Crying and Carving!



Wordless Wednesday

*Okay maybe a few picture captions

but those don't count.

**Neither does that. ^

***... or this. <




We think Little Man was crying because he didn't have a matching apron... or pants.  ;)





The kids loved the baked pumpkin seeds. 
Jack didn't seem so pleased about it. 

Psst, we used Daily Messes recipe for
the pumpkin seeds. 
Not a single seed was left.  ;)



Passing Down a Halloween Tradition





Turkey and Butterfly recycled from school plays and the always easy Gypsy/Fortune Teller/Hippy 

The last time we paid for a Halloween costume our oldest was about 3 and we bought it a size too big so she could wear it two years in a row.  We even purchased it the night of Halloween so it was super cheap.  Since then we just use the dress up clothes she gets for her birthday or Christmas. 

We now do the same thing for the twins.  I’m marvelously cheap like that.

BUT I’d like to give some credit to my folks who did the same to me.  If I recall correctly I was a Gypsy, Fortune Teller or Hippy (yes… they are basically all the same) a dozen times.  Why?  Because my mom had everything needed in her closet and jewelry box. 

Matter of fact as an adult I still go through her things to find my costumes.   

I tease her that her closet is like Mary Poppins’ carpet bag.  As a professional organizer this drives me nuts.  As a daughter who has learned how to live cheap… I mean frugally… I am very pleased. 

I LOVE YOU MOM!!





Everything pictured came from my mom's closet. 
A Gypsy in the 80's, Hippies in the 90's and even Grandparents in early 2000.  She had us covered. 

When being a lover is a real mother...

 

Like most parents on a Saturday morning, I just wanted to sleep late.  And when I say late I mean 7:00 instead of 6:00.  But it was no surprise that at 6:15 I could hear the kids waking up.  I tried to ignore the stomping down the hallway, the yelling over toys and the bathroom door opening and closing.  I rolled over and snuggled up next to my husband.  It was a cool morning, in the 40’s outside and 60’s inside.  The blankets warm, the comforter pulled up and my husband was gently rubbing the side of my arm and leg.  I could have laid there another hour easily.  But the yelling became louder and the knocking on the bedroom door started. 

I slowly rolled out of bed, making sure I dragged the comforter back in place to try to keep the warmth in as long as possible.  I pulled on a sweater, made my way down the hall slipping on a Hot Wheel and ordered the kids to sit down at the table.  I made three bowls of cereal, three cups of chocolate milk and locked everything back up.  (Refer to 20 Photos Blog.)  And then I told the oldest to keep an eye on the twins so I could sleep a little longer.  Nods were exchanged, kisses on foreheads given and I made sure to dodge the Hot Wheel as I made it back to bed. 



The husband gave me a muffled, “Everything okay?” which I replied to by snuggling up to him making sure my cold feet rested just so on the back of his knees and my hands snaked under his side.  He never flinched.  He’s my furnace in the cool weather and after so many years he’s come to expect it.  It’s kind of penance for me having to get up and allowing him to stay cozy longer.  It works for us. 

The husband and I in 1994.

Married for about 6-months in this photo.

(The Dallas Arboretum.)

Soon after I was warmed back up I could hear the kids fussing again.  Seems one didn’t like the cereal, another wanted to watch cartoons and all of them were cold.  My hope was that they’d all crawl back under their covers and watch cartoons.  I mean, that’s what I would have done as a kid on a Saturday morning, but not the twins.  While the oldest went back to bed with a book the twins decided to eat more cereal or rather, pour the whole family size box of cereal on the table and floor.  And I can tell you the exact moment it happen.  It was right as my husband started gently rubbing my arm and leg again.

I love the touch of my husband.  The way his scarred and battered hands can just glide across my skin.  When strong hands have to slow down to make a gentle touch, you can actually feel the love and cherishing in them.  And knowing my husband still finds me attractive when my size 8 has slowly increased to an 18 and my face no longer holds that youthful glow of a teenaged girl I was when first we started dating… these are moments to treasure. 

And so I did.  I ignored the sounds of messes being made.  I shut out the fighting and then the sharp contracts of stage whispers from kids getting away with things they shouldn’t just so I could have a few minutes to be a lover and not a mother.  I knew the consequences and even hesitated for just a second wondering if I could stop them before it got out of hand… but the idea of losing that moment just so I could avoid a mess seemed silly.  My husband needed and most importantly wanted me… a mess could wait.

