Finding Ninee » Sharing our parenting and special needs stories with heart and humor.

There are a lot of people that I’d like to have dinner with.  They include family, friends, and many of you. Tina Fey, who would make me laugh endlessly, especially if she did dummy Sarah Palin for me.  Ellen.  Jack. Sir Anthony.  Steve Jobs. Martin Luther King. But there is one person that I want […]

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by Kristi Campbell

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  • Betty Taylor - What a beautiful thought! I totally understand how you feel. I was 40 when my youngest son was born. I was afraid I wouldn’t be around when he was grown and older. My parents were older when I was born and my dad died when I was 20 and mom when I was 43. My older children were 22, 20, and 18 when he was born. I have always nurtured his relationships with his older siblings because I worried that when he got a little older he wouldn’t have parents around and I wanted to make sure he has close family. My son is now 18. I don’t worry so much anymore. He is c
    Very close to his siblings. He now has 2 nephews who are 5 and 10. He is really close to them to. He will probably have them around with him longer than any other family because he is closer in age to both of them than any other close family. I guess it’s just one of the things we older parents worry about!June 21, 2013 – 11:33 amReplyCancel

  • Janine Huldie - Seriously, this was one of the nicest posts I read linked up with us today and seriously made me cry, because it was truly so heart warming and sweet. You are really just a wonderful, loving mom (not that I didn’t know this already), but seriously loved how you would done with Tucker as an old man. Absolutely beautiful and just tweeted, too. Thank you so much for always linking up with us and never disappointing!!!June 21, 2013 – 11:34 amReplyCancel

  • Considerer - What a gorgeous idea 🙂June 21, 2013 – 11:35 amReplyCancel

  • Kerri - I have tears in my eyes. Because I know when he and Boo have children they are going to be absolutely beautiful and we will spoil them rotten together. You need to save this post for his teen age years, his graduation and his future. I think this is by far your greatest ever written. And you’ve had some doozies what with Billy Idol and all. xoxoxoxoxoJune 21, 2013 – 11:40 amReplyCancel

  • clark - (yow)

    I mentioned somewhere recently that, though I use the word ‘competition’ when talking about how I feel about my FTSF posts (and those of everyone else).
    I re-defined my own use of the term in hopes of conveying the sense of the competition you see in (live)musical colaboration aka ‘a jam’. When you watch/listen to good/skilled muscians they are trying to take the theme/melody/idea to yet another place.

    a rather long way to say, nice post.June 21, 2013 – 12:10 pmReplyCancel

  • Bonnie Doody - Kristi, I have been where you are and am getting closer to where you want to be. My hubs and I spent an entire day with our 32-year-old son recently. I was never sure he would make it to adulthood because of the anxiety and depression he suffered as a child with Asperger’s syndrome. He also suffered through bullying as a child, teenager and then as an adult. So he did make it to adult status. It was a very hard, long struggle for our family–but to see how loved and respected he is by his friends and colleagues, and how well he is doing in his chosen city,(Brooklyn,NY), makes me KNOW all the love and hard work and counseling and support we provided for him was exactly what he needed to grow up to be himself. And, really, isn’t that all we want for our children is to grow up and be themselves living on their ow terms? May you live to see your son be his own self. When My son declared to peopleJune 21, 2013 – 12:22 pmReplyCancel

  • Kimberly - know what is weird?
    Just this morning, my son and I exchanged our usual “I love you to the moon” and he says “And all the way back”…and I thought about all of this changing when he gets older.
    When I watch my husband and his mom’s interactions I get sad because he never really talks to her or hangs out like he used to.
    Like you, I hope for the same thing.June 21, 2013 – 12:25 pmReplyCancel

  • Bonnie Doody - Hi Kristi again! Must have pushed a button too soon:-(. Anyway, we were on a public bus when my son was almost three. My son, his younger twin sisters and I were off on an adventure somewhere in the city. An elderly woman asked if he and his sisters were triplets. He stood up and said, “I am my own self.” He meant he was not a triplet. In fact, we are all our own selves; and I am grateful that he grew up living that and that I had the chance to realize that he is an adult with the ability to create his life. I wish that for you, Kristi, and every mom that you shall all have the chance to see your children grown up and on their own.June 21, 2013 – 12:33 pmReplyCancel

  • Deb @ Urban Moo Cow - You. You and your making me sob with your words. Breathtakingly beautiful.June 21, 2013 – 12:38 pmReplyCancel

  • Lori Lavender Luz - Though I’ve often though of this question in terms of people either living or dead, I never did think to bend time and go into the future.

    So yes, I, too would like to know what happens after me with my children. I have become more and more mindful of decisions that impact my health so that I can be around for them for as long as possible (I’m an old mom, too).

    This is a beautiful time capsule to your son.June 21, 2013 – 1:00 pmReplyCancel

  • Sarah Almond - I love this. What a wonderful spin on this topic! I so wanted to do this FTSF, but I’ve learned that I have to give one priority and since I’m doing Fly on the Wall I had to pass! I really enjoyed reading this Kristi!June 21, 2013 – 1:02 pmReplyCancel

  • Emily - Crying…that was one of the most beautiful and heartfelt pieces I have ever read. I’m going to re-read it several more times….June 21, 2013 – 1:30 pmReplyCancel

  • Shanique - This is beautiful. As a child I would love to find something of this from my parent.June 21, 2013 – 5:11 pmReplyCancel

  • GirlieOnTheEdge - Kristi, Kristi, Kristi. Damn. I am trying not to let the tears fall. Then I would have to tell you your writing brought me to tears. But is that a bad thing?:)
    You have beautifully, eloquently and innocently bared your soul. We who have read your words are the better for it.June 21, 2013 – 6:36 pmReplyCancel

  • Kelly Louise - Beautiful. Your blog might be the best reading he ever does. Your heart shines in every word.June 21, 2013 – 7:37 pmReplyCancel

  • Jean - Kristi, this is what we all want and you put it into such beautiful words. So lovely.June 21, 2013 – 7:48 pmReplyCancel

  • Kimbra - This is beautiful, I got so tears eyed reading this, as I could remember writing such similar letters to my son. I love reading about your amazing little boy and all the wonderful things you do with him and for him. Thank you for being such an inspiration

    June is Hydranencephaly awareness month – help spread the word
    http://mommysrambles.blogspot.com/2013/06/i-love-someone-with-hydranencephaly.htmlJune 21, 2013 – 10:43 pmReplyCancel

  • Shay - How is it that one moment you can make me laugh hysterically by calling me a skanky whore, and the next moment you can bring tears to my eyes with such profound posts?? You, my friend, are FULL of talent. Another awesome post.June 22, 2013 – 9:44 amReplyCancel

  • Menopausalmother - Oh Kristi, you made me teary- eyed with this one! My oldest son is now 26, and I am so proud of the man he has become. I pray that I will be alive to see him married, have kids, buy a house and reach my age. Time is so fleeting, isn’t it? This post really hit home for me. Thank you for sharing such a beautiful slice of your world with us. XOJune 22, 2013 – 2:17 pmReplyCancel

  • Dana - Like Shay said, you can make me snort with laughter or bring tears to my eyes like you did with this post. How wonderful it would be to have dinner with my old man babies.June 22, 2013 – 2:28 pmReplyCancel

  • Kate Hall - Beautiful, Kristi! I’ve had thoughts about what age my kids will be when I die. My daughter is 4 and I’m 41. I try not to think about it too much though. Get’s depressing. This is a great post! Very moving.June 22, 2013 – 3:12 pmReplyCancel

  • karen - I am a sobbing mess right now…that was so touching and beautiful…oh God, I can’t see through my tears woman. Your words….OH GOD…so beautiful… I can’t stop crying woman.June 23, 2013 – 8:08 amReplyCancel

  • Diane - That was astounding! I always know, when I visit here, that I am going to be taught. With wisdom. With humour. With great insight. And this tops all of them. Crying here in Canada. Thank you for sharing!June 23, 2013 – 9:14 amReplyCancel

  • Melissa@Home on Deranged - So lovely, even if it did make me a little sad, because I probably won’t get to meet the “little old lady” versions of our daughters, either. But I’d like to think that their dad will, and that comforts me, because he can reassure them how very much they were loved.June 23, 2013 – 4:45 pmReplyCancel

  • Anita @ Losing Austin - <3June 24, 2013 – 5:37 pmReplyCancel

  • Joy - Who allowed you to make me cry? :’-( *sniff*June 25, 2013 – 2:36 amReplyCancel

  • K - OMG. This is beautiful beyond words.June 25, 2013 – 7:15 pmReplyCancel

  • Jak - All I can say that this was beautiful.

