BEWARE OF THE AFRICAN GIRAFFE!

I had a very productive morning yesterday. My house was relatively tidy and the boys were doing their schoolwork. I had started working on the Christmas Program (I am the Children's Choir Director) and was practicing some songs I hope to be able to play by Christmas. By 11:00, the boys had eaten lunch (we get up absurdly early at my house) and finished up language, reading, and a small study on Vincent Van Gogh. I told them to take a break and I went to clean up after Felix. He had taken all the books off the bottom bookshelf. He's such a big helper. I plopped my fanny down and went to work, him handing me a book and me putting it back on the shelf. I had to hold up the books already on the shelf to put more on and so I continued to add and move books. All of a sudden - BONK - and I was holding my head in pain and looking around for whatever thing I was about to hurl into oblivion. Ah, the wooden giraffe Missy brought back for the boys from Africa. Can't hurl that into oblivion. Besides, Felix was already holding it saying "No, no giraffe!". Corin was watching me lie on the floor holding my head and screaming "Mama, what should I do? I should tell Mr. Clayton! I should call 911! Mama is this an emergency? Mama!". Woah. What happened? Did I really get knocked in the head by a wooden giraffe? Should it really hurt this bad? I told Corin to just "be still and let me think". Yeah, think about the last time I got a concussion.

Embarrassingly, this is my second concussion within a year. Last Winter, I was changing the sheets (cursed sheets) on the boys' bunkbeds upstairs and knocked myself UNCONSCIOUS by slamming my head on the ladder. I passed out several times and don't remember chunks of the morning. I called Quinn, who was out of town for the day, to ask for instruction (I knew something was the matter because of the huge bump off my eyebrow and the fact that I kept drifting off to sleep) and promptly forgot what he told me as soon as I got off the phone. Gladly, he knew I was incoherent and called Ginger Donahoo to check on me. She called and Corin told her I was asleep on the kitchen floor. I think that I was on the phone with Missy at some point in the morning. It is still a little blurry. Ginger came over and dressed me (oh yeah, still in pjs) and took me to the doctor. I slept for two days and had blurred vision for about a week.

So now I'm sitting on my living room floor, checking for blood, and wondering what should I do. I knew, from my last unfortunate experience, that soon I would probably be feeling dizzy. I finished putting the books on the shelves and loaded the lunch dishes in the dishwasher. Now what? Quinn was in seminary classes in Atlanta and I did not want him to worry. I called Crissy hoping that her husband would be with her (he's a respiratory therapist). No answer on her cell. I called the church and she answered the phone (weird) and said that she would send Chris over. By this time I was unable to walk without holding the wall and the light was hurting my eyes. (Felix was also still holding the giraffe and periodically coming over to me saying "giraffe hurt mama?"). My eyes were not dilated weirdly and I was coherent. I did not want to go to the doctor. Pay $30 for the doctor to say "Yep, mild concussion. Go home and sleep for two days." No Thank You. So I laid in bed all day and couldn't do anything. ANNOYING. Chris and Crissy came over for the whole day and took care of me. It was nice. Ginger came and picked up the big boys for soccer. Paige got my stuff I needed to teach my co-op class today. The gospel at work.

Quinn was slightly annoyed I did not go to the doctor, but I rationalized well. (Oh, sure, trust the lady with the concussion). This morning I woke up with a slight headache and was glad I felt almost fine. Nevermind that nagging cloud in front of my eyes. It was smaller than yesterday's cloud anyway. I did go to co-op to teach my music class. Where we made homemade kazoos. And danced. Dizziness and headache back by 11:00. It was a GIRAFFE. A small wooden carved, docile animal. Crissy said, "Thank goodness it wasn't a lion, huh?" Cute.

Caramel Apple Anyone?
A new tradition! Last minute today, we made caramel apples. Very fally. Such fun! The kids had a blast, but I think Paige and I had more fun eating the leftover caramel. I will probably do it again very soon. Wanna come over? You could just buy a bag of caramels and some apples and show up. I'll chop some nuts. Come one, come all... Let's do something for fall!

What's in Your Pantry?

I just got off the phone with Ginger (link to the right) and reluctantly gave up going shopping with her. To clean my house. Ahem. Now I'm blogging for the second time today. I may give up blogging for Lent next spring.

Anyway, in our conversation I mentioned in passing (possibly for trying to lure her over) that I had nine pounds of chocolate chips in my pantry. Who does not have nine pounds of chocolate chips in their pantry? Allow me to explain. First of all, I am a chocolate freak. Most people know this. Blairs have chocolate running in their bloodstream. I make this chocolate cake called Triple Chocolate Bundt Cake. Very tasty (if I do say so myself). This cake requires 3 cups of chocolate chips. So, I always have two bags of chocolate chips in my pantry because I make this cake for just about every get together I have at my house or to take to someone else's house. Well, I had three bags of Ghirardelli Bittersweet Chocolate Chips (wipe your mouth) in my pantry because they are the absolute best chocolate chips. Then I went to Sam's. ooooh, I love Sam's and sometimes I get a little bit carried away there. It's like a grown-up playground and they have YUMMY pizza. Anyhoo... I went down the baking aisle and NOTICED that the Nestle Tollhouse chocolate chips were 8.50 for a big bag (not sure pounds- maybe 4) and the Ghirardelli Bittersweet Chocolate Chips (which they don't always carry) were 3.50 (or something like that) for 3.5 pounds. WOAH. Fate stepped in. Or fate dipped in chocolate stepped in. I even felt a wave of adrenaline hit me as I picked up the bag and felt its cold, lumpy packaging. I picked up 3 bags initially, but put back one, remembering that I had three bags at home in my pantry (9 pounds of chocolate is okay to have in your pantry, but definitely not 12... that's crazy). I never thought that this was irrational (okay, maybe a small part of me did because I did NOT want Quinn to see that I had bought that many chocolate chips) until I was talking to Ginger and I realized that there was actually NINE POUNDS of chocolate in the pantry. Hmmm. I also like there to be lots of cereal in the pantry. Not sure why.

So here's the recipe for my Triple Chocolate Bundt Cake (okay it's really Southern Living's recipe) that I know from memory:

1 box Devil's Food with pudding in the mix
1 5.9 ounce box of instant chocolate pudding
4 eggs
1/2 cup vegetable oil
1 1/4 cup oil
3 cups chocolate chips, divided
1/2 cup whipping cream

Preheat oven to 350 degrees. Grease and flour bundt cake. Mix 1st five ingredients in a bowl until well blended. Stir in two cups of chocolate chips. Pour into prepared bundt pan and bake for 50 to 55 minutes. Toothpick will not come clean, but cake is done when you push on top of cake lightly and it bounces back.
Allow cake to cool for 10 minutes in pan and then let cool on wire rack for one hour. On low heat stir together remaining chocolate chips and 1/2 cup of whipping cream until it's chocolaty smooth. (Don't worry, you can lick the saucepan). Let ganoche (that's what the icing is called) cool for 10 minutes and then drizzle over cake. Allow to sit so the ganoche can harden. Enjoy.

PS. Quinn doesn't really like musicals. He was being sarcastic. I think it's funny though that people thought he really did like musicals and was secretly enjoying the fact that it was annoying him that people thought that he did. Heh, heh. I love musicals... dipped in chocolate. Yum.

ANNOUNCEMENT!

No, I'm not pregnant. I just wanted to let everyone know that I have set a new precedence for myself. Lately I have been made aware, by my own incapabilities, that I cannot keep my house clean for longer than two hours. This last fact I have known for some time but I constantly fought it. "Surely" (this is me to myself) "Surely I can keep the house clean for the evening until tomorrow morning." This, unfortunately, cannot be. It always surprises me that in the morning the house is a wreck. Maybe I shouldn't be blaming myself at all. Maybe it's the dirty house trolls that leave their secret hiding places when I fall asleep. They pour little Cheezit crumbs on the floor and pour a tiny bit of milk and cheerios on the table so that by morning it turns to concrete. They pee on the back of the toilet and leave cat hair on the sofa. The sink is full of dirty dishes and the dishes in the dishwasher are clean and have been for at least 36 hours. It's the trolls who wear clothes for one hour and throw them in the hamper and leave poop streaks in their underwear.

