Monday, March 2, 2015

Life As We Know It

 My kids are doing this thing that is mildly irritating. Its called growing.
Please make it stop.

Anna seems especially intent on leaving babyhood for toddlerhood and I am not okay with this. Why does no one consult me? Nobody even cares about my feelings. Waaahhh!

In Anna's defense, with great growth, comes great cuteness.
Behold, a series of oatmeal eating photos:





End series.

In walks a sassy cowgirl from Toon Town.
I made the TERRIBLE mistake of teaching Evie the song, "She'll Be Comin' Round the Mountain." She makes me sing it to her five times a day while she wears her cowgirl hat and mounts me as her faithful steed. Not only is it obnoxious, but its also awful on my back.



My clean laundry stays clean for about ... thirty seconds. Anna thinks that any laundry basket is a transportation device. 



My playful girl. 
She loves to play chase, hide n seek and steam roller.



And the O.C.D. lives on. Evelyn immaculately arranges her friends before they play "school." She typically makes me be the assistant teacher (Mrs. Perez, from her preschool) and she gets to be the head teacher (Mrs. Svendsen). Olaf is always the naughty child and Bear Evelyn basically gets to do everything. Its quite entertaining.



Evie's Bistro is still making a killing.


Every morning when we make the bed, the girls jump on and request some assortment of Disney songs. They refuse to jump on the bed before its made. It HAS to be made, with all the pillows on display before they can dance and jump around.



This girl! She HATES getting her diaper changed/getting dressed. Always has and I'm most certain she always will. I think she was a nudist in another life.



The dancing nudist.


Its quite fine by us.


When Grandma goes out of town, Grandpa can't fend for himself. So he often comes over to our house to eat, play with the kids, socialize, etc. Evie couldn't WAIT to give Grandpa her pony hair.



Grandpa was pretty excited too.


Disturbing.


One morning while I was "getting ready," AKA brushing my teeth for thirty seconds and putting my greasy hair into a nasty bun, I realized how similar Nick and I are.
Exhibit A: His and Hers bathroom counters.



Nick rarely leaves anything on the counter. And when he does, its always lined up perfectly. My bathroom counter however, is an assortment of breakfast leftovers, Sunday's flat iron (the one day I do my hair), sweaty headbands, and beauty products that I wish I had more time to use. A match made in heaven.

Welcome to Evie's Land.



Its a fun place where you ignore your parents and do whatever you want.



When they try and get you to leave church, you take your sweet time.


When they threaten to leave you, you ignore them.



And when they take Bear Evelyn and Ket away, you hastily leave Evie's Land to rescue your friends.
Until next time, Evie's Land.


And now, a series of awkward photos where only one or none of my children are looking at the camera. At least Olaf's looking.









Aaaaaaaand, boredom.


I have such a love/hate relationships with Sundays. Sometimes they are so insanely crazy that it just feels exhausting, like an extra Monday or something. However, on the rare occasion that we don't have additional church meetings, firesides, etc. its so nice to DO ABSOLUTELY NOTHING. I love it. We come home, take naps and just veg all day. Does this make me a lazy sack of a human being? Probably.





The era of restaurants is officially over for us. When your baby is under a year, you can sort of take them anywhere. They just sit in their carseat or highchair. For awhile we reached a golden point where Ev was usually pretty good at restaurants and Anna was still a wee babe. Now Anna is crazy insano-psycho wanting to run all over the place. No bueno!




"Hey Mom, don't come in your room okay? I'm going to rest for a little bit."


"Hey Mom! Look at all these cute stickers on Charlie's head!"


Me: "Ev! These aren't stickers! They are stamps and they are extremely expensive! Please don't waste them!"
Ev: "No Mom. They are Christmas stickers. Trust me."



Just call me Jeremy.



The post-work/dinner wrestles.






We love our Dad!

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