tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-64951144234107584782024-03-12T20:12:35.095-07:00The Reger RugratsThe Funny Farmhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11870283958892117101noreply@blogger.comBlogger100125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6495114423410758478.post-31897889035307724842012-04-21T19:20:00.002-07:002012-04-21T19:20:55.584-07:00Mandated by law...<br />
Ok, I know you have heard me say that I only take my children in public when
it is mandated by law. Today was one of those days, and the rest explains
why...<o:p></o:p><br />
<br />
The alarm rang at 6 a.m. this morning, which is an affront that I take
personally as Sat. is usually the only day I can "sleep in" until at
least 7. But the kids had to be picked up from a lock-in at church at 7 and
then taken to Bossier (the nearest town an hour away) to play her soccer game
at 8:30. Frankie did that running for me while I stayed home and kept Laura.
After they returned home, Frankie left for work and left me with the three kids
and a list of things to pick up at Wal-Mart. (I know I seem fixated on alarm
clocks and Wal-Mart, but really there isn't much more to life when you live in
Rodessa...) He also left me a "love" note that reminded me to go
vote. (Really, I give him 12 years for that?) <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>It is my general rule to try NOT to take the
kids anywhere in public, but especially not to Wal-Mart, as there is too much surveillance
to adequately keep them in check and avoid a weekend off granted by CPS. But
the girls got a note on Friday saying Twin Day would be next week (so they need
matching T’Shirts for them and their friends), and more importantly, my new
curling iron broke, so a trip to the mall of Vivian was unavoidable, and BY LAW
I cannot leave them home alone YET. So out we head... First we stop at the
"Village of Rodessa" town hall to vote. The kids jump out and run
inside ahead of me (which should have been my first clue). I'm hollering after
them as I close car doors, check for my ID, and lock up, "Wait on me,
girls! We have to go in QUIE......" as the door to the hall slammed in my
face. I take a deep breath and walk in. Maggie has already found the one chair
that will turn around and around and is proceeding to hold Laura off as Laura sobbingly
screams, "Maggie, I wanted that chair!" over and over again. I walk
over with an outwardly calm demeanor and quietly tell them that we are going to
turn right back around and get in the car if I hear one more word. I tell
Maggie she has two minutes in the chair and then they can switch. Laura stands
as close as she can the whole two minutes, irritating Maggie, but not actually
touching her, while I sign in. When I get ready to go in the booth, I switch
Laura into the chair and tell Maggie and Ann Cherie to have a seat on the
floor. Luckily, it is so remote the only folks there are my crew and the voting
signature people, all of whom know my family. So the girls comply momentarily
as I go into the booth. As soon as the flaps close behind me I hear, "Laura,
STOP!" repeatedly, gruffly, and loudly from Maggie. I look out and Maggie
is now repeating Laura's previous gesture of standing as close as possible without
touching, but Laura is swinging her legs out and kicking Mags in the stomach
every turn she makes. I remind Maggie to sit, she complies. I turn back around
to vote. I think there were nine amendments to vote on, and I repeated this
process between EACH AMENDMENT followed each time with another threat to their
very existence to no avail. I was mortified! And now I am HOT MAD and of course
stuck in public without "Betty". So I herd them hurriedly out the
door apologizing profusely to the voting people all the while staring at them
with my “teacher face”.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>We make it to
the door as a sweet, little OLD lady comes hobbling inside.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I tell my children to move to the side and
Ann Cherie freezes in the middle of the doorway, as if she cannot decide how to
move her body.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I physically grab her out
of the way to allow the lady to pass, quietly reminding Ann Cherie of her
manners and apologizing to the woman all in the same breath.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>We exit through the door to find a large
truck is parked directly in front of the steps.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>The people are getting out of the truck as Maggie yells, “Mom, who in
the world would park right here in front of the door?<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>That’s crazy! They know we can’t get by!”<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>(OMG, please don’t have a gun, folks, even if
we do deserve it!)<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Both faces in the
truck look out at us.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I tell the kids to
follow me as I pull Ann Cherie to the side that is most open just as the little
girls squeeze through the other side!<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I
went running around the back of the truck to get to the other side to catch
Laura as she hauls out into the road.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I
had to go check to make sure they did not scratch the truck front!<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>And I had to apologize to the people in the
truck for the comment and the squeeze!<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I
have apologized to EVERY PERSON we have encountered in public.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>And this is the FIRST STOP!<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I get in the car, check buckles, and hear, “Mom,
Laura is kicking me!”<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>“Momma, she is
looking at me mean, so I kicked her!” etc!<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>“I HAVE HAD ENOUGH!”<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I scream
like a crazy person.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>They get
silent.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I dare them to make ONE PEEP the
rest of the ride to Vivian!<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>When we pull
up to Wal-Mart, I remind Laura to stay right beside me.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>We get to the entrance, and of course, she
takes off!<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>We were hollering, “Laura,
come back!” over and over and I ran after her!<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>I finally catch her and grab her hand and walk her back outside.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I reminded her that I had to return our Redbox
movies first and that she should never run off from me!<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>She could be stolen or fall and hurt herself
or others, etc. I tell her that if she runs off again she will lose her “walking”
privilege and have to ride in the buggy!<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>Meanwhile, I am returning each movie (today I have four, and you have to
push all the different buttons for each one).<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>She stayed beside me for the first two returns, before spying the toy
shoved in the corner.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>She runs off
again, and Ann Cherie starts making chase. I tell Maggie to grab a buggy!<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Ann
Cherie catches her, and I lift her screaming and kicking into the buggy.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I did pop her behind then after one swift
kick lands on me!<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>(I know, CPS, calm
down!<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>You have the video, and you know
she needed it!)<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>So she gives up the
