Marbling Mania

Monday was a rather drizzly kind of day. I taught swimming lessons in the morning and we got poured on. A little rain means little when you're planning on getting wet anyway. Just as we decided to finish swimming the rain started letting up...but then it started thundering. We were able to go to the museum on the afternoon, which was good because my arsenal of quiet indoor activities was nearly depleted and the kids needed a good romp around. When Tuesday ended up even more rainy I thought I might pull my hair out.

But then I saw a picture a friend had posted of her son marbling some paper and *presto!* a bicker-free afternoon commenced. (Thanks, April!) The method they were using seemed a lot more involved (like, they had an actual tray of liquid, which seemed less than ideal with Benjamin around) so we went with a method that I used in my childcare class in high school—shaving cream! Which, by the way, we happen to have quite a lot of.

Every time Andrew comes home from grocery shopping he seems to bring home a can or two. "They keep giving us coupons!" he claims. "Great! But, hypothetically speaking, we're moving in a year. How much shaving cream can you use in one year?" I keep asking.

As of Monday we have one less can to use. Not that I'm counting down to moving...but we seriously have so much shaving cream stored in our bathroom. It's getting a bit ridiculous.

Anyway, I guess it's technically shaving gel, which meant we had to lather it up ourselves, which the kids didn't mind thoroughly enjoyed. Ideally this project uses actual shaving cream, which I guess comes out pre-lathered. Confession: I've never exactly used shaving cream...so...

Once our shaving gel was nice and foamy we added some food colouring, swirled it around...

Happy birthday to me

My birthday request was maple doughnuts, something that we've had trouble finding down here. They probably have them somewhere and if we were more foodie I suppose we'd know where to find them (but I dunno because I just checked Monuts' menu and they don't have maple doughnuts listed, so...). Anyway, Andrew picked up some Krispy Kreme doughnuts on his way home from work/school (our first time stopping by there ever but I said that grocery store doughnuts wouldn't do for my birthday) and he made some maple glaze to dip the doughnuts in.

They turned out lovely.

Timeout for mommy

Once upon a time Zoë stayed up until three o'clock in the morning and then woke up for the day at 8:30. And then didn't take a nap until 5:30 (and not for lack of trying)! I'm not convinced she would have even settled down for a nap except that I eventually put myself in timeout, behind my closed bedroom door and she was so relieved that I came back out that she nursed to sleep (finally). 

Anyway, while I was doing some deep breathing in my room the girls went to their rooms to read (smart kids) while Benjamin entertained himself with the camera.

He took a dozen (or so) selfies:

Pine Knoll Aquarium (June 21)

Our morning started with snuggles, of course. As much as Benjamin and Zoë fight, they sure do love each other. They can't start a single day without snuggling together.

Just because it's June

Late last night, just as Zoë was finally closing her eyes, Andrew screamed.

"What?" I asked.

"There was a huge spider on me!" he said. "It was just sitting on the collar of my shirt. I looked down and there it was, right by my neck!"

"Where is it now?" I asked.

"I don't know!" he said. "I flicked it off! Oh! There it is, right there!"

It was rather large, and it was just sitting on a pillow watching us.

"That is the weirdest looking spider I've ever seen," I said.

"I don't think it's a spider," Andrew said. "It's only got six legs..."

As it turns out, it was an assassin beetle nymph (mostly likely for a wheel bug (a type of assassin beetle)). They're mostly harmless but do bite if handled roughly (and their bite can be quite nasty). The reason they're called assassin beetles is because they're hunters—they use their big proboscis to inject their prey with a toxin that dissolves their insides so they can suck it out. Delightful.

Emerald Isle

When my dad was stationed at Camp Lejeune one of his favourite beaches to visit was Emerald Isle.

Now, our family has been to several beaches in North Carolina. We've been to Carolina Beach, Kure Beach, Atlantic Beach, and Wrightsville Beach. We've dipped our toes in at Ocracoke, danced in the spray at Cape Lookout, and chilled at a beach house in Salvo. Our favourite beach to visit though has been North Topsail—which has taken us by Camp Lejeune on several occasions. But we've never quite managed to make it to Emerald Isle (which is rather funny considering how it's sandwiched between the North Topsail and Atlantic beaches).

But with my dad in town we figured we'd strike out for Emerald Isle—and it did not disappoint! Its beaches were beautiful, the ocean was perfect, and the public bathhouse was swoon-worthy.

You might not think it possible to swoon over a public bathhouse, but you guys! I swooned. It was clean and well-lit and not at all stinky. North Topsail has a public bathhouse, too, but it's dingy and stinky and scary.

To its credit, North Topsail beach is always free—the parking, the bathhouse, everything. Emerald Isle has a bit of a catch: it costs $10 (per car, per day) on weekends and holidays (but we visited on a Monday so it was free). But, frankly, I'd probably be willing to fork out that much just for the privilege of having such a fabulous bathhouse close by because *swoon*.

And did I mention the ocean was perfect?

Fort Macon

Our first stop of the day on Monday was Fort Macon. There's a little environmental museum in the visitors center, which we all enjoyed exploring.

Here's Miriam being harpooned:

The Asphalt Spill of '85

Eventually I'll get my posts about the rest of my parents' visit up, but for now I'll keep alluding to our excursions before you've even heard about them. 

At Fort Macon we went through the little museum at the visitors center and I found this little poster (which I vaguely remember coming across in October) about "The Asphalt Spill of '85," which just happened to occur on June 22, 1985 while my mother was busy birthing me.

In your face

My biggest birthday wish was that my kids would be cheerful and happy helpers today and while it took a while to get them motivated they eventually pitched in and we got our house mostly put back together. Sheet changing and laundry and unpacking and laundry and tidying and laundry and then some more laundry.

When we'd finished our work we settled down for some quiet time (that involved a nap for me and Zoë and a show for the older kids) and then the girls made some (interesting but not terribly intoxicating 2-ingredient banana/oatmeal cookies) and we had some lunch. Our plan was to walk to the pool after lunch (Daddy had the van today) so that we could do something fun together for my birthday...not just work the whole day.

So after lunch we started getting ready to head to the pool—the kids changed into swimming suits and started lathering each other with sunscreen on the front porch while I was gathering up things in the house (freshly laundered beach towels, for example). When they were mostly finished with their sunscreening and had started playing in the yard I brought Zoë out to them so that I could lug the stroller out of the house without her toddling right behind me.

I put her down in the grass, Rachel came over to pick her up, I went inside the house, picked up the stroller and...CHAOS erupted. All of my children were screaming at once. I dropped the stroller and ran to the door in time to meet Rachel, who handed me a screaming, bleeding Zoë.

"Benjamin hit her with a water gun!" she blurted out.

"Excuse me," I said, pushing past her through the door in time to see Benjamin duck down to hide behind the electrical box. "Yeah, you'd better hide!" I hollered and then turned around to go back inside.

"Aren't you going to punish him?" Rachel asked.

"Yes," I said. "But right now I need to focus on Zoë."

"Should I bring him to you so you can stick him in time out?" she asked.

"Naw," I said. "Let him live in fear for a little while."

Ermergersh! It's New Bern!

We spent a couple of nights at a hotel in New Bern. I realize that the city has a rich history (it was named after Bern, Switzerland (before Bern was the capitol of Switzerland) and was once the capitol of North Carolina (before Raleigh was the capitol, obviously)) but all I could think of, for whatever reason, was the ermergersh girl.

If I was in charge of marketing for the maternity ward of the hospital in New Bern this would definitely be on a billboard:

This is obviously why I'm not in marketing. You're welcome.