Not a post on their own, but if you smoosh them all together? YES!…The sequel
-We found a black widow and her egg nest underneath the seat of The Son’s pedal car today. Needless to say, I spent a good hour tonight googling pictures of black widow bites and their symptoms. Since he is seizure free and no limbs have fallen off, I think we are in the clear.
-Remember that tick I found on my breast? (Breast sounds so clinical, but I really don’t like boob, we usually call them Nur-Nurs around these parts.) I found ANOTHER ONE. I am pretty sure this means either a. My breasts spend to much time outside or b….. actually there is no b, a is the right answer. I have breastfed more than my fair share in the great-outdoors. I think only women who live in mud huts and wear sarongs everyday have me beat at this point.
-Every time I tell The Son that big boys drink from cups, not Nur-Nurs, he grabs my hand and says “Nap-nap, Mama. I sleepy.” Can you tell nap time is one of the three times a day he still gets to nurse?
-We went camping about ten minutes away from our house this weekend. We came home and watched The Incredibles, took Benadryl and had naps yesterday morning, and then resumed our regularly scheduled camping experience. Shoeshe went with us on Friday night, and you know what she negated to tell me before she said she wanted to come? She has NEVER BEEN CAMPING!! (that gets one more exclamation point because we live in a gorgeous state, perfect for doing outside stuff)! She also did not bring a sleeping bag. When I tried to give her one of ours she refused….she slept on the cold, hard ground with a wee little mat and a blanket. I am assuming she will run screaming the next time someone offers to take her camping.
-We sing songs around campfires. I know, I know that sounds corny….and it probably is, but I do not care, I love it. Friday night Shoeshe had her guitar and played, and The Son and my Grandpa sang Twinkle Twinkle Little Star together, and then my Grandpa sang You are My Sunshine to my Grandma. I hope I never, ever forget those moments. (Remind me to tell you sometime about when my other grandparents renewed their vows on their fiftieth anniversary.) Last night we were roasting marshmallows (smarmallohs to The Son), my mom started singing and The Son said, “No Grammy, onwe ((only)) Swoesee ((Shoeshe)) sing. I want Swoesee.” Aww. He loves her. (could be all the presents)
-Shoeshe left some guitar thingy and a book at the campsite. Whenever she comes to visit, The Husband and I play this little game called, “What will Shoshe leave us this time?” She just got back her camera and a bag of jewelry from the last visit. I am hoping next time she leaves that sweet (insert our Alma mater here) sweatshirt she was wearing.
-The Son has had a black eye this week (it came from an overly enthusiastic hug from a stick wielding, almost two year old buddy). Today before we put him in the tub to wash away the woodsmoke/bug spray/marshmallow odors and the playground dirt held on with pancake syrup and layered over dried leaf bits held on by more marshmallows he looked ready to pose for a neglected child poster. He even had on a droopy pull up and one sock. I did not take a picture, and it was only cute because he has never looked like that before.
-An extremely heavily edited version of this was published here. They left out the parts about The Husband, and I hate that because he should get every accolade possible heaped upon him for his superb daddy skills. It is still super cool to have something I wrote published in a real live magazine. They sent me several copies, so if anyone wants one, let me know and I will mail it to ya…..it is a real magazine, but they don’t exactly sell it at Wal-mart.
-We are going away (I know, are we EVER at home anymore?) at the end of this week with the elder (edited: but not old) Huckablogs, so this and maybe only one or two more posts will be all you get this week. How about you do this to keep yourself occupied, and email the results (heyyou at thehuckablog dot com) for a future post.
Filed under Breastfeeding, Family-blame the DNA, Friends-All three of them, Parenting for Dummies | Comments (3)Holy War
Thanks for today’s post goes to Cat, our resident youth minister.
Maybe it is photo shopped, maybe it was just a planned joke between the churches, either way, yay for a sense of humor! Unless they are serious, in which case, the Presbyterians are right, dogs do not go to heaven– but shame on them for starting a holy war. I am calling the UN.
Now I am off to pack for a weekend camping trip with four generations worth of campers. Oh, and Shoeshe for a night, she is an honorary member of the family so she counts (I am unsure of her camping skills however. I will report back and let you know.)
Filed under Friends-All three of them, Time Suckers, stupidity | Comment (1)Bridesmainia: a tutorial
Step One: Answer your phone when your friend calls from New Orleans to squeal “He PROPOSED!!! SQUEEEE!” Do not charge her for the required audiologist appointment due to her squealing.
Step Two: When your friend hems and hahs over that ever so important maid/matron of honor title, because the truth of the matter is that she has three best friends, just stand in order of height and know that you are all honored and loved friends.
Step Three: Listen patiently to all nine hundred phone calls detailing the intricacies between navy blue and midnight blue, and why all rentals must be nickel not just silver. Also, politely respond to each email obsessing over “But what if it rains?!?” (p.s. it will.)
