We are Oinkers.

Not like the little piggy went to market kind of swine.

O.I.N.K.ers

as in

One Income No Kids.

We used to be dinks.

Double Income No Kids

Then we became bats.

Broke and Tired

And now, for a short time, we are oinkers.

This is how it happened.

We went on a walk and crossed this magic bridge.

On the other side we found a village of tree houses with a swinging bridge.

At the top of the hill we are greeted by this character.

He promptly abducts Boy Child and friend.

Further down the hill we catch sight of Girl Child's favorite wild creature.

She is terrified and clings to her Protector.

Who runs for help.

While the Protectors were looking for help elsewhere, the Nurturers were settling the wee ones into there new digs high in the trees. That's Saucy Sashi checking in on the Girl Digs.

That's Saucy's kid, the love of Girl Child's life, also checkin' on the Girl Digs.

Girl Child is giving the whole situation Serious Contemplation.

I think they might be overcome with apprehension.Boy Child is devastated to learn he will be living with said character for next few days.

And I think this is a sign for what's coming my way.

Love Note to my Big Shooter: I am sorry this took so long to type. You had to go off to bed by yourself - Broke And Tired.

Happy Birthday to YOU,

Happy Birthday to YOU,

Happy Birthday Granny Mmmmm....


Happy

Birthday
to YOU!!!


And many more on Channel 4 and Scooby Doo on Channel 2... (that's from the Crumb Snatchers & Tana).
We hope your Big Day was fun, memorable and filled with love from Grandpa, your pretty girl -Montana and your fam!

We are looking forward to seeing you!

Got this one covered for ya Dad!

If you are looking for something absolutely delicious and so, so easy to make - look no further people!

I am speaking of the Pioneer Woman's latest recipe.
If you have been living in a third world country you might not know who I'm talking about. Other wise you, and a very small handful of Americans, are missing out...

She is funny. She is down to earth. She is married with kids. And the girl can cook!
It looked just like the first photo going in and then just like this photo coming out...

And the taste? Oh. My. Word. The taste.

Y.U.M.

We are going to be using the heckfire out of this recipe. I gar-un-tee ya of that! First we are going to add artichoke hearts, sun dried tomatoes, black olives and a little feta... It was so dang easy. If you know anything about me, you know I get to check the Beginner bubble whenever I list my cooking skills. Easy-peasy lemon squeezy is right up my alley!

The reason for the title?

Well, someone I might or might not know, someone I might or might not be related to, someone coming to visit me soon might or might not have been asked to be the Test Chef for a certain agoraphobic woman living on a huge cattle ranch and writing a cookbook. Maybe.

So hurry. Don't dilly dally. Click on over to Pioneer Woman Cooks and check it out!

Love Note to my Big Shooter: Thanks for always trying what I make and never dreaming of suggesting we go out and get something else... until I do first.

Random Homeschool Fact Learned Today

*Scientists believe there are over 1,000,000,000,000,000 ants on the planet right now.

Ewwww. That's just the ants! I do not like beetley, leggy, crunchy, up-close scary lookin' insects.

*Ants can carry 50 times their own weight.

I can't imagine carrying ONE of me around.

*Besides your typical red, brown and black, ants come in these rockin' colors as well:
blue, yellow, white, purple, orange and green...

No, I am not kidding. We read it in our Nature Trivia book today. And unlike the Internet, I tend to believe what is written in a non-fiction, nature fact book for kids. No wonder some cultures eat them like candy. "You like the orange ones? Like ewwww. My fave are the purple ones. They taste so like grapes if you close your eyes and use your imagination!"

Can't wait to read about bat guano. It's coming. Yippee. More poop. Bat's this time. Bat Poop. Nature. Trivia. They love it.

Love Note to my Big Shooter: 2 weeks back on the Slave Ship. It's hittin' like a ton of bricks Big Guy. Let things go this weekend Love. Rest. Restore. Rejuvenate.
Besides, the kids are leaving Sunday...you're gonna need it...

