On corn mazes, 5 o'clock shadows, and spooky buddies.

Ohhh man.  I know.  Long time.  Seems I say that at the top of most posts lately.  Unfortunately, it's true.

Fact is, it's so tough to just get home from work, and dig up the energy to a play for a couple of hours with the kids before bedtime.  Weekends are for cleaning, shopping, potty training (please remind me to tell you about that one!), and for possibly having an adult conversation with my husband if we manage to be in the same room for 30 minutes together.

Many times I've thought of you.  But an episode of Hoarders and a glass of wine just seemed like the right thing to do. 

So let's start with some updates and hopefully we can get back where we left off. 

The kids are big.  And when I say big, what I really mean, is that they both say words I understand, and that I'm not always proud they are saying in public.  Cole has asked me why "that lady is so much bigger than you" in the grocery checkout line, and Till has yelled "poop" in church.  I'm way more worried about Till stringing words together.  I can already tell that little apple is not so far from her tree.

I'm home with the kids alone most weekends because Bill works, so we've needed to be creative with our activities. 

Even Buzz is up for a good tea party every now and then.  And he's lovely company.

The kids and I met up with our old neighbors at the local pumpkin festival a few weeks back.  To think that I used to be terrified to take these children out to events by myself is hysterical now.  I strapped the Tills to my back, pushed Cole in the stroller, and we had a grand time.  Cole rode a pony, Till had her face painted and we all slept well that night.

Cutest pumpkin. . .ever?  It's okay, you don't have to state the obvious.

We did get lost in the corn maze, though, and ended up walking out the entrance.  Which, for those of you wondering, was indeed right next to the exit.  Who knew?

Miss Matilda had a blast running away from me.  And seeing as the corn rows were planted about a Till's width from each other, I'm shocked she didn't just run straight through the corn to the other side!

It was about 85 degrees that day and the maze smelled like a wet dog.  The heat was so bad that I barely minded when Till ate watermelon on my neck.

It kind of felt nice.  At first.  Before it was sticky and attracted bees.

Bill's imagination is always better than my own and he made cardboard cut-outs of the kids one day while I was at work.  When I got home, the kids were lying on their selves, watching a movie.

Creepy, right?

They call them their "spooky buddies" and I agree.  Funny how they need to be lying right on them to play with them.  And why are their legs so wavy?!?

What's creepier to me is Till's 5 o'clock chocolate shadow:

The number of pictures I have of this kid apparently filthy, is ridiculous. 

But what's the neatest, besides their blossoming vocabularies ("Mommy, is that a moustache?"  Thanks Cole, thanks.) Is that they are really starting to be each other's friends.  They play together at school, and at home.  They play with the same toys, say the same things, eat the same food.  They hide on me in the same places.  They giggle together at nap time even though I tell them to ignore each other 100 times.  They're friends.  That's so neat.

The other night, they were watching a movie together and made a fort.  A fort in our house is when you drape a throw blanket over a little folding table.  Our definition of fort is going to stay the same for as long as I can possibly make it.  If I make forts anything like I build Legos, it won't be pretty.

They were sharing a bowl of popcorn, a blanket, a fort, and a movie.  It. was. precious.

Almost worth having another. 

No it isn't.  That was a test. I'm not sure you passed.

Anyway, I'll post more often.  I've got pictures of my recent canning efforts, and some fantastic homemade finger paints we made the other day.  Oh, and tomorrow is Halloween.  I can't possibly leave you hanging on that.  I will, however, try to behave a little better than I did last year.  No promises.