The main source of my chaos...

Wednesday, August 29, 2012

My Facebook Friends

I’ve noticed that my while my Facebook friends have distinct personalities in real life, they can basically fit into a few categories on Facebook.
CATEGORY 1 – The Tell-All
You never have to worry about what this person is doing, is going to do, or has done.  It’s all spelled out on their page – where they went, who they went with, what was said, and how much they enjoyed it (or not!).  It’s all there. 
CATEGORY 2 – The Gamer
I get so annoyed by game requests.  SO annoyed.  I’ve been on FB for years and have never played Gardenville or Farmtown or whatever it’s called, and there’s about a 99.9% chance I never will.  Therefore, I most likely don’t have a plow that you can borrow.  But, I PROMISE, if I find an extra plow lying around the house, you will be the first to know.
CATEGORY 3 – The Creeper
You know this person HAS a Facebook, but they never post statuses or anything.  You would think they are never on FB except for the fact that they LIKE every single one of your posts and your pictures. 
CATEGORY 4 – The Closet Facebooker
This would be my husband, who DECLARES Facebook to be a stupid, immature waste of time.  He finds it ridiculous that adults spend so much time “goofing” off (says the man who will probably not sleep for weeks when the next Call of Duty game comes out).  For it to be such a silly waste of brain cells, I’m always surprised when I look over at night (EVERY night) and see him with the iPad camped out on my Facebook page.  He will, of course, deny this but I speak the truth.
CATEGORY 5 – The Proud Mama
This person thinks everything her child says is hysterical and clever, and cannot WAIT to post it for all to see.  She’s also disappointed and gets her feelings hurt if she doesn’t get at least 20 likes. J  (Don’t judge me.  What my kids say IS funny and more than 20 people should think so!)
CATEGORY 6 – The Super Model Wannabe
You know who I’m talking about.  If you can describe your Facebook friend’s bathroom, then you know she’s your Category 6, because she’s ALL THE TIME snapping pictures of herself with the toilet or the bathroom mirror in the background.  And she posts it like it was a random quick shot of herself that she took on her way out the door…. we ALL know that she probably took at least a dozen pictures and deleted them until she found the most flattering one. 
CATEGORY 7 – The  Soapboxer
I swear this person walks around just LOOKING for something to fuss about.  Every stinkin’ week, it’s something.  Negativity on steroids!  If you have a problem with somebody or some THING, then do something about it.  Address the source of your frustrations head on. Don’t just keep the FB world stirred up all the time.
CATEGORY 8 – The One Who Can’t Take a Hint               
Hypothetically speaking, if you friend request me and I don’t answer, like for months, and so you delete your Facebook account and create a new one and friend request me again, and I still don’t accept.  Ummm.  Dude, take the hint.  Hypothetically, of course. 
CATEGORY 9 – The Magnum P.I. 
This is the person – heck, I’ll admit it, I am this category.  If I read about somebody getting arrested, I look ‘em up on FB.  If I hear somebody is sick, I look ‘em up on FB.  If someone applies for a job with me, I’m looking ‘em up on FB before I even read their resume.  If my kids mention a new person who might be a potential boyfriend/girlfriend in the future… you got it.  I have to admit, you can tell a lot more about a teen by reading their Twitter though.  Most of the teens these days know that their grandma is on FB, so they keep it cleaned up.  But their Twitter… geez Louise.  That’s a whole other blog.  Don’t even get me started. 
There are probably many more categories.  Feel free to comment and share you own category ideas.  I think most of us fall in at least one of the categories above… maybe even a combination of them.  I’m personally a combination of 1, 5, 7, and 9.   What are you? 

Thursday, August 23, 2012

Kindergarten breakdown

And so we move on to Day 2 of kindergarten....

When I picked Yuri up at school, she was smiling so big.  Before I could even speak, she said, "I had FUN!"  Whew. 

Apparently, Mrs. Stinson plays music when naptime is over so that the kids get up and awake enough to get ready to go home.  She picked one of Yuri's favorite songs today. 

When I say Yuri had a kindergarten breakdown, I mean a BREAK - IT - DOWN.

So, it appears that we are over the kindergarten blues.  What a relief.

(If for some reason, the video doesn't play, you can find it here.

Disclaimer: If your child goes to school with my child and brings home moves like this, I am not responsible.  I certainly didn't teach her.  In addition, I am not liable for any teacher, parent, or aide who attempts these moves and throws something out of place. 