    That and thank you for making me cry in the middle of a coffee shop.

    Yeah, but mostly beautiful.

    Jak at The Cryton Chronicles & Dreams in the Shade of InkJune 25, 2013 – 9:32 pmReplyCancel

  • Jen - Why you making me cry? This is such a beautiful post, I know so many of us feel that way, I know I do. And being “older” moms its hard knowing we might not be there for all of the milestones of adult life. It’s hard not to be jealous of some of those younger moms… really beautifully written. Really.June 27, 2013 – 6:43 pmReplyCancel

  • Kristi Campbell - All. I’m sorry that I don’t have a comment system (and after my recent blog scare with slow loading and other issues, trust me, I’m waiting for my theme to help me out) that allows me to reply to each of you individually (facebook comments allows that but you’ll have to include your blog URL). Just wow, guys. Thank you so much for the amazing support and kind words and understanding and tears. I have read this post myself a number of times and cry every time as well. There’s just something horrible and honest and un-changeable about the fact that we’re going to likely die before our children (and SHOULD because God forbid the opposite). It’s surreal to imagine them navigating life without us. But they are themselves. They are. We can only hope and pray that they are themselves in a situation that allows them to be the best of themselves. You people are beyond amazing. Thank you.June 27, 2013 – 10:30 pmReplyCancel

  • Jessica - AWW… How beautiful! I’m in the same boat. I will be 41 this year and my little one is 2. Wouldn’t be great to do that? Come back to see how they’re dong by having lunch? Thanks soo much for your wonderful post and sharing it on My Favorite Posts SHOW OFF Weekend Blog Party!

    Jessica
    The Wondering BrainJune 27, 2013 – 11:46 pmReplyCancel

  • Norine of Science Of Parenthood - I’m with you! I’m 47 now and my boy is 7. Being an older mom has it’s upsides and downsides. But the biggest upside is that I had my son when I was READY to have him. Thanks for a fabulous post!June 29, 2013 – 4:47 pmReplyCancel

  • Sandy - Take each day as it comes, don’t look so far forward you make yourself crazy. You’re not even old, you have plenty of time to see what career he lands, or if and when he falls in love. My DD is now an adult and I can tell you, yes they do know we do what we do for them.June 30, 2013 – 11:21 amReplyCancel

It’s Wednesday and I am proud to feature another excellent writer in the Our Land Series which began here because you guys were so inspiring. Today’s contribution was authored by my good friend Rachel from The Tao of Poop.  Not only does she have one of the best blog names ever, she is amazing.  Rachel is a blogger that I […]

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by Kristi Campbell

Whatcha think, peeps?
email a friend

  • Kerri - Rachel is so right, the World of Empathy and Wonder is messy. It is just like the real world. But sometimes there moments of absolute grace, where a child becomes a mayor and one lives their dreams through writing.

    Rachel, you know I think you are super awesome. The fact that you chose to teach a class that was more difficult and felt anger when others didn’t understand just goes to prove how wonderful you are!!June 19, 2013 – 10:32 amReplyCancel

  • Kristi Campbell - Kerri,
    I so completely agree! Rachel is wonderful.June 19, 2013 – 10:38 amReplyCancel

  • Janine Huldie - As a former teacher of students with and without learning disabilities, I could truly relate to this and thank you Rachel for sharing. I will say that I remember my first year of teaching when I had 4 sections of students who in regents level math classes and one that the kids had all sorts of learning disabilities and were consider in 11 grade to be in my class, because it was a last chance for them. These kids could definitely be challenging and had been dumped on for so long. It took me time to break down their resistances and gain their trusts, but I did. What did I get for that? I got the district saying I wasn’t conforming to state mandated measures for testing with them. Was I sorry? No, because for the first time ever I saw confidence in kids who were told not to have confidence and that they would never amount to much. I ended up leaving that district at the end of the semester, but those kids taught me more then any textbook or class I could have taken. And I still remember them to this day. The moral is sometimes we have to go against the grain and do what we believe to be right even if those in power don’t agree. Thank you for sharing and didn’t expect anything less here or from you, Rachel!! 🙂June 19, 2013 – 10:40 amReplyCancel

  • Considerer - What a gorgeous post. It leaves me hanging – was anything ever done to rectify her student’s visible status as a bar on a graph? Was the headteacher ever introduced to them?

    I love how their strengths shine through even while their challenges are acknowledged.

    Thanks to Rachel and thanks again, Kristi, for Our Land.June 19, 2013 – 10:45 amReplyCancel

  • Rachel - I am so honored to be a part of this series! Thank you, Kristi. And thank you for your warm introduction. It means so much coming from someone who I admire as much as you!June 19, 2013 – 1:05 pmReplyCancel

  • Jenifer S. - This is such a great message. Thank you for sharing this story with us – and I would like to know too if the school ever came around to understanding these special children don’t fit on a bar graph. They set their own trends and the world is better because of it and people like you Rachel and Kristi.June 19, 2013 – 1:09 pmReplyCancel

  • Deb @ Urban Moo Cow - My favorite part about this post is the idea that the world is messy, whether you are dyslexic or missing a hand or depressed or anorexic or just plain tired. Labels like “those children” make it easy for people to retreat from rather than embrace the world. Your kids were lucky to have had you as their advocate, however imperfect you were. xoJune 19, 2013 – 2:14 pmReplyCancel

  • Dana - I always knew teachers were special, but you are extra special, Rachel. As are the kids you teach. Thanks for sharing such an important message!June 19, 2013 – 3:01 pmReplyCancel

  • Rachel - Just to be clear, the “half” score was actually considered high, when compared to the city-wide special education cohort for that testing year. The school actually got a “bonus”, because my kids had done so “well” in comparison. I had a test analyst from Columbia’s Teachers College ask me what I had “done” to get my kids to score so “well” on the test. It’s all relative and ridiculous!June 19, 2013 – 3:17 pmReplyCancel

  • Maggie Amada - Wonderful thoughtful post.

    I question where our priorities lie as a society sometimes. It seems astounding that a statistician would be more important than pen and paper, but there you have it.

    Schools should be an environment where children are free to explore, learn and grow. We, myself included, can get overly focused on the numbers because they’re easy to understand. They don’t require us to get outside comfortable chairs in familiar environments. But this attitude is unfair to everyone, particular unfair to those with disabilities.

    I enjoy this series, because in a way, it forces me out of my comfortable chair without ever having to leave it.June 19, 2013 – 4:10 pmReplyCancel

  • Kenya G. Johnson - Another awesome post in the series. I love the tie in and meaning behind the magical miss. It really is a shame that someone was paid to produce data that doesn’t even dot the i or cross the t. This was excellent.June 19, 2013 – 5:41 pmReplyCancel

  • Anita @ Losing Austin - Thank you for another post that brings us in to the land, and makes us never want to leave.June 19, 2013 – 5:51 pmReplyCancel

  • just JENNIFER - I do not like the generalized “data” educators compile on our kids. My daughter has ADD and doesn’t fit neatly into their boxes. They don’t seem to get it, even though there are “accommodations” to allow for her ADD. It’s very frustrating.June 19, 2013 – 6:49 pmReplyCancel

  • jen - Rachel this is such an amazing post! Thank you so much, for helping more people understand the struggles our children face. My son is definitely the mayor, and it is very hard to get him to use his powers for good. When he does, it is wonderful, he can get everyone to listen to him and do just what he wants. When he doesn’t, I get a little scared that he might get “stuck” that way. The other day at the pool we met a boy with delays he was about Isaiah’s age so Isaiah didn’t get it, and was getting really frustrated. When I took him out of the pool to talk to him about it, he said “Oh! Does he have Sensory Processing Disorder?” It was really sweet, and that was all it took. He no longer identifies himself as that kid, he still is, but he feels like he’s licked it. If it helps him to empathize that’s ok by me. Thank you again….June 19, 2013 – 8:46 pmReplyCancel

