His New Teacher

My eight year old really comes out with funnies sometimes.

The latest one was about his new teacher.

 Being completely serious…”Dad, Mrs. H is as old as you.

She’s 40 but I think she only looks 38.”



I’m hoping I get the same assessment from him next year when I turn 40.

A Little Bead Art

I’ve got another weekend project for you and this actually only took a weekend to complete! Woohoo!

The last weekend project culminated in completing this magnet board above our piano.


I went ahead and worked on another project and here’s the piano area now.


I took a $1 garage sale frame and spray painted it the same color as the magnet board.


I then asked my husband to hang the empty frame on the wall.

He said, “So you want me to put some metal into this frame?”

“No, just hang it.”

“Do you want me to add a piece of wood so it has a back.”

“No, just hang it.”

Weird disgusted look sent my way.

“Pleeeease just hang it.”



“M” steps:

1) Drive to New Orleans during Mardi Gras and collect a lot of beads.

2) Look at huge bag of Mardi Gras bag of beads in your closet for months and wonder what you are going to do with all of them.

3) Buy a cardboard “M” at JoAnn’s with a coupon for $1.50 and spray paint it.


4) Cut strands of beads into individual beads.

5) Hot glue the beads on while watching 10 DVR’d episodes of The Middle.


6) Paint the sides black because you are tired of gluing beads onto the “M” and you just want to get done with the project.




7) Look at remaining 3/4 full bag of beads and decide to try and sell a bag of them at the upcoming consignment sale and bill them as “Princess Jewels.”


2 projects down, countless to go!



Dear Costco

Dear Mr. Costco,

My family loves visiting your store and sampling all those goodies your A1 hairnet troops are providing.

In fact, my husband loves it so much he needs a stern talking to before his trips there with our children.

We don’t need a six month supply of Cinnamon Toast Crunch.

Or the 7,000 Oreos (yes, it’s because I have no will power).

And for the love of God, just walk away from the 285 links of sausage.

The kids love the store too.

I’ve never seen people so excited to have free food – I’m talking hitting all nine food booths in record time while, of course, bypassing booth ten, the new fruit and veggie juice.

Yes, everyone loves your store sir.

But can I tell you want I don’t like about your store? Actually, I’m about to speak for all mothers out there. Yes, all mothers hate this Costco, so listen up!

Nothing gets on my/our nerves more than when I’m trying to leave your store and I must wait an eternity for your employee to draw a smiley face onto the back of my receipt.


I mean really. Why? Why? Why?

Why must every exiting door employee take the time to do this when it’s probably obvious that we just really need to leave the store.

Is it in the training program?



Is there a bonus involved with the number of smiley faces given out.

Just let me leave!!!!!

And really, it’s just not me. Guess who also doesn’t care about the smiley face and just wants to get home and rip open the bag with 5000 popcorn pieces?

My children.

After Picasso has finished drawing his neon smiley he slows the exiting process down even further by insisting to show one of the kids. When kid #1 has shown no excitement over the preschool drawing they move to kid #2 who’s response is just as lack lustered as the first.

So Mr. Costco, please change your policy. It should read, “As an employee it is your job to help the mothers out of the store as quickly as possible. If you don’t, there will inevitably be a meltdown and it’s anyone’s guess whether it will be the children or the mom who ends up crying. And if it’s the mom, you are on your own.”

Your loyal shopper,Jennifer

P.S. If you could have those toffee covered chocolates out for sampling next week I would really appreciate that.

A Weekend Project

Why do weekend projects always end up taking until the following Thursday to complete?

Maybe it’s just us but we can never seem to complete a project in the estimated time.

Our family began collecting magnets several years ago as a keepsake from the all the places we visited.

After putting on the most recent magnets from Rome, London, and Berlin our collection looked like this…


IMG_2148A big jumble of not cuteness.

It hasn’t been displayed in our new house (which we’ve been in for 3 years) so the mess was never really a problem before.

That is, until I decided that WE. MUST. COMPLETE. a weekend project and so… a new magnet board it was!


I took a 36 x 24 inch picture I bought at Goodwill for $5 and popped out the picture.

Next we bought a sheet of metal ($20) at Home Depot and my husband cut it down to size.

He then nailed the metal into place.

And voila! 6 days later our weekend project was complete!


Looks like we are going to have to travel a lot more to fill this up.

Actually, I’ve got a list going of the places I, We, Us, and/or &  Them have gone but forgotten to buy magnets for: Fayetteville, AR, Seattle, WA, Calloway Gardens in Georgia, Ann Arbor, MI, Gulf Shores, AL, New Mexico, Virginia, and many more.