I reckon it takes a lot of energy to dance like that.  It can wear a girl out!


Wednesday, August 22, 2012

Yuri's first day in kindergarten

When Yuri first came into foster care and went to live with the Weaver’s, I remember thinking… they’re so lucky.

When I saw Yuri the week of her first birthday at a soccer game, I thought… she’s the most beautiful baby I’ve ever seen.

When football season started and the Weaver’s brought to the games, I thought… I don’t care if everybody here thinks I’m a baby hog.  She’s adorable and I can’t keep my hands off her.

The first night that Yuri was officially in our home, as our foster child, I thought… This is a dream.  I can’t be so lucky.

Fast forward 4 ½ years… that sweet baby girl with huge brown eyes and dimples so deep you could lose a Cheerio in them, started to kindergarten.

We spent FOREVER straightening hair that isn’t meant to be straight, but she looked fabulous.


She seemed okay at home, but when I looked over my shoulder in the car, she kinda had a deer in the headlights look.


We walked into school and said our goodbyes.  Nobody cried, but Gigi said “I miss Yuri” at least 25 times before 8:30. 

I felt bad for Gigi because she was obviously feeling left out, so I took her for a day in town with mommy.  We hit a consignment shop, the Verizon store, Chic-Fil-A, and ended up our day at Martin’s.  I didn’t really plan for Martin’s to be the last stop, but I could sense Gigi was getting tired.  Most kids get sleepy when they’re tired.  Gigi gets crazy.  Every time someone walked by us in the store, Gigi would say, “A dolla makes me holla!!” in her very best Honey Boo-Boo voice.  Seriously, G?  We have never walked an entire episode of that show (It made me embarrassed to be from the South… I just THOUGHT I was a redneck), but the commercial plays a billion times a day.  So, I quickly paid for my purchases and headed home with my brown version of Honey Boo-Boo.

I picked up Yuri at school and was SO excited to hear how much fun she had!

ME:                        Did you have fun?

YURI:                     Uh, not really!

ME:                        Why???!?!

YURI:                     Well, first thing…you told me they would teach me how to read!

ME:                        Well, baby, not the first day…you misunderstood.

YURI:                     Next thing…look at this MESS! (she pulls her TRAIN notebook out her backpack and showed me a picture of herself that will be on the front of her notebook ALL year). 

ME:                        What’s wrong with it?

YURI:                     My hair! It’s all jacked up!!!

At this point, I’m trying so hard not to crack up.  She’s a drama queen anyway, and apparently kindergarten just took that up a few notches. 

ME:                        Well, did you like your teacher?

YURI:                     Yes, she was nice.  But she can be ROUGH.

ME:                        Rough, huh.  What did she do that was rough?

YURI:                     Nothing.  But I heard she CAN be.


We arrive at home and I tell her to put her tennis shoes up so we don’t have to spend 20 minutes searching for them tomorrow, which apparently reminded her of something else…

YURI:                     OHHHH.  By the way! P.E.!!!  Nobody told me a THING about that.  (she said with her eyes narrowed and using her accusing voice…)

Hmmm.  My bad.  It could have possibly been a subliminal slip on my part, because I know how much the little Diva hates to sweat. 

Who knew that she needed to know every little thing that was going to happen.  Is it because this is child #4 going to kindergarten or am I just forgetful? I don’t remember having to lay out an hour-by-hour agenda for any of my other 5-year-olds. 

The highlight of her day was lunch.  Lunch.  Go figure. She had “a sandwich, some corn, some fruit, and some yummy salad”.  Oh, but, she also threw in… “But I had to drink milk.  Nobody told me about that either!” 

Stay tuned…I’m sure there will be many more kindergarten stories to come!

Saturday, August 18, 2012

I hate vomit...

Just the other day, I was trying to remember at what age kids realize they’re about to throw up and manage to get to the toilet before it happens.  I can tell you definitively now that it’s older than 4 years, 9 months, and 24 days.  Gigi woke up about midnight to tell me that she had thrown up in Yuri’s bed.  I never did figure out if she was sleeping in Yuri's bed or if she was walking past Yuri's bed when *it* happened.  I guess it doesn't really matter.  Anyway, She threw up 5 times in the next 6 hours. 

