Precious moment. Uh, yeah.

Chase got in in his little head this morning that he was not going to be a little boy, but a mini-mule. For some reason, after talking about Gymboree for the past two days, when told we needed to get dressed, teeth brushed, hair combed this morning, he announced, "I not going." Um, beg pardon? Not sure what pistons misfired in that little brain that when given a direct order to do something, it became a choice by the time it went from ear to cerebellum. Yeah, kid, get that fanny upstairs and let's get 'er done. Hunter was looking forward to today, and announced to Chase, "Oh well. Guess we will just take you and you can cook in the car. We are not staying here because you are being a Demon Baby." Sometimes that kid just knows the right thing to say. This was not one of those times, though. Immediately, Chase sat on said fanny, "I said...I not going."

Riiiiight.

So, after wrangling him into clothes, giving the teeth a quick brusheroo (no mean feat, considering that he had those jaws clamped tighter than a tick) and pinned into his carseat, we were on our way. Such the carrying on... So, I said, "Mommy is going to turn up the radio and jam out to some 80's tunes, kiddos." I needed to get to a happy place. I bust on the XM, and what comes blaring out? "Sweet Child O' Mine". Isn't it ironic....dontcha think?

But, ilovemykidsilovemykidsilovemykidsilovemykids.............

By the way, donkey-boy was the last to leave Gymboree today.

Dear Hubs,

I just wanted to let you know the things you do that make me smile...



The romantic little things you do...rubbing my back, snuggling... Even though you won't rub my feet. Damnit. You and the things that creep you out...



The way you let me sleep until I just can't stay in bed one minute more on the mornings you are home. You keep those little ankle-biters from busting into the bedroom, and that, in turn keeps me from morphing into The Cave of Wonders...."WHO DISTURBS MY SLUMBER?!?!"





You have my coffee ready in the mornings, most days, already poured, creamed, and Splenda'd.



The way you want to sneak into the boys' rooms at night before we go to sleep, just to peek at them snoozing. Then, you come out and say the same thing every night..."I just love those little boys."



The adorable way you leave your flip-flops all over the house...right in my path, where I can trip over those gigantic things, stub my big toe on them, and call you that which would mean that your parents never married.... Ok, maybe not that one...

The fun surprises you plan, and manage to keep secret. I can't wait to see what we are doing for our anniversary. But, let me just say that if it is anything that involves a sporting event, or a restaurant that has kiddie menus you can color, I may be a tad on the pizzed side.

Your patience when I get a hair across my ass to do even more decorating around here. I know this was your domain before I took over, and you'd hardly recognize the place now. That is a good thing, though. I mean, really, WWMD? (That's, "What Would Martha Do?") and suffice it to say, that I am guessing that she would have given me the green light to take down your framed "Beers of the World" posters. This place needed an Estrogen injection. So, really, I guess you should be thanking me for that one.

Mostly, I love the way you love me. You put up with my moods, my off the wall sense of humor, my nonsense. And you love me anyway. You should either get a medal or medication. I'm not sure which.

Thanks for the last seven years. Wa-hooo, what a ride. Oh wait, that was for last night.



xoxo

"C" is for Cookie

I am a toucher...

...and I don't mean in a creepy, inappropriate "hey, want some candy?" kind of way. I love to hug the people I love...my friends, my family... And I am always touching a person on the arm when in conversation. It is likely a friendly jab or poke, or a sympathetic tap or rub. Now, I totally get that there are some people who are just not into that, and I can respect that. (At least, I try to.) My sister-in-law, who I love dearly, is just not a physical person. She will give you an air kiss on both cheeks, and that is just if you are family. (I guess friends just get a little nod in their direction.) Anyway, my gripe here is that for those of you not into the huggy-touchy-feely folks, please don't bother. Don't initiate a half-assed hug. I hate that! If you are going to give me a hug, make it count. I don't want that thing that looks like two junior high school kids slow dancing. You know, where you can fit two more people between us? And the butt sticking way out? Nah, just don't do it at all.

I am also a great hand-shaker. If you are going to put your paw out there, please don't hand me a limp washrag. Grab ahold, and pump. Come on, now! My handshake tells you I am really, honestly excited about meeting you. Or that I am really, honestly excited that you are leaving. But at least it is enthusiastic!

Next time you see me, friends, give me a big one. Hug, that is.

Rub a Dub Dub...three hineys in the tub...

My secret is out. My space has been invaded. The last little spot in this palace (read:townhousethatistoosmall) that I could slip away to has been invaded. This queen does not even get to sit on her throne alone. Nay, nay. I always have company. It usually goes something like this:

Me...slipping into the bathroom quietly...some alone time. Is it too much to ask to be able to pee in peace?

