boys say the funniest things...

Two boys looking through my cookbooks to make a snack: "Seriously!?! There are no recipes for juice!"

skinny jeans at 40

I finally succumbed to this (insert adjective of choice here) style trend. I should probably act my age and stay away from skinny jeans, but I'd rather get creative in ways to embarrass my kids.

Are 40-year-old moms even allowed to wear stylish clothes anymore? My oldest is 14 and has only just begun to decide (on his own) what is cool and what isn't. But, since he's a boy, I'm not sure I'd trust his judgment on my wardrobe - especially since he has a penchant for black and gray.

I clearly remember telling my mother that she could not, under any circumstances, wear certain outfits to my volleyball games in high school. (What a snot I was.) But, that was 25 years ago and of course, nothing much changes when it comes to teenagers and their parents. Sadly, even the styles are coming back around to what I wore back then. (Yikes!)

Now, I feel I need a manual on what to do now that I'm middle-aged. It should include do's and dont's and a list of appropriate stores in which to shop. I need specifics - like "Do cover up your midsection" and "Don't wear mini skirts." I need to know if it's okay to still shop at GAP or if I should focus on American Eagle or Hollister. Or do I need to do my shopping in secret -  online - and never reveal my sources so I don't embarrass some teenage girl when I shop at Target and we're wearing the same t-shirt? (True story.) I felt slightly rebellious and I'm sure she went home and burned the shirt.

Truth be told, the skinny jeans are going to take some getting used to. They are um, a bit form-fitting and I am not accustomed to wearing anything that shows my figure. It's only been recently that I've realized that I don't look so bad for my age. (Another sign I've been a self-deprecating mom for way too long now.) Losing five pounds last spring helped a bit with the whole self-image thing.

So, the skinny jeans are staying on (and unlike the jeans I've become too slim for, they're staying up). I guess they're better than pleated pants or a denim jumper.

I might be a mom, but that doesn't mean I can't look good - even at my age.

protect kara from power tools

So my hubby and oldest son thought it would be a hoot to pull off a surprise birthday party for me when I turned the big 4-0. And they succeeded. I had 25 people pull into the driveway as I was in the middle of canning pickles. (Great timing, and it only flustered me a little. Okay that's a lie. I was a lot flustered.)

The invitations told everyone I like power tools, but power tools don't like me. Guests were instructed to bring something to help protect me. And unfortunately, I have a very creative family.

So, my "protection gear" included a hard hat decorated with puffy paint, a face shield, first aid kits, pain meds, scar ointment, football shoulder pads, roller blading knee and elbow pads, antique hand tools and power tools that don't work and (not pictured) a nut cup.

Why would they do this you ask? Find out here and here. Unfortunately, I do have a love/hate relationship with power tools. Mostly love, but once a while they decide to take it out on me.

So, everyone had their fun with me and someone so kindly snapped a picture. Since I have absolutely no self-respect, I shared it with you. Happy birthday to me. Now, I'm going to go buy myself a router.

talk of the camp

Caveat: I claim no responsibility in this next post. I do not know if you will think it funny or bawdy, but either way - I did not teach my son this phrase.

First day at Bible Camp, my four-year-old wants to go swimming. We sent him in the lake with his older brother as a buddy. Hubby and I were sitting a little ways away from the swim area, barely within earshot. I looked over to see him standing just over knee-deep in water that apparently was very cold, because he was hugging himself and shivering. Then, I noticed the lifeguard doubled over in laughter.

Pointing this out to hubby, I had a feeling of dread - mainly because this child is well known for entertaining people (and mortifying me) with what comes out of his mouth. As soon as hubby looked over, the lifeguard attempted to walk down the dock to his co-lifeguard. I say attempted because he was having a difficult time walking while belly-laughing so hard. He managed to make the 20 feet and then both guys were looking over at my son, laughing hysterically. By this time, we were a bit uncomfortable and curious as to what was going on. The first lifeguard walked back over the source of his merriment and asked him, "Are you all right?" (Hubby figured this was in hopes that he would say something even more entertaining.)

Later that afternoon, when swimming was over and suits were off, we learned that the lifeguard had asked our precocious four-year-old if something was wrong because he wasn't swimming. He apparently replied to the guy, "My nuts are freezing."

