No cap and gown picture for Mommy.

Yesterday, Peter "graduated" from preschool. I had to send in one of Dan's white dress shirts which was going to be put on backwards and worn as a gown and the teachers made mortarboads out of bowls and poster board.

My husband left work to be there and as we settled into our tiny little seats with our cameras, I got a lump in my throat.

And all of the typical preschool graduation thoughts flooded into my mind. My baby will be going to Kindergarten soon. I can't wait to see him in his "cap and gown"! What are we going to do all summer?

Then his class began to parade into the classroom and I caught my breath at the site of the first student. The backwards shirt and homemade mortarboards looked so cute! I couldn't wait to see Peter in his.

As the class filed into the room,I had my camera poised and my breath held, waiting for my son.

My husband saw him before I did and all I heard was him say dejectedly, "Oh, Peter."

I finally caught site of Peter and realized why my husband sounded upset. Peter was the last student to come in and he wasn't wearing his "cap and gown".

When he came in the room, he left the line and came running over to me. I guess he wanted a hug and reassureance that it was okay that he wasn't wearing his "cap and gown". Instead he got me hissing in his ear, "Get over there with your class and say the Pledge of Allegiance."

He reluctantly stood with them for the Pledge of Allegiance but when they started singing the Copy Cat song, Peter hid his face. And when they started to perform another song, he came over and hid beside me.

I was disappointed. I wasn't going to get my cute graduation pictures and I imagined all the clucking the other parents were doing. They were probably all thinking that he's not ready for Kindergarten.

I wanted to stand up and scream "He's smart! He really is. He's just shy! He made 100 on his Kindergarten readiness test."

But of course, I couldn't tell them any of that because they wouldn't have believed me anyway. I just sat there in my tiny little seat, feeling sorry for myself.

Later after school, as we were eating our lunch, Peter told me he didn't want the other kids to laugh at him. That makes no sense since all the other kids were wearing the same goofy outfits and singing the same goofy songs.

Perhaps he meant to say he didn't want to feel silly or look stupid. Whatever the case, I wish I had been a little more supportive when he first walked into the classroom.

After the initial annoyance that he wasn't wearing his cap and gown wore off and as I began to realize that I really didn't care what any of the other parents thought, I took lots of graduation pictures. He may not be wearing his cap and gown and he may not be participating. But that's o.k.

I still think he's the smartest little boy in the world. I'm just going to have to wait a few years for the cap and gown picture!Not wanting to perform during the Copy Cat song.
Hiding from the class during the Copy Cat Song.
Looking away as the class performs another song.
At least he accepted his diploma. (He was fine as long as the class wasn't performing. I guess he won't be an actor, a standup comedian, or a public speaker when he grows up. But that's o.k. because if you ask him what he wants to be when he grows up, he will tell you he wants to be a Lego set designer. )

What do you get when...

Question: What do you get when you take one lone Goldfish cracker that has accidentally fallen under the seat of your car and add a few drops of water that have leaked from your child's water bottle?

Answer: An odor so foul that the preschool director that takes your children out of the car at drop-off in the mornings, shudders when she sees your car pull in the drive-through.

Yesterday I was determined to find the source of the odor and get rid of it. At first I thought it was the container of blue cheese that had unknowingly been left in the car from the previous days grocery shopping trip.

But alas, after removing the container and silently seething that I could be so stupid and waste $3.50, the offending smell remained. (Why is blue cheese so expensive anyway?)

I knew it wasn't the blue cheese because the smell had been in the car long before that shopping trip.

The bottle of Febreeze that I had been using to mask the smell was almost empty so I decided I really needed to search in earnest for the odor. After checking all the usual locations (under the car seats, in the cup holders), I determined that I needed to check "the secret location" for the source of the smell.

In our SUV, when the third row seat is folded down flat, it is covered, making a flat trunk area. When this cover is pulled back, all sorts of surprises that have rolled under the second row seat toward the third row seat are exposed.

