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Thursday, December 20, 2012

My Son Is Not A Nut

Reed loves a big picture book of 100 words. It has pictures of familiar things - keys, pets, etc. - and he likes me to read all of them, making noises where appropriate. The other night, though, he became obsessed with the picture of the phone, pointing at it over and over and saying, uh oh! uh oh! uh oh!

We had no clue what he was doing or why he was doing it.

No, that's a phone. Can you say phone? The phone says, Brrring brrring.

No luck. The phone kept saying, uh oh! uh oh! uh oh!

I finally figured out why when Scott called this morning.

Phone rings. Not on the charger. Can't see it on top of a pile, must be under a pile.

Uh oh! Where's the phone?


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Tuesday, December 18, 2012

My Imminent Demise

Ana had an adorable little friend over for a playdate yesterday afternoon. I found myself, 5 minutes before the bus came, rushing around picking up our insanely messy house. Then I realized that I was cleaning up for a 5 year old. And so I sat down. And watched 4 1/2 minutes of trash TV. It was a good 4 1/2 minutes.

I needn't have worried about the house at all because 20 minutes into the playdate, over a snack and a glass of milk, Ana's buddy declared the following:

Ana, I like your house. When your mommy dies, and when your daddy dies, and when you die, and when your babies die, and when your dog dies, I'm going to move in here.

I have to say, I appreciated the idea behind the words, if not the actual words themselves.

Shortly after, our little friend did come up with a more acceptable-to-the-Bogle-family-idea:

Hmmm.... or, if the people next door move, I could just move in there.

On another note, I have realized that I am not meant to be an overachiever. I did much better about posting when I said I would post every Monday, than when I decided I would go back to posting every day. So... in the spirit of doing things half-arsed and liking it, I will now be posting 1 or 2 times a week, not sure what day(s) yet. How's that for not pushing too hard? ;-)

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Monday, December 3, 2012

And So We Go To Church...

The last time we were at church was when the babies were baptized at 6 months. They are now 14 months. That does not a stellar record make.

In our defense, after they got RSV, the doctor told us to stay out of church for the entire winter season so that we could avoid the flu. Then, predictable naps kicked in, the first being right during the usual service time. Yesterday, though, there was a 4:00 children's choir and handbell service.

Our people like music. Our people like children. Our people like Christmas trees and decorations. Sounded like a win-win way to dip our toes back into church attendance.

Apparently here is also what our people like:

1. Vocalizing approval of said music, very loudly, and often.
2. Making hand signs for "more" to start the music back up. When this did not immediately work, grunting was tried as an alternative.
3. Eating the donation envelope. It is possible for a full third of an envelope to be eaten before the parental unit notices.
4. Discussing how the choir does not sing like Justin Beiber, which led to a discussion of how Selena Gomez should be given to Goodwill because Ana will be marrying Justin Beiber someday.
5. Walking. Up the aisles, down the aisles, attempting to go to the front of the church because, after all, that's where the cool stairs are.
6. Writing a Christmas letter to Santa on the Prayer Request form. At this point, an actual prayer request for Mommy and Daddy would not have been unwelcome.
7. Begging for food.
8. Circumventing Mommy and Daddy who said they had no food, and asking the Reverend if he had a snack.
9. Later explaining that the snack the oldest child thought the Reverend would have was, "You know. That bit of bread. He's always giving out that bit of bread."
10. Freaking out about the concept that the bread represents Jesus' body and requesting tacos, rice, and beans instead.

The service started at 4:00. Not sure what time it ended because we left at 4:29. And went to go eat tacos, rice, and beans. Amen.

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Thursday, November 29, 2012

Nice Try, Kiddo

Being a Daddy's girl of the last year, and having said Daddy go out of town for work, caused lots of feelings to surface for Ana last night. Add to that two babies that missed their afternoon nap and therefore a Mommy with her arms very full.

Why did you have babies?

Because we wanted babies and God must have known they were right for our family and it was right for you to be a big sister.

I only wanted to see them, not keep them.

Yeah. It can be hard sometimes, huh?

Yeah! I miss Daddy! You're only holding babies!

I'm sorry it feels that way. Sometimes I feel like that too. It will get easier as they get bigger and then they won't need quite as much attention. And, when there's only a Mommy or a Daddy at home, it's a little harder, but we're going to have cuddle time at bedtime, just you and me.

No! I want cuddle time now! You don't love me anymore!

That must feel terrible. I'm sorry you feel that way. I try to show you how much I love you and that you'll always be my baby, but maybe there's something else you need. Is there another way that I could show you?


What, Baby?

You could buy me lots and lots of things. We could go to the toy store and I could get everything that I like. Then I would know you love me.

Needless to say, we did not go get in the car...


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Wednesday, November 28, 2012

Christmas Caroling, Ana Style

Imagine this being sung in a jazzy sort of way... And, while you're at it, see if you can spot where it starts to go off track. Not minorly off track - I'm talking we move from the country road to the highway kind of off track. Still, everyone knows it's not Christmas without a unicorn...

In the meadow we can build a snowman
And pretend that he is nice and brown
He'll say are you married, man?
And we'll say no, man.
But you can get us married in our town.

