It's all about the pee pee

So . . . we bathe Bo and Sascha together because, well, we care about saving water. Or maybe we are just lazy like that, whatever. Anyway, they are naked together for a short time each night.  I'm not gonna lie, Sascha has definitely noticed Bo's "extra", um, shall we say, appendage? But, in true form, Bo has never noticed her lack of one.

Until last night.

The dynamic duo were sitting there amongst the bubbles and water playing Dinos and Dora when Sascha said, "OW!" about something. Bo was concerned about her hurting and it must have been high up her leg near the aforementioned area because when he decided to go in for a look, he gasped, "OH NO!! OH, SHASHA!! I SO SORRY ABOUT YOUR BOOBOO!!"

Well, now I was a bit concerned about this booboo, so I asked where it was and this is what I got:

"MOMMY, IT ON HER PEE PEE!! HER PEE PEE IS GONE! OH, SHASHA, I SO SORRY YOUR PEE PEE IS BROKEN!!"

And with every bit of restraint I could muster (because Bo is very sensitive about being laughed at), I explained that having a pee pee or NOT having a pee pee is what tells us if we are a boy or a girl.

And seriously, a light bulb went off for him. He is well known around these parts (no pun intended) for confusing pronouns. At any given moment, I could be a he or a she and Bo a him or her. He threw them around like they were interchangeable. But, last night, Bo literally got a clear picture of why we chose Sascha to be called a she and why we insist that he is, well, a he.

It's all about the pee pee folks. (Or lack there of.)

I can only hope he doesn't go to school next week asking to see if his friends have one or not to help clue them in on their gender. Never a dull moment around here, y'all. And people (I'm talking to you GAP lady) think the life of a stay at home mom is boring. Shoot. I haven't been bored in almost 10 years.

Dear lady at the park

I took Bo and Sascha to the park yesterday. Every time I pull into the parking lot, Bo gasps as if we have entered Disney World and says, "Oh, Shasha, yook--we are back at the Maumelle City Park! Thank you, thank you, Mommy!!"

(Actually, we are always at Marlow Manor park, but whatever.)

We have been 5 or 6 times over the last few weeks and managed to find ourselves totally alone the first 3, mostly alone the 4th (one little boy who swang the whole time), and completely NOT ALONE the last 2 . . . like . . . playgroup central for one and Grandmas' treats the next.

Now I am a reasonable and rational (mostly) person and have no ownership in the park (at all since it's not even our neighborhood's park), but I do believe that there are a few common courtesies to be followed. I think they can best be summed up by the following: It is not your responsibility to ensure that my kids have fun at the playground. It would be nice, however, if you did not make it NOT FUN for them to be there.

That's right, inappropriately dressed grandma, I'm looking at you. (And shoot, CG members, I may have, probably was judging too.)

If you cannot let your sweet granddaughter actually play on the relatively safe equipment without calling her over to evaluate the pros and cons of each time up the "rock wall" to the slide, then DON'T COME!! Each gasp and "OH NO NO NO!!" and "I just CAN'T DO THIS if she does that!" and "That is NOT how you climb or slide or walk over the bridge" and "Don't play over there because there are kids already there!" made ME miserable. I can only imagine how that sweet girl felt. In the end, we left. I could not handle her.

(Or the thought of one of my kiddos contributing to the delinquency of grandbaby's play.)


So, thanks. We left early. We got home early. We (and by we, I mean they) made more of a mess. I am still undecided on my cleaning delegations, so I got to clean more.


Plus, I had set apart that time to read a little. But I was too busy watching you panic to read.


And it is a really. good. book.

Mommy Monday part deux

Ok . . . I'm putting it out to the blog nation . . . I need your help!

