Every night, when I put the kids to bed, I always tell them to have good dreams. And then whenever I get them up, I ask them if they had good dreams, and what they were.* This morning I sat on Ethan’s bed and rubbed his back as he was waking up, and told him good morning. Usually this takes a few minutes for him to “wake up,” but this morning, nearly as soon as his eyes were open, he sat up and climbed into my lap for a great big morning hug. I asked him if he had good dreams, and he nodded, and then I asked him what he dreamed of. I think that sometimes he doesn’t remember or doesn’t dream, and has a standard answer of “trains!” or “dump trucks!” but sometimes I can really tell that he is remembering his dream and he tells me about it. It’s never as detailed as I would like, as I think the dreams of little kids are just fascinating.

This morning, he grinned up at me and said, “I dreamed about YOU!”

“REALLY! What did I do in your dream?”
“We went up in an AIRPLANE!”
“That sounds like it was a LOT of fun!”
“It was! It was great!”
“Let’s be sure to meet in your dreams again.”

It was pretty sweet.

*This makes it sound like I do all the putting to bed and waking up in the house. This is not the case. I just mean, whomever i’m putting to bed, and whenever i get someone up, this is what I say/ask.

This morning we were driving away from our house, and up ahead there was a school bus stopped, and the kids were all climbing on board. The car in front of us stopped, and a little girl and her mommy got out. Her mommy put some aquaphor on her lips, and then the girl hustled down to the bus, which was waiting for her, and she climbed on board.

My kids watched this in fascination. I excitedly pointed out the school bus to them, and then they were full of observations.

“LOOK at the BIG kids!”
“I’m going to be a big kid too, and get on a school bus!”
“I’m not a big kid. I’m an OLD KID.” (jocelyn)
“LOOOOOK! LOOOOOOK! SHE HAS AQUAPHOR TOOOOO!”
“Are they kindergarteners, mommy?”
“Yes, there are some kindergarteners there.”
“I’m going to be a kindergartener too, and ride the bus!”
“Yes, next year you’ll be a kindergartener, but I think you’ll still be at OurSchool, so we’ll drive you. But when you’re a first grader, THEN you’ll ride the bus.”

He didn’t answer to this, but was mulling it over.

Kindergarten decisions await us. Their preschool has a private full day kindergarten, and with 8 kids to 1 teacher vs. 25 kids to 1 teacher, I think you’ll agree that that isn’t a hard decision to make (keeping him at his current school vs. putting him in the overcrowded public school). Even if they fix the overcrowding (which I’ve heard they will) it is still not a ratio anywhere near as good as what OurSchool has. So even though the lure of saving money is strong, we’ll probably be doing the private school thing for him for kindergarten.

But the THOUGHT of putting him in the public school and how does that work? and what about before/after school care? and who runs it? when? how much? will he like it? is just poking at me all the time, and while I am happy with our situation right now, with both of us working, and both kids at the same school, in a few years, it will all change and it scares me a bit. It will definitely be tough to have Jocelyn at the private school, and ethan in the public school, just in terms of picking up / dropping off, but I wouldn’t want to gyp her out of a good start in her education by not putting her in the private kindergarten that her brother will have gone to, and I heard some talk at my Bunco night about the extended day care and how some of the mums weren’t too happy with it..

But what it really boils down to.. I would like to be home when my kids come home from school. It is how I grew up, and I just don’t like to picture anything other than that for my kids. It’s kind of weird. I mean, weird that I am totally fine with how things are now, but I don’t like going on this way in the future. You’d think that if I’m fine with it now, I should be fine with it then, but I’m not, I’m very squidgy about it then.

I don’t know what will happen, but I guess we’ve got a few years to figure it out yet. I know what I DON’T want, and that is sending my kids off to college and then feeling like my life is over and there’s nothing left to live for. I know that this doesn’t happen to all SAHMs, but I do know some that it HAS happened to, and heaven knows it can probably happen to working moms too.. I have made some big steps to try to keep my OWN life going along with my family life, and so I think the foundation is there.

