Holy First Communion, Batman!

I know, First Communion is supposed to be serious business, but c'mon, this is my family we're talking about. We don't do serious.

But I admit, I was a bit stressed dealing with dress, unruly veils and keeping Beck presentable (read: keeping him in unripped clothing. It's harder than you think. The boy can blow out the knees of a pair of pants by just thinking about it.)

But once both ruggies were dressed, I hurriedly tried to take photographic proof that they were both neat and clean and well dressed, you know, just in case they spilled something or sat in any mysterious stickiness on the 10 minute ride to the church. 'Cause that would happen. Trust.

Yeah, I know I have you staring directly at the sun, but dammit, stop squinting!

Beck, did you just yawn? I'm sorry, am I boring you? Ugh. Let's try one more picture, shall we?

Oh, damnit! Forget it! Just get in the car. And don't get dirty!

I'm not sure why I spent any time doing Morgan's hair either. It was W I N D Y!

Finally we made our way inside.

After Morgan nagged me for most of the mass with "I'm hungry, when do I get to eat the bread?", it was her big moment.

And as soon as Morgan received her communion wafer, Beck shouted out, "I WANT ONE TOO!". Ugh.


At the conclusion on the mass, Father Steve called the girls up and gave them each a special gift.
"Nice gloves. Madonna used to wear ones just like these."

"Now remember, boys have cooties..."

"Did your Mom do your hair? It's a mess. Here, let me fix that."

So we made it! And everyone stayed clean and tidy... well, until the ride home when Beck somehow got his hands on a marker and decorated his new dress shirt. *sigh*

Even the dog was wiped out by the end of the festivities.



Hope you all had a great weekend.




(the rest of this post is for the benefit of family members that weren't able to attend. Of course ya'll are free to stay. We'll break out slides from last year's vacation. Now let me whip up some dip.)

Pineapple! Pineapple!

Whilst enjoying a banana split tonight, Joe reminded me of how much a love this video. It's been around for a few years (and is of crappy quality - sorry), but oh how I laugh each and every time.

Nutty-ness

Last week I acquired a new tenant in the horse barn; a baby squirrel who thought I was his new BFF. As cute as he was, the little rodent in a fur coat was constantly under foot.

No really, I almost squished him several times.

The other night, Sir Nuts-A-Lot decided he was having a sleep over in Mr. Dee's stall. Still suspicious he may be a rabies-carrying vermin, I tried politely shoo-ing him out. He just ignored me and continued to roll around making little squirrel angels in the shavings. So then I tried pushing him with my boot. In an act of defiance, he went all stiff-legged and refused to budge. With nails digging into the wood floors and little squirrely skid marks all the way, I finally managed to get him into the hallway where he had a clear, straight shot out of the barn. But no, the stubborn little rat in a fur coat just sat there, refusing to leave. But now, as I booted his little squirrel behind nudged him onwards, he started to growl and lunge at me. Little bastard. The louder I cried yelled at him to leave, the louder he growled and jumped up and down angrily.

By now it was nearing midnight, and I couldn't let the horses in until the little squirrel was out of the way. As much as he was making me cry angry, picking up smooshed squirrel wasn't a pleasant option, for either of us. So I filled a bucket of water and tried to wash him out of the barn. He rode the wave of water a few feet and then turned back to look at me. He was not too happy. But still not budging.

By the second bucket of frigid water, he just looked plain pathetic and terribly sad as he slowly scampered out of the barn. Defeated.

I, unfortunately, spent the rest of the night reading up on Eastern Grey Squirrel and how you should never allow the baby squirrels to get cold and wet or they'll die a horrible death by hypothermia.
I'm a horrid baby squirrel killer. I. suck.

Or so I thought.

The next morning Nutty McNutNut was back out to greet me, no worse for the wear. But by then I had decided I needed to break out the Hav-A-Hart trap. Sadly, I have no idea how to set the damn thing. And while I tried figuring it out, he ran in and out of it, playing, and having a great time trying to figure out what the hell I was doing.

At least he was nice enough to pose for a picture with the trap.

By Day 3 he made himself right at home. He put on a great show for a crowd of people I had at the barn; playing amongst their feet, scampering around in everyone's way, mocking me by standing on his little Hav-A-Hart trap.

I finally had my victory when I caught the little bugger on Saturday night! As I laughed triumphantly at him in his cage, this little guy came to see what all the ruckus was about.

D'OH!
I quickly grabbed a bucket, and laid it on the ground...

...and he walked right in!

So now I had two squirrels, and it's Sunday morning...what to do? What to do?
And then it dawned on me!

HAPPY MOTHER'S DAY, MOM!
Aren't I just the best daughter ever?

And they're living the good life, being pampered squirrels.

Unless we get a hankerin' for squirrel melts...

Busy Weekend - In Pictures

WOW! What a gorgeous weekend! We took full advantage of it by jam-packin' it with tons of fun-ness. So much good times in fact, you're in for a lazy-ass post. You know, a picture's worth a thousand words, so...

