Wordless Wednesday

Just voicing my opinion

If anyone watched some TV yesterday, you might have seen the picture of Miley Cyrus from Hannah Montana. She is nude with what seems to be a silk sheet of some sort covering her front.

I guess what irritates me about this is that she is only 15 and her parents should have stopped it. They are there to protect her, but yet they displayed her.

In my opinion, taking a picture of a baby with no clothes is completely different than a young woman in no clothes. Miley is being looked up to by lots of other young women. She is a role model of some sort to these young women and then she shows up in a Vanity Fair magazine photo shoot half naked.

I like Hannah Montana. I like that it is a fun, energetic, clean kid show. My boys enjoy watching that show. So I hope that I don't have to explain to my boys why Miley is posing as she is.

Her parents were supposedly at the photo shoot. I'm sorry, but when someone says "take your clothes off", it should be a warning of some sort. Artistic or not, she shouldn't have done it.

My boys look through my Better Homes and Garden magazine and see a woman clad in a bikini promoting a diet pill of some sort. They think she's naked. They start to giggle and point at the picture and say "look, she's naked". UB tore the picture out while AB was looking at it and brought it to me to tell me that AB was looking at a nasty picture. AB said "I still have the legs".

I do want to shield my kids from lots of stuff. I know it's not possible, but I'm going to try to do it as long as I can.

So how do you explain to your kids about this photo that shows Miley the way she is?

I just need a cup.......

Baseball Season has officially started. The boys had their first tournament this past weekend.

But before the tournament started on Friday, I had to finish getting AB's 'uniform'.

AB plays catcher and the rule (on paper) is that he has to wear full protection: catcher's helmet, chest protector, leg protectors, cup. Yup, a cup. So off I went in search of a cup for AB. Even though we do hand me downs here at this house, I'm not really sure that a cup is one of those things. I knew that AB had to go with me because trying on a cup, with it still in the package, is something that I was planning on doing at the store. You know, the measuring to see if was going to fit.

We went to Wal-Mart, because Wal-Mart is supposed to have everything. But contrary to popular belief, Wal-Mart does not carry everything. They didn't have any cups, at least not the kind that we needed.

When I first told AB that he was needing a cup, he was confused. "Is it going to be paper or plastic mom? Why do I need one of those cups down there any way?" Because one day I want to have grandchildren, that's why.

Off we go to another store. One that specializes in sports. Still no cup. I guess the entire town of mamma's wanted to protect their little one's prized jewels. Come on, it's just hard to think of your 7 yr old wearing a cup. Cups that grown men use when they play sports.

We proceed to another town that has a store that also specializes in sports.

Me: "Do you have any cups his size?" pointing to AB
Man: "Yes, right here" taking me to the display of cups
Man: "Does he have a slider?"
Me: obviously very confused. Looking at the cup in the package that he has handed me. Then looking at him with a blank stare "Um, a slider?"
Man: "It's these underwear that hold the cup in place"
Me: "Didn't know there was such a thing, but no, he doesn't have a slider."

I purchased the items, hand AB his bag and drive home in order to get ready for the big game that night. I didn't realize that buying a cup would be so difficult.

I just thought dressing boys would be easier than dressing girls

When the boys were babies, I was pretty excited. The stores didn't have 'cute' clothes for boys like they did for girls. Sometimes you could find a 'cute' outfit that wasn't girly looking. I am not one to dress up either, so this job of being a mom to boys was going to be easy ( so I thought). Jeans and T-shirts here we come, is what I would say most of the time. Seemed easy enough. I didn't have to worry about matching shirt and bottoms. I didn't have to worry about how the materials were the wrong style or how the top didn't quite fit good enough, or how the bottoms were not tight enough. That was, until I met the mini-adults in my boys.

Now, I don't usually buy them clothes (unless I know that I won't go wrong) unless they are with me. They are worse than girls (in my opinion). So much for not having high maintenance clothes wearers.