Anyway. A lot of rambling. Again. We’ve got a few years to figure it out.

-amy gave you a two for one tuesday

On Saturday, Ethan and I went to Target for a prescription, and groceries.

And when my eyes lit on this, it was very easy for Ethan to convince me to get it.

“Let’s get it, momm–”
“OK!!”

It was $15, and has 4 games in it. Ms. Pacman, Galaga, Pole Position, and 2 others that I can’t remember.

The little joystick box has a cord going out of it that plugs right into your tv for video and audio. We have some of those on the front of our tv, so it’s very easy to just plug it in, change the video to video 2, and start playing. It also takes 4 AA batteries.

A friend of ours built a whole console that looks exactly like the video games I used to play at Pizza Hut when I was 8. The kind where the game is set in a glass top table, and there’s controls on either side, so 2 players can face each other. He built it and put a computer inside and the last time we were there and I played, I was amazed when James came up, said it was time to go, and I’d spent 2 hours playing Ms. Pacman.

This game is not NEARLY as good as his. I’ve died numerous times on this little $15 version because the controller wasn’t really doing what I said (I know, I know, it’s always easy to blame the controller, but this time, it’s TRUE.)

But it’s still damned fun.

When it’s my turn, and I’m playing Ms. Pacman, Ethan and Jocelyn sit and watch and root for the ghosts. I only know the name of the red one, Blinky, which is also the fastest and most wiley of the ghosts. James informed me that the pink one is Sue. I should look up the other ones. Ethan likes to gloat and say, “I GOTCHA!” when I die, and then says, “That was me. I’M BLINKY! I GOT YOU!!”

Guess who played for an hour after the kids were in bed.

-amy could only get to the pretzel screen.

James took the kids out one December weekend, and took these cute running-around-crazy-in-a-field pictures.

I couldn’t come up with any witty captions.

And once again, I didn’t get new photos off the camera last night. And since I dug up cute baby Ethan pictures, I can’t leave Jocelyn out of it, can I?

Here she is, just over 1 year old.

Oh my goodness. Shoes! That I can put on! I don’t think this will ever not be fun!

Your shoes are so much more fun than mine, Mom.

I think I’ll sit still for a second, so they have at least one photo of me that isn’t blurry. But I won’t look at you. I REFUSE.

And I’m off! There’s some fuzz over there that I definitely need to eat!

Aren’t my little robeez shoes cute? If I wiggle them just so, I can make folks go, “awwwwww!”

I kind of like the power.

This is my daddy. He’ll pretty much do whatever I want him to. Especially when I grin at him.

See? POWER! I WILL RUUUUUULE THE WORLD!!! Or at least, my daddy.

Since I haven’t gotten any pictures OFF the camera and UP to flickr, here are some older photos.

Ethan at age 1, at grandma and grandpa’s house in Park City, UT.

Mom, Dad, I think I’d like to look into careers which involve long hoses and plugging things in and out. Also. Socks? Who needs em? That’s next on my list. First things first though.

I mean seriously. Who thought of this? PURE GENIUS.

I just can’t get enough of this Grandpa person. He has so many things in his shirt pocket. Plus, he doesn’t get tired of my endless curiosity.

You don’t know it yet, but this? This love of all things gadgety? It just grows as I get older.

I could play with this hose ALL DAY LONG. In fact, I did. Oooh, hey, what is THAT THING?

OH MY GOD! I can PULL IT.. I think I am in heaven.

Look. Exposed brick. If I time falling down JUST RIGHT.. I could give my mother an anneurism. One sock down, one to go.

Gotta go. I got things to pull, both of the xylophone, and sock variety.

DAY OFF

Monday James and I both had the day off of work, but the kids’ school was still open. We took them to school, and had ourselves a lovely day off, just the two of us. So we are bad parents. At least, I am. I asked james if he felt guilty, and he replied, “Hell no!” I however, felt a bit guilty. James pointed out that they have fun at school, but still, they’d have had fun at home too. I know they would have much rather been home than at school.

