mommyhood

Guess where The Sisters are tonight....

On Sunday...

 

Baby Shower time... toldya there was a Watermelon Basket.  TOLD. YA.

 

 

 

 

 

Note : There are no pictures of people here because Mimi photographed hardly any that didn't contain too much cleavage or otherwise indecent material.  Now. I've said it. 

My Girls

.... paid $8.00 each to get their hair done today. 

Well worth it, dontcha think?  I mean, I would pay good money for pipe cleaners and spiders too.  Especially if I also had Fried Oreos for lunch.  This photo just SCREAMS "Christmas Card," doesn't it?

 

JLo = Still Among the Living. / Weekend Update.

JLo has survived the weekend.  Mostly because I allowed her to sleep with me in case I had to you know, save her life in the middle of the night or something like that.  We are scheduled to go to the neurologist next week - and I am asking her if she is OKAY about every ten minutes. I did receieve a healthy lecture from my sister regarding the fact that she had to read about her neice's medical emergency on the blog.  Not cool, indeed.

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Still no internet and no cable at the Farmhouse.  Still waiting on cable service to even show up.  Still explaining to my children that once upon a time, children did have television or Webkinz.  Or MySpace.

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Just got through lecturing my mom on closure and limits.  Two topics I just became a certified expert in.  As in, in the last 72 hours. Trust me, you don't want to go through the training. It sucks.  Limits. Closure.  Two very freeing fields of expertise.

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My sister is moving back to Charleston.  I wonder if they need any good stationery princesses there? Anyone? Anyone?

Um. You should forget you ever read this.

This weekend, our house - the Farm, actually, was chock full o'company. FULL.  So full, there was a huge red tractor trailer parked RIGHT in my driveway! We used it to house all the people.  Just kidding. 

Josh's Momma married a great guy.  They recently finished their training to become tractor trailer drivers.  TEAM DRIVERS.  They've gone from their small town life in rural north Georgia to cross country travelers.  I spent like, I don't know, HOURS drooling over her photos of California (hi Janet and Nicole!) Arizona, Utah and Canada.  <<jealous>>  She brought home real live cactuses (um, cactai?) from the real live desert.  She picked up a bag of oranges FRESH OFF THE TREE. It's like a virtual Whole Foods out there.

Anyway. So they came into town.  For like, four whole days. And guess what?  When Jeff (above mentioned great-guy) comes to town - he wants to do one thing... COOK.  And I don't mean Ramen noodles.   Think ribs, brisket, steaks, burgers and everything that goes with.  It helps that he's like, Iron Chef.

So, since we were going to have like, PLENTY o' FOOD, we invited a fewwwww people over.

Here we are about, um, half way into our Day of Festivities.  Well, here they are.  Cigars.  Beer.  The Boys.  Josh is like, way proud of that Hunley shirt. And I don't think I've ever NOT seen Brandon (that's my sis's hubby) in stripes.

Here are Becca and Brandon with their children, dogs, Betsy and Bo.  Otherwise known as Miss Lou and Mr. Bo.  Or Lou and Bobo.  Or, Mimi's Only Hope For More Grandchildren.

Spot's Bro, Shakespeare came too.  As you can see, they were clearly glad to see each other.

And Hunter, he mostly just watched.  It's hard bein' a dog.  So many rib bones to chew, so little time.

I wish I had more pictures.  There were like, tons of babies and toddlers.  However, I only received these few from Mimi's camera in my email - which was  kind of her way of saying, "I'm really okay with you posting drunken pictures of our family online."

 

More from Disney.

This must be almost as fun as watching grass grow... a little more of our Disney fun...

 

Eggs, eggs and more eggs.

The Annual (Flashlight) Easter Egg Hunt happened last Friday.  And, as usual, I took absolutley no pictures.  Not even one.  Really, though, I had my battery charged up and my card ready ... however, turns out there were so many eggs to hide, chocolate to eat and kids to wrangle that - alas - I took not one photo... AGAIN.  This, by the way, makes TWo YEARS in a row with no photos.  No photos, mind you, of the best. party. ever., that everyone wants to come to again and again.  Not that I'm bragging. 

The party? It's our annual tradition at The Farmhouse.  This is our fifth year - and, something must be working, because, the same fifth graders that were coming as Kindergarteners five years ago are still coming - only of course, minus the bunny ears.   Because bunny ears - just not cool.   I thought that this year would be the year when GAMES were not cool, however, I realized I was seriously wrong when SB came to me the night before FREAKING OUT that THERE. WERE. NO. GAMES.!  The audacity of me to not plan any entertainment.  I MEAN, she said, WHAT ARE WE SUPPOSED TO DO? JUST WALK AROUND?   So, naturally, I messaged the former spouse and informed him that games? - well that was his responsibilty.  Yes, I could have called him and had a whole "discussion" and planned "together," but, what's the fun of that?  In sending my text message ("HEY SB SAYS U R IN CHARGE OF GAMES. CONGRATS.") I could almost feel the color drain from his face.  Worth every minute.

