Boy Toes

The other night, Graysen and I snuggled on the couch together and picked our toes.

She asked, "Mommy...when you were little, did you have toes like your daddy's?"

I started to answer when she interrupted me, "Cause I do."

She let out a long sigh, and a sad look came across her pretty face.

"And that means, someday, I am going to be a boy..."

Because, in case you didn't know, big boys grow out of boy toes, and they take over your person, one puppy dog tail at a time.

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Not how, but why: Defending my little people against a world that hates them.

Yesterday my mom came to town to take the kids on their spring/summer shopping trip. Thanks, Neanie!

I don't know if you fully grasp the circumstances here, but think:

5 year old girl, 3 year boy, 1 year old boy.

Think:

Double stroller containing cranky older kids.

Moby wrap strapping youngest, squirmiest child to my person.

No naps. Distracted supervisors.

Hours of searching through 5T girl's clothes to find outfits that are both trendy and modest.

Judgemental onlookers. Everywhere.

You sitting in my shoes now?

K. good.

Now, despite how stressful that sounds, I actually had a great time.

By God's mercy, I was able to really enjoy my children in the midst of their napless fussiness.

The judgemental onlookers, however, did not seem to be enjoying my children.

In fact, as we stood in line at one particular store, I noticed that the lady behind me was staring.

She was in her late 30's, dressed in Yoga pants and a tight fitting workout top. Her nails were manicured, her make-up meticulously done, and a large swoop of stiff hair supported one rather large, rather expensive-looking pair of sunglasses.

One of her hands held a large pile of women's clothing, the other hand held a smaller hand that belonged to the stretched little arm of the cherub faced little boy who stood next to her.

He stared up at me with a sweet little grin.

I rocked my youngest in my arms, held the hand of my 3 year old- who was crying, and whispered sweet nothings to my 5 year old to keep her from getting restless. My own hair was a mess. Half my make up had been rubbed off by the fussy infant on my chest, and my soccer-mom-white capri's were wearing three, red, ketchup stains that were left there by my french fry-eating 3 year old.

The cashier jokingly asked, "Wouldn't you like 3 more children?"

"I'd love to have 3 more tomorrow." I quickly replied, throwing her a sweet smile just to put the cherry on top.

The woman behind me joined in, "I don't see how you do it...I really don't."

I felt my face go red, but took a deep breath and forced an innocent smile.

"See how I do what?" I asked.

She shifted the weight of the clothes onto her hip. "Have 3 kids." She shot right back. "I have one and he drives me crazy."

My mind sinfully ran through all the quick-witted responses that I could use , but instead, my conscience kicked in and I calmly reminded myself that my words belong to the Lord.

So instead I said, "Well, I really enjoy my children. They are truly a blessing from the Lord."

And that was it.

My husband pointed out later that what she really meant when she said "I don't see how you do it." was, "I don't see why you do it."

Why would you subject yourself to hours of wiping snotty noses, hours of playing referee, hours of changing diapers, hours of washing dirty laundry and cleaning unnecessary messes, hours of endless wining, hours of time spent on everyone and everything-else?

Why?

Well, this is why:

Because creating these three, precious little people, and watching them grow, and holding their hands, and teaching them to pray, and showing them the love of Jesus, and comforting them when they cry, and holding them when they're scared, and kissing them when they're hurt, and showing them how to share, and teaching them how to forgive and to love one another has BLESSED ME with a bigger, fuller, more rich understanding of the Gospel of Jesus Christ than I ever could have gotten from living a life of ease and comfort.

And I am not going to apologize for that.

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Living for the next juicebox

This morning I slept late. And by late I mean, 7.

On mornings that I sleep late, my children either do 1. of 2. things...

1. They stealthily slither down the stairs to chew open Splenda packets and take advantage of my absence.

or

2. They become clingy and insecure, and turn me into a human ant-bed, climbing and crawling all over me before finally wilting their warm, squishy bodies all over me, desperately trying to cover as much of my surface area as possible.

This morning, I was the ant pile.

I woke up covered, bruised, and lacking oxygen. I peeled them off- like wet Band-Aids, and squeezed out from under the covers.

Then I told them to snuggle daddy.

Half asleep, I fell down the stairs, praying the whole time that my muscles would wake up.

Once downstairs, I felt around until I found the coffeepot. And next to it, I found a sad, empty, aromatic bag. No coffee.

