There are a lot of great things about being a Mom. This is one of the best
Thompson, party of FIVE coming December 2013
I could come up with a lame excuse as to why I dropped off the face of the blogging earth these past few weeks. But there is no real reason.
Well there is, but whatever.
Here is what I’ve been thinking about writing about, if, you know, I wasn’t mysteriously absent.
1. The fact that I am house hunting like its my job, even though we have no real plans to move for at least a year. To live on 5 acres further out from town or stay in the middle of it all? That is the question. Oh, and saving pennies for a downpayment…that too
2. The fact that my smart, talented and devastatingly handsome Hubs got not one but TWO new jobs this month? Yup. He’s now officially a real estate agent AND a middle school math teacher (as of this September). Go him!
3. Hubs is turning 30 this month A fact that I don’t often let him forget. However, I also devised a weekend getaway for him to go see a Braves game in the ATL with his friends. I am an awesome wife. (The fact none of his friends ended up being able to go AND that plane tickets shot up by $130 the day we decided to buy them, thus putting the whole trip in danger of not happening like he planned non-withstanding, of course.)
4. This week we sold our patio furniture (that I loved) to make room for two new rocking chairs that Hubs is so patiently repainting for me. The patio table and chairs were the ones Hubs refinished for me a few years ago. I am quite the happy housewife and ready for some summer time sittin’.
5. Honestly. This is something thats been on my mind for a long time: I am so lazy that I refuse to wash dishes before I put them in the dishwasher. Tragic, I know. And bad for the dishwasher that runs twice a day around here. All that is to say: If you come to my house and offer to load the dinner dishes into the dishwasher for this tired Mama I will be forever grateful. Eternally grateful to be spared the chore I hate the most (behind wiping down the high chair and folding laundry, obviously). But I make no apologies for the smell that is a days worth of stinky dishes closed up in a humid dishwasher waiting to be run. Just sayin’.
6. I would be a far more productive woman if I didn’t watch TV after dinner. I’m not even a TV fan, but my butt hits the couch and I can no longer muster the energy to stand back up and do something. I am, getting pretty killer at solving Wheel of Fortune puzzles and like to indulge in the thought that I might actually have a fighting chance on Jeopardy.
7. I don’t have a #7, the TV is distracting me.
8. Lastly, here is a picture too cute not to share. I’d be doing you a disservice if I didn’t share it, really. Enjoy:
Photo by Christi Hamrick
What have yall been up to? Do you have any tips for country vs. city life? Do you beg your husband to repaint furniture for you every few years? What I really want to know is this though, the question of the night: Does your dishwasher stink too?
Please say yes. Even if its a lie.
Jack has been planning his 3rd birthday party since Lucy turned one in November. He had a lot of ideas. Namely, “firemans”, “fire truck”, and “uncle marcus”. (I’m so glad he has such a great hero to look up too!) He also wanted his favorite color, blue; some creatures – namely a cheetah and a rhino (from his obsession with Kratt’s Creatures on PBS) and baseball. You know. Just everything.
Fast forward to about a week before his actual birthday. We we were out of town, celebrating the life and death of my sweet sweet Grandma Dee and exhausted.
Me: “What do you say we just do a cake and only family on Sunday for his party this time?” Knowing that I tend to take things a bit over the top when it comes to planning parties for the kids
Hubs: “Sounds great”!
Fast forward again to TWO DAYS before his party.
Me: “So, just a fireman cake? Right?”
Me: “Ice cream too. We’ll need ice cream. And a few little appetizers, ice tea . . . and Mom can bring balloons?”
One or two shopping trips later, we had a menu that included veggies, cheese and fruit, homemade hummus, sausage dip and I-could-eat-these-till-the-day-I-died ham, swiss and poppy seed sandwiches. And ice cream. And a firetruck cake!
I ran to my sisters house the evening before to make a batch of icing in her stand mixer, and Hubs bakes two 9×13 cakes for me. They weren’t even the same flavor and we looked the other way when one crumbled out of the pan.
The day of the party I dug through the old birthday supplies we had from previous parties and found lots of blue paper napkins, a set of baseball themed party hats and a set of animal shaped paper plates. Jack said it was the “bes party, Mama” and it hadn’t even started yet!
The cake was iced, the food was made, the balloons arrived . . .
. . . . and a few friends and family later, we had a party!
Happy birthday, sweet son of mine! I love you so very, very much.
Happy Birthday to my new three year old!
Because we don’t do fondant around here (mostly because I don’t know how to make it and it tastes gross) this entire fire truck is nothing but cake and icing. LOTS of icing. We baked a 9×13 cake and cut it in half longways to stack for the body of the truck. I cut the top of the cab and the ladder from another 9×13 cake that met an unfortunate end when we tried to take it out of the pan. Everything is stuck together with icing . . . and Jack declared it “the bes take eber, Mama!”