You say it's your birthday...it's my birthday, too!

As of Sunday, I am four times older than Albert. She turned nine and I turned...well, uh, four times nine. (You do the math.)

We celebrated our joint birthday with a little cake and a lot of ice cream on Sunday night with some of the family. Thanks to our family for coming, even though we were a little crazy about the invite! (I am not going to elaborate about this one.) Not everybody gets to share their birthday with one of their kids, but I (and now my brother Dusty, too) am one of the lucky ones.

Albert is a bright spot in our family. When we don't call her Albert, her name is Sunshine. I learn so much from her. She has taught me a lot about how to be a good friend to everyone. She always seeks out those who are left out, new or on the outside. She is fun and has the gift of gab. She loves to be the leader and the organizer, luckily she has some willing followers around here most of the time. She tries hard to do what is right and just loves life. I can't believe she is NINE!!

Albert's birthday celebration started with an Hawaiian luau themed birthday party on Friday night. She invited 13 friends and every one of them came. She hasn't had a "friend party" in three years so we decided to go all out. I will be the first to admit that I was as excited as she was for the party. I had a lot of fun getting everything together. It was another one of my "trying new things" endeavors and I enjoyed the role of party planner more than I thought I would.I made lava lava wraps for each girl out of fabric and of course everyone got a lei. We decked out the backyard with colorful tablecloths and decorations and since it was a night time party we even lit tiki torches.

"How low can you go?" Limbo was a huge hit!

The girls had fun doing a little "hula" with a hoop and just "hangin" loose.

I hired a hula dancer and she was great, especially since she entertained for half the party. She taught the girls a few dances and let them try out the poi balls.

The highlight of the party was the volcano cake. I take no credit for this as Tim baked the cake, decorated it and added the dry ice. (Thank you Sandra Lee for the idea!) I also have to say that he did LOTS of other things on MY to do list in preparation for the party as well. It was a joint effort and I appreciate him so much. My husband is amazing!

Happy 9th Birthday, Albert!!! We love you!!!

He's no dummy

The other night we were in the middle of dinner when I had to run out the door to take Albert to soccer. Tim had just walked in from work (with fresh Krispy Kreme donuts) and was taking over dinner duty. A short time later, the following conversation was overheard in our kitchen.

Dad: Snausage, do you want a donut?
Snausage: Yeah, Dad, I want a donut.

After Snausage finishes the donut, the conversation continues like this...

Dad: Snausage, you didn't eat your dinner!! You shouldn't have gotten a donut!!!
Snausage: DAAAAD! You didn't ask me if I ate my dinner. You asked me if I wanted a donut!!

Proof that we are not raising dumb kids.

Bye, Bye Pink Walls!!!!!

I have blogged a little lately about my realization that I have to stop talking and thinking about doing things and just do them. So far, this new way of thinking has led me to train for a sprint triathlon (just over 7 weeks to go!), take a bow making class at the ribbon store so my baby can rip cute things out of her hair, spray paint a chest, shelf and magnet board and now my latest venture--getting rid of the pink wall color that I detest in my house.

Some of you are laughing right now because you know that I actually picked the "pink" wall color. No, this was not a case of moving in somewhere and just having to live with the color that was already on the walls. You see, I chose it myself. I was too prideful to ask for help, even though I have always known I was "color challenged." When we bought our house 2 1/2 years ago, we waited 8 days to move in so we could have someone come in and repaint the whole house and replace the carpet. I picked a bad, bad color that did not go with the carpet. My SIL, Christin, can attest that I cried when I walked in my house and saw the carpet and paint together for the first time. She tried to tell me it wasn't that bad but we both knew that it was. I have never hung anything up on my walls because of it. Since then, I have learned a lot about colors and undertones and about asking for help. My mother-in-law helped me with the colors when we replaced our countertops and painted our cabinets in the kitchen and when we bought living room furniture. (Thanks, Mom!) With my new found confidence and knowledge and lots of help for people who know what they are doing, I picked a color that works and I have been painting every spare minute, like the 2 1/2 hours of "free time" I have when Snausage is at school and Fats is asleep. I even stayed up until 5 am one night.

I have two tools that are awesome. My dear, sweet husband is not helping me with this project, which I am fine with, but he did go to Home Depot on the night I started and bought me a lovely Wagner Paintmate that saves me from having to reload the paint. Now that I know how to clean it out after my paint session, I love it. I also love my $6 paint edging tool. It really works. My only advice on using it is to brush the paint on instead of dipping the tool in a paint tray. If you get paint on the little wheels, it is useless.

