Our Basement... aka shooting range

I'm certain the little teaser at the end of my last post left you all on the edge of your seats to find out what's been going on in the basement.  Good news.  The suspense is over.  Lets just say our toy room has become a shooting range.  I don't ask questions, I just keep the girls upstairs with me and try to attend church service regularly.

 

He aims... he fires... he hits his target.  Mike tells me our boy has skill.

 

I respond, "Of course he does... he's his fathers son."  I like to suck up like that.  It's good for the marriage.

 

Pay no attention to the fact that his target sits on an empty wine box and never mind the stack of wine boxes to the left of the shooting range.  It's all part of the experience.

Wicked

Today became a looooong Sunday afternoon.  I grew up with those and therefore,  handled it like a pro.  Maisie attended a birthday party, Mike researched the end of the world and Ross watched ice skating on channel 13 with me.  I thought of Gfunk and wondered what ever happened to Brian Boitano.  This morning Molly received a "fwower" from church as it was her 'baptismal anniversary'.  Glad someone's keeping track.

 

 

I'll let you interpret the next photo for yourself.   Those of you who know my husband wont be phased.

 

 

Meanwhile, I can't decide what I appreciate more... how completely bored Kratt looks, or how trashed our living room is.

 

 

Maisie was kind enough to tell me this morning that my eye wrinkles looked 'wicked'.  Ironically, this afternoon Mike found my wrinkle cream in the remote-control-car tub in the basement.  Again, how ironic.

 

 

Her newest ballet-pose-smile.

 

Stay tuned to find out what else Mike and Ross have been up to in the basement this weekend...

Cookies and Desiree

Molly and I baked cookies this week.  I love that she held onto this tiny baby the entire time.  Such a little mother.  She also worked on learning her alphabet on the Kindle while holding the baby.  Unfortunately the tiny baby burnt her little finger on the hot baking sheet.  We were fresh out of Band-aids and everyone was very upset.  On a side note, I'm not sure I ever make the chocolate chip cookie recipe from the Betty Crocker red-gingham cookbook, but they are ridiculously fantastic.

 

 

Molly explains how poor little baby burnt her finger on the hot pan.  Lesson learned.

 

 

 

 

Maisie's best friend Desiree came home from school with Maisie.  It was "bring a friend to dance class" week.  I love having little girls.  They let me do their nails, hair and make-up so they'd look like twins.  I swear I felt like I was 12. 

 

 

I find them completely adorable. 

Tooth Fairy's, Human Reprodution and Erin's Mom

I often forget how grown up Ross is getting.  For instance, he’s been pushing me pretty hard about whether the tooth fairy exists.  I’m having a hard time giving this one up.  The Easter Bunny was no biggie, the bunny thing freaks me out.  Not that a little fairy flying around looking for teeth doesn’t, but since I’ve never actually been the tooth fairy (not even once), I feel like I’m missing out.  Ross has a tooth collection and he reminded me of his plan to wait until all his baby teeth come out before he puts them under his pillow.  He figures he’ll be about 14 when that happens.  Let’s just say if he still believes in the tooth fairy at 14 we have a problem.  He threatens me that he’s going to stick a tooth under his pillow one night when I’m least expecting it and that will confirm whether or not the fairy actually exists. 

 

Now, for the twist.  The other night before bed while debating the whole tooth fairy ordeal, the conversation morphed into human reproduction (I don’t see the link either, but it happened), including erections, seeds, eggs and believe it or not we actually touched on menopause… don’t ask.  Mike walked into the room, overheard the topic and walked right back out.

I clearly remember hearing the basics of human reproduction from Erin Hinz’ mom in 2^nd grade and being completely repulsed, as was Erin.  Some things you just never forget.  I take it as a complement Ross is comfortable enough to talk to me about uncomfortable topics.  I’m also glad I’m here to give him accurate answers before the day comes where kids at school fill his brain with garbage.  I just wonder whether the kids at school will fill him in on the tooth fairy before that day comes.

 

 

A little something...

Just thought I'd share a little something I've been working on...

 

Check it out and share!

 

http://fromheidiskitchen.blogspot.com

 

Sunday Morning

We all slept in this morning and didn't make it to church.  So instead, we heated up some corndogs for breakfast, dipped 'em in pancake syrup and did what any other normal family does on Sunday morning. 

 

We made bullets.

 

With our 3 year old. 

A few of my favorite things

I'm 35.  Instead of blowing off my birthday or acting like it was just another day, I decided to live it up.  Not the way I did when I turned 8, 14, or 21, but in a way I never have.  I embraced and appreciated the entire day and was able to find much joy... much gratitude... much contentment. 

 

Every text, every phone call or every email.  Or it might have been receiving birthday cards in the mail like this one.  I love the way my name looks when it's written like this.  I don't see it often, so when I do, I obviously grab my camera and snap a photo.

 

 

It could have been the way the kids got so excited when they found out it truly was my birthday. 

Or it could have been this sneaky little fellow who has a higher percentage of alcohol than I'm used to and ended up biting me back later in the evening. 

Yet I'm willing to guess it was none of those.  I looked at 35 years of life and was truly grateful for all the gifts I've ever received.  Not the gifts I've unwrapped but the gifts of family, the indescribable love for my kids and a husband who knows me better than I know myself.  On the years I turned 8, 14, or 21, I sometimes wonder if I wished for this life as I blew out my birthday candles.  Either way, I am grateful.

 

Meanwhile, Molly's lips are chapped...