Archives for April 2013

Bird Watch 2013

I'm not a "lets live out in the middle of no where" kinda girl but there have been some awesome perks that come with living in our borrowed log-cabin.

The past month we've been watching our dive-bombing friend, "Mamma Mockingbird" build a nest...right outside our back door...right there in the corner. Its a beautiful nest! I love taking pictures of it and being grossed out by admiring the unique materials she chose to use.


Shortly after training my girls to stomp across the deck as we approached the back door in the evenings, we found a tiny piece of a shell. WHAT!?! Yep, she had a baby up there now. So Cool!

I ran into the house the morning I found the shell and began our "homeschool spring science observation lesson". LOL Yeah, I don't so much plan these things...just pretend I'm clever like that. I first showed my husband the awesome find...he was less than impressed but a little more than eeked-out that I was so excited about it. I showed the kids who tried to mimic my enthusiasm. They were slightly confused.


I did convince the hubs to climb on a chair and take pictures for me. That was quite entertaining for me! He was slightly nervous about "mamma mockingbird" dive-bombing him as he snapped away with his phone. He could hear her chirping up a storm from the tree just a couple yards away. He may or may not have called me out there to "watch his back" and I may or may not have used bright colored paddles as a deterrent to her possible sneak attack.313755_671255697807_480006437_n

Maybe this wasn't the best idea...GROSS! We didn't let the kids look in the nest for can see why. We didn't want them to have nightmares! After they become slightly fluffy and a little larger/easier to see, we let each kids take a turn "observing them". Again with the mirrored excitement. With rules like, talk quietly and don't tough, there's little to be enthused about.bird watch 2013flip flop pic courtesy of the Iz

We've been "observing" these babies for about 18 days now. They are still not adorable but MUCH better than the first site of pink-skin-lumps. I think we have discovered 5...although they all look conjoined and we still have a hard time identifying 5 beaks at any given time. The kids have learned to love seeing new pictures and even being lifted up to "check on the baby birds".

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Our current fear...That Stare. lol No, really its that they aren't going to be pushed out of the nest by their mamma but that one of them {probably the one on the bottom of the stack} will breath wrong and they'll all tumble out. All I hear in my head is the song,

"There were 5 in the nest bed
and the little one said,
Roll Over.
Roll Over.
They all rolled over
and one fell out.
There were 4 in the bed
and the little one said..."

Anyways...I'll update you when they take flight. But until then, I'll leave you with this "meme"!homeschool bird meme


Happy spring observing!

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The Perfect Toast {Thoughtful Thursday}

Thoughtful Thursday a weekly series on

I've got something beyond simple today for Thoughtful Thursday- TOAST.

Yep, as easy as "stick the bread into the toaster" may seem, my high-school-aged cousin {out of the mouth of babes} opened my eyes to the yumminess that Is 1/2 I like to call it.

1/2 toast is when your bread is only toasted on one side. This creates less crummage while still getting the crunch my family like for their PB&Js. Here's how ya do for this...are you ready...really, are you ready?

Put 2 pieces of bread in 1 toaster slot. ShuBAM--> 1/2 TOAST!

half toast

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#boymom NOT for the Faint of Heart {part 4}

Memories can be so vivid. Writing can be so therapeutic. Catch up on how our Friday morning coloring got us to this place HERE, HERE, and HERE.

"Benjamin" Oh...that's my kids name. We rarely call him by his real/full name. I guess I'd forgotten what name I should be listening for and even the name I'd just scribbled on numerous line in all that paper work. Either that or I'd calmed down so much since my prince charming had arrived that fact that my lil prince's skull was cracked didn't matter any more.

Whichever way it may be, I finally snap out of it and snatch up my purse and the bleeder. I look at Matt and we both know someone has to stay in the waiting room with the girls. They did NOT need to see what was about to go down and though they are Very well-behaved, they didn't need to be left alone. {Someone might recognize their awesomeness and want to 'borrow' them...} Any how, I say, "I'll take him." As if I were doing Matt a favor. Really, I just want to be able to say, "I can be a boy mom! I started this crazy day, I can finish it!"

