Our fifteen seconds of internet fame.
The Son’s Pokey Little Puppy Cake was featured on Cake Wrecks today as one of the Sunday Sweets! Here is the link. Hop over and leave a comment about which one is your favorite. Here is the link to pictures from the party. And here again, because I love it so much I could show it a zillion times, is the cake! Welcome people who are visiting from every one’s favorite confectionery website. I take no credit for the cake, I just asked for a Pokey Little Puppy cake and my friend Stacey, the cake wizard, designed and made it.
I Say Start With The Moustache.
I’m not quite sure where to start with this picture. Should we start with the cowboy hat on the mechanical engineer living in the suburbs? How about the wearing of a Coors light t-shirt with a two year old on your lap? The early digital watch? The random placement of a paper machete E.T.? The cute little belly poking out? Wondering what happened to need a bandaid? The cute sandals I would totally wear today?
How about we start with saying Happy Birthday to a man whose daughter loves him just as much now as she did in this picture.
Happy Birthday Dad.
Filed under Family-blame the DNA, Photography | Comments (4)We fast forward past the graphic parts, but maybe we are still watching too much Dirty Jobs.
“You be this fish Mama, and I will be a shark.”
“Okay!” “Dum dum. Dum dum. Dum dum.”
“The Son Shark eats you!”
“Aghh!”
“Holy Crap!”
pause.
“What did you just say?”
“Holy Crap, Mama.”
He holds up a rubber lobster.
“Are you saying holy CRAB?”
“Right! Just like Mike! Holy Crab!”
“Mike on Dirty Jobs?”
“Yup!”
“You are right, Darlin, Mike is saying Holy Crab.”
“I know! Now you be this fish and I will be a crab.”
Filed under Boy is my face red, Parenting for Dummies, The Son | Comment (1)My Dad calls me Grace.
Age Five: Riding my Rainbow Bright Bicycle with training wheels. My Mom follows me on her bike with my baby brother in one of those plastic seats attached. No one is wearing a helmet, people didn’t wear helmets in 1985. A car coming quickly. A cry from behind, “Get closer to the curb!” I get a little TOO close, my skull meets a concrete ditch.
Age Ten: My dad warns me not to climb the massive fallen tree we come upon while hiking. I do it anyway. A huge rotted limb breaks, a girl falls, an ankle sprains.
Age Fourteen: I can ride a horse, very well. I mount a cranky old pony I’ve never ridden before at the stable of a friend. Pony bucks, too embarrassed to be bucked off by a pony– I hang on. Pony sits down and rolls. Left leg squished between leather saddle, obese equine flesh and hard Georgia clay.
Age Seventeen: I’m a drama geek. Whilst helping paint sets for “You Can’t Take it with You”, I open a can of claret paint with the nearest available implement. It turns out a chisel is not a wise choice. I, of course, slipped and a gash ensued. When I showed my drama teacher my gushing hand she replied, “Wash the paint off your hand and get back to work!”. She had seen too many students with a flair for the dramatic, but you can’t fake arterial bloodletting.
Age Eighteen: Cute shoes with stacked heels, a heavy backpack loaded with core texts, steep concrete stairs, and a late freshman are a recipe for a lovely scar right between my eyes. The new resident at the hospital slipped with the skin glue and sealed my eyelid shut. The eyelashes were missed.
Age Twenty-Nine: While showing The Son the proper way to hand feed livestock (arms outstretched, palms up) I was headbutted by a cantankerous, extremely rotund goat. My wrist was twisted between his furry cranium and a plank fence. Tomorrow, another doctor.
My darling husband typed this post for me as I sat with a bag of frozen brussell sprouts (we always use brussel sprouts for this, we should really try cooking them sometime.) controlling the swelling on my arm. Thanks Darling.
Filed under Boy is my face red, lexapro lexplains it, stupidity | Comments (4)Neighbors, puddles, and tricycles.
Thank the Lord Almighty, the rain has finally stopped. We finally get to see our neighbors who we have only seen to wave at from under our umbrellas for the last month. The sun came out, and so did we.
The grown-ups stood around and chatted about things like French drains and fill dirt and grass. This is The Neighbor’s Husband, he likes grass. That came out wrong. Let me try again. He has a beautifully maintained yard. Whereas, if The Husband and I could have a goat do our yard work we would.
