2014 Christmas Card

After several unsuccessful attempts to get our Christmas cards printed, we just gave up and put it online. So here it is (with a heavy heart due to the incompletion.)

Did someone say WRECK the halls??

Merry Christmas!!

Here we go again...

It's kind of funny that I just posted about this very subject last week! I always think my plans are fool proof until my fool of a husband proves me wrong! Deuce had his Christmas program at school today, so I laid out his clothes. The school requested he wear red and green so I bought a red undershirt and a green plaid button up to wear on top. When I got to his school for the program, my little man looked like this:

When I asked my husband what he was thinking when he dressed him; he responded, "I thought you were going for the 'preppy' look, you know with the collar coming out of the sweater." 

Wow! I informed him that the shirt was an undershirt not a sweater vest and of course all he could do was laugh at himself. So once again one of our children looked like a goober, unbeknown  to him, on a special day and mommy has learned another lesson. NEVER EVER let the kids walk out of the house without approving an outfit!

I won't even get started on the tennis shoes he wore instead of his cute little boots!!

Dysfunctional Daddy

Choosing to be a nurse can be very rewarding but also has its downsides, as most professions do. The biggest downside for me is having to work some weekends and Holidays. Unfortunately, I have to miss family gatherings, birthday parties, etc to go to work and take care of other people's family members on these special days. With that said, I try to make arrangements in advance so our kids can have the best time possible. My husband is a great dad and spouse, he does his best to remember the small details that matter to me but in the end; he's still a man and isn't detail oriented. When the kids have a birthday party on a day I'm scheduled to work, I get the present in advance and make sure it's wrapped, lay their clothes out so they don't look like they're sporting a homeless chic fashion trend, and make sure he knows the time and address of said party. Pretty self explanatory for him, right?

Nope! Not in our house!

 I went to work with confidence knowing that over the years I had perfected my plan for birthday party days. I had learned that wrapping presents, in appropriate themed paper, was not a given. We had the baby shower themed birthday party wrapping incident of 2007. He said it looked "kiddie" because it had teddy bears on it. He failed to notice the pink and blue rattles and "Baby Shower" written on the side! I had learned that allowing him to pick out an outfit for Hailey wasn't always the best decision. The one and only time I allowed that to happen, he dressed my little girl in a baby blue velour track suit that had huge red roses sewn on it and put a neon purple onesie underneath. When I asked what possessed him to dress her in that, he said it was hanging in the closet with the tags still on it so he thought it was special. It was special alright! It was hanging in there for the special day when we decided to take her mud riding and then use it to start a bon fire afterwards! I had learned that leaving the house for a birthday party didn't mean that he knew where he was going or that bringing the invitation just in case he needed the phone number was also not always a given. I had learned so many lessons and knew this time would be disaster free. 

I came home from work, excited to find out how the party went. Since I work 12 hour shifts and get home late, Hailey  was usually ready for bed when I walked through the door. But to my surprise, she was still running around in her party dress. I asked my husband if they got home late and he said they didn't. I asked if we had somewhere to go and he said we didn't. So I asked why she wasn't ready for bed. He looked at me with a strange expression on his face and looked over at her, then back at me and said, "she is." This answer left me confused so I asked him what she wore to the party. I shouldn't have asked! He went to the dirty clothes pile and dug out a shirt and pants, held them up and said, "These! You had them laid out for her to wear. I'm not dumb, I put her in what you had out." My response was not the nicest thing I've ever told him by far! It went something like, "Well, Mr. NOT dumb, THOSE are her pajamas!!! Those were for after the party."  He tried to defend his thought pattern saying that he thought the dress was a nightgown and that I had pants laid out so it would be easier for her to play and some other ridiculous  nonsense. I stopped listening because I couldn't believe that my foolproof plans were again, proven by a fool to not be foolproof!

Needless to say, I've kind of given up! If you invite my kids to a party, please know they may show up 3 hours late to a pool party in snowsuits with an over the hill gift bag. I apologize in advance; it's just who we are!

You had ONE job...

As most mothers do, I try to make our kids' actual birthday as special as I can. They have parties where they celebrate with friends and family but their actual birthday is something we celebrate only with our immediate family. However, this year I decided that in addition to our family celebration, I would send breakfast and a snack to school for our little man's special day. 

The day started out with a special breakfast for the birthday boy. Usually based on whatever their favorite food is at the time, this year was doughnuts. He was really into Superman and Team Umizoomi and when I found a place that was willing to accommodate my request; I was ecstatic! However, as most perfectionists have encountered, I wasn't thrilled with the end result. 