Anyway, I am not going to clean my house anymore. I left the house yesterday morning knowing that people were coming for lunch and my house was horrible. So that was my start. Then the house was basically clean last night and this morning it was a pigsty (really, how does it happen?). I've decided that I will singlehandedly make dirty, disgusting houses the new style. If you come to house, I will brew a nice pot of coffee in my disgusting coffee pot and we will clear a spot on the sofa to chat. I will wear my jeans (trouser ones of course) that can stand up in the corner by themselves and always wear shoes so that I don't feel the dirt under my feet in the kitchen. That sounds nice.

Not really. It's giving me the heebs just thinking about it. So I guess I'll load the dishwasher and mop the kitchen floor. And the bathroom floor. And just maybe I'll venture upstairs to clean the boys bathroom. Eewww. Maybe not. Quinn will eventually announce that the boys bathroom is disgusting and he'll clean it. He does a really good job. I'll throw a load of clothes in the washer and vacuum the bedrooms (do your bedrooms get vacuumed ever?). Maybe I'll even dust. The house does smell good when it's clean. For two hours. Ah well...

The Essence of My Life

What does my life smell like? It depends on your perspective. Sometimes it smells like piles of dirty laundry being ignored in the hall or mildewed socks that were discarded wet... in the corner... in shoes... two weeks ago. Sometimes it smells like Tide and Bounce and I enjoy smelling every piece of clean laundry (really, every single piece).

Sometimes I come in the house and squint my eyes and wrinkle my nose and say "what is that smell?'' Then I look for it until I find and discard it in the outside trash. Sometimes I come in my house and smell Pot Roast that has been cooking for six hours and breathe deep and sigh. My favorite smell is a baking triple chocolate bundt cake that is almost done. Or chocolate chip cookies. Or banana bread. Or pumpkin pie. Or maybe a giant turkey with gravy, sweet potato casserole, green bean casserole, mashed potatoes, Yankee dressing (what I refer to as my dad's most delicious white bread dressing... Perhaps I should say what Quinn refers to as my dad's dressing. Either way, it's magnificent.), and yeast rolls. Yum, I love food. I absolutely adore the smell of something yummy cooking in the oven.

Sometimes my house smells dank and unopened. It feels dark and smells of air conditioner. This time of year I love to open the windows in the morning and let that cool air drift through the house. It smells of fall. I can never fully explain the smell of fall. And I almost want to dread it because I detest being freezing, but then the end of September comes and I am in love and dream of boots and trouser jeans. I love the smell of a great candle, like vanilla bean or pumpkin spice.

Sometimes the smell of sweat overwhelms you in the house. Especially after exercise. And boys, with Crocs. Blech... Crocs make for nasty smelling feet. But then there is baby bath and Pert Plus and the boys are edible again and ready for cuddling. And the shower that I dread, especially when I wash my hair. Mmmm, my mother-in-law gave me this brown sugar scrub that smells so good and I love the smell of Pantene shampoo. Clean: hate to get there, but love to be there.

Sometimes I feel like that I'm repulsive in every way. I hate the way I look, or the way something fits. I hate that I overeat and that I'll never weigh 115 pounds. I just feel that, no matter how much I roll in my own perfume, I still have never recognized that it is my own filth and my love to revel in it outweighs the love for my Saviour. My life seems to be this never ending circle of faith, pride, unbelief, destruction, consequences, and repentance. He sees me differently and poored out Himself for me. How can that be? The essence of my life... I am clothed in the finest of robes though I see rags and I smell of the finest perfume though I deserve my own filth. Grace greater than all my sin!

