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A Little Push

Posted by casey on August 19, 2013 in Caden, Everett, For Your Funny Bone, Snapshots

 

Given that it is Monday morning for all of us, and most of the teachers in this part of the country are heading back to their first full week of staff development to finalize all of their non-stop preparations for the coming year, I thought we all might need a little push.

And a little baby bottom.

A boost if you will.

Sometimes we all just need a little push to get going.

 

 

 

 
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Selfie-Discovery

Posted by casey on April 11, 2013 in Caden, For Your Funny Bone, Snapshots

Caden discovered joy in taking a “selfie” over Easter and it has become a favorite activity.  Partly because he gets to help hold the camera and push the button and partly because he gets to see us up close and personal in the end.

Silly Selfies Are Becoming a Regular Around Here, Could Get Dangerous.

 
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I Mean Everything

Posted by casey on September 10, 2012 in Everett, For Your Funny Bone, Uncategorized

Being that is is Monday morning after a delightful fall infused weekend I thought you might need some humor to wash away any post-weekend blues.

I have mentioned that our sweet Everett loved to put everything in his mouth and try

I’ll hide my face in embarassment for my ways.

to eat it…except food.  He has a fondness for paper products (napkins, tissues, toilet paper, mail, magazines, Caden’s artwork) but really doesn’t discriminate.  If he can find it he will eat it.  Just when you think you have vacuumed and cleaned everything up there it is, the tongue swirl indicating that he is chomping away.

Everett now knows that we are coming to dig it out so he will start grinning and try to hide it in his mouth as he begins the protest of getting it out.  It is awesome. Awesome.  Yesterday was no different.  Most of the day was spent digging, and scooping and scraping things out of his garbage disposal of a mouth.  There he was, puffing out his cheeks, moving his tongue around and happily chomping away AGAIN!  The all to familiar, “Everett, spit it out.  Everett NO!”, was heard as I picked him up and laid him back so I could pin him down to begin the hunt.

In went my fingers when I got a glimpse.  it looked like a bug.  I was already grossed out at the prospect of it being a bug when I pulled out, from my darling son’s mouth…a LIZARD!!!!!!!  A damn lizard!!!!!!!!!  Eeeeek.  Eck.  Gag.  Bleh.  Ahhhhhh!

Dear Lord, Please help my mama forgive me.

He seemed pretty pleased with himself as I was gagging and trying to look at him the same.  Once I got my wits about me I thought to myself, “Well shoot, he didn’t break out into hives.  Maybe lizard will be a suitable form of protein for him since beef, eggs, turkey and chicken aren’t.” :)

Bleck.
A Lizard.
In. His. Mouth.
Chewing Away.
Bleck.

When I said he puts everything in his mouth, I meant EVERYTHING!

Happy Monday! I’ll be chasing a now walking Everett (yes, I said walking) around trying to keep him from eating other helpless reptiles. Yucko!

 
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Summer Snow

Posted by casey on August 31, 2012 in Everett, For Your Funny Bone

Surely you have seen that video of the mom who came out of the bathroom to discover her one and three year old had flour bombed her home with a bag of flour while she was…indisposed. Whether it actually happened that way or not, my husband made it clear that he was fine with coming home to messes by kids…except for that one.

Well, we almost had a repeat in the Kazmann home.

(I just love his guilty face.)

Mind you, Everett is allergic to flour but he didn’t seem to mind when he managed to topple a bag over from a pantry shelf I didn’t know he could reach yet while I was cooking dinner. As I was picking up the bag and various flour piles he was scurrying back and forth as quick as he could in the residual flour snow.

Summer snowfall was enjoyed in the kitchen.

Yes, I snapped a picture before racing him to the tub because if I can help it there won’t ever be a flour call this close again.

What was Caden doing?  “Mama, mess! Mama, brother made a mess! MAMA, need to pick up! MAMA, clean mess!!!!” Yes my OCD neat freak son, what a mess.

