Life Happens and so does $%&*

I've realized a few things living in Florida:

Race doesn't matter. I'd say half of the couples around here are different races or nationalities. I'm certainly not trying to be mean here, but you can't tell what race many of the children are b/c of that. No one bats an eye at interracial marriages, relationships or families. I LOVE that about Florida, and I guess that's what makes my kids with their light blond ringlets and blue eyes so famous.

It's hot here. All you Atlanta peeps are complaining about your 92 degree weather while I am suffering some serious temperature shock here. At 11:30, it was 100 degrees, and that wasn't even during the heat of the day. I swear it would have been 110 here during the hot part of the day if a thunderstorm hadn't come to cool us off! I'm gonna die here. Fortunately, our house retains the cool air nicely so I'm cozy inside - which is where I stay until at least 6pm.

Andrew embarrasses me or makes me laugh on a regular basis. All these quotes are from today alone:

1. He told the doctor "why is there a bug on your face?" and it was clearly just a mole. The doc said his daughter says the same thing - thank you for the out of embarrassment, doc!

2. Mom, why is there so much extruction paper here. Translation - they are doing lots of "road construction" everywhere around here.

3. Andrew asked, "can we got eat at John Young papa cow for lunch?" Translation - Can we go eat at Pollo Tropical on John Young Pkwy. That one used all my mad deciphering skills.

4. And this is the one I was most concerned about: "I'm gonna play chunky monkey with the torpedos in my mouth." Last time he played "chubby bunny" we were having 1st time guests over to a dinner party, and he barfed all over the driveway after eating only 2 marshmallows. Somehow despite that experience, we are now BFF's with that family.

And Finally, for those wondering about the title of this blog post, Lizzy pooped in her cloth swimy at the pool Monday. Mat nearly vomited as he made the discovery and the mad dash for the bathroom (as I was running for the hills and trying not to pee my pants laughing in the process). You should have heard the gagging coming from the men's bathroom. I dodged a bullet with that one! Not that I would have handled the situation the same way...I would have peeked for poopies before removing the swimy in the first place. He recognizes his flaw, and for some reason, Mat now insists on using the throw away swimmies.

And that's pretty much a normal day around my house. Gotta love kids and weak stomached adults.