My Christmas Wish

We had a wonderful Christmas but the best part--we got some snow!  The days and weeks leading up had been unseasonably warm and although this brought many a midwesterner happiness, I was really hoping for a real winter-y Christmas.  And we got it.  A nice big blizzard. 

Thankfully our friends have a four wheeler with plow on the front and I think Chris' best present was an excuse to borrow it and have some fun in the neighborhood.

All the boys had a great time plowing, shoveling and playing while Millie and I stayed inside and practiced the Kazoo

and made marshmallows.

Princess really liked them.

We had a great time.  But eventually all bowls and beaters have to be taken away and washed, even if they have been thoroughly licked clean.

But she was back to her happy self in no time and for the next couple days we had some great hot cocoa mornings.

Hide and seek

I'm avoiding all the apologies and excuses.  Got out of the habit for a while.  A long while.  Trying to get back.  With that--I leave you with a very short video clip.  I think it's hilarious (but I realize it's my own child).  This is Millie playing with our new kitty, Pumpkin.  My sister-in-law caught it on her phone.  The best part, Millie had already done this several times before we got it on video.  (Cat goes in basket, basket is covered with pillows, Millie counts, then uncovers kitty).  But, you'll see, when she uncovers the cat her expression is as if she never knew it was there in the first place.  Sorry, but it still cracks me up even after 50 times.  And please don't call the ASPCA over Amelia's treatment of Pumpkin.  She usually picks her up the right way :).  And Pumpkin has yet to run away so I figure it can't bother her too much.

Player #3

What event could be big enough to bring me out of my inadvertent blogging drought? Well . . . Mister Moo's soccer team FINALLY won a game! The last one of the season (beginning last September). They have never even come close--been thoroughly trounced at every one. And this time--this time they pulled out all the stops and my boy found out that he is actually a very good soccer player when he watches the ball more than the dragon flies.

He's pretty quick. And a decent kick. And he may be small, but he can hold his own against the bigger kids.

We parents were overjoyed just to have the game tied (2 to 2). Seriously, watching us you would have thought is was some pro sports final--jumping up and down, excited screams, hollers of encouragement. And then when they actually won (5 to 4)--whaaaaa, we never thought it would happen. And all this was done in 95 degree air soaked in it's own humidity.

The last few minutes of the game were actually called due to the heat and the kids literally dropping like flies. The referees were trying to push through to the end but the boys were obviously exhausted. The clincher was when the biggest boy on the other team took a fall. He was unhurt but it took a lot of persuading to get him back up. As he started to walk back to the sidelines the coach said something about all-right-let's-get-back-out-there-and-finish-up-this-game. That's all he could take. The humidity had sucked the 8 year old right out of him and toddler tantrum was all that was left. He broke down with a wail "I'm too tired!"

And that was the end of the game.

Matthew and his team were elated, we all went out for ice cream, and then his Dad and I had a good talk about how nice it is to support our boy but what particular things may or may not be appropriate to yell at 8 year old soccer matches.

I'm not sure if sports will turn out to be his scene. He seems to get more excited about math and science. (Just today Will was explaining to Joseph what magic was by way of an example and Matthew kindly and sincerely commented: That's not magic. That's physics.) But he gave it his best, tried really hard, actually played VERY well, and I love him for it.

Way to go Buddy!

Side note: The little Miss took her first two faltering steps on the side lines of the game. I'm sure they'll be the first of many steps taken while trying to stay occupied at her brothers' activities.

Sure to win for best comedy

CHARACTERS: The Fates, Old Man Winter

SCENE: Curtains open on a sunny patio. The Fates are sitting around a lawn table, enjoying some cookies with Old Man Winter.

The Fates: So glad you could stop by, Old Man.

Winter: Well, I was happy to get the offer. Not much to do anymore you know. Just enjoying the quite life till the snooze alarm of Fall goes off.

The Fates: Would you like some lemonade?

Winter: Why, thank you. I would. Think I'll just put my feet up a bit. Sun my toes. Ohhh, that feels good.

