Happy 15th Anniversary, Jeff!

You're still the one~
Love, Becky

Happy Father's Day, Jeff!

This is the photo that we framed for Daddy's desk at school.

I feel bad, because Father's Day comes at a hectic time of year.

I'm not sure about you all, but with graduations, family gatherings, wrapping up the end of the school year...it's easy to let this day slide to the bottom of my list of priorities.

I suppose this is made even worse by the fact that our wedding anniversary is so close to Father's Day that Jeff often gets the short end of the stick. His big day has often become ours, with dinners that 'double' for Father's Day and Anniversary celebrations.

Not exactly fair when I get Mother's Day all to myself, lol.

So this year, I made a concerted effort to ensure we celebrate Father's Day all by itself, and that we really went all out for Jeff.

This year we actually got his gift ahead of time.

Which was big for me, as Father's Day always seems to creep up on me. "Oh, no...Father's Day is tomorrow?" I gasp, and dash off to the store to get the gift I knew he wanted.

Only to find it sold out, and having to resort to something else.

Something that is usually disappointing because it wasn't even something that he really wanted.

But this year...this year I took note of the hints he'd been dropping, and went and got him the very thing he'd asked for.

I also intercepted Jericho trying to dig out his handmade Father's Day gift (which he made at school) ahead of time, and convinced him to save it for today.

I'm the type of person that doesn't mind knowing in advance what my gift will be for some special occasion (except maybe at Christmas). In fact, I've actually picked out my own gift in the store while shopping with Jeff a few days ahead of time. It doesn't bother me at all.

But since he was a kid, Jeff is one that enjoys the anticipation of a special occasion, and waiting to find out which of the 'hints' was taken with regard to his gift. He loves surprises. I think this is all a part of his 'love language', though it's been so long since I read that book that I admit I'm a bit rusty on the particulars.

Anyway, going all out, I even took the time to make a favorite coffee last night so that it would be ready for him for breakfast this morning.

Then, after church, we invited his mom out to his restaurant of choice for lunch.

He also got to take a nice long undisturbed nap this afternoon.

And he loved his gifts.

Just before he went off to bed this evening, he told us all he'd had a wonderful Father's Day, so I'm pretty sure the day was a hit.

Which is a good thing, because it was my turn to handle our anniversary plans this year, and so far I got nothin'.

Don't Drink The Water!

Filed under Drinking Water Adventures in the Frump House:

Recently, after a long, hot day of 90+ degree weather, my husband asked our older son to get him a glass of ice water.

Jericho dutifully pulled a large glass out of the cupboard, dispensed some ice, then water, and brought it to his dad.

About a half hour later, after sipping the water while watching a movie with the kids, Jeff suddenly made a gagging-wretching noise. "E-gaack...YUCK!"

We all turned from what we were doing, and saw him holding his cup aloft and inspecting the contents in the bottom of his glass.

"There's CORN in my ice water!" he gasped in total disgust.

And we all just laughed.

Because, well, we're kinda corny that way. Not with our water, mind you, but our sense of humor.

Turns out a few kernels of corn escaped the confines of a bag in the freezer door just above the ice chute, and hid out waiting for dad's glass before making their escape, lol.

It could have been worse, though.

Like the last time mystery floaties began appearing in our ice water.

When it happened to me, I immediately investigated.

I unwrapped a mangled ziploc bag which had somehow gotten twisted around the corkscrew thing that pushes ice out the dispenser chute. It had torn open, dispersing unappetizing chunks of leftover pepperoni pizza into our water. Blech.

:: :: :: ::

However, that doesn't even begin to describe the grossness that Jeff discovered teaching his first day of summer school.

Jeff always takes in a couple large bottles of water with him to school, as the water fountains there are always tepid and the water tastes disgusting.

One of his usual water bottles was in the dishwasher, so he slipped into the bedroom and took the one he had on his nightstand.

This particular bottle was, in a previous life, a 2 quart milk bottle from a local dairy. He likes this particular one because we have a tight-fitting plastic lid that came with it, and the opening is large enough to accomodate ice cubes, and doesn't have the icky plastic taste that most water bottles do after a while.

In a bit of a hurry, and noticing that it was already half-full of water, he just grabbed out a handful of ice and pushed the cubes down inside.

Later, after talking at length to his students and working up quite a thirst, Jeff sat down at his desk to enjoy some ice water while they took a quiz.

As he's guzzling down the water, he suddenly feels the most disgusting thing plop into his mouth.

Are you ready for this?

I'm warning you...it's gross.

If you have food, I'd advise swallowing or putting whatever you have down.

It was a cotton ball.

A used cotton ball.

One that had been soaked in rubbing alcohol and used to clean off a pretty good scrape on Judah's knee.

Which Judah later found dried up in the wastebasket in my bathroom...and for some odd reason decided to take it all the way into the bedroom and rehydrate it in daddy's water bottle.

Ack!

After all, what else is a toddler to do with his newfound knowledge gleaned from playing with these?

Pomp & Circumstance

When we first moved to the Southwest almost a decade ago, I spent the first four years of our time here babysitting my sister-in-law's three children.

Our son Jericho still has a very close relationship with these cousins, because they were together so much during those years and since, and they relate more like siblings than cousins.

Back at the time of our move, I remember thinking how fast our niece Katie had grown. Almost overnight, it seemed, that darling little tot that loved "titty-tats", cherries and the color pink...the same cute little pixie that served as our flower girl in our wedding five years prior had grown up to be this vivacious little 3rd grader.

But recently we've discovered that we have been living in some strange kind of time warp, because all of a sudden, she's driving, working, dating, and tonight...tonight she graduates! *sniff, sniff*

It just doesn't seem possible. Where does the time go? You blink, and suddenly it's ten years later, and there she is, receiving her diploma and gearing up for college. *sigh*

Anyway, for her graduation, I wanted to do something special to mark the occasion.

What we came up with took me a full two days to put together, because it's 3-D.

It's technically a little too thick to be a card, so I suppose it would fall under the memory book category:

We're proud of you, Katie-Girl!

Photo Story Friday: Dumb & Dumber

Hosted by Cecily and MamaGeek

Welcome all you PhotoStory Friday bloggy peeps!

Thanks so much for stopping by!

:: :: :: ::

Our boys were out front "riding bikes" one evening last week while daddy was washing the car.

Actually, little brother Judah was sitting on his red tricycle on the paltry stretch of sidewalk directly in front of our house feeling his limitations.

He longed to break free...to ride the wide open streets like big brother Jericho, who kept passing by the house on a continuous loop from the cul-de-sac out to the street and back.

Finally, he could stand it no more. "Pweeze can I wide on ye-oh bike Jay-co?"

After several mournful pleadings, Jericho finally consented and pulled to a stop to let him climb up on the pegs.

Little brother couldn't have been happier.

Daddy called inside, "Quick, get the camera!"

I arrived on the porch and saw this.



And something about the facial expression big brother was wearing just then reminded me of something I couldn't quite put my finger on.

Until he deadpanned, "I can get 70 miles to the gallon on this hog. There's still room for one more if you still want to go to Aspen."

And then it all became very clear.

Lovely.

Now why, if he had to emulate someone, couldn't he have gone for someone a little more...noble?

Like say...Lancelot gallantly rescuing Guinevere from the stake?

Granted, it's his kid brother and not a fair maiden, but still.

On second thought, forget I said anything.

I don't need him getting any ideas like this for anything that involves swiftly moving horsepower.

Especially considering he asked for one of these motorized bad-boys for his upcoming birthday

I'm just not sure I'm ready for him to be pulling crazy stunts like this

And especially not in front of his daredevil impressionable little brother who has already started doing things like this

and this

and this!

Oh, lawsamercy...why don't they make smelling salts anymore? I'm feeling a little faint all of a sudden...

Doh!

Leap-blogging off of Dawn's idea, we went HERE and Simpsonized our family.

Meet the Simpson's newest neighbors, The Frumps!



Just thought I'd pass along the info in case you were in need of something to waste the next four hours of your time!

For some odd reason I was thinking the above sentence in comedian Gilbert Gottfried's voice as I was typing, lol.

(Betcha go check out the Simpsonizing site, though, huh?)

In Which She Brags Shamelessly On Her Kids

One of Jericho's daily chores is to feed the dog, and to see to it that her water dish (an old camping cooler) stays clean and sterile and is refilled each afternoon with fresh, cool water.

A couple of mornings ago I went outside and found that the cooler was noticably green and disgusting around the edges.

Now I know that hot weather speeds this algae growing process up, but if our son was a little more vigilant in preventing it from getting to this point, that might help, too.

To demonstrate how repugnant and unsanitary it was for the dog to be drinking such dirty water, I picked up a sippy cup that I'd found earlier that morning beneath the sofa (which had Ovaltine brownish-pink yogurt curdled inside) and asked if he'd enjoy drinking the contents of such a cup.

He was, of course, thoroughly repulsed.

So, armed with a bottle of Dawn and a scrub brush, out he went to get the job done.

And--as he is wont to do--stayed out far longer than necessary for the task.

I had started getting dinner ready, and after several minutes found that I needed the garbage to be taken out, and so called for him to come in.

He showed up at the back door like this.



And then proceeded to do this.



And this.



And this.



This from my son who has begun making sounds about wanting to be treated like he's more mature. You know, like a teenager.

Which is kind of hard for a mom to do when he's pulling goofy stunts like this and still plays with action figures and G.I. Joes.

