wait up, guys.

greetings.

I am in the most beautiful place ever.  My kids are in heaven.  Andy told me yesterday we should tell all the humans about this place.  

So I won't be posting during the next 10 days, except maybe an occasional photo share.  Instead,  I'll be swimming in a creek, hunting for Saskatoon berries, climbing real live mountains, shootin' gophers, riding ATV's (aka golf carts), whackin' weeds, taking pictures, collecting rocks, eating Shreddies and Old Dutch All Dressed chips, trying to get a wicked flip-flop tan to match my sibling counterpart, lovin' the cool breeze, pigging out, climbing hay bails, roasting mallows, and eating candy.  Delicious Canadian Cadbury candy.

With my kids.  I love.

See ya.

i heart bags.

So I'm knee high is boarding passes, i'm hungry's, and gameboy chargers when I decide I want a smaller diaper bag for our trip. silly.

But it's way cute, eh?

tracy's bag

mom's bag

This is my Mom's Mother's Day bag. Yeah, I know, don't rub it in. I'm just a little behind.

Who's behind? Mine.
I'll give you a big virtual high hive if you can guess what movie that's from.

how's it goin, eh?

That's Canadian for what's up.

I'm leaving today, for a two week maple style party in the naked countryside. I will try and post along the way, but the boonies don't welcome high-speed internet, so it may take a while. Quite literally.

However, I have some bags to post for the next three days or so. Starting with this non-bag goodie. I had my airplane bag all packed, but my diaper pocket was just too big and bulky for the streamlined simplicity organizational look I was going for. So I found a scrappy strap in my box of delights, sewed on some velcro and a little button, and there you have it. Cinched up all nice and simple like. I love it.



I'll think of you while I sit on my chesterfield, sipping my Nanton Root Beer, and chewin' on some MacIntosh Toffee. While staring at the galaxies in the cold Canadian evenings. The stars are amazing in those skies.

And we're off...to my home and native land.

i'm in love with fudgie wudgie

So I'm at Sam's Club the other day. It was a desperate trip with all five in the cart, under the cart, hanging on the cart, chasing the cart, eating the cart. I will say something fabulous about Sam's...all their carts are those double seaters now. Suh-weet!! I don't have to drive around the parking lot for 10 minutes and end up in the boonies just to park next to the cart return with the twosie.

Oh, major sidetrack. My apologies.

So I'm at Sam's Club the other day. The trip was going well. As I'm contemplating the stores unfortunate shortage of samples, I turn the corner. What's this? A fancy schmancy confectionary display I have not seen on this corner before. As I steer my cart of squealin' maniacs in front of this enormous eye candy sample stand, I see the words Fudgie Wudgie. And a million golden boxes of deliciousness guarded by an adolescent sample giver.

We partook.

Suddenly everyone in the meat section was moving in slow motion with their hair blowing romantically in the pretend wind. Birds began to chirp sweet songs of amore, from somewhere. So this is love.

Jake decided to spend the $10 he earned pulling weeds (10 cents a weed. Yeah, so what. We got a lotta weeds) to buy his siblings a box of the Orange Creamsicle. I decided to buy Conan a box of the Praline Penuche for our anniversary, pretending to forget he doesn't like fudge.

My shiny box of culinary sin has a special place in my fridge, where I greet it ocassionally with a small fork and tall glass of milk. I want to make the affair last. Hold on, to what we've got. It doesn't make a difference if we make it or not. We've got eachother, and that's all right for love. We'll give it a shot. Whoa....we're half way there. Whoa....livin' on a prayer. Um...I do that sometimes. Bon Jovi has nothing to do with my Fudgie Wudgie, but it's a good song.

Moving on.

The Fudgie Wudgie stand was only there for the weekend. A teaser. The sample boy said Hershey voted them the best fudge. Of...all, I guess. And they're based in Philadelphia. And it's not a chain.

BUT...You can order some here. If you want.

I want.

Double WOO Capital HOO!

This week is sweet. I got another award. Is this bizarro week or what?

