tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-42586565371663561552024-03-14T02:40:02.819-07:00Diary of a busy housewifeUnknownnoreply@blogger.comBlogger34125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4258656537166356155.post-70322717429096616912013-08-15T19:41:00.000-07:002013-08-15T19:41:03.136-07:00Growing Pains<span style="-webkit-composition-fill-color: rgba(130, 98, 83, 0.0976563); -webkit-composition-frame-color: rgba(191, 107, 82, 0.496094); -webkit-tap-highlight-color: rgba(26, 26, 26, 0.296875); font-family: Noteworthy; font-size: 18px; font-weight: bold; line-height: 24px;">Cooper,</span><br />
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I took you to meet your kindergarten teacher today, and in 3 days I'll drop you off for kindergarten. I met your teacher, and I liked her fine. She seems very sweet and loving, kind, and everything a kindergarten teacher should be. I couldn't put my finger on my emotions at the time, but later as I thought about it I realized I'm a tad jealous.</div>
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I'm jealous of this new lady in your life that I'm sure you are going to love. This lady who will get to spend 40 hours a week with you while I will be at home wondering what you're thinking, are you making friends, what are you learning, and the list goes on.</div>
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You see, just yesterday it feels like I brought you home. Just the two of us in a one bedroom apartment, and I was all you needed. We met Daddy and Jaylyn, but still you were the main man in my life. We spent 3 wonderful years with you going to the preschool I worked at. I use to sneak downstairs during my class's music time so I could sneak a peek at you on the playground because I wanted to see what you were doing when I wasn't around.</div>
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Chloe came and I was happy she was a girl so you could keep being my only perfect little boy. You started promising to marry me and told me you'd never move away. You told me that when you grow up you'll be a "cookie guy at Publix" so you can still see me all the time. After spending the next two years at your grandmommy's preschool and getting so smart and ready for kindergarten, you are just that...ready.</div>
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But I'm not.</div>
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I'm not ready to trade in mornings of snuggling in bed and watching cartoons. I don't want to give up picking you up from school at 1:30 and spending 2 hours at the park. I'm going to miss having you at the grocery store and you holding my hand as we cross the parking lot because you want to keep me safe. I'll miss waking up on Wednesday morning and deciding we need to ride the train at the zoo. I'll miss random McWane trips or deciding last minute to go to Airwalk. You have been a challenge sometimes, but it has been the best (almost) 6 years of my life.</div>
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But I know you're going to be great.</div>
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You are such a leader. You're funny, smart, full of energy, and above all, you are the most tender hearted child I've ever been around...it's your best kept secret. You are going to love school and getting to learn new things. You are so excited to get to have science (so funny because that was my worst subject) and I'm so excited for you.</div>
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I love you so much buddy. These six years were much too fast, and while I'm so excited for you and what the next 13 years have to hold, I'm mourning a little bit that my best little buddy is leaving me for kindergarten. I'm already excited though to pick you up from school and hear all about it. And while you are gone I think I might spend the whole day just looking at your little sister because if there's one thing you've taught me is she's going to be a kindergartener much quicker than I can imagine. </div>
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You and your sisters are my little piece of perfection in an imperfect world and I love you so much more then your almost 6-year-old self can understand. </div>
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Love,</div>
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Mommy</div>
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Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4258656537166356155.post-57679120296022824252012-09-27T22:01:00.000-07:002012-09-28T09:40:16.943-07:00Mamaw<div align="center">
<em>"</em>Surely, two of the most satisfying experiences in life must be those of being a grandchild or a grandparent." -<em>Donald A. Norberg<u></u></em></div>
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My mamaw isn't doing well. She hasn't been doing well since I was pregnant with Chloe, but has held in there and God has given us more time with her. All day I haven't been able to get her off my mind. I have had a constant sad feeling and I think I've spent the whole day praying in my head. But as I reflect on her life up until this point I can't help but smile as I think what she has meant to my life, the lessons she has taught me, and the gifts she has given me.<br />
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The majority of my memories with Mamaw are tied to my papaw who went to heaven in 2003. I love thinking back to all the big family "get togethers" I experienced as a child (even though I can't help but feel sad my children won't experience the same) in Mississippi. The memories of riding three wheelers, playing with dogs, watching baby chickens hatch, fishing for catfish (and the ever elusive white catfish!), staying up late with my cousin Will, chewing double mint gum, and being told I eat like a bird by my mamaw:). What I experienced as a child was what true family was all about. Getting together no matter how inconvenient, sleeping on couches and floors just so we could all be together, and having my grandparents and aunts let us stay in Mississippi for a week without our parents (the ultimate fun!)...now as a parent, I realize just what an undertaking that was!<br />
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<em>The picture my Aunt Brenda mailed me when she caught the white catfish</em></div>
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My mamaw has taught me many things. She taught me that you're never to old to go after a goal. I learned this when I attended her celebration party for obtaining her GED. Both my mom (who was taught by mamaw) and mamaw taught me the importance of a home cooked meal and eating meals as a family. My mamaw was so proud when she heard John (who I'm sure was stretching the truth) brag about me cooking him dinner every night. I do cook for my family most nights a week, and that is all thanks to the value of a family meal that I was taught by both women. Mamaw and Papaw also taught all of us about marriage. About staying together through better or worse, through times of sickness and health, and until the end. When my papaw passed away in 2003, they had been married over 50 years (52 I think).<br />
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Most importantly, my mamaw taught me you can be a traditional stay at home Mom, but that doesn't mean you stop speaking your mind. Good, bad, truthful, and so on, we've always known what my mamaw thought about things, and you always knew where you stood with her. John might wish I hadn't developed this trait sometimes, but you better believe that man always knows what I think...just like my mamaw.<br />
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One of the true presents my mamaw has given me began with the birth of my son Cooper. My mamaw and her husband Jimmy came to see us when Cooper was only a few days old. Getting to see my mawaw instantly love Cooper that way will stay in my heart forever. 4 years later my cousin Amanda and I drove 2-week-old Chloe 5 hours to Mississippi to see Mamaw, and I once again got the gift of seeing my mamaw love my child. It is a beautiful thing to see and the feeling is mutual. At Thanksgiving last year it was my mamaw's arms Chloe was so happy to be in, and over the past year my son has religiously prayed for God to heal his mamaw. </div>
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<em>Mamaw and Cooper September 14, 2007</em></div>
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<em>My mamaw and Chloe August 18, 2011</em></div>
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When I think of all the good my mamaw brought into my life there is one thing she gave me that stands out. My mom. The best person in the world I know. I am so lucky to have her as my mom and my children are lucky to have her as their grandmommy (or 'andmommy!). I miss her while she is in Mississippi with my mamaw, and I wish so much I could be there with the two women who made me for lack of a better word...me. </div>
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<em>Erica and me at one of MANY themed family parties May 2004 (this was Mamaw's 70th party)</em></div>
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<em>My favorite photo Amanda has ever taken. Thanksgiving 2011</em></div>
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Unknownnoreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4258656537166356155.post-1396984822720209142012-02-04T20:29:00.000-08:002012-02-05T07:18:31.295-08:00How I Forgot My Blog's NameIt has been so long I have forgotten my <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_0" class="blsp-spelling-error">blog's</span> name. Seriously. It took me two tries to locate my blog and 4 tries to remember the password. So I will once again try to commit to my blog...<br /><br />To get back into blogging I will take the tagging challenge my friend Valerie tagged me in (check out her blog at <a href="http://iamdaughterdogdreams.blogspot.com/">http://iamdaughterdogdreams.blogspot.com/</a>).<br /><br /><br /><div align="center">Here are the rules I was suppose to follow: </div><br /><p align="center">Here are the rules: 1. Post these rules. 2. You must post 11 random things about yourself. 3. Answer the questions set for you in their post. 4. Create 11 new questions for the people you tag to answer. 5. Go to their blog and tell them you've tagged them. 6. No stuff in the tagging section about you are tagged if you are reading this. You legitimately have to tag 11 people.</p><br /><p align="center"><strong>BUT</strong> since I don't have many "followers" or friends who blog, I challenge anyone who blogs and reads this to answer my questions and play along (some call this cheating, I call this not being technology <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_1" class="blsp-spelling-corrected">savvy</span>!).</p><br /><p align="center">So we'll start with my 11 random facts...</p><br /><div align="left">1. I knew I wanted to be a teacher from the time I was 3 and never <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_2" class="blsp-spelling-corrected">wavered</span> from that until I was 3 years into my major in college. I freaked out, became a sociology major, and graduated with a semi-useless degree. And what did I become? A preschool teacher. (Side note...my parents are still a little bitter about this.)</div><br /><br /><div align="left">2. I have what I call a "parental fail" almost daily. These have become little jokes I make up in my head and laugh about instead of thinking about what a bad Mom I might be. </div><br /><div align="left"></div><br /><div align="left">Example: Cooper came up to me the other day telling me there was a "freaking bug" in our house. My child has picked up on how I substitute bad words and now he does it too. Parental fail. I'd give you more examples, but then no one would let me watch their child.</div><br /><br /><div align="left">3. I'm fairly certain my hair is jet black and curly at this point yet I still wear it very <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_3" class="blsp-spelling-corrected">blond</span> and straight. </div><br /><br /><div align="left">4. If I had not totaled my 2000 Honda civic two door hatchback car (and it was purple) there is no doubt in my mind I would still own that car...and John would be driving it (that really makes me laugh). Best car ever...and fastest!</div><br /><br /><div align="left">5. I drove that car well over 100MPH on many occasions. I have never driven my 2009 Buick Enclave over 75 MPH. Children change everything. </div><br /><br /><div align="left">6. My mom is my best friend. I talk to her most days more than I talk to John.