Cupcake Anxiety, a Singing Nun, and a Deer Head Dance (7QT)

Doing what I usually do on Fridays:


I’m in charge of making the sweet treat for Miss’s Halloween party at school next week. Right now I am both loving and hating Pinterest. I think I’m using a recipe for pumpkin cupcakes and adding chocolate chips. The frosting will be pumpkin cream cheese and I’ll put orange sprinkles on top. I’m hoping they’ll look something like this:

Of course, they’re not really going to end up looking anything like that. And I have spent waaaayyy too much time thinking about this. But the kids will have cupcakes.


The last time I tried to make something from scratch for a school party was when Miss was still in preschool outside the home, and I tried to make paleo brownies for her to take for her birthday. I baked them after putting the girls to bed, and thank goodness I tasted one before taking them to her school. They were disgusting. Truly. I threw them away and made an emergency late-night trip to the grocery store to get some pre-made cupcakes from the bakery.

This time I’ll bake the cupcakes early enough in the day that I can test one and have some time to consider decent replacement options if these are awful.

Baking isn’t one of my talents, so I must always prepare for the worst.


On Wednesday I got pulled over. I was going 69 MPH in a 55 MPH zone. the officer took my license, went back to his car, and came back a few minutes later saying, “You have a great record, so I’m giving you a warning.”

IMG_3804I barely managed to keep my jaw from dropping.

I don’t know whose driving record he was looking at, but if it was “great,” it wasn’t mine. Or maybe he could only see the past year or two. It has been over two years since my last ticket. . .

I’m kind of a lead foot.


Our house has walls. And rooms.


See that big window right in the front? That’s where my school room is going to be.

IMG_3785 IMG_3790Can you picture it? Little desks and tons of books and art projects everywhere and storage, storage, storage. I can’t wait.


When I was a tween (though no one used that word then), I loved Madonna. My Mom wouldn’t buy me the tape of her music (I think she called M a “tart”), but I recorded the songs off the radio and sang and danced to them with abandon. Borderline, Material Girl, Crazy for You, Like a Virgin. . .

Okay, I still dance and sing to them with abandon.

Yesterday I came across a video. Some people might find it weird, but I just think it’s awesome. It’s a nun. Singing “Like a Virgin.” (I think it’s the nun who won some singing show in Italy).

Her performance is incredible, and it gives the song a whole new meaning. Don’t just listen. Watch her sing it.

It gave me chills. As someone who spent nearly a decade as an atheist, this video really struck a chord with me. I’ll never hear that song the same way again. And that’s not a bad thing.


Today was lovely. Days like this are why fall is my favorite season.


They were trying to catch leaves in their hats as they fell from the trees. They weren’t too successful, but it sure was fun to watch them try.

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Each time she fell she’d look up and me and say, deadpan, “A little help here.”


Hunting season is upon us. After watching my husband practice shooting his bow, Miss asked to get hers out too (my Dad gave it to her).

She practiced for at least 30 minutes, and went from needing lots of assistance and correction to being able to nock, draw, aim, and shoot the arrow herself, often placing it in the target.

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Lass took a short turn with the bow when Miss was done. Both the girls said they wanted to go out and hunt with my husband, to which he replied that they could (hunt = watch deer). This quickly resulted a dance and song that went something like this, “We’re gonna put a deer head on the waaaall,” over and over and over.

Deer dance

I hope you had a lovely Friday too.

Catch the rest of the Quick Takes at Conversion Diary.

Living on a Prayer

I overheard some interesting comments from my girls today while pushing my two youngers on the swings as Miss swung  by herself on the glider.


Lass (to Miss): “You’re doing that all by yourself. You can teach me how to swing by myself too.”

Miss: “Yeah. I’ll teach you. I’m a good teacher. I can be your mommy.”

Lass: “Yeah! You can be my mommy!”

Me: “Hey, wait. I’m your mommy.”

Lass: “No, no, no. I mean after you die.”

