I SAID GO OUTSIDE!!!!

Why is it so hard to get my kids to play outside today?  It's a tad windy, but the temps are in the high 50's.  

Did they forget that we bought this place so they could grow up wallowing in the dirt and becoming one with nature?  Yes, I think they did.  The long winter has damaged their little brains and they forgot that being outside can be something other than an intermittent discomfort of cold icy blasts that we endured from the van to the house.

For the love of MOTHER NATURE GO OUTSIDE!!!

I said, GO OUTSIDE!  Do you want to take a nap?  No, you don't.  No, you don't.  You never want to take a nap.  Okay never mind, you can't take a nap, GO OUTSIDE!  If you sneak back in this house one more time I'm going to lock all the doors until next November and you'll have to eat, drink, poop and pee outside!  NO, you may not poop outside, unless I lock you out of the house!  No, I'm not really going to lock you out, I was just exaggerating.  Exaggerating means to make a story bigger than it is.  Are you going to go outside now?  Yes, you have to stay out there longer than the count to twenty.  Don't count anymore, just stay out until I tell you to come in.  Yes, I'll let you come in to poop.

Murray did ja know?

So, we're back up and running again, thanks to my incessant complaining and a teensy weensy bit of whining and let's not forget the public humiliation that I am capable of producing with just a quick little tap on the keys of my computer.

Let's go back a bit and recap what you've missed around here.  Like, the boys singing the beloved Mary Did You Know song.

Musty Santa

Mom, what's a musty Santa?

What?  

What's a musty Santa?

Musty Santa????

(then I hear in the background the song Must Be Santa)

Bob the Apple

Let's bob for apples, shall we?

Ike, you go first.

Seth, wanna give it try?  C'mon get your head in there, don't be shy.

Atta girl!  Way to dunk that head!

Honey,  I only have four apples, put it back and let the kids play....yes, I see you got an apple, now put it back.

Double dunkin'

This kid.  This kid right here, I love him.  He can't take a bath without a towel within reach to wipe away a drip of water from his face, but when it comes to bobbing for apples, he's hard core.  He tried so dang hard to get that apple.  He was coughing and sputtering, risking his life to get one of his teeny-tiny baby teeth hooked into the waxy flesh of one Gala apple.  He was not giving in to the fear, he would not cry "UNCLE!"  He wanted that apple, he was not stopping until he got it.
With one glorious nip, one tiny puncture, he nabbed that apple.  He was so happy that he started to squeal and promptly dropped that apple right back to its watery birth.

This IS my happy face!

These are things I've actually said to my children.  My children are humans, just so you know, I sometimes have to remind myself.

1. Don't lick me.

2. Is that poop on the floor?

3. What's that smell, is it you or your brother?

4. Stop licking me.

5. You do not spit on the carpet!

6. Why does your room smell like barf?

7. Who cut the hole in the curtain?  Who?

8. I said STOP licking me!

9. Only one person can talk to me at a time?  NO, just one.  OKAY, EVERYONE HUSH!

10. PLEASE!  Stop licking me!

11. Where are your socks?  Where are your shoes?  Where is your backpack?  Where is your brain?  

12. If you don't find your shoes you can't come with me.  No, you may not wear your muddy rubber boots.  No, you may not wear your sister's shoes, or mine, or your dads.

13.  FINE!  Just get your boots and get in the van!

14.  If you lick me one more time I'm gonna....gonna...just please stop licking me, honey.

15. No, I'm not mad, this is just the way I look.  I am not making a mad face, this is just my normal face.  OKAY, NOW I'm mad!  Go AWAY!  AND STOP LICKING ME!!!

Toys Find New Home

A few weeks ago a neighboring subdivision was have a HUGE GARAGE SALE!!! Are they really selling huge garages? I also like signs that advertise HUGE Multi-Family Sale! I wonder what a multi-family is going for these days.

Anyway, I went to the HUGE GARAGE SALE!! To see if anyone might be selling a really cute dresser to put in my boys room. We drove through the curvy wooded drives checking out the junk, the rif-raf, the discards that people wish you would pay for, the damaged goods and the mid 80's decor in mauve, beige and gray. I was just about ready to offer people my truck to haul their crap to the dumpster when we located a heaven on earth for boys.


