Elfy's Dirty Cousin Pays A Visit

Not long after Elfy (Jacob's Elf on the Shelf) joined us, we received a surprise visit from Elfy's cousin, Wolfpack. You may have seen Wolfpack's half-brother in the infamous movie The Hangover.

Wolfpack is not quite the charmer that Elfy is. In fact, he's kind of dirty. He doesn't shave. He's always wearing his sunglasses indoors (rude). And he's always carrying around a bearded Lego baby in a front pack. Lego Baby is notorious for popping open a can of beer before noon.

Neither Wolfpack nor Lego Baby are good rolemodels for my children. But Elfy is too kind to send them packing. "It IS the holidays," he is always reminding me. Personally, I'm ready to drop kick them out the door. This is a touchy subject that we are still finessing.

Meet Wolfpack:

When I first met Wolfpack, he was taking a bath in my favorite soup bowl/cup. Much like my children, he pees in his bath water.

That night, he drank too many beers and passed out on the floor. 

But he still woke up bright and early to corrupt Jacob's toy dinosaurs with stories about doing blow off a transvestite hooker's stomach. 

We all breathed a sigh of relief when Wolfpack disappeared for a couple hours. Until we received a collect call from jail asking for $10,000 in bail money. Santa, the bill is in the mail for that one.

When Wolfpack returned to our home, he completely disregarded my lengthy lecture about Cleaning Up His Act. Instead, he decided to do some snow angels in his leftover cocaine. I'm not quite sure HOW an elf acquires an entire cup of cocaine but I'm pretty sure I'm going to have to forfeit that bail money.

Cocaine and train crossings do not mix. Wolfpack learned this the hard way....OR quite possibly, I may have paid Thomas for a hit on the guy. Whatever. I plead the fifth. 

After the pedestrian versus train collision,  it appeared that Wolfpack had  taken on a profound new perspective on life. He suddenly found beauty everywhere in the world around him. Or, more likely, he had exchanged his cocaine habit for a weed habit and was as high as the waistband on my dad's favorite pair of sweatpants.

But it's ok. Wolfpack is much more tolerable when he is high. 

*Please note that to complete this post, I had to google "how to do blow" in order to confirm that you can in fact do blow off of a hooker's stomach. I did not find an answer. But I really hope no one needs to review my search history in the near future.

Year In Review: 2013 Family Christmas Letter

This has been an exciting, amazing, and very busy year for the P family! It’s such a blessing to look back and reflect on all the activities of the year. We have tried our best to capture our favorite adventures and stories from 2013 to share with our friends and family.

We are celebrating our seventh year living in downtown Bremerton. We are also celebrating our first year without a drive-by shooting, serial killings, or meth lab. We had awesome weather this summer, which made it unbearable to be in our house. This forced us outside to actually meet our neighbors. Turns out, our neighbors are mostly normal and pleasant, but we still stay away from the apartment complex that lights up like a Christmas tree on the sex-offender map. And thanks to the neighborhood effort to pick up all the used hypodermic needles in the alley, the kids can finally ride their bikes!  

Ryan is now 19 months old. It has been a real treat to watch him grow. In April, we celebrated his first birthday. His favorite part of the party was when the guests left and he had all the empty cardboard boxes to himself. Ryan is talking a lot now. When we go out driving he likes to point out cars, busses, trucks, and homeless people. He still thinks trucks are busses and he still thinks his Grandpa Roger is a homeless person but we are working on it. You know how nutritionists say that it’s healthy to eat a colorful diet? Well, Ryan must have taken this to heart because he ate approximately 50% of a Crayola crayon box (it appears that he prefers primary colors). Ryan has also shown a penchant for mixed media art when earlier this year, he removed his own diaper and finger painted with its contents. We recently discovered that Ryan is suffering from an incurable condition known as "Toddler." The symptoms include going from sickeningly sweet to punch-your-older-brother-in-the-face in less than 60 seconds. We think it’s hereditary and that he gets it from his mom. 