Vision

'O God of grace, You have transferred my sin to my substitute, and have transferred His righteousness to me, clothing me with a bridegroom's robe, decking me with jewels of holiness. Yet I daily live as though dressed in rags - my best prayers are infected with sin; my tears of penitence are polluted with pride; my confessions of wrong are attempts at earning your favor which only increases my guilt; my receiving the Spirit is tainted with selfishness. I need to repent of my repentance; I need my tears to be washed; I have no robe to bring to cover my sins; no loom to weave my own righteousness; I am always standing clothed in filthy garments, and by grace am always receiving change of attire, for You do justify the ungodly; I am always going into the far country, and always returning home as a prodigal, always saying Father, forgive me, and You are always bringing forth the best robe. Every morning let me wear it, every evening return in it, go out to the day's work in it, be married in it, be wound in death in it, stand before the great white throne in it. Grant me never to lose sight of the exceeding sinfulness of sin, the exceeding righteousness of salvation, the exceeding glory of Christ, the exceeding beauty of holiness, the exceeding wonder of grace. Amen.'

Valley of Vision

We read the above in church yesterday in unison. I was struck by the accuracy of myself in it. Jesus is the Lover of my soul. My own sin stuns me. I am distracted by it and it continually makes me stumble. Very frustrating. I love the reminder that Christ brings forth His best robe, no matter how many times I leave as a prodigal. How sweet the sound!

FELLOWSHIP of the HILLS

Went to Christa and Jeremy's house last night (sure wish Christa, had a blog-she's a hoot... a-hem). Anyway. We had so much fun. When I say "so much fun" I mean I nearly wet myself laughing. Doubled over- I feel like I did crunches for two hours- laughter. With the children neatly tucked away upstairs (except for the babies) we just hooted and nearly cried over our shananigans. Virginia took pictures. Michelle Quinn absolutely is the most hilarious person that God ever placed on the earth. Carol Burnett reborn. She hits my funny bone just right. I had been looking forward to last night since Christa e-mailed about it two weeks ago. And it was just right. We came home at midnight (for those who are curious: yes. I was delirious after 10:00- really just made the stories funnier). I had Quinn laughing at one of Michelle's stories on the way home. Laughing hard. My children slept 'til 8:00 this morning. Unheard of. I actually did the "YES" arms this morning when I woke up and saw that the clock said 7:50. Perfection.
I love that God made us to interact and love each other. Laughter is the most ingenius creation. We had a fab-u-lous time.
Gotta get ready for two soccer games.

I am SOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO glad today is Friday. Not that the weekend is any less crazy, you understand, but at least I can let my kids watch TV on saturday morning with no guilt. Well, I do feel a leedle bit guilty after 4 hours, but hey, I just smooth on past the guilt. Just ROLL on. Big Mac Truck. Rolling over the guilt. Vroom. Toot, toot, chugga, chugga, Big Red Car... travel near and travel far. Love the Wiggles. Seriously. Maybe it's the Australian accent. I always was a sucker for accents.



I have a new reason for feeling guilty. We have instituted a new rule in our house. The rule is the boys' room has to be clean before they go to bed. This started innocently enough. The room just kept getting more and more trashed. I hated going up there at nighttime, knowing what was going to greet me. I talked to Maja (mother of 7 children has much knowledge) and was complaining about it. She told me that she had instituted a new rule of room must be clean before bedtime. She gives the girls (her two youngest) a check for a clean room and an X for a messy room. They are only allowed one X for the week. If they have more than one, then no TV saturday morning. Brilliant! 'I will institute this rule immediately', I said to myself. And I did. So this is our third week. I have shown "mercy" twice already. Or "forgot" about the X's. Am I so addicted to "Little Einsteins" that I have issues with consistency? Um, yes, I am.

So, they are cleaning their room right now. And they will watch "Little Einsteins" in the morrow. And I will drink coffee and watch the Biography preview channel with my husband like I do every Saturday morning. And feel guilty that I'm not showing consistency. And then get another cup of coffee.