Oh. Well, that makes me feel better.


I have to admit though, I can’t blame them for fantasizing about another mommy a little bit. The past week or so I have been so tired and so crabby. I can’t even stand myself when I act like a jerk to my kids for much of the day, so I can understand if they might think an alternative would be enjoyable from time to time.


I’m sure that being tired in itself has contributed to my yucky attitude, but it’s a bit more than that too, I think.

Usually I wake up at 5:30 in the morning and spend some time praying and reading the Bible. It’s a wonderful way to get my mind and my heart right for the rest of the day. But lately I’ve been so tired, I haven’t wanted to get up early and I’ve been missing out on my usual prayer time. I’ve been trying to squeeze it in at other times, but that is never quite as fulfilling, and some days I’ve even missed it all together. This is not a good thing.

I was so disgusted with myself last night after a few days of just being a grouch, that I vowed to get up early and start my day right. So I did. I didn’t quite make it out of bed at 5:30, but I was downstairs saying my prayers by a few minutes after 6. And it made all the difference. I got some good Jesus time to start my day, and then I had an awesome day with my kids. DSC_0155

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An amazing thing I’ve learned in the past year and a half is that when I feel like a crappy mom, when I’m grumpy and acting like a jerk, when I’m impatient and snappish, I now have an incredible solution. I used to beat myself up and flounder through my difficulties and eventually give myself a pep talk and feel better. Now I know that I can just turn to prayer and pretty quickly get myself back on track. Seriously, it works.

When I’m drowning and feeling like I can’t do anything right, I turn my face to God and say, “Help me!” And He does.

When I’m having a wonderful day and feel like I’m Super Mom and all is going just right, I turn my face to God and say, “Thank you!”


Today, I said, “Thank you!”

7 Quick Takes – Happy 4th of July!


I’ve been practicing singing my songs for the Labor Day party. All the songs are on a playlist in my phone, and I usually play them and sing along in the car. The girls really enjoy most of the music. I’ve had some interesting questions from Miss about some of the songs. For example:

Little Willy – “Mom, why won’t Willy go?” (lyrics, “‘Cause Little Willy Willy won’t, go home. But you can’t push Willy ’round, Willy won’t go“)

You Be Illin’ – “Who’s Ellen?”

500 Miles – “Mom, is he really going to do that?” (lyrics, “But I would walk 500 miles, and I would walk 500 more.

That’s Not My Name – “Why are they calling her that stuff?” (lyrics, “They call me ‘hell’ They call me ‘Stacey’ They call me ‘her’ They call me ‘Jane’ That’s not my name. . .“) and “Did that really happen?”

And my favorite/most awkward of the questions:

Sweet Dreams (by The Eurythmics)- “Mom, why does someone want to be abused?”


Speaking of Miss, I was feeling such warm fuzzies the other day when I heard her and Sis playing together. Miss was pretending to be Sis’s mommy, and was saying such sweet, loving things to her. I was just about to pat myself on the back for obviously providing such a beautiful model of motherhood when I heard, “It’s bedtime. You need to stay in bed. You. stay. in. bed. Go to sleep! Now stay. asleep. Stay asleep! STAY ASLEEP!!”


Things devolved from there and the “Mommy” ended up chasing the “baby,” yelling, “Get in bed! It’s time for bed!!

Ahem. She might have heard me say something like that before.


I just love this photo:


Lass woke up extra early one morning and my husband sat and perused this huge animal book with her before he had to get ready for work. They were playing a game that seemed to only make sense to the two of them. Love.


I am not always quite so engaging when one of the girls wakes up super early with me. Jake and the Neverland Pirates? Yes, please.



A friend texted me yesterday to invite me to the 4th of July parade today. I had no idea there was a 4th of July parade in our town. Seems logical that there would be, now that I think about it, but it had never occurred to me. I’m so glad we went.

