Messy, imperfect motherhood

I'm thankful to be out of town this weekend visiting one of my dearest friends and watching thoroughbreds race at Keeneland, one of the most beautiful places and events Kentucky has to offer. But I thought I'd celebrate the weekend with by sharing some of my crazy, real week. 

Quite some time ago, I decided I didn't want to complain on Facebook. I didn't want my status updates to continually express that it was a hard day. Now, I often ask for advice because motherhood is the hardest job I've ever had. And I've recently let it be known I'm boycotting Walmart because of unhelpful, bad attitudes in the oil change department ... two days in a row!

But, thing is, life isn't perfect. Yes, Facebook captures more highlights than complaints, but, honestly, I'm happier and more content when I don't complain. And, you know, when you choose between two pictures, you're gonna go with the one that's more flattering. That doesn't mean my life or the people in it are perfect.

So I thought I'd share some stories from this week with you, just like I did in text messages to a few of my closest friends. Us mommas need to vent and share and laugh because motherhood is an adventure.

We lost our son in our own house. 
Yes, seriously. It was about 10:30 p.m. Monday night. Greg and I were finishing up watching the National Championship game in our basement and heard the pitter-patter of little feet running across the laminate flooring. We walked upstairs because we didn't need to see Louisville celebrating anyway and we couldn't find Ben. He wasn't in our room. He wasn't in the kitchen. Or either of the bathrooms. He wasn't in his old room. He wasn't in his new room. He wasn't under his bed. He wasn't in the living room. And he wasn't in his sister's room.

The doors were locked. The house was quiet.

Turns out he was in the living room. In the corner of the couch. With a blanket over him. Silent as a mouse. Greg moved the blanket and Ben grinned and told us he was playing Hide-and-Seek.

Here's what you need to know: Ben used to be the worse Hide-and-Seek player. Ever. He'd tell you where he was. He'd make so much noise moving around that you'd have to look other places knowing he wasn't actually there just to make him think you were playing along.

Well, he's become the champion Hide-and-Seek player. So much so, we lost him. Then we found him. And sent him back to bed.

I thought our stroller was stolen.
But, really, my son just decided it needed to go on a stroll. He pushed it into the drainage creek in our front yard.

Thankfully, there wasn't much water in it Wednesday -- the day before it rained for many, many hours. My friend Courtney helped me rescue it. I sprayed it off and then laid it out to dry.

Before it could get dry, the rain drenched it again, but that one isn't Ben's fault.

I spilled milk ... 
... between the stove and the counter.

You know, that little sliver of space where crumbs go to rot? Yep. There. So Greg helped me move the stove out from the wall so I could clean up the spilled milk. I didn't cry. But I didn't want to let that leave an unwanted smell in our kitchen. While I was back there, I wiped off and swept up so many other unintentional leftovers from meals long, long ago.

A baseball loosened Cate's tooth.
She's been losing teeth, like kindergartners do. The remaining front tooth was loose, but at Cate's first t-ball practice Wednesday evening, a baseball bounced up and hit her mouth, loosening the tooth anymore. Oh, and it bled some too. She wiggled it, thinking she'd just pull it out there. I convinced her to just go play, reminding her it would come out when it was ready.

About 12 minutes later, she walked over and smiled a more-toothless grin. And Coach Daddy handed me the tooth. That was No. 5. And it's not the first one she's lost while playing a sport. Although the first wasn't a direct result of the sport.


Ben peed all over a restaurant floor.
We walked into Culver's after Cate's t-ball practice. She was still saying words that sounded funny because her tongue doesn't have any front teeth to press up against. I figured out what everyone wanted to eat and started ordering when I heard Ben say, "I have to pee," and grab his crotch. I mumbled, "Just a minute."

And then he peed. A lot of pee. In a pool around his feet. On a restaurant floor.

Greg swept him up and carried him the bathroom, creating a trail of pee across the floor. The restaurant floor. I finished ordering, got Cate settled at a table, and then realized I couldn't really help get dry clothes from the minivan because Greg had the key.

Knocking on the door didn't really cross my mind, but calling and texting did. Unfortunately, I had his phone in my purse because t-ball coaches don't need extraneous things like phones in their pockets.

And just one last note: If you or one of your friends is going sneak a mini Cadbury Creme Egg {the last one!}, you should discard the evidence. And, honestly, I have no idea which kid in my life I'm talking to. Both my own and a friend were in the kitchen unsupervised at different times Wednesday.

