Posts Tagged ‘Tiller’


Monday, May 27th, 2013

. . . In Tiller’s swim meet bag for tomorrow:


Nobody Even Knocked Over the Baby Jesus

Friday, December 17th, 2010

Tiller’s Christmas program was this morning at St. Bede’s. I, of course, ran completely late and didn’t get to drink any coffee before, during, or after the program. So, one part of me was all sad that it was Tiller’s last “little girl” Christmas program, and the other half was just holding on to a thread of sanity until I could find a coffee.

First of all, the 4s class came out and did some songs. (Jingle Bells and some other stuff.) Very cute. Unfortunately, by the time they are this age, they don’t really do anything wild, like start talking to their mom during the program, or start wailing when they see all the people stare at them, or accidentally knock the baby Jesus out of the cradle.

And let’s be honest: That is what we show up for.

I love her

Friday, September 10th, 2010

I watched as Tiller took off full-throttle downhill to the bus stop. Then something caught her eye in the neighbor’s yard, so she darted over to it. She bent over. Picked something up. Stood up, holding a stem with dandelion seeds at the end, then blew them as hard as she could. Watched them fall to the grass, dropped the stem, and then turned around and ran, full-throttle once again, down to meet her brother.

Busy as Hell Bee

Wednesday, April 21st, 2010

We have been spending a lot of time at the baseball fields this spring. Rollie has a game and two practices a week. And then there is tiller’s Tiny Tykes practice every Sunday. And Todd’s new job with BBDO. (Speaking of, have you seen Todd’s previous work? He has a site.)

So, what we have been doing:

Tiller rides her Razor at the park, with her buddy Drake, while Rollie plays t-ball.
Helmet. See?

This is Tills and Drake, playing on the bleachers. Remember playing on the bleachers? Much more fun than being a parent keeping kids OFF the bleachers.
Tills and Drake

This is Rollie, with Zachary (if you call him Zach, this kid will actually tell you that his name is not Zach, it’s Zachary.) His dad’s a lawyer, and I didn’t ask for permission to post his picture on the site, because I like to live life on the edge. Zachary got whacked in the eye with a bat last week, but he is okay. His dad, who did the accidentally whacking, is probably now in therapy. That’s Kevin in the middle. He is small, but a strong hitter and i love how his batting helmet kind of wears him. I am also looking forward to meeting his new twin sisters. We’ve been driving Kev to practice a lot while his mom was on bedrest. He’s a cook kid. (His dad is a chef.) He is also a cool kid.

Zachary, Kev, and Rolls

We’ve been working on Rollie’s follow-through. We pitch to him in the backyard with the whiffle ball and bat and his follow through is fine, but when he hits off the tee, he seems to be concentrating so hard on hitting the ball off the tee that he is not following through. This one was pretty good, though.

Todd dressed up as Teen Wolf.
Dicknose and MJFox

Iain was a ZZ Top guy.

And T was Rick James, Bitch.

Candy channeled Pat B.

Even Richard Simmons was there.

Can’t remember this guy’s name, but he whips it good.

Matt did the Spicolli thing.

At Shannon and Matt’s wedding shower.

We went to Hilton Head and frolicked in the very cold water.

Had an Easter egg hunt at the Salty Dog Cafe . . .

And I dragged the family to the cemetery in Savannah to visit Pop’s grave.
Pop Marker

See how happy they look? That Tiller, one thing you can say about her, she sure does like to get dragged around to visit dead folks at cemeteries. Rollie? Oh, hissing under my breath that I will pop him if he doesn’t smile for the camera.
Me and kids

But it was a beautiful day for a visit to the Cemetery, and it seemed appropriate to visit on Easter. My grandmother, her brother and sister, and my great-grandparents are all buried there also.


Dash came to visit and we spent a ton of time in the yard. Tiller played ball.
tiller ball

Rollie ran around looking like a Cecil Jr. with no shirt and wrecking his toy in the backyard.

And finally, Rollie saw a bee and freaked out.

The bee did not sting him. No bees were harmed in the photographing of this boring post.

Life Gets in the Way, But Let Me Fast Forward It For You

Monday, March 22nd, 2010

This has been my worst month of posting in years. Life has really gotten in the way. Many reasons come into play. Me training for another triathlon. Work. Lots of company, like Todd’s cousin Jenn, and my friend Honey and her family, and my mom is having surgery on her foot, and mom and dad having moved, a neighbor and i started a community website, Dekalb county board of education sucks, and I have to sometimes cook and do laundry and make beds, or at least enough so that todd won’t divorce me.

