"Wordless" Wednesday is Back!



Happy Baby smiling for the camera

  

Big Girl holding her sippy cup and eating all by herself!

Ham 'taking a spin' with Momma on Uncle Bud's motorcycle

Taking a different kind of spin.

TWIRLY SKIRTS ARE AWESOME!

Smooshy loves her cousin and Aunt Jen

Momma, I'm so funny!

Drooling like a Rancor about to get its next meal

You Know Your Child's Father is a Programmer When...

There are many different reasons you can be completely shocked and embarrassed by what your kids say.

Reason #1: Your child tells anyone standing still long enough about some intimate detail of your life (i.e. You still suck your thumb; you pick your nose...and eat it; you wear holey underwear; all you feed your kids is McDonald's, etc.).

Reason #2: Your child repeats something she's heard from a t.v. show you watch religiously (or a movie you saw on Netflix)...Or she tells people WHAT you watch by saying, "Momma loves when so-and-so make out after a big fight." Eeep! (People, DON'T let your kids watch adult shows, please. I won't get into whether or not I think ADULTS should be watching some shows....)

I digress...

Reason #3: Your child repeats things that come out of YOUR mouth that shouldn't be said OR repeated...(Unless you have the unfortunate experience of your child bursting out to your pastor, "Momma said the 's' word!" And you have to explain that the 's' word is 'stupid,' hoping he believes you-BECAUSE IT'S TRUE, NOT BECAUSE YOU ARE LYING TO COVER YOUR TAIL!).

Then there are times when you are shocked that something comes out of your kid's mouth because it's genius.

If you have ever read my blog, or you decide to back-read it, anyway, you know that Ham is a genius. At least, I think so. She's a clever little girl, at any rate. And it's apparent that her daddy THE Genius has explained a bit about computer programming (one of his specialties) to her.

Here's the scenario:

Ham is dancing around the living room 'holding' her 'brother's' hand (her new imaginary brother). At one point, she begins looking around and says, "Oh, Brother is not here anymore!" She flits over to my computer and sees a drawing (Poog) I was working on minutes before she got to my house and says, "Oh, there he is!" And at this point, she pretends to grab her brother's hand and lead him out of the computer.

My sister and I smile at each other and my sister asks, "How did your brother get inside the computer?"

At which Ham nonchalantly says, "Oh, he coded himself into the computer."

My sister and I about fell out. He CODED himself....

All the sudden my sister and I were having flashbacks of The Matrix.

Brilliant. Baby. Girl.

Still such a HAM!

You've Come a Long Way, Baby

I just had to make a quick journal entry about Ham's new dainty ways. (Side note: I will not say "girly" to describe dainty behavior after reading the definition of girly, which says, "Weak, timid, or effeminate. Used of men.") No...don't like that much.

So, Ham is dainty...yet unbelievably tough. People often look at me with surprised loathing when Ham sprawls out after tripping over something (usually her own feet...much like her momma) and I barely bat an eyelash. She's just too much rough and tumble for me to react to every little stumble or fall. I'm not mean, I just know her.

So, indication #1 that she is becoming more dainty: She is now into bows. She likes to carry them around and she won't take them out of her hair if we put them there. (A big IF, because I usually don't think to accessorize her, although I do think it's adorable.)

The true test of daintiness (def: Delicately beautiful or charming; squeamish), came this morning when I was not paying much attention to Ham. I knew she was looking out of the window waiting for the neighbor's cat to make his appearance, so I didn't think much of it when she started whining as if to complain. I thought, "OK, she sees something she wants, but can't get to it. Or Tux (the cat) hasn't shown up yet." (I usually ignore whining unless she says, "Momma" and then signs 'help.') The whining soon increased and became more of a whimper. Before I thought to look, she began a pitiful sob and I could tell she was in some sort of pain.