Yes, Wednesday, the same day I spilled milk, thought my stroller was stolen, held my daughter's fifth tooth in my hand at t-ball practice, and apologized to the distraught cashier because my son peed all over the floor.

I laughed this week more than I yelled. Yes, I found relief when I could sit down after my kids were in bed each night. I took some deep breaths, talked to my husband, rested, and woke back up the next morning to do it all over again.

Some days are messy, like that milk beside my stove or the pee on the restaurant floor. Other days are adventures, like the stroller's ride in the ditch. Some days are a combination of both. We haven't even talked about my son's poison ivy in his ear and on his boy part or the oral steroid that cleared him up but put him a little on edge. And I wrote all of this before I waited for 3 1/2 hours to see my doctor only to have her tell me I actually needed to go back to the doctor in Louisville. Really. Seriously. Meanwhile, while I sat in an exam room for hours, there was an enormous miscommunication about carpool from school so I had to track down my daughter via text messages with my husband, who made a phone call.

My husband and best friends get my venting moments so all of Facebook doesn't have to hear. My life is real. I have lots and lots of good days and plenty of hard ones. It's a hard lesson for me to learn, but laughing over the mishaps in life really is better than crying over spilled milk.

What story {or stories, perhaps!} do you have to share about your week?
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Life is like a parade ...

You know your child has lived her whole little life in Murray when she sees two police cars go through an intersection with their lights and sirens on and says, "There's a parade?"

"No, honey, they are going to help someone." I say. It's silly of me to think the conversation will end here.

And, so, the 3-year-old concludes, "They go throw them candy."

Right.

But, you know, not all parade experiences with Cate have been pleasant. I say "experiences" [plural] because Murray seriously loves its parades. Most any holiday is cause of celebration with a parade. Fourth of July. MSU Homecoming. Veterans' Day. Christmas. So, really, Murray gives us plenty of chances to redeem the one parade horror.

From last year's parades alone ...


Then there was 2008 ...

loosening my grip

OK, God, I get it. Seriously. I am not in control.

Take last weekend. College friend Jeff, his wife Cherisse and their 4-week-old baby girl stayed with us while they were away from their Louisville home on a work-related road trip. We decided on Chinese for lunch Saturday and headed toward the restaurant. We were in our mini van and they were behind us in their car. We turned left onto the access road near the restaurant and they turned left too ... only there wasn't enough room for them to make it without getting hit in the backside by a pick-up truck. Everybody was OK, and the 4-week-old baby went on back to sleep. Jeff's car's bumper was thrown across the field.

Momma and baby were sitting in my van while the guys talked to the guy who was driving the truck. Along comes a bike rider on the sidewalk, and he just fell off. Like he had a heart attack or something. He just fell over. And laid there, moaning. So the guys went to help, and quickly noticed [rather, smelled ...] the problem. The bicyclist was drunk. And he even puked to prove it.

The police car and ambulance showed up soon after. We assured them the bicyclist's accident was unrelated to Jeff's back bumper being thrown across the field. The ambulance took the drunk biker to the hospital and we took Cherisse to the ER while Jeff finished dealing with the accident report and the uninsured driver who hit him.

So much for Chinese food.

Cherisse checked out fine and just had some soreness. They changed their road trip plans and headed back to Louisville. Meanwhile, we canceled some plans with friends because we weren't going to be able to leave as early as we had originally planned. But then we ended up meeting up with the same friends and doing the same thing we had planned, just later than we planned.

Yes, I know You have plans for me. Plans to prosper. And not to harm me. You know, sometimes I just think I'm a really great planner. I think about lots of details. But, thing is, You think about even more details. You see an even bigger picture.
_______
So I organized my friend Sarah [you know, Davey's mom ...] a birthday lunch Thursday at a local restaurant that is known for its delicious bread, fabulous desserts [free for the birthday girl!] and lunch-time crowds. But I made a reservation: 12 chairs, plus three highchairs. Apparently, I was confusing because when I got there I only saw nine chairs and three highchairs. And not much room to add any more.

My eight other friends and the few kids that were joining us [some were home with sitters] started showing up, and I was stressing out that not everyone was going to have a place to sit. Courtney's kids were the ones that didn't really have a seat until we squeezed in extra chairs to our already too-tight table arrangement.

