A Week of Posts in One

I still can't get any videos to upload. I'm not really happy about that, but I'll keep trying.
I'm behind on several posts. Maybe I'll catch up over the weekend.
Here's a quickie to hold you over until then.
That's what she said.

Sweaty heads from soccer games are the best.

Reese drafting an additon to our house is the best.

Getting a pumpkin shaped wisk in the mail from Kristie (hollah!) is the best.

We used it to make these:
Mmmm cupcakes are the best.

Homeless Hannah's arrival in the mail is the best.

Cutting off Quincy's mullet is the best.

Super-fort building on Pajama Day with my preschoolers is the best.

Playing "choo-choo's" with this guy is the best.

Glow in the dark Skeletor Jammies on Baby Guy are the best.

Putting up the gallery of Fall photos is the best.

Preschool, Soccer, "things that are NOT awesome", our Welcome Fall Night, and a few Finished Projects posts coming soon.

Ok, maybe not real soon, but eventually.

Be Grateful

I'm grateful for good friends and an awesome family.

I'm grateful for weather that doesn't melt me when I go outside.

I'm grateful for my KitchenAid mixer.

I'm grateful for my little business, and the sweet kids that fill me with joy each week.

I'm grateful for answers to prayers.

I'm grateful for my fenced yard.

I'm grateful that my MiMa taught me to mix cereal, particularly Raisin Nut Bran and Cinnamon Life cereal.

I'm grateful that I get to do every day what I've always dreamed I would do with my life.

I'm grateful for take-out and frozen pizza, 'cuz sometimes, that's just what kind of day it is.

I'm grateful that my mom taught me to laugh.

I'm grateful to have a daughter that has taught me that :

I am stronger emotionally than I thought I was,

I am less patient than I thought I was, and

I can love much more than I ever thought it was possible to love

I'm grateful that Aaron decided to coach Reese's soccer team, because it is so fun to watch him fire up, encourage, and teach the girls, and that makes me love him even more.

I'm grateful for my savior, forgiveness, repentance, and the ability to change

I'm grateful that I can watch my favorite shows Hulu when my kids go to bed

I'm grateful for children and babies that sleep

I'm grateful that one of the other mom's from Reese's soccer team handed me a pair of practically new nike cleats that her daughter outgrew, and they fit reese perfectly.

I'm grateful that Reese was willing to wear them....because they look totally cute, and make her even more adorable in her little soccer uniform.

I'm grateful that I was able to sit around for 2 hours yesterday and read a good book. (Have you read The Help by Kathryn Stockett? Good book.)

I'm grateful for my Paula deen pumpkin spice candle, not just because my house smells yummy, but because the candle itself comes in a pretty jar.

I'm grateful that a friend told me today that her car is messier than mine. Even if I think maybe she was lying, it still makes me feel better.

I'm grateful to have discovered the Basil in my yard thriving among the overgrown weeds, yesterday.

I'm grateful for cool Halloween decorations and fake spider webs.

I'm grateful for the squeegee I had handy to kill the HUGE spider dangling from the not-fake spider web by my fence on Saturday.

I'm grateful for primary music programs.

I'm grateful for OxyClean and Scotch Brite kitchen sponges.

I'm grateful for tea parties with cheese-its and water under my kitchen table.

I'm grateful for date nights with my husband to look forward to.

I'm grateful for my strong (ahem, stubborn) will and my love of work.

I'm grateful for the people of McDonald County, because without them, I would probably have been the only person at Walmart with a hole in the crotch of her pants.

I'm grateful for the lovely Crepe Myrtles blooming in my yard

I'm grateful my jeans fit again, because it was cold outside this morning.

I'm grateful for the school bus (mostly....the school bus radio needs to go.)

I'm grateful for Corbins big beautiful brown eyes.

I'm grateful for bottled water, because the tap here has dead algae in it and it that tastes disgusting.

I'm grateful to live in such a beautiful place.

I'm grateful for my dishwasher.

I'm grateful for my bestie, and for the cinnamon bears in her purse.

I'm grateful for new carpet.

