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Wednesday, September 30, 2009

Meeting one of my favorites...

Can barely contain my excitement. I don't know if my husband intended this to be a surprise, but if he did, it's not anymore. I just received the following email. (And yes, I'm sharing it with everyone.)

You have successfully purchased (2) tickets to James Patterson Conversations. The Rogers Public Library will be in contact with you soon, and Tickets purchased Monday, September 28 or after will be held as Reservations at Registration.

Again, thanks for your purchase and we hope to see you there!

I'm pretty sure this means... I AM GOING TO GET TO MEET JAMES PATTERSON!!!!

What ever will I wear??!! My husband is incredible. THANK YOU, MATT!!!

Thursday, September 24, 2009

One-sided Conversation

Mom, we need to talk.

And you best be down with that.

Love, Jeb

Tuesday, September 22, 2009

Yea, Golf Team!

So, I will admit to, at times, becoming a tad frustrated with being stuck at home with my three kids for hours while my husband 'hangs out' on the golf course. I will also admit to a bit of eye rolling. Maybe a cross word. Or two. Y'all, I just wasn't cut out to be a coach's wife. I DO NOT KNOW how you football wives do it! And it's not that I don't like golf. I just don't understand a single second of it. I'm learning, though... slowly.

That said, I am SO proud of the Shiloh Golf team. Today they won their regional tournament and will compete in state next month. Way to go, guys! I promise, from here on out, to be TOTALLY supportive. GO GOLF!!

Saturday, September 19, 2009

Project Runway Moment

Project Runway. It’s one of my guilty pleasures. LOVE Tim Gunn. Last week, I had a Project Runway moment of my own. One afternoon, Belle tells me she needs to “talk.” I sat her down, and she relayed to me a story of which I will summarize for you here. It went something like this….

While playing at an 'undisclosed location', one of her little girlfriends got into an altercation (my word, not hers) with a boy. Belle, Ms. Nosey Pants, interjects herself into the midst of said altercation. At some point, the boy becomes aggressive toward the girl, and Supergirl Slaughter, kicked at him—her words, “I barely got him.” At this point I feel the need to interject the fact that while my middle child can fib with the best of them, Belle cannot. Her little conscience just won’t allow it. While I do not live under the false pretence that my six year old is perfect, F-A-A-A-R from, I do know that the child, try as she may, simply can’t successfully lie. Back to the story. After Belle’s ‘barely’ kick, the boy “pushed her to the ground,” causing her elbow to bleed and then…(this is the really good part) “slapped her hard across the cheek.” When she tells me this, her eyes fill with tears, and she grabs me around my neck and won’t let go.

If my blood simmered at the ‘pushed her down’ part, it began to boil violently at the ‘slapping’ part. You know on Project Runway just after the fashion show when all the designers are standing on the runway awaiting their fate and the cameras focus in on Heidi Klum? Well, for a moment, while sitting there holding my weeping child, I became Heidi Klum. My immediate thought was to hunt down this boy and his mother (though I have no idea who they are), line them up, and tell them ever so sharply, yet without the German accent, “We’re going to have a little chat, and when we’re finished, one of you, will be OUT!” I. WAS. FURIOUS. I saw myself on the phone to authority figures, the mayor, the governor, the President. I would have justice for my child somehow, someway! I began to wonder where I could find a pitchfork and burning torch... and a horse. My mind was racing, and then… Belle pulled out of my arms and looked at me with those big blue eyes, waiting for me to speak, and suddenly, I realized... as much as I’d like, I can’t fight every battle that comes her way.

I brushed her hair out of that sweet face, and while I wanted to tell her how Mommy was going to take care of everything, instead, I took her by the shoulders and told her that she should never ever involve herself in conflict. I told her she needed to apologize to the boy in question and promise me that from now on, she would steer clear of others’ clashes. She walked away, still in tears, but with her little heart settled.

