There once was a man...

...who said, "No more animals.  Period."  He said this quite a few times.  For a number of years.  Every time the dog puked or peed in the house?  "No more animals.  Period."  When it was time to pay for a trip to the vet?  "No more animals.  Period."  When the dog was given too much popcorn and had horribly toxic, nose-burning gas?  "Absolutely no. More. Animals... Period!"

The man used his 'Tyrannical Ruler' voice each time he said, "No more animals.  Period."  His tone was very deep and grumpy and deadly serious.  And his expression?  Well, his expression said, "Thou shalt not argue with me on this."

His whole family knew what this meant.  The man's mind would not, could not be changed.  The official edict had been sealed with the ring of the king and handed down to the peasants, if you will.  There would be no new pets brought into their household during the man's lifetime.  Not one.  Not ever. 

Not a puppy.  Not a kitty.  Not a hamster.  Not even a fishy.  Ever, ever again.

This decree made the man's family oh, so, very sad.  The idea of never, ever seeing a little boy running around with a puppy nipping at his heels, or snuggling up with a sweet little ball of fur was almost more than the man's family could comprehend. 

"It just can't be," they all said. 

"Oh, YES it most certainly CAN," said the man.

...

...

...

And then...

...

They got a dog. 

The end.

...

...

Kidding.  That's not really the end.  I'm sure you're dying for details on the puppy and how I managed to change the old man's mind. 

Because that's what you spend your day doing, right?  Dying for details about my life? 

Or maybe you're optimistically wondering if our financial situation has improved, since we're taking on the responsibility of a new pet...  ???  That would be a smart and fair question. 

Because it would be ridiculously irresponsible to add another mouth to feed if we're still struggling financially, wouldn't it? 

Yes, yes it would.  And we are.  Still struggling, I mean.  We're idiots.  We didn't pay for this dog, but we will end up paying for her in the long run, of course, and we certainly didn't need to take on an additional financial responsibility right now. 

... But look:

Wook at dat widdle face.

Here's what happened: Mike's girlfriend had a litter of puppies 5 weeks ago. 

...No, that can't be right.  It was her dog, actually.  Mike's girlfriend's dog had a litter of puppies 5 weeks ago.  The gf's dog is an English Bulldog who was seduced by a neighborhood Boxer; a real Rico Suave type, I imagine.  Their night of passion- one fleeting indiscretion- resulted in an unplanned pregnancy. 

Mike got a puppy for free out of the deal and brought said puppy over to show the kids.  This is little baby Marley:

 

And that, ^, is all it took. 

 

You can't look at that face and not want a puppy.  One look at that face and the kids went all gloopy-schmoopy over her.  Marley looks so terribly exhausted and suicidal all the time that you are compelled to scoop her up and try to make her happy.   She plays with your maternal instincts, I guess, even if you are an old man/tyrannical ruler.

 

But...  Sadly, Marley was already taken.  We'd just have to make ourselves happy with liberal visitation rights, which we were willing to do.  And then it was mentioned, so very, very innocently, that Marley had one sister who was still available...  Would we like to see her?

 

"Sure," we all said, "Just for fun (snort).  Bring her over to play and then take her back home." 

 

Michael (my good, sweet son) offered to buy the puppy himself, as a gift for his siblings.  "What could dad say about it if it's not costing him anything?"  He asked.  MWAAAHAHAHAAA!  What a knee-slapper!  I don't know what I think is funnier- the idea that the dog isn't costing us anything, or the thought that Dad couldn't argue about it. Sometimes kids don't know their parents at all, it seems.  Dad could say plenty.  And he did.  But in the end, we had this on our side: 

 

Her name is Daisy.  Try to resist her charms.  I dare you.

 

The naming process we had to go through is almost another story in itself.  What an ordeal that was.  The kids and I (the old man wanted no part of it) narrowed the choices down from about 7 or 8 to the final 2.  Daisy was among the top 4, but did not make the final two.  Those two were "Primrose" (as in Everdeen...  It's a Hunger Games thing), and "Violet."  There were two votes for Prim and two for Violet.  I was to cast the tie-breaking vote.  I would be disappointing two kids no matter what I chose, so I... 

 

asked the old man to decide. 

 

He said, "I don't like either one of those names."

 

Daisy it is.

Photos for Grandma...

A few pics to make the Grandmas happy. These were taken tonight at Tucker's birthday dinner.  Happy 14th birthday, Tucker!  Love you, sweetie!

So proud of this bunch!

Savannah, Alex's girlfriend (soon-to-be fiancee-Yay!), is the blonde beauty in green and BayLeigh, Evan's girlfriend, is the pretty one in black holding Sam.

I swear Tucker's cake was not as pitiful as it appears in this picture.  It may have been a little lop-sided, but after the fresh strawberries, blueberries, and whipped cream were dumped on it, we really didn't care.

Hi

It's been awhile, huh?  Sorry about that.  I'm a crappy person.  There's just been nothing worth blogging.  Everything here is the same.

Did you see Hunger Games yet?  Or do you not even care?  What did you think?  I liked it.  Didn't love it.  Movies can never compare to great books.  But it was good. 

I just read Divergent yesterday (by Veronica Roth) and it's another good YA book.  If you have tweens/teens who go for that whole Dystopian thing, check that one out!

Look what I have.  A precious treasure:
:

ALL TEN KIDS, same place, same time!  This was one of the outtakes, but it's probably my favorite.

The whole fam damily is here :)), except for one grandchild. :((

Back row: Evan- 18, Mike- 20, Alex- 21, Kyle- 26, Nick- 32, Katie (DIL, married to Nick). Middle: Tucker- 13, Kindra- 30, Keagan (Nick's son), Olivia- 12. Front: Jaden (Kyle's daughter), Kinidy (Kindra's daughter), Some Fat Chick- 45, but looks 53 cuz she's just. so. tired, Avery (Nick's daughter), Braden (Kindra's son), Darrell- 107, Sam- 3, Brianna- 11.

It's very rare to get all 10 kids together. It just does not happen. The kids planned this as a special, surprise kinda thing for their dad. Isn't that awesome?

As long as we're showing photos...  Evan, who is about to graduate, just got a haircut. That little tidbit is thrown in for the grandmas, who think Ev looks like a hoodlum. He went from this:

To this:

 What do you think?  Less hoodlum-ish?  I think he looks younger with shorter hair.   That's his girlfriend, Bayleigh, by the way.  The boy has lost his mind over this girl.  We don't know her that well yet- she's very quiet- but she seems sweet.

Anyway...  Sticking with the photo theme, you know what drives me nuts lately?  I guess it's not what but who...  It's these idiots on Facebook who constantly take and post photos of themselves.  I can't stand much more. 

The pics themselves are not necessarily offensive- as far as being raunchy/immodest, inappropriate, etc.(although some are)... There's just too flippin' many of them.

I want to be as clear as I can possibly be when I say I hate these people like I hate enemas, root canals, 3rd degree burns, spiders, poison (and Poison) and this guy:

Do you guys have any of these self-obsessed morons on your friends lists?  What's the explanation for these people?  Why do they exist? 

To you, Obnoxious Photoholic, I would say (you know... if I had any guts):  The fact that you believe you're that attractive makes me want to smack you with a tube sock full of nickels.  You are the Zoolanders of Facebook.  ...Oh, look! There you are with your sexy pout. And here you are with a mysterious, brooding thing going on. And here's your serious, contemplative pose. Why, you're just a regular sage, aren't you? There's your smoldering, intense gaze...   Oooh.  You're stunning.

And each shot shows you either standing in a mirror, holding your phone/camera, or your camera-wielding arm is held up and out at an odd angle, making you look even more like a dufus. Trust me.  You look dufus-y enough as it is.

PLEASE, hear me:  You look exactly the dang same today as you did yesterday. Put the camera down. Get yourself checked into some kind of program. Take the 12 steps. Find a sponsor.  Whatever it takes. Please. We're all sick to death of the sight of you.   

I have one person in particular on my friends list who is making me especially cuh-razy with this. And it's a man (no, not the hub).  I have grown to dislike this guy so much, that I think it's affecting my religion. Honestly. Jesus is mad at me, you guys, because I detest this guy over something as trivial as a batch of photos. I should just delete him altogether. But he's a relative (no, not one of my sons), and I'm afraid I'll miss important info about him. I've stopped looking at the pics, though. I feel like a horrible relative, but I just can't do it anymore.  I'd show you the pictures (you'd be shocked and awed by the total assy-ness of the guy), but then I definitely would be a horrible relative. 

So, I won't. 

I really, reaaally want to, though.

Locks of Love 2011

I'm obnoxiously proud of my sweet girlies. We mailed off two beautiful braids today to Locks of Love. This is Olivia's 2nd year to donate and Bri's first. They both look really cute with their new bobs, but I'm willing to admit I'm a wee bit biased.

To begin with...

Okay.  The "boy" I wrote about in the last post?  I had a couple people (including my mom) email me privately to mention how young he looked.  Way to make me feel old, friends and neighbors.  People, please...  That dude is in his 30's.  Like, only 12-13 years younger than me.  Big whoop.  That's not even a Demi/Ashton age difference.  I think my rockstar may even be married and have a kid or two. 

I also do not believe that an occasional glance at the opposite sex is wrong.  I tell my husband this all the time.  He is free to glance at Halle, JLo, or Brooklyn Decker.  Who wouldn't?  Besides...
1.  If Mormons can glance, I figure, so can I (and I happen to know for a fact that Mormons glance.  I won't say how I know, or mention any particular Mormon by name... *cough, lookingforgeorge, cough*). 

2.  Philippians 4:8 says, "Finally, brothers and sisters, whatever is true, whatever is noble, whatever is right, whatever is pure, whatever is lovely, whatever is admirable—if anything is excellent or praiseworthy—think about such things." 

I have thought about some abs that are truly lovely, admirable, excellent and praiseworthy, so that's 5 out of 8.  And I always give God all the glory and thanks for the beauty of His creation.  So...  there you go.

I have a very strict policy:  I only look if they are 21 and older.  It's my personal code of honor.

Okay, that's a lie.  But, if they're under 21, I just take a brief glance at the abs and move on.  Really.  Okay, brief-ish.  But I don't give the face time to become engraved in my mind.  That's what separates the Normals, like me, from the Pervs.  Just a peek at the abs.  And pecs, maybe.  Okay, probably pecs, too.  

Oh, that reminds me of a funny story...  A few years ago, I was on one of my exercise kicks.  These come around approximately once a decade when I will buy whatever exercise program is currently being schlepped on some late-night infomercial.  I have so much optimism and motivation when I order... and then the box arrives. 

It gets put under my bed, usually unopened, until I can clear a good exercise space. 

I've never cleared a good exercise space.

Sooo...  a box of DVDs, with those big rubber band thingies, etc., was recently pulled out from under my bed by a curious 2 yr old, and a poster from inside the box was opened up and left lying on my floor (the poster, which I'm assuming was included for motivational purposes, has a ripped, tan man on one side and a woman who must have sold her soul to the devil- because her body is just too dang good- on the other).  The poster was lying with the man side facing up. 

Evan and I walk into the room.  Evan sees the naked, tan torso of a man.  The first thing he thinks of to say is, "Oh, Mom (all disappointed-sounding, like I'm 5 years old and just peed on my Easter dress)...  Tell me you didn't.  Please tell me that is not a Taylor Lautner poster."

How do you spell that little breathless noise you make when you're really exasperated?  Because that's the noise I want to spell right here ___________________. 

What is with you people?  Does everyone think I'm a perv?  Gee whiz.  You mention one kid's abs and one rockstar and the whole world goes nuts.

I'm offended.  Deeply hurt. 

Okay, not really.  I couldn't care less.  I ocassionally take notice of man-boys.  Deal.  I'm a fat, Chaz Bono-looking, dangly, old, wrinkly house frau, with no evidence of my once-hot former self.  It's not like the man-boys are looking back.

Onto other topics, shall we?  Before I either get depressed about my pathetic, desperate, wrinkled, be-Chazzed state, or get another email from Mom (kidding, Mom.  Love getting emails from you). 

How about a little Sammy Story to finish this post?

Sam loves Reese's.  LOVES them. 

But he can't say 'Reese's.'  He calls them 'Feces.'  It's so funny to watch him hop around when he spies the package, then hearing him say, "Feces, Mom?  Feces?  Feces!!! Mom?  MOM?!?  Yaaaayeeesss! FECES!" 

Today, I gave him a bite of a Feces and he said, "That's good, Sir!"  Hahaha.  Gosh, I love that boy.

