4 Things

I was tagged the other day by my friend Melissa, so here goes...

Four place I go over and over:
Damon's school
Wal-Mart
McDonald's
the pharmacy

Four people who e-mail me (regularly):
Emily
Susan
Christie
Granny

Four places I would rather be right now:
by the ocean
Georgia
in bed
anywhere with friends

Four TV shows that I watch over and over:
Drake and Josh
iCarly
Hannah Montana
Ben 10
(can you tell who usually has control of the remote in our house??)

Four things I have for breakfast:
peanut butter toast
cereal
egg and cheese sandwich
coffee

Four animals I like best:
dogs
otters
monkeys
elephants

Four beaches I’ve been to:
Ocean City, MD
Bermuda
Outer Banks
Daytona Beach, FL

Tag 4 people:
I'm tagging whoever hasn't done this one already, because most of my blogging friends have, it seems!

Redneck Heaven

Nick worked until noon today, and then we wanted to spend the rest of the day doing something together as a family (that's becoming the "Saturday thing" around here, apparently).

So, we hopped in the car and took a little road trip to our nearest Cabela's. Nick and Damon loooove Cabela's -- "The World's Foremost Outfitter." I prefer to call this place Redneck Heaven. It is... truly.

As we sat down to lunch at Cabela's this afternoon, I looked around and thought, "My God, I've never seen so many rednecks in one place at one time... not even at a NASCAR race!"

I'll admit, there are some really neat, one-of-a-kind things at Cabela's, and it's not completely horrible to spend a few hours walking around looking at all of this neat stuff. My favorite part of the store is the Home & Cabin department. If I had a log cabin, I'd want one of everything in there... the furniture, the bedding, the accessories, etc. My very favorite thing that I saw today were these framed prints of sporting dogs, specifically the Golden Retriever one... he looked vaguely familiar!

What I do NOT enjoy about Cabela's? First and foremost, the gun section. Good gravy do they have some guns. And today they were having a Gun Show... oh, for joy. I just don't understand the obsession with guns. I can understand having a gun or two for hunting... okay, fine. But these people in Cabela's... they're crazy. They will stand at that darn gun counter for hours, holding each and every gun, dreaming of owning these guns, while their wives stand by tapping their feet because they're bored out of their minds and they know their husbands don't NEED any more guns. (Trust me, I'm speaking from experience here.)

I also am not very fond of the duck call section of Cabela's. Because today, my husband stood in the duck call section of the store for what seemed like 5 hours. He stood there with two grown men, looking at whistles. And these grown men (who were vendors at Cabela's today and duck call "experts," I presume) opened each and every duck call in the place and demonstrated them, showing off their abilities to whistle.

When Nick plays with HIS duck calls at home, he gets yelled at. Then he gets cussed at. And then, he finally gets kicked outside to "play with his whistles." Duck calls are the most annoying things on the planet. And I had a splitting headache by the time I finally dragged Nick away from the duck call section today.

I tried to be patient... I really did. I tried to keep the kids entertained and we wandered around for a while. Then I huffed and puffed and gave Nick dirty looks, which had absolutely no effect. Finally, I approached Nick and one of his whistling buddies and announced, "We're about to leave your ass here if you don't come on." Nick's whistling buddy seemed a little taken aback by that statement... probably because I LOOK like such a nice girl. I was not feeling very nice at that point in time, however.

By the time we left Cabela's late this afternoon, I was not a very happy camper. And my husband, who is very perceptive, seemed to notice. So, he drove me next door to Aggravated Wife Heaven. I spent an hour or so (while Nick kept the kids entertained in the car, God bless him!) at Michael's and Books A Million. I purchased some new scrapbooking goodies and three new books.

And all was right in my world again.

I'm never, ever moving out of this state... ever

Nick and I spent our entire day jumping through hoops for the Department of Motor Vehicles. All we wanted to do was get our new licenses (I'm pretty sure our 30 days are UP!) and register our vehicles here... that's it.

Now I know why we've been putting this off for months and months. It's just a total nightmare.

Neither one of us got our new license... I couldn't get mine because I need a certified copy of my marriage certificate. This really boggles my mind. I've been married for over 7 years... my name has been changed on EVERYTHING for years and years and years... my Social Security card reflects my married name; why in God's name is THAT not enough to prove to the DMV that I'm who I say I am?? If the federal government recognizes me for who I am, then I'd say that should be enough for the DMV. Sheesh.

