A Monday night list, posted on a Tuesday afternoon.

I wrote this post last night.
But then I never posted it.
Because I had very important things to do.
I told you WE ARE ADDICTED.

*****

::Brynlee getting a drink out or the broken drinking fountain at the park::

I was irritable today.
Just one of those days.
{Sigh}.
I hate when I'm irritable.
It irritates me.
Tomorrow will be a better day.
It has to be.
My laundry baskets overfloweth.
I'll do something about that tomorrow.
Oh, and I've been meaning to get my order sent in for our most recent family photos.
Add that to tomorrow's list, as well.
And on my kitchen counter sits a baby gift that I sent off about 2 months ago.
I addressed it wrong and, therefore, it was returned to my mailbox.
Go figure.
That's irritating.
I've yet to re-mail it.
Tomorrow.
I'm writing this list as I do the dishes.
Oprah calls it multi-tasking.
Bonus points to whoever can name that movie.
Or should it be whomever?
I don't know.
For FHE tonight we went swimming at our local swimming hole.
The kids had a ball.
And then I was no longer irritable.
I hate my Bosch dishwasher.
Hate it!
It irritates me.
Tonight we'll start Lost: Season Six.
We have a mouse in our garage.
My garage has a loft above it.
That's where I keep all of my storage.
Children's clothes, maternity clothes, power lifting gear, fabric, camping stuff, my shoeboxes of pictures. . .
And food storage.
The dang mouse has helped itself.
We have six mouse traps loaded and ready to snap.
So the mouse has its pick.
But he's no dummy.
Obviously, sunchips and hot chocolate mix take the cake over peanut butter and cheese.
As does the middle section of Jace's swimming towel.
Ggrrrr.
Spence even sweetened the Peanut Butter with a little vanilla.
Pure vanilla.
The good stuff.
It still hasn't succumbed.
Irritating.
Mice are wasteful.
They eat through an entire bag of chips to nibble on one little corner of one little chip.
And their greedy.
They take things that aren't theirs.
Without asking!
That irritates me.
{Sigh}

I once was Lost

::This picture has nothing to do with this post::

::But I read {on somebody elses blog} that it's LAME to post a post without a picture::

::Nobody wants to be lame::

Sooooo. . .we got rid of our Dish Network. I'm not entirely sure why we did, we just did. It was a bit of I'm Sick of Paying the Man the Bill, with a side of We Never Watch it Anyways, dipped in There's a Hundred Channels to Watch but Never Anything Worth Watching, and garnished with Its Summertime! You Don't Need the Picture Box in the Summertime.

I texted Spence one morning and told him I was going to have it cancelled. And then I called the Dish Network Eradication Gods and told them to do their thing. {Right in the middle of the American Idol season, mind you}. And that was that. The Gods eradicated and our Dish Network ceased to exist.

After I cancelled we realized that without Dish Network we didn't have ANY channels. No local channels, no news, no perfectly positioning tin-foiled bunny ears to watch a fuzzy Jay Leno. We had nothing. Nada. Zilch. Zip.

So we signed up for Netflix. We'd {wii} stream a morning cartoon for the kids while they dined on bowls of sugar and milk. And then every once in awhile Spence and I would snuggle up and watch a late night movie. And that was the extent of our T.V. watching.

It was perfect.

But then something happened. It was a spring night in the middle of May. The kids had already escaped to dreamland and Spence and I wanted to watch a show. We wanted something quick; something we could watch while we boob tubed ourselves to exhaustion.  But not a two hour movie. 

So we {wii} streamed Lost: Season One: Episode One. And we watched it. And then we watched Lost: Season One: Episode Two, and Episode Three, and Four and Five.

I emailed my sister-in-law, Sarah. "We're watching Lost" I typed to her. She responded telling me to put down the remote and quietly walk away for the TV. "It's not worth it" she argued, "Your OCD will hate the shows ending."  But I couldn't. We couldn't. It was too late. The *island* had spoken and it was Spencer and I's fate to continue to devote every.single.evening to Lost.

And so we did.

WE DO!

We were immediately addicted. Spence and I analyze the characters; we discuss the possibilities and try to make sense of the island. Project: Master Bathroom was been put on hold while we finish up Project: Lost. Every night we watch just "one more episode" until its more morning time than night time. Kate came over late one night and I jokingly {kinda} asked her to leave so we could watch our show. And every now and again, because I think it's funny, I call Spencer freckles. And in case you're wondering, my time away at girl's camp made my left Lost watching eye break out into random, uncontrollable spasms.

Now we are on Season 5: Episode 7.

We've been on that episode for two days now. Spencer is SO busy at work. So much so that he doesn't have time for Lost. He sent me a threatening text message last night informing me that I wasn't to watch even the tiniest bit of a Lost episode without him {Like I would. . .Geez!}.

So instead I wait for his to get his dang work done so we can pick up where we left off. Is it bad to quit your day job so you can watch Lost at night?!

I think it's what the island would have us do.

It’s just like I never stopped updating.

