Dear sweet infant, pampers-swadled, 8-month old baby Jesus.....

Thank you so much for, in your divine and unending mercy, allowing uneven hair-cutted, MaxFactor eye makeup wearing, weird lip-twitching Emo Adam to be in the bottom three on American Idol. I seriously think I pulled a muscle when I leaped from the couch in triumph. Sunny days are here again. Yes, you don't have to remind me that he was actually deemed safe and will live to sing/scare another week, I know. But, my lovelies, this is certainly a splendid step in the right direction.

Sunday Thanks

I am thankful for a gorgeous day that I didn't have to be stuck in an office for. I am thankful for backyard sprinklers, water guns, and bubble wands. I am thankful for father/son matching striped Polo's, and wet, just-combed-for-church little boy hair. I am thankful for shared bites of vanilla ice cream. I'm thankful for giving in to plaintive cries of "Can I have a pet Mamma, PWEASE?!" I am thankful for the two newest furry members of our family, gerbils Nemo, (the movie), and Ming-Ming (The Wonderpets); lovingly named by a two year old. I am thankful for a husband that still gives me the flutters (I have always adored watching him mow the yard.) I'm especially thankful that the aforementioned husband returned from his parents' to release the Muffin and I after he locked us in the backyard. (Yeah, he totally did.) I am thankful for today.

I love sloooooooooow Saturdays!

I don't have on any makeup, my hair is up in a messy bun, and my fingers are slightly sticky from the apple Lil' C and I just had as a snack. Heck, I haven't even showered today. And do you know what the grandest thing about all of the above is? I. DON'T. CARE. Not even a teeny-weeny tiny morsel of a bit. I feel great. The Muffin and I have had the day to ourselves, and it has been splendid. (No offense BD, you know we like you around most of the time.) I finished one book and started another, scored a near perfect cup of coffee while sharing Froot Loops with the kiddo, and -- well, you know, I haven't really done anything more productive than that. I did make some cute little bouquets to sit around the house this afternoon, so that's something. We have a gorgeous flowering bush in the backyard that smells divine, so I always try to take advantage of the blooms when I can.

Remember my cute flea market Sundae cups?

Now, on to getting the Muffin in the tub and into his jammies, taking time of course to read his library books about twenty times each ("Wet's wead about dose widdle monkeys jumpin' on 'da bed again. Pwease Mamma?"). I rented Slumdog Millionaire to watch tonight, and I fully intend upon having a (small) bowl of strawberry ice cream and a (large) glass of white wine as I enjoy the show.

Welcome to the world baby girl!

The Cupcake

9 lbs 5 oz

*April 24, 2009 - 8:35am

If one feels the need of something grand, something infinite, something that makes one feel aware of God, one need not go far to find it. I think that I see something deeper, more infinite, more eternal than the ocean in the expression of the eyes of a little baby when it wakes in the morning and coos or laughs because it sees the sun shining on its cradle.

----Vincent Van Gogh

Congrats to the Family S!! DaddyJ, Ames, and my fave Mini-Diva have welcomed a new member of their family. The Lil' Pink Cupcake made her way into the world at 8:35 am, and has been loved and snuggled on pretty much ever since. My favorite thing yesterday was that after I posted pictures of our first visit to meet her on my Facebook, another dear mommy 'Meant to Love' (check out her blog - she's one of us!) commented, "Oh no, you're too close - you're going to catch the fever! *Sigh* It is entirely too late for that my friend. The first time I held her, BabyDaddy took one look at me and I could see the fear flare up in his eyeballs. Walking out of the hospital, Lil' C said, 'Hey Mamma, I WIKE widdle babies. I WIKE 'dem!' I looked at BD with a Cheshire Cat grin. "Oh, don't you gang up on me like that. I don't think so!" The countdown has begun.



It sometimes happens, even in the best of families, that a baby is born. This is not necessarily cause for alarm. The important thing is to keep your wits about you and borrow some money.

