Messy Marvin

This post is for my friends who have boys.

This is proof... it is pure gossip that boys are messier than girls. For those who have subscribed to that theory... you haven't met Gigi.

This bathroom was clean until Gigi got out of bed and got ready for the day. Greta and I call her Messy Marvin (with love of course).

One time we even found toothpaste on the ceiling.

Celebration Cake

Strawberry shortcake - Yummy!

Only four more cakes left.
Then I will have to come up with another reason to eat cake. Who am I kidding - you don't need a reason to eat cake.

Jordan, Gigi, Ashton, Regan, Greta

14 LBS OF STRAWBERRIES

June is here and so are the strawberries at The Pride Of Wapsi. We picked a little over 14 lbs of strawberries. That doesn't count the many many red ripe delicious strawberries that the girls ate while picking. Gigi isn't a strawberry lover but she liked these so much that she didn't need lunch when we were finished.

Sound It Out

Greta has worked diligently all year in kindergarten on her reading skills. This is one of my favorite ways to enjoy the day... I am so happy that she also likes to read and relax. I don't know if you can tell but she is reading a classic - Dick and Jane.

Miracles Do Happen

It's a Christmas Miracle! okay, you got me. It's not Christmas time but it is a miracle... a summer break miracle.

The girls got along for an entire day!

It was a beautiful, mind boggling day. Those of you who have kids who are close in age and play "together" each day know what a wonderful, fantastic, splendid, unheard of event it is when there is peace in the house. If your kids don't bicker together... don't bust my bubble. Keep it to yourself. Some things are better left unsaid.

I had to capture it on film so I will never ever ever ever forget this day.

Greta tries to ride her bike.

I can't tell you how many friends have said, "I wouldn't tell anyone else this story if I were you." So what do I plan to do... post it with pictures. Why? I think it is funny and so me.

There are certain things I believe are a Dad's job.
1. Taking out the trash
2. Carrying Christmas decorations up and down the stairs
3. Putting things away in the garage
4. Teaching the girls how to ride their bikes.

Luckily, I am a modern Army wife. Plus, I don't like my trash to pile up for a year so I do most of the things I mentioned. But you will be the first to find out that I am stepping back into time. Returning to the kitchen, the cave, the rib. I am not going to teach Greta how to ride her bike. Let me rephrase that sentence... I am not going to try to teach Greta how to ride her bike AGAIN. I am saving that one for Gene.

I'll shorten the story of the day I tried to teach Greta to ride her bike by telling the "Gigi Version."

G: You should have seen it. Mom didn't want to squish Greta and kill her so she dived over her, rolled three times, and hit the light pole.

In my defense:
I didn't hit the light pole.
I did dive over Greta when she tried to "jump" off of the bike.
I did the Rambo dive because I didn't want to be on the evening news as a tragic story where the "big boned" Mom fell on her five year old and squished her to death.
I did end out leaving part of my knee on the pavement as well as pulling muscles in my back and shoulder, spraining my wrist, seriously banging up my elbow, and a nice variety pack of bruises.
I did have to visit to the doctor, get x-rays, and more doctor visits are scheduled.

I think this is all so funny and will make for a good story when Greta is older. Greta will learn how to ride her bike before she goes off to college. I promise.