A new twist on the traditional first birthday

Kid Three is ONE today! That makes me a little sad for a couple of reasons.

1. My baby is growing up and he could be the last baby in this house. could be, I said. Who knows.

2. I've had PLENTY of time to whip my abs into shape but I've squandered 12 months with weak attempts at the gym.

Moving on.

So, Kid Three is one and we're celebrating by having a Time Capsule Birthday! On Saturday, our family will join us for the traditional "smash cake" event and some food. We've asked everyone to bring a gift for Kid Three's SIXTEENTH birthday! That's right, we're going to party like it's 2023. (Let's see Prince sing that.)

I'm really crossing my fingers someone will write an IOU for a car or his college tuition or maybe just a pile of gold - since our cash might not be worth anything by then! yikes!

When Kid Three was born, I bought the Foxy Mr a watch and had "Daddy, 10/30/07" engraved on the clasp. Our contribution to the time capsule is a matching watch with "Son, 10/30/23" on the clasp.

Kid One and Two are making CDs of their favorite songs and also including some favorite books in the stash. I can't wait to see what other people are bringing!

Any other ideas for the Time Capsule Birthday box?

Oh, and it's good to back in Blog World. Welcome home to me.

Control Freak Goes to the Beach

I'm a control freak.

And for the next six days I'm going to try and control my need to control.

,,,

At 5am on Wednesday the Mr and I are walking out this door with our suitcases in tow -- headed for 5 nights of magic. Well, maybe not magic but I know it won't involve macaroni and cheese or peanut butter and jelly. Enough about that.

,,,

It takes a lot of work to get everyone ready to carry on without me. I've spent the last 3 days organizing, charting, listing, folding, cleaning, and preparing -- all in an effort to control life here in OK while I am exposing my skin to the deathly rays of el sol. Can't wait.

,,,

Checks are written for the sitters.

Daily checklists for the boys are taped to the refrigerator.

Eggs are scrambled and cut up for Kid Three's breakfast.

Thursday's dinner is already precooked.

Laundry. Dishes. Check, check.

Homework done.

Swimsuits are packed.

New book purchased.

Emergency phone list posted.

Passports copied and stored for "just in case."

Medical release forms notarized.

,,,

...and breathe...

,,,

Oh Miss, I don't mean to interrupt your leisure reading in this amazing resort on a gorgeous beach, but I'm wondering if I can bring you another tropical drink?

Why yes, I'll take two.

And can I fluff your lounge chair pillow and get you a fresh towel while I'm up?

Please.

And can I offer you a complimentary full body massage in our spa?

I thought you'd never ask.

I'll have your bed turned down and the bottle of wine brought up to your room.

And the mint on my pillow, Rosario, don't forget the mint.

...

Maybe now that my trip preparations are over I can FINALLY get back to reading your brilliant words.

Camping!

Last weekend we headed out to a nearby lake for a weekend of camping with friends. As much as I love being outside and smelling like campfire smoke, it sure is a lot of work! If you remember my previous camping posts, you'll remeber we have "Genius Camper" awards. I'd like to share a couple from this particular camping trip...

Camp shoes. Uh-huh. Those are cardboard and duct tape. Excellent. These are perfect when your "real" shoes get all wet and sandy because you were wading in the lake trying to catch a minnow with your hands as if you are a stand in for SurvivorMan or even Man vs. Wild (even though your mom told you specifically not to get in the water with your shoes...)

Just take the cardboard box that once held some of our food supplies and cut two flaps off. Strap the cardboard to your feet with a couple of feet of duct tape and you're back in the camp football game going on up on the road. I expect these to catch on like Crocks. You hide and watch. I'm telling you, they're hot. (unless your feet are hairy and then, well, removal can be somewhat painful) Photo credit: Moi. Model: Kid Two

Hole-y Shovel. This really isn't unique to this particular campout but I do love this shovel. It has holes in it. Why? Glad you asked. I have a dutch oven to cook things like biscuits, cobbler, soup and whatever else I can figure out.

In order to cook things as if in an oven (um, thus the name, "dutch oven" - thank me later for that explanation) you place your cast iron D.O. on some hot coals and then cover the top with more hot coals. This way the heat surrounds the pot and things cook evenly. (This is a picture with only a few already-cooled coals so you get the idea.)

A shovel with holes in it allows you to scoop up the hot coals from the fire and "shake out" the ash so you don't dump a bunch of ashes on your dutch oven. That's no bueno because when you open the lid, you don't want ash falling into your precious dinner! With this shovel, you only get the red hot coals! My MIL had this made for me for my birthday one year.

And this is not a camp invention but it is a sweet picture. It's my FIL standing on the edge of the lake near sunset with Kid Three strapped in his wagon. It was just a warm, feel-good picture of those two.

And of course, my other camping favorite, the foxy Mr. I think they are giving the #1 sign right before the OU vs. Texas game. My how quickly things changed that day...

There were 6 other kids at the camp that weekend but they were too cool to be photographed by the resident photographer. Apparently flag football and playing along the shore line was much more fun. Whatever.

