All by my shelf

It's official. My husband rocks. This was my mothers day gift which he made with his own two mitts. And even though our son picked up some choice phrases over the process, and we nearly had to seek marital counseling over the hanging of it, it is beautiful and I love it.

Thanks so much Chano.

To Jess, on her Birthday

Happy Birthday my darling friend! I hope you have a great day, are spoiled rotten, and able to forget that we are now officially in a way less cool demographic.

This year is not only a big birthday, but also markes the 10 year anniversary of when you left Ricks and Heritage Manor, #108. In fact, when I think about it we only lived together for of 7% our lives, doesn't it seem like more?

All I know what that there was magic in those days, and a huge part of that was because of you. Lke the song says, "Beause I knew you, I have been changed for good". Without a doubt, I know that I am better because of you (even though you are without a doubt the worst cusser I have ever encountered). I love you so much, and value your friendship as one of the best blessings of my life. Have a great day, and a great year.

Megan

Catching Up...

I got really behind, so forgive my forever long post!

Hank loves nothing more than to go to the "man-store" (Home Depot) with his dad. Here they are picking out wood for our garden spot.

High-fiveing their own awesomeness!

About two weeks ago, Grandpa and Grandma treated the family to a few days in Seaside, Oregon. We had so much fun! We started by going to the zoo: Hank and Haylee staring down the polar bear.

All the grandkids, plus some more!

The Zoo boasted a train, so yes faithful readers, Hank got his first ride on a train. I dont think he stopped talking about it for a week later!

Afterwards, we got to meet the conductor. I'm sure Hank thinks that is the best job in the world!

Seaside socked in...but still lovely

Hank adopted one of Chloe's dolls. He made sure she was fed, and tucked her into Grandma's sweatpants for warmth. It was pretty cute-until he started making out with the doll and CPS came to take her away.

Go fly a kite!

Memorial Day Campout: Well, kindof. It was a campout until about midnight when Hank was relegated back to his own bed, and then it just became Shane and I sleeping on the floor.

Here he is doing his fake snoring.

Reverence is more than just quietly sitting.

A few years back, Shane watched as a nurse put an IV in my hand. When she left, he turned to me and I quote, "I would rather take a bullet in my brain then have an IV. A bullet in my brain." He should have mentioned that to his appendix.

At last, Hollywood gets it right!

Buzzzzz

The buzz cut has a long and prolific history. Here are some examples:

Now anyone who has seen my boy in action, knows that he is a sweater. Not a sweater, but a sweat-er. He sweats like a dyslexic on Countdown. You have never seen a child sweat like this before. So- after much discussion, we decided to give Hank his first real summer haircut. Prepare yourself.

Before:

Are you ready?

After:

Hank was actually pretty upset, and refuses to look at himself in the mirror, Shane keeps looking at him and saying "I dont like it, I just dont like it" and I cried.

Hair grows back, right?

Catching Up...

So I haven't posted in a while, and to curb the wrath of Nana, here are some of the latest....

Hank's Easter:

It was pretty windy Saturday afternoon, so we had an indoor Easter Egg Hunt this year. Last year, Hank was completely baffled by the whole experience, so it was fun to see him get into the action this year. In fact, he loved it so much, that Shane (the bestest dad around) had to re-hide the eggs about six times for Hank to re-find. I don't know who had more fun!

Hank's Big-Boy Bed:

Yes, we have made the change. Yes, I cried when we took down the crib. Yes, he thinks he is pretty hot stuff in his new bed.

Shane added the 2x4 after Hank fell out on night two. Now he rests with at least one eye closed (Chuck Norris style)

You will notice his sleeping companions, his Elmo cup and of course, Thomas the Freaking Train.

Where does he get those eye-lashes from?

And speaking of Thomas:

You will all be interested to know that Thomas the Freaking Train has now joined in our family prayers. We were sitting down for dinner, and in our family we hold hands when we pray at the table. So I grab Shane's hand, and he goes to grab Hank's, but Hank insists that Shane hold onto Thomas on one side and he hold onto the other. Yea, that prayer was a real spiritual experience. Do we seem like a family ready to be featured on Wife Swap?

This kid needs a sibling. Seriously.

My Aunt Lynn – The Most Christian Woman I Have Ever Known

I am not a blogger. I have posted once on our family blog on our 8th wedding anniversary. I learned my lesson long ago not to leave messages on anyone’s blogs after leaving a post on my sister-in-laws Bethany blog after she posted about their family dog Cujo and a new trick. My post questioned if the d@#% dog was still alive. Even though I tried to retract my statement the damage was done, the post was now the property of the World Wide Web. This was a bad move for two reasons. First everyone in Megan’s family loves Cujo, (Mike being the exception)and second, twelve days after my message; Cujo left this life to wait for Anne, Bethany, Megan, Derek and Simon in dog heaven. I learned my lesson then, and vowed never to leave a message again. (For those of you who I have left messages for, please don’t mention them to Lynn).

