It's Hard to be 2.

If Camille could blog, here's what she'd have to say about the past weekend.

"Yo Peeps. Mil here.

I've had quite a weekend.

First, my mommy and daddy made me sleep in a big girl bed. I guess they got tired of me climbing out of my baby bed and landing flat on my back on the floor. I heard them say something about a broken neck and the possibility of getting really hurt, so they took away my jungle gym baby bed and made me sleep in a bed that's no fun to climb out of. Then they put me in it at night and told me that I was not allowed to get out of it! The NERVE of them! Well I showed them.



I'm technically not out of the bed. So nah.

Then, I turned 2 on Saturday. Lots of my family came in town and I had a good time with them. They gave me lots of presents, including a baby doll and the Mickey Mouse Clubhouse from Playhouse Disney, but then they sat me in my chair and sang the strangest song to me! Something about "Happy Birthday to You". I was a little freaked out. So I just looked at them like they had 3 heads.



But then I got an ice cream cone, so all was forgiven.



My mommy is a little sad right now because she says that I'm her baby and I'm growing up. She says that all of her girls are "big girls" now and she doesn't have any more babies. So if y'all want to give her a shout in the comments section, I know she'd smile and be happy.

I saved the best part of the weekend for last. If you remember correctly, the night before my birthday was Halloween. This was my first time to get to trick-or-treat. Y'all. I got to play outside, ride the Gem Car, ring doorbells, get lots and lots of candy (so much that mommy had to carry my pumpkin bag) and go to bed late. It was awesome.

And y'all. I totally rocked Halloween.



Peace out, Y'all."

Man, I love that kid. I have NO IDEA where she gets her stubbornness from. No. Idea.

Hush, Mom.

This Just In....

Tait was dry ALL DAY today. We are in the big battles of potty training (Lord, help us) and today was a break through day. She actually wore big girl panties all day and never had an accident.

Can I get a WOOP WOOP?

Tomorrow, I might tackle actually leaving the house.

Nah.

It's Game Day, But Not For Me.

**First, an update on the Sunday morning church nursery drama....
Camille passed out TWICE within 5 minutes of entering the nursery. Needless to say, we made it through points 1 & 2 of the sermon before we were called out.
Try again next week.
Kudos for these teachers allowing her to pass out twice and not freaking out after the 1st time.**

Today is game day.

Now, for those of you who know me/read this blog, you would think I'm talking about my Auburn Tigers.

Who, by the way, played an awesome game Saturday against LSU, and was 1 first down and 1 good punt away from winning the dang game. And why, in such a close game, did LSU climb one notch in the polls while we dropped 5 spots? Unfair? Uh, yeah. AND, I'm really hoping the Georgia Bulldogs kick butt and take names this coming Saturday against a certain rival school who thinks they're on track to win a national championship just because they've beat 3 lesser teams....

Anyway, this is not about Auburn Game Day. This is about the PeeWee football team that Mary Emma cheers for. For them, it's game day, baby. The guys wear their jerseys to school. The cheerleaders wear their game day shirts to school. Their uniforms are modeled after the high school's uniforms. They have a practice shirt, a game day shirt, a hairbow (this is the South - hairbows are mandatory), a cheerleader uniform, a monogrammed fleece pullover, a turtleneck for cold games, monogrammed head wrap for cold games, leggins, koozie for their waterbottles, pom poms, megaphone, and a monogrammed duffle bag.

Oh yeah, they're in the 2nd Grade.

Don't underestimate the power of pee wee football in the South, my friends. It's serious business.

Here was the main problem this morning.

The game day shirt, that is worn to school on game days, was no where to be found this morning when Mary Emma started to get dressed.

I found it.

In the washing machine. Niiiiice.

So needless to say, to escape the shame and humiliation of going to school on game day wearing something other than the appropriate game day attire, I put it in the dryer. And Mary Emma was late for school. It's a trade off that we had to make. You know, to uphold her responsibilities as a cheerleader. For the "80 pound and under" football team.

