We have fun wherever we go

Well I am completely exhausted. We got back yesterday from Callaway Gardens, so much fun. We spent the first few hours on bikes. This was a major feat for me because my husband is not one for non-motorized activity.



He knocked me off the road a dozen times. He couldn't help it, though. Have you ever been in a tight area with a woman with a really big butt? That's kind of what it was like. Since it's in the back she kind of forgets that she has this massive rear because the rest of her is small in proportion, you know, to the butt. Then in one fell swoop she makes a sudden turn and wham! Your a goner. She takes you out. That's how the bike was.

The next day was golf, though, so that made up for him having to do physical activity. Now I'm not one to nitpick, but we had the bikes for two hours. Golf took four. Like I said, I'm not one to nitpick, but I'm just saying.



Thank goodness we had this super nice room.



Yeah, you're right. It does look like that sketchy motel on the side of the road that's always getting busted for meth labs and hookers. Surprisingly, it's not at all what it looked like online. They must have just made a mistake, bless their hearts. I'll just walk down the sidewalk and ask the two guys that have been sitting outside their door in camping chairs drinking beer all day. I bet they can clear things up.

Here's what they meant by "garden view":



Wait. I'm not being fair.



Look! There! To the left! It's a bush! Bushes are parts of gardens.

Just FYI, "garden view" was the best view they offered.

They did have a playground. Just because it happened to be a conglomeration of antique, rusty dangerousness does not make it less of a playground. I would love to have a picture, but we were laughing so hard, I couldn't get one. Seriously, I am laughing right now.


(This is a pretty good likeness)

Schyler tried about ten different positions on the slide, all to no avail. It was unslidable. At one point Brandon had to reach out and grab her feet to keep them from flipping over her head because the metal slide was about straight up and down. She was giving the ol' head first a try, but still didn't work. Just made her feet flop over. Nothing but the sound of bare skin screeching against good hot metal.

Another good one was something that resembled a yoga position. She was in a perfect "V" shape with her hands and feet straight up in the air. That was an attempt to not have any exposed skin touching, only the nicely covered and adequately protected rump. It was a no go.

Brandon made such a deep observation, "Sometimes it's not about where you stay (thank goodness), it's about who you stay with." No doubt. Could those two have any better company?

Too...much...brain...power...

Can't...go on...

Ugh. Did anyone catch Lost last night? I was such a flaky fan. I got into it, then it got too sciency. Then I got into it again. Then it got into the bedroom.

What is with that? I hate it when shows do that.

Then I got into it. Then it took waaaay to much brain power to stay with it. If I watch t.v., it is to sit and laugh mindlessly.

I have enough serious things to use up my brain power. For example, are these mom flip flops or hip flips? One can never be too careful.

But I did (somewhat) watch the finale last night with the hubs. I guess it was okay. Call me what you will, but I just like a good old fashioned happy ending. Everyone lives, the loves get married, etc., etc. I have enough real life in my real life. But whatever.
Further proves that t.v. is worthless and I should continue not watching it.

I was glad Hurley was a big part. I love that big ol' Jorge Garcia.

Well, I have to go. I was hoping to tell you about the air freshener enema that is in my bathroom, but there's no time.

Being Versatile

Look how incredibly nice! A new friend named Dorcas, yes, from the Bible, remember Tabitha/Dorcas/Gazelle (how cool is that? sorry to go on about it but with a name like Jennifer I pretty much keep name envy.), gave this to me.

I think "versatile" must be a nice way confirm that I'm chaotic, ADD, hormonal, and a few other things. But I like versatile. I'm going to use that next time my husband asks what in the world just happened. I'll explain that I am simply versatile. Passionately versatile.

We were watching a news special the other day about "stretches of the truth" various politicians have made and you know what they never called it? Yep. A lie. Isn't that great. They had a dozen different things to call it. I should have written them down.

We have always used the word lie and not "fib" or "telling a story" because lyin' ain't cute. And telling an imaginative story is. And there needs to be known a distinct difference.

Anyhoo...can I just tell ya, my dryer is beeping for no reason right now and it is freaking. me. out. Our power has been off for two days so I think it probably has something to do with that. At least that's what I'm telling myself.

