It's been a long time since a tag...

Scott's cousin, Sarah, called me out. She has been blogging every single day for the last seven months--usually about something she is grateful for. I'm always grateful for her positive attitude and ability to see the wonderful in the regular. Her post for day #188 was a taggy-game. She answered some questions, then made up some of her own to pass along...so here it goes:


1. What specifically has made you feel happy today?
Today? The rain. The 70 degree weather that came with it. Family Home Evening. Mario Kart challenge (the FHE activity of choice).


2. Are you a morning person or a night owl? 
Hoot.


3. If you had/have free time, what would you/do you spend that time doing? 
That's the problem with free time. There is always such a long list of things I'd like to do that I waste half my time deciding. The short list would be sewing or reading.


4. What is your favorite breakfast?
Pancakes. With real butter and real syrup. As many as I can eat. (I remember having a contest with Brad once when we were little. I think he won, but not by much. We both made it well into the teens.)


5. You are alone in the house. No one is watching. You are listening to your favorite music. What kind of music is it? Are you singing along? Are you dancing? Remember, no one is watching.
Singing/dancing like crazy, sounding/looking much better in my mind than in reality.  The kind of music changes all the time. The Avett Brothers are our new favorites.


6. What have you never tried but really want to?
Hmmm, making a quilt? Is that a lame answer? Being an Amazing Race contestant (better?).


7. Do you have a favorite holiday? If so, what is it and why?
Well, of course Christmas. Family togetherness.


8. What is the most recent thing that someone has done for you that made a difference in your day?
Last night when we were at my sister's house Scott put all of the kids to bed and handled the call-backs while I ate dessert and stayed on the couch. I love him.

Hoops for Hope

Have I ever told you how awesome my nephew Trey is? Truly, wonderfully awesome. He is the oldest Barber cousin and we couldn't ask for a better example to forge the trails of growing up for all his little cousins and sibs.

Two years ago for his Eagle Scout project he invited the TN Vols and LadyVols to come and play basketball with with kids from DSAG (Down Syndrome Awareness Group).  Hoops for Hope, he called it. It was a smash hit. A slam dunk, if you will. Everyone asked if they would be able to do it again, and a three-years-and-counting tradition was born. The event got bigger each year as they fine tuned the event to include a silent auction, a raffle, an autograph session and as much fun as you can cram into a high school gym. Trey even had a few promo spots with local tv and radio news shows. I didn't take many photos and the ones I did take were pretty bad lighting-wise, etc. They give you an idea, though...

Brad films Trey doing a quick channel 10 interview:

Handing out t-shirts:

The players run through a vol-high-five gauntlet before each game:

New slam dunk record is set:

Leisurely breakfast

Breakfast tastes better when you get to eat it at your own pace. Even if it's just cheerios. That's reason #46 why I miss summer.

P.S. Emma was still asleep this day while everyone else was eating. A breakfast eaten late in the morning because you got to sleep in may be the best of all.

Guess who's four?

There are a lot of September birthdays in our extended family. (Eleven, to be exact.) 

One of them is Lydia's. 

Lydia was born a week overdue. 

She was worth the wait.

Lydia is our only dark-haired and (relatively) tan-skinned kid. 

Lydia is a song-bird. 

Lydia dresses up pretty much every day.

We love her deep voice.

Lydia is persuasive, using rock-solid logic and assuring head-nods. 

Lydia has some of my favorite facial expressions. 

Lydia loves fun. 

And pigs. 

And ice pops. 

And play-doh.

 And stamps. 

And cupcakes.

There was exactly, precisely one thing that Lydia wanted for her birthday. For weeks (months?) there was only one answer she gave when I asked her what she might like. It was the same answer every time...

"A rainbow clown wig."

One more about Emma

Without any prompting or assistance at all, Emma started whipping up these little bags for silly band storage and selling them at school. (I'm so proud.) Then she turned herself into a walking billboard by making the sign for her backpack. She currently has more orders than she can keep up with (homework comes before sewing, you know). I keep telling her she should up her price.

Safety Patrol

Yes, there she is. The very essence of safety and patroling for safety. She now reports to school extra early and maintains order in the cafeteria among the breakfast-eaters. Look how sweet and helpful she looks. She's more than willing to assist you in opening your milk or to get you a napkin.

But I warn you now, do not cross her. If you feel a desire to start yelling or start a food fight, LOOK OUT.

Because she means business and she is not impressed with tomfoolery. You do not want to mess with that.

Where does she get her authoritative prowess?

That's right! Me! The original patroler of safety! When kids at school saw my acid wash pleated jean shorts, frizzy perm, and huge glasses they swallowed their gum and sat up straight. I mean, come on, wouldn't you?

Grrr!

Stop Motion: Take 2

Blue is at it again...

...as are Lydia and Josh...

...and now we have crazy playdough man to contend with.

School begins (boo)

We attempted to make the last week of summer break the best week ever: friends coming and going every day, one last lemonade stand, well-timed birthday parties all over the place, plenty of swimming, a Smokies baseball game with Grandpa for the boys, boating, etc, etc. Non-stop fun. Then for the grand finale we declared the last day of summer Stay-in-Your-Pajamas-and-Watch-TV-All-Day Day. And we did. We didn't do any work at all. And guess what was for lunch?

Ice cream. Covered with strawberries, bananas, cookie crumbs, and chocolate syrup. Oh. yeah.

Then came the dreaded day of everyone getting their  lazy bones out of bed at 6:45 and getting a move on to be dressed and fed and out the door for school. Josh was nothing but thoroughly excited. Emma and Ben were excited deep down too, but hid it well behind a veil of disdain. Everyone was a good sport and willing to submit to a quick photo on their way out the door, followed by more extensive photographic harassment after school.

