Are You Ready For Some Football?

And no, I don't mean professional football with all of it's wealthy, ego-inflated baboons, running around thinking too much of themselves.

I'm talkin' 'bout COLLEGE FOOTBALL!!! The ONLY football that matters!

Oh yes, my dear friends and fans, college football season has begun! And today is the first Saturday of many where Monk and I will pile up on the couch, eating way too much chips and salsa and give out a little "Woot-woot" for our beloved teams.

We dearly love us some good, old fashioned college football!

So pardon me while I go clean up like a maniac so we can spend the afternoon vegging with our team(s).

Oh, by the way, if you go to Chick-Fil-A on Monday, wearing a shirt or jersey with your favorite football team's logo, they will give you a FREE 3 piece chicken strip. Oh yes, give me an amen! Our family will be representing 3 different teams on Monday and I'll have pictures to prove it!

Have a great weekend and blessed Lord's day everyone!

Candy, Coke and Family Worship

One of the greatest advantages to having Monk work out of the house is that it allows us to have our family worship time during lunch. It's nothing grand and glorious, just a few simple hymns, a short devotional and prayer. Ten to fifteen minutes and we're done.

Monk has recently been doing a short, little people friendly devotional from a book called The Peep of Day. It's a very old devotional, that Monk actually has to modernize at certain points, that has wonderful, simple lessons for children.

Recent lessons have been on the family. Today he was talking about our souls. Pretty deep stuff for an 8 year and 5 year old. We talked about animals and how they are not like us and how we were made in God's image. Simply put...we have souls and the animals do not. Then he talked about how when we die our bodies are just a shell that is left behind, but that our soul would live forever - this being how God made us different from the animals.

As we were discussing this, the subject of death and dying kept getting brought up. This obviously distressed our little Liv as she loudly and abruptly said,

"Can't we just talk about candy?!"

Well, after the laughter died down about that one, we continued on. Monk began asking them ways that our bodies were different from the animals. He then asked what our bodies were made out of - the answer being dust. I then went on to say that our bodies were made up of about 70% water too.

This is where Sis chimed in and said enthusiastically,

"And Coke too!"

Ah well, apparently Momma has been consuming a little too much of the banned substance lately. A genetic anomaly that has been passed on to all of my daughters. Go figure.

A little candy. A little Coke. And some solid theology doesn't make for a bad lunch hour though.

His Girl

To My Knees

I have been driven many times upon my knees by the overwhelming conviction that I had nowhere else to go.

~Abraham Lincoln

Don't hear many presidents or presidential candidates saying profound things like that these days, huh? I have written three different posts to go along with this quote and have deleted them all. I guess the quote should stand alone. I know it's speaking volumes to me right now.

Oh, and I think I'll share one of my all time favorite songs by one of my most favorite groups - Selah.

It's Coming

Fall, that is. Undeniably my most favorite time of the year.

I love the colors, the smells, the tastes, the weather ~ everything. Here in Texas, the Fall is not remotely close to the Falls I experienced while growing up in Michigan. Up there we had significant weather changes with warm days and cool, brisk evenings. The foliage was fantastic, with colors that were breathtakingly beautiful.

In Texas? Not so much.

My heart rarely yearns for Michigan as I've lived in Texas for over half my life now. But twenty-one years later, my heart always begins to ache this time of year. I become restless and always talk about moving somewhere in between, where seasons exist and the trees change colors rather than going from green to brown and stark overnight.

But alas, I'm here and despite the fact that the temperatures are still topping out in the the upper 90's, I have Fall on the brain. Apparently my heart knows it's becoming Fall despite what my eyes see and my sweat glands feel and..uh..excrete.

Because of this weird season knowing anomaly my brain and body have, my gut starts telling me to bake. A lot.

And so it has begun. The season of muffin making and sweet bread baking has arrived. In full force. In the last week I've made two different muffin recipes, much to the delight of my entire family. And since I'm all warm (sweaty?) and fuzzy feeling right now, I want to share them with you. And 'cause I know if I show y'all the pictures, you'll want the recipes anyway. At least I would. Because I'm a sucker for a good muffin recipe.

The first recipe is for Pumpkin Chocolate Chip Muffins. I got the basic recipe out of a magazine called Through The Country Door. Oooooo, it's just chocked full of beautiful Fall stuff! Anyway, it was a Pumpkin Bread recipe and I altered it here and there to my own liking, but it could still be made as a bread rather than muffins.