Not too bad...but if I could cook, my crazy make it perfect self would've kicked into gear. Oh well! Deuce liked them, so we will say it was a success!!

I had a shirt made for him to wear to school:

Next came his birthday dinner. We went to a few different pizza places with a photo and an idea to see who was willing to accommodate us. We found one and when we ordered pizza for dinner, to Deuce's surprise, Superman sent him a very special birthday pizza. 

Again, the "S" was little blurry but it got the job done! Up next, dessert...

I'm far from a cook, as I've written about several times before this post. I try but usually unsuccessfully! I was super proud of my homemade cupcakes that I free handed trying to accommodate our son's interest of the year. He was happy which made us happy...

I actually managed to make both kids happy by incorporating Superman and a Frozen theme. 

Last item on my list was making sure he opened presents that he would love:

Nailed it!! 

Now, I gave my husband ONE job! ONE JOB!! All he had to do was approve and pick up the cookie cake. I called ahead and made sure they could design what we wanted, I verified exactly what it needed to say, how to spell everything, what date it was needed, etc. So imagine my surprise when my husband sent me this picture of what he dropped off at school...

Who the hell is "Dence?" Our child's name is Deuce! The one thing on the cake I would hope he would definitely know how to spell...he didn't! Wow! Really? 

I try to be patient, I try to be understanding, I TRY not to freak out over the little things in life but not realizing that our child's NAME was spelled incorrectly sent me over the edge! There was A LOT of yelling and profanity, followed by laughter and apologies for my reaction but in the end we have yet another story to tell and another lesson learned (before my husband leaves the cake shop, send a picture for a second approval, lol) and the memories of our sweet "Dence's" 3rd birthday will always be with us. 

The stories behind our 2013 Christmas Card, Part 3

The final installment of our 2013 Christmas card explanation starts with the overwhelming anxiety that engulfs me every holiday season. Due to the fact that New Orleans is a culture significantly based on food, when the holidays roll around most people are ready for delicious food. I CAN'T provide that! I was raised in a family of women with a sub par track record for cooking success. To give a better idea of what I mean that my mother wasn't the best cook: I was born on the 12th of the month, brought home on the 13th, and was forced to relocate after an unfortunate toxic fire on the 15th. Apparently my mother didn't know that plastic baby bottles should not be warmed in the microwave for an extended amount of time. There was also an electrical fire, another baby bottle incident on the stove, and when she got a new stacked  "double" oven she didn't realize there was a protective plastic wrap on the top of the bottom oven and a simple preheating turned into a National Lampoon's Christmas Vacation type of disaster. 

I have personally only set the kitchen on fire 4 or 5 times; however, my husband continues to insist that HE should cook the Holiday meals to keep the premium on our home owner's insurance to a minimum. Nonetheless, we learned on Thanksgiving day 2013 that not all accidents occur just when I'm cooking, they also occur when I'm in the kitchen! My cooking issues caused my anxiety to be at an all time high so we got a babysitter and went out for mommy and daddy drinks on Thanksgiving Eve. We rolled home in the wee hours of Thanksgiving morning and I had enough liquid courage to enter the kitchen to attempt to "enhance" our holiday meal. I added some spices and went to bed. 

Throughout the night, I had a horrible pain in my elbow but continuously rolled over and went back to bed. I woke up to discover this Thanksgiving surprise:

I leaned over the stove to try the potatoes and burned my arm on the stove. It didn't hurt at the time but the next morning was an entirely different story. 

So, our 2013 Christmas card consisted of exactly what our year had brought us. 

"The Hermanns got run over by a reindeer, side swiped by a sleigh, and roasted over an open fire!"

We hope your Holiday season brings you happiness and fun and pray ours leaves us free from injuries and ER visits!

The Stories behind our 2013 Christmas Card, Part 2

My husband is the most accident prone person I know! Seriously! I have NEVER met a man who can injure himself as much as he manages to do. Let me help you understand what I'm trying to explain. A few years ago he somehow flipped a bucket truck, while he was in the bucket, and fell 30 feet down. The end result was a shattered calcaneus. He was on crutches for about 3 months. Less than 6 months later, on his birthday, he was stomping around the attic and got his foot stuck between 2 of the beams. He lost his balance, fell backwards, crashed through the ceiling and wound up with a tib/fib fracture. This one required a couple of surgeries, a few weeks in a wheelchair, and another 3 months on crutches. Fast forward a few years and a couple of dozen injuries and we get to 2013. To be exact, his birthday in 2013. 

He went to work early that morning and around 10 am, I received a text. "I'm on my way to the hospital, I'm fine but I hurt myself." I don't know why I didn't immediately realize that this was not a "little" accident, after all it involved MY husband. I asked a few questions and  discovered that a hydraulic torque wrench slipped off of the bolt and hit him in the face. I asked him to send me a picture of the damage and this is what I received:

Sorry for the grainy picture, I can't find the original. 

Yep! That's his idea of a "little" accident! A busted lip, front tooth removed, and (we later found out) a fracture to his jaw. 

After a few surgeries, stitches, implants, and a permanent replacement; he is as good as new. Well, maybe not as good as new but equivalent to his pre birthday accident self.

 Now we just await the next self inflicted "accident" to occur so we can start a new chapter in his injury book. 

The stories behind our 2013 Christmas card, Part 1

A child's "firsts" are always so special to parents. It's even more special when the child becomes a toddler and understands when he/she has done something without help for the first time. The excitement in their eyes and the smile on their face can make a parent's eyes fill with tears of joy. NOT IN OUR HOUSE!!

Our son, or who I lovingly refer to in situations like this as "my husband's child," was getting ready for a bath and decided to be a big boy by taking his own shirt off. After a few minutes of him squirming around looking like the imposter sign language person during Obama's speech at the Nelson Mandela Memorial, he managed to get it off. He beamed with pride and giggled uncontrollably! I failed to notice that he didn't remove the arm holes from his hands and when he began jumping around, in what I can only assume was a victory dance, he managed to drop his hands down (with the shirt still looped on his hands) and trip over his shirt causing him to face plant into the toilet. 

Cheers of victory turned into Texas Chainsaw Massacre screams!

A picture message to the pediatrician to confirm what was needed and off to the ER we went. 

Now, let me back up 2 days. I had a function to attend and left the kids home with a babysitter. The babysitter called while I was out to tell me that Hailey had fallen off of her bike and had some scratches but was ok. I said ok and left it alone but when I got home I saw the damage. I asked bugs what happened and she said, "Last time I fell off my bike, the handle bars got messed up. So this time I protected my bike and just let my face hit the ground." With that little prior event in mind, THIS is what I'm walking into the ER with:

No surprise that after we were triaged, the MD came in and asked my daughter, "wow! What happened to your brother?" I started to answer but was abruptly stopped and told, "I asked her, not you." I, of course, realized what was occurring at this point. Hailey cheerfully told the story while giggling at her brother's inherited clumsiness (he gets it from his father's side!) and the MD then asked what happened to her. She told her tale of protecting her bike with her face, through innocent smiles and a little blushing from embarrassment. The MD then proceeded with his exam of Deuce. As he was leaving, he smiled and said, "Looks like you have your hands full. Sorry, if I was abrupt before but I hope you can understand that when someone brings in a toddler looking like that and then his sibling follows looking just as bad...we have to question some things." I told him I understood and he smirked while telling me that he could foresee several ER trips throughout the next few years and to make sure we always have lots of triple antibiotic ointment and bandages at home. 

This was the final result of our week:

A week after this picture, we were at Academy and I found a way to make sure Deuce was as "safe" as I could make him:

Not the average Christmas card...

When I was a kid, Christmas cards were a little folded piece of card stock with signatures and maybe a clever phrase. With technology, came progression of the Christmas card. Picture cards with cute "snowy" scenes (even though most of my friends are from the south and it's 90 degrees on Christmas Day) beach scenes, video clips, etc. We tried sending the typical family picture card with us in a studio, posed and smiling big but it didn't work for us. 

So, we decided to go a different route. I can honestly say that some of our best memories were making these cards. It seems that a lot of families have opted to try our non traditional card theme over the years but we love making these cards and they really express our silliness as a family so we will continue our little tradition. 

Here are a few of our favorites:

"Be bad this year and save Santa the trip!"

"Mommy's silent night"

"Jingle Bell, Jingle Bell, Jingle Bell ROCK!"

"Staching through the snow"

And with our accident prone family, this one probably describes our life the best!

"The Hermanns got run over by a reindeer, side swiped by a sleigh, and roasted over an open fire!"

