Last week I shared our house hunting adventures in Birmingham, Alabama, but I failed to mention that we’re already here in a corporate apartment close to Brian’s new office. We “moved out” (most of our junk is still there) of my in-laws’ place at the lake in Georgia and decided to live on top of each other in a two bedroom apartment until we close on our house. And thanks to our very nice but very close quarters, I have a whole new appreciation for parents whose children share a bedroom. Seriously, how do y’all do that?
Bedtime around here resembles feeding time in the chimpanzee cage at the zoo.
And I’m not talking about the cute, cuddly chimpanzees who will hug you and pick bugs out of your hair for you. Because those are some helpful, well-trained chimps. I’m talking about the crazy ones who plot against the zookeepers and help each other escape.
Bedtime is like a code red lockdown at the zoo.
Warning: The following post contains images of bug bites that may be disturbing to some viewers. In other words you may not want to look at this while you’re eating.
If you follow me on Facebook, Twitter, or Instagram, you’ve probably noticed there’s been a flurry of activity in our lives the past few weeks. Two weekends ago Brian and I attended BloggyCon ’14 in Sandusky, Ohio. In the middle of last week, we drove to Birmingham, Alabama for Brian’s first grown-up interview. We remembered that the last interview he had was in 2001 at a bookstore in Athens, Georgia. He was hired to remove stickers from the textbooks. That interview probably went something like this:
Interviewer: “Son, have you ever sniffed Goo Gone?”
Brian: “Not that I recall.”
Interviewer: “Well, today is your lucky day.”
I’m pretty sure he was high on Goo Gone that entire summer.
If I’m being 100% honest with y’all, I’d have to say that I reluctantly went to BloggyCon ’14 at Cedar Point this past weekend. Veeeeeeery reluctantly. So much so that I was tempted to call the event organizer and just lay out for her all of the reasons I didn’t want to go:
[Well, that’s a negative attitude. Why couldn’t Katy enjoy herself at one of the happiest places on earth?]
I got a text Tuesday from a friend and loyal blog reader asking if everything is okay here in the Land of Milk and Hotdogs. I suppose my absence from the blog for more than a week throws up red flags. The truth is that my heart has been so heavy this past week that I didn’t even know where to begin. Still, I’d like to share what God has taught us in the midst of a devastating family tragedy.
The next time someone asks me what I do for a living, I’m going to pull out the following photo and show it to them.
I’m a mommy blogger. So, I basically force my husband and kids to do fun things with me so I can blog about them.
I’m not gonna lie, I sometimes dry heave when I read social media anniversary updates from one spouse to another.
“Happy 4th Anniversary to my Schnookums! You are my everything. You are hotness incarnate. You are the reason I breathe. You are my oxygen.”
You are the reason I vomit.
Let’s step back to nearly a MONTH ago when the four of us went to my in-laws’ farmhouse in Indiana. When my fashionable, Chinese friend and her husband spent their honeymoon with us. Before I had THREE children in my house asking 3 million questions an hour and eating 3 million pounds of peanut butter. I would like to finally tell you the rest of that story before I forget all of it and that space in my brain is replaced with VeggieTales lyrics.
“If it doesn’t have a tail, it’s not a monkey.
Even if it has a monkey-kind-of shape.
If it doesn’t have a tail, it’s not a monkey. If it doesn’t have a tail, it’s not a monkey. It’s an ape!”
I promise I haven’t forgotten about y’all. And I know that I STILL haven’t finished telling you about our trip to Indiana and our surprise visitors. I will do that soon, God willing. But our world became much busier this week when we invited my cousin’s 3 1/2-year-old daughter, Ginlee (pronounced Gin-lee, just like it’s spelled), to stay with us for the summer.
How adorable is she?
If you’re keeping track, we now have a 2-year-old, a 3-year-old, and a 4-year-old sleeping under our roof.
I use the term “sleeping” quite loosely.
Dear Chinese Government,
In a blog post last week, I said this:
“Believe it or not, even this silly, little blog is banned in China. Which makes sense because access to mommy blogs is pretty high on the list of ways to completely corrupt a nation.”
And then I got a comment on that post from my friend in China that said this: