Tuesday, August 31, 2010

Making Potions or How to Keep 'Em Busy for an Hour

My kids have always enjoyed "making potions." I do not know how they got this idea originally. When he was younger, Tornado used to call it "doing science experiments." Ever since he could stand on a chair at the sink, he always wanted to pour leftover drinks and food into a bowl and mix it up. Once he could stand on his own at the sink, I'd often walk by and see some weird concoction sitting amongst my dirty dishes.

I've caught them (and when I say "them," I mostly mean Dash) using my natural dish soap, whole jars of spices, and any of my other expensive, organic food. That is exasperating. I try to fight his impulse by providing plenty of opportunities to make potions with restrictions. Several times this summer, they've carried stuff by the handfuls to their picnic table.

I give them each a bowl, several beakers and measuring cups, eye droppers, empty water bottles, and spoons. I give them bottles of vinegar and boxes of baking soda. I sometimes remember to pick up a bunch of Kool-Aid packets because they are cheap and fun for them to play with. I also let them take a food coloring squirtie (with several warnings to be careful not to dye their whole bodies and clothing). Then I just see what I have - expired spices, crayon shavings, and any other things sitting out on the counter. (They like it when Daddy leaves a few tablespoons of soda in the bottom of a bottle.)

Something else that is always fun for them to play with: I save the water from boiling broccoli, beets, or purple cauliflower, etc. It's a deep, lovely color - and free. They also might add items from outside - like pine needles, dirt, etc.

This will occupy them for an hour (which allows me to clean the kitchen or whatever). They make a big mess, but they've gotten pretty good about cleaning it all up themselves.

I love catching bits of their conversations when they are playing or working together. They have quite a time, pretending they are scientists or magicians or chefs or whatever. Clearly, this wouldn't really work as an unsupervised activity with preschoolers alone. My kids definitely don't try to ingest their potions, thank goodness, and if anything ever goes awry, Biggest Brother is an amazing Watch Dog.


Sharin' with ABC and 123!

abc button

Monday, August 30, 2010

Gratitude List #224-246: Buffalo River and Grandpa's Birthday

I haven't had much time to blog lately so let's start catching up...I've had lots to be thankful for, and I've gotta get going if my Gratitude List goal is really 1,000. I was just going to give up on that, but it feels, of all things, that would be the pathetic thing to give up.

During (Gratitude List #224) my sister Cary's visit at the end of July (I wrote a couple of posts about their visit on my other blog: my birthday and our dog's Scooby Doo birthday party.), we (my family of five, plus Mom and Dad, plus Cary and her kids) drove a little over an hour to the Buffalo River (#225). My brother and his family drove about the same distance to meet us (#226).

That's Tornado above. I'm so thankful for all the PURE JOY he brings into my life. He is just so GOOD and truly a lovely person to be around (#227).

Ryan and my Dad had a swimming race to the rock cliff. #228 - for fun times and no one having a heart attack.

The kids had a good time looking for tadpoles. Uncle Matt was a great help. I'm thankful Dash exhibits a gentle side with animals...some of his rare gentle moments. When we first started to "get to know our son" as he got older, we were, like, "He's going to be THAT kid, the one who wants to torture cats or pull bugs apart, piece by piece." Thankfully, that isn't the case (#229).


#230 - I'm thankful for baby giggles.

#231 - I'm thankful for their curly hair. Have I already counted that one? I don't care. I'm thankful for it every time I lay my eyes upon it.

#232 - Pierson was happy as can be to just sit in this tub most of the afternoon.

#233 - My niece Grace is an exact mix of my brother and her beautiful mother, and they get all of the credit for how amazing she is. However, I love that I can look at her and recognize a little bit of myself, too. I think (in a way) she's more like me than my own kids are. I realize that makes it sound like I'm saying I'm amazing. That's not what I meant, though. :)

#234 - I'm so happy that Dash has such a buddy in his cousin Owen.