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The parade was lots of fun for all of us, but my natural suspicion and defensiveness sort of put a bit of a damper on it for me. Early on in the the parade, a man came and stood directly behind my stroller, which I had pulled right up to the curb so Sis could see when she was sitting in it.


We had our sit’n’stand and my purse was sitting on the back seat. The man was disheveled and dirty, and he was totally in my personal space, so my mind immediately went to protection mode. I made sure I was between him and my kids at all times, and I nonchalantly moved my purse to the ground in front of the stroller after rummaging around in it for some chapstick (I didn’t want to be too obvious). I didn’t quite go so far as to plan out in my mind just what self-defense moves I would use on him if necessary (apparently he wasn’t quite as threatening as the young girl who walked next to my car while in the Starbucks drive through line), but I did keep my eye on him the whole time.


We had some friends over for a cookout tonight (same friends we went to the parade with). The girls had so much fun and they did sparklers of the first time. Two of my three girls were not scared at all. One was a bit nervous at first.

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My big girl sometimes just needs a minute to observe. She eventually overcame her fear.

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The grand finale:

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It was a great day, full of fun and friends. I can hear everyone else just getting started with the fireworks outside, and I’m ready for bed 🙂 Happy 4th of July!

See more quick takes at Conversion Diary.

So Um, This is the Bible…

I have started trying to incorporate some religion into our homeschool lessons.

I have to laugh a bit at myself as I think about it, because it’s been a little awkward so far.

I end up saying things like, “So while we’re talking about the letter Z, let’s learn about St. Zita! Okay, soooo she was a saint. And um, a saint is someone who’s, well uh, really holy, and, um dead. And so, you can ask a saint to pray for you. So yeah, St. Zita!” And then I read something to them from a book or our new curriculum supplement from Catholic Icing that allows me to actually sound as though I know what I’m talking about for a minute. But I pretty much don’t.

I am totally learning all of this stuff with my kids as I teach them. But I’m cool with that. I kind of like learning through teaching. I’ve been doing it all along anyway. I learned a ton of stuff about groundhogs when we did letter G, and about horses when we did letter H.

Our new curriculum helps me to add some religious teaching to what we’ve already been doing, keeping with the letter we’re working on and adding some other things.

We just did our first Catholic craft. Presenting, St Zita:


I am so proud (the idea for this also came from Catholic Icing, I just used some different materials).

I’ve been having a lot of fun with this new aspect of our school. Even when I know I’m stuttering and fumbling awkwardly to describe something that I don’t fully understand myself, I’m enjoying the process. And the girls don’t seem to notice my stumbles, or care. I’ve even discussed with them how I’m learning lots of these things right along with them. Miss was very understanding. She said, “That’s okay Mama. I’m just a kid and I really have a lot to learn, so you know more than me.” At least she thinks so.


The Bible is another topic I’m kind of faltering through with them. Each lesson from the curriculum has a Bible verse that goes with the letter we’re doing. So today I even took my Bible (which I just bought a week ago) into our school room and read and “discussed” a verse with them.

It went something like this:

Me: “So this is the Bible. It’s the book that, uh, tells us lots of important stuff that God wants us to know.”

Them: Blinking.

Me: “And so the Bible is full of um, well look at all these words in here (fanning pages). This is a really big book!”

Them: Leaning in to look at pages. They seemed interested!

Me: “And this, um, tells us how God wants us to act and lots of other things. And there are different books in here, see this is the book of Wisdom… Huh. There’s a book of Wisdom?  I didn’t know that. Okay so then here’s Proverbs, and here’s Psalms. Yeah. And the verse we’re reading today is from Psalms… Let’s see Psalm 97:8, ‘Zion,’ oh, what letter does that start with?”

Them: “Z!”

Me: “Yes! Okay, ‘Zion hears and is glad, and the daughters of Judah rejoice because of your judgements, O Lord.'” (In my head, “crap, what does that mean?”)

Them: Blinking. Smiling. Waiting.

Me: “Right, so um, that means that, uh, the people in Zion were happy. Uh huh. Because of what God said.”