Later on, we'll be tired
As we sit by the fire
We'll sing a song
As a bluebird goes along
Walking in a Winter Wonderland

In the meadow there will be a deer
And lots of snow and that bluebird
Then we'll see a bunny
And a unicorn
And he will have some candy on his horn

Oh, oh, oh
Happy Day
In a unicorn

Happy, happy day
Happy, happy day
Ho Ho Ho
Ho Ho Ho


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Tuesday, November 27, 2012

So Not Helping...

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Monday, November 26, 2012

Things You Do Not Want To Hear

Things you do not want to hear from the back of the van, driving down I-35 (in other words, not safe to pull over):

1. Do markers come off?

Why?!? What did you color on?

2. Well, do they come off of hands?

Yes, but stop coloring on your hands. You know they're for paper only.

3. Well, do they come off of faces? And lips? And eyelashes? And arms too?

Ana!!! Seriously. Stop. No more. We'll wash you off when we get home, but no more!

A few minutes later...

4. Don't worry, I'm washing all of the marker off myself with my water bottle. I want another shirt! My shirt is wet! I don't like a wet shirt!

Ana!!! Stop!!! It's making the markers run everywhere. Thank you for trying to help, but don't do anything else. We'll take care of it. Put the lid on your water and leave it closed. No more! And you'll have to have a wet shirt until we get home. We can't stop.

A few minutes later...

5. Mom, I'm making my face and hands soft with this Chapstick.

ANA!!! Seriously?!? What is going on back there?!? You know that is for your lips only!!

6. So not my hair either?


And this is what we saw when we got home...

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Thursday, November 1, 2012

Candy Pounding

Now we go home and I eat all of my candy!

Well, we'll talk about a good amount for you to eat.

But last year you let me eat as much as I wanted on Halloween night!

Yeah, that's true, but Mommy and Daddy didn't expect you to eat ALL of it. We thought that you would eat a lot of it, and then your tummy would be full or you wouldn't feel good so you would stop. But, you didn't. You pounded all of your candy. So, we're not going to do that again this year.


Don't worry, you'll get to eat a good amount.

Well, then I'm going in the house first and I'm gonna to pound on all of my candy before you can see me! I'm gonna pound it! (takes off running)

Not surprisingly, given that we were ten steps behind her, she did not manage to "pound on" all of her candy, but she did manage to go to sleep sufficiently sugar buzzed. It was a good night to be six...

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Wednesday, October 31, 2012

Happy Halloween!

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Monday, October 29, 2012

French Cuisine

Mom, at Daisies (the precursor to Brownies, which is the precursor to Girl Scouts), we learned about frogs and how you have to catch them carefully or you could hurt them. Some people keep them, but not Daisies. We let them go free to nature. We let them be.

Oh, that's nice! I like to hear that because that's how I feel about animals and little creatures - that you should just let them live how they are meant to live.

Yeah. We're not mean. We don't kill them. Why do people kill frogs?

Well, some people actually eat frogs.

They do?!?



Well, in France for example, some people like to eat frog legs. It tastes good to them.

Why do they think it tastes good?

Well, it's kind of like we eat chicken and think it tastes good. It's kind of like chicken to the people that eat frog legs.

Mom? Can we go to France someday.

Why? Do you want to try frog legs?

No! I want to tell the people there that it is not chicken. Someone should tell them.

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Wednesday, October 24, 2012

Beating Down The Pearly Gates

Daddy, please don't take a big bite of my popsicle.

I promise, I won't. Did you know that my Daddy, your Papa, he used to take really big bites. It made me so mad, so I will always take little bites.

He did?

Yep. If I had that popsicle, he would eat half of it in one bite.

Half?!? This much?!?

Yep. It used to drive me crazy, so I will only take a little bite.

Did you tell him not to do that?

I'm sure I did. I don't remember.

Hey! I know something great! When you die you can tell Papa not to take such big bites! That will be great!

Yeah... I can't wait...

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Tuesday, October 23, 2012

Outsmarting Six

Ana, eat your oatmeal. We're going to be late for the bus.

But I don't like this kind! This isn't the kind I usually have!

You're right. We're out of that kind so I put colored sprinkles on this kind to make it fun.

But I don't like it different. I don't like how it tastes.

You haven't tasted it! You like oatmeal, right?


You like colored sprinkles, right?


Then you will like both things together.


You want to be a princess, right?


Well, princesses have to go to other kingdoms for great feasts. They are served all kinds of things that they haven't tried before, somethings are even pretty gross, do you think they can sit there with the look that you have on your face?

Ohhhhhh, alright. I'll try it.

Tries the oatmeal

Yep. I didn't like it.

Now, who outsmarted whom?

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Monday, October 22, 2012

Miss Clean

We have a distant relation to the bald cleaning spokesperson, Mr. Clean, living in our very own household. She is almost equally as bald, just not quite as big.

I couldn't figure out what on Earth was happening to my brushes, hair things, toothbrush, socks - basically anything that I needed right when I needed it. That was until I caught the little thief in the action.

Apparently my tiny girl child, who otherwise makes it her mission to completely wreck the house, has thought she would help out by putting some of our things into the bathroom trashcan for us. Given that trashcans in our house overflow until the cleaning person comes, it took me awhile to figure this out. Our lovely cleaning person must have thought I had a screw loose when she emptied the cans, but she was kind enough not to mention my odd clutter purging habits.

I busted the little nut because she just so happened to pull my hair clip out of my hair and crawl off with it. As she was so clearly on a mission, I followed her to see what was up. Straight to the bathroom door, pull it open, crawl over the shredded toilet paper on the floor (an earlier job of hers), and right up to the trashcan. Slam dunk.