Carpool drop off

My daughter's school started at the crack of dawn! If she rides the bus, she has to be dressed, fed, and waiting outside by 6:10. I think this is insane both for her and myself! (Who has time to brush their teeth and toast pop tarts that early in the am?!?) So our only other option was carpool line. The kids and I would pile into the car and head out on our 1 mike adventure to school. Now, as I said, I don't like mornings, especially early mornings. I would normally wake up, throw on some sweat pants, coax my medusa hair into a ponytail and head out the door. However, my laziness was abruptly brought to a screeching halt when I saw the other moms in carpool line. They were fully dressed, hair and makeup done and ready for their day. I didn't want to embarrass my baby, so I conceded and joined the "popular" group by getting ready before school. 

One night after work, a few of my co-workers went out for drinks. I joined them  even though it was a school night and even stayed out late! I was home by midnight but that's a good hour and a half later than this grandmaw mommy normally makes it. Anyway, add a slight hangover to already treacherous mornings and you have a not so happy mommy who just wants to crawl back in bed! I gave into temptation that day and knew I would get away with "sneaking" through the carpool line unnoticed. We pulled up, an ever so eager student opened the back door to let Hailey out and I heard a clank. The student leaned over and I saw her face change. It was a face I was familiar with but couldn't place at that exact moment. She placed something in my backseat and looked at me politely saying with a slight giggle, "have a good day!" Her eyes had wandered to my console while she said it so I looked down to see what she was looking at. 

Wine glasses, damnit! How did I miss those and what idiot friend of mine put them in my console? So I peered into the backseat to see what she placed back in my car. An empty wine bottle! Double damnit! It then dawned on me what the look on that innocent student's face was that was so familiar to me...it was the face of judgement!! I had just driven through carpool line at a Cathoiloc school looking like 30 shades of a hot mess, with wine glasses in my console and an empty wine bottle fell out of the car while dropping off my 3rd grader!

All of my time and effort of trying to not embarrass my child had just been catapulted out the window with a single clank! 

That was the day we decided to stop saving for college and start saving for therapy bills! It just seems more realistic!

Oh baby it's Christmas!

'Twas the night before Christmas and all through the house, EVERY creature was stirring and you couldn't hear a mouse if you wanted to! We had a fun filled day jammed packed with food, crafts, activities, presents and visitors. Between the kids' sugar highs and anticipation for Santa coming, they couldn't contain themselves! Deuce literally went into super excited freak out mode and was eating wrapping paper. If we could get their energy levels down just a little, like that of a jack Russell puppy, we may be able to get them to sleep. Ha! Fat chance! We attempted to put out presents in between servicing the needs of water breaks, bathroom breaks, tummy aches, and the occasional, "he/she hit me, is hogging all the covers, keeps farting," etc. We finally finished around 1:30 am and climbed into bed exhausted and delirious. It didn't take long for both of us to pass out. BANG! That's what we got to wake up to. Our bedroom door was slung open and our youngest screaming, "it's Christmas!" I looked at the clock... 1:45. We explained it wasn't Christmas yet and put him back to bed. Again, we fell asleep. I next time I woke up to the covers being slowly pulled back and our daughter crawling into bed asking, "is it Christmas yet? Did Santa come?" I looked at the clock...2:05. We again explained that it was not time to get up and it was time to go to back to bed. They alternated coming into our room over the next hour until we finally gave up. My husband got out of bed and said whenever the next one gets up, it'll be Christmas. We can open presents and go back to bed. So, we waited...and waited...and waited. NOW they were ready to sleep!!! Oh no!!! Not now! Not after we've been trying to sleep for hours and they wanted it to be Christmas! 

So, we did what any delirious, sleep deprived parent would have done in that situation, we woke them up! Well, it wasn't so much of a wake up as it was dragging each of them out of beds while they whined how tired they were. Were they kidding?!?! Was this a sick game to try and drive us nuts?!? 30 minutes prior they were bright eyed and ready for the day to start but NOW they wanted to sleep?!? Nope! Not happening!! We finally did get them out of bed and we have great pics of them sobbing as we lead them down the hallway into the living room. Little did we know, the fun had only just begun for us as now we faced the challenge of putting all the new toys together that they received. 

I'm including my facebook post from Christmas morning, remember I was TIRED! VERY tired!! Lol. 

"OMG!! Been up since 3:30 and neither Olin nor myself could figure out this stupid ferby boom and iPad app. Let's just say several Christmas f-bombs have been thrown out along with threats of microwaving and boiling this little gremlin wanna be!! 2.5 hours later and we finally got this neglectful piece of digital crap to hatch it's eggs and Hailey is as happy as can be. On the other hand, Olin and I are VERY sleep deprived and if they had a ferby CPS, we would turn "may boo" in without a second thought! Merry Christmas!"