In addition to crayons, straws and Bionicle pieces, there were approximately 20 Goldfish crackers floating around. One had landed in the bracket/bolt that secures the second row seat to the floor. Unfortunately some water managed to land in this bracket on top of this poor little Goldfish and created a stagnant little pond. The Goldfish started to break down and decay in just these few drops of water.

The smell this rotting Goldfish had created was so bad that my daughter thought I had loaded the weekly trash into the car to make a run to the dump.

The stink has now been removed - just in time for the last two days of preschool. Better late than never I suppose.

It's a good thing the preschool director has never been in my house though!

Wide Load Warning!

I love the check my Stat Counter to see what ridiculous things people Google to get to my blog.

I laughed out loud when I came across this one...

"Is her butt real?"

Yes. I can guarantee you it is. Would anyone pay for a rear end like this? I think not!

I am on week three of walking at the crack of dawn with my mom. And I am hoping that a little exercise is all this rear end needs to help slim it down.

When I am trying to get out of bed at 4:45 AM to walk, all I have to do is think about this view and I bolt out the door.

I was horrified when I came across this picture from our recent beach trip. Because while the little skirt bathing suit looks decent from the front, it's not doing a thing for the rear view!

Miracle Monday

Happy Memorial Day and Miracle Monday!

Not sure if anyone will be blogging since it is a holiday but if you have a miracle, I'm ready to hear it!

Several weeks ago, Tania posted a beautiful miracle about the day an angel of the Lord saved her life. This miracle will really make your toes tingle and your hair stand on end. God was truly present and working miracles the day he saved Tania from herself. Please head over to her blog and read all about it.

And if you have your own miracle, please post it here. God wants us to share our faith and the wonderful things he does in our lives with others.

If you are going to participate in Miracle Monday this week, it's simple. Just post a miracle on your blog and link it back here using Mr. Linky below. Please mention "A Mom's Life" and my URL in your post. And if you want, you can use the Miracle Monday button in your post as well.

PLEASE NOTE - when linking make sure to link to your Miracle Monday post. Do not link to the front page of your blog. It is important that you link to the Miracle Monday post so that when others are reading your miracle in the future, the link will take them directly to your miracle and not to the front of your blog.For an explanation on how to do this, please check here. Or, you can always email me and I will be glad to help you. My email address is in my profile.

Have a great Miracle Monday and thanks for participating!

This edition of Miracle Monday is now closed. Please check back next Monday for more miracles!

Well, here it is...

Let me first start out by saying that I did not intend to get my haircut like the Marcia picture at the very end of the last post. I had my tongue planted firmly in my cheek when I was posting that. I hesitated to even post the picture because I actually thought it was a very cute cut.

My intention was to post a picture of Marcia Brady circa 1981 when she starred in the very lovely, The Brady Girls Get Married. Or perhaps circa 1988 when she starred in the equally charming, A Very Brady Christmas.

However, this morning when I was doing an image search, the images of Marcia with the hair I wanted to post were all linked to porn sites.

I kid you not.

Apparently there are a lot of sick people out there who like to think of Marcia and Jan as more than sisters. And I didn't want to go to their websites, much less download something from their dirty ole computers to my relatively clean one. Although, the cleanliness of my computer could be debated.

But back to my hair, which I am assuming is why you are all here on a Friday night in the first place. Shouldn't you be grilling out or playing with the kids or watching something on your DVR? Like Top Chef...which is what I will be watching this evening with my husband.

I love to watch a bunch of chefs scurry around and cook things I can't pronounce that would be featured on menus in restaurants I can't afford. Not sure why I find it so thrilling. But I do.

I guess the reason that I keep getting off track is that I'm not that excited to show you my new hair do. I wish I had gone shorter. But I guess it's better to wish I had gone shorter than to wish I hadn't chopped all of my hair off. I have already made another appointment for the beginning of July and I plan on going shorter and sassier then.

