Friday, July 30, 2010
Bunty had a board meeting so couldn't come up until yesterday and Buddy was his driving companion. Buddy is Nanny and Bunty's Lab.
He tips in at about 125 and rode the whole way in the front seat. With a pillow. And with his charm and personality, he got Bunty out of a ticket on the way.
This morning, I took Buddy down the driveway and the town below looked like this.
Then, we came in and Trey and I were introduced to Buddy's morning routine. Nanny and Bunty drink their coffee and about half way through their cups, Buddy comes over and waits patiently for his turn.
Wednesday, July 28, 2010
They're not sure they'll ever be able to sleep again without one.
I'm willing to bet they can.
We ventured to the top of the mountain this afternoon where I realized two things...
1. My deathly-afraidment of heights is exacerbated when my children are involved. Watching them on the ski lift in front of me, swinging in the breeze, with nothing between them and the wildflower be-speckeled ground but a metal bar gave me the willies.
2. My sunscreen is for lightweights who live at sea level.
All that being said, we had a great hike and made it to the peak where we almost lost Sadie to a terrible fall straight off the side of the mountain.
I know, we're dorks. But, it's little things like these that keep children entertained while their parents are desperately trying to catch their breath.
Monday, July 26, 2010
Well, it's that time of year again. The time when our family gets to hit the road for vacation.
This year, thanks to Nanny and Bunty, we're headed to Crested Butte to stay in the cool mountain air for a whole week.
It's possible they've forgotten the noise my children are capable of.
Or the smell of Darius' basketball shoes.
Whatever the cause for their critical lapse in judgement, there's no turning back now. We've been on the road since 5 a.m.
We got off a little late because both girls have fever - a little nugget I may leave out of the "checkin' in" conversation with Nanny.
Oh, Diary, I kid. I'll have to tell her so she can pick up some chicken noodle soup at the Walmart in Gunnison.
Kid. There's a word that starts with K for the Alphabet Game we've been playing for 2.7 hours.
My friend, Gini, called at 5:15 to chat. She was all awake and busy and the sun wasn't even up yet. I think there's something seriously wrong there.
We just drove through Memphis, TX so it was obviously time for the "Oops, guys! I must've made a wrong turn somewhere. We're in Tennessee!" joke that Trey makes every year.
It never gets old.
The other conversation that apparently never gets old is this one...
"Baby, do you think we REALLY need to give the kids Dramamine?"
"Trey. Are you kidding?"
"No. I really don't think they need it."
So, this year, I didn't hand out the 'sleepy candy' per my husband's request. We lasted 3.4 hours and then, through tears, he was begging me to hand it out.
Let's just say, boys + the excitement of vacation + 16 hours in a church van + sugar = mayhem.
Diary, I'm so glad I have you to record sweet memories like these.
Oh, and I can't forget the beautiful sound of laughter tinkling from my precious girls as they lean into one another, splitting earphones, while they watch, and quote much of, Nacho Libre.
"...and then I will become the greatest fighter that ever lived. And I will come back and make soup."
That's all for now!
Wednesday, July 21, 2010
Last week, a coupon ran with half-price tickets and unlimited drink refills so I snatched it up. Surely, there is enough Diet Coke in this world to get me through a day at the waterpark.
My kids barely slept last night, they were so excited.
If I'm honest, I may have silently prayed for rain but to the delight of the children, it's a perfectly sunny day temperature: 102.
We've been here now 3.5 hours with no signs of slowing down. We've raced down slides 147 times and floated in a lazy river that would be much lazier with about 30% less people and a frozen margarita with salt.
Along with that idea, I've got a few more for the general waterpark suggestion box.
1. When you're choosing your straw vendor, you might want to rethink the whole "whistle straw" thing. I can't tell if my kids are trying to get my attention or the lifeguard is correcting me for yelling, "IN YOUR FACE!" to the kid I beat in the last race.
2. Perhaps you should prohibit the use of tank tops and boxer shorts as acceptable swimwear. On girls, especially who may never have actually tried on the outfit soaking wet to check it's transparency.
3. Remind your gentlemen patrons... Just because your swimwear FEELS like underwear, you are NOT in the privacy of your home and we can SEE you constantly rearranging your junk.
4. And finally, if you park your family next to another family, AND you had the forthought to pack large, yummy-looking sub sandwiches for your crew, it's only polite to share your bounty with the other family whose mother thought her four children could get by solely on sunshine and free drink refills.
With whistle straws.
Wednesday, July 14, 2010
"Mrs. Hill, what's that building next to Mercy Street?"
"Well, there's two storage barns and then the new Charter School is being built on the corner."
"No, the other one. We had a lady come to school one day and tell us they could do sonograms and stuff."
"Oh, you mean Dallas Pregnancy Resource Center?"
"Baby, they're amazing. Do you want to go talk to them? I'm happy to take you anytime."
"My little sister is pregnant. She wants to have a sonogram to find out how far along she is."
The little sister is 14. She'll be a Sophomore in high school. She's smart as a whip but has been making decision after decision that was leading her to this point with certainty for a while.
"Ok, let me call and make an appt. What did your mom and dad say?"
"They're real upset."
"I'm gonna be an AUNT!!!"
Yes. Yes, you are.
I don't know why this still surprises me - babies having babies and other babies being excited about being aunts and uncles before they know how to drive. But, I do remember being 14 and thinking there were no consequences for the things I was doing, the direction I was heading. Then, in college, as a Christian, I remember reading this verse written on the back of a local Christian Fraternity's date-party sweatshirt.
And that they would stop having sex.
Monday, July 12, 2010
Sometimes, they take the hint, sometimes I light candles.
My favorite is this one by Voluspa.
The scent is Baltic Amber and it's fabulous. It kinda makes me wish I'd invented it - a little the same way I wish I'd invented kooky pens, and rubber bands shaped like animals/dinosaurs/sea creatures that kids could wear around their wrists until they cut off the circulation and turned their fingers purple.
Speaking purely from experience.
Anyway, usually, the candle can cut through the worst stinky boy smell but the other day, Baltic Amber met his match. The boys are almost constantly eating from turkey sandwiches to chocolate cake and, the other day, one of the boys' friends was making some microwave popcorn. It would have been all fine and good if he hadn't also been playing a video game and set the timer for about 7 minutes.
It doesn't take 7 minutes to make microwave popcorn. It actually takes about a minute and 40 seconds so, when Jamie finally remembered his snack, it was flaming and had filled my house with smoke and a smell the likes of which my Baltic Amber candle couldn't conquer if I'd burned a zillion of them all night long.
My clothes even smell. So does the dog.
So, the moral to the story, and my takeaway was this. Coming up with the next big thing is not as easy as it looks but sometimes, there are some obvious product ideas to avoid. For instance, I think I'd shy away from the burnt popcorn scented candle.
Probably wouldn't be my biggest seller.
Friday, July 9, 2010
I had to look that one up twice to make sure I was spelling it correctly. I am. Trust me.
You just looked it up, didn't you?
Anyway, one of the things he, um, strongly dislikes, is if you take a bite of something he's eating - especially if you use his fork/spoon/straw because, obviously, you put your lick on it. He's often asking when handed a bowl of something, "Did you put your lick on it?" Which we always reply, "No.", because we don't want to have to re-prepare the dish making sure it is 'lick-less'.
I'm telling you this as a stupid segue into what will now become my most educational post ever. I'm actually thinking of turning this blog into a resource for homeschooling moms, scientists, or Harvard professors so, your reactions to this post will either confirm or deny my new found call.
Are you ready? Hang onto your hats - which, if your weather has been anything like ours, are large brimmed and SPF 8 billion.
Several years ago, Trey told me the story of the Nature Studies Teacher at West Dallas Community School who had all her students on a nature hike one day when they came to a cluster of Daddy Long Leg spiders.
She gently plucked one down, held it out for the curious kids to see, and then to their disgust, licked the back of the spider.
"It tastes kind of like licorice!" She exclaimed.
The kids were falling out all over the place. "That's NASTY!" "SO NASTY" "AW, THAT'S SO WRONG!" But, minutes later, all these little inner-city kids were hunting down their own daddy long leg spiders and licking them too, squealing, "It really does taste! That's so CRAZY!"
I've always loved that story because I love nature studies and watching children being wowed by God's creation. That being said, while we were at the ranch this weekend, we found cluster after cluster of Daddy Long Legs and I felt prompted to have our own nature studies class right by the pool.
I caught one, closed my eyes, and licked it. Weird. Kinda like black licorice or peppermint. Kinda numbed my tongue a little. You know you're gonna try it.
For the next fifteen minutes, 12 people - four over the age of 29 - were catching creepy crawly things and licking them to test my theory. Graham had to make sure he was catching spiders that no one else had 'put their lick on'. By the end of the morning, that was no easy task.
Later, Trey asked me, "Now, where did you hear that story?"
"I thought YOU told me!"
"Nope, never heard it before."
"Oh. My bad."
Footnote: Daddy Long Legs, or Harvestmen, are, in fact, arachnids but not actually spiders. They have only one body section and two eyes, not eight, which makes it much easier to lick their backs without actually touching your tongue to their eyeballs. Shudder.
They are also not poisonous.
Y'all have a great weekend!
*No daddy long legs were harmed in the execution of this experiment.
**Except for the one Sadie licked because, for the love of Pete, look how she's holding it.
This one may have lost a leg or two.
Wednesday, July 7, 2010
Sadie was all over the sparklers...
Part of their fear was maybe attributed by us four adults constantly screaming, "DON'T PUT YOUR FACE OVER IT!!!
DON'T PUT YOUR FACE OVER IT!!!"