Most of my blogs (the few I have) have been about food or something silly. Today though I was part of something that I am very proud of. A Lemonade stand. Now this was not just any lemonade stand this was a LemonAID stand. Several of the local kids, including my little chickens of course, got together and raised money for the Alabama Coastal Foundation to be used as part of the oil clean up. Mind you it is in the high 90's and the majority of the kids are 5. They did it though. Without complaining (well as much complaining as one would think from a 5 year old standing in the hot sun yelling "LEMONADE!") I was so proud. Here I was thinking I was teaching my kids this great lesson when I realized it was me that was learning the lesson. They already know it. They know everything they do is going to change the world around them. Not me, as an adult I have forgotten what I can do to contribute. Every dollar that went into their little hands was life changing for the animals that they are helping. I wouldn't have seen it that way before. I would have thought 'We need thousands! We can't get that much!' They do not see it that way. They see it as every little bit helps and adds up. They raised $500 in 2 hours. If I would have kept on with my thinking I would have raised 0 because I would have been so overwhelmed by it all. So once again it is me learning and them teaching.

An Ode to Mac and Cheese

I sit across the table staring at my kids. Before them a bowl filled with gooey, orange cheesy, deliciousness. *sigh* mac and cheese. Then I look down at my bowel of steamed vegetables. I am not a bad mom. Mostly my children eat whatever I make for the whole family but sometimes they get delicious treats that I don't give myself. Treats like, once again, *sigh* mac and cheese. E is devouring his bowl. Each bite he puts in his mouth he makes noises like its the best thing he has ever tasted. (He is taunting me since I took away his cars I just know it!) Sienna is literally licking the bowl. Cheese is dribbling down her chin. I stab at a giant floret of broccoli. With disgust I put it in my mouth. While I chew slowly I glare at them. Oh mac and cheese! Why must it be so very fattening. What happened to the days when I would eat bowls upon bowls of you and not feel guilty? Oh yes that's right. They went away the day I had those two little mac and cheese eating machines that sit across from me. Is there no justice? Must I live day in and day out lusting after pasta and cheese? I suppose I do. I suppose I will just eat these vegetables. I shout "Look a spider!" While both children look I scoop a giant forkful of their meal into my mouth. I mean I can't totally deprive myself.

Sitting on the toilet seat I ponder to myself “Is this how I imagined my life to be?” I can hear Backyardigans playing. Usually I do not have cartoons on in the evening but this is an emergency for heaven sake! For the moment I am alone. In the bathroom with my one true love.... Bryers Ice Cream. You see I cannot even wait an extra hour till they are in bed. I must have it now. There is not enough to share. Why should I share anyway? Do they not get enough from me? Must they take my ice cream too!? I am shoveling it down now, for I can hear the end of the show, “Now it's time for us to have a snack” the characters sing. I have precious seconds. NO! NO! NO! Brain freeze, to big of a bite. I power through it. Nothing is going to stop me from finishing off this container. Tiny footsteps. Then the knob twists. HAHA! I am smarter I have locked the door! I savor the last bite just as Sienna says ‘Mommy I need you!!!” and Eli says “Uh mama manariming churro peeeaaassee” or something to that effect. (One day I am going to find out that he really is asking for a churro and I will feel bad for never getting him a churro) Licking the top of the lid and pondering if I can reach with my tongue into the container corner. I shout back “almost done!” So I place the container in the cabinet, make mental note (that I will probably forget) to come back to dispose of the evidence, and with mommy smile ready, open the door. Oh and to answer my own question. Wouldn’t have it any other way!

Cherries! Heavens the Cherries!

I am a little late in posting this as it was meant to be posted weeks ago. So of course the days won't really make sense but oh well at least something new is going up!


