We had a special visitor on Memorial Day.....Baby Anna!!

Oh....and Nana and Aunt Jackie came along as well. But basically, the kids played with Anna Kate all day long. Like really, all. day. long.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

• ANNA: "Who are all these little people who keep staring at me, and talking to me, and fighting over who gets to hold me next?"
  

• ANNA: "Nah, I'm just kiddin'....I know who they are....my cousins!!"

• See this little girl, well, I like to pull her pigtails. It's loads of fun.

• And this guy....I love to pinch his cheeks. Why not? Everyone loves mine.

• Oh and I love to gnaw on a finger. Especially Uncle Temple's.

• And that big boy.....he's cool. Really cool.
  
  

Totally.

Sigh......."couldn't you just look at her for hours?"

More Favorites of ANNA

"Aw, Mom, do we HAVE to leave?"

SATURDAY SHOWCASE......a graduation post.

I don't even really know what to say, other than this can't be my child. He isn't old enough to go to high school.

Just last week it felt like he was watching Clifford the big Red Dog movies....oh, wait, that was just last week. In the car, on the way to gymnastics, when Tyner Beth announced what DVD would grace the SUV.

• Kudos to you, my dear son, for taking this milestone step with ease. And congratulations on your awards as well. We are especially proud of your Presidential award....given to those who have maintained a high grade point point average and scored high on the SAT's. (We are not as proud of the president's signature line. )

He's such a sweetheart. A fantastic big brother. And the best firstborn son a mom could ever hope to have. Sure, he's my learning curve...my first attempts at all things parenthood....but we gotta start somewhere! You make your Dad and I proud, daily. And the love we hold for you just keeps growing with every passing moment.

I am ever thankful that the Lord allowed me this gift, in you. This good work HE created, that we get to share in life with.......

......"being confident of this, that he who began a good work in you will carry it on to completion until the day of Jesus Christ." ~~Philippians 1:6

Cousins are awesome.

The other day I received this package in the mail. I love getting mail. Such a sweet, small pleasure in life.


Inside was a nice note from my cousin, Carla. Who just so happened to be blessed with being my roommate for a couple of years while at Auburn. Okay, okay, maybe being "blessed" is a stretch.....as I was ever so thrilled to have her live with me, it probably wasn't as evident as I would have liked it to have been.

All my life, I've been the baby and grandbaby of the family. Older siblings, older cousins on both sides. I'm not saying I had to suffer through this rite of passage, being the baby wasn't so bad. :) But I always yearned to see what it felt like to be older than someone else, you know, to get to be the BOSS of them.

This is where Carla comes into my scenario of life supervision. Poor Carla. I loved her like the little sister I never had......which at times, probably was more than she bargained for!! :)

Anyway, in her lovely letter, she mentioned being in Auburn over the weekend and was thinking of us. She even talked about how she enjoyed reading our blog and staying caught up with all things family. So, for a brief moment in time, I thought.......hmmm, maybe she read this post concerning my need for a new fancy iron. And she's searched the world over until she found me the ultimate in pressed clothing duties---an AU collegiate iron that plays the fight song when you press the steam button.

Then I realized that the package was entirely too light for that product. But was instantly delighted when I pulled this out:


It may become my favorite wardrobe accesory for summer. Because the sun, in my eyes, is no good. And this hat, is just lovely.

Of course, Carla did mention that I had to share it with the little miss in the house. She wrote something about the fact that with her being in gymnastics and all, blah, blah, blah. Whatever. I'll let her wear it around the house while I'm in the shower, maybe. But that sucker is mine. The package was addressed to me, and that's the way it is. Because this time around, I'm not just playing around....I am the boss.

It's one of those perks of having the title, Mom.

Carla, please accept this as my horrid example of a thank you. And I hope to get a real one in the mail to you very soon. In an attempt to stay in your good graces. So that if, with your keen eyes, you ever come across that War Eagle iron, you'll ship it to me, ASAP. :) But until then, I guess I will just have to keep pressing the dewrinkle button on the dryer.

