Momlog 2015: life with a 6 year old


6 year olds bring their own challenges.  Mine is keeping me on my toes mainly because I never know what he’s going to say. 

In the fall we took a field trip with our local homeschool group to the Blue Bell factory (the best ice cream in the south that I’ve found).  He’s all about Blue Bell ice cream now.  I am definitely a fan as I grew up eating Blue Bell….that’s pretty much all my parents will buy.  I remember growing up, when we visited my grandma (who lived in Karnes City) we would pack a cooler with Blue Bell and take it to her since it wasn’t carried in her local grocery store.  My family is a fan of the Blue Bell.  

This past week we had lunch with friends at Jason’s Deli.   The Boy loves Jason’s because they offer good Mac-n-cheese.  I like it because of their California club and the fruity mix up salad…and the soups.  They offer some great healthy options but turkey, bacon and avacado on a croissant….that’s good stuff.  Plus they have great fresh fruit and fruit dip.  Most kids love it because they have a soft serve ice cream machine and free ice cream.  All the other kids in our group were begging for ice cream as soon as they ate some of their lunch (ages 6 to 11). I asked my son if he would like some.  He said “Nah.”  I told him “You like it”. He said, “I’ll get some Blue Bell ice cream when we get home. I don’t like this ice cream”. My son is an ice cream snob.  I can’t blame home because I’m a coffee snob and a dounut snob and probably some other snob too.  I did tell him there would be no ice cream once we get home, it’s now or never.  He opted out of the soft serve.  

He certainly is forming his own opinions.  TheGirl loved the soft serve.  She’s not so snobby about her snacks. 


Momlog 2015: A Moment


I wish I could have taken a picture or recorded a video.  It was a priceless moment.

Almost all day today, The Boy, for lack of a better term, was listless.  We went to the playground and he moped around.  I’m one of those relentless moms who keeps asking, “What’s wrong with you?”  Sorry, all you great moms who gentle check your kids temperature and say things like, “Show, mamma where it hurts.” I’m just not that mom.  He poked around all day.  He’s a pokey kind of kid (I have a deep belief that God gave me a child who is pokey to slow me down because I typically have one speed and it is full charge ahead).  He told me all these pitiful problems he was having today.  Seriously, I laughed at him a little.  His stomach hurt. Of course I asked him if he had pooped today.  He said “No” but I suspect he couldn’t really remember.  He is 6 and 1/2 now (and don’t forget the half because he sure doesn’t) so I don’t monitor his poops.  Naturally, I gave him a bunch of fruit at dinner.  I know he had yogurt at breakfast and not that yoplay stuff either the good Greek yogurt that has all the probiotics.   I checked to make sure he didn’t have a bruise or something on his stomach.  Yet he continued to mope around.  His next answer, after he moped around at the park and drank 1/2 of a large McDonald’s sweet tea (1/2 sweet, 1/2 unsweet because sweet tea is just too sweet) was that he was needed water.  He was seriously pitiful.  I prayed for him because I’m not at all tolerant of self-pity….in myself or anyone in my family.  No pity parties.  There are kids in Africa who drink dirt water once a day and you just drank my whole tea.  (I was a bit concerned that if he did have some kind of stomach thing going on that we will all get it because we shared that tea.)

He came home and moped his way through some school work.  Then he went and laid down on his bed at 6:15 p.m.  I made him get up to eat dinner.

He did eat dinner which made me think, maybe it wasn’t a stomach thing.

A prayer group from our church meets at our house on Tuesday evenings so after dinner I sent him upstairs.  I told him he could play or get ready for bed since he wasn’t feeling well and he was so tired.  He chose to stay up and play (big surprise).

The Hubs was late getting home from work.  I told the Boy to get ready for bed and come say good night.  That means he stayed up a little later than usual.

He came bounding down the stairs.  He says, “Mama, mama, I know why my stomach has been hurting.”  (He’s pointing at me).  I ask, “Why?”.  He says, “Because I didn’t say I was sorry yesterday.”  His little six year old face was so serious.

Rewind to yesterday.  Because of our sleep issues (Baby Girl has been waking up around 3 a.m. every other night and she’s sooo loud) I was tired.  The weather was so nice, I sent the kids out to play while I sat down to do some reading before we started school.  I was watching out the window and I had the back door open.   Baby girl is not yet two so she is still in a diaper.  And she one tough cookie.  Seriously, she falls down and gets right back on and goes on with her life.  She was in the yard doing “downward puppy” (think yoga “downward dog”  I have no idea why).  He kicked her on her bottom (Her bottom was right there in the air, I can see the temptation).  Twice.  And he probably would have done it again except I started yelling at him.  She didn’t fall down or even seem phased by the kick.  However, I want to teach him to be protective over her and not a mean brother.   I told him, he would have a consequence for the kicking.

When he was little-little (he’s still kind of little to me) we would make him tell us “I’m sorry” when he behaved badly.  We have been teaching Baby Girl to say “sorry” too (she uses sign language at this point).  In our family we say “sorry” when we mess up…we take responsibility when we do the wrong thing or hurt someone whether is was intentional or accidental.  It’s part of our DNA.  This is also how we start teaching our kids about repentance. I have been giving The Boy a little more leeway in apologizing because I want him to do it by his own choice not because I force him too.  I kind of let the “sorry” slide yesterday.

Fast forward to this evening,  The Boy says, “Mr. Eddie (his teacher at church) said that when we do things wrong it makes our heart heavy.  That’s why my stomach hurt.  I told Jesus that I’m sorry but I forgot to tell you.” (he was talking to me).  My response was (and he was so sincere that The Hubs and I were trying not to laugh and cry at the same time) , “I love you and forgive you.  It’s not okay to kick your sister.  I think the person you need to apologize to is your sister.”  He told her he was sorry and gave her a hug then came and sat with me.

He seemed to be completely healed of his stomach issue.

In a related matter, about 7 minutes later, his sister launched herself over him onto me, ramming his face and she had to tell brother, “sorry”.

It was one of those moments…those moments when 4 years of parenting paid off.  All of the things we have been teaching him came together for a brief moment and we had a glimpse of the godly man we are preparing to change the world.  It made me want to cry.  We know, it’s not all us or what we are doing.  Mr. Eddie has been teaching him some of the same things in Sunday school and everyone knows that sometimes mom’s words go in one ear and out the other but when someone like Mr. Eddie teaches the same thing… it sticks.  Mostly I lecture…Mr. Eddie has all these cool activities.  Seriously, I’m so thankful for our church and children’s department.

And I want to remember my son’s sweet face and big blue eyes as he told me this.  I hope that it was his lack of repentance that was bothering him because I want him to be sensitive to God’s leading.  I hope that when he hurts others it leaves an ache in him.  I hope that will lead him to repentance.

Momlog; 2014 Boys


It’s been a while since I wrote a “Momlog”. My days are super busy now and I’ve discovered that many of the things I’ve thought are “crazy” because they turned my life upside down are really “normal” things for people who have kids. The truth has been revealed…life with kids is crazy. And life with little boys is really strange at times.

Recently I walked into my son’s bedroom and he was spitting on his Nabi (kid’s electronic tablet). I was pretty disgusted and upset because we have been teaching him (or trying to teach him) to take care of his things. I confiscated the tablet. After cleaning it off, I decided to investigate the situation.

It opened my eyes to the life of a 5 1/2 year old boy. I watched all of his videos.  Little kids are extremely self-absorbed and little boys do weird things.  He had several videos of himself…one of him punching the Nabi, jumping on the Nabi, spitting on the Nabi, and several of a Hulk action figure punching the Nabi (that was a popular one).

Since I had already lectured him about taking care of his things and the spitting, I made him a video of me on the Nabi.  Then I waited.

It took him two months to find the video.

Yesterday, he took a video of his babysitter and he found the video I made for him. He thought it was funny. In it, I told him that we do not hit, kick, punch, or spit on our things and I also asked him to please make videos of people other than himself. I need to remember to download the videos before he deletes them as some of them were creative for a 5 year old. He totally doesn’t “get” where the camera is on his devise though…he thinks the camera is the screen I think.

