I get serious about how short life truly is. Click HERE.
New Contest!
I am SO excited about this blog giveaway! One of my mother’s VERY talented cousins has the cutest Etsy shop I have ever seen, and she has agreed to give any one item from her site to our blog winner. She has handmade football themed outfits for boys and girls and tons of cute monogrammed dresses and appliqued t-shirts.
All you have to do is leave comments on blog posts for the next two weeks, share links to Robin’s Chicks on Facebook, your blog or twitter. You get a chance to win for every comment, or link, and you MUST be a blog follower to win! (Only ONE comment per post will count, if you post a link tag me or let me know.)
Check out her Etsy shop, Bebe Beth Orignals.
Contest ends August 24th!
My Peeps: Lori Wescott
This is one of the funniest things I’ve ever read, one of my besties breaks into country music with a song about a trip to the Gyno. Click HERE to read the article, read her Super (Silly) Mom interview HERE, or read her blog, Loripalooza. Follow her on twitter @loriwescott
Aubrey Said: Justin Beiber
I was driving in the car with Aubrey(6) and Emma(4) listening to the radio. I have no idea what song was playing because we have one radio station where I come from, but it was most definitely a woman singing.
This was the conversation in the backseat.
Emma: Dis is a gull singin’.
Aubrey: No it’s not! It’s a boy!
Emma: Uh-uh. It’s a gull!
Aubrey: Momma is this a girl or a boy?
Me: Sounds like a girl to me…
Aubrey: Well! Justin Beaver sounds like a girl.
*crickets chirping*
Emma Said: Chicken
I took Aubrey and Emma swimming this afternoon. After 4+ hours at the pool, they were exhausted and starving. I had to stop by the grocery store on the way home to pick up a rotisserie chicken. While we were standing at the deli, Emma asked, “Momma can I hab some chicken wit some bones in it?” (Translation: chicken wings.)
I got her a bag of wings and plopped her in the buggy so she could eat her snack. She had eaten two wings and was about to bite into her third when she looked up at me and said, “Did dey kill dis chicken or not?”
“Oh, they definitely killed it. ” I answered her.
“How?”
“I don’t think you want to know.” I said as I pushed the buggy along.
“Oh, I fink I do.”
She ain’t hearing it from me.
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