after a full week in which we ate, breathed and slept book fair, with lucy doing this on and off during long days of working it, we welcomed in valentine’s with open arms.  it was my birthday too.  it is every year.  a valentine’s twofer.  all i wanted was to get our book fair packed up and shipped off and then crawl home, don my pjs and hold down the couch for the evening.  that and some new sunglasses and dinner from marie catribs with her amazing gluten free carrot cake. it was lovely. 
there were valentine’s bags for all, with little trinkets and sweets and rock hammers.  
only for peter, my rock hound. tess would have been devastated to find a rock hammer in her bag.  and you’d have to be pretty unsmart to give lucy anything resembling a tool.
 boy nearly danced a jig to rip open that bubble wrap and find the rock hammer he’d been saving for.  that might have been my favorite part of the day. 
 unfortunately, all the rocks were buried under several inches of snow, so we had to find other ways to enjoy a four day weekend.  namely, heading north to crystal mountain for a couple days of skiing, during which lucy won the most congenial skier award from her ski school and tess mastered her turns and grant did his first 180 and peter did his first black diamond and i sweated through my long johns before we even got out of the car and then froze my tushie off and couldn’t convince anyone in my crazy family to go in and get hot cocoa with me.  i tried bribing them with candy.  i tried everything.  they all wanted to keep skiing even though it was 13.  even though their mama’s boogers were frozen and she couldn’t feel her toes.  
there was a glimmer of hope when tess saw a sign for the spa and asked if we could go there together.  hope that maybe in the near future i can ski for a couple hours and then bribe her with the spa.  there is hope.
 i don’t know what you call it, but around here it goes by the name of ‘golden grant’s’.  always had.  and until this morning, no one has ever raised a fuss about not having their own cereal.  and so i did what any mother would do and promptly renamed them all for my progeny: wheat-tess, cris-peter and lucy original (but only because i only buy lucy-charms on vacay).  all moms do do stuff like this right? 
happy wednesday.
this is me being real.  needing some levity after catching up with the season finale of downton abbey.  how dare they?  how dare they?

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