Seriously Wicked

Originally published in the Miami News-Record on February 14, 2016. 

Last week I saw a post on Facebook that the musical “Wicked” was going to be in Springfield. I have wanted to see if for years, but last year when it was in Tulsa I wasn’t able to justify the expense. I couldn’t this year either, but just for fun I shared the post and said something to the effect of “If someone could tell my mom about this that would be great.” Mom is adamantly anti-Facebook and I knew she’d never see it and never did I dream someone would actually TELL my mom what I said. But lo and behold, one of her high school friends sent her a text message with my post copied and pasted in it.

About two hours later I got a phone call from Mom asking if I had plans for the following Thursday. I looked at the calendar and said I was free. Then she asked if the kids could take care of themselves. I said that yes, they were quite capable of that these days. Then she said, “Okay, well, I am taking you to see Wicked. Clear the whole day.”

I literally busted into tears right there in my office chair. It was probably pretty ugly, but I didn’t care because I was so dang happy. When I hung up the phone I ran into the living room where I screamed to my husband and kids, “I’M GOING TO SEE WICKED NEXT WEEK!” Paul just looked at me blankly and said, “Okay. (pause) Uhm. What’s Wicked?” Then I went into this babbling mess of words that somehow tried to convey the story. He just shook his head then asked, “Do I have to go? Because that sounds pretty awful.” Then I told him no, he wasn’t invited. He was totally okay with that. The kids were offered the opportunity. All three turned it down. I all but begged them to relent and just allow themselves the indulgence that is musical theatre. They politely and repeatedly declined. I am pretty sure I have failed them as a mother.  

In the week before the show I downloaded the entire soundtrack and listened to it ad nauseum. I worked diligently on hitting the high note at the end of “Defying Gravity”. On Saturday while putting the final touches on Paul’s birthday dinner I was doing a dramatic lip sync in the kitchen. At the end, standing there with arms outstretched, head thrown back, mouth open, I was totally in the zone. I opened my eyes to see Abby and her boyfriend staring at me, Dakota with this horrified look on his face. Abby just shook her head, looked back down at her phone and said, “Get used to it. If you think she’s bad now, wait until she actually sees the show. She’ll be SO much worse.” Dakota replied, “Well, I’ve been around her when she’s watched ‘Chicago’ so I know what she’s capable of.”

My sister, her two oldest kids, Mom, and I packed into the Prius at 9am the day of the show. Before we got to Joplin my mascara was in danger because I had already been laughing so hard. We discussed Super Bowl commercials, growing up, and the price of gas. We ate lunch at Lambert’s where the rolls were flying and the okra was hot. We finally trekked our way to the theatre and found our seats. I was in awe. Heck, I still am. In fact, as I write this I am still on a bit of a giddy high. As I write this, it’s nearly 11pm and I am not ready to go to bed and end this amazing day.

I cried when Elphaba defied gravity. I cried during the entire finale. I was probably the happiest 43 year old woman in the entire building. Then I teared up again the parking garage as I thanked my momma for making me wickedly happy. My mom is kind of the best. 

The Sisterhood

Published in the Miami News-Record on April 26, 2015

Girlfriends are a necessity of life. I have had the same core group of girlfriends since 1^st grade. Over the years our numbers waxed and waned, people were ushered in, some faded out, some moved, but the same fundamental group is still among my dearest friends. The kind you can go awhile without talking to, but when you see each other again you pick right back up like you just saw them an hour ago.

When I was in college I had work friends. As a newlywed I got couples friends. Then with children came new people – other parents with kids my kids’ ages. Now I have homeschooling friends, too. But these ladies from grade school …. well, we are the ones who know each other’s darkest fears, secrets, wishes, dreams, and as we get older, health issues as well. Goodness knows we commiserate about gray hair, aching backs, sneeze pees, and bone density more and more as the years go by.

Last week I got together with this group of four other ladies for dinner. Three of us started Kindergarten together, one joined our merry band in 7^th grade, and the other was my little sister, who didn’t attain “cool” status until she was 15 or so and was then allowed into our circle. (I was so gracious, I know.) One of our crew was missing, but we’ll wrangle her in next time. We sat at a table at Los Dos Amigos for a ridiculous amount of time – well, until they turned the “Open” sign off. (To the staff there, you fellas are a patient crew and very gracious hosts. To the other diners that night, I hope we weren’t too annoying with our laughter and reminiscing. My apologies if we were. Truly. You have no idea the therapy that was going on.) Then after we paid our tab (and left big tips) we stood in the parking lot talking until 11:00, well past my elderly bedtime these days.

We had slumber parties starting in the 5^th grade. Most of us were in band together. We have so many blackmail-worthy photos of each other it’s not even funny. We fought passionately, cried together, and shared a boyfriend or two. We attended weddings, mourned the loss of babies, went camping together, babysat each other’s kids, and two of us still send letters and cards in a time of email. 

We’ve comforted in times of divorce and congratulated on graduations and grandbabies. Now we are all in our 40’s (except my little sister who isn’t far behind) and all of us are coloring our hair purely out of necessity now. We all wear glasses and several of us are in the dreaded bifocals. While two of us are still driving sportscars (lucky!), the rest of us are in minivans and SUVs that will haul our broods around. One of us has a baby, one has a toddler, and one of us is a new grandma. We all cross our legs when we sneeze now.

A woman who knew all of us from our days back at Wyandotte High, stopped by our table to say hello. She remarked at how we had stayed friends for so long. DeLisa, my first friend from age 5, said it best with her reply: “We’ve loved each other, hated each other, and now we love each other again.” I don’t think we ever hated each other, but man, did we fight back in the day.  Thankfully we’ve moved past all that and found our way back to the sisterhood.  

That night of chips, salsa, shared pictures, stories, laughter – so. much. laughter. – was balm for my soul. I didn’t know how much I needed those girls at this very point in my life until I drove away that night still giggling all the way home over “muddy chewbaccas” and how we all got tickled and simultaneously crossed our legs while we laughed until we cried.  

Humor Me

I'm a funny gal. I'm not bragging that I have mad comic skillz or anything, but uhm....I won Best Humor Blog twice in the Okie Blog Awards. I don't think they just give those out to the morose and humdrum. As a general rule, anyway. I've always been a bit of a cutup, a goofus and up until a few years ago when the avoidant personality took over, outgoing and willing to do just about anything for a laugh. Now, I tend to pour my humor into writing and save the oral shenanigans for those I love most, those nearest to me, my peeps if you will.

Oh my gosh, I just used the word "peeps" on my blog and I wasn't talking about baby chickens. Heaven help me.

Now, my husband is a funny guy, too, but he is, more often than not, just accidentally funny. He does not share my love of slapstick, sarcastic, off-the-wall stuff, stuff that is so weird and ridiculous you can't help but laugh. Or I can't help but laugh, anyway. When I was rolling on the couch (literally) the first time I watched Napoleon Dynamite he was sitting in the recliner looking at the TV then looking at me and shaking his head. We've watched it so many times now he'll chuckle in a few places, but I really think he's laughing at the kids and me more than the stuff on the screen. We rarely laugh at the same things. Where I was laughing so hard I snorted during Date Night he dozed off and my snorting woke him up. He did like The Hangover, but only because it was raunchy and had lots of cuss words. He does not like Saturday Night Live. I can bust into a loud rendition of Dana Carvey's "Choppin' Broccoli" and giggle at my own self, while he'll look at me blankly and say, "Why are you singing about broccoli? And who is this lady you bought broccoli for? What's broc-o-lay? Is that a kind of broccoli?" And at that point, depending on my mood, I will either bust out laughing at him or just leave the room in frustration to go sing about broccoli somewhere else.

