Samuel Jerome and Richnightder

Samuel Jerome and Richnightder
Our boys in Haiti

Monday, November 23, 2009

Our anniversary

Hard to believe that Marc and I will celebrate our 19th wedding anniversary tomorrow, Nov. 24th. There are many days I don't even feel 19 years old, let alone mature enough to have weathered 19 years of bliss...(cough).

Actually i am pretty damn lucky. I married my very best friend. He tolerates my moods, bouts of tears over the kids and homeschooling dilemmas. He holds my physical and emotional hand and my life would be desolate without him. He works hard to keep us in the lap of luxury and carefully balances work with home life. This isn't always easy when he has me for a wife and 4 kids that call and bug him at work...sometimes at inopportune when he has a machine gun in his hand and is about to run thru a drug dealers door. I could go on and on and on about how much I love him and appreciate him, but my damn pesty kids are screaming and fighting and I need to break it up and call Marc for moral support!!

Tuesday, November 10, 2009

So gross I hesitate to post about it

I have 3 rambunctious boys and one lovely, but moody daughter. My boys are typical boys; climbing things just to jump from it, damaging household items and covered in scars and scabs from numerous, albeit, superficial injuries. Yesterday however, while Madison was outside riding the horse, I noticed the deadly sound of silence from all 3 boys.

What I discovered was totally gross and only something boys would think of, let alone try to accomplish. The boys had gotten my largest stock pot from the kitchen, taken it to Thomas' room and attempted to capture, how should I say, a moment, a fragrance, a thought. I found Richnigthder sitting (fully clothed I should mention) on the stock pot.......farting. When I screamed in horror at the sight and sound "What in the hell are you doing?" Thomas replied that they were trying to fart the pot and get the lid on quickly enought to capture the odor and then run it to Madison's room where they would release the aroma. I have just one question. Where do boys come up with these vulgar and vomitous ideas???

P.S. I refuse to use the stock pot again. Perhaps I can put it into use as a dog water bowl, but it will not ever contain food for human comsumption again. End of story!