Dude! That isn’t real grass!

When I went to pick C up from school today his teacher pulled me aside to tell me what C had done on the playground.

Teacher: Today on the playground the other teacher saw C with his pants down, shaking his booty.


Teacher: We spoke with him about it and told him it was not ok and to not do it again.

Me: Ugh…..oh man.

Teacher: We told him we had to tell you about it and he was pretty upset.

Me: I will talk with him about it and let him know it is not ok.

I went over to C and asked him why he pulled his pants down.

C: I had to go pee.

Me: Why were you shaking your booty?

C: I had to make sure all the pee was out of my penis.

Me: ::::::sigh:::::

We both walked back over to the teacher and I asked her if C is aware of where the bathroom is when they are outside.

Teacher: He knows where it is. He has used it before. Why?
Me: He said he had his pants down because he had to pee.

Teacher: Oh my…..

Me: Yeah…..So………ummmmm…..C, don’t ever pee outside again, ok?

C: All I wanted to do was water the ground so flowers would grow!

Teacher: Oh…….::::suppressing a laugh::::

Me: DUDE!!! That isn’t even real grass!!

And it is not. It is that mushy astroturf playground looking “grass”. As far as I know, it doesn’t need to be watered in any way.


Hoochies in classroom 101, AKA ‘The blackest day in history’.

C is my most favorite boy in the whole entire world. He is funny. He is sweet. He hugs me a lot and likes to snuggle. He tells me he loves me all the time. He is adorable. photo-8

See….adorable!! He is never going to be hateful to me. He is probably going to live with me forever and I am ok with that. If for some reason he does meet some hoochy and move away you can bet your butt I’ll be that creepy mom in the I’ll Love You Forever book. You know her, she drives across town and uses a ladder to climb in her grown son’s room to rock him to sleep. That will be me. Creepin around town with a ladder on my roof. I will not be ashamed. I’ll own my creepiness because C is my baby dammit.

The problem I’m having not with my beloved, sweet, innocent, loving C. The problem I’m having is with all the little evil girls in his pre-k class. Not even just the girls in his class….they are in OTHER classes too! WTF?!?! The other day a girl in another class saw him and she stopped to give him a lingering gaze before she entered her classroom. THE NERVE! Where are the father’s to these out of control girls? What do they think this is? The Bachelor? There are no roses here ladies so step off! Back it up! MOVE ALONG! Ok let me back up a step. Clearly my emotions are starting to take over my fingers.

C is a ladies man. He wraps women around his cute little fingers. He has since he was a baby. He has white hair, not blonde but an eye catching white, big blue eyes, an adorable smile and he’s a charmer. He will talk to any lady who smiles at him. My husband LOVES it. He thinks he’s like some sort of alpha male who has created a little mini me to get him chicks or something. He takes great pride in Cooper’s ability to have women wanting to squeeze his little cheeks. I don’t get it. Here you can see Kevin intently listening to C running down the game plan on how to get the check out ladies digits as we walk into Target. photo-9


For a while now there have been several little girls who are always like, “hiiiiiiiiiiii C!” every morning. Even single damn morning. Shouldn’t they be learning to write or read or learn colors or something? They run to give him hugs hello and goodbye. I’ve given them my evil eye many times but it is like they are immune to it or something. I may or may not be known to instantly scoop him up when I see a little 4 year old girl running towards him with open arms. Ok…..ok…..the little girls are cute. I recently read that poll results showed that 4.5 is the age people think children are the cutest. So it is like practically a scientific fact the girls are cute. If they weren’t I’d probably feel different. Ok, who am I kidding? I would NOT feel different no matter if they were cute or not. WHY ARE THEY HUGGING MY BABY!?!?!?!

::::breathing deeply:::::

So, about two weeks ago Kevin and I were picking C up from school. One little girl ran up to give him a picture of a butterfly she made “just for you C”. Another little girl ran up, elbow checked that little girl out of the way, yelled “OH NO YOU DIDN’T JUST GIVE C A PICTURE”, then gave C a picture with even MORE butterflies. Well maybe the elbow check didn’t happen and the words may have only been said in my head but the glare between the girls were there. That shit was for reals. You could cut the girl hating tension with a knife. I was trying to rescue my precious baby from these evil little girls while Kevin was puffing up like an effin peacock with pride that C already has girls fighting over him in Pre-K. There was evil eyes being thrown but it was from me to my husband. It is like he doesn’t see that these girls are trying to STEAL my baby!

