Future hairdresser

Cookie Monster loves "doing yours hair," which, through a paci in his mouth translates to my hair. He loves touching it, combing it, whatever I let him do.
A few nights ago he was "cutting yours hair" (with play scissors of course), while he was wearing high heels. When pastor called and I told him what was going on, he got a big laugh out of that. What was even funnier though, happened after the phone conversation ended.
Cookie Monster had been using some of my old makeup brushes to put makeup on me too. After he finished my hair, he wanted to put makeup on me. But he couldn't find the brushes.
"Where's the makeup? Where's the makeup?" he kept shouting, hindered slightly by the paci in his mouth.
The paci didn't hinder what he said next: "Where's the paci? Damnit, Bella, where's the paci?"
My mom asked if we scolded him. How could we when we were laughing so hard we cried?

Toilet training

So what contaminants can be gathered from taking a "swig" from the toilet???
LaRue just decided she was thirsty, stuck her hand in a sucked off the excess. Gross.
This incident leads me to an ongoing discussion: Princess, would you please close the toilet lid and the bathroom door???!!!!!
Ooops, gotta go. LaRue is screaming because she can't seem to fit a doll shirt over her head while she is trying to climb on top of the Thomas the Train table.

Night night

Last night during one of my half-dozen trips in to kiss my kiddos and tell them good night, I caught the Princess reading. She and Farmer Boy have been reading with just a book light on for the last few nights.
Lately, they've been reading their Bibles. But she was taking that even more in-depth.
Apparently, she's been watching me because she had a pen and a bookmark and was using that bookmark to underline things in her Bible. It just melted my heart!
She smiled kind of sheepishly.
I smiled back, but also smiled in my heart.

Pit Play

Here is a picture of the Princess playing in the pit at her birthday party. It's the one I got stuck in.

Pray for Hollywood

For some time now, I've received emails from the Hollywood Prayer Network. This group actually prays alone and collectively, sometimes even on site, for actors and actresses.
Anyone who knows me, knows I believe in the power of prayer. They also know I have a dirty little secret that I like to read trashy magazines. I know, there are other things I could be doing. But I read them AFTER I do my Bible Study!
Anyhow, here are a couple of disturbing prayers to keep on your list:
-As if Michael Jackson wasn't disturbing enough, he has now decided to change religions. He just converted to Islam and changed his name to Mikaeel. Jackson was raised as a Jehovah's Witness and recently decided to convert, following his involvement with Muslim friends in his current album. A friend of his, Cat Stevens, also converted.
-Jennifer Aniston was recently quoted as saying: "I don't have a religion. I believe in a God. I don't know what it looks like but it's MY god. My own interpretation of the supernatural." She also recently posed pretty nude.
So, keep these "leaders" in your prayers. Whether we like it or not, they influence America and especially those who are lost.

It's a "White Trash" Christmas

Caught your attention, didn't I? Our seven year old is too smart for his own good. Actually, all of our kids are now that I think about it.
He and the 6-year-old Princess were rummaging through the wrapped Christmas presents, trying to guess what they are getting. When they asked why Cookie Monster has more packages, I explained that we spend the same amount of money on each of them, but that his individual gifts don't cost as much.
While the Princess digested that information, Mr. Money Man (Farmer Boy) responded with: "Our stuff is more expensive. You buy him white trash presents."
Yes Farmer Boy, we love you more.

Oh, to loose that baby weight and then some!

OK. So, let me issue a warning to any "plump" people out there (those like me....):
DO NOT THINK YOU CAN DANGLE FROM A BAR 8-FOOT HIGH AND FALL INTO A PIT FILLED WITH FOAM SQUARES AT GYMNASTICS.
If you weigh anything more than, say, a tiny child, you SINK!
And if you haven't worked out regularly for some time ... playing college softball 10+ years ago does not count .... it takes a long time to find your way out of the middle of the pit.
And if you are surrounded by, um, about 15 little 5 and 6 year olds, it takes even longer to find your way out. Oh, and your socks start to slide off in the middle of the foam. And your husband will dessert you.
Maybe one of those last words -- dessert -- is what has gotten me into this mess.
Anyhow, it was all part of the Princesses recent 6th birthday party. I just wanted to join in the fun and feel like a kid again.
Guess I should've stuck to my response to the gymnastics coach when I said that bar seemed really high and that I probably wouldn't have climbed up there when I was 5 or 6. I then told her I probably wouldn't now.
But then she went to the other side of the gym, and you know what they say.....
"When the coach is away, the plump people play."
Or was it PAY?
I need some Tylenol.

Merry Christmas to the DR --- $$$$$$

So, it's been awhile since I've added a post. There are a couple of reasons for that. Well, actually maybe one:
-EMERGENCY ROOMS
We took Cookie Monster to the ER while visiting Papa and Mema out of state. Of course, the injury involved Farmer Boy and the Princess, but at least not directly. The three, along with a cousin, were racing through the kitchen when Cookie Monster fell and hit the corner of a cabinet just right.
I never knew head injuries bled so bad. I about passed out from the sight of the blood. That injury required 5 staples and four adults to hold him down. However, he just smiled when they stapled his head.
Right at three weeks later, we took another trip to the ER. Thankfully, this happened at home. That way, we won't have the authorities knocking on our door.
LaRue somehow fell out of her highchair. We think the tray was not latched. She had 2 stiches in her head. She, however, did NOT smile during the procedue. Neither did I.
Three hours after arriving in the ER, I told them I was leaving. I was tired of wrestling with LaRue. I'm sure they thought I was rather rude, but I'm not going to let her down to mess on the floor and my arms were tired!
A third trip to the ER involved the Princess. She came home from school with a huge bulging black and blue growth on her knee. Of course, the dr.'s office couldn't fit her in. Turned out it was just a hematoma. Yuck. I was worried she broke something, which she has done before and not complained for a few days.
So, three trips to the ER within a very short timeframe.
Oh, and just a short time after LaRue's ER visit, we had the stomach flu at our house.
She was the only one to NOT get sick. Nothing like having the two boys puke during a 5-hour road trip.
The biggest Farmer Boy in our house couldn't understand why I was yelling at him as he drove 50 MPH on the interstate. I was holding two cups full of puke and had it running up my arm.
The speed limit was 75.
Now, three of the four kids have pink eye. Isn't life grand?