....Or Bust

We're heading out this a.m.....could be a rough ride.
AJ woke up crying last night and when I went up to see what was wrong, found him covered in...you guessed it - vomit. Seemed better after he yakked last night (and cried for about 2 hours from stomach cramping), but we were slated for a 12+ drive to Huntsville, AL. Since we're tired from the Vomit Adventure, we decided to just to the 10 hr. drive to Nashville, hit Huntsville the next day and then go home from there.

See you on the other side...

Hope everyone had a great Christmas.....HEre's a few snaps of what we were doing on Christmas day. Had a great time at a local hotel with an indoor waterpark....our gift from my brother and sister and law, but the whole family came. It was a lot of fun.
There was a 3-story twisting water slide....at first the only one who would go down it was my nephew Robby (and of course, Steve-o, and my brother Rob, and my brother Joel, and ME :)
but then AJ wanted to try (but only if Steve-o went with him). By day two, AJ was climbing the winding stairs 3 floors up all by himself and doing it alone. I was so proud of him.


Robby was up for it from the get-go.....
Jonathan was going solo by day two...
Steve-o waited at the bottom to catch the kidlets....
AJ getting ready to push off...
jonathan twisting down....
AJ again....
Heading home tomorrow.....
I'm sad, but ready too. It's been a long two weeks of travel.
Hope your holidays have been great - see (some of you) soon!

Winner for Coolest Lights Display Ever Goes To....

IT's a classic, but so fun.....watch. And try not to have a seizure at the end.

Here's What Steve Was Doing This Morning....

While I took Cooper for a walk. It's a snowblower in case you've never seen one. On my walk, I almost fell about 4 times on the ice...probably looked pretty ridiculous slipping and waving my arms around so as not to lose my balance. Good news: I didn't fall. Better News: My camera wasn't harmed in the process.

Some trees across the street. I had visions of getting a lovely closeup of the branches but the snowbank was about 6 inches deep and I was NOT going to walk through it in my tennis shoes.

A branch on a plant out front.

Sorry to any family or friends up north for the onslaught of snow/winter pictures forthcoming who see this stuff every day and are probably bored out of their minds already. But the natives in the south have never seen it, so it's pretty novel to them. Enjoy, southern friends! More to come in the days ahead!

HUH?!

Ok, really....i AM going to bed....but I thought you might find this fun.

I was just looking at my blog analytics. It tells me where in the country people view my blog, what browsers they're using, how many hits I get per day, how people access my blog (links from other blogs, etc)....blah, blah, blah. Every once in awhile I actually read it.
ANYWAY....before I made my blog private, people could do a google search and my blog could come up as a hit, depending on what they searched for.

Here are a few things that people searched for, and found my blog. These are the ACTUAL things that other people typed into search engines:


"how long does mozzarella cheese last"
"high price of furniture and rugs" probably not what they expected when they came to THIS post.
"baby not dropped 38 weeks what does it mean?" it means you're in for the long haul honey.
"hold urine contest desperation"
"running over animals roadkill stories"
"cleaning a flesh biting bug infested carpet"
"how to set up baby pool grid using date born"
"lightheaded, tunnel vision, nausea"
"something to do on a rainy day" read my blog of course!
"she's weird" Yup. You got me.

Fun, huh? :)

Aydenism in the Snow

Friday the boys make a snowman with daddy and grandpa.
Saturday, snowman starts to look slightly deformed as temperatures rise
Saturday afternoon, the only part of the snowman left is half of his bottom orb, a soggy carrot, one eye, a hat, and a scarf crumpled on the ground.

A.J. is looking out the window, checking on the snowman on Saturday afternoon:
::loud gasp::
"The snowman is DEAD!"
Grandma Nowack: "No...he's just like Frosty, he's just melted"
AJ (exasperated): "NO. He's DEAD grandma. He's DEAD.

