When Sisters Text

My sister and I have been known to have silly fun with each other via text messaging. We've had ridiculous conversations about cats in French, we've re-worked the lyrics to the Fresh Prince of Bel-Air song to make it about communist Russia....gosh I wish I'd screenshot that.

Something along the lines of... "In west part of Moscow, born and raised, in the Gulag is where I spent most of my days!..." It was hilarious fun. {And best sung in Russian accent.}

Well, a couple weeks ago I texted my sister about a little gift she'd gotten for Pax when she was in France this past spring. Just go with me here...

I thought it was funny that I used the word monopolized, and started dropping corny board game references. I thought I was pretty clever. 

At this point, I honestly couldn't figure out why she was rambling on about it. 

Too early in the day to be drinking and texting. I was getting confused. 

I think I was frustrated at this point, that she wasn't getting my cute board game references, or playing along like she sometimes did. 

Then I call her "MOM" because that's what our mom is always doing. Fretting if she buys one daughter lunch, she is sure to mail the other daughter $10 to keep things fair. Okay, maybe I'm exaggerating a bit, but mom is obsessed with making sure we both feel equally loved.  

I think I'd given up at this point. 

What?

What tomfoolery is this?

Go on, scroll back up and read the first word of each text. 

I'll wait. 

...did you?

Yes?

Then you can see what she did...

If you don't know what being "rickrolled" is, you can read about it here. 

It's the meme that revived Rick Astley's career!

Nice, Bea. 

Pax Turns Two

Paxton is TWO. Already?!


Paxton's 2nd birthday crept up on me and also proceeded a week of VBS. So we celebrated like normal people this year and just had the grandparents over for a BBQ dinner.

Pulled pork to be exact.

And some good summer sides, like Martha's corn salad.

Any excuse to get us in good company, with good food, out on the back patio with some tiki torches is a good excuse, indeed. Thanks for growing up on us, P-Town.

Our Paxton, little bro of two sisters. Little mothers. He calls them his "Smothers". Okay, maybe he calls me his "Smother". What can I say? Guilty!

As I've said before, my children are fantastically photogenic.

Seriously. Don't be jealous. Slack-jawed, half-eyed photo ops are our specialty. Derp.

Having just the grandparents over for Pax's birthday was great. Sander and I agree that we're lucky that our parents get on so well. Makes things easy for us.

Since it was just the few of us, there were few presents to open. But he still got a good haul. Like this Matchbox Water Canon firetruck water gun thing. Seriously cool toy. He loved it, and we had a hard time getting him to open any more gifts after he'd met this toy.

He did spare a moment to kiss the hippo card mom and dad gave him.

The Smothering Sisters gave him a John Deere lawn mower! Get to work, Pax!

Then there was the big ticket gift...

A push trike! Yay, Papa Erickson put it together for him.

He says, "It'll do. It'll do just fine." {He LOVES it.}

So you see, a simple and sweet birthday party. Okay, we might have splurged on a bounce house for his birthday, to wear out the kids, you know? {Pax wouldn't get in the thing, of course.}

We sang 'Happy Birthday' over a chocolate eclair cake that didn't set up right. But you know what? I don't even care. Because we were well overdue for a easy going blah birthday.

And this birthday was juuuust right.

Even if Pax cried big tears when grandma and grandpa drove off in the RV that Pax thought was a birthday present.

Happy Birthday, my little man!!!


Mommy loves you to pieces. So much it hurts.

Cheers,
Pax's Mom