I'm so glad when Daddy is home...

story time at Casa Bunker...and the boys in their Daddy nightshirts...

how does your garden grow?

So, I'm in YW at church and I'm working on my personal progress (again). Oh, the irony.

So, one of my faith value projects is to plant, care for, and harvest a vegetable garden. In the 3 years we've lived in this house, I've wanted to do exactly that. But I just never have.

But this year, I had a reason. I thought and thought about what to plant. I'm the only one in our family who likes tomatoes. I'm the only one who likes squashy veggies. Are you sensing a trend, here?

So, I'm like, if I'm the only one who's going to even eat this stuff, why am I planting again?

Oh, yeah. Personal progress.

Then I had a brilliant idea. I like salsa fresca. For reals. I do. Who doesn't? So instead of the zucchini you can't make into bread because nobody eats it and then it's like 3 feet long and you can't even give it away...I've planted a salsa garden. Tomatoes, jalapenos, onions, and cilantro. It's in a 4 x 4 square.

My little helpers helped me prep the site last Saturday...My garden grows with kid-power! Wish us luck!

shorts...on my head

When are shorts on your head not funny?

boys and their vehicles...

The other days the boys were out in the yard. They collected all the neighborhood vehicles (bikes, push cars, etc) and lined them up and played with them. Our neighbor has one of those little kid bubble lawnmowers that my kids like to fight over. All of them. All the time.

Will was distressed that he wasn't getting his turn with the lawnmower. I reminded him there were lots of other vehicles to choose from....but that was not what he wanted to hear. Next thing I know, he's gone to the backest back of the back yard (behind the shed) and retrieved his Daddy's lawnmower and pushed it over the divets of our very bumpy backyard all the way to the front yard.

MY lawnmower. He announced triumphantly to his older brothers whose little bubble mower definitely paled in comparison. That's Will.

speaking of pretties...

One morning I woke to find that Steven had done Abby's hair.

NICE.

She was the crankiest she's ever been that day. Seriously.

Bad hair days will do that to you.

Note to self: Daddy does not do hair... appropriately.

pretties in my hair...

This is Abby dressed to impress for library day (hence the nametag). For those of you who don't know, Abby is not a fan of anything in her hair (we call them pretties). Many times I find she has ripped them out and eaten the little elastics in the car, leaving behind two massive pigtail bumps for when we go into the store. But here she is with some clips, looking very cute...

































Oops...now she's discovered the clip...














and now she's bringing it to me...
"Mom, we talked about this..."

only my girl

Abby is very nearly 17 months old. Can you believe it? I know, you can't believe it. You can't even imagine it really because it's been so stinkin' long since I posted a picture. I'm sorry. Old computer - new computer blues. Right now the old computer (the picture computer) is buried under an assortment of laundry - what surface of my house isn't? - as well as a vaccuum hose and who even knows what else. So, since a picture's worth 1000 words, I guess this post will have to be a couple thousand to make up for its picture-less-ness. And yes, that's a word - look it up.

Abby went to nursery on Sunday. God bless the nursery leaders they didn't say no. She is as big as a 2 year old after all - and she can stick up for herself. Steve dropped her off and she went right in. We lingered longer near the nursery hall (this is code for ditched Sunday School) and she never cried, they never brought her out. A friend of mine in the nursery said a little boy pulled her pigtail - she didn't even cry. She squawked at him, pulled away, and went and found another toy to play with. Steve picked her up smiling - albeit with disheveled hair - and happy. (no months of tears or mommy on a toddler chair for weeks - just a happy kid going to her class - where they have toys!) only my girl.

The other night she wanted to play with her brothers while I was making dinner. No dice. They wanted to play big boy games and she isn't. Big or a boy. So I brought a bucket of lego blocks into the kitchen and set her on the floor with them. This way she would stay by me and away from the big boys. She pulled the lid off and I waited for the inevitable. (that's the part when my boys dump the entire contents of the bucket on the floor.) Abby pulled each block out one at a time into a pile on the floor. Then she pulled out one of the lego men in his orange hard hat, looked up at me, smiled, and said, "baby!" She happily played with said insulted lego man for the entire time I made dinner. only my girl.

I took her crib apart last night. It's going to spend some quality time at Casa Adams. I put her on the crib mattress on the floor and prepared myself to pull up a rug while I laid by her and waited for her to fall asleep. That is, after all, the way I'd done it three times before. She thought since I was in there, we should play. I got up and went in the hall, preparing myself mentally for the 3000 return-her-to-bed trips I would have to make. But she stayed. I hope you understand the gravity of this - especially considering her older brother Will still thinks an unlocked door is an invitation to not be in bed. Sam and Jake must still get out of bed 1000 times to see what I'm doing, to get a drink, to go potty, and all the other things that are not GET IN YOUR BED! She STAYS!! It's like a miracle. A pink, pig-tailed, rosy cheeked miracle! only my girl.

Who knew pink could be so sweet?!