Now THIS is storytime

Piles of kids, all ready for bed - what more could you ask for?

Beautiful Child

Ian photographs well - awake or asleep. Here he is konked out after Max's birthday party on Saturday. I snapped a pic then passed the camera on to Tom to grab a few. Couldn't ask for better light...or a more beautiful little face!

Happy Birthday Max!

So you are finally a big 7 year old. Congrats - it's quite an accomplishment! I hope that the next 70 years are just as productive - you are turning into quite the little man!

So in honor of his 7th birthday, Max had a party. In typical Phipps fashion, the August party involves water, pools, cake, slip and slides, and this year squirt guns and water balloons. We also added a pinata, which despite it's complete failure to behave in a pinata -like manner, it was a big hit. It was an afternoon that was under the threat of rain, but not a drop fell. it rained all day Friday and all day Sunday but was clear as a bell on Saturday (Whew! Was getting nervous about having 15 6 and 7 year olds indoors for two hours!). And a big THANKS to those of you who suggested alternate activities just in case - it was much appreciated! The kids splashed and played for about a hour, then we ate cake. It was an odd cake - not quite what I ordered, but close enough ( a soccer ball appeared on the cake - but Maya and Miguel also appeared o there, not wuite sure why they joined the party!). The kids ate it and Max loved the soccer theme, so all was well in that department.

Then, it was pinata time. Since we are pinata novices, we got one of those pull string pinanta that you can whack at until everyone has had a turn, then pull the stings and the candy will come out. Or so we thought. Tom and Dad hooked up this great rig so that Tom could move the pinata out of harm's way and all the kids could take a whack. Max was up first, and we covered hius eyes with a bandana. All was well with the first swing. He made contact then was encouraged to take another swing. Well, that's where it was apparent that our first pinata outing was not to be. Max hit the pinata and the pinata hit the floor. After a small giggle, Tom grabbed it, Dad grabbed Max so he wouldn't swing at Tom, and we all stood there laughing. So, Tom lifted up the pinata thinking that there's still the pull strings, so we were good to go. Wrong again. The kids pulled the strings and the strings all ripped off, but it took several punches from Tom to get the thing to spit out it's candy. So, we are NOT pinata masters, and while Ian and Sam are already demanding pinatas for their birthday, i'm honestly not sure what we'll do. Tom dumped the candy onto the heads fo the kids (yes, onto their heads - a few "Ows" and "heys!" and the kids had their 5 lbs. of candy. Maybe that's where we first went wrong. Do pinatas come with poundage ratings? Well, they should. At least the ones that I buy should - lord knows we overfilled it this time!

Anyway, it was a great party. The kids had a good time, the clean up was easy, and the weather worked out perfectly. Couldn't ask for a better 7th for the little man.

Happy Birthday Max!

It All Works Out

Tonight we ate dinner at Don Pablo's after picking up Baba from the airport. Tomorrow is Max's birthday party and it was pouring rain all through dinner (it was sprinkling when we got there but poured for a bit while we ate), and it was making the party plans for tomorrow look a bit sketchy. But, when we were walking out of the restaurant we saw this:

Isn't it beautiful? It was a big old double rainbow, but all I had was my phone to take this pic, so you can imagine what it really looked like. So, even if it rains tomorrow (cross your fingers that it doesn't) we saw one of the most beautiful rainbows we've ever seen...and Max wanted to hunt down the pot of gold at the end...

One Year

Today is the one year anniversary of Mom's death. I can hardly believe that a full year has passed. It seems like almost yesterday that I was flying back and forth to Texas to visit with her and help care for her in her last two months. Those months went so quickly. There's so much more I wish I could have experienced with her and so much more in life that I wish she would have been able to see. But, I go on knowing how deeply she loved all of us, and how proud she was of the way we'd all turned out. She and Dad are truly the foundation upon which my character is built. Without both of them I wouldn't be the person I am today - stong, independent, caring, slightly off center...and the list goes on.

