"Sing praises to His name; HE forgets not His own."

We have been so blessed, and have so much to be thankful for...

-Our five (almost six) silly turkeys;
-Surviving ten years of marriage with the Father of those turkeys, who is also a loving and playful Dad;
-Having a close relationship with both my parents and all my siblings, who I'm very fortunate to still have here, even if we all live far apart;
-A best friend who loves me and my nutty children, despite my grumpiness lately;
-A group of girlfriends who always know how to make me laugh and keep things in perspective;
-My sweet, precious Granny, who has been a wonderful example to everyone who is fortunate enough to know her;
-A safe school system, where the principals love all the students and are truly passionate about education;
-Freedom to live for God and worship openly, without the worry of persecution;
-Good health, a roof over our heads, plenty of food and clothing;
-And of course, all of YOU;

... Just to name a few.

I hope this Thanksgiving finds you all well, happy and healthy.

Happy Turkey Day!!
Love, Big Momma

Because lately blogging has become a pain in my butt... Literally.

In the last few months, I haven't blogged as much as I would like. Life, busy schedules, and exhaustion have all gotten in the way. That, and my tailbone hurts too bad to sit down for very long. Which means no hard desk chair for me. Which means I have to blog from my phone. Which means thumb typing with my swollen, chubby thumbs. Which means thumb cramps. Which means... Okay, I'll stop.

For real though, my butt hurts. I have to stretch like a cat periodically, to loosen up the ligaments. Or is it to tighten them?? I can't remember exactly what the doc said about why it hurts so bad. It just does. My sciatic (sp?) nerve is giving me trouble too. Ahh, the joys of pregnancy. And I hate when people do nothing but whine while pregnant, which is another reason I've avoided blogging lately.

I've tried to jot down all the funny moments and sweet memories, hoping to get them all posted. But I kept losing the little scraps of paper I was writing on, and the ones I have found, I can't remember what the abbreviations are for, or who said what. For example:

"Store-- L and T fighting-- Fist hungry for justice."

Underneath that note would be half a grocery list: "eggs, butter, chocolate chips, tp, PB, Tums, razors" and then another note:

"H hugging F for doing good job."

I suffer severly with Mom-nesia. Blogging has been the only way for me to preserve our family's memories. And lately, since I haven't been doing it regularly, I'm afraid I've lost some good ones.

Sigh.

Such is life.

I'll dig my big girl panties out of the drawer soon and quit fussing so much. (They're the only ones that fit right now anyway.)
Until then, I'll be comatose on the couch or stretching like a kitty. Good times.

Sending you sticky hugs and sloppy kisses!
~Big Momma

Trick or treat, smell my feet...

Is it really Halloween already?? This fall has flown by.

We're still here. I know all seven of you have missed me. I've just been stricken with pregnancy induced narcolepsy, so anytime I sit down for more than 12 seconds, I pass out.

My kids are already high on life, with the anticipation of refined sugars that will fill their pails later this evening. I am sending warm thoughts filled with peace, serenity and extra energy to all the teachers we know and love. I don't know how y'all do it. This morning alone, I've had to tell my monkeys to CALM DOWN 84,000 times, at least. I've instituted a "NO sugar for the day" rule, because of what lies ahead in our day.

Hail, who completely understands this rule, tried to trick me into a treat already...

Hail: Can I hab an Oreo for bweakfast?
Me: NO. You know the rule today! NO junk all day. Besides, what kinda Momma would I be if I let you eat Oreos for breakfast all the time?? How about something healthy... like a poptart??
Hail: Ugggh. But Momma!! Fine den. Can I just hab the white stuffs from da middle?? That's not junk. It's not eben the cookie.

Sigh.

Instead of carving pumpkins this year, we opted to paint miniature ones. Don't judge. Do you have any idea how long it takes ME to scrape pumpkin goo out of FIVE pumpkins?? The kids always start out gung-ho and excited, but once they are reminded of what all carving a pumpkin entails, they bail. So, this year we painted. And they actually loved doing it. They even painted one for the Bitty Princess. It's funny, but I don't realize just how large a group we have until I see something laid out before me, like six lil' punkins all in a row.

