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.