Fie on you grape jelly!

You know when you go out for breakfast and they bring the little jam packets?? Well, the other day we were out for breakfast and when they brought the little packets Nyla thought they were juice. I thought I had convinced her it was in fact jam, and was convincing her to try the grape jelly...it and even went as far as lying my ass off and telling her how much I looooove it.
She picked up the packet and started studying the pic and decided that the picture actually looked more like nuts. She then looked at me with a very confused expression and said, "You love nut juice??".
Of course Darryl started to snicker... which only fueled Nyla's desire to broadcast as loud as she could in a singsong voice that "Mommy loves nut juice". The entire restaurant was treated to an early morning song about how much I love nut juice...
I don't embarrass easily, but I have to admit that this one made me blush... it could be because the restaurant was full of oilfield workers who of course, thought it was hilarious.
Finally, instead of shushing her I agreed loudly that mommy does in fact looove nut juice. She mercifully shut her pie hole.
Do you want to know what I learned from this?? Nothing. Sigh... kids are so random.

Baby News!!

Well folks, Darryl said it would never happen, but I'm very excited to report that there will be a brand new addition to our family!!

If you're thinking that I'm talking about a human baby you obviously haven't been listening when I say there will be no more fruit from my loins...

BUT the new addition is a very adorable and awesome pup.



She is the perfect pup for us. Her mom is a Great Pyrenees/Maremma cross and her dad is a Border Collie... pretty much the perfect farm/family dog.
The Black Lab we got from the pound is now 10 years old and is more interested in laying around sniffing his butt then doing anything. We think that at this stage of life he should be allowed to sniff his butt all he wants and take a break from chasing bears, wolves and other crazy creatures.

Now, the hunt for a great name. Nyla wants to name her... but if we let a 3 year old name our dog it would end up with a 'Hollywood' name like Apple, or Blanket or her favorite, Special Agent Oso. I guess we'll have to wait and see.
Feel free to lay some suggestions on us!

In other news... I purchased a silent keyboard. It is total balls. Don't ever get one of these stupid things. You practically have to fire bomb the keys to make them work... boooooo on this silent trash.

Too excited

For many reasons...
1. I have 'Thriller' as my ring tone. Now, all I have to do is learn the Thriller dance and I can break out into dance every time my phone rings. Awesome??? I think so.

PS: I don't feel even a little bit bad about being a total freak. I embrace my inner freak. I'm all about letting the freak out.

2. I now am part of a complete, 4 person team for an awesome, ass kicking ADVENTURE RACE!
Yes, it finally happened. I can't even begin to express my deep down excitement for this one.


Now, as I mentioned before I tend to be a bit of a freak. So my goal is to not piss my teammates off by sneaking in their windows at 5 am to try to get them all pumped to go canoeing. I'm not making any promises though... If they leave their windows open... or have a bedroom on a lower floor all bets are off. I'm not responsible for my over-freakishness in this matter.
I'm pretty sure that I'm immune to mace or bear spray, so don't even bother (the magic of contacts... I can even cut onions without crying... I'm made of steeeeel baby!)

PS: if any of you are planning on wearing spandex you can just walk your creepy asses back into your house and put some coverage on. Dude... that is so wrong.

I'd love to stay and chat, but I have to go bust out some moves. Thriller is calling my name.

Surviving family... a guide.

This has been a very strange week. Those of you who know me know that I don't do well with a house full of my family... my survival techniques are often considered 'unhealthy' by others, but hell, I survived didn't I???
My weekend diet was basically chocolate, a hell of a lot of booze...oh...and some ham. I perfected the art of keeping a buzz on all day long. I'm sure my family thought I turned over a new leaf and had become more... balanced... when in fact I was just bombed. Well... whatever works right??

On Tuesday my dad had a my head sized tumor taken out of his guts. At first I was really grossed out... after all, I have a big head (full of brains though, not just a big ol' head stuffed with feathers). After the shock subsided I chatted with my father-in-law who gave me a great idea. If we slapped a wig on the tumor we could pass that thing off as a baby and become millionaires. Seriously.. the first actual man to give birth??? Totally worth some cash. I don't even care that its a big, head sized lie. My moral code got all skewed at bible college... I'm ok with the art of deception.

So, I've decided to give my liver a break and try life as a sober person again. So far its not too bad... I'll keep you posted.