Fun Pictures of My Babies

Yesssss! I love it when I escape from mom and she doesn't have a chance to take off my clothes and shoes off before I get soaked! 

Heyyyy, the water disappeared. Where'd it go?

I know you're in there...why won't you come out?

I am so cute! 

Great! Now people will really think I am a boy! Thanks Dad. 

I must hold on to my toys even when I sleep or else my big brother will steal them. Nobody takes my beads! 

I am The Biggest Loser

I really look forward to Tuesday evenings now that "The Biggest Loser" started back up. Every Tuesday evening from the time the season starts until it finishes, Ricky and I settle in front of the T.V. with our fresh baked chocolate chip cookies and a glass of whole milk with one ice cube for me and watch the overweight people bust their butts to lose weight. Mid-way through the show, I feel as big as the people on T.V. and sick from eating one too many cookies. Then, I get motivated by the barely breathing profusely sweating contestants, Bob's excessive yelling, and Jillian's mean faces and use of her trainees as chairs. I down one last cookie and chug the last of my milk and  decide to make a lifestyle change the next day. By the time the Last Chance Workout is through, I have made plans to wake up an hour early the next morning to go running and I have mentally noted all of the bad food in my refrigerator and pantry that needs to be thrown away. All of the little fitness tips that they've given throughout the show have been written down and posted on my refrigerator. By the time the show has ended, I am pumped and ready to lose 7 pounds the next day. I do a few sit-ups and head off to bed and dream about how great I am going to feel after I start my new diet and exercise plan....

  When 5:00 a.m. rolls around on Wednesday morning, I turn off the alarm, roll over, and go back to sleep. I have a cookie hangover...I will start my new lifestyle next Wednesday...It's a vicious cycle. 

Trash and Laundry

When Ricky and I first got married, I established the rule that taking out the trash is his job. It is an unpleasant smelly, heavy, messy job, therefore girls should not be required to do that. I deemed it unladylike and off limits for me. However, I failed to mention that there are no chores off-limits for boys and it came back to bite me in the butt yesterday night...

Ricky: Noah has no clean clothes. I had to pull out a dirty shirt for him to wear today. I don't think his clothes have been washed in like three weeks. 

Me: You could throw his clothes in the wash ya know? It's not that difficult! 

Ricky: What?! I'm not a girl!

Me: (gasp) You don't have to be a girl to do laundry. (pause) You chauvinistic pig! (for emphasis)

Ricky: You don't have to be a  guy to take out the trash... you chauvinistic pig! 

Me: shoot, shoot, shoot...I've got nothing...Touche, my dear.

I hate it when that happens! 

Xtreme One-Year- Old

I knew what I was getting myself into when I married my sweetheart 3 years ago but today it really slapped me in the face. I had 6 1/2 years of dating to really decide if I was prepared to deal with the consequences of marrying Ricky Murray. He was Godly, charming, handsome, respectful, and just plain perfect. You may ask what the heck I had to prepare myself for...well...how do I put this...he's kind of crazy... I think it is also known as extreme. He seems to love the thought of almost dying while taking part in extreme sports.  If the activity or sport does not include a high risk of dying or sustaining a paralyzing injury, then my Ricky wants no part in it. He's torn his ACL and Meniscus while back flipping on his wakeboard, he's gone sliding down a hill after falling off his dirt bike, he's fallen off a huge cliff while repelling, and he's been air lifted off a mountain after attempting a huge jump snow boarding...this whole thing has a point, so stay with me! These activities are his passion and joy. After a day on his dirt bike or on his boat on the lake, he is invigorated and excited about life and this is who I fell in love with. The hard part is that when I chose to marry him, I knew that he would want to share these passions with his kids one day and I would have to be okay with that. I took the plunge, married him, and now we have kids. And look at what has already started...my son is only 18 months old. I know that I am in for a lot of emergency room trips...God help me! 