I have thought about what happened so much since last week. Not that I’m still mad. I mean, don’t get me wrong, I’d still like to have a little ‘chat’ with this child to talk about how never under any circumstances do boys hit girls!!!!! (pardon the excessive amount of exclamation points in a grammatically incorrect position), but more than that, I keep thinking of how much our Father must hurt when we hurt. How much He must long to rescue us from our every pain and mistake but how sometimes He has to just point us in the right direction, let us learn from what we've done wrong, and say, “Go and do what you know is right.” I love that picture. It is almost inconceivable for me to believe that someone could possibly love my child more than I loved her when I held her there in my arms, but He does. In fact, my love for her 'is like a raindrop to the sea' compared to His. Incredible. And if He didn't vaporize the kid, who I am to take him out? I guess I owe him a thanks. The little incident taught Belle and her Mommy a big lesson. A hard lesson. I can't always come to her rescue. There are battles she must learn to fight without me. But I can try to guide her down the path, maybe not holding her hand, but pointing her in the right direction. And as Tim Gunn would say, just let her "carry on."

Thursday, September 17, 2009

Sweet Sisters

Where, oh, where did the time go? I clearly remember the day this picture was taken. Belle kept yelling at the photographer, "You don't take my picture!" And Estella kept putting her toes in her mouth every time we turned around. And her poor bow is about to pop off at any moment. I honestly don't know how we even got this shot. They look so little to me.

Today, they fuss and fight and, every now and then, love on each other. The fussing and fighting happen with much more frequency. Oh, my girls.

I read a quote by Margaret Mead that said, "Sister is probably the most competitive relationship within the family, but once the sisters are grown, it becomes the strongest relationship." That is my prayer. They don't know yet how blessed they are, but the gift of each other is so amazing. I hope you are right, Ms. Mead.

Tuesday, September 15, 2009

Dear Husband,

Dear Husband,

I am sorry it has come to this. I have exhausted all other options and see no other course of action than to go public with our current predicament. The truth must be shared. It is imperative that others understand the depth of our situation so that they may learn from it and avoid similar circumstances of their own.

I have been mortified, ashamed... unable to go get the mail without sprinting, all the while, hiding my face in disgrace and humiliation. I have begged, employed manipulation and shame and several like tactics to coerce you into alleviating the problem, yet you have refused cooperation. I fear what the future may hold. Can we continue to show our faces in public? Can our children play outside without the fear of public ridicule and mockery? It is a situation that could dictate the course of the rest of our lives if not handled properly and, above all, immediately.

So, my sweet husband, I beg your assistance this final time. Please. Before the entire family is chased into hiding, help us. We plead with you. Mow the yard!!!

I measured.

21 inches.

Your son is 27 inches.

There exists the very real possibility that, while happily playing as children do, he might lose his way in the jungle that is our front yard and never be seen again. The thought terrifies him.

I leave you with a final, ghastly image. Oh the shame!

Your Loving Wife

P.S. Yes it IS a boy job.

Saturday, September 12, 2009

"Put that down!"

Today was a monumental day. Matt took the training wheels off both girls' bikes, and they learned to ride a 2-wheeler. It's about time. That said, their new feat really has nothing to do with this video. It's just funny.

Friday, September 11, 2009


This is just so weird I had to capture it on video and post it. Every night before bed, Jeb goes through his list of 'kisses.' Me, the girls, Daddy, and Faulkner--yes, he has to kiss the cat. We don't discriminate in the Slaughter house. When Daddy and the girls are gone during the day at nap time, the barrage of kisses fall to me and Faulkner only. Except, as of this past week, he has added an additional special someone, or rather something, to kiss. If I do not allow him to kiss it, he screams and cries and will not sleep until I get him up and let him have his kiss. Please see video below....

Texting Entertainment

I was just reviewing some text messaging threads between Matt and me. They are always so entertaining. I thought I would share. They span over a couple of days, so they may not make a lot of sense. Still... entertaining.

Me: Is someone gonna help you get the washer?

Matt: You
Matt: You did help me carry the picnic table.
Matt: Plus you're doing body pump.

(Side note: I almost killed myself with that picnic table and shed actual tears. And I did body pump twice and shamefully dropped out.)

Me: Shut up.

Matt: YOU shut up.

Matt: Feeling better?

Me: Yes.

Matt: K. I love you. Want to go to lunch?

Me: No money.

Matt: Yes. I have enough for lunch.

Me: Where'd you get it? You pimpin?

