sweet n' sour.

My kids adore grapefruit.

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They beg for it.

They cry for it.

It's almost an obsession.

Jeff tossed a huge bag of grapefruit into the shopping cart last Monday, I laughed because it was so big. Almost a whole trees-worth. I thought most of them would go bad, but I was wrong. Josh consumed 3 grapefruit by himself yesterday. You'd think we are pirates trying to beat off a major case of scurvy. We are down to the last grapefruit and I am stressing because if I don't get out today, I won't be able to get to the store until Monday. Can our household handle a grapefruit shortage over the weekend?

pop quiz.

Okay class, it's time for your pop quiz. I love to see the faces behind the blogs. Who are these dynamic women that take time out of their busy day to keep us up to date with their lives and personal stories? Time for a test.

I am calling all bloggers, whoever you may be, to post a self portrait (photo and otherwise) on the morning of Friday, April 6. Leave a comment in this post with your blog address so I can post a link to all the participating bloggers out there!

Assignment accepted?

Let your personality shine!

chefs choice.

Joshua chatting with me the other day:

Josh: “Mom, when I grow up I want to be a chef. I will get some guys to build me a restaurant. Then I will make things like chicken noodle soup, and scrambled eggs.”

Me: “Can I come?”

Josh: “Yes. I will make you spaghetti.”

Me: “Yum. That’s one of my favorite things! After I’m done, can I kiss the cook?”

Josh: “No mom, chefs don’t give kisses.”

a day at Texoma.

We always plan things last minute, and today brought a spontaneous trip to one of our favorite summer spots, the Eisenhower State Park at Lake Texoma.
We enjoyed a lovely picnic overlooking the enormous blue lake. Bliss.

Then we went for a brisk hike around a few of the trails.

The meadows were so quiet and pretty.

Josh leads the way.

Come on!

The views were fantastic.

Our last stop was the beach, which served as the boys favorite part of the day with sand castle building being on the top of the list.

We even brought a little bit of the sand home with us.

Classic.

my neighborhood.

It's a beautiful day in this neighborhood .

A beautiful day for a neighbor.

Would you be mine?

Could you be mine ?
It's a neighborly day in this beauty wood.

A neighborly day for a beauty.

Would you be mine?

Could you be mine ?
I've always wanted to have a neighbor just like you.

I've always wanted to live in a neighborhood with you.

So, let's make the most of this beautiful day.

Since we're together we might as well say.

Would you be mine, could you be mine?

Won't you be my neighbor?

Won't you please, won't you please?

Please won't you be my neighbor?

didgeridoo-dad

Today was an ode to Australia day.

While searching in his glove box for his proof of registration

(no, we didn't get pulled over, it's that time of the year again at the DMV.)

I ran into Jeff's old Australian Folk Songs tape that he's had in there for ages. So, as we ran errands this morning

(while the boys were in preschool)

we rocked out to Waltzing Matilda, Tie me Kangaroo Down, and Aussie BBQ.

They missed out!

For laughs later in the afternoon, Jeff pulled out his didgeridoo from the ol' missh. to show the boys.

What a hit.

Josh loved trying to get his mouth just right. It only took Ben a couple of tries to master it. None of us understand the circular breathing technique it takes to play continually, but it sounds good until our lung air capacity runs out.

Goodness,

at this pace I'll be whipping up a batch of Anzac biscuits, getting out my Vegemite, and watching the Crocodile hunter all before the night is through.

She'll be right, mate.

price gouge and a lush drought.

I was talking with my parents yesterday night. Their bishop told them that along with being prepared with food storage, that they also needed to be prepared for the possibility of gas prices reaching the $10 to $15 dollar a gallon range. Imagine my surprise this morning when I spotted this sign on our way to the car wash.

My heart skipped a beat until I realized the numbers were cockeyed and the white background behind the red numbers was showing through and at a glance, looked like a 1. (Jeff told me to explain this picture as to not start a national gas frenzy.)

Then, we high tailed it to the car wash. Because of the water restrictions we are STILL under, washing a car in your driveway is prohibited. And as you can see by all of the lush greenery behind Jeff, we are suffering major drought conditions. (I am being sarcastic of course, Arizona would scoff at our Texas drought.)

jolly old chaps.

Josh and Ben looked so dapper in their snappy Sunday suits. I think they added 10 years to their ages.

Watch out girls, these studs are single and ready to mingle.

gimmie an S! gimmie a T! gimmie an I! gimmie an N! gimmie a K!

what's that spell? STINK, and that's how my day is summed up. It stunk. It all started with the toilet overflowing. You heard me right, it overflowed. The unmistakable sound of a waterfall hitting our shiny new tile gave it away. Before I knew it I was on my hands and knees in a toilet tsunami struggling to get the water turned off. I must have looked like a crazy woman going from our linen closet to our hall bath dumping armloads of fluffy towels to wick up the watery wasteland. It was one of the dirtiest things I have ever done. I just chalk it up to being a mother of boys. Conspiring boys. Sneaky boys. Talk-each-other-into-doing-it boys. A mothers work is never done (and I quote my own mother when I say) "Can't I ever have anything nice?" The question answers itself.

But, lets not get too ahead of ourselves. Before the toilet had turned into the Disneyland log ride, I was busy doing something else that I hate to do every season. And that one thing is rotate the boys clothes. This time I was ambitious, doing two things at once. I decided to reorganize the toys AND do the clothes at the same time. Well, one thing lead to another, and before I knew it, the pile of "baby" toys that I had carefully placed on the top of Ben's shelf, came rum-tum-tumbling down in Jenga mode right on top of my hard head--And then the toilet overflowed.