I even bought C this shirt as a warning to all these evil little 4 year old girls. I figured it was a little passive aggressive but I’m not above that. 529489_10200451767037544_1667586616_nThe problem is 4 year old girls don’t know how to read (which is clearly because they are too busy hugging my baby instead of learning to read) so the shirt just really only served to make me feel like I was putting on some sort of girl repellant when I got him dressed.

Yesterday, February 11, 2013, is a day I will never forget. It is the darkest day in history. It will be etched in my brain for the rest of my life. Here is how it went down:

Kevin and I were walking out the school door after picking up C. Emma was being picked up by her dad. She was across the parking lot, almost in the car when she saw C. She yelled loudly, “Goodbye C!” while smiling and waving at him. C yelled, “Goodbye Emma! I love you.” OMG! Oh……..my………God. I died. I DIED. I’m dying again typing this. My heart stopped. I couldn’t breath. I had to stop, bend over and put my head between my legs. Where was Kevin while I was about to pass out from heartbreak? Beaming with pride while giving high fives to C, who was asking Emma’s dad for her phone number and if he could have her hand in marriage (cause he’s a gentleman!). That is what they were doing in my head. I was too busy dying of a broken heart and trying to not hyperventilate in the school parking lot to see what they were actually doing but I am pretty sure it was what I described. When I finally got control over my body Kevin and C were already at the car! My heart was ripped out of my body and smashed to smithereens by some obnoxiously cute brown haired little girl in a dress. WTF yo?! W…T….F?

It has been over 24 hours and my heart is still not healed. I may need a barrel of tequila and a straw in the shape of glasses to get me through the night. When I’m well enough I will have to have a conversation with C. The serious kind. It will be about how girls have cooties and that if he even looks at them, let alone hugs them, he will get cooties too. And EVERYONE knows that you can’t get rid of cooties. Having cooties means no more M&M’s and you can’t watch Scooby Doo. He’d be very, very sad if he got cooties and had to give those things up so maybe he should just NEVER look, touch, or speak to another girl for a very long time.

This is my ‘The hoochies in classroom 101 corrupted my innocent baby boy’ emergency kit. photo-10


The day I got my very own Snapped episode.

I don’t know about you but when my husband is home we sometimes get a little rowdy. Do people still say rowdy? It sounds like a word someone would say and you kind of groan and think how old and uncool they are for saying words like that. Anyway, sometimes things get out of hand and we will wrestle a little. When that happens C gets SO upset. K used to get upset, too. I think maybe all kids do when they don’t realize it is just playing, not real. It is completely harmless and if anything, it is just a good cardio workout. Well…..let me give you a little warning about doing that. Let me back up a little bit first.

Some kids are chatty. They are chatty in the check out line. They are chatty when they get their hair cut. They are chatty with a waitress, check out person and anyone who comes to your door. They are particularly chatty to their teachers. (Trust me! Teachers know a LOT more than they’d like and even more than you think they do!! Have fun at your next parent teacher conference with that info in your head!) Kids are chatty with strangers they see in the store. For example, C and I were walking in Target to find K. A lady was passing us and C told her very loudly that he farted. :::sigh::: Kids don’t understand TMI and that can be embarrassing at times. They are pretty honest with what they say. At least honest to them. They sometimes see things differently than us and will remember it differently as well.

Today in the car after school we were bringing home J, K’s bff (who also happens to be C’s best best best friend and is like our second daughter). C was sharing his super duper awesome news with her. He was really excited. Admittedly the news is awesome. He then out of nowhere told her, “My daddy hits my mama.” OH MY GOD!!!!!!! Ohhhhh. Myyyyy. God. Of course I was like, “Oh no! No he doesn’t!” and K was, also, confirming it was not true. All I could think was we sound like a bunch of people trying to hide something with all our strong denials. I realized that C probably remembers us play fighting and to him it meant his dad hits his mom. I was mortified! Who else has he said this to? Probably his teacher!! :::::head desk:::: I told him that we were just playing and that daddy would NEVER hit me. He promptly ended Kevin and my play fighting ever again. Now I’m going to be thinking about everything I do around him, how he will see it and in turn how he will relay the information to others. I don’t want to be the dead denial horse here but I want to say that in all the years Kevin and I have been together he has NEVER hit me. If he had (or ever did) you’d be watching me on my very own special episode of Snapped on the Oxygen Network.

I love your…..wait….what?

