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Archive for the ‘Megan’ Category

this moment

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I’ve learned a few things lately:

– Sleep is overrated. Coffee is not.

– Cat poop on my shoe stinks. But cats catch rats.

– (Accidentally) doubling the butter in the frosting makes it extra yummy.

– You can’t buy anything if you don’t go into the store.

I’ve seen a few things lately:

– Bridget is now rolling over on purpose.

– Megan’s enthusiasm just explodes out of her.

– Kate doesn’t always appreciate this.

I’ve heard a few things, too:

– Daniel can (and does) comment on or question every, single, minute detail. Again. And again.

– Katelyn loves first grade. She’s going to marry a boy in her grade. (Upon the questioning by her grandma – because I’m not touching that with a ten-foot pole – she said the first reason was because he was funny like her Daddy. Too sweet.)

– Daniel says he’ll marry me.

– Daniel only wants me to read him train books. Or school bus books. Or fire truck books.

– Bridget loves to coo, giggle and squeak. Her latest noise is … unique, I’m not sure how to describe it.

– Megan sings great songs – especially to her little sister.

We’ve even done some fun things:

– Play dough.

– Climbing mountains.

– Walking to school really is a nice way to start the day.

– Playing in puddles at the farmer’s market.

– Reading.

– Candyland. Even Daniel can play.

– Puzzles.

– Sewing – bags are my latest kick.

 

Ok. There. We’re all doing well. And have not fallen off the face of the earth.

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Cutest kids ever. Courtesy of God. Photos by Shelliebaxterphotography.com.

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Marshmellows

Megan: I’m eating all the marshmellows!

Quizzical look from mama.

Megan: The ones in the air. (now condescending) They’re pretend.

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Pigs

Megan: Pigs can be whatever color they are.

Kate (slightly patronizing): I know about pigs. I’ve seen pigs. I’m thinking about pigs in my head!

Megan (confused): Pigs in your head?

I almost spit out the salad I was eating because I laughed so hard. Nice.

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A big question

A few minutes after I put the kids to bed, Megan came downstairs with a question.

“Mama, how do we spell my Moose?”

For a second I considered scolding her for getting out of bed, but decided against it – this time.

“It’s M-O-O-S-E. Please go back to bed. Good night.”

Good thing she asked, it probably would have kept her up all night.

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Jumping

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