Ohio....Then Michigan

Well, we arrived in Ohio on Thursday night after a surprisingly "not-to-horrific" 12 hour drive from Rabun Gap. The boys (for the most part) watched movies, played Leapster and slept for the trip, and we only had to stop twice for food, once for an emergency "I hafta poop now even though we were just at a rest stop 35 seconds ago" incident (A.J.), and 2 gas stops to top off the tank.
Ohio had a smattering of snow on the ground after the snow storm that had blown in about 4 days prior, so on Friday morning and Saturday afternoon the boys headed out to enjoy the wet cold stuff. AJ hasn't ever seen snow before, and Owen was a baby the last time he'd seen it. Grandpa Nowack had bought each of the boys a sled so they went sledding (in the snowbanks) for about an hour or so.....

We left Ohio this morning, about 5 hours earlier than we had planned because there was a winter storm blowing into Michigan from Chicago and we wanted to beat it. All the snow had melted in Ohio, but we were greeted with this, just as we were driving into GR:

It's been snowing all night and I'm excited to see how it looks tomorrow. After we dropped our stuff and Cooper at my brother's house, we drove to my parents house for dinner. We had to take it slow (about 35 mph) on the highway on the way home because visibility was limited to about 20 yards. Didn't have my camera with me for that one, but if you've ever been in a snowstorm at night, it's creepy, calming, thunderously silent, erie, and mesmerizingly beautiful all at the same time. It's hard to explain if you've never seen it (which I know some of my Georgia friends have never even SEEN snow), but my Northern friends know what I mean.

Here's a self-pic of STeve and I in the snow....it was cold, and you can't see the snow because I stink at those raist-the-camera-up-and-take-a-pic-of-yourself things, but I tried. You can see some snow in our hair and behind us.

Anyway, I'm tired and going to bed now....Hope you're all enjoying the last few days leading up to Christmas....more to come tomorrow (hopefully!)

We Made It....

We're here....in Michigan.....arrived this afternoon....just as a winter snowstorm was blowing in....I'll be posting pics in a bit....

My Muse

Was going for a moody black and white....added some grain/noise to it to rough it up a bit...heavy on the shadows....whatcha think?

A New Hat

Easily Amused

Just now, Owen is sitting on the couch watching cartoons, Cooper is sprawled out across him sleeping.

Owen: What's that smell? What's the smell? I smell poop.
ME: Poop?! Where do you smell poop?
Owen: I smell poop (wrinkles his nose)
I come over and take a whiff.
ME: Oh. It's Cooper. He tooted.

Owen giggles uncontrollably for the next 3 minutes.

Apparently, the fact that dogs fart is new information and absolutely HILARIOUS.

Signs it's time to Watch What You Say....

When you're driving the boys to preschool and they're fighting in the backseat, and Owen punches AJ, who replies,
"Owen! DON'T HIT ME AGAIN!"
To which Owen replies, "I WILL!"
And AJ retorts with, "I'm gonna bust you up!"


Wonder where he would hear such a thing?????

Two Days....

Until our Christmas Trip from hell begins.

Ok, the Christmas Trip itself won't be so bad...time with family and friends, stepping our southern feet back into northern snow (for a visual of a typical Michigan winter, click HERE), showing AJ and Tyler their first REAL snowfall, introducing my parents to Tyler for the first time, proving to the boys that yes, grandma and grandpa, robby & johnny, nana and papa WILL HAVE A CHRISTMAS TREE IN THEIR HOUSE AND SANTA WILL REMEMBER TO BRING YOUR TOYS THERE, it's more so the actual DRIVE that I'm dreading.

