Our last AFV show!

So our last AFV secret is out. We didn't win the grand prize vacation for the season. And yes, my kids were disappointed. You can see them crying behind Tom Bergeron. It was also about 3 AM when we filmed that show, and all of us were totally exhausted. I didn't blame them for crying, to tell you the truth. I didn't really have the energy to be disappointed. At that point I just wanted to go to sleep!
We have had an amazing ride during our time on the show. Two trips to LA, one trip to Disney World, and $110,000 is not too shabby for a few seconds of video shot with my cell phone! I couldn't be more excited about the way things turned out. My family got to have so many new and wonderful experiences because of that video. I got to experience pure bliss more than once, and that's sometimes hard to come by. We are so very grateful to have had this amazing opportunity! Remembering the fact that the one who urged me to send our video in was my late friend Beth, I can't help but think that she and my mom were pulling some strings for us up there!  

Late Night Comedy Club

I have shared before (and I am sure that he's oh-so-grateful) the fact that my husband does his best comedic work in the middle of the night. A couple of days ago, it happened again. At approximately 4:30 AM, he wrote what I'm pretty sure could qualify as a Saturday Night Live skit.
Allow me to set the scene for you. Two utterly exhausted parents lay sleeping in their bed, trying desperately to make use of each and every peaceful second of slumber. Suddenly, at approximately 4 AM, the mother is snatched from her blissful state of REM sleep by the sound of a wailing child. Snapping to attention and wiping her eyes, she hears those dreadful words, "Mommy, I wet my bed!"
Naturally, the first word that went through my mind was not "pee pee" although it did involve a bodily function. Fortunately, it didn't come out of my mouth. I stumbled to the laundry room in search of clean sheets, underwear, and pajamas. My daughter headed to the bathroom, ostensibly to finish what she started in her bed.
By the time I got upstairs, my husband was standing there running his hand over her sheets. After the third time, he looked at me and announced, "If she wet this bed, I can't find it!" After I came to the same conclusion, I shoved the clean sheets in a drawer and headed back downstairs. My child's nightgown wasn't wet either, and we finally came to the conclusion that I "wet the bed" meant there were three drops of pee in her underwear. Apparently she started to go and woke herself up. Thank goodness for small favors.
One clean pair of underwear later, she was tucked back into her bed and I was halfway back to dreamland when Mr. Comedy started his routine. Judging by how wide awake he was, he obviously has not mastered the skill that most mothers are very familiar with...the ability to handle almost any situation while remaining at least partially asleep. So there we were, trying desperately to get that last hour of sleep that we needed so badly, when my husband's sense of humor kicked in.
In his best infomercial voice, he suddenly said, "Introducing the NO PEE, an industrial strength diaper for older kids! Got a kid who wets the bed? Not anymore! Just get them a NO PEE and sleep blissfully through the night! Just ask little Sally!"
In his best little Sally voice, "I wet my pants NINE times last night, but thanks to the NO PEE my sheets stayed nice and dry!"
Back to infomercial announcer voice: "The NO PEE comes in fashion colors, so your kids can be totally discreet. And this just in...announcing the BEER PEE for dads! Now your dad doesn't even have to leave the couch on those long football Saturdays! Available in your favorite teams and colors! Wear it under your Snuggie and be totally discreet! Order in the next 30 minutes and receive your FREE gift!"
I don't know if that conversation is as funny on paper as it was in person, but instead of sleeping I once again found myself laughing so hard I was gasping for air. There might have even been a snort in there. At 4:30 AM I laughed to the point I was wishing I had a NO PEE. Just another day in the life of being married to this guy.
And now I have to go. I was pondering what the sound was that was coming from my kitchen. It sounded suspiciously like some sort of demolition. My two year old daughter has arrived with her keyboard and the electric screwdriver  to inform me that the batteries are dead. I'm going to go out on a limb and say we are out of AA batteries. Oh, darn! ;)

Muffin Top

It's always refreshing and humbling to be around people who just speak their minds. My children specialize in this particular area. This morning I walked into the kitchen after finishing my 4.3 mile run to find my daughter standing there in her nothing but her My Little Pony underwear. On the table were at least twelve school outfits.
"Mom, I need help finding something to wear. I've tried on everything on this table and nothing fits!"
"Okay, well there are two pairs of denim shorts right there. They'll go with any shirt here. I don't see the problem."
"Well, I tried these on and they are too big. They're a size 6."
"Yes, they are too big, because you wear a size 5. Here."
"Hmpf! I am six years old, not five! I'm so tired of being little!"
"Baby, the size of your clothes has nothing to do with your age. And trust me, when you are older you will be glad that you have a small frame, Skinny Minnie! I used to be skinny, too. You're built just like me."
After a moment of careful thought, she said, "Mama, I think you're pretty skinny. Well, except I mean you have this little ring around your middle." She put her hands on her waist to emphasize the last part. "If you could just, you know, make that a little smaller, then you would be really skinny."
Gee, thanks, I think! Nothing like having a brutally honest person point out your muffin top! Just gives you a shot of self esteem to start your day. Guess it's back to the treadmill for me!

