Archive | March, 2010

Day Two

31 Mar

(Black Rock Mountain State Park, GA)

Fisher has become so in-tune with nature, that he has sprouted branches.  I wonder what he’ll look like by day six?


Where I let slip some 90’s.

31 Mar

Ah, our first night in a week without children.  The possibilities were endless.  Back in the saddle of childlessness once again.  So, what did we end up doing?  The most exciting thing ever:

We took an hour-and-a-half-long nap in the living room.  Seriously, naps are da-bomb.  (Ooo, did I just say that?  Sorry, that’s my 90’s slipping through.) 

I know.  Lame.  I’d had great aspirations of things to do on our first night alone.  However, in the end, Jordan did take me out to eat for supper.  (Which was an epic failure.)  First off, the best BBQ place in town is only open at lunch and on the weekends.  Duh, you say?  Well, excuse me.  I have children and therefore am not privy to such information.  So we went to Chili’s.  (It’s a small town and that was the only other option when it came to ribs.) 

Chili’s for lunch?  Great service.  Chili’s at 6PM?  Still okay service.  Chili’s at 8:30PM?  What service?  Little did we know that the dregs of the waitressing world came out only at night.  Blech.  However, the food was good once it finally arrived at our table.  (The key word here being finally.) 

We returned home, full but jaded by the lack of service we’d received.  I don’t  mean to sound negative, though.  The night was not the night of excitement I’d envisioned, however it was still spectacular.  We left the house at 8PM to go out to eat.  When’s the last time we did that?  We drove home, in the dark.  Heck yeah.  I haven’t driven in the dark in ages.  That’s right, we got back home after our usual bedtime.  Bam!  (Agh, sorry Emril.) 

It was an awesome night!

Gosh, what could be in store for tonight?!  (eyebrow wiggle)

Park Bench for Two, Please.

30 Mar

The kids officially began their very first Spring Break today.  My Dad & Step-Mom have taken them camping in the North Georgia Mountains.

Siiigh.  When did they get old enough to travel without me?

Thankfully my Step-Mom is keeping my anxiety at bay with regular picture messages of their smiling faces. 

I know, heart-warming posts are not the most exciting/entertaining, but it’s monumental for me.  So, you’ll have to suffer through the milestone of independent childhood travel with me.  Aren’t you lucky?  (At least you’re missing out on the tearful-mom-moments.  Thank you, internet.)  Wink

Wii vs. Reality

29 Mar

After months of playing Wii Bowling with the kids, Jordan and I decided it was time to let the kids bowl with real balls and not controllers.  On Saturday, we headed down to the new bowling alley in town to test out their lanes and our luck.  Unfortunately, we discovered that Wii Bowling can be deceiving:

(Click to enlarge)

Jaden’s excitement over the game ended quickly when she picked up the ball for the first time.  Then the tears came:

Jordan: “Jaden, what’s wrong?”

Jaden: “It’s sooo heavy!”

(Click to enlarge)

Fisher was undeterred by the weight of the ball, even though it meant that he had to hobble his way up to the foul line to throw it.

Eventually, Jaden accepted the fact that the Wii had given her a false sense of Bowling smarts and began to enjoy the game.  She ended up winning the first round….with the help of gutter guards.  ;)

Fisher had a blast, even though he had a hard time remembering which fingers to use when picking up the ball.  Which, in the end, didn’t matter since he ended up treating the bowling ball like a shot put ball. 

(Hobble up to the foul line, wind up and chunk the ball down the lane with all your might!)

It’s a not-so-winning combination.  *wink*

The Fishman

26 Mar

Holy Geez, Fisher is graduating from Pre-K.

Siiigh. My maternal heart is swelling with pride.

Bask in the glow of his cuteness…go ahead, bask!

(I may have taken a picture of a picture…may being the operative word.)

Fishers’s Quote for the Day:  “I am going to be a good boy….today.”

(As if this was a limited time offer.)


25 Mar

You all know Lemon: the adorable dachshund that oozes innocence.  See those eyes?  Those heart-breakingly cute eyes?  Okay, keep that in mind as I recount to you what happened last night:

Wednesday is grocery day.  I get off of work at 5PM, go to the grocery store and usually get home by 6-ish.  By that point I’m dragging my feet and usually cook something easy for supper.  Last night we had hot dogs with baked beans and corn.  Mmm, starchy goodness.  Our arteries leapt with joy. 

After supper was over, I headed off to soak in a hot bath in an attempt to regain some energy so that I could clean up the kitchen.  It was glorious.  I exited the bathtub a new woman, full of energy with lobster-red skin to boot. 

As I walked back into the kitchen to start cleaning up, Jordan met me at the door with a smile on his face. 

“You will not believe what I caught Lemon doing.” 


“She was trying her best to get up on the table to lick the dishes….I swear she’s part cat!” 

Oh, Lemon.  You sly dog, you. 

Not thinking much about it, I started to clear away the table.  It was then that I noticed that something was missing.  Both of the children’s corn cobs were missing from their plates.  (Cheese-and-rice!)  How do two perfectly-immobile corn cobs disappear?!  Leeeeemon!  (Cue the sad/innocent doggie eyes.)  Aw, come on! 

Seriously.  The idea of two, juicy corn cobs hiding out somewhere in my house freaks me out.  Ick.  So, what did I do last night?  I went on a corn cob hunt.  Because that’s what all normal, American families do at night.  Forget easter eggs, we’ll be hunting corn this year.  Siiiigh.

And did I find them?  Oh, no.  Of course not.  Evidentally corn becomes invisible once it’s been chewed to death.  Free of kernels, it becomes corn-chameleon.  Able to blend in with its surroundings seamlessly, it can go undetected for days.  

So, if you stop by for a visit, just know that there is a $5 reward per cob for anyone who can find them.

Words of a Tenant:

“Since you’re evicting me, can I get back all of my rent payments?” 

Um, that’s a negative.

Oh, the secrets these pits hold.

24 Mar

 Unfortunately for you, dear reader, life has been like a bad re-make of Groundhog DayThe days have passed by, each the same as the last without much excitement to report.  (Unless you count the fact that I managed to cut my finger on tin foil last night…No?  Okay, I’ve got nothing.) 

Sooo, not wanting to leave you high and dry without nary a word to read, I’ve decided to divulge a little secret of mine.  Now, don’t get all excited.  It’s not like I’m admitting to using Limburger as toe separators when painting my toes.  (Soft yet firm!)  No. That would be too much.  It’s just a little thing I do when my hands are cold:

I use my husband’s arm pits.

(Agh!  I know.)

Don’t knock it ’till you try it!  They are so warm and toasty.  So manly and Rightguard-fresh.  They encapsulate my frigid fingers so well that I can’t think of a better source of heat.  Ahhh.  They are the perfect pits.  I don’t even have to ask.  With just a touch of my hand, Jordan assumes the position:  Arms up and ready to receive. 

I know, I should invest in some gloves, but gloves don’t produce their own heat.  Plus, they’re not attached to my husband, who is ever-so dashing and handsome.  Wink

So, there you have it folks.  You’re welcome.