Finally, a role model "real" mermaids can relate to.

Mia drew this mermaid Sunday during church.  

And I thanked her on behalf of all the mermaids out there who are sick and tired of being compared to...

...this.

We're bringing the A-cup waistless mermaid back.
It's about time.

Another 10:30 PM shot

When you're room gets too messy, by all means don't clean it. 

Just move out to the hall.

Nothing will stop the creative process around here.  

Thank you for praying!

Jeff is so much better today!  Early this week he had no white blood cells and today he is actually home and preparing to road trip it to OKC for an appointment with his surgeon.  

By better I don't mean he can walk and work and live like a normal person, but I mean he's not at death's door.  And that is all we care about for the moment.

And here is a much more current picture of funky foot:  

Nice and black and crispy.  Yum-O!  Makes you want to go out and barbeque something.

I am going to go out and sing and dance in the beautiful weather and praise God for his healing power (and plant some green beans).

This post in which I ask you to pray

Meet my sweet brother-in-law, Jeff.  

Six years ago Jeff stepped on a stick.

Enter this:

That's right, this is all because of a stick.

Nine surgeries, hundreds of days without being able to work, constant pain, extended hospital stays, maggot therapy, infection after infection after infection, wheel chairs, walkers, crutches, canes, picc lines, iv antibiotics and facing a life-long disability are also all because of a stick.

I would be am bitter.  He is not.  He has never uttered a complaint, a "Why me?" a "How could a friggin' stick do this to me?" a "Why God?" nothing.

He is amazing.

And he desperately needs your prayers.

Sunday night, day 76 post ninth surgery, he was admitted back into the hospital, yet again.  His white blood count was a whopping zero, his picc line had to be removed, he had to discontinue the iv antibiotics that were supposed to be saving his foot from MRSA, and on and on and on it goes.

This mild-mannered, sweet, never complaining man is sick and needs prayers.

Please join me.

This is not a paid advertisement

But if it were, I would get rich talking about how much I love Pinkitzel. 

(Pinkitzel people, if you read this blog, which I am sure you don't because you have unlimited amounts of candy at your disposal and need nothing else in life to complete you, but if you do, I will unabashedly and wholeheartedly promote your adorable store for some more of those raspberry gummy bears.)

Andy was Mia's personal candy assistant.

Bode devoured a lemon cupcake.

How cute is a toothless little girl's face framed in cotton candy and a random assortment of gummy objects?

Nothing makes me happier than to have a big pink sack filled with candy.

I'm really a simple person.  

I don't ask for much too much any more than your average 30-something momma trying to keep her legs shaved.

And I have officially found my nirvana.

All she wants for spring break are her two front teeth

Don't knock it 'till you've tried it.

I feel I owe the split pea community this blog post.  And I think that community consists only of me and my sister.  We grew up eating this soup and for some reason it evokes memories of two little blonde-headed girls who were most likely eating this soup in our underwear because, according to our old neighbor, we were never fully clothed throughout most of our childhood.   

I am determined to keep both of these traditions alive in my own family.  So far, so good.

It seems that most people are afraid of pea soup. Most people are crazy.  

This soup is simple, earthy, and delicious.  And it goes a little somethin' like this:

Grab you a bag of split peas at the store.  They are with the beans.  They cost, like, 15 cents.

Next, get you one of these.  And no, this is not one of my vital organs.  This is a ham-hock.  Mine was left over from Christmas dinner (thanks, Grandma).

Throw them both in a pot and cover them with water and start simmering away.  

See those delicious green beauties? Yum-O!

Now, chop an onion.

And get your adorable assistant to saute it in a little EVOO with some salt and pepper (freshly ground, of course).

Then chop a couple of stalks of celery and a couple of carrots.

Add them to the onion and continue to saute until...

they look like this:

Now throw them in with the peas and ham.

If you like living on the edge, you can throw in some chicken bouillon.

Like this:

Now all you have to do is continue to simmer until the peas sort of break-down and get all creamyish.  And add some salt and pepper if you feel the urge.

And dinner is served.

It's really that simple.  

And I promise the color will grow in you.

Sometimes I think my kid is more mature than me.

10:30 PM:  

Mia - in her full-length nightgown reading a Roald Dahl novel.

Me - on the couch in an old t-shirt watching E News and eating Oreo stuffed chocolate chip cookies.

And just when I start to think I'm raising some kid genius I find this on the bulletin board:

And I secretly breathe a sigh of relief.

Sometimes you just have to throw a fit.

Under a chair.  

In your pajamas and dirty spiderman shirt with no shoes and no underwear. (yes, I let him leave the house like that) 

At your sister's gymnastics class.  

In front of everyone.  

It happens.

Booty and the Beast and other productions

We took the kids to see Beauty and the Beast at the Civic Center the other night.

  According to Bode, "Mia loves Booties and I love Beasts."  

And this weekend was Spring Sing weekend at OC.  Bode slept peacefully through the entire thing.

Mia screamed and yelled and hollered for all her favorites and then cried when it was over.  "It was just so wonderful," she said through her tears. 

 Now that's a Spring Sing fan.

In other news, Buzz received a lovely makeover compliments of Bode.

Just the other day I was remarking how nice it is that I can finally take a shower for the first time in six years without keeping the shower door cracked or having to jump out ten different times and streak through the living room dripping wet in order to keep a child from destroying something.

I think Buzz's makeover went down while I was happily shaving my legs and singing the same line of a Justin Beiber song over and over again.

As far as I'm concerned he can destroy away.  I'm the cleanest I've been in six years and I'm not going back.

A day in the life

of Bode:

I think this was right after I unwrapped the mini-blind cord from around his neck and figured out that the "decaf" tea I was letting him guzzle was not, in fact, decaffeinated.  

 and Mia:

On her way to school diligently practicing a poetry reading that she decided to do for show-and-tell.

After school when I asked her how it went she said, "Terrible.  No one even listened."

I wanted to cry.  But instead I shrugged and told her that happens sometimes and I still think she is awesome and smart and creative.

And then I got on my knees and prayed that she would never stop being who she is and that her overly-caffeinated, ER-trip-waiting-to-happen brother would never stop being who he is either.  

Never say never

I believe the words I am eating today are, "If I had an IPhone I would nev-ver let my kids sit around and play games on it all day.  Psshaw."