Let's start with UB. UB likes to run around in his underwear in the summer and in his pajamas during the winter. He's not particularly picky about his pajamas. Yes, they have to match every once in a while, but he's ok with boxers and a T-shirt. But when he gets dressed for the day, boy howdy, you'd better watch out. He is a jeans and T-shirt kinda guy. No colored pants for him. I can't even get him to wear dressy pants. Although for Easter, he was going to wear some nice dressy pants, but they ended up being too big.

And I know that I could 'make him' wear dressy pants to church, but you know what? In the light of infinity, is it really going to matter what he's dressed in? Seriously, what are his Sunday School teacher's going to say "I remember the day that UB said that Jesus died on the cross for our sins, he was wearing blue slacks with pleats in the front that were cuffed on the bottom and a light colored shirt with stripes and a color." Yeah, right. They are only going to remember what he said, not what he wore.

Anyway, UB likes to wear his jeans fitted. Remember the 80's? That's UB. Very Van Halen. If the jeans aren't tight, he's not wearing them. It's ok if they have holes in them, as long as they fit him snug. The shirt can't hang over the top front of his jeans. He's painstakingly put on these tight jeans, he can't have loose shirts hanging over his work in progress.

So he goes through his routine of going through every shirt in his closet until he finds the 'right' one to go with the jeans that he's picked out. And then he ends up with an outfit like this.

Not bad huh? The jeans aren't as tight as he'd like them, but he didn't have any other clean jeans, so that look will have to do. A James Dean kinda look.

AB is just as difficult. Although, AB is OCD. Or as I say OCB because it's a behavior problem. AB doesn't necessarily have to have tight jeans, finding some that fit him would be even better.

He has a closet full of clothes, but he wears the same shirts over and over. When I don't wash his favorite shirt, his under armour, he just takes it out of the dirty clothes and wears it again. Until he realizes that it stinks and then he puts it back in the hamper.

AB likes to lay his clothes out for the next day. He gets his pants laid out nice and neat, the belt that he's going to wear looped through the belt loops on the pants. He gets his shirt spread out nice and neat then finds the socks that he's going to wear. He normally gets his shoes as well, that way he won't have to go hunt anything down.

He wears jeans and T-shirts as well, although, he likes to wear shirts with collars sometimes. Now that it's been warm, he has to have camo shirts with a matching shirt, tucked in, with a belt around the shorts and short socks with his tennis shoes. He won't wear flip flops or sandals.

And I just thought that being the mother of two boys would be easier than being the mother of any number of girls.

Hey, you have something in your teeth!

If you were with someone that had something on their face, or their teeth, would you let them know?

The other day, I was talking to a friend. She had a boogar on the side of her nose. I told her about it. She wasn't embarrassed, she was grateful that I told her. Seriously, I don't think I could have finished a conversation with her. That boogar would be talking to me. 'ha, ha, you see me don't you' 'look at me just hanging around'. And you know that when there is a distraction on the other person's face, your eyes keep darting back to it. You know you do it.

How do you tell a man that his zipper is down? Do you get embarrassed about it? Do you have someone else tell him? I think it depends on the man. If you are close friends, then he wouldn't be embarrassed.

I remember in High School, we were at Burger King using the bathroom. One of our friends came out with her skirt up in the back and dragging toilet paper. We laughed at her. Probably because we were all best friends and we loved to laugh about life because quite frankly, we didn't have a care in the world. We did tell her about it and even now when we talk about it, we still laugh.

I know there have been times that I have had pepper of something green in my teeth and no one told me about it. Quite embarrassing on my part. I do hope that if I have something in my teeth or leftover food on my face, or a boogar on my face or hanging down my nose, that someone would tell me.

When you get home and see this object that was obviously fascinated to the other person, but not enough to tell you about it, you start to talk to yourself. 'I wonder how long it's been there?' 'How many more people saw it?' Then you become paranoid the next time you are out in public. Wiping your nose, swiping your tongue across your teeth just to make sure nothing is there, hiding behind a napkin. Just kidding, but you do wonder if next time you are out in public someone will recognize you as 'the one with spinach in her teeth'.

