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go there.
I have so many funny friends that I can no longer keep track. Wait – that’s not really true. But I do have some mostly funny friends, some pretty funny friends, some occasionally funny friends and some consistently funny friends. (Are you wondering which you are?) My friend Tyler is consistently funny. Which means all the time. He is funny all the time. And he is humoring me today by allowing me to write a post over at his site. So you can go read my post if you would like by clicking right here. And then you should stick around and read Tyler’s stuff. Especially his I Already Know A Lot About…
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first.
First time in a sandbox. First time eating sand. First time taking a series of photographs exclusively using the manual settings on my camera. (And you are seeing these sans editing.)
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what a long, strange trip it’s been. emphasis on the “long”.
It seems we like adventure lately. Or something like that. And I guess it wasn’t enough to drive three hours into the mountains of Georgia last week with five young children. Nope. Not enough. I am a glutton for punishment I suppose. I threw in one more kid (totaling six, in case you’re counting) and tossed in about triple the drive time and we all headed to Florida. Let me break the trip down for you into easily digestible categories and lists. The Miracle On a nine-plus hour trip no one had to stop for an unscheduled bathroom break. No one. Not one of the seven passengers requested the bathroom. …
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a fairytale
Once upon a time (about four days ago) we embarked upon an epic journey. (We drove to Georgia.) Where we stayed with two princesses (Lindsey and Rachael) in their castle (an apartment with the red door that matched the other twenty-five red doors). Our chariot (a scruffed up maroon Suburban) lead us to a raging river (a pleasant, wide stream) where we discovered the fountain of youth (a refreshing place to splash and play). After we partook of the fountain and gained our eternal youth (splashed until we were soaking wet from head to toe and all felt like kids), we traversed through many perils and obstacles (sink holes, deeper water…
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before my very eyes.
I think I am watching my little Scout get older with every silly band she adds to the collection on her wrist.
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we let him eat cake.
Otto had a pretty low key first birthday party, as far as those events tend to go. And I am okay with that. Besides, he has enough siblings to constitute a party wherever he goes, so it all works out. A few good friends joined us to do what you do on a baby’s first birthday. Watch them eat cake. Our kids have all handled the first birthday a little differently. We didn’t get the privilege of seeing Riley cram cake into her little kid face since we met her a few years after that event. (I could just make something up here but I guess that’s a bad idea…
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everyone thinks their own kid is funny. so do I.
One kid. Two stories. Because I can. The First. Yes. We are still bribing Finn to use the bathroom somewhere other than her own pull up. After one such attempt (and success!) Finn requested her reward. “I want sad-you-seize.” she informed me. “Sadducees? Like in the Bible?” I asked her. (Hey, she’s like a genius or something. Maybe she had been reading up on the Sanhedrin and stuff. You never know.) “No, Mommy. Sag-you-see!” “Okay, Finn. Why don’t you just show me where these sag-you-sees are.” And she took my hand and lead me to my desk and reached for my container of orange tic-tacs. Oh. Sag-you-sees. The second. Today…
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The Hawke
This is Hawkeye. He needed a haircut. And I had this idea. His name is Hawke, after all, right? The idea actually took several weeks of convincing. Finally, this weekend, somewhat out of the blue, an announcement is made by Hawkeye. “I’m ready for a mohawk now Mommy.” Okay. Okay son. Drop everything. Run to our resident stylist. And one Mythbusters episode later, the hawk emerges. The mohawk, that is. It looks stinkin’ adorable. (Except the wearer is not as fond of the results as the mommy is. Which is a real shame. Since now Hawkeye will not let me spike the mohawk up. And that makes me a little…
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running makes me think
I think the fact that I am finding running to be a Good Idea For Me is for three basic reasons. And those are . . . 1. If I exercise more, I can eat more. And I, like my little Scout, enjoy food. I like Cadbury Cream Eggs. And mashed potatoes, crusty bread dipped in olive oil, red velvet cake, grilled cheese sandwiches served with scrambled eggs, Riley’s hand crafted peach crepes, Kevin’s (and Leanne’s) salsa with multi-grain chips, strawberry jam, Mellow Mushroom pizza, Thaicoon spring rolls and pasta any way you toss it. 2. When I run I have the freedom to think. I’m running. I cannot do…
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One
Just one year ago you looked this. Brand new. Hours into our life. Peaceful. Still. Beautiful. And now one year later you look like this. Seldom still. Walking. Eating. Laughing. Still beautiful. Happy Birthday One.
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When Uncle ‘Stin Comes To Town
We heart Uncle ‘Stin. (He’s framily, you know.) He stopped by for a visit this week. Here’s what we learned while Uncle ‘Stin was around. I met ‘Stin (a.k.a. Austin) when he was younger than my little Wilder is now. Which makes me feel an odd combination of both sisterly and maternal affection for him. (Is that misterly affection then?) And of course I have been aware of ‘Stin’s age for, uh, all of his life. But this trip I realized – he’s not a kid. (And he probably has not been for a while, I know.) He is, in fact, (to borrow his own phrase) a Transformer. You know…
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Love Wins
Love Wins. That’s what a bumper sticker on the back of our Suburban says. In black and white. There are some topics about which I really don’t care to write. Like this one. Because when I throw this stuff out there into the blogosphere I become accountable. If I keep these ideas in my mind then no one can judge me when I blow it. (Which I will.) But, the thing is I don’t always let Love win. But I want to. I want Love to be victorious. In my relationships. In my actions. In my attitudes. In my thoughts. In my heart. So I’ve been repeating the words of…
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Family Night
Wednesday evenings at our house have been officially retitled. It’s a catchy one. Wait for it. Family Night. Yeah, even I think I could do better than that for a name. (I’m working on it, alright? One can only be creative on so many levels similtaneously.) For us, Family Night just means a night where we let the kids choose an activity that we can all do together. Usually – they pick the meal as well. (We’ve eaten one dinner consisting of macaroni and cheese as the main dish and mashed potatoes as the side. Which I found perfectly acceptable.) Recent Family Nights have involved Wii games, movies and Outburst…
