somewhat wordless wednesday

Something is wrong in each picture.



Can you figure out what?!



I'll give you a little hint: It's nap time.

hurry up friday... i'm dangling by a thread

So it's Thursday night, and in case you haven't noticed, it's been one long week. And frankly, I am rather excited about the prospects of tomorrow being Friday. I don't really know what difference it makes, as my days are frequently quite similar and tend to meld one right into the other. But somehow knowing that the weekend is near brings a sense of relief, and I can feel the tension begin to evaporate from my shoulders. Weird.




Anyway, back to this week.




When I gave birth to "Baby No-Mo" two years ago, I envisioned his arrival as the proverbial icing. A perfectly delicious way to end this "season" of our lives. I mean, look at him. YUMMY!







He was the sweetest baby ever... you know, just sort of glad to be here, along for the ride at times, docile and happy-go-lucky.







His entrance into our family life was a seamless transition. He loved his siblings, and they loved him.









He was truly a joy to be around.










THEN HE TURNED 2!









He can now frequently be found (read: constantly) doing something he is not supposed to be doing.




For example:




Drinking the bath water. Gross. Just gross.






Foraging in the yard. I have no idea what is in his mouth. I pray it is not poisonous but that it tastes bad. That will be his only deterrent.






Drawing on himself with markers. Apparently it's way more fun than paper.







Climbing into and upon everything that is stationary.







Do you notice who is in the background watching this take place? Oh yeah. But he is not always the ringleader, we have found. And this particular episode has forced me to lock the bathroom doors to keep him out. If you need to potty at my house, you better plan ahead. We have to find the key.




But alas, this week, the littles discovered yet another new and creative way to send their already near the edge mother one slippery step closer to her inevitable destination. Let me explain.




The big kids and I were finishing lunch and a video, and the mini-marauders asked to wash their hands and faces. Somewhat skeptical but not wishing to clean mystery stains off the couch, I allowed them access to the bathroom sink nearest the den so I could keep an eye on them. They appeared to be doing a good job and no one was actually IN the sink so I allowed a longer than normal hand-washing session to occur.



It's all a blur how it happened really. You see, as I cleared the lunch mess and quickly straightened the kitchen, I no longer heard water running and assumed they were all done and had come back to the den to finish watching the video before nap time.




Heh.




A few moments passed and I realized they were not in fact where I thought they were and that the bathroom door was closed. That, my friends, is never a good sign.




They had closed the bathroom door leading to the den, only to exit through the other door into their sister's room. When we opened the door, this is what we found.












Oh yes. That is an entire container of powder that was on top of the changing table behind two brand new packs of diapers. IT WAS NOT EVEN VISIBLE!!!!!




Me: (breathe) 1-2-3-4... (breathe) WHAT... (breathe *cough* *cough*) ARE YOU DOING?!



W: Makin' snow angels. 'Wijah' wanted to.



E: unintelligible gibberish... SNOW... jabber jabber... WYATT!



Me: ...




After a little reluctant help from the big kids, we got the littles showered, dressed and down for a nap with little to no complaint (probably because they saw my eye twitching and didn't want to press their luck) and most of the mess dusted, swept, swiffered and mopped up.



I then flopped onto the couch for a moment of solitude I like to call "sit and stare" while I contemplated the meaning of life and the uselessness of powder. Emily's room still smells "powder fresh" which in case you don't know is highly overrated.

this and that

so this morning i went outside to do this:







and i saw that:







which confirmed this



because its mama might be that:







in which case i'd be this:







and would need to buy that:







just sayin'.

cinco de mayo

So we had a little get-together at our house Sunday night. We had planned to invite a few people over and have "Mexican Night." Who doesn't love nachos, right?


Well.


A few people turned into like forty-somethin'. I frankly lost count, and it didn't matter anyway.


Ole!


You know how it goes...


People hear there's a gathering. With food. And they want to come.


Because nothing says "PARTY!" like driving to the "holla" on a stormy night to hang out with the weather magnets themselves.


I snapped a few pictures. And then got distracted.


Wait, what was I saying?


You see?!


I couldn't be everywhere at once so I missed getting pictures of several people like "mama in da pink hat", "the insurance salesman" and our "magical" friend and his wife. Gah! I missed a bunch.


And I couldn't participate in every conversation, but wanting you to feel included and all, I will attempt to recreate what I imagine was happening in the pictures.




"Dude, I drove all the way up here for this? Where's the pinata?"






"I bet we could sneak out before anyone notices. DANG! She saw us!"






I can't be snarky about the chil'rens. Here they are. SOME of them. Just the girls, I see.








"Actually, it's quite complicated, and without knowing the circumference of the moose, I'm reticent to base my decision on the facts I've been given..."






Actual tidbits of conversations heard throughout the night:


You'd be a good breeder.


It took her five minutes to pull over.


Do you want me to bring you my stuff or are you gonna come get it?


Don't shoot each other in the house!


Can we borrow some clean clothes?


Does Jay know the fire marshal up here? You may be beyond capacity.


Did she say there was 'hash' in the brownies?




And my personal favorite:


I thought Mama was gonna get tased!



In spite of the randomness of some of these comments (taken out of context for your reading pleasure), you must know that there was no alcohol (or hash) involved. My friends are just this whacky and fun. And I love 'em for it!

bike: 1 boy: 0

Once again, I am up for the "Mother of the Year Award."


And this time it's just in time for Mother's Day!


Go me!


It happened something like this.



loud thud against the front door


Me: What in the world?


I open the door and see my eldest. Attached to his bike. By his pants.


Eldest: Can you HELP ME?!


Me: ...


Eldest: PLEASE?!


Me: ... bwahahahahaha... hehehehe... hoo... *snort* hahahaha... ahem...


Eldest: ...


Me: Oh. Wait. Would you like a drink?


Eldest: Sure.


pouring drink and dialing husband to ask advice... no answer.


Eldest: MAMA!


Me: Coming!


phone rings...


It's the Senior Pastor!


Pastor Larry asks if everything is OK since I called the office and hung up when the answering machine picked up.


oops


I begin to explain our predicament to him, and he starts to give me advice about how to detach my son from his bike. It involves lifting the bike off of him and turning the pedals... or getting a socket set and loosening something... and then a story about how he once got his bell bottoms caught in his bike chain...


And the whole situation is starting to make me laugh. Hard. As in I can't catch my breath to respond.


And then I have to apologize because I CAN'T. STOP. LAUGHING.


I'm not sure what's funnier. That my kid is attached to his bike. Or that I get a call from my pastor.


Eldest: MAMA!


Me: Oh, yeah, coming.


*snap* *snap* *snap*


Eldest: Are you taking PICTURES?!


Me: Not anymore.











I took all the advice to heart, but in the end, my way just seemed easier.










Once again, I think the award belongs to me.