And sometimes you have the silent signals. You know, the darting of the eyes to the object, the wiping of your face or your nose, just to see if the person you are talking to gets the hint. But then it becomes a game. They wipe their nose, you think you have something so you wipe your nose, then they do it, then you do it and before you know it, you're not even thinking about the conversation, you are wanting to go to a bathroom to go look in the mirror.

It surprises me that people get embarrassed telling you that you have some of that stuff on your face, but walk out in the world with a big zit on your face and everyone is sure to tell you about that. Yes, go ahead and tell me about something that I can't wipe of, why don't you?

Wordless Wednesday

A Mother's Heart Knows

What better way to tell Mom how much you appreciate her on Mother's Day than with this lovely reminder of thoughts about the loving, selfless attitudes that fill a mother's heart?

The text and original four-color illustrations will be a beautiful and touching reminder to Mom that her love is never forgotten. The text is a reminder of those things that only a mother's heart knows, with some special emphasis on a Christian mother. Appropriate Scripture verses will be incorporated into the design element.

All royalty proceeds from this book go to WINGS (Women In Need Growing Stronger) and a student missionary scholarship fund. WINGS is a non-profit organization that provides a domestic violence shelter for women and their children in addition to transitional housing and programs.

Enter the contest:

The "My Favorite Mom" spa basket contest. In honor of Mother's Day, Margaret would love to hear and share your favorite story about your mother (or someone who is like a mother to you). To enter the contest go here and share your story to win one of TWO fabulously scrumptious spa baskets! She will be posting the stories (with your permission of course) on her blog.

About the Author:
Margaret lives with her husband and two daughters in a Chicago suburb. Her book, A Mother's Heart Knows was published by Thomas Nelson in 2005. Go Back and Be Happy, a co-authored book will be published by Lion Hudson in July 2008. Margaret has been featured on Greg Wheatly's ,Prime Time America, TLN's Aspiring Women, and LeSea's The Harvest Show. Margaret writes freelance articles for The Daily Herald, the largest suburban Chicago newspaper. Notable interviews include Wolfgang Puck, Thomas Kinkade, Susan Branch and Dr. John Gottman. Margaret also wrote a feature article for crosswalk.com. With a master's degree in international business, Margaret became a vice president in the corporate finance division of a New York City bank and worked there from 1986-1993. Supporting charitable causes is important to Margaret. For the past five years, she has served on the board of directors for WINGS, an organization that helps abused women and their children get a new start in life.

The little red barn with no toilet paper

So we went on another Sisterchicks excursion. Three of us were going in one car and were going to meet our other friend in Fredericksburg, TX. We had no idea what was in Fredericksburg when we were making plans to have an excursion. We just all knew that we wanted to go somewhere.


Off we went into the wild blue yonder. No husbands and no kids. Just four women with no one but themselves to watch out for and nothing to do but laugh until they peed in their pants.


On our way down there, we stopped at Wiseman Chocolates. I am not a chocolate eater. I know, un-American, but I do eat it once a month. However, I enjoy some White Chocolate. They had a variety of truffles, handmade, and some fresh fudge. I got some White Chocolate Praline fudge. Yummy!!! But one of the girls got some truffles named Wild Woman. On the way back home, we stopped there again and the girls bought Love Potion truffles. I guess they missed their men.


This place even had some Sugar Free chocolate for Hubster.


When we were getting closer, we called our friend to see where our cabin was. She gave us directions and said to look for a red barn. We then knew we were in trouble if we were staying in a barn out in the country.


The barn house was converted from a barn that housed horses. The bathroom was literally a stall. As were the rooms. It was pretty cool.


When we opened the door, we were greeted by a Nyala. A South African native right in our living boots. I'm thinking that the boots are just in case the Nyala wants to make a quick get away. No matter where we were, it's eyes seemed like they followed us around. I'm glad I didn't sleep in that room with that thing looming over.

