Not Me!

The cable guy who showed up an hour early last week did NOT find me barely out of my pajamas still sweeping up broken glass in the kitchen from an earlier mishap with children running around still in their pajamas and the baby with a snotty nose and a saggy diaper.

And if he had seen me in that state, I certainly would NOT have been wearing pink fuzzy slippers!

Nope! Not me! Because I am woman! I am invincible! I am always on the ball and never taken by surprise.

I certainly would never forget about a scheduled out of town trip my husband told me about weeks ago and plan my daughter's birthday party during that time! Especially if we only have friend parties on 5th, 10th, and 15th birthdays, because that would be a big deal, and what kind of parent would plan a big deal party when the dad is out of town?

Not me! That's who!

I also would never make a 4 year old child wear wet shoes to church to drive home a point about not leaving shoes outside overnight during a rainstorm. Why, that would just be downright mean, and do you know who is downright mean?

Not me!

And I would never interrupt myself in a video post on How to Make Homemade Country Gravy THREE TIMES to tell a child she absolutely could not wear that outfit to church.

Nope. Not me! That would be unprofessional and distracting.

What about you? What have you NOT been up to?

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Interview With a Stinker

It's almost like I can't stop posting videos, isn't it?

Not to worry, if you are craving some Smockity wordiness, check out my guest post on Life as Mom, "Shopping in Your Own Kitchen", where I explain how I can feed our family of 9 for 33 cents each.

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Leavin' on a Jet Plane

I just bought my first plane ticket since the 1900's.

Seriously, I haven't flown since 1998. I hear a few things have changed since then, so I guess I'll be wearing my good socks. And underwear. Just in case I have to show proof that I'm harmless.

I bet you'll never guess where I'm going, either.

That's right! A gen-yoo-wine blogging conference!

I hope I learn all kinds of pertinent stuff like:

• Is it offensive to a readership to use the Southern Plural Possessive "all y'all's"?
• Is it appropriate to call 10-15 people a "readership"?
• Will posting a picture of a baby in a bag be cause for alarm to Child Protective Services?
• Are readers interested in diaper changing videos wherein a bad rendition of "Don't Stop Believin'" is the highlight?

The part I am most looking forward to, though, is meeting a whole big bunch of ladies I have been stalking reading about for years!

I can't wait to meet Lora Lynn of Vita Familiae! The first thing I'm going to do is show off my fancy Latin pronunciation of her blog name and see if I've been getting it right (in my head, where I say it) all this time. If not, I'll just keep saying it that way anyway. Who would know? IT'S ALL IN MY HEAD!

I'm also dying to meet Toni, The Happy Housewife. I won't tell her that I'm thinking of stealing a couple of her kids' names for our new baby, though. ~wicked laugh~

Crystal Paine, Money Saving Mom, (formerly Biblical Womanhood) will be there, too! I'll probably have to stand in line to meet her, but I can't wait!

And I'll be looking for Kimberly of Raising Olives.  She's pregnant, too, so maybe I'll get a cute photo of the two of us together. But only if she doesn't make me look too fat.

I'm rooming with Monica from Daily Dwelling (She said I could borrow her curly hair products. Remember, Monica?) and Liz from Hoosier Homemade. Word has it that Liz is going to be bringing her famous cupcakes. They will be in our room the whole time! STAND BACK! Pregnant lady at the buffet!

What about you? Are you going to Blissdom? Who would you want to meet?

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Not Me!

I am a very responsible and conscientious parent.

When it is a frigid 28 degrees on an early January Sunday morning, I make sure all my children have their coats before we load up to head to church. I am so attentive that when we get there I certainly would NOT allow my five year old to leave hers on her seat, exit the car, and make the long walk from the packed parking lot without her coat.

Not me! That would be irresponsible parenting!

I am also so conscientious that I would never allow my children to pack themselves for an out of town trip and when we got to our destination and one of them had forgotten a toothbrush, I certainly would NOT tell them to just use mine!

Not me! That would be unsanitary!

I would also never procrastinate so much that I would be sewing the last of seven sets of Christmas pajamas on Christmas Eve.

Not me! That would be adding stress to an already stressful time of year.

What about you? What have you NOT done recently?

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Smockity Frocks: How It All Began

**Are you reading The Bible in 90 Days? Be sure to read your first 12 pages today and click over to Mom's Toolbox for your daily dose of encouragement!

