The Nugget is One.

The Duke of Sasquatchington turned one yesterday. I am still a little obsessed with the Royal Wedding, but I do think the name fits him quite well...and yes of course I loved Kate's dress, who wouldn't? And I do have alot to say in regards to the wedding, but the Duke's birthday takes some major precedence, and this queen mum is quite proud.

I tell you someone must have pushed the fast forward button. I think the more children you have, the faster time goes. I say it all the time, I know. You are like, 'shut up already, kids grow, its what they do, get over it!' And I get it, the busier you are, the faster the time goes, you are too side tracked to notice the calendar. I understand the reality of the situation. Before I know it I will be wearing Depends yelling at Andy to turn up his hearing aid and put in his dentures because the great grand kids are coming to visit.  So just let me have my pity party, alright?

So yesterday was a day of nothingness and somethingness all in one. See it's hard to celebrate one, unless of course you have the One Year Old Birthday Bash on the actual day the child's birthday. And having a party on a Wednesday in the beginning of May for 50+ of his most adoring fans can get a little hairy. The actual party then is Saturday. A mexican fiesta if you will, for the nugget who turned uno this week. So we celebrated Jake's birthday for Kendall and E today. We decorated, we had his 'favorite' meal, we sang to him, and we let him do what he wanted to do all day. This consisted of knocking down castles, eating crayons, dumping pet food bowls after others have done said chore. It was a little overwhelming for the siblings, we hit the top of the patience meter all day long, but it was for only a day, and it is his day, and you just have to deal with him climbing up your barbie house, just pretend he is Godzilla.

But of course turning one was something for me.
 I snuggle up in his little chunkiness and breathe him in as he sleeps, since that is the only time he is still. The debate rages on as to if this is my last little baklava, and so having him come out of this baby stage is a little overwhelming for me. I still swaddle him all up in a blanket and rock him to sleep. Yes, if he is my last, I will be also doing this at the age of 10. Why do you even bother wondering?

I mean look at him all scrunched up in that baby seat that lasted all of 4 months until he grew out of it. I miss size 1 diaper bulges. And not that I am craving another body invasion at this moment, please don't mistake what I am saying. I just want him to stay little for a couple more minutes.

Isn't it funny that as we grow we still look the same when we sleep as when we were a baby? I mean Jake doesn't sleep in this jacked up position, but the face is the same. I never realized this until I watched my kids sleep, and I thought I might share this important piece of information with you.

He now sleeps through the night.
He eats what we eat.
He is now beginning to take those first steps, preferring to side step then forward march. You know, whatever gets the job done.

I love when they are learning to walk. It's similar to the first time you are on roller skates. Everything becomes your stabilizer, your balance. The wall, the car, the chair, the dog, your brother, a tree, you get the idea.

His favorite thing to play with is balls. He just found his own personal set and thinks they are just about the most fascinating thing, typical to most males. However, he is obsessed with all actual balls that are not of the human anatomy as well. And surprisingly, he gets it. It's a little bizarre. He knows where to shoot a basketball. He can play a mad game of catch. And he can bounce and catch until the cows come home, if we had cows that were going to come home.

His most favorite things are his animals, and Lillian actually tolerates him, when she swats at him he still goes in for the lovin'. He's winning her over. And he adores his brother and sister. Each time he sees them its as if they have been away for days. The excitement is completely lost on them because it just doesn't make sense to them, but he doesn't even notice. Personally, I think it's awesome to be rendered as someones most favorite person, and this is what he thinks of them. I remind them of this frequently...and Kendall gives me that look that says, 'seriously, all I did was go to take a leak and was gone maybe 2 minutes.'

He is a lover and a goof.
He is at the stage right now where he is noticing social nuances and when we laugh he mimics it, when Kendall or E cry he loves on them and pats their back, and when he does something worthy of praise, he is the first one to give himself a standing ovation encouraging everyone to do the same.


He is my joy.
His smile so sweet.
I could sit and twirl my fingers in his strawberry blond curls all day.
He is happy and it is infectious. I feel as though life is going to be awesome through his eyes.
His cheeks are munchable.
His kisses, slobber filled.
He is mine.

Nugget we love you so.
Happy 1st Birthday.
It's the 1st of many and despite my heart breaking over the entire aging process, we can't wait to spend them all with you.

If you missed it and just want to read the play by play on Jake's Birth click:
here and then here. Why yes there is two parts, have you had a baby?
I blogged a lot about my pregnancy with him through 2009 and 2010 if you feel the need to dig into my past.
Enjoy!

The Sack-a-Rice Jesus Made

Today was Easter Sunday.

aw...so sweet & innocent...see that's exactly how the disney princesses got their kiss, they look so angelic, the prince must kiss her...and then BAM! their awake...and they want you to run through the forest talking & singing all day long.

Don't you just love trying to get a photo of your children on holidays? It's even more awesome when you have a son named Jacob Michael and he hates to sit still at all.

We have just decided amongst ourselves that we are simply just attempting to document the event, and that frills, smiles, and eyes and heads looking the correct way is just plain stupid to expect. Apparently so are shoes.

We do get the two oldest in a shot, and so there you can see the outfits because I am that matchy matchy mom...see the gingham theme? The blues, whites, khakis, greys? I'm that mom.But beyond that, we set our expectations pretty low. We now have Jake, and he's really just a doll, as you can see.

We did better with the whole reason for the season this year in regards to Kendall to some extent. Last year if you remember, in great theatrics...I tell you, I am sending her to the auditions at Sight & Sound to play Mary Magdalene, 'but that is terrible, why would they have my Jesus hang on a cross and laugh at him, and make him wear a sticker bush on his head, that's terrible!' I mean there was heaving sobs. And its sweet, right? She felt it. She felt the anger and the emotion of the entire event at 4 years old. Yet, I could not speak of Easter without her getting extremely emotional and theatrical for weeks before and after.

So this year, you know, I prepare for it. My kids ask tons of questions they want to know what we are doing and why. Kendall is now in preschool at a church. And I sat with the phone at my side for the past 2 weeks she was in school waiting for the phone call from the master of the preschool, to come and pick her up because she is hysterical while they are learning about the true meaning behind Easter. It was really that bad, I had to sit with her and rock her and hold her in my arms last year. 'My poor Jesus!'

And she was right. How do you sugar coat that story and make sense of the entire thing to a four year old? I believe I just rolled with the punches when I was that young, until I could truly conceptualize the great sacrifice that Jesus has made for us. But I knew the end, I knew that he rose, I knew that he returned, I knew that he was alive. I think it was fast forward learning in Sunday School when you were that young, ' and we wave the palms, Jesus eats with his disciples for one last time, Jesus died on the cross,' and then press the pause button and big emphasis on...he rose from the dead, the stone has rolled away, he is alive ! Kendall, could not get past the horrific events that led to this to even hear what a miracle had occurred, that he was ok, that he loves us so much. So I prepared myself, made sure I had the tissues.

I sign her up for the Lunch Bunch, this is staying for lunch afterschool for a few hours, that is about Easter. She thinks that she is going to see the Easter Bunny and is going on and on about how she is just going to wave to him and not sit with him. I tell her that Easter is not really about the Easter Bunny, and that the Bunny is fun and all, but that Easter was more then that. I told her to listen real closely at Lunch Bunch and then to tell me what Easter was really about, and that the Easter Bunny would not be joining her for lunch.

I prepared, like I said for the worst. She gets in the van at pick up, she has a wooden cross that she painted, and she hands it to me with specific instructions, 'uh Mommy, we must hang this in a place where we will see it often and are reminded of the great sack-a-rice Jesus made for us.' MmmHmm, that's right, she said sack a rice, like sack of rice. This entire thing took on another complex twist to it. It's never easy right?

