We’ve climbed volcanoes,

seen natural wonders,

experienced scary wild rides,

and spent lots of time with family.

And it’s only our first day here!

We’ll be leaving soon for our trip…

My bags are {almost} packed…

My house is tidied for the wonderful and amazing friend who is housesitting…

We have suitcases full of sunscreen, snorkels, and underwater cameras…

And a surprise helicopter tour planned for the boys.

We have people to see, and memories to make.

This afternoon Jack walked into the den and said:

Hey Mom and Dad…

Ahula! We’re going to Hawaii!

Though I had some reservations about letting him go, Jack went on a field trip today with his preschool.

He went to an ostrich ranch.

Yes, those do exist.

Ask Kellie.  She has been there.

This is how he came back to me this afternoon:

And this is his story:

Mom, something very dangerous happened to me today.

What?

I was petting an ostrich and it bit me. Hard.

WHAT? WHERE?

Right here.

It was bleeding all the way down my arm.

Really? All the way down?

Yup. It was dripping off of my – what’s this called? Oh yeah, my elbow. But I didn’t need a band aid.

What’s all over your shirt?

(Looks down) Oh, that’s strawberries. They were juicy.

Wow. It looks like blood.

(Big smile) Yeah, it does.

When we first got to the farm, the man showed us how to pet the ostriches. He said “Do you want to know how to pet an ostrich? Hold its neck, and pet the side of it’s head.”

Oh wow. Really? (Because that obviously didn’t work so well for you.)

{Let’s ignore the waffles that we had for dinner, ok?}

Then he said “Do you want to know how to kiss an ostrich?” and then HE KISSED IT!! EWWWWW!!

And then we petted these parrots. And they didn’t bite us.

Then we petted the ostriches. And the one ostrich, he looked at me like this:

And I gave him some food, then he bit me like this:

and that’s when I started bleeding all over.

But not really all over, right?

Yeah. Then I got to ride a goat. And I fed the goat after I rode it. Like this.

The we went to Mt. Lemmon and we saw a cave, and there was a bear in the cave.

Jack, Mt. Lemmon is on the other side of town from where you were.

But I was there, Mom.

Ok, dear.

Then our teachers gave us b.b. guns and we shot at the bears. And they ran away…

Jack, I think you’re lying a little bit.

Yup, I am.

Ok. Can you tell me the truth about your field trip?

Well, what if I grabbed the ostriches neck after he bit me? Like this:

Wow. I’m glad you didn’t do that.

Yeah.

I had so much fun on my field trip.

I want to go again tomorrow.

Today, Mom could be found at the zoo with 2 of the cutest boys in Arizona:

Then it was off to get pretty at the salon. Jack was a trooper and went with me; we had 3 hours to play with sticker books, watch shows and play games on the ipod touch, and get spoiled by my hairdresser (who loves to pass him candy).

Why, yes, I did just post a picture of myself with foils in my hair. I may regret that in the morning.

Can you spot the new dimple under Jack’s left eye from when he fell into the coffee table 2 months ago? Ouch.

After getting home and eating dinner, Michael and I hung out on the couch (and read some more of the Percy Jackson book).

I am thinking about adding a tag that says “make-up free Mom” so that you guys can expect the shiny face…

Have a wonderful week!

I need some help this week…

I bought this adorable (and comfortable) dress at Old Navy this weekend:

And it poses a huge problem for me.

See, when I do laundry, I sort it into 5 piles.

Blacks, darks, lights, whites, and towels and underwear (combined. on hot).

WHICH PILE DO I PUT THE DRESS IN???

Bloggable Moment:

Your son stops to pee on the side of the road on the 1/4 mile walk home from the bus stop.

{Un}bloggable Moment:

Your son happily (and honestly) tells your sister-in-law that Mommy always rolls her eyes when she talks about her. (Because it’s better off just sweeping that moment far under the carpet and never talking about it again)

Bloggable Moment:

While your boys are using Daddy’s putting machine, it starts smoking. The subsequent e-mails sent between Mommy at home and Daddy at work are definitely bloggable.

