Monthly Archives: March 2009

Today I Choose To Be Wonder Woman…

Have any of you ever left a comment on a Blogspot blog? Am I the only one that gets tickled when the instructions say to “choose an identity”?  

Sigh. I probably am.

Notice that I didn’t choose to be FlyLady in the title (I love it when a segue comes together. I also love the word “segue.”) So Day 1 of FlyLady Wagon Ride is complete. How’d we do, peeps? (It’s almost Easter, so I can call you that.) Did I complete 100% of the FlyLady tasks that I wanted to complete? No. Did I have a much more productive Monday than I have had in many Mondays? Yes, Alice, I did. (Thanks to the eleventy ten of you who called me Alice in the last post’s comments. You’re all so very cute.) And really, that’s the beauty of this program for me. You’ll always have room for improvement, but there’s no room for beating yourself up when you fall short of your goal. I am still trying to tweak my schedule to find out which things work better when. It’s a process, people.

Just a couple of tidbits….If you’ve never ever flown with the F.L. before and you haven’t already done so, check out the Beginner Baby Steps section at http://www.flylady.net  first. It takes you through the program in 31 glorious days, adding a little bit each day so that you aren’t completely overwhelmed with the system the first week.

Also, if you’re a more advanced flyer but you’re signed up for the individual emails, you’re setting yourself up for failure. Some people can handle the individual emails. We, my peeps, can not.

“Wait a minute!” I hear you say. “How does Whimzie Alice Snoodle-whatever know what I can and can not handle? Who does she think she is?”

Let me tell you how I know. You are a blog reader. You don’t need any enticement to come to the computer and check your email compulsively throughout the day. For many of us, the computer you’re staring at right this minute is a big part of the reason you need FlyLady in the first place. Am I right? Are you feeling me? G.P., are you with me? Can I get a witness? So, here’s what you need to do. You need to sign up for the daily digest email. They send it at crack-of-dawn-thirty each morning. Until I get a handle on things, I’m skipping right down through the daily digest until I see the Flight Plan for the day. That’s all my sweet little brain can handle for now. The only thing I didn’t see in that Flight Plan that I want to use right now is the Riley Challenge for the day. That’s a daily mission for the Little People. FlyLady has a whole little section on her webpage for kids but we’re just going to start with the Riley Challenges. Oh, to switch over to the daily digest emails, click on the link at the bottom of one of the millions of emails you’ve already received this morning.

P.S. Delete the emails on a daily basis. You don’t need to go back and read the testimonial about how FLYing reunited two long lost sisters or the one about the sweetest thing one FLYBaby’s daughter said about how cleaning the toilet was like giving the world a hug. Don’t go there. You’re not ready yet. Start slow and go. We are just babies. Sweet, marshmallow soft, beautifully colored, little Peeps.

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So, go forth and FLY with whatever identity you have chosen for today. Just be sure and tell me which identity you’ve chosen so I’ll recognize you in the sky! ;)

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Family Secrets Revealed….#2: The One(s) About Alice

I’m going to let you in on another family secret today. This one involves family friends we had when I was younger.  I don’t really remember when my mom and Marilyn became friends, but once they did it was as if her family had always been part of my family. Marilyn had three teenaged daughters and I was about five or so years younger than the youngest daughter. Our families spent huge amounts of time together and I have very special and fun memories of that family.

The dad of the family makes the best homemade ice cream on the face of this earth. Even if he gave you the recipe, you’d never be able to make it like Jake can. He’s also deaf as a post. (I know that’s not much of a segue, but I thought I’d start off with a compliment before I just laid the ugly truth out there.) Jake truly is one of the nicest, funniest people you’d ever want to meet, but if you do get to meet him, he probably won’t understand a word you say. But he’ll repeat to you what he thought he heard you say. Which is never what you said. But it’s almost always funnier.

Let me give you an example. Once upon a time, Jake and Marilyn walked into our house and Dad was on the phone. Mom told them that Dad was talking to Kay Wharton (she was a member of our church). Jake’s response? “Game warden? Why in the world is he talking to the game warden?”

One of Jake’s misunderstandings is so legendary that it has taken on its own persona. I’m not exactly sure why this gaffe became such an integral part of our family fiber, but to this day, if you are around any of us for any length of time, you will almost certainly hear us utter this phrase. So now, as the late great Paul Harvey would say, the rest of the story…

Jake and Marilyn were on their way to somewhere to do something and Mom and Dad weren’t going. As they were leaving, Mom jokingly said, “Don’t have fun without us.” Jake immediately asked, “Alice? Don’t have fun with Alice? Who’s Alice?” So even today, if you’re going to do something without one of us, we will almost always say, “Don’t have fun with Alice!”

