Pecked by Ducks

So today (yesterday? I know, I know, I always post after midnight, but I am still awake so it counts as today right? Right? ) is/was my birthday. I’m 35. I’m pretty okay with that. I don’t really have any age issues yet except maybe I wish I was less tired, but really maybe not posting after midnight would help with this.

I have been in sort of a funk though. My grandmother passed away, I went on a diet, my oldest started kindergarten and our au pair’s year is up in about 3 weeks. Good things, sad things. Thing things I guess. But I need to get myself back into the swing of things. (Too many things? Yah, I thought so.) Anyhoo, my hubby is taking me away for the weekend, somewhere close by, I’m not sure where. Also, I have been wanting a talisman to proclaim that Karen is getting her sass back! Something to physically announce the reclamation of time and self I have been longing for.

Naturally this makes me think of fun, funky, sassy new haircut. I know, you too right? So I went to this new place (not to be mentioned) and had this done to me. Not quite the sass I was looking for. @dasparky and my sister @MaThuRRell suggested I go back to the salon and try to get them to make right their wrong and so I did. The results are less flippy frizz and more sass, but we shall see how it looks after a wash-and-go tomorrow morning. For now, here are the results.

Also today, in honor of my birthday, I decided to let my children torture me and we made carrot cake mini cupcakes from scratch. The boys had their chairs pulled up to the counter, they were doing a fabulous job taking turns, and we had just finished piping the batter into the mini muffin tins, when Quinn executed a perfect slow motion fall between the two chairs, pulling two full muffin tins of unbaked cupcake batter on top of himself.

I am a bad, bad mother.

I could do nothing to help him for a full 45 seconds through my hysterical and uncontrollable giggling. I finally got his arms out of his shirt and rolled it up so that we could pull it off over his head without spreading more gunk in his hair. AND he finally decided that he was more mad at me than hurt or upset, so here he is, mad at me because I am still giggling and taking pictures of him and his inside out t-shirt. Poor boy-a-lah! I felt so bad I let him and Max lick all the cream cheese frosting utensils.

forgot to take a picture of the other side of the kitchen and the ceiling. Yes, the ceiling!

Clearly the frosting on yours is better than mine. Hey, at least they are sharing.

Yum!

Are you done taking pictures?

How about now?