Such good times for our crew. Bugs and all.

Any campers out there? I know the Meadows family was off to camp this weekend! Check them out this week to see how it went. I'm sure someone over there will blog about it!

Election Smelection

Are you getting worn down on the upcoming election? I must admit, I have developed quite an affection for Fox News in the last month or so. Still, I'm ready for this whole thing to come to a close.

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The polls wear me out.

The debates are now predictable.

The constant rhetoric makes me grind my teeth at night.

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Let's just settle this now with this very biased poll.

Who are you voting for, and WHY?

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If you are undecided, I just don't believe you. How can you STILL be undecided? That's weak, in my "in-my-blog-and-I-can-say-what-I-want-to" opinion.

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For me: McCain. Because I'm against socialism and dude, that's where we're headed.

...

And you?

Guess what?

I was talking to a coworker recently and after we finished our work business she excitedly said, "Hey, guess what?"

I immediately thought, "Is she pregnant? Did she get a dog? Did her husband get a new car? What?"

"I'm getting baptized in a couple of weeks." she said. I promise I heard her smile on the phone.

I listened intently. This girl was fired up. She was excited about her committment to Christ. She was excited to tell people about her decision to be baptized. And she was excited about her life as a Believer.

She trusted me with her exciting new because she knew I would appreciate it and share in her joy. But it was more than that for me. I was humbled. I mean really humbled.

I found myself thinking about the conversation all afternoon. The passage of scripture I'm memorizing with Kid One came to mind.

Phil. 3:8-10 ...I consider everything a loss compared to the surpassing greatness of knowing Christ Jesus my Lord, for whose sake I have lost all things. I consider them rubbish, that I may gain Christ and be found in him...I want to know Christ and the power of his resurrection and the fellowship of sharing in his sufferings, becoming like him in his death, and so, somehow, to attain to the resurrection from the dead.

My friend inspired me to ask the Lord for a fresh hunger for Him today. I want to know Christ more and more. I want to be reminded of his life-changing power. I want to have an exciting "guess what?!" story about my Redeemer, no matter how long I've been a believer. Don't you?

(Thank you friend. Your excitement for the Master is contagious.)

No More Frodo Feet

Drastic times call for drastic measures.

.The facts are clear.

1. My feet are so dry and borderline (uh, dare I say it?) crusty that I am nearly afraid to go in public wearing my beloved assortment of flip flops.

2. As much as I love the results of a pedicure, I don't always like getting one.

3. I am easily influenced by the hype of an infomercial product. (I'm getting ahead of myself.)

..

I realize a $35 spa pedicure for the smoothest feet possible isn't really too much when you consider the benefits. I mean, really, I could rub my feet on the Mr.'s leg at night and he wouldn't have to reach for the first aid kit to stop the bleeding. Of course I couldn't scratch my mosquito bites with the side of my big toe any longer but I would be able to walk barefoot and not feel so self conscious.

But I'm frugal right now. I have a very long list of things requiring my $35 -- all of them ahead of "pedicure" on the list. Most of them involve the short people eating all the food in this house!

And furthermore, I'm a little afraid of the "treatment" that would be required to set the world in order on these heels of mine. I can see it now... soak, soak, soak...rinse and trim nails. As the Chinese girl starts working on me with that razor scrapy thing, she could potentially lose focus and start digging in too hard...which hurts! All the while, she barks in her native tongue to a room full of foot-scraping coworkers and I.have.no.idea.what.they.say. PLUS, my feet are so incredibly ticklish that I squirm the whole time they are touching me. (The technician becomes visibly annoyed by my white knuckle antics with the magazine hiding my grimmace.)

So, as wonderfully relaxing as the 2 minute leg massage segment of a pedicure can be, I have to skip it because I just don't want to do it.

..

Poor Frodo Feet linger and dry out more and more each day.

..

However...
....

Today I took the law of dry skin into my own hands. I bought a Ped-Egg. A real live "as-seen-on-TV", ergonomically friendly Ped-Egg. I can't wait to use it. I think many of you have one. I can only hope I'm not diasppointed. I'll be on the beach in 8 days and I don't plan to take these callouses with me. I am counting on this being the best $10 I've spent all week.

What's your home remedy for dry heels? Do tell.

Dear Google Reader

Dear Google Reader,

This is getting out of control.

One hundred sixty one? Really?

Outside of a miracle I don't think I can keep up with you. Every morning for the last several days I've had too much on my calendar to play around in the blogworld. Of course I mean my blog "work." GR, (you don't mind if I call you GR, do you?) I have neglected you and yet you are so faithful to continue providing interesting things for me to read. Today after checking my Gmail, I didn't even click "Reader" because I know I can't live up to your expectations. I didn't want to tease you.

Ever since I started putting some extra things on my "to don't" list as Pastor Craig instructed, I've had to push you down on the list a little. Sorry GR, you're not my favorite addiction this week. Remember the foxy Mr. living in my house? I pick him. And those kids running around eating all my food? I pick them. Oh, and my Redeemer? He's WAY better than you, GR.