There’s an addendum to the Alice story. Apparently Jake had Alice issues. Shortly after the “fun with Alice” incident someone said something about outer space. Jake said, “Alice’s face? What about Alice’s face?”

So, I’m off to do productive things. Today’s my first day back on the FlyLady wagon, you know. I’ll have to let you know about my first day back on track. I didn’t expect any of the rest of you to actually want to do this with the CPQ and myself, but I’m glad for those of you who are. But like I told Tiffani, this isn’t like the time I turned you on to Popcorn Crack so I don’t want any of you throwing timers or control journals or feather dusters at me later this week. You’ve been warned. Now go forth and FLY, but whatever you do, don’t have fun with Alice!

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I’ve Fallen in a Purple Puddle and I Can’t Get Out

FlyLady's FlyToon

 

I have a dysfunctional relationship with that little purple fairy lady. Do you recognize her? Do you know what it means to be dressed to the shoes? Is your sink shiny? Have you ever heard of Purple Puddles? Do you know what it means to live in CHAOS? Have you identified your Hot Spots? Have you ever divided your house into Zones? Then you might be a FlyBaby.

For any of you who do not have any idea what I was talking about in the previous paragraph, FlyLady is the alter ego of a lady named Marla Cilley. She has a program that helps you declutter and organize your house and life. She sends email reminders to keep you on track with her program. I have fallen off the FlyLady wagon so many times I have permanent road rash.  But I have better results on her program than any others that I have tried over the years. I’ve also read some of Peter Walsh’s stuff. Know him? He’s the guy from Clean Sweep and he’s on Oprah from time to time. He’s helped me understand a lot of the “why” behind my clutter.

Anyway, lately I’m struggling with maintaining an actual routine in my everyday life. I feel like I’m not being a good manager of my time and I don’t spend my time where I say my priorities are. I clean the same areas of my house and never seem to make any progress. I’m frustrated with my lack of discipline and order. I also know that we’re looking at a move in about three months and I don’t want to spend my last few weeks here obsessing about the junk I need to organize and pack. I need a system and a plan.

CPQ and I were IMing about our struggles in this area and we decided that…sigh…we’re climbing back on the FlyLady wagon starting this Monday.  I’ve changed my email delivery to daily digest so that I can’t be enticed to be on the computer every five minutes under the guise of “looking for my next FlyLady assignment.” We’ve decided that our daily email digest will be our marching orders for the next day, so technically we’ll be one day behind the rest of the FlyLady World. That seems about par for me. I hope that having an accountability partner will help me stay on track. CPQ has plenty of practice in motivating me to do what I’m supposed to be doing. Let’s hope I can be more of a help than an anchor to her.  

But let’s clear from the start of this new adventure. I will not refer to my husband as DH. I will not cry myself a purple puddle. I will not wear a vest to hold my cleaning supplies. I will not “bless the world” with the dust from my feather duster. But hopefully I will get a grip on my routines so that I can be more present in my own life and in the lives of the ones who mean the most to me. Anyone else want to FLY with us?

 

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A Snoodles’ Bible Addendum…

I completely forgot about one of my favorite Snoodle Bible stories when I wrote the earlier post. I’ll blame that on my foggy rhinovirus brain.

When they younger two were just little babies, FirstBorn was admiring them one day and he looked up at me with the sweetest smile and said, “Aw, aren’t they the cutest little Hebrew babies?”

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If the Snoodles Wrote a Children’s Bible

I love bedtime for the Little People and not for the reasons some of you are thinking. My husband usually does the bedtime routine and he has since FirstBorn was a baby. Usually he hasn’t had an opportunity to be with the kids all day and some days I’ve had more opportunities to be with them than I really feel like I needed at the time. It’s a win-win for both of us. After pajamas are donned and teeth are brushed, Dad settles the Little People together and reads a book and a Bible story and they all pray together before he tucks them into their beds. Sometimes I like to sneak in and listen to the discussions that sometimes ensue during Bible story and prayers. I think the Little People are their truest selves in these moments at the end of the day. Sometimes they  utter truths that are wise beyond their young years. Sometimes they spout out the funniest things I’ve ever heard.

