In Which I Get Crafty...

Somebody had a birthday today. 

Yes, there's a story for why he is wearing priest's robes in this picture but it's a story for another blog. 

Suffice it to say the people he works with are hilarious.

When he walked into work this morning this was on the television.

I got crafty for his birthday and made him this:

I totally stole the idea from Pintarest. 

Seriously, why aren't you hanging out on Pintarest yet?

The blog I stole it from can be found by clicking on this link. 

It's one of those blogs that lets you know how totally bush league your blog is. 

Or at least mine is. 

I think she is Australian or some such. 

At least I think I've seen her posting about how Spring is coming. 

Not to rabbit trail here but is that not the craziest thing in the world?

I mean how is that we are one plane ride away from the Winter?

Hemispheres are weird.

Okay, back to my craftiness.

So each picture is held on by a clothespin and there were 16 pictures in all.

It was super easy. 

I had to wrap the clothes pins in jute because I didn't have the kind that are spring loaded so the pictures wouldn't stay in well.

It was time consuming. 

Especially with this being all up in my business:

Eat your ice cream, lady.

It was fun choosing which pictures made the cut.

The obligatory smoochy face picture.

The 'flour all over our faces due to ornament making' picture.

Our first picture together since Kindergarten picture.

Good grief my nose is pug. 

I mean I kinda forget and then I see a picture of it and think:

"Hello, Pug."

The Disney picture.

Riding the people mover.

Oh, the People Mover...how I love you.

I love you even more than being crafty.

But, crafty is good also.

Everyone Remain Calm...

Alright...

Let's all just remain calm. 

I have no idea what happened to my blog. 

I mean...

 I tried to tinker with the layout just a bit and then this travesty happened.

It's all the picture on the rights fault. 

See...

"They" say that you have to have your picture somewhere on your blog. 

Who are 'they' you ask?

I don't know but 'they' write all kinds of articles about how to blog. 

Unfortunately the more I messed with it the worse it got. 

And now I'm missing pages and the font is all messed up. 

Hello, first world problems.

The bottom line is that I really wish I would have paid more attention in Computer class in high school.

I know so little about it that when people try to explain it I'm just at a loss.

"Blogger platform", "HTML", ""Encryption Code"

Whatever.

It's kinda like when I go to get my oil changed. 

I love how they show you the oil on the stick at the end for your approval. 

Like I know anything about what they are doing. 

"Oh sure, that's the oil stick all right..."

I mean I barely know how to braid the two year olds hair much less make an accurate assessment of the oil level in a car.

Hello, braids.

So...

I'm hoping that I can sit down and figure this business out tomorrow.

And maybe find my lost pages.

Or I might just sit around and practice braiding. 

I'm for it. 

The best sound in the world...

You know what the best dang sound in the world is?

Why, yes...

That's right!

It is the sound of basketball shoes squeaking on the gym floor.

Isn't that just the best sound?

You know when someone makes an abrupt pivot on the wooden floor and their shoes make that squeak? 

I love that sound.

Love it.

That sound even tastes good.

And yes, sounds can taste.

It tastes like Cherry Blow-Pops dipped in coke and Frito Pie and happiness.

Sigh.

I love high school basketball games.

I don't know why.

Here me and the oldest minion are at a game last year.

And then the serious face.

And the not so serious face.

Bleachers. 

I love them.

You know what other sound is the best in the world?

And your going to have to work with me on this one because you may have never noticed it before...

The sound Hershey's Kisses make when you press them into a hot peanut butter cookie.

Observe:

Hot Peanut Butter Cookies.

Then you take a Hershey Kiss and press it into the cookie.

It makes this fantastic steam puff escaping kind of sound.

Oh, just try it. 

It's a great sound.

Here is what isn't a great sound...

My alarm clock. 

I mean it's a pleasant sound but it results in this:

Piles of children laying around the house in odd locations.

You gotta watch this minion. 

He wanders off and falls back asleep after he has been woken up. 

And then he doesn't make any sound.

And then I have to make several loud sounds to find him and wake him. 

Maybe I should have him wear squeaky basketball shoes.

Then I could find him.

Or maybe I should just make cookies in the morning. 

The box...

The eight year old loves to go to the local comic book store in Huntsville. 

It's called The Deep.

I'm new to the whole comic book store scene. 

The store has been there for 15 years now though so they must be doing something right. People go there to buy comic books and to play these role playing games. Magic and the like.

I have no idea how they make money because comics are pretty dang cheap and isn't Magic free to play? It's a mystery.

But comic books and boys seem to go hand in hand so I figure I'd better get familiar with it. 

So...

Here's the deal:

Of course you can go to the store, pick out a comic book, and then buy it but where is the fun in that? The cool thing to do, according to the eight year old, is to get a 'box.' You fill out paperwork that tells the store what comics you want to buy and then as they come in they put them in your box. Then when you come in your box is waiting for you full of comics.

Here he is filling out his paperwork to get his comic.

