Wednesday, November 23, 2011
-Our five (almost six) silly turkeys;
-Surviving ten years of marriage with the Father of those turkeys, who is also a loving and playful Dad;
-Having a close relationship with both my parents and all my siblings, who I'm very fortunate to still have here, even if we all live far apart;
-A best friend who loves me and my nutty children, despite my grumpiness lately;
-A group of girlfriends who always know how to make me laugh and keep things in perspective;
-My sweet, precious Granny, who has been a wonderful example to everyone who is fortunate enough to know her;
-A safe school system, where the principals love all the students and are truly passionate about education;
-Freedom to live for God and worship openly, without the worry of persecution;
-Good health, a roof over our heads, plenty of food and clothing;
-And of course, all of YOU;
... Just to name a few.
I hope this Thanksgiving finds you all well, happy and healthy.
Happy Turkey Day!!
Love, Big Momma
Sunday, November 6, 2011
For real though, my butt hurts. I have to stretch like a cat periodically, to loosen up the ligaments. Or is it to tighten them?? I can't remember exactly what the doc said about why it hurts so bad. It just does. My sciatic (sp?) nerve is giving me trouble too. Ahh, the joys of pregnancy. And I hate when people do nothing but whine while pregnant, which is another reason I've avoided blogging lately.
I've tried to jot down all the funny moments and sweet memories, hoping to get them all posted. But I kept losing the little scraps of paper I was writing on, and the ones I have found, I can't remember what the abbreviations are for, or who said what. For example:
"Store-- L and T fighting-- Fist hungry for justice."
Underneath that note would be half a grocery list: "eggs, butter, chocolate chips, tp, PB, Tums, razors" and then another note:
"H hugging F for doing good job."
I suffer severly with Mom-nesia. Blogging has been the only way for me to preserve our family's memories. And lately, since I haven't been doing it regularly, I'm afraid I've lost some good ones.
Such is life.
I'll dig my big girl panties out of the drawer soon and quit fussing so much. (They're the only ones that fit right now anyway.)
Until then, I'll be comatose on the couch or stretching like a kitty. Good times.
Sending you sticky hugs and sloppy kisses!
Monday, October 31, 2011
We're still here. I know all seven of you have missed me. I've just been stricken with pregnancy induced narcolepsy, so anytime I sit down for more than 12 seconds, I pass out.
My kids are already high on life, with the anticipation of refined sugars that will fill their pails later this evening. I am sending warm thoughts filled with peace, serenity and extra energy to all the teachers we know and love. I don't know how y'all do it. This morning alone, I've had to tell my monkeys to CALM DOWN 84,000 times, at least. I've instituted a "NO sugar for the day" rule, because of what lies ahead in our day.
Hail, who completely understands this rule, tried to trick me into a treat already...
Hail: Can I hab an Oreo for bweakfast?
Me: NO. You know the rule today! NO junk all day. Besides, what kinda Momma would I be if I let you eat Oreos for breakfast all the time?? How about something healthy... like a poptart??
Hail: Ugggh. But Momma!! Fine den. Can I just hab the white stuffs from da middle?? That's not junk. It's not eben the cookie.
Instead of carving pumpkins this year, we opted to paint miniature ones. Don't judge. Do you have any idea how long it takes ME to scrape pumpkin goo out of FIVE pumpkins?? The kids always start out gung-ho and excited, but once they are reminded of what all carving a pumpkin entails, they bail. So, this year we painted. And they actually loved doing it. They even painted one for the Bitty Princess. It's funny, but I don't realize just how large a group we have until I see something laid out before me, like six lil' punkins all in a row.
We sure are blessed.
Wishing you all a happy, fun and safe Halloween! May you find your day filled with many more treats than tricks!
Big Momma and the silliest Punkins from the patch
Wednesday, October 19, 2011
We've had a great time, however, we may very well need a vacation from our vacation when it's all said and done. As usual, The Storm has lived up to their reputation, and made our trip an eventful one.
In the words of Jimmy Buffet, "If we weren't all crazy, we would go insane."
Monday, October 10, 2011
Friday, October 7, 2011
Tuesday, October 4, 2011
The above conversation took place in less than a minute and a half. And he's still going, I just quit listening.
Hail's been wearing that one batting glove for nearly three weeks straight. He sleeps in it. He plays in it. He only takes it off to bathe.
The kid's a nut.