In case this wasn't the first time she had made this treck, I emptied this particular round of trash and found:

my hair clip
one of Scott's socks
a spoon
Barbie's sister, Skipper

While I appreciated her efforts at tidying up, I did note that she did not throw away any of her belongings. Apparently she thinks that we are the ones with a hoarding problem. Her current Leggo collection disproves that theory, however. She and I just might have to have a chat...

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Friday, October 19, 2012

A Letter To Our Cleaning Person

Must work on how to translate this one to Spanish...

Dear Cleaning Person,

Please know that I appreciate your thoroughness in cleaning our house. I never expected, however, that you would even clean out the cabinets under the bathroom sinks. I can see how, to you, the scraps and shreds of toilet paper under the sinks looked like trash, or at the very least a fire hazard, however, that is the toilet paper we must use.

You see, every roll that we put on the dispenser is dispensed within 2 minutes flat. And that is if no one saw us put it on. If we were observed during the loading, the time is more like 23 seconds. At first we just threw away the shredded wads of paper, but then we realized that 1) we would be responsible for killing a small forest and 2) we would be getting way too much cash back from Sams Club. So, now we just leave it on the floor and use it as needed, or we shove it under the sink before company comes, or in your case, when we are cleaning so that you can clean.

In the future, no need to throw it away, just close the cabinet and leave the mess in peace. In the meantime, anybody got a napkin I can use?

Thank you,



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Wednesday, October 17, 2012

Hypochondriac Much?

The upside of being a hypochondriac is that you are often on top of illnesses as soon as they start. The downside is that you scare yourself needlessly with imagined health catastrophes.

Scott, God love him, is a minor league hypochondriac. He waited to propose to me while he had something checked out in case I said yes and then he found out he was dying. (He wasn't, by the way.)

There was also the legendary Thanksgiving of '09 when he spent Thanksgiving-Eve and Thanksgiving morning in the hospital. He was taken there by ambulance after suffering symptoms of a heart attack. Turns out it was the McDonalds cheeseburger he ate at Walmart while waiting for new tires to be put on the car. That would give anyone a heart attack!

I'm happy that he takes each time seriously because I don't want him ever to ignore symptoms should a real situation occur. He is also learning to question his immediate self-diagnosis and I think I need to work on that too...

(Scott comes downstairs from working in the office upstairs)

I thought I was having a stroke!


Yeah. I was looking at my computer screen and everything was fine. I looked down at my lap and when I looked back up, the sight in my left eye had gone blurry.

Seriously?!? Are you okay?

Yeah. Turns out one of my lenses fell out.

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Monday, October 15, 2012

Issues of Hygiene

My oldest lady does not like to stop what she is doing to use the bathroom. Luckily I think she is part camel, so accidents are rare, but I guess even she couldn't stave off the inevitable one minute more. She made a mad dash to the bathroom and the sound of pottying could be heard.

Hey Mom?


I'm just making the sound of pee-pee in here.

Are you sure you're not actually pee-pee-ing? That sounds pretty real to me.

I'm sure. I'm just pretending.

Are you maybe telling me that so you don't have to take time to wash your hands?

Umm... yes?

Wash your hands.


Oh, and Ana?


Nice try.


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Monday, October 8, 2012

A Sleepytime Riddle

Question:  When do you not want both of your babies to sleep through the night at the same time, for the first time?

Answer: The night before an important early morning work flight.

The Scene this morning:

Ow. My boobs hurt. What time is it?

Hhhhh.... Uhhhh... I don't know. Late I think.

Will you look?

Sh*t!! Sh*t!! Oh crap!!

What?!? What?!?

It's 6:00!

In the morning?!?

Yes! I'm supposed to be on a plane in an hour!

Are they alive?

I don't know. I think so. I have to get in the shower.

I'll check.

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Friday, October 5, 2012

I'm All For Encouraging A Love Of Reading, But...

methinks that Ana's potty reading habit is getting a little out of control...

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Wednesday, October 3, 2012

The Lowest Maintenance Relationship Ever

Mom, I don't see Charlie anymore.

No, that's right. He's not at your school now that you're in Kindergarten. He goes to a different school for Kindergarten.

Well, he's still my boyfriend.

Wait a minute. I thought you told me last year that you guys broke up and he wasn't your boyfriend anymore? (And yes, we did have this conversation at age 5. Sigh.)

Well, he's my boyfriend again.

Does Charlie know that?

No. But that's okay.

So... when my girl grows up, she's either going to turn out to be a laid back girlfriend... or a stalker. Could go either way at this point.

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Monday, October 1, 2012

This Time Last Year

September 30th, 6 pm - labor begins. Mom is over making dinner, but I hold off eating knowing that they can't do a c-section if I have just eaten. Call the hospital. My doctor doesn't come in until the next day. Vow to wait because the on call doctor says she will stop my labor - for the 4th time.

September 30th, 10 pm - Mom and Scott go to bed. I can't sleep - am tossing and turning.

October 1st, 2 am - Remember reading that soaking in the tub can help with labor pains. Draw myself the deepest bath ever and climb in.

October 1st, 5 am - Am starving. Haven't eaten since lunch. Mom's leftovers are calling my name. Make myself the breakfast of champions:

baked potato
with cheese
and sour cream
and butter
and salt
and pepper
and chives

God it is good!!!

October 1st, 8 am - Call the doctor. She says to head on in.

October 1st, 10 am - Okay, we should be good to go soon. You haven't eaten anything have you?

Ummmm.... yeah. I had breakfast around 5.

What did you have?

Ummmm... baked potato?

Yep. You're a pregnant person. Well, we're going to have to hold off on surgery then.

Damn that baked potato!

October 1st, 12:25 pm - Given than I haven't yet tossed my potato, they decide to take me into surgery.

October 1st, 12:49 pm - Sofia Britton Bogle, all 5 pounds 6 ounces of her, enters the world. She is perfect, wide-eyed, and, after a moment, loud. The sweetest of sounds.

October 1st, 12:50 pm - James Reed Bogle, 5 pounds 7 ounces, steals our hearts.

Can't believe it's been a year already! Happy Birthday, my little ones!! Now to celebrate with a potato...

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Wednesday, September 26, 2012

Jay Leno To Feature Ana...

Do you know about the four daddies that died in the war?

What four daddies?

The ones of our land. We learned about it at school

Hmmm... Is this a book?

No, it's real.

Some books are real. I'm not sure I know what you're talking about. Can you tell me their names? Maybe that will help me to know what you mean.

Ummmm.... I think one was Jesus. I forgot the rest.



Hmmm... And they died in a war?

Yes. In our land. For our freedom. But they got dead.

They died for our freedom? Oh! Oh! Our fore-FATHERS!

Yes. The four daddies.

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Tuesday, September 25, 2012

Who's On First?

Talking with Ana about our friends in England:

Is Linda a Mommy?

Yes, she is. And a grandma. In England they say "Mummy" instead of Mommy.

She's a mummy?!?

Yes, because she has kids.

Do they get candy for Halloween?

No, they're all grown up. In England they don't celebrate Halloween like we do.

But they why do they dress up?

Some people do, but not everyone.

But why does Linda dress up?

I'm pretty sure she doesn't. I don't think Linda would want to dress up for Halloween.

But you said she does!

No. I didn't.

Yes! You said she's a mummy.

Oh..... Let's start over.

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Thursday, September 20, 2012

My Son The Gentleman

Reed is so thoughtful. While we were at the eye doctor's yesterday, I gave him my keys to hold. Wouldn't you know it, when we left the building, he had opened both of the side doors and the back trunk door for us? What he was unclear on was just at what point during our appointment he thought to open things up for us, but what a guy nonetheless...

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Wednesday, September 19, 2012

Signs of Overpopulation

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Tuesday, September 18, 2012

I Will Not Be The Winner...

of the Mom of the Year award, that is. Several posts ago I was "thanking" the kids in Ana's kindergarten class for teaching her a few choice words and phrases that I'd prefer she not know. This time, I'd like to thank myself.

Since he was born, Reed has had an invisible target on his head. Poor boy gets banged into doorways, walls, doors... You feel absolutely horrible when you do it, and then 2 days later, there you are banging him again. Now that he crawls, he does it to himself. Closes his head in the door. Crawls into sharp corners...

While we were in Florida, the house we were staying at had gorgeous tile floors. Great for crawling fast. Not so great for the 'ol noggin. Reed had already banged his heed at least 3 times that morning when he decided to pull himself up, let go, and stand for 10 seconds. And then fall down. On his head. On the hard tile.

Startled and scared all rolled into one, I said "Jesus Christ" and ran over.

Given that I don't normally say that, I can see how it might have appealed to Ana. She also adores all things related to "Baby Jesus," so there was that draw as well.

Later, packing up our bags to leave, Ana dropped her little-ridiculous-number-of-tiny-pieces toy onto the floor, scattering parts everywhere.

Jesus Rice!

Hmmm.... where to start?

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Monday, September 17, 2012

We Survived!

We're back and all members of our family are alive! The trip was a success and we made lots of fun memories. Fun memories:

walks on the beach
babies feeling the sand on their feet for the first time
swimming in the pool with all of the kiddos
spending time with our new cousin, Owen
"fancy" family dinner out for my mom's 60th birthday

And then there were the funny memories:

running the double stroller through security means taking the double trouble out of the stroller. Now that said trouble can crawl, they did so... in opposite directions. Ana and I had 3 airport workers cracking up as we took turns chasing after people as Scott escorted our belongings through security.

plane bathrooms are not made for changing babies. It can be done, but not well. Even Sofia was impressed. After wrapping things up in there, I opened the door to go back into the cabin. Both the flight attendant who mans the back of the plane and Sofia broke into spontaneous applause. And yes, I took a bow.

Sofia is getting very good at her animal noises - she can roar like a lion, growl like a bear, and bark like a dog. Oh yes, and she can vroom like a car too. However, she had no clue what to do with the seagulls and sand pipers that we saw - "Raaaah, Graaaah, Ruuf, Ruuf,Vbooom, Vbooom" Guess she was covering her bases.

We would definitely do it again - it was so wonderful to spend time with family and our little family. Just give me at least a year to get all of our luggage unpacked.

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Wednesday, September 12, 2012

Pray For Us

Today, we are boldly going where no man has gone before. Okay, that might be a bit of an exaggeration, but it is fair to say that we are going where we have never gone before - on a two and a half hour flight with three children. One 6 year old, who will be plied with gummies, DVDs, and coloring books. She's not the worry. It's the 2 11 month olds who will be "sitting" in our laps the whole time. We are nuts.

