The Answer

I swore I was going to devote any blogging time I had this weekend to my new site and would not be posting anything today BUT I have received emails, facebook messages and several face-to-face "you must tell me" 's over the question I posed yesterday so I decided to give everyone the answer today.

So these two lovely children...

Put all of these items that were unscrewed, unlatched or just generally stolen from various places of our home...

DOWN THE TOILET. 

(Note: many of these objects are replacements for the actual object as they flushed before I could get to it and then proudly told me afterwards, or fessed up when I found an empty candleholder.)

If you got this answer correct you either:

a) have read my blog long enough to know what my children are capable of 

or

b) have children similar to mine

If your answer is "b" I am happy for both of us that it is currently the weekend and drinking at any time of the day is perfectly acceptable.

I love that so many of you commented to let me know you are out there reading. If you left your blog address I am looking forward to stopping by to say hi.  If you didn't, comment again soon and leave it so I can visit.  If you don't have a blog, I'm honored that you take the time to stop here and read my words.

Off to finish my bottle of wine!!

Dear Daddy- Why We Didn't Get All the Groceries

I better start this one by saying that, yep, all this stuff happened.  My two and a half feet of wisdom could not make this mountain of disaster up...

Mommy and her long list took us to the grocery store and once we went through those magic doors that open when my little self enters, Mommy's list got short, Daddy, real short.  First that fancy car cart was not so fancy 'cause it only had one seat belt.  One seat belt for no kids who will sit still is bad news.

Our ride, sans us, for some reason Mommy could not get a blog-worthy pic

Mommy put the strap for holding-you-down-so-you-can't-join-the-party on lucky old me. Parker got to drive and Ms. Fancy Pants Kenna sat her happy self on the floor.  Not the floor of our cart, the floor of the dirty-as-a-potty ground.  You know her, wanted her own cart and wasn't budging 'til she got it.  Mommy fed her that "special treat" nonsense she dangles over our heads whenever we go somewhere and lucky for our grocery list she bought it, and started pushing me and Parker's car, all fakey nice, like she was going to be the perfectest sister the rest of our trip.

Since my crib is calling my name, I better skip a couple aisles, tantrums, getting-in-and-out-of-the-carts and put-that-backs and get down to the good stuff.  

Now picture us in the milk section, Daddy...

Pretty much no one was in the cart (except my legs, one, two if Mommy was lucky) and by now one of the Crazy amongst us was carrying an apple with squoosh spots and a bite out of it, a deck of cards and wearing her rainbow jello, I was trying (with decent success I must say) to climb out the dashboard of my car, Mommy was catching me and squishing me back in with her hair all crazy in her face while she was blocking our basket with one leg so Kenna couldn't throw anymore juices in, when she remembered the other piece of our Crazy.  Lucky she looked between her yellow hairs that minute because she almost missed an amazing feat.  Parker, my idol of carnival proportion stunts, was hard at work.  Stacking and stacking breads and standing on them real good so they smushed so nice and then getting more and more and more, 'cause that coffee cream on the top shelf was calling his name, I heard it.  (You drink coffee when you are three? Can't wait.  I think I'll take mine black, or maybe double sugar, double breast milk?  Hmmm, decisions.).  Well, either way, I don't have to tell you that Mommy shut down his side show which set off fireworks of the Parker kind.  (We will never truly know what that boy can accomplish.)

In the middle of our show, a lady was watching us with her lips white-together.  Mommy said, "I'm sure you wish you were me right now" (I think she was being snarkastic, Ms. Jill) and that lady just asked Mommy to hand her a cream.  Mommy wanted to tell her where she could put her cream but she bited her tongue for my baby ears.