They were content with that. Thankfully, though they actually did seem to be listening (which usually means 1000 inquiries), they didn’t ask me any questions about my oh-so-vague first Bible lesson. Thanks God.

What was learned:

For them: 1. Zita starts with Z; 2. That Bible is a big book!

For me: 1. I have a lot to learn; 2. Read Bible verse and figure out what the heck it means ahead of time.

So there you have it. The baby-steps implementation of religion into our homeschool.


I’ve also been talking with the girls to try to help them understand the idea of Baptism, since theirs is coming up (one month from today!). I was botching that one too, so I got a few books to help me out and I have a few craft ideas as well. My husband and I have a class to attend tomorrow night about their Baptism, so hopefully I’ll be better equipped to discuss it with them after that.

So much to learn…


“Check Out This Scene!”

The other day I heard Miss exclaim, “Mama! Look at this scene! It’s kind of awesome. Can you take a picture of it?”

So I did.


I took several.

I’m not sure what was going on in this “scene.” I think maybe I heard them say that some of the animals were getting married. Miss had arranged things very carefully, and she checked my photos to make sure I was capturing everything to her satisfaction.


I think I fall a bit short on wedding photography skills.


Naturally Lass wanted me to take a few photos of her “scene” as well.

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(That’s another pony under all the ribbons)

These girls just make me laugh.


I love listening to them talk when they are pretending.

The imagination of a preschooler is wondrous to behold.



I Want to Save My Allowance For…

My older girls get a few dollars for an allowance each week.

They have never been too bad about asking me to buy them tons of toys or other things, but since implementing weekly allowance some time back, whenever they have asked I would say, “You’ll just have to save your allowance if you want to get that…”

This has worked out very well for the most part. We count their money every week. They understand the concept of saving. They no longer ask me to buy them anything.


In the past month or so they have taken to saying, about a thousand times a day, “Mama, I want to save my allowance for…”

Any time they see something in which they are even slightly interested.

“Mama, I want to save my allowance for a toy turtle.”

“Mama, I want to save my allowance for a toy big Tiana.”


“Mama, I want to save my allowance for a toy crappie.”

“A wildebeest.”

“A wart hog.”

“A cape buffalo and all the other kinds of buffalo.”


When we’re playing the “Cat in the Hat I Can Do That” game?

Miss: “I want to save my allowance for a toy fan” (one of the game pieces).

Me: “Honey, that is a toy fan!”

Miss: “No, I want to save my allowance for a real toy fan.”

Me: Blinking. Blank stare. “Okay.”


They now comment about wanting to save their allowances for things much, much more frequently than they ever used to ask me to buy them things.


“Mama, I want to save my allowance for a toy fountain.”

This one came up multiple times yesterday at the splash pad.

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And this morning?

“Mama, I want to save my allowance for a toy Baby Sis.”


It’s gotten a little out of hand.

I love that they think about wanting to save for things. And I love that they have actually saved for weeks and weeks for some things that they wanted very badly that were a bit more expensive. And I love that we have started a “Giving Jar” where they put $1 of their allowance each week to give to a charity of their choosing when the jar is full.

But man.

When we went to the fireworks last week both girls talked the whole time.

“Mama! I want to save my allowance for a toy firework like that one!”


“Oooo! Mama! Mama! I want to save my allowance for a toy firework like that one!”


“A blue one!” “A red one!” “A big one that twinkles and falls down like that!”

And on, and on, and on. The. whole. time.


I get a little freaked out about this sometimes and think, “Oh no!!! My children are falling victim to our overly commercialized society! They are becoming hyper materialistic! They want EVERYTHING! I have failed as a mother!!”

Then I take a deep breath and remember, they aren’t asking me for the fancy Barbie doll they just saw on a TV commercial. They don’t even watch TV commercials.

They don’t ask me for the latest and greatest toys that all the kids are getting. They don’t have the slightest idea what the latest and greatest toys are.