,,,

Sorry GR. You haven't made the cut lately. But I do like your faithfulness to deliver day after day even when I ignore you. And for that, I may just throw you a bone this weekend and see what you have to offer. Of course, don't be offended if I don't make it all the way down the list. I'll be using my timer again...

Sincerely,

Kim

Do you ever feel like your blog reading/writing gets to be too time consuming? How do you set boundaries?

Neighborhood garage sales will make you fat.

This weekend was the neighborhood garage sale. ugh.

In previous years, we've participated in the chance to liquidate our junk for pennies on the dollar and make room for a whole new season of "must have" trinkets. This year I surveyed the mounting piles of "junk" inventory and tried to carefully weigh my options.

Donate the items to the local charity
Slap on some stickers and have a garage sale

I ran a quick spreadsheet in my head and determined I couldn't make enough money per hour to justify my set up time, so I bagged the garage sale and decided to take on the role of a shopper this year.

How perfectly perfect... The truth is, I secretly love garage sales. I don't go often and when I do go in search of the one item that may just land me on Antique Roadshow, I never find anything I must have. Let's face it everyone, one man's trash is another man's treasure trash relocated. Yet, I pour a cup of coffee and head out the door occassionally with a wad of ones in my pocket, ready to bargain with someone.

I pulled Kid Three around the neighborhood in his wagon. It was the perfect disguise for a "junk hauler" and that's what I was hoping for on this day. I kind of felt like I was due a bargain after all the other disappointing garage sale adventures.

At the first house I visited, an adorable little girl was selling donuts. I like little girls. And I like donuts. Who could resist? She priced them at $1 but everyone knows you can't charge $1 for a donut unless it's a Krispy Kreme sin-circle and the hot light is ON. Otherwise, 50 cents is my limit. You got that?! My limit.

I woofed down the cold-but-still-satisfying "clearance sale" donut, politely pretended to peruse their junk and went on to the the next house...

...where a precious little curly haired girl was selling chocolate chip cookies for 50 cents each!! Well, seeing as how that is clearly within my budget and I love chocolate chip cookies, I purchased one of those too. Nevermind the time. Many people believe 8:15 am is the best time for a chocolate chip cookie. I happen to agree.

The next couple of sales were just that. Sales. No snacks for sale. How boring.

Skip on around the corner and the whole baseball team is peddling chocolate glazed Krispe Kreme donuts for a respectable price. And how cute are they in those little uniforms? Okay. I'll take a donut, please.

The second neighborhood loop kept me happy. Two boys were selling bottled water and m.u.f.f.i.n.s. The Invisible Me screamed with glee when I saw those. Only $.75? Really? Oh, okay...but only because those smiles were so precious.

By this time Kid Three wanted to take a nap so I had to detour and go back home. Emptyhanded. But not hungry...and where did that $5 in my pocket go already?! And why do I suddenly feel shaky like I'm getting ready to experience a sugar-induced coma?...

I have learned another valuable lesson. When it comes to neighborhood garage sales, either buck up and participate with your own sale, or leave the neighborhood all together. Walking around and supporting the neighbor kids' attempt at free enterprise WILL make you fat.

Something to Read?

On October 22 the Mr. and I are headed to the beach! The youngin' is 11 months old now [boo-hoo] and we've been blessed to join his company sales incentive trip to Atlantis. Remember, my guy is the GRAND ACHIEVER! I'm really proud of him for that terrific accomplishment!

Anyway...between relaxing under the sun, eating fattening food and enjoying a stunning hotel & spa, I may just do something strenuous like read...or nap.

I'm looking for a good book to read (or two). Any suggestions?

Give me your best book review!

(I owe the library some $$, no surprise Mom, so if you want to loan me a book that would be fantacular!...except a good spiritual book beause I love to underline stuff and write in the margins...)

Kid Three Is Mobile

My Wednesday was full of running...

...Running after Kid Three and picking up all of his messes. He can crawl now and at lightning speed...which means NOTHING is off limits unless it is put way up high. You have kids, you know how it works.

Apparently Kid Three doesn't know I enjoy reading a few blogs each day and writing a post or two of my own. While I worked my part time job this morning, here is the damage he did in fifteen minutes or less.

First he spilled all his toys out of the basket. I'm okay with this, because that's what toy baskets are for.

Then he emptied my office trashcan of all the paper and spread it around the toys.

Back up a little and remove all the Christmas cards from the cute little red box. Spread those out all over the place and continue to look cute while wearing "woof" jammies.

Back up a little MORE and empty the whole basket of winter hats/gloves onto the floor. Nice work, Kid Three. At least you're consistent.

I put that little sugar booger down for his morning nap and I emptied this.

My blogging days may be coming to an end so I can have enough time to chase the small guy and still get stuff done around here... At least until he goes to school, which will feel like only 30 minutes from now at this growth rate.

I wish they stayed this small longer. It goes too fast. This mess isn't so bad.