We sure are blessed.

Wishing you all a happy, fun and safe Halloween! May you find your day filled with many more treats than tricks!
Love,
Big Momma and the silliest Punkins from the patch

Changes in latitude, changes in attitude...

We've been MIA for a little bit, but I gotta say, we're NOT missing any of our usual actions.
We've had a great time, however, we may very well need a vacation from our vacation when it's all said and done. As usual, The Storm has lived up to their reputation, and made our trip an eventful one.
In the words of Jimmy Buffet, "If we weren't all crazy, we would go insane."

The Elptit in the Room

This is from Thunder's (first grade) spelling test last week. I wonder if doing homework together as a group is the problem.

Nah. Surely not.

A Boy and His Dog

Flash Flood and our chocolate lab, Belle, have a special relationship. She tends to all of our children like Nana from Peter Pan, but she especially loves Flash Flood. Belle is such a sweet and patient dog.

"Here ya go, doggie. Here yer beaw. Want it?? Want yer beaw??"

"Mmmmm-Waaaah! Oh, wee. I wub you, doggie! I wub you!"

Sweet girl. We can't imagine life without her.

Deep thoughts from Hail Hudson

"Hey Momma, do cheetahs only live in da jungle??... So dey don't live near us?? Not even in the woods?.. Do cheetahs eat peoples?? But if a cheetah saw a people, would hims try to eat dat person?.. Can people ever run faster den a cheetah? I bet Daddy can run faster. I bet Daddy can get his gun and shoot dat cheetah.. Can a BB gun kill cheetahs?? Can a big gun kill dem??.. Can a cheetah run faster den a bullet??.. What are you eating, Momma? Can I hab some? Would cheetahs eat dat kinda soup??...."

The above conversation took place in less than a minute and a half. And he's still going, I just quit listening.

Hail's been wearing that one batting glove for nearly three weeks straight. He sleeps in it. He plays in it. He only takes it off to bathe.

The kid's a nut.

Check baby, check baby 1-2-3-4

Testing, testing.. Is this thing on? Oh, hot mic.. Hot mic...

You've got your HANDS FULL....

I'll admit, when strangers pause momentarily to gawk at our crew, then comment, "You've got your hands full!" I sometimes get annoyed. I mean, come on, do I look as though I need that reminder??

But, when I take a step back, and look at things from their angle, I can see why they feel the need to validate what I'm going through...

Because the truth is, I DO have my hands full...

But, not nearly as full as my HEART.

Biology 102-- Storm Style

We are elated that Hudson Half-Dozen will be the baby sister this wild group needs and longs for, to teach gentleness and hopefully bring the calm after our Storm. Her Highness tries her best to do these things, but she's more of a second Momma to The Storm, so most of what she tries to teach them goes in one ear and out the other. Or, in typical male form, is heard simply as nagging.

Just as Her Highness did with Flash Flood, the bigger boys have had many questions and concerns about our Bitty Princess....

One afternoon, while trying to feel the Bitty Princess move, Lightning asked, "What do babies do while dey in deir Momma's bewwy? (belly)" So I explained, mostly swimming and eating and growing.... "And she's got ears now too, and can actually hear when you guys talk to her. She always moves a bunch when y'all are squealing, so try talking to her and I bet she'll hear you and wake up! Then maybe you can feel her move." Pulling my shirt up, Lightning bent his head down just over my belly button, as if it were a mic, and said in his husky little voice, with his adorable speech impediment where all his l's become w's...

"Hewwo unexpected chiwd."

