Hmmm, what's missing here?

Buried at PhotoCasket.com

Yes, it definately needs more cowbell...



Buried at PhotoCasket.com

Now it's perfect

New Member

This is Luther, after Martin Luther, father of the Protestant Reformation. He's a 3 month old rottie/boxer mix. We got him from a dog rescue. He's very sweet :)

Stay tuned....

Two too fast

My little Princess turned two! I have to admit, it was really hard for me when her birthday started creeping up. I’m very thankful to have a healthy, happy little girl who’s growing and thriving, but every year that goes by is another step she takes away from me, and being my little girl. Now I know, she’s still little and all, but it made me weep to see her turn two. I can’t even imagine what it will be like (Lord willing) to see her turn 16, or 18, or 21. To watch her go away to college, or dare I say….to get married…UGH! The thought makes me nuts! I’m not really sure why it hits me so hard with this one, but it really does. Don’t get me wrong, I’m not dying to watch my boys grow up either, but something about Libby just gets to me.

Anyways, she’s two now and life goes on. But part of me really misses one.

Just What I Needed

This week I've been volunteering at my church's VBS. I got put incharge of the crafts. This means that I had to plan a craft for 3 different age groups each day for 4 days. I haven't been doing anything really "crafty" for a long while now. So even though I was excited, I was little worried about the task I had before me. This week has been going really great. I think the kids have been having a good time, and even though I've been too busy for words, I have been having fun too. In fact, it seems that this has reopened the door to the creative part of my brain. I'm all excited about being creative, and have TONS of ideas that I can't wait to get started on. Now I am a realist, and I know that I have 4 kids, so time will be hard to find, but just the desire to want to do these kinds of things again has been all the encouragement I need to manage my time better so that I can get some craft time in on a regular basis.

Today I started the first of many things I hope to do in the near future...stay tuned for more!


















Libby's little house

Thumb, pinky, ring, middle, windex?

My son Ethan likes to know all the unimportant things in life that most kids could care less about. He ponders things like, “Can birds fart?”, or “How do flies sniff?”. Last week, we had a little talk about “Do our fingers have names?” We got through thumb, and pinky, and how Mommy doesn’t know why they’re called that. Then the ring finger because it’s the one for your rings, and the middle finger cause it’s in the middle. Then we got to the “windex finger”. That’s right, the windex finger. And it’s not called the windex finger cause that’s what Mommy sprays windex with. That would be silly he says. It's cause that’s “what you pick your nose with”

Makes perfect sense….?

He’s the one who always fell off the bed when he was a baby….

Never Thought Id' See The Day

I never thought I'd see the day when my football lovin' husband couldn't throw the ball with his boys, cause he was busy having a pretend tea party...

You gotta love that!

Night and Day

The difference between my boys and girls is night and day. When my boys do something wrong, they run. When I get them, usually some yelling is involved, and possibly a spank. They get mad, they cry, and then life goes on like it never happened. It seems as if they're not capable of being corrected by a gentle word of encouragemment to behave. In fact they down right laugh at you if you dare approach it that way. They're boys, full of testosterone, and definately in need of being ruled with a wooden paddle, and a stern, loud voice.
My daighter just graduated to a "Big Girl Bed" as she affactionately calls it. She loves her new bed. She has also discovered that she can get out of said big girl bed. She has gotten in the habit of coming out of her bed, creeping down the stairs, and watching tv from the foyer. We dicided that we had to put a stop to this. The first night, Daddy discovered her and said loudly "NO NO", and she lost it. We're used to talking that way, so this fragile little girl has proven to be quite a challenge. The next night, I discovered her, and said in a more quiet, soft voice, "no no, that's bad", again, she lost it. The third night, we heard her door squeak, and knew she had come out. I quietly walked upstairs, and found her hiding, behind her door, waiting for me. When she looked up and saw me, I inhaled in order to speak, and ....you guessed it, she lost it.
This is all so foreign to us. Our boys NEVER got upset just by a look. The don't even get upset by a yell sometimes. The boys are all business, and my little girl is ALL emotion. It's a strange, strange little world on her planet, and I wonder if we'll ever get it right.

Naked Soccer

For those familiar with my blog, you can probably recall several posts that contain the words "Why is it always him?", referring to my youngest son. Well, here's another one that fits the very question.