 
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Generosity

Posted by casey on August 24, 2012 in Caden, Everett, For Your Funny Bone, Snapshots

Happy Friday!

I hope someone shows you some love and generosity this weekend.
Even if it is just sharing a fake hot dog.
Deliciously Adorable.

 
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The Moment

Posted by casey on July 16, 2012 in Caden, Family, For Your Funny Bone, Snapshots

Sometimes I find that looking through my lens I actually focus on so much more of what is going on.  All of the details of the fun and chaos at hand.

Then, through the lens, there is that moment when you realize that your son who is having so much fun and is working so hard to thrown the soccer ball to his Uncle is without a doubt instead going to peg his baby cousin with it because he can’t throw a ball that big, that far.

Don’t worry. Uncle Jordan had a stealth like save leavign Kaylie to remain clueless and Caden to think he made the throw of a year.

At least someone was there so supervise while I was busy behind the lens. :)

 
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Victory

Posted by casey on June 28, 2012 in For Your Funny Bone, Life as I Know It

This morning at the gym I had finished my cardio and legs and was about to begin my ab routine.  Wouldn’t you know that two high school aged boys (yes, I said boys) looking all the role of the jock strolled up to the adjoining area to do the same.  You could almost see it in their eyes. “What is this chick doing here. We will show her.”

I kicked their ass.  Yes, I am bragging.  No I cannot contain it.  I totally and completely kicked them and their too tight t-shirt wearing abdominal ass all while nonchalantly listening to my iPod because I in fact had not noticed them until they made it clear they were going to show me how it was done. I almost turned and told them I was a decade older than them and had a two kids but hearing them grunt while trying to keep up was enough.  That and their faces when they saw me pick Everett up from the Kids Club.  Priceless. :)

Yes I took joy in it. I probably shouldn’t be taking joy in it or sharing that but when you are working out after two kids any motivation helps.  You see, when you are a stay at home mom of two young ones you take your victories where you can get them.  This my friends, was a killer victory.

Victory! Victory!

 
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To Continue

Posted by casey on May 24, 2012 in Escaping Home, For Your Funny Bone, Writing Nook

A month ago I was in Santa Barbara for the wedding of my long time best friend Brianne.  I few weeks ago I began telling you the tale of my travels getting there and I left you hanging with a “To Be Continued” that has yet to be continued.

Honestly?  I needed to recover after sharing with you that I was put in my place on the airplane by a whimsical teenager who more or less called me an old woman which instead of making me laugh because that is “so not true-like duh” it made me wince because it is “so true – like duh”.

After her innocent comment I decided maybe I should right her off and stick to silent book reading anyway.  When the poor man sat in the middle seat between us that became easier and I felt bad for not continuing to ask her questions but she was equally wrapped up in her book as well so all was well.  Yes I felt bad.  I also felt bad that I didn’t offer the man who took the middle seat my aisle seat.

Why?  I don’t know I have this weird thing ingrained in me that men aren’t supposed to have to sit in the middle kind of like how men are supposed to open doors etc.  It’s something weird that my brain automatically thinks “well that isn’t right”.  If I really dive into it, its probably because I can’t ever remember my Dad sitting in the middle when we traveled (why would he, that’s what kids are for) so it seems like it isn’t allowed or something. Who knows. Regardless I felt bad and I was this close to giving him my seat, but he was a small, young guy who fit well and I had to remind myself that this was my chance to be alone and comfy and read and do what I wanted and so no, I would not be overly nice today.  Rude, I know.

Thank the heavens I kept my seat.  Thank the oceans…and the deserts…and the prairies and everything magical in this world that I kept my seat because about 30 minutes into the flight as we were descending into our first of three “pick more people up but don’t get off the plans connections” it hit.

Motion sickness.

