duh

Today, after the kids got home from school, I set about lining the boys up with their afternoon jobs. When I finished the list, I noticed the Middle Carrotstick was looking a little glassy eyed, and so I started to repeat the list -- thinking that the blank stare meant he hadn't been listening.

The Middle Carrotstick interrupted me.

"Mom." he said, "I speak the King's English."

well, allrighty then.

schizophrenic

do you think that in my next life, I could come back as a sports photographer?

here's my portfolio, for future reference:

safe? or out? what's your call?

check out this kid's face as he was inches away from being beaned by the ball...

and then there's this one:

Ok. I didn't actually take this one. some other mom did and I'm jealous. this is right after the boys won state and they did a celebratory lap around the bases. check out the setting sun and the rising dust. it's almost poetic, isn't it?

(I promise, this is the last of my baseball pictures. I think.)

What would you want to be in your next life?

seriously?

Though baseball season is long (practice started in April and championship games finished in the middle of July), we seriously enjoyed watching the boys play. It was a good way to spend an evening, sitting down at the ballfield.

To the casual onlooker, here's the team:

See, they're all happy. They won.

And now here's the tabloid version of the team (because inquiring minds want to know):

It was stressful for me because so much rides on the pitcher, and we take our baseball very seriously in this town.

'Cause we take our baseball very seriously around here.

'Cause we take our baseball very seriously around here.

'Cause we take our baseball way too seriously around here.

'Cause he takes his baseball very seriously even when he's not around here.

'Cause we take our baseball very seriously around here.

Also, his mom was almost escorted out of the ballpark for arguing with a mom on the other team during the city championship. (We take our baseball very seriously around here, you know.)

And he doesn't take baseball very seriously, at all.

But seriously, it's a game! And it was fun! When it wasn't too serious. And especially when they won.

(please don't stone me for blasphemy!)

not-so white socks

I just got back from an evening with the ladies in my book group and I feel so energized, I think I will blog. I know. Novel. Me. Blogging. Besides that, the Oldest Carrotstick is feeling neglected by the blogosphere and my failure to document her life. So, with that preface, I will now try to catch up on Old News. (Never fear, Oldest Carrotstick. I will write about you, just not in this post.)

Remember my string of posts bemoaning red dirt and white baseball pants?

What?????

You don't?!!!!!!????!!!

I don't blame you. I bored myself.

So here's a little refresher course. Hopefully it is slightly more entertaining.

Take this guy:

Add some of this:

Throw in a few of these:

And a shot of this:
(Come on, Blue!)

(This is me, trying take pictures through a chain link fence. Some of the parents were arguing the call and asked me if I had any evidence. Unfortunately, I think if you peer into the dust you can see the shadow of the 2nd baseman's foot on the base and the Middle Carrotstick isn't quite there.)

And you'll end up with a whole lot of this:

And sometimes even

a second (consecutive) State Championship Medal!

(These pictures are making me miss summer already.)

rise and shout!

PB&J had a most excellent time in the great state of Texas watching the Cougs take it to the Sooners.

It was joyful and triumphant.

In honor of that historic occasion, please enjoy looking at the following, found here:

Just what every kitchen needs: roadkill armadillo potholders.

Can I get a yeeeeeee-haaaaaw?