Maggie's birthday party at Ginnie Springs..................

Maggie's birthday brownies.................

Maggie's cousin, Josie trying to bust a water balloon over Mag's head..........little did she know that Mag's head is made of steel!

Maggie..............water balloon.....................READY!

Lucas & Matt heading in....................

one of the many entry points into the springs....................

Ryley & his cousin, Hayden diving for treasure..............

Ryley & Maggie before we even left the springs...........

Me and Kirk heading home after a wonderful day spent with family.........



My beautiful daughter, Bailey with my beautiful mom!




My brother's family ready to head home after a long day at the springs.........

Maggie's 7th birthday turned out to be a week long celebration that ended with the big bang............Ginnie Springs. My mom took all of my kids & all of Matt's kids to the springs camping. The kids had fun camping Friday night with all of their cousins and then Matt, Katy, Kirk and I headed over Saturday morning. We spent the day eating(we did lots and lots of this!), throwing water balloons, tubing, swimming, collecting cans(Matt turned out to be quite gifted at this sport. One became five and five became twenty and before we knew it, they'd collected a whole raft full of cans. It was quite impressive!) and then we just cycled through the list about three more times. As the kids begged to tube just one more time, we loaded everything up just in time for Maggie and Ryley to promptly fall dead asleep. We didn't even make it out of the springs before they were completely gone. What a day! I didn't get nearly as many pictures as I'd hoped, but I guess that means the kids weren't the only ones having fun. My little girl is growing up so fast!

Maggie's night terrors.....................

My poor little Maggie-Moo has developed night terrors. Ryley still gets them occasionally, but Mag's have just begun. It is so scary when it happens. Last night I saw her walk past my bedroom door and turn the hall light on. I got up and followed her through the living room and into the kitchen. Just as she laid her hand on the back door knob I spoke her name. Maggie turned around and I asked her what she was doing out here in the kitchen. Every question I asked her was replied with, "I don't know". I walked her back to her bedroom and tucked her in bed. I went back to my room, but after a few minutes I decided to check on her one more time. When I went in there she was out of the covers, at the foot of her top bunk sitting cross-legged looking into the hallway. So again, I tucked her in and talked to her and told her to close her eyes. When I checked on her again a few minutes later she was fast asleep. But then, two hours later another one hit. This one was more hysterical.....it was the screaming that woke me up this time. This is the only one that she remembers bits and pieces of. She begged me to make the man with the red skin not come near her. Over and over she talked about how red he was and that as long as we stayed in the fence he wouldn't get us. I laid down with her and talked to her about her upcoming birthday as she pleaded with me to not get near the fence. After what seemed like forever............she finally eased back into sleep. I laid awake for so long just watching her sleep. I worried that if I left her, she'd wake up scared again. I hate that I can't help her.........that I can't protect her from these. I just feel so helpless.

I've finally uncovered the truth..................

I'll admit that when I look in the mirror, I rarely see anything that I like. I take comfort in the fact that it is like this for many men and women. There are very few days that I am happy with everything that I see. Either I hate my hair or my clothes or my face or absolutely everything in general. I don't know how many times Kirk has walked into the bedroom with me almost in tears and said, "I take it we're not going anywhere." as he randomly picks up clothes I've scattered all over the bed desperately trying to find something.........anything to make this fat girl appear skinny. I just don't understand how a shirt I wore last week that made me feel sexy now makes me look like a whale. I haven't gained any weight.....I'm actually steadily losing a few pounds here and there. Well, after much thought and careful consideration on my part, I think I've finally come up with a logical answer............a reason that this is happening to me and occasionally, Bailey as well(Lord knows, trying to convince that girl she's beautiful is about as useful as a trap door on a canoe, but I keep trying.........every single day!)............someone is secretly sprinkling shrinking dust into my washing machine. It makes sense. It would be completely untraceable because "everything comes out in the wash". That's probably where that saying came from. I'm going to find out who you are if it's the last thing I do. The joke has gone on long enough!!

Name calling is perfectly acceptable at my house.......

I've always been a stickler for naming inanimate objects. Sounds a little strange-right? Well, I had a red van for 6 years and well.............he kinda grew on me. So, I named him BRAD(short for Big Reliable And Dorky). I only had one rule about BRAD.....no negative comments within earshot of BRAD. If Kirk were to start to say something negative about him I would put my fingers to my lips and say "SSSHHHHH......he can hear you.". I'm not nearly as protective w/my new car. But, then again she isn't getting up in her years like BRAD was. RHONDA is my new girl. She was named after herself, being a Kia Rondo. She is still dependable, shiny & relatively unscathed even though numerous attempts on her life have been made by my sweet, adorable children. They are clearly out to get her.......I'm convinced of this! They reminisce about BRAD just to hurt her feelings & make sure to NEVER wipe their feet before entering. Poor RHONDA will never know what hit her if we decide to go on a long trip. The vacuum cleaner's name is JAWS. This one kind of stuck w/me after watching that old movie, Mr. Mom. Plus, she's known for eating earrings after little girls swear they were put away. My mixer's name is HAPPY. I think this is where the naming began. This one came about because for years we didn't even have enough money to buy a hand held mixer. So, any cakes or brownies or waffles or pancakes or whatever that needed mixing had to be done by hand. I didn't mind. I didn't know any different. One evening, while still living in New York, Kirk said he'd left something at work. He took off  while I continued to get out ingredients to make a cake. He was back w/in 10 minutes handing me a shopping bag w/a big smile on his face. "Open it, open it!" he said. "Please tell me you didn't spend any money........you know we don't have any extra." I pleaded. "You deserve this." was all he said. So, I reached in the bag labeled PX and pulled out my very first hand held mixer. Even though that extra $14 he spent on my gift so long ago was surely going to put a damper on my already tight budget I couldn't help but think what a lucky girl I was. I not only had a fancy, expensive(poor doesn't even begin to describe our Army years) new gadget, but a husband who actually noticed little things that I would never dream of splurging on for myself. So, over the years I used that mixer as often as I could and every time I pulled it out I would think about how important it was to him for me to have such a simple thing that I considered priceless. A few years ago, he bought me my very first stand mixer. It was a pink Kitchen Aid mixer that he and the kids picked out for me on Mother's Day. I loved PINK(my new mixer's name) and still do, but it just didn't have the same effect that HAPPY had on me. PINK sits on the counter top and gets a fair amount of use, but HAPPY is still the main contender in this house.

The simple things........

Bailey and I made peach preserves this morning. Don't get the wrong idea here...........this wasn't a special mother/daughter bonding time for her like it was for me. She would have much rather been on her computer or texting or anything other than hand crushing peaches. But, like the strawberries that came before.......there was just no volunteering for this job. "Why can't you just buy them instead of making them?" she complained. I hear this every time it's time to make preserves......peaches, blackberries, strawberries.........it's always the same. It means so much to me..........and I'm not exactly sure why. I guess because it reminds me of my grandmother, Mo.  Every time I pull out a new jar of strawberry preserves I think of her. I don't recall ever helping her make them, but no matter what, she always had a jar in the freezer. I'll admit to being a fairly simple girl. I don't mind shelling peas or creaming corn or making my own preserves and pickles. And nothing makes me happier than being able to prepare food for my family fresh from my own garden. And maybe later the kids will enjoy these simple things, but for now I'll just have to settle for their complaints and hope for the best. I wouldn't say Bailey "enjoyed" her time spent with me this morning, but she did have an occasional smile here and there and that was just enough to make me one happy girl.