World's Worst Blogger

For the two of you who actually bother to read this blog, I have to apologize. I realize that the point of blogging is to do it on a fairly frequent basis. My twice-a-month posts aren't cutting it, I know.

Here's my vow to do better. I've been inspired by The Pioneer Woman to be all I can be as a blogger. She runs a ranch and homeschools her four kids while keeping the PW brand fresh and sassy....surely I can posts pics of my little hoodlums and say something pithy at least a few times a week.

So here I am...in my own voice. With photos to prove that I speak the truth.


In my ongoing quest to soak in all that is the Natural State before we move way up north next year, I took the Little Halls berry picking last week.

Fletcher is questioning why someone would eat a blackberry
when a perfectly fine chocolate alternative is available. 

The littles were slightly more enthusiastic.

Everett to Thomas: "Dude, we should totally jack one of these bunnies."

Last Wednesday marked the end of the t-ball season, much to the delight of Everett's two older brothers.  That's OK, Buddy. Mama will always be there for you. With a juice box.  

"Ha Ha. You didn't get any ice cream."
And I'm gonna wipe my wet, sticky hand all over you.

The arrival of summer means we are spending so much time at the neighborhood pool we should probably have our mail forwarded. As anyone who has lived in the South for more than 10 minutes will attest, it's the only way to survive June thru August.

David Hasselhoff - you got nothin.

Channeling their inner Michael Phelps. Or maybe
Johnny Depp from Willy Wonka and the Chocolate Factory.

The Little Halls are taking swimming lessons. I will have those two swimming on their own if it kills me. I've got books to read while I'm laying out, people.

Just keep swimming. Just keep swimming.

No child was injured in the filming of this lesson.
But a serious  aversion to water in the face was conquered. I'm one proud Mama.