it's my birthday!

Well, it was. Last week I celebrated my birthday and it was so awesome. I'm not sure if being with all my family or the Snickers cheesecake made it so kick ass, but I'm thinking maybe it was the combo, but a little more nougatocity. That's a real word, in fact, it's in the dictionary...the Urban Dictionary. Nougatocity often occurs during or at the end of eating a wonderfully delicious Snickers candy bar. Or cheesecake. Yum.

We celebrated at La Gloria Ice House. The food was yummy, the atmosphere was bustling and the company was impeccable. My kids even ate their whole meal with minimal fussing. Mase was partially enthralled with an iPhone from Aunt Yaya and Max was fully spoiled in the arms of his grandmas (who had too much fun wearing superhero capes). Allegedly.

Everyone enjoyed too much food and cold, refreshing margaritas (except the birthday girl). I can't believe I thought Mexican food sans margaritas or imported beer was a good idea when pregnant. But I did it. My margarita was nougat. Or something close to it...pretty much as intoxicating.

It's funny how when you get older birthday's mean more, because you realize they only come once a year and a year is a long time and it's kind of like this huge reflection of how busy and crazy your life has gotten in the past 365 days. Every September 8th I kind of think wow that was a quick year it's already my birthday again, what did I even do or accomplish this year?

But when your 3.5 that is not what a birthday is about and my inquiring, enthusiastic preschooler wanted to know what kind of birthday I was having and what kind of cake I wanted and how many dinosaur toys I'd be receiving. He was mortified I would not be picking a theme related to prehistoric beasts, pirates, or superheros. When you are three if you don't have a theme, well it's not really even your birthday. Mason was extremely concerned the night before my birthday while I was tucking him in, reminding him that, "When we wake up it's mommy's birthday!" His face immediately showed distress. And then came the wrath of 21 questions. Who would get me a cake? He was much too little to get to the store. I'd better remind daddy that my birthday was tomorrow or I'd wake up with no balloons, no toys and worst of all "no pwincess cake". I assured him that someone would remember to get me a cake. And if I needed to remind daddy it was my birthday we'd be packing up all our toys (okay, I didn't really tell him that).


I did not have to remind Michael and instead woke up to roses, lots of candy, cupcakes and even some sparkling cider (in yo face Margaritaville). Michael served and cleaned breakfast to the munchkins and it was a happy birthday indeed! And hey, I ended up with a cake. Have I mentioned that yet? Because it was the bomb and I know I've mentioned it. But alas, when you grow up, you can bear the thought of letting someone else blow out your candles. So long as they're cute.

when life gives you lemons

You make lemonade right? So what do we do when the forecast brings on loads of rain? We play it in it. Obviously.


Playing in the rain is more fun than you can imagine. I even enjoyed the freeing experience this past Tuesday as well. It'd been pouring for nearly twenty-four hours and we even had some flash flood warnings and street closures in the area.

So Max and I went and scooped Mason up an hour early from school, rushed home, got our rain boots on (and our pants off...?) and puddled jumped, splashed around, and ran in the rain.
Don't you love their fashion? Okay, the headband was my doing, but the humidity and the rain combined made for stringy face bangs that Max detested. He much preferred my headband. Mason's lovely ensemble on the other hand is totally his doing. As we put on his boots he informed me that he could NOT play in the rain wearing shorts. I thought he wanted pants - but by the time I'd gotten some he already had his boots and umbrella ready by the door. I didn't have the heart to force any bottoms on him.


If were breaking teh rules and playing in the rain - heck we may as well break some fashion rules right? Fashion faux-pas # 1 - Crocs + headband. Faux-pas # 2 - Rainboots + boxer briefs. Although I have to admit I think Mason looks pretty cute. I mean he is just 3 and if undies and rainboots aren't what being three is all about then life is not fun.


We splashed for nearly 30 minutes before I thought hey, maybe these kids need to warm up. So we went inside for a warm bubble bath and snuggled up in bed for an afternoon of watching Monsters Inc. It was a lovely afternoon, even though the forecast tried to rain on our parade.


When the forecast shows rain, put on your boots and get out there for some splashin'! Don't forget your shark boxers.

hey, he's got favorites too!

I am the worst mom ever. You guys wouldn't even know I had a second child other than his cute little face up in the corner icon. I feel like my blog posts are grossly unfair. It's hard because Mason talks and says lots of funny things that I feel like I need to write down and quick because they are witty and cutesy.

But Maximo is his own little character sans words. Well, hey he can say a handful of nonsense - like ball and hi and daddy! My favorite is the combination of "aye addy" right when Michael walks through the door. We are usually all so ecstatic for Daddy that Maximo bolts to the door waving and "aye" - ing and sometimes clapping away. Hell I usually feel like a round of applause is appropriate too.

Some of Maximo's favorites are grapes of any color, chocolate milk, brushing his teeth, the toothbrush in general, dancing, destroying story time, night lights, pillows, being diaper-less, being outside, dogs, birds and noodles.
Not such fan favorites for Max are watermelon, white milk, eggs, bath time, swimming, the feeling of grass on his bare feet, nail cutting, movies or any television, having to share and being gated away from stair climbing.
He has a few baby tricks and will still high five til the sun goes down. He likes to blow bubbles in a straw. He loves pantry exploring, emptying nicely folded laundry out of baskets, and exploring the fridge. He will climb anything in sight - especially brick fireplaces and couches. He loves to book it to the stairs and sleeps like a champ. He had his fifteen minutes of fame and was featured on a short snippet of the Austin evening news.

We've yet to cut his hair and I think he likes it that way. He's got a head full of curls and eyes as dark as midnight. He's a totally different toddler than Mason was.

So there you have Maximo's favorites - edition "almost 15 month".

P is for.

Piggies.

Popcorn.

Pajama party past noon.