Weapons Cache

A little slideshow of our resident sharpshooter and his weapons cache....

It's just a tiny obsession.

There is ammo in various states of useability. Nerf darts, rubber bands, arrows.

There is armament. And, sometimes, there are costumes that fetchingly match the armament.

A Sith Lord, brandishing his lightsaber.

Tusken Raiders, brandishing their gaderffii. Yes, I googled it.

A water wienie, brandishing a water wienie.

Han Solo, brandishing a blaster.

Young wizards, brandishing their wands.

(This was about 11:46 p.m. the night that HP & the Deathly Hallows was released, hence the enthusiasm.)

Cyclops and Storm, of X-men fame, brandishing their extrasensory skills.

A young taekwondo student, brandishing his... foot?

A Power Ranger, brandishing whatever Power Rangers brandish.

And lastly, my favorite of all...

A Highlander laddie, brandishing his broadsword.

In the end, sometimes all a guy needs is this:

Boom. Boom. Firepower!

A treat for mom

Meghan is sleeping in my bed tonight. This is only remarkable because it used to be so unremarkable. Bedtime. PJ's? Check. Drink of water? Check. Semi-good TV show? Check. Middle of the night sneak attack by Meghan? Check.

After many years (you think I'm kidding, but I am not!) of behavior modification, bribing, and finally resorting to elbowing her off the bed onto the floor, we finally broke her of sleeping in our bed. And for years after that, whenever the Man of the House was away, I refused to let her sleep in our bed for fear of raising the specter of a tousled whining toddler pulling on my pajama sleeve at 1:29 a.m. for the next three weeks after granting such a privilege.

Meghan and her "Stay in the Bed" story.

And yet... I find myself nodding at the words my mother said about 6 years ago: "Don't rush it. You'll miss this." At the time, I said to myself, "Self, there is no way I will miss this. What I miss is sleeping through the night."

Meg with her Pooh Blanket, Baby Jill, and her Cuppy, ready to institute a sneak attack as soon as her exhausted parents are safely into REM sleep.

Well, I still don't miss those toddler years of crying, night terrors, and baby drool in my hair. I don't miss having fleece sleeper clad 2 year old with a core temperature of 110º turning my bed into sauna. And I don't miss waking up smelling faintly of baby pee from a pull-up that didn't do its job.

But I do miss little hands patting my back. And the non-pee toddler smell combo of Neutrogena Rainbath, fruity detangler, and lavender cream. And seeing a sweet little face with violet-tinted eyelids and long eyelashes peacefully sleeping on my pillow.

So she's sleeping in the big comfy bed tonight. And even though she now smells like Pantene, nail polish, and some god-awful gingerbread tween bodyspray, when I wake up in the morning, I will see her and her mane of dandelion fluff. And I will have my toddler girl back for a few quiet moments.

Shh...

Too much freaking snow.

Along with the rest of the East Coast, we have had (more than) our share of snow. Now, being from Central PA, yes, indeed, I have had snowy winters before. Doesn't stop me from hating winter and wishing that my husband would call my bluff about taking a job southwhere.

Almost two feet in the backyard. This

was before the 11" we were blessed with

Wednesday.

A lot of snow to clear before I can run away screaming.

Abominable makes an appearance as a result of one too many snowdays at home...

Florida Keys, here I come.

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