</div><br /><br /><div align="left">7. I am terrified of 99.99% of big dogs and about 95% of small dogs. </div><br /><br /><div align="left">8. The only non-<span id="SPELLING_ERROR_4" class="blsp-spelling-error">alcoholic</span> drink I will drink are diet coke, water, and sometimes coffee. I don't like anything else.</div><br /><br /><div align="left">9. I despise sweet tea. Even the smell makes me sick.</div><br /><br /><div align="left">10. I hate Thanksgiving food. All of it. I normally eat a small piece of turkey and a roll just because I feel obligated.</div><br /><div align="left"></div><br /><div align="left">11. I consider <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_5" class="blsp-spelling-corrected">deleting</span> <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_6" class="blsp-spelling-error">facebook</span> every day. </div><br /><br /><div align="center">Questions to answer:</div><br /><div align="center"></div><br /><div align="center">1. Birthdays. Love them or hate them?</div><br /><div align="center">I have a love/hate relationship with them. I hate getting older but I love attention and presents:)</div><br /><br /><div align="center">2. Get your purse/gym bag: What are the first five things you pull out?</div><br /><div align="center">Wallet, old <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_7" class="blsp-spelling-error">Publix</span> receipt, lip gloss, iPhone, Chloe teething toy, Matchbox car</div><br /><br /><div align="center">3. What is one meal you can make better than anyone else?</div><br /><div align="center">My husband loves my Chicken <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_8" class="blsp-spelling-corrected">Parmesan</span> so we"ll go with that.</div><br /><div align="center"></div><br /><div align="center">4. You get one wish. No restrictions other than it must be selfish (can't wish peace for the world). What is your wish?</div><br /><div align="center">That nothing bad would ever happen to my children. That I could shield them from any pain, sickness, bad choices, etc. </div><br /><div align="center"></div><br /><div align="center">5. Cake or pie?</div><br /><div align="center">I love both...I love a <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_9" class="blsp-spelling-error">Publix</span> cake, but I also love cold pies like key lime pie and lemon <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_10" class="blsp-spelling-corrected">meringue</span> pie.</div><br /><div align="center"></div><br /><div align="center">6. What is your secret talent?</div><br /><div align="center">I can triple roll my <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_11" class="blsp-spelling-corrected">tongue</span>. I can also touch my <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_12" class="blsp-spelling-corrected">tongue</span> to my nose.</div><br /><div align="center"></div><br /><div align="center">7. Early bird or night owl?</div><br /><div align="center">I wish I could be a night owl, but the little people who live in my house have turned me into an early bird.</div><br /><div align="center"></div><br /><div align="center">8. Biggest pet peeve?</div><br /><div align="center">My dirty garage, people not picking up their shoes, my son putting wet pull-ups under his bed, and Oreo barking non-stop at 2am. I obviously cannot pick one pet peeve.</div><br /><div align="center"></div><br /><div align="center">9. What is your favorite weird food combination?</div><br /><div align="center">I don't think I have one...I am a fairly boring food person. I do like <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_13" class="blsp-spelling-corrected">Cajun</span> seasoning on my pizza. Is that weird?</div><br /><div align="center"></div><br /><div align="center">10. Which would you choose? No social media for a year or no working out for a month. Why?</div><br /><div align="center"><span id="SPELLING_ERROR_14" class="blsp-spelling-corrected">Wel</span>l since I never have time to work out I probably could make it a month, but if I ever really start back running I could give up social media.</div><br /><div align="center"></div><br /><div align="center">11. Would you rather have no babies or eight babies? </div><br /><div align="center">If it is 8 babies all at one time I would still probably pick the 8 babies. I couldn't imagine my life without my children, but that would be a hard 18 years!</div><br /><div align="center"></div><br /><div align="center">Here are my questions if you decide to play along...</div><br /><div align="center"></div><br /><div align="center">1. What TV show do you watch that you would not want anyone to know?</div><br /><div align="center"></div><br /><div align="center">2.Put your <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_15" class="blsp-spelling-error">iPod</span> on shuffle...what are the first 5 songs it plays?</div><br /><div align="center"></div><br /><div align="center">3. If you could be on vacation right now, where would you pick to go?</div><br /><div align="center"></div><br /><div align="center">4. In 10 years from now where do you think you'll live?</div><br /><div align="center"></div><br /><div align="center">5. Which would be more <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_16" class="blsp-spelling-corrected">beneficial</span> for you...gas prices dropping or the housing market picking back up?</div><br /><div align="center"></div><br /><div align="center">6. What is your biggest pet peeve?</div><br /><div align="center"></div><br /><div align="center">7. If you could eat all day for free, where all and what all would you eat?</div><br /><div align="center"></div><br /><div align="center">8. Rainy day watching movies inside and napping or sunny day taking a 12 mile hike?</div><br /><div align="center"></div><br /><div align="center">9. Any big goal for 2012?</div><br /><div align="center"></div><br /><div align="center">10. White, milk, or dark chocolate?</div><br /><div align="center"></div><br /><div align="center">11. What was the last thing you bought for yourself?</div>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4258656537166356155.post-63246343091705392122011-07-16T18:38:00.000-07:002011-07-16T18:51:00.618-07:00Time...a tribute to my hubby<div align="center"><em>"Because I had the time of my life, and I owe it all to you."</em> </div><br />Cheesy song (I know) and (hopefully) I haven't HAD the time of my life, I am currently HAVING the time of my life. And it all began almost three years ago.<br /><br />In a little over two weeks John and I will celebrate three years of marriage. Three BUSY years. What have we done in 3 years? Here's a synopsis...<br />-bought a house<br />-went through major surgery (me)<br />-bought a new car<br />-got pregnant<br />-AND (drum roll please...) will introduce a new baby into this world in 19 days of less (but who's counting)<br /><br />And these three years have flown by. It's true that time flies when you're having fun, it flies when you're raising children, it flies when you're happily married, it flies up until you're less than three weeks away from having a baby and then time drags...<br /><br />I sometimes wish time would slow down (as in I can't believe my first baby is about to be 4!), but in the meantime there is no one I'd rather be spending my time with than John (although he might not agree that he wants to spend all his time with me this last month of pregnancy HA!). So here is to a whole lot more years together (<span id="SPELLING_ERROR_0" class="blsp-spelling-error">ummm</span> I'm thinking forever) and a lot more fun. However if we slow down some, I won't complain:)!<br /><br />I love you, John.Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4258656537166356155.post-72244875327336469612011-04-16T12:28:00.000-07:002011-04-16T12:56:57.668-07:00The evils of facebook?My mind is full and needs to be emptied. Between thinking about changing this house to <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_0" class="blsp-spelling-corrected">accommodate</span> the new baby (anyone out there want to rotate three bedrooms for me?), thinking about all the yard work that needs to be done that I can't do because of allergies, and thinking about something that was just thrown on me today, I am tired of thinking. Therefor, it's time to blog. Today I will blog about <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_1" class="blsp-spelling-error">facebook</span>. Is is good or bad? Up until recently I would say good. What a great way to share your life with people who you would otherwise lose touch with. It's always exciting to get in contact with someone you haven't spoken to in 5 years, and never would have if it weren't for <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_2" class="blsp-spelling-error">facebook</span>. My thinking about facebook started a few weeks ago when I got in my <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_3" class="blsp-spelling-corrected">car and</span> the radio was left on 104.7 and I caught myself listening to Rick & <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_4" class="blsp-spelling-error">Bubba</span> (who normally I detest). They had a caller who told a story of their wife being contacted on <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_5" class="blsp-spelling-error">facebook</span> by an ex, agreeing to meet them for lunch, and then being propositioned. Rick & Bubba argued that without <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_6" class="blsp-spelling-error">facebook</span>, the ex probably would have never been able to contact the man's wife. If he had contacted her, it would have probably been by phone and the wife would have never answered. If they had talked, the guy probably would not have had enough courage to ask her out OR asked to really "get together" in the adult sense. The wife was smart enough at that point to show her husband the messages and he went and met the guy for lunch and I'm sure you can guess what happened next... The question is, is <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_7" class="blsp-spelling-error">facebook</span> really just Pandora's box. An outlet for "reconnecting" with family, old friends, and even <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_8" class="blsp-spelling-corrected">exes</span>? In 2011 does a marriage really need another outlet for the devil to sneak in? Or maybe I'm blowing <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_9" class="blsp-spelling-error">facebook</span> out of proportion and it really is just a big class reunion waiting to happen...until you remember you use to date people in your class. You wouldn't have a bunch of ex boyfriends (or girlfriends) in your cell phone, so why do they need to know what restaurant you checked into, where you went on family vacation, what color you just painted your den, and so on. I do feel a little hypocritical on this blog because I do have facebook (although in all fairness I'm contemplating deleting it). I enjoy facebook because I like connecting with old friends-especially my Mississippi State buddies. That said, I'm still not sure facebook fits my life anymore. I'm not sure I want everyone to know what my kids look like and when I last sneezed (maybe it's not that detailed but give Mark Zuckerberg time...). I'm not positive that facebook isn't something meant more for the single and ready to mingle and less for me. I am positive that what the guy did on Rick & Bubba to the guy who propostioned his wife is similar to what my response might be if it happened in my marriage:).Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4258656537166356155.post-43247225544568194462011-01-13T14:08:00.000-08:002011-01-13T14:20:40.122-08:00I admit it...I fell off the blogging wagon and neglected my blog. Now with John and I expecting baby <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_0" class="blsp-spelling-error">Jeffcoat</span> this August, and the kids getting older (and funnier!) I figured I'd better get back to blogging.<br /><br />So far the spawn of John has left me gripping the toilet for the last 4 weeks. I am seeing a light at the end of the tunnel though and have been <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_1" class="blsp-spelling-corrected">successfully</span> keeping down food for the last 48 hours. This pregnancy is so different from when I was pregnant with Cooper, but then again my life is so different from when I was pregnant with Cooper.<br /><br />Cooper is a all grown-up now (or so he thinks...). He makes me laugh all the time and he makes me crazy all the time. He's really into Thomas (still) and he can play with his trains for hours. I'm pretty sure he will be an engineer like John when he grows up...just one that works on trains and not for <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_2" class="blsp-spelling-error">Trane</span>.