But then there are times he does something like this: (excerpt from this post)

Mom got Paul some flannel pants for Christmas and these are the softest flannel pants I've ever felt in my life. He realllllly likes those pants. The second night he owned them, I was in the kitchen fixing a glass of tea when I heard him holler for me to "comere". Tea glass in hand, I walked around the corner and saw him standing just outside our foyer, with his hands on the banister, his legs about shoulder-width apart. He looked at me over his shoulder and in a thick Mexican accent said, "These are my recreation pants. Do you like them?" Then, just like Jack Black did in the movie, squeezed his buttcheeks and shot me a sexy look and I spit tea across my dining room. Then he took one hand off of the banister, put it on his hip then turned around and sauntered towards me while I was still choking on sweet tea and then he said, "Sometimes you wear stretchy pants.........just for fun."

And those moments are gold, people, pure comedy gold. Because it's so unlike him.
 
So, knowing our children share the same parents, it was a 50/50 gamble as to whether our kids would have a sense of humor or not.
 
If I've heard it once I heard it 43, 273 times: "Your mom". And by "Your mom" I mean, the age-old slam. The ones I remember growing up were like, "Your mom is so fat when she sits around the house she sits around the house" and "Your mom is so ugly she makes a mud fence in a rain storm look pretty" and the likes. Well, my children have taken this once-insult to the ridiculous. I can holler from the utility room, "Kids come get your laundry!" and I guarantee I will hear the reply from at least one of them, "Your mom's laundry." Abby is the worst, by far. I asked her if she wanted a slush at Sonic the other day. She said, "Your mom's a slush." When I ignored her and then asked what flavor she wanted she replied, "Your mom's a flavor."
 
Sigh.
 
The other day, I kid you not I heard that my mom was:
 
--a corn dog
--a front porch
--a flappy pappy
--a rotten French fry
--a stray dog
--a pothole
--a Walmart
--a hay bale
--a sofa
--a Vienna sausage
--a spider web
--a dish soap
--a tree frog
--Rice Krispy Treat
--boob sweat
 
and many, many more.
 
Okay, to be honest, the last two were from my friend, Stacie, who got in on the fun via text message and nearly made me wreck while driving down Main I was laughing so hard.
 
Yesterday we were in the van talking about car accidents and how each of the kids are getting pickups for their first vehicles because they can only fit one other person in the cab and not a whole slew of kids, thus avoiding the need for me to get a prescription for Xanax and possibly therapy every time one of my kids leaves the house. The two oldest groaned at the thought of only being able to haul one friend (and of course, I heard, "Your mom's a truck" from the backseat, too) and I said, "Well, I'm only trying to save your lives," and crossed my arms to signal the discussion was over. Then Kady, who posesses amazing butt-kissing abilities, said, "Well, Mom's right. Teenagers acting stupid and horsing around is the main cause of traffic accidents in America today."
 
Of course, when she said that I chuckled and said, "Thank you, Kady, with that report from the eight-year-old traffic safety commission." Without missing a beat she said, "And now .... back to you, Kristin."
 
I thought Paul was going to have to pull over to the side of the road he was laughing so hard. She's the one that is funny accidentally, like her daddy.
 
Sam's my slapstick hero. He's The Three Stooges all wrapped up into an episode of SNL and any movie starring Steve Martin. He can make faces, fall down, run into things and act goofy better than any kid I know. He never fails to make everyone around him crack up.
 
These past few weeks have been particularly hilarious around here. It seems like daily one or all three of them have spouted off with something particularly hilarious, like so funny the whole family cracks up simultaneously. I'm not sure if it's just my stress level causes me to laugh at things I don't ordinarily find funny, or if it's because the kids have just figured out how to say things at just the right time so they know they'll get a snort out of me. Either way, they are quickly becoming masters at the art of tickling my funny bone. And besides....
 
 
 
 
 
Your mom's a funny bone.

Winner Winner Possum Dinner!

In all the cacophony and hubbub and utter absolute chaos these last few weeks I totally forgot to put a thank you post up for everyone involved in the 2009 Oklahoma Blog Awards.

In the past Mike Hermes, our beloved Little Axe-ian from Okie Doke, has taken on this seemingly insurmountable task, but due to the fact that he's trekking up a mountain in search of Shangri La or Oompa Loompas or The Whos on that little speck of pollen, he let someone else take over this year. (Really, I doubt he's trekking up a mountain, but it still put an air of mystery around the man, the myth, the legend, huh?) Jennifer James from Are You There God? It's Me, Generation X took the reigns and ran with it. She did a bangup job and really needs a pat on the back, a round of applause and maybe a box of Girl Scout cookies. Or I could make her one of those potholders on Kady's little loom thingy.

I was nominated in one category this year, a new category: Best Rural Blog. I was up against:

* Another Chance Ranch
* Blog Oklahoma US
* Brit Gal in the USA
* Muskogee Politico
* OklaCookiemaker Quilts
* Straight Shooter (a personal favorite of mine since last year)
* The Prairie Maid
* Turtle Rock Farm Blog
and THE PIONEER WOMAN

Not that they all weren't worthy opponents, but seriously? The Pioneer Woman? I was so thrilled when I saw the nomination list and it took looking over about three times before I realized she was on there. That was when I donned my sackcloth and ashes and moped about the house for a few hours. Then I decided that hey, yeah, she's all teh awesome and uber wonderful and cataclysmically talented and skinny and positively gorgeous, but hey, so am I! Okay, well, I can fudge on everything but the skinny.

Anyway, all y'all Okie bloggers votes a few weeks ago and voted me

And I couldn't be happier about that.

Thank you all for voting and reading and commenting, although y'all really should comment more. Seriously. Don't be shy. I'm even trying to be better about commenting back! I love me some comments. So do it, okay? Please?

I am closing in on six years blogging and it's been a crazy ride. Y'all have shared the ups, the downs, the scary, the funny, the stupid, the whiny and the possums.

I can't think of a better group to share it all with and I love each and every one of you. Really. Even though my mom is still scared to death that one of you is going to hack me up and bury me in your backyard in a 55 gallon drum.

Note: The final nominations list is here and the list of winners is here for all categories in the competition this year. Go check them all out and discover a whole new group of folks to entertain  you while you're avoiding housework or desk work or homework or lab work or foot work.....

Thirty Seven

Thursday was my birthday and well, I get pretty excited about having a day that's pretty  much all about me. I don't like the whole getting older thing that goes along with it, but I do like me some attention and presents.

I was flying pretty high what with the whole being on the front page of the newspaper on Tuesday (for winning 1st place at the Park of Lights) (WOOT!, btw)  and then having my SECOND column for WelchOK.com published and then knowing my baby sister was going to be in town this weekend and I would actually get to SEE her (something I haven't done since November) and of course,anticipated birthday presents and all that -- when I had the rug of happiness jerked out from under me on Wednesday evening. I am fine, but let me just say that the phrase "Sticks and stones may break my bones, but words will never hurt me" is a LIE because words hurt plenty. I'm not going into it because I'm not ready, but I might be someday. And I might not. But I can tell you this: I have a wonderful mother.

After my crying subsided and Mom made me feel better (as mommas are wont to do) she said, "That settles it. Tomorrow I'm picking you up in the morning and we're spending the whole day together." Of course, because her awesomeness is overwhelming at times I busted into tears again. She had already planned on taking me to lunch on my birthday, but now the prospect of a whole day out of the house with my mom? SUH-WEET. She needed to visit her flea market booth and do some rearranging and invited Conner and I to tag along. It sounded spectacular.

