Nana’s Here!

We have had Nana here with us since Tuesday and it’s been blissful.  I know I probably said this back when she was here in October, but it definitely deserves repeating, life is so much easier around these parts when there is a grandparent along.  It’s what I imagine it would be like to have 4 arms and hands.  I would be able to get so much more done!  Honestly, I think we all know that Nana is was better than an extra pair of appendages.  She’s company, a grown up that I can talk to throughout the day and that right there is just priceless.  Living amongst several impressionable little people, I can’t just sit down and watch the news very often.  I tried that once to see how the Boston Marathon was going and caught it just in time to see bombs go off.  Right about the same time Mattie came into the room.  Thankfully, she herself decided that those were the cheering noise makers and thought nothing else of it.  Anyway, my point here was that I am painfully behind on my current events and adult interaction and having someone around over the age of 15 is nice.

Nana being here also allows for me to run to the store and run little errands by myself.  I love my children and I love their company. I love their take on the world and nothing makes me smile quite like Reese singing along to our Kix 106.  I love our conversations and when they ask me questions about things.  I also have to admit that I sort of like the time that I have them captive and can lecture them about things as we ride around in the car.  But once in a while, it’s nice to just run in and out of a store without having to take the troops with me.  It’s nice to only fasten one seat belt and shut one door and not have to worry about holding hands when I go to cross the street.  I am always amazed at how fast I can run an errand when it’s just me.  So a big thank you to Nana for coming and doing what she loves, being a grandma, which allows me to do what I love, being the mama, a little easier for a few days.

I’ve also been allowed to sleep in which is WONDERFUL.  And this is where I will take a very small moment to say that the Ikea duvets are extremely misleading.  To those of you who have never visited Ikea and seen their bedding concourse, they sell these duvets that look about the size of a small children’s sleeping bag.  We purchased a king size one during our visit this past weekend and truly, its circumference was probably 8 inches.  I was having my doubts that this was really going to do the job for my sleeping needs.  I tend to like heavy bedding, something that feels about like having a 6-year-old sleeping on top of me.  I like I chilly room with heavy covers, it gives me that sleeping in a cloud feeling.  Anyway, I don’t know how those Swedes do it, shoving a cloud size comforter in a bag made to fit a subway sandwich, but they did and I am loving them for it.  So being allowed the extra time to hang out in my new heaven bedding thanks to Nana being here, it’s like my own little morning vacation.

We had big plans that when Nana was here, we would put her green thumb to use and finally do something about the barren flower beds in front of our house.  That plan hasn’t exactly come into fruition yet, but I blame it primarily on Lowe’s and Home Depot and their serious lack of Begonia flats.  In the mean time, we have been doing other important things with Nana like visiting Toys R’Us and building elaborate cities with Legos….and visiting the Jewish Community Center pool.  I was so excited to be able to share the people watching with someone else.  I think Nana was just as fascinated with the fellow members as I have been.

And on that note, I would like to share some of my latest pool observations.

Observation #1: Reese’s pool bag.  Every day, Reese insists on bringing his own pool bag.  It is hardly what I would consider pool appropriate, being made of heavy canvas with a leather handle.  Inside of this bag are I’m sure what everyone else considers pool essentials, extra underwear, a mask, a pair of goggles, a small plastic frying pan – you never know, a felt piece of toast, arm floaties, Batman sunglasses, and a bright green maglight flashlight. I’m glad he’s thinking ahead.

Observation #2: The man wearing pajamas in the pool.  I have noticed in my 33 years that people sometimes wear extra clothes while swimming.  It isn’t uncommon at all to see someone wearing a t-shirt over their bathing suit either to prevent sunburn or to cover themselves for other reasons.  Shorts over bathing suits is also quite common.  Even sometimes seeing people wear these things instead of a regular bathing suit isn’t unheard of.  But the man wearing the flannel Memphis Tiger pajama pants, I just don’t quite understand.  Pants don’t really seem conducive for the whole swimming experience anyway, unless they are those lycra pant swim suit jumper things that olympic athletes wear…or wet suits.  Especially flannel, when I go to pick out something for poolwear, flannel has NEVER been even a consideration.  That one really puzzled me.

Observations #3: Swim Diapers.  I think I mentioned the other day about the person who put the swim diaper on over their childs suit.  Not a method I have ever used, (then again, I am the person who forgot about a swim diaper entirely the other day and my kid was just a time bomb waiting to explode….I like to live on the edge like that.) but the other day I saw a lady and her child who seemed to have never heard of swim diapers at all.  This poor child was walking around with a regular, super absorbent Pamper on under her suit and looked as though she was about to topple over due to the imbalance going on behind her.  This child’s diaper was so swollen, she was able to be to two pools at a time.  It was crazy!  And when the mom went to lift her child out of the pool and  a) the kiddo was entirely too heavy and 2) half the pool came out in the diaper…I think my mouth actually dropped open.

And while we are on the topic of diapers and children….

Observation #4 There is a woman who frequents the pool about the same time that we do every day.  She is an attractive woman, with a young boy about 12 maybe a little older, it’s hard to tell with little boys sometimes.  She seems like a hip, together mom who probably works out and dresses really nice…of teenagers.  However, she also seems to have a very young baby.  My first thought was, maybe this was a grand baby?  That made a whole lot of sense to me.  My thoughts even ran off for a bit and I thought how I hoped that I would be as hip of a grandma when my kids got older.  Much Older. But then I noticed her breastfeeding.  I am all about breastfeeding and really have no issues with it being done in public.  A kids got to eat, right.  But I can’t help but wonder if this woman isn’t engaging in public nursing merely for the purpose of letting us all know that the baby is truly hers.  The baby probably isn’t even hungry, but the oldest mother I have ever seen is constantly, I mean for 3 hours straight, feeding this baby so that we all are perfectly clear on the fact that she is roughly the age of Abraham’s wife Sarah, and has also had a miracle baby.

I also made an extreme observation that actually cause a look of terror to come over my face and for Nana to quickly ask, “What is it Kaylee!” She even did a quick head count I think to make sure that we have all of the kids and no one was in danger.  All I could reply back, in an almost hushed tone, was “Red suit behind me, electrolysis”.  Even as I write this, I cannot tell you what the person wearing that red suit actually looked like and neither can Nana, all we remember is the immense amount of hair where it really should not have been.  Or at least maybe a pair of shorts could have been worn, or even flannel pajama pants, but this was just bad.  Maybe I should have kept that to myself, but it was just awful and made a big impact on my day.  And good or bad, I like to share the  momentous events of my life with you my readers.

And one last completely random note, lemon bars are my current drug of choice.  We have been through two rounds of them here since Thursday.  If I have to constantly crave them, now you do too.

You’re welcome

The Furniture Mine, Teak Dining Tables Are My Diamonds

I have noticed something, since I haven’t been able to upload pictures for the blog, I have simply quit taking them.  My photo file for the month of June has only pictures of things that I am selling on eBay.  Not a single photo of my children or the amazing fun that we have been having this summer.  I should probably remedy that starting this week.  But I have another confession, as much as I love my big girl camera, I kinda wish tha tI had just a little point and shoot to take with me in my diaper bag.  The big girl is so big and heavy and it would just be plain stupid to lug that to the pool.  But I feel like I’m missing little things, like Lila devouring her ice cream tonight when we had ice cream for dinner.  Nothing celebrates kid number 1 having three cavities at the dentist like sweets for dinner.  But it’s really hot and ice cream seemed like more sustenance than snow cones.

Anyway, it was just an observation that makes me feel very much like kicking myself.

So back to Atlanta.

Brandon had made us reservations at the W.  This is the part of the story where I again remind y’all that I don’t get out a whole lot and also that I was married when I was a preteen and had my first child when I was barely driving.  All of that said, I had eyes as big as saucers when we pulled up to our very chic hotel that also had one of the swankiest clubs in town.  I have never been a part of the club scene, especially not in a larger metropolitan area, and it was just fascinating.  I kept reminding myself that it was okay that I was there, we were paying guests, and just because I wasn’t wearing something that allowed for part of my drahonkus to hang out or that was made out of skin-tight lycra, did not mean that I didn’t fit in.  The whole time Brandon was taking care of our room arrangements, I was sitting on my little couch watching the huge men (bouncers) peruse around the place and in my head saying, over and over, “These people all look like they’re from tv!” I really appreciated that the valet let us in on the fact that the man who just pulled up in the Lamborghini was actually borrowing it and it was only a rental, because I was beginning to really question the world around me.

