Bring. It. On.

We didn't go to San Antonio for the entire weekend for the state twirling championship to NOT bring home the bling, friends!

Three full days of competition... multiple events... a number of costume changes... two overnighters in a hotel... and...












Two very excited little girls who ROCKED their routines!



Libby placed third in her open solo (first competition!), and she did a GREAT job. She looked adorable, was all smiles for her judges, and declared that she wants to do another competition. And soon.



Josie placed 'top five' in her open solo, and won THIRD PLACE in her pageant (a combination of her scores in modeling/ poise, strut/ march, and solo twirling routine) Which, by the way, is not really a 'pageant', in the traditional sense. Or the 'Toddlers and Tiaras' sense. (Have you *seen* this nightmare?)

Anyway, I digress... Third place, people!! In her division. At the freakin' state competition.




Now if you're not in the 'twirling world' (and why would you be, really? Unless you like sparkly outfits. Because there are quite a few of *those* in the twirling world ;), you might not understand how big of a deal that is for a girl that has only been competing for 3 and a half months. It's huge. And that's not just 'mommy pride' talking. Really.

She has already promised her Uncle Chris free tickets to the Texas games when she becomes the feature twirler for UT. ;)

Thanks for the good wishes sent their way, the phone calls to check in, and the text messages of congratulations. We are pretty proud of both of them.

And what, pray tell, is a brother to do during all this?

Well, Davis was a trooper, and enjoyed his run of Freeman Coliseum. And if he wasn't running up and down the stairs, taking Libby on 'an adventure' (her words), or sitting next to his Dad making comments while Phil was videotaping ("C'mon, Josie! No drops!!")... well, he could usually be found here...






A little Super Mario Bros. can make even a twirling competition seem tolerable. ;)

Interesting(?) things about me...

Okay, maybe they’re not *interesting* in the strictest sense of the word…but you guys know me, I like to ‘over-share’.

1. I can wear my contacts interchangeably. I know!! Sooo interesting! My prescription is the same (or close enough, I guess) that my doctor told me it was no big deal if I got them mixed up, and put them in the wrong eyes.
Which I have to think is just one more example of God’s infinite wisdom. Because He *knew* those kids would be forever charging into my bathroom while I’m trying to get ready for the day, and that mixing them up (the contacts… not the kids) was bound to happen.

Now if I could just remember to not lean in toward the mirror to check out my eyebrows while I have my toothbrush in my mouth (nothing like bristles applied directly to tonsils), I’d be all set.


2. I’ve discovered that if you step on a paintball in your bare feet, it will pop like a sunnuvab*tch. Don’t ask me how I know that. Or how I know that said paint will require a hefty dose of Spray & Wash to salvage your favorite khaki shorts.


Or how I know exactly what a certain little friend will be getting for *his* next birthday. ;)


3. My kryptonite? Ugly feet and untrimmed toenails. Renders me speechless, and triggers my gag reflex.


4. When SOMEONE (no names mentioned) changes the channel during the commercial of a show that I am watching, I can feel my blood pressure start to creep up. And then when that SOMEONE says, “I’m just checking the score… I’ll turn it right back!”...

Well, let’s just say, “Hello, SOMEONE?? That’s not helping.”

5. I like to diagnose my aches and pains on WebMD. However, I don’t recommend it for anyone else. It can make you pretty neurotic. And I *might* be inclined to think that it is having that effect on ME...except for the fact that I never would have KNOWN that I was afflicted with Peruvian Jungle Flu (twice!) without the Internet.




Okay… your turn. Tell me one random thing about you, so I know I'm in good company.

Just in case you were going to ask how the summer is going...

In terms of the kids enjoying being out of school, having no homework, and having fun with all of their summertime activities? It's all good

.

In terms of them getting along with one another, being kind to each other, and building great relationships that will last them into their adulthood?



















Not so much. ;)

Oh, those summer nights...

Last night was ‘Swim Team Night’ at the Dell Diamond. We wore our Marlins t-shirts proudly. And big surprise… I took a picture.






It was one of those ‘theme’ nights that are undoubtedly devised to get the proverbial ‘butts in the seats’, with the promise of cheap tickets, dollar hot dogs, and the chance to get beaned in the noggin by a homerun hit.