In early August, we drove up to Matt's for Grandpa's birthday party.

Ryan took off on his bike that morning, and we picked him up in Leslie. I was getting a little worried about him because it started pouring outside. He was riding through the rain. I knew him well enough to realize he was NOT going to stop because of a little rain. I'm always thankful each time Ryan comes home safely from a ride (#235). Cycling might not be the most dangerous activity in the world, but there are risks. (One of his cycling buddies got hit by a car and had to have major surgery.)

I'm thankful, as always, that he works so hard at meeting his goals (#236). And also (as always) that he's so very cute (#237).


While we were at the gas station to pick up Ryan, Dash crawled into the dogs' crate. For the constant amusement my middle child brings us - #238.

#239 - Sissy and Clara have gotten to be such great friends.

#240 - They rarely left one another's side the whole day and had so much fun together.

I'm thankful that my grandfather gets to look out toward so many people who love him on his birthday (#241). I'm thankful that I still have my grandfather, age 90, around (#242). I'm grateful for the way he gives all of the kids a silver dollar for every birthday (#243). They don't really understand what it's worth/will be worth. It's a treasure in itself to them, just the way it is: big and round and shiny. They know that they like these coins Great Grandpa gives them.

#244 - So precious.

The whole family on my dad's side, minus Tracy and Cary and her family...Something funny Dash said on our way to the party: "How come there are two Patsy's? I forgot; what's the other Patsy's name?" Those are Dad's two sisters (Patsy and Judy), and they probably look similar to Dash. He does know Judy's name; he just couldn't think of it. He has been around Patsy more and knows her better, so I thought it was cute and interesting that he referred to them as the "two Patsy's."

I'm thankful that we choose to get together every year for Grandpa's birthday (#245). I'm happy for my Grandpa (#246). I hope this is what I have sitting around me in 50, 60 years.


holy experience

Thursday, August 26, 2010

Mommy's Piggy Tales: 10th Grade

1990-1991

My 10th grade year...let's begin with my 15th birthday, the summer before 10th grade. I was excited to gain the privileges of being older, but at the same time "I was sad to grow up," said my 14 year old self. "I'm almost 15, that's halfway to 30, that's halfway to 60, and that's old! How depressing!"

For my birthday I went to eat at The Olive Garden with my parents and sisters. When we got home I opened my presents (that's my sister Tracy above) - clothes, shoes, books, a pink hand mirror, a bubble necklace (Remember those?!), and a James Dean bag. (I was obsessed with James Dean.)

I also had an icecream cake. By highschool, I wouldn't eat anything with eggs so icecream cake was my birthday treat of choice.


The girl in the red shirt is Debbie. It was such a surprise when she was my sister for the second year in a row. We became great friends and DEVOTED pen pals. I still have a big box of letters from her. (I'd like to locate her and send them to her.) I think we must have written each other every other week for the next 3 years. You can also see here how much I loved Super Summer - my eyes are red from crying on our last day.

This was the second year I attended Super Summer on the campus of Southwest Baptist University. I would attend every summer for the next 4 years. Super Summer was a life-changing experience for me, one I will always look back upon fondly. We stayed in dorms with our youth group friends and were put into families (that's two of my sisters and my "mom" in the middle). We spent a week of bible studies, recreation, family time, skits, and nightly music concerts with a great speaker. Although I was never the type to share what was on my heart in front of everyone, it was invaluable to me, nonetheless. It was also what cemented my desire to find an amazing Christian man to marry (And I did!). It also caused my heart to become set on attending SBU one day. (And I did!)


Cary, Baby James, and Me...he was special in our hearts because when he was a baby, he and his mom (and later dad) came to live with us for awhile (I have no idea if it was 3 weeks or 3 months, but my sisters and I got to babysit him while his mom went to work. We loved that!)

