"What's that you are wearing?"

I am a mom. A mom with three small children no less, and well, there are just THOSE days. Today was one of them.

Chloe has RSV and a double ear infection right now, so much of my day was spent administering medicine and breathing treatments. The latter involves me holding her, a 9 month old, with a mask over her face as she breathes the steroids that are being pumped through. This process takes about 20 minutes, so it is no wonder that most of the damage done today, was ever 4 hours in 20 minute stretches. Boy are kids smart. Boy are boys messy. Whether you are on the phone, on the toilet, or attached to a nebulizer --- they know exactly when to strike!

Well, I did have to venture out to the grocery store for a few things so I packed everyone up and set out. The kids were actually quite good considering the mayhem they left behind the closed doors of our house!

I was walking down the make-up/fragrance aisle on the way to the checkout line when this lady came up to me. Here is the conversation that ensued:

Strange Lady: "Ma'am, if you don't mind my asking, what is that fragrance you are wearing?"

Me: "Are you talking to me?"

Strange Lady: "Yes, I just had to ask because you smell so wonderful!"

Me: "You are joking right?"

Strange Lady: "No, really, you smell great and I just have to know."

Me: Well, honestly --- I am not wearing any cologne or perfume. I don't think I have worn any in, well, at least 5 years (said while eyeing my almost 5 year old son!)"

Strange Lady: "You're kidding!?!"

Me: "No, and really I haven't even had a shower yet today (the baseball cap and no make-up verify my story) and if you get close enough, you would not believe what I REALLY smell like. Sorry to end your quest for the perfect scent, but the "no-shower, baby-puke-and-spoiled-milk, just-changed-a-poopy-diaper" fragrance has yet to be packaged quite as efficiently as I have done so today! But, I am going to PRETEND that I smell as wonderful as you think!"

Strange Lady: "Well, I guess I was just imagining things!"

Apparently she was! Well, who needs a shower when you have the wonderful scents that accompany motherhood!

Tag, I'm "it"!

I have been tagged by Devin over at Mom's Happy Handful for a random facts meme about myself. Honestly, I had to look up what the heck a 'meme' is (thanks Wikipedia!) because, sadly, I had no idea. (I'd rather come clean up front, than pretend!)

Okay, so, let's move on to a more thrilling subject ---me---!

1. I picked out my married last name 2 years before I had ever met my husband.

The Story: My friend Sarah and I were hanging out one day. Her and I were both aspiring artists at the time, both single and had nothing better to do than scour the phone book as we tried to come up with artist names that would be marketable and memorable. Afterall, I just simply couldn't see someone referring to one of my oil paintings as a "Potts." (As in, "Oh, that is a Picasso, or, that one there is a Potts." I mean it just didn't "do it" for me!) Anyway, so I only made it to the C's before I decided that my new last name would be Cole. About 2 weeks after Matthew and I started dating (almost 2 years after the name picking incident) he emailed me. I remember staring at the email in my inbox --- Matthew COLE --- and thinking no one would ever believe me if I told them this story. So, anyway, it's true, believe it or not!

2. The last time I wet the bed, I was 21!

The Story: I was in college and staying at a friend's house. She had a water bed (yes they still existed in 1992). When I woke up the morning in question, the bed was soaking wet. I proceeded to tell her that her water bed had a leak in it --- only to discover the more I searched for said leak that the sheets reeked of urine. And, it was only wet on my side of the bed --- Busted!

3. I used to want 8 kids --- now, I have come to my senses after only just THREE and realize that I am already grossly outnumbered! THREE kids it is!

4. I used to model for art figure drawing classes as my work study job!

The Story: In college I was an art major. As my work study job I took off my clothes! Don't worry, I was not naked in front of the entire student body. I went to Baylor University, which being a "conservative" Baptist school didn't allow the art models to be nude (and the door was locked so no pervs could wander by). So, instead I wore a bikini. I can look back now and laugh because I probably haven't been in a bikini since then, but that's a whole other blog post! I did make the front page of the Waco-Tribune Herald in my bikini-clad self. They were doing a story on the art department and I happened to be modeling that day. So, some day when my grand kids crawl up in my lap, I can whip out my headline worthy photograph and show them that at one time their grandma was HOT and was paid $4.25 an hour for being so! (okay, maybe not "hot", but sans stretch marks anyway!)

5. I was hit by a car as I walked across a road (a state highway!) when I was 7 years old.

The story: We lived in a small town in Montana (and I mean small). Our family was returning from having watched a movie about Jesus at the local school gymnasium. (no movie theater in that town --- but they did have several saloons!) Several people were crossing the highway in front of me ( a two lane highway). I swear I didn't see any traffic coming (it was dark and I didn't see any headlights), but the next thing I knew I was in my daddy's arms and he was crying. I came to and told him most definitely that I was "fine" and to put me down. Instead of taking me to a doctor (because there wasn't one), we went to the local veterinarian! Other than some major bruises and a huge goose egg on my head where I landed after flying through the air, I was fine. I was especially mad because I missed the pizza party we were on our way to. Life, death, and pizza. At least I had my priorities straight back then!