As promised, I present to you, egg toss '09.

What on earth could be more exciting than entering the raw egg toss, mid-afternoon, in the heat of the south in May? My thoughts, exactly.

But all three of my kids do it.....every single year. It must be some carry-over desire from our Easter Egg Battles . They each LOVE the egg toss. And amazingly, those darn eggs are pretty sturdy.

Why, they can even be thrown, dropped, and roll around on the field day lawn and still won't break. But in the end, a winner has to be determined.....so, after several minutes of hearing "take a big step back, and toss"..... when factoring in distance, pressure, heat, and a child's tight, gripping catch.....an eggshell, eventually, will break.

And the participants will be left with a gooey yolk mess, mid-afternoon, in the heat of the south in May. My thoughts, eggsactly.

Some serious cradling efforts were bestowed upon the egg during the catches.

The sweet declaration of another round of "take a step back and toss" victory.

Because I am a mind-reader....his thoughts:
"Please let him catch it. Please let him catch it. Please let him catch it."

Apparently, his partner caught it.
Or else he's trying out some new moves for breakdance class next week.

"Please let me catch it. Please let me catch it. Please let me catch it. "

Uh-oh.....the bitter, sticky, feel of gooey egg yolk defeat.

I'm contemplating entering next year....even though I'm not school age. Now, who wants to sign up to be my partner?

Will they be Blue Ribbon Winners or Orphans???

Field Day was last week at the kids school. What fun. Loads and loads, in the heat, with raw eggs, kind of fun. Oh, the stories I could tell.....but I'll keep it short and just let the pictures do most of the talking.

Although I must tell you about their Dad's big pep speech on the morning of Field Day. He has always attended field day, every year, for the last 7 years. And has either stayed the entire day, or at the very least, a few hours in the morning. This year work duties called and sadly he had to miss. Prior to their departure for Field Day, he shared these words of endearing fatherly love and encouragement to his children:

• "Look, either you bring back some blue ribbons, or don't come home!"

Thank the Lord they all managed to reel in a few 1st place trips to the finish line. I have shown only a sampling of the ribbons for proof......mainly because I can't find the rest. I think I lost several of the others somewhere between the snow cone machine, my camera bag, and the dunking booth. But, don't tell anybody. I'll just slide these in the keepsake box with the others from the past 7 years and no one has to know. When the kids turn 35, they can fight over who won the blue for the 50 yard dash of '09. I'll be way past the crazy ward by then.

Always a favorite....the piggy-back race. Tyner Beth looks like she's enjoying the ride. My biggest regret this Field Day is that I did not get THE shot of the day...... I missed Walt riding his friend Big E's back in this race, for their grade division. They have won the piggy back race every year since they began their school career. And this year was no exception......the teachers informed me they were 50 yards ahead of the rest, and walked across the finsih line, with Walt pumping his fist the entire way. Too cute. If only I had the photo to show.

Look....Elvis is alive....he's shorter than usual, has blonde hair, and appears to be tied to someone elses leg, but those are definitely a pair of his signature sunglasses!!

TB choking up on her "3-legged" friend.....

"My Dad said we had to bring home the blue ribbons....or else."

Thank goodness......they WON! Apparently their strategy of only wearing

one pair of shoes between them worked to their advantage!

What Field Day fun is all about....... Still tied together, holding on tight to your friends, and letting your blue ribbons wave in the breeze.....

'cause it ain't just a race to the finish line.....it may very well be your ticket home.

~~Stay tuned later in the week for a whole post dedicated to one child's version of the egg toss extravaganza. I know, you can hardly wait, right?

SATURDAY SHOWCASE......science fair s'mores

Walt was thrilled to have placed 2nd at his school in the science fair two weeks ago. We were very proud of both he and Rivers, who by the way, received Honorable Mention with his science project about friction. Walt's project was a solar oven, made from a pizza box, black paper, and aluminum foil. He "cooked" a batch of s'mores on our rooftop one afternoon, and they were delicious. His oven was able to melt the chocolate, partially "toast" the marshmallows, and the temperature inside the oven even reached 195 degrees!!

