Delectable Thought

No, I've not turned into the Incredible Hulk. I love these toe socks for running. They keep my feet from rubbing together causing major blisters. I found these jewels on Amazon for cheap! I like cheap running toe socks better than toe socks. (But not better than cake!) I went to the bathroom today. I shut the door. This is what happened. Apparently my "bath rooming" is great entertainment for him to want to be in there so badly.  Today, this guy just wants to be by himself. This is highly unusual, so I fear a sickness or such may be on it's way, or another growth spurt.  He asked to be naked today. Not very naked, just a little naked. He cracks me up!     My hottie husband is home, so all is right in our sphere of the universe and I'm off the single mom status.       Hope you all have a great weekend!

Dressing boys is about as fun as losing toenails. I do both of those things. I usually go for casual/play most days, which translates to "I don't care if you get your clothes so dirty I can't get the stains out!" But for those occasions we venture into public, I go for a "Let's make the baby loom like a smaller version of dad." But then I'm gifted with gems like the outfit in the picture and dressing boys becomes fun! This shirt brings me so much happiness and bumps the cuteness factor up by at least a thousand percent! I hope it makes you as happy as me! You can't go wrong with the "thumbs up/down." Good grief that's cute!! Enjoy your Thursday!

My boys like to whomp and by whomp I mean they like to rough house. Their dad is the official whomper. I take no part in it. But Dad's been gone for over a week now and the boys were crazy for a whomping. I found this out the hard way when little sweet James tackled me when I made the mistake of sitting in the floor. And then John Owen joined in and I was being whomped. I quickly cried "uncle" and ran for cover in the kitchen.  I succeeded in making the ugliest cupcakes known to man today. Check out the picture below. They were undoubtedly ugly, but man were they good. I may or may not have eaten two or three. It's really hard for me to tell because I usually eat almost all of it and then throw some of it away so I don't have to count it as a whole one. Psycho, I know! I do have some good-looking boys though. The proof is below.  Good-night friends!   Yes, that's blue cake with poop brown frosting.  Good-looking boy #1 Good-looking boy #2

I've had a few epiphanies lately. One is that I'm an exaggerator. I big one. (I'm not exaggerating there.) I'm addicted to funny and like to tell stories in such a way to elicit a laugh or two or three. My last three posts are evidence of this issue. I hope you laugh and don't take me so seriously. I realize I could seem quite crazy. (But isn't everyone a little crazy?) Secondly, I epiphanied (this isn't a word, but it sounds funnier than "realized") something about sweet baby James. I'm apparently stupid or didn't really pay attention when I was reading all those adoption books because I feel this is something I should have figured out a while ago, but it took a friend who's also adopted just telling me her "first year home" experience to epiphany this. Are you ready for it?!! James struggles with insecurity. No brainer I know, but sometimes and by sometimes I really mean a lot of the time, I forget. Yep, I forget that he...

Sometimes I have these surreal experiences. They are really almost like out of body experiences. I'm standing outside of myself watching the situation unfold before me. I had one of those today. I had the bright idea that I'd take John Owen to Lexington to be fitted for the suit he's going to wear as ringbearer in a friend's wedding. Of course I did all the right things beforehand. I had a precious conversation with my little angel about what was expected of him and how he should act and how I understood that he might be nervous  or even a little afraid of some strange person taking his measurements, but this was something that we needed to do.  I even offered a great "incentive"/"bribe" for good behavior. We'd passed a cupcake store that was right next to a Starbucks and I felt I'd won the lottery. I envisioned this great mother/son date (you those things I read about happening in other people's blogs, but have never really experienced ...

Butts. I wipe my share of them everyday and I only have two boys. I'm sure wiping boys' butts are easier than girls because it's quick. Boys (at least mine) don't care how clean their butts are. A few swipes with the "wipey" or toilet paper or both if needed and off they go. James never cares if his butt gets wiped. He actually hates it and by hate, I mean loathes it. He's comfortable in a dirty diaper apparently. It's not unusual to hear Zack (he usually takes dirty diaper duty (the pun is intended)) say, "Stop crying James. I'm the one who should be crying." Hysterical...and true.  Another favorite is when he says, "One day you'll have to wipe my butt." Equally funny and most likely true. John Owen is a little more complicated. He's almost four (Don't judge me if your two year old is already reading and tying his own shoes) and he can be heard throughout the house or probably outside yelling, "I need my but...

Boogers are a constant part of my life. They're like a third child who doesn't say much and stays mostly hidden until we're in public and people want to talk to my boys. Then, well then the boogers show up. James' nose is the biggest contributor, but John Owen can hold his own in this booger fest that we have going on over here. Today, my friend, Lee Ann and I ran the Capital Stampede 10k downtown. We're training for a half-marathon in September and hit this race up for a nice change from our routine of running ridiculously early in the morning before most of you have even hit a good REM sleep cycle. We did really well and raced across the finish line to PR. I walked over to my little family of Zack, John Owen and James and yes, you guessed the boogers. Of course no one had a tissue, so James' booger, my third child just hung out (literally) with us while we cooled off and watched the rest of the finishers. John Owen sat in the stroller with his knees in his c...

Just like there are many orphans in the world, there are many books about orphans, how to help orphans, how to adopt orphans, how to parent an adopted child. I've read a lot of them and they've been helpful and informative, but none have fully covered the issue of the Orphan and God's command of His people like Johnny Carr's Orphan Justice . This book goes beyond the standard book about adoption and encompasses what it means to move beyond the idea that caring for the orphan equals entering the adoption process. When we think of orphan care only in terms of adoption, we tend to shy away from doing anything because we don't feel led to adopt, we already have many children, or feel overwhelmed by the idea of grafting a person into our families. Carr removes this excuse from every believer in his book. He covers many topics including adoption, but goes so far beyond adoption that it truly is a book about caring for the orphan. His statistics are staggering and convict...

Sometimes (or a lot of times) we don't hear what a person said. I don't mean that he/she didn't speak loudly enough or some other noise kept us from hearing clearly. I mean they say something and by the time it makes it through all of our "stuff", our past experiences, our hurts, our fears, we hear something different. Maybe someone says "I can't meet you for dinner" or "I can't come to your party". We may hear "You aren't a priority so I'm not meeting your for dinner" or so on. We've all got our "stuff" that we filter every experience through. That's just what our pasts do for us--a special gift if you will. That explains my James. He's got a small past that's a big ole whopping past and he filters all of these new experience through that past. It's all he knows right now. We can mature and grow and begin to understand that we can't filter new experiences through our old ones. We can...