Getting My Game On

On Sundays, we go "Tech-free" as a family.  No computers, TV, iPods, etc.  Basically anything with a screen is off limits.  I expected the kids to riot, but they love it.  I have the hardest time of anybody.  I admittedly sneak away with my iPod now and again for a quick glimpse of the internet . . . just to make sure it's still there.  But aside from my twitching, it has been a WONDERFUL thing in Jinxieville.  So what to do with the time?

Church, nap, read, nap, talk, nap, play games, nap, explore the yard, nap . . . that kind of thing.

Today we played two of my favourite games:

Bananagrams.  Best.game.evarr.

Rory's Story Cubes.  Truly fun (and hilarious!) for all ages.

I'm not sure if it's because we tend to play it on Sunday, but Chase concludes each of his stories with "Amen" instead of "The End."  So we usually hear something like this:  "...an' then the aliens killed me with a magunet an' then eated a dead fish.  Amen!"

Works for me!  I'd love to hear a sacrament talk that goes like THAT!

Jinx-o-Lanterns

For the past few years, we painted pumpkins.  I like paint.  Paint is more creative.  

Paint allows for individuality.  Paint is EASY.  

But this year, I thought I'd dive back into the carving club.

Chase was all a-go.

And that's the last I saw of Chase concerning "his" pumpkin. 

Scout dove right in.

You might not know this by now . . . 

but Scout is all about dramatic effect with the pics I take of him.

He was QUITE happy with how his "Bonehead" turned out.

This was the first time for both Scout and Sprout to carve their own pumpkins.  

I am pleased (oh boy am I pleased) to say that they truly did do it on their own, 

past my help in scraping the insides out a bit.

How perfectly perfect that Sprout's pumpkin was full of . . . SPROUTS!

It's almost scary how perfect hers was.  She's so careful about things, it blows me away.  

See "Chase's" pumpkin behind hers?  With the flamey-like eyes?  

Yeah, I think I broke about five pieces off of those flippin flamey eyes.  

Who came up with the idea for flamey eyes?   Flamey eyes are NOT FUN!  

And neither of those middlins made a single mistake. 

Sprout's was freakishly smooth and, well . . . I don't think it could have BEEN more perfect.  

Maybe she'll be a surgeon some day.  Wouldn't that be something.

So, remember the pumpkin patch?  

I picked out a freaky, bumpy one for Vee, knowing she'd love the uniqueness of it.  

And she did!  

UNTIL she found out that those freaky bumpy pumpkins have an INSANELY thick skin.  

She struggled over that thing for more than an hour and got NOWHERE with it, 

past scooping it out and making a bunch of scratches.  It was so frustrating!  

So we agreed to STAB that brute for the pure injustice of it all.  

Freaky bumpy pumpkin MUST BE PUNISHED.

So while she was at a school event, I whipped out the power tools 

and DRILLED that blighter.

And then I slapped a freaky face on it with my paints.  

And of course . . there was the stabbing.    Quite satisfactory, that.

 I brought it inside for our Church's Fall Festival, and lo and behold .  . . it WON!

 Stoopid freaky, bumpy pumpkin with insanely thick skin.

Scout felt it needed a little something after we returned home:

Punkin Patch 101

The weather was brilliant a week before Hallowe'en and I had kids who needed something to doooooo.  Our annual trip to a pumpkin patch was in order.  So we plotted planned, packed and pranced paraded pirouetted trucked on over.  

What I learned at the Punkin Patch:

That it's excruciating trying to get three children to take a decent picture together.

That two trembly, squealing preteens can turn into "I'm too cool for my shirt" in the time it takes to say "cheese."

That I'll probably NEVER get him to stop jumping on the furniture after this.

That a tractor AND train combined is a dream come true.

That little orange balloon poodles are adorable.

That a big black balloon "sword" is obscene.  Who can look at this and NOT think, "oh look!  I giant inflatable penis!"  It's wrong.  Wrong, I tell you.  And yet balloon people all over the world continue to torture parents by arming eager young battle-hungry boys with this design.  To make matters worse, Scout became fascinated with the squeakity sound as he ran his hand up and down, up and down.  And I'm still traumatized at the image of him clutching it between his legs so he could open his water bottle with both hands.  Surely there is a warrant out for our arrest by now.

That Sprout really isn't into the whole "balloon popping" thing.  But it gave me an idea.

That "accidentally" popping a giant inflatable black penis and insisting it was the instability of the design actually works!

I also learned that my kid is weird.

That it can be quite convenient to lock older children into a large hay-filled barn while dealing with Mr. Grumpipants.

That animals are funneh!  Even if they do smell like putrid shoe.

That the orange pig is definitely the kewtest animal at the punkin patch.

That Sprout is ten times more athletic than poor Scout.

But that the youngest can outrace them all!

That Chase lasts about two hours at the Punkin Patch before he falls apart.  Hugely.  But he did last through the painting of this "fwog."  I wonder if he was really expecting a scarecrow?

That inevitably, the one who truly CARES about what the face painted picture looks like will get the amateur with the artistic capabilities of a kindergartner.  And the one who would be thrilled with anything gets the one who has a basic idea of what she's actually doing with a brush.

That it's so much more fun to meander through a maize maze with good friends!

That . . . . I have nothing to say about this one.  ::scratches head::

That the slide on the left hurts your butt.

But the one on the right is fine.

That a 3yo NEVER gets tired of racing down a kickin' black tube with a freaky weird scarecrow on top and mountains of hay to scramble around in most joyfully.

That having older kids rawwwwks!

That a picture can completely change perceptions.  Looking at this pic, you'd think, "oh how cute!  He's so enthusiastic!"  Lies, all lies!  He was DESTROYED by this point, and raced away from me (FAR away from me) screeching the whole time that he "cannae fine punkins!!!!!!"

That five hours at a punkin patch, no matter how much it rawks, is just a tiny bit TOO long.

But worth it!

That a 3yo can fall into a deep sleep within 45 seconds of buckling into his carseazzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzz.