Category Archives: Oversharing

Maybe I’m just too subtle.

“We” sent this out with our annual new address announcement. I think only 1/4 of the people who responded got its subtle humor. Sometimes, I worry about me and my sense of humor.

You know, we never send out holiday greetings, but I just realized that we’re pretty faithful at sending out the “Hey, we just moved” greetings. So, I think I should probably stop feeling guilty about that now.

This was my first attempt. Mr. French nixed it. (Probably for aesthetic reasons.)

Anyway. Now you can see why I was trying to get a picture of Ethan with the dog. I had to wait until Molly was trying to take a nap.



Filed under Moving is my hobby, Oversharing, The Dog, Why does no one get my jokes?

I should have just given in.

(This all happened in one day, during “moving week”)

F: Can I watch a movie, Mom?

Me: No, because we have to do school.

F: Just a wittle bit of one?

Me: No.

F: What about a Dipper? (read: Kipper)

Me: Felicity, I said no. Not right now.

a minute passes…

F: Mom, can I watch a movie?

Me: No.

F: How ’bout “Felicity”?

Me: Not. Right. Now.

F: Puh-lllleaaaaaassssse. How ’bout Madewine?

Me: How about nothing?

F: How about someping sort? Like, Madewine is sort.

Me: Madeline is not short.

F: Is Pinocchio sort?


F: Mom. Can I watch a movie?

Me: No.

F: But it hurts.

Me: What hurts?

F: My legs.

F: Can I watch a movie?

Me: Felicity, I already answered that question.

F: But, I haven’t watched a movie today.

Me: I know.

F: Can I watch a movie cause I got hurt?

Me: How would you like to push the baby around in his stroller? Or do the dishes?

F: No fair Mom. I said, can I watch a movie?

F: Can I have one of these?

Me: Um, no. Those are for birthdays.

F: But I like it.

Me: I know, but it’s a candle.

F: I like candles!

Me: Felicity! Did you cut your hair?!

F: Mmmm.

Me: Why did you cut your hair?!

F: Because it had knots in it?

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Filed under Girls are not boys, Oversharing, This is going to be really funny one day

A la ‘Branch’ Detour

So. The promised post about our little detour from Dallas.

But I might have to tell a few random little stories to get to my point. I apologize if you showed up hoping to see pictures of the dog.

She’s actually not featured much on the blog. Sorry.

Anyway. Whenever you think of Waco, what’s the first thing that comes to mind? For me, it’s the infamous Seige of the Branch Davidian compound and subsequent fire that killed most of them.

The last time we were in Waco is kind of a funny story. We flew back to the US from France through Chicago, except in Chicago our flight to San Antonio got canceled and the line to get to the ticket agents was quite long. When we finally got there, our only option to get even remotely close to SA was to go to Dallas. The ticket agent, seeing our hesitation said, “If it were me, I’d go anywhere but stay in Chicago. You don’t want to get stuck here.” Well, O.k.! Dallas it is.

We got to Dallas sometime in the early morning to a mostly closed down airport, except for all the people stuck there with us. There were no other flights out and there was also a huge line to get rental cars. You’ll never guess, but there were also no hotels. This is, of course, after flying all the day before from France. I sat with the kids, sleeping on the floor, while Mr. French checked out all the possibilities for getting back to SA.

Long story, slightly shorter, he found a military guy who had to report for duty the next day that had gotten a minivan (because he called the rental agency the minute he’d landed, unlike us.) But he was willing to drive us down to SA if we paid our share of the cost. No problemo. Thank you thank you thank you! (I still can’t thank him enough.)

So, we finally all piled into the van with a guy we’d just met, after flying in from France after being out of the country for 10 months. We made it about 1/2 an hour into the chitchat before we just couldn’t keep our eyes open. And I tried, because I kind of felt bad about the situation.

The next thing I remember, I woke up to hear Mr. French asking where we were and the guy driving the van says, “Waco.”

