when you put a platypus in someone's bed it's called a platy-prank.............

Uncle Charlie to Maysie some time ago - What did you do to your hair?

M- I got it highlighted.

UC- Yeah one time I highlighted some strands of my hair....the ones that were more important than the others.

.................................................

May to me one night before dropping them off at Awana - Are you going to fix your hair?

A- Yes.

M- Good. It looks like the curly wall of terror and doom.

....................................................

Z in the car on the way to soccer practice - Did you know that a platypus is poisonous?

A- No

Z pretending to be a geek and dorking out someone else dorkier than himself - Hey, ya know that kid over there?.....Well, he got bit by a platypus. Now he has platy-pox.

M (from the back seat somewhere)- ....and he had to take some platy-pills and rush to the platy-porcelain pony when he had to platy-poop. He had to platy-pray to the platy-pope for healing so he wouldn't become platy-paralyzed.

A, Z, S, & CB (insert much laughing)

M- You have to cook platypus eggs in a platy-pan......and when you put a platypus in someone's bed it's called a platy-prank.

A, Z ,S ,& CB (insert much laughing)

.................................................................

Getting in the car for practice one night, it's just me, Z, and one other kid, I can't remember which one, probably Cole. Cole is in his car seat Z climbs all the way to the back of the van. I am like why is he sitting all the way back there?

A- Why are you sitting all the way back there?

Z- I don't know I just felt like it.

A- Well, sit up front or in the middle?

Z- Why? What difference does it make where I sit?

A- Number one because I said so. Number two because I am your mother not your chauffeur. I don't chauffeur you around from event to event cause I have nothing better to do...because that's my job. I purposefully drive you to those events because I want to watch you play. I want you to have a good time doing what you enjoy. So when you sit up front it acknowledges to me that you understand I am not your maid, I am your mother who chooses to take you to your happy place.

Z moving up front huffing a bit.....I know he is rolling his eyes though I cannot see it.

Z- Why Lord......do females have to be so dang complicated all the time?

The way I see it....I'm just breaking him in well for his future wife.......

....................................................

I haven't had the time to blog or do anything that remotely causes my brain to rot in decompression since school started and it's not going to get better any time soon. The only thing I can do is drive from place to place and try to "keep up with the Jones' " which I despise. I can't stand running all over Hell and creation throwing money out of my car windows in the form of gas and losing what feels like a life time in the drivers seat of my car. Keeping the files in my mind in order so as not to skip something is a freaking chore these days.

So one morning while lamenting in despair over my Outlook calendar looking like someone threw up lego blocks on it in the form of activities that steal my valuable time.....Cole shuffles into my room in the early morning darkness and crawls up in my lap. He nods back off to sleep.

I notice his top lip pushed forward as he sucks his thumb hard. I can smell his breath, it wreaks of a good nights sleep. I can see the veins in his eyelids, smoothly covering his big greenish eyes. I notice his stark white hair bleached from the summer sun and his tan body hanging all over me. His legs have gotten so long that they hang over one side of my chair and his head is hanging over the crease of my other arm on the other side.

My baby is so long all of the sudden.....in fact he isn't even a baby or a toddler, he's a little boy. When the heck did that happen? I try to hold him more like a baby to see if it will change my perspective, but it doesn't.

He's really big.

My last baby is a baby no more.

I pulled him close to sniff his hair and his face to see if he smelled like a baby. He smelled like shampoo from the night before and that's it.

CB(sleepily)- Mom.........quit smelling me. I took a bath last night. My stomach wants something delicious to eat. It wants toast with no butter and chocolate milk.

This means he wants toast with butter. If he sees you put the butter on the toast, he won't eat it. If you serve him the toast with no butter...he won't eat it. So you have to do it all in secret, then everything is furry bunnies and rainbows.

I completely forgot about that despicable calendar of events for the day. I realized that my baby boy was really a little boy.......

........all the time with all of my babies is forever gone. It was really a jagged little pill to swallow for a few minutes. My throat physically squeezed tight and my eyes tried hard not to get wet.........



.....then suddenly..... I felt euphoria.

