Baby Wardrobe recycling

Last night was just useless.

I went to bed at 9 after Scott went to work.

Greta slept at the foot of the bed and Lillee started out in the bassinet but within about 2 minutes was hungry so she ended up in the bed with me. 

We watched an espisode of Ramsay's Best Restaurant on the nook, then tried to go to sleep.

Ha

Lillee actually slept soundly all night!

Greta whined most of the night; I'm not sure if she was asleep or what but she never actually got up.

I pretty much slept in 30-45 minute spurts.

And the everytime I woke up I stayed awake for about an hour.

UGH.

So this morning when the rooster started up at 6 am, I was not in the mood for it.

Then Greta started acting like a lunatic.

So I hauled my butt up, found a jacket and flip flops (both Scott's) and took her out to pee. 

She walked about 8 feet from the door, stopped, and then just stood there and looked at me.

Dummy.

So I went to lay back down with Lillee and a few minutes later I got a text from Scott asking for info off of some paperwork he left here.

So I send him the info and get BACK IN BED.

And two minutes later he texts me to say that I sent the wrong info, so I get back OUT OF BED and send him the correct information.

Then I use my nifty single serve coffee maker, walk Greta again, and when I walk back inside: bliss.

A beautiful steaming mug of coffee waiting on me.

So I sat on the couch until Scott got home.

I pretty much just moped and looked at facebook and yelled at Greta for eating non-food things.

So when Scott got home, I was feeling sorry for myself, fatigued, and planning on sitting there on the couch for as long as I could get away with.

I realized that the reality of that was not to my liking...I probably could have managed about 5 minutes before a baby started crying or the dog started being a fool.

Then I read Mama Laughlin's post about how she had to get up and be at the gym at 5 am and she didn't want to, but once she got started, her whole day turned around.

So I hauled my chubby butt off the couch, folded like 5 loads of laundry that I've been avoiding all week, cleaned and reorganized the kitchen, cleaned the living room, and finally got the kiddos up.

I have to say, I'm impressed with myself for sucking it up and getting it done, but honestly I think I would have rather just gone back to bed.

Also...I've been recycling baby clothes lately.

All the things that Lillee is just growing out of actually fit Maddy perfectly!

I know that seems a little insane, but actually it's awesome.

For example, legging that are too short to fit Lillee as pants are the perfect size to fit Maddy as shorts...kinda like biking shorts.

Super cute y'all.

And the dresses that are just a little too short for Lillee make adorable shirts for Maddy.

Same thing for Maddy's shirts...Lillee can wear a lot of them as dresses.

It's like a whole new wardrobe for both girls for FREE!

P.S. ( I actually used this correctly because I'm writing this little note as a post-script edit!) People really grate on my nerves when they, for some reason, think that it's OK to scream and holler ALL NIGHT LONG, especially on weeknights. If I can hear your music from my apartment, it's too loud. If I can't understand what you're saying because it bears no resemblance to the English language, then a higher volume probably won't help your buddies figure out what the heck you're saying. It is not proper, or legal to stand outside my apartment door while drunk or stoned and shout the lyrics to some ridiculous rap song by an artist(I use this term loosely) with a kindergarten education and vocabulary. Example: "I drink my booze from a bowl. not a cup. No. I use a bowl cause it make me [insert whatever you want her cause I have no idea what he said]."

I know you've been dying to know...

My mother is supposed to be sending me a photo to put in this post, but she's a slacker so I guess I have to do it without the picture.

it kind of ruins the whole thing if you can't visualize it, but I'll tell you anyway.

In explanation of my previous post, here is the answer to what those three things represent.

First is the beautiful glass bowl.

that's similar to what I think they used to cut my hair when i was eight.

You, know, a bowl cut? like little boys get.

I think I was going for something more like my friend Ali had...which i would call a bob (it's basically the same thing but girlified). Like this:

It's hard to tell exactly what her hair looks like (she's the one on the right) but I guess i wanted my hair like hers.

Anyway the socks...well, those are called tube socks y'all.

when you put them on, they come all the way up to your little knobby knees.

I mean mine.

I wore these ALL the time up through like 6th grade.

It should be embarrassing but I just think it's funny.

What's bad about me wearing the tube socks is the fact that i also wore boys cargo shorts (the 3rd pic from my last post).

Cargo shorts, tube shocks, and a boy hair cut.

What the bleep was I thinking y'all?

better yet, how did my parents let me do that to myself?

if ever my mother sends me a photo, I will post it and share the hilarity!

