Put on Glory

"Someday, we will put on glory…that greater glory of which Nature is only the first sketch.

We do not want to merely “see” beauty -- though, God knows, even that is bounty enough. We want something else which can hardly be put into words–to be united with the beauty we see, to pass into it, to receive it into ourselves, to bathe in it, to become part of it.” - Lewis

Thankful today for the beauty that surrounds me -from kiddos with peanut butter faces to the first drops of the fresh relief of Spring to a good hard run and a hard working husband- and thankful for the promise that as beautiful as it is, it is but a sketch of what is to come.

Mug Shot

I've mentioned before how I have a pinterest problem. Not that I'm on it frequently, it's either feast or famine with me. Sometimes I pin manically, and then I don't even remember it exists for weeks. I rarely use anything I pin. There are braids I will never do and recipes I don't even think I can pronounce let alone make, that I've pinned just cuz I was hungry and having a bad hair day. Pinterest has that effect on me.

Recently, though, I fell into a manic pinning spree and came across these mug recipes. I mean, there is a recipe for everything from a cookie to thanksgiving dinner...all in a mug in your microwave. I can microwave stuff. Well, there was that time where I exploded popcorn in the microwave, but I still don't know that aliens weren't involved. Anyway, I decided what could go wrong? So me and the hooligans set out to make a mug of french toast. (That sounds really gross, but it pretty much just is regular french toast without the dirty pan and spatula.)

Ok, so I made french toast in a mug. They practiced the waltz that I didn't realize they knew existed. But while they were dancing I was microwaving a mean french toast. It turned our really well I think. Like I said, nothing fancy. I think mostly the excitement for the kids was that breakfast was in a cup instead of on a plate. And they might have thought they could drink syrup. Nope, guys.

We did also try a nutella cake in a mug that was really good. I almost burned my mouth off trying it, but  I like to live on the edge. If you can wait till a new dessert is cool enough to actually try and eat it you must really not be that excited about it in the first place, and should maybe just eat a carrot. Speaking of carrots and pinterest-mania, I also made "carrot fries" for the kids. I thought they were good, but don't try these unless you are the mother of bugs bunny, or the mythical not-picky eater. (I think if your kid eats healthy without complaining or flinging themselves on the floor you are either: lying, hallucinating, or sprinkling drugs in their dinner...but that's maybe my bitterness and peanut butter-and-jelly-making fatigue talking.)

A Little Bit of Jericho in My Life

I sometimes feel like the youngest of this brood gets a little lost in the shuffle. Although he's definitely working on asserting himself and throwing his significant weight around, he has always been such a chill baby that he gets ignored. Not ignored, but he's easy to overlook in the shuffle. (See Wednesday's post if you are uncertain about what I mean by "shuffles".)

So I just wanted to post a few pictures of his royal handsomeness, because do not be deceived, he is spoiled rotten. I think if he was my first baby he would be a holy terror. He pretty much bosses us all around. I gotta get a grip. I'm blaming those big brown eyes. 

Or maybe it's that goofball shaggy hair he has going on. It kind of grew really fast all of a sudden, and now he's sportin' a mullet of sorts. I haven't decided if I'm going to cut it or what exactly at this point. (I just heard my mother's deep sigh of annoyance thinking she may have two longhaired grandsons. ;) Sorry, Mom. No promises on that one yet. I kind of have to take kiddos' hair where I can get it, since at least one of my children (bless her crazy headed mop) cannot seem to grow hair while it just sprouts out of her brothers' stubborn noggins.) But I digress...his shaggy 'do is kind of irresistible.

He has been a blessing, and I cannot believe how fast his first year flew by. He still seems completely unconcerned with things such as walking, talking, and generally being a contributing member of society, but I'm not too concerned. The other two walked by 13 months (that date has come and gone), but he is content to crawl/cruise like some sort of shaggy headed bulldozer. Literally...he will crush anything in his path. He will master the walking/talking gig when he's ready, until then I will continue lugging his 25 pound self everywhere, and enjoying those gap-teefered grins of his in the process.

Exhibits A & B

Typically, you hear lots of moms saying things like, "I need a vacation". This is true. Moms need vacations. Even if it's a 2 minute all expense paid trip for one to the bathroom...we need a vacation. Most of us wouldn't turn down a real vacation though...where you actually get to sleep and eat something besides that piece of sandwich your kid is trying to pitch in the trash.