I was telling my mom something the Princess Diva said the other night before bedtime and she jokingly said, “They need to write their own version of a Bible story book.” Yeah, that’s not going to happen, but I did think it would be fun to share with you a few gems I’ve collected along the way. 

When FirstBorn was barely three, story/Bible time was his one-on-one time with his dad. One night, Mr. Snoodle (I really need to settle on pseudonyms for these people!) came in the room after tucking in the FirstBorn and he looked like he’d been through the wringer.

“What happened to you?” I asked.

“I was totally unprepared! One minute we were talking about how God created everything. ‘Did God create all the animals?’ he asks. ‘Yes,’ I say. ‘Did God make all the bugs?’ he wants to know. ‘He did,’ I tell him. Then he pauses and asks, ‘So did God create evil?’ “

I asked him how he responded and I honestly think he had no idea what was said for the rest of that conversation. FirstBorn’s questions aren’t any easier five years later, by the way.

I was with them the night my husband told FirstBorn the story of  Adam and Eve. After he heard about the snake and the fruit and the consequences of their actions, FirstBorn gave a sideways glance at me before he looked his dad in the eye and said, “I hate to say this, but Eve should’ve sat down and shut up.” He wasn’t sure if he’d get away with that one because we don’t say “shut up” in our house, but his father and I were too busy picking ourselves off the floor to fuss.

A couple of nights ago, we were talking about heaven. The Little People have a vested interest because their daddy’s daddy already lives there. The younger two never met him and FirstBorn wasn’t even a year old when he died, but they’re very interested in knowing all there is to know about Pap and what he’s doing these days. BabyBoy was saying that Pap can’t ever get sick in heaven because there’s no sickness. I agreed and said that no one ever was sad or mad or afraid in heaven. FirstBorn said something about the devil not being in heaven and I affirmed that we wouldn’t even sin in heaven.

At this PrincessDiva sat straight up in bed and said, “You can’t sin in heaven?! But I want to sin!”

“What do you think ‘sin’ is?” I asked her.

“You know,” she said, “like when we send Papa cards and Ruby Jane pictures. I really love to send.” And she truly does.

So I tried to explain the difference between “send” and “sin” and we pondered whether or not heaven has mailboxes. BabyBoy is pretty sure no one can actually mail letters from there to here but he’s not sure if people who are already there can mail stuff to each other.

Just tonight we had one of those special moments that I’m so glad I didn’t miss. Since my husband’s out of town, I’m in charge of the bedtime routine this week. Tonight we read the story of the women coming to the tomb after Jesus died and was buried.  

I read from the book, ” ‘A voice said, “He’s not here. He is alive. He came back to life just as he said he would.” “He’s alive! He’s alive!” the woman shouted to her friends….’ “

PrincessDiva sighed and whispered, “I love that part.”

Oh, little PrincessDiva, me, too. And I love these precious little Snoodles He’s entrusted to my care.

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Pray for Stellan…

My Charming Kids
Prayers Please

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I’m Really Ever So Not Well…

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Only moms will recognize the title of today’s post. I love Charlie and Lola. More than my kids do, even. I think it’s the accents. I don’t know that I’d ever be able to discipline my children if they had British accents. 

But I didn’t come here to talk about Charlie and Lola. I really AM really ever so not well. I think I caught FirstBorn’s cold. I’m not sick enough to go back to bed but I feel too sick to want to do anything. Too bad for me. First of all, I can’t leave the Little People unsupervised. I’m trying ever so hard (I’ll be channeling Lola for the rest of the day, I’m sure) to finish a few projects around here before my husband gets back to town. The Little People could undo everything I’ve done before I could even find a Kleenex to blow my nose.

I think one of the dumbest ideas I have ever had was when we’d had a week of sickness at the Snoodle house. We don’t have many weeks like that. Apparently the theory that exposure to dirt builds kids’ immunity is true. Anyway, all the children had passed around the same germs to one another  and I was worn out from the wiping…whatever you’re imagining I was wiping, I wiped that week. By Friday, I was “wiped out.” I thought to myself, “I wish I could catch this next just so I could lie down for a minute.” Oh, you’d better believe I caught it. But there was no lying down. That week I realized the sad and cruel truth of motherhood that isn’t in the What to Expect books. “Sick mamas” get to do all the same things “well mamas” do, they just feel lousy doing it. 