(feel the beat on this one) Oh yeah --- uh huh --- I'm doin the roger rabbit.

I got an official super duper honorable mention in the July Scribbit Write Away Contest for the bit about my lack of super-hero tendancies. I win a cool label to display proudly on my sidebar. And a little boost of confidence. How sweet it is.

YIPEE!!

and the best part...Alice did too.

It's nice to share a personal pat on the back with a good friend. I think Ali is an awesome writer, and mom, so that makes this award even sweeter.

Yowza...It's in my blood now...this award thing. I. need. another. one. What's something award worthy I could do for a quick fix...

How 'bout dinner.


check out the judges blog growing a life. i like it.

welcome to my favorite place to wash a happy monkey going crazy so we eat candy.

We painted blocks. Then I did a crazy mad-lib sentence session with the kids and painted a bunch of their words on the blocks. It's fun to watch them put together fun phrases using their own words. We need more blocks, though. There are only so many things you can do with a monkey.

not fried ice cream

My parents used to take us to El Toritos in Denver on special occasions. We'd always get a kid's Shirley Temple and Fried Ice Cream. I remember feeling so cool drinking my fancy drink, and crunchy ice cream. Those two treats definitely have a delicious memory for me. I've tried to find a Fried Ice Cream that would bring those feelings back, but haven't.

So I fake it. Here it is...

4 cups GOLD Frosted Flakes, crushed

2 Tbsp sugar

2 Tbsp melted butter

4 Tbsp corn syrup

2 Tbsp cinnamon

Mix the honey corn flakes with the sugar, butter, syrup & cinnamon. Scoop some vanilla ice cream into a good size ball and roll in the cereal mixture, pressing mixture lightly to coat ball. Place your covered ice cream balls into muffin tins and freeze until ready to serve.

Drizzle with chocolate syrup and a dollop of whipped cream.

I don't have a picture. I eat it too fast.

it's such an honor...

I got an honest to goodness real award. Look at it. It's all shiny and sparkly. I'm blushing about it. Thanks, Nat.

This makes two for me. I got the fastest tp picker-upper award last week. It was a stack of oreos. So grand. It doesn't really count though, because I awarded it to myself for finding the entire un-raveled roll of double-ply and cleaning it all up before kacie even had a chance to notice the toilet clogging playground. This truly was a feat, because she was following me with her "waa waa's" & had her fingers even prying open the door when I swooped it all up. So I gave myself a pat on the back, and a stack of oreos for a crisis averted, and a job well done.

Oh, and I did win the Paula Abdul award at Girl's Camp one year. I'm, uh, not sure what they were implying. I'm short, I dance, and I don't make much sense. Okay. She was cool back then, though. So it was cool.

Not nearly as cool as a blog award. I mean really.

What a great summer.

i have two new favorite books.

When I was in New York, I picked up this book at a Paper Store. Not A Box, by Antoinette Portis. I immediately fell in love its paper bag cover and simple illustrations. The boys can recite the book themselves; it is a perfect comprehension level. And it teaches such a creative lesson on imagination. I love it.

Then we started out the summer with the Book Fair. Mo Willems was there signing books; we caught a very entertaining question & answer session with him. I was fascinated. He is incredibly talented.


Andy has loved his Pigeon books, so we bought one of those to get signed, and we bought this one for Joey.


I am IN LOVE with the Elephant & Piggie series after getting this book. It's illustrations are adorable sketches of characters you'll like right away. You understand each of their personalities and their hilarious relationship as you follow their fun & follies. We laugh out loud when we read this book, and I can't wait to buy more.


I haven't started reading a real book yet. I've got A Wrinkle in Time on my nightstand, but I choose to sleep instead. I promise I'll read, soon. My brain needs some grown up thought processes to chew on.

my momma be good timer

My mother-in-law used to set the oven timer for every 30 minutes, and when it would go off, she'd pray. She had 6 little kids. Incredibly good lookin' twins (the younger the most attractive, btw), a VERY difficult boy who wouldn't share his twizzlers, an extroverted jungle girl, a cute foot massager named Fleshy, and a fuzz lovin' baby boy with food allergies.