All together now..."Ahhhhh"

In case you can't make it out, it says, "You are my heart. Love, Dad."

I know. I know! Sweet. Precious.

Every time she reads it, her smile goes all the way down to her "my Daddy loves me" being.

I know. I know! Sweet. Precious.

These are the reasons I will have to keep close to the top of my psyche now that she's going to want to keep the nasty thing forever!

Love Note to my Big Shooter: You know just the right thing to say...always. I can still be bowled over by the words you whisper, say, groan, sign or even shout. When they are said to either Crumb, I melt even faster and with not even a hint of gagging.

Negotiations

The negotiating and bribery that goes on between the Crumb Snatchers before bedtime is astonishing. Here's a typical conversation:
Boy Child: Can you sleep in my room tonight?
Girl Child: No.
Boy Child: Pleeeease? I'll let you sleep at whatever end you want.
Girl Child: No...
Boy Child: I'll give you a bunch of my money in my piggy bank.
Girl Child: How much? And I don't want your icky feet to touch me or get under my blanket.
Boy Child: Can we sleep in your bedroom. There's more room. (Which by the way is a gross over statement...)
Girl Child: Only if you let me sleep with all my cuddlies. (5 Bajillion of them.) And I get all your money in your piggy bank.
Boy Child: Okay. Deal. Moooommy, can I borrow some money...?

I would love to let you think it's because he loves her and wants to fight off the boogie men for her each night... But the truth is, he's as scared of the dark as his old Momma is. I'd probably still be having these nightly negotiations with my Mommy if I hadn't married Big Shooter. Now there's a Boogie Man Fighter for ya! I hope one day his son follows in his footsteps. I'd hate to think of the negotiations that would take place with his new little bride one day.

Love Note to my Big Shooter: Thank you for eradicating all my Boogie Men. Because of you, I can bravely face each new day.

Crumb #1 Speak

While reading something I typed a few days ago:
Boy Child asked, "What's BFF?"
I explained it stood for Best Friends Forever.
This afternoon he said, "Brady is my BFF."
I smiled and said, "Every one needs a BFF. I'm glad he is yours. But, just so you know, the term BFF is usually used for girls."
Not missing a beat he proclaimed, "Then Brady is my BFFBV." A triumphant grin, then an explanation, "Best Friend Forever Boy Version."

Awww, yes, the Boy Version. How I love everything the Boy Version has to offer. I never, okay rarely, tire of the Boy Version.

Summer is Here

Every time I make Cowboy Salsa someone asks for the recipe. There are many versions out there. This one is from a dear Momma friend who's recipe calls for cumin. It lends a unique and addictive flavor. Guaranteed.

Cowboy Salsa

1 15 oz. can black beans (rinsed)

1 15 oz. can sweet corn (drained)

1 med. jalapeno (seeded and finely chopped)

4 Roma tomatoes (chopped)

1 yellow, orange or red bell pepper (diced)

1 small purple onion (diced)

1 avocado (diced)

1 tsp. cumin

2 Tbs. olive oil

1/4 cup lime or lemon juice

1 tsp. salt

2 cloves minced garlic

1/3 cup cilantro

Mix all ingredients, except avocado, together in large bowl. Add avocado right before serving. Tastes best after ingredients have had time to marinate a few hours but can be served immediately.

Great with tortilla chips and fabulous over grilled chicken, pork or fish.

***Head back over to Rocks in my Dryer for more Works for my Wednesday tips!

Seeking Advice

The Crumb Snatchers are headed off to camp in a few days and I am full of queasiness.

I did not cry when either of my babies walked into their first days of school and joined the rest of the grown-up kids.

But the morning of the older child's maiden camp day...buckets and buckets. So much so, he pleaded with me the whole way there to '"get a hold of myself" before anyone saw me. He turned into the adult. Saying things like, "It's only for the day Mommee. You are going to come get me at 5:00 every day. I am a swimmer Mommee, I won't drown. Our counselors are trained with First Aid and CPR... You're gonna be fine, Mommee."