The Sunshine Blogger Award

 

Thank you so much Tabitha for this award.  That I am JUST now posting. 

<sigh>  She gave it to me Sunday.  I have been a bad blogger.  Very bad.  :(

 

 

 

Rules:

-Include award logo in blog post and site and thank the blogger who

gave it to you & include a link back.

-Answer 10 questions about yourself that you have made up yourself

or simply list 10 facts about you.

-Nominate 10-12 bloggers for the award and contact them at their

blog site to inform them.

 

Facts about Me:

1. I had 12-years of perfect attendance in school.  I was/am lame.

2. I’ve been to the 48-contingious states.

3. I saw and photographed the Twin Towers 3-months before they fell.

4. I take my coffee and tea with half and half.

5. I’ve read all the fad series like Harry Potter, Twilight, Hunger Games and 50-Shades.

6. I will read just about anything if there is a Jane Austen theme to it.

7. I like just about anything from the BBC.

8. I sit on my feet. 

9. I can’t sleep without lip balm.

10. I chew the inside of my mouth and bounce my legs… all.the.time.

 

Nominated:

1. Banana Clips, Music and Me 

2. You Know it Happens at Your House Too

3. A.D.D. Music Mamma

4. According to Mags

5. Sorry kids, your mom doesn't play well with others

6. Dawn's Disaster

7. Monkeys and Tutus

8. Diapers... or Wine?

9. Happy Little Feet

10. SouthernNortherner

 

 

Trigger Happy?

 

 

Things that annoy me and shouldn’t:  Today it’s Daniel Craig. 

 

 

 

 

Okay not really Daniel <swoon> but the way he holds his gun. 

Stop it!  I know where your mind went. 

Oh… it didn’t? 

Oh good, cause… well… whatever.

So anyway, I was pulling up a few publicity shots for the new Skyfall movie. 

I know… I’m excited too! 

And as I was drooling, I mean, perusing over his photos I came across a lot. And I mean a LOT where he has his finger on the trigger. 

Now, for those who don’t know me IRL my dad’s a gunsmith.  He retired as the armorer for a small police department just outside of Dallas, TX. 

I was given a gun before the keys to my first car. 

I’ve had my Conceal Handgun License since I was 21. 

Heck, I even saw Charlton Hesston at the 125^th Anniversary of the NRA as he gave the, “…from my cold dead hands speech.” 

I know my gun safety.

Because of all that when I see someone try to take a safety off a revolver… hello bad remake of Hawaii Five-0… I never watch again.  (And it was a crap show.)  ;)

I roll my eyes when the gunman in a movie turns his sideways.  Seriously, what’s the point? 

And don’t get me started on the action movies where the oversized weapons don’t cause the shooter even the slightest bit of recoil.  Really?  I know you’re supposed to be a badass, but the guy whom you are portraying in the movie, the guy that actually took the shot that killed the guy that was killing the innocent people… his shoulder moved.  It’s okay… it’s not a sign of weakness; it’s a sign that his focus was on the target and not looking good.

Now, I realize this is lame to some of y’all, but I live with a guitar player… don’t get me started on who is and isn’t really playing in EVERY movie we’ve EVER watched.  And we watch a LOT!

So back to Bond <swoon>, the trigger guard.  That bit of metal just on the other side of the trigger with the serrations… your finger rests there.  I just checked and the Walter PPK and Walter P99 both have them.  No excuses man! 

 

 

Now, who’s taking me to see the movie? 

 

From Russia with Love

I’m still very new to this blogging thing.  Okay, not blogging… I’ve done that since the late 90’s.   Yes, I know some of y’all were still in school.  Hush before I smack ya!  :P

Anyway, I’ve never really paid any attention to where my readers are from.  I kind of assumed they were all American and maybe a few of my friends scattered about the world.  But yesterday, as I was scrolling through my Blogger settings I noticed a Stats tab and looked around.  Most of it is things like your most popular blog.  No surprise it was my recent bird’s nest pendant giveaway.  Another that shows your traffic source which is kind of neat.  (Thank you Facebook for the readers.)  And then there was Audience.  And as expected the majority of my readers are from the US, but what I didn’t expect was that Russia was number two… and by a major lead over the others.