I knew from a very early age that God was watching out for me that night and have always known He had a special plan for me. I just didn't know that special plan included so much cleaning!

6. I am a tortilla "snob".

The scoop: Some people have to have brand name clothes or purses, I on the other hand, have to have non-mass produced tortillas. That is what living in Texas will do to you (you have not had "real" Mexican food unless you have eaten at a "hole-in-the-wall" that has menudo on the menu!) Seriously, have you tasted a tortilla, hot off the grill?!? Holey Moley --- nothing like it. Thanks to my mom who got me addicted to eating tortillas with butter on them with a little swig of Pepsi to go along, my fascination with good tortillas is going strong. Currently my favorite tortillas are at the Kroger grocery store near my house where they are hand made every day. Who needs Coach or other fancy designer labels when you have FRESH TORTILLAS?

Okay, well I think that is enough randomness for one day. Trust me I could write a book, but I will spare you anymore details.

Now, it is my turn to tag some blogging friends. I don't have many, so I will tag "the few, the proud":
1. Tracy over at Just the Sous Chef
2. Erin over at M&M's Mommy
3. Kesleigh over at Finding the Castles in all of the Chaos
4. Susan over at The Life of Lewister

All right ladies, it's your turn. Tag, your it! Here are the rules I was given:

1. Link to the person who tagged you.
2. Post these rules on the blog.
3. Write six random things about yourself.
4. Tag six people at the end of your post. (if you have six people to tag!)
5. Let each person know they have been tagged.
6. Let the tagger know when your entry is up.

More Than Just a Starbucks Order

I am standing in line at Starbucks last week waiting for my turn to order and I am listening to everyone in front of me --- venti, double, split-shot, mocha, breve latte--- tall, vanilla latte, extra hot, no foam, --- grande, skinny, soy, double, not water, no foam.

So, I think to myself, "Wow, I really need to get a fancy starbucks order, too!" And then it's my turn.

"Venti latte, please."

Sorry, just couldn't think of anything to change, manipulate or improve about a regular plain old latte. Does that make me boring? Unsophiscticated?

Absolutely not. The truth is I couldn't think of a way to say:

I want a gigantic tasty coffee drink that:

1. has NEGATIVE calories

2. will help me keep up with my kids as they bounce off the walls (even though it is nap time and they SHOULD BE tired!) but will not cause me to have caffeine withdrawal if I am not able to indulge again tomorrow, and the next day, and the next day after that.

3. that will make me feel like a pampered mom of three preschoolers even though they are tugging on my pant legs and following me around non-stop as we speak.

4. that won't leave me with nasty "dragon" breath (Cade's words, not mine) because that would be telltale evidence that I was TRYING to have a "calgon take me away moment" and for some reason as mom we are almost ashamed of needing a little down time.


So, IF Starbucks had those options, here is my SOPHISTICATED new order:

"I'll take a venti, negative cal, speed and valium infused, latte, with a mint burst on return and a bubble bath on the side."

For now, I'll settle for my plain, old venti latte, and if that makes me boring and unsophisticated --- so be it!

Introducing Baby "Howie"

Chloe just turned 7 months old yesterday. Wow, how the time with my baby girl is flying by! Right now, she is currently cutting her first tooth (which is only being held back by the tiniest piece of gum which simply refuses to budge!) and fighting a nasty ear/eye/throat infection which has totally ignored the first 2-week round of antibiotics she was on. All that to say, my sweet, sweet baby girl has been a little needy and clingy lately. But, as you can see in this picture, she can still pull it together for a fabulous photo shoot!

A few days ago, when Chloe was playing on the floor, she was looking around for me and starting to whine a bit. She started out saying ma-ma-ma over and over and then it eventually turned into a cry with a few ma-ma's interjected here and there.

Well, Camden absolutely adores her. He decided she needed some attention, so he went over and plopped down beside her. He put his arm around her and started swaying back and forth saying, "Ho-wee, it's okay Ho-wee --- Hush, Ho-wee, Hush." Then he would glance at me in between sing-song sessions as if to say, "I got this mom, you can leave the room now." It was so cute. In fact by the time he was done mothering his little sister, her name had some how turned from Ho-wee (rhymes with Chloe) into Howie (how--ee). Let's just hope when she is older and trying to impress the boys that Cammy isn't still introducing her as his baby sister, Howie!

Chloe's Mom for President?

It is not very often that you will catch me in a political conversation. In fact, I can't stand politics. I am very decidedly INDEPENDENT and am not thrilled with either of the two major candidates. I mean, cut them in half, surgically remove all the crap, sew a half from each party together and then maybe, just maybe we can talk.

At first, I had decided just not to vote. I seriously am not a huge McCain backer and although the thought of going to "the dark side" (No racial pun is intended here, but rather a reference to my Republican political heritage and what voting Democrat would actually mean as far as the "eternal damnation of my soul" is concerned) has crossed my mind on SEVERAL occassions, I am just not that comfortable with "Baracking My Vote" as it has been so cleverly put.

