Because I was busy the past 37 days...

Okay, okay.
I promised I would keep this up and I have failed.
I can show you why...
Broken leg... LEFT broken leg. Yes, dearies, the Thursday before spring break, the kid runs down a hill and fractures his tibia. And because I'm the best mommy out there, I rushed to the local bookstore so I could get an anatomy book so he can study up on bone structure for his first step to becoming an orthopedic surgeon... and then I gave him a hug and some ice cream.

So, we still went to Florida. No sand, no water... but, we could go to Disney. And let me tell you, Disney in a wheelchair is pretty sweet. I recommend it highly.

But then, you can take kids to Disney, but you can't force them to like it. Here's Riley dissing Mickey:

Owen ended up having fun, but he was pretty pissy for the first hour (or three). Here is in in line for It's a Small World and he's just mad about... um.... well, at the time it was really important like he doesn't want to have arms or all I ever want to eat for the rest of my life is popcorn...

But, they did have a good time at the Brevard County Zoo. Owen fed some birds:

And some giraffes:

Riley did not:
He did have a pretty rocking birthday though. All it took was cake, a little mini-golfing, and some 50-cent rides at the mall. Sweeeeet.

But Owen's favorite part? Yup. Fruit Loops.

Happy Anniversary Too!

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Happy Birthday Nana!

Happy Birthday to you,
Happy Birthday to you,
Happy Birthday dear Naaaaannnnnaaaaa,
Happy Birthday to you!


So, here are the one-of-a-kind artistic masterpieces they made for you. They are in the mail... on their way. You know, these boys are so darn busy, they just hadn't made it to the post office early enough.
Happy Anniversay too.... 40 years! (Riley said, "Four or Forty!?!" when I told him and he made a face like that was just unimaginable. He's impressed.)
We will see you in a few short weeks.... lots of love to you!

At the table...

Riley - A little ice cream (well, sherbert) after school yesterday.
Uh, the hair? It might have been the hat. It might just be genetics.

Owen - a little dancing at the dinner table...
a little ice cream sandwich.
That's true dinner theater.
The lips? Uh, it's either the red pepper he ate or the lipstick he stole from my purse. Wouldn't put it past him...

From Birthdays to Basketball

Owen's half-birthday!

My sweet 3 1/2 baby all proud and embarrassed. What a wonderful, funny, and lovely child he is.

We had muffins, we sang...

"We bring you flowers for love and joy, birthday child todaaa-yyy.."

There's more to that song, but I cry every time so I miss the rest.

And then....

a little evening b-ball, brothers at their best...

It was a good day.

What? It's 5 am? Time to get up....

First it was Riley, beside my bed with a desperate face.

"Can I come in, Mommy?"

"If you'll sleep..." was my mumbled reply.

Less than a minute later...

The loudest whisper - "MOM!"

Owen, with a desperate face.

We are squished and layered, like a flaky croissant. Like pie crust. Like strata in a rock face.

It's fine if they keep quiet.

Course they don't. Followed by threats of leaving the bed - me, them, everyone.

Chris gets up to shower, his escape.

When they laugh too much, I get up in a huff and stomp down the stairs to sleep in Riley's bed.

His pillow stinks and I can still hear them laughing above.

They come down and I go back up to a hot shower.

It's now 5:57 am.

I have a pretty important meeting this morning, then a, you know, regular hectic school day, followed by a PTO-provided dinner and three hours of Parent-Teacher conferences.

I won't be home until after 8 pm tonight.

They bug me but I miss them. They squish me but I love it. They love me and I laugh at their faces.

I need another snow day.

Owen-isms

Yesterday morning, in the upstairs closet while I was getting dressed:

"Mom! You have a butt on your shoulders!"

This morning, upstairs and coloring in a little dinosaur book:

"Mom! I gave this dinosaur a blue penis!"

Owen makes me laugh so hard. Where does he come up with these things? Why does every sentence start with "Mom!"?