Oh, well... maybe next week...

9/11


Well, today is 9/11. What a very sad, horrible anniversary. I had just found out that I was pregnant with the Si-guy and Quinn was off work that morning. We watched the Today Show in absolute horror. I will never, ever forget the fear and dread of that day. Even now, the footage just brings back that exact same feelings and I am back on that couch, unmoving and sobbing. I kept just saying 'surely there's nobody in those buildings... they've evacuated them haven't they?' And then I would see someone jump out the window. Oh dear God, the memory is torture itself. The horror of that day! Jason and Michelle (family-link to the right under Littles) had been to New York several weeks before and had had breakfast in the World Trade Center Restaurant. I, myself stood on top of one of the twin towers on an unforgettable trip to New York with some FBC friends in 1995. That's what I think when I look at pictures from that day. I stood up there and saw New York and laughed with my friends and took pictures. Crazy. What if it had been that day? At 20 years old, I had no knowledge of the bombing that took place there two years earlier. Mostly because I was completely ignorant of the news.
So now what do I think? The future freaks me out. I have three children and they are growing up in a scary society. No doubt, we will be a completely socialized government in 10 to 20 years (or at least medically). What will their lives be like with their wives and children? I have a good friend who was a bridesmaid in our wedding (Jodi) who lives in Canada. After having her little boy I asked her about her birthing experience. Did she have an epidural (women just ask these things, you know) and she laughed and said "you don't get an epidural in Canada unless you have a C-section". Think about that! Yikes!
The gospel is ringing in my ears now and I know that my children are being raised knowing the gospel. Christ is our only hope and we are hopeless without Him. I think about other countries, like China, who are not allowed to have the gospel and their country is busting at the seams with believers. Not just lame ducks like me either, but people who are alive and burning with it. Do I really want to be on fire? Of course, I'll say YES, because that is what I'm supposed to say, but really? What is it like to be trembling with fear and pain and refusing to recant the gospel? I don't know. I don't know. Will I ever? It's a possibility. It's a huge possibility with our kids. What's next?

Hey. Just did the Pilates class. Wow. Gonna hurt a little bit tomorrow. I'm excited about it though. If you've been thinking about it, COME! I think somebody said to me "I'm not wearing a tutu." Well, as much as I actually would like to wear a tutu, I don't think we'll be wearing them.

On a completely observational, neurotic note... I've gained five pounds this summer. Last summer I gained 7 pounds. I lost it in the winter. It seems I'm always in better shape in the winter. Why is this so? I know it certainly could not be that I'm lazy, LAZY in the summertime and snack the whole time on pool ministry days. I'm sure that is not the case. Anyway, it seems a little backward to me. And I know that it's just 5 pounds, but it makes a difference in the way clothes fit. It also drives me batty. Anyhoo. Perhaps I need to speak to my inner child. Tell her, "it's okay to put down the 1/2 gallon of Moose Tracks." Mmm, Moose Tracks does sound good. However, if I had it in the freezer, I would go to it with a spoon just to take a little, tiny bite and then completely lose conciousness with the fact that I am eating ice cream. Especially if the first bite revealed the delicately lined fudgy, peanut buttery stuff underneath. And then you have to push down your spoon a little bit harder to get it. And then it's the size of a mini candy bar. And that bite was just so good that you had to have "just a couple more bites" and then you're digging for the next bit of fudgy, peanut buttery stuff. Before you know it, 5 minutes has gone by and your hands are sticky and you throw your spoon down in disgust. It sure was good though. For this reason, I bought Edy's slow-churned chocolate chip cookie dough simply because I do not care for it. Quinn loves the cookie dough ice cream. Not a fan. Unless, of course, I make a batch of cookie dough and then put some in a bowl with a couple scoops of Breyer's Vanilla Bean and some homemade hot fudge sauce. yumness. You know, if I made the hot fudge sauce, I could probably choke down a couple scoops of cookie dough ice cream. Gotta go...

Did I mention the Pilates class?

