Life Lately

I am not good at all at putting laundry away. I hate it. I love folding, and I love making piles. And I even love putting the piles of clothes into the appropriate hampers-blue for C, green for G and beige for us boring parents. But when this chore reaches the point of walking those baskets up the stairs to put the items away, my mind starts looking for anything, anything else to do. And that's why there are sometimes hampers with clothes for the kids to sit in and play with their 'puters.

And more proof: the next day the hampers migrated a few feet into the living room to serve as backdrop for this art session. We got the boys this Crayola thing for their birthday, and it's OK. Not terrible, not great. Good for an occasional art session.

There's a lot of talking going on during these art sessions. I hear about school, the color of the dinosaur a boy might be painting, which friends at school were good that day, which friends at school were bad, how G didn't listen during circle time at school, how C claims he was a very good boy that day, and then there are many an inquiry about the availability of treats, snacks, milk, and dinner options. Talking, talking, this kid doesn't stop.

This one isn't as verbal, mostly because its hard to get a word in when G's on a roll, but he's sure into being goofy. Excels in facial contortions.

We painted one picture that particular day and moved onto puzzles. Making a note to self to get each a large puzzle tray to make puzzling on carpet easier.

And by now we're an hour or so into all playing together, so I was waiting for the first meltdown. And there it is! Don't feel too bad for this kid, its all fake.

Very realistic, and I make it through his dramatic moments by telling myself that he needs to start practicing early if he's going to get an Oscar some day for a dramatic performance.

While he recovered from being wronged in some way, C calmly assembled the game he got for Christmas.

You put marbles on the flower petals. The object is to not make the flower tip over; if you do, all the marbles that fall go into your leaf. First person with no marbles left wins. And that was me, since the boys seem to really enjoy getting marbles. We're clearly still working on comprehension of the game rules, but we're having a good time.

Oopsie Daisying will make a kid hungry, so they ate while I assembled birthday invitations. What did I do before I had a rotary cutter? You need one, my friend!

I had close supervision. G kept an eye on me while eating his turkey meatloaf and mac and cheese. And healthy helping of ketchup. And a few apple slices so I can feel like I'm at least trying to feed them well.

Speaking of birthday, can you believe the boys will be 4 soon? They are well aware that their birthday is coming and ask every day if its tomorrow.

I cut invites, assembled, and then asked the boys how much they love me.

Just kidding. I made brownies earlier that day and I asked them how big they want their piece to be. Very big, I was told, and was shown the preferred dimensions of dessert they wanted.

I love my tub as much as I hate putting laundry away, and I'm learning the boys enjoy it as well. And apparently they love my vanity mirror as much as I need it to keep well groomed eyebrows.They don't get to use my new bubble bath, they have fancy and fun Cars bubblebath. VROOOOMMMMMM.

I would like to point out that most of the pictures above, save the first, was from Friday. On Friday I was working diligently when we got a call that G had gotten sick at school and was not feeling well. Naturally I flew into action and went to get them, expecting to relax on the couch with a sick boy. I will you decide how sick they were the rest of the day, and I will also let you decide how much work I actually got done. Let's just say the amounts are inverse of each other.

But I really didn't care, good times with the boys, and them being home gave me time to paint my nails. Also good times was G asked me what the color on my toes was called and me trying to figure out what an age appropriate explanation of Vixen, if there is one, might be. After explaining it as an ill-tempered woman, I remembered Santa and his damn reindeer with that name. I bet I would have gotten much less puzzled looks from the boys had I just used that explanation. I really hope they give me a heads up when they want to talk about the birds and the bees, I'm not that good at explanations when I'm caught off-guard.