Catching up… June

I know, I know… it’s almost August, but we’ve had quite the busy summer so I’m backtracking a bit to catch up.  Because I don’t want to forget it all.

Strawberry picking at a local farm, from which I made a nice supply of freezer jam –

Celebrating our guy for Father’s Day!

I found this super-cool bottle opener, made from a St. Louis Cardinals game bat.  Sure beats the one that plays the Mizzou fight song, that I gave him many years ago as a peace-offering, if I remember correctly.

The girls and I also made some fun bag tags, for our traveling man.

The girls got big haircuts, courtesy of Aunt Julie… four inches cut off for C and EIGHT inches for M!  We had to talk this one up for awhile with M before she would agree to it.

Before…

Could C look any more like her Daddy here?!

But she’s a curly girl, just like her mama!

Now for M’s turn…

Bye-bye major length!

Another curly girl!

And finally, after!

Some random shots of the ins and outs of our days…

My favorite way to start my day – lying in bed, feeling and seeing Baby Boy wake up with me:

I saw this sticker on the back of a car somewhere while I was out and about it left me with the giggles all. day. long!

This is what happens when we play “let’s fix Mommy’s hair!”

Um, who’s been sleeping in my bed?

M finally graduated to “big kid” toothpaste!  Who knew it would take so long for this child to learn to spit?!

The girls had their first movie theatre experience when we took them to see Monsters University.  We also spent a fun night at the Muny watching Shrek the musical, with a little helping of goofiness at dinner just before.

A great first month of summer back in the ‘Lou!

Dinnertime battles, with a side of junior high humor

Dinnertime with my girls is probably one of the most continuously stressful times of my day.  C is a very picky eater (texture-related), but both girls also randomly decide to dislike (and on the odd occasion, like) something that they’ve previously eaten (or turned their noses up at) over and over again.  A preschooler’s prerogative to change their mind?  I suppose.  They’ve recently decided that no matter how I make homemade mac & cheese, it just ain’t flyin’.  They only like the package stuff (Annie’s brand – that’s not too bad, is it?) or restaurant mac & cheese, which I know is full of that processed velveeta cheese stuff.  Now, I grew up on that processed velveeta stuff and I turned out just fine, but it’s just not something that gets added to my grocery list.  On the flip side, M and C have also very recently decided that my roasted broccoli is the first thing that they want to devour, with their hands, from their plates.  Score!  But oh rhyme and reason, where art thou?

I grow VERY bored VERY quickly with the same old dinner options, and I truly despise the short-order-cook syndrome that rears its ugly head around my kitchen from time to time, as I prepare a main meal and then a small backup (PB&J) in the event that M and C refuse whatever new meal I’ve introduced.  It all adds up to an exercise in frustration and fighting off tears of defeat more often than not.

Amidst the dinner battles though there has always been one beloved constant that has never gone out of style – yogurt.  We typically have a variety of flavors to choose from, vanilla being a big favorite.  M is struggling a bit with the “v” sound, which comes out as a ‘b’ (i.e., ‘banilla’), so we try to work with her on other words beginning with the letter v – valentine, Vicki, violet.  You get the idea.  So what word do you think the Hubs suggests that M try to sound out?

‘Vicious’.

Yup, sound that one out with a ‘B’ up front and you’ll get where I’m going with this.

And just like that my husband reverted to his junior high self, big glasses and all, to provide some well needed adult comic relief to the madness of our dinner hour.  Oh how I adore that man of mine!

Destruction… milestones… and The Best Chocolate Bundt Cake Ever

So the ‘every-so-often’ non-napping day has turned into the ‘rarely do my daughters nap at all’ day.  They’ve taken to some rather interesting antics whilst confined to their room for a couple of hours of “rest”.  I walked in to this one afternoon last week:

Yes, that is the curtain rod and YES two of the anchored brackets have been PULLED OUT OF THE WALL.  Do I have little girls or little monkeys?  M fessed up to pulling, hanging and likely swinging from the curtains.  When asked why she just grinned at me.  This was after having been in “rest time” for a couple of hours, and after my little mama-freaking-out-tirade over the curtains (I know, pointless – they’re only three) both of my munchkins suddenly became all tuckered out and practically passed out in their beds.

The following day, and totally unrelated, I decided to finally nip in the bud the long standing pacifier attachment that I’ve been dragging my feet over for a good couple of months.  The week of their third birthday back in August, we worked on dropping the paci (or as it’s fondly referred to around these parts – the “bahboo”) during nap time.  To say it was difficult is an understatement; potty training was easier than this.  And it honestly felt like infant sleep training all over again, only this time with very strong-willed and opinionated little ones, who were quite frankly pissed off that I was taking away their security.  After that week or so of hell I was in no hurry to finish the job and ditch the bahboos altogether.  I talked to them about it a lot and always with the disclaimer of “maybe tonight will be our last night of bahboos” but never put my money where my mouth was until last week.  I gave them a brief warning the night before and come morning we made a little ceremony out of it immediately after they woke up, complete with homemade pouches to ship their bahboos off to cousin Zalyn – because she’s a baby, and only babies use pacis.

