Awkward . . .

Ava and Wyatt reverently observing our Lenten candles.

spelling lesson.  looks like some handwriting practice is in order too. . .

Usually usual around here.  We went to the park during one of the glorious sunbreaks we've been having here in the valley, and it turned into this tromp through a bog.  If you don't have kids, you might not understand how the words "I have to poop" can strike such pain and anxiety in a mother's heart when said mother is out at the park and the restrooms at said park are obnoxiously "closed for season."  What are my choices?  Load up and hurry home?  Find a shovel and some bushes? (I'm totally kidding.  I would (most likely) never do this at a public park.)  Then I remembered that there is an outhouse on the far side of the park next to the soccer fields and we are saved!  Or something.


I think we will save time and go off road (and then I can count it as a science and nature walk), so we start walking through the grass.  By grass, I mean a few long blades hiding a pit of slime and quicksand.  We manage to get through this without anyone falling and getting sucked down, and then have to cross a gravel parking lot while I try to get one child to slow down a bit, and one to hurry up, and the other one to stop yanking my hair out by the handful.  We make it to the outhouse, and I have these terrible visions of Wyatt falling in, so I have Ava hold Charlotte outside while I help Wyatt attend to business.  This makes me nervous because Ava is not really big enough, and also there is a man parked inexplicably close to the outhouse, eating his lunch in his car.  I hop back and forth between helping Wyatt and monitoring Ava as Charlotte clings desperately to her sister's shoulders.  Wyatt is very upset that he cannot flush, but also very curious about the urinal portion of the outhouse.  Finally we get Wyatt taken care of, and Ava decides she needs to use the facilities also.  We wander around trying to look normal while she does that.  I make a huge effort not to look at the man parked about 6 feet away and fail, but he seems to be steadily ignoring us.  Everyone is take care of so we start walking back, and then Wyatt says, "I have to go more."  I sit down and cry.  Ok, not really.  We did make it back to the playground and have a reasonable amount of time to play, so I guess it's a win?  :)

Ava sewing and listening to an audio book
one of her creations.  I just realized it's sideways, but I'm way too lazy to rotate it and reload it.

The other day I was walking around doing various tasks and I became aware of the children screaming and running anytime I entered a room, saying to each other:  "Look out, it's the giant!! LOOKOUT! GIANT!"  Guess that's me.  At least they were working together to overcome adversity instead of screeching about who was breathing on whom.

standard Charlotte expression. (Charlotte is being held by my aunt in this photo,
but I wasn't sure if she'd want to be posted. . .)

I was smiling at an English muffin that Charlotte had been munching on, laughing to Ava about the little baby bites around the edges.  Ava laughed politely with me, and then turns to her little friend (who was over for lunch) and says, "awkward. . ."
Um, what??  I have since determined that she does not really know what the word means because she used it about a hundred times in the following 7 minutes.  Let me give you a definition child.  You are in a public restroom and your potty-training firstborn sings loudly: "Good job Mama, you pooped!"  Awkward.


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