I'm grateful for the multitude of sins that can be hidden by black and white photos.

Speaking of photos, I'm grateful for my wall of pumpkin patch pics.

I'm grateful for Quincy's teeny tiny squishy bum, carefree personality, and love of sweets.

I'm grateful for chapstick and lipgloss that cover up my stress-induced cold sores.

I'm grateful for Aaron's perfectly timed one liner movie/tv quotes.

I'm grateful for running shoes.

And I'm kind of grateful that my laptop is dying and only lasts about 20 minutes before it shuts itself down, because it limits the amount of time I spend on the computer, and I can get back to life with less distractions.

What are you grateful for, today?

Meet Flattop Mike

OH BOY are YOU in for a treat tonight, folks.

Down the street live Doug and Gloria, their daughter Marnie, and her husband Flattop Mike and their 3 kids. VERY nice people. A little...ok a lot Arkansas.
These people are the real deal.

Doug is a "collector", and has a yard full of scrap metal and "antique" treasures under a series of tarps. Yup. Tarps. The likeness to the set of Sanford and Son is so uncanny, I secretly hum the theme song when I see Doug and Mike out in the yard.

I used to refer to them as the hoarders, but that was before real life Hoarder Henry moved in and set up camp across the street. Since then, I've been without a good nickname, until yesterday.

(Speaking of yard crap) I had a garage sale this weekend.
I'd hoped to sell my old kitchen table, the extra baby crib, and our red sofa, but people were in more in the market for items from the "crap we really should just throw away, but we'll hang onto it since we're having a garage sale next month" department. I have no complaints, as I made an easy $200 off that department. It feels so good to get rid of stuff. I love my home, but one of my biggest complaints is lack of storage. With no basement, no attic space, no laundry room, no kitchen pantry, and all of our bedrooms occupado, we often feel like we are bursting at the seams of this place. And since we aren't going anywhere, some of our junk had to go. Simplify. Purge. Simplify.

So at one point, my yard is full of people so awesomely fit for blog fodder, Kasey looks at me and says, "WHY do I not have my camera right now?" I take a look around, and realize, WOW.
Yeah, it really was that great. I'm sorry to say we missed our opportunity. One guy carved his initials in my lawn when he tested out a lawnmower. Seriously. There's a big letter D in my side yard.

So while we are laughing away at the missing teeth, beer bellies, "fixin' to's", and Razorback neck tats, I see Flattop Mike coming up the street.

"Kasey. Get your camera ready. I PROMISE you will not be disappointed."

Flattop Mike is classic. I think yesterday was the first time in 6 months that I have seen him with a shirt on. He's a close talker, and he taps your arm or nudges you if you appear uninterested in whatever story he has to tell...and he always has a story. He will tell you in e-v-e-r-y conversation that he used to be a cop in Little Rock.

Yesterday, there was no shortage of stories from his days working for the Fuzz, and we were the lucky prisoners in his captive audience. And now YOU can reap the benefits of our torture.

If any of you ever wonder if I am exaggerating at all when I blog tales about my neighbors, I think this video should clear things up.

Behold, I give you just a taste of Flattop Mike.
I call this video, The Fuzz.



You. Are. Welcome.

C that.

my laptop is dying, so posts might be sporadic over the next week until it is either debugged or replaced.

Today, during preschool, I successfully helped a child overcome a major fear of the vacuume.
It was a better feeling than getting ten A papers.

Ok, so I may have gotten a C on my assignment last week.
And I may be totally, absolutely, horribly, geographically and historically challenged to the point that this World Civ course will eat me alive, then spit me out with nothing but feelings of inadequacy, anxiety, and a doubt that I'll survive the next 10 weeks,

BUT
I am dang good at my job.
I love my job.
At least I've got that figured out.

I just rewrote the paper.

Not really, though. Basically, I just started over and wrote a completely different paper.
Hopefully this one will fare better than a C!

On Being a Responsible Pet Owner

Reese has been asking for a puppy a lot lately. She fell in love with HolleeAnn's Chiweenie pup, Coco, when we were in Ca and has been asking for a dog of her own ever since. I've tried reminding Reese that she really only liked Coco when she was "wrapped up like baby Jesus" and asleep in her lap. When Coco was awake, Reese was still a little afraid of her.

