Find Yo’ Funny | Cookie Cawthon | product of a tenacious grace

August

Fried, Scattered, Smothered, & Covered

Okay, we’re not talking hash browns here. We’re talking about my mental faculties. Done. Summer has taken its toll, and at its completion I find that my brain is mush. As it turns out, you really can spend too much time with your children. I don’t have one intelligent thing to say, so this will be another momma post. Though being at it 24/7 can be exhausting, draining, numbing, and dumbing, it can also be way more hysterical than life outside of motherhood ever thought about being.

Carson had a friend over to play yesterday, and the three girls were playing doctor in the kitchen as I cleaned quietly. I soon heard that Campbell and Kit (Carson’s favorite doll) have been diagnosed with diarrhea. I kinda smiled real big because I was pretty sure that Carson didn’t know what diarrhea was. When her friend ran back into the bedroom to collect more supplies, I asked Carson if she knew what it was. She did not. I enlightened her on the subject and her smile grew into this humongous grin; she thought it was too funny that she and her friend had inflicted diarrhea upon her little sister.

Then the lil’ medical experts thought Campbell had cancer. Which totally weirded me out, and I nixed that one pronto! There are some things, in my book, that you just don’t play… I informed the doctors that she could have a broken bone, and that was about the extent of what I could allow (I know they were just playing but that other stuff just messes with my heart and mind too much).

Well, the whole broken arm bit worked out well for Campbell. The girls wanted me to put the indoor playhouse together, and in order for me to do that they had to clean all of the stuff out of it. Campbell was excused from helping because of her “broken” arm. She was workin’ it, and I can assure you that is the only time her older sister has ever released her from cleaning.

So, school starts Monday. It needs to for a few reasons; we need some structure and we all need a break from each other and the girls are excited about a new year. But it has been a great summer, so we’ll have to take the good with the bad as we forge on into 3K and first grade. Bear with me for a few days as we transition into school mode and all. Hopefully there will be a revival among my lethargic brain cells and I’ll be back with new cerebral power in a few…

August

Proud Momma

Okay, summer is drawing to a close, and I think my girls and I have finally reached the point where we are ready for a return to structure – as boring and tedious as that sounds. But I wanted to show off my sweeties in a post dedicated to them and how much they bless my life. Two anecdotes:

1) Campbell (3 yrs) – A couple of days ago the three of us poured candle wax into cold water to watch it harden quickly. After it had completely hardened, I allowed both girls to play with the wax. Well, much to my dismay, they crumbled it into 7000 tiny pieces of wax (they were making dog food, they explained). I then informed them that all of the wax had to be cleaned up and thrown away. They handled that news okay and began to dispose of the wax. Only thing is, they weren’t disposing of it properly. They were, at Carson’s leading, dropping the wax down the air conditioner vent. Had my six year-old lost her noodle? She knew, without a doubt, that was unacceptable and I punished her. Right or wrong, I only punished her because she led the bandwagon of disobedience. This absolutely floored Campbell. She asked me if I was going to give her a spanking, and I said I was not. She sat over in her little pink chair in her little playhouse in the kitchen and just pondered that. And then, after mulling over this event a few moments, she busted out with one of the cutest things I think she has ever said. “Momma, you wanna know what (kinda drawn out)? I think you are berry smart for not givin’ me any spankin’s.”

2) Carson (6 yrs) – Carson is elated to be returning to school; she loves it! We had registration at school yesterday, and she wanted to get there as soon as it began to find out who her teacher will be. The night before she set out her clothes, shoes, new bookbag (which she insisted on carrying) and even put toothpaste on her toothbrush for the morning. She wanted to get ready in a flash to get to that school (I am so proud of my lil’ student). When preparing her bookbag, she announced that she wanted to give $1 to her principal to use on buying stuff for school. She taped a note on the dollar that read I love my school and stuck it in a pocket on her bag. So, as we were making our way to the registration room, her principal came tearing down the hall carrying a flower arrangement. Carson stopped her, explained what she wanted to do, and gave her the money. I thought that was too cool for school!

August

As if…

As if you needed more reason to think that I am a nutcase. I am going to share with you my own personal conviction about Diet Pepsi. I honestly can’t believe I haven’t divulged this tidbit before now. People who know me well already know what lunacy I am about to broadcast; they are shaking their heads in embarrassment for me but they love me anyway.