----Elinor Goulding Smith

*UPDATE* C, you were totally right. I got so carried away! I have now changed the date. :)

Sunday Thanks

I am thankful for my snuggly purple chenille socks. Although bulky and unattractive, they keep my feet amazingly toasty. I am thankful for the Noggin channel. I am thankful for fabulous church nursery workers - my heart swelled up this morning when they met Lil' C at the door with huge smiles and hugs. I am thankful for sitting next to my other mom this morning during the worship service. I am thankful for Cracker Barrel coffee. I am thankful for Sunday afternoon naps on rainy days, and old worn out quilts. I am thankful for giggles and ranch dressing mustaches. I am thankful for today.

Dandelion Dances

Today, I danced in the dandelions with my son. We took off our shoes and socks, running out into the sunshine and chasing each other across the yard. "Bwow da fwo-wers Mama!" Lil' C screamed. "C'mon! Bwow da fwo-wers!" So we did. We took turns blowing dandelions up in the air, and then ran giggling through the falling petals. We counted them and then watched as they floated away. Then, I stepped in dog crap. (Yeah, bare feet remember?) That ended our Hallmark Mother's Day commercial.

After BD returned from his morning in the woods - he didn't get anything, thank goodness - we took the Muffin to the wildlife sanctuary, and then stopped by one of our local eateries for dinner. Not so good for GET OUT OF MY FAT JEANS - the restaurant fully abides by our popular southern truism: "If it ain't fried, it ain't food!" So, since I was good, and didn't have anything particularly terrible yesterday, we ordered some fried pickles. They were spa-LENDID. However, if you currently look at me from the side, you would assume that I am either about 4 months along, or have entirely too close a relationship with beer. Hey - at least I'm being honest. I guess this means that tomorrow is a rice pudding day. *GAG*

**UPDATE**

BabyDaddy has just informed me, after a disgruntled first reading of the below post, that the eyeballs are GLASS not plastic, as otherwise mentioned. Excuse-a-freakin' muah. So there you have it. The news of the day. It amazed me that the only part of that whole rant that garnered a response from him was that. No refuting his wacko obsession, or even trying to downplay the fact that he cavorts in the garage with animal body parts. No, he just wanted to make it clear that the eyeballs were glass, thankyouverymuch.

Dead Ducks Stink (Like, REAL bad.)

At this point, you are all familiar with the disturbing taxidermy hobby that BabyDaddy has taken up this past year. (Only to be surpassed in morbidity by operating a funeral home – but no offense to you good funeral directors out there.) He has recently decided that he has mastered the furry things, and so has moved on to the feathery things. An anonymous donor, (I think just anonymous to me, because BabyDaddy knows I would probably hunt them down like a dog and put the things under the floor mats of their car on a hot day), gave BD half a dozen lifeless duck (carcasses/bodies/cadavers?) for him to practice on, with the caveat that at least one must be mounted and returned for display. Have any of you ever smelled a duck? What about a dead one? Hmm? Yeah, well, count your lucky sparklin’ stars my friends. I can’t even describe it. It’s not like ‘hot dead’ that you all heard me complain about over the summer, or even ‘rotten food’ or ‘burned hair’, or ‘mildewed socks’. It’s like nothing I have ever smelled before, but suffice it to say, IT. IS. GROSS. I mean Yuck-O-Rama. I should have forced BD to sequester himself in the garage and duct-tape (ha- duck tape!) around the door when he is working on them. Ugh – My stomach flips over just thinking about it.