Meanwhile, I was noticing that Ben in his high chair was sitting awfully close to the glass table top. So I moved him back a little. The waitress told me when the ladies at the neighboring table finished eating, she would move their table to the end of ours so we could spread out. Good deal.

Then Cate needed to go the bathroom. Someone was already occupying the single-stall bathroom, so we stood there for a minute before I decided to go back and re-arrange the chairs so the three kids could sit at the table that was going to be added so us adults could talk during our lunch. The waitress recruited table-moving help from a bus boy, who was carrying a tub of dirty dishes, which he ended up dropping. So then he had to sweep up the broken dishes while the waitress attempted to get us situated.

But there was a lot going on, and my plan got confused with my friend's plan and I ended up at the far end of the newly added table, feeling very removed from my friends. At least I was sitting next to birthday girl Sarah, so I wasn't completely lacking adult interaction.

Remember I moved Ben away from the table so he wouldn't hit his head or attempt to chew on the glass table top? Yeah, well, in the the shuffling of people and tables, he ended up closer to the edge ... a fact I didn't realize until he was screaming after apparently hitting his face, more specifically his eye, on the edge of the table. I can't remember when my food came, but I remember sitting there with a screaming baby -- whose eye was swollen and red, thankfully, only on the outside -- and a salad in front of me. But no fork.

Cate was talking to me about how her yogurt was green and pink mixed [She often talks about flavors in terms of colors. This, for instance, was watermelon.] but how she loved just pink yogurt, all while spooning the green in her mouth. She wanted my full attention while she shared her thoughts on yogurt. Yet her brother was still screaming. Different waitresses asked if Ben needed ice. I really just wanted one of them to bring me a fork.

Apparently two of my friends tried to offer assistance, but they seemed so far away at one of our original tables that I couldn't here them. But instead of saying that nicely, I said, "I can't hear you. I'm stuck down here with the kids." I'm sure my tone was frustrated and smart aleck. But it was the truth. Not communicated with any love.

I couldn't hear anything but Ben crying.

So I decided to just pack up my kids and untouched salad. I could eat at home after giving my son some Tylenol for his probably throbbing head. Tylenol might have been good for me at this point too.

A couple friends had already slipped out because they had to get back to work or relieve the husband watching the kids. Apparently when I started packing up, I killed the party and everyone else started gathering their belongings. I paid for my food, reminded Sarah to get her free dessert to go, and headed to my car, holding my crying son, carrying my diaper bag on my shoulder, holding the Styrofoam box of my untouched salad and a smaller version containing Cate's partially eaten lunch, and nudging Cate forward through the crowded restaurant. I just wanted to get to my car.

I loaded the kids in the car, turned on the air, and cried. Jaclyn came to my window and we talked. She understood how I was feeling and reminded me that every moment of our lives is not like this, something I should know because, well, I hadn't been that stressed out since my friends and I decided last month that taking our combined six children to the public pool was a good idea. Although that was more personal stress and not so much me feeling bad I had organized chaos for my friend's birthday! I had planned to run errands, but I ended up accepting Jaclyn's invitation to swim [thankfully, not at the public pool, but at a friend's house] with her. Cate liked that idea better too.

So we went home, where I soothed the banged-up Ben and then ate my lunch while the kids laughed on the safety of the carpeted nursery. I then gathered floats and towels, changed people into their swimwear, and drowned my stress in a pool filled with water slightly cooler than bath water.

I soaked up some sun while Ben napped and Cate swam. I texted with my friend, who absorbed my harsh tone, reminded me that friendship is more valuable than a moment of insensitivity, and even left flowers on my doorstep in hopes my afternoon would improve. I also thought about how next time I'm planning a lunchtime birthday party, I'll to order carry-out food and invite my friends over to my house.

You comfort me. I know this. You always have room for anyone at your table. And You give me everything I need. There will be bumps and bruises along the way, but You sustain us so we can live and learn that You are indeed the ultimate planner and care-giver.
_______
Knowing we had plans to spend Saturday at Kentucky Lake with out-of-town friends Katie and Aaron and their 9-month-old Ben, finding two infant life jackets was on my to-do list. After my chaotic lunch on Thursday, I ended up waiting until Friday to venture into Walmart to evaluate the life jacket situation.

The situation: One infant life jacket in stock. And it happened to be hot pink.

