dirt don't hurt

I just have to tell the world, or at least anyone willing to listen: I just made the world's most delicious Brussels Sprouts!!!!! I actually had to STOP myself from eating them so that there would be some left for Thanksgiving dinner. Sometimes the little things in life, right?

By Karrie McAllister Yesterday morning I woke up early. I then proceeded to do the laundry, clean the kitchen, rearrange my daughter’s room, and vacuum under all of the beds. I also cleaned my desk (an immeasurable task in itself) and cleaned the fishbowl. And then I sat down to lunch. Now that I’ve officially reached the point in my pregnancy when I am wearing exclusively slip on shoes, it appears I’ve also conveniently reached the point when I am painfully contorting my oversized body to put Mrs. Cleaver’s house to shame. Officially, it’s called “nesting.” Unofficially, I call it “going meshuga.” The “nesting instinct” is the term used to describe women in the latter months of pregnancy when they have the uncontrollable urge to clean and organize like the Queen of England was coming over for tea. It is defined as a sudden burst of energy that comes out of nowhere and causes women who are normally exhausted from carrying around a few extra dozen pounds to turn into Mrs. Clean. Ma...

By Karrie McAllister This afternoon I will partake in my November ritual. I will don my shoes and jacket and head out to the garage. I will find my leather work gloves and put them on and push the wheelbarrow out the side door. From there I will go past the woodpile. I will go past the plants that need to be cut back. I will go down to the end my driveway and park my wheelbarrow in front of the mailbox. It is time to check the mail. Stuffed inside the little rounded metal box there will without doubt be more paper than I can safely haul back to my house without the aid of my trusty wheelbarrow. There will be a few bills from early holiday shopping and bills revealing the first cold snap of the year, but there will certainly be at least five-thousand six-hundred catalogs jammed in there. I think the mailman must have super-human muscles from lugging these things around—I know I’m getting a good set of my own just bringing them into my home. I’m also thinking that my name and addres...

I wanted to post a little something about ClubMAW, a newer site of which I am a part. It's a very nice community with lovely women, designed to be a meeting place for other lovely Mothers And Wives around the world. The site is set up into "parts of the house" divided for different discussions. For example, you can post about feeding your family in Your Kitchen. Get it? I am the MAWderator for, you guessed it, Your Back Yard, where we discuss outdoor activities and recreation, etc. Nearly anything goes. This site, www.ClubMAW.com , is just getting started. Please drop by and take a look around, and come and visit me "out back!"

I wanted to post a little something about ClubMAW, a newer site of which I am a part. It's a very nice community with lovely women, designed to be a meeting place for other lovely Mothers And Wives around the world. The site is set up into "parts of the house" divided for different discussions. For example, you can post about feeding your family in Your Kitchen. Get it? I am the MAWderator for, you guessed it, Your Back Yard, where we discuss outdoor activities and recreation, etc. Nearly anything goes. This site, www.ClubMAW.com , is just getting started. Please drop by and take a look around, and come and visit me "out back!"

By Karrie McAllister Five little pumpkins, sitting on a gate. The first one said, “I know my fate!” The second one said, “My top comes off with cuts.” The third one said, “And they scoop out my guts.” The fourth one said, “They poke my eyes and nose.” The fifth one said, “And on the front porch I goes.” Then OOOOh went the wind, and out went the light, And the five little pumpkins just sat there, smiled, and rotted until the middle of November, and one u ntil late November, but you really couldn’t tell it was a pumpkin anymore. I love pumpkins. They are an essential part of my favorite season, which lasts from about the second week in October until the freezing rains start knocking down the corn stalks. I love all sorts and sizes of pumpkins. I love the little tiny ones that you set all over your house for decoration to the great big deformed ones we rush to see at the county fair, and everything in between. As a kid, we carved pumpkins every year. And this was before they had those f...

I usually save this blog for writing only, but when you've got kids like this, pictures are worth a thousand words. Or a thousand "awwws!" Are they cute or what? Introducing Annie Oakley and the Red Ninja: