Hello, August

It's barely noon on the first day of the month, and I have already medicated myself three times against a monster headache lurking under the surface, and threatened to kill my son if I see his face again before 3:00.

It's going to be a long month.

sweet strawberry goodness

This morning we got up and went to pick berries before the heat set in. Just in time...right now the AC is humming and it's at least 83 out there.

The berries were on the small side this year, and early as well. All the spring rain. Didn't stop us from filling up the car (and our bellies) with sweet strawberry goodness. Mmmmmmm...

Happy Friday!

Igloo!

The best part of 8" of freshly fallen snow? Igloos, of course!

Emma came out in these snow pants. Sized 6x. She was puzzled as to why they were so tight in the crotch. Not to mention, about 12 inches too short!!

The finished igloo, big enough for two!

believe

last years Christmas card photo

Last night I learned that Emma has learned the truth about Santa.

Part of me is relieved, a whole "phew! That's over. Thank goodness" sort of feeling. But a bigger part me of is just sad. One more little piece of childhood innocence snatched away. This is the same part that hopes she doesn't share her newfound information with her brother, who still believes in the man in red, even though my life would be easier.

And do you know how she found out? From a friend at school, whose mother told her because she didn't want her daughter to be ridiculed for believing in Santa in middle school. I'm all for letting them believe in the magic of Christmas as long as possible. It's not easy being a kid in 2009; I want mine to be kids as long as they can.

I found out about Santa well before I was 12, but I found out the old fashioned way-I snuck out and spied my parents. And of course I had to share my shock with my only brother, who was robbed of many good Santa years as a result. He still brings it up every year.

So the moral of the story is to let your kids be kids for as long as they can be, and don't steal anyone elses' Christmas magic. I still believe.

spray park and crayfishing

Tuesday was a lovely, unseasonably-cool-for-July day, which found us at the totally cute and totally free Plymouth recreational park. It's been years and years since we last went (don't know why...just never thought about it, really). We met up with our friend's, the Kemp family. Rachel & Emma have been friends since kindergarden. They have 4 girls, all different ages, and are always up for adventure and laughs.

Crayfishing was first on the agenda after lunch. My kids have talked about nothing else for days.

Ev & Elizabeth trying to catch one in the shadows

The water was no more than 5 inches deep, and considerably less in some spots. Emma found this 4 inch fish, and caught him. Meredith thought it would be fun to hold him.

Mama duck & 6 babies, unbothered by the fishing and splashing going on right next to them

They fished for at least 2 hours and filled up that whole container with crayfish! Emma also managed to catch at least 50 huge mosquito bites. July in Michigan! And even though it was on the cool side, they played in the splash park (a very good thing because they were all muddy and mucky and gross)

Meredith running on the outer edges, just barely getting wet

Rachel, Evan, & Emma through the hoops

Emma enjoying the spray. I love how Mer has her little hand in the spray on the side.

And lastly, Mr. Man up top this totem thingy. They are all over the park. I just thought he looked cool.

Em & I are impatiently waiting for Evan to come back (he went out with a friend who's parents don't understand the concept of on time) so that we can go enjoy the pool on this sunny 80 degree day. I have a feeling we are going to be turing on the air by tomorrow :(

She & I went to the farmer's market to score some pastries and tomatoes. I have been dying for homegrown toms, and even though I have a million plants, I have nothing close to a tomato. I paid $4.78 a pound. Gah! If I start them earlier next year, maybe I can sell them and be a gazillionaire.

Happy Thursday all!

FLARG!

Guess where we went this weekend? Does this give you a hint?

Yes, we went to the mecca of home decor, IKEA.

I love IKEA. I could spend all

 day there.

Wait, we pretty much did.

It had been awhile since we browsed the showroom (and Bart had a secret plan in mind), so Saturday we trekked to Canton. I could tell it was going to be packed by the parking lot. Wowza there are a lot of cars in Southeast Michigan.

And guess what? We saw Carmen Harlan, of WDIV channel 4 fame. Shopping. Cool.

The plan was to get Emma the loft bed we promised her for her birthday (in September). To make a long story short, she doesn't take care of anything in her room, much to our great annoyance. We rearranged her closet to make it more user friendly. There are still clothes on the floor. So, she was told she gets the bed when she proves to us that she actually cares about her belongings. Still not great, but she has made an improvement.

We came across the home office stuff before the bedroom stuff, and Evan asked if he could have a desk. Sounds reasonable. He is better at taking care of his room, and he will need a place (without TV) to do homework. Or whatever. So we said yeah, let's pick one out.

At this point Emma turned green with Envy and declined to speak the rest of the shopping trip.We came to the part where the bedrooms were, and she wouldn't offer an opinion on any of them. We gave her like 10 chances to pull herself together but she chose to be miserable. We stopped for meatballs & beverages and she sat there miserably not eating or speaking. I cornered her and tried to talk her out of her funk, but she wasn't budging. She said "Dad won't let me have a loft bed so there is no point in even looking. I never get what I want". Even told point blank we came to buy one, she still was being a stubborn ox.

About an hour later (still in IKEA) she whispered to me that she knew she was wrong but couldn't admit it to her dad.

Dang, 10 year old girls are a pain in the butt.

I had my share of moments just like this as a young girl, but I was forced to go with my dad on the weekends, and there was a lot of animosity between my parents. I needed to rebel. What does she have to rebel against?

We also helped my Mom de-Christmas her house, so that was pretty much our entire weekend. I have packed up all of our things until next year. Just the tree is left, and I'm not about to take apart that sucker by myself. No way.

Tomorrow!