Last night after dinner, I was trying to get the kids cleaned up and directed to their baths/showers. Ethan's clothes were muddy, and like so many times before, I told him to take them off and put them by the washer(located off of the kitchen). He usually will take everything off but his underwear, and socks. But last night, I guess he was feeling wild. Now if you know Ethan, than you know that he's wild, unafraid, full of energy, and chocked full of testosterone. So it's perfectly fitting that when we couldn't find him for his bath, it's because he was outside...playing soccer in the yard...naked...and completely unashamed.

A small glimpse of the Garden in the beginning perhaps...or maybe just the blessing of a good chuckle to lighten the mood from a long day.

Either way, I know I'm growing, because it made me laugh out loud. Thanks to Doc for one of the greatest pieces of wisdom I've ever been blessed to hear...I miss you

Sweet Humor

This man is my hero...


http://www.coldstonecreamery.com/togo/togoindex.html#
(Check out the "To Go" video at the bottom of the webpage)


P.S. That T-shirt would be a great Mother's Day gift....hint hint

Finger Painting??

A few weeks back we made the decision to move our 3 year old from the bath tub, to the shower. He's getting to the age now where it's probably not good for him to be in the tub with our 20 month old daughter. Since his older brother takes a shower too, we thought it would be good to throw Ethan into the shower with Chris every night. The first few nights went well. We taught him how to wash his hair, and body, and he liked getting to be a big boy like Chris. After about a week, we figured they had it down and left them alone. Things seemed like they were going well.
The other night, after dinner, I told them to go up and get in the shower for bed. My 8 yearl old got all annoyed and said "Why does he have to take a shower with me now?" This confused me since we were under the impression that things were okay.

I said "Why are you so annoyed all of a sudden?"

He said "I hate taking showers with him!"

"Why?" I asked, "What's the big deal?"

"He sticks his finger in his butt, and smears it on the wall in the shower!!" He said, "And he thinks it's funny when I get mad about it!"

"Are you kidding me?!?!?" I said, "You can't be serious?"

"Yeah, and it stinks too" he replied.

"Ummm, you smelled it???"

"Yeah" he said all matter of fact like, "I wanted to see what it smelled like"

So Ethan takes a bath now again, and there's no more finger painting on the walls...

I'm so thankful that our last 2 have been girls!

I'll Never Understand

There's lots of things in life that are a mystery to me. Like why it always seems to rain when I wash my car, or how no one ever knows "who did it" when something gets broken or spilled.

The biggest mystery of all to me is my boys fascination with their...well...their wee wees. I mean, since they were old enough to realize it was there, they have spent much of their time twisting it, pulling it, flashing it, adjusting it, giggling about it, talking about it, etc. It's the first thing they reach for in the morning when I wake them up, as if to check to make sure it's still there. And once they got potty trained, the fascination with the wee wee moved into a fascination with what came out of it. They seem to find great joy in peeing. The make pictures in the toilet, spell things out, see who can make the funniest pee noise, and it goes on. My eight year old even peed in the bathroom trashcan (not now, when he was 6) to see if he could fill it up. When he didn't fill it up, he did what any 6 year old would do, he left it there for me to find later.

But my 3 year old takes the cake. Last week, I was quietly checking my e mail when I was interrupted by a bunch of screaming kids running through my house yelling "Aunt Tammy" "Mooooom" "Mrs. Mangum" "Come quick!". It seemed that my 3 year old thought that is would be a riot to drop his pants and pee in the driveway. Then to top it off, he danced in his little yellow stream and made pee pee foot prints....

Now I was furious, but it seems that my husband, who also has a wee wee, wasn't. He chalks it up to "what little boys do". I guess he would know better than me since he was one (I like to argue, still is).

Like I said, there are just some things I guess I will never understand...

Kid-isms

My kids never cease to amuse me. And lots of times it's right after they've embarassed me. I always think to myself that "I have got to tell so and so this, they would love it!". But usually I forget and never do. So I decided to start a section called Kid-Isms. That way I can write all the lovely things that my kids do to me, and you the reader, can me amused and even more so, be happy it wasn't you...

I'll add on from time to time, so check abck to see what's new


-A conversation with my 3 year old the other day

"Mommy, can I feed Abby? (our infant daughter)

"No, Ethan, I'm sorry, you can't"

"Because I don't have big boobies and mine are smashed in?"

I had no reply to this one...


-At my niece's 6th Birthday Party

As she was opening up a Barbie Doll, my 3 year old son stood up in the chair and screamed "Holy shit!"

Like I said, happy it wasn't you...


