Classy halloween decor

We are nothing if not classy in our Halloween decorations around here.

Instructions to be classy, too: Let your two-year-old and her cousin get into the box of bandaids by themselves.  Reap the benefits on current decor, bedposts, stuffed animals, themselves, etc.

Auto pilot

Sometimes I feel like I'm living life on auto pilot mode.  For example, this coloring job by Eliza was hanging up for at least a week or two before I really looked at it. 

Awkward!

Thumper said so

My mom used to remind us "if you can't say something nice, don't say anything at all."  That's why I haven't blogged about Lily's potty training yet.  Or, in other words, the battle To Poop or Not to Poop in One's Undies.  (Scoreboard: Lily: 18, Mom: 0)

Here is a picture of our shower, or as we not-so-affectionately call it, The Underwear Tree.

Crazy Eliza Month

Last week our school had a "Crazy Sock Day."  Because nothing improves school spirit like having kids come wearing crazy socks, right?

That morning, Sage came up for breakfast wearing two different colored socks.  Eliza showed up wearing two white socks.  I reminded her that it was Crazy Sock Day, and she got an excited look on her face and said, "Mom, I am wearing crazy socks.  One of them is clean and one of them is dirty!"'

Speaking of crazy and Eliza, she has always been extremely "creative" in the names she gives her stuffed animals.  (Remember the dog "Riding on the Back"?)  Unlike everyone else, who calls our cat "Kitty," Eliza's been calling our feline "Kitty on the Radio" for weeks now.  But apparently that wasn't good enough, because yesterday she suggested a replacement for "Kitty on the Radio."  I had to take a video clip, and even when she repeated her idea for the camera, I had a hard time not snorting with laughter.

Putzin.  So we can call her Putz-in-Boots.  Awesome.  (Maybe all this naming drama came about because she spent 29 days with the legal name of Female Williams?  Mark and I better get to work on boy names fast.)

First day of school laughs

 First day of school, 2009

First day of school, 2010

First day of school, 2011

On Sage's first day of school she was insistent about wearing the exact same shirt she wore to the first day of school last year and the year before.  Same size even.  Either Sage is not growing, or the shirt is growing, or I'm the biggest tightwad ever.  I know I'm a tightwad (but not that tight).  And shirts don't usually grow (or maybe that's just my third trimester perspective).  As to Sage growing, I know there's no way she'd let me put darling little pigtails in like I did two years ago.  (She plans to wear the same shirt to the first day of school next year, but with braids in her hair this time.)  I just have to be glad she isn't wearing a back to school outfit like mine from the blessed year 1989 (think matching brown shorts and vest and big brown bangs over big glasses).

As for Eliza, she is thrilled to be in kindergarten.

 

And if you didn't know better, you might think she landed herself a spot in Miss Spider's kindergarten class.

And so Lily won't feel left out, I've enrolled her in a little alternative to preschool that I like to call Grocery Shopping 101, where she and I get to do all the grocery shopping (and other errands) together after we drop off the school girls, and we will NEVER take her older sisters with us again until next summer.

Happy Back to School 2011.

The vomit scale

How is it that when your own kid pukes 10 times in one night (the number of dirty bowls in my sink let me know it truly was 10), it's like a 8 out of 10 on the lameness scale....

But when a neighbor kid barfs once in your car, it's 12 out of 10 on the same scale?

That is one of the 600 reasons why I will never run a day care out of my home.

To My Garden

Dearest Garden,
It is really nice of you to carry on, growing tasty things deep down there amongst all those 6 million weeds that I'm supposed to be attending to.

The yellow Siamese twin squash you gave us was unlike any I've ever seen before.  I'm a little scared to eat it, actually.

The peas were a huge hit with Lily.  One day when I hauled her out of the garden into the bathtub, unbeknownst to me, she brought the peas with her and decorated the tub.  She's sad that pea season is over. 

I think the tomato jungle is doing well, even in the absence of cages until last week (that was not good planning, by the way).  We have quite a hoard of green tomatoes, even though Lily picks them whenever she thinks I'm not looking.  I'm counting on some amazing homegrown ones to teach Lily this year that tomatoes are not the worst food on the planet.  (So far she thinks they're just green apples.)

When I brought in another huge load of summer squash today, Sage accused me of falsely informing her that gardens are harvested in the fall.  Let's just let her think that is true, and I'll keep eating the handful of raspberries that ripen each day that never make it inside. 

I think heaven will have lots of sun-warmed raspberries.  Just maybe with less bees hovering.  And maybe heaven will have zucchini plants that only produce the exact number of zucchinis you need.  I'm not complaining, but my compost pit is getting pretty full of zucchinis, which causes me a tiny bit of guilt.  As does the number of zucchini muffins I personally consumed today. 

Kitty love

I am so pleased with how brave my girls have been with our little kitty.

j
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 Eliza offered to take a picture of the kitty and me.  Behold.  The kitty and [part of] me. 

Haven't we talked about Eliza's photography skills before?  Because it seems like they're just getting worse.