To which Mr. French says, “Waco? Like The Waco?”


And then I fell asleep again.

(In case it’s not obvious, we made it to San Antonio safe and sound. The guy dropped us off at a Denny’s and he, I’m assuming, was able to report for duty on time.)

So, a couple of weeks ago, as we were starting our drive home, looking at the map, Mr. French says, “Oh, we’re going through Waco. I wonder how out-of-the-way it is to go to that compound? or what’s left of it.”

My phone couldn’t locate it but Mr. French’s did, so we followed it and sure enough, there it was.

Actually, at first we passed right by it, but I saw the sign that said, “Branch” out of the corner of my eye, so we turned around. Mr. French parked outside the fence and walked in to ask these two guys working on a fence. He was gone for at least 20 minutes. We’d found the right place alright and the two men were part of the church that currently resides on the property. (The surviving remnant.) And one guy proceeded to talk Mr. French’s ear off about their beliefs. At the end, he offered us a chance to “come and build the kingdom with them”, to which Mr. French replied, “Oh, we’re just passing through. We’re from Ohio.” (one benefit to moving a lot is that it’s never a lie to say that you “just moved”.)

Anyway, after that, we drove in to see the memorials and some of the ruins. There were supposed to be maps at the church building, but they were apparently out so we couldn’t really see where anything had once been. There are several new buildings. There is one place that we couldn’t really tell what it was or had been, but looking at this picture online now, the cement “pool” like thing in the back is still there. Nothing else from that picture appears to be standing. The other interesting thing is that the building was well off the road (which is a dirt road, off the highway). It’s definitely out of the way.

There are several small memorials. Closer to the church there is one for the ATF men that were killed.

There is one for the victims of the Oklahoma City Bombing as well.

Closer to the road, there is a larger one with a plaque for every person that died, including name and age.

It really just leaves you with a sense of tragedy. It was all so senseless. I think there was wrong on both sides. And it’s sad that people had to die.

I still remember, sitting on the corner of my parents bed, watching as it was happening on T.V.. I remember seeing a tank moving up to the compound, as it was called, and just feeling horrified that people were probably dying. At the time, we didn’t know all that was going on, and part of me, I remember, hoped that maybe they’d somehow escaped or something.

It made for an interesting car ride home, at least.

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Filed under French toast, I confess, Moving is my hobby, Mr. French, Oversharing, Pictures worth a thousand words, Playing the Tourist, The Dog, This is going to be really funny one day

Penzey’s best customer

I think of myself as a minimalist.

But I actually hoard a few select things.

One, boxes, which you saw earlier. I don’t know why but it pains me to get rid of a good box. I tend to just keep them all until we move and then I get rid of them.

This is my logic: They’re so useful! But they take up so much space! And in the end you don’t need them! Keep them all!

The second thing I hoard might be surprising.

It takes a whole suitcase to move them all.

That’s not the worst of it.

The bags on top are also filled with herbs and spices.

You know, in case I run out.

Do you hoard anything? Tell me I’m not the only one.


Filed under Moving is my hobby, Oversharing

Cautiously Optimistic

I started potty-training on Monday. I had a well-thought out plan and was extremely prepared.

On Sunday night, I realized I only had 3 diapers in the entire house and I wasn’t planning to go shopping until Thursday. So, I held my nose and jumped with both feet.

And, here we are on Saturday and I am cautiously calling it a good start. If I was the kind of person that got easily excited about things I might call it a fantastic start, but Mr. French knows I never use that word unless I’m trying to be funny.

I am struck by a few things:

If it works out, she’ll be potty trained a whole year before any of her brothers were at the same age. Not that I didn’t try.

I, who eschews all clutter and unnecessary baby equipment, will buy all manner of pink plastic potty paraphernalia in the hopes of maintaining my child’s motivation. Even when I know it will only be used for a short amount of time and go the way of most other cheap plastic things. (But you should have seen her face when she saw that pink potty.)