I was sitting on the couch which meant that C was sitting so close he was practically sitting on my kidney. He thinks both of our butts will fit on one cushion which is a lovely thought….that my butt is small. In reality we both don’t actually fit well on one cushion but he sort of wedges himself under me so that we both fit. I’m used to it at this point. I think he must think I’ll run away or do something super fun and if he isn’t directly on top of me he might miss it. I was about to get up so I had to shove him over so that at least half his leg was on the middle cushion. I ruffled his hair, kissed him on his bruised and bumped forehead* and said, “I love your guts” to him.

C: I love your poops.

Me: What! I told you to stop saying poop for everything.

C: I didn’t. I said I love your pooooops. ::::saying this loud and slowly as if I’m 95 and can’t hear::::

Me: My poops? That makes no sense. Stop saying poop. I’m getting up, move over.

C: No. Silly Mama! I said I love your boobs.

Me: Oh…well….er…….um….hmmmm……thanks?

C: You are very welcome.

Me: Ahhhhhh……well……ok……how about maybe next time we don’t talk about my boobs ok? Can you perhaps just love something else? My shining personality, my brown hair, my sense of humor….just, you know, something besides my boobs.

C: Of course I can. Say it again.

Me: I love your guts.

C: I love your prickly legs.

:::::sigh:::: Even when his dad isn’t home I’m still getting hammered about my prickly legs! I don’t see anything wrong with an every other day shave in the winter! Plus, I have only had laser treatment under my arms, not my legs, which I hope to have at some point. Until then I guess it is ok if he loves my prickly legs as long as he doesn’t say he loves my boobs in public. ugh.

*He has 2 knots, a bruise and some sort of scratch on his forehead. His shins used to attract this kind of wear and tear but now it is his forehead. It is like his head is too heavy for his body and just flops over and hits stuff. I don’t know. He got a knot at school yesterday and even his teacher was stunned. She said he never told her he hit his head on anything and he never cried. People must think I’m a terrible parent when they see his head. Maybe I should make him wear a helmet everywhere.


I should mention that he has had speech since before he was 2 so while I can understand him almost all the time there is still 2% of the time that I don’t really catch what he says the first, second, or twentieth time I have him repeat it.

A little light reading.

C was playing in another room while I was watching tv. I heard, “Can somebody help me?”.

Me: What do you need help with?

C: I need a little help here.

Me: With what? <—said as I got off the couch.

C: I’m stuck.

I did what any good parent will do, take a picture before rescuing him. I don’t even know how he got stuck under the ottoman. photo-7

When he isn’t squeezing his little body in spots where he gets stuck he likes to do a little night time reading.

photo-6I didn’t know I had a 4 year old who has a passion for 9th grade ap English reading. I asked where he got the book. He said his sisters room. (True.) I asked if he read it. He said yes. (Define read.) I asked what it was about he told me a dog. (Possibly not true but there may be a dog involved.)

Stop licking my arm you weirdo!

I was taking a little break after we arrived home this afternoon before I started the evening things around here. C wanted a snack before dinner so I told him to get a yogurt. He sat down next to me and I opened it up. As I ripped the top off a splash of yogurt got on the arm of my shirt. As a side note, today I can’t be trusted with food. I took a sip of my Diet Coke and somehow the straw jumped from my lips. I ended up with drops of soda on my shirt….right before a business meeting. ugh. Then I was eating a snack and dropped food on my shirt again! Thankfully that was after my meeting but not before I searched all over town for new curtains. I’m a mess. Anyway, I dropped a splash of yogurt and before I could grab a tissue to wipe it off I felt something strange on my arm through my shirt. I looked down and C was LICKING THE YOGURT OFF MY SHIRT! Have we turned into a family that can’t afford to let one drop of yogurt go to waste? I did what I had to do. I pushed his head off me and I said, “Yo! Stop licking my arm you weirdo!” I’m starting strong and starting early. I’m for sure going to cinch the Mother of the Year 2013 award. Watch out world!

Nothing but a smile.

This morning around 9am C and I were getting dressed. My doorbell rang so I looked out my upstairs window to see who it was. I saw the FedEx truck and knew he had my new Apple product. I threw my robe back on because it is too cold to be flashing the FedEx guy. It was only like 2 degrees above a freezing tundra of hell and my boobs don’t look good at that temp. I tied my robe firmly and opened the door. I had the door half way open but trying to keep it as closed as possible with my leg. I was trying to sign the little signature thing and keep our dog Ruby in the house. The FedEx guy was looking at me kind of strangely. I thought maybe I was flashing some skin or boobs or something but I didn’t feel any cool breeze so then I thought maybe his face was just frozen in that expression. I’m sure his mother warned him of that. I took the box from him and thanked him. I then turned and saw C standing next to me……naked as the day he was born. Not pj’s. No underwear. No slippers. Nothing but a smile.

