Sunday Thanks

I am thankful for my son's sweet, toothy smile. Even if it means he has just painted the kitchen floor with his PB&J. I am thankful for a day at the state fair with my family. I am thankful for the Advil for my legs, the ice packs for my head, and the coffee for my brain on the day after a long day at the state fair with family. I am thankful for a BabyDaddy that still holds my hand....and holds my hair back when I feel like I'm gonna barf up that second corn dog after disembarking from very ill-timed roller coaster ride. (I'm also thankful that I actually held it all down -- Meggie: 1 Gag Reflex: 0) I am thankful for lemon shake-ups, (and deep-fried Snickers bars), roasted corn, (and frozen bananas), chocolate covered strawberries on a stick, (and ice cream in waffle cones) and powdered sugar on everything. I am most assuredly thankful for roomy pants. I am thankful for expensive games on the Midway with cheap prizes. (Who knew an inflatable pool, kiddie fishing rod, fake sharks, and $10 bucks could get you one super-cool plastic ninja sword?!) I am thankful for the innocent joy that only a funnel cake can bring. I am thankful for being poked awake at 3am this morning....

Muffin: "Hey. Hey! Hey Mom!"

*Feeling a small finger gently attempt prying open my eyelids.*

Me (very groggily): Ummm. 'Yes?'

Muffin: "Can we go back?"

Me: 'Back where baby?'

Muffin: "Back to 'dat fair."

Me: 'What does the number on the clock say?'

Muffin: "Ummm...Es says, 'phree, one, one."

Me: "Ask me again when it says eight, zero, zero."

Muffin: 'Kay Mom. Wuv you. See you in 'da mornin' time...'

:)

Fairs are good. I am thankful for fairs. I am thankful for today.

My Commandments

1) Thou shalt not eat a bologna and tomato sandwich in the car while wearing a winter white shirt. (Thou shalt also always wear a camisole under said winter white shirts if they have a tendency to be see-through).


2) Thou shalt never, EVER, forget thy umbrella on a rainy, humid, southern afternoon. (Especially when thou hast a hair type of “wavy”, aka ‘one-drop-of-persipitation-turns-your-sleek-curls-into-a-sight-impairing-nest-of-frizz’.) If thou dost forget thy umbrella, thou should then call in sick for the rest of the day.


3) Thou shalt not permit thy offspring to pee in the grass. It gives them the thumbs up that it’s perfectly acceptable to pee on any grass. Like the grass around your neighbor’s mailbox. Or the grass by the swings at the park. Or the grass in front of McDonald’s.


4) Thou shalt not go clothes shopping after eating at a buffet. (Thou shalt also not consider squeezing into a pair of jeans while lying on the floor of the dressing rooms, holding your breath, and asking thy two-year-old to stand on thy tummy. This is not considered “a good fit”.)


5) Thou shalt not allow thy child to sleep in the ‘grown up’ bed, as he will never leave.


6) Thou shalt not laugh at thy husband when he puts his underwear on his head and dances in front of thy child. Like peeing in the grass, this condones ‘underwear head’ as being acceptable conduct. Thy child WILL take the extra underwear thou keepest in his backpack and put it on his head in public places.


7) Thou shalt not count two jumping jacks as ‘working out’. This will NOT cancel out the three Oreos thou hast just consumed, although it may irrationally make thou feel better. Now THREE jumping jacks on the other hand….


8) Thou shalt not attempt to drive on the Interstate in 2nd gear. Yes, there IS a difference. Thy car engine is NOT supposed to sound that way.


9) Thou shalt not allow thy Baby Daddy to feed thy child Kettle Corn, Pringles, and a grape Popsicle and call this “lunch”.


10) Thou shalt not procrastinate. Unfortunately, thy plates will not scrape the day-old corndog and congealed ketchup from themselves, thy husband’s dirty socks will not march to the washing machine, and thy gerbils will not clean up their own poop.