I walked over to her (I try not to react 'violently' to her possibly, already painful, circumstances) and asked, "What is it, baby?" She stood there with tears running down her face, clutching a ball in one hand, whimpering and sobbing as if frozen with fear. Since she was standing in between the kitchen table and the window, I thought, "Oh my gosh, she really hurt herself." I thought maybe she banged her head on the table or something. I even scanned her free hand, now frozen with shock against the window, to make sure she hadn't gotten it stuck somehow.

I looked around and it only took a second to find the source of her horror.... A light brown, inch-sized cockroach. Still living, although barely moving, twitching its disgusting, whiplike antennae toward my baby girl.

For some reason, I began to mimic her horror and took great offense to this parasite...Ok, technically, it's not a parasite. I rushed to her aid with a paper towel that just so happened, thankfully, to be on the kitchen table and crushed the intruder. Ham looked up at me with almost as much horror as the roach's appearance had etched across her face. I almost felt bad for the little bugger...hahaha...the roach...bug.

I went against my usual compassion for anything living and did not feel bad for killing the nasty pest, but instead, said to Ham, "It's OK Baby, Momma got it. It's gone. It went 'bye-bye.'" I took it and flushed it and when I came back, Ham was still frozen, wide-eyed. I think she was just as surprised at her reaction as I was.

I held out my arms and she gave me a big hug and then toddled off to her basket of toys. It was as if nothing ever happened.

Today's reaction to the roach was a far cry from the reaction I saw on her face about 8 months ago.... The one I remember was an expression of immense satisfaction, as two little roach legs were dangling out of her mouth.

She's come a long way.

Guess who's using the potty???

So, Hubby has been trying to convince me to try and potty train Ham for quite some time (having read several articles on infants being able to be potty trained).

I knew the fact that babies in other countries do NOT use diapers and are able to 'go' in designated places outside their homes by the time they are 8-9 months old. Ham's 14 months old, so, why not.

Welp. She's doing it. Seriously. Since about two weeks ago, every time you put her on the potty, she strains a little, goes and then gets the biggest smile on her face. The cutest part? She'll sometimes reach over and tear off some toilet paper and rub her leg with it, then throw it behind her. SOOOO funny.

And, last week, she poopied on the potty for the first time. I just about fell over. She went #1 and I was about to get her off the potty and she clenched her fists and screeched a protest, so I was like, "OK, you're not done." Then she pushed a little and plop, plop. Too much information, I'm sure. I don't care. My 14-month-old can poop on the potty.

So now, she can wear training pants (not pull-ups, mind you...real cotton training pants...without that nasty rubber diaper cover) for hours at a time as long as we take her to the potty once every 30-60 minutes. Weird.

Here's a picture of her triumph...and a few just for fun in her undies.

Always, with the tongue. And holding Elmo for reassurance.

Not a care in the world.

Ok, yeah, so I'm wearing hand-me-down, BOYS, training pants from my 2nd cousin, Vinny. AND!?

If I didn't know her better, I'd say she was flaunting it.
OK, this is just TOO Grandmom McLeod. Hahahaha.

Now we're just waiting for her to break out in a Risky Business-type dance. I can see it now, Hubby and I are innocently eating breakfast and Ham comes skidding into the kitchen with socks and undies on, complete with plastic mixing spoon in hand, belting out Twinkle, Twinkle Little Star.

She's a little more modest than that, it seems...when she knows she being photographed. Although, there is a reason I dubbed her "Ham":

Just Found Out That I Got Tagged...

Hubby is working from home now and sets up his computer in front of my computer, so I rarely get online anymore...especially during the day. And who has the energy to stay up late at night to surf the Net...oh yeah, my husband. :)

Anyway, with that said, Allyson 'tagged' me 21 days ago and because I haven't been keeping up with blogs, I didn't know it until now.

I'm requested to write about 6 things that make me happy. Here we go...in no particular order.

Like Allyson (who has twins that are five days older than Ham) sleep, in any shape or form, is one thing that makes me very happy. Unfortunately, I don't think I will ever be able to sleep as good as I did when I was in my first trimester with Ham (I would literally pass out and it felt so good).

Family. Oh my goodness. I don't know what I would do without my dad, Augusta, mom, sister, Michael and the kids. But then there is Hubby's side of the family which is about 100 people total (that's just aunts, uncles, cousins and the grandparents).

