Merry Christmas!

Steve and I were able to sleep in until 7am on Christmas morning, I couldn't believe it. That's probably the last time that will happen for many years, so I hope we savored it. Luke didn't quite get that it was Christmas morning until he got to the top of the stairs and saw his gifts. Santa delivered a shake 'n go race car set, per Luke's request. I was hoping to film his reaction with the video camera, but all I got was a blur of boy streaking by me, shouting, "this is so cool!"

Andy could really care less about Christmas, he's still playing with the same toys he did on Monday. Once we extracted Luke from the race car set, we loaded everybody up and went to Spanaway for Christmas, part II. Christmas day photographs are a bit of a challenge for me, but here's a decent one without anyone's backside facing the camera. Grandma and Papa gave Andy a wooden tool box/workbench but I think he was most captivated by the bright shiny bow.

I hate to toot my own horn here, but it's my blog, so here we go. I made my parents a scrapbook of some of the fun events we've all enjoyed since they retired here in Washington. Lets just say it was a big hit.

I can't remember the last time we celebrated Christmas with Grammie Edna. I know she isn't always thrilled to be here, but we are glad to have her. I think she had a good time and handled the chaos pretty well. We gave her the annual calendar with the grandchildren and great-grandchildren featured on every page.

Steve was pretty stoked to receive some kind of fancy remote control flying contraption from my parents. Hopefully the weather will improve and he can take it outside soon.

You Know You Are a Mama When...

...you step out of the shower and find a 3 year old constructing a "big, big, big" tower in your bathroom at 6:45am. Older and wiser women in my life tell me these are the best years because they are little, still want to talk to me (even if I am in the shower) and I usually know where they are at night. I am trying to savor the preschool years, really. But 27 consecutive mornings of seeing Luke long before I see the sun come up is getting a wee bit tiresome. Couldn't our bonding moments begin after it's light outside?

I'm just sayin', is all.

Trauma 'n Drama

It was a brother-to-brother collision this morning. Andy's face met the Pergo at a very high rate of speed. Bleeding. Lots and lots of bleeding. Now, I am an educated woman in the field of first aid and injury response. When other people's children bleed I think it is way cool.

It's a whole different story when it's my own.

Andy was screaming like crazy and did I mention there was a lot of blood?

I handed him to Steve and raced to the phone. My first call was to a mother of 3 boys who also happens to work as a dental hygenist. I knew she could be the voice of reason, since I was freaking out. She gave me the scoop: firm pressure and apply ice. By the way, mouth injuries heal very quickly.

Andy stopped screaming, pushed the ice away, chugged a bottle and he was good to go.

Things Are Looking Up

In the midst of my pity party yesterday, something went "thump" on my front porch. The dog and I raced to see what was the matter. And what to my wondering eyes did appear?
A tower of treats that just makes me cheer!
I am a girl raised on mail-order shopping. Catalogs are to be dog-eared, drooled over, perused many times in search of the perfect gift for friends and family scattered hither and yon. Lucky for me, I married a man who shares my fettish, er, affection for catalogs, particularly the Harry and David catalog that arrives approximately 17 times in our mailbox each December.
We never dreamed someone would bestow upon us a Tower of Treats. Oh, we've been blessed with Harry and David pears almost every year. Occasionally a box of chocolates comes our way. But this is a whole 'nother realm. I have exercised much restraint in not devouring the whole container of moose munch all by myself. It is, after all, from Steve's work and he should have equal opportunity to consume mass quantities of empty calories.

Thrilling Thursday

It's been a rough week here in suburbia. The dog continues to be super high maintenance with his paw injury...can't get wet, can't lick it, has to wear a lampshade collar to obstruct the licking, needs anxiety medication because he can't tolerate the collar, blah, blah, blah.
I told him to stop licking for the 17th time this morning and Luke says, "that's what dogs do, mom."
Astute observation, I guess.
Luke's preschool teacher decided a few weeks ago that she just couldn't hack it anymore and handed in her resignation. But she promised to stay until a replacement was found. I don't know all the messy details, but she developed a mysterious illness that prevented her from honoring that commitment. Three year olds don't understand the concept of a substitute teacher. They were mortified to hear of their teacher's departure and even more aggravated by the ever-changing substitute. At last, the replacement arrived yesterday. I couldn't stand to watch, so I didn't stick around. There were more than enough moms hovering in this tiny little shoebox of a classroom, making sure she didn't mess up. Everyone came out alive, so I guess it was a great first day.
To top off our week, Luke woke up at 4:30 this morning and yelled until I came into his room. He said he didn't feel good. I was extremely sympathetic, gave him some medicine and told him not to call me until it was light outside. Well, by 7:30 he was awake again and whimpering in pain. I'm so glad I cancelled our plans for the day, because by 10am he was vomiting all over the floor. I tried to introduce the concept of using a bucket, but he didn't quite make it. It's hard to explain what vomiting is to a 3 year old.
I must say, although I don't have much good news (nor any snazzy pictures), I am so grateful we ripped up our carpet and installed the pergo. Cleaning up a mess such as that was a snap. There you have it, our thrilling Thursday in a nutshell.

