Bunny Ears and Spring Snow

I'm sitting in my sunroom, on a completely sun-less day, watching my son eat dirty snow off the slide in our backyard. After teasing us with 80-degree temps on Saturday, I guess Mother Nature wanted one last laugh.







 
This morning we went to an Easter egg hunt at our local library. It's actually one town over, and it's much smaller than our town's library.

On our way to the Hunt. Jack was out of his mind with joy at thought of
hunting for EGGS!

"Give me some EGGS, Mom!"

Because of the smaller size of the library, they are able to really connect with the kids. Ms. Nuccia has storytime every Monday morning for the kids, and she is an absolute delight. She is originally from Italy, and just a hint of an accent makes her voice a tantalizing treat to listen to.

Jack and Ms. Nuccia

Our little friends Alex and Claire join us for storytime each week, and they also went to the Hunt this morning.

"Ok guys, here's the deal: Look for eggs, and put them in your bucket."

I am slightly amused and slightly frustrated that for some strange reason, Jack consistently calls them by the wrong name. He calls Alex Claire and Claire Alex. Actually, he doesn't even call her Alex. He calls her Alice, which makes me laugh out loud every.single.time.

Look! Alice found a blue egg!

"I see it, Mom, but I can't reach it!"

Claire Joy, looking a bit suspicious of the event.

Yes, Heather and I bought them matching bunny ears. And yes, the boy ears had blue sequins.

And, no they didn't stay on very well. They were from the Dollar Store.

As my sister Melody would say, the quality there is a bit lacking...but the prices are pretty good.

Jack had a fabulous time with his bff's...

He was so happy and content and excited...until Claire...

...realized how fun it is to dump the bucket of eggs on the floor.

This did not please Jack. This did not please him at all. That's not how you do it, Claire!

Caught in the act.

Still, all in all a fun time was had, and Jack is anxiously looking forward to another Hunt at our house this weekend. I'm trying to teach him about the REALLY important thing that happened on Easter, but candy.... Jesus? Candy. Candy in the eggs, Mom! [sigh]

...

A few days ago, while talking excitedly with Ken about the Egg Hunt and who would be there, Jack suddenly got a sad look on his face. Ken asked what was wrong. Jack said, "I'm sad, Daddy." Ken asked why, and Jack said, "Because my sister in Ethriopila can't come to the Egg Hunt."

That makes me sad, too, Jack. 

But the way you pronounce Ethiopia? That makes my heart smile.

Good Stuff, Gross Stuff

Please Note: At the end of this post there is a picture of something really, really gross. If you are currently eating, have a squeamish tummy, or are easily grossed out, please do not view it. I will give you another warning before it appears.
 
A few days ago I shared a funny dream I had. My little guy, unfortunately, does not have funny dreams--at least not that he remembers and shares. He does have some bad ones, though, and he wakes up crying in the night. It doesn't happen very often, but when it does, it breaks my heart.

It's nice that he's able to verbalize now, so I can comfort him appropriately. One night he dreamed he had left a hot dog in the minivan, and apparently this was quite upsetting. I assured him quickly that we had plenty of hot dogs--in the fridge, and there weren't any in the van.

Another dream, that really was sad, was that he had lost all his friends. I reminded him that his friends were all in their homes, in their beds, sleeping. He quickly fell back asleep.

I keep thinking about that dream though. Friends are very, very important to Jack. And we're blessed because he has some really awesome friends in several different spheres of his life. No wonder he would be sad if he lost them!

Recently our friends invited us to the zoo. They receive season's passes from their grandma for Christmas--what a great gift idea!

 I sure did miss my niece Savannah when I saw this sign. Hopefully some day she can join us!

Jack was very interested in this evolution propaganda. I think it was the slidey thing more than the actual content.

Aren't they a lovely family?

..

We've also been enjoying the sand table that Ken built in our backyard, as well as the swingset. Yesterday was a gorgeous day, so in spite of terrible allergens floating everywhere, we went outside for some fun in the sun.

He's really almost too big for the slide, but the rest of the swingset is just right for him.

 Enjoying the view from the shade of our patio.

Ok, but then things got a little gross. And by little, I actually mean a lot. I was walking around the yard, admiring all the tulip and daffodil shoots, when suddenly I came upon something that stopped me in my tracks. Apparently something else was also stopped in its tracks.





This is where you should stop reading if you are squeamish.








No seriously. Stop.




If you don't stop reading, and you throw up in your mouth, or have to make a run for the bathroom, don't blame me.






You've been warned.