So things got even better at check out.  For the Crazies, not for me... totally strapped in at this point, just here for the show I guess.  Those silly store people put those shiny Easter egg candies right where three year-olds could reach and Mommy could barely unload the cart 'cause those eggs were a rollin' and a flyin'.  Oh and the apple from aisle whatever that was?  Kenna dropped it when she was blocking Mommy from pulling chocolate eggs out of her mouth, Parker kicked it to me, my car made the save and Mommy had even more to pay her money for.

And for the grand finale, because there is one, of course...

Mommy put Parker back in the car with me and as one last goodbye, he waved out my window and then, hold on to your seat Daddy...

   threw his perfectly detached steering wheel out the other window (so we could watch it roll away at that man getting the baskets, of course).  That boy, I tell you, he never disappoints.  Never!

Oh and Daddy, we forgot your Coke but don't worry, Mommy says we are going back when hell freezes over so we'll get it then.

Love the only one who can't unbuckle his grocery car seatbelt,

Sawyer


  

Quote of the Day

-- Parker do you like chocolate chips?

-- Yes I like chocolate chips Kenna, but I love you.

Odd in the Family

I have discovered that there might be a thing or two that goes on in my family that is a bit to the left of "normal." (I may have known this all along but somedays it is glaringly obvious.)

Have you ever had one of those moments when you look at the goings-on of your house as if you were a visitor to your own life and thought to yourself, jeez we are a weird bunch??

I had one such moment today...

My daughter was eating one of those round breakfast sausage patties and I watched her perform her usual routine:

1.  Consume sausage in small bites, stopping once it is halfway devoured.

2.  Assure each bite is tiny and precise, creating a wavelike pattern horizontally across the patty.

3.  Beginning from the left hand side, name each crest in your breakfast meat after a member of the family.

4.  Carry said piece of meat around for as long as your mom will allow, talking to Mommy, Daddy, your siblings, your grandparents and your aunts and uncles about their day. (Let me tell you, no more compelling tale could be told than a day in the life of someone living atop a piece of sausage.)

For the first time I observed this regularly occurring demonstration from the outside looking in and, in realizing just how eccentric it is, assured myself that this MUST come from my husband's side of the family.

Mommy's sorry for outing you McKenna, we both know that channeling family members through your breakfast sausage is only the tip of Crazy in our house.  Although as I type, your brothers are partially clothed in your wardrobe, attempting to carry you toga-party style on an oversized stuffed fish,

leading me to believe that you may just be the mastermind of the lunacy around here.

If you have not been scared away by our relationship with meat, please tell me I am not the only one.
Who adds a bit of odd to your family?
Spill it... if for no other reason than to make me feel better :)

My Favorites of 2010, I Think

So the year is a few days from coming to a close and I'm full of I can't believe it went by so fast's, the kids are getting so old's and I wish time would slow down's so it is a perfect time for me to sift through my year of blogging and laugh and cry with myself and reflect on the crazy journey life has taken us on once again this year.

I found a great idea over at Scary Mommy that gave me an excuse to pour myself a glass of wine, listen to the song that sings "Hadley" to me playing in my blog background and scroll through my collection of posts, trying not to be to critical while finding my favorites of the year.

Thank you for reading and for being the great commenters, followers, family and friends that you are.  This blog has truly become my outlet and an amazing source of support.  I look forward to seeing where it takes me in 2011.

My favorites of 2010 (I think... it is hard to pick from your own work and I'm terrible at making decisions.  This list may change if I continue to overanalyze myself.  Oh and I did better as the year went on so maybe just skip the first couple months, k?)

January:  Memoir of a Teenager

February:  Sparkly Shoes

March:  The Youngest

April:  Belonging

May:  One Last Visit

June:  For Sale

July:  Stick

August:  Once Upon a Time

September:  Denial

October:  Today- A Letter to My Daughter

November:  The Up Side of Autism

December:  Dear Daddy- Tales from a Public Restroom

The Other Cold Medicine Warning

If you ever cannot sleep at night and are thinking about saying "give me one of those" when your husband is dosing himself some Ny.quil.  Don't do it.

Just don't.