Good Grief!

Jake doesn't usually receive a lot of "blog time". Since the arrival of the 2-legged children, Jake is pretty low on the totem pole around here. If he could talk, I'm sure he would remind me of the days when I treated him like a first-born son. Jake recently celebrated his 5th birthday and what an eventful week he has had. He stayed at a local kennel while we were out of town for Thanksgiving. When I picked him up, they told me he had a cut on his paw pad. No one knew what happened, they were really sorry, if it didn't get better someone should probably take a look at it, blah, blah, blah. Oh, and let's not forget the best part, "good luck keeping the bandage on, because we've tried to keep one on and it just keeps slipping off. "
Now, if this were a human child, I would be freaking out. If Luke's preschool teacher handed him over to me with an injury and said, "sorry, don't know how this happened. By the way, my first aid skills stink and I couldn't find a band aid. So, if he doesn't get better you should maybe get somebody to look at him." Can you imagine the outrage?
I'm just a teeny, tiny bit wound up about this one.
Wait. It gets better.
When I signed Jake in at the kennel, I purchased a $5 healthy pet guarantee. In plain english, this means that if Jake gets hurt at the kennel, they will cover his expenses at the veterinary clinic. It scared me that they even offered this policy, but I was all over it. So, when I picked Jake up and the oh-so-informed attendant happily charged my Visa card for an obscene amount of money, she also acknowledged that the guarantee was in place and they would "totally cover" my expenses.
Jake's 20 minutes at the vet, including bandage application and amoxicillin, was $55. When I called to ask for reimbursement, these kennel people are suddenly not so helpful. Suddenly they have decided Jake arrived at the kennel with his foot cut open. They don't cover any pre-existing conditions. Grrrrr!
When I was a kid, my grandfather was forever bent over his trusty typewriter, drafting letters of complaint to all kinds of people who had demonstrated poor customer service. He once broke a toilet 3 times trying to install it and 3 times returned it to the store. Of course it was the toilet's fault that it kept cracking. This guy was good.
So, I did something a few minutes ago that would make my Grampie proud. I sat down at my trusty laptop and wrote a very tersely worded letter to the kennel, requesting reimbursement. I don't know if it will do any good, but I certainly feel better.
I am a bit sarcastic today because I am so irritated. On a more serious note, it has occurred to me that it is so important to keep your word and honor your commitments. As a consumer, I am so disappointed that I have encountered such poor customer service. But, more importantly, as a parent, I am reminded of the values of honor and integrity. We need to raise children who hold these values in high esteem...and possess strong communication skills so they can write tersely worded letters.

Kicking the Habit

First I must confess that we allowed this habit to fester for far too long. But we couldn't take the whining, the pleading, the tears. I would stand in the aisle at the store and tell myself I was crazy for giving in to his demands. Then I would give in and enable his behavior.
I am proud to say it has all come to an end.

NO MORE PACIFIERS FOR LUKE!

It's about time, you say. It's only been three and a half years! That's 3 and a half years of naps, car rides and bedtimes where he lulled himself to sleep with his delightful "binky". No going back in his room for drinks of water, endless bed time stories. There was very little whining and fussing. Just in the bed with his binky and lovey (security blanket...we'll probably wrestle that one from his grip right before he steps on the school bus for the first time).
We purchased his last set of pacifiers last Sunday. He chewed holes in them by Tuesday. I was a bit irritated. So, I told him the trash man took his binkies away because there were holes in them and they didn't work anymore. That actually went over pretty well. He only cried one time, but he has slept through his naps and at night without any problems.
Now, frequent flyers here at the blog (all 10 of you) may recall a previous post where I forced him to walk away from a certain red car that he insisted he MUST have. I promised he could have one as soon as he gave up the binkies. Do you know that's the first thing he remembered after sleeping through the night without his pacifier? Last night we all piled in the minivan and went to Fred Meyer so he could select the much-coveted Lightnin' McQueen. That car makes the most obnoxious noises. Such noises provided the background for our breakfast this morning. Steve looked at me and said, "better than having a binky, eh?"