I was thinking, at the end of last week, just how much I needed said vacation, when I heard a large crash while fixing breakfast in the kitchen with Jericho. The other two were supposed to be getting dressed. I mean, typically, when I get dressed, it doesn't sound like a bomb went off. But everyone's different I guess. I hurried into the other room to check, and found this:

Thankfully, no one was hurt. Except for two lamps which were pronounced dead at the scene and one stuffed bear who is expected to make a full recovery. But, as my title suggests, if anyone out there is listening, I submit exhibits A & B as evidence as to why I really, really, really need a vacation.

Come Puke or High Fevers

Billy and I don't get out much...or ever, actually. 3 kids + 60 hour work weeks + 0 extra funds = 0 date nights. And the ones we do end up going on always seem to end in a text from whomever is watching them saying someone is sick back at the ranch. The kids are just trying to make sure they don't have to share us with any more kids, I guess. I should be flattered...right? ;)

This time we had planned for them to stay overnight for Valentine's Day. PF Changs, a movie, and the next day we were actually getting a couples massage. Gasp. I know, pretty out of control. We got through the PF Changs (yum!), and the movie, too, before we got the "Jericho is puking" memo. Le Sigh. At least I got to inhale a few lettuce wraps without anyone asking me to take them to the bathroom before that happened though, so I won't complain.

I also won't complain because the father of said puker stayed with the little sickie while I went and got my half of the couple's massage. It woulda been nice if the massage place had let us reschedule, or given us two massages at separate times, but they weren't feeling the love. So I got massaged, and went to the grocery store, all by myself. I must say, Valentine's Day spent alone couldn't have gone much better. If this is how it goes, I'm all for calling it "Single's Awareness Day".

I am always grateful to whoever is willing to take on these three animals when we do get a chance to go out (typically my sister, Abby, dubbed "aunt Abba" by my wild brood. She's pretty much a saint. A very brave saint.). I mean, it's not their fault our kids will risk puke and high fevers to get us back. And thankfully, so far, Jericho's little puke stunt hasn't affected anyone else. (More evidence to the fact that they just can't be away from me and will do anything to prevent me from even making a bathroom stop alone. Sweet little cling-ons that they are.) So maybe we'll try another date night again sometime. Maybe if I do it sooner rather than later I won't give the hooligans enough time to come up with a plan for sabotage?

Extra Ingredients

If I can make these...anyone can. I'm talking about strawberry chocolate chip cookies. I actually made cookies...like as in the dough wasn't already put together. Granted, this was probably the simplest recipe in the history of cookies, but I've ruined popcorn and frozen pizza. This was a giant leap for mankind. Or at least me.

I even managed to let the kiddos help me. Usually I get so flustered and distracted and bored when I try to cook anything that if I add hooligans to the list of ingredients? Recipe for disaster...or take out, either one. But this recipe started with a box of cake mix and only asked me to add a couple other things, one of which being chocolate chips that I managed to not eat the entire bag of first.

They turned out really yummy I think. The kids really liked them, and they are pretty much the pickiest people I've ever even heard of. We made them Valentine's Day, so I got my fix of pink and sweet stuff all in one dose.

I'm not gonna say exactly how many cookies it took to satisfy that fix, but I added at least one extra cookie to take the edge off the stress of having to get the egg shells out of the bowl, when Merrick so sweetly obliterated the egg as opposed to simply cracking it. He needs to work on his form, but I think I'll have to find a tutor for that one.

To Mamoo's House We Go

We go to my mom's house about once a week or so. She lives pretty close by. She also tends to go by the name "Mamoo", which was bestowed upon her by Merrick when he couldn't say "Grandma", and it's just stuck. And as it should be, the kids get away with lots of shenanigans while at Mamoo's place.

This time? They got into a stash of FunDip supplied by Mamoo's sister (and neighbor). Well, the older two. The littlest only got into the bagels, and the bananas, and the cheerios...ok, and maybe just a taste of the FunDip. But that was not my doing.

