A Cerney Periodical

What could be scarier than the streets of Chicago taken over by three suck-thristy mutations from the sea? It was a good plan, but the littlest starfish was so cute that citizens of Chicago were too threatened.  So, a bit of history in regards to what I have named Starfish Gate, a crisis that occurred when Brock and I went on his school field trip to the pumpkin patch. Which there are no pictures of. Because that day, pardon my french, SUCKED (and not in an awesome starfish way). It was 15 degrees colder than anticipated, and Brock, who was so excited to wear his costume, has a breakdown and would not wear it. Which was a shame because I had chosen his layers of warmth based on the edition of a giant felt body sack (as seen above). The whole class was miserable.  Here is Brock's number in the works. He insisted that his starfish be "purplish-pink", and that the boy starfishes were all purplish-pink. Girl starfishes, aka, mommy starfish was allowed to be

Brock's been up and personal with some sinister friends lately.  There's a naked mole rat in there somewhere. Brock insisted I take a picture. Meh. Boring post? Yes, maybe. The World Series is on so it's either blogging or online shopping (no, folding laundry is NOT a viable option). This is a bit more productive and he's cuter than anything Anthropologie has right now. I shant disturb Matt to get Halloween pictures from his phone so this will have to tide you over til STARFISH INVASION.

Brock's school offers classes in Spanish and Mandarin. As is true of Montessori, he chooses of his own free will when he wants to attend. He has been quite regular with his Spanish and shares with us new words on a regular basis. Yet it appears that he has been attending Mandarin as well. This is what I coaxed him to share. and it appears you also get a tour of our quite messy living room.

Good ol' jackolantern time up here in the Cerney casa. We select our pumpkins during our anniversary weekend annually, first week of October. They then linger in our living room for a while till the faithful day they are given their personalities.  We always roast up the seeds. This year we had a little competition for which of our pumpkins produced the most delicious of seeds. It was a worthy endeavor as our pumpkins were noticeably varied visually, Matt's green, Brock's white, and mine traditional orange. Does the inside reflect the outside? But before conclusions, Brock wanted to give us the recipe for pumpkin seed sandwiches.   Apparently bread is not the best flavor back drop to pumpkin seeds.  Side  note: this is Brock's special nut shell/pepperseed/old cilantro sauce. I think I was feeling a little guilty pouring it down the drain last night after it had been on the counter for over a week, so I took a picture of it and immortalized it