Ummm... tastes good mom

This weekend has been so productive.

Friday Night

Selected the carpet for the basement.



Saturday

Went to tumble tots class.

Looked at floor tiles.

Shopped for Easter.

Ate Reeses Peanut Butter eggs in the car on the way home from Target (see the evidence in this picture).

More evidence in Bro's hair.  Bro kept saying, "Umm... tastes good mom.  Ummmm... tastes good mom," the whole time he was eating the Reeses cup.

Somewhere over the course of the past few weeks, Bro has decided that he will pose for the camera.  Here he is showing off his new sunglasses.

I had a list of things to buy for Easter.  These were the items on my list.  Very reasonable, don't you think???

... Dear Husband had other ideas...  Yes... I blame ALL of this extra candy on him.

Plus, we have these items from our visit to the Peeps store.

Regretfully, we did not celebrate Earth Hour this year, like we did last year.  Instead, Lulu had a friend over and they watched the Kids Choice Awards and Dear Husband bottled some wine.  Ugh, I felt so guilty... with lights on all over the house.  :-(

Tomorrow?  We hope to dye eggs and make our traditional Easter basket cupcakes... a tradition that has been in my family LONG before Martha Stewart came up with the idea.  I'll keep you posted!

Basement = No Progress

Do you remember the deal?

Dear Husband was going to do three things with the basement... that is... (1) tile in front of the fireplace, (2) paint, and (3) carpet. 

Deadline?  {{Yes, there is a deadline now.}}  April 15 - tax day.

So, mid-February {{when we had all of that snow}} I took the kids to my mom's house for the day. 

I came home.

He had....

... ripped the trim from the basement bathroom door {{yes, the now infamous basement bathroom as mentioned in the Marriage Ref post - guess no one is using this bathroom anytime soon}}.  Was this on the "official" to-do list?  No.

Ahem.

Moving on.

A few days later he had...

Tiled?  No.

Painted?  No.

Carpeted?  No.

He had... ripped of the drywall from the top half of the basement.  And... after that... he ripped down the bottom half.  Now, he is redoing the walls beside the fire place. 

Here is his explanation... as best I can understand:

Bathroom trim:  It is not on there correctly and is uneven.
Basement dry wall:  It was uneven.
Fireplace wall:  No one sets a fireplace in a cubby hole... the wall needs to be flat/flush.

He tried to appease me with this little goody...

... a homemade bird feeder.  You can't tell but it has little perches and everything.  Okay... fine... I'm NOT mad... but the deadline still sticks.

Are You An Equal Opportunity Employer?

Now, I know that some of you are really NOT going to like this post… but in our family… this stuff is funny… NOT to be taken seriously… it’s all just a running joke… nothing more… nothing less… just some simple humor to get us through the day...


OMG – I hesitate to even write this ‘cause you are all going to think that I am the worst wife ever… but here goes…

Let’s go back a few years…

I grew up in a home where the chores were pretty much split up by gender. Mom did the “inside the house” stuff and dad did the “outside of the house” stuff.  I don't know why they did it that way... they just did.

So, mom (for the most part) did cooking, cleaning, and childcare while dad (for the most part) took out the trash, cut the grass, and made sure that the cars had fresh oil.

This seems to be a fairly simple way to divide up the chores, in my opinion. This works out great for me because I have absolutely NO desire to cut grass or change oil.

Currently, Dear Husband does all of the outside stuff and will not let me do it… wouldn’t let me go near the lawn mower, weed wacker, or any such device. He fixes the house. He fixes the cars… and so on.

As it just so happens, he also has a knack for cleaning and childcare… and cooking too.

Mostly, his only issue is the trash. I simply do… not… take… out… the… trash… 'cause (as I have been known to say) that’s the boy’s job... and there simply is NO logical reason why I don't take out the trash... I know. Sorry – sorry – I know that some of you are just cringing… there is a point to this…. and it is funny… so feel free to keep reading…

Sometime this past summer… Dear Husband had the car parked on the driveway and he was fixing stuff under the car. I was leaning out the 2nd story kitchen window asking him if he had picked up something from the grocery store… he rolled out from underneath the car on his little creeper and said {{with a smirk}}, “isn’t that a girl’s job?”

Ha ha ha ha… to which I replied… “nope THAT’S a boy’s job too.” {{evil witch laugh here}}

Dear Husband, thinking that he was going to beat me at my own game, asked, “What EXACTLY is part of the girl’s job?”

Not wanting to lock myself down to a certain j-o-b, I cleverly replied… after some thought… “breastfeeding – that’s it – breastfeeding is the girl’s job.” {{proud smile}}

That is, breastfeeding WAS the girl’s job until NOW…

Check out this page on Milkmen: Fathers Who Breastfeed. I never, ever, ever knew that it was possible.

Can you believe it????? I cannot wait to tell Dear Husband!!!!! He is going to strangle me when I tell him!!!!!! ;-) Breastfeeding doesn’t have to be the girl’s job anymore… "the boy can breastfeed too!" {{and you CAN quote me on that}} Fabulous!!!!!

Um... so... I like to try to end these posts with a question... you know... to promote responses from my Grandma readers.

Here goes...

Who does the breastfeeding in YOUR home???? 

ha ha ha ha I couldn't resist!

