Will You Follow Me?? Because I’m Moving….

10 Oct

So, I bit the bullet. I bought a domain name. And, I’m moving. I hope you’ll follow. WordPress support is going to help me move my internal followers, (although I’m not entirely sure it works)….so, just to be safe, head on over to Perfection Pending. I love the new name, still the same vibe, but a more positive spin. Don’t you think? And hopefully all those creepsters won’t find me as quickly with the name faking taken out of the title.¬†

The wordpress.com community has been amazing. So, I will miss that part of it. In fact, I can no longer be freshly pressed.ūüė¶ Which makes me terribly sad to see that cute blue logo go. Something I am still so proud of. But, I doubt I would have ever been FP’d twice.¬†

It’s still a work in progress as far as the design and everything, but hang in there. It’s tricky figuring out all of this on my own! I have to change like a bazillion websites to get it all switched over, but none of that really matters as long as you’ll follow.¬†

I am so grateful for all of the support I’ve gotten from all of you. It means the world. :)¬†

It’s OK. Admit It. You will Never Sleep Through the Night Again.

9 Oct

At 6:45 am, I hear a shrill MOOOOMMY! I sit up in bed, and start making my way to the boys’ room when I hear it again. More panicked sounding. I break out into a run down the hall as I imagined, puking, stabbings, or attempted kidnappings. I tore open the door and said, “What’s wrong!!???” expecting the worst.

K replied, “I need a kleenex.” The box was on the floor right next to his bed.

Real life parenting moment right there.  Needless to say, I gave him his kleenex, went back to bed for a minute to let my heart rate return to a normal rate, and just as I drifted off to sleep again, my alarm went off.

I wonder when, or if, all three of my kids will ever sleep through the night? I have my doubts.

The truth is, the elusive “sleeping through the night” that we are all searching for must be a big fat joke. Or maybe it’s a parenting conspiracy created by those who want the human race to continue. Because, really, if you were told, “You will never sleep all the way through the night ever, EVER, and I mean EVER again” I think 2/3 of parents would drop out.

For those of you that have one kid, this probably doesn’t apply. Because I think that if you have one, eventually, they will sleep through the night during those pre-teen years, and so will you. That is if you aren’t too worried about them making a YouTube video that will destroy their future in their bedroom while you sleep. But, for one kid wonders, maybe you get to sleep at some point. I’m not convinced of that, either.


I love this kid. It’s like he’s sleeping defiantly. “Fine. If I have to.”


Sure, those first sleepless days are blissful when you bring a newborn home, but eventually, you want to move on with life. You know, things like taking a shower, or eating something other than the cold mac and cheese your toddler refused to eat. Going to the grocery store seems like a huge feat.

And, then at some point, you go to the grocery store for the first time, and maybe your baby has a ¬†miraculous night or three at around 4 months, and you exclaim, “She slept through the night!” Only to realize that the waking up in the middle of the night isn’t “just a phase” as other parents would like you to believe. The sleeping through the night is the just a phase part. And it usually only happens in very small phases. Like, teeny tiny ones. Just enough to make you believe that you have finally turned a parenting corner, and you are starting to feel normal again getting 6 consecutive hours of sleep, and then bam! Teeth, or illness, or rolling over starts, and you are back to square. freaking. one. But, you are too embarrassed to admit it because you already told everyone that Jr. sleeps through the night. It’s OK. No one with kids really believes you anyway.

But you comfort yourself in a friend’s kind words (that are also a lie) because you desperately need something to look forward to. “Oh, my baby didn’t sleep until she was 18 months old. So, just hang in there. It will happen.” I’ve even said this to people. I’m sorry.

Sure, it’s true, that at around 18 months, both of my boys started sleeping better. I started to feel like a normal human that could get into a routine, and have real conversations where I didn’t zone out in the middle, dreaming of a nap. But, what I didn’t tell you is that really, the sleeping through the night still only happens about half the time. It’s always something. Especially if you have more than one child.

As soon as one starts sleeping through the night, the other one starts having bad dreams. And, as soon as she is over her bad dreams, the next one will only sleep if his favorite lovey is tucked under his arm. If it comes loose, you will be summoned from that amazing dream you were having about eating a hot dinner, alone, on a deserted island. And, as soon as he is over his lovey, the next one gets a cold, and then when that cold passes, the other kid will be too hot and be too scared to kick his own covers off his own cute little feet. It sounds like I have twenty children. I only have three.

