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Wednesday, March 30, 2011


At least 4 times a week, I have been in a fairly impressive habit of preparing a healthy, well-balanced meal for my family.  If you know me, I usually go for the easiest and most efficient way to do just about everything in my life.  Preparing a hot meal in this itty-bitty rent house kitchen is no easy task....AND.............. {wait for it}...........I have NO dishwasher.  ((((gasp!  The horror)))) 

My kids are not equally impressed with my efforts, and I usually get at least one who refuses to eat, one who is boudeting (Cajun term pronounced boo-day-ing [pouting] which I don't know how to spell), and Abby who eats it all and asks for seconds (only while I'm also sitting and eating).

This post, however, is to say so long to those days of preparing dinner, slaving over a hot stove, spending 30 minutes more in the kitchen, and listening to the complaints of what my audience would prefer to be eating..............Hey, somehow, this blog which was meant to only bid a fond farewell to the healthy dinners has turned into something not so bad.

Anyway...BaSeBalL SeAsOn is here!!  My favorite time of the year!!!  Along with the beautiful spring weather, watching my kids play ball, and long, wonderful afternoons, comes baseball practice.  With 2 kids playing, this means a couple of hours minimum each day at the park.   Since, we are also building a house, I have other responsibilities to tend to after I can leave from that other thing I call a full-time job.  My life this week has been one priority to the next all day long from 5:30 am-10 pm.  Yesterday they ate Macaroni and Cheese and seedless watermelon.  Tonight, Spaghettios with Meatballs.  Tomorrow, I host a technology class after school until 5, then race to two practices at 5:30 and 6:30 at two different ball parks.   They'll probably be thrilled to receive dinner in a bag with a cheap toy.

Goodbye to the life of yesterday.  Goodbye healthy meals.  Goodbye whining kids at the dinner table. Goodbye evenings at home.  Goodbye patient, calm me.  Enter SpRinG!!!!  Thank God the days are longer.  They HAVE to be.


I am currently taking any and all suggestions to managing this busy scene that has become my life, especially if it helps me to feed my children something that will not permanently stunt their growth.

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Tuesday, March 29, 2011

Sick :/

Abby has been threatening a cough/cold yuckiness for the last couple of days.  This makes for some drag out, throw down quite interesting mornings.  Well, our mornings are typically "interesting", and not in a good way.  Add on top of that some fatigue, watery eyes, and runny nose, and we have a recipe for disaster.  THAT was this morning.  DISASTER. 

It was picture day today, and Abby has barely any shoes to fit her for springtime besides her ratty tennis shoes which she wears proudly and with anything.  My husband was out of town, so I had to drag the whole crew to Target to find some "cute shoes" to wear with her "cute outfit".  Buying shoes for Abby is no easy task.  Her shoe size is a 10 (toddler).  She is 7, almost 8.  Most kids this age are wearing sizes 12 to 2.  They can wear all the cute shoes on the rack that are so adorable this season.  Abby is stuck with Velcro, Dora, Barbie, Disney Princess, weird straps, giant flowers, and ladybugs. It took forever to decide on a suitable shoe that they had in her size.  When we finally did find them, she was so excited.  So was I.  We headed home, and went to bed.  It was that late.

Fast-forward to this morning to a groggy girl full of mucus and sleep.  I am sure you can guess what happened next.  She refused to wear the shoes.  Her ratty old tennis shoes were coming out of the closet.  Cut to the chase.  I won.  She wore them and complained a good part of the day.  Am I sorry for her?  No.  Not at all.

I'm off the subject (as always).  I was only blogging about sick kids.

So, today, after all of the morning drama, I was so thrilled that Abby seems to be feeling a lot better (although still crabby).  When I picked up Catie from daycare, they said, "She complained about her stomach all day.  We took her temperature earlier." {{I am not having another sick daughter so soon}}  I thanked them, and went into detective mode. 

"You know, Cate, if you're sick, you should really rest all day.  I think the best thing for you to do is go to bed when we get home."