I am so obnoxious at nighttime. Anybody got a good bean soup recipe? I thought I had one and I don't. I think I used to make one, but I don't remember what I did.

Tomorrow I am starting a ballet/pilates class that Michelle Davis (Briarwood Ballet Instructor) is teaching at our church for grownup ladies. FUN FUN FUN! If anybody is at all interested, the classes are $5 per class. And you can pay as you go. I can't wait. Maybe I'll be a dancer yet!

Okay, I tagged myself for the middle name game. It looked too fun to wait to be tagged. I think the rules are as follows: Come up with something meaningful for each letter of your middle name. If you do not have a middle name then I'm very sorry. Make up a middle name. If you are funny or especially insightful then make up a long middle name. Also, I would like to add that I will probably not come up with something meaningful for each letter of my name. I legally have two middle names because I'm cool and so I will choose Blair because it has two more letters than Sue. I may do both. After all, Charlotte is quite a long middle name (Abbey) and so I will begin now.

S - SLEEPY at 11:00 PM
U - UNORGANIZED unfortunately. However, with each child I have given birth to I have maintained a leedle more organization. I need approximately 5 more children to reach my peak of organizational ability.
E - EXCELLENT procrastinator. I am very good at procrastinating other duties so that I may do what I like to do. Like blog instead of loading the dishwasher and folding laundry. Or shower. We've already covered the weird shower thing though.

B - BOYS who knew that at eighteen when I longed to be surrounded by boys who adored me that it would turn out to be my adoring husband and three beautiful sons?
L - LAUGH out loud. BWA HA HA! I love to laugh, loud and long and clear! (anybody know that song? Mary Poppins) Apparently, I also use humor as a defense mechanism. Who knew?
A - AUDACIOUS oh yeah, that's me. I say things to complete strangers in the store and embarass the crap out of everybody I'm with. Or I return dishes back to the kitchen at a restaurant. My husband loves to go shopping or out to eat with me. I think he rolls his eyes for exercise.
I - IRRIDESCENT Yes, very shimmery. Almost like a fish. Gosh, I'm sleepy.
R - REALLY BAD DANCER but I can do choreography pretty good. I just have to learn it. Cannot dance off the cuff. It's very bad. Choreography: good Improvisational Dancing:Bad.


That's it. That is fun. I tag anybody who wants to be tagged. Lame. Don't call me a communist. Communist? Okay, I'm going to bed now. Do I make sense ever? Also, Kerri - you must blog. I know that you are almost peeing yourself right now. BLOG!

Morning Girl Ramblings

'tis a ramble this morning...

I'm the only one awake in my house at 6:30 am, which is kind of unusual. It's very quiet due to the fact that the box fan in the hallway that is always on (white noise is terrific) broke this week. I can hear the air conditioner and the coffee pot making its last "I'm done brewing" gurgling. It's nice being the only one awake, even if I did wake up at 5:30 randomly and couldn't go back to sleep. Side note... I actually get excited when I wake up at 5 to 5:30 because I can get up and blog while everybody is asleep. This doesn't usually work though, because the baby can always tell when I am awake. He's superbaby and can sense when I'm not asleep. Anyway, it is what is making this morning nice.

This has been a week of "what exactly happened?". Last weekend, Kerri and her girls came to visit (we missed you Mitt) and that was tremendous. Jason and Michelle and their girls came over on Saturday which was so fun and filled with laughs and Youtube sitings. Ja and Chelle are our only family that live in B'ham and we just don't see each other enough. Kerri and Mitt only live 2 hours a way and we don't see them much either. The fact that we see neither family much sucks. Not to mention that my family lives 9 hours away. Anyway... We made pineapple ice cream, which sounds good, but it wasn't and played Lord of the Rings Monopoly (which was wierd... I did love that the money was called 'power' instead of 'dollars' and we all had different accents to say power. Mostly it was asian, but maybe we were trying to say it with an English accent. 'I need 50 powa!') So fun. Sunday was church and community groups, which was great and Monday was Quinn's birthday. And then the week started and just flew by.