Chocolate Chip Pumpkin Muffins

2c. flour
1 1/2 c. sugar
1 c. whole wheat flour
1/2 c. brown sugar
2 tsp. pumpkin pie spice (or a little more if you spicier, like me)
1/2 tsp. salt
2 tsp. baking powder
1/2 tsp. baking soda
2 eggs
15 oz canned pumpkin
1/2 c. vegetable oil (I use organic coconut oil)
1/2 c. water
1 tsp. vanilla
1-2 cups chocolate chips (how much chocolatey goodness do you like? or you could do nuts too)

Preheat oven to 350 degrees. Combine dry ingredients; set aside. In another bowl, stir together the eggs, brown sugar, pumpkin, oil, water and vanilla; mix well. Stir into the dry ingredients just until moistened. Fold in chocolate chips. Fill muffin cups until a little over 2/3 full. Bake 20-25 minutes depending on your oven. Cool completely. This will make 2 dozen muffins.

The second recipe is from a blog I read, The Homespun Heart. Carrie is an incredibly crafty and is always posting creative ideas and yummy recipes and this one is no different. Her Fresh Apple Muffin recipe was simply delicious. A hearty, rustic recipe that is moist, delicious and easy.

Fresh Apple Muffins

1 c. flour ( I used half all-purpose flour and half whole wheat)
1 tsp. cinnamon
1 tsp. baking soda
1 egg
1/2 c. oil ( I used organic coconut oil)
1/2 c. sugar
1/2 tsp. vanilla
2 c. chopped apple
1/2 c. chopped nuts ( I omitted these as some picky ones won't eat them)

Combine all ingredients and spoon into prepared muffin tins. Bake at 350 for 15-20 minutes or until toothpick inserted comes out clean. Makes: one dozen muffins

I will say that this one is a little crumbly. I'm not sure if it was just my batch or what. I would say it's not an on-the-go muffin, but one that needs to stay at the table. The batter is also surprisingly thick, so don't let that shock you. The pieces of apple taste wonderful and just make this recipe awesome!

Okay, and there you have my little peek at Fall baking. I'm not very inspiring most of the time, but I hope this post encourages you to pull out Ye Olde Apron and some muffin pans and whip up some good ol' muffins. Enjoy!

p.s. just in case you're wondering...I didn't do Devil Yoga this week. I had an honest to goodness excuse. The Boy and Madgirl needed some things for school and I, being the wonderful mother that I am, had to oblige. I will grudgingly return next week though, to inflict a little more torture on myself.

Homeschooling the 5 Year Old

So during our homeschool this morning I had Liv writing out her numbers 1-5 as practice. She has watched her left-handed older sister write so much that she makes EVERYTHING like a lefty. We were struggling to say the least.

Since Liv can be bribed with praise (and rope and handcuffs), I was telling her what a great job she was doing. Her efforts were greatly increased by my encouragement and she began giving me a play by play after writing every number.

After making one particular number 5, she looked up, wide-eyed with excitement and exclaimed,

"Look, Momma! It's a pregnant 5! It's going to have little baby 5's!"

Betcha can't tell she's got a pregnant mom, huh?

Someone.

Someone is feeling much, much better.

Someone no longer has little pink spots.

Someone is no longer filling toxic diapers.

Someone is a little spoiled from last week's attention.

Someone deprived Momma of lots of sleep.

Someone wants Momma to hold her and cuddle her and play with her...ALL DAY LONG.

Someone has been getting her way a little too much.

Someone has become a Momma's Girl.

Someone has made me thankful to God for His continual blessings.

Someone has stolen my heart.

Someone is just plain cute.

Whose your someone this week?

All Is Well. Mostly.

Just wanted to let y'all know that my Baby Girl's fever broke last night and today the lovely, little, pink spots arrived. My keen momma instincts were correct and I made the Roseola call 3 days early.

Oh yeah. I'm good.

And as I told Monk today... one childhood illness down...countless more to go! Woo-hoo! Me so likes it when these little things are done and OVER!

However, my little Hope not only had a little feverish Roseola going on, but added a nice little side of intestinal virus. Oh, yes. Fun days we've had around here people. Fun, smelly days.

I was so relieved that her fever broke yesterday afternoon. She had perked up ever so slightly and we saw a glimmer of our normal, mostly happy-go-lucky little girl. Ah yes, happiness at last. And some sleep to boot. I was stoked. Especially about the sleep.

And then there was me. I had to go and mess it all up.

I had eaten a chicken tender salad for dinner and followed it up with a mini chocolate bar chaser. I was completely and totally content.

And then I got gluttonous.

