Weekend fun

Kenly is Queen of the mountain (rock)
Ash is always posing..

Such sweet chaos with these two!

No clue what that face is..

Me and Ash sledding - check out my feet..

Young children + vacation= EXHAUSTED mom and dad! I'm still trying to recover from our weekend in Ruidoso, in fact; if anyone would like to borrow my children for awhile so that I may sleep I will gladly oblige. We actually had a great time despite my ever-present lack of logic. We went hiking and shopping, we rode ponies and had a picnic - I even took Ashlyn sledding. In my flip flops. As in, I hiked through the snow with a kid and huge tube in tow IN FLIP FLOPS. Seriously? Allen said that everyone in that place was saying "Who is the crazy lady sledding with no shoes on?" Yup, that's me. The lunatic.

On a more serious note, one of Allen's good work friends suffered a brain aneurysm on Monday and they've decided to turn his life support off tomorrow as he has no brain activity. This guy is only 22 years old and everyone around him is in total shock. Please pray for his wife and the rest of his family - I know they're confused and hurting so very much right now.

Love to everyone...

Ashlyn and Kenly and bears; Oh my.

We're leaving for Ruidoso on Friday. I have a few concerns.

1. Restless small children (with powerful lungs) in the confines of a car for 4 hours strongly resembles a horror movie. (and it seems strapping them to the roof is frowned upon)
2. Bears.
3. Because we are required to pack way more crap than our car will hold we will be forced to leave the stroller here. I'll actually have to walk.
4. Allen and I don't often spend 4 whole days together, and I'm told that 60 straight hours with me is a wee bit intolerable. We shall see.
5. We are driving home on Monday which happens to be my birthday. It is impossible to properly celebrate the 26th anniversary of my birth in only half of a day. You will all just have to make up for it with jewels. Or cake. Or both.

It's in the "jeans"..or busting out of them.

I'm trying to lose weight for several reasons..

1. No reputable surgeon will perform a disc fusion on me until I do (and when letting someone re build your spine, that someone should apparently be- among other things- "reputable.")
2. Fat just isn't fun.
3. My poor husband (who gets increasingly better looking every second) does not deserve to be forever bound to my post-wedding, post-baby 60 pound weight gain.

I'm currently down 17 pounds which; roughly translated, means that you can see a difference. In my fingers.

On the upside I am notorious for my ability to lose things, so I'm hoping that genetic pre-disposition will also apply when it comes to pounds.

Keep it simple, stupid

After dinner last night I took the girls outside to ride scooters and bikes and expend some energy when I heard the familiar (but incredibly annoying) music of the ice cream truck rolling down our street. I usually avoid the jingling freezer like the plague, with a mind set of “If we never stop the truck the girls will never know what it is – thus I will not be exposed to pleas of “But MOOOOOMMMM It’s the ICE CREAM TRUCK!”

So I was little surprised when Ashlyn saw it and knew exactly what it was…. And for whatever reason (that I can already tell I’ll regret every day when we hear the music) I decided we would get ice cream. The girls were thrilled! They thought getting to choose which bar they wanted and paying the lady was so much fun! Ashlyn even picked a weed and gave it to her. Then they sat in the garage in their little chair and had the best time giggling and licking and getting completely and utterly sticky (hard for this OCD mom to watch). They both thought they had gotten the most awesome little treat and it reminded me that sometimes we shouldn’t ignore the simple things. Who needs Chuck E. Cheese when you have ice cream on wheels?

I was also very pleasantly surprised to know that the failing economy has not caused inflation in the ice cream truck industry. Most of the treats were only $1.00…. this is comforting news. We may soon lack the funds for milk, cheese and eggs, but we will be able to purchase ice cream and we won’t have to waste any gas in order to do so!

Noteworthy Items; in list form:

1. Facebook is causing me to be a bad mother.
2. I purchased new bras and my tata's are back where they belong; just under my chin.
3. Since Christmas, I have acquired 14 new books and have read 9 of them. I'm. A. Nerd.
4. 3 of those books are historical non-fiction; meaning I'm learning stuff. Serious. Nerd.
5. I need someone to explain to me (Again) that 32 degrees is cold. Way cold. When you see that temperature on the forecast for the following day you should wear long sleeves. And shoes that cover your whole foot.
6. My daughters believe that dandelions are the most beautiful flower alive. Because of this every cup, saucer or other such dish I own is housing a dead weed.

That is all.

Finally, she uses a brain cell..

I have 3 (or 4; depending on how you look at it) tattoos. I personally feel that they can be a wonderful expression of self, faith, artistry... and, as most who have ever gone under the inking needle will atest, they are mildly addicting.

Sometimes, though - tats are not an expression of anything more than a dumb 18 year old deciding that she "has to have one." I mean, the state of Texas says I'm mature enough so by jove - I'm gonna do it! This is how my first tat came to be. I walked into the tattoo parlor, straight up to the pictures on the wall, saw the most ridiculous drawing and said "THAT'S IT!" Because of this gross lack of sane thinking I will forever be inked on the right hip with a palm tree. Yeah, I know..

I also have a large butterfly on my left foot that used to be a small butterfly. I wanted another tat but didn't want to put one anywhere else so I just covered the old with a new. Again, I know..