Hail loves to play patty-cake with my butt. No really. He stands behind me all the time, while I'm loading the dishwasher/standing in a check-out line/standing anywhere and starts clapping his hands, then treating my butt as if it could clap back. Just like he's seen Her Highness and friends do their "Miss Sue from Alabama..." type songs a million times (using just their hands, not their tiny butts). I've grown accustom to it, and usually don't even notice he's doing it. Sad, I do realize. One night, as he was singing to my butt, "Patta-cake-patta-cake-bake-dat-man..." he stopped and asked, "Momma, is our baby sister gonna come outta yur BUTT??" "NO!" I quickly answered, hoping he'd go away. "Are you SURE?? 'Cause it wooks wike dat baby is movin' down into yur BUTT. Maybe she's gettin' weady to come out!"

I locked myself in the bathroom and cried.

Hail has also made sure to tell me, "It wooks wike you gots two bellies! One is in front, and it's weally big 'cause our baby is in there. One is in the back. It's weally yur BUTT, but it looks like a baby is back there too."

He's such a peach.

One night after playing with our sweet Chinese neighbors, who have one of the most adorable chunky 18 month olds you've ever laid eyes on, Hail stated, "Her's soooo cute! I hope our baby sister comes out Chi-a-neese."

Next to Her Highness, Thunder is probably the most excited about getting a baby sister. He's the one who will come lay by me on the couch the most, and talk to the Bitty Princess without being prompted. He'll naturally start rubbing my stomach, hoping to feel movement, without ever saying a word. Sometimes he feels the tiny kicks and will squeal, "I felt that! Did you??" Which always makes me laugh. Other times, he'll say, "Wow! She's getting really strong! I can feel her!" and I can't feel a thing, so I know he's just being sweetly optimistic.

One night, Lightning had pulled my shirt up over my stomach to talk into the "mic." Thunder sat next to him, and rubbed all over my skin, waiting to feel the Bitty Princess at soccer practice, as they like to say. He noticed my stretch marks. With a very concerned tone he said, "Ohhh, Momma. I see where she's scratching you, trying to get out!!" After I explained they were stretch marks, Lightning said, "Oh. Okay. So wike, you mean dose are marks where her's stretches. Wike 'Yaaaawwwwnnnn.'" he made a fake yawning sound and stretched his arms up over his head. Guess he's not too far off base.

It's hard to believe the Bitty Princess will be here in 14 weeks or less.

Hang tight, baby girl. You have no idea what you're being born into.

Ain't no party like a Hudson House party, 'cause a Hudson House party don't stop!

To most, our house seems completely full with just the seven of us. My backyard looks like a daycare center, on a normal day. Yesterday, Her Highness asked could she invite a friend over after church, which started a chain reaction. Since the weather was gorgeous, I caved and allowed all five children to pick a friend. Well, Flash Flood's friend was by default, (because she's the daughter of my best friend, and little sister to Hail's bestest bud) but I'm pretty sure he would have invited his favorite gal pal no matter what.


All 10 children were running around the backyard, enjoying the sunshine and fresh air, when Hail asked could our new neighbor's little girl come over and play too. "The more the merrier!" I laughed. A few moments later, the precious china doll of a seven year old came over and politely asked, "Mrs. Holly, could you please tell me when it's time for the birthday party to start? My parents said I can't stay for the party, but I could play until then." Confused, I asked, "Oh, are YOU going to a party later??" She clarified, "No, ma'am. The birthday party that's here. My parents thought since there were so many children in your yard, it must be a party!"


I laughed. And laughed. Then I explained it was just a regular playdate-- Hudson House Style.


About an hour later, my neighbor called me over to our fence and tried to hand me a beautifully wrapped birthday gift. Stifling my giggles, I explained there was no party. She laughed too, then said, "Well then, you're just crazy! My husband and I thought surely there must be a child's birthday party going on! We are still so new to the concept of having so many children. My Mother, who is still in China, called the other day to ask what the girls (they have two, ages seven and 18 months) would like in their package she was sending from China. She spoke to them and J said, 'Grandma, could you send me FOUR brothers?? My new neighbor has four brothers and we have SO MUCH FUN over there!' I tried to explain to her, we will not be having four brothers. We are happy with two daughters, and that is all. She tells me, 'Mommy! You will have MORE babies! I want BROTHERS!' So now we are feeling so much pressure from her, and she's only seven years old."


