N' Stuff

I've been dealing with the 3 most fun things ever today...

Taxes/mortgage loans/Insurance

Oh, and kids
(ok, so that's 4)

PS- Have I mentioned that
Self employed + attempting to get a home loan = Bad news?

(I can hear my friends that want me to live in my parents basement forever cheering)

I'm still smiling though because of this video,

---> Beyonce & Justin Timberlake SNL <---

"Oh ya, we're warmed up like biscuits"
"Ya, like DANCE biscuits!"

In my opinion you need to watch it 4 times.
3 times to watch each separate back up dancer
and 1 more time to get the whole picture.

And what the heck, 5 more times just because it makes you and your husband laugh on a not so eventful Friday night.

Macie Has Been Here

Poor cat.

Never had chance.

"What happened to Kalebs hand?"

He broke it while bowling.
(At least that's what I told him to tell social services)

Okay. No seriously. He really did break it while bowling.
Lets just say it made for an awesome Valentines day.

I think Kaleb has been to the doctor every week for the past month and a half.

Week 1- Well child check up.
Week 2- Staple in his head.
Week 3- Staple taken out & immunizations.
Week 4- Develops a severe fear/paranoia/hate of the doctor.
Week 5- X-ray of his hand, referred to a Orthopedic doctor.
Week 6- Orthopedic doctor, permanent cast put on.

Week 7 & 8 (and probably 9 & 10)- Uses cast as a lethal weapon, terrorizes his sisters, and spends most of his waking hours in his room.

First things first.

Kaleb started exploring his creative/artistic side. It's this new "fun" thing called poo prints. It's about as exciting as it sounds and equally exciting to clean up.

One particular day Kaleb decided to do some poo prints in the tub after he went to the bathroom. When I saw what he had done I was like, "Uh, uh... no you di'int! " . Then I grabbed the Clorox wipes, put the boy in the tub and made him clean it.

Apparently he got a little carried away with the cleaning thing because minutes later he came screaming down the hall, with blood all over.

Yes, he fell and hit his head while cleaning the tub.
Did I just break some child labor/child abuse law?

Next, we have an attempt for some fun quality family time at the local bowling alley... on Valentines day.

(The above picture was about as exciting as my Valentines day got... ya baby, ya! You show that bowling ball who it's daddy is... cough, cough... ummm, so, anyway...)


Before the extreme bowling accident....

After the extreme bowling accident.
I should have explained to Kaleb that in order to participate in extreme bowling you need to remember not to cross the line. The line, that once you cross it, feels like you're walking on a slippery slide covered with Crisco. It would be especially bad if you crossed that line with a bowling ball secured tightly to your hand...

Which he did.

And the results were not pretty.

The results:

1st metacarpal fracture of his right thumb a n d rendering his hand un-insurable for the next two years. Yep, apparently it's not good to break any bones while you're in the middle of a health insurance application process.

This kid is ecstatic about his new cast. His only disappointment is that he can't break through stone walls.

I'm pretty sure he'll survive.

The question is, will his sisters?

Bed & Breakfast: 5 & 6 Year Old Style

Sure, Nate stayed in a 5 star hotel last night, but did he get breakfast in bed? I think not.

I was given strict instructions by two little excited kids to STAY IN BED this morning, "Mom, we're making you a S U R P R I S E!".

Be lazy?
Stay in bed?
Not get up?
If you insist.

5 minutes later those same two little kids came walking cautiously around the corner with a make shift tray full of my very own catered bed & breakfast.

And check out the presentation. The spoon wrapped in a napkin? That's 5 star dining right there.

The surprises didn't end there. Kaleb decided to add his own little culinary creation to the breakfast...

You've had cereal in milk, but have you had tortilla chips in milk? You don't know what you're missing unless you've tasted the combination of stale 4 month old Honey Bunches of Oat mixed with Salty tortilla chip goodness.

The best part of the breakfast was when my two little chefs hopped up onto the bed in front of me, propped their little chins on their hands and said,

"Go ahead Mom, eat it!"