I like when my house is neat and clean and clutter free and ready for drop in visitors. When I lived by myself, the toilet stayed clean, I vacuumed every day, dishes were never laying around . . . then I got married and a couple of things changed. It's not just that Josh is less concerned with cleanliness than I am (although that is true), it's also that I had a hard time asking him to do something that I felt was my job and I was torn between hanging out with him (because I am also a social person who enjoys the same sort of television programs that he does) or cleaning. Then we started adding children to the mix . . . sweet, adorable little tornadoes of messy terror. Fatigue, parenting, wanting to chill with my hubby at night, not wanting to be the mean mom that made them pick up all the time and not enjoy playing, allowing myself to believe that they were not old enough to have those responsibilities, and the belief that all the responsibility lies with me and what I have now are kids who are in no sort of cleanliness routine. They are supposed to make their beds and bring their dishes to the sink. They will clean up when told to (but oh the wailing and gnashing of teeth), but I am not (at this moment) raising kids who contribute to the up keep of our home because they know that it is expected of them. They do it more out of fear of crazy mommy when things get to a point that I start talking in a voice that only dogs can understand. I honestly believe that they wish they could hide when they hear me say, "ARE YOU KIDDING ME?!"

Now a few disclaimers--I have an unrealistic standard for myself that I don't attain even when my house looks nice. I am always annoyed by the closet or drawer or office or magazine pile that no one else sees. I function on a pass/fail system and I don't know that I have ever sat down and passed myself. Usually when I sit down it is in complete defeat and despair. I just want to give up.

I realize that my kids are capable of MUCH more than I expect from them and I am curious what you all require of your kids. Maybe I am not expecting enough of myself and I should be able to keep it all up. Do you guys have a system? Is it reward based or consequence based or just you WILL do it based? I want my kids--including my boys--to know HOW to clean up after themselves. I want them to be prepared individuals as they enter adulthood. What trips me up is guilt and perfection: guilt that I am asking something of them that might be my job and might interrupt their lollipop and sunshine world and also the realization that they won't do it like I would. (Although, if I am overwhelmed and shut down, their version beats mine.)

So there you go. Mommy Monday topic #1.

Haley Hammock

Josh is from a small town in South Georgia. It's one of those towns that shows up in southern literature--a square with little shops and cafes, large, beautiful homes on a tree-lined Main Street, generations of families still living there--where everybody knows everybody and the grandmas grew up with the grandmas and raised the moms and dads together who raised their kids together who are now grown ups and having kids of their own together.

Josh's parents have been friends with Janet and Kenny since high school . . . they played football together, went to ABAC together, stayed friends after they married, they've vacationed together and their 3 kids each lined up well age wise--Josh and Jacob, Jase and Gabe, Megan and Jodi Beth. Now, only in the perfect worlds we imagine in our heads at play groups do all 3 sets of kids stay best friends forever and ever amen, but the Hammocks and the Basses are important to each other.

As we grow up, we discover that it's more about stage of life than chronological age when it comes to who your friends are. Megan and Jodi Beth have stayed close, and now, all these years later, Megan and (husband) Will, Jodi and (her husband)Will, and even the older brother, Jacob and (wife) Haley have found themselves in a Sunday School class together, bonding and growing as grown ups, and, as the trend would have it, even raising some kids together.

You may remember my doll baby, sweet, perfect lover bug nephew, John Tyler

Well, a week ago, his little girlfriend was born

Kate Hammock also has an older sister, Grace, who is 4.

Everything seemed fine and the Hammocks went home a family of 4. Sunday night, however, Haley (the mom) started complaining of a headache. And it got worse and worse and then she started having seizures. Jacob called 911 and after some time in the local ER, she was transported to a larger hospital in a nearby town. They found bleeding on her brain and the prognosis was unknown.

5 days later, Haley is still in a coma. The bleeding has stopped and the blood is very slowly being absorbed back into her body. Because of where it was, they could not operate to relieve the pressure or drain the blood.

As a mom, my heart aches for her family . . . for her infant who needs her mommy, for her 4 year old who is trying to process Mama being so sick, for Jacob who has kept such a faithful and strong vigil by her side. As a sister, my heart aches for Megan . . . she is scared and sad for her friends and she is missing her friend. I'm sure she imagined them sharing "war stories"--how many times were you up, what color is the poop today, etc not waiting for updates on her struggle for life. Jacob and Haley and their friends and family have been in my prayers constantly. 

