Frozen Bananas

Curious Buster

Megan — Sun, 05 Feb 2012 15:48:41 GMT

My son thinks he's a monkey. And probably, for all intents and purposes he's right. It took me awhile to notice, but now it is making me crazy.

He has a morning routine that we hardly ever deviate from because it can totally ruin our day if we do. He will usually wake up around 7 and start loudly declaring "Alup" (I'm up). The next thing he will do is turn on all the kitchen lights. If I already have them on, he'll turn them all off and then back on again. Then we make his chocolatemilk (it's Carnation, for anyone out there judging me) and he sits down to watch Curious George.

I didn't notice what was happening until one day I was sitting at the computer and I heard a series of high-pitched grunts. I wondered, who had turned on the television? And I turned around to find just Buster sitting on the floor playing with his trucks. He had sounded exactly like that dang cartoon monkey. Over the next few days I began to notice it more and more. Sometimes we would have entire conversations where he wouldn't even attempt to speak. He would just motion and "uh, uh, uh". (Thankfully I've seen a lot of Curious George and I grew up with three brothers so I understand enough 'monkey' to get by.) Also, the whole monkey transformation idea begins to hold more water as I watch the boy climb on and jump off every piece of furniture we own.

Making Their Presence Known

Megan — Sun, 29 Jan 2012 15:43:33 GMT

Everyday, all day, I feel like I'm cleaning up messes. I'm not sure how the kids do it, but they have an internal radar that tells them when I've just finished cleaning a room in the house. It can be any room - the front room, their bedroom, the kitchen, even the bathroom - and they will pack up boxes of toys and then dump them in my clean room. Sometimes they don't even play with them. I have my own theory that (not unlike dogs) they are marking their territory. But really, if someone were to come into our house and not know that we had kids, then that person would have to blind and deaf and in a coma.

And Buster is the best at this game. He loves to dump things out for no particular reason. The other day, I hosted a church group of nine year-olds and we made sock snowmen. I had to promise Little H that we could make one afterwards so she would stay out of our way. She was so cute designing all the different parts, and I was busy with the glue gun keeping up with her requests. I could hear Buster, but I wasn't paying attention to what he was doing until Little H ominously said "Uh, oh." There was rice, paint, sparkles, ribbon and other stuff I didn't even know we had out strewn all over Buster, the table, the chairs, and the floor. (Luckily the camera was nearby so I thought to take a picture before I put him in timeout. Poor kid probably wouldn't be smiling if he had known what was coming next.)

New Parents

Megan — Mon, 23 Jan 2012 05:37:20 GMT

My brother and his wife just had their first baby this past week. He is an adorable, brown-eyed, tiny, sweet baby boy. My brother is just over the moon with his new baby. I can tell because I've seen several opportunities for him to make snide remarks or sarcastic comments, and he let's them pass without even making a face.

Watching my brother and sister-in-law with their new baby has reminded me of what it felt like to be a new parent. Sleeping with my hand in the bassinet so I can feel her breathing, watching her sleep for hours at a time because I thought it was the only thing keeping her alive while the housework caved in around me, letting others hold her but suffering a silent panic attack every time she whimpered in their arms. At the same time trying to deal with an overwhelming surge of love for this tiny human being who, at least in the beginning, only cares that you keep her comfortable and fed. It was the first time I understood the meaning of unconditional love. Such a wonderful and scary time of life.

I'm very proud of these kids (yes I still think of them as kids). They are going to do a great job. There are some men in this world who are okay without raising kids of their own, some who have the title of 'dad' thrust upon them, some who learn as they go and end up doing a great job, and some who just go through the motions. But then there are some men in this world who were just meant to be dads, and I've always thought that to be the case for all my brothers. Even as teenagers they were great with younger children. As they got older, they all made wonderful uncles to my and my sister's kids. And now that they all have kids of their own, I've been able to see how they all have fit into the role of 'dad' like it was a comfortable mold. Something I'm sure they all learned from our own dad.

