not this cute anymore!
the PS's are my favorite..
Monday, July 25, 2011
love notes
Ben and Luke are still constantly writing notes back and forth to each other, even though they spend 23 hours of the day in the same room. This one was about to get thrown away but I decided to scan it first. 
the PS's are my favorite..
the PS's are my favorite..
Saturday, July 23, 2011
Wednesday, July 20, 2011
super-sized art
This post should be titled "What we spent our time doing instead of packing, cleaning, folding laundry and getting ready for a road trip." Honestly, I am kind of sick thinking about what I didn't get done today. But these pictures make me a little happier about the mess we made.
Zack is the only one who didn't paint the outfit he was wearing. And I wouldn't expecting anything less creative (or messy) from this child. But I don't understand why he painted a T on his crotch? Terrific? Tantalizing?
Ben with socks only. Luke has shoes but no socks, Zack is barefoot and Simon has flip flops... Their feet are my favorite thing about this project because it perfectly describes how they walk out the door each and every day.
If pictures could talk you would hear Zack's energetic squeal saying, "Oh baby! I just tagged Luke in the privates!"
Here's hoping that tomorrow we do something a little more.... productive.
Tuesday, July 19, 2011
I am just like Octomom
I am going bananas in this house. no literally... B-A-N-A-N-A-S.
Yesterday I was on the phone trying to clear a $2.10 (yes two dollars and ten cent) fine on our credit report that has been there for eight years, a fine that we've been (repeatedly) told will be removed. While I was on the phone, I wasn't paying attention to my busy toddler, who had climbed on top of the kitchen counter and gotten his grubby hands on a bunch of ripe bananas. Have you ever seen the kind of mess 8 bananas can make? Well, I wish I had pictures to show you, but it was such a disaster, I didn't want to document it. And that is saying something. Bananas were smashed all over our counter tops, bar stools, kitchen floor, carpets, rugs, couch cushions, pillows & walls. not to mention, in the fingers, toes and hairs of our little mess-maker.
To make matters worse, it happened right before dinnertime and Daddy walked through the door just as we were starting to clean it up. The good news is that Daddy walked through the door just in time to help us clean it up. It took about two hours to clean-- with five of us working (& trying to keep Simon from dumping out our buckets of soapy water.) Without going into more detail, it was the biggest mess I've had to clean as a mother... and that is saying something.
While I was on my hands and knees scrubbing the carpets, I kept thinking about a clip I saw of Octomom on Oprah. She was there with financial consultant Suze Orman who was lecturing her about having more children than she could handle. I was up to my elbows in banana-flavored goop when I realized that I am exactly like Octomom. I can't handle the children I already have, and yet... I am about to give birth to another. And the sad part is, I want more after this one. Am I a baby-addict? Is there some kind of medication you can take to keep you from making your life more chaotic than it already is? Yes, there is. It's called birth control.
The media loves to make fun of Octomom, and I can see why people think she's irresponsible and crazy. But I think, on some level, we criticize because it makes us feel better about our own pathetic decisions. We buy things we can afford, eat unhealthy foods when we're trying to lose weight, and have more children when we should stop. Which brings me to a funny story.
Last month, I was walking in the mall with my four boys. I never go to the mall, but I wanted a new maternity swimsuit and was hoping I could find something at Motherhood. After no such luck, I walked out of the store and almost ran over an old man (who wasn't watching where he was going) with my stroller. He was a grumpy old man who pointed his wrinkly finger at me and said, "Someone should have told you this long ago. You should be finished. No more kids for you." I was so shocked by what he said that I couldn't say anything.. I just stood there speechless as he stormed off. Later I laughed it off as I told my husband about the crazy old man who didn't know what he was talking about. But after yesterday, I am starting to think he has a point.
Yesterday I was on the phone trying to clear a $2.10 (yes two dollars and ten cent) fine on our credit report that has been there for eight years, a fine that we've been (repeatedly) told will be removed. While I was on the phone, I wasn't paying attention to my busy toddler, who had climbed on top of the kitchen counter and gotten his grubby hands on a bunch of ripe bananas. Have you ever seen the kind of mess 8 bananas can make? Well, I wish I had pictures to show you, but it was such a disaster, I didn't want to document it. And that is saying something. Bananas were smashed all over our counter tops, bar stools, kitchen floor, carpets, rugs, couch cushions, pillows & walls. not to mention, in the fingers, toes and hairs of our little mess-maker.
To make matters worse, it happened right before dinnertime and Daddy walked through the door just as we were starting to clean it up. The good news is that Daddy walked through the door just in time to help us clean it up. It took about two hours to clean-- with five of us working (& trying to keep Simon from dumping out our buckets of soapy water.) Without going into more detail, it was the biggest mess I've had to clean as a mother... and that is saying something.
While I was on my hands and knees scrubbing the carpets, I kept thinking about a clip I saw of Octomom on Oprah. She was there with financial consultant Suze Orman who was lecturing her about having more children than she could handle. I was up to my elbows in banana-flavored goop when I realized that I am exactly like Octomom. I can't handle the children I already have, and yet... I am about to give birth to another. And the sad part is, I want more after this one. Am I a baby-addict? Is there some kind of medication you can take to keep you from making your life more chaotic than it already is? Yes, there is. It's called birth control.
The media loves to make fun of Octomom, and I can see why people think she's irresponsible and crazy. But I think, on some level, we criticize because it makes us feel better about our own pathetic decisions. We buy things we can afford, eat unhealthy foods when we're trying to lose weight, and have more children when we should stop. Which brings me to a funny story.
Last month, I was walking in the mall with my four boys. I never go to the mall, but I wanted a new maternity swimsuit and was hoping I could find something at Motherhood. After no such luck, I walked out of the store and almost ran over an old man (who wasn't watching where he was going) with my stroller. He was a grumpy old man who pointed his wrinkly finger at me and said, "Someone should have told you this long ago. You should be finished. No more kids for you." I was so shocked by what he said that I couldn't say anything.. I just stood there speechless as he stormed off. Later I laughed it off as I told my husband about the crazy old man who didn't know what he was talking about. But after yesterday, I am starting to think he has a point.
magic trick
after Simon's bath this morning, he sat down to play with Ben's magic cards while I grabbed a clean diaper and a new outfit. When he stood up, we couldn't help but be amazed by a trick he came up with all by himself. The boys and I laughed so hard and quickly took a picture to send to Daddy at work. If that's not magic then what is?
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