Should we make it to Florida alive, we will be with grandparents who will play with said children, allowing us to nap, take walks, and talk for more than 1.5 minutes uninterrupted. We will play in the ocean, introduce the babies to sand, and make memories. Hopefully good ones ;-)

We'll be back late Sunday, so I will be back on Monday with a status update - and maybe a tan.

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Monday, September 10, 2012


It's only been two weeks so far that Ana has been in Kindergarten, but she's already learned a lot. Of late, we have discussed the concept of nocturnal, as in

Mom, I want to be a vampire for Halloween instead of a witch.
Because, they're nocturnal. I could stay up at night and eat ice cream while everyone is sleeping.

We have also covered Arkansas

Mom? Where's Arkansas?
Right by Texas, Baby. I can show you on a map. It's another state like Texas is a state.
I know, but do they have restaurants there?
Oh, good then. Can we go on vacation there sometime?
Why is Daddy laughing?

We're thrilled to see her getting interested in new ideas, less thrilled to see the way her vocabulary has expanded:

Building Leggos... drops a piece...
Oh, crap!
Baby, crap is not a good thing to say.
Why? What is crap?

And my personal favorite
Ana, it's time to get dressed for ballet.
Okay, Peckerhead!

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Friday, September 7, 2012

The "Yes I Am A Guy" Series of Photos, Part I

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Thursday, September 6, 2012

Happy Birthday!

Happy 6th Birthday to one of my greatest loves!!

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Wednesday, September 5, 2012

A Ding-Dong

My oldest lady has a very vivid imagination. She can make up fantastic stories, complete with many a detail. Vocabulary, when she gets excited, is not her strong suit, though. Case in point...

We were drawing two princesses in a pretend land:

Mommy! Let's draw her ding-dong!

Her ding-dong?

Yes! Her ding-dong! All of the princesses have them!


Both of our princesses can have ding-dongs. I'll be fair.


Here. I'll draw it. (draws)

Ohhhhh! You mean dangly earrings!

Yeah. Ding-dongs.

Dangly. Dangly earrings.

Yeah. Okay. Whatever.

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Tuesday, September 4, 2012

Driver's Ed

There is a serious design flaw with our minivan. For some reason, you are able to put the car in drive even if one of the side doors or the back door is open. Why would someone do this, you might ask? Well, they might if their name is Alison Bogle.

On 3 separate occasions, I have backed out of the garage, into the driveway, with one or more of the side doors open. Our garage is about 1 inch wider than our van (slight exaggeration, obviously), so each time I have hit the open door, causing it to jerk and to slide back into the closed position.

Tired of feeling like a moron, I put a new system into place. Before backing out, I would look over my shoulder and check to see that all of the doors were closed. Novel idea, no?

I neglected to consider that I am rarely alone.

The fourth time the van was hit, I looked over my shoulder - doors open. I turned forward and pressed the door close button at the same time that Ana, being helpful, hit the door closed button. The door did close. And then it opened. Just as I was backing out of the garage.


A tiny voice comes from the back...

Mommy? Maybe you should just start parking on the street.

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Friday, August 31, 2012

The Improbable Beauty of a Sprinkler

We took our usual stroller walk - Reed, Sofia, and I. It shakes off the morning whineys and helps to tone my jiggley twin body.

I pointed to bright pink crepe myrtle blooms, white pillow clouds, startling red cardinals. But my Fifs (Sofia) found something of her own.

Full body at attention - thrown to the edge of her seat. Aah! Aah! she shouted to bring our attention to the miracle she was witnessing.

It was only a sprinkler.

Fifs - that's a sprinkler. It waters the grass to help it grow. See? The grass is green from the water.

I made to move on, but another rapt Aah! from Fi made me pause.

And then the world shifted and I saw it.

I saw what Sofia saw.

Great plumes of water shooting into the air and falling as a fine mist to coat the grass in diamonds below. The sunlight was broken up by the tree above, so that shafts of light turned the mist alternately white and grey.

It was beautiful.

It was a miracle.

It was a chance to see things as new - through 10 month old eyes.

A chance to witness the improbable beauty of a sprinkler.


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Thursday, August 30, 2012

Deprogramming Manual?

It is often bemoaned that children do not come with a programming manual. I would argue that perhaps even more helpful would be the deprogramming manual to aid in undoing whatever silly habits you might have ingrained into small impressionable young minds.

For example, Reed and Sofia think the following is hysterical:

What does the gorilla say?

Aaaaarrrrr (beat chest with both arms)

They also find the following amusing:

Can you honk Mommy's nose?

(small hand squeezes my nose - hard) Honk!

These inside jokes are not to be topped by the spontaneous breaking into of baby applause to indicate their approval of something.

All seemingly innocuous and fun... until it's not. Such as at bedtime. When I am exhausted and want them to sleep. Picture it:

Final nursing for the bedtime put-down. Both babies laying on the nursing pillow, nursing. Suddenly....

Muffled grunts. Four fists start pounding me in the chest. Repeatedly. Hard.

Yes, guys, that's what the gorilla says, but it's not time for gorilla, it's time to eat.

Reed's hand shoots up and squeezes my nose.

Yes, Honk, now eat!

