He's all mine, Ladies.

B: Are you pregnant?
Me: Noooo, why?!
B: Aren't those maternity pants you're wearing?
Me: Uhmm, no.

Good to know I've been walking around in pants that made others debate whether to ask me my due date or not. :) For the record, I have on yoga pants with a foldover waistband, but I don't like to fold over the waist, so Bryan thought that part was the front panel of maternity pants. Nice.

wordless wednesday

Savannah, y'all!

A week ago, I was gettting a massage.

And, I was missing my family.

I had been in Savannah, GA with my mother-in-law and sister-in-law since Saturday and was heading to the airport that afternoon. The rental boat car was loaded with our luggage and all we had left to do was get a massage and eat lunch. It was a great ending to a fun trip.

We packed a lot into 4 days...shopping, eating, walking, eating, touring, eating, beach-ing, eating, relaxing. One of the best parts was getting to do all that without having to change any diapers, feed anyone else, answer a million questions, or clean anything up and with a full night of sleep. The Paula Deen tour was fun (actually the most entertaining aspect was the driver/guide). It included lunch at Uncle Bubba's Oyster House and we even got our pictures taken with Uncle Bubba! (I forgot my camera that day, so go here to see pics.) Uncle Bubba's was delicious. I could've eaten there a few more times. :) We drove out to Tybee Island on the one rainy day of our trip which also happened to be Lisa's birthday. I gathered shells and sand for my kids before the rain began. Of course, we ate at The Lady and Sons and, let me tell you, it did not disappoint. I had some high expectations. So high, in fact, that I started to wonder if it were possible for any restaurant to meet them. Perhaps, the "fatal flaw" was what saved my impression of our experience. That humanizing flaw was dessert. (Really, dessert. I know, the lady cooks with pounds of butter and sugar, but it really wasn't great.) But, by the time we ate dessert, my stomach was already so stuffed, it didn't matter. I ordered something I normally would never, ever get. The only reason I ordered it was for the dessert option. The only way to get Paula's Gooey butter cakes is to eat the buffet. I do not like buffets. I did like this buffet. I did not get a Gooey butter cake. I did get a red velvet cake that wasn't very good. Maybe nothing would've been very good at that point of satiation. The buffet was scrumptious though. I only wished I could've eaten more of it. :) We decided to turn in early that night and sleep off our gluttony.

While it felt recharging to get away and great to be with such fun ladies, I was ready to get back and see my people. I had driven Bryan's car to my parents house and my dad drove me to the airport, so he was supposed to be picking me up on Tuesday evening. We walked through the big revolving door at DFW airport and I found my baby, happy as a clam, sitting on his daddy's shoulders. He was wearing a "Welcome Home" sign. I couldn't get to them fast enough and the girls, with signs in hand, ran to meet me. The girls showered me with hugs and kisses. Levi was a little put off with me, but by Wednesday morning he was back to his old self. (Bryan kept telling me how tired Levi was. :) And, he probably was. It was almost bedtime for the girls - which meant it was past his bedtime - when my flight landed.)

The next day I should have unpacked and caught up on laundry. Instead I went to the grocery store and snuggled with my kids. I didn't have to clean because the house was spotless thanks to my thoughtful husband! It made the trip seem that much more relaxing because I was able to ease back into normal life. I am certainly back into normal life mode now, but find myself daydreaming about the next little girls' trip. :)

*We saw this van after lunch on Tuesday and it made me laugh.

"Libby, what did you do at preschool today?"

"I sitted down after I did my Mr. T. Then Mrs. Terri had a job for me and then after she had a job to me, she handed me a cup. And then after she handed me a cup, I putted eyes on my cup and after I did the eyes, I did the nose, and I did dirt and I did seeds. Then after I did seeds, I did water and now I leaved it at preschool and I'm gonna watch it grow at preschool. Every day when I go to preschool. And I played. I don't know what else I did. I took a nap. I sat by Cole at lunch. And somebody else."

All this was said with much emphasis and drama. And, with taking only 1 quick breath.

(Most days,) I enjoy Libby's language explosion. She can go on and on and on when telling a story and sometimes adds voices to make it more interesting. :) It is unusual to get a "nothing" or one-word answer from my 3 1/2 year old these days.

Be still my heart

We are getting one of these where I live. :)

No, because this is what happens!

At Levi's 12 month visit, the doctor asked if he was feeding himself with a spoon. I almost laughed out loud and asked him if he rememberd I had 3 kids. I've been through giving a baby a spoon and it ain't pretty. Instead, I just mumbled something about letting him feed himself finger foods. But, because I am plagued with NRBS (Not a Rule Breaker Syndrome), I have felt guitly each and every time I've spoon fed the kid since that appointment. The other day I let him go to town, so to speak. Here is photographic evidence that I don't have time to let him fine tune his spoon skills at this age. He went straight to the tub after this meal of sweet potato. And, you should have seen the floor...Zoe's idea of heaven. Maybe when he gets more than 2 teeth, enabling him to eat more than mush, we'll try again. Mush falls off a spoon too easily. It also mushes up even more in a baby's hands and then smears much too easily in that baby's hair. Especially when that baby decides to play peek-a-boo.

