Every Day Festivities

Life in our house is pretty funny, except when its not, which is another story altogether. But this kid, 

he keeps me laughing.

He wanted me to take pictures for Auntie Rachel and Uncle Phil. Not to be confused with Uncle Nil, which is really Uncle Nate, but confused with Phil. Get it? Nil?

Today he told me after we dropped Katie off, 'Hey, it's just you and me now. We can have some peace and quiet.' With no sense of the irony of that statement.

He's pretty awesome, even when he does his super scary face. I assured him that no doubt Uncle Phil cried for his mama when he saw this one. Frightening, I tell ya!

And this little thang? She's pretty special too. While James is not interested in all the fanfare that goes with theme days at school, Katie is ALL OVER IT. 

She had 'Mismatch Day' and asked me to pick out her most un-matching clothes. It was kind of fun!

 

She even wore mismatched shoes, which would drive me crazy to wear but she didn't care! I suppose any day you can rock both a cowboy boot and a sequined boot simultaneously is bound to be a good day.

After school we busted out a Cheyney classic: shaving cream. Mom used to let us loose with a bottle of it and we would make all manner of pies and finger painted masterpieces. My kids decided take it a step further.

 

The end result: happy children who spent the rest of the day smelling like old men. 

Meanwhile, James is perfecting his barrel walking skills. He can go across the entire yard! One of these days perhaps I can get a video up. It is pretty impressive.

Super Chicken

 

 Desperate times call for desperate measures, and sometimes for dressing a chicken up as Superman.

A few days ago, we decided it was such a time.

The hen was not impressed

She prepared for launch

And then I prepared her for lunch...just kidding. 

The funny part was when she landed, the cape flipped forward and tripped her. When she realized she couldn't walk, she just resigned herself and sunk to the ground. Poor chicken.

Afterward, Super Chicky took the chicken cape for a spin.

James' Poem

James wrote a poem in school and was chosen to read it over the morning announcements! Here is his poem:

I'm On The World

Please slow down...
The world's going
Too fast, I might
Get dizzy. In the
Winter the world's
Up-side-down
What if I fall
O
  F
    F
What if the gravity goes to space?
We all might fall off!

Random Pics

My Christmas cactus is providing an encore performance. My plant window is getting full.

 

I made James a Ninjago pillowcase this morning. He needed a pick-me-up.

Katie and Tyler drawing on the couch. Well, not ON the couch, thankfully.

Katie showing off her food creation

I made Chorizo Empanadas last night. Muy bien! I ate one for breakfast. Shhh!

Katie and Tyler reading in their tent

And last but not least, Tyler with his hummus/carrot/cracker creations. He said they were missionaries. I have no idea.

Comebacks for Bullies

Fairly often, one of the kids comes home complaining of someone being mean to them. I never know quite what to believe. There is part of me that's like 'Oh, no you diiiiidn't mess with my baby!' and part of me that thinks it might have been a bit of overreacting. Anyway, I am always thinking of ways they can stand up for themselves and get the kids to be nice to them, or at least leave them alone. My sarcastic brain is always comes up with some witty comeback which may or may not be appropriate for the situation, so I usually keep them to myself. Here are some scenarios:

Katie: Mom, Joey made a face at me on the bus.
Mom's Trusty Comeback: Listen, Joey, I've put guys in the hospital for less than that.

James: Mom, Suzie says I have the cooties.
Mom's Trusty Comeback: Oh, I'm sorry. You must be mistaken. I have a case of the CUTIES.

Chappy And The Birthday Suit

Recently, Chappy was telling the boys a story. I wasn't really paying much attention until I heard certain key phrases, wherein I dropped what I was doing and listened up! Because guess what? Dad is hilarious. So, the story picks up when I hear Dad telling the kids that he was in the shower one time and heard sirens (or something like that). He said he was afraid they were coming to arrest him for having too many wrinkles in his birthday suit. HAAAAAA!!!!! I told you he is hilarious. A few days later, I heard James tell Tyler in an derogatory tone: Tyler, you have wrinkles in your birthday suit!!! I realized he had not a blessed idea what a birthday suit was, so I enlightened him. I could see his 8 year old wheels turning, and then he realized what that meant from Chappy's story. He got a big grin on his face, followed by a snicker and a few giggles. It was so funny to watch his face as he put the story together in his mind.