"But, Mom, I want to wear my new swimming suit when I get home!"

"Oh...well, we'll see.  You can't wear a swimsuit to bed, and you're sick."

"Oh, Mom,'m...I....I...I'm.....I'm all better!"

"Oh, good.  I'm so glad you're not sick."



Saturday, March 26, 2011

What The?

<------WHAT THE?
I found this surprise when I got into my truck yesterday.  Apparently, this poor nickel had no idea it was plummeting to its untimely death when it fell into this vat of dark liquid, presumably chocolate.  I don't know how it got there, or who was eating chocolate {although all evidence strongly points to the youngest of the clan}.  I do know it was not there the day before. 

This is a typical, daily hourly, event in the life of a mom.  It happened yesterday when I went home for lunch and found the trail of coffee grinds at the front door leading to the (once again) tipped over trash can in a sea of last night's dinner rubbish; Pepper peering around the corner awaiting my reaction to his intentional defiance.

I've blogged about events that sparred this reaction also: Catie's need to be the Skins,    Zac's field trip purchase of kings  , the mysterious disappearance of the fish who never even had the chance to earn a name,   the little pink thing that we all knew I would lose,  and the time my daughter ordered a Bud light in the pretend cafe.  This is the stuff of blogging.  Without it, I would have no material. 

WHAT THEs make life interesting.  Clean it up, accept the change, absorb the reality, and move on. 

My latest WHAT THE was, however, a doozy.  One I am having trouble digesting.  As I left school yesterday, I packed up my papers to grade and other work to take home.  I had an armful, so I threw my red Gatorade on top of my bag.  You know where I'm going with this.  My students will have some very colorful graded papers next week, and one embarrassed teacher.

Lesson:  Check the Gatorade lid always, especially the red kind.

So long, I have a cup holder to manhandle.


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Sunday, March 20, 2011

Shirts and Skins

Well, thanks to this past basketball season, my 9-yr-old has brought the concept of  "skins and shirts" to our household.  This would be fine if I were raising more than one boy, which I am not.  I already have to deal with my little Cate running around, while screaming. "I'm the skins!  I'm the skins!" in her pink tutu.

Tonight, Zac's bed attire is the shirtless option.  Catie has come to me several times begging to be the "skins" for bed.  I am not allowing it.  Why do I choose to be so mean to an innocent 3-yr-old who is only trying to mimic her brother whom she idolizes?  This is one of many difficult decisions a parent makes in a day of parenting.  While it may seem like a simple, "Sure, go ahead.  It's just one night", I can assure you it is not.  Giving in and allowing the skins to exist during bedtime, will open the door for skins to be allowed any other night.  Girls are shirts, and boys are skins, Honey! 

She is apparently over it already.  It was rough for a small bit, but we're fine now.  Had I allowed it this one measly night, though, I would have had a much larger sobfest to deal with weeks down the road when my sweet Cate, who wears tutus and barrettes daily, will only sleep as "the skins". 

I'm holding my ground on this one.  Girls are shirts, boys are skins.


Saturday, March 19, 2011

High Maintenance

Wahhhaaahhhh!  .......gIrLs!!.....It is always something.  If you have a daughter, you will relate to this post.

My 7-year-old rarely wakes up happy.  Most mornings I have to wake her up countless times and drag her out of bed.  My son, on the other hand, pops out of bed and quickly gets dressed.  My daughter can't ever decide on what she would like for breakfast.  It is usually a different item, or in a different way than she once preferred it (milk?  no milk?  in a cup?  in a bowl?  with a spoon?  no spoon? grits?  cereal? pancakes?  which syrup?  which plate?).  My son makes his breakfast and eats it before any of us.  When she finally sits down for the painfully delivered breakfast, she eats a few bites, and throws the rest away.  One hour later, she asks for lunch.  My son eats lunch at your typical noonish time.