Because he won locally, he was able to compete again this week in the county fair against 2 other schools. He didn't place in the county, apparently there were no s'mores lovers in the crowd of judges. Hmph.

However here's what he did do:

• had a great time with his buddies, ate a few chocolate chip cookies, had an excused absence to miss a day of school in the classroom, talked it up with the judges, ate Sonic for lunch, including a strawberry smoothie as opposed to school cafeteria food, looked fab in his blue oxford shirt, and hey......isn't that all that really matters anyway?

It was Colonel Mustard, with a candlestick, in the LIBRARY.

Recently, I was in the library returning the kids movies and a few books I had read. Because....hello?....Did you know you can get books from the library to read? And they don't cost a dime....unless they become overdue and then they do, in fact, cost a dime....or sometimes 60 cents, in my case.

Anyway, I read a lot. Usually, a minimum of 4 books a month. Two are the assigned selections for the month, which come from my two book clubs. I just love my book club groups. And then I read a few others on top of those. Nerd. I know.

When Temple and I had our first child, and we lived on much less income than now, the baby and I practically lived at the local library in our town at the time. We went for children's story hour twice a week, and then walked to the library at least one other day during the week and usually again on the weekend. And even with all 3 kids in tow....I still made many, many trips to the library. I hated to leave that town, our first home, and the sweet library that was merely 6 blocks away.


Of course now, the kids use their school library, primarily. It seemed like several months had passed, possibly close to a year, and I hadn't been to the library. I was still reading.....tons. So where are all these pages of literature coming from?.......


Let me just say.....the husband may be requesting a Barnes & Noble bailout package before long. Because clearly..... I enjoy a good book store almost as much as I love Mt. Dew, with crused ice, in a plastic stadium cup--which is to say, a lot!! However, the B & N can be a bit pricey, at times.

I intervened on my own behalf, and my husband's wallet, and went back to the library. It's small. They don't always have my book club selections because....it's a small library. And almost always, they only carry one copy of each title because.....it's a small library. And you know what that means, if it's a best seller or popular author, you are out of luck for two more weeks, because.....it's a small library.

But,you know what? During this economic crisis, I have fallen in love all over again with the library's....it's free to read method.

Don't worry.....Barnes & Noble and I didn't break up completely. We still see each other on occasion. I walk in, take in a big deep breath of the smell from the coffee corner and then stroll around the aisles to let my eyes feast upon the multitude of goodness they have shelved.

And besides, they offer a great sale table that has become a true friend to me.


So, if you're a bookworm (or even if you're not, but know a good read).....let me know what you're reading....or suggest a great author for me to search for in the Dewey Decimal System!!

Yep, another Mother's Day came and went.....and the kids just acted like a bunch of swine.

We've been really living high on the hog around here lately. Most everyone was home for my Dad's birthday dinner this weekend. The two youngest of his granddaughters decorated my house with paper signs posted on EVERY door on the main level, and numerous colored ribbons (from my ribbon bin) tied to varying pieces of furniture and knobs all around.

TB was so excited about their "main" sign taped to the door that PawPaw would walk to upon arrival. She came running to show me, announcing she had made up a rhyme, all by herself.....it read, "your 75 and your still alive."

Hey. It rhymes.

So, after all those wondrous festivities of celebrating the aliveness of our father, we move to Sunday. A day on the calendar in celebration of Mothers. And it was great. Rain, thunderstorms, I didn't have the needed craft supplies for the Sunday School project, more rain and thunderstorms, my Mom ran out of time and didn't get to make potato salad for Sunday lunch, more rain and thunderstorms, and to top it all off, my sister's face was swelled (from a condition she has, but is on medication for)....and when I say swelled, I mean SWELLED....as in, she could have won a spot on Discovery Health's freak show special. (sorry, she declined a photo opportunity which I would have only planned on using to further science advancements, not as mere blog material.) Which I am happy to report, she is doing much better. The swelling had subsided substantially by late Sunday afternoon......so much that PBS might have still took her as a half-hour special, but Discovery Health probably would have turned their head in search of others, more medically freakish.

