Monday, May 28, 2012


ok, so someone please tell me why people who choose to get messed up on drugs and alcohol think it's ok to assault people?  bad choices=consequences.  see you in the jailbird weekly!

Thursday, May 24, 2012

Last Day

Tomorrow is bittersweet for me.  Tomorrow is the last day Emma will be a kindergartener.  Tomorrow is the last day Jacob will be a first-grader.  They are growing, learning, exploring this world.  As happy as I am to watch them blossom, I miss the baby days.  I wish I could just slow down time and enjoy it.  Enjoy EVERY MINUTE OF IT.  Not worry about housework, or work or anything.  Just watch them and savor each silly, outrageous, leave me flabbergasted moment.  I turned my head for a moment, and they've grown. 

It's a reminder from God to slow down.  Slow down and enjoy these little works of art that we've created.  You can't go back, but you can enjoy the MOMENT. 

I know I'll cry tomorrow, but that's ok with me. 

I love them more than words could ever tell you.



Wednesday, May 23, 2012

My Top 5

I stumbled upon Anna over at My Life and Kids one afternoon and laughed at the Finding the Funny posts until I nearly peed myself.  I even contributed some of my own funny posts (mostly about Sam's poop and How my husband nearly let me die of vertigo).  Today I offer to you my favorite 5 posts from this weeks "Finding the Funny" without further adeiu, here they are!

1.  You show your ass, I'll show mineI
     (because I'd do this to my kids)
2.  Exploding Pants and my Bagel Belly
     (It really does look like a bagel!)
3.  My neighbors might be cannibals
    (I swore my neighbor had bodies in his basement, and Polish prostitutes in his attic)
4.  Suggestions for men
    (because they need all the suggestions they can get!)
5.  Mrs. Ventura when nature calls
    (because I can just visualize him doing it)

Please visit Anna and Kelly over at Finding the Funny every Wednesday.  Share your own bad parenting moments, oddities and hellacious neighbor stories.  To see the total list of this weeks Finding the Funny, click here!

Thank you Anna and Kelly for keeping it real!



Tuesday, May 22, 2012

How to wash a chicken.

Ok, so how I got to wash my chicken isn't very funny.  The actual washing the chicken part is though. 
Our dogs (Molly and Thor), have decided to become chicken stalkers.  Molly, you see, is a rescue dog.  She was found in a trailer park in Ludowici, GA.  I picked her up from the current owner in the parking lot of a Clyde's Market in some little town I can't recall the name of now.   Need I say more.  I am sure she has chased more than a few chickens and eaten them as well in her day.  She also ate one of her babies.  She's a killer, what can I say?  And Thor, well, Thor is Molly's baby, so I guess she's just trying to carry on the family tradition. 

Thor is only 11 weeks old.  He's been jumping at the chickens and they'll peck him in the eye and well, then he'll leave them alone.  Well last weekend the man and I were building the duck house and the dogs were barking.  I realized they had a chicken trapped under the deck.  Lulu is quite the survivor though.  Had it just been the pup, she wouldn't probably just pecked him in the eye and left.  She had Molly to contend with too.  She was outnumbered.  The Man got the puppy out and I rescued the chicken. 

Lulu was pretty beat up.  They tore her neck and wing and ripped out ALOT of her a tailfeather's.  I figured she would die.  Well, the next morning, still looking beat up, she was still alive.  I sent my husband for the antibiotic ointment after Googling "how to care for a mauled chicken". You seriously, can find anything on the internet.  So, now I had to wash her.  To get the dog saliva off and prevent infection.  Okay.  One bucket with warm soapy water...check. One wash basin....check. Towel to dry....check.  Now you can't wash a chicken like a dog.  They have feather's so I kind of poured water over her and tried to clean up the wounds.  She kept falling forward in the basin.  I held her tight too, because she will flap the crap out of you with her wings.  But I kept on, dunking and rinsing, determined to help her stay alive.   I probably will never, ever eat chicken with skin  Then I busted out the tube of antibiotic ointment and smathered it all over her.  So, now she's a wet, pathetic, beat up chicken covered in ointment.  She probably won't win any 4-H contest, but hey!  She's alive!  The other thing I didn't know is that when chickens wounds heal they turn green.  It's not gangrene, it's just how they heal.  So, today she is looking delightful because she is covered in ointment and turning green. 

So she's living in the upstairs condo of the chicken house so her sister's don't kill her.  Did you know chickens are cannibals?  They are.  They kill the injured, the sick, the weak. 

I am sorry to report that Thor and Molly have continued on their killing spree though.  They lured Shirley, Laverne's sister, under the same deck and did away with her.  The Man found her.  Needless to say the chickens are all in the henhouse for good.  No more free ranging girls.  Sorry.

I hope this post has been helpful to any other's who have killer dogs and chickens.  Maybe my instructions will end up on the Google Search. 



Damn flies

We have a fly problem here in Georgia.  They are almost as bad as the gnats here.  I even hung one of those smelly bags that is supposed to lure the flies to it (it's filled with some disgusting blob of what I assume is rotting meat and you add water to it to really bring out the stench) on our deck.  Let me go back and tell you that I first hung it in my laundry room, before I realized the stench that it let's off.  We'll just say the door was open for a long time (letting in yet more flies!) and I used ALOT of Lysol.  Now, back to the original idea for the post.  These flies.

I hate a fly.  I really do.  They sit on poop.  We have two dogs, so they sit on alot of poop around here.  They buzz around you.  They sit on your sandwich (after they sit on poop).  They spit on their food.  They serve no purpose.  Except to gross me out and make me curse.  So I walk around all day with a fly-swatter saying "Damn flies!" 

This morning I realized I should not be so verbal about my hatred for the flies as Sam (who is 4) was walking around the dining room table saying "Damn flies!".  Score one for me. 

I still hate a fly though. 



Friday, May 11, 2012

First swim

Yesterday I caught Daisy and Donald {yes, we did re name them!} and loaded them up in their traveling bucket for a quick swim in the pond. Let me just say, they are REALLY hard to catch!

They took to it like, well, ducks in the water!
Daisy is on the left, Donald is on the right.

They dipped their heads in, but mainly stayed near the water's edge.
Once, they both swam super fast to get under the trees.

I assumed they were done when they came up on the shoreline.
I kept the dogs at bay with a broom (haha) and escorted them back to their pen.
Hopefully, I will have their new home (closer to the pond) ready by next week.
They are so sweet and they grew so quick!

happy friday!


Wednesday, May 9, 2012


Madi just walked by me in the kitchen.  She was trailing something behind her.  Something long.

The trail led into her bedroom and ended with her.
Hmmmmm.  Smells minty fresh.

Show me.  Now.


Now Madison.

Guess I'll be going to the store for more dental floss.



Tuesday, May 8, 2012


Remember last week when all the kiddies has a stomach bug?  Like a good Mom,  I spent a few days feeding them Emetrol to help settle their little tummies.  Emetrol also has a side effect {so I discovered} it seems to stop up little kids.  Especially little kids named Sam. 

Hi, I'm Sam.

When I left for work on Sunday night, Sam was moaning and groaning on the pot.  Standing up, holding his butt.  He had a big old belly and needed to take care of some business.  I assured my husband it would all work out and left.  The following day, he seemed to be ok, but I texted my husband and asked him if Sam has done "his business".  His answer, "a little".  Hmmmm.  So I'm chatting on the phone with my friend Jessica.  We are laughing and joking about our jobs.  I hear some groaning.  I go into the bathroom to find a naked Sam.  {he always poops naked, what can I say}  Well, he's not pooping, he's squirming.  I reassure him, sit him back on the pot, head out to the family room and go on with my conversation.  "Blah, Blah..."  I stop mid sentence and say "Jessica, you are not going to believe what Sam is carrying".  "WHAT ARE YOU DOING????" I scream at him.  There in both his little hands is a big old doodie.  "I pooped in my hand." Why, yes, yes Sam I can see that, I say. "Jessica?,  I have to go. Sam just shit in his hand."  Shower, new clothes.  Promises to mommy that he will not poop in his hand again.  I have some yard work to do.  I head outside. 

My weed trimmer line breaks and I need a screwdriver from the laundry room.  I see Sam standing at the family room window.  He's trying to get my attention.  But there's something else.  Something on the window.  Something smeared down the window.  And it's brown. 

I open the patio door and am hit in the face with the smell of doodie.  Big doodie.  And it's all over Sam's fingers.  Again I scream "WHAT ARE YOU DOING?????"  He runs toward the bathroom and I see it dripping down his legs.  Little poopy footprints all over the carpet and a big old doodie turd lying lifeless outside the bathroom door.  I look into the bathroom and there's Sam, naked except for his Iron Man t-shirt looking like he just went to town with a bowl of chocolate frosting.  Only, it's not frosting folks.  It's down is legs.  It's on the toilet.  The doorknob.  The shower door.  {I took a picture of him to save for when he's 16 so I can show it to his girlfriend.  I can't show it here, but be sure I texted it to his dad and my friend Jessica.}  Let's just say I think there was some manual disimpaction going on while I was outside.  Another shower.  More promises to mommy to not poop in our hands, or try to remove poop from ourselves.  We take our poop from booty to potty.  That's it.  No middle-man. 

So here's my warning to you mother's.  Let your kids vomit and have diarrhea.  Don't try to stop it with medicine.  Just grin and bear it and remember that you won't have to deal with a stopped up kid a few days later.  Or doodie on your windows.  If you are looking for me, I'll be steam cleaning the carpets.  Again. 



Wednesday, May 2, 2012

The sickness

Yesterday dawned foggy but within a few hours the haze had cleared and the sun peeped through.  We spent the day in the pool, laughing playing,  having a great old time.  Little Sammy, so cute in  his swim trunks.  Mr. No Butt and big old belly.  (Boy, his belly really is big today.)  But somewhere, under the waters lie THE SICKNESS.  Going on about our day, we didn't know it, but it was lurking.  Waiting. 

Right before supper, Sam decided to paint his hands purple with a marker.  He didn't want anything to eat.  I snapped a pic and sent it to his dad.  So innocent and sweet, cherub smile, sweet golden hair.  He was playing with the { naked }Baby Alive in the corner and I was cleaning up the dinner dishes in the kitchen.  I heard the scream.  Hands outstretched he was crying and reaching for me.  Baby alive was covered in it.  My chair was covered in it.  The cursed beast that every mother fears.  Curdled milk vomit.  IT WAS ONLY THE BEGINNING.  I ushered him into the shower where two more spews went down the drain.  Thank God.  Onto the couch, a quick text to my husband to "drive faster".  He looked content, a little green, but content on the couch.  He appeared at the back door to meet us on the deck  Smiling.  Always smiling.  He ducked back inside. 

There it was again.  The screaming.  I ran into the door to find him spewing forth like a fountain.  Upset and scared he was JUMPING UP AND DOWN AND FLINGING HIS HEAD ALL AROUND.  The "beast" flew all around, covering my newly washed curtains, sticking to my dining room chairs.  I yelled at him (not because I was mad, because I wanted him to stop flinging vomit about) "STOP JUMPING!!!!"

Jacob came running in from the living room, let out a few gags and announced to everyone that "that really stinks".  Madi stood outside the patio door, fingers pinched tightly over her nose.  Emma just stayed outside. Jacob had alot of questions about vomit.  "What's in it?".  "Food, Jacob, lots of food."

One of the girls was wearing only a t shirt.  (I was in the middle of changing a diaper when I heard poor Sam's screams)  I got poor Sammy into the shower again and announced to the rest of them that the "NO TOUCHING ANYONE" rule was in full effect.  Jacob told Emma to get away from Madi because she might havewhat he called "the sickness".  I mopped, I bleached, I wiped, I steam cleaned the mess away.  After about two hours, I finally got to use the bathroom myself.  And guess what?  No flush.  Broken.  Really??? 

It didn't end there.  How much can a kid this size hold?  0130 am brough another onslaught.  Thankfully the morning hours seem to have settled for little Sam. 

I know more of the SICKNESS is coming though because I caught Madi drinking out of Sam's cup this morning.  It's only a matter of time.  Just a matter of time.  The SICKNESS is there.  Waiting.  Lurking.