I'm Sorry, E.

I'm sorry that you hate your job.

I'm sorry that the economy tanked six months after we decided it would be a good time to run your own custom cabinet company.

I'm sorry that our county lost over 13,000 jobs in the 1st QTR of 2008, 7,900 of which were construction jobs.

I'm sorry that I talked you into moving from our home in Virginia where all of our friends are so that we could have a "bright future" in Florida.

I'm sorry that there are rich asshats that think they can threaten you with lawsuits to bully you into changing the cabinet design after its already been installed.

I'm sorry that same asshat won't pay you for the beautiful cabinets that you installed in his home.

I'm sorry that you are depressed and stressed and that your gout keeps flaring up.

Most of all, I am sorry that today is your birthday and that you are having a really bad day.

I hope the cake Ray picked out for you will make you smile.

Happy Birthday, E. We love you!

Swirling Tummies

Picture this --

I am sitting by Ray's bed patting her back while her night night music plays softly in the background. The lights are low, almost off, and Ray is close to sleep. All of a sudden, she pops up, starts rubbing her belly and wiggling her upper torso.

"Mommy, I had yummy eggs for dinner and they are swirling around in my tummy and then they are going to come out my cheeks."

Then she laid back down and went to sleep.

The end.

A Note and Presents from Grandma

Grandma sent us a box with some clothes – 2 shirts for me and an outfit for each of the kids. This is what her note said:

Mitchy,

I put a gift receipt in the blouse. If you don’t like, take back. Macy’s. Everything is so ugly.

Love,
Grandma

She has such a way with words.

Rockin' Riley

These toys are evil and must be destroyed. Our "toy" plays the devil's music. Right after the children go to bed Rockin' Riley is going in the trash.

Seriously? What was McDonald's thinking?

Stinky Butts

What is it with boys and their poop? Chay could not care less about having poop in his diaper. He will go hours (yeah, sometimes I forget to check, call me a bad mom, k?) in poop without complaint. Sometimes I only find out because I pick him up and he's squished it all around to the point that its coming out the top of his diaper and between his legs. I've managed to train Ray to let me know when he's pooped, and, trust me, she's not afraid to check. She gives him random checks about every ten minutes if she happens to smell something she thinks may be poop. And god forbid he toots. She immediately insists we change his diaper because "Mooommmyyy, he's got a stinky butt!"

You see, Ray has never liked having a stinky butt. As evidence, I present the following photographic evidence (can you tell I've worked with litigators for 13 years?) taken when Ray was 16 months old:

I pooped. Please change my diaper. Whaa.

Look! I'm walking funny 'cause there's shit in my diaper! Whaaa!

Why isn't anyone changing my diaper yet?

Mommy, please make Mr. Chris stop taking my picture. And, by the way, change my damn diaper!


Whee! I've got a clean butt!

Wind In Her Hair

One of our favorite beaches is a small island which you can only reach by boat. We take a small community ferry, and Ray and Chay are fascinated by the waves, the pelicans, the dolphins that play in the wake, all of it.

Today, Ray was especially captivated by the wind in her hair:


Right before this picture was taken, Ray told me, "Mommy, I like the wind in my hair. It makes me look beautiful."

Nope, not a vain drop in her.

A Classic Shot of Ray and Chay

I have this picture as my wallpaper and it makes me laugh every day. Ray is about two years old and just learning to smile for the camera, and Chay is a smooshy little dude of only four months.

They are a funny looking pair.

Here's another shot of her perfect camera ready smile:

Check out those tonsels!

She Has SARS

Ray has had a fever for five days now and she goes in and out of feeling perfectly fine to being a really cranky beeotch. We took her to the doctor who said she has strep, prescribed her some antibiotics (shopping tip -- Publix gives you Amoxicilin at no charge) and sent us on our way. She's been home from school every day and spending her days with Nana who is on Spring Break. Which means she is getting very spoiled and generally loving being sick. She pathetically looked at me this morning and said "Mommy, I am so very sick. I need to go to Nana's and go swimming." Sick, alright.

E worries more than me about all things sick so this morning, after I announced that she still has a fever and won't be going to school, E said that we should call the doctor again because this just isn't normal. You know, because this is how that whole SARS epidemic started and her illness must be a lot more serious than plain ol' strep. Huh? How'd we go from strep to SARS? What about the bubonic plague? That needs to return sometime too, right? Being the more reasonable person in our household, I told him that I think that she's been on antibiotics for less than 48 hours so let's just chill the SARS talk for now. K?

Big Daddy Crabs

Check out our lunch today:

E was really craving foods from home, so he bought some Jumbo Blue Crabs at the market this morning. That crab right there -- is a $5 crab. He's huge. I was the lucky one that ate him.



Here's a good ol' boy before he got steamed and Old Bayed:


The Feast:



And the aftermath:

Yum.

It Was Bound to Happen (I Just Didn't Think It Would So Soon)

She said the "B" word. We aren't even sure where she learned it. Sure, E and I cuss like sailors, but the B word isn't a common one we use. I'm guessing she learned it from someone at school, because she definitely said it knowing she wasn't supposed to.

I was standing at the desk casually checking my email when Ray walked by muttering under her breath, "She's such a bitch." And then kept on walking past me into our bedroom. It took me a minute and then it hit me, "Wait, did she just say what I think she said?"

E: Huh? (That's his typical response. He's a caveman, that one.)

Me: I think she just called me a bitch. Ray, what did you just say?

Ray: (Looking sheepish. And guilty.) Nothing. I didn't say nothing.

Me: Ray, tell me what you said.

Ray: But, mommy, I didn't say anything!

Me: Ray, I want to know what you said.

Ray: (Whispers.) I said she's such a bitch.

Me: OK, we need to talk.

Then we did. We talked about words we don't say, why we don't say them, and how important it is to only say nice things about other people. I also asked her exactly who she was referring to in case she was talking about me (not me!) and she said no one. So, she's mad at someone but I'm not sure who. Maybe Barbie or Cinderella did something to upset her.

I also told her that I would put her in time out for a month if she ever said a bad word again -- with no special treats for an additional year. That is when she promised to never say a bad word again.

He's Mine

Here is a recent photo of Chay:

He's turned into one of those seagulls from Finding Nemo. Everything is "mine." And he says it in the exact same voice as those seagulls. If he wasn't so cute, it would be annoying.