But look on the bright side....you get to see MUD pictures from Mother's Day--- better known as SWINE FEST '09. Kind of like the Easter Egg Battles.....certainly not your average, run of the mill holiday fare, but normal to our family.

So, I told you about all the rain......and sometimes, you can be fortunate enough to find a good mudhole after a lot of rain. And you can try to skate through it:


Or use it as a natural "slip and slide"---much better than that plastic mat version.


You can make a big splash....

Or not. You may not have enough body weight to plummet yourself into the actual puddle, and thus come to a screeching halt mere inches from the swine fest.

However, with lots of encouragement and proper technique advice from your siblings and cousins, i.e. ("run fast, faster, faster, okay get down, NOW!").....you too can achieve success as a swine look-a-like. Look at that form. Boy, that gymnastics training is really paying off.

Playing in the mud can be likened to circumstances in life:

You can either face things head on

Or lay around and wallow in it.

One thing is for certain.......cousins + mud + a free afternoon in the grandparents yard......

well, it's enough to make just about anybody SMILE. (please notice the artwork on his back)

You know what they say....now there's a face ONLY a mother could love.....and an Aunt KK.

And due to the procrastination child's recent issues, we've decided it's never too early to start working ahead for next year's science project. How's this for a catchy title

• "With just the right soil, you CAN grow potatoes in you ears!"

That should be a definite winner. And that, my friends, is how I spent the remainder of Mother's Day. Digging out my son's ear. Ahhhh, a mother's work is never done.

But boy do I ever love that title. Mother. It's music, or in this case, mud, to my ears.

4th grade History---it's even better the second time around.

I remember giving birth to my middle child.

I remember it distinctly, although I will spare you those details.

However, I DO NOT remember giving him the middle name...."procrastination".

I'm fairly confident that even in my drug induced, labor pained, state of mind, I did not write that in the box on his birth certificate official records.

But, apparently I did.

He has worked this week, most diligently LAST NIGHT on a project for Alabama History. A project that was assigned over a month ago. A project that he busted his tiny hiney to complete. A project that kept him up 2 hours after his scheduled bedtime. A project that only allowed him a supper break. A project that he also did extra credit items for because he left two of his sheets in his desk, at school, unfinished, and he knew those would count against his score. A score that is worth 400 points towards his grade in History.

During the process of helping him gather information for his project and trying to locate a sheet that named all of the 20 requirements, I ventured to his back pack. Knowing he hasn't carried it to school in a while, I thought I'd take a gander in there anyway, in hopes of finding a note. Even a month old note, concerning the project and necessary requirements.

I didn't find a note. I found graded papers from Oct. and Dec. And shoved at the bottom of one zippered pouch, was a nice sealed envelope, from the school counselor, addressed to "the parents of procrastination child". Not really. It had his name, all nice and neat.

Inside was a letter about a program from Duke University. Apparently he scored in the 99th percentile on SAT testing in the area of Math and Science. They (Duke) consider him to have "strong intellectual abilities", and would like to track him over the next couple of years. Offer encouragement to continue challenging himself, special motivation and support.

I call in the father and notify him, and we call in procrastination child to take a short break from the 4th grade history project.

• "When did the counselor send this note home with you?"
• "Um, I'm not sure, I think it was in February."
• "FEBRUARY? This is May. Why didn't you give it to us?"
• "Well, the Counselor said it was something about Duke University, and maybe getting a scholarship sometime. And I don't want to go to Duke."

Well, there you have it. One minute you are working hard to label all the counties on your home state map, write a report about the Creek Indians, color a picture of the state bird......and the next, you are defending your right to ban Duke as a collegiate option.

We'll see. Duke may not want to track him after he fails 4th grade History.

Boy....75 years is a long time....Happy Birthday, Daddy.

That's right.....believe it or not, that good looking, hunk of a man, is 3/4 of a century old. Now that's a load of years to celebrate cinco de mayo....and he doesn't even know a single word of spanish!! :)

My kids enjoyed some time with their "PawPaw", a few weekends back, helping plant the garden. Something, I'm certain, will become a complete lost art in their generation.

• And I am ever so thankful my Dad is still around to help teach them the finer side of using, and more importantly, feeling God's dirt.

I know I'm the baby of the family, but I think my Daddy's somebody real special. Maybe it's because the older I get, the more he reminds me of my PawPaw, his father. And that man, well, I thought he was more esteemed than Moses himself. In my eyes, as well as many others, there has never been a better man.

• I bet that's what my baby girl will say about her PawPaw one day too.

I read this quote and it certainly resounds truth to my ears:

"By the time a man realizes that maybe his father was right, he usually has a son who thinks he's wrong." ~~Charles Wadsworth

My Daddy isn't always a man of many words. But even in his silence, he brings wisdom. I love him dearly.

• Happy 75th Birthday, Dad.....from your favorite child. :)

text me. i'm stranded in Wal-Mart.......and the oreos may be all that sustains me.

((( First off let me just say that I hope none of you reading this were hurt or incurred any damage from the storms over the weekend. And if so, my prayers are with you. But with that said, I must tell my storm story.....because all the therapists say it's good to open up and share. :) )))

So, that was my motto for Saturday. Yep.....due to tornado warnings, I was stranded in the shoe department of Wally World for almost two hours.

And they don't even have good shoes.

I did see some new "jellies" on the girls aisle......that brings back memories of sticky, slimy, dirt-ladden, stinky feet from 1984. I think I had a pair in every color. Who in their right mind thought plastic shoes were a good idea? And who in their right mind decided it was a good idea to bring them back?

Anyway, I had almost completed the entire shopping floor circuit when the announcement was made. "We need all shoppers to go to the back of the store. All shoppers go to the back of the store. We also need all cashiers to close their lanes, and report to the back of the store."

My shopping cart was on the last frozen food aisle, almost to the produce area.....which is my last stop. They say hindsight is 20/20......well, if only I hadn't dawdled so much trying to decided how many flavors of dippin' dots I should bring home to my children.........I could have escaped.

But, I did not. So, I was sent back with all the other shoppers. To the back of the store. Ordered to stand in only the designated areas.....between shoes and crafts.

We weren't allowed to wander the store or to continue shopping even in the back area, we had to stay put. Safety regulations and all. Let me say, there are lots of interesting folks who frequent the wal-mart on saturday afternoon. Lots. I love people watching. I am a rebel. So, I ventured down the shoe aisles, over to the craft section, and twice told them I had to use the bathroom, just to see what those huddled over by cameras were doing.

And all the while, I was texting people I love....people I knew would try their best to carry on a conversation with me, via a type pad, just to pass the time. One of which, was my husband. He gave me storm updates. He also tried to provide humor with texts like this.. "If something happens will wal mart pay us?"

No, but when I get home, you are gonna wish the tornado or an alien spaceship had sucked me up and displaced me far far away from you! And this one... "don't let the cold melt". Sure thing Einstein....I should have made a quick run over to outdoor/sporting goods to grab a styrofoam cooler before I was summoned to the back of the store. If only you would have been here to keep me straight. If only.

One was my sister, she told me she "didn't want to gloat, but they were about to sit down and eat Boston Butt, potato salad, cole slaw and wickles". Thanks, sis. I am starving, as I was here buying some items to cook and bake for supper, as well as church fellowship meal, and book club meeting. Which reminds me of the food I have in my cart. So, I truck back over to where I left my cart....back by the hiring center kiosk, near the bathrooms.....and decide I must open up my box of Triscuits. So, I do. With navy shirt, khaki pant wearing employees all around. And I dare them to stop me.

And then, all these little people start showing their phones with the tornado pictures their family and friends are sending them. So, wow, there really was a tornado in our area. Imagine that. And I assume, with it having passed, the check out lanes will re-open and life will be normal again.

When will I ever learn, life is never normal for me. The manager makes this announcement: "The first storm has passed, there was a confirmed tornado in it, and there is another storm coming behind it. I cannot make you stay here, so you are free to leave the store now, if you want. However, we are still under tornado warning and as such, I cannot open the check out lanes, so you cannot be checked out before you leave. And if you stay, you must remain here at the back of the store, there will be no shopping, either....and we will be here until at least 6:20....which is when they estimate the warning to be lifted."

Allrightythen. After just spending 40 minutes with my dearest wal-mart friends, huddled by the light up tennis shoes, I'm not sure I can take anymore. With that announcement, realizing it will be another hour before we are released......I panic. And go back to my buggy for the hard stuff, none of this healthy-fiber-triscuit mess. Desperate times call for desperate measures. If the tornado gets me, I'm at least going to have a smile on my face. I pull out the DOUBLE STUFF OREOS. And proceed to walk the shoe aisles offering them to anyone who is in need. Beleive it or not, I had several takers. Two employees who had missed their "break" due to our storm dilema, and a mother/daughter twosome who made me laugh.

They had already bought their supper time groceries at another store and only stopped in here to buy the shrimp.......because "PawPaw insisted he wanted steak and shrimp". They called their loved ones to tell them the news of our impending release, which was to be an hour away, and PawPaw announced he was coming down to the parking lot to get the steaks out of their car.

Forget the tornado, a man has to eat.

At any rate, we did survive the lock down of '09. And all that was harmed was my Reddi Whip, cream cheese, crescent rolls, cottage cheese and hot dogs (because I'm still supporting the pig farmers).

At 6:20, we heard the beloved announcement over the loud speakers. And I sent out this text to everyone who had kept me sane by texting me back during the almost 2 hour stand-off...:

"Praise the Lord, they are releasing the masses. We are free to shop again. Dairy aisle here I come."

And so I did. I exchanged all my cold goods, which were now lukewarm, for some fresh. And rushed my way to the front for check out, only stopping to grab one of every kind of dippin' dots in stock. Because clearly, it had been a hard experience for me and my children back home, whom I'm certain were in such fear for their mom. (They were in the basement, playing with nerf guns, oblivious to my situation.)

I was just waiting for my good friend who shall remain anonymous (hello, Jill) to text me back and say....."that's what you get for shopping at Wal-Mart." But she refrained.

Let me just say, if you ever see the threat of storms coming to your area, and are at a loss of things to do for fun on Saturday afternoon, and enjoy the amazing characters visible when you stop to people watch......the shoe aisle at the back of Wal-Mart is the place to be. Just be sure to get your box of oreos first. Double Stuff. It's worth it.

I can see the headlines now......

• SWINE FLU TO BLAME FOR WEIGHT GAIN

Seriously......I felt so sorry after I read a statement from a Des Moines, Iowa pig farmer (because the pig farmers are taking a serious cut in the pocketbook for this newsreel drama)......anyway, I went to the grocery store. And guess what? I loaded up one of every kind of pork meat they were selling back at the butcher counter.

I bought bacon, sausage, pork chops, and hot dogs (although I think they may have a few more additives that just pork products). And I just finished making sausage delights for Tyner Beth as an afternoon snack. And I'm planning to have the kids help cook, Pork Chops with apples, from our recipe blog, to serve for supper.

I'm trying to do my part in helping save the farmers of America.....or at least that little fellow in Iowa. I may protest downtown next week with a sign that says "EAT MORE SWINE". Or at the very least write my congressman and tell him to change the name to "coyote flu". That seems pretty harmless.....no one eats coyotes, do they? No one has a coyote farm, do they? Coyotes are not domestic pets, are they?

So there. Name problem, flu epidemic, solved. Call me politically incorrect, if you must.....but that's me....just your average wife and mother, promoting world peace while eating a bacon biscuit. So, who's with me?