Monday. Monday.

Thank goodness for these little lizards. Otherwise, Monday would've really sucked.

That Stella likes to watch The Black Eyed Peas on Oprah on You Tube. Oh, sweet technology. She's a pop princess. Even if we don't want her to be.

But enough about Monday. Let's talk about the weekend.

Henry is still writing. I like his latest subject.

And I bought my favorite thing ever this weekend. A pink plastic grocery cart with copious amounts of plastic food for Stella's kitchen. Turns out, plastic eggs and "pretend" boxed cereal really keep kids busy.

Who knew? Not me.

Really busy.

Also. Stella has started to show interest in potty training.

But not for herself.

And there was more writing as we said goodbye to the weekend on Sunday night.

Or Something.

Not that I consider myself a cool mom (Henry and Stella will definitely not think so in about 5 or 8 short years), but I love this site.

Just Weird.

Specifics.

This morning Henry wanted peanut butter toast for breakfast. But not just any toast. He said he wanted the bottom part with peanut butter and no top part. "Okay, mom. Just the bottom part. No top part."

At 6:30 AM it took me a minute to realize that he meant he wanted toast, not a sandwich.

"And orange juice - but only filled halfway. Okay, mom? Only half way."

Got it. My next profession will be that of a short-order cook.

Hanging the Moon.

Party 2.0

Well…we did spend a little time away from the big, blue dumpster this weekend.

Because we had some partying to do.

Our friends Matt and Michele have a boy. His name is Axel. And he turned 4. Henry has a friend at school. Her name is Ava. And she turned 5.

So, you know, we were busy. And we had some fun.

We’ve known and loved Axel (and Matt and Michele and Demi) since, well, the beginning of time. And I dig their circle of friends that comes around to celebrate.

Since we've loved them since the beginning of time, I have this dream that the kids (Axel, Henry, Demi and Stella) will be friends till the end of time. I sure hope it comes true.

But let me be clear that I wouldn't want the dream I have about being chased by a murderer through my old high school to come true.

Just clarifying which dream I'm hoping to make a reality.

And on Sunday, Henry was one of only two boys at Ava’s party. I think there were 13 girls and just the two boys. Which made me happy. Although he was DONE with the party when it was time to open presents.

He wasn’t as interested in princess clothes as the rest of the party-goers.

But I like that he can hang with the girls (and it’s not just because I think little boys should be rounded up and locked away from ages 4 thru 10). It’s simply fun to see him play in a group of kids who like horses more than Batman. Or Spiderman. Or Flash.

So…now Dave is home finishing the rest of the demo/clean-up while I'm bringing home the bacon.

I guess that means party time is over. As Stella would say, "Bye Bye!"

Baby Steps

Oh, basement of ours.

You sweet, red-headed step-child, you.

We’re making slow-but-steady progress (actually “progress” might be a strong word) on prepping for some sort of remodel down there.

And today DRS finally got his wish for another step forward in the form of a big, shiny blue dumpster in our driveway.

This 1-ton monster marks the beginning of the cleanup of, well, the basement tear-down process. It will hold all the basement treasures we’re ready to part with. Like the remaining walls, sheetrock, 2x4s…

...and probably some things the Seattle recycling police wouldn’t be too proud of us for throwing in there.

But I say shizer to the recycling police.

Just this once.

And that's only because I sure do love that DRS.

So... the kids and I will need to stay plenty busy this weekend while Dave does his manly, roof-over-our heads work.

Stella thinks maybe it's time to plant the tomatoes.

Or maybe just hang out and play.

Away from the big, blue dumpster.

Hip Hop.

I love me some Easter fun...colored eggs, kids all dressed up, chocolate bunnies next to vodka. Wait. What?

And So It Begins.

All of Henry's shoes.

All of Stella's shoes.

Sprung.

So. I’ve had some sort of stomach flu for the last few days and, as it turns out, that’s not nearly as fun as it sounds.

But yesterday afternoon, the stars aligned – the sun came out – my stomach felt better. So Stella and I spent some time outside. Her throwing rocks (and occasionally her beat-up old Elmo). Me soaking in the spring sun and exploring a new found appreciation for f-stops on my camera.

It’s like Alexander Pope was hanging out with us, talking his “hope springs eternal” mumbo jumbo.

It was a good afternoon is all I’m saying.

And, speaking of authors. Henry is becoming one. His books mostly have to do with Spiderman and Batman kicking the Joker’s ass.

But we’ll worry about that later. Right now, I’m just loving the 15 or 20 “novels” lying around the house by Henry James…Seward.