Monday, March 26, 2012

It's Spring Break

Fun for the kids, not for me. So far we are off to a bad start, thanks to another of Mea's failed dentist appointments this morning--this time they got her to sit through the Novocaine shot, but then she wouldn't open her mouth again to get the cavities filled. What a waste. And I really shouldn't be this frustrated, but somehow I am.

Anyway, spring break started last Friday and runs through the end of this week. Ironically, Evan's spring break was last week, so they only overlapped by one day. We looked into going camping, but nothing is open this early in the season.

So here's our spring break line-up. Keep in mind that we are poor, so some of these activities may seem pathetic, but we haven't spent any money on entertainment since we moved here, so the kids are excited about it:

--Friday: Evan took the kids to Chuck E. Cheese (spent $2o in tokens)
--Monday: dentist appt for Mea, McDonalds Happy Meals and playing at the playplace (<$10)
--Tuesday: story time at the library, Kohl Children's Museum ($10 per kid)
--Wednesday: bowling ($5 per kid, unlimited games for 2 hours, moms free), family swim at the gym (free)
--Thursday: Butterfly museum (friend can get us in for free), Lincoln Park Zoo (free!)
--Friday: Lego store browsing (strong emphasis on the browsing part), playing at the treehouse in the mall (free)

Sometime this week, if Spencer keeps treating Waimea like he does his friends (that's our new measure of his behavior towards her), we'll let him have his friend from school come over (we've had a ban on friends over for a few weeks now. We're such horrible parents, I know).

Wish me luck. I think I need it.

Friday, March 23, 2012

Another One of Those Stories

Have I ever mentioned that I dislike hearing stories of people who find missing items shortly after saying a prayer? Well, I do. Because it never happens to me. Sure, I find things, like my wedding ring that was missing for a few months. But it's never the kneel-to-pray-get-up-and-find experience. I suffer and agonize (usually for weeks or months) before I find anything.

So you can imagine my annoyance with what happened today:

We decided to make ourselves a picnic table for our backyard. We bought the wood, and were setting up the miter saw to cut it, when Evan realized that a part was missing. He searched in all our tool boxes and parts boxes in the basement. He asked for my help. I searched everywhere (and was feeling very bad because I was the one who packed the stuff up in New Jersey)but couldn't find any trace of it. We searched again together. Nothing. And then, giving up, and being kind of sarcastic about it, I said, "Say a prayer and hope for the best." I was walking away when Evan exclaimed, literally seconds later, "I know where it is!" And sure enough, there it was--in our junk drawer upstairs. How did he find it? He said a prayer and the answer just came to him.

Hmm, fancy that. Why can't I ever find things that easily? (Rhetorical question. Please don't comment about my lack of faith).

Tuesday, March 20, 2012

Angry Bird Fan(atic)s

Somehow my kids found out about Angry Birds last fall. Sometime in November, we downloaded the game onto our computer and played it for the first time. Needless to say, my kids (and Evan) were hooked.

Spencer asked for plush angry birds for Christmas, but there was no way I was buying them all. Luckily I found this website with tutorials for making them out of fleece. I ended up making them the whole set. Now we have angry birds everywhere:

watching tv (and quite often they are watching angry bird videos on YouTube):
in Waimea's art:
on our new mini trampoline (thanks, Kristin, for the brilliant idea!):
my kids make perler bead shapes with them:

watching the kids play on the computer:

They are sitting in front of me now as I type. And the kids just keep asking for more. But I'm done making them. For now, anyway.

Waimea even pretends to be angry birds--she used to get on someone's shoulders and attack the "pigs" (other people nearby). Now Evan holds her and pretends to pull her back in a slingshot. Whenever she sees the Chicago Bulls mascot on anything she gets excited and claims it's an angry bird. We get a kick out of it, especially when she does it in public.

Ironically, they rarely play the game. They just love the idea.

(BTW--did you know that Angry Birds was invented by a bunch of Finns? That's probably the real reason I'm okay with the kids going crazy over them.)