The W is lovely, and I really appreciate their attention to little details.  They had clever little names for things, like instead of having the name “gym” listed on the elevator button list, it said, “sweat” and the coffee sup sleeves said, “wake up”.  They also went to great effort to make their rooms look very modern, yet eclectic chic.  They mixed fabrics and textures and even the furniture was a mix of old and new styles.  But in that great effort, I feel like they missed a few details that though they may not be nearly as glamorous or have as much panache, still have their place.  One of those details would be a shower curtain that you can move.  I found the glass wall to be very stylish and sophisticated, however, I did not enjoy having to actually climb in the shower to turn it on which also resulted in me getting wet while wearing my clothing.  There was also the option of getting completely nude and then turning the water on, but that method was equally unsuccessful as Brandon discovered that it takes a moment for the hot water to kick in.

Another detail that I sort of prefer is having towels in the actual shower portion of the bathroom.  Maybe in movies it looks sexy and glamorous, but in real life, getting out of the shower and slinking naked to find a towel is not nearly as becoming.  So W Hotel, maybe a towel rack within arms reach of the glass walled shower.  And while we are at it, I know it isn’t nearly as dapper and elegant, but an in-room coffee maker is kinda great.  Especially when the idea of spending $17 on having a pot brought up by room service just makes you want to give up your caffeine habit entirely, cold turkey.  That is no exaggeration by the way, $17 for one pot and I don’t even know if that includes cream and sugar.  Probably not because one Stonyfield yogurt, in the little plastic yogurt cup not even served in a velvet plate with gold flecks or anything was $14.

I felt ultra hip, posh and way cooler than I know I really am staying in such a place, but it also led me to feel slightly poor and ashamed at myself for my snack covered car, lack of flashy club wear, and they way I was eyeing everyone else who was waiting for their cars the next morning suspiciously because I know some of those people were more important than the rest of us.  I have no idea who they were, but some of them were a pretty big deal I am almost certain.

We ended up sleeping way later than we had expected to, thanks to the daylight canceling blackout blinds on the windows.  I guess we didn’t realize those were there in the later hour that we arrived.  We probably would have slept the day away, not having any little people demanding that we feed them their breakfast or letting us know that Lila would like to come out of the bathroom now.  That should give you an example of what types of hotel stays I am more accustomed to.  The kind where you have two queen beds in the room and you sleep in one with one child and your hubby sleeps in the other with the other child and the 3rd child, the one that doesn’t do well in a room with other people and still sleeps in a crib gets said crib or pack n play moved into the bathroom so that she will sleep without waking up to every little thing.  And you get to make your own coffee in your own room. But since we were traveling minus the kids, we were also able to get up and outta there pretty fast and arrived at our own theme park, Eight Flags over Georgia also known as Ikea, at a little before noon.

We have a plan.  We parked in the belly of the beast and walked in with a confidence that we were not going to be swayed by the creatively constructed living spaces.  We weren’t going to get overwhelmed by the plethora of home furnishings.  We had this.  We had both looked over the website numerous times and we had made a list.  We knew what we were definitely getting, what we wanted to look at and what we were just going to avoid altogether.  We were prepared…..or so we thought.  I think it took us about the 3rd little living area set up to toss the plans out the window.  Those little plastic bins hanging on the rod, what a fantastic idea for the play room!  We are always having a terrible time figuring out how to store art supplies.  This was so not in the catalogue!  Brandon, write it down! OOh and this throw blanket is only $12.00?  That’s crazy.  It went down hill from there.  Actually, it stayed on course pretty well, but there were a few major detours that were completely unexpected, like the two huge rugs that are now living at our house.  In our defense though, we have been in the rug market for about a year now so this was a good detour, a needed detour.  Just not planned…..kind of like all three of our children.

We made it down to the warehouse cavity of the great labyrinth that is Ikea, ready to load up the bookcase, outside dining table and chairs and Ronnie and Jessica’s shelving unit (see we were shopping for others, too) when I decided that I really couldn’t live without that adorable birch step stool that I have seen 17 levels ago.  It was a rookie mistake, I know I thought I was prepared with the whole preshopping plan, this wasn’t my first dance with Ikea, but I think it takes a few journeys to really conquer the beast.  Anyway, I decided that I would just go back and find either it of the number on its little tag to tell me where I could find it down here in the warehouse.   By the time I reached the area where I thought it was, I was afraid that I may have missed Reese’s birthday.   I never actually got lost, but wowzers! that place just keeps going and going.  I never did find the stepstool again and I was afraid that it was going to become like my very own version of Alice in Wonderland’s white rabbit.  The more I chased after it, the further I was going to fall into the vortex and I would never make it out.  I started to even panic when I realized that if I tripped and fell, I might go unseen and no one would notice me behind the Hemnes shelving unit and I might be left there forever to die.

Finally, I emerged out of the marketplace area and found Brandon right where I left him.  When he realized that I was empty-handed, before I could say anything he took it upon himself to go and retrieve the stool.  It was like slow-motion, calling to him not to go into the abyss.  I may have even cried just a little bit.  I did crawl onto the stack of boxed furniture that he had collected in my absence and stare off into the heavens of cardboard, dining tables and couches waiting to be put together.  This is definitely where I will come whenever my family is running from the law.  Or in the time of trouble.  You know the bible warns about the times at the end, right before JEsus returns and how we are to flee to the mountains.  I think the caverns of Ikea will work just fine.

Finally, FINALLY he came back…also without the steps tool.  Turns out in didn’t come in the orange color that I had seen it in and that was just a painting suggestion they were displaying.  Good riddance you good for nothing steps tool.  It was now time to finally check out.

And this is the part of the story where I tell you something that will at first sound extremely embarrassing.  We got our small homes worth of purchases through and I handed the lady my Discover card, already getting excited about the bonus points that we would be racking up from this.  And ever so quietly, discreetly, she leaned over and informed me that my card had been declined.  What in the world?  I know that we have a bit of a balance on there, buying a new house last summer kinda ate up a chunk, but still! I pay that bill faithfully every month and there should be plenty still available.  I wanted to ask her to try it again, but there was a line behind me and should it not work a second time, I was going to be doubly embarrassed.  So I reluctantly pulled out the bank card.  this was not what I had been dreaming of.  This was more like the nightmare version.  We won’t be living off of ramen noodles for the next month or anything and I think we can pay the bills, but still, I hadn’t intended on actually paying cash for all of this madness…..and I really wanted those bonus points!

We wheeled our collection out to the car and while Brandon loaded it into the car, I got on the phone with Discover to find out what was up.  Turns out they were suspicious of the purchases going down in Atlanta and had frozen our card.  I was incredibly appreciative of their quick fraud prevention thinking, especially since Brandon has had our card stolen 3 times this last year and its a pain to have to get new cards and all that, but also a little frustrated.  Thankfully, the card still has a plenty of room on it, but unfortunately, Ikea wouldn’t let us go back and repay for everything using a different method.  They did suggest that we could return all of our purchases and then go back through and pick them all out again.  you can’t just bring them in and return them because the actual item has to go through a restocking process.  Thanks, but no thanks Ikea.

By this time it was getting pretty late and we needed to head home.  It was too late to stop by Talladega again on the way home, but lucky for me, the interstate drives right by it.  It’s not quite as close up, but its a fabulous panoramic view and it made me excited still.  I am thinking maybe Nana, who just arrived for a visit today, might be wanting to see a famous NASCAR Speedway, too.  Like maybe tomorrow.

We had a fantastic time, getting away and doing something that made us both very happy.  And we couldn’t help noticing that through all the chaos that was Ikea, there were no squabbles.  Even though my blood sugar was in the negative and my anxiety started to get the best of me, we were fine.  We were a team even, and it made me proud.  In our 11 years of marriage, we have grown into one little unit instead of two separates.  We are still very much our own individuals, but we have a group mentality now.  We don’t need to discuss everything, but can see things through one anthers eyes.  We don’t always agree, but we get where the other is coming from.

It might not seem like much, but compared to those early days, we have come along way.  We still laugh when we tell people how we both hate our bedroom furniture.  Well, how did you come by it if you both hate it, we are frequently asked.  We were about two weeks into our marriage, both of us with different ideas about cost and style and pretty much everything and also very unwilling to compromise.  We had been in several furniture stores and were now in about hour 2 on visit 3 of one in particular, we couldn’t come up with anything for our bedroom and we were starting to get rather ugly to one another.  I think one of us said, “Well, lets just get that one over there” and pointed to the set that now lives in our bedroom. “Fine, I don’t care” yelled the other, calling their bluff.  There was no way that bedroom suite was coming home with us.  “Fine!” responded the other.  And because neither of us was going to back down, we purchased a dresser and a chest of drawers and their matching sleigh bed that both of us secretly despised.  And we keep that set around to remind us that fighting leads us nowhere.

But compromise and working together, that gets you years of happy, happy, happy and an SUV loaded with treasures that you both love paid for with cash that you may or may not have been ready to spend.

