Painting Me A Smile

What do you do when you find an activity that your three year old will do for hours (and I'm not exaggerating, HOURS)? You embrace it, you love it, you make it your new best friend. What if this activity is messy, potentially ruinous to furniture and rugs, and produces copious amounts of output? You don't care -- you embrace it, you love it, you make it your new best friend... and you buy picture frames because everyone is getting a piece of the action for Christmas this year (kidding...).

Molly has been sort of bummed about being left at school or with a babysitter lately so in an effort to put the bright and sunny bounce in her step and smile on her face, we've been painting... and painting and painting and painting. And, really, she will finger paint, watercolor paint, go back to finger painting, go back to watercolors, do some mixed media, for a seemingly endless amount of time. It's a little messy, sure, but it makes her so happy that it really is worth it.

Since I've got a willing partner in crafty crime, we decided to make big easter eggs last week (on one day... I didn't need thousands). She couldn't have been happier (or more intense).

I must have many papers in front of me and I will use them all. And Jack's too.

I am just getting started. 

Go away now, I'm hard at work.

This is okay, right? (Ed. note: heck yes! Keeping finger paint on the hands only is a relatively new thing for Molly. I'm not saying a word).

If I move my hand really fast, I make swirling colors. 

And what of the other munchkin? Well, based on the last time I put up finger painting pictures, you can probably imagine how this scenario goes...

Yes, this is fun.

Weird texture but I'll give it a shot...

Okay, I'm done...

Or am I?

More, please...

So that I commence with nefarious activities.

Hmmm... it seems to have gotten everywhere.

Guilty as charged.

Buddha Belly

Liz, very thoughtfully, recently passed along one of Adam's old shirts for Jack to enjoy. Now, I know kid clothing sizes can be completely unreliable, but one might think that an 18 month-sized shirt might sorta, kinda fit most kids approaching their 18 month birthdays. Now, one could also argue that it's about time that midriff shirts, usually the province of young ladies who perhaps mistakenly think they up their cool quotient or '80s fashion victims, became acceptable for young men but I'm betting that no one really wants to go there. So, alas, this adorable shirt gets folded up after one wearing and put on the shelf (or in the mail) to be loved in memory only (probably safer to think of Adam wearing it) despite enjoying the sentiment that it conveys for these two rascally boys. 

peek-a-boo belly

really mom? 

 maybe it's just time for a total closet overhaul...

Bugging Out

I've been barfed on about eleven times too many in the last three days so I'm still sorting through laundry and too few pictures from our trip east to post much. Nonetheless, here's what I am sure of... as crazy as it sounds, a sick toddler is actually not so bad to have on a flight provided a) he's mostly done upchucking by the time you board and b) he sleeps for much of the trip. John learned the hard way that being a parent and being sick is way harder than having sick kid. Molly has asked every question known to man about being sick and who kept eating these stomach bugs...

Anyway, we are on the mend (well, yours truly didn't need to mend because I am currently super immuno-mom) and life is returning to it's norma level of nuttiness. In the meantime, speaking of crazy...

Dear Mom, you may want to call Crazy Town because a) I am a bruiser, b) I don't like wearing clothes, and c) I need to pick out my own footwear and it looks fabulous.

When I told Molly that we had to tame the beast (otherwise called her hair) for soccer, she took matters into her own hands... I guess this counts. 

Oh, The Places We'll Go

Just in case you have been wondering if we've lost our wandering feet, fear not, we haven't. The rain really isn't that bad here, although there has been plenty of it, and even when it's present, it's not generally a huge deterrent for me.... it's just a muddier adventure. While we haven't done anything wild and crazy lately (for approximately three yeas and 10 months, really), we've been back out exploring the city and surrounding areas... there is just a bit more to do here than in Penticton. When you have two small busy bodies plus one mom who gets really annoyed at being home too much (which has recently gotten me into trouble... must come home when little people are tired and not try to squeeze in anything else) plus one dad who is emerging from the vortex of a product launch, it's really best to be out and about. 

Exploring the other pond (aka as the Pacific Ocean). Jack and Molly both got to dip their (booted) tootsies in  the waters of the great northwest. I don't think they ever got wet when we were in Vancouver so this really was their first taste of the big Pacific drink. It was a chilly day, yes, but really it was the wind that was the big story. 

No "puddle" can go unstomped.

Really great course... or some wishful thinking. 

I think we were going to the "Mequarium" this day. We could have probably stopped our trip at this giant set of  steps and called it a successful day. 

Scooting here, there, and everywhere.

Singing in the stroller...

 Going to the St. Patty's Day parade, complete with DeLorean enthusiasts (so weird)... 

and lots of bands. It poured, it didn't matter.

More puddle stomping... lots of puddle stomping...

and, of course, looking out for airplanes...

and more airplanes (like mother like sister like brother -- we all love to have our pictures taken with our eyes closed). 

Sometimes we add mud stomping into the equation, just to mix it up a bit.

We did some spring skiing (rather, Molly and John did while Jack and I wrested strange snow creatures into submission).

Molly got to ride the real lift this trip (no way in heck that I was attempting that so John did the honors).

and got her snow legs under her.

Jack is ready to shred some freshies next year. 

When the weather did force us inside, we checked out the airplanes at the Museum of Flight. 

and paid homage to our recently departed host country. 

We took Nana's tip and checked out the tulip festival up north a little ways. It would have been great had there been tulips (don't be fooled by this display)...

although the daffodils treated us well...

as did the ducks...

I'm pretty sure John and Molly were psyched by my repeated oohing and aahing over the huge fields of daffodils.

Finally, when all else is quiet, there is always the playground.