Here is some very rational thinking...

I am watching my neighbor's 15 month old little boy, Ayden. He is the absolute CUTEST thing ever and is very well behaved, willing to listen, and easy to redirect. I will be watching him all week. So that puts the number of children UNDER the age of three living in this house from 6:45am to 4:15pm to a grand total of three...that is A LOT of little people. At least for me. I know many super-moms who do it from sunup to sundown, but I do not wish to become one of those sorts of moms on a regular basis! Anyway...here is my rational thinking. Two children is a natural number...you have two parents and those two parents are equipped with: two hands, two feet, two legs, two eyes, two ears...you get where I'm going? Two is just PERFECT in my book, some say 7 is God's perfect number, but I think it might just be 2...I'm certain come next Monday morning when I am back to my usual two biological children, my life will--for a short time--feel like a breeze!

Once upon a time...Happily ever after...

You know, I got to thinking...the fairy tales (Cinderella, Snow White, Sleeping Beauty...) NEVER mention home ownership, broken appliances, finances, CHILDREN....They never start off "Once upon a time Cinderella and her prince came home to their castle and their royal refridgerator was just not keeping the food cold anymore" and they NEVER end "They lived happily ever after...with two crazy children who wake up at the MOST inappropriate times (if you catch my DRIFT) and a dog that poops all over the living room" Just a thought...and I'm NOT bitter...and I don't wish to actually LIVE in a fairy tale world...just a simple observation...I do strongly believe however, that I found my prince. He may be a little hairy and a LOT odd (somedays he's still a FROG prince), but he's my prince just the same and when he's gone I miss him like I'd miss my right arm if someone cut it off...I love ya Earl...I'm glad to have you home, even if it's just for 24 hours.

Being a grown up bites...

'Member my day yesterday...yah, to ice THAT lovely dog poo covered cake--the washing machine began to leak early yesterday afternoon. Fantastic. Just flippin' fantastic. Please note: I CLOTH diaper my baby...we have a messy three year old and a dog that crapped everywhere only yesterday morning...we are a ONE income family...Broken washing machines are really not good in this house. So fast forward to today...guy comes to "diagnose" the problem and tells me that the "drain plug" is leaking....blah, blah, blah..."gonna cost ya $250 to fix it and oh yeah, you have transmission fluid leaking out of the machine as well" Right...THIS cannot be a good thing. And in fact it is not..."they" (don't know who "they" is) do not "rebuild" washing machine transmissions and he suggested that WHEN (not if) the transmission goes, our best option would be to get a new washing machine. So I call Danny...we decide to pay the guy his $78 service call fee and go washing machine shopping tomorrow. I am beside myself. And please, if you're reading this, don't offer any advice or solace or words of eternal wisdom...I don't need that, I just need to write. The devil "gets" me with money...he snares me, traps me with the thought of debt (which we seem to once again be incurring now days) and financial ruin. So THAT hellish place is where I am right now...I KNOW that we are blessed, and that God is here SOMEWHERE...I just can't seem to look up from my "wallering" long enough to see EXACTLY where He is...I don't WANT a new washing machine...I want my OLD washing machine...it is paid for...Oh and have I mentioned that this is the 4th appliance we have had go to CRAP in this house? The 4th one...seriously...seriously...We have lived here LESS than a year and have already bought a new dryer and a new refrigerator...Being a grown-up bites.
P.S. The word "wallering" is NOT recognized when you do "spell check"...that's an Okie word...just FYI.

What a morning!!!

