Archives for 2012

You give me fever

March 27, 2012 by Kelli

In eighth grade, three of my cousins came to live with us for a year. My cousin, Meagan, and I had always had a pretty unique, sisterly kind of bond even before she came to stay, so having her there for a year was like having a real sister for a time. We laughed, we fought, she took my clothes…

One thing Meagan and I always conspired to do together was try to get sick at the same time. If either one of us started to feel bad, we would drink out of the same cup, chew each other’s gum (I know, gross), cough in each other’s face in an attempt to both end up sick at the same time so we could stay home from school together.

It worked more times than it didn’t.

This is the part where you start to pity my mom.

One of the times we did this compeltely backfired when we both ended up with the nastiest case of strep throat imaginable. We were not enjoying our time off together. In fact, we kind of thought we were dying together.

We ran such high fevers that my mom had a mild freak out and we all trekked to the doctor, Meagan and I moaning the entire way there. Her fever was in the high 105’s, mine was in the 104’s. And we had done this to one another.

So maybe it’s a bit of cosmic payback that I have children who run fevers that settle in the rafters. I dunno, but last night as I cradled my daughter’s feverish body, her temp measured 105.5. Cue freaking out. Cold bath, cool rag on the forehead, medicine. All of it worked together to bring her fever down to…

103.5.

Not good enough. More medicine, another cold rag and a bit of prayer seemed to help. I laid down with her in bed, her little body all shaky and achy. “Mom,” she croaked. “I had a scary dream.”

“What was your dream?”

“I dreamed that I was dying.”

Cue double freak out. Poor, sweet baby girl.

We prayed and she quickly fell asleep. When I checked on her about an hour and a half later, the fever had broken. Of course she woke up at 3:00 hot again. She snuggled up next to me in bed and it felt like spooning a radiator. She talked in her sleep and I held her hot little hand. Together we weathered a long, fitful night.

This morning her fever is low and her eyes less glassy.

And this Mama, though exhausted, is quite relieved.

I also feel the need to apologize to my mom for giving her multiple heart attacks over the years when I spiked high fevers. So I guess this is where some of the grey hair comes from?

Anybody else have kids who like to run super high fevers?

Filed Under: Family, Kids, Motherhood, Sickness, Tia Tagged With: high fevers, kids and the flu, Motherhood

I haven’t read Hunger Games. Gasp!

March 26, 2012 by Kelli

Once again I’ve rocked your world with a title that screams creativity, yo.

So I haven’t read the Hunger Games trilogy yet. And to answer your obvious question, I don’t really know why. It’s a combination of reasons, really.

I’m busy.
I’m not interested.
I have a million and four other pressing matters that need my attention.
I have four unfinished books sitting by my bed and I can hear them weep at night because I’m not reading them.

You know…stuff like that.

To be honest, I’ve never understood the whole read the book, see the movies craze. I find it baffling. I loved the Twilight series, but haven’t seen a single one of the movies (though I did watch part of the first one on TV the other night…meh). I think Harry Potter is hands down the best series of books I have ever read, but I haven’t seen the last three or four movies.

Because the books are so amazing.

Seriously. There are very few films that have really done a great book justice. I hear the Hunger Games movie did a pretty good job, but most people agree, the book is better.

I’m the type of person that really loses herself in a book. I get immersed in the story so deeply that pulling myself back to reality can sometimes feel like a chore. When the story ends and I close the book, if it’s been a good book, sometimes I’ll sit and let myself wander through the world I just read about. I become a part of it. If a book is good enough, I will often feel a sense of loss when the story ends.

I felt that way for a week after I finished reading Harry Potter.

I don’t feel the same way about movies. They don’t incite my imagination the way a real, live book does. I need to feel the weight of the story in my hands. I need the fatigue of a late night reading to push my imagination just a step further. I need to read every word – every detail – to understand and appreciate the characters.

Movies are good, yes. But books are better.

I am trying to teach my kids that lesson. If there is a movie version of a particular book, I’m trying to read them the book first. We are currently reading The Wonderful Wizard of Oz, then I plan on showing them the movie. Sometimes, of course, this backfires. We read Dr. Doolittle earlier this year, then I showed them the Dr. Doolittle movie.