Two parents in a cold medicine induced haze when the kids wake up many hours before it should actually be morning may lead to a steak sauce/salad dressing/anything else in the fridge-that-you-forgot-to-lock-closed-before-bedtime fiesta at your kitchen table.

This photo does not capture the potpourri of oranges, cheese and salami shredded and stuffed into baggies on the floor... I was told that was my breakfast.

Want a coke?  I'm sure it was not shaken.

The After

After being born weighing 2 lbs. 10 oz,

after two cerebral hemorrhages,

after weeks on a ventilator,

after transfusions and procedures and tests and the endless beep, beep, beep of monitors,

after 71 long days in the NICU...

my little Baby A came home, three years ago today.

Amid all the chaos of life as it stands, there is not a day that goes by that I do not shudder at the thought of Before,

blink in amazement that we made it to After

and count myself lucky that we have a "Coming Home Day" to celebrate at all.

P.S. Could there be a better shirt??

Nothing

When your kids are being quiet and you are thinking to yourself...

Oh they are so good, it is so nice they are finally old enough to entertain themselves 

and then you ask,

"What are you guys doing up there??"

and they sweetly reply

"Nothing Mommy"

THIS is NOTHING...

 Yes I drew on the clothes, pretty fancy huh?  Not big on naked pics of my kids online these days but they can't keep their clothes on for five minutes and this picture HAD to be shared.

 Another view of the thoroughness of his work

and one last view from the front, notice the attempted facial and chest hair, poor boy already knows what he is missing.

Of course I am reinforcing this behavior because, as any good blogging mommy would do, right after I asked what in the world they were doing I told them not to move and ran for the camera.  Their fear of my presence is illustrated in picture #1, McKenna continues to direct Parker in what body part to decorate as I am snap away.

Dear Daddy- A Public Restroom Tale

Well another day, another drama.

Today we ended up in the one place that mom has been dreading since... well.... I don't know since when, but this is the one place she had nightmares about.

The potty room.  
The big kind, with the walls and the doors, and lots of potties in a place that is not our house.

She thinks they are germy and can handle one with a kid or two, but has been shaking in her boots for the day that she had to cram us all in there and today was it.

We were out and about and everybody had to go and you know those Crazies, they could not WAIT to try a new potty.  (Not me Dad, you know me... just go when I need to and sit in it til someone's downwind.  I'm low maintenance that way.)

So Mommy took all of us and the diaper bag and our coats and hats and gloves (boy, does she love winter) to the potty.  As soon as we got in we all went running for those swinging doors.  The ladies on the other side kept saying "I'm in here!" but that was okay, we just rattled away at those doors anyway.

Mommy waited for the big room and squished us all in.  While Mommy got Parker all set, I layed on that cold floor and Daddy, I could see shoes for miles.  Mommy made me get up and scrubbed my cheek with a wipe while she held Parker on the potty and, since Mommy was busy and Kenna is no dummy, she took the opportunity to squeeze that paper roll right down the potty behind Parker's butt.  I pushed the flusher for her and we laughed and laughed.  Parker didn't laugh (his butt got extra wet) and neither did Mommy (not her kind of fun I guess).

Anyway, then Kenna went potty and Mommy dragged us out of that little room and tried to wash our hands but I loved this place so much I started unloading the diaper bag so we could stay a while.  Mommy said "no, no, no!" but I just smiled and chucked it all.  She started packing my unpacking job and while she was down, we all headed for the hills.  Mommy chased us with all kinds of our stuff falling off her arms and she thought the party was over but we weren't done yet.  Well we were but Parker wasn't.

He poked his arm back in there real quick and turned off the lights on all those shoes under the doors just waiting for us to get out.  The boy is genius.  Can you imagine being in there when the lights went out??  I bet no one could see a thing.  I'm glad my diaper-butt was already on the other side!

