The Spinach Pizza

Jeb was gone on a trip from early Thursday morning to very late Sunday night. You know what they say about when dad is away, right? No, not the kids will play, but the kids (and mom) will not clean the house, do the laundry or dishes, or even get out of their pajamas for almost the entire time he is gone. Aaaah. Feels good.


Until we realize that we only have a matter of hours to make it look like we were productive every minute that he was gone.


So, Sunday night, we start the race to see who can clean up the most and the fastest. We also added a new parameter to the game - who can do it with the least amount of attitude. Thanks, Abigail for that new slant!!! The prize at the end of this race was pizza. Not just any pizza, though. Our favorite garlic chicken Alfredo pizza with cheese bread sticks. Aaaah, again. Feels so good.

We completed the race with only a handful of warnings ("Why are you walking around with nothing in your hands?" and the old "One more, Abigail, and you will lose the attitude category"). The pizza was ordered. Unfortunately, our lovely neighborhood pizza man reports that he no longer has our most prized pie. The closest they have is a spinach Alfredo pizza that he can put chicken on (and no. You cannot take the spinach off. It is mixed in with the sauce. We asked, thank you). I figure it is worth the spinach to get the rest of the deliciousness and go ahead and place the order, cheese bread included.

We interrupt this post to address the fact that we are ordering pizza on a Sunday. Yes, we know it is wrong. Yes we felt bad that somebody was working on a Sunday for us. Yes, we will probably not do this again for a long, long time. But, it was this or starving, angry children who would then cry All. Night. Long. about how they had to clean AND THEN have to have Ramen noodles for dinner. There would be no way I could have enlisted the 4 days worth of needed help with only Ramens to offer up. No way. Back to the regularly scheduled post.

Once the pizza arrives at our house, the kids are all worn out but excited. I unveil our lovely dinner only to hear silence in the room. "The green stuff is just spinach. It's cooked and covered in sauce and you won't be able to taste it. Besides, spinach is super healthy for you." I say to the 4 disgusted faces surrounding the table. Harrison is the only one to voice a reply. He says "when I look at the pizza, it makes my eyes want to cry" and then he stars rubbing his eyes and begins the sniffling.

Hudson's response was classic. I got lots of this...

And then even more of this...

I finally convinced everyone to just try a little, teeny bite and see if they could even tell the difference. I promise them loads of strength and growth potential with every leafy bite. Once they do, they are pleasantly surprised. And surprisingly, after waiting just a little while with no alternative for Hudson, he begins to eat it up. Spinach Success.

I didn't even have to reward (bribe, coerce, whatever) them with any kind of sugary dessert, either. Hallelujah for that.

Buster Blue Eyes

Here is an update on our sweet screamer, Hudson.

He is a crazy monkey. He and Leah are learning to get along better every day that their older siblings are gone. Which is good, since they were really getting on each other's nerves.

Hudson runs everywhere. It's funny to watch him since he runs so funny. I'm not sure what it is, but he doesn't quite get his arms into the motion. He looks just like those old clips of Babe Ruth running the bases that kind of look like they are on fast forward, but they really aren't. He just has short legs and his arms are a little wacky.

When he eats, he still eats just like he did when he was tiny. He sticks his tongue all the way out to get a bite. He does this for everything. Want a drink? Out comes the tongue. Want a bite of peaches? He opens wide and unfurls the welcome mat.

My favorite thing about him is his hair. I will NOT cut it. I refuse. I have never had a curly haired baby before, and I'm going to enjoy it as long as I can. When we do his hair, it looks really great and I am justified in my refusal to let any cutting instrument anywhere near his lovely locks.

But most of the time, we don't do his hair. This is when his dad screams for the barber. I understand, since he looks like this more days than not.

We sure love our Doc Hudson. He is too, too much fun. His squeals, growls, funny faces, and oh so nice leg hugs make our day. Now, if I can just get him to say mom, I'd like him that much more.