YUM

Cakes make me happy.

Licking the beaters when I'm done makes Megan happy.

Win/win situation as far as I'm concerned.

The only problem . . . I need more reasons to make cakes.

They are just too fun!

Here is a cake I just made for my preggo neighbor who loves chocolate . . .

It is chocolate cake covered in chocolate fondant. It is filled with chocolate chips and vanilla buttercream. All the decorations are marshmallow fondant.

Aren't these baby booties too cute?

(all edible . . . even the shoelaces)

And some of my other cakes . . .

Can you tell I have cake on my brain?

My Practice Child

I have a little confession to make.

Up until about a week ago, my three-year-old little girl still sucked on a binky to fall asleep. My other mom friends would make fun of me for allowing this to go on, talking about stupid stuff like binkies giving kids buck teeth, blah blah blah. (Are you joking? She is going to get a whole new set of teeth anyway. These teeth are just temporary little chewers until the real deal comes in. Let's not take them too seriously folks.) I decided Megan could keep her binky until she decided she didn't want it anymore, or her husband got sick of hearing sucking noises from her side of the bed, which ever came first. Then I realized it was probably time to get rid of the thing.

I talked to Megan about the Binky Fairy coming in the night and taking the binky away and giving it to a poor little binky-less baby who needed one. When the poor little binky-less baby angle didn't catch hold, I tried another approach. The Binkie Fairy sprinkles fairy dust! Still no. The Binky Fairy brings you presents!!!! (shameless) Guess what? Still no. Actually it was, "I'm just not ready." Ok then. Not ready. That's fine 'cause I don't think I'm ready either.

Then about a week ago I went out shopping for some spring clothes for the kids. As I was showing John some of Megan's new clothes, I told him Megan now wears a size 5. (Megan overheard this conversation.) Later that day, Megan says "Mommy, I'm ready for the Binky Fairy to come." What? You're ready? Where did that come from? Megan informed me that since she was five-years-old, and since five-year-olds don't suck on binkies anymore, the Binky Fairy could now come and take it away. Hmmm, interesting. You are 5?

Yep, I skipped 4 and now I'm 5.

So I did what any rational mother would do . . . I let her continue to believe she was actually 5.

Here's what happened next . . .

She got to sleep in Mommy and Daddy's bed that night since the first night was kinda rough. The Binky Fairy left a fun stamp set and a little tiny dog that isn't real. (Megan asked for a giant, scary chicken but the Binky Fairy is afraid of scary chickens.)

So now we're left with this little problem . . . Megan still thinks she is 5. I've told her she is a size 5 but is actually still 3 years old until her birthday but she argues with me and insists she is 5. She tells everyone that she is 5 now. With wide eyes she explains that she skipped 4! Wow, how exciting! Now what in the heck am I gonna do? I should have never gone along with her thinking she was 5, even if it made her ready to give up the binky. I didn't even care if she kept the stupid binky. What is wrong with me?

I think I've said it before . . . she is my practice child. I'll do much better with the next one, I promise.

Indigestion

Last night, we attempted to go out to dinner for the first time as a family with two kids instead of just one. We chose a little Mexican dive in our town for two reasons - it is cheap so we wouldn't be too disappointed if it didn't work out so well and two, they bring your food really, really fast.

Here is where Brendan started out.

And where he ended up.

If you had been sitting near us (good thing you weren't), here is what you would have heard . . .

Stop pushing the table please.

I didn't hear the magic word.

Megan, get your hair out of your food.

Who keeps moving the table?

Be careful, you are going to spill your drink.

Megan, you just got ketchup in your hair.

Can we please have some more napkins?

Watch it, Brendan almost grabbed your hot plate.

No Megan, you cannot squeeze the lemon all over the place.

Where are the napkins?

Watch out. Brendan keeps grabbing for that plate.

Who the heck keeps moving the table?

Megan, eat your food please.

Gross, Brendan is biting the edge of the table.

Why don't they ever give you enough napkins for Pete's sake?

Megan, more eating . . . less playing.

Stop it. You're going to spill my drink.

Look at that puddle of drool Brendan left on the table.

Seriously, we've used all the napkins?

Megan, for the last time, eat your food.

What did Brendan just put in his mouth?
Sure, dip your french fries in whatever you want.
*Through gritted teeth* Stop moving the table!!!!!

Yes, we are ready for the check now.

And as we were leaving, Megan came out with

"Mommy, I'm hungry."

Next time I'm hungry for food someone else cooks, I'm calling a sitter.

Billy Bob's

Let the weekend recap begin . . .
Cooters in the Lone Star State '10

I'll start with my favorite part - Billy Bob's Texas

The Worlds Largest Honkey Tonk

It has pretty much everything a cowboy would like - the smell of manure in the air, beer and whiskey, country music, lots and lots of cigarettes, and barbecued meat . . . all in one place.

Most classy establishments have neon signs.

And here is your rodeo lesson . . .

Sorry for the poor picture quality.

I don't take very good pictures while shrieking, "Oh my God. Oh my God. Oh my God."

I honestly thought the bull was going to kill the cowboy right there in front of us.

