Because Mara Told Me To

Mara reminded me that my blog doesn't need to be cool, hip, pinterest-worthy.  At this point just an online journal would be fine.  And that is true, and so I will try better.

I visited Mara in New Hampshire over the weekend.  It was so, so fun to spend the weekend with just Mara, not with other siblings (love you guys!) or my kids (you too!).  Just a sister weekend.  With her boyfriend and dog, too, but they were, respectively, our event coordinator/meat-griller extraordinaire and, I don't know, lap-warmer/scrap-eater/court jester.

New Hampshire is a lot more like Alaska than I could have imagined.  There were mountains and snow and lots of lakes and quirky little small towns with gun shops and gift shops and tiny organic food restaurants.

Mara and I cooked a lot of good food, which was one of the highlights of the weekend for me, no surprise there.  We made a caramelized onion and butternut squash galette that was amazing and an oh-so-good sweet potato pie.  Also gnocci in tomato broth and cheddar swirl buns.  Mmm.  I'm still dreaming about it.

Speaking of meals, I'm trying to be really good about meal planning lately, and I'm also trying to make food my family will eat but that will stretch the kids' palette's as well.  Here is the plan for this week:

Mon: Craig bought pizza since I wasn't home yet
Tues: black bean soup with chips and cheese/veggie plate
Wed: lasagne and salad (they eat salad now!  except Henry, who eats the carrots and cucumbers out of the salad.  thank you ranch, the gateway drug)
Thurs: burritos with the leftover soup/apple pie for pi day
Fri: white bean soup with potatoes and bacon/cheddar swirl buns
Sat: that galette I mentioned above (we'll see how it goes over with the kids)
Sun: thai yellow curry with potatoes and tofu (I predict Luke will eat only the rice)

So we will see how it goes!

Cliffhanger

 I just found this beginning of a story that Henry wrote this morning:

After the pants were soakd  in the anti bakterea germ remoover 

What?  WHAT HAPPENED after the pants were soaked in the anti bakterea germ remoover?  Perhaps he will finish the story and give me permission to post it here.  Until then, you will have to use your imagination.

P.S. We got a cat!

Snakey the Rootbeer and His Magical Miniature Ice Cream Cart

I'm back, and I'm going to try to keep up with the blog a little more.  Poor Silas deserves that, right?  I mean, the kid doesn't even have a baby book.  He should get a few blog posts at least.

Silas is an incredibly creative guy.  He's always crafting and drawing.  Like, constantly.  He insisted on writing his own letter to Santa.  I couldn't touch the thing, and Henry told me that it would be okay since Santa is magical and could read Silas's writing, even though we can't.  Here's what Silas told us the letter said:

Dear Santa,

I would like a jack in the box.  Also, two dragons from Target.  I also want a new scooter because mine is almost broken.  Ho, ho, ho!

From Silas David Jens Jackson

Silas has imaginary friends.  Lots of them.  Neither Luke nor Henry ever had imaginary friends, so this is new for me.  For a long time Silas had a baby named Billy the Builder.  Now he has a lot of friends.  Snakey the Rootbeer, Billy the Backpack, Rootbeer the Snake.  He pushes them in the swings and puts them in his pocket.

Silas also says totally bizarre things out of the blue.  Sometimes they make no sense whatsoever, but sometimes they are really funny.  The kid has a great sense of humor.

"I wish I had an ice cream truck," he said the other night.

"Oh yeah?  That would be fun," I answered.

"An ice cream truck in MY BUTT!" he went on.

"In your butt?" I asked.

"Yes!  Then I could poop out ice cream!"

Future sitcom writer?  Stand up comedian?  Avant Garde art installation maker?  The world is your oyster, kid.

Three Months This Time

I'm going for a no-posting record.  I have thought about closing up shop, seeing as I'm not exactly a writing machine these days, but my two fans are demanding a post.

What can I say?  Life is pretty busy.  Henry kept active all spring with soccer and gymnastics.  Luke isn't one for organized sports/activities, but he does want to hang out with friends all. the. time.  He is a social guy.  Silas demands his weekly story time and preschool playtime at the local rec center.  And have I mentioned that I'm now teaching four Zumba classes a week?  Life is full.  And good.

Henry had a wild birthday party with a lot of little boys.  They screamed and jumped around.

Summer has been slower in some ways, but with the three kids home all the time it feels busy in a different way.  We joined the pool and go there a few times a week.  Henry did a week-long basketball camp.  Luke is taking guitar lessons.  We are going on a vacation/family reunion for ten days or so.  Luke will be going to summer day camp with one overnight in August.

As much as I have my moments of frustration--mostly with the fighting between children and the messy house--I realize that these are the glory days with our kids.  They all play together.  None of them hate us yet or roll their eyes at spending time with us.

We went to Highbanks last week and Craig and I sat in the shade on a log with our feet in the river while the three boys played in the water together, happily, for over an hour.  The wind blew through the trees, sunlight filtering down onto those three messy heads of hair, and I had one of those moments where I realized just how great I've got it.

It's a lot great.

After Two Months, A Short Post About Poop

"I will never dook in the woods," said Luke on the walk to school yesterday.

"I will always dook in the woods," said Henry.

"Dook, dook, dook," said Silas.

I just looked up dook at this awesome website to make sure I was spelling it correctly. It seems my boys have coined a new verb for pooping.

And all of these things say so much about each one of us.

P.S. If Craig had been there, he would have started singing a catchy little ditty about dook. I'm sure it would have featured Luke.

Straight Into the New Year--With a Wimper

Well, there went six weeks--boom!--and not just any six weeks. Winter vacation. Christmas Eve. Christmas day. Craig's birthday. Silas's second birthday. New Year's Eve. New Year's day. The dreaded/beloved return to school. (Dreaded by children, beloved by parents.)

Winter break involved a lot of fighting between Luke and Henry. Between a few viruses, we didn't get out enough, and everyone was crabby. We tried to go to an open gym and it had been cancelled. We tried to go bounce at a trampoline place and it was sold out. We went to the art museum on New Year's Eve afternoon for our big celebratory outing, and it had closed early for a wedding. Silas was super sick on his birthday, and ended up insisting on sitting beside his turtle birthday cake on the couch while watching Barney, screaming at anyone who asked nicely for a slice of chocolate with buttercream.

I wanted to have a few pictures as a consolation prize at the very least, but our camera battery charger is nowhere to be found. The only pictures from the past six weeks are in my mind.

But you know what? It was enough. There were enough good moments during all of that. I remember how sweetly Luke and Henry thanked us for all of their gifts. I remember our sunny family walk on Christmas day. I remember that we drove back to the art museum right when they opened on New Year's day, stopping for breakfast first, and enjoyed ourselves at a nearly empty museum.

This is parenting for me. And come to think of it, life. There is a lot to slog through, I'm not gonna lie, but those good moments? They really do make it better. And those bad moments? They always seem a lot funnier when I write about them on the blog.

Christmas Card Photo Fail #3

What's going on here? Why are you being so nice to me?