P. Diddy Carter

Carter asked me yesterday,


"Mom, what is a 'brother from another mother'?


Wow. Hmmm. Not sure where to take that one.


I just told him it was like a best friend.


Then he said, "Great! Isaiah and me are brothers from another mother!"


Oh well.

The Oreo Bandit

So, I made some cookies. Not just any cookies...Homemade Oreos. Mmmm. I don't ever make homemade oreos just for fun. They are used strictly to impress, if you will. But they are for sheezy tasty, and they are a great way to say thank you to someone. It turns out that I had four awesome women to thank.

It took me 2 hours to make those flippin' oreos with the homemade cream cheese and pink-tinted frosting. I was definitely multi-tasking all afternoon and feeling a bit on edge. I happened to have a busy week with church responsibilities, my preschool and my own family activities, so my window of time was limited to that afternoon only.

When all five dozen cookies were done, I took several out for my own family (because I'm kool like 'dat) and put them in a ziploc. I took the rest and packaged them in cute bags with a nice pink bow with THE EXACT AMOUNT IN EACH BAG FOR EACH FAMILY. I then placed the bags in the freezer so the cookies would stay nice and fresh. I could then deliver them in the next couple of days. Please see Exhibit A below:

You may be asking, "Why go to all the trouble Leslie?" Is it because I am a Martha Stewart wanna-be? Is it because I have an extra two hours everyday that I needed to fill? Is it because I have nothing else to do but hum a tune and roll dough balls? No, no, and no. I did it because I wanted these women to know how truly appreciated they were. (And let's be honest...to impress. Otherwise I could have just bought oreos, right?)

Now, let's back up and look at this cute guy.

Please see Exhibit B below:
Yeah, he's cute alright. Cute and always hungry. You know what happened. It is such a husband thing to do. While I was out, this cute guy and our children finished off the cookies that I had reserved in the ziploc. That's quite alright...that's why I reserved them some. Well, apparently, they were really extra good because when I walked in the door later that evening, this here cute guy is chewing and chomping on yet another oreo. He had helped himself to a cookie in one of the pretty bags with the pink bow AND THEN RETIED THE BOW...SO THAT MAYBE I WOULDN'T NOTICE???

Me: "Where'd you get that?"

Cute guy: (Acting all innocent) "The freezer."

Me: "You have got to be kidding me." (The steam is shooting out my ears.)

Cute guy: (Huge twinkle in his eye, trying not to laugh) "I didn't think you needed those anymore."

Me: "When in our 12 1/2 years of marriage have I EVER packaged cookies for you to eat?! I had those counted out perfectly for each member of their families! I can't believe you ate one!"

Cute guy: "Sorry. They are just cookies. I'll make some more if you want."

Me: (I'm just plain getting nasty and rude now because I WAS SO MAD) "Oh no you won't Mister! I want them to taste good and look cute!"

Sneaky Willy. Sneaky Willy sent his wife into a psychosis.

I woke up the next morning thinking that maybe I overreacted...oh, I was mad at him. I didn't let him off the hook though...he really needs to NOT be eating cookies packaged with pink bows...EVER! (I think that's pretty engrained in him now...heehee) It's not the first time I've gone psycho on him, and I wish I could tell you that it was going to be the last. Do not worry though...no need to contact the Dr. Phil show. We are going to be okay because he is the cutest oreo bandit I know.

Future Author Alert: Part 2

Oh, this is great. I am still laughing out loud. Taylor just showed me some more correspondance that she has had with her "publisher."

PUBLISHER:

Dear Mr. Taylor Nikolaus,

How are things coming along with your manuscript? As agreed, here is our offer this August: (blah, blah)

Sincerely,
Mrs. Blah Blah

TAYLOR:

Dear Mrs. Blah Blah,

I'm sorry but I can't do this publishing thing. Third grade has started and it's too complicated. So sorry.

Sincerely,
Taylor Ann Nikolaus

P.S. I am a Miss not a Mr.

PUBLISHER:

Dear Ms. Taylor Nikolaus,

I apologize for the wrong salutation. Should you have more time to work on your book, just let me know.

