My think...

The following is a conversation I had with Brooke a little over a week ago.

"Mama, I talk in my think, it changes.  I'm thinking all day Mom."

"What do you think about?

"I'm afraid to tell you this.  This is what I am thinking. I think it everyday, and I like it."

"Well, what is it?"

"This is my favorite thing in the whole wide world, to have a life saver.  It has buttons on it, and when I push them, it changes my whole family.  My family gives me whatever I want.  I want it to happen, but it won't."

(No, it won't happen, but it never hurts to dream.  Sometimes I wish I had a button I could push and get everything I want, like a good night's rest, or a wide angle lens, or an external flash, or a Wii, or an end to world hunger, the list goes on...)

Here's Your Sign

I just hate stupid people.

They should have to wear signs that just say I'm stupid.

That way you wouldn't rely on them, would you?

You wouldn't ask them anything. It would be like, "Excuse me...oops,

never mind"

"I didn't see your sign."

It's like before my wife and I moved from Texas to California our house
was full
of boxes and there was a u-Haul truck in our driveway.
My friend comes over and says, "Hey, You moving?"


"Nope."


"We just pack our stuff up once or twice a week. Just to see how many
boxes it takes."


"Here's your sign."


Why can't they get the picture? Why don't they understand?
We're not dealing with the planet of apes, we're talking about the
modern man.
So you people with them itsy bitsy teensie weensie tiny minds...
Here's your sign. Here's your sign.


A couple of months ago I went fishing with a buddy of mine, we pulled
his boat
into the dock, I lifted up this big 'ol stringer of bass this idiot on
the dock
goes, "Hey, yall catch all them fish?"
Nope.
"Talked 'em into giving up."
"Here's your sign."


-Bill Engvall

Do you ever wonder why some people even bother opening their mouths?  I know I do, like exactly four days ago standing in line at Old Navy. I was with three of my four cuties waiting in a line that seemed to go on forever, praying that no major catstrophe would take place.  I guess before I continue with my story, I should introduce you to my dear sweet daughter Emma.

For those that know Emma, you know she is absoultely adorable, full of life and joy.  Emma also is very much an independent thinking, free spirit, preferring to do almost everything herself; she also could care less what anybody thinks of her!  Though her personality lends itself to some meltdowns and whine fests, we still wouldn't trade her for anything!  Just her little smile and voice brings a smile to my face, and I love her hugs!  Anyway, you may also know that I believe in allowing my children to dress themselves, and you may also know that I don't mind going out in public with my children dressed in very "creative" outfits; I obviously also don't care much about what other people think.  My children's self confidence and increasing independence mean more to me than someone else's opinion; it must, because Emma often leaves the house with two different shoes on her feet, sometimes not only is she sporting two different shoes but they are often two right shoes or two left shoes.  On this particular day, Emma was sporting a pink sandal, a pink and brown flip flop, jeans, a shirt that was a little small (that she was determined to wear), and a little blue jean jacket; she thought she looked quite cute thank you very much, but I digress. 

As we were standing in line, I heard from behind me,

"Ma'am, did you know that your daughter has on two different shoes?" 

Without giving it much thought, I turned around and stated,

"Yes, she dressed herself today, and she is very proud of herself.  On the days she dresses herself, we just look at her and say, 'You look beautiful'. " 

I then turned back around and continued to stand in line, not feeling that the woman needed any more explanation or any explanation for that matter.  If it doesn't bother me, and I am the mother, why should it bother her?!!!! 

Maybe next time though, the exchange should go something more like this:

"Ma'am, do you know that your daughter is wearing two different shoes?"

"Nope."

"I haven't looked at my child at all today; I don't even know how she got here."

"Here's your sign!"

Free Range Farm Field Trip

As promised, here are the pictures from our field trip; the Thursday before Thanksgiving, the girls, Colton, and I went with the MOPS group to visit a free range farm.  The pigs and goats were fenced in, but the chickens and a mean, had the nerve to gobble at and scare my sweet Emma (hope they killed that sucker for Thanksgiving), turkey were running free.  They gave each of the girls a bag of chicken feed to feed the chickens with, which was fun once Emma learned not to throw the feed at the chickens; no wonder they ran away from her for most of the trip, well, that, and she kept chasing them.  We also went on a hayride around the farm, and walked to see the pigs, as per Emma's request.  After seeing the farm and all the animals, we had a picnic, and the girls each ate their bag of animal crackers and hard boiled eggs they had been given.  We also went home with a carton of a dozen free range eggs; all in all, it was a fun,  learning experience, especially for this city girl!

Later that night we went home and turned these

into these,

and talked about how this

comes from these;

we then gobbled it all up, mmmmmm, delicious!