Sunday Thanks

I am thankful for Saturday road trips. I am thankful for the Muffin being potty-trained, even if that means that we have to stop 4,897 times in a one-hour time span. Apparently, peeing in a public restroom has become a bit of a novelty for the kiddo. This morning, we hit Cracker Barrel after church, (I could feel Mama's Pancake Breakfast congealing into cellulite on my thighs...), and BabyDaddy drew the short straw to take the Muffin to the bathroom. They had been gone about 10 or 15 minutes, and I was just about to go send in some recon to figure out what the heck was going on, when BD saunters out, a frantically sobbing Muffin thrown over his shoulder. "I wanna go pee again Mommy! I wike 'dat potty! I wealllly wike it!" BD said that they were playing some twangy country music in there, and the Muffin was bobbing his little head while sitting on the toilet. "Dis music is good Daddy! Watch me, I can dance and pee pee too! Who 'dis singin'? (Dolly Pardon) "Oh, Do-wy? I WIKE 'dis Do-wy!" You get the picture. Apparently, BD had to pry his little fingers off of the stall door in order to drag him back to the table. The joy of bodily functions. I am thankful for a great day at church - BD and I taught our very first Sunday School class today, can you believe it? At first, he tried to be all manly and nonchalant about the whole thing. That didn't last long. I caught him at the art table after our Bible Story debating the strong points of compound versus long bow, and discussing who harvested the biggest buck last year, with one (very opinionated) five-year-old. I was very proud of him. I am also thankful that the Muffin seems to have completely made himself at home in his class -- I saw him running down the hall past my room with his teacher, and was thinking, "Oh crap, once he sees me in here, he'll throw a fit to come in..." Instead, he just waved as he flew by, "Oh HEY Mom! Just need to pee-pee. I'll see you WAY-ter kay?!!!" And that was that. I am thankful that we all got to attend a super-cool 'spy' birthday party for my nephew - even though he Muffin hadn't had a nap and was quite cranky, on top of trying to commandeer all the birthday presents. I am thankful for a BD that will volunteer to brave Wal-Mart for our weekly grocery run, because I simply want to stay right here in my pajamas on the couch. I am thankful for today.

Quoteable Quote

I had this book recommended to me, and I'm excited to finally get around to it! It promises to be light, fun, and chock-full-of-southern-wit. The very first sentence is as follows, (sorry for the language), and definitely hooked my attention:

"Ya'll know how some people are born to Greatness? Well, Bobbie Faye Sumrall woke up one mornin', kicked Greatness in the teeth, kneed it in the balls, took it hostage, and it's been beggin' for mercy ever since."

----Quote take from a former Louisiana mayor after Bobbie Faye accidentally ran her car into his office, knocking pages of fraud evidence into the street, which helped land him in Federal prison.

Everything in Moderation...

While reading the latest issue of Parents, I found myself wondering, really wondering, if people follow this stuff. "Edamame is Excellent!" (I had to google edamame- it's a baby soybean if you were wondering yourself; looks a little bit like a stunted pea.) "You're Not a Good Mother unless you purchase these phthalate and BPA free baby bottles - only $24.99 each!" or perhaps "Your toddler isn't engaged unless they are playing on a custom CedarWorks play set!" Now, to be fair, I do usually really enjoy Parents, and they do have a lot of good suggestions and useful information (like Mommy's read Parents for the news stories -- sort of like dudes read Playboy or Maxim for the articles -- Mommy's are oogling the eye candy too. Luxury cribs, designer baby rompers, and glam kid bedrooms. Oh My!) But really. I do normally like the magazine. This time, I decided that just for chucks, I'd take a gander at one of these recommended 'wonder' swing/play sets. My jaw dropped upon seeing the first page, (go ahead, take a gander yourself! http://www.cedarworks.com/). Then I just got crazy. So, for your viewing (and my venting) pleasure, I have self-nominated the following items for the Muffin's Christmas list this year:

Vintage look 'Baby Dior' tee -- $250. (Wouldn't want to let him eat spaghetti wearing that! Or cherry Popsicle, or chocolate pudding, or a corn dog. Hmmm, maybe we could just frame it and hang it in his bedroom....)

Custom-built Cedar Works Play set -- Um, they didn't give a price. Ya'll know THAT'S never a good sign. BabyDaddy and I have negotiated on this one and decided that we might make that far gazebo a little smaller, or possibly eliminate the rock climbing wall - much more understated that way. Plus, then we could actually have a square foot or two of actual ground space left. Maybe enough to fit a yard chair at least...

Hot-rod Kidz Luxury Ride On -- $18,995. Because every little boy should have a chromed-out, leather interior-ed mean machine eh? Of course, this means I don't get a new car for the next ten years. Gee, I hope the Corolla can get another three hundred thousand miles...

Lilliput Classic Bungalow -- $9,995. Now I know the Muffin is a boy, but you do realize that 'gender-neutral play' is all the rage these days, yes? BD thought the above was a little girly, (even though I fell in love with the indoor stair case and mini-loft), so I thought we'd go more in this direction:

The description, (again with the non-existent price list), for this little slice of the good life was

"This beautiful replica of the family’s 100+ year old home comes complete with
French doors, interior crown molding and chair rail, wainscoting, air
conditioning, two slides, rock climbing wall, sandbox, and swings. Childhood
sure is sweet!"