My mother-in-law posted the following on her Facebook page.....it has blown me away to see Jacob's trust in God:
Please keep Jacob and Haley and the rest of the family in your prayers. They have been up over 48 hours and they are worn out. They are broken hearted and they hurt..but they know that the Great Healer is on their side. I heard Jacob pray one of the most beautiful prayers I have ever heard. He grabbed his Mama and said this with his head bent down in her neck. "Didn't Jesus say that wherever two or more of you are gathered, I'll be there?? And if two or more of you agree here on earth concerning anything you ask for, my Father in Heaven will do it for you ??? Well, there are 2 or more of us gathered here and I am claiming this for Haley....Dear Lord I know she is yours and I will love You no matter what happens. But please answer our prayers and let her get well....she's got 2 little girls who need her here......and I need her...."  Please pray for this sweet family. Pray that the bleeding won't come back and that her body absorbs the blood quickly so that there will be no more damage.


In the midst of all of the sadness, the Hammock family welcomed another life into the world. Gabe's wife had a little girl. I cannot imagine the swing of emotions that they must all be feeling....life and the struggle for life consuming their thoughts and prayers.....celebrating while grieving and hoping and begging.

All we can do is pray. For the strength of the Hammock and Croft (Haley's maiden name) families. For the little girls who call her Mama. For their friends. For Haley's complete and total healing. It's not impossible.

There is a prayer chain on Facebook and a website if you want to follow her story. Please lift up these families when you think about it--I imagine His angels of comfort and mercy covering them with the prayers of so many.

Shopping notes

Today, I had some "me" time. It makes me happy, giddy, and tolerable to have some guilt free alone time. I decided to do a little shopping because my closet is, well, pitiful. I convinced myself (and hopefully Josh will follow) that I am spending too much money on All clothing detergent rewashing the same 3 things and could break even by expanding my wardrobe, whilst saving myself time doing laundry. Is that too much of a stretch? I don't think so!

As easy as summer sundresses and t'shirts are, I am so excited about fall weather and fall clothing. Boots and sweaters make me smile. But, today, as I went from store to store, I discovered that I'm not sure what my style is. I want to be fashionable yet age appropriate; comfortable but not sloppy. I'm thinking Jennifer Anniston casual, but I feel more like I have been channeling Brittany Spears casual . . . you know roots showing, sweatshirts, cut off jean shorts, old flip flops and maybe one too many "yalls".

Anyway, after my short time at the mall, I have a few letters to write . . .

Dear Forever 21,
I would like to suggest that you change the name of your store to "If you are too much over the age of 21, you have no business even considering most of the stuff in this store, so keep on moving unless you are here to purchase a gift for one of your babysitters." Maybe that's too long, but let me just say the bodies and sensibilities of those of us in our 30's and beyond can attest to the fact that the only thing that stays forever after the age of 21 is the hope that you will get carded.
PS . . . no other store in this mall EXCEPT MAYBE Gymboree would call that a small. Minuscule maybe, but NOT SMALL. Unless you meant for that much midriff to show, in which case, please see the body of this letter for why it didn't work for me.

Dear employee of the Gap,
At 10 am on a Thursday morning, a LARGE if not TOTAL majority of your customers are stay at home wives or moms. (I'm sure there are a few exceptions.) Given that statistic, perhaps LOUDLY stating that you could "NEVER JUST BE A STAY AT HOME WIFE" and you mean "NEVER!!" is a bad idea. Some (ahem, ME) might find it off-putting and offensive and wish we had enough money in our clothing budget and that you worked on commission so we could reenact the scene from Pretty Woman and come in with our Banana Republic or Francesca's purchases to point out that you made a big mistake. Big. Huge.

Dear ALL clothing stores,
If it's poncho-ish or in the shade of camel or grey, go ahead and put it in my dressing room. There is a high likelihood of me trying it on and a similar chance of me purchasing it.

Dear Self,
When auditioning perfumes, SMELL the nozzle BEFORE you shoot that test squirt into the air. This will allow you to 1) preview it to make sure it's not so heinous you don't want to proceed and 2) see which way the spray hole is. This may prevent you from squirting the scent that makes you nauseous and head achy right onto yourself and smelling it for the next 8 hours.

The end.

