ns4fbs

My not suitable for facebook status for today: Just caught the sweet baby licking the plunger. Took it away from him and fussed at him. He is still crying for it 10 minutes later.

Makes a momma proud.

(Orginally sent to friends via text in mid-September.)

It's The Most Wonderful Time of the Year

Yes ladies and gentlemen, it is that time!

The Austin City Limits Music Festival is upon us and I am so dang excited.

Our city is decorated with ACL billboards like ornaments on the Christmas tree.

And it makes me feel like at kid at Christmas.

I was out working on a school project with a few lady friends Monday night and all the ladies were talking about the festival this year. One of the gals mentioned this article that was in the newspaper.

I was laughing at myself this morning, because when I read the article yesterday, it kind of irritated me.

And then I had to remind myself that as long as their are women having babies and families raising children, there will be someone waiting to criticize them and offer a better way to do things.

I know lots of people roll their perfect eyes at the fact that we mostly take our kids to the festival all three days. Our general rule for all things during this time of our life is that we all roll together. We've got some common sense though. Last year when it was pouring, we let the Sweet Baby and Miles stay with our dear and trusted friend.

And the year before last, Wyatt was only a few weeks old and he was having a rocking good time at the festival.

And can you even imagine that when he was hungry, I fed him?

And you know, babies and kids need naps and those naps can only be taken at home.

And gosh, everyone knows it is just too loud for babies to attend a music festival. It is very very dangerous for their young ears.

And and there is NO WAY that a baby could actually have fun at one of these things.

We make a point to make sure that our kids are OUR responsibility and that they have great festival manners.

So for all of you out there that wanna poo-poo us for having an incredible time with our kids at one of the most outstanding festivals in the country, try thinking about your own festival manners.

I have seen way more adults act like idiots than kids. (And yes, I know that is a grown up choice.) But being drunk is never an excuse for having bad manners. NEVER. So when you are drunk and falling on me, I'll turn to my kids and remind them that YOU (not them) are the perfect example of bad manners.

And when you are SOBER and walking right across our blanket and knocking my $27 coke over, I'll turn to our kids and remind them that only assholes do idiot things like that without saying sorry.

So maybe the article should have said something along the lines of 'bring your kids and make them behave.' (What a concept.) And if you don't have control of your spoiled freak kid, then leave, or get a babysitter, or call grandma or whatever you need to do to keep the other 59,999 folks from being bothered by YOU. (And please notice that I put being bothered by YOU. Yes YOU. It is YOUR reponsibility to make sure that your kid does the right thing. NOT your child's responsibility.)

And if you are a grown-up acting a fool, you will be used as an example of how not to act when you are grown. See...ACL is actually a learning opportunity!!

And oh, I am still so so so excited!!! :)

Okay, I'll step off my box now.

NSFFBS #1

(Correctly guess which one of these country folk sent me the message and you might win a prize!)

I often send my real life friends text messages with 'Not Suitable For FaceBook Status' updates. They are usually pretty funny, sometimes disgusting and always MY VIEW of the world around me.

Most of the time, I don't think these thoughts and observations are suitable for Facebook because I don't want to get involved in opinionated conversations with people I barely know that I have to be friends with on Facebook. And I certainly don't want my crazy Republican friends to have to cross paths with my crazy Democrat friends. Geez, it'd be like keeping the crazy drunk uncle away from the Bible thumping aunt.

So here is my NSFFBS for today:
******
I love old friends. Got a message from one today and it said:

'I hope you have registered to vote. And I hope I don't have to tell you who to vote for.'

Ah, I love my home people.

A Sunday Kind of Love

I have spent the better part of the last coupla days complaining. Complaining because I am tired of waiting until payday. Complaining because I want the house to be cleaned. And complaining because stoopid sports has splooged into our Sunday and as a result, we have three games today. THREE GAMES. ON OUR SUNDAY. Say what? Say what say what?

I don't want to go to games on Sunday.

I don't want to eat the crappy groceries in the pantry.

I don't want to wash clothes.

Boy, am I am complainer, or what?

And then this morning, I realized it isn't all that bad.

Less than 24 hours til payday! WOO HOO!!

(Jeff working from home again. I guess things could be worse!)

I watched one of my favorite movies (The Family Stone) with the girls this morning. We had the windows open and were all laying on the couch just having the most perfect morning!

(Jena is a bathroom pro.)

Everyone has helped to do the house work and all of our primary living area are clean! Yippee!!

(It makes me so happy when Ella dusts for me.)

It is perfect weather to have all of the windows open!

(And this is how Ella picks up the toys behind the couch.)

The boys have been having a great morning playing together.

(Sam and Miles playing chest, while Wyatt looks on.)

And maybe this Sunday isn't so bad afterall.

(Another perfect day to enjoy a good book outside.)

I think I might actually enjoy sitting on the field in the perfect weather watching our kids have fun with their friends.

I just hope I have time to get a coke on the way.

If I Should Die

(Monday morning sunrise by Ella)

Tonite the three oldest kids and I went to the funeral home to pay respects for one of our former neighbors. When we left the funeral home, we had the most incredible, passionate, thought provoking dialogue about life and death and families.

