My Life In Pictures...

I saw this on a friend's blog and thought it was really cool. So I thought I would give it a try for myself!

1. Answer the questions below.

2. Take each answer and type in to Flickr, Google or Yahoo.

3. Take any picture from the first page of results, and post.

The age I’ll be on my next birthday…A place I’d like to travel….Favorite Place…Favorite object…Favorite food…Favorite animal...Favorite Band…First name…Favorite Color…Favorite Song…Favorite Movie…Place where I was born…Town in which I live…Favorite Store…

Evil Roger

Our neighbor Bill has a ton of chickens that he keeps on our property. He had to go out of town this week, so we agreed to be on chicken duty while he was gone. The girls love the chickens and have named them all like pets. So I don't mind having them out back (except when they escape and run amok, but that's another story!) Recently Bill got two new roosters in addition to the one that was already there. The old one, Peter, is noisy but fine. One of the new ones, Shiloh, is sweet and quiet and the girls love him. Then there is Roger...he is an awful beast and I hate him. He is very aggressive and mean and has come after the girls and I on several occasions. This morning Roger attacked Maryn and Brynna when they went to get eggs. I was getting ready to get in the shower and realized they were taking longer than usual to collect eggs. Sometimes they stay outside after making their rounds and play, so I wasn't too worried. But I thought I'd better check on them before getting in the shower just to make sure they were okay. I went outside and called for them and panicked cries came out of the hen house. Maryn was crying "Mom!! Roger attacked us and now we're stuck in here!" He had cornered them in the hen house so they couldn't get out. They'd been in there crying for about 20 minutes. Roger also had escaped through the gate with the bitties and there were about 20 of them in the rose garden while he stood guarding the entrance to the chicken yard. Little beast. I had to protect the girls with a lawn chair while I rescued them out of their stinky prison and then had to fend Roger off as he charged me while I tried to get all the chickens back in their yard. Poor kids were so traumatized. Roger has taken one of their favorite things about living here and made it scary now. I think Mr. Bill may need to have a chicken dinner soon. I don't want that beastly animal in my backyard anymore!

This video was taken Saturday morning when Roger was actually behaving himself. Too bad that was short-lived!

Do This, Not That

Inspired by Ruby's aforementioned cuteness I decided I needed to reacquire some cute clips, bows or whatever for the girls. I nurse Devyn A LOT, which means I sit on the couch A LOT, which means I have time to sit with baby in one arm while tippy-typin' away on the laptop with my other. (This may be why I am actually blogging again. If anyone actually reads this anymore, thank my endlessly hungry baby!) Last night while Dev was getting her chow on I decided to check out Etsy and see what the goods were. I found this cute shop called 99CentsClip where all the clips are...you guessed it 99 cents! My kind of price since the girls will probably lose them or pin them to a stuffed animal anyways! Anyhoot, scored some cute, crocheted clips like this one that I feel pretty good about...

I did however come across something not quite so cute. An atrocity really. Not on 99CentClips site of course. I just think there should be one universal rule when accessorizing your baby or daughter... DO NOT put something on your child's head that is actually bigger than your child's head!! That baby could be adorable but I wouldn't know it because half her head is covered up and weighed down by that ENORMOUS flower thingy! If you are guilty of this or have thought of being guilty of this we may need to reconsider our friendship...just kidding...but seriously!

Little Miss Hairbow

Meet Ruby, my adorable niece. I wish I could just kiss those cheeks! My sister-in-law Kristen had her a month before I had Devyn. Notice if you will, Ruby's luscious locks complete with cute hairbow. Every picture I have seen of Miss Ruby her hair is adorable, her outfits are adorable. Basically, Ruby is sheer adorability! I hope when she and Devyn are older they don't compare baby pictures, because nowadays I feel pretty accomplished if Devy has on a onesie devoid of barf and that actually fits (everything is big on her). And as far as the adorable hairbows go, I need to schedule a trip to Arizona for a bow-making extravaganza weekend because we have about lost or maimed all of ours. I know, as a mother of all daughters, that's a true crime! Good thing for me Dev is pretty much bald. I can use that as an excuse when her and Ruby are ten, comparing baby pictures and she's wondering what my problem was on making sure she was properly accessorized!

I've Decided...

Devyn - 3 weeks old

...that every time a mother has a new baby her body should spontaneously generate a new set of arms. Freakish...yes. But, I need to look like an octopus at this point to keep up with everything. Devy has decided that she really enjoys being held, specifically by her mother...pretty much all the time. Good thing she is adorable, even though she is a naughty kitten. I can't protest too loudly when I get to sit there and see how her little cheeks are filling out and count her fingers and toes... but still, it's hard to get anything done.

Yesterday some sweet, older women from church stopped by unannounced at my back door (which is all glass). If you know me, you know there is a very small percentage of the population with whom I am okay with just showing up unannounced. I'm weird like that. Seriously, what if I'm chillin' in my undies or whatever.... Anyhoo, I digress. But I talked myself through it and invited them in where they were greeted with cereal under the table, a sink full of dishes and the usual massive pile of laundry to be folded. As we stood there and chatted amongst my mess I kept wanting to blurt out "Please don't judge me! I haven't grown my other set of arms yet!" I realize the likelihood of that happening is pretty much...well, none. So I've decided another suitable solution would be, every new mother that comes home from the hospital is sent home with a full-time housekeeper for the first couple of months. That is SO much more realistic than spontaneously generating new limbs, right?! Yeah right. Looks like I'll just have to live with my mess and uber-attached baby a bit longer...

Cardboard Boxes & Lessons In Anatomy...

The girls were playing with a long, cardboard box that Devy's new Pack n' Play came in this morning. As Brynna was trying to climb in she quickly realized that unless both feet went in at the same time you kind of got hung up in an uncomfortable position due to the box's height. She yelped out "Ow! This thing is hurting my wiener!" I explained that girls don't have wieners because 'wiener' is a nickname for a penis, which is the name for a boy's private parts. Girl's private parts were called a vagina, I explained. "OHHH, VA-GINA!" she said loudly. When she got hung up on the box a second time she kept saying "Oh, my VA-GINA!" again and again....Yeah I'm sure that conversation and the subsequent overuse of that word isn't going to come back and haunt me in embarrassing situations in various public places at all! Eye-yi-yi!

Simple Summer Day...

Nothing fancy. Quite the opposite in fact. Hair long and uncombed. Free to brush the back of your neck or catch a warm, summer breeze. Imaginations lit up, dress-up bin raided, free to be whatever you want to be. A princess... an Indian girl... ...or even a veterinarian elf.

There is no limit to the possibilities. Free as a buffalo, able to roam with minimal interruption from meddling adults. Sticky from chocolaty, melting fudgesicles with no thought to stains on clothes or other things of little consequence. Prowling through the tall bushes, quietly, whispering in hopes of capturing an amphibious prisoner...only to let him go of course. This is the stuff of memories, this is the stuff of childhood, this is the stuff of simple summer days...