Welcome Back!

I know it's been awhile since I've posted anything. I have been grading papers like crazy for my new job. I am finally caught up for the moment, and have blessed y'all with several new posts. I know I had a million more stories that I wanted to share, but I've forgotten them. I hope you enjoy the ones I've remembered.

You Might be a Redneck If....

I attended my first truly Texan birthday party. Sure, I've been to dozens of parties since I've been here, but none like this!

It was a typical swim party for the kindergartners. Abby, Hannah, and I were having a good time with their little friends. It could have been like any other party, until it turned Texan in one swift move. When the father of the six-year-old birthday girl bent down to throw away his plate, his gun fell out of his shirt and onto the floor. "Oops," he said casually before replacing it.

Let's review:
20 kindergartners
swim party
gun

Many people have asked me, "Is he a policeman?" NO! "Is there a reason he needs the gun?" Why, yes. He is a Texan.

God Bless America!

This happened several months ago, but I still chuckle about it. During a huge storm, Mike and I were watching the news. They had a weather girl outside, under a bank overhang. She was yelling into the microphone because it was so loud. There was large hail, fierce wind, and strong, heavy rain. During the 15 minutes we watched, the anchorman switched to her several times so that she could warn people to stay indoors due to the danger of the hail, possible tornadoes, and overall extreme weather.

The great part of the story is what was in the background. In the parking lot behind her, there was a fast-food restaurant. The drive-thru lane was filled with slow-moving cars, picking up their dinners. The entire 15 minutes she was yelling at the audience to take cover, car after car continued to go through the lane.

I thought it was a splendid taste of America.

Oh, Gross

Abby had splash day at school last week. I was instructed to bring her to school in her swimsuit and class T-shirt as a cover-up. It felt a little odd not putting pants on her, since the shirt only fell to her upper thighs. Nonetheless, I put her towel and change of clothes in her backpack before dropping her off at school.

When she came home, she was still wearing her cover-up shirt. I thought she must be cold if she never changed out of her swimsuit, so I took off her shirt to help her out of the suit. There was no bathing suit underneath. There was NOTHING underneath. My baby "couldn't find" her clothes, she said. So she just took her suit off and put her shirt - ONLY her shirt - back on.

Then she rode the bus home. (I still shudder when I think of it.)

If you would like to donate money to this cause, please send a check. No amount is too large. It will be used to pay for therapy and/or tetanus shots. We appreciate your support.

Blah, Blah, Blah

Hannah is a yakker. She never, never stops talking. Fortunately, this gives me plenty to laugh about.

* After begging me not to change her clothes, I finally got her shirt off. She looked at me and said, "WHAT did I JUST said?!"

* As Mike was leaving for work one morning, he attempted to get Hannah's attention while she was watching TV. He finally said, "Bye, Hannah, I'm leaving." In her catatonic, TV watching state, she murmured, "Bye. Thank you for coming to our house."

Fast Takes

I thought I'd share a few random pictures with you.

The girls and I went to a fair-type event and had a blast. They rode the Dumbo elephants,

saw Clydesdale horses,
and went kyaking.
Abby had fun at field day.
I told the girls that if we spent the morning at garage sales, they could each spend two whole quarters. Here, they are showing off their purchases. One of Hannah's finds had already been taken away. She bought a pink belt with a huge metal buckle which she whipped Abby with five minutes later.

Potty Training - Round Two

And the winner is. . . .

In the weeks before Hannah's third birthday, I told her that she would not be wearing diapers at three. She even repeated the mantra, "No more DIAPERS! 'Cause diapers are YUCKY!" She loved that phrase, so I thought that I had finally gotten through to her.

Then April 25th came. Abby told her, "Hannah, you're three today. That means no more diapers." Hannah grew more and more upset until she yelled, "Stop saying that! I'm NOT THREE!" I promptly took the diaper off, and the battle began. This child has the bladder of a camel. She held it in, with obvious discomfort, for hours at a time before peeing on the floor. I had loaded her with liquid, then sat her on the toilet for 45 minutes, and tickled her. She held it in. The only time she had ever peed on the potty was when she accidentally sneezed while being forced to sit there. At one point during her confinement, she began to sing, "Oh, God, You are my God. Earnestly I will seek You." It was the saddest, most frustrating thing ever. Bribery, time-out, candy - nothing phased her.

This went on for a week and a half. One morning, I took away the only thing I hadn't tried. Her blankie. I said, "You can have this back when you pee-pee on the potty." SHE DIDN'T CARE. That day, I was talking with two friends. One told me about an article she read. With stubborn children (I think I know one!), you are to put them in the bathroom, put a baby-gate up, and say, "Call me when you're done." Then you walk away. After all the screaming fights we had already had, I dreaded the thought. Then my other friend said, "I'll do it when I'm babysitting her tomorrow."

The next day, Hannah went to the babysitter's house. I said that I didn't want to know about it, and I left. Within 30 minutes, I received a text. "We have pee and poo in the potty." 20 minutes later, a second text announced, "Pee again." It was then that my eyes started to water. When I picked my stubborn, wild child up four hours later, she was fully potty trained and has not looked back since. What a magical day.

Special thanks to the potty-whisperer, Kelli Mills. You made my year.