On the Upside

Nope - She Never Shuts Up

2009-07-09T20:44:00.000-07:00

She takes a deep breath.

She puts her tongue to the back of her teeth.

She opens her mouth.

She says ...

"It's warm.

It's warm back here, now.

Did you turn on the heat?

I love those pretzel things.

Go HERE to read the rest of this post.

There Are Only Just So Many Places To Hide

2009-07-06T07:16:00.000-07:00

I pride myself on being a patient person.

Uh ... wait, that's not true. I'm the least patient person I know.

But, I do pride myself on being a good mother.

Uh ... wait, that's not true either. I'm basically a mediocre mother at best and I know this.

Okay, I am friendly and like large crowds.

Uh .... wait, that's false. I'm not a fan of large crowds and even search out ways to hide sometimes even from my own family.

Like recently, when I tiptoed like a quiet mouse upstairs to escape into my bathroom for some peace and quite.

Yes - I just went in there and sat at the small bench in front of my antique vanity and stared into the mirror at my frazzled reflection.

I was just looking for a bit of solitude.

I was just taking a minute for myself.

I was HIDING!

It didn't last long.

Suddenly ....

I hear someone enter the bathroom and start the shower in the room on the other side of the wall from me.

I hear some scuffling around and a bit of humming.

It does not take long before I know who is in there when the child begins to ramble incessantly ...

"NO," he says loudly.

"I KNOW," he then says even louder.

"DON'T YOU KNOW ANYTHING?" he's speaking in a voice that is echoing painfully loud off the tile walls of the bathroom.

"NO, I DO NOT KNOW - DO YOU KNOW?" he is talking to himself.

"I KNOW THERE IS NO ONE HERE, DO YOU KNOW WHY NO ONE IS HERE?" He goes on and on using the word NO is too many different and annoying ways.

"I TOLD YOU NO! DON'T YOU KNOW WHAT NO MEANS? NO? WELL, NO MEANS NO! DO YOU KNOW WHAT I MEAN?" He is now giggling after each creative sentence.

"NO, NO, NO! I DON'T WANT TO KNOW ANYMORE ABOUT IT. I SAID NO!" His voice fades a bit as he steps into the shower and slams the glass door.

I smiled.

And then ...

I sighed loudly.

And then ...

I got up and went to search for somewhere else to HIDE!

On the upside ... NO, I don't KNOW the next word he repeated over and over again, but I am confident that after I escaped the bathroom that there were likely additional vocabulary words tortured by the small boy.

SORRY!

2009-07-04T07:00:00.000-07:00

Oh ... there are a lot of DREADED words that a mother hates to hear.

I'm not talking about horrific things - don't want to think about horrific things.

I'm talking about those moments when a little one comes to you and says something that sends a bit of a chill up your spine.

Things like ...

"Mommy, there's something wrong with the toilet."

You know - DREADED words.

I've heard my share of DREADED words over the years and have compiled a mental list of the ones that rub me the most chilly.

I have tried to teach my children - over the years - those words that I am not fond of - those that make me a bit CRAZY. They still use all these words, but have gotten smart enough to know that they should say them really fast - like they are throwing them at me like a dart - and then run as quickly as they can out of the room.

Go HERE to read the rest of this post.

Sing Me A Song Or Get Out Of My Kitchen

2009-07-02T11:34:00.000-07:00

I am walking through the kitchen towards the trash can.

I notice - sitting perfectly still - on the edge of the counter - near the pantry - a BUG!

I yell across the kitchen, "Little Billy - come get this bug."

He walks across the tile floor to where I am standing. He looks around and says, "Where - what bug?"

I point to the counter, "There - see it? Get it!"

He keeps his hands at his side, bends at the waist, cocks his head sideways, puts his face really close to the tiny creature and says, "What makes you think I want to get it?"

I step back a few steps - fearing the bug is going to lunge or flitter off the counter in my direction and say, "Because that's what boys do - they get the bugs."

Go HERE to read the rest of this post.

Is This A Trick Question?

