The All Saints' Day Scavenger Hunt

Looking for a great activity for a group of children to celebrate All Saints' Day?

A few years ago I created a little scavenger hunt that we've done at our annual party and I'd like to share it with you!  It takes a little bit of preparation the first year but once you have your items you can store them for the next year.  

This scavenger hunt involves searching for the saints' lost items which we hide before the party all around the church gym and hallway.  Before the party we hide the items in groups (meaning that say, all of the St. George swords are in one spot) and when a child finds it they put only one of the item in their paper bag.  Once they've found all the items they are finished!  They can then search for a prize in our St. Anthony Lost and Found Box.  This hunt is great for the older kids, especially ages 6-10.  The littler ones enjoy it as well but usually need to be paired with an adult or older sibling.

Click HERE to find the scavenger hunt handout.  

You'll have to adjust the fonts and sizes since Scribd didn't import any of my fanciness.

 Below I've listed what we've used for those items.  It's fun to watch the kids try to figure out what each item is supposed to be and discuss amongst themselves.  Feel free to be creative and use what you have!  There are so many more items and saints to substitute if one or more of these can't be found.  Oh, and please don't hesitate to let me know if you have a question!

St. Peter's key - Clip art key printed on white card stock*

St. George's sword - Plastic cocktail swords (found near the toothpicks at the grocery store)

St. Benedict's goblet - Dollar Store package of tiny champagne glasses (in the wedding section!)

St. Raphael's fish - Clip art fish printed on white paper (You could also use Swedish Fish.)

St. Patrick's shamrock - Clip art shamrock printed on green card stock.  (I'm sure you could find something cheap and simple around St. Patrick's Day but who's thinking about this then??)

St. John Bosco's clown nose - Mini red ball ornaments found as a package at the dollar store (I removed the metal hanger)

St. Elizabeth's crown jewels - Craft gems

St. David's harp - Another dollar store item!  They had a bag of tiny harps with their Christmas ornaments!

St. Philomena's anchor - Clip art anchor printed out on card stock

St. Genevieve's candle - White birthday candles

St. Therese's roses - Small craft roses I had on hand (you can find packs of them at any craft store and probably the dollar store)

St. Andrew's fishing hook - Metal Christmas ornament hangers

St. Gabriel's horn - Just like the harps, they had a package of horns with the Christmas items.  (They're actually saxophones but hey, it's a horn, right?)

St. Joseph's carpenter wood - Popsicle sticks

St. James' seashell - Once again, the dollar store comes through!  Look near all the vases and frames for small packages of shells.

St. Cecelia's violin - Clip art violin printed on brown card stock

St. Agnes' lamb's wool - Cotton balls

St. Isidore's straw - Small pieces of straw

St. Lucy's eyes - Dollar store!  Candy eyeballs with the Halloween candy

St. Nick's coins - Pennies (This year I found some plastic coins at the dollar store in the party section)

St. Teresa's book - Clip art book printed on card stock

St. Anthony's bell - Small jingle bells found in a package in the dollar store Christmas section

St. Francis' animals - Animal crackers

St. Stephen's rocks - Small stones from the yard

(*For St. Peter's key, St. Raphael's fish, St. Patrick's shamrock, St. Philomena's anchor, St. Cecelia's violin, and St. Teresa's book I simply pasted the clip art about twenty times onto a blank document.  Then I printed it out on colored paper and cut them out.) 

At the end of the shindig remember to collect the bags and sort the items out again.  Then simply save them in baggies and your next year self will thank you big time. 

I'm hoping to post a few of our other favorite All Saints' games in the next few days.  Stay tuned!  

                          

Pin It

Seven Quick Takes

1.

The other day friends of ours came over for dinner.  They have twin boys that were born two weeks before Luke (they also have four older children because they're awesome).  Witness the adorableness.

Oh yes we did cage them in the living room.

For once in his life Luke was the tall one in the group.  Don't get used to it, kid.

