Days, afternoons, silly smiles.
It’s a simple life, but I like it.
(I’m jeannettg on insta if you want to follow!)
Park visits with cousins are the best.
Especially because mom is kinda anti-park.
I may be one of the only people in the universe who does not want to marry the Pumpkin Spice Latte.
It’s quite the “thing”.
The PSL makes the rounds on instagram like a rockstar.
I’ll stick to my java chip. And the associated 1 million calories.
“Mommy can we go to the popcorn store?”
I wasn’t in the mood for hauling everyone to Target so I found a bag in the back recesses of the pantry.
It was probably stale. Who knows.
Good thing she’s only four and her idea of Gourmet is dinosaur shaped chicken nuggets.
Andy’s 33rd birthday was last week.
The kids…i.e. Lucy…devised an entire plan: “We will hide and turn off the lights and when Daddy comes in we will jump up and yell SURPRISE!”
They then begged me to take them to the store to buy “party plates”, and they picked out the ever classic TMNT for their dear old dad. And then conspired and planned and schemed the entire week over details. I often overheard them discussing the details of the “party” while playing. It was like Pinterest status planning for the under 6 set.
Unfortunately, Dad was traveling home from a business trip on his birthday and had a majillion flight delays, but I woke the kids in the middle of the night so they could still do their surprise party.
It was seriously the cutest thing ever.
The adventure of #NaughtyPorkchop continue.
I swear that kid never has pants on.
Although I suppose that’s mostly my fault.
But the thighs. And the toes. I can’t cover those up!
We moved into this house five years ago.
Henry was 8 months old.
Every drawer, cupboard, and shelf was set up then as it is now.
My point: The location of my make up drawer was never an issue with Henry. It was never an issue with Lucy. It was never an issue with Jill.
Enter stage right: Owen.
Pencils on the ground. Pencils on the ground.
I refuse to even let him pick them up when he’s dropped them. I just sigh and hand him a new one.
I can tell the success or failure of our homeschooling day based on how many pencils litter our floor by the end of it.
Batty. Drives me batty.
“We’re just gonna cuddle together for a bit.”
And I’m just gonna sprout wings and fly around the room.
Henry’s been “reading” through this book every night.
“But wait…how does the cell get in the tummy in the first place?”
Because you have to understand that this child will NOT be content with some fluffy kid version of the answer. There is no such thing as answering this in an age appropriate way for Henry. His questions would want to get down into the nitty gritty details. DETAILS. OF EVERYTHING. ALL OF IT. AAAAALLLLLLLL of it. All.
Not ready for that. Not yet. Luckily, as I scrambled for an answer, he said “Oh, I know! God puts the cell in the mommy’s tummy! Am I right?”