So don’t get too close to your computer screen. I’d hate for you to catch my cold. Don’t worry about me. I’ll make it…somehow. Seriously, maybe I’ll push myself to finish my list today so I can collapse in a heap on the couch this afternoon….after we finish school. And swim lessons. And I figure out what we’re going to have for supper. And work on my continuing education credits for my nursing certification that expires in five days. Right after that, I’ll lie down.

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While the Hubby’s Away, the Wife Will….?

My husband has to be out of town for a few days this week. He’s always had to travel from time to time with his job so although I miss him, I’ve learned to make the best of less than ideal situations. In fact, I usually plan to use the extra time while he’s away to accomplish little projects that I tend to put off when I have the option of hanging out with him instead. However, with age and almost thirteen years (!!) of marriage comes wisdom, at least occasionally. Over time I’ve come to realize some disconcerting facts about myself. One, I procrastinate. Although I may have the best intentions and plans, I can usually find eleventy thousand other things to do instead of what I really should be doing. Second, I tend to overestimate what I can practically accomplish while my husband is away. Let me give you an example of what I’m talking about. I’ve made a list of unrealistic goals I’ve set to meet while Mr. Whimzie is away for five days. Keep in mind that two of the days had already passed before I made the list today. After each goal I’ve figured what would have been a more accessible goal and then I’ve given my prediction of what will actually happen. I’m Nostradamus that way.

Let’s look first at my goals for CLEANING AND ORGANIZATION this week.

UNREALISTIC GOAL: Completely spring clean the house. Inventory kids’ and my spring clothes and make list of needed items. Begin preparations for Easter outfits. Unpack spring decorations and have house completely decorated for Easter. Make plans to have friends over for dinner this weekend. Plan outfits for children and myself for the next month of Sundays; have them ironed and hanging together with accessories in the laundry room.

MORE REASONABLE GOAL: Clear a path through the downstairs guest room so the Little People don’t break their legs attempting to scale the mountains of junk that have accumulated there. Do two loads of laundry every day and put the clean laundry in its proper place.

MOST PROBABLE OUTCOME: I will stuff stacks of stuff under all available beds before my husband gets home. I will wash the same load of underwear and towels three times this week because I will forget to transfer them to the dryer. I will put much of the clean laundry that I washed,  dried, and folded last week back into the dirty clothes hamper because the Little People will have mixed it up with actual dirty laundry since it never left the laundry basket.

What goals have I set for myself in regards to TIME MANAGEMENT?

UNREALISTIC GOAL: Get up at 5 a.m. to spend a couple of hours in prayer and Bible study. Limit computer time to either 30 minutes before children get out of bed or 30 minutes after they go to bed. Begin on my plan to read the complete works of C.S. Lewis before we move this summer. Go to bed before 10 p.m. each night. Delete at least ten blogs from my Google Reader.

MORE REALISTIC GOAL: Reward myself with 15 minutes of computer time for every five items I complete on my To Do list. Finish the two books I checked out from the library before this weekend. Stop adding blogs to my Google Reader. Go to bed no later than 11 p.m. and get up no later than 7 a.m.

MOST PROBABLE OUTCOME:  I will start to make a To Do list on the computer but get sidetracked by something shiny on the Internet. I will catch up on TiVo shows that my husband doesn’t watch and go to bed no earlier than 1 a.m. Of course I have to read a few pages before I turn off the lights so I won’t actually go to sleep until 2 which means I won’t get up until 8ish. I’ll add every blog to my Reader that any other blogger ever mentions and try to find authors I like that might have blogs I need to read.

How about PHYSICAL FITNESS?

UNREALISTIC GOAL: Have “six pack abs,” no jiggle in my upper arms, and a firm backside by the time my husband gets home. I will eliminate all caffeine and sugar from my diet.

MORE REASONABLE GOAL: Figure out how to turn on the treadmill. Choose snacks wisely.

MOST PROBABLE OUTCOME:  The only aerobic exercise I will get will be the mad dash and stash I do as soon as my husband calls to tell me he’s on the way home from the airport. In other words, my only contact with the treadmill will be when I remove the folded stacks of clothes that I’ve sorted there. I will eat the vat of chocolate chip cookie dough that  I bought at Costco and wash it down with the rest of the Cokes that I told myself not to even buy in the first place.