Caught looking devious

2.
This same friend also birthed those babies naturally (though induced) and PAINLESSLY.  Did you hear that?  Up until she was pushing them out there was no pain.  How incredibly awesome is that?  And one of the twins was born in the caul (for you non birth lingo people that means still in the amniotic sac). I totally want her to write out the birth story somewhere because it is so cool and would give a whole lot of women a more comprehensive view of labor and birth.  Women need to hear these stories, right?

3.

Since coming back from our big trip, I've been going through what I like to call downsizing.  My husband likes to call it whytheheckareyouthrowingoutallmystuffcrazywoman.  I'm getting rid of everything that does not have a real use or that just bugs me.  Last week we packed up three garbage bags of my husband's and my clothes to donate.  A lot of it was in good shape but we just don't need it.  To my husband's credit he allowed me to get rid of several wretched items that he had been clinging to during other closet raids.  A lot of it was others' hand me downs.  Felt SO GOOD.  This week I added a bag and a half of linens and household stuff.  The closets and drawers are organized.  The loft and garage are organized.  The scary basement cellar of doom is almost empty.  Furniture that didn't fit anywhere but we *might* need someday was given away.  I should totally hire myself out as one of those professional organizer people.  I would rock at it.

  

4.

The reason this occurred immediately upon coming home from two weeks of traveling is because we spent two weeks living out of one bag each without the responsibility of taking care of STUFF.  It was so freeing.  When we got home I was sort of deflated with all the time and energy that have to go into taking care of STUFF.  Some of that is good and edifying, of course, but it is so good to be able let go of things and not be attached to all of that.  So much more time and motivation and ENERGY for the much more important things.

5.

Like this.  Showing off how Luke can talk.  Evidence:

Smartest baby ever.

6.

I bought and have been wearing skinny jeans.  And I like them.  I know.  I'm not sure that a painless natural birth of twins is that much more unheard of.  Now to find some cute boots that didn't belong to my ninety six year old grandmother.  (For real.  You saw that hand me downs thing up there, right?  I wasn't kidding.)

7.

Random Chicken Pic

(because I can't think of anything else to write even though I always think of a thousand other quick takes during the week on the days that aren't Friday)

They're getting big and we need to sell a whole bunch of them preferably before winter.  I should do a little chicken update soon, shouldn't I?

Go visit Jen.  She's nice.  And hysterical.  And fun.

Pin It

{pretty, happy, funny, real} - Autumn Glory and JPII

{pretty}

Can  you believe this is our front yard?  How blessed are we?

Completely unedited (besides the copyright :)  Look at that color!!  And I wish you could smell it!

I think our house looks prettiest in autumn.  Pretty much everything looks prettiest in autumn, am I right??

You can't even see our driveway for all the leaves.  It's going to be eighty (80!!) degrees today.  It is absolutely glorious outside.

{happy}

A feast day gift.  The boys love listening to audio books like this.  I was excited when Holy Heroes released the story of Blessed John Paul II.  It's really well done.  It focuses mainly on JPII's youth rather than the papacy (though I would love to hear one on the papacy as well!).  I'm still floored every time I hear everything that amazing man went through.  And it's so inspiring for children to hear, especially our little namesake.

{funny}

I wrote about our feast day plans here.  This is how our "Polish Pizza" came out.  When I realized that the dough on the right was not obediently rounding out, I turned it into Poland.  There's even a sausage appropriately placed to represent Wadowice where Blessed John Paul II was born :)

{real}

Oh, I do fully realize what all these leaves mean...

Not only that there is a lot of raking in our future (and I don't get a hugely pregnant pass this year) but that very very soon all of these trees will be bare and the dreaded four letter word will be falling.  

But for now we enjoy.

Linking up with the ladies...

Pin It

Celebrating the Feast of Blessed John Paul II - Polish Papal Creme Cake

Happy feast of Blessed John Paul II!

