june?

What was your rush?  I swear we blinked and you were gone.  And regardless of the weather you provided us (thanks for nothing), we still managed to have a good time.

Lauren had a 4th birthday party Diego style.  And the entire greater Eastside was in attendance.  We had a hoot rescuing all the animals and diving for candy that spilled from the Diego pinata.

Rudy got a tubby.

We got to kidsit these two little yahoo's and had the most fun.  Until bedtime when Hadley made Madline cry by stealing her pillow, then stealing her sleeping bag, then telling her 'noone can EVER be in my room.'  I swear she's going to be an ax murderer.

We pissed off this kid.

We helped our favorite nephew turn 2 at a BMX inspired birthday bash.  All the kids had a great time riding around the race track.  Everyone except our sweet Hads, who sat behind a tree, on her scooter, determined to not let a soul touch it...or maybe she was just hiding her ax.

Then we got to see this little guy turn one...we whore ourselves out for birthday party invites.  His mother (the famous Loosy) outdid herself and all the other mothers by having the cutest cupcakes of all time, a tent for the kiddos, and a pinata that you actually got to smack.  There's something about the fear of having your kid smacked by a bat that adds to the excitement of a party.

We met up with some of our favorite folks...The Johnstons, at one of our favorite places...Redhook.  Where the dads thoroughly enjoyed their Dad's Day and paid not one bit of attention to their children.

Rudy got a cone.

And that's that...

Word.

where for art thou Hadley's mom?

I have been a bad blogger...for no other reason than my house seems to get destroyed whenever my 100% full attention is not on my little hoodlum.  She has no idea how lucky she is that she chose to graffiti the coffee table with washable markers.  We're talking dirt nap trouble.

*and honest to God she did this during my last post.  And was quite proud, until she saw my face...then she threw the markers and ran.  No joke. 

my daddy.

i love you because...

you are the best.

your back hurts.

you win bike races.

you drive bikes with Lauren.

you have a body.

xoxo

Hadley P.

*i asked if she liked Daddy's body or just liked the fact that he had a body.  She said she indeed 'just liked that he had a body'.  I guess I'm kind of thankful that he's not just a bald head rolling around too...I'd have to keep the floors a lot cleaner.

HAPPY FATHER'S DAY.

snap to it.

The cutest little toystore is about 5 miles from our house.  It's named 'Snapdoodle'.  We frequent it often.  I love me a good toystore.  I pretty much love any place where I can spend money, in all honesty.  And I love anything with 'doodle' in the name.  They even offer little art classes for kids...and mama's get to leave, for an hour, and grocery shop, by themselves.  Have I mentioned that I love this place?  And so does Miss Jane. 

how to throw a BBQ.

BBQ'd pulled pork.  A Shot-ski.  Baked Beans.  A waterballoon toss.  A grandma to play with the kids.  Endless libations.  More shot-ski's.  Filthy kids.  Impromptu dancing.  The ARMY cheer.  A Mickey-D's  run.  Chips and Guac.  Dog poop.  A fire pit.  Endless chatting.  Bubble wands.  Fresh homemade salsa.  A Storm Trooper mask.  Full belly's.  Loads of laughter.  Double fisting.  Capri's and flip-flops.  A big backyard.  Feeling right at home.  The best company you could ask for, and certainly the most fun. 

All of the above...CHECK!

the joys of a birthday.

She gets it.  She totally gets it.  She knows that a birthday celebration equals candles, singing, cake (although she doesn't like cake, only cupcakes, she informed me...and oddly enough, I agree with her), presents, and fun.  And she loves nothing more than being everyone's birthday 'helper'.

just in case you were worried.

Okay, okay...I promise...I do love her three-year-old little guts.  And here are just a few reasons why:

We were at a friends house and before the kids ate dinner the mom asked each kiddo what they were thankful for...

Grace: "I am thankful for Jesus."

Hadley: "I am thankful for my Mama and potty talk."

I walk into Hadley's room the other morning, as we're running late, and I see everything pulled out of her dresser drawers and unpacked from her bag.  I, exasperatedly say,

"Oh Hadley."

And she looks right at me, with a her pointed little finger, and says

"Mama, you are VERY welcome!"

Me:  "Hadley, want to go to the zoo today?"

