When Life Hands You Lemons, Make Sure to Buy a Yacht and Have Some Babies.


Nobody looks this happy when they just had twins and an appendectomy in two rolls.


“Mom? Do you want to get married, like RIGHT away, or later?”

“Mom? How many babies should I have?”

“Mom? Would you get a baby OR a promotion? Which?”

I don’t know kid. I’ve asked these questions so many times…

Also: “Mom, would you get a sports car, or twins?”

I’ve asked that one too. Along with:

“When the babies come, do we need to make more money?”

“I have a baby girl! Should I have more?”

And this zinger:

“I just got a mansion and a wife, so do I buy a yacht or a sports car too?”


My kids are obsessed with Life. The game, not the actual breathing thing. They play it for HOURS on our living room floor, and I do my walking-over-them Mom thing with my usual laundry baskets and cleaning supplies. I have even vacuumed around their game and usually the vacuum makes them all nervous and they bark at it, but no one twitched.

Ok, wait. No barking, but you know what I mean. They hate our vacuum. It’s like the one in Mr. Mom only it hasn’t eaten anybody’s Wubbee. Yet.

I guess my point here is that this game is going to save us all before school starts. Even though it generates some really weirdo questions from a seven-year-old.

“Mom, do I get a wife NOW or try sky-diving? Which one is better?”

It’s moments like these that the Snark just quivers and practically begs to be released – free to run at full tilt at my children and take them out at the knees. But no, I quelled the beast, and answered,

“Marriage is better. But only if you really love her. And I would wait until you are good and ready. So, you know, like, your late thirties. Early forties. And, make sure you find her at church and go to like fifty or sixty bible studies together first. Also, YOU CAN ONLY HOLD HANDS THAT’S IT UNTIL YOU’RE MARRIED OK?”

The ask-ee was just staring at me, blinking a lot, when I took a breath. I was fully prepared to go onto my discussion of the pros and cons of an arranged marriage with our friends’ kids, easy-peasy, when he asked,

“Um, didn’t daddy go sky-diving? Back in college? Like, 18 times?”

I took a breath. The arranged marriage discussion would have to wait.

“Yes, kid. Go ahead. Knock yourself out.”

Later, I was explaining all of this to the husband, because all we talk about are The Children.

“I don’t really think the game of Life is actually teaching our kids anything about life, you know, in reality.” I said. You see, I’m very into making sure our children are always playing Educational Games that help Prepare them for the Real World so they can become Positive Contributors to Society.

And then the husband snorted. He knew the previous paragraph was hooey. “Yea right. Like Uno is helping them become better at flip flopping. And so, politics.”

“Or Monopoly teaches them about weird real estate options. And jail.”

“Or Battleship trains them for the military. Or drowning.”

I eyed him. His snark was so weak in comparison to mine. But he was trying. It was kind of cute. Except for the last one. That’s depressing.

Bless his heart.




The kids go back to school in a week and three days. Not that I’m counting.

I am really good at counting though. Played a lot of Yahtzee as a kid.


This post was brought to you by:

Not enough caffeine, a ridiculous lack of focus, and a strong love for my children but Lord have mercy if you don’t hear from me again you’ll know they’ve gone feral.




When Reality Hits, Give It a Timeout. With #Netflix #Streamteam

Y’all. Life is hard.

I pretty much fully realized this little nugget of wisdom when I realized that giving birth meant discomfort.

Here is a visual of how life is hard: (Don’t WORRY. No birthing pictures here. I am not that crazy.)



Our family had a great weekend.

I know, my leader set you up to make you think that this was going to be another post of misery and woe, because there are toddlers in the house, but it was actually not so bad. And I do realize they’re not really toddlers that much anymore, even though I insist on calling them so. And, why was our weekend so awesome?