If you’ve known me since I was a kid, you know that you have never seen me ride a rollercoaster, play the spin your head on a bat game, go on a swing for a lengthy ride, or sit on a boat that isn’t cruising.  I sit in the front in the car or where I can see out the front window and I keep dramamine in my purse….except this time.

As the focus in my eyes began to shift and distort and the floaty feeling my head expanded to my stomach I spent the next hour with my head buried into my tray table.  Talk about sanitary.  Yes, I looked like a turtle.  Eyes squeezed closed, shoulders hunched over enough to cram my head on top on my arms on that nasty plastic “table” so that I could try and utilize my best “get over being motion sickness trick” and tune out the world to pass out.  The only problem is I can’t sleep on planes.

And then we descended to pick up more passengers.
And then we took off again.
And then we descended through turbulence to pick up more passengers.
And then we took off again.

With every bump and every taxi I swear to you I looked at that oh so tiny white “in case you are that idiot that has to throw up next to the poor people sitting by you bag” as if it was my only lifeline.  As soon as I would lock eyes with it I would quickly flick my eyes in another direction as if to not tempt myself.

Motion sickness.

If I actually thought I could make myself sick and feel better I would have gone to the restroom.  But my body/mind has this severe aversion to sorry, I have to say it, puking so I knew I could take out that bag and all it would do is send the passengers next to me in a “please don’t puke on me” panic because I wouldn’t be doing anything.

This also turned me into that bitchy seat-mate who wouldn’t so much as half smile at her fellow seat-mates as if I was too busy to have common courtesy or care that the chick next to me brought her yapping Yorkie on so she could try and talk about the funeral she just went to the whole time.  All while I am trying to kindly say, “I get it, I used to fly with my dog but for the love of God stop talking to me or I might lose my breakfast all over you and the mutt.”

Seven hours of flying…sick.
And then we landed.
And then I was supposed to get up and walk off the plane as if all was great.

Motion Sickness

(This post is pictureless due to me trying not to vomit by entire flight. Sorry.  I am also apologizing for “keeping you on the edge of your seat” but not in a good way because you are terrified that at any moment I am going to write about the details of vomiting.  Suspense is suspense right?)

In case you missed the first part of this tale, let me guide you…

The Travel Began, I was Out of Practice and then Put in My Place

 
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Crackin’ Up

Posted by casey on May 11, 2012 in Caden, For Your Funny Bone, Snapshots

 Notice Anything Unusual?

 
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Me?

Posted by casey on May 1, 2012 in Escaping Home, For Your Funny Bone, Uncategorized, Writing Nook

Here we are, me sharing the start of my travel, my shortcomings as a regular adult and you…finally figuring out I’m an idiot. Fun times.

“I realized” should be the name of this whole story because in my head that is what each sentence wants to start with. I’ll switch it up for you.

I noticed (got to love synonyms) upon getting through my security mishaps to the terminal that airport news shops are to me what the checkout lane at the grocery is to a small child.  They overwhelm me with the sudden need to grab everything because well…what if I need just one more magazine. Surely the laptop full of pictures to sort through, iPad stocked with e-books, the actual paperback (defeats the purpose of the i-pad e-book convenience when you also carry around real books) and oh yes, the other three magazines I have won’t be enough to keep me busy and entertained.  Maybe just a couple more.Ooo and a crossword book because I haven’t in my entire life finished a crossword, but today is the day. What if I get hungry and don’t want the crackers and granola bar I brought?  Trail mix would be perfect for that. What if I am suddenly parched or choke on my trail mix and the attendants are otherwise occupied? I’ll just have to get a water bottle…and a Gatorade. There went sixty bucks at “Hudson News” in the airport when my bags were already well stocked from Target prior to leaving the house. (Packing our carry-ons was a real treat for us as kids and it has carried over to adulthood – big time.)