Jacob turned 5 years old in September. We celebrated his birthday in our newly planted backyard with a Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtle themed birthday party. We hired a karate instructor to teach the kids some karate moves. The instructor also brought katanas (swords), nunchucks (nunchucks), a bow (staff), and sais (three-pointed thingys) and demonstrated how to use them. Kids, weapons, and sugar turned out to be a pretty awesome combo. I don’t know about Jacob, but Ryan sure learned a lot of karate (Jacob is still suffering from his nunchuck wounds -- the doctors are hopeful he will be able to see in time for Christmas). This year Jacob has shown us his sassy side. He has threatened to run away from home several times. Unfortunately he has never made good on that promise (Husband says this is another characteristic passed down from Mom). Jacob has really been developing his interests, which as of late, include stuffed animals and art. We think he will combine these two interests and become a taxidermist when he grows up (free living room decor for life!).

Husband has been on tour with his band a lot this year. They play in exotic locations like Lakewood and Silverdale. They play for free now but we have high hopes that someday people will stop mistaking them for musician beggars. Husband completed our backyard remodel project this year. We now have a level back yard, with grass, and a nice, tall cedar fence. It’s pretty. And it keeps our neighbors from looking in our windows, which has helped minimize the surprise visits from the protective services.  

CP started her dream job working as an attorney for the local county. She has already won a trial.....well, a trial membership of “Honest Lawyer” which was cancelled after its first issue due to lack of content. CP is also trying out a new parenting technique called “outsourcing.” It's amazing how much internet surfing you can do when people in foreign countries parent for you. (Mom #5 is on Skype with Jacob as we speak, probably telling him to brush his teeth or grounding him or something). 

Let’s see, some other highlights? Well, June was a pretty exciting month. We earned a 60 cent fuel discount from Safeway and our Subaru hit 250,000 miles. More recently, in October, we learned that children can, in fact, live off of hotdogs and Cheezits for an entire month. Don’t worry, we squirted some Ranch on their plates to make sure they got their daily dose of dairy. And this Christmas we are looking forward to Jacob breaking the Guiness World Record for most consecutive times singing “Grandma Got Run Over By A Reindeer.” He is also looking forward to singing that song at Aunt Diane’s March wedding (if we can arrange a flash mob with the Muppets (shhhh, don’t tell Aunt Diane, it’s her wedding present from us). 

So, that pretty much wraps up our year. We look forward to keeping in touch with everyone in 2014 (preferably over Facebook so that we can tweet, pin, and text all at the same time). We wish your family lots of love this Christmas season, many blessings throughout the New Year, and a never-ending supply of adventure!

Love,

The P Family

How The Mom Stole Christmas

Every boy in the house liked Christmas a lot

But pick up their things and behave, they DID NOT.

Their Mom hated toys and the whole commercial season

You want to know why? I'll give you the reason

It could be that Mommy stepped on legos each night

It could be that Mommy's budget was a little too tight

Which explains why she could not go to the mall

and replace her mom jeans that were three sizes too small.

But whatever the reason, the legos or jeans,

While she sat in the bathroom cleaning pee off the latrine

Staring down at the seat, she pulled her hair and she cried

She steamed from the ears as her face went cross-eyed

For she could hear the boys in the room just next door

Dumping all their toys out onto the floor

"And they're coloring on their walls" she snarled with a sob

"and leaving poop-stained underwear on the door knob!"

Then she growled with her fingers nervously drumming,

"I MUST find a way to keep Christmas from coming!"

For on Christmas, she knew the disobedient boys

would wake up bright and early to find piles of new toys

And then! Oh the noise! Oh, the noise! Noise! Noise!

Because Santa will come, rain or shine, Christmas night

Even if all the boys did all year was FIGHT! And FIGHT!

and FIGHT! FIGHT! FIGHT! FIGHT!

Each boy would tackle the stockings and gifts under the tree

And toss wrapping paper pieces like a wild banshee

And then they'd do something she liked least of all!