The Wonderful Husband Played The Game of LIFE With Them for Three Hours Straight, and I just sat and watched.*

The Game of LIFE (this is how the boys refer to it – it must be called, full on, with much fanfare, The Game of LIFE. Much like that one dude has to be called now The Artist Formerly Known as Prince. Or, how I refer to my twenties as The Time When I Could Eat Whatever I Wanted. The name matters, y’all.)

The Game of LIFE involves mortgages and buying things and basically putting yourself in crippling debt, and what five year old wouldn’t think this is a blast? They have no concept of reality, folks. Of course they don’t. Their job is to bludgeon US with reality.

The husband, sweet clueless blonde, decided to be a farmer for his profession. Thus, he lost his patience with LIFE around the time his crops were lost in a freak monsoon, and he was left with five dollars and a roller skate for transportation. But he bravely continued. It was his row to hoe. (SEE WHAT I DID THERE?. I HAD TO.)

The two boys fared better. Overheard:

“I wanna buy another house! I wanna buy ALL da houses!”

“Is that the luxury model of dat car? Cuza I have no luxury model. I need it.”

“Baby! I have der baby! I’m all married now and I get a baby! Bring on da babies!”


Screenshot 2015-04-27 10.29.33


It’s a great little game. It teaches fiscal responsibility, how to deal with depression, and that babies can only occur after you hit the jackpot of MARRIAGE!!!!! on the Life Pod. This gadget replaced the original spinner. And, this game has CREDIT CARDS. For reals. Life just got rather real-ish. Nuthin’ says grownup like huge plastic debt.

I must admit, the baby one really kind of threw me for a loop. They were so terrifying thrilled with the idea.

After three hours, two bowls of popcorn, and rapid aging on the husband’s part, we were done. Blonde had won. He had finished the game with same amount of money as our national debt, plus three children.

Red was quick to point out that ending the game of LIFE pretty much meant they were all in heaven. Wow. That killed the moment a bit (AGAIN! I know, right?).

And the husband collapsed on the couch next to me, exhausted from all the bills and mortgages and car payments and career struggles.

Momsie, the eternal band-aid fixer of the family, remedied the situation with this:

1. Ice cream

2. Netflix.

Boom. All better!

After the boys were in bed**, we watched this:

Screenshot 2015-04-27 09.57.44

This little show is a gem. Better Off Ted satires the workplace in a way that I haven’t really laughed at so well since, well, the husband had to become a sharecropper. The main character (aptly called, Ted) works at Veridian Dynamics, a research company that creates… I’m not sure. And I don’t think the workers there know either.

Each episode of BOT (my acronym. Like GOT, but, not) gives us a glimpse at life, work, career, and just how nutball all those things mixed together can be, with sizzling accuracy.

I don’t often laugh out LOUD when I watch television. I don’t know why. Perhaps it’s not demure, which I am, of course. Or it’s because there just isn’t much to laugh at anymore because, well, bad television,

But I LAUGH a lot with this show. It’s medicine for the soul, I tell you.

And if you don’t take your medicine… well then, you could lose your sense of humor when you end up on welfare, while playing a board game with your two millionaire children.

Watch the following. Why? Because it’s chock full of antibiotics, for your soul.

* Ok, I didn’t just sit and watch. I also: folded laundry, graded papers, and wrote this post. Moms don’t just sit and watch. It’s not in our contract.

** This show does have saucy bits, just so you know. The hubs and I accept the saucy bits. The Game of LIFE rather forced them upon us.

Daily 4:8


Go to www.jennyhallart.com to view her other lovely artwork!

We have been a little snowed in here.  Snow is just all over.  Just everywhere.  Twelve snowapalooza feet, I think.  Yesterday, a squirrel came up to the front door and knocked; he wanted a blanket.  Or a condo in Florida.

I would like a condo in Florida. Instead, I got two toddlers and snow pants that are too short.

I would like to propose that at times like these Momsie has full clearance to go into full on survival mode.  Start a beard.  Or, rather, stop shaving your legs.  Huddle in blankets a lot.  Gnaw on your food – don’t just eat it, gnaw on it.  Preferably while huddled.  Make food that is warm, brown, and comes out of a crock pot.