Right before bed I came up with a bright idea of consuming the last of 6 old, glazed donuts I had purchased in a moment of utter weakness. For my children, of course. And Monk.

Anyway, that last donut was calling my name and who was I not to answer? I obediently answered its beckoning and consumed that sticky circle of sin and went to bed a happy, slightly diabetic woman.

Until around 3:15 a.m.

That is when stomach cramping of laborish proportions awakened me. Stomach cramps and horrible, horrible indigestion. The kind of indigestion that says, "if you move, I will make you throw up". I laid in bed and writhed in pain and then decided I had to find a Tums if there was any way I was going to sleep again.

I tumbled out of bed and stumbled to the kitchen (hey, isn't that a song?) and began looking desperately for the Tums, begging the Lord to please not let me throw up. I looked and looked and still couldn't find them. Being that the situation was becoming desperate, I woke up Monk.

By this time I was moaning profusely and assuming laboresque positions, trying to find some relief from the wretched intestinal cramping I was experiencing. The yoga teacher would have been SO proud of my breathing! Monk then assumed the job of finding the Tums, but not before offering me a Rolaids.

Uh, no. Rolaids are no match for Tums, my friends.

After he looked and looked and looked some more, he came back in the bedroom offering to go to Walgreens to buy me some more. Can y'all believe that? My hubby was going to drive to Walgreens at 3:30 in the morning to buy his sick, pregnant wife some Tums. Man, he's awesome!

But folks, the Tums train had already left the station and I was beyond Tums at this point. I acquiesced and finally agreed to a Rolaids.

And the Rolaids done me wrong! Oh, yes they did!

It was at this moment that I grabbed my mouth and ran for the bathroom. Can you guess what happened next? If you guessed I barfed my guts out then you, my friends, are a pretty astute bunch because that's exactly what I did.

All because of a wretched, stale donut.

Believe it or not, I felt relatively better after this episode. Minus the excruciating intestinal cramping, of course. Which in time, finally subsided. It was now after 4 am and I happily, willingly and exhaustedly went back to sleep.

Today, I've felt a little...eh. Still exhausted and still crampy. I most definitely am not craving donuts anymore. The fact that Baby Girl passed her nasty, little intestinal germ on to me matters little. She is better and that is what is important. And she's smiling her dimpled smile which makes me feel better.

All in all, despite fevers, crying, cramping, spots, vomiting and lack of sleep....it's been a pretty good week.

Y'all have a great weekend!

Plumb Wornout

That would be me. And Hope.

We've had a very sick baby for 3 full days now and no diagnosis (we were at the doc's today). Fevers of over 103 periodically and lots of crying. I'm wondering if we've got a little Roseola going on here or if it's something more. Hmmm... We should know by tomorrow, if so.

If not, we may be heading back to the doctor.

I need me some Calgon right about now.

The Devil Yoga Update - Week 4

May I just say, not much has changed. I hate prenatal yoga. With a passion.

No, no, don't try to dissuade me from my decision. I truly hate it with every fiber in my whole, entire, cotton-pickin' being.

First, a few tips for the novice yoga-ee yoga-ite yogi bear yoga student.

1. One may not expect one's yoga class to be calm and soothing when one arrives suffering from all manner of Road Rage due to the ignoramus drivers that inhabit Texas roadways.

2. One should never eat Mexican food TWICE in two days before ANY yoga class. This produces a very unnatural chi. I'm just sayin'.

3. One should never wear undies that have shot elastic in the legs. One will achieve an atomic wedgie of magnanimous proportions. This is certain, my friends.

It didn't help that I arrived to my class almost 10 minutes late due to rain and moronic drivers. I walked in, interrupting the class of course, and was immediately mortified by the fact that I was late. This is not conducive to relaxing and finding my cool breath, I can tell you that for sure!

The class itself was not so bad this week. We focused on a lot of breathing. I've been doing that for the last 39 years, so it was pretty much a no-brainer for me. And it didn't involve squatting.

But I was rebel at certain points. Oh yes, I was.

I would NOT close my eyes under any circumstances! Nope. I'm just wouldn't do it.

I realize it is an exercise in focusing. I get it. I do. And I realize that focusing is an ESSENTIAL part of labor and giving birth. I've done it a few times and I know this. I had to focus my hiney off while in labor with Hope. It was that or die. I even CLOSE MY EYES to focus when in labor.

But I can't do it in a room full of strangers. So, I just look at the floor and hope the nice yoga lady thinks I'm closing my eyes and doesn't see me for the rebel that I am.

