Summary: Evidence I’ve been a good mom this week

 

I baked 300 plates of cookies on Saturday.  And I don’t think I even got mad at anyone the whole day.  Even though I was feeling sick and guilty from the 72 plates of cookies I put in my mouth.  (If you didn’t get one, that’s cause I ate it.)

 

I took the kids sledding after school on Tuesday.  Seth said “OH!  This is sledding?  That’s why people say it’s fun!!”  When I asked Jane if she’d had fun as we drove home, she replied: “Uh, duh?!”

 

I went to TWO Christmas singing programs.  Enough said.  (No picture of Emma, because Jessica A. doesn’t have a kid her age.)

 

I actually helped at the kids’ school Christmas parties. 

      

I’m including a picture of Will (in our ward) whom I overheard saying “Man!  I love days like this!”, I looked over and quickly snapped a picture because this was how he was sitting:

 

I finally got Gabe’s hair cut.  We took him to an actual salon and it looks much better (see the “before picture” above).  When I asked him if he liked it, he said “No” and I asked, “Why?”  and he said, “ I think it’s just cause I don’t like girls touching my hair.”            

I’m pretty chill about Faith constantly wrecking the decor.  Here she is, with her favorite ornament (it’s Gabe’s 1st Christmas ornament), wrestling it away as Gabe tries to grab it back.  She goes right for it and has the most triumphant look on her face as she swipes it and runs away.

While the carpets were being cleaned, we took the kids to Golden Corral, the Dollar store (see Faith with the helmet --$1.00--on in the dirty store), Walmart and the library.  All in one morning. 

I initially got really mad and glared and slightly yelled at Emma when she forgot to remove the cinnamon rolls from the oven and burned them (while babysitting).  The cinnamon rolls that took 2 lbs of butter.  And 3 hours to make.  And that I never got a taste of. 

Then I went/stormed upstairs and realized that I’ve only forgotten about something in the oven 178 times in my life, and she was allowed 1.  I went immediately back down and said, “Who cares about a pan of cinnamon rolls?”  After the plates of cookies I ate last week, my thighs were certainly better off without them.

So, see?  I’m not always yelling and mean.