I ask her if she had learned what Easter really was all about and she says to me, 'Jesus, Mommy, it's about Jesus,  (and she huffs, like I am stupid), but Mrs. K (her teacher) says that it is still alright for us to have an Easter Egg Hunt, so please make sure of that.' I just love the age where what your teacher says to you is law.

So at bath time we are talking about Easter again, and I am asking Kendall some questions about Easter and having Ethan join in the conversation. And I am saying how Jesus gave his life for us, and because of that when we ask God for forgiveness for that we did that was wrong, he forgives us. And Kendall looks at me and says, 'uh, Mommy, no Jesus made us all a sack a rice.' Ethan asks, ' Jesus gave us rice Kendall?' 'Yes a sack of it.'

This may actually be worse then the emotional breakdown the previous year because now there is the hard headed stubborn 5 year old correcting me and my theology. And really, does she even know what a sack of rice is anyway? Where is the Cadbury Egg Bunny?

So I nicely explain that it actually was a 'sacrifice,' and explain what the word means and I go into the story explaining it to Ethan and Kendall. And she is not saying 'sack a rice' anymore, which is encouraging. And as I am explaining the crucifixion to them Kendall interjects for her brother, 'now don't worry Ethan, Jesus is ok in the end. He has risen, he came back and was alive again.'

Ethan looks at me and asks, 'so can our fish come back alive again too?'

A Pug and a Bullseye

You know sometimes having a dog is really helpful. He cleans up the scraps quite well. He is like a snorting food censor. He sniffs it out and zeroes in on it. 'BEEP! BEEP!BEEP!'  But in Stanley's case its 'SNORT,SNORT,SNORT!' He loves it when Jake eats. He just knows that this little rugrat will throw food all over the place, a little afternoon food sprinkle, if you may. So when Jake plops into the highchair in all his thunder thigh glory, Stanley mans himself at the base.

Having Stanley around is also very fun for the children. He is their dog. A member of our family. He keeps them warm at night, whomever he chooses to snuggle with and snore all over. And you know, he plays some pretty sweet catch. He sometimes runs around the house at top speed, tail straight out, bottom almost to the ground enabling him to propel himself forward at an even greater speed. Which is quite entertaining to watch. He is a good companion, and always seeks us out. Always happy to see us return home. Always worried about us as he sits perched in Kendall's window sill barking incessantly at us as we play outside, the anxiety over us perhaps putting ourselves in danger is too much for him to bear.

We live in a neighborhood where your dog must be leashed while outside. And this is handy. I mean who wants dogs just running the sidewalks? However, Stanley and my children didn't get this memo from the association, and they find it necessary to open the door to a world of free play. I will readily admit there are times that I don't even chase after Stanley. I just leave the front door open and call his name like 764 times when I think of him. Because I cannot leave a house full of children unattended. Its the dog or the kids. A decision must be made quickly, I mean after all, its my job. However, he is getting better. Most especially if I threaten to send him to a country where dogs are a delicacy. And sometimes he goes and checks on his homies and comes home after he gets them all agitated and pawing at their crates, windows, or doors.

Stanley is also obsessed with our neighbor Beck. Its just really annoying is what it is when it comes down to it. Beck has thought that it might be a fabulous idea to give Stanley treats on the regular which has now in turn, trained Stanley to expect this. I don't know, maybe he felt as though Stan was being neglected in a house crawling with needy children and a fat cat. I mean, Stanley always has some dog biscuits readily available. But perhaps Beck is a snob about his dog biscuits, and our dog biscuits weren't as good as his dog treats. Whatever the case may be, Stanley now recognizes Beck's vehicle. And when Beck arrives home from a really long day at work, because he seriously is the hardest working man I know, Stanley seriously cries like a 5 month old whimpering puppy. He lays it on real thick...'all day Beck, all day, they smeared snot all over me, yelled at me for eating the diaper again, chased me around, dressed me up, please come take me home to your house.' Because I will tell you that Beck and his wife have some serious malfunctioning attachments to their dogs. If I were to let him, Beck would seriously talk about his dogs all day long. I don't even talk about my kids on a day that they mastered pooping on the toilet as much as he talks about his dogs on just a regular day. I know, it is a little disturbing.

