Through the baby monitor, my husband and I heard Joseph wake up. I went to get him and said, “So, Joseph, what do you think of Daddy? He’s kind of funny looking, huh? But don’t worry. You get to leave when you’re 18. I’m stuck with him for life!”
My husband pushed the talk button on the receiving end Read the rest of this entry
So, Little Man is one month old today. That leaves two months of the so-called “fourth trimester.”
I get it. I remember when my last child was a baby repeating to myself, Just get to three months. Things will be better after three months.
I’ve also heard this time referred to as the 90 Days of Darkness.
There are good days and bad days. Likewise with the nights. The hard part is, it’s never the same from one day or night to the next. Of course, if they were all bad, I’d not like that much at all. The point is, Read the rest of this entry
by doing a throw-back Thursday post. Though, in truth, many, most, maybe even all, of you weren’t around this long ago, so it may be new to you. This is from four years ago.
While at work on his birthday, a coworker asked my husband how old he was.
“Forty-seven,” my husband said glibly, choosing an age far enough from the truth so as to be an obvious lie.
“Wow, you look good for your age,” the coworker replied. “You don’t look a day over 40!”
“I was joking,” responded my husband drily. “I’m only Read the rest of this entry
Born one week ago today, July 14, at 2:51 a.m. 7.77 pounds (Jackpot, the nurse said) and 20 inches.
Daddy holding his first son.
Son saying, “Wassuuuuupppp??” Read the rest of this entry
Happy 4th of July to my American friends.
I’m overdue to have a baby, as usual. When telling the kids how late they each were, my youngest said of the oldest, “She was a little overdone, but Read the rest of this entry
I was nominated for a Liebster award from facetsofamuse. I don’t do awards, so that means I don’t have to obey the rules of acceptance! I’ll just answer Julie’s questions for kicks.
Do you have a pet? If so, what is it?
We have a Syrian long-haired hamster originally named Rapunzel, now called either Punzi or Punz, for short. She should’ve been named Houdini. She’s great at chewing her way out for night-time prison breaks which general scare the heck out of us when we hear her scratching at the door in the middle of the night. It’s a good thing she’s so cute.
Favorite TV show?
Psych–totally. If you haven’t seen it, you need to remedy that. Like right now. Okay, no wait. Finish reading, liking, and commenting on this post. Then go watch an episode of Psych. There’s a movie coming in December too!
What is one of your pet peeves?
Inconsiderateness. Care about others besides just yourself, people! (And get your shopping cart out of my way.)
Do you have a favorite author? Who and which of their books is your favorite? Read the rest of this entry
I was reading off spelling words to my daughter and asked, “What was the last word I gave you?”
She said, “You gave me grief.”
True story.
Here’s an oldy, but a goody.
With another week of phonics looming, I grabbed the pile of my daughter’s first grade sight words. Here is the pile: On the left is what we’ve done so far. On the right is what we have left to do.
As I picked up the smaller stack to look for next week’s words, these were the three words on top of the pile: Read the rest of this entry
Helping out a blog buddy by advertising her book. Read all about it below and consider supporting her by grabbing yourself a copy!
The story of Twenty-four days:
A former SEAL, a brilliant scientist, a love-besotted nerd, and a quirky AI have twenty-four days to stop a terrorist attack. The problems: They don’t know what it is, where it is, or who’s involved.
I always like a good book about AI. What is AI? Just happen to have an answer: Read the rest of this entry
At the zoo we saw a tiny deer called a pudu. I said to my husband, “How much voodoo would a pudu do if a pudu could do voodoo?”
No doubt it reminded him of how lucky he is to be married to me. Read the rest of this entry
My oldest daughter’s birthday was yesterday. My parents gave her a set of little chicks. (Random? I know.)
Two are missing because they’re in need of repairs. Their wings fell off. I wonder how.
All three girls were playing with them for a bit when I heard my seven-year-old say something that sounded horribly suspicious.
“Here’s your (something starting with an f and ending with -king) chicks.” Read the rest of this entry
Writing and Martial Arts 