I’m putting up a bunch of pictures today. I’m sure that’s the only way I’m going to catch up.

Crafting time used to involve us making all sorts of different things. Isabelle would ask for something and I would cut out a shape and then tinier little bits and let her go glue crazy. We’d make things like rain clouds.

A butterfly on occasion.

Chocolate chip cookies.

Or princess crowns.

But seeing that she has a new obsession now, it’s all butterflies. What would you like Isabelle, I ask. A butterfly, she replies. Then after that I ask again and she asks for another butterfly and another and another. It’s a family of butterflies.

And we’re having a global adventure! Doesn’t that sound fun?

It’s our homeschool meetup group. Once a month we’re meeting to learn about a new country. The kids got their pictures taken and they’ll be getting little pretend passports with stamps from the countries we’re “visiting”.

This past week we “visited” Ireland. And the kids got to make Irish soda bread.

And now I must stop typing. Nathan is fussing. Well at least I got these pictures up.

Just going through more old pictures and throwing them into one big jumbly post.

I killed another one.

Plants just do not like me.

He lives in a pineapple under the sea…

…one of Isabelle’s new fish.

Well it was new months and months ago because this picture is that old. The brightly colored hokey Spongebob aquarium decorations actually make me quite happy.

Nathan doesn’t usually use a pacifier. But we had one the other day. We were out and about and the pacifier fell out onto a bench. Isabelle picked it up and then told the woman who was sitting close by that it was her brother’s pacifier. The woman said in a mean tone, yes it’s your brother’s pacifier. Mean to my 4 year old. What was her problem?! Doesn’t like pacifiers? Doesn’t like children? Just came across mean and didn’t know it? Do some people don’t realize they sound mean? What’s up with people who look mean or act mean? I’m a mean bitch but I usually try to be nice to people and smile and I would never talk to a child that way.

Moving on…


making happy face garlands with Isabelle makes me happy.

And they make me happy:

My cowboy:

His hair doesn’t stick up like this anymore:

What’s up with the posing?

Oh and…

…shark butt.

Goodnight!

Well, all the dorks in this household. Today, I went to my first comic book convention. I didn’t know what to expect. We went without even knowing who was going to be there. And I was pretty much happy within the first few minutes of arriving. Before we even purchased our tickets, we saw people dressed up in costume. Storm troopers. Storm troopers? Big whoop. Whatever. BUT right next to the storm troopers:

Well hello Doctor!! Funnily, Alan did not recognize the Doctor or the Ood but did recognize the walking dead guy in between.

The rest of the convention was a little hyperventilating inducing. It was crowded and sadly not filled with as many costumed people as I expected. Maybe that’s because it was Easter Sunday. Or maybe the rain kept them away. Or maybe they all came and went on Friday and Saturday. But I guess that’s ok because otherwise it may have been even more crowded.

And how did Isabelle like it? Well, she didn’t think it was anything great. The costumed people scared her. She covered her eyes when they walked by. Or hid behind our legs. Even R2D2 scared her. She said, “robots are scary.” She wanted to go home after we took a little break to change and nurse Nathan.

We almost left but then Alan said he overheard someone say they better hurry or they’d miss the Chuck Q&A. So, we went searching for a schedule. Somehow we didn’t get one because…I don’t know. Distracted with two kids? Sucky registration lady? And good thing we did find one because otherwise we would have missed Chuck! Sadly we did miss most of Human Target. But Chuck! We got Chuck!

And it was cool. We got to watch tomorrow’s episode! And it was awesome. It’s pretty cool to watch a Chuck episode with a room full of other people who like Chuck. I mean hundreds upon hundreds of people. It’s a really different experience than watching it at home by yourself. Then after there was a question and answer session. I stayed for most of it until Nathan started fussing.

Then after that we were ready to leave. I think the strangest thing I saw there was this, in the elevator:

Alan said maybe an invisible man was standing there. Ok. How weird, out of all the costumed people I saw, the thing I find the strangest was a pair of shoes in the elevator?

So, on the whole I rather enjoyed it, crowds and all. I especially got a kick out of seeing the actors and actresses from tv shows I’ve watched. I swear I must have walked by James Marsters, Brent Spiner, and John de Lancie four or five times (they were all sitting together in the same area). I didn’t talk to them. I just walked by and stared. Because I AM a dork.

Would I go again next year? Probably. And maybe we’ll actually check to see who’s going to be there beforehand.

I meant to write about our caterpillars on Tuesday. But Nathan’s isn’t feeling well. He has a runny nose and I’ve just been distracted. You know, life. So, that’s why I just shared a single picture. But today I’ll continue where I left off before I got distracted by the kids.

We received the box two weeks ago. It said “open immediately” but I was too grossed out to open them immediately. I know. Ridiculous. It’s not like the caterpillars were crawling around loose inside the box. So, the next day I opened them. And they were tiny. See, here’s Isabelle.

And see how tiny the caterpillars are?

Well, three days later, they weren’t so tiny anymore.

And now it’s been two weeks since we received our box and the caterpillars are all in the becoming chrysalises stage.

Oooohh cool and so creepy. This has actually been a really awesome “toy”. And it was easy. We didn’t have to do anything except leave them alone. When we get butterflies I think we’ll release them as long as the weather is warm enough.

Ok. Enough talk about creepy crawly bugs. The bug talk has got me all itchy now.