And before meeting them,  I knew that there were people out there who have this attachment to their dogs. You know where you actually think of the dogs while you are away from home all day and miss them, and want to bring them home something special because they are just so good to be in their crates all day patiently waiting for you? So you go to the specialty pet store and you spend an unreasonable amount of money on a treat that tastes just like a filet mignon. When really they would have been just as happy licking their crotches, which cannot be done in a tight space like a crate to its greatest potential. I'm just sayin. But Beck and his wife are the first of this special population that we are friends with. And I love me an animal, I love having pets...but you know what I mean.

And then they wonder why their dogs are high maintenance. Beck and his lady love do not have kids yet. And you know they say that once people who are obsessed with their dogs in this matter have children, the dogs take the back burner. I can tell you whole heartedly, that this will not be the case with them. And that they will read books on transitioning the baby home to make it easier on your dogs. People write these books, and they write them for Beck, who will have anxiety over this matter. He won't think they are too cute when they eat the baby's crappy diaper.

And you know Beck, this is all written as a special thank you for getting my dog all rawled up with your presence and in turn waking up my napping baby.

Oh but today was one of those days, where having a dog is no laughing matter, and as Stanley cowers in the corner, I still send him daggers from my eyes. I mean this was worse them him being on top of the Thanksgiving table searching for leftovers. Yup, just walking right across it like he was asked to lick the plates.

So today, I decided that we needed to go to Target to pick up a few household items. It was me and the boys since Kendall was at school. Stanley had decided to come with us in typical fashion and he is typically a very good listener. So la, la, la. I am getting the boys out and Ethan is trying to decide which 3 Super Heroes he should take into the store like not choosing Elektro or Robin might really hurt their feelings and put them in such a deep sadness that they cannot save the world today. So I say to him, 'Come on, let's go,' and as it is coming out of my mouth I realize as you did too, if you follow Stanley stories, that I have just given him a command. And it is all in slow motion now, like some action movie and I am Jackie Chan and spin around and shout in that monster slow mo voice, 'NNNNNNNNNOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO STTTTTTTTTTTAANNNNLLLLLLEEEEEEY STTTTTTAAAAAAAAAAAAY!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!'

Too late.

I, in complete Mommy Super Hero, action press the remote to shut and lock the doors and as I am doing it I am yelling to Ethan that this is an emergency, and I am throwing my stow away in case of emergency and I need to entertain boys quickly, balls and superheroes from my purse and into the closing doors. 'Play with these Ethan, and don't move from this vehicle and watch your brother.' That's right. I am saying this to a four year old. Where is my five year old when I need her? There was no time to grab a cart, secure the boys and get to Stanley before he was smashed on the parking lot asphalt or worse...

in.the.store.

Oh we have been here before. But in a place where pets were welcome. But today he ran towards the bullseye like there was a whole pound of ground beef in the center for him. I turn quickly and one of Kendall's friends mom is right next to me. I swear she was sent right down from heaven. And we turn and laugh at each other, and then she says, ' I will stay with Jake and E.' As I am rounding the corner, I see the automatic doors to the store open, and no person going in, and my gaze furthers to see Stanley slip sliding all over the linoleum floors at top speed.

I run in, and it was like a movie, people darting, dashing, and diving, ok maybe not diving, after Stanley. An employee turns to me, and I say, 'that's my dog,' and she actually says to me, 'we don't allow animals in the store.' And I just about stop and smack her. Really? Are you sure that Target doesn't allow dogs without leashes just roam the store? I mean what if I had sent him in to pick out his dog food while I waited for him in the van, but he forgot his wallet and that is why I am running after him.