So, I had to apply online for a copy of my marriage certificate because I lost the original years ago, probably during one of our many moves. Who knows. I haven't seen the thing in eons. And I've gotten several drivers licenses since I was married, without the stupid thing. grrrrrrr. Anyway, applied online, paid $23 to have it expedited. And I'll be lucky to see it in 10-14 days. Fabulous.

I didn't register my car here because they want to charge me sales tax (because I didn't buy the car here and they didn't get that chunk o' change to begin with... pity). I have to travel to my county courthouse to fill out a form to be exempt from this tax (I have no clue why I'm exempt, but supposedly if I fill out this magical form, I won't have to pay that $450... that's worth a trip to the courthouse, right?).

Nick couldn't get his license because he has a CDL and it's complicated. Maybe he'll bitch about it on his blog because I don't even have the energy to type up that whole story (plus he's in desperate need of blogging material anyway...).

We DID manage to get one thing accomplished: Nick's truck has tags and an inspection sticker!! We opted to go ahead and pay the sales tax on his truck, because it was a fraction of what mine was going to be. And because his out-of-state tags were going to expire in 3 days... so his tags were much more urgent than mine, which don't expire until NEXT September.

Oh goody. I can put this off even LONGER now. I am not looking forward to repeating this day anytime soon. Although I did really enjoy spending an unexpected day with my husband. Even if he was cussing for most of it...

Hi, my name is...

Avery's preschool teacher came by today to meet us. Ms. Christina was super nice, and of course Avery had a ball yakking it up and telling her all sorts of stories.

Before she left, Ms. Christina gave Avery a little bag filled with things to make a name tag for her first day of school: a shoe string, some beads, and a piece of cardboard with a hole in it.

Of course, we couldn't have a plain cardboard name tag... ohhhh no. We had to dig into Mommy's scrapbook supplies and make a CUTE tag for Miss Avery! (And I'll just about bet that we add more to it before she actually starts school in two weeks.)

She was proud of our creation, can you tell?? I think it'll be a miracle if the thing survives for the next two weeks... because she's already wearing it around her neck. Diva. At least we won't forget her name.

First day of school

Damon graciously allowed me to snap ONE picture of him as we were heading out the door this morning. Wasn't that sweet of him??

Then we headed off to the elementary school, where it was a complete madhouse of course! Normally, Damon's school is locked down like Ft. Knox... and parents generally aren't even allowed in the front door with kids in the morning. But, luckily, today they welcomed us to escort our babies to their classrooms.

Damon was his usual grumpy, nervous, anxious self. So we quickly said goodbye and I wished him a good day, and then Avery and I headed back out to the car.

Oh, and of course I was wrong about the "Ms. Johnson" thing. I knew I shouldn't have assumed that his teacher would be female. He's not. Damon's teacher is, in fact, a MR. Johnson.

Today the kids have an early dismissal... so we'll be going BACK to the madhouse in just a few hours to retrieve our boy. Hopefully he'll have only good things to report!

Getting Ready for 2nd Grade (and preschool)!!

I don't know how it's possible that my baby is almost 8 years old and starting the 2nd grade in a few days... I really don't. But, I didn't intend to go all mushy on you in this post, so that's all I'll say about THAT.

Today, we drove over to Damon's school to check out the class lists that were posted yesterday. Sure enough, there was his name at the bottom of the middle list of 2nd graders. He's the 21st of 21 kids in Ms. Johnson's class (I'm assuming it's a female teacher; I could be totally wrong about that... I guess we'll find out Tuesday!). And we were both relieved to find several familiar names on the list... kids who were in his class last year. I think knowing that he knows a few of the kids will make his first days of this school year a little easier. Surely they'll be easier than his first days when we moved here last winter (I really don't want to relive that nightmare again).

After confirming that Damon is, in fact, slated to begin the 2nd grade Tuesday, we headed to the mall. After a painful hour or so in the shoe store, he finally decided on a new pair of Skechers. Good grief. He's so NOT a shopper, this kid. Moping and whining and crying and getting frustrated all over the store. It was so much fun!