Thursday was a rainy day, but then again most of my birthdays have been. Well, except for the ones where we were snowed in. Thanks to global warming now I just have sloshy birthdays. She walked in the front door with a bottle of laundry detergent and a 12-roll pack of toilet paper and really, had those been my only presents I'd have been stoked beyond belief, but no, she had MORE. A bottle of perfume and two bottles of lotion ALONG WITH Young Doctor Frankenstein, a movie I still laugh at until I wheeze and it never ceases to be funny. The rain could in no way damper what had started off as a spectacular morning.

We loaded her flea market junk items into my van, plunked Conner into his carseat and off we headed to the big town of Miami. First stop? Her office to sign a paper. I know, try to contain the excitement, Diva, we're not sure we can handle it. Second stop? The water board to pay my water bill. Then DHS to turn in some paperwork. I KNOW! We were on FIRE! It was then 10:30 and we didn't have time to go the flea market and back before lunch, but it was a smidge to early to actually go eat lunch. Driving down Main we pondered all the possibilities of a time-killer in Miami, America, and decided there are none unless you want to go to Walmart. Neither of us wanted to do that, so we settled on Dollar Tree.

I love me some Dollar Tree. We let Conner play with the balloons they fill with helium and let the strings dangle into your face right there on Aisle One. The lady working there wasn't happy, but hey, they're the ones that let those things dangle like that. We both busted into spontaneous song on Aisle Three with a loud, scary version on Neil Diamond's "Heart Light" and I still don't remember why, but needless to say it was HILARIOUS. We scored three GIGANTO ink pens for the kids to take to Disney World this December (the characters need the big pens to sign autographs because well....they're big) and Mom bought me FIVE packages of fruit-flavored Mentos. I love me some Mentos, too. Nom nom.

After wasting 45 minutes in Dollar Tree, the Taj Mahal of Cheapness, we traveled to Stonehill Grill for lunch and then it was off to the flea market. Conner took about a 15 minute nap on the way and I had hoped he'd continue snoozing for awhile, but one yip from the little dog roaming the aisles and he awoke with a "oof", ready to play. We helped Mom with her booths - and by helped I mean we basically stood in the way and provided comic relief. I mean, how cute and hilarious is it to see a 19 month old adorable little boy using a 14" embroidery hoop as a steering wheel to drive up and down the aisles? Little old ladies and men were coming back there just to see him.

We came back to the house about an hour before the bus was supposed to get here and dove into the scrumptious cake Mom made me - a Better Than Almost Anything cake. Oh good golly, cake that wonderful should probably illegal everywhere except Las Vegas. After cake Mom was introduced to the wonderfulness that is a Snuggie. She loved it so much she promptly fell asleep in my big chair while Conner watched Dora and I put some pictures on a memory stick for her new digital picture frame. The kids got home from school and got some Grammy loves before she had to rush off to Bunko, then I threw some PB&J at the kids before ball practice ..... and that was my 37th birthday.

I saw Sis last night at the boys' second basketball game (the first one coincided with Kady's second game of the day so Paul and I divided and conquered) and at the game she presented me with Season 1 of Glee on DVD and an AFLAC duck that quacks AFLAAAAAAAC and makes me laugh like a giddy four year old. The DVD itself was enough to put her in Best Sister Category for like, ever, but the duck threw her over and then some.

Now to round out what was about a 98% AWESOME week Kady has acquired a phenomenal stomach virus which landed she and I on the couch last night, her yarking every 45 minutes and me holding her hair back, breathing through my mouth and trying not to join in. (I hereby apologize to all the members of the 2nd and 3rd grade A team for any spontaneous yarking your own daughters may now do.) This week's plans include preparing for Icepocalypse which is supposed to hit on Thursday. BE YE WARNED. I'm going to Walmart on Tuesday to stock up on toilet paper and sugar and tortilla chips and soup, so if you wanna meet up give me a holla. If you plan on being hysterical and jerking the Quilted Northern from my hands you can stay at home or risk being punched in the back of the head a sharp verbal reprimand from yours truly. Either way it should be fun!

I'm Just Poppin' Up Everywhere

I heard the other day that Facebook and Twitter are killing blogging. Kind of like video killed the radio star. And how I haven't shaved my legs in weeks kills any kind of bedroom mood that may or may not try to occur during the winter months. And how that adorable 18 month old who has been feeding you Goldfish crackers kills your appetite when he attempts to feed you one covered in his slobber. Like how....oh, you get it?

Anyway, I am on Facebook and Twitter constantly and my little micro blurbs and quips do take away my regular blog posting and that makes me sad. I do love my blog and I love that some of you still keep showing up and I swear, I don't mean to be mean to the blog that has been so good to me over the past five and a half years. Swear. But see, I got this iPod for Christmas and I uhm....can't stop using it and stuff. And I have been known to wake up at 3 a.m. and check Facebook to see who has insomnia. BECAUSE I CAN.

That all being said, I am now somewhere else on the Web as well - I have a column at a local news site, WelchOK.com. I have been given this wonderfully amazing opportunity by fellow blogger and good friend, Tyson Wynn. My column is called "The Diva Dish" and well, when I asked Tyson what kind of writing style, what subject matter he wanted, he said, "Whatever you're good at, capitalize on that." So pretty much the column will be about battling gray hairs, living with a moody teenager, juggling the schedules of three kids, spending the majority of every day playing with Conner and how to keep a fabulously messy house. I am good at all those things. Especially the messy house one.

The WelchOK site is a great new site and while yes, it is catered to the citizens of Welch, those of you who are local can benefit as well. Check it out, bookmark it and make sure to check back weekly to see what I'm dishing out. Leave comments on the pieces you read (not just mine) and let Tyson know you've been there. He'll appreciate it. Promise. Because that's how he rolls.

And now, because I am going to forego Twitter and Facebook for once I leave you with a thought that I was originally going to post to both:

My feet are cold.

What happens when you give rednecks explosives

This is really the first year that all five of Tater's and my kids are old enough to do fireworks pretty much on their own, so we grownups just sat back the other night and swatted mosquitos and watched the barn swallows and bats swoosh around over their heads, maybe secretly hoping someone would get divebombed, but that's only a maybe and you can't prove I was thinking that. Tater and her kids weren't going to be here on the 4th, so the evening of the 3rd they came out to blow things up here on our lush 40 acre estate. Sam had bought some army men at Dollar Tree for the express purpose of blowing them up and the boys immediately set up the "war" as soon as the tots arrived.

We intentionally got the firecrackers with slow fuses because Kady is still pretty skittish when it comes to firecrackers and the guy at the stand said they could also be exploded underwater. *Insert evil laugh here* It didn't take long to completely obliterate the cats' water bucket.

After watching them shoot bottle rockets and jumping jacks and smoke bombs and tanks and chickens and various other small-scale explosives, Tater wistfully said, "Man, wouldn't it be cool if we could blow up something else? Like something really messy? Like a stick of butter!" Now, I wasn't too keen on sacrificing a stick of butter for the sake of a little redneck entertaiment, but the butter was quickly forsaken when Paul said, "Abby, go inside and get one of those little cups of Jello."

As you can tell from the awful cackling coming from Tater and myself, we were highly amused.

And then, because the Jello was so hilarious, we decided to blow up some pudding.

It was actually a bit of a letdown.

Hope y'all had a happy 4th!

It's that time again!

Okay, so because I have managed to drag my 5 year blogaversary out for the entire month of June, I figure it's about time to host the giveaways. I'm going to get the ball rolling tonight, by cracky!