Step Four: Wear what the bride wants you to. If that means you are now the proud owner of a floor length midnight blue chiffon overlay skirt with the matching top of your choice (and by your choice, I mean that you have a pick of one of the five that the bride has deemed appro.) Oh, and make sure the shoes are silver. Not clear. Silver. Also? When the bride gives you jewelry right before the wedding? That means you should wear it at the wedding. If you wear it again, great. If not? Not her problem.
Step Five: Go to all of her showers, oooh, and awww at serving dishes and decorative bowls. Make lists of gifts for thank you notes. Collect all ribbons to make a bouquet for the rehearsal dinner. Laugh politely when shower guests remind the bride that every ribbon she breaks means that is one more baby she will have.
Step Six: Hot glue gossamer til your fingers bleed. Or, string twinkly lights till your arms ache. Or, do the Mother of the Bride’s bidding without complaint.
Step Seven: When the Bride tells you the rehearsal dinner has a theme, smile and nod. And wear your lei proudly. Also, it is a good idea to not be five hours late. If you happen to be five hours late, let the bride continue to bring it up for at least five years.
Step Eight: Stay up late doing table assignments. This is of utmost importance. You know it is going to rain, making this a colossal waste of time. Do it anyway.
Step Nine: Start drinking early the day of the wedding. I would say noonish is about right. Keep the bride happy and occupied, and if you happen to walk into her room to bring her the phone while she is applying lotion ((nude)), keep your eyes heavenward.
Step Ten: Help fasten all of the buckles, buttons, zippers, and snaps of the wedding dress. Be done an hour before wedding starts, play Taboo or another distracting game to keep the bride from having a no sleep, holy crap I am getting married meltdown.
Step Eleven: Grasp the arm of a wooly mammoth or balding cousin and prance down the aisle on your silver shoes holding your forty pound bouquet (which must be kept held high, “No drooping flowers ladies!”)
Step Twelve: Keep drinking. More. More. There that should do it. Now Dance! Eat! Make toasts! Slosh through the mud, pass out flip-flops to party guests, eat wedding cake straight from the cake stand, light people’s sparklers, remove your um, foundation garment, and place it in a bush. Actually now might be the time to stop drinking. Or not. Sure why not drink some more.
Step Thirteen: Show up on time to wedding breakfast even though you are hung over. Be glad the bride married the love of her life so you do not have to do it again.
The best bridesmaids ever, who did all of this, without complaint and more. The Lovely Ang, Shoeshe, and Cat. I could not have asked for better, but I still kinda feel like one was missing.
They might have been just a wee bit tipsy in this picture.
Filed under Friends-All three of them | Comments (11)Dear H: Happy Birthday
Happy Birthday sweet next door neighbor baby boy!
We over here to the right can’t believe you are two, and that The Son is right on your heels. If your Mama is feeling anything like I am when I look at The Son, you should let her hold you just a little longer today. Maybe let her give you a few more night-night kisses. We hope you have a wonderful big boy birthday.
Love,
The Huckablogs.
p.s. We know why your parents are doing all of the home renovations, and tell them not to even think about it. We are not above putting an old car up on blocks in our yard and letting our grass grow. Um, longer.
Filed under Friends-All three of them | Comments (3)Frid–Er, Wednesday’s Read it or Rant: Gods Behaving Badly
“Hey You, this is your conscience posting. Remember that whole Read it or Rant thing? Weren’t you going to like post every Friday or something? I seem to remember you thinking you were going to post an insightful book review every single week. You were going to have readers flocking to your blog to quench the thirst they had for literary genius. So, uh, what happened?”
Stupid conscience. Don’t I do enough for you already? Yes, I know, I have been a total slacker on the whole Read it or Rant thing. The perfectionist side of me just has a real problem reviewing drivel, and for the most part? That is all I have read lately. Trashy bodice rippers, and my magazines, (Cookie, Parents, Marie Claire, New Beginnings, and whatever MMIL gives me when she is done for those of you wondering.) Maybe my brain thinks it is still in the sixth grade. During summer vacation I read The Babysitter’s Club, and Sweet Valley Twins, and hit it hard in the fall with To Kill a Mockingbird, and Beowulf.
To make up for it, I am inviting all of you to write reviews and then send them to me. “Good Lord, Hey You, can’t you even write your own damn blog anymore?” (Do you think my conscience would take the Lord’s name in vain? Say Damn? I don’t think so either. This must be someone else’s conscience, probably JHJ’s.) Anyway, I get GOBS of email, so make sure you put “Read it or Rant” in the subject line. Maybe I will actually get around to reading something else sometime soon, but in the mean time, Ang (who I can’t link to because she has no blog, get on that Ang!) has graciously agreed (actually it was her idea, but I plan on taking credit for it just like the reviews! Bwhaha!) to review something I have on my to read list already, Gods Behaving Badly by Marie Phillips. Take it away Ang.
