Your Dang Towel…

Your Dang Towel…

Woo Hoo! Spring Break! Eight weeks until school is out! Happy Dance!

Tuesday we headed down to Destin. We made the customary stop over at Dean’s Cake House in Andalusia. Such a good decision. Her cakes are AMAZING. And there’s nothing that says ‘let’s put on a swimsuit‘ like gorging yourself on cake. Am I right?

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Dean’s Cake House serves seven layer cakes. Seven glorious layers. Here we see Jamie just abandoning the fork and eating the thing with his hands.

And y’all can thank me for the lovely, um, gas station backdrop here. What can I say? I’m a really classy blogger.

Oh, James. He was a total rockstar on this trip. He did this pretty much the entire time:

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Played with Stella and was just generally really helpful.

I try to remember these images when I see he’s left his wet towel on the floor. Again. For real, y’all, I don’t think that child has ever picked his towel up without being asked. Not one stinking time.

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I mean…what’s so hard about picking your towel up? Hey parents, has anyone conquered the towel on the floor situation?

Every afternoon:

Him: “Can I play the X-Box now? My chores are done.”

Me: “Go pick your towel up off the bathroom floor.”

Him: “Ok…he runs off and does it…Okay. How about now?”

Me: I guess…

The towel and his dang math grade. Those are the two things he’s troubling me with these days.

 

Troubling to Billy these days is the length of this Henry’s hair.

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I, on the other hand, think he looks adorable and refuse to take him to get it cut. Although, if I tell him I think it’s adorable he’ll probably insist on getting it cut. 

Also…The super exciting news that came out of this trip is that James has discovered sweat pants. “Mom, how could you have been hiding these from me my whole life?”

Uh, I wasn’t.

“Mom, why don’t they just make all clothes out of this material?”

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Preach it, kid. Preach it.

And pick up your dang towel.

 

Die Snow Die

Die Snow Die

Well, I don’t know about you people but I’ve had just about enough of this white stuff.

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Good gravy, my ten year old’s hair. The last couple haircuts the boys have gotten have been so bad that now I’m gun-shy. So, they look like crazy hippies, as Billy would say. 

Saturday we spent all day outside basking in the sunshine. Even though there was still some snow on the ground the weather was warm enough not to worry about it.

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“Die Snow Die!!!”

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Your probably not an entomologist but any clue what this weird cocoon/pod thing is? It was pretty cool looking. If you’re into that kind of thing.

Ya know, the nature kind of thing.

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We blew bubbles and the kid’s rode their scooters and we basically just frolicked.

Yep, we frolicked.

It’s been raining all week but at least the weather is warm so even though, like all you other people, we are suffering the ill effects of the Spring forward of the clocks I’m still thankful.

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Also thankful that James’ foray into the world of double scooting didn’t result in a trip to the ER. Double scooting – for when you want to make the twelve year old even more awkward.

This weather though? Not awkward.

Good for you, weather.

Photobombing at the Zoo

Photobombing at the Zoo

This weekend we packed up the kids and headed to Birmingham. Friday night we went to the state basketball championship. Unfortunately our team lost but it was a testament to the guy’s hard work that they made it that far. Number two in the state ain’t half bad. Oh, calm down, Autocorrect. I can use the word ain’t if I want to. 

IMG_2072The nieces came and kept Stella occupied. So between her cousins, the funnel cake, and my iPhone she did pretty well with that nine pm start time. Although I yawned quite a bit.

Saturday morning we went to the zoo with my cousin’s Margaret and Lauren. And, hey guess what! For the first time in the history of us, me and Billy did not fight at the zoo. You should be impressed. For some reason zoos make us fight. Eh…now that I think about it we did kinda fight on the way to the zoo. Whelp, that just doesn’t count. No fighting INSIDE the zoo – for the win!

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“I’m not impressed.”

Shut it, flamingo.

Hey speaking of flamingos, this flamingo totally photobombed us.

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So, of course, we thought that was just about the funniest thing ever so we proceeded to attempt other photobombs.

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This cat was SO DANG CUTE.

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It’s eyes were HUGE. Really, eyes in picture are larger than they appear.

We stole my eleven year old niece for the weekend. If you’re going to the zoo with littles I highly recommend borrowing an eleven year old girl.

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They are very efficient at crowd control. This is the cool crowd we went with. Notice the excessive amount of belly fat that child in my niece’s arms has. It’s epically awesome. 

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The even cooler crowd.

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Yeah, I’m wearing a monogrammed jacket. I have mixed feelings about it. I may be too old for it. If you see me sporting ribbons in my hair, stop me. Because I’m kind of thinking that would be a good idea but the older I get the less fashion sense I have.

Speaking of fashion sense, how about my nephew:

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This kid. Four point four GPA, cross country star, amazing saxophone player, ranked number one academically in his class in his 6A school, AND he loves my kids well.

We took him to lunch at Little Donkey in Homewood on Sunday and peppered him with things like:

“Do you need any lectures? How about the drug lecture? We’re great at the drug lecture!” 

“No, I’m good.”

How about a lecture about drinking? We can do that one too!”

“Heard it.”

Tell me more about you social life!”

“Oh, Aunt Paula.”

He totally loved it. Uh huh, loved it.

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“I’m not buying it.”

Dang it. Judgmental flamingo strikes again!