Not that I want to BE the President, but I am certainly about as qualified as most. Maybe I should throw my hat in the ring? Here is a top 10 list of reasons why I should be elected president:

10. I SUCK at writing and STICKING TO a budget.

9. l'd rather overspend and HIDE it, than overspend and be accountable for it. (I mean if you ignore it, it will just go away, right?)

8. I started lying at a young age (5 to be exact). (A blog post for another time!)

7. I am good at telling everyone what they WANT to hear, rather than what they NEED to hear (just ask my kids --- candy for dinner it is!)

6. I have a few skeletons in my closet too (no sordid affairs, but my past is a little checkered).

5. I am much better at seeking my own interest than I am at putting others above myself.

4. I don't like to admit when I am wrong --- afterall, I am HARDLY EVER wrong.

3. I need a bigger house.

2. I like designer gowns, fancy parties, cocktails and the like.

and the number one reason I should be elected as president is...

1. My kids would give the Whitehouse staff a run for their money. I mean, who wouldn't want tickets to that show? (Let's see them clean up shampoo and sugar as efficiently as I now can!)

Seriously though --- who came up with these candidates? I know it is about being "electable" and "qualified," etc... Heck at this point I'd settle for someone who doesn't make up words when addressing the public, has lived on a budget and done so successfully, dared just once to buy shoes at Payless or Wal-Mart for a black tie affair (I mean sometimes less is more!), and wants less of the pomp and circumstance and more of the nitty gritty. One can only dream.

Until then, I'm writing my own name down. After all, I am the lesser of three evils.

VOTE CHLOE'S MOM in '08

I can run this country ragged, just like those who have gone before.

This political ad has been paid for by friends of Chloe and her mom.

Summertime Smiles

As summer winds down, it has been nice to be outside with the kiddos a little more often since we had our first hint of a fall breeze the other day. I took these pics while we were sitting and playing on the front lawn. Cade was helping make baby Chloe laugh. Notice the hair bow --- her hair is finally beginning to come in a little bit thicker. Watch out girly bow world --- here we come!

Free Shampoo Anyone?

10 Bottles of shampoo on the floor, 10 bottles of shampoo. Take one down, pass it around, 10 bottles of shampoo on the floor.

See the thing about that song is that today, it is funny. A month ago it was SO not. August was a hard month for me. Yes, motherhood reared her ugly head (yet again) and well let’s just say that at various times I threatened to let the UPS man come by and pick up the kids and ship them off to Timbuktu. I’m only sort of joking.

Back to the song --- It was a beautiful August morning that started with such promise. I had cleaned the entire house the day before since I was expecting company that night (my parents and aunt and uncle were coming into town to catch the Yankees game! Matt and I were going on our first outing WITHOUT kids since Chloe was born!)

I had also been up late the night before. I am self-employed as a graphic designer and when a deadline calls, a deadline calls. (I think I managed to flop into bed around 4 a.m. after topping off Chloe’s “milk tank” in hopes that she might sleep in!) Matthew had already left for work, the boys (or so I thought!) were firmly planted in our bed sleeping away, so I decided to revel in the extra sleep. I must have fallen back to sleep and been dead to the world because when I awoke, all I hear is this click-click noise. Everything else in the house is perfectly still. Chloe is asleep, Cade is asleep --- uh oh --- Camden has left his post.

I laid there for just a bit realizing that the click-click noise was coming from the master bathroom which adjoins our room, so I knew Cammy was safe. I was so perplexed by the sound I heard because I just couldn’t place it. I decided to quietly walk to the mostly closed bathroom door to peek in and see what that noise was.

Sitting on the cold ceramic tile was my innocently naked middle child FINGER PAINTING with shampoo and conditioner. That clicking sound was him opening and closing the various bottles as he EMPTIED THEM ONTO THE FLOOR. He looked up and with this delightful smile said, “Hi, Momma. I painting!”

I wanted to hurt someone. Anyone.

I sat there for a minute contemplating exactly how in the world do I clean up this amount of shampoo and conditioner --- all the while imagining in my mind soap suds spilling out of every window of our house. I decided the best course of action would be to put a video on for the boys in an attempt to CONTAIN the mayhem while I cleaned up. Movie in. Kids secured. Baby still sleeping (thank the Lord God above).

I gathered every dry towel in the house and began to clean up. Fifteen minutes later and just as I was wiping up the final slippery, soapy residue Cade peeks around the door and just as sweetly as ever says, “Hi mom.” What he should have done is handed me a loaded gun and said, “Here mom, you’ll need this next.” (Again I am joking --- lighten up people.)

So, Cade proceeds to explain to me that Cammy made ANOTHER mess. Because shampoo EVERYWHERE wasn't enough? No, my sanity was being tested and apparently those tests were coming in rapid fire succession. I JUST WOKE UP PEOPLE, this is SO not fair.

Cade: “Cammy got the sugar out.”
Me: WHAT? THE SUGAR? HUH?!?! Are you speaking English? Did you say, SUGAR?

I was so proud of my triumph over the shampoo and conditioner swamp, but before I could revel in that victory, yet another MESS awaited me. In my head a voice said, “Clean up on aisle 5” as if to MOCK me. How dare "they" mock me.

I walked down stairs and was greeted by an entire canister of sugar DUMPED out all over my office/study. The hard wood floors were no longer a lovely, dark mahogany. Instead, little two-year-old size sugary footprints wound around the whole first floor of the house.

My BARE FEET and I walked calmly to the vaccuum and began yet another clean up session. Now where's that number for the UPS man?



(Oh, and because I know some of you may wonder, Why is this crazy person stockpiling shampoo in her master bathroom? It's not because I am awaiting the apocalypse or anything quite that dramatic. I used to coupon a lot and would get Suave shampoo for like 25 cents a bottle, sometimes I would get it completely free --- and who turns down FREE shampoo?)

Mommy Lesson, No. 1

This is the first post of a new ongoing series of "Mommy Lessons." These lessons are things that I have learned about the heart of God while mothering my kids.

You all know that Cammy is now, as Cade calls it, "On the potty train." Well, due to a couple of immunizations Camden received yesterday, he is having some tummy troubles. So you can only imagine how the last 24 hours of the "D-word" have affected being "on the potty train."

After going to the gym with Daddy tonight, Cammy told me he had "ouchy bottom" and wanted his diaper taken off. He does the best at not having accidents when I just let him be naked from the waist down because there aren't buttons and zippers to contend with --- pretty daring when you are dealing with the "D-word!" I am glad to report that he made it to the toilet just fine to poo-poo the rest of the night, which is a huge feat when you are only two and have the "D-word!"

So back to my mommy lesson --- After the last round of the "D-word," Cammy sought me out and wanted to snuggle. He was still naked and in spite of a recent bath still had that distinctive poo-poo smell about him. I let him crawl up in my lap and with his full body, he just bear-hugged me and laid there for a full contact snuggle. It was awesome. I am a snuggler, so I just simply could not turn him away --- stink or no stink!

As he was laying there and I was rubbing his back this image came to my mind of me crawling into God's lap and just laying there --- fully spent, just soaking up my Father's love --- not realizing that to Him, I probably stink. But like my Heavenly Father I could not turn my child away --- even though Camden was stinky, I snuggled, caressed and enjoyed my baby boy.

How many times have I come to God stinky and dirty from another mess I have gotten myself into and He doesn't turn me away. He scoops me up, loves on me, cleans me up--- all the while loving me with His perfect, unconditional love. I simply cannot fathom such love and I say that while knowing just HOW MUCH I love my own.

Do you truly know how much God loves you? I didn't really KNOW the depth of love that one could experience until I had kids. Yes, I love my husband, my parents, my sisters, but my love for my kids is somehow different and somehow, well, more. So, again I ask you, do you truly KNOW how much God loves you?

More than an earthly mom could possibly love her stinky little boy --- this is quite possibly the best news I've had all day!

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The picture at the top was taken Christmas 2007 --- I LOVE this picture of Cammy --- Pure Unadulterated Joy. Not many people get to see this side of him since he is quite shy out in public.

Two Cute

Can you even look at this picture and NOT smile? Yeah, me neither. Chloe is the epitome of joy embodied in a ball of pink flesh. Sometimes I get carried away and squeeze her too hard!

This week Cammy started calling Chloe by her name (as opposed to just calling her "baby" or his version of "baby sister" which when Cammy says it sounds like "baby chi-cher".) In typical toddler fashion, he says a "w" sound for the "l" --- so it comes out sounding like, "Cwo-wee." And he even has the sing-song part of it down too. If he hears her crying or fussing, he will walk up to her and in his sing-songy-must-mimic-my-mommy-way he'll say, "Cwo-o-wee-e-e-e, it's oka-a-y" as he smacks her on the back. He still doesn't get the difference between patting and smacking even though I have shown him numerous times. Someday he will, just not now.

A Martha Stewart Moment

Recently the boys and I made a homemade peach pie for Daddy (I needed a good excuse to indulge in a pie!) It started out well, but was far from the Martha Stewart experience that I was originally hoping to give the boys. There weren't any cotton starched aprons or pre-measured cups with the appropriate ingredients all ready to be poured, sifted, stirred, folded and assembled. But all in all, it was fun (mostly), only a little stressful for me, and not nearly as messy as I had anticipated. Thankfully, Chloe slept through the whole thing!

The boys started out taking turns helping me dump ingredients into the bowl. I tried my hardest to be patient, knowing full well it would have been quicker if I just did it myself. Cammy asserted himself several times, declaring, "It's my turn-n-n-n-n!" And of course Cade had to make sure that I understood how he was the better choice for stirring the peaches, since after all, "I'm bigger, Mom. Cammy's just little." They each jockeyed for position, as if my picking them was a sign that I preferred one over the other.