An older woman sat reading a book, sitting beside her were several Rubbermaid containers full of joy. One container had nothing put Playmobile, another full to the brim with Legos and the last one was all Lord of the Rings action figures. She had a table full of PlayStation games and on the ground laid roller blades and baseball gloves. Every item was in pristine condition. I was afraid to ask her what had happened to the children that these wonderful and obviously expensive toys belonged to. She must have seen the concern on my face because she offered up that her only child, a son, was now 16 and had outgrown these toys.


My 11yo son was with me and I let him choose what he wanted to bring home. We are now the proud owners of a bunch of Lord of the Rings characters and a new PlayStation game. I was the greatest mom in the world for bringing those toys home and now they are spread all over my house, being utterly destroyed.....as all good toys should.


The one toy in the box that I could have lived without is this one...

But why April? It looks like a glob of spinach around an egg. What's so wrong with that?

Well, it's not spinach, but egg might be sort of correct.

It's the birth of an Ork thingy. And it wins the title "Creepiest Toy Ever Made".

Of course my boys love it. Well, they love it until their sister makes blueberry buckle. What does that have to do with a gross toy? Everything. You see the gross birth-of-a-demonic-creature toy was sitting on the kitchen counter when my 5yo begged to have a helping of his sister's homemade yummy dessert.

Only when he saw the blueberry buckle and the toy side by side.....they sort of looked similar, and then he couldn't bring himself to eat any of that buckle. I must say I had a hard time stomaching it too.

Wise words to live by.

You can either do it with a happy heart or a stingin' butt.~ said by April to one of her children.

April Baby

This big red headed kid was born 11 years ago, four days before my birthday. His due date was April Fool's day and I prayed to God that he would come sooner.

I had quit my job at the animal hospital and plunged back into college courses full time. I entrusted my slightly eclectic next door neighbor with my then two year old daughter. This woman had twelve gigantic Sam's sized jars of Desitin in her garage, because you never want to be without butt ointment.

I was hoping that the baby would come in March during spring break, then I would have a couple days to recover and not miss any classes. But, he didn't want to come that soon. Like all my babies he came out well done. In fact he was so well done, that the nurse, doctor and my sister all yelled, "OH MY GOD!" He was just so fat. He looked like a four month old and filled up the hospital's acrylic bassinet. When I went down to the nursery to stare through the glass at my new beautiful baby, an older couple was standing by me and said, "Wow! That's one big baby, I feel sorry for his mom, that must have been painful!" I smiled and said, "Yes, it was."

In fact it was so painful that I screamed loud enough to scare a group of administrators that were scheduled to tour the delivery ward. They decided to postpone their visit for a quieter time. Later, some of the nurses came in to thank me.

Less than 24 hours after his birth I was home. I hated being in the hospital and I needed to get back to my studies. I missed one crucial exam in my psychology class and I really didn't want to drop the test and have it affect my grade. I begged my husband to take me and our newborn son up to campus for a scheduled study session so I could ask the professor to let me take the test. It was a very weird scene, but it played out in my favor. The professor was a man in his mid fifties and held fast to his rules. I kindly asked to schedule a time that I could take the test. His reply was, "No, I've explained that you can drop that test." I took a breath and pointed to my husband holding our baby, "I just had a baby and I need to take this test. I tried to have him over spring break, but he wouldn't come. I really don't want to drop this grade." and then the hormones took over and I started to cry, "Please. I've studied really hard and I'm ready to take the test. My doctor wouldn't let me come home any sooner....sniff, boo-hoo, sniff..I, I really need to...". The poor man was so uncomfortable,"Of course, take the test anytime. You just go home and get some rest. Take your time, it's okay." My husband escorted me back to our car and I cried all the way home and then had an hysterical laughing fit for how ridiculously pathetic I must have looked and then cried again.

I spent the last six weeks of that semester toting my newborn son to every class. I'd nurse him in the back row of the lecture auditoriums and change his diaper in the student union. I'd stay up til two or three in the morning cradling him over my shoulder while memorizing the human nervous system. It was quite an experience. Funny thing is I can't remember much about the classes I took. I know I took calculus, chemistry, biology, anatomy, speech and some other classes, but I don't remember what I learned. It's just a big blur.

I decided that I didn't want to go back to school the next fall. I looked at my two little kids and decided my future was going to be spent learning how to be the best mom I could for them. I was so grateful not to be working or going to school that life seemed pretty blissful. I had a sweet little two year old girl and a gigantic red headed boy. Life was good.