And next week is homecoming. The festivities are already being planned. You know, for the 2nd graders. The older girls will be escorted during halftime by a football player. Because we don't want to promote boyfriends/girlfriends in the 2nd Grade (or for the next 20 years, in my mind), our girls will be escorted by their dads. It will be a proud moment for Spencer and a tear filled, picture taking, video taking, chill bump covering moment for me.

Here's my girl, all ready for school, in her game day shirt, smiling just as I asked her to do.


And here's her version of the same picture. She is definitely our First Born drama queen. Agree?

And....She's Gone.

Camille is fearless. FEARLESS. She slides down the stairs on her stomach. She jumps off of anything that will stand still. She climbs on everything. She swings from lights. She is now taking gymnastics, which is heaven on earth to her.

However, the one thing that terrifies her to her core is being away from me. It doesn't happen too often, but when it does, look out. She will go ballistic. She doesn't like people talking to her, looking at her, and DON'T EVEN THINK ABOUT touching her. The drama is quite impressive. Or aggravating.

As a matter of fact, we haven't made it through a church service in about 6 months. After we take Mary Emma and Tait to their classes, we start heading toward Camille's class. Then the crying starts. Then the wailing. Then the screaming and clawing. And as I pry her off of me to go to the torture chamber that is otherwise known as the church nursery, I am covered in sweat, tears, and snot. As I try to straighten my clothes that have almost been ripped off my body, I walk toward the Worship Center and try to calm down and prepare my mind for worship. Not an easy task when your child is living her worst nightmare down the hall.

So we sit down, take a few deep breaths, and the service begins.

About 15 minutes later, whammo. Our security number flashes on the screen. You know, that number that means "Nursery teachers have had enough. Please come get your child."

And I failed to mention one little talent that Camille possesses.

She passes out. Cold. Unconscious. Flat on her back. She cries so hard that she literally passes out.

Oh, what a fun game that is!

Actually, she doesn't do it on purpose - she just can't catch her breath when she cries really hard and passes out.

Apparently, the nursery workers will put up with anything, except for unconscious children. Which means we get to take her to the nursery for 15 minutes, thus torturing her unmercifully, and then go get her and spend the rest of the service sitting in the lobby.

At least there's a Starbucks in the church. Because at that point, caffeine is a necessity.

Or a margarita. Which isn't typically offered at the average church.

Apparently, they've never tried to put Camille in the nursery, or it would be.

Yes, I'm Playing Fetch With My Daughter.

Don't judge.

Mary Emma is in school. Tait is in preschool this year - this is her 3rd day. Camille is home. With me. And no playmates.

Have mercy.

Today, we have taken Tait to school, gone to gymnastics, and gone to the grocery store. We've been home 5 minutes. She has already started the "Hold you, Mommy " routine (which is Camille-speak for "Hold me, Mommy") and has thrown herself in the floor out of sheer boredom. Twice.

So while I am putting up groceries, I grabbed a red mardi-gras necklace and tossed it. Either my wood floors are crazy clean, or there's a layer of dust on them (I'm not sure which...), but that sucker can slide all the way across the house. And Camille thinks it's hysterical. So she runs and gets it, brings it back to me, and the game starts all over again.

You know, the friendly game of fetch that people typically play with their dogs.

Funny thing is, every time I throw the necklace, Camille says "Don't throw it, Mommy." Yeah, ok. I'd rather go back to the whine and falling in the floor.

So I'm playing fetch with my kid.

I think I'll hold off writing that parenting book.

I'm a Finalist! Vote for Me!!

I entered a photo in the "5 Minutes for Mom Summer Photo Contest" and I found out today that I'm a finalist! WOO HOO!!! There were over 400 entries and they chose 20. And I'm one of them. That's awesome.

The prize is $500. Holy cow. That would make me one happy gal. It's sponsored by Skinny Cow. Again, holy cow. Those folks make some yummy stuff.