2009-07-01T07:15:00.000-07:00

"MOM - come watch me swim!" Alexis screams across the yard.

"Okay," I say and stroll over and sit at the poolside table.

"MOM ... watch me do a dive!" she screams and then dives into the pool.

"Sure - I'm watching," I say, looking right at her.

"MOM ... count how fast I can swim across the pool!" she hollers and then takes off across the pool.

"One Mississippi

Two Mississippi

Three Mississippi ..."

"MOM ... count how long I can stay under the water!" she yells and then holds her breath and under the water she goes.

"One Mississippi

Two Mississippi

Three Mississippi ..."

"MOM ... count how many underwater somersaults I can do," and she tucks herself into a ball and begins to twirl beneath the water.

"One ....

Two .....

Three ....

Four ....."

"MOM ... I'm going to walk on my hands. Count how many steps I can take," she squeals and then dives to the bottom of the pool and begins to walk on her hands.

"One ....

Two ....

Three ....

Four .....

Five ....."

"MOM - throw me some rocks and I'll go dive for 'em," she bellows and then stands on the side of the pool with her eyes closed waiting for the rocks to be thrown.

*Plunk*

"MOM ... Now it's your turn! What tricks do you know?" she asks, pulling herself up on the side of the pool waiting for my tricks.

I lift my iced tea glass to my lips and take a sip ...

I adjust my sunglasses on my nose ...

I cross my legs ...

I throw another rock into the pool ...

*plunk*

I stare across the pool into the eyes of my darling seven year old daughter and say ...

"You're looking at 'em."

On the upside ... "What tricks do I know?" ACK!! *Lazy mom throws her head back and laughs hysterically until iced tea spews out of her nose.*

Let's Talk About My Sex Life - Shall We

2009-06-26T07:57:00.000-07:00

I know - I'm a mom (blah, blah, blah) and ... this is a Mommy Blog (blah, blah, blah) and ... some of you are probably screaming, "She's not seriously going to talk about SEX is she?"

I AM.

This is my blog and I'm not getting any younger and ... I WANT TO TALK ABOUT SEX!

(Mom and Dad - get on outta here - I'm fixin' to talk about SEX. Seriously - GO!).

I never write about such things as sex on my blog. I talk about my kids. I occasionally talk about my shoes. I talk about the cats and the dogs and the plants in my yard. I don't talk much about cooking or post recipes - cuz I iz not a good cook.

Today - I'm talking about SEX!

I'm all for SEX and have never had a problem talking openly about SEX.

Today - I'm talking about SEX!

When I married The Cowboy - we were twenty-two years old.

He was very cute!

We had SEX all the time.

We did!

This was back when I was also cute and tiny and sexy and ...

Drove a pretty, white, Firebird with T-tops, leather interior and a rockin' CD player (this was when CD players just came out in cars).

I'd drive around town in my beautiful sports car, wearing short shorts, tank-tops with no bra and have the radio blasting my favorite Michael Bolton, Soul Provider CD (shut-up Jen - he WAS cool back then).

When I'd get home ...

I'd search out The Cowboy ...

Whisper sexy nothings into his ear ...

Rub up against him ...

And, we'd ...

Fall down anywhere we wanted in our empty house ...

Or search out some exotic or risky location ...

And we'd ...

Have ...

SEX!

It's really all we ever thought about back then.

It's really all we ever needed to do to have FUN!

Now ...

I'm a mom (blah, blah, blah).

I have four children and the poochy tummy and stretch-marks to show for birthing those four children. I've been driving a van for seventeen - SEVENTEEN - years! I am lucky to find a bra that still has the under wire intact and ... I don't even want to talk about the underwear.

And ... what do we do for fun now?

Well, let me just put it this way ...

If I ever fall down on the floor in my empty house - I'm usually looking to retrieve lost Legos or Barbie shoes from underneath the TV cabinet or scraping gum off the tile floor with a butter knife.

And ... the only thing the word exotic applies to anymore is the animal print rugs we have on our family room floor and risky only applies when The Cowboy and I attempt to actually try to have sex when the kids are awake.

