Why I'm A SUCKA!

Here's my two youngest kids the other night. Just an average weeknight.
Aren't they cute? All snuggled in, popcorn and pretzels in hand, movie in Sophies little 1980 VHS/TV combo..

..at 11:30 PM.
Yeah. How did THAT happen? Oh. It happened cause Sophie had slept in that day and "wasn't tired", and Bo snuck up out of his own bed to talk about a random thought on the alphabet.. or to point out some week old scab.. and happened upon Sophie, still awake and being entertained by some form of Disney.. and just crawled up there with his little sister, all precious-like. They were so giddy and pleased to be up, together, so late.. what was I to do?
Offer snacks, ofcourse.
Sneaky little adorable faces that know how to work it, plus one sucker-of-a-mother.. equals party in bed.. til' midnight.

I, Have A Problem.

For some.. it's chocolate. Others.. alcohol. For ME? It's made-up theme parties for no apparent reason. Yes.. me likes the parties.
I like to get enthused about an idea.. invite people to it.. and decorate the crap out of it. I like people to come and be together-- on an average night, say, a Wednesday in March for instance-- and chat and eat and laugh. Preferably in bizarre get-ups with bad make-up and dumb hair.
Like.. THIS:
If THAT'S not a perty wedding group.. don't know what is.
The most hilarious part.. is that dear Kaly, to the very left (the one with the awesome bangs) weighs maybe 90 pounds soakin' wet. That dress is SO flattering.
It was my very own "Wedding Party".. complete with brides, bridesmaids, and wedding albums to pass around, and mock, for hours.
There were out of date brides.. like myself. (Seriously. WHAT was I thinking 14 years ago? That one day there might be a run on bad sequined lace.. so I better get it ALL on one dress? Don't get me started on my headpiece..)
There were 'hat' brides..
(Complete with original green feather guest book pen. GORGEOUS.)
There were minimal brides..

and.. drunk.. brides..

Isn't she a vision??
The velour bridesmaids (or as I like to refer to them,
"Young Compound Brides")were a big hit..

And the discolored sweat ring velour.. even bigger.. hit.

So as you can see.. about 15 friends that are game.. and a few dollar store touches..

And ya got yourself a party.
My name is Katy. And I have a problem.

This Is What FUN Looks Like!

There's nothing NOT fun about Chuck E. Cheese's..
except ofcourse.. Chuck E. Cheese, himself.
This was Sophies reaction on our way out, when the huge hairy mouse caught her off guard.
Luckily the larger-than-life turn-your-poop-green popsicle she's waving.. was enough of a distraction to get her happy and back to licking before long.
Chuck E. Cheese.. "Where a Kid Can be a Terrified, Kid."

Seriously, Roscoe?

He really is, usually.. a great dog.

jUsT A TAD biT oVerWhELmeD..

I'm happy.. alot. I find joy in gorgeous weather and cute clothes.. good frozen yogurt-- and great reality T.V. I like going overboard on holidays.. and laughing at inappropriate things on occasion. I love sitting in the sunshine.. jogging.. talking to human beings-- and raising the ones that are my own.
In fact.. I often think that I enjoy motherhood in particular, more than most people.. and consider that a blessing. I find so much more fun and satisfaction, than stress, in being the Mom. I'm grateful I'm not very easily overwhelmed.. and secretly find a lot of pride in what a fine job I do at loving those I love.
But tonight.. just at the present moment.. I'm feeling just a little, um, stressed.
First off. My Jesse. My oldest.. my responsible, good, boy. He works his tail off to get excellent grades, and is a great brother to every last one of his little siblings. He is also in middle-school..and therefore must deal with middle-school crap. He fights his insecurities daily.. and has no idea what an amazing kid he is..no matter how many times we remind him.
My Sam. He is enthusiastic and loving and goofy. He cannot seem to comprehend anything mathematical no matter how hard I try to help, and is falling behind. He needs constant prodding.. pushing.. 'nagging' if you will.. to get anything done. Anything.
My Bo is eager and cuddly and sweet. He will also, not wear half the clothes he owns, and has severe growing pains on an hourly basis-- that he feels it necessary to moan VERY loudly about.. for quite some time.
Sophie is hilarious and ridiculously enjoyable..
but will not pee on the potty to save my life.
Oh.. and did I mention I need to keep these little beings clean, their teeth brushed, their hair cut, their clothes laundered, their shoes the right size,and all of them nourished with all 5 food groups? And in bed before midnight.
I'm up to my bum in flash cards, socks without matches, and dishes.
In the scheme-o-things.. I am blessed beyond belief.
Tomorrow I will wake up refreshed, in love with my life, and confident I can handle it all.
The strengths will outweigh the weaknesses.
The love will overshadow the worry.
My boys laughter and the joy in seeing Sophies crazy morning hair, will overcome me.
So not sure why.. but tonight.. the challenge to successfully help them all develop mentally, physically, emotionally, and spiritually .. it's just a little much.
Ya think?

Does It Get Any Better?

Sophie playing house... in her 3 inch wedges.

Check Out My RACK!

Not THAT rack.. ya pervs.
The rack you may have already caught a view of in my huge, front window. It's actually Jasens rack. The rack that holds what he holds most dear in life. Tiny, buried, tomato seeds.
He is one committed little gardener.. and after a long cold winter (that if you've still noticed, isn't even kinda over..) of sitting in his easy chair with his Gardeners Bible in hand.. he just could not wait another minute.

We spent his last day off at Anderson Seed-- looking through a catalog.. a CATALOG.. of SEEDS. Didn't know there was such a thing. Thought catalogs were for shoes and pretty underwear.. and toys to circle for Christmas. But there it was.. and there we stood-- for a really, really, long, time.. choosing just the right 'breeds' (wait.. that's not the right word..) of everything from peas to turnips.. and left with $40.00 of 'bulk' seeds, and one enthusiastic husband.
So about the rack. He claims the front window is THE best spot for his precious seedlings to thrive.. and has now added a space heater to 'fake summer' temperatures..
(it's a very deceitful process.)
There was a time I would of refused. Couldn't of taken the clutter in our already tight kitchen table quarters.. and balked at the look of a red, metal RACK in my front window 24/7.
But he loves it. And I love him. And I love that he loves it.
So go ahead. Do a drive by. Check out my rack.