Little Girl, Huge Anxiety

Megan — Sun, 15 Jan 2012 04:08:18 GMT

Little H has been going through some stuff lately. It started back in December, and I just blamed the excitement over the holidays. I incorrectly thought she would go back to normal after Christmas. She is having a hard time going to bed without sobbing over something every night. Plus, she cries any time we are separated for some reason. She goes to preschool, she cries. I go to a church meeting, she cries. I go downstairs to work in my dungeon when Dan gets home, she cries. And it's not just when I leave or she goes to bed. No, she will start crying spontaneously over the most ridiculous things. Here's how one of our conversations went the other day:

Little H: Mom, I have a secret.

Me: What is it, hon?

Little H (tears welling up in her eyes): You know how sometimes people tease me about having a crush on Justin Bieber?

Me: Sure.

Little H (tears streaming down her face): I think I really do. And I just want to cry about it.

Me: Okay, that's fine. Why does it make you cry?

Little H (sobbing at this point): Because I kept it a secret, and I didn't tell you right away.

But it's not just Bieber who has her crying. Oh no, she is crying over crushes on her preschool teacher's son, two kids in her preschool class, her cousin's cousin (no blood relation), some kids she saw in church, and her uncle (definitely a blood relation) to name a few. It's so weird. Plus she's always needing reassurances that we won't be the victims of a tornado or volcano. Thank goodness she hasn't learned about earthquakes, yet. She couldn't sleep one night last week because she overheard a conversation between Dan and I about a cousin of mine who was in the hospital. I have always tried to be open and honest with her when she has questions, but lately I feel like I want to lie to her if the truth doesn't paint the world in rainbows and sunshine. Somehow my baby girl has taken on the weight of the world, and I don't know exactly how to lift it off her shoulders. I hate thinking there is something I should have done to prevent it. I've even wondered if a pediatric therapist might help. One day at a time, though, right?

A Brand New Year

Megan — Sun, 08 Jan 2012 20:45:23 GMT

I don't know how 2011 passed my by so quickly. I don't usually make resolutions, but I decided to give it a try this year. The problem is that I've come up with a list about a foot long of things I'd like to work on. I should probably narrow it down, but I'm not sure how. Losing weight, having a regular family night, finishing Buster's baby book, keep up with this blog (ha, ha) etc. They all seem so important. So for now I'll just try to do them all until I burn out by the end of January.

We brought in the New Year quietly at home with the family this year. My parents, sisters, and my sister's family came by, which was really fun. Our neighbors were nice enough to set off fireworks at 10:30 so the kids were actually able to see some of the celebration before we made them go to bed.

2011, I'll remember you as the year I lost my Grandma H. (for now, at least), the year I gained three beautiful new nieces, and the year I attempted to grow my hair out (an experiment still in process), among many, many other great and sometimes not-so-great things. Although, I'm sure we'll still be seeing each other intermittently until I can get used to writing 2012, so long 2011!

Christmas 2011

Megan — Mon, 02 Jan 2012 03:11:18 GMT

December started out with a horrendous storm in Northern Utah with 100 mph winds that tore down signs, ripped out trees, and knocked out power for 50,000 homes and also completely messed up the Christmas lights I had just put up.

Every year I tell myself I'm going to get all the hard stuff out of the way so I can just enjoy all of December, and every year I don't. At least I'm consistent that way. It is a lot of fun with the kids, though, and I love how magical this time of year is for them. We got to go up to Washington and spend Christmas with the Dan's parents this year. It was really nice. The kids love being able to spend time with their grandparents, and Dan and I always enjoy being able hang out with them without being held back by time constraints, work, and all the other complications that can get in the way. If you really want to know how Christmas felt for me, all you would need to do is post these pictures up all over the room and then spin in circles until you collapse satisfied and exhausted into a pool of your own sweat.

Flying Fairy Ball

Megan — Sun, 04 Dec 2011 23:39:10 GMT

Yesterday my kids were fighting over a bouncy ball. Being the proactive mother that I am, I decided to interject after about a half hour. Assessing the situation, it appeared that Buster wasn't fetching the ball up to Little H's standards. I told her that she needed to give Buster the ball since it belonged to him. She decided to not just give it to him but actually launch it at his head. Fortunately she 'throws like a girl' and it landed beside him on the couch. Buster, having no idea that the ball was meant to incapacitate him, laughed and threw it back to her. Little H got into the game, and they ended up throwing the ball back and forth for the next fifteen minutes. She called me back into the room after about five minutes to witness the two of them getting along:

Little H: I think Buster and I just invented a new game.