Hmmm ... Maybe I could just borrow something from my well-equipped sister-in-law? So I finished shopping at Walmart and then moved on to Kroger, where I prefer to buy my groceries. In the Kroger parking lot, I realize I should call Angela to discuss the life jacket situation. Turns out, she has one, which she didn't mind letting me borrow. I decide that I'll have to drag my kids back into Walmart so I can buy the pink one. I mean, the babies have to life jackets on the boat. And a boat ride is worth putting my son in a hot pink life jacket.

Grocery shop. Take ice cream, milk and other refrigerated items home so they don't melt in the sweltering, humid Kentucky air. Go back to Walmart. Go to Angela's.

Two life jackets. Check.

You provide, I know. Sometimes it just involves two trips to Walmart.
_______
Later that day, Greg texted me: "Pontoon boat has bad gas leak and is in the shop til next week. Jet skis will still be there tomorrow thought."

Oh, OK. I can deal with jet skis. Although I guess now I may not need to pink life jacket for my son.

Katie and Aaron get here later than expected Friday night. We decide Saturday morning to go on to the lake, nobody thinking that Katie probably can't ride jet skis because she's 13 weeks pregnant. We got there and I couldn't find the key ... until I realized many minutes later that I overlooked where I was supposed to be looking. We had lunch and got the jet skis in the water. While the babies were napping, Greg drove the jet ski and pulled me on a tube. It was some of the best tubing I've experienced, despite the choppy water.

Later we all decided to get in the water and I was going to take Cate on a jet ski ride after convincing her it was like riding a go-cart on the water. She wanted to help me drive. So while everyone else was swimming off the neighbors' dock, I went to fetch the jet ski. I noticed the floating dock that secures the jet ski and is attached to the main dock wasn't attached like I expected, but I figured it was attached another way. I got the jet ski unhooked and was trying to push its back end into the water, when I noticed I was floating away ... on the dock, with the jet ski.

I waved my hands and yelled that I needed help. Greg waved back. Then they realized I wasn't just being friendly. Leaving Katie and her baby Ben, Aaron and Greg [toting Cate and Ben] came to my rescue. Greg asked what to do with Ben, and I said strap him in the infant carrier and sit him somewhere level. So while he was taking care of our children, I decided to get off the floating dock that was floating farther away, and I pulled it [using the string of the jet ski] back to the dock to which it was supposed to attached. I started investigating the problem and saw that three of the four metal poles that were supposed to hold the additional docks were broken from the pull of the floating docks with the lake's current. Not good.

Greg and Aaron worked on securing the docks while I rode over to help Katie, who was tired of treading water and walking on rocks with her baby in a float. I didn't realize the water was as shallow as it was near her until it was too late ... and I'd driven the jet ski too close. I killed the motor, so I couldn't go farther into the rocks and so I wouldn't create lots of waves near my 9-month-old friend. Turns out, I really killed the motor. Like it wouldn't start. So I hopped of that, and pulled it to the neighboring dock [not the one at the house we were using] by the rope that I had already used to rescue the escaping dock. I tied it up, and Aaron ended up diagnosing the troubling rocks stuck in the jet ski and helping Greg get both the working and non-working jet skis back to the trailer. We were calling it a day on the lake.

We played cards inside the lake house while kids slept, talked about dinner, decided to treat ourselves to Mexican on the way home, enjoyed said Mexican food, played Settlers of Catan and enjoyed fresh blackberry cobbler. The lake day that wasn't meant to be ended on a better note. And I only could laugh thinking back on our day.

Thank you, God, for laughter. Your joy comes even when we don't expect it. Your mercy keeps us afloat when we're drifting away. Your grace reminds us that we're human. You alone can all your plans. And I'm happy to be along for the ride.

jump, jump ... sleep

This morning while I was working on the computer, Ben was jumping. And jumping. And giggling. And then I didn't hear him anymore ...

Obviously, Ben was tired of jumping.

Gran-Gran kept the kids while I worked at the office this morning. When she was telling me about what Cate and Ben did while I was gone, she started to say, "And Ben was jumping, then all the sudden ..."

"He fell asleep." I finished her sentence.

As I was telling her he did it earlier, she was already reaching for her iPhone to show me the picture. This time -- making it twice before lunch -- he was leaned back, which seems even more uncomfortable. Then I showed her my photo [similar to the one above] from my iPhone. Ah, technology, thanks for helping us capture our kids' funny moments.

sneaky, sneaky ...

