My Acceptance Speech, the final draft

I would like to thank you all for coming today. Honestly, I'd say that I'm shocked and in awe that you'd come all this way to award me with such a title, but I'm not surprised.

I mean, it's not every day that you happen upon a woman like me. The things you say about me are, indeed, true. I am so deserving of this title that when the awards committee called me, I laughed a little and then wondered what had taken so long.

Yes, it would be me who had to tell her 2 year old, again, not to lick the toilet. Ever. Even if you think it's chocolate.

It would also be me who allowed her almost 9 month old baby to play with an electrical adapter. It was unplugged. But you know, the principle of the matter is that I would have never let my first born baby play with cords of that nature. But alas, I just looked at her content self and continued texting my BFF.

I have earned this award on so many levels, but the thing that is the clincher for me, I think, is my attention to detail sarcasm. When my pre-teen stormed out of the room in an emotional rage it may or may not have been me who mumbled under my breath, "If you'd have stayed 8 years old like I told you this wouldn't be an issue." I may have also told her she is, in fact, bossy and to stop acting surprised when people assign her that title.

I am also going to confess that I earned this title fully when I went to turn on the sound machine in my 4 year old's room and, upon discovering her used pull up laying on her dresser, pinched it by the edge, carried it across the house and slung it in her general direction. I believe that life is best learned in a state of surprise, so I also felt it necessary to call her name as the urine laden disposable underpants were hurling at her head.

Think fast and stop peeing the bed. It's like my catch phrase. And by catch phrase I mean, seriously, catch!

You also should know that this isn't an award I will take flippantly. Oh no. I will wear this title as a crown upon my head and, in honor of it, I will continue to tell my children who are STARRRRRVVVIIIIINGGGGG and asking every food related question in their vocabulary at 5:45pm as I am frantically finishing up dinner that our meal will consist of "food and food with a side of food." Delicious sounding, isn't it? I know it's important to encourage proper nutrition and because of that when they ask what kind of food, I will reply with a bright, warm smile, "the kind you eat."

Modeling behaviors you wish to see in your children is oh-so-very important and I take this title you have given me so seriously, that I will always endeavor to show my children that YELLING AT THE TOP OF YOUR LUNGS FROM 24 INCHES FROM MY FACE IS ALWAYS A DELIGHT EVEN IF YOU'RE TELLING ME THAT YOU'VE FINISHED ALL YOUR SCHOOL WORK AND CLEANED YOUR ROOM AND NOW YOU'D LIKE TO HELP ME WASH ALL THE DISHES AND FOLD THE CLOTHES.

Hard work ethic and ear buds have helped me push through those training sessions.

I know that many of you wonder how I juggle it all, especially the baby and the 2 year old. Naturally, the 2 year old is eager for my attention and I try so very hard to show her that she is just as special and loved as her baby sister, even though the baby needs my attention more frequently for nursing sessions.

Of course, since this seemed to be a battle ground, I offered for my darling two year old to have a taste of Mommy's milk and told her that she too, when she was younger, drank my milk. She seemed eager at the idea and so I gently unlatched the baby as my elated 2 year old leaned in. I prepared myself that it might not end well since the 2 year old now has a mouth full of teeth and hasn't suckled in a very long time. As she neared me I squeezed once, quite firmly, and 2 steady streams of milk shot forth. One landed directly into her mouth and the other into her eye.

As she shrieked and thrashed on the floor I excused myself to empty my bladder in a more suitable place than the glider rocker in the nursery.

Since I believe that every moment has potential to be a teachable one, I also reminded her that there's no use crying over spilled, or mis-directed milk.

So you see, it is with grace and meekness and a quiet, humble spirit that I accept this awarded title that the committee has chosen me for this year. I've never been one to boast in an award in such a way and I hope my acceptance speech has demonstrated exactly why I feel that I am 110% the obvious candidate for the title of

Okayest Mom of the Year.

If you would like to schedule a mentoring session, please be sure to stop by my house. Our door bell is broken, but please do not hesitate to send in the panty-clad toddler, who is in the driveway, eating an uncooked, frozen pizza, in to look for me.

Thank you all. Have a wonderful evening.

Easter nostalgia

Some Moms do the Christmas Eve photo in front of the Christmas tree with all the kids in their Christmas pajamas. I'm not one of those Moms. In fact, despite that I really enjoy taking photos, it's rare that ask my own children to sit and take a photo all together. And getting myself in the picture is even more rare.

For whatever reason, Easter is the one time a year I hand off the camera and force beg coerce bribe my kids (and husband) into taking a yearly family photo. It rarely ends well (and by well, I mean that we are all perfectly posed and I've not issued threats or made unreasonable promises), but it always makes me laugh. At least, afterwards. Many years afterwards.

It also appears to be the one thing that Lucas hates most on the earth. Olivia, on the other hand, has always rocked the Easter photo. I'm guessing it's her favorite holiday, ever. Besides her birthday and Christmas and whatever holiday is exactly next.

