Seven Random Things...(More than you ever wanted to know!)

Okay, I know that I promised to blog more often, but you know, I just get really, really busy...And I have been working on a project for a friend. (Which I will soon reveal and share her story with you.)

But my great friends Courtney and Melissa tagged me to tell 7 Random Things About Me...so apparently its confession time...(No Judging!!)

1. I have a really beautiful office plant named Aretha that I love. (long story...) And my friend Heather has one named Franklin. :) (cracks me up every time!)

2. I really, really love old buildings and houses. Such thought and love went into their design. They have such potential for restoration and reuse. I wish I had millions so I could buy them all up and redo them!

3. I am really proud of my cooking skills. And I really love it that my husband is proud of it too--all of my husbands' friends are envious that their wives do not cook as well or as often. (I know, I know, pride before the fall.) And I love to have people over to cook for them... (Hey everyone...please come over more often--its okay to ask to come over! I would love to cook for you!)

4. My trailblazer is the dirtiest thing I own--truly disgusting. My brothers would have a canary if they saw its condition. I am ashamed of how dirty it is, but really, I have other more pressing things to worry about...so if they wanna come detail it for me, have at it!

5. I had reconstructive surgery on my nose when I was in fifth grade because I broke it so badly...when I tell people that, they usually respond, "Oh, well, you can't even tell..." Which I know is secret code for, "Why didn't they make it shorter?" Oh, if they had only made it less of a ski-slope, I could be the next Cindy Crawford (Yes, I realize that I would have to grow 9 inches, a couple of cup sizes, and lose about 15 pounds, but hey, do-able, right?).

6. I think that I am prettier now than I was when I was in high school, when I got married, or when I was in college. I spent a very, very long time in an awkward stage. Maybe I am just more confident, but I suspect that others think the same.

7. Even though I am cold-natured, I love fall and winter. I love bon-fires and my fireplace, and cider, and layering clothing (I hate worrying about tans, cellulite, and how my bathing suit looks), and snow days, and long evenings after dark, and seeing sunrises at a reasonable hour, and pumpkin pie, and the sleepy-effect of Turkey, and little girls' Christmas dresses, Christmas cards, and Christmas trees, and stockings, and, and, and, and...

So how is that for confession time? You guys still love me? Courtney and Melissa, after reading yours, I have come to this conclusion...Courtney, you are way too normal...Melissa, may need help for those obsessive-complusive tendencies!!! I always knew it, but it is now confirmed! (I love you, even in your quirkiness...)

So I tag Mom (because I know yours will look much like mine), Sheryl (because, like Melissa, you may just make me look normal!), and Caroline (simply because, Caroline you are far too proper to have any wierd quirks, aren't you?). Thanks Ladies!

David's 32nd Birthday

I am feeling old today. I am not sure why, other than my kids often make me feel old. Just the fact that Rhian is in the third grade and can read words like appearance, realm, and simile (she was reading King Arthur last night) makes me feel old. And she is learning Latin. Latin!

Or maybe it is the fact that the weekend is here, and instead of it being a time of relaxation, I have about 30 million things to accomplish before Monday morning...

But I think it has more to do with the fact that the other day I realized that on my next birthday, I will be only 3 years away from 30. I realize that 27 is not old--in any way, shape or form. But I am now on the upside of my 20s (or the downside, however you want to look at it), and it is really freaking me out! Not to mention, the other day, I pulled my first gray hair (Mom--absolutely no laughing! It is a fluke! A fluke!)

One thing that brings me comfort--David will always be older than me! He turned 32 on Sept 3rd. These are the pictures from his "birthday party" (it was really just a dinner with his family).

(Note: I converted these pictures to black and white because every picture that I take in my house turns out very orange and unsightly...thus, I either have to spend hour upon hour tinkering with color balance in photoshop, or simply convert them to B&W. Plus, I really like the way candles look in B&W...)

Rhian delivering his cake...


Jacklyn inspecting the cake to decide where to first stick her finger...

