Passing On Dreams. Or At Least the Stuff With Which Dreams Are Made. You Know, Like Glitter.

Once upon a time, in a mystical land far far away high school I fancied myself a bit of an artist. I even went off to college with the intention of pursuing my creative tendencies. Somehow I was derailed and ended up a trial lawyer. Still not sure how that happened.

In any event, I've held on to every bit of crafty-type nonsense that's come into my life over the past umpteen years with the intention of one day making good use of them, and possibly even eventually becoming that artist I once thought I was. I've always managed to maintain at least a wee bit of creativity in my life by way of crochet, but have never found time for the oodles of paint, glitter, ribbon, paper, markers, pencils and what-not that I have filling an entire closet (and part of the garage).

Then last week it dawned on me. Maybe the kids would like some of this stuff?

And guess what?

They do.

My Cousin Was Recently Lamenting Her Lack of Dancing Skillz. I Thought This Might Make Her Feel Better.

Circa 1998. So, from the archives, admittedly. But I can assure you that while my love for dancing has increased, my abilities have not. My sincere apologies to anyone who has or will witness this in person. And my sincere gratitude to those who have refrained from taking similar pictures or video in the last thirteen years.

Twenty-Seven Weeks

I had intended on posting a belly picture every week beginning at twenty weeks this time around, but I should have known when my first picture didn't go up until twenty-two weeks that it was a lost cause. But, hey! At least I'm remembering to post at all. It's more than I can say for some things in my life right now. Seriously, we're down to one roll of toilet paper.

By The By, We've Been Doing This For Three Years Now! And By "We" I Mean "Me" and By "This" I Mean "Blogging"

It's a bit unreal that I've been boring you with my inane drivel for three full years now. To be fair, I do not promise interesting content, and I feel confident that I've delivered well within my anticipated parameters of zero expectation publishing. With that in mind, hey look! We took the boys to a Fire Festival at the History Center! It wasn't nearly as spectacular as it sounds!

There were three fire engines and two bored fire fighters. It was hot. The boys looked at the fire engines for about .3 minutes and wanted to move on. Casey didn't even leave the stroller. Fire Festival fail.

The gator statues outside the History Center were infinitely cooler than the fire trucks. Wrestling, taming, and eventually kissing ensued.

Jonathan has officially adopted Stephen as his "Little Buddy." It's quite possibly the cutest thing ever. And I feel confident it will result in at least one concussion.

The kids craft was well meaning, but lame. Firefighter badges that promptly fell apart and stabbed you in the arm. Also, the "special member snack table" had every kind of cookie except chocolate chip. How are you supposed to explain that to the kids?

All's well ends well, though, because the video gaming exhibit was extended through the weekend and devoid of other patrons. Score.

Beating the Heat.

I Had a Birthday. Also, Kelly Left Us. And Wesley Graduated. It's Been a Heckuva Week.

It's been a week of completed adventures. My thirty-first year is finished, Kelly's summer of torture is over, and my amazing husband earned his engineering degree.

My birthday was kind of a neither here nor there event, but it involved ice cream cookie cake, so that was good. Oh, and The Bread. Which, seriously, is called The Bread for (very) good reason. One of these years I won't be pregnant on my birthday and then I will celebrate in style. And by "in style" I mean I will get completely tanked, do something unbelievably embarrassing, and not remember any of it in the morning.

We are sad Kelly left, but I know she's glad to be home with her mom and sister again. It was a great experience for us, and I hope Kelly thinks so too. I was especially proud because she took her final Grammar exam the morning she left (yes, I am THAT mean), and she earned an A. Hooray for fantastic progress! I may have cried. The boys ask about her every. single. day. They even got mad at me for putting my crocheting in her room. We do hope she'll come back and let us torture her again next year.

Wesley graduated. He refuses to acknowledge that he graduated because he hasn't received anything "official" from the school yet. But, he graduated. I can assure you. Really and truly. And really and truly I am so proud I could burst. I even threw him a party. Wesley went back to school when I was about to pop with our oldest son, Casey. He maintained his full time business and paid for tuition as he went. He brought homework to each of my deliveries. The man was dedicated. And that's putting it mildly. So, now I'm married to an engineer. And, I think that's pretty hot.