I LOATHE driving. I would 1,000-times over wrangle 2 wiggly kids, a 5-month old, and approximately 27 suitcases through Chicago O'Hare on Christmas Eve than spend more than 6 hours in a car. The 3 hour trip to Atlanta about does me in. My butt gets sore, I get stiff and tired, edgy and fidgety, I want to sleep and scream and shake my head around. I feel queasy, hot, cold, tired, and bored. I want to open the door and hurl myself from the vehicle. And then I remember that it's minus-8 degrees up there and I come to my senses.
So....think of me during the next few days...and pray that I maintain my sanity on our longest stretches of driving (TWELVE FREAKING HOURS AT A TIME) lest I arrive in Michigan cross-eyed and giggling maniacally (TWL - that's pronounced mah-nai-ack-lee, because i know it threw you for a loop). Here's our agenda, in case you're opening your presents with your fam on Christmas morn, and you suddenly stop and wonder, "Hmmm....I wonder where Steve-o, Tammi, and the punks are?"...well, now you know:

Wed. 12/19 - leave SW Georgia, drive to Rabun Gap, GA. Spend night w/friends.
Thu. 12/20 - leave RG, drive (12 hours) to Medina, OH (Steve-o's parents, grandparents)
Sun. 12/23 - leave Medina, drive to Grand Rapids, MI (5 hours)
Sun. 12/30 - leave GR, drive to Huntsville, AL (11 hours), with a possible break in Indiana with my sister and her hubby, spend night w/friends
Tues. 1/01 - leave AL, drive home (6 hours)

And now....I need to tackle the mountainous pile of laundry completely covering our bedroom floor. *snort* :::giggle:::

Just kidding.

I'm just going to poke through it for the clothes that I need. :)

August Rush

Steve-0 and I went out last night and saw August Rush. Admittedly, :::I::: was the one who wanted to see it - Steve wanted to see I Am Legend, but it was sold out.
Here's the thing about it: I loved it.
Here's another thing about it: It was terrible.
By all movie standards, that is. The plotline was weak and underdeveloped, it was slow to start, the storyline was almost so ridiculous and cheesy that you might consider vomiting, the coincidences that tied the film together were so outrageous that they were laughable.

BUT.
I loved it.
I don't know why.
I just did.
It spoke to me on some level....the music was beautiful. I got caught up in the story. At times, my pulse quickened, my heart swelled, my stomach would lurch. I just liked it. Which I should probably be embarrassed about, but I'm not.
Go see it. Tell me what you think.

Shiny and New

A new look for the blog....and a Christmas present for you, my dear readers: No more word verification

:) Happy Holidays

Aydenism

11:18 p.m.
AJ is up after a mere 2 hours in bed, perky as ever and talking like he snorted some speed in his sleep. He is babbling on a mile a minute, excitedly playing with the Polar Express Train Set and (loudly) regaling us with stories and perils of the Polar Express.
Suddenly, he pops up, grabbing his butt:

AJ: "OH! I gotta go poop!"
Steve and I together: "ok. go."
AJ turns and runs approximately 3 steps and comes to a screeching halt.
"Hey, can you turn the wight on for me?" he implores, as he hops about, no doubt about to poop his pants at any second, because as any 3 year old boy knows, you don't go to the bathroom until it's about to burst from your bowels. Especially if there's trains involved.

I get up and walk to the bathroom with him, and flip on the light.
I watch as he starts stripping off all of his clothing. A trait that he learned from his brother.

Me: "AJ, you don't have to take off ALL of your clothes when you use the toilet"
He ignores me.
Me: "AJ. You don't have to take. off. all. your. clothes."
AJ: "O-KAY mama. But you have to weave me awone now.
I gotta poop now"

I leave.
As I'm walking down the hall....

AJ: "AND DON'T TOUCH MY POLAR EXPRESS TRAIN!!!"

A Nature Lesson

(must be read in a hushed, "wild-america" voice)

Here we see the typical American family, in the midst of the western cultural phenomenon: The Yearly Christmas Family Photo Shoot.
What's unique about this family, is that the matriarch is a photographer herself and has exceedingly high expectations for what makes for a good portrait. She leads the pack this Sunday afternoon to the inner city of their habitat for what is called, in modern western photography lingo, an "urban session", photographed by family friend and NON-photographer, Casey Perkins. The nervous anxiety of the temporary photographer is almost palpable and the unspoken pressure from the female mounts....
Let's look in on the beginnings of the shoot, shall we??

