The Toothless Wonder Strikes Again!

I love that Aidan has lost his two front teeth on top! It is so absolutely adorable! I was so excited for them to come out that I actually bribed him. I know. As a parent I should not resort to bribing my children, but I couldn't help it. It is so cute for him to be toothless! I told him this summer as those top teeth started to loosen that I would give him a dollar in addition to the dollar the tooth fairy left him, if he would only get those teeth out before school started. He did get one out before school. I know you are thinking that is pure manipulation. I will have you know that it WAS really loose before it came out, thank you very much. Now, top tooth #2 is out, as well. I am sad that the his grown up teeth are already coming in, but, never fear, school pictures are next week. He will be forever memorialized in pure, unadulterated childhood innocence, as represented by toothlessness. I love it!

Here is the first tooth gone:

Here is top tooth #2 gone. Look at my little goober! He is so proud.:)

It Didn't Get Here

The "it" I am referring to this time is the kitty acquisition. Those poor kitties were just not healthy. They didn't stay. Sorry, kitties. They took a short trip to the Humane Society. Let this be a lesson to all you animal owners out there. It is being kind to spay or neuter your loving little pets. Then I don't have to explain to my 4-year-old, 6-year-old, and 31-year-old that NO the kitty is not coming back home with us. Seriously. It's just not fun.

A Day I Thought Would NEVER Come

And by never, I mean absolutely, never in a million years did I think MY husband would ask me if we could have a cat. This is the man who used to sick his dog on the cat every chance he got when he was growing up. But he has a soft heart. This morning, while washing his hands in the bathroom he heard a hiss, meow, woof! He then proceeded to the back door to call for Gomer. Gomer didn't come--which is very unlike him. Brad headed out to find out what Gomer was up to. There was one seriously peeved kitten hiding in a corner in our back yard. Not only that one, but there was another sitting on a log 5 feet away. I was then woken up from my sweet slumber (where I was dreaming that I was driving KIT from Knight Rider--it was very cool, by the way). Needless to say, the kitten was still peeved when I got out there. I blocked him one way while Brad grabbed him with gloves. We put him in a kennel and went back for the other one. Now I have 2 kittens in my dining room. This is where I get to the unexpected part. My husband (yes, Brad!) asked if we could keep them! Not in so many words, but I believe the exact phrasing was something like, "What do we tell the kids when they ask?" Ask what? I couldn't believe it. We'll see how it goes. One of the kitties does not look very healthy. If this/these cat(s) stay, there are rules. I will not do a litter box. They must be neutered. Hopefully, Gomer won't eat them. We'll see...

Washing in the River

By the title, you might just think that is blog will be about some wonderfully moving, deep spiritual experience. Sorry to disappoint this time. This is literal washing, of the poopy sort. This story begins on July 3rd. We were having a nice evening at Beaver Creek. It is not often that water actually flows through Beaver Creek, let alone enough to float on it. It has been about 3 years since there was really water in it. Most of the family was there; my parents, my brother & his family, our family friend, and us. I am standing on the side of the river just enjoying watching everyone wade in the water. The kids are floating on the tubes. There's laughing and splashing and giggling. Great fun! Great memories! Then I am distracted from my little dream world when my husband calls me over to get Breanna. Why can't he just bring her to me? The water's cold, I'm thinking. Never the less, I am the mommy, so I go to her. That's when he tells me. She has poop in her pants. Apparently, she had a wet fart. He was playing with her. Why do I get to clean it? Because I'm the mommy, that's why. I think it's the comedian, Jeff Foxworthy, that talks about as little kids we pretend to not see the dog vomit on the floor, so that Mommy can clean it up. This was one of those situations...even though my husband knew it was there. Hmmm...Anyway, I wade my little frozen feet to my little sweetness. I take her hand and we walk over to the other side of the river so that we are not upstream from everyone else. Down go the britches. Down goes the bum into the water. I don't carry a roll of toilet paper in my pocket, and, let's face it, even if I did it would just get those funky little roll-up fuzzies all over her hindparts anyway. So we washed in the river. If we are continuing on this honesty streak, the animals do it, too. You can't tell me that Bambi doesn't have the occasional bowel movement whilst prancing his happy hopping feet across the creek. So next time any of you that get your water down stream from Beaver Creek take a drink, feel reassured that the washing in the river took place several months ago. You have already drinken Breanna's little particles and moved them on through. Happy drinking!

