Thursday, August 18, 2011

Angry...

at Angry Birds...

These cute little birds are angry at pigs. While they're trying to take down pigs, I'm trying to get my kid's attention...just a little.

This morning I told them I loved them four times, to which, I received NO REPLY. NO REPLY to an I LOVE YOU...What?! So, I then said, Have a great day. Be good. Learn lots. Play hard. NO REPLY. The kicker...only one of them was actually playing the game, the other little one (he-who-must-not-be-named...Palmer) was just watching. GEEZ!

So, little birds here's my message to you: You're cute. You're determined. But, when you're tired, can you send my kids back to me? Please?! Otherwise, your little app, might be deleted. Possibly. I can play with you and still cook dinner, watch a show, and yell at the boys all at one time...

Beautifully Blessed and Truly Thankful to have Angry Birds when I really need my kids to be "entertained" for a few minutes!
Chasity

Wednesday, August 17, 2011

A Mouse...

in the house...

Silly little critter found his way into our house and ever since that time, Brent has become a mouse hunter. Not a deer hunter. Not a duck hunter. A mouse hunter. For real.

Brent found his house. Little thing gave himself away.

One hunter. One mouse. Someone's not going to make it out alive.

Unfortunately, that someone was almost little Palmer. Keep reading for that story...

After setting traps (not the old Spring kind, but the kind they get stuck in), nothing. nada. zero. zip. For a hunter, the man becsme even more obsessed. Thank goodness the boys and I were out of town. Poor mouse. Brent and he were on a showdown. So far, Mouse 10. Brent 0.

Then, the hunter gave up?! gave in?! or just thought the mouse was gone. NOPE.

After a crazy busy day and finally sitting down for dinner (Chick Fil A because I'm a great Mom...ha ha ha) we were surprised by a random noice...squeek squeek squeek...it really sounded like a mouse. Brent's eyes met mine. My eyes met Brent's eyes. We knew. But thought, no, It can't be. THEN, we heard it again. I'VE NEVER SEEN THE MAN MOVE SO FAST. The craziness in his eyes. The look of "I GOT HIM." When it hit us, we ALL jumped up...did we get him?! Clearly, this is the first time we've ever had a mouse in our house.

We all jumped out of our chairs and started to run. Poor little Palmer was almost as much of a casuality as the mouse. Somewhere along the way, Brent accidentally shoved him into the chair. Little man got squished! Imagine all 4 of use trying to see if we got the mouse, who by the way, is next to the refrigerator in a 3 in. space.

Well, we got him. We only got him because I apparently scared the "bejesus" out of him (according to Brent) when I went to get the ketchup out of the fridge. He just accidentally stepped in the trap. Poor little guy managed to escape all the traps and then ultimately, got scared by me. Figures.

Well, here's to no more mice. And no more mouse hunter.

Whew! Three weeks of not knowing where that little thing was. Although, I did discover the torn up bag of cheetos. Cheetos were his downfall.

Beautifully Blessed and Truly Thankful to be rid of one Mouse Hunter,
Chasity

Saturday, August 13, 2011

Alabama...

Don't get me started.

Those of you that know me, know how I feel about "A.L.A.BAMA" (imagine Forrest Gump saying that).

****if you like Alabama, now's the time to STOP reading****

To get from Point A: Tennesessee to Point B: Florida, driving through the entire state is a requirement. It's painful. I have nicknames for every town. I'd share, but I truly might offend my friends that live in Alabama and have continued reading my blog. I've long since stopped worrying about offending my husband who was born in the great state of Alabama.

Let me be clear...some good things have come from Alabama: My husband, his families, some great friends, Bear Bryant, Bobby Bowden, my dog's name and some great football games. But that's about it.

Worst fear (ok, maybe not the worse, but close)...living in Alabama. Second closest worst fear...getting stranded in the middle of nowhere in Alabama with no cell phone service. IT. ALMOST. HAPPENED. TODAY.