Mommy Monday

So, the blogging trend is to have some recurring topic at least once a week  . . . Big Mama has Fashion Friday (I think given my love for athletic shorts and t'shirts, I should NOT be giving fashion advice, UNLESS you are looking for cheap athletic wear, in which case, I'm your gal), several people do Wordless Wednesday (let's be honest, me . . . wordless . . . not likely), and Kelly's Korner has SUYL (show us your life) on Fridays. All that to say, I think I will introduce . . .

                                        DRUM ROLL AND GREAT ANTICIPATION

Mommy Mondays . . . I plan to focus my posts on Mondays on some aspect of motherhood . . . lessons learned, questions for you guys to help me with, etc.

Today, however, I will focus my Mommy Monday on the last baby who will ever call me Mommy because it was her birthday on Saturday. (**SNIFF**)

We have a family tradition . . . on your birthday, you wake up to your presents from us wrapped and ready to go on the kitchen table and then everyone loads up for donuts. Sascha's day was no exception, and as she was the LAST one up, there was a greeting party waiting for her when she shyly made her way into the kitchen.

Sweet Bo almost tackled her yelling, "Happy Birfday Shasha!!"

So happy in her Robin costume

We went for donuts and picked up her cake and a couple of "party" things on the way home. She wasn't having a party, per say, some family and some cake, but we went ahead and did party hats and blowers because it was a party to her. When we pulled into Party City, she wanted to know where her birthday badaloon was. 

How did she even know about those?!

But, as Vince Vaughn said in The Break Up, "What baby wants, baby gets!"

The Durah Budaloon was bigger than Sascha (and popped in less than an hour)

We grilled some burgers and dogs, ate some cake (which is always from Mickeys for the family party and the best cake you will EVER have) and enjoyed a beautiful fall day watching Sissy not ride her new bike. She thinks she may be "too yittle" . . . she keeps trying and one day she will get it!!

The day was sweet and fun and ended with her dinner choice of cheese wrappers and a Scooby-Dooby Doo movie (Josh was truly thrilled!) It was a bittersweet, nostalgic day too. She's the end of an era . . . for 9 1/2 years, we've always had someone 2 or under in the house, changed diapers, used strollers, etc. Sascha is growing up and edging us into a new phase of life that I love more than I thought I would, but there are moments of the "young years" that I will miss too. Looking back over pics from the her actual BIRTH day and the sappy song Party City was playing didn't help :)

 That look on my face is ecstasy! It's me thinking take the pic and LET'S GO so I can quit feeling nauseous for the first time since JANUARY! Oh, and so I can meet the baby!

 And that look is enamored, undescribable love and bliss

The dynamic duo then

and now

 One of my all time fav pics of Tru and his baby sister

And that handsome boy in glasses with her now

Grateful that she had a brief time with her soul mate . . . they are 2 peas in a stubborn and hilarious pod. I'm so thankful for the ways they are alike because Granny truly lives on in Sassy

My baby girl then

And that sweet angel now

Sweet Sascha . . . you have brought a level of spunk and fun to this house that we could not have imagined! You are fun and daring and sweet and unafraid (well, of everything except autoflush toilets). Half the time I want to freeze you or squeeze you back into diapers and baby clothes and the other half I cannot wait to see who you become because, oh my, she is going to be something else! I think the presents you asked for sum you up well--Rapunzel, My Little Ponies and Robin. You are somehow all girl, all super hero, all rolled into one. I love your sweet prayers, your cuddles, and the fact that you are a Mommy's girl! I hope you never lose your zeal for life or your fun little accent. You are adored by all of us, and thank goodness you are cute to help you out when we may not adore what you've done! Happy 3rd birthday, sweet Sassy!! I love you so, so, so, so, so, so (to infinity and beyond) much!!!

Well apparently 4th grade can be as dramatic as Bachelor Pad

Caroline got in the car yesterday with all sorts of news . . . she did not get Student Council Secretary--a boy did, who, by the way, she says is NOT responsible and totally got it because he was the only boy running, so all the boys voted for him.