This brings me to the reason why I am making a rare appearance in the blogging world…

While attending a family get together a while back, my dear Aunt (by marriage) Lynn out of the blue said that she still had not forgiven me for some horrible thing I had done. This could have been a number of things, but which one I had no idea.

My first thought was…“come on the Steelers Seahawks Super Bowl was years ago.” (I took the Steelers over the Seahawks and she should be mad at Jeremy Stevens, not me. Plus I walked away with $300 bucks, so let her be mad…A lesson I learned years ago, if you are a Seahawks fan you are in for a life heartache and pain. Wish I could force myself to do the same with those awful Crimson and Gray Cougars).

Before I could think of anything else she told me the reason for her ill feelings...

Last March Lynn paid “homage” to me in her blog by picking my beloved Kansas Jayhawks to win the NCAA College Basketball National Championship. (This is something I have done every year, for the past 15 plus years.) It was a nice post titled “I want to be like Bethany.” Granted she did direct the following question to me - Shane, they can't blow it so badly three years in a row can they????? She then shows a picture of a Jayhawk player wiping a “teardrop” out of his eye with the questions “Will this be me in a couple of weeks?” To which she answers, “If history has taught us anything…Yes.” What was I to say to that, and not sound like a cool-aid drinking Seahawk fan?

Lynn, with it being the second greatest time of the year again, it is time I give you the credit you deserve. With the Jayhawks knowing that the most Christian Woman Ever to Walk This Earth picked them to win it all, they had the power to grind out one more “W” then the other guys. As I watched Mario Chalmers shoot the three with just 2 seconds left to force overtime, I knew it was because you, the most Christian Women I have Ever Known, had picked them to win it all that his shot went in.

I want to thank you, Lynn, on the behalf of the following:

-For Megan, who, for the first time in her married life, did not have to watch her husband rant and rave, throw things and swear off ever picking the Jayhawks again, let alone ever filling out another bracket ever again...ever.

-For Henry, for not having to watch is old man fall to the floor and cry like he had just heard the news that Thomas and his Friends had each fallen off the island of Sodor.

-For our new TV, for not having to have a scar in the middle of the screen from the pen that went flying across the room when the Jayhawks lost to Bucknell, freaking Bucknell. Sorry about that old TV, you barely notice it.

-And most of all a sincere thank you from me. From that young boy that skipped church one Sunday morning because he was “sick” and turned on the TV and saw the Jayhawks play for the first time. From that moment on, the Jayhawks were my team. To the High School kid who cheered on his rival high school because future great Kansas center Scott Pollard played for them. To me now, finally having the chance to see one of my teams win the big one. All along there have been an abundance of talented Kansas teams to cheer on, but no matter how close they came, (make your free throws Nick Collison), they just could not get it done. That was until last year, when you, Lynn, saw the light, and joined

Rock, Chalk, Jayhawk!

So to try and mend our relationship (I hope it is not too late) I dedicate this rare post to you, Lynn. And in so doing implore you to pick the Jayhawks again this year.

Editor’s note: This year on paper I am picking Pitt to win it all. Come on, I have a title to defend.

My son is obsessed. Let me say again, my son is obsessed. I don't know what magical power this little train holds over Hank. Maybe a subliminal message is being broadcast through the TV that commands children's' love and fealty. Maybe that happy blue paint is coated with candied heroin. Who knows? All I know is my son is obsessed.

Often the first words out of his mouth in the morning are "choo-choo" (right after, "Good morning Mother? How was your sleep? I didn't wake us up too early did I?"). He eats, sleeps and bathes with his train. He will throw down a slap fight to any child who comes too close to his train. He cries when his train pj's go in the wash.

Evidence of a problem: In nursery one Sunday, Hank discovers that the church isn't true, because there is no Thomas for him to play with among the toys. He is so distraught, that his sweet nursery leader Sis. Draney had to fashion him a play dough train in order to calm him down.

More evidence: Hank covering his face with train stickers. Is this the face of sanity?

Still more evidence: Saturday we went to Yakima to watch Shane's bro Seth coach a basketball game. We get out of the car and Shane tells Hank to leave the train in the car during the game. Realizing that Shane had basically just asked the Israelites to leave behind the Ark, I told the panicked Hank that he could bring his train in with him. Hank takes the train and I hear him say "Sorry, choo-choo...sorry choo-choo," over and over as he lovingly patted it like it was one of Lenny's mice.

I think if he had to chose between me and the train, he would pick the train, and his next choice would be the play dough train that Sis. Draney made.

My son is obsessed.