The No-Fail Money-Saving Solution

If you're like us, you are on a strict budget; all purchases are accounted for on an engineer-designed Excel spreadsheet.

And if you're like us, it is easy to spend more than you have. Veeery easy.

But today Bethany discovered a way anyone--anyone!--can always--always!--stay within budget.

It's quite simple, really. Here's how:

All you have to do is take two overtired and cranky children, just before nap time, to the store. The older one is whining in the cart. The baby is screaming while strapped to you. Their moods force you to limit your shopping to the bare essentials.

There. You save yourself a lot of money by avoiding the cookie, clothing, and jewelry sections of Wal-Mart. Cha-ching! Within budget.

Oh, but you can save even more:

You, with your crying babies, enter the self-checkout line to save yourself time and whiz out of there. You scan all items. You're ready to pay. You dig through your purse. Nursing cover. Nursing pads. Size six diapers. Size three diapers. Wipes. Old receipts. Mini Bible. Pen. Old gum in wadded-up paper. New gum. Lip gloss. Another pen.

No wallet. Forgot to put it in purse.

NO WALLET.

That, friends, is the no-fail money-saving solution.

It'll work to keep those bucks in the bank.

Every time.

Guaranteed.


OK, an old picture, but worth the wait. Sam's camera takes the best pictures. (Maybe Sam herself has something to do with it.) This is a just-acquired shot from last blog's Tricycle Party. Let 'er roll.


Last weekend involved the arrival of Liz from Indiana, two baby showers, the surprise arrival of a far-off relative (to be announced later)... Much excitement! The shower Bethany organized was a Diaper Party for her friend Kelly, who is due May 1st. Here is Kelly with her beautiful mama.


Poor Zeke had to be the male representative at the shower. Julie DeJong bounced him expertly, like maybe--just maybe--she's done this before.


Fortunately for Zeke, Poppy did not hide too far from this shower, and the two indulged in a little male bonding.


R B L Z minus L.


YAY for Liz. Let's hear it shouted around the world. She's that wonderful.


Lizeke.


Luke's happy because a certain someone arrived from Ohio...


Dut-Dut! None of us was expecting to see Gracie for the next year; she has travels planned up the wazoo. We were cleaning up from the baby shower, tending to the boys... and there at the door appeared the long-lost auntie. We were shocked! She introduced herself with a good one-liner: "I've got a nephew to meet."


And a nephew and niece and sister to re-meet.


Then Monday brought Ya-Ya! We had a wonderful time with her last week...


...and Luke, in particular, got to go on many an adventure with Ya-Ya while Zeke was the milk glutton back at home. Luke got to drive tractors,


show Ya-Ya where all the bunnies hide,


drink Starbucks "hot chocolate",


decorate the sidewalk,


pose on his motorcycle,


lounge in the sand,


fly with Ya-Ya Airlines,


careen down slides,


swing like a monkey,


prevent Mom and Dad from ever becoming grandparents,


experiment with speed-enhancing slide techniques,


shovel like a real workman,


pet cows,


play in piles...


...and all that activity earned himself a mightybig appetite. (Especially tasty because Ya-Ya made it. We decided we should have her move in with us as Two-Year-Old Entertainer, Dishwasher, and Chef.)


Zeke is so responsive to people, and interacts with sweet goos, grins, and laughs, if you're lucky. He loved his Ya-Ya.


And Ya-Ya loved him, too.


Mama and her little Zekers.


Ya-Ya with the same handsome man.


And Ya-Ya with both her boys.


On Ya-Ya's last morning with us, we took her to one of Luke's favorite hang-out spots: the UCD airport. Here they lounge while waiting for a nonexistent landing plane. Too windy to see any action.


As if Zeke wanted action anyway. Ya-Ya was all he needed to conk right to sleep.


Though there were no planes, all the tractors were there, of course, at the adjacent Antique Tractor Museum. All of a sudden, our big boy seemed very small.

And then we had to come home, prepare for nap time, and bid our Ya-Ya farewell. Luke woke up from his nap (during which time Ya-Ya disappeared) and in a high-pitched, groggy little voice called from his bed, "Ya-Ya, come back! Ya-Ya, come back!" He got out of bed and searched the apartment for his Ya-Ya, even opening the front door to check outside. It was the saddest little sight you ever saw. :-(


On to a happier subject.


Look up, little man!


Zeke looks awfully cute in our bright-orange stroller, and wonder of wonders (something we're not used to from a baby): He stays pretty happy in it, too!


Nothing is tastier than a thumb. Far better than the pinky, let me tell ya!


Melter.


Lounger, with Serious Face on, of course.


"Gee willakers, this is some good old-fashioned fun!"


Hanging out.


Representin' his pops.


Meltin' his mama.




Smashin' the lippers.




Playin' reeal cool.


Only appropriate that the two boys pose near a noise-maker.


Sundays give us an excuse to dress Zeke up cute.


"Look at my fancy hand!"


Bluuuuuuh to YOU!


Church these days is a little different. Distracting. This Sunday, the men had the babies in the back.


And loved it.


After church: Follow Dad for the free Sunday food. Waiting...


Forcing a picture with Mom.


The oldest and youngest Armstrong men show off their palm-tree shirts.


Meanwhile, Luke sported his new shirt from Poppy and Grammy, advertising his new pedaling skills.


"This here, Grandson, is very, very bad for you. Stay away."


Count on Sarah to sit at Dos Coyotes and pull out an In N Out locations list. Hamburger envy. (We had actually gone to In N Out first, but opted for Dos after a tour bus pulled into the In N Out parking lot and people teemed out and beat us in.) (Only to Sarah was it worth the wait.) (She was outvoted.)


The Monday came... another week. Life as usual.




If Luke ever picks up a noodle and blows it at you, blame it on his mom.


"Get me out of here!!!"


"And Luke, I've had ENOUGH!"


"One more poke, Zeet, one more poke." (Luke sees Mommy putting her finger in Zeke's mouth for him to suck when he's sad, and tries the same trick. Doesn't go over so well.)


Our striped little fist-sucker. (First-tooth prediction: within the next two weeks.)


Da brudders.


It is a scary thing when you let your children pick out their own clothes.


His Cheekness.


Bald = Handsome, at least when the subject is three months old. HAPPY THREE MONTHS, LITTLE MAN!!!


The great news about Zeke's old age is that he finally fits into the old O'Neill sweatshirt. He is getting mighty big! At his 3-month checkup he was nearly 90% on both height and weight charts. Thatta boy!


This is why we love the black sweatshirt. It looks so darn handsome!


Luke on his three-month birthday with biiiig eyes.


Zeke, equally aged, and equally afraid of the flash.


Luke, again, on his three-month birthday.


And Zeke on his.


We'll close this much-too-long blog with our two new favorite pictures of the boys. Luke, who has just learned how to cross his eyes.


And Zeke, the cutest little three-month-old alive. (We're allowed to be biased.)