But in the meantime, here is my official before shot. (Why is it that my hair always looks really good right before a haircut causing me to question the 204 other times previously that it looked horrible? )

And here is the after:

I know. I know. It's not much of an after picture because it really doesn't look like I got much done to it. It looks very similar to the picture from the magazine I showed the stylist but not exactly like it.

I wish I had just gone for the inverted bob (or "the Christie" as my friend Christie likes to call it!) But there's always next time.

On the plus side though, this stylist was already there when I arrived at 8:30. I love the color job she did and we got along great! And, she charges almost $17 less than the old stylist.

So check back with me on July 1st when I plan to show you the real after picture...hopefully one with me sporting a sassy inverted bob.

And I'm not sure why, but every time I look at myself in the mirror today, I feel like I should be watching the Fonz at a demolition derby or hanging out with my sister Pinky.

Marcia, Marcia, Marcia

So today is the big day! I get my hair cut bright and early this morning.

I must admit, I'm a little nervous. The last time I had a short do, I was pregnant with Sarah.

She will be 4 in two weeks.

Hmmm....I'm not good with math but I think that would mean it's been over 4 years since I've had more than just a trim.

My mom doesn't want me to get my hair cut. And yesterday, when I told Sarah that I was getting my hair cut, she started to cry.

Real tears. I think my mom paid her.

Please don't get me wrong. I love my long hair.

I love the fact that even though I'm 38, with my long "color enhanced" hair, I can still turn a head or two. Heck...I can even get a wolf whistle here and there.

My only problem with my hair is that while it looks great right after I blow dry it and for roughly two hours after that, by lunch time (or depending on the level of humidity, even sooner) it falls completely flat.

It begins to stick to my head and then I start to feel like Marcia Brady.

And just in case some of my faithful readers don't know who Marcia Brady is, I've included this lovely photo from the Marcia Brady Fan Club website.

Yes. Marcia Brady has a fan club.

And a website.

Maureen McCormick also has a fan club and a website but I bet the Marcia Brady site gets more hits.

But back to my hair, which is really why we are all here today. Here are some lovely before shots:

(This is the worst one of all but I'm all about keeping it real.)

So, I'm off to the salon this morning. I want to get an inverted bob (suggestion from my friend Christie) but I don't want any tears upon my return so I think I will ease everyone into a shorter style with something more at the shoulders.

I was thinking maybe something like this...

Marcia, Marcia, Marcia...

Crafts? Um, no. We just aren't good at 'em.

I've mentioned before that my friend Jennwa loves to craft. And I don't.

But that doesn't stop me from trying.

On Tuesday, the kids were more bored than normal so I decided to try a craft that Jennifer recently posted on her blog. I had everything I needed and it seemed simple enough. (Head on over to her site to see just how cute hers turned out.)

I even got out the hot glue gun. I was serious about making me some inch worms.

The kids were excited and didn't even seem to mind when I realized we were out of pom poms. Being the smart, quick thinking mom that I am, we improvised with cotton balls.

The result - our inch worms look a little pale and sickly and just not quite right. The heads are just a little to big for the bodies and caused them to be a little top heavy.

And since I didn't have any pom poms I couldn't make cute little head phones like Jennifer's son made for his.

But I was proud of myself. We did make polka dots for ours. Peter even decided that his (the blue one) should have legs and 4 eyes.

But our craftiness didn't end there. No it didn't.

Peter asked me if he could make something on his own. I got excited and replied with a hearty "Sure! Of course! Make anything you would like!"

I figured why not. All of our craft supplies were already out and there was already a mess. I was excited to see what their little minds would come up with. This was going to be great!

"What do you want to make?" I asked.

"How about a dead tree on a fence?" Peter replied.

Looks like the kids have my crafting gene.

How do you wear a hand print t-shirt? With a big smile of course!

Before we left for the beach, my son came home from preschool with a package wrapped in tissue paper. It was my Mother's Day present.

He was so excited as I eagerly tore into the wrapping paper.

"Do you like it Mommy? Do you like?" he asked.

"Of course I do honey!" I replied.

It was a t-shirt (that I had to send in the week before) that he had painted. I loved the painting. It was two hand print flowers with fingerprint bees buzzing around.

And I can't stress enough that I love the painting. I love it when my kids bring home artwork that has been made out of their hand prints.

I love it because I know those little hands aren't going to be that little much longer and I know when I'm 90 and I'm riffling through the attic, I will be brought to tears by how small they once were. In fact, I'm getting teary eyed just thinking about it now.

But on a t-shirt? What's wrong with artwork on a piece of paper? That has been, I don't know - framed?

I hung the shirt in the closet hoping that I could just enjoy the painting without having to actually wear the shirt.

Fast forward to yesterday.

After we got home from preschool, I went upstairs to change my clothes. Yesterday was the last meeting of MOPS for the year and I tried to look a little cuter than normal. I even wore my wedge heels! But try doing laundry and making lunch in wedge heels. It's just not practical so up I went to change.

On the way up to my room Peter asked me when I was going to wear the t-shirt he so lovingly made for me. O.k. so he didn't add that last part, but he did ask me when I was going to wear the t-shirt. The mommy guilt that constantly swirls around in my head added the last part.

So being the good mother that I am, I dutifully put it on. He was thrilled. He gave me two very large hugs and went off on his merry way very unaware that his 38 year-old mother felt a wee bit foolish wearing a t-shirt with two big hand prints right on the chest.

Being the fashionista that I am, I paired the shirt with my baggy haven't-been-washed-in-4-days-even-though-they-been-worn-4-days-in-a-row Levi Capri's and my bare feet.

Because I just don't think I'm mom enough to pull it off with my wedge heels.

I need hair help!

I did it! I finally screwed up the courage and I did it!

I have officially fired my hair stylist.

Well, if you consider calling the shop when you know she's not going to be there and leaving a message that she may or may not get telling her that you are cancelling your next appointment, firing. Well, then, she has been fired!

So technically that's probably not a firing so much as a wimpy way to cancel an appointment. But I knew if I tried to cancel when she was working she was just going to convince me to reschedule and then I was just going to have to call and cancel when she wasn't there anyway so I figure I saved us all a step.

And I'm not too worried. I'm pretty sure she will get the message. And if she doesn't and ends up sitting there waiting on me, well then, I figure that's what she gets for all those times she made me sit there and wait for her to finally arrive without so much as an apology. Hmmph.

So "firing" or whatever it is you want to call what I did to my hair stylist was step one.

Step two was the next big hurdle. Finding a new hair stylist is always complicated.

I don't want to use someone that a good friend or family member uses because what if I don't like the work they do and then this person questions why I'm not going back to their stylist.

I don't want them wondering why their stylist is good enough for them but not good enough for me. What makes her so special that she can't use my stylist? You know, things I'm sure they would be thinking . Things that even if they weren't thinking, I would be thinking they were thinking. And then every time we were together I would be wondering if they were wondering why I wasn't using their stylist.

I don't need a strained relationship over a hair stylist.

But I am thinking that maybe I need a hobby because it seems like I've got lots of spare time on my hands to sit around thinking about what other people may or may not be thinking about.

Where was I?

So I had been contemplating my next move for several weeks when the mothers of one of the kids on the t-ball team came to practice one evening with a really cute short hair cut. This was perfect! I had known this woman briefly prior to the t-ball season and am friendly with her, so I didn't feel like a weirdo asking her where she got her hair done.

There is this one mom with the absolute cutest hair do I have seen in a long time and I had tried and failed on several occasions to start a conversation with her so I could casually ask her about her stylist. I had to stop myself a couple of times from running up to her and gushing about her cute hair and asking who did it and were those highlights natural?

Because y'all, everyone knows it's not polite to ask a complete stranger where she gets her hair done and certainly not to ask if her highlights are natural.

And I really don't want to become known as the annoying t-ball hair stalker mom. I annoy enough people on a regular basis without adding annoying t-ball hair stalker mom to the list.