Bleh

I am having a bleh day today. My hair looks like I spilled vegetable oil in it because it has not been washed since I don't remember when; I look like I have two black eyes because the circles underneath them are so dark due to my lovely daughter deciding to wake up at the ungodly hour of 4:00 a.m., and I have 3 month old chipped nail polish on my toes. I would love to take a long bath followed by a 4 hour nap and a pedicure. Then I'd be refreshed and ready for a Friday night on the town...HA HA HA! Yeah right, I am lucky if I get a two minute shower in without a little boy opening the shower door on me and letting all the cold air in and the hot water out all over my bathroom floor.  A four hour nap is like asking for a million dollars...never gonna happen. Pedicures are no longer relaxing because I have to have a baby attached to my boob while I am getting my feet massaged and a night on the town? Well, that's just a joke because I am usually ready for bed by 7:30 when my kids go to sleep.  But, I can dream can't I? 

Mask the Goats Please

We took out a loan today to enjoy a couple of hours at the L.A. County Fair. What a rip off! I have never been a very big fan of the Fair but I didn't want Noah to be deprived of the opportunity because his mother is too cheap to take him. So, we went today for a total of 3 hours and spent close to $80.00 and what do I have to show for it, you ask? Well, blisters on my feet from the 5 mile trek from the $10.00 parking spot to the actual Fair and the 10 mile walk on the inside, 2 sunburnt kids and 1 sunburnt mom, an empty bank account, and a kid who may have contracted whooping cough from the petting zoo goats.

I almost asked the goats if I could please speak to their manager after two of them coughed a nasty phlemy cough right in Noah's face. There we were feeding the funny looking sheared sheep and the aggressive goats. Noah's hand were getting more and more goat slobber on them by the second and I was trying to ignore that he kept putting them in his mouth. All of a sudden I heard a really nasty phlegmy cough close by. I quickly scanned my surroundings for the sick child so that I could remove Noah from his/her germ area. But, to my surprise there were no kids near us, only animals. Then I heard the deep nasty cough again and realized the culprit was standing directly in front of Noah and coughing right in his face and he wasn't a child, he was a GOAT! It sounded like he was going to drop dead any second from smoking too many cigarettes. I could see the germs flying into Noah's face as he giggled at the goats funny noises. I quickly put my hand over Noah's mouth and nose and removed him from the sick goat's area. But as we started to feed another one, he too coughed his germs into my son's face. Are you kidding me? Why don't they put masks on these sick goats or at least teach them manners: cough to the side, not in kid's faces. Anyways, if any of you are planning to go to the fair, make sure you bring your Lysol and your face masks if you go to the petting zoo.

P.S. The one thing that I did enjoy was watching a big mama pig feeding 7 of her little curly tailed piglets. It was hilarious watching them all try to get a teat as she just laid there lazily snorting.

I Covet a Maid

Yes, I know that the Bible says that "Thou shalt not covet." And, yes I do believe that, but this is my confession blog and I am confessing to you that I covet a maid. For the duration of this post I will sin and at the end I will ask for forgiveness and for a maid.

Life would be better if I had a maid because...

I would no longer have to worry about walking into a spider web in the entry way of my house

My son's feet would no longer be black because she would clean my caked with old food and dirt floors.

The 3 inch layer of dust would be removed from our furniture and pictures and we could all stop sneezing so much

I would never have to see 3 day old dishes in my sink again.

Noah would stop choking on remnants that he finds on the floor because the maid would vacuum more than once a month.

My toilet would not have that unsightly dirty ring of yuckiness in it

I would be able to see out of my windows for the first time in 3 years

Our clothes and towels would smell fresh and clean instead of like mildew (I always forget that I put a load in the washing machine until about 2 days later)

I could blog guilt-free instead of looking around at my messy house and thinking I should get off the computer and clean it.

Dear God, please forgive me for coveting and bless me with a cleaning lady. I would be ever-so grateful. Amen.