The C-word

I should come with a warning label. Caution: Paranoid Spaz! Please do not use the C-word. Just cut out what you need. Thanks.  Seriously. I went to the dermatologist for a new mole on my shin and she immediately said that there is a chance it is melanoma. So she numbed me and began digging, numbed me some more because it was deeper than expected. And I laid there freaking out on the inside imagining my children without a mother. Sweating, y’all. Not cool. Thank the good Lord, the results came back quickly and it is benign. Now maybe I can sleep again.


Tonight Liam was being a punk and not listening. Jared told him not to do something and he did it anyway. So I asked “Liam, why would you disobey Daddy like that? Do you think that makes Daddy happy?”

L- No.

S- Do you think that makes Jesus happy?

L- No.

S- So are you happy with the choices you are making?

L- Yep.

Great. We have failed somewhere, y’all. Sometimes I am not sure what to do with him!

Smarty Pants

We were driving home from the grocery store today after school and Lydia asked me how many hours it would be until we got home. “Less than an hour.” I replied.

L- Then how many minutes?

S- About 4.

L- How many seconds?

S- I don’t know.

A few minutes later.

L- Mom, how many seconds are in a minute?

S- 60.

L- What is 60 + 60?

S- 120

L- What is 120 + 120?

S- 240.

L- So you do know.

S- Know what?

L- How many seconds until we get home. 240 seconds until we get home.

I guess I do, Smarty Pants, I guess I do!