say what?

sitting at the computer, i heard zach laughing and yelling as tali chased him through the house... this is what i overheard next

tali- AAAaaAAAaaAAAAHHHhhHHhhHhhHHHhH!!!!!! [as she catches zach]

zach- oh man, i hate wedgie night.

tali- shoot!

zach- oh well, you can do wedgie night tomorrow.

tali- yeah, since i didn't get your underwear on that one.

they then walked together into their bedroom, sat down, and chatted about whatever was on tv.

as i looked on in utter confusion.

friday flashback (may 2007)

We were sitting in the living room when sudden movement caught my eye- and that of our cat, Precious... it was a mouse in the house. Doing as any self-respecting cat would, Precious pounced. I silently cheered her on- Jim was at work and I didn't know how else to deal with the creepy little critter. A moment later and Tali and Zach joined me in watching the commotion, until Tali realized what was going on...

"Stop her! Stop her!" Tali yelled.

"What about the stupid mouse, Tali???"

"I'll catch it!!!!" at this point, she was nearing hysteria so I grabbed the cat.

The mouse sat there, stunned.

"How are you going to catch it?" I said smartly.

Tali was already in motion- grabbing a sock from the laundry basket she pulled it over her hand. The mouse was beginning to wake from it's daze, so she had to chase it around the living room as I restrained Precious (note I never offered to assist in the mouse catching) and Zach cheered his sister on from a safe distance. If my memory serves me... that was in the living room, standing on the couch.

Sure enough, our little wildlife activist caught the mouse, and decided that she would release it across the street. At an age when most girls would squeal and run in the next room, Tali was overcome by the thought of this little mouse being injured by her (in my mind) heroic cat. Here are some pictures for your viewing pleasure (and proof that this is a true story! LOL)

Tali just a few minutes after the rescue. How sweet of her to stand on the porch holding the wriggling mouse while I ran around looking for my camera!

Just after the release, Tali watches closely to make sure the little guy is going to be able to get away. I shudder at the thought of what it would have meant had the rodent been too stunned and/or injured by his ordeal to scamper away.

One last farewell. See the boo-boo on it's little eye? Poor thing. And that's Zach's finger. At this point he's summoned up every bit of courage he has to touch the little thing. At least his sister had the good sense to cover her hand. A brisk washing with antibacterial soap quickly ensued.

Mission complete. I love this picture. So "just another's day work"... in the life of a six year old.

Free Dr. Pepper!

It's like a special little smile from God, just for me :) (and Courtney)...

This Sunday you can go onto Dr. P's website and download a coupon for a free bottle of thirst quenching deliciousness. Read why here.

my hot date

Last Thursday I had the opportunity to work at the Area Wide Residence Council... it is a function where all the Residence Councils of local nursing facilities (that's the pc term for a nursing home) get together to honor one another, have a great meal, and play a mad game of BINGO. Every local facility brought 1-10 residents... so there were A LOT of people there.

I hadn't planned on helping with the event, but a last minute email of desperation changed my mind and I volunteered. Driving there on Thursday I prayed that the Lord would help me be a little bit of Jesus to the people that would be there. That He would help me to take time out of the busyness to sit down, have a conversation, look these amazing folks in the eyes, and let them know that we really do care about them. They are not forgotten. They are valued.

The morning started off with assisting people into the building. Walking along with sweet ladies and their walkers, there was plenty of time for a conversation. Pushing wheelchairs there was always something to talk about. And when everyone was in there was certainly time to sit and chat with people from all over the area. There was an award presentation (one of the awards is incidentally named after my uncle- Kenneth Talley- who was a pretty cool cat on the nursing home scene in his day!). Then a yummy meal. And then....

drum roll please.........................................................................

Elvis entered the building. Yep. Elvis (ie Bruce Borders). And there are really no words to describe how much these people love Elvis. Suffice it to say they love him a lot.

I was standing in the back of the room watching the fun when this gentleman in a green cardigan wheeled up to me.

"How old do you think I am" he asked.

If you ever find yourself in this position, shoot at least 15 years below their actual age. It's a trick of the trade. "Oh, I don't know.... 72???"

"Nope! I'm 89 years old!!! Will be 90 soon" clearly delighted that I was so horribly wrong.

"Well goodness gracious! You're getting around great! And still as sharp as a tack!" I replied with great gusto and enthusiasm.

"I can walk, want to see?"

At this point I start to stutter and make eye contact with his aide, standing directly behind him. Sometimes it's not safe for people to hop up out of their wheelchairs, and that's what this fella was in the middle of doing... her lack of concern indicated that it was okay, so I offered my hand for stability... and sure enough, he stood up, took a few shuffling steps, turned to me and said...

"Want to dance?"