  • Elizabeth @ Rocks, No Salt Mommy - What an amazing conglomeration from two beautiful women. Kristi, this little spot on the web is such a place of peace and solace. Kristi, your talent as a writer comes through every single word you write. It is a pleasure to read a post with a smooth flow and the heart that is so obviously behind your thoughts. I was eager to read this the minute I saw it posted and I’m so glad I took the time to sit down and truly soak it in. As a former school teacher, I understand the ridiculous meeting your are describing in this post. I’ve been in those. I’ve had the same feelings about wasted money, wasted time, and wasted resources. You are spot on with your observation that the principal doesn’t know what’s going on in your class. This is such a common problem. What you do on a daily basis is worthy of praise, not humiliation. So keep your head up, forget about those tests, and give those kids your heart and soul. Because the deserve nothing less. Thank you for this beautiful piece of writing tonight. And thank you Kristi for providing the platform for these types of discussions.June 19, 2013 – 10:37 pmReplyCancel

  • Elizabeth @ Rocks, No Salt Mommy - Rachel, I meant that to be directed at you! I wrote Kristi twice. Sorry. It’s late. 🙂June 19, 2013 – 10:39 pmReplyCancel

  • Kristi Campbell - As the hostertini or whatever you (clark) call it, I want to make an observation. Tucker is on an IEP. It is the “duty” of the IEP teacher to provide continual updates on the data that’s collected for the IEP. Which sounds great but the reality is that the progress reports that come home with numbers on them mean so much less to me than the daily progress reports do. Tucker’s teacher (and she is a great one, like Rachel) provides – every single day! – notes on what the challenges were, what small (and large) successes he had, and how he felt. To me, as a special needs mom, those daily reports mean SO MUCH MORE than the IEP progress reports do. They mean more because they give me reassurance that my son’s teacher sees him for HIM. That she sees my boy. That while IEP data is important for the long term (I guess), it’s really the daily stuff that is important for the long term. Is Tucker struggling with boundaries? Is he sad when people invade his space? Is this a pattern and how should we deal with it at home and at school? I want to know about his daily challenges. I want to know about HIM. MY boy, his quirks, his challenges, his triumphs. I want his teachers to see him. His wonder. The daily progress reports reassure me that they do.

    Thank you Rachel, for being one that sees. And thank you Mrs. M for being like Rachel and not the person who sees barcharts and school ratings. June 20, 2013 – 1:28 amReplyCancel

  • Melissa@Home on Deranged - Not sure I could be a bigger fan of either one of you.
    To Kristi – thanks for continuing to bring us such wonderful posts that work to make us broaden our minds and perspectives.

    To Rachel – Once again, you cut to the heart of it. I’m glad to see you didn’t try to make your class seem all “shiny, happy people,” but instead address what it was: the real world, just like the rest of us live in, where it gets messy and people disagree and make up. My favorite line: You need to remember to value relationships over achievements. Always.June 20, 2013 – 1:31 amReplyCancel

  • Kimberly - Gah I love the power behind your words that leave me wondering what the eff I’m going to say in response.
    You have so much heart kiddo. You really do. It’s teachers like you who make a difference. You see beyond the statistics and right into their hearts. People. They are people.
    Love.June 20, 2013 – 6:15 amReplyCancel

  • SocialButterflyMom - Such an honest post. Thanks for sharing!June 20, 2013 – 7:55 amReplyCancel

  • Jessica Smock - As a former teacher, I totally get this. When standardized tests and evaluative data are used in a one-size-fits-all way, everyone suffers. I remember one year when I was teaching sixth grade (Language Arts and Social Studies), I was placed with a former special education teacher who had worked with kids with behavioral difficulties. She had just gotten her middle school certification in math/science, but the school decided that because she had so much experience with challenging kids, they should put literally every challenging kid in the whole grade onto our team. There was no way that my team could be compared in any meaningful way to the other teams in the school. And things like this happen all the time. Every class of kids is different, student placements are not made randomly, and every year is different.June 20, 2013 – 12:53 pmReplyCancel

  • Diane - Inspirational! My third son, a man with special needs himself, works with special needs adults and we are constantly cheered, encouraged, enlivened, entertained and educated by him and the young men he is privileged to associate with. The term ‘special’ definitely applies to them. And I can’t imagine what our world would be like without these very extra special people in it. Thank you for this amazing post. You’ve brought tears to my eyes!June 20, 2013 – 4:19 pmReplyCancel

  • Rachel - I am in awe of the way in which you have all added to the dialogue in these comments. Thank you so much. I feel so much more “seen” by your words than I ever did by the system. The experience of sharing this post has been so rewarding for me. Kristi, thank you again for this series, for allowing me to be a part of it and for your amazing grace. It’s reflected in your readers!June 20, 2013 – 5:09 pmReplyCancel

  • Kristi Campbell - Rachel, thank you again for contributing. Maybe, with more community understanding, systems and schools and the “decision makers” will gain the knowledge required to get their shit together and realize that all children need to be SEEN and measured using a method that makes sense.

    The teachers who are with these kids each day have such a wiser and more informed overview of each child’s progress. While it may be easier for the “decision makers” to forget about the smaller percentage of special needs kids, some of us mamas can growl pretty loudly. I so very much appreciate your wisdom and insight and that you shared this very important perspective. Your words will help to change the world, friend. To one filled with more empathy and wonder.

    Thank you for helping us to remember that we need to remember to value relationships over achievements.June 20, 2013 – 6:49 pmReplyCancel

  • PJ Greetings - Powerful blog – thank you for sharing!June 21, 2013 – 11:02 amReplyCancel

Man, the 70’s were like a Petri dish of bad taste.  Seriously, avocado and marigold yellow were the only acceptable modern color choices for the gigantic appliances that dominated an already vomit-ugly kitchen?  What’s up with that?  Plaid high-water pants were in, as were ugly shoes and Winnie-the-Pooh raincoats.  Well, maybe they weren’t actually “in” […]

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by Kristi Campbell

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  • Michelle Liew - I remember 1979 well too – that was when my brother was born! Thanks for sharing, Kristi!!June 18, 2013 – 10:14 amReplyCancel

  • Kenya G. Johnson - Lol!!! I think because it was cool to go braless in the 70s under a halter – it wasn’t on our moms radar. My grandmother took me nub shopping when I was going to 3rd grade. Imagine a Walmart like store back in the day where she took the bra from out of its package and put it on me over my shirt. I was horrified. Not so much by the strangers passerbys – I didn’t know them. I just hoped Pop- Pop stayed wherever he was at while she tried bras on my over my shirt nubs.June 18, 2013 – 10:17 amReplyCancel

  • Janine Huldie - I barely remember 1979, because honestly I was only two years old, but by 1987, this was so me minus the 70s shag, but still having to ask for a training bra, because other friends already had the chest to fill a training bra and was so dying to be just like the rest of the girls. You really did capture that feeling quite well and was drawn back into that time of my life just by reading your post today. Thanks for sharing Kristi!!June 18, 2013 – 10:19 amReplyCancel

  • Emily - Well, instead of noticing your nub-boobs, the only thing I see in that photo is that adorable dog you are holding! As for bra shopping, that day I went shopping with my mom for my first bra is also clear as day in my mind…I remember being measured by the sales help and thinking nothing was more mortifying to me. Kind of makes me happy I have all boys and don’t have to re-live any of that trauma with them. Oh and I think I may be humming “Tragedy” for the rest of the day now…June 18, 2013 – 10:22 amReplyCancel

  • Lori Lavender Luz - I was hoping someone would invoke the BeeGees! I’m sorry that it was tied to Tragedy for you.

    Tragedy that I quite relate to, btw.June 18, 2013 – 10:28 amReplyCancel

  • Sarah Almond - My mom had Saturday Night Fever on a record, among other Bee Gees music. I hated the Bee Gees for a long time and I’m not sure why. Now I have them on my Ipod in case I want to rock out…June 18, 2013 – 10:40 amReplyCancel

  • Sylvia - Oh, the angst! My sister was 5 yrs older than me. One night when I was about 8 (1967) we were getting ready to get ice cream. I put on my sister’s bra and stuffed it. I couldn’t understand why my parents wouldn’t let me go to Carvel dressed like that! In 1979 I was 20 and had a newborn and a 3 year old, and a nursing bra!!June 18, 2013 – 12:01 pmReplyCancel

  • Dream - I understand the nub-boob first bra embarrassment as well. I got mine as a Christmas present, from my grandmother and unwrapped in front of over 40 family members. She then wanted me to try it on so she could see if it fit. I’m still emotionally scarred.

