I have had a shocking revelation in my stay here that has caused to me reevaluate my very existence.

I can't get out of the baby gates.

Seriously.
This keeps me trapped in parts of the house till I can find a kid that can get me out. I have been trapped in the staircase, trapped in the laundry room, trapped in the living room and locked out of the house. This leaves me feeling quite vulnerable. Not just the sheer frustration of not being able to get out, but the fact that sooner or later, it's going to dawn on the kids that I am at their mercy.

This could get ugly.

I suspect bribes will be in order, so I have been collecting a mental and physical arsenal/toybox to negotiate with on a seven and nine year old level.  Ironically I know it will be the seven year old that will try first. I can see it coming...the redhead, blue eyed bowling ball of fate headed right at my down my 5 foot ally.

I can win this.
(and if I can't, I can at least stall till I leave. I think.)

And he's going to be ok.

To all of you who have prayed and offered help, I am so grateful I don't even know where to begin. Forgive me if I have not responded to each of you yet, but know how much I appreciate it.

I am told by Ron (masterboatburner) who was behind him, the crash "was spectacular!" Ron is a well trained medic and while he tended John, the others took pictures (because that's what your buddies do)

Personally, this is something I never want to see:



your buddy laid on the road and the lifeflight helicopter in the background. Ron (the boatburner) is the scruffy dude in the grey standing looking down.

Today John is better and sitting up a bit. I heard they made him walk and I think he's eating a little. I spoke on the phone with him and he was still a little loopy from the drugs. At the time he was insisting he was leaving tomorrow and riding his bike back to Texas (I could hear laughing in the background). Ron got the phone and reassured me he was NOT riding back nor was he leaving anytime soon. As he put it, "He's not as good as he sounds".

I didn't think so.



I will spare you the other photos, but I think he looks pretty good.

God is good.

So are all of you.
Thank you.

Yanno, my birthday is coming up soon and for any of you out there that may wonder what the perfect gift would be....I want this:



yes, the helicopter too (what's a yacht without one?).
And them. I want them too:



aren't they just too darn cute?

A girl can dream.

I looked at Amy around noon and remarked "This is one of those days when bedtime won't come soon enough".

And it was true.

As I posted on my pulse, most of the day revolved around Miss Thang and her 'no's'.
As in, "NO!" and, "NO WAY!' and "LET ME OUT!" and "PUT ME DOWN!"
I decided I would try and count how many times an hour that little punk said "NO!", but I lost count after five minutes. I simply couldn't keep up with her.

Aside from her 'no's' were the other things that go along with being two:

She escaped out the front door. Twice.

I found her in her mother's room covered in some sort of pink lotion that smelled and looked like strawberry yogurt. It didn't taste like it tho.
I dug all around the side of the bed and thru the covers trying to find the carton to see what she had gotten into.
As it was,  the little punk had gotten into her mama's 'adult' drawer and slathered herself with edible strawberry karma sutra lotion.
No, I didn't know what it was and please don't bother to comment on that.
My life is pathetic enough as it is.

She insisted on going down the big girl slide at the park, then stopping at the very end and screaming for someone to "Come get me!"

She used a whole roll of toilet paper to cram down the front of her dress so she could have 'boobs'.
To those of you who remember me from jr high, please don't comment on that either. Thank you.)

She decided her chicken mcnuggets would be better if she just poured her chocolate milk on them.
In her lap.

Beach sand is better in your hair.

It's better in your brother's hair too.

I lost count of how many baths she had.

To add to whole toddler experience, her brother got into the act too.  He is ten months old and learning to walk.
There are some advantages to being short and teaching a baby to walk. For one, I don't have to stoop over very far to hold his hands while he 'walks', hence no backache.

However...
he learned a new trick.
He was standing by the couch holding onto the side, when I walked by and paused for a moment. He latched on to my leg, then reached up and grabbed my butt.
With both hands.
(I have been reassured this is just a baby thing, but I have seen his daddy do the same thing to his mama, so I suspect it's in the genes.)

And we walked thru the house like that.
So I have grubby hand prints on my butt.

Of course he gets tired and I swing him up on my hip. Not a bad thing, but he puts one arm behind me and grabs the front of my shirt with the other.

Guess where?

And the shirt is not good enough, he feels more secure grabbing the edge of my bra thru the shirt and hanging on to that.
Which causes me to do this whole put-down-the-baby-and-readjust-the-boobage-while-pulling-my-shirt-back-in-place manuever.
Which also leaves yet another grubby hand print.

People are starting to talk.

I'm seriously too old for this.

This week has been on a downhill roll and hopefully will slow down once I get off the plane in Norfolk Wednesday.

Then again, I have this waiting for me, so maybe not



This last weekend was filled with a family reunion. True to form there was lots of family. So much so that one of the members got lost and found the wrong reunion down the road. It wasn't as bad as it sounded because it turned out they were related to us anyway. Afterwards, some of ours meandered down to theirs and vice versa.

You gotta love small towns.

There was lots of food and fun and games and even a little pickin' and grinnin' going on:



(I have no idea who any of those people are, but they show up every year so I assume they are in laws or out laws in some manner)

The lovely matriarch of the family was in residence:



Of course not everything was all sunshine and roses:



and the younger generation was busy taking notes so they could change things up when they seized power:



and naturally when it got to be just too much hanging around with the old geezers, the kids bailed:

(when I first married into this family, I was up that tree a lot!)

Last but not least were the 'trunk shows' where everyone was buying, selling and trading handmade jewelry,  crafts, Avon and Mary Kay out of the car trunks.
Yours truly even bought a new necklace and earrings:


(pay no attention to the scruffy looking bum hanging on my neck...the whole family is nothing but moochers)

So today there is running around and running amok to do.
Tomorrow more of the same, plus a doctor's appt.
Wednesday ...
I am outta here