New Toy

JG is the best at what he does.  That's why he won a new DSLR camera by Nikon for me to play with and take photos of

T-man and Ladybug.

Oh. And him, too.

I smell inspiration.

this isn't what you think

Okay, so I just counted. And between my last post two weeks ago and today... I have started and abandoned nine attempts. NINE. That's like... almost ten. So, you see. I have been trying. It's just that I've been surprisingly successful at other things lately. Like sewing and doing laundry. {Yes, you can be successful at doing laundry. Just smell ask my husband's underpants.} It was hard for me to find that feeling I get from blogging after finding it in other places recently. Where I usually sit down and hide from domestic responsibilities behind my laptop, those little places have provided an odd and comfortable mood. I disappeared for a while. Sam had Roseola this weekend, Ladybug had wayyy too much homework for a kindergartener, Jed was busy wearing bow-ties to work presentations and I was sitting back, watching and enjoying my family. Well. I didn't enjoy the speckled baby part, but the rest was nice. What I do want to say is thanks. For those of you who sent me emails and notes asking for another post. That was nice. I mean. I'm sure this isn't what you had in mind, but hopefully I can reassure you that I'll be back. Meaning. I'm not really back. I'm just letting you know I'm still alive. And stuff. This week I have to make valentines, cuddle babies, and make warm comfort food for my husband. When the sewing machine stops beckoning me and the dutch oven is empty, I may touch a little on these nearly substantial entries that almost made it up... 

T-man, A Biography 

Jumping Through Hoops for God 

News Flash: I'm Not Perfect 

My Jen is Better than YOUR Jen

Fest Briends

and 

The Puked Poop Puke (because it's just not like me to omit this story)

I know. I'm all over the place.  Just another reason for me to go back into hiding for a bit until I get myself together.  But... I have asked JG if he'd like to be a "guest" and write a little something to toss-up here in the interim. I've promised not to correct his grammar and only kept a few topics off limits.  Trust me- you don't want to know.  {he has like NO limits} 

So. This is the end for now.  Maybe you'll come back in a few days to find I have become bored with domesticities (so-so-dictionary word) and slathered my blog with some more shtick once again.  Until then...

sure, i'll watch your kid. right after i swing by the pharmacy and pick up my post-partum depression pills

For the past few days I have been clicking my blog link here and there just to see the sweet photo of JG staring at my earwax shooting love lasers into my head.  I know you all are sickened by the off chances I post something completely out of character and not at all cynical.  So, "good" things must come to an end and to erase the memory of the lovey-dovey syrup-sticky stuff I posted about my husband and love... here's some real shit for ya.

today ladybug said, {do monsters exist or are they just pretend}

and i said, {just pretend}

and t-man said, {no, they exist if god makes them exist}

and i said, {but who makes god exist}

and then it was quiet.

later they were playing in the driveway with the nutty kid from the cul-de-sac and they came inside because they heard a noise and got scared.

and i was like, {that's just other kids.}

and they were like, {but they're cry-ing}

and i was like, {that's because god made monsters exist and the monsters are eating them}

then i closed the door to the garage and came back in here to blog this.

Who says I'm not maternal? 

Thank you, Jen.

It's not always obvious how much love is shared between two people.  Love doesn't always stand akimbo atop the spire of a tall building with it's cape aloft in the wind.   Sometimes it is just beneath a gossamer layer of the expected.  Often in waiting, love's decision to disclose is just a whisper in a chaotic room.

And if you're lucky. Someone else is watching. 

                                         

with a camera

...not without my broadsword!

I have a long weekend ahead of me.  Ladybug only had three days of school this week with the MLK birthday and a teacher work day today.  I am looking forward to spending some time with my sis-in-law, Jens and her two doll-faces who are visiting from Jacksonville this weekend.  Hoping to squish a little big-girl fun in with her since we don't ever {ever} do that.