    I actually like Tragedy, but not the BeeGee’s version. Celldweller (electronic/industrial-rock) did a cover a few years back that was respectable, if you like that genre.June 18, 2013 – 12:41 pmReplyCancel

  • clark - Your Post has caused me to laugh out loud.

    I concur with Emily, (yeah, I know ‘thank god!’…lol)

    I noticed the dog. …and…and! what I notice is that you are quite advanced in your dog relating skills (judging by the flat, 2 dimensional image that I have), in terms of the proper holding of a dog, especially a puppy. This is not that common a skill among adults, never mind tiny children. (Especially liked the support of the hind paws… kids usually try to hold a dog by their ‘arm pits’ which is a pleasant experience for no one.)

    enjoyed your postJune 18, 2013 – 1:32 pmReplyCancel

  • Tracy@CrazyAsNormal - I totally knew that was a plant. 🙂June 18, 2013 – 4:45 pmReplyCancel

  • Kimbra - I remember that first bra, and having the same reactions from both friends and from my bratty little brother… Of course I so hated being a girl and needing a bra that remember literally crying when the first one was purchasedJune 18, 2013 – 5:22 pmReplyCancel

  • Considerer - Oh bless your beestings! I remember having a cami-top in the early 90’s (when I was prepubescent and full of angst) and it had Forever Friends bears on it. I loved it.

    I was also late to get my first bra and remember my ‘friends’ trying to feel through the back of my school shirt whether I’d got one yet or not.

    New research suggests that if you never wear a bra, your chest muscles and tissues retain their elasticity and you end up with better boobs. Where was that knowledge when I was young? Cos apparently if you’ve been wearing a bra for more than 5 years you’ll always need one 🙁June 18, 2013 – 5:57 pmReplyCancel

  • Anita @ Losing Austin - You took me there with you! I’m a few years younger, but not much… and I waited until my mom FINALLY told me it was time for a bra, after I realized I was the only uncool one too. Oh the woes of youth!June 18, 2013 – 5:58 pmReplyCancel

  • Dana - I just heard Tradegy on the radio the other day – and now forever more I will think of you and your little nub-boobs.

    I remember insisting on getting a bra because the boys tried to snap them at recess – no one wanted to have nothing to snap!June 18, 2013 – 6:00 pmReplyCancel

  • Kristi Campbell - Michelle,
    It was so much longer ago than it feels like!
    —-
    Kenya,
    OMG I hope Pop-Pop stayed away! Ugh. Bras. The humiliation!
    —
    Janine,
    Yes, it’s so important to fit in with our friends at that age! I can remember it so well!June 18, 2013 – 6:52 pmReplyCancel

  • Kristi Campbell - Emily,
    Ha that you noticed the dog! That was Junior and he was truly awesome. And I know you saw the nub, too. It’s okay that you didn’t want to admit it.
    —
    Lori,
    UGH I think the first bra experience plain old sucked for all of us. Truly.
    —
    Sarah,
    The Bee Gees are awesome! Glad you came around to being able to rock out to them.
    —
    Sylvia,
    HAHAHA to stuffing your sister’s bra and not understanding why your parents wouldn’t take you to Carvel. That’s epically hilarious! Thanks for sharing that!
    —June 18, 2013 – 6:55 pmReplyCancel

  • Kristi Campbell - Dream,
    Sounds like a lot of us had humiliating experiences with the first bra and nub-boobies. I can’t believe your Grandma gave you a bra for Christmas. Not only is that a way sucky Christmas gift but having to open it in front of your relatives? YIKES.
    I’ll have to check out the Celldweller cover of Tragedy – I’ve never even heard of them. Thanks so much for the recommendation!
    —June 18, 2013 – 6:57 pmReplyCancel

  • Kristi Campbell - Clark,
    I really was a kick-ass dog holder. Still, you can admit that my mother should have noticed first! Ha. And um, yeah, Thank God you concur with Emily!
    —
    Tracy,
    You obviously have a very fine eye for art.
    —
    Kimbra,
    Awww…sorry to hear that buying your first bra made you cry! Being that age is so humiliating anyway. Kudos to online shopping to moms of girls can now try them on at home!
    —June 18, 2013 – 7:00 pmReplyCancel

  • Kristi Campbell - Considerer,
    Really? That sucks because I’ve now been wearing a bra for like 33 years or something. Bummer to being 28 years too late for ever having a shot at perky again. And aw to Forever Friends Bears!
    —
    Anita,
    Yes, the woes of youth indeed! Glad I wasn’t the only uncool one.
    —
    Dana,
    How lovely that every time you hear Tragedy, you’ll think of my little nub-boobs from now on out. I like being thought of so I’m okay with it being about my buds.
    —June 18, 2013 – 7:03 pmReplyCancel

  • Ariana Gruver - Oh how I dreaded my first bra! I really did need to cover the nubs, but my mom didn’t think so, which allowed me to remain in denial…until, yes, I got teased. Totally related to your great post! And those shoes…our school shoes were always something sensible, but never athletic shoes like the other kids wore, oh the humanity…June 18, 2013 – 7:18 pmReplyCancel

  • Kerri - Only you would put a picture of your nubs! And only I would see how much you look like Tucker if you would only put him in a hideous dress. Tragedy indeed. Oh and how funny that we both blamed the Bee Jees for our poor fashion choicesJune 18, 2013 – 9:09 pmReplyCancel

  • Tatum - Oh, you did NOT! Did NOT. OMG! I am rolling on the floor laughing….no, not ROFL…for real laughing. So loud that Kellen could hear me from the garage. And now he keeps asking me why I was laughing. Shit. How do I respond? That picture! Too much. I can’t even get out a coherent thought to leave a comment. But, thanks for the laugh.June 18, 2013 – 9:15 pmReplyCancel

  • Tatum - PS – at least you figured it out yourself…my BFF had to pull me aside and let me in on the secret that the boys were talking about my nubs. I blame the fact that I was the only girl.June 18, 2013 – 9:18 pmReplyCancel

  • Jak - ACK! Nub nubs?! What are you dong to me? I feel all dirty now lol Now I have to post about my man-boobs to exact revenge! Okay, not really, but still >.> I’d rather see your new 3D shirts kthxbye. 😉
    –
    That had to be a bit embarrassing at the time. It’s a good thing your mother still brought you out to get one, even though she felt you didn’t need one.
    –
    I rocked out to your Bee Gees, and while I never lived in the 60s/70s (so I may wait until the hop hits the 80s), it did give me an idea of what to post today with a musical theme.
    –
    Jak at The Cryton Chronicles & Dreams in the Shade of InkJune 18, 2013 – 9:39 pmReplyCancel

  • Middleage Monologues - I love the Bee Gee’s…I am kind of a disco dork so the Bee Gee’s totally made my list! I have to say that I almost pee’d my pants reading your post I was laughing so hard! Oh BTW…I totally knew that was a plant in your drawing! HAHAHAHAHAAAAA! Great post! 😉June 18, 2013 – 9:46 pmReplyCancel

  • Jen - I’m sorry, personally I can’t get over how FREAKIN cute that puppy is! And you…you little toehead! Who knew? You are so awesome. And here’s something we both havein real common. The Christmas light thing. I did that for years….years…. I still can feel the magic as well. It’s deep inside, those freakin LED Christmas lights are going to ruin my magic man!!!!
    And Tragedy, well that’s a gimme. I sing that all the time, for lot’s of occasions, because it fits. It just fits. You my friend are my funny as heck, eggplant drawing, training bra wearing, christmas light sister of awesomeness. MWAH! TTTx10 !June 18, 2013 – 10:50 pmReplyCancel

  • Stephanie @ Mommy, for real. - OMG, you DID have little boob nubs! And yes, 11 is so angsty. I was angsty for years and years, truth be told, but that Judy Blume stage is brutal! Shit, that means I have like five years left, or less, before I go through it vicariously with my daughter. Who, incidentally, asked about the “white thing” hanging down my leg in the shower, and now she knows all about periods. I will tell you more about that hilarious tale when I am not writing “in public.” And I LOVED the Christmas clump! xoxo, friendJune 18, 2013 – 11:15 pmReplyCancel

  • Kristi Campbell - Ariana,
    Oh no! Sorry you got teased. Such a hard time in a girl’s life (well, probably a boy’s as well). And, yeah, those shoes were awful.
    —
    Kerri,
    The Bee Gees were the cause of much evil in the 70’s – the primary one being fashion!
    —
    Tatum,
    Glad I could provide you with a most excellent laugh. Apparently, I have zero bits of shame. Like, none.
    —
    Jak,
    Sorry. Please do write about your man boobs so that I can be forgotten in this gigantic interwebs place with my nub nubs.
    —
    MM,
    Thanks for letting me know that my plant drawing was very obviously a plant! Glad you came and laughed.
    —
    Jen,
    You are awesome. That is all.
    —
    Stephanie,
    Yikes to five more years until you have to deal with this. And really? She asked about the white thing? OMG, I cannot wait to hear this. Hahah!
    —June 19, 2013 – 9:04 amReplyCancel

  • Natalie DeYoung - I missed the seventies, but the eighties were pretty darn bad for fashion, too. I had shorts with neon fish swimming all over them.
    My mom had to take me out bra shopping – I was ten and all of the sudden one morning I woke up with a full on bosom. It seriously was like an overnight phenomena. Thank God my mom knew to get me a bra before the teasing started…June 19, 2013 – 11:51 amReplyCancel

  • Deb @ Urban Moo Cow - Ha! I can so relate to this post. I developed pretty early, so can I say, ugh.

    also, I was thinking about Are You There God It’s Me Margaret the other day for some reason – do girls still read that now? I bet if we read it today we’d be mortified.June 19, 2013 – 1:57 pmReplyCancel

  • Slu - Cute story & cute pics… You are absolutely Rockin’ that bike with the wicker basket and all!!!

    Hey… No Tragedy at all!!! Enjoyed, SluJune 19, 2013 – 7:13 pmReplyCancel

  • Kimberly - Nub training…bwhaahahah!!!June 20, 2013 – 6:38 amReplyCancel

  • Kim Pugliano - Man, 1979. I remember the nubs and they HURT so bad!! I don’t mean to be a Debbie downer, but my parents separated in 1978 or 1979 and Mom and Beth and I moved into a townhome just down the street from where I’m currently living. I honestly don’t remember much of that year because on August 2 my daddy was killed in the line of duty. My world stopped then and I remember nothing. 20 years later I was induced on August 1 and the whole family held their breath, but Noah wasn’t born until the 4th (two inductions). Kristi, this is not a sad comment. I wouldn’t have my Noah or Hot Joe or my pets. I wouldn’t have my beautiful nephews, one of them special needs and the most amazing child I have ever met. That is all.June 27, 2013 – 5:27 pmReplyCancel

  • Andrea - Sorry to pick up this thread a little late, but the pictures of your bikes and nub boobs got brought back memories of a couple of milestones on the angst that was my journey from being a carefree tomboy to a hormonal teenager in the early 1970’s!

    When I left primary school in the summer of 1971, I was still the flat chested tomboy I had always been for the past 5 or 6 years. I was always happier joining in the boys games, and with my sort hair and preference for jeans and a T shirt, I could quite easily be mistaken for a boy.

    The first stage of my journey was being sent to an all girls secondary school. I would still play with the local boys at weekends, but gradually with not being with them at school, I didn’t quite feel as much of the ‘gang’ as I had previously.

    The next milepost involves the bike. Mum and dad bought me a new bike as a Christmas present. Fine except instead of one with racing handlebars like some of the boys had, they went and bought me a Raleigh Moulton, with small wheels, which they said was more practical. They also said it was advertised as ‘unisex’. Well that might have been, but it certainly didn’t impress the local boys!

    Next, over the winter and early spring months, my chest started to show the first signs of development. At first it wasn’t noticeable under my winter clothes and as long as I remembered to wear a vest under my shirt, it didn’t really draw attention to itself when I was running around in pe.

    Unfortunately mum had noticed and bought me my first bra as a 12th birthday present in early May 1972, saying something like “I thought you might be wanting to wear one soon”. Nothing could be further from the truth. When I tried it on, it felt like an iron band around my ribs and I hated the fact that it emphasised the shape I was trying to disguise! The bra remained unworn in my drawer for the remainder of the school year and into the summer holidays. I was living on borrowed time though; it became more difficult to find clothes that hid my shape and whereas the previous summer changing on the beach was just a question of whipping off my T shirt and putting on my swimming costume, now I always had to make sure my chest remained covered.

    Eventually when it came time for ‘back to school shopping’ mum insisted that I had to have more bras, rather than vests.July 2, 2013 – 1:31 pmReplyCancel

  • Kimberly H. Smith - You took me way back with this, Kristi! Winnie the Pooh raincoat. Wow. I am a child of the 70s too. Loved the BeeGees clip. And my friends and I all read Are You There God? It’s Me, Margaret. There was only 1 copy in our Catholic School Library. We all took turns checking it out. Thanks for sharing this on Throwback Thursday Tell-All Linky Party!October 30, 2014 – 10:51 amReplyCancel

It’s so easy to feel overwhelmed, overtired, overextended and over it.  And that’s why it’s extra important to take a moment and remember what we’re thankful for each week.  Here’s a quick glimpse into the things – both small and big – that I feel particularly thankful for right this minute. My husband.  Happy Father’s […]

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by Kristi Campbell

Whatcha think, peeps?
email a friend

  • Kenya G. Johnson - Awww, sweet. As you know because I mentioned before that I grew up to be a fraidy cat, the thought of catching fireflies does excite me until I think about what else is out there lingering in the dark. Actually I don’t see them much here. Maybe it gets TOO hot. I spent my summers in PA as a child and my grandfather had a big field behind his out. They were plentiful then.June 16, 2013 – 12:29 pmReplyCancel

  • Janine Huldie - Wonderful things to indeed be thankful for and so with you on my love of chicken fajitas, too!! But seriously, Happy Father’s Day to your husband today!! 🙂June 16, 2013 – 1:17 pmReplyCancel

  • clark - Excellent List… despite it being a monochromatic idea, the varieties of expressions (or manifesting, as we say ’round the Doctrine) of gratitude for (an equally) wide and yet somehow in-common facets of life that show up here is pretty damn cool

    hey even Hallmark does a thing that is genuinely good… lolJune 16, 2013 – 1:24 pmReplyCancel

  • Kristi - I’m envious of your fireflies; we don’t have them out here. They look so magical!June 16, 2013 – 2:59 pmReplyCancel

  • Lisa Nelson - Thanks for hosting this excellent and fun hop!June 16, 2013 – 3:19 pmReplyCancel

  • Kerri - Love chicken fajitas. I think we should meet for a plate and a margarita.June 16, 2013 – 3:38 pmReplyCancel

  • Considerer - Ohhhh fireflies are gorgeous. I’ve only ever seen two, but held them both and they were stunningly amazing creatures. I’m glad you’re going to show Tucker (and how exciting to get to stay up late with them! What a memory to have)

    I’m so glad you’re thankful for chicken fajitas – that’s what this hop is all about – the big things and the important little ones which make life taste so good.June 16, 2013 – 5:27 pmReplyCancel

  • Dyanne @ I Want Backsies - YOUR DYI GHETTO CAR WASH IS THE BEST! Not only is it creative genius, but you made it WITH A TAMPON BOX!