The Fates: Yes, it seems all our toes are ready for a little illumination. We were just watching Emily put her winter boots away yesterday.

Winter: What?

The Fates: Emily. We were just watching her yesterday. She so carefully tucked her boots safely into the back of her closet to enjoy a much needed rest until next year. So nice of her.

--Old Man Winter lurches clumsily from his reclined chair, shoveling down the last of his cookie and lemonade, grabbing for his shoes--

The Fates: Can we help you with something Old Man. You look in a hurry.

Winter: Oh. Yes you can help me. Come on. This will be hilarious.

The Fates: But you just sat down.

Winter: No matter. This is worth it. Can't pass it up.

--They hurry over to look down on earth--

Winter: Watch this. Oh, it's so funny. Hand me that over there.

The Fates (quizzically): This?

Winter: Yes, hand it to me.

The Fates: But it's March 30th?

Winter: I know. That's what makes it so funny. Get it?!

The Fates: Oh, that IS funny. Yes, we will help. Here. Here is an extra helping. Pour that on down there.

--riotous laughing ensues--

The Fates: Oh, that's just gangbusters. Hilarious. Oh, we have to do this more. We can't stand it.

Winter: I KNOW. I just can't get enough. Here, you pour some. So so funny. Bwhaaaaahahahahaha!

Happy March 30th!

As long as the Silver Lining Weighs Less

The Down Side:

Puke in my hair, on the wall, and the carpet

Far too much T.V. for Joseph

Matthew wore a T-shirt on Monday (short sleeves--it's freezing here)

Missed the bus/late to school both days this week

The Up Side:

Down 5 pounds in 2 days

Not my favorite way to loose unwanted holiday pounds. But at least I get something out of it.

*Thanks to my sweet hubby and fantastic sam for letting me sleep it off*

Snow Day

I wonder if, as a girl, I could have seen a vision of my day today, what I would have thought.

34 years old, finally showering at noon, while my baby slept and my boys played legos. {That part is certainly questionable, but don't worry young girl self, there's more to it.} Excited to find the time to actually blow dry my hair. Holed up in the house and thinking of the irony in having a snow day, but not enjoying the snow because it is menacingly cold outside. Curling up in front of the fire and reading Christmas stories. Listening to the boys make Amelia laugh.

I can't remember if I every conjured up a future like this. But I think, if some ghost of Christmas Future visited my young self, and opened the scene on today , I would have been happy.

No Rest For The Weary

My sweet William is home from school with a cough today. I took it as a sign that we all should enjoy a nice nap. So after lunch I fed the baby, and we all trooped upstairs to crawl into my bed. William snuggled up on one side of me and quickly slipped into dream land. Joseph on my other side quietly played with some stuffed animals, and I slid down into the covers with Amelia tucked into my arm.

But somehow she didn't understand what was happening. Since she had a captive audience and her biggest fan at her disposal, she picked this time to begin what I'm sure will be an illustrious oratory career. For this first performance she favored us with a stunning piece of verbal showmanship filled with coos, ga gas (that's "ga" with an "s", not "gas", although that made a slight appearance as well), gurgles, and the occasional thbbbbbttttttt. It focused on the comparison between her past few months in our family and her previous experience. I didn't catch all of what she was saying, but I'm pretty sure the gist of it was, even though before she showed up here she had better food, people didn't drop her, and she didn't have to wear diapers, she is willing to look past all that, doesn't mind the occasional rough and tumble, and is really quite enjoying herself and hopes we all have a bright future together.

Me too, Sister, me too. And you can help that brightness along right now by laying that sweet smelling head down on my chest and letting those little eyelids drop . . . Ahhhhh, thanks.

William

I love this boy.

I love your sweet, generous nature.

I love how excited you were to find out you would have a sister.

"Mom, now we'll have 3 girls in our family!"

(me, Amelia, and the cat)

I love how caring and protective you are towards her.

(But please come and get me next time she wakes up.

Instead of bringing her down the stairs to me.)

I love your independence.

Independence you show in almost all facets of your life.

Like wanting to decorate your own birthday cake.

You did a fantastic job of it.

I love your intensity for life.

And your newly found passion for soccer.

Goal!

I love how you lead your team in cheers when you're not playing.

And they follow you.

Even though they really have no idea what you're doing.

I love how you adore your Daddy.

And want to go with him everywhere.

Even if you're just going to watch him play basket ball at the church.

And I'm sure the stake patriarch,

who was playing ball with Daddy,

and who was also very good at the game,

didn't mind your comments,

and realized you were very sincere in your feedback,

when you told him,

"Good game for getting old."

I love your curiosity.

Though sometimes it brings mixed results.

Like the time I was standing at the sink and you hurried in from outside

to cautiously tell me

"Oh, Oh, Mom, I just had an accident. I dropped a match on Joseph's pants and it was on fire.

And then it fell on the deck."

Or the time you toured the house with a measuring tape,

filling your little mind with numbers and amounts,

and you came up behind me and so helpfully offered,

"Here Mom, I'll measure your bum."

I love the absolute confidence you have in your older brother.

So that when he steps forward gesturing to your wiggly tooth and says,

"Here, let a professional do it"

and you ask calmly

"Will it hurt?"

and he responds with a kurt

"No"

you open your mouth with all the trust in the world.

And you both come away 5 seconds later with beaming grins.

You with a new gaping smile.

Him with a slimy pink trinket.

And I love your forgiveness.

So when I have to hurriedly grab your soccer socks out of the laundry bin

you look at me with understanding and say

"It just happens.

People just forget to wash kids clothes.

It's okay, it doesn't matter. You just made a little mistake.

It just happens. It's alright."

And I look at you and think

I love you.

bad news for the washer

I'm on my third shirt of the day. Miss Millie is in her third outfit--second set of pajamas. I should be on my second set of pants but I'm not. One, because I'm not wearing pants, I'm wearing a skirt, and two, because the skirt made it through the day scott free until this evening, when it was the sad sponge for a load of puke, and I'm about to rid myself of these clothes for my comfy pj's anyway, so I can tolerate the sour milk smell for the next 15 minutes. blahhh. Par for the course I guess.

And I don't even have a photo. Because I haven't downloaded my camera in some time. Maybe soon. After I tackle the laundry.

How I Know I'm A Mother

how i know i'm a NEW mother (again):

When I bit my fingernail off the other day it tasted like Desitin.

how i know i'm a GIRL mother:

They found me. I don't know how they know. They have never contacted me before. But this catalog just showed up in the mail.

how i know i'm a BOY mother:

In the past couple of days I have heard a guttural laugh accompanied by "It's wedgie time!" more times than I've been asked for bacon.

how i know i'm a SEASONED mother:

I just spent the better part of two hours washing prodigious amounts of vomit out of a car seat in the tub of a cheap hotel in Salina, Utah. All it's intricate parts and straps are now spread out on towels drying and I am about to exit my outside-entrance room, head around the corner and down an alley straight out of "Law and Order" to the hotel ice machine/laundry where I will shove the clothes washer back into place, say hi to the sickly looking praying mantis on the wall, and transfer the hopefully clean clothes and car seat cover to the dryer.

how i know i LOVE this job:

Even though my sweet hubby (bless his heart) wouldn't be caught dead in this hotel (it's what happens when you are used to traveling on expense--you can't blame him), and even though the car might carry some residual odor in the morning, and even though I feel like we are traveling gypsy's with our soiled clothes hanging out the windows and our pot of stew in the back (no kidding), I am grateful to have a place to wash up, grateful to have a place to strip that car seat down instead of having to wait several days, grateful I could give poor Joseph a warm bath and tuck him in a warm bed, grateful this hotel did, in fact, have a laundry (and free wi-fi, can't complain), and grateful I sit in a small, quiet room, and can look up and see my three--oops, make that four little babies, tucked snugly in a bed and fast asleep. And I know I wouldn't change this job for the world.