And you know what? He may be old, and a little heavier, and a little more wrinkled, but that smile...oh, that smile, it gets me every time. I am still convinced that he is the most adorable man on earth. Note the cake in this photo. I let the girls decorate the cake themselves this year. And you could tell...Not to mention that they decorated the cake the day before, and the icing slid off the sides sometime during the night (no, the cake was not still warm!). Therefore, the really cute horse that I helped Rhian draw with icing had "run" off the side of the cake...oh well. The beautiful thing about cake is that no matter what the icing looks like, it still eats the same!
Mission accomplished! Jacklyn got Daddy's blessing to stick her finger in the icing. And lick, and lick, and lick she did. Thankfully, only family members were there and they don't mind a little baby saliva.

Seriously, how many Chambers can you fit on one couch? Left to right: Gary (David's dad-"Papa"), Dana (Gary Jon's girlfriend), Rhian, Gary Jon (David's brother), Elizabeth, and Kate (David's cousin).

Gary Jon loves our girls. And our girls love him. But he seriously needs an entire housefull of girls for himself, because then he will understand why you don't rough-house with a bunch of little girls in the middle of a birthday party...Obviously, Rhian is listening to me saying, "Girls, be nice to Uncle Gary Jon." Obviously, Elizabeth is not.

He really, really needs his own daughters. Although, if he had his own, he and Dana would not spoil them with the mass of really cool, well-thought-out gifts at Christmas and on birthdays. (Although--Gary Jon, if ever get Elizabeth another set of drums, I will be forced to kill you...or maybe she and the drum set can come to live with you!)

Papa and Jacklyn, I think she got her serious attitude and furrowed brows from him...

Apparently, he said something "Miss Liz" did not like...

I think in this picture his patience was running out...you started it, Gary...

Finally, I got Elizabeth to stop torturing Gary Jon, and she returned to being her usual sweet self. Kate is Elizabeth's hero. She is the ultimate cowgirl/accountant. She is really cool. Elizabeth loves her.

Ah, family...

My Yearbook Photos...Very Scary

Okay, so I just could not resist. I saw the link to this site on http://www.thepioneerwoman.com/, and the photos that one of her readers had created of Ree. So, so funny. I just had to do some of myself.

And they are so funny, they bring tears to my eyes. For someone who was born in the 80s, 1950, even 1970, is ancient history.

This is me in 1950. What is sad about this, is that I knew a girl in high school who had the exact same hair style...
This is me in 1952...apparently I let my hair grow a little...I actually like this picture. I would have made a cute 1952 woman--although I am unsure of what mud puddle I fell into to get my chin this dirty. This photo also reminds me of one of my favorite movies of all time--High Road to China (yes, mom, the one with (swoon) Tom Selleck). In this picture, I would have fit into the cast quite nicely--although I am pretty sure the time frame of the movies was 1910's.

This next picture really, really cracks me up, because I am pretty sure that there is a picture of my mother-in-law (sorry, DeeDee), with nearly the exact same hairstyle and shirt. Although I will emphasize that the picture was not taken in 1958, more like the 70s. She would die if you thought she was an adult in the 50s!This one is even better--this is how I imagine the traditional students on campus see me--school marm Kathryn. Although I am quite sure that even in their view of me, I do not have two left ears...
This next one depresses me. And while I think that my mother-in-law (once again, sorry) also has a picture with this hairstyle...it is not the hair that depresses me. It is the fact that I am pretty sure that while I am pregnant this is how fat and distorted my face looks. :( (I have mentioned that we are not having any more babies right?) Another scarily-realistic school marm picture...I must have had face-lipo since the last picture...

Seriously, if I could ever get this much volume out of my hair, I would wear it like this next picture everyday. I mean it, everyday. But as it stands, I my hair would need some serious ratting and about 20 gallons of hairspray to look like this. Okay, maybe 30 gallons--on my wedding day, I think there was 20 gallons of hairspray on my hair, and it still did not have this much volume.
Okay, so this next one, although it is supposed to be in the 70s, I had this hairstyle just a couple of years ago...what goes around comes around.

Okay--now I am going to pick on my Grandma Billie for a minute (I love you grandma--I really do--but everyone gets picked on!)--she had hair like this and apparently a serious fascination with Cher because many of the pictures of her from when she was young looked as if she was a Cher impersonator!

Now back to picking on mom. She not only had a hairstyle like grandma and the picture above, but also much like the next picture--although longer, and much more Farrah Fawcett. In fact, my Aunt Diana told me just the other day that my mom had the most perfect 70s hair and that everyone wanted to look like her...
I really have no words for the next one, other than, what were those women thinking? This is supposedly from the year I was born...thank God I was too young to remember...
Ha, ha, hee, hee. I know a woman who looked just like the picture below. Although I will not name her because I do not know her that well, and the way blogs go...you just never know who might stumble upon this...(I only harrass people I know and love!)


Okay, so I had hair like this, or at least made a fourth-grade attempt at hair like this. I remember tying my long t-shirt in a side knot, and then using a brush to hold the sides of my hair out, spraying, spraying, spraying with hairspray to create, as we called them, "Bat wings."
This next one--is my cousin Heather. Really--her senior picture looked just like this!!!
The next one, 1998--I had this hairstyle. Gigantic forehead and all. I think I could probably dig up a picture of me that looks just like this. Trust me, I have since repented and thrown out all of my curling irons--actually, I used hot velcro rollers and curling irons...
And I had this hairstyle too...my bangs weren't quite so fluffy...once again, my hair does not have enough volume, but they probably would have looked like this!

I did dig up a picture of this hairstyle. I mean, check it out, bangs and all!
Here is the picture that I used for all of the pictures above...even this style is somewhat regrettable...thus my newly-cut bangs. (Not full-forehead, just straight-ironed side bangs...you know, stylish!) But really, how long do you think it will be before all of these layered, straight-ironed looks are made fun of? Well, I'll just have to destroy the pictures before my kids see them!

Time slips away...

So, realizing that I had not posted most of this month, I searched through my millions of picture files to find good stories to share. And I found that I have neglected to share so many good September stories. Therefore, the next few posts will be September catch-up.


Starting with these random, yet wonderful pictures of the girls. Moments when I just happened to catch a great smile or giggle...



Or an introspective stare...
Or...remember those quiet moments I once mentioned--the kind that make my blood run cold because I realize that they have to be into some kind of mischief...yeah, those moments...

This was one of them... And no, Elizabeth was not being held against her will...

Yes, she actually enjoyed being this dirty. And yes, we did have to brush her teeth and wash her hair twice to get all of the dirt out.


Once again, why my kids are my reason for living! They make things fun--well, at least interesting! This is why time flies, why they grow so fast, and why I don't have time to blog! Cut me a break, I was washing dirt out of a rotten little girl's hair!

An Ode to Crowbait.

Crowbait. Never has a name more accurately described the appearance of a horse. Although dreadful in appearance, Crowbait is a gem among steads. He is steadfast, trustworthy, a tick lazy, and he has the most wonderful, soft, speckled nose.

He even has speckled eyelids, which of course, add to his less-than-appealing appearance. But, like I said, he is a gem--and I suppose might just be beautiful if you go for that appaloosa look.

David broke Crowbait to ride when David was 15 yrs old. Crowbait may have been 4 yrs old then, but no one really knows his real age due to the fact that he is not registered like the rest of our (beautiful) quarter horses. In any case, Crowbait is now a geriatric horse. But in his years, he has cared for many small, apprentice riders.

David's cousins, Kate, Will and Lee, all rode Crowbait at some point during their childhood. All have fallen off (mainly due to Crowbait's really annoying habit of trying to de-saddle his rider by scraping them off with a tree limb), but none have been bucked off (to my knowledge).

Lee really put him through his paces when he was little. Lee's favorite thing to do as a young rider was to spank him with the end of his rein to make him go faster...and faster...I think Crowbait was relieved to come to our house to meet a new set of youngsters...

Now Lee comes over to our house and continues to harrass him by riding him around the barn lot bareback...poor Crowbait. But the girls think, of course, that cousin Lee is the coolest boy they know because he can ride their horse bareback.