He already has a bookbag (a hand-me-down from Nick that's still is great shape) and lunchbox (bought toward the end of last school year)... and we won't have a clue about what kind of school supplies he needs until his first day, apparently. So, I guess Tuesday evening we'll join every other kid in this town at Walmart and fight over folders, notebooks, glue sticks, pink erasers, and hand sanitizer. I'm really looking forward to that!

Damon does not seem at all excited about starting a new school year. This means he won't be able to play his video games and watch Ben 10 Alien Force all day every day. Poor kid.

Mommy, on the other hand, is thrilled about school starting. Beyond thrilled, really. I could lie and say, "I'm really going to miss my baby when he's gone all day!" But I won't. I'll be 100% honest and tell you that I'm counting the minutes until I can drop him off at school Tuesday morning. I'm sure I'll be happy to see him later that afternoon, but I will thoroughly enjoy the peace and quiet while he's gone... I just know it.

Also on Tuesday, Avery's preschool teacher is coming by the house for a "home visit." Apparently these home visits are typical in the Hills... but totally foreign to me. Her teacher called a few nights ago to arrange this home visit and asked me if I had any questions. I felt really stupid and replied, "uhh, well, yeah... what exactly do you DO during this home visit?"

Where I come from, a home visit regarding your child is generally NOT a good thing... that's when the people from CPS come out to investigate and make sure you aren't beating your child and feeding her stale bread and water for dinner, and that you don't have 168 cats living, dying, and urinating all over your house, I suppose. Not that I would know what these CPS people actually do. Really, I'm a good mom... for the most part. (Although, I AM really looking forward to getting rid of my kids this fall.)

Avery's teacher, however, said that she just wanted to come out and meet Avery and get to know us a little before her first day of school... and she said she'd probably bring a little craft along. Avery was jumping for joy when I reported all of this to her. Unlike her big brother in every way possible, Avery is READY to go to school!

And Mommy is sooooooooooo ready... for both of my beautiful babes to go away and leave me for a few peaceful hours each day. Forget the tissues, pass the bon-bons!

Fashionista

Avery likes to wear blankets.

She comes to me, in nothing but her undies, with a blanket (the particular blanket she's modeling below was Damon's when he was a newborn!) and asks me to tie it around her. And she will wear this blanket around for hours. She even wore a blanket as jammies one night and slept like that... with that huge knot in her back.

The kid is peculiar. Did I say she was MY daughter?? I might have to reconsider that claim. When she does weird things like this, she's definitely her daddy's girl!


(and I don't even wanna talk about that awesome headband look she's sporting...)

Like mother, like daughter

It's no secret that Avery is my Mini-Me. Strangers standing in the check-out line at Wal-Mart smile at us and say, "she looks JUST like you!" My mom has been known to say, "she looks like you spit her out of your mouth!" (And isn't THAT a lovely image?!?!)

But, just in case the fact that we could be twins (with a 28-year age difference) isn't enough for you, here are some other ways that I know Avery Brooke is MY girl.

1. Avery never shuts up. I mean never. EVER. If she's awake, she's running her mouth. And she doesn't seem to care if anyone's actually listening to her... I'm pretty sure she just likes to hear the sound of her own voice. It's okay, Avery, you have a very cute, little voice, and I like the sound of it, too. And, well, I have been told, on occasion, that I talk a lot... maybe too much (is there such a thing??). We can't help it that we have so much to say!

2. Avery loves to sing. She sings along to country music (Taylor Swift is her hero), hip hop music, Barbie and Disney Princess soundtracks, dog food commercials... you name it. And if she's not singing, she's humming (that's something we both inherited from my Gram... she hums constantly; and when Gram and I are in a car together, we both hum at the same time, different tunes. And we don't even realize we're doing it. We are strange, musical folk.). I can't remember a time in my life when I wasn't singing. When I was Avery's age, I knew the words to every country song on my mom's radio (and I wanted to look like Crystal Gayle when I grew up). Today, I still know the words to almost every song on the radio. Avery and I love to listen to music or watch music videos together, and sing along with every word. Sometimes we even harmonize... we could be the new Judds!

3. Avery hates mornings. She's the only person in this house who can (and does) sleep in later than me. Nick and Damon... they apparently have some strange sort of early bird gene. I've never understood what's so great about mornings, and apparently Avery doesn't understand either. Avery and I like to have our breakfast at around noon... Frosted Flakes taste just as good then as they do at 6am, I'll bet!