There is nothing - NOTHING - I have needed lately, more than ... TO FEEL YOUNG AGAIN.

You know?

So ...

The other night ...

I brushed my hair.

I brushed my teeth.

I slathered on some Obsession body lotion all over my not-so-firm-and-stretch-marked body and ...

I crawled into bed next to my snoring cowboy and I woke him up at 1:30 in the morning.

And ...

The Cowboy and I ...

HAD SEX!!!

*Okay - hold that thought. I have to go to the dentist. I'll be right back*

*Tick-tock*

*Tick-tock*

*Ticktock*

*Ticktock*

*Ticktock*

*Ticktock*

*Ticktock*

Okay, I'm back - sorry about that.

YES!

WE HAD SEX!

What was so amazing was ....

Well ...

Aside from the fact that we actually had SEX ...

Was that ....

IT WAS FREAKIN' FANTASTIC!

It was that kind of sex we had when we were younger.

It was that kind of sex we had when we were in the earliest years of our marriage (BC -before children).

It was that kind of sex where you talk dirty (if that's your thing - it's our thing - there was dirty talking).

It was that kind of sex where there were lots of good, long, lust-filled, lustful, lustalicious ... kisses. YUM!

It was the kind of sex that young girls that drive cool TransAms have with really cute cowboys!

It has been a while since we have had this kind of SEX.

Too long.

Way too long.

LONGER THAN SHOULD BE LEGAL!

I don't know about you but ... kids sure put a cramp - a seventeen year cramp - in my SEX life.

I've tried to keep the spark alive (well except for that one five year stretch in there where I couldn't give a crap about anything other than sleep).

I've tried to shake things up from time to time to keep things interesting.

I've tried to put barricades against the door to our bedroom to keep those little monsters from storming in ...

It's not been easy *sigh*.

The Cowboy won't mind that I told you.

He's all about people thinking he's having sex.

He's all about actually ... having sex.

When we were through the other night, The Cowboy rolled over, sighed deeply and said, "That was just like when we were younger."

I passionately agreed and then said ...

"Yes ... it was," *breath breath* "just don't turn the lights on. I look like chit."

And ... I did.

But, that was only after.

During ...

I was beautiful and firm and sexy and ... 22 again!

On the upside ... The only thing that worries me is ... there's a really good possibility that this was all ... a dream.

Junk Yard Mama

2009-06-25T11:26:00.000-07:00

Late one evening I was lying in my bed, covered up to my neck with my cozy comforter - just watching TV.

I had not been feeling well for several days.

Little Billy, also having been sick for a few days, wandered into my room and crawled into my bed with me.

We cuddled.

He persuaded his ol' Mom to rub his back - something he loves.

After becoming completely relaxed, the boy says to his mom, "Ya know, how when you have a new car ... and it has a brand new engine?"

The mom says, "Yes," imagining in her mind the shiny new engine - sparkly chrome and pistons and clean new fluids.

The relaxed little boy then says, "And then, ya know ... how you might have a really old car - with a worn out engine?'

Go HERE to read the rest of this post.

-

Cool

2009-06-24T10:00:00.000-07:00

When I was young, I don't necessarily think I was all that cool.

I was definitely cooler than I am now.

I try to be a cool mom.

I'm not really all that cool, but I try.

I don't know how important it is to be cool, but I often hope that my kids think I'm cool.

I want my kids' friends to think I'm cool.

I'm also fine believing that my kids are also cool.

Little Billy asked me recently, "Mom, do you think I'm cool?"

Sitting in the front seat of the van, looking at my cute, dark-headed son in the rear view mirror, I said, "Define cool."

"Huh?" he says, a confused look on his face.

"Tell me what cool means. Define cool."

"You know - cool. Do you think I'm cool? Do I act cool. Do I look cool. Am I - cool?"

"Absolutely! You are cool," I said, smiling at my boy with the most confident smile.

"Define cool," he then says.

"Is this a trick?" I ask.

"No - I'm just curious what you think is so cool about me."