They don’t throw fits (usually) when we walk past, or even down, the toy aisles at Target or any other store. They just say they want to save their allowance for it if they see something they like. **

Most of the time they’re saying,

“I want to save my allowance for a toy butterfly” when they see one outside.


“I want to save my allowance for a toy chicken nugget” when I make them for dinner.


When we read books they constantly interrupt me to tell me they want to save for something (many things) in a book.

I have had to set a limit with this one.

As a general rule, I not fond of being interrupted when I’m reading stories to them, but I usually don’t mind too much when they are asking questions about a story or pointing out something interesting that is happening. I suppress my occasional urge to say something like, “Hey. I’m reading here. I’m in character and everything. Why are you talking?”

But the allowance thing is just too much. So I made a rule that they may not interrupt a story for allowance comments. They don’t follow it. I’m working on it.


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Miss has been saying that she wants to save her allowance for a tiny baby doll like Sis’s.

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They have these little dolls at Target for about $3, so I told Miss the next time we went to Target she could bring her allowance and get one if she wanted.

Today we went to Target to get some storage boxes for our new art shelf (oh my gosh, I love my new art shelf!). Both older girls brought their change purses. Lass said she wanted a pony. Miss said she wanted a baby doll with long brown hair.

Lass got a My Little Pony that she could decorate with stickers and markers.


Miss got…


a My Little Pony that she could decorate with stickers and markers. She just couldn’t resist it when she saw her sister getting one.

I walked her past all of the other things she had said she wanted. The baby dolls with brown hair. The tiny baby dolls like Sis’s. The big Tiana dolls.

She stuck to her guns and bought the My Little Pony. Both girls depleted their allowance stashes.

They have been saving for many weeks, saying they wanted to buy tons of things, but not actually buying anything and not really even pushing to buy anything.

I got to thinking about this.

Then this evening while I was cooking dinner and The Daddy had the girls outside, Miss came to the door repeatedly bearing various items and saying she wanted to save her allowance for something like them.

“A hydrangea.”

“A hydrangea leaf.”

“A leaf like this one too.”

Finally it clicked. They don’t really want to save their allowance money for any of these things. Or at least that’s not the main reason they’re telling me they do.

They’re just telling me how much they like these things or how interesting they are.


So the next time Miss came to the door with, “Mama, I want to save my allowance for a purple flower like this one,” I said, “Wow, you really like that flower don’t you?”


She blinked at me and nodded and then said, “Why did you ask if I really like that flower?”

I said, “Because you said you wanted to save your allowance for it. Do you really like it?”

She smiled big and nodded with a shy, “Yes, I do.”

I guess I’ll have to revisit my rule about the allowance comments during stories.


** I have to add that even if my kids did beg for fancy Barbies or other toys or throw fits in the toy aisle, that would not in any way make me a failure as a mother (nor does it make anyone else one). I recall begging and begging for a Cabbage Patch doll, and Barbies, and all sorts of other stuff I imagine. All kids do it, and I’m sure mine will too when they get old enough to know what the “hot” toys are. But my thought process is what it is. Sometimes it just doesn’t take much for me to briefly freak out about having failed my kids in some way or another. Middle finger to you, “Mom Guilt.”

Speaking of Awkward… A Word About Tattoos

You might have noticed when I posted the following photo in last Friday’s post that I have a tattoo.


I actually have two.

The one pictured above was done in the summer of 1995 (I was 19). The other was the summer of 2000.

In choosing the places to get tattooed, both times I selected spots on my body where I could easily cover the tattoo if necessary in pretty much any type of outfit (shorts, tank top, etc), but where it might be shown occasionally, like when wearing a bathing suit. Seemed like a good way to do it.

The second tattoo fits these criteria also. It’s on my lower back.

Might I make note of the fact that the second tattoo was done five years before the movie “Wedding Crashers” was released, in which the term “tramp stamp” was coined to refer to a tattoo appearing on a woman’s lower back? (at least I think that’s where the term comes from, I never heard it before seeing that movie).