In near comatose state I weakly tap at the keys to recount the final moments of my life. With such joy I left this morning to the grocery store. I had received the weekly sale advertisement in the mail on Tuesday. Since Tuesday I have been dreaming of the deep red, luscious cherries that were photographed on the very first page of the flier. SALE they beckoned me. $2.49 a pound! My God they are never priced so reasonably! I must have them! My mouth has water since Tuesday; I have woken in a cold sweat every night craving those dainty treats. They are Gods candy! Finally Friday comes I can wait no longer. I must go. I must have the sweet fruit. I walk into the Grocery store. I make a bee line for the produce section. No! Damn! The children cry for their free cookies. I am side tracked but only momentarily. I give them their sad little treats. Those cookies pale in comparison to the tasty cherries I soon will have. I walk faster only to hit my second road block. It's the produce man. How will I pass him? I have no time to talk. I am on a mission! I throw him off by making a quick side step to look at bottled water. I see him walking towards me from the corner of my eye but Ha-Ha the little elderly woman saves me! She has a question about Jicama. Quickly I go to the cherries. They are there. Glorious. Tons of them. I pick the best looking bag I can find. I lovingly place them in my cart and race to make my purchase. I get in my car. I cannot wait I have to eat them NOW! But they are unwashed. I must not but I do!!!!! I come home and go about my day. Feeding kids, playing with kids, eating Gods Candy. I go to refill my bowl of cherries for what seems like the 100th time and there are no cherries left! Where could they have gone? I purchased 4 pounds. That's right. I ate them. Every last one. My tummy rumbles. I feel a slight pain in my side. I rush to the lavatory. Oh the pain! The cherries betray me. They are not God's Candy…they are the Devils Laxative! I hope to make it through night. I have a garage sale tomorrow.

New Blog

So I am starting this blog to not only keep everyone posted on the family but also to write and post some silly stories as well.

A visit to the Medicine Man

I find that reading this with my hand draped over forehead with a southern damsel in distress voice really helps.

A cursed disease has struck me down. Its evil infection has worked its way into my fragile lungs taking hold of all my airways and strangling them with its fluid build up. I remain brave as I fight the retched mucus that refuses to leave. I tried my best to cure my ailment with potions, herbs and vitamins but to no avail. So I found myself at the local physicians office to help figure out what blasted illness had taken over my body. Sitting in the waiting room with all sorts of people I wondered what incurable disease had made my body its host. I was jolted out of my imagination when they called me back “MAUREEN” the very burly nurse with the smoky voice shouted. I slowly walked to her feeling as if I was walking to my impending doom. She quickly told me to stand on this dreaded contraption that read outlandishly high numbers as if too laugh ‘ha ha you will never weigh what you weighed before babies again!’ Horrid machine! Then she wrapped a cuff around me and began to pump horrible pressure all around my arm! I though it would never stop and wondered to myself what had I done to make this nurse, a woman who took an oath to help the people, harm me so. By the grace of God she let the air escape just as I was about to surely lose my arm. I was then lead into a cold dreary room where I was scrutinized with questions ranging from “how do you feel?” to “have you had a temperature” The nerve! Soon I was left alone to wait for the Doctor. There is not much to say about him because all he did was listen to my wheezing lungs and order the nurse to come in. I was thinking the cuff of death was as bad as is the torture could get but I was wrong. She entered the room with 2 long Q-tips. I was told to open my mouth were she then tried to stab at my uvula. I chocked and flailed but she just kept ‘swabbing’ as she called it. After not more then a minute my arm was stretched out to receive the longest needle ever! Not just one vial but 3 were filled with my precious blood. I began to wonder what sort of blood hungry factory was I in! Then I was left alone. Trapped in there little room for probably 3 days. Finally my results were in. Mycoplasma pneumoniae. Heavens was it curable!? Well apparently that meant walking pneumonia. Yes it was. Just a few shots and some meds. Soon the strongest woman I have ever seen came in “Hey baby pull down your pants” she told me. I was taken quite off guard but I knew she meant business so I did as I was told. The first one hit my left cheek. The Pain! The terrible pain! Then the second shot was given. I was feeling woozy I started to see spots. I turned to my torturer and said “I feel funny” and then…blackness. I woke up lying on the table. Pants still partway down. My hands shaking I was handed a small cup filled with a sickeningly sweet liquid. I lay there in pain and embarrassment. What else must I endure for this miserable disease? I was gently nudged out the door and for my trouble was handed 2 prescriptions. One antibiotic and one FANTASTIC cough syrup that helped me pen this little recap of the events that transcribed on Saturday morning.

* This story was ever so slightly embellished, except the pants down passing out. Oh yeah that totally happened much to my husbands amusement