It sucked.

Movies can ruin books sometimes, too.

Another reason I’ve hesitated to read the Hunger Games is I’ve heard through ~~the grapevine~~ Twitter that it’s just a really poorly written book. One woman even posted a picture of a paragraph on page three of the first book and urged everyone to grab their red pens and have fun.

It was pretty bad.

I’m not a book snob by any stretch of the imagination. I don’t proclaim to be the goddess of grammar. Obviously. I’m pretty sure every single one of my blog posts boasts a glaring grammatical error. But I measure books by entirely different standards. I like to think that gives me a little depth as a person, you know?

No? Not really?

Whatever. Young adult fiction or not, a book still needs basic sentence structure. I trust that the story and plot of Hunger Games are so good that I could eventually overlook the poor writing, but I don’t know. It makes me a little nervous so I am avoiding altogether.

The issue of time is the biggest reason I’ve shied away from the trilogy, though. I can’t afford to not sleep over the next few weeks so I’m sticking to light, brainless nighttime reading – like PEOPLE magazine. Now there’s some reading to be proud of, folks.

So what about you? Have you read the Hunger Games books? Did you love them? Did you go to the movies this weekend dressed as a child warrior? It’s okay if you did – I won’t judge…much.

*wink, wink*

Image credit

Filed Under: Random, writing Tagged With: bad writing, Hunger Games, I don't know how to tag this post

Friday Fotos

March 23, 2012 by Kelli

Are you all not completely blown away by my stellar titles this week? Pure genius.

A few ~~photos~~ fotos for you this Friday morning. These were all taken by our friend Sarah who, along with her friend Kristiana, spent the week loving on our family. Awesome? I think so.

Check out those tiny little muscles. My four year old is ripped.

Sweet girls

We have watched this sweet girl grow up and love her so much.

Happy weekend, everyone!

Filed Under: Family, Florida, Friendship, Photography Tagged With: Florida, FRIENDS, Pictures of Happy Kids, Spring Break

Just a few things

March 21, 2012 by Kelli

Nutella = The nectar of the gods.

I can’t seem to remember what day of the week it is. This has been a crazy, awesome, exhausting, amazing week full of friends, family and very little sleep.

I want to write something super funny that will keep you laughing. But I don’t feel funny right now. I’m happy, content, filled with joy but not feeling overly humorous. I am feeling sore, though, thanks in part to the FOUR vaccinations I received yesterday sandwiched in between two really tough workouts.

Why do I do these things to myself?

I don’t know.

I’d say it makes for good blog fodder but clearly it doesn’t. I did write an entire post on getting my shots but decided in the end that it wasn’t funny enough to post since I didn’t actually faint when I got them. I just sucked on a Dum Dum and laughed inappropriately to compensate for my terror of needles.

Today Thor gave me a free evaluation and training session at the gym. It was a sign on perk. He measured my body fat (like that’s not at all intrusive) and asked me about my sleep and eating habits.

I *might* have lied a little. But that’s just between you and me, m’kay?

I did make the mistake of telling him that my biggest struggle in working out is not pushing myself hard enough. He exercised vigilante justice on my laziness and was all, “I’m doing this to show you what you’re capable of.” So I kicked him in the shins.

No I didn’t.

That would have made for a cool blog post.

Between the shots and the evil overlord’s (yes, I know I just called him Thor but I like to mix metaphors every once in awhile to keep you on your toes) torture session I can’t lift my left arm above my waist. I do have a rather large bump at the top of my arm, though, which looks kinda cool from a certain angle.

From other angles it just looks weird.

I need to take my typhoid medication tonight. I didn’t know what typhoid was until I googled it. All I could think of was Little House on the Prairie and images of being packed in ice came to mind. I’d rather not get typhoid. It sounds awful.

Our friend Sarah is visiting this week on Spring Break with one of her friends. The nicest two college girls I have ever known in all my existence are staying in my home, playing with my children and making me feel young again. I can’t tell you how much it warms my heart to have them here.