We need to buy expensive, not cheap. 'Cause expensive are much better. They don't break like cheap.--Matthew summer 2010

Mom, if you come you can see how good I am at shooting hoops. I haven't got one yet but I'm really close. --William, on going to play ball at the church, dec. 2010

Mom, I think I'm deaf in one ear. --Matthew, while listening to his head phones on the plane--one side didn't work. dec. 2010

Mom, that's too close to the edge.

It's okay, Joseph. It's a rental car. dec. 2010 Will and Joseph

The grown-ups can have the salad and the kids can have the pizza. Will dec. 2010 when Grandma B suggested we have pizza a salad for dinner.

I HATE pink. It is so not awesome. Joseph on having to wear a pink pull-up. dec. 2010

This To Shall Pass*

As of Friday, 3:00 p.m., I am one cent richer.

*thanks Steve

An Innitiation

Daddy and Amelia enjoy the aftermath of an evening shower

It's late in the evening. My boys are all bathed, read to, and tucked in. A relaxing time for me and the Little Miss. She rests asleep in my lap with flakes of dried milk around her pink mouth. And when I tickle them off with my finger nail she lets slip a dreamy grin.

Late night newborn feedings have always been a good excuse to enjoy another screening of Pride and Prejudice (the BBC version) and since it's been three and a half years since I did this with Joseph it was about due time anyway. Besides, I feel the best beginning I can give her is to introduce Mr. Darcy into her life--who doesn't love a little Mr. Darcy. So we have been watching 1/2 hour installments for several evenings now and tonight, Amelia and I, err, scratch that, Miss Elizabeth Bennett rather, will accept the first of what I hope will be many proposals by Mr. Darcy we share together.

Here's to introductions!

In other news:

Joseph swallowed a penny. I'm not sure exactly when, sometime after church on Sunday and before about 3:30 when I came downstairs after feeding Amelia and he casually told me "A penny went down my body, Mom." I wasn't sure what that meant--but my hopes of it dropping out the bottom of his shirt did not come to pass (and the penny hasn't yet either, for that matter).

I called up our resident General Surgeon. (We love him for many reasons, not the least of which being his profession--when raising a pack of man cubs a General Surgeon is a very helpful thing to have in ones back pocket.) He gave me some instructions and diet restrictions, and since then we have been "looking" for the penny so we know we're in the clear and can go back to regular food. I do hope it shows up soon though--I'm tired of sifting through the remnants--"ooh, look, gum!" Yes, very tired of it.

Hello Pink

Best Part Of This Weekend

*so so sorry I wasn't quick enough to grab a picture of this one*

Chris and the boys were wrestling. Chris got the better of Will by grabbing him by the waist, standing up, slinging him over his shoulders and holding him by the knees. Will was face down with his belly against Chris back. As Chris danced around proclaiming his victory, Will realized he was in a position to be the real winner and in a quick motion, raised up the bottom of Chris shirt, reached down, and yelled, "I'm giving Dad a monster weggie!"

*I was doing my best to avoid this moment, this moment when "weggie" entered a house full of boys. And now that it's here, I'm sure it's going to be the devil to exterminate.

This Boy

This is my first born.

My Matthew Moo

or Mister Silly.

My boy who I sent up to put away his Daddy's shoes, who didn't return for a long time.

But surprised me with a made bed and organized closet.

My boy who is the most reliable basement cleaner.

But who is also supremely distractable.

(which, his father reminds me, I cannot fault him for, as he is my child)

And when he doesn't return from a chore for a long time,

might be going the extra mile,

but could just as easily be found in the same state you left him.

Although with some fabulous discovery to tell you about.

"Mom, see this robot I am working on! It has a pincher arm, and a . . ."

And when I say in exhasperation, "Sweetheart, you still don't have your pajamas on?"

His replies, "But Mom, I was just thinking."

My boy who loves to make dinner.

And follow the recipe.

But also delights in dumping everything he can find in the blender and hitting "frappe".

My boy who dreams of flying to Mars,

or driving tanks,

or inventing magical robots,

or being the fastest chopping chef ever.

My most passive boy.

My boy who tries his best to be obedient and follow directions.