So what did we do?

Plan A: Spend the day working on getting the laminate floor in the basement laid, as it’s been lingering for some time now (mmm.. 4 months, I think)

Plan B: Go see a movie, go out to lunch, laze about feeding each other grapes and doing things which we can never do with 2 little hooligans running amok in the house.

Can you guess which one we did?

It was actually Plan C. We went out to lunch, but didn’t make it to a movie, all the times were a bit off, and there was nothing we really were dying to see. The morning I spent sewing, and James spent watching TV and working on his computer. Then I decided to pamper myself and went and got a pedicure. I also got all unwanted hair on my face ripped off while it was stuck to some wax and paper. Ouch. I should have done that FIRST, and THEN did the pedicure. In the massage chair. It was heaven.

Then we went to lunch at the Rio Grande, and stopped in at Penn Camera to see if they had any camera bags or used flashes and generally oogled at everything. Stopped at Best Buy. More oogling.

Then we came home and lazed about some more. I got a lot of the laundry done, which made me happy. I was glad to see the kids, but by then, I was also starting to feel sick in earnest. Bummer. I was considering not going to work yesterday, but as I didn’t feel any worse, decided I really wasn’t sick enough to skip work. Today though, I am working from home. I see no need to subject everyone at the office to my germs and hacking dibilitating cough.

COOL NEW CLOCKS

My folks gave me a fancy atomic alarm clock for Christmas. It is fancy, because not only does it update the time automatically (this is the atomic part), it projects the time and temperature up onto the ceiling. So even I, nearsighted though I am, can just look up and read it in the middle of the night on the ceiling above our bed. (It was 62 degrees last night at MIDNIGHT. WINTER, WHERE ART THOU??)

I haven’t had the projector part working until Monday night, as I had to pull our bed back and plug in a power strip to get more outlets.

But now, it’s working, and I must say, it’s pretty cool. My fear was that w/out my contacts/glasses, I would just look up and see a red fuzzy blur on the ceiling, but it was big enough that I can make it out. Very cool. It projects all the time, but the room has to be very dark to see it.

Now I have to figure out how to turn off the alarm, because after hitting snooze every 5 minutes this morning, for a half hour, James was about ready to divorce me.

SWAPPITY SWAP SWAP

I have been SWAPPED for the mini swap done by Mommy Coddle, and have exchanged emails with my swap partner, another Amy, also with 2 kids, Chloe, 5, and Hannah 18 months. Amy sent me a picture of her girls, who are TOO darling for words.

I told Ethan and Jocelyn all about the swap, which is a lot harder than one might think. “No, we don’t know them. I signed us up for a swap. On the internet. On the computer.” *blank stares* Jocelyn is still kind of confused. When we said we were going to dinner, she exclaimed, “And we’ll meet Chloe and Hannah there!!!” I keep having to tell her that “no, we’re not going to meet Chloe and Hannah. They’re going to send US a package, and we’re going to send THEM a package.”

James got a box out for our swapping needs, and Ethan has already drawn 2 pictures and put them in the box that we’ll be sending. I’m just so pleased with how excited both of them are, and they’ve been so imaginative on what we could send in the package “to our SWAP GIRLS!” We also went to target and bought a globe so that we could look where “our swap girls” are located. It will also come in handy for the postcard swap we signed up for that Zhinka Dinka Doo is organizing.

Swapping is such fun, if a little tricky to explain. Strangers hooking up on the internet is a tricky concept for the 2- and 4-year-old set 🙂

And once again, I’m stopping before I get TOO longwinded. (I hear the Clue-ish calls of, “TOO LATE!” from the audience. Shoosh, audience.)

But tomorrow, I’m going to tell you all about COOKIES.