So she prayed every 30 minutes.


I got myself a timer. It's on my fridge, where most of the chaos takes place, but I can take it with me if I want. On a quiet day, I let it sit on my fridge and just partake of the stillness. But on a regular work day it's scheduled for every 50 minutes.

When I hear it's bell, I pray, whatever I'm doing, however mad or tired I am. I thank Him for my children; I ask for patience & humility; and invite Him again to be my companion in that moment. And other stuff.

Sometimes, instead of praying, I take a minute to tell a child something wonderful I've noticed about them, or just to reconfirm how much I love them. I can see a difference in their behavior and in their treatment towards one another when I do this; and definitely a difference in my own behavior and attitude. Tantrums seem more tolerable. Messes more managable. My job enjoyable.

These frequent petitions remodel my view, and sharpen my focus. A brief snap back to understanding who my children are, and what I am to them. They have become an acute reminder of where my mind should be. Frustration and exhaustion lift.

And I can see. Clearly. For a moment.

Then of course the distractions come. I wanna's and I don't wanna's get the attention. Fear sneaks some control. And I forget a little.



Until the bell rings again.

sabotage

My frig-ee lock mysteriously disappeared about a week ago.

Nowhere to be found. A victim of foul play, I could only assume.



Suspicion confirmed. I found it...buried in the mulch.

no more naked dining room

I never really liked dining rooms. I thought they were a poor use of space, stuffy, and I'd rather have a music room or something. I'm all about the breakfast nook.

However...I finally gave up the piano room idea when I found this beautifully distressed REAL LIVE piece of solid furniture I plan to keep forever. I like to look at it.

Our table has stood alone for a while now, because real live chairs cost as much as childbirth. I'm lucky to have become the grateful recipient of Chairs With Character, and a bench, from generous donors. I now have a full fledged adult table with places to sit. I feel so grown up.

My favorite are the chairs I didn't have enough fabric to recover the entire pad of , so I improvised. I really like how they turned out. They add a little whimsy so it's not a "stuffy" space.

Then I covered some styrofoam balls with strips of fabric and modge podge for a fun fake centerpiece. Messy, but fun. Of course they end up everywhere but on the table. I found a couple in the fridge with the apples a while ago. Which is when I realized my frigee lock was MIA.

I'm looking for a bright old sideboard and an equally awesome farmhouse looking mirror. Then, I can officially appreciate the beauty of eating in a creative space. Far away from the dishwasher.

mom tag

Normally I'm too lazy for tags, but Andrea's intrigued me. I was interested to know what my kids think of me. I picked Andy, because he is painfully honest.

1. What is something mom always says to you? Please don't. And clean up the bonus room. It's my turn to do computer.

2. What makes mom happy? Of cleanin' up the bonus room.

3. What makes mom sad? Of not cleanin' up the bonus room.

4. How does mom make you laugh? Of sayin funny things. And doing funny things.

5. What was mom like as a child? I don't know!

6. How old is mom? I don't know!

7. How tall is mom? I still don't know! I still don't know, mommy!

8. What is mom's favorite thing to do? Sorry mom. But I don't know. Darn. Another one.

9. What does mom do when you're not around? Look for me.

10. If mom becomes famous, what will it be for? A hundred thousand dollars. Is that a real number?

11. What is mom really good at? Anything. And taking care of our sleeping stuff.

12. What is mom not good at? TV Games. (i always kill mario)

13. What is mom's job? Of making stuff.

14. What is mom's favorite food? Rice. And chicken. And meatloaf. (um. no)

15. What makes you proud of mom? Of doin' what I say.

16. What do you and mom do together? Play. And do stuff, and build.

17. How are you and mom the same? When I'm old like you.

18. How are you and mom different? Of when I'm smaller than you.

19. How do you know mom loves you? Because, I hear you say that. Am I right?

I tag Katie, because Calvin is hilariously candid.

twoo wuv

This was going to be the movie game prize, with the winner's name of course. I thought LeGrand might already have a lot of cutesy love prints in his office, so he gets fritos. However, I decided to make it anyways and give it to myself. Aren't we a cute couple?

