That's me. Don't ask what I've been up to though--I can't seem to remember much. I guess that's not entirely true. I was able to get caught up on all of the laundry and ironing that I'd only been chipping away at periodically for the past couple of weeks--and it was certainly "much"! Enough to keep me up until 3:00am last night. I know, I know. That is soooooooooooo dumb. But it had to be done. It just wasn't going to happen in the daylight hours and everybody was out of clothes. And I wasn't just ironing until that hour, I was also tending to Sam from time to time up until 3:00 when he finally gave out for the night. He, on occasion, wakes during the night crying and usually tells me that his feet or legs hurt. Growing pains, I assume. He's been having nights like that here lately and last night was one of the worst. This, of course, is why I'm so wiped out today.

Last night James got the garden space all ready for us and the whole family headed out back to plant! How fun, hu?! Don't know how successful we'll be, but it'll be fun trying anyway. We planted some corn, watermelons, pumpkins, carrots and bell peppers. I'll have to post pictures of it one of these days--James built a cute little split rail fence around the area in hopes of keeping the kids and dog out of it. We'll see.

The kids and I went to lunch with Tammy today just for the fun of it. That was nice. Came home and put the kids down for a nap for a little while and I cleaned things up a little bit. Afterward we went out back to play ball for a while. We threw Joe's football around a little bit, then they got out the big, fat plastic bat and the tennis ball. I was tossing the ball to them and Katie and Joe were both hitting really good tonight, so I told them I'd teach them how to really play baseball. Riiiiiiiiiiiiight. No matter what you say, kids in their first attempt to learn the sport really don't attempt to learn anything at all. There's no way to make them do things right. The first several times they they hit the ball they took of running with the bat still in hand. I finally got them talked into dropping the bat, but that only produced a worse situation. They then began a swing/drop-the-bat combo move that translated into slinging the bat wildly across the yard (usually at the pitcher) whether they even hit the ball or not. And it doesn't matter how many times you map out the simple 1st, 2nd, 3rd, and Home route to them, they are bound and determined to forge a new trail. Katie hit the ball and commenced weaving wildly about the entire yard, through the swing set, around the back of the pool--all the while giggling uncontrollably. Then the first time I tagged her "out" she crumpled into a ball on the grass and started crying. "But Mom, why do I have to be out???" She doesn't even know what that means. I told her that baseball players do not cry when they get "out" and to quit it or she'd have to go inside. She did better after that, but hoooo-ey, it is exhausting to take on such challenges. Why would anybody ever agree to coach Little League?!

We were all hot and sweaty and tired, so we sat down with some popsicles, then hopped in the pool for a little while. Hershey jumped up on the bulge (it's bulging more than ever for some reason and provides a perfect ledge for him to come investigate what's going on inside), then he stepped up onto the inflatable ring at the top of the pool. Have I ever mentioned that he's not the brightest dog in the world? Naturally, he slipped off and fell into the pool. ~sigh~ He hated it, of course, and was out in no time giving a great illustration of "the rips." You know, that ritual dogs do when they're wet and hyper--running at Mach 4 in and out and over and under and around and through whatever happens to be there. Then he pulled the ole' drop down and roll in the dirt and grass move. Just what you want your wet dog to do. Dumb dog.

Before I forget, I was going to tell you about the punk kids the other night. Not my own this time--somebody else's. I was sitting at my computer at about 10:00pm and suddenly heard some commotion coming from out back. I peeked out the blinds and saw a flurry of teenagers--in our back yard!!! They were already headed for the back fence, but when James and I slung the back door open they began their own attempt at "the rips." Remember, we have an 8' cinderblock privacy fence out back. There were a couple of girls who managed to get the gate open, but all of the guys went scurrying over the top of the fence as if it was a speed bump. Amazing!!! We still can't figure out what they were up to, but it was quite exciting. I was already almost giggling as we slung the door open, just imagining their panic at being "caught." Ha! Boy, did they skedaddle quick! I can't imagine they were up to any real mischief (not that many of them together, making that much noise--and having that much fun), probably just kids being kids, and I thoroughly enjoyed giving them that extra little rush of adrenaline. :-)

Our own kids have been keeping us on our toes this week as well. A few days ago the boys were suddenly getting very rowdy in the bathtub, so I went to investigate. There were big blobs of bubbles all over each of them, all over the shower walls, and some in various other places around the bathroom. Their explaination? "Snowball fight." That was almost as good as Katie's explanation when Joe said she hit him with a rock today. "I didn't throw it at him, I just dropped it gently on his head." Oh, that's soooooooo much better.

I told Joe to go clean his room up before bedtime the other night and he started moaning and groaning about it. I told him he could either clean it up happily, or he could be spanked for his bad attitude, sent to bed early, then clean it before breakfast the next day. He pondered that for a few seconds then asked, "How many licks would it take?" That kid!!! I said, "Joe... CLEAN YOUR ROOM!" He called my bluff, I guess. There really wasn't an option--he was going to do it before bed! And he did. :-)

Oh, and I can't leave this one out. We were getting ready for church on Sunday and Joe came to me very concerned and said that Sam was saying that he didn't like God. I told him I'd be there in a few minutes and he went back to the bedroom with Sam. Joe came back a couple of minutes later and said that he had talked to Sam and that it's all okay now--Sam says he loves God after all. Then Sam came out and told me, "If ya' don't like God He'll kill ya'. So I like 'im." HA! I told him that that wasn't exactly the case, but close--but that I was glad he liked Him either way. Make me wonder what kind of counselling he was getting from his big brother! Ha!

Okay, I should go. I'm going to try real hard to be alseep by 11:00 tonight. I think I've done that really dumb thing that I do, though. I had a window of opportunity at about 9:00 (about the time I started this post, I think--before several interruptions) when I was really feeling the lack of sleep from last night and was just sooooooooo tired. I didn't go to bed then and now it's 10:40 and I'm wired. I always get my second wind when I really need to be turning in for the night. I've been that way since I was a teenager, as any girl who ever had the misfortune of staying with me can attest to. Will I ever grow out of it?! ~sigh~ Not tonight, I'm afraid. But I'm going to try to talk myself into being tired anyway or I'll really regret it tomorrow!

~Becki~