4. Avery loves to read (even though she can't really read yet). I've tried and tried to instill my love of books in my son. And every now and then, I think it's working... he'll express interest in reading, for about 10 minutes. Then, he's back to his video games or sword fighting with the neighborhood boys. But, Avery... dear, sweet Avery... she loves books. She begs me to read to her daily. And she concentrates on every word I say, so that she can memorize the story and "read" it back to me. She even takes my 500-page romance novels off the shelf and pretends she's reading them (although, I suspect that might go along more with #1 and the fact that she likes to hear her own voice).

5. Avery loves people. The child doesn't know a stranger... she'll talk to anyone. And I mean ANYONE. When we go into a store, she waves, smiles, and says "Hi!" to every single person we pass... seriously, every. single. one. And God forbid they actually respond... because that's all the encouragement Avery needs to launch into her full life history and ask about theirs. Although I'm not quite as friendly as my daughter (because I think that would just frighten people), I do, for the most part, like people. And on the rare occasion that I actually leave my house, I try to carry extra smiles and words of greeting with me (I would be an awesome Wal-Mart Greeter... now, there's a thought!).

So, there you have it... she's definitely my kid. Not only does Avery look like me, but she also talks, sings, sleeps, reads, and loves like me. And those are just five more reasons that I love her like I do.

A new computer, no sleep, and Percocet

I know, it's a strange combination of things to blog about... but that's been my last few days in a nutshell.

Against my better judgment (but because my checkbook and stack o' unpaid medical bills requires it), I took on another book project this month, in addition to my usual journal work.

I was smart this time around, though... I created a schedule of sorts and submitted it to my Project Manager, so that I would be held accountable and wouldn't (maybe) put off editing all nine chapters until the night before the deadline. And, amazingly enough, I was sticking to the schedule. Life was good.

Then, sometime last weekend, my trusty Toshiba laptop decided to quit working. I'm pretty sure the poor thing is virus-infested; it had been doing weird things for a while, but nothing so terrible that I couldn't ignore it and continue to work (so, of course, that's exactly what I did). Until last weekend. I paid the ultimate price for ignoring my trusty Toshiba when it finally decided to cease functioning altogether. And I cried.

So, I had to suck it up and buy a new desktop this weekend... with money that was supposed to be the start of our new savings account (it was a nice thought, really). Then, I spent almost a full day transferring important work files, programs, etc. from the old computer to the new one. Luckily, the trusty Toshiba cooperated just long enough to let me do that much.

So, technical difficulties caused me to fall behind on the book project. Which leads me to the "no sleep" part...

Last night I decided not to sleep, so that I could get caught up with my work. I stayed up ALL night... really. At 6am this morning, I finally fell into my bed and crashed for a few divine hours.

Today it's painfully clear to me that I am no longer a young college student who can get away with pulling all-nighters. I remember a time when all-nighters were not so uncommon, nor were they quite this painful. The good old days. But now, I'm a 32-year-old overworked and underpaid wife, mother, and editor. All-nighters are a baaaaaad idea.

I did get quite a bit of work accomplished last night, however. I'm not totally "caught up" but much closer than I was 24 hours ago!

And the Percocet? For the past few days, I've had a horrible stiff neck (probably from sitting at my desk for far too long). It's progressively gotten worse each day, and ibuprofen isn't touching it anymore. By this morning, I couldn't even lift my arm high enough to put my hair in a ponytail without crying out in pain. So, I found some Percocets in our drug basket and took one.

The good news is that I can move again. But taking a Percocet when already sleep-deprived is probably a really bad idea. I'm fighting to keep my eyelids open this afternoon, despite the full pot of coffee I've consumed.

And, I need to get back to work on this book. I could really use a sick day (or week!) right about now! In my dreams...

After Midnight

Avery just woke up (supposedly after a "weird dream") and found me sitting at the computer. She stood here next to me, rubbing her eyes, and said:

"Mommy, why don't you just go to bed right now??"

"Because I have work to do, Ave."

"So... you're never going to sleep again????"