It came to me, I would never ever, ever, ever, have to potty train again.

All the stars in my universe were aligned properly after that.

try again Momma, I'm getting in...........

Me showing Cole his new soccer uniform......

A- Hey Cole! Want to see your new soccer shirt buddy?

C- COOOOL! It's purple and it has two'd two on it!

......he's number "22"

......................................................................

I'm going through one of those times where no matter how many towels I wash there are never any towels in my bathroom to dry off with. For like 3 days or so I have dried myself off with a hand towel or two. I washed two loads of towels yesterday. When I went to take a shower one load was in the wash and the other in the dryer...so I was gonna use two small hand towels.....again.

....but Cole came in, stripped off his clothes, climbed into the tub and took one for himself. I thought I had locked the door, cause he's getting bigger and I don't want him in the bathroom with me anymore. I must have just missed the full shut (which is obviously, car door verticalness, not uncommon) so when he pushed the door and burst in with full 4 year old energy, this occurred....

A- Get out.

CB- No Momma, I wanna get in, but I don't want you to wash me off with soap. I just wanna play cars with you (stripping off his clothes).

A- I'm not playing cars CB, don't get in the tub. If you get in I am going to wash your hair with the blue shampoo(he hates this I know he'll leave now).

CB- NoooOOOOooo, the blue shampoo is in the garbage can, I see the bottle.....try again Momma, I'm getting in.

He does, I don't wash his hair, and I do play cars for about 10 minutes cause that's all I can handle and I pull the plug.

I am drying off with my paper towel, I mean my hand towel, and CB is standing on the toilet trying to dry his own hair. He is spewing off as many foul words as he can muster.....

CB- snot, dooky, fart sniffing dog breath, stinky spit globs in yer toe funky socks, rotten teeth, armpit hair, you are a dummy...

A- COLE! That's enough! What is wrong with you? Stop talking like that, it sounds awful. What would make you think to say all those not desirable things in one mouthful.

CB- I don't know, I just like saying random things sometimes.

I'm like, what the heck does he know about saying random things...and what the heck does he know about the word random?....

CB- Mom, I am gonna hide under here(under the sink where towels for your body are supposed to be) and I want you to find me.

A- You're under the sink.

CB- How did you know?

A- Cause you are the only naked child in here who told me they were going to hide under the sink.

CB- Okay I am gonna hide in Daddy's closet and you come find me.

A- No

CB- Yes Momma, I'm not gonna get dressed unless you find me.

A- I am not gonna find you cause I have to take Z to W*** & C*****'s and I have to get dressed. If you're going with me you better get some clothes on.

CB- I'm just going naked cause you won't find me.

A- That's fine, whatever Cole Bear.

CB- Fine, I'm going into the car now with no clothes on cause you won't find me.

A- Fine.

CB- ...and I am going to rub the seat belt all over my naked butt and get naked Cole Bear all over the seat belt.

A- CB, Fine whatever dude, I'm fixin to leave, for real. That won't bother me one bit (but I'm thinking Z won't like that at all).

I head out the bathroom door, call out to Z to rock and roll, and head towards the car...Z propels himself down his stairs like boulder coming through he floor.

Z- GET SOME CLOTHES ON COLE, GOSH!

CB- NO! Cause Momma won't play with me! I'm not gonna wear clothes today ZACHARY!

Z slams the garage door and is getting in the car with me.....

CB-(in the house).......Momma DON'T leave me!

wait for it...........wait for it............wait for it.........

I hear stomping and panic crying, nothing, stomping, panic crying and the door to the garage area where we are waiting flies open. I can see that I have won the battle of wills ....yet again, by calling his buff, er I mean his bluff...

CB emerges from the house, gets into the car, slams the door.....he is wearing a Dale Earnhardt, Jr. too big shirt that used to be mine, that he sleeps in and black cowboy boots. He gets into the car and I begin to back out.

CB- Momma....you didn't make me put these clothes on. I wanted to put theses clothes on...and these boots too.

A- Okay CB, you just didn't want the big boys to see you naked in the car. I thought you were gonna rub yer naked Cole Bear butt all over the seat belt...