When the girls ride, there is always an argument. Who gets to ride first, who gets to ride by themself, who got to ride longest, etc...And they do get to ride other horses, but of course, Crowbait is "their" horse.

During the recent "Saddle Up for Diabetes" trail ride on the ranch, (pictures will follow soon...) David, Grandpa Mike, and Neighbor Jerry were riding the only well-trained (and beautiful) quarter horses on our place. (Since David raises and trains horses, we are plagued with a constant string of half-broke young horses--David sells all the trained horses--kind of like a carpenter's house is never finished--same theory applies to horse trainers.)

So what do I get to ride, but Crowbait. Of course. Because God is constantly humbling me. The wife of Trail Boss David (as the city-slickers call him), riding an old, ugly appaloosa, while David rides our beautiful, black, gleaming stud horse.

Oh well, Crowbait did safely carry me and Elizabeth the whole ride, with not one falter (except for the one attempt to scrape us off with a tree branch). Several city-folk commented on him, with David and I quickly explaining that while ugly, he is the best horse on the place...

And these pictures illustrate why he is the best on the place...two girls, under the age of ten, running the barrel pattern over and over and over again. And he does it, without complaint (although there are no tree branches around for him to complain with).

(And no, mom, the girls were not really "running" the barrel pattern. Nor were they going fast to make their hair fly like that--the wind was blowing--I promise.)

The picture above is Crowbait complaining...by nickering at nearby horses. So maybe a kind, old horse can get a little bored of walking/trotting the barrel pattern over and over and over again.

And this is my opportunity to brag on my kids a little more. (Not that I ever need an "opportunity" to brag...)

What eight-year-old do you know whom you would trust to ride a horse with your 18-month-old? Rhian has really blossomed in the last two years. She has grown from a shy, introverted, somewhat scared of everything kid, into a brave, strong, big-kid.

Rhian is remarkably compassionate and patient with her sisters. Not that she does not fight and argue any less than any other 8yr old sister, but she does temper it with kindness.

And what 18-month-old do you know who is so confident on a horse and so trusting of a sibling? Jacklyn has absolutely stolen my heart. She is full of giggles, and can express more with her facial expressions than any adult can with a thousand words. She may never learn to talk though. With two sisters to cater to her every whim and talk for her, who needs to learn any more than the signs for food, drink, and please?

But back to Crowbait--honestly, I dread the day when we wake to find that Crowbait is no longer with us. He has been such a good horse to the Chambers family--such a good friend. He is by far, much more beautiful than his name implies.

(Note the very bored, half-asleep look on Crowbait's face (face?). He is so patient with giggly little girls. Also note, there is no real "Ode" in this post...because that requires more talent than I possess...)

Trying to be Superwoman

I have been reading a book, which is unusual for me, for now days the only books I get to read are third grade Junie B books and piles of textbooks, so when I do get to read, I prefer magazines or extremely lighthearted books. This book is called Harried With Children, by Karen Scalf Linamen. If you have not read it, get it. My mom bought it for me (hum, was that a hint?). Now I am going to make her read it.


In her book, Linamen celebrates all of the crazy experiences that come along with being a wife and a mom--the things that we would never admit to our closest friends. The crazy things that happen that make us shake our heads and pray to God for strength.


One of the things that I often struggle with is not being a superwoman. Or superwife. Or supermom. I always imagined life different—more pulled together, more organized, more structured and orderly. More fun, fewer headaches, less hectic. I always have had a romantic notion of what life would be like—and I am pretty sure that I have fallen short of my 13-year-old dreams.

As I get older, and especially recently, I have gotten to know other women—other moms. And not the passing in the carpool lane, polite wave with make up on get-to-know, but the real, drop your guard, be honest get-to-know. And you know what? These women are even more wonderful and beautiful than they were with their perfectly pressed facades. Their flaws, their inadequacies, their fears—make them all the more beautiful. They are strong, devoted, loving women doing their best to do the same thing I am—survive the great balancing act.

Linamen talks about this in her book—and they way she writes is so hiliarious, I had to share…


“My guess is that, like me, you’re no superwoman. In fact, if you’re really like me, you don’t even know any superwomen.

