Glory to Thee, My God, This Night

I caught the Bug worshiping tonight.  I stopped in my tracks and asked her where she sings that song.  "In Chapel with Gabby," she said.

If this doesn't touch your heart, then it's quite possible you may be the Tin Man.

Praise God, from Whom all blessings flow;
Praise Him, all creatures here below;
Praise Him above, ye heavenly host;
Praise Father, Son, and Holy Ghost.

Amen.

Out of the Mouths of Babes

reposted from joliblog.org

A little over a year ago, I got a fabulous idea from a magazine to keep a record of the funny things my children say over the years.  You know how their little brains so innocently come up with the most hilarious things you’ve ever heard in your life?  Well, why not keep a record of that stuff?  Just imagine how much they will appreciate it when they’re older!

So I went to Target and got plain 6x8 notebooks and wrote “The Funny Things You Say” on the front with a Sharpie.  I have one for each of my children, and I keep them in a corner on my kitchen counter with an ink pen stuck in the spiral binding.  Easy peazey. 

My 4 ½ year old, the Bug, has given me plenty of material for the notebook, while my 1 ½ year old, Tootsie, has yet to begin hers.  (I cannot wait to see what she offers up!)

There are way too many entries to include them all, but I will give you some of my favorites.  I guarantee at least one chuckle out of this.

Proverbs 17:22  says “A cheerful heart is good medicine…” (NIV)  I hope this gives you a sufficient “dose” for the day.

• Handy Daddy asked the Bug to brush his hair, and she said, “Daddy doesn’t have hair – he has head.”  (age 3)
• “Jesus lives in my heart and Mommy’s heart and Daddy’s heart, and Baby Jesus lives in Tootsie’s heart.” (Bug - age 3 ½; Tootsie - age 6 mos.)
• When the Bug wanted to go barefoot, she said, “I want to wear my toes.” (age 3 ½)
• She was running in the driveway and fell.  I picked her up as she cried and asked her, “What hurts?”  She screamed, “This WHOLE BODY hurts!” (almost 4 years old)
• We were playing outside and I said, “Mmmmm, I smell bar-be-que.”  She said, “You smell Barbie poo?” (almost 4 years old)
• She was looking at a lime in a picture book and asked what it was.  When I told her, she said, “Oh -- Jesus turned water into lime.”  (almost 4 years old)
• We were playing pretend.  The Bug was the mama and Handy Daddy and I were the kids.  She told us our daddy was at work and that she works with him when we’re at school.  We asked what kind of work she does.  She said, “I do taxes…and staple papers…and cut papers….and sleep.”  (age 4)
• We were playing outside and Tootsie picked up a leaf and put it in her mouth.  The Bug said, “Look, Mama, she thinks she’s an herbivore.” (age 4)
• She told me that she saw an old classmate of hers, who told her “hi.”  I asked if she told him hello, and she said, “No, I just turned around.”  I explained that it was rude, and she might have hurts his feelings.  She said, “You and Daddy hurt my feelings all the time.”  I said, “When do we hurt your feelings?”  She said, “When I’m being foolish.” (age 4)
• We were playing “I Spy” at bath time.  The Bug said, “I spy something white.”  I asked if it was the washcloth.  She said, “No.  I spy something white, and you wipe your butt with it.” (age 4)

• The Bug was pretending to be Snow White and wanted me to be a dwarf.  I told her I was a girl – not a boy.  She wanted me to pretend to be a boy.  I told her I didn’t know how to pretend to be a boy.  She said, “Just pretend your panties are underwear.” (age 4)
• The Bug was playing a game with her pillow on the floor.  She was running and jumping over it, and Tootsie kept going to lay on the pillow, which messed up the Bug’s little game.  The Bug decided to make a sign, and had me spell out “Don’t lay.”  She put it next to the pillow but, of course, it had no effect on Tootsie.  When Handy Daddy got home, he noticed the sign and said, “Don’t lay??”  The Bug said, “Yeah, but Tootsie thinks it says ‘Do lay.” (age 4)
• About 10 days after her tonsillectomy, the Bug was sitting in bed screaming “OOOWWWW!” over and over.  I told her that if her throat hurt that much, she wouldn’t be screaming at the top of her lungs.  She said, “I’m not screaming at the top of my lungs – I’m screaming at the top of my mouth!” (age 4 ½)

Is that medicine working yet?  Well, I hope it is.  But if not, maybe this will do the trick.

Like I said before, Tootsie has yet to begin her notebook, because she just started talking a few months ago.  We’re getting one…two….three words at the most right now.  So, I don’t have any funny stories to tell about things she’s said.   But we all know when babies start talking, some of their words don’t quite sound the way they’re supposed to.

She has two of these pronunciation malfunctions that are quite funny.  One of them, her word for “Rachel” (her aunt), is so vulgar I cannot mention it here.  The other is her favorite fruit. 

I give you this, not only to entertain you, but in hopes that the strawberry farmers of America will notice it and want to use her for their advertisements. 

“Got boobies?”

You never know.  It could help put her through college.

Fingers crossed…

Hallmark, eat your heart out...

The Bug is very much into art.  The child loves to draw, color, paint, do crafts...you name it.

We do go through a lot of paper and, sadly, many trees lose their lives due to the cultivation of this talent of hers.  But, on the bright side, we do save money on greeting cards.  I can get a scribble pad with 50 or so sheets at Dollar Tree for $1, versus $4 for a greeting card at the drug store.

So Handy Daddy's baby brother is turning 30 on Monday, and we had the Bug create her own little heartfelt card for her Uncle David. 