 

Can you figure this one out?

Don't you hate reading a right justified text?

It's just backwards.

It's like...you all of a sudden don't know how to read.

So, I've really been wanting waffle house but Scott absolutely refuses to take me.

UGH.

I've got anew series for you. 

I will post a series of pictures, then you get to guess how the pictures relate to my life. 

My mom and sis have already seen most of them so they know the answers.

And the hilarity of it all.

I will post again tomorrow with the related story and possibly a picture to go with.

Here is the first group of pictures!!

(this lovely item can be purchase at IKEA. I found it on their website)

found at skatersocks.com

sierratradingpost.com

Good luck figuring this one out!

America ≠ Hate

I am sick of hearing about the Boston Bombing.

Not because I'm being insensitive...it's a terrible tragedy and just goes to show how much evil is in this world.

what I'm tried of hearing is hatred.

YES, these two men killed innocent Americans.

YES, (most likely) they did it out of hatred.

YES, I hate what they did.

YES, they deserve justice.

However, I am very disappointed with Americans in general with their reaction to him.

Those that want him killed for being a terrorist as well as those who support him and want him released (for whatever insane reason.)

y'all, this is America.

In America, citizens are protected by our great Constitution.

In America, you are innocent until proven guilty in a court of law.

In America, we don't act on hatred.

And that's why America is better than anywhere else in the world, because when it comes to establishing a nation based on good, strong, moral principles, our forefathers got it right.

YOU CANNOT COMBAT THEIR HATRED BY HATING THEM BACK.

 you have to fight Evil with goodness. with God.

Don't let the hatred of those two men cause you to turn into a hater as well.

Now, more than ever, is the time for us to unite in LOVE, else we will lose the thing that separates us from evil.

aint supposed to slurp that junk

I really want to share an epiphany with y'all.

Problem is, I haven't really had any lately:(

I have no idea what to write about.

Or what anyone wants to read about.

So let me tell y'all a story about my mama.

When I was...hmmm...maybe 4 or 5 years old, the kids at daycare were making fun of me and saying my mom was fat. So when my mom picked me up that day I was crying, and she asked what was wrong. Between making fish sucking noises and snot running down my face i said "they said ...*gasping fish*...you were *gasping fish again* ...FATTTTTTTTT".

My mom, in her typical, happy, nonchalant way responded, 'well...I am."

Fast forward a few years at Christmas time and my mom and her friend are having a glass of whine.

they decided they would put up all the Christmas decorations that night. First up...Christmas lights across the back deck. This is a pretty normal thing. The problem comes when you get to the bottom of the stairs and need to get the string of lights to the other side. So what did they do?

They stapled the lights to the GROUND. like...staple going into dirt. what fools.

Then a few years later me and my next-door-neighbor-BFF wanted to make a cookie cake mothers day surprise for our  moms. her older sister helped us, we showed it to their mom, and then decided to walk it over to show my mom before we cut any pieces. So we get to my house, open then door and shout HAPPY MOTHERS-ohh!--- and katie practically tripped over us trying to back out of the door. Why? because my mother was cooking dinner in her underwear! 

ha!

lol that is so funny I just can't even describe how hilarious it was.

fast forward again and my mom has a head cold. she decides to try the Zicam lollipops. So she buys a box of them, sits on her bed, and opens one up. She squishes all that liquidy-medicine-goodness to the tip of the little wrapper, and slurps it up. Then she proceeds to nearly puke because it's the nastiest thing she has ever tasted. Well...here's the problem y'all.

Zicam doesn't make lollipops.

Zicam makes Q-tip-like swabs that you use to put the medicine up inside your nostril.

I'm assuming it's something similar to vapo-rub.

One thing i know fo sho y'all...

you ain't supposed to slurp that junk.

what day is it?

I wanted to be fun and creative and do a "thankful thursday" post to add to the 23 things I've already listed.

Well, turns out today is friday.

Oh well...Guess it'll be Fankful Fridays.

