Mummy Rules: Take a Picture

I know, I know, I keep saying I need to write stuff down and take pictures. So here's my attempt. Easter 2016 in multiple posts even.
So over the weekend I found this dress in Jo's closet and I begged and pleaded with her to wear it so I could take some pictures of her in it. This is a dress I wore when I was little, and it was hand made by my Mum. I may as well have been asking Jo to wear sackcloth and ashes woven from the thorny stems of rose bushes. There was bribery and corruption galore involved in getting Jo to even put the dress on. "Just see if it fits, you can wear that other dress to church, I promise!" (I did follow through on that promise too, just for the record. This dress was only on her little body for about 30  minutes) I finally cajoled her into the dress and then down the stairs for a photoshoot. The problem being that Jo doesn't like to have her picture taken. Or rather she doesn't like to cooperate to have her picture taken. She doesn't object to being on camera, she just doesn't really care to listen to instructions. See dictionary definition: child.  She will do all in her power to avoid looking at the camera, smiling, standing in that spot you wanted etc. The downside being that she just prolongs the time it takes to get the picture and therefore has to listen to more instructions. It's a vicious cycle, my very on 3 year old Catch-22.
Still, it's pretty great to see her in the dress and I know one day I'll be so glad I captured this.

 OK, ok, so I already am.

Easter Rules: Hunt with Friends

We had so many Easter happenings this past weekend but I bet if you asked Jo she would tell you that having Rachel over to stay was the highlight of it all. It may in fact have been the highlight of Jo's year thus far.
Rachel's parents were celebrating their anniversary and I volunteered to take their little people so they could enjoy some down time. Since it's Easter this weekend our apartment complex was having an Easter egg hunt. I tried to get us all out the door in time but I had double the number of people I usually do, and let's be honest, I don't even make it out the door on time with two.

So, we eventually got ourselves organized and headed down to the hunt. Only to find it pretty much over. At least we thought it was until I found an untouched hidden area. Thinking I had found the jackpot I showed it to my charges and encouraged them to get to work.

 Pretty soon I was shown the error of my ways. An older gentleman approached and informed us (none too graciously) that we were egg hunting in the 6-10 year olds area. None of my entourage passed for 6 and this gentleman was obviously disgruntled with us. I redirected my charges and we moved back to the 1-5 year old area where we found some eggs and traded them for a prize. Does stuff like this happen with this same level of frequency to other people I wonder? It's a mystery for the ages. Maybe it does and no one is fessing up?

All was not lost though, we got some fun pictures (and contraband 6+ candy) and since the average age of the group (excluding me) is under 2 they thought it was the best hunt they've ever experienced. Plus, let's all remember that just having Rachel stay over was enough to make Jo's year. This whole egg hunt experience was just so much icing on the cake to her. Oh please be 3 forever. 

Foreign Service Rules: Borrow a Pet

I think we can safely declare our little clan to be animal lovers. Jo for the longest time would tell people I was growing a purple kitten instead of a baby sister for her. We had a dog when Jo was little and, in hindsight, he was the best. I wish Jo had memories of him other than what I've told her. He was a great dog for a baby.
So, here we find ourselves without a pet and joining the Foreign Service and therefore committing ourselves for the near future to not having a pet. You are more than welcome to have a pet in the Foreign Service and in fact many of our colleagues in the same position are already in possession of pets. We just don't want the extra hassle, heartbreak and budget headaches. However, a solution presents itself:

 Dog sitting! Since we are dog lovers (some of us can even extend our love to cats) this is a gig we are totally up for. Meet Tanq, who we met in the elevator (I am always doing that thing where I talk to the dog and not the owner - much like people do with my girls. I absolutely understand it - kids and dogs are just inherently easier to talk to then real grown-up sized humans. How will I talk to people in pubic places when my children are grown???) and then jumped at the chance to dog sit when his owner threw it out on the class listserv.

And while Tanq does appreciate a cuddle (especially when his smallest groupie is on the move) it turns out his most favourite bed of all is freshly folded laundry.

 

No complaints from me, it just means I don't have to put it away, right?