fight but brings on the loud sobbing.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I
finish returning the redbox movies, and we head into the store.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Luckily we only need like four things, so
that should be a quick trip, right?!<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>Except that on the shampoo isle, Laura held her arm out and knocked
about 15 bottles down off the shelf.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>While we were picking up the bottles, because of course I couldn’t let
her down out of the buggy, she kicks her flip-flops off.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Maggie, being helpful, picks them up and
hands them back to her.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>She puts them
right back on and kicks them right back off again.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>So I hear, “Laura, I just picked those up for
you!”<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>“Yeah! So! (Loud laugh)”<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>“Mom, I tried to help Laura and she kicked
her shoes at me and used a sassy mouth!” followed by louder laughing by
Laura.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>“The evil devil,” I think to
myself.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I thanked Maggie for trying to help
and picked up the shoes and put them in the back of the buggy, for which Laura
commences sobbing again!<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>OMW!!!<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>All the while Ann Cherie is telling me all
about all the great different shampoo and conditioners and asking me to look at
this and at that, etc. and who is cool that uses this and that, etc.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I turned around and quietly asked her to
please hush just for a second.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I take a
giant breath and close my eyes.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Just get
this done, I think.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I grab our regular
shampoo and head off the isle.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Lord,
please help me, just three more things!<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>We make it to the Advil isle, of which I am an addict, another thing
explained by this article.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The girls
start grabbing different ones, chewables, swallow pills, meltaways, etc. and hurriedly
explaining their wants and needs regarding the different ones.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I take them all and put them back as I repeat
the “whole look with your eyes and not with your hands” speech that is
obviously meaningless but reinforces my need for a lecture on their
behavior.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I am too frazzled to deal with
it all.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I explain to them that when it
comes to medicines, Mommy always gets to make the decision.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I went with the chewables, to the major
lamentations of the other two children.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>Thinking this was settled, we turn around and I hear behind me, “HA, see
I TOLD ya’ll I knew what she was getting!”<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>I was livid.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I turned around and
stared them down.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>CPS, it took
everything in me not to slap a face right then and there.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>“DROP. IT.” I said instead. Just repeat that
whole scenario in your head and you have our next isle where I should have been
able to quietly grab a package of Band-Aids.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>Oh, heck no.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>They have to make
over 80 million cartoon Band-Aids now, to the woes of all mothers.<o:p></o:p><br />
<br />
So we move along to the curling iron row, which has to be paired with the lipstick
row…Let’s just say I now own a raunchy shade of peach that Laura couldn’t keep
her hands off of and broke off when she rolled it all the way up.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>HOR-RI-BLE!!!<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>On to the t-shirts, with a warning that I will be expecting efficient
decision making or their “twins” will have to settle for a navy uniform shirt…
but do I ever get MY way?<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>(That
certainly would not help my blog, but would possibly intervene in my ibuprophen
usage.)<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The whole time we are in the clothing
department, Laura starts standing up in the buggy seat trying to reach clothes
as I am trying to keep Maggie from unfolding every t-shirt on the square.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I grab for Laura’s britches and tell her not
to touch another outfit just as the side of the display starts to sway!<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Yes, just imagine!<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I am holding her, she’s holding the clothes,
and the whole thing goes down!<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Guys, you
just can’t make this stuff up!<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I holler
at Ann Cherie to hold on to Laura as I reset the display and start to replace
the clothes.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I grabbed two t-shirts
Maggie held in her hands and said, “LET’S GO!” <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I fought back tears.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>We went.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>I wish I could tell you that was where it ended.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Sigh.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><o:p></o:p><br />
<br />
I pulled through Sonic to grab a Diet Cherry Limeade.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I go ahead and order four to avoid any
discussion, even though the little rugrats haven’t made a sound since the
landmark take down.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>We pull out and head
down the road towards home.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Not five minutes
later I hear, “Ah, oh, momma!<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I made a
mess.”<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>And as you know, the drink is now
all over the back seat of the car. “Laura, just sit in it.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>You took your top off your cup, I could
lecture you about how you know you are not supposed to, but it wouldn’t
help.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>So just SIT IN IT!”<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>No one makes a sound.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>We have made it home and neither the news station
nor CPS has arrived, the mess did get cleaned up, and the girls are playing in their rooms…but now you get the whole mandated by law thing. (You may
also have a better understanding as to why I love my JOB!<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Bring on Monday!)<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>My little rugrats…I swear!<o:p></o:p><br />The Funny Farmhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11870283958892117101noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6495114423410758478.post-70843023156692431112012-04-15T08:38:00.000-07:002012-04-15T08:38:30.765-07:00Alarm Clocks...I read a funny alarm clock story just yesterday about this guy who bought a "better" alarm clock, or so he thought, that made you enter the date in order to shut it off. I initially thought that would be horrible! I can't imagine having to jump up and run all the way to kitchen every morning trying to look at the calendar all the while screaming out "What date it is?" frantically hoping someone would help by hollering the date out so that I could make the horrid noise stop! I got a little anxious just thinking about it! <o:p></o:p><br />
