so long sucker!

a girl and a thumb

the love affair began almost immediately.  I tried to come between them, to no avail.  Eventually I realized they belonged together and allowed their love to flourish and grow. 

 

 

But their love story does not have a happy ending.  As some romances do, they would have to go their separate ways. 

It's been sweet but it's time.

 

 

 p.s. as I searched through my hard drive for pictures for this I found zero pictures from 2013 of her sucking her thumb.  zero.  Way to go girlie...Mumma's proud. ♥

they refuse to admit they are not lapdogs

 

 

hmmmmm....I wonder why that is?

 

They're magically delicious!

Behold this years Leprechaun trap!  I love the attempt at camouflage with the pine branches and the helpful arrow pointing the way in. 

Sadly, as in years past, they were not successful in capturing a single leprechaun.  But once again, they did succeed in luring the cat into the trap. 

 

Sam wondered aloud if the cat was scaring away any potential leprechauns.  To which Teresa replied, "Nah, I think they do get stuck in our trap and the cat is eating them." 

 

best present ever

I like going through the kids' backpacks at the end of each day.  You never know what you're going to find in there.  Most of the stuff I pull out ends up in the recycle bin or the trash, but every so often you find one you just want to hang on to. 

 

Kate brought this home from school the other day.  What a wise little girl.  She understands that family is a  gift worth more than any book, toy, or piece of clothing.  And she cherishes us with all of her heart.  Her great big incredible heart. 

And I thinks it's quite comical and  worth mentioning that part of the reason she likes us is because we feed her. 

Girl on fire

Easter came around, as it tends to do this time of year. My kids can't wait for the Easter bunny to pay a visit and leave a basket full of candy that they'll never eat.  Seriously.  The kids run around looking high and low for their baskets as soon as they wake up.  They are frantic as they search because not one of them wants to be the last one to find their basket.  Once the baskets have been found they are forgotten.  My kids have had a total of one chocolate egg from their baskets.  This has been the norm since they've had teeth.  I don't get it.  When I was a kid my Easter basket had nothing in it but Easter grass before I was served breakfast. 

One of our Easter traditions has been to attend the Easter vigil at our church.  I remember my Mom taking my brothers and sisters and myself to the vigil and it's such a dramatic way to start the holiday.  I still remember standing in the dark church and watching as the light was passed from one person to another until the church was filled with candlelight.  It is awe inspiring.  I still find it awe inspiring. 

My children don't love the length of the Mass, but they too adore the drama of the plunge into darkness and the slow return of the light.  I am in the fifth year of bringing the kids to the vigil.  At first, watching them holding lit candles in such close quarters was nerve wracking . No, more than that, it was a slight form of torture.  I was positive that one of them was going to light themselves or a neighbor up in flames.  I thought now that they're older, I would relax more this year.  Sadly, after this years drama, I don't think I ever will.  And really, it's all my fault.

I was on the end and had my candle lit by an alter server.  I passed the light to Sam, he lit up Katie's candle, who lit Teresa's, and she passed the light on to Joe. I blissfully gazed around at the softly lit church.  Even our supermarket church looks like a beautiful place of worship under those circumstances.  I kept darting little looks at the kids and every so often hissed "hold your candle away from your head!" Katie in particular was making me nervous.  She was looking all around the church too, but every turn of her head caused her hair to come very close to flames. I tried whispering to her to hold still which was not all that effective.  So I leaned across Sam, taking care to lean away from his candle.  However, Mr. Nosy wanted to get in on what  I was saying to Katie, so he leaned over too, and in the process tilted his candle right into my hair.  Yes, my hair.  Which started to crackle and burn.  Really.  My hair was on fire.  In church.  On the Holiest of Holy days. 