Family Fun/Fire Night

Every Friday we have family fun night. I make pizza and we watch movies together. 

Now that the weather is a little warmer, we decided to add fire to our family fun night. 

I made a fire and we roasted marshmallows. I don't know what it is about those little puffs of corn syrup and air, but who can resist a roasted marshmallow? Not me. 

In her younger days, my sister used to eat marshmallows like they were going out of style. There was also a time when we would make a pan of rice crispy treats that would disappear before anyone every figured out we made them. Good times!

Tyler decided to roast his marshmallows from the cozy confines of the rain-barrel-turned-favorite-backyard-toy-of-the-year. He even had his blankie stashed in there just in case.

Tyler and the Dust Bath

 Did you know that chickens like to take dust baths?

 Well, they do. And so does Tyler apparently.

The chickens didn't seem to mind.

Sunny Days

 

When the temperature rises above 50, James busts out the shorts. 

 

I sit in the camp chair, unless the kids take over...

 

But they are pretty darn cute.

 

We made baking soda bombs

 

Books on the kitchen counter

And a little cuteness for good measure!

Of Uncles and Giant Straws

My kids happen to have two uncles who like to entertain them with a variety of questionable activities. I realize that this is what uncles are made to do, but I feel a bit shortchanged in that neither of them have produced offspring of their own, thus depriving me of being the BEST AUNTIE EVER. (hint, hint) My brother visited recently and brought the kids what must have been nearly 2 dozen of those giant pixie sticks. You know, the kind that have enough sugar in them to put you in a coma for days. I looked at those straws, and looked at my kids. Did they really need to pour tablespoons of rainbow-hued sugar down their gullets? Uh, no. Fortunately for me, they had never been introduced to pixie sticks and Tyler proclaimed them to be giant straws. I went with that and surreptitiously snipped the ends and poured the offending powder in the sink. Tyler caught a glimpse and asked what it was. I told him it was just yucky stuff they put in the straws. That was enough for him, and he happily went off with his new straw. That is, until my brother learned of my deception cleverness. He couldn't believe that I would deprive my little overactive angels of a sugar overdose, and took it upon himself to explain to the kids what was really inside those 'giant straws'. Uh, thanks, Nate? It all came out in the end because after the initial novelty of it they decided they didn't like pixie sticks much. Now, who wants to send their kids over for an afternoon with Auntie Meg? Pixie sticks free of charge.

The Chickens

The weather has been warming up lately and the layer of perpetual snow has finally melted away. (Please don't remind me that another batch is coming on Monday, because la, la, laaaaa, I can't hear you!!!!) This means the chickens have been free in the yard where they cluck happily and stick their fluffy butts in the air. All was fine and dandy last week until James decided to give one a spin in the rain barrel. Let me tell you, I've never seen a chicken run so fast in my life. As my friend aptly joked: it's gonna be scrambled eggs for that one! Yes indeed. Due to unscheduled events (read: life happens) I didn't end up butchering the older batch last fall, much to the relief of my vegetarian neighbor. They have since resumed laying so I will keep them around for a while. In other chicken news (snooooze?) there has been an interloper in the chicken coop. A gnarly-looking possum has found its way into the coop not once, but twice. The first time, in a moment of cityfied softness, I shooed it out of the coop. The second time was a bit more confrontational, best described as pitch-black stand-off with snarling possum, and the result: the possum left with a limp, and 5 years off my life. Stand-offs with snarling possums not recommended. Don't try this at home, kids. In short, if you made it to the bitter end of this post, the chickens are still alive, still laying eggs, and our shed continues to attract all manner of wildlife. Hope your weekend is rodent-free!

Curb Shopping, Creek Shopping?