<br />
This morning I said, "That guy didn't need a "better" alarm clock, he needed a HUSBAND and CHILDREN!" At 4:30 a.m. this morning the phone rang. Around here it only means one thing when it rings that early, someone is dead or dying. Usually never in our family, thank goodness. Today, three people are missing on Bodcau. So Frankie calls it in and starts getting dressed. Of course I am glad that he loves his job. And I am glad that he gets to help people. But I am selfish today. It is 4:30 in the morning after all, and I didn't go to bed until midnight last night. He is now up with the light on trying to get prepped to head out. Big boots clomping around, heavy bullet proof vest being lowered on and velcroed in place, clothes landing on the bed, sonicare toothbrush buzzing, and microwave beeping with something for him to eat on the road...you get the idea. So now my body has had a "nap" and I am awake after he leaves! <o:p></o:p><br />
<br />
I finally look over at 5:30a.m., and realize I am dozing off. I felt ice cold hands and feet snuggle quietly in at 6 a.m. (which I do love that early snuggle time, and I have trained them to know the difference between snuggle time and conversation time). So I rolled over to cover her up and grab a kiss and hopefully get both of us back to sleep, only, my face meets sticky, so do my hands, as do my arms..."Laura, what is all over you?" "Mommy, I ate some donuts. I got them down off the shelf all by myself." Now my body and my bed are sticky. Well, we are up. I get her cleaned up and the mess taken care of, and I try to lie back down. By now it's 6:30a.m. Laura, of course, had other plans. She was back in her room playing. At 7:00 a.m. I hear screaming from the living room, "Laura, NO!! Oh my gosh! Laura, get away. You made the mess, and you are GOING to clean it up." Well, I'm up again it seems, knowing my 4 year old isn't going to properly clean up a mess that a 10 year old won't even touch. Laura had my rollerblades on trying to blade through the house and ran over Ann Cherie's cereal bowl as she ate in front of the TV (which they are not supposed to do!) Milk and soggy cereal is just what I wanted my still faintly sticky body to deal with this morning. Ann Cherie is still making her case for not cleaning up, and Laura is making her case for NEEDING to rollerblade in Mommy's blades. I'm making my case for Ann Cherie not eating in the living room, etc. All the while Maggie commences to turn the TV up to like 40 volume because she can't "hear her show" over all the clean-up talks! OH my WORD!! I cleaned up the cereal, took the blades off of Laura, and turned down the TV with yet another conversation about being rude with the TV noise and the need for patience. By now, I need some patience. Laura is now whiny because she has lost the blades and wants some breakfast. So I calm her down and ask her what she would like to eat. "I want the chocolate ball cereal." Great! I go get a bowl and pour the cereal and milk. I call her to the table and head back to the kitchen. Shrieking ensues. "That's not the cereal I want. I wanted the apple cereal. I never get to do what I want." There’s the real reason. I explain that she asked for the chocolate balls, so therefore I didn't pour the Apple Jacks, blah, blah, blah, and that just because I took my blades away she shouldn't throw a fit. Is it 7:30 yet? Almost. I go and lie back down. Just thirty minutes, Lord, and I will never complain again... Ten minutes later I hear another commotion in the living room. Ann Cherie it seems interrupted Maggie's show to turn on the Wii, without consulting Maggie, without giving her 1st remote, and without picking the game she would have picked if she would have chosen the Wii during her movie to begin with, etc. Ann Cherie in turn is loudly making her case. And Laura chooses right now to walk in the room with her hands and face covered in STAMP INK! OMG! So I yell, "Stop! Everybody just stop. Go get some shorts on and GO OUTSIDE!" I dramatically turn off the TV, dare them with "Betty" (the wooden spoon), and watch PATIENTLY as they STOMP loudly to get their clothes on head out to the trampoline. So, all I can say is the guy with the "better" alarm clock can BRING IT ON...or borrow my rugrats...I swear!<o:p></o:p>The Funny Farmhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11870283958892117101noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6495114423410758478.post-85604344427619903852012-04-08T14:34:00.003-07:002012-04-08T18:41:15.976-07:00Chaos and Litany...<h6 class="uiStreamMessage uiStreamHeadline"><div class="actorDescription actorName" data-ft="{"tn":1,"type":2}"><span class="messageBody" data-ft="{"type":3}"><span style="font-size: small;"> </span></span><br />
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<span class="messageBody" data-ft="{"type":3}"><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin: 0in 0in 10pt; mso-margin-bottom-alt: auto; mso-margin-top-alt: auto; mso-outline-level: 6;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; mso-bidi-font-family: Aharoni; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">“Back from Wallyworld- the mall of Vivian- with my sis-in-law, Courtney Reger!<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Stopped by the Family Dollar afterwards just to make the day special and to build my confidence! You only have to brush the teeth you want to keep people- and just a suggestion- the ones in front would be worth keeping... only if I were you and again only a suggestion... And shorts that make it past the first few love rolls on your legs would be appreciated as well... but again... only a suggestion...What an experience!”<o:p></o:p></span></div><span style="font-size: small;"> </span><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin: 0in 0in 10pt; mso-margin-bottom-alt: auto; mso-margin-top-alt: auto; mso-outline-level: 6;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; mso-bidi-font-family: Aharoni; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">This was my recent facebook post...I just keep thinking that society will change and grow and get better. It has to, right? …Maybe it is me that needs changing. I think back now of the SMILE on my face the entire time I was shopping! I never would have remembered that trip without others being "different". So maybe it is time I enjoy society in the fashion of today. <o:p></o:p></span></div><span style="font-size: small;"> </span><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin: 0in 0in 10pt; mso-margin-bottom-alt: auto; mso-margin-top-alt: auto; mso-outline-level: 6;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; mso-bidi-font-family: Aharoni; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">My children dressed up this morning for Easter Sunday at church. They looked like little princesses, and of course, none of my mommy bias translated into that statement! We go to Easter services with my father-in-law each year, sort of as a "gift" to him. This year he didn't even sit with us. I don't blame him. They were little monsters at church with their cousins. Our two families, my brother-in-law's and mine, sat together in the balcony of the tiny little Catholic Church. We filled it with our seven rugrats. The children had colors and color sheets to entertain them. Of course, they preferred to rip the sheets out of the books and drop crayons one at a time on the floor during the quietest of prayers. The baby chose to squeal. <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Brynn told a loud story to his cousins that couldn't wait. Three of them tried to fall over the balcony as Frankie and Gorden loudly moved out of their chairs to grab dresses and dress pants just in time. One of them needed to "show Dadda something" and tried to go downstairs a few times during the service without asking and refusing each new reprimand in due fashion, again, all during the quiet parts. I had two in my lap, each "sharing" with the other by only taking one leg each, one of which braided and tugged and fashioned my hair the entire service the other kissing my face and giggling loudly at the sound it made. One cried because she wasn't there in time to get a knee, and I was out of room and hair. The baby finally spilled the entire crayon bucket and then picked each one up and loudly dropped them back into the bucket one at a time. None of the other rugrats ever "found" a seat (meaning ever stayed in one). Frankie issued a few gruff warnings and Gorden echoed in turn. One went through the contents of my purse all while I was trying to reach around the two in my lap to keep her from it each time she would pull out something new. <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>And half of them went barefoot down the aisle for the Lord’s Supper all the while stopping to hug and loudly greet everyone on each aisle they passed that they knew.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>All of this culminating with my oldest saying, "Boy am I glad we were catholic this morning, because their service is way shorter." Only to be echoed by my own thoughts, "Yep, if you only knew!" Even through my embarrassment and exhaustion my thoughts continued to turn to the one person that would have LOVED this chaos.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Three years ago Ann Reger sat up in that balcony with us.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Proudly.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>She picked up babies and SMILED the BIGGEST SMILE when our rugrats were the WORST in church.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>She went as far as to take PICTURES of these terrible, embarrassing moments- DURING CHURCH mind you, just to have them printed and smile and laugh again over them later.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>“Look at my babies!” She would exclaim.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>“Remember when they did such and such during church… Oh, my…HAHAHAHA!”<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>A few months later she was gone.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I can see that smile now and am continuing to live her “Oh, my’s”.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>What I wouldn’t give to have had her smiling with us in the chaos this morning, loving her babies through all of their chaotic moments and sharing her own knees and long hair.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>This made me remember my posting from yesterday and made me stop to think that in church my family is the “different” family.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>(No quiet Gerber babies in this bunch of rugrats, no way!)<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Maybe I should do more smiling at the moments that I am blessed with being surrounded by my rugrats and nieces and nephews…. And do more loving at each opportunity no matter the chaos.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Praise the Lord for the Hope of Easter that the only thing in the graveyard etched in Reger is a stone and some flowers for Ann looking down. For she got a huge laugh and a big smile over her rugrats in church service today!<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><o:p></o:p></span></div><span style="font-size: small;"> </span></span></div></h6>The Funny Farmhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11870283958892117101noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6495114423410758478.post-61530684326691972962011-12-09T08:20:00.000-08:002011-12-09T08:57:55.434-08:00Reindeer loose in the office: Surprised Elf reins them in....<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-7d_BMWGJXtA/TuI19uWMuXI/AAAAAAAAAQU/5hygjMLwQEw/s1600/surprised+elf.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" mda="true" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-7d_BMWGJXtA/TuI19uWMuXI/AAAAAAAAAQU/5hygjMLwQEw/s320/surprised+elf.jpg" width="240" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-LrKjbFHYN0I/TuI1kM-8WiI/AAAAAAAAAQM/3wM6faDh66Q/s1600/reindeer+in+the+office.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; cssfloat: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" mda="true" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-LrKjbFHYN0I/TuI1kM-8WiI/AAAAAAAAAQM/3wM6faDh66Q/s320/reindeer+in+the+office.jpg" width="240" /></a></div><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-Bj0A05FBayQ/TuI1RXtTjtI/AAAAAAAAAQE/VrgkpTI3GgM/s1600/christmas%2Bin%2Bthe%2Boffice.jpg"><img alt="" border="0" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-Bj0A05FBayQ/TuI1RXtTjtI/AAAAAAAAAQE/VrgkpTI3GgM/s320/christmas%2Bin%2Bthe%2Boffice.jpg" style="clear: both; float: left; margin: 0px 10px 10px 0px;" /></a><br />
<div style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><a href="http://picasa.google.com/blogger/" target="ext"><img align="middle" alt="Posted by Picasa" border="0" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/pbp.gif" style="-moz-background-clip: initial; -moz-background-inline-policy: initial; -moz-background-origin: initial; background: 0% 50%; border-bottom: 0px; border-left: 0px; border-right: 0px; border-top: 0px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px;" /></a>Twas two weeks before Christmas and all through the office, everyone was busy. No one was stirring. The lectures were being presented and such that no one was thinking of Christmas much. Housekeeping was working and Tammy D. settled in at her desk, prepared for a long day at work. No fun to be had. When out in the main office there arose such a clatter. Tammy D. walked out to find exactly what was the matter. When what to her surprised eyes in the office...3 of Santa's reindeer. She jumped all around snapping pictures for proof with her iPhone in good cheer, she knew in moment it must be Susan, Joy, and Sue. She was so excited she didn't know what to do! She spoke not a word, but went straight to her work. She reined them all in with promises of emailed copies of pictures and turned with jerk. She hated for them to leave, but she feared dismissal. So off to their stables the reindeer were sent with prancing and pawing of each little hoof. Away they all went like the down of a thistle, and she exclaimed as they ran out of sight, "Get to work! Don't tag me here. Now get out of sight!"</div>The Funny Farmhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11870283958892117101noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6495114423410758478.post-59185718847004006102011-09-20T07:18:00.000-07:002011-09-20T07:18:03.870-07:0033Miles From JesusLaura was so cute the other day. I was looking on the Louisiana Tech University website, my alma mater, to see what new stuff was happening (and to promote "college" to my kids). The girls were all sitting on me and around me as we talked about "college". The website has a feature page called "Tech Triumphs" with alumni that have become successful in their careers (why they haven't called me for a feature yet, I don't know, possibly because I am blogging at work....hehe). One famous Tech graduate is Jason Barton from the Christian band 33Miles that my kids and I love. When the girls saw him they asked why his title line said "33Miles from Jesus". I explained to the girls that the name 33Miles was the name of the band not actual proximity to Christ. Laura piped in with, "No, Momma, Jesus is not far away. I can feel him when I play real hard. Watch me, Momma." She ran around the house and came back with a fast beating heart that you could feel through her chest as she stood grinning. "Touch here and feel Jesus in my heart, Momma. He's not far away. I feel him. He can't get out, can he, Momma." I felt her beating heart. As the big girls and I laughed I realized why God tells us to have Faith like a child. He's in there and He can't get out! As I pray that God doesn't feel "trapped" inside of me, I thank him for never leaving me or my babies. Thank God for the little moments like that with my children in which he speaks knowingly to all of us. That little rugrat...hehe...The Funny Farmhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11870283958892117101noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6495114423410758478.post-8130433190232419282011-09-01T10:49:00.000-07:002011-09-01T10:49:01.884-07:005 point dinners/ lunches/ snacks...I found a great website today of 5 point menus for my weight watchers diet. <a href="http://www.laaloosh.com/ct/health-and-food/food-recipes/my-weight-watchers-recipes/5-points/">http://www.laaloosh.com/ct/health-and-food/food-recipes/my-weight-watchers-recipes/5-points/</a><br />