We got to celebrate Mass this morning which is always the perfect way to celebrate a feast, right?  And afterwards John Paul did his lessons with nary a whine which means I'll be writing the Vatican later to let them know we have the necessary miracle for the canonization.  

Last year was the first time we got to celebrate the feast day of our beloved JPII and we did so with a Polish feast and Polish Papal Cream Cake.  This year we're just going to do the awesome and super easy cake.  Why?  Because most Polish food is icky.  I apologize to all of Poland.  But really.  You make some awesome rockin' saints but I am just not down with your food.  Instead, tonight we'll let our little JPII namesake pick out dinner and thankfully, he'll probably pick pizza.  I'm sure Blessed John Paul II liked pizza.  Maybe we'll put some Polish sausage on it or something - Kabam.  Polish Pizza.

But this cake?  Delicioso.  Or as they say in Polish, delicioski.

This cake was renamed kremowka papieska after it was learned that it was a favorite of the then Karol Wojtyla when he lived in Wadowice.  Rumor has it, he would come in to the local bakery several times a week for this cake.  You know why?  Because whether it was Theology or desserts, the man knew what was up. 

I changed it a tad.  I used phyllo sheets rather than puff pastry (because that's what I had on hand), but really they're sort of the same thing.  Because of that I brushed on a coating of melted butter in between eight sheets of phyllo to get that light layered crispiness going on.  I did that twice and used those to sandwich the pastry creme.

Here, why don't I just write out the recipe, eh?

JPII's Polish Papal Creme Cake

(Serves 9.  Or one.  You decide.)

Crust:

16 sheets phyllo dough (You can use puff pastry which is much simpler.  Just make according to directions and able to fit your pan)

5 tbsp. melted butter (approx.)

1-2 tbsp. powdered sugar

Preheat your oven to 350.  Roll out a layer of your phyllo dough in the size of your 13x9 pan and brush with the melted butter.  Lightly place the next sheet on top and repeat the butter.  

Repeat with six more sheets and a last brushing of butter so that you have eight sheets layered.  Do this again with a different eight sheets for the top layer of your cake.  Bake both for 10-15 minutes until lightly golden.

Place the bottom layer into a 13x9 baking pan and begin your filling!

Filling:

2 cups milk

3/4 cups sugar

1 tsp. vanilla

Pinch of salt

5 tbsp. cornstarch

6 egg yolks

(If this intimidates you, you could also use a vanilla pudding mix, though I would use less milk than called for or possibly add some cornstarch so that it's not too runny for the cake.)

Prepare an ice bath for your pan in the sink or a larger pot that can hold the smaller one.  Whisk together all ingredients in a pan and bring to simmer on stove.  

Turn down the heat but continue to boil for one minute whisking constantly.  Immediately put pan into the ice bath.  Cool for a minute or so then pour warm creme over the bottom layer in the 13x9 pan.  Top with the other phyllo layer and dust with powdered sugar.  Refrigerate until set, about several hours.

Cut into squares and enjoy the sweet Polish goodness.

And then go skiing or mountain climbing or hiking like the Great JPII to work it all off.

Mmmm...you like it, no?

Yes, Papa, we love it.  And I just cannot wait to get to heaven and hug you so tight.  

Please pray for us left here on earth!

(Today's read aloud)

Pin It

Ripping Your Hair Out in Love - A Reflection on Teaching Your Own Children

I predicted well, I think.  I pretty much knew from the beginning that one of my challenges with homeschooling would be not getting frustrated when one of my children doesn't get it when it just seems so obvious to me.  As it's played out, it's even more challenging when they DO get it but yet do it so slowly and without focus or just pretend that it's "too hard."  I have quite literally pulled at my hair, banged my head against a wall, gotten angry, and made weird frustrated animalesque noises.  (I'm mature like that.)  