We feed them hot dogs, chips, and juice, served assembly line style.  Just like summer camp.  The grown-ups stay mostly for the Secret Inside Supper, which is made by Mimi, and includes things like ham, homemade mac and cheese, collards and cornbread.   The parents who drop off and come back have no idea about the Super Secret Inside Supper.  They're missing out.  Who wants two hours of free time when you can have a plate full of comfort food, some sweet tea and 200 screaming children?  WHO?!?

So, as soon as the sun sets - we herd take them all to the pasture and release them, with flashlights in tow, to find the 1200 eggs we hid.  You heard me. Twelve. Hundred.  1200 goodness filled plastic eggs. Don't be fooled - we only HIDE the first hundred or so... then, they mostly get tossed. TOSSED is the new HID.  There is a lot of screaming and giggling and sometimes crying - most especially when you lose one of your crocs or ohmygoodness you don't know where your flashlight is... but mostly, it's the wildest ten minutes of Spring.  Whatever's left over, after the ten minute free for all, the dogs find for the next six months, and chew the candy out of.  And while they do get the candy out of the plastic egg- at any cost - they don't take the candy out of the wrapper.  I don't understand dogs.   Like, right now, Spot is at home, on his little round bed, probably snacking on the entire. box. (box and plastic wrap included) of girl scout cookies left beside my bed.  And this is like, the equivalent of eating bon-bons in bed.  Which is realllly bad for your waistline.

We wrapped up the hunt around ten or so... the last stragglers migrated to Mimi's living room, to The Furniture That Never Gets Sat On.  We mingle and dig through the candy for leftover peanut butter cups.  And this is the highlight of our evening.  Leftover candy.   Of course, the real highlight is spending time with the people you love the most - and knowing that THEY are the ones who will stick around and enjoy the leftover candy with you.  I had to say that.  Because this post really didn't have that Hallmark Card feel until just then.

Head under water....

I have the flu.  Or some version thereof.  The most entertaining part?  Oh - yes, there is an entertaining part to everything... isn't there?  Anyhow - the entertaining part of all my snotty tissues and nighttime cold medicine is definitely the fact that the girls are just amazed that I am going to work. Indeed.  Adults.  We work on our birthdays AND when we would otherwise JUMP for the opportunity to have someone say to us, "hmmm... I think you should stay home today.  Here's some chicken soup."   

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This weekend was dance recital.  I have a million pictures to post for you.  Because, you really come here everyday to see tap shoes and tulle.  Don't deny it.

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Saturday night I ventured to the most dive country bar you have ever experienced in your whole entire life.  So country - so dive - that, on the front door, as you walk in, you notice the sign that requests CLEAN attire before entering.  Swear. To. God.   So country - so dive - that the doorman/bouncer? Yeah. He's also the local sheriff.  And he was wearing BOTH badges.  No kidding.   Despite the level of "dive", I managed to stay out until almost dawn.... and this hasn't happened ever in my lifetime. EVER. And, dear reader, the whole time, I was thinking of you... there were soooo many fabulous pictures to take... but, Josh would've entered cardiac arrest if I had even put the camera within a one mile radius - because really, who takes pictures of a BAR?!?!

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Next Monday, Jackson undergoes his first surgery to repair his cleft lip.  Saturday night, Jennifer and Brian are having everyone over for dinner - you know, to say "goodbye" to Jackson's lip.  Surely, he will look like a different little boy without the sideways nostril and the Elvis smile.  I am taking a cake for dessert - and, in tribute to the missing part of Jackson's lip - I am taking out a slice. :-)  THAT is cleft humor, people. HUMOR.  I think the March of Dimes people would be proud.

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Tomorrow = Valentine's Day. In case you didn't already know.  Must go now... have to blow my nose. Again.

Weather, Part II.

Ummm... snow. AGAIN.

This is a problem because, consequently, allllllllllllllllllllllllll the Georgians make a frenzied rush to the grocery to buy milk and bread... for mlk sandwiches?  I have no idea what these people DO with milk and bread in lieu of less than an inch of snow, but, it must be something.

Here's Spot in the "snow". Too bad he's so incredibly in need of a bath, or else he'd be camo'd.

Here's what horses do (Chance, specifically) in the snow.  Turns out, they stand at the fence just like always and wonder if possibly you are the Bringer of More Hay.  Sundance, mind you, did not make the blog because she was acting very diva-esque when I tried to photograph her.  All the women here at the farmhouse are JUST alike.

This was the most dramatic accumulation I could muster.  I hope you now understand my frustration that this meager sprinkle has businesses EVERYWHERE closed up and grocery store shelves completely barren.  SERIOUSLY.

You can see the reason for the panic again here.

Just be sure to check in over the next couple of days... I could possibly be  buried in a snowdrift.