“And yet, we are so hard on ourselves, aren’t we? We begin with such high expectations…and are dismayed to discover how short we fall…

“And yet I still have these really crazy expectations for myself. I still try to do it all, be it all, have it all. I keep thinking I can fly…

“At these moments, it’s good for me to try to get a grip on reality. I try to remind myself that, while I may be a superwoman wannabe, I’ll never be a real superwoman. How do I know?...


“A real superwoman would never be rushing for an important job interview, nick her leg shaving, and have to walk out the door wearing a Muppet Babies Band-Aid under her hose.

“A real superwoman would never have to go on a diet. And if she did have to go on a diet, she would never cheat. And is she did happen to cheat, it would be for something rich and sophisticated, like caviar or chocolate mousse. She would never blow her diet because of an insatiable craving for Moon Pies or Sweet Tarts.

“A real superwoman wouldn’t tell her kids to save dinner leftovers in a Tupperware container when she doesn’t actually own any Tupperware, and what she REALLY means is for them to use one of the twenty-seven recycled butter tubs (with missing lids) that comprise the bulk of her food-storage system.

“A real superwoman would never invite friends over homemade brownies, forget to add the flour, and make her guests eat the brownies using spoons. She definitely would not then move to a new house, invite those same friends over for chili, realize her spoons were still packed away in the garage somewhere, and serve the chili with plastic forks.

“A real superwoman would never hang up on her editor while shouting the phrase, “I HAVE TO GO! THE BABY’S IN THE TOLIET!”

“A real superwoman would not own a freezer so precariously crammed with frozen mystery foods that she makes her children wear hard hats and steel-toed boots before they’re allowed to open the door for ice cubes.

“A real superwoman would not occasionally arrive at her office at 6:00 am to get some extra work done and fall asleep at her computer until 8:00. Thus, she would never be put in the embarrassing position of hoping desperately that her coworkers would not find out about her dark secret, only to have one of them tell her later, “Of course we knew. We all knew. When you’d been sleeping, you’d come out of your office with a keyboard imprint on your cheek.”

“A real superwoman would not be growing eleven different strains of penicillin in her refrigerator.

“A real superwoman would never sit down in front of the TV to watch Sesame Street with her toddler…and still be there watching Barney two hours later while her toddler is happily playing with her blocks in the other room.


“A real superwoman has never stood in front of her closet, gazed at the pile of dirty laundry awaiting her, and had the word ‘Kilimanjaro’ pop, unbidden, into her mind.

“…cheer up and welcome to the club. You and I are members of a mega-soroity of women everywhere who live a harried, flawed—and at the same time, a relatively happy—existence.

“Superwoman? Who needs her? She doesn’t exist, my friend. Not at my house, not at yours. Not in our generation. Not in this universe.

“Superwoman is passé.

“But super women…well, that’s another story altogether.

“Let me tell you a little about super women. They’re everywhere, in every generation, in big cities, and small burgs alike. They’re flawed and fabulous, wounded and wonderful. They are moms and wives and daughters just like you and me, woman who know what it’s like to juggle and struggle, live and learn, laugh and love, moan and groan, and ultimately survive and even thrive.

"Women of steel? Women who leap tall buildings? They’re the women who drive carpools and care for aging parents, who watch Barney, watch for their teens to come home after curfew, and watch their weight. They’re women who remember birthdays and doctor’s appointments and baseball games, who bake cookies for fund-raisers and muffins for colleagues at the office. They’re the women who take care of their grandkids so their daughters can work. They crave chocolate and hate well-woman exams and learn to live with the adversities of life. They’re the women who change diapers and dread the change of life and end up changing their world because of what they do and who they are.

“Super women? They’re alive and well on Planet Earth.

“So smile when you zip up that cape.

“Looks like we just might be the real thing, after all.”


So you know what, I am not superwoman. But my superwoman feats for the day are: that my hearing impaired daughter can read Junie B books, that my four-year-old is learning to be patient and kind to others, and that my 18-month-old goes down the tornado slide at the park all by herself! And that is enough for me!



Thanks for listening, Superwoman Kathryn.