Skip to content

Anniversary Dinner

June 18, 2011

The hubs and I took the kids and my in-laws out for dinner on our anniversary the other night. I know, romantic, right? It was nice to get out after Brody and Bob had been working on sanding and staining the deck all day (while I sat inside in the air conditioning). Okay, okay. I went to Kohl’s, too. Schwoo. Hard work, that is. We were fortunate to get a large booth in the corner of the restaurant, which is THE perfect location when you have little kids and you’re not sure how they’re going to behave. Don’t want to irritate the other patrons, you know.

We hadn’t been sitting in our booth very long when Maddox started misbehaving and Brody had to take him outside to let him cool down. In the mean time, Bob and I witnessed Lena shove her finger down her throat at the table. As expected, Lena let out quite the gag and Bob and I had a good giggle at her stupidity. Hahahaha…what an idiot. You don’t stick your finger down your throat, Lena! You’ll make yourself barf! A couple of minutes passed and we thought she’d gotten over the need to explore her mouth with her hand, but I felt Lena lurch and instantly there was puke all over the seat next to me and it was making its way to my leg. I tossed Lena to Bob and cleaned up what I could, but not before the barf soaked into my jeans and found a cozy home on Lena’s clothing.

Brody and Maddox arrived back at the table and we all had a good laugh at what had transpired. Hahahahahaha…ohhh, it was soooo funny. NOT funny when you’re trying to eat your buffalo chicken wrap and all you can smell is vom. Doesn’t particularly contribute to the lovely ambiance.

Lena didn’t eat a thing at dinner so I was beginning to think maybe she was coming down with a bug or something. We asked for our ticket and waited patiently while our plates were being cleaned up. Suddenly Lena became very clingy and whiney and wanted to crawl all over me. I didn’t know what she wanted: “Do you want a French fry? Do you want a drink? Do you want a….” And then it happened again. I was holding her and she ralphed over my shoulder, down my back and into my pants. It was everywhere. All Bob could do was wipe the chunks off my back while the rest of the projectile soaked into my clothing.


Needless to say, we ran out of there like our pants were on fire. And I rode home lunging forward in my seat while trying not to think about the vomit that was soaking through my bra.

Happy anniversary, Brody! Err, maybe next year.


My Precioussssss….an update

June 16, 2011

Since I deviated from my usual children’s stories and honored you guys with a rather provocative post on my long arm hair, I felt it only appropriate to provide you with an udpate on its progress.

Well, I’m sad to say My Precioussssss seems to have lost about half of its existence in…a…hair accident. Where did it occur? I have no idea. It’s lying on the Kohl’s fitting room in a pile of polyester, perhaps? My mom told me I shouldn’t be “nurturing and fertilizing” it, so I think that’s what did it in; it was hurt by Grandma’s harsh words. Sowwy, wittle baby (stroke, stroke). It’s still around 2 inches long so, while it doesn’t wrap around my arm like it used to, it’s still impressively lengthy. I have high hopes for its future.

Oh, crap. I just pulled it out.

Flow it, show it, long as God can grow it, my hair.

June 13, 2011

Maddox’s obsession with his Justin Bieber haircut has taken a turn for the worst. I suppose you could say he actually has Bieber Hair Fever (well, before Justin cut his hair into that rather KD Lang-type ‘do, anyway). Rather than your average 4 year-old boy who enjoys his fair share of a little bedhead in the morn, Maddox must comb and flatten and smooth and squash his hair down to the point where it is so plastered to his head, one wonders if he actually has any hair at all.

Evenings after bath are typically spent with him in front of the mirror contemplating in which direction to comb his hair.




And, God forbid there’s a hair that’s misbehaving, because then he has to start the process all over again.

Maybe his dad needs to teach him a thing or two about hair that sticks straight up in the air.

My Precioussssss

June 4, 2011

I have this hair that grows on my arm at an unusual pace. Typically, it gets to a certain length and then a revolving door (or some other sort of apparatus) snatches it out of its follicle. Months later, I’ll find the follicle has produced yet another hair and, somehow, it’s already an inch long.

Today I am pleased to reveal a new record in my personal arm-hair-growing championship. Today, my friends, I reveal to you my arm hair measures…

Two and a half inches! Can you believe that? Brody says it’s getting embarrassing but I don’t know what he’s talking about. I mean, when I see that thing flying through the air I feel nothing but love.

I’m having an affair…

May 27, 2011

Dear Canon Rebel XS,

I lurve you. I foresee a beautiful friendship between the two of us. Call me (whispering voice).





Communication Skillz

April 14, 2011

Lena has really been developing her communication skills. She can taddle on Maddox, describe what she wants to eat (Pop Tart!) and even tells us when she wants to wear her Wildcat sweatshirt (Ra-ROAR!).

Why, just the other day she shared a special secret with Brody.

Bath Time Terror

March 24, 2011

It’s dusk. The children have finished eating their dinner (hot dogs and mac and cheese for the third time this week and it’s only Monday. That’s right.). The neighbor’s dog barks at a rabbit. Or at Stevie. The dog can’t tell the difference between a rabbit and Stevie.

One can hear the squeak of a bicycle as its rider breezes past the house. A teenager giggles on her phone a couple of doors down. It’s spring and the birds quiet their chirps as day turns to night.

And then comes the sound of running water. The pitter-patter of little feet.



Terrorized scurrying.

And screaming……ohh, the screaming.

It’s bath time at the Dorland house and it’s also time for Lena to poop, which poses an interesting challenge. You see, Lena just turned two and isn’t potty trained yet, and she always feels the urge to poop at bath time. The challenge here is that she doesn’t want to poop in the potty and she certainly doesn’t want to poop in the bath water; this results in a lot of rushing around in the bath so that we can put her diaper back on just to have her poop in it.

What proceeds is usually a lot of running around, tackling and pinning down of arms in order to pull clothes off. Obviously, there is also a lot of screaming. And crying. A lot of scream-crying.

Maddox is, more often times than not, sitting merrily in the bathtub as his sister’s head spins around and spews pea soup.