Sometimes it feels that way, Avery, trust me! And to think that I have to fight with the kids to get them to go to sleep every night. They don't realize they're the lucky ones! I'd pay someone to force me to bed at 9pm every night...

*yawn*

Date Night Report

Nick and I had such a great time last night!

The wings were finger-lickin' good... Nick got good ole hot wings, of course. And I almost peed myself when I saw on the menu that one of their "flavors" was Old Bay. Never in my wildest dreams would I have thought to season wings with Old Bay... but I knew I had to have them! As soon as the basket o' wings was placed in front of me, I inhaled deeply and was suddenly back on the Eastern Shore of MD, for just a second. Nothing says "home" like the smell of Old Bay (even if it's on wings and not blue crabs!).

The bartender didn't even know what Old Bay was... and informed me that I'm the only person who has ever ordered their Old Bay wings. Why am I not surprised?

So, the wings were a hit.

The karaoke was also fun, fun, and more fun. I sang A LOT. At one point, later in the evening, we were the only people in the place... along with the bartender and Larry, the karaoke guy. So the four of us carried on and had a blast pretending to be superstars... drunken superstars at that.

Nick even grabbed the microphone for a few songs. And we danced and everything.

It's taken me most of the day to recover from our fun night out. My head was pounding for hours... I sent Nick a text message around noon, asking him to please come home and shoot me. And I'm fairly certain Grandma won't be anxious to sit with the kids again anytime soon because we didn't make it home until after 1am (and she had to work this morning, oops!).

But, all in all, we had a fabulous night out. And I'm reallllly looking forward to bedtime tonight (I'm thinking 7pm sounds like a good time for lights out!).

Wing It and Sing It Wednesday!

In a few hours, Grandma is coming over to stay with the munchkins for the evening... so that Nick and I can spend some time together outside of our house (and away from our favorite little people).

To say I'm looking forward to it is a vast understatement.

The little bar down the street from our house has wings (Nick's favorite) and karaoke (my favorite) on Wednesday nights, so that's going to be our first (and probably last) stop!

The only downfall is that I have tons of editing work here... so I should be a good girl and stay home and WORK tonight. Yeah, right... I'm going out, work or no work. Because I'm fairly certain the work will still be here tomorrow, and life is short! And also because a date with my hubby is priceless...

Learning to Ride

Damon has been all about bike-riding this summer... but, until recently, his sister never expressed any interest. I guess her big brother started rubbing off on her and she wanted in on the fun. This bike is one of the Treasures from Our Basement... so, Nick and I took Avery to the school up the street the other day so that she could practice riding.

She loved it!

And before anyone feels the need to point it out... yes, I know she wasn't wearing the recommended protective gear. Yes, I know that makes me a bad mom. It's amazing I've managed to keep my kids alive this long...

A little sad

Actually, I'm a lot sad tonight.

We moved to the Hills 5.5 months ago. I think I can truthfully tell you that we're starting to feel "at home" here. We survived our first winter (it was really only HALF of a winter, wasn't it? eeek!); Damon has made some neighborhood friends who love the PS2 as much as he does; we have doctors that we're very happy with; Nick has a great, local job that suits all of us; and Spring and Summer have been positively gorgeous here on top of our hill.

But, without a doubt, what I've enjoyed the most these past few months is the friendship that we've developed with our neighbors. Not the crazy old people across the street who adore their driveways, but the family right next door---Terri, Mark, Paige, Dante, and Izzy (Comet's girlfriend, remember?).

When the snow finally melted a few months ago, all of the neighborhood kids started congregating in our yard every afternoon/evening... including Paige and Dante from next door. So, I started sitting outside with Terri, and we yelled at the kids and dogs, smoked a lot of cigarettes, and got to know one another a little more each day.

I've grown to love Terri and her kids... and the dog, too (even though I have no room in my life for another animal to love, Lord knows). Our husbands have even become friendly recently (well, as friendly as two very anti-social, stubborn men who each work two jobs can be!).