Though his curious mind often gets the better of him.

My boy who just moved to his own room.

And when I checked on him the first night found him sound asleep,

with the light on,

and a book under his heavily breathing chest.

My boy who is enamored with "my own" desk,

and loves to sit in his new private space and draw,

but still likes to sleep with me, and snuggle on my lap.

My boy who leads his brothers,

and includes them,

and watches out for them,

(when he remembers).

My boy who said, "Call 911!" (which I did)

during a frantic/hysterical 10 minutes when we thought his youngest brother was lost.

Only to be found sound asleep under a pile of blankets on the family room couch.

Thankfully before the police actually showed up. But not before I had given out his description.

My boy who said our family prayer that evening when the commotion had died down,

and after thanking our Father in Heaven that Joseph was found safe said,

speaking to his Heavenly Father,

"I want to say this about you. You and Jesus,

you are the wonderfullest people we have ever had to be our God."

And when I said my prayers that evening,

I thanked my God,

for him.

Let's Call It A Wash

The boys had skating lessons last night (the ice/hockey kind). It wasn't worth much.

It started when Matthew came home from school and seemed a little tired. Although we had friends over that he loves he sat on the couch curled in my lap (or what's left of it). He told me a little about his day while I rubbed his legs and teased his hair. When I got up to answer the door I returned to find him sound asleep. Then he had no appetite dinner so it was decided he wouldn't go to lessons--he still had to come with me poor kid, but he was just going to sit with me.

When we arrived at skating Joseph had fallen asleep in the car. I went around to his door, gently woke him up, unbuckled him from his car seat, and stood him up in the car. Then I went to retrieve the bag of gear out of the back only to hear a wail and find that Joseph, too sleepy to stand on his own, had fallen face first out of the car. The poor kid was laying head down on the black top with one foot still in the car. Ahhhhh. Luckily he had on his heavy coat with hood, thick gloves, and snow pants and received nary a scratch--can't believe his face didn't show something. Whew.

We pressed on.

We got in the building, grabbed our skates, and realized we had forgot our helmets--no problem, we just borrowed a couple from the skate rental desk. While I was kneeling in front of Will lacing his skates, he was anxious to get on the ice and tried to get up before I was done--I got a toe pick in the knee. Arrrr. Luckily it was my left knee, the right knee had already taken a solid hit earlier in the day from a hammer wielded by a three year old*. I sent Will onto the ice, and then fixed Joseph up. Matthew and I escorted Joseph to his class and then limped our way around the rink to sit and watch for our remaining 25 min. I sat down, said hello to some friends, and then scanned the ice for my own little students. Joseph was with his group, marching along behind orange safety cones, but I couldn't see any orange coat containing Will. After a couple glances around I was just about to tell Matthew to sit tight while I checked the bathrooms when I saw him sitting in the team box with his teacher, crying.

I hurried over. Will had taken a bad fall, and banged his head on the inside of his "too big" hockey helmet.

3 for 3.

His teacher, the main instructor, and another very nice man came over to check on him and assured me if he wanted to sit this one out he could come for a make-up on Thursday. When I mentioned I had another out sick they kindly said he could come too. Then the nice man went and arranged for all three boys to come on Thursday, Joseph would get an extra class (and he can use it). He also made sure I got some extra skate rental tickets to cover our make up class. Everyone was very kind--perhaps it was the lone parent, visibly protruding belly, and three injured children, but I was happy to accept their kindness and ever so grateful. By the time I finished consoling Will and worked out our Thursday return, Joseph's class was about over. I thanked everyone profusely, gathered my three boys, and kept them ever so close to me as we made our way back through the parking lot to the car.

We had one stop to make before heading home. Some friends are moving away to Boston and a little farewell party was happening. We arrived at the party, took in our treats, each of the boys had a little snack, and then got up to play. Ten seconds later I heard the sound of craniums colliding. William was unfazed but Matthew was in tears. I decided it was time to leave.

I hurried home and put everyone in bed before we all spontaneously combusted.