-At the grocery store with my 8 year old

We were in line behind an older man with some kid of disease. He has lots of tumor like things covering his whole head, face, and what we could see of his arms. He was smiling and happy, talking to the kids, and making silly faces at Libby. I continued in a conversation with him, all the while trying to ignore the bumps and the curiosity that I had about them. As soon as our converstaion was done he turned around to pay the cashier for his groceries. My eight year old turns to me and says " Geez, it's a good thing that Ethan isn't here. Who knows what he's be saying about that man's face!"

Um yes, he was still within ear shot of us and I'm quite sure he heard...

He was blogging while I was in labor...

Well, we did it again!

We welcomed Abigail Faith into the world on January 18th (my due date) at about 11:13 pm.

I did it O Natural, and it was great! Yes, it hurt, but still the feeling of doing it God's intended way, was indeed a wonderful experience.

I walked into the hospital 8cm dilated, and not sure if I was really inlabor or not. Yes, God had mercy on me. A few short hours later, our 2nd baby girl was here. She came so fast the doctor and nurses didn't even have time to prepare. Did I mention how God had mercy on me?

Long story short, during the not so painful contractions, there sat my labor coach, close by me...

...blogging











I still love him though, and I love even more the humerous distraction his blogging gave me.

Check it out for yourself

http://www.chrismangum.blogspot.com

My Kids Poop On Me...Part 2

Well, if you're familiar with my previous post about my kids pooping on me, than you will surely love this "part 2" of the poo poo saga.

It was an irregular evening, no chaos, no excitement, no bad behavior. Just happy, well behaved kids, approaching bath time. I should have known right? I have an 8 year old who is far beyond needing help from me to shower, so all I have to worry about is the little ones, Ethan 2, and Libby 1. Now we happen to be blessed with a pretty big bathtub in our master bathroom. So I use that to my advantage. I put both little guys in there at the same time, and then I only really have to give one bath a night. I save on water and time. I'm so smart I should write books!

Ahh, but what happens when your 2 year old screams "Libby pooped!!"? Well according to my previous post, he says that all the time, and had only been right once. And even though it was disaster, he's never really been right again since. I had no worries, and just like before, I ignored him. Until he started to cry that is. I turned from the sink where I was getting a rubber band for my hair, and there it was, poop, floating, everywhere. It was an SBD! That's right, silent, but deadly. I never heard her poop, but sure enough, Libby had produced enough diarrhea to fertilize a whole field of corn (that's a nice picture huh?) And there it was floating, covering the entire surface of the water. The blob had come back to terrorize us one more time.

Do they put poo poo repellent on diapers?

Now I don't want to bore you with all the crazy details of how long it took and how hard it was to clean that up. Let me just say this though, I dread bath time, and my daughters cute little heiny isn't so cute anymore. It's the enemy. And Ethan is officially known as The boy who cried poop!

Looks like my brillaint plan isn't really that brilliant after all.

Maybe I'll hold off on that book for now.

Are You Ready For Some Football?

It was a beautiful, sunny, Sunday with football on the TV. This is the best time of the year. Yes, we are ready for some football, and we love it. Doesn’t that little anthem just make you think of a bunch of big, manly men, sitting around yelling at the TV over pass interferences, and first downs? Well that little anthem used to indicate the start of the season where my husband will sit in front of the TV for most of the games, expecting not to be disturbed by me or any of the kids. After all, he’s busy counting up his points from this receiver, or that quarterback, for his Fantasy Football Team. This year started off no different from any other really, except the small fact that now instead of a house full of boys running around tackling each other, now, there is a little girl too. But really, what difference could a little old girl make?

After yelling at our soon to be 3 year old son for coming to close to his GIGANTIC glass of iced tea, sitting right on the edge of the coffee table, my husband settled back down to continue watching the game. Only to be startled by ice cold, tea flowing down his legs. It seems that little girl thought it would be amusing to smack his cup off of the table. “Uh oh” were the words she used as she stood there and looked at what she had just done.

Did you just gasp? Are you holding your breath out of fear yet? What in the world is Daddy going to say about that? Afraid to keep reading? Read on…

Daddy spent the next half hour, cleaning tea stains out of our white carpet. The whole time, baby girl is hugging his wet leg, snuggling his neck, and kissing him. The only words that Daddy had to say about this little mishap were these – “You’re just jealous because she loves me best!” Yes, honey, that’s exactly what I was thinking…

It’s funny the way a sweet little girl can ruin the manliest of men. I guess like most things in life, I just never saw this coming. And to say the least, it’s really just short of freaking me out at this point. It’s not that I don’t love every second of him acting like a goober and gushing over our little princess, but I worry terribly for his sanity. In one short year he has become worse than every man with a daughter he used to make fun of. Al it takes is a hug of his big neck, or a sloppy kiss on his cheek, and baby girl could have the world on a silver platter. What’s gonna happen in January when he has 2 little girls?