Now, this probably isn’t a big deal, but I’m curious by nature.  Like ‘has scars to prove it’, kind of curious.  But I just can’t find anything that would make what I say appealing to Russians (or anyone for that matter).  So I need help.  If you are one of my Russian readers… YOU HAVE TO TELL ME!!!  I’ve only been on here 2-months and yet more posts have been read by you guys then my other blog that was up for over 2-years.  I must know!!  :) 

...and I’d also like to know if someone has a couch or guest bedroom?  I’d love to travel the world, but I’m a stay at home mom with a small Etsy store.  I can’t really afford the ticket, but if I had a place to stay…

Oh and my husband would have to come.  He’s a big fan of vodka.  So of course that makes him part Russian.  (Not my words, his.)  LOL!  *He’s really Irish but thinks Russian's are badass.  ;)

Because Painting is Easier Than Cleaning...



I’m kind of a big deal when it comes to painting.  I mean like no drop cloth needed kind a big deal. 

Impressed? 

No.

Yeah, I don’t blame ya. 

But trust me, the fact that I can cut in to corners and trim is pretty impressive and really saves time and money on that fancy blue painters tape.

You might be asking yourself, how is it that this chick is so awesome at painting?  I mean, she makes jewelry, blogs, occasionally watches her kids, sometimes helps with homework, once or twice a week cooks a meal… when does she find time to hone her house painting skills? 

Well, I’m glad you asked. 

I practice a lot.  I mean… a LOT!  On my house, on other people’s houses, sometimes clients, virtual strangers… I like to paint.  Okay not really… I like how things look after you paint.  And let’s face it, sometimes painting is easier than scrubbing walls. 

I said all that to say this:  I painted my front door today.

I know, I know, everyone loves a red door... and so do I.
But I like change more.  So we're blue for now.  It's fun dang it!

 





I just colored my hair today. 
Wasn't planning on blue high lights though.

.

..and I know I said I'm good at painting.  No drop cloth, no painters tape, I even paint in my 'street clothes', but I never said I don't get it in my hair sometimes.  <sigh> 



 

Also, since we're down to just one twin this week I've been shopping and running errands.
I know totally AWESOME!!! 
So the past two nights the husband has been fixing up all those little broken things around the house like the bifold door from the kitchen to the laundry room. (I touched up the paint on that today too.) <blows on finger nails>

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

He also fixed the hinges on the console on the couch.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

… and I was nice enough to pick up a new pipe cutter for him to help out with our Etsy shop. 

Go ahead; scratch your head on that one.  LOL! 

<whispers> We use old copper pipes for many of our pieces.  We’re all earth friendly like that.  ;)

 

 

 

 

 

Oh and tonight he’s fixing my bifold door in my closet.  I <3 this house, but bifold doors suck.  Especially with two toddlers.  ;) 

...and you might be asking why the photos.  Well you see, I don't mind shopping for him, but I don't like to return things and I don't always listen to him when he tells me what he wants.  I mean, I try, but really?  There are 50 types of hinges and 100 pieces to a simple bifold door.  I find just taking photos and sending a quick text, "This or that?"  Saves so much time.
Man I <3 Technology!! 

Also I'd like to give a big shout out to the dude at Home Depot who showed me where to find the pipe cutters.  I mean, near the pipes would have been silly to put them.  <eye roll> 

Anyway, it's home improvement week at the Moore Homestead.  Or rather Home Repair week. 

Have I mentioned I <3 my kids today?  I do, I really, really do.  ;) 

Thankful Giving Blogger Roundup Giveaway!

I am honored to say that I have teamed up with some of the best bloggers out there to give back to our readers with this awesome GIVEAWAY! We wanted to give back to all of our wonderful readers with the Thankful Giving Blogger Roundup Giveaway. We want all of you to know how important you are to us. Without our readers and fans, we wouldn't have an audience. Without an audience, our writing would be in vain (**dramatically places palm on forehead***).  

Being November, we decided to give back to all of you and the best way we know how is a GIVEAWAY!!!

There are 4 amazing prizes for 1 of our awesome readers. All you have to do is follow the Rafflecopter at the bottom, cross your fingers, and wait for the winner to be announced on November 12, 2012.

