Happy All Green Day!

About a week ago Elizabeth's preparations began. She and her PawPaw headed to Wal-mart to buy some flashing green rings. Sure, Paw Paw disgused his flashing green ring obsession with the premise of going for groceries, but Elizabeth and I know the truth. She also collected some other green things. All of this was in preparation for today, what Elizabeth calls, "All Green Day."

So, Happy "All Green Day" to you! I told Elizabeth that today was St. Patrick's Day, the day for her green stuff and she didn't seem phased. In fact, she's spent most of the day in her panties, which are not green. I've pinched her several times, but mostly just because she has such a cute booty.

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Last week, we went out to eat Japanese with my mom. Luke knows how to use chop sticks, I do not. Seeing Luke's talent, Elizabeth decided she wanted a try. Needless to say, she didn't quite get it. Luke offered her fork. She declined. My mom told her is was okay to use a fork if she was having a hard time. I even told her that I had no clue how to use chop sticks and that I had to use a fork. Finally, after showing her for the 4th time how to hold the chop sticks, Luke offered her a fork one more time. Apparently, that was the last straw. As clear as day, yet totally under her breath she says...

"Fork fork fork fork fork, everyone keeps giving me a fork. Take a fork Elizabeth. Have a fork Elizabeth. Try a fork. If I want a fork I'll get a fork, okay?"

Her hatred of American eating utensils is now a distant memory thanks to some minor therapy. I'm afraid the too-big-for-her-britches attitude is here to stay.

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After making muffins with the kids a while back, we were enjoying the fruits of our labor when I asked the kids,

"Hey! Who made these muffins?"

Lucas proudly announced, "God did!"

Gotta love it.

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Ashlee is pretty bossy. Actually, she's just a flat out copycat which means when I correct someone, she repeats me verbatim. After an especially long day where I had repeatedly told her that she was not allowed to boss her brother and sister around, I turned to her and asked,

"Ashlee, I've already told you that you're not a mommy yet. Who gets to tell others what to do?"

Ashlee replied, "God does."

She's right.

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Last week, I walked in on Elizabeth breastfeeding her baby Callie. If you don't know who Callie is, check out this post.

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For Christmas or Valentine's or some holiday, Luke's Aunt sent the kids a CD with a bunch of kids' song. We have learned several new songs including: Joshua and the Battle of Jericho, Zaccheaus, The B-I-B-L-E and a song called Praise Him! (which Elizabeth has alternately titled Everything That Has Breaf). This CD has become our theme music as we roll down the road in the Big Red Beast. I actually caught myself singing along the other day as I drove to the store, without the kids.

Recently we have started learning a new song, "Who Did Swallow Jonah?" The beginning goes a little something like....

Who did? Who did?
Who did? Who did?
Who did swallow, Jo, Jo, Jo, Jo...

Who did? Who did?
Who did? Who did?
Who did swallow, Jo, Jo, Jo, Jo...

Who did? Who did?
Who did? Who did?
Who did swallow, Jo, Jo, Jo, Jo...

Who did swallow Jonah down?

Well, being the musical genuises that my eldest children are, they LOVED this new song. After listening to it 4,924 times in a row I finally convinced them to listen to a few others, giving Jonah a break. Approximately 5 minutes later, I hear the following request from the back of the van...

"Pooted Mommy!"

"What?"

"Pooted!"

"Who pooted?"

"No. We wanna hear Pooted!"

"Excuse me?"

"Pooted swallow Jo, Jo, Jo, Jo!"

Crying and unable to drive, I turn it back to Pooted. (If you don't get it, sing the song above, outloud, in the loudest voice possible.)

Our only hope of having musically savvy kids lies with Baby D and Baby Girl.