He belongs in a cage... at the zoo.

Hail is single-handedly taking Terrible Two's to a whole new level. He's only 28 months old, I have to remind myself daily. I can out-smart him. I can win. "I WILL win!" I say to him, sometimes, as we battle out temper-tantrums over extra cookies or staying in the bed for naptime. Sad thing is, I don't always win. He's just so.... so.... unbridled. Bert often says he's like a young Squanto, who was plucked straight from history and plopped into our house in the 21st century. The child is a nut. The following will help to prove my case:

One morning while changing out the liner in the kids' bathroom, I noticed the bag seemed a little wet. It didn't surprise me, because my kids are always playing in the sink, then making a huge watery mess, covering the entire bathroom. Later that same day, Hail was doing his "business" on the toilet when Lightning decided he had to go "tee-tee" and refused to go to the other bathroom. I listened in as a small feud began.

Lightning: MOVE! I gotta go NOW!

Hail: Go to Momma's baf-room!

Lightning: Nooooooo! I wanna go to dis baf-room!

Hail: Well, I'm goin' poo-poo. Just use dat trash can. Dat's what I do sometimes.

Me, interrupting: What did I just hear you say?

Hail, proud as punch with a HUGE grin on his face: Yep... I does dat... Sometimes... I do, but dat's okay Momma, you not get mad at me.

I don't even know if the monkeys at the zoo would claim him.

Birthdays, Babies, Best Friends and Bad Dreams-- The Trilogy

In keeping with my slacker theme from the post below, I'm just now getting around to our (not-so) recent birthdays....

Catch up on parts one and two of this trilogy by clicking here and here. (That would be the blue words, again Mom. Those are the ones you click. Okay, we'll all wait for you. Got it? Great.)


Like Her Highness and Lightning, these two handsome fellas now share a birthday week. We love to stretch out a birthday in our house, but this year for poor Thunder, the birthday week wasn't quite as glam as others. I'm going to cut myself some slack though, I did just have a baby. An organized Mom would have planned the party before a new baby arrived. I completely forgot about the party until the week of. Mrs. Manners would cry, but I actually just e-mailed a ton of our friends the WEDNESDAY before the party which was held that SATURDAY and begged "I know it's super short notice, but if you're going to be in town.... I'm on my knees.... Forgive my horrible etiquette....."

Etiquette or not, Thunder turned five just the same and had a blast.


All Thunder wanted was a baseball party. It was one of the coldest days of the year.
Surprisingly, we had a huge turn out.

I don't have any good pictures because my usual fancy photographer (aka: BFF and surrogate aunt, Dr. Pepper) was stuck sitting in the car with my newborn the entire time, due to the frigid temps.

Other "birf-days" as Hail would say, have come and gone too.

This Apple Dumpling turned two in December. Then, a few short weeks later, she became a BIG SISTER!

My sister, Kell-Bell, is now the proud Mommy to three beautiful babies, ages two and under. I'm so proud of her and her hubby, Luke.
And here's a sweet shot of them-- My nephew is on the left and niece on the right. Give me a spoon......

Now, for the Best Friends segment:

Her Highness is blessed to have one of those best friends that come only once in a lifetime.

These two are like Peanut Butter and Jelly. They've been best buds since they were three. We watched Bridal Wars and at the end Her Highness said, "We would never fight over our wedding date 'cause we're just gonna have a double wedding!" I won't be surprised if they do. They seem to never tire of each other. They have even discussed ways to become "real sisters." The plan now is for Thunder to marry Em. Not sure how they'll feel about it in a few years, but they talk about it all the time. Sweet girls. If they would just stay this sweet through the teenage years....

And in keeping with tradition, I will end this lengthy post with a dream....

But before I do, for the record, we're not obsessed with The Duggars. Not completely anyway. I do watch their show (with Bert, though he would probably never admit it). I think the reason they are buried so deep in our psyche is due to how many folks compare us to the Duggars. I mean, I can see why.... We've got five kids, they've got 19. We send our kids to public school, they homeschool. We believe in using birth control, they don't. Okay, I do realize I just set myself up big time to be made fun of there, but my point is, we're obviously NOT that much like the Duggars. I guess it's just a big family joke people like to make. Anyway, back to the dream.

Bert and I were both in the kitchen, he was holding Flash Flood and pouring a bowl of cereal as I packed Her Highness' lunch, when he said, "I had the strangest dream last night. I was back in high school, but I still had the kids. Only, you weren't there. I don't think I knew you. Anyway, we were at some type of convention or something, when I met one of the Duggar girls. And the entire dream I was chasing after her trying to convince her to go on a date with me. Weird, huh?"

