Celeste and the Chick

Today Celeste helped me to bake Caedmon's third birthday cake. During the preparation my phone rang and I got distracted momentarily. Celeste left the counter and returned after I got off of the phone. We got back to working on preparing the cake batter and Celeste says, "Mommy, I went and put an egg under my Pillow Pet so that it can turn into a chick." I had to control myself from bursting out laughing. She was soo serious! I explained to her that THESE eggs can't turn into chicks because they had already been allowed to get cold, so could she please go fetch the egg back so we could put it in the cake. She understood, and went and retrieved the egg off of her top bunk from underneath her ladybug pillow pet. Cutest. Thing. Ever.

Policeman Encounter

Yesterday, as I was on the way to the library in our- past due for inspection and Texas tags- Ford Explorer, I was driving along listening to a CD. At the same time I was also trying to listen to Celeste spell made up words. She was being very insistent that I could both listen to the music and translate the made up words she was spelling. While it is true that I was managing to do both, I apparently, couldn't do a third thing as well which in this case was to drive. As I pulled up to a stop sign, I stopped, (I thought... but in reflection maybe it was sorta a roll.), looked in all directions, noticed a cop car coming from the left, and then went ahead and made my right hand turn. Blue squiggly lights. Oh man!!

I pulled into a church parking lot and was so nervous I was trembling! This was my first experience being in the drivers seat with a wiggly pulling me over. I managed to pull out my license and proof of insurance. As the policeman approached my window, he asked that dreaded question: "Do you know why I pulled you over ma'am?"

My mind has a couple scenarios...

Scenario 1: I'm thinking, "Alright, I've got Alabama plates-never mind that I'm 60 days past due for having them changed over to represent Texas- and, I've also got an Alabama driver's license, my hair swooped up in a Sarah Palin style do, and make up nicely applied due to it being date night. I'm gonna put on my best Southern drawl and sweet talk my way right out of this ticket!" Celeste, all quiet while I'm answering a few questions, suddenly speaks up very loudly and inquisitively and says, "Mommy, why are you talking like that?"


Scenario 2: I'm thinking,LIE if he asks how long we've been in this state!"Well, Mr. Policeman, sir, I'm just here from Alabama visiting my lovely friends...The Haynes, Schleys, Easleys...we obviously aren't familiar with the streets and the stop signs and such. Nope, my conscience won't allow that.

But, what actually happened was,

Scenario 3: "Ma'am, do you know why I pulled you over?" I shake my head in a silent "No." Yes, I could guess that I must have run the stop sign, but I'm not gonna suggest it! He says, "Really?" So, I have to squeak out an audible, "No." He says, "Well, ma'am, first off, you ran that stop sign back there, AND, your brake lights are out!" I'm genuinely shocked. I play that up a little. "Oh no! I had NO idea!" Totally true. He gets my insurance card, walks away for a second, comes right back and says "Drive safe, and it's probably just a fuse on your brakes. Just get that checked out." Hands me my license and let's me go scott free...no warning, no nothing! It took me a good half hour to settle my nerves and start getting really grateful that he never even asked about what we were doing all the way here in Texas from Alabama. I would have been in sooo much TROUBLE.

Got the brakes fixed and the inspection done today! Off to the DMV tomorrow. :)

Blond Moment 1

Yes, blond moment "one" because I know there will be more!

I had conveniently forgotten about this story until my memory was triggered today while accompanying my husband to the gas station.

A few weeks ago, I went to take one of the many exams that I need to take in order to receive my certificate for teaching in the state of Texas. I made sure that I knew the location of the exam the night beforehand (which I am now remembering could also be another blond moment story), gave myself adequate amount of time to drive there that morning-enough time to go thru Starbucks on my way. On my way that morning, I looked down at the gas gauge and noticed that I needed to get gasoline. I had plenty of time, so I pulled in to the next gas station with easy access. Everything was going routinely. I got out of the car, swiped my card, followed the directions on the tank, selected the grade of fuel I wanted, and then put the nozzle into the car to begin fueling....no gas was coming out. The gas tank beeped at me and told me to select the grade of fuel I wanted...I did. I looked for the little 0000.00 to pop up...nothing. At this point I was very puzzled. I tried the whole process one more time and the gas tank told me to see the cashier. Obviously, this tank was messed up! I shrugged it off and got back in the car and pulled around to another tank. Strangely, this whole process repeats itself again. Feeling quite puzzled, and starting to get a little concerned about time, I decided to walk in to the store and ask about the tanks. Are they malfunctioning? What is wrong with them? Etc. I walk in and begin asking these type of questions and the gentleman behind the desk asks me to explain to him what is going on. I politely explain what I have encountered. He then simply asks me, "Are you trying to use the diesel nozzle instead of the gasoline nozzle?" As the reality of the truth of the situation sunk in, I imagine I turned several shades of red. I was trying to pump gas using the diesel nozzle!! Finally, after my third attempt, and despite my huge embarrassment, I successfully pumped the car full of gasoline and was on my way. I learned a great lesson that day... Husbands should fuel the cars up with gasoline. :)