But yesterday, a moving truck pulled up next door, and Terri and family loaded all of their belongings into it... and they left us. Isn't that just my luck? We have neighbors for the first time in years, and we even LIKE them... and now they're gone. *sniff, sniff*

Granted, they moved just outside of town, maybe a 15-minute drive from here (if that). So, by no means are they rid of us! I'm planning to take the kids and Comet out to their new house at least once a week, so that we can stay in touch and remain great friends. And Avery will be in preschool with Dante this Fall, so I'm sure we'll run into each other there. But still, that's a lot different than having them right next door. *sniff, sniff*

Nick and I were sitting out on our porch this morning, and I glanced next door and realized how quiet it is now. Dante isn't running outside saying, "Hey! Is Damon home? Can Damon come out and play? I wanna play the video game where you shoot people!" And Izzy isn't running over every chance she gets to see if Comet can come out to play or knock over his water bowl. Paige isn't doing backflips in my backyard and playing freeze tag with the younger kids. And Terri isn't here to sit on the porch, relax, and have a cold beer with me at the end of a long day. Darn it.

Tonight, I'm feeling a little hormonal anyway... and losing my neighbors (the only halfway normal people on this street, no less!) is definitely not helping. With any luck, their replacements will be just as nice and just as normal... but I'm not really counting on it. And they certainly won't be Terri, Mark, Paige, Dante, and Izzy. *sniff, sniff*

So, Terri, I know you're busy unpacking and getting settled in your new, gorgeous home in the country... but know that we're already missing you (tons!) here in town. And when you start to miss the old freaks across the street (you know you will!), you can always come back to visit us. We'll see you guys soon!

Disgusting

As a mom, I've been blessed with lots of nastiness... my kids have spit up on me, thrown up on me, peed and pooped on me, bled on me, and wiped their noses on me.

And I wouldn't expect anything less. I'm a mom; it comes with the territory. I can almost stomach all of the bodily fluids and other fun things that come out of my offspring. They're mine, I made them... and I love every part of them, even their poop and boogies.

But yesterday, the most disgusting thing EVER happened to poor me.

I was sitting on the couch, innocently reading a book. Lizzie, the disgusting, sorry-excuse-for-a rat-dog, was sleeping on the cushion right above me (it's her favorite spot to sleep... the top of the couch, where Comet can't get to her very easily).

I'm reading, the kids are off playing somewhere (not bothering me; that's the important part)... life is pretty darn good.

Then, suddenly, I hear Lizzie make this God-awful coughing noise, and I feel something warm and wet hit my back. The dog puked on me.... Dog puke. ON me. Without a doubt, the nastiest thing I've ever experienced in my 32.5 years of life.

I can guarantee you've never seen a person jump up and remove her shirt as quickly as I did yesterday after being spat upon by that vile creature.

I'm still having flashbacks. *shudder*

Seven years

Seven years ago, I knew exactly what I was doing... what I was "getting myself into."
Today, I realize I had no clue.

Seven years ago, I repeated those infamous vows with no doubt that it would be easy to keep my promises.
Today, I know that promises are sometimes hard to keep... but that everyone deserves a second chance.

Seven years ago, I thought I was marrying my best friend.
Today, I realize I barely knew the man I married... but I've learned a lot in 7 years (and so has he).

Seven years ago, we went on a honeymoon and spoiled ourselves silly with indulgences galore.
Today, it's business as usual around here... we'll work, cook, clean, walk the dogs, bathe our gorgeous kids, and fall into bed exhausted (but content) at the end of the day.

Seven years ago and today do have some things in common---on both days I felt like the luckiest girl alive and knew we had something special that could, in fact, last a lifetime. I believe that I loved you just as much then as I do now, only now I might have a better understanding of what that means. And I always knew, from Day One, that a life with you by my side would be anything but dull... you haven't disappointed me so far!

Today, I know that the adventure is still just beginning... seven years is nothing in the big scheme of things. I have no idea what the future will hold, only that you'll be by my side, no matter what. I know that I'll love you just as much 50 years from now as I did on that hot, August day... seven years ago.

Happy Anniversary, Witschey... I'm still "very fond of you."

Playing in the Rain

One afternoon last week, I took these pics of the kids enjoying yet another summer storm. We had been outside playing and it was gorgeous and sunny. Then, it started to sprinkle... and I thought, "okay, I'll let the kids play around in the sprinkles for a while..."Then, it started to POUR. And they went from damp to soaked to the bone in about two seconds. I just stayed on the porch, snapping pics of them acting like total fools out there in the rain. They had a blast!