Me: Wow! Maybe you should call it 'catch'.

Little H: Why would we call it that?

Me: You're right, that was a bad idea. What are you going to call it?

Little H: I think 'Flying Fairy' because the ball flies through the air.

This "new" game has actually been keeping the kids happy for a few days now. Why had I not thought of this before?

Halloween 2011

Megan — Sun, 13 Nov 2011 23:14:30 GMT

Halloween is absolutely my most favorite holiday. Or at least tied for first with the 4th of July. This year, when I started planning costumes two months in advance, Little H told me that she wanted to be Candace from the Disney cartoon Phineas and Ferb. This being one of the few cartoons that I really like to watch with the kids, I was pretty happy. Plus I could pick a costume for Buster that could go along the same Phineas and Ferb theme. As easy as it was to put a costume together for Little H, finding a Platypus costume for Buster proved rather difficult. Eventually I found a pattern for a crocheted hat that I thought would work. The only problem was that I didn't know how to crochet...

So I called my grandma and asked her to teach me. No problem. I am very confident in my abilities and knew I could learn to crochet in just a couple hours. My grandma is ambidextrous when it comes to crocheting so she's one of the few people I knew that would be able to teach me left-handed. The lesson was very eye-opening and made my hands hurt. It also made me realize that I was going to need to spend every spare moment working on this hat. But I took my needles and yarn (I had bought the wrong kind on my first attempt) and continued to work at home. It was a necessary part of the costume. Without it, people would be thinking "did that little boy just get back from the gym?" according to Little H.

Four days later, I got an e-mail from my grandma telling me she had made the hat and was almost done. She was letting me know that I could stop for now, and she also mentioned that she would probably start me out on a dishrag instead of a hat. I swear I wasn't slow and physically challenged on purpose to get my grandma to make the hat, but I also wasn't completely surprised that she made it. She's just that kind of person.

Only Thirteen Years To Go

Megan — Sun, 30 Oct 2011 03:29:10 GMT

I have a mental countdown going on because I'm pretty sure that as soon as my girl turns eighteen, she'll leave us in the dust. It's not just a hunch, either. She used to tell me all the time that she was going to move out as soon as she was old enough. Some of those times I would silently agree and tell myself that I would gladly pack her bags when the time came. Lately, though, it seems that she is so pleasant and sweet. I don't ever want her to leave me. I'm not sure if her personality is subconsciously becoming more agreeable to counteract her brother, who is becoming a little misfit hellion, or if she is just growing out of her craziness, but it has been so nice.

And the five years has just flown by. It seems like Dan and I were just barely at the hospital staring at this tiny little dependent alien creature. I remember being scared to death and overwhelmed with happiness all at the same time. Anyone who knows me was probably justifiably concerned about what kind of mother I would make. And five years later, judging by the result, I must say, I've raised exactly the kind of kid I would love to have. Either that, or God knew just the right kind person to send that would fit in perfectly with our family.

She's smart, beautiful, sarcastic and sweet. She's a great big sister/second mother to Buster. Despite my best efforts to the contrary, she loves princesses and wants to be a cheerleader. As a concession, she's told me that although she doesn't want to play soccer, she will cheer at the soccer games. She still likes to cuddle sometimes. She's super-creative can keep herself occupied for hours with just some crayons, paper, and scissors. I could just kiss her face off every time I see her. In spite of her feminine characteristics, she loves to wrestle and tells just about everyone that she knows karate. Oh, I love that girl. More and more every day. My only dilemma is that I'm not sure how much longer I'll still be able to call her Little H.

Let the Memories Begin

Megan — Sun, 02 Oct 2011 21:57:02 GMT

Dan and I have been talking about going to Disneyland for a little while now. The kids have developed an unhealthy fascination with the over-commercialized cartoon characters - with Little H's love of the princesses (despite my best efforts to push her in the opposite direction), and Buster knowing all the names of Mickey and his friends and preferring the Mickey Mouse Clubhouse song to any traditional lullaby at bedtime. So really, what better way to exhibit excellent parenting skills than to feed their obsessions, right? And on a more selfish note, I've never been before, either.