He was right of course. He and I both had a grand week. He with his buddies. I with my precious Girl Child doing girl child things.

The next year when she was old enough (by my personal standards, not theirs) I dropped her off with neither a tear or a glance back...that she knew of. I, of course had already grilled her counselors prior to the date. She ended the week by pronouncing it "the greatest week of my life". She was serious and I have heard nothing other than this summer's camp.

That would be because this summer it is... gulp...bigger gulp...overnight...several overnights.

Boy Child has a buddy going. I am not concerned in the slightest. Male bonding. Ugh. Ugh.

Girl Child. Well, she I am concerned about. Her BFF had to back out because of health issues. I immediately went into overdrive trying to find someone else or talk Girl Child into something else. No go. When I and Big Shooter voiced our concerns about not having a buddy, she said she'd make one. When we fretted over other's naturally excluding her because they'd have their camp buddy, she informed us she knows that may happen and she'll find herself a buddy. When we pulled out the Big Gun and said, "What about the nights? Sleeping with a bunch of strangers? All alone?" She informed me they wouldn't be strangers for very long. True enough with her personality. "And" she added, "what if there is another little girl there all by herself and God wants me to be her friend?" Nothing like being shot between the eyes with your daughter's bazooka.

So, she's going. By herself.

And I'm trying not to freak out.

This all leads me to a couple questions for you all since you always give such great advice.

1. What kind of "special extras" do I pack? Other than the items the camp requests of course. Which are the basics: bathing suit, back pack, bible, sunscreen, Off, icky shoes, etc. There's a Camp Store. Their Grammie sent them some rainy day $ so I am putting it in for them. I am sending them each an address book for them to receive in the mail the first day. But, that's about it. My mind is dry.

2. What are your or possibly your kid's favorite camp memories so I may glean some insight?

Thanks all. I'll let you know mid next week how it went.

Love Note to my Big Shooter: Honestly, I don't have one tonight. Shootin' it straight? I am hoppin' fire mad at him at the moment. Let's see...something positive? I know! He's breathing nicely. ...for now anyways.

Frying pan is sounding good about now

I 've noticed in the past year or so a vast decline in my own and Big Shooter's memory capacity. One of us will be in the midst of telling the other some vital piece of information or hilarious story about our day when the one listening will say something like, "You've told me this before...like 3 times...". The one re-telling the account gets the same puzzled, incredulous look and always asks, "Really?" To which the punch line or important info is revealed to unbelieving and shocked ears.

Lately, I've realized the drugs/organ removal/cancer trauma/something has drastically affected what little capacity Big Shooter had left. He seems to be having difficulty remembering one conversation to the next. Let alone who the Crumbs and I are...

A recent conversation went like this.
Me: "Love, we'll be ready to go in just a few minutes..."
BS: "Go? Where?"
Me: "The pool... Remember, you called me and said you were coming home to have lunch and then go swim with us?"
BS: ?????? "Wow. Really?"
Me: Yes. (pause) You're gettin' really bad...what's up?
BS: Very matter of factly he shrugged and reminded/informed me, "I had cancer," like that made perfect sense.
Me: "Oh! Of course...that makes perfect sense. So...what do you think my excuse is?"
BS: Without a moment's hesitation and as matter-of-factly as could be he reminded/informed me, "You're insane."

It took him a few seconds for his brain to register, "Yes. I just said that out loud. And she heard me..." He just stood there with a deer in the headlight look.

The heavy, thick silence could have been cut with a knife. A butcher knife. Or an ax. Or a frying pan, for those of you who remember that little helpful piece of advice...

The good thing for him is - I guarantee he's already forgotten the whole conversation.

How about you all. How's your memory these days?


Love Note to my Big Shooter: Thanks for not forgetting all the little details of our courtship. It melts my heart whenever you recount a moment for me or the Crumbs...choke, sputter, GAG.

Blueberry Mornin'

Out of the blue...he's up one morning last week throwin' together blueberry pancakes for the Crumbs.

I'm not going to mention what the kitchen looked like after.

