Thoughtless Thursday

Are you kidding me?

This is an actual conversation I had with some guy at the mailbox the other day.

Some guy: "Are you a model?"

Me: "What?"

Some guy: "Are you a model?"

Me: "No. Are you drunk?"

Some guy: Hysterical laughing.

How we spent our Memorial Day Weekend

Friday was my niece's birthday so my parents made the trek down here again to come to her party. Imagine twelve 12 year olds in one house for a swimming/golf cart riding/slumber party. I think she had lots of fun and we all loved being there for it, but my parents and Mike and I also loved the fact that we got to come back to our house to spend the night. My brave sister and one of her friends were going to handle all those girls over night. Boys don't do slumber parties, right?

My parents were able to hang out with us until Sunday afternoon and they even let Mike and I go out to a movie Saturday night. We saw the new Indiana Jones movie and it was okay. But it was great getting out on our own for a few hours. Mike made what I will now be referring to as his "world class ribs" for dinner before we left to go to the movie. Can I just say I didn't have to cook at all this weekend?

Before my parents left they did what they always do which is to stock us up on all of life's necessities. Mom bought Jake clothes and some toys and daddy bought diapers and at least a week's worth of chocolate for me. Aren't parents the best?

Thoughtless Thursday

Gloom, despair and agony on me

Today was the last day of the year for the Mother's Day Out program I work at. Normally, I would have called in sick on a day like today because I thought that maybe I was going to cough up a lung or something this morning. It seems my horrific allergy might actually be something a little more serious like a horrific cold, or bronchitus or a tumor or something. But I didn't want to miss the last day because everyone knows you get gifts on the last day. Oh, I kid. I'm sure someone would have brought me my gifts even if I wasn't there. But I thought it would be bad form to call in on the last day. So, anyway this year was my first experience working with two year olds and let me just tell you that it will probably be my last. I love the program and the fact that our church uses it as a ministry to moms who need a break from their kids two days a week. I completely understand that moms of two year olds need a break from them every now and then. I also understand that I can no longer be the person to give those moms a break. Next year, I'll be giving the moms of babies from six to nine months a break and I'll be the mom of a two year old who needs a break. Do you see the irony?

I'm thinking babies will be good for me because I still remember what Jake was like at that age and also that age group can't yet run away from you or talk back. Or shake their heads back and forth as fast as they can in a "no" gesture while screaming at the top of their lungs. Or climb on tables and stomp their feet while running around madly until you catch them or they fall down and start crying. Are you pickin' up what I'm layin' down?

Don't get me wrong. They can be sweet. I've had several tender moments with each of these kids over the past year and I'm desperately trying to hold onto those memories instead of remembering what my last hour with them was like today. Because you see, today I got bit. Twice. By two different kids. Within ten seconds of each other. One girl came up to me and started off by hugging me and then all of a sudden I realized I was feeling blinding hot pain coming from my upper arm. When I looked down, I saw teeth embedded in my shirt and a crazy look in her eyes. As I ripped her off my bicep and told her in no uncertain terms that it is NOT okay to bite Miss Kim, I felt another pain in my other arm. Which had been preceded by the words "I can bite Miss Kim". Oh, no he didn't. But, yes he did. My left forearm was blindsided by a little boy who should seriously consider trying out for the part of the shark in the next Jaws movie.

All year long I've cleaned their poopy diapers, wiped their runny noses, kissed all of their boo boo's and now I will forever bear the indentations of their sweet little teeth on my once smooth skin. Sweet, sweet memories.

Washing the Dog!

Hello, its Jake today. Little Moma and Big Daddy have been slacking on here and I know Memaw's starting to get a little upset that she's not getting all the pictures she wants. So I'm stepping in here. Last Friday, Mommy went to a meeting at the church. While she was gone Big Daddy and I gave Brady a bath. It was so much fun! Here are some pictures of it!



Its too bad that Big Daddy can't take pictures while his hands were wet. He would have gotten some cute ones of me scrubbing Brady. Maybe next time.