So anyway, just wanted you to know we are all safe and sound now.  I'm blogging, Mommy's sanitizing the bazillion things that hit the potty room floor (she said alcohol works, I think she is taking a swig or two).

Oh and when you have your Christmas time at home Daddy, I think you might need to give Mommy a day (or ten) off.  Because seriously....

now is not the time to break it to her, but this is probably not her last trip to a potty room with these hooligans...

Love Mommy's favorite child because I'm still in a diaper,

Sawyer

Issues

McKenna is plugging away in physical therapy, well not really plugging away, the girl barely moves a muscle but we are taking her every week just to kid ourselves that she is actually getting something out of it.

So today she resumed her usual, I'm not doing a thing here stance and the therapist decided we were going to push her limits a bit.  Mark went with her and I stayed with the boys and as we rounded the corner for our millionth lap around the building I saw McKenna heading down the hall on her little therapy bike crying her eyes out while pedaling.  Now, the rational part of me knows that sooner or later the girl does have to do some work and the therapists push-her-a-bit strategy is necessary but the irrational Mommy of the 2lb. 10oz. preemie who spent the first three months of her life crying in a NICU incubator wanted to give the physical therapist a little push of her own, take that stupid bike helmet off, unstrap her feet from the pedals and head out the door, never to return to that awful place again.

So I'm thinking I have issues (if you know me in real life or have been following me for long I'm sure you are laughing at the fact I'm saying this like it is a new thing) but really, I like her physical therapist and I know she wants the best for McKenna and I know McKenna needs to get stronger, but the minute I hear that little girl crying I flash right back to the days and days and days I spent helplessly watching her fight for her life in the NICU and I start having Ally McBeal-like visions of what should happen to whoever is making her cry.  (I hope the one person who watched that show besides me is reading this so 1 someone gets my visual.)

Ms. McKenna's first home

I'm not sure what the point of my ramblings are today other than that there are a lot of levels to being a mom.  Whether your kids are sick or healthy or preemies or angels, raising kids is not for the faint of heart or for the mildly delusional.

I am going to have to get myself and my case of post traumatic stress disorder together.

Either that or just go back to school to be a physical and occupational therapist, teacher and pediatrician so that I can get my kids through their first 18 years my way :)

Another place bites the dust

Today I found myself at the credit union, inside the credit union, with all three little ones and no stroller.  I won't get into how this happened but let's just say I had no other option and seemed to have found the only credit union branch in the state with no drive-thru teller.

I entered confident, I had talked to the kids in the car about staying by Mommy, not being too loud, not beating each other in public, etc. and I thought they may just be civilized.

From the moment we walked in the door all bets were off.

Parker headed to the brochure display and McKenna headed to inquire about getting her three year-old self a loan while I used all of my strength to keep a determined-to-get-down Sawyer in my arms.  I removed McKenna from her place in line, gave them each a brochure from Parker's quickly growing stash and steered everyone to the teller (who had NO sense of humor regarding my current children-going-crazy state).

So as I am trying to quickly handle things with the teller and stop Sawyer from ripping everything I sign I notice I can hear everything in the place too clearly and there is also a noise overhead that sounds like a speaker or microphone.

In the two seconds I was document signing McKenna had turned off their music/noise-filter and Parker had picked up the phone next to the radio and must have hit some sort of intercom button so the speaker noise overhead was MY CHILDREN.

I have to stop here and say, who uses a boom box anymore and who, in this world, keeps one two feet from their teller windows at the level of three year-olds and what is the phone for in case someone needs to make a call while in line?

I promise I have eyes in the back of my head and was turning to make sure they were not causing too much trouble every two seconds but they are fast little buggers.  Attempting to stop the madness I removed McKenna from the boom box and took the phone from Parker (silently, any comment such as "are you two insane?" or "I'm never taking you anywhere again" will be broadcast to all bank-goers).

Fortunately we were not arrested for disturbing the peace and made it out without further incident, other than the unavoidable fight over who was going to open the door when we left and then the obvious battle over who would close it.

