Toys Find New Home

A few weeks ago a neighboring subdivision was have a HUGE GARAGE SALE!!! Are they really selling huge garages? I also like signs that advertise HUGE Multi-Family Sale! I wonder what a multi-family is going for these days.

Anyway, I went to the HUGE GARAGE SALE!! To see if anyone might be selling a really cute dresser to put in my boys room. We drove through the curvy wooded drives checking out the junk, the rif-raf, the discards that people wish you would pay for, the damaged goods and the mid 80's decor in mauve, beige and gray. I was just about ready to offer people my truck to haul their crap to the dumpster when we located a heaven on earth for boys.


An older woman sat reading a book, sitting beside her were several Rubbermaid containers full of joy. One container had nothing put Playmobile, another full to the brim with Legos and the last one was all Lord of the Rings action figures. She had a table full of PlayStation games and on the ground laid roller blades and baseball gloves. Every item was in pristine condition. I was afraid to ask her what had happened to the children that these wonderful and obviously expensive toys belonged to. She must have seen the concern on my face because she offered up that her only child, a son, was now 16 and had outgrown these toys.


My 11yo son was with me and I let him choose what he wanted to bring home. We are now the proud owners of a bunch of Lord of the Rings characters and a new PlayStation game. I was the greatest mom in the world for bringing those toys home and now they are spread all over my house, being utterly destroyed.....as all good toys should.


The one toy in the box that I could have lived without is this one...

But why April? It looks like a glob of spinach around an egg. What's so wrong with that?

Well, it's not spinach, but egg might be sort of correct.

It's the birth of an Ork thingy. And it wins the title "Creepiest Toy Ever Made".

Of course my boys love it. Well, they love it until their sister makes blueberry buckle. What does that have to do with a gross toy? Everything. You see the gross birth-of-a-demonic-creature toy was sitting on the kitchen counter when my 5yo begged to have a helping of his sister's homemade yummy dessert.

Only when he saw the blueberry buckle and the toy side by side.....they sort of looked similar, and then he couldn't bring himself to eat any of that buckle. I must say I had a hard time stomaching it too.

Nice People do Nice

Check out my linkage. See? If you are brave enough to ask...you may just get linked on my oh-so-humble bloggage. I was surprised by some of the passion that was unleashed by that post.

Uh, Tim and Faith, forgive me. I put you right under Pioneer Woman...I think ya'll will get along just fine there. You know country neighbors, they're the bestest.

Are any of you feeling left out? Yes? Well, I won't know it, unless you speak up, so you still have time. Speak! Speak Bloggers! Speak! Good Bloggers.

Pottery, Metal Works and Poultry

Time for a pottery class update. Calm down, I know, it's exciting. Okay, I'm gonna need everyone to just sit down and take deep breaths, because you are about to behold some of the most excruciatingly awesome pots ever made.

Here my priceless gems are sitting on the rack covered in glaze and waiting to be gently lowered into a kiln to be fired. See the one in front that is sort of bowlish-spittoonish? That was probably my nicest piece, note I said was. Ike dropped it on the way out of the studio when I went to pick up my finished pieces. Poor guy, he was so distraught. Lesson: do not take children with you to pick up your pottery.

Ink pot and Wobbly Bowl...I know, cute eh?
Ellen claimed these bowls for herself, she's really likes the ink pot, I think it's just the right size for earrings.

Superman and Strange-Squished-Bottom Spittoon

This is Seth's favorite.... but, the Superman belongs to Ike.


Flower pot and Syrup Pitcher
Ike got dibs on the pitcher.

Disaster. This piece I spun right off the wheel while I was learning how to trim, but I made it into "Art". I think it will be stored under the kitchen cabinet with a rusty Brillo pad in it.

I have lots and lots and lots more that I made, so many that I don't reamember what most of them look like. But, alas they are not quite finished or I can't find them on the pottery shelf with the other student's work.

And in other news....

These sweet fence finials I bought at the Gypsy caravan. Look at those forms. Aren't they lovely?

