Sandra Boynton Take 3

We own a handful of board books. Many I can recite in my sleep (what sleep?) thanks to having read them a gazillion times.

One time Pa and I were on a road trip with Wee Campers, when there was just one child, oh it must have been so quiet, and so easy, and where was I? Oh. So he started howling his fool head off, because he knew we were lost and on a long trip and he was stuck in that blasted seat.

So what did we do?

We started reciting some Sandra Boynton books. By heart. And it calmed him down, but Pa and I soon did a double-take at each other and thought:

"Good gravy. It has come to this. We are parents."

Gone were the days of quoting Shakespeare.

Course, those days never existed either.

Carry on.

And tell me your favorite children's book.

Fidget Smidget

While I read out loud to the kids, they are allowed to play with a few select toys, as long as they listen and keep quiet and sit still and answer thirty-seven comprehension questions to the satisfaction of the overbearing Ma. Well, I happened to be engrossed in our latest book the other day, and when I glanced up, I saw this:

Giggled like a school girl, that I did. I always did have a thing for the class clown.

Oh, It's Just One Of My Obsessions. That's All.

One of my favorite mental games to play (and there are many!) is to ask myself these questions...

"What were we doing yesterday?"

"What were we doing one week ago today?"

"What were we doing one year ago around this time?"

And since I have a bad memory, this game can get to be a bit obsessive.

I've learned to stop askin' the Pa to provide the answers to these questions. I can take only so much of the "Crazy Lady" look.

Which is totally deserved, of course.

So Easter. One year ago. Look at my babes:

Especially the little one, who was still "new" to us. Not even sitting up (or eating chocolate).

But here they all are now, the boys standing tall and proud, and Sister Susie making a run for it.

Can't blame her.

She's got me for a Ma.

Susie's Introduction to Sugar, Or Shall I Say "Easter."

What's she goin' for??

Peeps.

Of course. Loaded with food coloring and sugar.

All gone!

Oh? Did someone say chocolate? What's chocolate?

(And aren't those boyz looking dapper in their new matching Transformer shirts?)

(Leftover peeps sent to the person who can correctly identify all four of the Transformers on the shirts. I'll get you started. "Optimus Prime.")

Thank you Easter Bunny.

Caw, caw!

Oh, You Know. Easter Candy.

I realized there were several Easter shots that I hadn't bored you with shown you yet.

There's nothing like a search for sugar and artificial food coloring to really perk up the Easter parade:

Ooo! Ooo! Let's see what's inside!!

One jellybean!

One piece of gum!!

You didn't think I'd transformed into a FUN Ma overnight, did you?

(I am still snickering over the pumpkin shirt appearing in the Easter pics. That ought to be fun to scrapbook.)

Crazy Walkin' Girl

She's picked up the pace, and lost most of the clumsiness.

One of her favorite activities is to walk up and down the sidewalk of our block.

With the rest of us toddling behind, of course.

Valentine's Day Love

Since that trip down memory lane took all of February (and some of March), I missed posting our boring Valentine's Day pics.

Well, except this one:

Campers decided to wear the card he made for Pa.

Such love and personal care went into the making of that card, lemmetellya.

Go Ahead, Make My Bed

Bed Head, that is.

Not much can compete with a good case of bed head when it comes to the Hmmmph-of-a-Laugh Entertainment Scale.

Then again, there is Bed Face as well.

Hmmmph.

Mr. Artsy Smartsy

Of all the school subjects, Art is one of my deficiencies.

Oh, there are more. History, literature, poetry, handwriting.

Maybe I'll just stop that list right there before I get a larger Inferiority Complex than I already have.

So back to my good friend "Art."

Our art classes at home have involved such glamorous things as "coloring books" and "crayons." Sometimes, when I am feeling more adventuresome, we pull out the colored pencils.

But let's not overdo it.

It so happens that I live with a resident ar-teest, whose abilities and persistence reach levels that I can't possibly emulate, only admire.

And this kind Pa has agreed to take on our home school art classes for you know, forever.

At least that's what *I* signed him up for.

So while we were signing our paycheck over to Stuff Mart the other night, I saw that Pa had a bunch of Play Doh in the cart. "What's that for?" I asked.

"Well, we're going to MIX IT," he said.

[INSERT BUG EYED MA]

Smelling salts would have been handy about then.