I have three different prizes. Three! But....before you get all excited and you start shouting from the mountain tops, please understand that I do not earn any money whatsoever in the summer so you are getting a poor woman's prize package, okay? I'm not a fancy mommyblogger who gets oodles of swag to give away to her readers. Okay, so I got two copies of Guitar Hero for Nintendo DS recently....but we are SO playing them so I can uh....review them.....yeah. And if I gave away the Guitar Heros I'd have to send a child with them. Wait....I could be onto something....

I kid. I kid. Maybe. (Email me. We'll talk.)

Okay, the first prize is a $10 My Sonic Card and well...that's it. But really? Who doesn't like Sonic? Free Sonic at that? I could live there! Heck, I tried to once but that little guy that hoses down the concrete in the morning sprayed me and told me to leave. This prize could also include something else, but don't like, bank on it. I've just been the mood to clean out closets lately and you may get a few rolls of that toilet paper we tried and didn't like or maybe a half-used tube of lip gloss. KIDDING. About the lip gloss.

I am also giving away two sets of bows from Just 'Dorable bows! (It helps to have an in with the Bow Lady.)

Set one includes your all-purpose white bow (with French clip, great for ponytails and fountains), plus an adorable green polka-dotted clip (great to slide in on the side to hold back those bangs she's determined to grow out or to slide in over a ponytail or fountain as well), plus a foo-foo cute pink and black polka-dotted bow WITH ladybug accessory!

See what I mean by accessory? You can wear the ladybug by herself, the bow by itself or stack them on top for ultra, extra foo-foo cuteness!

Set two in two slide-in clips that really are just perfect for holding back bangs or just to accentuate the side of your little darling's 'do, plus a super-cute bumble bee bow AND this giganto purple flower with rhinestone! Now, when I first saw the flowers I was a little skeptical, but Kady has a giant sunflower and a HUGE red flower that are oh so adorable riding atop her ponytail this summer. Kind of reminds me of the munchkins in The Wizard of Oz right after Dorothy lands...

So here's hoping y'all aren't now sitting there going "Well, I was going to enter, but I think I'll pass because uhm.....they suck," and here's hoping that you're going to enter and tell your friends and shout it from the mountain tops and post it on your Facebook and tweet it like your Twitter depends on it.

Da Rules:

1. You must leave a comment here to be entered.

2. You must leave a valid email address, either in your profile or, if you're all paranoid and stuff, spell it out like [everyone] does (it) in the comment. Or email me if you're REALLY paranoid and stuff.

3. In your comment you must tell me the best thing you've done this summer. Whether it's that you shaved your legs or climbed Mt. Everest, spill it! Let the innernets know! Or at least the part of the innernets that reads my blog... You must do this or I will toss your comment out with all that Sonic trash in my van.

4. Specify which prize(s) you would like to entered to win. You can enter one, two or three. If you only have hairy-legged boys in your house you might not need hairbows. And you might not live anywhere near a Sonic. You can enter all three from one comment - no need to multi-comment.

5. If you want an extra entry or two, link to this post via Twitter and @ me with it (@theredneckdiva) and/or post the link to your Facebook wall and let me know about it in the comments here. (Better yet, just add me as a friend on FB! Searching Redneck Diva should find me.) One per site. You have to let me know, too, because I lost my mad innernets psychic skillz long ago. Retweeting or re-posting does not increase your chances, but I will take shameless promotion if you want to give it.

6. This fabulous event of prize-giving will end on Friday, July 3rd at noon and I will draw the winners at that time. Winners will be posted here and I'll also throw an email your way, too. If you do not reply with a mailing address by Monday, July 6th I'll re-draw and you forfeit your amazing prize.

Good luck and thanks for hanging around here the last 5 years!

C is for Cookie

Those of you who have read the blog for awhile know that I used to be a Girl Scout leader back in the day. When Abby was a 2nd grader and on up to 5th grade we met every Tuesday and talked badges and manners and crafts and community service and most importantly, once a year we sold .....

COOKIES!

I was a Girl Scout from 1st grade up until I was a Sophomore so I did my share of cookie-selling as a kid and then managed and organized and watched helplessly as my house turned into a Keebler tree gone wrong as an adult. But man, it was worth it. The girls learned networking skills and I was bound and determined that my daughter would learn to count back change just like my momma taught me when I was a mere 4th grader.

While we're no longer involved in Girl Scouts, I do wholeheartedly believe in the organization and what it does to empower and strengthen the women of the future - our daughters.

That being said, The Oklahoma College Savings Plan website is running a campaign allowing Oklahomans everywhere to vote for their favorite Girl Scout cookie flavor.(Don't tell the Samoas, but I voted for the Tagalongs. I couldn't help it. The power of peanut butter is strong with that one.)

When you get to the ballot page you can read "speeches" by each cookie, extolling their very own virtues and why they deserve to be Oklahoma's Favorite Cookie.

In a recent press release Oklahoma State Treasurer, Scott Meacham, says,

"Oklahomans have until March 31, 2009 to cast their vote on the Oklahoma
CollegeSavings Plan website. The winning cookie will be announced on early April
in a ceremony at the State Capital and the Girl Scout who sells the most cookies
in Oklahoma will win $1,000 towards an Oklahoma College Savings Plan. The sales
contest ends on March 31, 2009."

So not only will a cookie forever claim bragging rights to being da bomb, but a Girl Scout gets money for college! Everyone's a winner.Check out the Oklahoma College Savings Plan website and cast your vote for Tagalongs your favorite cookie today!

Toot-toot-tootsies

'Tis the season for slippers!

The Christmas after Abby was born, a friend gave me these lovely authentic bunny slippers. I heart these slippers and have for nigh upon 12 years now. They went with me to the hospital when I had Sam and again when I had Kady. However, Mom wouldn't allow me to wear them when I had Kady because, as she said, "they're just embarrassing." Not because they're bunnies but because they were so worn the heck out. And that was nearly 7 years ago! The worn-out-edness of them is even more pronounced today. But I still heart them.










(Yes, my toenails are painted black.)





However, being all grownup what with the fact that I watched a Vice-presidential debate for the first time last night, I also know that the bunnies....they will not last forever. There will come a time when they have to hop off to the big bunny slipper field in the sky to be chased by little stuffed dogs that have since moved on.


So a few weeks ago I bought these:



Because if I am watching political debates and discussing the correct pronunciation of the word "nuclear" with my husband very heatedly, the least I can do is wear these. You know...to keep things in the proper perspective.







(NOTE: I got the sock monkey slippers at Target.)

And this is where she breathes a contented sigh of contentedness (Oh yeah, it's also the 1000th post)

Okay, so yeah, I said that the 1000th post would include a podcast, but ya know...I'm a big fat liar. Y'all should know that by now. Quit expecting so much from me!

So Lori and I took off for Shawnee yesterday afternoon, she from Texas and me from NE Oklahoma. I drove Pops' Prius hybrid and oh my GOSH it's like driving a TOY! It's a wonder I didn't have a wreck because I was so enamored by the computer screen which showed my wheels a-spinnin' and whether I was using the cute little electric battery or the engine. I used a whole 5 gallons of gas down here. I am going to seriously look into buying one of those suckers.

It was roughly 500 degrees when we got here, so we chilled out in the room for awhile (La Quinta. Spanish for "It's hotter'n heck outside.") and around 7 headed out for dinner at Chili's. I was a Chili's virgin until last night. After food and conversation we went directly to check out the local Dollar Tree which was two minutes shy of closing. We made sure we remembered where it was and then headed to the Sac and Fox casino. I swear to you, I thought Lori was gonna need smelling salts before we got all the way in. I guess those Texas indians don't know how to casino like we Oklahoma indians do. We played a little, but we were both road weary and headed back to the room. (La Quinta. Spanish for "OMG there are no husbands or kids here!")