Ready? If you're still reading, you're about to see something ... ummm ... very *natural.* I don't know what exactly it is, but I have my suspicions.




I'm only posting it in the hopes that someone can shed light on it's origin ... and it's untimely end. And why it was left.



Last chance, folks. It's coming.




Here it is. Nestled in the grass, a thing-a-ma-jig, approximately 8 inches in diameter.

And here's another shot, blown up so you can see all the ... contents.

Ken was kind enough to dispose of it before our dog found it. I would LOVE to hear your thoughts on what you think it is, and how it came to be in this state, in our yard.

Thanks for reading. Enjoy your next meal...


:)
Luann

Adventures in the Bedroom

Last week I was walking down the street, along the sidewalk with a friend. All of the sudden I noticed a skunk on the pavement in front of me--in broad daylight.

I stopped in my tracks.

Maybe if I didn't move, it wouldn't notice me? But then, "Pepe le Pew" turned around and squatted, much like our dog does when she's about to drop a brown bomb.

Uh-oh.

The skunk pointed her little behind right at me, and like a fire hose, a stream of putrid smell came flying at me. It seemed like it was in slow motion.

I quickly jumped to the left, trying to avoid her sulfuric spray.

I jumped so fast, and so far, that I landed with a thud. ... Onto the floor beside my bed.

It was a dream, and here I was, in the middle of the night, lying on the hardwood floor.

A grown woman. 42 years old. Fell out of bed. For fear of a skunk.

#TrueStory

...

When I was in my 20s, I got my first queen-sized bed. I was quite pleased with the size, especially since I'd only ever slept in a twin.

At the time, I lived in a large, two-story house with three other single girls. My room was right above the family room, and I quickly became known for being the first to go to bed.

This is not my bed. Or my bedroom. But isn't it deliciously beautiful?
The tufted headboard is to die for. And the chandelier!

What my roommates didn't know was that I had perfected a technique for getting into my queen bed each night. Because there was no footboard on the bed, I was able to slide in from the very end of the bed. Actually, dive in.

I would turn off the light; the switch was right by the door, and I would take exactly four large steps in total darkness to the end of my bed. At that point, I would stretch out my arms and "dive" into the bed.

But one night, a miscalculation on my part led to an unpleasant surprise...and the revealing of my secret nightly diving.

That particular night, I turned off the light as usual. But apparently my toes were not pointed directly at the bed. I was only slightly off track on the first step, but by step four, I was completely off kilter.

But I didn't know it.

Again, it was dark. Very dark. And my eyes had not yet adjusted to the darkness.

So I took my usual dive, but ended up crashing just to the left of the bed.

Boom.

Face plant.

My roomies, who were just below in the family room watching TV, heard the loud boom and quickly muted the television. What on earth just happened? they wondered.

A few minutes later, I came stumbling down the stairs, sporting a pretty goose egg on my forehead.

My ex-roomies still share this story when they need an impromptu entertaining story. It gets a lot of laughs, I guess.

If you are having a hard day, and you ask nicely, I may do a re-enactment for you.

#TrueStory

...

Soon after getting married, and sharing my queen bed with a boy for the first time, I had an interesting and somewhat scary dream. In the dream, a large frog had landed on my leg.

(This was not too far from reality, as we lived in tropical Florida, on a lake, and saw many large frogs (toads?) on a regular basis.)

The dream was so realistic that I swatted--with all the girl strength I could muster--at this frog that had landed on my leg.

Unfortunately for my husband, it wasn't a frog. It was his large man paws, trying to be all cuddly,

SMACK.

It was the middle of the night, and neither one of us woke up enough to have a conversation about it.

The next morning, however, as we lay in bed, I said, "Sorry I hit you last night. I thought you were a frog."

There was silence for just a moment. And then my witty husband responded:

"RIBBIT."

#TrueStory

...

Right after graduating college, I was living at home, sleeping in my old bedroom. I woke up in the night to use the bathroom, but as I stood, I lost my balance. Like really lost my balance.

You have to understand that a person of my height is not always the most graceful flower in the garden. And back then I was not, how shall I put it....as sturdy as I am now. I was a waif. A slight breeze could blow me over.

Anyway, I lost my balance. I tried to aim for the bed as I fell, but being a twin bed, the target was not large enough.

Instead, the chest of drawers decided to Eskimo kiss me. I slammed into it, nose first, and broke my nose.

Imagine my embarrassment when I had to explain that the next day at my new job.

#TrueStory

...

If you thought the title of this blog indicated that the content would be R-rated, I'm disappointed in you for clicking on the link.

And you should be ashamed of yourself for reading such nonsense.