The sunshine. On days like today when it's a really nice 58 degrees, but misty rain is coming down and the sky is that whitish gray, I would love to see the sun peak through. Spring is my favorite season. I always feel more alive, positive, and open-minded in the spring.

Animals. From little squirrels chattering and chasing each other on our deck to the majesty of a lion or the playfulness of a dolphin, animals have always made me happy. Kittens have to be my favorite domesticated animal, but you probably won't catch us ever having a pet. (A FAR cry from when I was growing up and said that when I was older, I wanted a pick-up truck and three dogs in the back).

Laughter. When I see anyone laughing, it makes me happy. I love laughing at myself and doing dumb things or saying really off-the-wall things and then realizing it was pretty funny. I love to hear babies laugh. Of course, I think my daughter's laugh is the most beautiful and joyful noise I've ever heard.

Dreaming. Now this can be tricky. Ask anyone close to me and they can tell you I have some pretty strange, always vivid dreams. However, I still think they are the coolest things to try and decipher and it's really neat to see how everything you've been thinking seems to play out in a dream. For instance, the other day I finished a book Brisingr, had just read a bunch about this new movie made from a best-selling book of the same name Twilight and had just watched Harry Potter and the Goblet of Fire. (As you can tell, I have a certain favorite genre, fantasy/adventure). So, anyway, I dreamed about vampires (Twilight) who could cast spells (Potter and Brisingr) and rode on dragons (Brisingr). I thought it was cool. Weird, but cool.

And, I have to add a 7th thing that makes me happy because the sixth one reminded me that there is nothing like a good book. I love to read and always have. Nothing sparks my creativity and imagination more than a good fiction book. I like non-fiction, too, but it's not the same.

OK, I tag Mer, my sister, and Emily G.

When Can I Proclaim "Genius in the Hiz-ouse?!"

No, I'm not talking about my husband, Genius #1. I am talking about Ham, formerly Peanut, presently One-Who-Amazes-Us-Daily.

Every mom thinks their child is a genius, I know, I know. I'm no different than the biased mom who thinks that a child who can count to three is a prodigy, even when they find them with half a roach hanging out of their mouths. (They know good protein when they see it!) LOL

Everyone that is close to us knows we teach Ham American Sign-Language. She has a sign vocabulary of about 20 words and can also speak several different words. I've said that before. So, to reiterated, we know that signing is not hindering her speech as some studies and sceptics say. However, I tend to forget that not all children are taught signs and that it's still kind of rare. However, for us, it has become a way of life. Not to say that we aren't still enthralled with our little baby girl, but her communicating her needs and wants with us has become second-nature and I forget that some people will think it's weird or cool that she can sign, "More fish crackers, please."

For instance, we have an uncle, Fun Uncle Anthony, that still makes jokes about her and asks her, "Hey, can you sign, 'I want to eat my head'?" He's hysterical. At his house this past weekend, he was routinely making fun of us for teaching Ham all these things and making her a 'freak' and his little baby boy (who is 6 weeks older than Ham) did a sign. I said, "Look, look! See, he can sign!" Uncle Anthony (kidding, of course) mockingly said, "Yeah...'chicken'. Great." We just all started laughing.

However, we are surprised when Ham takes the initiative in learning new things or pointing out things we have not taught her. Here is a twist-tie that she picked up yesterday while Hubby and I were talking:

Now, correct me if I'm wrong, but to me, it's a twist-tie. And when Ham had it in her little hand and started to put it in her mouth, I said, "Whatcha got there?" She immediately, without hesitation, signed "fish." I took the twist-tie from her, and saw what you now see in this picture above.

OK. I mean, I know it looks like a little fish, but...HOW does a 13 month-old put that together? They really are smarter than we think.

GENIUS!