Here we see the female of the pack insisting that the eldest pup obey her commands, lest he not be rewarded with ice cream (a highly sought-after human treat) at the session's conclusion. Alpha Male supports the female's commands, and even steps in to bite at the cub's ear when his belligerence runs amok. Things are tense for several moments as the ever-independent pup contemplates his options. Eventually, he reluctantly agrees and begrudgingly obeys. The alpha female has won this round and maintains her place in the hierarchy.




Later we come across the pack in a new location, hunting for more interesting scenes. A lovely photo, until the alpha female realizes that she is still wearing her sunglasses. She howls in frustration, while alpha male gazes on in amusement. The pups are oblivious, although the youngest one, still quite attached to his mother, looks on in curious observation.

The pack moves on, but the pups give the adults even more grief at the next location as time has worn on and their bellies are growling and dissension broods. Despite mother's insistence, this middle pup insists on irritating his mother...pulling her ears, playing rough, and attempting to wrestle.

Finally, the pups are settled with the promise of "one last shot" to complete until the ice cream is obtained, and the two eldest begrudgingly settle in, eagerly anticipating a fresh meal. But alas, the youngest pup, a mere 4 months and still a suckling, becomes hungry and attacks the mother with a vengeance, pulling at her fur and rooting for a meal.


Alpha female gives up and the pack moves on to the feeding grounds, for their ice cream treat.

Stay tuned for an invigorating look at the only 3 successful shots of the session.....

Wrong on So Many Levels

Being a Northerner,
A Michigander, if you will...

I find something inherently, morally WRONG
About putting on shorts
Turning on the air conditioning
Exposing my winter-white legs to the world
80 Degrees and sunny

2 weeks away from Christmas.

Thanks, Moron!

You know when you're driving and someone kindly lets you merge over in front of them?? You do the kindly hand wave, but if only there were a better way to say "hey, thanks"....or to the a-hole who cuts you off, or rides your bumper?? Being the kindly Christian, I would **never*** flip them the bird, but oh, how it aggravates!

Well....these people came up with something....

Check it: Drivemocion

For AmyLynn & Daniel

A snapshot of Zac...from today.

:)

Brothers

Love this one of the boys from the other day......

Callie Cat

Yesterday I took the boys on a bike ride. We stopped at a stop sign about 2 blocks from our house, and from across the street comes this little black kitten...trotting over to us, meowing all the while. She was quite obviously a stray but was the friendliest little kitten I'd ever seen. She ran right over to the boys (who immediately hopped off their bikes to pet her) and rubbed up against them, purring away...even letting them pick her up and hold her. She was really sweet.

Then it began. The begging, the pleading, the convincing..."Let's take her to OUR home" "She needs a family" etc. etc. I can't complain too loudly because I'm a sucker for animals myself, and even as I told them "no, no, we should leave her here where we found her" I knew in my heart that we'd be taking her home, if only for a bowl of food and some love'n. I told the boys that if she would hold still and let me hold her that we could take her home. Well, that fluffy little kitty sat in my arms for the whole walk home, purring away.
As we walked up our drive, I called ahead to AJ, "Don't open the front door AJ!" knowing full well that Cooper would come bounding out and scare the poor baby away. So what does AJ do?? Completely ignores me and opens the front door. Times like that I feel that I've done SUCH a good job raising my boys to obey.
Well...you can imagine: Cooper comes out. Kitty hisses and digs her claws into my arm (thank goodness I was wearing a sweatshirt). I tried to turn my back and shield her from the dog whilst yelling, "NO COOPER!" but this cat apparently didn't have much faith in my protective abilities because she thought she might be safer on high ground. Like, the top of my head.
So there I am, spinning in the front yard, away from Cooper, hunched over, hissing cat on my head, wondering what kind of kitty disease I'm getting and if she'll actually puncture the flesh of my skull. With rabies in mind, I think it's probably best to fling the cat off my head so I do so, and she scampers away, hissing, and runs straight up a tree.