I think they call that sexism. Or, in elementary school, a smart way to win if you are confident in being a boy secretary. (Which obviously he is since that was the ticket he ran on.)

And then the REAL drama hit:

Caroline: Mommy?!

Me: Yes?

Caroline: You know (she said a name, but I will protect the truly innocent)?!

Me: Yep

Caroline: Well, her boyfriend, (I will be kind and protect the guilty) CHEATED ON HER AND SHE FOUND OUT!!

Me: (struggling between laughter and disbelief, because how can you cheat on someone in 4th grade?!) Um, How do you cheat on someone in the 4th grade?

Caroline: Weeeeelllllll, I'm not sure, like I think he asked another girl from another school or maybe even STATE to be his girlfriend too and she totally found out about it and broke up with him on the playground.

Me: Wow. That's rough.

Caroline: Yeah, she said she knew all about the other girl and he said he didn't care and so she broke up with him and then he called her the b-word.

Me: (silently chanting "keep it cool, keep it cool") ummmm, what b-word? Butt?

Caroline: Nope. The one that rhymes with ditch.

Me: Oh, so you know that one, huh?

Caroline: Yeah, and she's so not one. She's like the nicest person.

Me: Yes, she is. So, apparently, you know what it means, too.

Caroline: Well, some girls who were witnesses, I wasn't a witness, told Ms. Lewis and she's interviewing them tomorrow. And, I mean, HE'S A ROOM REP!!! (said with such indignation) There's NO WAY they can let him stay a rep if he is cheating on her and called her that!

And it was here that I reached a fork in my mind . . . should I
a) burst her bubble about our political figures and the history of infidelity that often goes along with them
or
b) let both of our brains settle down from the shock and trauma of the great 4th grade break-up?

I mainly went with b and said, "Care-unfortunately, even our elected officials make choices that we wish made them not our reps anymore, but sometimes they get to stay in office even if they don't deserve it. Want an ice cream cone?"

The most dramatic post in Flying Years history

Not really, but if Chris Harrison was introducing it, that's what he would say!

Well, I'd like to start off by saying YOU ARE WELCOME. And here is why:

#1- You are welcome if you had never watched an episode/train wreck of Bachelor Pad and because of my post low those weeks ago, discovered that you too have a sickness whereby you derive great amusement and entertainment by watching people reveal their psychoness on national television whilst playing for $250k and potentially contracting untold numbers of communicable diseases. (Or as one of my friends put it "They make me feel so normal!")

#2- You are welcome of you would not be caught dead watching such filth on television and appreciate the fact that I have only wasted 2 posts of your time discussing it/embarrassing myself.

But because I KNOW I am not alone (check my facebook page the last several Mondays), I will offer a brief summary of what I have learned/observed from Bachelor Pad 2.

1) Much congratulations are due to the editing team from Brad Womack's 2nd Bachelor run. They had me convinced that Michelle was a crazy, crazy trashy girl. In fact, I believe that Michelle may be the sweetest, most honest, most sincere, funniest and SANEST girl to walk through those doors (twice). I ended up adoring her and THAT may be the most shocking revelation in Bachelor recap history.

2) I am HOPING BEYOND HOPE that Michael was acting when he said that he did not know that Blake and Holly were engaged. Holly didn't seem teary enough and Blake (while always a little sleazy when he grins) seemed to be hiding a smile and I really hope he would not be gloating about publically hurting the guy who helped his fiance win $125,000. (Not that I think they will actually get married, I mean come on, I waste my time watching the stuff but I don't buy it!)

3) THANK GOODNESS Kasey looked mortified when watching scene after scene after scene of him being a hee-haw! And how awkward when he apologized to Jake and basically shared an "I feel ya, man" moment?!

4) If looks could kill, Vienna's eye darts would have taken down every single person in that studio.

5) I am uber impressed at Justin (the "wrestler") and his many, many creative ways of coming off as a jerk. Yes, all of America was aware (and annoyed) that Kasey talked weird. Way to bring it up in front of all America and make us actually feel sorry for his voice.

6) The jury is still out on Erica--is she crazy or dumb or just good at playing the part? Her crystal gavel would probably rule her smart, beautiful, and amazing.