It's a blurry picture but you can see the aggravation on the little one's face. 

I had to stay back so they wouldn't go get back in their beds. 😊🎄🎅🎁

We just needed groceries

I took my children to a local grocery store and after about an hour of getting the things we actually needed while simultaneously sneaking things back on the shelves that our clepto toddler placed in the basket; we headed to the checkout. It was unusually quiet in the store and the elderly couple in front of us were obviously stockpiling groceries for hurricane season...for the rest of their lives!! As always, the natives got restless while waiting to help put the groceries on the belt. Now, most grocery stores have impulse purchase items stocked next to the registers, I don't know why they feel the need to have batteries, lighters, breath mints, and tampons all lined up in a row but to each his own. This particular day the store had a large quantity of razors on the shelf and I saw my daughter looking intently. (Warning: this is more personal info than anyone needs to know!!) She proceeded to turn around and loudly ask, "mommy, how come when daddy's home you shave (as she asks this she has her hand open and is swirling it in a circular motion around my crotch region) and when he's gone you don't shave anything?" 

What do you do at this point? Is there ANY answer you can possibly give that won't draw anymore attention to your crew of misfits? Here is a child who can't remember that she has to brush her teeth every morning but now all of the sudden she knows the intimate schedule of my "personal maintenance!" And better yet, shares it with the entire grocery store!!! I did the only thing I could think of and left the basket, grabbed each kid by the hand and did a mommy's version of the walk of shame!

A quick trip to the department store

Imagine you walk into a store...

There is a woman with a cart and she has a little boy in front and a young girl at her side. Things seem sweet and innocent. She leans over to look for a shirt in a certain size. The little boy unbuckles himself, reaches over and grabs a hanger. The little girl is whining LOUDLY asking for a snack as her mom is busy rummaging through shirts. The little boy says, "mommy watch." He proceeds to shove the hanger up his nose and his sister starts hysterically laughing and starts popcorn farting. The little boy is now hysterically laughing and jumping up and down in the shopping cart seat. The sister suddenly stops laughing and her face changes...she says, "mommy, I just went poo poo a little". The little boy starts screaming, "POO POO!!!!! Sissy went POO POO!!! P U, sissy stinky!!!" The little girl bursts into tears. The mom quickly rushes the kids towards the bathroom as the little boy uses the hanger to claw and knock over everything in their path while still screaming at the top of his lungs that his sister just crapped herself. 

Your planned day of shopping fun can go very wrong in a just a few minutes. Plan ahead!! NEVER leave the house without a bottle of wine and a set of extra clothes for the kids. 

For the love of God...

As many parents of toddlers have tried, we decided our son was old enough to understand how to behave in church. So being the dumb morons that we are, we brought him to church with us. The service started out as usual with hymns and readings and I watched my son scanning the church looking for some type of entertainment; none was to be found. What do all toddlers do in this situation? They make their own! I quietly whispered through a make shift smile and gritted teeth, "son, whatever you're thinking about doing; DON'T!" A little preventative encouragement never hurt anyone. We stood up for the gospel and off he went! Down the aisle, through the roped off section designated for someone that wasn't us. (Side note: I still don't know who these pews are "reserved" for as nobody ever sits there but nonetheless they are roped off like a museum exhibit every week) I chased him as he giggled with content that mommy was squeezing through a crowd of people trying to catch him. I finally managed to silently draw him into a game of "chicken," grabbed him up and headed back to our pew. A few boxes of Cheerios later and things were going well. Now, it was time to kneel. To most a kneeler is a reminder to get on your knees out of respect for the presence we are in, or as a sign of humbleness, or even repentance but not to our child. This is a cool gadget that everyone got to slam on the ground and make noise with when mommy said we have to be quiet. The wheels started turning in that warped little mind and now he had a new toy to play smash the man's toes whose sitting on side of us. Up and down, up and down, up and down he went. I grabbed him up again while apologizing to the man on side of us and scolding the little sadist again through gritted teeth and internally apologizing to God for the choice words running through my head while in church. But it was almost over, all we had to do now was kneel one more time, then communion and we were out of there! Down the kneelers went and the havoc wreaking monster was occupied with the hymnals. I looked up at the altar and before my arm could go out to grab him, off he went again! This time he was standing on the pew running with a hymnal in each hand, smacking the people on his left in the face and the ones on his right in the back of the head. At this point, I couldn't even chase him because I was in a dress and that would require me to crawl across the pew and flash my not so goodies to the entire church community! All I could do was sit and wait for him to come back. It was a VERY long time before he chose to do so as he knew the punishment for this latest antic was probably going to be bad. He tried giving me his sweet and innocent smile but when that was ignored, out came his apologies and sad face. I immediately walked him to the back of the church and waited for the mass to end. As with most communities, the priest exits first and greets everyone as they leave. This was my worst nightmare after the chaotic events that had taken place. We waited in the line and when it was our turn to exit, I hung my head in hopes that we could just slide out without confrontation. The priest smiled at me as he gently took my arm into his hand and whispered, "God won't be mad if you miss a few Sunday's in the future." 