But now she has tied the sash from one of her dresses onto a Silly Band and secured it around the neck of a stuffed puppy. She's named her dog, Gracie, and takes her everywhere. She takes excellent care of Gracie and has made her a bed, and scavenged up toys and a water dish for her.

Then she pulled a fast one on us.
"How about if you guys watch how well I take care of my Gracie, and then you'll know I can take care of a real dog by Christmas?"
Now let's take a look at how two different parents (who were only halfway listening to the meaning of her question) respond from opposite ends of the house:

Meg's response: We see that you are taking very good care of Gracie. Someday, when all of the kids in our family are much older and we are ALL ready for a pet, we will talk about getting a dog. Until then, you can play with the dogs at your friends' houses and take care of Gracie.

Aaron's response: Yeah. Sounds good.

Reese: Thank you, Daddy! Hey Mooooooo-oooooom! Guess what.....

Thanks for destroying Plan A, Aaron.
I tried explaining the difference between a real pet and what a fine job she is doing at caring for Gracie, but she wouldn't hear it.

So today, I will launch Plan B
When Reese gets home, she will find that I had to put Gracie outside because she pooped on my carpet, then ate a pair of shoes that were left out.

Until she gets that Gracie under control, there will be no real dogs in our house.

I'm thinking Gracie is capable of doing all sorts of naughty things.

Dancing in September

This guy

is walking!

He took his time. But one day, I played this song:
and he stood up, shook his booty, then took four steps.
He's everywhere, now...and we love it. Way to go, Corbin!

So if you've read the previous posts, you know that the end of this week turned sour pretty quickly. After an attack of Montezuma's Revenge (minus the exotic vacation) hit this afternoon (because we needed some icing on our poop cake of a weekend), Aaron took the kids for a drive and I went to bed for awhile. I woke up to the symphony of noises that were indicative that my family was home. Girls fighting, girls playing, girls fighting again, Quincy's contagious cackle, football, Corbin opening and closing cupboard doors, little feet running up and down the hallway and around the circle formed by our living room, kitchen, and dining area, clanking on the piano, requests for water, a snack, etc. Aaron teaching the girls to say "throw me the ball" in Spanish, Quincy making up her own version of spainsh -a funny combination of sounds then ending in "poop"- then both girls laughing until they fall over, Reese cheering for Corbin as he walks to her, etc.

This weekend was a counter productive one as far as all the things on my "list" are concerned.
But I just have so much to be grateful for that I think I'd be wrong to acknowledge all of the negative things that happened without giving recognition to some of the good, the first being my awesome family. My kids are great. I love them so much. Tonight, before bed, we played a Toy Story version of Yahtzee while talking like pirates. In that little 15 minutes of attention that I gave my kids, I felt better than any medicine, hot soup, nap, break, run, or vacation from the craziness, could have done.

I don't think that my idea to "think positively" was a bad one, but I was pissed when it didn't work to fix the hex of lousiness that had taken over our house. I've decided to embrace the crazy happenings and move on. I can't fix the plumbing, rewrite my paper, un-sick Quincy's ears, clean the garage, finish hanging the shelves, clean the blue (yes, blue. This time, a cocktail of face paint crayons and washable marker) stain from the new carpet, help with homework, apply for graduation, finish the book I'm reading, give Q a haircut, deal with a denied insurance claim, nurture my children, or do all of the other things that pull for my attention all in one day. So I'll do them one at a time, do what's most important first, and the rest doesn't matter.

Hopefully, by next weekend, things will start running a little more smoothly around here.

I'm grateful for the healing power of my family. Kisses from my daughters, words of encouragement from my husband, and the warmth of tiny, chubby, sticky lil' baby arms that wrap around my neck and tangle in my hair are the best fix for a broken day.

Cuz I'm Keepin it Real

and while I posted that, little Corbin squeezed a bottle of red glitter paint onto the carpet.
Good thing he's cute.