If my calculations are right, about the time my youngest hits puberty and doesn’t want anything to do with me, and wants to sleep all the time (please tell me this will happen), I will have 18 years of sleepless nights under my belt, and I’m assuming, won’t be able to sleep anyway because I will have an 18 year old daughter.

So, parents? I think it’s time to unite. Admit that parenting means we will never sleep completely through the night again. Why can’t we just admit it!!??

It’s OK. I won’t shun you. In fact, I am a member of a new generation of moms that is admitting that sometimes this is hard despite judgment, ridicule, and name-calling from others that want to paint the pretty picture all the time and tell us to enjoy every second. And, I will say that I am happy to speak the truth. It’s the only way for me. And, when I’m old and gray, I am willing my brain to remember how hard this parenting gig is. So I can take that young mom’s hand and say, “I know it sucks, but you will get there. One day. Can I buy your groceries?”

I’m willing my brain, I tell you. That is if it has any cells left from the years of sleepless nights. So, again, I promise, but I can’t guarantee.

But, what keeps me going? The tiny little miracles in everyday. We’ve all had them. We’ve all watched our kids do something SO adorable that we forget all the hard, sleepless nights for a quick second and experience joy.¬†¬†Pure parenting joy. And, in some screwed up way, sleep doesn’t seem that important anymore.

Update: No I still haven’t sleep through the night, but my husband sent me this text after reading my post, “how about a hot date this Friday with a hot dinner on a deserted island? Sorry I’m not invited, I’ll be filling up Avery’s water cup” I love that man. At least we’re in it together.

8 Pins that I recommend

8 Oct

Hey friends. So, I have a love/hate relationship with pinterest. But, lately, I’m loving it again. For a while, I was hating it because it made me feel like a loser that only pinned and never did anything with those pins. But, lately, I’ve found the joy in pinning again. And, as I scrolled through my pins, I realized that I’ve actually done more than I realized. So, there. I’m not a loser after all.

So, I thought I’d share with you some of my Pins that are actually winners.

First, food. That should always be first if you ask me.

I made this recipe. Cheesy Broccoli Quinoa. It was DELICIOUS. About 75% of the recipes I pin have quinoa in them. It’s kind of weird. But, the idea of making Quinoa always sounds good, but sometimes, it seems complicated. Not this recipe. My oldest actually ate it and asked for seconds, and she doesn’t even like quinoa. Really though, if you put cheddar cheese in anything doesn’t it taste good? Anyway, this one is a winner, for sure.

Next, I have a second weird obsession with finding the perfect sugar cookie. I’m not even a huge fan of sugar cookies, until I bake them and then I want to eat all of them. In general, give me a piece of chocolate over a sugar cookie any day. Yet, if a pin says it is the “best sugar cookie recipe ever!” I have to pin it. I’ve tried two. The first one was OK. Some sugar cookie bar recipe. But, the second one. The Swig Sugar Cookie Knockoff Recipe from Vintage Revivals. Ooooh. It was yummy. So much so that I had to eat one for every meal. After a few days of eating them, we realized the best part was the frosting part of the recipe. I also liked this recipe because there was no rolling out of dough. I hate recipes like that. This one was just roll into a ball and smash with a glass, and it worked nicely. They were pretty as well as yummy. Especially that dang sour cream icing. Which was better the second day. So, maybe make it a day in advance?

I also love a good recipe that is a one-pot recipe with staple foods I usually always have on hand. The One Pot Wonder Tomato Basil Pasta Recipe from Apron Strings was just perfect. It was easy, fast, and everyone in the family ate it. ALWAYS a bonus. I need to have more fresh basil laying around though.

I am actually proud to say that a LOT of my recipes in my Recipes to Try board, I’ve tried. Some have been OK, but if it’s not a crowd pleaser to the whole crowd that resides in my house, I usually don’t keep it around. Like, the crock pot Pasta Fagioli copycat recipe from Olive Garden got an OK vote. But, the Zuppa Toscana one? It’s delicious and we eat it all the time. Super easy too.