Next, we're setting up ink-blot tests. LOL

NOTE: For those of you concerned that Hubby and I may be forcing this stuff on our precious child, please be aware that Ham walks up to us and signs "Baby video" when she wants to watch the sign language video we rented from the library and she gets giddy when we understand what she is trying to communicate. She's a girl. She wants to be heard. :)

Ham's Birthday Party

Wow, what a great time we had! Thank you to all who were able to come out and celebrate a year of Ham's sweet, little life. The party could not have gone better and I know she had a blast. Hey, if she can stay up from 1-6PM without even fussing, and still managing to giggle and open presents, then I know she is having a good time.

The only thing that didn't quite work out as planned, was the cake. If you remember, I had said it was supposed to be a blue and purple butterfly. Well, when I got to Wal-Mart, they told me that the cake I ordered was under Disney copyright and they couldn't do it without all the Hannah Montana paraphernalia. Then they said, "Oh, and btw, we couldn't do yellow cake (didn't give me a reason why), so it's white cake instead."

OK. Yeah. Could've called me to tell me these things. I started to stress a little more when I saw that the cake was a GAUDY hot pink butterfly with weird purple markings and a black body with orange dots. It sat not-so-daintily on a brown branch. At least they did a cake, though!! I thought they were going to say, "So, we couldn't do a cake for you." Now that could have been a small coronary. (Please know that I'm kidding. There are much bigger things in the world to worry about, right?)

However, I decided that if I was going to let this stress me out, I just had better call off the whole thing because it wasn't worth the rising blood pressure.... That is to say, I just smiled at the bakers, said, "Thank you for your time and energy. I'm sure it will taste great (and it did)" and took the high road.

Let me just say, the old me would have not been so gracious. Knowing that Jesus is my Lord and that people really do the best they can (most of the time), and knowing that it would not fix anything if I blew my top, it just made letting it go a little easier.

Nevertheless, I am a paying customer, and my daddy taught me not to be a doormat, so I phoned the Wal-Mart bakery and told the head baker that a call to the customer is always necessary when making changes to someone's order. In turn, for my graciousness, they apologized and said I was right. They thanked me for calling this to their attention.

I really would have taken a gift certificate for $25 in groceries or something. I hope they know that. :) They did give me a 'baby cake' (one that Ham could mess up) for $.01, so that was cool. (I think they do that for everyone, though.)

Here are a few pictures of the day:

Ever since we bought our new mattress and got a Mylar balloon from Mattress King, Ham has loved balloons. And to think, she used to be afraid of them!

Enjoying the twins. I heard Ham was feeding them goldfish crackers.

She didn't quite know what to do with the cake. Mommy helped by placing her hand in it. Then Ham proceeded to try and feed it back to me. She seemed concerned about her hands being messy.

We greatly appreciated so many of our friends coming out to celebrate with us. I think our friend The Minister (the guy on the left) took as many pictures as Genius has in a year!

We were especially excited to see Andrea and Wendy, who were passing by to put a beautiful flower arrangement on their mom's grave. Thank you for even thinking about us! We pray for you all daily.

Ham was especially good at opening presents. (Must be from all the practice she's had with ripping up Mommy's magazines.)

Ham with a pink Mr. Hoot Hoot and a Kiss-Me Elmo.... I think she has already gotten the hang of the kissing part! And she kisses Mr. Hoot Hoot every night before bed. AWWWWWWWW.

And what would the party be without my 2-year-old niece instructing Ham in the many ways to eat candy? I'm not sure if my niece is tattling on her at this point or telling everyone that Ham needs a diaper change.

I am in the process of editing a video of the party, but for the time being, I hope you have enjoyed the pictures.

Thanks again, everyone, for making the day just perfect!

This is dedicated to my three moms, two dads, sister, Grandmom and Granddad McLeod, Grandmama and Dzia Dzia, Alicia for coming all the way from NASHVILLE, Allen and Nikki Moore for coming from Georgia with TWO kids in tow, my sister's and brother's-in-law (Can't wait for Ham's new cousin to be born!), my nieces and nephew, our macho guy friends who still like babies, Uncle Jeff for making homemade strawberry ice cream HELLO!!, and all the friends we love so dearly.

