Robin's Chicks

Nudge The Nest & Pray They Fly

The Moultrie News

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Click HERE to read this week’s article in The Moultrie News. (Even God is laughing at me and my kids.)

No Pics of Sadie

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My sister-wife, Lizzie, and I hung all my pictures in the new house today. (RELAX, I’m not a polygamist, but it is definitely the best way to describe our relationship.) I realized while hanging all my pictures that I didn’t have one single picture of Baby Sadie in my den. (I do have ONE in the house, but that sounds even more pathetic and sad.)

So tonight, while Hubs took Aubrey on a dinner date (to Taco Bell, and yes, I was jealous) I decided to upload and order some pictures so that Sadie could be fairly represented in our family photographs. It only took about ten minutes, before I realized why I haven’t had time to order any pictures in the last year…and it starts with an “E.”

Aubrey’s Antics: The Boy Next Door

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We all know Aubrey thinks The Boy Next Door is a cutie-patootie, because he IS. This afternoon he and his little sister came over to play outside with us for a little while and there was so much flirting going on I could hardly keep a straight face.

The Boy Next Door climbed on top of our play set and jumped to the ground, provoking many Ooos and Ahhhs from my girls. After jumping from the unseemly height of 36 inches lost its shock factor, The Boy Next Door went to get his bicycle so he could show us his crazy bike skillz.
But once again, after the initial Ooohs and Ahhhs, the girls lost interest and began playing among themselves again. So, The Boy Next Door went totally primal and started talking about killing stuff.
TBND: I killed two ducks today. And one time I (warning, this is a bit graphic) ripped the heads off of 5 ducks with my bare hands. I had fur and blood all over my hands.

It worked.

Aubrey turned around in awe and asked, “How OLD are you?”

TBND: I’m six, and I do dangerous stuff.

Emma’s Antics: Scissors

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Yeah, that’s right, I said “scissors.”

You’re nervous aren’t you?

You should be.

Emma started going to preschool here in Mississippi a couple of weeks ago. Her very first day of school she got in the car and said, “Momma, dey hab sizzors eby-way-are!”

Not, “Mommy, I made you a picture!” or “My teacher is so nice!” or “That boy was mean to me.” No-sir-ee.

They had scissors and she was allowed to touch them. Not only was she allowed to touch them but she was encouraged to play with them…to cut Play-Doh with them. It was the single most amazing experience of her life and she was beyond excited.

My friend Lizzie picked Emma up from school today, because Emma is totally in love with her and begged me not to come pick her up but to “Call Miz Wizzie and tell huh ‘you go get Emma in da stwoller,’ Mmm-kay, Momma?”

When Lizzie walked in my house and announced that Emma had “an accident” with her scissors, I assumed we were going to be sporting a crew cut for the next few months. But no, she attacked her dress instead…