I Sty Something In My Eye and Other Funny Games

I believe I'm developing a massive sty in my eye. And truly, it's developing a life of its own. In fact, its likely going to be so large that it quite possibly will become my eye. How do I know this, you ask? Well, when I bend over to pick something up (read: every toy we own thrown all over the house) my eye feels like it has its own migraine. I'm thinking I'll look something like this tomorrow...
OR possibly more like this...


OK enough about my ugly eye-ness... I have a surprise for you! I have a Guest Blogger today! My SIL. Melissa. She rocks and I knew when I held her hair back while she was puking the first time I met her that we were meant to be SILs forever. Love her. Here she is... pay attention.

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Greetings!

So here we are enjoying the heat of Arizona as a welcome change from the cold of Colorado and my SIL tells me that I'm going to be her guest blogger today. Now don't get me wrong, I love reading her blog and even posting comments on occasion, but...I've never actually written a blog before. So, I've been pondering all day, 'what on earth am I going to write about?' So, I've decided to write about one of the things that makes me unique. I have 2 toes, that's it. Not like 2 toes on each foot, but 2 toes total. Technically, I have the 4th and 5th toes on my left foot, nothing on the right. To make a long story short, I had an "accident" that involved a blizzard, a creek, and spending the night at 10,000 feet in 10 degree weather with bare feet. That was May 20th, 2001.

I have always had a sense of humor about my feet, something I get from my dad (he's got a million jokes about "under toes, toe heads, etc." If I have an opportunity to set up a joke that involves my feet I'm all over it. For example, the time I was snorkeling with my husband and told some kids that the sharks got my toes. When my niece was little I would show her my feet and ask her where my toes were and help her look for them. I have to say, kids LOVE my feet (my nephew was just kissing and caressing them yesterday.) I teach elementary school and I've actually had students tell me that my feet are "cool".

Anyway, what's fun for me is that my son (and daughter) has never known me with more than 2 toes. That's just the way his mom is. He's 3 now and he just asked me for the first time where my other toes were. He hadn't realized before that most people had 10 like he does. I hope that on some level it will make my kids more accepting of people with differences. I'm also teaching them that it's okay to ask about something if you see it (ie. "what happened to your toes?") I would definitely rather have someone ask me about my toes than stare. I'm different and I'm proud of it!

Note the pedicure left over from Valentines.

I hope you've enjoyed your guest blog, thanks for listening.

Merci Beaucoup

My sweet blogger friend Angie from Keep Believing is passing along this bling because she said I make her smile. How great is that??? How amazing is it to have someone tell you that? I mean, the best feeling a person can have is when something makes them smile or laugh, so I am beyond honored with this award.

But, sometimes all I can do when I read her blog is cry. I mean - she is a wonderful writer and a very funny person, but she and her husband and two boys are dealing with a Herculean mountain to climb in their lives. One that is not deserved, nor pleasurable to climb. This mountain is a brain tumor inside her husband's head, and she and her family are taking a beating right now. But I'd like to share something with you...

I had the pleasure of hearing someone speak at a conference I was at this past weekend, and it opened my eyes. His name was Eric Weihenmayer and if you haven't heard of him, he's the only blind man to have climbed the "Seven Summits" which include the world's highest and deadliest mountain, Mt. Everest. His message was simple. The famous saying, "Seeing is Believing" has it all wrong. The truth is Believing Is Seeing. I say he's exactly right. This man has done what no other person in history has even attempted. And even after failure upon failure, his BELIEF is what propelled him through the agonizing pain, the beatings on the mountain, the doubters, the blood shed and the heartbreak, until it nearly killed him. But. He. Made it.

So I'd like to ask you all to KEEP BELIEVING too. Angie's husband received some not so great test results this past week, and they need uplifting. Big time. So instead of doing the usual passing along of this award to a deserving blogger in appreciation of receiving it, I'm going to give it back to her to keep. So visit her blog and send her some believing love. Because imagine your life with a mountain like this right in the middle of it. I'll ask you all this week to really Believe together that our God will heal this dear man and give this family a miracle.

As Angie always says... Keep Believing!

If We Were 3

Recently, while sitting down for a living room lunch picnic with my 3.11 year old, I watched as she twitched and rolled and did all kinds of acrobatics on the floor during our conversation. And I realized - it really didn't phase me. It's how 3 & 4 year olds act all the time. Then, I started envisioning what it would be like if we, as adults, were accepted as completely normal when participating in these antics as part of life as 30-something-year-olds. What if we felt the freedom to just kick our legs up and roll on the floor during a business meeting or at the grocery store? Wouldn't it be fun if it were perfectly normal to carry on a conversation looking something like.... this....

(Scene: Mommica cooking dinner. Husband enters room with glass of wine ready to hand Mommica after long day of Suicide Watch over the accident prone/everything-ingesting toddler...)

Husband: "Here you go, sweetie. How was your day?"
Mommica: (picking my nose up to my brains) "Oh fine, babe. You know... a little of this. A little of that."
Husband: "Oh? So what's for dinner?"
Mommica: "Hmmm... well (as I start to balance on one leg)... I dunno - what're you gonna make us?"
Husband" "Ha ha. Seriously. What healthy, delicious meal are you making me?"
Mommica: (doing a handstand with one leg swinging up in the air, looking at Husband upside down) "Umm... how about Coq au Vin? I'm really tired and want to get kids in bed early. Hey, how do you spell Coq au Vin?"
Husband: "Ummm... let's see - I think it's WXVVINILKSSC? Hey! Wanna see how high I can jump?"
Mommica: "Ya! Do it!"
Husband: (Jumps super duper high with both legs up and lands breathing loud and hard.)
Mommica: "Wow Husband. You jump SO high HA ha ha Ha ha HA HA ha haA ha." (my hands go on my hips and I sway back and forth like I'm 30.)
Husband: "Thanks. I practiced that all day. I'm looking forward to jumping even higher when the boss and his fam get here next week. I'm sure he'll be impressed."
Mommica: "Definitely." (Picking my nose again and pulling out a he-UGE boogie and holding it out to Husband on the tip of my finger.)
Husband: "Need a kleenex?"
Mommica: "Mmmhmm." (smiling, rolling around on the kitchen floor lifting legs in the air and kicking feet while putting my hands under my knees, seeing if I can make a fart sound, while the skirt's falling down exposing my undergarments.)
Husband: "Hey Babe, what's on my lunch schedule tomorrow?" (making an airplane noise as he reaches for his glass)
Mommica: "Ugh. I don't know - why do you always make me check your lunch calendar every day?? (I just fall down, because standing on 2 feet is sometimes harder than it looks.)
Husband: "PLEASE tell me who's Lunch Person tomorrow!!! PLEASE! Look at my calendar! (doing a potty dance)
Mommica: "Fine. (getting up from the floor after my fall, then hopping on every syllable) You're - taking - your - client - Julie - out - to - lunch."
Husband" "Yay!!! Hooray! (running down the hall at mock speed and hitting the wall as hard as he can.)
Mommica: (racing Husband down the hall, now screaming at the top of my lungs and then tripping, and running into him until we collide, bounce off each other, fall and both start crying.)
Husband: (rolls onto me laughing and saying in high voice "tickey tickey tickey" as he tickles my sides.)
Mommica: (Laughing, then screaming for him to stop, then laughing again.) "STOP!" "Now, let's get dinner started - let's go play the somersault game and then eat dinner."

Wouldn't that be fun? Ah... to be a careless 3 year old again...