Air Quotes and Autumn

There was a plan tonight (there really was) to get to this blog as soon as I got the boys asleep. But then I got side tracked by second dinner.

Then "Nilla" wafers (I can't say that without the mocking air quotes) and chocolate pudding.

Then some impressively blatant stalling on thebigmamablog.com instead of actually writing on my own blog.

Then piddling around doing other completely unnecessary things while I waited for the pictures to make it from my phone to my computer so I could officially sit down and start (because what's the point of writing something if your visual aids are not yet available?).

But really, I just couldn't get this blog rolling without this completely creepy picture that I found on my phone when I was going looking for the rest of the photos I needed for today.

Hey, creeper:

Let me explain (no, let me sum up). This is Rolly. He has made repeat appearances on this blog in the past. But as the Little Man's photographical acumen has sky rocketed, so has his adoration of this dog. Sentimentally, it was the Man's when he was a kid and I am so grateful that Rolly is helping Littles survive this deployment, but if anything happens to Rolly--and I've already sewn his head back on three times--we're in big trouble. Anyway, I'm not sure why I was scared out of my mind to find this looking back at me as I scanned through my photo gallery. Maybe it's something about those unnerving eyes looking straight into my soul. Rolly has now become the Chucky of stuffed animals to me.

He's watching me. And he does not approve.

But that's not the point of today's post. Frankly, there may not yet be a point, but I did have an end game in mind. Mostly, I wanted to tell you that autumn arrived! Ish. I mean, of course, the Oklahoma version of autumn which is completely devoid of things like changing leaves that wash the world in colour. But it was in the 50's this morning and so wonderfully cool that the boys and I packed up some fruit and a loaf of pumpkin bread, threw on hats and hoodies (well, I had to wear a sweater because none of my hoodies fit any more for obvious reasons), and went to the creek for a picnic breakfast as the sun was coming up. Note, I did bring coffee for myself otherwise we might never have made it out of the house.

For the most part, I will admit, I was celebrating actually getting a decent night of sleep. And the fact that I just really like these kids. More so when they sleep than when they don't.

How could I not? Look at this face! I mean, look at this face! (Are you looking?)

The Little Man lovingly took a picture of the me and the twins to prove that I was actually awake and out of bed at this hour, and while I will be honest and admit that it's not my favourite photo ever, I'm obligingly posting it for those of you who would otherwise accuse me of kicking the kids out of the house on their own under the pretense of a picnic just so I could get more sleep.

I wouldn't do that. I might think about doing that, but I wouldn't ever follow through with it in reality. I did roll over in bed yesterday morning though and waste my breath telling my three year old, "Go get your own breakfast!" but I claim partial insanity after being up all night long with his teething baby brother. Littles just looked at me in confusion. The fact that he gets his own yogurt and spoon every morning for breakfast and knows how to access the fruit drawer in the fridge is apparently lost on him. It's not breakfast if I'm still in bed, evidently.

Anyway, it was great. The long shadows stretching off the Little Man's bike spokes, the sun coming up behind the boys as they competed to see who could stuff more pumpkin bread in at one time, pulling out some of the cold weather clothes, the tantrum Tiny threw about not being allowed to wear sandals--all of it was great...and then I found a garage sale lamp for $1 as we were walking the dog after breakfast.

I love fall. It always reminds me of visits to the tea plantation when I was a kid. It must be the similarity in the weather. Plus, autumn always provides me with the excuse to make home made bread and stew. I love stew. For that matter, I love bread. Or maybe it's just that I love food.

Someone tell me quick: do you think it's possible I'm pregnant?

And now the cat has his head in the empty "Nilla" (weird...) wafer bag, so I think that's a sign that I should go to sleep. The End.