<br /><br /><span id="SPELLING_ERROR_3" class="blsp-spelling-error">Jaylyn</span> is almost my height and gorgeous (I might be biased, but all my friends tell me all the time how pretty she is so I'm sure it's true). John and I both live in fear of the teen years that are sure to begin, but <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_4" class="blsp-spelling-error">Jaylyn</span> sure is fun right now. She is such a funny girl!<br /><br />There is my <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_5" class="blsp-spelling-corrected">catch</span>-up blog effort. I realize it was boring, but I had to catch-up before I could blog all the juicy stuff:-).Unknownnoreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4258656537166356155.post-58138335011544544612010-08-20T13:28:00.000-07:002010-08-20T14:18:13.783-07:00Ice Cream<blockquote><br /><p align="center"><br />Your love is better than ice cream</p><p align="center">Better then anything else that I've tried</p><p align="center">And your love is better than ice cream</p><p align="center">Everyone here knows how to fight</p><p align="center">-Sarah <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_0" class="blsp-spelling-error">McLachlan</span> <em>Ice Cream</em></p><p align="left">The above lyrics are from one of my favorite Sarah <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_1" class="blsp-spelling-error">McLachlan</span> songs. I use to love this song...it was on all my favorite cassettes and later on all my burned <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_2" class="blsp-spelling-error">cds</span>. I loved it, my friends loved it, my sister and I loved it until a guy I dated in college heard it. He turned to me and asked me if I loved him more than I loved ice cream. And I didn't. And I told him that. And then I quit listening to that song...especially around guys I was dating.</p><p align="left">In all fairness to this guy I LOVE ice cream. My love for ice cream started when I was younger and my mom would make homemade ice cream that would cause me extreme brain freeze because I would eat it too fast. My love for ice cream grew even more when I became a runner and realized I could eat anything I wanted without gaining weight (yes you can hate me now if you want). </p><p align="left">But what really <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_3" class="blsp-spelling-corrected">solidified</span> my love for ice cream was when a <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_4" class="blsp-spelling-error">Brusters</span> appeared a mile from my parent's house the summer after my sophomore year in college. It was love at first sight for me. That was the summer my sister taught me how to enjoy long runs so we would accomplish a 6-8 mile run and reward ourselves with ice cream. Around this time we discovered <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_5" class="blsp-spelling-error">Brusters</span> rain policy which is if it is raining you get a second scoop free. From that point forward that summer if we saw even a storm cloud we were headed to <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_6" class="blsp-spelling-error">Brusters</span>. Life was good that summer...</p><p align="left">I am also reminded when I think about ice cream of all the dinosaur kids sundaes at <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_7" class="blsp-spelling-error">Brusters</span> I took the boys I babysat for to get. Because no one really appreciates a meal centered around ice cream more then kids. Except for my kid...who hates ice cream. It makes no sense, but I still order Cooper ice cream everywhere we go so he can at least try it again. On a positive note it means double ice cream for me:-).</p><p align="left">So I didn't love that boy in college more than ice cream...I never loved any guy I dated more than ice cream. Except John. The one guy I will actually share my ice cream with. I'm pretty sure I never shared my ice cream with even my dad...but in all fairness I don't remember my dad ever sharing his ice cream with me either. Now that I think about it I think my whole family is made of ice <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_8" class="blsp-spelling-error">cream-aholics</span>!</p></blockquote>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4258656537166356155.post-43872306083535861522010-08-14T08:19:00.000-07:002010-08-14T08:55:54.624-07:00New Orleans Inspiration<div align="center"><br /></div><div align="left">Last weekend John and I went to New Orleans for a conference John had to attend. The first day we were there I ran on a treadmill assuming that Bourbon Street and New Orleans wasn't a safe place for me to run. That treadmill run was the longest of my life...a crappy treadmill set to make you view yourself in a mirror the whole run. The next morning as John and I set off for Cafe Du Monde (beignets...yum!) I saw a lady from our hotel leave to go running outside through New Orleans. I happened to run into her at the pool later and she convinced me that running through New Orleans in the morning was fine.<br /><br />So I did it and it was awesome. I started my run by going down Bourbon Street where, although it was 7am, some guys were coming out of the bar and they sang me the Rocky theme song. I then somehow found Canal Street and ran down there and planned all the shopping I was going to do later (poor John). I ended up back on Bourbon and went towards the River Walk and that is when my run received the title of "coolest run ever". Running by the river was spectacular, but what was really cool was on the way back looking at all the street performers before the tourists arrived. The guy who was spray painted head to toe in gold was making plans to go to the bar later with the local artist. The two guys dressed as transformers were buying coffee. All these people in crazy costumes were acting so normal...like planning to act as a statue all day was as normal as me going to work to teach.<br /><br />As I arrived back to my hotel I realized that the run I just went on was "Bucket List" material. How many people can say they ran Bourbon Street? I quickly came up with some more items I want to accomplish. I think my life is going to need 2 Bucket Lists. One for me to accomplish before I hit 50, and another one to accomplish between 50 and death. So here goes Bucket List One:<br /><br />1. Run Bourbon Street (accomplished!)<br />2. Sky dive (I know this would terrify me...)<br />3. See a Hawaiian sunset with my husband (hint hint John)<br />4. Surf (I'm positive with how uncoordinated I am I would injure myself but still I want to try!)<br />5. Run a half marathon<br />6. Go to Disneyland...the right way. Where you go for a whole week and do it ALL.<br />7. Get my masters in Elementary Education.<br />8. Be on a reality television show (because nothing says classy like reality television)<br />9. Go on a spa weekend.<br />10. Start a charity...I have a great plan for one that gives money to kids whose parents die without having a life insurance plan.<br />11. Successfully grow a garden.<br /><br />Have you made your Bucket List yet?</div><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 240px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5505294548293890210" border="0" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_b53TyEqDgGs/TGa8OS7zsKI/AAAAAAAAACo/XFHnQQ9dQSM/s320/DSCN0478.JPG" />Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4258656537166356155.post-56386504276038856082010-07-27T20:57:00.000-07:002010-07-27T21:08:41.556-07:00Mommy DearestMy son and I have a special bond. We are each other's world. Every night it is me he wants to put him to bed and he makes me promise that I will be the one who gets him up. He asks me all day long to play with him and if I can't he follows me room to room. He helps me make <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_0" class="blsp-spelling-error"><span id="SPELLING_ERROR_0" class="blsp-spelling-corrected">breakfast</span></span>, lunch, and dinner. He even helped me clean <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_1" class="blsp-spelling-error"><span id="SPELLING_ERROR_1" class="blsp-spelling-corrected">toilets</span></span> the other day. I think the picture below (made in a photo booth at Chuck E. Cheese) really sums up our close bond.<br /><p><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 242px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5498802738550827506" border="0" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_b53TyEqDgGs/TE-r9PFEafI/AAAAAAAAACg/sNCDSGTGGiE/s320/Chuck+e+Cheese_1.jpg" />Because really, if you can't bite your own Mother while she is innocently posing in front of the camera, who can you bite?</p><p>My two-year-<span id="SPELLING_ERROR_0" class="blsp-spelling-error">old</span>...the most frustrating person I've encountered so far and yet being his mom is my favorite job I've ever had. <br /></p>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4258656537166356155.post-63723432624354435782010-07-26T21:45:00.000-07:002010-07-26T22:15:18.718-07:00To Err is Human...Lately I've been feeling almost like I'm in a state of <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_0" class="blsp-spelling-corrected">mourning</span> for the people I've lost. Not really to death (I mourn those people in a different way), but for the people I've lost touch with. All for different reasons...moving, my immaturity at sustaining relationships, depression during and after pregnancy (sometimes I just wanted to be left alone), and bad decisions made on my part.<br /><br />I have learned that throughout the years no matter how remorseful you might be there are some relationships not meant to be fixed. There are people that did you wrong or that you did wrong in a way that can't be made right. There are people who you are not sure how to apologize to and so you continue missing them. There are many childhood friends that you lose touch with (however thanks to <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_1" class="blsp-spelling-error">facebook</span> it is getting easier to reconnect). And there are people out there (family included) who you might miss terribly, but they refuse to let you back in...and you might not ever understand why.<br /><br />To try to get myself out of this "funk" I've been feeling I try to stay positive and <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_2" class="blsp-spelling-corrected">remain</span> thankful for those who've stood by me. I have a best friend (and her family) that I have had my whole life. I have a CRAZY college friend who although she lives far away, I still stay in touch with regularly. I have some old track buddies I talk to (both from high school and college) and (once again thanks to <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_3" class="blsp-spelling-error">facebook</span>) I am able to communicate with almost everyone I graduated high school with (quite the <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_4" class="blsp-spelling-corrected">accomplishment</span> when you went to as big of a school as I did).<br /><br />I've also been trying to forgive. Forgive myself for any wrong doing I did people to make them think negatively of me. Forgive others for any wrong doing they might have done me. But mainly to forgive myself for bad decisions made in the past and promise myself to make wiser ones in the future. I try to make sure I am a good friend to everyone I meet, and I make sure to keep all commitments I make.<br /><br />Because in the end what good are words without actions to back them up?<br /><br /><div align="center"><em>"Forgiveness does not change the past, but it does enlarge the future." </em></div><div align="center"><em>-Paul Boese</em></div>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4258656537166356155.post-88725162263585229552010-07-08T19:01:00.000-07:002010-07-08T19:17:01.517-07:00Potty Training BluesI am slowly failing as a parent at potty training my child. This is especially ironic since as a preschool teacher nothing annoys me more then parents who don't potty train their child all the way then try and sneak them to my class in underwear...I think we all know how that ends.<br /><br />My fear is that the apple might not have fallen far from the tree. I actually remember being potty trained. For my non-parent friends I'm sure you don't understand why that is a bad thing. I remember being potty trained because I was well into my threes. I just couldn't give up my Mickey Mouse diapers and wouldn't until I was out shopping with my mom and we found Mickey Mouse underwear...I remember it vividly (It was in <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_0" class="blsp-spelling-error">Boaz</span> at the outlets).