FunnyBlog

I’m thankful for

frozen pies

frozen rolls
a turkey small enough to fit in my crockpot
redbox codes for FIVE free redboxes
(yes, we will probably watch all five in one day)
a family who is happy to spend time all by ourselves
a fridge full of food
a good book or the fourth good book in four days
friends who are smart and kind and thoughtful
(even when just an hour before doing something extremely thoughtful
they swore they were never thoughtful)
a singing baby in footed jammies and curls
(I always wanted ONE daughter with curly hair)
a place to live, no matter how humble
coupons
good weather
a working washer and dryer
cragislist – I made $20 today
good good kids (the best)
a husband I love
faith
peace
hope
grace
love
and
did I mention frozen pies?
and Sister Schubert rolls?

Peace and Quiet

Tonight I am grateful for peace and quiet.

I am not sure what is making me so grateful.
It may be living 24 hours a day with a very hyper 17 month old.
Or the fact that I am now the mother of a teenager.
Or that I have a daughter exactly like me who could talk non-stop all day.
Or the cheers and incantations that my only quiet child has felt loyal to practicing.
Tonight, LG is getting a sleep study.
I can’t wait until he gets his C-pap machine.
There’s nothing like a c-pap’d husband that can make a woman feel old.
For some reason, that just made me think the man was getting his yearly vaginal exam.
What is that? Not c-pap. But some other form of pap.
So, tonight, I am grateful for peace and quiet.
Because it may not be too much longer that I will enjoy this luxury through the night.
(Insert the sound of c-pap)

But really, I have found serenity.
In peace and quiet.
And I long for it.
Even if I only get it for a few short hours during nap time and before I conk out in bed at night.

I Get By With a Little Help From My Friends
At the end of last week,
when I was having a really bad day,
a friend showed up
with a beautiful sketch
and a hand written poem.
It told me to
keep having faith.
It was perfect.
And then earlier in this week,
on my birthday,
my husband and I weren’t speaking.
I am not trying to talk bad
about my husband
because I love him dearly.
It is what it is.
And it is as much my fault
as his.
But
what does a girl do
when she isn’t on good terms
with her bestest friend
on her birthday?
I contacted one of my
newest and coolest friends
and begged her to go to lunch with me.
She ended up paying for my lunch
and bringing me a gift.
And it was all so sweet,
but the conversation was the best part
of my day.
A lot of my other friends
had already planned a lunch for later in the week.
And I couldn’t call any of them because
we all had our kids home.
A lunch out for your birthday
is no fun with your kids.
And I had to eat out for my birthday.
And I really didn’t want to do it alone.
My birthday was on election day
and it was so nice of Knox County
to give the kids the day off
for my birthday.
As my girls grow up,
every day,
they are becoming greater friends to me.
It’s an awesome sight
to see them growing
into women.
Women who I want
to hang out with.
God is good.
He let me birth
some of my best friends.
They all know their mom well.
They let me sleep in
and baked me a birthday cake.
And they know how I feel about
birthday candles,
so they lit my cake up
for me to make a wish.
They said, “Hurry mom,
unless you want a wax cake.”
I did it.
I blew out
all 37 candles.
My birthday wish
was for my husband to
………………………
Now that I told you,
I guess it isn’t going to come true.
But it’s o.k.
that we still weren’t speaking
in time for him to take me to dinner
because two friends took care of it.
A friend on facebook recently
asked if Mormons put crack in their food
when they brought people meals.
Someone answered it
wasn’t crack she was tasting
but
love.
That Mormon dinner was scrumdeliumptious.
And so was the venting binge
with the friend
who had made it.
Understanding hearts and
big hugs are sometimes the best gifts.
Yesterday I had lunch with
the previously mentioned friends
at one of their homes.
They got me a mani/pedi
and Baskin Robbins
gift certificates.
They also gave me a framed picture
with a mom laughing with her children
entitled
“Time to Laugh.”
And one made me some
homemade salsa.
Again the conversation
was the best part.
And the
yummy homemade chinese.
I think it had crack in it.
Well, I almost made it through my week.
But I have been extra tired all week long.
I think we have a little bug.
This morning both Caroline and I slept until about 11.
Abigail walked in the door at noon.
She was supposed to be at school.
She said that she wasn’t feeling well.
And that Rita had brought her home.
LeGrand was out of town for the day,
and everyone had tried to call me,
but I never heard my cell phone.
We got rid of our home phone last week.
LG ended up calling Rita
who went and brought my sick baby home.
Where would I be without my friends?
I don’t think I would be getting by.
I love you all!
Thanks for helping me
scrape by.
Especially as of late.