Hum. "I think everything is cool about you. Your hair is cool. Your personality is cool. Your clothes are cool. You are definitely cool," I say, trying to maintain my confident smile.

"You're not really the best person to ask - about cool - are you?" he says, totally innocent, but giggling a little too much.

"No."

On the upside ... :(

Teenagers - They Will Wear You Out!

2009-06-23T06:24:00.000-07:00

When you're five years old ... you one day decide that you can put on your own shoes and you won't let your mother help you.

When you're eight years old ... you one day decide that you can ride your bike on your own and you won't let your mother help you.

When you're ten years old ... you one day decide that you can choose your own clothes and you won't let your mother help you.

When you're twelve years old ... you one day decide that you can make your own breakfast and you won't let your mother help you.

When you're thirteen years old ... you one day decide that you can decorate your own room and you plaster posters on the walls and you won't let you mother help you.

When you're fifteen years old ... you one day decide that you can shop at the mall for your own clothes and you won't let your mother help you.

When you're seventeen years old you can ...

Put on your shoes by yourself.

Drive yourself to school, to parties, to the mall and and to your friends' houses.

Pick out your own clothes and cool outfits.

Make yourself breakfast and lunch and dinner and pick up chili-cheese-fries and a Route 44 cherry lime-aide from Sonic all by yourself and anytime you want.

Put posters and pictures of your friends and art you created and any crap you want on your walls and ceilings and behind the door of your room.

You can hang out at the mall and spend countless hours wasting time and spending far too much of you parents' money.

But ...

When your dad one day asks ...

"Courtney - can you pick me up some charcoal on your way home from Starbucks?"

You will likely say ...

"I don't know where to buy charcoal," and shoot your father the most innocent of childish grins.

"At the 7-11. You can pick me up some charcoal at the 7-11," your father will say nicely.

Then, you will likely say ...

"I don't know how to buy charcoal," and shoot your father the most innocent of childish grins.

"You just pick up the bag, walk up to the check-out counter and pay the guy," your father will advise.

Then, you will likely say ...

"Don't you have to be like 18 or something to buy charcoal?" and flash your father the most ridiculously confused smile.

"Uh - no," your father will respond.

Then, you will likely say ...

"But ... there are those things that kids aren't allowed to buy. Isn't charcoal like one of those things kids can't buy unless they're like 18 years old or something?" and flash your father the fakest confused smile you can conjure up.

"Uh - no," your father will respond. "It's charcoal, Courtney," he will say, a confused look riddling his fatherly face. "Charcoal. You do know what charcoal is?"

Then, you will likely say ...

"Uh - no."

On the upside ... *sigh*

*Note: The second picture of an innocent Courtney is a charcoal self-portrait done by Courtney.

Sometimes, I Just Don't Stack Up

2009-06-20T08:57:00.000-07:00

I try to be a good mom.

I'm not the best mom and I'm not the worst mom. I'm somewhere in between. In between those moms that take their children lunches to school and eat with them at least once a week and those other moms that send their little ones to school with $1.75 in their pocket to purchase the tray of yummy school lunch food (while I've done this too).

Courtney and Chloe make their own lunches for school.

Courtney was quick to point out to me recently that this was not what "good mothers" do for their kids.

She went on and on about how the mother of a friend of hers would not only make her daughter special sandwiches with actual lettuce with the lunch meat - but often include sweet little notes in her specially decorated bags. Sometimes, this same mother will make an extra sandwich for anyone that forgets to bring their lunch (*loser mom throws head back and laughs hysterically - bahahahahahaha*).

She also told me of another mother that prepares these little snack bags (chips, juice box, cookies) and keeps them in her car to hand out to the beggars on the corners that hold up signs that they are homeless.

Go HERE to read the rest of this post.

She Makes It Seem Pretty Darn Simple

2009-06-18T16:00:00.000-07:00

Hosted by Cecily and Mama Geek

It doesn't take all that much to make Alexis happy.

She finds joy in the simplest of things.

Her love for life and fun and laughter and song and dance are ...

INFECTIONS!