Other paperwork he has filled out recently:

A paragraph with clues about who he is for us to pick out which desk was his on parents night. 

Note that he has let us know that:

1) His second favorite restaurant is Logans. 

Not sure why he chose to put his second favorite restaurant in the paragraph but there ya go. 

2) Also note that his second favorite book series is Harry Potter. 

We are half way through the first book. 

You know you kinda have to feel jealous of British kids. They get to hear their bedtime stories read to them in British accents. Harry Potter just has to be better in a British accent.  

Alas, the perils of growing up in Alabama. You have to have your bedtime stories read to you in a Southern accent. That was a perk for Tom Sawyer and Huck Finn.  Not so much of a perk for Peter Pan and Harry Potter.

Oh, well. He'll have to use his imagination. 

Comic books should help with that. 

In Attendance...

Friday afternoon I loaded up the car with some girls and headed...

Hmmm...Which way is Florence from Huntsville?

...west to a ladies retreat. 

At least, I think it was west. 

Let's just call it westish. 

I had a little trouble before I left:

It's never a good sign when the trip starts out with a big ole rip in the jeans.

I'd love to say it happened in some fun way but I just tore it on my car door as I was getting in. 

The retreat was great though!

Jani Ortlund spoke and she was amazing. 

But...

There were a few things on the retreat I needed to avoid.

Things like...

Babies.

Hello, babies.

Please stay away from me. 

I have baby fever and your little cheeks do nothing to help that fever go away.

As long as I avoided looking at the babies for prolonged periods of time it was fine.

But then they would make these little cries...

And they were such cute little cries!

Sigh.

We had forty women come which I think is a great turn out for a church of our size.

In attendance: 

Kristin and Ashley. 

Kristin has mad chocolate dipped pretzel making skills.

Ashley has mad worship leader skills.

Amy and Erin.

Amy has a baby named Keegan. 

I've blogged about him before 

Erin just took the Bar. 

Do not get her started on the Casey Anthony case.

Actually, do because it's really interesting.

Other attendees.

Hey, ladies.

Hey more ladies!

Hey even more ladies.

And then there was this:

Dang it, Kleenex!

Who invited you?

It's never a good sign when you walk in a room and see lots of Kleenex boxes sitting around.

I abhor crying. 

I mean, I don't mind at all when other people do it, I just don't want to. 

It's the stuffy nose that comes with it that I hate the most. 

Good thing I had old faithful with me:

Yep, that little yellow wad of greatness is none other than Silly Putty.

It's the world's greatest distraction.

Some other characters showed up that were not invited.

Like this guy:

It's a walking stick. 

Scientific Name: Walking Stickitus.

I tried to catch him but he was surprisingly fast.

Kinda like my hands were working that silly putty. 

You're no match for me Kleenex!

Electricity is Magic...

Well, I broke down and went to the doctor.

Hello, shot.

When you get a shot you kinda feel like you deserve a reward.

Hello, donut shop.

Oh, don't worry. 

I didn't stop.

But you definitely should because K-May donuts are good.

Plus, the people that run the shop barely speak English which makes the donuts taste better.

I don't know why.

I guess the reason I didn't stop is because Pinterest came to my rescue by giving me these words of motivation:

Speaking of dogs...

This is pretty much the only thing that would get me excited about having a dog:

Martha Stewart pet accessories.

And just one more thing tonight if you'll indulge me...

Here's a picture from the Huntsville Times this morning:

Our utilities spokesman is named Bill Yell.

He did an amazing job during the April tornadoes.

However...

*This is where my monkiness begins to strike*

...every time I see his name in the paper I immediately treat everything he says like it's in caps lock.

I mean, in my mind, this man screams everything he says. 

Because, you know, the whole 'Yell as a last name' thing.

So basically Bill Yell equals Mr Caps Lock to me.

Caps Lock:

That most abused of keys.

I actually googled him and he doesn't look like a loud guy.

But work with me here people:

"We're just looking at doing the things we need to do to make sure our customers get the proper service" was the actual quote he said in the paper.

However that phrase is translated by me as:

"WE'RE JUST LOOKING AT DOING THE THINGS WE NEED TO DO TO MAKE SURE OUR CUSTOMERS GET THE PROPER SERVICE! 

DANG IT! 

DON'T BOTHER ME! 

ELECTRICITY IS MAGIC!

MAGIC I TELL YOU!

YOU'D BE IN THE DARK AGES WITHOUT ME!"

Poor Bill Yell. 

Destined to go through life speaking in caps lock.

You know...

Electricity is kinda magic.

Kinda like K-May Donuts.

Secrets...

Why, no. 

You're right.

I didn't blog last night. 

I decided to watch Tangled and drink cough syrup...

...oh, don't judge it was just two tablespoons...

...and go to bed. 

Did I feel guilty?

Well, not really. 

That is until I logged on tonight and saw that only forty one people had looked at my blog all day. 

Then the modicum of guilt I felt turned to panic.