Jack And The Beanstalk

Tonight as I read Celeste the story of Jack and the Beanstalk, she made quite a cute comment. We were up to the point where Jack is hiding in different places to get away from the giant. We read that Jack was going to sneak back into the castle yet again and Celeste interrupted and said, "Oh, Mommy, this time is he going to hide in the microwave?" I had to hold in my chuckle. She really enjoyed the story and at the end stated quite matter of factly and with a bit of a sigh- "That was a great story."

A Coffee Float

Definition: A coffee float is when you find something myterious floating in your coffee.

When I was about 8 years old, I had the wonderful chance to go on a road trip with my grandparents. This trip was so much fun-even though I spent an enormous amount of time with a die hard teaser-my Grandpa. His constant teasing got us into some pretty interesting situations on occasion. Most of which consisted of we grand kids screaming, laughing til we peed, or all out crying from the endlessness of the pestering.

This story is a result of this trip and happened as a result of my Grandpa's teasing me. We had stopped to eat breakfast, I think at Denny's. While we were waiting for our food, my Grandpa decided to flick wads of crumpled up napkins, straw paper, and random trash pieces at me to keep me entertained and pestered. Eventually I decided that I was going to get him back. I wadded up my straw wrapper and gave it a good sound flick. My Grandma, Grandpa, and I watched in dismay as the straw wrapper went flying way off course, over my grandparents heads, and landed kerplunk into a neighboring ladies full coffee mug. I don't know how we managed to keep from staring at the result, but all three of us completely ignored the other table like it didn't happen. I, of course, was absolutely horrified and embarrassed. I think maybe I started crying, thinking I was going to get into BIG trouble. Of course, they couldn't really punish me for something that had been instigated by my Grandpa himself. It is pretty funny experience to think back on now, and it is a story that has stayed alive in our family. That and how colicky I was as a baby...sorry Mom! :)

Kids Say The Funniest Things III

This morning, and I mean early, early this morning-Celeste came to the entry of our bedroom. She was calling me and wanted to come in and sleep in our room. I almost always say no to her, deal with the crying or whining and send her back to bed. This time though, I caved and let her come in and sleep on a palate on the floor. About ten minutes after we had both settled back into our sleeping spots around 5 am, I am just about to fall asleep and I hear Celeste say, "Mommy, I want roller skates for my birthday." What?? Why in THE world is my 3 year old thinking about her birthday at 5 in the morning? I mumbled something like, "That's nice, honey. Now go to sleep." We were both asleep in the next five minutes. When I woke up and remembered what she had said later that morning it definitely cracked me up.

Onyah stains

Last night as we were getting Celeste ready for bed I was instructing her to change into her pajamas and put her clothes into the dirty clothes hamper. I said, "Celeste, put your clothes in the hamper because you have spaghetti on you" The "on you" came out sounding like one blended word-onyah. She looked back at me and said, "Mommy, I don't have onyah on me-that's milk. See, that's spaghetti, and that's milk-not onyah." Just laughed and laughed over that it was so cute.

