I Wasn't Ready For This

Note:  I had to keep editing this post due to Murray's antics. 

I wasn't ready for the "TALK."

It finally happened.  The day I was dreading.

Thank goodness I remembered the "birds and bees" discussion that my Mom had with me when I was four.

I was excited to tell Murray that my Dad's Gordon Setter, Madelyn, had her puppies tonight. This news brought on a slew of questions from little guy.

"How do the puppies get in Maddie's tummy?"

"How do they get out of her tummy?"

"But, MOM, how did they get in there?"

"How did I get in you to be born?"

Oh good grief.  I thought I could explain that God works miracles, and that Murray would accept this as a perfect answer.

Not so much.

So I launched into an explanation about how there are seeds and eggs, and they meet each other, and then a baby grows.

Wouldn't you think that this explanation would be satisfying to an almost-four year old?  I thought that it would.

It wasn't.  Not at all.

Insert DH snorting here, trying not to laugh.  We're trying to be serious because body parts are normal.

Murray said, "But how do the seeds and the eggs meet?  Okay, now I'm trying to hide my own laughter. 

So DH says, "Well, it's like a puzzle."

Huh? Again, good grief.

"Well, I said, when a Mom and a Dad love each other and are husband and wife, they share the eggs and the seeds to make a baby, and it grows in the Mom's tummy."

"But how does it get out?"

HELP HERE!!!!!! (Now DH is really snorting and laughing hysterically and I'm completely baffled).

"Well, it comes out of the Mom's vagina and the doctor helps."

"But, MOM, that's NOT what I was talking about.  I mean, HOW DOES THE SEED GET TO THE EGGS?" (Insert Craig giggling again and me throwing my hands in the air). 

"Because God said so."

It's Craig's turn next.

Date Day with Murray

Murray and I had the best day today.  We had a "date day"; we spent the entire day together. In no particular order:

1.  We slept in.
2.  We watched Curious George and ate breakfast sandwiches.
3.  We had a photo session at the park with Jennifer. Lots of giggling.
4.  We stocked up on art supplies.
5.  We shared hot chocolate.
6.  We worked on many "masterpieces".
7.  We took a nap together.
8.  We played several games of Memory and Candy Land.
9.  We set up his castle and ate homemade macaroni and cheese while we giggled some more.
10. We spent time with Aunt Maggie.
11. We sang songs and danced and read books.

Whew!  I'm exhausted.  Today was one of those days that you just know you'll never forget.

Our house is covered in finger paint and glitter glue, the dishes didn't get washed, and the laundry was ignored.  But you know, I just don't care.  When Murray woke up from his nap, snuggled in tight with me and said, "Mama, thanks SO much for staying with me today, I love you.", I realized that a dirty house is a happy home.

One more thing to remember:  When you're drinking cranberry juice and letting your child paint at the same time, be sure to keep the water glass separate from your juice. If you don't, you might accidentally drink the paint water instead of your juice and throw up.  Not that this has ever happened to me; I was just thinking about how gross that would be.


The Wild West

We spent the weekend in western North Dakota with my Dad (a.k.a. Grandpa Doug). He's lived in the town of Flasher, ND for almost 15 years. I graduated high school there - Go Bulldogs - and have a million or so memories of this amazing little town west of the Missouri.

We always have a great time when we visit my Dad, and this trip was certainly no exception. We played with his horse, took drives through the beautiful country, caught a few fish and exchanged lots of tall tales.

I want to tell you about Antelope Hills Lodge, the 1910 hotel that my Dad lives adjacent to and is helping restore. But I'm beat, so I'll leave you with a teaser: click here for a glimpse of Antelope Hills Lodge. The hotel really deserves it's own post, it's that amazing, plus, I have a ton of pictures to share.  You don't find a place like this very often. Stay tuned.

Now that my tummy is filled with homemade knoephla soup, fresh pheasant, and the absolute best breakfast (literally, I'm still craving it) that I've ever eaten - check out My Place Bar and Grill off Highway 21 if you visit - I think I'll tuck in to watch the Vikings. I leave with a few pictures of our adventures:
 Rinsing the last crop of potatoes.

 Out cold after a busy day with Grandpa Doug.

 Murray did all the work on this one.  He cast and reeled in a four pound northern pike.  If you can't tell, we're literally in the middle of a horse pasture. We even had to climb through a barb wire fence to get to the water. Note his Spider Man fishing pole on the ground.

We almost caught our limit, rather, Murray almost caught our limit.

Flasher, we'll be back soon.  You can't stop us.

I'm a Foodie

Note:  My host site went a bit crazy, so I've done a bit of editing.
If you've been following me on facebook, you'll know that I've turned into a new-age Betty Crocker-type recently.  I have no idea what's come over me, but it is what it is.  I just can't stop cooking. 

It all started with canning tomatoes.  I had so much fun and was so impressed with the results, that I decided to buy a pressure canner and try my hand at soup.  Turned out beautifully - Autumn soup and cheeseburger soup (and more canning tomatoes).  Because, who doesn't love soup? 

Two weeks ago, I made strawberry frozen dessert (even with homemade whipped cream) and Craig used my homemade salsa in a cheese dip.  Oh, and I cooked the original party (Chex) mix.

Next up, I baked a cheese souffle that was out of this world.  Even though it wasn't something that Chef Ramsey would call perfection, it turned out way better than I thought it would.

Today I made a double batch of chili and a double batch of good old-fashioned tuna noodle casserole.  I plan to keep a serving of each and freeze the rest in individual containers.

Baking, now that's another story.  Even DH won't eat my rock hard brownies.  I give him the baking credit; it doesn't matter how hard I try, I fail miserably at baking.  Even if it comes from a box.  Craig also has several dishes (his mashed potatoes rival the Top Chef, and he has mad grilling skills - charcoal only for him) that he prepares perfectly.  Sometimes, we even argue over who's going to be in the kitchen.  Only, I clean up the kitchen better than he does. 

Even Murray has the cooking bug.  He LOVES to help.

On the bright side, I have our freezer and pantry stocked, and there will be more coming.  I'm thinking more Autumn soup, a wild rice casserole, and Swedish meatballs are next on the menu.  And maybe an apple pie.  We're all about putting on winter weight.

Tomorrow night, we're having pork ribs, asparagus and brown rice.
I love food.  You're welcome to join us. 

Attack of the Pony

Murray and Mariana
Don't they make a great couple?
We spent a lovely afternoon at a local pumpkin patch yesterday with our friend Kristine, and her daughter, Mariana. It was by far the best patch we've visited. The kids had a blast with the many activities that the farm had to offer.

As you know, I love, love, love animals, so when I learned that they had a small petting zoo, I was more excited than the three year olds.  The baby goats were great fun, the cow kind of boring, the big horned sheep precious.  Next up, I visited the miniature horse.

I was gently petting this seemingly sweet guy when he started to nibble on my arm.  He got a bit agressive, so I turned around and attempted to walk away.  The darn creature put his hooves on the top of the fence and attacked.  I swear he was trying to eat me.  He bit me so hard that my skin was punctured.

Despite the fact that I can't sleep on my right side and my back is a swollen rainbow of colors, I find the whole incident pretty hilarious. Really, who gets attacked by a petting zoo pony? Clearly, I do.

This is what I felt like doing after the bite:

Whinny.  Giddy up.  Let the horse jokes begin.

Photo credit:  Kristine

The Latest

Note:  Edited. Please excuse the puncuation.  I'm still "yearning".

It's that time again, when I post some of my favorite conversations and "Murrayisms" that our dear boy has blessed us with.

Someday, I hope he'll get a kick out of these posts.  Or maybe, this will completely humiliate him and that will lead him to never having friends, and never finding his one true love, and then he'll have a complex and it will be all my fault.

Anyway. That's not going to happen for another 30 years, at least.

Overheard at bed time:  "Dad, are you wearing underwear?" "Yes, Murray, I am. Why?" Craig replies.  "Because wearing underwear makes you healthy and strong and so we should always wear them."

"Mama, how did the frog get in your froat?"  I tend to forget that he takes everything literally.

"Mom, I'm yearning!"  Learning, yes, yearning, no. And we should probably work on those "L" sounds.

"Dammit, dammit, dammit, dammit, dammit, dammit, dammit, dammit."  Whoops, that would be my fault. Could be worse, I guess.

While playing hide and seek: "Mama, I'm going to take my shoes off so that I can hide in your bed." Where, oh where, could he be?

"Mama, I have a good idea! Let's go to Target and get a disco ball, they show rainbows! Good idea, right, mama?" What the heck? When questioned, he claimed that he heard about the disco ball on Curious George.

While cooking:  "Mom, I'm taking five.""  Where did that come from?

"Hey Mom! Whet's go outside and pway.  We could walk around the bwock, right?" Sure we can.  Let's keep working on those "L's".

"How can you get mad at this face?"  Thanks, dear cousin Kevin, for that one.  He uses this phrase every time he gets in trouble and it's impossible not to laugh.

Scene: bedtime. Tucking Murray in. Murray: "Mama, I don't want you to be a teacher."  But why not?, I asked.  Murray: 'Cuz I want you to be my mommy."

Thanks for being you and "yearning" so much.  Know you are loved, sweetheart, "L's" or not.