Moral of the story – Girls, never marry a man who likes to play with dead anythings. It usually signifies some sort of a deeper problem. Alas, for me, it is too late – I’ve already fallen madly in love with a man who brushes the cape of a dead deer with more attention than he pays to his own head. I am too far gone for recovery. I have to live with ‘hot dead’, finding animal hair in my brush, (Me: “Is this DEER hair in my brush?! Really?! DEER HAIR?!!!” BabyDaddy: “But I NEEDED a brush, I couldn’t FIND my other one…”), and the fact that every single time I walk into my garage I trip over plastic eyeballs and fake ear molds. The JOY. (*Sigh*)

I *heart* Jergens new Natural Glow Foam

Shameless Plug – I don’t know why the foam is better than the lotion, but IT. IS. Even BabyDaddy commented that I look “way hotter than normal”. Thanks. Umm…I think. I started using the foam on Wednesday, and by Easter Sunday/Sundress D-Day, I had a reasonable amount of what I thought was pretty natural color - except for the fact that I forgot to get darker mineral powder for my face, so it was still a bit pale. It still has the same self-tanner smell, (as I have already lamented to my dear Ames), but not as strong as other self-tanners. Being that I’m way too lazy and cheap to pay for the tanning bed, plus I like my skin cancer-free thankyouverymuch, I’ll take that.

So – Easter this year was a raging success. I got to hang out with the fam in God’s country, had a treasure hunt, egg hunt, and basket hunt, and got to eat like the true glutton I am. (I’m scared to even look at my Wii Fit. It will probably laugh at me when I try to weigh in.) I totally should have stopped after the fourth cheese cake bite…or the second helping of pasta salad…or..well, crap. Now I’m making myself feel really bad. Ah well, what’s done is done.

The boys had a great time hunting eggs - even though they lost interest about halfway through when they started having dandelion blowing contests. BabyDaddy and I were diving for the eggs like crazy people, and completely ignoring the dirty looks that were being shot at us by the other 3 and under parents. Come on! We're in it to win it! Second place is just the first loser you know. (Lil' C did win the prize for the most eggs in his age group, though *ahem* he did that all on his own....) After thoroughly cleaning house there, we headed back to Mom's for our treasure hunt. Brava' Mama' - it was splendid, as most of your brain concoctions are... She had hidden clues all over the farm, and BD and I hoofed it while the boys were chauffeured around in the all-terrain Mule. In the midst of our treasure hunting, we ended up at the river, where we passed our favorite 'swanging vine'. For those of ya'll that didn't have the God-given blessing of being brought up in the country, you might not have had the opportunity to take a ride on a swangin' vine. :) It is basically just that - a large grape vine that has so firmly entwined itself in a tree - preferably on a steep bank or overlooking a river or creek - that you can launch yourself into space. Our vine has been a source of great pleasure. Grampa J warned us that perhaps we should skip our air time because the vine had probably rotted over the long winter and with the recent heavy rains. "Nah!" I interjected, throwing my hands on my hips, "I'm sure it's fine!" "Yeah," Mom chimed in. "I just took a ride on it last week. It was plenty steady..." We took a quick vote and decided BabyDaddy should get the honor of the first swing. (Translation -- be the guinea pig.) Sure enough, he had no further started his swing out over the bank when we heard a suspicious popping noise. A collective gasp went up from our little group as we saw the vine completely pull away from the tree, and BD plummet toward the ground. It's all right now ya'll - take your hand off your heart and take a breath - he's just fine. Nothin' that will leave a scar. :)

We got up with the chickens Sunday morning and drove over to our church for Sunrise Service. I truly think that out of all the church experiences I have, Sunrise Service is one of the times each year when I feel closest to God. We always have it outside, weather permitting, and everyone wears sweats and brings quilts to sit on and wrap up in. Someone always sets up three life-sized crosses on our little hill, and we sing hymns as the sun comes up behind them. Grampa always delivers a little sermon about the women going to the tomb of Jesus and hearing the news that would change our world forever. It is always a magnificent moment for me. After the service, we have breakfast together, and then everyone goes home to get spruced up for the main worship service.

