White Easter

So, the Easter Bunny woke up yesterday to snow! Yes, we had a white Easter. It was looking very Christmassy outside. But we had colorful eggs to counteract all that pristine white:

eggs1.jpg

The kids went to town with the wax crayon. Andrew wrote his name on one of the eggs; Kyra wrote Mommy. She also wrote Boo on another (why, I don’t know). Andrew wrote E=MC2 on yet another (again, I don’t know why). You see 11 eggs because one cracked during boiling. (Just one! I think that counts as a cooking non-disaster as far as I’m concerned.)

On Friday, we surprised the kids with a little getaway. There’s a hotel with a mini-water park (really, it’s just two small pools, some slides, and so on) that they have much love for. We stared there once when the power went out for a couple of days.

Anyway, we told them we were going out to eat. Bob took the kids while I stayed back and packed their swim stuff and an overnight bag. We ate dinner at the restaurant next to the hotel. Andrew, Mr. Theatrics, was all: “Oh, I can smell the chlorine. It smells so good. Please can we get a room and go swimming?”

“Oh, no, no, no. Easter weekend, I’m sure they don’t have any rooms.”

And so on with the dramatics and denials.

We left the restaurant, then drove around to where our room was. The kids were bouncing, not quite sure what was going on. We still didn’t say anything, just grabbed the bags, headed up the stairs, and into our room.

Then they got it.

So even though it snowed all weekend long, a good, if exhausting, time was had by all.

Stuff that

So, I ran to the store this afternoon to do a little survival grocery shopping. I left Kyra by my computer desk, quite happily working on one of her paper projects. Give her a ream of my computer paper, crayons, scissors, and some tape, and she’ll go to town. In fact, I’ve said, “Wow, B, you’re going to town,” so many times, that now, she’ll glance up while working and ask: “Mommy, am I going to town?”

She’s made her own toolbox and tools out of paper, a paper baby and a paper baby carrier (along with rattle, bottle, and so on). I wasn’t sure exactly what she was after this time, but it looked cute. However, between the time I left for the grocery store and returned home, there was a meltdown of epic proportions.

Apparently, she was trying to make a paper stuffed animal. She had the front, and the back, and figured out the way to make sides. Then she put the whole thing together–inside out.

How this went from meltdown to Bob pulling out the sewing machine to make her a real stuffed animal, I still don’t know. But he did. And since you can’t make one child a stuffed animal without making the other one a stuffed animal, Andrew got one too. Kyra named her bear Buttons. Andrew named his manatee (we’re calling it a manatee at any rate) Dairy–because it’s a sea cow. The laughs, they never stop around here.

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Dairy and Buttons

Sure signs of spring

Driving home from school last night, a cry rose from the backseat:

Mommy! The Dairy Queen! It’s open, it’s open, it’s open! Can we go? Turn, turn, turn!

Yes, it’s true. Our local, seasonal DQ is open for business. The kids, they want to go. Badly.

And today, instead of boots, I wore my new Chuck Taylor One Stars (in camouflage, of course).

Most explosive

So, Andrew’s car won “most explosive” last night at the “extreme” pinewood derby. One of the nice thing about Boy Scouts is the pinewood derby isn’t quite the ordeal that it was in Cub Scouts (special weigh-ins, lockdowns, etc.). And, if the dads want to participate, they build their own car. It’s pretty much anything goes. One boy decided a banana car would be just the thing (as in wheels on a real banana).

Anyway, during one of the races, the soda can Andrew was using as added weight (anything under two pounds is okay) exploded in a spray of pink tropical twister delight. The older boys made up the last minute category of most explosive, and a good time was had by all, especially Andrew, who looked extraordinarily pleased at being singled out.

In other news, earlier that day, he asked me if I’d every heard of an author who writes scary stories and whose last name is King.

Uh, run that name by me one more time. I’m not sure I recognize it.

So we talked about the prolific Mr. King. I said his stories were very scary and Andrew might want to wait a bit. Andrew likes the idea of being scared by stories more than actually being scared by them. So he’s intrigued. One of his friends is reading a Stephen King book. According to Andrew: “He’s on page four and scared already!”

This is also the friend Andrew and another friend are trying to help be a good student by brainwashing.

“How are you doing that?” I asked.

“We stand next to him and shout: ‘You are a good student!’ So far, it’s working!”

A boon to educators everywhere, no doubt.

Daylight Wasting Time

I read once that the best way to cope with a time change (jetlag or whatever) was exercise. Sadly, I believe the writer of the article meant a nice walk in the sunshine, not aerobic weight training at o’dark thirty. I have one word for that:

Y-A-W-N

Things we discovered this weekend:

Andrew can put together his own pinewood derby car. Okay, so we bought the kit with the pre-shaped car. Still, he did it all himself. I just wish the manufacturers would illustrate the box with a car made by an actual eleven year old and not a computer enhanced image by a master craftsman.

The library book we can’t find is called Uh-Oh, confirming that the irony never stops around here.

Andrew has the same exact shoe size as I do, but he won’t let me wear his new skateboarder shoes.

Chocolate pumpkin cupcakes are a big hit.

I found the recipe at Marianne’s. I had to use a bit of water, however. While she said her mixture had a mousse like consistency, mine was like excavated dirt. And I swear to you, I waited until they were completely cool to frost them. Nevertheless, something happened.

Andrew asked me why I spooned pudding all over the cupcakes. I told him it was frosting. He shrugged and said, “Well, it still tastes good.”

And we congratulated ourselves on such a healthy, beta-carotene filled treat.

A conversation that could only happen in our house

 So, last night, the Marvelous Miss B was writing a play based on a picture she drew. She was working to assign everyone roles, who would play the bunny, who would play the squirrel, who would play the chickadee, even who would play the audience.

She couldn’t get Andrew to commit to the role of squirrel and was getting frustrated. At which point, I said:

“Why don’t you storyboard a few more scenes for your play?”

Miss, B, totally unfazed. “Okay.”

So she did. And in case you’re interested in getting your acting career off the ground, we’re still looking for a few good chickadees.

Cross. Word.

Ha. A brand new quiz and it’s mine, all mine.


You Are a Crossword Puzzle


You are well read, and you have a good head for remembering facts.
You are a wordsmith. You have a way with words, and you’re very literate.
You are a mysterious person who enjoys dropping little clues every now and then.
The only problem with those clues is I forget to pick them back up again.