We had a big Thanksgiving that year, which we didn't always have. Most of my Mom's family unexpectedly came from Texas to visit. (Kat, Bud, Sam, Baby James, Johnny, Trina, Leon, Bo, Grandma, Grandpa, and Wynton.) After we ate, we all took a walk on my parents' land. They'd purchased it maybe the year before, and it was only two properties over from our house. It's beautiful and rolling, and we'd always planned to build a house there (but never did because we moved a few years later).


I got my school jacket for Christmas that year. And also a big James Dean poster, among other things. I told you I was obsessed with James Dean. Even when I was in highschool, I'd always wake up sooo early on Christmas - like 4:30 a.m. because I was so excited. I was such a morning person when I was growing up. I was always the first one up to watch Saturday morning cartoons. And on Sunday mornings, I got to go to Casey's with my Dad to get a newspaper and a doughnut.


me, standing on the left

Another fun year of cheerleading. I think I was the most laid-back cheerleader ever. I was not the typical spunky, loud cheerleader doing jumps and cartwheels all over the place. In fact, I would get really embarrassed when we had to yell something by ourselves. There were a few cheers we did that required solos by everyone. Like this: Jenny, are you motivated; are you ready to get hot? I was supposed to say, "I'm hot, won't stop til I reach the top - gonna rock, rock, rock." (and either shake my hips or play air guitar while I said "rock, rock, rock." It might have looked something more like this: Me - "I'm hot..." (then I stop at the sheer horror of my voice projecting above all others, I giggle nervously, and shake my head that I can't do it, and the other girls fill in, "She's hot, won't stop til she reaches the top, gonna rock, rock, rock!").

my sister's signature in my sophomore yearbook

I enjoyed cheerleading for more than cheering at the actual games. I loved getting to stay after school with the girls and decorate the boys' and cheerleaders' lockers before game days. We also got to create really fun run-throughs (like the Imagine one above that we did for Homecoming).


This was the last year I got to cheer for my brother, who graduated this year. Obviously, this was a life-changing year for my entire family, as the next year he moved a few hours away for college.

I played softball this year. I had a lot of fun because all of my very best friends played. (Elizabeth is not in the picture.) I'm 3rd on the top row. We'd have the best time in the dugout, yelling cheers and chants, giggling, and being silly. I played center or right field, and I also got to pitch a few games.

I don't think my coach loved me, though. She thought I was prissy, and she was not prissy. She wasn't alone in this assessment; my 8th grade P.E. coach once said, while we were running laps (I was running in a way to ensure my poof stayed vertical), "I have never seen anyone more worried about her hair."


I probably also didn't make a great impression when I refused to slide in the mud at practice one day. For one, I hated sliding. It hurts! And my hands got all scraped up. Two, she and the older girls, I think, were doing it out of spite. The girls never got to use the good field; the boys did. They weren't using it while it rained one day so went out there. All of the sliding completely messed up the field, and the guys' coach was not happy about it.

Anyway, some of the girls were really getting covered in mud, from head to toe because it was fun. They tried to throw the girls who weren't muddy into the mud, but I would not let them get me.

I should have just felt free to do that, but getting dirty like that wasn't my thing at all. (So yeah, Coach was right, in a way, that I was prissy.) Plus, I thought it was unfair to tear up the guys' field because I probably secretly wanted them to have it. Of course, now that I think about it, it's totally messed up that the boys got it everyday. Just like we didn't cheer for the girls' basketball team. It's like it was 1960, not 1990.

Me and Elizabeth on the last day of 10th grade


Me and Angie, maybe at a school dance - and I know exactly what I would have been wearing - loved my UCLA sweatshirt (actually my brother's) with jean shorts, white socks, and black shoes that tied...Note to my kids: Those are called PAY PHONES.

I didn't turn 16 until the summer after 10th grade. Obviously, this was a big summer for me. I got my driver's license. AND I got my braces off! Yay! It felt really strange at first, like I had horse teeth, but then I loved it. I didn't have a crooked split between my teeth anymore; thanks, Mom and Dad!

