Boomer Sooner!

Look at those Sooner fans! Their Daddy will be so proud.

I'm supposed to put a picture of Elisabeth on here, and soon, because she's the only one I haven't featured yet, and she has informed me of this . . . multiple times. But she's been sick at home for a week, looking sickly (eyeroll here), so I still don't have any good new pics to post. You know what? I'll post an old one:

Isn't she beautiful? Doesn't my good friend take fabulous pictures? There are some other really great pics from that session, but the thumbnails were too small for me to want to sift through.

We almost floated away yesterday in the rain. Our backyard still looks like a swamp. And after I told Caleb there would be no tornadoes last night, we turned on the news this morning, and lo and behold, there was a tornado (north of the metro, but still, Mom!!!!).

More Sleep, Please

Hannah probably won't like this picture. She never does. But I love her gorgeous smile.



Of course, I also want to cry when I look at this picture, because she has braces! That's terrible. How can she be getting so old?

Eventually I'll learn how to post regularly, I swear.

Yeah, right. I'll add that to my list. Like eventually I'll learn how to get Caleb to behave. Or eventually I'll learn to sweep the kitchen floor before Sariah eats yesterday's breakfast. Or eventually I'll learn to renew my library books in a timely fashion. Or eventually I'll learn to get a babysitter when one of the kids has something important to do. Yes, I had a busy day yesterday. It was one of those days where everything goes wrong, and you fall into bed at night grateful that tomorrow's a new day.

And then the baby was up from 2-4. And then as soon as she cried herself to sleep, it started thundering, and I had to let our pansy dog in (or rather I made Hannah do it, since she was now awake), and I had to let Caleb come sleep with me in the recliner because Hannah and Elisabeth were in my bed because the baby had to cry herself to sleep . . . at 4 am. And it's still raining. It's gonna be a good day. I can feel it.

Yum!

Now, this is the proper way to enjoy chocolate: a full body experience with as many of your comfort objects as you can manage. We were at a local bakery on Saturday, and the clerk gave baby girl a gingerbread cookie, conveniently dipped with chocolate, after he realized that the kids and I were only going to share our treats with her, and not give her one of her own. I guess I'm a mean mom. She sure did love that cookie.

The kids love going to that bakery. It's like standing in front of the candy counter at Sears. You stare at all the individual goodies and your mouth waters and you don't think you can make a decision because it all looks and smells so yummy.

Consistency, Future Lawyer, Bon Voyage, etc.

Shoot, 5 whole posts in as many days? That's the most consistent thing I've done since the pre-children era. Ok, well, I was pretty consistent with Hannah because she's good at that, but after her, everything sort of fell apart. So, since the pre-#2,3,4 & 5 era. Whatever.

Ok, onward.

So, I was all proud of myself yesterday morning, because I had effectively eliminated THE DREAD QUESTION aforementioned. Or so it appeared. My son, the future lawyer, modified the question just a bit. Now it's "Why couldn't I?" In an increasingly difficult attempt to look at the glass as half full (and to not feel compelled to tear my hair out), I choose to look at this not as his stubborn, hardheaded, overpersistent, nitpicking, test-Mom, push-all-Mom's-buttons by sheer force behavior, but . . . must take a deep breath . . . instead as his endearing, super-intelligent, persevering, steadfast, detail-oriented, get-him-through-life, future lawyer skill. And when he's a rich lawyer, he can pay for me in my old age. Nice. I like it.

And now wish us all luck this weekend. I, believe it or not, am about to spend 24 hours children-free. Imagine that. I can't. And Daddy is going to spend those 24 hours with our five fabulous children. And even better -- he is going to spend the evening with a friend whose wife will also be absent, and their 7 kids, and their 4 neices and nephews. That's 15 kids in all. Oh, to be a fly on the wall. There's something about movies and pizza and banana splits involved. Fun stuff.

Have a good weekend. I know I will.

Why Can't I?

Yesterday was the day of this fateful question. I'm almost certain that even without the picture you all would know who the culprit is.

Here is Rex. And Junebug the WonderPet. Rex is fearless. No hill is too steep, no mountain too tall, no ocean too wide or too deep. If, and only if, it suits Rex's purposes, it can be done. No question sums it up better than "Why can't I?"

See that halo up on the crown of his little blonde head? Looks just like one, doesn't it? I'm trying to remember that, because unfortunately, "Why can't I?" has been Rex's favorite question these last few weeks. He's been quite ingenious in employing the question, actually. It gives him an astonishing range of alternatives to . . . well, basically, to whatever Mommy suggests to him. He even uses it when any of the suggested alternatives are desirable.

Mom: "Rex, do you want chocolate ice cream or vanilla?"
Rex: "Why can't I have both?"

Mom: "Rex, for snack you may have a cheese stick or goldfish or a granola bar."
Rex: "Why can't I have an apple?"
Mom: "Hello!? When was the last time you voluntarily ate fruit?"

The problem is that usually, Rex's favorite questions rapidly become Mommy's least favorites, which is why I was forced to deny Rex his free speech rights yesterday, and ban THAT QUESTION.

I kid you not when I tell you that he asked me, yes it's true, "Why can't I say that, Mom?"

"Because, Rex, it's arguing every word that comes out of my mouth."

And he said, "No!! No, not every word!" Duh, Mom.

An Illustration of Illness

Yep, that's my boy. He came home from school sick yesterday afternoon. He was running a fever. A small fever, I grant you, but a fever nonetheless. He felt too sick to carry on, until I mentioned taking some pictures for the upcoming Primary Activity. Man, I wish I could do flips on the trampoline when I have a fever and a really bad headache. He is, in fact, so sick that he had to stay home from school today, and he has a doctor appointment later this afternoon. But what a sacrifice on my boy's part -- he can still muster up the strength this morning to get out of bed and jump on the trampoline with his brother if needed.

Here Comes Trouble....

Mondays have been Music Mondays at our house for awhile now. We've had Kindermusik on Monday afternoons for a long, long time, and there's no change in the discernible future, with Caleb's KM this year, and Rex's next year. And the girls have had piano lessons on Mondays, too. But Music Monday has slowly but surely started bleeding into Tuesday. First, it was Rex's Kindermusik class. Then Hannah's piano lesson. Then Elisabeth's piano lesson. And now apparently, Sariah wants a part in things. She's so proud of herself for making the piano sing. Plus, Mommy loves the new Pebbles 'do.

Ta Da!! My First Post! (Tracy's Tidings)

Bob will be so proud. He's only been hounding me to do this for months, and I figure he deserves it now that he misses out on a wee bit of the minutia of our daily life. And a blog is so much prettier than plain email.

I have great plans to write so much, so many astounding things. But who knew writing a blog could be so hard? Even for me, the queen of long-winded wordiness? It's taken me 2 hours to figure out what to name the goofy thing. I couldn't decide. I wanted something cute and quirky and easy to remember. I knew my number one requirement would be alliteration . . . I'm not sure why, I just need that for some reason.

I started out with our last name. H*****, that has potential, right?

How 'bout H***** Happenings? Too mundane.
Heavenly H*****? Um . . . yeah, right.
H***** Haven? Again . . . it's the goal, but the reality? Yeah, right. And it's cheesy, too.
H***** Hordes? Ok, however true it may be, it doesn't really shed an entirely positive light on us. Plus, you can take the alliteration a bit too far (Horribly Heinous H***** Hordes).

So, I got a little frustrated with the last name. After looking around a bit, I thought maybe I should do like so many of my friends and call it Tracy and Bob. Or would it be Bob and Tracy? See, that's the rub. I wouldn't want to start a row over what order the names should be in, especially since clearly Tracy is the most important part and should be first, but Bob might, just might, feel inclined toward a spell of contrariness.

So, then I had to switch to just my name, because really, is Bob going to post anything?, and I then got bored with the whole process, and gave up as soon as I found something that alliterated (is that a word?) with my very own name and met the basic purpose of my blog. If I wait for the perfect name, I'm pretty sure I'll never get started.

There you have it: the whole fabulous story of How to Name Your Blog.