A Funny? Bunny Story

When I was a little girl I had a pet bunny. This bunny was the cuddliest, softest, brown bunny you have ever seen. She was named Thumper. A perfect name for a bunny. My dad built a cage for her out back in the chicken yard, and that is where she stayed. I would visit her and pet her ears and talk to her. As the time passed the novelty of having a pet bunny began to wear off. I visited her less often. She eventually grew pretty old. Now, my uncle and aunt had also picked up having bunnies, but for a different purpose, to eat them. Not a problem...rabbit tastes like chicken. One day I came home to find that my bunny Thumper had been given away to my aunt and uncle. Though this was upsetting to me at the time, I wasn't taking proper care of her anymore, and my attachment to her was purely sentimental, but I clearly wasn't happy about her being given away. I adjusted quickly as I was reassured that she was going to be a breeder rabbit, and I thought about how she would probably be better taken care of and I could still visit her whenever I wanted. (My uncles house was just yards away.) And so, Thumper began her life as a breeder rabbit. A problem developed quickly thereafter in that Thumper was too old to breed, so she wasn't an economical benefit in some very tough times for all of us living there on the Mi-Po. There was only one solution. Kill her and eat her. Now, this was told to me by my very well meaning cousins-that their family was planning to kill and eat Thumper soon. Well, the obviously predicatable hysteria insued. I think I pulled my first political protest to try to save the life of the rabbit. It all gets a little "fuzzy" from here, but I think I saved her life for that day. After the political unrest settled though, it wasn't too long after, that Thumper disappeared from her cage. The day I noticed this, I walked over to my uncles house shortly after dinner. My cousins came bounding outside onto the porch just having finished dinner as well. "What happened to Thumper?", I asked. "We ate her." they replied. Inside I was going crazy, but I somehow felt like they were trying to get a rise out of me, so I was stoic in response. All I could think to say was, "Did she taste good?" in an attempt to cover up any care about it. "No, she was too tough because she was so old." In my head I screamed, "WHAT!! You went and killed MY rabbit to eat her and then she wasn't any good, so she just got thrown out with the trash!! She died in vain! AHHH." I really have no recollection of anything after that moment. It's washed from my memory. I probably went home and had a fit of some sort. :-)

Oh well. I had to get over it. What was done was done.

Disclaimer: This is a story which I laugh about wholeheartedly now. It is one of those things that is horrifying in the moment, but somehow turns hysterically funny with time. I enjoy a good laugh when I share it. Who knew I would so closely be able to identify with my future sister in law who befriended a rooster, named Rebecca, who later got eaten by her neighbors...granted she did live in Guatemala! :-)

I wasn't the best in caring for my pets I guess. I will have to share the story about finding my frozen Guinea Pig sometime.

Dad's Birthday

Top Ten Things To Know About My Father

10. He can tell a great story. (I want to record him reading Unlce Remus!)

9. He is a sore loser if you beat him in Monopoly. HAH! Good luck.

8. He is a work-a-holic.

7. He is a sure shot-just ask the neighbors!

6. He played the part of Jesus without being sacriligious. (Who manages that!)

5. His FAVORITE past times are plumbing and mechanical work. (hehe)

4. He has great fish stories about other people's fish. (Mostly my brother's)

3. He makes great cobbler and plays corn toss like a pro. (They are both about food-sorta)

2. He can teach people how to waterski on their first attempt!

1. He is a really swavvy internet user, so leaving a comment will be a breeze for him!

Happy Birthday to the best Dad ever! Love you, Dad!

Cat story for Caleb's Birthday

Today is my middle brother, Caleb's, birthday. So, this story is for you!

When my brother Caleb was around 6, my brother Jared was 11, and I was 14 we owned an outdoor cat. Because of this, the cat was quite filthy. He was completely white when he was clean, but he had become a sort of North Carolina, clay brown color from being outside all of the time. Well, my brother Jared and I decided to give the cat a bath one afternoon. (I don't know where our parents were!) Our plan consisted of soaping up a dry cat and then filling the bath tub up with water real deep and tossing the cat into it. Sounds good,doesn't it? Well, even we knew at the time, that something didn't seem quite right about our plan, so we decided that it would be best for our younger brother, Caleb, to stay outside the bathroom during this cat dunking process. Of course, he didn't want to be left out and was making such a fit over it, that we finally gave in and let him come in. All three of us, and our cat, were crammed into our bathroom with the door securely shut so the cat couldn't escape. We somehow managed to get the cat all soapy, but he did escape once or twice and jog around the bathroom. The cat was definitely not feeling good. It had come time to "rinse" the cat in the tub which was left up to me since I was the oldest. Now mind you, at this point in time, I was cloked in my heaviest, puffiest winter coat which made me look like the Michelin man and my thickest gloves thinking to protect myself from the claws of the cat. My brother Jared had followed suit. Come to think of it, that is probably why the bathroom felt so crowded! It was dead middle of summer and my brother Caleb was just wearing a pair of shorts trying to keep cool. I manage to get the soapy, wriggly, nervous cat gathered up into my hands. My brothers and I clearly intend to bolt out of the bathroom and close the door real fast after throwing the cat into the tub. We wanted to make sure the cat stayed shut up because we were pretty sure that the cat would at least need a double dunk. I slowly crept over to the top of the tub and suspended the cat above the water. I am issuing a warning to my brother to stay back, but they are way to curious to listen to that advice. They are peering around me creeping in on either side. I drop the cat into the water. As fast as I could drop that cat into the water, it rocketed out faste. It had gone WILD! It seemed like that cat leaped right off of the surface of the water without even getting wet. The cat bounced off of the toilet, onto the vanity, and then promptly to the next highest place it could find- which happened to be my youngest brother's bare back. You have never heard so much racket as three kids going crazy, one screaming from having a cat stuck by it's claws onto their naked back. Caleb was hollering louder than the cat was screeching. We managed to get the frozen cat off of my brother's back, but needless to say, we didn't finish bathing the cat. We learned our lesson...always dress up like the Michelin Man when bathing a cat using the soap and dunk method! We never bathed our cat again.

