Happy Halloween

Happy Halloween from the living-life-on-the-edge-with-our-scary-pumpkin-carvings crew.

The Old Orange Jack O'Lanterns They Ain't What They Used To Be

Kids got to carve their first pumpkins this year.

Looks like Campers was really digging it.

Same with the Z.

Course, there's these newfangled tools and stencils out now where you can create all sorts of fain-cee designs:

Bless Pa's heart. He corralled three kids, two pumpkins, and several sharp knives all while I was out of the house.

Brave Man.

But this was the result:

A whole bunch of squashy pumpkins.

And lest the grandparents worry about the skull and crossbones, that's not the half of it.

Wait 'til you see their tattoos.

(Snnnnnerrrrrrk.)

Cake! E'buddy Like Cake!

I like to call this hairstyle, "Maybe I should think about getting it cut."

But this post isn't about me. (It isn't?)

It's about the cake.

For Campers' 77th birthday.

Didn't Pa (and sons) do a faaaabulous job with the cake?

We invited the neighbor boys (ages 7, 6, 5) over to help celebrate and eat the cake.

Meanwhile, in the midst of the din, I realized...

My baby is seven.

S-E-V-E-N.

(In case you couldn't spell.)

Because You Can't Pick Just One

I've always said there's nothing better than a four-year-old.

But a two-year-old in costume?

TRUMPS.

WINS.

Suz was part of the photo shoot for the katu.com article too. Of course, she loved it.

"Knock? I can knock? And smile? And look cute?"

"Ooooooo-kaaaaayyyyy! Fun!"

(Yes, she's always that happy.)

(Except when she's mad. And then she's reeeeeaaaaaly mad.)

Reverse Trick-Or-Treating

I always like to think of new ways to torment the children, and making them do a photo shoot tops the list.

Pa and I were finalizing our latest article for katu.com and needed some itty bitty trick-or-treaters.

Yes, we bribed them with chocolate.

Yes, we entertained the neighbors with our incessant use of the phrase, "SMILE. NOOOOO, NICE SMILE."

Remember when we went reverse trick-or-treating last year?

Well, I wrote about it. Enjoy.

Boys And Their Toys

Campers was super excited to get an erector set for his birthday:

Pa and the boys spent an entire afternoon building this thing and that.

I gave Pa the Fatherhood Medal of Honor for spending so much time in "play."

This might surprise you, but I don't usually describe myself as someone who likes to "play."

Zig was close by the action, providing a little "atmosphere" for the event.

And yes, he's covering his nose for the VERY REASON you THINK he's covering his nose.

Boys.

Speaking of, I've got two words to say about this picture:

"Uncle Jared."

The boys finished building their Very Special Helicopter, and shortly after their great sigh of satisfaction, the Suz came along and destroyed it.

Building character. We're aaaaaaaaaalways building character.

It's His Party I'll Make Him Wait If I Want To

I figure it's every parent's prerogative to drive their kids nuts.

After all, my parents did it to me.

So when it came time to open presents on his birthday...

Campers had to wait A WHOLE FIVE MINUTES...

While his Ma bustled around getting everything ready...

Namely, finding the presents:

And after a frenzied two minutes, Campers was satisfied that he got everything he ever wanted, and *I* got the satisfaction of building his patience in the process.

Mmmmm-hmmmm.

Happy Birthday, dear... Here's the name of a good therapist.

Peter Peter Pumpkin Seater

Suz came up with this seat all on her own:

She was pretty pleased with herself, too--giving me looks that said, "Yo Ma! I'm cute aaaannddd clever."

(I keep good house, no? See the dental floss on the table? Niiiiice.)

Campers' Birthday Food

Campers got to dictate the menu for his birthday.

Breakfast: Froot Loops.

Lunch: Mickey D's, complete with germ play place:

Here's just two of the many benefits of having multiple siblings: always having someone around to fight play with AND getting to have birthday fun without it actually being your birthday.

And what did we have for dinner, you ask?

Hot dogs and french fries.

(But I sneaked a few peas in for good measure.)

Buw wah ha ha.

The Apple Grabbin' Gang

You'd never guess which girl grabbed an apple out of the bin. And then licked it.

Oh?

Did I hear you say, "Both of them?"

You are correct.

Those two two-year-olds are slipperier and sneakier than you'd guess, and they gain power in numbers.

"Girls are easier to raise."

Pffffttt.

Pumpkin Patch Gang: Part 2

Birthday boy:


Squashy brother:



Busy sister:


All picked out their own pumpkins.

You'd never guess who got to carry them (and the kids and a camera) back to the van.

The Pack Mules, a.k.a., The Parents.

Pumpkin Patch Gang: Part 1

I wrestled the camera away from Pa long enough to prove he really was at the pumpkin patch, and really did take the day off of work for his son. This is the kind of evidence we'll need for previously mentioned "therapy."

Since we were with another group of kids on our sneaky schoolish field trip, I once again got to marvel at the people staring at our ragtag group of kids and then asking, "Are those kids all YOURS?"

I just answered, "Three of them are. And one is a friend."

I like to let them wrestle it out from there.

Speaking of wrestling hugging, the girls got their chance:

And lemmetellya. There is nothing, n-o-t-h-i-n-g better than a four-year-old. Nothing.



