I love you. I love you not.

I am married to a hard-working man, who, as a bonus, looks mighty hot in a white t-shirt. I have two spunky daughters, who fill my life with fits of laughter (occasionally, because I am at my wits end, and I choose uncontrollable laughter over uncontrollable sobs). And I have some pretty stellar friends, who are not afraid to tell me I have broccoli stuck in my teeth, and who offer a wealth of great advice. Plain and simple, my life is full. So, no offense to any of the people mentioned above (or to you, Jordan), but I have a new love.
I discovered the bread pudding at Famous Dave's tonight. It is now consuming my every thought. All I can think about is when/how I can get my next fix. Can someone please grab me firmly by the hand and lead me (drag me) to the gym? Curse you Famous Dave! Don't you know I have to be in a bathing suit, sunning myself in the Bahamas in 3 weeks. Okay, so this is shaping up to be more of a love/hate relationship. But oh, that praline sauce is calling my name.....

Seasonally Challenged

My daughters use Halloween baskets for their Easter egg hunt. We have a Valentine's table cloth to catch the drips when dyeing eggs (which our children did shirtless, of course). I forgot to take pictures of my girls in their fancy Easter dresses. So this post will wrap up all the Easter dysfunction, but hey, that's how we roll.

My sisters came to town. We ate some candy. We held a little neighborhood Easter egg hunt in our backyard. We ate some candy. We dyed some eggs. We ate some candy. We headed to Payette for an Easter feast. We ate some candy. (Does anyone else see the theme of the weekend?)
Patiently waiting for the hunt to begin (I know, I too am jealous of all my punk friends and their cute butt jeans. I just try not to stand too close to them.).
And the hunt is on.
Mark has since cut the grass. We just felt tall grass would add more of a challenge.
You might not be able to sense it, but they were eager and excited. Seriously.
Showing off her beautiful basket (hey now, purple is very much an Easter color!).
Soren kept trying to share. Quite nice of him. My thighs thank you.
If you beg, she might even let you borrow the basket to use as a purse when you go out on Friday night. Haven't you heard, orange is the new pink.
The girls proudly displaying their loot.
The two little adorable boys above belong to a couple of our friends/neighbors. Due to their overwhelming cuteness, I predict some pretty intense crushes in our house in a few years!
Wise little Carsyn hung out inside the very warm house, while the rest of us froze outside!
The egg dyeing crew (I kept my shirt on because rolls on a 2-yr-old: cute. Rolls on a 29-yr-old: not cute.).
She was quite the egg dyeing pro.
As was I.
Claire was so proud of her eggs.
I'm still not sure how I am going to use that many hard boiled eggs before they go bad. Egg salad sandwiches anyone?
My mom, aka. Grandma, enjoying some quality time with her crazies (it's not mean, it's descriptive. Have you met them?).
Yes Michelle, we get it. I'm all matchy, matchy w/ a zebra. Very funny.
My mom was so proud of her "photo contest winning" shot of Claire watching the chicken. We were just proud she did not cut off her head or an appendage.
My beautiful sisters. We are a freakin riot to be around. Seriously. We are funny. Although, no one else seems to get our jokes. Oh and I guess no one else thinks we are funny.
Except maybe him. But what does he know. He has 4 sisters who used to torture him. So even if he didn't think we were funny, he knows better than to admit it.

Perhaps I'm odd, but I like my family. I really do. They are my peeps (not to be confused w/ the sugary marshmallow variety-although those were plentiful this weekend too). I wish there were more important holidays to justify flying them in every other weekend. I guess we will have to start celebrating National Pecan Day (today) since we missed celebrating Eight-track Tape Day last week (both are, although not nationally observed, holidays on some American calendars).

So you have reached the end of a very long post. Thanks for hanging in there. I can now check off the traditional Easter post from my "to do" list. Onward to more important posts (I'm drawing a blank. Any suggestions?).

Lions and tigers and bears! Oh my!

I have so many pictures I need to post, so I'm going to keep the jabbering to a minimum so I can get down to business. We went to the zoo. It was fun. I took a bunch of pictures. Here they are (briefness is hard for me, and not very fun. I don't think I will every attempt it again. Not my style.)
A slight wardrobe malfunction.
I made sure to angle the camera away from the sign that said "Do Not Climb on Fence." I felt there would be less judging that way.
Cora and Pres enjoying a blissful drive in an old safari jeep.
Claire learning that no one likes a backseat driver.

Carsyn and Rachel were all smiles (Carsyn because she was at the zoo, Rachel because the trip to the zoo was coming to an end!).

I feel ya Little Peggy Anne McKay

No gash or rash or purple bumps, but there might as well be. We are a bunch of sickos. After my last post my mind was brewing with cool future posts. I had caught the blogging bug, or so I thought. What I actually caught, and Cora and Claire caught too, was the flu. The wretched, awful, hit-by-a-2-ton-truck, flu. This post is not to seek your pity, but rather to inform you that my brain is fried (seriously, fried. Well maybe not done yet as it is actually in the process of frying currently as I sit here with a wicked temperature). So no brilliant posts from me. And when I return and begin using that mush left for brains to post again, please love me in spite of what, um, blogging genius is created.

In case you are wondering what is getting me through this, well here she is in all of her glory:
Purchased in 1992, she has comforted (no pun intended) me for 17 years (remember what I said about fried brains, I just had to use a calculator to come up w/ that number). She is getting a bit tattered, and I may cry when she completely disintegrates, but for now she offers the perfect mix of warmth and comfort. I know you're jealous because you threw yours away years ago. I mean who knew how much mileage one could get out of this thing (except maybe you Edna and Ericka, because as I remember correctly, one of these babies graced your bed as well!).

And now I will go crash on my bed and curl up with my trusty ol comforter. That little kiddish secret won't keep us from being friends right? Right?