<br /><br />I have tried everything: candy for going potty, cheering him on, reading books about potty training, pull-ups (which I hate), and even just throwing him on underwear and hoping for the best. My child actually begged my mom to put his diaper on him when we tried underwear. It's <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_1" class="blsp-spelling-corrected">official</span>, my child is going to college with a box of Pampers. Well I guess it will actually be Depends by then.<br /><br />The strange thing is I'm not sure why Cooper not potty training seems like a personal failure of mine? <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_2" class="blsp-spelling-corrected">Every time</span> he uses the bathroom I feel great <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_3" class="blsp-spelling-corrected">success</span> and every wet or dirty diaper feels like I have failed. Maybe I feel like I am failing because when I tell other Moms my problem they are quick to tell me how their child uses the potty now and how they did it and it was so easy. Or maybe it's because my own mother scolded me tonight for him not potty training...like I am not allowing Cooper to use it.<br /><br />So as Cooper and I enter the 5<span id="SPELLING_ERROR_4" class="blsp-spelling-error">th</span> month we've tried potty training I hope that this is going to be his big break through. That this month he is going to decide to use the bathroom. And if not I guess he can use the money he gets for graduating high school to buy his on diapers in college.Unknownnoreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4258656537166356155.post-8723544632106136372010-07-06T22:09:00.000-07:002010-07-07T17:21:58.927-07:00Hanging with Mr. CooperSo I stole my blog title from a show I watched in the 90's. I actually did not name my child after it, but a girl I worked with at Spa <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_0" class="blsp-spelling-error">Moksha</span> constantly sang the title song to me while I was pregnant and even now asks me how's Mr. Cooper. Oh how I miss my spa friends...it's like having your own <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_1" class="blsp-spelling-corrected">sorority</span> except that group of girls could make my face look clear, my back feel awesome, and give me free manicures and pedicures. But oh how I digress...<br /><br /><br />Life with Cooper this summer has been interesting to say the least. We are in the middle of what I fear may not only be the "terrible twos", but might follow into the "terrible threes". This summer he has discovered a whole vocabulary of words that make me cringe...it's strange how even the word "shut-up" sounds vulgar when a two-year-old says it. He has discovered how fun it is to use his sister as a punching bag...especially since she doesn't hit back (trust me I encourage her to hit/bite/hair pull back...how else will he know it hurts? She just won't do it!). And he has decided to hit any grown-up who isn't following his orders. Great...just what I was hoping for, a two-year-old wanna be ninja for a son.<br /><br /><br />But he has <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_2" class="blsp-spelling-error">also</span> learned to tell me he loves me without me having to get him to say it. He has learned how to kiss and hug me when he knows he's pushed me too far. He's learned how to snuggle me just right, and he's learned how to tell me this time he really is going to behave right before he gets a spanking. Basically my son has learned how to be a guy. He reminds me of a boyfriend who treats his girlfriend like crap and then right when she is about to leave him he swoops in, kisses her, tells her he loves her, promises to do better next time, and so she stays with him. Maybe I am in an abusive relationship with my two-year-old-ha!<br /><br /><br />Either way <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_3" class="blsp-spelling-error">fortunally</span> for Cooper I have an unconditional love for him so I won't be trying to leave him anytime soon and truthfully he does do as much good as bad-it just isn't as fun to blog about!<br /><br /><br />So onto my story...4 days ago I left Cooper playing with his train table while I ran upstairs and got a "Mommy shower". Confused at what a "Mommy shower" is versus a regular shower? A "Mommy shower" is a 3 minute shower where you wash hair, condition hair, lather down, rinse, and get out of shower. Compare this to my old 25 minute showers where I walk away relaxed <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_4" class="blsp-spelling-error">and</span> feeling good and you get the picture. So I come out of my "Mommy shower" in time to do my Mommy getting ready routine which basically lets me accomplish getting completely ready in 7 minutes (yes I've timed it).<br /><br /><br />While in the middle of blowing my hair dry Cooper comes into the bathroom and he looks so excited. I put the hair dryer down to hear Cooper begging me to come downstairs and see <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_5" class="blsp-spelling-error">his</span> toys. He has never asked me to do this and I am curious as to what he wants to show me so I take his hand and let him lead me downstairs. I am all prepared to walk into toy room when we take an unexpected right turn into the half bath. He then leads me to the <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_6" class="blsp-spelling-corrected">toilet</span> where I am met with this:<img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 240px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 320px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5491033320966613810" border="0" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_b53TyEqDgGs/TDQRtnIMazI/AAAAAAAAACY/dUqWy7l2dP4/s320/Wow.jpg" /><br /><br /><p>For those of you wondering that is a <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_7" class="blsp-spelling-error">sippy</span> cup (still full!), 4 trains, 17 alphabet letters, the DVD remote (still works!), and a few other random things. To top it all off he was trying to flush it. At this point in the story I have been asked by many, "What did you do?". I did the only thing I could think of-I got out my iPhone and took a picture. I then went searching for gloves to fish all the toys out and then had a talk with Cooper about why we don't put toys in the toilet. In all fairness to him I had never told him not to...I just assumed it was self explanatory! At this point I was a little upset...I hadn't really planned that day to get toys out of a toliet, do some plumbing, and disenfect toys, but my little Romeo stood beside me the whole time kissing me, hugging me, and telling me was sorry. Just like a guy...apologizing while he watches me do all the work;-).</p><p>Living with a two-year-old is many things, but dull is not one of them!</p>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4258656537166356155.post-30439161952556460192010-06-22T08:21:00.000-07:002010-06-22T08:45:20.915-07:00Belly Button Rings=My Youth?I am 26-years-old...not old at all, but out of my "fun" early twenties. However, while I am only 26, I feel like I am an old 26. A lot of my friends are not married, have no kids, are even still in school. Yet I am married, I have an almost 3-year-old, a 10-year-old step daughter, I graduated from college now 4 years ago, and my <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_0" class="blsp-spelling-corrected">career</span> is a preschool teacher. In my free time I wash clothes, clean house, carpool, go to parks, and cook dinners...and I sometimes find time to go running. I sometimes feel like my life resembles a 30/40-year-old and not a 26-year-old.<br /><br />So I find ways to hang on to my youth. I stay the same size I was at 20, I still go to the tanning bed once every two weeks (begin the lectures), I color my hair every 6 weeks (I have <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_1" class="blsp-spelling-corrected">made</span> my hair dresser swear to never tell me when my hair goes grey/white), I wear <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_2" class="blsp-spelling-corrected">ridiculously</span> short shorts (I debated this one but the husband requested they stay), AND I still have my belly button pierced from when I was 18 and snuck and got it done.<br /><br />That's right-I am a belly button pierced Mom and preschool <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_3" class="blsp-spelling-corrected">teacher</span>. And I like it.<br /><br />Recently I had surgery and was asked if I had any more metal on me. I said no until John pointed out my belly button ring was still in-I had forgotten I even had it. It has become more of a part of my body after 8 years then an accessory. I took it off, handed it to John, and he lost it. I think he did it on purpose. When I brought it up 5 days later (once the pain killer fog lifted) he told me he didn't want me to wear it anymore. It didn't seem like a bad request so I agreed and moved on.<br /><br />Then last week while John was out-of-town, I decided to surprise him and clean out his car for him, wash it, and vacuum it...quite the job if you've seen his car! While cleaning it I found my belly button ring in his car door. After thinking about it for a few minutes I decided not wearing it was like giving up my big rebel move of my youth when I turned 18 and snuck and got it pierced. A piece of my youth I am not willing to give up yet. So I slipped it back in and made the deal with myself that I will wear it as long as my stomach is still flat. Pending that body change, I will take it out. Until then I will hold on to one of the few things that reminds me I am ONLY 26:-).Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4258656537166356155.post-15754898458334901422010-06-21T18:37:00.001-07:002010-06-21T19:09:39.759-07:00My advice at 26-years-oldI was talking to one of my long time friends (we've known each other 12 years) the other day. We were "discussing" (okay <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_0" class="blsp-spelling-error"><span id="SPELLING_ERROR_0" class="blsp-spelling-corrected">maybe</span></span> gossiping) about a mutual friend who recently divorced. She actually dated the guy longer then she was married (I can breathe a sigh of relief, I hit that benchmark month 5 of my marriage-ha!). The friend I was talking to will be tying the knot pretty soon and I instantly assured her that marriage was the opposite of what our other friend made it out to be. Marriage is a blast. And I truly mean that.<br /><br />When I met John I knew I had met my match. I fell in love quick and hard and was married on August 1st, 2008...5 months after our first date. I have never thought I made too hasty of a decision (although I'm sure some thought we were) and I am married to my best friend. Cheesy but true. I told my friend all this and could tell she was glad to hear it. I believe in marriage. I believe in my <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_1" class="blsp-spelling-error"><span id="SPELLING_ERROR_1" class="blsp-spelling-corrected">marriage</span></span>. And I believe that being married has made my life completely <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_2" class="blsp-spelling-error"><span id="SPELLING_ERROR_2" class="blsp-spelling-corrected">fulfilled</span></span>. I'm positive many do great single (I did before I met John), but I believe life would be lonely if I had never met my husband.<br /><br />That said we then moved on to the topic of babies (after doing some random catching up gossip...typical girls!). Another one of our mutual friends who we have known almost as long as each other is pregnant (and another testimony to being in a happy marriage). I was so excited for her and found myself campaigning for my friend who hasn't even gotten married yet to hurry up and get pregnant (I blame it on working for the Birmingham diocese!).<br /><br />Considering I have been married a whole 21 months and I considered myself the marriage expert surely I could dispense a <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_3" class="blsp-spelling-error"><span id="SPELLING_ERROR_3" class="blsp-spelling-corrected">compelling</span></span> argument for birthing a child; I've been a mom 33 months (note the <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_4" class="blsp-spelling-error"><span id="SPELLING_ERROR_4" class="blsp-spelling-corrected">sarcasm</span></span>)!