    (At a girls night out at my house just before Christmas, I had all my friends make angel ornaments out of tampons, which was a tongue-in-cheek craft I found on Pinterest. Good times.)June 16, 2013 – 8:26 pmReplyCancel

  • Dyanne @ I Want Backsies - And it would be even better if I put DIY instead of DYI. I’m such a moron.June 16, 2013 – 8:28 pmReplyCancel

  • christine - It seems every time I turn around, someone I know is being diagnosed with something horrible. I am more and more grateful for the good health of my family ever single day.
    One of my kids was out catching fireflies just last night. So many wonderful memories from when I was young. (And reading these comments, it surprised me that not everyone has seen fireflies. Like a three year old, I forget people live differently from me.)
    I do believe we’ll be having chicken fajitas for dinner tomorrow.June 16, 2013 – 10:56 pmReplyCancel

  • Kristi Campbell - Again, going upside down as Tucker prefers on the comments here).
    —-
    Christine,
    I didn’t grow up with fireflies either and perhaps that is why I find them so magical and amazing. Last summer, we kept Tucker up way too late several times to see them lighting up the trees. The window of their brilliance is so short…and beautiful…
    And yeah, the diagnoses are horrible and scary and make health hit home.
    —
    Dyanne,
    I think it’s freaking awesome that you put DYI because that’s how important that crap is! And I LOVE tampon angels!! LOVE hard.
    —
    Considerer,
    They are truly gorgeous. They’re new to me and I adore them. Me saying that about a bug is huge. Last summer, we really enjoyed taking Tucker to see them. I’m looking forward to it again (and you’re right – the staying up late part is the stuff that sticks, right? Those weird spur-of-the-moment moments are the ones I remember as a kid!).June 16, 2013 – 11:14 pmReplyCancel

  • Kristi Campbell - Kerri,
    Come pick me up in your kickass jeep. But know that I had one first (which means I’m jealous as _______). Please hurry.
    —-
    Lisa,
    Thanks so much for joining!!! We hope you’ll be back.
    —
    Kristi,
    You have a great kickass name and I hope so much that you will see amazing firefly action at some point in your life. They are awesome.June 16, 2013 – 11:17 pmReplyCancel

  • Anita@ Losing Austin - We have never ending health issues, but before reading this I was thinking that though they stress me enormously and the financial burden is large, I’m thankful for access to good care. This morning as I did therapy for my back and my son did therapy for his knee, that gratitude was there.June 17, 2013 – 11:49 amReplyCancel

  • Jean - Yep. Shit I want to say more but the movers are moving my couch 🙂June 17, 2013 – 12:38 pmReplyCancel

  • Shay - My family, our health, and jeans that make my butt look good!June 17, 2013 – 4:57 pmReplyCancel

  • nataliedeyoung - This post reminded me I’m thankful that Dexter is starting up soon… 🙂June 18, 2013 – 2:28 pmReplyCancel

  • Jak - Oh Kristi… you and your True Blood Boy Toy crushes 😉 I have yet to see that series. I watched the pilot episode and liked it a lot, but never kept up with it for some reason. I will need to get on it. So behind on multiple series, though.

    I blew by all the comments (no offense) to avoid spoilers >.< I usually enjoy reading them.

    Hope your weekend was a lot of fun!

    I don't ever take many photos. I don't find myself to be very photogenic lol Music, however, works in a very similar fashion for me.

    I'm not sure why, but I've always liked Fireflies. and I like songs, stories, or art depicting them.

    Have to check out the ghetto car wash!

    Jak at The Cryton Chronicles & Dreams in the Shade of InkJune 18, 2013 – 8:21 pmReplyCancel

  • Kate - Lots to be thankful for! Love that you included photos because they are so important to me too!June 18, 2013 – 11:15 pmReplyCancel

  • Kim Pugliano - Hot Joe, who took on the world when he took on Noah and I. Everyday he does or says something that makes me think, “Wow, he REALLY does love the two of us.” Plus – He’s Hot Joe. I mean duh. I’m thankful I have him to look at every day.June 20, 2013 – 5:18 pmReplyCancel

The hardest part of my day is the three hours when Tucker should be napping but isn’t.  He’s cranky. I’m cranky.  I would much rather be working sleeping fucking off online connecting with you lovely people than trying to entertain an overtired, over-stimulated three-year-old boy. Like a good friend said to me, when you’re on […]

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by Kristi Campbell

Whatcha think, peeps?
email a friend

  • Janine Huldie - Hands down best invention ever and actually just gave the girls a bath this morning, because last night was just crazy and admit they went to bed without one (another story for another time) and so could used this one. But will be trying this out out now!! Thanks for sharing and also for linking up with us again!! 🙂June 14, 2013 – 10:41 amReplyCancel

  • Courtney - This made me laugh! I call my classroom, where I quickly made a bunch of things “Pinterest Gone Wrong.” People laugh, but I totally serious!June 14, 2013 – 10:49 amReplyCancel

  • Kerri - And this is why we are friends. I did not think there existed on this huge Earth a less craft or DIY person than myself. And here you go proving me wrong!! Love it!!June 14, 2013 – 10:57 amReplyCancel

  • Lori Lavender Luz - Franzia I can do!

    You are a genius. And I bet I could out-lazy you any day of the week.

    As long as I don’t have to get out of my Barcalounger to do it.June 14, 2013 – 11:21 amReplyCancel

  • Kenya G. Johnson - Hey whatever it takes. I am impressed that you cut a box WTH fringes no less. That’s major for non-crafters. I have a Pinterest board (I think) of neat stuff I pinned that I’ll probably never do. We’ve got 8 empty bottles here waiting to put water and food coloring in to make color music whatevers. Sigh.

    Side note. Throw that paint away and call somebody!June 14, 2013 – 11:23 amReplyCancel

  • Julie Sparks - Wow. I love the idea! I wish I had thought about it when the boys were younger!June 14, 2013 – 11:39 amReplyCancel

  • Sarah Rudell Beach - So funny! And great idea for a project – my son will love that. I am dreading the day he stops napping!June 14, 2013 – 11:53 amReplyCancel

  • Sara - Ha! I confess I thought Tuck was going to BE the car in this scenario and I thought that 1st pic was of a BIG box, big enough for Tucker to crawl through! I couldn’t figure out what product would come in a box so big with so much writing on the side. LOL.

    Very cool and as ever, very classy.

    (Maybe a big cardboard box with wash clothes tied to one end could be a Tucker wash…..)

    Whatever the genetic defect in me is that makes me want to be helpful against all odds or reason, immediately started plotting how I could fly out to paint StepDaughter’s old room. I would much much MUCH rather be out there painting your room (and listening to tunes w/ Tuck while I taught him how to “help” ….and then patiently re-paint everything he did without complaining b/c my OCD must be obeyed)…than sitting at yucky work doing Nothing Special. It’s good to dream.

    Will Tuck move into the new room? ….or will it be Tuck’s Room Adjunct? …and will you add a Kristi Special Drawing a la the painting of Chief in his current room? (which, if I’m not mistaken was a Hubs Special, not a Kristi Special….am I remembering that right?
    Way to rock the DIY project!June 14, 2013 – 2:19 pmReplyCancel

  • Stephanie @ Mommy, for real. - I. Am. Dying! I loved this so much- one of my favorites of yours, for real! This is so clever, first of all, and second of all, every single thing about this post was hilarious and awesome. Calling crafty people weirdos, the third playground thing, your description of the car wash, and then when I got to the Tampax box I totally snorted out loud. My daughter would have heard me, but she is busy glued to the TV because I, like you, am not crafty. And I am lazy. And I am on the computer instead of playing with her. And shit- she’s too old for the carwash thing. This is the best!!!June 14, 2013 – 3:46 pmReplyCancel

  • Dana - You are brilliant. You should write a book of ghetto crafts – it would be a bestseller. You can include using maxi pads as Barbie mattresses. You’re welcome.June 14, 2013 – 3:54 pmReplyCancel

  • Bianca @ Track Pants and a Tot - I’m with you on the nap strikes. I love all your side comments as well. Too funny. I like the car wash idea. Who cares if it’s ghetto, it keeps the kids entertained!June 14, 2013 – 5:02 pmReplyCancel

  • Considerer - Necessity is the mother of invention and you clearly needed some You time. Well done for fixing that 😉June 14, 2013 – 6:59 pmReplyCancel

  • Kristi Campbell - (from the bottom up and I miss nested comments and I have said that before)
    —-
    Considerer,
    Me time and smiley time from Tucker!
    —
    Bianca,
    Nap strikes just plain old suck. Ghetto is cool right? Er…
    —
    Dana,
    SNORT to the maxi pads as Barbie mattresses! Brilliance!
    —
    Steph,
    Thank you for seeing the funny. The first couple of comments had me wondering whether people thought I was trying to share a real craft (I mean I was but the whole point is that it sucked so bad).June 14, 2013 – 7:26 pmReplyCancel

  • Kristi Campbell - Sara!
    Actually a real size car wash for Tucker sounds AWESOME – great idea with the washcloths! Awesome! Thanks. Also…
    Please DO come paint my walls. I think Tucker will move into the new room and yes, the plan is to paint firetrucks and airplanes in there for him (although Robert is leaning toward getting those decal things that you remove which bleh).
    Yes, he is the one who painted Chief and the monkey. I actually wanted Chief near the floor like he was sitting down for real but Robert said no because he didn’t want to bend down. I can respect that.June 14, 2013 – 7:27 pmReplyCancel