Seriously.

I say, 'Uh yeah, I know that.' Deciding that today would not be the day for assault charges, most especially not at Target since I would be banned from it, and I love that store.

And she goes on her merry way. Could I live in that brain for 5 minutes?

So then another lady says to me, as I am racing after Stanley through the women's department, 'I am really good with dogs,' and I tell her, 'uh, not with this dog.' Now Stanley knows he has really done it and is avoiding me at all costs because he knows I am irate. Ever made your master irate? It's not pretty. And then as Stanley is racing in the other direction, the woman crouches down, and I kid you not, throws herself on top of Stanley. It was one of those moments where I wish that my phone took videos because the entire thing would have went viral in 10 seconds. She is lying now, on top of Stanley, petting him, and whispering to him, 'good boy Stanley, good boy.' I turn my head a little to the side, you know, the position you take when you are trying to see things a little more clearly, to make sure what you are seeing is really happening? Yeah, she is comforting my dog. I grab Stanley, and thank her profusely, and she says, 'oh I love dogs, I have 4, so anything to help a doggy who is lost in a store and frightened.'

Apparently she and Beck have a lot in common.

The Future Wing Bowl Champ is 11 Months

11 months.

He eats more than anyone in this house combined.
No joke. I make more trips to the grocery store for this monster's this and that, because, quite frankly he is eating us out if house and home.

Presently he has a diaper rash that is the size of the state of Ohio because he loves him some oranges. Seems like the citric acid doesn't feel the same way.

I toy back and forth with starting the whole milk now.
'YOU TERRIBLE MOTHER!!!' You scream.
I will have you know that I started all 2 of my other children whole milk just around this time. One continues to love her some milk, the other took the bottle from me at 15 months and went on and all out revolt against milk by throwing it across the room and refusing to let it touch his lips from that moment on. To this day I still beg of him to eat his dairy daily. It's a real great time.

So the jury is still out on the milk issue, as he just downed 12 ounces of formula for his nap.

He will eat just about anything so long as it isn't baby food because it isn't cool to eat pureed turkey with vegetables.

This child has 3 teeth, and he downs anything that crosses his path.


Practicing for the next month at his brother's birthday party.

Helping his sister and brother with their chores of feeding Stanley and Lillian, and taking a taking some nibblets for himself, because yes, he enjoys himself a little snickety snack of dog or cat food.

I am hoping that one day he becomes The Wing Bowl Champion or will go in the Guiness Book of World Records for eating the most hot dogs or something. Right now he would surely be in it and win it for the most goldfish crackers.

You know my aspirations are pretty high.
But beyond all the eating he does, he does not sleep through the night yet either. Ok, I take it back. He sleeps until 5 a.m., but who is jumping out of bed to start the day at 5 a.m. in this house? Unless it involves going to the airport to catch a plane to a vacation, we will stick to our beds at this hour, thank you.

But some quality traits that are positive and not wearing his mother straight into exhaustion are:

He likes to cuddle and give hugs. Most especially to those who don't deserve one like a growling cat or a sibling who doesn't like him touching his super heroes or her barbies.

And he loves to make you laugh. Loves it. Presently he enjoys blowing air our of his nose and sucking it right back up where it came from. And this is fun? Most especially fun when you attempt to do it back to him and snot comes flying out of your nose.

He is obsessed with balls, all balls. Yes, those balls too, but aren't all males? He screams and points at the giant red concrete balls at Target every day, since we are there every day. This morning we let him stand by it, and he tried so hard to push it so he could play with a giant ball of concrete. And was he ever mad that it wouldn't budge.

Kendall asks me all the time, 'Mommy is it hard having 3 kids?'

Some days it is like a marathon. And you just keep going and going and going. But there is a finish line. I have them several times a day with a snuggle, a smile, a thank you, and imitation of something I said or did, a small moment where they help each other.

