Monday, August 25, 2008
Sunday, August 24, 2008
Thursday, August 21, 2008
(Here she is, with the actual assessor/kidnapper)
Jane had her kindergarten assessment today. Rhyming ("hog, log, hip, dip, mouse, house--is that wight Mom?), counting ("I can't wememboh how much I could count.") and starting sounds ("I saw a Mouse picture and I said, "mmm, M, wight?"), she knew it all and apparently is assessed to be ready for kindergarten--which starts in 2 weeks.
Let's assess the mom. Let's assess if she is ready for Jane-in-kindergarten, shall we?
Tuesday, August 19, 2008
Girls Camp was beyond wonderful and deserves it's own post. One hopefully filled with many pictures this flattering.
Ryan, seen here with his twin Seth (I could not get over how much they look alike after not seeing them for a week), basically does a better job at homemaking and mothering than me. It's a little embarrassing to return home to a (deep) cleaned house, the best birthday party ever, ALL WHILE HE WORKED FULL TIME from home, after a week away. I mean, really. What is my point in this relationship, anyway?
Our garden finally decided to produce. We got 6 ears of corn, about 20 carrots, an onion and 8 tomatoes. Friday for dinner we had omelets made with some of the above ingredients and corn on the cob. A week of camping and I'm all about self-sufficiency and nature!
We had a lovely 11th anniversary. Emma drew this cute cute cute picture and put it above our bed as a surprise on Saturday. It was super low key (for once) and we celebrated by eating a fun-yummy-pricey dinner at the Melting Pot.
And there you go. Back to blood-sucking, hurdle-jumping, clothes-needing, older-getting real life.
Saturday, August 16, 2008
Thursday, August 14, 2008
1.) Have the birthday boy (BB) plan the guest list, and itinerary.
2.) Download this MS birthday invitation template: http://office.microsoft.com/en-us/templates/TC010127911033.aspx?pid=CT101433941033. Let BB and sis spend the next 3 hours customizing, selecting fonts and colors, printing out, stamping and hand delivering invitations.
3.) Have BB remind you that Mom always puts pictures on the table for birthdays. Let him rummage through all the photos and spend the next hour sorting & classifying them.
HappyBirthday sign to enhance his already jammin' decor
5.) Get a DJ and make some signs so everyone knows that there is a "Party in Backyard".
th birthday party where you see how many clothes pins you can drop from your forehead into a jar. No clothes pins lying around? ... No problem, army guys work just as well. Jar can also be swapped out for old Tupperware container.
into these to keep the cheater 8 year old boys from trying to look through, under, around the blindfold. Now, play another old-school game ... blind man's bluff.
11.) After the cake is gone. Have the BB open his presents
This could take longer than expected if the fun neighbor brothers spent 3 hours wrapping multiple layers of boxes with scotch, masking, and duct tape (no lie), and packing the various box levels with balloons and streamers and paper mache cut outs and wrapping paper and random notes, painted polka dots, etc.
even when you think you are done, you aren't because at the bottom are at least 40 envelopes, each filled with paper and sealed. Settle in when you hear the boys say ... "4 of them have something in them and the rest are just junk! ... but you gotta open them all to know which is which."
Tuesday, August 12, 2008
I vividly remember getting a call the (Friday) night before the big day as I was out with some friends. Jessica derives great satisfaction from calling the outing my "bachelor party" because of the years of discomfort her terminology generated for me. No adult on earth equates the events of that evening with a bachelor party. Perhaps there are some kindergartners who might, but even there we would be hard pressed to find many. So in the middle of the "festivities" I get a call from Jessica. She is in tears. She is hysterical. She is going on and on about something. I can make out "wedding license" being thrown generously. Finally, I am able to deduce two things from her ravings.
1.) We have no wedding license.
2.) It is all my fault.
I don't know if it was her overwhelming reaction or my friends jeers in the background, but the whole thing struck me as kind of funny. So after feigning heartfelt concern, I hung up and proceeded to have a good laugh about it with my buddies.
This being my 1st marriage, I was unaware that it was the man's responsibility to acquire the wedding license. Much like the customary "talk with the father-in-law, " I was oblivious to this tradition of western matrimony. I also didn't quite grasp the full import of the little slip of paper. Apparently ... and you will probably be as shocked as I was when you hear this ... you cannot get married without one! Even the LDS Temple won't perform the ceremony without this license (except in Las Vegas ... even the Temple is a little looser in Vegas).
So we went to bed that night not sure whether or not there would be the much anticipated wedding in the morning. As legend now has it, my mother-in-law locked herself in her closet tearfully pleading in prayer that we would somehow be able to resolve this. Meanwhile calls were made all over to find out if we could still get married and fill out the paperwork later (nope!). So My father-in-law pulled some strings and got a local judge to open a courthouse on a Saturday morning dragging in some poor clerk to do us a big favor.
Monday, August 11, 2008
(last year's girls)
1 fun fun assistant
(Lindsay and her supportive husband Brett)