AJ looks horrified.
"I told you NOT to open the door!" I scolded.
He looks worried. And heartbroken.
"My baby kitty is gone" he says, bottom lip quivering.
I sigh. And take the high road.
"That's why you need to obey me." Which is toddler-speak for "I told you so"

We get in the house, settle Cooper. The boys hit the toilet, so I slip back outside to see if I can find poor traumatized baby cat or if she's gone forever. No sooner do I step into the front yard and I hear a little "meow" and see some rustling in the pine tree out front. She hops down from the tree and runs over to me. So I set her on the front stoop and go inside and the boys come rejoicing (they had been watching out the window...and mercifully, NOT opening the door).
"You found her! You found the kitty baby!"

The boys hurriedly poured some of Nala's cat food into a bowl and AJ got her some milk (which I KNOW is not good for cats, but how do you tell a 3 year old that?) She narfed up that whole bowl of food AND the milk, and them some water too. Purring contentedly, rubbing up against the boys, she really IS a sweet cat. Owen named her Callie Cat. AJ wanted to name her Spongebob Poopy Pants (no, not kidding - he's really been into the doofy potty talk lately.) but Owen insisted on Callie Cat, thank goodness.

Now, before my mother and my mother in law start shaking their heads in disbelief that the Nowack clan has yet another pet, let me say that we did NOT keep her.
After she finished up her food, and the boys played with her a bit more, we put her in the car (where she curled up in the back with the boys and slept, and drove her to the Humane Society. I'm hoping that someone will pick her up for a Christmas present. She really is SUCH a nice cat. So if you're in the Albany area, and looking for a kitty to love...check out the Humane Society on Oakridge. CallieCat is there waiting...."for a fami-wy of her own" as AJ says.

I'm Bummed

"Mama, take MY picture"

And then SHE said....

So this morning I was talking with that neighbor baby down the street...you know the one. Poops her pants twice a day? Had a mean case of diaper rash last week? The bald one? Yeah, her. Well, ANYWAYS...she started gett'n all up in my face, talk'n smack...say'n I had a drooling problem. And I was all like, "WHA?! Oh no you di-n't!!"
Can you believe that? Crazy ho....
Drooling.
As if.

What? What's that you say? WHAT?!
I :::AM::: drooling???
Like, right this very minute??
It's ON MY CHEST??
It's DRIPPING??
It's glistening in the sunlight you say??

Why didn't you tell me sooner???!!
Do you realize I've been walking around like this ALL MORNING??
:::sob:::

Just so you Know....

Occassionaly, I like to get paper grocery bags when I go to the grocery store.

It reminds me of when Steve-o and I were first married, living in the city,
in our apartment that we lovingly called "the ghetto apartment". It wasn't technically a ghetto apartment, but it was located in an odd neighborhood. We lived in a historic section of the city called the Heritage Hill district, where blocks upon blocks of beautiful old homes dating back to the 1800's were stacked along the tree-lined streets. Most of the homes were divied into apartments, or townhomes, some were beautifully restored. What made our particular neighborhood so interesting was that if you at on our front porch and looked across the street to the corner, you would see a gorgeous historic house for sale for $700,000, but if you looked to the opposite corner at the end of the block, you would see a subsidised housing apartment building on the corner where some shady "medicinal transactions" *wink, wink* would take place on a regular basis.