City Park dysFUNction

"Let's go to City Park and ride the rides," my innocent children said.  Being the naive mother that I am, I made arrangements to have a destination playdate with another family.  We all piled into the car and off we went.  The day started out fun with super slide rides and climbing through mazes but then came the kiddie cars. My son wanted to ride the cars so badly but the attendant said an adult had to ride with him.  Now, this seemed like a simple task as the back of the truck was open and we could have both fit easily into the ride.  However, as all 3 year old boys who are inticed by the magical truck ride would be, my son wanted to "drive." Remember, this ride is designed for CHILDREN! The front is enclosed and the only way I could get in was to go "butt first" and kind of shimmy inside. Oh!!!!  The humiliation of that 90 second ride that felt like an eternity. I thought it would never end and that the worst was over...no no!! It had only just begun! I then had to get out.  The best way I can describe the "situation" is the scene from Ace Ventura when he is trying to escape from the mechanical rhino...there was a lot of grunting and maneuvering to get my fat behind out of this midget clown mobile but nonetheless; I made it.  I may have had a concussion and bruises in places that God NEVER intended them to be BUT I did it for my child's happiness.  He better appreciate this aforementioned dedication to his happiness because I promise I will bring this up for years to come!! And before any smarty pants ask, YES, there was a kind soul there who was more than eager to document this event and take pictures but I will not post them.  Mostly because I was making vulgar finger gestures in the most inconspicuous ways I could being that I was on a kiddie ride but also because I will not give anyone the pleasure of seeing me look like Godzilla playing at a Polly Pocket amusement park! 

A Typical Day

Let me start by saying, this truly is the norm at our home. I don't know how I got so "lucky" to be blessed with this goofy crew that I call my family but nonetheless; I got them. 

I woke up to my son's behind in my face and him ripping a fart that would put grown men to shame while he screamed, "how ya like that? Oh yea!"

After I regained consciousness and unsuccessfully attempted to retrieve my sense of smell from my burned nasal passages; I headed to the bathroom to get in the tub. After a few minutes, I heard some commotion in the living room. Not uncommon in our house...but this one was different. I could hear the dog scampering and my son giggling, so curiosity took over and I got out to see what was up. As I walked down the hallway, I saw my son running around completely naked and before I could even speak, I felt myself starting to slide. As I hit the ground propelling towards the bar, I got a clear visual of what was happening. He was trying to pee on the dog! He was running all over the house, peeing on EVERYTHING, trying to get some on the dog. That's also when it hit me, the floor wasn't wet this morning. Yep, I was on my son's personal urine slip n slide. Back to the tub I went! 

I had enough time to finish bathing when again, I heard something in the living room. This time it sounded like our dog running for her life!  A few seconds later, here comes the dog running full force through the bathroom door and right into the tub with me. She looked like something from a southern decadence parade! She was every color of the rainbow. Obviously, Deuce had found the sidewalk chalk and decided that our predominantly white pup, needed a little color. I got out of the tub again to take the chalk away and now bathe the dog. Our son and daughter came into the bathroom at this point to see what's going on as our dog hates to be bathed and was causing quite a commotion. Our daughter apparently picked up on the fact that I was about to lose it and belted out her beautiful version of "let it go." However, it sounded more like a cat in heat and the dog darted out the room. As she ran, she knocked our son over causing him to hit his head on the door frame. He, of course, started screaming. I picked him up to comfort him and check out his latest head injury but I heard a sound coming from beside me. It was our daughter...gagging! I didn't understand why until I pulled our son's head from my shoulder and the string of snot he had created while sobbing was hanging from his nose to my hair. Before I could tell her to turn away, I felt the splash of vomit on my leg and foot. So, back in the tub we went...

Just a typical morning in our house, so the moral of this story is...don't judge your co-workers who show up drunk at 9am, you have NO idea what they've been through already!