In an effort to find a shorter route to get home, my MIL gave me a shortcut to take from Destin to I-65. My MIL was kind enought to draw me a map even though she was exhausted from putting up with us for a week at her house -- of course, now that I just wrote that, it hit me...maybe her true intentions were for us to actually get lost in Alabama. Another story for another day. Anyway, at 4:30 IN THE MORNING, I missed the turn. MISSED. THE. TURN. Not something one wants to do in Alabama. at 4:30 AM. With two small children.

Did my beating heart wake anyone up this morning?! Kids, in the backseat with drool running down their mouths, while they are in safely in dreamland (not Alabama). I'm seven miles past the sign where I thought to myself..."should I turn? I don't remember MK saying anything about turning!" It's getting darker and my cell phone now reads "No Service" It's been at least 10 years since I last saw a message like that on my phone. Next...I see were entereing a National forest. GREAT! Then, I see it...the deliverance sign that made me decide to turn around. 60 mph to 0 mph in 1.2 seconds. 180 degree turn on a two-lane road done with perfect precision. Hand on chest, prayers being said...I'm going back to make the turn I probably should have taken.

Now, I promised my MIL I wouldn't call her at 4:30 AM to ask her any questions. I called. and called. and called. NO ANSWER. I'm pretty sure she said, "Call me if you get lost." (Again, I'm starting to think that maybe she planned all of this.) 45 minutes later I get to a sign that looks like maybe I made the right decision to turn away from deliverance! Halleleujah! A lot of prayers were sent up and Jesus delivered...He didn't want us to be stuck in Alabama either.

EVERY name I have for every town in Alabama was used on the way home. Don't worry, the kids didn't hear me. They were too busy fighting (ha ha...actually they were really good the entire way home).

So, 8 instead of 7 hours later, we arrived home. I don't think I've ever done the "entering Tennessee" dance, but I dang sure did today. Thank goodness for Tennessee and Florida rescuing us from Alabama.

Tonight, when Brent asked me if I wanted to watch "Sweet Home Alabama," I not-so-nicely replied, NO! Had about all of Alabama I can take for one day. He laughed and agreed with me (and he was born there)!

Beautifully Blessed and Truly Thankful to be home (or at least, out of Alabama),
Chasity

Wednesday, August 10, 2011

Waterguns...

and me, do not mix.

It could be the history of getting shot in the eye and the mascara getting all messed up. It could be the curly hair that was painstakingling straightened and then became a frizzy, curly mess. It could be the fact that my peach margarita was spilled.

Today, it was the peach margarita that took the hit.

Picture the scene...on the beach (with two little boys -- what?! Did the "with the two little boys" give it away). Enjoying an awesome sunset while roasting hot dogs and making s'mores beachside and watching the waves roll in (I know, the perfect scene, right?!). Then whack, a watergun fight is declared and there goes the sanity that was encased in my margarita. Forget that it took out a hotdog too.

First instinct -- grabbed. the. drink. Didn't think to save Palmer's dinner. Poor little guy, he looked like he could miss a few meals and he'd still be ok (seriously, I'm kidding about this).

I guess it's a good thing I hardly drink. Else, I might have been REALLY upset. But, still, stupid waterguns. Nothing good ever comes from those things...except maybe when I get a hold of one and take down one of the boys...ok, that's funny (of course...it's all fun and games until someone get's hurt and cries. and cries. geez)!

Darn waterguns. I left them at my Mother-in-Laws house (no humor in that whatsoever. nope. none.) Darn things WERE NOT RETURNING to Tennessee. EVER!

Beautifully Blessed and Truly Thankful to leave those stupid things in Florida,
Chasity

Monday, August 1, 2011

Humor...

I totally have a sense of humor. I think.
I know my husband does. My children think they do...a lot (I'm sorry, but farting on someone's head does not make you funny, but alas, my kids think so).

Anyway, I've set a new goal. To find humor. Not necessarily be funny, but find humor in everything.

So, keep reading. I'm going down a very funny road. You might be the subject of my humor. You might just find the subject humorous. Whatever the case, stay tuned...for laughter (well, it might not make you laugh, but it dang sure made me laugh...ha ha ha!)

Beautifully Blessed and Truly Thankful for a family that makes me laugh and turns me gray-haired all at one time,
Chasity