-like a good neighbor, amy is there (here)

WEEKEND SICKITY SICK SICK

I’m really being a big baby, because it COULD be so much worse. My nose is stuffy, but I can still breathe, and my throat is kind of coated with gunk, but it COULD be sore and raw and make eating impossible.

Really, I’m not that sick.

But I’m siiiiiiiick, waaaaaaah, I don’t wanna be siiiiiiick pout whine whimper moan.

WEEKEND IKEA

we decided to head to ikea Saturday afternoon, along with the rest of the world. On the way there, I had an epiphany. Jocelyn is old enough to go into the big kids child care area. YOu know, the one where you sign them in, they slap a sticker with their name on their back, then they hand you a buzzer and buzz you when it’s time to go get them. She’s now tall enough, the first criteria, and she’s potty trained, the second criteria.

However, her parents are still too dumb. Because in the bustle of taking shoes off, and filling out the forms, and getting them inside, all we said to her was, “You’re big enough for the big kids room!” with no other information whatsoever. Like that we’d be going, and we’d be BACK, and she can go play, etc etc etc. As I saw her walk in, all this occured to me and I paused to watch her for a minute, and she seemed fine. I SHOULD have just called her over to me, and told her exactly what was going to happen, “Me and daddy are going to go bye bye, and you and Ethan get to play here without us for a little while, and then we’ll be back to pick you up.” But I didn’t. She seemed fine, so we left, and then not 5 minutes later, the buzzer was buzzing, and I RAN back and she was sitting on the bottom step crying. Poor girl. You poor thing, you have the dumbest mommy alive, and now it’ll be very hard to try to do this the next time too. Ahh well.

We looked at stands to put a mythical new TV that may or may not be purchased this year (i can hear james in my head: “MAY? MAY NOT?!? IT WILL BE PURCHASED, WOMAN! IT! WILL!”), bought some plastic kid bowls (ours have all mysteriously disappeared), gathered up Ethan, and piled into the car to go home.

Nothing like using several gallons of gas to go buy $2.98 worth of plastic.

WEEKEND KID SICK

When we got home (after a pit stop at Target for milk and a globe) it became evident that Ethan had a fever. All curled up on the couch was he, woebegone and hot to the touch. The thermometer read 102.5, and he wanted his bed (with NO STORY, shocking I tell you, SHOCKING!) even though it was 6:50pm. He went right to sleep, and the fever came down (with the aid of tylenol) and stayed down the rest of the night. I kept checking him all day Sunday, but he was fine as a fiddle. Kooky. Maybe it was all the running around with the germ infested kids and toys at the Ikea Smaland and then a stuffy 40 minute ride home that did it, but we’re thankful it was temporary.

Fever or not, both kids are all snottified. If there were Snot Olympics, we’d have some gold medal champions right here. Jocelyn went to the doctor last week just to check up that her double ear infection she had before christmas had cleared up, and our pediatrician listened to me complain about Ethan’s ongoing snotty cold and checked his ears and throat for me (I love love love our doctor, she’s a saint). She said if he doesn’t improve in the next week or two to bring him in. We’re not even to the first week, and I am fighting the urge to bring him in. It looks very sinus infection-y to me, the poor kid can never breathe through his nose, even after he blows it.

Jocelyn is also all snotty, and even though James gave me a scoffing look, I’m blaming the mashed potatoes at school. She can’t have milk protein, and she was doing GREAT right after our holidays, and then got all snotty a day or so after mashed potatoes was on the school lunch menu. Call me suspicious, but I think those mashed potatoes are not cooked enough to break down that milk protein that causes her immune system to call in the snot troops and do BATTLE.

Some call me milk paranoid. But you know, when everyone is out to get you, paranoia is just good thinking!

THE END

I sometimes end blog posts with a plain old, ‘the end!’ because i’m done spewing out words, and yet the post doesn’t have any definitive end point in the narrative (narrative? you call this narrative? pshaw!) I’ve also found that I do this in real life. I’m telling a story to james, and let out a nice clear, “THE END!” I leave a message on my sister’s answering machine, “Just calling to say hi. Hi. THE END! *click*” I’ve grown very fond of ‘the end’. it says all the things that you can’t be bothered to find the words to wrap things up nicely.

and on that note,

the end.