The photo that started it all.

Well, it's been exactly three years today since Smockity Frocks has been up and running. In blog years, that's practically a lifetime!

In honor of this momentous occasion, and for your reading pleasure, I thought I would recap the events which led to me saying, "Hey, you know what would be nifty? If I were to publish the thoughts that are bouncing around in my head for the whole world wide web to read!"

• December 2006 - Barbara from Mommy Life announces an apron photo contest while lamenting that her favorite oilcloth apron is no longer for sale. I see the photo of the apron and think, "I could totally make that!" I also decide to enter the contest and coerce my children into taking goofy pictures of me posing in an apron I made from a vintage pattern.
  
• January 2007 - I let Barbara know that I have succeeded in making the oilcloth apron and she helps me get this thing called a "blog" set up so I can sell them. I quickly come up with the name "Smockity Frocks" based on one of my favorite hobbies, smocking.  Barbara graciously kicks off my very first day online with an announcement on her blog.
  
• Later that same month, I won Barbara's apron photo contest by popular vote!
• I decide I like blogging and proceed to post all manner of riveting material, like this stellar photo essay and this lengthy treatise on how we pronounce Arnold Palmer's name.

So, there you have it. That's how a little thing called Smockity Frocks was born.

Some days I don't know if I have any thoughts left inside this ol' noggin that I haven't already typed out, but then genius strikes and I come up with a brilliant composition on how binding undergarments can be a treacherous thing and I find inspiration once again to keep my readership informed.

It's just my little gift to you, my dear readers. Keeping you safe from the dangers of latex is the least I can do.

What about you? When and how did you start blogging? If you aren't a blogger, when and how did you start reading Smockity Frocks?

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Christmas Card Time!

Have you ever been under the intense pressure had the pleasure of creating the perfect Christmas card photo with seven rowdy children?  No? Well, me neither. Nope. Not me. No way.

And I would certainly never be heard saying the following.

"Okay, Madison, you hold the baby in the back so no one will notice she's in her pajamas. Her nose is wiped, right? Good!  Children, let's get the goofy picture out of the way first, so we don't have any wise guys messing up a perfectly good shot. Go ahead and make your goofiest face for this one picture."

"Great! Now that you have that out of your systems, let's make this one a winner!"

"Hardy har-har. Very funny. I really mean it this time. No kidding. A serious Christmas card picture now. Ready?"

"Hello? Yes, you. In the back.  May I have your cooperation please? Try to act normal."

"Hmmm... Looks good, except that the baby has her 'How did I get involved with this family again?' look.  Let's try one more."

"Excellent! An ambivalent baby and a smirking 3 year old. It's a winner!"
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This post is linked to the following blogs:

• Real Family Photos at The Happy Housewife, which just happens to be a ROCKIN' site written by a super cool lady.

• Not Me Monday, which was created by MckMama. You can head over there to read what she and everyone else have not been doing this week.

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Updog?

This is a repost. Have you voted for Smockity in the Homeschool Blog Awards?

My husband played this joke on me a while back, and it still cracks me up to think about it.

One evening after the kids were in bed, I was telling him some very detailed account of something that had happened that day (which I am SURE he was completely mesmerized by). The conversation went something like this:

Me: Blah blah blah. Blah didah dah. So what do you think
I should do about it?

Him: (thoughtfully) Hmmmm..... sounds like a case of updog to me.

Me: Huh???????

Him: Yep, I'm sure of it. Sounds like updog.

Me: What's "updog"?

Him: Not much. What's up with you, DAWG!!!!

OK, I know I'm in my forties, and I should be way more mature than this, but I laughed my head off. Then, we did it to our kids the next day. Great fun!

The trick is waiting for the perfect opportunity to get the other person to ask, "What's updog?"

Want more funny?  Try these.

• How Not to Dress For a Wedding Three Weeks Postpartum 
• A Snapshot of My Life
• When Silly Putty Attacks
  

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[Don't] Do It Yourself Plumbing

Imagine a photo here of water squirting out of one end of a bathtub and shooting, fire hydrant strength, the opposite wall with a force that would power scrub rust off a bumper.

We awoke yesterday to the sound of water running in a steady stream out of the bathtub faucet. The faucet was turned off, but the water still ran.

So, naturally I decided in Super Mom fashion that it would be no problem to fix. With a screw driver, a pair of pliers, and a smidge TOO much confidence, I set to work.