Because quite frankly 3 is a bit hard. An 11 month old that is never still, even in his sleep, is hard. Putting on 3 sets of clothing, shoes, hair-do's and coats just to get out the door, late, is hard. Feeding a belly that is never ever full is hard.

But I would never ever change it.

Presently hooked up to the coffee IV, and would still never change it.

The Banning of the Fast Food Playhouses

Let me start out by saying that I have heard the stories.
I am fully aware that there have been instances of children barfing on the landings and children running shoeless or on their hands and knees through it.

I know that there are guardians of children that permit their children to bring their food into the play area and then it is smashed all over, and again children are walking and crawling through this food.

I am aware that there have been said instances of leaking diapers, smearing down the slide.

Bon Appetit.

And I'll admit it. Up to this point I have taken my children to this fast food establishments and have permitted them to enjoy the wondrous playhouse.

Never was there an incident.

Ok, so I have been a bit paranoid about the germs and have them use antibacterial hand gel when coming and going through the playhouse. And yes, even if the table appears clean, I clean it first with a wipe, then with some antibacterial spray, and then with another wipe. And then have them eat off of mats made of napkins. I am a big fan of disposable place mats. But who can remember to a.) purchase them and then b.) bring them?

Alright, maybe you can, come get your Mom of the Year trophy.

Let me preface this story again with what led up to our journey to this what will go unnamed establishment for kids meals and playhouse.

We had lost the remote for the Blue Ray Player once again. Knowing that it was somewhere downstairs being used for a phone, and or put away hastily in the wrong spot, I refused to look for it. This has happened like 15 times in the past 3 months, and instead of getting aggravated and going on a mad search through the downstairs. I simply pronounced, 'whomever finds the black remote gets to go on a trip with Mommy to _________.' ( the unnamed fast food establishment) They shared this with everyone, such excitement. But for some reason this went on for 3 weeks. I still refused to look for it. I get agitated when looking for needles in haystacks. I really do, and I know that there is some mental issues in regards to that, because it is more agitated then necessary, however, I simply refused exacerbate this said mental issue, and said, 'good luck my friends, may the best child win.'

So my  friend Sue watches the darlings for us on Monday afternoons while I go and get my weekly spa treatments. Not really, wouldn't that be something though, to actually say that with no qualms about it? Really she is watching them while I go to work until my love gets home from work. I explained to her that they can watch a movie, but will have to endure all of the previews and then you will have to push stop and then play again to get past the main menu, because the remote is lost. The offspring chimed in, 'and whoever finds the remote gets to go to _________ with just Mommy!!!!!!!!!' I seriously think they thought that one day it would just jump into one of their hands because they did not once go on a mad search for it, but their enthusiasm over the prize was huge. I don't really think they got the whole concept.

Amazingly the next morning they proclaim, 'we found the remote!!!'
'Who found the remote?!?!!'
'We found the remote!!!!'
'You found the remote at the same time!??!'
'Uh....yes, we found at the same time!!'
'That's amazing, so you both get to go with Mommy!!'
Such good story tellers.

Later after egging the situation on with such praise and compliments, you know, 'I just can't believe you both found it, that is just so wonderful, I am just so happy for you, you surely deserve this trip,' and things of that nature, Kendall comes to me all guilt ridden.
'Uh Mommy, you know um, well, Sue actually found the remote, but she said that we could both say that we found it so that we could both go to _______.'
'Hmmm, well since you were so honest Kendall, and you know Mommy is all about being honest and telling the truth, I think it is only fair that we go, since the remote has been found and Sue wanted you both to go for her.'
'Awesome.'
We will later address the situation surrounding the prompting of my children lying with a write up, Sue.

So we're there.