Happy Anniversary and Thank You

I am not an emotional person. Not much makes me cry. I’m pretty indifferent to a lot of things that make people sad, angry, happy, excited, and on and on. I can pinpoint exactly when I decided to be this way. Not something I plan on discussing here but I remember it. It was a choice. No one guided me in the way I decided to be. I am probably more different than anyone in my family. I came into it all on my own. I feel like there was a turning point when I decided to raise myself and do me my way. I was young and it took a few years to have the freedom to do it, raise myself, but when I was able to, it was freeing.

I can count on one hand the number of times I cried over my dad suddenly passing away. I have what is either a blessing or a curse because I can just shut it down. I just shut feelings down and do what needs to be done. Yesterday made 5 years. I wasn’t upset yesterday but I’m strangely upset today. Probably because my husband and I were out for an early anniversary (a day early) dinner when I found out. I don’t know. I’m sad that Cooper won’t know who he is. That all Keileigh has is pictures of the two of them when she was little. I have a few things of his but that is all I physically have. Everything else is memories and it is hard to pass those down. I’m not even a huge family person but there are two people I want my kids to know. My dad and my grandma. They won’t know one and my grandma lives so far away I don’t know that they will know her either. I think some of my most fond memories growing up is with my dad and my grandma. When I think about being happy when I was little that is what I think of.

71958_1678711608464_3999459_nThis is me and my dad. Obviously I’m the adorably smushy one and he’s the one in the terrible 1979 shirt. 😉

I felt like I never got to see my dad much growing up. I do remember the summers I did get to stay there were the best. I’m not a country person at all but that is where he lived. I remember just swimming (before my fear of fish and not seeing what was in the water, you won’t catch me in a lake now) and having fun. He didn’t have a lot of money but I don’t remember that ever stopping us from doing really fun things like pick shells out of my grandpa’s driveway and watching the fireworks at the lake. We’d get to go stay with my Uncle Jimmy and at the time Aunt Janice. After they divorced we’d still go see Aunt Janice. They were always fun. I only got to do that when I was with my dad. I’d get to spend time with my godparents and that was always amazing. I always wanted to live with my dad and finally did when I was 15. It was a decision that pretty much shaped my future.

Living with my dad was the fondest memories I have. I look back and the friends I had, the things we did, the crazy crazy things we did (what were we thinking?!?! Who goes to the waterfalls to jump?), school was fun and no pressure, hanging out at Curt’s house, having my friends drive all the way to my house because I didn’t have a car which was cool because gas was like 5 cents a gallon, rollerblading for hours between my house and Brenna’s, going to the lake at night (my dad lived on the lake) with my friends without the fear of being abducted which is insane to me now because it was a campground and who knows who could have been out there at midnight, being allowed to have friends who were guys, like Pete, come through my window at night because I was trusted and my step mom and dad knew we’d just joke around and watch movies, being trusted to go and have fun (even if my friends were guys) as long as I was in the driveway by curfew, talking with Sarah about stupid boys and a million other things, walking all over Superior even in the dead of winter, laughing all the time with my bff Krissy (who is even the godmother to K) and messing around with her super adorable little brother Nick (who passed away almost a year ago)….it was everything being a teenager should be about. It was fun and amazing. I had a 16th birthday party that was so inexpensive but was probably more fun than anything you’d see on any MTV Sweet 16 special. At that time I felt richer than any poor person had a right to. Sure I got in trouble here and there but I didn’t go to jail or anything. I’m pretty sure I don’t remember anything illegal happening. Ok….wait….well…..my daughter reads this so maybe I should stop there. 😉 The point is that I had a wonderful time during those years and they wouldn’t have happened if my dad hadn’t been so cool about letting me be me and trusting me enough to not be stupid.