Happy Anniversary Brandon Love, I wouldn’t trade you or the road we have traveled for anything.  I pray that we always remember it’s better to walk together, and that we always take the time to take the detours, to see the things that make each other happy and excited.  Thank you for taking care of me, for growing with me and for yourself, and may the next 11 years be just as precious to us as these have.

11 Years!

What a fun weekend!  Brandon and I have been off on an exciting anniversary trip this past weekend, celebrating 11 years!  It’s crazy to me to think that if our marriage was a person, it would be starting 6th grade this fall.  Our marriage would be about to go through puberty!  I have no idea what kind of symbolic/ metaphoric meaning that might have, but it seems pretty wild to me.

We have tried to give each other the traditional gifts according to whichever anniversary we were celebrating, for example, that first year was paper so I think he gave me a gift certificate and I gave him a piece of wall art.  We have done pretty good with this tradition and even got pretty creative, for our “fruit” anniversary, Brandon received an apple iPod. Get it? An apple.  and even for our wood anniversary, we refinished our hardwood floors and bought a new wood armoire.  Things kind of taper off though as far as traditional wedding gifts after year ten and don’t really pick up again until 20, so we decided to make up our own.  So for future reference, year 11 is Ikea and Superspeedways.  Should you be giving the traditional gifts that is.

Before I go any further in this post, I would like to say a huge thank you to Adam and Neely for making this trip possible.  If it weren’t for them offering, or should I say insisting that they come to our house and keep our children, I don’t know that it would have actually happened.  So to the Thomas’s, thank you ever so much for being foster parents to our children.  They loved you and woke up asking where you were this morning.  I don’t think they could have asked for a better weekend and we appreciated so much getting some time away and knowing that everything was taken care of.  Thank you, thank you, thank you!

So the plan was to head out after church on Saturday, not to be in any rush and just arrive in Atlanta whenever we arrived.  I know to some people, they might be wondering about our getaway choice.  Why didn’t we choose something maybe a little closer?  How enjoyable can a car ride be?  But let me tell you, even if that had been all that we had planned, to get to drive for 6 hours without any interruption from little people was lovely.  We where able to chat without having to break up any fights and have full conversations.  There was no in-flight snack service where I have to unbuckle and contortion myself around to pass out treats, hoping that they actually get eat and not dropped on the floor to be ground into the upholstery.  There were no Reese side of the road potty breaks or that moment of panic when the iPad battery dies and you no longer have the in-flight entertainment.  This probably sounds like I am complaining about travel with my children, and really I am not.  Fact is, I don’t think we can go anywhere without thinking about how much one of them or all of them would like something that we see or how we miss them.  And really, passing out snacks is not something particularly taxing, and I would do it everyday all day if I had to…..but once in a while, it’s nice to just spend time alone with the person who shares those children with me.

We drove and sang and talked about people that we normally have to use code words for so that our children don’t know who we are talking about.  That sounds really bad doesn’t it?  Like we just gossiped and made fun of others…..but I’m sure that for any of you who have children or have had a conversation with one, you know that they repeat any and everything that they hear and its usually  not 100% accurate, but just close enough that it could get the adults in trouble.  Mattie is notorious for telling people what their gifts are or just restating something that I may have said as an observation that suddenly sounds very rude and judgmental. A simple comment about someones new haircut, that it really made them look pulled together and polished will be repeated back, even to the actual person as, “Mama said your new haircut really helps you because before you looked really bad,” That is clearly not what I said, but it’s too late now.  It was nice to be able to speak freely without the usual required censorship.

I had mentioned to Brandon as we started our trip that it would mean the world to me if he had planned to surprise me by taking my by Atlanta MotorSpeedway.  Between you and me, I don’t think that idea had crossed his mind at all.  But let me tell you, he did one even bigger.  As we were driving along he pointed out the sign that Talladega was only 16 miles away.  I know that very few of you that read this feel the same way about stock car racing as I do.  I also am very away that the names and number and places that I might sometimes throw out to you really don’t matter at all.  But I think most everyone in this country, especially who lives in the south portion of these fine United States, knows that Talladega is a very famous racetrack.  So because it was our special weekend and we are fly by the seat of our pants kind of people, Brandon took exit 15 and we drove around in the sticks for a bit as my excitement and anticipation grew to the point of absolute giddiness. As we were driving along, Brandon started making comments like, “where is this place? and “There’s absolutely nothing out here!” All the while I was saying, as I was perched now on my seat almost to the point of exploding out of the car, “Do you see it, there’s a clearing coming up! Don’t you see it?”

And I swear to you friends, it was like seeing the ball at Epcot Center for the very first time.  It didn’t matter that we weren’t actually going to the Disney theme park that day, but it was real and you were seeing it for yourself and WoW!  The “This is Talladega!” sign was my Spaceship Earth.  I don’t think I even waiting until the vehicle came to a full and complete stop before I exited.  unfortunately, the museum and gift shop were already closed but really, the sign and the looming grandstands were enough for me.  There may have even been a leaping around the sign and lots of cheesy grinning.  It’s probably a good thing that all this went down when there was no one else around.  I guess I need to be exposed to these things in small doses at a time because otherwise I might just lose my  mind.

I also found a shirt that I have been wanting since we visited the outlet mall in Pigeon Forge with the Murrills back in March, when we made a little detour at an outlet mall, but that doesn’t seem to matter at all compared to my ‘Dega experience.  I am wearing the shirt right now though so it wasn’t completely forgotten.

We finally arrived in Atlanta good and late, but hey, we had no children and we are still young so what do we care! And we decided on dinner at The Cheesecake Factory at 10:00 at night.  I truly enjoy the cheesecake factory and their catalogue menu, but one thing that slightly darkens my dining experience is the frequent presence of valet parking at this dining establishment.  It’s not that I don’t like other people dealing with the hassle of parking my car.  That I am fine with. I guess it’s more of the letting strangers into my car that I take issue with.  I am not afraid that they will steal something of mess anything up, it’s quite the contrary.  Instead, once I open that car door and let the outside world even take a small peak, then my secrets are exposed.  Just walking into the restaurant, we look like a hip young couple.  We are dressed stylishly and clean (the clean is a big feat) and have our hair fixed.  We give off the impression that we belong in such a civilized place.  But when that valet driver gets into our car, he sees Brandon’s old Starbucks cup filled with sunflower seed hulls, there are remnants of goldfish and Cheerios and even a bug that appears to have taken refuge under Lila’s car seat a while ago and then was crushed (we see this now that the car seat has been removed).  I’m not for sure, but I’m even pretty certain that my car has a slightly offensive odor that I have just grown immune to and I try as hard as I can to keep anyone that I am not related to by blood from actually getting inside of it.

So to have this man, this man who drives very nice, clean expensive cars that do not have children’s hairbows in the upholders and nostril prints on the windows get into my car and judge me as I know he must be doing, just kinda kills the dining experience for me just a little bit.

We have the friend zucchini and avocado egg rolls.  That would have been enough right there but hey, we were living it up.  Anniversary’s mean appetizers and an entrée around here because marriage is a big deal.  So I also got Evelyn’s Favorite Pasta and Brandon got…..well it seems that now I don’t remember.  But that Evelyn, I have no idea who she is but we are kindred spirits in the pasta department.

Our dinner than lead us to Walgreens, where I picked up some cough medicine.  Because nothing says, “This is going to be a romantic night!” like dropping your lady off at the door of a pharmacy for her to get cough syrup.

And you know, that seems like a good enough place to stop for now because this has been really long already.

Defiled

I have a whole post ready (in my head) called The Pool Report.  The kids and I spent and exceptionally long amount of time there yesterday and I took in quite a bit.  Enough to make a pretty lengthy blog post, but I don’t have time for that right now.  

I do have time really quick though to tell you what just happened to me while visiting Target to pick out an anniversary card for my hubby.  Sunday is the big 1-1! I know, that’s a pretty big deal, I think this is the year that something big is going to happen.  Actually, I am hoping for just the opposite, that this is the year that nothing big happens, that there are no houses purchased, no pregnancies or post pregnancies to deal with.  I am hoping there are no deaths or job changes, absolutely nothing to write in a Christmas card letter, that is what I am hoping year 11 brings.  Because I kinda feel like we have had enough going on to last us another 10 years without any problems and  I think it might be fun to just coast for a while.

Anyway, back to my quick story about going to Target….So I was checking out and while I was paying for my purchases, I noticed that the cashier was actually standing there reading the anniversary card that I had picked for Brandon!  I have never had the cashier even act like they noticed what I was purchasing, much less pick something up and read the details.  And this wasn’t just a friendly, “Happy Birthday Friend” card, this was an anniversary card!  It didn’t say anything inappropriate (however, even if it had, it would have been intended for my husband of 11 years, not Chanel, the stranger cashier lady who I have not had 3 babies with and put through school to become a doctor and moved to Memphis for….and also loved madly and deeply….those are important to mention as well.  I think I stood there and just looked at her, at an absolute loss for words that she had just done that.  I mean, what do you say to that?

