West Texas Mama

Little Sunshine is growing quickly and she provides us with more than one laugh a day.  Here are a few of the recent ones: This one her Bible class teacher told me last night:  They were studying the Lord's Supper and what each of the components mean.  Her teacher moves the discussion from what happened to discussing the meaning behind each component.  She asks Emma, "What does the bread represent?"  Emma replies, "Toast?" Recently I was doing her hair, getting it brushed and ready so she could go with her aunt to see her grandparents.  As I was doing so, Emma kept smiling and admiring herself in the mirror.  Without prompt she says in a sing-song voice:  "I am going to look FABULOUS!"  Humility, thy name art Emma. Recently, Emma has taken an anti-romance stance.  Her father and I, who are legally married and therefore allowed the occasional smooch, have been adamantly warned not to do so in her presence.  If we do attempt to break ...

I have many moments wherein I adamantly believe that my son's first grade teacher whoops and does a dance of joy as he exits her classroom each day.  I'm quite certain she fervently prays for strength and patience each night just to be able to make it through her very own live version of a Calvin and Hobbs cartoon strip. Each Tuesday, Jake's teacher send home all of his work from the previous week.  Tuesday evenings, we have made certain to set aside a special time for him to go through each paper with us and show us what he has learned or what he thought about the assignments.  This week is no exception, however, it provided me with a few good laughs.  This week's folder had several notebook paper pages that were not graded.  I asked Jake what the assignments were, and he informed his teacher had him doing "free writing".  As a former English teacher myself, I love that he is writing so much.  Here is a sampling of what he wrote:  (grammat...

It's been a very busy time for WTM.  Recently, I went to a conference for the real job (you know, the one that pays - not this one.  This one only has non-tangible benefits such as sharing the exploits of my family so that you can understand or sympathize or just feel better about yourself.)  This conference was in San Francisco, a city I had never visited. Much goes into the preparation for the Mama to leave.  Beyond the normal packing, checking in for flights, and attempting to keep the look of glee and anticipation off my face as I somberly assure El Hubbo and the munchkins that I will miss them greatly, there are the other preparations that must take place:  (1)  Review schedule for all available sight-seeing opportunities (2) Research restaurant options (3) Develop entertainment agenda (4) Draft schedule and contact information for El Hubbo to attempt to keep up with a fraction of what his wife does on a weekly basis. This last item is critical. ...

It's always difficult to not freak out when your child utters his or her first expletive.  No matter how hard you try to shield them from vulgar language, and no matter how hard you try to not freak out when they invariably bust out with one of the really, really bad ones in public, it is just going to happen. El Hubbo and I have managed fairly well to remain calm and attempt to stress the seriousness to our children of not using many of the words they will overhear or learn from their friends.  I've even been known to get up from a table in a restaurant and ask the people next to us to watch their language.  We relocated from our seats at a certain college baseball stadium. We've taken extra precautions to edit our own language, which is difficult when one has just broken one's toe against the foot of the bed.  (Yep, speaking from experience.)  El Hubbo, in his extraordinarily creative way, has more than once had a standard household incident that causes im...

Well, El Hubbo is gone again, and of course there is too much to do, not enough time to do it, and no one to help.  I seem to be caught on a treadmill set to too high a speed on an incline.  I race here and there, when I am home, I run about the house trying (and failing) to pick up, clean up, etc.  In addition to work and church, we have to squeeze in Spanish lessons (Jake), boy scouts, and the occasional workout (which I am trying to make non-optional since I really would like to live to see these kids pay for everything they do to me).  To top it off, I got to add a trip to the vet today. While many of you probably think we utilize a vet for our offspring, you would be wrong.  (Granted, my experience working for a vet, and El Hubbo's experience doctoring hogs and other barnyard animals does make us a little more willing to try home remedies for general ailments, aches, and pains.) No, this trip was indeed for the four-legged livestock living in our home. ...

Well, 'tis the season.  El Hubbo has hit the road for stock shows, and I am once again a stock show widow.  It's the season I refer to as "Murphy" as his law kicks into high gear and kicks my tail on an almost daily basis. SUNDAY This year Murphy didn't even wait for El Hubbo to leave before slapping me around a bit.  Being the devoted, kind-hearted wife that I am, I arose early last Sunday to fix my family a nice breakfast before we readied ourselves for church.  I had a nice sausage and cheese pastry baking away.  I turned the light on for the oven to check it's progress.....and it was progressing nicely.  Looked ever so scrumptious.  I reached to turn the light back off and it did not go off.  I toggled the switch back and forth and .........nothing.  Befuddled, but not yet panicked, I decided maybe the oven just needed a little time to decide to cooperate, and went about my business.  (Time is the usual cure for unresponsive appli...

What does one do when one sees four bananas that look a little past their prime hanging on the banana hook?  Many a modern girl would throw said fruit away, fearful of the blackish-brown spots that have overtaken the fresher yellow skin.  Nay, nay, says a girl brought up baking.  Those blackish-brown spots are a gift from God and make the heart of every true baker sing with anticipation of the delights that can be coaxed from it mushiness. This morning, not having had to arise for work (one thing I do thank the state legislature for), the kids and I lay piled in bed discussing the opportunities the day held.  Jake decided he was fully prepared to make waffles for breakfast.  With very little adult supervision (just enough to make sure he didn't burn himself on the waffle iron), he turned out 6 very nice, tasty waffles.  He even dressed them up with syrup for Emma and I. As if this wasn't enough to make a mama's heart swell and burst, Emma decided she wa...