Bragging moment! I'm allowed.......I'm the Mum.

We've started a new adventure in this household. It is called following this Native to wrestling meets, cheering and making fools of ourselves, and when it is all over realizing that I must be clenching my jaw the entire time because it is so sore and my whole body is shaking. INTENSE doesn't even cut it!



This Native (the one in the blue BYU shirt) came to The SM and I and told us he wanted to try his hand at wrastlin'. Beings as The SM was a wrastler in his day I knew I didn't stand a chance in the world from keeping my little baby boy out of the arena!

Two weekends ago we took this Native and headed down south to a tournament. I had noooo idea what we were in for. As we pulled up to the high school and saw the entire parking lot filled with cars this Native said, "oh boy". I assured him all of those cars couldn't possibly be for the tournament. There must be a basketball game or volleyball game.......cricket? Perhaps an under water basket weaving competition but definitely not there for wrastlin'.

I've a lot to learn. Rule number one: When going to a wrastlin' tournament.....don't bring the younger Native's. Sitting on their bahooties in the bleachers for four hours gets very very very boring. Unless their older brother is out on the mat wrastlin' and then it gets exciting for about five minutes. Then you are back to picking lint out of your belly button.

When it is all over and your son has wrastled five matches you take photos of him waiting with his coach and The SM to find out where he placed in the tournament.



And you hear your sons name announced and he is given a medal.........



Which he places around his neck.......



And then you make him stand there with his coach while you take pictures of him cuz you are so stinkin' proud.

This Native has never wrastled before, this was his first tournament, (he'd wrastled in one small meet previous to this) and he got the silver!

I taught him all those moves by the way.......just don't tell his coach. I wouldn't want his coach out of a job.

I am thankful for.....

a lot of things but today I want to talk about The SM. He says he wishes I'd quit talking about him on my blog because it embarrasses him. Me? Embarrass someone? Naw!

Seventeen and a half years ago The SM was hit in the head really hard. The end result....he married me. I'd apologize but it was the only way I could get him to look in my direction! While he was still loopy and not seeing right I made him promise to marry me. True story!

Soon there after, the first Native was on the way and so was everything I tried to eat. On the way up. Seven Natives later and finally good health!

Well, things don't always turn out like we plan and once again, The SM has stepped up to the plate. The SM has never been one to come home, put up his feet while grabbing the remote, and ask what is for dinner. He walks in, grabs me for a kiss, rolls up his sleeves, and dives in helping where ever help is needed. Dinner, diaper changing, baby feedings, The Native's homework, etc.

Over the past year I have watched this man that I am so in love with it should be illegal take on not only the role of daddy but also mommy, breadwinner, and continue in his church callings. The load he carries on his big broad shoulders is immense and not once has he complained.

When he is weary at the end of the day many times he has carried me up to bed, tucking me in, and then rubs my feet with lotion. I love having my feet rubbed.......and then he goes to his computer and continues to put in hours and hours researching trying to find a cure for WNV.

Sigh.....what can I say? The man is sexy. Very very sexy and I love him and am thankful for him.

Tomorrow is Thanksgiving. Happy Thanksgiving to all! What are you thankful for?

Crackpot Tuesdays

Photo by Taste of Home


Levi was supposed to pick the crackpot meal. I say supposed because it went something like this:

(The Mum places the cookbooks before Levi)

Mum: Levi what do you want for dinner?

(Levi starts flipping through the colored photos)

Levi: I want this one and this one and this one and this one and this one and this one and this one and this one and this one and this one and this one and this one....

Mum: Levi you have to pick just one!

Levi: And this one and this one and this one and this one and this one......

Mum: Levi, you like lasagna. How about this lasagna one?

Levi: I like lasagna and this one and this one and this one and this one and this one and this one.

Mum: Levi, how about this one with rice? You really like rice.

Levi: I like rice and this one and this one and this one....

What's a Mum to do? I chose for him. I found a recipe that I had all of the ingredients for and didn't have to haul my lazy bahootie off to the grocery store. I chose Chicken a La King. With Levi in mind of course.....because he likes rice and this one and this one and this one.......

Our verdict? I think I put too much Tabasco sauce in The Native's bottles when they were babies. We thought it was bland. Needs more spicing up so we gave it three stars. Easily could be four stars with more salt and cayenne pepper. Also, I would suggest putting the gr. peppers in with the frozen peas at the end unless you like slimy soggy peppers. If you do, then feel free to put them in in the beginning like the recipe says. It's your crackpot! Also, I didn't have just frozen peas. I had frozen peas and carrots which actually turned out nice since I didn't have any pimientos in my pantry.....who does? I didn't know that people actually bought and put those things in their food until about a year ago. I thought when green olives were born they had a red gizzard that when passed around at Thanksgiving were pulled out of the gr. olive and flicked at each other....

