It's Allayna's Birthday ya'll!!!
Happy Birthday Allayna!!!!
Here are some pictures from our vacation!!!!
Gratuitous walking on the beach holding hands shot.
My sweet boy on the beach.
The BEANS!!!
Harrison doesn't look too happy, but that's because his sweet sensitive baby skin and the salt water and sand don't really agree with one another!!
My guy has style.
My cute Hubby at dinner.
Look at this cute little group of people!
Here's my little Lincoln
Chris took our little family down to the boardwalk.
We went to the Gay Dolphin... there is a ridiculous amount of stuff in that store.
This is scary... Harrison and Chris playing an arcade game together.
Lincoln was less than impressed.
It is only Tuesday, but I'm feeling sad about coming home already.
I guess it wouldn't be called vacation if I didn't have have to come back eventually. I will try to savor every moment. More pictures coming soon.
"Let's just call a peach a peach"?
I had never heard this expression before 10 or so days ago. I knew what it meant, but thought it was funny, because who would call a peach anything but a peach? Is this a common expression? I need to know. The phrase comes from my dear fiend Joanna. Joanna has other catchphrases like, "It's not a big of a deal." So as you cn see I don't trust her 100% in this arena.
I imagine the phrase would go something like this, "Let's just call it what it is." or "Let's just call poop, a poop. It is what it is." or "Let's call a roach a roach." Sometimes people try to make bad/gross things not so bad/gross by calling them a different name.
This is the real reason for this post.
Ack!!!! One of these crawled up my pants while we were on the pier yesterday evening. My husband called it a palmetto bug, my eyes called it a cockroach. I felt some relief, because I thought... "Hey it's just a palmetto bug, nothing too bad." Of course I get back to the beach house and type "palmetto bug" into the google search bar and lo and behold... IT'S A ROACH!!!! UGHHH. So to my dear husband "Let's just call a roach a roach." I'm not falling for that palmetto bug thing again.
It's Dwarfs not Dwarves I've checked a couple times.
Ok, so I said I would gather up some vacation memories.
In honor of our traveling day I will tell you about our traveling days we've had in the past. You will all want to come on vacation with us from now on.
Our parents would wrap gifts and put them in our trunk. If we were good we would get a gift to open for our next leg of our journey. It would usually be things like coloring books, crayons, dolls, stuff like that. But I remember one year specifically. My mom got us Snow White and the Seven Dwarfs. It was so cool and exciting. This is the sad part. I can't remember if we got all the dwarfs or if Allison got something different. I would imagine I would remember only one of us having the princess and the other being very disappointed. This is how it would look if we hadn't both gotten a doll.
"Can we open a gift now?"
"Sure... let's look in the trunk."
We each pull out a gift get back in the car.
One of us beats the first one in opening and we peer over to see a sparkly dress on a beautiful princess we start ripping at the paper wildly to find.....!!!!
A wrinkly old man with a gray beard, who is short in stature and wearing sack cloth pants. Just what I ALLLLLWAAAYS wanted!
I'm sure I would remember how this went.... unless I was the one who opened Snow White. In that case who cares... EVEN SCHMEVEN.
I have been a bit overwhelmed lately. Nothing serious, but have had a hard time trying to concentrate on writing a blog. These are my thoughts for the day, it is easier to write what I am thinking randomly instead of trying to make any sense of it.
1.) I am cheap!!! Some of you probably know this, but I should have my picture next to the word "frugal" in the dictionary. I have been squeezing my poor big baby into tiny jeans because I paid full price for them. From what I understand... some people buy things full price and never wear them then donate them to Goodwill. I am not one of these people. I buy things years in advance to save myself money. It's a problem and my babies rolls have been speaking to me, I need to relax. I will pay $5.49 for a combo meal, but I pay $7.00 for a pair of jeans and have a heart attack! There is something wrong with me.
2.) I like that people notice I am trying to lose weight, but then I also think, "Well, was I looking fat last time you saw me, because it must've been an obvious change for you to comment." Then I think I should be proud of my tiny accomplishment and stop over-analyzing everything. When people say I look good and were curious if I've lost weight, my response should be, "Yes, I have been losing weight, thank you for noticing." I will work on this.
3.) Also, I am tired of racist, sexist, nasty jokes. Even when it comes from people I love. I can't take it.... It is... uh... I will stop there.