Every boy in the house, the tall and the small

would clutch closely their toys, all glittering and shining

She'd ask them to share and they all would start whining!

They'd whine! And they'd wine! 

And they'd whine! Whine! Whine! Whine!

And the more the Mom thought of the whole crazy ordeal 

the more the Mom thought, "I must stop this for real!

"For too many years, I've put up with it now!

I MUST stop Christmas from coming!...But HOW?"

Then she got an idea!

An awful idea!
THE MOM GOT A WONDERFUL, AWFUL IDEA!
"I know just what to do!" She yowled through her yap
As she quickly made plans for a Santy Claus trap.
And she chuckled, and clucked, "What a great sneaky trick!
"With my grand, foolproof plan, I'll lock up that Saint Nick!"

"All I need is a chimney..." The Mom said as she guzzled some wine.
"A cardboard box, chicken wire, and some twine!
For when the kids see that St. Nick has forgotten

Maybe, just maybe, they will stop being so rotten!"

So the Mom plotted and planned all night and all day

She created a Pinterest board to help pave the way

And when it was time, the Mom's eyes glowed infrared

and she tucked her unsuspecting boys way deep in their bed

All the windows were dark. Quiet snow filled the air.
All the boys were all dreaming sweet dreams without care
The Mom gobbled Santa's cookies, washed down with some rum
She hiccuped and giggled and prepared for the fun

"This is step number one!" The elated Mom hissed

As she clutched her well-laid plans in her fist.

Then she picked up the scissors snipped away with rage 

And began the construction to make Santa's cage

And as she was snipping and snapping and snupping

She stopped what she was doing when she thought she heard something

From the dark boys' room, she heard a little boy's prayer

and his gentle, soft voice soon filled the air

"Dear Santa," the boy started to say

"I have not been a very good boy today.

In fact I have had a pretty bad year.

So I completely understand if you leave no presents here."

"But please Santa please, I was doing my best

to toughen up my younger brother by being a pest

And the messes I made were not messes at all

They were forts and castles and towers and walls."

"Mommy says I was bad, but I just don't understand

Everything seems different to me where I stand

And those time I don't listen, I don't mean to disobey

So please Santa please come to our house Christmas Day."

And the Mom, with her evil-grinch glow 

Stood puzzling and puzzling, "Could it really be so?"

That maybe my boys aren't naughty and bad

Maybe they just have selective hearing like their dad?

Maybe these kids are just doing what little kids do

Maybe they're supposed to act like they live in a zoo?

And what happened then...? Well...I'll tell you what they say

The elastic in the Mom's jeans Grew three sizes that day!
And the minute that happened, she became much less uptight

and her cold frigid heart warmed all through the night
She thought of the times that her kids were quite sweet
Playing games, goofy smiles, sticky hugs were a treat

Her anger escaped and suddenly it became very clear
She wouldn't stop Santa from coming, at least not this year

She put away the scissors and wire and twine

And generously left St. Nick what was left of her wine.

The Mom hopped under her covers, happy thoughts floating in her head 

Content not knowing her kids had just peed their bed.

Advent: Fun And Reflections

Today started with me wrangling two hyper-active boys and all of their stuff within a three foot long section of pew in Mass. Wedged between an older man and an older woman, I spent an entire hour mostly shushing my two boys, telling Ryan to stop coloring on the pew, answering Jacob's questions about how to spell randomly-selected words, physically restraining Ryan's feet when he insisted on swinging them in every direction, and picking Cheerios off the floor (and trying not to stick my butt in anyone's face in the process). I think I heard (and recited) the Our Father prayer, the rest of the Mass is just a blur.

Oh, except for the part when my son yelled during silent prayer time, "Mommy, are unicorns real?!"
"No. Shhhh."
"WELL I THINK UNICORNS ARE REAL!"
"Please, shhhh!"
"IF JESUS CAN BE REAL, UNICORNS CAN BE REAL!"