Of course my eyes flew open, nervously fluttering around the kitchen.

No Coffee.

You know that dramatic movie scene, where tragedy has happened, and the dude- wrought with pain and hopelessness let's out a "Nooooooooooooooo!" and then he rips his clothes?

That was me.

Until...

I suddenly remembered that small bag of breakfast blend I had stashed in the back of the fridge for just such an emergency.

Like a true addict, I scrambled, half sober, through the refrigerator, spilling things, and knocking things over...

I found my half-empty stash near the back, right where I had left it.

And now, here I sit.

Happily.

Recounting my adventurous morning-tales to you, over this warm, crack-like liquid that I do so amply consume.

And here come my children.

I think Graysen just fell down the stairs. Girl after my own heart.

Straight to the refrigerator and....

A small, panicked voice yells, "Mommy!" The frustrated crying begins, " There's no juice boxes!"

I don't even have to write what happened next. You know.

You know.

By the way, remember that Strawberry Bread recipe I shared with you? An amazing friend photographer just got me a picture for it. Check it out! I know you'll want to make it!

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Puddles and Pottys

If you get all wiggly and awkward when you read words like tee tee, or potty, or poo poo, then you should probably abort reading this post. :) It's not for you.

Which, by the way, I was just told by a new non-southern friend that the word, "tee-tee" is a southern word! In't that weird?? In fact, the way she said it was, "The other day, another lady- not from the south, asked me, 'have you heard them call it "tee-tee" yet'?"

I'm sorry if I just caused you to OD on quotation marks, but I thought that was funny. ha!

Anyway, on to the point of this post...

I'm potty-training my middle child!

And really, there's nothing like potty-training to set your nerves on edge, but keeping a good sense of humor during the process is important. *giggles frantically*

I actually didn't realize that I was on edge until I caught myself rushing to the bathroom in a tizzy after I realized that I needed to go tinkle. Oops, wrong person...

Ha ha. Oh yeah! That 30 second window is actually not as important when it's you that has to "Go"!

Whew. Sigh of relief.

There is something slightly sweet about it too though isn't there?

Potty training reminds me of this verse,

1For everything there is a season, and a time for every matter under heaven: 2 a time to be born, and a time to die; a time to plant, and a time to pluck up what is planted; 3 a time to kill, and a time to heal; a time to break down, and a time to build up; 4 a time to weep, and a time to laugh; a time to mourn, and a time to dance; 5 a time to cast away stones, and a time to gather stones together; a time to embrace, and a time to refrain from embracing; 6 a time to seek, and a time to lose; a time to keep, and a time to cast away; 7 a time to tear, and a time to sew; a time to keep silence, and a time to speak; 8 a time to love, and a time to hate; a time for war, and a time for peace.

Wise words. This is so true isn't it? Our lives are just a sequence of seasons. Good seasons, bad seasons, hard seasons, joyful seasons, seasons of learning, seasons of forgetting, seasons of healing, seasons of peacemaking, seasons of resting.

Knowing this sort of makes me sad for the seasons that have already come and gone...while at the same time, I'm happily anticipating other seasons yet to come.

But it definitely takes some of the stress OUT of potty-training, doesn't it? And in a strange way, it makes you want to stop and savor the cute, little puddle next to the potty. Cause next season, it (probably) won't be there.

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A big Battle with little People

Do you ever go to war with your children?

I do.

This week has been a battle of control.

A losing battle for all parties. My children have sensed weakness in me. They know when I am tired and overwhelmed, and they push the boundaries. They see how far they can make me bend before I snap...and snapping is inevitable at this pace. And also unGodly.

Ahh the great conundrum.

(And to all you young, hipster, postmodern mommies who are thinking, "Um, you really shouldn't try to control your children. They aren't objects." --this is what I have to say to you....ha hA HA HA HA HA. Sorry. But no, really. HA HA.

Onward--

So I think I have developed, or picked up, a few strategies that are helpful. I thought I would share.

At the point in the battle when you feel you have lost all control, your children have stopped responding, you feel overwhelmed and defeated...

1. Pray. This is a battle you cannot win. Go to the throne of grace and beg for God's mercy. You are unable, but He is able! And remember, your actions are not reactions to your children's unholiness, but a reaction to the Gospel. You are capable of training and discipling your children by the power of the Spirit who is at work within you. Call out to Him for help- it is your greatest asset!

