Pajama Punks

The boys got some new gear--both new swim goggles and Campers a new helmet. They had to put on a fashion show, right before bed.

Only I suppose they wouldn't call it a "fashion show."

Campers had to take a minute to fix the left lens.

Ahhh, much better. Where's a makeup artist when you need one?

Well, who needs to fuss much with those two boys anyway. Superhero pajamas, groovy goggles, and a bike helmet.

Couple of good-lookin' punks to me.

Strawberry Fields Forever

I chose the Saturday to go strawberry picking when I hoped to "beat the crowds." Well, we racked up one success after another, as we not only beat the crowds, we also beat the strawberries. White strawberries are edible, right?

Well anyway, we also beat the heat! The boys shivered as they gazed at the wide open field:


But we were not deterred. Campers picked some berries:


Zig ran down the "aisles." Maybe he was trying to keep warm.


What few berries we did find, the boys assured me they were good.


And here was the measly pile of berries:


Which were mostly picked by Yours Truly, and lasted about three minutes after we got home.

Free Wheelin'

Campers is a whiz on his bike now. He wants to ride it every minute of every day.

Which means that *I* get to watch him ride it every minute of every day.

The glorious thing about his bike is that we painted it bright orange and yellow, so locating Campers way across the park is a breeze. Now if he could just wear a bubble of protection around him 24/7, we'd all be happy.

My baby's growin' up.

Nature Race, Er Walk

When the sun comes out, so do the people of the Pacific Northwest.

So on one of those shiny days, the kids and I headed out for a nature walk, led by the friendly folk at the parks 'n' rec. Each child was given a cute ladybug backpack, filled with all kinds of tools for exploring the wonders of creation. Or, in our case, making bug eyes at each other.


Zig finally got around to using his magnifying glass to check out a leaf:



And the boys matched the colors on their "necklaces" (very manly ones, of course) to the colors they saw in nature. The green piece got a lot of use.



Oh! But then! Our leader said that the kids were going to play "Poohsticks," and I thought Campers was going to simply blow a gasket from the excitement. Course, he was doing a fine job of hiding his happiness about his knowledge of "Poohsticks."

Here he is, watching for his stick to appear:


And here are the three troops, dressed in matching orange shirts for the sake of their mother's sanity:



When I showed up to sign us all in, I noticed that all the other moms had just one child listed. Mmm-hmmm. I was the Nutso that decided to take three small kids on a nature hike. With steep hills and rivers and slugs, oh my! And even though the Suz was free! And walking! I kept a tight hold on her most of the time. I think her arm grew a couple of inches that morning, from her valiantly trying to run away, and me holding her back.

Knowing that, you should be impressed that I took any pictures at all. Course, I had to pin the girl between my knees to use the camera, or to get tools out of the backpacks, or to put this silly mask on (and off and on and off) the Zig's face:


We were a circus routine, for sure.

And here are the three rings to that circus--Campers, Zig, and the Suz:


I don't know how much nature we enjoyed that day, but we sure blew off some steam as we wiggled and raced through the trail. Oh, and we also provided a whole slew of people a morning full of entertainment.

I do what I can.

Squeaky Shoes

As we got the troops ready to head out to the park, I noticed that Pa had put the Squeaky Shoes on the girl.

What happened next was a lively discussion about "the shoes are a great idea" versus "the shoes will annoy the heck out of everyone."

The Squeaky Side won, but there was a backup pair of shoes in that bag, oh yes there was.

We bought those shoes in China, and if you aren't familiar with the concept--the footwear squeaks with every step. Hence the name, "squeaky shoes."

If I'm going to fast for you, let me know. I can try explaining it again.

Fortunately, once we got out into the wide open park, the noise was more helpful than irritating.

"Let your feet do the squawking," I like to say.

I Have Three Kids. When did THAT happen?

Not sure which is the greater miracle--that I carried two of these babes in my belly or one I did not.

Why Parenting Is So Exhausting

And why Pa is in such good shape.

I find it hard to lose the belly fat when sitting on the sidelines taking pics.

Pa will be over 40 when his last child is learning to ride a bike.

Snnneerrrrrk...

Oh wait. So will I.

Something Seedy About This

The Great and Almighty Home Depot lured our chitlins in for their free monthly build-a-thing that-just-takes-up-space-in-my-house but-isn't-it-such-fun for kids.

While we were there, the store sang its Siren Song, and we were immediately drawn to the Seed Section.

We marveled at all the Green Goodness that was just waiting to die a quick death grow in our little plot of land.

Suz couldn't resist the pull from the puddle. Yep, had to stomp through that one.

(Sorry about the doofy look on my face. You can take your complaints to the Management, who happen to be my Mom and Dad.)

Zig was insistent on choosing a vegetable that started with "z," which ended up being zucchini. I mean, is there any other vegetable that starts with "z?"

Campers was the lucky one who got to choose corn, cantaloupe, and carrots.

And now I spend my days wondering how I can will those seeds to sprout.

Or, how I can randomly toss store-bought produce out in the yard and call it "done."

Wonder if the kids would notice?

Boys' Night Out

Pa took the boys to the children's museum on their "free entry" night.

We are khlass-see like that. Who cares if there is a horde of people! IT'S FREE.