FINALLY I have gotten a tattoo that means something and that I can honestly say I love. It's the Chinese symbol for "dad" - as most of you know I lost my Dad almost 10 years ago, so this one was completely planned and has meaning behind it.

Booty girls!

I have absolutely NO idea what caused this.. but it happened, it made me laugh hysterically, and I got a picture. These kids are nuts.

Also, my kids are con-artists, and I'm convinced that this could prove very lucrative for our future.

Happy Sunday everyone!

Will someone please hit the pause button?

These offspring of mine have decided that they will grow up at the speed of light, and apparently there is nothing I can do to stop it. Kenly is speaking in complete sentences (occasionally...) and last week Ashlyn used the word "comtemplation" in the correct context. I'm sorry, I did not sign up for this, and now that I see how quickly this whole thing is going to go I don't think I want to continue. (ok, ok so I did sign up for it and I'll keep the kids I suppose; but SERIOUSLY. I guess I should go ahead and get graduation announcements ready. At this rate that will be happening next week.)

Kayla; the anti-crafter

I am easily inspired by anything crafty. I always find things in stores or magazines or on HGTV and decide that “I can TOTALLY make that”; which in-turn leads me to Hobby Lobby to purchase paint, sparkles, glue, ribbon, papers or whatever materials my latest project requires. I’ll get home, feeling hopeful and confident about myself, lay out my workspace and dive head first into creating. I will then happily cut, glue, staple and poke for awhile; until I reach a step that is entirely too advanced for my elementary skill level. I’ll fumble and curse and growl and begin blaming my husband (who’s 300 miles away) or my kids (who are in bed) for my “lack of concentration” -( lack of ability). Ultimately I’ll quit; leaving countless unfinished projects lying around that sooner or later get scrapped for parts and thrown out. It’s maddening, really.

However; I was able to FINALLY start and finish something all on my own and I will post pictures here as proof that I am not a complete crafting failure.

These are hanging in Ashlyn’s room; above her bed. I’m waiting for the night when my shotty craftsmanship gives way and the balls descend onto her head.

Boys will be boys...

This weekend we met up with Allen’s good friend, Joe, and some friends to celebrate Joe’s birthday. Allen and Joe have been buddies since they were more or less in diapers and (as men do) seem to find trouble anytime they are together. Per normal “married folk” behavior; the guys had gathered in one area and the girls in another to visit and catch up. After a few minutes I hear something like this; “Yeah Allen, like that time we shot you TWICE” followed by an uproar of man-laughter. I catch Allen’s face at that moment and it goes from sheer joy at the thought of this memory to “Oh CRAP*” in about 2 seconds flat. You see, this little shooting incident happened only a couple of years ago and certainly after Allen and I were married but I had not heard a THING about it before.

When Al took me to lunch today I brought it up (Because I’m a woman, and we can’t help it. We have to nag and gripe and question every little thing. That’s just how it works.) It starts innocently enough – I’m jokingly asking him how this little story slipped by me for this long and he’s giving me this “I have no idea; I thought I told you” look coupled with a knowing smirk. A little later (Again, because I’m a woman and estrogen is a determined hormone) I sneak in something about being irresponsible and being dangerous with guns and “we have kids you can’t act that way.” Of course Allen then points out that this reaction is exactly why he’d omitted this information in the first place. After further consideration, I’m also curious as to how the ginormous bruising he suffered escaped my sights. This happened in the beginning of our marriage and probably around the time we were still, um – enjoying “being newlyweds.” A lot. Constantly. (sorry mom).

Fear not, ladies – for in the end I still conquered. I ended by pointing out that, contrary to his plan, omitting this story had not saved him a butt-chewing – it had merely delayed it. Plus, he had ignited the obligatory “what else has he done that I don’t know about” thought process that always follows in these cases. I have also concluded that stories like these remind me of how thankful I am for my daughters. Yeah – once a month there will be raging, unruly hormonal outbursts and emotional overflows and giggling silly nonsense aplenty; but (hopefully) there will not be reckless gun-shooting, testosterone-driven idiocy.

I love you, honey!

**I should clarify that Allen was “shot” with only the “wad” without pellets from a shotgun… these are his terms; not mine – but I just needed to ensure that it was understood that no bullets/pellets/other such metal actually entered his body.

The kiddos; and vital information about x-rays.

I promised updated pics of the kids- and here they are! Aunt Amanda gave Kenly the tutu she's wearing for Christmas and she NEVER takes it off, she has even slept in it a few times.

Also - most of you know that I have some really bad back issues. I had surgery when Ash was just 6 weeks old and will probably have a disc fusion in a year or so. I have regular steroid injections and facet blocks and they are going to "kill" my nerves in a month. But for now I live with a lot of pain and my back constantly locks, leaving me walking like an 85 year old. I had a really bad flare-up on Monday and my pain Dr. couldn't get me in so I ended up in the ER. They, of course, took x-rays and it was then that I found out that THEY CAN SEE TAMPONS on an x-ray! I mean, I'm not modest or shy by ANY means about things like that (obviously; as I'm telling this story.. ) but it's kind of unnerving to know that these COMPLETE strangers are aware of my current visitor by means of a photo of my screwed-up back!

I hope you all have a great Sunday!