The kids had a great time, being part of the parade of swimmers, led by the mascot, Spike, and getting to hang out with their friends.



Oh, and did I mention that there was actually a baseball game at this baseball game?!!

The girls were far too busy hanging out with their friends to pay attention to anything other than… “Oh, look at that cute little bird that’s sitting on the field! I hope those balls don’t hit it!” (I couldn’t make that up. Seriously.)

Davis, on the other hand, was glued to the action… mitt in hand, ready to catch one of those homeruns. My little crackhead that can’t sit still for two minutes can sit through 9 solid innings of a baseball game. (there *are* nine, aren’t there?! Admittedly, I’m far more like my girls in that respect. ;)



Oh, and speaking of photo ops… (um, yes we *were*.)

The Dell Diamond is just chock-full of cute places for a picture. And my kids are usually pretty good sports about these pictures. Usually. They’ve actually learned that the quicker they get to their assigned spots, smile on command, and refrain from giving each other ‘bunny ears’, the quicker we can move on.

In this picture, they just jumped in with the cardboard cutout, and struck a pose. No prompting from me, other than, ‘Go stand over there, and I’ll get your picture!’



Well, ACTUALLY… no prompting other than telling my five year old to take her hand off the pitcher’s ‘junk’ about 10 seconds before I snapped this photo.

Me: "Honey, move your hand down! You’re not supposed to touch the cardboard cut-out!" (especially in such an…er…inappropriate fashion.)

Libby (one hand on hip and the other hand fully on cardboard crotch): "I’m just leaning on it!"

Me: "Well, don’t, okay? Because…um…you’ll knock it over. And that would just be… uncomfortable."



Try explaining that one to stadium security. ;)

It sure ain't three weeks ago, is it?

Ah, how I long for three weeks ago. Why?

Allow me to paint a picture for you.

It’s 5:00 in the morning. I tiptoe into the children’s rooms, and gently nudge them awake. Excitement is in the air as they literally JUMP out of bed, and throw on their swimsuits in anticipation of their VERY FIRST SWIM MEET!!

Breakfast is eaten, bags (which have all been packed the night before) are loaded up, and we are on our way, with all three kids chattering excitedly in the back of the van. Among the first to arrive, the kids get settled into the tents for their individual age groups. And outside of watching their events, we don’t really see them much over the course of the day.

They are too busy with their friends. Too excited to even think about wandering over to the tent we’ve set up to hang out with OUR friends, and to try to escape the blazing sun. Too nervous to eat, much less ask for money for snacks from the concessions stand.

And when we get home from the meet? After sitting in the sun for hours, and swimming 5 events each? Well, the very same kids trudge, slack-jawed, back into the house, and collapse onto their beds, barely able to remember their own names. And the whole family naps, blissfully, for a couple of hours in the air conditioning.

Fast forward to swim meet #3.

I tiptoe unto their rooms, and gently nudge them awake.

Nudge…Nudge…Poke…

Lights on…

“Time to get up, guys!”

(silence)



“NOW!! C’mon! We’re already running late!”

So, it’s a little harder to get them up. No biggie, right? And those bags that were so meticulously packed? Well, this time, I’m just hoping that everyone has a clean towel, swim goggles that aren’t busted, and that Libby’s swim cap has made its way back into her bag after she used it to haul pool water for the ‘lake’ she and her friend, Hannah, built while they waited for practice to start on Friday.

And during yesterday’s meet, it seemed like every time I looked up, there was a kid in our tent, asking for a snack. Or more likely, asking for a dollar to go BUY a snack. Because everyone knows that the snack bar's snacks are far superior to anything that Mom brought. Even if the ‘Mom in question’ baked homemade chocolate chip banana bread and made mini bagel sandwiches prior to the swim meet. I mean, I’m just sayin’.

Who can blame you if you’d rather have four bags of Skittles?! Because, um… obviously.

Don’t even get me started, though, about the afternoon. When we got home from the swim meet? Well, let’s just say that I think the kids have quickly adjusted to the physical demands that would leave any adult stumbling and babbling incoherently from exhaustion.

Who am I kidding? Just being out there, sitting in the shaded tent, leaves me stumbling and babbling incoherently from exhaustion. So, this time around, the only people who were slack-jawed and in desperate need of an afternoon nap? Me and Phil.