I want to first point out my initial annoyance which typically occurs in said playhouse.
The age parameters completely being disregarded.
It annoys me to no end that guardians permit their grown children to play in the playhouse. And they aren't just walking around nicely minding their size and the tiny children underfoot. They are storming through there playing tag and wrestling and pushing and shoving and being all loud.
If they are an older sibling helping the younger sibling navigate the house, well then, I will let them and their kind heart slide.
But this rarely occurs and I just want to say that if you are old enough to read playhouse rules, you should not be in the playhouse.
I'm just saying.

So they play, we get the food, we call them to eat, they shovel it down, ask to play again.
At this point a foul stench begins to overcome the playhouse eating and playing area.
To the point where people are coming in with their food making a funny face, scrunching up their nose, and walking out.

And you know when you are in the smell you don't really notice it all that bad. But Andy who is walking in and out and is the roving reporter when anything is going on definitely smells it. And when Andy knows there is something going on that is affecting everyone around him, he always chimes in, always. He seriously should be on CNN or something.

Andy has me checking Jake's diaper, but it isn't a poop smell, and I really can't smell it all that bad, I haven't left the area, but the diaper was all clear anyway. Andy then has me smelling his feet. Picture: Me leaning over while husband props up foot and me again, sniffing. The things we do. But no, it isn't that either.

Then the crew walks in to 'inspect' the area. They have a mop and their noses, they scan the area like the freakin scent is going to jump out at them and say, 'here I am.' They pronounce they don't see anything, and walk out. You know, perhaps some air deodorizing spray might work in this situation, again I am just saying.

Ethan then walks up to me to tell me something crucial. It is that 'I can't believe this just happened,' face. It is half smirk, half amusement, half astonishment. These are typically great comments.

'Mommy guess what? I just farted like a super big fart and it's so loud in here that I couldn't even hear it!

'That's awesome E, but since you told me, can you still say excuse me?'

'Uh yup, 'scuse me.'

I suppose this was his first experience with the 'don't ask, don't tell,' policy regarding passing gas in public. If they don't know it was you, don't draw attention to it.

And I like couldn't even smell it either.

So then of course he has to use the facilities, and Andy is like, 'that's it we're out you are going to have to hold it E.'

And you know little boys and holding it? Yeah, not gonna happen.

So we run to the bathroom, he is dancing his I have to go to go jig, as I cover the seat with tissue paper. He says his normal line, and I can pretty much recite it as I know he will proclaim it every time, so that all females in there will hear that this wasn't his idea. 'Uh Mommy, it is ok for me to come to the girls room, even though I am a boy, because you are with me and I am too little to go to the boys room by myself, and there are strange people in there when I am not with Daddy.' I think he means strangers, but you know, people are strange too. You've heard the stories.

Then we walk back walk in and the smell hits me and I want to literally vomit. I grab one of the kids sweatshirts to breathe through because you need a gas mask of some sort. I announce, 'pack it up, we are getting out of here this is so gross!!!' And the smell is like dirty socks that have not been washed in seriously five months. You know the ones that have been sitting in the bottom of a gym locker after a serious sweat for the entire school year. And there are children who clearly can read, running through the playhouse at top speed. The culprits.

I tell Kendall that we are going, she is aware of what is going on, not sure where the smell is coming from and says, 'well if you want me to I can check the slide, maybe someone threw up in there, and I can go and tell the workers if I find some in there.'

I thank her for her sacrificial suggestion, but that we will be leaving before that can occur.

We rush out the door breathe in the fresh air, well sort of, it still smells like fast food, you know that fry and hamburger smell that encompasses the establishment in a one mile radius? But it ain't that terrible smell from the playhouse.

I announce, that that is it, we are never going in that dirty place again. No more playhouses at fast food places ever!
They both say, 'yeah that was super smelly gross! But we can go through the drive thru?'
And they have a point.
I mean who can never ever again have fast food fries?
Case Closed.

*And I would like to point out also that with us that evening was a 10.5 month old who ate his entire Kids Meal... we're talking four nuggets, a small fry, and a juice box. He is no joke in the food department.