The twelve pound jar of Nutella is back. I did NOT tell evil overlord Thor about the Nutella. What he doesn’t know won’t hurt him. It might kill me, but Thor and his oversize muscles will be safe and I will die happy so mum’s the word. We actually dropped the can the night after we got it and it was so heavy that a hole puntured right in the side. Our first reaction? SAVE THE NUTELLA!

Don’t worry, no Nutella was lost and the jar now sports a rather radical looking bandage in the form of painter’s tape.

I’m thinking I need to start cooking with Nutella. Maybe then I’ll finally have something to Pin on Pinterest.

I haven’t logged onto Pinterest in over a month. Commence with cyber-stoning NOW.

Tomorrow we have to take the kids to the Post Office to have their Passports renewed. We’re trying to decide which one of them we like the most so we don’t dip into that child’s college fund to pay for it. It’s a toss up on which one we’ll choose.

I’m just kidding. We don’t play favorites.

Most days, anyway.

Have I mentioned that this has been an extra fabulous week?

Too bad it hasn’t produced stellar blog posts, eh?

*sigh*

Tell me about your week. What’s made YOU laugh? Do you want to compensate for my lack of funny by sharing something extra humorous? Anybody? Anybody?

Bueller?

Filed Under: Random Tagged With: Nutella, Personal Trainers, Random Posts, The not so funny post

The one where I join a gym

March 20, 2012 by Kelli

I joined a gym last Friday – hence the ultra-creative title of this here blog post. It was time. I held off joining a gym for eight months because I wanted to see if I could do it. I wanted to see if I could save money and be disciplined and work out on my own at home.

Turns out I’m a total wimp when it comes to exercise. While my husband morphs into He-Man before my very eyes with nothing but a few barbells and shear determination, I have turned into a cream puff. Not cool.

Friday night was my first workout and it was…interesting. I chalked it up to being Friday evening, but I felt a bit like I’d stepped into a meat locker. I’m used to working out with all the other smokin’ hot minivan moms. Gym time is social time. We laugh, we chat, we sweat off all our stress. Sure there are a few bumpy muscle men milling about, but mostly we rule the proverbial roost.

But I was in the minority Friday night. It was mostly men in muscle shirts grunting and gabbing while us few moms walked among their smelliness trying to look as interested in the weights as they were.

So last night I went back, assuming that there would be a little less testosterone and a little more estrogen to help me in my journey toward total fitness AWESOME. (Incidentally, my friend Melissa has labeled her spring fitness craze “Operation Badass,” which I just think is the greatest title evah.)

Tonight was worse! I kept wondering where all of the other minivan moms were. And then I noticed a packed Zumba class and realized, “Aaahhh…there they are. They all know better.”

Clearly I’m a newbie.

So I powered through my workout and as I did, I made a few observations about the male species – particularly those who fall under the category of “worker outers.”

There are six types of men who frequent a fitness facility. Most men are going to fall into one of these six categories if they work out on a regular basis. This is a clearly comprehensive list based solely on scientific research. *eye roll*

The Grunters:

The Grunters are a particular group of fitness buffs who enjoy weight training for the ultimate benefit it brings to their overall health. While the Grunter may be pleased with his appearance as he curls his 50 pound dumbells, he is more than likely just happy to work out as a general way of life. Working out makes him feel healthy and confident.

The Grunter lifts heavy weights and emits low grunting sounds with each repetition, though he tries to keep himself under control. Minivan moms can appreciate his dedication and his willingness to not give in to the obnoxious.

The Groaners:

The Groaners are one step above the Grunters. They, too, love the physical benefits of working out, but they take more pride in their appearance. They watch their muscles contract intently with each curl and they make it a point to let everyone around them know they are are lifting seriously heavy weight.

The Groaner is known to drop his weights when he’s finished lifting for dramatic effect. The heavier the weight, the more the floor shakes, the more awesome he must be.

The Growlers:

The Growler dives across the line of annoying and lands squarely in the obnoxious. Growlers emit long, low sounds that sound an awful lot like child birth, thus leading minivan moms to cringe and make a hasty escape. A Growler typically sports a tatoo of a flame or something equally as radical on his calf or chest and he likes to stand up and applaud for himself when a particularly grueling work out is complete.

