My Life in iPhone Pics

Found him like this in the office.  Part of me was proud.  The other part of me was disturbed that he thought he'd be there long enough to need somewhere to rest his legs.

"Mama, look at my couch."  

Friendly faceoff.

One of the famous Standley/Lee sleepovers.  Don't be fooled by the appearance of calm children.  It is an act.

Angry Indian.

Happy Indian.

Frontiersman.  With their trusted pup.

Cannon, the dog whisperer.  Sayler fell into a trance in his lap.  I'm hoping he can use his powers on Will as needed.

This is what happens when I leave Jody in charge.  Sam and Cannon wrestling.

Up next: Cade and Sam.

Pay no attention to the cheering redneck in the corner.  He is "coaching."

Cade broke out his secret weapon...the chicken wing.

Ok, this is becoming a little much. This is where I begin yelling for them to stop immediately.

They didn't listen.  Imagine that.

Wrestlemania in the playroom.  Snow White in the bunk beds.  There's something for everybody here.

On a side note, shortly after taking this picture, Landry taught a class on Back Scratching 101.  Yes, there's a right and a wrong way to do it.  She instructed me on her preferred scratching speed, grabbed my hand and showed me the proper way to bend my fingers and explained to me how I'd know when she was really asleep and when I was allowed to stop.  An hour later, she was finally asleep and I was quite certain I'd never be able to use my right hand again.  She told me her Mama scratches her back every night.  Allyson, I have three words for you.  Carpal Tunnel Syndrome.  Take my advice, buy one of those wooden back scratchers for your nightly duty.  You'll thank me later.

Why I never answer the phone...

Exhibit A: Both phones were missing for over 24 hours.  I found them buried under pants in Jack's drawer.  Which was, I should add, the only place I didn't look.

My workout routine.  Drag a forty pound child who refuses to let go of your leg through the house.  Unfortunately I only feel the burn on one side of my body.

I saved the best for last...

While shopping at Walmart, nothing says I belong here more than noticing a large wod of gum in your baby's hair twenty minutes into your trip.  And I thought those people staring at me were admiring my handsome boy.  Um, no. It was my first gum in the hair incident.  After three boys.  A first.  Maybe if it had happened with Sam or even Jack, I'd have handled it differently.  I'm sure I'd have spent hours holding ice on it, refusing to cut that sweet hair without a fight.  But this was my third child.  I don't have time for all that.  I'm just trying to survive, folks.  I pushed my cart straight over to the office supplies, found a pair of scissors, removed them from the package and cut the hunk of gum out of his hair.  I assessed the damage, fluffed his hair to hide the gap I'd just created, stuffed the hair/gum mess in a wipe and dropped it in my purse and tossed the scissors in my cart. (Because even though I could have slid them back in the package and returned them to the shelf, I felt buying them was the right thing to do.  And, maybe, I needed a new pair anyway.)   I turned my cart around and headed to the milk aisle.  Without missing a beat.  That's what having three boys will do for you.  You become a master at rolling with it.  I'm a grand champion.