The two most daunting parts of this task await me in the next week--the downstairs ceiling and the stairwell. I haven't figured out how I am going to reach the vault in my family room upstairs either, but the downstairs walls are done and I love how it is all turning out. I am even going to hang a picture or two tonight!!

Our way of remembering

I haven't given much thought to 9/11 this year. In year's past I have been glued to the TV, watching memorials and remembering what happened. I haven't had the TV on much lately. I've been busy and I have purposely been avoiding any news programs because I am really sick of all the politics we hear about every day. So, maybe that is why remembering 9/11 was not forefront in my mind this morning when I woke up. Then I pulled out of the garage to take the kids to school. The Boy Scouts had put a flag in our lawn and that sparked a conversation with my children about what this day means. We talked about four airplanes and bad people who don't like our country, three thousand people who died and fireman and police officers and heroes. They really understood more than I thought they would at this age.

Tonight at dinner they brought it up again and I decided that we needed to do something. Two years ago, on the fifth anniversary, we bought cookies and colored pictures and dropped them off at the fire station by our house. The firemen were on their way out to a call but we got to tell them thank you as they were running out the door. We decided that we needed to do it again. We colored pictures and grabbed some cookies from the pantry and headed to our neighborhood fire station. This time, four fireman answered the door. We explained that, as a family, we wanted to remember 9/11 by thanking them for all they do. They invited us in and we got to thank about twelve firemen and give them our pictures and cookies. Then the kids got to stand on the front of the firetrucks and take pictures. They got fireman's hats and stickers. We have one friend who is a firefighter and he happened to be there tonight. It was a really great experience.

On this day in 2001 I was 7 months pregnant with my second child. I thought a lot today about eight, seven and six year olds, children the same ages as my children, who will never remember their parents who died on 9/11. I thought a lot about how grateful I am to live in a land where I have freedom to raise my children and be happy, to worship the way I want to and to have a vote. Our country is not perfect but I am grateful to live in a place where citizens are willing to make sacrifices for the good of the whole. I am proud to be an American. I hope that coloring pictures and taking cookies to firemen will be a "small and simple" step to helping my children remember the sacrifices made by others, the freedoms we have, and how blessed we are to be Americans.

Hey, Fruit Leg Man!

When I was a kid, Kool-Aid was a staple in our house. We had a "Kool-Aid Man" pitcher and we made the stuff by adding two or more cups of sugar to a packet every single day. My mom bought the packets in bulk and we always had a supply on hand. We sold it on the sidewalk in red, white and blue Bi-Centennial cups. We never made any money because we usually drank it before the customers started coming. It was kind of an All-American thing and I loved it.

When I became a mom, my sister gave me my very own Kool-Aid Man pitcher to carry on the tradition. I think she saved up KoolAid points and ordered it. Anyway, the KoolAid man pitcher sat in the cupboard for a long time because of my own personal rule that calories should not be consumed in a beverage. My kids don't even like juice so we were a milk and water kind of family.

That all changed one Saturday night about six months ago, when Tim hit the local Safeway and decided that our kids needed to drink a bright red beverage on a daily basis!! My reaction is the mom reaction of "they are going to spill it all over" and "they will have eternal red mustaches." I couldn't get upset about the sugar thing because he bought sugar-free. I relented and searched for my Kool-Aid Man pitcher only to remember that several years ago Tim used it to mix paint, so that was out.

Our kids had no idea what Kool-Aid was. (I guess they don't play these commericals anymore with Kool-Aid man riding a skateboard while crashing through something.)



Snasauge got the name of his new beverage of choice mixed up and started calling it "fruit leg." Tropical punch, sugar-free "Fruit Leg" is now a staple in our home. I have mellowed about it a bit. We make it by the gallon and it doesn't last long. My children spill it every other day and I scrub red mustaches off every night. My kitchen has a fine layer of red dust everywhere. I scrubbed the blinds and the top of the fridge the other day and the rag turned red!! How lovely!

But, in the spirit of this blog, "Small and Simple Things" I am going to let the Kool-Aid tradition live on. I thought about trying to convince the family to switch the flavor to grape but then I decided that since "red" is an accent color in my house, purple stains on the floor and fine layer of purple dust just wouldn't go. Maybe the folks at Kool-Aid will heed my suggestion to make a color-less, sugar-free beverage, but probably not. I guess I better do a search on ebay for a Kool-Aid man pitcher. The tradition continues.