Far from being proud of that, I admit it as a weakness that I need to overcome and quickly.  Just this morning I was sitting and nursing the babe and pondering whether or not the children wouldn't REALLY be better off if they were taught by a professional.  Certainly a "real" teacher wouldn't lose their patience and say things they shouldn't!  Mrs. Jones in the classroom never feels like she is going to lose it and she never gets angry with her students, right?  (Perhaps any professional teachers that may be reading this are laughing right now.  But the truth is we homeschool mothers in our numerous moments of self-doubt romanticize how patient and kind you are with your students.  Certainly not like us.)   But then I realized something as I was rocking my sweet little one  and this quote sprang to my mind:

"The opposite of love is not hate, it's indifference." Elie Wiesel

Here's why that was a grace for me in that moment of this morning.  Often in the standard classroom (at least the standard classroom I've experienced and the one I have in my head.  I'm sure there are many wonderful exceptions but please don't intrude on my personal revelation here, m'kay?) a teacher can be chill about whether or not a child gets it not because they have achieved great levels of virtue or holiness or angelic levels of patience but because they are indifferent.  

Right?

I mean, why get upset if little Johnny is struggling with his multiplication facts when in the long run, it doesn't really affect your life all that much if he gets it or not?  Give him a "C" and move him along.  No harm, no foul.  It doesn't matter all that much if he's trying his best or if he learns how to really apply himself.  There are fifteen (or twenty or thirty) other students and at least a few of them are making the teacher proud and excelling.  Maybe not Johnny, but well, that's the way things go.  But at least he's dealt with patiently, right?

The homeschooling mother doesn't work that way.  The homeschooling mother agonizes over whether her curriculum is right, whether her children are learning, whether they are getting enough outside time, whether she is pushing them too hard, whether they need more "socialization," whether they are respectful and kind, whether they're clothes fit, whether she's fed them the right foods to help them concentrate, whether they will hate her in the long run, and yes, whether Johnny REALLY gets it or not.  She loses her mind so that they can grow theirs.

There is certainly a need for peace in the home schooled house and it certainly should be sought but often it is an elusive thing.  And it is not always because the mother is lacking but rather because  the mother is loving.  When we love we give.  When we love we aren't satisfied with mediocrity (ht JPII).  When we love we want more than anything to make the RIGHT decision.  When we love we are constantly searching for what is best.  When we love we will not just usher a child along even though they don't really get it.  And when we love we sometimes get angry.  

Now FAR from saying that it's okay to lose our tempers and develop bare patches on our skulls (all in the name of love, right? ;), I'd rather say that I need to get better at handling my frustration and anger.  Definitely.  But at the same time I will not buy into the idea that simply because my children frustrate me and I lose my temper that therefore I shouldn't be doing this.  I can admit that this homeschooling gig is sometimes fantastically difficult but it doesn't mean that therefore my children would necessarily be better off with the professionals.  Because here, I can love them.  And sometimes that means wanting to bang your head against a wall.  But as the bruises on my forehead prove, it is anything but indifference. 

***I feel like I need to make the disclaimer here so that people don't get mad at me or something that I KNOW some classrooms are terrifically wonderful and that many teachers do love their students and are awesome.  I also know that many teachers stink and DO lose it on their students.  This is just my own personal revelation that I needed to make on a difficult and normal morning with math.  The end.***

Pin It

Ten Months

Wow.  You are all just awesome.  I really didn't mean to get all introspective and emotional yesterday and really didn't plan on posting that.  I opened the page just meaning to write a simple little post to remind others to remember those who have lost babies.  And then all that just sort of spilled out.  I am humbled and slightly embarrassed but so moved by everyone's love.  To be honest I feel kind of silly posting such raw emotion when it's been over five years since Joseph Mary died and there are so many others that also grieve...but I suppose that was part of my point.  So I'm going to try not to apologize and just say thank you.  I know my pain is nothing unique but at the same time it is still valid and real.  And so I'm grateful that people understand and get it and we can hopefully spread that to others who are hurting.  Thank you.

(Deep breath)

Okaaaay...  CUTE BABY PHOTO SHOOT TIME!!

