What we've been doing....

I think it's pretty obvious that "we" have not been blogging.  After a few nudges in the right direction,  I feel sufficiently guilty to actually post.  So here's what we've been doing:

I'm tired of posing for you Mom and I'm going to communicate that with my mouth.

Conquering rocks. 

Trying to get someone to slow down for a picture.

Appreciating Nevada beauty.

Taking crazy clothes day at school to a whole new level.  

Dancing to show off our craziness because we weren't sure you'd get how "crazy" we truly are just by the shorts we are wearing around our neck.  

We slept with all sorts of crazy things including our Wocket without a  pocket we made at preschool.  He was kind of a pillow hog.  

We watched and participated in a whole season of Basketball.  We also got some dirty looks for  our loud mouth shouting things we should probably only be thinking.  It's a problem we have and we are working on it. 

We inherited a great rocking chair and had it re-done.  Now it is happily living in Ella's room. 

We got very, very sick.  We had X-rays for pneumonia but those came back negative.  Diagnosis:  Infrequent intermittent Asthma.  Crappy.  

Tried to particpate in the politcal process by attending a rally with the kids and no husband.  We decided that we do not like crowds and were too worried about violating the fire code to enjoy anything.  Also, was so packed kids could not see or move.  Mom could not even get a picture that wasn't blurry. 

Went hiking in Red Rock canyon. 

Saw an amazing performance from David Gray.

Made crap-your-pants big bubbles.

We took some time to relax and enjoy our allergies  

We organized races at the park.  

We had our first big boy soccer practice.  We weren' t excited about it or anything. 

We sang songs and pretended we were famous at the Lied Discovery Museum.

We responded when duty called.  

We ate green pancakes on St. Patrick's day, pinched each other and Mom ran a 5K and came in 2nd place.  Of course, half the particpants were pushing jog strollers.  

We tried to learn how to vacuum.  

Instead, we learned it was much more fun to steal Mom's phone and take pictures of her bottom with her  underwear showing while she vacuumed.


It's been an interesting couple of months....

Cake Flop

I thought I'd get a head start on Thanksgiving and start baking today.  I've been planning to make this new cake recipe that has my taste buds standing at attention because of it's glorious chocolate, caramel deliciousness.  At the very least, the photographer was a freaking genius. Anyway, I have been hoping to debut this cake at Thanksgiving with the appropriate appreciation and maybe a nod or two to my skillful preparation?!   I carefully prepared this cake recipe from SCRATCH and I even SIFTED the flour.  Seriously, who takes time to sift the flour before putting it in recipes?  It's not like it doesn't get shaken around in the bag when I bring it home from the store and Max pretends it's a toy.  Did I mention that I sifted the flour?  Yes, and because the recipe author likes to make a lot of work for aspiring would-be cake bakers he/she also recommended that you sift your sugar, cocoa and baking powder.  I did exactly as the recipe asked--it could have been the Ten Commandments--I followed it so faithfully.  It took a lot longer than opening a cake mix box,  I can tell you.  I followed all directions except one teeny, tiny, wee, little, small, minute little sentence: "Let cool for 15 minutes and carefully remove from baking pan."  So 15 minutes turned into 3 hours. Has the recipe author ever heard of children?  Apparently not, since he/she has time to sift.    My cake stuck to the pan not unlike when you glue your fingers together with crazy glue.  If this ever happens to you and you look up what to do on Wikipedia just know that their solution is a complete and utter lie. Yes, Wikipedia lies!  Not to mention a waste of your time.  Hmmm.  Kind of like sifting.  You are sunk.  Your cake is ruined.  You might as well cry now instead of prolonging your misery with false hope.  There is NO hope.  Your cake is dead.  It is a crumbly mess.   All you can do now is eat half the pan and console yourself with the fact that at least it tastes good and grumble about all that sifting you did.


(Please excuse my writing, I have to take myself out of the equation there at the end because I can't really admit that I ate half a pan of cake to console myself, now can I?)

What I did today...

1.  I just spent the last 20 minutes deleting 134 videos/photos of myself shopping at Target.  If only they were all this flattering:

2.  Saying goodbye to some fantastic teachers and realizing that I have FOUR children not just the one and they will ALL be HOME ALL SUMMER!

