They Say Everyone Has a Twin

This weekend the boys and I were vegged out on the couch watching Saturday morning cartoons.

There are many parts of parenting that are no where near the Hallmark visions that danced in my head pre-children, but nothing beats cuddling on the couch, sharing a blanket...and two quiet-not making a mess-angelic-sitting still-distracted little boys.

A commercial with Shaquille O'Neal came on advertising spray-on Gold Bond and my newly minted 4 year old got huge eyes and suddenly yelled out:

4 Year Old: Hey that looks like Uncle Don!

4 Year Old: Mom, he looks just like Uncle Don!!!

It was so funny and adorable.  So far all I can come up with is they are both quite tall...and have a mustache.
Don't worry I labeled the comparison so you won't get them mixed up.

**PS - I'm trying to convince my BIL to shave his head and carry around a basketball for Halloween.**

It's Alive!

I may or may not have covered in my blog that I have the black thumb of death and have limited abilities in keeping things of the plant variety living.  Which leads to an overenthusiastic amount of happiness of having one seemingly happy thriving plant (and one still technically alive and green - thriving would be a stretch).

So when my littlest farmer decided to harvest leaves off my houseplant I was less than impressed, angry, heart broke, enraged, distraught, full of negative emotional response.  A stern lecture and and warning did not help.

My plant was the victim of a repeat offender.

The Big D will proudly smile, raise his hand, and say "me - I'm do it!" when asked why there are more of mommy's plant leaves on the ground.  So I can' t promise that it won't happen again.


I'm so sorry plant - please live.

*It is 1 year later and my plant is alive and thriving.  Also rarely harvested. I bought the boys their own plants to help take care of

..so far its working.

A Nicer House

Earlier this week, as requested by the boys', we stopped in on a Great Aunt for a visit.  Apparently a long overdue visit as they enjoyed themselves so much they didn't want to go home.  The next day following our visit began a relocation discussion.

Pre-Schooler:  Where are we going? 

Me: We are going home. 

Pre-Schooler:  Why are we going home? 

Me: Because that's where we live. 

Pre-Schooler: Well...I don't want to live there. 

Me: Where should we live then? 

Pre-Schooler:  Well...we could live with Brenda! 

Big D: Yay! Bwenda! 

Me:  Why don't you want to live at our house? 

Pre-Schooler:  Because our house is not nice. 

Pre-Schooler: But, Brenda's house is really nice, we should just live with her. 

Big D:  Yay, Live Bwenda! 

Me:  Why isn't our house nice? 

Pre-Schooler:  Well...its not as nice as Brenda's.  We will live there now. 

Big D:  Go Bwenda's now?

In my defense...though Brenda's house may in fact be nicer than mine...I feel it is at least in part due to her having grown up children and not Toddlers.  Also further inquiry into what constitutes "nice" was found to be "no toys all over the floor in a mess".  Which leads me to bet that niceness exists in the home that small children do not.