And, poor Lizzie... She had been tied up outside on her runner before it started raining. And I guess I kinda forgot about her. She was plastered up against the front door, shivering, and I'm sure she was thinking, "can't we go in now?!?!" She's such a sorry excuse for a dog...

If at first you don't succeed...

Today I'm revisiting an old topic...

In this blog post from last year, I was super proud of myself for creating a "daily schedule" for our family. And in that post I reported that Day One of our new schedule was a success. If I remember correctly, Days Two and Three weren't too shabby either. But, at some point, the schedule fell by the wayside (I know, it's shocking, isn't it??).

And lately I've found myself mega-stressed more often than not because I'm totally overwhelmed with work, the kids, the house... and I always long for more "down time."

So, I decided to take a stab at the old schedule again. "Our Daily Schedule" has been hanging on the refrigerator for about a week now. The kids love to check it every hour and tell me what we're supposed to be doing. I can't say we've followed it perfectly for the past week, but every day is a new day... and we keep try, trying again!

*yawn*

It's 10am. I've only been awake for about 30 minutes, and I'm still yawning and trying to force my eyes to focus (as I inhale some Frosted Flakes with sliced banana, yummm).

I don't think I slept very well last night, even though I was in bed for, ohhhh, 11 hours or so (this is the part where I thank God my children aren't babies anymore!). I woke up this morning feeling like I'd been tossing and turning and restless all night. I do remember that I was dreaming a lot... thankfully, I can't remember what I was dreaming about, so you're spared (I know you were getting worried there for a minute, weren't you??).

So, I stumbled out of the bedroom, made a pitstop at the bathroom (which is the only reason I got out of bed in the first place... I could've stayed there a few more hours if my bladder hadn't insisted on waking me). Then, I walked to the kitchen, to find Damon rummaging for food. He was tediously trying to snap a bag of hot dogs back together... hot dogs. For breakfast. I paused for a second, thinking I should intervene and make the child eat something a little healthier and more breakfast-like... then I thought, ehhhh, hot dogs are good. *yawn*

A few minutes later, Avery stumbled out of bed. She stopped off at the kitchen FIRST (she has her priorities... food is at the top of Avery's list, always). She went for a loaf of bread... so I asked what she was doing and if I could help. She said she wanted a sandwich. For breakfast. Oh, and she was doing the pee pee dance all over the kitchen. I sent her to the bathroom and told her I'd get her something to eat. Avery ended up with a cheese sandwich. *yawn*

So, what's wrong with this picture? I have Frosted Flakes and banana for breakfast. Damon has hot dogs. Avery has a cheese sandwich. I'm a great mom.

One thing was obviously missing from our breakfast scene this morning... Daddy.

Daddy has turned into the food Nazi around here, and he never would have let the kids get away with eating hot dogs and cheese sandwich for breakfast. But he had to go to work for a few hours of overtime this morning (we really like the sound of "overtime" around here), and anyone who knows me knows how peppy I am before noon. So the kids ate what they wanted for breakfast.

I'm sure they'll survive. *yawn* And... Daddy should be home in time for lunch.

Sorry, Girls, he's taken (and so is his brother)!

This is what my dear husband did while I was working last night:

It's really hard to take a good picture of your feet (and I realize not many people would want to...), but he painted my nails red with a top layer of silver sparkly polish. I'm a lucky, sparkly girl!

Carnival Winner!

Geez, picking a random number is hard... even when you have random.org do all of the work for you! The first two random numbers were comments who didn't leave e-mail addresses or Web sites or anything. Bummer. If I can't figure out how to get ahold of you, then I can't exactly get the prize to you, right??

The third random number that was drawn was MY comment (and I knew no one would believe me if I said I won! lol).

So, finally, draw number four produced a real winner...

Congrats to The Pate Family! By my calculations (and, really, they're the only ones that matter), you were comment no. 47. Therefore, a brand new book of 20 "Forever" stamps will be on its way to you shortly!

Thanks to everyone who played along with my first ever Bloggy Giveaway Carnival. And special thanks to those of you who actually left me suggestions for my blog title... I loved reading your ideas! (I have chosen a new title, by the way... and I actually came up with it all on my own; I'm so proud! More on that at a later date!)

Okay, Dad, no more posts about the Carnival. It'll be business as usual around here from now on... at least for another 3 months!