<br /><br />To explain my argument for being a Mom I must first tell you some about my day. I had told my friend that for me (others might differ) one of the biggest benefits is getting to relive your childhood (this is especially true because I take the kids to the same zoo, parks, and so on that I grew-up with because I live where I grew-up). Today <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_5" class="blsp-spelling-error"><span id="SPELLING_ERROR_5" class="blsp-spelling-error">Jaylyn</span></span> and I took Cooper to my church for a 2 hour cooking class (I can only imagine what it was like-it was for ages 2-5...they are so brave). We left Cooper and went to the new Treetop Family Adventure. Where $20 later we had played enough arcade games to win 450 tickets and go bowling. Now don't be fooled. I was not sitting there watching as <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_6" class="blsp-spelling-error"><span id="SPELLING_ERROR_6" class="blsp-spelling-error">Jaylyn</span></span> played in the arcade. I was playing every game she was and I had a great time doing it.<br /><br />We then picked up Cooper (who told me he had "made dinner"...so cute!) and went grocery shopping (blah) and came home. The kids and I laid down and watched the movie "UP" (another perk to having kids...you get to watch all the cute kid movies) and then ran some errands. Cooper went <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_7" class="blsp-spelling-error"><span id="SPELLING_ERROR_7" class="blsp-spelling-corrected">down</span></span> for a nap, I cleaned house, and then <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_8" class="blsp-spelling-error"><span id="SPELLING_ERROR_8" class="blsp-spelling-error">Jaylyn</span></span> left for her mom's house. When Cooper <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_9" class="blsp-spelling-error"><span id="SPELLING_ERROR_9" class="blsp-spelling-corrected">woke</span></span>-up he requested snuggle time (which I gladly gave) and he told me how much he loved me, how he was Mommy's boy (not Daddy's boy), and gave me kisses. Then I remembered one thing I forgot to tell my friend...that having a child is great because for all you do for them, you get it all back when they kiss you and tell you they love you.<br /><br />Now don't get me wrong, I am not disillusioned. Will John and I have fights? Yes. Will Cooper and <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_10" class="blsp-spelling-error"><span id="SPELLING_ERROR_10" class="blsp-spelling-error">Jaylyn</span></span> make me crazy as they get older? I'm sure they will. Will other problems arise that will never make it on this blog? <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_11" class="blsp-spelling-error"><span id="SPELLING_ERROR_11" class="blsp-spelling-corrected">Most</span></span> <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_12" class="blsp-spelling-error"><span id="SPELLING_ERROR_12" class="blsp-spelling-corrected">definitely</span></span>. Do I feel blessed and know that John and I will walk through this world hand in hand dealing with whatever comes up? You better believe it (unless our hands start to sweat and then I might walk beside him instead).<br /><br />Moral of the story to my friend of 12 years (who I'm sure will read this blog)-get married, reproduce, and enjoy life;-). Oh and I am <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_13" class="blsp-spelling-error"><span id="SPELLING_ERROR_13" class="blsp-spelling-error">sooo</span></span> ready to sing at your wedding...Celine Dion here I come!Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4258656537166356155.post-46417008022141765222010-06-10T06:47:00.000-07:002010-06-10T07:23:52.537-07:00Oh What a Morning...<span style="color:#ffffff;">Last night John and I discussed babies...as of this morning I am canceling our discussion from last night on. Why? Read on...<br /><br />My morning so far:<br />5:51 am-Cooper who normally sleeps until 7:45 or later <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_0" class="blsp-spelling-corrected">crawls into</span> our bed...wide awake<br />6:00 am-After listening to John tell him to be quiet I give in <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_0" class="blsp-spelling-corrected">realizing</span> my face <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_1" class="blsp-spelling-corrected">is throbbing</span> anyways (I am only 2 weeks post surgery, 4 weeks to go). I get up, change his diaper, and make the requested chocolate milk (aka chalky)<br />6:10 am- TV is requested. I see an <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_1" class="blsp-spelling-corrected">opportunity</span> to turn the <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_2" class="blsp-spelling-corrected">TV</span> on and meet my husband back in bed. He wants Thomas the train so I put that on. Wait he doesn't want Thomas. He wants Cars. I put that on. Wait, no he wants <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_3" class="blsp-spelling-error"><span id="SPELLING_ERROR_2" class="blsp-spelling-error"><span id="SPELLING_ERROR_0" class="blsp-spelling-error">Shrek</span></span></span>, which is still in my purse from taking it Grandparents. I locate my purse and put <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_4" class="blsp-spelling-error"><span id="SPELLING_ERROR_3" class="blsp-spelling-error"><span id="SPELLING_ERROR_1" class="blsp-spelling-error">Shrek</span></span></span> on. No <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_5" class="blsp-spelling-corrected">never mind</span> King Cooper wants Cars <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_6" class="blsp-spelling-corrected">after all</span> so I put that on and run (actually sprint) out of the room before a new request is made.<br />6:20am- Back in bed to find husband playing on IPhone NOT asleep. I try to fall back asleep as he decides to try to talk.<br />6:30am-Cooper comes into the run and wakes me up to tell me he wants to now watch <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_7" class="blsp-spelling-error"><span id="SPELLING_ERROR_4" class="blsp-spelling-error"><span id="SPELLING_ERROR_2" class="blsp-spelling-error">Flinstones</span></span></span> in his room and needs me to do it. I get up and set it up...not even bothering to walk downstairs and turn off Cars. During this time husband escapes to computer downstairs.<br />6:40am-Cooper decides to crawl in bed with me and wants to watch <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_8" class="blsp-spelling-corrected">TV</span> in my room. Awesome. Somehow I find Sprout and once again try to fall asleep and ignore my throbbing face.<br />7:00am- Cooper runs into the kid's bathroom where John has decided to shower to remind John not to play with any of his toys. A lesson on sharing begins (for the record John was not playing with his toys).<br />7:10am-John leaves for work. Kisses me goodbye. Cooper refuses to kiss then chases John down the hall begging him to kiss him.<br />7:15am-Cooper begins crying because John forgot to hug him. I hand him a teddy bear to cheer him up. I give up on sleep. The Wiggles are on so I opt to read a book on parenting by Alex <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_9" class="blsp-spelling-error"><span id="SPELLING_ERROR_5" class="blsp-spelling-error"><span id="SPELLING_ERROR_3" class="blsp-spelling-error">McCord</span></span></span> of Real <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_10" class="blsp-spelling-corrected">Housewives</span> fame. I always like to read a book on parenting so I can block out my own child. Nice.<br />7:30am-Cooper begins tossing his bear in the air and catching it right beside me. Bear hits me in the face. The same face broken in 4places. I cry. Cooper is scared. He stops throwing bear.<br />7:35am-Cooper wants my attention. To achieve his goal teddy bear hits me in my face. Teddy Bear gets put in top drawer of chest of drawers. John gets <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_12" class="blsp-spelling-error">called </span>but can't hear me over two-year-old screaming. I cry some more in pain. John <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_13" class="blsp-spelling-corrected">comforts</span>, tells me <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_14" class="blsp-spelling-corrected">to</span> beat said two-year-old, and lets me go.<br />7:40am-I give bear back to end crying and talk about throwing and hitting Mommy in the face.<br />7:50am-Bear hits me in the face. I cry. Bear is now dead. I get a diet coke, take two <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_15" class="blsp-spelling-corrected">Advil</span> (I'm alone with the two-year-old so pain killers are out), and lay back down with child.<br />7:55am-Cooper asks for some coke. I let him have a sip. He spits it all over bedroom floor. Great. 8:00am-I give up. I put Dora on <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_16" class="blsp-spelling-corrected">TV</span> and try to escape to shower. Two-year-old follows and sits in the bathroom with me while I shower. He turns lights on and off, finds my hair brush, and uses it as a drumstick on my <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_17" class="blsp-spelling-corrected">toilet</span>, shower door, wall, floor, etc. Of course I can't yell because of broken face.<br />8:05am-Take away hair brush. Redirect Cooper to Dora. Get ready. My mom calls. I try to stay calm so she doesn't worry.<br />8:15am-Get Cooper <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_18" class="blsp-spelling-corrected">breakfast</span>. He sees Cars from earlier and wants Mater and the <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_19" class="blsp-spelling-corrected">Ghost light</span>. Turn that on. Check e-mail.<br />8:30am-After restarting Mater twice (It's only 7 minutes long) Cooper wants more food. Get more food.<br />8:35-Kill the bug that has Cooper crying.<br />8:40am-Clean up more spit out diet coke that Cooper found.<br />8:45am-Clean up from Cooper's breakfast.<br />8:55am-Cooper starts playing with trains. He is <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_20" class="blsp-spelling-corrected">definitely</span> pooping in his diaper. I ignore this fact and decide cleaning up poop (in his diaper) is worth getting 15 minutes free (Cooper has to be alone to poop).<br />9:00am-Take to blog to vent and scare all my child-less and pregnant friends.<br />9:09am-Feel mildly better. Getting ready to change poop diaper. Hoping face doesn't get kicked. Waiting for Becca to get here to help.</span>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4258656537166356155.post-30504220845176634752010-05-21T06:30:00.000-07:002010-05-21T07:08:51.326-07:00The Mouth of a Two-Year-Old<div align="center"><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 240px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 320px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5473722353090574402" border="0" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_b53TyEqDgGs/S_aReqcUOEI/AAAAAAAAACI/ovV_WYYIKmQ/s320/Cooper+First+Halloween.jpg" />My sweet baby only 6-weeks-old (October 2007)<br /><br /><br /><div align="left">For all 8 of my "followers" (who are mostly family) I thought you would like to hear some of the funny things Cooper is saying. </div><div align="left"></div><div align="left">- <strong><span style="color:#ffccff;">"I no do that."</span></strong> What he says to get out of anything he doesn't want to do.</div><div align="left">- <strong><span style="color:#ffccff;">"I just want to behave!"</span></strong> What he says to try and get out of a spanking or time out.</div><div align="left">- <strong><span style="color:#ffccff;">"My <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_0" class="blsp-spelling-error">doggie</span> is E-O."</span></strong> His name for Oreo.</div><div align="left">-<span style="color:#ffccff;"> <strong>"I want to give <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_1" class="blsp-spelling-error">doggie</span> a walk."</strong></span> Almost everyday he walks Oreo a mile.</div><div align="left">- <strong><span style="color:#ffccff;">"Granddaddy <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_2" class="blsp-spelling-corrected">aggravates</span> me."</span></strong> I think <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_3" class="blsp-spelling-error">Grandmommy</span> taught him that one!</div><div align="left">-<span style="color:#ffccff;"> <strong>"I want to go to <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_4" class="blsp-spelling-error">Grandmommy's</span> house and play with Granddaddy.