I need you to vote for me!!! PLEASE!

Go to this link and scroll down to where you see the pictures. My picture is listed as "3GirlsMom" It's #7 and is this picture of Mary Emma hitting a softball. The theme of the contest is Summer Fun. There are some awesome pictures in the finals and I'm glad to be a part of them.

The contest will end Friday, August 29th at 3:00 PM. So you've got plenty of time to vote. Multiple times. Like a lot of times. Bunches. Daily. Hourly. Minutely. Secondly. Ok, maybe not secondly, because you DO have lives. But any of the other time spans would be nice. Thankyouverymuch.

So head on over there and vote. And next time you're in the grocery store, pick up some Skinny Cow stuff. You will be happy and your waistline will stay small. Or, in my case, your waistline won't get any larger. I consider that a success.

Oh, if there are any of you techy people who would be willing to make me a button that I can post on my sidebar that'll send people over to vote, I would be so greatly appreciative. You know, my techy skills are pretty comical. I'm impressed that I even know what a sidebar is, if that tells you anything. Sad. In return, i'll gladly quote any line from the movie Space Camp, which was my favorite movie in 1986, for you. I can still remember every line. Every single one. I'm all full of useless information like that. And since I'm thinking about it, I might or might not get out my Space Camp VHS tape and re-live the wonder that is Joaquin Phoenix (known by his earthy name, Leaf, back then) as a 12 year old geek who's best friend is a robot. Ahh, cinematography at its finest. NetFlix it.

Meet the family.

We are at the beach with Spencer's family. Here are a couple of our traditional family-on-the-beach-wearing-khaki-and-white picture.


This is my world. Spencer, Mary Emma, Tait, and Camille.


This is Spencer's family. In the front row is Spencer, Tait, Angela (Stuart's wife), Stuart (Spencer's brother), and Jay (Stuart & Angela's son. Man, I love that kid. He's awesome.)
Back row - Jeff (Spencer's cousin who he thinks of as a brother. We are crazy about him), Camille, Yours Truly, Mary Emma, Peggy - aka Nam (Spencer's mom), and Ed - aka Pop (Spencer's dad).

They are all pleased to meet you and would shake your hand and give hugs if you were here.

Now I'm off to bed so I can dream of playing in the sand again tomorrow. And maybe the ocean if the gross seaweed would clear out. Nite y'all!

I'm here. I'm happy.

This is lame, but I'm packing to go on vacation.

Ok, I know you've all been waiting with baited breath for this list. And I'm all about pleasing you peeps. And I'm packing to go to the beach, so my brain is all full up with laundry and 17 lists of to-dos, to-pack, and to-put-up.

So this is all I got for ya.

Enjoy.

And please visit again really soon. I'll be at the beach with my husband's entire family, so you KNOW their will be some bloggy opportunities coming out of that!