And to Gwen Brobst (Andrea and Wendy's mom).

She would have really liked being there.

YAY! The Office is back!

Oh my goodness. Ok. I do not watch much t.v. at all. When I say that, I don't mean that I watch three shows and follow E.R., Heroes, or House. No. What I mean is that I will occassionally and randomly turn the t.v. on and catch the last 10 minutes of Merv Griffin's Crossword or I will stumble across the Antique Road Show and be dumbfounded that a wooden vase shaped like a duck can be worth over $10,000. I don't even know when these shows air...I just happen upon them. That's how I watch t.v. And we don't have cable, DIRECTV, TiVo (I wish) or a HD t.v.

I'm not bragging here. I really like t.v. I'm no tree-hugger (not that I have anything against hippies) and I don't shun television. I LOVE LOVE all the Discovery Channels and could sit and watch Baby Story every day (I used to do that before Ham came along). I don't like commercials, though.

However, let's get back to the reason I am blogging about t.v. in the first place.

I DO know when The Office comes on...NBC, 8PM Central Time on Thursday nights. The new season starts this Thursday and I have asked my husband to promise me that he will be home in time to help me put Ham down to sleep so that we can watch The Office together. That's how important it is to me. To us, really.

I'm serious when I say that this show makes me laugh like no other show I've ever seen. It's stupid. It's ridiculous. There is nothing like it out there. And I love it.

Sometimes I am like Michael Scott...and that scares me, but also makes me laugh. Sometimes I am like Pam or Angela....or...ugh...yes, even Kelly (but not often).

Michael Scott says the dumbest, sometimes the most politically incorrect (OK, he ALWAYS says the most politically incorrect thing) a person can say. Yet, somehow, everyone feels bad for him. He always comes out being supported by his employees. Like when he 'outted' Oscar. Or his stupid reason to get back together with Jan and then you actually feel sorry for him when Jan uses him. (Insert 'foliage' here.)

And then of course, there is Jam. Pam and Jim.

I've gone on way too long about this, but it's the only show I have been excited about in a long time. FRIENDS doesn't even compare...and I still have fond memories of Rachel, Ross, Pheobe, Joey, Chandler and Monica.

So, my husband liked this show first...and for that reason, I gave it a shot...that and the copious amounts of pain medicine I was on, trying to recover from surgery.

Back when I thought it was another reality show (I really did thing it was a documentary), he liked it. Back when I shunned its stupidity, he encouraged me to give it a chance. He's the reason I am obsessed with it now. Thanks. No, really. Thank you. :)

It got me through 6+ months of the most excruciating pain I've ever felt (besides labor) after Ham was born. It kept me laughing when I feared the words Necrotizing Fasciitis, surgery, and more surgery. It helped me nurse Ham just one more time than I though I could bare. And now...Ham loves the intro music. She can literally sit through an entire episode of The Office and I'm in the process of weaning her. Hurray!

I don't know how I feel about that...either of those things...her liking The Office or me weaning her.

I'm telling you now...do not call on Thursday nights between 7:45 and 9:15. We will not be available to anyone...unless you are from Dunder Mifflin, The Scranton Branch.

Ham is 11 months old!

YAY! Wow, Ham is almost a year old.

She has grown so much and then again, she's still just a baby.

I could have never imagined what a joy my own child would bring. I have fiercely loved my nieces and nephew with all of my heart. I would do anything for them. I would lay down my life for them. I have also loved the kids I baby-sat for in the last 10 years. I have become so attached to other people's children that I cried when I had to say good-bye.

When I look into Ham's eyes, I see my heart. I am so in love. She is the funniest, wittiest (yeah, yeah, she can't even talk, I know), most brilliant, sweetest baby ever. I love everything she does...even when she is crying or whining, I love her. Even like her a lot. I love her voice. I love everything about her squatty (my sister's coined word for Ham), chubby, silky-soft body. I love her open-mouth, a-little-too-wet-kisses. I love it when she pats me on the back while I cradle her in my arms. I love it (and it breaks my heart) when she cries out, "Ma ma ma ma," if she doesn't want to go in her crib. I love watching her discover EVERYTHING. I love discovering things all over again through her eyes.

