Powered By Blogger

Thursday, May 17, 2007

sent to me by email


"Why my lips stayed chapped on Mother's Day"So, we had this great 10 year old cat named Jack who just recently died. Jack was a great cat and the kids would carry him around and sit on him and nothing ever bothered him. He used to hang out and nap all day long on this mat in our bathroom.Well we have 3 kids and at the time of this story they were 4 years old, 3 years old and 1 year old. The middle one is Eli. Eli really loves chapstick. LOVES it. He kept asking to use my chapstick and then losing it. So finally one day I showed him where in the bathroom I keep mychapstick and how he could use it whenever he wanted to but he needed to put it right back in the drawer when he was done.Last year on Mother's Day, we were having the typical rush around and try to get ready for Church with everyone crying and carrying on. My two boys are fighting over the toy in the cereal box. I am trying to nurse my little one at the same time I am putting on my make-up. Everything is a mess and everyone has long forgotten that this is a wonderful day to honor me and the amazing job that is motherhood.We finally have the older one and the baby loaded in the car and I am looking for Eli. I have searched everywhere and I finally round the corner to go into the bathroom. And there was Eli. He was applying my chapstick very carefully to Jack's . . . rear end. Eli looked right into my eyes and said "chapped." Now if you have a cat, you know that he is right--their little butts do look pretty chapped. And, frankly, Jack didn't seem to mind.And the only question to really ask at that point was whether it was the FIRST time Eli had done that to the cat's behind or the hundredth.And THAT is my favorite Mother's Day moment ever because it reminds us that no matter how hard we try to civilize these glorious little creatures, there will always be that day when you realize they've been using your chapstick on the cat's butt.

Wednesday, May 09, 2007

Oh Mr. Sheep

Never leave me Mr. Sheep. I love you so much! I could gaze lovingly at you forever!

Tuesday, May 08, 2007

8 years



It occured to us today that we have been married 8 years now. How could we forget such a thing? Trust me it wasn't hard. Ahnies tummy hurts (all night) and Rose doesn't like to be left out. I'm not sure we would have even remembered if I hadn't needed to write the date on a paper for Roses school. So heres to us darling may we have many more.

Saturday, May 05, 2007

Cloth Diaper Comebacks

Clever Comebacks: From The Diaper Jungle

"Yeah, it is a pain to haul them down to the river and beat them against rocks, but it's worth it."

"Well, I save $1500.00 a year so I laugh myself to bank every Friday."

"I don't know it just seems silly to me to wrap $30.00 a week in a plastic garbage bag and throw it away....but maybe that's just me."

"What do you mean you don't have time for that? You don't have time to change your baby?"

"Oh right, washing poo off of cloth diapers is an inconvenience but if we don't then we have to wash poo off clothing, crib sheets, car seats, carpet, couches, etc. because of leaky disposables. I think we picked the easier path."

"Well, diaper duty is never fun but I sleep well at night knowing my choice doesn't involve thousands of pounds of poo wrapped in paper and plastic and stuck in the landfill for hundreds of years to come."

"Would YOU want to wear paper underwear?"

"Well, my child doesn't have diaper rash anymore so I guess their comfort is worth it."

"Oh, we have just chosen a more natural, less chemically produced, lazily dependent upon modern conveniences style of parenting that's all."

"She has a big butt you say? Well, SHE is wearing a cloth diaper underneath her clothing? What is your excuse?"

"I wouldn't wear a portable toilet on my backside so neither do my children."
Disposables diapers are the definition of wasteful, and we don't want to start our baby's life that way.

I don't want to waste my money on what will essentially be garbage...I would rather that money go into my child's piggy bank.