“I really don’t like it that you read my card and now I need you to cancel that purchase because I’m gonna go back and get another one that you haven’t read.”

I think I just ended up walking out and taking one last look at her over my shoulder as I left to let her know that I found her behaviour very unsettling.

So I hope Brandon appreciates his card when he reads it Sunday, though part of me is going to feel dishonest giving it to him knowing someone else has already read it.

So just in case you work at Target or another store selling cards and you have ever wondered, yes, it is weird to read the cards that other people are buying.  And on that note, have a great weekend!

Wednesday

I love the pool in the summer.  I love the way you usually have to walk through a bathhouse/ bathroom area and there is that brief moment of not knowing what you’re about to find out in the pool area.  In most cases, the pool area is sort of blocked off from the parking area so especially if you’ve never been there before, walking through that bathhouse can be very exciting.  I love how our pool area smells like a mix of grilling, fabric softener and watermelon.  I love how it’s just loud enough that you can sing along to the radio and no one else really hears you over the sound of water slides and hollering children.

I usually really love getting to read a good summer book while the kids play their hearts out, but this year, Lila is proving that to be difficult.  So instead, I am spending a lot more time that usual watching the people around me while I continually pouring water into tiny tea cups with the little one.  Lila is fascinated with pouring at the moment, that and loading and unloading her toy bag.  It can go on for hours at a time and don’t you dare interrupt her cycle.  Everything must go in before anything can come back out.

So back to my people watching…..I am trying to figure out which of the life guards is the pool hottie.  There always is one, that one person who walks out from the break room and just the right summer song is playing as they saunter out to their post, almost as if it’s their own personal soundtrack.  That beautiful person, who even though they are sitting out in the sun all day, doesn’t seem to break a sweat and their hair still looks incredible.  The lifeguard that seems to always be watching over the busiest section of the pool because people are hoping that if their swimming skills should fail them, this is the guard that will jump in and save them.

When I worked at camp in Florida, that lifeguard was named Jeff.  Our swimming area was actually a natural spring and floating out in the middle was a little dock that you could swim too, lay out on, and always had a lifeguard perched on.  Jeff usually took that post, not necessarily because he liked it so much, but everyone else seemed to appreciate him being there so much.  He would swim out to his lookout, and the whole camp just seemed to stop and stare.  Keep in mind that this was a natural spring and it wasn’t uncommon to come up out of the water and have moss or some other natural vegetation on you somewhere, but to Jeff, that sort of thing never happened.

I’ve also been trying to pay close attention to see which of the guards have a little something for one another, because you know there are summer flings going on.  That’s half the fun of working at a pool, is the little soap opera that is going on behind the scenes.  These stories aren’t unfolding quite as easily as I would like.  I don’t know if we are getting there too late in the day or what, but so far, my life guards at the Jewish Community Center are turning out to be rather boring.

I have seen some interesting things though, not life guard related.  I watched a little girl who was just a few months older than Lila frolicking around wearing her swim diaper on the outside of her bathing suit.  I suppose this method would work, and I know that those swim diapers don’t really do much except keep the pooh in, but still……It was all I could do to not go up to the mom and just ask what that was all about, because it was starting to really fluster me.

I am also a little perplexed at why our pool grill serves falafel with a nice little salad and a side of hummus, yet they don’t have good ol’ nachos.  I suppose I should feel special and lucky that we can get such yummy treats and the grill is actually a grill, not just a snack bar.  But my people watching would be so much better if I had a side of nachos.

Another thing at the pool that has me fascinated.  There is a pregnant woman who comes daily around the same time we do.  She isn’t just pregnant, but more on the due any moment side of things.  Everyday I expect her to not show up because she’s finally having that baby, but every day so far, she will waddle in with her adorable little belly and equally adorable little girl, named Abigail.    The mom looks like she’s about 15, and in real life, would be teeny, tiny.  She still is teeny, tiny…with the exception of that huge belly attached to the front of her.  Since I already have about 12 friends who are pregnant and due this summer, I have gone ahead and added her to my list.  She has no idea, I’m sure, that she is on my pregnant friend list.  But I can imagine that they day I take the kids and she isn’t there, I will come home and report to Brandon almost as excited as when one of the people I actually have a relationship with goes into labor.  I’ve even named this pregnant lady, Hadassah, because it seems very Hebrewy and in my head she’s having a little baby boy.  I wonder if in their heads, everyone else has dubbed me the crazy lady who is trying to match up all the lifeguards, likes to sing out loud, stares longingly at the snack area and makes up stories about everyone else.  I would deserve it if they did.

In other news today, we missed piano lessons today due to Mattie locking the car keys in the house.  She almost always forgets to shut the door behind her, and wouldn’t you know it, the one time she did it locked.  Here we all were outside, Reese without shoes, and no phone or keys. Needless to say, piano was going to be out of the question, but the bigger concern was how we were going to get back in the house.  It wasn’t terribly hot outside, but we only had the diaper that Lila was wearing and breakfast had been a while ago.  This situation had the potential to go really bad really fast, so i figured I needed to come up with a plan to get us back inside.  And wouldn’t you know it, this was the morning that all the neighbors seemed to be out and of course the crazy lady that walks up and down the street all day long doesn’t carry a phone on her.  I even asked the garden guys next door, but they didn’t seem to be big on speaking english.

The next door neighbor lady finally came home and you would have thought that my kids thought she was the ice cream man.  Mattie almost beat her into their garage and with her urgency, you would have thought that we had been living out of our garage for a week.  thankfully, Ms. Reece let us right in and the kids forgot all their worries about having to spend the rest of their childhood in the front year when they caught sight of her bowl of m&ms.  I called Brandon’s cell phone, which he didn’t answer and left him a message to come home asap.  Now to call the office……but what in the world was the number?  Isn’t that sad?  I call that number everyday but I have no idea what it is because it’s programmed in my phone.  Thankfully, the Reece family actually keeps their yellow pages…unlike us.  After calling all of the numbers for the clinic and leaving messages with all of the secretaries I could that Dr. Baughman was to come straight home, we finally got ahold of him.

This is probably about the time that you are thinking to yourself, don’t you guys have a spare key?  Hasn’t this happened before?  And the answer to both of those is yes.  But the spare wasn’t where it was supposed to be and on a side note, Brandon is at Lowe’s as we speak getting keys made for our neighbors and the security man who patrols our ‘hood.

I’m sure my street is very happy that me, or more specifically I, have moved in.  From being suspected of burglarizing my own home and now this, I think I probably keep them very entertained.  I also think that Mattie was really on to something with the simple action of shutting a locked door to avoid the music lessons that she hadn’t adequately practiced for.  I wish I had thought of it years ago when I was taking piano lessons.  You’re a smart girl Mattie Belle!

The Police Respond REALLY Fast Here!

I realized that I just published something not even an hour ago.  I probably should have just added what I am about to write about here on the end of that post, but it seemed like it would be too long.  And I would hate to be too wordy in a blog post.  You know me, quick and to the point.

So as I had mentioned about last night, there was darkness all around.  After I finished my very lengthy blog entry, I decided that with the help of my trusty headlamp, I could do several of my little end of the day mom tasks.  So set off in the quiet, distraction free house doing all those little things that need to be done at the end of the day.  Fold that last pile of laundry, put everyone’s shoes away.  I even recorded a few receipts in the check book.  I hung things up, wrote a few thank you notes and paid a few bills.  All of these little things required movement.  That is an important element to this story.  I wasn’t staying in one place throughout this little black out.  I was actually moving quite purposefully about my house.  On a mission if you will.

I was about to call it a night, when I decided to clean up the kitchen a bit.  There were dishes in the sink that could be washed and so I was standing there in the dark with my headlamp on, waiting for the sink to fill with hot sudsy water when I saw a little light shining back at me.  Brandon must be home, is what I thought in my head, and so I waved great big and probably even did some silly little head bob or something to make my little light dance a bit.  And then I heard what was not Brandon call for me to come outside.  This is the part in the story when I would like to say that normally, I am terrified of all sorts of things at night.  I do not EVER get up to investigate the noise downstairs.  I play dead.  I have mastered the art of hiding and can lie very still for a very, very long time if I have to.  It also helps that I have the blood pressure of a newly dead corpse.  One of my biggest fears in life is to look out of my window and have someone looking back in at me, day or night, I think either one would terrify me.  I am also a screamer.  A very loud, shrill, wake the neighbors, once I start I can’t stop until its run its course kind of screamer.  So all of that being said, it’s really a wonder that I just calmly head lamp danced to the strange light shining in at me rather than some of the things listed above.