Favorite movie: Space Camp, American President
Favorite ice cream: Baskin Robbins Chocolate/Peanut Butter
Favorite drink: Coca Cola Classic
Favorite veggie: asparagus
Favorite fruit: oranges
Favorite color: blue
I drive: Chrysler Town & Country
Favorite book in the Bible: James
Favorite author: Jodi Piccoult & James Patterson
Favorite actor/actress: ???
Favorite TV channel: TLC, Food Network, WB
Favorite News channel: FOX
Hobby: read, paint, play guitar
Pet: none
Collection: nutcrackers at Christmas
Favorite article of clothing: flip flops
Want to travel to...Australia
Issues: messy
Temperment: laid back, glass is half full
Enjoy the most: vacations, Disney World
Wish I was: skinnier
Glad I'm not: mean, stuck up
Favorite color lipstick: neutrals
Favorite makeup: Stila. Heard good things about Bare Minerals. Would like to try
Best beauty advice: wash face often
Personality: happy, funny
Best trait: my dazzling good looks. HaHa. Probably my sense of humor
Favorite activity: laughing
Occupation: wife and mommy
Favorite bedtime preparation activity: after I put the kids to bed, I like to watch TV with Spencer and be brain dead for a while.
Like bling: yes. A diamond is a girl's best friend, after all.
Favorite stores: Target, Talbots, Williams Sonoma, Smith & Hawken, Pottery Barn, Ikea
Dislike: WalMart, mean people, people who can only have one friend at a time.
Favorite job ever: teaching 3rd grade
Worst job ever: file clerk at a mortgage company. Spent a whole summer on my knees filing. Had to dress "business dress" too, including panty hose. Ruined everything I had.
When I grow up:I'd love to be an astronaut. And a good housekeeper. And a chef. And have someone clean my kitchen after I've messed it up.
Favorite city: NYC
Would like to: be a performer
Fingernails/toenails: horrible
Best hair product: Redken Glass
Current hair color: blonde. Just had it hilighted yesterday!
Demographic: 30's
Favorite room in the house: bedroom
Have too many: clothes I don't wear
Currently learning: blogging stuff
Last book read: 7th Heaven by James Patterson
Favorite Broadway musical: Annie Get Your Gun, Les Miserables, Miss Saigon
Tendency to be: naive, cranky when tired.
Irritants: whining
Greatest accomplishment: motherhood
Favorite lotion: Aquaphor
Favorite scent: clean babies right after a bath
Favorite flower: tulip, peony
Favorite season: Fall

Ok. Wasn't that fun? Aren't you glad you read the whole thing?

Now, back to laundry, list making, packing, etc.

That's My Girl!

Who says sports are for boys?

Attitude

My husband and I were talking last night about the funny things our kids said as babies. One story came to mind and we both rolled again. Here it goes.

Mary Emma was almost 4 when she and I went on a shopping trip to Sams. It summer in Florida, lunch time, almost nap time, and she was down right cranky.
After flying through Sams (which was a travesty in itself - I love to slowly browse through Sams) we got back in the car where she was almost in full out meltdown mode.
We were pulling out of the parking lot when I turned around to her and said, "You need to change your attitude, young lady." She crossed her arms and huffed her breath and said, "You tell me what an attitude is and I'll change it!"
Needless to say, I had to pull off the road because I was laughing hysterically.

I just had to share it. I also had to document in on Ye Olde Blog so I would never ever forget it.

I Love It When They Love Each Other

Happy Birthday, Tait!

Happy 3rd birthday, love bug. I love you so much!

Things I Learned from My 1st Slumber Party as a Mom

My daughter had her 1st slumber party last night. We originally invited one little girl over to spend the night. Then, at Mary Emma's softball game yesterday, 1 turned to 2, then 2 turned to 3. So with my three girls, plus our 3 guests, we had 6 girls ages 7 and younger at my house.

Mary Emma has had spend the night company before. But they have only come one at a time.

This was my maiden voyage into being the mom of a slumber party.

Let me tell you 10 things that I learned.

1. Little girls squeal. And they squeal more in groups.
2. The cuter the pajamas, the cooler the kid (according to the kids).
3. Popcorn makes everyone quit squealing. Temporarily.
4. Not all kids are taught manners at their houses.
5. Little girls can poot as good as the boys can. And they think it's hysterical, too.
6. After "go to sleep" has been declared my me, everyone has to use the bathroom (twice), get water, have a headache, lose their stuffed animal, find their stuffed animal, walk upstairs (thrice), turn lights on ("It's too bright!!!"), turn lights off ("it's too dark!!"), whisper, talk out loud, squeal, and then FINALLY fall asleep.
7. Regardless of when they go to sleep, they wake up at dawn. Note to self: only invite kids over who sleep late.
8. I'm more tired today than the kids are.
9. Remember to stock up on groceries. Just because they're little girls, doesn't mean they don't eat like horses.
10. Even though 3 of them weren't mine, they're still absolutely precious when they are asleep. I went downstairs last night after all was quiet and just watched them. God is amazing, isn't He?

