Tuesday, September 30, 2008
Monday, September 29, 2008
Sunday, September 28, 2008
Saturday, September 27, 2008
This link is for Cally.
And I think that this is Conan on the right of Matt and Scott on the left of LG. Am I right?
Lori...Cally...do I win...do I win?
Friday, September 26, 2008
They are growing so fast.
Mom's advice for the day is to enjoy the summer of their lives.
The classes are smaller.
And they may post a whole lot of pictures of their kids.
Thursday, September 25, 2008
He is not out,
He's under your pain.
Not far away,
He'll help you climb,
Because you looked up,
Wednesday, September 24, 2008
We love to play games with our family and our friends.
Risk is one of my personal favorites. And, ask anyone in the family. I rule at risk. Why anyone thinks that a woman can't be the head of the military is beyond me. I want to rule the world! Oh...hmm...I may have answered my own question there.
Anyhow, back to the post. In our family, we especially like to play cards.
The conversations and laughs that you can have while playing cards with friends are unparalleled.
We really thought it was funny when a new friend who had moved from out West was caught saying the great southern phrase "you is" during a card game a few months back. ie...You is up next. Translation...it's your turn.
A couple of weeks ago we were again playing cards with some friends. I threatened LG that if he gave me that point I didn't want that he would not be getting "any" that night.
He took mercy on me. Isn't he so romantic?
Later as we were going to bed he reminded me that he had been kind. You know...in a hint hint kind of way. I said, "You have got to be kidding me. Your move in cards had nothing to do with my threat. We both know that the only reason you didn't give me that point was because you had a heart and you had to play it."
LG's response: "So, I had a heart, doesn't that count for something?"
"Yeah, I guess it would, if the heart was actually beating and not sitting in your hand having to be played."
Tuesday, September 23, 2008
Monday, September 22, 2008
I knew it was that time of year again when I saw the church sign.
I know you'll all be surprised, but I haven't photographed it yet.
It's along the interstate right after the on ramp, and I am too cautious to stop, and too busy to make an extra trip out of my way to the front side of the building. Although the trip would most definitely be worth it.
The sign reads: God loves a Volunteer.
Knoxvillians are crazy about their UT Vols. Especially during football season.
I'm sure my anonymous Southern die hard will be appalled to hear that I don't even own a piece of orange clothing. I am such an outsider. And it's never more apparent than during football season, when Coach Fulmer reigns, even when his team doesn't win. (which seems to be more often than not lately)
Personally, I love football season. I know that I can finally go to Wal-Mart on Saturday and not have to fight the crowd. EVERYONE is home watching the game. And for that, and for my husband's law degree...I say.....GO VOLS!!!
Sunday, September 21, 2008
Saturday, September 20, 2008
Friday, September 19, 2008
I used to always put the pasta back in the sauce pan and then add the rest of the ingredients in one at a time.
It was horrible.
The bottom would burn and the cheese would be clumpy and the pasta would crumble.
I may not have common sense on my own, but I do know how to watch and learn.
And, trust me when I say that I learned the much more effective method.
Leave the pasta in the colander. Then melt the butter in the empty sauce pan, add the milk and cheese, whisk, and wha -la...it's creamy sauce. Not clumpy or burnt.
And, THEN you add the pasta. And, it won't crumble.
It's as simple as well, should I say it? It's as simple as mac n cheese. And so was this post.
Thursday, September 18, 2008
Wednesday, September 17, 2008
Me: "So girls do you know what you have to do to be able to go to the temple someday?"
Abigail: "Yeah, we have to keep the commandments?"
Me: "So, what exactly are you not supposed to do if you want to be able to go in the temple someday?"
Me: "Well, dad is about to tell you."
LG: "You have to keep the Word of Wisdom, The Law of Chastity, pay your tithing, have a testimony."
Abigail: "What is the law of chastity again?"
LG: You know, it's the law that says you can't have sex until you get married."
Abigail: (embarrassed) "Oh yeah."
LG: "So girls, just don't have sex and no drinking Budweiser, and you'll be worthy to go to the temple someday. Got it?"
Abigail: "What's butt weiser?"
Abigail: "Yeah, that's because you have all these kids now."
Tuesday, September 16, 2008
I would fall madly in love with any boy who could play it on his guitar.
And, I am tired and must go to bed and it was the best thing I found on YouTube for my Tuesday post.
I hope you enjoy.
Monday, September 15, 2008
The anticipation of Mother's Day was slowly putting my husband over the edge. How the man ever buys a satisfactory gift for me with all that intense pressure, I will never know.
On Saturday morning I chuckled inside as he begrudgingly announced that he had some business to tend to and would be home shortly. As he dragged himself out the door, I hollered out, for the twentieth time that week, my short list of things that he could buy for me. I try to help him out like that. That's what mothers are supposed to do and I wouldn't want to shirk my responsibility so close to the holiday, would I?