If we have another baby, I can't even imagine loving them as much as I love her. But I know I will. My sister told me so. And she's really, really smart. She had the same thoughts, the same fear, "How can I love anyone as much as I love my first?" Then she had her little boy and she fell in love with him, too...and with her second little girl after that.

I know each parent feels the same way that I do about their children. I know that every aunt and uncle love their nieces and nephews as their own children. To all of us, however, the love for our own flesh and blood is unmatched. It is what it is.

So, anyway, we don't know what we're doing for Ham's 1st Birthday, but I'm sure it will involve family, friends, cake and ice cream, NO PRESENTS (I hope, but know she'll get some), and lots of pictures and laughs.

Here's what Ham learned to do for the first time on September 8th...her 11 month 'birthday.' (What DO you call that, anyway?)

And a Child Shall Lead Them...

Friday I got the pleasure of taking care of two boys (Tornado 4 yrs. and Little Bear 17 mos.) that I used to babysit for on a regular basis. The youngest of the boys, Little Bear, was actually born while I was still caring for Tornado and his older sister, Princess-with-a-Smidgen-of-Dirt (now 7-years-old).

The mom, Her Awesomeness, called me in the middle of the night and said, "OK, Baby is coming (They had yet to find a name for him). You ready to come over?" I was the 'go-to' girl and had agreed to come over to watch Princess-with-a-Smidgen-of-Dirt and Tornado, no matter what time of the day, when the mom, went into labor.

BTW, I walked in at midnight all frantic, concerned that it had taken me 8 minutes to get there and afraid I'd find her on the floor pushing Baby out and it'd be my fault. However, Her Awesomeness, smiled and ushered me in the door while she was having a contraction. That kind of calmness happened for the next 30 minutes while her husband got things all packed and ready. She'd be talking and say, "Oh, hold on," walk over to a piece of paper and right down the time and duration of the contraction, and then say, "ooo, that was a strong one. OK, anyway, I was saying...." CA-RAZY! Make a note, that I was 3 months pregnant at the time and thought, "Man, labor's not so bad!" HAHAHAHAHAHA

So, anyway. Her Awesomeness asked me if I'd come to the rescue once again and keep the boys before MDO started this week. Of course, I said, "YES!" right away. (I am very naïve and will jump at taking care of kids...no matter how many.) She asked me if I need to pray about...insisted actually, but I knew my answer would still be 'yes.' I didn't know what it would be like with two babies (one walking, one crawling) under the age of two and one very energetic little boy.

So, I headed off to her house at 8:00AM after a 7 o'clock appt. with the chiropractor...I'm naïve, but not stupid! Of course, this meant that Ham had been up since 6:45AM. That's really early for her. By the time we got done at the chiro. she was ready to go to sleep. However, once we got to Her Awesomeness's house, Ham was excited and wanted to play.

Within an hour of Her Awesomeness leaving me with Tornado and LB, my chest began to tighten. LB could not contain his love for Ham and was tackling her every chance he got. Ham would crawl about two feet and LB'd be crawling right behind her and then tackle her legs in a bear hug. Ham would lay there, immobilized, arms splayed out and probably staying as quiet as possible to make LB think she was dead. It didn't work...he only tightened his grip and then Ham would let out a whimper.

This went on all day. Poor Ham. She was no worse for the wear, but she was exhausted from playing 'dead' all day.

Anyway, when it was time for Tornado and LB to take a nap, I put LB down and Ham and I went to read Tornado a story. I asked Tornado to pick out a book and at first, he wanted his Bedtime Bible stories. But then, he said, "No, no. I want this one. This is the Bible." Before handing me his Bible, which was a pocket-sized one with the tiny writing, he said, "Here I'll pick out a story. Please read this one." Tornado was instantly transformed to I'm-the-Calmest-Boy-Ever.