Uncle David actually has more significance, not because he's Daddy's brother, but because he's married to the Bug's favorite person in the world -- Aunt Rachel.

So, here is her masterpiece.

We could've looked all day and would've never found a "Happy Birthday Uncle" card with a rainbow on it.

WEHOPEYOUHAVEA GREATBIRTHDAY

Portraits of Daddy, Uncle Ben and Uncle David, with their respective ages.

What I LURVE about this portrait is that Daddy has "fur" on his arms and legs, and Uncles Ben and David don't. 

Maybe in your forties, boys.  Something to look forward to. 

Hallelujah and pass the Versed...

It's one of those weeks again.

The Bug got her tonsils out this morning.

Handy Daddy was diagnosed with the flu on Wednesday.

Mama needs a strong dose of Versed. 

We haven't seen Handy Daddy since Monday morning.  He works out of town and got sick while out of town, and came home for the weekend to his Mama's home so that the rest of us would not be exposed to the plague.

This has caused quite a bit of anxiety for Mama.  But, I'm doing okay.

Oh...

The Bug's doing okay, too....

She was actually fine about the whole thing until we were in pre-op and she started getting nervous.  She then decided that she was NOT getting her tonsils out.  "I am NOT gonna do it!" she told me.  There was a whole lot of distracting going on on my part to get her mind off of what we were there to do, but we did have this conversation several times. 

And she absolutely refused to put on their little hospital gown.  "I am NOT gonna wear that!"  The nurse assured me that we could wait until they gave her the Versed and she would be more relaxed.

FINALLY the Versed came....sweet Lord, thank you for the Versed. 

However, she was still adamant about not wearing that gown.  I wrestled that child on the dang bed to get that gown on, only to have the nurse come and tell me it was okay for her to wear her own gown. 

Nice.

I was not too happy about that little revelation, and the nurse knew it.

So then we put her gown back on, and all was right with the world.

She was happy, and they rolled her on back to the OR.

The doc said her tonsils were huge, infected, inflamed, and full of scar tissue.  And (surprise!) he also removed her adenoids.  I had no idea that was coming.  They also removed a stubborn tube from her ear that didn't want to fall on its own, and patched the little hole where it was.

She woke up in post-op, talked to the nurse a few minutes, then looked her square in the face and said, "I want my Mama, and I wanna go home!"

I went to see her in post-op and she was upset, but calmed down fairly easily.  After all of her vitals were normal we were wheeled to the discharge area where she asked, "Is this where I'm gonna get my tonsils out?"  She was so confused when I told her they'd already taken them out.  Sweet baby.  :)

We went home and the girl watched a marathon of movies...about 7 of them...and ate a pint of chocolate Almond Dream, 4 fruit ice pops and a half cup of chocolate pudding. 

I am exhausted and looking forward to Monday when I hope Handy Daddy will be able to return home.  Until then, I will be relying on friends to help me make it through.  Oh, and I have to wake up every 3 hours to give the Bug pain medicine. 

I really wish they would've sent us home with Versed for Mama.

After a good dinner, one can forgive anybody, even one's relatives. --Oscar Wilde

Just so you're not thinking I haven't come by my [self-appointed] name, Mama to da Drama, honestly, feast your eyes on the insanity that is my life at dinner time every day:

EVERY.DAY.

I naively thought that this was just normal behavior for children this age at dinnertime.  However, if you listen closely, I was on the phone with a friend when I captured this impressive footage, and I'm pretty sure she thought I was torturing them.  No, my sweet friend, just feeding them dinner.  But, apparently, torture and dinner are synonymous to them.  And to me, unfortunately.

My friend assured me that this is NOT NORMAL behavior, and this does not go on in everyone's home.

Hmmmm....

Very eye-opening....

It's a wonder I require a minimum of 2 Nature's Sunshine Stress Packs a day.  Why on earth could I be suffering from insomnia?  And what could possibly be the cause of all these knots in my shoulders and back -- it's like the Rocky Mountains back there.

Y'all.

What am I going to do with these children?  This has been going on upwards of 5 years.  How I've managed to cling to a sliver of sanity is beyond me.

On the bright side, I did put them to bed at 7 p.m.  More rocking was requested by the little one and more water was requested by the "big" one.  I said, "It's time for bed and if I hear another cry come from this room, I'll return with The Rod."

I know....shame, shame, shame.

But, for-the-love-of-all-that-is-holy, do you blame me?

On a completely unrelated note, and utterly random to boot, this is the absurdity we call "weather" in Louisiana:

early February - preparing to make icicles

late February - splashing in the sprinkler

Good night, friends.  And when you're asking the blessing over your dinner tomorrow, throw in a good word for me.  I need all the help I can get.

Let them eat [free King] Cake!

My FAVOURITE King Cake!

No, I do not celebrate Mardi Gras, but I do like me some a' 'dat King Cake, chere!  I like 'dem lil' cake!

....and CUT!

Okay, old cajun lady impersonation is complete.

You're welcome.

We the folks[s] of Louisiana celebrate endure Mardi Gras season and all of its debauchery right before the Lenten season begins each year.  Well, Mardi Gras a/k/a Fat Tuesday is right around the corner (a week from today, to be exact).

If you are like me, and could care less about Mardi Gras, but eagerly desire to partake of its cake, you understand the internal struggle I face each year.  

Not really.  I'm just being dramatic.  It's what I do.

Well, if you were wondering if there was any possible way you could obtain one of the aforementioned cakes without shelling out any coin, look no further.

My friend, Mama Belle, is providing you a way to do just that.  First, you have to go here.  The rest is a piece of cake.  Pun intended.  

You're welcome and good luck!