Matt: Yes, and it's really hard work. Where you want to go?

Me: PF Changs

Matt: WHAT?!

Me: Pimps make lots of cash.

Matt: yea but they don't eat Chinese food.

Me: I don't know where else pimps like to take their girls.

Matt: Jason's Deli, but...

Me: But what?

Matt: You have problems ordering there.

Me: It's only the most terrifying ordering situation known to man. Can't go there.

(Side note: I'm in a cold sweat thinking about ordering at Jason's Deli.)

Matt: Where would you like?

Me: J D is fine as long as you go through the line of death by yourself.

Pimping and Body Pump... Our conversations are not for the faint of heart.

On a similar note, we have recently been introduced to Skype. Jeb loves to Skype Daddy in his office. I'm sure it drives Matt crazy when he's trying to work. Oh well! I love this picture.

Wednesday, September 9, 2009

Oh, Estella.

I think it's safe to say that all three of the Slaughter children have a flair for the dramatic. I have absolutely NO idea where they get it. HAS to the be Slaughter side. I would say, however, that none of them like their drama like Estella Dru. At least once a day she asks, "Mama, when do I get to do my concert?" When I ask if she plans on singing or dancing or what, she says, "I don't know. I just want a lot of people there looking at me." Of course she does.

The second that girl gets home from school, the school clothes come off, and the dress up gear goes on. A few days ago, I told her that we were going to be playing outside and that she needed to run in and change her shoes. This is what she chose....

If she is at home, I can guarantee you, she is in full-on dress up mode. Her favorite time, though, has to be bedtime. Every night we tuck her nicely into bed in a cute pair of pj's and every night, at some point unbeknownst to us, she gets up and either accessorizes or completely changes out of the pj's and into something more glam.

This one was taken a few years ago. (Oh no, it's not a fleeting trend. We're talking years.) This little number she put together was a wedding ensemble.

This one is from last year. The pj's stayed on but were accessorized with a pair of goggles. Very couture chic.

And this shot was from last week. Again, the jammies stayed on, but she paired them with a pair of Tom Cruise-esque sunglasses. And somehow she ended up out of bed and in the floor in a Tinkerbell sleeping bag. Don't ask because I have no idea. I love my little glamour girl.

Thursday, September 3, 2009

Daddy Spotting

The Shiloh/Evangel game is televised tonight. I really wanted to be there, but Matt had to be involved in all the 'fuss'. And one parent plus three children isn't my idea of fun. So, the girls and Jeb and I watched it from home. Instead of being super 'into' the actual game, the girls made up their own game called, "Find Daddy." We waited and searched and waited and searched until finally... we spotted him. The girls started jumping up and down and screaming, and Jeb, of course, followed right along. Matt just happened to be in the frame, but you'd have thought he was the star of the evening. They were so proud.

(Not sure what E Dru's do rag is all about. They are sort of a staple around here. Like mother, like daughter.)

Other than Daddy's tv appearance it was a big day also because it was Grandpa's 88th birthday. I plan on doing a post just for him, but that will probably happen next week. We plan on spending the weekend with him, and I hope to get lots of good pictures. So until then, Happy Birthday, Pawpaw/Grandpa!! And way to go, Matt. You're a super star to three little sweethearts !

Wednesday, September 2, 2009

Paula and Beth

I haven't posted any recipes lately. We've been super busy since school started. Plus, I just hadn't run across any that merited sharing. Until now. And yes, the first one is Paula Deen. I love her. Love her stuff. Love her show. Love. Love. Love. This recipe is for something she calls lemon blossoms. They are easy and, for lemon lovers like me, oh so yummy. Go HERE for the recipe. The second is for Beth Moore's Texas Sheet Cake. Beth shared this with us via simulcast last weekend. By the way, the simulcast was incredible. No surprise there. It's Beth Moore. When she described this cake, she said, "It's so good it makes you just want to hit somebody."

We have new neighbors, so I wanted to take them a little treat. The lemon blossoms were the perfect size, and instead of slicing the cake, I cut it out with a cookie cutter. I highly recommend both, but the lemon blossoms are a must. Seriously... you can't go wrong with Paula Deen and Beth Moore.