So I think I've said it before, but trash picking (AKA Curb Shopping) is somewhat of a sport around here. I never remember doing this in Colorado, but here I have found many lovely things in other peoples trash. This week, my parents found a dresser for Katie and an awesome side table with cubbies for next to Tyler's bed. Tyler actually squealed when he saw it. Cute! This afternoon the kids and I went on a walk before dinner because, hello! It got up to 60 degrees! We were exploring along the creek and found a log that looked like it would make a good fire, and we do like a good fire around here. The kids gathered up a bunch of bark for tinder and were trying to figure out how to carry it home when Katie spotted a plastic bag in the bushes. Problem solved! I am pretty sure I am grooming three little MacGyvers. We came home with everything we needed to have a little fire after dinner. One the way back,  we found a really nice sled in the creek. It was in great shape and so we pulled it out and took it home. Creek shopping! I have found more stuff in the creek. Drives me nuts that people dump stuff in it. I think sometimes kids ditch stuff there because they stole it? I'm not sure. I have found a bike, 2 scooters and some sort of saw thing that was in a great shape and still works. We must have been a sight: lugging a log, a bag of bark, two scooters, miscellaneous helmets and a sled all the way home. And to top it off James took a pretty good flip off his bike and I had to tie up his elbow with a shirt so it wouldn't bleed everywhere. Super.

Broom Hockey and Other Olympic Shenanigans

This year was the first year the kids and I watched the Olympics together. They are getting to such a fun stage where they can enjoy something more cultured than Barney. OK, so maybe they were never into Barney but you get the point. They also love watching Chopped with me which is beyond AWESOME! I mean seriously, what are they going to make with the basket full of rattlesnake, soy sauce, gummy bears and bananas?! We aim to find out. But I digress.

After watching the Olympics they were inspired to have their own Olympic games, which involved this rollicking game of broom hockey. Shortly after these pictures were taken, the game made a mandatory move to the driveway. It might have been 23 degrees, but at least nothing got broken. Other Olympic sports we played were sledding (in honor of bobsledding), 'snowboarding', and the skeleton, which involved James riding headfirst across the driveway on the creeper. Who says those things are just for fixing cars! I made gold medals for them out of canning jar lids and ribbon, which were ever so classy and refined. Just like me. ha!

P.S. Isn't James ginormous?? He nearly comes up to my chin. I predict in about 8 years I will be the midget of the family. 

Pictures!

 This has been the winter of snow....

 ...and more snow.

 ...and ice...

 You get the point.

 Sometimes the snow was good for sledding, sometimes not. We went once on the ice and it lasted until the ice sliced through the bottom of the sled. And I realized, that could have been my butt instead. ha!

 James found my old 'Kids Shenanigans' book and resurrected the ol' finger in the box trick. Life has come full circle.

 He did it until he grossed himself out and decided that he lost his appetite forever, or at least for 12 minutes.

 One day I found these cuties reading in the laundry basket.

They do get along sometimes! Hooray!

Art!

 I recently set up a dedicated 'studio' room that is organized so the kids and I can be working on stuff together. It is basically the best thing since sliced bread. I have been doing a little more art lately, and I finally got around to finishing this sketch I had started way back when. It is from a picture I took when Katie was a baby. I would really love to do a series of hand drawings someday, or even tackle them in watercolor.

Still Alive

It has been a long time since I have regularly posted. We are going through a difficult time, but I feel like I am ready to get back to blogging. To get my feet wet again, here are a few kid-isms from the last few weeks:

• Tyler: I want a pet ant. I want an ant because you can't see its poop. A dog poops all day and you have to pick it up. That's why I want an ant.
• James: I wish Auntie Rachel was here. Me: Why? James: Because if she was here she would give me a whole bunch of whipped cream on my pie.
• Tyler: I have a hypopethis.  

And one more that requires a little back story. I had a dishwasher installed a few weeks ago and the installation guy had a heavy Brooklyn accent. Tyler talked his ear off, and when the guy went to haul out the old dishwasher, Tyler got really sad and said how he was going to miss the dishwasher. The guy said to him, in his heavy Brooklyn accent: "Tyyyla, there's a lot of things more beautiful in life than a dishwashuh." Although I agree with him, the dishwasher did look pretty darn beautiful after not having one for so long.

