what's up weekly. (we got a very small new house, and Finneas turned 10!)

This week was a doozy!  Lots to share.  Unfortunately, one of the news items on the docket is that we've been sick, and I currently feel that decapitating myself slowly with something blunt might be a less painful means of existence than continuing to live with this headache.  So imma do my best to keep things abbreviated, but it will be hard - there was a lot of fun stuff happening here this week! 

First and foremost, I need to acknowledge Finneas, who has survived TEN WHOLE YEARS of life on this planet, running with the throttle wide open.  I would say I'm a little surprised he hasn't gotten into truly catastrophic hijinx yet, but then again, Finneas can do whatever he puts his mind to, and this boy wants to LIVE.  He is extremely extroverted, and extremely funny, and extremely sweet.  (Are you noticing a pattern?)  He is quick-witted, tenderhearted, and eagle-eyed.  He and Rocco are thick as thieves.  He adds so much color to life, and I couldn't live without him.

Penelope made him a cake.

To celebrate his birthday, my family came down from Iowa.

My sister and brother-in-law stayed the whole weekend to build us a chicken coop!  WE ARE GETTING CHICKENS!  THIS IS NOT A DRILL!  WE ARE GETTING CHICKENS! THIS IS NOT A DRILL!  I mean, what's the big deal, I've only wanted chickens since we got married fifteen years ago.  But yeah, no big deal.

Austin had lots of eager helpers.

Look at my sister go!  Holding a toddler with one hand, rolling a paint roller with the other, being swarmed by children, and not even breaking a sweat.

Austin even picked up nails and small hammers for Finneas and Rocco at the hardware store, so all the boys were building up a storm with the scrap wood and their new tools.  HEAVEN.

Y'all, don't even @ me, okay?  I see what you're seeing.

This is Rocco's first-ever build.  His name is Bob and I'm thinking of adopting his as my ninth child.

Unfortunately, Sunday night, Juni started puking.  Then on Monday, Finneas didn't feel well.  Then on Tuesday I came down with a fever and fatigue.  And here we are: Friday, and most of us still have "on-again, off-again" symptoms.  (Or, as in my case, "on-again, on-still, on and on until I want to meet death" symptoms.)  That has kind of put a damper on our week.  

We took Monday off of school to rest, then did school on Tuesday; then we took our regular Wednesday off and did school yesterday; and today is a half-day.  Really rigorous stuff happening around here.  But I do have one little student who's serious about her responsibilities: everyone, meet Ophelia, the magical rolling baby.

She was on the couch on her back, and she kept rolling herself to her side, so we kept flipping her back over.  Just to see what she would do, we finally left her to her own devices, and she shortly rolled all the way onto her tummy.  (Her arm was still trapped under her, but still.)  Then, after she got tired of tummy time, she promptly tucked and rolled and gently landed back on her back.  I wouldn't have believed it if I didn't see it with my own two human eyeballs.  Like I said, she's magical. 

Also, I would like to take the time here to assert that she also said "Hi" to me.  I gestated a genius.  Must be all those steroids I was on during my bout with Covid.

In other miscellaneous news, Rocco and Atticus were wrestling.  The result is that Rocco weighs very slightly less, and he has an honest-to-goodness lisp.  He named the missing tooth Mr. Funny.

These two cutie patooties tied for gold in Olympic Cuteness.  Truly, they're masters at their craft.

Rocco held his own in the perpetual Battle of the Boys.  I think we currently own about thirty-eight makeshift rifles.

And for one last look at our newest addition, here is one more shot of the coop!  I'm going to get some white paint for the trim soon.  Also, that little fella under there is pretty cute.

And now I'm off.  Not to drink absinthe, if that's what you were thinking.  I mean, now would be the perfect time for me to try it since it literally couldn't make my headache any worse, and it might allow me to at least hallucinate that it's better, and if all else fails, it could kill me and put an end to my misery.  But no.  I'm off to drink some water.