Bode accidentally got on an awesome basketball team.

Remember when I dissed on jocks and made it known that I kinda hate (translation: don't understand) team sports? Well, the joke's on me because Bode just landed himself a spot on the best 7-year-old basketball team in the greater Jones OK area. 

Once Bode went to school and realized that his friends were playing on miniature basketball teams, I could no longer convince him that playing basketball at 7:30 AM on Saturday mornings was a really bad idea.

 So, off to Jones Oklahoma we went for our first basketball tournament on our first basketball team where Bode played in his first four basketball games in the same day.

 And lo and behold, these little dudes won the entire tournament!

I still find the entire experience questionable and I find it impossible to not giggle to myself through most of the games, but I will admit that it was a pretty exciting day and I didn't exactly hate it.

I'm entering a brand-new world. Watching my sweet little boy play basketball makes me nervous and excited and proud all at the same time. It's weird.

Bode was walking pretty tall the next day. He said he loved it and that's all I needed to hear. I'm officially all in.

Books I Shouldn't Be Reading

I am currently taking the graduate class from hell. It's so bad that the only way I can possibly cope is to read books and watch reruns of Gilmore Girls. Both things are putting me further and further behind in said hellish class but I have to have something to numb the pain. Just talking about this class is making my heart race with anxiety. Therefore, more avoidance...

I am slightly embarrassed to admit I read this trashy little memoir. It's basically all about Ms. Dunham's gross sexual escapades and how she figured herself out. It's slightly useful if you are interested in better understanding these strange people called Millennials. 

The Interestings is very, well, interesting (See what I did there?). I really enjoyed it. Nothing crazy happens, yet I found myself really enthralled with the people.

This book. This book will make you shake in fear. I'm officially terrified of monkeys, hospitals, and Ebola being airborne. Ohmygaw this will keep you up at night.

All humans should read this book. I am now doing the workbook and bible study companion. It's just great.

Every day that I wake up and I realize I am still in this class I start praying that Jesus will come back. I pray that for a lot of reasons, but I would be lying if I said this class isn't the biggest.

Mia's Halloween

Halloween accidentally became all about Mia this year. Mainly because she is so awesome and quirky and picked the coolest costume ever - The Mona Lisa - AKA Mia Lisa. 

No 80's rockstar or Frozen princess for this girl. 

It took a small act of God to put this thing together. Thankfully I married a man whom I knew would quickly become obsessed with the project. 

Somehow he fashioned backpack like straps to it and a little headrest so it would stay positioned correctly. 

And then there was Bode. Sweet, predictable Bode. He dresses up as an NBA player everyday for school so he had several choices. He went with an injured KD. We kind of forgot to take pictures of him. I found this on my phone sent to me from someone else. Poor, neglected child. 

We've all had the cold from hell this week. A cold for Mia means moping around playing Minecraft and not eating. A cold for Bode means no school, breathing treatments, two trips to the doctor, steroids, antibiotics, and fifty other medications all the while managing to eat bacon cheeseburgers for every meal and claiming he's still not full.

I don't need to explain to any of you what a cold for a mother means - you just move on and pretend it's not happening.

Why Children Should Not Be Allowed in Public

In a crowded Mexican restaurant with no less than 15 Hispanic people around us:

Bode: I know all about opposites. I can tell you the opposite of ANYTHING!
Me: Ok.
Bode: Like, the opposite of ice cream is.....snowcones!
Me: Hmmmm.....
Bode: And the opposite of cats is dogs!
Mia, in complete exasperation: Bode, not everything has an opposite. Why are you so annoying?
Bode, shoving chips in his mouth and smacking loudly: The opposite of salsa is queso!
Mia, about to blow up: BO. DEE. Those are not opposites! What is wrong with you? It's such a burden to be more intelligent than everyone else on the entire planet. (well, not that last part, but given the judgy look on her face, I am sure she was thinking it.)
Bode in a super loud voice that every person within 10 feet of us was sure to hear: And the opposite of Mexican is.......NORMAL!!!

Check, please.


This kid. What he lacks in knowledge he more than makes up for in confidence.

So, my kid is a ten-ager.

 Mia turned 10 on Wednesday. It was epic. And by epic I mean it was pretty chill and low-key. I tried my best to make this into a big deal but she wanted nothing to do with it.

 These two are identical. 

All she asked for was Captain Crunch for breakfast. Against my better judgement, I succumbed. She also got this little heart ring from me. Because a ten year old girl needs a ring.

 Cookie cake from Eileen's and home-made oreo mint ice cream.

 Apparently, Bode couldn't wait until he got his bowl. 

 There is something about watching a person open presents that's captivating. 

 Mia had a couple of friends spend the night which means that I got to chaperone a slumber party. I do not leave slumber partied unattended for one single minute. I even slept with them. We all know even the sweetest kids turn evil after dark at a slumber party.  

We played a nail painting game. Whatever you landed on, I would paint a nail that color. If they landed on the remover then one came off. The person to get all ten nails painted first won.

 These two have shared twenty birthdays together. 

 Mia insisted on everyone making their own snack mix and she insisted there be ten different items. She also insisted it be perfect.

