Archive for the Category »Bonny Annie «

Breakfast-in-Bed Means….

  • …that it’s your birthday.
  • …that your kids love you.
  • …that your kids are sweet.
  • …that your kids are creative.
  • …that you’re thankful that you taught Bonny Annie how to make really good scrambled eggs.
  • …that you are not expected to eat the leaves.  They are for decoration purposes only.
  • …that your kids had no idea that when they awoke you with this tray at 7am that you had just rounded out a total of three hours of sleep because their baby brother stayed awake until almost 3:30am.
  • …that if you’re not careful and majorly sleep-deprived that the homemade smoothie in the left-hand corner will tip over and spill all over your quilt.
  • …that you are a blessed woman….even if you have to get up now and wash your quilt on a ridiculous amount of sleep.

And on another note, please pray for Cap’n Jack Henry today.  He’s having inguinal hernia surgery later this morning.

Even though for unknown reasons, he likes to torture me in the wee morning hours, I’m hoping everything goes smoothly and that he’ll….well, ummm….ahem…get his….oh boy….*cough, cough*…testicle back.  There…I said it.  Thanks.

8th Grade Politics

Welcome to Flashback Friday!

When I was in the 8th grade, I ran for Student Council president.  I was my homeroom’s representative and any 8th grader could run, so I did, against three of my friends.  There is a picture in my yearbook of the entire student council, but that would have involved rummaging in my attic, and at this time of year, would put me at risk of a brown recluse bite.  So I rummaged around on the computer, a much safer and less creepy activity, and found this picture from about the same time period.

My campaign slogan could have been:  Vote for Me….I’ll Bend Over Backward for You!  Or perhaps:  Vote for Kellie….Her Hair Blends Right in with the Floor!

Well, despite whatever efforts I put into the whole thing, I lost and I spent the rest of the year just being a measly student council rep.

The past couple of weeks have been a bit of deja vu for me because Bonny Annie has been waging a campaign to become the middle school representative for her home school tutorial.  It’s a little weird isn’t it that a home school tutorial would have a student government?  It’s fairly large for a tutorial (about 100 students from 6th-12th grades) and has other school-ish activities and offerings like yearbooks and proms and such.

So, anyway, she wanted to run, and all of the hurt and heartbreak of my own failed campaign came flooding back into my bruised psyche.  I immediately decided to live vicariously through my teen-aged daughter and win this time!

First, we busied ourselves with the poster angle.  The following were Bonny Annie’s creations based on her three-pronged message of EXPERIENCE, LEADERSHIP and SERVITUDE.

And here was my idea…

Is there any wonder that I failed at a political career?

Actually that poster was a big hit at the tutorial.  You can’t see it in the picture, but Annaleigh was offering a candy prize to anyone who could name the four historical, red-headed leaders.  Do you know who they are?  I’ll tell you at the end of this post.

Next, we offered little voting incentives…

Get it?  Pick me?  You know….’cause it’s a flower.

She also had to give a speech to the student body, which I didn’t get to hear.  I’ve been told it was good though.

As a last straw, I offered to bake chocolate chip cookies if she was elected.  In a desperate measure, I posted it to her facebook page.

After all this, Bonny Annie still didn’t think she would win.  Her reasoning was that out of the four who were running, there was just one boy.  She thought he’d naturally get most of the male vote, and then the three girls who were running were all friends and hung out with the same crowd and would split votes.  It sounded pretty logical to me.

*Sigh…*  It’s going to be just like my 8th grade election, I thought.  All of that hard work and dedication.  All of those promises.  All of my….I mean her…hopes, dreams plans.  All gone.  All dashed to pieces.   All the…

Except Bonny Annie won.  She is now the elected middle school representative of West Harpeth Christian Tutorial.

And I won’t need therapy after all.  And I have to bake six dozen cookies.

The red-headed leaders on the poster are Winston Churchill, Thomas Jefferson, Queen Elizabeth I, and Napolean.