Me (talking to Hunter):            Gigi threw up 5 times in her bed.

Gigi:                                             Nu uh…one time in Yuri’s bed, 2 times in my bed, one time on my pillow, and one time on my shirt.

I stand corrected.

Friday, August 17, 2012

When good people get bad advice....

Okay, y'all.  It really hurts me to have to write this blog.  I feel like I'm crossing a line somehow.  I've resisted the urge to say this out loud (or in writing) for weeks, but I can no longer keep quiet. 

What the heck is Tim McGraw thinking wearing those white jeans and white t-shirt??? This is one of the most attractive men on the planet (my opinion, of course, but I'm right) but he completely loses whatever it is that draws me to him when I see this outfit.

Okay, not COMPLETELY, completely, but close!

I'm a huge fan.  Huge.  Behind my beloved LG, Tim is my favorite male country crooner.  I've even managed to get backstage for meet-n-greets a couple of times (both blog-worthy stories, but I'll save them).  He's awesome in concert, he loves his wife, he seems like a good daddy, he can act, you never hear tabloid negativity about him...he just seems to have it together, you know? Until he decided to show up in white jeans and white t-shirt.  Am I the only one bothered by this??

Let's look at some previous wardrobe choices...

Why not stick with this look?

Or this one?

This one?

I'd really like to meet the person who woke up one morning and said "Hey, Tim, I think you'd look fabulous in white jeans and a white Hanes."  Seriously??  Somebody needs to lose their job. 

I am curious, though.  Am I the only one who feels this way?  

Tuesday, August 7, 2012

Team Olivia

If you were at Vanderbilt Hospital last Thursday, you probably saw us.  A group of 35+ people scattered in different areas because one area wasn’t big enough for all us.  The reason you would have noticed us is because we were all wearing bubble gum pink t-shirts emblazoned with “Team Olivia” on the front.  We were all patiently anxiously awaiting the birth of Olivia Emerson Alred – a precious baby that, even before being born, had already received more love and more prayers than some people receive in a lifetime.  Being female, she did things HER way and took her sweet time arriving.  Finally, at a little before 11:00 p.m., we got a glimpse at a beautiful baby girl with dark curly hair and chubby cheeks. 

Olivia’s doctors discovered a few months before her birth that she had a heart defect.  To keep things simple, let’s just say that some important parts of her body were not located where they should be.  A few minutes from now, at 5 days old, Olivia will have her first heart surgery.  Nobody except her mommy and daddy have been able to physically touch Olivia, so we haven’t been able to smother her with kisses like we want, but she’s been bathed in prayers and love by more people than I can even count. 
As you go through this afternoon, and the days to come, please keep Olivia and her parents (Jonathan and Emily) in your prayers.  

Prayer circle

Olivia Emerson Alred
7 lb. 8 oz.
Born August 2, 2012

Click on this video for more pictures.  (Thanks, Amy Sherrill, for sending this to me)

Wednesday, August 1, 2012

A Gigi moment...

Yesterday was a busy day for me.  We had volleyball all morning, the social worker came yesterday afternoon to do our yearly home study, and we went to Jefferson County last night to pick out a puppy (yes, puppy...yes, I know I'm crazy...I'm sure he'll make a future blog).  In between all this, I was trying to work.  As in, my job.  A lot of people don't even know I have a job, but I do.  I work from home, but it's still a job and I have to squeeze in time to do it somehow.  Anyway, I was in a rush and trying to answer some work emails while the baby was napping.  Gigi kept being very "needy".  She wanted something to eat, she wanted something to drink, she wanted me to turn her TV on a different channel... and so on.  Every time she needed something, I had to stop what I was doing, lose my train of thought, etc.  Needless to say, I was getting irritated so I told her to go to her room and not come out until I gave her permission.  Well, that really got her started...
"Mommy! Why are you so mean? You're so mean.  I don't like you.  You're mean, mean, mean.  And ugly.  You hurt my feelings.  I'm telling Daddy.  You're mean."


I finally looked at her and said (through gritted teeth - you know, because I'm so mean) "Gigi, I have to work.  You can sit here with me, but DO NOT SAY A WORD.  Do you understand????"

I got preoccupied on the laptop and didn't look over at her for a couple of minutes and when I did, this is what I saw...

That would be Gigi giving me the "loser" sign.  Technically, she wasn't saying a word.  Should I beat her or laugh?