I have decided...

That I am not a photographer.  In an attempt to capture my children in all their Sunday cuteness (and momentary cleanness), I thought it would be a good idea to get a picture for the Christmas card.  We thought about going through a professional, but I really don't want to get a whole family shoot done before the new baby comes and would rather just spend the money in the spring to capture the whole complete family.

This is my favorite shot, with Scott trying to get them set, Elizabeth picking her nose and Rachel running off for the umpteenth time.  Somehow, I don't see my Grandma being thrilled to open this one in her Christmas card!!

That hot chocolate is not for toddlers.  Last Wednesday was our first cold day and I told Elizabeth she could have hot chocolate during nap time. 

I must have had a moment of sheer stupidity in my currently-pregnant state.

I heated the water and realized that the mug I was going to put it in would not only be too hot but would spill within two seconds.  So I took the lid off a thermal sippy and filled it with the hot chocolate and added a couple marshmallows - you know, because I'm a cool mom.  I handed the cup to my thrilled three-year-old with the spoon in it.

While she was sitting on the carpet.  I know, just commit me.

So I sit down to do some work on the computer and five minutes later, in trots Elizabeth buck naked and with the cup in her hand.  

"I want some more, mama."  

"Elizabeth, there is plenty in there - you just ate all the marshmellows and where is your underwear?"  

"Oh...they were all chocolatey."

So I put the lid on the sippy and the little streaker trotted back into the living room, happy as a lark. 

Now to get the stains out of her clothes...and the carpet...

That, when avoiding sugary afternoon treats, one might not want to offer carrots and peanut butter to little children who do not like carrots.  Here, Elizabeth sucked off the peanut butter, chewed up the carrots and then proceeded to spit them out in my hand.  Lovely.

That, when avoiding afternoon television zombism, one might not want to offer her little children a bag of navy beans to "cook" with on the floor like her Memaw did for her.  One, my Memaw was a saint and always picked up the few stray beans.  Two, I enjoyed this activity and was a somewhat normal child.  Three, my children are hooligans who threw the beans all over creation and then proceeded to eat them.  Dry beans.  Tonight for dinner, I made cheesy ranch chicken, which has Elizabeth's name written all over it and she wouldn't touch it.  But she would eat old, dry navy beans. 

Rachel "heping" scoop up the beans.  Those little speaks all over the floor are them!

So innocent...ha!

 Hope you have a wonderful Monday!!