a triple birthday and happy birthday kari

Here's the birthday girl with a smile on her face.

This one is just blurry and tiny.

 This guy was at the party.

 And these ones were too.

 Mr. 21 himself:

 And his nephew:

 I asked what was going on here and l.c. said, "I'm keeping him AWAKE!"

Dan and my dad:

 No idea what's going on here:

 My mom and John and Dannell's baby:

They tried to go outside.  That little brown dog is Kirsten's and she LOVES it outside.   Nothing makes her happier than when there are dogs and people in the yard.

Except being in the bed between the middle of her grandparents.  She likes that  quite a lot too.

This spring has been awfully sluggish in arriving.   It's only supposed to be 40s for highs all week.  That's annoying.  Where are the 70s?

 Cake time!

 Oh, and this is the pink ceramic Jesus Kari picked out at the thrift store, along with the little goofy guys my parents gave them.

 At one point, Lydia was holding the pink Jesus over Alicia's head and I asked what she was doing?

"He's protecting her."

Well, then.

Kari, you know what I'm going to say, and it's always the truth:   This family is so better with you in it.  You are a most beautiful girl we have loved since we first ever met you.

You were tiny and bald and adorable, and then you grew into a really quirky little weird kid who kept us guessing.

At preschool one day the teachers took me aside and said, "Val?  She's?"

I said, "I know.  She's a whole new creature again.  You'd think by this point there would be no more surprises right?  Well, we were wrong."

Thank you for being such a beautiful kid.  And thank you for being a great sister, and a superb aunt.

 Thirteen years of you?   Lucky, lucky old us.   love, Mom and Dad and Everybody

friday, saturday

Friday at lunch I went to see if they were getting into Tim's stuff and they weren't even in his room. 

They were in mine!  With the He-Man Castle, no less.

 Yesterday we baked this pink heart cake for Lydia, aka Kari's birthday.  It wasn't her birthday until today, but that's okay.

 And this guy slept over last night:

 And the baby slept over too:

We lit candles and sang, sweet baby of mine:

 And the night ended with this-- a child in a nest on the floor of our room.

We haven't had anyone asleep in a nest for quite a while now.  It was fun.   We watched a movie, and kids kept coming to the room for this and that, and she just kept sleeping.

And now it's Sunday, and we're having a birthday party this afternoon, and it's a great day.  The sun is even trying to peek out.   love you all, Mom, aka Grandma

yeah, well

More trouble with dog poop.

Today I was cleaning the kitchen--washing down cupboards and polishing the chrome on the chairs, doing the floor, and Tim and Julia announced they wanted to go outside and continue scooping dog poop.

"We want to earn some money."

(I pay $5 for half a paper grocery bag.  Do not fill them past half because they will rip. Get a new bag.)

Anyway, before they'd hardly been gone for two minutes, they were back.

And there was some insane story about how Julia had ended up getting hit in the head with dog poop Tim threw.

"Seriously?  What the hell is going on out there?!  We're throwing dog poop now?"

Well, Tim said he was trying to throw the bag over to Julia and he thought the turds inside would weight it down, and they did not.  It sort of flew up and part of the contents spilled out.

Oh, Good LOR-ed.

"So where is she now? I hope in the bathtub."

Yes.

I don't understand.

James later told me he encountered Tim sitting quietly on the couch in the living room and Tim told him about the dog poop accident and said, "Mom hasn't even yelled at me yet."

(As if that's the worst thing that could happen to a person: me yelling.  Pretty sure that's happened like a million times over the years and everybody is fine.)

I told James, "What would I even SAY?  I don't even know where to go with that."

James:  "Yeah, like don't throw bags of dog shit in the air, like that needs to be stated."

Oh, gawd.   Yes, exactly.

Sigh.

Julia, Sweetheart, I am so sorry this happened and you were an amazing good sport.

love you so, Mom

heading for friday

Okay this is a game Lydia, aka Kari picked out for her birthday when she went shopping with Grandma.  I don't remember what it's called, but it's the Dog Crap Game.

(My mom and mother in law are the same in this: On a kid's birthday shopping trip, they don't ask questions or judge.  I understand that and like it.  It's a grandparent thing.)

There's a dice to roll that tells how many times to squeeze the leash handle which progressively moves the little glowing chunk of foam through the dog's guts.   When it pops out, not sure if that indicates winner or loser but there's a shovel for scooping these turds.

The joke is totally on me though. When I saw the kids playing this on Easter at Pam's, I was mildly amused thought this was some bizarre toy of Pam's they were playing with.

Whoopsy, that would be no.  That belongs to you guys.

(Pam, I can hear you laughing, you know.)

They have played with it a lot this week, have to say.

They were even inspired enough to go outside and start cleaning up actual real dog poop today now that the snow is finally melted.

 He had a haircut today. Dang, his hair grows fast.

Notice the leaf chair is gone.  It was picked up by the upholstery guys last week.  It took some people in this family several DAYS to realize it was missing.  

 Tonight was James' basketball banquet.  He was the only sophomore to win an academic award.  I was proud of him, it's true.   The whole occasion was nice, though plenty long, with long, long speeches.

that's him in the orange shoes

Heidi kept Tim, Julia and Lydia with her since Maria was at work.   On the way home I called and told her, "We're on our way home from Dan's basketball concert."

What?

What are you talking about?  How is Dan involved?   Yep, that's me: articulate.

And this child pictured below was so mixed up when I picked the kids up. She wanted to go with us, and started to cry.  She wanted me to pick her up and take her, so when she was in my arms I pointed to Heidi and said, "What will do about Mommy?"

The child looked so confused.

I said, "Should we bring her with too?"

p.j. sobbed, "Mommy come too."

Oh dear.  Life gets so confusing when you're only two years old.   She went back to Heidi and still crying, waved good-bye to us.

Time for bed.  Tomorrow is Friday again, and though this has been a long winter, April is looking okay. The days are long and bright and the snow is almost gone.   love, Val

jay's 21

 Twenty-one years of you--all 6' 14" of you--no that's exaggerating.  Sometimes it feels like you're that tall though.

 You've always been a kid I felt like I sort of didn't deserve--too conscientious, too kind, sweet, helpful, thoughtful, hardly ever had to be scolded even.  You didn't make messes, or smart off, or bicker much with the other kids.

And then I found you on Twitter and that dirty, foul sense of humor--oh.  my.  goodness.

I was glad to know you let it out somewhere, actually, and laughed until it hurt.
  

 Our very own Baby Jay, all grown up now.

I'm lucky you're mine, and Dad is too.   

The whole family is lucky having you and we know it.  You hit this family like some kind of crazy explosion and everything is better with you here.

Happy Birthday, Buddy.   We could not love you more.   

love, Mom and Dad and everybody