Yeah, I have a tendency to crater under pressure. And then I want to berate myself for not accomplishing goals that were too lofty to achieve in the first place. Self-sabotage much?  I don’t think I realized until today that by not being realistic about my goals, I set myself up for defeat and give myself an excuse to not even try the next time. I’m not saying I shouldn’t push myself to do more than status quo, but I think I’ve realized that by not giving myself room to succeed I have more than enough room to fail. I’m sure most of you are much more disciplined than I am and you don’t need adult supervision to do what you’re supposed to do everyday, but apparently I do. But this week I want to do things differently. I want to be the grown up who does what she’s supposed to do. I want to prove Nostradamas wrong. Why am I telling you this? Because maybe if I put it in writing for my friends to see, I’ll hold my own feet a little closer to the fire.  I’ll let you know what I accomplish later on this week. Of course, if you have any tips or guidelines, feel free to share them with me! I’m always open to good ideas!

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Whimzie Ingalls Wilder Visits the Sugar Shack

This weekend, the family embarked on a super fun adventure! We went with some friends from church to the Moose Hill Maple Sugar Festival!! We drove to the Moose Hill Wildlife Sanctuary and were able to see how maple syrup is made! When I first saw the little blurb advertising it in our  bulletin, all I could think was:

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I am a great lover of all things Laura Ingalls Wilder. I read the books, watched the shows, used to pretend I was blind like Mary or married to Almanzo  (NOT Alonzo! Thanks, Gretchen! You’re a “JEWEL.” ;) ) like Laura. I used to read those books and wish I could spend Christmas with Laura and her family just once. Oh, to go to sleep to the sounds of Pa’s fiddle, all nestled close to Mary in a trundle bed. Well, this sounded like a little bit of the Prairie to me! If only I had a bonnet!

We all met at the church late Saturday morning. Before we left, we enjoyed a delicious brunch at the church, complete with plenty of maple-flavored treats. (Note PrincessDiva’s headband.)

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When we arrived at our destination, we had a little bit of time before our tour began so we went exploring through the woods with our friends. The boys picked up the first of the eleventy thousand sticks that they would collect throughout the day. If I said, “Be careful with that stick; you’re going to stick someone in the eye with that” once, I said it eleventy thousand times. Once for each stick. At one point, my oldest turned around and said, “Mom, you really need to quit worrying so much.” Of course he said that whilst trying to balance his way across a 2 inch-diameter twig that was stretched over a 90-foot deep canyon holding a tree trunk in each hand. My measurements might be a little off, but if I hadn’t issued a “Be Careful” then, my mom license would surely have been revoked. I think I’ve included a picture here of Baby Boy one of the aforementioned sticks.

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After the exploring came the guided tour. I really enjoyed it. Our guide was kid friendly and she gave enough information that I felt like we all learned something but not so many details that our ears were bleeding at the end. Unfortunately, I couldn’t concentrate on everything she said well enough to remember all the details (I had to count the Little People obsessively to make sure we hadn’t lost one, keep them from walking through the fires at the different stops, protect other tour participants’ eyes from the sticks, etc.) so if you really want all the specifics, you may have to do further research on your own. (You can re-read Chapter 7 in Little House in the Big Woods, for crying out loud.)

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My favorite parts of the tour? The parts where we were given the chance to taste stuff. Any tour that hands out samples is a good tour in my book. The first thing they let us taste was maple sap. I thought it would be thicker, but it was really the consistency of water. And it tasted like barely sweetened water. Hmm..I wonder if that was really sap in the bottle or if it WAS just sugar water. No, I’m not going to let my mind go there. It was really sap, I just know it. This is a picture of the PrincessDiva getting a sap sample. She would want you to note her polished fingernails. Her friend Hannah gave her a manicure last week and she’s very proud of it.

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On the next stop a French Canadian trapper named Jean Claude Pierre le Pepe du Luc au St. Marc (or something close, I couldn’t understand his “outrageous accent, you silly king”….shout out to all my fellow Python fans!) He was “waiting” for his Native American friends to come back. He told us the whole story about how they discovered you could boil tree sap and get sugar and syrup in the first place. I’m not telling you the whole story here though. I was glad it was a rather long story and that he didn’t mention his Native American friends again, because I could tell by the look on FirstBorn’s face, he was prepared to wait for those Indians to come back. He’s not usually distracted and  has his father’s “one track mind” gene, so our Canadian friend better be grateful he didn’t have any ‘splainin’ to do. In the bottom picture I think he’s showing us how they cooked using hot rocks.  