I do think the government should issue internet warnings though, because the site did not make me excited that I could eat and lose weight as much as it just made me even more HUNGRY which, ironically, was not the intention of browsing low point menu options. I've found I do not particulary like being metaphorically described as a whale, but I am NOT GOOD at starving either.... They should also issue warnings that it doesn't help to browse for 5 point dinners if you plan to COMBINE the dinner selections...hehe Maybe I am the rugrat in the family... more like the sloth, but still in the family...The Funny Farmhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11870283958892117101noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6495114423410758478.post-24588821414438887992011-06-22T09:18:00.000-07:002011-06-22T09:18:00.508-07:00Big Girl PantiesHave you ever noticed how as you gain weight you put off and put off buying bigger clothes, but you go pretty quickly to buy bigger panties. I guess inside I am thinking that if I am in more comfortable panties, the clothes will ultimately respond likewise. For some reason this philosophy is not working for me right now. Must be the estrogen (because it most certainly can't be the cheesecake addiction...) The Funny Farmhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11870283958892117101noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6495114423410758478.post-5958653559033430442011-06-13T09:02:00.000-07:002011-06-13T09:09:21.915-07:00Cornbread Messes...I am crying over cornbread. Seriously. I am sitting on the dining room floor, with a broom in one hand and a dustpan in the other, crying. Tears are streaming down my face. I am sobbing faster than I can breathe. I am looking around the room thinking, "I can't do this anymore. I can't stand it. It's not fair. All I do is work and clean. Everything is for the kids. EVERYTHING. And this is what I get." As I weep, my tears disappear into the sea of cornbread scattered around the room. "Cornbread. Why did I make cornbread? Am I crazy? Oh my God, I'm CRAZY now, too!!! I am losing it! What is the matter with me?" (You are laughing, I know, cause you've been there. Maybe it was toothpaste or Kool-aid or pop tart, but you've been there- the breaking point, where you cry so you don't kill anybody.) I start to get up realizing that wet cornbread is harder to clean up than dry cornbread, so I am in fact making life harder by crying over the mess- meant in literal and otherwise terms there! Cornbread is everywhere. Three pieces of cornbread. Three little girls. "My dining room looks as if SPD just dusted for fingerprints on a quadruple homicide." I giggled as I thought that thought because it was preceded by, "I could kill them. I could just kill them." (Not meant in the literal sense here!) Not only was cornbread covering the table, but every chair, corner, and crevice lay covered in cornbread as well. So I swept and swept before I realized, "Duh, you should have wiped the table off first, genius! Oh my gosh, I'm a moron now, too! These kids are making me stupid!" More sobbing here. I know what you are thinking. Where are the kids? Why aren't they helping clean up the mess they made playing with the cornbread? But I am way too much of a control freak to let them try to clean up cornbread mess (seriously, have you cleaned up cornbread before? moist, yet crumbly...) And of course the whole "I could kill them" thing. They are old enough to clean up. My 9 year old could have decently removed a large chunk of the mess with a broom. My 6 year old could have wiped the table off well enough to knock it all off on the floor. But it still would have left a lot of cornbread, and I was having my whole little meltdown anyway. So it was safer for them to be banished for my little clean up tirade anyway! Stop laughing at me and my mess of a life. This little charade was the icing on the cake of my day, I can promise you. But I am coming to figure out that life is messy. I know. I know. Common cliche used to define many a good tale, and maybe your mess is as mine is more literal than rhetorical, but still messy just the same. I used to think that messy was miserable. Messy meant that I wasn't living up to any expectation, much less the mountain-sized expectation I set for myself. But lately I am realizing that messy IS life. Without mess, life is boring and predictable (which granted, I could use a little bit more of). Life without mess is life without a story to tell... and where would anyone be without a good book?! Where would I be on a warm summer afternoon curled up on my bed if no one else had a messy life that they were willing to turn into a good story? Bored? Possibly. Much cleaner house? Definitely. Happy? Never. I knew I needed to share my mess when I realized that my mess really is the story of my life. And my mess is hilarious! Those rugrats...I swear!The Funny Farmhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11870283958892117101noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6495114423410758478.post-91263659493292676242011-02-22T16:56:00.000-08:002011-02-22T16:56:32.427-08:00Princess Laura...If only I could tell you that Laura has been betrothed to a handsome young prince... or at least won a beauty pageant, but alas that is NOT how she earned her title today! I came in and went straight to the computer as I had some bills to enter into "bill pay" on my account. It didn't take long, but as I turned to get up I noticed Laura down on her knees in the dining room licking shredded cheese off the floor. I shrieked in horror, which caused her to pause in turn and to look up at me with cheese still stuck on her face. I told her to get up, quick, and go wash her face and hands! Oh, the germs! I was saying, "Oh my Goodness, Laura, you will get the flu again or worse from licking the floor." As she gets up and walks off with that sullen, pitiful, about to cry look, I notice as she walks that there is a trail of cheese from where she was on the floor into her bedroom, bathroom, sister's room, and kitchen! I hollered at her, "Laura, what in the world were you thinking, baby! Why is there cheese ALL OVER MY HOUSE??!!!" To which she so quietly, with her voice choking replied, "I wanted to eat like Princess!" Princess, of course, being her new puppy. OH LORD!! I sat her down and talked to her about germs and the terrible mess it made, not to mention the expense of shredded cheese. Then I looked at her and asked, "Does Princess eat her food in a trail?" Then she said, "Well, Nonnie lets her puppies eat all the food under the table." How do you argue with that? So I spent the next ten minutes sweeping up an entire bag of shredded cheese off my floors. I suppose you could look at it like I killed two birds. (I always need to sweep!) It's just too bad that I panicked and didn't let her continue to eat long enough to take some pictures! Gross, I know. And don't worry, I got to mop less than 30 minutes later when I dropped the kool-aid pitcher in the middle of the kitchen. And that one was all my fault, folks! No blaming the rugrats that time! So a good sweepin' and moppin' later...Those rugrats, I swear!The Funny Farmhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11870283958892117101noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6495114423410758478.post-29149308589070395702011-02-12T07:34:00.000-08:002011-02-12T07:34:10.741-08:00New