His vest is the Milo Vest I knit for him using Madeline Tosh yarn in Violin.  If I remember correctly, my brother said it makes him look like a peasant child.  But he's a happy peasant so we're all good.

Pin It

When Your Baby Dies

I'd love for you to meet Joseph Mary.  I would love for you to know the face, the voice, the personality, the hair color of this child.  I would love for you to know the jokes, the soft skin, the smile, and maybe even the tears and whines of this little one.  I would love more than anything to be able to introduce you to my child.   

But I can't.  At least not yet.

Joseph Mary died within me.  I was ten weeks along and the blood began.  The world stood still for several hours as my heart twisted and wrenched in agony.  The rest of my body followed a few hours later.  I saw my baby's picture on the screen.  The technician didn't need to say a word.  I could see right away that there was no heartbeat in my precious baby's tiny chest and we went home.  A few hours later, labor began.  It was like a mini birth - contractions ebbing and flowing and escalating in intensity until finally I passed my tiny baby's body onto a square of toilet paper in my bathroom.  A few minutes later the placenta was out.  And I was empty.

We grieved.  We mourned.  I cried a lot.  For weeks.  We buried Joseph Mary's body in our parish cemetery and our beautiful priest presided at our baby's funeral Mass and accompanied us to the gravesite.

The ultrasound showed that Joseph Mary died at about eight weeks gestation but the miscarriage didn't begin until a few weeks later (which is completely normal).  In pregnancy land, weeks of gestation are counted at the beginning of a woman's menstrual cycle and not when the baby was actually conceived. It is assumed (usually erroneously) that the baby is conceived two weeks to the day after.  This means that if a woman tells you she is 18 weeks pregnant, her baby is actually only 16 weeks old.  This means that Joseph Mary was only six weeks old when that little heart beat for the last time.  

I saw my baby.  Because I knew what to look for, I saw the characteristic curve of the embryo.  I could identify my baby's tiny head and spine and the beginning of eyes and arms.  I could not tell if we had a son or a daughter and that is one of the biggest aches of my heart.  We had a feeling that he was a boy but I so very much look forward to meeting our child in heaven and knowing if we were right.  

I am forever grateful for the grace of being able to hold my baby's body and give this little one a decent burial.  I remember begging God for that gift after learning that our baby was dead.  "Please, Lord, please just let me see him."  So many parents do not.  Often there is so much blood or the baby comes out before a mother even realizes she is miscarrying and the small body is washed away without notice.  And many many women grieve that chance to see and hold their babies just that one time.  I wish more women knew that even while miscarrying, it is NOT weird or crazy to keep all the remains of the miscarriage to bury, even if you can't identify the body.  That doing so can be an incredibly healing process for the mother and father and a loving last gift to your child.  I wish every woman knew that EVERY Catholic diocese in the United States has reserved space in a Catholic cemetery for unborn and stillborn children to be used FREE OF CHARGE and by anyone.  In Catholic Theology, burying the dead is one of the seven corporal works of mercy.  It is the reason that most Catholic hospitals have a communal burial in a cemetery of all the tiny babies that are miscarried rather than just allowing their remains to be thrown in the garbage.

I am so incredibly blessed that I was able to labor and pass my baby at home without pressure, without the cold, sterile environment of the hospital and without strangers checking in and probing and questioning me during some of the saddest moments of my life.  More women need to know that they have that right.  They do NOT have to do anything when they find out their baby has died and they are in the process of miscarrying.  Almost always, there is no rush to pass the baby and I know several women for whom the entire process took several weeks.  Afterwards, a doctor or midwife can check to make sure the miscarriage was complete so that there aren't any complications.  Often, health care professionals are not comfortable with waiting and in my opinion, it is more because they are uncomfortable with the grief and the waiting.  They don't understand why a woman wouldn't just want to "get it over with."  When it comes to labor and birth and miscarriage and newborn care, efficiency often trumps what is actually in the best interest of the mother and baby. 