So I got the information from the other mom and made the call. The new stylist was friendly on the phone, she works very flexible hours and she is priced the same as my evil other stylist.

I am scheduled for highlights and a new cut on Friday morning at 8:30.

So now step three is trying to decide what kind of cut I want. Normally "cut" for me means a trim off the ends of my Marcia Brady hair. But I think after keeping my hair long for over 3 years I am ready for a cut - a style even!

My hair lends itself to a bob and not much else. I have been told by many stylists that I have a lot of hair but that it's fine. And I don't mean fine the way a guy may come up to you in a bar and say, "Oh mama, you are looking fine tonight!". I mean fine as in thin, limp, stringy. So it normally doesn't do much on my head except hang there.

In the past when I have been ready for a new style, I go to the grocery store and buy a few of those over priced hairstyle magazines, flip through them and wish that I looked like Jennifer Aniston or Kate Hudson or one of the other stars wearing the latest hair trends. And then I take the magazine to the stylist and get a hair cut and oddly I don't ever even remotely resemble Jennifer or Kate or Gweneth or Reese....

So I was wondering, where do you guys look for new hairstyles? Should I hurry in to the grocery store before my cut on Friday or is there some better place to look?

I need hair help! Where do I turn? What should I do?

Miracle Monday

It's Miracle Monday once again!

This week, I would like to share you with all a miracle that was posted by Katiebod from Roses are Red, Violets are Violet. She describes the miracle that occurred after she prayed to God asking for his help finding a new job after the adoption of her son. I love it when these miracles give me goosebumps. Head on over to her blog to read all about it.

If you are going to participate in Miracle Monday this week, it's simple. Just post a miracle on your blog and link it back here using Mr. Linky below. Please mention "A Mom's Life" and my URL in your post. And if you want, you can copy the Miracle Monday button in your post as well.

And, if you are interested in spreading the word about Miracle Monday, please feel free to copy the code from my sidebar into yours.

Have a great Miracle Monday!

This edition of Miracle Monday is now closed. Please stop back by next Monday to post new miracles. Thanks for participating!

Flock of Seagulls

Twice a year, we spend a long weekend at the beach with my parents. We go to Oak Island, NC. This is where we spent Mother's Day weekend.

Oak Island is a sleepy little retirement community with lots of little beach houses, several good restaurants, no chain motels and one Dairy Queen.

And when you have two small kids, who could ask for anything more out of a beach.

Oak Island doesn't have all of the overpriced attractions that you would find at other larger more touristy beaches,which is perfect for my family, because we are cheap and my husband would spend all of the daylight hours on the beach if he could.

But, after a while on the beach, even the kids can become a little restless. So we invented a new game.

It's called Flock of Seagulls. Here's how it works....

Take one carefully built sandcastle...

Add one beautiful little girl snacking on Goldfish crackers. Have this beautiful little girl strategically place Goldfish crackers on the carefully built sandcastle...

Sit back and wait...


After about 30 seconds, one seagull will arrive to scoop up a Goldfish.


And pretty soon, one little sea gull will tell all of his friends about the free Goldfish buffet over at the carefully built sandcastle...

Who needs to waste money on mini-golf and go-carts when you can experience the thrill of seagulls swooping down all around you and scooping up Goldfish at the beach?

Not us, that's who!

Please help me spread the word!

I have created a button on my sidebar promoting Miracle Monday. If any of you would like to help me spread the word, I would appreciate it.

It's easy! Just copy and paste the text under the Miracle Monday button (on the sidebar to your left) and put it on your side bar. Then if others are interested, they can click on the button to find out more about it.

I am trying to round up more miracles and the more people that know about it, the better!

A boy and his money are soon parted.

I have been trying hard to get Peter to understand the concept of saving money instead of spending it. In the past, as soon as $1 made it into his hot little hands he insisted that he buy something. Immediately.

We all know that the only thing $1 will buy a little boy these days is a Hot Wheel and that's only if Mommy pays the sales tax.

