Thick as Thieves, and Just as Dishonest

Sunday morning, Harriet woke up, took off her diaper and declared:

No more diapers.

Since she also had a fever of 103', I figured she was delirious and did not pay much attention to her declaration, but then she looked at me, eyes as big as her face, and screamed:

I HAVE TO PEE!

Well, you better go to the potty.

RIGHT!

And off she went. 

So, unbeknownst to me, I found myself pee-deep in potty training, and I was not prepared. But, this seems to be how Harriet rolls: she does not need consensus from others, she operates on her own schedule and she loves spur-of-the-moment decisions. Heaven help me! But Harriet was ready, and as her minion, I needed to get ready too.

On Monday morning, after we dropped Leif off at preschool, I shot Harriet up with some Tylenol and headed to the mall with my snotty-nosed, plague-ridden baby girl. (Yes, it is inconsiderate people like me you can blame for spreading all these nasty viruses this winter . . . sorry) Thankfully, with a little Tylenol, Harriet quickly came back around to her usual, excitable self, and she was able to pick out her potty stickers, her potty treats, her potty toy and some brand new, very adorable panties. Is there anything cuter than a tiny baby bum in little, pink bunny panties? I think not.

When we got home, we made her potty chart, complete with Moana stickers, and she showed off her new potty toy to her brothers when they arrived home from school. Leif was very interested in the toy she chose - an Elena barbie doll with a large, plush, talking version of her sidekick Skylar, the Jaquin. (Thank you 50% off sale at the Disney Store!)

She has some really cool gadgets, Harriet! Look, there's a rope and a sword and a shooty-thing on her hand.

I pried the toy from Leif's hands, cleaned up his drool (I kid!) and placed it up on the shelf in her closet. Then, I explained to Harriet that she could have the toy once her potty chart is filled with stickers. She was good with that until she discovered that one sticker was not enough to fill up the chart . . . ugh.

With all our goodies on hand and the potty reward procedure explained and implemented, I felt more positive about this whole potty training business. Yep, I was ready . . . unfortunately, though, I failed to take into consideration three things:

1. My children, like most children, are lying, thieving schemers  . . . er, I mean . . . okay, I said it and I I refuse to take it back . . . tee hee!

2. Leif and Harriet are best buddies. These two are close, super close, and they would do anything for one another. Harriet even gathers all of Leif's things together for him just before he goes to school:

Leif, here's your backpack, your water bottle and your toy.

While Leif is Harriet's biggest cheerleader.

Harriet, yes, you can jump from the coffee table to the couch. 1 . . . 2 . . . 3 . . . GO!

I call it cheerleading, but I suppose you could call it reckless, older sibling taunting to get their younger sibling in trouble, or even worse, hurt . . . potato, potahto . . . tee hee!

Anyhoo . . .

and finally, 

3. Leif is obsessed with gadgets, even if they are wielded by pretty Disney princesses.

So, Sunday went without a hitch. Harriet had no accidents, and she woke up dry the next morning. On Monday, Harriet peed in the potty first thing in the morning and remained dry the entire time we were out shopping. When we got home, and after I had made up her potty chart, Harriet sat on the potty but could not go. Then, ten minutes later, she peed her pants. Harriet was so upset:

Yuck! Get it off! Ewwwwww!

I calmed her down and while I was cleaning her up, I heard Leif mumble:

Oh! I have to pee too.

And he took off towards the bathroom, but before he got there, he turned around and headed back to the living room. I figured it was a false alarm and got back to cleaning up the kitchen floor. Moments later, I heard Leif squeal:

Harriet peed in the potty, mom!

Yes, I did, mom. I peed!

I went into the living room and both Leif and Harriet were dancing around, proudly parading the pee-filled potty.

Hmmmmm . . .

Judging from the amount of pee I had just cleaned up and the amount of pee in the potty, I knew there was no way Harriet was responsible for this potty success, but, I ignored the apparent lie and the ease of which both of my offspring were willing participants in this lie, and celebrated with them:

Hooray, Harriet! Let's get a sticker and a treat.