4.) I can't wait for vacation. I will have to uncover some long lost vacation pictures in celebration of Friday when we leave for South Carolina.
Here is one of Allison, Allayna, and I. Man, I was a tan kid.
Yesterday I got to take pictures of sweet Harper Jane. She and her mommy came into town this weekend to visit the many new babies who have arrived over the summer of '09. I was honored when Harper's mommy, Elaine, asked me to take pictures of her! I brought Lincoln along for the ride. (He was not nearly as cooperative as Harper!)
Isn't she the cutest little girl!? She made it nearly impossible to take a bad picture.
This guy was not nearly as cooperative, but I love his little face.
After Harper pooped out from all of the picture taking.....
My wonderful mentor, Kelly, and I snapped some ""nudey booty" shots of baby Lincoln.
Sorry, I couldn't resist.
Elaine, thank you for the opportunity to take some cute pictures of your baby girl.
Kelly, thank you for coming with us. I am much more confident when you are around!
Harper and Lincoln, Thanks for being super cute!
This is a memory from the school memories I asked for a while back. It was written by my lovely mother, who also is a lovely cusser.
As an 8 year old third grader I had what was possibly the worst teacher in the universe, Sister Carol Ann. She was just an unhappy person. Ted would say that she needed "the cure" but that is beside the point. I recall that Sister didn't much like me. I don't know, perhaps I was immature. One day in particular, I had to urinate "like a race horse" and I raised my hand to be excused. Now, Sister saw that my hand was raised and in fact looked at me many times but she refused to call on me. I swear that this went on for at least 30 minutes. She just would not call on me. I stared, I willed her to say my name, my arm was cramped and the staring produced a weird effect of rings around sister's entire body. Finally......I let loose. All over the floor. There was urine everywhere. Sister was mad! Like it was my fault! No, she did not like me. That is probably why another time when I was getting something out of my desk and not paying attention to her that she said, "Glandorf, you jackass!" I swear to you that this profanity did indeed come out of the precious sister's mouth and smacked me in my 8 year old psyche forever! I am sure that sister smacked me with a paddle too but these 2 memories have scarred me for life and I shall never forget them.
I will see if i can get a photo of sister and/or a 3rd grade photo of me.
Mom
Mom, you jackass, where's the picture!? You never sent it. I'm disappointed.
Why would someone think this is ok?In case you didn't feel like clicking it, it is an article about a stranger spanking a toddler at a local store.
The insane thing is.... people are commenting in support of the spanker! This makes me so angry. Just to let you all know... if you grab my child and spank him... I'm going to grab you and spank your face.
As a mother of two young children I know (Oh, how I know!) they can be annoying, loud, and bad. In public, I do not respond to the craziness that my two year old unleashes, other than hightailing it out of the store or firmly speaking to him. If I ever chose to spank my son in public I would probably have ten people call the police on me for disciplining him, if I don't publicly discipline him someone is going to smack him? I am sure this is a rarity but it is the second such story I have heard in the past month. (A stranger smacked a child in the face for screaming in Walmart.)
What ever happened to a little compassion for a mother who has a hard time getting anything done in a timely manner because her children will not cooperate? I hope I do not turn into a crazy old lady who gives evil stares to young mothers. I get those looks and it doesn't help me at all, but I am often relieved by a helpful stranger who is willing to smile (or even lend a helping hand) because she knows even good moms and good kids have bad days.
We went to the Harvest Home Fair on Sunday afternoon and had a good time. Don't worry I didn't let any strangers watch my baby this time!
There is so much to be seen!
There were horses. The barrel racing was pretty cool. Harrison would have stayed here all day if he could have.
Then there was a tent full of farm animals. There were goats, sheep, cows, rabbits, the biggest pig I've ever seen, baby chicks, but I couldn't tell what this animal is.... 
A llama or an alpaca? Are they the same thing? Can anyone tell me what this is?
Here are some more pics of us roaming.
And Grandma won an honorable mention in the flower show!
Then it was time to go, and Harrison wasn't the only one who was sad. This kid was screaming like a maniac. So what would normal people do? Try to help the mom by distracting the child. Or tell a funny joke. What do I do? Take a picture of him.
I felt his pain... I think he was babbling something like.... "I can't believe that cost $5.00! In this economy!?! I so did not get my moneys worth."