We watched Sleepless in Seattle and talked and laughed and shared pictures of the kids. There was no conquering of the world because we both literally just decompressed and took advantage of not having to take care of anyone, break up any fights, or do anything remotely motherly. Before we knew it, it was 3am and while there was still conversation in us both, our eyes would no longer focus and we crashed.

That 8am alarm went off so we could wake up our husbands and then? Then we laid around the motel room until 4 this afternoon. I KNOW! We watched True Lies and Without a Paddle and again, did the chatting and laughing and the sharing of kid pictures and family stories and wow....that was just nice.

When we finally emerged from the Bat Cave this afternoon (La Quinta. Spanish for "Bat Cave.")we headed STRAIGHT for the Dollar Tree. Omg, the Dollar Tree here has a COOLER. Like, to hold cool things! We have so got to get one of those in Miami! After that we drove around.......and around........and around......looking for some place to eat. We kind of wanted Mexican, but the places looked kind of dive-y and and we weren't sure we wanted to go out on a limb that far away from home. We settled on Cracker Barrel then found our way to the Fire Lake Grand casino where I proceded to lose my hiney and she didn't. But I still love her.

We stopped at Sonic on the way back to the motel (La Quinta. Spanish for "Wow. 3am was a bad choice of a bedtime.") for ice cream and sweet tea and now we are watching Van Wilder somethingsomethingblahblahblah. We're both really missing our husbands and kids and decided that if we weren't so dang tired we'd leave for home tonight. Sissies, we are. However, we've decided that it won't be too long before we drag our husbands to Norman (closer to halfway AND yes, there's another big casino, we think) for a couple's weekend. Yay!

So while I disappointed y'all with the lack of podcast, please know that my mental state of mind is much more centered and calm. Sometimes it just takes a short vacation to get you back on track.

But here's what I'd like from you. Please, please, PLEASE come out of the woodwork and comment to this, my 1000th post. Tell me your favorite thing about my blog (yeah, I am gratuitously asking you to stroke my ego), how long you've been reading me, how you found me, heck, tell me anything. Anything!

And really.....thank you so much for making these last four years, these last 1000 posts incredibly awesome. I appreciate every time you visit and you make me insanely happy when you comment or when you spot me in Walmart* (Yes, Sixty, I am aware of the new logo and no, I'm not happy about it. Why do things have to change??? WHY?) and I immensely enjoy it when you freak my mother out by saying how much you love my blog.

I love you all. Seriously.

Photos!

I offered you pictures of my new! not-so-improved! Beagle/Cocker Spaniel for my 1000th post, but instead you are getting them for my 998th post. Because I also have other pictures and heck, I haven't done a photoblog in a lonnnnnng time. And I have nothing else to offer you. Why do I have nothing to offer? Because I had a bad headache yesterday and did nothing more than sit on my couch and hurt. When you do nothing more than SIT you have very little to report.


Ab took these pics of Biscuit about a month ago.

Is he not adorable? No, he's not. Trust me. Oh, he's adorable if you think chewing is adorable. So yeah, if you think chewing is cute then you will LOVE my dog.










Okay, so even I have to admit that this one is just precious. He looks so innocent....

Looks are SO deceiving.








This is Biscuit today. He's long and chewy. I don't mean chewy like caramel or nougat. I mean like HE CHEWS ON EVERYTHING.

I don't know if I have communicated effectively the amount of chewing this dog does.

Those toes? Those are mine. He thinks they are food. Or toys. And capris are an open invitation to EAT MY PANTS. I had to quit going outside in pajama pants because he kept stretching out the legs when he would grab a mouthful of cotton and RUN far and fast with my drawers in his mouth. Agh. The vet says he will chew for a year. I will be toeless by then. And pantsless.


Yep. He's chewing. On Kady this time.

And I failed to mention that what he doesn't eat while he's chewing HE BURIES. Somewhere on the property he has buried his white chew bear (heck, why chew on something that's meant to be chewed on?), Abby's babysitting ward's flipflop (just one, mind you), his water bowl, and one of Paul's leather sandals (okay, that was actually a blessing) among other things we just don't know about. Come to think of it, I haven't seen Paul's brush hog in awhile.....


I think my kids need to go back to school. IQ levels have dropped dramatically this summer.

She even had some on her feet.

She came down the hall going "I AM A ROBOT. I DRINK CAPRI SUN."

She's my sunshine.
(I didn't realize until I published this that her robot has boobs. Oy. She says her brother did that. He's my sunshine, too. A little sunshiney pervert.)

This is my van. Notice anything spectacularly wonderful about it? Well, besides the fine coating of dust because it hasn't rained here in like, 12 years.

You notice nothing? Here.....let's get closer....

Notice anything now?

MY VANITY PLATE FINALLY ARRIVED!

I sent off for it around the first of May and while the order form said to allow 16 weeks I didn't really think it'd take that long. I mean, those prisoners can't have that busy of a social life, can they?

Every day when we would check the mail we would all cross our fingers and chant "License plate - license plate - license plate!" Yesterday when Paul came in from work with the big yellow envelope in his hand the kids all three screamed because they knew what it was before I ever clued in. There was much jubilation. I'd have jubilated more had my head not felt like it was going to blow clean off. But still, I was happy.

If you see me driving around town, honk. Seriously. Heck, write me a note in the dust if you feel friendly enough.

I put the new plate on the van this morning and as I was putting the old, boring, official license plate in my glove compartment I got stung. It wasn't a full-size wasp, but a mini, micro wasp who had Little Wasp Syndrome or something and felt it necessary to hurt me very much badly. I am working very diligently to clean up my mouth and am so proud that in a moment of total surprise and pain instead of dropping an f-bomb or some other such profanity I hollered, "FARTKNOCKER!"

A post on the 7th about the 4th on the 5th

The 4th was pretty anticlimactic around here this year. We did some last-minute cleaning on the house then headed to Wal*Mart where apparently they had crack on a red light special and my children bought some when I wasn't looking because they were holy. freakin'. terrors. My kids NEVER act like that in Wal*Mart, but oh my gosh, they were awful that day. I think it was just the building excitement of the next few days, but good grief I was ready to sell them to the gypsies. And I told them as much. Of course, they didn't care - they were high.

After Wal*Mart we picked up the little girls that Abby was babysitting that night. All in all, Ab did a great job, but I think I'll limit her babysitting jobs to a few hours at a time from now on. By the next morning she was beat and her nerves were frazzled and by lunchtime she threw her hands in the air and yelled, "I AM ONLY ONE PERSON! STOP ASKING ME TO DO THINGS! I AM VERY. STRESSED. OUT." I hugged her and said, "Welcome to my world, dear."

The little girls left around 1 and I started making the pies that I'd promised Paul (Red, White and Blueberry - YUM!) and by 3:00 everything was done enough that I set the alarm on my phone, kicked my feet up and watched the kids play Wii for awhile. Paul started cooking around 5, everyone showed up a little after 6 and for the first grand gathering of the new improved blended family, we had a blast.





This one of Tater, Ain't Pam and Uncle David cracks me up.

While Ain't Pam looks on in interest at whatever Uncle David is talking about - which is obviously not all that pleasant from the look on his face - Tater is looking to the camera for help, rescue, ANYthing.

G'head, blow it up. It's a hilarious picture.