Friday we loaded up 3 horses and hit the beach.

Morgan hitches a ride.

Storm and I getting our feet wet.

Di and Taz - We're not at the race track anymore, Taz

This is way better than life on the track!

Storm and Morgan

After riding on the beach, Morgan took off camping with Grammy and Bumpa for the weekend, while Beck, Joe and I headed for the ball park to watch a game and some fireworks. Beautiful night!

Saturday morning, we saddled up again and took the race horse for his first trail ride since he was still tired from his workout on the beach. He did fabulously!

Saturday afternoon, Beck and I enjoyed a different kind of ride!
Remember that little boy who had his first ride in a car at 2 1/2 years old... and screamed bloody murder the whole time?

He was loving the helicopter ride! Hooting and hollering the whole time... into his headset mic! OUCH!

note: NO DOORS!!!!

Sunday we joined Team E&M plus kids at the local amusement park.

Beck and a dinosaur.... oh, and a brachiosaurus.
So there you have it, my weekend update. Now I need a nap.

(Not At All) Wordless Wednesday - Rodeo Remix

I've always had this running Bucket List in my head and I've been fortunate to have been able to slap a big ol' check mark next to many of the items. Lived my dream as a trapeze artist... check. Stunt double in a movie.... checkeroo! Sailed through the Panama Canal .... check, Matey! Learned how to fly.... check-a-roo-ski! Meet Steven Tyler.... well, I'm still working on that.
Anyway, one of the items on my list was to ride as a flag girl in the rodeo... You know, this:

OK, except maybe sitting on the horse.

Anyhoo, I got my chance while living in Florida when I got hired by the Dodge Truck Rodeo Team. And I have to say, I loved it! Every week we got dolled up in gaudy, glittery, sequined outfits and galloped around the rodeo arena, carry the US flag or Dodge flag between each rodeo event. Midway through the rodeo we'd come out and perform a wild, galloping drill routine. Seriously, such an awesome job!
And did I mention copious amount of the tight little cowboy butts in tight little jeans. Occupational BONUS!

All this in exchange for just staying on my horse...

oh, and having to wear a cowboy hat.

Brazilians and Bobby D

Bev and I blew off all our adulty duties yesterday and headed to our favorite sweat shop nail salon for a little blog fodder pampering.
First we enjoyed relaxing pedicures. OK, I enjoyed a relaxing pedicure. Bev hurriedly did her homework for our writing class.

Why the rush? We had all of 5 hours before it was due.

The last time we visited this nail salon, they tortured us by forcing us to watch a Tyler Perry movie. And once it was over (Thank Gawd!), they started it over again. Of course, we could have just simply not watched it, but holy hell, they have 12 large LCD screens posted all over the joint. Besides, moving images on flat screens.... moths to a flame. Even if it's a total pile of suckage, Bev and I are watching it.

So we were not surprised to be entertained by yet another sucky, sappy film, Dear John, but were relieved to notice it was at it's sucky, sappy conclusion. Yay.

But as we were moving on to our manicures, they fired up Everyone's Fine. What has happened to Bobby D's career? Sigh

A quarter of the way through the film, Bev excused herself to the broom closet back room to be violated for her appointment with some hot wax.

Meanwhile, I had no choice but to allow my nails to dry and watch the movie. It was too late to stop. I was committed to see how this piece of poo ends. I then noticed one of the salon employees busting out his own portable DVD player. WTH? Even they hate this crap, and yet they make us watch it!

As he sat across the salon, enjoying his own film, he continuously kept turning down the volume of the movie showing on the big screens. Soon, I found myself leaning closer to the screens, practicing my lip-reading abilities, while he tinny little DVD player was turned up louder and louder.

And then suddenly it happened. The sound of an obvious porn flick filled the salon. YES! YES! YES! OHHHH OHHH OHHHHH! YEAH! YEAH! YEAH!.

I spun to face the ladies sitting next to me, also getting their nails done. Not a single reaction. I turned to the little Asian guy with his DVD player sitting on his lap, smiling.

OHHHHHHHHH!!! OHHHHHHHHHHH! OWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWW!

Did I take a crazy pill? Was I the only one hearing this? WTH!!!! Why is Bev missing this?! Where the hell is Bev?

Oddly enough, as it sounded like the scene was, *cough* coming to a conclusion, he finally turned the volume down.

I can't believe Bev was missing this.

Getting back to the cheesy Deniro film, which despite it's craptastic-ness, still made me cry (damnit!), I began to increasingly get worried that the film would never end about Bev.

But as soon as the credits rolled, Bev reappeared from the broom closet back room, a bit red in the face and muttering something about getting to the car NOW.

And dare say, she looked much younger.... I mean, much, MUCH younger. No, really, I mean, decades younger. So I hear. (yeah, you're going to want to click on that.)