Last night I went to the Harvest Home parade. It was to be Harrison's first parade and I was pretty excited. We went to the zoo earlier in the day and I had just enough time to run home to grab my camera. I ran in and grabbed my camera and ran back out to the car. I called my mom and told her I was going to pick her and my dad up in minutes.
I picked up Mom and Dad, then we headed up to Cheviot for the parade. We had to drop my mom off at a float she was riding in during the procession. Then it was time to find a parking space. This is a nightmare on the narrow roads of Cheviot, especially driving my Expedition. We finally parked and got the kids out of the car and into the stroller. We found our seats and got cozy. Well almost.... Lincoln spit up all over himself so I ran back to the car to grab him a new outfit. I left my little baby in the arms of a stranger that I had met just 5 minutes before named Gerri who was standing near my father, who was taking care of Harrison. The woman seemed normal enough and my dad was practically right next to her so this seemed fine. (I know, I am crazy.) I informed my dad of the goings on and ran off to grab the new outfit. When I returned a minute or so later I couldn't spot my dad (normally an easy task considering he is 6 ft 4 in. tall) I freaked a bit. Then I spotted the woman cuddling Lincoln and looking after Harrison. My dad must have trusted this woman as well because he left her in charge of Harrison too! (I know, he's crazy) Luckily, for both of us, there are still good people in this world and both babies were still exactly where we left them. Okay, so after you all pick your jaws off the floor from being shocked by my idiocy we'll get back to the story.
Okay are your jaws back in place? Let's continue.
The parade was starting so I got adjusted in my chair with one baby in my lap the other next to me in the stroller and I saw my mom was in the third or fourth vehicle in the parade line-up. I had to quickly grab my camera and get the lens cap off. I turn the camera on. (My friend Gerri offers to hold my baby so I can take a picture of my mom. My mom has also met Gerri and trusts her and left her with her bank account information and social security number so why not let her hold the baby one more time.) I snap a wonderful picture of my mom and look down to check it in the screen of my camera and see it is not saved. I check to see why and in a classic "forgetful" moment realize I forgot my memory card! AGHhhHHHHhh! So frustrated!
So I reclaim my baby and sit and pout because I have nothing to blog about tomorrow. Maybe I will remember something funny to blog about. No, nothing. Now what will I do. I am pretty sure I am never gonna blog again because I am so mad at myself for forgetting my memory card. I QUIT!!! Oh wait.... did I just write a blog? Oh..... well...ummmm maybe I did think of something to write about.
And all is right in the world.
My friend Carrie is due any day now. My friend Erin had a baby less than 24 hours ago. This makes me recall how I felt the days leading up to the birth of my youngest son who is just 4 1/2 months old now. Unlike Carrie and Erin, I was completely spent and told everyone about it. I would not shut up about having my baby as soon as possible so I could be done being pregnant. I was ready to drop the nearly 50 pounds I had gained. My legs, hips, and back hurt constantly and anyone around me knew it.
I have not heard Carrie do much complaining at all. She is not in a rush, does not babble on and on about herself and her pregnancy, (Even when people are trying to get her to.) and has not complained much about discomfort. (That I have heard. Ryan, her husband, may tell a different tale.)
With just weeks/days to go I was letting everyone know about the hard work I had put in so far and that I had no plans to do this pregnancy thing again anytime in the near future. I would say things to my husband, Chris, like "Don't let me forget how I felt at this point." "If you ever hear me tell someone I enjoyed pregnancy, tell me and them. what a liar I am."
The sad part is, I took the easy way out, I had my epidural and did not take on the full experience. Erin just had a completely unmedicated birth and her baby came out sunny side up, which I hear is very painful, but everything went great! She fought through it and did not give in, even when it got tough. Carrie plans to have a natural birth as well and I am confident that she can do it. I am proud of them for being strong enough to do natural births and admire their courage. I do not plan on getting pregnant again, but if I do I will try to remember to complain less and enjoy the experience for what it is.
P.S. I think this guy is ready to be a dad. (Ryan hangin' with the kids.)
The lady of many talents. My mom is very skilled in many ways.
I've seen her:
Fix/replace her own brakes on her car.
Fix many toilet problems.
Update run down homes.
Lay her own patio.
Coach many sports teams including soccer and softball. She left basketball to my dad.
Create skits from scratch for church.
Make costumes galore, and they were good. Seriously.
Make my sisters' and my holiday dresses.
