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.



Yesterday during the worship service at church Charlie thrust her little finger in the air and said, “THAT came out of MY NOSE!”

Watch me sink into the pew just a bit and pretend that didn’t just happen.

Pierce is fully pee-trained. It’s going fabulously. (Well, except for when Daddy gave him chocolate milk and didn’t provide ample opportunity to dispose of said chocolate milk. But two accidents after a week of none makes me think it’s Daddy’s fault. That’s my story, anyhow.)

Pierce isn’t poop-trained. How to get that under control? If he happens to be on the potty, it lands there. If he isn’t, it lands wherever he is. He’s still wearing a diaper when we leave the house for fear of another episode similar to the one at the eye doctor’s. He’s the first kid of mine that doesn’t take the diaper as a free pass. He still uses the toilet and not the diaper. Unless he poops. Anyone?

Poison ivy. Oh. My. Word. Me. Eden. LIBERTY. It’s bad. So, so bad.

Something died in the woods. I can’t find it. But oh my, I can smell it. I told the kids I’d pay cash for whoever located the source of the “something died in the woods” smell so that I could dispose of it away from my bedroom window. It’s still MIA, but I picked a lot of ticks off children after the investigation. Blaine laughed at my dead-animal finding technique, enlisting the kids’ help, but they were driven by money. At one point, I heard, “Bring clothespins!” I told you it stunk.

I kept smelling the dead something in the kitchen, but after thorough investigation, I found someone had spilled milk inside each and every one of my thirteen metal mixing bowls. After a few days of 90+ degrees, curdled milk smells a bit like death. That after a gallon of expired milk I’d planned – but neglected to follow through with – to make pancakes with exploded in the garage fridge.

Between Pierce’s inability to inform me he needs to use the toilet, the dead animal in the woods, and rotten milk, I’m not sure my stomach can handle it. It’s been a week.

Today, we’re back to school for our on-week. Sterling found out and said, “I thought we got a week off?” Uh yeah, I know dude. That week went really fast.


Sharilyn said...

Maybe the dead animal is a mouse inside your wall. It will eventually be fully decayed and the smell will dissipate. Or under the house.

Adrienne F said...

We've investigated as much as possible - it's definitely coming from the trees north of the house. The underbrush is so thick, we can't find it though! I know it'll rot away eventually. But in the meantime - oh my!

Alexandra N said...

The summer heat that is making it stink so bad will at least speed the decaying process up! Maybe it will be gone soon! Sorry Sis! Maybe you should burn some smelly candles. -Or you could bake some of those wonderful things that I keep emailing to you! -and then the smell will turn your stomach enough that maybe you won't actually eat the baked deliciousness! :)

Adrienne F said...

That would dieting at it's finest, I'm thinking. It's warming up again... this I know without even looking at the thermometer. I'm considering leaving the place this afternoon, just to get away from it for a bit. How can such a big stink be incognito when I searched for it?!