Sweet Genius

Ever seen that dessert competition show on the Food Network, Sweet Genius? (Not an endorsement, it's terrible, don't watch it, but definitely go read that link about it.) I only really like the name, and the funny accent the host uses when he says "sweet genius."

Anyway.

I think about that every time Nathan wants to make treats. And he is always looking for any excuse to make some treats. (I don't know where he gets that.) This time, it was peanut butter and jelly bars for youth choir.

(Yes, we make bars in a pie pan. Clearly I am not a sweet genius.)

Renovation, Day 772: Deck Painting

Well, apparently Mark and Another Nathan didn't paint together enough in 2011, because they were suddenly, out of nowhere, gung ho about beautifying our pool deck out back.

I rolled my eyes. And then got on board.

And then got really glad I got on board because whoa what a difference. Here's what it looked like BEFORE:

(This picture is from last summer before the sweet Ueckers moved away. Annie doesn't mind the rough peeling paint and weird color and half-broken gazebo frame.)

So then Mark pressure washed for a few days, we sampled several colors (only four! sorry to disappoint you), we shut the kids out of the pool area, and painted.

Well, I painted a little. Another Nathan painted a lot. And Marky painted a crap ton.

Nathan pretended to help. (That one extremely well-covered corner took days to fully dry.)

And then in a sudden burst of last-minute momentum, Mark also decided to stain the fence to match! The end result looks so much better. Don't you think? Here's the AFTER:

For something I look at every time I glance out the back doors of our living room (which is... a lot), it makes me feel happy every time I see it.

Who's coming over to swim?

My Middlest Baby, at Half And a Three

I have started to write this post for months now, y'all. MONTHS. Like, since November.

Because I want to fill you in with what's going on with Anneliese, and tell you yay! she's three! a new chapter! It's getting better! We're back in our groove!

And most days, I believe that.

But then we have a day or a week when everything is horrible and exhausting and I am worried I am damaging her forever by my inability to parent her well, and YEAH, those days are not good. Those days make me hate myself, if I'm being honest. Heavy but true. On those days, she tries my every nerve and ounce of patience. I am not proud, but it is hard. Those days are so so hard.

(I'm not having one of those days now, so I can say in this moment that indeed they are just days. "It's just one day! A bad day! It won't determine her forever future!" Or so Another Nathan tells me ad nauseum. But when I am having one of those days, I really do believe that the bad day is my whole life and even though it sounds melodramatic and exaggerated, I know at least twelve of you are out there nodding in agreement, because it is a real thing. Anyway. Today is not one of those days.)

Do y'all read Modg? (You should.) Here's what she says about her son: "he is what the hippies call spirited. He's what I call a temporary pain in my ass. I love my ass pain more than glitter rainbows, but it doesn't make it hurt my ass any less right now."

Yes, that. THAT. Anneliese is a glitter rainbow pain in my ass.

The pain part comes with her age (I need to keep telling myself this). But the glitter rainbow? That's all her.

She sings along to the radio until she's tired of singing and just wants to listen, and asks for the "plassical" songs, which (according to her) is always a trumpet because of course it's... a trumpet. When it's not loud enough, she asks to turn it a little bit upper.

She calls panties unders. She calls ketchup chetchup, and no one better correct her. When she wants to know what someone else is eating (which is all the time, the world does not snack unless Anneliese snacks with them) she asks what're you chewin' on?

She invented maybe the world's next best word: forleft. Like forgetting something not that you do, but forgot a thing. You forgot it, and left it, you forleft it. (She's a genius, is what I'm saying. Feel free to add this to your everyday lexicon. We have.)

When Nathan finally convinced her to pronounce it three instead of free, she started correcting everyone else who happens to say the word free WHICH IS ALSO A WORD, ANNELIESE. No. Nope. "You say it three, Daddy, hear this: tthhhhreeee."

She calls velcro becker-o, as in she needs to becker-o her shoes, or she needs my help to becker-o her baby doll's PJ's back onto the baby doll. (Infinity times.) (After bedtime.) (I digress.)

When we talk about our family, she loves to tell me that Nathan is the oldest baby, and Charlotte is the youngest baby, and that she is the middlest baby. Yes, Anneliese. Yes you are. The very middlest.

And for the pot of gold at the end of the glitter rainbow, she has proclaimed today that she is half and a three years old. HALF AND A THREE. I tell you in all seriousness: nothing has ever been cuter than that, in the history of things and cuteness.

To celebrate her half-birthday, I took her to get a pedicure with me. (She called it the paint store, because everything she is doing today is adorable, apparently.) She picked the color (hot pink) (obvs) and we got matching toes. She got some polka dots too.

She was an angel and grinned the whole time and had the grandmotherly nail ladies fawning over her. I cannot imagine a better $7 date with a preschooler than some professional toenail painting (well, I got a real pedi. whatevs). But it's one of the sweetest things I have ever done with her, honestly.

So right now I am totally believing that whole turned a corner thing. Pain in the ass glitter rainbow, now with toenail polka dots.

Another Little Tiger

And now, for our newest installation of "child who never met a hat she didn't like," just in case you needed a bright-eyed tiger to make your day a little sweeter, YOU'RE WELCOME.

your daily Charlotte

(Note to self: she looks good in orange but we definitely need to own more Furman shirts. Get on that, self.)

Dino Dig: A Story in Tweets

If you're not hanging out with me on twitter (I'm very busy over there, being slack at blogging) then you're missing out on gems of adorable stories like this one:
_____

@ebum1101 5:48pm Nathan just found a flat rock in the yard and is insisting it's part of the head of a paralophosaurus.

@ebum1101 5:49pm (I cannot tell if he's pretending or convinced. Either way, his sisters are now searching for the rest of the bones to assemble the fossil.)

@ebum1101 5:55pm Excavating that fossil LIKE A BOSS.

@ebum1101 5:58pm He doesn't have any brushes so he's scraping with a piece of mulch. As one does, when one finds a paralophosaurus in the front yard.

@ebum1101 6:44pm (I probably didn't have to google it to see if that was even a real dinosaur.) (Ahem.)

@ebum1101 10:54pm Just went to kiss my sleeping babies and saw that Nathan is sleeping with that rock* he dug up yesterday. *part of a paralophosaurus fossil

@ebum1101 10:55pm Sleeping with it. In his bed. On his pillow. A ROCK.

_____

So the moral of the story is, be on twitter or you might miss the day when we really do find a dinosaur skeleton.

Cold Holden Beach: the How-To Guide

We spent our annual Bumgarner spring break at Holden Beach again this year, and since Easter was so early (or since spring weather is just pissing me off these days, one of those) it was unseasonably cold.

If you're ever wondering what to do with a big group (including four small children) at the beach for a week when it's too cold to be at the beach, I have a practical how-to list of ideas:

1.) Bundle up (ish) and play outside anyway.

2.) Snuggle with your adorable nephew.

3.) Accidentally catch a stingray. (!!!)

4.) Learn to share a bed with your favorite sibling.

5.) Read a lot of books. Send a few emails. Make a few phone calls.

6.) Have a family dinner, then eat leftover ham all week mmmmm.

7.) Make cupcakes in ice cream cones.

8.) Bond with your daddy.

9.) Have your sister organize an egg hunt. (Bonus: have her fill some of the eggs with wiggly rubber frogs which will accidentally terrify your middle child and have probably traumatize her enough to never open another easter egg again in her life, like ever.

10.) Turn on your best smile, and the chilly beach will smile with you. True story.

Thanks as always for our fun week, Dad!!!

Every Parent's Road Trip Dream

If you are a parent on a road trip, there is no better sight than this.

For the win.