Let me just start with this statement: We are a fivesome of weirdos. We know it, we own it. We relish in it.
On Saturday morning, Joe and I were lying in bed talking about what to do with the day (while the girls made a mess of the kitchen and watched cartoons, of course).
The conversation went like this:
“What do you have planned today?”
“I have to go to the post office and be at church at 4:45 for nursery duty, but other than that we have no plans.”
“Cool! Want to go for a walk?”
So obviously we ended up taking a road trip to Laramie, Wyoming.
Continue reading “Ashley Does: Family Weekend”
You get an invite to a girls’ night in. Margarita Monday.
Sounds fun, right? I could totally go for some girl time and margaritas!
Then, you see it. A logo. A brand. A consultant’s name. A website.
Oh Lordy, not another boring direct sales party! If I have to go listen to a sales rep hard sell me on her product, business opportunity, or hostess perks for an hour, I will never recover. I better just tell my friend, who I’d love to hang out with, that I can’t come so I don’t have to sit through that torture and then feel bad that I don’t buy anything.
Guys, do you see what’s wrong with this picture?
Continue reading “Ashley Does: Changing How We Party”
Some days are just “those days.”
Two of five family members got NO sleep last night.
We woke up late.
No one had breakfast. (#MomWin)
Got cut off in the drop off line at school.
Looked like a bum.
But the Lord is faithful, so these days usually land on Thursdays. And on Thursdays, we have MOPS. Continue reading “Ashley Does: One of Those Days”
I remember my dad taking me to the Girl Scouts Father Daughter Dance. It was a Hawaiian theme. I was probably 9. I felt so grown up, I got to wear tights and fancy shoes and go somewhere with just Daddy. No mom, no pesky little brother, just me and him.
Can you imagine my excitement now, watching my husband take our daughters to their first Father Daughter Dance? This man that I adore, to whom I promised my life 9 years ago, is dressing up and taking his sweet baby girls to dance. Something he HATES to do. He doesn’t even take me dancing and believe you me, I’ve attempted every feminine wile I possess to change his mind. Strike.Out. Continue reading “Ashley Does: The Father Daughter Dance”