But this was no haphazard mixing. Check it out:

Kids were learning about "tint" (mixing various amounts of white) and "shade" (mixing various amounts of black).

And until that very moment, I didn't even know there was a difference between "tint" and "shade."

Good heavens!! That man is a genius!!!!

Or, maybe he just paid attention in art class, while I was busy watching the boys eat glue.

(By the way? That trick is not at all impressive to the female crowd.)

But this is:

And once they lumped the colors all together I took a deep breath and thought, "All for the sake of art edu-ma-cation."

An education which, so far, has not included the consumption of glue.

Hello, New York?

On call with the editor of Vogue.

Resurrection Sit Down And Be Quiet Eggs

I love those Resurrection Eggs.

Really!

(What? I can be serious!! I don't always have to snark!)

So here's the search for all twelve of the specially filled eggs:

It always amazes me how a little hide-n-seek game can bring such glee:

Sister Susie helped Ma sit down and collect the eggs.

Sometimes I love being the Ma.

Then there was the telling of the story. If you aren't familiar with the Resurrection Eggs--each egg contains a verse and a small item to help tell the story of Jesus death, burial, and resurrection.

You know, kinda "Eastery." A nice mix between "eggs" and "Jesus."

There were about six fights over who got to open which egg, who got to hold the item, who got to read the verse, and who got to stick the whole egg in her mouth. Six fights over twelve eggs? I guess those are pretty good odds. 50% chance of fighting; 50% chance of peace.

Speaking of "odd," check out this family shot:

Goofy Boy, Geeky Ma, Goon-eyed Boy, Grandpap-posin' Girl.

Learnin' the love of Jesus, one Resurrection Egg at a time.

Community Easter Egg Hunt

Friends of mine roped me into helping with the neighborhood Easter Egg Hunt. Now--don't get me wrong. There's nothing I like better than a good task list, and the chance at bossing a large number of people around.

So while I was off managing the wind and its effects on our Neatly Arranged Prize Booth, Pa handled the kids for the hunt.

Campers sported the I Ain't Picking Up Those Eggs Mood, which soon became There Are No Eggs Left For Me To Pick Up Nightmare Of A Fit.

In the midst of 300 gleeful gatherers and their parents.

Those moods?

Recessive gene.

But the Zig was thrilled with his five eggs and I was over-the-top happy that for the first time in 73 months it wasn't raining in the Pacific Northwest.

So Campers' fit eventually stopped, and neither of the kids picked up brown "eggs," left "behind" by the slew of neighborhood dogs.

All's well that ends well, I suppose.

Easter Best

The girls:

(And don't spread the word, but Suz wore the same dress she wore on Easter Sunday last year. I am simply a Social Faux Pas waiting to happen.)

(Oh? You don't believe me?)

(See?)


And then there's the boys, celebrating The Risen Savior with all the joyfulness they could muster:

But the Spiderman tattoos! They were jumpin' and happy.

It's our Easter Best. Take us or love us.

Eeeeeaster Bunny's Comin' To Town

Boys wanted to be the Easter Bunny for this pic:

And you know me. I'm a big fan of the Easter Bunny.

Snark, snark.

You can see that Zig had his pumpkin shirt on, just in time for the holidays.

So Pa, the resident Ar-teest, did some stipple painting with the boys. Not "steeple," "stipple."

Mmmm-hmmmmm.

That's why I asked him to be the Art Teacher next year.

Bu wah ha ha.

Campers was proud of his painting, but not so much that he wanted to show his face:

You might notice in that picture that "Jesus" has equal square footage as "Roy G Biv."

And that book Campers is reading? Something about "How to float away?" Ai yi yi. Who picks these things up from the library, anyway??!?

So here's Zig, peeking out:

"Looks like stipple painting to me, but I'll say Jesus."

Why I Hate Food Coloring, The 2008 Edition

What is it about egg coloring that sends my blood pressure straight through the roof?

Oh wait. Everything sends my blood pressure straight through the roof.

You'd think that after 6 1/2 years of attacks on my obsessive-compulsive self parenting I would know better. Mess schmess.

But somewhere----sometime----somebody decided that the best way to celebrate Jesus rising from the dead was to color some eggs.

Mmmmm hmmmmmm.

So here we are with two small children (the youngest and busiest was napping) and five large cups of super-colored water.

Speaking of obsessive-compulsive, Pa had to fulfill his every Easter Egg Desire and create one that was just right for his boy.