Easter 2010 can be found here on my blog. It's hilarious. But for comparisons purposes, here's a quick picture.

That would be itty bitty Ella on my lap next to Olivia. Goodness

Easter 2011 was apparently not blogged about and this is probably why:

The best one we got that year features our dog's back. Again, LUCAS. He's probably mad because he's wearing the exact same sweater vest that he wore the previous year. Fashion is clearly his thing. Or not. Seeing as how he's worn the same pair of jorts for the last week.

Easter 2012 things seemed to go a big more smoothly.

That's teeny, tiny Abigail on my lap.

You know, except for Lucas. At least Olivia is rocking it out. And Aaron. Clearly they were being bribed with excessive amounts of candy. Momma had a newborn. Momma was tired.

Easter 2013 apparently did not exist because I have no photographic documentation of it. Not even looking back through all the pics from my phone. So weird.

Which brings us to this year. Easter 2014. I knew I wanted a pic of all of us. My parents, my two grandmas and all the kids. Please note Lucas' over sarcastic smile because it took several photos of him not doing pointy, happy fingers at the camera, or throwing up some sort of gang symbol or staring off into the yard in the opposite direction.

23 photos later, grandparent photo: check. I mean, one kid out of 8 isn't looking but LOOK AT ABIGAIL. The cute. I can't even handle it.

And then, I politely asked Abigail to remove herself from my Mom's lap and sit with me for a nice family photo. She also loved that idea. Or not.

Okay, Abs, please just stop before you upset your baby sister.

Well, at least Lucas is happy for once.

I hope your Easter was a scream.

Das Not Funny! Friday: Ashlee's antics

Our sweet Ashlee girl, how she delights my heart. She brings laughter, joy, silliness and affection into our home. She's just a fun person to be around.

She can tear through a math workbook at lightening quick speeds. She reads above grade level and enjoys all aspects of learning. She's a sharp one, that girl. However, she doesn't always use her smarts in her favor. This girl can keep us laughing that's for sure!

Two weeks ago we had a duel birthday celebration for Ashlee and Lucas. The boys used a nearby gym and had an indoor "campout" complete with wrestling matches, ball games and, of course, Star Wars. The girls had a sleepover at our house complete with a full nail and hair salon and capped off by Barbie movies.

Because the best part of a birthday is singing "Happy Birthday" to yourself.

After the weekend full of birthday festivities, Elizabeth was having a moment of pouting because she didn't think she was getting her fair share of birthday attention. My Mom pointed out to Elizabeth that she doesn't have to share her birthday and that in a few months, she'll have her very own special day and party. My Mom turned to Ashlee and said,

"You see Ashlee has to share her birthday, don't you Ashlee?"

To which Ashlee replied, flabbergasted, "WITH WHO?!?"

Anyway, back to the night of the sleepover. We had a good time and finally, at midnight the girls decided it was time to settle down there was a mother-enforced mandate to settle down. Since the time she was an itty bitty baby Ashlee has slept with a little blue bear we so originally named, Bear Bear. To fall asleep, Ashlee sucks on her bear's ear. She never took a pacci but she can hardly fall asleep without Bear Bear.

About 12:15am Ashlee appeared in the doorway of my bedroom.

"Ash, what's wrong sis?" I asked, thinking maybe she was upset about not sleeping in her bed.

"Momma," she said, with a worried look on her face, "I'm shy. I don't want any of my customers to see me chewing on my Bear Bear."

Earlier this week we sent the kids off to do their chores. One of our rotating chores is for one of the older 3 to clean one of the bathrooms. It was Ashlee's turn for that chore. She comes bounding into the kitchen, with a roll of paper towels under her arm.

"Mom?" she asks, "Where's the Oxyclean?"

"The what?" I reply.

"The Oxyclean!" she says again, like I'm dumb to even ask for clarification.

"Honey, we don't have any Oxyclean but we have the spray you always use to clean the bathroom. It's right there," I say as I point to the solution under the sink.

"But Mom! I need Oxyclean. You know. It gets the tough stains out!"

With hair color at her sleepover party

Indeed our Ashlee girl is a laugh a minute, our resident clown. Even if the majority of the time it's completely unintentional.

Oh deer!

Alternately titled: "A series of poor wildlife rescue choices"

It's never a dull moment around here, that's for sure. And most times, the kids are only a sliver of the reason it's exciting.

Let me preface this by saying that I was raised in the country. I went huntin' and fishin' with my Daddy plenty a' times. "Goin' up to tha huntin' club" was a regular event for me as a young girl. Often, I was the only girl there. I've spent a lot of time in the woods, let's just say. (Which, you would think would equate to the fact that I know better. We rarely take our own advice, do we?)

So when Elizabeth and I went on a bike ride Thursday night and a friend in our "neighborhood" told us about a fawn in a nearby bush, I didn't think much about it. However, after a quick trip back by our house, Elizabeth begged to go see the fawn.