OBVIOUS!

CONSTANT!

She's only 7 years old - and to her - every moment is a moment of ... POSSIBILITY.

A moment of ... FASCINATION!

A moment for ... ENJOYING THE WORLD!

Recently ... she and I were at the lake together.

We decided to take a ride in the golf cart.

We grabbed our water bottles, our sunglasses and Remis - our puppy - and took off for a little ride.

It was a gloriously sunny, Texas summer afternoon.

We headed out down the road - to nowhere in particular - with no destination in mind - just driving - she and I and Remis ...

Driving along ...

Enjoying the sun and the breeze.

The view of the lake.

The ducks.

The people.

She looks at me at one point.

She says ...

Referring to Remis, who was sitting between her and I on the seat ...

"Inside ... he's jumping for joy!" She's grinning from ear to ear.

I smile.

"How do you know this?" I ask into the face of my smiling daughter.

She hesitates for a moment.

She smiles sweetly.

She says ...

"Because, I know ... I am."

On the upside ... And there you go. Finding joy in life is as simple as that!

He's Got My Number

2009-06-17T17:25:00.000-07:00

It's almost 10:30 p.m. and I walk by his room. I hear the TV and step inside. I look over at his bed and he shuts his eyes quickly - pretends he is asleep. I switch off the TV, walk over and give my sneaky boy a kiss on the forehead and leave his room.

The next evening, it is almost 10:30 p.m. and I walk by his room. I hear the TV and step inside the door. I stand in the doorway, put my hands on my hips and say, "I'm going to take this TV out of your room if I catch you watching it one more time."

He says, "Night Mom," and wraps his skinny arms around my neck and hugs me hard.

Go HERE to read the rest of this post.

My Sweet Little Star

2009-06-15T13:40:00.000-07:00

It is busy around our house at bedtime.

There is much screaming from the Mommy of the house.

"Get up here!"

"Didn't I ask you to get in the shower?"

"I ran your bath - go get in it ... for heaven's sake!"

Recently, Alexis meandered into my bathroom, where I had run her a bath in my whirlpool tub - that is now officially her bathtub, by the way, as she is the only one that ever uses the thing. I hear her splashing around.

Go HERE to read the rest of this post.

Sheeesh ... Is She Still Talking About That Damn Novel?

2009-06-11T09:05:00.000-07:00

Yes - I'm still talking about that damn novel. It's really all I ever talk about anymore and it is certainly the project taking up every minute of my time.

When I put my mind to something I sometimes become obsessed and even possessed by the project. I've never been much of a procrastinator and I guess that's good if things need to get done. And, right now - this novel is the thing in my life that I am focused on and determined to see through to the end. And ... the end is now in sight.

Go HERE to read more.

-

Next Time ... Jot It Down On Your Hand

2009-06-10T08:09:00.000-07:00

Little Billy came in from school and dropped his backpack by the front door. On his way to the kitchen I asked, "How was school today, Little Billy?"

He opened the door to the refrigerator, stood in front of it and said, "Horrible."
I said, "Why?"

Then he said, "No - not really. It was great! It was exhilarating." And then he peeked his head into the refrigerator.

I looked over and could only see his back, as his body was behind the door and I said, "It was?" And laughed. "Do you know what exhilarating means?"

He peeked out from behind the refrigerator door, looked over at me, cracked a little smile and said, "Not really."

He grabbed the jug of milk and closed the refrigerator door and then said, "I used a big word on the bus today." He plunked the milk jug up on the counter. "So-and-so always feels the need to protect me - you know - because I'm small and all - he was saying something about how my parents wouldn't let me go to see SAW IV (which they WILL NOT, by the way!) because I'm too little and I said to him, 'Just because I'm little, doesn't mean I'm _______ (fill in blank with big word he supposedly used - but now can not remember - he thinks it might start with a P and means - 'not as small and useless as you think I am').

Go HERE to read the rest of this post.

I Wonder, As A Mother, What My USDA Rating Would Be

2009-06-08T12:47:00.000-07:00

When I had my twins - 17 years ago - I think I was a pretty good mother.

