The eggs were cleaned, blow dried (What? Doesn’t everyone blow dry their eggs?) and being placed in the carton as we hurried to finish up before leaving for church. One pretty blue egg was left over so I delicately placed it into a carton for us to keep. I somehow managed to fumble the poor, pretty egg and it broke on the floor.
“Oh! It broke!” Said Miss Sunshine.
Pixie runs into the kitchen to see what happened. “Did you break it? Why did you do that?”
“Yea, why did you do that?” Her ever helpful Father teased. He had seen the whole thing.
“You did it on purpose?” asked Miss Sunshine.
“Why did you break it on purpose?” asked Pixie
Yes, I threw it on the floor in order to see our last, only remaining egg smashed. (The Hens really need to be getting busy out there! They been slacking.) My heart’s desire was that The Dog get it so I devised this deviant scheme and carried it out.
In the process of explaining that no, I had not broken it on purpose; The Boy enters the scene and proclaims, “You broke it on purpose?!”
Yes, there it is folks, the process of how rumors get started. I am now a purposeful Blue Egg Smasher. Beware.
The Children helped me decorate the tree. We have a system down now where I unwrap the ornaments and they hang them on the tree. Then, in an exercise of fortitude, I leave them where they were placed by little, loving hands.
Here is the area where the silver balls ended up.
Over here, not too far to the right, is where the silver bells pile onto one branch. Don’t want them to be alone. (The second bell is hard to see.)
Then all the gold ornaments apparently needed to be grouped together, away from the silver items (you know how they are.)
Last, but not least, the red balls had there own place of honor on the tree.
Overall, the tree looks lovely. It was decorated with love and excitement- so fun to see.
Merry Christmas!
We had friends over on Saturday to help celebrate The Boy. He had wanted mint chocolate chip ice cream cake so being Julia Child in disguise I whipped one right up. Snort. Internet recipes- what a blessing!
I took the cake out a few minutes before we needed it so that is would soften up and be ready to cut. But then this happened-
I don’t know if the freezer door hadn’t been closed all the way the last time I was in it or if I lost track of time time and had it out too long. I also think the ice cream was a brand that was particularly soft. But whatever the reason, it was melting and melting fast. So I snapped a few photos and we cut it up. It wasn’t until we had some on Monday, the true birthday, that we put candles on it. It looked a bit worse for wear.
But The Boy didn’t seem to mind.
It sure tasted good though.
Ages ago, when The Boy began to lose his teeth fast and furious, just like they came in, there was a problem. The old ones would not fall out before then new ones came in. The new ones would come in behind the old tooth. Here is an example:
Then he stopped loosing teeth. And we waited for Pixie to start the process.
And we waited.
That picture was taken in March 2007, before The Boy was 7, and was some of the last teeth to come out. Pixie was over 6 and no teeth were wiggling.
She went in to have her teeth cleaned and the hygienist noticed tooth ridges coming up behind a tooth. We encouraged her to wiggle the tooth in front but often it was forgotten. The tooth behind was coming in fast.
Her Father was getting ready to work on it some one evening not too long after this photo was taken when she came running out to tell us that her tooth had come out! She was very excited and we were all glad.
It must be a genetic thing. From The Col. Panic’s side of the family. We’ll see how the rest fall out.
Note: This is a guest post by The Boy.
I built my dam off of the creek hoping to reduce the risk of flooding by taking water off the creek. I was trying to make a ditch to take the water from the creek since I had to get water into the dam I had to shovel water from the creek with the shovel. Which is no fun especially when you have dirt separating the mini reservoir from the creek.
I wasn’t very successful because the creek dried up right after I built it.
The board helped a little to keep the dirt from washing away.
I thought this looked like it was under water.
Self portrait of the author.
There are times when raising children that one feels that the child will grow up to be the most selfish, inconsiderate, obnoxious person out there. It’s a challenge to tear the child away from selfish desires and teach them to think of others. It’s not a natural thing. I am dismayed to see my child go over to another and whack him for no apparent reason- or, I should say, no apparent reason that I can see. Then one refuses to let another have a toy even though she isn’t playing with it at that time. These things can trouble a mother’s heart.
When we were visiting The Grandparent’s this summer the kids partook of many treats. The freezer at Grandma’s is full of really good stuff- ice cream treats and Popsicles. She also bakes very well. After lunch the kids got to have Popsicles. I dolled them out, trying to avoid the arguments about what color every one wanted, and gave The Boy broken ones two days in a row. On the third day, I pulled out one that was broken but knowing that he had endured two flawed ones already, I handed it to his Baby Sister and gave him the whole one. Baby Sister stared at the broken pop in her hand and started the high pitched whine.
“I don’t want it! It’s broken!”
It’ll still taste the same.
“But it’s broken!” wailing in a higher pitch.
Your Brother has had two broken ones, he gets a whole one this time. You can still eat it.
Squirms in her seat and starts to cry. I am contemplating what action to take when I look at The Boy.
“She can have mine.”
Baby Sis calms down and makes the trade. After prodding she says “thank you”.
He smiles.
One definitely needs more work but the other shines a glimmer of hope into his Mother’s heart.
A strap on The Boy’s sandal broke awhile back but it still stayed on his foot.
Last Friday, right after we arrived at the park to play, the other part broke. It no longer stayed on his foot. He stayed on the play structure or the grass most of the time to protect his bare feet.
We headed straight to that “Evil Out House” place that is basically the only place to shop here. I knew that trying to find sandals at this time of year was a nearly impossible task. The shoe people and the stores seem to think we need to buy sandals in February and snow boots in August. I have found, from past experience, that if you don’t shop for sandals before the end of April, the selection will be pitiful. Then hope that the child’s foot doesn’t go on a growing spree or they don’t break. So there we were, in need, scurrying (The Boy was shuffling; trying to keep the sandal attached to his foot) to the shoe aisle with very low hopes. The sandals, the few that were still languishing there, were relegated to a small, far section of the shoe area. There were a few scattered sandals for toddlers on the shelf.
And one pair of size four.
On sale.
I think it was a God thing.
****Updated with correct numbers****
How high can we go? It’s anyone’s guess.
Just what are we counting, tallying on a daily basis?
Mosquito bites on The Boy.
I should clarify that- “we” aren’t keeping count by choice but there is one of us who is very interested in the numbers and keeps us minutely informed.
Do you see eyes rolling?
To be honest, The Boy is effected by bites more than the average Joe. The bites tend to swell up on him and annoy him more than most. It leaves one to wonder about the constant…. complaining. Is it really bothering him or is he not dealing well with minor discomfort? Since he reacts so to them it’s hard to know. So we medicate him- mostly to relieve our own suffering.
I think we are up to 22, just in case you were wondering.
(Don’t worry, West Nile has not been reported in our county…. yet. Whoops! I was informed I was wrong- a bird was found to have it in 2006 but none has been reported since then.)