We do have a lot of fun. And I wouldn't trade any of it for the whole world.


Thank-you so much to all who left comments on my post below, and to those who sent me wonderful comments on Facebook, as well as texts and e-mails. I am so very blessed to have such a great support system. Without all of you, I would be lost. Thanks for the reminders of fun and sweet memories from those who knew me when I was young. I laughed through tears, as I read all of your notes. I truly appreciate your kind words of encouragement and prayers more than you'll ever know. It has helped to know I'm not alone in my feelings. I love y'all!

"Sometimes I wonder about my life...I wonder, do I do it because I like it, or because I haven't been brave?"

"...So much of what I see reminds me of something I read in a book, when shouldn't it be the other way around? I don't really want an answer. I just want to send this cosmic question out into the void. So, good night, dear void." ~Kathleen Kelly, You've Got Mail

I've been struggling with something recently. Okay, not just recently, but only recently have I been able to pinpoint and admit to myself that this "funk" I've been feeling for quite some time may not be just a funk. And I haven't wanted to admit it for a long time because it means there's something wrong with me. Or maybe not even that something is wrong, but more, that I would have to face the truth and deal with it. It's easier to tell myself, "You'll snap out of it eventually. It's the haze of young motherhood. You'll be your old self again someday." Only, the last part of that statement has begun to haunt me.


YOUR OLD SELF.



Who is that? I don't know her anymore, and part of me misses her. And part of me wonders if I ever really knew her.


Bert and I will be celebrating ten years of marriage this fall. In all, we have been a couple for twelve years. That's over a third of my life. Just before our one year anniversary, we learned I was pregnant with Her Highness. And while I wouldn't trade Bert or our babies for all the riches in the world, I find myself wondering who am I if I'm not Bert's wife and Her Highness and The Storm's momma?? Six kids in eight years, all of which I am eternally grateful for, but I'm only now starting to realize I haven't slowed down and caught my breath, nor slept through the night, in a very long time.


I used to laugh when people would comment on our lack of sleep and respond, "It's kinda like a slumber party, when you get super giddy around 1am. I live in a state of slumber party giddiness." Only now, I'm not giddy. I'm just TIRED. "Spend the Night Penalty!" my own mother would sing, after we returned from a slumber party as kids. Spend the Night Penalty meant you had to go to bed extra early (while the sun was still up) because she could tell you had seen the sunrise that morning, by the way you were crying at the drop of a hat. I could use a Spend the Night Penalty right about now.

If this post is coming across as bratty and selfish, then maybe I'm not making myself clear. It's not a situation where, "You asked for those kids so hush about it." I would be feeling this way no matter the number of children with which I had been blessed. Motherhood, with all the wonderful changes it brings, can also leave you feeling so... ALONE. Yet, I never even pee by myself. It's not that I'm not proud to be a wife and Mother. It's just, after all these years, I'm taking a step back to look at it all and ponder... Is it an Identity Crisis maybe?? Or maybe it's just that my body simply doesn't know what to do with all the extra estrogen flowing in my system. Either way, I'm afraid these insecurities within are causing problems in my marriage and my relationships with my children and even my closest friends.

It's not that I would necessarily change the way things have happened in my life. It's just a haunting thought that has been with me for quite a while... At the end of the day, who am I really? Am I reaching my full potential in life? Is this what God's plans for my life looks like? Because it certainly doesn't always match the dream I had for myself.

Just like Meg Ryan's character in You've Got Mail, I don't really want an answer. Besides, it's not one that can be found quickly. It's just a cosmic question I'd like to send out into the void. So, good night, dear void.

Lightning's take on Supernanny... and me.

I love to watch Supernanny. While I do learn helpful tips on discipline and parenting from her, I mostly watch it as a boost to my self-esteem as a mother. "At least I'm not that much of a push over/inconsistent with discipline/stupid." I tell myself every episode. Supernanny ranks right up there with Toddlers and Tiaras and Dance Moms, when it comes to giving me a pick-me-up the times I'm feeling down about my mothering.