We even had time to go get a pedicure.

We saw lots of wild flowers and then were fascinated by this peculiar thing. We thought it was a hummigbird and took lots of pictures to look at them later to figure out what it was. We later found out it was a Hummingbird moth.

Whatever it is, it sure is different and pretty.

When you put four women in a house, there are certain things that are needed to make the stay quite comfortable. For example, food would be good. We ate lots. Lots of desserts as well. So we would bring our left over desserts to the barn house.

You also need lots of toilet paper. That was a problem at this barn house. There were only two rolls of TP with four women. You do the math. We called the owner of the barn house on day two to tell her of our opportunity. She informed us that she was not home and would bring us some that evening. We were out by the time we left for dinner and still no TP around.

After dinner, we all made sure that we used the rest room because we really weren't sure that there was TP at the barn house. I went to the bathroom and put some TP in my bra. Another girl went in and did the same. Without knowing that I had done it as well. She comes back to the table and proceeds to pull out her wad of TP from her bra. I do it at the same time she does. She however gets caught by a couple walking past us.

We go back to the barn house and we find only one roll of TP in the bathroom. No extra roll for us. I think there maybe was an extra roll but the Nyala must have used it.

When we leave, we replace the almost gone roll of TP with an empty roll and place the almost gone roll in one of the girls suitcase without her knowing it. Sure was funny when she called from home to see who put the TP in her bag.

I think it was also mating season down in Texas. We saw birds doing it, butterflies, and even cows.

We did do lots of laughing and wetting our pants. We shopped a lot (some of us more than others), we were goofy, we walked a lot and we ate a lot. We were able to be candid with each other and not get our feelings hurt, we were able to eat warm food without having to fix our kids plates, we were able to do what we wanted when we wanted.

But most importantly, we learned that A happy heart makes the face cheerful (Proverbs 15:13)and A cheerful heart is good medicine (Proverbs 17:22)

Until the next time Sisterchicks!! Thanks for the memories!

I'm back, but not completely

I am running behind schedule today as I'm soaking in all the lovin' that my boys are giving me due to the fact that I've been gone for 3 days. And boy am I taking advantage of that situation.

AB doesn't really show affection, we take what we can get. UB can't seem to stop giving me kisses. Yes, I think I'll soak it all in, if ya'll don't mind.

I do have stories to tell of our Sisterchicks adventure. But it is going to have to wait until I can get the pictures edited.

I have lots to tell about chocolate, bathing in a horse stall, living in a barn for 3 days, and toilet paper stories.

I have to start school now, so I'll talk to ya'll later today.

If you are bored and would like to spend time looking to win some stuff, go to the Bloggy Carnival Giveaways.

I think we need a new highlighter

Adventure Boy has been in need of a new Bible. He has a small New Testament that he received when he was born and a Bible for babies. Since he's 7, he doesn't want to use those. I'm not really sure why.

So off we went to go find a more 'mature' Bible. We looked at lots of them. I liked a certain one, but he didn't. While he acts like a child most of the time, he believes he's a big boy.

He didn't want one that looked babyish and didn't want one that had large print. So he settled on one that is geared for older kids.

I do believe AB is OCD because everything has to match and be in particular order. He was on a hunt for a matching cover. I saw a cute one, but he didn't want cute, he wanted matchy.

While we were looking for the Bible, UB wanted to get one as well. I told him we'd get him one at another time. He then wanted to know if he could get a Bible cover for his small New Testament. I really don't know what's wrong with the one that he already has.

We paid for the Bible, got in the car and AB opened his new Bible and wanted me to tell him some verses to read. I'd give him one to read and he'd say "I like that one mom". After a while, he said, "I think the Bible has a lot of verses that I like". Hmmmmm!

We went to Hubster's office to show off the new Bible, AB got a highlighter and life with the Bible is different. Now he wants to highlight all the time. The word is lit up.