-amy has more to say but she has to stop somewhere doesn’t she?

Yesterday I picked up the kids from school and then headed to Costco to pick up this thing.

The kids did wonderfully, but I am always a little harried by the end of this sort of expedition. It wasn’t even a typical Costco trip with a full cart, I just got the hard drive, some photo albums and frames and some kid clothes (I can never resist the clothes). I’m also still wearing work clothes which just makes me feel weird. There’s nothing like wearing dressy clothes and high heels and wrangling kids in a store to make you feel bossy, domineering and like everyone is staring at you.

I had promised them “ice cream” which I usually let them have at Costco, because it’s actually frozen yogurt, which Jocelyn can have without turning her into a full time snot machine. I always feel bad about the lack of ice cream in Jocelyn’s life, so when frozen yogurt presents itself, I usually get them some.

However, I was going to make them eat something nutritious first (like hot dogs are SO nutritious) and THEN let them have ice cream.

But I forgot to get cash back at the register, and when standing in the food line, I realized that I only had 1 dollar bill in my wallet, and some change. So goodbye mother of the year, I was going to ruin my kids’ dinner by feeding them only ice cream.

So, I am giving the lady at the food counter my very specific instructions on the ice cream, which is ONLY THIS MUCH (holds up my fingers no more than 1 inch apart). My kids are LITTLE. Those cups are HUGE. They do NOT need 1 and a half CUPS of ice cream! A quarter cup will do nicely, thank you! So she looks at me and tries to comprehend what I want, and then says something that I didn’t quite hear becuase I’m trying to get Ethan to stop fiddling with those line-former-stand thingees and assure Jocelyn that yes, the ice cream is coming soon, and please don’t throw my new faux-500 gig hard drive out of the cart.

So I turn back and it turns out that she said, “I’ll charge you for one and give you an extra cup.”

She gave me a FULL cup and an empty extra cup. Hello? Don’t you SEE the two kids I’m trying to wrassle here? Now I have to move over, try to dish some into the extra cup, which still left WAY WAY WAY too much in the original cup, and no place to dump it out into. Gee thanks, lady. Next time, just charge me for 2 cups and do one swirl in the bottom of each one. PLEASE. I’ll PAY the extra dollar for crying out loud!

So now we’re outside, I’m pushing the cart, Ethan is hanging on one side, which means I have to push down on the opposite side so as not to let the whole thing tip over (remember, practically empty and therefore light cart), and Jocelyn is lagging behind singing away one of her nonsense songs. I feel as if my head might explode when I step in a pothole and twist my ankle, and my phone begins to ring, and a car turns a corner and stops to wait for me and my little train, therefore causing the ‘HURRY! HURRY!’ buzzer to go off in my brain.

I manage to answer the phone (“WHY did you give them ice cream before dinner?” “i really don’t want to go into it right now i’ll call you back bye”) and get everyone to the car. Ethan has finished his ice cream at this point, but Jocelyn hasn’t started on her (too full) cup. So I take some out of her cup and put it in the other cup, and leave it in the cart, where she promptly starts to cry and accuse me, “THAT WAS MY ICE CREAM! THAT WAS NOT NICE!” Then the usual shenanigans start in the car where I have to repeat myself about 50 times, (‘get in the car, climb in your seat, don’t climb in front, climb in your seat, buckle in, climb in your seat’ all said many many MANY times over). I had this little moment where I lost it, and then tried to get it back all at once. I didn’t yell and holler (OH so proud of me!), but I took a moment, drew in a deep breath, and said as calmly as I could, “Guys, I have lost all my patience. I don’t want to tell you again. Get. In. Your. Seats.”