Some of my friends threw me a 16th birthday party. They put up signs with balloons on the road to Elizabeth's house that read things like "Hey, Jenny!" and "Happy birthday, Jenny" and "Jenny - Honk Once." They had me sit on a chair (throne) and gave me a sash, crown, flowers, and a bunch of gag gifts. It was all totally corny - just like my friends and I were, so I loved it!

I had the greatest time taking Driver's Ed in a neighboring town with my friends, Missy and Elizabeth. It was a last minute arrangement, just a month or so before my birthday. We had a fun driver's ed teacher, Coach Middleton. We had classwork from 8-2 and driving with our groups from 2-5, each of us driving an hour.

Obviously, Missy, Elizabeth, and I were a group, and the remaining two would sit in the back while the other one drove in the front with Coach. (We even got to drive to Springfield and go out for pizza. And once we even had to change a tire.)

I have to say, I was the best driver out of us three. (But for the record, they were a grade below me and had plenty of time to practice before they got their licenses!) Elizabeth and Missy had a few close calls. One time Missy made a turn at a major intersection in Springfield. She didn't stop turning when she was properly in the lane - she just kept turning up onto the median toward traffic. Coach had to grab the wheel. Elizabeth and I were probably squealing in the back. Another time Elizabeth made a right turn and kept going onto the curb and into a church lawn. I think I laughed for at least 15 minutes. I have great memories of Driver's Ed.

No, that's not the car I received when I turned 16. I didn't get my own car until the end of my junior year. I was in heaven, though, because my Uncle Joe let me (squeals!) drive his convertible the day I got my license. He rode with me from Republic to Pizza Hut in Springfield after my brother's last Legion baseball game.

No, the car I drove when I was 16 looked like this. A 1988 Aerostar mini-van my parents had purchased new a couple of years before. I was grateful they let me drive it at all, but I'm not going to say I felt very cool driving a mini-van at the age of 16. It's probably subconsciously why I refuse to buy a mini-van, to this day. (On a positive note, a lot of people could fit in my car on a night out.) I didn't get to drive it all of the time. I didn't get to drive it to school. I still actually had to ride the bus A LOT when I was 16.

I remember my dad standing in my doorway the morning of the 22nd, just as I was waking up. He said, "Let's go get your license." I was kind of like, "What?!" I didn't know we were going to get it that day, and I felt like I hadn't practiced enough or something. He was confident I could do it. I was relieved I had a woman instructor. I got 85 on the written and 81 on driving. I'm pretty sure I failed or nearly failed parallel parking, and I didn't do very well on straight backing, either.


in my yearbook

The next night, I wanted to take the ol' Aerostar out for a spin. I drove to my friend Lori's house. I promised my parents I would be home by 8:30, but I didn't get home until 9:00 (after it was getting dark, and it was starting to rain). My mom and dad were not happy, and I got an earful.

Ryan and I were driving on that same Elsey rode recently, and he agreed with me. We would be FREAKING out if our 16 year old child was driving on those curvy roads, especially at night and in the rain. However, the reason I thought their scolding was unfair at the time: my brother never had curfews; I felt like they never watched him as closely as they watched my every move. It was an injustice I never got over. :)

My 16th birthday was officially made one of my best days ever, up to this point, by the birthday card given to me by Barry, James, and Marc, 3 cute guys from my brother's Legion Baseball team. I spent many, many days that summer and the summer before, watching my brother play baseball. It was not torture because I LOVED watching my brother plays sports, and like I mentioned: cute guys. My Mom was subtly trying to take a picture of me standing near Marc (who has the red shoes on - that's my cousin Joey in the front, and my aunt Carol to the side). I felt like I had to find a way to work "Marc" into my Piggy Tales since you mentioned it, Cary.