But the fact remained, through the entirety of the class, that I just didn't want to be there. I wasn't enjoying it, I wasn't relaxing and I hoped and prayed that we wouldn't squat or do the Goddess pose.

At the end of the class the nice yoga lady does this exercise in focus. She asks us to sit cross legged, with our eyes closed (ack!) while breathing slowly. On the inhale we are supposed to count one, exhale two, inhale three, exhale 4, etc... Get it? The catch is that while we are doing all of this breathing we have to keep our minds empty. The goal is to count to ten without having any other thoughts, but those of concentrated breathing.

If some stray thought does come into your mind (other than breathing) you are supposed to start over at one again. The point is to train your mind to concentrate on nothing other than breathing so that during labor you will be able to concentrate on your breath and not the pain.

Easy enough, right?

Guess what number I made it to?

One.

Yep. Every time it was the same...it went something like this:

Breath in....One

Breath out....oh man, this piece of pork in my tooth is killing me!

Start over.

Breath in...One

Breath out...I hope Monk saved me some avocado.

Dang!

Start over.

Breath in...One

Breath out...I wonder if I look pregnant or just fat when I'm sitting like this?

I kid you not. These were actual thoughts I had during this exercise tonight! I am, in fact, a prenatal yoga failure, y'all!

My ADD tendencies will not allow me to find my cool breath and that makes me sad. Or not.

Give me a swimming pool, give me a softball bat, give me a ping pong paddle, but for the love of all that is good and right, don't make me sit cross legged, telling me to close my eyes and breath!

So after class I told my chiropractor and friend, C. that I wasn't going to come back. Ever.

She laughed and told me that's what I say every time. She was right.

What's so sad is that I hate quitters almost as much as I hate prenatal yoga, so this is going to be a tough decision for me.

Hi. My name is Michelle. I'm a quitter.

Recovering From the Weekend

Wow, y'all. Two great weekends in a row! I think I might have a life!

You know how last weekend was mostly spent at home? This weekend was the opposite of last! Oh my word, the running around we did!

In Texas, we have what we call Tax-Free Weekend. It is a psychotic weekend where there is no tax on clothing, backpacks and diapers. In order to survive this weekend you have to either be desperate or completely insane. I'm not desperate so guess where that leaves me?

Tax-free weekend is how I started Friday. Me and the Madgirl (along with Hope) ventured out for a morning of power shopping. Thankfully we were only at Old Navy because the mall was a veritable MAD HOUSE! A few hours later and significantly poorer, we arrived home.

This is when I found out I had been invited to a lingerie shower for a friend of mine. For Friday night. As in- THAT night. So guess where I had to go? Yep. The Mall. Hell on earth.

I survived another two hour outing, getting home in just enough time to whip up a quick, non-exciting dinner and jump in the shower. I walked out the door with no time to spare.

May I just tell y'all I had an absolute BALL on Friday night! I laughed and smiled so much my cheeks hurt by the time I left. In my book, that's a sure sign of a bona fide good time. And might I say it's been a long time since my face has hurt from smiling and laughing. Laughter IS the best medicine!

Saturday was another whirlwind of activity. After some errands (which involved yet ANOTHER trip to Old Navy), a trip to Target, and a jaunt at the playground, we headed out to celebrate family birthday's with Monk's family. We laughed, stuffed ourselves with Mexican food and exchanged gifts and funny cards.

My sisters-in-law always spoil my girls and came bearing gifts for them even though it was nowhere near their birthdays. One gift in particular was especially disturbing though.

Handcuffs. Metal ones.

Olivia's eyes lit up like the 4th of July. I'm sure this was one of my SIL's evil plots to obtain more interesting blog fodder from me. Little Liv is the family psycho (and I mean that lovingly) and they totally love and dig her fetish for rope and tying up things and people. Monk and I are sleeping with one eye open.

After arriving home around 5pm, we thought we would be settling in for a quiet evening. Boy, were we wrong! We got a phone call from some friends inviting us to a movie. Us? The parents of 5, almost 6, were getting invited out by other adults, to a movie, that didn't involve animation or talking animals! We jumped on the invite and got the kids settled and headed out the door again.

Oh my goodness, what a fun time! We went to a movie and then hung out talking and drinking coffee (or chai tea for me) at Starbucks until almost MIDNIGHT! Us! Me and Monk! Are we becoming hip, or what? All I know is we had a great time and smiling and laughing occurred frequently throughout the evening.