***I also know several babies who are alive today because their mother did NOT go in for the recommended D&C when they were told that they were miscarrying.  They really were just too early for the baby's heartbeat to show up on the ultrasound and had wrong dates.  The baby was absolutely fine and healthy and mom was simply having some spotting.  The D&C literally would have killed their unborn baby.  If you are told that your baby has died ALWAYS ALWAYS ALWAYS check and double check and triple check BEFORE having a D&C for a miscarriage.  And if you have doubts, do NOT do it. ***

 The reason I write all of this today is that October 15 is Pregnancy and Infant Loss Remembrance Day.    In October of 1988, President Reagan declared October National Pregnancy and Infant Loss Awareness month.  Probably not coincidentally it is also "Respect Life" month within the Catholic Church.  Families throughout the world will be lighting candles at 7 p.m. in memory of the babies lost before, during, or shortly after birth.  These babies deserve to be recognized and remembered.

And allow me to say something else.  These babies are REAL.  Joseph Mary is REAL.  Those who have had an unborn child die are grieving a real death.  They are not just grieving an "idea" or a "dream" (the insult of that is unbelievable).  They are grieving a very real person who lived and then died.  I've heard people say some pretty stupid things in regard to the personhood of the unborn child.  I think the attitude that most makes me want to bang my head against a wall is the idea that a baby is a baby only if others recognize that he or she is so.  He was not a baby and worthy of living simply because we believed he was a baby.  That is ridiculous and insulting and just plain illogical.  Throughout history entire groups of people have tried to dehumanize others in order to justify their own repulsive actions.  Whether it was Jews or homosexuals or people of color or the disabled, it has been done before and is being done today.  A person's dignity does not rest upon the belief of outside forces and you do not exist merely because I think you exist and you do not merit personhood because someone else determines you are wanted.  It's ridiculous.  And yet I see ardently pro-choice people swoon over ultrasounds and name their unborn blobs of cells while still maintaining the notion that others should be allowed to kill another life that is at the very same stage because they are less wanted.

I also think it is time for those who recognize the dignity of the unborn and newly born and to ACT LIKE IT.  If someone you know suffers a miscarriage or a stillbirth, recognize it.  Treat them like their child just died, BECAUSE THEIR CHILD JUST DID.  I know sometimes grief is uncomfortable and we don't know what to say or do but we need to get over it.  Send a card.  Cook them dinner.  Send flowers.  Have a Mass said for the baby.  Give them a Christmas ornament to hang on their tree in memory of that baby.  Say the child's name.  Remember the anniversary.  Give them a plant to plant in memory of that baby.  Listen to them.  Call them to see how they are doing.  Let them cry.  Above all, don't just pretend it didn't happen and try not to say anything stupid.  (FYI:  "At least you have other children," "it wasn't meant to be," "it was God's will" and "they're better off now" are all stupid.  When in doubt, just say "I'm sorry.")

For all those other mothers and fathers who are grieving the loss of a baby, you are not alone.  I want to tell you that I am so very very sorry.  I want to tell you that your baby was real and that your grief is real.  I want to tell you that my heart breaks for you and that your baby matters.  I want you to know that there is no grief allotment based on the age of your baby.  And while you will always remember that baby, that raw and wrenching grief will be softened over time and with faith.  And believe it or not, the God of life can make beautiful things out of this horrific tragedy you have endured.  I know.  I have a Michael and a David and a Luke to prove it.  But that still doesn't mean that you won't miss the one you didn't get to know any less.  

I want you to know that you can name your baby.  I want you to know that you can ask for a picture of the ultrasound and that it may become the most precious picture you own (and don't let them tell you no).  I want you to know that you can give your baby a dignified burial.  I want you to know that your son or daughter can be your own personal patron saint and that they don't become an angel.  I want you to know that your child can now pray for you.  I want you to know that if you have other children you can tell them about the sibling they don't know.  It's good for them.  I want you to know that fathers grieve, too, and often it's very different than the way that mothers do.  I want you to know that many people will not get it and will say dumb things (but you probably already know that).