Whenever I get to the gate when I am flying I probably check my ticket ten times.  Once for the time.  Once to double check the gate.  Once to double check the boarding number.  Once to make sure Southwest hasn’t spontaneously decided to start assigning seats.  Once to look for any layovers – again.  Once for the time…I guess that is twice for the time.  Once to make sure it is still in my purse.  Once to use it as a bookmark.  Once to check the gate – damn…twice to check the gate.

Neurotic?
Again, I blame my Dad.
It is an innate, eh, learned fear of missing my flight.
(or being that person sprinting through the airport and hurdling small children)

I never have missed a flight you know.
(I swear I am a much less obnoxious traveler when I am not alone. I think.)

Arriving at the gate with my personal library and snack shop in tow I took this time to check my ticket (see above OCD confession) and realized – crap, I mean…figured out that my flight was going to be seven hours! SEVEN HOURS! Did I make a mistake and book a flight to Europe? (commence checking destination on ticket).  At that moment, I realized – son of a, I mean…became aware that I have some flight anxiety.

I have never just loved flying.  Being locked on a metal tube, tens of thousands of feet in the air, with re-circulating germ filled air and people who have no manners or haven’t showered without the option of leaving is just not my idea of fun.  But, I have never been a nervous flyer.  Turbulence?  Sure, gets my heart going but in general I was okay.  Apparently when you realize – think and remember, that you haven’t flown alone for three years and you are going to be completely out of contact for seven hours and you can’t get out and you are so out of practice traveling and talking your hands start to sweat a little.

For some reason I forgot the joy of being ALONE for seven hours to read or sit and process thoughts when I looked around to see I was going to be joined by a couple hundred of my nearest and dearest stranger friends all up in my space.

Being so OCD…prompt, I just so happened to be in the first boarding group which gave me a little bit of option as to which stranger friend I might like to accompany me on this flight. I see a young-ish girl quietly reading in the window seat near the front of the plane – Bingo!  She politely says hello and goes back to her book. Bingo!  Then she turns and compliments my blouse and points out how her bag has a similar pattern. Bingo??? I see that she is reading “The Hunger Games” which I am finally about to start so I comment on this to her.  This high-school aged girl was excited that I was reading it because she was excited to be reading it for the and I quote “like 17th time”.  I tell her I have been meaning to but my boys have kept me from being able to focus on a book at home so I had saved it for the trip. Next quote –  “Oh my God, I love children more than like anything in the world.” Bingo??? At this point I am thinking that I may have gotten myself into a situation where I have to chat the whole time and maybe even chat about my boys which is either going to make me cry or drive me insane.  And then it happened.

“So basically, what I am saying, is that I like want to be just like you…
WHEN I GROW UP.”

I actually choked a little on my own saliva, regained my Southern composure and managed to squeeze out a smile while croaking “thanks”. My head however was doing this…
“When you grow up?  When you grow up!!! How old are you? How old do you think I am?  Maybe I should ask her that.  No, no you can’t ask her that because that is exactly what someone old would do.  Am I old?  OH MY GOODNESS, when she grows up! This did not just happen.  Aren’t you grown?  You look pretty grown to me.  Wait, if I think she looks more or less grown than how old does she really think I am??!!  Oh my.  Maybe I should jokingly tell her that saying that to people makes them feel really old.  No, no again – that again would be something an old person would say. I want to scream, I need to tell someone. Surely someone else thinks this is crazy right? To me?  This happened to me? I am even dressed cute and not in mom sweats. When she grows up!”

Then it happened.
I thought to myself, if she is in highschool like I think she probably is at the beginning of and I am coming up on my ten year reunion next May, then holy moly I am 10-12 years older than her. Yup, she is right. when she grows up.

I realized…I am old.

I have been married almost 5 years, have two kids, a house, two dogs, stay at home to be covered in slime and look forward to being able to scrub my bathroom. Old.
The start of my getaway weekend, before I had even left the gate in Dallas kicked off with a very polite teenager putting me in my place to stew in it for the next 7 hours.

When she grows up.

This trip is going so well already.
To Be Continued

 

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