Speaking of free edu-tainment, here's the Zig and a toothbrush:

And the two boys goofing off at the "grocery store:"

Of course no children's museum is complete without the water mess area:

And then there's the Zig with a dinosaur puppet nearly bigger than he is:

I stayed home with a sick Suz, but no matter. My evening would have been spent chasing after Susie the Spaz, anyway. And lemmetellya, hanging out with Susie The Squawking Snot-Machine was exponentially more pleasant.

Ziggyzoos

Batman lives on, even while he sleeps:

I never wore Underoos as a kid. Might be because they were made for boys. (Not like that mattered--right, Mom??!?!?)

And I don't know what's more cute--the Batmanaroos or the ham hock legs coming out of them.

(Hey. He comes by those thick thighs honestly.)

(Not ALL of us can have pencil-thin thighs like TWO OTHER members of this family.)

Cellulite carriers, unite.

Popsicle Face

Pa was feeling some felicity on Father's Day and succumbed to The Singing Ice Cream Truck at the park.

(An experience this Rural Gal has yet to have.)

But seeing the Popsicle Faces when they walked in the door erased all trace of bitterness. If only I could say the same for the stains on the shirts.

I love summer.

Salon De La Suz

Sister Susie's latest pastime (besides doing abdominal crunches) is brushing other people's hair.

"Brushing" being a euphemism for "beating other people's heads."

We are a long suffering lot, all in the name of Keeping Baby Happy.

Eating Crow

Both boys came running into the house today to tell me all about The Birds that were Making A Lot of Racket outside.

And when I looked, there were indeed twenty or fifty o' dem birds, all cawing and circling the top of a tree not far from our house.

It was like Alfred Hitchcock had come to town.

Here's how the conversation went down:

Campers: "Mom! What is all that noise about?!?!?"

Ma: (pulling from my reservoir of Very Limited Knowledge) "Ummmm, I dunno. Maybe they're telling each other there's a tasty meal at the top of that tree."

(Big pause.)

Campers: "So why don't they just hush up and eat?"

(Another big pause, as I dig even deeper into the Land of Make-Believe.)

Campers: "Oh. I know. I'll bet they're praying before they eat."

[Insert lots of raucous giggling, enough to drown out the sound of the birds. Whose cawing went on for over an hour.]

Guess It's Back To Fighting Over MY Broom

It wasn't long after Sister Susie's birthday party that "someone" broke the new broom.

And that "someone" certainly wasn't Campers and it most definitely wasn't the Zig. Suz isn't strong enough to break the thing, oh and whaddyaknow? I happened to see the clone of my four-year-old boy stomping on the toy.

Good thing I never lied as a kid.

I left that up to my brother.

Snnnnnneeeeeeerrrkkkkkkk.

Father's Day, For The Early Birds

Our collective parental units taught us well. We celebrated Father's Day on Saturday, "ta beat the crowds."

And nothing says "American Hallmark holiday celebration" like a good pig out at a Chinese buffet. Mongolian Grill, to be exact.

Between the two of us, Pa and I had the guys at the grill crying "uncle."

It's the skinny dudes who can pack the food away, ya know.

Speaking of tall and slender, here's our boy, who--against my wishes--keeps growing up:

And his brother who chose to eat Chinese food just because his brother did. Oh, and maybe because that's all that was on his plate.

And the girl, who really did eat more than forks and spoons for dinner.

Happy Father's Day to our dads, those who are dads, those who hope to be dads, and those who have dads.

So. What's on your plate this weekend? (I mean that both literally and figuratively.)

Weird Pockets

Campers, in his never-ending supply of resourcefulness, made a "pocket" out of paper and masking tape. Stored in it was a pair of chopsticks.

And just so you know? When the kids are quiet, it doesn't always spell t-r-o-u-b-l-e. It sometimes spells w-e-i-r-d.

I laughed so hard at his creation that I'm sure he'll need self-esteem boosters for years.

(All this pocket talk reminds me of "Hot Pocket." Watch and laugh.)

Asia Fest

A while back, we went to "Asia Fest," an annual event where the collective Asians of the city strut their stuff. Music, food, auto insurance, you name it.

As I looked around at the crowd, I asked Pa, "Who do you think this event is geared towards?"

And he said, "Asians."

Same planet, different worlds.

So there was music:


Crafts:



Acrobatic juggling (which reminded us of the Real Thing in Beijing, but lemmeetellya, watching an amateur "drop the ball" is just as entertaining, if not more):


Fan dancing:


Cute kids dancing:


And drumming:


Then we fed the kids an authentic Asian meal--peanut butter and jelly sandwiches:


Followed by a rousing stop by the dragon boat:


And, tempted as we were, we didn't buy any auto insurance. But we did gather a few stares, being one of the few white families (with an Obviously Not Ours We Must Have Kidnapped That Baby) in attendance. A Day In The Life, for sure.

Flying The Play Airplane Skies

Consolation prize at Susie's birthday party was a wooden airplane.

The boys loved them.

Including Pa the Cool Dude Cousin.

Campers even tore himself away from the party to pull out the paints all by himself, leaving them unattended to give a little extra weight decoration to one of the wings.

But all good things must come to an end. This Ma (accidentally!) bumped Zig's toy with her hip, grounding the plane. (Yes, my hips are that wide.) And soon after that, I clumsily stepped on and crushed the wing of Campers' plane.

Can't take me anywhere.

Friendly skies, my foot.

Literally.