Bowling

Last weekend, Katie had her first birthday party to attend (from a school friend). Here is what I have discovered: BOYS + Birthday Parties = Indifference but GIRLS + Birthday Parties = The Social Event Of The Season. In the two weeks leading up to the event, I heard things like 'Mom, have you called Sierra's mom yet?' and 'Mom, Jamie said that today was the last day to call Sierra's mom and you didn't call!!!' and 'Mom, did you call Sierra's mom today? Can I go??' I RSVP'ed despite the fact that spending 2 hours in a sketchy bowling alley with Kindergarteners didn't sound all that appealing. Fortunately it ended up being entertaining, and I think Katie had fun too. First of all, I got to meet her friend Jamie's mom and apologize for Katie telling her kid that Santa was fake. We both got a laugh out of that, and she said that when Jamie had come home and told her what Katie said, she told her that some kids are so naughty that Santa doesn't come to their house, and their parents have to buy their presents. That apparently solved the problem and Katie's revelation did not stop their Christmas mojo. In regard to the bowling, they have made great strides since I went bowling in the days of yore. They had a plastic dinosaur slide (as opposed to the actual dinosaurs that were roaming the earth when I was in Kindergarten) which kids could use to slide the bowling ball into the lane. It was a genius invention, and no fingers were lost during the event. After a while, the kids got more confident and wanted to roll the ball themselves. By roll, I mean throw it awkwardly at the lane as it lands with a thunk so loud you look for a dent in the floor. Watching Katie was the best part. The apple has not fallen very far from the tree on that one, and she has inherited my disinterest and inability in activities requiring athleticism and coordination. She would take her turn then grab her friend's hand and they would dance and slid all over the floor with their slippery bowling shoes. The birthday girl's day would gently remind them that they were in the way, and they would move, only to dance back into the way a few moments later oblivious to the fact that some kids were actually interested in bowling. When it was her turn, I would have to remind her to get back to the lane and go. When she decided she was done using the slide, she would roll the ball at such a speed that I could have made a sandwich and a cup of coffee before it reached the pins. A few times, she hit the pins dead center, but apparently when your bowling ball is going approximately 3 seconds per foot it lacks the power to actually knock over more than 2 pins. In fact, one time she rolled it so slowly that it never reached the pins. It stopped a few feet short. I didn't even know that was possible.

Shenanigans

I have about 8 minutes til the Benadryl I took kicks in, so this post should go from bad to worse by the end. I seem to be having a rash of hilariously dicey conversations with the kids as of late. About a week and a half ago I was tucking James into bed and he made a comment about a penis, mine specifically. What?! I informed him in no uncertain terms that indeed women do NOT possess a dangling participle, thank the good Lord. He was puzzled and said 'Well, girls do but its flat.' Um, yeah. I told him that it had a different name, which led to the obvious 'well what is it called then?' as he giggled with his adorable grin. Doh! It occurred to me in that moment that IF I were to give him the name of the anatomy in question, I would likely hear it about 376 times before the novelty wore off. I may have learned that when I was all 'they might as well know the correct term' and taught them the word testicles. James actually declared in front of friends: "Look, Mom! There is the sheep with the giant testicles!" It was at that point that our friends looked at us in horror and forbade their precious children to associate with my heathen children ever again. Or something like that. Because of this, I decided that I wasn't ready to spill the beans and told him I would think about telling him but not that night. This led to a variety of guesses which combined the two facts he had determined: it was a penis, and it was flat. His guesses included penuflat, crap-nis (because hello...pee-nis?), poopulus, flatulus, and...wait for it.....flatipus. With no sense of the irony of that one. In case you are wondering, no, I was not able to maintain a straight face. And at this point, it would be a tragedy to actually tell him because my source of entertainment would be gone. Today, however, brought the advent of an awesome development in the case. Uncle Phil is here and brings with him all manner of rough-housing and Nerf wars. I went upstairs to get something and Phil accidentally shot me, in the well....uh.....you know. He yelled "Oh, I just shot you in the flapjack!" and you could see the light bulb turn on in James' brain. He exclaimed "Uncle Phil just told me what its called!!!!!"  .....Nice.