For the finale, as though they appreciated the bouquet, while still eating, both babies start clapping simultaneously.

Yes, thank you, I appreciate it. Now eat!

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Wednesday, August 29, 2012

A Little Dirt Don't Hurt

I am way outnumbered. Until about 6:00, when Scott gets home from work, the ratio of child to adult is 3:1. At 6:00, the odds improve somewhat to a more reasonable 3:2, but there is never a moment where the big people have favor over the little people. And the little people move fast.

This morning Scott left early to track down an errant backpack at the district bus barn. Yet another place we never imagined visiting pre-children. This significantly dropped the odds that everyone would make it out the door to the bus stop on time, dressed, and with all limbs intact.

We made it. On time. Dressed. All limbs intact. However, I forgot about the other possibilities. Sofia had 3 lovely blue stripes of marker on her legs. Reed had 8 (I counted them) orange stripes. While getting my two ladies out of the door, my son discovered the plant in the kitchen and helped himself to a snack. So, to go along with his tiger stripes, he had a nice ring around the mouth and a piece of bark wedged between his top two teeth.

Here is all I thought to myself, "Well, I'm pretty sure I bought organic dirt."

My how I have evolved...

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Tuesday, August 28, 2012

Me Time

If you are like me, you will get very excited over the prospect of having a babysitter. And, now that your oldest is in kindergarten, you will want to celebrate with a little Me Time. Again, if you are like me, you will schedule a massage. And, when your twins wake you up 6 times the night before, owing to two new teeth each and major constipation issues (who knew eating corn, carrots, potatoes, and banana all on the same day is like the quad-fecta of plumbing problems? Not me, obviously.), you will console yourself by saying, "No worries, Self. Remember, soon you will be worked on by Sven, Andre, or Bob, for all I care - point being - you will be worked on soon."

Then, if you are still like me, you will get a text from your babysitter, who is never late by the way, saying that she is late and will be arriving at the time that your massage is due to start. In the meantime, in typical overcompensation style, you will have given your children enough pears to move the Titanic out of their rear ends, which is exactly what happens to poor Sofia. Crying included. Sadly, no theme song.

You will debate leaving said toxic waste for the sitter, but as you are watching the clock anyway, you will change the diaper yourself. Which, is how you will end up with sh*t on your leg and a crying baby. The crying will lead to snot on your arm. For those not following, that is sh*t on your leg and snot on your arm.

At this point, you will have given up all fantasies of Me Time and will just settle for a padded room somewhere tropical. I know, you can't see the sand in a padded room, but I think it would be just a little more festive. Finally the sitter arrives and, if you are like me, you will shuffle dazed and confused onto the back deck to plot your next attempt at Me Time, vowing to lower your expectations and to build in hours of extra fudge time. The metaphorical kind, not the literal kind like you can still smell on your leg.

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Monday, August 27, 2012

My Heart Was Picking Its Wedgie

It was Elizabeth Stone who said, “Making the decision to have a child is momentous. It is to decide forever to have your heart go walking around outside your body.”

Well, my heart started its first day of kindergarten today. My heart dressed herself, put her own cooler in her lunch bag, buckled her own shoes, brushed her own teeth, and put on her own backpack. My heart boarded the school bus with only one look back and headed off into the big world. Ouch, that went fast!

The teacher had asked for any willing parents to come help with the lunchtime chaos, so I was consoled by the fact that I would be seeing my little heart just a couple of hours later. Silly me, I used to teach, I should have known what to expect.

Let me start by saying, I would like to set up a mental health fund for Ana's kindergarten teacher. God bless her! At the start of the year, no child knows the classroom rules and most are so hopped up on excitement that they can't sit still or stop their mouths to save their lives. That was the scene that I walked in on at lunchtime.

I was glad that I went because Ana was too embarrassed to eat lunch in front of the other children. This, despite the fact that she was sitting across from a boy who dropped his BLT on the floor, picked it up and reassembled it, and then proceeded to shove it into his face squirrel style. Or, there was her next door neighbor who ate her PBJ by stabbing it with her yogurt spoon and digging in popsicle style. I'm not entirely sure Ana couldn't have done worse, but I was glad to be there to convince her that she would have to try rrrrrreally hard to come close.

Then it was trash time and line up time. Again, glad I was there. One boy, had apparently worn cotton in his ears for the first day had only taken two bites of lunch in the 20 minutes the class was allotted. Distressed, he stayed behind at the table to shovel food while the others threw away their trash. The 3 boys around him, taking a cue from Young Food Shoveler, were also unaware that the entire class had lined up. I helped Y-F-S pack up his lunch and by the time he, the other 3, and I were finished, the class had left. Y-F-S thought it meant that maybe they could pick what they wanted to do and therefore they could head to the playground, but I explained that no, we had to go back to the classroom and I was the leader.

Get back behind me, I am the leader.
Stop running! Do you remember you are supposed to be behind me?
Me, line leader. You, line.

Back in the classroom I was invited to help out with a class song. Ana's teacher, who I will refer to as Mary Poppins, plays an autoharp and makes up her own songs. I'm not kidding. I love this lady. Anywhoo, everyone was supposed to sit on their own colored square on the carpet. After I was able to re-approach the carpet (I had had to take a step back due to someone's off-gassing), this was the scene that I saw. Of approximately 20 kids:

4 were paying attention and looking at the teacher
3 were laying on the floor
12 were talking to their buddies
1 was sitting in the back picking her wedgie. Yes, you can guess who that one was.

