New Segment: Dilbert of the Week

Joshua-ism #2

*after Joshy rubbed something wet on John's cheek*

"What was that?  Spit??"

"No."

"Water?"

"Yes."

"From where?"

"My mouth."

Update

I am happy to say that summer session is out, I am done with my first two classes AND...drum roll please...I got an A in each.  The timing of the class was most unfortunate because it coincided with the time I was down a person in my department and struggling to find a good fit for the job.  There are many a night when I wondered what I had been smoking when I decided this would be a good idea, but on the other side, both with school and with work (extended a job offer on Friday that was accepted), there is a renewal of will.  I know that my blogging has suffered in reliability but with 60 - 70 hour weeks on top of school, writing...well...anything falls to the bottom of the list.  The list falls to the bottom of the list.  It is survival mode, exhaustion and random spontaneous bursts of tears.  Last weekend everything culminated with 40 hours worked between Friday and Monday but this weekend I am home, thinking only minimally about work and more about how much crap I bought at Target.  *yells with fist in air* TARGET!!! 

As we head towards August, we head towards Joshy entering Kindergarten and us trying to figure out how to catch up on our 30 hours of volunteer time we are backlogged in owing the school.  I am planning yet again to start working out this Monday after an insane four months have left me greasy inside and 10 pounds heavier.  Isn't there some rule that says every 12 hour day demands a chocolate shake?  Sometimes it is easy to forget that Joshy is only 5 and when I am asked politely in the morning if he can play his DSi, I am reminded of what a good boy he really is.  He speaks so pragmatically to Benjamin that it cracks me up.  Instead of forcing him to do something, Joshy "convinces" him to do something through persuasion and I have started to wonder if that is the better or worse of the two.  Force Ben would eventually tire of but persuasion will have Ben doing all sorts of crazy things, thinking it was his own idea.  Ben loves his big brother and everything Joshy says or wants, we hear a two year old echo saying or wanting the same thing.  Getting to play in Joshy's room lights Ben up and no matter how much he mimics Joshy and follows him around, Joshy never seems to get aggravated.  All their fights are generally about toys or someone poking the other.  Stop touching me.  I'm not touching you...Joshy says with his hand a few inches from Ben's face.  Let's remember, this is the boy who at two, when told to not say no one more time, looked at me with fire in his eyes and mouthed the word NO in defiance without any actual sound coming out of his mouth.  Ben is different because as soon as he gets in trouble, there are instant apologies and I love yous gushing from his mouth.  Joshy is not going to apologize come hell or high water.  I have no idea what parent he inherited that from... *crickets sound while I look incredibly innocent* 

John is still working at the State and busy with changing staff and projects of his own.  He has been such a good sport with my work load leaving the boys much on his shoulders.  We have finally signed with a construction company to come fix the damage from the hail storm.  It amounts to a new roof, siding, windows and shutters.  Also something about air conditioning rudders and a roof for the shed.  Too bad insurance doesn't cover landscaping.  It wasn't damaged but is just out of control.  Our backyard is like a jungle and with each passing summer, increasingly hard to maintain.  We really need to invest in a swing set...but unfortunately my Target doesn't sell it...so its unlikely as a spontaneous buy. 

In the evenings John and I have taken up playing Modern Warfare 2 in the hopes to hone our skills and beat my coworker I have been talking smack to which I completely cannot back up.  I am so glad I am not the bar type because I would have long ago gotten myself killed.  I have become quite addicted to diet coke and at any moment, you can find 4 to 5 large sonic cups scattered about my office.  Add the ones I drink at night and I am fairly certain the coke has replaced my body's water.  That's me.  Blood, chub and diet coke.  Reminds me of a t-shirt I saw that I want to get.  "I drink diet coke so I can eat regular cake".  Amen to that brother.  Amen to that. 

Jessica is about to pop and while over yesterday afternoon was starting some heavy breathing from time to time.  I told her to get her butt home because I was not delivering her baby.  She was here picking up the computer that John had modified with new RAM and perhaps a processor.  They were also testing out skype and as I walked in from the store, all I see is my mom's head on John's computer talking.  I understand the point of video chat, but it is a little creepy when not specific to a conversation.  It is like a floating head or an "ignore the man behind the curtain".  The upside will be that Jess can see the boys and we can see Hadley more often than if it was only during trips to Tulsa or them to OKC.  Technology is crazy.  The other day I was driving to lunch and an old school rap song came on and I remembered buying it when it first came out on those cassette singles you could get for $3.00 with only the one song on it.  Making your own compilation tape involved waiting for the song to play on the radio and quickly hitting record.  Now you can just sit with no wires attached and download songs for $0.99 from outer space. 

I hope this ridiculously long post finds everyone else well.  I so wish I could see many of you more often. 

Take care, L

Big Boy Bed

This picture is sub par at best, taken in the pitch black with a phone BUT look at my baby sleeping for the first night in his big boy bed.  He has his Toy Story blanket and his Sleepy Sheepy (a cow we all now refer to as a sheep in lieu of arguing its species with him) and is sleeping as sweetly as ever.  My little men are growing up.

Target: How I love to hate thee...

I have decided that Target is a most dangerous place.  You walk in to get cleaning supplies and walk out with a toddler bed, two night stands, all new bedding and sheets, four pillows, a Toy Story throw, two pairs of shoes and a bottle of 409.  All it takes is one step inside and the black hole of Target Brand products taunt you with their name brand similarity and yet sensible pricing.  What is a comforter without a matching sham?  What is the perfect pillow case without a new pillow?  You roll down the center aisle gathering wall art and black baskets, picture frames and small decorative clocks.  To make it even easier, Target has thoughtfully put all the items you never knew you needed right on the end of each aisle, perfectly within arms reach.  Joshy recognized the red bulls eye of Target by the time he was a toddler and we would sit in the car each trip and practice reading the letters in the word Pharmacy or Market.  Target means icee.  Target means Starbucks.  Target means walk of shame into check-out nine with your overloaded basket of unplanned goods.  Still, it is okay Target tells you.  You'll find a way to afford this.  You'll see.  You're right, Target.  Who said you have to feed kids every night or clothe every part of them and if I don't get this particle board nightstand now, what if they are sold out when I come back or worse yet, replaced by something of better quality and durability for a higher price.  And so you check out and close your eyes as you swipe your card, pretending you didn't hear the dollar amount the clerk just said loud and clear.  And as he hands you the receipt that is half your height and with a smile says how you saved a total of seven dollars today, all you do is nod as you crumple it into your pocket and head towards your car to unload boxes into your trunk and back seat.  And as you drive away, Target's lure over you begins to fade and you realize what you have done yet again but then you think, those shams really will look good with my paint color...

Joshua-ism #1

Tonight John found some of the RCA plugs broken off in the tv and turning around, asked if the boys knew anything about it.  Immediately Joshy says "Ben did it" and points to him.  John looks at Joshy skeptically and says "Really?  Did you see him do it?" 

"No." 

"Then how do you know he did it?"

"I read his mind." 

DSi

Reuben has been actively wanting a DSi for the last few weeks.  He generally doesn't ask for specific things but the boys in his summer class have them and he has been playing Mario Kart with them for the past month.  I didn't really realize it until the day he came up to me and greeted me with "Hello, I'm(a) Luigi" in the voice familiar from my days with Mario Brothers 3.  So, today John bought him one and as soon as it was turned on, he knew exactly what to do.  In fact, I am watching him right now from across the hall plug in his charger and hook it up to the system.  He had run in a few minutes ago to show me that he had finished in "three".  When John tried to find the place to stick the stylus, Joshy told him that there was already one in there and that was the extra.  He is no n00b.  Yes John, that was for you.  And yes, that is an arrow on his forehead.  The Last Airbender toys have made it into Happy Meals and he is the Avatar.  Personally I would go with Water Bending but mostly because I really don't want to drown and that seems to negate the threat. 

Dear Queen...

After watching Young Victoria, I began to muddle about on the internet trying to find more information about her time as queen and stumbled onto this.

"You can write to Her Majesty at the following address:

Her Majesty the Queen

Buckingham Palace

London SW1A 1AA

If you wish to write a formal letter,  you can open with 'Madam' and close the letter with the form 'I have the honour to be, Madam, Your Majesty's humble and obedient servant'.

This traditional approach is by no means obligatory.  You should feel free to write in whatever style you feel comfortable."

I laughed and thought, I am so going to write the queen.  It made me wonder what people wrote about and then think about people who write fan letters to stars. I have never thought to write one but I wonder if anyone who reads this has. I dreamt once about writing Jennifer Anniston but that involved asking for $1mm. Some sort of pay it forward situation that conveniently involved the paying off of my mortgage and possibly something involving cows. I have this vision in my head of the star and their special room with their bags and bags of fan mail but I wonder how much people really receive. How would you even go about knowing where to send one?

