My flowers that is. Well. My children too, but mainly my flowers. I have shared (here) with you all before about my love of a pretty yard and how I wish I had such a yard. Reality being that I kill everything and can't even grow weeds. I'm hoping this year is the year it will happen. Papa Brad helped me kick start my flower beds this year. He got everything in good shape, planted some new shrubs and cleaned up the front. All I had to do was pick out some colorful flowers and plant in the flower beds and fill my pots up. I can handle that. Sunday Mr. Mayer and I went and loaded up on flowers and a few items for my little vegetable garden in the back. I spent the majority of the day planting my new treasures and marveling at how pretty everything looked. *Sigh* The Dudes were fascinated in what I was doing. I would plant a flower and Owen would pull it up. All. Day. Long. I mean really. If these flowers survive my kids it's going to be a miracle. Then they have to live through me which is nearly impossible. I killed mint last year. Who can kill mint?! So, my flowers are beautiful and everything looks so pretty~today. I didn't want to let the Dudes outside to play this afternoon because I knew what would happen to my flowers. But, I let them out anyway. Then Owen went up to his favorite pot and proceeded to pull up the flowers before I could run over to him. Grrr.....I scolded him and replanted it. He didn't mess with it the rest of the day. Maybe. Just maybe there might be a glimmer of hope. I don't want to get ahead of myself though.
You would think I would be referring to myself or Mr. Mayer. But, no. I'm talking about the precocious little girl that lives in this house. "I cleaned my room damn good." Wait. What? That was the sentence Diva told me a few weeks ago when I asked her if she had cleaned her room. I was in shock. Mr. Mayer was stifling a laugh. Diva was dead serious. A few days after that she came downstairs and told me to "Tell those damn boys to leave my damn toys alone." Apparently her brother's were messing with her Barbies. We have also had the occasional "damn it" when she drops something or spills something. It was super embarrassing when we were at Target and she dropped a toy in the toy department and said "damn it." Thankfully there was no one around to hear her. Diva's um...creative (?) vocabulary started as soon as she started speaking. She has always used big words, whether she knew what they meant or not. Mr. Mayer and I are totally ...
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