Even fictional ponies are led by males

Kate, while improvising a story about ponies using a mini theatre and finger puppets: There was one, all alone, because all the others were in a different land. They went to a place called monster-land, so they were eaten by monsters.

Dad: Why did they go to monster-land? Didn't they see that coming?

K: They wanted to go to bird-land where they could see the birds, but they didn't take a map so they got lost.

Rock star

As loving, attentive parents, we recognize our duty to instill a sense of exploration and ambition in our children. This particularly applies to future career selection. Although Andy claims he would prefer a career in meat processing or corporate tax, we have been aggressively encouraging him to form a rock band and live life to its full potential. We've got a long way to go, and some money to raise along the way, but he's got potential. And, for now, he's not resisting enough to stop us.



I'm hoping to be well supported in my golden years.

The Tail of Jane

After a good tussle with her mother, Jane is sporting pig tails. They're not for the faint of heart, but I think Jane pulls them off well.



I think her mom is pretty cute, too.

Gross Receipts

Much to Justin's chagrin I unloaded the contents of the garage, put price tags on the junk, and joined the community yard sale today. We live in the South, why not?
$100 Net Profit (Including $30 in change I added myself)
-$30 in change seized by Andy
+$9 found on Andy's bed 2 hours later
-7 in Tagalongs and Trefoils sold by the neighbor girl
-2.50 in VHS tapes and the Hi-Ho Cheerio game from the other neighbor's house
+10 found in the pocket of Andy's swim trunks at bedtime
=$70

So, I basically made $60 for about 6 hours of work (as Justin likes to remind me). But, I also cleaned out my garage, chatted with my neighbors, treated my children to a donut breakfast like my dad used to do on Saturday mornings, and saw the most beautiful flurry of maple "wings" blow across my neighbor's yard. All in all, a very productive day.

Man of Few Words

It seems Andy and Lily don't get as much coverage on the blog as their prolific sister, Kate, simply because Andy is a man of few words and Lily is babbling semi-coherently for the moment. So, I thought I'd take the time to share some of Andy's better quotes:

"Mom, I like you big much."

A constant refrain of "I still hungry."

Apparently, Andy was eating an additional breakfast at school for several weeks until Kate ratted him out. The teachers wondered how I hadn't notice that his lunch account was depleting faster than usual. Well, apparently he had so charmed the lunch ladies that they were just giving it to him. While I was impressed by his bravado, we had to put a stop to that.

And for Marie:

"Rie mom. No you mom. Just Rie and Tyler Daddy. I go. I pack." Yep, I understood him well enough to be insulted. Sometimes it was better when I couldn't quite understand what he was saying. Add "Jesus no like you" to that list also.

Confessions

My dad called me at 7:00am this morning frantically warning me that the plastics I have been using with my children for the past eight years is potentially lethal. That's right, the trendy bottles I've used for all of my children and those adorable dishes from IKEA are apparently repositories for deadly toxins. Certainly, I don't disagree, but, as a cynic, I think most things in our modern society are probably pretty bad. Still, I follow all of the rigid APA guidelines as a responsible parent.

Can I confess that I was secretly relieved? My sink was filled with dirty dishes, and as a responsible parent, I was forced to throw nearly half of the dirty dishes in the garbage without even washing them. And it didn't stop there. I was forced to get rid of all the fast food cups toppling out of the cupboard and clear the bottle space out of an entire drawer. Yes, that also means I finally forced myself to eliminate bottles altogether for Lily. Maybe next week we'll find out that cotton is a deadly threat and I won't have to do laundry.

To Grandmothers House We Go

While driving to Blairsville to visit Fefe and Pa, the kids' great-grandparents, Kate remarks:

K: It's bad to be getting old.

Mom: Why do you think that Kate?

K: You forget that you're not supposed to take drugs.

With age, maturity

Dad (who has been relentless in his negotiations with Kate to limit her age and stay young perpetually): How old are you now?

Kate: Six.

D: Wow, when did that happen?

K: On my birthday.

D [sighing]: Well then, can you stay six from now on?

K: No can do.

D: What's it gonna take to keep you six?

K: Okay, I'm done talking about six.