All 28 Taylors were gathered in a circle to pray on Christmas Day, when Aunt Jennifer noticed Cate tugging on her pants and asked, "Does Cate need to use the bathroom?" I saw Cate pulling on her pockets and asked what she had in there.

"Chocolate." No hesitation. No shame.

Cate had found Nana's bowl of Hershey kisses. And stored some up for later.

What I didn't know until cousin Alyssa posted some pictures on Facebook was that Cate sampled a few kisses before she collected them in her pockets. Stephen (Alyssa's husband) caught her ...

[Admittedly, I wasn't surprised Cate had sampled some chocolate. I just didn't have proof!]

Thursday's Thought:Funny Friends

Putting stickers on their faces was their idea. [That's Cate with her friends Noah and Emma.] Kids are funny when they choose their entertainment.

'Where did Daddy's hairs go?'

I've been cutting Greg's hair for years. For those of you familiar with hair clippers, I use the one guard all over. No problem. Easy enough.

Until the one guard decides it doesn't want to stay on the clippers. Yep, it fell off while I was cutting, and I didn't notice ... until one section across the top of Greg's head was shorter [much shorter] than the rest. I didn't panic. I just put the one guard back on, thinking maybe I could smooth it all out later and nobody would notice. Then it fell off again. I noticed quicker the second time, but I had already cut a smaller section on the side of his head. No smoothing it out at this point, especially because the one guard fell off a third time.

I ended up just cutting all of his head with no guard. Yeah, that's short. I told him it was a military haircut in honor of Veteran's Day. Thankfully, he was a good sport, but I still felt terrible. At least we both laughed about it.

Then Cate woke up, and the first thing out of her mouth was: "Where did Daddy's hairs go?" From another room, I heard Greg say, "Ask your mom."

So she did. I told her I cut his hair a little too short. Obviously.

Greg asked me to put new hair clippers on the Wal-Mart list. [I do appreciate that he blames the clippers and not the barber.] I did, but I told him there was no hurry to buy new clippers because it's going to be quite some time before he needs another haircut.

Laundry Time!

Cate told us last night "night, night" as she climbed into the laundry basket. She even wanted her Daddy get her blanket for her once she got in. Who knew chores could be so much fun!

Then she noticed my underwear ...

... I have no idea why she's sticking her tongue out or why she fled to the kitchen. Regardless, Greg + I were cracking up, and he even realized it was picture worthy!

She cracks me up!

I know Cate's my daughter, but, goodness, she's entertaining!

First, this morning ...

She used my book light to lead herself into this cubby in the kitchen. She managed to get her whole body in there.

Then, we went to Kroger.


I want to say first that we go to Kroger at least once a week, if not twice. Usually we talk about the larger-than-life horse that is painted on the front window as we walk in. (You know, Murray State pride ...) Then we talk about various foods as I put them in the cart. Sometimes she holds items or eats Goldfish.

But today as soon as we walked in, she noticed this cart with car attached to the front. With great enthusiasm, she said, "I drive. I drive." Sure. I'd never thought to put her in it, but that was fine. So, she gets in and off we go ... right into the apple display. Apparently mama's driving wasn't so effective. Once I get back on course, I run her right into the standing dispenser of produce bags and I get it stuck on the cart.

I started thinking that maybe letting Cate "drive" the car wasn't a good idea because it was apparently really complicating my driving! Probably in effort to keep people from watching me run into more things, I figured out that if I pushed down on the handle bar while I pushed the car forward, I could off-set her weight in the front. I noticed the wheels closest to me weren't touching because there wasn't much in the basket yet. So, I solved the problem, kept the wheels on the ground, and proceeded forward in a much safer fashion.

Cate obviously was pleased with the outing because I lost count of how many times she said: "I driving. I driving." Yes, you're driving.

And a trip to the grocery will never be the same again.

A beach baby, perhaps?!

I caught this moment while Cate was waiting for Daddy to give her a bath tonight. She got that hand towel down from the sink herself + decided to spread it out on the tile.

Seriously funny ...

I got this on an e-mail today. I've actually seen it before, but it still makes me laugh ...

Read it out loud to yourself and imagine how the conversation went:

Customer: I would like to order a cake for a going away party this week.