You see, our former neighbor Jenny passed away. Jenny was an older woman with a grown up son. Jenny and her son Michael lived two doors down and they both suffered from mental illness. We were neighbors for close to 10 years and came to have a very trusting relationship. Jenny and Michael weren't the sort of folks that you invited over for dinner or went garage sale-ing with. They kinda kept to themselves. They could easily be candidates for the hoarders show AND the pet hoarders show. But they were nice to us. And they watched out for us. And I knew that if there was ever ANYTHING I needed, Michael would help me.

The kids also had a nice relationship Michael. This man that could have easily been scary to the kids became someone that they knew and trusted and a part of our daily lives. And even though we aren't neighbors now, the kids still go out of their way to say hey to him at the grocery store and are concerned for his well being.

Over the years of being neighbors, we rarely saw Michael and his mom have company. There was very little sign of family trying to help them out. Life was very hard for Michael and his mom. We knew that there was another brother. But really, it seemed like they had little to no family or friends ever around.

The point of this is, Michael's mom died this past weekend. Our very very favorite neighbor of all times, Denise, called us today and told us. So we went to the funeral home for visitation and to pay our respects.

I left the funeral home sad and frustrated and bummed out. The funeral home visitation room was jammed packed with people. Probably 50 or more. We saw the most beautiful pictures of Jenny as a cute toddler, a sexy young woman and a glowing mother. The same woman that we have seen with uncombed hair, bad teeth, constantly wearing a housecoat. She was beautiful. You could see love and joy in her eyes in every single one of the photos. How did Jenny go from a beautiful young woman, daughter, mother to living as a recluse in her house with her grown son and 30+ cats? How do those things happen?

We learned that in addition to her two sons, Jenny also has a daughter. What?!? A daughter. A grown daughter that looks just like some regular lady and is a school teacher. Holy cow.

I was shocked. The kids were shocked. Neighbors for 10 years and we never knew she had a daughter. There were so so many questions as we were driving away.

Where did all of those people come from?
Where were all of those people the past 15 years?
Why didn't we know she had a daughter?
How can you all be here and dressed in your finest and laughing and talking around this casket when you never tried to help her and Michael when she was alive?

So so SO many questions.

Families are hard to explain. The things that grown-up people do to each other are hard to explain.

We all think we are doing the right thing at the time. And then years go past and we have regret. Loads and load of regret.

At first I was full of judgement. A ton of judgement.

But then I came to my senses and remembered that I have no business judging. Every single one of us has something. SOMETHING about our family that could easily be criticized by anyone looking in. I reminded myself that I could be at the funeral for my parents and people could wonder where I have been all of this time. Or that our parents could come to our funerals and the people in our day-to-day lives could wonder why they haven't been more a part of our lives.

We just don't know what is going on in another person's home. There is just no way to know.

So, I made a pinky promise with our kids that I would always love them. No matter what. ALWAYS LOVE FOREVER. And that I will always be here to take care of them if they need me. We are family. That is what OUR family does.

I made them pinky promise me that if I go nuts, they'd either build a padded room for me in the basement or they'd come and visit me in the special hospital.

I also gave the kids permission to call the hoarders program and to remove the 600 pets from our house when things go a little crazy in my old lady world. And I apologized in advance for all of the things I am going to do to screw up.

And then I reminded the kids of how important it is to tell people that you care. Don't be the person that shows up at the funeral home with nothing but regret.

I could have never guess when I opened my eyes this morning that this is how our day would end. I am glad for the opportunity to have this conversation with the kids though.

And I will go to sleep tonight knowing that I am trying my hardest to make sure the people that are my people know how much I care.

I do really care.

**********************
The pictures were taken by Ella on Monday and today. Most mornings she watches the sun rise above our beautiful city on her way to school and she LOVES it. And she loves taking pictures of it. These are for Denise, because she is discovering how much she loves to watch the day begin too.

(The sun comes up over our beautiful city this morning as seen through Ella's camera.)

The Power of a Dum Dum

Sometimes when you are the youngest of 5, things can be hard. Like watching your siblings walk to school with their friends every morning.

Or watching your brothers and sisters gear up for a bike ride around the neighborhood.

And believing with all of your might that you can do it too.

And then they ride away from you, and your little legs can't catch up. And you just can't believe that they would actually leave you.

And then you tip over your tricycle and cry because you didn't have on a diaper and it really really hurt your hands and your private parts. (sorry no pictures of that, I was trying to soothe and calm both myself and the baby!)

So you come inside crying your eyeballs out and your mom realizes they only way to make this sadness go away is to give you a Dum Dum and turn on Yo Gabba Gabba.

And then you stop crying.
And when the first Dum Dum is gone, you cry again.
And before you know it, you have had three Dum Dums and your mommy has been able to wash some of the stoopid dishes. You know, the dishes that she put in a laundry basket and hid before the big 8 year old birthday party yesterday.

Oh the power of a Dum Dum.

Stink-a-Rama

What you see here is our fool-proof method to keep away visitors, solicitors, and robbers. Yes, the smell coming from these shoes is enough to penetrate through the front door. DIS.GUST.ING. BARF.

Even the dog doesn't want to walk through the front door.