Personally, I would like to thank my DVR for recording this each week and allowing me to fast forward through commercials to lessen the time I wasted on the show and allowing me the ability to rewatch or pause as I laughed, cried and gawked.

I was annoyed by Ashley (the last Bachelorette) so I did not watch her season and since they chose a Bachelor from it (Ben) whom I have no interest in, I will probably not watch that either. I'm sure that ABC will suck me in again at some point, but for now, I will slightly elevate my reality TV/laundry folding distraction standards to the likes of Rachel Zoe's new season. I LITERALLY may never talk about it though because each week will involve me drooling over bags and clothes and locations that are beyond my budget and feeling the need to take a nap after just watching how BANANAS her life is and that is just not nearly as interesting as Melissa looking crazy as she tried to convince us all that she is only crazy on reality TV (which she keeps signing up to do).

Information you probably could have lived without

Well, I know that has been a week since I posted, but I have a REALLY good excuse!

Last Tuesday, I picked Bo up from school and began drinking a nasty concoction of iced tea and magnesium citrate. The bottle claimed to have a pleasing lemony taste. I say it tasted like lemon-scented Pine Sol and if you find that pleasing, than I will not be accepting beverages offered by you.

Anyway, the point of my nauseating cocktail was to give myself a good cleansing. Apparently, doctors like doing surgery on people who have absolutely nothing in their systems whatsoever except remnants of some compound that tastes like floor cleaner.

So my excuse is that I had surgery.

See. I told you it was a good one.

And I know that I might could have told more people (including my loyal blog following), but that would have required me leaving the state of denial that I was camped in.

It was nothing major. I just have a warm and inviting set of insides and an unwanted ovarian cyst set up residence and had no intention of leaving on his own. (And I say "his own" because my friend, Julie, suggested we name it and we picked Napoleon because it was relatively small but destructive.)

Anywho . . . it was not major surgery (and my doctor wasn't concerned that it was cancer or anything else), the cyst was just not going to do anything but continue to grow and cause pain and eventually, potentially do some damage . . . just some minor, laparoscopic surgery that required--dunh, dunh, dunh--me going under general anesthesia!! I am almost 35 years old and I have NEVER been under anesthesia. And let me tell you that it is ONLY because I was told I really had no other options that I did it. Ask everyone who knows me that knew about the surgery, I begged, pleaded, connived, cried, and begged some more to have it done with an epidural or local or not at all.

Pain does NOT phase me. Someone knocking me out and sticking a tube down my throat does.

Call me a control freak. (Or just a freak, whatever.) I DON'T CARE! I did not (do not) want to be knocked out.

I had a colonoscopy COMPLETELY AWAKE AND UNSEDATED TO AVOID ANY SEMBLANCE OF BEING KNOCKED OUT MEDICALLY!!

I have had 4 children and may or may not have lied to one of my nurses about the state of my epidural when the possibility of an emergency c-section came up. (I ended up NOT needing one, so no worries.)

All that to say, I was less than excited about the surgery. Through lots of prayer, Bible verse recitation, encouragement, and the fact that sooner or later, it had to happen, I managed to show up thoroughly cleansed and surprisingly calm Wednesday for surgery.

The talented and sweet Bryan Fuller walked Josh and I through the procedure . . . I have 3 incisions (I think, obviously I was more intrigued by what the anesthesiologist was going to say) and they are mostly painless. He did a great job because my biggest complaint was my throat. (Although it did hurt some when I laughed or sneezed.)

I remember very little once they gave me the happy juice . . . something about the operating room looking fine, asking the recovery nurse if I had been nice and if I could have some Diet Coke in my IV, sweetly asking Josh to be quiet, answering, "I'm nauseous and hot" to every official person who spoke to me or checked on me, and I vaguely remember answering my phone that night when Bryan called to check on me. I wish I knew what I said to him. (Or maybe I don't.)

My cyst was the size of a golf ball. Sweet Napoleon. And I have pictures of the surgery that I have debated posting on here. In the end, I think I won't so those of you disgusted by all things ovarian will return, but I think they are pretty cool.