24. super cute shoes from Kmart for $8

25. my pink tumbler cup that makes it easier to drink water

26. that sexy man in my bed 

27. towels straight from the dryer

28. military health insurance

29. the love I have for peppermints, instilled by my G-maw B

30. Scott's ability to agitate me constantly...it's actually really cute

31. My cousin Jessy...that's a whole other post

32. cowboy boots to wear when the parking lot is located beneath an ocean

33.wet wipes for snotty noses

34. benadryl for babies

35. yoga stretches for the nursing mom

36. yoga stretches for the nursing mom. yes. they're THAT good

37. cash money

38. the heart of giving I inherited from ( or maybe was taught by) my Mama

39. Memories of my uncle Marty. There's not a single bad one.

40. Ecclesiastes to give me motivation to do the redundant, seemingly pointless things in life.

41. Friends from different backgrounds/perspectives

42. It's legal in this state to whip your child. 

43. A tag on our car before the temporary expired:)

44. Chubby babies who always smile at me no matter how bad I fail.

I just want y'all to know...I just typed a title for this post, then decided to change it. When I hit backspace my stupid internet browser started going back like 5 pages.
INSTANT PANIC ATTACK.
it's ok. Blogger autosaves.

my 8 cents on boobies

(yes, I know the colloquialism is "my 2 cents"...I just have a lot to share)

 

Breastfeeding has certainly been a challenging experience.

I'm no expert on it, but I managed to keep Maddy alive for 6 months on breastmilk alone, then another several months of breastmilk and foods. (yes, foodS not food)

And Lillee, well, she's doing a little better than just surviving on the breastmilk. The Chunk weighs 16.5 pounds at 5 months old and has only eaten real food maybe 5 times in her life.

Anyway, my point is, I must be doing something right so I thought I should share what has made it easier for me.

Hopefully someone will happen upon my post one day and it will help.

First, I applaud anyone who has made the decision to nurse your child.

It seems silly to me to call it a decision because it's a natural thing. It's like saying "I'm choosing to breathe".

But that's how people are these days, so there ya go.

Second, I have some advice for you. Do what works for you. Do your research, but don't take what one mom says to be the holy truth of breastfeeding. And don't let the whole "lactation consultant" thing scare you. 1) if you don't have any issues with your baby latching on, you probably don't need the consultant. They're creepy anyway. Want an example?

Maddy Lee Pannell was sitting in my arms at the ripe old age of 7 or 8 minutes. I thought I HAD to see the consultant, so I was waiting for her to come in before I tried to feed Maddy. Mom and Scott were standing by the bed, admiring this beautiful baby girl.

Enter old lady with short gray hair, glasses, and a scrunched up face like she just couldn't believe her job was so terrible. She walked over to the supply counter, grabbed a pair of gloves and did the creepy stretch-and-pop technique you only see in movies to get her gloves on.

She immediately walked over, unsnapped my hospital gown at the top, grabbed my boob and stuck it in Maddy's mouth...

"hi, I'm the lactation consultant today".

WAIT!

Shouldn't you have said that as soon as you walked in? I mean, what the what? You can't just go around stretch-and-pop-ing your gloves and grabbing people boobs. Gah.

Anyway, when I had Lillee I just said I didn't want the consultant to come to my room unless I had a problem.

In all seriousness, unless there is some sort of complication with labor, breastfeeding just sort of comes to you. And here's the great part about it...if it doesn't, you ask for help. The most important thing about asking for help is to ask someone you're comfortable with cause you're gonna be saying words like "breast" and "nipple" and "leak" and "squirt" and as terrible as it sounds, you might even mention "biting", "bleeding", "self-expressing" and more.

The best advice I got about nursing follows:

1. Don't stop, even when it hurts. Now, some people will tell you that if it hurts you're doing it wrong. That's a lie. Nipples are sensitive y'all...it takes some getting used to.

2. Pump at least once a day if you can. I didn't do this with Maddy until she's was about 2 months but it was a huge help when I wanted to go out or needed someone to watch her. With Lillee...Chunk just accepted abottle for the first time yesterday so pumping was pointless up til now. It never hurts to have some stored up though.

3. Do what feels right. Hold your baby however YOU want, not how someone else tells you to. Be lazy about it...lay down and let your baby lay next to you. Don't fall asleep with your boob hangin out though...in just a few short hours your whole couch/bed sheet will be completely soaked through because your baby spit your boob out and the milk just kept on coming. It's actually traumatizing to wake up soaked in milk. That stuff is like liquid gold and wasting it should be one of the 7 deadly sins.

4. Be comfortable. In your decision. In your capability. In your 36DD. And especially in your ability to squirt the hubs fro across the room. It's amazing how a grown man will pitch a fit over a little of what he calls "boobie milk". 

5. Drink lots of water. I'm talking like over a gallon every day. It matters. Just keep drinking. And taking bathroom breaks. And drink some more.