</strong>"</span> Because in Cooper's mind women own the house men live in. He also tells me he want to go to Mommy's house and see Daddy.</div><div align="left">- <strong><span style="color:#ffccff;">"I'm not funny!"</span></strong> Oh yes you are Cooper.</div><div align="left">- <strong><span style="color:#ffccff;">"<span id="SPELLING_ERROR_5" class="blsp-spelling-error">Wov</span> you too Mommy."</span></strong> Cooper's version on love...and I love it:-)</div><div align="left">-<strong><span style="color:#000099;"> </span><span style="color:#ffccff;">"Mommy I hold you."</span></strong> Code for pick me up Mommy, I'm tired!</div><div align="left">-<span style="color:#ffccff;"> <strong>"Can I snuggle you a second?"</strong></span> Everything use to be '5 more minutes'; now he wants everything for a second. <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_6" class="blsp-spelling-corrected">Unfortunately</span> snuggle sessions only last a few seconds.</div><div align="left">-<span style="color:#ffccff;"> <strong>"I want 5 minutes!"</strong></span> He says this to delay naps, bed time, dinner, etc. Taught to him by <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_7" class="blsp-spelling-error">Jaylyn</span>.</div><div align="left">- <strong><span style="color:#ffccff;">"I want a sucker-it."</span></strong> Cooper adds the "T" sound to a lot of his words<br />- <strong><span style="color:#ffccff;">"We go to the cookie store and I be good."</span></strong> The cookie store is code for <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_8" class="blsp-spelling-error">Publix</span>...where they know my child by name and have his cookie ready before we can even walk over there. </div><div align="left">- <span style="color:#ffccff;">"<strong>The floor hit me. It's in time out."</strong></span> The table, wall, chair, and bed also hit him a lot and have to go to time out. </div><div align="left">- <strong><span style="color:#ffccff;">"It's scary...I think there's a <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_9" class="blsp-spelling-error">monstert</span>."</span></strong> Again with the 'T' sound at the end of a word. <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_10" class="blsp-spelling-corrected">Apparently</span> monsters live in his room at night (they also live in my closet sometimes).</div><br /><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 237px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 320px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5473723450475781762" border="0" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_b53TyEqDgGs/S_aSeihVnoI/AAAAAAAAACQ/lyDod-BrB00/s320/20+Cooper+-+Serious+G.jpg" />My now 2 and 1/2-year-old (Feb. 2010)<br /></div>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4258656537166356155.post-69380044245076225812010-05-18T19:54:00.001-07:002010-05-18T20:11:06.769-07:00Lists, Lists, and More Lists!7 days until <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_0" class="blsp-spelling-error">JB</span>-Day. What does "<span id="SPELLING_ERROR_1" class="blsp-spelling-error">JB</span>" stand for? Jaw breaking day. Everyone get their drinks ready it's going to be a party...oh wait, not so much.<br /><br />So I <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_2" class="blsp-spelling-corrected">officially</span> have 7 days until I begin my 6-8 week mending period and you would think I would be enjoying all the things I will miss during that time like snuggling with Cooper, running, spending time with my family, eating solid foods...yet instead I am crying like a baby <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_3" class="blsp-spelling-corrected">every night because I'm</span> scared out of my mind, I'm being short with John because my nerves are so shot, I'm eating cookies (my comfort food), and making lists. LOTS of lists.<br /><br />Today I made a list about the trash days (like John doesn't already know). This turned into a list about watering flowers, washing clothes (detailed to the point of how much detergent to use), and how to run the dishwasher. As if that wasn't enough I found myself making detailed list on dust moping and sharking (steam cleaning) my hardwood floors, how to clean bathrooms, where the various 100 cleaners I use are located, how to clean out the <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_4" class="blsp-spelling-corrected">refrigerator</span> (I'm not kidding), what cleaner to use in the kitchen (trust me John already knows), and how to iron. As if that wasn't enough I went back to the list to give detailed instructions on how to press the button every day on our automatic shower cleaner. Seriously.<br /><br />It's <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_5" class="blsp-spelling-corrected">official</span>-I'm losing it (or might have already lost it!).<br /><br />So of course this is exactly what every man wants to be greeted with when they come home from the office. A crazy wife who can't stop eating cookies handing him a mile long list. Of course he didn't read it (because he knows how to do it!), but I felt better knowing the list was made. SO I sat down and made another list...this list is a list of all the things I need to make list about before my surgery.<br /><br />Anyone want to wife swap now??? Ha!<br /><br />On top of all that I just realized the Biggest Loser finale is the same day as my surgery...I have a feeling I'm going to miss that one. I think I better go make a list about who I think will win!Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4258656537166356155.post-67731158940781608832010-05-15T20:00:00.000-07:002010-05-15T20:17:27.597-07:00$10,000<span id="SPELLING_ERROR_0" class="blsp-spelling-error">Jaylyn</span> and I were watching Biggest Loser Tuesday when Darius won $10,000. He then had the choice to keep the money or get a one pound advantage on the weigh-in. As <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_1" class="blsp-spelling-error">Jaylyn</span> and I waited to see what he would do we talked about what we would do with $10,000. Here is what I came up with...of course in my mind I was not thinking about taxes:<br /><br />-Choice One: Pay off the Malibu and one of John's student loans (responsible)<br />-Choice Two: Pay off Malibu and then trade it in and apply the rest of the money to a new car (semi-responsible)<br />-Choice Three: Buy new living room, den, and master bedroom furniture (not so responsible since we already have furniture)<br />-Choice Four: GO SHOPPING (like John would ever let that happen-ha!)<br /><br />Then <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_2" class="blsp-spelling-error">Jaylyn</span> started coming up with her idea. I preface this by saying that <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_3" class="blsp-spelling-error">Jaylyn</span> has almost no concept of money. If I told her our house payment was $100 she would believe it and think that $100 is a lot to pay a month. She very rarely has to use her own money to buy anything, and has yet to really learn about managing money. On the flip side she very rarely asks us to buy anything for her.<br /><br />So what did she come up with (I'm sure you are all on the edge of your seats...)?<br /><br />She told me if she had $10,000 she would buy 7 dogs and chocolate chips. I loved it. What a great innocent answer. Not Justin <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_4" class="blsp-spelling-error">Bieber</span> tickets, not a Hannah Montana looking wardrobe, not a big screen <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_5" class="blsp-spelling-corrected">TV</span>, and not anything that made me cringe. Just 7 dogs and chocolate chips...and never did she give a thought to whose house would host these seven dogs! Thank God Jaylyn is still so innocent:-).<br /><br />Since Tuesday I have changed my mind about what I would do with $10,000 if I won it on Biggest Loser (although I think my chances of making it on Biggest Loser are small). I would landscape my backyard and paint my shutters and get a new front door. I am always making big plans for this house:-).Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4258656537166356155.post-25203872903565346802010-05-06T17:04:00.000-07:002010-05-06T17:18:17.382-07:0019 days...but who's counting?19 more days until I get both my upper and lower jaw bone broken and reset. Sound fun anyone? I am <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_0" class="blsp-spelling-corrected">absolutely</span> terrified.<br /><br />For awhile I would <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_1" class="blsp-spelling-corrected">YouTube</span> video search people who had documented their similar surgery. Big mistake. I had nightmares until finally John forbid me from watching anymore videos (and we all know I do everything he says-ha!). Now I find myself thinking about the surgery all the time. Trying to tell myself it will be fine, I'll recover quicker then anyone else ever has...and then I remember the all liquid diet I will be on for 6-8 weeks. The same diet that most people lose 15-20 pounds on (heavier people 30-50) and then I almost fall apart again...<span id="SPELLING_ERROR_2" class="blsp-spelling-error">mainly</span> because I am terrified of how my body will react if I lose 15-20 pounds...putting me anywhere between 85-90 pounds at 5'4. Gross.<br /><br />And then there is my precious two-year-old who won't understand why Mommy can't hold him-if he touches my face or hits my jaw it could mess everything up and well, hurt! Cooper and I do everything together and for a little while Cooper will be doing everything with John, <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_3" class="blsp-spelling-error">my mom</span>, and my dad. Not exactly how I like to parent.<br /><br />So everyone pray on May 25<span id="SPELLING_ERROR_4" class="blsp-spelling-error">th</span> I make it okay (because of course I am also terrified of being put to sleep and not waking up). And if anyone wants to come make me milk shakes or smoothies (that have to fed through a syringe because I can't suck a straw) I'm sure John will be willing to turn me over to your care...because what my husband doesn't know yet is I'm a horrible patient. There is a reason my mom volunteered to watch Cooper and not me:-).Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4258656537166356155.post-43570516932789209462010-04-28T14:13:00.000-07:002010-04-28T14:37:28.485-07:00To have, or not to have...that is the question<blockquote>If you want to make God laugh, tell Him your plans." -Woody Allen</blockquote><br /><br />I love being a Mom. I love being a Mom and <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_0" class="blsp-spelling-corrected">step mom</span>. I love it so much that thinking about my two favorite mini people can make me smile when things are going bad. I love it to the point I miss Cooper 5 seconds after I drop him off at school. If I don't get <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_1" class="blsp-spelling-error">Jaylyn</span> from school I catch myself wondering how her day went. These two kids are the center of my world and I plan my days around their schedules.<br /><br />But I think 2 might be enough...maybe.<br /><br />Before I go into it I know what people think (people being my husband). I know that sometimes the best planners get surprised with babies (I of all people know this). I know that God will give me more if that is what he plans. I know this...yet still I can't stop thinking, planning, and trying to decide.<br /><br />I also know that people who don't know me or my family very well think that perhaps I shouldn't count my step daughter in the "how many kids I have" category (one rude person at my work said this to me recently and I was not <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_2" class="blsp-spelling-corrected">amused</span>). They would be very wrong. I realize she is only mine by marriage, but that doesn't mean I don't have unconditional love for her. It doesn't mean I don't worry about her. And I never mind doing "parent" things with her. In my mind, while I might be "just the step mom" (although evil I'm not), she is not "just my step daughter". So she counts as me having two kids...even better I didn't have to gain 20 pounds to have her in my life or change any diapers!<br /><br />So right now I have in my life what I call manageable chaos. Meaning, with only two kids schedules to worry about, and only having one kid active in sports, John and I can manage everything without losing our minds. Throw another kid in the mix and it won't be so easy. It will be back to lots of naps, bottles, burping cloths, and so on. And we are <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_3" class="blsp-spelling-error">soooo</span> close to being done with diapers...do we really want to sign back up?