This time Harriet insisted that she place the sticker on the chart, and she swiftly stuck it on the last square of the chart.

Toy, mom?

Nice try, kid, but nope.

These kids are smart.

About an hour later, I smelled poop.

Harriet, did you poop your pants?

Nope.

Then Leif, who was in the washroom, hollered:

Harriet pooped in the potty, mom.

She did?

Yes, I did, mom. Come see!

While, I peeked into the potty and indeed saw a giant turd, Harriet danced around me squealing:

I pooped! I pooped in the potty.

Being the experienced mother of five that I am, I knew something was up, and so I told Harriet I  needed to clean her bum. Just as I suspected, her bum was clean. Then I headed to the washroom to find Leif, frantically trying to clean his own bum.

After I saw Harriet poop, I had to poop too.

Yeah, nice try, kid, but I am on to the both of you.

Oh. My. Land. Seriously, my anxiety over raising the two of these kiddos through their teenage years, while Mr. Level-Headed and I are two worn-out, old, completely out-of-the-loop parents, counting down the days until our house is child-free, has shot up exponentially. They are going to get away with everything . . . Eeeeeek!

Well, at least they will be potty-trained menaces to society . . . tee hee!

Wish us luck!

The Worst Vacation Ever

People always comment on how much energy I have, and I will be quite honest with you, it is definitely a  blessing, particularly when raising five children, but it can also be one royal pain in the butt. Like this morning, I woke up at 4:30am, and rather than go back to sleep like I really wanted to, my body kicked into hyper-drive and begged me to get going:

Ooooh! Let's go workout.

There's dishes we could do.

Oh, and don't forget the laundry.

And, ooooh, we could walk the dog. Ahhhh! Think of the crisp, early morning air on our face. It would be lovely.

NOOOO! It is time to sleep.

Pretty please, can we get up?

And after an hour of trying desperately to fall back to sleep, I gave up and started my day. I ran downstairs (yes, I literally ran . . . soooo much energy . . . it is ridiculous), grabbed the laundry basket filled with clothes that needed to be folded and headed back upstairs to watch a french movie I had borrowed from school. I was feeling rather pleased with myself at this point for getting an early start on everything I had to do today. I snuck into Elliot's room to grab his laptop, since my laptop cannot read DVD's and the Blue Ray no longer opens up because it is covered in the sticky remnants of Miss Harriet's snacks. When I finally got Elliot's laptop started, I froze and quickly forgot about the laundry I was folding because there in front of me was Elliot's screensaver, an adorable picture of him and Avery hugging with a breathtaking view of the river I used to wake up to every morning when we lived on the Kingston Peninsula in the background. It made me long to hold those two little boys again and to sit on our hill, staring out over the river. Oh, how I wish I could go back in time!

Anyhoo . . .

I decided to steal this picture and email it to my Iphone, since it was one I did not recognize or remember taking, and when I opened up the picture file on Elliot's computer, not only did I find more pictures of my Big Three posing in front of the river, but I also found pictures from a vacation we took on PEI in August 2008, the summer we moved to the Kingston Peninsula. I was giddy! I felt like a pirate finding his long, lost buried treasure.

So, the funny thing about this vacation is that I remember it being the worst vacation we have ever taken. Seriously! We had just moved out of our house on Downsview Drive on the westside, and we were currently homeless. The home we had bought on the Kingston Peninsula had undergone major renovations that summer and was, surprise!, not finished. We had been staying with my in-laws, which worked out great, but being one week away from going back to work as a teacher at Touchstone Community School, I was stressed out. Mr. Level-Headed, a born problem-solver, came up with the perfect solution:

Let's go on vacation!

Are you out of your mind?

It is exactly what we need. It will be great!

