When We Were Six

Well, it was over two months ago, but it's still worth mentioning: We finally did it. We actually planned (and executed!) a friend birthday party for one of our kids. And it only took us six years to pull it off.

Since we have been slacker parents in the past, we decided (albeit unwisely) to go all out for Julia's sixth birthday. Craft table. Fancy drinks. Piñata. Photo Scavenger Hunt. Relay Race. Pizza. The Works. This was the birthday party to end all birthday parties. (Which is why we won't be doing another one for approximately six more years.) Thank goodness for Grandma Linda and her awesome party bags and amaaazing cake. We were already on the verge of exploding from the sheer muchness of it all.

Behold the highlights of this very momentous, stupendous occasion.

Julia and her classmates enjoying 

the pink beverage she requested.

Friends at the craft table.

9 girl party-goers and Mr. Jordan, who didn't bat an eye 

at being the only boy there besides Julia's dad.

What a stud.

Okay, maybe he didn't bat an eye, 

but he may have rolled them once or twice.

Laney getting ready for the relay race...

the kids had to switch laundry, 

feed and change a baby doll, drive a lap in the cozy coupe, 

pick up groceries and put them away, and put the baby to bed. 

Little do they know that their fun, frantic 

little race will soon become the story of their lives.

Getting ready for the piñata.

What's that, you say? We bought an Easter 

piñata for a little girl's birthday party? 

Come on, people, I already told you we were slackers.

Go, Stover Girl, go!

The spoils...

the pizza...

...the presents,

And last but not least, the 

every-girl's-dream-cake by Grandma Linda. 

It was a shame to slice it up, that's all I can say.

Such a happy girl. Thanks, little Miss, for being the 

fun-lovingest, stubbornest, smartest, sweetest, greatest 

little six-year-old we ever could have ordered.

We love you to the moon, 151 million.

For Hire

If you are looking for someone to quickly and fastidiously empty your pantry shelves, thus forcing you to reorganize them, I know just the girl for the job.

She's also great at coloring on the floor with crayon, eating chapstick, and looking perfectly innocent when you know she's not. Email if you are interested, and I will forward her resume.

Papa Don't Preach

Yes, I have had a Madonna song in my head  ever since Miss got dressed up in this little get-up this morning.

And yes, she's gonna keep the baby...

Waiting for Daddy

At our house, it's a happy time for all when Daddy comes home. Lex has naturally joined the club of fans who loudly celebrate when they hear the garage door opening in the evening.

Then we all fight over who gets to talk to him first.

Daze of My Life

While I will openly admit that the number of my once-pristine brain cells has greatly diminished since becoming a mom (and, unfortunately continues to plummet daily) that doesn't mean I have to like it. And I don't. I am getting pretty tired of spacing on plans, starting sentences and not finishing them, and all other general indications that I am 60% Mommy and 40% Space Cadet. Most days, I can pretend well enough to get through, but the sad reality is that my brain has slowly but surely become a giant sieve out of which dates, tasks, and other important information are continually leaking.

Let's explore the events of Thursday:

1. I came really close to not opening the door to the auto-glass guy when he knocked because I didn't recognize the figure through the peephole and totally forgot that he was coming.

2. I missed taking Savanna to her friend's birthday party, despite the fact that the invitation has been on the fridge for weeks, and the event was marked on my calendar.

3. I thought it would be a great plan to make macaroni and cheese with Alexa's soy milk so that she could have some without any digestive issues. I realized a little too late that it was vanilla soy milk that I was pouring into the pan. Savanna gobbled hers up (a rare occurence with any meal other than breakfast) but her friend who had joined us for lunch took one bite and was done. When Van asked if she was going to eat any more, she answered, "Nah. It tastes like graham crackers." (Thus solving the mystery of why Savanna had gobbled hers up.)

4. I dropped half a box of spaghetti noodles on the floor when I got them out to make dinner because I was holding the box upside down. (Darn you, pasta Barilla and your non-closing boxes!)

Oh, brain, will you please come back to me some day?

Here the girls are very kindly picking up my noodle mess 

(without being asked) since I was so fed up at that point 

that I had just left them on the floor while I started dinner.