We loved that apartment. Cathedral ceilings, a lovely fireplace, arched doorways, pocket doors, hardwood floors, winding hallway. The alley cat that was forever pregnant that we (well, I) named Veda and fed every night on the back stoop, The mature oak tree in the front that dropped it's beautiful red leaves in the fall, the hammock on the front porch, the diverse, ecclectic and eccentric people that strolled our neighborhood sidewalks every evening. The crazy elderly cat ladies that lived next door, Pat and David, the gay couple that lived upstairs, Ada and her husband (whose name has slipped my mind because he always seemed to be gone) that lived in the other apartment upstairs, who used to make the BEST smelling gumbo ever. When Ada got to cooking the whole house would smell so divine, I would be salivating on the front porch as I rocked in the hammock and waited for Steve to come home from work.

We were within walking distance from the stuff downtown...the theatre, the River, the arena, the museums, the restaurants. On the corner of our block was a small mom and pop grocery store. A mere 2 houses down from ours. I would frequently come home from work (yes, there WAS a time when I worked at a "real", salaried place of employment that regularly withdrew taxes from my bi-weekly paychecks) and walk down to the corner store with our Sheltie Nikki and pick up some groceries for dinner. They would never ask "paper or plastic?" they just kindly placed your wares inside a paper bag and handed them to you on your way out. And then I would walk back home, with Nikki (who would wait outside for me), strolling down the sidewalk with my paper bag of groceries in hand. Waving to the neighbors, dodging Alcoholic Stu, who walked past our house twice daily for his daily fix at the corner store, saying hello to the crazy cat ladies. It was like living on Sesame Street. For real. Well, minus the drunk guy.

And that's why sometimes, when I go to the store, I ask for paper bags. Because it reminds me of then. First married and living in the city, walking home from the store, with my paper bag of groceries in hand. And it makes me happy.

Skipping Christmas...and Boy Does It Feel Good

So...been meaning to post about our "Skipping Christmas" plan this year, but haven't had a chance to sit down and write it out.

Steve and I have, for the last year, really been pondering social action issues and become more aware of the pitfalls of Western consumerism. With Christmas coming upon us, we're hit with a truckload of "Spend, Spend Spend!" marketing and the ever-present message of, "You NEED this, you must DO this, BUY this, get your KID this, have your house LOOK like this" in order to be: happy. cool. normal. etc.
Consumerism was especially brought to light at Owen's birthday in November. The kid gets more loot than any other birthday yet. Legos, trains, a new bike, a Leapster, stickers, coloring books, games, all kinds of stuff from family and us. Steve and I made eye contact as he ripped into present after present, hardly pausing to see and enjoy one before grabbing another. And his favorite? A small train set. We could've bought the kid ONE train and he would've been happy. Why do we feel like we must get our kids more more MORE stuff, that will end up on the floor in their room? Stuffed under the bed, forgotten in the bottom of the closet?

We decided to scale back.
WAY back.

And I can't tell you how much less stress it is.
We decided to get the kids 3 gifts each. If that. You saw their lists to Santa. They only want like, 4 things. So after grandparents spoil them with gifts galore, and aunts, uncles, and us, and friends, and then they're left with a pile of toys and the thing they like most is that one train/car and the cardboard box all the gifts were shipped in. And for the two of us...what do we really need? What would be special? Those are the things that have us thinking carefully about our gift(s) to each other...we're not getting a ton of gifts so the ones that we do get need to be well thought out.

And in the spirit of actually "skipping Christmas", we're not putting up any decorations. Not a single one. That sounds a lot worse than it really is, because we're not doing that to be scroogy, but rather because we're leaving in 2 weeks for a 2 week-long trip to family and friends up north. At first I felt guilty about not picking out the tree, dragging down the ornaments, keeping the dog from peeing on the tree, putting up the lights, etc, for the kids sake, but then I reminded myself that we'll be in Ohio and Michigan for Christmas, with family and their decor, and SNOW! Family, music, chilly weather, hot chocolate, love, laughter, the Christmas story, being HOME...for us, THAT is Christmas.