Maybe someday, I'll have a garden gate that I can adorn.

Chickens adorning TBLDBT.

Changes in the Aprilsphere

Hello April Shower's Readers,

I've made a couple changes here for safety reasons. I took down the links of people I know personally that may not want their sight to be any thing more than a personal blog for their family and friends.

I know it sounds silly to take down links of people that I enjoy reading and actually know in person, but since my traffic has picked up here a tiny bit I didn't want them to have any unwanted traffic on their sights. Which, when I think about it, is weird to not want traffic on a blog since it is such a public display of exhibitionism of sorts. But, I still don't wish fame on folks that don't intend for their blog to be anything more than a little place to talk about their humble musings and life debacles.

So, if you want me to link you back up, then you'll need to bake me a cake, or offer to clean my toilets for the next twenty odd years or just ask me very nicely...in a British accent and I'll put you back where you belong.

Aaaaand if you are still holding a privileged spot over there in my side bar, but wish to God in Heaven that you could be removed, but are very sheepish about approaching a very loud-mouthed blogger woman that may sick her chickens on you if you so dared to ever ask her to do such a thing, then arm yourself with some gumption and just say something like, "April, get me off the list, I don't want to be listed, I feel exposed and uncomfortable and in all ways naked, so take me down! I want off, stop the bus and let me out!" I will expect that to be said in a French or Spanish accent or you can give me a mix of both, but please don't actually start spouting your desperate plea in a French or Spanish or I won't comprehend what your trying to say and might just get a bit freaked and sick a chicken on you.

Now, for those of you who want to be added to my sidebar....well, let me tell ya, there are some pretty big obstacles you have to pass. I'm not sure what they all are, because I make them up as I go, so just know they are hard and you may need to possess some serious skilzzz. But, if you are not going to feel like a whole, complete blogging-blogger without a stamp of linkage from me, then by all means leave me a comment with your url and beg mercilessly to be added and then I'll think about it and maybe, if you're lucky and have a dog by the name of Alsfaldghlashstkkkk then I'll be more than happy to hand over a piece of my prime realeblog to you. Sound impossible? Wonder how hard it would be to actually gain a spot on April Showers? Me too. So only the brave and utterly curious should really attempt this feat. God speed bloggers, and may the best blogs win.

Are we clear? Okay, proceed with your blogging decisions. I'll be right here, awaiting your reply......

Things that make you go ahhhh

Oh, blaaaaaah! This has been a very yucky hormonal day. It's terrible what the body can do to a happy spirit. So, instead of whining to you all, and believe me, I could do some serious moaning and whining right now, I've decided to find some pictures of things that make my heart flutter with happiness.

Like this one. Although when my husband snapped it, I grabbed the camera away from him to see if he took a picture of me and I wanted to cry because somehow in the last several years I started to age and take on the face of a woman who's seen her share of worry and sun exposure. Oh wait, am I complaining? Right. I like this picture because my husband caught me mid daydream. I was peering out the window of my sister's beautiful house at a pasture full of grass. A crisp spring breeze was coming through the unfinished window and I was breathing in the clean, fresh Kansas air. I was thinking how wonderful it will be when the house is done and my nephews will be tearing around in their new place, breaking everything in and my sister will finally have her dream house to live in. A dream come true.
And this photo is just something you don't see today. Do you know what makes it so wonderful? That's right, shed dormers. I remember peering over my husband's shoulder when he was drawing the back of this house and marveling at the shed dormers. Why were these abandoned and left astray in new housing, why? It also makes me happy to see something built that my husband helped design.

YIKES! This makes me happy? It's rather creepy, isn't it? But, she's just a sweet sunbathing chicken. I would give a prickly evil eye too if someone snapped a picture of me all sprawled about with my breasts hanging out worshiping the sun gods, she has no modesty, honestly!

How could this picture of two baseball capped little boys being toted around in a red wagon not make me smile? It almost makes me forget how the little one kept kicking his brother in the back for having a toy he insisted was his.

This candid shot was taken when Ike crawled up on my lap while I was blogging. He asked if he could take a picture of us. "Smile Mom!"

Okay sweetie, I'll smile and tomorrow will be a better day.

I do more weird/gross things before noon....

than most people want to do in a lifetime!!

So far I've...

Told my sons to take off their snow pants and put them away and, "No, you cannot put your swimsuit over your snow pants to look like your really muscular and play in the hose!"

Pondered over the mold growing on a sock in my daughter's laundry.

Told my daughter to clean the cat food out of the bottom of her laundry hamper.

Had a cockroach crawl on my hand.

Screamed until I was light headed about the cockroach crawling on my hand.

Was consoled by my 11yo son only to get all hyper-don't-touch-me when I noticed he was holding a Clorox wipe in his hand that he had been using to clean the toilette!!

Asked my 5yo why he smelled so strongly of vinegar??? "Cuz, I'm using it in my bean experiment". Oh, well that's explains everything.

My big boy

Seth has been at my sister's house all week, having the time of his life. My sister wrote a pretty cute post about him...check it out.

Million Dollar Idea

How much would you pay to have someone potty train your kid? I think this service should be offered at the next charitable auction I attend. I don't know who the poor soul would be to provide this service, but man, I would give a kidney for someone to do this for me.


Would someone please come potty train Levi, I'm much too busy blogging...and I don't want to. Please? Please! Pretty please?!

Out of the mouths of my littles

I want to eat snores- Ike referring to S'mores

I want to watch *itch- Ike referring to the movie Hitch but accidentally saying it with a B (and no, he didn't get to watch it, it's no TV month for goodness sakes, oh and he can't watch it in July either.)

I un some ick-rush- Levi wanting licorice

Mama gimme pee dow, peeeee dow- For a long time I thought Levi was asking for another pillow, but pee dow is his word for covers, he couldn't understand why I kept trying to shove another pillow under him.

Mama! Mom! Mommy! Comer, comer, ders chickens in the house!- I understood that perfectly well. Yes, there were four chickens in the house and for about three minutes we had a little chicken chase going on in the office. Fun times.

This is why I will be admitted to the looney bin...

Where's my camera?! Has anyone seen it? Where's my cellphone? Why are all the phones in the house missing? Where are Isaac's shoes? Kids, get in the van, I'll be there as soon as I find the keys. Has anyone seen the keys?
Argh, gallbladder, rickin'-frickin', dadblam...Oh, here's my computer....might as well blog a bit.

Evolution of Dance

My kinda guy!

Full Tilt

It is impossible for Clay to play any sport half-ass. It just isn't possible. He says, "April, I play full tilt!" Yes, he does, and because of his over zealous playing he is always sporting an injury.

He's had a sprained ankle, a crushed calf muscle and one time he went to church with a black eye and the imprint of the softball's threads on his face. He has a crooked pinkie finger, a scar on every possible facial feature and he requires an ankle brace when he plays basketball.

In other words, he's a mess.

Here's his latest battle wound. A mangled pinkie finger from playing softball. It looked like he slipped one of those fake fingers on that squirt water out of the nail when you show someone how gross your finger looks.

Or maybe, it just looked like he was saving a black olive on his pinkie to eat later.
Either way he didn't bother telling me about it until I reached out to hold his hand and he winced a bit. "What's wrong?" I asked. "Oh, it's just my finger, I hurt it trying to catch a ball. Ya know, cuz I play FULL TILT!"

Baseball in a small town...

We are in Kansas this weekend, where everything is smaller, slower and sweeter. Except little league baseball.

I went to my 12yo nephews game while my husband went to another small town to attend my 9yo and 10yo nephews' game.

When we met back up we were both saying things like this....

Did you see the dugouts they have? How about the big bleachers? Did you see the electronic scoreboard? They had an announcer's booth at the field aaaaand they play music between the innings.

Then my sister piped up, "Yeah, but you all get beer!"

And that's true, we do get beer from the concession stands in St. Louis, because you can't go anywhere without a little bit of Budweiser. But, I think the music between innings is better than Bud.