Apparently, because then...WHAM! The door bangs open. "Hi Mommy. Are you going pee-pee or making choco-nuggets?"

"OK, mommy is going pee-pee. Can you close the door please?"

"Sure." And then they do, but they stay inside, on the WRONG side of the door. I have locked it, and believe me, that is no better. Then I get banging and wailing on the door..."Mommmeeeeee! Mooooooooooom! What are you doing? Are you in there? Mooommmmeeeeeee...." Then the fingers appear under the door. It is less than a peaceful moment, so I don't even bother anymore.

But my secret little spot has now been taken over. The shower. The little ones did not like the splashing of the water in their faces, so they would steer clear of the shower. Blessed peace, and oh yeah, I actually got to shave my legs. Sometimes I would just hang out in there for a mommy time-out. Those were the days. Now, they have decided that the shower is "...so much FUN! It is like WARM RAIN! Yay!!" Now I share my small shower stall with two wiggly wet crazies. The minute they hear the water come on, it is a race for the bathroom, trying to pull off their shirts and shorts, getting tangled up in their clothes, usually with one arm sticking straight up out of the neck of their t-shirts..."Help! I'm stuck!"

The upside? Those little wet tushies are so darn cute.

I haz the sadz

Trying to get back to my old self may take a little time...but I wanted to post and honor one of the best people I have ever known- my grandmother, Mary McCrerey. We lost her very unexpectedly on September 6, 2008. I am proud to say that not only am I one of her 26 grandchildren, but...pssstt....don't tell the others...I was the favorite. ; )

I love you, Nany, and am so blessed to have had you in my life for thirty-nine years. I will miss you every day.

Mary E. McCrerey 88, passed away on September 6, 2008. She was born in Wayne Township, PA to Blaine and Ida (Stiner) Bolinger on February 4, 1920. She moved with her family to Homestead, Florida in 1952. Mary was well loved by all her customers during her twenty years at Breeding's Drug Store. Later, she and her husband owned and operated Wil-A-Mar Ceramics for several years. She is survived by her three children William, Evelyn , and Kathryn as well as stepdaughters Mary and Carol. She is also survived by three sisters, Elsie, Eva, and Inez and a brother, Elmer. She was preceded in death by her husband William B. McCrerey , a stepdaughter, Dorothy; three brothers, Raymond, Leroy and Lewis; a sister, Hazel; a great-grandson, Michael, and a great-granddaughter, Heather. She was loved and will be greatly missed by 26 grandchildren, 40 great-grandchildren, and 19 great-great grandchildren.

Are you ready for some FOOTBALL???!!!

Yeah. Me neither.

The hubs is nerdally into it, and belongs to two Dork Leagues....I mean Fantasy Football Leagues. Yes, one was just not enough, so he is in two. Well, one he belongs to, and the other, he runs. So, his time is being spent online, buying FF magazines, researching the best QBs/running backs/linemen, who is sucking from week to week, who he wants to trade, blah de blah de freaking blah. He talks about stats, injuries, and yards. I am guessing this is just as boring for me as it is for him when I talk to him about shopping, sales, and shoes. (Although how could it be? That stuff is dadgone scintillating!) I do feel myself going to a happy place when he starts babbling. A place with racks and racks of Jimmy Choos, where my foot is a petite size 6 1/2, and the salesmen are straight out of an Ambercrombie ad...helping me try on shoes while whispering sweet nothings in my ear, "And these...are 40% off" ....

..."Listen, Tray, are you paying attention? I think I am going to trade for another QB....hello, hello...?"

My contribution? "Hey, you should pick Tony Romo for your team. He's hot."

When is the Super Bowl already? Stick a fork in me...I am so done.

Fun, fun weekend!

I love Labor Day. Almost as much as Christmas. Mainly because I hate summer, and it is the sign that it is just about o-v-e-r. Yesssssss! We had a great weekend at Ryann's and then here at home. Crabs, shrimp, and mucho cerveza...or should I say "beepers". Chase, as many times as I tried to tell him today, insists the word is not "beer", it's "beeper".


A few pics from the frolic...

Chase took this one of mommy with her beeper...Note the upward angle from the short one, and the rockin' double-chin effect...

The aftermath...

Mommy and Daddy after several beepers...

All in all, a fun day, and Yeeeeeeeeeeee-hawwwwwww! Fall is just around the corner. Bring on the candy corn.

Oh, and note to husband...I DID see a hummingbird in the yard today, and it was not due to the Yingling goggles. You, on the other hand, are so lucky I love you and am not posting the pictures of you trying to climb the Japanese Maple to catch a cicada for Hunter.

But, I am not deleting it. So be on your best behavior, boy.