{pretty, happy, funny, real}: Apr. 28

This is what I walked into Tuesday afternoon.

Not that it matters that it was Tuesday afternoon. It could have been any afternoon.

Or every afternoon.

Regardless (or irregardless - are you regarding less or not regarding less?), here it is. Warning: it's not pretty.

(Jonathan: "Lot of mess.")

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From last weekend

Library visit

Abraham (5), taken by Benjamin (9)

Last week I took the kids to the library.

This was the first time, to my recollection, that I have taken all eight kids to the library by myself. That doesn't *conclusively* mean that I have not done it before. It does mean I have blocked out any such memory.

Sometimes I do that.

It keeps me from killing my kids.

So anyway, we had the requisite "be quiet and stay by Mama" talk before we entered the building. The younger twins (14 mos.) were in the double stroller, and Jonathan (2) was holding onto the stroller with me. The other five were walking in a relatively orderly line.

We rushed in, and Ben (9) and Lily (7) headed to their sections to peruse books. I headed with the others to the little play area, which is bordered by picture books. The Older Littles started gathering books, and the Littler Littles played. (I really need other terms for them. How about "Nose Blowers" and "Nose Pickers"? Nah...too many crossovers. I'll have to think on this one.)

Confused yet? Why, yes, yes, I am. Thank you for asking.

Ben came over to me asking for help finding a book on making money. I pointed to the librarian (College Guy) and we headed over to ask.

"Excuse me," I said. "My son is looking for a book on how to make money."

"You mean like entrepreneurial opportunities?" he asked.

Ben quickly interjected. "No...more like ways I can make some money."

"Oh," the librarian said. "Like origami? Things you can make out of money?"

"Not quite," Ben said. "I need ... something to broaden my money limits."

*******************************
Let me just interject here. There. I've interjected.
*******************************

The end of this story is a disgruntled 9-yr. old in the "how to draw comic strips" aisle, scratching his head and muttering, "How am I supposed to make money with THIS?" The stroller babies were restless, so I hastily thrust my arm at the other end of the aisle and said, "THERE! There are baking books over there. You like baking! Grab some of those!"

So he did, and we checked out (all 99 books, and who on earth grabbed the Clifford and Dora and Spongebob and Barbie the Mermaid and Safety Council Guide to Strange Animals and the Queen of Christmas?).

We survived. The next day we feasted on Ben's Shortbread Cookies, which he very ably adapted from one of his baking books (COOKBOOKS! That's what they're called! Oh, for the life of me, that word has just been so evasive this morning!).

And I'm only a little worse for the wear.

Maybe I need a little something to broaden my mommy limits.

Gideon (14 mos.), taken by Benjamin (9)

{pretty, happy, funny, real}: Apr. 21

[photo credits: Miriam, age 5]

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Couch Potatoes

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Confession

I hate dyeing eggs.

I really, truly do.

I only mention this lest you think that trying to coordinate 6 kids' egg-decorating while 2 others are napping is not all it's cracked up to be.

You're right.

Although there was a lot of cracked, come to think of it.

It's messy. It's whiny. It's time-consuming.

And there are never enough eggs. And always too many.

The only upside to having dyed eggs today? It's a whole year before we have to do it again ((big sigh of relief)).

{pretty, happy, funny, real}: Apr. 14

Spring Dance


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