Weeeelllll, now.... The smooth sounds of Elvis... a distinguished older man in a green cardigan... OF COURSE I WANTED TO DANCE!

Taking his hands I told him that of course I'd love to dance. And dance we did. No slow dance either, we were dancing to "Don't be cruel". He led me around in circles, arms going up and down with the beat of the music. It wasn't a long dance as he tired quickly... but it was so much fun.

And it made me cry. Because I'm a nerd like that. I made him promise to come back next year, because I'd never danced with a 90 year old before. So it's a date. Don't tell Jim ;)

This is the interesting thing... All the while that day I had asked God to allow me to be a little bit of Jesus to someone. And it turns out... this fellow was a little bit of Jesus to me instead. Isn't that how it always seems to work?

mother of the year

It's the moment you've been waiting for, blogerotsky. That's right, I finally have pictures of my amazing little man being tortured on the child-sized version of the Liberty Launcher at Holiday World. I know it's sadistic. I know I run the risk of being turned in to CPS. I know that he will one day use this blog post against me in an effort to get me to pay his therapy bills. Yet here, for your viewing pleasure... a photo blog.

Tali loved the "bouncy ride". Over and over she would get out of the seat, run around the front, and get immediately back into line. She rode it at least a dozen times, squealing with every little drop and bounce.

Meanwhile Zach happily waited in line and then rode the very safe, very slow, ride attendant right in the water with you, bumper boats. Despite my attempts to explain to him that he could easily ride the "bouncy ride" with Tali and still get in on the next round of the boats, he would have none of it.

Bumper boat craving satisfied, Zach still did not want to ride with sissy... until Grandma B offered to get him blue cotton candy if he tried it. The boy has a price. And it's apparently blue cotton candy. In this instance I felt perfectly okay with the bribery. Zach had been hesitant to ride anything new all day long, and liked each of the rides after he'd given them a chance. I can't say as much for the bribery that would come later.

Tali, now a professional rider, helped him get situated. Note the look of apprehension on his face.

Fake smiles ensued.

His smile [albeit fake] didn't last long, however....

are you ready for this?

[wait for it]

[wait for it]

Shamefully, mom and I laughed so hard we were in tears. He was trying so hard to be brave... doing everything in his power to fight the tears... and I, mother of the year, found humor in that. At least his sister was concerned about him.

Even more shamefully, after telling his daddy and Grandpa B [who were riding the Raven during this time] about this moment, they began to scheme. And their scheme included a monetary incentive for Zach to ride the ride again. That's right, Zach has a price. And it's apparently blue cotton candy OR $6. The ride was no better for him the second time. But he will NOT admit he was afraid. "It was pun" is his answer. My brave little man.

Courage is doing what you're afraid to do. There can be no courage unless you're scared.
Eddie Rickenbacker

He was definitely afraid. But he did it anyway. And he DID NOT cry. And I promise, I will never let anyone bribe him to do it again. Because I already got all the pictures I need! LOL

friday flashback

Maybe a scrapbook page is a strange post for a Friday Flashback... but this is definitely a flashback for me! This is one of my favorite pictures of all time of Zachary... and the title... is perfect... because truth be told Zach did fall in love with dirt at a very young age. And the infatuation has not eased a bit! My little man is just about a year old in this photo, and ranges from one to three in the pics on the page below. How he has grown! Look at those dimpled little baby hands! His short, short hair! Chubby little cheeks! But the saaaame beautiful brown eyes! And the same passioned response to dirt, mud, sand [doesn't matter as long as it's dirty]. Just tonight after remaining relatively clean through his entire ball game... giving the big high-fives... grabbing a drink at the concession stand... I am talking to family when I turn to see Z running with great gusto from third to home... and you guessed it, the only kid on the field and he's sliding head first into home. The kid loves dirt.

This flashback has duel purpose for me, though. It's about more than the amazing picture of my little man... it's about the scrapbook layout itself. See, I understand the passion Zach has for dirt... I feel that way when I see beautifully patterned paper. Dotted ribbon. Chipboard letters. Heidi Swapp. Basic Grey. But somehow, the last six or so months, I lost complete sight of that. I seldom, if ever, thought scrapping, much less pulling out my beloved pictures of my beloved family and actually cutting and pasting myself into oblivion. The feeling of my sanding block almost forgotten. I could actually go places without the stain of ink on my finger tips.

And although I didn't realize it, I missed it. Terribly.

Then, a week ago tonight, I went to a crop and actually made a layout featuring my own family [actually just Zach and Amp], and it turned out so cute. The process itself was refreshing and relaxing. It was great to use that creative outlet once again. And I'm so ready for more. I had been out of the game for a while. I'd stayed clean, kept the bits of paper off my dining room floor, and refrained from buying fun new stuff... but guess what... I feel like I just ran from third base and slid face first in to home. I'm thinking tomorrow I've got some pictures calling my name. Watch out world, 'cause Becky's got her scrap on!

update: just fyi- that beautifully patterened paper you see. basic grey. just so you know what get's my blood pumping ;) and this layout was created for the $20,000 scrapbook contest in 2006.

stuff christians like...