::Brynlee and Jace reading books at the library::

I clicked on my Google reader the other morning. 297 new items. Two-hundred and ninety seven. I got overwhelmed, looked away and closed the computer screen as if I'd never seen it. 297 new blog posts to read. Gah.

This evening, when I decided to make an official Google reader recommitment, the number was even larger. It's going to take me awhile to make my way through this web of unread blog posts. I've neglected you dear blogland and I'm sorry. But on the bright side, it looks like you have finally updated. Thanks for that. No really, I was starting to worry that ya'll had sold your entire internet soul to Facebook.

Tonight Spence is out late with somebody other than myself. He lovingly calls her "work". A.K.A. I've got a huge project due and I'll sleep when that's done! A.K.A. I really want the paycheck signer to keep signing the paycheck therefore, I'll stay late. A.K.A. Hey wife, it's 8pm and I'm still at work will you bring me Strawberry Shortcake Ice-cream bar. Please.

So in his absence {after the Strawberry Shortcake Ice-cream bar emergency, of course} Google reader and I ignored the dishes and cuddled on the couch with the lights dimmed, a little music in the background, and a fuzzy blankie wrapped around us.

I've skimmed, read, studied, laughed, cried, glanced at pictures and wondered how those Fabulessly Frugal chicks can find enough great deals to post 15 HUNDRED times a day. Seriously, their Frugalness makes my head spin. And it makes my neglected Google reader account reach 297 new items.

Do you know what else makes my head spin? Going sixteen days without a "real" blog post. {I'm not entirely sure what constitutes a "real" blog post. But I'm about certain a conversation about pink skeleton heads doesn't make the cut.}

Do you want to know what else probably doesn't make the cut? An"if-I-had-been-updating-regularly-this-is-what-the-first-few-sentences-of-the-unwritten-posts-would-have-read" post.

Um, so without further ado, an"if-I-had-been-updating-regularly-this-is-what-the-first-few-sentences-of-the-unwritten-posts-would-have-read" post.  Sorry.  Feel free to mark this read in google reader if you have 296 other blog posts to read.

*****

June 9^th: My visiting teachers took me to lunch today. Bet you wished you had visiting teachers like mine. Neiner neiner neiner!

One of the ladies told us that she started wearing make-up when she was 15 years old and since that day she has never EVER left the house without make-up on. I'm not good at guessing ages, but I know that she is retired and is old enough to have loads of grandchildren. And that she's lived through a whole lot of make-up wearing years.

I don't like to overextend myself, but my goal is to never leave the house until I put on a bra and brush my teeth. And sometimes I fail at that. Bet you wish *I* was your visiting teacher.

June 12^th: Three cheers for my Grandpa Jess. Happy Birthday to somebody that I will always respect (and cross my legs and sit up tall when I'm around). I love you Grandpa!

June 13^th: Jace hates nursery.

June 16^th: Things change. People change. Places change. But there's one thing that never changes? Girls camp. Girls camp will always and forever be girls camp. Forever, and ever, amen.

June 17^th: I spent the evening around the camp fire tonight singing songs about boys and frogs and kissing and boys and camping and boys. I taught the girls the "hunka-hunka" song that Heather taught us when I was a girl at girl's camp. It brought back memories of my girl's camp days and the songs we used to sing about boys, and tumble weeds, and sharp-tooth buzzards, and boys.

Tomorrow the camp is headed to the nicknamed "Leech Pond" to play on the rope swing. Heaven help me.

June 18^th: Last night I slept in a sleeping bag, on the floor of a cabin, in the mountains, without my family! Brynlee is 4½ and Jace is 21 months and until last night I had never EVER slept a night without them. Ever. And Spence and I have been married for {almost} seven years and if I you asked I could probably list every time we've spent the night apart. There's not many. And that's just the way I like it. Nights are much more peaceful when we're all together. I think it's supposed to be that way.

::the upside down Christmas tree sign that welcomed me home from girls camp::

June 19^th: I survived girl's camp. And my kids were still here {and cute as ever} when I reported home. As was my house, my husband, and my sisters. Thanks Jami, Kate and Spencer {and the rope swing} for being strong.

June 20^th: My dad's rad. And so is his dad. And so is my kid's dad. And so is my kid's dad's dad. Happy Father's Day to all you RAD dads. And to your dads.

June 21^st: Brynlee started swimming lessons today. She was about 15 different levels of excited. And then they made her go under water. And then she cried. And then she wasn't excited anymore.

June 21^st: I think p-i-c-n-i-c spells summer. My kids think p-i-c-n-i-c spells summer. We've picnicked for lunch for fourteen of the last twenty-one days. Get out your picnic blankets and go on a picnic because it's officially summer.

June 22^nd: We spent the day at Lava Hot Springs with the Francis Family just like last year. Spence couldn't come. Some excuse about having to work to pay the bills. Whateve. Can I just tell you that I love Sarah and her family? I think Sarah and I are soul-sister{in-laws}.

June 23^rd: Day three of swimming lessons. There were fewer tears.

June 24^th: I can't predict the future, but with Spence's busy work schedule I might actually get through my Google reader after the kids are snug in their beds tonight. Or I might do the dishes. Or eat ice-cream while talking on the phone. There is no saying what tomorrow will bring.

