this one caught me off guard

Greg and I took the boys to lunch over the weekend.

One of the those kid-friendly places that is usually a thousand decibels louder than it should be, with shirley temples being sucked down by 5-year-olds who have dried ketchup on their cheek. Still, we had fun and left with full bellies, only to have the hostess hand the kids balloons, a green one for Hayden and a blue one for Griffin.

Of course, our oldest declared he is too old for an inflated circle on a string. As we stepped outside, he let the balloon go and said, 'This is for you, Papaw Mike.' The gesture made me smile.

Not to be outdone, his younger brother followed suit, tossing his balloon to the sky and saying...

'Here you go, Michael Jackson.'

Obviously, one tugged at the heartstrings a bit more than the other.

cause saying it twice means you mean it

Good times were had by all at a dinner over the weekend with the winners who placed the highest bid during our annual charity auction.

One tiny disruption.

As we posed for this photo in the lobby of the restaurant on our way out, another patron came in and informed the hostess, also our photographer, that the cigarette butt box on the sidewalk 'is on fire.' I loved the rest of the conversation.

Hostess: You mean...fire, fire?

Man: Miss, I wouldn't be telling you if it wasn't a concern. I mean, FIRE, FIRE.

never argue with a 5-year-old

Hayden: Remember when I told you what I want for my next birthday?

Me: No, I don't. You told me something specific?

Hayden: Yessssss. You really don't remember?

Me: Honey, I don't remember you saying anything like that. Your birthday isn't till December!

Hayden: Well, I did.

Me: Okay, I just don't recall.

Hayden: Well, I told you. I did, Mom.

Me: Okay, when?

Hayden: Like...back in the 80's!

pick a bed, any bed

Another episode of Musical Beds in our home last night.

That's how it goes, with Greg and I beginning the night sleeping in our bed, and waking up in another, if not two.

Sleep is apparently underrated for us. Not that I wouldn't give anything, maybe even the dog, to change that. God love her, but darn it, we're tired. Yes, it's my fault that I stay up till almost 11 pm watching mindless shows like Real Housewives, only to get up for work a few hours later. I always start out in my cozy quarters, then somewhere between dreams and drool, I am awakened by one of the kids. If it's Hayden, he wants to crawl in bed with us, if it's our oldest, he is adamant that he won't be able to catch any more z's, so can he just turn on the tv or read a book? Funny how he never requests to sort our laundry. Might be worth being jolted out of bed for that, right?

And so we find what works best, with one kid MacGyvering his way under the covers, and one parent eventually deciding that an elbow in the back is cause for moving to a twin bed under the eyes of a Peyton Manning Fathead clinging to the wall.

The scenario last night was so scrambled that I woke up this morning in Hayden's bed, both boys in ours, and Greg downstairs in our family room on what he calls our air-mattress from heaven. It's like a hotel without the room charge.

And I'm not at risk of losing my key.

life's little nuggets

The dishwasher being emptied before I can get to it.

My husband singing 'The Shower Song,' with our youngest as he dries him off.

Milkshakes on a late summer night.

Finding my favorite shampoo on sale.

Starbucks treat receipts, which allow me to come back in the same day for a 2-dollar drink.

People magazine and the kids are asleep. Oh, and Greg's in the tub.

The kids eating their veggies before the usual reminders.

Seeing one of the boys hold a public door open for someone else.

wish I could have caught this on film

Took my ususal afternoon nap today.

Not because I'm lazy, but to catch up on the little sleep I get at night. Nothing different about today than any other. Ate lunch, set my clock to wake up before the school bus rolls down the street, and dozed off within a matter of seconds.

And then woke up in a panic.

For who knows what reason, I woke up this afternoon convinced that I had overslept for my radio show THIS MORNING. I sat up shouting, 'Oh my gosh!' and jumping to my feet, wondering all the while why the guys hadn't called me since it was now sunny and well past my first 5 am newscast. Then I looked at the clock.

2:00 pm.

Now didn't I feel silly.

kindergarten and cologne?

My youngest is now officially in kindergarten.

It's been a few weeks of non-stop questions leading up to this morning, as in 'Where will I eat lunch,' and 'What do I do if someone punches me on the bus?' You know, typical questions out of the mouths of 5-year-olds, who had a game plan should anyone mess with him on the entire ten minute bus ride.