Sometimes I even try using a British accent as I tell my naughty children to head straight to the thinking corner for misbehaving. Of course, after seeing my accent vlog, you all know my British accent is quite laughable.

Another good thing about Supernanny, is that when my children watch it with me, they are usually stunned and horrified for the children on the show who are slapping their own mother in the face or spitting on their siblings. I try to use the show as a teaching moment by asking The Storm, "Do you think that child should behave that way?... What should they do now?..." etc.

Recently, we were watching an episode that featured a particularly precocious and hyper family, who were not only slapping the mother in the face, but also CUSSING at her (these were PRESCHOOLERS by the way) when they were told to go to time out. My crew was appalled. I breathed a huge sigh of relief as The Storm began correcting the children on the screen and saying things like, "Oh, Momma! That's so ugly!" Lightning, who is our quietest child, spoke up, "Do dey not have a backyard??" So I answered, unsure why he would think of that, "Umm, probably. Why?" And his solution to their problem was, "Der momma needs to lock dem out in the backyard to get some energy out and for actin' ugly. Wike you do, Momma."

Kid's gotta point.

Oh, HAIL...

The kid ain't right... We've always known that.
Some of the things that come out of his mouth make me wish I could be inside his mind for a day. Maybe even just a couple of hours. More than that, and I believe I'd be haunted for life.

Recently, as I was doing the usual (pointless) pick-up routine, Hail passed by me in the living room, on his way to further destruction in a room I had just finished cleaning, I'm sure. As he strutted by, he slowed down only for a moment to say, without reservation, "That one's named Indie, and that one's Ana."

He pointed to each one of my boobs as he said this.

Then, he kept walking.

Maybe I breastfed him too long?? He's the only one who made it a whole year. Like I said, the kid ain't right.

It's my very first Vlog, y'all!

This morning the first message that popped up on facebook was from my cyber-sister, Jennifer, who basically said (and I'm paraphrasing here), "Since we chatted on the phone and I thought you sounded like a total hick, I want you to go RIGHT NOW to this blog and make a video. And don't give me that, 'I'm a mom with five kids so I don't have time for this' crap. DO IT."
And since I aim to please, I cruised on over to Jenna's Journey to see what in the world Jennifer was talking about.
The instructions were simple enough, even for a com-pooter degenerate like myself...
Answer the following questions:
-What is it called when you throw toilet paper on a house?
-What is the bug that when you touch it, it curls into a ball?
-What is the bubbly carbonated drink called?
-What do you call gym shoes?
-What do you say to address a group of people?
-What do you call the kind of spider that has an oval-shaped body and extremely long legs?
-What do you call the grandparents?
-What do you call the wheeled contraption in which you carry groceries at the supermarket?
-What do you call it when rain falls while the sun is shining?
-What is the thing you change the TV channels with?

Then, say the following words:
Aunt, route, wash, oil, theatre, iron, salmon, caramel, fire, water, sure, data, ruin, crayon, toilet, New Orleans, pecan, both, again, probably, spitting image, Alabama, lawyer, coupon, mayonnaise, syrup pajamas, caught
I had the Meteorologist film me, and ask the questions. I figured we'd go ahead and kill two birds with one stone, and let y'all hear him as well.

Afterwards, Hail and Lightning asked me to make a video of them. Since it kept them from fighting for all of five minutes, I was happy to oblige.

I still haven't watched any of the other videos that linked up over at Jenna's Journey, but I'm headed over to do so now. Link up and play along with me!

http://youtu.be/iwxh-oYpSLU

For some reason I can't get the video of Lightning and Hail to embed, surprise surprise, so here's the direct link:

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Vw4l0ERy3wc&feature=youtube_gdata_player

Oh, and PS. I had NO idea my face was already so stinkin' swollen! I'm only 22 weeks, so why do I look the full 40?? Sigh.

Rub a dub dub, in Heaven there'll be NO tubs!

Recently, my precious grand-mother was hospitalized then sent to rehab to recover from her third stroke. After explaining to the Storm that Great Granny could use some cheering up, we decided to make Get Well cards. While sitting at the kitchen table, coloring away, Lightning and Hail began asking questions...