Monday, September 26, 2011
Wednesday, September 21, 2011
Hail loves to play patty-cake with my butt. No really. He stands behind me all the time, while I'm loading the dishwasher/standing in a check-out line/standing anywhere and starts clapping his hands, then treating my butt as if it could clap back. Just like he's seen Her Highness and friends do their "Miss Sue from Alabama..." type songs a million times (using just their hands, not their tiny butts). I've grown accustom to it, and usually don't even notice he's doing it. Sad, I do realize. One night, as he was singing to my butt, "Patta-cake-patta-cake-bake-dat-man..." he stopped and asked, "Momma, is our baby sister gonna come outta yur BUTT??" "NO!" I quickly answered, hoping he'd go away. "Are you SURE?? 'Cause it wooks wike dat baby is movin' down into yur BUTT. Maybe she's gettin' weady to come out!"
I locked myself in the bathroom and cried.
Next to Her Highness, Thunder is probably the most excited about getting a baby sister. He's the one who will come lay by me on the couch the most, and talk to the Bitty Princess without being prompted. He'll naturally start rubbing my stomach, hoping to feel movement, without ever saying a word. Sometimes he feels the tiny kicks and will squeal, "I felt that! Did you??" Which always makes me laugh. Other times, he'll say, "Wow! She's getting really strong! I can feel her!" and I can't feel a thing, so I know he's just being sweetly optimistic.
One night, Lightning had pulled my shirt up over my stomach to talk into the "mic." Thunder sat next to him, and rubbed all over my skin, waiting to feel the Bitty Princess at soccer practice, as they like to say. He noticed my stretch marks. With a very concerned tone he said, "Ohhh, Momma. I see where she's scratching you, trying to get out!!" After I explained they were stretch marks, Lightning said, "Oh. Okay. So wike, you mean dose are marks where her's stretches. Wike 'Yaaaawwwwnnnn.'" he made a fake yawning sound and stretched his arms up over his head. Guess he's not too far off base.
It's hard to believe the Bitty Princess will be here in 14 weeks or less.
Hang tight, baby girl. You have no idea what you're being born into.
Monday, September 19, 2011
All 10 children were running around the backyard, enjoying the sunshine and fresh air, when Hail asked could our new neighbor's little girl come over and play too. "The more the merrier!" I laughed. A few moments later, the precious china doll of a seven year old came over and politely asked, "Mrs. Holly, could you please tell me when it's time for the birthday party to start? My parents said I can't stay for the party, but I could play until then." Confused, I asked, "Oh, are YOU going to a party later??" She clarified, "No, ma'am. The birthday party that's here. My parents thought since there were so many children in your yard, it must be a party!"
I laughed. And laughed. Then I explained it was just a regular playdate-- Hudson House Style.
About an hour later, my neighbor called me over to our fence and tried to hand me a beautifully wrapped birthday gift. Stifling my giggles, I explained there was no party. She laughed too, then said, "Well then, you're just crazy! My husband and I thought surely there must be a child's birthday party going on! We are still so new to the concept of having so many children. My Mother, who is still in China, called the other day to ask what the girls (they have two, ages seven and 18 months) would like in their package she was sending from China. She spoke to them and J said, 'Grandma, could you send me FOUR brothers?? My new neighbor has four brothers and we have SO MUCH FUN over there!' I tried to explain to her, we will not be having four brothers. We are happy with two daughters, and that is all. She tells me, 'Mommy! You will have MORE babies! I want BROTHERS!' So now we are feeling so much pressure from her, and she's only seven years old."
We do have a lot of fun. And I wouldn't trade any of it for the whole world.
Thank-you so much to all who left comments on my post below, and to those who sent me wonderful comments on Facebook, as well as texts and e-mails. I am so very blessed to have such a great support system. Without all of you, I would be lost. Thanks for the reminders of fun and sweet memories from those who knew me when I was young. I laughed through tears, as I read all of your notes. I truly appreciate your kind words of encouragement and prayers more than you'll ever know. It has helped to know I'm not alone in my feelings. I love y'all!
Wednesday, September 14, 2011
"Sometimes I wonder about my life...I wonder, do I do it because I like it, or because I haven't been brave?"
I've been struggling with something recently. Okay, not just recently, but only recently have I been able to pinpoint and admit to myself that this "funk" I've been feeling for quite some time may not be just a funk. And I haven't wanted to admit it for a long time because it means there's something wrong with me. Or maybe not even that something is wrong, but more, that I would have to face the truth and deal with it. It's easier to tell myself, "You'll snap out of it eventually. It's the haze of young motherhood. You'll be your old self again someday." Only, the last part of that statement has begun to haunt me.
YOUR OLD SELF.
Who is that? I don't know her anymore, and part of me misses her. And part of me wonders if I ever really knew her.