Right as he was finishing up the details of his dream, Bert tried to hand Flash Flood to me, even though I clearly had my hands full, spreading peanut butter and ziplocking cheez-its. I glared at him then said, "Just stick him in the bouncy seat! I can't take him right now." To which Bert replied with a smirk, "My Duggar girlfriend never makes me deal with babies. She keeps everything under control." I laughed and asked him to give her a call. I could use a Duggar girl in my house. For sure.

Airing out my dirty laundry... literally.

As you can see from my post below, we have a lot of dirty laundry around here. Sometimes I stay on top of it, and will fold and put it all away the moment the dryer stops. Keepin' it real though... most of the time, I let it all pile up. Lately, I feel as though I have a pretty cute reason to ignore the never-ending piles of laundry and dishes.....

And, while I'm airing my dirty laundry, I thought I would go ahead and confess a few other things as well.

Hail has regressed since the birth of Flash Flood. Totally normal, I do realize. What's not normal is how he's regressed. Let me explain-- The child breastfed for 13 months and went straight to a sippy cup. REFUSED bottles his entire life, until Flash Flood started using them. It's my own fault. We didn't have any clean sippy cups one morning, (because I had waited to load the dishwasher until we had about four loads worth in the sink) and Hail was crying for a drink so I poured his apple juice into one of Flash Flood's bottles, thinking he would throw it back at me. Hail took a few sips, grinned and said, "I wike it! I do!" Ever since he has demanded a bottle. And to be quite honest, I don't even care. At least he's still potty-trained, and since that's the area most kids tend to regress once a new baby arrives, I'm thrilled he's chosen "ba-bas" over pooping in his undies.

Lightning went to church barefoot... two Sundays in a row. Neither Bert nor I noticed until we were in the parking lot. The first time I had an extra pair of Spiderman flip-flops floating around the nasty van. The second time, however, those flip-flops were gone so he actually walked around the entire time totally barefoot. This wouldn't be such a big deal if it weren't JANUARY and only 40 degrees outside. Mom of the year-- I'm already preparing my acceptance speech.

Thunder is officially a preschool drop-out. It became too much work, emotionally and physically, to send him everyday. Perhaps he's still adjusting to our latest addition, but for the last few weeks, he's cried every morning and begged not to go. When it came time to go each day, Thunder would hide, quite well I might add, and then cling to whatever furniture was near, all while screaming "Please, PUH-LEASE let me stay home with YOU! I DON'T WANNA GOOOO!" When I spoke with his teacher, she said he had seemed a little sad each day when he arrived, but usually warmed up within an hour or so. It's just pre-school. Plus, we're paying money for him to be miserable... It was a no-brainer for me. He's now home full-time, which is fine because he's a great big brother and helps to keep the other members of our Storm occupied.

Her Highness has typical first grade homework each night. One night it might be a math worksheet, while the next it could be to just study for a spelling test. Not hard, nor very much usually. A few nights back, I opened her homework folder and saw a book that was a little thicker than what she usually brings home to read. I was tired, and so was she. I just zipped her backpack right up and pretended I didn't see it. Total slacker, I know. Her Highness reads well for a first grader, so I didn't see a need to sit through another "Jess, you can jump! Jump, Jess, jump!"

Along with piles of laundry and dishes, I'm also WAY behind on writing thank-you notes. To be quite honest, I think thank-you notes are dumb. I appreciate everything everyone has given us, and I say thank-you the moment I open the gift. So, why do I have to turn around and write it out again? I used to write a note out the moment I got home with the gift, so I could get it over with and not break all rules of etiquette. Now, I can't even remember who gave us what when Flash Flood was born, or who all I've already sent thank-yous to. So, if you gave us a gift and haven't received the proper thank-you note, I apologize. We do appreciate everything. I've just turned into a complete and total slacker in areas such as these.

Maybe I'll wait until Flash Flood can write his own thank-yous:

Dear (fill in the blank), Thank-you for all those diapers way back when. Had it not been for kind folks such as you, my bottom would have stayed soggy much longer, because my lazy mother would probably have forgotten to buy more. Also, thank-you for the Target gift card. I know you intended for it to go towards baby supplies, however, my Mom tends to live by the rule "If Mama ain't happy, ain't nobody happy" so she actually bought a cute new top for herself. But, we do appreciate all your kindness and generosity. By the way, I'm enjoying my freshman year of college tremendously. Love, Flash Flood

If you're wondering why my bathrooms stay nasty....

"It's what you wear from ear to ear. And not from head to toe...."

....That matters....

...So Senators, so Janitors, so long for a while...

...Remember you're never fully dressed...

...Though you may wear the best....

...You're never fully dressed without a SMILE!

Don't hate me 'cause my blog is beautiful....

Remember those commercials? Fun.



