Overheard

I took the boys to see Lion King, the musical, this past weekend.

In preparation, we borrowed a copy of the movie and watched it multiple times so they were familiar with the story, because (gasp), they had never seen it. Oh, I tried when Carter was little, but it seems like my boys only like the Pixar Disney flicks and none of the older ones--except for Peter Pan (but that has pirates in it, of course). They have a very discerning taste when it comes to style of animation--or whatever.
But they really enjoyed the movie. They started growling alot (ok, more than usual) and pretending they were "the red one" (Mufasa) or the bad uncle (Scar, obviously), etc. when they would play throughout the day. The night before the play, I let them watch a little bit of the show right before bed. I was doing a little laundry and caught a piece of their conversation as they watched the scary part where Mufasa dies. It went like this:
M: Carter, I am the red one.
C: I'm Simba. Hey Mufasa, you're going to die.
M: (grief stricken) Oh, I am! I am going to die! Oh no!
C: Mufasa (with real emotion), here it goes!
M: (in anguish) Ahh! I'm dying! Simba, I'm dying. Oh. Now I'm dead.
C: Yeah.
M: Simba, why do you look so sad?
C: Because you're dead, Mufasa.
M: Look, Simba. You're trying to snuggle with me. But I'm not snuggling back. Because I already died. Are you so sad?
C: Yeah. I might cry (convincingly).
M: Mmmm . . . I'm tired of being the dead red one. Now I'm a hynedo (hyena). I'm going to get you, Simba!
And on it went. It was HILARIOUS. They were very in to it.
I was a little worried about taking them to the play (It was a full on Broadway performance in a nice theater, and Matt was at youth conference), but it was so fun! The actors dance in the aisles, and the costumes are AMAZING. (the pics don't do it justice--to see more, go here. My boys were enthralled for 3/4 of the show. And then they both promptly fell asleep (it was about 9:30). At the same time. On me. (A fact they adamantly and indignantly denied the next day.)
I was so proud of them--they were very well behaved (the girl next to me might have begged to differ, but for C and M, they were AWESOME). Thanks for Grandma Smith for the tickets!

WWF

What does your family do on a slow Sunday afternoon? After a few hours of pirating, rescuing, and general mischief, Carter and Mac resorted to a good ol' wrastle. This was about 10 minutes into it, so you can tell they were losing their steam. But pretty funny stuff.

What is it . . .

with boys and war paint???

Seriously, I ask you?

Sooooo tragic . . .

That my camera ran out of batteries. Because I had the most fantastic hairstyle this afternoon.

I was tired (can't seem to go to sleep before my night-owl husband does) and so I set the kids up with watercolors and tried to lay down for a minute. Carter came in a few minutes later reporting that he painted on a couple of things he wasn't supposed to, but "is that ok and can we be friends again?" After we resolved that, Mac came in a few minutes later and declared that he had drawn on his beloved blankies with a pen, "but only a little bit."

So I gave up on a nap and instead let the kids play hairstylist. Lately, Carter asks if he can brush my hair right after I finish doing it in the morning, and I usually am not so keen on restyling my hair. So I told them to go for it. Four brushes, two picks, a comb, several bobby pins, some hair jaws, and thirty minutes later, I looked totally amazing and had fantastic material for a blog post.

The following are excerpts from my styling session (I finally started taking notes--it was so funny):

C: Mom, when I do it like that, your hair looks like the pointy roof on a house. (hair parted down the middle and teased for volume)

M: Mom, don't you just love to have your hair all tangled?

C: If you go to the store like this, everyone will think you are so beautiful.

M: Um, mommy, I can't get my brush out of your hair.

C: Mom, did you want your hair to look like this today, but you didn't know how to do it?

I started telling them how their mom cuts their hair, but lots of kids and parents go to a store called a salon to get their hair done. I tried to explain highlights to them:

C: So do they use spray paint to do the colors?

M: Mom, can we paint your hair?

C: When you sit in that chair, do they really put a washing machine on your head? (I was trying to explain the hair dryer-apparently it didn't translate.)

So yeah, if you were to see me on the street this afternoon, I might look a little odd, but hey, my kids think I am beautiful.

Our pals ...

Meet our new friends, the Evans family. Camryn, Daryn, Tyler, and Abby. As cute and as fun as they come.

We had a playdate, and we indoctrinated them quickly. Here is how it went: the firefighters put out the fire on the fire engulfed building. They pulled out the wounded victim (me), and then the paramedic gave me excellent medical care. Then the policeman identified that the fire was caused by an arsonist, and he went after the crook.

And then they switched costumes and did it all again.

Mac's new best friend, Abby. Can't go to nursery without her.

Last week, we went to the "train park" with them, and we had a blast!

Tyler and Carter in jail.

Tyler and beautiful Daryn on the carousel.

And yes, the moms went on all the rides too. (But Mac told me he wanted me "off his horse" one minute into the ride.)

Carter and his new pal, Camryn. (Mac calls her Camera.) That Carter, he always goes for the older women.

Tell me . . .

Is it possible for three-year-olds to survive on edamame alone? Because mine is trying to.

Pumpkin Patch Play Day

This post is a little out of order--should have come before all the halloween stuff. But the pictures were cute enough I had to post it. We found the greatest pumpkin patch--yeah, it took us 45 minutes to get there, but gas is cheaper here. So why not?

Who do you think weighs more? Umm, it's getting pretty close!

Gee, thanks, Mom. I just love being a sunflower.

Follow me, Carter.

Any of you think you could keep up with Carter in a gigantic corn patch?

Wait for me, Carter!

They had a great tractor-barrel-train thing. The boys loved it.

For the record, I took a ride too.

And I was just as nervous as Mac was that we were going to tip over

when he took the sharp turns.

Seriously. I was gripping the sides of my bovine-painted barrel.

Do our faces look pink to you? It was only 95 that day. We were hot, sweaty, dirty, sticky (popsicles) ... and totally happy.

Now we get down to the real point of the trip. The Best Pumpkin Ever.
Checking out the options.

Got it. Now roll up your sleeves, got to get it to the car.

Returning the wagon. And the brother.