Mamoo likes to do a little bit of spoiling, which is what Mamoos should do. I think the FunDip was a success. Maybe a little bit more sour than some people were expecting, but successful nonetheless. And then there is always the gum stash (Mamoo has a neverending gum stash in her purse) that gets raided on the way out the door to go home. This time only one person ended up with it stuck all over themselves by the time we got home. A successful trip all around. ;)

Valentines and Lots of Made up Words

I looooove Valentines Day. LOVE it. This is weird for several reasons...I hate stuff that's cheesy, and Valentines is the cheesiest. I don't like when things don't match, and Valentines is the unmatchiest. (I mean: pink and red? We all know those are not supposed to go together. Matchiest: the first of words I felt needed to be made up for this blog.) I don't particularly like awkward displays of emotion (unless it's of the competitive sort, then by all means scream/cry/hug) and Valentines is the lovey-doviest. It makes no sense, but maybe that suits me about right.

I even went so far as to dress the three kids in all red for church yesterday. (I typically wear anything but green on St. Patty's day, just because I can, if this tells you anything about my oddly undying love for this holiday.) They looked pretty cute if I do say so myself...but trying to take a picture of them was not cute. It was the ugliest. We tried at two different times today and someone always looked mad, emotionally disturbed and/or constipated, or was running out of the picture. I probably wouldn't try that again for all the chocolates in the Valentines section of Target. And goodness knows how I love those.

So as we get closer to the big day, I'll be overdosing on cheesy and colors that are the clashiest and awkward displays of emotion (ok probably not that last one), and hopefully hiding at least some of the chocolate from the most uncooperative photo subjects in the history of Valentines Day.

Just Dance

Their dance moves never cease to amaze me, and make me laugh till I cry. I hope that they have the same effect on you. Happy Saturday! ;)

Don't play with your food...

I've said this very phrase so many times I can't even count. I remember hearing it as a kid, and thinking it was a dumb thing to say. I mean, what good is something if you can't play with it? But as the big bad grumpy mom cleaning up the results of playing with food, I get it. I totally get it. I STILL don't get why it's not ok to jump on the bed, though. (I get if you have a bed frame/box springs, etc...but Merrick's bed is just stacked on the floor. So I decided "why not?")

Anyway, I have decided that playing with food is ok on occasion. That occasion being I want to Instagram you playing with your food. ;) I figured Valentine's candy corn fangs needed to be shared with the world. And the likelihood of these hitting the floor and someone not eating them anyway is very slim. (We adhere strictly to the "I will pretend did NOT see you actually eat that off the floor" rule...similar to a 5 second rule, but grosser, I suppose.)

So, maybe I'm not such a lame mom after all. Although I did just yell "because I said so". Lost major points there. But hey, it happens to the best of us.

Big Mac

So we took the plunge. We finally joined the ranks of those who sing the praises of Apple computers. Our old laptop (not an Apple) was seriously struggling. It was making grinding noises, wouldn't turn back on when turned off, the screen/lid was loose, and it won't stay on unless perpetually plugged into the wall...which is fun when your 1yo likes to unplug things. I've been anti-apple just because Apple fans can be, for lack of any other way to put it, a tad bit over-enthusiastic about their computers. It's kind of scary. While I was sure they were good computers (and so far it seems to be) every time I tried to use one I was always flinging stuff into corners of the desktop, pushing the wrong button, losing things, etc. But we decided it was time to learn when most Mac owners said their computers were still going strong at 4+ years, some even said up to 7. I can deal with 7 years of not buying a new computer.

I also realize that this above shot has been done a hundred times before by many an apple operator, but the hooligans decided that it needed to go on the blog. So on the blog it went. I'd much prefer the big-girl camera shots like the one from the last post featured below, but we all know who runs things around here. ;)

I'm still figuring all this out, and still thanking uncle Sam, and a sweet little gift called a "child tax credit", for this opportunity. Here's to many more Mac-produced blogs in the future. ;)

It Takes a Zoo...

...to snuggle on a  Saturday morning. The hooligans love to wake me up in the morning "snuggling", as they call it. They just typically bring an arsenal of plastic animals, toys, noisemakers, and some bedhead with them. I guess there are definitely worse alarm clocks out there.

There is still one member of this party of five who is stuck in a cage and needs help to find his way to the "snugglefest". He's pretty much one of the cutest wild animals I've ever seen. But watch out, he definitely bites. Snuggling is a dangerous activity around here.