It’s also kind of beyond me that I just walked outside when I heard someone talking.  That seems a really stupid thing to do at 11:00 at night now that I think about it.  But I was really thinking that it was someone from MLGW, (Memphis Light Gas and Water) and they needed to ask me some question or something regarding this ridiculous power outage.  So I walked bravely, not a care in the world right out my front door and there I found my neighbors Melissa and Rob gathered in the street and one of the biggest, police officers that I had ever seen.  I think I may have even said, “You aren’t MLGW?” to him but its hard to recall for sure because as soon as I walked outside, my poor neighbor started almost shrieking, “Oh My God Kaylee is that you are you okay?  Oh I feel so stupid! Rob she’s fine, it’s just Kaylee, it’s just Kaylee.  Oh thank God! But I’m so stupid!” and I just kind of stood there for a minute, feeling a little confused and a little more embarrassed because I was still wearing the very dorky head lamp and this police officer was slightly on the hunky side and I wasn’t sure what sort of impression I was making.

It came out rather quickly that Rob and Melissa thought we were out-of-town because, A) we had been out-of-town from Friday to Sunday and they hadn’t seen any  movement at our house since then. and 2) there weren’t any lights on all evening.  They didn’t realize that the power was out because their’s wasn’t and neither was anyone else on their side of the street or the streets behind me.  So no lights or movement at our house, mixed with Ms. Barbara’s alarm that kept going off all evening long, and then my very purposefully moving headlamp going about my house like it was on a mission at 10:00 at night seemed to be the perfect makings for assuming that we were being robbed.  So my dear Melissa across the street did what any good neighbor would do, she did not send her husband over here to check on things for fear that he might get shot, but instead called the police who arrived amazingly fast.

To be completely honest, I am glad that she did not send her hubby over because I think that he would have scared me way more than the police officer did.  There probably would have been screaming and panicking and that would just be hard to live down.

Melissa came over again today to apologize for calling the police and promised up and down that she is not the type who just freely calls the police over every little thing.  And I did my best to assure her that I was actually quite happy and relieved that she had been paying attention and had thought it important enough to call.  I would much rather be embarrassed by having Memphis’s finest catch me wearing a ridiculous piece of camping equipment there be nothing going on than to have my house robbed, though I really can’t say it enough how disappointed I feel like they would be.  Unless they were robbers who loved nautical-themed things, because I just found this incredible whickery/ rattan 2 ft tall anchor that I am in love with………

Anyway, I have chuckled to myself all day at the memory of it all.  And from all of this I have learned a very, very important lesson.  In the case of a power outage be falling you and there seeming to be nothing to do, whatever you do, do not don a head lamp and wash the dishes.  This will only lead to the police being called on you.

Darkness

* This post was written last night*

It has been laundry day here and my word, my family has been having some sort of contest to see who could wear the most underwear.  I really don’t know what to make of it.  For some reason or another, I always wash the underwear all together.  It just feels right to wash like things.  You have the whites pile, the towels, the Lila pink pile, the darks, the Mattie brights and the underwear pile.  Usually its a rather small load of only about 28 items, one pair per day per person who wears underwear and lives in our house.  But this week, I have no idea what’s going on.  It’s like everyone hid their dirty ditties from the week before and are just now bringing them out.  If I didn’t know better, I’d wonder if maybe we weren’t doing someone else’s laundry, too.

And in other news here, our power is out.  I should probably be saving the battery here on the laptop, but I really don’t think we are in any sort of danger here that is going to make having a charged computer a life or death issue.  I figure, it’s really all I have to do, so I may as well blog away until the battery runs out.  The power went out right as I was in the middle of dinner.  They dishwasher was right in the middle of a cycle and the washer and dryer were doing their thing, as well.  I had just got my rice going on the stove and out went the power.  It didn’t really bother any of us for the first hour, except the kids were fully expecting dinner to be served and that plan went out with the power.  Thankfully, our favorite pizza guy Daddy, showed up before we had to resort to eating the dog or cereal. Our power was out, but it looked like it was still working across the street and even down the road a bit, so we decided that we would just eat and then head out for a late night at the pool.  The kids had napped late, were fed and there really wasn’t much else to do.  We gathered up bathing suits (and pajamas and shampoo because I figured I may as well shower them and get them ready for bed while we were somewhere with hot water) and pool toys and found our towels, all in the dark and were all set to spend the evening at the JCC.  And then the rain started up again.

So instead, we just sat outside on the porch and watched the lightning bugs until the rain started to get rather heavy and Mattie was convinced that we were completely unsafe and we better go back inside right away before we surely died. It was fun while it lasted though.

We did our best to get jammied and brush teeth, clear pathways from the door to the kid’s beds so that in the event of an emergency no one would be harmed while trying to escape from the room and then I read our worship stories by the light of a headlamp.  There really is something about a very congested mom reading by the light of a headlamp that will stay with you forever.  I imagine this being one of those nights that the two older ones talk about and laugh about, mostly at my expense 20 or even 10 years from now.  Slowly the memory will come back to them and they more it comes, the more ridiculous it will become.

“Do you remember that summer night when our power went out for now real reason?”

“Yeah, and we were having worship on the couch and mom was wearing that ridiculous head lamp, like she was a miner or something.”

“And do you also remember that she was really congested and her words sounded all funny? She looked and sounded ridiculous.”

Then they will recreate the whole thing.  I hope they remember the tiny tidbits like how Mattie was also feeling all around in my ears because I kept telling her how my congestion made it hard for me to hear very well so she was determined to help me out.

They are all asleep up in their beds nows, and I’m really not sure what to do with myself in a quiet house that refuses to let me do laundry, or any other sort of cleaning task. So, I will type….

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Last week I noticed a few garage sales while driving around during the kids VBS.  I love a good garage sale, if for no other reason just to get out and look.  I am a very nosey person, a very curious person I should say, so just looking can be entertainment enough for me.  It’s always fun to see what people are getting rid of and how much they are asking for it.  You never really know what you might find at a garage sale.  If you have even a minute of free time, it really can be worth it to stop and check one out.  Especially if it’s in a nice part of town.

But to these garage sales, I would like to air a complaint.  Not that it will ever be heard here on my little blog, but it makes me feel like I am saying it publicly and that’s good enough.  So here goes, my complaint to everyone in the East Memphis area who was having a garage sale that I stopped at this past Friday:

I do not appreciate it when you don’t put ANY sort of pricing on your items.  None what so ever.  I understand that tagging and pricing every little item can be tedious and sometimes useless because the stickers can come off and so often people haggle over the price anyway.  But nevertheless, having some sort of a starting point to understanding your pricing is good.  Even if I don’t agree with you, I like to at least know from the get go what your thinking.  If you don’t want to tag every little thing, maybe a sign on a table grouping items together would be an idea.  Like a $5 table or all the pants $1.00.  Just an idea, something to let me know what your price points are.  But I am not a fan of these sales where nothing is tagged and every little thing, you have to go up and interrupt the conversation that is going on between the garage sale bosses, just to ask about something that you really aren’t very interested in anyways.

I think you all know me well enough to know that I like a good deal, and I already understand that if something is being sold at a garage sale it’s probably significantly cheaper than it would be if I were purchasing it at say, Target.  However, even though it may be significantly cheaper, there are some things that I still wouldn’t want to buy unless they were ridiculously cheaper.  Like practically free.  Especially considering that I am buying it out of your garage.  I feel like anything purchased out of someone else’s garage immediately goes down in value.  There was one sale that I stopped at that had several pairs of little boys jeans for sale.  Reese doesn’t necessarily need any jeans and these weren’t really the style that I typically buy for him, however, I know of a family that could use these jeans and if they were regular garage sales prices of say 50 cents, I would have taken all of them.  But the thought of having to go over and interrupt the very important conversation going on about the new choice of buns that they neighborhood pool was serving with their hot dogs this summer just to (possibly) be told that they were $5 and me then feel so incredibly cheap and put them back and walk away, well I just couldn’t handle that.  So instead I just walked away completely.  I do not need to be made to feel even more cheap than I already do for stopping to look at your cast-offs.

So to those of you looking to have a garage sale this weekend, please remember to at least put some sort of pricing up somewhere so that people don’t have to ask about every little thing.  I know some people enjoy a good haggle, but they at least need a starting point.  And some of us are just down right embarrassed to ask. Thank you.

And while I am on the subject about the people living around me, I have noticed something else that just seems down right ridiculous.  The fitness craze has hit again and I understand that.  It is summer time after all and people want to look good in their sleeveless and shorts.  That and it’s not freezing outside so they don’t have to use the elliptical machines and treadmills.  I completely understand and on the rare occasion that I feel like getting my fitness on, I prefer it to be outside.  Totally makes sense. But what doesn’t make any sort of sense is the folks doing their workouts in the middle of the day.  The heat has hit Memphis already.  The other day it was 98 degrees outside before 10:00 in the morning and with the humidity it felt like somewhere around 125.  I don’t even want to be outside for the walk from my car into my house (and that’s in the garage) yet, here is my next door neighbor girl coming out to go for her daily jog at 1:30 in the afternoon.  It’s the hottest possible time in the day, even the grass is trying to figure out a way to crawl back into the ground to escape the heat and she is coming out for a jog.  I don’t understand why someone would do that to themselves.  The man across the street was out mowing while I was putting the kids to bed because it’s just too darn hot to be out in the middle of the day.  But here she is, as though on a death march, to run around the neighborhood.  I don’t know if there’s a cute boy who lives a few houses down that she is hoping to catch the eye of or what.  But instead of thinking she too is a cutie, he’s going to think she’s an idiot to go running when it’s hot like fire outside.  And just imagine what he’s going to think when she passes out from heat stroke in his front yard.  I’m not sure that’s the impression she really wants to leave him with…just a thought.

And on a completely random note, Lila has a new word.  I am about 97% sure that she said “Batman” the other day.  She was pointing to something and I asked her what she wanted it.  “At ma” she said and I followed her little finger to the batman figure sitting on the counter.  I guess we have all the important bases covered now, “Lila, mama, eat, yes, and Batman”.  I don’t know why you would need to say anything else.

 

Why You Can’t Invite Us To Weddings

I can see that from the stats page here on WordPress, when I don’t keep up the blog for a week, my readers lose interest.  That’s a good  little fact to know, so I will do my best not to let that happen again.

I will do my best to keep things up a little better this week.  We have one less child and no mega church bible school on the agenda so things ought to be a little less crazy.  But before I get in to some of the funny stories of last week, I feel like I should go back even further to last weekend.  Last weekend was the first wedding I have been to in what seems like 10 years.  Once upon a time, there were about 3 years where it was just wedding after wedding.  Showers to attend and bridesmaids dresses to purchase.  And Brandon got pretty good at paintball, disc golf and playing cards due to all the bachelor parties he was attending.  But then, I guess we got everyone all married off and things have been pretty quiet wedding wise for a while.

So we were pretty excited for this little wedding.  It was for our dear friend Chuck and his lovely fiancée English out in Chattanooga.  The best part about this wedding was that we would be able to see several friends, enjoy a fun wedding, but neither of us would be in it, which we have learned is pretty nice.  We have loved the roles that we have played in the weddings of our dear ones, but sometimes its just nice to sit back and enjoy yourself.  And enjoy ourselves we did.

We have left Mattie back here in Memphis to stay with friends, and just took the younger two kiddos with us.  We love our children and we are pretty sure they love each other, they just don’t always love each other at the same time and often, it seems that their love for fighting outweighs their love of getting along.  Also, we had another dear friend (you may recall Shelley from previous blog posts, whom Reese fell madly in love with and I have known since she was a young preteen), who said she would be more than happy to watch my littles.  We wanted her to watch kids, not referee so it only made since to split them up.  And I have to say, it worked great.  I think we might start taking all of our vacations with only 2 children at a time.  It might not work well for family pictures, and there could be some hurt feelings and possibly therapy sessions later, but I think we really might be on to something.

We had a lovely time visiting the Chattanooga Farmer’s Market, complete with fresh made tiny donuts and a Batman face painting session for Reese.  There were tons of beautiful fresh produce, but we really didn’t have space to bring home bushels of fresh kale and peaches.  So donuts and face paint seemed the best options.  This would have been the perfect time to put in a picture of Reese with his batman face, but alas, the whole picture thing is still not functioning for me.

After our Farmers Market visit, we rushed back to gather up the necessities (extra diapers, jammies, lovies and a wooden Noah’s Ark that would later prove deadly) then deliver the kiddos to Shelley’s house for an evening of fun.  I was super excited to find Shelley’s parents and all her sisters at home too.  I think I also mentioned before that the whole Robertson crew is like family to me, and unfortunately, there seems to be fewer and fewer reasons for us to see one another.  For awhile, there were plenty of graduations and weddings and the girls went to school in Arkansas, but now we just rely on these little fluke visits.  I probably could have stayed there all evening visiting with my adopted family….I am the honorary 4th Robertson sister……..but we had a fun barn wedding to attend so off we went.

The day had been stormy and wet, not the ideal situation for an outside wedding.  But about 20 minutes before the ceremony was to begin, the sun broke through and cleared things up just long enough for Chuckles and English to say their “I dos”.  It was a precious ceremony, but I have to be honest here, watching English walk out with her daddy just about made me to an ugly cry.  I always like to watch the groom at a wedding, to see his reaction when he first catches a glimpse at his bride.  It’s usually a pretty sweet mix of emotions and not something you get to see every day, so being someone who is all sensitive like me, that sort of thing is right up my alley.  But this time, my eyes first went to English and her dad and that’s where they stayed after seeing the emotion all over their faces.  It was obvious that there had been a few tears shed just moments before and as they stood at the back of the aisle, preparing for her big walk down, English took a tighter hold of her dad’s arm and you saw her clearly mouth the words, “NOT YET.” And for just a few seconds they stood there while English took a minute to lean on dad just a little bit longer, to take a deep breath and then say back, “OK”.  I know there was no apprehension at all in this prospect of marrying her Chuckles, sometimes it just takes a minute to wrap you head around what’s actually happening.  And having been there before, for just a second, you feel like you just need a minute to live in this life for just a moment more.  You just need time to stop for only a blink, to make sure that you have stored up all the memories you will need for the rest of your life, as you go from being a daughter to a wife.  (It’s not until later that you realize that those roles can be played at the same time, and don’t really have to change that much…at least for the daughter.)

But this time, while watching all this happen, instead of thinking back to Brandon and I’s wedding and getting a little misty about all that, my mind went to a completely different place and friends, it was way worse! It went to my Mattie and seeing Brandon walk her down the aisle and I thought I was just going to melt into that soggy grass and have a big ugly cry.  Thankfully, my  mind quickly have my heart a shot of reality that our Mattie is only 8 and probably won’t be running off to get married in the next summer or two.  Also, I am pretty positive that we will be well aware of the upcoming event and have plenty of time to adjust…or at least process.  That all being said, please do not look over at me during the walk down the aisle of any of my 3 children should you also be at the wedding.  I will be very happy for them, no doubt about that, but there will be tears.

After the ceremony, we gathered in a fabulous barn to celebrate.  And this is where a funny little thing happened.  You never know who you are going to see at a wedding, who grew up with who or is related.  Turns out that one of our dear friend Chuck’s old friends from childhood is the same police officer that way back in our college days, gave Brandon a ticket that later led to his arrest.  That’s a fun little story that we hadn’t even thought about in quite a while.  Nothing like having to leave your religion class early because your boyfriend has been arrested and needs bailed out of jail.  Paul, the officer, made a big deal about apologizing to Brandon for the arrest and how it could have possibly led to us not getting married seeing as how I had to ask my dad to put some extra money in my bank account to cover Brandon’s bail and dads don’t really look at boys their daughter has to bail out of jail as good candidates for future husbands.  It also turns out that he is now working as a police officer in Charlotte, N.C. and he and I spent a good 45 minutes to an hour talking about the glory of NASCAR.  You just never know who you might bump into at a wedding.

Funny, with all the excitement of the rainy wedding day, white people dancing to hip hop and a mashed potato bar, you would have thought our day would have been complete and the most eventful moments behind us.  I was sadly mistaken.

We arrived at Shelley’s to fetch the kids, they had done great and were actually rather sad to leave.  Brandon gathered up most of the gear and it was up to me, to follow up with the Lila and her wooden ark.  This is the part of the story where it is important to mention that Shelley lives in a split level house with two flights of stairs and I was wearing rather tall heels.  As a bit of a joke, Shelley walked me down the first flight of stairs from the living room to the entry way.  I made the little journey just fine and we then made a few little jokes about my falling down the stairs.  I wish I could say the next flight went as smoothly.

Once safely out of the house, I had about 6 steps to take to get out to the driveway and again, Shelley sort of hovered around me to keep me safe.  It may have worked better if she had just carried me, or at least the ark that I was carrying.  At around step 3, Lila knocked the top of the ark off and it tumbled to the ground.  I knew that if I stepped on it, the top would break because it was made of wood and so I was trying to be extra careful as I stepped (in the dark on wet concrete steps) not avoid the wooden ark top.  In doing so, I also avoided the next step entirely and began a slow, yet terrifying tumble down the remaining steps.  I tried my hardest to keep Lila’s head from hitting either the hand rail or the ground and in doing so, managed to bang myself up pretty good.  I;m not sure if I actually said it our loud, but I was definitely thinking, “This is really happening.  I’m going down. Man down! Man down!”

