28 Days

(Name the actress in that movie)

In approximately 28 days, my dashing Lumberjack and I will be driving the fab four to my parents house where we will be leaving them for 8 full and glorious days while we, my main man and I, hop on a plane and fly to Cancun.

No.

I am not kidding.

Yes.

I can't believe it either.

So, two days ago, when this post could have been renamed 30 days, I got a hankering to participate in this:

Now, I have never seen this so-called "Biggest Loser."

I don't know how Jillian Michael's is.

But, I'll tell you this:  I am not fond of her.

Why?

Because she makes my arms feel like Jell-O, that's why.

And who does push-ups anymore?

Honestly.

But I have committed to doing this each and every day until I leave for my fabulous and glorious kid-free, sun-filled trip.

Interruption:  I will most likely be heartbroken and missing my monsters by day three.  But days 1-2 should be fun.

Now, I am convinced that there is some mysterious, evil power attempting to thwart my fitness goals.

Allow me to explain:

1)  I wake up at 5:40 am to do this torturous video.  Yet, if I wake up that early, so does Little Dude.  He's cruel like that. Therefore, I must wait until nap time.

2)  Daisy Mae no longer naps.  So Daisy Mae, who is my BFF and extremely chatty,  will be joining me and Ms. Michael's.

3)  I put the DVD in the DVD player.  On this DVD, there are 3 different workout episodes.  So, if one were to want to pick one, one  would need to use a remote. 

Yes.

That might seem like a simple task.

But not for us.

Our remote has been missing since March 28, 2009.

Yes.

I am certain on that exact date.

So,  there is no way for me to choose a workout.

4)  Don't lose heart! 

I do not let that deter me.

I remember we have a laptop with a handy DVD playing function.

So, Daisy Mae and I  reverse gears and we switch to laptop mode.

5)  Our brand new laptop is irritating me.  The speakers only work when they choose to work.

Why?

I do not know.

And, no.

My volume was not muted.

I am smart enough to know that.

But that's  it.

I firmly believe that for $700, this computer should be at peak performance 100% of the time.

Guess when they decide to not work.

So, I get to stare at Jillian and attempt to read her lips as she shares with me vital information on how I will get the body of my dreams.

6)  While I am jumping all around and looking like a dork, Daisy Mae, is jumping around alongside me.  Since I am using weights, she feels she needs weights.

I don't have weights for my 5-year-old.

So I give her a can of green beans and a can of corn.

Daisy Mae is extremely uncoordinated and she almost throws the can of green beans at the laptop.

That would have been unfortunate.

Daisy Mae is also extremely chatty.

So, instead of Ms. Michael's helpful tips, I get to listen to Daisy Mae.

"Mom, do you want to look like her?"

"Mom, how do you look like her?"

"Mom, are you doing this cause you are so chubs?"

"Mom, I'm thirsty."

"Mom, I'm hungry."

Interruption:  I am hungry, too.  I am always in the mood to eat.

"Mom, I'm hot."

"Mom, can we watch something else?"

"Mom, is this how you are going to lose the tummy chubs?"

And as she says that, she begins to poke at my belly fat.

Ah, the joys of motherhood.

7)  I am now 11 exhausting minutes into this dreadful DVD when, it stops.

It just stops.

It's like it has a skip or something.

And when it corrects itself, it jumps to the end, so I am missing like 8 minutes of what I am sure is necessary calisthenics that will give me the body I deserve.

AHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

I am now frustrated.

And still chubby.

So.

Here is my question.

Does anyone know how to repair a DVD?

Any home tricks?

Because I am on a timeline here.

And Jillian says right on the DVD cover that I could lose up to 20 pounds in 30 days.

And that is just amazing.

Help.

Helpful.

Meet the dudes.

The dudes are taking a bath.

Handsome Dude, who was feeling particularly helpful this morning, decided to wash Little Dude.

Little Dude does not like this.

Little Dude is mad.

That's odd.

Now, big sister shall help.

Still, Little Dude does not appreciate her efforts.

Poor Little Dude.

My children are so helpful.

Handsome Dude helped himself to some milk:

He dropped it.

Plastics make it possible.

He also helped himself to a healthy snack.

Hey, Dude!

What are you doing down there?

Handsome Dude . . . Did you take a cupcake?

"Ummm . . . yes . . . I share with brother."

"See?"

So very helpful those boys are.

My girls are helpful.

Would you like to see what they made the Lumberjack for Christmas?

Coupons for free back scratches.