For the record, I did not think this was going to be great. For one thing, we could not afford this vacation . . . . ummm . . . major renovations? And another thing, a last minute trip to the very popular Prince Edward Island would mean lousy accommodations, and that is exactly what we got. All I remember is that the hotel room was on the ground-floor, had not been updated in about gazillion years, and I also lost a pair of earrings and a small, book light in that room. I am pretty sure it was pilfered by the cleaning staff, who were, clearly, too busy rifling through my stuff to actually clean the room. GRRRRRR! I was not impressed. Then to make matters worse, it rained the entire week we were there.  PEI is beautiful, and it is the most perfect, summer vacation spot, but there is not much to do there when it is cold and wet. Ugh. Oh, and to top off our fabulous vacation, our contractor kept calling about issues he was having with the paint I picked out for the interior of the house:

Hi, Krista! So, yeah, your house currently looks like a Dole banana.

WHAT?!

Don't worry, I will repaint it after I exchange this paint for a softer yellow

One day later:

I picked up the new paint, and the salesman said it is the most popular colour this year. You will love it!

\

Another day later:

Ummm . . . so yeah, your house is now orange.

WHAT?!

You may like it.

NO! Go back and find me a pale yellow. 

 I remember Mr. Level-Headed telling me we could not afford to change the colour again, and I was like:

Well, then I am not moving in. I just bought a bright red couch and there is no way it can sit in a room with orange walls. So, you can have orange walls or your wife. You decide.

I can be a real treat sometimes

tee hee!

And yes, I did win that one.

Needless, to say, I do not have any fond memories of that trip. All I remember is being a nervous, miserable wreck the entire week. I worried about the upcoming school year that I was not currently preparing for. I worried about the state of my brand new house, and I worried I may never feel the warmth of the sun again. BRRRRRRR! And I think I was pretty much ready to contact a divorce lawyer the minute we returned to the mainland because my dear Mr. Level-Headed was being far too level-headed about this entire trip and was constantly looking on the bright side. Seriously. He is lucky to be alive today.

But here's the thing, after scrolling through these long, lost pictures from our worst vacation ever, I see we did laugh, we played lots of games, and we visited some really fun vacation spots. And even though I was freezing the entire time, there were warm, cuddly kittens to snuggle at Santa's Village, and there was yummy raspberry cordial to drink at Avonlea Village. According to the pictures, it was a great vacation. Yes, we were in a crumby, smelly room (it was a designated smoking room . . . blech!). Yes, the weather was terrible, but the dark, dank room forced us to get out and enjoy the outdoors anyway. Sitting here, ten years away from that moment, with Zoe now living in Toronto on her own and us living half a country away from the breathtakingly beautiful Prince Edward Island, I could kick my thirty-two year old self. How could I allow stress and fear to prevent me from simply soaking up the time I had to share with some of the most important people in my life in one of my most favourite places in the entire world? I will never get that week back no matter how much I wish for it, and I do wish for it, as miserable as that week was. I would give anything to hear the Big Three laugh in their little voices again, or to witness all their antics again. I allowed stress and fear to shape my memories and to overshadow any laughs we may have had or stories I could have treasured and shared for years to come. Thankfully, I now work very hard to treasure each moment I have with my family no matter how difficult it may be or how miserable I may feel. I am painfully aware that moments do not last and that as much as you don't want it to happen, life changes. Kids grow up, they move away, and sometimes, you move away. That's life, and as hard as change can be, the fact that life does change, makes it worth treasuring.

Drum roll please . . . and now the pictures! They are amazing.

And look! We must have had some sunshine.

 

So, perhaps being hyper and waking up at 4:30am is a blessing. Gosh, I love those little faces!

Just Me and My Boy

I feel pretty sheepish about posting this blog post after declaring Leif to be my favourite child the other day because, in all honesty, I do not have a favourite; he just happens to be the easiest to get along with right  now, and so . . .  well . . . okay . . . so yeah, he is my favourite . . . at the moment . . . tee hee! But . . . yeah . . . um . . . well . . . okay, just because he is my favourite does not mean he gets special treatment, or does it? Oh my goodness, I should just end this right here.