We have two big dogs that live in the house. They love us, they tolerate our children, they are members of our "pack"...We also have a BIG wool area rug in our living room (don't worry this will all make sense in just a few short paragraphs) This particular rug was a bought for a DEAL at only $188...I was thrilled to find it at such a fantastic price and it lookED great in our living room. Well, about 2 months after we bought this beautiful rug...Simon (one of the aforementioned dogs) chewed a small corner off of it. It is pure miracle that he is still living after doing such a thing, but I found a way to "hide" the "defect" and we went along our way living life in this house with a lovely rug to decorate our living room. So this morning (EARLY this morning, before the sun was up) I was awakened by our other dog, Harry (the village idiot if you will)...seems he had to relieve himself. I traipsed downstairs half asleep, and let him out to do whatever business he needed to do. He disappeared into the darkness of our backyard and returned about 10 minutes later....ready to be let back inside. We traipsed BACK upstairs, I collapsed back into bed and all was quiet--UNTIL Harry began to whine again. "GO LIE DOWN HARRY" I hollered...he continued to whine and pace, pace and whine. I rolled out of bed and a familiar odor became VERY apparent. I flipped the lights on to find out exactly what was happening...Yes, you've guessed it--Harry had an accident, a big accident...on my beautiful rug. It's not his fault I know, but it certainly was NOT the way I had planned on waking up (I much prefer the smell of COFFEE in the morning, not dog poo). At this point, I'm fairly certain that my neighbors are now suspicious that I have killed my husband. Here's why...
--Earl's work car has been parked in the driveway (without moving) for the past week (he's on a business trip),
--the rug is rolled up and on the curb for the big trash pick-up (I just couldn't put my baby down on that rug after what Harry did to it...it just didn't seem right)...
--the carpet that USED to be between the garage door and the basement is out on the curb too (YES, I ripped that up as well....at 6 am this morning...pulling that up was surprisingly liberating!)
--and Stanley Steemer carpet cleaning has already come and gone this morning.

BUT...as I was sitting outside while the guys cleaned the carpet, I had a revelation. I was worried about the money I was spending to get the dog poo cleaned off the carpet, I was thinking about the first of the month bills I needed to pay, I was calculating the numbers in my head...I was fretting over finances, I was thinking perhaps it would make more sense for me to go to work and make some money, the devil was GETTING to me...then my three year old whizzed past me on her little red tricycle, flashed me a big grin and screamed "MOOOOOMM, watch this"--I looked up to WHERE in life I was, and I realized how blessed I am by the sacrifices Danny and I choose to make. It was (is) a beautiful morning, I get to watch my children grow and blossom and ride their tricycles and I never have to worry if they're being hurt or if they're getting the right nutrition. I never have to worry that Sam's diaper isn't being changed often enough or if he's getting the right amount of cuddles and kisses...and I never have to feel guilty that SOMEONE else is giving him those cuddles and kisses instead of me. I even got to spend some time with my wonderful neighbor friend, Lucy. I am truly blessed...and we'll never have enough money...never...the devil reminds me of that often, but we will have those moments with our kids that you can never get back and THAT doesn't cost a thing. (Plus that tricycle was only $5 at a garage sale) So my blog-reading friends, that is what a morning filled with poo has taught me...funny how you have to be knee deep in dog poop before you realize the blessings all around you.

You asked to see a picture...

This is the planter that almost broke my back...nice find, huh????!!?? (See previous post titled "Random, random, random" for entire story!!)

And now...

And now, I'm addicted to facebook...seriously people, when will this internet addiction end?? It's not like I have BETTER things to do...but I JUST CAN'T stop typing. Walk away from the keyboard Kathryn...just WALK AWAY...WAIT--Add me as your "friend"...
On a much more GROWN-UP note: I started the "One Month to Live" book today. Our church is doing a sermon series over it and has challenged us to read the book...I like a challenge. I don't like to CHANGE so much though...soooo this will be interesting. I pray that God opens my eyes and leads me into a more fulfilling life, a life lived for TODAY and not "someday"--"someday when the bills are paid...when the kids are grown....when Earl is back in town". Right now, I just feel like I'm going through the motions, the devil "gets" me with worry. I did have an amazing "God" moment in church today. I just plain WORSHIPPED the Lord...raised my voice (almost raised my hands *gasp* but the life long Methodist within just couldn't do it...maybe NEXT week) and praised Him. It was like I was the only person in the sanctuary--haven't felt that in a long time...I guess He's always there huh? We just gotta open our hearts.

Random, random, random....

Here goes with the random-ness I warned you about...

