I Don't Think You're Ready...

...for this jelly.

Fish, that is. 

I realize this post is about four months overdue, but it takes time to properly wish a princess "Happy Birthday".  And my phone held these pictures hostage for awhile. 

This summer, for her sixth birthday, Sarah requested a Mermaid-princess-theater-rockstar-hangout party.  With minions.  

Hmmmmm. 

I was kind of at a loss, to say the least.  But, then I taught a unit on ocean animals the last week of school and we ended the year with a pirate party, complete with shark attack photo booth. 

We named him Fluffy.

The kids adopted him for their very own

and so we took the Under the Sea theme and ran with it. 

Though Fluffy is my pride and joy, I got a leeetle carried away making these jellyfish guys for decoration.

These guys were supposed to crisscross overhead on the patio, a la Finding Nemo, but, alas, it threatened rain the entire morning before the party, so I kept them indoors. 

From Will's and my Jaws t-shirts, to the shark bite wreath welcoming guests at the front door,

the party had a decidedly toothy bent.

The rain held off, though, and we filled up the inflatable pool, slipped on swimsuits, and took the party outside. 

There are basically no good pictures of party action, because the photographer and the cruise director were one and the same: ME. 

Activities included splashing in the pool,

trampolining with pool noodles, and a no-handed donut-eating contest.

I don't have the donut-eating contest on film, but the kids had a blast trying to eat like fish on a line.  The setup was easy: I tied some twine between two trees and threaded donuts on it.  The kids lined up across from their chosen donut, and ate as fast as possible before it hit the ground.

Birthday girl.

 There was also a photo booth of the princess-y kind, ready for some goofy fun.

 We needed a little somethin' for the ladies, so a mermaid photo prop made from a tri-fold presentation poster board did the trick.

While most of the guests braved the water or the trampoline,

others enjoyed the little shark-themed corn hole game I whipped up about 2 hours before party time.

I was so shocked this idea actually panned out! 

Yet another tri-fold board made an appearance, this time cut on a slant and secured with duct tape to raise it off the ground.

 And so, Feed the Chum to Fluffy was born.

Oh, you need bean bags in a jiffy?
Just gather some beans or rice, a roll of duct tape, and some zipper sandwich bags.

Voila!

The party ended with blue-iced cupcakes topped with drink umbrellas, shark fins, and Teddy Grahams

As simple as the decor, the setup, and the food were, a good time was had by all! 

My best girl rang in year 7 in style, and we can't wait to see what the rest of the year has in store!

7 Months (And Some Change)

Is it just me, or do these Teddy milestone posts keep getting further and further apart?  I guess it's just the season of life that our family is in, but it's like we're sprinting.

Uphill.

For 26.2 miles.

Anyway, Teddy is a big part of what's keeping us busy, and he's been a busy dude this past month himself. 

Sleep has been touch and go this past month, but it has gotten steadily better than the vortex of snot and pain that we were dealing with in August.

Our little bear has been doing some growing, but he's still on the pocket-sized end of the height and weight charts, and we're okay with that.  If you plant corn, you're not going to get pumpkins, right?  And neither Mike nor I are exactly giants.

So what does Mr. Teddy like these days?  Let's take a look.

Turn-ons: 

• Table food (we share a plate of eggs every morning, and he gets rowdy waiting for his lunch and dinner)
• Grabbing plates and bowls off the table and dumping them in laps; grabbing spoons on their way to his mouth
• Baths/pouring water
• Speaking his mind 
• Big brother's and sister's Pez dispensers - they're an especially good chew
• Army crawling 
• His Kevin the Bird softie
• Taking off his pants without using his hands 
• Escaping.

Who? Me?

Teddy's repeated escape attempts have earned him the alias "Houdini" and a one-way

ticket to the maximum security wing of the Big House, aka: the exersaucer.

Another new phenomenon around is the arch.  No, not the Gateway to the West.  We're talking about a signature Teddy move used whenever he's being put somewhere he doesn't want to be.  As an inmate with multiple escape attempts and a penchant for log-rolling his way off of elevated surfaces, the Bear has been relegated to solitary confinement or the floor.  But he doesn't want to just sit quietly on the floor with a Mumm-Mumm or a toy.  Nope.  So, he arches his back and stiffens his legs as straight as a board, very suddenly, I might add, becoming quite slippery and hard to handle.  What this accomplishes, I'm not sure, but his silent protests are increasingly frustrating to the parental units.

Turn-offs: 

• Socks (seriously, people, what is the point of putting socks on a baby? There is no contouring, no curves for the elastic to grab ahold of.  It's just cankle with a Hobbit foot stuck on it.);

• Actually being a baby: this guy is beside himself because he can't hang with the big kids yet. He wants to get down and wrestle with them, chase them, and play with chew their toys.  I have heard Mr. T actually try to jump in whatever raucous yelling match with them in his own language. 

• His carseat.  We spent 5 hours on Tuesday driving home from St. Louis, and Teddy's been refusing to get in it ever since, even busting an Arch yesterday morning before leaving the doctor's office.

• Milk.  The big guy would rather have what we're having, please and thank you. 

Oh, Teddy.  You've become a total pain just like the rest of us, and we love you for it!