The Growler is often found flexing his muscles in the mirror at the end of a long work out.

The Musketeers:

The Musketeers travel in packs of two or three. They like to cheer each other on and shout things like, “C’Mon, Bro, you got this!” and “One more, Dude. Just one more. C’Mon, I know you got one more in ya!” Sometimes they even smack each other on the butt in celebration of a job well done. Musketters are particularly fun to listen to, as they have lively stories to share in between sets. I enjoy Musketeers.

The Hover-ers:

I do not enjoy the Hover-er. This is the bulgy men who stands over you as you use the chest press machine. When you stop to rest between sets, he takes a few steps closer and leans in. “You done with this machine?” he asks and when you shake your head no the Hover-er will step back and cross his arms, clearly annoyed with your lack of done-ness. You will have no choice but to relinquish your machine to him…despite the fact that you’re surrounded by five other machines that work the same muscle group.

Hover-ers are probably the same people who ride your tail on the highway if you’re not going a minimum of 15 miles over the speed limit.

The Guppies:

The Guppie comes to the gym in his work clothes, his tie slightly loosened. He walks in with cell pressed to ear and a fancy gym bag slung over his shoulder. The Guppie will come out a few minutes later in a nicely pressed, coordinated work out outfit. His shoes are brightly colored and his hair is neatly coiffed. He still has his phone and will shoot off clearly important texts in between sets. When using the free weights, The Guppie will frequently stare at himself in the mirror. He’s known to fix his hair throughout his work out.

So what do you think – Maybe it’s time I looked into Zumba, eh?

Image Credit

Filed Under: Exercise, funny stuff that happens, Random Tagged With: Joining a gym, Men who work out and grunt, Weight training

It’s Like Butah…

March 16, 2012 by Kelli

Alternately titled: Sam’s Club Fail

Have you ever taken three children to Sam’s Club? Let me give you a break down of what happens.

Inevitably you will forget your card and will have to visit the customer desk where you will have to wait in line with everyone else who forgot or lost their cards. By the time you get to the desk, your children (who have already been on two other errands before this one) will be restless and annoyed. They will push each other and argue.

The older gentleman in front of you wil tsk at their antics and shake his head. This will make you want to encourage them to fight more out of spite. You will refrain and will ask them to please settle down.

When you finally have your temporary card in hand you will grab a massive cart and head down the aisles. You won’t have a list because you weren’t organized enough to get out the door with one, but you have a few vague ideas of the things you need. You will subsequently forget those items and will instead buy everything you don’t really need and will end up having to run out to the store again later.

Your children will mope and complain about visiting this store until you meet your first grandmotherly lady handing out free samples. Suddenly, OMG THIS IS THE GREATEST STORE EVER!

Now your children are angels, but you can’t keep them by your side as they are zipping from vendor to vendor asking for samples. While in the refridgerator aisle, you see a large box of butter and you think to yourself, “I need butter. I’m always running out of butter. I should buy lots of butter at Sam’s.”

And then you feel like a total diva because you are never going to run out of butter again because you had the forethought to buy it in bulk at Sam’s. You pat yourself on the back.

You peruse the boxes of butter, trying to decide which would be the best purchase. The children are at the table at the end of the aisle sampling fiber bars. You briefly wonder if that’s a good idea. As you’re looking, trying to decide between Country Crock or Land ‘O Lakes, you hear a cry and realize your youngest has dropped his fiber bar and is terribly upset. You grab the Country Crock box and toss it in the cart because really, who can resist Country Crock spreadable butter, right?

You will finally finish up your shopping with a full cart and full tummys and will toot your own horn AGAIN when you get out of Sam’s without having to take out a second mortgage on your home.

You will drive home and unload the groceries and you will wonder why on Earth you bought so much in bulk because you have no space for it all.

Finally, after it’s all put away you will turn around and look at the box of butter on your counter – like really look at it closely. You will then gasp and tear open the box to discover your mistake.

The 5 you saw on the side of the box when you hurriedly threw it in your cart was actually 500. You thought you were buying 5 tubs of Country Crock, but actually you purchased 500 individual packets. You quickly realize that these tiny packages will not help you when you are trying to bake a cake and need a cup of butter. You wonder how many of them you’d have to open to get a cup.