Our weekend ended as it should. Worshipping and resting. We visited another church and found our hearts filled and challenged with their worship service. We heard a sermon that was Providentially challenging in its timing and content and blessed Monk and I tremendously. We spent the rest of the afternoon resting and enjoying one another's company. Can't get much better than that, folks.

I need the week to start so I can catch up on my sleep! We will be starting our homeschooling this week, so I don't see the whirlwind stopping any time soon.

But life is good these days and you can't ask for much more than that.

Water Baby

There's nothing that's much cuter than an impromptu splash in the water.




















She shares her mother's big hair gene















Perhaps her Moses imitation















Have a great weekend y'all! This is our last one before hittin' the books!

We Bought A Harley

Oh, yes we did!

Why?

Because we are awesome, of course!

It's a gorgeous brown color with TONS of get up and go. Plus, it was only a year old and a great deal. The kids we're thrilled when it pulled up!

Wanna see?

Ready?

Meet Harley. The newest member of the Monk clan. (Oooo, and don't you love the dead Texas grass as a lovely background?)















What?

Did you think we bought one of those Harley's?

Puhleeze, people. We know we are hip and cool in our middle agedness and all, but let's face it....we're not that hip and cool.

Plus, we have this thing we do called eating. We'd like to be able to afford to keep doing it if at all possible.

But isn't he a doll? He's a 100 pounds of slobbering, hyperactive sweetness! And his tongue! Oh my word! It's so big it could feed a small third world country!

More to come on Harley's story and I'm sure plenty of pictures to follow, but for now I need to go keep the 25 pound cat from killing the 100 pound dog.

There's a pecking order around here and unfortunately, poor, ol' Harley is learning it the hard way from Fat Otis (the cat).

IT'S A......

BABY!!!!

Did you all really think I would tell you what we were having?? SO NOT!

Actually, we didn't find out...on purpose. We want to be surprised and relish in God's perfect plan for our family.

And if you really want to know the truth....we couldn't have found out if we wanted to. The little Corn Nut was in such a position that we COULDN'T find out. Not that we would have, but the sonographer told us it just wasn't possible.

HA! How's that for God's sense of humor! I love it!

But I am happy to report that the Corn Nut is doing absolutely fabulous! All its little organs and measurements are right on and where they need to be. And his/her little heart is chugging along at a beautiful 150 bpm.

My due date was also changed by 4 days! Earlier! Woo-hoo! I'll take a few days anywhere I can get them! The "official" due date now is December 6th. With my habit of going a little early I bet I can pull off a November baby!

I wanted to cry when I saw his/her little profile with its little fist drawn up by the forehead. It just makes me SO thankful for God's blessings.

And before I cry again, here's a little something for your viewing pleasure.

Our little guy/girl was in such a precarious position it made it hard to get a straight on face shot, but I thought this one was precious. Our first look at our little one's sweet face.

And sweet baby Hope's reaction to all of this? She pooped her pants.

300th Post!!

Can you believe it?? Today is my 300th post! Wow. I talk waaaay too much.

My 100th and 200th posts were kind of ...eh. I really didn't have much to talk about.

But today?

Today is good. You know why?

It's Monk's birthday today! And I think that celebrating my 300th post with my awesome hubby's birthday is great!

So here's a birthday post to him.

Dear Monk (my Schmoopy),
I am the happiest woman in the world! And you know why? You. You are loving and kind and
EVERYTHING I could have ever wanted in a husband and so much more than I ever dreamed! You have been my best friend, soulmate, lover, personal comic and confidante for the last 12 years. Easily, the happiest years of my life. Even though today is your birthday, I'm the one who got the gift. Spending the day with you.
Happy Birthday babe. I love you!

Okay, now you all can either quit crying or gagging or vomiting profusely and go about your business.

Go on now...

Nothing more here.

Non-Devil Yoga Update

Okay, I confess. I didn't go. Sorry if you were all sitting around with great anticipation, waiting for the next installment.

Yeah, right.

Anyway, I have a good excuse which I will share tomorrow. Ha! How's that for anticipation?!

If you feel so inclined you may read the first two posts here and here. They really are thrilling tales of pain and embarrassment.

Or for grins and giggles you can go look at this yoga pose. Or this one. How 'bout this one.

Oh, the yoga. It does frustrate me so.

The Bump. It Groweth.

23 weeks. That's it.

And look at the size of this thing!! All of a sudden it looks like I've swallowed a watermelon! Or my 1 year old! Or both!















How big will it get?
Nobody knows.
All I can say
Is I can't see my toes!

Oh man, my poetry skillz are just mad, people!

