Epiphany #2

WOW! We are watching the Oscars and Christian Bale just accepted his award. He spoke with an accent. It seriously took me a minute to realize that was his real accent, not the one he used in Batman. Then I realized that not only do Americans try to imitate foreign accents, but foreigners imitate American accents. Then I realized that people in foreign countries consider us the foreigners. Than I realized that Ephiphany #1 (see previous post) might be more true that I realized!!

Epiphany #1

After church this morning, Richard, Reagan, and I went to HEB to buy groceries. We ran through the store and filled the buggy up and made it to the checkout when Reagan said, "Gotta pottie!" So, I took her into the family restroom at the front of the store. It had the coolest new hand dryer EVER. It was a Dyson brand and you stick your hands down into it and pull them out slowly and it literally blew all the water off. Seriously, when I pulled my hands out, they were really dry. I stepped out the door and told Richard he had to see this - after all, it is the family restroom. That does mean any family members can be in it, right? Anyway, after he finished dying laughing at me, he told me at that moment he realized he really had married a country bumpkin. He said to him, my saying, "Honey, come here, you have to see this," sounded more like, "Huney, come on in here, you gotta see this here new fangled hand drying thingermajig." After I got over being mad at his laughing at me, I realized maybe I am just a little bit country, and maybe I like it that way!!

So...

It drives me crazy that my child, my intelligent, wonderful, smart, funny oldest fruit of my womb, can't do grammar for anything. Shouldn't he have learned that via osmosis while gestating inside me? Shouldn't he already know all of his comma rules? Shouldn't he be able to find a subject and a verb while blindfolded? His first writing TAKS test is next Tuesday and his teacher sent home some "extra" practice. We are going over it at the table and I am so excited to be able to help him with this because, this is "MY THING". I can't teach him to score a goal in soccer like Richard can, and I can't teach him to hunt like Cody can, and I can't teach him to play the piano like my mom can, but I can teach him how to revise and edit. I am good at it! I am darned good at it. Then we sit down at the table and read the first passage. The errors are jumping off the page at me and I am thinking, "This is a piece of cake." Then he starts trying to answer the questions and I'm like, "Seriously? You think there should be a comma between every word in that sentence?" I have failed my child in his time of need. But it was really cool when I started teaching him what I teach my students to do when they take their tests and he said, "Wow mom! You're such a better teacher than mine." Not sure if I really am, but it was wonderful to hear from him. If you think of it next Tuesday, please throw a little up for him during his test. He is really nervous and so am I.

BTW - The fact that he can't edit grammar very well doesn't mean that he isn't the smartest 10 year old on Earth - just wanted to be clear!

Runaway Notice

Connor: I am underappreciated (yes, that's the word he used)! I am running away.
Mason: Good.
Me: Please don't, that would make me sad.
Connor: Well, I'm going. Tonight after yalls all asleep, I'm outta here.
Me: Not going to happen - Cera will tell on you.
Connor: I will kick her and RUN!
Me: Are you sure about this? Do you want to run away before or after we go get pizza?
Connor: After.
Me: Before or after Sonic drinks?
Connor: After.
Me: Before or after we eat and play at the park?
Connor: Definitely after.
Mason: Runaways can't play video games.
Connor: I'm packing a charger, duh.
Me: Runaways don't have electricity to charge anything with.
Connor: Hummmm, okay - guess I will tell yall where I'm going. I'm running away to Nanny's. She has electricity!
Mason: That doesn't count.
Connor: Whatever.
Mason: Speaking of which, can I spend the night at Nanny's tonight.
Connor: Not if I'm living there.
Mason: Well I'm going to her house when I want.
Connor: Maybe it's smarter for me to stay home and you to run away!

Seriously! By this point in the conversation, I was laughing too hard to participate any longer.

Serious Thoughts

If you are reading this because you are expecting one of my funny anecdotes about our crazy family, you can stop reading now, that's not what this one is.

I have been so disconnected lately. I feel like when I am not worrying about the house selling and where we are going to be living, I am worrying about something else. I worry about the state budget cuts to public education. I worry about the federal budget and the value of the American dollar. I worry about our family's financial future. I worry about my parents financial future. I worry about a lot. I worry a lot!

Then I try to remind myself that most, if not all, of these worries are beyond my control, and as a Christian, I need to remind myself that at least something bigger than me, or the state government, or the federal government is in control. It doesn't make me stop worrying, but at least it keeps me sane.

Then I wonder what others in this crazy world, who don't believe in the higher power I do, turn to when they worry about the same things I do. Who do they put their faith in? How do they stay sane?

Then I pray for them to find the same calming presence in their lives that I have in mine.

Then I pray for my children, because I realize that is the most important thing I can do for their future.

Then I worry some more and the cycle starts over.

Not My Body

We were riding in the car this afternoon, listening to Britney Spear's "Hold It Against Me" and it got to the part, "If I said I want your body now, would you hold it against me." From the backseat I hear Connor say, "She ain't gettin my body. Pretty sure I might need it one day." Seriously? Where does he come up with these?

Oh my...

Last night I gave Reagan a bath and laid her down to bed. I then went to cleaning the house because the inspector was coming today. About thirty minutes later I heard the boys screaming like crazy. I literally walked down the hallway with dread in my heart because I knew it was something bad...and it WAS! Reagan had pooped in her pull-up and then proceed to use it to "fingerpaint". She decorated her walls, her chair, her mirror, her carpet, her pajamas, and herself - with her poop. The collage on the back of her bedroom door seriously showed her artistic side. It was beyond NASTY!!! I stripped her, gave her another bath, cleaned the walls, the door, the carpet, etc. The whole time I was just a griping at her, "Reagan, we do not play in poopoo - it is NASTY! We poopoo in the potty. Babies poopoo in their pullup!" To be really honest, I didn't always refer to the art medium as "poopoo". Yes I admit it, I said the "S***" word once or twice. I bet you would have too in my place.


It still stunk in her room, but I assumed it was just the aftermath of her destruction. I dressed her in a clean pair of pajamas and laid her down one more time. About five minutes later I heard the boys screaming again, and guess what. That little imp had "hidden" some under her Elmo and proceeded to do the whole process again. I was livid. I really don't think I have ever been that upset with one of my children in my life. This time, I spanked her hiney and she spent the whole time I was cleaning it up this time telling me, "Mommas not suppose to scare babies. You being mean, Mommy." I'm being mean? I wasn't the one who painted with poop - just saying!


After cleaning the whole room again, giving her another bath, another set of clean pajamas, and another round of yelling, she finally laid down and went to sleep.


I was still angry with her this afternoon, but then...


she walked into my bedroom while I was fixing my hair and asked, "Mommy, will you give me pretty curls like your pretty hair?" And my heart melted. What poopoo incident? It's like it never happened, but I still can't wait to tell the first boy she brings home from college all about it!