You frantically search for your receipt so you can return the butter.

You can’t find it.

Anywhere.

It has disappeared.

You now have 500 individual packets of Country Crock in your refridgerator.

The End.

Filed Under: Domesticity, funny stuff that happens, Kids, Motherhood Tagged With: Buying in Bulk, I really should have made a list, Sam's Club

I’m the Cruelest Mom Ever but Look at the Awesome Pics I Took of this Caterpillar, Yo!

March 14, 2012 by Kelli

Sometimes coming up with clever titles is just too much, you know?

It’s spring break ’round these parts. Well – it’s spring break for the public schools. My kids, however, are being forced to do school this week because I relish in torturing them.

Muahahahahahahaha…

Seriously. you’d think I was standing over them with a bowl of cold gruel and a whip barking “What’s the sum of 5+7!” They are in the dungeon of learning, folks. You should feel sorry for them.

In a lame attempt to garner a few meager cool points, I’m offering a lot of breaks and we’re starting an hour later than usualy each morning. This gives them ample opporunity to enjoy the awesome that is Florida spring weather and hunt lizards and caterpillars to their little hearts content.

And speaking of caterpillars, check out these photos we got today of the creeper we affectionately (and completely unoriginally) named “Spikey.”

So, in celebration of my lack of awesome, please tell me – what did you do today that was awesome?

Filed Under: Homeschool, Kids, Motherhood, Photography Tagged With: Home School, Kids and Bugs, Mama is Cruel, Photography

The one where I confess a lack of mercy

March 12, 2012 by Kelli

I’ve taken a hundred personality tests in my life. If that’s an exaggeration, it’s only just barely one.

Okay FINE! I’ve only taken ten or twelve personality tests in my life, but it might as well be a hundred because they always say the same daggum thing.

The first time I really remember being subjected to the personality test was as a junior in high school. The test was administered and the results dissected and given to me in bullets.

– You like to take charge.

– You are skilled at leading and teaching.

– You like to be center of attention. (DUH!)

– You are a go getter. (Holla!)

– You lack grace. (Hmph.)

– You scored very low on mercy.

Awesome. So basically I’m a scary fame whore who will conquer the world at the expense of anyone in my path.

Wanna be my friend?

In college I took the test that determines your personality based on four different animals. There is the Lion, the Golden Retriever, the Otter and the Beaver. Guess which category I undeniably fit into. Go ahead…just take a stab at it.

LION! You were right. You guys are paying attention. A Lion personality possesses the following strengths and weaknesses:

Strengths– Visionary, practical, productive, strong-willed, independent, decisive, leader.

Weaknesses– Cold, domineering, unemotional self-sufficient, unforgiving, sarcastic, cruel.

I am a Lioness. Sleek. Shiney. Cold and Cruel? Can I buy a new personality somewhere?

Incidentally, I married a Golden Retreiver; calm, easy going, dependable, humorous, prone to fearfulness and worry and slightly indecisive. Everybody loves a Golden Retriever. And everyone loves my husband.

Apparently I just want to attack him.

So mercy is not high on my list of giftedness. My natural tendency is walk on by. Just ask my husband.

Wait…you know what. Forget that. Don’t ask him. No need to bring him into this, right? *nervous laughter*

I know that Mercy isn’t my first reaction and dangit if I don’t fight the battle. I am extremely empathetic and am prone to fits of blubbery tearfulness when presented someone else’s pain. I cry hard, I cry ugly and I feel deep.

But that’s more compassion and empathy. Mercy? Well, that’s a different story. Lion’s don’t operate under the umbrella of mercy. It’s not in our primal nature. And I am a Lion…ness. I work on my Lion-y tendencies every single day and I’ve made great strides. However…

Just read the following under that context.

Sloan has been laid up on the couch for the last couple of days with a fever and nasty chest cold. He shakes and quivers from the high temps and he has alternated between achy and nauseous. I want to feel sorry for him. I do. Because he’s my son and lioness or not, I’m still a Mama.

But I’m also a Lion.

Roar.

