Random-nous

You may notice that every post I blog about has a purpose. That's just the way I groove, man. Whether it's about crazy Conner, something I've made, or something that I have OCD'd about, there is always a purpose or theme.

Well today I am throwing caution into the wind! This month has thrown me into a downward spiral of disarray. It's been a month of sickness for me. It started off with the pukes and has now turned into an endless, monotony of coughing. It's not a bad cough. It's the 'tickle in the back of your throat' kind of cough. But it's enough to make me want to pull my hair out. I wonder if I have allergies. I've never had to deal with allergies and totally feel for anyone that has to deal with them. But then I don't have the itchy, watery eyes, or the sniffles and runny nose. Just a stupid cough. A cough that has tested the strength of my bladder for the last few weeks. (those of you that have given birth know what I mean. or not. maybe my bladder is just dorky.)

cough*hack*cough

See what I mean.

cough*hackin'*cough*hackin'

Again with the coughing!

Since I've decided to throw caution into the wind, I decided to post about some recent happenings and pictures that our little family has experienced.

Soccer season is finally over. Amen.

Here are some cool action shots of my oldest, little man. Our poor team struggled this year. It was an uphill battle the whole way, but they tried with all of their might. He forgot his jersey on this particular day. Sheesh.

Conner enjoyed running away or running onto the field, during the entire game. He also enjoyed giving a soccer ball a ride in his stroller.

And then check out that coach... (insert whistle - Woot! Woo!)

hackin'*cough*phlegm*hackin'

sorry

A couple of weeks ago, our school's 5th graders put on a 'Wax Museum' display.

Cody chose to be Wilbur Wright - co-inventor of the airplane. I quickly sewed this nifty vest, threw a hat on him and called it good. I tried to convince Cody to put a bald head piece on, 'cause the dude was bald, but Cody wasn't cool with that.

Do you like the pose he chose. He decided to look down, so he wouldn't have to look at all of the people gawking at him.

I had a good time, making his friends crack up.

cough*hack*cough

excuse me

And look at that poster on the left! I thought he was going to be graded on it and I made Cody put in some extra effort in decorating it and stuff. After the 'Wax Museum' tour, I realized that we really didn't have to put much effort into it. He only got points for bringing a poster. Lame.

Last night, as I was watering my flowers, I found this...

No, not the veiny, sinewy, muscular arm. The snake. The poor thing was so frightened of us, he pooped and peed in defense. Which is exactly what I would do. And I'm not ashamed to admit it.

I'm really not that afraid of snakes. As long as I find them first and they don't find me.

Conner enjoyed the snake and wanted to toss a football back and forth with him. He chucked the football at him, but the snake was not amused.

cough*hackin'*hackin'*cough

insert cough drop

I bought a lawnmower for Conner yesterday, since no one else seems to want to mow our lawn. He didn't mow our lawn but he did mow our driveway. Over and over again. His mower also comes equipped with bubbles. Yeah, I went for the up-grade model.

He has also decided to start scaling the walls and appliances. I've decided that he will be Spiderman for Halloween this year.

Last week I took him to get his haircut and I brought re-reinforcements (Steve and Cody). The last time he had a haircut it was a disaster! And that's putting it mildly. We blamed his attitude and tornadic acts on lack of sleep. Apparently we were wrong. So very wrong.

I don't know what happened. His first few haircuts went without any horrendous fits. He was so angelic-like. All passer-bys would 'oooo and awwww' at the cute baby. Long gone are those days. Steve had to sit with him and restrain him while I held his head. I wanted him to just have a trim, but instead I screamed to the hairdresser over the loud and constant whaling, "Buzz the kid! For heaven's sake, buzz him!"

(sigh)

I miss his hair. His hair was part of his trademark. It was floppy, yet Alfalfa-like, all at the same time. (sigh)

So there you have it. Just a few random pics and stories of our recent going-on's.

cough*hackin'*phlem*cough

Tiller of the Soil

Last week, during my un-bloggy-ous-nous (I believe this word should be added to the Webster's Dictionary), I promised that once I got back in the saddle again, I would have another giveaway this week. Well, it ain't gonna happen! (I got my schoolin' in the back woods of Wyomin')

And why, may you ask? The end of the school year shenanigans have taken up much of my OCD intervals (around the house, that is) and my OCD intervals have now spilled over to the outside of my humble abode.

Lately, I have become 'one' with the soil. (Ommmmmmmmmm. This would be me, meditating the mysteries of dirt). This happens every year. And quite frankly, I thoroughly enjoy it. For the past couple of years, I have been pre-occupied with baby-dom. That will do it, to a gardner wanna-be. But now my inner gardner has re-emerged and I have been busy sowing the earth and my wild oats. Okay, maybe not my wild oats. Because apparently, according to the majority of trashy romance novels, sowing my wild oats channels unmentionable tendencies and habits.

Martha will not stand for the sowing of wild oats.

Beautiful signs of spring!

My heart flutters looking at the vibrant colors of spring!

Hello, friend.

Now that my inner gardner has emerged, I have been adding a lot of organic material to enrich the much disfavored, clay-like dirt of Utah. Which is only good for the making of ancient, Indian pots.

Feast your eyes on this lovely organic material! Seeing the dark, fibrous material blanketing my flower beds make me happy. It fills my inner- sanctum with peace. (Ommmmmmmmm. Again, with the meditating!)

Isn't there nothing more lovely than watching the sprinklers at the break of dawn? (Okay, I'm getting carried away with my 'waxing philosophical' self)