 

::Jace eating Cotton Candy Coldstone Ice-cream::

::Photocredit goes to Brynlee::

*A special thanks to my day planner addiction

for contributing to this post.

A Sunday Afternoon Conversation

::Hi, this is me and I'm oblivious::

And {apparently} pay little attention to detail::

::Photo credit goes to Brynlee::

Spence (sitting in front of the computer): Hey Kim. . .
Me (shouting from the other room): Yeah?
S: Uhh, did you realize your blog has a skeleton on it?
K: What?
S: Yeah, your blog, it has a skeleton head on it.
K: A skeleton head?
S: Yup. The dot on the "i" it's a skeleton head.
K (sigh and a chuckle): Oh lovely. A skeleton head?!

And then I made my way to the computer to check it out. And, he wasn't lying. The dot on the "i" is indeed a skeleton head.

All this time and I've never noticed it.  Not once. Even while I created it. But now, whenever I click on my blog page, I don't notice anything else but a big, fat, pink skeleton head staring back at me.

I heart weekends;

It was a busy weekend. Again. I can tell that it's nearing summertime. The weekends are always busy in the summertime.

My good friend Heidi B. once told me that she hated the weekend. "The weekend messes with my schedule," she argued. She said something about no set lunch time or naptime and how it drove her absolutely crazy. I spend the weekend waiting for Monday," she added.

I couldn't disagree more. I mean, I love a schedule. Ohhh, how I love a schedule. Ya'll know that I love a schedule.

But, I also love the weekend. It's an excuse to ignore the clock and just be. To make an emergency candybar run to the gas station just because the kids ask. An excuse to spend the evening at the Performing Arts Center watching a play production of Alice in Wonderland and Mulan. An excuse to pretend you don't have a to-do list big enough to fill the next three weeks and to instead eat suckers to your little heart's content.

If it wasn't for the weekend, how else would we play a life-size game of Candyland. And scale the wall of a bouncy house. And take pictures with a balloon blowing clown.

The weekends an excuse to celebrate a third birthday with your friends, the twins. To fill a bouncy house with balloons and then pop them any way you can. To take a few swings at a piñata and then eat armfuls of candy. And then, like you haven't had enough junk food, devour a big ole' slice of perfectly decorated dragon cake.

If it wasn't for the weekend we wouldn't have Sunday afternoon naps {which Spencer and I take in shifts} or Saturday morning waffles with Strawberries and cream.

And as much as I love scheduled naptimes and set lunchtimes...I love Sunday naps and Saturday waffles even more.

So, I'm so glad there's a weekend. Aren't you?

The “Look at Me” Projects: Brynlee’s Display Board

I bought this shelf at the thrift store.

Cost me four bucks.

I loved the flower cut-outs.

And it matched Brynlee's bedroom décor.

But it had faux gold flecked mirrors behind the flowers.

And the shelf portion of it was awkward.

Spencer cut off the shelf.
And the scalloped burnt edges.
And then I primed and painted.
And glued clothespins on the bottom.

{I used Gorilla Glue.

Don't use Gorilla Glue on a project like this.

It expands when it dries.

And leaves a big foam-y bump-y mess.

Learn from my mistake.}

I decorated the clothespins with scrapbook paper and flowers.

And named it Brynlee's display board.

She's been creating and displaying ever since.

And my fridge finally has a little breathing room.

P.S.

I haven't forgotten about pictures of the MASSIVE BED in all its MASSIVE GLORY.

Well, actually I did.

But then Erin reminded me.

And I will post them.

But with Project: Master Bathroom going on...well,

my OCD won't allow me to take pictures of the

MASSIVE BED in all it's MASSIVE GLORY

when the bathtub is sitting right next to it.

which is sitting right next to the air compressor,

which is right next to the skill saw.

And the sheetrock dust, AAAHHHHHH, the sheetrock dust.

My eyes. They’re heavy.

::Spencer doing master bathroom demolition with toilet paper ear plugs::

Um, hi there. I'm tired. Really tired. Like exhausted kind of tired.

I got out of the shower this morning and slicked my wet hair back into a braid. My arms were too heavy to lift above my head to run the blow dryer and I couldn't see straight to put my make-up on. So I didn't.

I told you that we started Project: Master Bathroom, right? Well the last few days we {read: mainly Spence} have been busy Project: Master Bathroom-ing. That's how we spent our Memorial Day weekend. Relaxing, huh.

After dinner tonight I had to make a supply run to Home Depot. Before I left I said a quick prayer.

Dear Heavenly Father. I have to go to Home Depot AGAIN. It's just going to be me and the kids. And I'm tired. Please let the kids be on their best behavior. No fits or whining. And please, oh please, bless me that I'll be patient with them. Amen.

Oh and Heavenly Father, while we're gone Spence is going to be doing some electrical work. Please bless that he doesn't blow the house up. Amen.

I'm happy to report that albeit tired, Spencer was still in one piece when we returned home. So was our house.  And so were my children.

God does answer prayers.  Even tired, uncombed hair ones.  Oh happy day.

:: monkey number one ::

:: monkey number two ::