Yesterday was Friday (really?) and co-op started, and then Missy came over for lunch. She surprised me with the news of a blog (woohoo! link to the right) and we messed around with her blog while the kids were swimming. She asked ME, the computer genius, how to do stuff. And I could tell her. I still don't know how to e-mail pictures though. Last night I went to Crissy's house and there was a mass amount of people there and it was a blast. I just love mass amounts of people. I took some pictures for Maja of Brody and Felix in some of her gorgeous outfits (she creates patterns and makes these beautifully smocked and old-fashioned outfits that I just adore. She named a new pattern for a suit the "Felix". Yup, famous now. She is http://www.majasheirlooms.com/ ) We had spaghetti, coffee, brownies, and great conversation with the ladies. Here are some cute pictures of the boys. Brody and Felix are buddies. Felix calls him Bro-bro.

We got home and Silas had a very random bloody, bloody nose. Poor thing, it always freaks him out when he bleeds and we just have to work to calm him down.

So, today is Saturday. I HAVE to clean my house and do laundry today. It would be nice to run and go to the library. There is football today ('tis the season) and I need to catch up on lesson plans. I'd love to go to Sam's. We're babysitting tonight. No chance for non insanity today. I think I really must resolve this whole thing about not being crazy busy. I actually thrive on busyness, it makes me get stuff done.

Babies are all up now and chirping for breakfast. So long and have a great Saturday!

Check out my Slide Show!

Today is Quinn's 30th birthday. Last night we had our community group over and everybody brought black balloons and we all sang happy birthday when they came in. Funny. Too bad we had a little tiff about buying a box of tampons 10 minutes beforehand. Cause I was being snooty to him and a little female doggish (THE reason we were fighting about the tampons). Anyway, we had a great time and I adore our community group. We all just chatted, ate (the best ham ever), and the kids swam. Good times.

So he's 30 now. And he's married to me (for better or worse). And we've been married for eight years. And we've got three boys. Wow. Thanks babe. I love you more than chocolate. (really)

5:00 AM. So sleepy. Cannot go back to sleep due to baby kicking me in the head. I actually woke up at 4:30 and tried to go back to sleep but CANNOT do it. Felix has always been the kind of baby that never slept well. When he was itty bitty, he had skin eczema like crazy so his itchy little skin would itch and he would wake up all night. It was very frustrating because, at the time, we didn't know he had allergies and it would drive me crazy why he wouldn't sleep. Nevermind the bumpy, itchy, oozing skin (it honestly did not occur to me that those things would keep him awake. Brilliant, I know.). But now, his skin is gorgeous and he seems to have outgrown most of his baby allergies. Problem solved? Nope. Not sure why, but he still wakes up almost every night and cries for us. Now, we are "let-the-baby-cry,-he'll-be-fine-in-a-minute" kind of people. We shut the door to his room and let him fuss for a minute and he'll go back to sleep. But when we have company, we make him a pallet on the floor and he sleeps with us- which is why he is in our bed right now. And will be tonight. And tomorrow night. I dearly love having company (Quinn's sister Kerri and my dear nieces) and will not allow Felix to keep everybody else awake with his fussing, so in the bed he goes. He usually sleeps with his feet in my face (or Quinn's face) and kicks. Crazy night of sleep. This is also especially fun when we go to visit somebody else.

Oh well, I'm sure it will be something I laugh at later. Corin used to have horrible dreams and got in bed with us occasionally and Silas sleeps like a dead man (he was the BEST baby as far as sleeping goes... when he was awake he was trying to hurl himself off something). But both of them are definitely out of the baby phase and into the train-them-up-in-the-way-they-should-go phase. I do not want to wish the baby out of Felix, because it will end soon. And he is very cute. He is lisping sentences together now and my heart just swells when he says "I wub oo, Momma". Smooch. He's such a smoocher. Sweet baby.

I guess I'll just go make a pot of coffee and enjoy the kicking in the face while it lasts.