Wal-mart employee: What you want on the cake?

Customer: "Best Wishes Suzanne" and underneath that "We will miss you."

It's also funny because when Greg + I moved from Lexington, our friends got us a cake that said "Will Miss You." Again, the store employee misunderstood.

The entertainment that is GOGGLES

Cate found a pair of swimming goggles in Pierson's room when we were over at the Kerrick's house Saturday evening. They were great entertainment ... for her and us!


She kept taking them off, then wanting them back on. She even tried to dance ...


Her moves reminded me of someone wearing those goggles that simulate being drunk.

Dancin'

This is how Cate dances ...



At first she doesn't realize I'm recording, then she does. But then the music stops, so turning it back on is a priority!

Going once ...

We were out driving near Kentucky Lake last week because Greg and his parents wanted to check out some lots that were going to be auctioned off Saturday. Turns out only two of them were actually lake front, and to build a house there would have taken a lot of clearing tree and leveling the ground. Then to get to the lake would require lots of steps down. Anyway, the point is ... After eating fish at a lake-front restaurant, we saw an auction sign. With a real estate investment company, these signs turn our heads. So we turned down a side road, although I hesitate to call it a road, to check out the soon-to-be auctioned property.

That's it above.

Now, like I said, I hesitate to call the road a road. See that grass that looks shorter than the other grass at the bottom of the picture? Yeah, that's the road. Perhaps it's more like a path. Just to this house. No other houses are on this road, I mean path.

And I think house might be generous too. Look at it, if you can even see it through the growing vegetation. Wow.

So Greg's mom comments on the stone that covered part of the house, again, a term I use lightly. She was trying to highlight a good quality. Well, as we drove away one of the guys noticed that the stone was chipping away on the side. Turns out it wasn't even real stone. Just a facade.

A facade on a wanna-be house on a path. Near the lake. But not on the lake. Not even a distant view.

If I was going to point out one positive quality about this structure (that's a better word for it, I think ...), it would have to be that it's within walking distance of the lake-front restaurant that I much enjoyed.

Ah, the memories ...

I realize I've taken better pictures, in terms of quality, but I thought you'd like to see what my daughter wanted to do at the hospital today when we were visiting Norah. Yep, she wanted to be in the plastic bassinet thing. I guess it brought back memories!

Nice to meet you, buddy!

While we were shopping, some of the funniest moments of the weekend happened. Here's how it went:

MILLA: (While pointing at a mannequin with no head who was modeling spring fashions at Old Navy ...) I want to say, "Nice to meet you, buddy."

GRANDMA: Well, get in the cart, and we'll go over there.

MILLA: (While shaking the hands of three mannequins standing next to each other at the front of the store ...) Nice to meet you, buddy. Nice to meet you, buddy. Nice to meet you, buddy.

Meanwhile, Cassie and I wander to the back of the store to look at baby clothes. Then later, while we were in the clearance section of women's clothes, Milla decides it's time for more handshaking.

MILLA: I want to go find more Nice-to-meet-you Buddies.

GRANDMA: OK, let's go.

MILLA: There's one. (While turning toward it ...) Nice to meet you, buddy.

OK. That repeated a few times, and then we checked out. On to Kohl's ...

After looking at some stuffed animals at the front of the store and persuading Milla to sit in the stroller, we were walking toward the back of the store because Grandma needed a picture frame ...

MILLA: (Noticing a mannequin ...) Hey, grandma, those women have heads!

There was much laughter. Apparently, Milla was so excited about the complete mannequin that she didn't want to shake her hand and say, "Nice to meet you, buddy."

Hey, sports fans!

I know not all of you are sports fans, but if you are ... Do you notice anything on my grocery list?


Greg pointed out that if you read the two words on the left you have a basketball player's name and not just two items I need to purchase next time I'm at the grocery.
(He noticed this BEFORE I added "sliced cheese," but, hey, my camera was downstairs and I didn't want to forget I needed sliced cheese!)

Anyway, ironically enough, I wrote a story about O.J. Mayo in January 2002 when I worked at The Associated Press and he was just a seventh-grader at Rose Hill Christian in Ashland, Ky., not a kid in college just waiting to go pro, like he is now.

And, now for you non-sports fans ... Isn't the grocery list paper cute? It's a magnetic pad Greg got for free when he bought marketing material from VistaPrint.com. I have cute address labels too!