[P.S. This post is dedicated to Scott, who spent the better part of his evening last night getting our no good, lousy wireless connection to work so I could post some photos. And who earlier in the evening hit me a home run at his softball game. I love him.]

Kids = Funny

A line from a little song Lydia was singing herself yesterday: "Just because you're not important, doesn't mean you're not special..."

Josh (just after Ben told of his intention to save his stuffed animals to give to his children someday): "When I die, I want my stuffed animals to be in a glass case and buried with me."

Stop motion fun

This is how we spent last Sunday afternoon:

Josh took the lead in editing this one:

(Blue is the name of the stuffed hippo.)

Stories I like to tell, Part V (or "Seatbelt: Friend or Foe?")

This one was inspired by Alice's recent post about her daughter getting her finger stuck in a seat belt. I read it and laughed (as one can only laugh at such distressing circumstances long after they've happened). It reminded me of a story I like to tell that I'd nearly forgotten (not nearly as serious). One time I got my whole body stuck in a seat belt.
I don't remember what year of high school it was. I was one of a few passengers that Anthony Johnson took from early morning seminary to the school. (Junior year, maybe? Sophomore? I can't figure out why I was riding with him and not my brother, or just driving myself. Maybe our car was in the shop? Oh well, it doesn't matter.) Anthony drove a sweet faux-wood-paneled Chrysler minivan back in the day. I was sitting in the middle row. We got to school and everyone exited the van. Except for me. I couldn't get my seat belt undone. (I am, and always have been, a very diligent seat-belt buckler. Which is a good thing. Except for this one day.) I tried and tried with all my might, but could not get it unbuckled. Everyone else gave it a try and none of them could get it to disengage either. A few friends we knew went past the vehicle on their way in to school. Some of them gave it a go too, but with no luck. It was just a lap belt, but not the adjustable kind. It was the kind that gets tighter and tighter if you let it, and won't let back out until it's retracted all the way. You know the kind? Good for keeping children in place, not so good for high school students trying to get to class on time. All of the fussing with the belt had resulted in it getting tighter and tighter. I tried sliding out, but it was too late, it was too snug now to budge an inch that way. The clock was ticking and soon school would be starting as our group stood around the minivan pondering our next move (what loyal friends! I was not abandoned to spend the day working it out for myself). I don't think it occurred to any of us to send someone in to ask an adult for assistance. If it did, no one mentioned it. To me, once it became clear that none of us could get the belt to unbuckle, there was only one choice. Cut the seat belt. I had a little swiss army knife on my key chain that would do the job. What else could we do? Eventually I would need to use the bathroom. I needed to get out of that van. Anthony was hesitant. He wasn't sure about my plan to cause lasting damage to his vehicle in the name of personal freedom. He wasn't sure if his parents would think it was the wisest course of action. My teenage brain insisted there was no. other. choice. Finally he agreed and I cut myself out. I laughed about it and retold the gripping tale all day (again, teenage brain). I vaguely remember Anthony saying something later about his dad being mad and it costing a pretty penny to fix the seat belt, but I could have that wrong. Perhaps it was actually that his dad was really proud of me for being so heroic and keeping a clear head in a time of crisis. Either way, I've harbored a tiny fear of Chryslers ever since.

Josh is funny

I love the way the boy thinks. I love the way his thoughts sound when they come out of his mouth. He makes me laugh all the time with the way he tells things.

"Mom, remember that ride at Dollywood that goes really up high and then you go down really fast and it's red, white, and blue?" Yes. "I am never riding that because I'm afraid of heights. [contemplative pause wherein he reviews his statement and checks it for any problems, finding none he concludes:] That's reasonable."

When wearing a t-shirt with a football helmet on it: "I like this shirt because it shows I'm a fan of football."

Josh frequently uses the phrase "you know"at the end of a sentence. As in, he's about to tell me the conclusion of his thoughts, then decides it's too much effort so he throws in a "you know" instead, assuming I'm right there with him and know what he's about to say. Assuming I could possibly follow the complex route his mind has taken. For example, "I don't really like that show any more because, you know."

For another example, "I wish that we lived at the mall with a mansion attached to it...[goes on to describe all the things we could do, such as wading in the fountain, eating at the food court, playing with the toys, etc]...only we wouldn't have it be like a store because you realize, you know." I don't know. What? "Well, it would be pretty distracting with all those people walking around all the time."

Happy 2nd Birthday, Thomas

(Modeled after a butterfly/skull t-shirt his mom wears a lot. Now they can be matchy-matchy.)

Candy for sale

One day when the Langford kids were over someone got the clever idea that they should empty out the treat-jar and create all new confections. Behold: The Candy Pyramid (giant smartie, life saver, somethings green (?), topped with a skittle), The Flower (a skittle smashed by a regular-sized smartie), and The Powder Pop (dum-dum covered with either a starburst or gum drop, sprinkled with crushed smartie powder and topped with a skittle). Mouthwatering! Then someone was even more clever and suggested selling their homemade candies. Julie bought a couple when she came to pick up her kids and I think Josh bought one as well. This was about a week ago, but don't despair! There are some leftovers still. Call for pricing or wholesale inquires.

Emma's been sewing too

She made the yellow fish for herself at Dani's house with only minimal assistance. She was so pumped that as soon as she was home she wanted to know who else would like a fish. Everyone! So she made the other three entirely on her own. I'm so proud!

Smaller diaper bag for me

I have finally arrived at that stage of life where I don't need a full-sized-ready-for-every-possible-scenario diaper bag with me at all times (still sometimes, but not every day). Hooray! In celebration I made myself a new medium-small bag, with places to keep baby stuff, but an eye toward it being a plain-old-regular bag in the furture. (It looks like the pillow in my family room.)

I think she's pretending to hold a ball

Emma's new scripture bag