Game Time

I'm competitive. Sure, sure, when you invite us over we will smile and
play an innocent game of spades and eat snacks and make small talk.  You might even think I'm not really into the game. But know, on the inside, all I am thinking about is winning. Whipping you, in fact.

So today, at Chamblee's Christmas party, the kids played musical chairs. I stood in the back, setting up the snacks, and watched out of the corner of my eye as she made it through round after round. Smirk.

That's my girl.

It came down to the last two and then. she lost. To be fair, the little punk was walking so close to the chair he might as well have already been sitting in it. But, you know, who noticed...

My heart sank a little. Oh. She's going to be so disappointed. I would have to rush over and comfort her in her loss. Poor, sweet girl.

And then, it happened. She was the first one to clap for the boy who won. Her face was so full of joy for him and she was happy to have been able to play the game at all.
She did. not. care.

I learned from my three year old today.

So. Here I sit. Breastfeeding upstairs as my in laws prepare to have a holiday game night. They're clueless. It's about to go down.

Will I congratulate them if ((huge if)) they beat me?

Verdict's out...

Until Next Time,
The Guff

So What Wednesday Returns

So What If

I kind of don't believe Science. I just read some science article about how there are more stars in the sky than there are grains of sand in the world. I mean, who counted.

I could never have been a pole vaulter. Is that what those people are called? The ones who jump over a pole? No. A high jumper. I could never be one of those. Today, I couldn't clear the baby gate to save my life.

I went rogue on the lady who gave Jake his first haircut. She butchered his hair. in three scissor swipes. And charged me $18. Insanity.

Our babies have progressively snaked their way closer into our bed at night. Chamblee slept in the pac-n-play as a baby at the foot of our bed, Jake slept in his car seat by the bed forever and Josephine is a solid chest sleeper. *fist bump* It's like they told her we were suckers. 

I'm awesome at forgetting who to send Christmas cards to. Oh, you didn't get one? Tell me. I have extras. But only two. So not all at once.

We didn't buy a Christmas tree this year. ISAIDSOWHAT. Don't get me started. We just didn't. We do have a little fake one, so our kids haven't been completely neglected. Just a little. 

Cham peed in the bathroom sink today.  L  o  n  g  story.

I threw up yesterday when I changed Jake's diaper. Seriously.

I'm scared of the dark. Legit. Terrified.

I don't think I ever want to wear a heeled shoe again. ever. in my life.
Maybe a wedge. But definitely not. a heel.

So what if I am a rusty blogger. I'm digging myself out of the trenches.
Holiday travel should be the ticket back to some good. stuff.

Until Next Time,
The Guff

Um. Why Not?

Jake had a pretty tough week.

He got a green marker stuck in his ear.
No, he didn't just color his ear with green marker. He got a green marker. stuck. in his ear.

I got it out. 

Then he colored his face and stuck the marker up his nose. 

Then craft time was over. 

Those baby blues kill me. 

I die on the inside knowing that those little baby blues won't always be on a little baby boy face. 

He is going to grow up, and I am going to weep over it. 

Some girl is gonna love those baby blues one day and then I will die even more. 

But he will always love me the most. 

Yes, it's true. 

Don't tell me otherwise. 

He also had a rough go at Target. 

Sure, he wanted so badly to help me push Josephine around while we got wrapping paper and loaf pans for the pounds of banana bread I've been making.  

But he also wanted so badly for me to buy him a Hello Kitty hair dryer that he just couldn't walk anymore. 

In other news: Jake will not be getting a Hello Kitty hair dryer for Christmas. 

It's really hard to get a good picture of mascara in a little boy's blonde hair. 

It barely looks like he stole my mascara and ran with it. 

I saw the wand waving 'bye bye' as he ran ferociously down the hallway waving it in the air. 

By the time I got to him he had given himself quite the low lights. 

I straightened Chamblee's hair >just for fun< 

and it was four feet longer and she suddenly turned 15.

I don't know where the days are going, and the years are quite honestly breaking my heart. 

They are flying by. They are stealing my babies. Every day they get a little bigger, a little smarter and a little harder to let go of. I can't stop hugging them and kissing them and telling them how much I love them. What if they forget? "Mom, you JUST told me. I know!!!" Says the oldest. 

Speaking of time whisking away my littles... 

This one still has the baby smell, the nuzzle naps and the tiny toes.

But she's huge. What. is HAPPENING. 

Something good. Something real, real good is happening over here. 

Love is happening, play is happening, family is happening and there is an awful lot of dancing. 

I can't help but die a little every time we go to Target as a family. 

We take up the whole elevator. I love it so much. 

A lady stopped me in the aisle the other day and said, "These cannot possibly all be yours." 

Um, why not? 

I said, "You're right. They're my husband's too." 

And she kind of looked at me like I was slow and walked away. 