The 20 oz DP you purchase at a convenience store tastes far better than DP in any other form. I do not like Diet Pepsi in a can. I do not like Diet Pepsi from a concession stand. Not from a fountain, not on a mountain. Not from a cup, not with a pup. Not on ice, not with three blind mice. I do not like Diet Pepsi from a box; I do not like Diet Pepsi with a fox. Not here or there or anywhere. Oh, I’m sorry. I was having a Dr. Seuss moment, but you get the idea.

I go to my special Citgo Markette every day to buy 3-4 Diet Pepsi’s (I have seriously developed quite the rapport with my cashier friends). It is my vice, I admit (and before you go thinkin’ I’m too nuts, some of you are just as psycho about your $4.50 cup of joe, so there…). But in supreme seriousness, the gas station 20 oz has the best bang for your buck (plus 42 cents) – greatest concentration of fizz and burn.

Of course the conspiracy theorist in me believes that Pepsi has intentionally altered the taste to encourage me, the unwitting consumer, to buy the most expensive version of their product. They’ve won, I confess. But at least I’m on to ’em.

And for the record, I have had one friend confide that she too concurs with my theory (thanks, Neeter!). Think I’ve just stumbled upon Carson’s first science project – DP taste test, Hmmm…

July

Extremist

I know. That’s a scary word, but I am one. I told you that in my last post, but here is further proof…

I am learning to use the air conditioner in my car. Seriously. Either the air conditioner is set on the coldest temperature and the most powerful air blowing setting or it is off. You see where I’m going with this?

I turn the air on highest and coldest and then I get cold (and I abhor being cold) so I turn it off. My husband, like any normal human being, continually adjusts the temperature and the air flow to achieve a comfortable climate. I go from sweltering to comfortable to frigid to comfortable to sweltering all over again. This cycle can be repeated innumerable times in hopes of enjoying the fleeting perfect temperature every so often.

That’s just dumb!

So – after Chris pointed out (in a most gentle and loving way) how asinine that was – I became intrigued by the whole concept of manually regulating the temperature in my car. I had honestly not ever considered such manipulation of the air controls. I am now reticently wading in to the waters of climate control on the hunt for the ever elusive perfect temperature, not stuffy – not arctic.

For an extremist like me, that’s progress, my friends…

June

Rock Star Love

Campbell, our three year-old, is not an eater. On some days I am really concerned about how little she has eaten, and now she has suspiciously developed a distaste for her vitamin too. So…, Chris and I have put some teeth into our “eat at mealtime” policy; her practice had become mealtime antics at the table and then play the “I’m hungry card” at naptime, bedtime, or any other opportune time. We have begun to withhold certain privileges (like books in the bed at naptime or bedtime) if she doesn’t eat. I know making rules about eating is a tricky thing, and we do not require she eat all of her food. We just expect her to take the opportunity to eat when a meal is provided. That’s probably our main battleground with her right now, so when she does eat well (and we have definitely seen some improvement) we pour on the praise. “Campbell is a rock star!” I must have gushed recently. Now, I’m sure she has no context for what a rock star is, but she is totally down with being one. Yesterday I asked her to give me a squeeze, and she said…

“I’m gone give you some rockstar love,”

and she clasped her arms around my neck and squeezed ever so sweetly.

I LOVE IT!!!!! That is one of the coolest things I have heard in a long time!

One other Campbell funny before I’m done. Will you indulge me? This morning Carson and I were involved in a high brow geography discussion on the way to school. We were discussing continents, time zones, and hemispheres. Where is Ghana? Which continent do we live on? Which hemisphere do we live in? Are the people in Ghana going to bed now since we are just waking up on this side of the Earth, etc… Right about the time I mentioned that we live in North America in the Northern Hemisphere, Campbell – quite annoyed and frustrated with the fact that she could not participate in our conversation- belted out, “We live in FLORENCE!”

She even takes a similar tactic when we pick Carson up from school. I love hearing about Carson’s day as soon as she gets in the car. I give her a kiss as she crawls into the backseat, turn off the music, and start firing away questions about what was for snack? who did you play with at recess? was anyone absent? did anyone get a color change? did you eat your lunch? how was art? etc…, and as Carson settles in and begins to relate the events of the day Campbell very often launches into the loudest, most obnoxious version of the ABC’s that you have ever heard.

Our spirited lil’ rock star…