I think Obama read my blog... And other uninteresting thoughts

He kind of stole borrowed shared a few of my sentiments when he spoke at the memorial service tonight.  Only they sounded much more Presidential when he said them.  I do believe it may have been the first time B.O. and I have been on the same page, or even the same book.  But then again, it would be pretty hard for him to mangle a speech like that.  If it wouldn't trigger my gag reflex, and possibly bring about the apocalypse, I might even say he did a pretty good jo...  Aw, jeez... I can't do it.  I just threw up in my mouth a little.  He did, um... not a bad job. 

What did you think?  Did you watch the memorial service?  Any opinions?  I have a feeling my Dem friends had a few opinions about yesterday's post that they respectfully chose to keep to themselves.  Purely out of love and admiration for me, of course.

(You know I'm just kidding about thinking he stole my comments, right?  Just checking.  Sometimes I wonder if people get the smart-assery involved in 97.6% of what I say.  And it's not like anything I said was all that deep and/or original, so I suppose it's possible Obama's speech writers could have come to the same conclusions on their own.)

In other news...  I have a kid turning 19 this Saturday (Happy Birthday, Michael!  I love you, you Army-bound idiot!).  I asked him what he wanted for his birthday, and he answered, "Cash."  Not a sentimental one, that guy.  One year at Christmas, he even asked me to forgo buying stocking stuffers for him and just give him the money I would have spent on them instead.  At least he's consistent in what he wants. 

We've had an interesting week with Michael.  I'd written in a previous post that Mike had moved out several months back.  He was sharing a house with another guy.  They weren't exactly close friends- just housemates.  Mike viewed it as a great opportunity to get out on his own.  Last weekend, Michael called his dad asking to move back home because his roommate had been arrested.  Oh, yay.  Just what every parent wants to hear.  Thank God the police were somehow aware that the "friend's" illegal activities didn't involve Mike, or the other roommate they had recently taken in.  Maybe they'd been watching the kid for awhile, or something?  We really don't have a lot of details.  So...  Mike is temporarily living back at home, until he goes to basic training in February.  I'm currently living in denial about that.  I seriously can't believe this is really happening.  I think he does the official swearing in thing on Friday.  Ugh.

Michael is such a headstrong guy.  I love him to pieces, but once he decides something, that's it.  Nobody is going to stop him.  He gets that from his dad.  I guess that's a great quality when you're not doing something that will make your mom sick with worry.  I do admire and respect what he wants to do.  I just hate it.  I hate it!!  When it's time for him to go, I fear I'm going to be one of those embarrassing moms, clinging to him and sobbing, "Don't take my baby!  You can't have my baby!"  I'll make a huge arse out of myself and it will be another fond family memory.  ...Good times.

Alex has also been with us this past week, so it's been kind of nice having all my boys around again.  He is between jobs- his last one was seasonal help at Target to tide him over until he starts with UPS, and that job doesn't start yet, so he's spending some time down here with us.  He's also back with his girlfriend (YAY!!), so spending time with her may also have just a tiny bit to do with him wanting to be time closer to home.  I adore her.  I think I've said that already, too. 

His girlfriend, Savannah, is so, so precious.  She's one of those rare girls who is gorgeous on the outside, as well as being beautiful on the inside, too- such a sweet, precious, genuine heart she has.  She's crazy about the girls and Sammy.  And Sammy is crazy for her. 

Our visit to the Marines recruiting office with Evan has been pushed to this Saturday.  We didn't end up going last weekend.  So, it's going to be a busy Saturday, with going to the used car salesman recruiter, then rushing around to get Michael's birthday dinner ready.  I also have to get out to grab a little birthday gift for Savannah, since she and Mike share the same birthday. 

I hope the weather warms up considerably in the next few days before I have to do all this running around.  We finally got some snow here, and went from temps in the 50's down to 2 degrees.  Ick.  With a wind chill of -11.  Next Monday is supposed to bring freezing rain.  More ick.  the ice storms we've gotten the last few years have been brutal- leaving us without power for days.  I hope that doesn't happen again this year, but I guess I should stock up on supplies and be ready for that possibility.  Then, maybe next weekend, I'm relocating to Hawaii.

What do you have going on this weekend?  Anything exciting?