  • Kristi Campbell - Sarah,
    Yeah, no nap days are so hard. It’s like they still need them but have figured out how to not take them. I hope yours takes naps for YEARS!
    —
    Julie,
    🙂
    —
    Kenya,
    I don’t suppose my crappy car wash will make it to your pinterest board, huh? Oh well. And YES to calling somebody!
    —
    Lori,
    HAHAHA awesome comment! Franzia for all of us.
    —
    —
    —
    SARA – another comment for you. See Lori here? She used to work at CFU and we found each other through blogger friend Stephanie. Weird small world, huh? She’s still friends with Lisa and Ethel.June 14, 2013 – 7:32 pmReplyCancel

  • Kristi Campbell - Kerri,
    I’ll sell you your very own Tampax carwash for Boo. At a discount. Unused, even. Oh wait. You mean you are better at crafts than I am. Oh. Well. Cheers, friend.
    —
    Courtney,
    Glad I made you laugh, woman! HAHA to Pinterest gone wrong! Love it!
    —
    Janine,
    In my world, it’s totally fine to go to bed without a bath.June 14, 2013 – 7:34 pmReplyCancel

  • Emily - Oh, you are so right about that dreaded nap-less afternoon…I remember that as being such a hard time. He was no longer napping and I suddenly lost my down-time, along with my sanity. But, what you did was absolutely the best approach…I think as moms we always feel like we need to entertain our kids every waking moment and then we feel guilty if we’re not engaging them and this is especially pronounced when you have a child with special needs. But, to come up with an activity that will keep your child entertained without you is incredibly smart — it’s good for him AND you.June 14, 2013 – 7:52 pmReplyCancel

  • Lisa @ The Golden spoons - OMG!!! That is hilarious!! I don’t do DIY either and if I ever did it would probably look something like yours. I say it’s quite inventive and took a great deal of ingenuity!June 14, 2013 – 10:36 pmReplyCancel

  • Kate Hall - I was looking closely at the box…is that a juice box? Is it a…it’s a Tampax box! LOLOL! Very funny! One time I took a Xerox paper box and cut a hole in the top and doors on the side and put red construction paper all over it and made a fire house. They played with it for a long time, but your idea is less work and therefore I like it better.June 14, 2013 – 11:19 pmReplyCancel

  • Shay - Um, have you been cyberhanging out with me too long? Because your ass has become as trash-ay as mine! Haha! Seriously, though, I LOVE this. I am SO going to do it. Too cute and fun!June 14, 2013 – 11:21 pmReplyCancel

  • Melissa@Home on Deranged - Good to know there are others in the “too lazy to do that” department. I scroll through Pinterest, laughing at how I’m never going to do that. Or that. Or that.
    Your car wash idea is brills. And is way better than putting them in the tub until they are so pruny they beg to take a nap. 😉June 15, 2013 – 12:15 amReplyCancel

  • Rich Rumple - Gee, I want one of those! lol I’m still waiting to see the Tunnel Of Horrors toy you make out of a Preparation H box! 🙂 We may have another “Mommy Dearest” novel forthcoming in the future! “I remember all the toys my mother used to make me out of strange boxes. I never felt like a normal child, and always wondered what strange creation she was going to come up with next.” 🙂 Great post!June 15, 2013 – 12:17 amReplyCancel

  • Kimbra - LOVE that it is a tampon box, I laughed so hard I was crying, so seems like something I would do, especially since like you I am totally not a DIY person like at allJune 15, 2013 – 12:57 amReplyCancel

  • Sarah Almond - You know, my Kotex U boxes are very pretty. I’d feel pretty classy using that one. You are brilliant my dear!June 15, 2013 – 1:41 amReplyCancel

  • Katia - This was priceless, the ghetto tampax carwash box! I love you even more now! I am totally the same way, things spend months waiting to get done around here and it’s so comforting to find a post like yours in a sea of crafty DIY I do my best to ignore. More power to you, my friend, and I may just adopt that idea! I feel like Ben would love this!June 15, 2013 – 1:25 pmReplyCancel

  • Anita@ Losing Austin - I’m really not the DIY type either- I always think I want to be, I even pin crap, but I still have 15 empty wine bottles in my pantry from almost two years ago that I *swear* I’m doing a craft with one day!

    So I love your ghetto car wash. I’m lazy and just drove Ben through a real one for $5 today.June 16, 2013 – 7:37 amReplyCancel

  • Christina Morley - Get the guy to paint the room! You’ll be happy when it’s done. And, your child takes a lot of your energy, so you don’t have to try and be a great housekeeper too. Getting help is always a good idea if you can afford it. The car wash game was a great idea! By the way, I bought stickers for the girls’ bedroom walls in Feb. and I still haven’t removed the big poster and cleaned the walls to apply the stickers. That’s my lazy!
    Thanks for linking and leaving a comment on Amanda’s Books and More!June 16, 2013 – 4:05 pmReplyCancel

  • Tatum - What a great seque into having a “mommy’s crabby days” talk with young boys!June 16, 2013 – 9:28 pmReplyCancel

  • Jen - OK Seriously? Genius. What can I say. You and I are clearly sisters in the laziness department, and with a kid who needs someone to play with them ALL THE TIME. Wait until he’s done napping. Then you might need some serious medication.
    Believe me, we will be playing Ghetto Car Wash. Maybe crank some Eminem.June 17, 2013 – 11:15 amReplyCancel

  • Jak - That is an amazing piece of craftsmanship! I’m a little jelly. I’ve never gotten into the whole DIY movement I seem to find everywhere now. I may be too lazy for it? Motivation is a bit lacking I guess in that department.

    Though, I used to make large playgrounds for my cats (when they were kittens) out of boxes. They are pretty short lived once they aren’t kittens any longer.
    –
    Does that mean Tucker still has a Disney-on-acid-pink bedroom? >.> Maybe that is why he refuses a nap? lol
    –
    Jak at The Cryton Chronicles & Dreams in the Shade of InkJune 18, 2013 – 8:39 pmReplyCancel

    • Kristi Campbell - Jak,
      No, it means Tucker still has his baby room and he’s almost four! Freaking fucking crafty shit. I hate it. I’m impressed that you made a playground for your cats. I’d love to see a photo.June 19, 2013 – 12:34 amReplyCancel

  • Jak - ACK you best get to calling a painter, Sucka! He is going to outgrow his room he’s already outgrown 🙂
    –
    It was pretty sweet. Wish I had pictures. Even used a White Castle Crave Case box, because I’m classy like that!June 19, 2013 – 2:01 amReplyCancel

  • Sarah Almond - I loved it the first time and still love it the second time. Thanks for giving us something to make with our used feminine item boxes, and thanks for linking up with us at the Humor Me Blog Hop!July 2, 2013 – 11:07 pmReplyCancel

  • Terrye - Desperation is the mother of creativity. 🙂 Great job and I hope Tucker loves it as much as you love mommy time! 🙂July 4, 2013 – 10:58 amReplyCancel

  • Jessica - OMG. I just saw this, and that is the best thing ever! LOLFebruary 25, 2014 – 1:49 pmReplyCancel

  • Blaire - Oh you’re funny! You just brought a smile to my kid filled busy day! Thank ya.June 16, 2014 – 1:44 pmReplyCancel

  • Jill - Any post with the word “ghetto” in it will get my attention. This is a fabulous idea and we’re so trying it!October 21, 2014 – 7:22 amReplyCancel

  • Lisa @ The Meaning of Me - Oh my god I LOVE this – all of it. Thanks for sharing that link in your TToT!March 4, 2015 – 1:00 amReplyCancel

It’s Wednesday!  Wednesdays equal Our Land! I am proud to feature another amazing voice in this Series which began here because you, my friends, were beyond wonderful. Today’s awesomeness is brought to you by my friend Tatum from Ain’t No Roller Coaster.  Tatum’s and my paths crossed through our mutual friend Kerry, who, as you may recall, launched this series […]

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by Kristi Campbell

Whatcha think, peeps?
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  • Sarah Almond - What a great analogy! This was wonderful-I enjoyed every word of it!

    My son is also very inquisitive and very persistent if he doesn’t get an answer-to the point where I get driven bananas much of the time. While other kids his age are wanting to know about, well, whatever 2nd graders want to know about, he’s currently educating himself on the different elements in the periodic table. He memorized it, and now he’s investigating each individual part. He may not remember much else, but he’s got this down (he is severely ADD and possibly on the spectrum, but as of yet no diagnosis).