<br /><br />There are many other factors weighing the decision that seems to make it easier to stop now and count our blessings that we have the two we have. There is the cost of another child, the fact that we would lose our spare bedroom that is a playroom right now, and more personal reasons.<br /><br />But then there is John's cousin who is pregnant. It makes me want <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_4" class="blsp-spelling-error">to</span> cry <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_5" class="blsp-spelling-corrected">every time</span> I see her baby bump as I remember having my own child inside me. And then I see newborns all the time at work and want to stop everything, pick them up, and remember how good a newborn baby feels snuggled up to your shoulder. And smell the sweet baby smell. And I tear up some as I think that this is something I might never experience again...<br /><br />Then I come home and some days my two-year-old is acting possessed and I tear up, thinking this is something I may experience again?!?<br /><br />Isn't it every woman's right to be <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_6" class="blsp-spelling-corrected">indecisive</span>?Unknownnoreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4258656537166356155.post-26763575570368663692010-04-25T06:35:00.000-07:002010-04-25T14:31:11.200-07:00I Want To Get Away...<div align="left">Last weekend John and I took a break from life and went on a long weekend (I actually got him to take a Friday off work!) to Tennessee. I wanted to stay in <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_0" class="blsp-spelling-corrected">Chattanooga</span>, but John wanted to stay in a more out of the way location so we picked <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_1" class="blsp-spelling-error">Monteagle</span>, TN and prepared for a "romantic" weekend. </div><div align="left"> </div><div align="left"></div><div align="left"></div><div align="center"></div><div align="left">Of course there was the guilt factor. I would have to be away from Cooper for 4 days/3 nights; even though it was <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_2" class="blsp-spelling-error">Jaylyn's</span> weekend to be at her mom's house we would still miss soccer games, and I would have to get someone to substitute for my class when we are already short numbered at work due to people on maternity leave. Still, we needed to get away and so we set off Thursday at 2:00 to try and remember what it's like to sleep-in (for the record I was awake before 7:00 every day), to get to eat at <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_3" class="blsp-spelling-corrected">restaurants</span> without a two-year-old crying, and to enter the world of housekeeping (my favorite part) and room service.</div><div align="center"><br /></div><div align="left">On Friday morning we set off for <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_4" class="blsp-spelling-error">Lynchburg</span>, TN so we could tour Jack Daniel's distillery and explore the town. As you can see, John and I got to take pictures with Jack:</div><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 240px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5464072121008974658" border="0" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_b53TyEqDgGs/S9RIpOfa60I/AAAAAAAAABg/PokfxRvyWqQ/s320/DSCN0193.JPG" /> The tour was so much fun and was both of our favorite thing we did the whole trip. The town of <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_5" class="blsp-spelling-error">Lynchburg</span> was not really our thing seeing as how we aren't big on antiquing or motorcycles, but I did love the ice cream parlor! We didn't buy any whiskey because <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_6" class="blsp-spelling-error">Lynchburg</span> is a dry town, but we did try whiskey ice cream.<br /><br />Once we drove back to <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_7" class="blsp-spelling-error">Monteagle</span> we hit up the winery (where we purchased yummy blackberry <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_8" class="blsp-spelling-error">wine</span> that has now all been drank). Once we got done there we decided to go see <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_9" class="blsp-spelling-error">Sewanee's</span> natural bridge. This is when we discovered John is not the only one scared of heights. For the first time ever I was terrified. I think I was so <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_10" class="blsp-spelling-corrected">scared</span> <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_11" class="blsp-spelling-corrected">because</span> we were so high up with no railing or anything and I am so <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_12" class="blsp-spelling-corrected">clumsy</span> (example-I feel down the stairs at <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_13" class="blsp-spelling-error">McWane</span> center yesterday). It was beautiful though and worth risking my life for:<br /><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 240px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5464074192518695906" border="0" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_b53TyEqDgGs/S9RKhzd0y-I/AAAAAAAAABo/3tRDqvXF29c/s320/DSCN0207.JPG" />This is John on the bridge and me at the bottom taking the picture. He tried to get one of me like that, but there was no way I was going on the bridge without him holding my hand!<br /><br />On Saturday we went to hit up the town of Chattanooga (big time Mommy guilt as we went to a town known for trains and my train loving two-year-old wasn't with us). We went to so many places this day. We started at the Chattanooga <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_14" class="blsp-spelling-error">Choo</span>-<span id="SPELLING_ERROR_15" class="blsp-spelling-error">Choo</span> so I could buy Cooper a new train and <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_16" class="blsp-spelling-error">Jaylyn</span> a t-shirt. Next we drove to Rock City. Rock City was such a neat place with LOTS of great views. We had a blast there...my favorite was "Fat Man's Squeeze.<br /><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 240px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5464076048065724226" border="0" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_b53TyEqDgGs/S9RMNz6tf0I/AAAAAAAAABw/hf-slPkmnmY/s320/DSCN0231.JPG" /> <p align="center">Don't worry everyone, we made it through!<br /><br /></p><div align="center"></div><div align="left">Next up was lunch (at <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_17" class="blsp-spelling-corrected">Guthries</span>...we went all the way to Tennessee so we could eat at a <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_18" class="blsp-spelling-corrected">restaurant</span> we live 4 miles from in Birmingham). Then we headed to Ruby Falls. We walked in an underground cave for about a half mile, saw the falls, and then walked a mile back. Not the best idea I've had with me having claustrophobia, but it really was beautiful and romantic:-).</div><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 240px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 320px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5464078080677718546" border="0" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_b53TyEqDgGs/S9ROEH_LKhI/AAAAAAAAAB4/AcZZgTXqI-Q/s320/DSCN0263.JPG" /> While in Chattanooga we also got to have a movie date (something you don't do very much when you have kids). And we went to an art show at Chattanooga's River Walk. It made me <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_19" class="blsp-spelling-corrected">wish</span> Birmingham had a River Walk, but I guess first we would need a river going through the city...<br /><br /><div align="left"></div><div align="left">On <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_20" class="blsp-spelling-corrected">Sunday</span> we went to <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_21" class="blsp-spelling-error">Monteagle's</span> Flea Market and then decided to head home. When we got back to Birmingham, Cooper had a surprise for us! He had learned to pedal a bike!<img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 240px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5464079210790879074" border="0" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_b53TyEqDgGs/S9RPF5_Jf2I/AAAAAAAAACA/TxCyQavt2LQ/s320/coop+bike.jpg" /></div><br /><div align="left">We also found out <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_22" class="blsp-spelling-error">Jaylyn</span> had been picked as the MVP of her soccer game. So it turns out both our kids can actually make it without us in <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_23" class="blsp-spelling-corrected">Birmingham</span>...that means it's time to plan romantic weekend 2011!</div>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4258656537166356155.post-2264313410935671462010-04-13T06:18:00.000-07:002010-04-13T06:29:55.628-07:00Going Wireless...So the other night John and I are laying in bed and John got on his IPhone (how did we live before we got them?). All the sudden I hear him laughing and he tells me to look at the different wireless connections available. So I do and that is when I saw that one of my neighbors has an <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_0" class="blsp-spelling-corrected">interesting</span> choice for what they named their wireless i<span id="SPELLING_ERROR_1" class="blsp-spelling-corrected">nternet</span> connection. As in it rhymed with peez cuts...use your imagination people.<br /><br />It made me wonder in today's society just how much privacy do you have? As I drive down the road or am stopped in carpool if I get on my phone all wireless internet connections are shown to me immediatly (normally their owners aren't as "creative" as my neighbors). Granted you can't see whose wireless connection belongs to who but you can normally figure it out and it kind of seems like an envasion on my neighbor's privacy that we saw it.<br /><br />On a funnier note you have to understand I live in a very suburban neighborhood and their are only little kids around us so an adult must have set that name. Strange but I guess to each his own...Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4258656537166356155.post-7755423598881765022010-04-10T10:17:00.000-07:002010-04-10T10:38:04.260-07:00The Cycle of the Shot Glass<div>There are many things in life that take on new meaning the older I get. For example as a kid a purse was something I would stuff with junk and carry around trying to look older. As a teenager a purse held my make-up and later my license and car keys. As a college student I quit carrying a purse-it seems like no one did. <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_0" class="blsp-spelling-corrected">After all</span> my life revolved around class, running, and parties-no need for a purse. Now a purse is used for carrying kid toys, juice cups, wallet, membership cards, make-up, grocery lists, and whatever else I can cram in there.</div><br /><div></div><br /><div>I found the other day something else that had taken on new meaning the older I get-a shot glass. In my kitchen a whole shelf in the cabinet is used to hold shot glasses that my husband "collects". As in once or twice a year he remembers he collects them and buys one when we are out-of-town. I don't even think he's bought one in over a year, but still his collection takes up room in my cabinets.</div><br /><div></div><br /><div>The other day Cooper picked me my first "flowers" (aka weeds). The closest he had ever come to giving me something before this was last summer he gave me a sweet gum ball that he picked just for me and I still have. I was thrilled to get flowers from Cooper, but by the time he gave them to me they were a little crushed and the stems were so small. Of course he wanted them put in water <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_1" class="blsp-spelling-error"><span id="SPELLING_ERROR_0" class="blsp-spelling-corrected">immediately</span></span> so I looked in our kitchen cabinets and decided only a shot glass would work.