Hobson House

Well, It Wasn't the Swine Flu

2009-05-03T12:30:00.000-07:00

So Grace has recovered from her ~~mild cold~~ extended illness. Thanks for all the warm wishes for her health. Considering the swine flu outbreak, we are glad things did not escalate.

Speaking of swines, I wanted to share some details from Jake's Pinewood Derby. The Pinewood Derby is a boy scout activity where the boys hand pieces of wood over to their dads, and those fathers carve JPL-worthy vehicles out of them. It is the boys scouts duty to leave the fathers alone while they work.

We went against the grain, and had the kids actually work on their cars. They worked on them with Grandpa, which made it very special. Jake made a cheese/mouse car. He won the trophy for best design!

Grace really wanted a trophy too.

She made a pig car. Sadly, Grace refused to put ears on the pig. I begged and pleaded with her, but she was insistent.

So Grace ended up with a car that looks like ...

... a pig with no ears.

What?

WHAT??!!!

It's a pig with no ears, okay?!

Fever

2009-03-11T20:10:00.000-07:00

Grace has been sick for the past three days. High fever, sore throat, chills, sweats, all that jazz. The poor girl could not sleep last night, and was continuously waking up with aches. After she finally fell asleep (for the fourth time) I went to snuggle her a little in her bed.

I held her fevered body and tucked my nose into her wavy hair. It was a tender moment, and I reflected on Grace's sweet, yet feisty, little soul. I love my little girl so much, and the richness and life she brings to our family.

So I was warmed to the heart when I heard her stir, and say, "Mama?"

"Yes, honey?"

"Go sleep with Dad."

I'm Allowed to Cry a Little

2009-03-08T22:53:00.000-07:00

Because he ...

is now eight years old.

And if I wrote a post about how much he changed my life, when he came into it ... it would take up pages and pages of this blog.

Happy birthday Jake. We love you more than we could ever say, and are more proud of you each day.

You Wish You Were As Rad a Mom as I ...

2009-03-05T22:55:00.000-08:00

Yeah, he's 18 months.

So what?

Stitch Free!

2009-03-02T20:46:00.000-08:00

Grace Explains Courtship, Engagement and Marriage

2009-02-27T17:43:00.000-08:00

Well the ball is, like, you find a boy ... the moms find a boy.

If they like a boy, they choose it.

First, someone says, "Grace, do you want to be Dad's husband?"

"Yes."

"Dad, to you want to be Grace's husband?"

"No."

And then the boy and the girl go home, and the girl shows the boy all around the house, and then they go different places that the boy has never been.

The End.

Things Matt Heard Last Night

2009-02-22T09:17:00.000-08:00

I don't want to be here anymore! Waaaah! Let's escape!

Waaaah! Is that my brains?

Now I know what my guts look like! Waaaaah!

Don't let the doctor touch me. He will take my blood, and then I will DIE!!!

Last night Grace was climbing onto a Rubbermaid bin in her closet. The bin gave way, and Grace fell, her leg smashing into the dresser corner on the way down.

Her skin *gag, wretch, gag* ripped. She didn't get cut, the skin just ripped open.

Matt took her to the ER where she patiently waited to be stitched up.

*by patiently, I mean screaming bloody murder the entire three hours, and having to be strapped down to the bed in order for the doctor to look at her

Grace is feeling much better today, thankfully. It was a long night, and I and glad to have my happy girl back. No more dangerous climbing for her, no sireee.

Except this morning when I saw her climbing onto the bunk bed, without using her hands. And I almost fainted.

*****

PS. For those wondering about how to make your photos bigger in Blogger, I posted on it here ... www.christiehobson.blogspot.com .

Gifted and Young?

2009-02-20T17:49:00.000-08:00

Jake: "Mom. Today at school me and Sabrina were doing some hard math."

Me: "Oh yeah? Who is Sabrina?"

"She is a girl in my math class. We will probably be in the same class next year, because of the Gay Test."

"What?!"

"Yeah, you know, that test I took a while ago? The Gay Test? So we will probably be in the Gay Class together."

".... .... .... you mean, the Gate Test?"

"Oh yeaaaah, the Gate Test. That's it."

And totally unrelated, here is a photo of my other son having breakfast this morning:

Nope. No trouble with gender assignment over here!

Please, God, Let this Not be a Sign

2009-02-11T21:17:00.000-08:00

Grace (eating Lucky Charms this morning): "Mom."

"What?"

"What is it like in jail?"

"... ummm ... Well, I'm sure it is not fun."

...

"I bet if I brought my toys, it would be fun."

Mom, At Least I'm Not Pregnant

2009-02-05T07:48:00.000-08:00

Yesterday I went to Costco, and realized that I had forgotten my Costco card.

I went to the membership desk and asked them if I could get a temporary card, and the nice man behind the desk replied that he would just make me a new one.

"Great, thanks so much!"

"Sure, what is your last name? Oh, hi buddy!" He added, turning his attention to Nathan in the cart.

"Hobson."

"Okay ... driver's licence?"

I fiddled in my wallet, trying to pull my licence out of the plastic sleeve into which it was jammed.

"Are you having fun?" the nice man asked Nathan, while I did this. "Yeah? Playing in mommy's purse?"

"Okay, here it is," I said, handing over my drivers licence.

"Thanks. Your son is so cute."

"Ah, thanks," I said, turning to look at my sweet boy.

And. Oh. My. Gosh.

There is my cute little baby, a huge happy grin on his face, arms raised up in the air in victory.

Clenched in his tiny chubby finger are about six ... err ... feminine products.

I think I melted into the ground; the mortification has fogged my memory.

"Ahahahaha!" I nervously laughed.

"Kids. They like to get into everything, huh? Why don't you step over here and we will take your picture?"

"Okay."

"Oh, kids are so funny," the man continued.

And that is why, this weekend, we will be getting a membership at Sam's Club.

January 19, 2009. I repeat ... JANUARY.

2009-01-20T07:35:00.000-08:00

And we are at the beach.

I love California.

A Miracle of Sorts

2009-01-19T11:32:00.000-08:00

Not one, but TWO MEN VACCUUMING!!!

You know you're jealous.

A Heinous Haircut

2009-01-16T10:27:00.000-08:00

Do you guys remember Jim Carrey in Dumb and Dumber?

You do?

Huh.

... ... ...

I'm just saying.

Here I try to prove that hairspray can solve the world's problems.

Nathan doesn't look so sure.

We're Alive!

2009-01-12T20:26:00.000-08:00

One on my resolutions for the new year was to be better at keeping up with my blog.

That resolution is doing about as well as:

1. Eat only lettuce.
2. Run 20 miles each day.
3. Keep toe nails painted. (And that is not a joke.)
4. Never yell at kids again. (LOL! In fact, LOL so loud that the kids came out and I screamed at them to get back in bed.)

But I am going to be better, starting NOW. Exciting posts to follow.

Or at least posts about laundry, diapers and naughty days at school.

Thrilling stuff like that.

Why We Are Attending Both Church Services on Sunday

2008-12-15T07:30:00.000-08:00

I think I look pretty good all blurry and with my face turned away from the camera.

The other night Nathan and I cuddled on the couch and looked at Christmas books. Some of them had carols in them and since Matt was still not home (be nice to your UPS man these days) I felt comfortable belting out a few.

After "Away in a Manger" and "O Come All Ye Faithful," I launched into Jingle Bells.

Grace was so cute. She grabbed her unicorn and started spinning around and dancing with it. I told Jake to grab may camera for me.

After the third round of Jingle Bells, Grace said, "Do another one, Mom! Sing one that I like."

"One that you like?" I replied.

"Yeah ... Not one of those Jesus ones!"

O Holy Night indeed.

Welcome Nibbles Hobson

2008-12-14T07:01:00.001-08:00

My parents watched Jake and Grace overnight yesterday, and thought that if they came back with a small rodent, we might never ask them to do that again.

Nice try, mom, nice try.

We are all actually quite fond of little Nibbles; the fridge is covered in portrait of Nibbles, Jake is writing a report for school on how Nibbles became a Hobson, and Matt even held him yesterday evening and made a clicking sound at him that meant, "Although I abhor rodents, you are cute, and I shall accept you as my rodent child." Or something like that.

Jake is most fond of Nibbles and restrained himself to only ask 437 times yesterday, while we were at the mall, if we thought Nibbles was okay with us gone.

He was.

Have a Holly Humbug Christmas

2008-12-09T09:47:00.000-08:00

Is this what it looks like when you make Christmas cookies with your daughter?

If you answered yes, we cannot be friends anymore.

I always have these lovely visions of how family bonding activities are going to pan out. We will turn on some soft Christmas music, Grace and I will roll out the sugar cookie dough and none will stick/crack/end up on the floor, the cookie cutters will be placed gingerly onto the dough while I share fond memories of Christmases from my childhood.

What happens to my visions? WHAT??? Why can't I have a Martha Stewart cookie experience?

Instead, flour is flying everywhere, the stupid dough keeps sticking/cracking/ending up on the floor, Grace is shoving cutters into the dough like she is trying to cut steel, and I am yelling at her to stop eating the dough and licking her fingers. Meanwhile, Nathan is laying on the floor screaming and thrashing because I will not let him eat the leftover Halloween candy he found in the cabinets. And since Grace insists on sticking every cookie cutter right into the center of the dough EVERY time, the whole experience takes approximately 18 hours.

Joy to the world!

Also, look at this witch and her pretend kids.

A cute little outfit, nicely styled hair, perfect make up.

And then. There are these moms.

I don't even know where to start with this one. I can't even believe I am exposing myself in this way, but my dignity was lost some time ago and frequently appears on milk cartons nationwide.

I cannot stop scrolling up and looking at my hair.

omg.

Anyway, I am sure that when we decorate those cookies tonight I will have on a lovely dress, heels, painted nails, etc. The kids will look like they are straight out of a gap ad, and the cookies will be too beautiful to eat.

At least that's my plan.

Which is probably part of my problem.

Classy

2008-12-05T09:00:00.000-08:00

Nathan was kind of pi**ed about having to take a nap.

FOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!

2008-12-02T06:45:00.000-08:00

('Scuse me, just blowing the dust of this little blog here.)

(Also, how is the sound for blowing spelled? Trust me, I actually blew on my keyboard four times before deciding, "Huh. Good enough.")

Where were we?

Oh, yes, much has happened since our first cub scout meeting.

1. Nanny nanny boo boo, Matt and I got to go to this ... !

My parents so kindly watched the kids so we could have a weekend away in L.A. and cross off Matt's "Number One Band I Want to See Live," Ben Folds. It was a blast.

Here we are in the hotel room, which I was relieved to fine bullet hole-less after reading the reviews on line.

Yes, you see, Maybelline called me before the concert and offered me a large sum of money if I promoted their liquid eyeliner. Boy, did I promote.

It is hard to get a good picture at a concert. Unless, apparently, you have an iPhone, which 96% of the concert-goers did. They kept holding them up and getting killer shots while I fumbled with our point and shoot.

After the show, Matt wanted to take me somewhere special; it has been a while since we had gone on a date, and it was important to make it romantic and memorable.

Nothing says, "I am so lucky to spend the rest of my life with you," like a Moons Over My Hammy.

2. My second favorite holiday. Black Friday. Maybe this is not a holiday, per say, but in our family it is. My mom, dad and I have headed out early for the past three years, and it is always memorable. But also not memorable, because by then end of the day we are lucky to remember our names and how to get home.

The alarm went off at 3:30, but I was already awake, filled with excitement about getting my hands on a giant pack of play dough for $6.00.

In the car by 4:00.

No kidding.

That is the funniest part of every Black Friday. There is never any huge item (t.v.s, cameras, computers, etc.) that I am after. It is always the lamest offer at the store, and while people are punching each other over the 90 inch flat screens, I am of in the corner where crickets are chirping, throwing the giant blow up horse video game into my cart with satisfaction. Whoo! Good thing I got here at 4:15!

Christie's Mom, ads in hand. 4:15 am.

My favorite part of this year's BF was waiting in line at Wal Mart. While we we mapping out the fastest route to the $8.00 hoodies (again, laptops for some; hoodies for others), a wild woman came over and started harassing us to see our ad. Then she started talking about the cameras and how they were passing out vouchers.

Only she didn't say vouchers.

See, she was a middle eastern descent (or something) and it was with curious glances that we listened as she told us that they were only passing out a few VULTURES for each item.

My dad, usually such a gentlemanly fellow, could not resist continuing the conversation by asking, "Well, how many vultures are they passing out?" "What time to they start passing out the vultures?" "Huh, well I hope we get a vulture." The lady was oblivious, just going on and on about the vultures, as my mom had to turn and walk away before exploding in giggles. I was holding the ad the whole time, but finally tears started streaming down my face and my shoulders were shaking so hard from holding in the laughter, that I had to thrust it at my dad before joining my mom.

Friends, that is the true holiday spirit. Making fun of people while standing in line at Wal Mart at 4:30 in the morning.

My mom started losing it and went feral over holly garland at Michael's, dumping the display all over the floor.

My dad in the promised land. The Sears Tool Department.

3. My big score on BF was a new Christmas tree. We are so glad to have one that is pre lit, but that is not even the best part. Oh no. See, our new tree SPINS. That's right, it is perched upon a rotating stand and we all love watching it pirouette around the living room.

It's like living in the Christmas display at Michael's.

Matt helped Jake put the star on the tree. (Also, please acknowledge my rad photo wall to the right. Get yourself some cheap clip frames from Ikea, and there you go.)

The star was kind of heavy.

Since this post is already 20 pages long, here are some of our favorite ornaments:

Our first Christmas together. When we were foxy (hahaha! ... ha ... ha ...).

