I like gummy bear | i love gummy bear | gummy bear song english

Those faces. I could eat them with a spoon. So awesome. I love them.

I've had this book sitting on my desk all summer. My daughter wrote it in her kindergarten class just before school ended. I found it in her backpack along with a huge pile of other papers in mid-June. It made me laugh so hard (and still does) that I had to share it. It's titled "Me and My Girls". Girls are awsum. (Girls are awesome.) Girls are not trubl makrs. (Girls are not troublemakers.) Girls are roolrs of the wold. (Girls are rulers of the world.) Girls owes war dress. (Girls always wear dresses.) Girls are one of the best hamins in the wold. (Girls are one of the best humans in the world.) And my personal favorite double-page spread - Girls have honisty. (Girls have honesty.) Girls can camitucat. (Girls can communicate.) Seriously? Girls can communicate?! I'm assuming that the unspoken message here is that boys are lying, thieving bastards who can't communicate to save their lives. How did she learn this universal truth already??? So good.

Here are the five bags my daughter packed for a two-night trip to Omaha. These were lined up by the garage door when I got out of bed on Wednesday morning. These bags contained two completely random outfits (one of which included the shorts to a pajama set), two nightgowns, two pair of underpants, a bathing suit and goggles, four lip glosses, a hairbrush, six beanie babies, four My Little Ponies, an amusement park prize stuffed animal, her security Lambie (head poking out in far right of photo), a second stuffed lamb, one pair of Crocs, two compact mirrors, seven Dr. Suess books and a set of Crayola Color Wonder markers with Glitter Princess paper. I told her that five bags wasn't happening. She assessed the situation and informed me that she really needed everything she packed. Unfortunately for her, I then had to handle it. We got that down to one bag with two different outfits, one nightgown, two pair of underpants, bathing suit, goggles, one lip gloss, hairbrush, Lambie, sneake

Back in February, I volunteered to organize my 20 year high school reunion. In hindsight, I have no earthly idea why. But I did. People wanted it to be held in the summertime so I frantically began planning and trying to track down 325 people on the internet. The planning process was stressful and created much anxiety for me. I took every "no" RSVP as a personal affront. Stupid, I know. So, two weekends ago was reunion weekend. The turnout was pretty good. And those who did attend appeared to have a great time. I was amazed at a few things. First - I have only truly kept up with three people from high school. The rest of my high school friends, I haven't really seen in about 20 years. And, at least for one weekend, I really enjoyed seeing those old friends and we all fell immediately back into a comfortable friendship despite the years. That shared history - however long ago - was enough. Even when the topic of conversation wasn't "remember when...". It was

Over the years, I have come to realize that I express myself better on paper or in email than in person. This is true in daily conversation to some extent but it is very true when I'm angry or upset. I can collect my thoughts and say what I really mean. And, I think, it allows my husband to consider my perspective in a similarly contemplative manner before responding. Our most constructive disagreements often involve an exchange of emails. I found this on my husband's desk this evening. The big kids had been playing on his computer earlier in the day. Apparently, big brother wasn't giving little sister her way. There was no written response from G to be found. My guess? He probably just ignored her drama, hoping that it would pass. Like father, like son? :)

The only one of my four who touched the salsa. He had his own bowl. Which had to be refilled before dinner was over. This is, of course, the same kid who eats Buffalo Chicken Dip with Frank's Hot Sauce ... (sorry for the poor photo quality - phone pic in dark restaurant...)

M is on a really good softball team. Not good insofar as talent - they're just six, so we can't exactly judge talent yet. But a good group of good girls from good families. We haven't always been so lucky with sports teams (specifically G's various sports teams over the years). This one though? Is a good one. Kinda sad to see this season end actually. Which means a lot coming from me - I'm not exactly the sports parent who is overly excited to watch and practice and coach, etc.

My children in their pajamas* playing poker with my husband at the kitchen table. With betting. I'm not even sure what to say about that. Except that it made me laugh and get the camera. They're obsessed. *G is wearing long flannel pajamas. It is July in Kansas. I have no idea what that's all about. It makes me sweaty just to look at him.

I took my big kids to Union Station today to see the Narnia exhibit. I posted about the exhibit over at KCKidsFun - click here to see some cute video of the kids. We had lunch at the Harvey House Diner, with milkshakes of course. Then we walked The Link from Union Station to Crown Center to see the LEGO exhibit, which was pretty cool (though smaller than I expected). And then we stopped at the toy store. Didn't buy anything but I enjoyed watching them roam the store more than anything else we did all day.

About a week or so ago, my two older kids and I went for a walk. It was mostly just to kill time and get out of the house before bed. I grabbed my camera and asked the kids to tell what to take pictures of. There wasn't much happening on our wooded walking trail that evening, so we got lots of pics of flowers and foliage. And we brought some daisies home with us and deposited them into a bud vase and a tall shot glass on the kitchen windowsill. A few days later, I noticed we brought home a little bit more than plant matter. A tiny green inchworm had taken up residence on one of the daisies. I showed him to G - who promptly adopted the little creature. And named him Mark. Mark is dead now. But he was a good worm. We will miss him.

Seven-year-old boys are kinda weird. Let's just get it out there. I said it. It's true. Actually, boys in general are kinda weird from age five until age...well, whatever. Boys are weird. Here's G showing me how tough he is with the pseudo-mohawk he had for five minutes while his father buzzed him. He couldn't even keep a straight face. I love this kid. And,yes, mother, it's gone now.

My people. A whole afternoon with just my five favorite people. (And the animals and other freaks at the zoo.)