Wednesday, April 25, 2012

Gold Digger

The other day in the car the song Gold Digger came on. For those who live a life blissfully unaware of Kanye West, the lyrics go "Now I ain't sayin' she's a gold digger, but she ain't messin' with no broke niggas" or something along those lines.

Charming and I'm sure I'm up for a Parent of the Year award for allowing my kids' precious brains to be sullied by Kanye. But they like it and it is rather catchy.

So little kid piped up from the back. "Mom?"


"I'm thinkin' I'm gonna marry a gold digger! 'Cuz then we could both be finding lots of gold and that sounds pretty fun!"

"Yes, good plan," I agreed, because that was the easiest way to go. "Just make sure she loves your mother."

(That's the one piece of advice I consistently bring up when discussing future spouses, gold digger or not.)

Monday, April 16, 2012


Mr. Ashley just bought me a kayak for our anniversary! A blue one.

Damn, that's going to look sexy on top of my SUV!

I'm officially sporty now, right?


Chuck Normous

little kid and I were talking about belly buttons today (a long time obsession of his) and I concluded with "and that's why everybody has a belly button!"

"'cept for Chuck Normous," little kid added, meaning Chuck Norris, another inexplicable obsession of my children.

"Chuck Norris has a belly button."

"Oh, come on. Now you're kidding me, Chuck Normous does not have a bebo," he said.

"No, really. Of course he has a belly button, he's a human being."

"I'm not so sure about that. How can you be invincible and have a bebo?"

"Chuck Norris is not invincible. He's just an actor and not even a really good one. He came from his mom's tummy and has a bebo like everyone else."

He looked at me with narrowed eyes. "Now I can't tell what parts of your story I'm 'sposed to be believin'. 'Cuz you're obviously lyin' about some stuff, like the part of Chuck Normous havin' a bebo."

I finally just agreed that I had never seen Chuck Norris' belly button, so maybe he doesn't have one after all. 

Friday, April 13, 2012

Know Limits

The boys just came back from an evening with my mom. Before I sent them to bed, I reminded them to brush their teeth and go to the bathroom again and added that they had probably had soda or something. Big Kid was instantly guilt stricken and blurted out, "I only had two candies! I know my limit!"

Laughing, I asked what he was talking about.

"He had three!" he said, pointing at little kid."One was a full-sized Twizzlers pack! And a soda! He was going to have a Dr. Pepper!"

"You're lucky they were out," little kid told me matter-of-factly, completely unconcerned.

"Uncle G gave us money and we spent it on candy. I know my limit though, I only got two items! Just two!"

"And soda!" little kid added happily as Big Kid glared at him. 

"He got THREE!" Big Kid screeched back.

"Big Kid," I said, putting my hand on his shoulder and looking him in the eye,"It's okay. You should live a little."

(I may have had a glass or two of wine while they were gone because two candies and a soda is living a little, really.)

"I'm playing it safe! I know my limits, mom!" he replied.

Big Kid is always playing it safe, and probably a better parent to himself than I could ever be.

And little kid should not have had three.

Thursday, April 12, 2012


I survived camping!

The worst part was getting all of our crap on and off of the island. Even roughing it, 4 ladies with 6 kids is a lot of stuff. And it was hot. And I saw a scary spider. And a baby woke me up around 6am each morning. And my contact lens ripped right as I was floating around in a kayak with a bunch of manatees. And my brother's expensive borrowed camera stopped working. And there were alligators and a scary storm and fire balls and a murderous canopy. But I still had fun! (And I didn't even drink the tequila. There was beer involved, though.)

Maybe I just really, really love the beach? I go 2-3 times a week but it never gets old. We went kayaking and watched sunsets while dolphins leaped out of the water right in front of us. The kids played until they dropped and lived in bathing suits from morning until night.

Unfortunately, apparently claiming that you will die instantly if there's rain pretty much guarantees rain. On the second night there was a terrible storm that broke one of my tent poles and lifted the tent stakes from the ground. The tent was blowing furiously and it was thundering and lightning outside. The heavy canopy right next to my tent wasn't staked down and I was scared it would hit us, so I dragged my sleeping children to the other side of the tent and peeked at it through the window as it crept closer to us. I tried to run out there and lodge it against the picnic table but it was heavy and I got nervous about being struck by lightning. Also, our fire, which previously wouldn't start, started in the storm and fireballs were blowing all around. And I had to pee, like crazy.

I was almost relieved when little kid woke up because it was nice to have someone to talk to (Selfish? Probably.) I asked if he was scared and he said yes and I said not to be. We talked quietly face to face and I made up a story that he didn't seem impressed with. He sighed deeply and I asked if he was still scared (because I was) and he said no, that I was breathing all of his air and he wanted to sleep. I survived the rest of the storm alone.

The island was gorgeous though and the people I went with were awesome. The manatees and dolphins were incredible. The kids had a great time and I've decided if I can do this, I can do pretty much anything (within reason...I don't want to do many things crazier than this).

But from now on I want a blow up mattress.

And maybe a cabin.

Monday, April 2, 2012

Outdoorsy Ashley

Tomorrow I leave to go camping on an island with 3 other women and our 6 children. Now that the plans are made and the car is packed...I am questioning my judgment. Seriously so.

I do not *love* camping. I like camping, and only if all goes well. I prefer camping with restaurants and hotels within a safe driving distance. A boat is dropping us off on an island and there's no returning prematurely or room service.

I hate sandy sheets. There will be a lot of sand involved, I'm guessing.

6 kids is a lot of kids. Like, 6 too many.

I know for a fact there are alligators on this island. I am not a fan of alligators at all.

 If it rains, I will die. Instantly. No exaggeration. I'm more worried about rain than alligators.

They are bringing tequila, but there's no room for juice or soda. If Mexico taught me anything, it's to avoid tequila. Mexico taught me that on two separate vacations, so I definitely got the message. This lack of room for soda is a problem for a coke addict. In fact, I am sneaking two cans of coke in my backpack in case of emergency. If we somehow get trapped out there forever and I have to eat my fellow campers, I'm washing them down with a can of coke.

However, they're all awesome, adventurous, seriously outdoorsy, sporty kind of people. So they should know how to put my tent up. I hope. And this is the sort of thing that the "Woman I Want to Be" would go do. So I'm going to go do it!

Wish me luck!