He stands as we head back with the nurse and offers to take my place but was a team player! He stays and locats the "on" button for the TV. #winning

After more silly shenanigans having to do with typing junk into a computer, we make it back to the exam room. This joker is hard-core and sterile. I mean, all doctor's offices feel clean but this smells of ER with tool chests full of equipment. I gently lay Jamin on the exam table, trying not to make his brains fall out of his new crevice. He has made a marvelous...stinky right before we walked back. As soon as I pull out the wipes, J decides he's going to go spelunking off the side of the table. "NO! I don't think so!" I yelled as I pull my tiny dare-devil onto his back. "You are NOT allowed to climb, roll, jump, or have least for the rest of the day!" I'd never been one of those moms. I'm pretty relaxed in letting my kids be adventurous and such but Not Today! Today, I want to twist him up in bubble wrap and rock him; forever.

Just as I begin cleaning up the filth in dude's pants the doctor, whom we'd never met and my buddy, Lacey walk in. That man's eyes round out, as big as a cartoon being smacked over the head with a frying pan. I can't help but laugh while apologizing. He dismisses himself and said they would return. Lacey follows out the door behind him chuckling and suggest I put the nasty diaper in the red-lined, "toxic" trashcan behind me.

All cleaned up and ready to get checked, we let them know "all is clear". It was amazing how un-phased the bug-eyed doctor is at the sight of Jamin's gaping wound verses his horrific diaper. He assesses the gash quickly and states, "We'll do some staples." Wow. That made my entire morning feel so...not a big deal. In a good way. They send in a "hazmat" team/guy to clean up my sad little man's hair as well as around the "scene of the accident". He is so good with J, even giving Jamin 5 stickers after letting him mash on his head to prep the area for the staples.

The doctor and Lacey return with itsy bitsy staple gun in hand. Mr Hazmat swaddles Jamin and lays him on his tummy. Jamin thinks this is a funny game as the guy talks to him silly for a moment. Then, realizing he can't move his arms and his new-foun-friend is not going to help unbundled him, Jamin frantically begins asking, "Mamma?!? Mamma?!?"

Tears. That's the only thing that want to come out as I watch that man in the white coat press a tiny stapler into my son's skin on the back of his head and giggle to make sure it was attached. The chick-chunck sound is almost more than I can bear. I just want to hold him in my lap like I did for the doctor to listen to his chest the Friday before when we discovered he had croup. I couldn't. I just had to watch him lye on that crunchy paper and I want to hold his hand like I did the Monday a few days before, as he got an ultrasound to check for a hernia. But I couldn't. I  watch. I just lean over near his face {probably Way too close to Hazmat-man} and said, "I love you baby. Mamma's right here!!!"

After the third set of chick-chuncks, I nearly knock Jamin's new friend turned foe over as I try to grab up my tiny baby boy. Making the doctor wipe the tiny new blood he has created with the 3 staples as if it were all his fault. I snuggle my crying boy and sway, not even caring what the doctor was telling me about watching for possible infection or follow-up appointments. I perk up when I hear something about when to come back and get those evil things taken out! I wanted it to all be done. A distant memory. I sucked it up. I was a good boy-mom. I even have an entire photo album of pictures I took for him as if this was a dance recital for the girls. I wanted him to be able to see the memory the rest of us would have burned into our brains. I want him to be able to laugh at how he got this scar on the back of his head when we chooses to inevitably buzz his head as a teen. I want to not be a chicken-mom but an all-or-nothing-mom!

He survived. I survived. We survived!

If we had any doubt before, he is all boy! And I'm going to have buns of steel by the time he's grown. This after noon, he woke up from nap and playing like normal. Every time he gets up to chase his sister I clench my butt. Every time he climbs in the window seal to get a better view of the cows, I clinch my toosh and take deeeeeep. Long breaths. He is already sporting his battle scar, taking his hat off to show our valley friends who ask, "How are you?"

I am officially a BOY MOM!

{does that mean he never has to do anything like this again???? ONE good stories enough, right!?!}

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#boymom NOT for the Faint of Heart {part 3}

Our relaxing Friday turned into squealing into the parking lot of an urgent care center.