Dan had a conference in Las Vegas at the beginning of the week, so the kids and I tagged along. It made the perfect cover in surprising the kids with a trip to the Magic Kingdom. It really is quite the place. Each day seemed like a whirlwind, and each night we all passed out in our filthy clothes, too tired to move. (Sleeping in our clothes actually worked in our favor, since the hotel turned out to be lacking a laundry room.)

On the first day, we accidentally put Little H on a roller coaster. How were we supposed to know that Thunder Mountain might be a little scary? It looked like a train ride, and she met the height requirements, plus Dan went with her. It kind of set the tone for the rest of the trip as far as what rides she was willing to go on. Not too high, and not to fast... It seemed that meeting the characters was her favorite part, anyway.

There was so much to do there. I don't think it can be covered in three days. Plus it was super-crowded on Friday and Saturday. At one point, when I was holding Little H's hand in a huge crowd of people, I looked down to see her wiping her face on my shirt. I said, "Gross, are you wiping your nose on my shirt?" She motioned me closer to her and seriously whispered, "I'm not wiping my nose. It's just that my face accidentally ran into that lady's butt." I'm so glad I don't have to worry about that. What an unfortunate height.

As an added bonus, we got to spend some time with the kids' California cousins and Washington grandparents, and I think they enjoyed that even more than Disneyland. On Saturday morning, John and Kelsi took us out to Balboa where we bought overpriced taffy made in SLC and found the home of the 'original' Frozen Banana. Arrested Development doesn't do the area justice. It was a very nice place.

Overall, my favorite part of Disneyland was dinner in Goofy's kitchen. Little H got to meet a couple princesses, Buster fell in love with Pluto, and Dan and I got to sit down. The trip was great, and we hope to go again sometime, like when we won't need to bring a stroller and the kids are tall enough to go on the bigger rides. That will probably give us just enough time to recover.

They're about to pass me up...

Megan — Mon, 12 Sep 2011 05:40:58 GMT

Little H started preschool last week. I know a lot of people keep their kids home until kindergarten, but those people probably have more to teach their kids than I do. I've about maxed out everything I know with Little H, and I've lately resorted to making things up. It's funny to me, but it's not so funny when she repeats things I've told her to others and gives me full credit. Like a month ago when she told my brother (who's a twin) that I told her he only has half a brain because twins have to share. Or the time she asked Dan's parents about wearing grass skirts because I had told her that everyone who lives in Hawaii has to wear them all the time. And I don't bother to correct her when she comes up with funny theories on her own. Like the time she told me that she had a dead itch on her forehead that she needed to wash off because it had started on her nose, jumped to her cheek and finally landed on her forehead where she was able to scratch it to death. Or the time she asked me if grandma (my mom) was scared when she was a little girl because of all the big dinosaurs.

I feel like my kids are here for my entertainment until they get older; after that, they are here to support me in my old age. And that is the reason I want them be smarter than me. Which some how has happened sooner than I'd anticipated. And in spite of Little H already assuming she knows everything, I think there may be a little more to learn beyond counting to ten in Spanish and knowing how to write out her name in all caps. Maybe not, though. We'll see.

In the meantime, Buster is also starting to make such great progress. Especially with the words he's been learning. After we got past that strange stage when he thought his name was 'Diaper', and then 'You', and then said 'Welcome' instead of 'Thank you' for a couple months, his vocabulary started taking off. Also he's very good at identifying his colors (except for 'green' which seems to be the default color when he's not really sure). That means I've about maxed out my vast knowledge with him, too. As soon as I can get him potty-trained and counting to twenty, I'll have done all I can do.

The End of Summer

Megan — Fri, 02 Sep 2011 14:45:33 GMT

So I survived my first summer being home with the kids. (Not entirely full-time I guess because I do have a small reprieve working in the basement.) The summer was something I was looking forward to with excitement and dread. Last year my little sister watched the kids the majority of the day while Dan and I worked, and they had a blast. I, on the other hand, am not nearly as fun and creative as their aunt Bailee. I hate to admit it, but a lot of the things that I planned, I did more out of obligation to the kids rather than thinking it would be fun for me.

I had to make a special effort to get out of the house (especially when it was so hot) to go swimming and to the park and to wherever else we went. I think we did alright for the most part. We have gotten into the bad habit of turning on the t.v. when we first wake up, but it's PBS so it's basically like school. With Little H starting preschool next week, I can't help but be a little sad that summer's over, though.

In addition to losing summer, one of my best, long-time friends just moved out of state this week. Not so far that we can't visit, but a lot further than she used to be. Our friendship has already survived the period Dan and I lived in Washington, so I'm not too worried, just a little sad. I guess our daily phone calls will just have to last a little longer. Before she left, we were able to take our kids to the zoo together one last time...for the summer, I mean. (That sounded awfully foreboding -- I'm sure we'll go to the zoo together again. Like next year. When her husband gets a lucrative job offer in Utah. Because I'm using the power of positive thinking to get her back.)

Road Trip

Megan — Sat, 13 Aug 2011 14:08:37 GMT

We had a whirlwind week in July where we spent the first half with my family up in Island Park, and the second half driving up through South Dakota to visit some of Dan's old haunts. All in all, the kids spent a lot of time in the car. Thank goodness for modern day technology that has given us portable DVD Players, and even once Dramamine. I have no idea how the pioneers did it - I probably would have left the kids home.

Even will all the cool things we were able to see and do, my favorite moment was when we got to the hotel on the second leg of the road trip after hours and hours in the car. After we'd finished lugging in our suitcases, I came around the corner to find Little H stripped down to her skivvies helping Buster take his shirt off. She was telling him that, "There's nothing more fun to do in a hotel than jump on the bed in your underwear." And I must admit, it did look like a lot of fun.

Seeing the Dinosaurs

Megan — Mon, 11 Jul 2011 05:36:46 GMT

Dan took the 5th of July off last week knowing that we would need to recover after staying up past 10 to watch fireworks. (I mean we're not teenagers anymore.) It was nice to have a random day off in the middle of the week with Dan so we decided to take the kids to the Dinosaur Park in Ogden, where I neglected to take any actual pictures of dinosaurs. Buster yelped like a girl through the entire museum, completely taken aback by the giant statues, and Little H played tour guide. I was surprised at how much she actually knew about dinosaurs. She could pronounce the names and everything - thank you PBS. Although I've always wondered about Dinosaur Train and why they never address the fact that Buddy (the Tyrannosaurus) will probably want to eat his adopted family (the Pteranodons) when he gets a little older.

Traumatizing Swim Lessons

Megan — Sun, 03 Jul 2011 05:58:00 GMT

There was a time when I would complain about Little H not being scared of anything. I used to worry about her hurting herself just because she would show no fear when it came to just about everything. But lately, she's become a bundle of nerves about just about everything. She watched some of the recent tornado devastation on The Weather Channel with Dan, and started asking us about tornadoes in Utah. At first I thought she was just being curious so of course I proudly told her about how I had witnessed the only tornado ever in Salt Lake. Then the follow up questions started: Did anyone die? Can a tornado pick up a human?, etc. Crimony.

Her other anxiety attacks include, but aren't limited to: Buster drowning in a river, ants crawling on her feet, me or Dan dying, and her grandparents getting older. I know I went through a similar phase as a kid, but I was several years older. I used to plan out scenarios in my mind about how I would run out the back fence of the school and to my house so I could help my mom carry all the smaller children up the mountain so we all wouldn't drown when all the dams broke as a result of the major earthquake. And then, I would usually end up sobbing to my parents at late hours of the night. Since that time, I've learned to channel my neuroticism into other venues which usually involve me trying to control the lives of those close to me and obsessively organizing my kids' toys into bins by category, you know healthy hobbies.