All that work really got me hungry. So I asked Big Daddy to take me to McDonald's!!! I got my very own cheese burger and I ate some of Daddy's fries. The were soo good! Here is me eating a fry!



I'll talk to ya'll soon. I'm already starting to sound like a Texan...

Thoughtless Thursday

Hot to Trot

This is a picture of me and Amy that we took Saturday morning after we ran, okay mostly walked, a Hot to Trot 5K. It was my first official race and it was quite fun. Running (walking) isn't nearly as bad when 2500 other people are doing it with you. Our official time was 53 minutes which pretty much sucks, but we were held up for the first mile by the throng of people around us and maybe because we were talking too much and paying attention too little.

Could my face be any redder? It looks like I just completed a marathon. And how come Amy looks like she skipped the race entirely and just met me at the finish line with a cup of water or something? Also, I'm a little discouraged by the crow's feet and bags under my eyes. I will say I'm suffering from some sort of horrific allergy right now, but I'm not sure if allergies really cause wrinkles. I think I'll just go with that theory for now because the camera is cruel.

Honestly though I'm so proud of us for running for nine whole minutes during this race. We really stretched ourselves athletically. Now, I'm looking forward to our first 10K. I've definately learned to pace myself, push myself and take the race picture before the race and not afterwards.

Thoughtless Thursday

I give it an 8!

What's up with this new rating system I'm seeing at the bottom of all of my posts? It's filling me with anxiety and heartburn. It's one thing to be disappointed when I see absolutely no comments on my posts, but now I have the added pleasure of fearing a negative rating on them.

I'm thinking back to all of the times in my life where I've been judged. You know, like band or piano competitions or every single day of my life from seventh grade to my high school graduation. Oh, and let's not forget the Little Miss Hereford Pageant I entered in the third grade. I thought I had it nailed with my clever answers to all of their silly questions. Like I said I wanted to be a cruise director or a veterinarian when I grew up. Both very noble careers! I should have been Little Miss Hereford. But, the judges picked another girl. Her name was Tricia and instead of walking the runway carrying a carnation like all of the other girls, she held onto a beautiful yellow parasol that perfectly matched her beautiful, yellow dress. Cheater.

Also, a few years back I joined an online dating service. This particular service pretty much guaranteed to find your soulmate because they had a state of the art personality profile matching system. Well, after spending a couple hours taking all of their tests and waiting for weeks to see a match, they sent me a very disheartening email. Basically, these people had judged my personality and found it totally lacking. They said it was impossible to find a good match for me because I was such an "unusual" person. At least I got my money back.

The point I'm trying to make here is that no one really likes to be judged. People, I just want to be liked. However, a little constructive criticism never hurt anyone. Much. I'm not sure why this rating system magically appeared on my blog, but I have just one thing to say about it. Bring it on!

From the mouths of toddlers

Last week one of the sweet little girls in our class came over to me and just started wiping her hand across my forehead. So, eventually, I asked her what she was doing. And she said she was just trying to get "it" off. Well, after a few minutes of me wiping at my forehead and asking her if I got it yet, and her saying "no, Miss Kim, it's still there", I realized she was talking about the wrinkles in my forehead.

Mind you, this was after she pointed to the pimple on my chin and asked me what that was. And I said, "I just have a little bump." And she said, "I want to have it." And I said, "Just You Wait." She also told me that she wanted to push on my booby, but that's a story for another time. The toddlers, it seems, are curious about the human body.

So I spent most of the weekend thinking about these wrinkles on my face and wondering if I should do something about them. Botox? Restilin? Acid peel?
Well, today I got my answer. Today, another one of our little girls talked about carousels all day long. She built one out of blocks, she told me a story about one, and she pretended she was riding one. I thought it was a little strange, but whatever. Then at the end of the day, she came and sat in my lap facing me and said she wanted to pray. So I said okay. And she prayed, very intensely, that God would make that carousel she wanted to ride not so scary. So now when I look in the mirror and see all those wrinkles, I'm just going to pray to God to make them seem not so scary. And I will embrace them. It's called aging with dignity. Also, it's cheaper than cosmetic surgery.

Thoughtless Thursday