July 27, 1996 I went with my friend Brenna to our friend Billy’s house. We were going to go to the fair that night and see some crazy hair band, Firehouse I think. Billy had his friend Kevin over. We’d never met him. I feel like we all were just one huge group of friends and looking back it does seem like everyone knew everyone else. Sarah lived there her whole life and I was fortunate enough to have a cousin who was my age and all her friends became my friends, too. Anyway, Billy had a friend over we’d never met before. He told us to be nice because he was out of rehab or some program. Look 16 years ago was a long time. I can’t be expected to recall everything. I do remember we were washing Billy’s truck because, let’s face it, who wants to go out in a dirty truck? haha So country. Kevin sprayed me with the hose and I was pissed. I hated him. He also made a Suzy Homemaker comment to me. Thinking about it I do think that maybe he wanted me to stab him. Anyway, I hated him most of the day. Somewhere along the day I realized we’d have to spend all day and night together and we should just get along. I’m pretty sure by the end of the night we were an “item” or whatever we called it then, or whatever it is called now.

photo-5This was the day Kevin rode his bike, like a real bike that you pedal, 25 miles from my house to his house. The back of the picture says summer 1996 so this must have happened maybe a month or so after we met. From Duluth, MN all the way to the country of Superior, WI. Over one of the bridges that goes over Lake Superior, up and down big hills….basically it is like saying he walked to school in the snow both ways. lol He must have really liked me. I like to think he’d still do that for me. Ahhh, he looks so young here but totally in the 90’s style. Those glasses and No Fear shirt give it away.

Today makes 13 years since we decided to get married. In total it has been 16 years. Had I not been allowed the freedom to have the time of my life when I was 16 with the friends I had I would have never met Kevin. It has been a tough time but anything worth having, maintaining, saving usually involves tough times. People give up too easily and there have been times we’ve given up. I’m not saying there are times people should give up, there are. Never remain some place you aren’t happy. Never show your children, by example, a dysfunctional relationship because that is what they will consider normal. The difference is we decided that it was worth it to build bridges, get over them, and move on. There are times I complain about Kevin but it isn’t often. He can be annoying like any husband or any wife. I don’t continually put him down or bash him with my friends or family. I don’t vent about him and his every move. I don’t do that because he is my best friend. He’s known me for 16 years. He knows the good and the bad. He doesn’t know just what others see, he knows the whole package. That is more than I can say about anyone else in my life. There is no one in my life that I’d want to know me better than him. I choose to be with him and he chooses to be with me. He is a good man. We don’t just stick it out for our kids or because we are too scared to move on. We grew up together. We became adults together. I wouldn’t have had the chance to do any of that had it not been for my dad. He let me move in with him. He let me be free. He let me make my friends and live my life. He trusted me. Without all of that I wouldn’t have met Kevin and we wouldn’t be married for 13 year.

So Happy Anniversary Kevin…..and thank you, Dad.


You camp like a girl.

I had writers block. Funny stuff happened but I couldn’t think about how to write it out. That is where I’ve been the past few weeks. In writers block prison. It happens to the best of us I suppose.

I have a ton of things to blog about if I had the strength to download pics off my phone. For instance, all the remaining Jack adventures. The problem is I have the flu and that is never fun. I started to connect my iphone to my computer so I could transfer pics but I couldn’t find the plug. By couldn’t find I mean it wasn’t sitting next to me and the thought of getting up to go find it made my head hurt. Heck, I felt nauseous just thinking about setting K’s new Macbook Pro up to itunes. I had to tell her I needed to feel better before I did that. I am such a huge germaphobe. I carry sanitizer with me everywhere. I cringe when I touch menus or doors. Do you know how germ filled menu’s are? If I can’t get past germy menu’s I’m sure you can understand why I refuse to go to a buffet restaurant. I avoid doing unsanitary things like licking carts, unlike C who thinks his tongue belongs on the handle of Target carts. Still….I end up with the flu. He is bouncing off walls and forcing me to play Hungry Hungry Hippo. I still have to keep on keeping on. Shit isn’t going to get done if I don’t do it. Since I have to do 100% of everything I can’t really just lounge in bed, spend the afternoon hugging my toilet or muttering to myself how wonderful the cool tile on my bathroom floor feels on my face. Errands have to be run, dinner has to be made, children need to be taxied to and fro and someone has to be effin super mom around here. An example, the lights in Target were out. I don’t know why. Not all the lights. Just 90% of them. The power was on though. I don’t know what the deal was. Just the lights around the perimeter and a few scattered through out the store were on, which was not enough light to see by in some areas. A weaker person would have called it a day but not me. I clung to my cart like it was my life support* so I wouldn’t fall over on the floor crying and pushed my way through the store. My phone had my shopping list and doubled as my flashlight. Some aisles were so dark I had to have a flashlight to see what I needed. I imagine it would be a shoplifters paradise. Thinking about it I have no clue why they didn’t just close the store. It was a mess but I pushed on. I bought K what she needed for her sleepover (not at my house), got a few dvd’s to tide me over during the little time I have to lay around feeling sick and sorry for myself, dog food, a new pillow, and a mustache mug. I forgot flu medicine. I came home and took a little break before I had to head back out.