Lumberjacks love back scratches.

I got some coupons, too!

"Free Cleen Up."

Now, if you'll excuse me, I'm about to redeem one of my coupons at this very moment.

We'll see how well this goes over.

Happy Saturday!

The Lumberjack Changes a Diaper.

So . . . last night the Lumberjack was playing around with Handsome Dude.

Usually this involves the Lumberjack taking Handsome Dude by the pants and twirling him all around.

Twirling, spinning, flying . . . you know . . . the usual.

And all this fun pants twirling resulted in a torn diaper for Handsome Dude.

I pointed this out to the Lumberjack who took care of things and put Handsome Dude to bed.

And this is what I discovered this morning when I attempted to tackle Handsome Dude's morning diaper:

Yes.

Perfect.

The Lumberjack got his giant, economy sized roll of blue painter's tape and just taped the diaper.

Interruption:  Can we not all agree that morning diapers are just about the worst thing in the world?

Yes. 

This is, in fact, the same blue tape that he used to wrap the Christmas present.

Perhaps the blue tape should be confiscated from the Lumberjack.

What was my Lumberjack thinking?

This is the man I chose to father my children.

I can only blame myself.

I am linking up at Finer Things today.

I suppose I should just be thankful that I have a husband who loves our kids, plays with them, and yes, even changes diapers!

You Can't Handle the Truth!

Well, maybe you can handle it.

But I can't.

My precious girls!

How did you become so naughty?

Well, it is time I revealed the truth from yesterday's post:

People!

My girls would never steal.

PUH-lease.

#1 was false.

Rachel was the only person who guessed correctly!

Yes, they threw apples at someone else's camp trailer while I was being suffocated by a parachute.

Thankfully, the people were not at the campground during this time and the apples cause no damage.

Our little angels had to sit at the campfire for the rest of the night: about 4 hours.

And yes, they plucked the lattice of off the neighbor's fence for the own little wood pile.

My sweet girls came running into the house:

"Mama!  Come look at our play house!  We have some wood for winter!  Come look!"

Well, mama looked.

And mama did not like what she saw.

The Lumberjack rebuilt the fence-it took him about 45 minutes.

So the girls each owed him 45 minutes of  extra chores.

*sigh*

Where do I hand in my resignation?

Clearly, I am not fit to be a mother.

***********

Update:  I now have Taylor Swift on my IPod.

Question:  Is Taylor Swift only cool for the junior high crowd?

Just tell me the truth.

Either way, I still love that song.

Finish the line:

"Walking the streets with you and your worn-out jeans
I can't help thinking this is how it ought to be
Laughing on a park bench, _______________

_________________________________"?

 

I Know What You Did Last Summer

I am linking up to Mylestones today for Flashback Friday.

The theme is friendship.

This post is about my two daugthers, ages 5 and 6 at the time, and the mischief they can get into together.

Already, they are best friends and love each other deeply, and I am thankful for that.

 

I have these two girls.

Precious to my heart.

They are close in age and are becoming close friends and sisters.

But they are not always as angelic as they might seem.

In the past few months, there have been two moments where they have made me hide my face in shame.

I almost cannot bear to share these horrific events with you . . . I mean what will you think of me?

What will you think of my darling angels?

Maybe I had better just keep my mouth shut . . .

Okay, okay, okay.

Here's what I will do.

I will tell you 3 scenarios.

Two will be true.

One will be false.

Let's see if you can figure out what my "angels" did this summer.

Oh, girls . . .

 

I know what you did last summer.

Okay.

Here goes nothing.

Scenario #1:

We were at the grocery store.  When I say we, I mean myself and the Fab Four, not me and the Lumberjack.

The Lumberjack . . . with me . . . grocery shopping?

PUH-lease.

I was slightly distracted.

Actually, I was just trying to get through the store without forgetting anything on my list or murdering any of my children.

Well, while I was trying to load the groceries onto the moving black belt, I was also trying to stop Handsome Dude :

from chucking cans of vegetables on top of the bread.

I was also trying to teach Little Dude:

that it is not okay to push all the debit card machine buttons 4.2 million times.

Seriously.

Could there be a worse spot for debit card machines for mothers with young?

So, while all of that was going on, my two precious princesses saw some chapstick they wanted and just took it.

They put it in their pockets.

And they left the store with them.

Without paying.

Scenario #2:

We were camping.

Whenever you go camping, it takes forever to get your little site set up.
Especially if you camp with the Lumberjack.

And even more so if you camp with the Lumberjack's family.

