I love this little pink guy - he blooms all summer long. If I remember to water, that is.

Last year, I was puzzled because nothing happened with him, until I realized he was being crowded out by the ivy that is also planted in his pot. So, after thinning the ivy out, a few days later I was rewarded by some lovely pink blooms!

So, 2 years ago, I planted this climbing rose. I planted one at each outside corner, but this corner receives the most sun and it is THRIVING! I periodically go out there and tie its straggling branches to different posts in order to keep it moving, and so far, it is happy! Although this is the first year it's bloomed! And boy, has it ever! I was astonished one day when I went out to sweep the patio and I realized just how many flowers this little guy was holding! It was amazingly lovely! I just hope I can coax the other side into performing, too. I love climbing vines!!

Here's one such fact: kids occasionally poop in the bathtub.

Oh, I hear you, "EWWW!!! Grosss!!!"

I echo such sentiments.

Just moments ago, I was sitting down here catching up on some of my favorite blogs while Kyle gave the kids a bath. Happy sounds filtered down the stairs to me...splashing, squealing, screeching, giggling...all good bath sounds.

And then, suddenly, things changed.

I heard a horrific scream from Brooklyn and while I was down here and couldn't really see what was going on, it was clear that the overall atmosphere had changed from happy to disgusted and urgent.

I instantly had a hunch. Pretty much validated by the sounds I then heard coming from the bathroom - tub draining, shower running, kids feet pounding the hallways, more squeals.

I sprinted up the stairs to confirm my suspicion. Yes, there was poop in the tub. August had let the warm water lull him into a false state of security and just done his business right there. With the bath toys, with their bath water....oh yeah, it makes me want to hurl.

What do I do? I take a picture of the mayhem and then run back down here to tell you guys about it. Great mom, huh?

After a close encounter with some bleach, that tub and its toys will once again be called into service. But for now, I'm still really grossed out.

We did, for the first time, do little Easter baskets. This is one thing that wasn't a huge deal in my house growing up. I mean, how could it have been? Can you imagine 7 ginormous candy-filled monstrosities lined up on the kitchen counter Easter morning? No way! My parents would have killed themselves by noon once the sugar high hit! No, we really did focus on the actual meaning of Easter - the resurrection of Jesus Christ.

Now that we're older, my mom DOES do Easter baskets/treat bags, and I guarantee you they are more appreciated now than they would have been as kids. I love them. Thanks, Mom!!!!

So when I found myself picking up the odd bit of chocolate bunny and jelly beans at the store, I was a little surprised! I even got a little of the ridiculous plastic grass! Why? I have no idea! It, of course, was immediately strewn across the floor and ended up in the trash!

And I discovered that Brooklyn doesn't like jelly beans. Which is ok, because I very much do!

Speaking of the real meaning of Easter, let me tell you that I did not adequately anticipate how challenging it would be to answer, in a simplified manner, why Jesus died on the cross.

And after a few weeks of hearing about this at Bible Study, Mother's Day Out and church, Brooklyn did pop the question to me out of the blue one day. "Mom," she said casually as she sauntered into the kitchen, "why did Jesus die on the cross?"

She is puzzled because here she learns about baby Jesus being born and next thing she knows, a man with the same name is suddenly dying on a cross. And as if that wasn't enough, He comes back to life! Revelation 1:18 - I am ALIVE!

It was a good opportunity for me to pick up the phone and talk to my Dad about how and what to say to little ones. His advice: keep it simple. Don't overwhelm them with details they won't understand. Don't go into specifics of sin and punishment...just keep it simple. The basic building blocks. And as she gets older and gains a deeper understanding of right and wrong and conscious decisions to do wrong, then you can start going back with finer strokes. Too much, too soon and you'll just utterly confuse them.

This is one of those times when I am so grateful to have godly, wise, experienced parents. And what a neat milestone to cross as a mother and father.

But every now and then an occasion arises which NECESSITATES my baking. Like Easter. It was a must. I had to make sugar cookies for Easter. I found I had the appropriate cookie cutter designs and that being the case, felt completely justified in whipping up a batch of sugar cookies.

Next came the icing of said cookies. It is no coincidence that the Williams-Sonoma catalog arrived the same day filled with pictures of gorgeously, perfectly iced and decorated sugar cookies in the shapes of flowers, bunnies, baskets... it just fueled my fire!

So I whipped up a batch of royal icing. Except that instead of just using 4 egg whites and 1 pound of powdered sugar, I got the crazy idea to throw in some leftover butter. Huh. Well, after the required 7 minutes of hard whipping, the icing hadn't "whipped" like I remembered it doing. I believe it was the butter's fault.

So, since I'd already added a tiny bit of butter and ruined my chances of generating the icing I had in mind, I threw in more butter and some almond flavoring and said to heck with it. Let's just ice these babies as is!

Then, my beloved husband being out of town on business, I got totally crazy and let the kids do most of the decorating. Even my 21 month August. Me being the mess-a-phobe that I am, this was big stuff. They were covered with sticky icing in the various colors we had created.

I believe August licked more than he put on the actual cookies.

And Brooklyn never quite grasped the concept of covering all of the cookie with icing (she gets this from her Dad who can never manage to fully coat the Pillsbury cinnamon rolls with their icing, either. Huge peeve of mine. Icing is the best part!) August did inherit my thoroughness...and apparent love for sugar!

And when it was all said and done, they looked absolutely nothing like the cookies I'd envisioned that would be so perfect Williams-Sonoma would beg to take pictures of them for their next catalog! What we got instead was more along the lines of tie-die, blurred colors, psychedelic, groovy Easter cookies. But you know what? They sure tasted great!

August gets upset because Brooklyn has something he wants.

Brooklyn gets womped in the eye or some other body part.

Brooklyn then runs off with his desired toy and August proceeds to wail in protest.

He pursues.

Captures desired object to dismay of sibling. Notice his expression. Mixed parts "well, you just got what you deserved" and "that just goes to show you- don't mess with me!"

Brooklyn wails in protest.

This sequence then repeats itself in reverse form ad infinitum.

I left a very well paid job to handle crises like this.

I have to remind myself occasionally that this is a job only I can do.

And then I laugh because, well, it really is kind of funny.