Lightning: Is Gweat Gwanny gonna die?
Hail: And go to HEAVEN??
Me: Well, no the doctors don't think she is going to die right now. They think she will get all better and maybe even go home soon.
Lightning: I hope she doesn't die, 'cause den we won't have any mur gweat-gwannies.
Hail: Yeah, and that'll be sad.
Me: But you know, when ever the time comes and she does die, she doesn't want us to be sad. Just like Granny & Papa Scott, Memaw, and Great-Papa don't want us being sad for them because they're all in Heaven together, waiting for us to get there.
Lightning: Yeah, dat's wight. And in Heaven, in Heaven we will be ANGELS and have wings!
Hail: And, and, and we'll NEBER haff to take a baff!
Me: No baths, huh? That would be Heaven for you?
Hail: Yeah, 'cause in Heaven, there'll be NO TUBS!!
Me: Y'all are silly turkeys. What do you want me to help you write on these cards??
Hail: I want you to help me write my name, and that I love hers very much, and that I hope she don't die.
Me: Mmmmm-kay.
Hail: Hey Momma, what if Great-Granny finks I writed all dat stuffs by myself. What if she finks you didn't help me. Just don't tell hers that you helped, okay?
Lightning: No, Hail. It's not nice to twick old peoples. Dey can't help dat they're old.

The Writing on the Wall

Flash Flood loves to "colo." For the most part he's pretty good to stay at the table and color in the designated areas... "PAPA ONWEE!" I make him promise each time he begs for the markers.

Coloring keeps his little mind and hands busy for several minutes at a time. Not much else does. So, I'm usually pretty happy to pull out a coloring book and let him go to town scribbling while I cook dinner/load the dishwasher/start a load of laundry/pee alone. Yesterday I walked back into the kitchen to find this...

Flash Flood, oblivious I was back in the room, jumped out of his skin when I said his name.

Then he did what comes natural to all Storm members, and began to lie like the dickens as the interrogations started...

Me: Did you color on the wall??

Flash Flood: No.

Me: Well, who did??

Flash Flood: Hail.

Me: Are you sure YOU didn't color on that wall??

Flash Flood: Hail did.

Me: I think YOU colored on the wall.

Flash Flood: No.

Me: Are you supposed to color on walls?

Flash Flood: PAPA ONWEE.

Me: So why did you color on the wall??

Flash Flood: No. No. Hail.

Me: Hail did NOT color on the wall. YOU did.

Flash Flood: No.

What can I say?? He comes by it honestly-- Here's the PROOF...

There's this one: "You thought I was joking..."

Or this one: "He belongs in a cage... at the zoo."

Oh, and this one: "Pray for me."

Then again, you could pretty much read any old post to see the proof.

"..I got my lunch packed up, my boots tied tight, I hope I don't get in a fight. Ohh, back to school.."

~Billy Madison

~Her Highness and Thunder's first day of 3rd and 1st grades.

We've been back in school mode for two weeks. The Hudson Storm lost it's fearless leader between the hours of 7:30-2:30, and I lost my lil' Momma, to the world of structure and sharpened pencils, and walking quietly in straight lines, and square pizza with a side of corn. I'm always sad to see them go at the beginning of each school year. Another milestone to cross of the list. Another grade older, more homework, more spelling tests, and more letting go on my part, is never easy. But along with letting more go, I'm also finding more that I love about the adolescent years.

Her Highness is proving to be a responsible, and loving big sister. And it's even showing in her sensible fashion choices, which is one of the things I'm proudest of at the moment. She's a sweet friend to her classmates, and a big helper to her 3rd grade teacher, who might be her favorite teacher yet. Although, by September, she's said that about each and everyone of the teachers she's had so far. Thunder, who isn't a huge fan of school, is facing each day with a brave face, and going with the flow; even though he would clearly rather be home with his band of brothers, wreaking havoc on the house and our backyard, like Storm's do best. His first grade teacher seems to be a little more organized than I care to be when it comes to homework assignments, and parent initials, and putting worksheets in certain color-coordinated folders. But, then again, in her defense, it's not hard to be more organized than I prefer, since organizational skills are not something I obtain. Nor care to.