 Ten bowls of crap all in a row:

 On Saturday Mia got to build her own birthday. She got to choose everything we did as a family and everything we ate. She chose the science museum, catfish for dinner, Dolphin Tale 2 at the movie theater, and Cheesecake factory for dessert.

If you want to spend less than 5 hours at the science museum, do not go with Mia. It's actually kind of freaky how she never gets tired of learning things.

Best ten years of my life. Also, most exhausting ten years of my life. But still, the best.

Vomit pallet, 2014

So, the annual stomach virus hit the kids the other day. Per usual, it struck in the dead middle of the night and, of course, the first child didn't make it to the bathroom. She prefers puking on soft surfaces like carpet and mattresses, it's just more comfortable.

Nothing will blow up a marriage like scrubbing vomit out of carpet at 1 AM.  It brings out the worst in couples. Or is it just us?

Anyway, after the initial shock, I go into full attack mode. Thus, the vomit pallet. The vomit pallet consists of towels, blankets, more towels, a vomit bowl, phenergan, a water bottle, hand sanitizer, and a clear, lit path to the toilet.

This is the only way to survive. 

If I'm lying next to the vomit pallet, I'm able to predict, with pretty good accuracy, when the next episode will hit. The kid will be sleeping pretty soundly and then they will start tossing and turning. Next, they will kick the covers off, and when you hear the first moan it's action time. You wake the kid and start dragging them to the toilet, all the while carrying the vomit bowl carefully under their chin. 

It's a delicate dance.

After anywhere from 6-25 more episodes of this, you get your kid back:

To be honest, I don't know which version of Bode is more exhausting.

Marching to the beat of her own, quirky little drum since 2004.

Bode had a birthday and Mia is still as sweet as ever.

If you are stressed out about your little boy's birthday party then you only have yourself to blame. I can say this because I am a recovering stressed-out birthday-party-planning-mom. What I have found is that all boys need is a cake and a couple of balls thrown into your yard. 

That's it.

 And folding chairs work just find as bases.

I'm telling you, do not over-think this. No decorations, no venue, and for heaven's sake no table-scape. Balls and cake. Cake and balls. No more, no less.

When they leave, spray everything with Fabreeze, because little boys smell like farm animals, grab the leftover cake and a fork, and plop down on the couch. Birthday. Done.

In other news, this girl is still sweet. I keep waiting for her to resent every word that comes out of my mouth, but so far she's managed to keep the angst to a minimum.  I say this with the full knowledge that my next post will probably be about the first time my daughter screams "I hate you." 

These two kids are the greatest thing that ever happened to me. For reals.

Why 4th grade is fun:

Mia has been having the best time in fourth grade thus far.

And by Mia, I mean Andy.

Fourth grade is the year of projects and the only person who loves a project more than Mia is her father. The two of them are unstoppable.

Mia's latest assignment was to create a 'book-in-a-bag' where she decorated a paper sack to represent a particular book and then she filled the sack with items that represented the story.

Andy was obsessed.

He actually shoved a piece of paper into his mouth and chewed it up in order to make it look "authentic."

Don't waste your time trying to make that make sense. It's insane.

As psychotic as he is about the kids' school assignments (and I mean that as a compliment), I absolutely love the fact that I never have to sign the homework folders or read the emails. He's on it like white on rice.

As far as husbands go, this psycho is a keeper.

More books that aren't fiction

I've been anti-fiction lately. I have no real explanation. Fiction just isn't doing it for me these days. But I have read more terrifying memoirs and a few books that have guaranteed to make a me a better person. 

The jury is still out.

This book ruined my life. I'm really not kidding. My closest friend in the therapy program with me told me to read it and it ruined me forever. She said it was the book that changed her life. I was so terrified after I read it that I insisted she give me free therapy sessions. And if you're into weird controversy google the author's name. I can't continue to talk about this book for fear of a crippling panic attack.

 Lucky is a memoir about Alice Sebold's life. She wrote The Lovely Bones and I enjoyed that book so naturally I was interested in her life. This book is very gritty and honest. She takes you through her experience being a rape victim. It's terrifying in the I'll-never-let-my-daughter-go-to-a-park-alone kind of way.

This book was recommended to me by my running partner. It's super interesting. At first I thought it was way too smart for a normal person like myself, but the more I read it the more I enjoyed it and the smarter I started to feel. I highlighted and underlined the whole thing, which really defeats the purpose of highlighting and underlining, so maybe I'm really not any smarter.

This book is supposed to make me a fabulous public speaker. I'm not convinced it's working, although I have no problems babbling on for hours about nothing.

 This is Beth Moore's newest study on 1st and 2nd Thessalonians. I never knew I needed an in-depth study on Thessalonians but turns out I did. Like all of her studies, I love it. It feeds my soul.

This book is going to help me to quit opening my big mouth at the exact wrong time, or so I'm told. I really believe everyone that plans to talk to other humans should read this. If you keep saying yes when you know you should say no, read this book. If you get flustered and don't say what you really meant to say, read this book. If you avoid expressing your real beliefs and opinions and tend to just agree with what someone else is saying, read this book. If you know you need to tell a loved one something but you keep coming up with excuses not to, read this book.