My son (while particular about it) will fix his hair without my coaxing.  My daughter's hair routine is much like the breakfast routine.  Ponytail?  no ponytail? to the side? with a braid?  no braid?  barrette?  no barrette?  head band?  no headband?  Once her hair is fixed, I see her an hour later at school, and it is different.  I see her at lunch, another 'do, then after school, yet another.

Getting dressed!  Even though most days requires a uniform, you cannot imagine how many ways said uniform can be worn.  Now that it is too warm for the girls to (legally) wear long pants, she has decided this is what she must wear, triggering dramatic morning battles.  On the weekends, what she wore last weekend is no longer comfortable, what you just bought her doesn't fit right.  Her dresser drawers are overstuffed and unable to close properly, but she really needs new clothes.  Socks are even an issue.  Not a small issue.  A BIG issue.  Too long, too short, too tight, too loose, wrong color, too twisty, too purple, too pink, too white, don't FIT!

The room is always a mess because it is overflowing with toys that no one plays with, her brother is always bothering her in one way or another, she's hungry, she's thirsty, she wants what she wants and she wants it right now...or else....waterworks

Well, seeing that this rant has only covered a few issues in the life of raising a daughter, I guess I should just stop with a swift "You get the point". 

My worry is that I have another following right behind her.  She is more high maintenance than a drag queen at the Apollo Ball.  She woke up this morning complaining of sticks being stuck in her feet, flexed her toes to show the bones, and said, "See?".  This complaint was delivered with the saddest, most pitiful expression one could muster.  She also had knots in her hair causing what sounded like a cat fight while brushing her hair.  Now, I have been ordered I can't laugh at her when she is funny...ever, ever again.  I think she may hold me to it, too.

That's all.  I have to go.  Abby has something in her sock that is causing great dismay.  We also have to go shopping for new clothes.


To my cousin, Allison, who will deliver her sweet Kate any day now: "Good Luck!"'ll need it.

My daughter who I thank God for everyday:) 

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Friday, March 18, 2011

Marriage 101

At every party there are two kinds of people - those who want to go home and those who don't. The trouble is, they are usually married to each other.
~Ann Landers

A friend of mine just posted this as her Facebook status ;)  Thanks Tammy. 

This is something I think of often in my married life.  My husband and I are different in many ways, but are alike in most of the ways that really matter.  We parent almost identically, we both make each other laugh, we are both pretty laid back, and we both enjoy being pretty sociable people.  All of these, had they worked out being differences, may have made this life of ours a little more difficult.

I'm only here today to talk about the latter quality.  We both enjoy being pretty sociable people.  On the weekends, we would never in a million years be stuck sitting at home.  We like to get out.  At the first whiff of spring, we both can't wait to get out and enjoy another baseball season with our kids at their games and watching college baseball.   If our friends are hosting a party, we are there.  Just the same, we are often the ones hosting the party.  Sure, living in this tiny rent house since July is cramping our style, but we'll get in the new house someday, and back to our normal selves.  (Oh yeah, I guess we need to get out into the LC social scene soon, too.  I don't think I know how to do that at allllll.)

I know.  I'm getting to the point.  Anytime I am talking to someone thinking of marriage, I always ask this one. 

Do you like to go out and do the same things?  Are you alike socially?

I don't mean everything.  My husband will never share the pair of tickets to the Russian Ballet, see Stomp, go to the Art Walk (happily), or the local Art Festival I go to every year, or see The Lion King when I finally get to go.  That's what my girls in my life are for.  But, my husband would be more than okay with watching the kids or seeing that I get to do what I want to do whole-heartedly.  I would be fine anytime he'd like to go fishing, hunting, camping, or whatever the men get together for.  We respect each other's social lives and enjoy ours together.   When we are together, we enjoy each other and our friends all the same.

We all know those people who are DYING to get out of the house, go out for just one night, and booorrredddd.  I'm not one of those people.  I'm glad. 


<----This is my husband and me.  The picture is a couple of years old, but cameras are kryptonite to his smile.  This time, he won.

This was also the short time in my life when I allowed my curls to do their thing.  Mistake.  Lesson learned.

