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It is a cave, a fortress, a castle, a hideout, a pirate ship. It is a world that I am not privy to.
They bounce and run all over it until I finally shout, “Let’s not break the couch today please!”
Then they replace all the well worn cushions where they belong. Facing the rips toward the back of the couch. They fluff up the pillows by jumping on them, leapfrog style. Finally they finish and the couch is once again a couch. A boring couch.
When we were looking for new couches for our family room I bought some that have non-removable cushions. One “magical” couch is enough.
These alphabet blocks were mine when I was a little kid. Back in olden times according to my children.
My 7 and 8 yr olds have this spelled out in their bathroom, on a bookcase right next to their sink. And yet every single night when I ask them if they have brushed their teeth, they respond, “I forgot.”
Today all the slushy snow that was left everywhere turned to ice. The thermometer topped at 24 degrees. But we are hearty souls who don’t let things like wind chill factors bringing the temperature down into the negatives keep us inside. Or the fact that we had to drive on what amounted to an ice rink.
No we look out the window and think, ‘This is a perfect day for tubing.’
As we were walking to the tubing hill, we had to walk down another icy hill. I was walking, wishing I had crampons, not to be confused with tampons, and pulling Miles, also known as He-Who-Will-Not-Walk. My 10 yr old son decided to take a running headfirst dive down the hill, sliding on his stomach. With no warning he took me down like I was a stray bowling pin. And KEPT on going. I was lleft aying there looking up at the sky still holding onto the sled rope.
I checked my camera. Then determined that I hadn’t broken a hip. Yes, in that order.
This is him shortly after the incident when he claimed he didn’t know he had knocked me over.
Photo for today:
Collapsing after tubing.
Post up over at Work It, Mom. The Valentine’s Day Dinner that keeps on giving.
This morning (last night?) it snowed. A very wet snow. But since it was warmish today the snow began melting. Mass flooding all over the place. Not that I really have to worry too much about flooding since I live on top of a mountain, or for those of you who live on or near actual snow capped mountains, a hill. We do have a sump pump in our basement, because like most other people who own old houses the basement is not water tight.
Imagine walking on top of what appears to be a foot of snow. Only it is eight inches of snow floating on top of four inches of water.
Shoveling it all out of the way was hard work. I hate hard work. My 13 yr old and 10 yr old did as much work as I did. Truth be told my 13 year old did most of it. He is much much stronger than I am and could fling the snow around like it was nothing.
Miles just picked something up off the kitchen floor and held it up for me to see. It is small and brown.
“Look at this crap!”
“What is it, Miles?”
“I tell you, it is crap.”
“Oh, yuck.” I answer trying not to laugh.
“Yes, it is crap and it smells like crap.”
“What is it?”
“Crap. It is crap.” He answers exasperated with me.
“Is it poop?”
“No, not poop. I said crap.”
“Is it food?”
“No. You don’t EAT crap.” He is annoyed and gesticulates wildly with his hands, clearly thinking how could he possibly have been born with such a stupid mother.
“Of course not.”
“Here smell my hands. Smell the crap.”
“That’s ok. I don’t want to.”
“Yes, you do want to smell crap.”
“Where did the crap come from, do you think?”
“It came from shoes. From crappy shoes.”
I am dying laughing. So he starts yelling for his brothers.
“Guys! Guys! Get your butts over here. Clean up all this crap!”
I have been working on this in my free time. Which means that it has been sitting here forever. The room straight in front of the door is the one that we have been working on for about a year now. It is almost done. Just needs the molding put up along the floor and one last piece of crown molding.
My job is to paint all the doors in this room: the two closet doors, the bathroom door, and the door to the room from the hallway.
The plaster is missing because the wall and door opening had to be rebuilt. And unlike sheetrock, you can just precisely cut away the area you want. That little wall hanging has been there since we bought the house. It is filled with shells that have googley eyes and pom-pom noses glued on them. When we were looking at the house my kids went on and on about how much they loved so the owner gave it to them. As soon as the rest of the plaster wall comes down it will be going too. Not so much because it is tacky as all get out, but because it is covered with layer after layer of stuck on dust and grime.
My kids think we get rid of all the best parts of the house.
I couldn’t decide which photo I liked best today. This one which shows the joy of playing with the slinky, and gives a hint to how LOUD everything is in this house. Screaming, yelling, and pumping your fists in the air is the appropriate response for everything.
Or this one, which shows the truth behind sibling relationships.
If looks could kill. Don’t get on her bad side, just sayin’.