There is one going around that has been pinned like a billion times, and it is a Chicken cream Cheesy crockpot recipe with just a few ingredients. I do not recommend. Kind of bland if you ask me. At least, 3 out of 5 of my family members didn’t want to eat it. I won’t point fingers. But, I’m hoping the Teriyaki Chicken one I have in my crockpot right now is going to be yummy. We’ll see.

See people, you really should be following me on Pinterest. If you aren’t, you can find me here.

Now, when I look at my “For the Home” board, I might start to feel like a loser again. Because, I guess apparently, I like to cook more than I like DIY projects.


But, my last one went so well, I’m thinking maybe I need to do more?? But, here is one that I did a long time ago and forgot about. A FREE printable of any letter in the alphabet to create your own banners. I used it to spell out the baby’s name in cute letters above his crib. A lot cheaper than buying wooden ones. It works, and it’s an easy project to use for Halloween or Christmas, or whatever!

I also have an organization board, because in my mind, I’m a really organized person. In reality, I could use a little help. One thing I did do was hang my kids’ toys in the bathtub with cheap dollar store baskets. An idea I found on pinterest.

And cleaning? Well, I have tried two things in that department too. First, I cleaned my stove burners with this idea of sealing them in a bag of ammonia for hours. It worked. So did this idea of using vinegar to clean your microwave. I usually spray chemicals in there and then worry that the next thing I cook afterward is going to have Lysol spray infused in it surely giving me cancer, but when you just use vinegar and water? The worry is gone. You’re welcome.

I hope you’ll see that I actually do follow through with some of my relentless pinning. And, come over and follow me. You know you want to.

Tips for Taking Family Photos Yourself. (Or What NOT to Do)

7 Oct



This past week, my husband suggested that over the weekend, we go for a drive in the ¬†mountains. I casually threw in there, “OK, but if we do that, we all have to be dressed cute in case I want to take any family photos.” To my shock, he agreed. ¬†Little did he know by “cute” I meant coordinating, and by coordinating, I was imagining us all dressed to perfection in fall outfits casually strolling through the aspen trees and having an amazing shot worthy of pinterest.

That did not happen.

For one, we have yet to ever hire a professional photographer. Maybe it’s because we are too cheap, but the truth is, we are poor. Which is basically the same thing. And, no we aren’t really poor, but too poor to spend a lot on family photos by a photographer. Maybe next year.

However, I am happy with some of the shots we got. Eventually. If you angle them just the right way.ūüėČ

But, in all seriousness, I was able to scrounge up some things at the last minute that semi-coordinated, and I told my husband to be prepared to take pictures. He was a good sport. He even put jeans on for me. Which, knowing my husband, says a LOT. And he brought the tripod. So, my hopes were high.

Five minutes into the trip, my kids start asking if we are there yet. I think they missed the part that when you go on a drive, there really is no “there”. You’re just driving. When we tried to explain this to them, they still didn’t really get it were not too happy as you can imagine. Then, there was the, “I’m hungry” or “I’m thirsty” every other five minutes. So, yeah, that was fun. And, since we aren’t allowed to own a mini-van, the kids were all crammed on top of each other in his small SUV. All in a row. With the ability to kick each other, and breathe in each other’s direction. Not good considering we are planning a long trip in the car soon, and we couldn’t even make it 30 minutes away without complaining. I was already feeling claustrophobic myself.

So, by the time we actually did get out of the car, someone had to pee. And, let me tell you, it was not one of the kids. Which sucks, because I swore off peeing in the woods a long time ago. Yet, I knew that I would be extremely miserable for the rest of the time, and we hadn’t even taken a single photo yet. So, I did it, and I survived. Soon after, we were on our way again to scout out a place for photos. 30 minutes later, we found a spot. In some beautiful aspens. And, while we were not strolling leisurely with a paid professional taking the shots, we did manage to set up the tripod on some wet leaves, and use the timer. Which my youngest thought was actually entertaining. He’s the one I worried about most. Trying to get an almost 2 year old to sit still and look at a camera is near impossible, but that blinking red light helped.

Little did I know it was the four-year-old I had to worry about.

Just when we thought we were done, I looked at the 10 or so photos we had taken while the kids were walking to the car. The last three were the best. Except for my four-year-old. In one, he had his mouth wide open (although kind of smiling), the next one? tongue sticking out. And, the last one? Rolling. His. Eyes.

So, I demanded told everyone to take their places again (which was not a very welcomed idea) and I took 3 more.