Matt's UPS man ornament that I had custom made for him.

And my friend, Robyn, had this one made for me when I was pregnant and teaching. I still look like this, sadly. And I am not pregnant.

4. Hmmm. What else? Oh. Yeah. I aged. I am now 17.

5. I have also been busy busy shooting people.

LOLPMP! (... sigh, I just crack myself up!) (And I have had a lot of coffee.)

Anyway, you can see some here, but mostly it is just my kids. Which is worth it, since they are obviously the cutest kids in the world. I feel like I am learning a lot, but the more I learn, the more there is to learn.

Which I guess is okay, because time is on your side when you are only 17.

The end.

My Wolf Cub

2008-11-12T21:08:00.000-08:00

Oh my awesome cuteness. Today was Jake's first cub scout meeting; he is in a wolf den with a few other kids from his school. The excitement I saw in him today, getting ready for his first meeting, almost brought me to tears.

After school we went to purchase his uniform, and it was so much fun walking through the scout shop and seeing all of the activities, crafts, and "Man Stuff" on display. Jake kept asking me if he could "walk around," which I daringly allowed since the shop is maybe 200 sq. ft. He tried on his shirt in the dressing room, and I could already tell he was getting pumped up.

The meeting started at 6:00, but when we arrived home from the scout shop, at 4:00, Jake retreated to the bedroom and emerged a SCOUT. "Can you help me put this on?" he asked, thrusting his wolf kerchief at me.

A bit later I told Jake that I wanted to take some pictures of him in his uniform before it got too dark. We walked outside, and I told him to stand against the wall. As I lifted my camera, Jake, in all seriousness, suddenly did this...

Apparently this was the official photo shoot for the Boy Scouts of America. I dared not utter a giggle. Hard as it was.

I am so excited for Jake, I really hope that scouts is everything he hopes for. I am excited, myself, for all of the fun activities we can do together, watching Jake learn new things and teaching him to serve others.

And I am excited to see him looking so ridiculously cute in his uniform every week.

(Another pose idea from Jake. Being my assistant on photo shoots is really paying off. There better be a badge for that.)

What's Not Normal About...

2008-11-07T07:37:00.000-08:00

Sitting in a Tonka truck parked in the closet and reading a Barbie book to your brother?

(And don't doubt for a second that I am not busting out the Mr. Clean Magic Eraser right now to wipe those scuffs off the walls, omg.)

Are. You. Serious.

2008-11-04T22:06:00.001-08:00

Halloween

2008-11-04T20:00:00.000-08:00

I like looking at blogs after Halloween, don't you? I think it is fun to see how ~~all the people I randomly stalk~~ my friends dress up their kids. It's cute.

Halloween was especially fun this year because the kids did not have school, so we were able to enjoy the whole day together. We had a little lunch party with mummy dogs, and told spooky stories. The spooky stories were all good and fun, with Jake and Grace's ending with, "Then! The monster came out and said PIZZA! Bwhahahahaha!" and everyone laughed and laughed. It was all good and fun, that is, until I told one where the girl's head falls off at the end, and I could almost see the scars developing on their sweet little souls. Oops.

Duh. That is totally blood.

After lunch, it was time to start prepping for the costumes. Jake was dressing as Aang, from Avatar: The Last Airbender, so we needed to give his head a fresh shave. Halfway through, I laughed and said, "Ha! You look like those guys who are bald on top with hair just on the sides."

"Yeah!" he laughed. "Like Grandpa! Hahahahaha!"

Costumed up, we headed for my parents house for some Trick or Treating.

A good mom would have altered this costume before Halloween. A ghetto mom, like myself, just sticks 17 safety pins in her baby's clothes.

"Dude, Jake! Get over here! They're putting CANDY in this thing!"

Grace was Pikachu and, as expected...

she wore the mask for approximately 3.5 minutes. Then it was Grace dressed and a blob of mustard.

Jake made a great Avatar. When we were getting ready, he was kind of worried that people would not know who he was. I affirmed him that at least most kids would know. Well, apparently we are not the only adults watching Avatar after the kids are in bed, because a lot of them commented on how much they like the show.

Not only that, but he had a large group of people stop him and and compliment him on his costume, and one guy even asked to take a picture. Who knew? Airbender = celebrity.

Something is not right here...
After trick or treating we headed to back to my parents and played games. It was a great day, and everyone had a lot of fun.

Some ... too much fun.

Sweet Mother of Technology...

2008-11-04T17:38:00.000-08:00

The Number One Reason to be Glad that the Election is (Almost) Over:

Not having to watch EVERY SINGLE NEWSCASTER play techno-nerd with the "Election Central"/"Election Headquarters" touch screens and slide-around images. Good gravy. I am really hoping someone cracks and starts drawing happy faces on the screens or calls for a field goal.

Seriously Scary

2008-10-31T07:17:00.000-07:00

This morning, as dawn breaks on this fine, foggy Hallow's Eve, one mother starts upon a frightening mission. It is not for the faint of heart. No ghost, witch or goblin could possibly instill terror quite like this endeavor.

*Cueing the horror music*

Wheee

WHEEE

WHEEEE!!!

Parent-teacher conference with Grace's teacher.

*SHRIEK*!!!!

Stuff Making Me Happy

2008-10-22T20:08:00.001-07:00

1. Matt just fixed our washer. I am happy that there will be no more sopping up water with towels after each load.

2. Jake is having a pumpkin decorating contest at school. Happy that he drew an intricate diagram, mapping out how we will turn the pumpkin into Super Mario.

3. Grace had five good days of preschool in a row. (Trust me ... a celebratory moment...) Happy that Matt is taking her to donuts in the morning for a special date.

4. It's almost costume time. Happy that Nathan will be the cutest UPS man ever.

5. I bought some cheap clip frames at Ikea. A two pack of 9x9s for $4.99! I am happy about Ikea. And I am even more happy that the pictures I printed for the frames came out great, and I think it will look so cool on our wall.

6. Cute stegosaurus beanie = happy.

7. Tomorrow I have a photo shoot with my good friend's kids. We are going to a *top secret* new location, so I am happy about trying new stuff. And happy that their mom won't care at all if I blow it because she is such a good friend.

8. I am happy that after a few too many not happy days, we are on a happier track.

9. Happy that I maybe just used the word "happy" and its relative words (i.e. happier, happiest) more than any other blogger in just one blog post.

10. (To provide finality.) Please do a google image search for "no ankles" and be happy that your feet do not show up first.

Have a happy day!

Sharing His Message

2008-10-15T05:32:00.000-07:00

A few days ago, Jake's Sunday school class was taught about casting off laziness and working hard. When he emerged from class, Jake thrust a thin packet of worksheets at me before running off to play with his friends. I flipped through the completed work and stopped when I came to a page titled "Things I Want to Work Hard at When I Grow Up." Below that are several pictures of various occupations. It looks like this:

The kids could circle the picture that best suited them. Like if they want to be a soldier, a baker, policeman or Abraham Lincoln, they would circle the matching image.

So, imagine my pride when I noticed that Jake had circled that he wanted to be a missionary when he grew up.

Who knew? I honestly got a little chill thinking that Jake, at the tender age of seven, already feels compelled to share his love for God. I thought about him living off in foreign lands, sharing the gospel and helping the needy. He will build schools and hospitals, cradle orphans and care for the elderly, all in the name of God. My boy. The missionary.

I went to show one of my friends the paper. "Look at this," I said, chest puffy with pride. Suddenly I am Elizabeth, awaiting the delivery of John the Baptist. "Jake wants to be a missionary!" The look on her face told me she had doubts, but that's okay. Jake will probably be running the church upon his return from far off lands, and we'll see if he allows any of her old lady hymns to be played.

Minutes later, we packed the kids in the van, and I excitedly turned to Jake and said, "Jake! I did not know you were interested in serving on missions when you grow up? What made you decide that?"

Correct answer: "I felt led by the Holy Spirit."

Jake's answer: "Yeah (shrugging, and staring out the window) ... well, they didn't have video game maker on there, so I just thought that going on secret missions sounded good. I think being a spy would be kinda cool." At which point he formed his sweet orphan-cradling hands into a makeshift machine gun and started blasting his little sister.

Heaven help us.

Total Madness

2008-10-10T08:06:00.000-07:00

"Mom."

"What?"

"Mrs. H. (Jake's math teacher) said that she is voting for Obama."

"What?"

"Yeah, she said that she was voting for Hilary, but since she is not running anymore, she is going to vote for Obama."

"She told you who she is voting for?"

"Yeah. She said that some people don't like to talk about that, but because she is nice she would tell us. She is voting for Obama."

Apparently all the kids started shouting out, "My dad is voting for Obama too!" and it turned into an Obama-fest in the classroom.

I don't really want to get all political here, but the fact that a so-called professional educator is sharing her political beliefs with a room full of seven year olds is outrageous to me. What is happening here? How are kids with parents who are NOT voting for Obama (and I know there was at least one...) supposed to feel when all of their friends are chanting "Obama!" Sheepish? Embarrassed? Maybe they will join in, since he is such a rock star, and everyone else is doing it ... sound familiar? I would feel the same way whether she was voting for McCain, Nader, Kermit, whatever. It is not her place to be sharing that information with her students.

And, since I am all fired up and probably pissing people off already, if I have to hear Whoopi Goldberg on the View say one more time, "We need to help Main Street! Where is their bailout money?!" I am going to smash a brick through the t.v. screen. You want to give money to Main Street, Whoopi? Well, guess what, THEY ALREADY DID. How the heck do you think we got here?! They gave money to main street, A LOT OF MONEY, and everybody blew it. We bought cars, boats, redid our homes that we couldn't really afford, and burned through our credit cards. THEY GAVE US MONEY AND WE SPENT IT POORLY. So, sure, take my tax dollars and help everybody out. I am so glad that Matt and I decided to stay in our small two bedroom apartment with our three kids, instead of buying a house before we could afford it. I am so glad we made that choice, and just tickled about giving some of Matt's hard earned money to help out people living in McMansions they can't afford.

And, gee, I sure hope Washingon can restore "confidency" in our markets. George, please go back to the ranch and talk to your horses who might speak your language.

Ha-ppy Friday!

Mom of The Year Strikes Again

2008-10-06T08:36:00.000-07:00

My mom bought the kids a bunch of clothes on a recent trip to Vegas with my dad. Well, yesterday was school picture day for Grace, so I dolled her up in some of her new threads, and took a picture to send my mom.

My sweet girl:

Matt called me from the school, during drop off. "Hey, did you put Grace's shoes on this morning?"

"Yeah, why?"

Oh. Oops.

And here is Grace during a talent show in her room. An amazing show, if I do say so myself. This is one of my favorite segments of the show: The Magic Trick ...

Happy October

2008-10-01T22:00:00.001-07:00

We are getting ready for a frightful month.

Framed these with cheap, matted black frames from WalMart. Hung them up with spooky Martha Stewart spiders crawling about them ...

Please go to Barnes and Noble and buy/read-in-the-store-and-them-sheepishly-put-back-on-the-shelf-because-you-are-not-paying-$14.99-for-it: Good Night Goon. Adorable parody of Goodnight Moon. The kids loved it.

What is your daughter going to be for Halloween? A fairy? A princess? A cheerleader? How sweet...

You know what my daughter is going to be for Halloween? Here's a hint: He is electric type and has a killer thunder bolt attack...

* sigh *

Somebody Call Mike Rowe

2008-09-27T09:35:00.000-07:00

The other day I took the kids to a nearby grassy meadow (or perhaps a hollow tree - quick, name the movie!) for some picture taking. We parked the car and started trekking to the field, when Jake asked, "Mom, do you want to be a photographer?"

"Maybe when I grow up," I laughed. "Right now it is just fun to have a hobby and learn new stuff." As in, a hobby different than diaper changing and dish cleaning.

"Yeah," Jake replied. "Being a photographer is, like, one of the hardest jobs I think."

"Really?"

"Yeah! You always have to find the good light." How funny that when I say Clean your room! he cannot hear me, but when I am talking to Matt in another room, he is apparently listening intently.

"That's true."

"I think being a photographer is like, number four on the hardest jobs. Of ten."

"What is number one?"

"Well, you know how they have horse races?"

"Mmm hmm."

"Well, the guy who says 'take your mark' and then waves the flag for the horses to go, THAT is like the hardest job! I mean, he could totally get run over and killed by the horses!"

Err. Huh?

"That is for sure the number one hardest job!" he concluded.

You can see their pictures over here...

and p.s. the movie is Enchanted. :)

Party Time

2008-09-26T08:51:00.001-07:00

You know those crazy people who throw obnoxious first birthday parties? Inviting a gazillion people, spending a mazillion dollars, all for a party that the kid will never remember?

Hi there! We are them.

Nathan's first birthday party was last weekend and, who-eee, I am relieved it is over. Planning the party is kind of fun for me; all these neat ideas and visions of children laughing and playing while the adults engage in fun conversation a la Martha Stewart Kids Magazine. Then the day of the party hits, and I turn into a crazed lunatic, cussing out vinyl table cloths and yelling things like, "Matt! If you don't put that ice in the cooler right now, I will rip your head off!"

It's all about family fun memories, folks.

Thankfully, as friends and family began showing up, I was able to relax (a little) and enjoy the afternoon.

The party had a car theme. We wanted it to be something Nathan likes, so it was either eating soil, clearing out cabinets, or cars. I thought it would be fun to have a little craft for the kids to do, so we bought these little wooden cars for them to decorate.

