Wherein nothing happened

So...whatcha dooooooin'?
Have you ever seen Phineas and Ferb? Seriously? That is one of our family's favorite shows. Dr. Doofenschmirtz is our favorite character and Hunter can imitate him to a T. So funny.
We've been a little bit busy lately and honestly? I haven't felt like blogging when I've got a free second or two, literally.
Sometimes I'll remember in the back of my head that I have a blog. And there was a time when I used to be faithful at keeping it up. And I loved it and it was so much fun and yadda yadda yadda. But now all I can think of is "chocolate babies." Heee heee snortle. That's a funny story. Remind me to tell you about it one time. (Thanks for that little ditty Hickman fam!)
I wish I could say that we've been doing super exciting things to make you all totally jealous, but nope. Not so much. Just stuff. Like...
Hunter's track team went to Districts and now they will be going on to State next (or is it this?) week.
Mother's Day. (Which was fabulous, by the way.)
Cleaning and recleaning and re-recleaning the house. (Although you wouldn't know it to look at it right now, even though it's only been 10 minutes since I mopped the floor.)
Scouts.
School.
De-cluttering.
Playtime with Layna.
Yard work.
Laundry. i.e., wash, fold, put away (or in my case, pile it in the kids' rooms for them to put away/stash on their beds under their covers.), and repeat. Again and again. And again. For good measure.
One fun thing that I was able to (happily) ignore my chores for was a scrapbook I made for my Pop-in-law's birthday. That was super fun!
Oh! We did make a trip to the beach! Did I already tell you that? Pics to come. They're loaded on the big computer and it's so much easier to hop on the laptop and tippity tap away than it is to walk all the way back to my bedroom and turn on the big one. I know. Spoiled, right?
Speaking of spoiled, I'm still taking banjo lessons and they are going well. Except for the fact that my teacher basically told me that he can't help me anymore unless I PRACTICE. But when do I have time to do that? Every time I sit down to play, my sweet mother-needing children always, without fail, need me for something. WITHOUT FAIL. But, I'm happy to help them. Unless it's help with waxing their eyelashes or feet or plucking the hairs from their noses. (Someone's been learning about puberty in their health classes.) Hey, a mom's gotta draw the line somewhere, right?
Ummmm...ummm...umm. What else?
Gosh. When it's all typed out and written down, that doesn't sound like much. But it is.
So there you have it.
I'm sure some day I'll be looking back on these times, wishing for them to return, and I'll turn to my Michael and say something like, "Remember when dot dot dot? Ah, those were the days, right? Right?" And he will have no choice but to agree with me because by then he'll be deaf (either genuinely deaf or pretending to be) and he will nod his head, smile sweetly and ask me to play him that haunting tune I learned on my banjo all those years ago. I will respond with a smack of my lips because by then I will be toothless (either genuinely a gummer or pretending to be - we believe in make believe) and the pickin' will begin.

Me and Soozee showing our mad skillz with the feet. Only a few possess this ability.

P.S. By the way: There was also that one time when my mom came to town and we went and saw WICKED and she sewed skirts and we hunted and ate Easter Eggs and ham-(not to be confused with Green Eggs and Ham) and it rained and there were frogs in the yard and cats in the car. Thanks for the reminder Mama!