A fellow student said to Annaleigh that they didn’t think Napolean was a very good example of a positive leader, and she retorted, “While he may have had some psychological issues, he was  a brilliant military strategist.”  So there you go.

Brothers

I’m glad Dirty Harry has a brother.  He needed a brother.

Cap’n Jack Henry is someone he can laugh with…

…share secrets with…

…play with…

…make monkey faces with…

Now, my only question is, does she…

…need a sister?

Naaaaaahhhhhh! 

FBF: The Last Dance

Welcome to Flashback Friday!

With Bonny Annie recently turning thirteen, it has me feeling all nostalgic and sappy about her in general (except when she rolls her eyes at me, but that’s  another story altogether).  I stumbled upon some pictures of her when she first started dance classes at age three, and I realized that I had not documented her very last dance recital in May.

Yes, Bonny Annie has decided to hang up her toe shoes.  *Sigh*  She had gotten to a level, after ten years of dance  that the commitment level was going to be too much.  One and half hour classes three times a week, plus membership in the dance company which was an extra class once a week and performances, plus student teaching…..it was just going to be a lot for us if she wanted to also continue with TaeKwonDo and drama.  Not to mention her brother’s TKD classes and baseball!  And also not to mention that we have a baby!

I sort of hemmed and hawed about the whole thing.  I liked the whole girly aspect of ballet….the frilly costumes, the make-up, the bobby pins.  Well, maybe not the bobby pins.   ”But Mom, let’s face it.  I don’t want to be a professional dancer, and that would be the only point in continuing at this point,” she said to me.

She’s a sensible girl.

Now, let’s travel all the way back to the year 2000 and see where it all began…

The above photo was taken May 16, 2000, right after her last class of the year.  She was so proud of her first trophy (and it’s still sitting on her bedside table right now).  I’m so sure of the date because the next day I gave birth to her brother.

And a week later, we had her first recital….

I’m trying to look at the bright side in all of this:  there will be less bobby pins on my floor.

A Letter to My Teenaged Daughter

Dear Bonny Annie (on the day after your 13th birthday),

Wow!  You’re a teenager.  What a milestone!

The teen years can be tricky.  I know…I’ve been there.  As your mother, I think it’s important to share with you some tips and tricks for maneuvering these coming choppy waters.  Since I’m a pirate, you should listen to me and heed carefully.  I know what I’m talking about.

  • First of all, boys are overrated.  Someday, probably when you’re about 33,  God will send a boy into your life who is just like your father.  But until then, just leave them alone.  Don’t look at them.  Don’t talk to them.  Definitely don’t touch them.  You know what?  Don’t even think about them.
  • Driving is overrated.  Don’t worry about it.  I will take you anywhere you need to go, unless where you need to go involves boys, until you’re about 33, and then your husband, who is just like your father, can take you.
  • Leaving home is overrated.  I know many parents expect their kids to leave around age 18.  21 at the latest.  Your Dad and I don’t expect this.  I need you here to pour Dirty Harry’s cereal and hold Jack Henry so that I can shower.  Also, if you leave, I will be alone with all of these dirty boys.  You can stay until you’re about 33….rent free.
  • Purple hair, eyeliner, belly-button piercings, loud music, mood swings…..all overrated.  Trust me.  Leave these things alone.  They will kill you.
  • Stop rolling your eyes.  They WILL get stuck one day in the back of your head.  I believe this happens at approximately 4,231 times.  I have lost track at the number you’re on, but it has to be getting close.  Your eyes are too pretty to get stuck like that.
  • Contrary to popular belief, your dad and I do remember what being a teenager is like, and things haven’t changed that much sense the 80s.  Well, except for computers, and cell phones, and the President, and Michael Jackson is deceased.  Never mind….we know nothing about being teenagers.
  • No, you can’t borrow my car, my money, my perfume, or my make-up.  Ever.
  • I know where you are, what you’re doing and what you’re thinking at all times.  I can’t tell you how I can do this, or I’d have to lock you away in a tower for the rest of your life.  Wait a minute….come here….I need to tell you something….
  • I’m kidding about all of this.  Except for the boys.
  • I’m proud of you.
  • I love you.

Love,

Your Pirate Mom

Category: Bonny Annie  Tags: , ,  7 Comments
A Home Schooling (Horror) Story

The following is based on a true story….

Once upon a time, in a land far, far away, a home schooling pirate mom woke up to her dining room table looking like this….

She was a nice, neat pirate, who liked order and cleanliness.  She was an unusual pirate.

Innocently, she called her pirate children down for a day of school and said, “Today, children, we are going to decorate covers for our notebooks.”

So that’s what the children did.  Her children, however, were ordinary pirates who enjoyed mess, mayhem and gore.

When they were finished, the pirate mom’s table looked like this…

…and the pirate mom screamed, and cried, and gnashed her teeth, and said, “Now we have to go eat dinner at Cracker Barrel because we can’t see the top of our table.”

The End.

I Came. I Saw. I Heckled.

Revenge is sweet.

Dirty Harry, as you know if you’re a regular visitor to my blog, plays baseball, and he made All-Stars.  This week the team has been playing in our district tournament, and we’ve been doing really well.  As a matter of fact, last night we played for the championship.  We lost, but I don’t want to talk about that right now.  It still hurts a little….especially since we lost in extra innings.  Because our home town was hosting this event, the stands were extraordinarily crowded, and since I’m always lugging a large stroller, a diaper bag, several folding chairs, and a large iced coffee from McDonald’s, I decided that we would try sitting out behind the left field fence.

Our view was very good, and it wasn’t until we were stationed out there that I thought about the fact that we were directly behind Dirty Harry’s position of left field.  And it wasn’t until we were out there for a while that I realized this was my golden opportunity to heckle him to death.

Oh, and heckle I did.

Hustle Harrison!  Are your feet made of lead?

Catch the ball! 

Use two hands!

Throw it in!

Second base!  Second base!

After a while I realized there was no reason to limit my comments to just baseball.  This was my chance to let it all out, to let him know how I feel about…well…everything/

Clean your room, #13!

Don’t leave your underwear on the bathroom floor!

Your handwriting is atrocious!

I still have nasty scars and stretch marks from when I carried you and brought you into the world!

He couldn’t do anything about it.  He had to just stand there and play left field and take it like a man.  But play he did!  That boy caught almost half a dozen fly balls!  Which only made me think I should heckle him more often.

I am sorry about blogging about baseball so much, but we really haven’t done much else lately.  It is consuming our lives…..or ruining it in Bonny Annie’s estimation.  Speaking of Bonny Annie, she was at the game in left field with me too…

She reads her Harry Potterbooks, makes trips to the concession stand for Icees, and complains about being there.  I have to heckle her too.

Stop you’re bellyaching!  Do you know how many Nutcracker performances your brother has had to sit through?!

I don’t think she heard me.

Cap’n Jack Henry was there as well.

He’s a heckler too.

Get the ball, Bubby!  Get it!

Throw him out!

And then it turned ugly, and he started heckling me

Get me off this ballfield, woman!  I’ve been on a baseball field for half my life!

Take this silly bib off of me!

Where is my pacifier?!

Clearly I’m going to have to use a different tactic with this one.  Heckling, I believe, will get me nowhere.

 

 

Isn’t It Lovely…

….when your child wants to make dinner and dessert?  Lovely may not be the right word.  GloriousWonderfulFantasticCool?

Well, whatever word you choose from your thesaurus, it makes it a fine, fine day indeed.  Yesterday was that day for me.

For dinner, Bonny Annie made baked potatoes and topped them with ranch dressing and real crumbled bacon.  They were really good.  But then she served these little babies for dessert….