But finally, finally, I got him to understand that the only way he would be able to get something a little more satisfying than a cheap toy car would be if he collects ("collect" is a good word to use...little boys seem to understand this a little faster than "save") his money until he has enough for say, a small Bionicle or perhaps even a medium sized Bionicle, depending on how much he has been helping his Grandpa in the shop.

For the past 6 weeks, he has been collecting his money and has finally decided that he wants to spend it. Last week, he asked me to get him a certain white Bionicle when I went to Walmart to do my weekly grocery shopping. I told him that I would be glad to do that but when he got home from preschool he would have to give me the same amount of money from his piggy bank that I spent on the Bionicle.

His expression soured as if he had just sucked on a lemon and he said, "I don't want to do that. That would be wasting my money!"

It would appear that I still have a little left to teach him about spending, saving and using Mommy as his personal shopper.

Miracle Monday

It's Monday and I'm ready to hear your miracles!

I would like to share with you a miracle from my own life today.

We spent this past weekend at the beach. On Thursday morning, as I was playing in the water with my husband and my kids, I prayed to God that he keep us all safe. I love the ocean, but it also scares me.

It wasn't long after I prayed, that Sarah started complaining that her bottom hurt her. I decided to take her back to the beach house,which was across the street, so we could rinse the sand out of her bathing suit.

Apparently, right after I left, a large clear colored crab came up to my son who was playing in the sand beside our chair and beach towels. This crab scared my son and the fact that it was clear made him think it was a ghost. (Too much Scooby Doo and Ben 10 will give a 5 year old an overactive imagination.)

He started screaming about the crab so my husband came running over to him. While my husband was removing the crab from our towel, Peter started running away from the beach. My husband yelled at Peter to stop but he didn't listen. He kept running away from the beach and toward the street.

He ran right into the street, completely crossed it and ran to the beach house looking for me.

God was looking out for my son because they were no cars coming on this normally busy street and he crossed without incident.

Every time I think about what might have happened, I thank God again for keeping him safe.

Every day is filled with little miracles. Take the time to look for them. What you might normally brush off as luck or coincidence is probably a miracle. Just open your heart and you will see miracles all around you. I am challenging myself to do this and I hope you will as well.

If you are going to participate in Miracle Monday this week, it's simple. Just post a miracle on your blog and link it back here using Mr. Linky below. Please mention "A Mom's Life" and my URL in your post. And if you want, you can use the Miracle Monday button in your post as well.

PLEASE NOTE - when linking make sure to link to your Miracle Monday post. Do not link to the front page of your blog. It is important that you link to the Miracle Monday post so that when others are reading your miracle in the future, the link will take them directly to your miracle and not to the front of your blog.For an explanation on how to do this, please check here. Or, you can always email me and I will be glad to help you. My email address is in my profile.

Have a great Miracle Monday and thanks for participating!

Edited to add: Please check out Amy's cool celebration for her 100th blog post! Just post about a sign, miracle or wonder and link back to her blog for a chance to win lots of cool prizes.

This edition of Miracle Monday is now closed. Thanks to all who posted a miracle and to all who stopped by to read them!

Perfect.

Sleeping in until 7:30.

Sunburned shoulders.

Belly stuffed with grilled shrimp and DQ Blizzards.

Lazy afternoons spent building sand castles, feeding the seagulls and splashing in the waves.

No thoughts of housework, chores or to-do lists.

Surrounded by my family.

Sounds like a perfect Mother's Day weekend to me.

Hope you all find happiness this weekend.

See Peter.

See Peter.

See Peter read.

See Mommy.

See Mommy smile.

See Daddy.

See Daddy breath a sigh of relief that all the money he paid the preschool is paying off, especially since Mommy can't seem to teach Peter anything.

I've Got My McParty Shoes On

All right everyone. I need your help.

McMommy at The McMommy Chronicles is turning 30 (ah, so young) and she is having a party. To celebrate, she asked all of her readers to send in pictures of their favorite party shoes and I sent in a picture of mine.