"Oh! You mean, eat it now? In front of you? Tortilla chips and cereal?"

"Uh huh, ya Mom. Taste it!" Big grins spread across their anxious little faces.

"Ummm, OK. Here it goes..." I shovel a big spoonful into my mouth, careful not to swallow.

"Oh ya. Mmmmmm, that's gooooood" Trying not to drool out any evidence of the un-swallowed food.

"Eat some more Mom!"

"I will." big smile "Why don't you two run out and watch TV while I finish my nummy bed & breakfast!"

"OK Mom!" Two big kisses get planted on my face followed by two bobbing heads running out the door.

I quickly spit out the food.

Dispose of the evidence.

Walk out with an empty tray.

And rub my belly.

"Wow, you two are amazing cooks."

They look at each other.

"We know!"

I love my kids and just because I don't eat their soggy cereal and tortilla chips doesn't mean I love them any less... it just means I care enough about them to not vomit all over their lovely bed & breakfast. :)

The Blog Mullet

This might be really old news for some and new news for others, but I have another blog; it's my photography blog. It's the place where I keep my, you know, non-related family stuff and a place where I actually care what my pictures look like. It's not nearly as fun of a place as this, 'cause my blog is soooooo much fun, right?! (just a dash of sarcasm)

My photography blog is the more toned down, less sarcastic, don't-talk-about-fecal-matter version of me. I guess you could say I have a blog mullet,

"Business in the front and party in the back".

I'm not usually of fan of mullet's, but I definitely think a blog mullet is OK and fully excepted in the fashion world.

Well, I took some pictures of my sister's new baby- the sister who I wrote about here. I was going to post the pictures here, but it's kind of pointless to do the same post twice. So if you haven't seen the pictures then hop on over to my photography blog to check them out!

As far as the bicep goes in this shot (Amy O. I know you're diggin' it).
He hasn't had any work done.
It's real.
At least it feels real.
I'm pretty sure it's not a bicep implant.
I could be wrong though.
Wes, is there something you need to tell us?

Sharpen You #2 Pencils

It's time for a

There's nothing like a Friday surprise POP QUIZ to start your morning. I'll even make it easy for you... multiple choice.

Nate's out of town tonight (not an open invitation to stalkers).

So, what to do today?

Do I,

A. Not shower

B. Not clean my house

C. Not make dinner and hit the Wendy's dollar menu

or

D. All of the above

*There is no wrong answer unless your answer is to shower, clean my house, and make dinner.

**Automatic fail if your answer is how is this different from any other day.

Typical Everyday Conversation:

Kaleb: "Mom, Macie said I'm a PEE-PEE, BUM-BUM!"
Macie: "Nuhuh, Kaleb I didn't. I called you a P O O P I E BUM-BUM!"

Me: "Stop fighting. Jesus says love everyone, so dang-it, love everyone or so help me..."

Of course POOPIE BUM-BUM is also interchangeable with STINKY FACE, STUPID HEAD, KOOKY HEAD... pretty much all you have to do is take a negative adjective and add a head/face/bum at the end and there you have it, my kids vocabulary.

This is Macie's face right before she's about to do something naughty. Kind of Chucky-esque isn't it.
"Hi, I'm Chucky. Wanna play?"

I know my children love each other, the problem is convincing them that they love each other. I'm sure they will figure it out eventually, until then I have my mad referee skills handy.

He Loves Me...

Not because it's Valentines Day, but because he loves me everyday. I know. I've questioned it too, but it's true. Sometimes I need to pinch/bite him to make sure he's for real... and he is.

Today, during the middle of a very blah day, there was a knock on my door and there to greet me was this lovely bouquet of flowers,

Now I'm usually not a flower type of girl, which is hard when you're married to a flower type of man. I have given Nate strict instructions DO NOT BUY ME FLOWERS. All I see when I look at a fresh delivered bouquet of flowers are $ dollars signs $... cha, ching. But, when the sweet flower delivery lady handed me the perfectly placed bouquet of flowers I couldn't help but smile and guess what else... I didn't even wonder how much they cost. I think maybe, just maybe, I could get use to this flower thing.