I'm thinking our journey inside may have been worth it in the long run though.  There could be no stronger case for a drive-thru window that a visit from my children.

Parker practicing his get away run just in case I forget about today and decide to take him out in public again.

This is all I've got

Unfortunately for everyone reading, our household is full immersed in potty training and, as I sat down to blog there is not much else I can talk about.

Here are a few experiences that potty training two 3 year-olds at once has give me...

1. Saying "do you have to go potty?" so many times that now everyone is just asking each other:
    Do you have to go potty Kenna?
    Do you have to go potty Parker?
    Do you have to go potty Sawyer?
    Do you have to go potty Mommy/Daddy/Sissy? (Sissy does NOT appreciate this question)

2.  Sitting in the CVS parking lot begging my daughter, who is looking at me like I have two heads, to use the cute little portable potty that my friend, the potty genius (you know who you are), recommended.  (See #3 for results of debate)

3.  Heading through CVS to find pull ups with a 3 year old trailing behind walking like she just completed a long horseback ride since peeing down your leg while walking into the store is a much better alternative than listening to your Mommy and going on your new portable potty.

4.  Completely stripping and cleaning two car seats and covers because the refusal to use portable potty is catchy. (thank goodness for shopping trip in #3, pull ups will be worn by all seated in the back seat of our vehicle)

5.  Extensive visits to the bathroom. I have a chair in there now.  And a pillow and blanket. 
Singing, dancing, book reading, all done in the bathroom, in hopes of getting someone to stay in there long enough to get something accomplished and to avoid a trip right back in there 2 minutes later.

6.  Rearranging of the vehicle to fit their full size little potty since the portable one is not catching on.  (see #2 and #3)

7.  Prebooking dentist visits.  The amount of treats it takes to get these people to go is impressive.

7.  Creative naming of pull ups.  They are not diapers, we are far too mature for that. They are big-kid-pants-for-when-we-nap-and-go-somewhere.

And my absolute favorite...

8.  The thorough investigation of all unidentified objects.  There is no drop of liquid nor speck of brown-toned crumb that can be passed by, wiped up or swept without thorough inspection and questioning of all nearby (or faraway and hiding) parties.  NEVER. A. DULL. MOMENT.

And lastly, a bedtime conversation that sums up the learnings of our week:

Me:  Big girls...

McKenna:  go on the potty.

Me:  Right!  And big boys...

Parker:  only wipe their butts when they poop.

My crazy potty trainees + 1. Slappy happy from days and days in the house because Mommy does not want to strip clean the car seats again.

We are 3!

Baby A- McKenna 2 lb. 10 oz.

Baby B- Parker 1lb. 14 oz.

Baby C- Hadley 2 lbs. 5 oz.

McKenna 1 year old

Parker 1 year old

McKenna 2 years old

Parker 2 years old

My 3 year old beautiful girl

My handsome 3 year old little man

What an amazing three years. You have brought more love to your mommy and daddy than you will ever know.  

As we put you to bed last night, on the eve of your third birthday I heard this as I shut the bedroom door...

Good night McKenna

Good night Parker

Happy Birthday McKenna

Happy Birthday Parker

Your birthday is October 9th McKenna, 

I will bake you a cake.

The only thing sweeter would have been one more little voice echoing the same.

Happy 3rd Birthday my sweet babies

Change, change, change

We have had lots of changes in our house lately and I have had a few requests for updates on various subjects so here we go...

Toddler beds:

We put the beds up.

They played.

McKenna repeated "don't want to sleep in a big girl bed" 3 million times.

Mark put her crib back up.

Nights are great but short, naps are nonexistent.

Yesterday I entered their room to find Parker climbing McKenna's crib while she had him in a headlock and he had her by the hair, both screaming themselves hoarse.

The sibling love I had always envisioned.

