Forgive me for sounding like one of those little quotes in Reader’s Digest from Martha in Podunk, Kentucky…but…
The ENTIRE family (and when I say ENTIRE I mean..ALL of us PLUS the inlaws) made our way down the bread aisle at our local market. There were two other women staring at the selection of whole wheat and white when out of the blue my daughter yells…wait for it…
I TOOOOOTED!
Of course the Kaiser and I burst into laughter and shake our heads. Because what the hell else do you do?
Sometimes Karen and I get a little goofy. When we do…this is what happens.(get to the comments to understand what I’m talking about)
The blog girls are throwing a virtual baby shower today. Get yer buns over there.
Its nothing but sick kids and 110 degrees here. So move along.
I’ve been accused of blogging (or playing on second life) too much, while my children light mattresses on fire.
I’ve been accused of NOT paying attention while they say three MILLION TIMES “Mommy watch me! Mommy watch me! Mommy watch MEEEEEEE!!!!”
While I will not indulge you with the details of how I may not exactly qualify for the mother-of-the-year in 2007, I will tell you I had TWO eyes on them and engaged when both of my children did exactly what I told them to and stopped playing in the sprinklers.
Of course I assumed, as I saw the backs of their heads move up and down, that they were playing with sidewalk chalk on my patio…but they were giggling and laughing out loud and seemingly doing what I asked…NOT getting wet in the sprinklers.
When I stopped watching out the kitchen window and stepped outside to see their works of art on the concrete, I was a little…um…well…you tell me…
So I may or may not have just taught my son how to throw soft objects into the blades of a moving ceiling fan.
I got a very stern look from the Kaiser. This is the man who taught the boy to say “smell the love” after a fart…and he’s giving me a stern look.
Projectile stuffed animals and soft balls are so much more acceptable than “smell the love.”
Last year I lamented how my lame holiday card never seems to measure up.
This year, I’m happy to announce we scrubbed the cheetos off the kids, pinned them down to strap on the fine duds, licked their hair into place, and then, apparently, told them Santa was DEAD…
…
Just kidding. We told them Elmo was dead.
Actually, this is from a family photo shoot we took in the wilds of West Virginia. There are others, but you’ll have to pry them from my cold, dead, hands as they include some rather unflattering photos of the Kaiser looking seemingly towards heaven while I puff my cheeks and wrinkle my shirt to see how fat and white I can look.
Our REAL holiday card is so heartmeltingly adorable I can’t show it to you for fear you will implode from the fuzzy pink bunny feelings bursting from your heart.
We’re getting by. Even if it means creating a large mess in the kitchen. Keep the virtual hugs coming. Please.
See for yourself. *and be sure to stick around to at least :10 in when the Kaiser gets his groove on.
Recent Comments