Marathon Blog--Part 3--Happy Birthday, J.

Go ahead, laugh.  The cake was suppose to be a Dinosaur.  Jackson liked it.  I wanted to thank Clint and Cindy for the handcuffs.  Just wait until your kids have a birthday!  And thanks to Dan for bringing twenty of his closest friends--it made Jackson's birthday very memorable.  :)

Marathon Blog--Part 2--Happy Birthday, Katie!

All I can say is that it is very hard to focus a camera with a 20 month tugging on you.  The theme was "fish" in honor of Kate's aquarium.

Marathon Blog--part 1--Soccer anyone?

What the?!?!?!?

Holy Crap!  It's May!!!

A picture I've been saving for a whole post.  Not going to happen.  This is Max photo boothing himself.  Notice I am swooping in to save my computer from the abuse it has surely been receiving.  Love you, Puter.

A May a long time ago. Before wrinkles.  Before I knew what my babies had eaten by the smell of their poop.  Yeah, those WERE the days.  

Oh, and pictures from our events are coming soon.  I just have to charge the batteries to my dead camera, then upload the pics, think of clever, entertaining things to say and then write about a thousand posts and wah-la you will be caught up on our April.  Maybe by June?

Jackson-isms & Ella-isms

Sprite aka spicy water to Jackson.

Jackson: (Out of the blue, off topic)  Hey, Mom! Mom! Mom!

Me: (exasperated) What Jackson?

Jackson:  Did you know you are getting old?

Me: (Sigh) Yes, Jackson, I know.  

Ella: (Talking about a friend she met at soccer practice) Mom, were you sitting by her adult?

Poo

I don't think I've been this embarrassed in quite a while.   Max got a hold of my phone and texted my neighbor.  It wouldn't have been so bad, but the conversation went like this:

Neighbor:  Thanks so much for being willing to help out.

Me:  No problem. Poo

I explained (hours later...when I noticed!)  but you know she's thinking how does a 18 month old type "poo" on a phone. Sometimes you really have to hate predictive texting.  And to answer the next question, I don't often type "poo" in my phone.  Really.  Well, maybe a few times.  But not to my NEIGHBORS.  I PROMISE!!  

So much to post and so little time before the ham is done.

While in Utah, I had a chance to get together with my college roomies.  They aren't as wild and crazy as they used to be...there wasn't any dancing on beds to Soft Cell but then again, we all have four kids now.  Maybe we have learned dignity or maybe it was just a public place.  Oh, and thanks Jodi for reminding me to take off my glasses for the picture.  I will be eternally grateful.  I look hideous in my glasses.   Case in point, scroll down to the Easter pic.  

Yes, Kate is beautiful.  I am not biased at all. 

J is actually happier than he looks.  He's in to pulling weird faces for pictures now.  I hope it is a phase.  

Hi, I'm Max.  I don't wear shirts because I get them soaking wet.  My mom says three shirts a day is my limit.   I also have no interest in Easter, eggs or candy.  I prefer to pull a chair over to the counter while my mother is not looking and steal her cell phone.  I like to text "pfdjskl" 23 times to all her friends.  I also like to call her friends.  She wishes I would get some of my own friends, but it is hard to make friends when you don't like to share.  

Sadly, this was the best shot.   I get to wear my glasses for the next 10 days because my eyes decided they don't like silicone contact lenses and I have--to quote the doctor, "road rash" on my eyes.  Besides hurting my pride to appear in these horrible spectacles, it hurts like----.

While in Utah, we visited the Children's museum. 

It was a tough news day.

He may look cute but don't, I repeat, DON'T try and separate him from his cop car.  He will fight back.  

We also visited the Zoo.  It was a zoo.  

We visited the G.G.'s.  Sorry, Kendra you got sacrificed in the search for a half-way decent picture.

Hayes cousins' plus one mom.  

And my favorite reason to watch baseball.  Actually, my only reason. 

The ham is done and I forgot to cook the asparagus.   I also forgot how to spell it.  That's what happens when you stay up late at night and eat your kids easter candy.  One for the egg, one for me.  You get the idea.  Look forward to angry diet-induced posts.