The Next Generation

I often think about what my children will become when they grow up. What occupation they will choose. I'm fairly certain my daughter will do something with her hands and the earth. She really wants to live on a farm and be surrounded by animals. Gee, wonder where she got that idea? I told her she would have to find herself a farmer to marry. Maybe we need to send her to K-State or Nebraska for college.

As for my 11yo, well I think he might become a computer geek-tech or a fantasy novelist. He does both quite well now, but he insists that he wants to be a carpenter or a missionary, which are fine occupations. He can build me a house when he's done building all the schools and hospitals and housing for the orphans in third world countries.

Now my 5yo and my 2yo are going to need to work together. I'm thinking with the negotiation skills and compliant nature of my 5yo that he would make a great lawyer and an even better judge. Those are his only choices. Why? Because my 2yo will most likely be incarcerated and he's going to need good representation and a forgiving man with a gavel.

You think I'm kidding but, I'm not. That toddler learned how to start the car yesterday, by himself. Sure he was using the keys, but it won't take him long to figure out how to hot wire it. I have to lock the van and hide the keys now, I just hope I remember where I put them.

Before he's arrested for auto theft he'll most likely be put on probation for vandalism to public property. He's already begun using his skin as a canvas for a black sharpie marker but he's branching out to the leather chair and incorporating the color red from an ink pen. Oh, the talent, he's pure genius.

He's also honed his petty theft skills. I play a little game with him called, "find where I hid the gum". I put it on top of the refrigerator, but that was child's play. Then I hid it on the top shelf of the junk cabinet behind the cat dewormer. He had more trouble with this because the temptation to open the dewormer and pour it over the tools, keys, buttons, coins, paper clips, rubber bands and old receipts was too much. I didn't catch him in the act, but he left such a trail of evidence that I had to set him down, while he was chewing his gum, and have a stern talking to him about not taking the bait and being more careful around booby-traps. He's still young, he has time to learn.

I'm trying to steer him away from violent crimes that may land him in the slammer. I've told him to get his aggressions out now on his oldest brother who is bigger and stronger and can take the pain and needs to have some experience with violence if he's going to be in the carpenter's union and he doesn't want to hurt his other brother, because after all, that brother is the judge.

Look at my little mud lover.

Lookeee what I did with Picasa2. I'm still figuring it out. If you stopped by earlier I had a post with pictures, except none of the pictures showed up. I know, I know, some of us aren't as quick to learn as others.....sigh.

I curse muddy shoes and baseball!

After I had a terse conversation with my two oldest sons and my husband about taking off their
Godblessamerica muddy shoes before they come in the house and threatening to put a couch, t.v. and all of them on the front porch to live out the remainder of their days so they can contentedly wear their Godblessamerica muddy shoes wherever they darn well please.....

I see my husband walking across the muddy yard in his white socks and then entering the house!

Me- What are you doing?!

Him- (startled) Uh? What?

Me- You have on your socks!

Him- Well, you made me take off my shoes and I didn't have time to put them back on. Have you seen my baseball cap?

Me- Why?

Him- I have to take Seth to baseball practice.

Me- Are you taking Ike?

Him- No, I won't have time to watch him.

Me- You are not the coach.

Him- Uh, yeah, I'm one of them.

Me-No, your not.

Him- Honey, don't be difficult. Look, I'm taking my muddy shoes with me and did I tell you that you have on pretty shoes? They make you look pretty.

Me- They look pretty because they aren't muddy!

The Broom and I

I fired my cleaning service. Not really, but saying it that way makes me feel powerful. They came twice a month and it was so wonderful. But, never again, or at least not until I'm desperate.

I'm desperate. Come back cleaning ladies, come back!

My children outnumber me four to one. I can only sweep my kitchen floor twenty times a day before I decide it's just a stupid waste of energy. I can only yell and bark orders so many times before I just give up and hide in the office hoping when I come out the house will be in order and smelling fresh.

Uncle! Mercy!

To make myself feel better I'm writing a list of what I plan to do to my children's homes when I visit them, which will be often and for several weeks at at time.

1. I will pee all over the toilette seat and heck maybe on the floor and if I'm still agile enough I'll aim some at the wall and I will never flush the toilette, ever or wash my hands.

2. I'm going to spill every beverage I'm handed on the countertop and then to be helpful I'll use every paper napkin available to clean it up, but leave the soggy napkins on the countertop to dry therefore gluing themselves to the counter.

3. I'll drop my clothes in the bathroom, the living room, the kitchen, the foyer, the porch, the basement and leave a few socks in their car.

4. I'm going to pack the largest suitcase I can find with five bazillion Legos. I will drop Legos in the toilette, the sink, put some in the fireplace, sprinkle them in the yard, chuck a few in the garage and then like a flower girl I will promenade through the house and lightly dust every room with a covering of colorful plastic, oh the glee.

5. I will bring with me an entire tube of toothpaste and on the last day I'm at their house I will brush my teeth and then smear toothpaste in the sink on the floor, the mirror, the tub and I'll rub some in the carpet with my foot and then toss the empty tube in a drawer without the cap.

6. I will take all their DVDs and CDs and put them in the wrong cases, and leave a few empty.

7. I'll hide all their remotes and cordless phones.

8. I'll go into their closets and try on all their shoes and then throw them out of the closet when I'm done.

9. I'll open every packaged food item and then leave it open and place it precariously on the edge of the shelf in the pantry so when they open the door the bag will tip out and spill the entire bag of chips, cheerios, nuts, pretzels and what have you all over the floor.

10. I will use every towel they own.

11. I will offer to sweep up some of the spilled pantry items and then dump the dustpan into their car.

12. I'll hold a handful of Hershey kisses in my hands until they're all nice and gooey and then I will finger paint the windows, just cuz.

13. I'll stand in one spot, preferably their bedroom and hold the trigger of a full can of wretched smelling Lysol until it fizzes out, leaving the fumes to cascade around the room for days.

14. I'll offer to do their laundry and then dump it all in their closet.

15. I'll hide half eaten Oreo cookies under all the couch cushions.

16. I'll accidentally break one precious thing or maybe two.

17. I'll smear honey on all the door knobs.

18. I'll cry, whine and act sick if they ask me to help clean up.

19. I'll beg for all my friends to come over when I've got the house looking really ripe.

20. I'll look around and swear repeatedly that the house doesn't look that messy.

and then I'll line them up, give them a hug, a kiss and wave goodbye, until next time....

A book should follow soon after my death

I found an envelope sweetly decorated lying on the top of the stairs that said, 'Open right away!'. Inside was a colorful hand decorated card. Inside the card was a typed poem.

My Mom
Her hair is blond her eyes are blue
She is soft and kind only on the best of days
The other days she is a whirling twirling Major wind storm

She's a master at making you Guilty
Even if it's about the smallest thing
Maybe the reason for all her yelling is the treats she receives afterwards

It began with an Enormous heart shaped pillow
Next it was breakfast ready on the table
Which was quickly moved to the bed
Even a surprise mini party

We will never know exactly
but we do know that these special treats
usually only take place on Tuesday, Wednesday and Thursday

I think the book about me written by my children will be on the shelves the day after I take my last breath.

April, be quiet.

This morning as I was driving my daughter to take her mid-term exams I was singing along with a Leann Rimes song. Just to make it more fun, I decided singing the song with a really bad Spanish accent.

"HOW WOULD I LEEEEEVE WIT-OUT CHOOOU? IF CHOOOOU ONLY KNEW. BABY I WOULD DO ANYSING. DA Da lee dooo laa la loooooo (this is where I insert my own little twist on the song because I don't know all the words).

I was having a really good time. It's a new day, the sun is shining, I was happy, what could possibly bring me down?

I glanced over at my daughter and noticed she was sitting up straight in her seat staring out the front window. Normally, she would be staring at me either laughing or rolling her eyes while shaking her head in amazement at how incredibly talented I am. I know she wishes she was even half as cool as me, but with her father's genes I don't think it's possible.

"So, are you ready? Huh? Ya ready? Ya ready?" I questioned her.

"I'm trying to study in my head, but you're being so loud! Sheesh!" was her exasperated reply.

"Oh, sorry." I turned off the music and deflated. The rays of colorful light that had been emitting from my inner being dissipated into a fine mist and were sucked out through the ventilation system.

"Do you know how to say, 'I love you Mom' in Latin?" I sheepishly asked.

"Yes. Te Amo Mater." she said smiling at me.

When we pulled into the parking lot she didn't want to go into the building quite yet. I asked her if she wanted to pray. So I held her hand and we asked God to help her remember everything she had been studying and thanked Him for the opportunity to learn and some other things. Then she gave me a few hugs and a kiss and off she went.

As I sped away I turned up the music and then decided it wasn't as much fun to sing really loud in a Spanish accent without an audience, so I turned off the radio and had a nice little chat with myself about an old dilapidated house that sits downtown. I must say, it was quite a nice conversation.

