If you happen to check out my Facebook or Instagram pages, you’ll notice that there are lots of photos of JJ playing with trains. He eats with his trains. He sleeps with them. He dreams about them (so we learned when he woke up once from a nap and yelled, “train tracks!”). When we get in the car to leave the house he says, “No! I want to go back home and play with trains!” And when we finally convince him that we have to leave the house at least once a month, he says, “I want to go to the store [Barnes & Noble] and play with trains [they have a train table]” or “Let’s find some train tracks.”
Just last night when we told him it was time for bed, he whined, “But I want to play with my trains.” Never mind the fact that we have permanently set up a train track 2 feet from his bed so that he can get his fix at all hours of the night.
Naturally, JJ’s favorite show is Thomas & Friends. I do love that my 3-year-old now says things like “very well, then” and “Mama is cross” with a slight English accent, but I grew concerned about the show when I was invited by JJ to play trains in the basement last week.
Warning: The following post may be disturbing to some readers. Particularly those with a weak stomach. Reader discretion is advised.
If you caught Wednesday’s post about our exciting car ride on Monday afternoon, then you can probably guess how the rest of my week has been. I have cleaned up vomit 5 different times. FIVE. That’s about five more times than I would have to do it if I had that live-in nanny Brian promised me before I agreed to marry him.
Yesterday at 5:45 a.m., I awoke to JJ’s blood-curdling scream and the reconstituted remnants of his evening meal. I think Bill Engvall is so right about this one: someone should invent an alarm clock that sounds like a baby vomiting because there is NO snoozing!
So, as I watched 12 solid hours of kid-friendly programming yesterday, I put a great deal of thought into Mr. Engvall’s words. If I’ll never have that live-in nanny, then I should probably consider how I can turn these unpleasant moments into a lucrative business opportunity.
My Super-Simple, No-Fail Diet Plan
I hopped in the car with the kids on Monday for a week-long trip to the booming metropolis of Knob Noster, Missouri. Yes, since you asked, we do lead glamorous lives.
Brian is working in Knob Noster all week, and I thought it would be a sanctifying experience if the kids and I joined him there for five days in a military hotel. I woke up with no alarm at 6:30 a.m. on Monday (seriously, that’s a miracle in and of itself) with a list of things I needed to accomplish before our 4:00 p.m. estimated departure. I wanted to wait until after Averi’s nap to hit the road, and I knew I would need every bit of the morning and afternoon to pack for a week in a hotel with two toddlers.
Did I mention it is a one bedroom hotel?
I was shooting for super-sancitifed.
It’s no secret around here that my dear husband doesn’t have much going on “up top.” He started balding around the same time we started dating back in January of 1999.
[That doesn’t sound like a coincidence to me…]
The poor guy hasn’t seen a full head of hair since we were in college. And, as the years go by and our children continually refuse to potty train, his scalp becomes more and more visible.
Yes, Brian’s hair is seriously thinning.
And, if you say it like Charlie Sheen—“THIN-ning”—it makes him laugh out loud.
As I mentioned to you on Monday’s post, we already partook in one Thanksgiving feast while my parents were here last week. It wasn’t as over-the-top as we’re accustomed to (we had only 6 or 7 side dishes this time), but it was absolutely delicious. Thanks to Brian’s turkey and my mom’s…well, everything else, it was a huge success. A great time was had by all!
Well, almost all.
Update: November 20, 2013
Thank you to everyone who participated! The winners of the gorgeous cookbooks are…
1) gina: “A FULL dish!!! But seriously, I could eat sweet potato casserole until I’m doubled over with a stomach ache–and still manage to eat one more bite! The toasted marshmallows seal the deal for me!”
2) Laura: “My mom’s green beans is a dish that I loved and I didn’t find anything similar at other thanksgivings. Steam them, then combine in sauté pan with crumbled bacon, bit of brown sugar, worcheshire sauce and thinly sliced green onions. I also enjoyed her jello mold…orange jello with peach slices in it on top of a cool whip fluff of some sort. She made it every year just for me.”
Congratulations! Please send an email to email@example.com to claim your prize.
It’s that time again, y’all: time for the 2nd Annual Katy in a Corner Thanksgiveaway! This tradition has lasted almost as long as my most impressive workout streak—so…twice in a row.
Okay, it’s lasted TWICE as long as my most impressive workout streak.
In case you’re wondering why my posts have been pretty infrequent around here, I’m now able to share with you the reason why. I have been working on a story so near and dear to my heart that I have poured all of my free time and energy into it. This is a story so incredible that I flew from Kansas back to Georgia to capture it.
It’s a story about my Grandmother, Geraldine “Gerry” Hinesley, and the man who was her first love.
A story about a letter she wrote and how it arrived 69 years later…
I have had a love-hate relationship with my antidepressant medication for the past decade.
We’ve been together since college. I discovered my “need” for this particular SSRI when my general practitioner suggested that I give it a try. Like a blind date. Only, I had to pay for it. And it made me nauseous.
But I guess actual blind dates could have a similar outcome.