    I wouldn’t have it any other way.

    Thank you for sharing your story with the Our Land series! 😀 I really need to get my butt in gear and finish my post.June 12, 2013 – 10:18 amReplyCancel

  • Janine Huldie - Yes, Kristi I am totally hooked and seriously this was such a wonderful article and analogy. I taught photosynthesis and chlorophyll to middle school kids and never thought quite this way about it, but really does make sense. Thank you so much for continuing this series (love it by the way–in case you didn’t realize) and thank you to Tatum for sharing with us!! 🙂June 12, 2013 – 10:20 amReplyCancel

  • Julie Sparks - Yep, I’m hooked! Thanks for giving me a great new blog to follow! 🙂June 12, 2013 – 10:34 amReplyCancel

  • Jen - This is an awesome post. And I know why chlorophyll is green, because God wanted our world to be beautiful. Just like God gave us our kids for a reason. We may not know what the reason is for our kids to be special, but they are and they make our world brighter and more special because of it. I love this post, and I love your sense of humor! Such a wonderful analogy for special needs!June 12, 2013 – 10:59 amReplyCancel

  • K - I love this. LOVE THIS. Never again will I think about chlorophyll in the same way, and simply reading about Owen has made my world more beautiful. Kristi and Tatum, I feel so privileged to have found you both, and thank you for sharing this. Hugs!June 12, 2013 – 11:20 amReplyCancel

  • Tatum - Sarah Almond, your son sounds amazing. I’d love him to teacch me about the periodic tables. I can’t wait to read your post!

    Janine, Thank you for validating my scientific reasoning :). I’m so happy to hear it makes sense to someone with a deeper-than-Wikipedia understanding of photosynthesis. I’m honored to have had the chance to contribute.

    Julie, I just took a look at your blog. I look forward to getting to know you through our writings.

    Jen, yes! I often say, “because God made it that way” and Kellen thinks that’s a pretty cool response.June 12, 2013 – 11:47 amReplyCancel

  • Kerri - Okay first I have to admit to the fact that when I first read Kristi’s prompt I thought it was “chloroform” you were talking about. You know the thing that serial killers use to put their victims to sleep? And thought to myself, what the heck????

    As a mom of the undiagnosed I totally get this post, now that it is chlorophyll and not chloroform, sometimes we have to just accept it is what it is. Boo definitely adds color to our lives. So I love this analogy! Thank you for joining Kristi in her quest to find Our WorldJune 12, 2013 – 12:07 pmReplyCancel

  • catherine gacad - What an introspective post. I’ve always believed saying “I don’t know” is a very courageous and honest thing to say, especially since I can only fit so much into my tiny brain. There is only so much we can understand in this complex world and I love how a lot of times it is just the way it is.June 12, 2013 – 12:09 pmReplyCancel

  • Anita @ Losing Austin - I was very intrigued by the post name, but it all makes sense- and so beautifully so. Now I’m intrigued enough to go become a regular on ‘Ain’t No Rollercoaster’ too.

    Thanks for sharing. <3June 12, 2013 – 1:08 pmReplyCancel

  • Considerer - Gorgeous post (and pictures) and YAY for Our Land.

    The thing which blows my mind is that all things we see are the inverse colour of what we see, because that’s the colour they reflect (making them visible) and absorb all the other wavelengths.

    I also love that most plants used to be red or purple (millions of years ago)

    And that you can get black plants (like some of the ornamental grasses in my garden, but no – you wouldn’t want a world of them)June 12, 2013 – 1:23 pmReplyCancel

  • just JENNIFER - I do love a good analogy! It’s funny that your blog is called “Ain’t No Roller Coaster” since my blog theme is “my life is a roller coaster”. But I think I know what you mean. 🙂June 12, 2013 – 1:45 pmReplyCancel

  • Julie Sparks - OMG, I am dying laughing at Kerri here because truth be told that was my first thought too. Chloroform, Chlorophyll, it all sounds the same sometimes! ;-/June 12, 2013 – 1:47 pmReplyCancel

  • Keith DuBarry - Wow, this is amazing! Great analogy and great post. Sometimes, things are just the way they are and it’s up to us to understand and live with it 🙂 Glad to see you’re doing well with this!June 12, 2013 – 1:57 pmReplyCancel

  • Dana - That’s just the way it is – that can be hard to accept, but you are so right. We always want answers, but sometimes that is the answer. Wonderful post, Tatum – thanks for sharing!June 12, 2013 – 2:32 pmReplyCancel

  • Stephanie @ Mommy, for real. - This was AMAZING. I loved the analogy- random or not, it was absolutely brilliant. Cheers to both of you, Tatum and Kristi, for another fantastic piece of writing and beautiful window into life for this series. I loved it. And you’re right, Kristi, I’m totally hooked now!June 12, 2013 – 3:22 pmReplyCancel

  • Joy - What an absolutely beautiful analogy, Tatum! Another wonderful post from you, my dear friend! I really love it and as of now I will always see Sunny as my beautifully green leaf, making my world so much more colourful! <3June 12, 2013 – 3:36 pmReplyCancel

  • Diane - This article was like a cool drink of water on a hot day. I literally drank it in. LOVED IT!! Loved the analogy. I don’t want to live in a dark world, either. I want my chlorophyll. I want my special people who are so anxious to be in this amazing world that they arrive early. I am looking at ours right now as she scurries about the floor. Some day, she, too will walk. And talk. But for now, she brightens our lives, just by being.June 12, 2013 – 3:40 pmReplyCancel

  • Emily - Yes, I am hooked..I love Tatum’s writing and train of thought (she calls it “random” I call it “creative!”). It’s funny because when she began writing this post about her first son, I immediately related because I too have a boy who used to always ask “why.” I still sometimes refer to him (to myself, not to others) as “the boys of 1,000 questions). He’s now 15 and still prefers to ask questions as a way to start a conversation.Anyway, great guest post and I also enjoyed the refresher course on chlorophyll! 🙂June 12, 2013 – 3:50 pmReplyCancel

  • Tatum - Kristi has created the best community! Thank you for all the supportive comments, everyone. I’ve peaked at all of your blogs and look forward to following you all, if I’m not already.

    The chloroform comments cracked me up and I guess I’ll suggest that in the future we title it “Why Special Needs is Like Chlorophyll (which is nothing like chloroform)” haha.

    Considerer, the brain is a crazy thing isn’t it?

    Emily…so your saying this isn’t a stage that’s outgrown? Man, I’m going to be smart by the time Kellen is 15!

    Diane, your cool drink of water analogy, warmed my heart. Thank you! Your little scurrier, sounds perfect to me.

    Anita, thanks for stopping by, I look forward to hearing from you in the future.June 12, 2013 – 6:45 pmReplyCancel

  • Kristi Campbell - Tatum,
    You’re right. I really am lucky to have found so many amazing bloggers on this journey. I’m so happy that you let me share your words here today and hope that you find some great bloggers today that will follow your beautiful journey with Kellen and Owen through this lovely green (not chloroform-filled) world of ours!June 12, 2013 – 7:31 pmReplyCancel

  • Melissa@Home on Deranged - Excellent analogy, and I think I will adopt, “It’s just the way it is.” I think as humans, we don’t really like that answer because we don’t like mystery as much as we think we do, but at some point in your life you really do realize the truth of it.
    Thank you, Tatum, for sharing (and educating – I’d forgotten Plants 101), and thank you, Kristi, for continuing to show us the path.June 13, 2013 – 1:46 amReplyCancel

  • Kimberly - This is such a beautiful analogy. Thank you so much for giving me a little perspective about raising a child with special needs. He is a beautiful boy:)June 13, 2013 – 6:52 amReplyCancel

  • Yvonne - This is a beautiful post, and as others have said, a lovely analogy. I am also thankful chlorophyll is green – a black world would be far too dark! And your analogy does make it so clear why we also need people like Owen to add beauty to the world.June 14, 2013 – 10:19 amReplyCancel

  • Deb @ Urban Moo Cow - I agree with Rachel – truly an inspired analogy and oh, so true. There are so many examples of where efficiency makes things less beautiful. I’m heading over there to follow you!June 16, 2013 – 10:07 pmReplyCancel

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