Feeding: Wives (and kids) who were so generous as to lend their husbands to the hard work of tearing out concrete from our backyard.
Paying: Some dude to complete the above activity with the help of a Bobcat.
Watching: Our yard, not to mention the concrete, get torn to shreds.
Sleeping: Away a large chunk of Saturday in order to heal from strep.
Baking: Yummy chunky brownies from a box.
Glowing: In the light from a firepit at a final fun night with our friends who are moving this Friday.
Feeling: Very sad about the moving of the good friends.
Enjoying: Livia’s first times attending Sunday School and Children’s Church with big kids.
Wishing: All the best to Bethany as she prepares to marry Andrew H.
Tearing Up: At the sweet memories and prayers at Bethany’s bridal shower.
Plucking: Concrete chunks from our sidewalk-less, parking spot-less backyard.
Planting: Pots on our front porch with coleus, some kind of impatiens and some cute little blue flowers whose name I can’t recall.
Watching: 24! while…
Drinking: A Mike’s.

Ingredients

• 1 egg
• 1/6 c vegetable oil
• 1/2 tsp EACH oregano, garlic powder, dry mustard, salt and pepper
• 1 loaf bread dough
• 4 oz pepperoni
• 1/2 lb Italian sausage
• 1/2 c cheddar cheese
• 1 c mozzarella cheese

Directions

1. Preparation: Place beaten egg, oil and all spices in a bag. Put the meat and cheese in a bag and keep the dough separate. Freeze.
2. Thaw. Roll out the dough, spread the oil spices on top, then add meats and cheeses. Roll like a log, seal the ends and sides. Bake 350 for 30 min.

**I’ve written this up as a freezer meal (because that’s how we do it), but you can alter the preparations for a fresh meal as well. I spray my baking pan with Pam and then also spray the top of the bread dough before baking. A friend of mine butters the top and adds parmesan cheese. This recipe is versatile and can be doctored up according to your tastes. Add green peppers, mushrooms, onions, black olives, etc for more flavor.

I have strep. Again.

Argh!

This stupid bacteria is not only making me a tired, sick woman, but it’s also costing us a bit of cash. There are the $10 copays for doctors’ visits (five times total now for the Tredways), the $10-$25 copays for antibiotics, replacement costs for toothbrushes and toothpaste, and, this is the one that really gets to me, replacement costs for my beloved Burt’s Bees chapsticks. I hoard that stuff like nobody’s business and I *just* purchased two new tubes — and used both because one has papaya in it and is a pink color and I’m the kind of girl who likes tinted chapstick.

So on one hand is the hard cash issue, on the other is the friend issue. Some dear friends of ours are moving in about nine days and it would be so great if I could help watch their kids this week while they prepare to leave Nebraska. Another family is moving across town as I write this post, and again, it would be such a blessing to them if I could watch their kids. Then again, I’ve never known a virus to ask permission regarding the timing of affliction. So why not this week?

The good news? Liv is strep-free. And as vivacious as ever. At least I have entertainment in the midst of feeling like crud.

You just never know who or what may be roaming the city streets of Lincoln, Nebraska. Photo taken from inside our garage last Saturday.

I love bubbles.

But I don’t love the mess that bubbles make.

I’ve recently discovered there are some moms out there who are fastidiously neat. As in, they are so tidy that they keep their children from any potentially messy situation. I’m not like that. If you looked around my house you’d know this due to innumerable dust bunnies, dirty/clean piles of merging laundry and overflowing bathroom trash. I don’t mind it when Liv tattoos herself with markers and it doesn’t bug me when she is covered in dirt from the garden. But a sticky bubble mess totally gets my goat.

So really, I wasn’t all that upset when two three year olds and one four year old dumped out ALL our bubbles on the front porch last Thursday. Because now when I’m asked to blow bubbles, I can just say, “No. We don’t have any.”

What a mean mom.

It’s a rare occasion where I say, Go read this! and send you to a friend’s blog. I figure I have a decent-sized list off to the right that anyone can access. But I think the quotes Jason posted today merit a Go read this! kind of remark.

The Wilhite and Meilaender quotations really touched me.

I sent a musical birthday card to Charity and Andy recently (“We’re 29” says Charity when asked how old *she* is; cracks me up even though I know she and Andy have back-to-back birthdays) that played the song Word Up. And I can’t help but think of the lyrics as I look at this photo of Livia and her friends…

Wave your hands in the air
Like you don’t care, glide by
The People as they start to look and stare.
Do you dance, do your dance quick
Mama, come on baby, tell me what’s
The Word, ah – word up.

Happy birthday to our big (little) girl!

Right now Liv’s napping, all tuckered out from playing with four other little girls. We’ve eaten chocolate cake and yellow cake, buckets of penne pasta and slices of pepperoni pizza. We’ve licked our fair share of Dum Dums and popped a good number of balloons (both on accident and on purpose). We’ve hugged friends and family and thanked them for partying with us. And now, a normal nap in the midst of a special day.

“I three now! I a big girl,” Liv tells me.

Yes, I tell her, but you’ll always be my baby.

Happy birthday, sweet girl!

These women have great giveaways on their site. So go check it out! (Thanks to Megan for always updating me on the contests. I never know what’s up until I stop by Half Pint House.)