FYI - Tomorrow is the big sonogram. 2 pm CST. Post will follow. (Oooooh, Ahhhhh)

The Weekend of Great Excitement. Or Not.

Ah, yes. Weekends. Love'em or fear'em, we have them every week, regardless. These days I'm finding that I'm becoming more of a homebody than usual and loving the weekends with no plans. My reclusive behavior has come as a shock as some who know me (namely family members - as I have been known for my road running ways), but it has been welcome lifestyle change for me.

This weekend was full yet relaxing. And I mostly stayed home. This makes me smile.

It started on Friday when one of my best friends from college came over with her three great kids. We always have such a good time together and this time it was no different. Our kids play SO well together and they had an absolute ball swimming and playing on the new stellar swing set.

There's something about getting together with friends you've known and loved for over 20 years. It doesn't matter how much time has passed since the last time you saw them, you just pick up right where you left off. It's that easy comfort that says you can relax and be yourself. That's how it is when Beck comes to visit. We just pick right up where we were the last time we visited. We laugh and reminisce and sometimes we cry on one anothers shoulders. It matters little what the subject is, all we know is that we are lifelong friends and that's what's important.

Unfortunately, I have NO pictures of this awesome day. Can you believe it? I know. I am so lame. I just got caught up in visiting and plain forgot.

However, I do have one picture of Hope's first major spill that happened while my friend was here. Hope tripped into the coffee table. The coffee table caught her....ON THE CORNER OF HER EYE!

It was a nice shade of purple of Friday. It's now a lovely green.










Beck and her kiddos left in the wee hours of Saturday morning and we took advantage of an opportunity to sleep in. However, the three little girls and Monk all woke up either stuffy, snotty or with a sore throat. Ugh.

But never fear, Momma whipped up some homemade blueberry waffles and that helped everyone feel a little better.

DEE-LISH!









We also started pumping the Echinacea and Vitamin C into everyone (including me!) to try and stop the germs from invading any further. Personally, I think there is nothing worse than a summer cold. Except a winter one.

Anyone else take pictures of their vitamins and herbs?









I also made a batch of chocolate chip cookies. 'Cause we all know a little chocolate goes a long way in making us feel better.










Or maybe that's just me. And food in general.

I'd been wanting to get a pedicure since my birthday, but the opportunity hadn't presented itself. Until today. Monk told me to knock myself out and go get my tootsies some much needed R&R.

Ahhhh....nothing better than freshly pedicured feet. Honestly, I don't like feet, in general (except baby feet. nothing better than kissing baby feet). The fact that I'm posting a picture of my own is more than disturbing to me.










Then to top off the day, Monk treated me to some Outback Steakhouse. I totally crave steak in pregnancy and a good steak, cooked medium, makes this momma OH, SO HAPPY! We ordered Curb Side Takeout, so once again, I wouldn't have to get out.

This is not a bad thing y'all. It was 104 degrees here on Saturday. Not exactly balmy. And when you're a hormonally charged heater, carrying an extra person inside of you, it doesn't take long to decide if you want to get out in this inferno we call Texas.










I was a little bummed as my steak was too done. Monk's was too (of course, you could put a band-aid on his and send it back out to graze - he likes'em bleedin'). I called the restaurant and let the manager know that this was the second time this has happened. He was a great guy and comped us for two future entrees. Woo-hoo! More steak in my future!

Sunday was spent at home with my ailing hubby and kiddos. I was still the healthy one of the bunch and I'm hoping and praying that the arsenal of vitamins and herbs that I'm taking will keep the wicked germs at bay. I so totally HATE being pregnant with a cold.

And then Sunday evening we enjoyed whooping it up while watching the Men's 4 x 100 Swimming Relay. Oooo, I love nothing more when one team starts talkin' smack about another team and then they get their hiney's spanked. My condolences to the French. HA!

Except Mr. Michael Phelps needed to pull his britches up!! Boy!!

And the evening ended by Monk and I cracking up at our sweet little Hope entertaining us by playing Peek-a-Boo with her pink blankie. I swear we yelled Peek-a-Boo 4 or 47 times!

And that, my friends, sums up the really great weekend around here.

Anybody do anything more exciting that eat overdone steak and get their toes painted?

Our Only Savior

Isaiah 43: 1-7

43:1 But now thus says the Lord,
he who created you, O Jacob,
he who formed you, O Israel:
“Fear not, for I have redeemed you;
I have called you by name, you are mine.

2 When you pass through the waters, I will be with you;
and through the rivers, they shall not overwhelm you;
when you walk through fire you shall not be burned,
and the flame shall not consume you.

