Ah, the Fabulous Age of Four

Isn't it so fun to go the birthday parties of your friends' children? The friends you've known since before any of you had even the slightest notion of motherhood? And you walk around the party and realize how much your life has changed in just a few short years; engagements and marriages (for them, of course, not me! *wink*), and then babies and even second babies.

And then all of a sudden your nostalgic bubble is broken by the sound of your four year old's meltdown about having to leave the party early. It never fails. No matter how hard I try to plan around my work schedule, we always have to leave something before it's over so that I can get to work on time. As you can imagine, my need to get to work in a timely fashion does not jive at all with his need to chase other small boys around someone's backyard for another 5 minutes 1hour for the rest of all eternity. Nothing in my bag of tricks could convince him to walk out the door without hysterics and loud string of "I'M SORRY'S". That's right, my sweet boy...never forget your good manners, even in a crisis situation!

This won't happen when he's twelve, right? Please keep reminding me that the day will come when he won't shove his whole fist in his mouth and start wailing at the words "It's time to go..."

TGIF

Yeah...I know it's only Sunday...BUT I HAVE THE WHOLE NEXT WEEK OFF SO IT'S FRIDAY TO ME! Wahoooo! Uh...sorry, was that too loud? My fault...all that excitement is hard to contain, you know. And I need it, too. My home is a wreck. I need some industrial size trash bags and a pickup truck to set it right. Especially the basement...anybody need a dryer? Granted, the heating element doesn't work, but it still spins 'round and 'round! *wink* That spare (broken) dryer is one of many things that will find it's way to the dump this week. It will feel so much nicer when all the clutter is gone.

Anybody got any fun summer plans I could steal for my own? I took every other week off this summer to spend some quality summertime fun with the kid and now I need to fill all of those hours with stuff for us to do before we get on each other's nerves and I sell him to the ice cream man for a chocolate cone.

I Suppose I Can Kiss my Grammy Dreams Goodbye...

I was driving Lucas to my Mom's house on the way to work today and I started to sing him "You Are My Sunshine". I wasn't through the first verse and I hear him "snoring" in the back seat. I thought, Oh, how sweet...he's pretending that my singing has lulled him to sleep, what a dear boy! Really, that's exactly what I thought...and then I said it out loud to him.

"Nope! I'm sleeping...so you don't have to sing anymore!"

Nice. Ungrateful kid...I bet there a millions of children in this world who would LOVE to have their mothers sing off key at the top of their lungs to them...MILLIONS I TELL YOU!

Little Punk

A Little Punk eating a Dora yogurt...'cause all little punks know that Dora yogurt tastes the best.

I Shouldn't Have to Work When it's This Nice Out...

Strawberry Fields Forever

Twirling amongst the berries...

Because when I say stand still, I really mean spin around like a helicopter.

Yummmmmmmmm...
Double yum...you wanna know what made these even better?

The sugar biscuits and fresh whipped cream I put 'em on. I'd post a picture of that but it was all such a blur once it hit the plate...maybe next time. ;-)

So Much for Our "Summer of Fitness"

Okay...so earlier in the year I decided that this summer would be the "Summer of Fitness" for me and the kid. This means we play outdoors from morning 'til night, we eat healthier foods and in general, we just get off our collective butts. Trust me...we could both use it. Riiiiight. That's going swimmingly, Lucas knows every episode of Spongebob by heart, and I have at least a few new dimples in my behind.

Which brings me to my point. I was at a scrub sale at a local hotel, and I pulled a pair of pants off the rack and saw that there appeared to be a pregnancy belly band where the draw string should be. I wondered out loud about how comfy these maternity pants would be and the saleslady came right over and told me, No, these were NEW! And NOT MATERNITY! I was so very excited that I bought them on the spot. Scrubs are not supposed to be form fitted anyway, so the fact that I now own a pair of baggy scrub pants with a stretchy waist band might be dangerous. Everyone hide your potato chips.