So, while I'm terribly sad that she's gone from our lives and that the kids won't ever know the really cool person that she was (the grown up part - they know how cool she was as their Mimi!), I am greatful that I got to spend the first 33 years of my life with her and really get to know her not only as a mom, but as friend. So Mom, this is for you:

Ahhh...placemats

I love placemats and always have. I don't like the regular run of the mill pretty placemats designed to make your table look nice, but the placemats with cool stuff on them. It all started out with the holiday placemats, but thanks to the recognition on the part of my brilliant mother that I simply adored all placemats, and that they could be a learning tool as well, my obsession slowly spread to all types of placemats. She started me off with a few learning placemats and slowly added to the collection over the years. This comes in handy when you have three active boys who don't particularly like to sit still at meals or eat quietly. So, mealtime conversation has evolved into discussions about how much things cost, or which president is on which coin (and why Baba gave Ian a dollar when he asked for one and didn't give one to anyone else - Ian was the only one who asked - smart kid - and you know that this topic comes up quite often).

We also talk about what color states are (no, not red or blue states, although in this house that will be a normal topic of dinner conversation soon enough), and how long it takes to get from here to say, Idaho, and so on. We've also had all kinds of discussions about plane flights and driving and why Alaska is on the bottom of the map but how it's really above the top part, and why you really can't drive to Hawaii. Talk about confusing when you are four!
There's also a set of placemats that no longer grace out table. The kids have given up on the Periodic Table placemat and I've basically banished the human body placemat for meals. The periodic table is great when you are learning letters and numbers, but I guess it's just too boring for mealtime use. The human body, while cool to look at and chock full of info, was a bit much for meals. I wasn't so excited about discussing body parts and blood supply while chowing down. So, those are "retired" for now.


We also have some recent acquisitions. We were at the national Zoo and each little man wanted a placemat. So, we have three new additions to the family - the Saltwater Fish placemat, the Old McDonald placemat, and the Counting Animal placemat. These join the Solar System (we have two of those), the Power Rangers (yeah, not so educational but cool), the Multiplication placemat, and the favorite Dinosaur placemat.

So, if you don't have any placemats in your stash at home, check these out and see if there are any that float your boat. I'm sure there are, and they will be handy when we come to visit...

Time for Testing Again

It's time for the boys to start the next round of testing. I haven't mentioned this before in the blog (at least I don't remember mentioning it), but the little boys receive speech services from the school district, and have since they were 2.5 years old. Initially Sam was receiving fine motor therapy and Ian was getting speech therapy, but in actuality both were receiving speech services. Sam's fine motor caught up, and his speech was doing fine for his age, so he graduated when he turned three. Ian graduated from the Early Intervention program into the school district's program, which in Leander was a classroom based program. Ian thought it was super cool as he rode a bus to school for a few hours a few days a week, and was in a real class. Problem was, he moved into that class when he turned three (Feb. 25) and we moved mid-March. So, he went to "school" for a whopping two weeks. He did enjoy it and still talks about it to this day.

When we moved to Virginia he started receiving service here at home once a week. We loved the teacher and Ian made lots of progress. Along the way she mentioned that Sam needed re-evaluation as his speech was falling behind. The teacher in Texas told us that we needed to keep an eye on him and the his speech indeed started falling behind. He was evaluated and started receiving services this past Fall, and also started making good progress.

Along the way Sam developed some behavioral issues that we weren't sure how to deal with. He was overly aggressive, super emotional at inappropriate times, seemed to get himself all worked up for no reason, and was unable to calm himself down. He also was unable to sit still through a meal, or even through a short activity, and started hitting and pinching his brothers. He would spin in circles when he was overwhelmed and exhibited a few other off behaviors. Sam's teacher mentioned that he might have Sensory Integration Disorder, which is on the Autism spectrum. We tried a few things here at home and made huge improvements, and she decided that he needed to be evaluated so he could receive more services. While she was able to provide us with a bunch of info, and these few things we've done have improved his daily life greatly, he still has a way to go before he can control his body so his mind has a chance to do it's work (on the speech stuff for now - the rest of education later). Sam is a sensory seeker and is constantly craving input from his environment. His behaviors all point directly towards that and it's clear when we provide him with a little bit of extra sensory input, he functions much easier. Sam's speech has also fallen behind a bit more and he seems to be stuttering more lately, so we're concerned that his body is not only disrupting his ability to speak properly, but also is disrupting his ability to learn how to speak properly. So, Sam will be evaluated by an occupational therapist, a speech therapist, and a psychologist. They will also interview us about Sam's behavior to get a clearer picture of what's going on.