Anyhoo . . .

At 3am, I heard Harriet cry out for me. I ran into her room, assured her I was there, and as I curled up beside her, I realized she was feverish. Ugh. I took her out to the living room because by this point, after giving her some Tylenol, she was wide awake. I put Paw Patrol on for her, and then I lightly snoozed on the couch beside her, as she nudged me awake whenever an episode would finish. When my alarm went off to wake up the boys, I discovered that Elliot was sick too. Double ugh. I think, at this point, it is safe to say that our house simply needs to be quarantined for public safety. Just say'n.

Leif, however, woke up chipper as usual, and since Elliot was home and I could leave Harriet with him, I decided to take him to school even though I am pretty sure I could have nailed an audition for the Walking Dead at that moment. As I was putting Leif's jacket on, he seemed concerned that Harriet was nowhere to be seen. I assured him that Harriet was going to be okay and that she was just staying home because she did not feel well.

Really? You mean, it is just going to be me and you this morning.

Yep.

Yay!

And then he skipped out to the van, singing:

Just me and my mom. Just me and my mom. Just me and my mom.

Is there any doubt as to why he is my favourite . . . er, for the moment. tee hee!

During the entire drive to preschool, Leif continued to comment on how special this morning was because it was "just me and my mom". And it got me thinking: since Harriet was born, Leif and I have had very little one-on-one time together. In fact, ever since Leif was born, he has been lumped into a collective, which is apparent from the pet names I chose for him: Thing 4 or the wee-est Webster. Once Harriet came along, they became a package deal. Now, I have not gone so far as to call them Larriet or Heif  . . . yet,  but I do refer to them as the dynamic duo, the dastardly duo (depending on how I feel about them at a particular moment), the two under two crew, the babies and my minions. It is never just Leif, and since I found out he is going to school in the fall, I have been thinking more about Leif as an individual. He is NOT simply one of the babies; he is Leif Christian Webster. Oh, and since I tend to use my blog as a public confessional for all of my motherly transgressions, you should know that I, literally, forgot he was Leif Christian Webster the other day, while I filled out his kindergarten registration form. I kid you not. In the space to enter his full name, I wrote:

Leif Derrick Kurt Webster

Then, I paused - something did not seem right. That was Avery's middle name. I wouldn't have used the same middle name for Leif, or would I? Well, much to my dismay, I had to retrieve Leif's birth certificate to find out his middle name. Seriously. Ugh. 

Anyhoo . . .

I am not very good at doing mommy dates with my kids, and so this morning, I decided to change that. Leif was so thrilled with our 11 minute drive to school that I figured he would really lose his mind with an actual hour or two. Just before I left to pick Leif back up, I put Harriet down for a nap and told Elliot to listen for her. Then, as Leif was preparing to leave preschool, I whispered in his ear:

Do you want to go on a date with just mom?

YES!

I am going to take you to my favourite burger place.

McDonald's?

Oh, how I wish I could insert emojis into the blog because the rolling eye emoji was created for this very moment.

Nope, but I will show you.

The St. James Burger and Chip, Co., 

aka the home of my favourite burger of all time: the Perogy cheeseburger.

It is heavenly! And yes, I finish it off every single time.

 

So, over some super delicious burgers and a couple of pops, Leif told me all about the sword game he played with his friends Bryer and Oliver at preschool that morning. When asked how you play that game, he replied:

Well, you kill other humans to get their buried treasure. 

Right. Why did I ask?

Then he showed me his magic skills by making the bouncy ball, which he had earned from Teacher Suzan for cleaning up ten times without complaining, disappear. We made faces, we laughed at each other trying to eat our ginormous burgers, and in between Orange Crush burps (his name for them), he tried to see his orange tongue without a mirror. But even more special, in between all those moments of silliness we shared, there were a lot of quiet moments, moments where we just sat side by side, enjoying the sun streaming through the windows, watching the planes fly in for a landing at the airport, nearby, listening to Ed Sheeran on the radio, and in those moments, it truly was just "me and my boy".

And because the gods were clearly smiling upon us this afternoon, after we checked out some books at the library just before we returned home, the librarian gave Leif a handful of balloons for him and Harriet to share. 

Day made.

The Golden Boy

I am crushing pretty hard on this one lately. 

Mind you, he has had next to no competition lately. The Big Three (yes, I am currently obsessed with This is Us too) want nothing to do with their "loser" mom. In fact, I texted Baby Girl tonight to see if she wanted to Facetime, and I got:

I'm at a fashion show. Bye.

She is living large in Toronto and is way too cool for her mama.

And the boys . . . well, I have one word for you:

Teenagers.

And Harriet? 

My dear, sweet Harriet is smack-dab in the middle of the Terrible Two's and rotates between two emotions every thirty seconds:

Indignation

Elation

repeat

Quite frankly, it is terrifying and exhausting.

So, yeah, Leif is the golden child right now. He is obsessed with his Playmobil action figures, and can play with them for hours on end, which makes me giddy because up until last year, if he was occupied for any amount of time longer than five minutes, it meant he was into something he should not be into, like: Vaseline, Zincofax, dish detergent, etc. The list was long and super messy.

 And he is so funny right now without even trying to be funny. If we drive anywhere longer than five minutes, he asks if we are still on planet earth. It always cracks me up, and I want nothing more than to reply:

I am, but I have no clue where you are at the moment.

He is not getting the whole concept of a city, within a province, within a country, within a continent, and so on. He is convinced his grandparents live on a completely different planet.

And I love getting sneak peeks into how he perceives the world.  The other day, while we were driving his friend to our house, his friend asked:

Is this your house?

Yep. We live here now. We used to live in a blue house, but our neighbours moved in and so we needed to find a new place.

hahahahahaha!

Not quite, but it blows my mind that he even remembers the colour of our old house. He was two when we lived there!

And I love that he loves words almost as much as I do. As he was decorating one of  his planes with stickers this afternoon, he says:

My friends are going to be so impressed with this plane, mom.

It is really nice, Leif.

I would actually say it is handsome and cool . . .

and then he paused . . .

just like me!

Then, along with his million-dollar smile, he let out the biggest giggle.

Yep, I am pretty smitten.

Perhaps I can send Harriet to kindergarten next year and keep this one home with me . . . just kidding.

Or am I?

Super Mom

Okay, I am feeling really uneasy tonight after publishing my last blog post and reading various comments I have received. Let's all get this straight: I am NOT super mom. And, no, I don't think anyone actually thinks that, but the compliment leaves me feeling like a fraud. I am a good mom, but I think for the most part we are all good moms: we are all doing our best within our particular circumstances, but the idea of a supermom, a mom who can do it all, is damaging, and we as women need to support one another. We need to celebrate our strengths but also recognize our weaknesses, and guess what, it is okay to be weak. It is okay to fail miserably at times, as long we never, ever give up.

I am really lucky right now. I am able to be a stay-at-home mom and focus all of my attention on raising and enjoying my kids. I have been a working mom and a student mom before, and they are tough gigs, but moms do it, and we make it work. In fact, we make it look easy, when it is anything but.

So, yeah, the blog. I struggle with the blog because sometimes it feels like I am showing off. "Oh, look at me! Look at what I can do, or what we did!". I wish I could say I do it all for a pay cheque but that is a big, fat lie. I blog because I love to write. Writing is my gift and when I do it, I feel whole. Sure, I could keep all of this in a journal or make my blog private, but I also feel like my other gift is connecting to people. I love people, and there is nothing I love more than talking. For me, the blog is my way of starting a conversation and connecting with my friends and family, whom I miss terribly. It is also a really great way to help me remember this crazy, but beautiful life Mr. Level-Headed and I are creating. I love reading old blog posts! I am amazed at how much I actually forget - time is cruel. Like I forgot when Mr. Level-Headed was working up North, I used to count the Fridays until he would come home: 7 more Fridays. How did I ever survive that? Or, that Avery was obsessed with stuffed animals, particularly his giant pink unicorn he named Horny . . . hahahahahaha! Seriously. How can I forget this stuff? But I do.