What are the prizes? Well I am so glad you asked!!!

With the holiday season approaching quickly, we thought you guys could use some cash. Yes, you read that right. CASH!!! $200 in cash sent via PayPal. But that isn't it! We are also including a signed copy of an AWESOME brand spanking new cookbook (Carrie's Experimental Kitchen: A Collection of Mediterranean-Inspired Family Meals) that won't even hit Amazon or Barnes & Nobles until December!!! We thought you may need a new apron for this year's festivities, so the winner will receive an embroidered apron. You don't cook? Perfect. You can re-gift this apron to someone who does. Last but not least, the winner will receive a surprise gift! How exciting!!!!

Now that you know what the prizes are,or most of them, what are you waiting for??? 

Oh, and before we forget.....THANK YOU!!!

ENTER TO WIN BELOW! 

a Rafflecopter giveaway

My Not So Relaxing Shower

I made an announcements on Facebook that I was sick and going to shower, put on pajamas and rest… so laughable.  Does anyone actually believe that crap?! <sigh>  I mean any stay at home parent knows you can't show weakness.  Kids sense these things... always.

A 5-minute shower turns in to a knock on the door by the oldest asking if friends can come over, “NO!”  A crying toddler who missed naptime… for like the 35^th day in a row would rather press his mouth up to the door and cry than crawl into his comfy bed.  And of course the youngest child asking for a snack even though she’s already finished off everything in the house.

By the time I rush through my “relaxing” shower and get dressed the twins have passed out on the bed.  It’s 4:30… so late in the day there’s no doubt they’ll either wake up before the sun goes down, or well before the sun ever shows back up.  So I’m in a dilemma.  Do I wake them, and deal with the crying for 3 more hours?  Let them sleep for an hour and deal with the grouchiness for an hour or two?  Or take my chances and hope they sleep through the night… I know…never happen.

Oh screw it!  I’ll take some aspirin, squirt my throat down with Chloraseptic and put the laundry away.  Maybe I’ll even put some make up on so I can go grocery shopping and not scare the poor check out lady.  I mean seriously, who has time to be sick?!  <sigh> 

My Facebook Giveaway!

I promised my new and old friends on my Facebook blog page that I’d give away two custom birds nest pendants when I reached 500.  It was a slow go at first, but today You Know it Happens at Your House Too posted a link on her page and WOW!  I hit my goal in no time.  Thank you YKIHAYHT I'll be making your nest tonight!!!

So once I hit 550 or maybe it’s 560 now… I typed up all the names of those who commented before 5:15 CST; printed, cut the names out, put them in the cutest little basket and had planned on Karate Girl drawing a name once she got home from practice… and then the kids went crazy!!!

Oh my WORD!  Blondie had a diaper explosion, Little Man decided he had to pee… right then… on the back rug, and Karate Girl ran in to the wall while at Tae Kwon Do so of course she needed a little sympathy. 

I just wanted to draw names and cook dinner. 

Instead I had to do a quick change for Blondie and run her and Karate Girl off to the showers… before dinner… this could be bad.  And Little Man had to have a quick bath in the sink; thanks to the husband though fish tacos are almost ready.

 

The Husband ROCKS! 
And yes, he's cooking with wine.  ;)

 

And I was able to draw a name… finally!!

This is the crew, Karate Girl, Little Man (who did actually have clothes on today) and Blondie (ignore the socks).  You'll notice that Superman acted as security to make sure no evil was done... 'course he missed Little Man picking his nose, but no worries, he didn't draw a name.  ;)

 

 

 

 

 

 



 

And the winner is......

 

 

 

 

Virginia Ingram!!! 

Message me on Facebook with your address and how many eggs you'd like in your nest and I'll make and mail it ASAP!

 

 

Thanks again YKIHAYHT, Virgina and all my new friends!!!  Can't wait to get to know y'all a little better and hopefully you'll stick around even after you get to know me and my crew a little better.  ;) 

 

 

 

Chapter One: The First Step

I began this story about 4, maybe 5-years ago. I thought if I started to add it to my blog I would eventually finish it; like an ongoing project. Not sure when I'll have time to write, but I'll make a link and keep building on it. I believe there are 7 more pages. But I've not read past this first part. I guess while I'm laid up not feeling well I'll read over it and post as I go.  :)

 

    

 



 

 Mercy stared at her reflection, her mind wandering to the beauty and simplicity of her rooms.  The rooms she’d be staying in for the next month.  The rooms that, so far, yielded nothing but continued heartache; the rooms… the rooms she foolishly thought would bring her back to life.