UB also highlighted 'universes' in his Bible. Let's just say that there are lots of pages ALL lit up in his little Bible. Lots of 'universes' that he likes.

It was neat to see the face of a 7 yr old when he got a new Bible. It was wonderful to see his face light up because he was eager to read God's word.

I pray that he always has this excitement with God's word. I pray that he hide's God's word in his heart.

***********************************************************
I am off on my Sisterchicks weekend get away.

Talk to ya'll Monday.

Wordless Wednesday

All I want is a sno cone

We live out in the country. It takes us less than 5 minutes to get to one small town and then a little over 10 minutes to get to another town. But town B is really not that big. It is still considered a small town. There are not very many places to eat, but they do have a Wal-Mart.

Town B also has one main road in town to get you to all the places in town. I usually try to avoid rush hour because it's always rush hour down that main road. You tend to age while trying to maneuver out of the Braum's parking lot just to make it home before your ice cream melts on your back seat.

My complaint is this. I HATE TEENAGE DRIVERS!!!!!

Now, I know that hate is a strong word, and that I shouldn't use it, but I'm going to. Because I really, really, really, dislike teenage drivers. Not all teenage drivers, only the ones that drive around in expensive vehicles and think they own the road. The ones that will not hesitate to show you that you are number one in their book. The ones that have a car full of peers that they want to show off in front of. The ones that cut you off at the sno cone place because how can anyone over 20 need a sno cone?

But don't mess with a momma who is in neeeeeed of a sno cone!

They have a place in town that has some yummy sno cones. Charlie Brown is my favorite. Yumm! Anyway, I went yesterday because this place also has some sugar free sno cones for Hubster. The line to the drive thru was very long, but I already had the Charlie Brown flavor in my mouth. So I was not leaving that long line without a sno cone.

There were teens everywhere. It could be that the High School is up the road from this sno cone place. But there were teens in cars in the drive thru lane and teens standing in front of the window at the walk thru lane.

There was a particular car full of teens that was getting out at the time I was still in the street trying to make my way behind a line of cars that would eventually lead me to the drive up the sno cone place. As I inched forward slowly in my car to get behind the car in front of me, this car with teens was coming out. I guess they thought I was going to block the road that would lead them back to the school because they all looked at me, raised their hands at me, said some stuff to me, and then revved their engine up and got in front of me.

Now, I'm not really sure what they said as I had my windows rolled up, but I think they said that I was the bomb. Yeah right!

I let this incident pass. But after getting my sno cones and driving on the main road(only road) that would take me to Hubster's office, who do you think I see? Yes! That same car with the teens in it. They end up in front of me and stop in the road to have a conversation with another vehicle that is coming the opposite direction. The driver then revs his engine up because he realizes that the light is about to turn red. I of course end up at the red light.

When I continue on after my light turns green, there is another group of teens in a truck. These guys are showing off to some girls next to them. They go fast, then they slow down. They continue this for quite a while. At least until the light, again, is about to turn red. Who do you think gets stuck at the red light again? That's right, me!

I continue on, again, only to be cut off by another teen driver who decided he didn't like the outer right hand lane anymore because that meant he couldn't turn left to his destination. So he gets right in front of me, and crosses over two lanes to cut off more people, so that he could go hang out with his friends some where. I'm guessing there.

What should have only taken 5 minutes to get to Hubster's office, took a lot longer. But while I'm hating teenage driver's, I'll just enjoy my sno cone as poor Hubster's sno cone melts in the cup holder.

What is that smell?

When I finished loading up the groceries, I walked to the driver's side and opened the door.
A profound smell came rushing out of there as if to say "let me out".

I start sniffing, because that's what a good mom does. She sniffs when something smells amiss.

I smell a foul smell. I can't quite figure out what it is, so my smeller keeps smelling and inhaling.

I ask the boys what that smell is, as it is unlike any other I've smelled.

They grin their innocent grin, look at each other and start to laugh.

I ask again what that smell is, all the while sniffing away.