This is Ab and her brand! new! cousin! Makenna. They got to know each other quite well at church camp a few weeks back and were practically joined at the hip then. Saturday, they were inseperable again. They're ornery, too. It appears they sneakily got hold of everyone's cell phones and put event reminders in, changed wallpapers to pictures of them, and did many, many voice records. Ah....to be a tween....





Kady is in the foreground while her big cousin, Quentin, is scolding her from afar. What that boy would have to scold her about I have no idea, since the whole time Paul, Gary and I were putting up the volleyball net, he was throwing cherry bombs at us and shooting bottle rockets our direction. Yeah, he's an angel, that kid.

Or maybe he was pointing at me.....because I think it's apparent the kid has it in for me.










This is TotTwo. He worked so hard to climb up there that he insisted I take his picture. The only way I can post it without Tater comin' at me like a spider monkey is because you can't see his face. She's all about internet safety - she's been watching a lot of PSAs or something.
















And this is TotOne. She had a glow stick in her mouth. Since I had just taken a picture of her brother dangling from the basketball goal like a pinata, she was adamant I take a picture of her. She was disappointed when I used the flash and it didn't show the glow stick. She was not disappointed, however, when I turned off the flash, got the glow stick and not her. Go figure.













Mom wanted me to take a picture of Pops and two of my stepsisters.

See what kind of a family I have now?

They're freakin' AWESOME.









Oh wait, everyone's smiling pretty now. Probably because Mom put her hands on her hips and tapped her foot.











Mom's gonna crap kittens if she sees I've posted this. I think it's adorable, but she will shriek for days that she can't believe I posted that picture of her all sweaty from playing volleyball.

Oh well. It's my blog.

Love you Mom.

Giving It Away (Current posts below)

Okay, with the Blogaversary Marathon of Celebrating looming on the horizon, I have been working my hiney off on securing a couple of (what I think are) fairly kickin' giveaways. Hey, considering it's my first time giving away stuff on my blog and I'm doing it all out of my own pocket because I don't have big corporate sponsers and my mom's getting married this week AND I quit my job (in my heart already, if not physically just yet) you gotta cut me some slack.

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The first giveaway is a conglomeration of hair bows from Just 'Dorable Bows. Debbie is otherwise known to my daughters as "The Bow Lady." In fact, she's in the contacts on my cell phone as "The Bow Lady." I heart her. You will, too. Here are some pics of our personal bow collection. This isn't all of them we own - I had to put the holiday/Christmas/strictly winter bows up separately to make room for the spring collection. I know. I have issues. But my 6 year old is cuter'n all get out.

This is what is currently out for the season in our personal bow stash.

Debbie also made the bow hanger. It's really just 'dorable, isn't it? It's the ONLY way to hang hair bows. A drawer cannot sufficiently contain that much ribbon.

I apologize for the lack of clarity on this pic. I didn't have the macro button pushed on the camera and I don't feel like going back there to re-take the pic.

This is Ab's favorite bow ever. Debbie searched high and low until she found exactly what Ab asked for - "pink with skulls, but the skulls have to have heart eyes." By cracky, she found it!

This is my favorite set of piggy bows for Kady. She wears them on top of her head in two small ponytails and oh my gosh, you could just pinch her in two when she wears them. She has to have an outfit to match them summer and winter.

And what redneck hair bow collection would be comlete without CAMOUFLAGE?

And of course, what diva hair bow collection would be complete without leopard print?

Actual bows in giveaway package will vary. This is just to make you absolutely crave some of those Just 'Dorable bows. Her website is not up and running yet, but I can hook you up with an email address if you ask real nice. I'm thinking I should help her with her website since the other day she said that someday she'd have to check out my blob.

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The second giveaway is a FREE BLOG HEADER. Yes, I said FREE BLOG HEADER. My design gal, Lil, of Design Works is going to create a custom header for your blog if you're the lucky winner. She's responsible for my header design, so if you like what she did with a pink travel trailer and a clothesline full of underwear then you really should enter this drawing.

Header includes small design that you plug in yourself. It does not include color or template overhaul.

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Here are the rules:

Leave a comment to this post (which will remain the top post until Saturday morning). Please oh please oh mercy PLEASE don't do the "no reply blogger" thing. Please please please do that thingy that leaves an email address when you comment! PLEASE! (Am I being polite enough?) If you simply do not want to leave your email address in the comments, drop me an email privately [theredneckdiva (at symbol) gmail (dot symbol) com] and leave it. I kind of need your email address if I'm going to give you stuff.

In your comment you need to tell me which drawing (or both!) you'd like to be entered in and the most money you've ever paid for a gallon of gas.

If you do not specify which drawing (or both!) and/or do not tell me how much you've been robbed you've paid for gas I will not enter you in the drawing(s). Period.

The drawing will be done through a random number generator and I will have no control whatsoever with who wins. You just gotta believe me on that one.

Drawings will be closed sometime between 8 and 9am Saturday, June 7th, 2008, the day the magic happened back in 2004 when I posted my first blog post over at tripod.com. After I close the comments I will then proceed to get my momma hitched and will be incommunicado and insane the rest of the day.

Winners will be announced Sunday evening.

FOR AN EXTRA ENTRY IN THE DRAWINGS you can post on your own blog about my giveaways and the Blogaversary Marathon of Celebrating, link to this post and make a redneck girl very happy. If you choose to post for an extra entry, you MUST let me know. I'm talented, but I can't read minds worth a crap.

Okay, I think I've covered it all. Tell your friends, tell your neighbors, spay and neuter your pets, don't run with scissors, drink 8 glasses of water a day, don't talk with your mouth full and don't jump off a bridge even if all your friends do.

My eyes! My eyes!

My four-days-away-from-being-my step-dad is a geek. And I mean that in the nicest way possible. The dude is a techno geek deluxe. I heart him. He and I can sit and talk computers for hours. One Sunday after lunch at Mom's he and I broke out the laptops and spent nearly three hours downloading, talking, laughing and at one point Mom walked through, shook her head and said, "You two were made for each other." Yes. Yes, I believe we were.

That being said, it probably comes as no surprise that one of his computers has a screen bigger than most TVs. His computer room has four computers in it. (My kids love going to Pops' house because they each get a computer to themselves.) Oh, and he has a gigantic TV. Okay, well, he did. Now we have it. Awwwww yeah. Mom's den is not large enough to hold a TV of that size, so they're going to buy a plasma to hang on the wall. Poor things. Bless their little senior-citizen-discount-gettin' hearts. But yay for us because he made us a heck of a deal and now we are livin' large. Really.


This is the TV we bought just last year. We felt completely indulgent in getting a 42" flat screen at the time. Paul couldn't believe how much better his PS2 games looked on it and I seem to remember a conversation where I declared I could see the TV through the wall from the kitchen after he'd gone on and on about how the flat screen enabled him to see from any angle.

(Please ignore the dust covering the stand. We live on a dirt road. Yeah. That's why it looks like I haven't dusted in months. Yeah.)




But as of about 6pm last night we became the proud parents of this bad boy. 53" of television-y goodness. I swear I felt even my testosterone level raise as they wheeled it into my living room. Paul grunted like Tim the Tool Man all night.

Pops managed to hook all of our many gaming systems up to it, even the 16 year old Super Nintendo that still uses a modulator. (Because it is insanely old in the world of gaming systems.) (But man, you just can't beat the old skool Super Mario Brothers.)

The kids, of course, immediately flipped the channel to Nick and I was completely blown away at the size of the Squidward looming on the screen. Seriously. Like, nightmare big. It's going to take awhile for me to adjust. The kids and Paul are fully adjusted, adapted and ... well, I slept in the bed alone last night since Paul stayed up until who knows how late because he played Call of Duty and Socom till the wee hours of the morning until he just fell over on the couch due to gigantic television gaming overload. Bless his heart.

