Soccer would suck.

F-bomb in the car today, completely out of the blue:

"I SURE AM GLAD they don't have soccer in the dessert! ONE: it would be hard to kick the ball in the sand, and TWO: Daddy would be even MORE SWEATY!"

OK F-bomb! Whatever you say!

They have their moments

They love each other, they really do! Although Mel doesn't hide his adoration of F-bomb, he also doesn't hide the joy it gives him to irritate the crap out of her. Her love for him looks more like hesitant toleration to the untrained eye. Everyone tells me they will be very close. One day. Until then, even in the sweetest moments, the true undercurrents of the way F-bomb feels about him shine forth, and she gets her punches in where she can, in true F-bomb fashion...

Whatever you do...

DON'T. OPEN. THIS. BAG.




This situation is a testimony to how well the double-zip ziploc bags work. Trust, me, we would know by now if there was a leak! The "treasures" we collected from the beach at Salter's Point just are not valuable enough to open that bag and release the smells within it, in order to retrieve them. What a tease for the kiddos!

Don'tchoo judge me!!!

I know, long time no updates. Whatevah - like I tell the kids: You get whatchoo get and you don't throw a fit!

I'm not even gonna try and catch this thing up, so I will just jump in where we are right now...

Took a trip to Salter's Point yesterday with a friend and her boys since it was extremely low tide. It was rumored to have some pretty cool sea life to explore, so off we went.

Anyone who knows me is aware of my "aversion" to stepping on stuff. Like, ANY kind of stuff, grit, slime, grass, lake bottoms, etc. Heck, even the tiniest sliver of rogue ice chip coughed out of the fridge's dispenser sends me into convulsions. Yes, I know, I have a problem, but the first step is realizing and admitting you have a problem, so, step one: check! Off me.

We parked, hauled all the stuff down the steps to the "beach", and this is what I saw FIRST:


Not exactly the powder-fine white squeaky sands of the Gulf Coast, but, I was expecting that - "at least they aren't wet, icky, slimy, or jagged" I thought to myself. Still I had shoes on.

We plopped the stuff down, then continued on toward the water, because, you know, that's where the action is!

But there was one problem between us and the water, and it came in the form of this next level we had to work our way through:




OK, I had children watching me, for God's sake, so I took some deep breaths (and Melson's hand, since this stuff was slick as owl poo) and moved forward. I will take a moment to again remind you that "the fun Mom" I am not, nor have I ever tried or claimed to be. It's just not how I'm wired - so this whole experience was monumental for me on SO MANY levels.

We all "made it" to the water, physically unscathed, which is saying a lot, considering F-bomb was present. I won't mention the mental "scathing" I had endured by this point.

So the final phase of beachy goodness looked like this:


Yeah, Woot - that's what I was thinking too!!!! Every picture of feet I have from our morning was tiptoe - It is official that not one heel touched down during our excursion till we got off the "beach".

But the torture was somewhat worth it, because we did see some cool stuff, like starfish, crabs, clams, jellyfish, and some deep purple sea plant that was irredescent blue when you turned it in the light.





The highlight of the morning was when we all gathered around this "thing" with meshed teeth, that looked sort of like a piece of driftwood or a toad. I messed with it enough and the kids were squealing, we drew strangers over to look - just in time for me to really tick it off - it quickly retreated into the mud and shot out a gallon of water all over us! It scared us so bad!
We all screamed - even the stranger. SJ got the majority of the water - on her butt of course, because she was hauling booty. I swear all of us could have walked on water. Well, that was the end of the "fun" for F-bomb, and she trekked back up to the safe, dry, round rocks and sat the rest of the morning exploration out. Funny stuff.

So yeah, my "fun Mom" quotient has been maxed for the month. Let the OCD re-commence!