Anyway, as you can see my blog is super-duper cute now! And it's all thanks to a super-duper sweet gal, Brooke, from PaigeandBrooke.blogspot.com. Seriously, check these girls out. They are sisters and best friends, who I met while in school at Auburn University. They are some of the sweetest and most creative girls I know! Their blog is filled with delicious recipes, scrapbooking info, cute projects, and a link to their etsy shop where you can see more of their talents.

Thanks sooooo much, Brooke. I no longer have to suffer with blog envy!

PS. The posts below are for my sidebar... ignore it... or read them if you're really bored.

About Us

Hi, I'm Holly Hudson, proud wife to Bert and Momma to our five nutty children.


We have one daughter, Her Highness, who truly believes her lot in life is to be a Princess. She's a Diva through and through. And since the good Lord only gave us one girl, I guess she might as well be as pink and girlie as she can. GOD definitely knows what you need. I say all the time, my four boys wear me out physically, but emotionally, Her Highness brings me to my knees every day! She's our little mommy, who loves to boss her brothers and keep them in line.


Our four sons are known as The Storm. Thunder, Lightning, Hail and Flash Flood were all born in less than five years. These boys can wreck a house like a tornado. All I need after a rainy day with the four of them stuck indoors is a tv camera and a reporter questioning me while I answer in a super southern drawl, "Well, yawl, it sounded like a train was a comin'. Then, next thinged that happened was that well, it done got trashed! Our house is just a MESS, except thank goodness my Dale collection stayed safe." The interview is only completed by my daily uniform... old sweats, one of Bert's tattered t-shirts and greasy hair that hasn't been washed for several days, thrown up into a pony tail. Fun times. The Storm works well together for the most part, which makes them capable of creating a "Perfect Storm" from time to time. At the end of those days I can be found hiding under our bed, clutching a bottle of wine in one hand, and a pack of Pepperidge Farm Mint Milanos in the other.


Bert, The Meteorologist, is a wonderful husband and father. Most days I accuse him of being their leader. Sometimes I tell folks that he's my oldest child, cause well, he basically is. Bert has a great sense of humor and suffers with ADHD. Combine those two and you just never know what he's got in store for the rest of us. By day he's a Certified Public Accountant. By night, he's a bucking bull/pitcher/quarterback/tag-team wrestler/homework helper/book reader/bath giver/tea party attendee/wii expert who loves to be with his kids. I couldn't have picked a better father for this wild bunch. He's the best.


As for The Storm Chaser... I spend most of my time doing just that, chasing after our Storm and cleaning up the wreckage. I try and escape with Her Highness as much as possible to enjoy some quality girl time. Our GNO's usually consist of a pedicure then a quick trip to Target, cause we're glam like that. I am a true southern gal, who loves being girlie, but likes to get her hands dirty too. I'm a stay-at-home mom, who's completely undomesticated. I consider fish sticks and ketchup a balanced meal, though I am a fish stick snob... which is a contradiction in terms, I do realize. I love the LORD with all my heart. I am so thankful for HIS grace, as I struggle daily to be the person HE would have me to be.


This blog has been such a fun way for me to keep track of all those zany things our kids say and do. It's our family scrap book, cause I'm not artsy-crafty enough to create and keep up with a real one. Everyone says, "Write it down or you'll forget it." Well, that statement is so true, cause even after writing it down, I have to re-read old posts from time to time because I've already forgotten a bunch of it!


I've loved getting to know my bloggy friends. You all have been a huge support system and helped me in more ways than you will ever know. Motherhood can be lonely, at times, but all of you have helped me to fill that gap when I needed it. Thanks so much!

Best of The Storm Stories

Here are some of our favorites...
Let me know if any of your favorites are missing.
I sincerely love hearing from you.
BertandHolly@yahoo.com
Love, Big Momma

"Well, you know what they say: If you don't have anything nice to say about anybody, come sit by me!"

"Careful the tale you tell-- That is the spell... Children Will Listen."

Brothers of The Storm Union Meeting

Button Eggs

Whimsical Beds, A Game Played Just Like Musical Chairs


My Life's Lessons from 2008

Will You Be My Friend? Check Yes, No or Maybe

The Voices in my Head

The Voices in my Head Revisited

Pray for Me

Children Should Have Mute Buttons

The Big Reveal

Biology 101- Princess Style

Dear Mr. Hudson

New Rules Regarding Toy Purchases

An Awkward Walk Down Memory Lane

Thunder, The Preacher Man

Contact Us

So if you ever feel like dropping us a line... should you want to ask "Are these stories true?" So we can reply, "Yeah, I know. For real though, as embarrassing as it sounds, it is REAL. All of it. Unfortunately."


Or if you would like to send your words of encouragement, please do.


Either way, we would LOVE to hear from you!


bertandholly@yahoo.com

My future daughters-in-law are going to LOVE me for this...

.... future son-in-law, probably not so much.