One thing the school year brings that I do enjoy is a little more structure to our daily routine. Yes, I love lazy summer mornings by the pool. But our laundry pile and stinky dishes rarely get tended to more than a couple of times a week. School schedules mean I'm up and at 'em a little after five a.m., so it sort of forces me to stay on top of things a tiny bit better. Unless, of course, Lindy calls and wants to meet up for breakfast, then play afterwards, which is absolutely the equivalent of a lazy day spent at the pool, in time spent and the fun that we have.

Lightning (read in his husky voice): Hey Momma, take my pich-a. I'm gonna make a mad face wike Her Highness and say, 'Top takin' so many dumb pich-as MOMMA!'

We were late the very first day. Might as well start the year out right, as to not be putting on airs, ya know? So, Her Highness became very frustrated with me for wanting to snap a few pictures. Lightning thought it was hilarious.

Keeping in theme with the start of a new school year, new school supplies and new schedules, we decided to give all the boys a new hair do. Flash Flood's still too little for a buzz cut from The Meteorologist, so he got to sit in a booster seat at the salon and get a "real" hair cut. I was shocked at how still he sat the entire time. He kept his head down, until the sweet girl cutting his hair would move it one way or another. The only time he spoke was after Her Highness said in her lil' Momma sing-songey voice, "Your being such a big boy! I'm so proud of YOU!" Flash Flood cut his eyes over at her and asked softly, "Whar my hands go?" Her Highness cackled, then sang back, "Under that big boy cape you've got on! So all your hair won't stick to your hands, sweet baby!"

~Flash Flood (20 months old), before and after. He was waaay past due for a good cut. But now he's lost his baby look, and I can't hardly stand it.

Thunder wasn't really supposed to wear that mohawk to school. Earlier in the summer, when I agreed to it, we had a deal that it was a SUMMER ONLY hair do, or rather a "don't." Somehow, he convinced me and Bert to leave it a few days. Actually, he only convinced Bert, who was hoping it would help earn him a little street cred, since he's a lover, not a fighter when it comes to public confrontations. I caved, rolling my eyes. This past weekend though, Barber Bert got a hold of all three big boys and shaved them clean. Some a little cleaner than others...

Bert botched Hail's cut pretty badly, so he had to buzz his entire head with a 1, to get it all even. Lightning began laughing hysterically when he saw it. And immediately calling him Bald-ou, after Hail's favorite cartoon character, Caillou (who for some unexplained reason is a whiny, bald 4-year old).

Lightning refused to heed Bert's warnings to hush, so he got a matching hair cut. But only after Bert gave him a reverse mohawk, and sent him on to take a bath with the rest of the Storm. Lightning waltzed into the bathroom, teased Hail again, which I thought meant he was aware of the hideous job Bert had just done. Hail began to cry again, so I said, "Buddy, look up! Look at Lightning!" Lightning then looked into the mirror, saw where Bert had just shaved straight down the middle, leaving the sides poking out everywhere, and burst into tears screaming, "DADDY! YOU'S DA MEANEST DADDY EV-A! DAT'S SO MEAN!!!" We all got a good laugh at his expense, which was only fair, since he had made his little brother, who is now truly a Caillou look alike, feel so bad. After convincing Lightning that his punishment was going to be a life of sporting such a horrible do, Bert shaved him down evenly. I, for one, love a shaved headed little boy. It's so much easier to deal with. I'm all about a low/no maintenance kinda hair do! Those who see me on a regular basis know how true that statement is.

I hope you all are enjoying August, and getting back in the swing of school/work/everyday life/whatever you're doing today. I've missed blogging recently, and I hope to make more time for it now that we are settling into a routine. Sending sticky hugs and sloppy kisses your way from The Hudson Storm!
Love, Big Momma