Art, Cardboard, and Possums

The finished product.

Today I decided that my boys were ready to fingerpaint. I am hoping that a lot of Pelstring and a lot of Cornett come through, and that they don't end up like their Mother--struggling to draw a dadgum stick man. Sometimes when I have these bright ideas (the ones that involve activities and babies), I don't really think things through completely (I know, you are shocked). But this time, I was prepared. I had considered everything. Put a smock on them to protect their shirts, stripped them of their pants (paint will wash off of little legs, but who knows if it'll come out of those pants, and clothes ain't cheap!), put a plastic cloth on my table and secured that, and made sure the paint was non-toxic, cause you know those suckers were going to eat that jazz (and they did). 

So, after all that prepping, it was time to paint. I thought they'd have a magnificent time. I mean, I was encouraging them to play with a slimy substance AND to wipe it all over the place. *Sigh* They painted for about 3 minutes before they started screaming and wanting down. 

You're so mean, Mama! Why do you make us paint?!?!

Doug came downstairs and upon seeing the art said, "Did you put goggles on them? What if they had rubbed it in their eyes?" (One thing I hadn't considered.) My response, "I don't know! I guess their eyeballs would've fallen out. It's non-toxic!"

Not in the eyes, but definitely used it to spike his hair. Punk rocker!

Those boys. They have such a hard life. Do you know what a money pit they are? We spend all kinds of money on books, toys, and food, and look how they show their appreciation. They play with an empty apple juice jug and eat cardboard. Oh, but at least I know they love their books.

A Bear and his jug.

She never feeds me. I have to eat shoe box lids.

Jonas in a basket.

I love them so much. Tonight I went to dinner with my dear friend, Tracy. We had a fabulous time, but once it hit 8 o'clock, I was thinking about my rotten little dudes and how I was missing putting them to bed. On my drive home, I hoped that they would be awake when I arrived. Came in the door, and Doogie read my mind, "Jules is still awake if you want to rock him." People, I just want to tell you, there is nothing more precious than rocking my little boys. And one of the cutest things in the entire world is seeing Julian snuggle his possum.

Thanks for the snuggle buddy, Eller!