half which was a miracle within itself and the little goober got a dandy hospital bracelet, stickers, a popsicle , a Sprite and one of his small Christmas presents out of the deal. The kid racked up on the goods! It's a shame how a parent will grovel and carry on when trying to calm a doctor-phobe. Thanks to my brother in law Denny and parent's in law for being here at the house and staying with the girls. Much extra thanks to my mother in law who came over and stayed with me yesterday and risked her life to clean out my closets. She did a great job, even convincing my father in law to take my 12 or so totes of kids clothes to his house! She's very persuasive. She even let me go out...ALONE for a couple of hours. Praise the Lord for a mother in law who can turn drill sergent Nannie in a few seconds and whip these puny kids into shape! I only have one beef...she seemed dead set on leaving me with a basket of socks to sort and mate...oh well, beggers can't be choosy! Have a blessed, stitch free day!

Just One of Those Days...

Ever have em? My children are cranky and rowdy and looking for a fight...the housework seems endless...so much to do and seemingly not enough time to do it...I'm wondering if the Lord wasn't having an off day when he decided I was fit to be a mother (okay, I'm kidding on that one).
Still, as much as I want to yank every single hair out of my head this morning, I am reminded of something a man said to me in the grocery store a week or so back and my reply. See, so often we talk idealistically about our lives to others, yet we seem to forget we said those things later on when the heat is on. I'm sure I'm not the only mother of more than one child that gets this at the store. You're in the check out and your kids are doing what they do best...make a lousy first impression. Some well-meaning person says to you..."My! You sure do have your hands full!" I'm sorry...but I get SOOOOOO TIRED of hearing that. Some people aren't trying to be judgemental or mean, but others , you can just hear the disdain in their voices. Wondering why anyone would want to have that many kids, even if all you have is 2. One such man asked me this question on one of those days when I was poised to talk back and in a pretty good mood . "You sure do have your hands full!" "Yep."was my sophisticated reply. "It's better than having empty hands." He didn't say anything else to me...just smiled that smile people give you when they think you're nuts.
Today, I am reminded of those words that came out of my mouth. It was easy to say it then, but hard to keep it in mind on a day like today when everything is chaotic and I just want to find a dark closet and shut myself in for a couple of hours! But I have to admit...I prefer my hands to be full. I am aware of how quiet my life would be without them. And for all their bad days and bad habits, they have just as many good days and good habits sometimes as well. I just tend to focus only on the bad ones I suppose. I am keenly aware that if I'd focus more on those times they are doing the good, that the bad things and bad days stay in better perspective. The perspective of the verse in Psalms 127 "Lo, children are an heritage of the LORD: and the fruit of the womb is his reward." My children...a reward? Whatever contest I won, I'm not entering again :) All kidding aside, it's the truth. I'd be part empty without my children. They are such a part of me and my life, such a chunk of what the Lord has in store for me, I can't and refuse to imagine life without them ever being in it. Even if they are gone tommorrow, I am better because they have been in my life. Thank You Lord for these little monsters!

I Brake for Deer...

Joy and Prairie Chick...this one's for you guys!

It was Thanksgiving day, the year was 2000. I was travelin' down by Watts Bar Lake tryin' to get to my parent's house to commit gluttony (Hey! It's a holiday, so cut me some slack!). I was probably going 55 mph, but I was so consumed with my desire for cornbread dressing that I failed to notice this sign

Now, just to clarify, this sign doesn not mean "beautiful deer frolicking in the green green forest" It means, "Watch out! A ginormous buck is likely to run out in front of you and total your car!" Okay, with that out of the way, I was totally oblivious to the warning signs. I turned my head to admire the beauty of a Tennessee fall, only to look around and "BAM!"

Okay, so it may not have been this massive, but it sure seemed like it at the time. It did have alot of antler, that I remember! Alright, so lets recap. This deer ran out in front of my Nissan Sentra that was traveling at around 55 mph. Needless to say, it did a bit of damage. Now, I have never been much of a conspiracy theorist, but I believe this deer was just waiting for me to come along. Probably had some buddies with him, but they turned chicken and bailed out at the last minute. Now, this part of the story is surreal. The deer ran (or hobbled) off into the woods. As I was phoning the highway patrol, a pickup truck pulls up behind me. Two rather burly men in camo and orange hunting vests jump out. "You alright, lady?" one said to me. "Uh," I respond looking over at my car "I think so." Silence for a bit. "Soooooo, " the other guy says" Deer hit ya?" "Duh" I think, but since I'm nervous and a bit outnumbered I respond "Yeah." To my relief the highway patrolman pulls up and jumps out. "Did you, ummmm happen to see where it went?" one of the hunter's asked, scanning the woods. "No, sir, don't exactly care either." I answer. The patrolman saunters up and starts scribbling his report. "Maam, you know that by law if you find that deer, you can take it home with you." one of the hunters kinda whispers to me while the patrolman is looking over my car. For a moment, I ponder this. Yeah, I am soooo going to go hunt for that wounded deer and then do what? Strap it onto the top of my car with the hood that is completely crumpled up making it nearly impossible to drive and drive on up to ma and pa's house and announce that I've just brought dinner? Yeah, that's not gonna happen! "So, if you're not going to go find it, do ya mind if me and my buddy here do?" one of the hunters asked me. I smile, "Sure." The patrolman nods at them as well, I suppose bidding them godspeed. Looking back, I think those two guys probably never did one day of real hunting in their lives. Probably just parked on the side of that stretch of highway waiting for some poor hungry female to hit a deer and then "happen" to arrive on the scene. Maybe I am a bit of a conspiracy theorist. Anyhow, I went on my way and did finally make it home for dinner. That dressing was well worth it. So, you see, hunting is serious business to some in these parts. You get em' how you can get em' whether by gun or by compact car!

Need A Laugh?

Much thanks to my sister who left these in my inbox this morning! I needed a good laugh.

The Fever Continues...

Okay, so I worked like a yeller dog last night, burned the midnight oil to finish Jack's lapbook. He loves it and has played with it all morning. Lillie's been playing with her addition lapbook as well. Okay, so here's the pictures of THE LAPBOOK THAT NEVER ENDS!!!!!! (Dramatic, huh?)

This is the clothesline file folder game I made the other night. It helps him with his patterns and sorting skills. I made a similar game for Lillie a couple years back, but we actually pinned the shirts on a clothesline with real clothes pins. It was very fun and very effective.

This is a page of matchbooks with the numbers written on the outside and objects to count inside. Click here to get the printables.Jack loves trains. I couldn't find what I was looking for, so I just made what I was looking for. I found train clip art and altered it in my photoshop program. On the green engine part, I put the Upper case Letter, then on the little red freight car, I put the lower case letter. I printed them on cardstock and cut each letter's train in half. It made a great train themed matching game to help with letter recognition. By the way, I know that C and B are not the same letters, I just threw two cars together to illustrate how the game works.Okey Dokey! Here's another number game I got here.This is a matching game for color and shape recognition. Get it here.A memory game with Jackson's favorite thing...modes of transportation. He's fascinated with anything with wheels or anything that will get you somewhere. Finally, a collection of flashcards I got on this nifty site , ZiggityZoom!Okay, onto other things. Jody decided that we were all gettin' too flabby around here and so he forced the whole family to do sit ups last night. Obviously he has overlooked that we are all perfect physical specimens who need no nightly workouts. I burned calories just laughing at the kids trying to do sit-ups. Here's some pics and some video...

This is daddy teaching proper technique to the kiddos.

Here's Lillie wondering why she has to be the one to hold Jack's stinky little feet.Jack finally did one...I think because Chloe was praying for him in the background.

This video of Lillie echoes just exactly how I feel about doing sit-ups!

Here's Chloe doing her thang. She's a cutie when she sweats! Daddy's a bit of a slavedriver, isn't he? 10 SITUPS???!!!!

We'll all have abs of steel instead of abs of Jell-O in no time!

Help! My Baby Is a ... CHOCAHOLIC!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Ask anyone and they'll tell you, I'd rather eat chocolate than anything else most of the time. They also say, the apple doesn't fall far from the tree...

HMMMMM? Chloe's been awful quiet, I wonder what she's doing? I think I'll take a peek... Gosh, it's kinda dark in there...What's this?

She's fiddling with something that looks an awful lot like an 8 pack of Reese's cups. I better go in for a closer look...
SURPRISE!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

YOU ARE SO BUSTED!!!!!!!!!!!!!

ANYONE KNOW ANY SUPPORT GROUPS?????

He's Quite the Catch Ladies! At least in 20 years or so...

Just a post that goes to show that kids do say the funniest and strangest things. I was in the midst of my usual lecture this morning to the children concerning what sort of folks they want to be. Our memory verse for this week is Proverbs 20:11 "Even a child is known by his doings..."

I was trying to tell them that our actions display what kind of people we are. "Do you want to be known as the mean, hateful little boy nobody wants to play with?" I asked Jackson, really fearing his answer. He was speechless. I asked Anna, "What sort of a person do you want to be when you grow up?" She said she wanted to get married and cook supper! Good answer! I then asked Jackson the same question. He thought for a moment and then said "I want to get married and eat cheesburgers all the time!" Well, go ahead and sign your daughters up on the waiting list ladies! He'll be availiable in 20 or so years! Of course Jody and I might actually have to save up some sort of dowry , you know, go Old Testament! Issuing a no return policy might not be such a bad idea either!

11th Most Dangerous Job...

Okay, so I found a list of the top ten dangerous jobs in America . Now I agreed with the majority of the jobs on the list. Logger, no doubt, wouldn't want to do that job. Big trees fallin' on you, not pleasant. Airplane Pilot? Forget it, not without a concealed carry permit.Seriously. But where was motherhood!? I mean, there may not be as many fatalities as other occupations, but I know I've got more stress than a taxi driver or a chaffeur! Wait! I Am a chaffeur! My children are...an experience (that's as kind as I can put it.)when driving around town. Jackson loves to scream 'Go Mommy!" at red lights when I'm not really paying attention. If we're going to , say, the library, and I decide to take an alternate route, they freak out and little Miss GPS in the back row starts saying "Mom, you needed to turn left back there." Chloe senses when we are almost to the grocery store and launches into full scale fit throwin' which puts me in the running for a fender bender.
Number 5 on the list was a Garbage Collector! Need I say anymore? I collect garbage all day. But does a garbage collector have people come and grab stuff out of his truck and strew it all over the road?
My job is very dangerous and stressful. If I need to make an important phone call, and my kids are awake, I have to hide in closets risking head injury because my closets are a fire hazard. Housebreaking a 3 year old ! I'm screaming right now inside! My nagging gland is worn out! I almost passed out the other day blowing on some hot pizza rolls at lunch! I have a repetitive motion injury in my wrist from diaper changing and nose wiping! A nervous twitch when I take them out in public and my tear ducts go nutsy when I think about them growing up!
In conclusion, I would like someone to recognize us mothers for our dedication in the face of danger everyday! It's a battle out there, man! I'm outnumbered by children every day. But, I wouldn't trade my dangerous job for anything in this world! I'm just gonna add a bullet-proof panel to my apron and truck on!

Why I've Decided to Plant an Apple Orchard...

An apple a day keeps the doctor away, that's why! Oh, the day I have dreaded all year arrived yesterday. I awoke that morning, wiping the sleep from my eyes, stretched and thanked my Lord for another day. Then I realized what lay ahead, and I thought about taking that last bit back...
Yes, it's check-up day! First, I must confess that I've never been one to rush my kids off to the doctor. In fact, I don't like doctors appointments myself. I 'd rather chew off my own arm as to go. But, I feel I have done my children a disservice because they are petrified of the doctors office! I mean, padded wall petrified. Straight jacket petrified. Circus clown petrified! Jackson worse so than Lillie.
Poor Jack. He has refused to take the thermometer under the tongue the last couple of times he's had to go, and the alternative is none too pleasant. So, yesterday morning, we practiced using a thermometer. Now, that was sad. A good thirty minutes I spent sticking it in his mouth and just when I considered trying to round up a small sedative, he did it, without screaming! I was feeling pretty good. Left Chloe with Jody and, since she screams anytime you put her down, I thought I was going to have it easy compared to him.
The kids went bonkers in the waiting room, I suppose from nerves. And I had a stack of paperwork to fill out that made me mourn the loss of thousands of trees. Finally, the moment of truth.
Lillie did fine. Stepped on the scale, took the thermometer, smiled and told Jack he was acting like a big baby. And did my little guy take the thermometer calmly? Not really. He freaked out as usual. Well, so we got back to the little room and Lillie again did fine with her vitals. Jack's blood pressure was unusually high, for some odd reason, so they had to take it again later. Jack screamed everytime someone came near him. And when he wasn't screaming , he and Lillie were running bonkers around the exam room. Next, the nurse handed me two little hospital gowns.
Jack took a look at the gown, then the nurse, then me and asked, "Is this a dress?" "No, it's a gown, honey. You need to put it on." He looks at the gown, then the nurse, then me, "Uh, I'm not wearing a dress. I'm a boy, boys don't wear dresses." "Honey, it's a ... you know what , just put it on." He did, but he didn't like it. Kept on muttering about having to wear a dress.
Well, their doctor is male, so they calmed down considerably and Jack did okay, Lillie did fine.
"Well, they look good, Mrs. Davis. Now, it looks like Lillie needs a hemoglobin (that's fancy talk for stabbing your finger) and is due for 5 shots and looks like Jackson needs 3." Then he leaves and lets the sweet nurse do his evil bidding.
I swallow...hard. "Do you perhaps have any sedatives?" I ask the nurse as she comes in. She laughs. She doesn't get it. "NO...I'm serious. Do you?" She still thinks I'm kidding.
Lillie immediately melts down. Hunches down in a corner screaming "NO NO NO Don't do it! OH NO Please!" I smile at the nurse. I can since now the panic in her eyes. She has no idea.
I had to hold Lillie down on the table. She screamed and almost threw up because she gagged on her own spit. The nurse was flying through the shots. Jack was in the corner now, screaming and launching into full scale panic. I had to hold him down. He is ALOT stronger than I am. And I laid on top of him and covered his mouth, all while singing "Amazing Grace". When it was over, I looked up at the nurse, both of us sweating and flushed. "Bet you get this alot." I say. She looks at me and smiles a weak little smile. "No, not really." I wouldn't be surprised if that twenty something nurse slips into early retirement.
Before she left, she reviewed all the info she had gathered and said, "Lillie's getting at that age when taking care of her teeth is important. Have you taken her to the dentist yet?"
I smile. "What do you think?"