Ian was also showing signs of some delays relating to trunk strength. He has general weakness in his trunk and has some problems with activities like throwing and coloring. They are going to have an Occupational Therapist do an evaluation to see if there's any actual delay there, and if there is they will provide services. They will also review Ian's speech testing to see how he's doing. He's made so much progress, but he is still pretty unintelligible if you are a stranger or if you don't know the context of whatever he is talking about. His testing comes in about two weeks, but Sam's starts tomorrow.

Tomorrow is the OT evaluation, so it should be fun for Sam. He doesn't have much trouble with OT related things (at least in my opinion), but hopefully if they do find something it will tie in with the other behaviors and will help them help us make sense of this all. Like I said some of the little things we've done to help Sam learn how to deal with his senses have made a huge impact, and if the school district provides more services for him Sam will be in a much better place once school starts in a year and a half.

So, while I'm a bit apprehensive about this testing, it's more along the lines of "how can I get Sam to misbehave so that they get a good picture of what his trouble is" instead of the "Oh my gosh there's something wrong with my kid" variety. We really want Sam to be successful at whatever he chooses to do in life, and while his sensory stuff is mild, it's still there. Any help we can get for him early on will be much better for him in the long run.

Sam's Trip to the Dentist

Recently all three boys hit the dentist for their 6 month check up. All was well and good until the dentist peeked at Sam's x-rays. She saw a shadow - the dreaded "there-might-be-a-cavity there shadow that dentists can spot amongst the highlights and shadows of the x-ray. I've got to say that the x-rays themselves are pretty cool - you really can see all of the teeth in their little heads - ALL the teeth. Max had a bunch that were almost ready to pop out, and Ian and Sam had a stash ready to go in a few years.

Anyway, back to Sam. He had that little shadow and so we scheduled a follow up to have the cavity filled. It was a smallish thing that was on a baby tooth, but it was one of the last baby teeth that he would lose, so it really needed to be filled. That appointment was yesterday. You might think that it was traumatic since I'm just now getting around to posting about it, but that's not the case. It went surprisingly well - Sam was a complete trooper.

We had an early appointment and he and I headed over there, arriving on time. We had to wait for about 10 minutes, but it was no big deal as Sam had no idea what was about to happen. We had explained to him what was going on, but having no idea really what a cavity is or a drill or anything like that, he really wasn't sure what was going on. The hygienist and the dentist came in and hooked him up to the laughing gas, and set up Cars the movie so that he could watch it while they were working. The laughing gas and the movie did their jobs, and when the dentist came in to start working, aside from being slightly distracted by the movie, Sam did exactly what he was told and hardly flinched when they administered the Novocaine. He had a tear running down his cheek, but said that it was because it tasted bad, not because it hurt. Amazing.

He sat through the whole thing - about 20 minutes when all was said and done, and didn't take his eyes off the screen. He even managed to laugh at the first few scenes of the movie. Did I say amazing already? He went through the whole thing and not a peep about the drill, the having to hold still, or anything. Simply amazing. Sam is my hero (until he turns back into the little 4 year old boy that he really is...)

Our California Trip

We had a great time in California over the Fourth of July holiday! We headed out there to celebrate my youngest cousin Alan's graduation from high school. We flew out at the crack of dawn on July 4th, so we were able to catch the fireworks with the family at Disneyland. The boys were so exhausted that Max and Ian slept right through the fireworks. Sam woke up in a foul mood right before the fireworks, but you can't blame him - we woke them up at 3:30am eastern and it was 9:30 pacific when we were seeing those fireworks! Anyway, cool show - lots of fun. Then we hit Disney, celebrated Alan's graduation with family, got to hang out with Ray (who is in California for the summer working), got to swim a bit in Ann nad David's pool, and got to meet Baby Skye!!! She is Kelly and Colin's little girl, and she is adorable! I even managed to squeeze in a trip to two scrapbook stores - one very cool and the other terrible. Managed not to break the bank but got to check out some of the cool new stuff! So, here are some of the pics from our trip. It was one of those great vacations as well as a good time with family!