And lastly, I want you to know that I would absolutely love to meet your son or daughter some day and I hope you will introduce me.  And then, more than anything in the world, I would love for you to meet my precious Joseph Mary.  

Pin It

Seven Quick Takes and An Award!

Oooh, color me flattered that Karen nominated me for the Beautiful Blogger Award!

Karen is so sweet and is one of the busiest homeschooling mamas ever!  She teaches,  she crochets, she blogs, she gardens, she cans ridiculous amounts of produce (I'm totally going to her place in the event of the Barackalypse (like that?)).  She has six beautiful children and is one busy lady!

So, I guess there are rules for this little shindig:

• Copy the Beautiful Blogger Award logo and place it in your post.
• Write something about the blogger who nominated you and link back to their blog.
• Share seven things about yourself.
• Nominate other bloggers for the Beautiful Blogger Award and comment on their blogs to let them know.

This sounds a little bit like a chain letter but hey, I was called beautiful!  How can I resist??  Now...dare I try to combine my seven things and Seven Quick Takes??  Is that allowed?  Does the blogosphere frown on that?  Will I be ostracized and blacklisted from all the fun bloggy linkups?  Rebel that I am, I shall try...

1.

I can't help it.  One of the main reasons I must partake of 7QT this week is that the Jenster is giving away a $50 (!) gift card to Amazon!  Do you know how many Christmas gifts I could get with that?  I am cheap and I like to win things.

2.

I think that was two.  But want to know some of the things I've won before?  A pie eating contest, a fertility monitor, a pancake eating contest, second place in the school spelling bee in 6th grade, the NCAA football pool in 7th grade (completely guessed) and not one but two pie making contests.

3.

I hate it when my hair is wet.  HATE HATE HATE it.  So much so that no one is allowed to touch me after a shower until my hair loses that horribly icky feeling and I feel normal again.  I shudder just thinking about it.  (It's okay when it is getting wet.  Just not after the time when it is supposed to be wet.  I'm not, you know, weird.)

4.

I never liked shrimp until I was pregnant with John Paul and craved it.  Now I love it.  With Luke I went through a caramel phase.  Now I love that, too.  

  

5.

Sometimes the only clothes that fit me are in the little girls section.  Don't think that's awesome.  It's not.  When you realize that your choice of jeans involve either sequins bedazzled onto your rear or flared legs that could hide a small toddler, you will understand my plight.

6.

It is awesome, though, when you have sprite feet.  Did you know that a woman's size 6 is equivalent to a girl's 4??  And that sometimes (especially with sneakers) they have almost exactly the same shoes but the girls' are much cheaper?  I saved myself $20 on the running shoes that no longer run with this little tidbit.  So, that's number 6.  I have sprite feet that save me money.

7.

Some of the nicknames I've suffered over my little lifetime:  Goose, Mary-Tware, Tware, Shotgun, Kiwi, Mofo, Foze.  Now it's the ordinary but almost always endearing (except when it's whined) Mama.

Head over to Jen's for more Quick Taking:

(pick me, Jen, pick me!!  I'll even buy you a Christmas gift!)

Now to go nominate me some beautiful blogs...

Pin It

{pretty, happy, funny, real} - pumpkin babies

{pretty}

I have a new niece and she is certainly pretty!  And beautiful.  And adorable.  And squeezable.

{happy}

The other night was pumpkin picking in the back yard!

{funny}

Do you think my husband is trying out his crunchy baby wearing GQ pose?  Certainly looks like it ;)

Of course, I think the Luketronamous is the cutest thing ever in the world but even I can admit that sometimes he's just plain goofy looking.  And I love it.

{real}

In three year old boy world, the coolness of pumpkin picking is surpassed only by a worm sighting.

Linking up with Leila and the ladies over at...

Pin It