And all of a sudden, they were as helpful as could be. As they were climbing into their seats (!!!) they poured out all sorts of suggestions:

e: “Where did you lose it?”
j: “I’ll help you find your patience!”
e: “I’ll find it and give it back to you!”
j: “I found it! I found your patience mommy!”
e: “You didn’t need any patience anyway mommy!”
j: “You can have MY patience mommy!”

It was a very nice drive home 🙂 Little did I know I’d lose my patience again later that evening when I would realize I didn’t buy 500 GIGS as the box LEAD ME TO BELEIVE. But in that moment, those sweet little helpful words just warmed me from the top of my head, right down to my stinking weak throbbing twisted ankle 🙂

-amy

SECRETS SECRETS

We love to have something to whisper in our household. Ethan is always deciding to tell us a secret, and usually when that little mouth gets up to my ear, he blanks out and whispers, “I love you mommy.” Not a bad secret 🙂 Jocelyn’s secret usually consists of silence, or “I have a SECRET!” whispered way too loud, so that when she approaches your ear, the parent is half listening and half trying to stay ready to pull back so as to protect the eardrums.

This morning (or maybe it was last night?) however, I heard her shout over to daddy, “I need to tell you a SECRET about how I SLEPT IN MY BED!”

So. Some concepts of “secret” still being worked out 🙂

BEDTIME

After jammies and stories and tucking in and everything is done and I’m standing at the door and say to Ethan, “Have a good sleep,” he is sooooo tickled pink to reply, “SLEEP TIGHT! DON’T LET THE BED BUGS BITE!” *(cackle cackle cackle)*

Another game we play is he lays in bed with all the covers down at his feet. He puts his arms up over his head, and his pookie bear is carefully laid down right next to him. I proceed to pull up the sheet and blankies one by one, up to the headboard and over his face and arms. After each one, he says, “Now??” and I say, “Not yet!!” until all the blankies are cover him up and only little fingers at the very top are showing. Then I say, “NOW!” and he puts his arms down, which then tucks all the blankies around him nice and snug under his armpits, and usually his pookie bear is poking out just right as well. Then we say, “Now you’re ALL SNUGGLED IN!”

I’ve done it a few times for Jocelyn, but she’s not that into it. However, after the story has been read, which takes place in the rocking glider chair in her room, I usually say, “Shall I toss/throw you into bed?” she says, “NO! THROW/TOSS me into bed!” (whichever one I DIDN’T say, is however she corrects me.) The I snuggle her up in my arms, and as I rock, I say, “1…” (chair goes back,) “2…” (chair goes back..) “THREE!” (stand up with the girl). Then I walk her over to the light switch and turn off the light with her foot which is sticking out of my bundled up girl-in-the-arms. If I miss this step, she usually corrects me, “TURN OFF THE LIGHT! WITH MY FOOT!” And then as I approach the bed, she says, “Do, ‘a-one! a-two! a-three!” and then I swing her in an exagerated baby-rocking motion and count, and then on three, and faux-toss her into the bed while she giggles with glee. Then a series of questions and answers goes on about which dolly/bear she would like to accompany her, whether or not sheets and covers are required, or which one, “Sheets?” “NOOOO!” “Blankey?” “The PINK one!” and then after she is all tucked in, kisses are administered (to girl and dolly/bear) and I can take my departure.

THE THINGS YOU LEARN

I decided that while digital photos are wonderful, I do miss the actual PHOTOS lying around the house in an organized fashion, say, a photo album. In the worst case scenario, if hard drives crash irreparably in the house and flickr HQ is hit by photo-backup-targetting missiles, we would have no record of .. well, a lot of shit. So, my project for the last few days have been to go through the photos for 2006 to pick which ones I like a ton, and get them ready for printing.

