June Cleaver Nirvana

My first two boys were thumb suckers despite my best binky-pushing techniques. Eventually with each boy I finally gave up. Thumbs it was. Ryan also developed a very close relationship to his teddy. Reid also developed a very close relationship to his blanket.

When Rhett arrived, I half-heartedly pushed the binky. It was out of habit and without hope. To my surprise it took. He was officially a boy with a binky.

Binky + Boy = Love.



So I declared it...

Ryan had a teddy.
Reid had a blanket.
Rhett had a binky.

All was right with the world. I could keep up with three things. One special item for each boy. No problem.

And then Rhett decided that one binky just wasn't enough. If more was better than four was best.

FOUR B'S!



So, four B's it was. They were small. I could slip them into my purse or in a corner of the diaper bag.

Then he decided he needed animals to take a nap.

Not just one animal, but MANY animals.



Alright, animals. Animals we have. Animals he loves.

And then he decided he needed blankets.

Not just one blanket, but MANY blankets.



Alright, blankets we have. Blankets he loves.

The crib was crowded.

Crowded with love.



*Rewind*



One of these things is not like the other.

One of these things just doesn't belong...



Oh, that is Rhett's "hot dog".

It is on the A-list of loveys.

Who can fall asleep without a hot dog?



Yep, Rhett's "hot dog" is actually Shigella the microbe that causes a stomach ache.

Maybe Rhett's family has attended one too many health profession vendor fairs...

Hi to all of you who partake weekly in the potluck. Oh, and if you are new around here, please scroll below to the Trapper story. You really should start there.


Happy, happy Monday! Whooo hooo.

I am not serving food today. You will have to bring your own to the potluck. Deal, people. Deal. (rebel tendency #1)


On Friday my mom and I took the three boys to the Dallas Museum of Art. The place is fantastic. The kids were very interested in many of the things we saw. They were as well behaved as boys ages 2,4 and 7 could ever, ever expect to be. BUT that didn't stop the staff of the DMA from yelling at us for the following (rebel tendencies #2-#5):

1. We had just gotten into the building. We were walking down the hall that lead to the galleries. I want to emphasize that there wasn't a piece of art within 100 yards of us when my 3 boys ran up an empty staircase in the corridor. *gasp* Then they ran down. *gasp* A DMA staff member ran to me quietly shouting, "children should NOT be on the stairs unassisted. They could fall and hurt themselves." I assured her that they have been independent in their stair climbing for years. I had actually been proud of them for choosing an appropriate area to run off excess energy. Whatever. (Rebel tendency #2)

2. The boys had been told not to touch anything. They had followed this throughout the museum. Toward the end, Rhett(2) found a glass case that contained some really cool drawings. He pointed to them. His pointer finger touched the glass case. *gasp* A museum employee ran to us and sternly reprimanded my 2 y/o for putting a finger print on a glass case that was sitting on the floor. Really? Of all the things he could accidentally touch this seems like something that did no harm. Whatever. (Rebel tendency #3)

3. When we entered the museum I had checked to see if they had a photography ban. Nothing was posted. I had taken pictures (many are in my yesterday's post) throughout (without flash...the art is so beautifully lit). I took the picture of the random father/daughter because the moment unfolded right before me. *gasp* A museum employee flew across the room to give me a 10 minute lecture on what artwork could be photographed. According to my lesson, you can only photograph art that was a GIFT to the museum. Hmmmmmm. I missed the whole part where anything in the museum wasn't a gift from a foundation, person or taxpayer (me!). Whatever. (Rebel tendency #4)

I know! Right now you are thinking...WHO IS SHE? Where is our perky, harmless Holly?


Rotten Sweet potatoes. (Rebel tendency #6)

I just realized that I skipped rebel tendency #5...and I am not even going to change it. (I know! I know!)

I am going to switch this segment around a little today (rebel tendency #7) to throw AllTop.com under the bus (rebel tendency #8). I have been watching my stats and have received a total of 14 visits through the AllTop.com site. I have been responsible for at least 4 of those (rebel tendency #9). So, should I go join the much more fun AllMediocre.com hosted by my favorite blogging buddy, Meg? Please vote with your comments. (yes, that would be rebel tendency #10)


Oh, I gave that slogan to Meg while still listed on AllTop.com. (rebel tendency #11)


So today I am off to celebrate Ryan's last day of school. Last day? Celebrate? Would it be wrong of me to dread that summer starts tomorrow (rebel tendency #12)...

On Tuesday I made a serious scientific discovery.

I found that rain causes this:
And rain causes this:
And rain causes this:
And rain causes this:
And rain causes this:
And rain causes this:

My hypothesis: Thunder storms cause interior toy migration that is both random and epic in nature.

Today is blog-Stedman and my 16th wedding anniversary. I met blog-Stedman on registration day of my sophomore year in college in the girl's dorm lobby as I was moving into a new college. He called and left a message on my answering machine a few nights later to ask me out. Before returning his call, I walked out into the girls' dorm hall and asked the 15 random girls that were congregated there if anyone knew blog-Stedman. Every single girl knew blog-Stedman (small college) and not a single negative comment was made. Because this was my 4th year living in a girl's dormitory I completely understood the gravity my poll results. 15 randomly selected girls with nothing negative to say on any topic would be a miracle, but this was a boy...I had hit the lottery. I called him back. We went for our first date to a church meeting followed by Taco Bell. I took him home to meet mom and dad a few months later and when my mom found out that he liked to shop she said, "Holly, you are going to marry him". Yep, 2 1/2 years later we had a simple ceremony in a historic house in downtown Austin. My grandfather married us. My aunt played the piano. My 18 month old niece was the flower girl (and she actually made it down the aisle). We were surrounded by family and dear friends. Since that time we have moved 8 times to 5 different cities. Different places with ways of life, but one thing has remained constant, blog-Stedman. I can get a little gushy here because he doesn't read my blog, he "lives it". Blog-Stedman who puts up with my craziness and even encourages it. Blog-Stedman who is a wildly creative, super opinionated and relatively reserved. Blog-Stedman who is an amazing father, loyal hard worker and cozy husband. Blog-Stedman who spoils me rotten and endures my complaints, my faults, my cluelessness. Blog-Stedman who I know if I went out into any hall filled with people who knew him would get a rousing recommendation. So, dear reader, I am planning at least another 116 years with my lottery husband. But before we are sitting on our front porch in rocking chairs playing with our 34 grandchildren, we are going out tonight and party like its 1991.