Oops, I did it again. I had such a good post in my head last night. Couldn't sleep so had it all written out right here in my head. Rachel, the Queen of Blogville, told me to keep a notepad beside my bed, but I can't help it - I'm versatile.

Speaking of Britney, that poor child. I wonder if she is better. Hmmm...

I read an interview with this reality t.v. star Heidi Montag while I was at work the other day (I know) and it was so sad. It made me feel just awful for her. Twenty three and all that plastic surgery. She looked like a forty year old trying to look 23. And some of the things she said, ooooohh law, now she's versatile. Sadly versatile.

Well, pray for me. I'm about to go have some spiritual warfare with my possessed dryer.

Dancing Queens

I sure did get a lot of comments from people wanting to see how good I look in my sinning pants. Mmmm mmm, no way. I will not be responsible for the fall of anymore. Your soul won't be on my hands (or pants).

Today was good. Schyler wanted to teach me some proper spinning techniques. Oh uh uh honey. Not that kind of spinning. I tried one of those classes before...torturous.

Anyhoo - a prerequisite for dress buying in our home is that it has to have proper spinability. Sparkles come next.

So today she got dressed in her best ensem - complete with gloves and hat, at which point I have to start calling her princess and we fired up the iPod to do some dancing to the pretty music.

Well for some reason today she got very frustrated that I didn't have on proper spinning clothes.

So she scoured my closet for USD - Ultimate Spinning Dress.

Jack. Pot.

She found my maid-of-honor dress from my cousins wedding.

I eventually gave in and donned the dress.

Naturally, about thirty seconds into said dancing and spinning...

"knock, knock, knock."

I kid you not.

It was the AT&T phone repairman. You can call him and ask. He probably took a picture with his camera phone and has it posted on his facebook.

Or even better - maybe he has his own blog and is right now blogging "you'll never believe what I saw at work today..."

All I know is, I get mother of the day today. No arguments.

The Sinning Pants

You know how wonderful it feels when you buy something at a consignment or thrift shop that still has the original tags on it? It is like this immediate sense of euphoria. I bet if there was a scientific study done there are some for-reals good chemicals that our brains release.

Well, I hit the jackpot. There is a tiny little consignment shop south of here - and trust me, if you go south of my house, you are literally in the middle of nowhere.

So anyhoo - there's a tiny consignment shop. I always flip through the pants, just in case. Cause, you know, I'm six feet tall, chances of me finding pants are slim.

But I was flipping.

And seriously and truly God chose this day to shine down on me. I mean this is really seriously a gift from God. You think I'm kidding, but I'm not.

I found not one but two pair of pants, tags still attached -do you hear me? A white pair and a brown pair of the most beautiful, luxurious fabric you have ever seen in your life. Of course the first thing I do is go to the tag to check all the necessary info.

And the original price.....?

Get ready to spew your beverage -

$341.00

I kid you not. I would never joke about something like that.

So here comes the sinning part...

I love these pants. Love them. If my house was on fire, here are the things I would save in this order:

My child and my pants.

I put them side by side because my pants are technically closer to my bedroom so I could grab them on the way to my child. I would definitely think about wrapping them in a wet towel before leaving, though.

More sinning...

I look so good in these pants. Have I mentioned that I am six feet tall? Not too much of anything looks good on me. It mainly looks like I am wearing a much younger and smaller sister's clothes or a much older and larger brother's clothes.

Oh I look good.

Here's the main sin part...

When I wear them to church and we pray, I look down and...oh my goodness it's so awful I don't even know if I can say it.

I look down and all I can do is rub my pants, admire the perfect crease. Look at how perfectly they puddle around my feet. Yes puddle - I'M SIX FEET TALL!! This is some sort of fabrical anomaly!!!

Then all of a sudden there is a collective "Amen" and I'm like "whaaaa"? What just happened?

What just happened is I spent the entire prayer time admiring my pants.

And I don't think it's just me. Probably others around me are thinking "where in the world did Extra Long get her pants??"

Dare I say it? Dare I? Maybe they weren't a gift from God after all? Or maybe I'm just not using the gift the right way.

Maybe I should go down the aisle and ask for prayer for my pants.

Oooo! Then everyone would be sure to see my pants!!