They proceed to tell me that because it was warm outside, their butts were wet and they needed to wipe them. So they took off their pants to wipe their butts with their underwear.

Hence the smell. I think I'll just stop sniffing now.

Ahhh, I'm so proud of my boys!

Hot Beef Po' Boys

Hubster is diabetic, so lately, I've been trying to make sure that we eat healthy. I redo my recipes that I have been making for years to try to make them diabetic friendly. But grease and diabetes don't go well together.

Hubster is a meat and potato kind of guy. Salads are ok with him, but they've got to have lots of meat of chicken in them.

I found this recipe in a Diabetic Cooking book. It looked good, but boy does it really taste good.

I of course modified it somehow, because that's just the way I am. I'm weird.

I used 7 grain sandwich rolls and used more spices than the recipe calls for. We also like onions and garlic, so I used more than what it called for. But play with it and make it your own.

For more recipes go to www.fiddledeedee.net for more Saturday Stirrings

Hot Beef Po' Boys

16 ounce load baguette bread, halved lengthwise

Nonstick cooking spray

6 ounces thinly sliced onion

8 ounces sliced mushrooms

1 tsp garlic, minced

1 tsp dried oregano

1 cup water

1/2 tsp Worcestershire sauce

8 ounces sliced roast beef

1 Tbl prepared mustard

1 cup grated Mozzarella cheese

1. Preheat oven to 350. Hollow out loaf using a fork. Cut loaf into 6 equal pieces. Place loaf shells on baking sheet; set aside.

2. Heat a 12" nonstick skillet over medium-high heat; coat with cooking spray. Add onion; cook 5 minutes or until browned, stirring often. Remove from pan.

3. Coat skillet with cooking spray. Add mushrooms, garlic and oregano; cook 4 minutes or until mushrooms brown, stirring frequently.

4. Return onions to skillet with water and Worcestershire. Bring to boil over medium-high heat. Cook 5 minutes or until liquid evaporates. Remove from heat; keep warm.

5. Bake loaf shells for 3 minutes; remove from oven. Top bottoms with equal portions beef. Spread 1/2 teaspoon mustard on each and sprinkle evenly with cheese. Bake tops and bottoms another 3 minutes or until beef is warm.

6. Spoon 1/4 cup mushroom mixture over beef. Top with remaining loaf shells, pressing down gently.

I'm not rambling, really, I'm not!

My blogger thingy is not letting me add any pictures or do anything.

This is going along GREAT with my day.

You know, the day where things just 'happen' to not go right.

The boy claims he doesn't remember how to do subtraction.

He also claims that he can't figure out how to make his bed.

The other boy claims that he needs to finish his art project on the computer before he does school.

This boy also claims that his room is clean even though all his toys are piled under his bed.

They have made 'toilet paper rolls' out of wet toilet paper rolled in a tight cigar looking thing. And then froze the things.

Now they are throwing these 'toilet paper rolls' at each other to try to see who can throw it the hardest.

I have at least 4 loads of laundry to do today, all because I procrastinated yesterday.

I have a hair appt in which the boys have to go with me because Hubster is not here to watch them for me. I just hope they don't break anything today.

I like the cold air, but I'M READY FOR SOME WARM AIR SO THAT THESE KIDS CAN GO PLAY OUTSIDE!

At least the wind is not blowing hard today. 15mph is a lot better than 25mph.

I'm actually looking forward when the boys friends come over later today for a sleep over. Three boys + my two boys = entertaining themselves without bothering me

I guess that's enough rambling for today.

Have a Blessed Day everyone!

chaotic book shelves

Lysa Terkeurst is having a Swap & Hop over at her place today. Go visit the other places that could use your suggestions, or if you need help on organizing something, add your link.
www.lisaterkeurst.blogspot.com




This is the big bookcase in the school room that is used to hold all our stuff. I've tried grouping reading books together, coloring/art books together, school books together, but somehow they all want to mingle with each other. I need help! Those totes hold all the play doh stuff, extra school supplies and some manipulatives.