Have a good one!!

The End of an Era

Ever since Tait learned to talk, she has called Mary Emma "Sissy." I loved it. It was her cute little affectionate word for her sister whom she idolized.

Then she grew up a little and started calling her "Sissy Emma." I loved that even more. It was precious. When she would say it, people would ooo and aahhhh and talk about the wonderfulness of sisters and I would smile and beam and be oh so proud.

Then about 3 days ago, Tait stopped calling her "Sissy Emma." Cold turkey. She now calls her "Mary Emma" just like the rest of us. I thought I would be happy. I thought I would think the sound of her sister's name coming out of her sweet little mouth would make me smile.

What I really wanted to do was curl up in a ball and close the windows and stop time because MY BABIES ARE GROWING UP!

Clearly, I'm handling it just fine.

And to top if all off, Mary Emma asked if she could wear deodorant. She just turned 7.

Then we were riding in the car today and I turned on an Elmo video for Tait and Camille. Guess what? They were bored.

I don't think I'm ready for this. Can they please just stay little forever? Before you know it, I'll be dealing with bras and boyfriends and lipgloss and obsessing over hair.....

Unless I can figure out that stopping time thing.

You Know How You Make That Little Quotation Mark Sign With Your Fingers?

My 7 year old never ceases to make me laugh. She is seriously one hysterical kid. Her new one for the week is making the quotation mark sign with her fingers.

However, she has no idea why she should make the sign. She just randomly does it.

Like last night. She was going to "get" in the bathtub. Then "she" washed her hair. Then she requested "pancakes" for breakfast. And she was excited about wearing her new softball "uniform" to her game tonight.

I was cracking up. It sooo reminded me of that Friends episode where Joey didn't understand the finger quote thing, either.

Ahh, funny TV show. Funnier daughter.

The Biggest Loser Hits Home

My husband and I are Biggest Loser fans. Love the show. Last season I wanted to be friends with all of the contestants and even had a small desire to have Jillian (the trainer) yell and scream at me. Love it. This season I haven't been as big of a fan. Haven't really had time to sit down and watch it. Haven't gotten as emotionally involved as I have in the past. Until this past week.

The guy that was most recently voted off is named Jay. He and his brother, Mark, were the last surviving "couple" on the ranch. They are born and raised Massachusetts people. They love each other like brothers should. They say things like "cah" for car and "hahd" for hard. The people of Boston would be proud. This Southern girl has to listen hard to understand some of their words. I'm sure they would need an interpreter for my twang, too. God bless America. :) Anyhoo, after a contestant is voted off, the Biggest Loser people give an update on them and let you know how much weight they've lost since being on the show, show their families and how their new healthy lifestyle is changing them, etc. Jay was coordinating a 10K walk/run to support the Beckwith-Wiedemann Children's Foundation. Beckwith-Wiedemann Syndrome is a rare pediatric disorder that Jay's daughter has. Characteristics are a large tongue, larger than normal height and weight, large birth weight, a higher tendency to develop childhood cancers like Wilm's Tumor and hepatoblastoma, abdominal wall defects, earlobe creases (that's a weird one), low blood sugar, etc. Characteristics in each child vary by degree and the scary part of the Syndrome (the tendency for cancer) is all but outgrown by age 8 or 9. Beckwith-Wiedemann kids are monitored for these cancers very closely. They have blood work done every 6 weeks to check liver function and have abdominal ultrasounds done every 3 months to check for abdominal tumors.

Here's the clincher.

My middle daughter, Tait, has it, too.



It's so rare that I've never met anyone else with it. I've NEVER seen in in any sort of national news. I was floored. My husband was floored. And we were INSTANT Jay fans.