The first three days (five if you’re dealing with boys) are the hardest. It can actually be worse the second or third day before it gets better.

In fact, if I were to be so bold as to give a suggestion (it’s only worth what you paid for it), I would say if the first day is super-hard (10 pairs of wet underwear, anyone?) your kid might not be ready. I think with the proper praise and motivation the first day is the easiest. The next day, they’re usually over it, with nothing to show for it.

If there was one thing I wish I’d known when I tried this years ago. You can never, ever praise them enough. I don’t know if that’s what I was doing wrong, but I saw it’s effects immediately with Felicity.

In a lot of ways, it was a bad time to potty-train because we have a lot of stuff happening in the next month. But that’s the other thing I’ve learned over the years. It’s never a good time to move, get pregnant, or potty-train. So, why not do all three at once?


Filed under Apparently I have no shame, Girls are not boys, Oversharing, That's just gross

If you have to ask the internet

The other day someone found my blog by searching with these words “Shall I have a fifth baby”

I can see why one would ask for advice, since people question your judgment if you have more than three kids.

So, I’d just like to take a moment to say,

“Yes, you definitely should.”

I mean, if you have to ask the internet, then you know you want one.

Plus, it’s obviously what all the cool people do.

So, I wasn’t going to post about this because it seems a little overblown, but I like stats so I’ll share. WordPress sent me a summary of “my year in blogging”. This must be a new thing because I didn’t get it last year. I found the whole thing amusing. Especially the part about how I blogged 50 times (laughable) and how my “popular” posts are from years prior. Also, notice the top words that refer people.

Here it is:

The stats helper monkeys at mulled over how this blog did in 2010, and here’s a high level summary of its overall blog health:

Healthy blog!

The Blog-Health-o-Meterâ„¢ reads Wow.

Crunchy numbers

Featured image

A Boeing 747-400 passenger jet can hold 416 passengers. This blog was viewed about 6,300 times in 2010. That’s about 15 full 747s.

In 2010, there were 50 new posts, growing the total archive of this blog to 244 posts. There were 141 pictures uploaded, taking up a total of 206mb. That’s about 3 pictures per week.

The busiest day of the year was February 26th with 192 views. The most popular post that day was A strange new world.

Where did they come from?

The top referring sites in 2010 were,,,, and

Some visitors came searching, mostly for is sugar flammable, how to dress like a french man, sugar flammable, how to dress like a frenchman, and how to dress french man.

Attractions in 2010

These are the posts and pages that got the most views in 2010.


A strange new world February 2010


Wow, who knew sugar was so flammable? August 2009


How to dress like a frenchman January 2009
1 comment


I need to have some fun! Name my baby. Or pretend you are. January 2008


Who? September 2007

In summary: I need to blog more about dressing frenchmen and flaming sugarballs and I should be good.


Filed under Apparently I have no shame, Oversharing, This is going to be really funny one day

I try so hard

I try not to be superstitious.

But pregnancy pulls me down very easily.

For example, after I told three different people that I was “down to one pill a day” (compared to every 4 hours), I had a bad day yesterday, the likes of which I hadn’t seen in weeks.

And, I only had one pill left.

I’d already texted my Doctor the day before, to call in a refill. (I’ve never had a relationship like that with a doctor either. He also used an iPad to process my bill. And his receptionist was sitting right there.) But no response.

Take the last pill and hope he comes through or what?

So I called, got a real person, and she got it done.

I took the pill.

‘Course he called it into the wrong pharmacy, but who’s being picky?

Today? It’s 6 o’clock and I’ve been fine* all day.

And I have a bottle full of pills at my disposal.

See what I mean?

*Editors note: “Fine, pregnant” is totally different than “fine, not pregnant”. Just to clarify.

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Filed under In Sickness and Health, Oversharing, She's having a baby