For those of you who were eagerly waiting on the continuation of Jenny's love life story, sorry to disappoint...to avoid a whole lengthy "I liked this boy," and "then there was this boy," I decided that's all I'll say about boys...for now. There's enough material packed into my journals, which I should probably throw away before my daughter learns to read. (That way she'll believe me when I tell her you're not supposed to like boys until you graduate. Or even much later.)

Plus, I haven't figured out how to reduce my Tales...it's already hard enough; there are too many more stories to tell.

I'll close with yet another amaaaazing teenage Jenny quote:


"I'm staying home Halloween night even though [lots of girls asked me to go out with them.] Mom said "no" because there would be too much trouble in town. She can be terribly hard-headed. Why can't I be treated as the woman that I am?!"

Monday, August 23, 2010

Thursday, August 19, 2010

Mommy's Piggy Tales: 9th Grade

1989-1990



I loved that I was starting highschool. And I ended up having a great freshman year. The friend drama of junior high was gone. I was making more friends and able to be a part of more things. I was old enough now that some of my friends were actually driving, and along with that came more freedom. "Cruising" was one of the main forms of entertainment in my little town. There was a loop through town that the cars would follow from the school to the Dairy Lane. You'd seriously just drive that circle over and over again for fun. The fun part was seeing who else was out that night. If you saw someone you wanted to talk to, you'd hope they would pull into the school or Dairy Lane. Then you'd roll down your windows to say "hi" or even get out and stand next to your cars and talk. When we discovered that the boys we liked were out on a particular night, we'd scream and primp and plot.

A significant part of my 9th grade year was cheering for the boys' basketball team. This included my brother, who was a junior. I loved it. It was really exciting! (That's my brother #23, front right, and that's me standing, farthest right.) We did our Homecoming dance routine to Batdance by Prince.
I was Homecoming Queen candidate from my class. After the ceremony was over, my youngest sister Tracy was crying in the school bathroom. She was in the 2nd grade, and she was really upset that I "lost" (even though I was only a freshman). It was so sweet. Sure, I would have wanted to win, but I was sort of relieved when I didn't because the winner always got a huge, long, open mouth kiss from her basketball player escort. (I still can't belieeeeve they always did this.) All I could think about was how much I didn't want my dad and grandfather, etc. to see a boy kissing me.
I continued on in band, and since I was in the 9th grade now, I moved on from pom pon girl to playing my flute in the marching band. (That's me, on the far left.) I loved going to parades and performing, etc., but it was a lot of hard work. We would have practice for at least 3 hours on Saturdays and often before school, too.

I loved going to a small school. (As quiet as I was, I think I would have vanished in a big school.) I was in every single school club and activity (except FFA!). As much as I loved playing volleyball in junior high, I didn't go on to play in highschool because I think I reached my peak or maybe just didn't want it badly enough. I couldn't serve overhand very accurately - and I was really bad at spiking, too. I don't think I could jump very high. Or maybe I didn't want to mess up my hair.

I was still a decent student - English was my favorite class, as usual. I entered Algebra I, which I didn't understand at all. (I mean, I was getting a B- I think every quarter...so not that bad, but my hopes at being valedictorian were dashed.) Side note: I tried to take Algebra in college two different times (just so I could say I mastered it, not because I had to). Even with multiple tutors, I was in danger of making a D and had to drop it.

I clearly don't have an aptitude for higher level math (Thank goodness for Consumer Math the next year! I never took Geometry or Trig...), and it didn't help matters that the new boy in school was in my Algebra class. It made it hard for me to focus; I had a big crush on him. After awhile, he started to like me, too. He started sending me secret admirer notes on index cards.

Thus, another period of teenage angst began. My parents were mad at me a lot, and my brother and I often fought about it. (This was a different boy than the one he had the encounter with outside the cafeteria.) My family didn't trust this boy because he was new/they didn't know him, his hair was longer than most of the boys, and he had...an earring! :) He also raced motorcross. I liked him for the very reasons they did not.

