We Make This Look Good

I know.

 

Don't worry.

 

It's a natural gift.

 

Not everyone can be a stylist.

 

Not everyone knows that a head band can be used as a sweat band.

 

Or that it's okay to accessorize with a bold pattern even if you are already sporting a pink princess patterned pajama set.

 

It's okay.

 

Like I said, it's a natural gift.

 

It just takes that special eye to pair a glittery sequenced vest (compliments of Mommy's eighth grade jazz recital) with yet another, yet totally different, sequenced red, mesh skirt (compliments, yet again, of Mommy's jazz recital).

 

And, please, don't be skeerd to put red and black over a pink dress. It's all good. It's about self expression.

 

Like I said, a good fashion eye runs in the family.

 

I mean, look who I have to get all my style cues from, my big sister. Nothing says confidence like a Fancy Nancy 50's dress combined with a cow head band (yet again, compliments of Mommy's totally awesome dance recital, specifically done to Michael Jackon's introspective hit, Black or White). And then, the winning piece to tie it altogether, the swishy skirt turned hairy headpiece.

 

I aspire to create such an outfit one day.

 

Folks, you just can't pull something like this together unless you, in fact, are gifted at birth with this talent.

And based on Hannah's awesome moves, it looks like a keen fashion eye wasn't all we were blessed with. Watch out world. We're gonna be dropping some mad style and some rad moves on you soon.

 

Homeschooling isn't all about the books.

Mommy's Moment: Molly and Me

Molly.

 

My "lips" have been silent over the past couple of months regarding Molly.

 

At least on the blog.

 

Around the house, well, silent wouldn't quite describe my lips.

 

Not at all.

 

In fact, rage, yes rage might be an emotion I've felt surge through my body a few times when speaking with Molly.

 

It rears its ugly head when she soils the carpet for the fourth time in two hours after having been taken outside multiple times with treats in hand ready to reward positive potty behavior.

 

Or when I find myself witnessing what must have been similar to the Jaws attack, except Molly is Jaws and most often Grant is the poor victim. Until Molly came I never knew Grant's voice could reach such a high pitched squeal.

 

But it can.

 

 

That rage has crept up when I'm trying to get Kate's hair combed to leave for school and there's Molly fiercly pulling my arm away and threatening a new hole in my new sweater.

 

Or when I have accumulated a pile of the kid's clothes now decorated with holes.

 

Or when she shot out of the house like a canon ball in the rain as we were trying to leave. It was the day I actually fixed my hair and put on something other than sweats. Silly me. After finding her two doors down my new white shirt was now muddy thanks to her paws and my hair, well, wet again. I jokingly offered her to our non English speaking neighbor who caught her. Then I realized, he thought I was serious and said, "no, no thank you."

 

Maybe I was serious.

 

 

Yes, this cute dog, did that.

 

preparing for a Jaws attack 

 

Is unconditional love appliciable toward dogs?

 

If so, I've got to work on that.

 

Sometimes I sense our dog came out of the pages of Marley and Me, the only difference, our book will be called Molly and Me.

 

And while I struggle to find patience for our new beloved dog, it seems no one else in our family does.

 

The kids, well, they do adore her. I'll admit, I've put the bug in their ear that we could get rid of her if she's just "too much."

 

Apparently, she's not.

 

And John, well, he's more patient that I.

 

I know, I signed up for this, willingly and whole heartedly. I have no one to blame but myself.

 

It was my idea to add this glorious being to our family.

 

I just didn't realize training a puppy AND three kids, well, isn't as easy as I thought.

Consistency is key.

 

I just didn't realize consistency while homeschooling three kids isn't quite the consistency it takes to train a beagle.

 

But alas, we're pushing through. Okay, I'm pushing through. A baby gate is on the way to block her from her several marked poop zones.

 

You know it's bad when your two year old daughter says on a regular basis, "I smell somvin, I smell poop." which is often followed by a pretty severe gag reflex for a two year old when we finally track the smell down.

 

She has her Daddy's keen sense of smell.

 

And an invisible fence is on it's way as well thanks to my sister.

 

And lots of prayers. Seriously. I've had to repent A LOT to my kids after I've lost it with ol Molly. Trying to teach your kids not to throw fits doesn't go over too well when they see Mommy throwing a full blown adult fit in front of them.

 

Who would have thought the sanctification process would continue to be carried out through a dog?

 

It is in my life.

 

And that's life with Molly. At least my point of view.

 

With a few snuggles and cuddles in between.

 

 

 

 

 

 

Red Rover for Dummies

Our first multi-sibling post here giving you some important Red Rover tips.

 

Kate:  If you're going to play, play with style. That way, if you go down, at least you look good. And let's face it, I'm going down. Though I'm the heftier of the Harman clan, I'm still lacking in the strength and speed department, vital components to a competitive game of Red Rover. So, when all else fails, wear beads.

Grant here with my tip: Run fast. As fast as you can. If you're the only boy, then definitely, definitely give it all you've got. You don't want to give the male race a bad name.

 

And, more importantly, try to steer clear of getting clothes-lined. Always, ALWAYS, run toward the arms that are from the shortest people. I learned this lesson the hard way.

 

And finally, take some advice from me, Hannah, pick out the strongest players and stick with them. Irene and Rachel proved to be the best teammates with the strongest arms. Link arms with them and you're set. What can I say, wisdom comes with age.