1. My kids are goofy.
2. Your's probably are too.
3. But this is my blog so if you are here then you are probably going to see a bunch of stuff about mine. Sorry.
4. I have mentioned before on here that my daughter just cannot talk very clearly. Like - at all. Bless her little heart. But as her mother I am able to decipher more of what she says than most people. As her mother, I also know that there are several words that she just will not attempt for some reason - her name being one of them. I have no idea why, but she refuses to say it. It's a perfectly regular type name (well sort of) that other little kids are capable of saying, but she REFUSES to even try. So it has become sort of an amusing thing for us lately to see what she answers when we ask her what her name is. She changes the answer every so often, but for the past month her name has been...........wait for it............................
Doctor Cassie Tiger
Yep, you heard that right folks. I am the proud mother of one Doctor Cassie Tiger. Of course, it's pronounced more like "Dodder Sassy Shiger" but I speak Destruct-o-girl so I know what she's saying. You have no idea just how fun it is to try and explain that to strangers who are trying to be polite and talk to the cute girl with the crazy hair in the checkout line at the Walmart store.
"What's your name cute girl/hon/little sweety/other cute baby girl colloquialism?". "Dodder Sassy Shiger" (proud grin).
(strange look)
(then I tell them what her real name is and get an even stranger look a lot of times)
Then it really gets interesting when they ask her how old she is and her reply is always "two five seven five".
I promise, one day I'll send her to preschool where maybe she can work all of this out.
5. Every week my son has to write a sentence for each of his 10 spelling words in his spelling notebook. Every week my son forgets to bring his spelling notebook home and I want to beat him with a large stick. Today when he finished up and checked over his work, I couldn't help but notice the sentence for number 6 "serve".
"My mom won't serve me."
Funny. Because now I'm completely unsure of what I've been doing with myself for the past seven and a half years.
6. Sunni is not actually a child, but might as well be because I feed her, clean up after her, and yell at her too. So I am soliciting advice from all of you dog lovers out there for my other baby. She is an australian shepherd and is smart and cute and not very big yet, but boy does she wear a family out. She has tons of energy (which we thought we were prepared for) and chews to oblivion things that I didn't even know we owned (which I can live with). But the worst of all offenses is that she attacks our kids with love. She's so sweet to them and lets my girl pull on her ears and sit on her and whack her in the nose for no reason, but she just jumps all over the kids. Especially the baby. Aaron and I have broken her from jumping on us, but I can't seem to figure out how to stop her from jumping on them if I'm not standing right beside them. It makes playing in the back yard torture. What do I do?! Help! Advice?! New home?! (ok, kidding. .........I think)
7. It's hard to believe during this cool spell (that's not a thing you can say a lot in April in Mississippi), but earlier in March it was warm enough outside to play in the sprinklers. I even saw pics on facebook of people swimming. Apparently their pools are heated because mine will still be freezing on Memorial Day, if the past three years have been any prediction. Fat people in skirted swimsuits and blue lips. It's a holiday tradition.
Anyhow, I still have a completely blank mantle over my fireplace ever since Christmas and I've been waiting on something to inspire me, so the other day I decided to snap some pics of my kids in the sprinkler. I thought they turned out so well that I printed them out in the small poster size, mounted them on some canvass I had and sat them on my mantle waiting to have a decorative vision. They are no professional shots are anything, but they are natural. Just the way I want to remember them today.
2. Your's probably are too.
3. But this is my blog so if you are here then you are probably going to see a bunch of stuff about mine. Sorry.
4. I have mentioned before on here that my daughter just cannot talk very clearly. Like - at all. Bless her little heart. But as her mother I am able to decipher more of what she says than most people. As her mother, I also know that there are several words that she just will not attempt for some reason - her name being one of them. I have no idea why, but she refuses to say it. It's a perfectly regular type name (well sort of) that other little kids are capable of saying, but she REFUSES to even try. So it has become sort of an amusing thing for us lately to see what she answers when we ask her what her name is. She changes the answer every so often, but for the past month her name has been...........wait for it............................
Doctor Cassie Tiger
Yep, you heard that right folks. I am the proud mother of one Doctor Cassie Tiger. Of course, it's pronounced more like "Dodder Sassy Shiger" but I speak Destruct-o-girl so I know what she's saying. You have no idea just how fun it is to try and explain that to strangers who are trying to be polite and talk to the cute girl with the crazy hair in the checkout line at the Walmart store.
"What's your name cute girl/hon/little sweety/other cute baby girl colloquialism?". "Dodder Sassy Shiger" (proud grin).
(strange look)
(then I tell them what her real name is and get an even stranger look a lot of times)
Then it really gets interesting when they ask her how old she is and her reply is always "two five seven five".
I promise, one day I'll send her to preschool where maybe she can work all of this out.
5. Every week my son has to write a sentence for each of his 10 spelling words in his spelling notebook. Every week my son forgets to bring his spelling notebook home and I want to beat him with a large stick. Today when he finished up and checked over his work, I couldn't help but notice the sentence for number 6 "serve".
"My mom won't serve me."
Funny. Because now I'm completely unsure of what I've been doing with myself for the past seven and a half years.
6. Sunni is not actually a child, but might as well be because I feed her, clean up after her, and yell at her too. So I am soliciting advice from all of you dog lovers out there for my other baby. She is an australian shepherd and is smart and cute and not very big yet, but boy does she wear a family out. She has tons of energy (which we thought we were prepared for) and chews to oblivion things that I didn't even know we owned (which I can live with). But the worst of all offenses is that she attacks our kids with love. She's so sweet to them and lets my girl pull on her ears and sit on her and whack her in the nose for no reason, but she just jumps all over the kids. Especially the baby. Aaron and I have broken her from jumping on us, but I can't seem to figure out how to stop her from jumping on them if I'm not standing right beside them. It makes playing in the back yard torture. What do I do?! Help! Advice?! New home?! (ok, kidding. .........I think)
7. It's hard to believe during this cool spell (that's not a thing you can say a lot in April in Mississippi), but earlier in March it was warm enough outside to play in the sprinklers. I even saw pics on facebook of people swimming. Apparently their pools are heated because mine will still be freezing on Memorial Day, if the past three years have been any prediction. Fat people in skirted swimsuits and blue lips. It's a holiday tradition.
Anyhow, I still have a completely blank mantle over my fireplace ever since Christmas and I've been waiting on something to inspire me, so the other day I decided to snap some pics of my kids in the sprinkler. I thought they turned out so well that I printed them out in the small poster size, mounted them on some canvass I had and sat them on my mantle waiting to have a decorative vision. They are no professional shots are anything, but they are natural. Just the way I want to remember them today.
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