When I looked at the story he was pointing to, I almost said, "Let's read a different one," but decided, it's the Bible. It's really OK to read the Bible. :) It was the story of Pontius Pilate sentencing Jesus to be crucified. As I began telling how the Jews were yelling, "Crucify!" I'm-the-Calmest-Boy-Ever (a.k.a. Tornado) said, "I know what happens." I asked, "Yeah?" He said, "Yes. They take him up a mountain, to a cross, and these soldiers play a GAME to see who gets Jesus' clothes and then Jesus DIES." I was astounded. I said, "Yes, you're right, baby. And Jesus forgives them." He nodded and said, "I know dat. And he came back to life in just two days." I said, "Three days." He said, "I know dat." :)

As I laid him down and covered him up, holding Ham in my left arm, I wanted to weep. How incredible. He gets it. At least, he knows it to the extent that a four-year-old can. And he is not questioning it to be true. To him, it's fact. It's not a fable or a story of a good teacher. It's Jesus, the Son of God. Who died for us because we need him. We do things like gambling for a dying man's clothes. We're mean sometimes. And Jesus wasn't like that. He was always good. Tornado knew that it was preposterous that Jesus 'DIED' while men mocked him.

I love children.

Craig's List and Black Widow Spiders

Wednesday I took on a new venture. Mine started off as the 'uncertain outcome' kind. However, it turned out to be, "An undertaking that is dangerous, daring, or of uncertain outcome. A business enterprise involving some risk in expectation of gain," as well.

What could I do that was so dangerous, you ask? Well, I decided to sell some things on Craig's List. OK, 'decided' is a loose word for what I was trying to do.... Just hear me out.

First, a little background for you: Husband and I went through FINANCIAL PEACE UNIVERSITY several years ago to help us not only get out of debt, but to attack the root of why were were in debt in the first place. (Well, I can tell you that! All you have to do is max out (my bad) 13 department store credit cards while making about $400 a month. Seriously, I was am an impulse buyer...still am at times.) I did this before we were married.

This $100 Financial Peace program we did at our church really tackles the habits people create and myths people buy into concerning money. Financial peace is 20% head knowledge and 80% behavior. That is so true, because most of what we learned we knew, but didn't have the personal skills to execute it.

We paid off about $4700 in the 13 weeks we were attending the class. Now that's REAL peace-giving! Besides, the class was so much fun! Dave Ramsey is hysterical and I really felt proud of myself rather than condemned. We had finished paying off all of our credit card debt in 4 more months (about $15,000 in 7 months). We were ecstatic...and still married (an important fact)!

So, now we're on the cash-flow (notice I refuse to say 'budget') system where you take out an allotted amount of money at the beginning of the month and put it in corresponding envelopes (i.e. $200 for Groceries, $30 for Cosmetics, $20 for Toiletries, $30 in individual Blow money (spend on whatever you want) , etc.)

Well, we are still trying to get the grocery envelope figured out now that Ham is eating more solids and prices have sky-rocketed. Here's where pawning selling stuff comes in for me.

I had finished off all the money in the grocery envelope the week before. Well, we still needed bread, milk, Gerber Graduates meals, and eggs. Basic stuff. So, I had a dilemma, right?

I got my wheels turning and began thinking about how to make some extra money. (BTW, this is cheating on the envelope system. It's supposed to be that when you run out of money, you're out. And no 'borrowing' from other envelopes. It creates accountability.) The up side is that we need to talk about putting a little more money in the Grocery envelope next time so this doesn't happen again.

ANYWAY, I thought about this Dogloo dog house the previous home owners left two years ago that's just been sitting in our back yard. It was in perfect condition, but just dirty (I had no idea). I went online and researched the price of these things. OK, for a large one like we had? Over $100. Sometimes more. So, I listed it for $50. I didn't really know if anyone would buy it, but hey, worth a shot, right?

Within 45 minutes, I received an e-mail asking if the Dogloo was still for sale. STILL? I had barely enough time to get ready for the day after I had listed the thing! I'm not complaining. I was elated. She said she didn't want to pay $50, though. I asked her how much. She said $35. I asked, "If I cleaned it really well, would you pay $50?" Ahh, just what she wanted to hear. It was sold in under an hour.