Yours truly,

Mrs. Blah Blah

Lerks & Elf Poop

We went camping last weekend near Show Low. I don't mind camping...for one night, that is. I do it mostly because our kids love it. I do love a good tin foil dinner, s'mores, getting out of the desert heat, and the beautiful scenery. I don't love the stink all around me, sleeping on hard dirt and rocks, black smoke boogers, hungry bears, and again, the stink all around me. Anyway, we had a great time with Willy's family. Here are a couple of pictures of our car ride there:
I had the following conversation with my sweet 3-year-old today:

Tate: Mom. 'Member when we saw de lerk?

Me: What? The lerk?

Tate: Yeah, de lerk wiff de elf poop.

Me: Say what? Lerk and elf poop?

Tate: Yeah! (getting frustrated) When we went camping, we saw de lerk wiff de big horns and de elf poop!

Me: Oh yes. The elk and the elk poop. Yes, I remember.

We did see a few elk on our drive out of camp as well as some elf, I mean elk poop, on our hike earlier that day. I love kids...you never know what sticks with them.

Did You Say a Dwarf?

I love to run. I absolutely love signing up for races. It's a chance to set a goal and physically and mentally push yourself. It feels so great to work so hard. Then, when race day arrives, it is just a blast with all of the adrenaline and fellow runners. It's kind of addicting. I've often joked with friends that once you get to the race, every other runner becomes your best friend. You find yourself being so friendly with each other with encouragement, high fives and so forth...it's like you've known the stranger next to you your whole life. (Not cool when they start talking about their hysterectomy.)

I signed up for my fourth half marathon in Flagstaff, AZ (3 hrs away) with my good friend Christine Olsen. She had a baby about 6 months ago and wanted to use this race to get back into the swing of things. We booked a hotel in Flagstaff and hauled our families up for our big day. Poor Willy...he's always such a good sport.

I really felt a blog post coming on with this one. I could barely contain myself; I was so ready to type! Where do I begin?

Okay, Christine booked our hotel on the Internet. All I have to say is FALSE ADVERTISING! Foul smelling, 1955 popcorn ceiling with leaky water bubbles, bathtubs with...uh...hair that's not on your head...you name it.

Here's her daughter Paige and Taylor in front of it. Can you say, "Norman Bates?" Oh, we got a kick out of it. But this is the best part...

Every runner knows that it is very important to get a good night's sleep the day before a race. This is a clip from the door of our room at the beautiful and peaceful view of the infamous Route 66.


Here are some other highlights:

1. We woke up at 5:45 a.m. to get to the race that started at 7:00 a.m. Oops...just kidding. The race started at 7:30 a.m. One hour to kill. They weren't even all the way set up!

2. We needed to use the port-a-potty before the race. We stood in line. I totally opened one up THAT WAS GREEN AND UNLOCKED only to find a grandma squatting yelling, "HEY!!!" Do people think those port-a-potties lock themselves? The only thing that made me feel better was that she cut in line. I know...a grandma cutting?....c'mon.

3. The race was on a trail up a mountain. We climbed 1000 feet in the squishy mud with rocks everywhere. The elevation definitely got to us too, and we had to slow down a bit. I had to check my competitive side at the door and just enjoy the ride. Christine makes it easier to do that.

4. At mile 4, an old high school friend was volunteering. When we saw him, we realized that we were lagging behind a bit. In an attempt to make excuses for ourselves, I pointed to Christine and said, "SHE JUST HAD A BABY!" And she yelled, "SHE IS BACK HERE BECAUSE OF ME!" Why must we feel we have to make excuses? Two words....HIGH SCHOOL.

5. An hour later than expected, we crossed that Finish Line. One of the best things for me is seeing my family cheering and welcoming me, although they had been waiting there awhile!Christine and I had a great time though with no pressure, beautiful scenery, and great conversation.