Little Stinky Monkey Head

I wanted to write a post about what a stubborn, skunk my two year old has been. I wanted to show you a bunch of pictures of him screaming and throwing his giants fits. I wanted you all to feel my pain, but all his pictures look a lot like this one. I think you all would think I was lying. Little poop-head.

Validation that I'm doing an okay job.

Ike-"Mom, do you know who I'm in love with?"

"No", geesh, isn't he too you for this?

Ike- "God"

"Do you know that you are the sweetest little boy in the whole wide world?"

Ike- "Yes"

I must be doing something right.

My Desirae

Friday night I took my daughter shopping. She is so amazing. I often look at her and wonder how on earth is she turning out to be such an incredible person with me as her mother??? Honestly, she is the girl I always looked up to. Why, that would make her Desirae Henderson!

Desirae was this smart, sweet, buck-toothed girl that I grew up with. She always did the right thing. She studied hard, she practiced her piano, she made friends easily, she wore simple clothes but always looked cute, she loved people and showed her loved to others with pure genuine Christian spirit. She loved her family and was respectful and obedient to her parents. She was good at everything she tried and she made you want to be a better person. Now, I have my very own Desirae living in my house!

As we stepped into the mall Ellen noticed all the teenagers loitering. She looked at me and rolled her eyes and made some sort of gagging noise about all the kids there. She even wondered why so many young kids were there without their parents.

We bought some skirts and then found a store with much better buys and she happily agreed to return the other skirts so we could save some money. She by-passed trendy clothes and picked out plain t-shirts and a polka-dotted skirt.

We sat in the food court and ate Japanese food. We talked and laughed and even made fun of each other. I called her "Metal Mouth" and she called me "Zit Chin" we bantered back and forth calling out our physical discrepancies while gasping at the shrewdness. I love that she can make fun of herself and me.

We called home and everyone was sleeping. We went to the book store and sat in front of the antiquity books and thumbed through some classics, finally purchasing Virgil's Aeneid that she needed for school.

We bought coffee and sneaked it into the 10:30 showing of The Astronaut Farmer. We were the only people in the theatre. I told Ellen that I had rented the place out just for us.

On the way home she said, "Thanks Mom", but I should have thanked her for being such an incredible girl. For being My Desirae.

Lovely Things

When we went to Colorado, this was the view out of the front of our cabin. It was breathtakingly beautiful.



My two oldest took a brief break from going down the slopes to take a picture with me and their little brother. See the bag my 5 year old is holding? I had to go buy him a toy because I accidentally threw away a cup that his dad told him he could save as a souvenir.....a paper coffee cup.

Could they get any cuter? Look at those little skis! He did such a good job skiing.....after we put him in a class.


Ike turned five last month. I love that I captured his surprise opening up his gift. It was a light saber!

On his cake he wanted everbody....so, Ellen drew all of us on his cake. He wants me to put a picture of him on my birthday cake, I said okay, cuz who wouldn't want this face on a cake?

Our Christmas card, story, hoopla...

One year in Sunday school I made an advent wreath. It was constructed of a Styrofoam hoop, colorful felt, gold tinsel and birthday candles. My mother humored me and placed it in the center of our coffee table. Each week leading up to Christmas my mom would let me light one of the candles and then quickly blow it out, since its burn time was probably less than a minute. But, to me, blowing the candle out immediately after lighting it wasn’t really enough fanfare and didn’t do my beautiful piece of art any justice. After all I’d spent at least twenty minutes pouring glue on it.

One evening, after the celebratory lighting and snuffing of the advent candles, my mother shuffled my sister and me off to take a bath. As we were soaking and having fun my parents came in to say they were off to their bowling league. They gave us strict instructions to finish cleaning up and get straight to bed.

I’ll pause here in my story while you all contemplate that… and I will end your thoughts with, those were different times. I also didn’t have a car seat or a bike helmet.

When I knew the coast was clear and my parents were well on their way to the Bowladium I made my move. Naked as a Jaybird, I streaked back into the living room and gave my advent wreath one last lighting. I paused to reflect upon the beauty of the tinsel glittering from the tiny flames and then remembered I was cold and fled back to the warmth of the bathtub.

My sister and I splashed and made Santa beards with the bubbles until the odd smell of charcoal began to fill the bathroom. We sniffed, we pondered, we splashed some more and then we panicked. The Advent wreath!!! Great horrors! We slipped and slid across the tile floor and then dripping wet we sprinted across the avocado green shag carpet to see the center of the coffee table smoldering.