I am quite possibly the meanest mom alive.

I feel horrible.

I walked Addi to school just now and forced her to go in while she was crying. Not sobbing, but crying. We stood outside the doors until the last second with me trying to give her a pep talk and she continuing to cry. Perhaps, even harder with every word I uttered. (I think I've figured out my calling is not a coach, of any sort.)

I didn't think it was a big deal, but that's what happens with her. Things snowball and the next thing you know she's crying and can't seem to stop. (I don't know anyone else like this.)

This morning her nose was alternating between stuffy and runny. She wanted to stay home and play. Actually she said she was sick and needed to stay home so she wouldn't have to keep getting up during reading time to get a Kleenex. I won't lie. I was going to let her, but then I remembered she has swim lessons today and I couldn't let her take a "sick" day from school, but go to swim lessons. I reminded her of swim lessons and that she'd be spending the day in bed getting well instead of playing. That seemed to persuade her school was the way to go pretty easily.

Then I told her she needed to hurry and be down to eat by the time "the long hand is on the 6". I walked upstairs to get Levi when the long hand was on the 5 and she was still in her pajamas lazily brushing her hair. She informed me she wasn't going to be ready by the time the long hand reached the 6, so she "changed it to the 8". (How I would love to just change times of things when I was running behind!) Reminding her she wouldn't have time to eat if she waited until the 8 was enough to get her moving, but not without whining.

I opened her lunch box to throw a sandwich in and realized I hadn't looked in it yesterday and a warm yogurt and string cheese were waiting on me. That was the second day in a row she didn't eat those two things and I had to throw them out. Wasting food is one of my biggest pet peeves. More than a pet peeve. I almost get angry when we waste food. She saw my frustration and I tried to explain to her wasting food = wasting money and if we have extra money we could use it to buy food for little boys and girls who are hungry. She, apparently, doesn't fit into that category. Hearing she doesn't like that kind of yogurt was not exactly balm for my soul. I threw a sandwich and half an apple in her lunch and told her when she could manage to finish those and wanted more I'd put cheese in again. She told me she'd rather have chips. (Well, yeah, I'd rather eat Shipley's chocolate filled donuts and Outback's cheesefries with a side of Long John Silver's fried batter crispies all day long!)

We managed to leave for school about 5 minutes early, which was good because we had to stop twice along the 2/10 of a mile journey since she was limping. The more steps I took without verbally recongnizing her injury, the more pronounced her limp became. The cause of the limp? A scratch. I'm not even exaggerating. She even called it a scratch. The first time we stopped, I tried to by sympathetic and reason with her. I saw that scratch and can imagine it's hurting you, but walking funny isn't going to make it feel any better, sweet baby. The next time we stopped, I was a little less patient. Addi, just suck it up. It is a scratch. You don't hobble because of a scratch. You CAN be tough when you want to be. By the time you get to your classroom and see your friends, you'll forget all about the scratch. The tears really started flowing after that. So, we walked the rest of the way with people wondering why I was making my clearly injured daughter hobble to school. She had tears streaming down her face and was limping as if she'd broken a toe.

I'm about to email her teacher and make sure she's fine. Surely she's forgotten all about this morning. Certainly she's not writing about the events in her morning journal, right? (I mean that would really be unlike anyone in our family.) I'm telling myself that part of growing up is learning to comfort yourself. And, really. Really. What was she so upset about?? I could understand tears if I had raised my voice and berated her. The "just suck it up" speech was as mean as it got. Is that really mean? Now I wish I'd let her stay home today.

Tomorrow will be better.

UPDATE: She was fine by the time she got to class. Her teacher said she didn't even know anything was wrong and Addi told me she took a deep breath and made herself stop crying when she walked into the building. Why she couldn't have done that on the way to school, I have no idea! But, she did manage to make me feel guilty all day long. Motherhood is filled with guilt, it seems.

Just pull it, already!

Addison did her best to keep her tooth intact this weekend so she could pull it at school. After she brushed this morning, this is how it looked!

UPDATE: She couldn't stand it and pulled the tooth while eating her breakfast. I let her take it to school (against my better "teacher judgement") and she was allowed to show it to her classmates..."quickly!" I might need to make brownies for her teacher. :)

As If I Didn't Get Teased Enough Growing Up

Libby was listing each family member's first and middle names at supper tonight. She got my middle name, Laine, confused with our last name. Addi was quick to correct her and add that she doesn't really like my middle name because it sounds like my name is Ginny Lame.

Thanks so much. That's one I didn't hear in middle school. :)