I fear that going to the movies will be anticlimactic now.

Random Thoughts, The Sunday Edition

Right now it sounds like a small village is being plundered right outside my back door. Why? I took all five kids to the Dollar Tree after church and bought water bombs. I just sprayed them all down with sunscreen and sent them out, locking the door behind them.

I am the coolest mom/aunt ever. I also have just guaranteed myself an hour of blogging time.

I also truly believe that the person who thought up the concept of Dollar Tree stores is a flippin' genius. Seriously.

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Follow the path of the coney, man.

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Friday was Track & Field day at the kids' school. I never make them go on that day because they hate it. (If the principal is reading this she's going to now know for 100% sure that my kids haven't all been sick on T&F day for the last six years. Busted.) I hate stuff like that, they do, too, so why make them suffer? It's the one day that I let them skip, sue me. My mother-in-law came over to inspect the new storm cellar while I was tanning. Now, when I tan on days that I don't work, I don't get fancied up. That morning I had pulled my hair into a sloppy ponytail on top of my head, threw on some capri sweats and didn't bother with any makeup. When I got back from tanning Paul said she wanted to go see the tornado damage in Picher and did I want to go? I said yeah and got in the van, still looking like a trailer park matriarch and smelling faintly of tanning bed and fried sweat. It was when we were about halfway down the driveway that my mother-in-law announced that she was taking us all out to lunch. At the steakhouse. I sweetly asked if she wasn't sure that maybe she felt like Sonic instead because I, uhm, kind of looked bad and smelled funky. She said, no, she definitely wanted a steak for lunch. I looked at my husband, smiled and said, "Well, the you're going to have to take me back up to the house so I can put on some makeup and fix my hair."

This did not go over well with the mother-in-law. But Paul knows me well enough that had he not taken me back I would've made him miserable the rest of the day. Because I may be redneck, but I am also very, very diva.

I ran into the house, dropping my pants as I ran down the hall and tossing my shirt onto the bathroom counter. I quickly smeared some deodorant under each arm, sprayed about half a gallon of body splash from head to toe, threw my makeup into a bag so I could put it on in the car and pulled out the sloppy ponytail on top of my head. I rearranged my curls into a big poufy thing in a clip, spritzed them with some curl stuff (that stuff is sheer, pure, unadulterated magic, people) and ran, shirtless and pantsless, back down the hall to my room. I grabbed a pair of denim capris from off a hanger, slipped on my black sequined flipflops as I pulled a shirt over my head. I was back in the van in 4 minutes. Paul just looked at me, shook his head and grinned. I think he secretly likes it that I'm vain. That's what I tell myself, anyway.

At the steakhouse I dripped salad dressing right down the front of my shirt. My mother-in-law had an evil grin on her face and Paul nearly choked trying not to outright laugh at me. Salad dressing stain or not, though, I had awesome hair.

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Abby spent the night with a friend Friday night. Kady and Sam went to Ain't Pam's house to spend the night.

Paul got lucky.

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Yesterday after I picked up all the kids from their various outposts, we stopped by to visit Mom at an auction she was working. It was surplus medical supplies and equipment. When I walked in Mom informed me that had I been there 15 minutes earlier I could've bid on an exam table. With stirrups. I texted that to Paul and he promptly texted back, "See if you can make a deal with the person who bought 'em."

Eeeeeewwwww.

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Thursday night I went to a bridal shower for my mom.

When I was 15, if you had told me I would sometime in the future type that last sentence I'd have laughed at you.

It was wonderfully wonderful, though. Among the one nightgown, various picture frames, cookbooks (Paula Deen! SO borrowing that one!) and framed pictures, she got two toasters, which cracked me up! They are in their 50's and 60's and now are the proud owners of two new toasters. Mom was tickled pink - she said she'd been needing one for awhile, but figured she'd put her money on something more important.

Also, when you get a bunch of 50-something year old women in a room with a 50-something year old bride, the conversation apparently turns to sex rather quickly. I don't know how many times I had to tell Abby and Kady, "Cover your ears, girls!" which of course, made the women just cackle. Fortunately, the conversation didn't prompt any questions from my daughters afterward.....whew!

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Water fight now turning to all-out arguing, whining and bossing-around. I am one minute shy of the hour I thought I'd get.

I'm good.

I would appear my pants are on fire....

Because apparently I am a big fat liar!



I am SO sorry about the whole saying I'm gonna do a webcast then not doing a webcast thing. If it helps at all and makes you want to keep reading my blog can I blame it on the weather? And my little sister? Because she's the reason God made Oklahoma's weather stupid, I'm sure of it. In fact, I think someone wrote a song about that.....

It's rained harder than a cow peein' on a flat rock more than once this week. No joke. And lots of lightning, too. My paranoia won't allow me to leave any electronics plugged in if someone in the house even utters the word "lightning".

The next date is set for this Thursday. Seeing as how it is our first one, I am not EVEN going to attempt it live. However, keeping our fingers crossed while eating a four-leaf clover salad and sitting on a rabbit's foot while tickling a leprechaun should get the cast posted that night. I promise nothing because if I've learned anything as a parent, if you promise something is going to happen on a certain date at a certain time, it's pretty much a sure fire bet that it ain't gonna happen at that date and time. I should've remembered that when I got your hopes up TWICE.


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Friday Ab had a friend spend the night. I really like this little friend and anytime she wants to come over I am all for it. However, it wasn't until Sunday night that Abby showed me the progress report that would've totally kept her friend from spending the night. Oh yeah, it was that bad. What makes me so dang mad is that it's because she's not turning in her work. She claims the D in Math is because "fractions are stupid" and you know, I totally agree with her because fractions ARE stupid, but not once did she come to me for help. (That may be because she knows I am a mathtard, but we'll not go there.) Anyway, she's in the in-school tutoring thing for that D, plus she's on serious restriction right now (Our word for "grounded" - because I strive to be different and frankly, to me, it's a more relevant term. Kids are not airplanes, after all.) which means no computer, no movies, no sleepovers and what hurt her most was that I am not giving her the $10 I gave the other two for the book fair at school. I hate to withold something as important as books, seeing as how she has a C in Reading already, but I'm trying to make a point. She cried when I put her on restriction and turned her back to me. That kind of stung, but I completely remember being soooooo mad at my mother when I felt she was the most unfair human on the planet, so I instead said, "Okay, I understand that you are mad at me. That's fine. I'd probably be mad at me, too. But, Ab, I'm right and you are just going to have to be mad." It took her about two hours to come out of her room, but when she did she came straight to me, put her hand in mine and laid her head on my shoulder. She was also verrrrrrry helpful with chores last night. Hmh. Coincidence? I think not.


When I asked her teacher for advice on what to do at home, aside from beating her, she emailed me back with, "Welcome to parenting a pre-teen. They wake up in a different world every day." Ah, wise sage.


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Sunday morning Sam went forward during the invitation at church and accepted Christ as his Savior. As a parent, I don't think there is any happier moment as when you know beyond the shadow of a doubt that you will see your child in Heaven.


This has been about a month in the works and people, it has been amazing seeing this all take place. When Abby was saved it was quiet, understated and she did it at Vacation Bible School when I wasn't around. Sam actually came to me about a month ago, telling me that he felt like God was talking to his heart. I asked what God said (because if you only knew Sam, there is no telling what comes out of him sometimes) and he said, "God told me that I'm a sinner and I need to do something about that. He said I need Him." How simple, yet how true. So we went to Pops and Pops has talked to him several times (how convenient when your pastor is also your dad/grandad), but told me that the decision has to be Sam's and while he would answer questions and guide him, he wasn't going to push. I love that man.