What matters is they loved 'em. And know he's a very thoughtful and fabulous father. Because they definitely did...and he certainly is.

Love Note to my Big Shooter: (just a really big, deep sigh)

In awe

I am in absolute awe of you.

You have endured unimaginable pain.

Unrelenting stress and tension.

Uncertainty. Doubt.

You've handled it all stride.

You've faced it all with that smile that melts my heart.

You've put your family first.

You've earned a golden set of wings.

You've just been you.

Crumb #1 Speak

After being instructed to look for a library book in a large basket, "Mommee, I'm just tellin' you straight...it's not in the wicked basket!" (wicker)

Confession of an addict

I have a public confession.

I am seriously addicted to crack.

It has gotten to the point where it affects my family.

In fact, it's become such a problem Big Shooter has exhausted all leads to keep me supplied.

When ever we come across a supplier, we buy him/her out completely.

If anyone near Plainsville knows of where I can get hooked up...

Please, please my family begs you to let us know so peace may reign again in our house.

Crack.

Get it?

Farm fresh eggs.

Love Note to my Big Shooter: (Big, deep sigh) I am the luckiest girl in the world. Sex, drugs and rock-n-roll.

Crumb Snatcher Speak

Boy Child explained, "Don't worry we're just migrating," as I glanced up to see them walking with blankets and pillows in hand from one's bedroom to the other's.

Girl Child explained the sex of Sashi's baby goats to me this way. "There is one honey pot and two sour pots." Hmmmm.


Love Note to my Big Shooter: Thank you for always asking what I want to watch before you settle on a choice.

Gonzers...

Little, teeny, weeny, adorable Buttercup is on his way to be Leo...or maybe Lola today.

Unfortunately, I wasn't kiddin' when I said we're not keeping him. Boy child is allergic to cats.

We gave it a whirl. Apparently, after 48 hours he would require Benadryl intravenously to live in the same house as a cat.

Since we spend a fair amount of time at home with schoolin' and all my Super Savior girlfriend Jen graciously/thankfully/with hardly any pleadin' & beggin' agreed to adopt the precious Wee One.

If he is truly a boy (we had a some what of a cat whisperer identify the sex cause apparently when they are so young their...ahem, appendages/packages...identifiables are not very identifiable yet). Anyway, if he's truly a boy - his new name will be Leo. However, if he turns out to be a she - her new name will be Lola. I love that name. I should have named Girl Child Lola. It can sound fun. Lola! Like, La Vida Loca! Or sexy. Low-la. Or ordinary Girl-Next-Door. Lola La-tee-da.

Jen will not be able to officially call him anything until tomorrow's vet visit. She suffers from MGI. Mistaken Gender Identity. Her current resident feline's original name was Charity...that has now been corrected. He's been de-pinkified and is now called Charlie. His Identifiables were unidentifiable at the time of the original christening.

I'm sure she'll keep us updated and informed on Buttercup/Leo/Lola's status in the comments.




***Update*** Buttercup is now Leo - the Blue Tabby Cat. He is loving life in his new digs with very cool toys and a doting Momma.

Love Note to My Big Shooter: Big day today going back to the Slave Ship. As usual, not a word of complaint or worry when you came home exhausted. Just concern for your family's well-being. You are a saint. My saint. Sigh.

I repeat, we are NOT keepin' him!

Have I ever mentioned our knack for accidentally finding/enticing strays?

The excuse, "It just jumped in my car!" never really held any credence with Big Shooter. That was until one very rainy night he saw they really do just jump in our vehicles. Albeit, the door was opened for that particular dog. But, still. It jumped into my car.

And now it/she lives happily ever after with a certain Indy Car Racing Fan I know.

We have had a whole parade of strays through the years. There was the hugely prego Miss Kitty. An injured opossum. A giant lake clam named Shelly (a story unto itself for another time). A certain gentle giant named Jack. A sweet, little, black dog that Big Shooter actually wanted to keep...the list goes on and on.

And now? Well, now we taken in...

teeny, tiny, precious Buttercup. And we are NOT keepin' him.