After the pie was baking, we indulged in the "scraps." Cade licked the bowl (well not technically, but he did use his fingers to scoop out the leftover peach goo that didn't make it into the pie!) and Cammy and I ate the leftover dough. I love raw pie dough --- call me crazy --- I mean who doesn't love a good raw pastry crust?

What did I learn from today? Martha Stewart may have the corner on the market in regards to maintaining an appearance of "perfection" in all things homemaking, but, honestly, I don't think my boys will remember me for my perfect perfomances as much as they will remember how much fabulous fun we had along the way!

I am Now Qualified for a Job at the U.N.

Motherhood has equipped me for many things. Before I had kids I never realized to what extent peacekeeping and negotiating would be part of the job description. Well, I have executed peace treaties, negotiated trades, prevented hostile takeovers, and de-escalated gun battles. I have drawn boundaries, set limits, created high expectations and reinforced good values. Now that's a resumé! Anyone hiring?

"Houston, We Have Poo-Poo"

Well, I promise I won't post pictures of the evidence, but you must at least indulge a mother's ravings about her son's potty training success! There is nothing that can make a mom question her very own abilities as a mom faster than potty training disasters can --- and likewise potty training success can bring joy immeasurable!

Since before baby Chloe was born Camden has showed signs of being ready to potty train, but my oh-so-pregnant-self just couldn't muster the gumption to start down that path. So FINALLY this week (a mere 6 months later) I started working with Cammy and on day 2 we have poo-poo!

Also, today Cammy went potty all by himself, with out me having to remind him --- AND he even managed to do it standing up. The funniest part is that he is BARELY tall enough for the appropriate "part" to be able to reach to "tinkle" into the toilet --- so there was lots of grunting and maneuvering while my cute little two-year-old stood on his tippy tippy tippy toes all in the name of "peeing like daddy does." Then he exclaimed with shear joy, "I P-E-E-E-E-E-D!" and gave himself a round of applause.

Yes, the boy is tickled pink with himself --- and mommy is too! Two down, one to go --- Chloe, any chance you'll be ready to potty train anytime soon? Mommy's on a roll!

Hump Day Humor --- Funny Cade Stories

Story One:
Recently we visited Papa & 'Lene. While we were eating, Cade burped really loudly. Being the ever vigilant mother, I informed him that his behavior was inappropriate and that if he needed to burp, he should do so with his mouth closed.

Then I asked him, "Cade, who taught you that --- where did you ever learn how to do that?" Thinking that he would probably blame daddy, I sat back to wait for his answer.

He looked up and confidently replied, "From Grandma!"

(I knew 'Lene was behind the scenes secretly teaching my son bad manners, I just knew it!)

Story Two:
Yesterday as the kids and I were leaving the gym, I noticed that Cade was looking particularly cute for some reason. I asked him how he got so handsome and he replied, "I'm handsome like God!" Then he thought for a minute and said, "No, I'm smart like God --- and handsome like Daddy!"

Story Three:
Last week, while I was outside working in the yard, I asked Cade to go inside and get my glass of tea that I had forgotten inside. Being the distracted 4-year-old that he is, he went inside and never came back. I went inside to check on him and he was sitting in front of the TV watching cartoons. I inquired as to the whereabouts of my tea and this is the conversation that ensued:

Me: "Cade, where's my tea? I thought you were going to get it for me?"
Cade: "Mommy, I can't."
Me: "What? You can't? But it's right here on the table where I told you."
Cade: "I know, I just can't."
Me: "Why?!? You're tall enough to reach it, it's right here!"
Cade: "I know, but my legs are broken!"

Apparently I must ask him if his legs are broken quite often because that is now a common excuse for why he can't do something!

Story Four:
A few weeks ago Cade rediscovered his batman halloween costume that had found its way to the bottom of the toy box. He put on the mask and his batman p.j.s that Grandma C. gave him for Christmas and was having a fun time pretending. I decided to pretend with him and said, "Hey Batman, have you seen Cade? I can't find him." He stopped suddenly, lifted his mask and whispered, "Hey mom, it's me, Cade!" Then he lowered his mask and went on his super hero way.

Girl Power

In honor of cousin Ryah staying with us this weekend, we (the girls in the house) had a little girl time! I waited quite awhile for Chloe to join me so we could partake in all things glitter --- I can't wait until she gets older! Watch out Cade, Camden and Daddy, Mommy and Chloe are a hot pink force to be reckoned with!

Chloe's first mini-pedicure!

And a picture of Ryah and Chloe after Ryah's hair styling session.

I'm getting lots of practice on my niece's hair --- watch out Chloe, Mommy is armed (with hair spray) and dangerous!

And one last picture of Chloe that pretty much tops my list of favorite pictures of her. She is such a happy baby, this picture captures it perfectly!

Cade and Camden begged to join in all of the girly fun. Their little 4 and 2-year-old minds just didn't comprehend why hot pink finger nails would not make daddy very happy! (I personally don't think it would hurt --- the artist in me just doesn't understand why we can't have a little FUN?!?) Don't tell Daddy that Cade got to wear a hair clip for a few minutes! He was in Heaven --- he said, "I look very handsome!" (remember Cade, don't tell Daddy!)

Do your childhood memories involve Potato Bugs? ----Mine Do.

Disturbing, I know.

Today I mowed the lawn. We may possibly be the only people in the Dallas area that do our own yard work. Yes, the sad commentary on life in the "big city" is that more often than not people hire out almost everything --- yard work, house cleaning, childcare, etc...

Well, anyway, back to the disturbing reality of the potato bugs that are firmly planted in my psyche ---

As I was mowing the lawn, the smell of freshly cut grass took me back to Billings, Montana, where most of my formative years were spent. It was there that I became an indentured servant a willing participant in the Potts' family household "chores." I put quotes around the word chores because chores in today's vernacular are NOTHING like what I did as a child --- oh, nay --- my sisters and I earned our keep! (walked to school, uphill both ways, over broken glass, sound familiar?)

Now my Dad has always been a gardener --- in fact, a very prolific gardener. We logged countless hours weeding each summer (did I mention that I was a child slave?) but it was the ever dreaded task of Potato Bug Picking that tops our collective "Things We Could Have Done Without During Childhood" lists. Let me explain.

First you have to appreciate the disgusting nature of these bugs. (Click on the highlighted word for a pic and explanation of them.) Not only were we instructed to remove the adult beetles from the potato plant, but also the baby ones, and the bright orange egg clusters (which look a bit like potato bug caviar) that were laid on the underside of many a potato plant leaf. Seriously, what pre-teen in today's world would oblige this request?

Now, don't tell PETA, I would hate to be branded as an animal abuser --- but once the offending potato bug was spotted, we were instructed to place him or her in an old coffee can containing an inch or two of gasoline. A painful way to go I am almost sure of it. Justice swiftly carried out as punishment for the heinous crime of eating my father's potato plants. Judge. Jury. Executioner.

So, why the story about potato bugs? Because as I raise my kids, I can only hope to give them as colorful a journey as my parents gave me. Will their journey involve picking potato bugs --- probably not. But it will involve some good old fashioned hard work! Were my parents perfect, no. Am I? Hardly! But, they loved me, sacrificed for me, and yes, made me pick potato bugs. Today, I am a better person for it. Mowing my lawn is therapeutic --- thanks in part to parents who taught me to work hard and to be proud of a job well done.

Happy Father's Day and Happy Birthday, Dad (yes a little late, but I wasn't finished with this post on time, and well, it just had to be perfect!) Your work ethic and integrity will never cease to amaze me. You are a dying breed!

And to my Mom, Happy Mother's Day! (I wasn't posting back in May, so I will piggy back this note onto my Father's Day post.) I had no idea how hard you worked all those years when the three of us girls lived at home. Thank you for the countless hours you logged working behind the scenes. No wonder the chore lists were so long! As a mom I am finally comprehending the unending work load that exists. I can't wait until I can put my kids to work too!

UPDATE---

After a few years of picking potato bugs, the Potts girls staged a mutiny and collectively won their freedom from this particular chore. Larry Potts was left to tend the potato plants himself. The sisters, to this day, shudder at the sight of old coffee cans --- and the smell of gasoline.

PETA declined to press charges citing that the statute of limitations for animal cruelty in the state of Montana had invariably run out. They also noted that the sisters had already served a hard sentence ---"The potato bug picking is punishment in and of itself" --- but that Mr. Potts would be closely monitored to ensure that his grandchildren were not involved in any future potato plant maintenance.

Hump Day Humor

Some of you have emailed me and had such nice things to say about this little upstart. Truth is I have always had a frustrated author in me that could never figure out where to begin. Blogging has been perfect because it gives me a way to compile my stories, get feedback from the public and maybe (just maybe) I can go to a publisher armed with some ammunition (someday!) So thank you for the encouragement, keep the comments coming!

So, on to "Hump Day Humor". Well I don't know about you, but I personally need a little laughter each day to get me through the "mess", so here is my contribution to your laughter meter for today --- (This is a joke that I personally wrote my very own self --- I think it is hysterical --- if you don't, that is okay. Wrong, but okay.)

What did the paper clips, stapler, pencils, and note pads say when the secretary opened up the cabinet door?

SUPPLIES!

And by the way, I don't mind if you spread this joke or tell your friends, just please give credit to its author! I am a stickler for copyright infringement---being an artist and a writer will do that to you! If I see it on the next episode of "The Last Comic Standing," I will hunt you down for my royalties! (Yes, I think this joke is that funny and have held it close to me for about 7 years now --- If it ever gets its 15 minutes of fame, it better have my name attached to it!)

Coincidentally, the baby in the pic is Cade. The older Chloe gets, the more she looks like her oldest brother!

Mommy, I'm So Sleepy!

While I was preparing lunch for the kids, I put Chloe on the couch (propped her up) so she could watch her brothers play, etc... I looked over and this is what I saw...

