We live in a small town. There are not a lot of great restaurants from which to choose.
Nor are there a lot of upscale boutiques, organic grocery store chains, or places to consistently hear great live music.
The trade off is that we get to spend a lot of time with family. Our boys get to see not only their grandparents, but also great aunts, uncles, and cousins. While I may get frustrated from time to time with my hometown, my boys certainly would rather have it this way.
And so would I.
You know you are in for a good southern meal when the buffet line starts with Sunbeam white bread, and is followed by a series of crock-pots (no one here calls it a slow cooker).
Grateful for the freedoms our country affords us, and grateful for such loving families!! As the Biscuit says, "Happy Birthday America!"
The Bean is a lot to handle these days. He is always right, and never wants help. I recently saw an ecard on facebook that said, "Hell hath no fury like a three year old who has the wrong color sippy cup." That is the Bean.
Though against the rules, he's been going to the refridgerator by himself, and opening yogurts. He'll take two bites and then want to throw the rest away. It's not really the yogurt he wants, but the independent act of getting something out of the refridgerator. Time outs weren't working, so now we make him stay in the kitchen and finish the yogurt. This time he didn't even bother taking the chair (used to confiscate the yogurt from the top shelf of the refridgerator) to the table.
The Biscuit had tacky day at school. I totally forgot about it, and boy did I hear about when I went to pick him up. I will not be forgetting a school dress-up day again any time soon. To make up for it, I told him he could be tacky the next day, even though it wasn't a dress-up day (or a school day).
A box turned clubhouse. I wish I could say that it provided hours of entertainment, but this only lasted about 10 minutes.