Shooting Off

My little babies are growing up so fast, of course and as usual. This year we celebrated the 4th of July by heading to the in-laws to bbq and set off fireworks. Aidan was especially excited to get to help light fireworks this year. He was a regular little pyromaniac. It was really cute! He jumped all over the place and kept telling Brad, "I want to light another one!"--before the last one was even done going off. Breanna really like the fireworks, but was not so interested in lighting them. She sat on my lap and enjoyed the view...all while singing songs at the top of her lungs. Her favorite song, of course, was "Michael, Row Your Boat Ashore" which she sings all the time--at the top of her lungs in a big rocker voice. It is really funny! I guess she is just practicing for when she will have to sing over the noise of the kitchen. (As you might, or might not recall, she wants to be a chef and a singer when she grows up.) We also sang "God Bless America" and a couple more that I can't recall, but it was fun for all...well, the neighbors didn't complain, anyway. Good food, good fireworks, good company. What more can you ask for?

Flying Colors

I passed! Yeah! What did I pass, you ask? My orange belt test, of course. I have to admit, I was a little bit anxious going into it, but once I got there, it wasn't so bad. I won't say it was easy because I was dripping sweat at the end...due to running 25 laps and going mock 90 through all the techniques--all 500 of them. Okay, 500 may be a little bit of an exaggeration, but it felt like 500. Amazingly enough, I did remember them all. Aidan said he thought it was cool to watch, but he is a little bit nervous to do his orange belt test in a few weeks. Up until this point, testing is done in class with just one teacher watching. At orange belt, everything changes. You have to come in on a separate day, for starters. Then, you have to perform all your techniques in front of a board of instructors--who are mostly black belts--and your family or whomever else is watching. No pressure. It was a big relief for me for it to be people that I knew that I was testing in front of. My biggest problem was cotton mouth. After running the laps, I could barely talk because it was so bad. I don't know if it was just out of breath-ness, or my sjogren's syndrome, but it was terrible! I had to explain a technique while having no moisture in my mouth! Ick! Anyway, everything considered, it was not too bad. I now look forward to watching ALL of the rest of my family go through it. By the way, my favorite part was the very end of the technique section, before the question and answer time... and by favorite, I mean not so much. However, I am not going to spoil the surprise for those of you that are just about to start karate. I will let you stew on it and wonder...

Finger Wrapping

I often kid about Breanna having her Daddy wrapped around her little finger. I don't often get such a clear example of it, however. This last Friday we had a little check up for Breanna. Usually, at the end of said appointment, she gets a new toothbrush. Great. Not a problem. Wonderful, in fact. THIS time she got stickers...princess stickers that she picked out, to be exact. As we proceed to the car at the end of our appointment, she asked about the apparently forgotten toothbrush. I pointed out that she got stickers instead and that we would get a toothbrush at the next appointment to which she promptly responded with a yelling temper tantrum and refused to be buckled into her seat. We don't move until kids are buckled, so I patiently waited for a minute or two. When the tantrum appeared to not subside at all, I ever so kindly smooshed her into her booster seat, buckled her in, and went on down the road. It was so much fun to listen to her scream at the top of her lungs all the way home about a toothbrush. This is the part where the daddiness comes in. I told her along the way that she would get a spanking when we got home for her poor choice in attitude. She did not agree with the prescribed antidote to her behavior, so she decided to not hold still. I then picked her up and carried her to Daddy to administer the alleged injustice. Seriously, Daddy tapped her on the rear end with the spoon. I just glared at him. Daddy is supposed to back me up. He usually does a good job, but oh my goodness... that little, blond girl has him completely wrapped around her little finger. He just smiled and we all walked away...

"The offending angel"