Since I may not get back here during the next few days, I thought I'd leave you with a little of what I think I might start calling:  

Kindergarten Wisdom: Tales from the Backseat {seat seat seat}

T-Man: We got our marble party today.

Ladybug: No, fair! We get ours in 100 days...wait. Ten days. 

T-Man: 100 days! That's like one million. 

Ladybug: No, I meant ten. In ten days it will be 100 days of marbles.

Me: Um. Tell me about these marbles.

T-man: When you do good things you get a marble for the class and then when you get a full jar of marbles you get a party.
Me: Do you ever lose marbles? Because that happens to me all the time...

Ladybug: What did you have for your party? We voted for popsicles.

T-man: Hot coco. It was soooo good. Mine had ten marsh-

Ladybug: shhhhhhhhh! T... listen. Do you hear that?

T-man: What? I don't hear anything.

Ladybug: Is someone....wait...is someone...sword-fighting?

   At this point it is important for me to describe the look of seriousness/confusion on my child's face when I looked in the rear-view mirror.  Think of the face you made when you heard about Obama's Peace Prize.....{continue}. 
T-man: Oh, yeah. I hear it. Where are they, though?

Me: I think you hear the guys hammering that stuff on the side of the road. It sounds sort of like sword fighting.

T-man: {deflated} Oh, yeah. That is what it is.

Ladybug: Ohhhhhh.

  {long, sad pause}

Ladybug: Sword-fighting would've been better.

Hope your weekend's super... 

every body's doin it, doin it doin it.

Do you ever get those brilliant ideas that are so fantastic they blow your mind, but you can't tell anyone because you're going to be so incredibly famous and rich when you finally figure out how to {make it happen} and you're too greedy to share the wealth?

Yeah. Well. I do. And I can't tell you. But be nice to me because you're going to have your mind blown and you're going to want to tell everyone you knew me when I was just a blogger and not really famous at all {yet}.

Trust me on this one.

So, since I can't tell you about *that* I'll just have to blog about something less fantastic and be quasi-satisfied with whatever comes out.

See. Now everything I start to write about it crap compared to the best idea in the world and I soooo want to tell you about it, but you're the kind of person who will totally steal my fame and glory {you know who you are} and not give me any credit at all and then you'll be a star and I'll be just a blogger still who used to have a good blog but then her dreams were crushed and now she's a washup writing posts about dog-poop and baby boogers.

Oh, speaking of baby boogers....

Sam had a good large one the other day. It was of the "flapper" variety and kept getting sucked in and out of his nostril when he breathed. And it went really fast when he laughed. And Cadence and I thought it was awesome, but then I picked it and something MORE amazing/disgusting happened.

It fell onto his tongue. And he ate it. I KNOW.

I used my pinky to pluck it from his tiny nose-hole and the breeze from the fan blew it off of my finger and into his open, laughing mouth and it stuck to his tongue. I panicked and then tried to use the clean pinky on my other hand to get it off his tongue, but he just clamped right down on my digit and smiled. And Ladybug was pee-your-pants laughing and I was saying "baby, baby, baby" trying to get him to open his mouth, but when he finally did it was to chew the booger.

JG got out of the shower and we were peeing-pants laughing and he wanted to know what was so funny and I was kind of worried he might get mad at me for accidentally flicking a booger into Sam's mouth, but I took the chance and told him anyway. And he was all, "ew...hahahahaha" and then he peed-his-pants laughed and it lasted for a few minutes that way with all of us peeing-pants and then Sam really did pee his pants and the fun was over.

But it was a good story.

Speaking of good stories, I have a great idea for this story about a guy who has a pot-bellied pig who he *thinks* dialed 911 to save his life while he was having a heart attack. I have to write the story and you'll have to read it to know who really saved his life.

Spoiler alert: It was not the pig.

If you're feeling I screwed you out of a decent blog post today, go here and thank me later. But only go there if you enjoy gratuitous use of the eff word. You know who you are.

Photo Phriday.

Sammy-G: 

Now with enough hair to get bed-head.

Happy Friday!