Christie's Mom trumped my idea, by suggesting that Christie's Dad build a race track that the kids could whizz their cars down. He did a great job. And Matt totally did not break the track an hour before the party, and I was absolutely not ripping my hair out, and my dad and uncle did not have to spend an hour of the party hammering it back together while I greeted people and said, "It is so good to see you!' HAMMER, HAMMER, HAMMER!

It was all easy as a breeze! And, no, the irony on my dad's shirt was not lost on me.

All the track stress was alleviated, though, when we watched the kids having so much fun racing their cars. Some of them were really into it.

And look at the cute little bunny that strategically placed himself in front of my daughter's crotch. I love nature.

As I was looking at the pictures, I began laughing because, of all the kids at the party - rough and tumble boys and all - the child who was most enthralled with the race track was pint-sized-petite-and-all-things-girly Makena (above, left). She is in almost every shot with the track, staring intently at the finish line.

"My cuteness will distract them as I snag, not one, but TWO race cars ... hee heee heeeee!!!"

Some of the more sophisticated attendees preferred gumming their cars.

Some kids played baseball; the sport of American Youth! ... And not youth ...

Whoo, good thing he used the tee!

Next came the Let's Watch the Baby Eat His First Cake Even Though His Mom Has Been Giving Him Cake Since Six Months of Age Moment.

Mostly, Nathan just looked from eager face to eager face, sometimes leaning in to the cake as though he was going to take a bite, but then taunting us by leaning back again. This went on for a good few minutes. In fact, I think I heard someone shout out, "Just eat the cake dagnabit!!!" Or maybe that the voices in my head. Anyway, he finally he dug in, and it was very cute.

But, I guess he doesn't like Costco cupcakes.

Lastly came the presents. I have a lot of pictures of him opening his presents, and they are all a variation of this...

Note to self: On the next kid's birthday party, when asked, "What do they want for their birthday?" do not give the same answer to EVERY person coming to the party. Let's just say that Nathan has quite a collection of cars and trucks. Which is actually great, because he really does play with them. When Grace is not hogging them all, and leaving her dolls and princess dresses to rot in a dark dusty corner.

I hope everyone had fun at the party. It really was fun to see everyone and share in the celebration.

I'm Tired Of Looking at the Last Picture...

2008-09-24T13:55:00.001-07:00

so here is one from Nathan's birthday party. I am thinking that frosting is the new foundation.

Bathtime

2008-09-16T20:47:00.001-07:00

If I were a chimp baby ... performed by Nathan.

My Achy Breaky Heart

2008-09-11T08:59:00.001-07:00

One short year ago...

I can't think of much to write because every time I do, these pesky little pools fill my eyes and blur the keyboard.

Thank you, God, for this beautiful boy. He is JOY rolled up into a squishy, snugly, smiley, little rough and tumble boy. I love him so much.

Happy birthday, Nathan!

My Other Blog Where I am IN NO WAY Pretending to be a Photographer

2008-09-10T13:28:00.000-07:00

I just like posting big pictures, and I can't figure out how to do it on this blog, so I'm putting them HERE now.

I am totally NOT trying to be Anne Geddes.

I mean, maybe ... like, a little bit ... just sometimes.

WHY, WHY oh WHY can I not be Anne Geddes and rock the Canon with perfect exposure and composition?!

(P.S. Dear Robyn, thank you for sending over your friends so they can read about the catalog jammed in my teeth. Your friend who would show you more mercy, Christie)

My White Trash America Membership Card Should Be Arriving Shortly

2008-09-05T15:05:00.000-07:00

I had to go to the dentist last week.

While in Big Bear over Labor Day weekend, we feasted on many good meals. After one such meal, I could feel a wad of food stuck in between two of my teeth. One of these teeth is capped by a crown that does not fit properly, leaving space between the crown and my gum. The food wad started to really irritate my gums. I did not pack floss, and Matt's mom had retired to her bedroom for the night; I didn't want to bother her to ask for some.

Instead, I resorted to my classy, elegant family training, and ripped the corner off of a nearby sturdy magazine cover (a Southern Living catalog, to be exact). Magazine Floss, have you tried it? Every magazine my mom passes down to me is laden with those little white subscription cards ... with one corner ripped off. My dad is a master magazine flosser. (Please note that Christie's Mom does not use magazine pages to floss her teeth. Perhaps her Ralphs Club Card, but I have not seen her use magazines.) Interestingly, Matt has also taken up magazine flossing, happy to carry on the tradition and heritage of his elders.

Back to the food wad. I took the piece of magazine and crammed it in between my teeth, anxious to relieve my throbbing gums. I wiggled it a bit and started to pull it out of my mouth, but all I heard was "rrrrriiiippppp." I glanced down at the paper, and it was torn in half.

A large chunk of Southern Living at Home was lodged between my teeth. With the pork tenderloin.

Going from bad to worse, Matt finally went into his mom's room to hunt down some dental floss (you know, the real stuff...), but as I jammed it between my teeth, the paper just became more and more stuck up in my gums. And it was wrapping itself around the gap between my crown and my gum. I could NOT get the stupid paper out of my mouth.

Let me paint an illustration for you. Here I am, a 28 year old mother of three, standing in a bathroom with a Cover Girl True Beige compact shoved in my mouth, using the mirror and a pair of tweezers in an industrious effort to remove a catalog cover from my teeth.

I am so sure that this exact thing happened to Jackie O. at some point.

Needless to say, my efforts were fruitless, and a trip to the dentist was necessary. (Might I point out that going to our dentist is actually quite enjoyable. All movies and vibrating chairs and such. Compared to the screaming, crying and pooping going on here, it is like a trip to the day spa!). He removed the catalog from my teeth and patched up a nearby filling, I think simply to make the whole trip NOT about taking paper out of my teeth.

And then I asked him if his wife would be interested in purchasing some lovely products from Southern Living at Home; I had the catalog quite handy (as in, wadded up on his stainless steel tool tray) and I just know she would love some Parisian Luminaries!

(Just kidding. I did not do that. I was too engrossed in the feature film and enjoying my massage chair. And I couldn't wait to hightail my humiliated gums out of there. )

School Days! School Days! A Three Hour Break For Mom is Cool Days!

2008-09-04T05:30:00.000-07:00

Mary Janes and ruffle socks?

Check.

Hair Bows to match your jumper?

Check.

My Little Pony backpack, with actual hair, that is almost the size of your body?

Check.

Grace started preschool on Wednesday.

I know. The cuteness blinded me too, your eyes will recover.

She was SO excited, and has repeated many times since starting, "I can't believe I go to school now!" Here she is getting in the car...

And, oh dear, here she is 2 minutes later, thinking we went the wrong way to school, and now, "We can NEVER go to school!!! Never ever ever! Waaaaaaa!"

Make it stop, mommy, make it stop...

Upon arrival, Grace made friends with a little girl who had the same MLP backpack! The girl was different, somehow, but we are all about diversity.

Then she started up a game of tag ... with a boy. At least it was not the game of Kissy Boy that I totally never played every single day at Kindercare.

When we were finally allowed to enter the classroom, Grace couldn't wait to check out every activity available. She painted, colored, played puppets, and finally landed in the "kitchen" on the phone.

"Oh, Jimmy, your so silly! It was just a game of tag! Of course I am not going to play Play Dough with him too!"

"So your concerns are longer snack time and one more round of "Open, Shut Them?" Uh-huh ... uh-huh. So I have your vote for Pre-school Student Council?"

I am so excited for Grace. She is definitely the social butterfly of the family and I just know that she will continue to love school.

And God bless the brave, brave woman that is her teacher.

Big Bear

2008-09-03T05:23:00.000-07:00

We are really lucky that Matt's parents have a great home in Big Bear. They live there year round, and we try to get up as much as possible. It is almost as if, immediately upon crossing the lake dam, all the emails I need to respond to, the phone calls I need to return, the laundry that is piling up - all of those are kind of left behind, and we are all happily forced to relax.

Last weekend was no exception. We had a great time with Matt's mom (dad was out of town). A little rundown of our trip...

This is where we get to stay. I would like to brag, on behalf of my in laws, that the place is ginormous and beautiful. It is like our own personal lodge.

This is the view from their upper deck. When you are washing dishes in the kitchen, you can watch skiers whizz down the mountain. Very pretty.

The kids gardened with Grandma. More like, they dug up her flowers, but she didn't mind.

We got jiggy with it by working on puzzles. I love puzzles. We also played lots of card games.

Grace was really into bird watching. She kept her bird manual in a clever place - her shirt. One morning, she woke me up by shouting, "Mommy!!! I saw a bird, and he had red cheeks, because he is in loooo-oooove."

We took the kids to the Big Bear zoo. It was fun to watch Nathan get all excited when something in a cage moved. Grace had a mini meltdown when we told her that, no, she cannot have an arctic fox for her birthday.

Of course, no trip to Big Bear is complete without a stop to their famous shopping plaza ...

K Mart. I miss you, Martha Stewart Everyday home stuff.

The trip was the perfect way to cap off our summer. Now we're ready for a fresh school year - here's to the bon bons and dvr-ed Oprah episodes to come!

My Heart

2008-08-28T20:23:00.001-07:00

This boy. You can't know him, and not love him.

Redemption

2008-08-27T07:49:00.000-07:00

Last night I was doing laundry and Grace sauntered into the hallway and flung her arms around my legs. I knelt down and loved on her, and then she said, "Mommy, I have something for you. Follow me."

She led me down the hall, through my bedroom and into the bathroom. With a swipe of her hand, she knocked over a glass vase on the counter, and pulled out the dusty fake hydrangeas that occupy the vase.

"These are for you."

Who needs dozens of roses or lilies, when you can receive dusty, curiously blue fake hydrangeas from the most beautiful four year old in the world (said with no bias, of course).

A Picture is Worth ... a Spanking

2008-08-25T17:33:00.000-07:00

We heard screaming from the kids room yesterday and ran in to find Jake in tears (mostly crocodile...) and a guilty look on Grace's face.

"What happened?" I asked.

"Well, mom, well, well, umm, mom." Grace stammered. "I know. I will draw a picture to show you what happened."

Normally I am not a negotiator during punishment sentencing (shaddup, Mom) but I had to see where this was going.

Grace began drawing and, as she drew, she provided us with commentary on what went down.

I think she will be a courtroom illustrator, or a police sketch artist. Or a boxer.

The Hernia

2008-08-23T06:33:00.000-07:00

On Thursday we took Jake to the local children's hospital to have hernia repair surgery. One day he will kill me for posting pictures of him in the colorful teddy bear hospital gown, but until then...

We arrived at the hospital to check in, and Jake's instinctive video game radar honed him in on the plethora of screens and controls located nearby.

I think it is so nice that they provide something for the children to do while they await surgery. I mean, they must be somewhat nervous and afraid, and it is probably a comfort to these little ones to be able to fill the pre-op time.

{sigh}

Jake was so brave. I could tell that he was nervous, but he put up a good front. The nurses gave him a "magical juice" that made him kinda loopy before they wheeled him into the OR. One nurse said, "Here we go. We're gonna wheel you out now, like on a roller coaster, okay?"

They started pushing the bed and Jake lifted his hands and said, "Whee ---eee ---eee..." The magical juice made him sound like a balloon slowly deflating. We were cracking up. (Okay, and then I started crying, and could only be consoled by eating a lot at the cafeteria.)

After surgery, which went longer than we expected, the doctor came out, all in his scrubs and wearing his little surgery cap. It was kind of like on ER or Grey's Anatomy, and for a sec I thought they were going to tell me that his arm fell off during surgery, or that they found alien blood in his body, or, worse, that they could tell how many video games he had played this summer. It was an intense moment. The doctor told us that Jake's hernia was much, much bigger than they had originally thought, and that he had to use a different techniques on him than most. You know, that's just how we do it around here. Go big or go home.

And really, it hasn't been that much video game time, okay?

E.T. Phooooone hoooome.

"Dude, I totally couldn't beat that game in the waiting room."

"It's okay, Dad. Maybe next time."

The nurses were so impressed with Jake's good manners, that they presented him with a cute teddy bear. Bernia the Hernia Bear.

Jake is feeling much better now. It was touch and go there for a while; we were on pins and needles.

Not really. I just wanted to say, "touch and go" and "pins and needles." It sounds exciting. Jake is totally fine, and back to tormenting his sister (who, of course wants to have surgery now, so she can get a bear) and rolling his sweet brown eyes at me. Hernia free.

Counting My Blessings

2008-08-19T20:24:00.000-07:00

One, two, three, four, five, six, seven, eight, nine, ten...

times three.

I took the kids to the park early yesterday morning, hoping to miss the heat. Not only did we miss the heat, but we also missed all the people, as we were the only ones there for a long time. It was actually really nice. Jake and Grace can be so cute together, making plans to build luxurious snail homes and exploring the dangerous and mysterious thicket of bushes near the swings.

Don't even get me started on this guy...

My camera was all barking and nipping my heels before we left, so I let her tag along.

I don't care if you are seven and a half, you are still stinking adorable.

Jake actually told me they should make an Olympic sport out of swing jumping. Why not? They have ping pong. Excuse me, I mean table tennis.

Mr. Serious.

That's better.

Just don't push him too high, or he gets worried. Also, don't say "Wheeee!" in too screechy and high pitched of a voice, or he will furrow his brow and think you need help.

Hmmm. Grace is practicing her sultry movie star eyes. Already.

Nathan doesn't like the sand too much.

He curled his toes and fingers and mumbled, "Eh ... eh ...eh ..." the whole time. All the while looking totally annoyed.

Grace likes the sand though. She thinks she is Paula Deen, making butter cake, butter soup, butter stew, and whatever else Paula makes.

(Also, I am not kidding. The kids LOVE cooking shows especially Grace. When they see a cookbook at the store, they yell, "Look it's Paula! Look, it's Rachel Ray! And look! It's ... that lady!" And it is poor Ina Garten, but for the longest time I thought her name was Contessa, because it is the name of her show. Barefoot Contessa. Totally confusing. Anyway...)

Jake likes to find snails, and make homes for them.

"Nathan, sweet brother, look at this marvelous creation, a snail. So peaceful, taking life one slimy scoot at a time, a lesson to all of us, if you ask me ..."

"Now eat it!!!"

By the way, my mom had to come pick me up early from Kindercare when I was five because I tricked a three year old into eating snails on the playground. It is genetic.

Somebody's having hernia surgery tomorrow. But I won't say who, they might get embarrassed.

Six Years

2008-08-16T07:21:00.000-07:00

(Oh, the emotion. What a beautiful time that was ... a time when I had only one chin and my arms did not look like hippo stumps. And, oh yeah, we got married.)

Marriage. Isn't it funny that it is so far from how you pictured it when you were a hopelessly romantic teen poet, like myself? It is better. More fun, more fulfilling, more rewarding, more challenging, more, more and more everything. Don't get me wrong, we fight. We sigh loudly enough for the other to hear, we mumble and roll our eyes at each other. We even scream at each other about our egos in the Target parking lot (okay, so that was only me, but who's keeping score?). But rarely does 45 minutes go by before we are laughing and apologizing (okay, me again) and realizing how blessed we are to have each other. And I am even thankful that we tiff, because if we didn't it would mean one of us is a doormat, and the biggest insult to me would be to be that naggy wife whose husband is sighing, "Yes, dear," all day long.

Is it bad to say that the last six years have felt like sixteen? Or sixty? Because I don't mean that they have been so burdensome and grueling, and, good golly, I can't imagine another six. These years have seemed longer because I simply cannot think of my life without Matt. It is like he has always been there. He is the best thing in my life.

Six years ago we vowed to make a life together. It is better than I ever could have imagined it being. Not to mention, everyday I get to wake up and see this awesome hunkiness of a man ...

And, to be fair, he got this ...

Making his dreams come true. One scoop at a time.

Wasn't That Suspenseful???

2008-08-08T07:01:00.000-07:00

Three ~~liars~~ people won the big giveaway! Mom, I will give you your prize when you babysit. And I will bring the complete first season of Yo Gabba Gabba! since you like it so much. Robyn, I will switch yours out for blue sour bottles. And Kassie, I will try to battle through the oxen, chickens and sheep in your sister's apartment, and ravage through her pantry to find the raw organic chocolate chard of which you speak. If I don't make it out, I got lost in the wheat field on the patio.

I have been so busy ~~huddling in a dark corner, crying and counting down the days til school starts~~ having special time with the children. Summer highlights to come...

"How many hairs has mom ripped out today?"

"I think 95."

"We can do better. Must do better..."

FAVORITE THING GIVEAWAY!!!!

2008-08-01T08:21:00.000-07:00

Oh, yes, I am doing a FAVORITE THING GIVEAWAY!!!

(This is where I imagine women screaming and crying and praising God. Like on Oprah.)

Here are the rules.

1. Watch this video.

2. What are you doing? Watch it.

3. If you are able to make it through the day WITHOUT, AT ANY POINT, SINGING (aloud or in your head), "Poop in the potty, poop goes in the potty." Leave me a comment. You win!

4. I will mail all lucky winners THE PRIZE from my AMAZING FAVORITE THING GIVEAWAY!!!

One crisp bag of Peanut M&Ms!

(Aaaaaaaahhhhh! Eeeeeeee! Amen! Take that, Pioneer Woman!)

And Then I Googled "Dope Pipe"

2008-07-31T07:26:00.000-07:00

This is how we do handiwork in the Hobson House. (It strikes me as funny that my blog is called Hobson House, for alliteration purposes, but we are actually lacking a house, and it is something I pine for day in and day out. Anyway...) Handiwork goes like this:

Install/Put item together. Hum at your genius.
Test item.
Use mild profanity.
If working as a team, sigh loudly and often, mumble something about how team member blew it.
Find Directions
Read Directions
Uninstall/take item apart
Reinstall/put item back together again

This is what happens EVERY time we have a project. It's just how we roll. (Maybe I will change my blog to be titled "How We Roll".)

Yesterday I bought a new shower head and I wanted to impress Matt by having it installed and ready for him when he got home from work. Because I know what my man wants at the end of a long tiresome day at work. And it is a newly installed showerhead.

I ripped open the package, throwing those pesky directions on the floor, and began screwing and unscrewing pipes and such. When it appeared as though the shower head was installed, I turned on the water only to, of course, be besieged by sprays and squirts coming at me from fifty directions. This cycle was played over and over about five times, when I finally decided to read the - duh duh DUH! - directions.

The directions clarified that I needed to put pipe tape over the grooves on the shower pipe before installing the head. Silly me.

I did as told, and voila. The showerhead works.

But something was disturbing me. Something in the directions.

Call me crazy, but are they telling me not to use dope?! Dope in a jar, no less? Or, worse, are they saying, "Don't be a dope! In a jar." This dope was really puzzling me. I couldn't wait for Matt to get home so I could show him how absurd these dopey directions were. How insulting and inappropriate, the dope in a jar. We would laugh, and he would say, "I can't believe that dope!" and I would say, "I know, right?! Dope?"

When Matt arrived home I let him settle in, then approached him with the directions. "Look at this. Do you notice anything?"

"Oh. Did you forget the tape?" he chuckled.

"Not that. Look at this!" I replied, pointing to the jar of dope. "What is that? Are they telling me not to be a dope? Or not to smoke dope? And since when does dope come in a jar?" (Not that I have ever seen dope, not in a jar, either ... I am merely postulating that it is usually not served in a jar.)

"Are you serious? Dope is like caulk (don't get me started on this one, either; plumbers have a nasty sense of humor). You put it on the pipes to keep them sealed."

"....oh."

How deflating. Here I was, ready to mail it to Jay Leno's Headlines, and it turns out that I actually am ... a dope. In a jar, maybe. At least the showerhead works great. And I didn't do dope while installing it.

Robyn, I Have Found the Motherland

2008-07-29T06:49:00.000-07:00

I watched Charlie and the Chocolate Factory a lot as a kid. A LOT (should that have told us something...?). Anyway, I always wished that their was a candy factory near us, with lickable wallpaper and a chocolate river. (These days I wish more for the one with Johnny Depp in it, too, but that is beside the point.)

Well, I found a little sugar haven that comes pretty close to Wonka's. Powell's Sweet Shoppe. They just opened one near us, and I had so much fun taking the kids. They have every candy ever made in stock. Even candy from the covered wagon days of Christie's Mom's childhood! Powell's has tons of lollipops, rows and rows of jelly beans, baskets of salt water taffy, and a gelato bar, if you want a frosty treat. There is a t.v. playing - what else? - Charlie and the Chocolate Factory, with little movie seats in which to sit and watch.

Seriously, go. Go and take the kids. (And the camera. So people can look at you funny when you are photographing pieces of candy.)

It's a fun little shop, and did I mention? There's CANDY.

Grace and the Great Wall of Pez.

Jake chose a Wonka Bar. It was gooooood.

Somebody else thought it was gooooood, too.

Mamma Mia!

2008-07-25T23:00:00.001-07:00

My mom and I just got back from seeing Mamma Mia. It was so fun, and I think ABBA is my new favorite band. Their songs are so upbeat and fun. I want to be the Dancing Queen, young and sweet, only seventeen. In fact, I think I want to be in ABBA. And why not include my mom, dad, and Matt?

Oh Sanity, Where Art Thou?

2008-07-23T19:52:00.000-07:00

(Can I begin by saying how much I love my children. I love them. I laugh with them, I play with them, I do fun things with them, I look at them when they are sleeping and think they look like little angels. Sometimes I tear up watching their cute little faces. We watch movies together, I teach them things, read them books, we cook together, I encourage their hobbies, etc., etc. I love them very very much.

Thank you. We will now return to your normally scheduled reading.)

I AM GOING MAD.

It is a different atmosphere with all of my little angels home all day long. Indeed, since a certain seven year old, who shall remain nameless (but it rhymes with ache...as in my head) returned to the roost after spending long, arduous days in the First Grade, things have been more difficult. You mean, I CAN'T play Super Smash Bros. for six straight hours?! What do you mean I am not watching 432 hours of Avatar: The Last Air Bender? Did you just say you want me to clean the toilet?! What is this, the State Penn?! In an effort to fill his time, this certain young man has taken up a new hobby. Debate.

Every 14 minutes and 29 seconds a new fight erupts. I had that first! You cheated, you can't climb up the slide on Chutes and Ladders! I said I was going to be Pikachu, you have to be Chimchar! She got more broccoli than me! Oh, wait, nevermind!

Jake is not alone in this, however. Yesterday Grace was yelling at Jake, and I had to laugh when I heard her say, "I am NEVER playing with you AGAIN! I am NEVER playing with you again UNTIL MIDNIGHT!"

Our fun summer (yippee!) is even darker when I look at other blogs and get a case of serious blenvy. You know, blog envy. Oh, you do know, don't you? Blenvy seems to hit the hardest in the summer when it appears as though every other family in the blogger world is in Italy, France, Hawaii or Magical Fun Land. Every blog is laden with pictures of things like...

We had so much fun at the beach! Look closely at this picture and you can see the pod of sweet dolphins who swam over to us and offered rides under the beautiful sunset.

We went to the beach, too. Wanna see our pictures? Oh, sorry, there are none. Nathan was screaming like a wild banshee the entire time and I had to chase Grace up and down the coast. Everyone had sand in painful places, and I had to lug 2 tons of beach gear back to the car up a hill comparable to, say, Mount Kilimanjaro. Aloha!

Here are some of our fun summer pictures:

Ahhhh, summertime and the livin's easy!

Yesterday I went to Target and was granted a small beacon of hope. As I heaved boxes of diapers and goldfish into the shopping cart, suddenly a heavenly host began blaring trumpets and singing "Make New Friends but Keep the Old" in the far corner of the store. I followed their melodious tunes, picking up pace through the aisles, and discovered a beautiful sight. Backpacks! Pencils! Crayons! Glue Sticks! And big signs beaming "Back to School!" Oh yes, there is hope. I can make it through. Soon enough, I will be dropping the fight club members off at school, waving, "Have a great day!" before I race home to watch the View and eat bon bons.

And do you know what I will also do on that first day of school? Cry. Be sad. And miss my two oldest who aren't with me all day anymore.

(And then I will probably put Nathan down for a nap and go back to my bon bons.)

Yumm, I Love Him

2008-07-23T07:55:00.001-07:00

Wheee! Bubbles!

2008-07-21T11:25:00.000-07:00

The kids were playing with some awesome cheap bubble guns over the weekend, and I loved these pictures of Jake and the bubbles...

(How cool is that?)

Bear: It's What's For Dinner

2008-07-18T18:49:00.000-07:00

I opened the fridge a couple of hours ago, trying to scrounge up something for dinner. I had trouble deciding between chicken tacos, meatloaf or sauteed GloBear.

Writer's Block

2008-07-18T07:21:00.001-07:00

I can't think of anything to blog about. We have been really busy this week with VBS camp at our church. I am Grace's group leader, so that has been really fun. We've also been doing normal summer stuff, like the library, pool and beach, but I have been especially loving any time that we can just hang in at home, crank on the air, and lay around playing legos.

Sister Melanie

2008-07-10T08:00:00.000-07:00

Last night I went to a church activity with my friend Alicia, who is Mormon. (Is it PC to say Mormon or LDS, I never know.) Any how, I am not Mormlds, but I have a lot of friends who are and our family has crashed many of their get togethers, because whoo-ee those Mormons know how to party and cook good food.

Last night was like a girls night that involved a craft; making wooden signs to hang in your home. I have coveted these signs at many a friend's home, and was excited about having one for ours.

I was a little bit nervous, because, believe it or not, I am kind of shy, and meeting new people is intimidating to me.

I need not have feared, however, because clearly I am the epitome of social grace and elegance. To demonstrate, let me share with you the dialogue that ensued after I was introduced to the first of Alicia's friends. Like five minutes into the evening. It was something like this...

Alicia, to me: "I want you to meet my friend..."

M, the super nice friend: "Hi! I'm Melanie, what's your name?"

Me: "Melanie."

Ummm, maybe you are looking at this blog for the first time, but my name is not Melanie. It's Christie.

Alicia kind of looked at me like, huh? I telepathically read her thoughts that were, "Christie, you should not have been drinking before coming to Mormlds craft night." (Which I wasn't by the way. Just diet coke. Caffeine free.)

Then she said, "Errr, Christie ...?"

Melanie was so sweet, she said, "Oh your name is Christie?" At that point I did not know my name anymore, nor did I care, I felt like may face was melting off, it was so hot. I am not always good with names, but I should be able to remember my own. This whole exchange was bad enough, but come to find out...

Her name is not Melanie. It's Mandy. So she probably has no idea where I pulled Melanie out of, or why I cannot seem to remember my own name.

See? I'm all about social propriety and grace.

And if I crash your party, you can call me whatever you want to, too.

Buddy Boy

2008-07-09T06:37:00.000-07:00

Nathan is such a funny little guy, I just love him to pieces. (Grace calls him Buddy Boy, hence the title.) He has been doing so many new things lately, I can't believe how fast babies pick things up. A little journaling of his latest accomplishments ...