Maybe it was my tone. 

Anyway.

The Christmas countdown is on. Chamblee is acting out the Christmas story in her school play this Thursday - if anyone wants to come and watch the best acting you have ever. seen. you just let me know. 

Until Next Time, 

The Guff

Being Better

Oh my word.

Everywhere I go people ask me when I am going to write another blog. I sometimes want to answer, "When I get a nanny" or "When I get paid to". But I don't. I'm trying people. Really hard.

I have drafts on my phone and thoughts in my head. And I honestly didn't realize that so many people read this thing. But it's hard to blog with three kids, y'all.

Three kids is awesome. It's awesome in the absolute most awesome way. Can I say that?
Ever since sweet J bird arrived I have kind of put everything on hold. I've been on the floor rolling around with the bigs and taking in the snuggles and baby sighs of the littlest one. What if she is my last birthed baby? I can't even. Let's not talk about it.

So. Today. The answer is today.
I'm writing a blog. Here goes. I'm ready.

That's right, I'm wearing Uggs. 

Haters gon' hate.

Last week was Thanksgiving. The week leading up to it was rough. Chamblee had a terrible cough and gave it to Jake and they weren't sleeping at night. Sunday C woke up saying her ear hurt, so I took her in. Double ear infection & sinus infection. Yikes. Josephine is a baby. So she was cluster feeding or growth spurting or, you know, just being a sweet baby. Not sleeping.

It was my turn for the night shift and I was up from around 11 to 6. Twenty minute naps here and there. You know how it goes. I'm ok with it. Remember? Last birthed baby? Don't even... So around 3 I'm walking her and singing and talking in funny voices to her. Because, well, that's what you do when you haven't slept in days and you're keeping on the sunny side. No? You don't do that? Lies. I hear water. Like, shower water. No. Dishwasher running. Yes. That's what it was. And I keep on keepin' on. Around 5 I hear it again. Not the dishwasher. Washing machine! Yes. That must be it. I have been doing so much laundry.

Can I just point out that I'm slow? Why would the washing machine be running if I hadn't started it. Honestly.

So I give up on getting her to sleep around 5:30 and go upstairs to wake K up and pass the baton. Jake is in our bed. That means one thing and one thing only. I can't wake K up. He hasn't slept all night either. See also: Jake is a monster bed hog blanket hoarder ninja kicker right to the face master of flipping and reversing and laughing and chatterbox while snoring and coughing and snotting and eye poking dinosaur. That's right. No commas.

Ugh.

I go back downstairs. Water. WHAT THE.
I go to check on my ever self-loading laundry and then I hear it. Gushing. Garage.

I open the door and it's like the lazy river at White Water. Remember that? Our stuff. is floating.
Water is pouring out of the water heater like whoa.

I calmly go up the stairs {because jbird has since fallen asleep, naturally} and enter our room. "MAMA!!!" Oh, hey jake, you ninja sleeper, you. Tap K on the shoulder and whisper, "The water heater is busted and it's flooding the garage." And walk out of the room.

K is up on his feet and down the stairs. Home Depot opens at 6. He goes.

I lay on the couch and sleep with my tiny girl until I wake up around 8 with Cham sitting in the bend of my knees and Jake sitting between my back and the couch. How did this happen and where is the paparrazzi? I want a picture. There's no one to take it, so I sit very still and take it myself. A mental picture. All three of my babies snuggled up with me, all on their own. I'll never forget it. There's a cartoon on, believe it or believe it. Chamblee now knows how to turn on Hulu and pick out Kung Fu Panda. Or buy a movie. Whatev.

We are out of commission. No water for a week. A week! So we go to my parents' house early and hibernate for a week. A week! Steal their water. Eat their food. Toy bomb their house.

We take Josephine to the doctor in Albany because she's not doing so hot and find that she has RSV. #winning. And that was our Thanksgiving. Breathing treatments and antibiotics and ear drops and coughs.

Sure, I'm leaving out all of the good stuff:: the food and the sewing with my mama and the busting out of old yearbooks and the time spent with my grandmothers and laughing so hard with my mom it makes me want to move back home to see her more often ((but not really)).

It was stressful, but it was worth it. Family always is. To me, anyway. 

Today our water heater is fixed and everyone in our household is healthy. I'm the only one who never got the funk. It's a good thing, because someone once told me that moms couldn't afford to get sick- and it's true.

I promise to be a better blogger, all of you who care. I promise. Pinky swear with a kiss.
But first, I'm trying to be a better mama and a better wife. A better Jesus follower and a better friend. A better sister and a better daughter. I'm working on bettering lots of other things... but I promise to try to be a better blogger in the midst.

Eighteen days until Christmas and I'm bursting at the seams. There is so. much. good. going on that I seriously might spontaneously combust. It really is the most wonderful time of the year!

Until Next Time,
The Guff