Whatcha know bout.....

This is Ike. I can't help but smile when he comes in the room, he's just so stinkin' sweet. When he smiles his whole face lights up the room, he has happy eyes and jolly cheeks and a teeny, tiny nose that I love to tweak. Other people love this kid too. He teachers are fond of him, other adults that know him are amazed at his docile behavior, kids flock to be by him because he'll play anything and not argue. He's just a fun, easy going little guy that I've marveled at since the day I pushed him into this world.

Oh, but then there's the teeth grinding, Lord, the teeth grinding. Even he laughs at how awful it is for all of us to listen to him sleep. Like fingernails scraping down a chalk board it grates every nerve in my body. Hopefully, it will stop when he starts loosing his teeth, God please let that be soon and let them all fall out at once. Surely, he won't grind his gums. Whatever worries, anxieties or fears he's working through at night must pay off because he sleeps as hard as a rock while he's gnashing those teeth and wakes up in the morning with a smile on his face.

And then there's the questions. Lots and lots of questions, all day long he interrogates me with all the knowledge he wants to soak up into his light bulb shaped head. The questions begin simple by asking what I know about a broad subject like, bugs, sharks, dinosaurs, rocks, airplanes, etc. and then if he's not satisfied with my answer, he'll ask, "What else?" as if I didn't give him my full breadth of knowledge on the subject. It goes something like this...

Mom, whatcha know bout sharks?
They live in the ocean, eat other fish, have a big fin that comes out of their back and give birth to their young.
What else?
They gobble up little boys with blond hair that ask too many questions.

When I'm tired of the questions I just answer, "I don't know". But, now he asks me, "Why don't you know?" "Because, Daddy knows all those answers, let's give him a call and you can ask him."

Unplugged

No TV in June!!!!

It's as much like coming off a drug as I could ever imagine. This is our fourth or fifth year of unplugging the boob-tube for the entire month of June.

Why? It's much too early in the month for me to rationally answer that question because, God help me, I just want to sit down at night and watch a movie!

Seriously, if you want my maternally mature answer then; because it's summer and we don't need to be sitting in front of a television numbing our brains to the sounds and sights that Hollywood demands that we embrace. Nor do my children need to sit on their butts and become robotic-like warriors of all things Playstation.

June 1st was the hardest day to get through, especially for Clay. Every time his phone rang he heard, "I'm soooo bored! I have nothing to do. When are you coming home?" The fifth time I called he asked, "Aren't you the one that started the whole no TV thing? Yes, you are! Now live with your decision and stop calling me!"

What do we do instead? We read, talk, play outside, watch the bats come out at night, garden, call the cousins, call the grandparents, beg for people to come over, whine a little, wrestle, nag, eat and dream. And my children learn how to play......without anything that plugs into a wall.

Join us if you want, tell me how it goes and what you do instead of watching the bright blue screen.

Gypsy Caravan

Every Memorial Day the St. Louis Symphony hosts the Gypsy Caravan. People come from all over to sell everything. I mean everything. One lady was selling socks while another was selling matchbox cars. There were antiques, tools, jewelry, iron art, bird houses, quilts and a whole lot of junk. For those with an empty stomach, there was a lot of food...and of course we had empty stomachs. So we ate chicken kabobs and drank frozen slushies and then my children were sucked in by the heavenly smell that comes from every carnival......funnel cakes.

This was Levi's first taste of a funnel cake and he was hooked. "Tis gooood, mmmmm, gooood, Mama, Mama, Mama goooood."

Having his cap impede his vision did not distract his hand to mouth coordination.

He did begin to weigh the fairness of four children sharing one funnel cake. Is that fair? Clay had to sit and gaze off into the distance to ponder this question.

But, then he realized he had saved lots of powdered sugar on his upper lip and cheeks that he could continue to savor throughout the day.

"Mama, Mama, tis goood, mmmm, good."

There's nothing like a hot, sweaty two year old coated in a sweet, sticky substance. Mmmmm tis gooooood.