This book was loaned to me by a good friend when I visited a few weeks ago. Because I was already in the throes of 2-3 books at that time, it was a while before I got a chance to read this one. It was worth the wait.
Gods Behaving Badly is about ancient Greek gods living in modern-day London. They are all sharing a house and living somewhat normal lives. Artemis (dog-walker), Aphrodite (phone sex operator), Apollo (TV psychic, along with the help of his sibyls), and the others are cramped into a tiny, filthy house and are finding that their powers are waning. Athena (scientist) is trying to find ways for the gods to regain their powers, but, like most brilliant minds, she is unable to adequately communicate her findings to her fellow gods. Apollo falls into unrequited love with the housekeeper, and her would-be boyfriend is none too pleased with the situation. Not to ruin the book for anyone who might actually want to read it, a catastrophic event occurs, the Underworld is involved, and an unlikely hero emerges.
I thoroughly enjoyed this book. It was smart and funny, and the hero and heroine are so cute you just want them to kiss already. It also gave me a bit of a refresher course in Greek mythology. I giggled throughout the entire thing, and it only took me a few days to finish it (granted, I’m not working and seem to have a lot of free time on my hands). If, however, you have delicate sensibilities, you may want to pass on this book. It freely used the f-word, and contained a few intimate proceedings. But, if you can overlook that (which I can, seeing as Stephen King is my favorite author and he oh-so-freely uses the f-word) the characters are lovable and the dialogue is hilarious. All in all, two enthusiastic thumbs up! A good summer read.
Thanks Ang! It will stay on my to read list.
Filed under Friends-All three of them, Read it or Rant | Comments OffVacation my ass.
On second thought it is probably not that great of an idea to use the word ass in a blog post about church. Instead insert ….um…..Oh! Foot! The title should read Vacation my Foot. This is the week that dozens of children who we usually only see at Christmas, Easter, and chasing the ice cream truck join the half dozen, or so, kids who attend our church regularly in a five-night Jesus extravaganza we call Vacation Bible School. (I think I will pause here and mention I sincerely do not mean this to be sacrilegious. If it comes across that way then start over and read again in a lighthearted, Hey You goes to church multiple times a week kinda way) This year’s theme is “Power Lab”, so everything is bedecked in sciency stuff. We do science themed projects, play “experimental” games, watch a video about a talking chipmunk and a stressed, but not mad scientist. Oh, and learn that Jesus is powerful.
The last couple of years The Husband and I have been “crew” leaders. This means more than five, but less than ten, elementary schoolers pull on us and say, “Miss Hey You! Miss Hey You! She got more than me! But I wanted blue! Green is yucky. Miss Hey You, will you take me potty?” “Mr. Husband? Why does your toe look like that? Mr. Husband? Can I climb on you? Mr. Husband! Garret farted (I HATE THAT WORD!)” The funniest is that The Husband has one kid who calls him Coach Husband. It cracks me up every time I hear it because it is: a. Such a southern thing - all male teachers are “Coach”. b. My darling husband is about as far from a “Coach” as you can get. Unless you can coach children running around like banshees?
Because we are working together, but still have our own distinct groups, the differences in how we relate to kids is painfully obvious. I am VERY strict. I do not tolerate running around, leaving the group, talking out of turn, using even slightly foul language (do as I say, not as I do!), or being disrespectful. I also sing all the songs, dance and do all the hand motions to the music. I play all the games, do all the crafts, and generally am just excited to be doing whatever the curriculum requires. The Husband pretty much lets the kids do whatever. Their lines are nonexistent, never mind army straight like mine. They climb all over him, pick flowers out of the church garden, sit during the songs, and never finish their group questions. He does not participate in the same giddy way that I do, and is shy about getting up in front of them to lead. He is also so-o-o-o patient with them, he listens to them one-on-one. He sits next to them while they eat, and helps them with their projects. The kids adore him. We always request to be on the same team of “crews” because it comes down to the fact that we complement each other wonderfully.
We all come home hungry, exhausted, and happy. This is The Son’s first year to participate in something other than the nursery. Tonight when it was time to go we could not leave until he had kissed his teachers good-bye. He had sung, and danced, made crafts, played, and prayed with other toddlers. VBS is a lot of work, but it is worth it to give other kids that same feeling that he gets, and if they happen to decide that church is for more than Christmas carols and Easter egg hunts, then all the better.
Filed under Family-blame the DNA, Friends-All three of them, Soap box, The Husband, Time Suckers | Comments (8)Have you seen the blogroll of late?
There are some funny, funny people there. I just this minute added 7daytrial because her post about her romantic getaway was an exact copy of every time The Husband and I try to go away together, (except for the smoking. Girl, you are way too smart to still be doing that sh!t, and if you see my brother doing it then smack him upside that huge, curly head for me). Remind me to tell you about our New Orleans get away sometime.
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Don’t forget to send me your weight loss updates!
Filed under Friends-All three of them | Comments (5)