Now that I’m in my, uh, late 30s, my tattoos seem less awesome than they did when I first got them.

I still kind of like the one on my leg. At least I don’t hate it. It’s just three little footprints. I’m sort of indifferent to it.

But the one on my back has got. to. go. I have some serious tattoo regret about that one. Two yellow roses with stems twisted together. Gag. What was I thinking? And the “tramp stamp” joke? While it isn’t the reason I regret the tat, it certainly doesn’t help matters.

Someday I will have the back tattoo removed. Possibly the leg tat too.

Now, on to the awkward part.

My kids, naturally have seen my tattoos.

Naturally they ask me what they are. I tell them. Then, naturally they ask why I got those tattoos. Good question kids.

My response thus far has been, “Well, Mommy made a bad choice to get those tattoos.” And then of course they ask why it was a bad choice, and I explain because I was much younger when I chose to get them, and now I no longer want the tattoos but they don’t come off, so I have to go to the doctor someday to get them off. Thus, bad choice.

I always thought that was a pretty good response. I like to teach my kids about making choices and dealing with the results. I try not to shy away from allowing them to see examples of choices I have made, good and bad. So, explaining it the way I have done seemed appropriate. I might even say it seemed quite clever.

But then. Oh, the thing I did not foresee. The consequence I didn’t plan on. My kids sometimes see other people with tattoos!!!

I’ll give you one guess what they say.

“Mommy, why did that lady and you make a bad choice?” In front of the other mom at the local coffee shop/play area, who fortunately didn’t seem to notice my child was staring and pointing at her.

“Mommy, why did Miss B and you make a bad choice?” In front of the staff member at the YMCA’s drop-in childcare, who did notice and asked me what the question meant, at which point I mumbled something about not liking the tattoo on my back as I dragged my kids away.

Now that the weather is warming up and people are baring their skin, and their ink, more and more, this is becoming a bit of a problem.

Guess I’m not as clever as I thought.


Quirks and Updates

One of the most fun things about having kids is watching their little personalities emerge.

I have yet to see how Baby Sis’s personality will develop, but she is already showing that she’s content, and cuddly, and funny.  DSC_0492

Her older sisters are so different from each other.

Most of the time, Miss is my serious girl. She’s very intense and somewhat perfectionistic. She wants things just so, and can get very upset when things don’t happen the way she envisions them. She is stubborn and persistent and smart and funny. She enjoys school time and loves art and music. She’s not a big snuggler, though when she is in the mood, she can give the best hugs anywhere. Today she climbed up in my rocker with me while I was rocking Sis, and she just kissed and hugged her baby sister over and over. It was precious to watch them love on each other.

Lass on the other hand is a bit more of a free spirit. She isn’t terribly particular about most things. She’s more of a pleaser, both with my husband and me, and with her big sister. She is quite sensitive, and when she’s scolded, she often begins to cry and says, “You hurt my feelings!” She is my snuggly, lovey girl. She gives lots of spontaneous hugs and kisses. At least once a day she walks up to me, gives me a sweet little hug, and says, “I love you Mommy.” She cries when my husband leaves for work, saying, “But I love my Daddy! I don’t want you to go Daddy.” She yanks on my heartstrings all day long, that girl does.


My big girls have their funny quirks too.

Though I just described Lass as the free spirited girl who isn’t particular about things and Miss as my perfectionist, when it comes to their bedrooms, they are totally the opposite.

Lass is super picky about her bedroom when she goes to bed. She doesn’t take any toys to bed with her and she will not go to bed if her toys are not on her bookshelf in a certain way, if her Froggy isn’t sitting correctly in her chair, and if there is anything out of place on her floor.

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Miss on the other hand is a total slob in her room. She goes to bed with at least half of her bed covered with various toys and books.

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She often leaves toys all over her floor. I have to prompt her regularly to pick them up and put them where they belong. And she isn’t too particular about how her things get put away.