I am no longer cooking, cleaning, or doing laundry. It's awesome, except when you get hungry or you need clean underwear. I also haven't been to Target in months which is really sad for me and a huge relief for my husband. 

My prayer is that when my kids look back on this year of their lives - the year Mommy finished her LPC, completed an internship, and decided to direct a new program at work, they will remember having breakfast together, playing cards on Saturday nights, and me falling asleep in their beds with them, because they certainly aren't going to remember eating lots of home-cooked meals and the smell of pine-sol. 

This is the season of "good-enough" and I am learning to be okay with that.

Dear Children,

Sometimes life gets so out of control that I forget I have this blog. Well, I don't forget exactly, but I just choose to use my two free minutes to sit on your bed and talk to you about the latest book series you are completely enthralled with and how you have so many books inside your head that need to come out that you don't have time to sleep. We also talk about how you don't really want to work at Starbucks when you're in college, even though you know that is my dream for you. Your dream is to create and run your own science camp for kids. In fact, you are pretty sure you will be ready to run it when you are 12. I say that knowing you, it wouldn't surprise me one bit if you were running the world by the time you are 12. I also tell you to not throw the Starbucks thing out the window so soon.

Or, in your case, Bode, I choose to hear all about why you want to be a snake catcher when you grow up. And I watch you demonstrate how you will grab them by their heads and roll around on the ground fighting them like you're a crazed lunatic. I listen to you explain that you would never actually hurt the snake, you would just do all that fighting for the sake of the cameras - because that's what your fans will want to see. I try and remind you about college and you immediately remind me that NBA basketball stars/snake catchers have no use for college. I kind of agree with that but tell you to not write it off completely. 

So, you can understand why, after all of that, I don't have the energy to face this blog. You are both in the most wonderful stages of life. I no longer have to dress you and you can use a spray bottle of vinegar on your bathroom all by yourself. But you also still like me and want to tell me your hopes and dreams. I recognize that this delicate balance will not last forever and so I savor it. 

I store it up in my heart and then forget that I should also store it up on my blog because with all the aspartame I consume on a given day there is no way I will remember it forever.

I love you, my sweet children. And so I blog on.

Your Mother

First day - nothing to report, really.

So, the first day of school came and went without much fanfare. And then the first week came and went and I was like, "Oh yah, the blog." 

Once my youngest kid got past kindergarten I kind of stopped caring about all this back-to-school stuff. In fact, I think ours was the only car in the drop off line on the first day. These two walked to their classes all by themselves. I'm sure it scarred them for life. 

But, if it's any consolation, I did scribble a note on their napkins with a sharpie. And I did purchase Bode's only Lunchable for the year. The first day of school is the only day I will pay a stupid amount of money for ham that's cut into a circle, sorry kid. (but I will pay a ridiculous amount of money for coffee mixed with milk. Why? Because I'm the one with the job, that's why). Thankfully, my daughter is too much of a snob to touch a Lunchable, therefore, more coffee.

So, that's really it. First day of first and fourth grades. Great teachers, great school, Mia's first locker, Bode's first (of many) meltdown about having to "waste all of my time learning stuff when I should be playing basketball."

Life is rolling along. It's exhausting, but so, so blessed.

What Mia's room looks like and why I don't care.

This is what my daughter's room looks like all the time:

It's a friggin' disaster zone. But, it's her disaster zone and I do my best to never set foot in it. (Mostly, for fear that I might physically injure myself)

 But I will tell you, when Mia's room looks like this is when she is the happiest. Because it means she's in the {creative} zone. And when she's in the zone, she can't be stopped. Not for food, not for sleep, not for anything.

Ok, I will admit that the food, particularly the four-day-old crusted over fruit dip, is a little concerning.

 Well, and maybe the razor blade knife and hot glue gun are sending off a few alarm bells.

But, seriously, I have given up control of this. It isn't worth it. This girl lives in a different world than me. A world that I don't understand all that much about, except that she has to go there. And when she's not there, she doesn't feel normal.

This used to give me a panic attack, and if I look at it too long, it will make me curl into the fetal position, rock back and forth, and cry for my mother. But this is a room where all kinds of masterpieces are created, fanciful stories are written, sticks are turned into a miniature city for mice (who, for all I know, actually live in her room and feast on strawberries and ding dongs), little brothers are read to, and when the creative juices are all used up for the day, sleep comes very, very late into the night.

How do I love thee, Colorado? Let me count the ways.

 Catching raindrops in his mouth:

 Getting suited up for whitewater rafting. I refused to pay $43 for the picture of us actually rafting. Sorry, kids, you'll have to use your actual brains to conjure up the memories.

 Mia struggled with altitude sickness the first day. Bless it.

 Andy's butt:

 It was vacation afterall:

 Our Brazil travel buddies:

 Apparently, Denver was quite sunny:

 The hills are alive, with the sound of Lashleys and Knowles:

If I wasn't so lazy I would go back and find pictures of these two from the past five Colorado trips:

But I am, so this is all you get. But isn't it a lovely site?