2. Facilitate an outlet. Are you stir crazy? They probably are too! This would be a great time to take them to a park or let them romp in your backyard. You don't have to stay indoors and watch while they tear down the walls brick by brick. Get them out of the house and into a place where they can be crazy and destructive. Let them play in the mud and cake it over every surface of their tiny bodies...sometimes that is healthy. I mean, grown women pay to have mud spread all over their faces. That stress-releasing-tradition started somewhere, right? Sometimes I even take my 5 year old outside and make her run laps. Sounds mean, but she actually loves it. And when she comes back inside, she has run all her crazy out.

3. Divide and Conquer. Do you have more than 1 tiny person? Because I do. And let me tell you, there is strength in numbers. Separate the tiny people, and you weaken them. Did you know...it is okay to ask your child to spend time alone? For a long time, I had a very unrealistic sense of guilt for asking my children to spend time away from me. That is absurd. Put one child in his/her room for 30 minutes and let one play in the living room. Then switch. If you have time, spend some one on one time with each child- reading, coloring, playing with play dough...this might be a good stress relief for you too! Or ask them to play separately and alone. This is not child neglect. It is good for them to learn independent play!

4. Rethink your House Rules.

(This is advice from my husband-picked up from the Desiring God conference) Your job as a parent is not to make your children conform to the law, but to love the law. Is your house a house full of yes's? Or No's? Do you feel like you are punishing your children for everything that they do? Maybe it is time to rethink your house rules. Your house should be a house full of yes's. This allows you to discipline less, but be firm when you do have to discipline. Think of the garden of Eden. Everything was there for their pleasure, with the exception of one tree. And that tree had serious consequences--death. (This is not me endorsing Capitol punishment for your children.) You can see that our God is a God who delights in our pleasure. He has bestowed on us blessing after blessing, so we as parents should delight in bringing our children happiness. Let them be children. Without giving away your authority, limit the scope of the law to a point that they can begin loving it. Once they appreciate the law's boundaries, you can expand the boundaries with them as they grow. This will probably mean channeling your own creativity to provide them with things to do--in other words, more yes's.

Hopefully these strategies will be helpful for you as you fight for the control of your household.

"Strength and dignity are her clothing, and she laughs at the things to come." Proverbs 31:25

Do you veterans have any additional strategies that might be helpful to those of us who are still in the trenches? If so, please share!

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The Death of P.B.

Today, we lost our beloved "pink blanket".

"Pink blanket" has been with us for over 4 years now. And today, I killed it.

I did something dumb and left a casserole dish on the stovetop. I then turned on an eye thinking I was going to boil some bottles.

Well, I guess I turned on the wrong one, because 5 minutes later we all hit the deck when we heard what sounded like a gunshot in the kitchen.

Glass everywhere.

And as I looked around at my glass covered kitchen, I saw it. "Pink blanket."

Lying there, covered in molten glass and biscuit. So. Sad.

I cried and sucked my thumb for thirty minutes before I could

compose myself enough to tell Graysen, my daughter.

If your kids have blankets, you know, it is not just a blanket.

As my husband sensitively put it, "It's like you killed the family pet."

Thanks.

But I told her. We cried. We said our goodbyes. We ceremon

iously put it in the trash can. Then we immediately looked online to find a new "Pink Blanket".

After we had found one, Graysen looked at me and said, "Mom, I need three things to make me feel better...First, I need to talk about what happened. Then, I need a new pink blanket. And then, I need hot tea."

The girl grieves the same way I do: Talk/process, shop, drink warm beverage...repeat process until warm and fuzzy.

We're picking up the car from dad over his lunch break. I'm taking the girl shopping.

We'll probably stop by Starbucks on the way home...for her sake.

Goodbye, beloved P.B. You served us well.

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Homemade Baby Food

I am making homemade baby food today...woohoo!

My pup hasn't actually eaten any of it yet, so that will be the true test, but it is so much healthier and CHEAPER!

If you haven't tried it and you're interested, try it! It is so easy!

But anyway, I am using my blender, because I don't actually have a food processor. :( (Donations are welcome!)

Anyway, Graysen is pretending to make her own baby food in the room next to me.

So cute!

But midway through me pouring some pureed carrots into an ice cube tray, Graysen comes to me and says(very snobbishly),

"Mommy, you should really try the 'Baby Bullet'. It works so much better. My baby food tastes so much more yummy."

?

How are you in-the-know about homemade baby food?!

And... uh, Graysen...What's a Baby Bullet? Are they expensive?

*This is my first time making homemade baby food, but if your interested and would like some info, inbox me or shoot me a message! :)

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poor lil clabbered chirrin

My kids watch a lot of tv.

That being said, I do try to make sure that they watch the "classics" so that when they are 20 they can call themselves "cultured". (as in, polished...or sophisticated... not as in clabbered...or curdled.)

We typically aren't the type family to stick a movie in the player and watch it on repeat until we can recite it word for word. (Unless it's Tangled)

So the movies that we watch are all slurped up and thrown into one big melting pot in our minds...

The result being that we sometimes confuse characters and plot lines.

Not sure what exactly the combination here is...but this is what I heard today:

Graysen, just ran through the room singing, "I'm off to see the lizard...the wonderful lizard of Oz!"

Poor chirrin... their cultural references are all blurry.

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A day in the life of an Egyptian...

"This is the face Pharaoh made to Moses and Aaron when they asked him to free their people."

"I've decided there should really just be one Pharaoh...here, you be a peasant."

"Hey, hey! Take my picture while I dance around like a crazed Egyptian!"

"Oh, these pictures are going to come back to haunt me!"

"Uh, Mom. Egyptian boys don't pose for pictures. They battle crocodiles and throw rocks at girls and...stuff."

"Homeschooling is exhausting. We need rest. And juice."

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Ancient Egypt

There's a new pharaoh in town...she's sassy and sweet...she likes chicken and dumplins and pink nail polish...her hobbies include playing Rapunzel, dancing like no one's watching and picking her toes. People are calling her "the new Gift of the Nile".


Look out Ancient Egypt...here she comes. Pin It

Word Problems

Graysen and Noah have been terribly disobedient this morning!

They have just had "bad hearts" as I like to say...and my heart has been pretty bad too.

I have been really convicted lately of my do-it-myself-state-of-mind, you know, my striving to conquer sin without God's help.

So I've been trying to go to God for repentance, and also to ask Him for the grace I need to conquer these sins and change my heart.

So that is exactly what I did this morning. I stopped Gray and Noah and we all three confessed our sin to God. Then I prayed for us that God would pour out His grace on us, so that we could fight and conquer sin.

After the prayer, this is what Graysen said:

"Mommy! I had a bad heart, but now I am obeying! God poured out His seasoning on me!"

Poured out His what?

"His seasoning..."

Like...paprika?

Uh, we might need to go at this conversation again. Pin It

Like Mother, Like Daugher

Tonight we had a cookout with some RTS families. Most of them are townhome residents alongside us. It was a blast!

The food was great(thanks Branden and Renee Henry), the fellowship was great, the weather was...well, it was really stinkin hot...but the food and fellowship were great!

The kids swam in the neighbors' pool, so needless to say, we stuck them in baths as soon as we got back home.

Noah begrudgingly took his bath and was soon-after deposited into his bed.

Afterwards, Graysen was plopped into the tub by her daddy while mommy sat on the couch and drooled cleaned up the dinner mess in the kitchen.

All the way up the stairs to the bathtub, Graysen whined and complained and relentlessly nagged Brandon about some imaginary promise that he had made her regarding a pop-ice.

So, lovable sucker that he is, Brandon finally gave in and told her he would go get her a bleepity-bleep pop-ice. Okay so he probably didn't bleepity-bleep at her, but you know he thought it....hehe

He finished running the water and walked into the bedroom to finish taking care of Noah, and this is what he heard...

"Oh, Daddy..." You can imagine her teeny little voice trailing into the room.

Brandon sighs..."Yes, Graysen?"

(Insert a tiny "ahem") "The pop-sickles are downstairs."

And what does Brandon do? He comes downstairs and smacks me... Pin It

Lovin' the smell of notebook paper in the morning!

We're closing in on the start of the school year! Woohoo! (We start in mid July because it is so unimaginably hot here in Mississippi that the poor lil chirrin can't even play outside...so they might as well be inside gettin' an education!)