She is asking people to vote for their favorite and I am woefully behind. It must be because everyone else's shoes look like they are going to a fancy soiree.

My party shoes are wedge heels. Because. come on people, I don't really even have anywhere to where these wedge heels, much less fancy schmancy shoes.

So, take pity on me and go here and vote for my shoes.

And please disregard my pasty feet.

I am currently at the beach trying to un-pasty them. And I wish I had the time to put some sassy red polish on my toe nails before I snapped the picture. It might actually have helped push me ahead in the voting.

So, get over there, right now and vote for me (Beth at A Mom's Life). There's more than one Beth and I would hate for you to vote for the wrong one. Of course, if there's a pair you like more than mine, feel free to vote for that one too. I won't be too mad.

I have failed...

Well, I have failed myself.

Failed myself miserably.

In January, I showed you a horrible picture of myself and let you in on a little secret...I was starting a diet and was planning to lose 12 pounds by May.

At the end of January, I proudly told you I had lost 4.8 pounds but I was switching diet strategies.

Big mistake. Never gloat about weight loss and never change diet strategies.

In February, I told you How Not To Lose 12 Pounds in 12 Steps. In this post, I consistently spelled lose "loose" and caught all kinds of crap from my husband. I went back and changed all instances of my misspelling but I am still hearing about it today. I think lose/loose is just one of those words I am going to always spell wrong.

Just a few years ago, thanks to the advent of spellchecker, I realized that surprised wasn't spelled "suprised". But cut me some slack - I'm Southern and we just don't pronounce that "r". I guess technically though, if I am going to use that argument, I should have been spelling it "suhprised" because in the South, that's how it sounds when we say it.

But I digress.

Ahem.

In April, I posted a wonderful salad recipe and the fact that my husband is losing weight (or is that loosing?) and that I was going to start eating only salads and join him in this whole weight loss thingy I've been talking about since January.

And while this salad is delicious, I don't think the blue cheese crumbles and the candied walnuts do anything for the actual weight loss aspect of a diet.

So, it is with my head held low, that I come before you on the day that we are leaving for our Mother's Day beach trip, the very trip I was trying to lose (see honey, you can teach an old dog new spelling words!) 12 pounds for and admit that I have lost no more weight.

Those 4.8 pounds are still gone but the balance is hanging around my belly/hip/thigh region like those people at the end of a party that just don't know when to go home.

So, I didn't meet my goal. But I'm not giving up.

On Monday I will start a new plan! I am going to add exercise! Yes! Exercise! That's it! That should work! (Please note - If you put exclamation points after any weight loss plan, it will be sure to work!!! I tripled exclaimed that one so that you will know that this is not a hoax!)

Mom and I are going to start walking every morning at 5:00AM.

That's right people. A.M. as in ante merīdiem. As in before the sun comes up. As in early - very early.

So, as I head to the beach to lounge my pasty pudgy self around on the beach and gorge myself on fattening restaurant meals, at least I have a plan. When I return, I plan to eat less and exercise more.

Novel idea, eh?

I don't think it will work. After all, there weren't even any exclamation points

I love my poor tired husband.

My husband spent all last week in Ireland on a business trip. He got home after midnight on Saturday morning. He was supposed to arrive home on Friday evening but due to "weather" somewhere in the country, his flight was cancelled.

The airline wanted to reschedule him so that he would get home Saturday night instead.

My husband knows me and understands that after he has been gone all week, even a two hour delay in his return has me spitting nails. A 24 hour delay might possibly harm my psyche.

So my sweet husband spent some time with the ticket agent, got rerouted to the next closest airport, rented a car, and drove an hour and a half to make it home after midnight.

I love my poor tired husband.

 I left pretty early on Saturday morning for a luncheon at my Mom's church so Dan got to get up early as well and spend the morning with the kids. As soon as I got home, he had to mow the grass. After that he had to drive to Greensboro which is over 30 minutes away, drop off the rental car and pick up his car from the airport. And we were home just in time for him to give the kids their baths.