The Neighbor was there too, but she was feeling camera shy. Hey, she has a secret. I think she should tell the Internet in the comments section, don’t you?
The boys rode their bicycles.
Well, H rode his bicycle. He is an athletic genius. Seriously,you should see him swing a bat. The Son? Hmm. We can’t all be Lance Armstrong, and unfortunately genetics is not on his side as far as physical prowess goes. He is really just now starting to be able to peddle his trike more than a few feet.
He also gets stuck in every little crack in the road.
And we make him wear his helmet for a very good reason.
The Son thinks I should put down the Nikon and come rescue him.
Why would I do that when H can help him?
That H is a mighty sweet kid. He even brushed the dirt off of The Son.
Gotta climb back on that horse kiddo.
He may not be that great at it, but you have to admit the kid has spunk. Not a tear or whine in sight.
He is getting better everyday, and I happen to know for a fact that there is a bigger tricycle in the attic waiting on him. I bet we get it out any day now.
Then we can watch him ride into the sun set.
The End.
Filed under Friends-All three of them, Parenting for Dummies, Photography, The Son | Comments (2)“Say AHHHH.”
“I need to put this q-tip in your throat for just a second to see if there are germies back there.”
“NO.”
“Just say AHHHH really big for a second.”
“NO!”
“Like me, say AHHH.”
“NO! I not gonna say that.”
“Sweetie, watch Mama. AHHHHH!”
“Hmm, your throat is really red too, let me swab it really fast.”
“Erm. Well, AHHHHH!”
“Got it. Now can you do like your Mama did?”
“No.”
“Can you show me what color your tongue is?”
opens mouth wide to show her his tongue.
“I got it!”
Ten minutes later….
“You both have strep throat.”
I swear there was a Brady Bunch episode with this same plot. And The Husband says that show is lame and unrealistic. In other old television news, we have been watching quite a bit of Little House on the Prairie around here, and when The Son learned he would be seeing a new doctor, Doctor Baker, he was expecting this guy.
We left with a Z-pack for me and a shot in the tuckus for him. That went well. Really, no, it was horrible, but it was better than force feeding him antibiotics for two weeks would have been. When the nurse came back in to see if he was having a reaction he said “No! You go away, you hurt my bottom, I no like you!”
I am so not surprised we have another illness. You see, The Husband and I have been planning a romantic getaway this weekend to celebrate our sixth anniversary for weeks. And we ALWAYS get sick when we plan romantic getaways. We have not had a successful one since our honeymoon. Well, I AM going to New Orleans tomorrow. I will pack Advil, my Z-pack, and some lacy lingerie, and we will have fun, dang it. Maybe we should call in some drugs for The Husband too…..
Filed under lexapro lexplains it | Comments (8)Things I NEVER would have bought for myself, but am SO grateful someone else did.
I had a REALLY good mother’s day weekend y’all. REALLY good. It started with some Sashimi Friday night, sleeping late on Saturday morning, dinner with my side of the family on Saturday night, and church and dinner with The Husband’s side on Sunday. If were all, it would have been a wonderful weekend. But it wasn’t all. I am not bragging. Really, I am not bragging! Okay, maybe just a little, but I am mostly just trying to say thank you. You see, there were gifts.
First came The Son. “Mama, Mama! I picked them from the capooter!” There were these, (how did he know tulips were my favorite?!) and the most perfect little hand (finger?) painted cross for my collection. (pictures of that to follow.)
Then came The Husband. He was just a little too eager, so I knew it was going to be good. This is one (sorry Mom) KICK ASS LENS. 18-200 Nikkor, takes the place of 4 other lenses. Awesome. There was a bonus polarized filter as well, I gotta say The Husband has more faith in me for this growing hobby than I have myself.
This was the real shocker. It was a Christmas-Birthday-Valentine’s Day-Mother’s Day gift from JHJ. I was gobsmacked. He assures me he got a screaming good deal when he was working at Dillard’s in Vegas, or else I would so make him return it and spend the money on…like bills or something responsible. He can’t do that now though. It is MINE, already filled with lip gloss, hot wheels and Pull-ups.
What can I say? I love these men! Thanks guys, I never buy this kind of thing because, well, The Husband brings in 99.8% of our family income, and I TRY to be frugal. But I sure am glad that people with such good taste love me.
What did you get for Mother’s Day? Or, what did you GIVE for Mother’s Day?
Filed under Family-blame the DNA | Comments (4)