(sigh)... aren't they purdee?

Baby Love

Meet Jody.
She is one of my four sisters.
We are 8 years apart.
Whenever we meet new people she likes to play the guess-who's-older game.
I tell the people to guess that I'm older (I want her to feel good about herself).

Jody & I love each other.
We love each other enough to be able to say things like, "Hey, check out the size of that zit! You could park a car on the sucker, it's so big." or "Did you actually pay money for that dress? It looks like a potato sack- a cute potato sack- but a potato sack none the less" (sorry Jody, I just am not a fan of the dress).
I've earned the right to make fun of Jody; I suffered through several years of her hairstyling experimentation.

Well, Jody was pregnant...

And a beautiful pregnant woman she was. I don't look any where near this good when I'm pregnant. I would post a picture as proof, but I love myself enough not to. On Saturday I had the awesome opportunity to be a fly on the wall in the delivery room... a 5 foot 3 inch fly with a rather large camera and a pretty awesome hair net. And really, I hope there are no flies in the operating room.

Before I went into the operating room for Jody's C-section I was all sorts of nervous and excited. Would I throw up? Would I faint? Would I yell out, "Wow, Jody, I can see your guts!"... I hoped not. I had watched plenty hours of the Discovery Channel and TLC's Bringing Home Baby to desensitize myself for this moment.

I walked into the room and Jody gave me an exhausted smile, "You doing okay Jo?", I asked "Yep, I'm surviving", she responded. The nurse quickly interupts our little moment, "The Doctor is just getting ready to deliver the baby. You might want to get your camera ready". Oh ya, my camera. That's why I was there. I forgot about that for a minute. I hurried and got my camera ready just in time to see the Doctor lift up the baby and say, "Well, he's definitely a boy!".

Now I'm not usually the crying type, but when I saw that little piece of heaven in all of his perfectness there in the Doctors arms I couldn't help cry... just a bit. It's amazing, these little souls that come down from heaven for us to love and enjoy. More importantly, I get to do the loving and enjoying part and my sister gets to do all the waking-up-in-the-middle-of-the-night and changing diapers part.

Isn't she a beautiful Momma?

The Daddy, checking out his new little man.

Oh, you naughty, naughty little baby Porter. You kind of make me want to have a baby of my own and even worse, you make my kids want me to have a baby.

This post would not be complete without a picture of me in my medical garb and a sassy little kissy face. ♫ I'm too sexy for my hair net, too sexy for my hair net, sooo sexy it hurts... ♫

Super Bowl Sunday

I'm going to out myself right now and just say it,

I only watch the Super Bowl for the commercials.

There. I've said it and now I feel much better. Usually people are like, Shhhhhh, shh, shhhh, the game is on! I'm like Shhhhhhh, shhhhhh, shhhh... here comes another commercial!.

In between some pretty funny and pretty lame (Go Daddy) commercials we sat down with Nate's family and had a little Sunday school lesson. I would like to call this lesson the 10 degrees of glory. It's kind of like the 3 degrees of glory, but totally different.

The 10 degrees of glory isn't something I can explain; it's something that you have to see with your own eyes to believe. And now friends, I give you

The 10 degrees of glory:

(thanks to Nate's twin brother, Dustin, for being the master chef)

I've done the math. I've added it up and HUGE does not fit through NOT HUGE very easily. I do, however, know that it is possible. I have given birth 3 times and it all magically, painfully seems to happen. I'm not, by any means, comparing Dustin's mouth to a birth canal. But I guess, if we wanted to, we could say that this is what it would look like if Dustin- or any other person- were to birth a sandwich backwards.

Next in line was the beer of root taste test. We took 10 different brands of root beer...

sorted them all out....

and then tasted away.

This is me getting my sip on. (I think somewhere down the line of my genealogy tree there is a Jay Leno branch.)

Now that I, along with Nate's family, have become root beer connoisseur's I can tell you what to drink and what not to drink.

Almost all of us chose A&W as the best drink out of the 10 others with Barq's trailing close behind.