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Thursday, March 17, 2011

Daylight Savings T....zzzzzzzzz

This week has been a total bust.  This Daylight Savings Time has thrown my whole aura off, and I can barely stay awake.  Nightowls all over the world are staying up just as late as usual (or later), just like me, and waking to the sound of that deafening alarm at 5:30 am.  But, actually last week this would have meant we were waking up at 4:30 am.  So, this is where I am: staying up an hour later; waking an hour earlier.  Making for one migraine, one after school nap, one really b*tchy day, and 3 kids staying up waayy too late and being waayy too cranky after school.

Now, it is Thursday.  I am starting to feel a little more in control of the situation.  I had a very productive day.  All of the kids felt back to normal.  Showers actually happened before bed time (where the 3-yr-old felt inclined to sing "All The Single Ladies").  The kids were in bed on time {except for that same pesky 3-yr-old who every now and then scurries behind me, on the side of me, and under me (well, my chair) on her way to a hiding spot where she spies on me from around a corner}.  I actually went to the GYM, and completed a FULL workout!  I was in a great mood all day.

Thank goodness.  I was beginning to think I needed to move to Arizona or Hawaii, where they are just rebellious enough to NOT observe DST. 

We'll make it.  We'll come around.  Next week will be better.  After all, the extra daylight is essential for our much loved favorite season of the year..........................................of course, you know, I mean BaSeBaLL SeAsOn!!!!


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Sunday, March 13, 2011

Girl Doctor

Catie is student of the week this week, so we had to fill out a questionairre.
ME:  Catie, what do you want to be when you grow up?
CATIE:  A doctor.
We sat with this thought for a moment.  Then, "But, Mom, when I grow up can you put my hair in a ponytail, so I can be a GIRL doctor?"    (motioning the shape of an imaginary ponytail)

Birthday Done Right

Yesterday was my birthday.  I turned 30 something.  As a mom, it's hard to decide how you want to spend your birthday and Mother's Day.  Well, for this mom it is.  You see, we are moms 365 days a year, 24 hours a day.  On 363 of those days, we work, work, work, work continuously.  But on these TWO DAYS, the table is turned.  I become the receiver, instead of the giver. {Cue singing angels}

The purpose of this post is to thank all who took a minute to wish me HaPpY BiRtHdAy, give me a sweet gift, share a few hours with me, or babysit my kids all weekend long:)

At school my class gave my a personalized notepad and the sweetest initial pendant necklace which I shall wear with love.  Several of the students brought some really thoughtful gifts as well.
(Teacher tip:  Teachers get lots of gifts from their sweet students.  Great ones are notepads, travel mugs, simple jewelry, candles, note from your kid)

I decided to start my birthday by giving to a great cause because I am so completely blessed, it's hard to believe sometimes. My family and I participated in the Walk to Cure Diabetes held by the Juvenile Diabetes Research Foundation (JDRF).  My godchild, Blake, has Type 1 Diabetes.  He has had it for about 10 years now.  It has been a long, hard road for him and his family.  He has had a few close calls and is blessed to have the support of a great family.
The warning signs of type 1 diabetes include extreme thirst; frequent urination; drowsiness or lethargy; sugar in urine; sudden vision changes; increased appetite; sudden weight loss; fruity, sweet, or wine-like odor on breath; heavy, labored breathing; stupor; and unconsciousness.
<----This is a picture of my daughter and her cousin taking a break during the walk:) (in the wagon that my brother graciously pulled for 2.5 miles)  After the walk, I joined a friend at the gym and did a tiny bit of shopping.

Finally, my husband was able to come into town, and we joined some friends for a night out.  While at dinner, I realized that most of these friends had been in my life for over 15 years.  We have been at each other's weddings, watched each other's children grow, celebrated many birthdays together, helped each other through tough times, and cheered for each other in good.  I am so blessed to have them all in my life even if we find it hard to find the time to pick up the phone for long periods of time.