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SIDE NOTE: Outrageous Accent Boy completed his costume with a fur jacket. He didn’t have it on when we saw him on the tour, but later that afternoon when we were at the gift shop, he walked by wearing it. (I guess his Native American friends never showed.  Go figure.) I wish I’d taken a picture of it, but it looked something like this:

fur-coat-25-250I think maybe he borrowed it from his mom. Anyway, as he was passing by, I whispered to The Husband, “He looks like a p-i-m-p daddy.” I don’t know why I don’t just give up the spelling. First of all, I usually spell the wrong word. I’ve also been known to spell secrets in front of other adults, forgetting they could actually spell, and insulting their intelligence in the process. Finally, my children, especially FirstBorn, know how to spell. So I spent the next thirty minutes trying to ignore my son who repeatedly and loudly kept asking, “So, what’s a pimp? Why did you say he looked like a pimp? What IS a pimp?” 

On our next stop, Little Colonial Lady explained the drudgery of life in her time. She let the kids try on the yoke to get an idea of how heavy the buckets of sap could be. I’m surprised FirstBorn was able to stand under the weight, especially since picking his shoes up off the living room floor usually throws his back out for a week. I wish I’d made this picture a little bigger so that you could see the expression on his face a little better. I had just told him that we were having one of those specially made for his birthday next year and he was less than thrilled.

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Oh, look! More tasting. This time we got to try little bits of maple sugar. Of course it was good! It’s S-U-G-A-R!

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Our final stop was at The Sugar Shack. Well, The Sugar Shack is a little old place where we can get together. Sugar Shack, baby. Sugar Shack, bay-bee. Sugar Shack, that’s where it’s…Sorry. I couldn’t squelch my inner B-52 any longer. Actually the Sugar Shack is where the syrup magic happens. My favorite part, besides where we tasted the syrup, was when Mr. Sugar  Shack (I didn’t catch his name) showed us how they grade the syrup. Basically he pours some syurp in a glass bottle and compare it to a little set of syrups he already has to see how the colors match. It’s very scientific, apparently.  

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I think the whole fam had a good time. The weather couldn’t have been more beautiful. It wasn’t too terribly cold and the sun was shining. Most of the snow had melted last week so it wasn’t too muddy. We picked the best day to visit. And on the way back home, to what did our wandering eyes did appear?

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Five Guys Burgers and Fries!! If you have one of these near you and you’ve never eaten there, well then why in the world not? I ate the whole thing. On the way home, we had to stop and buy some ice cream at CVS because on the tour, Mr. Sugar Shack had mentioned that some people enjoy eating maple syrup on ice cream. The Husband and I are very suggestible, especially when it comes to food, so we knew before that day ended, we had to try it for ourselves. Never mind that we didn’t have any bread, milk, or cereal, we had to stop and get ice cream before we got home. I’m so glad we did because, good grief, Charlie Brown, that was good. Don’t bother squeezing some Aunt Jemima’s on your ice cream and expecting to get the same effect. It has to be the real deal….pure maple syrup. Which costs more per gallon than gas for your car, but it was so worth it. Besides you don’t need a gallon. It’s so much better than table syrup that you can get by with a smaller amount. Oh, my goodness. I’ve been maple syrup brainwashed. I may have become a maple syrup snob. I’ll try not to judge those of you who have Mrs. Butterworth standing in your pantry this very minute. I will truly try.

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 Don’t judge by the first picture of the FirstBorn. I think I caught him off guard.
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I think this is the point where FirstBorn stole my phone and decided to do his own photojournalistic impression of the day. He started off conservatively with his first picture:

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I could have done without the picture of me with my mouth full, but whatever.

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And then he ended with a few self-portraits. Here’s an example:

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So, to recap:  

2 large bottles of maple syrup: $10 a piece

Geodes from the gift shop that have nothing at all to do with the whole maple syrup experience but were NECESSARY additions to the Little Peoples’ collection of stuff and were worth the price of not having to hear about them the whole way back home:  $1 a piece

 Dinner at Five Guys: around $30

 The opportunity to break routine, do something we’d never done, embrace our inner Little House, and enjoy each other as a family:

PRICELESS!

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Silly Gymnastic Rules

“Mom, which headband matches?” (Meet my daughter, the headband addict.)

“I think this one goes best, but you know we’re going to have to put your hair into a ponytail before gymnastics, right?”

“Why?”

“To keep your hair out of your face and, well, it’s  one of Ms. Dottie and Ms. Jennifer’s rules.”

“I don’t like that rule.  It’s (rolls her five-year old eyes) so lame.”

Pause one, two, three, four…

Mom, what does ‘It’s so lame’ mean?”

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