There wasn't much to do besides think of my dear Scarlet O'Hara and wish happy thoughts for the morning. Because "after all . . ."

Today has been okay so far, of course, I am sitting in a doctors office taking a 3 hour blood glucose test while my kids are at school and a neighbors, and I have no phone service. So who knows.

*Joseph and I were putting together some little go carts that needed a couple hits from a rubber mallet. I don't have a rubber mallet, (you?)so I did the "metal hammer over wood" technique. I had the cart balanced upside down between my knees with a long piece of wood laying over the wheels that needed pounding. I let Joseph pound the first wheel a then moved him to the second, "Great job Joseph but go a little easier so you don't hit my knee, okay." Wham--and not onto the wood, the kid has a good arm.

Weekend Harmony

Saturday Morning:

William and Daddy build a marble track, I worked on basting a quilt.

Matthew and Joseph build a couch cushion fort.

Saturday Afternoon:

Enjoying some sport with the Olympics

Sunday Music Time at Church:

I'm in charge of teaching music to the primary children. After showing several pictures of Christ and getting comments like "That's when Jesus was a baby," "That's when Jesus was crucified," and "That's when Jesus was resurrected,"--I held up this picture:

My own three year old hollers out from the front row:

"That's when Jesus was a butterfly!"

Thanks Weekend, it was splendid, can't wait to do it again.

So Very Sweet

The Stroopwafeln

I have mentioned these before. My aunt gave some to me. My hubby also brings them back from his adventures over seas whenever he can. They were the first of many European treats to find their way to my door, or mouth rather, due to his travels. For the first six months or so of last year he was spending a good amount of time in Paris. I know, Paris. But it wasn't all it was cracked up to be. He mostly went from airport, to train terminal, to small office room (although that office was located on the Champs D'lysses, had a balcony were one could ever so nicely watch the finale of the Tour de France, and had a personal chef that cooked hot lunch every day), but then it was quickly back to airport with little time to enjoy the local flavor. However, although I wasn't traveling with him, I got many a sweet deal out of these weekly departures.

This little box, for instance. It's a walnut, all prettily tied up.

And the inside was even prettier.

Little handmade chocolates

of every kind and design.

I kept this one hidden from the little ones

but Joseph got the better of me.

And all too soon it looked like this.

He managed to find my sweets in every new hiding spot.

Even my beloved French macaroons.

A crime to share with any toddler

(except he adores them just as much as any discerning adult

--seems to be developing his Daddy's foodie persuasion).

And again, this is what I am left with.

I don't think I have one picture of a box

with all its treasure accounted for.

Luckily these were the slightly lower status macaroons.

And not these beauties.

But they went so fast not even the lovely box was left.

Unfortunately, (for my soul, fortunate for my hips) the European trips have become less frequent and I am left with only my pretty boxes as remembrances.

Then, last Friday, my sweet hubby reminded me we have some excellent pastries right in our own back yard, or his back yard rather. (Chris' weekly travels cover an area thousands of miles bigger than mine.)

So when he arrived home late in the evening carrying this

I was beyond overjoyed.

I had been missing our Mike's

since we left Boston 5 years ago.

And here it was, on my own counter.

I opened it to reveal

Oh, oops, sorry, Reader. I meant to wait for you.

There was really good stuff in there.

I promise.

Lobster tails (the cream kind),

florentines,

cannoli's.

But again, it's hard to get a picture before diving in.

You understand, right?

I did save you a tiny bit.

(And that's more than Chris got one cold day in Boston, but that's a story for another time. He was kind enough to forget about it and still bring me some.)

I suppose I should have some conclusion to all this sweet talk. Something about being happy with what we have, or maybe something about home grown American goodness (albeit from the Italian district), but that all seems too serious for a post about so much cream. Or maybe it's just that I can't think straight anymore since I saw there is a smidgen of cannoli left in that box that needs to be eaten. Yup, I'm sure that's it. That means there's only one thing left to do. Gotta go. See ya . . .