Unfortunately, this was also the day I had a doctor's appointment with a new doctor and it took 2 hours! Ham and I got back with only an hour to spare before the lady was going to show up. Ham was asleep in the car, so I left it running with the A/C on (haha...inside joke) and after detaching the base, proceeded to roll this MASSIVE and heavy thing out of the backyard and into the driveway.

Here I am, rolling it, and every time I can see inside, I think,
"Was that..." roll, "Did I just see..." roll, "OK...great."

Halfway, I realized there were spiders inside the dog house. Lots of them. I gingerly finished rolling it and then turned it over to look inside. My stomach kind of knotted up. I counted eight spiders. Not to mention the 4 inch long, 1/2 inch wide millipede...I'm not kidding. GAAA-ROSS! (That's Southern-speak for 'gross.')

The reason my stomach knotted up was because I thought the spiders looked familiar, but I had never seen one in person. I went inside and looked up 'poisonous spiders' and yep...they were black widows. Eight of 'em.

I debated on whether or not to finish the job, but I bucked up, rolled up my sleeves, and grabbed three different bottles of cleanser.

The Mister Clean just made them mad. The Scrubbing Bubbles didn't phase them...they would just crawl lazily out of the foam. However, the Fantastik w/ Oxy Power did the job...sorta. They were at least immobilized.

I then stood back and blasted them with the hose. It took thirty minutes to get those suckers to stop clinging to the side or racing back up to the top when they would break free from the streaming water. I finally had to get a sponge and wipe out the webs. They were really strong!

After all was said and done (Ham woke up crying just as I finished), the Dogloo looked like new and I thought, "This was SOOO not worth $50. I should have asked for $75." ;) I mean, I could have been killed! Next time, I'll sell it 'as-is' and not run out of money in the Grocery envelope!

Well...I couldn't have let someone ride home with a dog house full of Black Widows, right?

BTW, yes, I did frantically change out of my wet and sudsy jeans, brush my hair a million times (and wash it) and continue to swipe at my skin the rest of the day thinking there might be a spider on me!

A place to learn and grow

So, this is a place I can call my nuthouse home. I seriously need a way to get out what I am thinking and also to make fun of myself. Blogging isn't new to me...well, I did a LiveJournal about 10 years ago and have misplaced what the name of it was. However, as I write this, I have the http://www.bloggingbasics101.com/ website open to help me along. (Hence the ability to cross things out. Woo-hoo.)

I am excited. This is a time of my life where I have about three hours during the day in which to relax do laundry, cook, clean, run errands, use the bathroom, shower, and if I am feeling really adventurous lazy, I can paint, draw, and now...blog!

The other hours of the day are mostly spent taking care of and playing with my sweet baby Ham. If you haven't understood where the three hours 'down time' come from, that is when Ham is sleeping.

I am 32 years old, a wife of almost 5 years, and a mother to a 9 month old little girl. I am also an artist and a writer, but those things have taken the backburner for years until recently. I am in the process of bringing those things back to life. It's very fun.

I love my family, I love my kid, I love nature, beauty, helping other people out, and my God. I am not very good at loving any of these things. I have trouble remembering to call my family, I get irritated at Ham's whining, I don't recycle, I eat too much junk food, read those dumb gossip rags, I don't help other's out enough, and some days I forget to talk to God all-together. I don't know why I use the word 'love' if I can't prove I love all these things.

I just know that I do and that I would be nowhere without any of these things...except the beauty part. However, I find beauty to be everywhere, not just in the conventional things like tan gams, rock-hard abs, celebriosity, and flowers. I think the homeless man is touching and beautiful. I find beauty in helping an elderly lady find Depends on aisle 3 of CVS so that she doesn't have to be embarressed about asking an 18-year-old male clerk, and there is something about my nephew coming inside smelling like a 5-year-old should and covered in sweat and dirt.

So, come join me on my jour....oh, Ham just woke up. Gotta go!