St. Pat's and... enough.

We survived DST and returned to normalcy. Which looks, for no good reason, like this. 

Finley learned to read bedtime stories to her brother (wildly adorable)

and soccer practice commenced. (One of these kids will apparently have to be Aunt Becky-ed into USC, and we're saving now.)

We had one of those random long weekends that make you appreciate Fort Bragg (for its generous four days!), and spent Friday at the North Carolina Zoo

going wild for the polar bears and gorillas

before fleeing a torrential downpour and holing up at an Asheboro Chick-fil-A

and then for the third (!!!) weekend in a row, crashing on the way home. (This has become my real favorite recurring weekend photo.)

We spent the rest of the long-ish weekend catching up with old friends (here, the West Point neighborhood gang got back together and picked up right where they left off)

getting stuff done around the house,

and really killing St. Patrick's Day.

(Sometimes you just have to dip your cookie in your cupcake frosting and show off your new Incredibles undies.) 

The cherry-on-top of one of our favorite holidays was a West Point Cadet reunion involving wrestling

and a late movie night with F+F's buddy Gabe,

followed by a morning-after that started like this

and later included three motrins, two waters, and a trip to the Cape Fear Botanical Garden for a truly adorable leprechaun hunt.

St. Pat's with kids is a whole new (painful) world.
Also, exhausting if you're two and spending the weekend dressed like an actual leprechaun.

Too many photos of the week this week, but I love this one of Finley on the "big girl" bars at the park,

her and Ford showing off their new plan to pull open the door of the car ("teamwork!")

and Ford, after a long morning at the park (before Mom had to go TDY to DC on a long weekend) stubbornly taking his horse and going home. Because sometimes, enough is enough.

Indeed.

 Hope everyone had a happy St. Pat's.

Sunday Parenting, and the Dreaded DST

As if regular bedtime wasn't bad enough, last weekend Daylight Savings Time (proof that the world hates parents) hit with a vengeance. Which meant that our evenings turned into fiascoes which looked like this

and this;

and the morning after the USASOC Ball, which I attended but for which occasion I managed to avoid having my makeup done by Donatella Versace's makeup artist here,

I was up at the literal crack of dawn to take the hooligans to the only place I could think of that would entertain them all day. The always-incredible Museum of Life & Science.

Because people who have the time and wherewithal to pack picnics on DST weekends are not real, we kicked it off with a car picnic from Alpaca Chicken, which always makes us do two things: send video to the Peruvian branch of the family, and wonder why styrofoam is still a thing that is manufactured. (But the chicken is divine.)

And then proceeded to have a great time enjoying terrific weather, the "train,"

a satisfyingly muddy "fossil dig,"

and rides on both pretend horses and "real" dinosaurs.

Everyone was having so much fun, I even made the mistake of attempting to take one decent frame-able photo of them. Not that that ever works. 

Photos of the week- besides the above of course- are of my favorite part of the butterfly house, the butterfly identification cards that both kids study intently (every time);

 and this one, proof of two weeks in a row of really nailing Sunday parenting.

A New Routine, and an "Under the Weather" Weekend

We've settled into the routine of a medically retiring Seth, which means meat... it's what's for dinner, and that oftentimes, instead of racing to daycare pickup at the end of a long day, I find these guys by the pond fishing. Nobody, with the possible exception of the fish, is complaining about this new rhythm. F+F love their Dad Time, and I do not miss the race to not be the last parent in the door, out of breath and apologetic, at Wonder Years.

We finally got around to making Seth's belated birthday cake, and I wish I could say F+F did all the frosting:

Another infection, hopefully this one minor, had Seth laid up for most of the weekend, though, and I'm battling my annual case of strep, so the last couple days have looked a lot like the Nyquil commercial ("Moms [and Dads] don't get days off.") That meant pizza for dinner (F+F love Mod, and come up with some crazy combinations like this pineapple-corn-ham-sausage delight Finley devoured)

gratitude for Little Gym- coordinated birthday partying,

and a low-key trip to the car wash by way of Saturday activities, which turned out to be a real hit even if my car doesn't appear to be significantly cleaner.

Sunday I finally got antibiotics, and pulled it together enough for the long-promised trip to see the "real mermaids" on tour at the Fort Fisher Aquarium. Which was an actual dream come true for both kids. Ford can't stop talking about it, and went to bed last night clutching his autographed mermaid photo, even if he was way too intimidated to take part in the official photo.

Making the most of the loonnggg drive, we also managed a warm-if-windy beach picnic,

some exploring at Fort Fisher,

and a ride on the much-anticipated Fort Fisher- Southport "car boat," site of this hilarious and terrible pose that happened when I asked Finley to say cheese.

As soon as we drove off the ferry, the backseat of the car looked like this, and stayed that way the whole way home. #nailedit

Seth and I are both still under the weather today, so I'm playing catchup and gargling saline while the kids are at school, and hoping an R&R Monday is just what the doctor ordered (since I am definitely not getting two of these.)

The photo of the week has to be this one, our typical view at about 8:45; after the kids are tucked in and post- "one more book," at least "one more Superhero story," and a couple rounds of giggling from upstairs. They always seem surprised when we catch them "sneaking" downstairs.