Z- No! He isn't! That's disgusting!

CB- I am. I am just gonna do it later. I just wanted to wear my clothes for a minute.



What's that quote?

"No one ever choked to death swallowing his pride"

.......or something...

I just tooted my horn till Z signaled that was enough...........

On Monday Z had a soccer game in Maryville, which is about a hour from our house. The weather was not good. It was colder and rainy. I asked May to stay home with Frick and Frack till D got home cause I did not want to have to sit in the car with those people for an hour and a half while Z played soccer in the rain.....not feelin that at all.

They lost to a team with 4 big girls on it. I swear they looked like high school girls. They were as tall as me and not fat but definitely not skinny.....healthy we'll say. One of the girls ran into Z so hard that he literally went flying into the air and slammed on the ground.

I was in the parking lot above the field.....in the car....cause it was raining and cold....plus it was a great spot to view the whole game.

So when he hit the ground I was thinking, "....that had to hurt."...but he did get up. He almost HAD to get up cause she was a girl and all, the guys would have made fun of him.

Cause I am such a lame parent and didn't sit in the 53 degree, rainy weather, with an umbrella on wet bleachers with the rest of them.....when the team scored, I just tooted my horn.......till Z signaled that was enough he got the message.

Anyhoo, after the game I was cold and he was hungry. I had seen a Starbucks on the way in.

First I needed to get a gallon of milk from Kroger then we could head over for a warm drink.

Our Kroger cashier, totally had a beard......and she was a woman. I know when she looks in the mirror she sees facial hair. Why doesn't she bleach it or pluck it out or something? I just tried to shake it off and forget it......except there was this.....

Z on the way out the Kroger door - Mom, did you notice that lady was totally sporting a beard? Gross.

A - Yes.

....and then this....when we get to Starbucks, the Kroger cashier's sister or something works there.....the Starbucks gal has a beard too.

Z looks at me rubbing his chin & smiling and I tell him to, "shut it." I am like....ew, but whatever....white chocolate mocha latte with caramel drizzle within my grasp.

When I pay the bearded Starbucks lady I say under my breath, "Thank you Momma-Bet." cause my grand mother had given my children each a $5 bill while we were in Atlanta. I actually had some cash on me. Z thinks I have called the bearded girl "Momma-Bet."

Z- Mom, that was loud, she can hear you.

A- So.

Z- So. Rude. (quietly) and Momma-Bet doesn't have a beard....

I snicker and explain to him what I meant when I said, Thank you Momma-Bet, then I call him a dumb blonde, cause I swear the longer his hair gets the more thought process he loses.

I get my coffee first. I am waiting patiently to do our take the lid off, and scoop out the whip cream with caramel drizzle on it routine ....

Z gets his and instructs me to move to a table to begin the rituals.....lids off, fingers in scoop, scoop, scoop....heaven, heaven...delicious goodness.....

Under her breath, northern accent lady behind us on the phone - "eeww."

Z and I are somewhat embarrassed that our routine is disgusting to her, so we lid up and leave. We would normally do this anyway, but today we purposefully leave. On the way out Z says,

"It's okay Mom, she just doesn't know what the goodness tastes like."

Then he repeats her "eeww" a few times and its funny to me, that we grossed her out...in a Starbucks no less.

It strikes me that the bearded ladies were "ew" to me......and that me and Z were "ew' to that lady. It's somewhat ironic.

You can't take yer pants off right out here in the open.........

Saturday @ 7:15 I got up and started getting breakfast ready for the American crappy food eaters in my house. This consisted of reheated french toast from the day before, 1% milk and cereal with unnatural dyes in it, juice and Dunkin Donuts French Vanilla coffee.

D got up and fixed food for the Jamie Oliver Food disability people in my family which consisted of egg whites , 1 biscuit, 1 piece of toast with Smart Balance non dairy butter like substance that we pretend to think is delicious for Sky & some summer sausage.

By 7:50am I am off to get Z from a boys Awana TNT camp out. D is heading to King Davids with Caesar & Cornelia beginning Saturday morning rituals.