Josh, my parents, and my friends have been amazing the last week bringing food, taking care of the kids, and allowing me to rest. Yesterday, I resumed a fairly normal routine (minus working out, I will wait a couple more days for that) and did well. I am thankful for my health and the fact that I am able to take care of my family. Besides dreading the surgery and the anesthesia and the subsequent nausea, the hardest part for me was asking for help. I like being self-sufficient. I love to help others (it makes me so happy!) BUT I am not as good at letting others help me. I think it's a combination of pride and not wanting to bug anyone or put them out.

Well. There you go. That's why I've been out of touch with the blog world. And tomorrow, I will make you wish I was still MIA when I evaluate, commentate and diseratate (ok, so I made that word up) the most dramatic and shocking Bachelor Pad finale!

It's the first day (again)

Today is Bo's first day of school! The sweet thing is so excited that he told me he would just go ahead and get in the car and wait there while I got Sascha out of bed and dressed.

He was so happy and ready and gung ho, that I couldn't even get emotional about it. Sometimes there's not room for even the bittersweet tears.

Although, if I think about it too long I could get all tuned up since I was pregnant with him when Caroline started her Pre-K program at Asbury.

And now that in-utero love is there as a Transitional Kindergardener.

In order to keep my grief at bay, Sascha and I went to Panera to celebrate with my latest obsession--Cinnamon Crunch Bagels. I only go maybe once a week and I limit myself to one. They are to die for even if carbs are soooo uncool (back in the day, bread was the way to go if you were watching your figure, because it was low fat and so I may or may not have consumed more bagels a day than recommended during high school and college--hmmm, perhaps that was where the freshman 15 and sophoMORE weight came from).

Now Sassy and I are back home, trying to figure out what to do when there are no fights to break up. I am soooo looking forward to our time together. I've never been alone with her on a regular basis. (Actually, I haven't been one on one with a kid since Caroline was 1.....new territory, folks!! So fun!)

Here are some pics from our morning:

 He's so big!

 But not as big as his backpack!

He loves seeing his name!!

Saw our buddies on the way out

White flag

Dear Sascha and Bo,

It's Mommy. I'm hiding right now and waving my white flag of surrender.

I don't know what your terms are. I really don't care.

Later bed time? Sure.

No broccoli at dinner? No problem.

Cookies in bed? Great idea!

Just please cease and desist all other plans to drive me crazy. It's a short trip and I feel like I am just an exit away.

Metallic purple fingernail polish on the carpet, locking the bathroom door to eat Skittles, breaking into Daddy's office, spraying Scrubbing Bubbles in your hair..........my head hurts.

I love you both a lot. I'm sure God has wonderful plans for your creative, artistic, clever, sneaky, and innovative ways.

But today they have made me tired.

A few things I would like to share

here are some random observations/thoughts from my week . . .

#1- Sneezing while going into a curve on a 2 lane road busy with carpool lines is risky and frightening and a little thrilling to survive.

#2- You really CANNOT keep your eyes open when you sneeze.

#3- I may have some control issues. (I realized this when I announced to Josh that I would rather my cyst explode inside of me and cause all sorts of pain than go under general anesthesia to have it removed.)

#4- My control realization was not really a new one, more of a confirmation.

#5- It's hot outside.

#6- UGA and Arkansas both play their 1st football games of the season tomorrow and I. AM. GIDDY.

#7- My 7 year old questioned my intelligence and schooling when I didn't know the answer to his pine tree question. It was the first and only time I have ever thought maybe I should have been more involved in my leaf project in 10th grade.

#8- Then I remembered that pine trees don't have leaves, they have needles so I rescinded my previous thought. That project wouldn't have helped me.

#9- I vow every morning as I drag myself out of bed to go to bed earlier that night.

#10- I never do.

#11- I am going to end on an odd number, just to prove that I can.

#12- Or maybe I can't.

#13- I certainly can't end on 13 . . .

#14- Please see #3 and #4 for a hint on why trying to end a list on a non integer of 5 would bother me.

#15- OH! I just correctly (I think) used the word and concept integer. HA! I have to go brag to my 7 year old. (Or feel really stupid when he corrects me.)