If an event doesn't make it to the blog, did it really happen?

Sometimes, pictures I take don't make it to the blog. Of course, if they don't make it to the blog, they don't get published in the blog book. And if they don't get published in the blog book, they get lost forever in cyber space. And that's not ok! :)
 Ok, so it's probably okay. There are a lot of memories already going on here. But I have a pretty terrible memory and usually don't remember anything unless I can go back and relive it, either by words or a pic of some sort. So, here are some moments in these last weeks I don't want to forget:

First, more knitting. Did I even show you my owls? Yes, I remember the first owl was created back in Utah and there IS blog evidence. I made another when I got home, a bright pink one who we named "Big Bertha" for her size and girth. Afterwards, we went searching for a new project. And by "we," I mean Annie because she is both the most supportive family member in regards to this new hobby AND the most likely recipient of the knitted treasures. She asked for leg warmers, I made them! It only took me five and a half years! They were supposed to be 26 inches but I stopped a few inches after this picture because with 52 of the same back and forth knit/pearl stitches in each row for 97 rows, IT WAS ALREADY ENDLESS ENOUGH. Annie didn't seem to mind, and word on the street is that her ballet buddies would all like a pair. Yikes!
Annie is spending more and more time at the ballet studio. Sometimes I wonder if this is what "normal" 8 year olds do. But Annie has never been very normal, and this place of discipline, grace, and hard work seems to fit her like a glove, so I'm happy to get her there. Here's a souped up picture I took of her sometime last week, practicing her variation for YAGP in January. New leg warmers included, woot!
 Next, Z's actual birthday. B was out of town, so we had to find a way to make it special. Someone thought up the brilliant-then-ridiculous idea of eating out for breakfast, lunch, and dinner. Bojangles, Chick-Fil-A, and Super Taco later, wow, we were spent. Oh wait, first we ate cake from Publix. Then we were spent. We also played an immense amount of games that day, while Annie Nutcrackered. When wondering what color my dining room it, please refer to the left side, below.
 (I asked for goofiness in this next shot. I received a teenage sulk, crossed eyes, and a third finger. Oopsie!)
 Happy real birthday Z! We can't do that eat out every meal again for a long while, ok?
 Finally, this third child of mine. He continues to fill my day with cheekiness, from his head to his toes (which sometimes find their way to the table).
 He likes to begin every (and I mean EVERY) sentence with,  "Mom, guess WHAT."  To which I have to reply, "What?" or else he will repeat, "Mom, guess WHAT" over and over until I can't take it any more. (I can just picture my grandma Mimi saying, "Don't say what, say yes grandma!")
 He also likes to express how he's feeling by saying, "My body feels like....."
For instance, right now it's 10pm and I just told him it's bedtime (he had a long car nap today) and he replied, "My body feels like.........3 more minutes of playing!" Who can argue with that?
He will also tell me his body feels like screens (as opposed to playing with his cars or books or any of the hundreds of other toys we have) and his body feels too terrible to clean up most of the time.  So in other words, he's a normal 4 year old and I love his guts. Especially when his body feels like a snuggle.
One night I tried to capture a pretty dusk-plus-bike experience. We went down to the end of the street, took one smile-y picture, then his body felt "uh-SAUCE-sted" and we limped back up the 25 yards to our driveway. Good thing he's so cute.
Okay, back up to date with pictures!

Comments

wyomingmom said…
love it all. We got carrots from our garden and they were small and round and reminded me of Soren. Great knitting projects. and Happy birthday and dancing.
walt or jean said…
Great memories and moments captured by a loving mom.