</div><br /><div></div><br /><div>As I put the flowers in the shot glass I realized here was another item that had taken on new meaning. In high school it was always a "cool" thing on youth trips to buy a shot glass. I'm not sure why but for some reason this was something that just made you feel a little bit older and cooler...in reality I'm sure we looked like silly little kids. In college a shot glass was used for taking shots, playing drinking games (power hour anyone?), and when all cups were dirty could be used for small drinks of water. As I reached early adulthood and shots no longer appealed to me (honestly they never did and I am feeling nauseous thinking about it) shot glasses could be used to measure liquor to turn into mixed drinks. </div><br /><div></div><br /><div>Now here I am as an adult and Mommy who no longer has a use for shot glasses (except to use up precious cabinet space!) and all the sudden they are back in my life. For they are the perfect weed flower vase:-).</div><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 240px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 320px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5458563710333631986" border="0" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_b53TyEqDgGs/S8C2xhpGPfI/AAAAAAAAABY/metQ7_kY5ZQ/s320/018.JPG" /><br /><div></div>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4258656537166356155.post-26064776337453140092010-04-07T13:35:00.000-07:002010-04-07T14:05:12.746-07:00Mulch...even the word sounds awful!Over the last two weeks I feel like I have gotten my life under control. I had weeds taking over my yard so I hired <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_0" class="blsp-spelling-error">Trugreen</span>. i had red wasps taking over my porch so I hired <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_1" class="blsp-spelling-error">Terminix</span>. And I had funky green stuff <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_2" class="blsp-spelling-corrected">popping</span> up in my shower (that I promise I do clean on a regular basis) so I bought an automatic shower cleaner (that I highly recommend). I felt very liberated and less stressed!<br /><br />Then I looked <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_3" class="blsp-spelling-error">at</span> my yard...even with <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_4" class="blsp-spelling-error">Trugreen</span> I still had weeds all in my flower bed that needed pulling and a yard that needed mowing. I still can't control the bugs in the world no matter how much poison I begged T<span id="SPELLING_ERROR_5" class="blsp-spelling-error">erminix</span> to spray. And I still have to manually clean my shower once a week to really get rid of the mold. <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_6" class="blsp-spelling-corrected">Apparently</span> reassigning work to other people/things only goes so far!<br /><br />So this weekend John and I set out to <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_7" class="blsp-spelling-corrected">reclaim</span> our yard. After purchasing <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_8" class="blsp-spelling-corrected">a</span> lawn mower and weed eater we were ready! John mowed the whole yard and ran the weed <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_9" class="blsp-spelling-error">eater</span> (luckily he views this as a "man job"). The good news is that under all those weeds, grass does still <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_10" class="blsp-spelling-error">exisit</span>! I went to work on the flower beds and FINALLY finished pulling all the weeds (this was my fourth day to work on them). The two of us went to bed feeling very accomplished.<br /><br />That is until Monday afternoon when I drove up and was sad to see my weed free flower beds desperately needed new mulch. So I set off to buy some but it turns out the mulch was too heavy for me to get by myself (who knew?). Luckily my dad was able to take a hour off work on Tuesday to help me get mulch and drop it off at my house but that is where his <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_11" class="blsp-spelling-error">assisstance</span> ended. I was left opening all the bags and spreading it out. Yuck.<br /><br />As I viewed the mulch I realized this is everything I hate about yard work rolled into one. The mulch was <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_12" class="blsp-spelling-corrected">ridiculously</span> heavy, it required me to get my knees all in the dirt next to bugs, and basically mulch is a brother to dirt and I was left having to touch it (gardening gloves only go so far). And did I mention it was mid-80s <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_13" class="blsp-spelling-corrected">yesterday</span> so in yard work terms it was freaking hot!<br /><br />But I was determined so I got to work on my front <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_14" class="blsp-spelling-corrected">flower</span> beds. I'm not going to lie, at one point I did call my mom begging her to come help me but she turned me down so I went back to work...full of self-pity. I had decided that I was in my own personal hell until <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_15" class="blsp-spelling-error">Jaylyn</span> showed up.<br /><br />Right away she looked at my flower beds and told me how beautiful they looked. Now granted <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_16" class="blsp-spelling-error">Jaylyn</span> is one of those few children with the gift to know the right and polite thing to say, but I could tell she was being sincere. Her telling me how beautiful the first half looked was enough to get me ready to tackle the second half.<br /><br />She sat there and talked to me while I worked and before I knew it I was done (sweaty but done!). She was even impressed with my estimating mulch skills <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_17" class="blsp-spelling-error">lol</span>! I stepped back to view my flower beds and I swear I was as proud as when <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_18" class="blsp-spelling-error">Jaylyn</span> is the top scorer on her basketball team or when Cooper uses good manners. I think I even forgot that I don't like yard work when I saw how great the results can be. Who knows...maybe this summer I will actually <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_19" class="blsp-spelling-corrected">successfully</span> keep a plant alive a whole season. <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_20" class="blsp-spelling-corrected">After all</span> the apple can't fall that far from the tree...(or can it?).<br /><br /><div align="center">One of the finished flower beds:-)</div><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 240px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 320px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5457504050498918290" border="0" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_b53TyEqDgGs/S7zzBNI-V5I/AAAAAAAAABQ/S2DBNEokX94/s320/063.JPG" />Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4258656537166356155.post-83229204790960059952010-04-03T12:22:00.000-07:002010-04-03T13:07:44.090-07:00WINNER, WINNER, CHICKEN DINNER!<blockquote><p><em>"You have to wonder sometimes what you're doing out there. Over the years, I've given myself a thousand reasons to keep running, but it always comes back to where it started. It comes down to self-satisfaction and a sense ofachievement."</em> -Steve <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_0" class="blsp-spelling-error">Prefontaine</span></p><p><em>"GO MOMMY! BE CAREFUL!"</em> -Cooper before my race this morning:-)</p></blockquote><blockquote></blockquote>I'm pretty sure if you're reading this blog and know me then you know I'm a "runner" (I've blogged about it several times). I put runner in quotations because running and I have a long history of breaking up (because of stress fractures, pregnancy, baby, laziness) but we always seem to find each other again. My stepdaughter asked me recently how long I've been running and when I did the math I was amazed-I've now been running on and off for 14 years-surely I'm not that old yet! <p>So today was another day...another run for me. But instead of another day on the <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_1" class="blsp-spelling-corrected">treadmill</span> listening to <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_2" class="blsp-spelling-error">Fergie</span> belt it out I decided to enter the Run to the Cross 5K at a local church. I thought it would be the perfect road race because it coincided with the churches Easter Spring Fling so my son Cooper would have something to do while I was running.</p><p>I signed up for this race about 3 weeks ago and of course the next day my ankle starts giving me major problems...as in after one run one night I thought I was going to have to call John to carry me out of the gym I was in so much pain. So I backed off running and trained with an elliptical which left me feeling very nervous about this race. I began doubting myself and my ability to run this race. </p><p>My dad of course played right into my doubting myself and bet me that there was no way I could run under 23 minutes-this course is very hilly and I primarily train on a <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_3" class="blsp-spelling-corrected">treadmill</span> so I'm sure he was thinking between that and my elliptical only training he had this one in the bag. So the two of us bet on our favorite drink in the world- a half case of diet coke...and boy do I love diet coke!</p><p>So today I set out for this race determined to win diet coke from my dad and basically not <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_4" class="blsp-spelling-corrected">embarrass</span> myself. I was however still doubting myself and was about to line up on the starting line towards the back until John yelled at me from the sidelines to get to the front. Even he has gotten <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_5" class="blsp-spelling-corrected">competitive</span> with my running!</p><p>I ended up being the first female winner and running somewhere around 22:10 (my complaint on road races is no one tells you your time!). To say I was excited to win is an <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_6" class="blsp-spelling-corrected">understatement</span>! I wondered to myself why this win and this race was so important to me?</p><p>It was important to me for many reasons...mainly because over the past 5 years since running my last cross country season I haven't won anything (except maybe the winner of having the cutest little boy ever <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_7" class="blsp-spelling-error">haha</span>). Even that last cross country season, while I was the fastest on the team and never lost to a teammate, I never won first place at any of the races. At Mississippi State I <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_8" class="blsp-spelling-corrected">definitely</span> never won a race and I think I was one of the slowest girls on the team (little fish, big pond syndrome). Even my senior year in high school I was set to get 1st in the half mile in state only to be dealt a surprise runner who went under the radar and ended up beating me giving me 2<span id="SPELLING_ERROR_9" class="blsp-spelling-error">nd</span> place at my last race in high school. So to win now feels <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_10" class="blsp-spelling-error">gggooooooddddd</span>!</p><p>So there I was on my winner's high when all of the sudden a <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_11" class="blsp-spelling-corrected">miniature</span> version of myself comes running at me yelling, "Mommy!", and jumps into my arms hugging me and telling me good job...a word I had just taught him this morning. And then I remembered why this really feels so good-because now I get to share it with my son. Granted he has no idea if I win or lose, but he doesn't care; he just loves going to Mommy's race and cheering for me (and seeing his Grandparents). </p><p>What is about children that just make life so much more worth it? And how did I ever think I was really living until I had Cooper, <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_12" class="blsp-spelling-error">Jaylyn</span>, and John to share it with? I think though that I am finally learning what my mom has already learned-the lesson that kids make life more fun (minus the teenager years!). <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_13" class="blsp-spelling-corrected">After all</span>, she wouldn't let my dad leave today until she saw me get my 1st place award.</p>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com1