I’ve got to do this differently next year—nothing can ruin a sunny Saturday like getting 3 kids ready to spend hours at the mall to get pictures taken.  I didn’t put Wesley into his white shirt until we were ready to get in the car.  Then he picked his scab and bled all over his face, hand, and white shirt.  Sigh…

But look what we came home with!  (I do usually curate better than this, but I’ve got a lot of cute pictures of the kids.  Not so many of me.)

 

 

 

Between the sun, the new camera, and just the way kids dress, I got some pretty colorful shots today at the skate park, where we met some Kindergarten friends for lunch and play.

 

I distinctly remember my mother telling me that red and pink do not match, while I wore my pink shirt and red shorts as often as Mom would wash them.  Mom, I’m sorry.

Wes was in rare form today.  I began well, starting my day 5 minutes earlier than usual.  Which I immediately wasted by spending 2o minutes putting a nylon sock over our vacuum cleaner and suctioning toys out of Wesley’s vent today.  (Brilliant way of fishing for small items without having to go through the dirt bag later.) His preferred item to put down a sloped vent was, appropriately, cars.   Yep, things with wheels.  My right arm bears longs scratches from the jagged metal edges.  Wesley can now say, with a perfectly straight face, “I will not put anything down the vents.” 

This is what I pulled out of his air vent.

 

This is what he looked like as he was announcing his intention of traveling the straight and narrow path.  (The nasty cuts are from a spectacular bike crash at the skate park that actually cracked his indestructible bike just 15 hours earlier.  More later.  But he had already asked to go back to the skate park to try again.)

 

Then an after-lunch conversation we had.

Me: Wesley, where do we go poop?

Wesley:  In the potty!

Me:  Why did you poop on the sand box lid out on the back deck?

Wesley:  Uh, I just wanted to.

Me:  Where are you supposed to go poop?

Wesley:  In the potty!

 

Later, I had six yards of dirt delivered, which was like have a whole new play set brought right to our front yard. 

 

For some reason, Piper decided she needed roller skates and wood scraps to climb Everest.  Wesley saw the wood and raised her two badminton racquets.

 

You didn’t see this coming, did you?

Yep, down to their underwear.

 

And then I stopped taking pictures, because they got a hold the full water barrel and chaos really reared its head.  I literally hosed them down outside before carrying each child at arm’s length into the house and dropping each in the bathtub.

 

Wesley at 3:30 in the afternoon.

This girl has must have an extra shot of oxytocin.  She’s loves to hold babies (and hamsters and chicks and frogs and butterflies) and I think she got more time cuddling Baby C than I did.  Since when did I have to compete with my own child to hold a baby?

Last year, we made little bouquets of forget-me-nots for the entire neighborhood.

This year, ten minutes before we all needed to leave the house, the kids all made these for their teachers.   Well, it beats looting the streets on the first of May.

…But wish I would have.

(1) From my brother’s blog about a utility sink installation he was doing in their garage:

“How cheap can I make this project” turned into “how much do I have to spend in order to not call a plumber.”

I’d have to change “plumber” to “Papa Jim” but the sentiment is fully understood.

 

(2) From a blog on ParentMap, by Stephanie Olson.

If I am staying at home and I am a feminist, I had damn well better raise two boys who are kind and respectful and gentle in this world.

Again, I’d have to personalize it a bit:

If I am staying at home and I am a feminist, I had damn well better raise 3 kids who are kind and useful and pick their nose in private…and do it better than anyone I could have paid. 

How would you other Stay-at-Homes finish this thought? If I am staying at home and I am a feminist, I had damn well better raise ____ kids/boys/girls who are ________________________.

I have not gotten the old camera to work since that last fateful picture of us at the beach.  I can start blogging again, since I bought this little dandy off craigslist.  It’s faster, better, and—being used—cheaper than my old one.  And I haven’t let any kids touch it.

 

My first shots—isn’t fast enough to catch Kyla smiling?  In a darkened car?  Pass and PASS! 

We went to the Island for 6 days over Spring Break.  We made it to the beach Friday and then not again until Monday.  Over the weekend, the rope swing had been cut, quite high up, so it simply couldn’t be used.  My friend, Jen, found these pictures of the kids using it in mid-March.

 

Never fear, beach.  Dwayne and I have already bought a replacement rope and do0hickey.  I’m also looking to upgrade it with a disc swing—looking on craigslist right now!

 

Hey, Buddy, you smile a lot. Thanks.

 

I just love how pretty the death-defying trip down to the beach is.

I finally got Sus and her boys to join us for a weekend at the cabin—we were ecstatic! 

We went to the beach during the last hours of sun we would have for the weekend.

 

Can you believe Sus got that many pictures before the kids started stripping?

 

These two were the first to shuck and dip.  A group of teen girls had a good laugh at Wesley streaking down the beach and me yelling after him, “Put your underwear back on—keep the sand out!”

Installing an outdoor shower at the cabin is on the top 10 list….

 

You can’t read to just one of them.

 

Thanks for the great pictures, Susanne, during my camera drought!

Six days at the cabin. Three friends and 4 kid friends.  Three sunny days.  It was one of the best times on Whidbey yet.

 

I always think I’m overpacking for the cabin, but at the end of almost every day, I have a full load of laundry to do (shake sand out first) and the kids all seem to be down to their last clean, intact pair of pants.  This is Piper’s second (of three) outfits and it’s only noon,

 

And another thing to add to the list of Things That Make Me Wet My Pants:  Runny up the skate park and vaulting over the top.  (Laughing and sneezing generally top the list.)

 

There are so many things to do at a skate park when you don’t have wheels. 

1) Rip your pants.  (Kyla)

2) Rip your pants. (Piper)

3) Rip your pants. (Wesley)

4) Wet your pants. (Anonymous)

 

This girl knows how to enjoy herself.  If only she had a cold root beer in that hand.

 

Again, this child just needs a beach and some shells to keep her busy for a long, long time. Four hours, in fact, as long as I feed her occasionally.

 

This is worth preserving, simply because Wes is still wearing his clothes.  While near water.  (Hint: it won’t last.)

 

Tyler didn’t have to convince Wesley too much of the Greatness of Construction Trucks at the beach.

 

Cutie!

One of the many, many times Wes stripped down to his skivvies over the week we were on Whidbey.  I’m actually going to buy him boxers next week to be slightly more socially acceptable.  If 3-year olds can ever be socially acceptable.

 

Piper: You know what would be a really, really good idea?  Using these old trucks as roller skates to go down this sand pile!

 

Wesley:  I am so in!  I don’t have pants or shoes on, so I’m set.
Wesley: I’m down. 

Wesley: That was fun!

 

Tyler:  What could go wrong?

 

Piper decides to fall on her face this time instead of her bum again.  She really likes to mix stunts up!

 

The last picture possibly to ever be taken on my camera.  Piper snapped some shots of Wes falling asleep on me.  The camera hasn’t worked since.