Insta Wednesday

Yeah, I know it's Thursday ... so sue me.

Leah begged me to swim in the pink plastic pool.  She made me do it, I tell ya.

We went to our sitter's son's first birthday party.  Luke is the little one in the pool; Audrey is in the pigtails, and Leah is the one whining ... even though she was happy to be there every other second.

Funny story ... Leah went up to two other boys at the party about her age who were outside playing with bubbles and footballs, and started twirling.  Then she asked them, "do you like my pretty dress?"

Yeah ... she's only 3.

Give them magnets and cook dinner in peace ... or not ...

All photos are taken from the Instagram iPhone app; yup I'm addicted.

Our Sunday

What do you do when you thought the library would surely be open after church except it actually opens at 2pm?

Listen to a sad child and figure out how to waste two hours.

What do you do when you visit the brand new used bookstore 2nd and Charles and they take your 2 Steve Berry books and offer you .70 or 1.70 store credit?

Take the store credit and decide you'd rather give your books away to friends for free.  Really I thought I'd get enough credit to at least buy another book.  Oh, and then we took books from the free bin in the front.

What do you do when you were going to visit a friend who was close while waiting for the library, but the friend's dog poops in the pin and she has to bathe him?

Remember you have a full thing of bubbles in the glove compartment and go to the nearest park and sweat out the heat.

What do you do when you finally get to the library?

Collapse in a chair while the kids play.  I now wish I had a picture of them playing.

What do you do when you find out the cute pictures you took at the park have no way of getting onto the computer?

Pout.  I can't find my computer cord and the SD drive seems to be broken ( I blame a kid).  Even my phone won't take good pictures of pictures.

What do you do when all this happens?

Complain on your blog!

Really though, we had a great day.  Funniest story ... (Audrey current diapers have not been sticking well) We are at the library and I look over at Audrey and her diaper is on the ground next to her.  I had to run over to her, pick her and the (thankfully clean) diaper up and run the bathroom.

Free Your Mind pt.1

I am loving getting involved in the Indie Ink challenge, not just for the creative boost but also to find more people to stalk follow.  This week I'm challenging Lizzie from Count the Years, and when I went to her blog I loved the Free Your Mind questions she just started.

So, I'm going to copy her!  I hope to post these on Saturdays and I'm splitting up the 50 questions into 5's so it will take me 10 weeks to finish the questionnaire.

Free Your Mind pt. 1

How old would you be if you didn’t know how old you are?I would probably be in my mid thirties.  I always feel older than I am at 26 with two kids, although I do act the extremes quite often.  Sometimes I describe myself as 26 going on 70, which would be when I look down on the clothes kids are wearing 'these days' or say 'bless your heart' to describe someone.  I can also forget everything around me and act like I'm 3, like when I taught Leah how to shoot straw papers at people and played along with her.

Which is worse, failing or never trying?Wow, this is a really hard question for me to answer.  I am an odd type of perfectionist; the type that's afraid to even try something for fear that it won't be perfect and I will fail.  So I don't try.  I guess not trying is worse because the place I am in my life is trying to conquer my fear of failing and try.

If life is so short, why do we do so many things we don’t like and like so many things we don’t do?Eh, if we did more of the things we like whose to say we will start not liking them as well?  It's all about moderation.  (please tell that to my eating skills)

When it’s all said and done, will you have said more than you’ve done?Um, I think this goes back to two questions ago.  Right now I am a queen at the 'half finished' or 'half thought out' projects.  I hope when I die I will have done more that I've said.

What is the one thing you’d most like to change about the world?I think I have to say judgement, but I also would like to change the youth (here's the 70 year old in me).  I think kids are being raised now in an entitlement fashion where they just believe they should have all that they wish for. Kids aren't being forced to work for rewards and such are more likely to not work as hard when they grow up.  And because of this some rely more on government, others on parents, when really they should just roll up their shirt sleeves, do something they may not want to do, so no to some things they want and provide and support themselves.

Balancing Cards

This is my first week participating in the II Writing Challenge.  Michael challenged me to write a story about balance.  I challenged Heather to write about her last ten minutes.  Check them out too!

He tried one more time to get it to work.  He held his breath, stood on one foot and leaned a bit toward the left while placing that last card onto the pile.  The second his fingertips released, it all came tumbling down into a pile of numbers and faces.

He just could not make the house of cards work.  Last summer he taught himself how to make miniature card houses.  They were fun then, but miniature houses were last summer’s feat.  This summer he was going to use all 52 cards to make a house bigger than he was.

Sighing, he picked up every card tumbled onto the ground.  ‘Always try again,’ was his mom’s mantra, ‘and the next time; do it with a smile,’ she always finished with a quick hug. 

His favorite pictures of his dad were the ones of him standing next to his house of cards.  His grandma recalled his dad being about his age when he accomplished his first full house of cards.  People were always telling him he was just like his dad, but he dared to believe them until his house was finished.

He could hear his Grandma telling her stories while he straightened the cards and started again at the bottom.  She told stories of his dad filled with adventures, struggles, school days, magic tricks and houses of cards.  Without the stories he barely remembered his dad, just a smile every now and then, maybe a familiar sent, but he was so young then.

