Mr. Sniffles

Just a little video of one of our Wal-Mart trips. Merrick loves to blow his nose now...and takes it upon himself often to help himself to toilet paper, or wipes from his room to blow his nose. He doesn't get the reason why someone blows their nose, however, because at this point he is the picture of health. :)

What did you just call me?

Around here...we really don't go by our real names. No we're not in the witness protection program or anything, we just have a thing for nicknames. I think this started in my *Austin-Lee's* family. In this family our cell phone contact lists hold names like Pookey, Spanky, Twiggy, and Annamal. To look at it you'd have no idea who these people are, or if they are even people.

Some of these names can be kind of embarrassing. I was knows as Lou-La-Bell for awhile. One of my sisters is Helga. My brother? Well, he was Frank the Monster. There is no rhyme or reason...it just happens. There is even a Sweet Face and a Mookins among my cousins...whatever that means. :)

My mom's side of the family has always nicknamed everyone. The joke is you're officially welcomed into the family when you've got a ridiculous nickname that takes the place of your real name, and said nickname is written on your birthday gifts, Christmas presents, and your cup at Thanksgiving dinner.

So...the nicknaming has obviously passed on to our family. Billy has always called me Lea-Girl, or Shooter...and I have been calling him 'B' since we were both in high school. I usually call the kiddos the hooligans when I'm referring to the both of them. But they have a plethora of nicknames all to themselves.Merrick started out as Merrick the Terrible. He was so serious that we all lived in fear of his dirty looks. :) It changed into Chubba when he went through his chubby phase at about 4 months. There is also Wild, and Mick is what his cousin Leia calls him. Then for some reason we started calling him Boogie. That one has stuck for a long time, and we are still calling him by that name. I'm pretty sure he thinks it's his real name.

We also call him Choppers, for several pearly white reasons you can in these pictures. :)
Then...we have Tirzah, aka Tizzy, or the less popular (with her mother) Tizz-Bomb. *That's the kind of name only an uncle named Frank the Monster would give you* We also call her So Pretty Girl, and T. Merrick simply calls her Beebees. She is also lovingly dubbed Cheekies. Again, for obvious reasons pictured below. :)
I guess I need to make sure they know their real names before they get too confused. I know their real names are a little different anyway, but no one would believe the kids who claim to be named Cheekies and Choppers. :)

Not Around Here...

Recently my little hometown of Farmville has been on the news. We don't live there anymore...but I grew up there, met some of my best friends there, met my hubby there, graduated from high homeschool there. Farmville is a a quaint little place, without a mall or Target, where everyone knows everyone and you kinda think Mayberry.

So we were surprised Friday evening to here the first stirrings of news of a tragedy in our little home town. Stuff like that just doesn't happen around here, is what everyone keeps saying, while shaking their heads in disbelief. What DID happen? Here is a link to the news story.

A lot of times stories get twisted around by the gossip chain, and it kind of reminds you of a game of *telephone* from when you were a kid. This story is sad, and hits close to home, in any of the versions that I heard over the weekend. I think I wanted to write about this because it really has made me stop and think. It has bothered me, how things don't bother many of us, until it's right in our face.Things like a quadruple murder happen all the time, in other places. And they are easy to ignore, because of just that. But I am beginning to realize that no one is exempt from tragedies. That guy in the news stories is someone's little boy, who most likely ended the life of someone else's little girl, that little girl's parents, and a friend. I found myself wondering how someone gets to that point in their lives where they do something like this. Then I also began to realize how very blessed I have been. Sheltered even. I've been saved by God's grace, and given the promise of Him never leaving me...even if I'm in the middle of a tragedy.

I'm so grateful for this, and at the same time disappointed with myself for not realizing before a tragedy, how very much I have. God has given me so much. I have 2 hooligans, a great husband, surrounded by family and friends, and a safe home to sleep in every night. These two hooligans, and many other kids who we work with every weekend at church, need to learn the same lesson. They need to be invested in, and shown Who God is, so that their lives meet all the potential God has given to them.No, I'm not rolling in the dough, we could use an extra bedroom in our house, my kids need warmer clothes soon, we are way too busy sometimes, and diapers cost a fortune. BUT, as far as the things that really matter...I've got plenty. :) I hope that this lesson sticks with me for...well forever.

Candid is Our Middle Name

This week at I Heart Faces the theme is Candid...

I looked up the meaning in the dictionary, just for kicks: frank, outspoken, open and sincere, free from reservation, informal, unposed, the Barron family (esp. Merrick Wilder). Did they pick this theme for Merrick? :) All of my photos of my kids have to be candid. Because they won't sit still long enough to pose if I beg...which I have. :)

So we took Merrick to his first official playground trip yesterday after church, and I dragged along my extra appendage camera. It was a great trip, even with the classic *don't make me leave* tantrum at the end. ;)

But, in my opinion, candid is the best way to do it. :)

Seasoned

Recently I've noticed something in my house smells. Weird. *You have 2 hooligans under the age of 2, you say, of course your house smells weird.) But no, really, something smelled weird and I couldn't figure out what on earth it was. No matter where I stuck my nose and smelled *which I did, repeatedly, in every room and surface in the house* I couldn't figure it out, but I knew it was coming from somewhere in my kitchen. Billy has accused me of insanity, and an oversensitive sense of smell. But finally, today, vengeance was mine. OK, a little dramatic, but we finally figured out what the heck that smell was. :)

Yes, Merrick has developed a new flare for...my spice rack. Billy and I were minding our own business, obviously not a good idea around here, getting ready to go out to run some errands, when I hear from the kitchen: "You have GOT to see this." Those words usually mean Merrick has managed to scale something I previously thought was a safe zone. :)

Merrick had helped himself to the spices...this one in particular. *I guess it just must be the easiest one to get to.* And he used it to decorate my kitchen floor and his shoes. As soon as I walked into the kitchen...I knew what that smell had been. Obviously this wasn't the first time he had gotten into the spice rack, because I've been smelling it for about 2 weeks now. I was starting to go crazy wondering if I'd ever find out what it was.

But since he left evidence of his undercover seasoning activities this time...the mystery is finally solved. I'm just glad to know that I wasn't losing my mind, or my sense of smell.