Swim lessons for Little H had been a lot of fun until halfway through when the teacher introduced "the bob" where she had to put her whole face under water. It was just awful for her. She only went all the way under twice more before she refused to do it anymore. I've tried to get her to practice in the bathroom, but the fear seems to be getting worse and worse. Tonight in the bathtub she had a major breakdown when I just suggested we try. She was sobbing and sobbing. Of course I didn't make her, but I'd really like her to move on to the next level of swim lessons, and I'm afraid we'll never get to that point. I don't want her to panic, but I also don't want her to regress. I guess I'll just back off for a little bit and see what happens. In the meantime, she still loves to put on her swimsuit and participate in any water activities that don't involve her face being submerged, so that counts for something, I guess.

Forcing a Friendship

Megan — Mon, 20 Jun 2011 14:29:00 GMT

My kids are driving me nuts. They fight constantly, and I'm not sure why. I can't blame it on just one of them, because they both like to tease each other to the point of tears. I think it's worse now that Little H is out of preschool for the summer, and they spend an extra long time with each other all day long. Ironically, the lesson I taught in church yesterday posed the question, "How can you encourage friendship between your children?"

I was totally stumped, but I asked the question anyway, (reminding me of a quip in To Kill a Mockingbird, where Atticus advises his kids to never ask a question they didn't already know the answer to) and bravely waited for a response. To my delight, I got some great advice that I feel like I should write down before I forget it.

1) Encourage them to work and serve for each other and with each other. (i.e. clean up one room at a time together and move onto the next one together.)

2) Go to games, recitals, events, etc. as a family so the children are accustomed to cheering and supporting each other.

3) At family prayer, have everyone in the family mention something they are concerned with and then the individual saying the prayer should include everyone's concerns. This makes them more aware of each other's problems and not so self-involved.

I know my kids are pretty young, but I really want them to be close. I fought a lot with my brothers and sisters growing up, and I know a lot of it was my own fault because I was so bossy and controlling (probably still am). But as an adult, I really love an appreciate them. I want my kids to realize sooner rather than later how much they should mean to each other.

Nightmare

Megan — Sun, 12 Jun 2011 21:29:30 GMT

A few nights ago I had an awful dream that Dan decided that he didn't wanted to be married anymore. It wasn't one of those dreams where he cheats on me and I wake up angry and can't speak to him for several hours, but in this dream he just wanted to go back to being a bachelor. He sat me down and told me that he didn't love me anymore, but he would continue to be a good father to our kids. In the dream, I just cried and cried. Dan had told me he'd filed divorce papers already, but he'd keep living in the house for the next couple weeks until it was final and he could find a place of his own. So every day I'd work really hard to keep the house clean and make dinners that he liked, hoping he'd change his mind. Like a crazy desperate person.

It was such a relief to wake up and realize that it had all been a dream. But I haven't been able to get it out of my head. I hadn't felt that insecure since my single days of dating. It's made me realize all over again just how lucky I am to have Dan. He has never (dreams excluded) made me feel like he doesn't love me. Even though we have a list of things we completely disagree about, I know that those things don't change how we feel about each other. And if I hadn't had my heart broken in the past, I wouldn't have been able to refine the list of qualities I was looking for in a husband. He's intelligent, helpful, protective, thoughtful, etc. He's a better cook than I am, and he does the dishes and vacuums more often than I do. When I'm stressed he always asks what he can do to help. He loves the kids and doesn't call it 'baby-sitting' when he has them on his own. He makes me feel attractive and tells me I'm a good mother. He puts up with my neuroses, and he likes my family. He's funny and thinks I'm funny, too. He's a gentleman but not in a condescending way (his mom raised him right). He's fun to hang out with and is truly my best friend. It's a little too early for this to be a Father's Day tribute, but I need him to know how much I love him, and I'm not really good at telling him on a regular basis. I'm much better at putting it on the Internet for a bunch of strangers to read.

National Doughnut Day

Megan — Mon, 06 Jun 2011 04:41:00 GMT

Now that we're officially done with preschool and organized playgroups for the summer, I could really easily fail as a parent and let my kids watch television and play on the Wii and computer all summer. Really easily.