An Awkward, Hilarious, Befuddling Conversation

After dropping Katie off at school, Tyler and I headed to the Walmarts so I could soothe my self esteem regarding my running pants/leggings/tights/spandex issues. Just kidding. I actually had to get stuff but I did see some rumps that made me remember it could be much worse. All that, however, is beside the point. My little sidekick decided to pepper me with questions on the drive there, and it quickly turned dicey. I will try my best to reconstruct it for you. My inner monologue is in italics. 

Tyler: I was born in Colorado, right?

Me: No, you were born in New Jersey....in the ghetto, son, I birthed you in the ghetto.

Tyler: Where is New Jersey?

Me: Over the river, on the way to the farm.

Tyler: But then where were you when I was born? 

Me: I was there, because you were in my belly and then when you were born you came out of my belly. Oh, crap! This is not heading in a good direction.

Tyler: But how did I get out of your belly?

Me: Uh....there is a kind of a door, or an opening that babies come out of. What kind of explanation is that? A door? Hey, Bob, show 'em what's behind door number one!

Tyler: Where is the door? 

Me: Uh, well, its not really a door, more like an opening that moms have to get their babies out. It is by my legs. Huh? 

Tyler: When I came out of the bottom of your feet was it bloody?

Me: Uh, yes, and no. I mean, you didn't come out of the bottom of my feet. Santa dropped you off! It was simple! Easy! Less explaining!

Tyler: Then where did I come from?

Me: Inquisitiveness is overrated!!! Sort of at the bottom of my belly, top of my legs. Stop asking me questions!

Tyler: Oh. Was it bloody? Did the door have to stretch a lot? 

Me: What the heck, man! Where are you getting these questions??? OK, maybe you did watch a horse being born on some show recently...apparently you were paying attention. Well, sort of, and yes. It hurts to have a baby but then you came and I was so happy.

Tyler: And then your belly got small.

Me: Yes. Mostly.

Tyler: Is the door still there?

Me: Yes. 

Tyler: Why is it still there? Is it still stretched out?

Me: Is it naptime yet?? Yes, it is still there, but it is not big. This kid is too smart for his own good!

Tyler: So its stays there in case you have another baby? I would crawl back in the door and be your baby again if you want.

Me: No!!! That is not possible.

Tyler: When I was in your belly, how did I see through your blood?

Me: When is it ever going to end? You had your eyes closed, but you weren't in blood.

Tyler: I didn't eat in your belly did I? 

Me: You had a hose called an umbilical cord attached to your belly button that gave you food from me.

Tyler: To my belly button? And how did I grow a belly button from the bilical cord?

Me: That's just how God designed it. The cord dries up and falls off and then you are left with a belly button.

Tyler: How did I grow two belly buttons?

Me: You didn't. You only have one.

Tyler: Hey, is that Alaska?

Me: What? 

Tyler: Is that Alaska over there?

Me: No, that's the landfill. 

Wherein I breathed a sigh of relief that we had reached the Walmart parking lot and turned to new realms of conversation. I don't think I could have carried on much longer with that conversation! I couldn't make this stuff up if I tried.

Spoiling Santa

Katie came home yesterday and said she had told her friends that Santa was fake. Oh no!! My kid is THAT KID. I tried to explain to her that while we don't do Santa, some kids do and their parents have fun with the story of Santa and the experience of it all. And not to spoil their fun. She told me she had told two kids that Santa was fake. Today I helped in her class and her little friend looked at me incredulously and said 'Katie and my other friend told me Santa was fake! Can you believe that?' I had to play it cool and tell her what silly girls they were. The other little girl looked at me and said 'You know how I know Santa is fake? I found all my presents in my Dad's room.' Somebody got busted!!