I think I was like most new mothers, in that I did everything by the book. I kept them on a schedule, I burped them after each feeding, I gave them a bath nearly every single day, I put shoes and socks on their feet, I brushed their hair and put lovely pony-tails on the sides of their heads. I was a good mom.

The more kids I began to have, the farther and farther I began to stray from the "model mother" persona that I once resembled. Actually, it probably began to fade long before I actually gave birth to my son.

The beginning of the downward spiral was - oh ... probably after about the first year after my twins were born.

So ... that means - if am going to be honest - that I have been a less than "model mother" for at least 16 years - giving myself credit for being exceptional for merely one year!

Yep - that sounds about right.

Go HERE to read the rest of this post.

If Your Daddy Is A Redneck - Part #2

2009-06-04T15:42:00.000-07:00

Hosted by Cecily and Mama Geek

It has been a labor of love ...

as well as ...

Fulfilled every redneck fantasy my cute cowboy husband has ever had ...

It started out looking pretty pitiful ...

Pretty darn hopeless ...

Downright awful - sitting very "redneck-like" on the driveway by my house.

It (obviously) was a fixer-upper ...

Requiring a lot of work ...

And searching the land far and wide for missing parts.

It needed some serious body work ...

Pieces of this monster hung from tree limbs to be inspected, banged on and painted.

And then there was more painting.

And more painting ...

All while continuing to search the land far and wide (okay - the internet) for an extensive list of missing parts.

And then one day ...

It started to look like a pretty nice car ...

It was coming together with its shiny new paint job and sparkling new chrome.

Until one day recently ...

Almost two years into this Mustang project ...

The announcement finally came ...

IT IS DONE!

(THANK THE LORD!)

So, the car was a gift to our twin daughter's, Courtney and Chloe, for their 17th Birthday.

They only recently drove it to school (once their dad got the A/C put in it).

A football player stopped the girls in the parking lot. "Who's car is that?" he asked, envy in his eyes.

"It's mine," Courtney answered shyly.

"You've gotta be shi**in' me!" he exclaimed.

"Nope - it's ours." Chloe smiled proudly.

"What kind of engine's in it?" the burly football player asked, his eyes wide and curious.

*blink blink*

"I dunno. Loud." Courtney answered quietly.

The moral of this conversation is: Football players that would know the size engine in this 1969 Mustang are probably more deserving of such a sweet car than twin girls that are more interested in a functioning A/C and loud speakers.

The only problem with the completion of this two-year project is ...

Now ... my cute, redneck husband is searching the land (and the internet) far and wide for a new piece of junk car to restore for the boy child.

*sigh*.

My Boy ... The Genius

2009-05-30T16:06:00.000-07:00

I went to my son's school to meet with his teacher for a conference.

We sat at the table in her room, went over issues Little Billy has been having about not remembering things - like ... when tests are coming up ... reviewing for tests ... studying for tests ... failing tests! (He is going to be the death of me!)

Go HERE to read the rest of this post.

Oh ... To Have The Faith Of A Child

2009-05-28T07:35:00.000-07:00

The boy sat quietly.

His mother, driving the van, hummed along with the country song coming from the radio.

Over the sound of the music, the mother heard her son say, "Mom. Do you think that there has been someone born on everyday - everyday, in the history of the world?"

The mother thought for a moment about this question, shook her head and said, "No. Thousands of years ago, when there weren't so many people on the earth, I am sure there were days when there were no people born at all."

The boy then said, "What about these days? Is there someone born every single day?"

Go HERE to read the rest of this post.

Have a great day!

There's A Fight In The Air

2009-05-26T07:06:00.000-07:00

Sometimes, a fight is in the air just waiting to be unleashed - let out in an avalanche of rage - in the On The Upside household.

It was one of those mornings.

Somehow, Little Billy made the huge mistake of sitting in front of Courtney and Chloe's computer.

He came running up to the kitchen with tears in his eyes, "It's not fair," he squealed, "The girls won't let me go on the computer - they think I'm the one who got the virus on their computer and so now they say I can never use it again." He was in such distress.