Chore Charts...A long while back we did the whole chore chart thing. Well, to say the least, it was time to reimplement. So I called the girls over to the computer and let them pick out pictures for their own chore chart. I also printed off a list of "recommended" chores for their ages. Then I called a family meeting! We all sat down and discussed how mommy was going crazy and how we all needed to pitch in to help her around the house! (Ok, we really just talked about how we could all help each other! But we all know the truth! hah!) We started with Laura's age group by reading the chores that were recommended and asking her if she thought any of those things were things she would like to help the family out with! She picked out a few, and I picked out a few to round out her list. Then we repeated the process with each of the others! Then we discussed what they thought were fair rewards. They said they didn't know with homework if they could do some things every night, so we agreed that if they completed all of their chores for 5 out of the 7 days they would receive a small treat- like an Icee or a mini blizzard. We will keep chore charts that they receive a treat for and when they have 4 charts (4 weeks worth) they will receive a fun time out with someone on the farm. Maggie said she wants Sho Sho to take her out to eat and Ann Cherie wants Dada to take her shooting. Laura just said "Yay" so I'm not sure what her date will be! lol So far- SUCCESS! I have not gone to bed in tears in almost a week now and my house no longer looks as if it has the flu (well, don't check the corners!) So I say, even if this week was magical and never repeats, it was totally worth it! Those little rugrats reformed....so far!The Funny Farmhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11870283958892117101noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6495114423410758478.post-35774007651655029762011-02-12T07:23:00.000-08:002011-02-12T07:23:33.900-08:00New jeans...So I am taking off my jeans and Ann Cherie says, "Momma, you need to go back to the Buckle and get you some more jeans." so I said, "why?" and she says, "Because you are about to grow out of yours!" She really wasn't being ugly! That was the funniest part! She just knows that's what I say to her when hers are getting "too tight!" Time to go back on the diet!The Funny Farmhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11870283958892117101noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6495114423410758478.post-60020569116367513952011-02-08T18:06:00.000-08:002011-02-08T18:17:47.266-08:00Buggy Mayhem...<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_4prvJjKLnQA/TVH2ffj74cI/AAAAAAAAAPk/sIQH1tFZGEw/s1600/shopping+carts.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" h5="true" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_4prvJjKLnQA/TVH2ffj74cI/AAAAAAAAAPk/sIQH1tFZGEw/s1600/shopping+carts.jpg" /></a></div>You just have to love the little miniature buggies at Tom's Market! They make LOTS of noise, and there are just enough (3) of them for each of my children to get to push one! Laura and her buggy would qualify for Nascar! Enough said. Ann Cherie looks out of place without her calculator the way she is questioning and checking prices of different foods and reasoning aloud as to why she NEEDS to buy some pizzas to feed her "Dada" on the snow day as she places them in her buggy after pausing patiently for me to respond positively to said reasoning. Maggie on the other hand is a quiet, yet calculative sneak. She is placing items of her interest in each of the buggies equally so as not to overfill her own and give away her quest to buy everything with sugar/ sodium available to purchase in the store. Anyway, my stop for milk became a $50 snow day restock! I am now suffering from the whole "my house on the flu" visions... Those rugrats, I swear!The Funny Farmhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11870283958892117101noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6495114423410758478.post-31491700845647871472011-01-30T17:53:00.000-08:002011-01-30T17:53:45.209-08:00Cactus love...<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_4prvJjKLnQA/TUYV8TOMtpI/AAAAAAAAAPM/dwrzA4PLhK0/s1600/100_3202.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left:1em; margin-right:1em"><img border="0" height="240" width="320" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_4prvJjKLnQA/TUYV8TOMtpI/AAAAAAAAAPM/dwrzA4PLhK0/s320/100_3202.JPG" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_4prvJjKLnQA/TUYV8vYPDnI/AAAAAAAAAPU/nge90U9Duhw/s1600/100_3203.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left:1em; margin-right:1em"><img border="0" height="240" width="320" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_4prvJjKLnQA/TUYV8vYPDnI/AAAAAAAAAPU/nge90U9Duhw/s320/100_3203.JPG" /></a></div><br />
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I love it when my cactus blooms! They are gorgeous flowers! It reminds me of the prickly parts of life and how they suddenly will bloom just like the cactus! I count my blessings when I see the beauty these typically ugly plants produce!The Funny Farmhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11870283958892117101noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6495114423410758478.post-73053139460088075232011-01-30T17:42:00.000-08:002011-01-30T17:46:33.525-08:00My house has the flu...<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_4prvJjKLnQA/TUYUKhC__BI/AAAAAAAAAPE/ApYxn-SeAN0/s1600/100_3200.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left:1em; margin-right:1em"><img border="0" height="400" width="300" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_4prvJjKLnQA/TUYUKhC__BI/AAAAAAAAAPE/ApYxn-SeAN0/s400/100_3200.JPG" /></a></div><br />
Yeah, we sorta bathed the living contents of the room each day and then put them back in to keep them sane during the week in the house! I don't know which was worse, the kids feeling terrible with the flu or the girls' room looking terrible while they had the flu. Anyway! Nothing a lot of laundry detergent, a good sweeping and mopping, and lots of clorox spray couldn't restore! Those rugrats, I swear!The Funny Farmhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11870283958892117101noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6495114423410758478.post-87787748628598393962011-01-30T17:20:00.000-08:002011-01-30T17:20:02.539-08:00College Woes....Ann Cherie calmly looked over at me today after helping me do some things and said, "Mom, how are you ever going to remember things after I go off to college?" Oh, Lordy! I laughed so hard and then got to thinking that was only 10 years away. So I suppose I can count on her for that long and then I will use the excuse of her leaving for college to check myself into the nearest nursing home, where others can remember everything for me, including how to do my laundry and clean up after my children. Too bad Ann Cherie can't remember how to do that on her own!The Funny Farmhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11870283958892117101noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6495114423410758478.post-88127157607027164162011-01-27T20:50:00.001-08:002011-01-27T20:58:59.078-08:00For my bestie...This video is an awesome inside joke! I know it's not about the rugrats, so sorry to disappoint! But, to those that get it, CHEERS! To others, it's a funny song on the movie! Enjoy! To John Oszajca, you are totally "on the list"! You rock! <br />
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<iframe title="YouTube video player" class="youtube-player" type="text/html" width="480" height="390" src="http://www.youtube.com/embed/gT--i4TWPow?rel=0" frameborder="0" allowFullScreen></iframe>The Funny Farmhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11870283958892117101noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6495114423410758478.post-79465838149550256652011-01-27T18:38:00.000-08:002011-01-27T18:38:21.655-08:00The Funnies...As I drove off today, Laura (home with the flu) looked at Frankie and said, "I really like her. She's funny!" I have not quit laughing about that one. <br />
