Friday, February 27, 2009


Back when I was still living up North, before I was married, my friend Vickie and I had a girls' night out. We went into the city to eat at a gourmet Mexican restaurant and then to see Les Miserables. We got all dressed up (which I never do), and took the train into the heart of the city. We were excited as we walked to the restaurant, anticipating the wonderful food. When we got to the restaurant, we entered the lobby and anxiously awaited going upstairs into the restaurant to eat.

As we stood at the bottom of the wide staircase talking, we suddenly heard a commotion. Things happened very quickly from there. We looked up to see about 10 or 15 people rushing down the stairs toward us. Our first reaction was to get out of the way to avoid being trampled. And that's what we did. We backed away and pressed up against the wall to escape the stampede. It was only after events unfolded that we realized what exactly had taken place.

As we were talking at the bottom of the stairs, a large party was at the top of the stairs getting ready to depart. In the front of the large party was a very elderly man. Somehow, this elderly man lost his balance and began a rapid and unsteady descent down the stairs. Every other member of the large party, along with several employees of the restaurant, saw him heading down the stairs to certain doom, and they all rushed after him in a vain attempt to grab him and keep him on his feet.

This elderly gentleman was headed straight for Vickie and me, who moved aside and let him land face flat on the floor. Not our proudest moment. But, to be fair, it all happened very quickly and our instinct was for self-preservation. The man appeared to be uninjured, which assuaged our guilt ... just a little bit.

Thursday, February 26, 2009


I just had my hair highlighted and styled, so I figured it was a good time to take another belly picture. I was exactly six months pregnant yesterday. I know the hair looks different, and that may skew the whole pregnant head phenomenon. What do you think? Head pregnant? Not?

My hair will not be looking this nice tomorrow. Or the day after that. Or the day after that. Or until my friend LeeAnn so graciously cuts and colors it again. I'm happy when I remember to brush it. Or wear deodorant for that matter. I forget basic things when I'm pregnant. "Did I bathe today?" "Did I feed the kids breakfast?"

Wednesday, February 25, 2009

IT'S 2:48 A.M....

I woke up (after having fallen asleep on the bottom bunk with Bean earlier tonight) in a panic because I needed to pay my electric bill and had forgotten to do so earlier today. I got up and paid it. Now, here I sit, adrenaline rushing through my veins and nowhere to put that displaced energy.

So, here are some thoughts ...

You know how kids are go through those "testing" phases? Bean seems to have recently channeled the attitude of a 13-year-old. And Cakes has suddenly developed quite a penchant for saying, "No!" in complete defiance of every request and/or command given to her. She's been spending a lot of time in her room lately as a result. Fun stuff. But, I'm a pretty strict disciplinarian and will haul my pregnant body from anywhere in the house to stick a disobedient and/or sassy kid in time out or remove a beloved toy from her grasp until proper respect is being displayed (we don't do spanking - we're not against it, but we just choose to consistently implement other forms of discipline).

When we were in Barnes and Noble over the weekend, Cakes was throwing a tantrum because she did not want to obey me and put her coat on in preparation of leaving (it was in the 30's this particular day). The thing about public tantrums is that there is no set place for a time out; so, the dilemma that faces me is whether to remove a desired object from her or find a suitable place to take her until the tantrum subsides.

I always feel bad for moms who are out with their screaming kids. Well, I feel bad and I thank the good Lord that my kids are behaving at the moment.

But, I digress. So, there I was, six months pregnant with 4-year-old and a screaming 2 1/2-year-old, doing my best to maintain my composure and improvise with the discipline. I typically would have immediately whisked her outside or to the car but, like I said, the temperature was in the 30's and the issue in question was getting her coat on. After about five (seemingly endless) minutes of screaming and several failed attempts to stick her noodly, dead-fish arms into her coat sleeves, we finally bribed her into the coat and I sent her off with her father before I had a complete nervous breakdown.

Then it happened.

Some old man came up to me and started telling me that my child was completely out of control and that my husband and I were absolutely horrible parents for letting our child get away with screaming in public and defying us. Now, I know I'm not the first person to have a complete stranger witness five minutes of my life and then interfere as if they had been present since the moment of my conception, but it was the first time that it had happened to me. And, since I have quite the sarcastic streak (goes over really well here in the South, too, let me tell you), I always thought I would shoot out some snappy comeback if that ever happened. But, I just stood there speechless, mouth open, before finally just shaking my head and walking away.

Well, off to try to squeeze a few more hours of sleep out of this night...

Tuesday, February 24, 2009


Once again, it was story time at our local Barnes and Noble. Once a month, they have a special "guest" (i.e. a B&N Staffer dressed as a cartoon character) at story time. At the end of the story, the kids get to meet the special guest and pose for a picture. This month, the guest was Curious George.

Look at the crowds that showed up to see Curious George!

Am I the only one who did not know that Curious George was this popular? It's like Hannah Montana for toddlers! It was a loud, overstimulating (word that became second nature when working with adults with traumatic brain injury), mad house! Kids were screaming, parents were shoving forward with cameras to get a shot of their tots with George. Crazy!
Bean and Cakes were very interested in meeting George. Bean stepped right up, hugged him, and proceeded to pose. Cakes talked a lot about hugging George until she got within three feet of him. Then, Big Daddy had to hold her while she fearfully averted her eyes.

After the photo was taken, Cakes summoned all the courage she had in her little, three-foot frame and waved good-bye to George. She then proceeded to gush about him for the next hour.

The city's opera company is performing next week. I doubt they'll get the crowds George did ...

Monday, February 23, 2009


I must admit that I'm a bit of a political junkie. I have some serious opinions about all things political, and I like to keep myself very well-informed. I also like to keep it out of the blogosphere, because the purpose of this blog isn't to be political, it's to share with friends and family (and anyone else who happens to show an interest) about the daily goings on of my little family here in the South.

So, I have been noticeably absent from my blog for the past week or so, because I spent that time fully researching the stimulus package, breaking it down to inform people, and writing my state senators and local representatives.

I won't tell anyone what they should or should not support, but I do encourage everyone to stay informed, and to email and/or phone their local and state government officials as much as possible. I think it's our responsibility as citizens to stay informed and stay involved.

And there is my soapbox moment. Back to the usual tomorrow!

Monday, February 9, 2009


My girls love getting their pictures taken. Whenever a camera appears, they start yelling "cheese," smiling like crazy, and doing all kinds of fancy poses.
On Saturday, we went to the local Barnes and Noble for story time. The girls were especially excited, because a member of our city's ballet troupe was there to read Cinderella and teach a few dance steps. After the story reading, the girls had a chance to pose with the real, live ballerina (thank goodness for camera phones!).

Afterwards, it was off to Macy's to check out the end of the season sales. The girls, energized with Chik-Fil-A and candy necklaces, raced around the department store, stopping only for a potty break and to pose with ....

Lingerie mannequins.

Thank goodness for camera phones!

Thursday, February 5, 2009


Remember Captain Caveman? I loved that old cartoon! So did my husband. Who has a small mouth. Now, there's a lot of room in the inside of his mouth, but stuff has to fit past his small lips. Okay, maybe his mouth isn't that small. Okay, his mouth is pretty average sized.

I, on the other hand, have been blessed with a rather large mouth. I've heard comments about my "voluptuous lips," etc. But, basically, I'm one of those people that can fit my whole fist in my mouth. Big Daddy finds it hilarious. One of his nicknames for me when we were dating was "Captain Cavemouth." If I yawned, he would cower and yell, "Don't eat me!"

Lest you think Big Daddy didn't get any playful teasing, I often referred to him as Sideshow Bob.

That's pretty much how Big Daddy's hair looks when not in a pony tail (thanks to for the photo).

Here is a photo that, thankfully, has yet to make it into any family albums or slideshows about Africa. You can see the beginnings of Captain Cavemouth (and the fact that I spent a great deal of time in Africa topless ...).

For more embarrassing memories captured on film, check out We Are THAT Family.

Tuesday, February 3, 2009


Bean and I were discussing Peanut. Like I said, I like to keep Peanut in the forefront of the cherubs' minds so that they're as ready as they can be for her arrival this June.

On this occasion, Bean and I were discussing my blossoming belly, and Bean even got a chance to feel Peanut squirming around a little bit.

Me: That's Peanut in my belly; and, when she's all ready, God will bring her out of my belly and we will be able to hold her and feed her and change her diaper.

Bean: How did Peanut get in your belly?

Me: Well, Daddy put her there, and God will get her out when she's big enough.

Bean: But, how did Daddy put her in your belly?

Uh, oh .....

Monday, February 2, 2009


I've been talking to the cherubs about Peanut a lot lately. I want to get them used to the idea of having a little sister. Most of the conversations involve how Bean and Cakes are going to help Mommy with Peanut, what Bean and Cakes are going to teach Peanut, etc.

Today, I was wiping some cupcake off of Bean's cheeks and noticed a little scratch.

Me: Bean, you've got a little scratch on your cheek.

Bean: How did it get there?

Me: That's what I was going to ask you?

Bean: Peanut did it.

Me: Peanut? She's still in Mommy's belly. She can't scratch your cheek.

Bean: She came out of Mommy's belly and scratched me and went back in your belly.

Start blaming the baby now ....