6. Now this is where I am bewildered. Out of 135 people (in all age groups, mind you) Christine and I ended up 133 and 134! WHAT!? Oh, it gets better. Willy said that a couple of old ladies (65+ years) came in before us...and they were walking! Oh, it gets better. Christine's husband, Brian, said that he saw a handicapped person cross...(here comes the climax) AND A DWARF! I didn't even see a dang dwarf. Those little legs must have been cruising! I've run many races...I can't say I've EVER been beaten by a dwarf. That's just wrong...it's WRONG!

So, yes, my competitive side along with some pride has been tarnished. However, on the bright side, it was a great way to run a race...with a wonderful friend, beautiful scenery and a dwarf.

Beloved School

Back to school again! Taylor and Carter were SO EXCITED! Is it because I couldn't keep them sufficiently entertained this summer? Did they grow tired of being my maid? Or, is it because they just plain love school and are yearning to grow? Whatever it was, I am happy they enjoy school so much. Tate is not so excited to see them go. He loved having them around, and hopefully he won't be too bored. Is he too young to scrub my baseboards? How about toilets?

Taylor is starting 3rd Grade. She was completely ready to go (with her room cleaned and bed made) 1 hour before we had to leave. She proudly calls herself a "School Nerd."

Carter is going into 2nd Grade. I really wanted him to wear one of his new outfits, but he insisted on his "Hoopsville" shirt. I'll save that battle for School Picture Day.

Mostly today I just feel grateful and extremely blessed to be the mother of these 3 amazing souls. I hope they know how much I enjoyed them this summer, and how much I truly love being their mom. As the saying goes, "It seems like just yesterday..."

Sumthin in Mah Teef?

I know that this kind of thing has happened to everyone at least once in their lives, right? It happened to me on Monday at lunch with some old friends. The thing that gets my grill is that I'm one of those people that is SO careful about this kind of catastrophe. When I used to work and go out to lunch everyday with co-workers or even clients, my friend Melissa and I would always do a "TC" check on each other. She started it. It took me a while to figure out what "TC" stood for. FYI, it stands for "Teeth Check", not "Take Care", not "Traffic Control", not "Tom Cruise."

Well, Monday I went to lunch in Scottsdale with some old high school friends, Shannon and Jean. (Had a great time girls...loved seeing you!) Although I am a confident, mature adult now, and it has been 14 years since we graduated, I still found myself a little hyper for lunch. Perhaps I even reverted back to a few high school behaviors when I asked Willy what I should wear THE NIGHT BEFORE and put on 3 different outfits the day of. I even felt a little giddy before I left...kind of in a BFF mode, ya know? I hadn't seen these gals in a while, and who can blame me for wanting to look my best? These are our Senior pictures...we still look the same. Don't shake your head. Yes, we do look the same.

Alright. So we ordered salad as an appetizer. Ate it. It was goooooood! Then, we began eating our entrees. We are having the normal catch-up conversation, then we delve into some more serious topics. I offer up my story (which was a good one) when Jean interrupts me and says, "Wait! Before you go any further, you have a little something in your teeth! I think it's salad." Shannon nods her head, "Yeah, I was going to say something, but I wanted to just see if it would go away on its own."

What??? Not me! Salad was like 20 minutes ago!

Then, I started my interrogating. "WHY? Why me?" "How long have you known about this?" "Why didn't you say anything when it happened?" "Were you going to let me go through the whole lunch like this?" "What about the universal sign language of pretending to pick something out of your own teeth to let my subconscious know that I have something in mine?"

I then proceeded to suck water up through my straw, spraying my own teeth, if you will, just like the dentist onto the affected area. Didn't work. I then had to squeeze my straw together to scrape that bugger out. It was a stubborn piece of lettuce.

This whole thing got me thinking about awkward situations like this, so I'm posing a question. If you have something in your teeth, or a cliff hanger, or a zit that needs a poppin', or dried snot on the side of your cheek, or lip stick on your teeth, or your breast milk is leaking through your nursing pad, etc..., do you want the person you are with to tell you, or do you want them to pretend they don't see it and carry on? In addition, would YOU tell someone, or would you not want to embarrass them? What do y'all think?