His baptism is scheduled a week and a half from now. Our church is very small and we don't have a baptistry, so we have to borrow the "dunk tank on wheels" that the Association keeps for baptistry-less churches. One older lady in the church suggested we just hold the baptism at the lake since the church is literally right above the lake, but that water is not only cold, but it's nasty. I said that the dunk tank on wheels would suit me just fine.


Also, praise God, Paul went to church with us Sunday night and we all moved our memberships to the same church. Paul, Ab and I all had our memberships in separate places, then Sam joined the new church this week. I had asked Ab several times if she wanted to join the church and she emphatically said yes, but she wanted to wait for her daddy. Since he works on Sunday mornings we had to wait till a Sunday night, but he went, loved it and we're all together as a family. Also, Paul got suckered into was asked to help with recreation time at Awanas on Wednesday nights. He did it willingly. Life is good.

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My pants may be on fire, but I do have HAIR PICTURES, so hopefully that helps some.


And by the way, it's really hard to take pictures of your own hair. Just for the record. I couldn't get the light right or I'd take one at an angle that made me look like I needed some Rogaine for Women (Heaven help me if that's how my hair really looks) (Oh man, now I'm worried...) (Seriously.) and I took about 30 before I narrowed it down to these.

This shows the nice blonde streak that is reminiscent of Elvira, Mistress of the Dark. Fortunately, it's on the back of my head, not right in the front.

Pretty much the same picture......why did I post this one?

See what I mean about the light? In this pic my hair looks more red, but the other two it looks more brown with blonde.

Just so you know, she did two colors - Yes TWO! TWO VUNDERVUL COLORS! MUAH HAHAHAHAHAH - so if you were to see me in person you would probably see that there's dark brown in there, along with my natural color and then BAM! Emeril came along and kicked it up a notch with some blonde.

All of the various colors are more noticeable when my hair is straight, but did I mention that it's been a little rainy lately? Yeah. Not even a Chi can help when it's raining this much. Trust me.

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It's springtime in Oklahoma and that means SEVERE WEATHER!!!!! (wild applause) As you know, I am a bigtime fan of severe weather, storms and they totally weren't kidding when they said, "When the tornado sirens go off, that's not signal to run for shelter, it's the signal for all rednecks to go stand in the yard and look for the twister." Amen and amen. Monday looked hopeful and there was even talk of a tornado in the area after I got to work, but the part of the storm that spawed the funnel had already passed over us, so we missed out. I'm ready for a good run to the 'fraidy hole. Paul's nephew lost his trampoline, so I'm hopeful this is the year we lose ours. I hate that trampoline.

So, that being said, let it be known that if the weather is bad on Thursday, there will be no webcast and it will have to be postponed yet again. If you want to pout and turn your back on me, fine, but don't get too sassy or I'll have to put you on restriction and take away your Book Fair money.

Two! Two! We want two!

By 8:15 yesterday morning I had taken a shower and had gotten ready, fed six kids a healthy breakfast of donuts and milk, done four French braids, flat-ironed three heads of hair, put in one gigantic hair bow and placed one basketball net hat thing. (Looks like a basketball net but you wear it upside down like a hat. Pretty cute and incredibly dorky.) We made it to Wyandotte later than I had planned, but it really didn't matter because the other team didn't know they were playing and their coach was frantically calling the team to get them assembled. The game was supposed to start at 9 and started after 9:30, so they kept the clock running during free-throws and during time-outs which made me mad to no end. I realize there's a schedule, but I still feel like that was wrong.

Our boys have played a Wyandotte team (they have three) nearly every week and to be honest, those Wyandotte boys can play. They really are good. Our boys have potential but coach is coaching virtually every other team from our school, not to mention has a daughter on the JV team and we don't get in much practice - therefore we suck. Pretty badly. But I think our boys just got good and madwhen they realized they were going to be playing a Wyandotte team again and they played hard. In the first game they played a Wyandotte team they'd only played once before, but still, they were bound and determined to play hard and do their best. It was like watching a different team. They've literally been beaten by 30 points in a game, but yesterday they won it by one point, 13-14. It was a good game - each team did a good job keeping the other from scoring, rebounded well and just generally played good ball.

The second game, however, they played a team that has tromped them pretty badly. And repeatedly. They were mad before the game started. There is usually about a 20 minute break between games, but since the first one got a late start, they played the next game almost immediately. Our boys were exhausted; the other team was fresh, but our boys were angry. Sam elbowed a kid, the kid elbowed back. That happened several times. Sam doubled up his fists once, but thankfully didn't punch anyone. He was near tears several times, too, because, bless his heart, he's like his momma in that when he gets mad sometimes the only thing he knows to do is cry. Of all the things I could've given him, I hate it that was it. At the half, Paul called him over for a pep talk, Tater gave him one as well. All I knew to do was rub his shoulders and pray. He shed a few angry tears, nodded at the advice and slugged down his blue Gatorade that makes him look like the only cyanotic player out there.

At about 22 seconds left in the game, Sam got the ball , shot and got fowled. He has worked really hard on his free-throws lately because he has trouble getting them anywhere near the goal. As he got into place on the free-throw line he looked up at us. He looked so worried and nervous. I nodded and hollered, "You can do it, buddy. I KNOW you can!" The slumber party girls were all cheering for him, Mom was clutching my leg, Paul's fists were clenched on his knees. Sam shot. It bounced off the backboard, but didn't go in. He looked at us again. I hollered, "That's alright, just concentrate!" He shot. It swished the bottom of the net and as one of the Wyandotte boys tried to rebound, he knocked it out into the tangle of boys in the lane. Sam got the ball, we all shouted, "SHOOT!!" He did.

He made it.

The look on his face was one I will never forget for the rest of my life. Of all of the most precious memories I have, that one is going to stay pretty close to the top.

See, last year, he was the only kid on the team that didn't make a basket. His coach tried so hard to set it up for him, telling the other boys to back off so he could shoot. but Sam was afraid to shoot because he was afraid to miss. It's happened again this year, too - he gets rid of the ball as quickly as he can because he doesn't want to shoot and not make it. We've all told him and told him that never shooting will guarantee he'll never score. He can make the shots, no doubt about it, he just lacks confidence.

When that ball went in, he jumped and hollered "YESSSSSS!" and then looked up at us. Tater and I were on our feet - I was screaming, Mom was crying, I was crying, the slumber party girls were screaming and clapping, Paul was grinning ear to ear and I may or may not have seen what may or may not have been a tear in the corner of one of his eyes, but you didn't hear that from me. Of course, the moment wasn't to be savored because Wyandotte threw the ball in and did everything they could to make another shot before the buzzer, so he was off and running, grinning the whole way. We didn't win, they stomped us pretty good, but my boy made a basket.

I think he floated a few inches off the ground the rest of the day. I know I did.

Well, this is certainly a first

Back in November, Mom, Paul and I hastily put together a display for the Park of Lights(pictures at this link) at the nearby State Park. Conception to set-up was about 27.75 hours. We had a blast doing it, but didn't really think we'd get more than a few family votes or a few slightly inebriated votes from well-meaning and easily amused rednecks.

We came in 6th out of either 42 or 47 entries (Mom couldn't remember the exact number).

We came in SIXTH!!!!

Paul came in from work tonight and handed me a piece of paper out of his wallet. I could tell it was a check as soon as he pulled it out and my eyes zeroed in on the amount first. Then I realized what the "to" line said:

For some reason, I think that's just about one of the best things that I've ever seen in my life.