A recap in pictures (just hold your mouse over each one for the witty caption):
We had a cookout. With Ned and Nessie.
And Ned and Leelee
Lyle, Cooke, and Rollie
Rolls, Scar, and Tills
and Cooke, Rolls, Scar, and Tills
Then there was the day that Tills cut her own bangs.
I ran a daycare for like 50 kids a few days.
I took the kids and T. to see Donnie's Girlfriend's gallery opening. We did not get drunk which was disappointing.
We went to Roswell for Ev's baby shower.
Lisa Drove. I drank. And tried on wigs with jason.
They're having a baby. Better them than me!
Oh, and J. had an orgasm in Ev's parents' massage chair. (Didn't we all.)
We took the kids to see They Might Be Giants.
And then afterwards, they decided to hang out in L5P and look cool.
We all got goofy at Morelli's.
And Tiller.
Okay, Todd is just too cool in his shades to act goofy. FYI: He found'em on the escalator at the airport and pocketed them. Poser.
Then Honey came to visit and Dash made me jealous.
And we all went to the St. Patty's Day Parade and froze our asses off.
I still don't know what Storm Troopers have to do with St. Patty's, but I'm on board.
We all rode Marta and managed to get home without losing any kids, or Slade, who is part Leprechaun.
I fell in love with this little guy. Had forgotten awesomeness of baby sleeping soundly on couch while I got quietly smashed on wine.
And this one, Honey's mini-me.
And we were just as worn out as they were. . .

I guess that kind of sums it up.

Yeah, Dogwood is back. She’s back!

The Pirate Queen, and her Former Associates

Saturday, March 6th, 2010

So, I am the Pirate Queen. I know, I know. . . I should have told you all. But we don’t really talk about it.

That’s a lie. Todd finally told the kids about a year ago.

“Your Mother’s The Pirate Queen.”

I was a little miffed that he didn’t tell them i am The Bandit Queen, because i love her, but I guess Pirate Queen is pretty bitchin’ too. The kids were in awe. They scream and get that scared look when I play pirate queen. We even have an old trunk in our bedroom that belonged to my Aunt Lessie. Todd told the kids that they can’t go into the trunk because it contains a skeleton. In reality, it holds:

a couple of tees that belonged to the kids when they were babies

Love letters and crap from a couple of ex-boyfriends (guess i should get rid of them, but i think they are funny)

three old hat boxes

mardi gras beads

college diploma and cap and gown



God knows what else. (I don’t open it! There’s a skeleton in there!)

So, the other day, Tiller and I were at Jason’s Deli. The cool thing about JD is that they have both ice cream and a salad bar. I can get healthy stuff and tiller can get diabetes. Win win.

So, we are sitting there. Tiller has her ice cream cone in one hand and her potato chip in another, dipping the chips into the ice cream. Her hair makes her look like a mental patient, because she cut it herself that morning with craft scissors. I am on my iPhone, getting my ass kicked in Scrabble by Jerry Kane, which is sad, because i have like a million hours to come up with a play while Tiller, the slowest eater in the East, finishes her Ice Cream Chips.

Tiller whispers, pointing a finger over my head, her eyes HUGE in her face: “Mama.”

Me, distractedly, because how am I going to overcome the damn EIGHTY POINT WORD JERRY KANE JUST LAID ON ME? “Yes, baby?”

Tiller: “Mama, look. It’s a pirate.” Her frightened whisper catches my attention.

Me, pushing her pointing finger down to the tabletop: “Baby, it’s not nice to point.” I look over my right shoulder as a man walks past. I watch him walk to his table, his back to us, then he pulls out a chair, sits down, and his face is revealed to me as he turns to his dining partner.

He’s wearing an eye patch.

The Decemberists’ The Bandit Queen, for reference:

Tiller’s New Do

Thursday, March 4th, 2010

Yep. Tiller’s turn to butcher her own hair. I have to give her credit- it does have kind of an edgy Joan Jett look to it.

Sleeping Baby Wolverine

Tuesday, March 2nd, 2010

How I just found Tiller sleeping. That’s her headboard over to the left. Her head is over by the window on a pile of stuffed animals. This is why I liken sleeping in the same bed with her to sleeping with a baby wolverine.

Best Husband Ever

Saturday, February 27th, 2010

Woke up this morning to hear Tiller singing 12 verses of her original song, “Whole World Friends.” Then Todd whispered that he was taking the kids to Dunkin Donuts for breakfast (kind of a ritual for Todd and the kids on Saturday mornings) and then they were going on to Lowe’s for their free kids’ building seminar, and they wouldn’t be back until lunch.


What are you going to be?

Thursday, February 25th, 2010

Tiller and I were sitting on the love toilets this afternoon. (That’s what we call our Jack and Jill toilets, right by each other, but separated by a door. You can hold hands while taking a poo. Love toilets.)

Me: “What ya been doing?”
T: “I’m playing doctor with Snoopy.”
Me: “Are you going to be a Doctor when you grow up?”
T: “Maybe.”
Me: “You will have to study hard.”
T: “I will have to go to college.”
Me: “Yes, you will have to go to college and then medical college, too.”
T: “I can be anything I want to be.”
I nod my head, smiling.
Me: “Yes, you can.”

[Tiller sits there thinking, hand on fist, elbow on her knee.]

T: “Mama?”
Me: [wishing I could just read my magazine in peace.] “Yes?”
T: “What are you going to be when you grow up?”
Me: “Gosh, I don’t know. For right now, I am your Mama.”
T: “You can be anything you want to be.”
Me: “Thanks, baby.”

I think I mostly am what I want to be, but it’s nice to have her support. And it is nice that we are doing something right. She has gotten the message: She can be anything she wants to be.