Nothing appeared to be broken except my pride, though I still have some pretty intense battle scars here a week later.  I thought my left knee took the brunt of the fall, and spent a good deal of time and energy nurturing it.  But by the looks on some people’s faces this past week when I have worn short sleeves, the gnarly yellow and green, purple and blue bruise on the inside of my arm may have been a little worse.  It slightly resembles fingers on the inside of my arm and I think here for the past few days, people have started to think some bad thoughts about how Brandon treats me.  No worries friends, he was inside the car watching the whole thing happen and had absolutely nothing to do with my accident.

I’m so thankful that the accident happened during the picking up as opposed to the dropping off.  Nothing puts a damper on wedding celebrations quite like the couple who appears to be beating one another.

I had several other fun little things to share, but this has been an entirely too long post already.  Happy Monday all!

The Amazing Race

Whew!  That’s all that I have to say regarding my last 48 hours.  And now that I have sparked your interest, you are probably wondering just what I have been doing that has been so taxing for the last 2 days.  And I am about to tell you, but let me first say that if you yourself haven’t actually done these tasks that I am about to describe, you have no room to judge.

First task, I picked up my 8-year-old Monday night after she had spent about 24 hours at a friend’s house.  More on why she was there in a minute……Anyway, if you have ever gone to pick up a child after a playdate that they weren’t ready to leave from, then you have a glimmer of what this was like.  I knew this was going to be bad and potentially loud and ugly, which is why I went about it solo rather than stopping on our way home with the whole family.  There seems to be a point, when staying with someone else, that the human child either decides that they miss their own family terribly and must leave immediately or that they will be joining the new family and want nothing to do with the old pack.  My child chose the latter of those options and when I arrived to pick her up, she immediately went to hide while the friend she was staying with hunkered down in the corner and started to cry.  Let me tell you, nothing warms a mother’s heart like having their first-born child, whom they have missed terribly, run from them upon arrival.

There were hardly two words spoken on the way home, which gave me plenty of time to reflect on my own childhood and that blah yucky feeling that I remember all too well when it was time to go home.  My mom called it “The Sundays” and it was sort of a special case of the blues that seemed to come in like a cloud when something fun and long looked forward to had finally come and gone.  I hated the Sundays.  And by the looks of the angry little troll that was sitting in the back seat, she wasn’t a huge fan of them either.

At least she didn’t throw a big fit when I made her leave.  My dear friend Stephanie used to do that when it was time to leave my house.  I am sharing that little tidbit not to embarrass her, but because it seems like a sign of a true, honest friend….something that  should be printed on a Hallmark card.  “You’re the kind of friend that I would kick and scream about when it was time to go home.” Should I ever question our relationship, I will look back on the tantrums in my driveway and know without any doubts that we are forever friends.

Then a few short hours later, I jumped right into Vacation Bible School. Again, to those of you who have regular jobs, deadlines to meet, patients to see, classes to teach and meetings to attend…this might not seem like a big deal at all.  Vacation Bible School, the name alone pretty much sounds like unicorns and ice cream cones topped with glitter.  To all of you who have regular jobs to tend to, imagine doing those jobs while being accompanied by little children.  Trying to get anywhere with my 3 children takes about an extra 3 days.  I have seriously considered dressing Mattie for school and just having her sleep in the car before.

So the plan was to leave our house by 8:15 to get across town to pick up friend Landon from his mama’s office and get the kids to VBS by 9:00.  Let me also take a minute to say that this is not just any run-of-the-mill VBS, either.  This is Bellevue Baptist which is the mother of all Mega Churches.  Last year they had 12 prekindergarten classes with 22 in each class and on the last day when they announced how much the kids had brought in offering all week (they were having a contest between the boys and the girls to see who could bring the most to help build a playground in some 3rd world country) it was over $20,000.000.  I don’t mean to be sacrilegious at all here, but if there were ever a Six Flags over Jesus built, I think Bellevue would be it.  The place is gigantic and there are tons of other mama’s there with their game faces on, trying their best to get their kiddos delivered to the right rooms in the maze of bible-themed muraled walls where all the classrooms are decorated like castle fronts.  It didn’t make things any easier that Mattie is in an entirely different section than the boys were.  It was like a challenge on The Amazing Race, only I didn’t have a partner.  “While carrying a squirming baby, you must deliver 3 children to two separate classrooms in a maze of classrooms all decorated the same yet slightly different with 2,000 other moms.

It was right after I delivered the children and was considering flopping on one of the plush couches in the grand entry hall that I remembered that in all our rush to get out the door, the Lila hadn’t been fed yet.  I hadn’t planned to go on home because there just didn’t seem to be enough time to go all the way back home and be productive, before I would have to turn right back around.  So instead I just went to Target (where I had two returns anyway) and bought her a yogurt that she happily ate while sitting on a table in  the little Starbucks.

I made it to the bank, the cleaners, Target, fed the girl and even out to Janie and Jack, which is having its big summer sale by the way should that sort of things be of interest to any of you readers and back with even a little time to spare.  And I even had a plan for lunch.  I was feeling pretty on top of things…..until the strange dog came running into my house.

While I was inside getting lunch plated, the big kids were outside playing their version of basketball when all of a sudden they just started shrieking.  It wasn’t scared,we are in danger shrieking but more excited shrieking.  And then the door burst open and in flew 3 kids and a dog I have never seen before in my life.  This is the part of the day that really felt like an episode of the Brady Bunch.  My house kind of goes in a circle and those kids and that silly stranger dog did about 4 loops before the finally got him out.  I have no idea where that animal came from, just that he had been jogging along side our neighbor (she didn’t know him either) and when she got home, he caught sight of the kids and came on over.  Thankfully, our own dog was outside in the backyard and didn’t seem aware of what was going on.  It was one of those weird events that happens and it takes you a good 5 minutes to figure out what just happened and then even after you process that, you still feel really confused by how it happened.

After our eventful lunch, the girls took naps and the boys flanked my on the couch and we watched nature shows.  I would start to drift off and was each time poked awake by a little voice saying,”Auntie Kaylee, you’re missing it!” Thank you sweet boy, I would so hate to miss finding out just how high the African Poison Dart Frog can jump in a single bound.

And after naps, well the pool of course.  Again, I know that when I say I spent the afternoon at the pool, immediately you get thoughts of cool, refreshing water, warm sun and fruity drinks with umbrellas in them.  I live a very luxurious life don’t I? Well, before those thoughts carry you off, keep in mind that I was not at the pool alone and none of my fellow pool goers had come alone either.  This was a work trip for all of us.  We were armed with coolers full of drinks, snacks, sunscreen and toys appropriate for ages 1-8.  I got everyone adequately sun screened, made sure no one was still wearing their shoes (that has happened before, socks too) and that they understood that running was punishable by death.  Then they were off.

I was sitting in the beach-type entrance to the kiddie pool, feeling quite relaxed and sort of giving myself a mental pat on the back for having done a pretty great job with my day of 4 kids.  They were happily playing at the pool, Lila was amusing herself with her tea set and pouring pretend tea all over my legs and I was just basking…….until I realized that somehow putting a swim diaper on Lila had been neglected.  Technically, Mattie was the one to dress her in her swimsuit, but really, to put that blame on the  year old is a little wrong.  I panicked there for a bit, wondering to myself if we were going to get kicked out for inappropriate pooh protection.  I decided though that if I just acted like everything was as it should be, then hopefully everyone else would go alone with it.  I mean, who knows, maybe Lila is potty trained already?  I don’t know who would buy that because as it is, no one really thinks she’s a year old  yet.  I just said a little prayer that she wouldn’t do anything we would later regret.  She’s a good egg that Lila and seemed to understand that she needed to play it cool and not draw attention to herself.  I really felt like we were in sync when she went ahead and sat down in the water making it ever harder for any observer to notice that there wasn’t any sort of diaper bulk.  Good Girl Lila!

So far, I have run the VBS race again today with all of my children.  They are fed and all 4 of them are sound asleep in different locations all over the house.  We have plans for the pool, I even had two diapers ready, one in the swim bag just in case I forget here at home.  But I have absolutely no intentions of waking them up to go.  Sleep babies sleep…..because mama’s tired, too.