So, yeah, at this particular point in my life, I can spend my afternoons going to museums, or indoor playgrounds, or to the zoo, and I cherish those moments. Those moments make me feel like a good mom. Those moments are moments I did not get with my Big Three because I was too busy going to school. Those moments are the moments I live for and want to remember, but trust me, there are a lot of moments I don't want to remember. Like tonight (See! I now feel the need to air out my dirty laundry to offset any images of Mary Poppins I may have conjured up for you today), Avery had a basketball game at 5:30pm and then a soccer game at 8:30pm. Mr. Level-Headed is away in Ottawa and since I was sick yesterday, I desperately needed to get our house back in order and still manage to pick up some groceries. By some miracle, Elliot's shift at the Bulk Barn was canceled, which meant I did not have to take the babies to the late night soccer game . . .  hallelujah!

But to make all of this work, the babies had a whole whack of TV today, while I ran around, straightening up. Yes, I use the television as a babysitter. It is bad. I know, but she is the best babysitter and the cheapest one I can find. Then, instead of taking the hour and a half while Harriet napped to do something with Leif, I chose to write my blog. Again, not mother of the year worthy!

By 4:45pm, I managed to get everyone in the car and we left for Avery's game. We were late. Well, not late for the game, but he missed the warm-up, and then I drove away. Yep, I did not stay and watch his game. Instead, I had to take the babies to Superstore to pick up some groceries. Then, because the Superstore here in Winnipeg is the size of two football fields and whenever I shop there I curse it and swear I will never go there again, I was late to pick Avery up. Again, not super mom. 

We rushed home in order to drop the babies off and unpack the groceries. Elliot was home at this time. He took care of the groceries while I fried up some hash browns to go with the chicken I had cooked earlier in the day. Okay, so I do get bonus points for actually cooking a chicken earlier in the day, BUT there were no veggies on the plate. There were some apple slices, but only two. 

25 minutes later, Avery and I rush out the door. Poor Avery is eating supper in a plastic bowl in the car. We did manage to arrive on time for his soccer warm-up, though. Woo hoo!

By the time his game was done, and we had run through the McDonald's drive-thru on our way home . . . ugh! I lose all mom points there, it was 11pm, and guess what, I was greeted at the door by my two babies, who were still wearing their clothes from earlier that day and who were so sticky and dirty they looked like two street urchins from a Dickens novel . . . I kid you not! Even Harriet noticed it when I put her to bed: 

"My hair has a spider web in it, mom". 

"No, that is just food, Harriet. Good night, dear".

No, I did not bath them. No, I did not brush their teeth. No, I did not read them a story. No, we did not say our prayers. I simply gave them some cereal because, according to Leif, Elliot would not feed them . . . ugh!, put their jammies on and tucked them into bed.

It was 11:45pm before I was able to sneak out of the room. EEEEEK!

And let's not even talk about the state of my house, or the fact, that instead of dealing with the disaster, I decided I needed to blog and put everyone's mind at ease: NO! I am not super mom. I am NOT doing anything special over here. I am just like everyone else - trying to make the best of a pretty tough situation, and making one giant mess while I do it . . . ugh!

But hey, I feel so much better getting all that off my chest . . . tee hee!

I am such a fool.

And for no other reason than I wish I could go back and smooch on those adorable baby cheeks:

The real reason I blog: I never want to forget.