Anyone have any ideas? Please?

The rocks in the backpack

Hubster was out of town recently and when he's out of town, I don't concentrate much on the house keeping as I should. That's when I do the other stuff that doesn't get done when he's here. Like read and paint my toe nails. Just kidding.

During this topsy turvy weather here in Oklahoma, we had a good day or two that week. The boys went outside and collected rocks in a backpack. No reason, they were just bored and decided that collecting rocks embedded with dirt was a great way to pass the boredom. That was fine with me because that kept them from arguing (at least for the 5 minutes they collected the rocks).

On the day that Hubster was to come back home, we had a house cleaning party. Mostly just to pick up all the toy soldiers and other men, along with the lego's that were laying on my floor. These men were watching over the house or something to that extent because they were all laid out on the floor in a certain pattern starting from the back door and all around the kitchen and the living room floor. I'm glad Hubster wasn't here because I'm sure he would have ended up with a blood blister on his foot just like the time he stepped on the lego.

So when AB picked up the backpack full of rocks that had made it into the house, he was complaining about how heavy it was and how he couldn't lift it today.

Then I had an a-ha moment. Every now and then I have those, but usually I have momnesia moments. (Thanks Lou, for telling me about that word)

I told AB to pick it up and put it on his back. I told him to walk around with it and see how heavy it was. He, of course, looked at me as if I had lost my mind, but then he put it on. UB was watching from the sidelines actually telling me that it was too heavy for his brother. It was going great. Right along with my a-ha moment.

I asked AB if the load he was carrying was heavy. He was trying to carry it, but his legs kept buckling down. UB kept saying that it was too heavy for his brother and he needed to take it off because he was going to get hurt.

I finally told them that this was similar to the way Jesus felt when he was carrying the cross.
Of course the cross was much heavier and Jesus was in much pain, but the boys knew what I meant. I also said that just as UB was concerned for his brother, amongst the people that wanted to see Jesus crucified, there were some that were concerned for him.

They each looked at me with their big eyes and then UB said "but mom, Jesus died on the cross for our sins". And AB said, "that's why we have to have Jesus in our hearts".

I think the lesson went well.

Wordless Wednesday

What type of massage would you like?

I am going on a trip with three of my sisterchicks. I was researching the area, because I was once a girl scout, and you have to be prepared you know.



I found eating places that someone had told me about. Things that they said would be fun and then I came across a spa place. They had all kinds of spas and massages. Regular massages, hot rock massages, herbal massages, hand and feet massages and on and on. While they all sound enticing, there was one type of massage that did not.



Ear candle massaging.



Apparantly, they get candles to burn the 'excess' wax out of your ears.



I don't know about you but I'm kind've fond of the excess wax in my ears. The wax and I have learned to adapt together.



This reminds me of my honeymoon. Hubster and I went on a cruise. While we were on this big boat in the middle of nowhere, he tells me that he can't hear out of one ear. (I think this is where his selective listening started) Hi honey, I love you!



Anyway, we knew they didn't have any ear wax removal at the gift shop. Can you just imagine what the clerk would think when you came to the gift shop and said, "I'd like some suntan lotion spf 80, that cool shell keychain, some bunny ears, and some ear wax please."



I put some saline solution from his contacts in his ear. It didn't work. He did however, have some nice clean ears after that.



For a couple of days, he walked around not hearing anything.



When we got home, the first thing he did was buy some ear wax removal stuff. All I'm going to say is this, that stuff works.



So, no, I don't think I'll pay $60 for someone to burn a candle in or near my ear in order to remove excess wax, when I can buy a bottle of ear wax removal at the local drug store for $5.

Look ma, I'm a land owner!

Last week, we attended a Land Run. It was put on at a museum. It was actually quite wonderful. Mainly because someone else was doing the teaching for the day.