Mother's Day Lessons

As usual, there are a million things rolling around in my mind that I want to get down on paper. I'm pretty sure most of them will never make it out of my brain, and a lot of them probably shouldn't. However, since yesterday was Mother's Day, I felt like I had to slow down long enough to jot something down. Mother's Day is always a difficult day for me, as I am sure it is for lots of people. Those who have lost mothers, children, and the children of moms who aren't so great don't have a lot to celebrate.
Seems like I always miss my mom just a little more at this time of year. And, yes, I am so very grateful to have been blessed with my three beautiful girls. They make me happy each and every day (at least once.) They also drive me completely crazy, but I suppose it's a short trip. I'm pretty sure they think that I get up and let the sun out every morning, which to be perfectly honest, is a tremendous amount of pressure. I really try to be the person they think I am each and every day, and at the end of the day I generally feel like I have fallen short.
Last night, however, I got to teach a "parenting" lesson that I'm fairly certain I never daydreamed about while lying around like a beached whale on bedrest during my pregnancies. I got to explain what a "wedgie" is! Be jealous, ladies, be jealous.
I have to admit that I'm not really sure how the subject came up, (I think it had something to do with Spongebob) but suddenly there was a short person behind me touching me in an extremely personal area. And then the following chain of events took place.
With a completely straight face, I yelled, "Girls! I am not sure if you understand what wedgie means! Giving someone a wedgie does NOT mean sticking your finger up their butt!" My husband immediately began to laugh. I feel the need to point out that it wasn't a giggle, but one of those laughing so hard no sound is coming out laughs. His eyes began to water, and the next thing I saw was him lie down on the kitchen floor. Keep in mind that there was still no sound coming out. After a few moments I began to wonder if he was having a heart attack.
The kids and I all rushed into the kitchen, at which point he grabbed my daughter and administered a properly executed wedgie. She screamed, she laughed, and then suddenly looked thoughtful. After along pause she said seriously, "I'm not sure if I'm going to kiss you goodnight tonight." She proceeded to remove her underwear from her backside and then yelled, "But I am going to touch you with my wedgie hand!"
The most awesome monkeypile ever ensued, right there on the kitchen floor. And I was able to laugh on Mother's Day, which was the real gift. Thanks, guys!   

Still going...

I ran 3.75 miles this morning. I'm telling you this not because you care, but because I want documentation of the fact that I actually traveled that far under my own power and not under any sort of duress and didn't die to exist somewhere in cyberspace. By "not under duress" I mean that I wasn't being chased by anyone or anything, like a Doberman or a zombie. l just made up my mind and set a goal, and I'm doing my best to get there this week! I still haven't run to the point of puking, although this morning I got dangerously close. I can count on one hand the number of times I've experienced that particular bodily function in the last ten years, so it's going to be sort of a big deal when it actually happens. I'll be sure to let you guys know, because I know you're interested in that sort of thing. (That last sentence was written in my sarcastic font.)

I have begun to consume massive amounts of water. Okay, maybe not massive amounts, but at least I'm finally getting the eight glasses a day you are supposed to drink. Of course, the wonderful side effect of that is me needing to pee every thirty seconds. Brings back some not so fond memories of my pregnancies. Oh well, at least I'm doing something that's good for me, for a change. I'll try not to make a habit of it.

Road Trip!

Today I'm excited to be spending the day with my husband, minus our three precious children. My big girls are at school and I've hired a babysitter. So what sort of romantic, fun-filled day is in store for me? A picnic lunch, or maybe a corner table at our favorite restaurant? Nope, a trip to the feed mill in Demopolis to pick up horse feed! And the truth is, I wasn't kidding about being excited. From the time we met, I have always enjoyed spending time with my husband. Talking to him is like a sport. He always makes me laugh, and we are forever discussing our next business adventure. (No, that wasn't a typo, any business venture we are involved in always seems to turn into an adventure, some good and some not so good.)
Having a few hours to ourselves to discuss things we enjoy without someone yelling, "Mama, mama, mommy, ma, ma, mother, mommy" is truly blissful. Sometimes I think that my lack of ability to focus on the task at hand is less a product of "mommy brain" and more like the result of being interrupted constantly by short people. Perhaps I can't concentrate for more than five seconds because I'm never allowed to try! At any rate, the babysitting money is definitely well spent! 
It's so important to be married to someone you can talk to. I feel certain we will not solve a single one of the world's problems today, but we'll definitely have a laugh and reconnect with one another. And maybe, just maybe, we'll figure out something monumental, like who let the dogs out.

All About Perspective

I don't know how many times I've heard the expression "it's all about perspective." As far as I'm concerned, truer words were never spoken. The other day, my daughter told my husband that she wished she could be me. At first I was flattered, then she added, "Yeah, cause if I was mom, I could sleep late and take naps!" My incredibly sweet and patient hubby then pointed out that by the time they get up for school, mom has usually run three miles. And apparently she had conveniently forgotten who fixes her hair every morning. (Cause it's not her fairy godmother!) And we all know lunches make themselves and laundry washes itself, right ladies? Not long ago her sister informed me that I "don't have a job" and I was moved to devote an entire chapter to the subject in my book.
My perspective on parenting has definitely changed. I have said before that the twins were my "practice kids." After surviving the first four years with them, I knew before she ever made her grand entrance that things were going to be different with my third child. Never was this fact more evident than a few weeks ago, when she spent the entire weekend at a barrel race wearing a Sleeping Beauty dress over her clothes. The whole "I would never have let my other kids do this" thought crossed my mind again later the same weekend when I was watching her sit and play in the only mud puddle at the whole facility. What can I say? You live and learn...to pick your battles.
On another note, as anyone who picks up a new sport does, I have been reading up on running. Among other things, I have learned that you can't really call yourself a runner until you have run to the point of puking. In that case, I am officially a still a "wogger." I'll be sure to alert the media if my status changes.