And then apparently he wiped half of it on my living room furniture.
Monday, December 29, 2008
Hot Chocolate
Captain BrownBeard, fierce pirate of the Cocoa Seas.
And then apparently he wiped half of it on my living room furniture.
And then apparently he wiped half of it on my living room furniture.
Wednesday, December 17, 2008
Tuesday, December 16, 2008
Off-Season Humor
"What happened to my treats that I trickered?" ---Connor, upon discovering his empty Halloween bucket in a closet.
Monday, December 15, 2008
Mia's First Haircut
I just couldn't take the mullet a day longer.
BEFORE:
MID-TRIM:
THE STUNNING RESULTS:
BEFORE:
MID-TRIM:
THE STUNNING RESULTS:
Sunday, December 14, 2008
Nibble, Nibble Little Mouse...
"...Who's been nibbling at my house?" demanded the wicked witch.
Guess that's me.
Connor and Mia and I spent about an hour assembling a very elaborate gingerbread house night before last, as a "Welcome Home Daddy" offering (Daddy had been freezing his sugarplums off in Minneapolis, on business). "This is a centerpiece, Connor. We're not going to eat this, are we?"
"Nooo," he replied gravely.
"We want Daddy to see our beautiful work, right?"
"Right, Mommy."
Then I put him to bed.
The house was delightfully silent, not a creature was stirring. So I ventured down to the basement for my nightly email perusal and general goofing off online. I was down there maybe an hour.
I climbed the stairs and rounded the corner to the kitchen, where I beheld a suspicious sight. Someone had pulled out a chair, climbed into it, and dragged the lazy susan, complete with irresistible centerpiece, into arms' reach. They'd then bitten the roof to swiss cheese, and tried to reposition the evidence, albeit upside-down and backward. My gaze shifted to the doorway between kitchen and living room, where a trembling three-year-old stood, the remnants of gingerbread house carnage still lingering at the corner of his mouth.
I said nothing.
He said nothing, then promptly burst into tears.
I'll admit I was a little irritated, but I didn't fail to recognize the humor in the situation. That house must have looked to him like a giant bottle of Scotch to an alcoholic. He has the most ravenous sweet tooth of any kid I know. He probably held out as long as he could, poor guy.
We're keeping the gimpy gingy house on the table. I've promised Connor he can devour it from foundation to roof peak if he'll just wait a few more days and let us enjoy it. I know he's biding his time. This is one of those tales I'll surely tell for Christmases to come. What an adorable memory.
Guess that's me.
Connor and Mia and I spent about an hour assembling a very elaborate gingerbread house night before last, as a "Welcome Home Daddy" offering (Daddy had been freezing his sugarplums off in Minneapolis, on business). "This is a centerpiece, Connor. We're not going to eat this, are we?"
"Nooo," he replied gravely.
"We want Daddy to see our beautiful work, right?"
"Right, Mommy."
Then I put him to bed.
The house was delightfully silent, not a creature was stirring. So I ventured down to the basement for my nightly email perusal and general goofing off online. I was down there maybe an hour.
I climbed the stairs and rounded the corner to the kitchen, where I beheld a suspicious sight. Someone had pulled out a chair, climbed into it, and dragged the lazy susan, complete with irresistible centerpiece, into arms' reach. They'd then bitten the roof to swiss cheese, and tried to reposition the evidence, albeit upside-down and backward. My gaze shifted to the doorway between kitchen and living room, where a trembling three-year-old stood, the remnants of gingerbread house carnage still lingering at the corner of his mouth.
I said nothing.
He said nothing, then promptly burst into tears.
I'll admit I was a little irritated, but I didn't fail to recognize the humor in the situation. That house must have looked to him like a giant bottle of Scotch to an alcoholic. He has the most ravenous sweet tooth of any kid I know. He probably held out as long as he could, poor guy.
We're keeping the gimpy gingy house on the table. I've promised Connor he can devour it from foundation to roof peak if he'll just wait a few more days and let us enjoy it. I know he's biding his time. This is one of those tales I'll surely tell for Christmases to come. What an adorable memory.
Monday, December 8, 2008
Christmas Photos, Second Attempt
Well, not officially. I just thought Mia looked cute in her little red riding hood. And this may be the single photo I've achieved of her smiling since her birthday pictures.
And just for funzies, here's a picture of Connor, Christmas 2005:
Hee hee!! Could you just eat 'em like little gingerbread cookies? No? Just me? Ok, sorry.
Sunday, December 7, 2008
Christmas Photos, First Attempt
These were taken at our church. I popped the kids in front of a stained-glass window in our sanctuary and snapped a few test shots. The lighting was pretty awful, but a couple came out fairly nice. I'd really like to get them in their full Christmas splendor, head-to-toe (especially since my aunt was gracious enough to get them these gorgeous holiday outfits!), so I'm going to make another attempt in a different locale.
Anyone who's got tips on how to get BOTH my kids to look at the camera and smile simultaneously...fire away. I throw myself at your mercy and beg your tutelage.
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