Everyone should have such exciting news

I'm feeling a bit self-conscious today. I'm wearing a yellow shirt. I haven't worn yellow in years, honestly, probably not since junior high when I had a "color analysis" done and was told I should never, ever wear yellow. Even my kids were surprised when I got dressed this morning. "Lellow!" Phoebe said, and Mallory said, "You're wearing yellow today?" It's a nice butter yellow, very subtle, it's nothing brash or loud. It goes nicely with my pants. I noticed that it makes my hair looks a bit blonder and my skin is kind of glowy. Maybe I should wear yellow more often. Gasp. What's next for me? High heels? String bikinis? (No, and most definitely no.)

Phoebe choked on a Life Saver this weekend. Longest twenty seconds of my life. It was pretty spectacular, especially since she'd just eaten a red popsicle. She is fine, the dress she was wearing and the carpet in Chris's studio may never be the same.

On Saturday we piled into the car to go someplace. I started everything up and then glanced back to see if Mallory had her seat belt buckled. She said, "I know, I'm doing it, okay?" I said, "Mallory, I just can't wait until you're 14." She sighed and said, "Whatever."

Comments

aimee said…

Yeah, she will be fun. ;)

Poor Phoebe. I am so scared when my kids eat candy it is hardly worth giving it to them. I always tell them, make sure and chew it up quickly! And they look at me like I am weird.

I bet yellow looks great on you! With your hair color and I bet it brings out the color in your eyes too! Yes, I sound like I really know what I talking about don't I?

11:51 AM

I ask you

This is my garden: Or rather, this is the patch of soil that was my garden last summer. It produced millions of tomatoes, dozens of green peppers, a handful of cucumbers, and two puny watermelons. I do not wish to repeat last summer's vegetable bounty, because most of said bounty went to waste. Nor, however, do I want this patch of soil to remain brown and bare throughout the summer, because it's unattractive. So, what do I plant here, in the shrubbery/flowery vein? Keep in mind that I do not have a green thumb. Also, I don't want to spend a lot of money. Also, this area is in full sun most of the day. And it's really hot. And sometimes we get rabbits. Any advice? To thank you in advance, I give you these goofy photos of my children and their homemade parfaits (which Mallory persisted in calling "specialinis").

It's what's for dinner

One of the things that I failed to appreciate about my mom until I left home is that she always made dinner (although I think we called it supper then), by which I mean, something hot, usually involving a vegetable. I don't remember my mom ever saying sheepishly to her hungry spouse and offspring, "I don't feel like cooking, how about a bowl of cereal?" I hate making dinner. Haaate it. It's my least favorite chore. It's not necessarily because I can't cook. I can usually manage to create something edible, although I have yet to perfect the science of getting, say, the chicken and the broccoli and the rice and the rolls all ready at the same time. (There are those among you who may be surprised that I make and serve broccoli. It's true! It's best when roasted: Toss with olive oil and salt, spread on a baking sheet, put in 400 degree oven for about 8 minutes. It's delicious! Delicious as broccoli can be, at least.) It's also not necessarily t...

the closet

Amy has challenged me to list 8 things that are hidden in the back of my closet. I try not to actually look to closely at the back of my closet, so these are my closest guesses: 1. At least three no-longer-needed diaper bags. 2. An outfit that I've been meaning to return to Land's End for at least six months now. 3. One of our wedding pictures, which has a broken frame which I keep meaning to replace. 4. Shoes, shoes, shoes, shoes. 5. Possibly a pair of fuzzy slippers. I miss those fuzzy slippers. Maybe I should brave the mess and go try to find them. 6. Baby blankets. 7. A few small toys that I meant to stick in the girls' Christmas stockings. Maybe next year. 8. And I'm guessing, a bunch of mismatched socks. My closet isn't very interesting, I'm afraid.

Always Remember That

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