They are so different, but they are the best of friends. And Sis is playing with them more and more.


Much of the time during the day I stay near them and secretly watch and listen to them play together.

They are so imaginative. They seem so in sync as they make up games and stories together. They are so chatty with each other. They each have funny ways they pronounce words, which never fail to make me smile.

Miss says, “lasterday” instead of “yesterday,” “with-about” instead of “without,” and “breakthist” instead of “breakfast.” She is starting now to begin pronouncing these words correctly sometimes, and it makes me kind of sad. I love “lasterday.”

Lass has a hard time with some letter sounds and combinations of letters, as is common for her age of course. She can’t quite pronounce her “Rs” and “Ls” and has difficulty with the “SK” sound combination. So the word “squirrel” comes out sounding like “swoyo” and “scared” is “swared.” Like her sister, she is already starting to correct these mispronunciations on her own.

Baby Sis is starting to talk too. She signs “all done” and “milk,” and also uses the “milk” sign to mean “more.” She says “Meh-Meh” for milk, “Da-Da,” and “Mama.” She often tries to imitate other words we say. And the biggest news about my littlest girl is that she is walking!

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And falling.


But walking!! Such a big girl.

One of the reasons I write this blog is to record the moments of my girls’ lives and their milestones and quirks. The funny little things they do and say. I don’t ever want to forget “lasterday” and “swoyo” and Sis signing “milk” for “more.”

I think one of my most important duties as a mom is keeping record of my girls’ moments. Our family. Our history.

These things make up my life. They form my happy place.




Move Over Katniss

This girl is fierce.

She has always been into shooting the bow with her Daddy. Now, thanks to a friend of my Dad’s who thoughtfully made this little bow for her, she has one of her own.

Watch out world.

From the bow to the camo pants, Miss is her Daddy’s girl, through and through.

I think this one is going to be able to take care of herself.

Both of my older girls had fun tonight hunting the “bear” – Grandpa – while he was cooking dinner.

Daddy provided instruction.

Lass was a bit less ferocious about it.

In fact, when the girls decided that I was another bear and began to “shoot” at me, Lass seemed a bit uncomfortable with my feigned injury at being shot with an arrow.

While her sister walked up and pretended to yank the arrow out of my belly, Lass said, “It’s okay Bear, it’s a good owie” and “Don’t worry Bear, I kiss you owie. Now you all bettah.”

It’s hard to predict, but my middle girl might be a little bit less interested in hunting with her Dad in years to come.



Dressing Up, Kentucky Style

You’ve seen lots of posts showing my girls’ dress up adventures recently.  They’re really into it.  They’re just like their Mama in that way.  I’ve also posted recently about the dearth of dress up items in my Mom’s closet when I was growing up.  She came through with a few fun things for the girls yesterday though.  Check out this hat.
It was made, of course, by my Grandma.
Lass loved it.
The girls loved seeing their Grandma try on this clown costume, also made by my Grandma.  It is actually a full clown costume with a baggy one piece suit that has big buttons down the front.  But I’m not sharing that photo.
When I wrote about my Mom’s dress-up-lacking closet recently in this post, I mentioned the one item she did have that I loved to dress up in – the beautiful silver shoes.  I forgot about the beautiful silver purse that went with those shoes.  My Mom brought it out yesterday and I was so happy to see it.  Seriously.  I gasped and exclaimed, “The silver purse!”  The girls are loving it too.

Miss really got into carrying it around.

Before I gave it to the girls, I opened it up to make sure there wasn’t anything in it that they couldn’t play with.  Turns out I was the last one to use it.  Here’s what I found:

This is what I used to carry in my purse.  My keys, “address book,” and um, FBI identification card?

Miss enjoyed my special purse contents too.  She was very animated in discussing the importance of having her “message” (the FBI card), her “keys to go for a trip in the car,” and her “book to read in the car” in her purse.

I love playing dress up with my girls.