Dear Readers,

Don't you know my self esteem is directly tied to how many people:

A: Follow my blog

and

B: Check my blog every day.

Dang. 

Those two things were probably supposed to be secrets.

Sigh.

Since I'm in the mood to spill lets look at a few other secrets shall we?

Secret the first:

I'm secretly really glad he lost that hat.

Secret the second:

I secretly still use this picture anytime I need a 'current' picture of me.

Even though it was almost eleven years ago.

Er...and thirty...oh, all right...thirty five pounds prior.

I secretly used the money from the 'grocery' envelope to buy this shirt.

So...

Those are my secrets for the night.

You now have permission to be glad you don't have to blog about your own secrets.

And I'll try to avoid cough syrup, the movie Tangled, and honesty in the future.

Turning Eleven...

So, Billy and I turn eleven on Friday. 

I mean, our marriage turns eleven.

Here's a funny card I got him one year:

A guy confusedly...

Wow. Confusedly - I'm kinda surprised spell check didn't bust me on that one.

...looks around in the grocery store.

Clearly he is uncomfortable and out of his element.

When you open the card you see this:

You know you've been married for awhile when you start buying cards with these type references in them.

And while I'm being graphic...

Or while the card is being graphic...

Tonight I got asked how far along I was.

As in enciente, bun in the oven, ready to pop one out...

The problem with that is that I'm not pregnant. 

At all. 

People...

Let's just make a blanket statement that unless the baby is crowning we are not going to ask anyone if they are pregnant. 

Um kay?

Is that too much to ask?

I think not. 

Seriously. 

How many horror stories are we going to have to hear before you stop asking.

Alright, bygones.

Let's get back to turning eleven.

My hair was big that day. 

Awww....our invitations. 

I loved them.

Ignore the baby with her hair in her face.

Sheesh, someone get that baby a barrette.

We had a dessert Reception.

Yum. 

Let's not talk about desserts though.

That probably wouldn't help with the whole 'are you with child' thing.

So...happy eleventh to me, my husband and our three NOT four kids.

You gotta try it!

You know me and Ree, the Pioneer Woman, are super tight.***

Yeah, we're practically best friends.

That's probably why I'm such a great cook 'cuz were such good friends.

Yep...

I'm a great cook.

My husband once got in HUGE trouble once when he remarked at a party that he 'didn't know why we have a kitchen.' It's true. Embarrassingly true!

So, let's talk about pancakes.

Mainly, these kind of pancakes:

The kind that come out of a can. 

Wait!

Stay with me on this!

They were actually pretty good!

You spray them into the pan and you can make all kinds of funny shapes.

I chose circles.

I'm a circle choosing kinda girl.

This guy loved the spray pancakes.

He was a letter and swirls kinda guy.

That S was tough to flip.

I mean...

Don't knock it 'til you've tried it!

Pancakes out of a can aren't half bad.

Sigh.

I promise I'm going to learn to cook one of these days. 

My poor Mom...

She's an amazing cook. 

It's all very vexing. 

Here are the things she unfortunately didn't pass down to me: her long legs, her cooking skills, her dancing skills and her sense of direction.  

Basically if you see a stubby legged woman feeding her family peanut butter and jellies for dinner with a  'no dancing allowed' sign on her back that looks lost it's probably me.

--------------------------------------------------------

***Amanda from Kevin and Amanda does live in my town! Maybe some of her cooking skills will rub off on me.

Just one good picture...

All I want in life is one good picture.

Just one!

And maybe a pony.


But if I can't have the pony I still want the one good picture.

Of what you ask?

Why, the first day of school, of course.

Which, can we just all say, comes way to stinking early these days.

My minions started back August 10.

August 10th I tell you!

So...back to this elusive picture.

I mean, you would think that you would put the child in front of the steps and say 'smile' and they would.

But they don't.

They fidget.

And giggle.

And scratch.

And generally act like monkeys who've rolled in itch powder.

Feel my woes why don't you:

Hmmm...

This one's good but it's not close enough.

Next: 

Um...no.

Next:

Hellooo...look at the camera.

Next: 

Look at the camera - not laugh at the camera.

Take Five: 

You're still laughing.

Hmmm...

This one is as good as it gets:

Next minion:

First:

The need to dance is strong in this one.

Mini rabbit trail.:

A couple nights ago at dinner he kept standing up beside his seat and dancing. Finally, we told him to go to the bathroom if he was going to dance like that assuming he just needed to er, go to the bathroom. A few minutes later I sent the oldest in to check on him. Apparently he was rocking it out in the bathroom - dancing in front of the mirror. 

I don't know. I just don't know. The boy needs to dance.

Back to the pictures...

Next:

You look guilty. 

Anything you need to tell me?

Next:

Your face is scrunchy.

Just smile darn it!

Well...not that smiley.

And definitely not that smiley.

Sheesh, you've lost it.

Well...

This will have to do. 

Now...where's my pony?

"Oooh! Oooh! I want a pony!!!"

Don't even think about it little sister.