He is growing up so fast.

from this….



to this….



(Mom tearing up a little…sniff…sniff).


Momlog 2014: Puppies and poop


The boy has been begging us for a puppy.  Yes, I have a toddler and a crawler.  In a temporary complete lapse of judgement and a convenient free (free is never free) puppy, we got this guy



Well, I just spent 10 minutes trying to rotate this picture.  When we got him, we thought he was a boxer mix buy my dad thinks he’s a Rhodesian Ridgeback…which looks like this…



So I can see why he thinks that.

In either case…I am now running a zoo.  The boy, almost 6 years old now, is “in charge” of the dog.  I hope he learns some assertiveness but so far the puppy is running the show.  We take him out often however, he has been sneaking off and pooping in the house.  GROSS!

Last night while we were playing Mexican train, he pooped (for the third or fourth time) in the Hubs’ music room.  He was banned from the upstairs when I found poop in my newly painted baby girls’ room.  The Hubs showed the boy how to pick up and clean up the poop.

Sunday mornings are hectic.  The Hubs leaves super early to setup and play the bass.  So I’m on my own.  I get a text around 8:45 (I need to be out the door by 9:20 if I am going to get to church a bit early) from the Hubs that says I need to have the boy pick up the poop in the music room.  I look and it’s a pretty significant pile. I don’t have time to deal with dog crap on Sunday morning!  (This is an appropriate use of the word crap).

After the Boy ate breakfast I told him to pick up the poop.  I called down (I was getting the girls dressed) and asked him what he was doing.  He said that he was cleaning up the poop.  I asked him how…  He should have taking a plastic grocery bag into the music room and using a paper towel, pick up the poop and put in in the bag.  Well, he was carrying the poop to the big trash can (across the house).  I yelled (sometimes there is yelling) to him to get a grocery bag the way daddy taught him.

When I came down he was rubbing some type of cleaner into the carpet.  I told him to go wash his hands we had to go.

We get loaded up and the drive to church was pretty uneventful.  I was reminding him he needed to use grocery bag, etc.

As we pull into the parking lot he says, “I am going to have to walk on my toes.”  (Every mom knows there is some reason to ask)  So I ask him, “Why do you need to walk on your toes?”  He answered, “Because I stepped in the poop.”  (My eyes almost popped out of my head)  “WHAT??”  You walked in my truck with poop on your feet?”  I checked it out.  There was so poop on the shoe.  I wiped it on the underneath of the running board.

Unfortunately, I forgot to to tell him NOT to put the shoes back into the box with all the other shoes.  He’s breaking me, y’all.  In the past I would have marched up removed those shoes, cleaned out the whole box…but I just couldn’t muster the energy to care.  Just another reason the babies aren’t allowed to chew on shoes.

Momlog 2014: Murphy’s Law


Well, last week, right before we were heading to the “Big D” (Southlake/Ft. Worth really) our washing machine broke.  Not sure what the issue is.  The washer is about 10 years old and it’s small for a household of 7.  In other words, I’ve been wanting one of those low water/high capacity washers but the timing was not great.  I’m a trooper and we hung out and washed two loads at my mom’s house.  Unfortunately, we cannot replace the washer right away.  Fortunately, my brother-in-law has one in storage that we can use until we can get what we ant.  Unfortunately, the Hubs hasn’t had time to move the washers around and get the new one in.

We have been without a washer for 5 days.  I do laundry almost every day.  The dirty laundry is stacking up.

Did I mention that my kindergartner wet his bed last night?

One of our girls has had a bout of diarrhea and severe diaper rash.  I thought it was due to cutting a tooth.  She has had this issue every time she cuts a tooth.

Unfortunately, I might have been wrong about the cause of the diarrhea.  Which I found out this morning when I discovered our other baby girl with poop all over herself and her crib and her bedding and several items in her bed.

I ended up putting her in the bathtub and then all the bedding (after spaying it with laundry stain remover) into a trash bag until I could get it washed.

I will refrain from going into what happened after breakfast…it involved throwing up.