The one tool I forgot was any knowledge whatsoever of plumbling, and that became crystal clear when I loosened the last screw and the entire faucet flew off the wall similar to the way a cannon ball suddenly exits its dark, quiet tunnel of steel.

It was then that I noticed the water was piping hot and the entire bathroom began to fog over.

Do these things happen to ordinary people? It seems to me I only see this sort of thing happen to Balki and Cousin Larry or on reruns of Laverne and Shirley.

Or in Smockityville.

At this point I concluded that calling a plumber would be the wisest course of action.

So of course, I dialed my husband at work and said something along the lines of, "Water! Lots of WATER! Shooting out of the wall!" He had a hard time understanding me because a) the WATER! was noisy and b) I may have been hysterical.

He quickly called for a plumber and a little while later and very many gallons of hot water down the drain, our problem was remedied.

The moral of this little tale is sometimes a professional is required to do the job. You'll recognize these times by the fogged up bathroom, the hot water shooting out of the wall, and the frantic phone calls.


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12 Year Old Boy Busted For Baby Grafitti

**Don't forget to vote for Smockity for Funniest Homeschool Blogger.

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You know what's a downer when you're a 12 year old boy and your baby sister begins to speak in complete sentences?

She turns informant.

This is what I found when I went to dress the baby.

Her explanation? "Jackson color me, Mommy."

That boy is so busted!  (Nice tulip, though. Don't you think?)

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Let Kids Dress Themselves

I've been nominated for Funniest Homeschool Blogger. Vote for Smockity!


My husband is a compulsive channel flipper, so the other day I saw about 3.7 minutes of the show Super Nanny.

Have y'all seen it?

Whoa. Talk about children who need some disciplinary measures!

In the particular episode I saw a snatch of, the mother was a perfectionist and would not allow her children to dress themselves. Ever.

The Super Nanny's suggestion was that the children were misbehaving in order to maintain some level of control in their own lives.

I don't know whether her idea is right or not, but I do know that, whenever possible, I like to let my children dress themselves for several reasons.

1. Saves time on my part.
2. Child practices life skills.
3. Gives the child confidence in decision making.
   
4. Makes the child happy.
5. Which makes me happy.

And when I say "whenever possible" I mostly mean when we will be spending the day at home because then I won't have any strange looks to pretend I don't see.

Today provided an opportunity to do just that and this is what my three year old came up with, completely on her own.

**"Color bookin'" is a term I was introduced to my seventh grade year. I was accused of it when I allegedly wore a mismatched outfit to school. A dear, sweet peer who was concerned with my shaky social status informed me, "GIRL! You be color bookin'!"

It's one of those terms that you can't lay your finger on, but you know it when you see it.

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Vote For Smockity!

I have been nominated for Funniest Homeschool Blog and I would be tickled pink if y'all would vote for me.

I normally don't think anyone should be judged by their fashion choices or the taste of their chicken spaghetti, but there are prizes involved, so I am all over this like white on rice!

Go! Fight! Win! Vote for Smockity!

I told MaddieLynn this morning that some lady name Pioneer Something Or Another was also in the running and her immediate reaction was, "Oh no!"

Never fear though, my nine year old said, "You'll for sure beat her, Mommy!"

That's the kind of confidence I like.

Blind, irrational confidence.

Now, head on over to the Homeschool Blog Awards and vote for all your favorites.


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Which is Why I Don't Listen to the Radio

Here is a conversation that took place in the van the other day as we were on our way hither and yon. Please, do keep in mind that there was absolutely nothing unusual about this exchange.

14 year old: (while looking at a library book) "Wow! I just found the dimensions for the Statue of Liberty. These are incredible!"

8 year old: "What are dimensions?"

3 year old: "Do chickens get chicken pops?"

5 year old: "Are we going to church tonight?"

Baby: "Deesus wufs me..."

Me: "No"

5 year old: "WE AREN'T GOING TO CHURCH?! WHY NOT?!"

14 year old: "The tablet she holds is 24 inches thick. 24 inches!"

Baby: "dis I know..."

Me: "Yes, we are going to church. No chickens don't get chicken POX."

14 year old: "And the index finger is over 7 ft."

8 year old: "What are dimensions?"

Baby: "Deesus wufs me..."

Me: "Dimensions are..."

9 year old: "MOMMYYYYYY! He is kicking the back of my seat!"

Boy: "No I'm not. I'm nudging it."

Baby: "dis I know..."

Me: "No kicking or nudging!"

8 year old: "What are dimensions?"

5 year old: "I knew we were going to church because we always go on church night. Right Mommy? Right? Mommy? Don't we? Right Mommy?"

Me: "Dimensions are..."

3 year old:  "Then why are they called 'chicken pops'? Did chickens invents them?"

14 year old:  "Here is a quiz. 'In which hand does she hold the tablet?' Who would not know that?!"

Me: Pulls van over and runs wildly through a field and into the woods never to return while screaming, "Dimensions are measurements!  MEASUREMENTS!!!"

Police: "Ma'am, you're going to have to come with us."

Okay, I made up those last two little bits, but I think you get the idea.


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Guest Posting at Life in a Shoe

I have a guest post up at Life in a Shoe.

Head on over there to find out I'm even weirder than you thought.


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An Anatomy Lesson

The Smockity Bunch went to the library today and everyone was able to check out bunches of books before I dropped a couple of them off at piano lessons.

While we waited, everyone perused the books, and Piccolina browsed a book checked out by The Bubba, Ripley's Believe It or Not. As she turned the pages, she announced whether she believed each outrageous photo or not.

Mostly not.

When she came to a photo like this, though, she proudly proclaimed that she indeed believed it and, in fact, she knew how this feat was accomplished.

(Image from SwordSwallow.com)

"Really?" I said, "How?"

"He can do it and other people can't because he was born without a gag bag," she proudly informed all of us.

"Uh... what's a... gag bag?" I asked.

"That thing that hangs down in the back of your throat," she said, trying very hard not to make the rest of us feel dumb.

So, there you have it, dear readers.  That thing you always thought was called a uvula is actually more appropriately called a gag bag by knowledgeable eight year olds.

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25th High School Reunion

I was excited to be able to go to my 25th high school reunion with my husband recently.

The main reason for my excitement was anticipating seeing my best friend from high school that I hadn't seen since my wedding day 24 years ago!

She is as beautiful and sweet today as she was then, and I so enjoyed getting to visit with her again!  I even forgave her for beating me in the race for the only vacant student council position in 10th grade. And for being drop dead gorgeous while standing next to me in photos.

I only wish I could have heard more than 3/4 of the things she said, because the music the kids listen to these days is so LOUD!  I might have found it more tolerable if the play list would have included Journey or Joan Jett or Rick Springfield or Michael Jackson before his second and subsequent plastic surgeries, but alas, no such luck. Random samplings of Garth Brooks and other young whippersnappers the kids dig was the order of the day.  I found myself shouting to be heard and nodding with a smile on my face while hoping I could decipher what people were saying.

I think that means I am officially OLD.  Well that, plus the tennis balls on my walker needing to be replaced are pointing in that direction.

Our babysitter, AKA oldest daughter, called twice to see when we were coming home, so we left early and I can't be sure because of the ringing, but I think I heard my eardrums sing the Hallelujah chorus. 

When we got to the parking lot and my husband tried to start the truck, the engine light came on.  We both held our breath and looked at each other in a panic. You see, when this happens at home, my husband has to call for the pliers. He lifts the hood and clinks, clanks, clunks around until it starts. This is the same truck that the driver has to crank the window down to reach to the outside of the truck to open the door so he can get out.

Fortunately, the engine light flickered and went off.  And we breathed again.  'Cause is there anything classier'n asking the people at your 25th high school reunion if anyone has a pair of pliers you could borrow to start your 1994 pick up truck?

We laughed as we drove away and decided we were rich beyond measure.  Pick up and all.

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Diaper Changing Tips

Recently, I have been thinking to myself, "Smockity, what do you have of value to offer your readers, your peeps?"  and after a lengthy period of saying, partially out loud, "Uuuuuuuuummmmmmmmmmmmmm..." you will be happy to know that I came up with something!

I concluded that I have been changing diapers, pretty much non stop, for almost 15 years! During that time, I have refined and streamlined my diaper changing techniques, and I have come to think of it not so much as a chore (most days), but as a way to show love to my baby.

Here is a little video demonstration of my diaper changing tips.  (This was the second take because the first one had babies crying, dogs barking, the doorbell ringing, and an 8 year old peering creepily from behind the shower curtain, and I only wish I were making that up.)

Bonus points to the first person who can identify the song!




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