Okay. No big deal, right? We rode our bikes just a little ways from our house, park them and walk over to the bush where the fawn had been spotted. Since I had experience with fawns and Mommas hiding their babies, I figured it would be hard to find.

Um. Not so much.

See that large mass of concrete behind Elizabeth? Yeah. Momma deer hid her baby in a landscaped median of a parking lot.

My friend Shannon said on facebook, "You are the third family I've seen in the last 24 hours to find fawns. Seems like animals are becoming questionable parents just like humans."

That made me laugh. The truth is funny.

Anyway, as Elizabeth and I sat looking at the not-so-hidden baby fawn, Elizabeth asked, "Can I pet it?"

I rolled the thought around in my mind and figured she was already arm distance away from it. I told her to take a small scoot toward the baby. As she did, the baby became uneasy. Not wanting to disturb the poor thing, I told her, "Baby, it's getting scared. Let's back away and leave it alone."

As she and I scooted away, we spooked the little guy (gal?) anyway and it jumped up and ran into the road.

Awesome. Way to be a protector of nature, Jessica.

Elizabeth began yelling the thoughts that were already in my head, "Mom! IT'S IN THE ROAD! It's gonna DIIIIIIIIEEEEEEE!"

I walked toward "Bambi" (as Elizabeth later so originally named it) and Bambi began to run with long, lanky, unbalanced strides across the road and toward a nearby home. Without giving too much info for internet creepers: where we live, though in a residential area, it's not uncommon to see lots of deer, squirrels, etc. We sort of live in a community with other folks, but off the beaten path. All of that to say, wildlife isn't exactly afraid of people in our neighborhood.

Ahem, anyway. Bambi wasn't in any REAL danger of being hit by a car (though it was possible) but more so I was now worried that her (his?) Momma wouldn't be able to find her (him?) later. Even though her hiding spot sucked, it was still her hiding spot, ya know?

Bambi, stupidly, jumped down into a stairwell that led to the basement of a nearby house. Elizabeth and I stood at the top of the stairwell and looked at a very frightened little deer and wondered what in the world we should do.

I texted and called anyone I could think of that could google, "What do you do when you spook a baby deer?" but alas, no one answered or replied to my cries for help. It's times like then that I would enjoy the luxury of a smartphone.

Anyway, I panicked and did what any girl does when she panics, I called my Mom. Together, we decided that the baby deer wasn't hidden very well and now that it was spooked it would surely die at the hands of nature and that I should catch the pitiful thing and take it home.

Divinely, my Mom was just around the corner after finishing an exercise class and she promised to come over straight away and help me get our bikes and Bambi the whole 1/4 mile back to our house.

While I waited on her to arrive, I eased into the shallow stairwell and cornered Bambi. It crossed my mind that this little precious thing might kick or bite me. I grabbed Bambi by the hind quarters and he (she?) let out a loud bleet. At that point, I half expected a Momma deer to appear from nowhere and begin ramming me in the backside with her head.

This scene from Tommy Boy played through my head as I climbed into my Mom's minivan and we drove the quarter mile back to our house. I had a death grip on this poor deer and his (her?) heart was pounding wildly. Poor little fella was terrified.

We got home and I could hear Abigail screaming the minute I opened the car door. She reserves a special hate cry for Luke. It's sad really. However, I knew if I tried to pass Bambi off to someone else there was a high probability that he (she?) would kick free and then we'd be back to chasing a baby deer all over God knows where. So I clung to Bambi tightly and asked my Mom to relieve Luke from the wails of his 3 month old daughter.

When I got inside, I received a less-than-thrilled greeting from my husband. I wasn't exactly sure how long Bambi had been left unattended so I did what any normal, rational, self-respecting mother would do.

I thawed out some breastmilk and attempted to give Bambi a bottle.

Isn't he (she?) a doll? Oh my word. And she (he?) took about an ounce, too! Once Bambi got a taste of the milk, I think he (she?) realized where it came from because it began to lick - and then tried to nibble - at my shirt. Ahem, you know, in the "upper" region.

Meanwhile, my Mom had managed to calm Abigail down a little bit but she was still in desperate need of her Momma, if you know what I mean.

My next thought turned to where in the world could I put this deer down without A) our dog killing it and B) it not destroying our house.

I needed to google something fierce and figure out what in the heck we're going to do with this little thing because if we wait too long, Elizabeth's going to have a leash on it and be walking it around the neighborhood. And, ahem, you know, I only have so much breastmilk in my freezer.

So I sent Elizabeth to gather up some baby blankets and we made a little bed for Bambi in the best place I could think, the bathtub.

I sort of wondered what was going to happen when I put this baby down. Will it freak out and gash our heads open with it's hooves? Will it slip on the bathtub and tile floor and break it's leg?

Turns out baby deer lay down where you put them. Probably because, you know, THAT'S WHAT THEIR MOMMAS TRAIN THEM TO DO. Ahem. You know.

I fed Abigail and began googling "what do you do with a fawn" like a mad woman. Nearly every.single.flippin. article I read says, "DO NOT TAKE A FAWN HOME IF YOU FIND IT."

Duh, I think. But they clearly don't know my circumstances. I read on.

More instructions say, "If the deer appears to be in danger by it's hidden location, simply watch the fawn from afar. Do not attempt to move the deer or pet it."

Double fail.

Finally, after talking to my Mom and reading virtually everything on google, Elizabeth and I decided to take the fawn back. A few sites said that if you moved a fawn but get it back by dusk, the mother would come back and take it as she had originally planned. At this point it's nearly dark so we hustled to gather up the fawn, load up the car and get back to the rendezvous point before it's totally dark.

As Elizabeth, Bambi and I pulled into the parking lot near Bambi's former hiding place, we see two deer sprint in front of our headlights. Elizabeth, not so calmly screeched, "MOM! THERE'S HIS MOMMY! HURRRRRRRRY THEY'RE RUNNNNNING AWAY! BAMBI'S GONNA DIIIIIIIEEEEEEE!"

I threw the car in park and jumped out with Bambi in my arms. I contemplated throwing Bambi into the air and releasing him (her?) back to her (his?) mother like a dove would take to flight but I figure I'd already failed Bambi enough and a broken leg wouldn't work in his (her?) favor.

I calmly walked over to the less than obscure hiding spot where Bambi was first spotted. Gently, I placed my newly nursed baby Bambi back in his (her?) snuggly, pine-needly bed. He (she?) stood and then took a few steps. I backed away slowly and Bambi faded from my vision thanks to the now pitch black that surrounded us. Elizabeth and I pulled my Mom's minivan to the other side of the parking lot, cut it off and sat and waited hoping that Bambi's Momma would come back quickly.

About 20 minutes later, as Elizabeth and I both are beginning to get quite bored of staring at bushes, Elizabeth spotted a deer! The doe grazed and slowly wandered around the grassy areas near the median that holds the bushes and Bambi. After watching her for about 25 minutes we decided we'd better head home. We started the car and the doe leapt about 30 yards then stopped and stared at us as we drive off.

The next morning we went to check on Bambi and he (she?) was gone! We prayed and we are trusting that God reunited her (him?) with Momma Deer.

Moral of this story?

God is merciful. For about 2 hours my eldest daughter got the privilege of loving on the sweetest little baby deer I've ever seen. She was in heaven and we made some memories that neither of us will ever forget.

And also, don't touch wildlife.

The end.

Das Not Funny! Friday: Confessions of a 3rd grade homeschooler

We finished up Elizabeth's standardized torture test about half an hour ago. As soon as we closed her booklet we flung our arms around each other and squealed with delight that she is now "officially" a 3rd grader. While I was busy packing up materials to return to the scoring center, she bounced off to her room carrying my iPod, unbeknownst to me.

Below is the video she made. My heart swells with so much joy over this precious girl. She's full of personality, that's for sure. Too bad she's a sheltered, introverted, unsocialized homeschool kid. ;)

Carolina, Callie and the Stink Eye

I'd like you to meet my daughters, Carolina and Callie.

Originally Olivia was Callie but then she changed her name to Carolina so Ella took up Callie where Carolina left off.

Confused yet? Welcome to my world.

Callie has always been a popular name in our house. I'm not sure why because we only know one person named Callie and our kids are hardly ever around her.

When Elizabeth was about Ella's age (2 years) she had several baby dolls all named Callie. One baby had pants that wouldn't come off so she was "Callie Pants." She had another that had a blue dress so she was "Callie Blue."

You get the idea.

My favorite things about the video below:

1) When I confirm that Ella's new name is Callie and she says, "What?" Like I was calling her name.

2) The Stink Eye

3) The fact that Olivia really responds to the name Carolina. And without hesitation. I sometimes think that I'll call her Carolina and catch her off guard and she won't respond. That's not happened yet and this has been going on for several months.

These kids crack me up, that's for sure.

When I was in elementary school I desperately wanted my name to be Lee Ann. I guess they come by it honest then, huh?

Have you or your kids ever gone by another name?

Dance Party

We like to dance in our house. A lot.

Notice I didn't say we are good dancers, we just like it. Olivia has never met a song she doesn't like and typically busts a move anytime there is any sort of melody playing.

Too bad she's too concerned with seeing herself on the computer to really show y'all her skills. This is currently our family's favorite dance song. We listened to it approximately 2,357,691 times on our road trip last week.

Enjoy. I personally think everything about this is hilarious.


Dance Party from The Beaver Bunch on Vimeo.

Sick and tired. Literally.

Oh blogging, you've certainly fallen to the way side these days. Between trying to get some homeschooling done, fighting waves of nausea, resisting the urge to lay in the floor and sleep while the kids run amuck and laying down each time the little ones are napping, blogging seems to be getting the short end of the stick.