During the offering, I handed Ryan an envelope with some money and told him he could put it in the basket. Finally, the basket started to make it's way down the aisle in front of us. As it passed in front of Ryan, he chucked the envelope straight at the basket, nearly grazing the people standing in front of us. And, for the record, just barely missing the basket. The entire pew erupted into stifled laughter. I guess I should have make it more clear to Ryan that he was not supposed to "make a basket."

After Mass, our church celebrated the first Sunday of Advent with a St. Nicholas Festival. The kids got their photos with St. Nick. I made an Advent wreath. We all had cookies for breakfast. Hey, it's better than donuts, right?

Also, this is the note Jacob wrote me during Mass. He wrote "I Love You God" all by himself. I helped with the "St. Joseph."

Then I wrangled all the kids to the grocery store and then the fabric store. At the fabric store, Ryan fell asleep in my arms which made it really tricky to carry fabric up to the counter for cutting. And Jacob knocked over an entire rack of ribbon spools. The lady at the store tried to help him clean up but Jacob insisted on doing it all by himself, which took approximately one million seconds too long.

We got home to discover that my husband had finally purchased the new TV he had been talking about buying for YEARS. He likes to research, and compare, and read reviews, and measure, and research some more. I have a light trigger finger when I go shopping. When I want something (if I decide that I can afford it), I simply BUY IT.

We went from a 32 inch TV to a 51 inch TV. I never really wanted a TV this big. I grew up with a 13 inch TV and I still think that is good enough for anyone. But I have to admit, I like the way the TV fills up the blank space against the wall that used to taunt me every single night. Now the space between the two hangings above the TV taunt me (too far apart in my opinion). But I'm too lazy to move them. We have officially become a 2 TV household. That means, we have one TV per 475 square feet of house. Yikes. Too much.

One tiny living room. One ginormous TV.

My homemade Advent wreath with olive wood candle holders (from Bethlehem)

As if my day wasn't busy enough with shopping and organizing and laundry and making dinner, I decided we should have a family gingerbread house night. I have a fantastic recipe, I can't remember where it came from. But it actually TASTES good (unlike most gingerbread house recipes). And it's super easy.

Gingerbread Cookies/Houses

• 6 cups flour
• 1/2 tsp baking powder
• 4 tsp ground ginger
• 4 tsp cinnamon
• 1/2 tsp cloves
• 1/2 tsp salt
• 12 Tbs butter
• 1 1/2 cup brown sugar
• 2 eggs
• 1 cup molasses
• 1 Tbs water

Mix the dry ingredients. Mix the wet ingredients. Combine, a little at a time, then knead until dough forms a ball. Refrigerate for 2 hours. Roll dough out to 1/4 inch think. Cut out shapes. Bake at 350 for 15-20 minutes.

By the time I made the dough, let is refrigerate, cut out the shapes, cooked them, cooled them, assembled them,and then made the frosting, it was already 8:30 p.m. But Jacob and I had our hearts set on gingerbread houses, so we forged onward.

After years and years of making gingerbread houses that never stayed up, I finally got smart and used a hot glue gun this year. Worked like a charm. It was amazing. Considering that I have never met anyone who actually eats the gingerbread part of the house, I figured this was a safe bet.

Beautiful houses in progress:

Ryan is helping, kinda.

Is he putting candy on or taking it off? We shall never know.

Then he got a little bit sugar drunk. 

Actually, he was practicing his pig sounds when I snapped this shot. But this is how I look when I get drunk.

So proud (and excited to be up past 9:00 p,m,)

All done!

Before bed, Ryan flushed his sugar high out of his body by accessorizing his outfit.

Ryan walked around the house like this for approximately 15 minutes, while playing ball. Except the hanger kept falling off when he would reach down to pick up the ball. This made him a little angry. But he kept putting it right back on.

Most of my pictures of Ryan actually look like this (sans hanger):

Oh yeah, we also made Christmas ornaments. Although, we won't have a tree for another two weeks. Jacob decorated the one on the right. My husband "helped" Ryan decorate the one on the left. My husband spend way too long decorating his ornament and making sure it was just right. I think he has some childhood holiday angst to work out. Or just OCD.