It didn't take long for the story to spread across camp to the nearly 200 people in attendance - much to their amusement. People were coming up to me and telling me things like: "The first thing I heard when I got to camp was..." and "I just love your son."

Later that evening, the lifeguard came up to Number Four and told him, "You're my FAVORITE camper!"

Apparently the rest of camp felt the same way - even the pastors. Well, everyone but me. I didn't know if I should laugh or cry.

take me out to the ballgame...

Apparently I am either too old or too uptight for baseball games. Or rather for YOUTH baseball games that drag on an interminable six innings. Four-year-olds do not belong there either. They are too young to follow the lack of action and too old to be distracted with a Tootsie Pop. A three-year-old might take an hour to get to the bottom, but a four-year-old will down it in two minutes.

But perhaps it’s just our four-year-old.

His oldest brother is playing baseball for the first time this summer. And Dad is helping to coach, which makes it next to impossible for him to keep eyes on the ball and the little clown running all over the stands, in the batting cage and chasing the random cat that keeps showing up trying to do his business in the outfield. (Believe me, he’s in no danger of being hit by a pop fly there.) So that means that Mom gets dragged along to the ball game to watch three boys who have little to no interest in watching 11- and 12-year-olds make errors and strike out. They’re probably just as bored as I am - the only difference is they are more capable of creating their own fun and they don’t care what anyone thinks about their diversions.

Here’s all the fun a four-year-old can find in six innings:

Game #1 - He discovered there was a water fountain behind the concession stand. By the time his brother’s team was 10-run-ruled after four innings, he looked like he fell into a mud puddle. He was wet from his outgrown buzz to his good tennis shoes. Apparently, he was too short to reach the water fountain’s spurt, but tall enough to reach the button and stand in the water’s reach as it soaked him and a 10-foot radius around. After that, he decided to play in the batter’s cage, with sand and dirt. I was so proud. So was he.
Game #2 - He spent most of the time collecting chunks of asphalt as his “special rocks” to take home. When I told him they weren’t rocks, he said that it was okay, because he wanted to make us a tar driveway.

Game #3 - He entertained the mom of a boy on the opposing team by discovering his shadow. (Yes, perhaps he’s a little late with this revelation - he doesn’t get out much.) But really all he cared about was her attention and trying to make the shadow as big as possible, and then make it dance around.

Game #4 - I looked over to see him leading a group of five older boys in the chicken dance - didn’t matter that they were within sight over nearly every person in attendance. I should find a chicken costume and dub him the unofficial Red Team’s mascot, but I really don’t want to encourage him.
Game #5 - He discovered sunflower seeds when a friend bought a bag for them all to share. He was given explicit instructions not to chew the entire seed, but to spit out the outside. After making him practice, he was allowed again to roam. But a half hour later, he came up to my friend and I and announced that he “could too” eat the whole thing and that it didn’t hurt when he swallowed it. So much for scare tactics.

Game #6 - We stayed home.

So what’s God’s game plan? He doesn’t seem to be answering my prayer to get me out of going to the game, so maybe he’s trying to teach me something. Humility perhaps? Or to appreciate the value of a four-year-old who provides entertainment while entertaining himself? Or maybe how to have fun for two hours at a baseball game?

Next game, I’ll be singing my own song: “Take me out to the ball game. Keep my boys off the field. I bought them some peanuts and cracker jacks, but somehow they still find their way back to get, get, get into ‘trouble.’ Now I just missed a double. For it’s one, two, three boys and FUN at a youth ball game.”

Feel free to join along in the fourth inning stretch.

my gift to you

I ran across all these things on etsy.com and wanted to share them with you today, as a special thank you for reading my blog and (hopefully) enjoying my sense of humor.




















































































Happy April Fool's Day!

snow day

Number Four was looking out the window at all the huge flakes coming down. He was not happy because he wanted to go out and pick rocks. (I didn't even ask.)

"We should probly take the vacuum outside and vacuum up all that snow!" he decided.

I couldn't agree more.

ha ha ha

I swiped this from Krista's blog - have no idea where she got it. It's so funny, I don't care if I might be breaking any blogging etiquette. Enjoy!