I have much to blog about and little inspiration to actually put it in writing.

I'm frustrated that I'm 12 weeks and yet the nausea and vomiting has only seemed to worsen in the last couple of weeks. And while I'm thankful that I'm not barfing every hour like I have with previous pregnancies, I am also eager to have some relief from constantly feeling green.

But I'm trying seriously hard to not complain and enjoy every second of this pregnancy and treasure it for the miracle that it is.

The kids are saying so many things that are hilarious (especially Aaron and Olivia) and I really should carry a pen and notebook with me where ever I go because I forget them so easily.

Over the weekend we were talking with the kids about Hurricane Irene. I was in the kitchen finishing up dinner and Luke was sitting at the table with the kids talking about the impending rain that was headed our way. Elizabeth was getting really upset, worrying that our house was going to blow away.

After Luke calmed her fears, he said, casually, "I was in a hurricane once when I was a kid." (His Mom was stationed in Puerto Rico for a while.)

With bewildered astonishment, Elizabeth asked, "Did you DIE?!?"

Originally I thought it was Ashlee, but when Luke and I talked about it later he told me it was really Elizabeth. Which makes it even funnier to me.

Ella is saying more and more words that are decipherable which is also hilarious. And, I've got a few really funny and cute videos I'd love to upload.

But for now, laundry and diapers and laying on the couch is calling my name.

In no specific order.

Elizabeth's Big Announcement

Elizabeth's Big Announcement from The Beaver Bunch on Vimeo.

A little diddy, a little cheer and an awesome (little) dance

So, I've been meaning to dig out my video camera for quite some time because there are several new things that the kids are doing and I'd love to get them on video. Problem is I don't know which pile to dig in so therefore I can't find my video camera.

So, when all else fails, I do what anyone would do. I use the sub-par video recorder on my phone.

I know. The resolution in these STINK but you'll get the idea.

Anyway, our kids love David Crowder. In fact, they love him so much that they invited him to do a personal show in our living room.

How he loves us from The Beaver Bunch on Vimeo.

Heh. Okay. So maybe that wasn't Crowder. And maybe he was playing in front of a boxed springs that was waiting to go into the attic. And maybe his little sister was whining so much that you couldn't hear him mumbling through the parts he didn't know.

Oh well. You get the idea.


Next up, for your video viewing pleasure, is the EllaGoat. She's only 10.5 months old but don't let her age fool you. Look at who's talking walking now.

Look who's walking! from The Beaver Bunch on Vimeo.

I mean, can someone please tell her to stop it. And can everyone else please ignore my screechy, high pitched voice. I don't talk like that in real life. I hope.

3rd in line on the video reel is a little number from our oldest two girls. Both Ash and Elizabeth are participating in Upward Cheerleading this Spring (and I use the term "Spring" loosely folks) while their brother, Lucas, is participating in Upward Basketball. Last week was our first week of games. I also use the term "games" loosely.

GOOOO Upward! from The Beaver Bunch on Vimeo.

Last but certainly not least, I'll leave you with this little video by my sweet Olivia. The music is a ringtone that I used to have set as my ringtone for Luke. No lie, every.single.time. she heard the phone ring, she'd stop in mid stride and drop it like it's hot.

Clearly she has more rhythm that anyone in our house. Well, I mean, other than Luke. (I think she gets her moves from him - seriously if you click on that link - go all the way to the end. It's worth your time.)

Little O breaks it down from The Beaver Bunch on Vimeo.

Ignore how filthy my house is. I'd love to tell you that it's in atypical condition, but then I'd be lying. Don't judge me.

Y'all have an awesome weekend.

It's all in the reporting

Y'all, it snowed here again last night. Granted, it was just a "dusting" and as I sit here during naptime it's all melted away but still MORE SNOW.

Now, before you Northerners begin your comments of "Oh! We get 25 inches of snow per day and it's negative 80 degrees and I wear flip flops" let me just say,

SOUTHERNERS ARE FREAKS IN THE COLD.

I'll admit we ridiculously panic when the weather person calls for 2-3 inches of snow. With the forecast of snow looming over us, there's not a crumb of bread or drop of milk left on any shelf within a 40 mile radius of the television's broadcasting area. Schools have closed because of supposed inclement weather. I'm not even kidding.

I'm telling ya, folks. The quickest, most effective way to blow a southerners mind is to say the words freezing and rain in the same sentence as accumulation.

So today, when my Aunt posted a link to this video on facebook, I just about lost it. This lady is HYSTERICAL. Take 5 minutes and watch this.




My favorites:

"We don't know what's going on. What I do know that's going on is, THIS AIN'T COOL."

"If I was gonna deal with this kind of weather here, I coulda just moved to DC and been closer to the Obamas."

"TWO HOURS OF DUMB" - y'all, I lost it. That's hilarious.

"The Freedom Academy over in, uh, wherever it is over there in Atlanta, Georgia."