Sadly, it took us 5 minutes to get to the actual song because we had to break up 3 good buddy conversations. The hard part about those are that while you break one up, 2 or 3 more form, so it's a bit like Whack-a-Mole. They just keep coming.

Then, there was the laying down epidemic of 2012. One child asked when nap was (Never, by the way). That set off a round of, "I'm tired! I need a nap!" Then, like fainters, they started to go down. The 3 laying on the floor turned into about 7. I thought Mary Poppins (MP from here on out) had lost the battle, but she rallied with another song, that included - wait for it! - sign language. Yet again, I kid you not. I love MP.

Finally the song was on. It was BINGO and I was the clapper for when a letter was omitted. Not sure I was all that necessary because a letter was never omitted. Oh, sure, MP and I omitted letters, but not so the rest of the laying down, whining, wedgie picking hearts in the room.

As I made my exit I heard one little boy say, "Is it snack time yet?" Hmmm... I believe we had just come from lunch. Perhaps that was my buddy, Y-F-S.


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Tuesday, June 26, 2012

Temporarily Suspended

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Monday, June 4, 2012

Developmental Milestones...

*Note: The milestones listed below are based on a small sample size, so should not be used as a strict guideline.

8 months - previously thought to be around 2 years of age, but turns out can be as early as 8 months, is the ability to unravel a roll of toilet paper in under 30 seconds. Technique used is that of a squirrel treading water.

8 months - the ability to crawl, but only backwards. Highly frustrating when attempting to move towards a coveted object, but the object continues to get farther and farther away.

8 months - the ability to be pleased by your own flatulance, also previously thought to develop during the toddler years. Evidenced by the whole body shiver that Sofia gives after releasing a bit of her own blend of air freshener.

5 years old - the ability to be sneaky, in a very obviously sneaky way. Evidenced by moving through a room on actual tiptoes (who does that?). Attempting to get a cookie out of the loudest, most crackly bag ever, all while keeping her gaze locked in on me (who was pretending I saw none of this so that I didn't have to deal with it in the moment).

5 years old - development of VERY strong desires. As evidenced by the 22 bucks a person we shelled out for the Ripley's Wax Museum during our San Antonio trip. Undeveloped at the time is the ability to discern that only 1 out of 100 of the wax figures actually looked like their human counterpart - evidenced by the joy displayed at meeting the wax Lady Gaga.

35 years old - development of a Pollyanna mindset. Evidenced by taking one 5 year old and 2 8 month olds on a riverboat, at 1:00 (felt like Hades), crammed in with 30 other people, for a trapped 45 minutes. Felt like a 3 hour tour... a 3 hour tour...

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Monday, May 28, 2012

What A Birch!

I can pull a story out of my arse should the need arise, which, with Ana, it often does. She has radar for things that are not appropriate for her to know about at the age of 5 1/2. Scott tested my abilities the other day, however, when he almost got run off the road by a very angry woman in a little white car.

Scott signaled, he waved, he slowed, he sped up, but she just kept squeezing us off of the road. The woman then rolled down her window, so he rolled down his and asked her to let him over. She responded with a string of expletives, while continuing to squeeze our van off of the road.

Scott is not one to yell random profanities out the window, especially not with his kids in the car, but he was fueled by the adrenaline of almost being forced into a crash and he was indignant at being called every bad name under the sun so he yelled back, "You're running me off the road, you b*tch!"

Of course, from the back, comes, "Mommy, what's a birch?"

Umm... a birch is a kind of tree, Honey.

Why did Daddy call that lady a birch?

Umm... well... she just came from Home Depot and she bought a birch tree to plant in her yard and she has it in the front of the car with her. It's blocking her view, so it made her almost run us off the road and so Daddy is calling her a birch so that she realizes her birch tree is making her drive badly.

Oh. Okay. Can you put on Britney Spirits music?

Whew. Crisis averted.

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Monday, May 21, 2012

For The Love Of The Game

Ana, did you like playing soccer this season?

No. It was a-kward.

Oh, so you don't want to do it again?

Well, will there be cookies and another trophy?


Okay, then. I will.

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Monday, May 14, 2012

Holy Margarita, Batman!

Well, it's official. I am a lightweight.

9 months of abstaining
+ 7 months of nursing exclusively, AKA only having 1 drink at a time
= You have napkin stuck to your face, What? I don't feel anything.

Mother's Day brunch tempted me with a tasty mango margarita. I answered the call. I think there was 9.9 parts alcohol to 0.1 parts mango in that thing. It was delicious.

Scott, too, stepped up to the plate taking on a solid 2 margaritas on a sleep deprived brain.

Below are the results.

Ana was drinking milk. Don't know what her excuse was...


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Monday, May 7, 2012

Turn of Phrase

Ana has been overhearing various phrases lately and is trying them out for herself, making her sound way older than her 5 1/2 years.

Mom. That house is HUGE! I could get used to that!!!

Ana, you're not eating your peas. Do you not like them?
You can say that again.

The latest was in response to a cautionary tale I told her about a boy at her school. Apparently the kiddo was acting out and dropped his drawers in the hallway. I was talking about it in reference to the fact that I'd like Ana to be a little more aware of how she plays with her skirts - sometimes, out of inattentiveness, they get hiked up a little too high for my taste. Looks like my lesson didn't work based on Ana's reply:

Well, that's one I would have liked to have seen.


