RIP Grouchy Mama

I’m grouchy.

There, I said it.

I admit it.

I can be quite a grouch.

There is no excuse.  I know it.  I am the only person able to control my own actions and emotions.  Only I have the power to change how I relate to others.

I know this, but I struggle.  I do.

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All New…Cooking with Kids Channel

I have a NEW idea for a cooking show!!

I am soooo over the cooking shows and videos where a well-groomed, fashionably dressed, totally put together chef with a flawless haircut, great voice, perfect lighting, and a killer cameraman are demonstrating the simplicity of a recipe while in the sterile, serene environment of a kidless kitchen (no “helpers”).



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Oh, how we know this to be true…anytime we have tried to change lanes or back up.

It appears that you have so much extra room…so much extra time…

Now, think of the mirror as life…your future…

The objects…events, milestones.

From the time that tiny baby is placed in your arms, the milestones are THERE.  They appear so far off in the distance, but they are close…MUCH closer than they appear.


A Treasure Hunt for Love

We went on a treasure hunt today and found a little love.  Tomorrow, we are going to share it.  Isn’t that what you are supposed to do with love?  Share it.

The day started like any other…

Mommy snuck out the front door…very quietly…and went to check the mail.  I actually managed to make it out alone this morning.

“Is there anything for US?!?” is what is asked every single day.

“Yes!” was the answer they received today.

In the mailbox this morning, mommy found a “mystery letter.”  There was no postmark, not even any postage, and no return address.  It was simply a hand-written letter, addressed to all the kids in our house.  Where in the world could such a letter come from?  That is what my kids have wondered all day.  THAT, guys, is a mystery.

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Drained Batteries…

Have you ever had that one toy that just wouldn’t shut off?  The battery was too drained to even quit.

I have had baby swings that wouldn’t quit swinging.

I have had activity tables that wouldn’t stop singing.

Toy dogs that began babbling incoherently…and wouldn’t stop.

And poor Cinderella glowed and glowed and glowed for a couple of days.  Bless her heart.

These poor toys had batteries that were draining, but they just couldn’t quit.

Have you ever felt this way?

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My Custard Broke

My custard broke.

Broke-a culinary mess in which the custard becomes lumpy and bumpy instead of smooth and creamy…usually from too much heat.

MY custard broke yesterday.

I wonder how many times SHE broke her custard…

I’m preparing the banana pudding for our family reunion…stirring, stirring, stirring, and thinking.

My family is coming to celebrate what would be the 104th birthday of my great-grandmother.  She always made the banana pudding.  Everyone LOVED Grandma’s banana pudding.  I now make the banana pudding.  I hope I do it justice.

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Like Band-Aids on an Ant Bite

There we were, outside, enjoying the evening after the rain had stopped. It has happened before, the ant hills had been demolished by the rain showers, and the ants were on the move. We were unable to see the tiny little biting creatures, but they saw my baby’s feet. She didn’t understand the bites, she didn’t understand the pain, but what she wanted was an “an-daid” to help stop the itch.

Like Band-Aids on an ant bite, it’s really kind of silly to think we can cover up the “itches” in life. The itch is still there. The bandage just hides the swollen appearance. If anything, it just makes the bite harder to scratch. Perhaps it prevents more damage, but it’s not a solution to the itch.

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He Loves Me Anyway

Picture this…
Fuzzy pink slippers…

Knee-high, men’s socks (knee-high on me because they are too big, of course) …

Baggy gray Capri pants that don’t really want to stay up…

A tank that is old, faded, and covered in stains from who knows what (I have 4 kids)…

No make-up…

Hair in a messy bun…meaning that I haven’t done anything to fix it since I went to bed last night…

THIS is how I went to check the mail. Yes, my grandmother is probably having a mini panic attack right now, BUT I’m not going to lie to you people. Why do I go dressed this way? Don’t I care about what the neighbors may think? Well, quite frankly, NO, not really. They are great friends and I would do just about anything for them. I will even try to remember to water some mums for a week and a half to keep them from dying…I did TRY!!! But I’m not going to get dressed before I leave the house to check the mail…my mail comes at 9:30.

Wait, who am I kidding? I don’t really do much in the way of getting “all gussied up” even when I go out. Why? Who do I have to impress with my clothing…my looks?

My husband?

Funny you should mention him…let’s look at that for just a second…
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The day is dawning…

The day is dawning, fresh, new.
As I step outside, bare feet on the ground,
the grass is enveloped in a blanket of dew.
Drops, like crystals, shine on a meticulously spun web.
The sun starts to peak, ever so slightly
and the darkness, from the earth, quickly begins to ebb.
I search in the horizon for the initial blaze.
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