Forget football honey. Are you ready for some daughters???

My New Drug-Free PSA

Crack Kills

Even just a little butt, I mean bit, can be fatal.

Look what it's done to my brain already...


Baby Crack

Good Ol' Southern Hospitality

It’s taken a bit of getting used to living here. At first it was almost scary. I went to the grocery store and around every corner was someone asking me “Do ya need help findin’ anything?” By the end I felt like screaming “I’m not going to steal anything!!” I’ve learned since then, that they’re just really helpful, you know, because it’s their job to be.

It seems that “Customer Service” has a whole different meaning down here. It’s the strangest thing. People here are actually ready and willing, and most weird of all, happy to help customers. They actually feel good when they do too. Has anyone ever even heard of such a thing?

Moving on. The people in general, are just as strange. People pop out of nowhere and just start a conversation with you. I don’t even know these people, and here they are talking to me. When they find out we just moved here, they are eager to help me find my way to the next store, or tell me where the best pizza place is, or where I can get a good burger or BBQ. And their not even paid to help me. What’s the matter with these people?

My neighbors have all made their way over to meet us. They bring cookies, phone numbers, and offers of help anytime we should need it. We even were invited to a birthday party by one of them. They wave when ever they see you. They ask how you’ve been. People out walking will wave too, and their not even my neighbors. When I drive around, people doing yard work will wave and smile. Don’t these people know I’m not their neighbor?

Now that I’ve drown you with my sarcasm, I’ll make my point. Living in general is so different here. It’s like another world. There really is something to be said about that “Good Ol’ Southern Hospitality”. I love it, and I never wanna leave it.

The Princess Has A New Castle

So, we finally made it. Just barely, but we’re here. We just barely got the truck loaded in time. We had to call in last minute reinforcements – Thanks so much to Dottie, Brian, and Joe. Thanks to the mail ego, and its inability to ask for directions, the truck driver was late picking up the cab. For the first time ever, the male ego paid off!
The ride down south was really nice, no traffic, and no real problems. Settlement went off without a hitch, and before we knew it, we had the keys to our new home. It was very exciting and a little scary all at once.
The truck was late getting here and we ended up waiting in an empty house for the majority of the day. When it was finally delivered, we started to realize that our rushed loading job did not pay off very well. About half of what was put into the truck was broken, and the other half was ruined by dirt and grease from the inside walls and floor of the truck. I had wanted new couches, and stuff, but not this way. As more and more of the truck was unloaded, my carpet went from white to some shade of ugly that I can’t even describe.
After days of scrubbing and cleaning, it finally started to look like a house. Things started to get put away, the kids were getting used to their new living arrangements, and I had begun to actually find stores and places to go – thanks to Andrea.
Now it’s home, and we love it.

Our Yard Sale Was A Success!

But there was one thing we just couldn't seem to get rid of...


Left Overs

Guess we'll have to keep her!

My Kids Poop On Me....

...Literally.
My daughter was happy and playing on the floor, my 7 year old was happily playing his Game Boy, and of course, there was distress coming from my 2 year old. I was trying to have a conversation with my mother about my trials that day, while my 2 year old(again, why is it always him??) was constantly interrupting me. "Libby pooped" he kept saying. Now this is nothing out of the ordinary, the pooping, and him telling me she pooped. He tells me about a hundred times a day that she pooped. He's never right, but he still tells me just as much. I was succeeding at ignoring him, until he shouted "Libby's in the toilet!". Again, he was wrong, but she was close to the bathroom door, so I ran over and scooped her up. Just then, I felt it. Warm pasty, smelly, yuckiness!! For the first time ever, my 2 year old was right, Libby did poop. A lot! It was everywhere. It was on the carpet, my clothes, her clothes, my arms, and even up the back of her head in her hair(how does poop travel so well?).
Now you would think that her diaper had never been changed, or it was completely full right? But it wasn't. It never ceases to amaze me how much poop a little baby can produce, and how much it can spread. I think there was only a small trace of it actually in the diaper. The rest seemed to have escaped somehow, and began to terrorize us like the Blob.
The baby was crying, Ethan was laughing, my 7 year old was freaked out, and I was feeling despair. Where do I even begin? If I don't get it off the carpet, then Ethan will surely track it or spread it. If I don't get it off of myself and the baby, it will continue to get on the floor and everything else....UGH!
Poop stinks! Literally and figuratively. Getting pooped on, stinks even worse!