So...if I were a betting woman (which I'm not, but if I WERE) I'd bet on my daughter, because while her behavior is not "model behavior" it is consistent (at least for NOW--my mom always says "The only thing that stays the same is that everything changes") She is the "cryer" in her preschool class. That's right ladies and gents...we dress for preschool, we wear the tennis shoes instead of crocs--and we are HAPPY about it because that's what "big girls" wear, we dress for the color of the day (today was red), we are EXCITED!!!...we carry our backpack on our BACK, we have a smile on our face, we are BIG, we are THREE!!...until...we hit the bottom of the stairs. Then...we cry...and run...once, in all our frustration, we kicked, then mommy got mad, so the kicking hasn't happened again. I'm told by Ms. Wendy that this "episode" lasts all of 2 or 3 minutes, but it happens just the same--every morning we go to preschool. At least she's consistent...

Earl and I installed the "top of the stair" gate two nights ago. You have to have a thing like this in your house if you have a baby that is mobile. We do. His name is Sam and I have NO idea HOW he got SO big and so mobile. He is a rolling machine. Wasn't he born just a few short months ago??

My body is protesting me. I went for a run on Monday morning outside (the first time to actually RUN on the REAL ground in over a year) and I found a HUGE cement planter...HUGE...in a large trash pile. When I finished my run, I hopped in the car and went BACK for the cement planter. I asked the lady throwing it away to help me load it--I still have no idea how we got it in the back of the car. Then I came home and asked Earl to help me UNLOAD it...He happily obliged...he is used to this sort of craziness after 6 years of marital bliss. Now, I have never seen him struggle to lift much of anything, but as he tried--by himself-- and failed to lift this pot out of the back of our van I knew this was a pot that must stay where I placed it--the FIRST time. No moving this thing around to get it in "just the right spot"--it seriously has to weigh over 200lbs!!! So together we lifted the planter out of the back of the van...tearing his pants and cutting my finger in the process. As we were JUST about to get it on the ground, Earl looked at me and said "THIS is a Toni Bailey moment"...All I can say to that is "Buddy you KNEW what you were getting into when you married me"!!!! And for the record, the planter looks just LOVELY with my fall mums in it!!! So...I went on the run, lifted a huge cement planter and then...in all of my infinite wisdom I decided to dig up the rosebush in our side yard. It's not just some dainty rosebush, this thing is a MONSTER. I BROKE THE SHOVEL trying to dig it up...IN TWO PIECES...Okay, let's review--1) run 2) 200 lb cement planter 3) Massive rose bush dug up and bundled for the trash... Now...let's talk about my back...all I can say to you is OUCH!!!!!!!! And where is the heating pad...

You still with me?? Good...thanks for reading.

A little history

There is a story that my sweet mother-in-law tells of my husband when he was a little boy (there are LOTS of stories actually...but that would be an entire blog site in and of itself)...THIS particular story involves my husband and the early onset of his love of food. She says that one night she took the boys (Danny and his brother Billy) to McDonald's. Both boys ordered "Happy Meals"--Billy, the "meat eater" ordered extra hamburgers...Danny, the "carb eater" ordered extra fries. Billy made short work of the hamburgers...but apperently Danny didn't have enough time to finish his fries, so when Jeanie (my mother-in-law) announced that it was "time to leave", Danny frantically stood up and SHOVED the remainder of his fries IN HIS POCKETS....

I tell this story because it spills into a much more current story involving our darling daughter (most obviously sewn thick with Danny's genetic material). Tonight we went to out to eat for dinner to our new favorite restaurant Jason's Deli (they have a SMOKING salad bar...if you haven't gone--go)...we ordered salads, Grace ordered a cheese pizza, Sam ordered ninny milk and cheerios. The children's meal comes with a trip to the soft serve ice cream machine. Grace picked chocolate ice cream (no surprise there). She is a slow eater much like her Aunt Emily...a bite of pizza here, a bite of ice cream there, a bite of mommy's salad, a bite of pizza--you get my drift. The ice cream began to melt....Danny and I were finished...it was time to go, so we gave Grace a warning--"One more bite, then it's time to leave". Grace picked up her spoon in her sweet, sticky fingers and began to SHOVEL ice cream into her mouth. Bite after frantic bite...scraping the bowl to get EVERY LAST DROP of chocolate. THEN she picked up the bowl and tipped it into the air, brought it to her mouth and began to DRINK the remaining melted ice cream--when the bowl was returned to the table, Grace had ice cream on her nose and forehead. The employees stopped their work to watch, Danny and I bit the insides of our cheeks so as not to laugh out loud...then we called Jeanie, my mother-in-law...the force is strong with this one.