How does a mom of 3 accomplish SOOO much alone time on her special day???  Enter Nana.  My mom watched my kids Friday so I could go to Downtown Alive AND Saturday so I could go to dinner.  (My brother and sister entertained them at times as well.)  Then she woke up Sunday and cooked lunch for everyone!  Moms are magnificent.  When I am at my mom's house with my kids, it almost feels like a mini-vacay. {Cue sound of waves crashing onto shore}  She cooks for me, fixes me coffee, watches my kids, and makes sure some of my favorite foods are there.  No wonder I visit so often.

I am so truly blessed to have this family and these friends around me on this special day.  This birthday was truly done right.


Wednesday, March 9, 2011

Enter the Lenten Season

Day one of no sweets is going...just okay.  I'm not crazy or obsessed just yet.  I have, however, figured out my times of the day when I most divulged into the sugary splendor.  Those would be immediately after finishing lunch, and anytime from school dismissal until....well, that's still being discovered, I guess.  ((Probably bedtime))

I've been thinking all day of what on Earth I could feed my carnivorous offspring.  Meatless spahetti? Shrimp Fetuccini? Crawfish Etouffee? Cheese Enchiladas?..........I finally just decided to ask them what they would like.  After getting over the "no meat" thing, they have all agreed on eggs.  I knew that was what they would want in the first place.

Lesson:  Overthinking dinner is never worth the extra effort.


Tuesday, March 8, 2011

FAT Tuesday

Happy Mardi Gras to all!

Although Louisianians all over the state (and beyond) are paying homage to their "roots" by observing this dreary day in March as Fat Tuesday, I am sitting home, completing lesson plans, listening to my kids argue over the Mario game, watching the dog go in and out, in and out, in and out, and holding a sleepy-eyed 3-year-old. 

I am perfectly content being home instead of on the parade scene.  I have a quiet house.  I have my kids safely with me.  I have a clean bathroom.  Well, okay, I have a flat tire, so I couldn't go if I tried.  Still and all, I am fine with it.

I will observe this Mardi Gras in a more historical way.  In the beginnings of this French tradition, the term "Fat Tuesday" came from the idea of preparing oneself in the Catholic faith for the upcoming Lenten season, thereby ridding the home of all "fat", or gluttonous temptations.

I have in my kitchen the recently purchased Girl Scout Cookies.  Enough temptation to drive even  the most pious soul over the edge.  Hmmm.  I guess that's about the worst thing here.  I don't touch the kids' snacks so they don't count.  I can't throw away all of the kids' Valentine's Day candy, so I will just have to resist.

Tomorrow, on Ash Wednesday, I will enter the Lenten season a new person!  I will be careful in my meal and snack (the latter being the hardest one).  I will exercise regularly no matter the excuse I can produce in that moment. Meatless Friday will enter the scene.  I will give up the hardest thing I have ever had the courage to attempt. 

S-W-E-E-T-S.....................  :(

Wish me luck.  I'll need it.


P.S. I'd like to apologize in advance to the Tootsie Roll makers of America for abandoning them during this Lenten season.

Monday, March 7, 2011

This House of Ours

This is it.  Our house.  The window for completion is about 8ish weeks or so.  THIS house better be good.  THIS house has been the root of some major stress, mostly for my husband.  It would stress me out if I knew the first thing about house building, but I do not.  I only worry about paint colors and floor choices, and window dressings.  You know, the aesthetics.
My husband, however, worries about EVERYTHING!  Will the electrical wiring carry the load of all we will need to plug in, is the concrete sound, did we put enough pilings underground before we built (50 something), is the elevation high enough, did I put enough cable and internet jacks in EVERY room, is the house facing the right direction for optimal sunlight at the 5 o'clock hour????
 While these all sound like typical worries of a home builder, I (fortunately) don't have to worry about such things.  My husband (unfortunately) worries enough for all involved.