But here’s a few of what  we do have:

Las Vegas, Fort Worth, Chicago, New Orleans


Louisville, Graceland, Scotland, the USS Alabama

IMG_2187Mammoth Caves, Toronto, San Francisco, Water Color, FL


Here’s the before (the picture just got moved to the dining room)

IMG_2141And the after:


Can’t wait to figure out our next 6 day project!


And then…

And then there was the time the Dillard’s sales lady laughed at my bra size.

Yes. Yes she did.

Huge boost to the self esteem.

Let me back up.

Since my bra supply was depleted I went in search of a few more.

I was strolling through the intimate apparel section in Dillard’s picking up pieces that I wanted to try on when a little old Asian sales woman came up to me.

“Do you need help?”

“Yes, I was looking for a bra that you can turn into a racerback.”

Blank face.

“I need a bra that can change from regular straps to racerback in the back.”

Blank face.

This time motioning with my hands, “I need a bra that can be both regular straps and have a criss cross in the back.”

“Ahhh, follow me……What size you need?


calvin-klein-perfectly-fit-racerback-bra-f2564-nude_1Since I have not posed for Mr. Hefner or suffer from severe back problems, I obviously don’t have a 22W bra size but let’s just use it so my pride doesn’t any suffer more.

Practically shrieking so the whole department can hear her, “22W! Hahahahahahaha. Those bras don’t come in that size. You have to go up to 22Y. Hahahahahahahahahaha.”

22W she heard. Racerback, not so much.

Ha ha ha said no one but the little old Asian lady who, might I add, is even more streamlined than me.

I ended up not buying anything. You know, bad feelings and all.

Probably going to go out again and test the waters at a different store.

This time I’m going to go in with a sign on my chest, “Back off people, I’ve kept 3 children alive with these breasts. They may be smaller than when those kids got to them but they are still standing up nice. Oh wait, did I step on your huge sagging breast. Pardon me. Did I say that loud? Hahahahahahaha.”

The Weather

I just love when the weather man says,

“Looks like that cold front is coming in tomorrow night so it is going to be great for outdoor activities. Going to feel much cooler out there. Get out and enjoy the weather.”

Sounds wonderful until you look at the actual forecast…


While it is way cooler than the 106 of last week, I was still hoping to see an 80 in the forecast.

Oh well, November is quickly approaching.


I have a confession.

For the past 10 days I have been in Europe with my 11 year old and my sister.

As you are reading this I am probably on a 10 hour flight, standing in line for the bathroom with 15 of my closest friends.

In a few days I hope to tell you about and show you our trip to London, Berlin, and Rome.

But for now, I’ll continue standing in line and pretending like I don’t hear the man in seat 32C snore, tell the people with the screaming baby, “no worries, we’ve all been there,”, and weigh the consequences of stealing the blanket from the little old lady in 35D 🙂

A New Fangled Contraption

We’ve been taking our dog Sophie for a walk every morning now that swim practice is over for the summer. If we don’t take her in the morning, it’s not happening since the morning temps have been in the 80’s and you can only imagine how good the air feels in the afternoon.

So there we were the other day: My 11 year old on his bike, my 8 year old on his scooter, my 4 year old on her bike, and me running with the dog. OK, it was more like me being dragged by the dog in order to keep up.

We were on a long straight stretch when my son on the scooter asked if he could try and have Sophie pull him.

I handed him the leash and a ton of laughter ensued.

(We’ve recreated the scene in order to get pictures but at a much slower pace)


They would get going quickly but after about 20 seconds they would be going so fast that the leash would have to be dropped.


Then there was chasing after the dog and then starting the whole process again.


So each morning now the boys get one straight away to have Sophie pull them and then we give her a break for the rest of the walk. It works out great except that my 4 year old is now begging to have Sophie pull her on her bike. No way is that ever happening!


Just like AJ

Last week I had a sinus infection which required a trip to the doctor to get some meds.

Honestly, I could have skipped the doctor, I just needed the z-pack.

My doctor was out for the week so I saw the visiting doctor.

As she was going through my file she said, “So you are writing an autobiography? Have you had an interesting life?”

What? Ah, must be wrong file.

“It says something about an adoption?”

“Ohhhhh, yes. I had to write an autobiography for the home study. No, I’m not publishing anything.”

“You have your own kids and now you are adopting? You are just like Angelina Jolie.”

Actually I could see her point. We have lips, we have breasts, we have legs, …really the comparisons could go on and on.

Except that it kind of bugged me.

We not adopting because we want to be like Angelina and Brad, we’re doing it because we have room in our hearts for another child. And I’m not so sure it’s good that everyone’s first reference for adopting should be Angelina. Maybe it should be your neighbor or friends, someone you see at your child’s school so that it doesn’t seem so strange or different to adopt.

“You are just like Angelina Jolie.”