Standing up she turned from the little vanity she had been sitting at and faced the room, as if it were her audience.  “I’m sorry.  I’m so sorry for putting such pressure on you.”  She realized how foolish she was being, but it didn’t matter, sometimes just voicing her thoughts helped her release them.  “I promise, for the next…” she turned around to check the small wall calendar by the vanity and glanced at the B & B’s small wall safe where just two days earlier she had stored her few precious pieces of jewelry and her boarding tickets.  “I promise that for the next twenty-eight days, I will NOT try to make this room my hiding place.  I will not blame my lack of enjoyment on the confines of this small space.  I will not continue with thoughts of my past, nor try to figure out what will happen in my future.  From this day on, I will simply… live.” 

 

At that declaration Mercy turned to check her reflection one last time.  This time she made a point to not see the faint circles under her eye from months of crying.  She ignored the paleness of her skin, from shutting herself away for so long.  And she almost felt pretty in her new spring dress.  At that last glance she noticed the gold cross hanging from her neck.  The same necklace she had worn six months ago.  The same one he had made her for one of their anniversaries.  The one she caressed when she thought of him or prayed at night.  She touched it, felt the texture, the warmth that it had absorbed from her body and then she yanked it off.  Today she would forget.  If only for a few hours, she’d forget.

After tossing the necklace on the vanity, Mercy spun around, grabbed her purse and headed out the door of what had been her cave for the past two days, but no more.  Today she had made plans to visit the ruins of an old castle and take the tour of the neighboring church.  This was, after all, the reason she had come to England.  She had always wanted to visit and continue work on her family tree. But in the past the funds were never available and the desire not strong enough.  Truth was the desire still wasn’t really there, but after weeks of phone calls and emails from her family, she knew it was time to get away.  And what better way to leave her past behind, then to study the past of others. 

 

 

*I've made a tab at the top of my page with the continuation.

Moments of Magic

In our hallway hangs a poem.  It’s right above the time out chair.  It wasn’t placed there intentionally, there just happened to be a nail from the previous owners on that little bit of wall space.  As for the time out chair, our oldest and only at the time, thought the spot was perfect for her great grandmother’s telephone bench.  So the two lined up perfectly and four years later they still keep each other company.

The poem is something my dad wrote me for my 18^th birthday, the summer before I started college.  The title reads: Magic Years and it tells of my misadventures as a child.  A piece about my roller skating accidents, melted Popsicles grins, being afraid of thunder and lightning and even a quick tale of me running into a parked truck on my bicycle.  But the last paragraph reads, “If you are as lucky as your Mother and I there will one day be a child that’s the apple of your eye and in distant reflections through laughter and tears you too will discover that magic in those years.”

I remember trying to read it out loud and getting about halfway through and crying.  I couldn’t finish reading it and had to hand it off to my dad, but he was just as choked up and handed it off to my mom who had to finish it for us.  You see, my dad and I do our best to hide those emotions, the ones right on the surface, heaven forbid someone see it as weakness… so we act tougher, work harder and do our best not to say what’s on our mind for fear we’ll look weak behind our tears.  It’s easier to write it down and save the tears for private.  Daddy says it’s the Irish in us.  Isn’t that funny?  If you have perceived weaknesses blame your ancestors.   (He’s smart like that.)  ;)

Present day; tonight actually, I had a glimpse of that magic.  While watching a movie with my husband I heard something in the distance.  At first it sounded like the background noise from the movie.  It was soft crying which didn’t fit and it sounded too much like our youngest.  I had him pause the movie and I went in to check on her.  She’s been running a fever the last few days and though she acts fine during the day, at night things start to hurt; her throat, her head, just a tough time.  So I went in to her room and noticed that both her sister and brother were still fast asleep.  How was that possible?  But then daddy didn’t hear it either.  It’s like that cry was meant just for me.

I crept in the room trying not to wake the others and start the bedtime routine over, but 70-year old wood floors aren’t made for creeping.  By the time I got to her side of the bed and my eyes had adjusted to the darkness I notice her stuffed animal beside the bed so I placed it back in her arms.  She squeezed it to her chest, never opening her eyes, yet still crying.  So sad to hear and see.  I repositioned the covers and pulled the comforter up to her chin and her sisters, still the sad crying.  So I did what any mom would do, I brushed her hair off her forehead, used my lips to check for fever (there was none) and I gave her a kiss followed by a soft whisper in the ear that I loved her.

Before I could straighten up she had stopped crying.  And the other two, whom I hadn’t noticed before shifting and moving, had stopped.  The room was silent except for the slow spin of the ceiling fan and the soft breathing of three kids.  It was magic.  Not the silence we parents plead for after a long day of yelling and fighting, but the kiss.  One simple kiss on a forehead followed by a reassuring whisper of I love you and the room stilled. 

When I went back in to the kitchen to let my husband know all was well and to take the hot tea he had made me I relayed the story.  I ducked my head behind my hair when the tears started to fill my eyes.  “There are so many days I think the stress of raising kids is too much.  And then God sends me a reminder that the rewards outweigh the work.” 

In our kitchen there is a sign that reads: “We do not remember days, we remember moments.”  This will be a moment I remember.  The day wasn’t special, what I was doing before and after I will quickly forget, but that moment when I realized that a simple kiss and whispered I love you held magic in the eyes of my daughter… that will be a moment I hold on to forever.

Shame on Me!

Have y'all seen the mom shaming blogs and photos today?! 

Oh my it's funny!!  Here are just a few I've come across this morning: 

Divine Secrets of a Domestic Diva, Blogging While Mom, Frugalista Blog and from there you can jump around from page to page.  Some had me laughing out loud.  So I thought I'd join the fun.  Twelve pictures later I realized why most of the mom's took the photos solo. 

*Much smarter than me!  :)

 

 

 

First shot and kids are too close...



Little Man is blurry...



No explanation needed...

Both kids blurry and I look like Carnac...

 

 

Little Man just did a nose dive off my lap

and not too happy...

Still not happy...

Bribing with promises of cookies...

Little Man nose dives again...

Reminder of cookies helps steady him...

Blondie gets distracted...

Now the excited screams start...

Two cheesy smiles and a, "I want my cookie."

And yes, there is a punctuation error... I warned y'all!  ;)

I am...

I just read Story of a Girl's "I am..." blog that was prompted by You Know It Happens At Your House Too who saw it on According to Mags... who found it on another blog... etc, etc, etc.  This is why I came back to the world of blogging.  I couldn't stay away from the people.  The sharing of every day life makes every day life more enjoyable.

So here are the rules, sit down for 5-minutes and start with the prompt, "I am...” Don't stop, don't think, don't proofread, and don’t change a thing. Just write down how you see yourself and use it as a tool. Good or bad, reflect on the person you are and come back to it. Whether you use it to motivate change in your life or celebrate who you are... just do it.

The goal is to spread it across the blogging community, but if you'd rather tuck it away and keep it for yourself, then you are welcome to do so. But we'd all love to see how you see yourself and perhaps it will help us see something in ourselves.

Ready, set... OMG no spellcheck!!!!

I am a Christian who makes no excuses, but does make a lot of mistakes.
I am an only child who hates to be alone.
I am a wife who sometimes takes her husband for granted. 
I am a mother to five children: 
Two gatekeepers in heaven that remind me that children are only on loan from God. 
And three here on earth to show me what unconditional love feels like, to remind me of how exciting learning new things is, and to remember that miracles and magic are still possible.
I am a friend who can weather any storm, who will call, text and pester even when no call is returned, no text replied to and one day will show up at your door.  (Be warned.)
I am organized; not sorta, not kinda, but from the thoughts in my head to the folded underwear in my closet. 
I am lazy, so lazy that I use efficiency to make my laziness even lazier. 
I am a fat.  Not the, "Oh my I need to lose 5lbs" fat.   But a, "Oh #$%* I need to unload at least 65lbs!" fat. 
I like food.
I sometimes like excercise.
I like cokes too much.
I don't like water enough.
I laugh at all my own jokes.
I want to be a writer but I'm afraid of failure.
I never quit, I just do a lot of 'do overs'... and I'm okay with that.