Mattie the Old Woman

Just so you know, I am still wearing my Spanx swim suit.  Not really, that is a slight exaggeration, but for a while there last night I thought it could very well be part of my outfit for church this week.  I decided to wait until after Brandon got home to attempt to remove it from my body.  Before you start getting ideas that I was trying to be all saucey and what not for my husband, it was more for safety reasons.  I was a little afraid that I might get stuck midway through the process and then be unable to free myself.  I didn’t want the kids to either wake up to me suffocating from my deadly swimsuit or for me to be so compromised in such a way that should the house catch on fire or a that cable guy come back to vandalize us, me not be able to do anything to protect my family.

So I waited….

Cute suit he said when he finally walked through the door at midnight.  I don’t think he was thinking those say things when it finally came suit removal time.  The whole experience was more like me trying to escape from a the clutches of an octopus without making a sound.  I was trying to be oh so quiet, seeing as it was midnight and the kids were sleeping, but I think that only added to the humor of it all.

I still say it’s worth every penny though.  To feel like a Carol Brady at the pool….and let me say, I even felt like it made me a better mom, too.  I made the kids special pool treats last night complete with their very own little cup of ranch dip.  And nothing says with it, cool calm and collected, best mom ever like special pool treats.  Well, that’s just something that way outweighs your fear of possibly dying in your bathing suit.

So on to today.  My day started with a text from Brandon saying that the house with the cool front steps was having a garage sale.  That probably doesn’t seem nearly worth the time it took to type to most of you, but its huge news around here.  People don’t believe in garage sales here in Kirby Woods.  If they no longer want something, it’s the fun thing to set it out by the curb and then see how fast it gets taken.  People leave all sorts of things by the curb, and then you see them in their windows watching to see how long it last and who takes it.  Either that, or they prefer to donate things to charities and have them picked up from their houses.  So to hear that there was a garage sale in the ‘hood?  Oh I was all over that idea.  I got the kids around as fast as I could and I will admit, I even took the time to shower and fix my hair,  because I had no idea what sort of situation I might be walking into and I better be prepared.

We set off with the money tin (my little Peter Rabbit Tea tin that has held my stash of cash for 20 years or so now) prepared for an adventure.  And I’m gonna stop right here and say that I passed a little judgement when we arrived at the foot of the driveway.  I may have even felt a little bit irritated and slightly cross when I realized that it was a VERY elderly woman whose children were putting on the sale.  My hopes of it being a family with young kids, preferably in my kids sizes and also hoping upon all hopes that they had a pair of barely used size 2 Sea Wees navy blue sandals for sale kind of crumbled down around me.  By the looks of things, this elderly woman had neither been placing her unwanted items out on the curb or donating them to the pick-up charities.  There were clothes in boxes that very easily could have been in those boxes since I was a baby and be getting fresh air for the very first time in 33 years.  But she also had some neat things, vintagey games and puzzles.  A Hi-Ho Cherrio game that was probably even older than me and then I saw them, it was a coloring book of paper dolls from around the world.  There were only 8 dolls to be colored and some of them had already been started, but who ever colored them had done a good job.  There wasn’t a little Russian girl in the mix, but there was a little girl from Poland and she looked close enough.  I thought that this might be precious in Lila’s little Russian inspired, meets wall of gold birds room.  So far our find was at least worth the energy to walk down the street.

Then we found the sets of paper party plates from somewhere around my mother’s youth and we just had to get all 4 of those.  They were still in their original plastic and were priced at 35 cents from Mills Five and Dime.  I have no idea where Mills Five and Dime was and if $0.35 was expensive or not for the time, but they were precious and needed to come with us, too.  And then we found the books.  I’m a sucker for old children’s books with sweet pictures.  I have been tempted several times to tear out the pages of some of our books and frame the illustrations but I can’t quite bring myself to tear up a perfectly good book.  There weren’t a ton but we found some good ones, and an original printing of the Little Golden Book The Shaggy Baggy Lion seemed like a treasure in itself.  We topped the pile off with a never been opened Jenga game and a wooden ark complete with a Noah, 2 elephants, 2 giraffes, 2 bears and 2 sheep.  All of these treasures I would have only found in an elderly lady’s house…exept maybe the Jenga game.  So I would like to take back all my negative thoughts from the foot of the driveway.  I do wish there had been a pair of sandals in the mix though….I’m not gonna lie.

After that, we headed to town for a quick little errand.  A little back info regarding this errand to help it make more sense.  Wednesday night, Mattie had a sleep over with her Aunt Shannie.  I’m not sure if Shannon felt that I needed the break, was lonely at home because Chris is out-of-town for a month, or just genuinely wanted to companionship of an 8-year-old girl.  She claims it was the later, and you know, no matter what her reasons were I was happy to oblige her.  Anyway, as part of their evening of auntie/ niece fun Shannon had planned to take Mattie to the yarn store and let her pick out her own supplies and teach her to knit.  Mattie is an artsy minded little girl and also has a special place in her heart for all things old-fashioned, so I imagined that this was going to be right up her alley.  Apparently, Mattie took to it like a fish to water.  So much so that when I asked her if she had cuddled with Aunt Shannie that night her answer back to me was that she had slept in the other room because its much easier to “snook” (her word not mine) out of bed when there isn’t someone else in there with you.  I asked why she needed to “snook” out of bed and she said that she just wanted to stay up and do her knitting.  I think she felt just like Laura Ingalls sitting beside a little lantern doing her knitting.  the only thing that would have made it better would have been if she had a little night-cap to wear.  Anyway, she came home in love with knitting on Thursday, but by around 2, her love seemed to have turned to a broken heart because she had messed up with her stitches and couldn’t seem to get her rhythm back and Shannie had to work until 8 and what was she going to do!

And that brings us to today’s errand.  I needed to run to the grocery store and she needed to expert advice that only the grandmotherly hens at Yarniverse could give.  I have mentioned before that I am not a fan of new things and places where I don’t feel that I belong.  I did not feel like I had any business being at the yarn store where these woman were creating these INCREDIBLE pieces while sitting in comfy chairs and chatting away about nothing.  I was very out of my element.  So I just walked in and sort of thrust Mattie and her little knitting basket out in the middle of them and said we were having some problems and this was the only way I knew to help.

And then Mattie turned into a 70-year-old woman, took a seat next to a complete stranger and let the pro undo her messed up stitches and listened intently as her new friends told her how to get better.  They asked how old she was and where she went to school.  They asked what we were up to today and when she told them that I needed to go to the grocery store, the needles stopped the clicking and 6 sets of eyes looked up and me and said, “You can go and leave her here with us.  She’ll be fine.”  The sixth set was that of Mattie herself and I think she was pleading with those eyes way stronger than she has ever begged for anything else.

And so I left.

I left my kid there in a strange place with a bunch of strange women without any sorts of instructions or safety measures.

I didn’t really feel like she was in any kind of danger.  These woman clearly didn’t appear to be the violent type and the shop didn’t exactly seem like a hot spot to be burglarized or anything.  And she was happy and learning and I was just going to be across the street and that girl knows my phone number faster than I can repeat it.  I decided that she was fine and I needed to make the most of these free baby sitters who were also teaching her something useful and lovely.

When the other two and I returned to pick her up, she was happy as a little clam, a knitting clam who had made huge strides in her work since I left her 45 minutes earlier.  And the ladies seemed to have loved being her too.  I was told to bring her back any time and that she could stay as long as she liked.  I was tempted to ask if they were there late on Sunday nights so that maybe Brandon and I could have a little date night, but figured that would be asking too much.  I did however, send the kids outside and told the ladies how much I am sure this meant to Mattie.  She was supposed to go away to Camp Mumsey for about a week this summer and they were going to do things like have tea in the morning in the good china and bake bread and learn to sew.  All those things that having a little brother and sister around makes difficult to do, but every little girl should get to do with her Grandma.  But some things came up.    Some things that I have until now not mentioned here on my blog for personal reasons, things like cancer.  Our summer plans have changed, they have been put on hold until next year.  I don’t want to say that they are cancelled because that would imply that they aren’t going to happen.  But I have taken the attitude that we are going to fight this battle and prevail and next year will find us having our summer vacation at the beach with Mumsey and Poppy and tea and sewing for a week.

And then I started to cry.

Right there surrounded by woman twice my age who were complete strangers.  I cried because I am scared and I cried because I am sad and I cried because there is something that makes your heart ache just a little when you see a naive little child completely unaware of what’s going and you are afraid that the day might come…any day when you have to shatter their perfect little world.  I am hoping that day doesn’t end up coming and Mattie, Reese and Lila can go on for years and years never knowing the real reasons for our summer of changed plans.

But mostly I think I cried because in a way it made me happy that unbeknownst to them, these grandma’s had filled up Mattie’s Grandma Cup for at least a little while and they had held the door open wide for her to return whenever she needed a second helping.

Mattie has big plans to return to Yarniverse next week and I am hoping that by Christmas, she can easily make all of us matching sweaters.

Happy Weekend Everyone!