I once again unload my clown car and let myself giggle a little at the moment. Laughter is Definitely one of my stress relievers! We pitter pattered through the heavy glass doors and made small talk over the weird standy guy riding a horse in the entry way. Accessing the environment, I quickly ask the girls to have a seat in two chairs right next to the window where I, with J overly protected on my hip, will be checking in.

A sweet women opens the window and looks at me and my silly Jamin in his superman sweatshirt. {bwt: Am I supposed to know what these people need to know from me? anyways...} I said, "Hi. He [looking at Jamin] has cut open the back of his head and may need stitches." to which she responded, "Has he been here before?" She was more than polite but I was stressed and slightly annoyed. I just wanted to respond, "HE'S TWO! I'm NOT a Horrible Mother!!! REALLY!!! So of Course he's never been the URGENT Care center," but instead I calmly smiled and said, "No ma'am".

She reached next to her and grabbed the unavoidable clipboard full of paper work to fill out. Then I was directed to a section of the waiting room behind a wall "where we keep the children". {insert Daddy Day Care reference} Just kidding, where there was a kids area. We all scurried over to find the assortment of toys and books that would occupy them while I flipped quickly through the pile of papers and scribbled down the necessary information.

The girls squirm around the kid's area and finally ask if they could go the "potty". Not wanted to waste a moment of precious fill-out-the-paper-work time, I allow them to go into the women's "one holer" together because I can see it from where we are sitting. They giggle across the waiting room and race into the restroom. I finish up the papers and proudly hand them over to the women at the window. She, less impressed with my stealth, ask for the name of "his" primary care giver.

Snap...I don't know! We've only been to a doctor in town once, ugg, and that was just Last week. I quickly give her the name of the pediatric clinic but explained we saw the nurse practitioner and I didn't know the doctor's name there yet. She looks at me confused..."If it is between the hours of 8-5 you have to go to your PCP". "Uhhh, I was Just there and they sent me Here." The confusion slides off her face and she informs me she would just call and get a referral. "Thanks you!" Now, I am a calm, sane women but I was not about to leave over a technicality. My kid has a hole in the back of his head!

I shack it off and go to check on the girls in the restroom. They are still gitty that they were allowed to go to the restroom "by themselves" so I just close the unlocked door after making sure they knew not to come out without their pants pulled up. Classy, I know!

J and I make our way back to our corner in time to hear a familiar voice. MATT IS HERE! My handsome princess had arrived. I love seeing my hubs and he comes to my rescue often but this was right up there with the first night he rescued me and I ever felt compelled to kiss the boy.

skippable side story: We weren't even technically dating and I'd taken some junior high girls home out in the boonies past Walnut Ridge, AR. I know, it actually can get more in-the-boonies than Walnut Ridge. Anyways. I knew I was low on gas but it was Walnut Ridge; it was late at night; and I'd promised to have the girls home. Yep, I ran out. Sitting on the side of the road in utter nothing-but-fields-of-crops darkness. Me and my little Honda were stranded. I called the only person I knew could help. I called Matt. I waited trying not to freak out and when I saw him pull up on in his black mustang, I wanted to cheer. As I climbed into his car I wanted to smooch that boy right on the cheek like a real gentleman deserved...but I didn't. I don't really regret it though. I get to smooch that gentleman any time I want now!

Matt's eyes dart around the waiting room trying to locate us. My heart rate lulled and I could breath just a little easier. Our eyes meet and I glance at the restroom. He knew exactly what I am saying and went in to find the girls and help them finish up. A couple minutes later, they round the corner and join us. I wanted to crawl up in Matt's lap but instead I hand over the injured one for some snuggles. Jamin just kept cheering, "Daddy! Daddy!" as if this was a party his poor dad finally made it to. We chatt briefly. I tell him we are now just waiting to be called back and he let me know he'd stopped by the house to clean up all the blood so I didn't have to when I got home. {swoon}

Our friend Lacey pops out to check on us. Giggling at my terrible makeshift bandage, she lets me know we are next to be called. She pulled the bandage back and locates the wound {as had Matt moments before} and like all good friends, she says, "Oh girl! That will need some stitches. You did a great job. You are a superhero! You did exactly what you should have done. Way To Go." Well, maybe she didn't say all that but she did reassure me and make me feel less self-conscious about what a terrible mother I was for letting my kid bash his head in and all the while wondering if they were gonna call DHS on me.

She disappears back into the hall and we go back to our waiting.

to be continued...

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#boymom NOT for the Faint of Heart {part 2}

The morning was unfolding a lot differently than I'd imagined. Simple coloring turned tragic has lead to this:

I hung up the phone and barked at the girl in my most I-mean-business voice, "GIRLS. Go get real clothes on. NOW. Shirt. Pants. Now."

The bleeding had stopped squirting but all his white blonde hair on the rear of Jamin's head was now red. Forcing myself to move calmly to insure no more injuries were caused in my panic, I grabbed the washcloth and wiped us down again. I paused. Okay, check, I thought to myself. "Don't MOVE" I told Jamin who was sitting on the counter, feet propped in the towel drawer, as he pushed away the tears that were covering his adorable, tiny, sad, cheeks.

I burned holes through him as I stared him down while I moved a few feet away to grab some gauze and tape. We Had no gauze. I quickly reevaluated and snagged a bundle of tissue right there and the small 1st aid tape in the drawer. I ripped off a long piece of white tape and folded the tissue into a pallet as I quick-stepped back toward Jamin. I located the gash and pressed the large square on top only to strap the tape around it and the entire circumstance of his head. Yep, ghetto engineering at it's finest. I stepped back to admire my handy work and snickered when Jamin gave me a smile as if to say, "How's it look Mamma?!?" {sigh of relief} His wailing had stopped.

By this time, the girls rounded the corner from their room, naked. Both holding arm-fulls of clothing. "GREAT! Put them on" I said. I was so proud of how quickly they responded under such pressure. Any other time we were trying to head out the door there would be meltdowns over who got to wear what panties or at least major lolly-gagging in the I-don't-know-how-to-put-on-a-shirt-anymore department. Mags threw on her clothes so I added to her directions, "Grab socks and shoes. Now. Put them on." but to Izzie I redirected, "Sorry, you can't wear leggings. Its too cold. Go get real pants and put it all on." Holding Jamin and his new head gear I paused; "crap, what now." I thought. "Oh yeah, some pants, rather than PJ shorts, for the injured one and a bra and shoes would be nice for the mamma/EMT!"

We all collided in my bedroom, grabbing shoes, jackets and a hat to cover my sweet boy's red we didn't freakout the others in the waiting room. In the distance I hear my phone going off. Sternly giving more orders, we rushed to the front door; dressed and ready in less than 10 minutes- family record! They grabbed morning cups, I grabbed the keys and diapers and we rushed to the van. Another new record was made as each child hollered bye to the dog rather than stopping for stinky hugs and hopped into the van. Those who could least the parts they could, did so speedily!

Whipping down the driveway I called Matt back to let him know where we were headed. He had turned around and was now only minutes away from our exit. I explained there was still blood dripped across the kitchen but I think I had the bleeding stopped or at minimum slowed. We raced over tickle hill with no warning and over to the main road. Finally off the phone, I realized I wasn't sure if I remembered where exactly the clinic was located in reference to the street we been dumped out. Pulling a giant U-ie, we made it to the parking lot. Unloading like circus clowns, the kids filed onto the sidewalk and we all rushed inside as I quickly reminded them of "manors in public".

When we approached the front desk, the clerk seemed dazed. Again, I regained composure, "Yes, this little guy has busted his head open and may need stitches."

{blank Stare} "Well, ummm. We are gonna have to send you to the emergency room. We only have two providers here today and they're both booked."

{Hhhuuuuh???} "Um, Lacey sent me here and said they could do it?"

"Sorry, we can't."

We finished up a seemly long small talk after the awkward "no" and we all filed back into the van and I text my friend to let her know we'd been sent away. She responded quickly with, "What? Are you still here?" When I told her yes she responded, "Where"... She checked her parking lot and called immediately me only for us to both realize...I'd gone to the wrong clinic. She works two different places. Well snap! We rushed down the same street in search of the proper "Urgent Care" center and called Matt to reroute him.

to be continued...

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