Half-pint's Faith...

Tonight, as I was putting the boys to bed, Half-pint came into Quarter-pint's room with a question:
"Mom, do you know where my alphabet game is?"

"No, I'm not sure which game you're talking about."

"My Leapster alphabet game. I looked everywhere."

"Sorry, I don't know where it is...look again and I'll be in soon to read to you."

Then he headed back to his room and I finished the bedtime routine with Quarter-pint.

When I got to Half-pint's room, he was busily playing the alphabet game. He barely noticed when I came in and asked him where he found his game. He paused and looked up at me and simply said:

"I said a prayer to Jesus and found it."

Then he was back to his game...

Quart-pint Cuts His Hair...

Crazy things happen when the kids are left to play while the moms have a presidency meeting. I thought all the kids were playing rather nicely...at least they didn't seem to need the attention of the moms. Near the end of the meeting, Half-pint comes into the kitchen carrying a pair of scissors and declared " Quarter-pint cut his hair with these scissors." Then he dutifully handed them to me and walked out. I jumped up and ran to find Quarter-pint to assess the damage--thankful he didn't' cut anything more than his hair. When I found him, I also found long pieces of his blond hair all over the end table in the living room. As I rubbed the top of his head, I realized a lot of hair was flying away. On closer inspection, I was relieved to see he actually cut a patch that's not on the very top of his head, but just an underneath layer from the top of his head. I quickly determined we didn't need to shave it all off, or take him in to have it fixed. He's been telling everyone that he used scissors (NOT these scissors...they don't really open) on his hair all week long!

Quarter-pint Is At It Again...

I realized today that Quarter-pint is about the same age

Half-pint was when I began this blog...heaven help us!

The boys were playing nicely together in the basement this afternoon, when they came upstairs to find me. I quickly noticed a familiar, but not terribly common (in my house) smell. I recognized it almost immediately...bleach. I then took a closer look at the boys' clothes-both were beginning to show the distinct signs of...bleach. I quickly made them both strip down and threw their clothes into the washer on a rise cycle-in a desperate attempt to minimize the damage. Then I ran downstairs dreading the scene I would find. Half-pint was right behind me filling me in on the details. Apparently Quarter-pint knocked over a bottle of bathroom cleaner (with...bleach) and the lid broke off. Then as best I can figure, he got a little on his own clothes and smeared more on his brother. Thankfully the mess seemed to be contained to a small area in the unfinished basement, with most of the...bleach on the painted sub-floor. It cleaned up quickly and without any noticeable damage. There was a little...bleach ring on the shelf where Half-pint put the bottle-out of Quarter-pint's reach.

As I tried to call Daddy to have someone to commiserate with, I sat on the top of the cooler chest and immediately had a wet bum-DRAT-now I have...bleach on my pants! They immediately went into the washer with the rest of the destroyed clothes. I think I have all the...bleach cleaned up and now waiting the results of the washing machine--I'm pretty sure Half-pint's pants and shirt are ruined; Quarter-pint's shirt might be salvable and I think my jeans will be okay. Amazingly, Quarter-pint managed to keep his own pants...bleach free.

Mother's Day...

Nearly every morning for the past two weeks, Half-pint has come into my room in the wee hours of the morning asking "Is it Mother's Day today?" I can probably thank Ms. B.- his preschool teacher for at least some of his enthusiasm. I know they worked on a Mother's day gift at school for about a week, and were talking about it before that. When I picked him up from school on Thursday, he couldn't contain his excitement and gave me his gift right then...a beautifully decorated photo frame, complete with a picture of the two of us.

Then, on the duly appointed morning, I vaguely heard Daddy say something like, "Wait for me, I'll come down stairs in a minute" before I rolled over and went back to sleep. Before I knew it, there was Quarter-pint, his bright little face in mine, saying "It's your Mother's Day!" The boys (mostly Half-pint, with a little help from Daddy) had made me breakfast--scrambled eggs, waffles and toast. (Yes, Half-pint made scrambled eggs with supervision from Daddy!) Each did their part in bringing the feast to me in bed-Quarter-pint carrying the fork, knife and napkin, Half-pint the plate brimming with food, and Daddy a glass of water. The boys were so excited and proud! They then proceeded to climb on the bed and help me eat the delicious breakfast.

The rest of the day was equally nice...with church and Half-pint giving a great primary talk, then dinner at my parent's house. It was a delicious feast created by Dad. Then off to wish Grammy a happy Mother's Day on our way home. The boys were happy a fairly well behaved all day.

Who could ask for a better holiday?