1. Crawling. Nate has been on the move for about a month now. It is so cute to see him so determined to get something. His little face looks so serious as he races over to the potted plants so he can eat the soil and throw it all over the floor. We made him some Ghetto Legs (a Baby Legs rip-off) by cutting some $2 socks and slipping them over his poor chapped knees. They look like Baby Chaps. Matt made a weird face when he saw them, concerned about his son's manliness, but at least his knees are less red.

2. Nathan knows the words NO and NAUGHTY. And he finds them to be delightfully funny. Disciplinary hand slapping and "flicking" is also hilarious. When he wants to tell you that he is done with a jar of baby food, he with stick his arm straight out and waves it violently back and forth. This causes the baby food to fly all over the carpet and walls. I say firmly, "No." and that causes faster and more violent hand waving. He looks at me like, "Hey, lady, see this? I'm being Naughty!!! Oh, yeah ... NAUGHTY!!!"

3. Naughtiness aside, Nathan is also very sweet. He has recently learned to wave, and waves at everyone and everything. People usually smile sweetly and wave back at him. He waves again. They wave again. He waves another time, and I want to tell the poor victims of the wave-off that they don't really have to keep waving back at him. It is cute though. He also gives "kissies" by sucking on your face, and if you ask for cuddles, he will bury his head in your shoulder and sigh, "aaaaaaahhhhhhwwwww."

4. Nathan, being a Hobson child, also loves Pokemon, and favors the water and electric type. He likes to carry a squeezy Pikachu around in his mouth while crawling. You're never to young for bizarre anime cartoon battles apparently.

He is 10 months now, and I can't believe it. He is the easiest baby, we got really lucky. I get sad thinking that his birthday is in only 2 months, but it will be fun to see him toddle around and start to talk. I love him so much.

Celebrating 1776 with 1,776 Pictures

2008-07-06T19:47:00.000-07:00

Oh my gosh, we had so much fun on the 4th. My mom and dad went above and beyond the American Grandparent Call of Duty in making sure we all had a good time.

Not only was there a pool set up ...

but the pool was soon filled with colorful plastic balls, that made my new camera lens salivate with excitement ...

"One of these things in not like the others..."

There was delicious tri-tip, smoked for hours by my dad, bbq-er extraordinaire. With all the trimmings, of course.

Christie's Mom (doesn't she look so pretty here?) kept the ~~margaritas~~ Country Time Lemonade a-flowing.

Soon, punch balloons appeared, and everyone punched away, having a grand old time.

Christie's Mom performed the Punch 'n Munch, not pausing the punch while snacking. That takes skill.

Not to be outdone, Matt attempted the Triple Bounce. One balloon in each hand, and another in his teeth.

Yes. I married that man.

Nathan was worried about this.

We had smores...

Unfortunately, Grace, frightened by a terrifying fanged June Bug, screamed shrilly, causing my dad to drop his near golden marshmallows in the fire. So, of course, I took a picture of it, duh. And, of course, I am sharing it with you.

"Dude. Isn't there supposed to be something ON this?!"

And it wouldn't be America, without indulging in even more sugar, so the kids had rocket pops. Nathan was so cute with his, that I took about 87 pictures of him eating it.

Jake, Matt and my Dad headed out to the greenbelt near my parents home, to play ball. There used to be a big tree in this middle of the field. As a child, I always dreamed of hanging a swing from this tree. Soaring through the air, swinging care-free from the limb of nature. I reflected upon this childhood dream, bred in America. And I was pi**ed that I never hung a swing from that stupid tree.

Soon, it was time for fireworks. Since we live in the Land of the Free, but are prohibited from using sparklers, we resorted to a Popper Pack. The kids love throwing them at each other, exactly as it warns NOT to do on the package.

Rambo Grace was oh so excited to blast her brother with the colorful poppers. Grandma helped.

Whoo!

My parents are ridiculously huge fans of the Music Choice channel, Sounds of the Seasons. If I had to hear Lee Greenwood sing about how proud he is to be an American one more time, I was going to keel over. Anyway, we had the front door open, with patriotic music blaring as we pop popped away. It was reminiscent of the Civil War, with all the Dixie tunes playing and poppers firing.

Of course, we didn't want to deprive the kids of witnessing the majesty of real fireworks, so we all hunkered down and oohed and aahed over the beautiful display in the neighboring town of

New York. Courtesy of NBC. In hi-def, no less!

Grace even climbed upon Matt's shoulders to get a better view.

Hope you all had a great 4th too!!!

Sweet Land of Liberty

2008-07-04T06:37:00.000-07:00

Happy 4th! To celebrate this special day, I have invited back the blog's Resident Experts On Life, aka the kids, to share their thoughts on this amazing country in which we live.

JAKE

MOM: Hi Jake.
JAKE: Hey. (shrugging shoulders, smug, 7 going on 17)

M: Jake, why do we celebrate the 4th of July?
J: Because we celebrate America's birthday.

M: What does that mean?
J: When America was free from slavery. I mean England.

M: Why is America different from other countries?
J: America is different because we have good foods and, some other states, they don't and they could starve.

M: What are rights?
J: Things we are allowed to do.

M: Like what?
J: ... go to the grocery store?

M: What is freedom?
J: Freedom means you can be free from slavery.

M: Name three presidents.
J: George Washington, Abraham Lincoln, and ... who was the 100th president?

M: ... That's okay.

M: what is your favorite part of the 4th of July?
J: Throwing those little mini white fireworks at people and seeing them explode on people. Like Grandpa.

(note: this is an annual Kennedy/Hobson 4th tradition. In lieu of fireworks, my mom buys gigantic boxes of "poppers," we all head outside and throw them at each other. And sing "God Bless America.")

M: Do you think George Washington would have liked throwing mini fireworks at people?
J: Mmmmm. Their feet, maybe.

GRACE

"Hmm. Four score and seven years ... no, no, I think that's been done..."

MOMMY: Hi Grace.
GRACE: Are we going to Grandma's now?

M: No. Grace, why do we have the 4th of July?
G: Because we have, like, there's like fireworks and we see fireworks.

M: But why are there fireworks?
G: Because on the 4th of July the fireworks explode.

M: Grace, in what country do we live?
G: ummm, my daddy helps me clean up and we have a nice daddy. (Grace has now teleported back to Father's Day. I take a moment to allow her journey, and then we resume the conversation.)

M: What is a president?
G: A president is like George Washington, but kind of like on a show.

M: What does the American flag look like?
G: Like, it has white, red, stripes and a blue square and a stick that is long. That's what an American flag is.

M: What is freedom?
G: Like, you and the kids were in a cage and somebody got you out and you are free. (At this point in the interview, I ponder whether my daughter knows me better than I think...)

M: Grace, what are rights?
G: Like, I write a little cutie kitty cat.

"Oh, yes I CAN say no to you. It's called the First Amendment!"

M: What is the best part of the 4th of July?
G: Well having fireworks and when we like, when we do marshmallows, fire and sticks.

M: Do you know that it is America's birthday?
G: Yeah, it's America's birthday today, THAT'S FUNNY! Are we going to Grandma's now?

NATHAN

MOMMY: Nathan, why do celebrate the 4th of July?
NATHAN: {waves}

M: Explain Habeas Corpus to me.
N: saaaaaaadaaaaadaaaada

M: Interesting perspective. McCain or Obama?
N: {Smacks food tray.}

M: I see. You're independent.
N: {Shoves apple chunks into ear.}

M: Why are you proud to live in America?
N: {While holding one hand up in the air} bababababa. (It is clear he is reciting the Bill of Rights.)

M: What is your favorite part of the 4th?
N: Hotdogsdadadada. (I am not kidding, he said hot dogs. I have witnesses.)

GOD BLESS AMERICA!

Getting Five Minutes Peace

2008-07-03T13:26:00.000-07:00

Nicest Family Ever

2008-06-29T21:22:00.001-07:00

I had so much fun yesterday taking pics of my friend Jen and her cute family. They are the nicest, most patient people ever. Thanks guys! I have a bazillion more to look at, but here are some of my favorites so far ...

Seven year olds (esp. those that belong to you) make excellent assistants. And they work for milkshakes. And then they will pose like they are working for Hollister.

Call Me Isfuhjuh

2008-06-26T12:02:00.000-07:00

After taking this test, I discovered that I have an ISFJ personality.

I had suspected for quite some time that I might be an isfuhjuh.

Oftentimes, as I pondered life's more pressing questions, I would think to myself, "How have I arrived here? Where am I headed? And could I possibly be an isfuhjuh?"

Indeed, I am.

What does this mean? Well, here are the details as presented to me by the Jung test website ... with some minor edits.

We are lucky that Protectors Hear that? I shall PROTECT you! Except when bees are involved. Or ferris wheels make up as much as ten percent the population I am so unique!, because their primary interest is in the safety and security of those they care about - their family, their circle of friends, their students, their patients, their boss once, my boss walked right into oncoming traffic, and I bravely rescued him. He was six., their fellow-workers, or their employees. Protectors have an extraordinary sense of loyalty and responsibility in their makeup I only use Bare Minerals, and been proving my loyalty to them for months. and seem fulfilled in the degree they can shield others from the dirt I wipe the binky off before I pop it back in the babies mouth and dangers of the world i.e. Webkinz. Speculating and experimenting do not intrigue Protectors, who prefer to make do with time-honored and time-tested products wine dates back to the first grape and procedures rather than change to new i.e. wine coolers. At work Protectors are seldom happy you know, it was kind of a bad day in situations oh where the rules are constantly changing, or where long-established ways of doing things are not respected spanking, yelling, removal of Nintendo DS. For their part, Protectors value tradition, both in the culture and in their family mom loved chips, I love chips. Tradition, heritage, Ruffles. Protectors believe deeply in the stability of social ranking conferred by birth Take that, Ryan!, titles, offices, and credentials. And they cherish family history and enjoy caring for family property, from houses to heirlooms hand me down game boy games.

Wanting to be of service to others out of the kindness of my sweet heart, Protectors find great satisfaction in assisting the downtrodden let's not get nasty, here, and can deal with disability and neediness in others better than any other type. They are not as outgoing and talkative 'scuse me (hahahahahaha!!!) as the Provider Guardians [ESFJs] eesfuhjuhs are so annoying, shaddup already!, and their shyness is often misjudged as stiffness, even coldness a anonymous friend (name rhymes with Hobyn) told me quite plainly she thought I was a (word rhymes with rich) when she first met me. I am so misunderstood, when in truth Protectors are warm-hearted ha! and sympathetic double ha!, giving happily of themselves to those in need final ha!. Their reserve ought really to be seen as an expression of their sincerity and seriousness -oh yes, ahem- of purpose changing poo diapers. The most diligent of all the types, Protectors are willing to work long, hard hours quietly doing all the thankless jobs that others manage to avoid see above reference to poo diapers. Protectors are quite happy working alone that does not bode well for me; three kids does not alone time make; in fact, in positions of authority they may try to do everything themselves rather than direct others to get the job done well, if ya did it right .... Thoroughness and frugality are also virtues for them The Michael's receipt in my purse does not seem to agree with this. When Protectors undertake a task, they will complete it if humanly possible Also, if it is nonhumanly possible. I am that awesome. They also know better than any other type the value of a dollar, and they abhor the squandering or misuse of money Errr. To save, to put something aside against an unpredictable future, to prepare for emergencies I am fully prepared to pack up the kids and head to Christie's Mom's house -these are actions near and dear to the Protector's heart. For all these reasons, Protectors are frequently overworked oh, the humanity, just as they are frequently misunderstood Hobyn? and undervalued Kids? Hear that?. Their contributions, and also their economies, are often taken for granted, and they rarely get the gratitude they deserve. I am framing this and putting it in every room in our home. All four of them.

So, basically, I am the nicest, most giving person in the world. Okay, maybe in our apt. complex.

Famous isfuhjuhs include Mother Teresa and, interestingly, William Shatner.

I am not surprised to hear about my self sacrificing nature, for I am, indeed, my kids mom. I am apparently also my kids dad, because I am married to

an ESTJ, finely represented by Dr. Laura herself.

Really Desperate Actual Housewives Living in Small Apartments in the O.C.

2008-06-25T09:40:00.000-07:00

I found a cool blog with lots of info on things to do with your kids this summer, when they are arguing incessantly and you need to get out before you warrant a call to Child Protective Services.

Just Spotted

And let's have a moment of silence for the death of double coupons at Ralphs. Why, Ralph, why? This, coupled with the Target popcorn combo skyrocketing from $1 to $1.67, is sure to put us in the poorhouse. Or the poor-two-bedroom-apartment, however you want to look at it.

Vacationing ~~on the cheap~~ with the Hobsons:

Sparkling waters in which to splash and play. The sparkle comes from the film of sunscreen floating in the pool, but who cares.

Living in the lap of luxury.

Who needs riches, when you've got style? And sweet potatoes all over your face.

Hey, Hey, it's Magic!

2008-06-24T08:58:00.000-07:00

Grace has a pair of pink sparkly shoes, handed down from a friend, that she insists on wearing EVERY DAY, no matter the occasion. She reminds me that I told her, "Pink goes with everything!" something I probably told her when she was wearing a pink dress, and needed to get her out the door.

As I was flipping through pictures from Saturday, Matt stopped me and said, "Is Grace's foot on fire? What is that?" Lo and behold, it was

the magic of the pink sparkly shoes.

If you click on the picture, you will get a better view of their powers, and you can see poor Grace, after falling for the 722nd time that day, has little tears coming down her face. I believe she is thinking, "There's no place like Sweet Factory, there's no place like Sweet Factory ..."

A Learning Curve

2008-06-22T17:09:00.000-07:00

(This picture has nothing to do with this post. I just like how The Pioneer Woman's Photoshop Actions showed sweet mercy on my forehead. I fess up to vanity, okay?)

I am really reluctant to say that photography is my hobby, because then people might think I should be good at it. But I do love to take pictures, and I have fun editing them, playing with different looks, etc. And I am a little better at taking pictures than I am at knitting.

Friday was exciting for me because we bought our first prime lens. We have a few good zoom lenses, but the maximum aperture on those is about 4.0. Aperture is kind of like how open your lens is. The lower the f-stop, the bigger the opening/aperture (I swear, somebody is messing with our heads to make it opposite like that) and more light enters your camera. (Lenses with bigger apertures are also called fast lenses.) With bigger apertures, you can also get cool shots where one thing is in focus and the rest blurry; which is good when you are shooting your kids and you don't want last night's dishes and the heaps of dirty laundry lying on the floor showing up in the back.

I don't even think I am making sense - lower, higher, bigger, smaller ... we just wanted a lens with a big opening. Small number.

Anyway, a prime lens does not zoom in and out, it just stays at 50mm, 85mm, or whatever, but it is really good and sharp at taking shots at that focal length. Our new lens is a 50mm, 1.8 (that's a lot more light than our 4.6 lenses!). We did a little research, and discovered that this little guy is called "The Nifty Fifty" and the "Plastic Fantastic" because it is dirt cheap (well, for a camera lens anyway) but takes pretty good shots. I think it will be a good learning lens, and then when I become Ansel Adams, we can look at getting some other goodies (like, L lenses, which start at about $1300 - ha!).

I don't know why I am rambling on about this boring stuff, the point of this post was that whoo-wee I have a lot of learning to do! Last night Matt and I took the kids up to this hilltop near our home. There is a beautiful view up there, and we just wanted to play with the camera. "Play with" meaning, take 350 pictures, 30 of which came out decent. And I mean, decent.

I was kind of bummed about how a lot of them came out (did I mention we took over 350?), but I am going to take it in stride and just think of it as a learning experience. Some things worked, some things didn't, and I will know better for next time. (Jen? Did I just see you grab the phone and call Olan Mills?)

Works: The light at sunset.

Doesn't work: The light at sunset on the hottest day of the year blaring on your body, melting your makeup and making your hair matte to your skin in sweat. This kind of lighting gave what I think of as the George Hamilton Effect.

We look like we just emerged from a volcano.

Also in the not working category, the Phantom of the Opera shadow on my face. Sun to the side = not good. Sun behind the photographer = better. Sun at all on a day when it is 926 degrees outside = go home, turn on the a/c, plop on the couch and watch America's Next Top Model reruns.

These are cute of Matt and the kids.

Works: Promising the kids milk shakes if they are good.

Doesn't work: Finally getting the milkshakes an hour and a half past bedtime.

Works: Having your kid take some pictures.

Doesn't work: Having your kid take pictures of your feet when you have chipped nail polish and severe callouses on your feet.

Works: Photoshopping.

Doesn't work: Over-photoshopping. This is a fine line, and I am always nervous about making my pics look overdone. Some pictures are just not salvageable. And sometimes you do too much, and your kid's skin looks like E.T.'s mid-death scene.

I like these.

Always works: Having the old guy jogging by take a picture of your super patient, supportive family. Out of focus or not.

Every Day ...

2008-06-20T09:48:00.000-07:00

... when I do Grace's hair, she cries, moans, gnashes her teeth, runs to the mirrored closet doors in her room, and contemplates how she ended up with a mother who would destroy her good looks with items like bows and ponytail holders.

Oh, the agony.

What is the only acceptable way in which to style her beautiful locks?

You can see that she has been sporting this do from an early age.

Nathan Loves Balloons: A Hidden Picture Game

2008-06-19T08:43:00.000-07:00

Summer Is Upon Us

2008-06-16T07:51:00.000-07:00

How do I know?

Pool time.

Milkshakes and fries. Bathing suits. A lethal combination.

Fun with family.

Sprinklers and hoses.

Kickin' off our shoes.

Hot guys. Obviously.

Happy heat wave!

Daddy. An Interview With the Experts.

2008-06-15T07:05:00.000-07:00

What is your daddy's name?

Jake: Matt.

Grace: The same thing as he said.

What does your daddy look like?

J: A normal Daddy, whadda ya want?

G: Well, like, he's 50 ft tall. And he has blue skin. And he has black hair. And he has brown eyes.

What is his job?

J: UPS.

G: Well, working, going to work. He picks up packages and gives them to his truck.

What does Daddy like to do at home?

J: Likes to play video games pretty much all day.

G: Ummm, he likes to ... just sleep.

Have you ever seen daddy fold laundry?

J: No.

G: Mmm-mmm. (Nods head no. For the record.).

Daddy is really really good at what?

J: His job. Video games.

G: He's really good at hmmmm calling people. Playing video games. Aaaaand, he's good at taking pictures.

How many naps do you think Daddy has taken in the past year?

J: I just say about 5 billion.

G: Like, 9.

What is your favortie thing to do with Daddy?

J: Go to baseball games. Go to the park. Pool. Beach.

G: Like, play with him. I like to eat snacks with him. Ilike to read books.

Daddy makes you laugh when ...?

J: He tickles me. He says funny things too.

G: Well, he tickles me. And he laughs at me, and then I laugh, and then he laughs.

What is Daddy's favorite word?

J: Sweeet.

G: Sweeeeeeeeet.

What is great about Daddy?

J: He's very very nice. He's awesome. Cool. And, umm, spectacular. He's the best dad because he's my dad.

G: Ummm, he makes funny faces and read books.

What is Daddy's favortie sport?

J: Football or baseball.

G: Baseball.

Why did Mommy and Daddy get married?

J: Because you saw him and you liked him. And I think that you stared at him like, "OH! I LOVE YOU!!!"

G: Because you loved him. And you gave him a bouquet.

Do you think it is hard for Daddy to put up with Mommy?

J: Yes. Very hard.
G: Huh?

What else do you want to tell Daddy?

J: I love you. I hope you have a very good Father's Day.

G: On the next Father's Day I want to tell Daddy I want to give him breakfast. And I do not like having sippy cups anymore.

When I Wonder if Grace Will Wear Black Trenchcoats to School and Wield Weapons

2008-06-13T18:37:00.000-07:00

"Mommy, what should I draw?"

"Draw me a picture that shows how you love me."

"Okay."

-doodle, doodle - "Here!"

A. Big, black scary teeth.

B. Blood, of course.

C. "Electrics coming from his bottom." (??!!)

D. Scary black wings.

E. Me.

What Do These Items Have in Common?

2008-06-11T08:54:00.000-07:00

If you said, "Clearly, Christie, those are all instruments of escape," then

YOU WIN!!!

Let me rewind a bit. When Grace moved to a big girl bed, she got into the nasty habit of emerging from her room, on average, 942 times a night. "Can I have water?" "I have to pee." "What are you watching?" "Can I watch with you?" "Let's cuddle." "Do you like green?" "Am I a little bit manipulative, or a lot manipulative?"

We tried many tactics in keeping her confined to her bed, none of which worked. So, Matt and I, like any caring parents wanting nothing but the best for our child, turned the doorknob of the kids room around, placing the lock on the outside, and we locked the kids in their room. Go ahead. Call Child Protective Services. Ten minutes with our kids, and they will be lavishing us with medals and giving us vouchers for a weekends away.

The lock worked beautifully, and leisurely nights of uninterrupted Heroes viewing ensued.

The locked worked beautifully, that is, until today. I had just put Nathan in his crib for a nap, and was talking to my mom on the phone. As we chatted, I grabbed a stack of clothes and walked into the kids room to put them away. Grace followed, closing the door behind her.

"So, I'm free all of July, go ahead and plan the ... oh my gosh. OH MY GOSH. Grace?! Did you lock the door???"

And there we were. Locked in the kids room. Not only was I locked in the kids room, but I was locked in the kids room with ...

Grace. "Mommy! Let's play a game!"

Thus began the fun game of shoving items into the door jamb, hoping to hear the click of the lock unfastening. No Pokemon cards, Spot books, or game pieces did the trick. My mom, after cackling and heaving in throws of laughter on the phone, called the maintenance department of our apartment complex. In the meantime, I called Matt. After he finished his own fit of laughter, he told me to shove a "long metal thing" into the hole on the doorknob. Lacking in "long metal things," I turned instead to the lego box, where I found a lego spear. I wiggled and jiggled that spear like nobody's business, to no avail. The phone rang.

"Hi, -snort, chuckle- Christie?"

"Yes."

"This is -chuckle, snort, snort, chuckle- Carol in the leasing office."

"Uh huh?"

"Maintenance is on the way. HEE HAW HEE HAW!"

Glad that I was making the leasing office's day, I waited patiently while Grace hollered, "Are we gonna play this game or what?!!!" Then the phone rang again.

"Hi, this is Joey in maintenance. Are they there yet?"

"No, not yet. Has this ever happened before?"

"Oh, yeah, usually the locks freeze up in the bathrooms." I did not feel the need to explain that this was not a matter of a malfunctioning lock, we actually lock our kids in their room at night. And deprive them of food and water. Silly details.

Lo and behold I look out the window, and here come two, not just one, TWO men with tools and drills.

"Hiiiii!" I say, lamely. "Uhh, I don't think you will need the drills! We're just ... you know ...locked ... in here ..."

They enter the apartment like they are rescuing us from a burning building, and I can hear them coming down the hall.

Click.

We were free. FREE! Free to see the incredulous look on the maintenance men's faces. "Did you, ummm, turn the door knob around..."

"Yeah, see my daughter here, haha, would not stay in bed, and so ..."

Sort of an awkward pause occurred and I tried to laugh to make the whole thing just so silly, when the man walked to his tool box and pulled out THIS:

"Save this, in case it happens again," he said nicely. It's the "long metal thing"!

So now we are free, and the day is going much better. It is beautiful out, birds are singing, Nathan is giggling, and Grace is napping soundly. With the door locked, of course. All is right with the world.

Tales Of A Wannabe

2008-06-10T07:37:00.000-07:00

Yesterday I had my first photo shoot appointment. Okay, so that sounds a little too hoity toity; it was really just me hanging out with my friend, Robyn, taking a bazillion pictures and praying that something, anything, would come out printable. It is HARD to figure out lighting! I did not realize how much thought goes into shadows, highlights, lowlights, midtones, blah diddy blah blah. It also did not help that I had the camera on the wrong setting for the first twenty minutes. Oops! Thank goodness for my second marriage to Photoshop. Here are some favs...

You can see that Trent just hated the camera and was completely miserable the whole time.

And my favorite picture of all ... Jenna summed up how we all felt by the end of the shoot.

What Can I Say?

2008-06-09T19:57:00.000-07:00

"Mommy, Mommy, I did it! I went pee in the bushes!"

"Here I come!"

"Jake, I peed in the bushes ... all by myself!"

"Aren't you proud of me?"

"Mommy, why are you making that scary face? Are you ... are you crying?"

"Golly! Silly me, I guess I forgot those!"

"My sister is a hoot!"

P.S. No children were traumatized during the making of this film. We were the only ones at the park at this time. THANK GOODNESS.

(Sadly, however, one mother was severely traumatized. She is recovering well, being treated with large quantities of fermented grape juice.)

Ballin'

2008-06-07T19:54:00.000-07:00

Grace and Matt are at a Father Daughter Ball at our church right now. I can't help but be jealous ... and brimming with happiness, too, that they are creating memories. She even has a little corsage!

Oh, and I can't help but wonder how Matt is dancing. For real. The only time I have seen him dance was on our honeymoon. Margaritas were involved. A lot of them. But what he lacks in rythm, he makes up for with his ability to be the best daddy to all of our kids. I hope they know how lucky they are.

For Jen

2008-06-07T06:11:00.000-07:00

As I was working on this, I thought I remembered my friend Jen putting a picture of her daughter's nursery on her blog. Wanting the sil to at least be in the same color scheme, I went back in her blog archives to hunt down the picture.

I never found the nursery photo. But as I flipped from month to month I started getting a little choked up. There is nothing like the ease of clicking through blog archives to remind you of how fast time flies. Pictures of pregnant Jen - click! - pictures of new Makena - click!- pictures of Makena crawling - click! - post about when Jen actually won a giveaway on The Pioneer Woman's blog (so that is not sentimental, but c'mon, it's pretty cool) - click! - Makena turns one. Sometimes that's how I feel about my kids. Click, click, click, and they're seven. Or four, or eight months. My prayer is that I remember this enough to show more patience with my little brood.

Oh, How I Love Them

2008-06-05T07:16:00.001-07:00

In The Fantasy Land Where I am a Boastful Graphic Designer

2008-06-03T23:00:00.000-07:00

Do you hear that horn tooting? Yeah, that's me about to brag. My silhouette of the kids (from when we took that crazy hike through the swirly jungle) came out SO cute! I decided to play around with some other shots.

I have a sweet knack for finding cheesy quotes, no? Also I am happy to have more practice ... any takers? All you have to do is email me a picture and what your thinking, and I will fiddle around with it and email it back to you. Let me know, and I will give you tips on how to take good silhouette pics. Like, "Turn to the side. Shoot. The end." See how easy that was?

When You are Seven. And a Boy. Specifically, Jake.

2008-06-02T21:09:00.000-07:00

"Mom." We are in the car, on the way to karate. "I know a synonym for stinky."

"What?"

"Foul."

"Yup."

"I have FOUL armpits. HAHAHA HEE HAW! .... Nathan's - ohmygosh, MOM! There is a bunny in the road!!!"

"What? Where?"

"Right there! Awww, he is so cute, just sitting in the road."

"Yeah, aww."

"Nathan's diapers are FOUL. My armpits are FOUL. That bunny is looking for a lake, you know why, Mom?"

"Why?"

"Because he is FOUL. He needs a bath."

... after karate. "Dad, know what is another word for stinky? FOUL. My feet are FOUL!"

Matt: "You know what is another word for foul? Rancid!"

I do not ever wonder where Jake gets it from.

Incoherent Thoughts on Lost (Alt. Title: Wow, I am a Total Dork)

2008-05-30T08:33:00.000-07:00

Who is feeding this baby? Claire is hanging in the shack with her dad/Jacob and creeping Kate out in the future, and I am pretty sure they don't sell formula in the Hatch. I am usually not picky about details like this, but c'mon.

"All right, Kenny Rogers..." AHAHAHA! I love Sawyer. And what did he whisper to Kate, the promise that she was fulfilling for him in the flash forwards? I think it had to do with the daughter he had.

I hope Jin is floating in the water, and going to be alive. I liked him.

Desmond, please go to Antarctica and live with Penny far away from her creep dad (aka Kirsten-Kiki's dad from the O.C.). You deserve happiness. And you are super hot.

I would like to confess that I also think Ben is kind of ... errrr ... hot. I am sorry, but confidence is appealing, and his confidence overrides the odd bugginess of his eyes. Juliet was missing out.

Hallelujah and Amen to seeing this guy in the coffin. He bugged, even while dead. Christie's Mom says that he is Jacob, but I am leaning more toward Jack's dad. How could Locke have seen Jacob, but been him at the same time. Simpleton Trekkie thinking, C.M.

And this is for Kip, who doubted my theory that the previous video I posted might be the last ten minutes of the show, period. I am sticking to my thinking that when all is said and done, the beginning footage of the show will also be the end footage. A full circle.

(This is NOT the same video from before, it might seem that way at first. This is from the Missing Pieces clips put out by ABC during the show's hiatus. You can find the rest of them on abc.com. Because surely you are as dorky as I am, and peruse websites looking for clues and little bits of info.)

Booyah!

BFF

2008-05-27T08:43:00.000-07:00

(Remember that time when my kids went walking through the magical Japanese cherry blossom forest? No? Me either, but it looks like it would have been cute.)

The other day I was putting Nathan to sleep in our room. I came out to the living room to find Jake and Grace coloring at the coffee table. I plopped down on the couch with a book, when Grace said, "Guess what Jake said to me."

"What?"

"He said, 'I love you.' To me!" She was so excited. Her adoration of her brother is unparalleled.

"Awww, that was very sweet."

After an awkward pause, with Jake looking nervously around, he exclaimed, "Grace! Why did you have to tell her?! Guuuuuuy!"

Busted.

(Oh, and hey, remember when my kids went walking in that swirly jungle, and suddenly a quote about friendship from Winnie the Pooh appeared, mid-air? Nah, me either, but I sent this off to get printed, huge, for the kids wall. Fingers crossed it comes back good.)

Gittin' Himself Ejikated

2008-05-27T07:30:00.000-07:00

I am so proud of my brother. On Saturday he received his diploma from San Diego State (and it wasn't in beer pong!), the first person in our family to hold a college degree. Ryan has worked so hard in continuing his education, even returning to school after a long break (otherwise known as "getting a job in the mortgage industry"). And in typical over-achiever fashion, he isn't stopping with his B.A.; he's off to Michigan in August to get his MBA from Michigan State.

So, I salute you, Ryan. Now that we are grown up, I forgive you for when you called me Zitstie during my acne ridden teen years. And when we stretched out that slimy hand, and you "accidentally" let go of the black handle so it snapped back and gave me a black eye. And when you purposely killed me during Gyromite so you could have a turn. And when you put a dixie cup on top of your television, and made me drop quarters in it, charging me for watching shows. Even though it was in the room that we shared ... and you weren't home ...

On second thought, I hope the Michigan winters are harsh and you find out that they don't sell Cup O' Noodles or Hormel chili at the nearest market. Or hot dogs. And I hope the Spartans lose every basketball game.

Congratulations, Ryan! (See ya!)

Wiebe '08

2008-05-26T07:00:00.000-07:00

If you are looking for a different kind of movie that both you and your hubby will enjoy, and, strangely enough, Becoming Jane didn't do the trick, then I must recommend King of Kong: A Fistful of Quarters. This documentary follows the efforts of Steve Wiebe, husband and father of two, as he seeks to break the Donkey Kong high score world record. Excluding the disturbing amount of time Wiebe spends practicing DK, thereby not with his family, he is one of the most likable guys on the planet. When Matt mentioned this movie to me I dutifully feigned interest, but by the end of the flick, I was welling up with tears and shouting at the television. Even if you know nothing about video games, Wiebe is sure to tug at a heartstring or two, and the other characters' eccentricities will keep you laughing. So go watch it and tell me what you think.

Hey! Look at My Kids!

2008-05-23T08:44:00.001-07:00

Grab your popcorn, it's movie time! Not that I expect anyone to sit through these video clips of my sweet darlings, but, you know. If you are bored or something.

Scene 1!
Nathan is OBSESSED with Peek a boo blocks. He can be totally fussy, crying, gouging his eyes out, but when those blocks start stacking he has a little baby seizure of joy. I stack these things, on average, 2453 times a day. He likes to taunt me by faking the knock down a few times before he goes destructo. (Also, I do not typically make bizarre high pitched sounds as noted by the video.)
RATING: C for Cute

Scene 2!
Grace's obsession is with spinning. Just ... spinning. She spins every morning and every afternoon, almost on a spinning schedule. In case you thought I was exaggerating about our sweet girl perhaps having arrived from planet Zoton, this video shall prove my point. (By the way, this video has been termed anti climactic by the blog editor, Christie's Mom. Grace does not launch into "There's No Business Like Show Business!" at the end. So, if you are waiting for something to happen ... it doesn't. Just spinning and eye rolling.)
RATING: I for Interpretive

As a side note, Grace is currently seeking out the World Record for How Many Times Can You Sing "Oh My Darlin' " in one day. We are at 8253 times right now. Never before have I so heartily considered enrolling in the Witness Protection Program or launching myself over the edge of our balcony.

Scene 3! and 4!
Jake doing karate and Jake doing push ups. Neither of which I am posting so you can giggle at his athletic skill. Seriously, do you think I exploit my children for laughs? That is sick and wrong (seriously, at least watch the push ups, they are hilarious). Jake is in the red helmet.
RATING M for mild violence and muffled laughs.

Thanks Auntie Naine!

2008-05-22T17:48:00.000-07:00

The ice cream was HEAVENLY. So heavenly, in fact, that I think it blew my diet for a few days.

But, on a lighter note, I have worked out four times and I have lost 22* pounds!

*Numbers may be slightly off. Scale used was fanstastical scale in my imagination. Results may vary.

This Boy

2008-05-21T07:46:00.000-07:00

Jake is seven. That means next year he will be eight, then nine and, before we know it, ten. To anyone else, that seems like simple math, but to me it seems unreal that he is growing up that fast. When Jake was born, I remember thinking that I never wanted him to grow up; I wanted him to remain small enough to cradle in my arms forever. Like most moms, I got a little weepy when he reached milestones ... first birthday, first day of school, etc. But I am finding that the growing up is the best part. Every stage has been more fun that the last, and with age there come so many more opportunities. Where I used to laugh to myself at his cute little shenanigans, now Jake and I laugh together at the craziness of his sister, or the sweetness of his baby brother. Sometimes, when one of them is doing something particularly cute, Jake and I will share a glance and a secret smile, and I think to myself how grateful I am to have him and all his seven years. Last night he read stories to Nathan and Grace, patiently suffering through page after page of Elmo, though I new he would rather have been reading a video game strategy guide. He is an amazing brother, always willing to "babysit" when I need to do laundry, dishes, or even plop on the couch for a few minutes. He is thoughtful, helpful and, though he claims to hate anything related to l-o-v-e (blech!), he is very loving and has a keen sense for when others need a little something. Like a quiet, "You are the best mom," on a rough day.

I am proud of him. Proud of how he is growing up.

The Kids ... Alfred Hitchcock Style

2008-05-20T12:46:00.000-07:00

They look so angelic when you can't see them rolling their eyes at you.

*(Also, stop laughing, Sarah A., I totally ripped off the idea, okay?)

Gardening With Grace

2008-05-19T11:39:00.000-07:00

Hello! I am stealing Mommy's place on the computer today, to let you in on one of my favorite gardening tips.

My mom loves to steam vegetables. (Pretty much because she doesn't know what else to do with them.) Here's a little tip, if you steam veggies too. Take the leftover greenish water from the steamer, add lots of cold water to the pot, and use that to water your plants. Mom swears it has resuscitated many of her vegetative victims (she kind of has a black thumb).

And another tip, why not garden topless? Seems pretty organic to me!

Littlest Punk

2008-05-17T16:25:00.000-07:00

Add this to the long list of things we swore we would never do as parents, but ended up doing it, loving it, and feeling bad about the people we made fun of who did it before us - putting a mohawk on your baby.

Whoa Baby!

2008-05-16T08:15:00.001-07:00

I was perusing various websites (otherwise known as "stalking people's blogs") and saw an awesome theory on LOST. If you are just watching season 1 or 2, maybe don't peek ahead. If you are not watching the show at all, you have no taste and need help.

Sooooo, the very first episode of LOST was titled "The Pilot," which made sense because it was the pilot of the show. BUT, the focus seems to be on Jack for much of the episode, and all future episode titles related to the character whom the show centered on. (P.S. It is a sad day when terms like Hurleycentric are common phrase in your home ... see previous post about getting a life.) Well, in one episode Jack said he wanted to take flying lessons when he got off the island. Uh-huh. And we have already seen how the island is in some sort of time warp. Now for the goosebumpy part ... watch this video, the first ten minutes of the FIRST episode of LOST, and pretend for a moment that Jack (who said, "We need to go back!") has now arrived back on the island. Watch how quickly he runs to the beach, and how attentive he is with Claire. He just seems a wee bit calm and prepared, dontcha think?

Trippy, huh? (And if you already figured this out, like, a year ago, go high five yourself.)

Also, did anyone else get a tummy flip when Claire's mom told Jack that Claire was his sister? That was really sad. And then when the mom told Kate what a beautiful baby she had? Waaa!
(That leads to the laugh of the night, when Kate told the reporters that the 20 lb. baby in her arms was 5 weeks old. I would not have wanted to birth that baby without an epidural, let me tell you.)

Very Bored, Playing with Photoshop, and Rambling About Nothing

2008-05-15T09:03:00.000-07:00

1.Why can't we go back to this time? When artists were pining for these reubenesque women? I would have been such a catch back then.

2. You know the book "Where the Wild Things Are"? Well, Maurice Sendak wrote another book, that I happened to get at the library to read with the kids. It is called "In the Night Kitchen." Well, I don't know what you do in the kitchen at night, but I hope it is not this:

Apparently, that is where the wild thing is. There are about five pictures of the boy's manhood in this children's book. What?! Why? Also, the story is about the naked boy getting baked into a cake by three grown men. It is stupid and pointless. (And, yes, I usually peek through the books before I read them to the kids, but I thought I could trust this classic author.) Oh, and just to add to this blurb, Jenna Bush recently said it is one of her favorite children's books. Uh-huh.

3. You know what is a cool website? Instructables.com. They have how-tos on almost everything. (And I mean everything, but I did not watch the video, "How to Make Out." But if you need tips or something, you know.)

4. I hope that creepy Val Kilmer wannabe dies tonight in LOST. He bugs. Also, is Claire's dad Jacob? Is Claire dead? Why can't Locke die, I can't stand him. I love that show.

5. My friend Alicia put up a cool site on her blog. If you like music, you should definitely check it out.

6. Do other couples do this? Get bored and take pictures of each others eyeballs? What is wrong with us? Where, exactly, does one go to get a life?

7. Sigh, hummmm.

8. Sorry, but am I the only mom who gets bored occasionally? Really, you can only play Pokemon so many times. (I know way too much about Pokemon, for a woman of my age, by the way.) The founder of the school where I taught, back when I was interesting and not taking pictures of my husband's eyeball, said, "People who say they are bored are, themselves, boring." Or something like that. Dang, I'm in trouble.

9. ... C'mon, she had to get bored sometimes. WHAT was she doing all day???

10. My kid doing karate is adorable.

11. Another kid's hair is growing remarkably fast.

12. This kid makes me laugh.

13. The end.

Peachy

2008-05-14T08:07:00.000-07:00

So, nothing new here. Just lots of coughing, whining, coughing, crying, snot dripping and coughing. Nathan is sick AGAIN and was up from 2 to 5 last night. I am hoping he will be back to his normal self soon...

Examining Cultural Literacy in Our Home

2008-05-11T09:25:00.000-07:00

Matt: "Hey, do we have any movies?"

Me: "Yeah. We have 'Becoming Jane'."

"What's it about?"

"It's about the life of Jane Austen."

"Oh. ... That workout lady?"

"What?"

"That lady who does the workouts on tv ... ?"

"Denise Austin??? You think they made a movie about Denise Austin?"

"I don't know. Maybe she used to be heavy, but she worked really hard ... "

- Long stare - "No. Jane Austen is a famous author. She wrote Pride and Prejudice."

- crickets chirping-

(We did not watch the movie.)

A Happy Mother's Day Indeed

2008-05-09T19:15:00.000-07:00

Ladies. Friends. Mothers and mothers to be.

It is that time of the year again.

Time to celebrate the tireless journey that is motherhood. Time to honor the sacrifices of our predecessors and to be acknowledged by our own broods for the efforts we, ourselves, make on a daily basis.

