Boo Mama’s Kick in the Pants


I’ve been wanting to redo my bedroom, well, pretty much since the last time I redid my bedroom.

Because 12 years is a long time to have the same decor.  
Oh, I kid.
11 years is a long time to have the same decor.
Anyhoo, Boo Mama, the HGTV loving woman that she is, has encouraged her internets to get busy with a little before/after project.
So, I have a little over a month to:
1. Get me some new furniture (which works out nice since I’ve been saving for just that).
2. Give all my old decor to Goodwill.
3. Add new bedding and hang up some of my old flea market finds.
Whew!  I’d better get busy!
See ya on July 25th!

I love ETSY – Awesome Giveaway!

*Update* Congratulations Storm!
I fall in love easily.   It was a bit of a problem as a teen.  
Until I met my hubby.
And then it seemed to be a good trait, for both of us.
It has proved to be a challenge when it comes to shopping.

I just discovered Etsy a couple of months ago.  I know.  Where have I been?

It was love at first click.
But I found it to be a bit overwhelming.
Until I found the pounce button.  Pounce divides the beautiful homemade Etsy products into two categories:  Just sold and Undiscovered.   And oh, when I have a spare minute or two.  I just pounce away.  
As Mother’s Day approached a few weeks ago, I was in a bit of a panic about my Mother’s gift.  (My mother-in-law got this beautiful bracelet and a biscuit cutter, remember?)  But my Mom?  Not so easy.  
I had one advantage to this huge shopping challenge:  she is a collector.
And so, I pounced. A lot.
I found this: Summerpoet Studio. She is a talented jewelry artist.  Her specialty?  Altered charm bracelets.  I found this enchanting bracelet of antique photos of girls and their dolls.  My mom is an avid doll collector.  
You cannot imagine my delight.  I bought it.  And then I clicked thru every bracelet SummerPoet had for sale.  Simply.  Amazing.  These pieces are so creative and if you need a gift?  The perfect solution.  She does beautiful custom work too.
Like this:  my Mother’s Day gift (thanks to my sweet hubby and kids).  She captured the glory of my kids in the blue bonnets:
And, she’d like to create a beautiful bracelet for one of my readers!  Oh, yes, it’s true!  Go over and visit Summerpoet Studio at Etsy.  Come back here, leave a comment (only one, please) about which bracelet you’d choose or the winner can send her photos and have a custom Mom’s bracelet made, like mine.
So, go now, I’ll wait here for you (because I’ve memorized everything in that store).  I can’t wait for you to see these amazing and creative works of art!
This giveaway will conclude at 10 pm Wednesday CST. The winner of this $60 bracelet will be announced soon after.

My Dear Google Searchers

(Google records who comes to your blog and how they find it thru the search engine. The results are often hilarious. *Update*  Read Shannon’s explanation for how to do this here.  It’s easy and fun and she explains it much better than I can!)  

Hello, sweet Google searchers.  I have been meaning to address you for weeks.   I’ve been watching you on my sight reader and I must say you have misunderstood me.  Because for some unknown reason, I have become an expert in these areas:

1.  Mopping the floor.  Now much to your surprise, I do not mop my floor often and I simply do not deserve the accolades as a proficient floor mopper.  The floor. Is. Sticky. Right. Now.  (That’s because the toddler is watching juice drip from her the cup she is shaking).  Many people have discovered this blog ‘o mine, by googling “overflowing the toilet to mop the bathroom floor.”  And while I have never actually tried this or blogged about it, I think it is an excellent idea and I may just have try it. Thank you.

2.  80’s Hair pictures. Well.  Who knew so many of you cared about the hair style of the 1980’s.  Apparently, I wasn’t the only victim of home perms resulting in afros.  I am sorry for your pain. We meet for therapy every Thursday.  Please join us.  We care.  And I’m sorry to the souls out there who found me by googling, “mother takes son for first perm pictures” and “forced perm”,  I feel your pain.  I really do
3. THAT family. I think we all fit into certain stereotypes.  I’ve learned that not only are we THAT family, we are also, “a style family” (thank you, truly), “a perming family” (you know how to wound), an “esl family” (I’ve learned much from Dora the Explorer), and a “real cruel family.” (Yes, some days.) And my favorite, “a godly family.” Not so many days, but we try.
 4.  Squirrels.  Yes, come here for your squirrel counseling.  We have a plethora of ideas on controlling their population, including, but not limited too, scaring them into accidental drowning. Oh, and by the way, you know who you are, No, I haven’t tried to “fry a squirrel.” Yet.
5.  Miscellaneous.  And finally, to those of you who were searching for answers and inadvertently found me, I hope you found peace with your a. profound itch  b. reckless driving  c. hairy arms  d. strangling each other  e.  being vomited on.
Oh, and to the soul out there in the blogosphere waiting with baited breath for this answer:
No, my hubby is not my twin.

The End.
P.S.  Come back for an awesome giveaway tomorrow!!

Update to My *Update*

1.  Many of you have asked about my recovery from my little medical procedure.  Well.  It’s gone well.  So well, that I’ve been hankering for another procedure.  Because all that attention was nice. Oh, I jest. I’ll know in a few weeks if the little job worked.  If it did, well, you will get entirely too many details.  Promise.  
2. I got to take a bath today for the first time in two weeks since the procedure.  Can we just have a moment of silence? My daughter was worried about me, because we all know, taking a shower is second-best.  I’m just saying.
3. Got half of the parenting books in the mail.  Started one on audio for the car line.  It’s giving me some perspective, ‘like hey, we’re doing okay.’  I’ve read 3 pages of another and it made me feel, ‘like hey, we’re not doing okay.’  Maybe I should read one at a time.

4.  My son is officially 6!  And I’m glad that I don’t have to plan another party until December!
We hit the bull’e eye with the Nerf Birthday party! 
It was a lot of fun and who knew we could make camo look so stylish?
5.  I shared this photo with you earlier this week in my pesky squirrel post.  Recap:  The squirrels were running amuck, scaring off the birds, trampling my flowers and dumping the
seed into my little garden.

In my pesky squirrel *update*, I told you I had come up with a solution to the squirrels trampling my flowers.
That’s going well.
But I am disturbed about a new problem.  Shocking, I know.
Today, when I went outside to water my flowers, this is what I saw:
Is it just me, or is it ironic that I cannot keep my flowers alive, but I can grow quite the birdseed crop?

A Noise with Dirt on It: My Son

Happy Birthday, my sweet six year old boy!
Today you asked me if I was sad that you were growing up.
“No, not sad.  I just think there are some things you won’t want to do anymore as you get older . . . “
“Like what?” you asked.
So, I told you.  
And you promised to always:
  • Crawl into my lap and let me sniff your neck, even when you are 6’1
  • Hug me at school in front of your cool friends
  • Tell me I’m prettier without makeup
  • Live with me forever (I may regret this one. . . )
  • Always be my little boy
Happy Birthday, honey.  I love you.
And …………………..
Later today at your Nerf party, I will be using one of these-
to get you!  Watch your back!
Down here in good ol’ Texas, we teach ’em young!
Yeah, we are THAT family!

Just Like Dad

. . . continuation from here . . .

We’ve laughed quite a bit about my son’s obvious interest in girly things. I thought it was completely normal, in an abnormal way.

He was born loving his big sister and looking up to her.

And I mentioned the pink, right?

Lots of pink.

We thought the Dora obsession was cute. She was a new TV character back then and it was precious hearing him walk around the house saying, “I did it!”

(I should add here that all good things come to an end. I don’t find Dora, her theme song, or her orange shirt, pink shorts and coordinating backpack precious anymore. Adios, Dora).

And dressing up in his sister’s princess stuff happens every day, right? DO NOT burst my bubble here, people.

But when my son asked for a pink Singer Sewing machine for Christmas last year, there was cause for concern.

“He’s five,” my hubby said.

“Well, he sees his sister’s sewing machine and he likes it,” I explained.

Now, don’t get me wrong, he liked boy things too. He just hadn’t found his little niche. He liked whatever his sister liked. And with his sister’s strong personality in the mix, he had few choices. It was her pink way or no way.

Well. We both drew the line. No pink sewing machine.

And then just like that–snap of the fingers–it happened.

We were on a family bike ride. I was pulling the baby in the bike trailer. My hubby led the pack with my daughter and son in the middle.

The breeze was blowing. The sun was shining. And that’s when it happened.

My hubby spit.

Life-changing I know. Stay with me.

I mean it was a clear-your-throat-over-the-shoulder SPIT. The kind that makes me shudder.

You could almost see the light bulb go off in my son’s brain:

He cleared his throat and spit–

Just like Dad.

It was beautiful. As much as spit can be, um, beautiful.

“Did you see that?” my hubby called, pride evident in his tone.

“I did,” I called. He could hear the smile in my voice.

And with that small gesture, a lot of things started happening. Boy things. Dirty, smelly, noise-making boy things. My heart is swelling, I’m sure.

My little guy can’t get enough of his Dad. He wants to be just like him.

He starts baseball next month. His idea.

When I hug him now, he smells like a stinky boy.  

Tomorrow, he turns six and he’s growing up. Too fast, for me.  
He’s excited about one thing:  he heard there’s lot of spitting in baseball.
Food for the Soul:
“As you do not know the path of the wind, or how the body is formed in a mother’s womb, so you cannot understand the work of God, the Maker of all things.”-Ecclesiastes 11:5

Sincerely ‘Fro Me to You- The Cross*Dresser

Welcome to this week’s Sincerely ‘Fro Me to You Carnival. If you want to join in, you can read the guidelines here
We have one son.
He is the only son we will have.
He is sandwiched between two sisters.

He is easy-going. He is sensitive and thinks of others.

Can you offer a moment of silence for him?
Thank you.

My hubby has some normal expectations of his son:

  • Don’t ever hit a girl
  • Your sisters are girls
  • Respect my wife
  • Your mom is my wife
  • Excel at sports. If this is not possible, be a rough and tumble boy and do not act like, well, your sisters.
I want to talk about that last one.

My boy is not athletic. It doesn’t come naturally to him. Let me just put it this way: his one experience on a soccer team?


He was there to give flowers to the the girls on the other team. He was scoring all right. I’m not even kidding.

In fairness to my son, he was born into the home of a demanding two year old sister who was in the height of pink, princess and pretty dress up.
He didn’t stand a chance.
I’ll never forget when he wore this:

and this

And can you blame him? Those are some pretty volcanic ensembles. I mean, it takes fashion sense to put those shoes together with that outfit.

My hubby was not too thrilled with my son’s interest.

Thankfully, he outgrew the phase and the outfits and moved on to Dora the Explorer.

He loved her. A lot. On his second birthday, she was on his cake and was near and dear to his heart.

She adorned his house shoes and his blankie.

He moved from Dora to the Disney Princess’.

Again, it was hard to blame him because they are hot. I’m just saying.

My hubby put his foot down when he asked for his own dress up box just like sisters. Santa delivered one stocked full of boy dress up clothes. Santa is nice, that way.

One question hung in the air, when will he be like Dad?
Aren’t boys supposed to emulate their fathers? My hubby may be many things, but a cross dresser isn’t one of them.

Just one more thing to be thankful for.

. . . To be continued tomorrow in celebration of my son’s 6th birthday this weekend. . .

And, now it’s your turn: