Demolition Girl

Published
by
Kelli
on May 5, 2008
in Uncategorized
. 5 Comments

I had a wonderful weekend at our church’s women’s retreat! I had done a lot of work to organize all of the registration for the weekend (not to mention having a busy week at work and only sleeping two hours the night before I went) so when I got home on Saturday afternoon I was pretty tired. I was however, met with a slap right back into reality of course when I arrived home. I had been getting phone calls frequently over the 22 hours that I was away letting me know that Parker was not feeling well, had thrown up and his throat was hurting. So, upon my arrival home I loaded the boys up and headed to the urgent care center. Luckily, pigs were flying that day, and when we got there not one person was in the waiting room. We were in and out within 30 minutes. Those of you who are parents and have frequented the urgent care like we have know that this is unheard of. Parker had strep throat so we got his medicine and went home.

After a tiring day I got the kids in bed and was ready to relax. Well, not really. I kept having visions of re-doing our living room and they wouldn’t go away. We’ve been planning to make some changes in there ever since we bought the house but we just haven’t had the time or money (or the time and money at the same time). One vision led to another and the next thing you know Bill finds me at 8:45pm with a hammer and a screw driver removing tiles from our fireplace.

30 minutes later I had removed the sheetrock too!

Pretty soon Bill couldn’t stand it and he joined in on my destruction. Well, we were now committed since we had ripped down half the wall. We worked until about 11pm to remove sheetrock and uncover a brick fireplace and finally we went to bed. I couldn’t go to church on Sunday since Parker had strep throat so instead I went to Home Depot and rented an electric chipping hammer. That’s a mini-jack hammer ladies! Now, I do like to think of myself as Zena the warrior princess (mainly the princess part) but I was too scared to use it myself. I had it ready for Bill when he got home from church. Two hours later our brick hearth was no more.

It’s gotten a little crazy and now we have no carpet, ten different paint samples on the walls, and a new fireplace design in progress.

And yes, we are trying to do this work ourselves (someone must have put some crack in my diet coke) Parker keeps saying, “Mommy, quit destroying our new house, you’re going to make Daddy mad.” Eventually, it’s going to look really cool. We have to hurry though because my cleaning ladies come next Wednesday! So, if anyone is looking to practice their carpentry skills or you just feel sorry for my husband come on over and join the fun.

I’ll post pictures when we finally finish!

A Tribute to My Dad, Tommy Kidd

Published
by
Kelli
on May 1, 2008
in Uncategorized
. 4 Comments

One year ago today, May 1, 2007, my life forever changed. I woke up thinking it was going to be a normal day. It was 7:15am and I was making my bed (which is odd because no one was coming over) when my phone rang. I answered the phone and it was my Mom. I figured she was calling me as she was on her way to work which she normally would do. My mother, who never freaks out and always remains calm in every situation, said with panic in her voice, “Kelli, you need to come to the hospital now, they are trying to revive Daddy.” My heart stopped and I let out a shrill scream. Bill came running in and took the phone from me. I knew he was gone. I hadn’t been told that yet but I knew in my heart he was. I was panicking trying to get clothes on the kids so we could take them to a friend’s house. We picked up my sister who lived down the street at the time and rushed to drop the kids off and get to the hospital. It was the middle of morning rush hour so it took us over an hour and a half to get there. I kept calling my Mom as we were in traffic and she just kept saying “they’re still working on him, this isn’t good, this isn’t good.” I knew she was trying to wait until we got to the hospital to tell us but I finally had to ask the hardest question, “is Daddy gone?” She broke down and said yes. Thankfully, my Mom was surrounded by the doctors that she works for and my aunts, uncles and cousins as we were trying desperately to get there. We were all in shock. My very healthy 65 year old Dad had been fine one minute and he was all of the sudden gone? It was too much for my heart to bear. It was ripped into 5 million pieces.

Some people wonder why we would be so sad since we know he is in Heaven. My Dad was an amazing Christian man and we have no doubt that he is sitting at His father’s feet worshiping. We are sad, I guess in a selfish way, because of the enjoyment, encouragement, wisdom, fun and love he shared with us on earth that we can no longer experience. I don’t want to memorialize what happened on May 1st, although I think it is therapeutic for me to share. I want you to know who my Dad was and how special he was to so many people.

My Dad was always there for me and our family. Many people say that about their parents but he really was. My entire childhood he would take me, my sister and my Mom anywhere we would want to go. . . shopping, sight-seeing, to the symphony, on vacation, out to eat and the list goes on. He was at any and every activity I was ever a part of cheering me on. He always told me I was beautiful and loved (even when I was really ugly). But, above all of these things, he tried so hard every day to be a Godly husband and father. He knew what the scriptures said because he studied them every day. He wanted so much to be like Jesus. He was not perfect, but none of us are. If he made a mistake he was humble enough to come ask for our forgiveness. He was always, always praying for us. He was such an example to me and so many other people. He was bold and would talk about Jesus to anyone. But he did it in such a way that was never offensive. I could go on and on about my Dad. I am more than blessed to have had him for 29 years. I know some people only wish their father would care about them. I know when he arrived in Heaven he was welcomed with open arms and Jesus said, “Well done.” I will forever have a hole in my heart until I see my Dad again in Heaven some day. We miss him more than words can express. Please remember my Mom and our family in your prayers today.

I promise I will try and go back to being light-hearted next time, but I had to share my Dad with you today. Below is a poem I found a few months after my Dad passed away that I have framed in my house with his picture.

The Broken Chain

We little knew that morning that God was going to call your name.

In life we loved you dearly, in death we do the same.

It broke our hearts to lose you, you did not go alone;

for part of us went with you the day God called you home.

You left us peaceful memories, your love is still our guide,

and though we cannot see you, you are always by our side.

Our family chain is broken and nothing seems the same,

but as God calls us one by one, the chain will link again.

Bill and the iPhone Camera

Published
by
Kelli
on April 30, 2008
in Uncategorized
. 1 Comment

My sweet husband who I lovingly refer to as Billy, Eddie, Edwin, Big Daddy, Big Dog, etc. (I really like re-naming people I like. . . as a side note. . . most of you have another name I call you that you don’t know about . . . don’t worry, most of them are nice :) ) has a deep passionate love for his iPhone. There’s about a 98.7% chance that when you see him he’ll be holding it in the palm of his hand doing something on it. This includes while he is walking in a crowd, driving, working, listening to a sermon, sleeping and showering (just kidding). I’ve tried taking it from him but the results (twitching, shaking, crying) were too scary so I gave it back. He does a lot of random things on it and I must say it is a really cool device. However, over the past few weeks I have felt like I am living with the paparazzi. Billy is frequently using the camera on his iphone to take photos of me. It seems that every time I turn around I’m hearing that fake camera shutter sound and he has just taken another random picture of me doing something weird. On numerous occasions we have been in the middle of a restaurant and I look up and he is holding his phone in the air smiling and has just taken a picture of me, chewing, wiping my mouth, picking my teeth, etc. Now, he does use it to capture normal picture moments (i.e. our adorable children) but it’s the other pictures he is taking that I find a bit strange. Here are a few examples.

Do we really need a picture of me wiping Griffin’s nose?

What kind of face am I making and why do we need a picture of me looking at my camera?

I know that some girls might ask someone to take a picture of the back of their head maybe so they can see what their hair looks like. . . me, not so much. I’m not really sure why Big Daddy needs a picture of the back of my head either. What does this say about my face?

Now this one is so paparazzi. It’s like I’m Angelina Jolie and he just captured a shot of me walking down the street with one of my 16 children I’ve adopted.

There are quite a few others but I don’t want to bore you with really random pictures of myself. I couldn’t figure out why Eddie keeps shoving the camera in my face and taking pictures of me as I throw my hand up and say leave me alone. Maybe, just maybe, he thinks I am going to be famous someday and he is just trying to prepare me for the real paparazzi. Whatever the case, if you see us in public and he is holding the phone in the air, well, I’ll forgive you if you pretend you don’t know us.

My need for speed (and a tightly woven plan)

Published
by
Kelli
on April 29, 2008
in Uncategorized
. 1 Comment

I’ve recently realized how much of a “planner” I am. I’m kind of a weird “planner” because I don’t apply it to all areas of my life. But, when it comes to road trips and schedules I am the ultimate planner. That’s probably a very positive way to describe it. Some, who shall remain nameless (tall bald guy with a gotee that lives with me), would probably call it more of a “Nazi” planner (I hope that isn’t politically incorrect, oh well, I’m not very political anyway).

A few weeks ago we took a road trip to San Antonio. I had predetermined that we needed to leave our house at exactly 10:50 am so that we could pick up Parker from school and be on the road by approximately 11:10am. I usually get a little edgy when we are trying to get out the door because it seems that someone is always trying to throw off my schedule (and it’s not the kids). We made it out the door by 11:00am so we were only 10 minutes behind. I figured we could make up some time somewhere along the way. We finally got on the road after picking up Parker and I felt I could finally relax, sort of.

Once we were on the freeway I immediately started calculating what cities we should pass through at certain times according to how many miles away they are and the rate of speed we are traveling. I have issues. I do this even when I try not to and it’s like a mini-plan forming in my head. I can’t stop! Well, we’ve been on the road for about an hour when Bill tells me he thinks he’s going to stop in Hillsboro and use the bathroom. I quickly told him, “I don’t think so buddy. I’ve had to go to the bathroom since we left and I’m holding it till Waco. Toughen up big guy.” What is wrong with me? Have I turned into a man after living with all of these boys? He asked me the exact same question. I wanted to let him stop because I felt slightly sorry for him but it would ruin the plan and I couldn’t let that happen. So my precious husband drove on in pain until we got to Waco.

We finally made it to San Antonio a little before 5pm. We were just 30 minutes off schedule. I decided to let it go and have fun. Besides, I had a day at Sea World coming up and had to schedule which shows to attend and in which order!

Repeat after me. . . white legs are beautiful!

Published
by
Kelli
on April 27, 2008
in Uncategorized
. 3 Comments

I would like to put a disclaimer on this post: I know that tanning and the color of my skin is a very vain and shallow thing to write about but come on, I know you think about it too!

So, last night I had a brief g-l-a-m-o-r-o-u-s moment (that’s when I really start to think I might be glamorous) and I decided to send my husband to Wal-Mart at 9:45pm to buy some self-tanning wipes. I know the horrors that these products can produce as I have experienced orange streaky legs before, but that didn’t stop me. I was determined to have a beautiful golden tan before midnight. Of course, he gets to Wal-Mart and they don’t have the wipes. . . the product that I had researched that was supposed to give you no streaks. At this point I had already committed to the tanned legs so I told him to get the same brand just in the spray. I knew it was a bad idea but I didn’t care. I knew I could make it work this time, somehow. I shaved my legs and exfoliated so I would have the perfect fair-skin pale stark white legs to work with. I started to spray them myself but I was too nervous so I decided since Bill is good at art maybe he should spray them. He agreed (he really is a great husband. . . he used to dye my hair, paint my toe nails when I was pregnant, he takes me shopping, etc, etc)! He evenly sprayed my legs as best as we could tell. I let them dry and then went to bed. I woke up this morning to streaks!! It was so ugly I had to wear jeans (thank goodness it was cold outside today).

So, I am making a plea to all humanity. Can’t we all just accept that white legs are beautiful? Some of us just can’t get a tan even if we buy it in a bottle! And can all of you olive skin-tone people out there please stay out of the sun? You’re making us look bad. :) So, the next time I come walking by in shorts or a skirt don’t be alarmed, no one is shining a search light, that’s just my legs moving and the light reflecting off of my beautiful white skin.

(This picture doesn’t do the streaks justice)

My Instant-Tan Leg

Here’s the story, of a lovely lady, who was bringing up 3 very lovely boys. . .

Published
by
Kelli
on April 27, 2008
in General
. 0 Comments

Bobby, Peter & Greg

Ok, so I know that’s not exactly how the song goes, but apparently my name is Carol Brady. Let me back up. Several months ago I woke up one morning and my husband, Bill, says “guess what I ordered last night.” This is always a scary thing to hear because he has been known to succumb to the pressures of the late night infomercial. So, I of course said, “what did you order” in a very motherly tone. He responded with “The entire series of The Brady Bunch. . . every episode ever made and even some never seen!” I said “whatever” because I knew he must be kidding. If you know Bill he doesn’t exactly seem like a “Brady Bunch” type of guy so I figured he was just being silly. Well, 10 days later we got a case of dvd’s in the mail covered in lime green shag carpet which held inside the entire series of “The Brady Bunch.” Our boys loved it immediately and within a few episodes had the theme song memorized. They perform free of charge and even harmonize sometimes (ages 2, 4, & 6).

This is why my children are now obsessed with The Brady Bunch. So a few weeks ago they took it to a new level and started calling me Carol and Bill Mike (let’s just pause and think about that one for a second. . . Bill as Mike . . .now that’s funny). They of course are Greg, Peter and Bobby. My Mom has been designated as Alice. I was a little freaked out when I was serving Griffin and Ayden (ages 2 and 4) lunch and they said “Carol, could you please get me some apple juice.” They even pray for each other using their “Brady” names. Sometimes they use nicknames. . . they call Ayden “Pete”. It is kind of cute and a bit strange at the same time, but hey, at least they are very imaginative, right?

Well, I must admit I was a little embarrassed today at church when Peter’s teacher came looking for me after church. She said, “You’re Ayden’s mom, right?” I told her that I was and then she began to tell me how he had her cracking up during class. He told her that his Mom is Carol Brady and that his Dad is Mike Brady. He also said his brothers are Greg and Bobby and that we are about to take a family vacation to Hawaii (Season 4). He also shared that his Grandmother is Alice. His teacher is fairly new to our church so we don’t really know her so she wasn’t sure if he was serious or not at first. I told her about the obsession and ended the conversation by saying something dorky, “Yep, that’s us. . .the Brady’s.” Where did that come from? I mean I could have said “Don’t worry, he’s in therapy and then looked at the boys and told them to get Tiger and get in the station wagon.” At least that would have been funny.

Here We Go!

Published
by
Kelli
on April 27, 2008
in General
. 0 Comments

I have spent many hours reading many, many, many of your blogs. (And let me say, I have some very entertaining friends!) Then, the thought occurred to me yesterday. . . wow, I am really engrossed in all of these people’s lives and feel like we just hung out and they don’t have a clue what is going on over here at the Jones’ house.  So, I am entering the world of blogging today to share with family and friends and the world the crazy little thing we like to call life.  I apologize in advance if I’m not good at it!