Today I am posting pictures of the boys jumping on the trampoline yesterday with the sprinkler.  And the dog.  And the paint that is showing no sign of ever coming off.  But these pictures have nothing to do with the ramblings I'm about to let out.  They're just distractions to look at in case you're  bored but want to keep reading.

I have a problem in which I lose the keys.  A lot.  Often.  Always.  One time I lost them for like six months.  We had to make an extra complete set of my keys.  Then one day six months after I made the new set I was wearing a skirt to church that I hadn't worn in awhile.  Something was jingling in the pocket.  The lost keys.

This morning I decided to take the kids swimming at the community pool in our town.  I was pretty proud of myself for gathering everything, including a packed lunch, and getting the kids ready, the baby ready, and myself ready-- all set to leave in time to get there as soon as the pool opened.  Then I had to get the keys and we would be off.  But they were missing.  I checked in all the normal places:  the microwave stand, the kitchen counter by the sink, the top of the filing cabinet in the computer room, the computer desk.  Then I even checked some of the not normal places I sometimes leave the keys.  The top of the dresser, the bathroom sink.  But the keys were nowhere.

I wish I were the type of person who could just stop, breathe, perhaps say a prayer, and then calmly continue searching.  Actually, I wish I could be the type of person who could put the keys in the same spot all the time.  But I am neither of those people.  Instead, as I search, I get more frantic. And more frantic.  And more angry and more angry.  At myself, at Brice, at whoever happens to be the way of the searching.  Sometimes I swear.  Sometimes I throw things.  Today I did both of those things, and also added yelling, crying, and scaring/scarring children to the list.  

I said a prayer.  I tried to calm myself.  I sent the kids to their room to shield them from my searching frenzy/rage. But I never did find the keys.  Fortunately, a loving Father in Heaven enlightened my mind enough to remember to look for the before mentioned set of spare keys.  I don't know how He got through the seething, yelling, crying, undeserving brain of mine.  But I remembered those keys.  And regained my composure and we got to go the pool.

But seriously, why do I have to be so INSANE 90% of the time.  How will my kids ever remember the fun loving mom who takes pictures of them jumping on a trampoline, that they got to paint, when I freak out about lost keys?  And also why do I always lose the STUPID KEYS.

On the way to the pool Jace told me that when we got home we would have to search for the other keys.  So we wouldn't "waste keys like you always do, mommy."  Thanks buddy.  Thanks.  

The kids don't look too scarred, right?  And see how normal I'm pretending to be?

Well another example of how not normal I am happened after we got the pool.  There was this lady there that I see around town all the time it seems like.  Probably mostly at Walmart because I tend to go there a lot. . . and I have the remember-peoples-faces-forever curse.  So I see her everywhere. 

She is tall.

She is tan.

She is really pretty.

I noticed that she kept looking over at me, as I was unloading all of my belongings and getting kids set to swim.  And so maybe she recognized me, as well.  So I felt like maybe I should say something?  Like strike up a conversation?  Be friendly?  

So instead of saying something like, "It's a good day for swimming" or "Are those your kids over there?"  I say, "That's a really good color on you."

And then suddenly I find myself opening this flood gate wherein I cannot stop giving this lady compliments.  Good color.  You're so tan.  You don't look old enough to have son so big. YOU'RE SO PRETTY. (yeah, I'm pretty sure I really said that)

 Inside my mind I'm screaming, "JUST SHUT UP."

But I couldn't.  So I'm pretty sure that this lady who I see everywhere now thinks I'm in love with her.  And that she just got hit on.

Remember that song on Mary Poppins when the crazy old guy is singing that song, "I love to laugh" and he starts floating up to the ceiling?  Well when I look at these pictures I sing that song in my head but change the words to, "I love to BOUNCE!"  Just FYI.  

Livvy Liv in sepia.

Sometimes when I'm desperate to release stress and crazy hormonal rage I run out in our yard.   From the front fence to the back of the garage drive way and back.  Maybe 75 meters? Back and forth and back and forth.  I'm pretty sure our neighbors probably think I'm crazy.  Which I am, I guess.  That's why I'm doing it.  So I can stop being so crazy for the boys.

Anyway last week one day I needed to do some running so I let the boys paint on the trampoline so they would stay out of my way and not bother me with their nonstop whining (the thing that was triggering the craziness in me).   

The painting of the trampoline last approximately one minute and then turned into painting of bodies.  

Which was fine.  Then I turned the sprinkler on thinking that the paint would all wash off quickly.  It said it was washable.  

It did not wash off easily. 

Popsicle eating in sepia.

Sometimes when I'm blog stalking random people who I don't know, I notice that sometimes people have a series of pictures in a certain filter or effect.  I decided to try it.  And I liked it.  So perhaps I will do that more.

Also I've been posting a lot lately.  Mostly because Brice and I just finished watching Revenge and haven't started a new show yet.  He's watching Fringe right now.  From the sounds of it I think it might be too stressful for me. . . 

We had a fun farm photo shoot when the cousins were here.  These kiddos are pretty patient to put up with the craziness we sometimes put them through.  But they always get well rewarded with treats for their good behavior. And who needs a professional photographer when Granny can set up such good back drops and with online photo editing?

I love going through to weed out the good ones and find some funny ones as well.

  

Jace wasn't feeling great so getting him to smile was a bit of stretch.  In most of the pictures his face had, instead of a smile, a miserable grimace.  

Black and white of litte Livvy poking her head out of a bucket.  I was surprised at how cooperative she was since she had weaseled her way out of a morning nap.

Jace had to dig for some gold I guess.  It just couldn't wait.  And I don't even know what Camers is doing.

My dark eyed farmer boy.  With a mouthful of gummi-bears.

We tried to get one of the girls at the very end when the babies were pretty much done.

Keanz and Liv were sitting so cute so we quickly tried to move Kimbrie on over in her bucket.

But Livvy was done, and Kimbrie was possibly on the verge of toppling over.

So we tried to have Keanzie wrangle the two of them.

It didn't work out so great.

Oh well.  In the end I got a good one of my three and Emily got a good one of her three.  And we got a good one of all six!  They're not really smiling. . . but no one is crying.