Bert and I will be celebrating ten years of marriage this fall. In all, we have been a couple for twelve years. That's over a third of my life. Just before our one year anniversary, we learned I was pregnant with Her Highness. And while I wouldn't trade Bert or our babies for all the riches in the world, I find myself wondering who am I if I'm not Bert's wife and Her Highness and The Storm's momma?? Six kids in eight years, all of which I am eternally grateful for, but I'm only now starting to realize I haven't slowed down and caught my breath, nor slept through the night, in a very long time.
I used to laugh when people would comment on our lack of sleep and respond, "It's kinda like a slumber party, when you get super giddy around 1am. I live in a state of slumber party giddiness." Only now, I'm not giddy. I'm just TIRED. "Spend the Night Penalty!" my own mother would sing, after we returned from a slumber party as kids. Spend the Night Penalty meant you had to go to bed extra early (while the sun was still up) because she could tell you had seen the sunrise that morning, by the way you were crying at the drop of a hat. I could use a Spend the Night Penalty right about now.
If this post is coming across as bratty and selfish, then maybe I'm not making myself clear. It's not a situation where, "You asked for those kids so hush about it." I would be feeling this way no matter the number of children with which I had been blessed. Motherhood, with all the wonderful changes it brings, can also leave you feeling so... ALONE. Yet, I never even pee by myself. It's not that I'm not proud to be a wife and Mother. It's just, after all these years, I'm taking a step back to look at it all and ponder... Is it an Identity Crisis maybe?? Or maybe it's just that my body simply doesn't know what to do with all the extra estrogen flowing in my system. Either way, I'm afraid these insecurities within are causing problems in my marriage and my relationships with my children and even my closest friends.
It's not that I would necessarily change the way things have happened in my life. It's just a haunting thought that has been with me for quite a while... At the end of the day, who am I really? Am I reaching my full potential in life? Is this what God's plans for my life looks like? Because it certainly doesn't always match the dream I had for myself.
Just like Meg Ryan's character in You've Got Mail, I don't really want an answer. Besides, it's not one that can be found quickly. It's just a cosmic question I'd like to send out into the void. So, good night, dear void.
Thursday, September 8, 2011
Kid's gotta point.
Monday, September 5, 2011
The kid ain't right... We've always known that.
Some of the things that come out of his mouth make me wish I could be inside his mind for a day. Maybe even just a couple of hours. More than that, and I believe I'd be haunted for life.
Recently, as I was doing the usual (pointless) pick-up routine, Hail passed by me in the living room, on his way to further destruction in a room I had just finished cleaning, I'm sure. As he strutted by, he slowed down only for a moment to say, without reservation, "That one's named Indie, and that one's Ana."
He pointed to each one of my boobs as he said this.
Then, he kept walking.
Maybe I breastfed him too long?? He's the only one who made it a whole year. Like I said, the kid ain't right.
Thursday, September 1, 2011
And since I aim to please, I cruised on over to Jenna's Journey to see what in the world Jennifer was talking about.
The instructions were simple enough, even for a com-pooter degenerate like myself...
Answer the following questions:
-What is it called when you throw toilet paper on a house?
-What is the bug that when you touch it, it curls into a ball?
-What is the bubbly carbonated drink called?
-What do you call gym shoes?
-What do you say to address a group of people?
-What do you call the kind of spider that has an oval-shaped body and extremely long legs?
-What do you call the grandparents?
-What do you call the wheeled contraption in which you carry groceries at the supermarket?
-What do you call it when rain falls while the sun is shining?
-What is the thing you change the TV channels with?
Then, say the following words:
Aunt, route, wash, oil, theatre, iron, salmon, caramel, fire, water, sure, data, ruin, crayon, toilet, New Orleans, pecan, both, again, probably, spitting image, Alabama, lawyer, coupon, mayonnaise, syrup pajamas, caught
I had the Meteorologist film me, and ask the questions. I figured we'd go ahead and kill two birds with one stone, and let y'all hear him as well.
Afterwards, Hail and Lightning asked me to make a video of them. Since it kept them from fighting for all of five minutes, I was happy to oblige.
I still haven't watched any of the other videos that linked up over at Jenna's Journey, but I'm headed over to do so now. Link up and play along with me!
For some reason I can't get the video of Lightning and Hail to embed, surprise surprise, so here's the direct link:
Oh, and PS. I had NO idea my face was already so stinkin' swollen! I'm only 22 weeks, so why do I look the full 40?? Sigh.
Tuesday, August 30, 2011
Hail: And go to HEAVEN??
Me: Well, no the doctors don't think she is going to die right now. They think she will get all better and maybe even go home soon.
Lightning: I hope she doesn't die, 'cause den we won't have any mur gweat-gwannies.
Hail: Yeah, and that'll be sad.
Me: But you know, when ever the time comes and she does die, she doesn't want us to be sad. Just like Granny & Papa Scott, Memaw, and Great-Papa don't want us being sad for them because they're all in Heaven together, waiting for us to get there.