Once home I work in the yard rearranging my plants like I do every year. This year I moved a miniature rose bush that tries to thorn me to death every time I trim the thing. I could not bring myself to full out kill it cause I wanted the bush so badly long ago. I moved it to a spot where it could go wild far away from the kids and me. I mean the thing has thorns on it that could have been put on Jesus' crown. It's a hateful plant.

After that I gab with Cornelia a bit, then gab with our step-dog's mom a bit, finish weeding, and then head in the house to watch Justin Bieber on SNL with May, Sky, and Z that I had DVR'd for them so they could see what JB looks like.....cause at first we all thought it was a girl who sang this song.......

...the boy is only 16 but the tune is so catchy & fun...and he favors Z...well to me anyway. Except I think Z is better looking, I swear I do....but Z....he can't sing, he just can't, but he's cute to look at and that makes up for it.

next..........

So D decides he is going to spray our house for bugs instead of pay for a contract with an exterminator. Which I am down with, cause I guess the exterminators think fireworks shoot out of their bug killing dispensers. I don't think they are aware the economy sucks right now.

Though he has been telling me all day he is going to spray that evening and we'll need to be out of the house for several hours, I neglect to be proactive and make sure everyone gets a shower before we have to leave. D is NOW in full combat gear for spraying and we all basically look like white trash and need to leave the premises.

It's bad....I mean I am wearing a "Roswell" alien fishing hat to keep my afro down, I have dirt from weeding all over my clothes, and a uni-boob sports bra on. I mean it's bad. All the kids are filthy.

Z has been running the weed eater, he's grassy. He is completely freaking out because his hair is messy and his red shirt does not match his red shorts.

Cole has on two different Crocs, a bright neon green one and a Bat Man one. Sky's red teeth aren't brushed from a red drink she had been drinking, she is missing a tooth in the front, which makes her look like a red toothed hill billy, with ratty hair and a dirty face.

May looks decent...somewhat. She gets out of the car at Walmart, where we went to waste time and locate her some play shorts, underwear, and possibly a bathing suit, May says, "We are going to end up on one of those emails that people send out with awful looking folks who shop at Walmart." This makes me snicker.

As I look her over walking in the parking lot, thinking she looks the most decent...I notice she has a conglomerate of at least 15 stickers stuck to the bottom of her shoe, in the stickers is stuck a long piece of flowing white paper......tissue paper.....it's hilarious. I am just laughin away cause I suddenly realize she might be right.

May is delirious laughing with me cause she thinks I am laughing at he Walmart comment and that I think she is funny. I am just about to pee in my pants and she looks down and realizes she has all this crap stuck to her shoe and understands my delirium. She yanks it off and liters the parking lot by throwing it into the wind, keeps walking, ignoring me laughing now. I don't scold her, cause I am so done with the month of April.

Inside Wally World we locate bathing suits for Sky and May. Sky wants her own dressing room.

S- please, please, please mom, I can do it.

A- No go with May so she can help you.

Lucy McLame- a-vich form Losertown, USA, Wally World employee- Umn She can't go in with her cause all people are supposed to have their own dressing rooms.

A- Do you have children?

Lucy from Loserville - No.

A- So you don't get my need to have a helper with this one. She is going to need help getting this on. This 4 yr old is in need of a nap and closing him in that tight dressing room with me is just not optimal for privacy, cause that door won't be staying shut. (I try not to take Cole shopping.....anywhere....for anything. His has the attention span of a gnat. It was already 8:30pm..... past his bed time by the time we got to this point.)

Lucy from Loserville - Well, that is just our policy, one per room, really.... you can't go with her either, one person per room.

A- (I am thinking.... she is a child, LOSER, can I just slap you for being stupid NOW. We are the only people in the fitting area, count the dumb clothing hangers and see we have 3 suits a piece and try not to get power crazy with your dressing room authority)

A- One day you are going to have children and you will remember my face when you are struggling in a dressing room and need a little help.

Lucy from Loserville - (smiles) Yes....

Sky manages to get her suit on with out my help, and comes out to show me. She has taken off her underwear.