Hadley:  "No.  It's scary."

Me:  "What?  What's so scary about the zoo?"

Hadley:  "The crocagators."

Hadley:  "Mama, how do babies get out of the Mama's tummy's?"

Me:  "How do you think they get out?"

Hads:  "I think a doctor cuts the Mama's tummy, and grabs the baby, and the Mama has blood on them."

Me:  "Well it's not always that morbid, there's a nicer way they can come out."

Hads:  "How is that way?"

Me:  "They come out of the Mama's vagina."

Hads, after about 15 seconds worth of gut busting giggling, "Mama YOU ARE SO SILLY...pee pee comes out of ginas, not babies.  I'm telling Daddy you talked potty talk."

three year olds suck.

So I've been hearing about the 'age three' since Hadley's first birthday.  Anytime you complain about your kids to well seasoned parents, they just look at you and smile.  Veteran parents love to burst new parents bubbles at any opportunity available.  The old game of 'you think it's bad now...just wait.'  Every Mama I've ever met has told me, 'The terrible two's are nothing.  Three year olds are awful.'  And for awhile I just didn't buy it ('no...not my perfect little angel', I foolishly thought). 

After Hadley's third birthday I remember talking to Ryan and saying 'I don't know what all the talk is about, three year olds are great.'  That was then, this is now. 

I hate three year olds.  It's why I've been absent from the blogging world.  I've got nothing nice to say.  Hadley is the devil, disguised in a size 5 Pull-up and super cute wedge haircut.  One morning we just woke up, and the charming, fun loving, gal we knew and loved had been replaced by a parent loathing, irrational, oblivious, bitter, schizophrenic, compulsive, completely deaf, deprecating, amnesic, snot faced, brat.  We'll call her Sybil.  In the past three weeks, Sybil, has easily been given 105 time-outs.  Screams, cries, and convulses every single time we say the word 'NO' (although we had no qualms when she was running with scissors the other day).  Screams, cries, and convulses every time she doesn't get to do something 'all by herself' (even if that includes pouring a two gallon carton of milk into her cereal...without help).  Screams, cries, and convulses every time something doesn't go just right (for example, if she has a problem getting her baby out of a highchair.  She saves it for the major stuff).  She has been spanked (judge me, I don't care, I'm just proud of myself for leaving all of her teeth intact), she has been shut in her room with the door locked (while I sat outside, took 52 deep cleansing breaths, and a shot of Jack), and she has been losing her most prized possessions at an alarming rate (we'll be having a garage sale soon).  And what has all this done for us...NOTHING.  She's still bipolar.  She's still constantly testing those ever present boundaries and our ever diminishing patience.  She's still screaming, crying, and convulsing at any opportunity that seems appropriate (which, in her deluded mind, is every 15 minutes or less).  And she's still three years old.

 In the meantime, Ryan and I are looking into Boarding Preschools (we're thinking somewhere nice in China), and/or selling her on craigslist (we'll throw in two of Ryan's bikes and our BOB stroller), and/or taking her to that church in Midwest where you can just leave them on the doorstep, no questions asked, and, more importantly, no take-backs.  The good news is...she turns four in 289 days.  The bad news is...I don't know if she'll make it that long.

  And for all you baby adoring parents...just you wait...three year olds suck.

a tad ticklish.

This girl has the absolute best giggle of anyone I've ever met.

zoo days.

Nothing better than letting the wild animals hang with their kind.  I will say though, as much as I thought I hated the zoo (I don't trust the free roaming peacocks and have no patience for watching animals sleep), it gets a lot more fun the older the kids get.  And luckily, Hadley has no interest in having me read her all the fascinating animal facts on the plethora of educational zoo signs, she'll either need to learn to read first, or hell will have to freeze over before I get that involved in our outing (I mean really, does anyone actually give a sh*t what a Tapir does in it's free time).  We're in, we eat, we're out...a drive-by zooing, just what it should be.

our favorite lady's.

            HAPPY MOM'S DAY (one week late)...

...to the best two Mama's we know. 

You gals are pretty darn special, and nothing short of amazing.  I think her smiles say it all. 

here we go again.

Cycling season is in full swing...it makes me want to vomit my heart swell.

Go Ry Go.

I must say you do look pretty cute in your spandex.