I have people ask for advice occasionally, and they're so caught up in all the things people tell them to do with their new baby they don't even have time to enjoy the baby. I absolutely hate it when people give "advice" as if it's the law. Guess what...there are a million ways to do everything. It doesn't matter what I say, or whether or not  Bonquiqui wants you to "get it". Do your own thing. Let your baby show you what she wants/needs. Goodness.

Lastly, be prepared for your baby to quite enjoy eating. They may make noises like "mmmph" and "gulp" and "mmm mmm mmm" and drink so fast they can't breathe. Laugh at them. It's hilarious.

bottle feeding miracle!!!!

As of yesterday, Lillee absolutely refused to drink from a bottle.

Partly my fault, because I didn't want to give her a bottle for at least 6 months because with Maddy, the bottle is what led to early weaning because I'm lazy and the bottle was WAYYYYYY easier to give with formula than with breastmilk.

Anyway, Lillee is almost 6 months old, and I've been trying for about a month to get her on  a bottle, just once in a while to give me a break/allow us to go out without worrying about Lillee screeching.

So today I pumped 6 ounces, put it in a bottle with these cute little handles and gave it to Lillee.

She freakin drank the whole thing, and even held is by herself!

Success.

I have dirty dishes in the sink...Ain't nobody got time fo dat

Ok, I know I've been a little boring lately, so I have a huge photo update for y'all today. I have about a week's worth of pictures to share!

Chunk has been falling asleep in funny/super cute positions lately...

Chunk has also started eating real food, which means sitting in the high chair!

Maddy has begun what I am now realizing is going to be a very long process of potty training. This is our goal...Being able to wear the super cute panties!

Chunk is just so happy.

Her blue eyes are HUGE!

Maddy being cool with one of her easter presents.

Dishes after I cooked dinner, made a fresh loaf of bread and prepped for meals. Don't worry, I cleaned it all up.

Chunk played in the jumper for the first time. Maddy's closet is the only door in our apartment where it fits.

Another adorable sleeping position. She wore herself out playing with the ribbon dog.

Chunk sleeping again and Maddy just being cool, as always.

Maddy's ADORABLE new shoes from Kmart. Ignore the price tag, they were only 7.99 each!!

Saw this in walmart. I'm not judging anyone, but...since when is placenta harvested commercially? What kind of placenta is it? Whose is it? Ok nevermind...This thought process leads down a dark and disturbing road.

It looks like she's moving, but I promise she was dead asleep when I took this...her arm just stuck up in the air the whole time she slept.

Chunk rode in the buggy seat for the first time ever!

When we left the store, I dropped my pen in her carseat...she found it and was very proud of herself.

I think stripes are a good look for her.

This morning Maddy discovered the camera on my phone that faces you...what's that even called? Anyway she had a little crayon modeling session (yes, she is naked. don't judge)

Chunk loves pictures!

Maddy is pretty good at making faces, huh? I'm impressed.

More stange crayon poses...that child...

Well,  that's all the interesting ones for now. I wish I had more to share.
Lillee is screaming her cute little head off right now, so I think I'm going to have to rescue her.
Actually more like serve her.
Obey her every command, fulfill her every desire.
That little girl is demanding....way more than Maddy was at this age.
But it's still fun:)

Night Shift Hostage

Ok, first off let me just say this post is in no way attacking Scott.

I'm not mad at him, none of it is his fault, and I'm not trying to turn you against him.

That being said, I still need to rant once in a while.

I hate night shift. I understand that they need cops on the road 24 hours a day, but I need my husband too.

I want to be selfish, because he's supposed to MINE.

It sucks so bad because he sleeps ALL day, which means several things for me.

1. I have to try to keep the girls quiet (ha, that's a good one).

2. I can't put any laundry away during the day, and if I need anything that stays in the bedroom, I have to remember to get it when I get up in the morning before he goes to bed.

3. We haven't slept in the same bed in over 3 months. Ok, well, technically we sleep in the same bed, but never at the same time. Talk about romantic, huh?

Even on his days off, he has to stay on his sleep schedule, so he sleeps all day.

We might get him for 2 hours at night, if I MAKE him wake up.

In which case he's grumpy and no one would want to be around him.

When he doesn't get enough sleep, he is a complete and total jerk.

I don't blame him, because I know he has a stressful, demanding job, but I still wish i could have my husband back to normal.

I want to be in the same house with him without one of us sleeping.

And he sleeps from like 9 am until 7 pm or later sometimes. 

That's at least 10 hours.

I am lucky to get 6 hours of sleep most nights.

He is more expensive on night shift too.

He eats "breakfast" while we're eating dinner, so usually he just has whatever I cook before he leaves for work.

Then he eats his "lunch" around 1-2am. Sometimes I make a lunch to send with him, but he usually ends up going to a convenient store anyway and getting snacks/drinks.

It's especially bad if he has a slow night because he gets bored. It's not like he pulls a lot of people over at 3 am, so if he doesn't get any calls, he just drives around all night.

Then he eats "dinner" around 6am, which means if he eats from a restaurant he has to get breakfast, and he has discovered some biscuit creation from Hardees that costs $6. 

So by the time he gets off at 8am he's spent 15 dollars or more, and that's 4 days a week or more.

Plus his crazy meal schedule makes it difficult to eat with him on his days off.

It's a big deal to us to sit down for meals together, but that doesn't happen on night shift.

There are so many other things about night shift that just make me angry!

I hate it!

I am so sick of the night shift garbage.

I hate it!

Night shift has taken my husband hostage and it's not fair dangit.

I know I'm whining, but I've been dealing with life without a husband for 3  months now.

I know, I know. 

Some people are single moms and they do it all without help every day blah blah blah.

Well, guess what? I HAVE A HUSBAND!!! so I shouldn't HAVE to do it all without help.

Thanks goodness his department rotates shifts every 4 months and we are almost done with this rotation.
I want my husband back.

You hear me night shift?

I want him back dangit.

Where the Heart Is

My friend just recently posted about home.

As in, Where is home? What is home? 

So I thought I would write a little on the subject, just because it's interesting, and I know y'all are all nosy, so you don't mind a little story.

I was born (as Kimberly Marie Loveless) in Powder Springs, Georgia. Well, actually that's just where the house was. 

I lived on Harmony Road until I was in third grade, then moved to Lovingwood Trail.

I lived there until I was 18, when I moved to North Carolina for college.

I shortly moved back to Lovingwood, then to Douglasville.

3 years later, I moved to Albany, where we are living now.

So there's the outline, now  I want to tell you about each place.

the Harmony Road house was a cute little house with a big fenced in yard, a separate garage out back, and a playground my Dad built. We also had inflatable pools, trampoline, and go karts and four wheelers on and off while we lived there.

What I remember most about my time there are a few incidents.

1. it was sort of off the main roads, so I was allowed to play in the street, as long as i stayed between each of our neighbors mailboxes. One time when my babysitters (one of whom still works for my parents today) told me to stay close, I rode my bike like half a mile away and forgot to go back. They came and found me like 30 minutes later but I got in HUGE trouble.

2. One time I had my birthday party in the back yard. We had a pool that year, and my little friend Brian (we called him Brick for some reason) got in the pool in his clothes and didn't have a change. He ended up getting so cold he turned purple, so my mom dressed him in my clothes, including little girl panties.  I don't know why I remember that, but I bet his mother remembers it too!

3. Our neighbor was a slightly-older-than-my-parents black lady who had two kids--Kia and Jeremy. They were a few years older than me but they always included me. Their mom, Linda used to yell at our dog, Tinker for making so much noise. She'd come outside and things like "shut up you tigga foo".

That's definitely the first place in life that I called home. It makes me sad to drive by that house now and reminisce. But leaving that house led to a new chapter in my life (and my parents'!).

So a few weeks into 3rd grade we moved to a much larger, much nicer house.

I had to change schools, which was hard, but not so hard that I hated it. 

I made friends pretty quick, but looking back now I realize what a weirdo I was...don't believe me? (actually you probably do believe me) Well, let me just tell you this: I had a bowl cut, wore boy shorts with knee high socks, and my voice is pretty deep like the boys' (considering I was among pre-pubescent boys). Yeah. 

Anyway, this new house had 4 acres of woods, a huge front yard, and a tennis court.

Eventually my dad built a fourwheeler track, including bridge and tunnel, a jump on the tennis court, and a super steep hill climb. Then he built a giant garage on the tennis court.

Then he built a pool.

And then a garden.

Anyway, in the time that we lived in that house, I made a lot of memories.

• My best friend through elementary/middle school, Rachel, who lived next door. We made movies together, swam every summer for hours and hours, played pranks, made afterschool snacks like hotdog-potato chip-pickle-ketcup sandwiches. YuM!
• put in more hours on four wheelers and go karts than you can imagine. One time I watched my sister take her little tiny fourwheeler up the hill climb and chicken out about half way up. Right in front of me, she flipped backwards down the hill 3 times! I almost had a heart attack.
• learned to cook and spent many nights with my mom in the kitchen making creations. We had lots of parties and get togethers  at that house. That's relaly where I would like to call home, at least in the sense of "going back home" to my parents, but they've recently moved to a new house, which is bittersweet. Their new house is beautiful and perfect for them.

Next I moved away to college. Nothing about that was home to me. I basically hated it. Especially because I was 7 hours from Scott and we were engaged to be married. Thankfully, I quickly moved back home to my parents' house, got married, and moved in with Scott in the house he purchased a few months earlier.

As much as I would love to say that house in Douglasville is home, I never really got to make the house into a home. Now that I have the girlies and I realize how blessed we were, I hope to someday move back to that house and really make it ours.

We lived there for 3 years, while both of us were sort of in and out of jobs and/or school, trying to decide what to do with our lives.

Finally, Scott got a police job in Albany and we had about 3 weeks to find a place to live, get our house rented out, and move to Albany.

So here we are today in the 2 bed/1 bath apartment.

I might say in conversation "i have to go home" in reference to the apartment, but it's definitely been a temporary thing from day 1.

All of this to say that what really makes a home is love, familiar comforts, and memories.

You know, home is where the heart is.

 I'm at home when me and my mom cook a meal together, or work the garden for a few hours.

I'm at home when Scott and I take the girls outside to play in the grass, or sit down together for dinner and a movie.

I'm home when I hold my girls, read my favorite book, and especially when we sit around and go through old pictures.

Where is your home? What makes it home?

It's something we don't really think about, but is so incredibly important.

Perspective from an Island Girl

Ever have one of those days where you just feel like life completely sucks?

I mean really sucks.

Sucks the life, the energy, the joy, out of you?

Maybe it's because you're taking things for granted.

Simple things like running water, electricity, safety.

Having a stable home is just something that's part of life. It's like the furniture in your living room: you know it's there but you don't pay attention to it or ever acknowledge it.

Well, I have the cure.

If you want to gain a little perspective on life, you need to read this blog:

avimumu.wordpress.com.

She's an island girl who loves God and her husband, and is experiencing a bit of culture shock being in America.

Her outlook on life is FANTASTIC and her stories are super fun to read:) 

Please check out the blog, and you better be nice or I'll ...well, I won't do anything.

Just be nice:)

Mom of the Year, Y'all

ok y'all.

I have a new series I am going to start writing. 

Well, not really a series. More of a category I guess.

And my first post will be today.

First off, I'll tell you it takes hard work to earn this award.

That's right.

I'm the Mom of the Year, Y'all.

Let me share with you the incident that earned such a prestigious accolade.

Today I got the girls all dressed up and cute and stuff.

We loaded up and headed to the grocery store. 

Maddy wore here ADORABLE pink plaid Sperry's (but not really Sperry's cause I only paid $12 at payless for them).

Everybody was fine during the whole shopping trip and the ride home.

Then I got the girls out of the car and let Maddy walk while I carried Lillee.

Maddy was walking kinda goofy so I figured the velcro strap probably came loose on one of her shoes.

Then, she just stopped in the middle of the sidewalk and started screaming...like full out, temper tantrum from the devil screaming.

I just figured "hey, what the heck...terrible twos." So I just picked her up and carried her inside.

i fixed her some juice and she still screamed.

She threw the juice down and sat in the kitchen pitching her little fit.

Goodness gracious lawdamercy. (haha, I hope someone non-southern tries to figure that one out).

So I sat down with her, trying really hard not to get mad at her, and started taking her shoes off.

Welp. Here's why the child was having a breakdown.

One of her precious little toes was completely bent backwards over the top of her foot.

Like...hmmm...how do I even describe this...it was pointed at her ankle. And it was THIS TERRIBLE SHADE OF PURPLE.

Yipes.

 Talk about mom of the year, huh?

Don't worry. by bed time all body parts were fully functioning and back to normal. Plus Maddy got to eat sympathy candy. Gosh, I still feel bad even knowing she's fine.

Also, I have these moments on a regular basis.

And I know you have stories that deserve this award.

Please PLEASE tell me about them:) I'll give you the award too!