It's our anniversary. Eleven.

movie game. blah blah.

LeGrand guessed it, via Alice. Princess Bride.

way to go, LeGrand. woo capital hoo. you win a bag of fritos.


new rule. no way smart lawyers are allowed to play.
my next clue was really good. but that's okay. i'm happy for you and your fritos.



BTW...Conan was just being nice to me by not guessing it.

i don't know why i expect snacks to actually be eaten.

The Sandberg Sisters.

I moved a lot. I made friends, and left them. And I'm not good at keeping touch. Some friends I love and miss, some friends were cool but no big deal, and then there are friends you know will be forever.

The Sandberg sisters.

I moved to Ohio an angry teenager. I came from a cool Canadian high school, who had different ideas of fashion and other important adolescent social behaviors. I made some friends that didn't really fit, then realized I wanted to be friends with Cherstin, the girl from church.

BFF about covers it. She and her sister Natalie made Ohio home. They were the friends that would check for boogers. The kind you could discuss your period with. You know the kind. They made me comfortable with me. No masks, no stories. I could be totally me. And they still loved me.

Cherstin took care of me. She validated me any way she could. We shared clothes and secrets, and protected eachother. She loved music as much as me. We'd all sit at the piano and just sing. But mostly do nothing. We loved doing nothing. In her green bug.

Natalie was (and is) stronger than snot. She wouldn't ever hestiate about her opinions or preferences. She asked guys out. She made the first move. She got what she wanted. The girl had guts. I was always inspired by her gumption and confidence.

They had boyfriends. I didn't. So I just hung out with them on their dates, and if I wasn't invited I'd just wait for them to come home. One time I was actually asked out on a date, and when we got back to my house Cherstin was on my couch watching Newsies. Waiting for me to come home. I loved it, but the guy was mad. He said, "I can't date you cause I'd have to date Cherstin, too." Didn't hurt my feelings much. I was glad she was there.

I don't have many pictures...how sad.

I have at least a good 20 million perdiddles saved on the roof of that bug.

Thank you gorgeous mommas, for saving me.

I want us to hang out in a cool cabin and drink lots of hot chocolate, and go for walks, and talk about how totally mature we were, and just do nothing.

And go to the mall to try on snazzy dresses.

I love you.

fields of gorgeous...

Conan and I were talking recently about where we would want to move if we had to. I said Oregon but didn't get that big of a response from my other half. But after this recent post and out-of-this-world gorgeous photo by Sandi Henderson, it's official.

I want to run through these flowers with the wind blowing my hair in slow motion, and as I look back with that flirty sophistication, I fall ever so gracefully ('cause it's in the script). Conan lands next to me and we lay there in a blanket of bliss (oooh, that's cheesy good) and talk about our future together, and our fields of gorgeous. (as Sandi so appropriately named this photo)

Because that's what they do in Oregon.

movie game.

WOO capital HOO! Conan and I played some good ones on our double road trip, so my brain is full of 'em. We have different opinions on scoring, but I think I won. Just kidding, Conan won. Big surprise and big whoop. We both had some good ones though, so buckle up! (Good heavens, that was lame.)

I'm proud of this one. Knowing you guys, you'll guess it before I can pat myself on the back. But Conan didn't get it, so I have a sense of accomplishment already.

Here's it is...

lost love found. then fought for.

Oooh. It's a goodie.

So leave your guesses in the comments. If nobody gets it right by Friday, I'll give you another clue. Three clues in all. First one to guess it right wins a prize.

lotsa beach photos

relax. breathe. take a picture. find the culprit.

"Uh...what? Where's your counterpart?!"

I found him in my closet, hiding behind my deodorant.

There are 50 million creams and pastes squeegied ALL OVER my bathroom. He has learned harsh pronunciation of the phrase "Big Trouble" today.

You don't get a picture of the mess because I'm still mad at it.

I'm not sure how many scrubs Kacie ingested this morning, but there are a lot of empty bottles with no sign of their contents.


