Doggone

That is what happens when the screen door is not fully latched.  Fly slipped out the door and was gone faster than you could say Jack Robinson.  All five kids were screaming, shouting, and crying hysterically.  The boys were running down the sidewalk and out in the field (in their socks, no less) waving dog treats and calling the dog's name with tears streaming down their cheeks.  The dog was gone for maybe an entire four minutes, then she came running back around the corner of the house just as quickly as she had disappeared, and leaped into Paul's arms.  Dang sneaky dog.  She looked just a little too pleased with herself after all that; I'd swear she was smirking.  

A little light reading.

Cute, huh?
That is The Annals of Imperial Rome, in my four-year-old's bed.  She has been "reading" it every night before bed this week.  She'll actually lay there with her little reading lamp on and flip through the pages, very seriously, for a good 20 minutes.  Who needs Mother Goose when you can read Cornelius Tacitus?  Not my Elena!

If you are the mother of small children, you've been the recipient of many bouquets that probably look very much like this.  Every time a new tulip opens up out in my gardens, it is immediately picked and presented to me.  I guess I didn't really want any flowers cluttering up my flower beds anyways.  Although, if the children insist on picking my flowers (which is, still,  far better than picking the neighbor's flowers) I would appreciate if they could leave more than a half-inch of stem attached.  And of course the dandelions add just the right finishing touch.

Sweet Ride

A good way to draw attention to oneself is to ride around town on a big, ugly monster of a bike with enormous chrome pannier baskets and a noisy toddler in a trailer behind you, all the while screaming at four children on bikes in front of you dodging and weaving in and out of traffic.  Do this often enough, and townspeople start to recognize you and call you "that family with the bikes".  It's hard not to look cool cruising around on a rig like this here, I tell ya.  This, hopefully, is how we will spend many happy days this summer.  

Replacing the divots

They've been treasure hunting with the metal detector again.  Now that they are feeling better, it's time to fill in all their holes.  Looks like we'll also be planting some new grass.
Time to set up the playhouse again.  It was a $20 garage sale find.  It kept blowing apart over the winter, so we put it in the garage til spring.  The girls have spent the morning fighting over it; it's come to blows a few times already.  By the end of the week, no one will want to play out there anymore, but for now, there are some major land battles going on.

Things can only get better from here (I hope)

My morning walk with the dog.  A nice way to start the day, because you never know what'll happen around here.
Here's Naomi at her gymnastics parents' day.  I brought Wawa and all the children to see her.  Midway through, I had to hastily escort a vomiting child from the building, which is always one of motherhood's most exciting events.  We loaded quickly into the van, and made it home for Round 3 of the stomach bug.  Matt and Paul came down with it shortly after Joe, who was the one we had to rush out of gymnastics with. Oy.

Making it all worthwhile

A few years ago, the boys bought a metal detector with their own money.  The plan was to use it  to find all kinds of money and jewelry that other people lost, and become rich in the process.  A flawless plan in their eyes, almost as good as Joe's idea to print money off the computer's printer, and get rich that way.  Always thinking, those boys.  Today, all their scheming has come to fruition.  Pinched between Joe's dirty little fingers is a genuine nickel.  Yes, you read that right, they are now five cents richer than when they woke up this morning.  Paul just about tore the front door off its hinges running in to tell me what they found.  We'll just nevermind the big hole in my front yard, and the big pile of dirt on the sidewalk.  Right in front of the house, the house we are trying to sell, with the yard already full of brown grass and dog poop.  I'm sure we can find some way to sell all these new hole as a feature- maybe we'll call them petite inground pools, or convince people to pay extra for the mining rights to the property.
And this is how we spent our Easter weekend.  Yup, emptying more barf bowls.  Two more children woke us up Friday night with the unmistakable sound of vomiting all over their beds.  The sound of a kid puking in the middle of the night could probably wake me right up out of the grave.

Don't let this happen to you!

Yes, the baby fell asleep on the coffee table.  Wood.  No pillow.  Dried nacho cheese around her mouth still.  When you're two, taking  a nice nap in your comfy bed with lots of pillows and dark quietness is not as appealing as when you're, say, 33.  Especially when Uncle Todd is on his way over bringing Taco Bell.  A better mother might have tried to move the sleeping baby on to the comfy couch or even up to her bed.  I ran and got the camera, and am blogging it up as she sleeps.  Besides, small and cute as she appears, that is not a hornets' nest I want to poke.