Leavin' On A Jet Plane

I'm leavin' on a jet plane tonight. By myself. For 3 nights. Headed to my favorite state. To see this:
I feel like I've won the lottery.

For my birthday, I requested a plane ticket to meet Edie. And tonight is the big night. I can't wait to bury face in those cheeks!

But I am a little sad to leave these goofballs behind.

Jack dressed as Bob the Builder Pirate in slippers

Liam the poser

Garrett the goober

What a trio!
And Winston the tongue wagger

My favorite four

But I'm going to enjoy myself in spite of what I'm missing at home.

Besides, there's ten piggies that need kisses, too.

Brought to You By the Color Green

There's this time of day that I've grown to hate.


A few months ago, I was in this same boat and revamped our lunch menu to help us step beyond PB&J. We began to eat things like bean and cheese quesadillas, homemade pizzas, grilled ham and cheese sandwiches. Nothing gourmet, granted. Just a little branching out.

But even that has grown old. If it weren't for the throwing of fits due to low blood sugar, I would just skip lunch altogether.

And I may or may not be speaking of my own low blood sugar. Unfortunately, my family knows the truth. Ahem.

Liam has also gotten bored with lunch. He won't even eat a sandwich of any kind anymore.

At 12:00 this afternoon, I knew we were headed for disaster if I didn't whip up something quickly. I asked Liam, "What do you want for lunch? I have some chicken left from last night, so I can make chicken quesadillas. Or I can make chicken salad sandwiches."


Large almond-shaped eyes rolled up to me as if to say, "Are you kidding me?"

I have no idea where he learned that eye-rolling business.

"Well, what would you like, Liam?"

"How about chicken and spinach salad?"

"You mean you're asking for a bed of spinach salad covered with rotisserie chicken, blue cheese, craisins, walnuts, and poppy seed dressing," I asked in sheer shock.

"Yes, I like that," my little man replied.

I ran to the kitchen to fill the man's order before he had second thoughts. And I made 4 plates, because I'm no short order cook.

Here's proof:
Please excuse the green hue to these photos. We have a new camera, and I need to sit down to read the manual. But who has time for that?

Yes, that's a gourmet salad served on a Wal Mart special paper plate. We're classy like that.

Those almond eyes? Here they are:
I think lunch might be more enjoyable now that we're branching out. PB&J? Who needs it? We've got spinach and chicken salad.

It's an Easter Story

How was your long weekend? If you didn't have a long weekend, how was your weekend? I am so glad that Rick's company allows him Good Friday.

Typically, three-day weekends will find us on the road, but there isn't something right about leaving town on Easter weekend with the love we have for our home church. Instead, we took the long weekend to stay home and relax. We've been going and coming so much lately that I might oughtta check my battery to make sure it's the Energizer brand.

When we got up Friday morning, it was a bit chillier than we had expected, so we had to hang out inside for a bit. Garrett asked Daddy to play some music with him.
They played the Beatles, of course, along with some Beach Boys.

And before long, the other two boys grabbed some spoons and added some glorious-sounding drums.
After two minutes, Jack lost interest and the other two began dancing in the window seat. That would be the window seat in our kitchen eating area. The same window seat that my mom is trying to talk me into adding curtains and a cushion. I know I need curtains, but Mom, see why we can't add a cushion:
That might hinder the boys' stage act. And it is an act up there.

When Garrett finished his Paul McCartney rendition, he bowed and said, "Thank you" just like the Beatles say at the end of "Obladi Oblada".
Let's not leave my fourth child out of this:
Between pictures, I had to wrestle that Kong out of his mouth. His love language is quality time.

Once it warmed up outside, I sent the boys to the backyard to play ball. I was able to clean my house in its entirety while those stinky boys ran around outside.

Rick knows to keep everyone out of my way when I'm in cleaning mode. "Boys, look out! She's got that look in her eye. Get back!"

Here's a pretty typical glimpse into my backyard these days:
We're going to have our own league some day.

Later in the day, I had this hair-brained idea. Because I knew Easter Sunday was going to be rainy, I thought it would be a great idea to get the family dressed in their Easter clothes and take pictures before the humidity hit my hair and my mood. Rick was reluctant, but he agreed, knowing that our Sundays are just too crazy to add a photo session into the mix. Plus, he won't miss an opportunity to play with our new camera.