Just so you know, after I took the video I did go put her in her crib... poor baby was SO sleepy!

"Mom, I'm 'Peach', Right?"

Lately, I have been working with Cade on things like his colors, expanding his vocabulary, counting, his letters, etc... For some reason this year a little fear gripped my heart that he would somehow grow up completely uneducated if I didn't start taking drastic measures --- right now. (as moms we tend to blow things a little out of proportion don't we?)

So, yesterday while I was cleaning the kitchen the boys wanted to "help". Well, you and I both know that their version of "helping" isn't really "help," but at least it was something to keep them occupied while I was getting the dishes done --- namely keeping Cammy from destroying another room simultaneously! We were working with colors and going around the kitchen finding things that were green, then yellow, etc... When we got to the color orange, Cade couldn't find anything orange, so he pointed to himself and asked if he was orange. I said that he was more of a "peachy" color --- remembering that I used the "Peach" crayon to color skin tones when I was but a budding artist. He pondered this revelation for a moment and I could see him almost mentally tucking it away somewhere to be mulled over for awhile.

Later we were outside, I was mowing the lawn and the kids were "helping." A neighbor boy was outside throwing the football with his friends. Cade watched as they were playing. I stopped mowing to empty the grass clippings and he came over with a quizzical look on his face. I asked him what was "the matter" and he said,

"Mom, that kid is 'brown', my C.J. cousin is 'brown', but I'm not 'brown'. What color am I, mom?"

Well, I didn't want to get into the whole racial discussion or intellectualize the conversation since my 4-year-old was making a simple 4-year-old observation, so I said, "Well, Cade, you are 'white'."

He immediately looked at me, rolled his eyes and said, "No-oooh --- I'm not 'white'! I'm 'peach' --- right momma?" And ran off to play.

So next time I am filling out one of those surveys that asks my "color", I'm going to check "other" and write in "Peach" --- and smile.

Here's a pic from last summer of the boys playing with C.J.



Cade absolutely LOVES his cousins ---He talks about them on a daily basis. Later on in the day Cade assigned colors to both Tate and Ryah as well. Tate is "peach" like Cade, and Ryah is "pink".

Weekly Photoshoot

As you can see it is nearly impossible to get all three looking at the camera at the same time. Cade is definitely my "poser". Cammy was busy trying to figure out why the baby was crying (maybe because he was "manhandling her?") Chloe was just not sure about being in her brothers' care --- I don't blame her. Anyway, I love these pics though, because kids this age just aren't "perfect", so these are definitely characteristic of my kids --- one's usually happy, one's usually in la-la-land, and the other is often crying... if you have the secret to getting kids happy all at the same time, just let me know. I could use the key to unlocking that one!

Tia Is Another Word For. . .

As I’m sure most of you know, “Tia” is Spanish for “Aunt”---plus a whole lot more. . .

Tia’s just another word for “When you kiss me, slobber on me, and give me The Great Sickness of 2008, and then I return, still sick, motherless to Houston, because now she’s your Gramma ‘Lene and everything you feature is so much smaller and hypothetically cuter than I—well, I can’t hate you and call you a Germ Hive. Okay—so maybe I’ll say “germ hive” under my breath—but I for sure can’t hate you."

And why can’t I hate you?
Because I’m your Tia, and that’s another word for “Yes, I’ll share my candy with you. No, not the pink ones (those are mine--really--I mean it!) but you can have some of the others. In fact, you can have the whole rest of that bag if there are no pink ones left—I mean, isn’t candy yummy? I know! Hmmm, you have a tummy ache? Let’s go find your Mama."

And we look for your Mama
Because I’m your Tia, and that’s another word for, "This situation smacks of vomit or other unattractive bodily fluids. And if the fluid can’t be featured in a cocktail, not much of a chance I’m interested," I boldly stand aside while nudging the child toward Mama-but gently lest he spring a leak and begin to ooze startburst jellybeans (sans pink) all over a newly swept floor.

Hmmm…cocktails sound yummy
Because I’m your Tia and that’s another word for "Let’s make some cocktails!" And when Mama’s not looking, you may or may not get to do a little partaking. Not to shabby, eh? My sister/your Mama may pretend to be mortified, but you don’t find her putting up much of a defense to my argument that the family car trip appropriately punctuated with liquor goes quite a bit quicker. (not for the driver of course)

Being a Tia is certainly not being a Mom, but it’s not too shabby. The boys are still young enough to bond with me over a beautifully hand-crafted pair of black patent leather 4 inch high heels and the girls—well all I gotta do on that is bring out the lip gloss or something “diamond-y” and we’re good to go. (dont' think a 3 month old can't appreciate a high quality gloss) They love me even though they don’t really have to and I’ll continue to reward their love by pinching their bottoms, hanging them upsidedown by their feet, kissing their bare tummies, racing them down the street and telling them I win (none of this over-inflated self-esteem crap), and telling them they’re the cutest children I’ve ever seen --- really.

He's Everywhere...

