Tuesday, March 15, 2011

In the Mail

opOur application to Children's Hope International is in the mail!!!

I wasn't going to blog about it, but then it became an adventure, so I thought I would let you all laugh with (at) me.

I had to include 7 non-professional pictures with our application. Two of just me and Scott, one of the girls, one of the outside of our house, and three of different rooms inside our house.

The only of those that was easy was the one of the outside of our house, because I already had one saved on the computer.

Apparently Scott and I hardly EVER take pictures of just the two of us. I had to scrounge around forever to find two. The first is actually one of my favorites from Meredith's wedding.

The second one that I had to resign myself to sending in is me big and pregnant with fat face. And don't try to tell me that I don't look fat. Clearly there is an extra layer of padding encircling my face.

I thought finding a picture of the girls together would be easy. But heaven forbid they both try to look normal and smiling in a picture at the same time. I would have sent in the one that's at the top of the blog, but the incredibly talented Sarah Franczyk took it this fall when we did family photos (i.e. it's professional). So here's the one I picked. 2-year-olds aren't expected to look normal in pictures, right?

I won't post the ones of our house, but I will let you know that it took me two days in order to have three rooms clean enough to photograph. I'm not a house keeper, it's not my gift. Besides, when you have 2 kids I don't think your house should be clean all the time. Unless you're my sister Mel, and then you have some freakish ability to always have your house spotless despite utter chaos (she has 4 boys ages 6 and under).

Anyway, so onto my story. I had to run up to Walgreens this morning to pick up these pictures. So, Evelyn and I were all ready to go so that as soon as Bella woke up from her morning snooze we could run over there, pick up the pictures, have my passport photo taken, and pick up a big envelope to mail the application in.

We make it up there, I get my photo taken, and tell the employee that I am going to go pick up a couple things then come back to pick up the finished product. When I return he hasn't finished it. Why you ask? Because apparently it is more important to sell energy drinks to 3 different Walgreens employees than it is to finish my passport photo. Not bitter. Just impatient.

We finally get home with all our things in hand and I see the mailman making the rounds on our street. I rush inside, double check the pictures, put everything in the envelope, put three stamps on it just in case, tape it shut, and run back out.... he's moved on to the next block. I also have to add that while I'm doing this Evelyn is screaming, "Ah-belle trying to eat my brown poopy!!!" No joke. I tell her to move it so that Bella can't reach it. Rockstar mom moment, I know. So Evelyn is carrying her entire potty seat (full of both the brown and yellow variety) around the dining room to keep it away from Bella and I am trying to not envision her tripping and spilling it all over.

Back to the mailman. I can see him halfway down our block. So what do I do? I run after him. I'm yelling, "SIR! SIR!" No response. I persist. Finally I make it all the way down our block (I'm not a runner, so it seemed really far, ok?). I walk up to him and realize he's listening to something and now I'm REALLY hoping "he" didn't hear me. Why? Because he is a she. Oops. In my defense she had super short hair.

The application is in the mail though. And I returned to find the potty still safely in the potty seat.

The end.


  1. I love it :) Your story put a smile on my face after a trying day.

  2. HAHAHA...I can just picture it! What a great memory.

    And regarding the freak comment...Anybody can put toys and dishes away but it takes a real winner of a mom to make felt crackers. Blech.

  3. 1. That picture from my wedding of you and Scott is adoreable! Love it.
    2. Yes, you do look fat in the preggo pic. I'm sorry, as your friend I have to tell you the truth.
    3. Yes, your sister definetly inherited the clean jeans. :)