The worst tasting, hands down, was Shasta root beer. Don't buy it. Ever.

Don't say I didn't warn you.

Confession:

The next time I'm asked the question, "Have you been honest in all your dealings?" I will have to say no. No I have not. I choose not to take full responsibility for this answer. I would like to blame my friends for this one.

You see, I've been happy and content for the past 6 years with my sweet little black purse. My friends would say little is an understatement. "Little black purse? Pffft, it's more like a wallet with a thin strap to throw over your shoulder!". Well, I resent that statement and so does my little black anti-wallet-with-a-strap purse.

I decided after a long close friendship with my purse it was time to find another one.

So I bought a new purse.
It was big.
I mean, really big.
Too big if you ask my husband.
Will I ever get this fashion thing right?
Odds are, probably not.

Now the problem with upgrading from small to super-sized is this. All that I had in my first little purse fits into one small zipper of my new over sized purse. You know it's bad when you have to come up with stuff to shove in your purse so you don't look stupid carrying it around empty. If you have any ideas feel free to shoot them my way.

Well, last night I found the one great advantage of having a larger than life purse. You can sneak food into movie theaters with ease. I'm not talking a couple of candy bars and a ding-dong. I'm talking two full bags of McDonald's drive-thru.

That's 2 boxes of 10 piece nuggets,
1 grilled chicken sandwich,
1 double cheeseburger, no ketchup,
1 biggie sized french fries,
and a handful of assorted dipping sauces (mostly sweet n' sour).

All that food fit into my purse like it was nothing and there was plenty of room to spare. I probably had enough room left over for a six pack of diet coke and a small child.

So I grabbed my fully loaded purse and headed towards the movie theatre with the whole little family trailing behind. Everything was fine until I walk up to the counter and I see a sign that says,

All of a sudden beads of sweat start to fall and the nerves begin to kick in. I start doubting my own food smuggling abilities. What if they ask to check my bag? I can see it now...

Excuse me Ma'am, but we need to check your purse.
What?! My purse? It's just your average ordinary mammoth-sized purse. You shouldn't have to check my p-p-p-purse.
Sorry Ma'am, but there's a suspicious smell originating from your purse.
Smell?! (sniff, sniff) What smell? I, I don't smell anything.
Ma'am, (man leans closer) it smells like a double cheeseburger, no ketchup and a biggie sized french fry.
Ooh, (awkward laugh) that smell. Well, I have one of those new kinds of purses, you know, the scratch and sniff kind (scratch, scratch, scratch). This particular purse happens to be from the new scented burger and french fry line. They're really hard to come by. (awkward laugh continues) Gotta love Ebay!
I apologize Ma'am, but you're gonna have to come with us.
Please, PLEASE don't take me! It's not my fault! It's the purse! The PURSE I tell ya!....

...I shake me head. "Pull yourself together Ginnie". Then I give myself a little pep talk;

Stay calm.
Act casual.
But not too casual.
Don't make eye contact with the ticket guy.
Scratch that.
DO make eye contact with the ticket guy or else he might suspect something.

I casually hand my ticket to the man (not too casual though), he hands it back and unenthusiastically says, "3rd door on the left. Enjoy your movie". Really? That was it? No checking of the purse for smuggled in paraphernalia? No 20 questions about the level of my integrity and my love of fast food? All that concern for nothing?!

So the next time I decide to sneak some more food into a movie am I even going to feel an ounce of guilt? And then what's next? Robbing a bank? Yes, my friends, I'm afraid there's no hope left for me. I've started a continuing downward spiral and it all started with a purse... a huge purse... that my friends pressured me to buy.

And the next time Nate's asked the question, "Have you been honest in all of your dealings?” he will have to answer no as well. He snuck in a large fountain drink full of Dr. Pepper under his coat.

Hey, if I'm going down, I'm not going down alone.
Pray for my soul...
and Nate’s too. :)

PS- I love my friends. If it weren't for them I would still have bangs, still peg my pants, still wear tube socks, still tuck my shirt in, still have a small purse, and still have my integrity. I kid. I kid.