He probably had second thoughts, when he heard me disciplining some unnamed, unclothed children for "messin' around for the thirteenth time in the last 5 minutes!" Ahem.

I tried to keep my cool, but I can only take so much burpin', fartin', and general cuttin' up when it's time to "git busy and git dressed", dadgumit! (I don't say dadgumit in front of my boys, by the way. But I love to think it.)

After I got my little men dressed, I set off to dress myself while Rick got the tripod set up. There was a little more messin' around, but it didn't involve grotesque bodily functions, so I let them good enough alone.
They did eventually settle down for some good shots.
Aren't they cute?! It's a mighty fine event for them to wear ties, but let me tell you what's more impressive than ironed shirts, slacks, and ties...shirts being tucked in! We don't take time for shirt tucking around these parts.

, those boys hardly have time for snapping and zipping pants, so tucking in shirts is like pulling teeth! But they do clean up real nice, yes'm.

(Could anyone tell me why Jack's tie is so much shorter than anyone else's?! Of course, I didn't notice that in the store when I tried it on him not once but twice!)

The Daddy cleans up real nice, too. Shooey!
The Mommy and the men:
The family:
I suppose I should take the time to crop the fireplace's gas keyhole thing out of that picture. Nah. Just pretend it's not there.

I'd say that's a pretty good photo shoot, especially considering we came from, how shall I say this delicately?, a gaseous dressing area.

The rest of the weekend was spent with some extended family. Rick took some pictures of our nephews that I might share later, but right now, I need to get moving around here. I've got a snoring child on one shoulder and a begging dog on the other.

What should I do first? Wake the snorer or play with the beggar?

By the way, I had hoped to make this post a little more spiritual, being that we just celebrated Jesus' resurrection and all. But how do I fit that in with flatulents? A better blogger could pull that off, but me...? Not so much. So, happy belated Easter, y'all. Because, you know what? Jesus lives!

P.S. While I was spellchecking this post, the snorer just burped. In his sleep. On my shoulder. Not once. Not twice. But THREE times! I kid you not. I'm definitely waking him up NOW! Only the Lord knows what else he could do while napping on my shoulder!

Friday Funny: Jesus and An Umbrella

During a recent family Bible lesson, we discussed the fact that Jesus will return to earth one day. Liam asked, "How will he come here? Will he need an umbrella?"

Bedtime Silliness

Jack and Garrett have always shared a room. It just makes sense, being that they are only 26 days apart. There are times that I would like them to have their own rooms. Those times are few and far between, but they're usually when the littles are still chattering away after being in bed an hour.

There are also times when I am glad they share a bedroom and even wish Liam could join them. That typically occurs when I hear them giggling their little selves to sleep.

One night last week, they were laughing, and I just wanted to hear them up close. You know, it was one of those times that I wanted to be a fly on the wall in order to witness their silliness without their knowing I was there.

I made my way upstairs and stood outside their door. I was only there 0.5 seconds when I heard what was so funny. Garrett said, "Hey, Jack, I pooted!" And they both laughed hysterically.

I suppose bodily functions are that much funnier at bedtime. And I'm glad I wasn't a fly on the wall after all. A fly's breathing could not survive that passing.

Paul McCartney's Look Alike

I came upstairs to assist in brushing teeth this morning to find this:
That would be Garrett oohing and ahhing over his hair.

For several months, he has said that he wants his hair to "look like the Beatles." And I've tried explaining to him that his hair is curly and the Beatles' are not. Try as I might, there is no convincing him.

After Christmas, I told him that he could start growing his hair out on one condition: that he would allow me to comb and moisturize his locks every day. He has been very compliant about it and will even remind me to help him with it if I forget.

As I combed it out this morning, he giggled and continued to ooh and ahh. I giggled at him and asked, "Why is this so funny today?" He said, "Because my hair! It looks like the Beatles!"

I just about peed my pants. After I could take in enough air to speak again, I asked, "Which Beatle do you look like?" With all sincerity he said, "Paul McCartney."
"You are so right, G. Paul McCartney you are."

Guess what he had to say about that:
(Notice he's wearing his Beatles shirt. I have to keep that shirt clean, because if his Aggie jerseys are dirty, then his Beatles' shirt is next best. What will I do when he outgrows that t-shirt? I bought it at Target for Liam two years ago and have never seen another one. If you've seen any Beatles' T's for kids, please tell me where in my comments!)