I'm being "reinstated"

I miss being a nurse...there I said it...I know, I know--mommy-ing is the MOST important thing in my life right now, and while I have lots of "band-aid and cream" application experience, I REALLY miss the gore and guts that used to be part of my life. I like being in the cool, clean, ORGANIZED and mostly quiet atmosphere that is an operating room. I like defining myself as a mom AND a nurse. I like seeing really weird and really gross parts of the human body and I like the adrenaline rush that comes from racing down the hallway to grab one more pint of blood. It's not even really about my bringing in extra money, it's about fulfilling a passion in my life, about doing something that I KNOW I'm good at, something God created me to do. So...I'm being reinstated...that's right, I let my nursing license lapse (it was due in May--I've been a little busy okay), the Oklahoma Board of Nursing is making me fill out 13 pages of mindless paper work to get back a small piece of paper that makes it legal for me to poke and prod and see parts of the human body most people never WANT to see. At least I don't have to take the boards again...

Something to make you laugh...

Sometimes you find crazy eye glasses at the thrift store *new in package*...
Sometimes your three year old convinces you to buy them...
Sometimes you (and your three year old) put them on the 5 month old baby brother...and laugh hysterically...
Poor Sam...



P.S. The swing sold...I have money in hand...I am SO okay with having money and NO swing...

Okay...it's done...

I am selling the baby swing. You know, the apparatus you set up in your house when you have a baby, you put batteries in it (LOTS of batteries...
LOTS), and it swings your baby into their "happy place"--you need one of these sorts of things when you have a baby. But...I am selling mine. It is in the back of the car--loaded to go to a consignment sale. And I am crying. I am crying because selling this swing means I will never have another baby in need of swinging living in my house. Selling this swing means MY babies have long three year old legs that carry them up the stairs and down the slide at the preschool playground and they hardly need rocking any more, much less SWINGING or they are becoming so mobile they end up trying to heave their growing body over the side of the seat on the MOVING swing, onto the floor, toward the dog...or the sister...or the remote. Selling this swing closes a chapter in my life--a chapter I very much have enjoyed. I like babies...I like being pregnant...I like nursing a baby and smelling their sweet sour milk breath...I like tiny clothes and even tinier socks. However, I also like growth, and yes...even change. I like to see discovery on my children's faces--I like to watch my daughter marvel at the wonders of this world and ask "How you do that?" (every 5 minutes) and I like to hear her SING!!! at the TOP of her lungs as we wheel our way through Wal-mart...I like to watch my son slowly piece together how the world works and roll, roll, roll to his heart's content...and I like to see God in action--fast, swirling, singing, twirling, crying, laughing, learning, helping, sharing, fit-throwing, coloring, drooling, grinning action. So I'll sell this swing...and cherish the pictures I have of my children as teeny tiny babies swaddled and sleeping as it rocked them back and forth, back and forth. Now where is that baby gate??

Preschool...here we come!!!!!

Just FYI-->Here's who WE'RE voting for... :)

On a much more serious note: Grace has "Meet the Teacher" night at preschool tonight! I CANNOT BEGIN to tell you how thrilled I am to send her into the capable and loving hands of a person WILLING to teach my three year old!! Have you ever tried to teach a three year old?? Seriously...
Now, don't get me wrong...I LOVE my sweet little daughter, but we are READY (more than ready) for this milestone. Preschool is at our church and it is 2 mornings a week for 2 1/2 hours...2 1/2 glorious hours. Grace keeps asking when I will "leave me at the church, now I can color, and then you come back and get me...okay? Yea, sure." Sam and I plan on airing up the tires on the jogging stroller and heading out to enjoy nature via a pair of running shoes and an Ipod. Although I just watched the weather...guess what the chance of rain on Wednesday is (the first day of preschool)?---Yea, 70%...lovely. Maybe we will enjoy the treadmill in the basement and a QUIET cup of coffee instead....