Friends

You know you have yourself a keeper of a friend when you lament the size of your butt and she tells you "Meg, just go to Walmart and walk around. You will realize you have nothing to complain about." Thanks for the sage advice, Erin! :)

Random Thoughts: Otherwise Known As A Whole Lot Of Nothing

• It has come to my attention that my mother is cleaning her house an entire week before the company comes. Who does that? Isn't that, like, putting the cart before the horse or something? Apparently when you don't have a surplus of undersized but over-zealous children running about the house will actually stay clean. Interesting. Very interesting. I am just hoping there are no stray waffle remnants lurking in the guest bedroom, which incidentally is Katie's room. And in that case our guest is more likely to find a pair of scissors under the bed, or the missing roll of Scotch tape hanging from the curtains. 
• Chili: it has become apparent to me that I am something of a chili snob. In fact, I have come to believe that it just might fall into the same category as jewelry and artwork: don't just walk up to someone's house with a gift of your favorite framed Lisa Frank print and expect them to hang it on the wall. As in, chili/artwork/jewelry is personal. Yeah, so my analogy is breaking down faster than Donald Trump's hairpiece in the rain, but do you get my drift? Some people are soupy, watery chili people. Some people leave out the beans (blasphemy!) and others make a sweet chili (horrors!). The possibilities abound: pork, chicken or beef (ground or shredded), black beans, kidney or pinto and spicy/mild/bland? My mother in law used to make a pot of chili every now and then and she would put both pork and beef in it. At the time, Jeff did a valiant job trying to convince me that the white meat in it was not pork, but dog meat. The reason this whole earth-shattering (or mind numbing) topic has come up is because tonight the kids and I are tailgating with some friends in a church parking lot. Tailgating in a church parking lot? Is that legit? I can guarantee that over half our number will be comprised of those aged 10 and under, and that we will be visiting a live nativity scene afterward. But the tailgating involves chili, and it has caused me to spend approximately 6 seconds pondering what the chili will be like. And since I have nothing else to blog about, this is what you get. You're welcome.
• Last night Tyler told me he didn't want to be Tyler anymore. He wanted to change his name to Jesus. But that no one would let him, because you have to be really old to be named Jesus. I think I will call him Hey-soos from now on. 
• Last but not least, my backyard intruder notification system just went off to warn me there was a feline interloper. Would you like to know which brand of intruder notification system (INS) I use? It is called a Rhode Island Red and it sounds like this: BAWK! BAWK! BAWWWWWWWK!

Tyler

Tyler bought a giant plastic candy cane for Jeff for Christmas. He explained his purchase to Mom and I saying "it's shaped like a cane so he can use it when he gets old. And when gets dead I will put it in his pocket so he can have it forever.

Kid Funnies

Today Tyler and I were snuggling on the couch. Tyler happens to excel at snuggliness. He loves to snuggle, and who can complain? Not this girl. We happened to be curled up with a Christmas I Spy book, and he pointed out a doll: "Mommy, I'm going to get you a doll like this because you love dolls, right?" I said "Do you know what I love more than dolls?" After thinking for a second, he said "I will get you a Squatchy doll."

For Christmas I bought James a rifle. Don't get your undies in a bunch. Its a toy. The problem, though, lies in the fact that it is shaped...well...like a rifle. Not exactly easy to wrap without being obvious. Hey! Look at this really long package of socks Mom got me! said no one ever. This isn't James' first rodeo and the rifle was at the top of his list. I finally decided to pad it with paper to obscure the shape and just wrap it. On it I wrote To: Sir Francis Bacon From: Octavius Arnold and put it in my closet. As I had predicted, an excited little boy spent a bit of his quiet time closely analyzing the packages in the closet. Afterward, he told me that he had seen a package in my closet that he was SURE was his rifle. However, there were some strange names of people we didn't know, and that he didn't think it was his rifle after all. I asked him what names were on the package and he said "it says its to Sir Francis Bacon but I don't know who that is. And its from some weird name." I told him maybe it was for Uncle Phil and Katie suggested that maybe his middle name is Sir Francis Bacon. They all latched on to that idea and now I am pretty sure that they think the mysterious package is for him. I'll just let them think that!