Monkey House

Anyone with small children will tell you that staying home for too long on any given day can be a recipe for utter mania. I'm trying to slow down, though -- or maybe it's not so much about slowing down and more about cramming less in because let's face it, things aren't moving at the speed of light these days (unless it's Jack finding some chance to run into the street. That happens fast). Before we depart for our holiday excursion to the exotic east (coast), however, I'm trying to be at peace with staying put and having friends come over and play so that we can enjoy our tree and our decorations and just each other. Admittedly, my local coffee place is also closed for renovations, which may have something to do with this as well. Nonetheless, we are soaking up our little bungalow, and I do rather like it. I have no pictures of this enjoyment, of course, because any time I pick up my camera lately (or the phone), the howler monkeys come out and it's at that moment that Jack bonks Molly over the head (yep, still happening because someone is still screeching, which just delights the offender to no end) or she decides he is doing something dangerous (there's a legit 50/50 chance on that one) and must tell me about it pronto and at the top of her lungs. Those do not make for attractive pictures. Instead, you all must suffer through more outside photos. Some of these are a month old from my mom's visit out here and some are to prove to my kids that I marched them outside for fresh air no matter how chilly Jack said he was when I gently nudged them out on the porch. Inside, outside -- it's all monkey business.

I lied, I do have a picture of what happens when we stay indoors...