He's eleven!!

This Native turned eleven last week! Being the totally cool rad parents that we are, we haven't celebrated yet BUT, Mr. M got a cool new uniform cuz he's hit A major milestone. He's no longer a cub. He has graduated from the blue uniform to the manly khaki.



Every totally cool scouter needs a Boy Scout baseball cap with LED lights!!




He is now a full fledged Boy Scout.....heaven help me.....



Mr. M received his Arrow of Light, walked across the bridge from Cubs into Scouts, and earned all TWENTY of his Webelos pins. Guess what? Wanna know what Webelos stands for? We Be Loyal Scouts. I've been in this program waaaay too long and have how many more to go?



So, we haven't actually gotten to the celebrating part yet...that happens later this week but we did ask Mr. M what he wanted for dinner and he said corn dogs. I am soooo surprised...... I'm way cool with that being the totally hipster mom that I am so I was ready to go out and buy a box of ridiculously healthy frozen corn dogs but noooooo! Not in this house!




The SM took the reigns and said if Mr. M wanted corn dogs we were going to do it Rubow style. Bigger, badder, better. It's a guy thing. Home made, deep fried, jumbo hot dogs in the center, corn dogs! As you can see, Mr. M was thrilled..

Oh and P.S. Mr. M? Your dad would like his sun glasses back.....

I wanna love song for me!

As I have stated before, when I am driving in the car with The Natives we like to crank the music and belt along. It isn't pretty but it is what we do. We love and sing all sorts of genres and it's great! That is.....until lately. I've been really getting bugged. I have noticed that every love song out follows the same theme.

Blue eyes.....blond or red hair. I've even heard songs about green eyes! Have you EVER heard a song about the color of cow pie eyes and stringy brown hair? Neither have I!

What pray tell, is wrong with eyes the color of cow patties and hair that has sticky syrup in it left over from the hug that was given by a little Native? HUH? And while I'm on this subject......how come no one ever writes songs about the way a mother moves after she's birthed a gazillion gremlins.....or the way her behind has epileptic fits as she walks down the street! Or a belly button that used to be an inny but is now a stretchy?

This is love baby AND IT'S SEXY! Sniff!

Now if you'll excuse me, I need to go and put some heat on my neck because I took a walk this morning and the after shocks from my jiggling backside sent seismic activity up my back and dislocated my neck!

Knitting for dummies......101

It's done! It is finally done! I made a sweater and you wanna know what? It actually turned out so cool and it fit and I was so proud of it and one sleeve wasn't longer than the other and I was able to get the ends of the sleeves to match in color along with the ends of the sweater and........



Question: How come sheep get wet all of the time and they don't shrink?



Cuz now my sweater.....is now my daughters.........

New use for knitting needles! They make great kindling.......

Levi. A show that will melt your heart

What do you get when you mix someone really talented, who has a gift, an eye behind a lens that can capture something beautiful, and a little boy named Levi?



If you go here to this site you can see the images even better.

Last Saturday Mr.Z came and spent several hours photographing Levi as Levi worked and played. Levi spent a good hour out in the elements raking leaves and moving them from one side of the yard to the other on his wagon that has seen better days. Even when the snows started to come sideways at us Levi kept moving leaves and Mr.Z behind his camera captured it all.

Mr. Z as you recall from this post and this news article isn't just an awesome school teacher, he is also a photographer and as you can see....a very talented photographer who was a really good sport on Saturday.

Thanks Mr. Z for capturing "Levi".

Crackpot Tuesdays and Reflections

Photo by Taste of Home


This week was my baby girls turn to choose the crackpot meal and she chose, "Zippy Steak Chili".

From the moment I gave birth to The Natives I was shoving Tabasco sauce down their throats. If you haven't done the same or something similar this may be a bit zippy for you, your kids, your grandma, your grandma's cat....

Easily remedied.....cut back on the spicy ingredients. As for chili starter......what in tarnation is that? I just added two cans of chili.......

The family gave this 4 stars. For chili they thought it was pretty darn good and I had to agree with them.



