Christmas Card Photo Fail #3

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

Christmas Card Photo Fail #2

Is that comfortable, Silas?

Christmas Card Photo Fail #1

I made him cry. Those are actual tears.

Mom Evans

Henry loves breakfast. This makes me super happy, because I love breakfast, too. Craig, however, doesn't eat breakfast at all, and Luke eats it reluctantly. Neither like breakfast foods, and the thought of breakfast for dinner disgusts them. But Henry. Oh, Henry. I am revisiting my love affair with breakfast with Henry, making pancakes, dutch babies, omelettes, waffles, poached eggs. We had a six day long pumpkin pancake run. I needed to perfect my recipe, and Henry was game. One morning that we went all out and had pancakes, sausage, and scrambled eggs, he said, "It is like Bob Evans! Mom Evans! And you can eat in your underwear!" High praise, indeed.

The pumpkin pancake run was about as festive as I got this Halloween, though. We usually put up decorations, but instead I made about 30 different pumpkin dishes. I seem to only have figured out how to be the cooking version of Martha Stewart. We did carve jack-o-lanterns from pumpkins that Henry grew himself. It was very exciting. True to form, Luke wanted to buy his pumpkin at the store. "Store bought things are just better!" he proclaimed. So Luke's pumpkin (the roundest one in the picture above) was from the store. I couldn't spoil his Halloween, after all.

This Halloween was so much fun, and I realized that I finally hit that perfect phase where Silas is getting very excited about all the "big kid" activities--he loved trick-or-treating this year--and Luke is still young enough that he enjoys many "kid" activities. We don't have many of these years left, so I am trying to really take the time to enjoy them. Both Luke and Henry are at the same school and we walk nearly every morning, and they both still hang on me, one on either side, and chatter away--yes, it is often about video games or pro wrestling, but I'm taking what I can get.

Here at Mom Evans, we'll serve you in your underwear, so long as we get to eat breakfast together.