The land run was for area homeschooler's. They divided the kids into two classes. Either art or music. This was the group they were to be in for the remainder of the session which lasted about 4 hours and included lunch. We moms were very proud of our children because the museum people kept telling us how well behaved they all were and that these were the best groups they had ever had. We moms all paid the ladies after that comment.

After their art or music project was done, they were going outside to do the actual land run. The kids had all been told stories about certain women and how they reacted to the land run. They were also told when this happened and other stuff that happened during the land run.
The museum people had marked some land outside with the paint sticks you get when you buy paint. Each stick had a tract of land written on it and when the kids got their 'stick' from their land, they were to take it to the ladies so that they could actually get a piece of paper telling them what plot of land they had.

It was fun and the kids loved it. Well, because of that land run, UB thinks that he is an official land owner.

Now, in school, when I tell him to do his school, he shows me his stick that shows his plot of land on it and says "I don't have to because I'm a land owner".

Anyone need a five year old that is a land owner?

Where is Heaven?

Conversation with my 5 yr old.

UB: Mama, where is Heaven?

ME: Heaven is where God is. We can't see Heaven.

UB: I know where Heaven is.

ME: You do?

UB: Yes. You go above the clouds and onto the sky and then you go to outer space and Heaven is somewhere in the galaxy.



Makes sense to me.

Hi, It's me. Or maybe it isn't.

I received a phone call from some, some, some MAN (emphasis on the man). Even though I have our phone number on the do not call list, we occasionally get phone calls from someone that didn't get the memo that we are not interested in whatever they are selling.

Thanks to caller ID, I usually don't answer the phone unless the I recognize the number. Or when I haven't had any adult conversations, then I pick up the phone in desperation and talk to whoever is on the other end until they get tired of me talking and they hang up on me.

But yesterday, I was distracted and didn't look at the caller ID, so here is how my conversation went.

Me: Hello
Man: Hi, Mrs. Harriet?
Me: I'm sorry, you've got the wrong number.
Man: (getting irate) No, I know you are Mrs. Harriet.
Me: No, I am not Mrs. Harriet. You have the wrong number.
Man: I know you are Daisy Harriet, so quit saying you are not.
Me: Look man, you don't know who I am because you can't see me. (stick tongue out at phone)I am not Daisy Harriet, you have the wrong number. I've told you people lots of times before that this is not the correct phone number for Daisy Harriet.
Man: I know you think you're not Daisy Harriet, but you are.

I knew I had a problem all this time. I've been pretending to be me when in fact I'm somebody else.

Wordless Wednesday

Let's get ready for baseball

Baseball season has started up again. The boys are pretty excited about it. Since this is the only sport so far that UB is old enough to participate in, he's been the most excited.

AB is in coach pitch baseball with Hubster as his coach and UB is in t-ball. We've had a couple of practices and so far they've gone well.

I wonder how it will be this year as far as parents yelling from the sidelines or the coaches yelling at the kids. Hubster has already said that he's not going to do that. I don't know UB's coach, so I'm not aware of how he handles stress.

Last year, it was sad to see how many parents belitted their children for the sake of a point. Or for that matter, how many coaches threw a fit out in the middle of the ball field because they didn't think the umpire made the correct call. I'd understand if this were the play offs, but all this happened in t-ball.

There was a particular incident in which the opposing team's coach called our team's coach a donkey's butt in front of all the children. This same coach went on to yell at his players for striking out or for not catching the ball. There were a couple of kids that started to cry, some just looked at him as if HE were the donkey's ___.

In the couple of practices this so far, I can't really tell how it's going to be. I just pray that it's not a show down with the moms. You'd think the dad's would be the one's, but those mom's can get after it. Some yell at only their kids and some stay quiet. One mom said that last year she would offer some constructive criticism to her son, when he suddenly stopped the game, looked over at her and said "you are not my coach". That was the last time she said anything.

So I'm starting to pray. Praying that I learn to keep my mouth shut when it comes to listening to what the other parents say. Praying that it won't get out of hand in which there are arguments happening. Praying that the kids have fun.