Buttercup is a boy. He just doesn't know it.

By the way, that's Girl Child's shoe. Not Big Shooter's. I didn't want you to miss the point that he is teeny, tiny and very helpless. And we're NOT keepin' him..


Even though he's made himself at home.

Right at home.

We're NOT keepin' him.

Happy Father's Day Dad & FIL

You get to go on a little blog scavenger of sorts today. But before we do that, I thought this little ditty by Ole Erma was a dead ringer for you two sweet, cry babies...

When God Created Fathers

by Erma Bombeck

When the good Lord was creating fathers He started with a tall frame. And a female angel nearby said, "What kind of father is that? If You're going to make children so close to the ground, why have You put fathers up so high? He won't be able to shoot marbles without kneeling, tuck a child in bed without bending, or even kiss a child without a lot of stooping." And God smiled and said, "Yes, but if I make him child-size, whom would children have to look up to?"

And when God made a father's hands, they were large and sinewy. And the angel shook her head sadly and said, "Do You know what You're doing?" Large hands are clumsy. They can't manage diaper pins, small buttons, rubber bands on ponytails or even remove splinters causedby baseball bats." And God smiled and said, "I know, but they're large enough to hold everything a small boy empties from his pockets at the end of a day ... yet small enough to cup a child's face in his hands."

And then God molded long slim legs and broad shoulders. And the angel nearby had a heart attack. "Boy, this is the end of the week, all right," she clucked, " Do You realize You just made a father without a lap? How is he going to pull a child close to him without the kid falling between his legs?" And God smiled and said, "A mother needs a lap. A father needs strong shoulders to pull a sled, balance a boy on a bicycle, or hold a sleepy head on the way home from the circus."

God was in the middle of creating two of the largest feet anyone had ever seen when the angel could contain herself no longer. "That's not fair. Do You honestly think those large boats are going to dig out of bed early in the morning when the baby cries? Or walk through a small birthday party without crushing at least three of the guests?" And God smiled and said. "They'll work. You'll see. They'll support a small child who wants to 'ride a horse to Banbury Cross,' or scare off mice at the summer cabin, or display shoes that will be a challenge to fill."

God worked throughout the night, giving the father few words, but a firm, authoritative voice; eyes that saw everything, but remained calm and tolerant. Finally, almost as an afterthought, He added tears. Then He turned to the Angel and said, "Now are you satisfied that he can love as much as a mother?"

The angel shuteth up.

Click here for next part of message.

Our daughter - the fish

I'd be willing to bet Big Shooter's other kidney it was a Momma who finally invented the waterproof casts.

The truth is she's not suppose to be in water above her waist without a life vest.

Since she can't swim with the cast and all.
Or dive... Or swim in the deep end.
This is a perfect pose for her thus far for her summer.

She is swimming like a fish with that one arm.

It is going to be made of steel by the time that cast comes off.

Gimme Five!

I love memes. I don't know why they're called memes, but I love to read them on all the blogs I visit. I got tagged a while back from Tess at Pardon Our Poo and just yesterday from The Good Flea with the same meme. So now you get to know 30 more more titillating facts about me. I know you are waiting with baited breath so I won't keep you in suspense any longer.

5 Things I was doing 10 years ago:
* I was 6 months into my third pregnancy.
* I had just finished my 7th year of teaching 3rd grade in rural Oklahoma.
* I was a happy TINK. (two income no kids)
* My favorite past time was tent camping with Big Shooter and our 2 Great Pyrs.
* Blissfully unaware of how my life was going to be forever changed.

5 things on my to do list for today:
* Teach the Crumbs.
* Lose 75 lbs.
* Dishes & Laundry
* Re-pot some flowers.
* Enjoy last Friday of convalescence with Big Shooter.

5 things I would do if I were a billionaire:
* Take very good care of my entire family.
* Take very good care of several non-profits.
* Take very good care of a few investors and brokers.
* Take very good care of the employees working at the world's best fat farm.
* Take every opportunity to help others.