I pity the person who even tries.

So, today was exciting for him, emotional for me. I took the day off work to capture Hayden's big-boy status on film, then came home and collected my thoughts once the bus was the size of a mere twinkie in the distance.

Here's what I learned this morning as we prepared for Hayden's first day of school:

He has clear ideas of what his hair should like. 'Not like that, Mom...like this. I want my bangs moussed up.'

He has mastered the slide-open waistband on his shorts. Here I've been doing it for him.

His teacher will get an earful about his new skater shoes, complete with skullheads. Not my choice, but the kid has an older brother. You pick your battles.

His request to wear 'manspray' threw me off guard. It was quickly denied.

He felt cool sporting his new backpack, but didn't dig the fact that it was empty, having taken his school supplies to the ice cream social the day before. So, he stuffed it with paper towels.

My worries quickly disappeared when he turned from our driveway to walk to the bus stop, announcing, 'This is gonna be awesome.'

It sure is.

it's what life is all about

I came home from the Rascal Flatts show last night to quite the party in my kitchen.

No invited guests, just my husband and two boys laughing hysterically. Laughing so hard that Greg had hiccups, watching Griffin and Hayden dance around in Harry Potter glasses that they received from a friend's birthday party.

The boys also insisted on wearing the oversized glasses inside a sporting goods store...hey, they get it honest...remember Greg and the football helmet in the drive-thru? Back to the story, the three had been fishing earlier in the evening, and somehow Griffin's hook got caught on Hayden's shorts, leaving my 5-year-old no choice but to fish in his underwear.

Better that it happened to him and not my husband. Not sure nearby families going for a walk would appreciate THAT view.

And so there stood my son in our kitchen, oblivious to the fact that he was in his skivvies, proudly describing the nine fish he caught, including the one who lost an eye when they pulled out the hook. Sure, it was past 10 o'clock and Greg hadn't thought twice about bedtime snacks, but they were having a good time. Not a care in the world. Boys being boys.

And that's what life is all about.

try to remain quiet when this happens

Went to the spa for a pedicure this week.

Picture this. They have one of those relaxation rooms, probably the closest thing to heaven, where you don't hear cell phones ringing, kids calling your name, or horns honking at you to move the minute a light turns green. By the way, the horn thing happened last week, and I heard Hayden yell from the back seat, 'Don't sass my momma!'

Good to know a 5-year-old has my back.

So I took a seat on the plush couch in the relaxation room, donning a robe and flipflops, and noticing that the woman across from me either had better biceps than my husband, or once worked for that show American Gladiators. I then poured myself a steaming cup of cinnamon tea...

And PROCEEDED TO SPILL IT ALL OVER MY LEG.

Hot. Tea. Skin.

Not a good combination. And my reaction was anything BUT relaxing.

but Regis doesn't live here

Here's the lowdown on Regis, and the co-hosting gig.

They asked for a second video, so I sent it Sunday. The Top 10 will be announced on LIVE! with Regis and Kelly Monday. You can keep sending in your comments here.

I've heard someone jumped out of a plane for their pitch tape, and that's just not going to happen on my end. I can barely fly IN a plane, without holding the hand of a stranger next to me, true story, and who knew the seatbelt actually fits over your lap while curled up in the fetal position? Peanuts? No thanks. More like valium.

At any rate, whatever the outcome, it's been fun. It's also been ALL that my 5-year-old wants to talk about, as in 'Hi, Regis!,' repeated a minimum of 20 times daily after hearing me say it on the tape. He knows he's driving me nuts, responding with 'Hi, Regis!' when I tell him it's time for a shower, or I am greeted with 'Hi, Regis!' as I bring in groceries from my car.

He smirks and bats his lashes for effect.

Or he uses it to get out of trouble. Like when he told his dad he had hairy armpits, I shot him a look, to which he responded with a grin...

'Hi, Regis!'

It's gonna be a long week.

my husband's frantic call for help

I was preparing food for the baby shower I threw yesterday in honor of my dearest friend, who is expecting twins! Then I heard my husband scream for me, and the rest is history:

Greg: Deb, get in here now!

Me: WHAT? What is it?

Greg: Ohhhh, this isn't good. This isn't good at all.

Me, running: What? What happened?

Greg: I was dusting the piano.

Me: Yeah, and?

Greg: And I sprayed it with RAID.