The boys had a Mardi Gras event at the school yesterday and we headed down after rush hour to take part. For those of you who don’t know, “the school” is an online charter school that allows us to continue the feel of homeschooling, but with tons of extra support for Super A’s dyslexia. I can’t speak highly enough about them. It’s an amazing school opportunity.
We ended up making masks with feathers, foam stickers, crayons, glue, and crafty-sequiny-things (not the real name for them, obviously). The kids had a blast and Sweet Pea has been wearing hers almost constantly since then. She hasn’t had any major injuries, but she did run face first into her plastic car. A hug, a kiss, an ice pack, and a piece of Dove Special Dark Chocolate and she was fine again. Such resilience. Continue reading
Category Archives: My Family
We Made Pretzels. With Only a Little Bit of Arguing.

Photo by Brandi Jordan
I am in awe of those moms who make life with children look so easy, so carefree, so Donna Reed-ish. Because if there’s one thing I can tell you, it’s that that is so not my reality. We argue, we fight, we yell use our outside voices inside, and more often than not, someone ends up in time-out whenever we start a project. But today we did pretty good. We made pretzels and no one got sent to time-out. I consider that a win.
Since we’re on our “must eat non-processed food only” kick, we have been seriously lacking in snack food. So much so, that Ultra-G was snacking on ice cubes. Seriously. It’s bad. Continue reading
Paint In A Bag? Really, Mom?


Paint in a Bag - oh yeah, baby.
So, last week I was searching for activities for Sweet Pea to do while the boys worked on their schoolwork. She often ends up coloring, tracing letters, playing games working on learning apps on the iPad, and playing with Play Doh. She’s bored out of her skull happy and content, but I really wanted to give her some other options.
You’re A Great Mom.
“You’re a great mom,” Sweet Pea said to me last night at dinner.
I stared at her, homemade pizza midway to my mouth, and raised my eyebrows. Less than 30 minutes before I’d been yelling at redirecting her to stop pinching her brothers and, really, great was the last thing I was feeling.