A Goodbye

Hope you all had a great Christmas.  I know we did.  Too great.  The amount of gifts under the tree this year made me sick to my stomach- a total obscenity.  And I take all the blame.  The overspending... the gift gluttony... my fault.  All of it.  Darrell would be happy to give everyone a 5 spot and a nice, shiny apple and be done with it.  I, on the other hand, get a little carried away.  I try to buy each kid as many items on their lists as we can, then...  I always want to buy "one more thing."  I don't know why I do that because I can't stand overindulged, spoiled children (meaning those belonging to other people, of course- not my own.  I love my overindulged, spoiled children, for the most part).  I also become overwhelmed and forget what I've already bought (my closet gets so stuffed, you can't see what's in there), so one kid (or two... or three...) winds up with more than the others.   Instead of returning a few gifts to even things out, I go out and buy more for everyone else.  Some part of my brain forgets that I'm not a Trump or a Hilton.  Next year, we are scaling back.  I mean it.  No, really.  I do. 

Onto a different subject...  I think I'm done, guys.  Blogging, I mean.  I've run out of things to say.  My daily life is...  what's the word?  Busy? Boring? Hectic?  Mundane?  SoincrediblyuninterestingthatnobodywouldwanttoreadaboutitwhilealsobeingsounbelievablybusythatIdon'thavetimetowriteaboutit?  Yes, that's it. 

The funny thing is that I never intended for this to be anything other than a way to keep family updated on our adoption, our kids, and a place to post pictures.  Now that my blog has actually become that, I don't wanna do it anymore. 

For awhile, I thought I was just having a little block.  Then, I thought it was because I got sick for so long and wasn't getting out of the house enough to have anything to say.  But... no. 

I just don't have anything left to tell you that I think you'd want to hear.  My stories have been told, my insights revealed (um... insights?  Where were the insights?), and my jokes are beyond stale.

So...  I think I'm done.  To the two of you still visiting:  Thank you for sticking with me and I'll miss your comments.  I've made a few "friends" through this blog who I truly wish I could know in real life.  You know, they have that new email thing now, I hear- so hopefully we can still touch base from time to time. 

I thought I'd leave you with a few of my favorite posts.  These were fun to write and also fun to go back and re-read.  Here are my top five favorites. First, the funny (at least in my own estimation):

5. Has the Whole World Gone Nuts...? (During my super fun time belonging to the VN Yahoo Group craziness)

4. Last Sunday's Adventure

3. Today on "Survivormom" (During our famous ice storm/ power outage adventures)

2. Spanx are a Tool of the Devil. 

And this one has to be the Number One.  It's what this blog was created for:

1. ... BIG News!

 I hope you had a few favorites, too. 

And also...  A few last pictures of Sam.  He was the reason for this blog in the first place, so it seems fitting to end it with his beautiful, funny face.  Sammy, I love and adore you (your whole family loves and adores you) more than words could ever say.  No amount of blogging could cover it.  You have blessed our lives and enriched our family beyond measure.  You were most definitely, without a doubt, worth the wait. 

From yesterday (Our first Christmas morning with The Samster):

And a few pics from today.  Sam loved his first time playing in the snow!

To all of my children,
I hope you know that no matter how many sarcastic comments I've made about "putting up" with all of you, or how "terrible" you are... or the number of jokes we constantly hear from others for having "this many" kids,  I wouldn't trade my big family for anything.  Each one of you is a miracle to me.  I honestly never thought I'd be so blessed.   Having you has given my life meaning, purpose, and value.  You are my life.  I love you, I love you, I love you.  I hope this blog will be a place you can visit later on down the road to see what your nutty old mom thought about things, but mostly I hope that as you read it, you will take with you the knowledge that you enriched my life in countless ways.  When you look past the jokes, the complaints, and the sarcasm, I hope you'll see in these posts that: You are loved.  You are wanted.  And you were (are, always will be) my everything. 

Love,
Mom

Happy Birthday, Sam!

Today is Sammy's first birthday! Sam, we are so thankful for you and we love you with all our hearts!  Happy birthday, my sweet boy!

The least messy cake-eater I've ever seen.  I don't think he liked it.

He did like gift-opening time...

Sammy wasn't the only one who enjoyed his new toys...

Who needs college when you have blocks?

Kyle came over tonight to see Sam, too, which was nice.  Been a while since I've seen him.  He's too skinny-  Needs to come around more often for home cookin'. 

My handsome little cowboy on his new horse.

And...  A few from Halloween that I never got posted:

My Mad Scientist, Beautiful Princess, and Tired Mommy

And one from my birthday...  My kids are so sweet to me.  Yes, that's me under the silly string.  Their father was behind this.  I will get him back.