So last summer his Grandma helped him get started building the houses.   Whenever he came in here, he felt close to his dad, in his presence, perhaps as if he was sitting here helping him.

He was at the top again.  He held the precious card lightly between his fingertips, stood firmly on two fit, squeezed his eyes shut and smiled.  The final card left and balanced perfectly completing his house of cards.

“Mom!” his gleeful cries filled the house.  He gave an excited jump just a couple of inches off the ground, but enough for the cards to come tumbling down once again.

He ran out of the room leaving the cards littered on the ground, happier just having the knowledge that he could balance a house of cards, just like his dad.

Insta Wednesday

It's like wordless wednesday; only more insta {taken with the iPhone app Instagram}

insta Summer fun with our new sprinkler

Insta beautiful smiles (and eyelashes)

Insta cuddle time

Insta reminder

(This is painted over Hwy 31 in Birmingham Alabama.  It was originally painted last November over Red Mountain Expressway, my pic.  I'm glad they brought it back.  It makes me smile.)

Insta love

the last picture of Audrey and Andrew is entered into Simplicity's photo challenge with the theme cell phone pictures

Linked with:

Camp Songs

The day started with parents dropping off giddy children in a church parking lot and quickly overseeing their ascend onto the idle school bus.  The excited children ran aboard because this bus wasn’t going to school, but rather to summer camp.

Kids filed into seats two by two and chatter filled the bus until a counselor stood up to take control.

“Ok everyone,” she said with authority, “let’s sing a camp song!  Repeat after me.  Oh, you can’t get to heaven.”

“Oh, you can’t get to heaven,” some children called back.

“On roller skates,” “on roller skates,” the call and respond continued. “Cause you’ll roll right past / roll right past; Those pearly gates / those pearly gates.”

Everyone combined in unison for the last part of the verse.

“Oh, you can’t get to heaven in roller skates, cause you’ll roll right past those pearly gates. Ain’t gonna see the Lord no more.”

The newer kids caught onto the song as more voices joined in the second verse.

“Oh you can’t get to heaven / you can’t get to heaven;

In dirty jeans / in dirty jeans;

Cause heaven ain’t got / heaven ain’t got;

No washin’ machine / no washin’ machine;

Oh you can’t get to heaven in dirty jean cause heaven ain’t got no washin’ machine.  Ain’t gonna see the Lord no more.”

The verses went on, and as the end of the song drew near kids sang louder waiting for those favorite last two verses.

“Oh you can’t get to heaven / you can’t get to heaven;

With an orange kite / with an orange kite;

Cause God’s favorite colors / God’s favorite colors;

Are …”

I stopped singing too boo as loud as I could.

“Oh you can’t get to heaven with an orange kite cause God’s favorite colors are red and white.  Ain’t gonna see the Lord no more.”

“Oh you can’t get to heaven / you can’t get to heaven;

In a red canoe / in a red canoe;

Cause God’s favorite colors / God’s favorite colors;

Are orange and blue / ORANGE AND BLUE;”

We screamed to drown out the boos.

“Oh you can’t get to heaven in a red canoe cause God’s favorite colors are ORANGE AND BLUE.  Ain’t gonna see the Lord no more.”

The kids clapped and cheered, booed and jested, and sang more on the way to summer camp.

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This story was prompted by remembeRED 'what do you rememeber from childhood by heart'. 

If you didn't have the pleasure of growing up in Alabama, I'll explain a bit.

Red + White = University of Alabama

Orange + Blue = Auburn University

When you meet someone in Alabama, your convo goes something like this:

• What's your name?
• What church do you go to?  Wanna come to mine?
• Alabama or Auburn?

Stalker

we heart it

I am a self-proclaimed stalker; when it comes to the internet and blogs and such ... no I don't follow people around and spy over fences, but when it comes to blogs mainly I seem to stalk more than I comment.

It's not that I don't like the post or picture or person; I just have annoyances when it comes to commenting sometimes.

1. 'LOL' comments:

When I read something that is funny, but I don't really have any way to relate to it and I don't really have any similar story; I feel really dumb to click on the link only to say 'lol' or 'that's so funny'.  Duh, they knew it was funny when they typed it.

2. Un-personal comments:

I hate un-personal comments, you know the ones that look like they could have been copied and pasted even when they aren't.  These are bad when I'm browsing through picture posts, and I hate leaving comments that say 'that's a cool/awesome/fun picture'.  Oh, and also why I no longer participate in those 'hi, i stopped here now come see me and lets be friends' blog hops.

3.  I don't have anything to say:

Sometimes I read wonderful posts, and I just don't have anything to add.  So I don't even try.

4.  I'm lazy:

So the truth comes out too ... I mean to comment I'd have to click out of my reader, fight with this stupid work computer to not block 'personal sites', skim the article to remember what I wanted to write in the first place and then type it.  That's more work than just clicking on the next title.

Stalking does have it's downfalls.  I probably don't have as many readers as I could, and I don't expect as many comments, but that's cool with me.  I'm cool with people finding their way over here and now and again.  I need this to be a place more for me anyways.

But know, just because you don't see me popping up in your email doesn't mean I don't know what you did last weekend, your favorite movie and your dog's middle name.