None of which were spectacular.

But, the truth is, it’s killing me that I’m not going to share the photos with you, because they are downright hilarious. And, like many of my friends pointed out when they saw them was that they do show his personality perfectly. And, they do. And, although I was disappointed at first, I kind of love them now.

So, how do you take the “perfect” family photo? I can tell you what not to do.

Don’t have very high expectations.

Don’t expect that clothes will be free of grass stains, or food you had to feed them in the car, or mud when they fall down in wet leaves, if you dress your kids 30 minutes beforehand.

Don’t imagine a pinterest spread titled, “The perfect family photo shoot”.

Don’t think your kids will have fun.

Don’t think that someone will be able to hold it when traveling to remote areas.

Instead, be realistic. Your husband will cut you off at some point. When the kids are shivering without their coats on and there’s snow on the ground. (I mean, that didn’t happen to us. I’m just using it as an example.)

My biggest piece of advice if you want to take your own family photos?

Just go with it. Whatever you get is probably pretty darn close to reality in the first place, and it’s much more fun to look at reality than the ones where everyone looks perfect. Don’t you think?

At least that’s what I’m telling myself.

I’m SORRY for all the emails!! Please don’t unfollow!

4 Oct

For those of you who subscribe via email, you may or may not have received a million emails from me today. 

Ummm. Yeah, even after 6 years of blogging, I’m still learning. :/¬†

I am working out some kinks on the blog (obviously). I won’t bother explaining what I did to cause the hiccup, but just please believe me that I did NOT mean to do THAT.¬†

And, a thank you to my Dad who called me to complain tell me about my mistake. 

Please don’t unfollow me!!¬†


Decisions, Decisions….Help Me!

4 Oct

So, this will be one of those cryptic blog posts where I speak in very vague, annoying sentences kind of like those annoying FB statuses you hate of that one friend who is always annoying and vague. ¬†Aren’t you excited?

I have a big decision to make. About this blog. I may go private, I may start a new one, I may do neither or those things or both of them. But, I’ve been stewing over this for quite a while. And, I just need opinions.

And, here’s the vague part:

I’m not going to go into great detail about what is sparking all of this, but it has to do with LOTS of factors. ¬†Ones that are from real-life experiences, and ones that might be made up in the overly paranoid part of my head. We don’t need to analyze that though, do we? But, what I DO need your help with is deciding some things. So, if you are a loyal reader/follower (there are supposedly 500+ of you) but are hiding in the shadows, now is the time to speak up!!!

SO, I have some questions:

If I were to start a new blog, would you follow me there?

Would you still love my blog if I no longer shared personal photos??

Do you like the name of my blog currently?

Any suggestions on a NEW name if I decide to change it?

I hate making tough decisions. It’s just too dang hard.

At least I don’t have to make any decisions based on THIS information:



Any feedback is greatly appreciated. Have a good weekend!

I’ll be watching our semi-annual General conference this weekend. You can too if you want.

Come listen to living prophets

Even rappers like LL Cool J, and P-Diddy have been known to tweet out quotes from our church leaders. Happy Friday!

I Discovered the Key to Getting My Kid to Eat

2 Oct

Feeding my kids has never been my favorite chore parental responsibility.  And, with every child, there has been a challenge of some sort in the eating department.

Cute little Avery used to store food in her cheeks for what seemed like hours. It was probably just minutes. But, with those fat, chubby cheeks she had, I was never sure if she had food in there or not. Then, I would realize I over-stuffed those cheeks, and it would all come spilling out.

©fakingpictureperfectmonth12 019

I’m pretty sure in this picture it was just on her face. True first kid love right there. I was so caught up in the feeding her organic only, and non-sugary foods, that for her first birthday, she didn’t even know what to do with her cupcake. What is this thing? Guess I’ll face plant into it.

©fakingpictureperfectmonth12 064

With Kyle, well, there was a problem with eating from day one. That evolved into FPIES, and then texture issues. I remember the thrill of the day when we trialed eggs. And he LOVED them. And we had a new food to add to his very restricted diet.