3 For I am the Lord your God,
the Holy One of Israel, your Savior.
I give Egypt as your ransom,
Cush and Seba in exchange for you.

4 Because you are precious in my eyes,
and honored, and I love you,
I give men in return for you,
peoples in exchange for your life.

5 Fear not, for I am with you;
I will bring your offspring from the east,
and from the west I will gather you.

6 I will say to the north, Give up,
and to the south, Do not withhold;
bring my sons from afar
and my daughters from the end of the earth,

7 everyone who is called by my name,
whom I created for my glory,
whom I formed and made.”

So, It's Been One of Those Days...

Ever had one? Days where you're in a funk. It doesn't matter what you do or try to do, nothing seems to get done.

Oi.

Today has been one of those days.

I have a good friend from college coming over tomorrow with her three kiddos. The house has been abuzz with excitement! Yet today, I've been in slow motion. Absolutely nothing has been accomplished. Except for Monk cleaning out the pool for the kids to swim in tomorrow. The man always gets his work done. But me? Eh.

I took Madgirl to the dentist at noon and after I returned home I laid down and took and hour and a half nap with Hope. That was my contribution for the day. I haven't been taking my pre-natal vitamins, B-vitamins or fish oils very regular the last few days...er..weeks and I'm thinking that could be some of the issue.

Even my little Hope has been in a funk today - not her usual good natured self. She screamed and cried for an hour this afternoon for no other apparent reason than she just needed to vent. Sheesh, the girl turns one and already with the hormones!

My poor Monk. This baby really needs to be a boy so he will have an ally, a comrade, someone with which to share his man cave. Well, when he gets a man cave ,that is.


This picture would pretty much sum up how I feel this evening. You know the feeling...all stressed out and no one to choke.

Oh, and this would also be a different style to my new do. This is my straight and sassy look. It's a little time consuming with the flat iron and all, but I can get a lot of mileage out of this one once it's straight. As in no muss, no fuss. And no more looking like a cocker spaniel.

So there you have it. A post chocked full of content and excitement. I never cease to amaze the masses, do I?

Another Liv-ism

So were sitting at the table eating our breakfast the other day when Liv states to Sis that she'd had a dream.

Now Sis is all about a good dream, y'all. Especially if it's dramatic and all. She inquires of Liv to please tell her of this dream. Liv, sensing the anticipation of giddiness in Sis's voice at the prospect of a grand story, simply says, "no".

This sends Sis into all sorts of begging and pleading which Liv follows with, "nope", uh-uh", "no way" and every other way Liv can communicate the negatory. She's obviously receiving great pleasure from it as well.

Sis, understanding who she is dealing with, pulls out the big guns. She says to Liv, "I'll let you hit me".

(insert crickets chirping here)

This phrase nearly made me choke on my granola. This girl went in for the kill! If you only knew what a wimp delicate flower Sis is when it comes to the area of pain you would understand JUST HOW BIG this was for her to say. The girl was desperate to know the dream.

At this point, I've been sucked into this drama and I've now looked up from my granola as if it were some school yard "triple dog dare", just to see what Liv's response will be. For we all know that she is the queen of torture techniques and would be just slap silly stupid to give up an opportunity to hit someone WITH permission.

She pauses. Perplexed for only a moment and then says,

" Can I pinch you instead?"

"On the cheek?"

Yep. The girl knows what she wants. Even when it comes to her method of torture.

The Devil Yoga Update - Week 3

*Warning: to any male readership I might have, other than Monk, of course, this post is a little personal. Proceed with reckless abandon if you wish, but don't say you twern't warned.

So last night was another devil yoga class. On Sunday I was convinced I was not going to attend. I told myself I didn't need this kind of grief in my life. Sheesh, life is hard enough without letting yoga stress you out.

And isn't that a little ironic?

The thing that is supposed to make me calm only makes me break out in a sweat and well up with fear and dread. And sometimes giggles. Especially when the nice yoga lady talks about finding our cool breath. It was a 106 degrees here yesterday - I figure the only way I'm gonna find my cool breath is by eatin' a snow cone under the ceiling fan with my feet in a bucket of ice water. That or find those nice people from the Mentos commercials - they have cool breath too.

I've also figured out that I'm a yoga dyslexic.

Most people when doing yoga are trying to find their inner peace. Me? I'm trying to keep my pee(ce) inner. Go figure.

Last night we were cruising along with the inhaling, exhaling, the closing of the eyes (why oh, WHY must we close our eyes?? Apparently I have an eye closing phobia of some strange sort because I just DON'T like it!) and I was thinking positive thoughts. "I can do this. I can breath like this. Ooo dang, I want some pizza." Well okay, most of my thoughts were centered.