Later that day, Ben peed on the carpet for no apparent reason, just leaving a little happy trail right next to my reading lamp.

Josh decided it was a good idea to press his sweet little face as hard as he could against our window screen (I had the windows open) and the screen fell out of the window and right into our flower bed.

I had enough of the craziness, when it was time for bed, I knew we had to wash this day off with a bath. That did the trick, as soon as the kids got out of the bath, we all felt a lot better. It set up the perfect ambiance for going to sleep, and that's what they both did as soon as their little heads hit the pillow.

It reminded me of a cartoon that I had read in an art class in high school. It was the picture of a mother, hovering over her two little boys sleeping in their beds. And the caption read something like "I would relax now, but I have a sneaking suspicion they are just recharging their batteries." I completely understand that now. I have two little energizer bunnies.

I took these pictures of the kids bath time, and tried to make them look like watercolor paintings, but after uploading, I was disappointed in the results. But I guess that just sums up my day, disappointing. But, in the words of Scarlet O'Hara "Tomorrow is another day!" and it is.

J&B

the watering can can

My kids love to dance the watering can can which goes a little something like this.

Grab a can, choose your color.

Have a little fight with your brother.

Back and forth to the hose.

When you will stop, nobody knows.

Give each flower a hearty drink.

Our flowers are pretty, don't you think?

We think. {so}

"I am married to spiderman" and other family legends.

I am married to Spiderman. Or at least that's what some people think.

It hasn't been once, but twice that it's happened (and a third counting my own observation.) It all has to do with Tobey Maguire, and the fact that Jeff looks a little bit like the Spiderman actor. The first time the connection was made was by myself as we were watching the movie for the first time. As I was fanning myself after the steamy upside down kiss in the rain under the spiderman mask, I made a startling discovery, Jeff and Spiderman looked a lot alike! When I pointed this out to Jeff, he just scoffed at the idea and we forgot about it. A few months later, as Jeff was working as a bank teller for Compass, a customer came up with a little boy that after a few minutes and a lot of staring asked Jeff, "Are you spiderman?" He said the kid looked disappointed when he said he wasn't, and I told him he should have said he was and was hiding from the Green Goblin here in the Compass Bank, Albertsons grocery store branch.

The last Spiderman sighting happened while Jeff was dressed in full flight uniform, as he exited an elevator at the airport, two waiting flight attendants passed Jeff to get inside and as he was walking away he heard one woman say to the other "Boy, that Pilot sure looks like Spiderman." And so the legend goes on.
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I have Irish twins. Or at least that's what some people think.
I think sometimes that people think it is their humanly duty to point out to me that my two boys look a lot alike. Every single time I go out in public I get asked the question "Oh how cute, are they twins?" and I have gotten so sick of explaining over and over that "Nope, my youngest was an oops!" or "Yeah well, Ben was a surprise." that sometimes I just answer "Yes." (Ben is just the gimpy one.) Usually though, I have to go through the explanation (which sometimes can be quite embarrassing, and time consuming) to which the question is posed "So, they're Irish Twins?" to which I just usually nod yes because I have spend a good chunk of time explaining this phenomenon to a total and complete stranger and want to get back to my { fill in the blank} (grocery shopping, traveling, bra shopping, teeth cleaning, lunch...).

But, through the years have found out that they are not Irish twins at all, to be considered an Irish twin is to be born within a year of each other and Josh and Ben are exactly ONE YEAR and 3 days (3 days, people!) apart. So technically, they are not Irish twins.

I knew that this question had been coming up a lot lately when I heard Josh explain to Ben one day during lunchtime, "No Ben! We're not twins, we are just being raised as twins." End of story.
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I am a freak magnet. Or at least that's what some people think.

I don't know if it's how tall I am and so I stand out in a crowd, or if it's the fact that sometimes I am just in the wrong place at the wrong time, or maybe the "terrified look" I plaster on my face actually radiates out love and affection. Freaks totally dig me. My first "Freaky" memory happened when I was about 16, and searching for a book at our local library in the "teen" section. I had just finished work, and just wanted to find a quick book to check out for the weekend. I noticed there was an older man there, sitting in a chair, reading a book. After a couple of minutes, the old man was right in my face (also wearing a polyester one piece jumpsuit, and only had 4 functioning teeth) asking me for my autograph. I was so confused. Autograph? And then he asks, "You're Connie Selleca, right?" And I had to laugh because I didn't even know who Connie Selleca was, and turned him down. Of course he wanted to chat for several minutes, actually following me to the check-out. Of course.

Most freaky people I meet are mesmerized by my height, asking me to reach things for them on high store shelves or racks. Commenting on long legs or something about tall women.

I have been followed out to my car from the grocery store by freaky people, actually causing me to go back inside and ask for help with my groceries. I have been asked by freaky people to let them hold my babies, to which I turn on my heel and head for someplace more populated.

I'm not the only one plagued by this condition. Jeff worked with a girl named Hannah who was also a freak magnet. While they were promoting Compass Bank Checking Accounts one afternoon, Hannah (Wearing a Compass Bank apron) was passing out free cookies by the Albertsons doors. Of course, in walks a freak, and asks her for her name to which she replied "Mary". The freak then says "Ohhhh Mary, slip a few cookies into your apron and meet me in the park." When Jeff came home and told me this story, all I could do was feel sorry for this poor girl.

My Mother in law also gets assaulted by Freaks. It has gotten so bad she has made up an alias to go by in case they ask her name. Something like Nancy Taylor.

So throughout the years, I have learned and developed my "Freaky People Radar" and can usually spot them before I am intercepted. I have taken many detours to avoid the common freak. I don't nearly get as assaulted as I use to. Maybe freaks are scared of toddlers.