Two outfits later…more dirt laundry…

The timing couldn’t be worse…

My sister-in-law says, “It’s Murphy’s law”.  I responded, “I don’t believe in Murphy…it’s the devil.”

Thankfully, my brother-in-law decided to head to the laundromat and offered to wash the bedding.  So at least it won’t be sitting there until we can get it washed.  And thankfully, I have two sets of sheets for every bed in this house,  which I recognize is a luxury, so I was able to change out the bedding right away because I had the clean items I needed.  (Also, thankful to my sister who also believes in having multiple sheets and who gave me the bedding for my girls’ cribs…praise God!)

Everything has been Lysoled and wiped down.  Hopefully, this will pass soon.

I’m praying!

Momlog 2013: I’ll give you a hint


Four is a fun age.  Right?  (Just say “yes” so I don’t have to think about the fact that The Boy lied to me again about brushing his teeth). The Boy has gotten into playing “I Spy” as we drive down the road.  My niece has been playing this game for a year but he has really gotten into it recently.  It’s funny for several reasons.  First of all, our subdivision is kind of in the middle of a bunch of cow pastures.  Have you ever played “I spy” on a road with nothing but trees, grass, maybe a pond and/or a water tower?  There isn’t very much to “spy”.

The “spier’s” turn always starts with, “I spy with my little eyes…”  (That’s all my sister, Judy and my niece, Ellie).  Since he is still young and doesn’t always get the hint, I have incorporated saying things like, “I spy something tall” or “I spy something with stripes” or if he doesn’t guess right the first time I will give him hints.  Yes, we allow multiple guesses in our version…that’s all over when he turns 6 then it’s one guess only.  For example, if “I spy something” outside of the vehicle, I will say “I’ll give you a hint…it is outside”.  Or I will tell him which side it is on or if it is tall or short or wet or moving, etc.

When the boy is the “spier” he sometimes forgets what he “spied” and will just throw something out there when you guess.  One thing is certain, he hasn’t quiet figured out what a “hint” is.  If I don’t guess on the first try, he says, “I’ll give you a hint…” and then he tells me what he spied.  Ever time.  We have explained that a hint should only give a little more information but every time he reveals.

It is adorable because of the way he drawls out , “I’ll give you a hint…”  And the Hubs and I both say, “Don’t tell me yet” but he always does.  He thinks he is giving a hint but really he is giving away the game.

Having explained the game…

I spy with my little eyes something tiny and pink and five days old….

I’ll give you hint…it’s a girl.



Momlog 2013: I cannot tell a lie


This is going to be a quick post so hopefully my writing will be up to par.

Last week I went to visit my sister out in west Texas.  (Not the city, the region).  One day for lunch we took the kids out to eat.  My son has speed issues…as in he is (as we say down here in Texas) “as slow as molasses” (which means, he’s really slow).  He’s slow at everything.  I believe God placed him in my life to slow me down because I have one speed and that is fast forward.  When it comes to eating, I expect him to eat his food, whatever I give him.  I believe in good food.  I don’t eat food that I don’t like and I don’t make him eat food that I don’t like.  As far as eating different kinds of food, he is good. He likes salad, veggies, spicy foods…he is a pretty adventurous eater.  But he is slow.  We had taken the kids and met up with my brother-in-law for lunch.  He had chicken strips…a standard “kid friendly” food.  They were good.  I tasted them.  Long after everyone else had finished eating he was still just plugging along and it slow pace.  I was trying to speed him up.  I told my sister I was going to the bathroom and then I told him he needed to finish up by the time I returned.

I took my time.

When I came out of the ladies room, my 7 year old nephew, Sam was standing right outside the bathroom door.  He immediately told me, “My mom asked the Boy if he was full and he said yes so she took his chicken strip and put it in the trash pile.”

I was a little confused by this little confession.

I walked back over and asked my sister, who was shocked that her son would tattle on her.  She said she was bonding with my son by allowing him to “get away” with something she wouldn’t allow.

It was funny.

Sam cannot keep a secret and he cannot tell a lie.

He will rat you out to your big sister every time.  I’m thankful to be in a family that raises truth speakers!  Now if only our Boy will learn to tell the truth.