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....