Anyway, not long after the breathing and my pizza craving the nice yoga lady then said a word that struck fear into my very non-yoga loving heart.

SQUAT.

What? Did she say squat? I panicked. Fear welled up in me and I debated fleeing from the room or faking a contraction. If I thought the Goddess pose was bad, a squat would seal my fate for the incontinent woman that I am, for sure.

You see y'all, after birthing 5 children things are not the same.

Ahem.

Things in the nether regions. The old girl ain't what she used to be. There is a reason women are instructed to do their Kegel exercises. If you do not, I promise you your pelvic floor will fall in. G'head, ask me how I know.

My midwife is aware of my little problemo and has me working on it. I also confided in the nice yoga lady who assured me we could modify some of the poses and exercises and such until sufficient strengthening was attained.

So, I'm not sure if what came next was highly comical or possibly the most humiliating experience of my entire life.

She tells the whole class to squat (to which I had I already decided that there was NO WAY ON GOD'S GREEN EARTH I WAS GOING TO DO) and then proceeds to turn and look at me and say, "Except you. I have something else for you."

Do y'all remember back in 4th grade when there was one strange kid in class who couldn't eat chocolate, for whatever reason it was, and the teacher makes some weird, special provision for him and next thing you know the whole class is eyeballing him like he's some freak?

Well, last night the freak was me.

The whooole class is now staring holes through me the size of yoga balls. And me? I'm ready to die on the spot. So what do I do? I say something stupid, of which I will not repeat lest I humiliate myself further. Because, you know, I'm so sharp at thinking on my feet and all. Let's just say I referred to bed pans. 'Nuff said?

Then, right before the whole class, a "special provision" is made for me and my squatting issue! And I am to try it out right there in front of them! I swear to you it was like having to give birth in front of strangers! M-O-R-T-I-F-I-E-D. I succumbed to my humiliation and was pleasantly surprised though. For no sooner had I assumed the position, than I realized that I liked the position!

It didn't hurt my back, knees, elbows, wrists, feet, backside, calves, thighs or any other body part! In fact, it was the most comfortable, non-pretzel producing yoga position I've been in in 3 weeks. And I said so. So my humiliation was for naught. Do you all know what this means?

I like A yoga position!!!

Well butter my buns and call me a biscuit....there might be hope for me yet!

A Good Match, Eh?

...these silver shoes from Target...



















...to go with this tunic. Whada ya think?
















It was love at first sight for me.

And they lived happily ever after.

The end.

21 Weeks

And so I attempted another belly photo. Not as bad as the first, but most definitely not the best.




















I can tell things are getting bigger as it's getting harder to get out of bed. I know the next few weeks will bring even more changes and that is always exciting.

I'm feeling the baby move more and more which never ceases to amaze me. It is simply a miracle. Only a week and a half until the sonogram! Woo-hoo!

I am blessed.

It's Cute. It's Sassy. Then Why Do I Hate It So?

I can feel the brain cells leaking from my body. For some reason, when I'm pregnant I tend to do stupid things. With my hair.

I had been wearing my hair a la ponytail -bun thingy on a regular basis because I couldn't stand wearing it down in the heat. With temperatures 100+ degrees day after day after day after day (need I continue?), I was getting tired of it feeling like someone was constantly breathing their hot breath down the back of my neck. But the ponytail -bun thingy gives me headaches and it just wasn't attractive y'all. Not attractive at all.

I was a hot, desperate woman.

I called the hair dresser to save me from my purgatory. Hallelujah, she had a cancellation yesterday and got me right in! I was going to have hair relief in a matter of hours.

All I wanted was a few inches off. A simple bob style that hung AT MY SHOULDERS. When sitting in the chair discussing my hair options I used my hands to show exactly where my shoulders were. Many times. Many, many, many times. I emphasized my shoulders - A LOT! I specifically said, "I still want to be able to pull it back". Do you think I was clear enough?

Well, apparently I have no ability to communicate in the English language.

Before I show you the pictures, let's just say that I can no longer pull my hair back - AT ALL! And apparently I keep my shoulders up around my chin because that's where my hair is y'all!

I smiled for the picture. I'm not smiling inside.

Here's the back and side. Not the easiest shot to take.



















So there it is. I know it's hair and it'll grow back and I know I will now be cool for the summer, but yikes, it is so short!

So tell me, do I look like a dork? What do y'all think?