Mom’s Revenge
I’m 37 years old today,
and the last thing I want for my birthday
is cake.
Why, you ask?
Keep reading.


 
This morning I shopped at Food City
so that the school would get a portion of my sales
for new computers next year.
Even though I may have gotten what I needed cheaper elsewhere.
 
(For the sake of this story,
let’s just pretend I shopped at Food City
out of school pride,
and not because it is
the closest grocery store to my house.)
 
I bought frosting with Box Tops on them
even though they were 50 cents more
than the generic brand.
The frostings I bought were in special containers
that had TWO boxtops
each worth 25 cents for my school of choice.
And my kids get prizes
from the PTSO
if they turn in the most boxtops.
 
I then proceeded to make
TWENTY
cakes
for the second grade’s
cake walk
at the school’s
fall festival tonight.
 
In case you are wondering
what I did for the third grade,
I already bought
items for their
gift basket
auction
last week.
 
Coincidentally,
last week,
I also bought
the
sugar free
frosting
for the third graders
to decorate their
healthy rice krispy treats.
 
The sugar free kind is
mandated by the federal government,
who doesn’t seem to care if it cost me
a dollar more than the regular
kind with actual sugar.
 
Oh, and for the second grade
I bought frozen yogurt
(also mandated)
and it
cost me $2
more than
the ice-cream
I would have preferred to eat.
 
I am sure that my kids
will not come home
tonight
without one of my cakes.
I wonder how much that is gonna cost me?
Not to mention
how many songs I will have to endure
as they hope they
get picked.
1/20 chance.
 
“Teachers,
I made 20 of those cakes,
please take mercy on me
after ten tries.”
 
And
tonight
when I get a bite
of my own
homemade cake,
that ended up costing me
who knows how much,
and gave back to
the school
more than my tax dollars,
I will smile
because somehow I beat
the federal government,
and got a cake
full of sugar
from a public school.
 
I will also be smiling
because I will
be 100% certain
that I am an amazing mother.
 
If only I had some
regular ice-cream,
instead of leftover frozen yogurt.
 
Oh, and did you notice
the silly bandz
as part of the packaging?
 
HA!
Two can play at this game.
 
Even though my cakes might be
 
smaller,
yuckier,
and
cheaper to make
 
you know my cakes
are gonna be way more
desired tonight
than those store bought ones.
 
Thank you to the
founders
of Silly Bandz,
who have also taken
who knows how much
money
from me
in
the past year.
 
P.S. I wrote this post yesterday.
It only took $6
to win a cake.
And Bella chose
someone else’s
cupcakes.
And nobody was choosing mine.
 
So much for mom’s revenge.
But, I am still the best mom in the world.
Because it’s my birthday,
and guess what my girls did
this morning.
They let me sleep in
and they baked me a cake
for breakfast.

Southern Drawls

The other day
LeGrand was getting onto Abigail.
How could she have a crush on a boy
who is always misspelling his texts?
I took the opportunity to tell him
that while I was on my mission
every time I read a letter from him,
I would cringe
and resist the urge to edit
with a red pen
and mail it back.
I know
I’m just a tad controlling.
But he had to admit
that I am about
the smartest gal in the world.
Not because I can spell
(for the most part)
but because I chose to marry him
before he could.
And he was in the 14th grade.
Abigail then said,
“Dad, it’s texting,
you don’t have to spell right.”
I am sure LeGrand
was secretly wishing that he
could have dated me via text.