...strikes again.

seriously. go here. read. enjoy.
[but don't drink anything while you are doing so. it's guaranteed to come out of your nose.]
Kicking old ladies in the face for God. What!?!

spring fever...

my kids have gone stark raving mad. i'm not even sure who they are anymore. non-stop giggling. poking. teasing. more giggling. running. wrestling. yelling. back to giggling.

as i type this, it's 40 minutes past their bedtime... and they've been laying in their room giggling the entire time. they can't control it. playing outside, the change in the weather, the promise of summer vacation, ... it brings out the worst [best] in them. it's a strange quandry for a parent to be in. on the one hand... they are pushing the rules to the absolute breaking point. willfully trying your patience. purposefully annoying one another. on the other they are living life to the max. finding joy in the silliest things. walking around in a slap-happy stupor. there are times i know i should be disciplining, and instead... i'm dissolving into giggles right along with them. do you think spring fever is contagious?

stuff christians like...

thanks to lauren who sent me a link to this blog
Stuff Christians Like

it's absolutely hysterical and worthy of a visit.
insightful stuff.

fun with baptism....

please watch this...



pastor may be slightly annoyed.
but i'm thinking.
we should all enter the waters with that kind of enthusiasm!

meet ruby and shirley....

i cannot even begin to guess what they were thinking. i cannot explain how "ruby and shirley" came to be. all i know is i laughed til my sides hurt. i laughed til i cried. and then, naturally, i took pictures.

tali came into where i was working. with great bravado she announced a show... living with tali, impromptu off-broadway productions are not uncommon. swiveling in my seat i braced myself for whatever was causing zach to giggle uncontrollably in the other room. and then she began...

[there was no drum roll, yet somehow, i heard one anyway]

NOW INTRODUCING.............

RUBY

and

SHIRLEY!

that's my dirt-lovin', truck-playin', frog-ownin' son... in a sports bra and a hannah montana wig. wow.

and i'm digging on the jazz hands as well. this is my life. quirky. blessed. h-i-l-a-r-i-o-u-s.

[for those who need to know. zach is shirley. tali is ruby. and i have no clue where those names came from.]

UPDATE:

i was informed after this post, that zach's wardrobe was not accidental. the black bra is for batman... the red shorts for superman. i'm sure this is the bait used by his sister to convince him it was "okay".

and because i didn't think to include it initially, the song that accompanied the show, sang by tali, was in part...

i am ruby, she is shirley

i am ruby, she is shirley

i am ruby, she is shirley

aaaaannnnnnnnddddd

he is my sister.

overheard...

[check out that smile... a real ladies man, right... guess again]

Jim, sitting on the couch with Tali who has been under the weather all day sends Zach on several errands. First, find a hair brush. Zach is able to accomplish that with no help at all. Next, need some kleenex (not the Vicks kind, refer to post below). This task required only minimal assist in locating the correct kind of kleenex. Third, get the thermometer...

Jim: "It's right there on the shelf"

Zach looks around aimlessly.

Jim: "No, there next to you, look up a little"

Zach: "I not see it. Why do I hab to det eberything?"

Jim: "Because today you're my little slave boy, there... it's right by your hand"

Zach, finding the thermometer and taking it to daddy: "I'm not your slave... her is" pointing to me.

Jim: "Oh, yeah, right buddy."

Zach: "Well, her is your wife, her is your slave."

Our little comedian. Because that was obviously a joke.

overheard...

Jim was sorting through some things this morning, as I listened from the other room I heard:

Jim: "Here, take this to your mommy"
Tali: "But who is it?"
Jim: "Who do you think it is?"
Tali: "I don't know"
Jim: "Well, look at it, who does it look like?"
Tali: "Zach?"
Jim: "No, Zach's not even that old, look at it."
Tali: "Me?"
Jim: "No, that's not you... look at it."
Tali: "I don't know..."
Jim: "That's ME when I was a little boy."
Tali: "Then where is your moustache?"

Update: Jim spent the rest of the day trying to convince the children that he was in fact NOT born with a moustache. At Kaden's birthday party he even made his mom tell them that he had a sweet, smooth little baby face... but my kids simply refuse to believe it. Apparently their daddy without a moustache just isn't their daddy at all.

How to eat a cupcake.

Tali had cupcakes at her birthday dinner today... cute little tiny ones. Kaden, concerned with getting his hands messy, chose to improvise. The picture speaks for itself.