Of course, we met with this moderate homework happiness just days before the beginning of ski week (or, for those of us who don't ski, "Cabin Fever Week"), so that did nothing for our momentum. Hopefully come next Monday, Ethan will remember the feeling of satisfaction he got from
Also, last week was the sugar-coated Valentines Day extravaganza in Ethan's class. They did things like play Valentines Day Bingo, create Valentines cards by gluing conversation hearts onto construction paper (I can't tell you how many kids tried to eat the conversation hearts off of their cards--complete with glue--after they finished them; nor do I care to expound upon how many kids ate the conversation hearts out of the bowls after their classmates had pawed them repeatedly, looking for just the right sentiment of "U R the best" and "U R my honey pie" to glue to their papers. I can only imagine that every child in that class is at home right now, stricken with plague. ::Shudder::)
Ethan made this cookie:
and actually ate it. I didn't get a picture of the cookie consumption because I was too busy calculating the grams of sugar and the counting the different artificial food dyes my child was ingesting. And figuring, based on those calculations, exactly how terrible of a mother I actually am. Then I remembered he weighs 40lbs soaking wet and Valentines Day happens once a year, and I let it go. Ahhh, the power of rationalization!
Also, my parents were visiting last week, which means we watched a lot of golf. Even the cat watched a lot of golf.
And just so we could say we did more than watch golf on TV while we ate snacks on the couch, we actually got in our cars and drove down to Pebble Beach. To watch people play golf in the flesh, while we ate snacks on the terrace.
Husband and Ethan trying out the latest in golf hat fashions in the pro shop.
I'm not sure if Ethan's playing golf or baseball here, but whatevs.
The shmancy lodge on the 18th green.
Hey there, classy guy.
Oh look!!! People playing golf! (photo courtesy of Ethan)
We sat outside with the sun burning holes in our brains while we waited for the slowest waitresses ever in the history of waitressing to bring us $20 plates of beets and goat cheese.
Then Ethan and I took a walk down to the green, where we took pictures of ourselves and golf carts. Like you do.
When we walked back to the deck to see if our waitress had emerged with the fancy appetizers and beverages, Ethan took the camera from me and began what I can only imagine will be a long and illustrious career as a portrait photographer. Look out, Annie Lebowitz.
One can't venture down to Pebble Beach without at least racing at breakneck speeds (i.e. 35mph) through 17-mile drive. So we did, stopping at the most touristy and crowded spots to ooh & aahh at the site of trees, rocks and tons of bird poop.
The GPS thought maybe we should stop...you know, before we drove right off the cliff and into the ocean...
The lone cypress--which really looks like two lone cypresses, which wouldn't make it lone at all, now would it?
My dad pointing out otters or sea lions to Ethan. Although, given my dad's history of erroneously identifying marine life, it was probably just a surfer.
Waves being all crashy and whatnot.
"Bird Rock" which was actually lousy with sea lions (hardly a bird in sight), bellowing at each other and generally disturbing the peace.
Afterwards we drove home and I'm pretty sure we watched more golf.