I am "can't-sit-in-one-place-for-too-long" excited. Here's what a typical morning looks like for me right now:

Wake up. chug down coffee. make second cup of coffee. chickens are up-feed chickens. subdue chickens. reheat coffee. lesson plan. change diaper. feed baby. clean up the chicken's messes.reheat coffee again. back to lesson plans. gather craft materials. download and print off an obscene number of household organizational sheets. feed chickens again. drink cold second cup of coffee. put baby down for nap. lesson planning.

Of course this goes on and on, but you get the idea!

So, since I have decided to share the rest of my crazy world with you, I thought you should be able to follow The Morgan school-house too.

Here is what we will be doing this year!

Tapestry of Grace will serve as our primary curriculum. The focus is redemptive history, so from this we will be learning history, Bible history, geography, and vocabulary. This is classical homeschooling at its best, people! We will also be working through Teach Your Child to Read in 100 Easy Lessons, Nature Portfolio, and the Math u See Primer. The kids will also have hands-on work boxes to do...ya know, in all their free time...

What's that you say?

Pshhhh, of course I know my kids are only 4, 2 and 4 months. What can I say, I'm ambitious! I can handle it! (laughs nervously)

I'm an adept planner. And I'm juggle savvy.

I do tend to try and juggle a lot...often more than I can handle. And usually, if you pull out one thread, the whole darn sweater falls apart.

So hopefully I can hold it all together without losing a thread... without

dropping a ....without the whole Opera falling apart.

If I can't handle it, you can all have a nice little chuckle at my enthusiastic, overly-ambitious, mommy fail.

And at that point, look out your window. You'll be able to see a colorful mushroom cloud hovering in the sky above our tiny Morgan townhome.

Get your popcorn ready...3 weeks til the show starts.

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Wash Wash Wash

The other day, Graysen and I were standing at the sink together.

She was spraying bubbles in the sink with purple-food-coloring-water while I loaded the dishwasher.

I left the sink to grab the new plastic cups that she and I had picked out at Kroger earlier in the day, and then loaded them in the dishwasher. spray spray spray

She scrunched up her nose at me and asked, "Mommy, why are you putting those new cups in the dishwasher?"

Obviously, they didn't appear to be dirty.

"Well..." I began, "They probably have big scary germs all over them...people have had their yucky, dirty, unwashed hands all over these cups." I made sure to be emphatic about each word as I loaded last cup in the dishwasher.

I saw the little light bulb go off. spray spray

"Oh." She said. spray spray spray "Like yours?"

Uh....sure. Pin It

Strawberries

This morning, I made strawberry and cream cheese pastries for breakfast. YUM!

I thought they were heavenly. Graysen, thought she'd rather have cereal.

I sat the kids up with their breakfast in front of the tv this morning so that I could do a Bible study in the dining room where it was somewhat quiet.

Not five minutes in, Graysen came in crying.

"Mommy, I just need to tell you that this thing has strawberries in it and I can't like strawberries."

I reply that strawberries are good for you and they make you big and strong (which is what she cheerily says about the desserts that she enjoys. hehe)

She then slowly starts to back out of the kitchen, barely holding it together. She tries to convince me one more time by saying, "Mommy, when I eat strawberries, my leg and my arm and my head and my back, uh my leg, uh, it don't work and it make me fall down!" She breaks down into a whiny cry at the end.

Obviously, my initial response was laughter, but i held it in and stared her down with fierce determination.

She slowly backed out of the dining room, making eye contact the entire time- her awkward little limbs bumping into things on the way out...

Then half way through the kitchen, she pauses--still looking me in the eyes, and she falls out flat on the floor. Flat on her back. Staring up at me with wily eyes. (must have been the strawberries...you know I have heard they've been known to make legs and other body parts stop working...)

I hold strong and continue the stare down, despite my desire to laugh. We go on like this for a good 60 seconds or so...

She (I guess) realizes that I have not been fooled, and stands up. She nervously and awkwardly looks around, and then scampers off like a wounded cat.

What...?

Eat strawberries with caution, and at your own risk this season.

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Not for your edification...just your entertainment.

The other day, Brandon and I were flipping through Netflix to see what was on, when we ran across this obscene movie cover.

It was obviously anime, and boldly sitting on the front cover was a half-naked woman!

In total shock I exclaimed, "Oh my goodness! Is that dirty anime?" (BTW--I only know what dirty anime is because I attended college for a brief stint. Also, I was an art major. Just sayin...in case you might think....nevermind.)

So anyway, Brandon quickly scrolls off the page.