The number of kids who have Beckwith-Wiedemann is 1 in 15,000. That's RARE. To show you how rare, here's a statistic. In the year 2004, 4.1 million kids were born in the United States. Only 274 of them had Beckwith-Wiedemann Syndrome. My daughter was born in 2005. I'm sure her statistic is very similar.

Wanna read about Beckwith-Wiedemann? Support them? Learn something new today? Visit the website. Beckwith-Wiedemann Children's Foundation.

Please pray for every BWS parent who has to go through cancer screenings for their child every 6 weeks. It's a tense time, but always a peace of mind when the tests come back negative. I know that God has His divine hands on Tait every day. I know he also hears our prayers for her health. He is a just, sovereign God who does all things for good and I trust His every move. I also think He gives us a little extra "wink" every 6 weeks when those tests come back negative.

Oh yeah, go Jay.

My New Favorite Thing

Ok, I admit to living vicariously through my 6 year old. Especially when it comes to clothes and fashion. She loves it, too, and is probably a bigger shoe fan than I am, which is saying a LOT. Anyhoo, we were in Target yesterday and found some Chuck Taylors. And they were pink. And I, er...um...she, had to have them. Check them out HERE. Yes, she wore them today. Yes, she thinks she's a rock star. Yes, I think she's a rock star, too.
I also fully admit that I'd look like a big ole crazy goober if I wore them, so I'll let her be the rock star and I'll sit back and smile at her.
I guess this is a sign that I'm definitely getting old. I can no longer pull off Chuck Taylors.
Boo.

O. My. Goodness.

Ok. So I walked in the kitchen this morning and this is what I saw.....

Yep, that's right. That's my 16 month old daughter standing on my kitchen table. I didn't get the wonderful opportunity to capture her hanging from the chandelier above her, but believe me, she was. HANGING. Like a monkey. Swinging.

Here's the whole story.

I walked into the kitchen and was followed by my 2 1/2 year old daughter, Tait, and by Camille, the climber. I mean, they follow me around constantly so I thought nothing of it. Then I walked back into the den to hang up a phone and walked immediately back into the kitchen. 20 seconds, max. I heard Tait saying, "Uh oh, uh oh!" and then there she was. Monkey girl. Laughing her danged head off. Proud of herself. Proudly shouting "CHEESE" as I was taking her picture. O, dear Lord.

My oldest 2 daughters were a cinch. No problem. I didn't have to use plug covers, cabinet latches, etc. I told them "no" once and they never did it again. Camille is my "reality check." What you can't see in the picture is the huge shiner she has under her left eye. That was from a spectacular crash into the leg of my neighbor's dining room chair. You also can't see the bruise on her right arm where Tait closed her arm in the oven door. Thank goodness the oven wasn't on. And if you think the injuries will deter her from the activities that got her the bruises in the first place, you've lost your mind. She ain't scared.

I was so proud of my lack of visits to the ER so far in my children's lives. Doubt that'll be the case for long.

I've about had it.

Ok, my husband, who I love dearly, has been out of town for the past 3 days.  This isn't unusual because his job requires a lot of travel.  But for some reason, this week has been especially hard.  Could it be because Mary Emma was up all night with nightmares, which made the following day exhausting?  Could it be because it has been raining and freezing for these 3 days?  Could it be because I've already changed 4 diapers this morning and I can smell 2 kids who definitely need ANOTHER change?  Could it be because I have cleaned up toys in the den 5 million times over the past 3 days and it still looks like a hurricane hit?  Could it be because I have even more to do this week because we are hosting my husband's entire family this weekend?  Could it be because I don't feel well and seriously want to rip this sore throat out of my head?  I mean, come on, I'm sooo over having a sore throat. Could it be that I bought Mary Emma a bag of 500 mini pom poms to decorate her 101st day of school hat and Tait just spilled all 500 all over the den floor?  Could it be because I think Camille just ate one of those pom poms?  

Ok, I've vented.  I don't feel much better, as the "venting myth" states, but at least I've vented.  Now off to change diapers.....again.