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Saturday, May 5, 2012

Traveling Companions Not Wanted

Ana just returned from an almost week long Disney cruise with her Nana and Poppa Bear. Nana and PB were telling us about how much fun the whole experience was and it got us thinking down the road.

Ana, since the Disney cruise was so much fun, what do you think about you, Daddy, me, Reed, and Sofia all going on a Disney cruise sometime?

Ummm... no thank you. You won't be like Nana and Poppa Bear. You'll just say no, no, no! No more toys! No more dessert! Brush your teeth!

I have to admit, she did an uncanny impression...

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Monday, April 16, 2012

Wardrobe Difficulties

Ana won a gift card to Target during an Easter egg hunt. I promised her we could go yesterday and she woke up uber excited. My hands were full with the littlest people, so I told her to go get her clothes on so that we could go.

In our house, this is not something normally done. Ana has shown absolutely no interest in picking out her own clothes and I've never pushed the issue. Now I know why...

My first clue that things weren't going to be quite as coordinated as I would have liked came when Scott ran ahead of Ana into the room so that he could be there to see my face upon her entrance.

I could see where she was going with her outfit. Hearts match hearts... right?

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Monday, April 9, 2012

Wrong On So Many Levels

We got a paper in the mail encouraging us to be "kindness ninjas," people that go out and perform anonymous acts of kindness for others. This led to a discussion of ninjas, a look at Google images, a visit to You Tube, and a wrap up with the Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles. My girl's curiosity is thorough to say the least.

Ana has trouble remembering certain words correctly. She comes by it honestly. In 9th grade I mispronounced the word "gesture," out loud... in speech class. I guess I had never had to say it anywhere other than in my head. Well, I cracked the class up and you'd think my burning shame would have caused the proper pronunciation to be burned into my mind, but alas, to this day I have to pause approximately 20 seconds while I run all possible pronunciations through my mind to determine the one least likely to get me laughed at.

This turned out to be the case with Ana and "ninja." To Ana, it sounded somewhat similar to a female private part, and therefore morphed into the word "va-ninja". Despite lots of practice and intervention, it remained "va-ninja." Sigh.

Flash forward to a recent trip to the mall. We stopped into Claire's so that Ana could check out the bling. Also visiting at the same time was a woman in a burka. Yep. You can see where I'm going with this.

In voz alta:

Mom! Look!!! It's a real va-ninja!!!

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Monday, April 2, 2012

The Easter Bunny Is No Friend Of Mine...

Ana has never met a stranger. She'll talk to anyone, sing a song for anyone, show a dance move to anyone. As Mom and Dad, this is obviously concerning, so we have been talking about strangers quite a bit lately.

We were not making any progress whatsoever in giving her pause before she runs up to someone to chat, so we had to get a bit more specific. Although it could have scared her, we talked about people trying to get her to come into their car or house, or trying to get her to go off with them somewhere. We even had to give a little bit of an overview of where things might go. That FINALLY got her attention.

Flash forward to yesterday's neighborhood Easter egg hunt, complete with teenage boy dressed in bunny costume. Ana was beside herself with joy that the "real!!!!" Easter bunny would be at the park. She was so excited that I didn't have the heart to break it to her, so I went along with her. Not so great when she walked around the back side of the costumed boy and saw his neck. Uhhhh...

Ana brought up her disappointment in the van afterward:

Mom, I thought the real bunny would be there. You said the REAL bunny would be there. I wanted to meet him!!!

I know, Baby. I thought he would be there too, but you know what? One of the mommies got a text message from the real bunny saying that he had to stay behind at his house because he still had too many chocolate bunnies to make in time for Easter. So, he sent his very special human friend to wear a costume that looked like him and come to our Easter egg hunt.


I thought I was out of the woods. Instead, I should remember that old adage - what a tangled web we weave, when first we practice to deceive...



Well, since that human in the costume is a special friend of the Easter bunny, if he took his head off and asked me to come home with him for a playdate, would it be okay to say yes?

Try to work your way out of that one...

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Monday, March 26, 2012

R.I.P. Mr. Snake

We bought a house with a hot tub. A hot tub that doesn't work. A hot tub that we have never fixed and now never will.

While having our deck repaired, the casing around the hot tub was opened and a BIG snake was discovered. Knowing that we have many, many, many children in our house - okay, there are only 3, but I swear they seem like more - the men killed the snake and tossed it over the side of the deck into the grass.

Scott, Ana, babies, and I checked it out later that evening when Scott got home from work. The dead snake of course turned into a discussion about life and death and all things scaly. This led into a funeral for Mr. Snake and another Ana conversation with God. After properly tossing flowers at the snake - you don't want to get too close - Ana addressed the man upstairs.

God? There is a dead snake here. We are sorry that we killed it but we needed to protect children. You made grownups to protect children, so I'm sorry, but they had to help us. Can you tell the snake that? Can you tell him that we still love him?

And God? Can you give him a new body without that hole in it?

And God? Can you give him lots of good things to eat, like ice cream?

Ummm... Ana? Snakes don't eat ice cream (way to be a buzz kill, Mommy)

Oh yeah. God? Can you give him ice cream shaped like mice and rats?

And lots of grass to live in.

That's it. Thanks, God. I mean, Amen.

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