It was a LONG and TIRING day. But my boys brought me so much joy and so many smiles. Sometimes I look at the boys with appreciation and sentiment and think, "Wow, God could have given you to anyone on the planet, but I'm so freaking glad he gave you to me."

Although I'm a born and raised Catholic (and would never chose to be any other religion- I truly love Catholicism) I do struggle a lot with my faith. The beliefs that came so easily to me as a child are so hard to accept as an adult. I feel a lot of skepticism and doubt. I've been unsure of a lot of things lately. I sit in the pew and I try to pray. But I just feel silly. Like an actor. It doesn't feel genuine. 

I'm the epitome of the Doubting Thomas. I have to see and feel to know that something is real. There's a lot about religion that I cannot feel or see, but the warmth and love and community of my church is 100% real. I can feel that, stronger than anything. I'm just holding on, hoping that one day everything will finally click. 

Love Notes

Over the years, I've collected quite a few love notes written by husband. Some of them are very well-written. Some of them have a lot of flowery language. Some of them sweet and sentimental. Some grateful and thankful. Some of them funny. It's always a fun treat to go back and read them.

Lately, my husband's love notes have been very short and simple.

Nowadays, he just gets right to the point.

 

How very practical.

Bad Mommy

Very, very bad mommy.

The Prostitutor

The other day I was in ToysRUs with both kids shopping for a friend's birthday present. After perusing several aisles with the kids, I realized how utterly unhelpful the entire effort was. Surprisingly, Jacob understood and accepted the fact that we were not here to buy toys for him and he never asked for a single toy once. But he was easily distracted and not helpful in picking out a toy for his friend either. So I had Jacob and Ryan go play with a train table display so I could get shit done. In peace.

After a while, I heard Jacob talking to another kid at the train table. The kid's mother was standing by watching. The kid started telling Jacob about his mom's work (something to do with large, fun construction equipment). Then Jacob, who apparently cannot pronounce the word "prosecutor," blurted out, "My mommy is a prostitutor!" The kid's mom looked very puzzled. I got such a kick out of it that I didn't even bother to correct him, which probably confused the mother more.

I look forward to more stories from Jacob involving, "my mommy the prostitutor."

Speaking of "prostituting," I'm still loving my job. Almost in a scary way. Most of my time is spent preparing for trial for a really fun personal injury case. Both sides have filed summary judgment motions. The issues involved in this case are novel and interesting and there really is no controlling case law. I've been doing a lot of the drafting for our motions and oppositions. Motions practice is by far one of my favorite things about being an attorney. I love to craft arguments, attack other peoples arguments, and basically take a bunch of weird cases and try to make them fit into the way I'm framing the issues. Whenever someone asks me to draft a motion, I get so excited, it feels like my eyeballs are going to explode from the pressure.

We attended a summary judgment hearing the other week and I sat in the benches while my boss argued the motion. The judge was also very fascinated by our case and you could see him getting all excited as he heard our arguments. As the opposing party was arguing their side, the judge took an argument I had written and promoted it. It was so awesome to hear a judge use an argument that I had created. At the end, he ruled in our favor and made a point to compliment our briefing. I was beaming with pride. I had spend at least 16+ hours researching and drafting that sucker! (Side note: this is another thing I LOVE about general counsel work versus law firm practice, I don't have to worry about over-billing so I can take my time on assignments, know every nook and cranny of the law, and do it all right without rushing or stressing!).

I'm also helping on non-litigation projects, which I'm still getting used to. Often times I will be thrown an issue in which I have absolutely no background knowledge. But the issues are always fascinating and my passion for public policy carry me through 800+ pages of public comment on rules from government agencies, almost without a headache. Administrative law was not my strong suit. My recent project has to do with law enforcement and mental illness, a topic that is very current right now.

