I am an awful, horrible, no good, very bad blogger.  I've neglected you for almost two weeks.  Sorry 'bout that.  I've been busy.  Getting my tan on.  It's ok if you're jealous.  (don't be btw, I'm not so much tan as red and blotchity and whitish and a little bit peely)  But I really am sorry if you were totally in the mood to read something weird and goofy and strange, and I wasn't around to write accordingly.  But I am vowing to do better - starting today.  Or next week - whatever.  Just don't leave me.  I need you to feed my self-esteem when beating all those sister-in-laws at Just Dance just isn't cutting it any more.  Even though I am pretty good at shaking my large, jiggly groove thing.  
    I may or may not have been at an undisclosed location along the Gulf Coast for the past week with all of Aaron's family.  We may or may not have all been living together harmoniously in one house.  (harmoniously may be a stretch considering there are 8 children ages 9 and under in one house but you get it)  And my sister-in-law and I may or may not have buried a body in the sand.  Ok.  It wasn't really a body, just poop, but it felt as scandalous as burying a body.  

 I have found a new way to control and discipline Destruct-o-girl.  Sand.  I'm going to put a sand box in the corner of the kitchen and every time she acts bad I am going to make her stand in it.  She hates it.  It's messy and sticks to her and she cries every time I make her walk in it.  So that's my new plan of disciplinary action.  "Do you want to sit in the sandbox?  Then you better put down that butcher knife and those crystal goblets and get down off my dining room table right this minute little lady!"  Knowing that, it makes sense that we blew up a baby pool, filled it with ocean water, and sat it under an umbrella for her to play in. (well that, and the fact that I also didn't want her to burn to a crisp or drown in the Gulf of Mexico)  I thought it was a great plan.  Until the poop.  She had on one of those suits with the liner in it, made to contain things like poop, but she's just so stinkin' skinny that it doesn't hug around the legs.  So she was sitting in the pool and and her cousin was about to hop in with her and we realize................ewwww.  Now what?  I'm sure there is protocol for this type of thing but we didn't know it.  So we did the only thing we could do.  Bury it.  Just trust me when I tell you there were a lot of extenuating circumstances that you don't want to know about, and I realize that I would be the first to be upset if I was working on a sand castle and dug up a small pile of human excrement.  But we did what had to be done.  And felt so illegal and awful and nervous that the authorities were coming for us at any moment.  So just a warning - somewhere off 30-A there may or may not be a buried treasure.
    Ok, so he's not James Darren and he can't actually surf, but I do like him.  A lot.  He is not happy about the fact that I am putting this picture up, but I convinced him that I have to.  Otherwise I would not be able to say the Moondoggie thing.  Now if any of you can tell me where that comes from, I will give you the most humongeous prize in the world - all my respect for your excellent choice in movies.  I might possibly be your BFF and ever and ever if you know who Moondoggie is and his girlfriend's name.  Good luck people.  I know it's a prize you are all dying for. 
    This photo has nothing to do with anything.  It's just my boys teaching their sister to make really becoming faces.  Sorry, they are just so stinkin' cute that I couldn't resist.  P.S.  Don't judge me for the unmade bed.  It was vacation people.

Love you as much as going on a great vacation and then coming home to my own bed,