I don't know about you but chili goes with cornbread like pizza goes with root beer......can't have one with out the other. I mean you can.....but you're missing out on the full experience. I'm not a fan of dry crumbly cornbread so I like The SM's aunts recipe that we tweaked a bit.

Aunt Gail's Cornbread

1 C. butter (trust me, it's worth it)
1 2/3 C. sugar (trust me, this too is worth it)
4 eggs (See? It gets healthy)
2 C. buttermilk
1 tsp. baking soda
1 C. cornmeal
3 C. flour
1 tsp. salt

Melt butter, add and stir in rest of ingred. stirring well. Bake in greased 9x13 for 30-40 min. at 375 in a metal pan, 350 in a glass pan. (We add a can of creamed corn and a can of diced gr. chili's.) (I didn't add the gr. chili's yesterday cuz I didn't want to. I'm allowed to do that every once in awhile...leave out an ingredient just cuz.)



Last week it was Reflections and Mr. M and Miss K wanted to participate. Miss K entered a painting and a musical piece on the piano. She won a ribbon for her painting and a trophy for her musical piece. The theme for this year was, "Beauty is..." Miss K painted a horse because she feels that beauty is the life of a horse and being a part of that life. Watching a horse being born, watching the horse grow, training the horse, and spending your life with your horse. Her musical piece had to do with the sound of horses hooves when they are galloping. Miss K said she loves the sound of horses galloping.



Mr. M entered photography. Mr. M chose "Beauty is.......in the eye of the beholder". He went around taking photos of eyes. The smart little stinker then uploaded his photos, cut and pasted them, and then printed them. I still can't do that! Photo editing......pfffft. What's that?

We pretty much think these two rock for doing so well in Reflections.

No more spoons today.

Ive used up all of my spoons today.....nothing more to give.......too tired to write.......maybe tomorrow........

Some photos speak for themselves.

I have nothing to say......

The Sense of Sound

Last night as I turned out the light, snuggled under my down comforter, and prepared to slide into a land of peaceful slumber I was jolted by the sound of sirens. Lots of sirens and it reminded me of something I'd written in my journal awhile ago on an evening much like last night. A night full of sirens.

The five senses are amazing. Each one can trigger a memory and transport you back to a moment you'd thought you'd forgotten. A taste, a touch, a sound, a smell.....All can bring back a vivid recollection and it is as if you were transported back in time reliving that experience again.

The other night I was driving my oldest son to spend the evening at a friends house. We had the windows down and were belting out the words to the song playing on the radio. I am grateful that my son has great taste in music and likes the same songs that I do. Everyday as I drive him to and from school we belt out the words to whatever song is on the radio. A time I cherish.

Last Friday evening was no different and as we were driving along the back roads of town another sound started to press its way into our senses. A sound that made us immediately tun off the radio so we could see where it was coming from and if we needed to get out of the way, a siren. A screaming message that help was on the way to who ever was in trauma waiting, listening for that sound that never gets there fast enough even if the ambulance is just around the corner from where you live. A sound that means hope.

Every time I hear a siren, and I do often since we live a block away from the fire station, I say a prayer. A prayer for those who are in trauma waiting for the piercing sound that means help is on the way.

I know what it is like feeling helpless watching your baby or loved one struggling. There is nothing you can do. So you wait. You wait for the sound of a miracle.

I hate sirens. I hate what they mean and yet it is the very sound you want to hear desperately and every fiber of you strains to hear when there is trauma.

I am grateful to the people behind the sirens. I'm grateful for their willingness to drop everything and come to all of our aid and when they come in..it isn't like in the movies. They come in quietly and there is a sense of reassuring calm as they assess the situation.

So next time you hear a siren, take a moment and offer up a quick prayer of comfort to those who are waiting and to those who are coming to offer aid.

Catalog Boy.

You know the holidays are upon us when every day your mailbox is filled with these. Don't get me wrong. I love catalogs and being a stay at home mom that doesn't particularly like to drag The Natives all over town shopping, catalogs are fabulous!

At least I thought they were...... until this holiday season. My baby has been hoarding them all, following me around non stop, showing me each and every item that he wants.



This morning it was this lovely car. He says both he and Levi want it but that only "he" can drive. Not Levi.......and they don't want the girl ones. "It hasta be dis one". The boy one. When I asked him why Levi couldn't drive and only he could he said because he needs to drive. End of discussion!

When the catalogs first started coming in my baby wanted me to magically make all of the items he wanted to just appear. I fall back on the only weapon I can at this time.........Santa Claus. "We'll have to ask Santa Claus" so now when my baby shows me all of the stuff he wants, he wants me to make sure and let Santa know. I'm afraid he is going to be one disappointed boy when Christmas comes and the tree isn't loaded with all of his catalog picks. It'll serve him right. He's on my naughty list right now. The other day I was in the bathroom putting my face on. He walked in and said:

Baby: What is that?
Me: Make up.
Baby: What you doing?
Me: Trying to make myself look presentable. Is it working?
Baby: No

I don't care if he is the baby......he's getting coal in his stocking!

Crackpot Tuesdays

Mr. M has been trying to decide what to pick that is a crackpot dinner for WEEKS! He is by far my pickiest eater. That boy would come to me over and over telling me he'd finally found something that looked edible to him only to have me start laughing and tell him to try again.......99.9% of his selections were desserts.

Now, you know me. I'm cool with dessert for dinner but if all I posted were crackpot desserts then you'd all be turning me into the children's protective services so I have to make it appear that I am making The Natives well rounded wholesome meals.


Photo by Taste of Home


Mr. M was beginning to think he'd never find a main dish that didn't look completely disgusting. After the desserts he wandered into the side dishes. That is when we compromised. He found Funeral Potatoes and I didn't have the heart to turn him down yet again so I told him we'd do the funeral potatoes if he'd try one more time to find a main dish. Side note, funeral potatoes. Are LDS the only ones to serve these at a funeral? If this is the case would y'all do me a huge favor? I like cheesy potatoes and all.....but when I die forgo the ham and cheesy potatoes. I want a huge dessert bar full of chocolate! Thank you. Now.......moving on....Well not moving on as in moving "on"....just moving onto the next paragraph......


Photo by Taste of Home

Mr. M looked through all of the photos and found a meat entree that looked to be about the plainest he could possibly find. No green stuff! He chose: Cranberry Pork Roast When I served it for dinner with gravy, Mr. M wanted to know where that came from because he didn't see it in the photo! He was a good sport and tried it and here is our review:

I blew it. The jury is still out and we have to try it again to give it a fair trial. At this point the highest was three stars. The gravy tasted like syrup. Syrup on meat......not our favorite.

When I was making the roast which by the way.......the meat was fabulous. Very tender, it didn't cross my mind when the recipe called for cranberry juice that cranberry juice mixed with other juices would be sickeningly sweet! Ever since my kidneys decided to throw a tantrum a few weeks ago I've been getting acquainted with cranberry juice. One problem. Cranberry juice by itself is enough to turn your mouth inside out so I get the mixed stuff. Cran-grape, cran-apple, cran-chocolate......kidding on the last.....do they make that mix? Because I'd buy it!

So, the recipe calls for cranberry juice and I pour in my sickeningly sweet cran-mix and don't think twice about it......until later when we're all having syrup on our meat.

Another side note. The recipe calls for corn starch to thicken the gravy. I'm not a corn starch fan and I remembered why last night. I prefer flour for thickening gravies. Last night I used corn starch and BLECK! I can taste it and I can feel a grainy cornstarch texture on my tongue as I'm eating.

There you have it. Our not fair trial on the poor cran. pork roast. I dare say with the reviews it got on Taste of Home all being 5 stars that we need to try it again.......this time with naked cranberry juice and flour for a thickener.....

A very positive note for this recipe. It was easy peasy and FAST. I like that. A lot!

If at first you don't succeed........throw up your hands and get help!

Remember this project?



It's a sweater remember? Ya well. I've been knitting along in quite a frenzy and would you believe? It is actually starting to look like a sweater!



Thanks to the help from the ladies at Heindselman's. They seriously have the patience of Job. They have to because they keep helping me on my projects! Like this sweater....

The other day I went into the shop. I'd gotten to the place where I was supposed to attach the sleeves to my sweater and I just knew I was going to make a huge mess of things so I got off my lazy bahootie and went and asked for help. I knew if I didn't...I wouldn't be able to put my sweater on because I'd have attached a sleeve to the neck and one to the bottom.....or there abouts.



Actually, I'm an expert knitter but I really don't like to brag and I feel real sorry for the ladies at Heindselman's so I go in every once in awhile and give them something to laugh at. I pretend to be inept.....ya. That's it. I pretend cuz I want them to feel good about what they do.......I'm nice that way. I figure I'll go in about twenty more times before I finish this sweater...just to be nice.

This blogger describes the experience well when you go to Heinselman's.

Can ya? Can ya do it? I dare ya!

Click here to see this poster better.