Less than ten minutes later, he walked in with a good size box under arm. It was all wrapped up. What in the world? He confessed; he had gone to work to pick up the gift that he had really purchased several weeks back. He had been acting worried for two weeks just to increase the surprise.
I gasped for air. Had he really bought me a gift two weeks in advance? I must be getting more special by the minute. Or was I just better looking when I was 8 months pregnant with number three? He never buys Christmas gifts until Christmas Eve; he learned quickly to put off the torture as long as possible. Wow. I couldn't have been more speechless if I had won the Grammy for mothering.
I was in a trance. I sat and I unwrapped. I felt like the luckiest mother alive. And let's keep this between me and you, I was taking my time because I was a bit worried about what he may have picked out all on his own. Ideas were flowing freely into my skeptical brain. What if it was horrid? How would I play it off? The worry lasted for just a second. The picture on the box stole away all of my spousal anxiety and mistrust.
My jaw dropped. If the box was correct, he had purchased my coveted Kitchen Aid mixer. I can't even tell you how many times it was on the long list of gifts to buy! It was the gift at the bottom for another day when we had more funding. It was a gift of such magnitude that it was never on the list that I typically yelled to him while he stomped out the door. How could he have remembered?
When I started to tear up, it was a little more emotion than he was ready for. He quickly explained, "I hope this gift lasts you for the next three years because you probably won't be getting anything else for a while." We would all become law school orphans soon enough.
The gift couldn't have been any more phenomenal. Except maybe if it was a new couch. That is still on the long list. I tore into the box; I couldn't wait to make some homemade rolls; I would finally be free of the torturous duty of kneading. I made a vow, the man would never hear me complain again.
But, wait! What color is that? It's not the same as the picture on the box? It's not the plain old white model. Oh my goodness. Oh my goodness. My eyes did not deceive me. My man had given me the moon and the stars just as promised in those old fairytales. My new mixer was a mixer with a purpose; it made a statement as grand as mine.
My new mixer was the color of my personality. My new mixer was my favorite color that I had never dared to declare. It was red. It was perfect. It was the color that I always described like this, "I don't have a favorite color. I love them all. How could anyone declare a favorite color? All of the colors are beautiful in their own way. Oh, if I had to choose one? Well, I really do love the color red. It would be at the top of my list."
I am sure that LG has given me great Mother's Day gifts over the last ten years, but I can't for the life of me, think of one. How could he top perfection? And not because it was from the long list, but because it was red. He had chosen my favorite color. And it was beautiful. And if his 8 month pregnant wife wasn't beautiful, you could have never convinced her of it. Her husband had reached perfection in the gift giving department. And he did it just for her.
And I am now proud to exclaim my favorite color. When people ask, "What's your favorite color?" I proudly reply. "It's red. My husband chose it for me. It was a mixer. It was red. It was perfect."
Now honey, don't be getting any crazy ideas. A red couch would simply not do the trick for my upcoming birthday. Please keep the couch at the bottom of the long list and don't EVER try to pick me out a couch, o.k.? Really, I want a say in the couch department. I am serious.
Oh, and I love you. And, I love red. And, I love my red mixer. But, I won't love a red couch. Got that?
I will be submitting this to Scribbit's September Write Away Contest. Just for fun. And as my way of saying thanks for the topic.
I want to get this cute little saying on a t-shirt.
I am thinking about doing the Race for the Cure
to celebrate Debbie McFarland.
and I am happy to report that she has beat breast cancer.
And, I must say that her ta ta's are looking as good as ever.
Three cheers for modern medicine.
That may be all it needs to keep on saving those ta ta's.
Sunday, September 14, 2008
Saturday, September 13, 2008
Friday, September 12, 2008
LG: " Girls put your seatbelts on.
Me: "Because you don't want to die if we crash, that's why. Now put them on."
Abigail: "We know mom. You've told us that a million times."
LG: "Yeah, but there's another reason. I was reading a Reader's Digest article the other day and it was talking about people who die in car crashes. 90% die because someone wasn't wearing their seatbelt. And lots of times the person that was wearing their seatbelt died, and the person who wasn't wearing their seatbelt lived. The person who wasn't wearing their seatbelt shot out of their seat like a missile and killed the other person. Wouldn't you feel bad if you killed mom?"
Abigial: "O.k. o.k. I am putting my seatbelt mom. I don't want to missile you."
Me: "I don't want to missile you or miss you either Abigail. Thank you."
And, please, please, teach your kindergartners how to take off and put on their own seatbelts, so that I don't have to wait longer in the school pick up line while you secure your child properly.