Reese Witherspoon

Hollywood, CA

Is it like the bin in the post office for all the letters kids write to Santa?  Or Elvis?  Do you always get a signed picture back?  If so, John, we need to write Bob Barker.  I can't believe that you lost that picture in Dirty Santa.  One day my grandchildren will look up and say to me, "Grandma, why do we spay and neuter our pets?" and I will say, "Bob Barker, sweetie.  Bob Barker" as I lift my hand and extend my arthritic finger towards the picture.  I know, I know, but it really is my own fault for popping my knuckles. 

You know you are married to a computer nerd...

...if you are woken up to your husband excitedly telling you that he has found a way to hack the iPhone to accept any carrier.

...when half of your extended family have his cell phone on speed dial for any and all computer issues they encounter.

...when you have a closet so full of piece meal computer parts that, if B movies turn out to be true, they could rise up and take out most of the city.

...if you know what Linux is and how to partition a computer to operate it along with standard windows.

...when you can watch Big Bang and understand ALL of the references. 

...when you have had a conversation with him from two rooms in the same house via instant messenger.

...if you knowing how to work command prompt is "hot".

...if he can solder a computer together in under 5 minutes but fixes a car door with a package of pledge wipes.

...if his defense for arguments is "he read it on the internet". 

...when your children learned what a mechanic was by playing one in a FPS.

...when you know the term FPS.

...when you have a life full of so many wonderfully weird and perfectly happy days where you never know what is going to come along next but are sure whatever it is will be modified or enhanced until it never works again.

I'm on a boat

The reunion officially starts each year with the Saturday morning pontoon boat on Greenleaf lake. This year was a year of fishing and the most successful yet. We caught four fish total (2 of which were caught by me, who will be referred to as Master Angler from here on out). Luckily though, Master Anglers are not required to remove their own fish from hooks. Catching and touching are two different skill sets altogether.

The boat is a mixed bag for John Nathan. While, like the rest of us, he enjoys the time out on the lake, his fear of the "scareball" tends to counteract said joy. He puts on 4 different layers of sunscreen in most instances and this year in a last minute "I ain't playin'" move, he went for the umbrella. All this time I have been getting him computer games for his birthday and should have been investing in parasols...

(Like father like son)

(Hadley's first pontoon ride)

(Mom taking a page out of Jess's book and self taking a pic of her and dad)

(I LOVE this smile)

(But all that excitement wears a boy out.)

As we approached the sun's peak, we decided it was time to jump in and cool off. The water was the perfect temperature but without an anchor on the boat, we found ourselves playing a little bit of catchup everytime it started to float away. Due to the migration, we eventually ended up closer to shore and with shore comes plants. At one point they had grown so thick that we needed to drive the boat with swimmers hanging on to get out of the marshy area. The entire time Jess and Joshy are screaming from the plants up around their legs. Jess is hanging on to John's neck, keeping herself afloat by pushing John under. He is trying to hang on to the boat to not get left behind, I am trying to drive slow enough to not leave any collateral damage in my wake. You wouldn't think some water plants could create so much drama but that's easy for the Master Angler to say now. Put me back in the water with the leafy tendrils and I am freaking out all the same. Seriously, it is just gross.

(Reason #102 why it is a bad idea to take a dog scared of the water into the lake with you.)

(Here is the problem. What goes in....must come out...)

One of the best things is looking back and seeing how much the boys have grown. Hard to believe the different three years makes.

Joshy

2010

2009

2008

Ben

2010

2009

2008

As the last requirement of any day on the boat, we wrapped up the journey by getting stuck in the sand. The boys watched as papa walked along the sand bar to try and formulate how we planned to get outselves out. When in a boat, waste deep water is generally not a great thing.

Not to take away the suspense, but between Ross and Dad, they got us going and unlodged from the sand. The rest of us pitched in by...doing nothing. Do I feel bad, you ask. Not really. That is why there is social order. Master Angler at the top and then pretty much everyone else. Yah servents...yah.

Reunions are full of...

Happy moments...

Caught off guard moments...

    

Crammed in the car moments...

    

Fighting moments...

Tired moments...

Water balloon moments...

Silly moments...

But mostly happy moments...