5 of my bad habits:
* Procrastination
* Drinking out of the milk jug.
* Playing Chicken with the fuel gage in the car.
* Staying up waaaay too late.
* Reading just one more blog.

5 places I have lived:
* Twin Falls, Idaho * Chicago, Illinois * Elko, Nevada * Tulsa, Oklahoma * Plainsville, USA

5 jobs I have had:

*Hallmark Clerk *Field Crew Boss * Mail Schlepper * 3rd Grade Teacher *Momma

5 People I Want to Know More About:
I would love to tag a few of you I'd love to know more about so here goes.
I'd love to get to know more about the new Auntie Erin from My Own Little Corner. Two of my girlfriends who are my scrappin' buddies.- Andrea from Our li'l Farley Blog and Jen from Trav Family Doin's. The brand spankin' new Grammy in Nevada Sheila from the King Klan. And last, the hilarious author of The Home Team Wins!

Technical Difficulty Survivor

All modes of communication in our humble abode are ridiculously (Big Shooter please read this as ingeniously) all wrapped up together. Therefore when one goes, they all go.

The speed/concern shown in addressing/fixing the communication problem depends solely on a certain person's well-being.

For instance, several days ago I mentioned a problem I was experiencing while on the net to this certain person. His response was a nonchalant shrug and something about a "little glitch" that probably needed to work it self out.

A few days ago when one of the Crumbs got off the phone and casually mentioned it was acting weird, that certain person pretended to not hear the concern and continued happily staring at his boob tube.

Welllll...that all came to a screeeeching halt Monday when (GASP) it all went awry...including the blessed-life-line: cable.

I am truly not sure which is worse to allow my children to witness: Their father's cable withdrawals or having his toenails plucked one by one?

When the first wail hit my ears - I ignored it and continued reading my smut book. When the gnashing of teeth started I nonchalantly shrugged and said, "It's a little glitch...I'm sure it will work itself out Love." (insert evil chuckle here please)

All I can say is "Thank you God for the precious angel you sent in the form of a cute, polite, young man in a Cox uniform." Not only did Big Shooter become rational and calm again, but I thoroughly enjoyed looking, in mean conversing with Derek too.

Not all time was lost because of lack of communications. Much to Big Shooter's chagrin the world did not come to an end.

We did some much needed yard work.
Planted some nice flowers and pots.
Enjoyed the latest rainstorm together on the porch.
Wrote some overdue, heartfelt Thank Yous.
Started a new Uno Attack tourney.
Washed the dog.
And I started and finished this man book.






(It rocked, by the way. Great break from my normal smut books.)

All said and done, I'd say it was a pretty good way to spend the last few days together. After all, Big Shooter's convalescence is over on Monday. Back to the Slave Ship for him.


And normalcy for the Crumbs and me.

We Miss You FIL

Crumb Snatcher #1 Speak

"Mom, what does gay mean?"
"I think it means very happy. What do you think it means?"
"Welllll, I think it has two meanings"
Big Shooter and I exchange glances and I ask the obvious, "Really? And what are the two meanings?'
"The first means happy. And the second...welll..." He is noticeably very uncomfortable.
"Go ahead Honey. What is the second one?"
After a few seconds he says, "It's like 3 or 4 s-words (shut-up) at the same time... If you say it, you better be ready for that person to be really, really mad at you."
"And how do you know the difference?"
"Well, they are spelled differently. The good, happy one is g-a-y. And the mean, cuss one is g-e-y."
His dad praised him by saying, "I know that was uncomfortable for you, but you made the right decision to tell us what you'd learned from others. We really appreciate your honesty." #1 basked under the praise and nodded a father/son understood salute towards Daddy.
I did not/dared not make direct eye contact with Big Shooter for the rest of the ride.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

After receiving a sideways Momma look for a seriously silly comment Boy Child matter-of-factly stated, "I do have lots of common sense Mom...I just choose to ignore it."


Love Note to Big Shooter: I am so glad you are such a gay addition to this family.

Update on Big Shooter: We went to the GI today. He took some blood, gave him a prescription and as usual, we'll have to wait and see what the results say...

Update on Crumb #2: She also saw the doctor today. Her bones are perfectly aligned and healing nicely. She was very disappointed to find out she has to wear the bigger cast though for at least two more weeks. We reminded her it was her sympathy card and bought her some ice cream. She feels better now.

A bit of advice

I was recently looking at plants in a little family owned nursery. While I was perusing the greenhouse aisles I noticed one of the owners working in an area near me.
"How're you doing today Mrs. Greenhouse?" I politely inquired loudly because she is elderly and hard of hearing.
"I've been better," she quipped right back. "If it weren't for that old man I'm married to, I'd be great."
Since I wasn't quite expecting that answer I chuckled a little and was rewarded with an evil look.
"So sorry to hear that Mrs. Greenhouse. Is there anything I can do to help?" I know that was lame, but it was all I could think of when she was glaring at me from under her gigantic floppy sun hat.
"No, but thanks Sweetie." She seemed to softening up a bit when she said, "He's really not all that bad...most of the time."
Relieved to see her normal sweet little demeanor back I asked, "So how long have you and Mr. Greenhouse been married anyways?"
"66 years. And I'm 83. Got married instead of finishing school," she explained.
"Wow. That's incredible. I've only been married for 15 years. Do you have any advice after all those years?"
Without a pause she enlightened me with this, "Not really. Some days they are the light of your lives. Some days you just give in to make them happy. Some days you have to ignore them or you might just accidentally bash them in the head with the frying pan."
When I looked up at her she was smiling the biggest, most mischievous, gorgeous grin.
Then she winked at me, turned and began walking down the aisle her big hat flopping as she sauntered away.

I am smitten with her. I love that she has such a great sense of humor. I love that she feels she can say whatever comes to mind. I find myself wanting to go seek her out whenever I am cooking with a nice heavy frying pan.

Love Note to my Big Shooter: I promise never to accidentally bash you in the head with a frying pan...on purpose maybe, but never accidentally.

Thanks all for reading this little blog.

All three of you.

Crumb Snatcher #2 Speak

Over heard in a conversation with her brother:
"How many spars have I won? Well, let me think about that. Over my whole karate career I haven't lost one yet..."
Her karate career has been approximately 10ish weeks.

and

While in a conversation with me:
"I just love my sympathy card," referring to her neon pink cast with a loving glance. "It allows me to say things I normally wouldn't."

Love Note to my Big Shooter: Your daughter will treasure her Saturday Morning Manicures with you. You are doing all the good & right Daddy things to instill her with your love. My prayer is she finds someone just like you. "Are you listening God? I want her to marry her Daddy...just not in an Arkansas kinda way."

Drowned Rat a.k.a. FIL

The Beginning...



The Middle...



The End...

Now, before he starts whining about getting a little wet (insert very sarcastic snicker)...I did say to him beforehand, "Are you sure you want to go? ...you might get a little wet." In fact, while he was in line, I called him to suggest he leave his phone behind to stay dry.

I'd say that was a pretty fair warning.

Wouldn't you?

Love Note to my Big Shooter: I miss you. I really, really miss you and your company. Keep up the great strides in healing Big Guy. We can't wait until you're back to your normal self. Well, mostly normal self.

What?! It's not all about me?

See? See what I'm talkin' about? The previous post was suppose to be mostly about my little girl's plight. Instead it was all about me. How I handled it, or didn't handle it, how I felt, how I, I, I...
I didn't even say how she broke it.
Sorry Babycakes, Mommee is a Only-Child-Over-the-Top-Drama-Limelight-Whore. (Big Shooter thought that word was "over the top" itself. I asked him what other word described me in that situation...he didn't have one. Hmmm.)
Here's how she broke it:
While my sweet little one was walking my other sweet little one. He saw some deer and took off after them. Girl Child was convinced if she let go he'd keep running and we'd never see him again so she tried to keep up with him running up a bumpy, rocky hill. On her last step before reaching the smooth asphalt road she hit a rock and down she went.
Her knee is one big, nasty scab that is having a hard time healing b/c her mom is such a Good Mother and forgets it should probably stay dry for more than a few hours at a time. She had a big bruise under her left eye on her orbital bone. She had a cut lip. Her palms were pretty shredded and she broke both bones in her arm.
And did I mention she has a loser of a mom?
Thank God, literally, she has a Good Daddy.

A girl + her dog + a rock = a neon pink cast

Oh how she loves this dog!

He is her doll, her confidante, her companion, her friend and the cause of this..Kinda. In a round about way.

Our first morning at the lake with Grandpa Lyle (FIL) she and I were cuddling on the sofa watching the lake and reading. The BDP needed to go out and potty so out she went with him on a leash. The next thing I hear is her "Olliver Scream". When ever the beloved little beast some how manages to free himself of human control my Girl Child freaks. That is the only word I can use. You'd think she was having her toenails pulled off one by one when you hear it. I think she thinks he will just keep running and never look back. No matter how much try we cannot seem to make her understand he knows he's got it good and will never leave his Momma. Anyway, I being the oh so caring mother, slowly got up and went out on the deck to see what the problem was. She stopped screaming before I reached the door so when I stepped out there and didn't see anything I stood there and enjoyed the beauty for a minute or two before I realized I could still hear something. I couldn't place it. But it was not the Olliver Scream so I wasn't too concerned. After a few minutes the sound registered. Crying.

Oops.
I went to the front and found her standing in the driveway crying her little eyes out, blood dripping down her front. Now a normal woman would have been snapped right into Mommahood and dashed out to help her. Did I? Nope.

I don't think I'll ever even be in the running for the Last Place of Mother of the Year.

You see, she is my daughter through and through so I don't know if it's really that bad or Drama making all that racket.

My solution: Get her in the house, wake Daddy and let him decide. You know, he doesn't need any extra rest or stress-free living at this point of his life. He needs to get up at 6:30 AM to calm his offspring, clean-up and ascertain the injury. Right?

Poor guy. This is how my brain works when I know there is injury, skin trauma, blood involved. It just goes to mush. That's why I married him. He's awesome in emergencies.

While I sneak out of the room with the lame excuse of getting Band-Aids he takes a look see and pronounces a trip to the ER. Do I snap into Concerned Momma? Again, nope. Instead I ask, "Really? You think it's that bad?"

Good one Momma.

He nods and heads to get some clothes on.

He's transformed from Lone Kidney Man to Daddy instantly.

Boy Child and I get the car ready with pillows, blankets and ice packs and off they go into the sunrise...

Big Shooter calls a few hours later to tell me the news. "Yep, it's broke. Both bones. She needs to see an orthopedic surgeon in the next few days."

Mommahood? Nope.

I say, "Reeeally? A couple days? That will be Saturday and Sunday." Not, "Oh! I feel so horrible for her. Please let me speak to her so I can apologize for not being more loving and concerned." Nope. Worried about the weekend instead. Someone please remind me again why was I allowed to have these precious children?

Big Shooter is already on it. He informs me he already has an appointment with our pediatrician and they'll cast it there. Good Daddy. Bad Mommy.

He does find out though they don't cast breaks...they send you on to orthopedic surgeons. Which they did. After charging him for a visit.

Since they had several hours to kill between appointments he took her on a date. Lunch and a movie.

Good Daddy. Bad Mommy.

They had to set her bones while casting it. He was Good Daddy. Thank God cause I most definitely would have been Worse Mommy had I gone and tried to be Good Mommy to begin with.

They returned to the lake 11 hours and 50 minutes after they'd left.

My FIL told his son to "never do that to him again". He was referring to Big Shooter leaving him with me all the live long day. I am choosing to believe it was because I drove him crazy with my pacing and worried demeanor...

This is what Olliver and the rest of my family think of that...

Love Note to my Big Shooter: I am so very glad you are Mr. Safety. I am so glad you are always so calm. I am so glad you know what to do. I am so glad you are the Daddy.