No decor. No huge Christmas-gift shopping list. No "I-must-replace-the-Christmas-lights-and-spray-paint-some-pinecones". It's as if a huge weight has been lifted from my shoulders. The gifts that we're getting for family are much more thought-out, from the heart. No shopping for a $20-$30 gift that --->fill in family member's name here<--- doesn't really need anyway. No more combing the stores with a list of 20 gifts to buy in hand. No more financial meltdown at the end of the year.

We also started to consider gifts, traditions, and the spirit of Christmas that would leave more lasting memories. I think we'll really enjoy our own traditions this year and I hope to make some new ones. New pajamas on Christmas Eve. Baking a HUGE batch of homemade sugar cookies for family and friends. A personalized tree ornament (with all our names on it) that we pick out together. Monkey Bread on Christmas morning. Gifts with meaning, an experience - (we're getting Owen art lessons and AJ gymnastics.) We don't have a nativity set but I'd like to get one and incorporate that into our Christmas rituals. A Christmas Eve candlelight service perhaps?? For once...3 weeks before Christmas, I feel calm. NOT stressed out. Not worrying about where the money for a bazillion Christmas gifts will come from. Not frantically writing lists and wondering what store has the best turkey in town. Just looking forward to Christmas break, and having time to spend together with my husband and my kids.

Here's my advice: BREATHE.
Relax. Remember what Christmas is. Look away from your to-do lists, your shopping lists, your dwindling checking accounts, and remind yourself that what's important is the ones you love. Not the stuff. The stuff will be forgotten in a month. a year. a decade. But your traditions, your rites, your time spent together will be the stuff that you (and your kids) remember forever.

What are your family traditions? What are ways that you can make Christmas memorable this year? Tell me stuff that you do, or that your family did....we're in the market for some Nowack traditions to add to our arsenal. :)

Adorable Chubby Drooly Baby

I know it's been awhile since you've seen him, so I thought it was time for a Tyler-fix. He's almost 5 months old, eating baby food (a LOT! Favorite pureed food: organic bananas. And not those nasty processed NORMAL (i.e.cheap) baby food bananas. Oh no, only organic will do. My fault for accidentally buying organic. And for birthing an infant with a highly snooty palate), and boy is he starting to chub up. And drool. OMG does he drool. Notice wet shirt in photos below....might be time to break out the drool-bib. Sooooo fashionable.

Hoodie Shirt courtesy of Aunt Jen and Uncle Sean.
Stains on shirt courtesy of Gerber (organic) sweet potatoes.
Adorable baby courtesy of...well, ME. Oh, and Steve. A little.
Happy disposition courtesy of Tyler. And belly full of boob milk. And sweet potatoes. And God.
Seriously, THANK YOU GOD for such a healthy happy baby.

Aydenism

Last night, I was putting the boys to bed because Steve was gone to his first basketball game of the season. Getting 3 boys fed dinner, dressed, and in bed in under 4 hours is a feat that should surely be rewarded with a million dollars, or a trophy that says FREAKING MOM OF THE YEAR or something to that effect.

Brush teeth - check.
Find blankie (Owen) - check.
Find binky (AJ) - check.
Tyler begins to fuss...uh oh.

Per our normal routine, they boys get in their bunk bed and I sit on the bean bag chair on the floor beside them. AJ has a really hard time going to sleep unless someone is "rubbing" him...meaning, stroking his fingers, arm, back, legs, feet, etc. Last night I sat down in the bean bag with Tyler in my lap and the boys finally in their beds. Predictably, AJ says, "mama...you RUUUBBBB me??"
"I can't right now AJ, because I have to feed Tyler. But when I'm done I'll rub you"
"OK" he complies.
About five minutes later I finish nursing Tyler, adjust my shirt and lift him up. He belches loudly and yaks up a little milk on his shirt.
"You're all done feeding Tyler?" AJ asks eagerly. "You rub me now??"

"Not yet, buddy - I'm not done feeding him yet" I replied as I switched Tyler to the other boob.

AJ huffs in exasperation and surprise.
"UNGH!" he huffs impatiently. "There's TWO of them?!?""

Letters to Santa

The boys are catching on to the whole idea of Santa and it's actually a lot of fun. I was never going to tell my kids the whole Santa line (lying to your kids, making up mythical entities, missing the whole point of Christmas, etc. etc.) BUT...this whole Santa thing is wicked fun. They totally dig it...and they talk incessantly about Santa and when he will be coming, and how we have to make him cookies, and how will his fat butt fit down our tiny chimney. Ok...that last one is just me....because seriously, our chimney is SMALL.
Anyway...the boys were really geeked about writing a letter to santa to tell him what they want...all like, WHAT?! WE JUST LIST WHAT WE WANT AND HE BRINGS IT?? So I had to clear that up a little.
So....writing letters to Santa - yesterday's project. We mailed them today.
Now I just have to figure out a way to explain that we can't actually RIDE on the Polar Express to go see the big guy in the red suit....




I helped AJ pen his letter to Santa....but the thoughts and words are all him. :)
Oh...and when I asked him..."why do you want another Lightening McQueen car and another Chick Hicks car when you already have those?"
"I need two"
AAllllll-righty then.


#4?? "A Big Car that I can Drive"?? That would be one of those battery powered cars. He saw one in Toys R Us the other day....LOVED it. Sat in it. It was $500.
I guess he's got good taste.
And a vivid imagination. Because no way will that sucka be sitting in our living room on Christmas day.


I was SO proud of Owen, who addressed his envelope and wrote everything in his letter except for his list, which he dictated and I wrote for him, because telling a 5 yr old how to spell every single word and painstakingly print them out would have taken about 458 minutes.
Oh, and if anyone could tell me what #1 is....A "Thomas and Percy Race"....??? I have no clue. And he's been pretty adamant that BY GEORGE I MUST HAVE THIS FOR CHRISTMAS OR ALL IS LOST so I'm slightly concerned about it. Any insight is appreciated....

Soulja Spongebob

Does it make me a terrible person that my kids *love* to watch this video? And I let them? And I think it's funny?





disclaimer: I *despise* SpongeBob...and i don't let my kids watch Spongebob. So, what are they freaking obsessed with?? Why, Spongebob of course!

clarification for those of you who live under a rock or are not hip to what's cool: this music video (not the spongebob version) and the accompanying dance that goes with it is the most popular dance to sweep the nation since the Macarena. You are like, SO not cool if you don't know about it. What-EVER. **flips her hair**

Elf Yourself

Many thanks to Amy, who has offered up countless hours of entertainment to our family, and to my boys, who repeatedly ask me (like a million times a day)..."let's see the dancing elves!" at elfyourself.com -- click here for a good laugh.....and to see Steve dressed like an elf. With boobs.

http://www.elfyourself.com/?id=9617073037

Happy Birthday!

Happy Birthday to:
my husband.
the father of my beautiful children.
the man who takes me to a demolition derby for a date and we laugh about it the whole time.
the guy who buys me a puppy for my birthday, even though it's ridiculously impractical.
the man who makes me laugh like no other.
the man who knows where I'm most ticklish.
the guy who provides for all 5 of us - financially, emotionally, spiritually.
the dad who my boys absolutely adore.
the guy who builds the best train tracks, and plays the best pretend with the race cars.
the man who still holds my hand in the car.
the guy who changes the cat litter just because i hate to do it.
the guy who has to have all the lights off when he's sleeping at night. and a fan on. in the winter.
the guy who loves Christmas more than anyone I know.
the teenage boy trapped in a man's body who still pines for a video game system (the answer is still NO!)
the teacher that the students adore.
the coach that the athlete's love.
the friend who makes you laugh.

the man that I love.

happy birthday steve-o!

(click the photo to enlarge)