And you thought I was kidding...

Calling all prayer warriors!

It's strawberry night!

Update 7:25 pm

Imagine the tiniest sliver of strawberry you can smothered in chocolate dip. That's what Parker finally swallowed after he gagged and cried and gagged and cried. That's all I had the energy for tonight. There better be a few extra jewels in my heavenly crown. On second thought, maybe my crown could be made of bacon. Now that's a reward!

Finally Finished!

I finally finished the Twilight book series a while back. Now I'm reading this...

Should be interesting, so I'll probably post some thoughts while I make my way through the book. Have any of you read it?

Grapes of Wrath

See this...

A single purple grape. Sounds simple enough. A little grape just like this one just about caused two nervous breakdowns yesterday (mine and Parker's). How is that even possible, you ask?

Parker has decided that he doesn't like fruits or vegetables (unless you count mashed potatoes and applesauce). We are trying so hard to help him understand that a lot of foods taste really good if he will just give them a try. Especially fruit! For Pete's sake, it's sweet like candy! (I wonder what Pete ever did to get his name in that phrase!)

Night before last, we worked on apples. It wasn't easy, but he finally ate one slice of apple. I even offered him chocolate fruit dip to help him get over the obvious grossness that is the apple. Last night was grape night. I wanted him to eat one grape. Yes, just one grape. You'd have thought I had asked him to eat raw liver with a side of slugs. He cried and he gagged and he cried and he gagged. Oh and by the way, did you know that a grape has salad inside it? Well, Parker says it does because he saw a little hint of green in the middle of it. He dissected about four grapes before he finally swallowed enough to call it done.

We've tried everything and this issue is not new around our house. Please stay alert because I'll be sending out a special prayer request when strawberry night rolls around. THE SEEDS! IT'S RED! IT'S JUICY! Sweet Mercy...

Feels Like Yesterday

Way Back Wednesday

June 2006

Did you know I was in jail back in college?

I promised a post about my RA (Resident Assistant) days. I lived in a teeny, tiny room my freshman year of college in Lucille Clement Hall with a roommate. I had to go down the hall to the shared bathroom. Our room was seriously the size of my walk-in closet.

The next year, I became a RA in Carter Hall. If you look closely at the picture, my room was on the first floor, all the way to the left. See those two tiny little windows to the left of the door, those were mine. I had a great room as far as dorm rooms go. It was really large, all to myself, with a private bathroom. Heaven on campus earth. For the most part, our dorm was uneventful. Most of the people who lived there were upperclass(wo)men. I was "on-duty" one night a week, and one weekend a month. When I was "on-duty", I couldn't leave the dorm at all. Not even step outside. Basically, I was in jail. I usually convinced my friends to stay in jail with me. And then there was my mom making honey mustard deliveries. The weekends were the worst. Not only was I confined to the building, but I also had to "make rounds" EVERY HOUR. This meant I was supposed to walk the halls of all three floors to check for suspicious activity, make sure doors were locked, etc. Basically, I was on "boyfriend and pot patrol". I even had to go to the creepy basement laundry room which also had an outside door. This is where I was convinced the creepy men would find a way in and hide. It was monotonous and scary at times.

I loved living on campus, it was free, and I adored my big private room. Overall, I'm thankful for the experience, but I could have lived without that laundry room!

Any of you have a dorm or RA memory?

Smack Me A Somerset

A lot of people asked me about the phrase "Smack Me A Somerset" that I used in my honey mustard post. Being one who doesn't like to leave people with questions, I began to research. I have heard my mom say smack me a somerset all my life. I have in turn said it all my life. My mom says her mom said it all her life. Do you see the pattern? Oh, and she also added that my Aunt Jeannie has said it all her life. The jury is still out as to whether my Aunt Wava and Aunt Brenda have also said it all their lives. I'll keep you posted as updates develop in that area. I know you'll be on the edge of your seats waiting for that update.

Thus far, the conclusion has been drawn that it is a family phrase and not a regional, Southern phrase. If anyone out there has ever said smack me a somerset "all of your life", please let me know.

Official Definition:

Me: Surprised

My Mom: "Oh, I'm surprised!"

I predict I'll keep saying it. It's hard to break a lifelong habit!

Can a pony eat an ice cream cone? I'm just glad Jason's gone!

How's that for random?

No American Idol post this week. I was totally prepared to do one, but I just can't get myself motivated to write it. I am so underwhelmed with American Idol so far this season. Here's hoping it gets better!

Also, no "After The Final Rose" Part Deux post either my friends. Sweet Melissa didn't even show up (good for her). Therefore, I won't give any more blog space to that mess of an ending.

And lo, no Lost recap either. My brain is too tired.

Instead, I thought I'd just ramble a little about what we've been doing around here lately.

Welcome to Ponyville

(I didn't promise an exciting post, just a random one)

Here are the ponies posing in a line-up for you. Immediately after this picture, they did some mighty fine high kicks that would put any Rockette to shame.

And here they are just livin' their lives, going about pony business as usual.

After the pony playing, I found my sweeties watching tv all cuddled up in laundry baskets, pillows, and blankets.

And now...

Welcome to Seussville

Parker finally returned to school after what will forever be remembered as "The Great Stomach Virus Epidemic of 2009". His class have been celebrating Dr. Seuss this week. I went with him on a field trip yesterday to the library for some fun Dr. Seuss stories and songs.

Then to Dairy Queen for a treat. Have you ever tried to take approximately 65 kindergartners out for ice cream? Just wondering, because I have. After the initial mass chaos of getting the ice cream distributed to all 130 little hands, they actually did really great. (Side note: I just did that math in my head).

After the field trip, I picked up Claire from preschool. We stopped by a different Dairy Queen to get her some ice cream because life is nothing, if it's not fair. Right?