Why did I have to venture back out? Because C wanted to go camping. He keeps bugging me. He caught me at a very weak moment this morning, the room was spinning and I was trying to gather enough strength to lift my head but not vomit at the same time (soooo tough), and asked me once again to go camping. I said ok. If you know me in real life you know that I am not a camping person. I am a city person. I love the city. Tall buildings, traffic, food delivery, cable, internet, air conditioning, Target on every corner with Starbucks nestled inside….I am as much of a city girl as it gets. Living in the suburbs 20 miles from the city is about as country as I can get. I hate small towns. I hate being places where the highlight of your day is going to Walmart. That is probably why I avoid going back to where my family lives (in KY and in WI). If small towns annoy me, the country where you would camp surely would annoy me. Nothing about camping really appeals to me. Maybe a camp fire under the stars making smores but it would have to be a nice 75 degrees, no bugs, and have wifi. I instantly regretted telling him yes. I did what any city gal super mom with or without the flu would do when her 4 year old wants to go camping. I drug my sick butt* to Academy Sports and Outdoor, bought a sleeping bag and tent, then set it up in the seating area of my bedroom (yes my bedroom is so large it has a seating area). photo-41 photo-4275 degrees, check. No bugs, check. Wifi, check. There are stars courtesy of his night time turtle thing and we have a handy dandy smores maker. I don’t think camping could get any better, honestly.

*I sanitized my hands a lot, kept my hands inside of my sweatshirt when touching things like the cart, and avoided being in the store any longer than necessary because I don’t want to just willy nilly pass around the flu bug.

C was a little sad about K going to a sleepover so I promised him I swing by Starbucks on the way home so he could get a hot cocoa and a snack. (I’m all flu? What flu?) He walked in like he owned the place, went right up to the counter and said hello to the barista. She asked how he was doing and he said, “I’m well, thank you.” Notice the proper grammar? He is well instead of good. And the manners! yay! The barista asked what she could do for him and he said, “I’d like a peppermint mocha please.” HAHAHA First of all, I don’t drink that and so I have no clue where he heard peppermint mocha from. Secondly, I would NEVER allow him to get that. What’s next? A shot of expresso? He said it with enough authority and confidence that she actually asked him what size. I was all ummmmm, no, he’ll have a kids hot cocoa. He piped up, “I’d like it at 120 with light whip and non fat milk!” The two baristas got a good chuckle out of him this evening. Here is is waiting for his drink. photo-43


Playing catch up.

Things have been busy around here. I had to finished up the last few things before I graduate (I’m done!). That was time consuming. I finished Christmas shopping but have only wrapped two things. Really I’m two things ahead of where I have been in the past. Usually I’m up all night on Christmas Eve wrapping and swearing I’ll do it earlier next year.

To be honest, I planned on blogging some funny stuff on Friday but then the news of the horrible school shooting broke. It didn’t feel right to blog about funny, pointless things when such a terrible thing was happening.

In the past 24 hours C tried to wash dog poop off a sword in my downstairs bathroom, peed in my tub…..like instead of the toilet, instead of flushing the toilet my mom found him playing in pee water….I could go on. He is killing me. Oh and my mom made a longhorn mad and it charged at her. I was laughing so hard I couldn’t breathe. I’m that type of person. Here is what Jack has been up to.

C was naughty. Really he has been pretty naughty lately. He has told me :::gasp:::: no.  He got out of bed and went in his sister’s room. He has been told almost nightly to stay out of his sister’s bedroom and to stay in his bed. He put on her lipgloss.

photo-35So Jack left him a little reminder note about what he is supposed to be doing.


Another night Jack decided to have a kazoo party. There was a small problem of the kazoos not working. I guess Jack shouldn’t buy the cheapest pack at Party City.


Friday night Jack felt like getting a little wild and crazy. He hopped on a monster truck and took a little drive through the woods.


photo-38I’m not saying Jack is the best artist in the world but he sure knows how to draw a helicopter!

Finally, last night Jack decided to get as naughty as C has been.

photo-39He is the opposite of photoshop. I do enjoy Kevin’s Justin Beiber hair and K’s unibrow. C said K looked like Pablo from the Backyardigans with that blue and orange hat. Jack’s naughtiness was a big hit.