The children had the energy of ten men, and were wired beyond all reason, completely unable to settle down for an afternoon rest. I blame the Skittles.



So, with the progression of the swim season, I foresee even fewer naps on my horizon. And even more money for pickles and snow-cones at the concessions stand. Not to mention, a few morning grouches (me, included).

Dear ‘three weeks ago’… I miss you already. ;)

Lola as a carnie...

Don't even ask.


Tell me she doesn't look like a miniature Italian wrestler. Or the 'strongman' at the circus.

Doesn't everyone wear black electrician's tape for a mustache while they are wearing their swimsuit and swim cap?

No?

Attention, World:

Henceforth (because that sounds so official and all), my youngest child has requested that she no longer be referred to as 'Libby'.


She would prefer to be called...



(Wait for it)











"Something cute..."








"Like... 'Lola'."


Little Lola Linson?

I told her I would call her 'Lola', but only if she would call me 'Tater Tot'. It was my best effort to come up with the most ridiculous name possible on such short notice (plus, I was hungry, I think.)

I knew she would refuse to call me Tater Tot, and we could commence with calling her by her real name. I told her if she liked, that I'd call her Elizabeth. But Lola?!!


So on that note...











Tater Tot will see y'all tomorrow. ;)

Yet another thing television has ruined for me...

Flipping channels this evening, I stumbled on the show, “While the Children Sleep”. I thought to myself, “Self, pay attention! We could use some new ideas!” (because I do occasionally address myself as ‘Self’. Why yes, I do.)

So far most of my things to do “while the children sleep” include: folding laundry, drinking wine, and hanging out with the hubster. Oh, and of course, we can’t forget: going to bed early. Because while those children *do* sleep, they also wake up at the @$$-crack of dawn.

But turns out this is a movie about a live-in babysitter who concocts a plan to ‘off’ the mother of the children. Whaaaaaat?? Why? Well, I admit… I didn’t actually watch very much of it after I figured out that it wasn’t a ‘how-to’ of insanely interesting things to do after your kids go to bed… but my best guess is so she can live happily ever after with the husband.

If you ask me, the little psycho hasn’t really thought this one through very clearly. Get rid of the mother?! Who does she think will do the laundry? And the chauffering?? And bake all those cupcakes for the end of the year cake walk?? So far, the babysitter has the EASY gig.

And if this particular babysitter is anything like some of the ones *we’ve* had in the past… well, that husband had just better prepare himself to live in a household where the children refuse to go to bed at all, much less actually *sleep*, and where Play-doh just sits drying out in clumps on the kitchen table. I speak from experience on that one. I think putting away the Play-doh was one babysitter’s Kryptonite.

I guess it should have been a clue that the movie was on the Lifetime Movie Network. If it’s not ‘The Notebook’ playing on a seemingly endless loop, then it’s a movie about a woman who discovers that her husband has a double life, and is trying to have her killed. And all the while, she manages to look impeccable, even in the face of her uncertain future. Chinos, v-neck sweater, tasteful jewelry, and impossibly natural highlights only accentuate her haunted features. ;)

Out of curiosity, I flipped to the next hour’s programming to see what was on tap on good ol’ Lifetime… and, no joke, it was a movie called, “The Babysitter’s Seduction”. Yep… The. Babysitter’s. Seduction. (I couldn’t even make that up.)

So, that settles it… I can’t ever hire a live-in babysitter. Not that we have the cash flow for that kind of thing, anyway, but now it’s *really* not an option. I’d always be looking for signs that she wanted me dead so that she could drink my wine, and seduce my hottie husband.


Thanks for the ‘heads-up’, Lifetime.

Little Picasso

Libby drew this picture for me to hang on the refrigerator.
It is a picture of her, her siblings, and some of her cousins.



Isn't it nice?



Isn't it... er... 'detailed'?

When I asked her what they were wearing in the picture, she said, "Hula clothes!" (Ah yes... I noticed the grass skirts.)


So that would mean that... those are... ummmm.






ohhhh... they're...COCONUT SHELLS!!







Thank the Lord. ;)

Oo-la-la!

Josie: I need to learn some more French.

Me (surprised): I didn’t know you knew *any* French.