Case in point:  My husband is currently hanging electrical fixtures in the shop.   He does not just want the typical fluorescent bulb, of course.  He has this overabundance of knowledge in certain areas (well, many areas), and sometimes that knowledge morphs the simplest task into an endless {and unwelcome} quest into physics, or thermodynamics, or electrical [insert big term here].
I have often said that my husband would look up chap stick in Consumer Reports if he could.  He is so bent on finding the B-E-S-T product out there, it creates a lot more work.

Today, he is searching for fluorescent light bulbs.  NOT just any bulb at Home Depot.  He has GOOGLEd, and BINGed it to death.  Now, he'd like me to become involved in this quest for the perfect shop light bulb in the perfect hue of fluorescence ever imagined.  At first, knowing his stress and obsession with his shop, I concurred.  45 minutes later, on my Lundi Gras, in my PJs ~STILL~, with the kids needing everything under the roof, with tons of work to do, I have thrown in the towel.

I have GOOGLEd, and BINGed, and called, and, click, click, click, click, clicked eNOUGH for one morning.  Even the Teche Electric guy was puzzled by my explicit need for the T-8 32 Watt 5000k specifically!  Then he asked me another question...In what color???  I don't know what color??  I am under exact orders to tell you this exact description!  In the color of LIGHT!

I have since called my husband, obviously stressed, and told him to go to Home Depot.  Poor thing.  I'm no help.


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Friday, March 4, 2011

(((LoVe NoTe)))

A love note I received from a student today:)  It's love....


P.S. Excellent grammar, too!  By the way, today is National Grammar Day.  Celebrate!

Thursday, March 3, 2011


My son had a wonderful field trip to the Houston Museum of Natural Science on Monday.  Knowing the class would be stopping by the gift shop, I armed him with dough like any good parent would.  This is my son whom I once sent to an LSU baseball game with $20.00 for concessions on one of the hottest days of the year (100+ temps).  He came back with $17.00.  He had only one lemonade.  The cheapskate frugal mom that I am was thrilled at this.
So, again, I gave him $20.00.  He asked what he should get his sisters {((How sweet!))}.  I told him not to worry about them.  The money was alllll for him. He L-O-V-E-S science, so I knew he would get something really cool.

This is what he came back with.

"What are they made of?"
"I don't know."
"Ten dollars EACH??"
"NOO!!!  They were $9.95.  That's not bad!"
"I hope you L-O-V-E- them."

So, now we are the proud owners of the most expensive rocks ever.  We don't know what they are made of, or how potentially cool they may be, but they're ours.

Maybe I'll use them as paperweights eventually, or book ends for tiny books, or garden accessories, or weapons, or maybe I can frame them in a shadowbox.  This type of spending could drive a tightwad  responsible spender over the edge.  Everything in our house must serve a purpose.  There are too many of us to keep meaningless items around.  If it has no purpose, I typically throw it out or give it away.  Any ideas??

Anyone know what they are?

Lesson:  Be more specific when sending son to buy "whatever" he'd like.  "Whatever" shall not include rocks.


Wednesday, March 2, 2011

Missing: One Golden Colored Fish

I knew it was a bad idea from the get go.  Abby is just not a responsible pet owner yet and has leaps and bounds to progress in this department.  I got her the fish anyway.  On my weekly pet check in the rooms, I noticed the inevitable.

So, here we go.............

MISSING:  One Gold Fish.  Last seen swimming in the tank pictured below.  Answers to the name of.......well, I guess we never named him  If seen swimming in your area, comment below.


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Final attempt...I'm Diving In

Last week I had the Bad Idea.  You know, I fell asleep on top of my graded papers on a Friday night!  Ugh.  So here it is...the dreaded stack, half graded, half beckoning me every minute of the day.

Along with the fabulous independence of a 4th grader, comes the dreaded discussion question.  We dread grading them as much as they dread answering them.  They are, however, a necessary evil.

SO...I'm going in for the kill.  I shall conquer this everlasting mountain of coma inducing wickedness.  And if I DON' the authorities.  I may need to be taken away in a nice, white coat.

(all for the babes that I thank GOD for everyday:)


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