Click to play Make your own Smilebox

So we're in the car today (Max, Ian, Sam, and I) and Max blurts out: "So Mom, I forgot how the baby is actually born from the mommy. Can you tell me again?" Dang Tom for riding in the car with our good friend Matt. Dang Max for being so inquisitive. Dang me for answering all of his questions and encouraging him to ask them! Well, not really. I just love this stuff, but wasn't ready right at that moment to explain how it really happens. I told him that I'd sit down with him later and explain it. Tom's going to love this one...

And I'm adding it to the list of questions that I've gotten in the car - along the lines of "What does God do for me" and a few years ago: "Where do babies come from?"

Gotta love the kiddos... ;)

It's a game show for me!

Man, do they have my number over there at the Fox channel. There's a new show coming out this summer called "Don't Forget the Lyrics," hosted by Wayne Brady. Wayne Brady is THE FUNNIEST guy on TV today. He's multi-talented, and honestly, this format might be a complete waste of his talents. But I'm glad he's on my game show.

Let me explain. I know the words to just about every song out there...four words to be exact. No more, no less. There are a few fromt eh 80's and a few kids songs that I know more words, but for the rest it's four. I most likely know the song that you are thinking of right now, but I don't know more than four words of it. I can most likely hum the tune, but again, not sing enough of the words to even get a title sometimes.

So, you can see what the draw is for me to this new show. I'm not holding my breath as it's on Fox, but Wayne Brady is cool, and I might actually know a few of those words...certainly not enough to win the big bucks though. Maybe one day I'll learn a few more words...

The WORST tooth fairy...ever...

Max lost two teeth a while back and we did the whole tooth fairy thing just fine. He put the tooth in a bag under his pillow, and either Daddy the Tooth Fairy or Mommy the Tooth Fairy did the big switcheroo. He got a shiny dollar coin. He was so excited about that, and we were too - it was an easy switch. We were very good Tooth Fairies.

Well, I guess the shine has work off in more ways than one. First off, we completely forgot the get the tooth and leave the coin the first night. Yes, we forgot to be the Tooth Fairy. How terrible are we? I know, it isn't the first time, but Max was bummed. He came in to our bedroom at 7am, woke me from a dead sleep, and said, "Mom, the tooth fairy didn't take my tooth last night!" At 7 am it's tough to think on your feet (as they are still wrapped up in a blanket!), but I said, "well, honey, maybe she just couldn't see the bag." How lame is that. But, he believed me and made sure that the bag was sticking out the side of the pillow far enough so that the Tooth Fairy could see it. This is where it all goes wrong.

All was well at bed time - the bag was hanging out nicely, and it was my turn to play Tooth Fairy. Max was camped and sleeping peacefully, draped across his pillow. So, I snuck in and tried to FIND the bag. He was on the side of the pillow where the bag was, and I didn't want to wake him so I was being delicate. That wasn't working so I slunk out of the room. After a quick consult with Tom, I went back in more determined to be a good Tooth Fairy. Problem was, Max was really draped across the plastic bag, or so I thought. I reached under the pillow and had to dig really far under there to find the bag. I tried to give it a tug and it wouldn't budge. I realized at this point that Max had the bag IN HIS HANDS. Geez. Talk about making it tough for the Tooth Fairy! So, I pried the bag out of his warm little fingers and slid the coin under the pillow.

Now, remember I said that the shine had worn off in more ways than one? Well, I asked Max late this afternoon if the Tooth Fairy came today and he did his usual "Yeah" thing. He didn't seem too excited about it, so I asked what the tooth fairy left - pocket lint was my guess from his tone and body language. "A dollar coin." Huh. Guess it just isn't as cool the third time around. I pointed out that he has 20 teeth and that when all is said and done he would have $20. He wasn't too impressed with that either. Maybe pocket lint would have been better...

Ants and Bees and Spiders - OH MY!

Well, there are no spiders here, but it didn't sound as fun with just the ants and the bees. And it certainly didn't sound as fun if I would have said Ants and Bees and Entourages, OH MY!


WOO HOO! That's right! We're closing in on a new vehicle that starts consistently, whose windows roll down, and whose battery doesn't go dead if you open a door for an hour and a half. After driving several cars and vans over the past week, we've really honed in on the Hyundai Entourage. Even though we LOVED LOVED LOVED the Mazda CX-9, we just were too cheap to pay extra for a smaller vehicle just because it drives more like a car. So, we decided to go and hunt up ourselves a nice mini-van. A very nice mini van I should say! Tomorrow we'll head out and acquire said mini van, and hopefully bring it home with us (or maybe grab it on Monday). We heard numbers that we like, we have the financing lined up, and we're good to go!


Now, the not so fun parts. The bees and the ants are real. Well, one ant. One very BIG ant. It was brazen enough to walk across the living room floor, so of course we took a picture of it:

It's hard to tell, but that's a quarter - a state quarter to boot. The ant was almost as big as the quarter. We think it was a big old carpenter ant that just got lost, but he is no longer with us. Yeeh.

And last but not least, the bees. We've had run ins with bees and hornets before. Max found the hornets at our old house and I mowed over the bees here and got stung on my ankle last week. Not so noteworthy that I needed to discuss it, but it did itch for a solid week (thank goodness for spray on Benadryl!). Well, today the boys were running around while we were outside and Ian got stung by a bee from the same nest. It was just a non-descript hole in the ground kind of nest - nothing special. Ian fussed and complained until I showed him my sting, and until I sprayed the lovely Benadryl on it, and then he was good to go. The good thing here was that we found out that he did not have an immediate allergic reaction to the sting - which is always a concern with the first one. A trip to the ER today just wasn't in the plans. Ian in typical Ian drama, said "It's going to hurt for YEARS and YEARS...sigh..." I explained that it might itch for a week, but then it would stop and he would be just fine. He was satisfied with that and went on about his business - and hasn't looked back since.

So, that's the story of the bees and the ant. Hopefully the ant is happy at "ant camp" and we'll have to figure out how to get those darn bees out of the hole in the ground before they sting anyone else.

It's a LOVE/HATE kind of thing

So often in life the things that we love the most end up hurting us. Well, not really, but they often end up being not so pleasant. For example, pizza. I love pizza, but it doesn't love me. It hurts after I eat pizza, so I gave up on it a while back and I can love it once again - from afar.

I found something else that I have a love/hate relationship with - my trainer. I love that there's someone who knows lots more about exercise than me whom I can pay to make my body do what it needs to do to get into shape. I hate the way I feel the first time back with the trainer after two and a half months of no exercise.

It's like that first day of high school volleyball. We all walked in like we were hot s*&t, and the coaches beat us up one side and down the other. They made us run and jump and roll until we couldn't feel the cramps in our sore muscles let alone our muscles themselves. We hurt so much that first week of practice, but we were stronger and faster and could perform better because of it.

Back to this week. I've been exercising for a grand total of two weeks since my surgery - with the doctor's approval, of course. I was making my way back slowly to the gym, but I was there, and had been about five times since my surgery. Not bad I thought, so it's time to bring in the big guns - the personal trainer. Well, not nearly good enough. I know that the whole point of working out is to work the muscles (including your heart) that aren't quite up to snuff to get them heading in the right direction once again. But man oh man, my muscles haven't even entered the playing field let alone started warming up! Thus the hate part of the relationship with the trainer. He's great and all, but I still hurt three days later. At least today I can raise my hands over my head. I count that as a victory, but will head back to the gym tomorrow for another round. I figured that after two weeks back that since the rest of my muscles didn't hurt when I did my old workouts, that I was in decent shape. (The abs are completely shot and are starting over from square one.) So, I proceeded to share this with the trainer and he ran with it. *Note to self - never tell the trainer that you've made progress, or think that you've made progress. He believes you and makes it harder...

So anyway, I'm once again able to move - like I said the arms are better today, as it the butt. So, it's back tomorrow to the gym. Do you think that climbing in and out of the hot tub counts as an exercise?

What a Day!

How's this for an error message on your computer?


If you look closely you see that it says "You do not have permission to shut down and restart this computer." Huh? HUH? If I'm not allowed to restart the computer then who is? I have no computer gnome as far as I know of. Hmmm...