And since I don’t know their proper name, I’m just going to be calling them Little Bits of Lusciousness.

It is really quite simple to make the Little Bits of Lusciousness.  First you will need to soften some cream cheese (one brick….I think it’s 16 oz, but I’m too lazy to verify that right now).  Put it in a bowl along with about 1/4 c. of sugar and blend.  Next you will place about a tablespoon of that mixture into pre-prepared Phyllo shells.  These were the mini ones and came in packs of 15.  Bonny Annie was able to use almost all of the mixture, and what was left is delightful if scooped out with your fingers and eaten while standing over your kitchen sink.  I don’t know this personally, but I’ve heard.  To finish, you just top the little cups with whatever fresh fruit you have on hand.  As you can see, we had blueberries, strawberries and blackberries.  We also had cherries, but these would have required pitting, so they did not make it as a topper on this occasion.

Because she has a flair for the dramatic, Bonny Annie arranged the Little Bits of Lusciousness on a pretty plate and included a lovely strawberry/fancy toothpick garnish.  Now I’m forcing her to triple this recipe and serve it on Independence Day.  That will teach her to get all fancy-smancy in my kitchen!

Now, go forth and enjoy….especially if your kids do all the work!

She’s Baaaaaack.

Bonny Annie was invited by a wonderful family from our church to spend the week with them on a Florida pan-handle beach.  The family has four small children, with one more on the way, and they needed an extra set of arms and eyes to help out with their active family.  We said yes because we completely trust this family and thought it would be a good experience for Annaleigh (who is the one on the right in the above picture, by the way).

A couple of things happen to you when your nearly thirteen year-old, first-born child leaves for the beach for a whole week without you.  First, you stop breathing.  I was a little unsure if I could hold my breath for an entire week, but I achieved it, and I’m only a little blue from the experience.  This condition worsens when you realize that her cell phone doesn’t have good signal in the house they were staying, so you can only leave frantic, crazed messages on her voice mail and wait for four hours for her to call you back from the front yard where she only has one…maybe two bars…of signal.  You have conversations like this…

Me: Hi!!! How are you?  Are you putting on sunscreen?  Are you having fun?  You’re not going too far out in the water,  right?  Are you homesick?  Are you sleeping well?  Are you eating well?  Huh?!  Huh?!  Huh?!”

Annaleigh: Mom…*garble*garble*garble*….beach,yeah….*garble*garble*garble*…the kids and I…*garble*garble*garble*….an alligator….*garble*garble*garble*…sunscreen….

Me:  What?!  Honey, I can’t hear you!  What about the kids?  Did you say ALLIGATOR?!  Put on the sunscreen, okay?  You’re doing that, aren’t you?  Annaleigh?  Annaleigh?!

She would be gone.  I’d call her back and leave 32 messages.  I wouldn’t hear from her until the next day when we start this routine all over again.

You worry a lot, even if by nature, you’re not usually a worrier.  I was having a conversation with a friend about mid-week, and she asked about Annaleigh and wanted to know where in Florida she was staying. 

“Seaside,” I answered.

“Oh, that’s where we stayed last year!  It’s wonderful!  Tell her to be careful though.  Last year two adults drowned when we were there.”

Thanks, friend.  I’d tell her if Verizon hadn’t lied and said they have good coverage everywhere.  That guy with the glasses obviously hasn’t been to Seaside and asked his famous question:  “Can you hear me now?”

When I saw the picture above, I reminded Annaleigh that I had cautioned her to not go out that far in the ocean without one of the adults. 

“Oh, Mr. Josh was there with me,” she said.

“Where?  I don’t see him.”

“He must have gotten knocked down by a wave, I guess,” was her casual reply.

I guess there are some things better left unknown.  Maybe there was a reason she didn’t have good cell service that week.  His ways are higher…that’s for sure…and apparently I needed a lesson in Who is in control.  Amen.

Category: Bonny Annie  Tags: , , ,  9 Comments

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