The joy on his face in this picture says it all. And, that joy was only a fraction of the joy I was feeling at the time. It was like he was thinking, “Finally! Eggs. Where have you been all my life?” He still loves them to this day. And, while the first two years of his life were like an extreme sporting event in eating, we survived it. And, for the most part, he is totally normal when it comes to eating. Aside from the occasional episode like in the car the other day when he got grossed out by some peach fuzz on his peach, and I had to toss him a sandwich bag that I luckily had handy while driving down the road so he could gag/spit into it. Glamorous. Enjoy every moment, right?

And, then there was Chandler. Sure, we’ve had a struggle with him and food allergy issues¬†that almost got me committed,¬†but he’s outgrown them all. So, life should be easy right? Wrong. This kid is as much of a mystery to me at each and every meal as any of them were. Was? Are?

I never know if he is going to eat the avocado, or detest it. If he will go for whatever I made the family for dinner that night (chicken pot pie? nope. Lasagna? yes.) or if we will feed him one of his weird meals made special order just for him like a breakfast sausage link, 3 grapes, mizithra cheese rolled up in pepperoni, 6 bites of rice before he decides it’s disgusting, and a string cheese. Oh, and don’t forget the side of taco meat.

Seriously, it’s like he thinks he’s at a Golden Corral and the kitchen is his buffet. “I would like a tiny portion of every. single. item. in the pantry, please” is what he must be thinking. “Oh, and let me try the condiments in the fridge door for good measure”. By the end of dinner, we always say to each other, “Was that a meal?” and usually call it good from sheer exhaustion. Getting up from the table 52 times to “try something else” while also trying to feed two other kids is a monumental task we survive every single night.

I try letting him eat with toothpicks. Cutting things up in special shapes. Giving him stuff that I KNOW he will hate but wants because someone else has it. Drowning his waffle covered in syrup with powdered sugar too. Just to get him to eat. But, yesterday, I may have discovered the secret.


We walk in right before lunch time, and sure enough, it’s sample time. And, I’ve decided that the kid will eat anything if it’s handed to him in a dixie cup with a spork. By a stranger.

He ate yogurt with chunks of fruit in it.

White bean chicken chili

Brown Rice and Quinoa

Grilled Cheese on 7 Grain Bread

Pizza Pockets


Pita Bread with Butter

Today at lunch? we were back to our usual drab meal. No dixie cups. No sporks. No strangers. He wasn’t really in the mood to eat again. But, he had to make sure to lay claim to every single nugget on the plate that I had put in between the two boys. Much to Kyle’s dismay.


Not really eating any of them. You know what this means, don’t you? I will be visiting Costco everyday at 11:30 am. To feed my child lunch.

I know one day, I will look back and smile at this post. But, for now, he’s just my little boy that doesn’t want to eat, unless it’s with a spork in a tiny dixie cup. But, seeing him listening to my iPod (a new obsession of his) gives me a tiny glimpse of that teenager that he will become. I’m sure he will one day eat me out of house and home.


Color Me Happy

1 Oct

So, I’m not much of a DIYer at all. I just don’t have the patience for it really. But the strange thing is that I’m a creative person by nature and I love the idea of the DIY project. I love buying used stuff, but I rarely want to put the time and energy into fixing something up.

Painting? No thank you.

When we bought our first house I had grand plans of doing a lot of painting. Until I painted that first room. After some very tense words between my husband and I after about five strokes of the paint brush, we realized we hated painting. Not good. It was like we became each other’s most hated enemy in the process. It turned us into not very friendly people. It seemed like that project of painting our master bedroom took years off of our lives. It was probably two days. You get my point.

It’s like I get excited about the project and go through stages.

Stage 1: I’m on pinterest. Suddenly, I have a lapse in judgement. “I can do that!” I think to myself. And I start imagining how awesome it will look. I have visions of Martha Stewart-like creations.

Stage 2: Making the list of what I need to buy. “Crap. That’s a lot of stuff.” Just kidding. I don’t make lists. That would be too easy.

Stage 3: Enter the foreign land of a craft store or even worse, a home improvement type establishment. With no list and two to three kids. Can’t wait to shop until husband gets home because he will surely talk me out of project. Wander aisles feeling lost. Keep kids from spray painting each other. Get frustrated. Possibly threaten time out for everyone and in the same breath promise treats. Grab some random stuff without measuring or color coordinating anything. Question what I was doing thinking I could accomplish this impossible feat. Feel like crying, but I am too determined to turn back now. “I will be crafty even if it kills me.” Is a normal thought in this stage.

Stage 4: Go to register and realize you are spending more than the junk you are “fixing up” is even worth. Even brand new. Make a mental note to hide the receipts from your husband.

Stage 5: get started only to be interrupted 523 times in the first ten minutes of craftiness hell and get angry at yourself, your kids, and Martha Stewart. Slap some paint on in the next ten minutes and call it good.

Stage 6: try to sell your “craft” at your next yard sale for $5. Take a buck. Make a mental note to never paint again.

So the fact that I decided to do some painting again is both surprising and astonishing.

I decided to make a kids’ art display wall. And frankly, I love how this project turned out so much that I might get up in the middle of the night to look at it.

Since I’m not much of a tutorial gal either, I will do my best to tell you what I did. (Aside from the usual stages mentioned above)
I bought frames at a thrift store, letter blocks and paint at a craft store and went to town. I love bright colors and so this was a fun way to spruce up my dream kitchen/dining room wall. It’s a combination of three different pinterest ideas.



I just love this picture of my kiddos. And since this wall is all about their art they bring home, I figured it was only fitting. I matted the picture with some scrapbooking paper I had lying around.


The picture on the bottom right was a kids drawing already framed that I bought just like that at the thrift store. I love it.


This picture below was a family portrait drawn recently by my Kyle. It’s pretty much amazing. He said we are all wearing sunglasses. Love it.


My favorite part. The title.



Now this part was fun. I found a small bulletin board at the thrift shop and painted the cork black and the frame green. Love how this turned out for a quick spot to tack some art up with a good old fashioned thumb tack. The guy pictured here is also a drawing by Kyle of a guy he named Mike.


I really couldn’t be happier with how it turned out and as you can see, I have some spots waiting for some future masterpieces. Avery is a super good little artist so I’m already asking her to draw me something. It’s a happy inspiring, bright space on my wall, and it makes me happy. If I can do this, trust me, so can you!


Now tell me how awesome I am.

Not Texan Enough

30 Sep

If you watch old home movies of me as a kid, you probably wouldn’t believe it was me. Not because I look that different (aside from the horrible perm of the late 80’s) but because of how I talked back then.

I used to talk like a Texan. An East Texan at that. Watch this for a funny, yet true, explanation of how even all Texans aren’t the same.

I remember when my parents decided to move to Georgia. I was mad. I planned on living and dying in Texas. After all, somewhere along the way, a great sense of Texas pride had been instilled in me. No, I don’t remember my Daddy sitting me down and telling me that Texas was the best place in the universe, but I sure as heck believed it. With all my heart. As do most Texans. It’s the norm for your average citizen to fly a state flag right alongside the American flag. Weird? Not in Texas.



So, when they decided to move out of Texas, it was like a betrayal of sorts. Just blogging about Texas is making me sound a little more Texas again. Don’t ya’ll think?

I thought many things I said and did were what the whole world said and did. That is until I moved out of Texas. Sure, there was the girl that moved to my small little town in TX when I was in middle school and informed me that not everyone in the world said, “fixin’ to” when I got the first hint that maybe things were a little different in Texas, but I still had no desire to go anywhere else. Ever.

But, when my parents moved, I eventually did too (long story there). ¬†I lived in GA (which isn’t all that different from TX) for a few short months before I moved to California to become a full-time missionary for my church. For 18-months, I spoke another language entirely, so it was easy to let go of that southern drawl a little. I’m not sure if I was trying to or not. I don’t remember ever making a conscious decision to stop my southern accent, but somewhere between moving out of TX, and speaking a foreign language, it began to happen.

After California, I moved to UT. Then Philadelphia. Back to Georgia, and now, back to UT. So, I’ve been away from my Texas for a long time. 17 years to be exact. I’ve learned to love something about every place I’ve lived, but I believe that for now, UT is where I will live my life. I won’t swear that I will die here, because you never know what lies ahead, but I know for now, it’s home.

Sometimes though, I wonder if I’m not being me because somewhere along the way I dropped that accent, stopped eating red meat, and have no desire to touch a gun again in my life if I can help it. (Sorry Dad) Yesterday, two people accused me (jokingly of course) of not truly being a Texan. It hurt. They aren’t the only ones who’ve made that accusation. One was because I no longer had an accent, and the other was because I hinted at the fact that I didn’t want my little boys playing with guns. “How Texan are you?” the accuser joked.

