Ugh.

I am currently hopped up on a lot of Nyquil. If I drunk dial you, just hang up. I won't be offended. Maybe.

Happy 3rd birthday, Alana

Three years ago yesterday the Universe presented us with this: 

Just look at that lump of baby. Plus the awesome mullet.

In three years, she has grown into this:

I didn't realize until now that her swimming cover and water table match.

This is what she thinks of growing up. I concur.

Still trying to convince Alana that her changing table is not bunk bed

Amazing what you find two years later

These are pictures of a scarf that I made my sister-in-law a couple of years ago. She took the pictures (which is why they actually look good). It's made up of over a hundred yo-yos stitch together with a surrounding band.

A dragon and his boy

This is Dragon. He came from the magical land of Ikea. 

Dragon lives in the mailbox.

This is Dragon's boy, Liam. They discovered each other on Christmas day.

Dragon tries to go everywhere with Liam. The car and the store and the park are fun places to go! Dragon is a constant companion. 

After a hard day of playing, it's bedtime. 

Even Dragon looks exhausted.

If you're wondering why Liam is Captain Underpants, it's because we're currently on month 9 of potty training. Damn sensory issues.

Happy dead saint day

Valentines template and instructions here.

So I was making the above Valentines on Saturday night for Liam's class. After an hour of watching Jonathan Creek (don't judge me) and gluing googly eyes on tootsie pops, I ask Justin how they looked before I cut out the wings.

Justin: "Like sperm with eyes."

Me: "Uhhh, well I glued the eyes on. So basically a tootsie pop looks like sperm to you."

Thank you Justin, for I will never be able to eat a lollipop seriously again. Happy dead saint day to you too.

P.S. I've made the above valentines twice now, and both times it was super easy and looked cute (after they stopped looking like sperm with eyes) and I highly recommend them.

How to feed your kids watermelon

Step 1: Go to the grocery store. While shopping, notice your kids crying while frantically pointing and waving at some small watermelon in a box.

Step 2: Grab one and finish your shopping while both your kids cradle the watermelon between them like it's a precious treasure.

Step 3: Drive home, realize you desperately need to go to the bathroom while your 4-year-old tries to convince you he can carry the watermelon up the stairs. You relent despite the fact it's bigger than his head.

Step 4: Run to the bathroom only to be interrupted a few minutes later by the 4-year-old whining about the watermelon being "broken" because he dropped it on the stairs. Sigh and tell him to put it on the kitchen table.

Step 5: Walk back to the kitchen to find this:

Isn't that such a satisfied look on Alana's face?

Needless to say, Justin and I didn't get any.