Geesh.

darn. i left my boots in the batmobile.

So there I was. Bouncing the Froot Loops of Fury off of my fancy wrist bands of invincibility, wondering where my League of Justifications were, when the crumbs under my naked feet reminded me...

I left my boots in the Batmobile.

How will this super-momma ever rid the world of all that's evil and unfair without her sexy red boots?

After whining about the impending doom and destruction, the chocolate syrup serenade on my clean kitchen floor snapped me back. The art of saving humanity must go on. With or without the hot outfit. Bruce will bring my boots home with the milk.

Silly. Silly Super Hero. You're only as good as your costume.

The sharp realization is, I'm not Wonder Woman, like the underoos had convinced me so long ago. Uh...duh.

As validating as it would be, Super Hero status doesn't come in the can with Motherhood.

My Lasso of Truth is...I'm only as beautiful as the day I get to shower with shampoo and wear a shirt with buttons; only as wise as the great idea I stole from the perfect mom I found during a good link session, who I just assume is awesome because she only posts the awesome stuff, as it should be; I'm only as swift as the diaper-of-nastiness being unlawfully tossed onto the tropical popsicle stained carpet; and I'm only as strong as the double ply Bounty I keep in my fanny pack. I really can be rinsed and re-used.

I yell. I don't do it right, according to whoever gets to decide that. I change my mind mid-consequence. My super kicks are about as high as your shin splints. I don't even have the nutrition triangle hanging on my fridge. In fact, I've added a level for vanilla wafers right between the cheesesticks and the canned peaches.

And the bad guys make me cry.

I realize Lex Luthor is just a sad bitter man because his mom made him eat sweet potatoes. His buddies, Dr. Doubt and Captain Comparison have issues, too. Probably with broccoli. But they put up a good fight.

I wonder...

How am I supposed to kick evil's rear without the fancy magic bracelets? Do I scold or re-direct? Why doesn't my anti-frizz mousse anti-frizz? Does the 30 cents I save not buying the fancy tinfoil really matter in the realm of Budgetdom? What exactly does High Fructose do to your guts?

Then there's that villanous marvel shot at the super mom down the street...How does she do it? The answer is, she doesn't. She just wears the sexy red boots.

It's only a costume.

Wonderful Women.

Without fancy bracelets.

Unite.

scribbit write-away contest.

can i please be a photgrapher in my next life? please?

No joke. I love photography. I go goo-goo when I find awesome pics.

Like these. LindsayJane Photography.

I knew Lindsay before she moved out to Utah forever ago. She is now a super-duper successful real life photographer. And a darn good one. I haven't seen her forever, and just found her blog after a good linkin' session. I linked right to her. Surprise.

Her photos make me want to do two things. Okay three things. Buy an expensive camera and pretend I can do that. Get married again so I can have pictures like that. And spend lots of money for pictures of my family, like that.

And then there are these by my cousin's wife, Becky.

I'd like to have the sunset photo blown up in my bedroom. Of me and Conan, of course. Romantic, eh?

Gee whiz. Photo Envy.

quick vacation log

We drove to Gulf Shores, Alabama.

Stopped in Clanton to buy a basket of peaches;

I had visions of the kids sitting on the edge of the ocean eating delicious juicy peaches;

hoping to create a taste of the beach.

We stayed in a cabin at Gulf STate Park.
It was old and smelled like it.
Next time we're going with a new fancy cottage.
The seclusion from high rise Tourist-Land was peace, though.

We were right on the lake, swimming with the alligators;
two minutes from a good day with white sand, waves,
and the Gulf lovin' jellyfish.

We played on the beach for two days.
Peaches and sand don't like eachother.

Drove around and looked at fancy pants beach houses
& picked the ones we wouldn't stay in.

And taught the kids to play Settler's of Catan. Dani won.

Friday night we spent the evening on the shore and watched the sun go down.
Then when it was black, we watched fireworks off the coast.

Andy, Joey, and Kacie slept through it.

Then we drove home.

Memories, made.