Lightning: Yeah, dat's wight. And in Heaven, in Heaven we will be ANGELS and have wings!
Hail: And, and, and we'll NEBER haff to take a baff!
Me: No baths, huh? That would be Heaven for you?
Hail: Yeah, 'cause in Heaven, there'll be NO TUBS!!
Me: Y'all are silly turkeys. What do you want me to help you write on these cards??
Hail: I want you to help me write my name, and that I love hers very much, and that I hope she don't die.
Hail: Hey Momma, what if Great-Granny finks I writed all dat stuffs by myself. What if she finks you didn't help me. Just don't tell hers that you helped, okay?
Lightning: No, Hail. It's not nice to twick old peoples. Dey can't help dat they're old.
Saturday, August 27, 2011
Thursday, August 25, 2011
"..I got my lunch packed up, my boots tied tight, I hope I don't get in a fight. Ohh, back to school.."
Her Highness is proving to be a responsible, and loving big sister. And it's even showing in her sensible fashion choices, which is one of the things I'm proudest of at the moment. She's a sweet friend to her classmates, and a big helper to her 3rd grade teacher, who might be her favorite teacher yet. Although, by September, she's said that about each and everyone of the teachers she's had so far. Thunder, who isn't a huge fan of school, is facing each day with a brave face, and going with the flow; even though he would clearly rather be home with his band of brothers, wreaking havoc on the house and our backyard, like Storm's do best. His first grade teacher seems to be a little more organized than I care to be when it comes to homework assignments, and parent initials, and putting worksheets in certain color-coordinated folders. But, then again, in her defense, it's not hard to be more organized than I prefer, since organizational skills are not something I obtain. Nor care to.
One thing the school year brings that I do enjoy is a little more structure to our daily routine. Yes, I love lazy summer mornings by the pool. But our laundry pile and stinky dishes rarely get tended to more than a couple of times a week. School schedules mean I'm up and at 'em a little after five a.m., so it sort of forces me to stay on top of things a tiny bit better. Unless, of course, Lindy calls and wants to meet up for breakfast, then play afterwards, which is absolutely the equivalent of a lazy day spent at the pool, in time spent and the fun that we have.
Lightning (read in his husky voice): Hey Momma, take my pich-a. I'm gonna make a mad face wike Her Highness and say, 'Top takin' so many dumb pich-as MOMMA!'
Keeping in theme with the start of a new school year, new school supplies and new schedules, we decided to give all the boys a new hair do. Flash Flood's still too little for a buzz cut from The Meteorologist, so he got to sit in a booster seat at the salon and get a "real" hair cut. I was shocked at how still he sat the entire time. He kept his head down, until the sweet girl cutting his hair would move it one way or another. The only time he spoke was after Her Highness said in her lil' Momma sing-songey voice, "Your being such a big boy! I'm so proud of YOU!" Flash Flood cut his eyes over at her and asked softly, "Whar my hands go?" Her Highness cackled, then sang back, "Under that big boy cape you've got on! So all your hair won't stick to your hands, sweet baby!"
Thunder wasn't really supposed to wear that mohawk to school. Earlier in the summer, when I agreed to it, we had a deal that it was a SUMMER ONLY hair do, or rather a "don't." Somehow, he convinced me and Bert to leave it a few days. Actually, he only convinced Bert, who was hoping it would help earn him a little street cred, since he's a lover, not a fighter when it comes to public confrontations. I caved, rolling my eyes. This past weekend though, Barber Bert got a hold of all three big boys and shaved them clean. Some a little cleaner than others...
Caillou (who for some unexplained reason is a whiny, bald 4-year old).
Lightning refused to heed Bert's warnings to hush, so he got a matching hair cut. But only after Bert gave him a reverse mohawk, and sent him on to take a bath with the rest of the Storm. Lightning waltzed into the bathroom, teased Hail again, which I thought meant he was aware of the hideous job Bert had just done. Hail began to cry again, so I said, "Buddy, look up! Look at Lightning!" Lightning then looked into the mirror, saw where Bert had just shaved straight down the middle, leaving the sides poking out everywhere, and burst into tears screaming, "DADDY! YOU'S DA MEANEST DADDY EV-A! DAT'S SO MEAN!!!" We all got a good laugh at his expense, which was only fair, since he had made his little brother, who is now truly a Caillou look alike, feel so bad. After convincing Lightning that his punishment was going to be a life of sporting such a horrible do, Bert shaved him down evenly. I, for one, love a shaved headed little boy. It's so much easier to deal with. I'm all about a low/no maintenance kinda hair do! Those who see me on a regular basis know how true that statement is.
Love, Big Momma