Unfortunately, Graysen was sitting next to him on the couch, and nothing escapes her attention.

I looked at Brandon, mouthing Oh my goodness once again, when Gray says, "Mommy, I want to watch that one!"

Brandon and I both explain that that is not a good movie, and Graysen retorts with, "Awe...but I love dirty anime."

Oh, ****. Pin It

Feathers feathers everywhere- As far as the eye can see.

Yeah...so today I took a trip to Kroger to get groceries, (which for me is like payday...oh yeah!) and when I returned, I found that a small, Graysen-like explosion had gone off in our house.

Luckily, everyone survived--with the exception of the hot pink feather boa that Gray received for Christmas, which had molted on every visible surface of our house.

I choked back the flames that were slowly igniting in my sinful, justified little heart, and calmly demanded that Graysen pick them all up and put them in the trash.

Reasonable...right?

I spun on one heel and returned to the kitchen to gloat over my fresh green beans and granola bars. (What a wonderful job I had done buying groceries! Oh come on...ladies, you know that feeling! You know what I'm talking about!)

After almost an hour of checking on Graysen, who had cleaned up nothing, I pulled out the big threat. "Graysen, I am going to throw away every toy that I find on this floor!"

She immediately started crying...though not moving.

She looks up to me and says, "Mommy...I figured it out. I've realized that this is just one big, bad dream."

"What is a big, bad dream?"

She grunts--still not moving a muscle--and says, "Having to pick up all these feathers. It's just a terrible dream!" She then bursts into tears.

Trying not to smirk at her obvious over-dramatization, (wonder where she got that?)I reply, "Well you shouldn't have unleashed your passive aggressive on the feather boa." It's messy.

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Place your order.

So Brandon, Graysen and Noah have all been sick.

Well, yesterday, Gray turns to me and says, "Mommy, I would like some homemade chicken and rice soup!"

And I reply, "Of course, baby! I'll make you some."

She then turns to her daddy and says, "Daddy, I ordered chicken and rice soup...what do you want?"

Brandon gasps and looks at me, then says, "Graysen! You don't say ordered! You say asked...you asked your mommy to make you some soup."

Graysen then looks at me, shrugging nonchalantly. She responds, almost in question form, "Well, yeah. Okay, but I just ordered some?"

She looks at the shocked expression on Brandon's face before looking back at me like, "what. is. the. big. deal?!".

Brandon, who is obviously "running on half a tank" skips straight on over all the speech-making and arguing, and in a voice of authority and declaration says, "Graysen...your mommy is not a drive through!"

(Word...I hear that.)

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"Baby dry"

This post is dedicated to my wonderful Aunt Peggy, who supplied me with a whole CASE of "Baby dry" Pamper's diapers. Thank again, woman. You are awesome. :)

So the irony of Pamper's "Baby dry diapers" is that, should your little boy baby somehow wriggle his little boy baby parts out of the "Baby dry" diaper in the middle of the night, both baby and the mommy sleeping in close proximity turn out to be not so dry...much less "baby dry". However, the "Baby dry" diaper, did remain "Baby dry".

So...I wouldn't so much call it false advertisement, so much as it is just a little misleading.

Funny thing is, when you're awakened at 3 am and have a six week old baby, there are very few things that can persuade you to actually pursue consciousness and get up, other than the before-mentioned six week old baby.

So when I suddenly awoke at 3 am this morning and noticed that the front of my t-shirt was all but soaking wet, I thought perhaps I had been sweating in my sleep...yeah, kinda gross. But baby hormones do strange things to one's body, so it was totally a possibility.

It was only when I got up three hours later that I realized the baby was soaking wet also. And when I removed the wet outfit, realized that his little boy part had somehow worked its way out of the now half-removed "baby dry" diaper. Tinkle. I slept in a puddle of tinkle long enough that it was completely dry by the time I got up...

Mommy sleep...it is hardcore dude.

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Happy New Years!

Today for lunch as I was dropping hot dogs into boiling-lava-hot water, Graysen meanders up to me and asks casually, "Mommy, what are you making?"

To which I reply, "Oh I'm just making you some lunch. Hot dogs and mac and cheese...yum!"

Graysen wrinkles her nose and paces back and forth across the kitchen floor. She stops, asking with a gulp, "Mommy...Is this hot dog and mac and cheese soup?"

My new years resolution-suggestion of Graysen...buy a cookbook.

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