stealing french fries and emulating pumpkins.

I thiiiink my kids are trying to make me fat.

Let me start by saying that I am relatively concerned with what goes into my kids' adorable little bodies. I mean, they are certainly not on an organic vegan diet, but my husband and I eat well and I definitely go through phases of neurotically counting calories. That said, they get their fair share of grilled cheese and toaster strudels but only because I fear the 3-year-old wouldn't be alive if it weren't for chicken fingers.

So yeah, the tendency to become ginormous is especially easy when you have little ones. For so many reasons. I mean, not only did birthing two babies annihilate my metabolism, but kid food is always amazing and it seems a portion of every kid meal seems to be covered in cheese and/or carbs. And, of course, Averystarvingface can't seem to gag down all of the delicious fried cheesy carby thingy I have prepared, so I feel obligated to stand up for all the emaciated children in Africa and spare no calorie-sprinkled crumb, which includes all completely untouched vegetables (that balances it out, right?). And whenever my kids are sick (which has been constant this month) I can't bring them to the gym. And and and and and McDonald's is soooooooooooo convenient.

Poor Avery. I would always secretly nosh on the fries in her Happy Meal while driving home until one time recently when I omitted the trans fat french fry fest while in a fit of disgust at my eating habits. When I got home and presented her with her "meal" she looked at me in wonderment and surprise and said, "Mama! They gave me so many fries today!"

Poor sweet kid thought Happy Meals came stock with 3 french fries. :(

So, now I get an extra order of fries for myself in order to be a better mother. (?)

And the girl loves her chocolate ice cream.

Exhibit A:

Which, in our climate, is constantly melting, which must be tended to by me personally by ingesting all chocolate drippings because a napkin just can't quite cut it, right? Right.

But, calories come in different forms. Let's not even get into what damage I do when I'm not with the kids in an attempt to enjoy my time without my kids.

Exhibit B:

That's me. And that drink in my hand surrrre isn't an unblended fruit smoothie, you can bet your buttons I didn't have just one.

On another note, look how happy I look! I was freakin' stoked to be having a drink at that moment after the 8 month sick-free run at our house tragically ended with virus after virus after virus for a month, alternating between kids and sometimes overlapping. Which means the lush pictured above hadn't left the house in a while which caused her left eyelid to twitch uncontrollably.

Can't WAIT to get back to the gym tomorrow. Finally have two healthy kids! And once October ends it's not cool to continue emulating a pumpkin. Actually it was never cool, soooo...

The end.

Jerk O Lantern.

So, we went to the "pumpkin patch" today with the kids.

An interesting experience in Las Vegas, mind you. Not only is afore-mentioned patch o'punkins located in a Wal-Mart parking lot, it is still unbearably hot outside, therefore turning what classically thought of as an apple cider-worthy heart-warming seasonal family adventure into a kinda gray, sad, hay-covered, sorta pathetic excuse for someone to make a shit ton of money off imported gourds.

So, after the 10 month old started to show early onset signs of heat stroke, we decided to halve what funds were available from Avery's savings account and buy our four pumpkins to bring home to carve.

We got everything set up outside, and began. We gutted our pretty lil punkins and then I all by myself helped Avery carve her pumpkin. Then I let her take a Sharpee to it. (Which is every 3-year-old's favorite thing to do) Then she got bored with all the magical family bonding time and demanded requested to watch Dora inside while Troy and I continued.

Please note, carving pumpkins and similar activities are probably, like, the most fun thing ever to do according to my husband and me. So, we plopped the baby on the ground and got serious. For a solid 45 minutes, Troy and I absolutely refused to acknowledge that we had children, so we let Ave veg out hard core on the couch while Landon literally played with dirt and probably possibly ate it, while I, at one point, while intently staring at my pumpkin, muttered, very seriously under my breath, "I'm having so much f*(@#ing fun right now."

'Cuz I was. It was amazing. Anyway, at some point, my subconscious convinced me to be a mom again and I had to give up the disturbingly strong desire to bang out an award winning Frankenstein template I printed from the Internet artistic rendering on my pumpkin. Anyway, Troy got to silently finish his supercool carving and I had to hack away at mine with whatever clusters of seconds I was allowed while tending to the kidlets.

So after like 3 hours (definitely exaggerating) Troy showed off his awesome, 3D, sharp-looking pumpkin while he sympathetically looked over mine as if to say "Yup. I'm waaaay better at carving pumpkins."

He even posted a picture of his handiwork on Facebook WITHOUT mine and Avery's (GASP!) surely to spare himself the embarrassment. What the...?

I mean, give me 8 hours uninterrupted carving time just like you had and I'll freak you out, Mr. Husbandpants. Serious.

Anyway, here is a picture of his:

Really cute right?

Anyway, here are our Jacked Up' O Lanterns :(

Liiiike, it's embarrassing.

Anyways, I haven't written a blog post in 9 months... woopsies!