I am Abbie Gale and this is about us.
“All That Makes You…”
“You did WHAT Boys?
That is me, Abbie, and that is what I say, a lot.
What you cannot see on the floor behind me is my constant pile of clothes I am trying to fold, at all times.
Let me help you.
I should be happy to be folding clothes because that would mean I am not pulling a slug off of someone or cleaning milkshake off the ceiling again…
or for that matter, getting the legos out of the blender.
I can help you with that one too.
I started sharing my favorite stories in March of 2012.
I have written our stories down for years and I take pictures of everything, clearly.
Avery is really is not happy because I am taking a picture instead of helping him get the bag off of his head. He is 4 in this photo Avery is the “oldest” of the twins and likes to say since they are identicals and came from the same egg he “made” Mitchell. Avery is now 14.
Mitchell just happy I’m taking his picture despite not being able to get the bag stuck on his head. He is 4 in this photo. Mitchell is 14 now and he says he is a “chick maggot”.
Here they are now at 14 years old.
This is our Peter. Enough said. Peter is four in this photo. Peter is now nine…
…and he has an entire post dedicated to things he has said called,
Jim is my husband and while he was in medical school I began emailing and texting him stories of our kids for him to read when he had a minute or two, knowing he was missing out on these “priceless” moments.
We were interviewed by Redbook about what makes a long term relationship work. Now and forever my husband says he was on Redbook’s “Hottest Husbands” page.
Shanon Cook read my story about the real reasons Botox should be marketed to people…
Which led to her interviewing me about…
It may have also have been to explain my future trip to the nut house that I didn’t realize was an unobtainable
I would send our favorite stories in our annual Christmas letter. People began requesting I add them to the growing mailing list to receive the “DREADED” Christmas letter and so I decided this may be a better idea.
OK, I have to admit our Christmas letters are pretty funny if I do say so myself. Want to read one?
Our Mutt Lilly
If you need a laugh today…
Hit the “Follow me” button and I will try to tell you a story regularly that you can relate to.
A story that makes you smile, laugh, think, love, cry or cry laughing.
I have some serious stories to tell too.
What I cannot figure out is why they have reality shows called “The Real Housewives of…” but no one has a reality show of what a REAL housewife’s life is like. We have the most crazy, fun, REAL times in a crazy, fun, real, gated community with our families. The best part is that we know how abnormal it all is and we go with it. Only in our house would the husband ask the wife to keep her cleavage covered as it reminds him of work. It takes a breast doctor to get sick of seeing boobies!
Here I am with our traveling neighborhood Nutcracker, In August.
He enjoys Grey Goose and brunettes.
I write down our stories because, let’s face it, I am never going to make a scrap book.
“If you would just smile she would STOP taking our picture!”
Our Norman Rockwell moment.
I just started February 29, 2012 and so far I feel like I’m giving birth…mostly that legs apart and up in the air while naked in a well lit
room with strangers…feeling.
“You keep an eye out Peter while we sneak a kiss.”
“Those aren’t real boobies mom! They just have sponges under the shirt!”
The stories I write are to give to our kids one day. Having a forum to share our “funnies” encourages me to write them down so that when they have children of their own…
I can show them that they will only get to the brink of insanity.
Ha, take that! The “nut house” would be a vacation and God needs parents to stay home and take care of their kids! I will be sitting back laughing at my grandchildren’s “funnies” while watching my own grown kids squeegee the cooking oil off the floor.
I’m pretty sure their kids will one day POUR COOKING OIL ON THE FLOOR to slide around on or POUR A GALLON OF MILK INTO THE CARPET to see if it makes its way to the pipes that we should have NEVER told them run all over under the floors.
Peter is Tom Sawyer. I can prove it.
My parents were hippies and I may not have made it to school as often as I should have to learn grammar and punctuation.
That is your warning.
I write as I think and am already aware I do not know how to use a comma or most punctuation. Up until now I made my husband proofread our Christmas letter which was the extent of anyone seeing my thoughts fall onto paper. Jim likes to tell me my writing is like an ugly porn star and my punctuation is the ugly part. Thank God he finds my inadequacies cute. Oh, and thank God for spell check.
People like to tell me my kids are funny. I always reply with, “All kids are funny! It is wrapping your mind around the moment and finding the humor.” Sure, sometimes it may take 36 hours for the moment to seem funny. An example would be the aftermath of the below Halloween when you are trying to wash black hairspray out of your sons blond hair.
Mitchell and Avery are IDENTICAL twins and this is how much they looked alike before the can of black hairspray.
“Oh no Bat Baby, have mercy!”
I want to create a place for people to check after they have read the days news in the car pickup line at school or on the side of a practice field and now you need a smile.
“Mom, the baby is eating dirt…don’t worry he likes it!”
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