Josie: Well, I can say a couple of things. I learned them from a book. But I should probably learn more.

Me: Always a good idea to learn a new language. But do you mind if I ask why?



Josie: For the guinea pigs.



Me: Um… okaaaaay?


Turns out that she read somewhere that guinea pigs (which are not ‘pigs’ and are not from Guinea… go figure) were brought to Europe by traders in the 16th century. She then made the (logical?) deduction that there was a good chance that our guinea pigs’ ancestors were raised in France.

Which, I guess, would explain their fondness for croissants and their penchant for being rude to tourists.


Josie: Anyway… they MIGHT only understand French.

Me: You think?

Josie: Yes. So, last night, I told them ‘Good night’ in French. Which, by the way, is ‘Bonne nuit’. (Which… by the way… she pronounced: “Bonn newt”)


Me: What happened?


Josie (shrugging): They just looked at me.


Me: Ah, I see.





Sooo typical of the French. ;)

A close call.

Whew... that was a close one. Thought I wasn't going to actually be able to get onto the website because my 'cookie has been disabled'.

I don't even know what that means. But it sounds painful, and it probably happened after kid #3.


My cookie is disabled.

Or out of commission. Either one.

A word of advice:

If you just happen to be out running errands one day...



And it just happens to be lunchtime...


And you just happen to have your children in the van with you...



And one of those children just *happens* to be an almost 8 year old boy...



I do *not* recommend asking him where he'd like to go to grab a quick bite of lunch.








Because he might just HAPPEN to say...

















"Hooters."

The Very Dirty Dog

by: Davis

Age 7


"Once there was a dog.
He was dirty.
No one wanted to buy him.
One day a girl came in.
She wanted no other dog but him.
When she got home she wanted to name him Stinky.
That's a dumb name said her mom.
Her dad said, it's her dog.
So she named him Stinky.

They became best buddys."



I think we can all learn a little lesson from this. Namely, that even if you *are* a little stinky, you still deserve love, too.

Oh... and if Mom says, 'No', just ask Dad. ;)

The summer is upon us...

Here it is, officially ‘summer’ in the Linson household. Day 2. And I just haven’t grown weary of this yet… “What is there to dooooo?”

The end of the school year was fast and furious. And frickin’ exhausting. All those parties. A preschool graduation. All that crying. (Shut up. I’m sentimental. *You* try sitting through that slide show without tearing up. I dare you.)

Here’s the cutest little graduate to come along since her brother walked across that teensy little stage, just a few years back...







Was *she* sad? Heck no! She got flowers and a Zhu Zhu pet out of the deal. AND the yellow gown and the ‘silly hat’ means that she now gets to go to Kindergarten. There is no downside for her.

Me, on the other hand?




Well, I’m adjusting. Or I’m not. But at least I have the whole summer to get used to the idea of my baby heading off to ‘big kid school’.

An entire summer to get ready for the inevitable tears on the first day of school.












And I’m not talking about hers, of course. ;)

Talk about 'luck'...

It was bound to happen at some point. Especially considering that a certain 5 year old has discovered a new love for the rhyming word.

We rhyme everything these days. Everything, sneverything, beverything, heverything. Okay, I admit, many times the words are nonsensical and made-up. But they rhyme, dammit! Slammit… hammit… clammit…

And sometimes those rhyming words? Well, they’re all *too* real, friends. And they’re all too real, in my van, driving to dance class today.

Libby: My eyes must be tired.

Me: Why?

Libby: They’re doing that ‘jumpy’ thing.

Me: Oh yeah? Are they twitchy-witchy?

You know what’s coming, doncha’?











Libby: Yep… they’re itchy-bitchy.







So… four things to keep in mind here…


1. I’m glad we’d already left the library by that point because this statement was said in an ‘oh so proud that I can rhyme words’ voice. And that particular voice just happens to be pretty LOUD.

2. It’s a good thing that I was driving the van, and the kids were in the back and couldn’t see my face and how hard I was laughing.

3. If the two older children had had bubble gum in their mouth at the time, I would have had to stop the van to perform the Heimlich, they sucked in their breath so quickly.





4. Remember not to ask Libby about a ‘truck’ or a ‘duck’ until she outgrows this phase. ;)