As Maggie and I are driving to the bus this morning with her incessant talking and my singing to the radio to drown her out, she says, "Mom, you are SO not listening to me, are you?!" To which I did not reply! Lol<br />
As I talked to Melody today, Liam says, "Mom, You crack me up!" That's so funny, because as those who know and love me know that is MY line!The Funny Farmhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11870283958892117101noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6495114423410758478.post-37396387280946744902011-01-25T18:56:00.000-08:002011-01-25T18:57:35.893-08:00Special menu for children with the flu....As my children are sick, I have had a few days off. I had visions of reading while curled up with my little, quiet, sickly children getting up only to medicate and feed at appropriate time intervals, oh, and watching the occasional movie. Ahhh, the lazy dreams of mothers of sick babies.... DREAMS being the operative word seeing as none of the above has come to fruition. My home could rightly be declared a National Disaster zone and the food is not nutritionally capable of sustaining life, but does rightfully sustain the whine that emits from fussy children. Play-dough is now ground into my kitchen floor. Cheddar cheese and pizza sauce from extra cheese pizza Lunchables are ground into the dining room floor. Chips and another yet unknown and quite sticky substance (possibly is a fruit chiller popsicle- melting of course, but yet unfound) is ground into the cup holders of the couch in the living room. Maggie and Laura's floor is littered with corn dog peelings (They prefer the weenie to the bun!) and Cherry-Oh game pieces (which as you probably know are tiny and enter your feet similarly to tacks when stepped upon-yes, from experience...). My bedroom floor hosts a trail of oreo cakester crumbs, which feel eerily like moon sand, and quite possibly could contain a mixture. Ann Cherie's room is the only room oddly unscathed, but I must admit a few punching noises and minor screaming matches with words like, "Mom, she's in my room AGAIN. I just want to knock her out." with replies from me of, "She's three and sick. I'm coming!" did their best to aid in this cleanliness factor. So literally, you cannot walk through my home without slipping or dodging or saying, "Ugh, gross. What is on the floor this time, girls?" I dare not walk around without my dearfoams! I have subsequently spent all day with the broom and a wet rag in hand. In with cleaning floors, cleaning tables, cleaning babies.... out with the movie watching, reading, and cuddling with kids. I know what you were thinking... What is she feeding these sick babies? Corn dogs, Lunchables, popsicles, oreo cakesters, mac-n-cheese....? What a terrible mother!! Well, I might have had more time to actually cook if I wasn't spending so much time cleaning up what I managed to put on the table, or what I at least began by putting on the table. So much for mother of the year! But I have found that these cabinet staples have aided in the fussy, whiny department! So who's the smart one now? Right? OK, I know. Not me. Already went there...I know... Those rugrats, I swear!The Funny Farmhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11870283958892117101noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6495114423410758478.post-57486621043844607592011-01-24T14:03:00.000-08:002011-01-24T14:10:47.263-08:00Flu BluesOh, the joys of wiping up poopy bottoms, feeding little ones special food and lots of bottles, and rocking babies to sleep! How I wish I was talking about little babies and not flu ridden kids! Laura and Ann Cherie both tested positive for the flu today. Ann Cherie came over whining last night about how bad she felt and how she really needed to stay home from school today, etc. I laughed and told her to get over those Monday morning blues because she was going to school the next morning! Then I started to hug her and give her the attention I knew she must need. OMG, she was BURNING UP! I said, "Oh my, Ann Cherie, I think you have fever!" So we checked it. 102. Lord, mother of the year here! I was giving her some bubble gum flavored Tylenol when Laura came around the corner and seeing pink said, "my toat hurwhats too!" Thinking she just wanted some "pink drink", I told her, "You aren't sick, silly. This is medicine!" And I leaned over to kiss her instead. Her cheek was ON FIRE! She was running fever, too! OMG! So I dosed them both and called a sub for my class! I took them both to the doctor this morning to be given the fateful news! When we got home, Laura was standing in front of the cabinet when she suddenly said, "Momma, I was looking for the pot." I look down and there is poo on the floor behind her. Ann Cherie starts to walk through the door and steps right in it and drags it about three feet while I'm hollering, "Stop!! Stop!!" She looks down and starts gagging. Nice. So I strip them both down and, well, nothing a bath, a roll of paper towels, and a bottle of Clorox Clean-up can't handle! We've been pooping, drinking "bottles" of juice, eating bread, and rocking ever since. As for the little babies thing, I was reminded today about how sweet some of that time was, but how I am SOOO glad they have grown out of everything but the rocking stage!The Funny Farmhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11870283958892117101noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6495114423410758478.post-16875236253536817912011-01-23T12:02:00.000-08:002011-01-23T12:23:05.954-08:00Miss Mississippi...We began our Sunday morning with the usual ruckus to get to church and actually made it there ON TIME without killing anybody or at least threatening any more than the usual! I was elated! We sat in our usual pew on the top row in the balcony as to not disturb the ENTIRE church with my children's racket! Everything was going along so well! We even agreed as the girls begged after church to go to the Chinese food restaurant to eat out with the rest of the population of Vivian... Yep! I know! That should have been the first clue! But as my ADD brain is not mandatory to function on Sundays, it was turned off and off to lunch we proceed! When we arrived, as I said the entire town had made the same decision, there was only one table left and we grabbed it up! Yes! I can relax now! Wrong! We ordered drinks and proceeded to the buffet. As we were preparing our meal, a little, sweet, "older" pentecostal couple was seated at the end of our table. (The table sat 8 and seeing as we were only 5 the Chinese felt it was OK for us to share a table as that is probably their cramped little culture over there, but not when children are involved here.) So needless to say, the girls were on their MOST GRACIOUS behavior for this couple now forcibly sharing Sunday lunch with us. Maggie said the blessing- which thankfully was appropriate and of a decent time interval for once! She thanked the Lord for her whole family by simply stating "whole family"! As that would be the end of world peace during the lunch hour, take a breath before proceeding with reading! First fight began over the transition from cups with no tops to cups with tops as per parental request to the serving staff. Lord, start the alarms, tsunami coming in! Laura WAS NOT drinking out of a "baby cup". "I NOT A BABY!" she screamed at her best. "Well, then go thirsty, because we must use tops to keep everyone and everything as clean as possible!" I calmly replied. Well, the DEVIL himself created rice and that awful sweet red STICKY sauce. As I had placed myself (wisely) between the couple and Laura, my outfit, which, as we all do- I was hoping to wear to school tomorrow as it was pressed and I only planned to wear it for a short time, was now COVERED in red sticky sauce and rice as she flicked the rice and then tried repeatedly to climb in my lap as we tried to eat. When I wouldn't let her climb on me- to maintain distance between said couple and Laura- she went crazy and threw her head in my lap, which of course was now covered in the same red sauce and chicken grease as her mouth was and inconspicuously now looked as if I had started my period without protection. Lovely! So grabbing her, I notice Ann Cherie has been allowed to go to the buffet line ON HER OWN! She returns with 8 cookies and 6 donuts! Then proceeds to argue with Maggie that they are HERS! Really, 8 cookies and 6 donuts and you CAN'T SHARE! Heaven forbid! Frankie calms the storm and I look back to Laura. She is pushing her chicken piece with that same devil sauce around the edges of her plate and the plates around her so that no matter where you try to pick up the plate it is now dripping with sticky goo! Awesome! Nevertheless, I pick up the plate and take it way from her. Yep, you guessed it! She started kicking and screaming and whining... Nice! By now, the little "older" couple was rushing through their plate and talking of how seconds were overrated and how they felt they would just skip dessert and hurry home today! Wonderful! About that time Maggie returns with her own cookies and proceeds to, not eat them like normal people, NO, that would have made sense, she starts breaking them into a million pieces on her plate causing crumbs to go everywhere. She starts to eat her little donut things with the sugar on them but first licks all the sugar off the outside and puts the donuts over onto another plate as she picks up the donut plate, and, I kid you not, LICKS the plate. Frankie looks at her and says, "Hey, Miss Mississippi, put down that plate!" I am by this time laughing so as not to cry and telling Frankie how my 17 year old sister licked her plate last weekend and that must be where she learned it from because I was a Sub Deb and a cotillion! Totally thankful for that bladder lift as hard as I was laughing which caused half the restaurant to laugh as well! Well, we got on out of there after that! There is just no salvaging plate licking! Luckily it is a small town, so I won't even have to tell everyone at school tomorrow to read this blog as they will have already heard about the Reger's eating at the Chinese food place at the local church tonight! For all of the rest of you, I hope and pray that the devil was not involved in your own family Sunday dinners! I mostly just pray for my rugrats! Those rugrats, I swear!The Funny Farmhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11870283958892117101noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6495114423410758478.post-50757407307297734542011-01-22T11:43:00.000-08:002011-01-22T11:45:57.938-08:00My new VOKI!I am so proud of my new voki! Although, I look familiarly alien, I loved setting it up! I can't wait to create one for my teacher web site! Go to voki.com to create one for your blog or website! Just "You Tube" instructions on how to add it to your site! I love Lisa's added to W.T. Lewis Elementary's website! Thanks for the idea, Lisa!The Funny Farmhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11870283958892117101noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6495114423410758478.post-15755888146970252202011-01-22T11:30:00.000-08:002011-01-22T11:42:22.477-08:00Not so hot stuff...I figured after the last post, I could tell you about other things that get hot, or should I say not so hot in my home! My girls were making corn dogs earlier and the microwave quit on them. Frankie has been "getting a part for it" now for about a month or so. It will only heat for 3 mins consecutively or otherwise before shutting down- therefore lots of food ends up not so hot. Now, I don't know about average microwave usage in 21 century homes or anything, but I know that my family uses WAY ABOVE average usage time and without that one appliance, life has seemingly caved in! Anyway, I hear my girls trying to make corn dogs in front of the microwave saying, "Next year we are so asking Santa for a new microwave." Seriously, that made me laugh so hard until I realized how sad it sounded! Needless to say, it was the extra push Frankie needed to say, "Time to pick up a microwave when we go out tonight!" "But what about fixing it?" I asked with a sarcastic grin. "Yeah, well, no. We are just going to go buy another one today." Which in husband speak means "I couldn't find the part or figure out how to fix it, so I'm using the girls as an excuse!" Well, no matter how it worked out, I will finally be back in business! Corn dogs and chicken nuggets- will be some hot stuff cookin' this evening! Those rugrats, I swear!The Funny Farmhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11870283958892117101noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6495114423410758478.post-9195539511924939402011-01-20T19:56:00.000-08:002011-01-20T20:06:30.529-08:00Hot Stuff...Yeah, had to look after seeing that title, huh! Of course, I'm talking about me! I haven't felt good all day and running fever tonight. So I'm hot now! It's confirmed! lol If only my jeans and my age would conform to the knowledge!The Funny Farmhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11870283958892117101noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6495114423410758478.post-5057678535996457682011-01-19T20:12:00.001-08:002011-01-19T20:15:46.815-08:00Magic Marker Fairy AlertHigh Alert! High Alert! There is a magic marker fairy stopping by houses and writing on bed sheets in the middle of the night. Said fairy is also known to leave marks on the hands of bed sheet owner victims. When questioned, my children adamently denied knowledge of her visit. Beware! Confiscate all markers and lock them in safes to maintain the security of your rugrats and bed sheets immediately! (Really not so funny at 6a.m.....)The Funny Farmhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11870283958892117101noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6495114423410758478.post-24195513230572694722011-01-18T19:01:00.000-08:002011-01-18T19:18:46.581-08:00As if...Don't you just hate Mondays? Well, today was a Tuesday- Monday! We had the long holiday for Martin Luther King, Jr. Day and didn't have to return until Tuesday! Golly, it sure felt like a Monday, though! Enough with naming the days! My children woke up with the usual aches and and pains and coughs and excuses as to why they needed to stay home from school just ONE MORE DAY! As if I didn't want to stay home myself... When they realized that I was not giving in, I suppose they felt it my due recourse for them to argue, cry, hit, scream, etc. all the way to school! Lovely, I said as I caught a flying foot letting the girls out at the bus stop. "But she DESERVES it, Mom!" as if that is going to make me release said foot to bash sister....as if I like bloody noses to add to the fuss. Whine is just not enough...well, that kind of wine might would have been but seeing as it is really frowned upon at school... Anyway, I go to get Laura out of the van and as if the bigger kids' fits weren't enough, she starts crying- like the high pitched, red-faced, super-loud, call CPS on my mother immediately cry! "What?" I cried, and she simply continued to look at me and scream as if I should just KNOW how I was devastating her... Anyway, turns out she wanted her boots, but we had her tennie's, and she simply would not stand for having her hair brushed either, as in "the hair brush was going to turn her hair deep purple with red stripes and make it all fall out by the end of the day" kind of not wanting her hair brushed. Then- God Forbid- I had to take her into the daycare! Oh my word! She went insane! I left her sobbing in the sweet lady's arms after she peeled her off of me, waving bye as I walked out the door, and sat in my van just for a moment upon entry to catch my breath! Off to school, which was just as interesting, yet unfortunately confidential, as if those mommas don't know what their kids are doing at school anyway... Although, I know mine are perfect angels! For real, what could they possibly have left in them to rouse at the teacher! Those rugrats, I swear!The Funny Farmhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11870283958892117101noreply@blogger.com0