While wondering aloud what was making the bull quite so angry, I was informed by a local they tie a rope around his privates and pull really hard.
No wonder that bull was mad!

All that stress made us really thirsty.

We took funny pictures like this one . . .
(Photobombing - the fine art of spoiling a photo by jumping in on the action.

We laughed quite a bit over Sara's photo bomb. Everything seems funnier with these girls.

Thanks to a little technique called "cropping" this photo is suitable for posting.

Now, let's talk about about the local dress code.

In order to come to Billy Bob's Texas Honkey Tonk, the following fashion rules apply:

1. The bigger the belt buckle, the better.

2. Cowboy hats are not just for country music stars.

3. Tight Wranglers make Texas women swoon.

This is Walt, a real Texas cowboy.
I told him I was from Ohio and asked if I could get my picture taken with him.
If you go to the Liberty Bell, you get your picture standing next to it. Then you go home and show all your friends how cool the Liberty Bell was. Well friends, this is how cool a cowboy is . . . belt buckle and all.

Then, in an attempt to immerse myself in the local culture, I decided I must learn the Texas Two-Step but felt it would be inappropriate for a married woman to dance with someone like . . . Walt for example.

Luckily, this guy was available. This picture unfortunately cuts off the can of chew he had in his back pocket. Charming.

He smelled like he rolled around in an ashtray and he was missing several of his teeth, but I did learn the Texas Two-Step, and missed my computer nerd of a husband all the more.

We did do other things, like shop and eat and ride roller coasters. How about I catch you up on all that stuff in another post?

I'm no longer whooping it up in some nightclub in Texas.

I'm back to real life with night waking babies and more poopy diapers than a cowboy would know what to do with.

God Blessed Texas

My toenails are polished, my mustache/unibrow are gone thanks to some carefully placed Nair (shhh, don't tell anyone my little secret), and my bags are almost packed. If I get any more excited I'm going to jump out of my skin.

It is almost time for Girls' Weekend '10 -

Cooters in the Wild West

I've spent most of the last week holed up in my craft room, scrappin' my little heart out to finish up the pages from our last girls' weekend . . . times 4 . . . one for each of us.

Holy moly.

But, you know, what good is ridiculous fun if someone isn't going to document it for all posterity?

Tomorrow, I'll hop on a plane with my sister Katie to fly off to the Lonestar State to meet up with my cousins Sara and Mary. Please don't think for a second I won't be hoping this hunk-a-burnin' love is our pilot.

Hubba hubba.

Although I hear he has quit his day job. Yuck.

This weekend will include all of our favorite things . . .

good music, good food, shopping, a hotel with room service, dancing, sleeping through the night, a roller coaster ride . . .

(This is from our trip to the Ozarks. We are totally enjoying ourselves in case the looks on our faces lead you to believe otherwise.)

We might even check out a rodeo while in Texas.

Oh boy, I see a mechanical bull in my future!

I'll tell you all about it when I get back.

Until then, I leave you with a little ditty I can't stop singing.

'Cause God blessed Texas with His own hand Brought down angels from the promised land Gave 'em a place where they could dance If you wanna see heaven brother here's your chance I've been sent to spread the message God blessed Texas

Brendan - 6 Months

Dear Brendan,

Your "babyhood" is just whizzing by so quickly. I can't believe you are 6 months old already. You are growing way too fast. Way. too. fast. At your six month check-up, you weighed 26 pounds and were 28.5 inches long. (Well above the 95th percentile for height and weight) Twenty-six pounds! Some kids don't weigh that much when they are a year old. Needless to say, lugging you around is taking a toll on my back. Extra-strength Tylenol has become a good friend of mine lately. I'm trying to teach you how to walk because I'm seriously not sure how much longer I'm going to be able to carry you around. GG says you feel like a bag of cement. I agree . . . a really cute bag of cement.

You wear a size 18 months and just recently went from a size 4 to a 5 diaper. The doctor told me to stop feeding you so much. Instead of drinking 5-10 ounce bottles, he says you should have four-8 ounce bottles. You are a hungry little guy, that is for sure.

The doctor asked if you could roll over yet. Uh, yeah . . . like 2 months ago! I guess he didn't remember how advanced you are. (So, of course, I reminded him.) I also brought up that you are able to creep around on the floor and sit up all by yourself. You really are pretty amazing.

You are astonishingly strong and tough. Changing your diaper sometimes turns into wrestling match. Your grip is fierce. Your hands are so big Aunt Katie said if you were a puppy, she would tell me not to buy you (cause you are going to get too big.) ha, ha Everyone who holds you says they can't believe how strong you are. You actually wiggled yourself right out of GG's arms the other day and fell on the floor. She screamed and felt terrible. I heard you land and ran into the room, my heart beating a mile a minute. You just laughed on the floor and thought you were rough-housing with her. (I'll bet there are people out there reading this wondering how in the world an adult couldn't manage to keep hold of a 6 month old baby. You are no ordinary 6 month old baby!)

Here is a little video of you creeping on the floor. I took it a couple weeks ago and you are already so much faster. Now I put you down in the family room and in a few seconds you are in daddy's office.

I love you like crazy . . . you strong, fiesty little man!

Love,

Mommy