How is it possible for a two-year-old to be everywhere all at once? I swear Camden has super-human abilities and that someday I will find out he has an alter-ego capable of making messes in every room simultaneously --- and that I wasn't just imagining things. It's pretty sad when daddy arrives home from a long day at work and instead of asking me how my day was, all he has to do is look around at the house and quickly assess how exactly the past 8+ hours have been.

There are good days ---and then there are bad days. Days when I think I have mastered the art of keeping my kids so incredibly occupied that they have little time to even think about touching anything around the house, and then days where I find myself still in my pajamas at 3 o'clock in the afternoon, not due to laziness mind you, but because when my feet hit the floor earlier that morning I was already half a day behind in the mess-making department and well, you just never recover from that type of handicap in the land of mothering. (when was the last time you wrote an 92-word sentence trying to capture the essense of mothering a two-year-old? yeah, I thought so --- oh, and i dare you to go back and count just to double check!)

Anyway, a wise woman (my mom!) once said, "It's not that your kids are bad or hard to control or anything like that, it's just that they are CONSTANT." I knew when she said it exactly what she meant... constantly moving, constantly testing the boundaries, constantly hungry, constantly into everything ---constant, constant, constant. You know what being the mom of a two-year-old has taught me? Domestic Engineers like myself should have unionized all those year's ago ---we get no coffee breaks, no lunch breaks, practically no potty breaks (unless you count having 2 or 3 kiddos in the lieu with you as you hurry to pee before someone gets into something they shouldn't a real potty break!), no vacations (need I say more?), no holidays, oh, and my favorite --- no paycheck. What other profession puts up with these working conditions?!? We missed out on the union ladies.

Instead of union benefits, I get the following:

- at least 50 hugs, "i love you's" and kisses per day (not many from Cammy, but I'm not bitter, no,really!)

- told "Mommy, you're so pretty!" on days that if Cade really knew what the world considers "beauty" the word pretty wouldn't have even made it in his sentence!

- smiled at by Chloe, just for showing up --- just because I'm the mommy!

So, I guess afterall what I do have is a pretty good deal ---if I can just make it long enough to look back on these days and savor the memories! I get stopped in the grocery store at least once a week (do I really look that pathetic and worn out?!?) by someone with kids older than mine and they always say the same thing, "Cherish these times, you will miss them---someday!" Here's to figuring out how cherish these years ---not only 'someday'---but also now, smack dab in the middle of them!

"Mommy, I Just Need to Touch Jesus' Clothes!"

Thursday night at our house, was one of those nights other mothers should warn you about BEFORE you are even considering getting pregnant! If you are a mom, you know what I mean. Let's just say, I fed my family some leftovers (Brazilian Chicken with Mango Salsa--- recipe by Rachel Ray no less!) and well I think I gave them food poisoning! What mom does this? Am I the only one who fails so miserably at times at this thing we call motherhood?

So, you can only imagine how my night was spent! THANKFULLY, only Cade was up visiting the toilet throughout the night. Cammy just had some interesting diapers that I was so graciously allowed to partake in the next day.

Friday, Cade woke up to tell me he was feeling better. He laid on the couch most of the day and didn't eat much of anything. He did drink some apple juice, which he promptly threw up shortly thereafter. Well, that afternoon he LEPT off the couch and ran to the bathroom. So fast that I didn't even realize he was gone (we were snuggling on the couch while I nursed the baby) until I heard him throwing up in the bathroom for the 50th time it seemed. This is the conversation that ensued, and the type of conversation that makes my job as a mom SO WORTH IT!

Me: "Cade are you okay, baby?"

Cade: "Yes, mommy, I'm just throwing up."

Me: "Yes, sweetie, mommy is so proud of you for making it to the toilet!" (this is the first time his throw up has ended up in the proper receptacle in his short 4 years of life!)

Cade: silence as he throws up again

Me: "Cade, are you going to make it?"

Cade: "Yes, mommy --- I just need to touch Jesus' clothes --- can you pray to God please?"

In church last week the kids learned about the woman with the issue of blood that touched the hem of Jesus' garment and was healed. I LOVE how simple things are for Cade --- he believes, no questions asked. I'll have to remember this the next time I try to make my life and my relationship with God all complicated and crazy!

A Blog is Born ---

I am 4.25 years into this thing called Motherhood (not including the first pregnancy because I had NO IDEA what motherhood had in store for me... NO IDEA). At times it has been W-O-N-D-E-R-F-U-L. At times it has been not. What I have learned in the first 4.25 years is that in each day there are these moments --- LIFE moments where eternity practically stands still. It is in these capsulized treasures that mothers get the strength to go on --- to wake up and do it all over again the next day.

This blog was born to begin trying to capture some of these times and in doing so maybe preserve a little bit of my sanity! My kids are young --- and they are hilarious, energetic and well, KIDS! I know this blog will be therapeutic for me as I sift through the "daily grind" and try to memorialize these special gifts. I hope it will be life-giving for you also, as you laugh with us!