7 More Months

So, I found out the other day that Leif does, in fact, have to start school this fall. The school district we live in determines school entry by the calendar year, and if I choose to keep him home next year (kindergarten is still optional in Manitoba), he will be placed in grade one the following year when he attends. This was a huge shock to me because coming from New Brunswick, where parents can choose the entry age for children born between September and December, I have been operating under the presumption that Leif had another year at home. Yes, I have options, and I am currently waiting to see if he can get into a local Montessori kindergarten, which is only half-day compared to the full-day one offered at our local school, but it is probably not likely since the waiting list has a spot for parents to put their children in utero on. Seriously. 

Oh, and because this is MY blog and I want to rant for a moment, please forgive me, BUT . . . every other kindergarten class in Manitoba is half-day EXCEPT for the four schools located by our house because we have been designated "inner-city" and a 9-4pm school day helps working families. I really wish I could insert the sobbing face emoji here. And despite how it may sound, no, I do not live in the getto . . . teehee!

And NO, I am not going to homeschool. Been there; done that; not an option.

Anyhoo . . .

After suffering from one ginormous anxiety attack, my dear Mr. Level-Headed helped talk me down, and I have come to realize a couple of things:

a. I am not worried about Leif academically. He is one smart cookie with the brightest and most fascinating imagination I have ever encountered.

b. I am not worried about him socially. Leif makes friends where ever he goes, and his peers like him.

c. I really liked our local school: the principal and teachers were awesome (and the principal even told me Leif could go part-time until he is ready for a full-day . . . yay! The perks you get when you follow the principal into her office after the meeting with tears in your eyes, pleading: "what are my options." . . .  hahahahaha! I am so over-the-top)

and finally:

d. The only real issue is that I am going to miss him. Being an "old" mom, raising a second batch of Littles, I am fully aware that these Littles grow up into Bigs way too quickly, and my heart is just not ready for it. I guess I kind of thought Leif and Harriet were always going to be my two-under-two-crew.   

Anyhoo . . . 

in typical Krista fashion, I have turned my mood around and I am focusing on the positive. Leif doesn't start school for another seven months, and in that time, we are going to have a lot of fun!

I love nothing more than getting out and exploring with my babies, and thankfully, Winnipeg is the perfect city to do just that. The other day, Harriet and I picked Leif up from preschool and then headed to the Manitoba Museum. We have been there before, and it is definitely one of our fave things to do. There is a hands-on science center for kids, a planetarium, and of course, the museum, complete with a life-sized "pirate-ship" (or at least that's what Leif thinks it is, and we just go with that). 

I am incredibly blessed to have been given a second opportunity to raise babies, and even though, it is not easy and I definitely have a lot to learn . . . still . . . and I manage to make a gazillion mistakes a day . . . ugh!, I think the one thing I do right is that I make the most of it, and I try to enjoy every minute we have together.

Cue the onslaught of Iphone pics from our day . . .

They love the race track in the science center! When they get older, they can build their own race cars, but for now, they are just as happy to race the pre-made ones.

Trying to lift himself up. He actually did quite well and almost reached the top on his own.

Harriet needed her mama's help.

This station blew their mind, but then, of course, they started kicking the ball around . . . hahahaha! Soccer on the brain.

Lego break!

Road rage! So. Much. Attitude.

I love this photo! We were exploring one of the exhibits in the museum when we found a drawer that said: "Open me". So, of course, we opened it.We were quite shocked to discover it was a drawer filled with poop . . . hahahaha! And that great, big pile is a bison poop . . . eeek!

Leif and I were trying to move onto the next exhibit, but Harriet heard music and was overcome with the desire to dance . . . hahaha! She is such a ham.

The kids were pretty bummed that the "pirate ship" was closed for renovations, but we discovered a bat cave, complete with flashlights to help you explore. The babies nearly died after they entered one den and shone their lights onto a sleeping (stuffed) black bear  . . . eeek! They were terrified!

Oh my goodness, I love these two! They fill my days with joy and laughter . . . Well, ask me how I feel about them after we go grocery shopping and then onto Avery's late night soccer game . . . eeeeek! Mr. Level-Headed needs to get his butt home.

Have a great weekend!