:: :: :: ::

They say that kids thrive on routines.

I believe this to be true in lots of ways.

For instance, if daddy doesn't scoop little Judah up at approximately the same time each night, take him around to kiss everyone goodnight, and then tuck him into his bed with his blankie and binkie, he goes hog-wild, tearing through the house like Taz, leaving a wake of destruction in his path (Judah, not daddy, lol).

Then, with his pent-up energy completely spent, he will lay down wherever he happens to end up and promptly fall asleep there.

:: :: :: ::

One of my favorite things ever is when I catch a glimpse of how important to our toddler's security and well-being that boundaries and routines are in his eyes.

It used to be that when he would see the Golden Arches, even if he'd just eaten, he would whine, "I want a hamma-grrr", and would throw a fit when we passed it, whining all the way home.

But after much work, with consistency and follow-through, he no longer whines about it all the way home.

After dropping big brother off at school one morning last week, Judah and I ran errands on the way home, and when passing by the golden arches, he 'tested' me by asking for a hamma-grrr.

To which I immediately replied, "No. We're going to go home and you can have some yogurt or cereal." I tried to sound enthusiastic about the prospects.

From him I hear that single, indignant **cough** sound that kids do when they are put out by something their parents do, immediately followed by a moderately whiney, "What?!" But that was it.

Not a huge gain I'll admit, but it sure beats the incessant whiney cries all the way home.

:: :: :: ::

Another 'tradition' that Judah likes to make sure I uphold, is how I respond to his outlandish claims.

And being the kind of kid he is, he makes several of these a day.

Earlier today, he looked at me very seriously, wearing one of the extra backpacks we have around the house and said to me, "I go to cowwedge wif my pack-ack".

"You did naaaaaat" I replied, poking him in the tummy as if to say, "Silly boy". He grins and runs off to find something else to get into do.

"Mama, the dwagon bited me" he announced later, after seeing a Komodo dragon in a picture book.

"Nuh-uh" I said, poking him in the tummy.

Normally he would grin, and run off, but this time he stayed planted where he was, shook his little head as if disagreeing with me...then his eyes light up and he tilts his head slightly and says, "It did naaaaaht!" mimicking almost exactly my usual tone and response to his claims.

With children, it would seem that predictability translates as security, and gives a child a sense of contentment.

Well, except when he sees his bag of pinata candy on top of the fridge and wants it bad, asking and whining and pleading for it.

Though your answers are predictably "no" (he only gets it when we use it to bribe him to eat his dinner offer it to him), there is simply no contentment when he knows that bag is full of "canny" and "bub-oh gom".

:: :: :: ::

Judah recently came up to me, cradled my cheeks in his hands and said all affectionately, "Mama? Ye-oh so cute."

Made my heart melt into a little puddle right there on the floor.

:: :: :: ::

While in the middle of a VBS planning meeting last Sunday evening after church, Jericho and Judah were hanging out with some of the kids just outside the door on the concrete pad.

Jericho came running in and told my friend Brenda, "Ah, Cassie fell off the skateboard out there, and we're trying to revive her..."

"Trying to revive her?!!" she exclaimed, already rushing to get outside to her daughter.

Turns out Cassie had fallen off one of the boys skateboards outside, got the wind knocked out of her, and bruised up her elbow pretty good.

Not to mention that it probably stung a bit to have fallen in front of all those boys.

We heard from Cassie later that all she saw and heard in the ensuing chaos of her fall were the boys leaning over her, their concerned voices asking, "Are you okay?" and Judah saying over and over, "She dead! Cath-y dead!"

:: :: :: ::

Now that Awana is over for the summer, Jeff has begun another study of the book of Revelation with our teens from church.

The kids in our youth group are fascinated with the study of the end times, and can't seem to get enough of it. Each summer, they literally beg for us to go through this book again.

Seeing as there is a blessing for all those who read that book, hear it and take to heart what is written in it (Rev. 1:3), we figure it can't hurt to study it again and again each and every summer.

Besides, it helps to clarify their understanding a little more each time we go through it.

Because we work with the youth group, our boys are often in our class with us and are therefore exposed to a great deal of teaching on topics one might think were far above their level of comprehension.

But at 11, Jericho already has a pretty good working knowledge of the book.

Or so we thought.

Upon starting the study last week, Jeff asked each person in attendance to draw a picture of what they think of when they study the book of Revelation, or End Times prophecies.

There were the expected themes of chaos and destruction, the Battle of Armageddon, Jesus Second coming and his reign during the Millennium. One girl drew question marks all over her paper, representing the great mystery that it all was to her.

Jericho, however, drew a picture of a demon and an angel throwing down insults at each other in a "Yo' Mama" contest.

I'm thinking we have some work ahead of us trying to straighten out his understanding of such things.