So today, despite the fact that his fever broke, he was still tired enough that he spent most of the day lying on my bed watching a movie. Actually watching Game 5 of the NLCS when the Cards beat the Phillies – because nothing makes an eight year old boy feel better quicker than baseball.

It’s scientific.

Sloan and I had a conversation that went something like this today.

Sloan: “Mom. Could you get me some water?”

Me: “Okay. Just wait a minute, okay?”

Sloan: “Mom, I’m super thirsty and my throat hurts. Can you get me water now?”

Me: “Just a minute, Babe. I will. Just give me a minute.”

Sloan: “Mom. I might be dying. If I don’t get water, I just might die right here.”

Me: “Sheesh. Drama much?” I get up and go to the kitchen to get him water. I come back and hand him the cup and he drinks, then looks up at me.

Sloan: “Mom. Can you get me some medicine?”

Me: *feeling his forehead* “You don’t have a fever anymore. I think you’re good.”

Sloan: “No, Mom. I’m so stuffed up I can’t breathe. Please get me some medicine.”

With a small sigh I go back to the kitchen, get the medicine and bring it to him. He hands me his empty cup.

Sloan: “Mom. Could you get me some more water?”

The Lion roars.

Me: “Not your slave, kiddo. You’re gonna have to get this drink on your own.”

Sloan: “But Mom, I’m soooooo tired. Please?”

I set the cup down and walk to another room. Just as I leave I hear Sloan mutter, “I thought Moms were supposed to always take care of their kids when they’re sick.”

Mercy.

A Golden Retriver would have had Mercy. A Golden Retriver would have gotten him more water and probably licked the side of his face and curled up next to him in bed.

I wouldn’t know. I’m a Lion. Apparently we just eat our young…

The rockin’ Lion photo was taken by my equally rockin’ sister-in-law, Becke‘, who is not a Lion herself. I would classify her as more of a Beaver/Otter combination. Am I right, Becke’?

So what about you? Do you know your personality type? Do you eat your young?

Filed Under: funny stuff that happens, Kids, Kids do the darndest things, Motherhood, Sickness, Sloan Tagged With: Gary Smalley Personality Test, I'm a Lion, Showing Mercy

Re-Post: How to Go from Reverent to Irreverent Without Even Really Trying

March 12, 2012 by Kelli

My daughter woke me up before 5:00 this morning. Rather than go back to sleep I decided to get up and do some writing. I will probably regret this decision around 2:00 today but for now I plan to get slightly lost in my characters. Here’s an old post for a bit of fun. This moment still makes me laugh. This was originally posted in November of 2010. Happy Monday!

If ever you ask my seven year old to pray before a meal, I suggest you make sure you’re not starving. Because Sloan? He brings it when he prays. All I need is a tent and a white hanky and Glory, Hallelujah we’ve got a revival.

Landon and Tia, try as they might, have a very difficult time making it through one of Sloan’s prayers without sneaking a bite or four. Sloan has been known to pray up to five minutes or more. He thanks God for everything from his toys to the military. He prays for poor people and for everyone he can think of by name. He prays for his own attitude and, on any given day, could likely be heard praying that his sister’s attitude would change too.

Last night’s dinnertime prayer went something like this:

Dear Lord. You are the Creator. You created. Everything. God. You are our Lord. Thanks for being our Lord. And for being our Savior. Thank you for, um, the veterens (which he pronounces vechrins). Thank you that they protect us and keep us safe. Thank you for Mr. Nevil that he fought to protect our country. We are very glad for them. Thank you for the Army vechrins and the Navy and…um…the Air Force. And all of the people that serve. It’s just awesome that they do that for us. Give them glory, Lord.

We thank you for Jonri (our Compassion child), God. He is poor. But he’s not poor anymore because we can help him to not be poor. And thank you that he will get Christmas presents. We pray for all the poor people, God. We pray that they will have food. And toys.

Lord you are very great. God. Thank you for our family (lists everyone from grandparents to aunts and uncles and cousins). Thank you for all my friends (lists as many as he can think of by name). And, God. I pray that I would have a good attitude. Thank you that I had a good day today and was nice and happy. And thank you that Tia was nice to me today and we could have a little fun.

*It’s at this point that Lee and I are trying not to crack up as Landon, with his head down and his eyes squinted open begins grabbing food and putting it in his mouth, then clasping his hands together again while he prays and chews. My grandmother would have told him he was going to choke for sneaking food during prayer.

We just thank you for everything you give us, Lord. And it is in your Holy, Powerful Name we pray…In Jesus Name.

Amen

It’s not hard to understand why Jesus commanded us to let the little children come to him. There is no holding back in the sincere prayers of a child. I am always blessed by Sloan’s prayers, no matter how lengthy they may be.

As soon as Sloan finished his prayer, we all echoed the Amen and picked up our forks to eat. But wait! Tia wanted to pray. So we bowed again. Her prayers are generally short, sweet and to the point.

Dear Wowrd. Fank you dat we have a gweat famiwy. And fank you dat you dive us dis food. And…well…amen.

Amen!

Ah the reverence. I was momentarily tempted to pat myself on the back for raising such wonderful, thoughtful children.

Then…

Tia looked down at the pile of beef stew on her plate and wrinkled her nose.

“Is dis poop?!”

And thus, the reverence of the moment was totally gone. Sloan cracked up and Landon looked with great disdain at his plate. It took several minutes to convince him that I did not, indeed, prepare poop for dinner.

We started off grand, though, didn’t we?

Filed Under: blast from the past, funny stuff that happens, Kids, Kids do the darndest things Tagged With: how to get kids to eat dinner, Kids and prayer, kids say the darndest things

Busch Gardens Fun

March 9, 2012 by Kelli

Alternately titled: Proof that I’m getting old because two days later I’m still worn out.

First order of business – I am over at (in)courage today talking about being uncomfortable. I’d love for you to read about the hope that God has placed in my heart despite the unsettled place I am in. Thank you for reading and for your support as I continue to work out the struggles of moving.

And on to my second order of business. Telling you random bits about my life…

We entered into our final ten weeks of curriculum this week and let me just tell you something – home schooling is exhausting. I’m wiped. Some days are jazzy fun. The kids get it. I’m happy.

Birds flit about the house chirping in perfect harmony.

But other days it appears that someone has tied a ten pound stone about all our necks, thrown us into the deep end of a pool and yelled, “Swim!” We stay afloat, but Lawdy we have to work hard.

The only things keeping me ~~sane~~ motivated are frequent scheduled breaks and Cuban Espresso. I like to call it caffienated sludge. It’s somethin’ potent, but it gets the job done. I feel great once my hands stop trembling. Come to think of it, the cartoon birds only flit about when I drink my sludge. Interesting…

Last week I laid out the kid’s lessons and gave them a great, big goal – finish it all by Friday and we will head to Busch Gardens. I wish I could adequately explain the zeal with which they attacked their Math books. Little tongues stuck out of their mouths in deep concentration as they worked through each lesson mothodically. Then they moved on to spelling and writing and Russian and reading and each time someone would start to complain I’d raise an eyebrow (which, incidentally, I never knew how to raise one eyebrow until I became a mom. It’s like I inherited that magic brow when my first born hit two) and they’d snap their mouths shut and put pencil to paper.

Call it motivation, bribery, reward –what.ev.er. We went to Busch Gardens.

I don’t have great pictures of the picture perfect reward day because who wants to carry a mammth camera around an amusement park?

Well, actually, I kind of do. I am going to bring my good camera next time because there are a lot of great photos to be taken there.

The photos I did get, though, were filled with three grinning, laughing, blond headed children who deserved a break. I am proud of my kids and the hard work they’ve put in this year. I’m not sure if we are going to home school again next year. We are still praying about it and looking at our options, seeking what’s best for them, for me and for our family. But for now, I am cherishing this sweet and challenging year I’ve had with my children. We have all grown and learned in different ways. I wouldn’t trade these months for anything.

This was his first big kid ride. I'm hoping he will be my child who likes roller coasters. No one else in my family will go on them with me.

Like my new tennis shoes? I was hoping they would provide a bit of motivation to work out. Turns out they aren't magical. They're just...shoes. Disappointing.