The MEAL was held at my Nanny's house, as usual. We ate, talked, laughed, and then headed outside to fly our kites. The day was perfect - with just the right amount of wind, our kites streaked into the sky - well, everyone's but mine that is, but then, that's a tradition all it's own. Every year I fight for the kite that I think is best, and every year, everyone laughs as I run through the field, begging my kite to fly as it spirals in a crazy dance before diving dramatically to the ground. Just like being at sunrise service brings me closer to God, I think flying kites with my family brings me closer to my brother. I swear, I can feel him as the sun shines down on the faces of my family. It's like he's standing next to me, talking trash as I try to get my kite in the air. (I totally would have punched him in the arm - I'm sure he would have just smiled his crooked smile and talked some more smack.) The highlight of the afternoon was seeing my Uncle Doc drive through the gate into the field with Lil'C in his lap. It was the Muffin's first time driving a tractor and he was so excited! We all clapped and cheered as they made laps around us, Lil' C happily squealing, "Hi Mommy! Hi! I drive track-tor!" Good times, good times. Now, it's back to the grind, with no more state holidays on the horizon until Memorial Day in May. *Sniff*

The Reason

The Easter Bunny only visits good boys and girls (BabyDady, this means YOU!)

I think the above is quite possibly the scariest thing I have ever seen. I found it staring up at me from the crack of the couch, (where all things inevitably end up in our house) and almost screamed. Lil' C thought it was the grandest thing in the world. "I LOVE my scho-co-late Easter Bunny...Look Mommy, two eyes!" *CRUNCH* "Oooh, now one eye....*CHOMP* Where his feet mommy? They in my tummy!!" Isn't he just the sweetest?

Boy, we are ready for Easter. We have been faithfully practicing our egg-hunting skills, bribing with promises of toys brought by the Easter Bunny, and dying eggs. We'll be headed home to God's Country in the morning to enjoy the weekend, complete with a treasure hunt Mom has planned for everyone to find their Easter baskets, sunrise service, church, and a MEAL. There are several MEALS in my family each year -- the all caps version is reserved for the grandest of those including, but certainly not limited to: Christmas, Easter, and Thanksgiving. In order to be classified as a MEAL, there must be at least a dozen people, dishes must include a vat of mashed potatoes, broccoli casserole, cranberry sauce, at least three kinds of corn, 2-3 pies and/or cakes, and a layered salad, (among other things of course). There is always a family activity - Easter Kite Flying is my favorite - and the day always concludes with every single man present falling asleep on the various couches, recliners, or sofas. I love MEALS. And we're quite excited about this little treasure hunt Mom has cooked up for us (yes, before you ask, both BabyDaddy and I still get Easter baskets, but only if we hold up our hands, scout's honor style, and proclaim our belief in the Easter Bunny for Mom each year). Even though BD secretly revels in the lovely surprises Mom always dreams up for us, he plays tough and ribs Mom about being a cheese ball. One of these days, a cheese ball is going to show up in his basket or Christmas stocking, and he'll be sorry...

I know I've kept this short and sweet, but honestly, I just did my Wii Fit for 40 minutes (GET OUT OF MY FAT JEANS UPDATE: I'm down another two pounds -- I'm starting to notice a difference!), my legs hurt, it's raining outside, and I'm feeling like falling into bed, so I think I will. I hope ya'll have a splendid Easter - enjoy your families, go to a worship service, and most of all, remember to think about the real reason we have this holiday. We are all here because of the grace and generosity of the Giver, so don't forget to thank him for it!

A wise man once said....

I contend that for a nation to try to tax itself into prosperity is like a man standing in a bucket and trying to lift himself up by the handle.

-- Winston Churchill

Excerpt

“Reaching into the bag at her side, she pulled out her journal and stared down at it, tracing the leather pattern on the cover. It was almost finished now. She’d written it all down, or as much as she could remember, and it had helped her as much as he’d hoped it would someday help her kids. She opened to the page where she’d left off and began to write.

That’s the funny thing about writing your life story. You start out
trying to remember dates and times and names. You think it’s about facts,
your life, that what you’ll look back on and remember are the successes and
failures, the time line of your youth and middle age, but that isn’t it at
all. Love. Family. Laughter. That’s what I remember when
it’s all said
and done. For so much of my life I thought I didn’t do
enough or want
enough. I guess I can be forgiven my stupidity. I was
young. I want my
children to know how proud I am of them, and how proud I
am of me. We
were
everything we needed – you and Daddy and I. I had
everything I ever
wanted.
Love.
That’s what we remember.

She closed the journal. There was nothing more to say."

The Real Stars

Create your own FACEinHOLE

Pass the Advil -- and some coffee...

My, my, how our addictions seize us. My particular poison is coffee. Lots, and lots of coffee. I have always loved the smell of it - my dad used to make a pot every morning - but I detested the taste of it. That all changed when it was the 'cool' thing to do in college. (Thank God I went to a Baptist college - I'm sure I would have ended up far worse if huffing paint or snorting crack were the 'in' things...) I remember feeling so grown up taking my Starbucks latte into the library for my first group study session. It tasted awful and bitter, and made me want to gag, but as I looked around the circle I noticed that everyone else was sipping some sort of coffee concoction in an especially sophisticated manner. When in Rome you know... And so it began. After college, it became more of a social thing - conversations around the coffee machine at work or an excuse to meet up with old friends. I never realized how much I had begun to depend on my daily fix until I got knocked up with the bebe'. Being the stereotypical scared of anything and everything first timer, I nixed the coffee straight away. There weren't really any conclusive studies showing that coffee/caffeine was harmful unless you were just blasting yourself with it, but one never can be too sure. Talk about a whammy. Lucky for me, I had zero morning sickness, which gave me plenty of energy to deal with ear splitting headaches and the shakes from my caffeine withdrawals. Fast forward to today -- Knowing how important my fix is, I make sure that I am well-stocked at work. I was running a little low on Thursday, (we have our own coffee makers in our offices - it's nice because I don't have to share, and I can make it how I want, but not so nice because it's on my dollar), so Friday morning I brought my container from home. In the mad 'it's-four-thirty-on-Friday-please-God-get-me-out-of-here' rush, I left my coffee in my desk drawer. This morning I woke up, went to the cabinet, and blearily reached for my coffee mug. I put a filter in the coffee maker, filled it with water, and .......CRAP. I did okay for the better part of the morning, and then the headache started. Thankfully, the Muffin was a complete angel today. BD was off saving the world this morning, and I really didn't want to go through the trauma that surely awaited me if I tried to brave Wal-Mart with Lil' C by myself. I had to take back a Redbox movie anyway, so we loaded up and headed out to McD's. I returned my movie and moved toward the drive through lane, when I realized that apparently everyone wanted a Big Mac at the same time. A cup of coffee was not worth waiting an hour for, and besides, Lil' C was screaming that he 'DID NOT WANT NUGGETS, MA, WANT PIZZA. PIZZA OKAY MOMMY? OKAY?!" I just squinted my eyes and drove home to make him a pizza. So here I am, feeling like someone is steam rolling the upper half of my spinal cord and jackhammering the front quadrant of my brain, and wishing I had just waited the hour at the McDonald's drive through........

In other, happier and less pain-ridden news, I booked our beach house today! We have been talking about planning our vacation for weeks, and finally settled on Kiawah Island, which is a tiny haven just off the coast of South Carolina. I am so excited, and even though we have to wait until September, (summer is the busiest time at my job, so it was the earliest I could sneak away), I have already started my packing list. I can't wait to be back at the beach!

Before I go try to dig some Excedrin out of my closet, I had to share some of the cute things I found at our local flea market. I love digging around that place!

A new banner for our front door.

I found these little sundae cups for $1 each! I'm using them as Easter decorations.