Parker in his big boy bed (railing followed the next day)

McKenna:

McKenna has been doing pretty well.  She has slowly rebounded from her health scare in the spring but has never returned back to full strength.  She goes to physical therapy weekly and has braces on her feet and ankles which she tolerates really well (the fact that they are pink helps immensely).  We have also noticed that whenever she is sick or overtired that her muscle weakness along with some OCDish behavior come back which concerns her doctors but at this point we are taking a little vacation from all of the medical tests.  

The poor girl has been through enough.

High school:

Ashlyn is doing the best that Ashlyn can.  The adjustment to the expectations of high school have been tough to say the least.  She goes to school each day trying her hardest and that is all I can ask for.  

In the meantime I will continue to dream about winning the lotto so that I can create my own school that  works for her and the many other kids with autism who struggle through their education.

Ashlyn on her way to scoring a well-deserved goal at her soccer game.

P.90x:

I am on week 4.  I love the program and have seen results really quickly BUT my exercise schedule depends on the fact that my children actually sleep (see "Toddler beds").

I may be on week 4 for a while.

Lastly, I put the kids in a Mommy & Me (& Me & Me) class and they did great.  I was thrilled to find a class that would even include Sawyer.  They all surprised me with how well they did and the teacher kept commenting on how well behaved they are.  They were only good because they were in shock by all of the activity (we don't get out much) but I took the compliment and ran.  I'm looking forward to their weeks to come in the class, hoping Parker and McKenna will come out of their shells a little bit and that Sawyer will stop eating the glue sticks.

The best picture I could get of the three of them on their first day of "school"

Fall fashion and pockets

My little fashionista is thrilled that it is fall.

I thought McKenna was going to hyperventilate from excitement as she saw me pulling out her warm clothes.

I had to hide them in the spring.  I stored them in bins (only solid colored bins, nothing she could see into) and packed them away in storage.

Without an expert hiding job she would have been wearing pink corduroys, sparkly sweaters, a zebra print skirt, striped tights and knee socks.  All at once.  All summer long.

In fact I'm not really sure fashionista fits her.

I'm thinking stubbornista may be more appropriate.  She basically just choses the most horrendous combination of clothing in her closet and then refuses to wear anything else.

Ms. McKenna sporting her first fall outfit, too small dress and leggings
(turquoise and yellow hoodie put on soon after).

So as I began carefully hiding her most coveted summer clothes and digging out her fall wear she could barely contain herself.  She immediately put on a hoodie and has been beside herself all week.  (Aside from her sense of style she also has a little hoarding issue and is just overjoyed with all she can manage to carry now that she has pockets in her hoodie and in her pants.)

Week one of fall wardrobe and this is what I have confiscated from her pockets thus far:

my sock
her sock
her underwear
Parker's underwear
an animal cracker
a mini princess doll
a few cheerios
a rock
part of a bagel (with peanut butter)
a beanie baby
and last but not least
      an egg beater

Today, I was behind on wash and she was out of hoodies so, not to sway from her hoarding habits, she put on TWO PAIRS OF UNDERWEAR so that she could store things IN BETWEEN THE TWO PAIRS.

Who does this??

I can only imagine when winter comes and a winter coat adds to her number of pockets.  Who needs a diaper bag, or a dresser, or kitchen cupboards for that matter when you have pockets.

Clean up in aisle 3

These little shopping carts are a great idea,

for someone else's children.

In a moment of temporary insanity I decided not only to take all of the kids to the grocery store but to let Parker and McKenna push their own carts instead of strapping everyone down like any clear-headed mom would have done.

I took the picture above after about 30 seconds in the store (notice the empty carts and the fact that I had a hand to snap a picture).  About 5 seconds later Parker took a quick right and decided we need a lime from the bottom of a fruit display.
Clean up in produce


Once I got them untangled from the limes and somewhat facing the same direction I made a beeline for the few items we needed but could not, for some reason, get us all moving in a straight line. (This, of course, was what I pictured when I decided to let them push carts.  Me, pushing Sawyer with Ashlyn helping to get the groceries while the Crazies followed happily behind us in a single file line, happily giggling every time we set something in their cart.  Delusional, I know.)