(And yes, that's a big old starfish behind the error message. I took that at the Zoo a while back - starfish was just hanging out waiting on the glass.)



On another note, Max is officially done with school! He's now a Second Grader! Here he is at the beginning and end of the school year (by the front door - two different houses). He's all of a few inches taller, he's missing a few teeth, he's filled his brain with all kinds of interesting facts, plus some cool Spanish stuff, and he's adopted the attitude of a rebel. Yes, Max is no longer sweet little polite Max. He's turned into a *gasp* - a little boy. He's joined the ranks of those who talk back, disobey, and create new and different ways to cause trouble. Funny part is, it doesn't bother me in the least! He's growing up and trying to figure out who the heck he is. I'm so proud of all the strides he's made this past year and how well he's doing. So, even though he's turned into a stinky boy this past year, I'm glad that he's finding his way. Hopefully next year will bring back some of that respectful little man that used to live here, but I'm not holding my breath.

It knows...

I have always believed that our vehicles know when we are talking about them. My blue van (a 2001 Dodge Grand Caravan) is no exception to this. Yesterday this once again was proven to us. My van has decided to give up...sort of. This is not a surprise to us nor is this new behavior on the part of the blue van. I'll call it a "he" because it's being mischievous, like my boys sometimes are.

Tom generously offered to clean out the van yesterday. It was sunny outside and Max had a friend coming over for a sleep over. Tom tackled the van and after about two hours of tossing, moving, shaking, and vacuuming, the van looked fantastic. It was like an archaeological dig though - you could tell when the last time it was cleaned by the layers of stuff. Didn't really know that chicken nuggets, french fries, wrappers, and water bottles would be able to create layers of sediment, but they did. Needless to say it had been a while since the van was cleaned out, but it is spotless now. Actually looks nice.

Tom went to start the van so he could go grab a new light bulb to replace the one that had burnt out in the tail light set, and nothing happened. Not a click, nothing. Then the gauges in the dash started creeping, and the windshield wipers in front and back started creeping. Huh? Tom couldn't get it to turn over and he sat there and laughed. Now, this actually happens pretty often. About every two weeks the van decides that it doesn't want to start - but never the weird gauge and wiper stuff. I reminded Tom of this - and that there's been electrical problems since we bought the van, but he couldn't get it to even click when he turned the key. Then, it clicked a bunch and we knew we were sunk. The battery didn't look too good, but after a jump start it did indeed start up.

The best we can figure is that the battery was drained while Tom was cleaning the van out. He had the doors open (shock!) while doing this, and it drained the battery. How screwy is that?

I firmly believe in Karma, and I think that this time we're on the losing end. We were talking about how nice the van looked when it was cleaned out. It looked "so nice that we should go and trade it" nice. Yeah, and the van heard us. Yes, it decided to give up right then when it heard us talking about trading it in. We were kind of joking around, but that darn van didn't get the joke.

So, now it really has come to the end of it's time with the Phipps family. We are officially on the hunt for a new vehicle. Tom and I won't put up with a mouthy van, one who throws fits when it feels like it, and doesn't follow directions when told to do something (the passenger side window no longer rolls down - insolent van). But, for now it is up and running, and we're just starting to look, but I'm going to have a talk with the van tomorrow to make sure that we're good. I'd hate to have it take a total dump while I'm out and about. It needs to know that we still love it, but that at 7 years old, it's time to go to a new home. We don't generally kick 7 year olds out of the house, but car years are like animal years...

Please take note

I am not a morning person. I have never been a morning person. The fact that all three of my kids are morning people boggles my mind, and often drives me nuts. (Tom isn't a morning person either.)