Basically what it boils down to is that I love feeling connected to public policy. I love working on projects that will impact the community. I love being involved in local government, even if it is just a minor capacity. This job is my dream come true.

As far as the office goes, I'm slowly getting to know my coworkers better but I most often still feel like the new kid at school. I don't feel like I have a whole lot in common with my coworkers, although they are very nice. I know most people show a different version of themselves at the office. But I can be such a shy person, especially when I really want people to like me. I feel like the me at work is such a disconnect from the real me. I can't wait until I'm more comfortable and become better friends with everyone so I can feel like myself again.

My attempts at small talk are so freaking awkward and hilarious. I wish someone could film my attempts to interact with coworkers all day. I passed one attorney in the hall as he was taking his plate of lunch to his office, and desperate to start a conversation, I made a comment about the shape of the carrot on his plate. OMG. One of the legal secretaries has an office that inclines upward. Today, trying hard to start a conversation, I told her that she would be the most safe in a flood. Then there was awkward silence. I resisted the urge to laugh maniacally just to break that silence. Then there is the elderly coworker who asked me to have all of his babies.

There is one senior attorney in our office who is a very strange, but very smart man. I have a soft spot in my heart for strange people with weird people skills (because they are my people!). He likes to talk. A lot. The mind-blowing thing is that he can start talking to you about one subject and then go off into a series of tangents only slightly related to that subject but, eventually, he will always wind his way back to the original topic without missing a beat. He starts out talking about health information disclosures, then before you know it, it is two hours later and we are talking about meat packing at the grocery store and right when I'm about to give up hope that I will never get the answer I came in for, he will link meat packing right back to health information and - voila! There is my answer.

When he talks, he closes his eyes for up to 90 seconds at a time. Sometimes he flutters his eyelids uncontrollably it is like they are having mini-seizures on top of his eyeballs. Oftentimes, about 2.5 hours into his monologue, my ass is sore from sitting and my brain freezes over. I'll stare at him blankly and unfocus my eyes to create a double vision effect. Then I'll change the focus of my eyes to give him multiple eyeballs. Adjust the focus a little and he had three eyeballs. Adjust a little more and he has four eyeballs. Rotate my head a little and his four eyeballs begin to slant downward across his face. This is what I do to keep from pocking pens into my eyeballs.

Oh.. and you know how some people say, "yada yada?" Well, instead of that, he says, "smoochie-smoochie-smoo." The first time I heard him say that, my zen face cracked and I erupted into laughter in the middle of his office. I've found myself resisting the urge to incorporate that phrase into my daily conversations. What is happening to me?!

Oh how I love office socialization!

Children: Highs and Lows

High: Walking into the boys' room first thing in the morning to be greeted by gigantic, groggy smiles and high-pitched giggles.

Low: Sitting on the bedroom floor in front of my mirror (the outlets in our only bathroom have not worked for five years) trying to apply eyeliner while Ryan repeatedly hops in and out of my lap, yanking my hair to stabilize himself in the process (causing my head to bobble as if I were a dashboard toy) while Jacob is dangling dirty socks in front of my face (and blocking my mirror view) begging me over and over to smell them. It's a miracle any eyeliner comes within a millimeter of my eyes.

High: Kissing my two sweet boys goodbye and sniffing in one last whiff of their baby-shampooed heads as I rush off to work.

High: Walking in the door after work to be greeted by loud happy cries of "Mama! Mama! Mama!" With two pairs of arms bear hugging my legs and torso before I can even get my shoes off.

Low: Exactly 45 seconds after the bear hugs end, Ryan angrily empties an entire bag of fish crackers on the floor because I refuse to give him a sucker, Jacob is pouting and stomping his feet loudly across the floor screaming, "I WANT TO WATCH JEOPARDY!," neither child will finish his dinner, Ryan's tantrum turns into major diva drama as he flings his pathetic body on the floor and cries loudly into the fake hardwood, and at that precise moment, I walk into my room to discover that SOMEONE has emptied the contents of my make-up bag and colored all over my walls with eyeliner.