I'm thinking, "You had me at 'air conditioning'...." The more I looked at this stuff, the madder I got. People had enough money to buy this crap? Why don't I have enough money to buy this crap? But then I thought about it and realized that these kids were the unlucky ones. These kids, on their bajillion thread-count sheets in their Pottery Barn catalog rooms that drive to the guest house in their miniature replica hot rods actually might be getting the short end of the proverbial stick. Why? Because I can guarantee that they'll probably never know the joy of imagination. What's to imagine in a world like that? They probably aren't allowed the processed sugar found in Popsicles, they don't know how to find cloud animals in the sky, and they would never dream of splashing through a mud puddle just to see how dirty they can get. Their nannies would probably scream. So it's okay that most of the time, my kid is in hand-me-downs or outfits from our local Kohl's or Wal-Mart. It's okay that we go to the park to play on the giant mega-play sets instead of buying one for our own. (Heck - it's free!) It's okay that we make spy glasses out of toilet paper rolls and funny disguises out of pipe cleaners. It's good to be in the middle. Enough to survive and splurge every now and then, but not enough to forget how to be grateful. Blast, I guess we won't be getting that mammoth swing set after all. But, I'm sure the Muffin will be just fine without it. In fact, he'll probably be better without it. ***Brushing hands and stepping off soapbox***

Sunday Thanks

I am thankful for overstock Egyptian Cotton sheets purchased for a ridiculously low price. I am thankful for Spider Man band-aids, who relieve pain, halt tears, and generally calm panic, while providing a fashionable alternative to the oh-so-blase' nude color bandages, that do none of the above. I am thankful that the 'People-Who-Stuff-Dead-Things' Convention is over, and BabyDaddy has returned to the family circle. I am thankful for video games, and the little clogging/tap dance jazz step that the Muffin does when he gets really excited while playing them. I am thankful for "C-isms"; little statements or remarks from the Muffin that send us into fits. Last night, BD and I were enjoying a movie, when around 11pm the Muffin comes careening out of his bedroom and jumps into our laps, eyes bright like he'd been awake all along. "Hey guys. What's up? Why you watching 'da movie wif-out me?" I replied, "Hey buddy! What are you doing?" to which he answered, "Weeeeell, I was as-weep, wike 'dis. (*He stiffens up and collapses like a bird shot out of the sky, closes his eyes, and commences an uncannily realistic series of fake snores, then sits back up abruptly), but now, I'm 'wake wif' you! Wanna pway toys?" I am thankful for finally getting to spend some time with Ames and the Family S. My fave Lil' Diva is like the playmate/babysitter from heaven - I love being able to walk in the door, and collapse onto the couch for gossip with Ames and snuggle time with the Lil' Cupcake as the Muffin is whisked upstairs to play. We planned to go to a neat little backwoods barbecue joint for dinner, but upon arriving found that Sunday evenings were booked out to the local Alcoholics Anonymous chapter. By that time, my mouth was watering so bad that I almost tried to slide in unnoticed. I figured I could catch on pretty quickly, "Hi, my name is Megan, and I'm addicted to pulled pork and cole slaw..." BD did not find this amusing, so we all packed up and returned to town for a (still quite enjoyable) dinner at another restaurant. I am thankful that with old friends, it doesn't matter how long it's been since the last time you've seen them; you can always pick up exactly where you left off. I am thankful for uninhibited laughter. I am thankful for Applebee's spinach and artichoke dip. I am thankful for today.

The Muffin acting like Daddy's squirrel. I told him he still needs to work on his "Run, run for your life!" look. It's just not very convincing...

Proof

PROOF THAT...

...that we eat WAY to many Happy Meals.

...that I've been completely useless today.

...that someone who shall remain unnamed, (but can be easily identified), has been inside the house for entirely too long today.

...that there is never enough time in the day.

Weekend Wordle

Honey, I'm Home!

Public Service Announcement: Obsessions are never a good thing. Most especially, obsessions dealing with pecan pancakes. Whoever created pancakes should be shot. Or sainted. Maybe they could be shot and then sainted. Regardless, BabyDaddy has been making them for me. I think he's up to something. Your husband doesn't just make you pecan pancakes without an ulterior motive. *Sigh* I'll think about that later. Several of my most loyal darlings have ceaselessly emailed and Facebook messaged and plaintively texted about my relative blogging absence recently. Well, it's like this -- I've been feeling unwitty. As I've said before, I do hate to write when I'm feeling unwitty. There's nothing worse than a bloody bore. Although I'll have to say it's not for lack of material. Goodness knows I have more than plenty of that - the past few weeks have been absolute madness. Here are some of my favorite moments:


*Being the Toilet Paper Fairy (well, that might be a bit optimistic.)
Our kin from down south journeyed up to God's Country for a visit recently. Lord knows how she did it, but Mom actually got me to do chores. Like, manual labor. You know, the stuff that usually gives me hives. (Ya'll remember now, that my one true stroke of luck in life was marrying a man that is a cleaning machine.) So here I am, up much too early on the day that the cousins are to arrive, with Mom poking at my back and sending me through two houses with orders to make sure that no one would be stuck without a roll while in the facilities. I'm sure I looked like some kind of a bedraggled wreck - hair hanging in messy tendrils, smudged black rings outlining my squinty eyes; a full-to-brimming Ninja Turtles coffee mug clenched in one hand and a 24-pack of Charmin in the other. Some fairy I was. I should have had a sash and a tiara too....or a wand at least. I could have used the toilet plunger! Wouldn't that have been grand? Bother, I wish I'd have thought of it then....


*Sitting on the grass in the backyard and feeling the Muffin's pudgy little arm, sticky with lime Popsicle, sliding around my neck as he pronounces, "I wuv you 'da mos' Mamma. You're my best in 'da whole Earf." Then, he promptly states "I wanna pee in 'da grass pwease. Can you scoot over a widdle bit?" Ah, so much for savoring...


*Eating the very first of our very own summer-ripe tomatoes, right off the vine. There is nothing like tomato juice dribbling down your chin when no one is watching. I probably looked rather like a flesh-eating zombie, complete with glazed eyes and idiotic grin.

*Buying the $8 bag of Starbucks ground coffee at the Amish surplus store for $2.50. Oh yes, sweet victory! Happiness can be found in the bottom of a coffee cup. Now don't say I didn't ever give you any helpful advice.

*Working out, (and nearly passing out) with Jay. I swear, if I had just an ounce of the energy that she has in her swingy pony tail, maybe I wouldn't feel like hiding behind the pop machine every time we head in the general direction of the treadmills at the gym... Blast you skinny people! Couldn't you at least make it look hard? Thank God the last time we worked out together, the treadmill beside me was broken, so she had to work out in the row of machines in front of me. Every time she would turn around with a chipper, "How ya doing? Running hard?" I could crank up the speed dial and look like I was just pounding away, breathing hard, fists pumping, feet flying as I gulped out, "Oh yeah! This is great!" Then, when she turned back to the front, I could dial down to a more geriatric pace and gasp for breath like a dying fish flopping on a dock.

*Firefighter Campout/Cookout/Battle of the Rock Bands/Norm-a-palooza
I'll have to say this was the first year that I have made an appearance at this annual event, but I survived and had a good time. Ya'll know me, and the whole no bathroom, no cell phone service, sleeping-outside-with-the-wildlife isn't really my scene. But I must tell you that there was a Port-a-Potty, and it actually smelled nice! Is that possible? I've never come across a nice-smelling P-a-P in my life (ooohh, bad acronym, sorry girls), but this one I just about enjoyed using. A shout-out must be sent to Cass, who was absolutely delightful, 'Manda who introduced me to cherry coke and was the Diva-in-Residence at Rock Band, (yes, they had a large projection screen that they played video games on), and Kim, who was just funny as crap.

Well now, I must do something productive with the rest of my evening. I should go brush the coyote. Oh, you didn't know? BD has added to our little morbid zoo. Apparently, there's some sort of 'People-Who-Like-to-Stuff-Dead-Things' convention this weekend, which BD has been slaving away for. We now have a full-body mount coyote, snarling after two helpless little squirrels no less. I swear, just when I think it can't get any worse....

I cry to you for help; I lift up my hands toward your most holy sanctuary...” (Psalm 28:1).

Sometimes, when nothing makes sense, when you are tired and scared, when unspeakably horrific events rip you apart, you can do nothing else but cry out to God. And sometimes you can't even do that. I can testify to that from experience. I wasn't able to pray with a clear heart for some time after my brother died, but thankfully, I know that lots of other people were crying out to God on my behalf. So today, I am doing that for another family who has lost a son. A family from our church has spent the last two days waiting on the banks of a nearby creek for their son to be brought back to them. As far as I know, his body hasn't been found. A few moments ago, as I stood with a basket of laundry in my arms and watched my son dance to a song on TV, I thought about how much this family would give to be able to spend one more boring, uneventful afternoon with their son. A wave of thankfullness washed over me as I thought about how wonderful this day,and every day, with your family is. I pray that this family will find strength and peace.