So, this note is directed to the person who called me at 6:12, and again at 6:14 this morning. The phone, which is generally right near my bed but wasn't last night, rang the first time. I decided not to run down the stairs in my asleep state to answer it, having noticed that it was indeed 6:12 am. I rolled over and went back to sleep. Then, two minutes later, it rang again. I figured if someone had the nerve to call at that hour,and call back when I didn't answer the first time, it was an emergency. No one in their right mind calls that early unless they are desperate to get a hold of me. Those that know me might even hesitate at that. Anyway, I finally got down the stairs and barely missed the call. Low and behold the number on the Caller ID was 000-000-0000. Go figure. Someone calls me at 6 o'clock in the morning, wakes me up, drags me out of bed, and hides their number in the Caller ID. Guess they did know who they were calling - and what they were getting into calling this early in the morning. Please, next time before you call me, be sure to check the clock. No one in this house is allowed up before 7am, and I hope dearly that you too follow this. I don't need to careen down the stairs again after the phone at six in the morning.

Sam, Sam the Dancing Man

Check out the moves on this little man:



He danced all night at Bill and Brooke's wedding - we had to pull him off the floor to grab a drink! We even started stripping clothes off so he wouldn't pass out. He loved every minute of it!

Playing Catch Up

Here are some random assorted things from the past few months, well weeks. Enjoy!

Ian completely camped out at dinner (in FL - we drove for a few hours that day after a rowdy day with family). This kid can sleep anywhere:

We finally found a Star Wars mailbox!!! Look - it's R2-D2 right smack in the middle of Crystal City!!!

And look who we saw at the bookstore! It's John Lithgow!

Here's Max scoring one of his many goals!

And a cooler action shot:

And I'll leave you with one Bunsen adventure. Tom was painting the screen for our big TV and Bunsen had to check it out. He did, and Tom caught him white footed! Check out his paws and the prints he left behind in the cardboard:

No, we didn't have to call the fire department

But yes, it was a fire. I was cooking dinner for myself and was looking forward to some Pierogies. If you've never had these, they are cheese and potatoes tucked inside a pasta shell. My first college roommate Mary introduced me to these. She made them with some cool sauce - I just cook them and eat. Anyway, I had fed the kids and they were eating and I was boiling water for some mediterranean pasta salad. In case you were wondering, I did not light the water on fire - that's something even I couldn't do. I'll try to blame it on the stove - ours just has a High setting, but I'm not sure that it's entirely the stove's fault.

The way I cook Pierogies is to throw some butter in a pan and basically fry them up. They are frozen and cook in about 10 minutes tops. Very yummy. I had the box pulled out on the counter, and there it sat until it was returned to the freezer. It started out well, the pan was heating up nicely. THen, it all took a turn for the worse - I dropped int he butter. Generally when you drop in butter it might sizzle a bit and slide around the pan. Well, this slid around, then burst into flames. i grabbed the pan so it wouldn't catch the microwave on fire, and stood there for aminute trying to decide what to do. Fortunately these are cool new pans where then handle doesn't get hot,so I was able to stand there for a minute while deciding what to do.

There's always that second of "can I douse this with water, or will it get 10 times worse" question that goes through my head (no, this isn't the first time I've caught something on fire in teh kitchen, but this time it was my fault. Anyway, I waited for about 10 seconds while the flame kept going, then I slowly put it under the water, very slowly as soot was jumping around and I didn't want to make an even bigger mess. So, I got the fire out, all the while having an interesting conversation with the kids, and making sure that the pot with the pasta didn't overflow.

The conversation with this kids was funny. not exactly sure who said what, but one asked

-Is it fire? Yes.

-Do we need to call the fire deparement? No.

-Are you going to set the smoke alarm off again? (Smart alek.) No.

-Wow, the room is filled with smoke. Should we open a door? (Yes, like I said I've done this before and have my kids trained.) Go ahead, and get the other door open too.

-Can you turn it off - I dont like it. No, give me a minute though, and it will be gone.

So, after opening up windows and reassuring the kiddos that I wasn't goign to burn the house down, and after turning off the smoke alarm (yes, it went off again), I was left with chips and cheese dip to go with my mediterranean pasta salad. Bummer - no pierogies, but I didn't burn the house down. Well, not this time, but I might have to reconsider cooking when Tom isn't home. Like I said, this isn't the first time I've set the smoke alarm off, and this isn't the first time that I've caught somehting on fire, but this time it probably was my fault, even though I'd like to blame it on the stove.

Oh, and here's the one casualty of the whole ordeal - but I think it can be saved...

Yeah, it really is burnt...