3.  Woke up this morning and ate this:

5. Pinched myself for being such a lucky girl because last night I stayed here:

5.  And met him:

(Besties)

6.  Lied to my husband about posting this picture:

7. And this one:

8. Made excuses.  Like this one:  We spent the night at the Mirage celebrating our 14th wedding anniversary a little early.  Robert had one of those rare work hook-ups and was able to get us fantastic seats to the 5th Anniversary performance of The Beatles' Love.  It was all kinds of awesome.  Paul McCartney and Yoko Ono along with some of their progeny were there.  Robert refused to let me take pictures on my iphone even though I promised to be discrete. :(   But I digress, I do really try and be honest at all times but Robert was refusing to have his picture taken commemerating our 14th wedding anniversary celebration.  Why, you ask would a man married for 14 years refuse to let his wife take a picture of him?  Let me quote him: "Only if you promise not to post it on your blog."  What good is a picture that you can't post on your blog????  Seriously.  So then he asks me if I intended to post the pictures I am snapping of the room.  I replied, "Why, yes, I certainly do!"   He might of accused ME of wanting to brag to my friends!

So, I hope you don't take this as bragging and if you do then I should probably say that most nights I am home dipping my scrub brush in a bucket full of ammonia and scrubbing the pee off the bathroom floor because my boys' couldn't aim if their lives depended on it.  And if that still doesn't make you feel better than this should:

ARGHH.  Look at my hUGE  rear.  You can thank Max and his photography skills for keeping me in check.

The End.  Literally.

A fantastic, calorie-filled Memorial Day weekend.

First, I must confess that I stole these pictures from my friend Angela.  Thanks.  I was much to busy having a fabulous time to bother with pictures.  Okay, I actually got a night out.  Don't faint but Robert watched the kids. The house did not burn down.  The kids did not starve.  The roof was still attached to the house when I returned.  It was very sweet of him; because I can't remember the last time I told all my secrets (okay not ALL) stayed up late and ate treats with abandon.  Sadly, we were saying good-bye to a good friend who is moving to Florida.  We will miss her!

For Memorial Day, we took the kids to The Valley of Fire to roast hot dogs, eat chips and make ginormous s'mores.  We found out that Max has no fear of heights and may cause his mother to have a heart attack.  Ella does fear heights and she had a few moments of "freaking out" but did her best to be brave.  

You'd never know that they were driving each other crazy on the car ride.  

Max thought it was hilarious to pull up his shirt whenever I took a picture.  That boy!

We finished off the day with a swim in the pool and a movie.  I'm ALMOST looking forward to summer...

Poop.

A versatile word in my family.  It can be at one moment a source of extreme hilarity or at the next a heinous insult. "Mommy, (insert name here) called me a poop-head."  It is often tagged on to the end of words and mentioned too frequently at the dinner table.  It is also Max's favorite punch-line to any joke he might tell.  "Garble, garble, gook......(wait for it)....POOP!"  And then he and whomever he is telling (so long as their surname is Reynolds) are rolling on the ground giggling like they ate cocoa-puffs with skittles on top and shot of Root-beer for breakfast.   Max loves the scandalous nature of the word as observed by his ear-to-ear grin after over-hearing my conversation with a tender-eared three-year-old playmate:

Girl: Sister Reynolds!  Sister Reynolds!  Max says BAD WORDS!!!
Me: Really?  What did he say?
Girl: (hushed tone) Poop.
Max:  POOP!

I. CANNOT. TAKE. IT. ANYMORE.  Last night, I informed my brood that if anyone so much as used the word poop outside the bathroom and in the wrong context they would be paying me a dollar for each violation.  So far, I've made three dollars off of Max and he has cried about me taking his "moneys out his piggy bank".  I know I'm mean, but the potty talk has to stop sometime or they will turn out like their Dad.

Case-in-point:

Earlier in the day:

R:  Tell Max his Dad said poop in a can.
Me: I will not tell him that!
R:  Why not?!!!

(A few hours pass)


Me: Btw- anyone who says poop in our family has to pay me a dollar.  New rule.  I'm planning on making a lot of money off you.
R: Poop in a can.
Me: $1 in my wallet.  I might start charging you more.
R:  Hahaha
Me: You laugh now!  Wait until you are broke! Then I'll be laughing.  And don't even think about asking me for a loan...
R: Shoot, this will be tough.

Soon, I'll have a new pair of shoes....and hopefully they'll be cured of a bad habit.

I hate blogger.

Blogger, you stink.  Play my videos.  Sheesh!  It took me FOREVER to upload them.  You are on my naughty list.  BAD. BAD.  BAD.  Badly done, blogger.  Shame on you!  ARGH!

Easter

The stilts were obviously a male Easter Bunny's idea.

Ella could walk on them right away. The girl has got some skills.

I shoot bunnies.

I eat bunnies.

Had a moral debate with myself about posting a pic of Jackson in his briefs. Then I realized that if I were to have an embarrassing picture to blackmail him with, it might add some leverage to my parenting strategy. I have no shame.

Easter Egg hunting: note that it is almost impossible for any of the kids to look at the camera. Also, note that it is impossibly cruel of Mom to take a picture when there are candy-filled egg goodies to be found.