P.S. I know your dying because I forgot to include the fact that I paid 7.50 for the brown pair and 15.00 for the white pair. I know! Still a lot, but I couldn't help it.

Mambo Italiano!

We have had some major fun around here lately.

Schyler and I made homemade pizza for supper. Attention all my girlz who like to go to the Pub. I'm actually having second thoughts about that name (we have nicknames for everything) because when we're in public and Schyler says "are we going to the Pub?" it can get uncomfortable.

So anyhoo - about Publix...fresh pizza dough is on sale in the bakery for 1.79 and you should have tons of marinara, cheese, and Lindsay black olives from previous sales. So buy a 5 lb. bag of onions that is on sale and then go back and get 2 bags of salad because there is a coupon on the onions and salad is on sale. Now use a little of what you have saved to go get you a couple of bell peppers. It will be worth it - splurge!! If your husband is like mine you are going to have to have a few ingredients to hurry that first heart attack along (which is why we made two).

Now go home and make pizza! Line your pizza stone with cornmeal, roll it out, throw it up in the air - it's the only way. Play some Italian music that you have on your iPod. Toss it to one another - woohoo! That's the way it gets done around here and Schyler is still talking about it.

[Insert Title Here]

Shame, shame, shame. Shame on me. I do love Jesus. And caring for others is not an option. It's not a calling. It's mandatory. But the good thing is, it comes with Jesus. I don't have to make myself try to feel things. It's a choice and I choose Jesus.

I have neglected the wonderful people of Nashville. Please check out this blogger from Tennessee. I pray the video she posted produces a godly sorrow. Because godly sorrow is to produce action, not guilt or condemnation.

Since I'm preaching, here's an excerpt from an online devotion I get that you may enjoy:


Choosing to laugh more than cry and finding the fun in each day was often like seeking buried treasure. But most days the good was there; it just wasn't as noticeable as the bad. Focusing on those moments felt like breath in my lungs.


What did they have that my 'pull-yourself-up-by-your-bootstraps' mentality wasn't fulfilling?

Jesus. They simply had found the Prince of Peace who sends the Counselor into your heart when you accept Him.

You can subscribe here or here
It's a nice little inbox addition.

I'm going to need all the reminders to repent today, anyway. Last night we made Tres Leches and I assure you it is downright sinful. It is hard to believe I can enjoy a slice of something that good and still go to Heaven. Mmm mm mmmm.

Good mail, good supper - good day.

Don't you loooove a good mail day?! Best day ever. One day, not too long ago, I got something like four curriculum catalogs on the same day! You may not get it, but homeschoolers are yelling a collective "not fair!" right now.

Well yesterday was an even better mail day! Look at this dainty little preciously simple box. It was so lovely. I didn't want to open it!
Who am I kidding - I did too.




And look!






My beautiful necklace from Beki at The Rusted Chain .

My picture does NOT do it justice. You need to go there and check it out. You can get some so unique gifts that any woman would love.


Now you would be worried if I didn't talk about something completely unrelated. Last night we had a good supper and I wanted to tell you about this "recipe" - we use that term loosely around here.

I heart the crock pot. Can I just tell ya'. A deep passionate love. The Crock will never let you down.

So anyhoo - Skinless chicken thighs, apple cider vinegar, chopped apple, chopped onions, spicy mustard, raisins, pepper, and garlic salt.

Chunk it in the crockster and give it a good stir.

Delish.

I cooked it on low for about 5 hours.

Now save yourself some time and hassle and go get that crock pot going.

'Tis I, your humble servant...

Did you all have a glo-rious day yesterday? Fab. Every woman is a mom - birth or no birth, so relish. Some of the best mothers I know never gave birth.

Schyler's Sunday school class had "Muffins with Mom" . It was so nice. The kids were supposed to serve us muffins and juice while we sat together in our perfect little family units.

The kids ended up playing in the corner while the moms sat and laughed and talked - much better scenario.

I saw they were going to make fill-in-the-blank cards for us. I was pretty excited about this because one of the blanks was "My mom helps me to understand_____"

Well the night before we had a pretty long conversation about how one becomes saved, what it means to be saved, why we choose to baptize even though it's not necessary to being saved, etc., etc.

Score!

Everyone is going to know how holy and wonderful I am! I am going to fly by all these other heathen moms!

Yesssss!

So I am walking with my over sized Bible preparing my very Biblical remarks and making sure I recall appropriate scripture on how I am fulfilling every last single one of God's requirements for godly mothering. Thank you God for not making me like all these other lazy mothers!

I open the card in all it's glory and find -

"My mom helps me to understand the oil spill."

Oh well.

She did write that I was as pretty as a fairy. Which is somewhat ironic. You know, considering I am six feet tall. Now where in the world would she get an appreciation for irony? Hmmmmm......

The man is pushing my buttons.

No, I mean literally. Seriously. Literally pushing the wrong buttons.

Yesterday we were all in my car and we had been listening to VeggieTales for a bajillionty hours. Finally Brandon couldn't take the singing vegetables (or Schyler and me singing at the top of our lungs) anymore and he started trying to turn the CD off.

So he pushed a button. It didn't work.

Move on? No.

He pushed the same button again, just a little harder this time.

*Dramatic pause...did it work?

Um, that would be negative. Were you truly expecting it too?

So I am stifling laughter and waiting for him to ask which button. Does he?

Is he male?

So he begins repeatedly pushing the same exact button.

Hellooooo? What is your problem? You may want to move on. And I am sorry, but I just couldn't tell him. At this point I was way to invested trying to pretend I didn't see what was going on. I had to see how long he would push that same exact button without stopping. At thise point I think Schyler was kind of in on it, too. You know - train a child up...

So anyhoo... This blog has a so funny video on it. If you have two or three minutes you should check it out. But you'll only get it if you go to church. And if you can laugh at yourself. So if you're a stuck-up heathen you should skip it.

Have a fantabulous day. One of my ladies from Curves gave me a gift card to Bath and Body Works for my birthday, so next time you hear from me, I'll smell much better.

P.S. I just saw the video here, too. Pick one.

Mustard Chips

One thing I got for my birthday was sweet potato chips. I adore sweet potatoes, but those chips were hideous. No flavor. At all.

So I fixed them by squirting mustard all over them.

Deee-lish.

Then Schyler followed.

She loved it too.

Then Brandon tried it.

He was a little disappointed. I think he thought the mustard was going to cause some culinary magicness and enhance the sweet potato.

When in fact the chips were merely a vessel for getting the mustard to my mouth in a crunchy fashion. I mean, good grief. I'm not going to just squirt mustard in my mouth. Sheesh.

Happy Day Before Cinco de Mayo

Well, it's the big day. My birthday. I know. I am another year wiser and more beautiful. You didn't think it could happen. Me neither.

Sometimes I think birthdays are backwards. Shouldn't we be thanking the mom on that day? Mom is the one that does all the work, the one being born just shows up.

People with multiple kids would make out like bandits, getting to celebrate tons of birthdays a year. We would have to figure out something for people with no kids, though...

Brandon and Schyler bought me a massive and delicious cake - chocolate, of course. I took a picture of it because it is beautiful and delicious, but in the picture it just looks like poo. Tragic.

So what should I do to celebrate? I'm thinking about getting a tattoo...

The SAHM* Unicorn

I just ate like half a dozen cookies.

Anyhoo...we had a way fun day yesterday. It was Field Day with our homeschool co-op group. I took my camera, but did not take the first picture. I wish Amy Prizasky was in my homeschool co-op...

*sigh*

Sorry, I was daydreamimg again. I may go to Charleston just to get some of her photog awesomness.

I didn't take any pics because I was having adult conversation while my child ran free. It was doubly fantastical because Brandon wasn't working. He took off to be in a golf tournament. So it wasn't like I had that SAHM guilt that says you're out here kickin' it while hubs is working his rear off. Yessssss.

I didn't leave 30 minutes early so I could get home and do a little surface work to make it look like I'd been slaving all day. Don't gasp! You know you do it! We turn every outing into some sort of "chore". I read blogs of other homeschoolers and call it "research".

I would call that the SAHM unicorn. The moment that is so rare and beautiful that nothing overshadows it. It is treasured forever, recorded in written word, and not quite believed by all.

Oh. About the cookies - they were baked with natural ingredients and they were fresh out of the oven, so stop judging me already. And they were tiny.


*Stay At Home Mom