Not so adventures of the St. Clair clan...

 Our two-year-old daughter turned her pepperoni pizza into a pistol yesterday and spent several minutes dispatching bad guys around the house.  Ross and I exchanged simultaneous looks of surprise and amusement.  And then Ross paused what he was doing and corrected her form...just kidding.  He was one of the bad guys and just wanted to avoid getting tomato sauce on his shorts.   The prior morning, during a family photo shoot, it was her sister that had us exchanging glances.   "She's so cute rubbing those two sticks together."   "Well, she's trying to start a fire...."  Less cute.  *Photo Credit: brownmoosephotography Obviously, the girls keep close eyes on their brothers, and we in turn, have to keep close eyes on all four of them.  Sometimes we wonder if we're doing this parenting thing right.  Then we read another news headline and conclude that, "Yep, survival skills might come in handy.  We'll let that ride." The skill set that might be

You know that out of control feeling when your face contorts like a wet mop and you just have to go with it?  I think it's called "ugly crying."  Now take that concept and apply it to feeding yourself.  I'm calling it "ugly eating."   The food was just that good.   We spent some time at Newport last weekend with friends I've known since college.  They were there with their kids so we came to join them for a weekend and introduced them to clamming.  It was muddy and phenomenal.  Every kid (including the grown up ones) got their fill of mud and digging holes.   What is it with boys and holes?  We had to implement a rule at our house about digging.  We have lots of acreage where digging might be considered appropriate, but you may not create manmade lakes, craters, caves, or oceans in the immediate yard area.  The boys have lost shovel privilege's several times in consequence of that particular rule.      But clamming.  We got our limits worth of  mud a

 This week was full of playdates, dinner guests, Vacation Bible School, and a variety of other activities - all good things, but a lot.  Before the week was half over, I was dragging a bit.  I needed a boost to get through my day.  A nap sounded pleasant in theory, but kids.....   Option number two was coffee.  It seemed like a good plan at noon.  Unfortunately, it took me another hour to make it happen.   Apparently, I'm no longer a two coffee a day person.  Even if the second coffee is more sugar than caffeine (thank you local coffee stand).  It  definitely did it's job, it just did it a little too well.  We got through our day in one piece and put the kids to bed by 7:30.   Between 7:30 and 9:00, I fit in another whole day worth of projects.  Dishes, gardening, weed whacking, chicken chores, laundry - it was an epic amount of activity.  And I felt great!  It didn't occur to me why I was so productive.       By my bed time, I was physically worn out.  I couldn't wait

 I used an entire magic eraser and entirely too many minutes scrubbing pitch off our sliding glass door handle this evening.  Just the handle.  It worked, so chalk that up to another "win" for Mr. Clean, but I am considering charging my time and the cost of the eraser to our boys' account.  I can't with those two...I don't even know where to begin.     Sawyer came in the house while I was cleaning the kitchen before starting dinner prep.  I mostly ignored him when he said he put pitch on his hand.  I gave him a, "Well, that wasn't very smart," and that was about it.  I didn't look up.  I didn't stop my sweeping of breakfast, lunch, and craft debris from under the table.  He left for the bathroom. A short time later, he returned to the kitchen and asked for coconut oil.  If you didn't love it all ready, coconut oil is a champ at removing pitch and Sawyer has proven this theory.  Because he already knew the consequences of touching pitch a

 We recently had to spend some time at home as a family because: Covid.  I don't hate being stuck at home, but it was not exactly the greatest timing.  When is it a good time to be sick?  There were some things that the kids were especially sad to miss out on, but I made up for it by letting them have cereal for breakfast.  That pretty much heals all wounds in our house.  I guess they are tired of option oatmeal.   Anyway, between that and some extra screen time, we came out smelling like lilies - almost as good as roses.     Looking at the bright side of things, it also saved me from having to see people face to face while my face exploded.  Why, pray tell, am I almost forty with the acne of a fourteen year-old?  I am currently sporting a second chin.  You're welcome for my staying at home.   When I was younger...much younger, somebody said that having skin that tended to be on the oily end of the spectrum would keep it looking young longer.  For the record, that is false . 

  I have heard people say that getting toddlers to do something is a lot like herding cats.  I disagree.  Herding cats sounds possible.  I think I'd rather do that.  Cats are certainly more predictable than toddlers...at least our toddlers.   To that point, today I had one of the twins pointing out my "owies" and kissing them, next thing I know she turns around and slaps her sister, then hits the ground and starts meowing like a kitty.  (A feral kitty if you ask me.)  I sat there in stunned silence, not because I was surprised by her antics, but because her sister jumped right in and slapped her back.  I had an all out brawl...or cat fight on my hands, and they're only two.  What are they going to be like when they are thirteen?! Maybe it's our combined genetics, or lack of parenting skills, or maybe we just drew a couple of wild cards.  I don't know.  I do know  that in the last two days both my sister and Ross have brought up Nanny 911 .   I'd forgotten