I love my poor tired husband.

 After lunch on Sunday, he spent over three hours putting a trampoline together for the kids that he didn't even want to purchase in the first place.

And he did this amid much whining.

 "Is it almost ready yet, Daddy?"  

"Can we jump on it yet, Daddy?"

"Honey, this is taking forever!"

OK, I didn't really say that but I'm sure he thought I was thinking it what with all the pacing I was doing. But I wasn't thinking that at all.

Instead, I was thinking, I love my poor tired husband. So on Monday morning my poor tired husband was probably more than ready to head out the door to get back to his paid job so he could get some rest. But even though he did more non-paid work this weekend than any poor tired man should have to do, look at these happy faces.

I love my poor tired husband.

 

Miracle Monday

It's Miracle Monday time again!

This week I would like to highlight a neat miracle that was posted last week by Denise at Shortybear's Place.

Denise describes the miracle of meeting her husband. The story has an unexpected twist at the end so make sure you read the whole post. It truly is a reminder that God has a plan for us and for our lives, even when we are in the 6th grade.

And actually, He has a plan for each of us before we are born (Jeremiah 1:5) and I love it when we get to look back and see a great plan come together!

If you are going to participate in Miracle Monday this week, it's simple. Just post a miracle on your blog and link it back here using Mr. Linky below. Please mention "A Mom's Life" and my URL in your post. And if you want, you can use the Miracle Monday button in your post as well.

PLEASE NOTE - when linking make sure to link to your Miracle Monday post. Do not link to the front page of your blog. It is important that you link to the Miracle Monday post so that when others are reading your miracle in the future, the link will take them directly to your miracle and not to the front of your blog.For an explanation on how to do this, please check here. Or, you can always email me and I will be glad to help you. My email address is in my profile.

Have a great Miracle Monday and thanks for participating!

This edition of Miracle Monday is now closed. Thanks to all who participated by posting a miracle and thanks to all who stopped by to read the miracles. Please come back next Monday for more!

Maybe it's worth it after all.

I made the decision a few weeks ago that I was going to do a little spring shopping for myself. I decided that this spring I was going to look nice for a change. I'm tired of looking like a dumpy middle aged mother of two.

I want to look cute again! Is that possible for someone who is 38? Is cute out of the question?

So after reading a few inspirational fashion posts at BigMama and Musings of a Housewife, I went shopping.

I hate to shop for myself because it always seems like such a waste. I mean, pretty much the extent of my day consists of dropping kids off at preschool and going to Wal-Mart and having play dates with my friend Jennifer.

But I do go to church every Sunday and out to dinner with my husband or lunch with friends occasionally, so I decided to shop for cute outfits for these outings and stick with my t-shirt look for the rest of the time, because really, do I need to be wearing wedge heels and a sassy skirt to Wal-Mart?

No. I think not.

One of my purchases was one of those trapeze/swing/baby doll tops that can make you look pregnant if you aren't careful. Let's be honest. These shirts can make a 104 pound, 5'11" woman look pregnant. So the rest of us don't stand a chance!

This past Sunday, I put it on for church with a pair of black capri pants. My husband gave me a look when I came out of the closet and then a nervous smile.

I told him that everyone was wearing this style even though it looks like a maternity shirt. He breathed a sigh of relief and said, "I was going to say something but then thought better of it."

He's been well trained.

We discussed the fact that if I sucked in my stomach the shirt wouldn't make me look like I had a baby bump. And yes, we actually used the phrase "baby bump" in our conversation. Clearly we read to much People Magazine and watch too much Soup.

I put my shoes on and headed downstairs thinking that trying to be fashionable was too much trouble, especially if it meant sucking in my stomach and trying to walk without stumbling in wedge heels.

At the bottom of the steps, my son saw me and got a big smile on his face and said, "You look pretty mommy."

I almost cried. My son thinks I look pretty!

Perhaps trying to look cute is worth it after all.