{Un}bloggable Moment:

Your Aunt gives you this as a Christmas gift.

You’re dying to blog about it, but she reads your blog.

—–

I have an {un}bloggable moment at least once a week.

Some worse than others.

And I’m dying to hear about yours.

So, here’s your o-fficial invitation:

Who: You!

What: Share your {un}bloggable moments

When: The 2nd Saturday of every month… Starting March 13th!

Where: Right here…

Why: Because we all need to share our crazy {un}bloggable stories and laugh at everyone else’s!

How: I’ll put up a post, and you’ll comment on it (anonymously, of course). I would love it if you leave your e-mail address so that I can respond to your comment. If you don’t want to, that’s fine, too.

I can’t wait to hear all of your stories!

*I should mention that I love ALL of my sisters-in-law, and that none of my Aunts would ever give me a toilet clock.*

*Ooohh, and I’ll be adding my {un}bloggable secrets in my comment section, as well!*

In this house, Sunday is laundry day.

Well, Sunday is the day I wash and dry the laundry.

It usually takes me another day or two to fold it and put it away.

But today, my one and only helped me out.

So right now, the laundry is washed, dried, folded, and put away.

Yippee!!

Except for one thing.

I just looked in my closet.

Take a look:

Do you see what I see?

I see 12 pairs of black yoga pants (in various lengths, of course).

Oops.

Obviously, this post isn’t about my fashion sense.

I wear what’s comfortable.

And yoga pants are comfortable.

Last fall, I gave Steve a hard time after I counted his shorts.

He has 28 pair.

Me: ”You could wear a different pair of shorts every day for almost a month and never double up!”

Steve: “No, I couldn’t. Some are dressy, some are for yard work, some are for golfing…”

I bet if I tried hard I could come up with a reason to keep all 12 of my black yoga pants.

Me: “Some are older and faded, some are nice, some are strictly for running or going to the gym.”

And I can hear it now…

Steve: “But still, you have 12 pair of black yoga pants!”

Oh.

I just noticed something.

Crap.

13.

Mom has been on the couch with Michael reading The Lightening Thief for the past few nights.

(Michael loves it, but Mom thinks it’s a teensy bit scary)

We’re determined to finish before Friday so that we can have a family (Mom, Dad, and Michael) date night and go see the movie.

Jack will be ditching us for his girlfriend across the street – They’re having a sleepover.

Apparently her mother hasn’t learned her lesson with Jack living across the street… She invited him over!!

Let’s all say it together… “Sucker!!”

Just kidding.

Kind of.

The kids are off for Rodeo break today and tomorrow, which means that Mom doesn’t spend too much time on her appearance. We have been way too busy having fun to worry about silly stuff like make-up.

Because of that, I played with Picnik a little…  I have been trying to figure out how people put color back into their black and white photos, so it was fun to have some time to do that.

And…  do you see that that new little box to your right?

The fancy schmancy one that says Unbloggable Moments?

Go look. I’ll wait.

I’ve been very busy with that this week, and I can’t wait to tell you all about it.

Keep your eyes peeled…

During the first half of kindergarten, I walked him all the way to his classroom.

Every day thereafter, I dropped him off one foot further away.

On the last day of kindergarten, I walked him to the school’s gates and he walked in on his own.

During first grade, a teacher had to meet us at the playground and physically hold him back so that I could leave in the morning.

Every morning.

It was awful.

During second grade, I dropped him off in front of the school.

I opened his door for him and received a big hug and kiss before he reluctantly walked to his classroom.

During third grade, he opened his own door after leaning forward and giving me a kiss goodbye.

This year, I open the back hatch for him with a button by the steering wheel.

He gets out all by himself, too busy talking with his friend to notice that his Mom told him to have a great day.

Too busy looking for his other friends to stop at the passenger side door and give me a kiss.

But I’m not willing to let go yet.

I open the passenger window and tell him I love him.

He only gets embarrassed when I follow him and proclaim my love for him by yelling “Michael… I looooooove you!”

The camera might be a bit much, I admit.

But it keeps me from being sad that this year, I’m just a ride.