I immediately became - distressed.

These fights - this bickering - is enough to make me resort to all sorts of tactics to resolve matters that seem to find only fuel to escalate the problem when rational suggestions are offered.

"Ask for your own computer for your birthday," I say loudly, knowing the words from my mouth will float past the boy in front of me and downstairs to the ears of his "mean" sisters. "Ask for a laptop," I suggest and then smile.

Little Billy smiles back.

Suddenly, from the family room emerge two angry sisters, bellowing loudly their disbelief that a mother would suggest such a ridiculous idea. "YOU CAN'T BE SERIOUS!" one would scream, "IF HE GETS HIS OWN LAPTOP - I'M MOVING OUT OF HERE," another one threatens. "HE'S ONLY ELEVEN YEARS OLD!" the words are spoken distinctly and spewing spit is attached at the tail-end of the sentences. They were enraged and besides themselves with anger.

They tried and tried to determine if their mother was serious or merely suggesting such an outrageous idea to make a point. They were unable to determine which.

I smiled.

Little Billy snickered and smiled.

The mother knew that the pacifying of the boy child by her suggestion was obviously provoking the two daughters to almost uncontrollable anger - but, she did not back down. The angrier they became - the more she wished a laptop for the boy. It was a test, of sorts - this little game - that THEY FAILED!

The mother shewed the girls out of the room - tiring of their loud voices and angry faces. Once gone, she turned to the boy child, pulled him toward her and whispered in his ear "You're my favorite," and he smiled real big - with a look on his face that suggested that he never doubted this fact.

Little Billy stayed near his mother in the kitchen - probably in an effort to stay clear of angry sisters. After a little while, and several conversations later, Little Billy got up to leave the room. I called him over, "By the way," I said, "You're not really my favorite," I had to set the record straight.

He giggled and then his eyes got big, "W-hat? W-hy?" he was shocked. "Well ... then who is?" he asked seriously

"Well - you know I can't have favorites," I explained, "I love all you kids the same. I was just kidding."

"You can have a favorite - sure you can," he suggested confidently.

"You're my favorite boy," I ran my hand through his hair.

"I'm your only boy," he snarled and then ... walked out of the room.

I screamed after him, "YOU'RE MY FAVORITE BOY IN THE WHOLE WORLD."

No response.

On the upside ... After Little Billy left the room, Alexis cozied up next to me,"I'm your favorite - right?" and smiled real big.

"Are you fighting with anyone?" I asked.

She answered, "No."

"Do you want to move out of this house?" I asked.

She answered, "No."

"Do you want a laptop for your birthday?" I asked.

She answered - "Can I have one?"

I answered, "NO!" and shewed her on her way.

You Do The Math

2009-05-23T15:39:00.000-07:00

Alexis is in my room, lying on the floor and playing with the calculator out of my purse.

She looks up at me and asks, "How old will you be when I'm 25?"

Too much math for me to actually figure out, so I just say, "Very old."

Without hesitating she says, "Maybe even dead."

*sigh*

Then she says, "How old is Granna, anyways? 91?" I say, "Noooo." "If she was 91, she couldn't even hear us. She'd say, 'Eh eh, eh-eh (*cups her hand to her ear*).'" She giggles.

Go HERE to read the rest of this post.

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Today ... I Heard Her Voice

2009-05-17T09:10:00.001-07:00

It was a drizzly morning and I had just come out of the door of my daughter's school.

I stepped out into the rain and crossed the street.

Walking towards me, across the parking lot, was a man and a tiny little girl.
He was holding her hand.

As they moved closer, I noticed her dark curly hair fluffed around her tiny face, peeking out the sides of her red hooded jacket. She didn't look old enough to walk.

Go HERE to read the rest of this post.

The Boy I Loved One Week At A Time

2009-05-14T15:23:00.001-07:00

Hosted by Cecily and Mama Geek

My Photo Story Friday is over on my other blog if you'd like to go HERE to check it out.

Have a GREAT Friday!!