"This is fun, Dad! When do we get a turn?"

And just when we'd spilled so much liquid that the table was green and our fingers were blue, we moved on to the egg tattoos.

Egg tattoos in the shape of Spiderman, who looked awfully happy about that empty tomb.

Oh, I am just full of vinegar today.

(Today?!?!)

Naturally, a good handful of tattoos ended up on the boys, just in time for their Easter Sunday Best:

Eventually Campers decided to act out the (long-haired) Easter Bunny, popping in and out of the pictures:

And once each boy got his four (I was being generous!!!) eggs done and in the carton, I experienced a little New Life myself.

Happy Easter.

I love Peeaaa Greeeeen!

The Suz went to a play date, all by her beloved self, over to her girlfriend's place next door.

She came back all gussied up, with a head band in her hair.

She's my girly girl, with an extra side of snark.

Can't figure out where that comes from.

Nature, nurture. Nature, nurture.

Race Car Buildin'

First Saturday morning of each month, Home Depot has a free (free!) project for kids to build.

This month's project was race cars, but the best part of the gig was the free (free!) orange aprons:

Don't think I've seen anything as cute as that in a while.

Just A Swangin'

There's something a bit wild, a bit nice, and a bit mind-boggling about having three children, ALL MINE, lined up in a row at the swing set.

How did I end up with three kids? Remind me again?

Anyway.

There's the efficiency of this swing set arrangement, for sure. I stood in a three-foot square and kept all three troops occupied at the same time. Not even TV can compete with that.

Then there's the humor of seeing my six-year-old in a baby swing:

And the Goof that is his brother right nearby:

And the princess, who loves all things wild-n-crazy, or maybe she is just pleased because her Mama finally let her have some fun:

Just a swangin'.

Guh Guh!

The Suz is working up a good four or five words to speak to us before her second birthday.

1. Mama
2. Dada
3. "Moh" ("more," as in, "food")
4. "UUUGGGHHHHH"

And sometimes she'll spit out "guh guh," which is her way of saying "good girl."

And that she is.

(Who needs to use words when she's got a smile like that?)

Reading Nook and Cranny

All three kids, stuffed in the coat closet, reading:

Makes a Mama proud.

Also makes me want to downsize to a 200 square foot house.

Who needs a school room when you've got a coat closet??!?!?!

Move over Beverly Hillbillies, the Geeks are in town.

Another Adoption Story

If international adoption stories are your thang, go ahead and check out this journey to Vietnam, written by one of my Friends In Real Life. She and her husband are there now, and will meet their son today (Wednesday 3-19).

And if you thought *I* cornered the market on snark, think again. Kelly is a great mentor of mine, teaching me all the fine ins and outs of how to be truly and utterly snippety and saga-y.

Bless her heart.

And to think that she has met me, gotten to know me, and continues to call me her friend is something worth writing about.

Enjoy the journey to Vietnam. I know *I* will.

Love Me Some Clearance Aisles. Oh, And The Kids Too.

Superman and Optimus Prime now live at my house:

(Thanks to some new pajamas. From the clearance rack.)

And here are the boys, showing me their capes:

To which Zig finally got a clue and said, "Hey! I guess I don't gotta cape!"

And a nice action shot of the man of steel:

And the leader of the Autobots (and his faithful teddy bear at the side):

It's no wonder I sleep like a rock. I've got two of my very own superheroes running me ragged from sunup to sundown resting under my roof.

Just Plain Cute, That's Why

The Lion, the Witch And The Wardrobe

Kids were really excited to pose for this picture:

They were in the middle of a movie, after all.

But let me back up.

(Beep...beep...beep...)

A few weeks ago, Pa read The Lion, the Witch and the Wardrobe to the boys while Susie squawked in the background.

I suppose she was just playing the part of the White Witch.

(Doesn't Suz know that the Ma always gets to be the witch?)

I digress.

So once the book was done, we waited our allotted month or so before retrieving our copy of the movie from the library. And the kids loved it, and loved Aslan, and did not develop any nightmares from watching the wolves or the wraiths.

But I did notice that by the end of the film, the boys were in the same chair as their Pa.

Obviously they thought their Ma was not Man Enough to Save Them.

Pfffft.

Guess they all know who the Real Witch is of this crew.

(Bu wah ha ha.)

Good times, good book, good movie.