"Make sure you dressin' your babies appropriate for the weather, I don't wanna see no problems, then there won't be no problems. You understand what I'm sayin'?"

In other news....

"Stay off the crack pipe SIR!"

And, I'd like to close with my new favorite letter/blog/email closing:

"I love ya long and I love ya strong but please, don't be stupid."

~ Jessica

Friday Flashback: A trip to the dentist

On Monday, I'm taking Elizabeth, Olivia and Aaron to the dentist. It should prove to be eventful. I stumbled across this post from March of 2008 and I'm wondering if the Lord led me to it because it's prophetic in regards to Monday's visit. ;)

I mean really. I'm thinking that Olivia could play Ashlee TO A TEE and Aaron play Lucas.

What do you think? And who are those chubby faced kids in those pictures?

Mercy. Someone stop the clock.

--------

Original post from March 18, 2008:

Yesterday I took Ashlee and Lucas to the dentist. It was their 2nd trip, but the last one was 6 months ago and they were significantly easier to manage, plus I took back-up. This time, not so lucky. Taking Luke's advice, I also took the umbrella stroller (versus the double stroller, which is bulky) so that I could restrain one while the other was getting cleaned and checked.

The first task was getting them both from the van into the dentist office. This should be a somewhat easy task considering. However, our arrival coincided with the landscapers. Lucas was way more interested in the mower than listening. I knew that holding the hand of two 22 month olds and guiding (read: pulling, dragging, carrying) both of them in w/o the use of the stroller, plus carrying the freakishly large diaper bag would be next to impossible. Therefore, I decided to put Lucas in the stroller and carry Ashlee. It worked until I also had to juggle the door. Finally, we're inside!

Next comes getting both of them back into the dentist area. At our pediatric dentist (whom I LOVE by the way) has a bay where every single chair is out in the open. Therefore, all the twins see is "stuff to climb on." Picture me, pushing an empty umbrella stroller, carrying the freakishly large diaper bag and trying to control my two people using only the sound of my voice. Not so much working.

We arrive at our chairs, and I decide to let Lucas go first since Ashlee is the world's best follower. Seriously, if Lucas jumped off a bridge, 1st she'd tell me "Bubbie did!," then she'd jump too. Follower, in every sense of the word.

All went well until Ashlee's turn. Ashlee has a tiny bit of a temper. I know...hard to believe (ha) but she does. She was not feeling the dental hygienist. A fit ensued and the battle lines were drawn. I am holding her while she begins her "crocodile death roll." The hygienist is desperately trying to look at her teeth. Lucas, meanwhile, is "riding" (read: sitting) in the stroller saying (repeatedly),

"Ashe saaaaaaad." (Ashlee's sad)

Followed quickly by,

"I onnna riiiide." (I wanna ride)

This lasted for about 15-20 minutes.

Then it was Lucas' turn (again). Ashlee is so wound up by now, she can't calm down. She's in the stroller, leaned all the way over, her forehead literally inches from the ground, screaming her guts out. Meanwhile, the rest of the dentist office is running like normal. Other kids are getting their teeth cleaned, Lucas is being a good boy. I can only imagine the horror that the kids in the waiting room are feeling. Ashlee has a tendency to exaggerate. This was no exception.

Hysterical. We made it thru the entire check up, got our bouncy balls and went on our way.

As for today, it was fairly easy going. Here are some pictures from our time with markers and stickers.

My focused little man

Her eye is blacked by marker, not bruises

Ashlee, way too close

Lucas, practicing for the dentist

The.hardest.post.ever.written.(by.me)

Well.this.may.prove.to.be.the.hardest.post.I've.ever.written.

All.because.of.some.little.chubby's.grabby.hands.&.fingers,our.computer,and.a.cup.of.water.

bet.you.thought.this.was.going.to.be.emotional.and.heartfelt,huh(insert.question.mark).

Oh.yes.I'm.taking.blogging.to.a.whole.new.level.

OH.YES.I.AM.

Water.Damage.People.

WATER.DAMAGE.Apparently,Dell.doesn't.make.their.computers.water.proof.

Who.Knew(insert.question.mark)

The.said.water.(and.corresponding.baby)
damaged.our.spacebar.the.letters,"b"&"n"&.also.
the.arrow.keys.nor.does.the.question.mark.key.work.

Hence.all.the.periods.due.to.a.non-functioning.spacebar.

Wanna.know.how.I'm.typing.the.letters."b"&"n"(insert.question.mark)

COPY.&.PASTE.Oh.yes.

Do.you.know.how.many.words.contain.the.letters."b"&"n"(insert.question.mark)

I'm.too.lazy.too.find.a.question.mark.to.copy.and.paste.

So,Luke.&.I.are.trying.to.decide.what.kind.of.new.computer.to.purchase.

Should.we.get.a.....MAC(insert.question.mark)

or

purchase.another....PC(insert.question.mark)(Clearly,I.enjoy.accurate.punctuation.even.with.a.jacked.computer.Clearly.)