Had I forgotten my roots? Does my Dad want to disown me because I don’t eat red meat? Both questions I’ve asked myself.

But, the truth is, I haven’t forgotten. And, just because my accent has forgotten a little, doesn’t mean my heart has.

You see, despite the horrible humidity that turns me into a crazy person, I think of Texas, and all the people I love that are in it, and I can’t help but think that my heart will always be there to some extent. It doesn’t matter if I don’t ever say “fixin’ to” again, or if I never eat a steak, Texas is a part of me, and always will be.

I feel sad sometimes that my kids won’t know a “real” thunderstorm, or may never learn how to bait their own hook with a live cricket all for the joy of fishing. They may not ever catch fireflies either. But, their memories will be just as good. They will grow up skiing, and snow-shoeing, and roasting marshmallows in the canyons at night. They will also never have to suffer through an August in Texas. They will think those giant mountains, that I never could take for granted, are just what everyone sees out their bedroom window, and they will one day be shocked to learn that in some places, it doesn’t snow.

Part of me feels guilty, for not being “Texan” enough. But, that’s just silly. I’m who I am because I grew up in TX, and that will never leave me. Even if the accent does.

I will always believe that Texas has the best mexican food around, and pine trees are beautiful, and you haven’t really lived until you’ve tried Blue Bell ice cream. I will always miss hearing my Grandma say, “Over yonder” and will wish I could sit and play spades with my other Grandma like we used to every Sunday. I won’t regret wearing a mum in high school, even though now I know they really are kind of ridiculous. Although, I do love a good tradition.


That’s me in the middle. If you can see me behind the mum

And, I will always always miss the southern hospitality that I have yet to find anywhere else. It’s called manners, people.

But, I’ve realized that I don’t need to move back to Texas to find the girl I once was. She’ll always be here. My husband makes fun of my accent every once in a while when I get really excited about something. So, she’s still in there. Don’t y’all worry your pretty little heads one bit. Because I don’t.

Gun Control. A Battle with a Four-Year-Old

27 Sep

Within 5 minutes of having a toy gun in our house, we have an injury.


I swore that I would never have toy guns for my boys. In fact, I don’t even allow them to talk about “killing” each other while they’re playing. As much as I attempt to control that, I still hear, “I’m going to kill you” when the game gets really intense. I do my best to drill in how what they are saying is NOT OK, yet, it still keeps happening. I think of myself as pretty strict when it comes to what they watch, and what they play. So, I can’t blame it on the fact that they’re learning this from Bubble guppies or something. But, at the same time, I’m left to wonder if it’s not just part of a boy growing up. They learn it from somewhere, even if it’s not my own home. But, please, can’t I at least have gun control in my own home?

The truth is, you can’t control it. The proof is in the fact that I recently blogged about how my four year old was pointing his “finger gun” at the audience he was sitting in front of. At church. The kid is resourceful. I’ll give him that.

But, my Mom sent the toy gun in a package today. Innocent enough, right? I saw my four year old’s eyes light up within seconds of hearing the fake, “pop, pop” when I pulled the trigger to see what it would do. Then, he promptly pistol whipped his little brother. OK, I’m exaggerating, but there is a welt below his left eye. The four year old said, “I just put the gun up to his face, and it was an accident”.


Bad picture. It’s hard to get a 22 month old to sit still

I took it away for the rest of the day. And, we’ve had it five minutes.

I’ve had some leniency with water guns, but they are kept outside. Yet, the light saber gets a free pass. And, a toy sword? We have that too. Not logical, I know. But, it makes sense to me. Guns just are not what I want my little innocent boys playing with right now. Sadly, they’ll learn about them soon enough in this scary world we live in.

He has been crying, begging, and pleading for the past 15 minutes since I took it away. It’s like since he KNOWS I don’t like them, it’s what his little heart so desperately desires.

Maybe it will have an accident like this little guy that my Mom also sent. A true wind up cowboy that crawls along the ground on his belly hunting with his gun. Where does she find these things?


Sadly, he lost his head in a tragic accident involving a four year old who wanted to play with a gun so much that he flung himself to the ground crying, and thus, killed a cowboy.


RIP Cowboy. Oh, the irony.

%d bloggers like this: