Getting Crafty

It's that time of year again, Valentine time. I'm all about getting a box of ready made cards with the candies that slide through the appropriate slats. You punch 'em out, sign your name, done! My two boys are down with those too, but not so for my Payton. She wanted to make them herself b/c they "mean more that way, they're more special". Inside I gave a big sigh b/c I knew she was right and agreed to this totally complex rice krispy treat lamb that you hang a tag on that says, "I love ewe". I knew it'd be a mess, these things are always harder than they appear. My tendency is always to say no. I hate mess, clutter, and being challenged creatively. Knowing I always say no, I felt compelled to give her a yes this time. She loves to be creative and was so excited.

It was a two hour project. This was one of the best of our offerings.

The rest all look like this, flattened road kill or dead rats, limbs falling off or broken, as if a hunter took all the little lambies out to the field and shot 'em all down. None of them stood up on all fours like they were supposed to. To Payton they were beautiful, yummy, and so much fun to make.

Disaster struck towards the end of our "crafting" the lambs. I spotted a huge pile of questionable brown material smeared on my kitchen floor. Davey's been known to drop a nugget or two down his pant leg before, don't ask me how. But I'm thinking, "no way, he did NOT just do this to me in my kitchen and I've been walking in it all over the place!" Yes he did. I clean up more poop than a mother of a four year old should. I could fill countless posts of the times and places he's chosen to rock our world with his stuff.
So our big project ended in a big disinfectant cleaning for my kitchen, bath for Davey, and early to bed for him as well (only 15 minutes) b/c I was over it. Payton knew the situation wasn't good so she starts singing, "I love mommy, she's the best, she's so great, she's so pretty..." and any other compliment she could think to throw my way. It was so surreal to have her giving me all these shout outs while I'm scrubbing poop. What a world.

Here's poopy pants himself. We're still friends.