That's a lot of pizza.

It may seem like 50-pound bag of flour arriving at your door from Italy isn't going to be enough. But you might just need a little perspective.

No pants dance.

When good parties go bad... when bad parties go good?

Hot.

Some parents buy their kids pools for summer...
And some let their kid "swim" in four inches of old, melted ice.

8 is great.

Here are a couple cute pics from Bethie's recent 8th birthday party.

Bethie looks like she could be Jeff's kid here!

At Luke's party last month, they had a Sponge Bob pinata. After the party, Jeff asked him what he did at the party. Marco said, "Sponge Bob got hurt! And I got lollipops!"

"I'm working now."

"Mama! Look at me. I working now. Hello? It Marco. Okay, okay. I missin you. Bye."

Simply cute pics.

Hey Everybody!

As I'm sure you know, Marco has been climbing out of his crib for a long time. We curbed the habit with the sleepsack for months. Number one question: Yes, they come in his size. Bigger even!

Well, after a week of him stealthily climbing out of his crib multiple times per night, opening his door and going downstairs, we decided there was no way to avoid it.

Enter the big boy bed. Marco's moniker: The Boy Boy Bed. He's very proud of the thing and is quick to announce it, "Hey everybody! Want to see my boy boy bed together?"

Right away, he let us know that he could still clear the sides. Great.

Every person I talk to tells me this is such an easy transition. "My [enter angelic child name here] never even got out of bed in the morning! He/she would always call for me." Riiiight.

Four days in. Marco's personal best is only getting up one time during the night. The good news is that he seems to be sleeping later. This could be because it takes him longer to get to bed or because he's tired from his middle of the night antics.

Anyway, the boy boy bed is no picnic. But cute all the same.

Cooking with Marco!

Marco is obsessed with "helping you cook." That, combined with pounds of flour, makes for a messy (albeit fun) experience.

Mama hurt my finger.

In a low parenting moment, I pinched Marco's finger in a door jam. Here he is ratting me out to Grammy. "Mama hurt my finger. I get Dora bandaid. On my finger, not my thumb."

Is my baby a big boy?

Sometimes you just need a little perspective.

Put me in Coach.

This year, Jeff started hobbling and complaining of soreness before his high school alumni game. He was sore at the mere thought of pitching one inning.

Here are some shots of the real show.

The Easter Bunny rings once.

We spent a few weeks explaining the Easter Bunny to Marco. It was a useful tool to bribe him to stay in his crib, "no climbing out if you want the Easter Bunny to bring treats!"

He was pretty confused by the whole thing and told anyone who would listen that the Easter Bunny rings the doorbell and Grammy answers. ??

We went with it and put his basket on the doorstep Easter morning.

He also loved dying eggs... with his barbeque tongs, of course.

The gang.

Daycare says Brooke and Marco are the leaders of some sort of gang. It includes rough housing, exclusion and, of course, coercion. I mean, could you believe these two could hurt a fly?

Alright, I can see it just a little.

The naked truth.

I'm getting out of the shower. Marco says to me, "Mama, you naked baby. Put your stuff on and we go downstairs."
Unrelated photo: Marco is upgraded from the car to the motorcycle at the "barber shop."