Favor

This is my friend Christie and her family. I love her. And I love them. Of course, they don't look much like this anymore (the kids anyway). This was when we were all friends back in Boston. Now they look more like this.

But to the point. I owe Christie a lot. When the blond family that was my life line moved away Christie stepped in to fill the void and be my confidant, friend, sister, play-date buddy, and mentor. My oldest child is 9 months younger than her youngest for one thing and she stood by my side as I stepped into motherhood and coached me along the way. When my husband took a traveling job Christie taught me all the things that got her through single-parent weeks, the things that continue to get both of us through. She showed me you don't need a hubby around to repaint rooms, hang pictures, and deal with flooded basements (although I'm pretty sure her projects all turned out better than mine). She and her husband were our date night companions and Mike's pastry buddies.

Unfortunately, the traveling husband job that she prepared me for also took me away from her; I felt I had somehow betrayed our friendship by moving away but Christie was supportive as always.

I have always wanted to repay her but didn't know quite how I could. Then I read something on her blog. Christie had been doing some weekly service for a friend of hers but that friend was moving away and leaving a void she needed filled. (See, that's the kind of person Stie is, the favors she asks of people are to provide opportunities for her to serve you.) Now, I realize I'm a little late getting to it (Stie posted this plea back in march), but after much thought and discussion with the husband, I have decided that it's the least I can do after all you gave to me. So Christie, consider your favor granted. Mark your calendar for anytime after June and if you can find a way up here, I will provide you with your request to your hearts content.

And Stie, bring something pink.

Oh, Hello

Hi, Blog.

Oh, hello. And how are you?

Uh, good. How 'bout you?

Good. Just enjoying some more of these lovely fall leaves. Gorgeous colours [Blog likes to pretend it's British] this time of year, eh. Just brilliant.

Oh, um, yes. About those fall leaves, Blog. It's actually, um, it's actually a bit past fall now.

What do you mean a bit past fall. I thought you were out doing this

Well, we did do that, just not recently.

Do you mean while I've been holding up this birthday cake picture all the leaves have changed and fallen?

Well, yes. They have fallen. A while ago.

A while ago?!

Yes, sorry.

You mean it's almost winter?

It kind of IS winter. Now it looks less like this

and more like this

Dash it all! [again with the British thing, oy] So, how soon till Christmas?

Well, uh, I guess about 11 months now.

WHAT?!

Yes, we had Christmas, and Will's birthday.

I missed Will's birthday?

Again, sorry, and actually Matthew's too. Although I guess it was only a week or so ago so I can probably still get away with telling you about it, since I haven't been that prompt all along anyway.

I should say.

There was also a little vacation to California. And a visit from the best of friends (more about them tomorrow).

Sheesh.

And a trip to my Happy Land.

But I don't care how long ago that was, I'll still tell you about it, because it was brilliant.

I should hope so. I've never been to Happy Land.

I am sorry, Blog. I didn't mean to be gone so long. Things have just come up.

What things.

You know, little boys, California, Happy Land, church stuff, dishes. And then there's the laundry. Crimeny, the laundry.

Well . . .

I do apologize. Really. And I'll do my best not to be gone for so long again. Plus, I've got great stuff for you this week. You'll like it, I promise.

Hmmmm. Okay.

Okay?

Okay.

Okay. Good then. I'll see you soon?

Yes.

Okay.

Good night.

Good night. Here, I'll leave you with a little Christmas picture. It can't help but make you feel better. Put on a happy face, good night.

Repayed

Our Daddy was out of town for his birthday.  But when he got back his little boys had this waiting for him.  Matthew did all the decorating himself (except the lettering).  

I dyed the frosting per his request.  At first when he asked for "army green" I thought it might be a challenge, but then I thought of all my other coloring woes and remembered, army green has to be the easiest thing in the world to make, since that's the color I get every time I try to make something else fancy.

So I bagged up his frosting and away he went.  He worked long and hard, and Will helped with the occasional finger swipe.  Man was he proud when he finished. Chris was proud of him too.  And happy to be home.  So everyone got rewarded, for making cake or just for being a great boy.  They were well compensated.