Yeah! We’ve Got Cake!

It’s that time of year again where Boy Scouts celebrate Blue & Gold with cake decorating.Given last year’s epic fail I was a bit nervous.  So, I had a few ground rules: no fancy cakes involving cutting up the cake, no fancy cakes that require decorating skill, and no fancy cakes.

Sam was happy to oblige.

It is Boy Scouts after all, so he went with a camping theme.  These fishies apparently like to jump out of the water.

We got the fire started before setting up the tent.  Mostly because I was afraid we’d have no more ‘rocks’ or ‘logs’ to sit on.  (Robin’s Eggs easter candy and Charleston Chews)

One happy camper.

Leprechaun Trap


We’re starting to brainstorm new leprechaun traps to get ready for St. Patrick’s Day.  Inventors should always look over their previous designs, so here’s one from two years ago that I thought for sure would work!

Sam wanted to make sure our trap didn’t look suspicious. This science project was his brainchild. Anabelle offered up her special rocks including the GOLD that she sifted in the Wild West on a preschool trip. We glued the small gold bits to a bigger rock.  Then the family, um, scientifically labeled the remaining rocks.

Again, not to look suspicious, we needed something that looked sort of like a lamp decoration over the table.

You see, the Leprechaun would attempt to pick up the gold (that is attached to a bigger rock) which would release the rope and send the trap slamming down.

Unfortunately, our plan still didn’t work.

EWwwww. green slime all over our science project (the kids shouted Hooray as Mom hates slime) and a pile of gold – no, actually yummy chocolate covered caramels.
Happy kids and a happy St. Patty’s Day!

Tales of Leprechaun Days Past

After much research (Family Fun Magazine) the kids wanted to make a leprechaun trap.  Notice the lucky charms, and ‘fake gold’ as a trap.  Underneath that is a hole we put in the construction paper, in hopes of catching us a leprechaun.  And being woodland creatures, a ladder made of twigs leading to a rainbow would be perfect.  To top it off, apparently leps find rule-breaking to be as sweet as honey, thus the sign…

And so they went to bed, and waited….
The next morning we all gathered around the trap.  Wondering, listening, sniffing.  Hmm.  If I were trapped and someone tried to grab me, you bet I would be kicking and biting.  Hence, the gloves.

Sam opened the tiny scroll.
See if you can read the tiny Lep’s handwriting.
Did you know if you try to catch a leprechaun and don’t, they play pranks?!?

Not pictured:  The green toilet water in all the bathrooms.

Sleepwalking and Fire

I’m glad I can spot these slippers in the dead of night.  They’ve been getting a lot of use lately.

It used to be that I was the only one to sleepwalk and sleeptalk.  I once woke my mom to ask if I could watch a movie.  I once said, “Shame on you. Shame on you.” I had no idea what my parents were talking about the next day.  When first married, I still carried on talking.  Once my husband placed a sound-activated tape recorder by my bedside.  The result was very entertaining.  I kept telling a bus driver that we wouldn’t be riding with him.

But once I had my own children, I seemed to stop… unless you count the automatic response to a call of a baby/child.  I don’t seem to fully wake up before I’m already in their rooms.

My children, however, seem to be just entering this stage.  Sam came down the stairs when I was shutting down the house.  “I wish, I wish, I wish…” he repeated.

“Sam, what do you wish?”

He blinked suddenly and stared at me, confused. “I don’t wish anything!  What are you talking about?”

“Go to bed, Sam.”

He nodded.  “Okay.”

I found such episodes cute and amusing, until this week when he woke me up in the middle of the night.


I’m sure that ranks as one of the most terrifying things you could hear in the middle of the night.  I jumped out of bed, heart racing, and sniffed, expecting to smell smoke.

“Fire!”  I ran towards Sam’s room and his call and flipped on the light switch.  “Fire,” he called again, this time more softly.

“Sam!”  I shouted, looking around the room and coming out of my sleep fog enough to realize there wasn’t a fire.

His eyes fluttered open.  “You see the smoke?”

“There’s no smoke, Sam.”

He smiled a sleepy smile.  “Oh good.  Sugar (our dog) saw Dad cooking and you put her in the bathroom and smoke started coming out of the bathroom.  I think Sugar started the fire.”

I shut of the light, not amused, until I went back to bed and imagined what that dream must have been like.

The next day I woke up to calls of, “Seriously?  Seriously!”  It sounded like just the sort of exasperation I’d hear from my youngest.  Sure enough, she was deep in debate with someone, with her eyes closed.

I just have to say that I’m so thankful for coffee.  And we might put a stop to reading exciting books at bedtime.  Anyone want to share their sleepwalking/talking stories?  Or ways to curb it?