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Oh ... The Webs He Weaves

2009-05-14T06:30:00.000-07:00

On more than one occasion, I have heard my husband say, "What do you want to eat?" on a Saturday afternoon, to Little Billy or Alexis in the kitchen.

If I hear this, I will run as fast as I can into the kitchen, step in front of my husband and say, "No, No, No ... you don't ask them, 'What do you want to eat?'" looking at my very confused husband like he has lost his mind. Then I will pull him aside to explain. "You have to offer them something. You can't give them the choice of ALL the foods in the whole world, for craps sake. Haven't you been watching how I do this all these years? You need to say something like, "Do you want a peanut butter sandwich or a tuna fish sandwich?"

Go HERE to read the rest of this post.

Hope you're having a great week!!!!

This Is My Blog And I'll Brag If I Want To!

2009-05-08T07:24:00.000-07:00

So ...

Have you read my book?

Oh - that's right, it's not published yet - tee hee.

But ...

Guess who has read it?

You'll never guess.

YES! JAMIE!

My good blogging/aspiring writer/mom friend, Jamie Harrington at Totally The Bomb.Com

And ...

She hasn't just read the first novel - NO - she read both the first and the second. Here's what she had to say after she'd read both books (these are excerpts from the e-mails she sent me):

Okay... first off... I am thinking about driving to Marble Falls and punching Brian. Grrrr.....

Oh, and when I'm done with that... you're next--That's two nights now I've stayed up until five in the morning reading your work! HAHA--It's that good.

LOVE LOVE LOVE the Lake House. It's like my mostest favoritest scene!

All in all this book is so great! I am so in love with the characters, and I need to read book three.

Have you finished book 3????? I NEED to read book 3. Hey what's one more night of sleep? I have a latte maker, and I can't live with them being broken up like this! I will cry, oh yes I will.

It's awesome girl.

When this book is on shelves, I'm telling everyone I know that I read it when it was a word document. There are typos... but I was reading too fast to email you with them haha! I will go back through when you're ready... oh and you might want to just do a word find on "Sweetly" LOL when you see how often you used it you're gonna have to head to the dentist for that big 'ol cavity from all those sweets :)

Book 3!! Send it! I need ta read it!

It's great girl. :)

This was from another e-mail Jamie sent me:

I am dying to hear more of your story... I was telling a friend about this awesome book I read over the weekend... and I didn't even tell them it wasn't published.. they were all "Oh we should read that for book club!" I just smiled lol

And another:

Your book will for sure end up being one that high school kids read when they should be listening to their teachers haha!

I know - I'm totally bragging. I can't help it. I was so hyped when I got Jamie's e-mails and she said she'd stayed up until 5:00 a.m. to read MY BOOK!

Jamie is a very talented writer who started writing her completed novel about the same time I started mine. She is currently writing a second novel and I think - I BELIEVE - it is going to be UNBELIEVABLE! The characters and the idea she has going for this second novel is REALLY amazing and I can't wait to read hers when she finishes it near the middle of May.

So - I am thrilled that Jamie (someone I highly respect - plus she has her degree in English Literature) agreed to read/help edit my books and VERY happy that she likes them. Hopefully she likes book3 as well as the first two.

I am ALMOST done with the third novel in the series. I am at 63,000 words (of 75,000). And ... this will not be the last. Laney's story is not done and I intend to write book4 also.

Right now, I am passing the books around to have people read (just sent both to my friend in Utah over the weekend - Hi Vic!). Once I get suggestions/ideas/feedback from all my volunteers - I will RE-edit book one (again) and FINALLY start searching for an agent.

I know - it seems CRAZY to be writing book after book and I haven't even submitted book one to an agent and blah, blah, blah. I KNOW - it feels crazy to me too. But ... writing these 2 additional books has been HUGE in re-molding book1 and tightening the plot and building the characters. I didn't know so many things about the characters in book1 until I started writing book3. Whatever - I'm writing them and ... I just hope something will come out of so much effort.

Okay - back to writing. I gotta find out how book3 ends!