The Storm and Her Highness had a playdate recently with a dear friend and her kiddos to give me some much needed time off. Turns out, our "crud" was/is actually RSV. And yes, Flash Flood caught it last and is still battling it out. Poor, poor baby. He's doing well with it though, so I can't complain.

Back to the playdate...
While at my friend's house, the kids played with these artsy beads that you can create shapes with then iron them together to make the shapes stick. I have no idea what they are called, but my bigger kids love them. On the way home Thunder's artwork fell apart-- big surprise, I know. Thunder comes home pouting and says, "Look, Momma! Mine broke!" Her Highness interrupts, "It's okay, Momma. It can be fixed if we have one of those dryer things like Emily."
Thunder looks to me and says, "Do we?! Do we have a dryer thing like Emily??"

The "dryer thing" they are referring to would be an IRON.
And I'm not trying to brag, but I did have to dust it off before using it to fix Thunder's masterpiece.

Maybe my future (orphan) daughters-in-law will forgive me for the other areas in which I have failed them. I'm trying girls!

Putting gloves on a three year old is like putting pantyhose on an octopus.

I feel like we've been in a cave. A cave with five children, six years old and under, all of whom running fevers, but never at the same time, cause that would be too convenient. A cave that sounds much like the tuberculosis ward of a southern California hospital, as hacking coughs echo through the halls, with a nebulizer humming non-stop.

Yes, the Hudson's have the crud. All of us. The crud that knows no end. Low-grade fevers, snotty noses, hacking coughs-- you know that kind of cough where your child vomits due to choking on all the mucus that's working its way out? Oh, is that TMI? Yeah, how 'bout I had to wash our comforter three times over the past week due to kids coughing and puking in our bed. NICE. Fortunately, Bert, Her Highness and Thunder are all over it. I think.


Most of our Christmas break was spent in pj's. Which was nice at first. But, then our internet went down, along with my sanity. Granted, not wasting time on Facebook did help me to load my dishwasher before 2pm each day, (with the dishes from the night before) but I felt so out of touch. It's fixed now and I just logged on to find I'm way behind on all my blog stalking as well. I've got so many Christmas mornings to catch up on!

And this cold weather is for the birds... I live in the south for a reason. Which Bert just reminded me the reason is I was born here. He's such a smart butt.

My hat's off to all of our northern friends. How you manage children in frigid temps blows my mind. By the time I get all mine dressed and out the door, somebody is crying, usually me, and somebody already wants back inside. Pure madness. We're supposed to really warm up tomorrow though, all the way to 32! Woo-hoo.

Oh, you didn't realize you were coming to a pity party? Well, you're dressed just fine, so why not stay a bit longer?

As I said, I have new respect for all moms north of the Bible Belt. Seriously, how do you do it?? Keeping up with eight pairs of gloves (or "glubs" as my children call them) and then trying to put them on those eight little hands.... I think getting pantyhose on an octopus might be easier. And I've tried using mittens instead, but then they can't play as well, so they cry some more, and I do too. "It took me half an hour to get you all dressed, so you're staying outside more than six minutes!! And you are keeping those gloves on! Yes you are too!" I scream through the locked back door. Mother of the Year, I know I'm a total shoe-in.


Our house is a disaster: Layers of clothes, stripped off along with toboggans, coats and mis-matched socks. Abandoned forts made of blankets and sheets, broken crayons and notes that read, "Boys ONLY, NO guwls that are loud!" Only, they don't read that at all, cause it's all scribble scrabble, but Thunder and Lightning scream it to Her Highness if she tries to enter:
"Can't you read our sign!!!" Her Highness proudly fires back at them, "Umm, no, cause it doesn't say anything, it's just a bunch of squiggly lines!" The noisy banter continues...
"Well, it says NO GUWLS THAT ARE LOUD!" Her Highness snickers then says to me, making sure the boys can hear, "Momma, I think they mean no girls ALLOWED." "That's what WE SAID!" On and on it goes....

All out brawls over new toys, which movie to watch next, and who's the oldest have left their marks on arms, legs and cheeks (both sets). Hail's newest aggravation tactic is to announce, "I'm da ode-est! I'm da ode-est!" Which leaves all three older kids fussing with him about the true birthing order in our house. "Momma! Tell him he's NOT the oldest!" The child is two years old and already playing mind games. Normally when fights break out, I send the kids outside. But, for the last week I've had to determine which way to lose my sanity... Do I keep them in and listen to their crap, while they wrestle and knock more junk into our nasty floor, or do I take half an hour to bundle them up, only to have peace for three minutes? Hmmmm. That's a tough one.

Hopefully our bout with the crud mixed with cabin fever will all be over soon, and life will return to normal. Or, normal as the Hudson's know it. If not, I may take up drinking.