Since we were the first to arrive, I was voted to help the Lumberjack set up his huge parachute.

Do you all remember the parachute?

 

Ridiculous.

Anyways, there I was, holding the large pole while the Lumberjack tried to tie the parachute lines down.

He made an oopsie and the parachute fell and the pole almost fell on top of me.

I lived.

But the point is that the parachute was now completely covering my eyes and, as a result,  I cannot see the fab four.

This is not ideal.

But I can hear them.

And I hear my two little girls shouting, "Yah!  Take that, Monster!  Yah!"

Along with the shouting, I also hear loud thunks and bangs.

" (___insert husband's name___)!  What are they doing?"

Well, they were playing a game.

They were pretending that they were the princesses (odd) and there was a monster who was trying to attack them.

They had found an apple tree and were taking apples and throwing them at their "monster."

Would you all like to know what the monster was?

Somebody else's camp trailer.

Scenario #3:

Our darling girls are playing in the backyard.

Their father, the Lumberjack, built them a delightful little playhouse.

Please notice the fence behind the playhouse.

It will be important in about two seconds.

Here are my girls playing in the playhouse with their cute little red-headed friend.

Cute little red-headed friend is not guilty of the crime that is about to be committed.

Our neighbors have a fence . . . you know the kind with the foot of lattice on the top?

Well, my girls, in the spirit of all things Lumberjack, decided that they needed a woodpile for their playhouse.

So, they plucked out each little piece of lattice from our neighbor's fence . . . and they made themselves a woodpile.

I mean, can you blame them?

They get it from their father.

 

Alright.

So out of those 3 scenarios, 2 are true.

1 is false.

Which one do you think is false?

On a completely unrelated note, I would like everyone to know that in the past 48 hours, I have become a HUGE fan of the Taylor Swift song, "You Belong to Me."

Just thought you might need to know that.

Click here to see the answers

Unbelievable.

The following are true happenings.

You may find them hard to believe.

But, they are true . . . oh, so true.

1)  I know the person who created this pattern:

Is that not the cutest thing ever?

I cannot even sew the patches on my girls' Awanas vests.

Check out her site:  www.beansproutcreations.com

I don't just know of her.

I know her know her.

We all know how joyous coffee is.

But think of how much more joyous it would be when you have that darling little owl sleeve on your cup!

And she even has a matching glove pattern.

Incredible!

2)  The last three times the Lumberjack and I have rented a movie, we have picked one that we thought we had not seen, but 20 minutes into it, one of us decides we have seen the movie.

Then we bicker over whether or not we have actually seen aforementioned movie.

Then we watch it for a few more minutes to ensure we have really seen it.

Then we fall asleep on the couch.

What has become of our life together, Mr. Lumberjack?

3)   In my lifetime, I have cut my eyebrow in half . . . not once, but twice.

The first time during my freshman year in high school.  It was a tragic event where I confused a tiny pair of scissors for tweezers.

Grooming is difficult for me.

The second time was last month.

And I would prefer to not share anymore.

4)  Speaking of beauty products, I was afraid of make-up in junior high.  All my friends started wearing it and I began to feel left out.

But I was retarded with makeup.

So my mother bought me clear mascara.

Raise your hand if you did not even know clear mascara existed.

Good.  All of you. 

Now, raise your hand if you don't even know what the purpose of clear mascara would be.

Good, class.

Raise your hand if you are not surprised that I poked myself right on the eyeball with said mascara each and every morning.

Good.

I have issues.

5)  I was a cheerleader in junior high.

6)  I started taking piano lessons at the age of 12 . . . a little later than most children. 

I loved it. 

I continued with the lessons through my junior year in high school. 

For my last recital, I played a 13-page performance of Celine Dion's, "My Heart will Go On" from the Titanic.

I don't wanna brag, but I brought down the house.

Of course, my competition was 6-8 year olds who were butchering "Twinkle-Twinkle Little Star."

After my award-winning performance, I was swarmed by those 6-8 year olds, wondering how I could play so well.

Well, girls . . . I am twice your age.

And apparently I am a loser, because there is no one else here even near my age bracket.

But, don't worry.

I let myself have my moment of glory.

I shook their little hands, gathered my 13 pages of sheet music, held my head high, and walked out of there a star.

And I never performed again.

 7)  And my final bit of unbelievable, yet very true news is:

I lost 3 pounds this week!

Who would have thunk it?

This:

 

is clearly no match for my iron-will like disclipline.

Thank you.

Thank you very much.