What.would.you.do(insert.question.mark)...you.know.other.than.continuing.to.write.with.
all.periods(question.mark)

If.you.don't.hear.from.me.for.a.few.days,I'm.trying.to.revive.a.drowned.computer.

Motherhood.Rocks.

The Stinky-waa waa Song

I found these kids in my house today. I thought about kicking them to curb since clearly I don't have kids this old (I mean, I just had them all like 2 weeks ago plus, I'm still young and hip - no comments about the Mom shorts please - and so I couldn't possibly have two 4 year olds and an (almost) 6 year old). But, then they serenaded me and I thought, "What the heck? I'll let 'em stay."

So, I present to you,

"The Stinky-waawaa Song"

Let me interpret for those of you who either
A) Don't understand little kids,
2) Live somewhere other than the south and you cannot decipher southern little kid
or III) Cannot understand due to the awesome audio quality of this video.

I'm a little striped skunk,
Sleeping under someone's bunk.
No one wants to sleep with me,
I'm as smelly as can be.

Stinky-waa-waa!

The preceding song is sung approximately 573 times a day around here, in varying decibel levels and with increasing silliness. Sometimes with hand motions or a small knee bounce for added rhythm. I use the word "rhythm" loosely.

Have I mentioned lately how much I LOVE my job? Because I do. A lot.

Due to the recent number of videos on the blog, can you guess what I found a couple weeks ago while unpacking a box? Yes, I know we've lived here for 3.5 months and I still have boxes stacked up in most rooms. Stop judging me. I moved boxes from our old house to here that had NEVER BEEN UNPACKED in the two years we lived at the old house. If you'll seriously look at the state of my home as I scan the camera around our dining area, you'll see that housekeeping isn't exactly my spiritual gift. I'd love a spiritual gift of a cleaning lady 2 days a week if anyone is looking to unload one. For free of course.

Also, please make note of the attire that my kids are wearing. Yes, Lucas and Ashlee are in their PJ's, even though they'd already gotten dressed for the day. Apparently, mid-morning calls for PJ's in our house. And, I will tell you that Lucas felt it necessary to take off his underwear under that offensively yellow night shirt that he LOVES beyond every other shred of clothing that he owns. Sorry if the neon yellow made your retinas bleed.

3 guesses who the camera hog is in our house.

It's never a dull moment around here. Never.

Winner

Remember this post? You know, the one that made me famous? Heh. Yeah, I'll admit I almost forgot about awarding a winner. I went back and forth, back and forth over whether to be lazy and award someone with stupid, useless Beaver points (which, I mean SOUNDS cool) or to award someone with an ACTUAL prize.

I chose a prize. I mean, if you like what I'm giving away, it's a PRIZE. Otherwise, use it as a coaster.

Annnyway..... (insert drumroll)

The lucky winner is the 8rd (chuckle, chuckle) commenter which was The Bannister Family! Congrats Bannisters! I'll be giving you a copy of David Platt's new book Radical: Taking Back Your Faith From The American Dream.

You can see my original post of Elizabeth's messed up birthday cake by clicking here.

And, as for clarification on the "fixed" version of the cake...if my memory serves me correctly (which most times my memory does not serve me at all, much less correctly so take this as you will)...

Almost 4 years ago, when I ordered this cake, I stood beside the lady as she wrote out our cake order. On her scratch pad she wrote, "Happy 2rd Birthday Elizabeth."

To which I said, "Don't you mean second?"

In turn, she scribbled out the entire "2rd" and wrote something, undecipherable, above it. Yes, I should have asked for further clarification. No, I didn't. Clearly.

And, just for the record, when I write "2rd," in my head, I hear the word "terd."

Poop is inevitable when you read my posts, people. Even when I talk about cake. Deal with it. I do do.

So serious

Sometimes, when I feel so serious, my Mommy can catch my eye...

...and she does something funny so I will flash her one of these...

...and so my Mommy keeps going until my tiny grin turns into this...

...and so Mommy keeps going, making silly sounds and faces hoping to get more of these...

...until finally my Mommy does something stupid...

...and then it's not funny anymore.

I'm 50

I just realized I have 50 followers. Which means absolutely NOTHING.

But...it DID make me think of this.



Hilarious.

Honk if you're delirious

Whew! With all the heavy emotion around here associated with those last two posts I feel the need to write something light and airy.

Not to discount the importance or the reality of the last two posts (and if you haven't seen my update on "L" please click here) but I'm one of those people who begins laughing at funerals because too much sadness makes me so uncomfortable that I can't control myself.

I'm serious. At my step-mom's funeral back in June I almost burst out laughing during the service. Not because I think death is funny but because I think God made my brain too small to process the emotions involved with death and eternity and so I go to what I'm comfortable with...stupidity.

Sad, but true.

Anyway, I had to tell you guys about my day yesterday because it is too hysterical not to share and besides if anyone who lives in my Mom's neighborhood actually reads this blog, it might explain my behavior yesterday around 2:00pm.

You see, a couple months ago our fabulous babysitter Amanda (that's a different Amanda than my BFF. Not that babysitter Amanda couldn't be my BFF it's just that she's not the same person and I didn't want to confuse you.) got in a tiny accident (that was totally not her fault) in our Big Red Beast. Basically, it broke the passenger side mirror and we've been waiting and waiting and stalling to get it fixed.

So yesterday Big Red was in the shop. Since I had a check up OB appointment yesterday as well (where I BARELY passed my 1 hour glucose test...thankyouJesus) I borrowed my parents' truck for the day while awesome babysitter Amanda kept the kids at the house. I'd been driving my parents' truck all over town without one hint of a problem (and apparently without making many left turns).

In fact, it wasn't until I started thinking about how well their truck was driving for having over 213,000 miles on it did the hilarity begin.

I turn off the interstate to head toward their neighborhood when suddenly someone pulls up very closely behind me and begins LAYING on the horn. REALLY honking I'm telling you, without letting up. I check the mirrors only to find that there is NO ONE around me.

I turn down the radio and realize that it is the sound of my own horn I'm hearing pulsing in my ears. Confused, I press on the center of the steering wheel. No dice. HORN STILL A BLAZIN' I tell ya.

I drive another mile or so with the horn never ceasing. Then, I make a right hand turn into my parents' neighborhood. The horn stops.

At this point, I start to chuckle. "Wow. That was funny." I think to myself.

I turn left onto another street.

On goes the horn. Honking without even a hint of a pause.

I smack the horn with my hand and it jolts off for about .0001 second then begins again.

I turn left onto my parents' street.

It continues as I drive all the way down my parents' street and as I turn into their driveway. Horn is STILL honking a single LONG honk. Uncontrollably.

Unable to contain my laughter I burst and my bladder threatens to do the same. I slam on the steering wheel and the horn stops.

I open the truck door to climb out and the horn starts.

I hit the wheel again and the horn stops.

I continue climbing out of the car and the horn starts again. At this point I'm certain that I'm going to pee my pants to I whack the wheel one last time and the horn shuts off. I do the pee-pee dance into my parents' house certain that I will hear the horn the entire time I'm inside.

I go back outside to wait on my Mom who is meeting me there in the next few minutes. I crank up the truck again and the horn begins to wail once more.

I smack the steering wheels and off it goes. Only to blare again a moment or two later.

This continues for the next 5 minutes.

As my Mom climbs into the truck and we drive to retrieve the Big Red Beast I recant to her the last 20 minutes of my life. We both laugh hysterically and the truck remains silent.

Apparently, my step-dad dropped a quarter down into the steering column a while back. When it bumps the wires, the horn honks uncontrollably.

For me, it happened every. single. time I made a left hand turn.

Imagine me, driving into my parents' neighborhood with the horn honking full blast and me inside, laughing uncontrollably and beating the steering wheel like nobody's business.

Yeah, I'm laughing now too. Or at least I hope you are 'cause I don't care who you are, that's funny.

To get you in the Christmas spirit...

...how about a couple Beaver family music videos? First up, for my southern fray-unds, some kuntry music....

Send your own ElfYourself eCards

Of course, for all you Hip Hop fans out there I offer the following, because my man knows how to shake his groove thang.

Send your own ElfYourself eCards

May your days be merry and bright. Merry Christmas!

(If you just followed that aforementioned link, be sure to just fast forward the video to end. Luke may be slightly upset at me linking to it, but I figured all of creation has seen it by now anyway, so thereyougo.)

Never did I ever

As a Mom there are often things that I say to my children that shock me. Often, it makes logical sense and goes directly with the flow of conversation between myself and either a three or five year old. However, most of these are things that I never, ever thought I'd be saying outloud (or even in my head for that matter).

"What did you just eat off your foot?"

"Please stop crying or I'll give you something to cry about."

"No, you may not eat your food while you go poop."

"Yes, you can put your sword in the refrigerator if it will help you focus on eating your lunch."

"No. We cannot have grass for lunch.....I don't care if that's what elephants eat for lunch, we do not eat grass."

"Please do not put things you pick off of your body into your mouth."

"I think I can wipe myself, thank you......I am a grown up."

"Because I'm a mean mother and I don't let my children eat candy for breakfast."

"No, when the baby gets here you cannot drink breast milk like a baby."

"Because showing someone your penis is not nice."

"We do not eat out of the trash can! Ever. Even if it is laying right on top."

"Please get your finger out of your sister's nose."

"Please do not bite your toenails."

"Because gum that's on the bottom of your shoe is nasty and doesn't need to be chewed."

"No. I will not name the baby Alligator Beaver....Yes, it does sound silly."

"What you just did made Jesus very, very sad....No, I'm sure He is sad and not asleep."

"Please do not lick the toilet."

What are some of the things you never thought you'd say?