A-(whispering in her ear) Sky, you have to leave your panties on, Babe. Suppose some dirty girl....... like your self...........hasn't had a bath and tries those on with no underwear....

Sky's light bulb moment happens. Her eyes get as big as half dollars and and she starts taking off her pants right there on the spot.

A- Wait, wait, wait, Sky! You can't take yer pants off right out here in the open go back in and try another bathing suit on WITH yer underwear on.

She runs back into her dressing room as if she her butt is on fire. When she reemerges with a new suit on..... her neck is in the arm hole and like six straps are across one shoulder like Tarzan....she is smiling, a red one toothed smile, making sure to show me her underwear hanging out the bottom, by having pulled them out the bottom herself to show.

S- I like this one!

I shoot Lucy from Losertown a yer an idiot look and fix the bathing suit.......

Gotta go and start school will finish this later today hopefully, cause this day....it was long.

a monster truck stuck in yer hair is wretched.........

We have a stray "weenie dog" that runs our neighborhood. He's pretty friendly & cute. Jenny hates him cause we always pet him.

Although..... they have gotten a little more friendly with the butt sniffin here lately...anyway, that's probably TMI.

So CB sees the "weenie dog" running through the back yard and proceeds to call out to me,

"The goober dog is in our back yard!"

.................................................................................

CB was doing this cameo appearance in a commercial for a friend of ours. He owns a carpet cleaning business. They were to do the shoot at 1:00, we were to be there at 1:30 so CB wouldn't have to wait around and so forth.

So I go to take a bath. My head is submerged under the water, with my eyes closed tight, so that I can get my hair wet for washing. When I pull myself out of the water and open my eyes, I see CB standing on the side of the tub, naked as all get out, with clear swimming goggles on his eyes. He has a car in one hand and a monster truck in the other.

CB- (to loudly) MOM! Can I get in the baff wiff you?! (He gets into the tub, so it really wasn't a question.)

The monster truck is one of those that you push to the ground and the wheels roll hot,
push it forward to the ground some more and the wheels want to GO, GO, GO,
push it to the ground and let it go again and HOT DOG!!
The truck is hauling donkey's butt over any and everything in it's path.

He's doing this motion on my legs......and hear this..........out of the blue, he jerks the truck to my back and lets it roll up my back at a high rate of speed and into my hair............

yeah........into my hair..........and the wheels are tangled in the back right side of my Napoleon Dynamite hair.......

My first thought is....... Really God? I'm just trying to take a bath........Couldn't you have distracted the boy for 15 minutes so I could take a bath???

A- COLE! The monster truck is stuck in my dang hair boy! What on Gods green earth would make you think to roll that thing up my back and into my hair dude?!

CB- I don't know Momma, you hair told me to do it, my truck wanted to roll in you hair momma...

A- What??!

To me that is Cole talk for, "I just saw fluffy curling hair and wanted to see what would happen and now I know." Sort of like when he needs a nap he says, "I don't need a nap, my brain just needs to rest a little bit."

I'm working the wheels out of my hair, as I am trying not to get stupid with my language on the child. I am pulling little strands of tangled wet hair out from around the wheels. If I let go of the metallic orange truck it hangs from my hair. I think I should just leave it there and go to the commercial thing with the truck stuck in my hair....cause that's just the kinda girl I am. Who needs impractical earrings when you can wear a monster truck in your hair?

I didn't wear it, cause a metallic orange monster truck stuck in your Napoleon Dynamite hair is wretched.

moving on..............................

So me, D & May are watching the evening news one night. The anchor tells us the Waffle House on x, y, z, road got robbed.

In my mind, I'm like what moron robs the dang Waffle House....that's where they are supposed to go eat after they rob a gas station.

I'm still lost in the that thought when May comes off with this impression......

With one eyebrow cocked up, her shoulders hunched over like the hunch back of Notre Dame, holding out an invisible bag and some crazed out geeks gone wild voice......

"Hi, I'm creepy, I just got out of my straight jacket, now hand over all yer waffles, put'em all in tha bag and leave the ones out that are scattered, smothered, & covered." (and her one raised eyebrow was flinching)

......this was so random, it cracked my butt up. It told me in her mind, she also was thinking that the person who would rob a Waffle House must be a moron.

What is wrong with people these days?

you should only shave nose hairs when they are sticking out of your nose.........

I was at a pool party over the weekend and some of us gals were gabbing about random things cause I dyed my hair brown and I had to wear make-up to the party.

The reason I gave for wearing make-up was that because my hair was so drastically different, people would be looking at my face so I had to try and look good. At least till the newness of the color was not new anymore.

I actually did wear make-up to a pool party for middle school aged boys. Who does that?

...people with dark brown dyed hair, who have been blonde their whole lives......

So the husband of the house at which we were swimming ask me why I dyed my hair...he's bald, he didn't get it.....plus, he's a man....

I told him, I guess cause I was going crazy and it was my birthday and I was turning 39.....but when I was thinking about that later, turning 39 really hasn't affected me at all......but I am going crazy, for sure.

I weigh like two or three times a day

I grow my hair out and whack it all off constantly

I constantly pluck hairs off my face, even when there are no hairs to pluck I hunt for a hair somewhere that will give me satisfaction.

I absolutely cannot remember anything. For real, if it is not on my outlook calendar, it WILL NOT happen. God forbid, my computer not boot up one day, we'd have to sit in the house all day and stare at the walls in a zoned out trance.

If it weren't for the fuel ding-er thing in my car I wouldn't remember to put gas in my car, it's pathetic

......so anyway, whatever, ......we were discussing random things like zits up our noses, shaving utensils like the Epilady from the 90's.

Remember that thing would yank yer freakin hair out of yer leg? What a wretched devise that was.

I actually had a friend who could use that horrid hair yanker like a razor and never flinch. I had to bow down and worship that girl.

Then we were discussing shaving off our eyebrows by accident.....I told you....random, all cause I wore make-up cause I dyed my hair.

Anyway it made me remember the "As seen on TV, MicroTouch shaver." Oh Junk, I had to get one of those. I went to the "As seen on Tv" store in Lenoir City and bought me one in pink and D one in black. My pink one went bust and I just took his, cause he thought it was dippy. On TV the people would shave their eyebrows, trim their ears and nose hairs. It seemed like for every kid I had, I got a hair somewhere it should not be. My eyebrows were thick as all get out. So I was gonna trim them up real nice ....like on TV....with the utensil they give you and all.

uuummmm no

Cause see....they don't really tell you how to hold and angle the utensil, so I shaved my right eyebrow off partially. It was idiotic.

So I was just looking at myself in the mirror, trying to figure out how am I gonna fix this.

When this amazing idea came into my head about shaving out my nose hairs. I became distracted by that and forgot about my bisected eyebrow. So I thrust the black stick with a mini shaver into my nostril and went to town. I examined my handy work, all looked well, and super clean, I was feelin pretty good about my mini shaver again till I remember little half pint sittin above my right eye.

The kids thought it was a riot and so did D, in fact..... I think he might have thought I was an idiot too.

But here's the thing, let me tell on somebody......... my girlfriend Christi came to my house one day. She had already observed my mishap and had a good chuckle. My eyebrow had grown back somewhat quickly. But despite the fact I told her not to use the retched utensil, she assured me she would be careful, and she was............at my house.

I had an extra one and she took it home and shaved off her eyebrow in the privacy of her own home. She had to go get hers done by a professional cause she lives in town... where people actually see her everyday.

I hated to laugh, but I was due cause everyone already laughed at me.

Ok, here is another thing, when you shave all yer nose hair out....in TN.....you sneeze yer butt off all day, everyday for like 4 weeks or something...... cause there is nothing there to keep that stuff from going into your airways.

So don't do that, unless you are a man and you can physically see hairs sticking out of your nose.....cause that is really gross, shave that off, just not all that other stuff inside.

So I still have D's little black mini shaver. I use it to shave my uni brow white hairs in between my eyebrows. Sometimes when I feel reckless, I will shave the very edges of my eyebrows that are trying to grow to my ears.

.............................................................................

overheard

Sky fighting with Cole in the backseat and determined to finish the fight with the last words

Sky - "Cole, why don't you go soak your head in a toilet??!!"

I can't wear church clothes because they hold me accountable for road rage.....

I was writing this blog a long time ago, that I never finished, about how people act different when they wear their church clothes.

Like when I was the director of Sparks last year, for example. It was a Wednesday and I had errands to run. I didn't want to wear my red polo Sparks uniform shirt all day cause if I had road rage or something then I would be held more accountable, never mind the "Hard Core Jesus Freak" Harley Davidson style sticker stuck on the back window of the van. Just Kiddin.........sort of.

I sometimes would wear the Sparks shirt and use it as a witnessing tool when I would do my shopping cause people always ask you about it when you wear it. It's a no brainer if you are on your "A" game with the Lord. Witnessing spills out effortlessly. But if you are having a bad day and you have the shirt on and you are on your"D" game with the Lord, then it might not be so good.

So anyway I wore a pink shirt, this long, off white, shaggy sweater thingy & I had my hair in a banana clip, this particular Wednesday. Cause at that time I was on my personal mission to bring back the 80's, I'm over that phase.........sort of.

The little Sparkies(K-2nd grade) at first didn't recognize me. They thought I looked so "pretty." All night they kept saying nice things about how I was dressed. It was funny to me that they perceived me so differently outside of a red polo with my hair down.

Throughout the year I had given away kindness coins to kids who were exceptionally well mannered, followed directions well, or showed some kind of exceptional kindness towards another. This one little boy said, "Ms. Amy you look so pretty, I really like your hair and sweater, but I am really just saying this to get a kindness coin." I'm like, you just blew it dude. I told him, "If you want to get a coin sometimes you have to leave off a little bit of the words, like the part about I'm just saying this to get a coin...." But I did tell him honesty is a good thing.

So anyway......It just came up to me again that my family always looks different once we get to church than the way we look at home before. We behave differently.

The kids, almost every Sunday morning, fight & carry on in my bathroom, though we have two, over who is using which sink to brush their teeth. They argue who will take the dog out before we go, getting into the car & on the way to church. Almost every Sunday I have to tell them not to talk to each other anymore or I am going to put one or two of them out of the car & make them walk home. I have actually pulled over and pretended to unbuckle Sky and/or Cole. That effect lasted a long time, it resulted in good behavior in the car for a while.

I swear I think that is the work of the devil so that we'll be in the wrong frame of mind when we walk into the Lords house to worship. I am not swayed though. The more they argue and fight the more I determine myself to stay calm and over come the battle so that I might thank Him properly.

The moment the van door slides open in the church parking lot, smiles galore, oh we are the happiest little family, getting ready for church and the drive over was nothing but furry bunnies, pink floating hearts, and rainbows I tell ya. The birds start singing, the air is twinkling around us with glitter (insert record scratch).......whatever, my insides are a mess.

Why is it that people do that? Wear their facade.......I can't stand that. I do really try to be transparent. Cause my relationship with God is what it is, it isn't my clothes, or my thou saith's, or the Bible translation I use. It's just me. I can't be bothered with that piddly stuff, it takes to much work and it's way to tedious. I view those things as obstacles, and I don't even entertain them.

I am seeking to make my kids real. So that when folks look at them they don't see a facade relationship with God, the kind they put on, on Sunday, and take off after church. I am steadfast about the business of keeping them on the narrow path. I don't really give a rats tail about what people think we should look like. I mean it, I don't give a rat's tail!!!!

I am up to the challenge of bringing up real God lovers who look real to others, accessible. Who can say the name of God and not feel afraid of stereotypes put on Christians and how they should look & behave.

Cause here is a truth....just because folks go to church every Sunday, don't make them perfect. They are real, just trying to get it right, and be better for it. Christian families, argue, they stumble in bad decisions and then have to clean it up just like other folks.

The difference is we(Christians) have access to hope, grace, & forgiveness that compares to no other, it's not a facade. I live it every Sunday, and every day after that..........