Caleb, do you have any scars from this or just a scarred memory? Fun memories, fun times...at least for me and Jared! Happy Birthday brother! We love you, really.

Smell of the Skunk

Last night, we were driving home from a lovely visit with my parents and brother, when all of the sudden, we were struck with the too familiar smell of the skunk. I was wondering if anyone else has ever smelled skunk so strongly that it permeates your tastebuds? It was that strong last night! I have had this happen to me a couple of times, and I am wondering if I just have a super sensitive sense of smell or if this happens to other people also. If so, I'm sorry. Skunk does not taste good!!

Me Vs. The Flea

More recently than I would like to admit, my family had an encounter with something that I never want to encounter again. We have a very dear, sweet, American long haired cat, named Solitaire. We adopted him from a home in Birmingham one day when we were out garage sale hunting as we often like to do. Since we knew he was going to be an indoor cat we took him promptly to be fixed and declawed as soon as he was old enough. Things had been sailing along smoothly with our little kitty, aside from the nuisance of cat hairs being everywhere which I suppose is common enough, until I came home one afternoon to our nanny, Elisha, who announced that she had seen a flea upstairs in the house. I was working full time and didn’t have much room for any extra information in my brain at the moment, so for that reason, this “flea” didn’t strike immediate alarm in my mind like it should have. And, boy, it should have! I went out and bought a flea collar for our cat from Wal-Mart and thought, “Okay, that should take care of it!”, and proceeded to go about the rest of my week. Each following day, however, Elisha was giving us an updated flea report. Contrary to what I had expected had begun to happen. The number of fleas were increasing!! This caught my attention, but sadly, it was a little too late. We encountered a FULL BLOWN flea infestation!!!! I decided that these fleas were NOT going to be permitted to live in my house, and so I declared all out war. No one told me that you can’t do war with fleas and win which I now must confess I learned from experience. Nonetheless, I set about cleaning, mopping, vacuuming, bombing, and flea powdering the house…the embarrassing part…on a daily basis. I think when it was all said and done and I was waving a white flag and calling the exterminator, I had set off six bombs and gone through several cans of flea powder. Not to mention that I spent far too much time, energy , and money trying to get rid of the various stages and cycles of fleas now residing in our house. The exterminator had to come twice in order to get rid of them! Solitaire wins the award for being our most expensive garage sale find. He was 300 dollars to fix and declaw, 200 dollars to bath and Frontline, and 360 dollars to have his fleas exterminated from the house. If anyone would have told me that I would have had to pay nearly 1,000 dollars for this cat at the garage sale, I would have said “No!”

The saying sure is true: An ounce of prevention is worth a pound of cure. Now, maybe I can make some of this money back by advertising my story for Frontline?? :-)

HOW TO GET RID OF FLEAS 100% GUARANTEED:
Seal up all personal belongings and lock them inside your home. Douse home with gasoline. Light a match and ignite house. Stay nearby to make sure that the fire department is NOT called and that your house burns to the ground. Sweep up remaining ashes trying to catch as many fleas still hopping around as possible and seal up in an airtight plastic bag. Relocate. It worked for us!

Future article: Top Ten Ways You Know You Are Infested With Fleas

Advice from a 3 year old

This morning as I woke up, my daughter, very informatively, came into our bedroom and said,
"Daddy, if you put your finger up your nose, it will help you not to sneeze." It was great to start the day with a laugh!!

Bananas: $1.03 Hamburger Buns: $1.78 Daughter sleeping in cart while shopping: Priceless!!