Primarily written by Adrienne, a homeschooling mother of seven, ages 10 and under. She chronicles life, laughs, struggles, and lessons learned as she raises a larger-than-most sized family and tries to figure out what she's doing day by day.

With occasional posts, Alexandra, Adrienne's older sister, writes of her ranch life in Nevada and raising four sons, ages 5 and under. Life is never dull and her boys have given her some pretty awesome stories to tell.

Stick around awhile, and you're sure to laugh, nod, smile, be encouraged, and see what life is like with a big (little) family.

2.11.2010

And so life goes...

Blaine's home. Life's back to "normal". My "old" friend's visit went well. So well, we'll see them again tonight for supper. It was so fun to "reminisce" on times past.

I got a comb stuck in my hair last night. Rephrase: I had nothing to do with it. Names withheld to protect the guilty, one comb cut into many pieces and two hours and waiting for Blaine to get home and help later, my hair is intact and the comb isn't. And one small child now knows that playing with Momma's hair with a comb means combing - not pretending the comb is a curling iron. That is, if said child ever gets to play with Momma's hair ever again. And no, there are no photos. I considered taking a photo of the comb in it's 25 pieces, but didn't. And I didn't consider taking a photo of the comb hanging from my head. Laugh with me, not at me. It's definitely funnier now that I know my hair is not the two inches long it looked like it might end up being when the comb was stuck. Blaine had threats of me finding my shotgun if he laughed. To his credit, he did not. Within earshot.

My washing machine has been down and out for 5 days now. The drain isn't draining and the laundry room floods. I do laundry every day. Things are getting rather slim for pickings right about now. I'm tempted to head to my children's drawers and see what's left - since it's not gone yet, they really don't need it right? Unless the washing machine drain stops draining, that is. Then clothing, any clean clothing, sounds golden.

Off to get my children presentable before supper. If I can find anything clean.

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