And since I brought it up, I have to confess that I think 'screen time' gets an awful rap. My daughter has learned a lot from PBS--on t.v. and online, things that I would never have thought to teach her and things that I didn't even know. I mean, I had no idea that Monarch butterflies were poisonous and "that if a predator ever dares to eat one once, he won't do it again because it will make him sick or dead" until Little H told me one day on the way to Costco. In addition to learning so much, it distracts the kids long enough for me to clean an entire room without them following me into said room and dumping out a bin of barbies/cars/Little People/Littlest Pets or building a fort. I hate forts so much. None of my couches ever have throw pillows on them any more, and I can't keep a blanket clean to save my life. To make matters worse, Little H always wants me to help build the forts, so its a double-whammy. Like asking me to dump crumbs on the floor I just vacuumed or spit on the dishes I just washed.

So anyway, I've decided that at least one day during the week this summer, I'll dedicate the entire day to the kids. No cleaning and minimal cooking. How is that different from any other day, you may be asking yourself. Well, I will actively for several hours at a time, do things the kids think are fun. Even if I disagree with their opinion because I'm old and and boring.

This last Friday was the first day and we started out by going to a bounce house play area. I was kicking myself for forgetting the camera because they were so cute. Little H kept screaming "Best day ever!" as she ran from giant blow up house to giant blow up house. Buster is a little too young to run crazy by himself, so I got to bounce around with him. It was actually fun for the first 30 minutes, but by the time we hit 2 hours, I had reached my limit. Thankfully I was able to talk them into going to lunch and we were able to sneak Dan away from work to join us. Lastly, we hit up Krispy Kreme for a free doughnut in celebration of National Doughnut Day. When we got in there, the line was long, and I decided I needed to buy something because I would feel guilty for just walking out with three doughnuts and not spending anything (a trait you can blame on my mother). While reaching for my wallet, I discovered my camera in my purse, where I had put it so that I wouldn't forget it when we went to the bounce house. So at least the day didn't go completely undocumented.

Oh, and I just need to mention it because I don't want to forget: We had steak for dinner tonight and as we were eating, Little H asked, "So does this meat come from a deer or an elk?" Dan told her that it came from a cow and she said, "That's funny, why doesn't it taste like milk?"

Buster's Summer Haircut

Megan — Sun, 29 May 2011 22:36:00 GMT

Little H has been chomping at the bit to cut something. Mostly she wants to cut hair, but I think she'd be willing to find a substitute if necessary. The last couple weeks she's been asking to cut my hair or her hair or Dan's hair or Buster's hair or Casey-the-dog's hair, incessantly. Dan has also been dropping some major hints that Buster needs his haircut, too. At least I think that's what he's been getting at by combing my son's hair like a serial killer after bath time.

So, since I'm all about making everyone happy, and Buster doesn't really get a say until he can talk a little more, I came up with a master plan. I let little H take the scissors to Buster's hair a few hours before we went to my mom's to shave his head for the second time in his life.

Last time we shaved his head, I was sad about losing his curls. Since they've never come back, I've decided to not get too sentimental about his haircuts as you can probably tell.

We've Got Ants

Megan — Sat, 21 May 2011 01:57:00 GMT

Well, we did have ants. I probably shouldn't admit it because it makes us sound like gross people, but every spring we get them near the front door. (And every year they're gone within a couple days, I swear.) This time Little H happened to be the one who discovered them and she completely freaked. She ran upstairs onto her bed on the top bunk and refused to walk on the carpet for the rest of the evening. Dan and I had to carry her everywhere.

The next morning I was watching the little buggers walk in and out through the ant traps bringing the poison home to their friends when Little H came creeping into the room. (I've always been fascinated with ants and could probably watch them for hours. I don't want them in my house, but I feel a little guilty if I happen to kill one outside.) Before I knew it, she was hunched over them with me. Then we discovered we could see inside the traps if we had a flashlight. Then she started saying, "Oh cute, they ran into each other," and "Look how big that piece of food is". It was pretty funny. I caught her several more times engrossed in the ants' lives.

When Buster went down for a nap, I suddenly remembered that we had some Ortho Home Defense in the garage so I massacred the tiny creatures in a matter of seconds. I think Little H was a little sad to see them go. But if nothing else, I hope I broke her of that weird fear of ants. I'm not raising a sissy, for crying out loud. And please don't think we're gross.