The challenge is on folks. Will you take it? Just who is this teachinfourth guy? Well he just happens to be a fifth grade teacher that one of The Natives gets to associate with EVERY DAY! And thinks is theeee coolest teacher EVER! "Mr. Z totally rocks the planet mom"!

So, since Mr.Z is da bomb we're taking on this challenge and we wanna see if you're up to it too. Can ya? Huh? Can ya? I dare ya! We wanna see what kind of stuffin' your made of! Beings as it is the month of giving thanks and stuffing ourselves and all........You do stuff yourselves right....I'm not the only one........never mind. Don't answer that. Just take the challenge if you're "tuff e nuff"!

For a friend......

The sun will come up....



There's always tomorrow.

Hoppin' to it.

When I told my baby girl to practice her piano and to "hop to it"....




I should have been more specific.........

You can be anything/anyone in your imagination.

When I was a young little snot nosed whippersnapper growing up in the boonies with out a television, my siblings and I would have to come up with our own entertainment. Sundays were the hardest. Lots of things that we would normally do through out the week were deemed not appropriate for Sunday activities.

That is until I became a teenager. The rule was, anything we couldn't do in a dress we shouldn't do on Sunday. I figured out that one could do pretty much anything in a dress. Especially if ones mum wasn't watching and you got rid of the evidence before entering the house. (Mud clear up to your knees from sloshing around in the pond...etc.)

Before I became an even bigger snot nosed whippersnapper as a teenager Sunday afternoons were spent in the house for the most part and the imaginations rolled. One of my favorite games to play was make believe church. Why after sitting for three hours in church I'd want to come home and play church some more is beyond me but play church we did!

I would set up my mothers ironing board as my "podium" and cover it in all of the church books and magazines I could find along with our "Children's Songbook". I would then proceed in my most nasally voice welcoming all to primary. I had a broken antenna from an old radio that worked great as a wand for leading the music. Many a speech or song of mine would be interrupted as I would rap that wand against the ironing board disciplining some way ward child. Sometimes that child was really naughty and I would take them by the ear whisking them out into the hall where I would ask them if I needed to go and get their parents!

Then I would calmly walk back behind the ironing board and once again in my nasally voice, "nooooow childreeeen".......continue on with my sermon.



I suppose that is why when I caught these two little whippersnappers in a world of make believe I was delighted as memories of my own child hood came flooding back and I had to grab my camera.

I'm dun!

Photo from mudranch.com

Why is it as I am laying in bed trying to go to sleep that I do my most creative thinking? Stories to tell on my blog and I always think I'll remember them the next day to post but morning comes.......and I don't remember a single word.

I know, put a notebook by my bed.....record my thoughts.......I'm too tired.

Last night was no different. As I was on the edge of slipping off into the abyss where dreams become real my mind started to write a story. I told myself that I should probably write it down but it was already late and when it comes to beauty sleep I need more and more as my face continues to slip further south along with everything else attached to me. It's hard wearing an anklet when your knees are now where your ankles used to be and waxing my mustache is actually waxing my eyebrows that have become a uni brow on my upper lip.

Is there such a thing as growing old gracefully? Truly? Because the older I get the less grace I have.

I have this ongoing fight with myself. Grey hair. I started going grey when I was in high school. Ya, I know. Totally not fair. Back then I didn't really think it was that big of a deal. I'd see one, or my "friends" would point one out two seconds after feeling the needle sharp pain of having a hair snatched from your scalp and dangled in front of your eyes as proof that what they'd just done to you was justified. I continued yanking out the grey hairs as they'd come but eventually it got to the point where a decision had to be made. To be bald or dye the hair....THAT my friends is the ultimate question. One of the questions anyway that plagues me once a month.


Photo from mudranch.com

The ultimate question now, as I am in need of a major hair dye again is I am once again sporting a dun stripe down the middle of my head. When am I allowed to say, "You know what? I've had a gargantuan amount of kids, I'm no longer in my twenties, I am a mum of teenagers, when have I earned my rightful place to stop worrying about dying my hair"? The problem with letting the hair go grey and this is just strictly my opinion by the way......is that long grey hair on most women doesn't work. The hair would have to be whacked off. If I'm gonna do it....I'm gonna do it good. Short spiky grey hair!

This is the ultimate question I am plagued with these days.....that and did I leave my memory in the bathroom, at the knitting store I went to yesterday, or the fridge along with my car keys..........

Crackpot Tuesdays

Photo by Taste of Home


Here it is folks. Crackpot Tuesday and the verdict is in but first.......the recipe. Mr. C chose: Saucy Italian Roast. Another meal I was more than thrilled to make as it is only 9 ingredients. Less if your family is like mine and mushrooms are a fungus that remain outside growing on cool moss covered stumps deep within enchanted forests.

The family gave this four and a half stars. Not surprised as the gal who submitted this recipe to Taste of Home is from Montana. I need not say anything more.....

I had several epiphanies this past weekend and have come to the conclusion that I am

A) a donkey and
B) a donkey on crack





I can explain. Have you ever worked with horses? Let's start in the round pen. When you have a young colt and are starting to work with it you start in the round pen if you have one. It's a controlled environment but if you have a horse that decides to push the boundaries like I did.....then you have to get resourceful and put electric fencing around the top of the round pen to keep the "mustang" from thinking it can jump over the top! Now take that same "mustang" and watch how every time you bring it into the round pen it has to check to see if that electrical fencing is still juiced up. Once it gets reacquainted with the "hot" fence it respects it and keeps it distance but danged if it doesn't have to check each and every time it comes into the round pen!



Now, take me.....the donkey on crack. I have a few good days. I'm feeling my oats and wowza I feel good! Du na na na na na na na, like the way that I shouuu-uuuld. Hey! Maybe that electrical fencing (we'll call West Nile) is not in place! Maybe, just maybe I'll test the boundaries and go flying over that fence that has been keeping me penned in. I run round and round and round and then.......I take a flying leap! Only to find myself sitting on my hiney in the mud wondering how in the heck I got there cuz I WAS FEELING GOOD! And dang.....that fence is still there.



Which brings me to my next ah HA moment. The Master. The Trainer. He keeps yanking me back! Let's go from the round pen to the trail. You don't want to keep a young colt in the round pen. They get bored so you give them a little change in scenery. You let them go out and about a bit but you never just give them their head. You are always giving them a task. You want them to think..not react. Any horse if you don't give them a task on the trail, their mind will start to wander and they stop using the thinking side of their brain and decide that everything looks like it is a lion ready to attack and so they spook easier or they see greener pastures and want to go and munch. To keep them focused on you, the master or trainer, you give them a task to do and then you let them walk for a bit "on their own" down the trail and then you call their attention back to you and you give them another task.



So, back to The Master. He lets me walk along the trail for a bit but then my mind starts to wander and I see some grass off in the distance that looks a lot like chocolate which I'm addicted to and I take off crashing through the bushes and trees and once again.......The Master has to yank me back to the trail. If I'd just learn to put blinders on and look straight forward I wouldn't stumble so much....but alas.......I'm a donkey.......on crack!

As if having me for their mum isn't repulsive enough......

I had to go and make food inspired from "Great Expectations".



The older Natives being oh so mature and beyond the childish tradition of walking up to someones house and begging for candy decided they'd rather invite their friends over and spend the evening playing foosball and watching a history movie. "Monty Python and the Holy Grail".........



Earlier in the day as I was trying to get ready and doing a lousy job of frosting this rats tail and feet my neighbor Kathy VanWagoner stopped by and I shoved the spatula in her hand and told her to fix it for me. Me and frosting a cake go hand in hand about as well as a donkey trying to learn ballet. Too many feet....or thumbs.....it doesn't work.



The SM took over after the pink was done and created this masterpiece. Actually, he formed the rat for me too cuz..ya know......donkey/ballet.



He also frosted this mummy for me cuz....ya........



My favorite master piece was this lovely specimen and watching The Natives and their friends peel the meat off the skull to put on their sandwiches. VILE!

Oh, and by the way.......just so you know. If you make red jello brains like I did......wait until you serve it to add the gummy worms. Apparently, gummy worms dissolve into a rubbery non chewable mess on the bottom of your bowl if you don't....



While the older Natives were being "mature" The SM took the little Natives out Trick or Treating while I stayed and chaperoned being the by far more responsible and mature adult.

My baby girls friend went with. She is Ginny Weasley, my baby girl is a COMMANDER. I was told specifically she was not a tough fighting dude, she was a COMMANDER, Levi was Charmander (Poke'mon), and my baby was a dragon.



This Native took the absolute longest and time coming up with his costume and it had to be just so! He was a Jawa.

When The Natives came home with their loot, Mr. T (the second oldest) decided being mature and staying home isn't worth it and has declared next year that he will in the kindness and goodness of his heart take his younger siblings out Trick or Treating.......