Jacob's soccer game on Saturday was a big improvement over the scrimmage a few weeks ago. Their playing field is about a tenth the size of regulation, which I think is the cause of the pandemonium. If one of these 4-year olds lands a good, solid kick, the ball just rolls until it's out of bounds, where someone gets to throw or kick it back in, only to start the mayhem again. Jacob--among others--has a delayed reaction to the ball being put in play. He's too busy trying to get the attention of his friends on the sidelines, or playing a fake fist-fight scene with a teammate, or flirting with the girl on the opposing team from his class at school. But true to his promise to PaPa after the last game, there was NO WHINING OR CRYING. Yay, Jacob!!!
I came home from the soccer game and worked for about 3 hours to finish painting the pipe fence that Neal had finally finished welding. Two rails to go when my paint roller broke. I resorted to a paint brush to complete the job, which was no small task. This particular paint is very thick and sticky and I ran out just as I was finishing the last joint. (Weld joint--not to be confused...well, if you look closely at the quality of the paint job, you may be inclined to think other "joints" were utilized.)
Last week I had bought all the fixin's for Easter cookie baking and time was running out, so despite my exhaustion and aching back from the fence painting, I drove over to pick up my grandkids, 'cause that's just the kind of super woman I am.
I divided the dough and had two rolling pins, which made everything go pretty smoothly. At one point when I was gathering up the scraps of dough and re-shaping it to roll out, I mentioned something about the "cookie dough." Jacob's eyes got big and he piped up, "Cookie dough????, you mean like Cookie Dough Ice Cream?" I can see the little connectors in his brain working.
After the first batch had cooled I smeared frosting on them and let the kids add sprinkles. Usually I make my own frosting, but this time I cheated and bought some in a can. I may never make homemade frosting again. That stuff is incredible!!! If you know me well, you know that I'm a frosting person. Apparently Lauren inherited that trait as well, because she spent all her time on ONE cookie. I frost the cookie, she licks the frosting and sprinkles off and hands it back to me, REPEAT....about 17 times. I really couldn't blame her. I wanted to get a spoon and just eat the frosting out of the can, but I didn't want to set a bad example. I'll do it later.
Before all the cookies were finished, we couldn't stand to be inside on such a beautiful day any longer. So, although the kitchen looked like a bomb of flour exploded, we dropped everything and went out to play. 'Cause that's just the way we roll. Jacob found 2 dead baby frogs in the sand box, so he was pumped. They are now properly buried in my patio flower pot.
Later, while I was sweeping up flour and tiny sprinkles, Neal and Jacob played GI Joe's and Lauren, of course, wanted in on the action. They reluctantly agreed to let her play, but it wasn't long before she entered her own little imaginary world, with Joe's ammo belt becoming the bracelet on her wrist and the GI cards her important office papers.
Off to the races.
Bare feet on a motorcycle--do not attempt this at home.
On the porch swing. Yes, that's bird poop just 12" from her head.
But she doesn't care.
It's a carefree "no-shoes" kind of day.