My precious advent wreath had completely disintegrated. We ran to the kitchen and grabbed the necessary tools; a metal spatula and a can of Pledge dusting spray. We took turns scraping the charred circle while the other would run around the living room spraying Pledge into the air in attempts to mask the smell of smoke and charred furniture. We did this until the can of Pledge was empty and we came to the realization that the coffee table was ruined, my Advent wreath was gone and we were cold, tired and naked.

I went to bed that night feeling miserable. I knew there would be a punishment. My imagination ran wild with the endless torture that my parents would surely bestow upon me. Slowly, I drifted off into a troubled sleep.

Later that night, I awoke to a warm hand touching my back and a kind voice saying my name. I sat up to see my mother’s lovely face. I immediately began to cry, I was so repentant and so guilt ridden. I don’t remember ever receiving any kind of punishment for that horrific crime; I just remember we never had another advent wreath in our house, ever. And that’s when we started having a babysitter on bowling league nights.


Breakin' it down for the Fam...

Ellen is 13. More than once this year we have bought the same shirt from a store. I’m not sure if that means I’m dressing like a teenager or that she’s dressing like a, uh, um, 25 year old. Yes, I was only 12 when I had her, isn’t that obvious? Anyway, my sweet little girl is catching up with me quickly in size and wisdom, not to mention sarcasm. She started taking a couple classes at Wildwood Christian School and has enjoyed the social aspects and the new challenges that being taught by someone other than her mom brings.

Seth is 10. His geography teacher wrote on his report card, “Seth contributes interesting comments to class discussions! He is well mannered and friendly with his fellow students.” I can only imagine what he contributes, but I know that he brings a daily dose of whacko to my world. One day during school he brought me to complete exasperation, as I laid my head down on the table he gently patted my head and sighed, “Don’t worry Mom, you won’t have to homeschool me forever.” Thank God for that and for Seth, who makes me think about things that hopefully will never have any relevance to my life.

Isaac just turned five, but if you ask him how old he is he’ll say seven or six or four. Any number but five and it’s not because he doesn’t know, it’s just to get you going. Which is all fun and games until the Pediatrician starts quizzing him and he decides to not only tell the Dr. he doesn’t know his ABC’s or how old he is, but that his little brother doesn’t know how to talk. We left that appointment with a lot of information for Parents as Teachers and were strongly suggested to have them visit us soon.

Levi is two. God help us.

Clay has again managed to coach every sport his children play. He can’t help but be involved and feels anguished if he ever misses a game or, heaven forbid, a practice. He took up hunting this year. He came home weary, cold and empty handed, but had a lot of fun holding his new gun while sitting on a tiny metal shelf nailed to a tree for the good part of a day.

We said goodbye to two loved ones this year. Clay’s mother, Susan Lovett, passed away in May. We hung many of her Christmas ornaments on our tree this year and it’s nice to have things to remember her sweet Southern style. The Lord finally gave peace to my Grandpa Herb a couple weeks ago. He was the best Santa I’ve ever known. My mind is crowded with found memories of him. We miss them both.

And then there’s me. I continue to search high and low for a place that we can call “ours”. It’s a bit like an addiction; I have to follow the path of every For Sale sign, surf the web and call about the price of land. Surely, someday soon we’ll find “IT”, and when that day comes I may need to join House Hunters Anonymous. I’m still sharing a bit of my world on my blog. We’ve raised a beautiful flock of chickens this year. We’ve had fun learning that chickens are not as dumb as we think and they poop more than I could ever explain.

That’s it from here. We hope you all have a wonderful Christmas. Our door is always open, unless it’s closed; because if it's open the chickens get in.

You have blue eyes.

While snuggling in a nice warm bed this morning....

Me- You have blue-blue eyes.

Ike- So do you.

Me- Your eyes sparkle.

Ike- What are those scratchy things around your eyes?

Me- Those are wrinkles.

Ike- Oh, well I have this. (showing me a sleepy peeper)

Me- Yep, I'd rather have that than wrinkles.

Ike- Oh, your breath kinda stinks, pew!

Me- Sorry, morning breath.

Ike- You should go take a shower.

Me- (begining to think that I must be the most revolting person to wake up too)

Ike- Does my breath stink?

Me- Sniff, sniff. Nope.

Ike- That's because I keep my mouth closed. You should try to keep your mouth shut.

And I did.