Doing this on flickr is pretty much futile, because often, I do a massive convert from RAW, shove up to flickr with no type of processing. So I would tag the ones I liked there, only to have to find them on my computer and fiddle with them, so might as well ignore flickr. I have a program called Breezebrowser that I quite like for simple browsing and conversion, but it doesn’t do any photo fiddling or any advanced type of tagging/album type stuff, so that was out. I’ve been meaning to try out Google’s picasa software, which now, I have done, and I must say, I quite like it. I can look through the photos easily from thumbnails, then I can look at each one specifically and it has a good bit of fiddling tools, such as crop, STRAIGHTEN (omg i love this one), fill light, and a very handy “i’m feeling lucky!” which does an auto correction of a lot of stuff (contrast, saturation, etc.) I can do these changes, and then undo them later if I want, as it doesn’t actually change the original files. Since I work in the RAW format, it is also very handy in that it does it all in raw also. I can add photos to my “2006 photoalbum” album, and it doesn’t move any files or try to reorganize my photos, which I like. When I have all the pictures selected in the album and properly fiddled with for the best looking results, I can go to that folder and tell it to export, and it will export all the RAW photos (which are physically located all over the place on my hard drive, mind you and would take me FOREVER to track them down manually) to JPG to a folder I specify. Then they’ll all be right there for me to upload to costco.com/snapfish’s website to print, and I’ll be able to go pick them up at costco on my way home the next day. Along with a couple of photo albums. 🙂

So, while now the software is all handled, the hard drive space is NOT… I had to grab the photos from 3 different locations in our collective computer consciousness in our household.. some were on my laptop (my primary machine) some were on our file server, where I stashed them because my machine was running out of space, and some were on my husband’s 2nd drive in his desktop, again, where i stashed because i was running out of space. BTW.. I had to delete a bunch of stuff in order to HAVE the space to move back to my laptop to work on… hope none of it was important!

Space is a big issue in our house. Grrr. So I have my eye on this 500 gig Western Digital “my book” which will solve ALL my problems for only $240 (at costco. the warehouse, not the website). Drool. I covet your bytes. And your bits.

The only problem is now James has this fancy mac laptop and he’s digging the Aperture photo software and wants to use THAT, and what the hell? how are we supposed to do this? AHHHHH?!!

So I think that separate flickr accounts will be in our future, with us just handling our own photos separately.

So, finally, I’m getting to the part where the title of this section actually stems from (it’s been so long, let me remind you, it’s “the things you learn”…) If only I had learned this lesson EARLIER… like in february of last year…

Perhaps you can take heed from my observations. I’ve now spent a good 6-8 hours going through old photos, and at the time, I must have thought it was CUTE to take pictures of dirty kids faces, now I just wish I could read through time with a wet warm soapy washcloth and WIPE OFF ALL THE SNOTTY SPAGHETTI-Y CAKE-Y DIRT-Y GROSSNESS BECAUSE IT’S SO NOT CUTE. IT’S JUST GROSS.

Practically all the photos of the kids look like this:

Do yourself a favor.

Wipe those kids’ faces. THEN break out the camera.

OK i’m done now. Happy monday.

-amy

more ZERO:

“Which story do you want to read?”
“Um. RICHARD SCARRY!”
“OK. That’s a very long one, so we can do 5 pages.”
“How about.. FOUR?!”
“Sure, we can do four. That’s less though.”
“Does four come after five?”
“No, four is before five.”
“That’s ok, we can still do four. Or, ZERO!” *holds up his hand in the shape of an O*
“I don’t think you want ZERO.. then we wouldn’t have a story time before bed!”
“Oh, ok, I changed my mind!”

‘nother cuteness. Someone at school has told him that he can “keep things in his heart.”

“Shall we have frosted mini wheats for breakfast?”
“YEAH!”
…
“Mommy, I keep these mini wheats in my heart, ALL DAY LONG.”
“Yeah? What else do you keep in your heart?”
….
“My SLIPPERS!”
*laugh*
“How about me and daddy and jocelyn?”
“Um, Yeah! You too! And all my kids. Except TJ.”
“Not TJ?”
“Nope.”
“Why not?”
“I’ll put him in my heart after this day.”
“Tomorrow?”
“Yeah. He can be in my heart tomorrow.”