If You Give Your Husband Some Grapes

Yep - Dear Husband makes his own wine. While I am a big fan now, this took some getting used to. The first batch that he ever made was started in the basement and bottled at his brother's house. I wanted nothing to do with it. I mean, I felt like we were freakin' makin' moonshine out of our house. Then, Dear Husband bottled the wine. Then he brought it to give away as a hostess gift at a New Year's party (mortifying). Low and behold - he was the talk of the party. Everyone was interested in his wine. Who knew?

This time, I agreed that he could start a bigger batch and house it in our kitchen in the 5 gallon drum.

I feel like this whole process is like that book If You Give a Mouse a Cookie.

So, here is my version of making wine, written in the story style of If You Give a Mouse a Cookie.

If you give Dear Husband some grapes, then he is going to want to make wine out of it.

If you let him make wine then he is going to ask for some wine bottles.

If you give him some wine bottles (thanks neighbors) then he is going to want to rinse them.

If you let him rinse the bottles then he is going to want to super-wash and sterilize them.

If you let him wash and sterilize the bottles then he is going to want to fill them.

If you let him fill the bottles then he is going to want to cork them.

If you let him cork the bottles of wine then he is going to want to store them.

If you let him store the wine then he is going to want Napmom to create some cool labels for them. (I'm working on that part.)

If you let him label them, then he is going to want to... drink it all?????

Funny story = I told complained to Dear Husband that this is the most redneck thing I have ever done. Then we started talking about the corker machine (pictured above). He said that it reminded him of the machine that you use to make bullets. He was kinda saying this in a way the insinuated that I wouldn't know what he was talking about. I assured him that I had, in fact, made bullets before and I knew what the machine was like. He replied, "Oh really? You've made bullets? Then this is far from the MOST redneck thing that you have ever done... I mean... if you have made bullets before." Whatever.

Farmer's Market... finally

I finally made it to the local Farmer's Market. It was worth the trip. The Farmer's Market is open every Saturday from sun up 7:00 a.m. till I can't remember exactly about noonish.

I had been forewarned that there isn't much produce this time of year. Still, I had a great time.

Check out these apples gourds apple gourds. Apparently you can paint them and keep them as decorations or even make a bird house out of them.

Toad houses, in case you are wondering.

The local Horticulture Society had lots of plants and herbs to choose from.

This guy (not pictured) is a beekeeper and had a honey stand. Look closely at his stand for the Visa/Master Card sign. These guys take credit cards. Who knew?

Bro had to have his blood drawn today so mommy got him an oatmeal cookie for breakfast.

More herbs from a local farmer.

Oh sweet heaven - they sell coffee. I was told that the beans are not grown locally (DUH - I'm glad they cleared that up for me), but they are ground and packaged locally. This farmer also had tea available and the herbs for the tea were, according to him in fact, grown on his farm.

More flowers and plants from local farmers.

After the Farmer's Market, we hopped over to Fairy Grandmother's house. Bro ate some banana while we waited for her to come back from the gym...




... and we kept Dear Husband company while he prepared Fairy Grandmother and Luvs2Boat's boat for the Blue Angels' flyover.

Conclusion: Loved, loved, loved the Farmer's Market. Will go back again. Can't wait for some local produce to arrive (tomato, fruits, yum).

Mother's Day recap (part 2)

After we hid our letterbox, we drove over to the water side of QW park.

And, then we walked down to the dog beach. QW park is a dog lover destination with a designated, fenced-in dog park as well as a dog beach. The dogs can run off of their leashes and out into the water at the dog beach. There were lots of dogs (and owners) at the park this day.

Those of you who know me well will find this next part very funny.

Ahem...

On the way back to our car, Napmom (of ALL people) stepped in dog poop. After attempting to wash the poop off of my shoe in this puddle,

... Dear Husband scraped the poop out of my shoe crevices with a small twig. Good times!

Why me? Why me?

Overall, I think that this was my best Mother's Day ever!

Did I tell you that a bird pooped on me once... while I was on my way to a job interview. Luckily, it wasn't much poop and I was able to fling it off of my shoulder. Plus, I got the job too.

Hit me with your best shot. What is your best poop story?

Mother's Day recap (part 1)

Ahem... about a week ago I celebrated a most marvelous Mother's Day... ahem... with my mom (et al). Remember... ahem... I wanted to share the pictures with you... ahem. Well, I have them now! Look what a fun day we had.


Greetings from QW park.

The first part of our day included a picnic lunch and time on the playground.



Look at all of the yummy food that Fairy Grandmother packed - we are so spoiled.



Lulu relaxed in the sun.



Bro... played with... something.

Everyone took turns flying Fair Grandmother's kite.

We whittled our own stamps for our letterboxing hobby, using erasers and wood whittling tools.

Fairy Grandmother gave Bro a bottle before we left to find a potentially hidden letterbox (or perhaps hide our own).

Luvs2Boat and Dear Husband looked at the clues to find the letterbox,

and led us down this path.

We looked and looked for the hidden letterbox, but didn't find it. (We thought that we wouldn't find a hidden box. Some research on letterbox message boards led us to believe that the owner of the letterbox moved out of State and took her boxes with her.)

So, we hid our own box in a very nearby location.

We checked on Bro before we headed back on the path.

Lulu found this tree...

and talked Dear Husband into climbing on it with her.

Napmom stayed back...

with a very tired Bro.

To be continued.

Are you letterboxing? Remember our hunt last year? Find out more about letterboxing on napmom's letterbox page. My favorite place to find letterbox clues is on Atlas Quest.

Do you letterbox?