I hope when you look at me, you don't see a facade.

I hope you can see Christ in me.

I don't always get it right, but I do seek to make it real and accessible.

it's like wrapping a small rubber band around a watermelon...........

.........as I was in the bathroom after dinner this evening tormenting myself by plucking out my eyebrows...I started to think why do I put myself through this torture?......so that I can do it again in three days, so that I can do it again in three more days.....

Plucking your eyebrows is the worst thing in the world, next to plucking off a big toe hair. Sometimes I tell the kids if they don't quit fighting I get to pluck a toe hair....fighting usually stops pretty dang quick. The funny thing is, if they don't stop then I get to sit on them and pluck it out as they squirm around; it sort of becomes a fun event for us all to see who will win....I always win.

I started thinking of all the ways women torture themselves, like shaving their underarms and legs. Not only is it something stupid to do since we were born with hair for a reason apparently, the reason we do it... is even more stupid. I shave my legs and underarms because my mother shaved hers, and her mother shaved hers, and her mother shaved hers......who started that freaking idiotic tradition?

Once I tried to wax my own legs. The box tells you to grow the hair on your legs to x,y,z, length so as to "get the best results"....that means so you will scream you head off in agony on the very first rip. Which is exactly what happened, I screamed my head off on the very first rip and then the second and third rip too...then I marched my butt right to the tub and shaved my legs with a razor....cause any woman who can do that to both of her legs fully is more of a woman than me every day of the week.

I mean like what maniac women thought, "Hey, you know....I am not uncomfortable enough, I think I will strap a super tight band around my chest to squash my breast....there..... now that looks better, flat boobs and man, these hooks digging into my back are AWESOME!" - better yet let me add some rigid wire to dig into my armpits and rib cage......

....once I was lamenting to Zach, of all people, about not being able to wait to get home and take off my bra it was killing my shoulders...and I said, "I am 100% sure some stupid man made a bra cause a woman would never create such an awful thing to torture".

....to which once he re-lamented back to me, "You have to cut this liner out of this bathing suit it is killing me, I am sure that a woman must have designed the underwear lining in men's bathing suits because a man would never do this to another man".

I told him, "...probably pay back for the whole bra thing".

Do you know I have only shaved my upper thighs like twice in my whole life.
Don't get grossed out, it isn't all that.
The hair on my thighs is so baby fine and blonde as can be, you can not even see it. I have thought to myself, if I never shaved my legs.... would they be the same way?

Once, this gal who is a missionary told me that it can take up to two years for a woman who has been shaving her legs all her life to get a fine baby hair re-growth. She told me this because she was going to be in a place where shaving wasn't part of the culture and she was not going to be able to shave. This for some reason had never occurred to me about being a missionary......hairy armpits and legs........initially I thought uuuuuuuhhh GROSS!! Then in some secret place in my mind somebody screamed You Go Girl! BE FREE!!

I have to say too, freaking, I hate wearing a dang belt. If I can get away without wearing one, which is always, I don't wear no dang belts. My mom always wears a belt......it kills me, but her pants really will fall down if she doesn't wear one, so I don't rag her out about it..... too much.

Oh yeah, and pantie hose......NO DAG GONE WAY, I never wear that idiotic invention anymore. Unless I am going to a wedding or a funeral where I am going to see people I haven't seen in a long time......its like wrapping a small rubber band around a watermelon, forget it, not wearing those.

They have this other idiotic invention now for women called Spanx, I wear those instead. So does Zach, just kidding.....me & May tease him though about his baseball sliding shorts that he wears under his baseball pants (you have to put your cup in them & so forth) cause they look like sports Spanx for boys or Man Spanx ......Heck the way I see it, if I ever mess mine up I will just wear Zachs.....again, just a joke.

sooooooo I guess I will go and finish what I originally started....plucking my eyebrows out. I have had them waxed before...that is a total breeze, quick pain and its over.

....but I can barely carve out time for a hair cut, plus should I really pay someone to inflict pain on me? No, that's idiotic............unless I am going to a wedding or a funeral where there will be people I haven't seen in a long time.