We schlepped the kids onto a wagon for a hay ride:

I called the ride a raging success as none of the kids fell off the wagon.

People also ask me... "How do you get your two-year-old to sit still?"

It's a little therapy-inducing trick I like to call, "food:"

Works every time.

Birthday At The Pumpkin Patch

How is it that my son gets one year older and I age ten?

Zzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzz.

Anyway. When we last "talked," I mentioned that Pa was planning to take a day off of work to surprise his boy on his birthday.

Campers got up early on his birthday, saw that his Pa was still in bed, and starting giving ME the third degree. "Why's Dad still in bed! He's late for work! He shouldn't be here!"

I like to mess with my kids. Makes for interesting therapy later on.

So.

We took the morning and went to a pumpkin patch, a whole farm where you could actually See A Pumpkin Growing In Its Natural Habitat.

We took the neighbor girl with us, thinking that the only thing better than one two-year-old on an outing is two of them on an outing.

I like to call this picture, "Hey, everyone. DON'T look at the camera."

I would just like to mention that when you have three (four) kids--the expectations go WAY DOWN.

Just sayin'.

It's become so obvious to me that my boy is seven. S-E-V-E-N. His goofy boyishness has "shot" up a few notches:

Yes, that gourd is being used as a gun, in case you're wondering.

(Let's all have a collective laugh at those parents who "don't give their kids any guns.")

(Feelin' kinda snarky today.)

(TODAY?)

Oh, but here's the best part. Our outing for the day was all part of a school field trip where the kids actually had to learn something.

IT'S LIKE I CAN SEE THE THERAPY FEE RISING.

So here are the kids with the owner of the farm, playing a "guess the vegetable" game.

Which my kids totally rocked, I might add.

(IT'S MY BLOG. I CAN BE AS OBNOXIOUS AS I WANT TO.)

Oh, but I'm not nearly so evil of a teacher-mother as it might seem.

(Snnnerrrrk.)

While Pa and I were chasing a couple of wild horses girls, the boys hung out in a tree:

A bit of birthday bliss, for sure.

Lots more incredibly cute, squashy pictures to come. Be forewarned.

Birthday: It's Just The Beginning

I overdosed on fun. And then I overdosed on cake. But I didn't overdo the ice cream. I BECAME the ice cream.

So.

This solitary birthday picture will have to do:

Behold: The Nature Cake. And the seven-year-old boy. (And his Pa, who is nice and smart and creative but this post isn't really about him so let's keep moving right along.)

The neighbor boy saw the cake and said, "He's seventy-seven?"

I love kids.

And I love 'em so much I'm going to BORE YOU TO TEARS with several more birthday posts.

Don't hate.

(Speaking of hate, Pa's going to be particularly happy about seeing his face on the blog.)

Prepping For My Momiversary

You'd never guess someone was about to turn seven. Or maybe the missing teeth and goofy hand signs gave it away.

So there was a cake to be baked, and beaters to be licked:

The two beaters went to the boys... but you see who's in the background? Oh stink, I thought to myself. I'll never get the hang of this "three child" gig.

So I served up the spatula to the girl.

And then the boys and their Pa spent the evening decorating the cake. Campers informed me this summer that he was "no longer into superheroes."

Funny. That revelation came soon after his friends at the park decided that they were no longer into superheroes.

Ahem.

But one thing Campers is into is "nature," and so for months he's been talking about having a "nature cake." Pa and the boy have spent many, many nights planning the whole thing out.

Not that Campers gets great delight in planning, or anything.

Gene pool.

So here he is, in his element:

Sticking some gummy worms in the dirt.

Lots more pics to come.

Big day is Friday.

(Shhhh... don't tell Campers, but Pa decided to take a day off to celebrate with his boy. Can you say, "fill the love tank?")

Happy seven year Momiversary to me. I suppose it's a seven year Dadiversary too, but hey. I didn't see HIM pushing the baby out.

Moon Festival: Take 1

The Asian community celebrates the Moon Festival each fall, right at the time where there happens to be--you guessed it--a full moon.

And since our family is one-fifth Asian, and the festival involves cake, and the boys have recently learned what "mooning someone" involves, we decided to take part.

Sugar has a way of making any event brighter.

Oh? And by the way? People totally give Pa the Dork Face when he takes those close-up shots. I can almost hear them seething, "Ummmm, excuse me, sir?!?!?!? Will you stop breathing on the refreshments and take that lens and shove it?"

It's a cross I have to bear.

Just know that expert photography comes at a price.

Humiliation.

Mine.

Back to the sugar.

Suz heartily approves:

Mooncakes, mmmm, mmmm, mmmm. Chubby cheeks, num, num, num, num, num.

Coconut filled and sure as shootin' gar-un-teed to get the blood sugar reeling.

Speaking of kids with a buzz, our local library was crammed filled with them. We were trying to listen to some Asian-style music, but mostly we heard murmur murmur murmur.

And since that Moon Festival celebration was so fun, we decided to do another one that same week. (More on that later.)

Kultured... yep, that's what we are.

Oh, and desperate to get out of the house.

For free food.

A Faux Hawk In The Making

More pics from this summer.

Love that Zig.

So squeezable, so goofy.

So willing to just be himself while the whole world laughs.