Get a lifetime supply of marshmallows.  The cocoa, and your mental state, will need them.

We do go outside, for about 10 minutes a day (windchill is a bit, erm, brisk) in which the toddlers mill about rather aimlessly trying fruitlessly to pick up anything with snow mittens that won’t bend or grip anything.  The tears come but they freeze in little snotty rivulets on their skin so I don’t have to wipe.  IT’S A BLAST.

So, I also propose to get a battle plan.  Otherwise, there might be…  some grumpiness after the thrill of the whiteness wears off.  I know this, because I just lost my ability to communicate and instead sputtered this mess to my sweet Red:  “WHYYYY MUST YOU SIT ON MY COUCH WITH A NAKED BUM?  Nobody puts a naked BUM on my couch!  Go upstairs!  No!  Don’t get dressed!  JUST GO!  YOU will GO upstairs NOW and THINK about WHAT YOU DID!  NO ‘BUTS’! DON’T YOU ‘BUT’ ME!”

That went well.

Here are some things we attempted to keep our sanity (and the couch) intact:

10.  Graham Crackers and Frosting Decorating Party!  (Messy, and a sugar crash will occur, but still fun.)


9.  Snow Day drawings with dark paper and chalk:


8.  LOTS OF COCOA (or, if you are Red, sweet steamed milk with nutmeg).  As I mentioned, “LOTSA MARSPELLOWS!”

IMG_0162Also:  snow ice cream.  Oh my goodness!  The trip outside was worth it for this stuff.


“With da sprinkles!!’

7.  Board Games.  We got them all out.  All of ’em.  Rotate often.


6.  Bake.  Attempt a lattice top pie.  Realize that the good old interwebs can teach you pretty much anything, including lattice top pies.  Drink hot tea out of your mom’s teapot.  Make sure and use sugar cubes and lemon and slurp away.


5.  IMG_01455.  Attempt sunshine for ten minutes a day.  When dressing your child with the boots and socks and pants and mittens and coats and hats and layers underneath, draw motivation from this:


“I can’t put my arms down!”

4. Invite the neighbor kids over.  All four of them.  Add that to your two.  That makes like a multitude.  Realize you will never ever run a day care.

No pictures were taken of this.  It was too frightening.

3.   Make those little leftover pie crust (see #6) scrap cinnamon pinwheels that YOU used to make with YOUR momma long ago.  Revel in nostalgia.  Realize also, these suckers are good.

2.  Organize your foyer.  Take a picture.  It will stay this way for about 2 more minutes.


1.  Realize, at some point, the wheels are going to come off the bus.  And that’s ok.  See this picture? My sweet boys are playing basketball with puff balls and a tin can.  It’s a lovely little moment.

About three minutes after this picture one of them tackled the other one.  Unadulterated (pun intended) toddler RAGE.IMG_0158

My dad always says, “Do the next right thing.”

The Momsie paraphrase:  “Keep plugging along.  You will play outside again, one day.”

Or, more simply:

”  Whatever you do, work at it with all your heart, as working for the Lord, not for human (or toddler) masters.” 

Colossians 3:23, New Momsie Version.


Leftover Pie Crust Pinwheels

Give each toddler a very carefully apportioned and TOTALLY EQUAL glob of dough.

Allow them to smush and roll out into a square-ish shape

Spread the dough now with softened butter.  A LOT of butter.

Sprinkle liberally with sugar and cinnamon.  Do not kid yourself.  This is messy.

Roll up and slice like tiny little cinnamon rolls of yummo. Place on greased baking sheet.  Top with a bit more sugar.  You know, because they might not be sweet enough.

Bake at 350 for about 10 minutes.  Check on them!!

Try to wait for them to cool a bit before snarfing them down. With cocoa.  “AND LOTSA DA MARSPELLOWS!!!”