Without missing a beeat, I reached up and smothered the little fire and kept right on scolding my daughter.  I did get a glimpse of the teenage boy's face in front of me when I became a human candle and it was hysterical.  After the moment passed, I sat down in my chair and had to stifle my giggles.  I kept picturing in my mind this beautiful moment and people taking in the serene and spiritual scene around them when, whoosh! Me and my hair ruin the moment.  I am still giggling. 

missing in action

Where to begin?  How to start?  Do I pick up and pretend I never stopped or do I go in for a long winded explanation about life and busy and busy and life? eh, you know.  I missed a week and then another and before you knew it nearly six months had gone by. 

Can I just start by saying how very very tired I am?  Cripes! It seems like I go to bed immediately after dinner and still need to drag my ass out of bed when the alarm goes off in the morning.  I blame the kids, and the dogs, and the cat. Oh my God! The damn cat.  She is seriously the bane of my existence.  She knows, I swear she knows, when my alarm is set to go off and she deliberately wakes me about 30 minutes prior to.  Just be a pain in my ass. 

The dogs hold a close second to being the bane of my existence.  In order to leave the house nowadays, I have to barricade my kitchen cabinets and any other potential source of food.  I stash food stuffs into the microwave and oven to prevent them from being swallowed whole by the dogs while we're gone.  They are like the geniuses of the canine world because they have figured out how to open my cabinets, which are childproofed mind, to get at the food stuff.  So I must place chairs which are weighted down with things in front of the cabinets.  I was hiding the Easter candy in the hall closet but they ferreted that one out and I came home to just the empty bags.  They ate all the jelly beans, all the chocolate eggs (foil and all), and all the marshmallow peeps.  The new Easter candy is back in the hall closet but I have two baby gates, one of top of the other, in the door of the closet to keep it safe. They have also learned how to open the diaper pail.  You must step on the pedal in order to make the top pop open.  Not a problem at all for my mensa pups.  So even that is now childproofed.  Because, um...yuck.   It would be a lot easier to just crate them when we leave but we like to keep them out to discourage robbers.  I'm paranoid like that. 

My boy lost his very last baby tooth the other day.  His very last baby tooth.  Is it weird I wanted to save it?  I tossed all his other teeth without a thought but this one I held on to for just a bit before finally rolling it off of my hand into the trash.  How is it possible he can be done with baby teeth?  Why does childhood have to rush by in such a blur?  He's becoming such a funny young man.  At night he likes to come in while I'm reading in bed and talk.  Our discussions range from him reciting plays of football games played over thirty years ago to his fears about death to how much he loves his math teacher to who will be nominated to political positions and what that might mean for us to minecraft and why creepers shouldn't be allowed to destroy anything while you're sleeping.  Little boy and young man co-existing happily.  We've yet to see much teenager in him yet and for that I am thankful.

Because his ten year old sister is more than making up for the lack of teenage attitude in him.  Oh my Lordy, does that girl have attitude and then some.  It's a darn good thing she's cute, otherwise I would have sold her to the gypsies.  Which reminds me...have you ever seen the show about the American gypsies?  My daughter has, and she absolutely lusts after their blinged out clothes, shoes, and accessories.  Yeah, I had better start self medicating myself now in preparation for her teen years.

So, in short, I'm here, still navigating through each day and taking on it's challenges with humor, chocolate, and a little bit of wine.  Because everything is better with chocolate (just ask my dogs) and wine. 

never wake a sleeping baby

 

In the mornings, I often gate the dogs into the kitchen.  With all the comings and going as kids are dropped off or running out the door to catch a bus, it's just easier not to worry about them getting in the way or worse, getting out.  They do not like this.  Not one little bit.  The two of them will sit in front of the gate whining like a two year old the entire time.

 

Unless of couse, I am in there with them. I stand at my counter fixing breakfasts and lunches and this is what happens when I do.



And like any good pet parent I stand as still as I can, so as not to awake my slumbering babies.  When I do need to move, I ever so carefully sllllllliiiiiiiiiiiiiiide my feet out from under their heads.  I know, I am nuts.