Stuck
This morning while trying to fold laundry
the baby was out of sight
for a few minutes.
She began hollering.
I ran to the rescue.
She had climbed onto the kitchen table.
My last post makes this story even funnier.
This morning someone had left the maple syrup
in the middle of the table.
Of course that is Caroline’s spot.
I assume she had climbed up to claim it back.
In her 16 month old mind
I guess she decided to take that syrup out.
Out of the bottle to be exact.
The table had a healthy layer of syrup
across it’s whole surface.
And of course Caroline
had it all over herself too.
She was hollering because she didn’t know
how to get out of the mess.
If she moved, she would stick in place.
I scooped her up and put her in the bathtub.
Clothes, shoes and all.
I’m experienced like that.
We got the job done.
Caroline was stick free.
The clothes were in the dirty laundry pile.
And the shoes were washed out.
The table was also scrubbed
to shine.
Now that Carline is down for a nap,
I’ve had a minute to reflect
on my relatively unproductive day.
About how this little incident
parallels my life right now.
I feel stuck in the middle
of a lot of sticky goo.
No matter where I choose to move to
or even if I choose to sit,
it’s still not fun.
And I want to holler out for help.
I wish someone would scoop
me up and throw me in the bath.
And then clean up all the messes.
And then I remember that I am 37 years old
in three days.
And no longer 16 months old.
And I have to find my own way
out of messes.
Even if I don’t like syrup
and would have never
spread it across my living space.
I need an
Aunt Jamima size miracle.
And I am sure that God will deliver.
Because I am his 16 month old
who cries out of help.
Even when I am 36 and 362 days.

My Baby Announcement

Caroline is gorgeous.
All my girls are gorgeous.
I think I may be done having children.
I am not sad.
If I had to be done at some point,
I am glad to make this sweet girl the baby in the family.
She is so perfect.
But I am not.
And I am tired.
And old.
And I am afraid if I have any more
they will be completely neglected.
Every time I turn around,
this baby is into something.
She climbs.
She climbs.
And climbs.
She thinks her spot in the family
is sitting in the exact center
of the kitchen table.
She will find a way to get there,
no matter how many chairs I overturn.
And no matter how many times
I tell her no.
She finds electronic gadgets
and tries to drop them as many times
as she can
before she is caught.
She has broken
2 cameras,
1 laptop,
and a remote control
is lost forever.
Probably in the garbage.
She is constantly dirty
because her mother is lackadaisical.
It’s a good thing
that babies
with food on their faces
are so cute.
The girl will find
anything
that is not to be found.
We have nailpolish on our wood floors.
We have markers on walls.
We have ripped homework.
We have chocolate stains.
And missing shoes.
And not a single chapstick
that hasn’t been eaten.
When the fridge is open
and she is standing by
she goes straight for the tobasco.
Go figure.
She likes to suck the bottle.
I better not have any more children
or they may be taken away
by the authorities.
Oh how I love this child.
She is perfect.
Perfectly energetic.
She is a rambunctious dancer.
She loves to dance.
She loves to sing.
She loves to try and repeat
anything we tell her.
She calls everything and everyone
Jesus.
Because she has a picture of Jesus
above her changing table
and we practice his name
every change.
She can also say stinky ka ka
very well.
She hates bugs.
Freaks out at bugs.
She is a loud child.
She screams like nobody’s business.
She loves our dog and cat.
She LOVES her sisters.
She loves books.
She will open any book she can find
and read it to you.
It’s amazing how many books
are about Jesus.
She is strong.
She can throw a tantrum
that scares her father
who is 285 pounds.
She has the most amazing
attention to detail.
She is always watching
everything.
She thinks every cell phone
on the earth
belongs to her.
To do with as she pleases.
It’s like she has a cell phone detector.
If she is in the same room,
the same house,
the same car,
or the same soccer field,
and you pull out a phone,
she will be there for the grab.
She always wants to play on the computer.
I really think she is trying to program.
No joke.
She has the mouse down.
And the keyboard.
She knows how to open and close windows.
Did I tell you that she is only
16 months old?
I love this child.
I love her
differently than my other kids.
I think it’s because
she is the baby
in the family.
Or maybe it’s because I am
almost 40.
Did I mention how
tired I am?
And old?