Low: I fall into the toilet trying to take a pee because SOMEONE forgot to close the toilet lid.

Low: A sticky, half-sucked-on sucker has wrapped itself in my favorite sweater.

Low: Poop. On. The. Floor. (Not mine.)

High: Ending the night with a much-needed Naked Dance Party

Cow Kisses

I earned major mom points this weekend. On Saturday we hung out in the alley and rode our bikes. Ryan even got to ride the big kid bike. But now he refuses to ride on his own bike. I guess it's just more fun being a big kid.

Then I took the kids swimming at the gym. We go to the gym all the time, but I usually make the kids hang out with drooly, hair-pulling, grabby kids in the baby jail, er, I mean the childwatch center. This time, they got to hang out with drooly, hair-pulling, grabby kids in the baby jail. But AFTERWARD, I took them swimming.

Jacob is very brave in the pool. He dunks his head and swims completely under water, a few feet at a time. He eyes the deep end with lust as he hangs onto the edge of the pool. He begs me over and over and over and over to watch him dunk his head or jump in with a floaty. 

Ryan is way more cautious. He clings to me and generally prefers to be in the very shallow end with the exception of the kiddy slide. He loves that kiddy slide. Probably only because he loves slides in general though. He would prefer the slide to be on land.

I'm not usually a fan of pools myself. So, it's a big treat when the kids get to go to the pool. I associate pools with being wet. And cold. And having to get naked in front of people in the locker room. And having to wear swim suits. These four things are probably my least favorite things on the entire earth. Id rather shovel cow poop. So, yeah, I tend to side with Ryan and his trepidation of the water. 

When we are done with the pool, the kids and I spend just as much time in the showers as in the pool water. I huddle desperately under the warmth. I close my eyes and can almost pretend I'm in a steamy spa. Until Ryan erupts into a tantrum because he can't reach the soap dispender. Ryan LOVES the soap dispenser. He demands to be in my arms where he is within touching distance of the dispencer knob. So my spa experience lasts about 30 seconds before there is a wet, squirmy baby glued to my arms dispensing foaming soap all over my body. But I'll never gripe about paying gym fees seeing as how we cost them about that much in shower soap every time we swim.

The next day, I took the kids up north to tour some local farms. I had no idea we had so many farms an hour's drive away! There were goat farms, fiber farms, produce farms, and dairy farms! 

Being farmers:

Before our hayride, I tried to get some good shots of the boys together. HA. Nice try mom.

They look so thrilled.

I asked them to be nice to each other. So Jacob went in for a kiss.

Ryan was clearly a big fan.

Then, conveniently, Ryan had an itch on his head.

SMACK. Didn't see that one coming, did ya?

Good thing Jake thought it was pretty funny. If Ryan doesn't stay cute, he's probably going to get the hell beat out of him on a regular basis.

Seriously? You can't both look at the camera at the same time? 

Please note: I am wearing my cowboy boots. And I stepped in real cow poop! Now they are authentic!

 

Jacob enjoyed the hayride.

Mostly.

 

Then we got a good look at all the dairy cows. Dairy cows are so pretty. I have a thing for cows. I think it started with a cartoon called Cowboys of Moo Mesa.

George Jetson was my first crush. Raphael the Ninja Turtle was my second crush. But Moo Montana...he was my first LOVE. I mean...look at that physique! And no, when I was in fourth grade it never occurred to me how odd it was that a cow was riding a horse. Now I see all kinds of wrong with it.

 

COWS!

 

I imagine this is what it's like to eat in the Duggar household every night.

 

LOOK! A nine day old baby calf! If you thought you had a big baby, thank your lucky uterus stars that you are not a cow.

We couldn't leave without taking tractor pictures. I mean I have boys. Duh.

As we were saying goodbye to Stardust (who just happens to be the same age as Ryan), Stardust decided to give Jacob an unexpected kiss.

I love cows! Can I have a cow? No, literally. I want a cow. I can pretend it's my love child with Moo Montana.