Tea parties are the perfect antidote to the plague, if you were wondering.

Proof of how sick I was. I served graham crackers with peanut butter and chocolate chips instead of homemade scones.

It didn’t slow Eliza down though.

Marion took her hostess duties very seriously.

Having a cuppa

So sweet to share!

So proper

And then she turns the teapot upside down.

So nice and neat

So not so nice and neat

Big sister taught her how to stir with her spoon

It’s all fun and games until someone drinks out of the creamer

This is why dinner now takes us an hour to get through. Not because we’re all enjoying a five course meal, but because we have to listen to thirteen thousand renditions of her brand new, best one ever, “Rabbit Song.”

And this is why cooking anything takes twice as long as pre children

First up, Josh got to come home early on Friday and so I used that opportunity to get in my long run then instead of waiting until Saturday morning.

My view on the way home

Josh did his long run Saturday morning as usual, and as usual, when he came home, we were all starving. So we decided (as did half of Houston) to go outside for a meal. Unfortunately the food truck we were trying to track down had generator issues and so we drove around until we found another truck we like (with a parking lot that had actual empty parking spaces). Houston has a crazy amount of incredibly wonderful food trucks right now and if I had my way, I’d eat at one every meal for a week and not get tired of them.

This weekend’s fare was from StickIt Truck

Then we went by Petite Sweets (not a food truck, but still delicious) and picked up dessert for a little sweet picnic in the park

What baby doesn’t love a macaroon?

Although these days she’s not such a baby anymore

Big girl was in heaven with lots of sticks

And trees to bang them against

Bean was happy to just climb in and out (and in and out and in and out) of the stroller

We capped off the evening with a trip to the bookstore. For a little light reading, you know.

Happy birthday to one of the most amazing, miraculous little babies around. We love you so much sweet John Paul!

Down this path lies total destruction of our house. Or at least our ER slush fund.

Eliza vs the Pork Chop

Marion loves the show, Dinosaur Train. Loves it. She can play Dinosaur Train with all her babies for hours and has an impressive vocabulary of almost unpronounceable dinosaur names. As well as being convinced she’s nocturnal, but well, that’s the topic of another post.

If you’re at all familiar with Dinosaur Train, than you know the role of Mr Conductor and the tickets. Which always leaves me amazed at why do they even have tickets on this train when certainly they aren’t buying them because none of these dinosaurs have jobs and certainly no pockets to carry change in. But I guess without the tickets Mr Conductor couldn’t show off his Troodon claw. Can you tell I’ve spent a lot of time analyzing this?

I digress.

So Marion often plays games with her babies that involve them needing tickets. She’ll ask them if they have their tickets, she’ll say she has the tickets, she sees if we have tickets, etc. When sh asks if we have the tickets, we always tell her no, we don’t have them, maybe go look in the playroom. Essentially, just brush her off because man, the ticket talk can go on all day.

Today though, I was feeling like being super involved mom, so when she asked me if I had the tickets, I told her “I do have the tickets!” After all, I could spare 30 second to go grab three sheets of note paper. She was shocked. I said, let me go look in my special ticket drawer (the buffet drawer if you must know) and I’ll get the tickets out. I was tearing the sheets off the note cube and said, “Hey look, I’m like Mr Conductor” and she said, “You sure are mom! This is so exciting!”

I handed her the “tickets” and she said, “Thanks mama!” and I started to walk off, I was mom of the year, you better believe it. She stood there, inspecting the tickets more closely.

“Mom,” she said, “I really need something more amazing.”

And that folks, is why you have kids. They keep you humble.

Whether you want it or not.