Friday, March 28, 2014


I hate FaceTime.  There.  I said it.  I hate talking on the phone ... why on Earth would I enjoy FaceTime?  Jared is constantly trying to FaceTime with me.  I hate it.  When he does this, I immediately pass the phone off to a kid.  Any kid.  Doesn't matter.  Consequently ... the kids LOVE FaceTime.  Love it.  Live, breathe and die for it.  It's like walkie-talkie's on steroids, dipped in battery-draining fun, and sprinkled with "I-hardly-ever-get-to-play-with-my-OWN-phone-these-days" sugar.  Did I mention I hate FaceTime? 

Guess who loves FaceTime the most?  This gal.

Guess who I'm home alone with, all day, every day?  This gal.

Our FaceTime conversations ... they're painful at best.

It's mostly funny faces and pointless questions like, "Where are you right now?"  Dude ... are you kidding me?!?!  I'm sitting on the couch like five feet away from you ... what do you mean, "Where are you right now???"  Again.  Painful.

This is a cry for help.  Really.  Someone please offer to FaceTime with this kid ... I'm so done.

Friday, March 21, 2014

Flashback Friday: Running Fools

First grade Lori, running for her life in some sort of school fundraiser she doesn't even understand.

First grade Ashy, running for her life in some sort of school fundraiser she completely understands.

First grade Ashy is so much smarter than first grade Lori, it's not even funny!

Thursday, March 20, 2014


This morning I came into her room and she was sitting on the edge of her bed looking ticked off as usual.  I said, "Good morning! How'd you sleep?"  Her response, "Your husband woke me up this morning."

  I don't even know what to say to that?  I really don't.  The way Jared brushes his teeth and puts on his deodorant every morning ... how painfully noisy he is.  I just looked at my extremely annoyed 4 year-old and said, "I know.  I'm so sorry.  The neighbors have complained too."

About a week ago I noticed a white hair growing on Ashy's head.  I asked for permission to pull it so we could both marvel at it's sheer awesomeness.  She said yes ... I pulled it ... and no joke, we spent a good five minutes just staring at it in total silence.

AND THEN, the questions came flooding in from the World's Biggest Over-thinker.  "What does this mean?  Am I getting old too fast?  Do I need to see a doctor?  Am I really only 7?  I feel so much older now, Mom."  Basically anything good OR bad that has happened in the last week, she credits her white hair, naturally.  This could get very old, very quickly.

Relax young grasshopper, and make that face again ... the one that really bugs your older sister.  Please just keep being 7 ... at least a little bit longer.  Before you know it, you'll be eight and you'll look like Gandolf the Grey.

This girl wants a dog.  This girl wants a dog SO badly that lately she's been coming up with ways to express how getting a dog could be the answer to basically anything.  Her most recent and most desperate attempt ... "If we get a dog, Ashy and Anistyn will stop fighting so much because they'll be so scared of the new dog, they'll just hide in their rooms all day."  I'm not embarrassed to admit that I've actually given this one some thought.

Jared's tip top.  This picture was taken last night ... just minutes before I was given my annual March Madness lecture.  "Lor, can you seriously just TRY to take more than 60 seconds when you fill out your bracket this year?  I'm not asking for much ... just ... I don't know ... maybe think for 5 seconds instead of 2 seconds before picking each team."  My bracket was completed in two minutes.  I've already forgotten who I picked to win the whole thing.  Why???  Because I DON'T FREAKING CARE!

You wanna know what I DO care about?  I took a picture of my feet while waiting in the drive-thru pharmacy line at Smith's today.  I have much bigger things to worry about right now than March Madness.  Ladies and gentleman ... I present to you ... Rock Bottom.

Sunday, March 16, 2014

An iMoment

iLove ...

These Girls ...

So Much ...


Saturday, March 8, 2014

A Breakdown Of Our Game





Brute Strength.

Our game ... admittedly needs some work.

Thursday, February 20, 2014

She Still Sucks Pretty Bad

Anistyn still sucks her thumb.  It's true.  Judge me.  I deserve to be judged.  Six months ago, Anistyn's dentist chastised me over it ... nice and good, actually.  I left the office practically in tears, and swore up and down that I would get her to stop.  

Just like I swore the year before ...

And the year before that ...

And the year before that ...

I remember a few years ago, listening to our dentist talk to me about the dangers of "bad habits" ... and the way she made it sound like thumb-sucking was basically a gateway habit.  I didn't know where she was going with that ... she kept talking and I of course blocked her out because I'm looking at my 6 month old, thinking, "Gateway habit?  What?  You mean, first it's thumbs?  Then lollipops?  Then crack pipes???"  Then I start to laugh to myself, because Anistyn has shown absolutely zero interest in crack pipes so far.  I mean, it's like our dentist doesn't even know her at all!

But yeah, six months ago, our beloved dentist who secretly thinks we're on our way to a crack habit, suggested THIS ...

So I ordered it off Amazon and when it came in the mail, I painted it on Anistyn's fingernails that very night, thinking, "This will be a cinch!  Our thumb-sucking days are over."  Cut to 10 minutes later and the fact that Anistyn decided to just go for it anyway, despite my warnings ... because what's a little bit of poison on your fingernails?  How bad could it possibly be, right?  Actually ... bad. It could be very, very BAD. And I can say that because she was crying so hard, I grew curious ... and decided to just taste this Mavala stuff myself.  This was six months ago. To this day, I still have taste buds that refuse to talk to me or acknowledge certain flavors when they hit my tongue.  

The kids have a dentist appointment next week.  I can't take another beating over Anistyn's "bad habit" ... so last night, I decided to try again.  I painted some more Mavala on Anistyn's thumb nails and went over the rules and warnings with her once more ... hoping for a better outcome.  Anistyn immediately asked to wear mittens to bed.  Fine.  Done.  And she wanted water.  Got it.  No Problem.  And one phone call.  Wait?!  What?!?!  And after ALL of this special treatment, an hour later, she's sobbing and screaming and taking cheap shots at my parenting skills through the very thin walls of our home.
A few of my personal favorites from last night ...
"You are the WORST MOM EVER!"
"I'm not talking to you ever again!"
"How could you do this to me?"
"My thumbs are falling off!"
"I can't breathe!!!"
"Take me to a hospital!"
"I'm gonna DIE!"

So yeah ...eventually she DID manage to get inside my head.  I envisioned myself in the ER with her, and some doctor turning to me and saying, "Ma'am, do you realize Mavala isn't even legal in the U.S.?" ... and then they book me and cuff me and Anistyn is still sucking her thumb on her wedding day, as her future husband tries to come to terms with his wife's "bad habit", not to mention her jacked up teeth, worthless taste buds, and impending crack addiction.

We'll try again tonight. And the night after that.  And the night after that.  Until thumb-sucking is a thing of the past.  In the meantime ... Anistyn can bed down with Jared and I and we'll watch the Winter Olympics way too late and talk about how silly Figure Skating is and how Snowboard Cross is just about the coolest, craziest thing since Mavala! 

Oh how I fancy these fools with a death wish.