Gotta love the bedhead!

At the post office, ready to mail the bahboos to cousin Zalyn.

And last but most certainly not least, the Hubs celebrated the big 3-7 last week.  We did a family dinner out at a local Italian restaurant, and then back home for birthday cake and candles.  While I try to not eat cake too often, I’m always up for an excuse to bake one and I don’t mess around with some light or low-fat version.  Bring on the butter and sugar.  I decided on this recipe from one of my favorite go-to sites for high-quality baking, Joy the Baker.  She refers to this cake as the Best Chocolate Bundt Cake Ever and by god she’s right.  I think he thought so too.

“It’s glorious!”

We’ve been chipping away at that cake every couple of nights over movies and DVR’ed television shows, and as it will soon be my undoing I plan to promptly slice and freeze the remaining two-thirds of a cake’s worth tomorrow.  Just so I can open the freezer and stare it down every so often.

Vacation catch-up #1: You lost me at “bush hoggin’”

I’m currently in the middle of vacation withdrawal after getting my long-awaited family fix in Gulf Shores last week with the Hubs’ family – Nanny and Papa, all six siblings, respective spouses and lots of kiddos.  The girls experienced their first plane trip when we left Saturday morning, and helped to conquer my own personal nerves about over newly potty-trained preschoolers with fears of public bathrooms.  They totally rocked it, and the promise of an ice cream award for dry undies at the end of the day didn’t hurt either.

Our first day of vacay was marked by a dip in the pool by all.  We had just gotten in and I saw a panicked look on the Hubs’ face.  As he grabbed for his wedding ring that was left in the pocket of his swim shorts I said “oh, I thought maybe you left your phone in your pocket.”  To which he reached into the other pocket and tossed his soaked iPhone out of the pool.  Oh. Sh*t.  I seriously thought by the look on his face that he was going to vomit.  No joke.  He’ll likely hate me for saying this but it was probably the best thing that could’ve happened to him.  This is a man who is phenomenally committed to his job (and for which I’m so, so very proud of him) but in turn he’s also seriously committed to that phone.  Its unintended dip in the shallow end forced him to unplug for the week.  Hallelujah!

So what do you do with a soaked iPhone?  Bury it in a bag of rice and let the rice help to suck the moisture out.

Day two involved a little trip into town to the AT&T store, where a very nice southern gentlemen confirmed that the rice trick was the way to go to at least try to dry it out to maybe salvage some data.  He also reviewed our options to get a new phone, showed us a waterproof and sand proof case and then enlightened us on how well that super-duper case works for him when he goes out “bush hoggin'” on his two acres.

Excuse me, what?  Um yeah, you lost me.

Come to find out that “bush hoggin'” (also referred to as “brush” hoggin’, per my brother-in-law) apparently involves a tractor/mower apparatus with a large blade, the ability to hack down even small trees and an end result of not having to mow as much.  See, you really do learn something new every day – even on vacation.  And we did walk out of there WITHOUT a new phone.  The Hubs held out all week with just a few peeks at the iPad and a new phone was waiting for him at his office when we got back.  Well done, my dear.

Our guy

We celebrated the Hubs on Sunday with breakfast at home, which included the inaugural run with my new doughnut pan (yum)…

Followed by a morning of lounging at the beach.

Oh how very much we love the Hubs / Daddy!  He embraces this crazy house of girly-ness with such open arms, and works so hard for all of us.  He is carving out his own daddy-only specialties with our daughters that I very happily reserve for him and only him:

Doing “funny hair” (shampoo mohawks) during bath time

Reading Don’t Let the Pigeon Drive the Bus in voices that can reduce me to hilarious tears and bladder instability – think Elvis meets Gomer Pyle with an even heavier southern drawl

Amplifying their already growing musicality with hands-on guitar time and jam band dance parties

Drawing perfect chalk hopscotch on the back patio and hopscotching back and forth over and over again, all while grilling something spectacular for dinner

Teaching them every mascot in the SEC

Special-ordering whipped cream for their pancakes when we go out for breakfast

The girls send him off each workday with hugs and kisses and walk him to the door.  They greet him at the end of every day running to meet him, screaming “DADDY!” at the top of their lungs, and first thing they ask him is “How was your day, Dad?”  No matter how tired he may be or how crappy the day may have turned, I see him grin and watch as his insides melt a little as our daughters tug on his heartstrings.  Exactly as it all should be.

Happy Father’s Day, babe.  You rock.