Nap like she'll never nap again. Almost daily.
Cut/Color many many people's hair.
I couldn't possibly name them all.
One skill that I liked the most, was the costume making. Here's one example.
I think these are pretty pro.
She also made a costume for:
My 8th grade play, when I was the Tinman.
Vacation Bible School, which at a later date aided in me getting me my first job. (A story for another day.)
Many for church skits. One was so funny it made a dear friend pee her pants.
So, I was thinking, she should make Harrison a Halloween costume this year. What should she make? Any ideas?
Meet one of my many high school crushes. This is Dan. He is a super cute and funny guy that was always a joy to be around. He lived right down the street from my best friend in high school. We would walk down to his house and hang out whenever we felt like it. I always thought he was cute and date-able until the night this pic was taken.
This was taken the night of my Junior Valentine's Day dance! We went to Burger King before hand because we were really classy. We wore our King hats and laughed our butts off. We also showed up at the dance for a bit, but, of course, there were parties that night, too. So we didn't stay the whole time. We left the dance in search of a party. We found a big party and did regrettable things like drinking and such, no details provided because I am still to embarrassed to admit it to the entire internet. (I do remember after my date's parents found out about our night, we weren't allowed to hang out anymore.) But while we were living out our teenage angst that evening. Dan was being more lovey-dovey than normal and saying very weird/funny things. All of the sudden, out of nowhere, he blurted out, "Can I kiss you?"
I suppose to some people that would be the proper way to go about it, but I just laughed and declined. Dan was cute enough to kiss, for sure. But with that blurb and the awkward moment, I had to refuse. If he wouldn't have asked I probably would've have kissed him, maybe even more than once, but the damage was done. In my mind, my funny friend was no longer date-able, he was just that, my "funny friend", who asked my permission to kiss me.
I don't think it was more than a month or two later that Dan came out of the closet to all of our friends. It made me wonder if I should have kissed him? Maybe I was his going to be his last experiment to test and see if his suspicions were true? Maybe he was drunk when he asked me and he doesn't even remember it? Maybe he was so crushed by my rejection he turned to a life of homosexuality? HAHA Probably not!
Oh, cute Dan and all other cute boys all over the world. If you have to ask if you can kiss a girl (or boy) your chances might not be good. Dan was the ONLY boy who ever asked permission to kiss me and probably the only boy who got totally shot down.
I've mentioned my Grandma Alice more than once today. I just keep thinking about her sweet little face and voice. Sometimes I joke on here about having a bad memory, the truth is in some ways I am a little bit afraid of my bad memory. My Grandma had Alzheimer's Disease and Dimentia for the last 6 or so years. It came on fairly slowly, but I am sure if we looked back we could catch some of the signs leading up to her going to the "dungeon" as she would call it AKA the nursing home.
She was so funny all the time and sweet to boot! She had 6 children and (I lost track maybe) 27 Grandchildren and only Jesus knows how many great-grandchildren and I think we all felt extra loved by her. She would whisper in our ears things like:
"Don't tell anyone I said this, but you're the best one."
"I love you the most, shhhhhh."
"You are my sweet little Manderea" -That was probably only to me.
She also would say/do very funny things. We had something called Girl's Night and eventually it wasn't just girls the boys joined in too! We would get together every week and we would play "dice" and Grandma would cook for us. We would laugh at all the cute and funny things Grandma would say. She would roll the dice and say, "Gooooo Me!" (I'm just smiling, thinking about how much fun we had.)
One time on Girl's Night we went over and Grandma took us outside to show us her garbage can. She had decided to burn all of her bills and receipts and other things normal people would throw away or shred. She forgot one important thing, plastic garbage cans probably won't work the same way as her metal cans. There was her can, bended and melted, and there was Grandma looking just as defeated as her trash can. We all smiled and then giggled and then laughed until we cried, including Grandma.
The FIRST Girl's Night Grandma sat around telling us love stories about her and Grandpa. The LAST Girl's Night we had, we were sitting around telling Grandma love stories about her and Grandpa. I miss her dearly. The laughs and the whispers in our ears (And I think Ryan got licked on the ear once, too.) The sitting around telling stories and her expired candy and cheese. Her sweet giggles and her bracelets bangling. Even singing to her in her last few days with our family by her side and her faint voice while trying to sing along. I miss those things, a lot.
