Dinner With Friends

The Chef, the Minister, the Government Dude, the Career Woman, the Photographer, and the Frazzled Mommy-Blogger had dinner together.

The chef cooked my favorite meal as a belated birthday present, even though his own wife's birthday was just a couple of days ago and mine was weeks ago. 

And she wasn't even the slightest bit offended.

Now that's friendship.

(I'm obviously not the photographer.)

The reason for the excruciating crick in my neck:

Bode kicked me in the face 14 times last night.  I liken it to Chinese torture (I really don't even know what that means).
And to top it off he has post tonsillectomy death breath.  And lemmetelllya, you can't sleep through that stuff.
I'm pretty sure I am getting less sleep then I did when he was two-weeks old.  And I'm pretty sure that was one of the driving forces behind the decision to never have another kid.

Yet here we are.

Operation cry it out starts next week.  I guess I'll find out if that works on three-year-olds.

It's the end of an era.

Can you guess what this filthy thing is?

It's the potty chair.  

But here's the significant part: It's in the trash.

I won't even tell you what I happened to find inside it. 

 But it was old.  Really, really old.

So into the trash it went.

And I was happy.  Really, really happy.

It's been a bit of a rough morning for the Bodester

Hot pink medicine ended up just about everywhere but down his throat and his "milk won't swallow."

Poor sweet baby.

Bode's high (and the surgery went well and he's recovering nicely).

A flashback public service announcement from the 80's. 

(Those commercials used to scare me to death) 

This is my kid,

This is my kid on drugs.

Any questions?

The last day with tonsils and adenoids celebration

Boy, are we desperate for an excuse to have some fun, or what?

The last time we went to Chuck-E-Cheese Bode was't born yet 

and Mia had no idea that a few hours later she would have this little guy to deal with boss around for the rest of her life.  

Bode "played" this game 18 times.  

His reaction to a little truck moving from side to side at .05 mph is slightly troublesome considering the next couple of trips we have planned (Great Wolf and Disney).

I couldn't help but capture this moment.  Crossed legs and an art pad - it's a little glimpse into her transition from toddlerhood to girlhood.

So tomorrow Bode is having his tonsils and adenoids out and a new set of tubes put in his ears.  He is accomplishing his goal of having us meet our deductible every single year of his life.  We couldn't be more proud.

I am already starting to hyperventilate at the thought of Bode not eating or drinking until 10 AM.  And I can't even let myself think about him being in pain after surgery.  Not going to go there.

Once again, prayers for the little Bodester and prayers for his nervous Momma are much appreciated!

Saturday Night Special

Finally, a dinner we all can enjoy (just ignore Mr. Cantankerous).  

If you do nothing else, make this sauce before you die (and love Jesus, of course).  

It's so easy it should not be delicious.  

But believe me, it is.  

You will not find its red-headed step-child, Ragu, in my home ever again.

It's so good you have to strip off all your clothes and close your eyes to eat it.

Or do a chicken dance.

It won't solve all your family's problems, but it does make them a tad bit more tolerable.

Good things are happening...

At some point this weekend when I stumble into my bathroom in the middle of the night the toilet will actually be there.  And if miracles really do exist, it will actually work.

Here's to hoping I can avoid another 2 AM waddle to the hall bath with my 'unmentionables' at my ankles.

Since this is technically my kids scrapbook I may as well throw this in there.

I like the 4th just fine, but I can't say it's my favorite holiday.  It's not that I don't love my country, it's just that I don't really love the clothes.  I'm not really into the Old Navy flag shirts or painting stars on my toenails.  I feel much better now that that's off my chest.

Let's move on, shall we?

It's not a party until Bode strips off the clothing.

His first fireworks experience:

If you ever need someone to feed 1,500 people in 20 minutes on a shoe-string budget just call us.

We'll tell you no, but feel free to call us anyway.  We've got all kinds of advice.

Andrea, the calm and collected one.  

Randon's not too proud for trash-duty so he's a keeper (he also happens to be insanely tech-savvy)

The unsuspecting newbies.  They were too naive to know what they were getting themselves into but they were perfectly capable of running the show themselves, trust me. (and yes, she always looks that cute, even with hamburger grease and baked bean juice all over her.  She's also super smart, organized and always in a positive mood.  I didn't want to believe this combination was possible.)

Dear MRCC Building Planning People, If you ever decide to build a new kitchen or renovate an old one at church, please bring these two on as consultants.  I promise they've spent more time in the Summit kitchen than anyone else.  In fact, Scott may have slept there Saturday night.

We are the couple that you screen phone calls from because you are afraid we are going to try and rope you into helping us with another huge project.  And more than likely, we are (We don't even answer phone calls from each other anymore).

And I'd shamelessly beg these people to help do it all over again....and I probably will.

Mia's evil side comes out in her writing. Bode's evil side, well, it just comes out.

Mia's latest adventure in prose (I'm too lazy to retype it):

 I love these demented little children.

It's always popsicle season around here.

Because I love lying to my children, I have convinced them that frozen vegetables are mini-popsicles.  We have yellow (corn), orange (carrots), or green (peas) on hand all the time.  

You should see the confused looks on their little friends faces.  It's kind of a cross between shock, disappointment and curiosity.  

The unsuspecting cousin:

And he'll even clean up the floor for me so he's a keeper.

I suppose someday this will become embarrassing.  And when it does I guess they will have to get new friends I will have to change my evil ways (frozen Naked juice, perhaps).  

But for now I say, "Eat up, Suckers."  Bwuahahahahaha....