Many of us will be recognized with small presents, tokens of appreciation. I share with you, my own collection of such gifts.

The macaroni necklace, a gift from Grace last year.

Accompanying the necklace, a lovely handwritten card.

Last year, Jake wrote that I am most beautiful when I am pregnant. So sweet. And good, since I still look like I am at 7 months gestation.

This year, Jake made stationery for me. The cards read, "Thank you for being my mom! And you're like a chef!" So I can basically use these to write to ... my mom? Oh, but the chef part. Nevermind.

But my favorite gift of all time, came from my husband. It must be difficult to conjure up a gift that symbolizes the adoration and gratitude that a man must have for the woman who bore him three beautiful children. The woman who cleans the same messes over and over and over like a scary rendition of Groundhog Day. The woman who prepares meals, cleans dishes, does the laundry, changes diapers, and greets him at he end of the day with a warm smile and a cheerful "Welcome home honey!" (Or, at least, a "Hey.")

Matt, however, has a gift of bestowing memorable gifts, and he did not fail last Mother's Day. Oh no. In fact, I still shed tears every time I use this gift.

I shed tears, friends, because ... it chops onions.

The Vidalia Chopper. Seen on infomericals around the country, this puppy chops onions, tomatoes and celery faster than you can say, "What about Burke Williams?" You haven't made salsa, until you've chopped your goods with the Vidalia. Try to stifle your envy, girls. Maybe this year will be your lucky year.

*Written with complete permission from my adoring husband, who is still yelling from the couch, "You said you wanted one! " And that's okay, because he did grant me my life's wish, and that is, quite plainly ...

to be a mommy.

Huh.

2008-05-09T17:01:00.001-07:00

So it is 5:00 on Friday, and the kids are mesmerized, and I mean in a trance! By this:

Giada.

(How funny that Matt has a similar reaction when her show is on, but for other reasons not pertaining to today's blog post. Also, did you know that her hubby is a designer for Anthropologie? Makes you hate her even more, right? Me too. Even though she seems like she is very nice and sweet, and maybe could she be my best friend? And get me some free dishes and a pretty apron?)

Sigh.

2008-05-08T08:03:00.000-07:00

I am really enjoying this gloomy, cloudy weather. Why? Because I can continue to live in severe denial that hot summer weather is almost upon us; weather that calls for -gag, wretch, gag- a swimsuit. The other day I waved a cheery Hello! to a friend, and my arm fat swung back and gave me a fat lip.

Okay, so maybe not, but I had to duck and it was all very embarrassing.

Today, however, maybe in honor of upcoming Mother's Day, I am giving my body hatred a break. Because my body has done some cool tricks. Namely, this:

and this:

and ... interestingly ... this:

Today I salute you, ~~fat blubbery tummy rolls~~ womanly vessel. Many thanks for the kids.

Tomorrow, please be a size six.

Do Not Leave Small Children Unattended

2008-05-07T07:48:00.000-07:00

Grace errupts into her "I'm naughty! I'm naughty! Oh yeah! You know it!" dance.

Webkinz: Virtual Crack

2008-05-04T09:45:00.000-07:00

Hi my name is Christie.

Hi Christie.

I am a kinzaholic. It has been 25 minutes since my last spin at the Wheel of Wow, and 2 days since I last enrolled a pet at Kinzville Academy.

*******

It all started so innocently. As I was searching out ideas for Christmas gifts, I noticed that in every Hallmark or doo-dad shop their hung a flyer: "Webkinz Sold Here!!!" What is the big deal with these things? I wondered. After a lengthy explanation from the overzealous Hallmark worker, I understood that these cute little stuffed animals come with a code which logs you onto webkinz.com. It is like a virtual world for the pets. So if you buy a pig, you log his code onto Webkinz and now you have virtual pig in Kinzville. You take care of the pig, buy him food and clothes, decorate his home, etc. Sounds cute, right? So, come Christmas morning, Mario the black lab and Tootsie Roll the Clydesdale horse joined our family.

At first, we barely ever "took care" of these online pets. Every so often the kids would ask to log on. They would feed their pets and buy them little outfits, but their play was always limited by the fact that they needed Kinzcash to buy items. To get the cash, you have to play the games. A LOT. I repeat, A LOT.

A couple of months ago, I was talking to a friend, whom we will refer to as The Pusher. She was telling me that she plays some of the games on webkinz to earn the cash for her kids. What?! I thought. Is she serious? Some of the puzzle games were actually fun, she tried to convince me. I nodded aggreeably, but inside I was thinking, We are so not having playdaytes with these people anymore.

Not but a couple of days later, I kid you not, I was at the Spectrum, letting the kids frolic in the water turtles. Behind me sat some sort of mom group. I didn't mean to eavesdrop, but they were practically screaming as they excitedly spoke about the Webkinz games they played late after the kids had gone to bed. I seriously could not believe my ears. This is end times, I thought. Locusts, floods, famine and crazy mothers playing on webkinz.

But later that night, I couldn't help myself. I had to see what the fuss was about.

So. I logged in. That's all it takes, folks. One hit, and your spiraling out of control down the slippery slope of Kinz Care.

First I was just playing a little solitaire. Then some word games. The thing was, the games were fun. I like doing word puzzles and sudoku kind of stuff, so if I was going to play these puzzles anyway, why not earn the kids a little cash for their pets, right?

And, I mean, if I am earning all this cash, I might as well take a peek at what is available for purchase in the shop. And of course, if I am going to peek, I might as well buy those cute pink tutus for the Clydesdale. And she will need a dresser for the clothes ... a fridge for the food and a backyard in which to exercise. What? You can plant a garden in the backyard? Cha ching! Before you know it, I wasn't just playing the games anymore. I was feeding the pets, buying them things, taking them to school and getting them jobs. Why? I don't know. Why does anyone turn to the underbelly of the web?

So, the kinzcash was vanishing faster than you can say "neurotic," and I still hadn't gotten the pool for Tootsie Roll's backyard, and Grace really wanted one. (Not really. I just said that to make me seem less weird.) I knew what I had to do. Call in reinforcements. The big guns. El Supremo.

My mom.

My mom, word puzzle aficionado and supporting grandmother, eagerly took it upon herself to earn mega bucks doing daily puzzles. The cash was pouring in, and the kids were stocking up on loot of all kinds. Pools, kitchens, bathrooms, toys, etc. It was the glory days.

And then. I called my mom one night, and she happened to be logging on to webkinz.

"This is weird," she said. "The horse is crying."

"What? Tootsie Roll?"

"Yeah. He's crying."

"Well, why?! Why is he crying?!"

"I don't know! How am I supposed to know why he's crying?"

"Ask him! Click on SPEAK!"

"Where is SPEAK?"

"SPEAK! SPEAK! It's in the corner."

"I can't find it!"

"Just take him to the doctor then! Dr. Quack! Why is he crying???!!!"

"Oh wait. He just said, 'It is lonely without you here.'"

"What?"

Does this sound like a typical almost 30 year old woman talking to her mother?

It only got worse, when one night I accidentally (?) ended up battling another webkinz owner in a game of Go Fish.

"Dude." I said to Matt. "I am totally killing this chick."

"This chick is, like, six." he replied.

Perhaps it was then, that I realized I had a problem.

One night, for laughs, I googled "parents addicted to webkinz" and discovered that their are entire online communities devoted to parents who own their own webkinz, talk about them, and search for friends through these sites. No joke. One of the board threads was titled "Looking for friends???" Another is titled, "How many do you have? Sex and Name?" What?! How do you decipher the sex of a stuffed animal??? Okay, so maybe my problem had not evolved quite as far, but I was willing to bet my Clydesdale's blue bubble vest that none of my other mom friends, The Pusher aside, were spending their evenings raking in kinzcash and tending to their Webkinz gardens. It was time.

And, so, it is with fondness that I bid adieu to Mario, Tootsie Roll, Luigi, Peanuts, Cookie, Oinky and Muncher. Though I may stop in from time to time and play a few games, I will no longer be able to take you to Dr. Quacks, enroll you at Kinzville Academy, or cook you meals on your Pinkrageous! stovetop. We have had good times together, but it is time I leave you at the mercy of your true adoptive parents - the children. God help you.

P.S. Mom, this does not mean you have permission to stop stockpiling the cash. Not that I care or anything. You know, for the children.

We Love Great Grandma

2008-05-04T09:21:00.001-07:00

But Grace does not love the wildlife in Great Grandma's beautiful yard.

Frightening, isn't it?

We Gather Together Today ... To Totally Make Fun of My Wedding Photos

2008-05-01T09:23:00.000-07:00

Let me begin by saying that I LOVED my wedding. It was very small, humble and totally us ... in other words on an extreme budget. My parents generously gifted us with the funds to plan the wedding, but we had no idea how ridiculously overpriced things are. Like, RIDICULOUS. One photographer told me that their packages "started" at five grand. We saw dresses for $3000, cakes for $1000, etc. But we made it work, with the help of caring and skilled friends. For example, my dearest friend Melissa graciously offered her services as DJ. Here she is spinning her magic:

The boom box was on loan from my roommate at the time, who, if I remember correctly, even installed fresh batteries for the big day. You can see how the whole thing came together with the talent of our friends and family.

The one thing, the ONE thing, EVERYONE said to fork out the cash for, was the photographer. Matt and I both have appreciation for nice pictures, so we understood this and accepted the fact that most of our budget would go toward getting stunning keepsakes from our special day. The photographers studio was adorn with gorgeous sample photos of couples sharing moments under a massive oak tree, near a swan filled pond, floating on puffy clouds and walking on water, etc. I naively assumed that we would come away with something remotely similar to the puffy cloud pictures, as the photographer briefly mentioned that one of his associates would taking the pictures. Not him. An associate.

About the associate. Now I am not a professional, so maybe it's just me, but I would think that a good wedding photographer should be almost like a phantom wedding guest. You shouldn't even know that they are there. They should blend into the background and subconsciously know when to snap away as you and your new spouse share special magical moments under oak trees.

Our photographer showed up at the wedding wearing the Joseph's technicolor dreamcoat. Seriously. She could not have looked more 80s, or stood out more if she tried. That was okay, though, because she was so sweet. It turned out, as she made a point of telling us several times, that she was a single mother, working hard to provide for her little girl. Maybe that thought clouded our judgement as she mentioned 429 times throughout the night that if we really liked our pictures, could we maybe write a short letter of recommendation? Of course! we thought. Anything to help this nice woman ~~get a new wardrobe~~ take care of her young child.

Sweet mother of pearl, if only we had known. If only. We. Had. Known.

Before I begin the portrait presentation, may I say that this would not be at all funny if Matt's aunt was not also snapping away that day, and if we did not get some great shots from her. If we didn't have those pictures with which to remember our wedding I would probably still be huddled in a dark corner, rocking, crying and whispering "why???" over and over.

Also, I need to add that ALL of the pictures from the, ahem, professional are total crap. It's not like we got a few bad pictures, hardy har har. The WHOLE album is laden with pictures that are off center, unflattering, eyes closed, poorly flashed, etc.

So, here are some of my favorites. First the C Lo.

Nevermind that I am staring into oblivion, it is a totally unnatural pose, and the lighting is horrid. Please, look at my butt. (I will probably never ever ever say that again.) My dress had these two panels that tied together in the back. In this shot, I am holding a panel awkwardly, with my arm blocking any space between, thereby creating the J LO butt. And just so you know, I am actually staring up at a couple on their balcony, holding margaritas, and shouting, "Hey! Congratulations!" That is how ~~ghetto~~ quaint and cozy our wedding was.

Here we have the actual ceremony.

Did she not drink her V8 that day?! Trust me, I scanned this as straight as possible, as not to lose any of the awesomely horrible composition. Magical, isn't it? (Also, you can see where the margarita couple was in the upper left hand corner.)

Now, the group photo:

Nothing says remembering fond times like playing Where's Waldo with your wedding photos.

Here we are with my family at our reception:

Where do I begin? How about the gorgeous red fire curb in the background? Or maybe the fact that my dad is like 6 feet 3, and Matt is ... not ... and she placed us on a slanted driveway so that it looks like my Dad is two feet taller than Matt? even my grandma looks gargantuan compared to my mom. And I do not know where that little boy came from, he just showed up on our wedding day and I asked Matt if we could keep him.

Here I am with the stray boy:

Red curb, again, and isn't that a beautiful, tender shot? The bride dropping her son off a rock wall? Everyone should have one of those in their wedding album.

Our reception was held at a restaurant overlooking Dana Point harbor. Of course we picked this place for it's amazing view, and the opportunities for ... amazing ... photos ...

First, here is what Matt's aunt captured from her point and shoot, and I think she was behind a window.

Pretty. Just so you get an idea that it was early summer evening, and still light out.

Now, this is the piece de la resistance. Our favorite wedding photo. We are even talking about poster sizing it. The Ring Shot.

So you know, this photographer told us that "this might be her best ring shot ever," and "do we mind if she takes a few more in this pose, it is just gorgeous!" Needless to say, when we got the proofs, we were anxious to see how The Ring Shot had turned out.

I think the aqua-marine railing provides a beautiful background for the giant bird poo next to our fingers and the loogie trailing down the right-most bar, don't you? And I am so glad she overexposed the shot and blacked out the harbor in the background. That would have been ugly.

So, here we are. A couple a crazy kids in love, staring out at our future ... of dark, black, abysmal gloom ...

with a stray boy.

Dialogue

2008-04-30T19:35:00.000-07:00

"Grace, get down from there right now."

"I will get down from here ... when you say the secret word."

"Spanking."

"I'm getting down."