Anyway, I quickly gave up on getting in front of them and just did damage control from behind.  Before I could blink or actually shop, Parker was helping himself to a box of macaroni and cheese
clean up in aisle 3
and McKenna was turning down the next aisle carrying a foot long pre-wrapped sausage and a can of spray cheese.

My next strategy was just to get out.  I sent Ashlyn ahead of us to look for an empty aisle for us to go down so we did not continue to hold up traffic and just kept repeating "follow Sissy, follow Sissy, follow Sissy" until I was blue in the face.  Eventually I spotted a basket of suckers near the checkout, told Ashlyn to go pick a few up and wave them at us (she looked at me like I was insane but nothing could make more of a scene than we already had so she obliged).

With Ashlyn waving us to the finish line, the kids followed the sugar bribe and we made it to the checkout.  Parker unloaded launched the items from his cart onto the conveyor
clean up at check out
McKenna chanted "open the sucker, open the sucker," Ashlyn asked for every snack within view, I payed and we got out of there.

I swear I heard a cheer break out as the automatic doors shut behind us.

Back to grocery shopping at midnight I guess.  Now that they had a taste of grocery store freedom I will never be able to strap them in a cart again.

Stick

I should start out by saying we have a new toy, a big climby thing for the backyard that is tall enough to have a McKenna-approved slide but not too tall to give the kids one more way to climb out of our yard.

So with the addition of a new toy usually comes the addition of a new game.  My kids seem to make up a lot of their own games, if you could call them that.  They are more like words they say over and over to go with some strange activity that their two and a half year-old little minds think is fun.

The latest game is called "Stick."

Now you could guess the rules of "Stick" all day long and I promise that you would never figure out this one.  Only children as strange creative as mine could come up with this one.

The first day we got our new climbing toy the kids had a blast on it, climbing in and out of the tunnels and going down the slides and eventually, they ended up flinging off their diapers from the top of the slide and continuing on their way.  They were saying something and giggling on the slide but we were just laughing with them, not realizing this was the beginning of the game.

Day two of the new toy the kids are playing on it for maybe two minutes before the diapers come off again and they start saying the same thing they were saying the day before.  We decipher between giggles that they are saying "stick."

"Stick, stick, stick, stick." More giggles.

So after watching this strange new activity our adult brains put it all together and discover the rules of the game.  Very simple, yet VERY original.

1. Go to the top of the tall slide
2. Take off your diaper
3. Make sure your butt is firmly against the slide.
4. Yell "stick" the whole way down the slide as you try to peel your butt cheeks off the plastic and make it all the way to the bottom.

Little geniuses aren't they?

They have a blast playing their new game and the giggles are contagious.  We just can't have any company over that does not have an extremely good sense of humor.
Not everyone appreciates a good game of sticking your bare butt to plastic.

Oh and last but not least Sawyer is walking.  Not, completely, independent walking yet but he is getting braver by the day and will take about ten steps on his own before resorting back to crawling.

My baby days are quickly coming to an end :(

Strawberry Jam

How to Make Strawberry Jam with your Nana:

First find a good taste tester to check the strawberries

Then find some girls to mash them up

Bring them more strawberries whenever they ask (girls do not have much patience)

Put on your cheesiest grin, grab a masher and help them

Stir, stir, stir (have Nana hold the bowl because this could get a little wild)

Carefully put the jelly in the jars (can you believe they are letting us do this part?)

Give your brother your extra tools to keep him happy

Grab a quick taste

Then show off your finished product.

And the next day when it is time to try it on your toast?  Go ahead and slide your whole body into the back of the chair and eat just like that.

Tastes much better that way.