My dad found out I was cruising Crane with him (and others) one night, and he went ballistic. He was yelling at me, and I was yelling back that I didn't do anything wrong (because I didn't!). I locked myself in my room, and he was so mad at me, he punched a hole in my door with his fist. Before you form any judgment toward my father (he's really a pretty calm, quiet fella), there are things to consider.

I was his first daughter to be out in the "dating world," and really, I was only 14. Despite that I'd never done anything to make them not trust me - and overall I was a good girl, I had a very stubborn, haughty way about me when it came to authority. I'm sure it was infuriating to have a discussion of this sort with me back then. It was BEYOND my comprehension that I shouldn't be allowed to go out whenever and with whomever I chose. AND finally, I know my parents were scared to death that the same thing that happened to them in high school was going to happen to me. That's probably all the explanation that is necessary. I think their own experiences greatly shaped the way they looked at me and feared my decision making. Right or wrong, it was what it was, and we had a lot of head butting this particular year over this particular boy.

We hung out a lot here and there during that year, but he was technically only my "boyfriend" for a short time. (And we only really kissed once.) I was babysitting a couple of kids, and he came over with his friend. It was no big deal, and he didn't stay long. I walked him to his car, and he gave me a pretty short New Year's Eve kiss. Well, one of the kids told their parents, and their parents told my mom and dad's best friends, and they told my parents. So I got in trouble again.

And then another time, I was supposed to go riding around with him and some other friends after a dance. My brother happened to be there, caught wind of it, and forbade me to go. Actually, now that I think about it, maybe I was going to ride with him on his motorcycle. (Ha! It's all becoming clearer. No wonder he didn't want me to go.) I can't remember exactly how he kept me from going (because it doesn't sound like me to obey - he was probably physically going to stop me), but I was sobbing hysterically in the school bathroom. The teacher chaperone knew what was going on, and it was all just so embarrassing.

I mention this story because it was one of the only times I had conflict with my family. There was just no way for them to know entirely what was going on in my head. They didn't know how serious I was about the kind of life I wanted to lead and what I was adamant about abstaining from. I know it was less about them not trusting me and more about them not trusting him. This guy didn't have a great reputation; why should they trust him? I didn't have the respect for my parents' opinion and authority that I should have had. And I was definitely too emotional/silly about the guy - he would behave badly, and I would forgive him each time. It's definitely my prayer that my kids can rise above all of the boy/girl craziness when they get into high school.

In addition to my youth group, I was also in a new group called "Clean Kids for Christ." (See? What were they worried about?) We did activities regularly. I think this church camp retreat (above - me with two of my best friends then and to this day, Missy and Lori) was a CKFC activity.

Elizabeth, Kelly, Isaac, Missy, and Me



We went to Young Christians' Weekend at Silver Dollar City. This was another yearly event, and I always looked forward to it. I loved listening to the cool Christian speakers (like Joe White from Kanakuk), and I just knew they were talking about the things I wanted in my life.


I'm wearing my brother's baseball game in the picture. I LOVED wearing his jacket. Of course, girls always wore their boyfriend's jacket, but I never had a real boyfriend from my school, whose jacket I could wear. (I did, however, wear Michael's jean jacket in junior high and also Matthew's blue and white plain, collared jacket when I was "going" with him. ha!) Anyway, I always thought his jacket "made" my outfit, and I always wore it, even after he graduated.

skating with Clean Kids for Christ

One of my favorite things to wear during this time - a sweatshirt with a turtleneck underneath. That's what I'm wearing up above. I was really into turtlenecks. And of course, tight-rolled jeans.

On a related note, I had written down what I'd gotten for Christmas this year. Here are some of the things: magazines from Tracy, a diary from Cary, perfume from Matt, and from Mom and Dad - 4 sweaters with matching turtlenecks, a peach cardigan (I was really into peach at the time!), an alarm clock, a bunch of books, a China mask, the NKOTB Hangin' Tough VHS tape (yeah!), and a pair of tiny ruby earrings. I also wrote that Mom and Dad didn't buy gifts for each other that year so they could buy more for us.

some of us at a baseball game - this was 9th or 10th grade...Leslie (to my left) was my older best friend that year; we spent a lot of time together my freshman year - and Elizabeth (on my right) is one of my loves of my life, to this day - she and I became friends the year before



I spent most of my time at ballgames. I VERY RARELY missed a game. These were the social events, and they are why I was NOT good at doing my homework.


Notice how I still have my mouth closed in that picture, as with every other picture on this page.

Oh, wait. I let my guard down for a second. Here is one of those pictures I was talking about - one of the few that exist of my braces. This was at my house, when we threw a birthday party for Missy. I'm wearing my puff-painted cheerleading t-shirt.

My friends and I were spending the night together at Lori's. Well, I had a crush on her brother at this point. He wasn't there, but I posed for pictures in his room, wearing his school jacket. I had also written him a letter prior to this, but then I felt embarrassed about it, so I found it in his drawer and destroyed it.

A very big part of my life in highschool was my ROOM. I loved my room. I had the biggest room in the house all to myself. I was so particular about it. My brother always thought it was funny to sneak into my room and slightly rearrange items because I could always find the differences. It was full of my "treasures" and keepsakes, all of the "things" that meant the most to me. Plus, one of the telephones was in the hallway right outside my room, so I could pull the long cord into my room and shut the door.

Here's another shot of my room. I had a lot of stuffed animals, dolls, figurines, music boxes, shells, peace signs, and pictures of boys. The big one up above is Donnie Wahlberg. I loved the New Kids on the Block. So much. I fulfilled my lifelong dream of seeing them in concert 2 years ago. And I'm not ashamed to say it! :) My girlfriends and I would get together to watch the videos over and over again, squealing the whole time during the very inappropriate hip thrusts, etc.

This was my best friend Isaac and me on our last day of 9th grade.

As you can see, my hair was still pretty high. I had written in my diary a story about wanting to leave the Broiler Festival early one night. (That was our big town festival every year in August.) I listed the reasons why I wanted to leave - "Boy A" wasn't there, "Boy B" wasn't paying attention to me, one of my friends was bugging me, and "anyway, my hair was flat." :)

Sorry about my lengthy posts! Linkin' up to Mommy's Piggy Tales.

Sunday, August 15, 2010

Muffin Tin Monday: I Saw Red


Did anyone just start singing Warrant?

Muffin Tin Monday at Her Cup Overfloweth

Our Muffin Tin theme this week: RED.

We've been doing a casual color unit this summer to help Sissy solidify her colors knowledge. She knows her colors for the most part, but she still gets some of them mixed up occasionally.

Red-skinned apples, R is for Red shaped peanut butter and strawberry jelly bread, strawberries, rice pasta with marinara sauce, Jelto (Dash's name for our gelatin-free gel cups we get at Whole Foods) with a cherry on top, and watermelon.

They also drank apple juice from red boxes.

The only problem with an all-red meal - it's a little red-messy.

We're so happy that Winnie, Rush, and Cary could join us for Muffin Tin Monday!

And we all wore red! Of course, Cary's red outfit is cute, and I only own red t-shirts. She said that was where I made the mistake; she would have planned the meal around the outfit.

Little Rush WAS wearing red, too, originally...

but there were some issues during the meal.

And at least I had fancy red shoes to wear.

We planned on doing a red activity with our little visitors, but we ran out of time. I set these red craft supplies out for my 3 a few days later and told them to CREATE.

This is what they came up with.

A few of our "red" books we read.

And I leave you with this - just because looking at it makes me happy.

How about another one?

Linkin' up with Muffin Tin Mom and Gang.