Godzilla and the "New" Easter Story

Lately, Evan has been borderline obsessed with Godzilla.  He walks around singing a godzilla song, pretends to be godzilla, and builds godzilla out of everything.  Yesterday we had a conversation about godzilla versus the Easter Bunny:
Mom: "Should we ask godzilla to come Saturday and bring treats rather than the Easter Bunny?"

Evan: "No!  I want both to come."

Mom: "What kind of treat is godzilla going to bring you?"

Evan with a lot of godzilla like zest: "He's going to bring me MEAT!!"

That's our little carnivore.

And now for an Easter story I wrote last year but forgot to post:

Easter 2010



Family Home Evening (FHE) in our house is a little more '30 second story and a lot of running around' than a true family study of gospel principles. To help in our endeavor to have more quality FHE time (because Evan is getting close to age 3 and should be able to recite the Articles of Faith by now...) we've been inviting friends over to mix it up a bit. Our good friends and next door neighbors graciously accept our invitations to join us for FHE many Monday nights. The girls, collectively known as 'the Ka' by Evan do a great job in providing an example/distraction for a length of time long enough to squeeze in a lesson.

A couple of weeks ago in an attempt to give an Easter lesson Evan might get something out of, I used the little Book of Mormon picture book. 'The Ka' read most of the captions under the pictures out loud and Evan stood by waiting for his turn. After looking at pictures of Christ visiting America talking to all the children, Evan was insistent it was his turn to read. We all chuckled as he started in on his version of the picture with Jesus surrounded by all the kids. In all earnestness, Evan told us that, "Jesus talk to the kids...", then looked up and finished his story with finesse, "and Jesus said, 'BOO'".

We all laughed at how cute him and his story was but then I thought, though he may not have been quoting scripture, I think Evan has a great point. I bet Jesus was great with kids and has a great sense of humor. Kids love Him and kids don't like lame people.

Happy Easter!

Six months of silence and this is all I've got...

After the third day in a row of my son waking up before me and digging out a breakfast of peppermint patties and Korean junk food that may or may not be older than he is, I finally cracked and decided today was the day I would organize our kitchen corner pantry. And today I would document that I actually finished an organizational project on my own house.

I got a little ahead of myself and forgot to document the true 'before'. All the crap on the counter used to be lovingly shoved in the bottom shelf.

Vitamins and jell-o. Could have been breakfast on day 4.

Wow, that's a lot of crap. Oh, wait I see a cantaloupe in the back proving we do in fact eat more than choco-pies.

Hello, Evan...and wait, is that Santa??

Pez Santa. Not guaranteeing circa Christmas 2010. Not even guaranteeing circa Christmas 2009. Uh-hum.

Hello again, Evan. Did I mention he likes to "help" with projects? (In this instance, "help" means "help himself to all the uncovered goods and squirrel them away all over the house")

Did I also mention he had pez Frosty for breakfast? And when I say breakfast, I mean lunch. Yes, I know he's still jammied. It was either clean out the cabinet or find clothes for Evan. Once 'Mad Cleaner' comes out (term of endearment coined by Todd) everything else becomes secondary.

Back to the pantry. I used the old tissue paper trick to determine the size of turntables I wanted. Thank you internet for finding me reasonably priced 18" turntables at Bed, Bath, and Beyond. A quick trip to B cubed and a large, overly priced kit-kat bribe for Evan (yes, I did get him dressed before we left) and voila! new life for my cabinet.

I'm pretty sure the only really effective option for large corner cabinets are turntables or lazy susans. But I'm really not sure why, why it's taken me SEVEN YEARS to figure this one out. The bottom corner cabinet has a lazy susan. I guess I figured my awesome memory would work just as well. "Don't buy more croutons, Todd, we have a bag of cheesy ones on the first shelf underneath Santa and 3 choco-pies."

Look at the awesomeness. I even broke out the label maker.

"Where do I put the oatmeal, awesome wife?"

"Second shelf turntable next to 'breakfast'" I say as I give the turntable a spin and stop at breakfast.

And what better way to store 'healthy snacks' than in a menacing container warning you to keep out? (Shhhh...The good stuff is on the second shelf in an old vitamin box - that oughtta keep it aging to perfection for at least another seven years)

The world is my sandbox

I think he would live here if we'ld let him.

If you like sand this is...not for you.

Because, this, my friend(s), is salt.

But it matters little to him, it's salt as far as the eye can see and he got to run, play, scoop and even make salt angels

in his favorite shirt.

Ok, one of his favortie shirts.  It's a toss up between 'superhero shirt' and 'shark shirt'.  Aunt Wendy only sees him on shark shirt day and has begun offering to buy the poor boy some clothes.  Who am I to turn down an offer from a doting aunt?? 

He REALLY likes alligator shirts. 

But she already knows that. 

And no one makes alligator shirts for 3 year olds. 

We've all checked.