Post-Op Recovery

Today was a big day. The kind of day where you get to the end and you ask, "did this really happen?" After several months of patching, the doctor felt Luke's vision was 20/20 and we could proceed with surgery to correct the alignment issues. Steve and I overslept a smidge and didn't get up until 4:45. That's a.m., in case you wondering. Such slothfulness...the day's half over by 4:30. Anyway, we scooped Luke out of bed and trudged to the hospital in Bellevue. Let's give a shout out to all those crazy people actually commuting to their jobs at that hour of the day. Ick. Anywho, Luke was a great patient and went off to the OR with a big smile on his face. He even had the nurses giggling. The doctor was surprised to find that his original diagnosis was incorrect and rather than slicing a tendon and inserting a spacer, he just "adjusted" the muscles so Luke's eye will align properly. It isn't an exact science, so one has to hope that when the swelling goes away, his eyes will be "equally" aligned. The doctor was excellent and the whole experience was very positive. In fact, he just called me at home to check on Luke. Shocking.

Meanwhile, one among us is having a birthday today. The big Four-O. My parents kept Andy for us and Luke was sleeping soundly, so Steve was able to open his presents without any little helpers. Steve was a good sport about spending a portion of his birthday at the hospital. Some might see it beats working...

Trick or Treat

We were invited to a Halloween party at Jack's house. Luke had shunned his costume all day, didn't want anything to do with being a fireman. Once Jack donned his pirate ensemble, Luke was ready to negotiate. There's nothing like a little peer pressure to motivate a 3 year old. We didn't trick or treat last year because it was more fun to answer the door and hand out treats. I didn't know what to expect from our little fireman, but he followed Jack and his posse all over the neighborhood. Even when he started to get tired and his bag of treats became too heavy, he refused to give in. I think he was quite relieved when we made it back to Jack's house. He insisted that the treats were his, but he didn't seem to want to eat any. I was sure that he would forget all about them by morning. Unfortunately, the first thing he asked for after breakfast was a treat. What's wrong with a bite of snickers at 8am?

Eighty-Five!

We are celebrating Grammie Great's 85th birthday this week. She was a good sport and posed for the camera on several occasions. We didn't expect the boys to cooperate, so 3 of us just kept taking pictures and hoping no one would get shoved off the sofa. We had a big meal, ate some funny cake (traditional family dessert) and Grammie opened a few gifts.

Another Museum Adventure

When we first moved to western Washington, I thought I would see my college friends all the time. Funny thing about kids, they have a knack for rearranging your plans. One of my former roommates and I managed to meet at the children's museum in Everett last Friday. I thought we would sit and chat, leisurely catching up on the last year of our lives. Ha! Our children went in three different directions. We left a lot of stories half-finished, mostly because I was chasing after Andy. He eventually discovered the golf balls and sat down for a few minutes.

Luke was captivated by their model train display and the giant train table. He spent at least an hour playing with all of the different train sets. We managed to lure him away eventually, but only because he got to be the "pilot". We didn't visit very many exhibits, as the plane and the train were located right next to each other. Hopefully we can go back when there are more adults available to chase Andy around.

I Ain't No Mack, I'm a Peterbilt, for dang sake!"

We went to Kidquest today, a fun little "museum" for the 4 and under crowd. I was feeling quite proud of myself, loading the boys and all our paraphenalia in the Silver Bullet and (almost) meeting my desired departure time. Two of our friends from play group were there with their little girls. But girls were the last thing on Luke's mind once he saw this beauty. The lovely people at Kidquest planted a Peterbilt truck right smack in the middle of the museum! Occasionally, I could pry him out of the driver's seat to go and examine the trains, but he always managed to race back to the truck as soon as there was a vacancy. If you haven't watched the Cars movie, then the novelty of all of this is lost on you, but for those who have seen it 312 times, you may recall that the Mack truck plays a key role. Hence, Luke's fascination with actually sitting behind the wheel and pressing all the buttons. Oh, my. It was almost more fun than one 3 year old could take.

We Have Lift Off!

Well, life has moved in a new direction around here. Andy started walking independently at the end of September, after weeks of struggling and fussing, sometimes screaming in frustration. He has it all figured out now and might I say, he is quite proud of himself. He walks around with this cute little smile, often pausing to make sure someone is watching. He is enamored by the most surprising objects: the vertical blinds by the sliding glass door, my toes inside my socks, big brothers cars (of course). I'm thankful that the crying has stopped, but a little anxious about all the stuff I haven't baby-proofed. Luke wasn't nearly as curious about what was behind closed doors.

TWO Grandma-Greats!

Luke is careful about keeping all the details of his busy little life in order. This includes knowing everyone's name and where they live. In an effort to keep his extended family carefully labeled, we call my grandmothers "Grandma great". I grew up with both of these wonderful women spending a portion of their summers at our house. But in recent years, their paths have not crossed very often. So, this was another enjoyable moment for our family...TWO Grandma-greats together again.

Andy meets my dad's mother, great-Grammie McCahan. Although he was rather oblivious and more interested in wandering around the house than posing for a photo, this was a treat for me. I don't think I had the opportunity to meet my great grandparents. This is definitely one for the scrapbook.

Reunion

We were blessed to enjoy a visit from a portion of our "Colorado family". My dad's mom, two brothers and sister-in-law came to see us last week. They were kind enough to come to our house for dinner. Heather and her family came, as well, and we all enjoyed delicious BBQ from a local restaurant.

Car Talk

Several weeks ago, Luke stuffed 3 paper clips and a pair of earrings into the CD player of the Silver Bullet (aka: our van). Surprisingly enough, this damaged the amplifier and it no longer produces sound. Now, I am generally an optimistic person. I tried to think positively about this new turn of events. These thoughts went something like, "oh, good, now I'll have time to think in the car. I won't have the distraction of the radio, I might even consider a little prayer time".
Ha! Luke has taken this opportunity to torture his captive audience. He talks every single second that he is in that car.
So, being the blogger that I am, perhaps I will document some of these conversations...
Luke threw I gigantic tantrum today because he wasn't allowed to take his friend's toy back to our house. Did I mention this is a gynormous Lightnin' McQueen car that talks when you push the buttons? Luke adores the little red car and simply must have every one that he encounters. He would not leave that house without the car. After I pried it from his grip and forced him out the door, the negotiating began.
"Can I have that Lightnin' McQueen car, mama? That's Luke's car, that's not Reilly's car, that's my car, that car's going to my house, it's not staying at Reilly's house, can I have that car? Can I stay here? I WANNA STAY AT REILLY'S HOUSE!!"
"We don't take our friend's toys." (said forcefully, with teeth gritted, while manipulating his resistant body into his car seat)
"I WANT LIGHTNIN' MCQUEEN! THAT'S MY CAR!"
"Listen, if you give away all of your binkies (pacifiers) then I will buy that car for you."
"What did you say, mama?"
" If you say goodbye to all of your binkies and never use them again, you may have that car."
"Never use my binkies again? Throw them away?"
"Yes, throw them away, never again, no more binkies."
"Oh, mama, you are such a funny girl." (boyish, 3 year old laughter)

Yes. Yes, I am.

Happy Birthday, Andrew!

It's official! One year ago today, we welcomed baby Andrew into our family. Wow. That was a fast year. He figured out how to pull himself up today and boy, is he proud. He can walk well with assistance, so I guess it is only a matter of time until he is flying solo.
In other news, we welcomed an unexpected addition to the family today: Luke's friend, Bob. Unfortunately, Luke is the only one who can see Bob. Bob appears to be ultra skinny and low maintenance, although he likes to eat cookies...

The Little Fireman

Luke's Halloween costume arrived in the mail today. He is just a teeny tiny bit excited. Presently he is wearing it while eating PB&J and watching his new favorite show, "Fireman Sam". Ah, it's good to be three. He is very eager to ride in a fire truck. I really hope the pre- school has a fire station field trip on the calendar.
In other news...Luke went to the bathroom at pre-school ALL BY HIMSELF. For those of you who have witnessed our long, slow (agonizing) potty training process, you might just feel the need to shout "Hooray!". I high-fived Mrs. Leigh when she shared this little tidbit with me. I spent several minutes praising Luke for his achievements. Once we were in the car and on the way home, he shared with me that he hit one of his friends and Mrs. Leigh had to talk to him about it. Hmmm. We can't have everything, I guess.
Luke's verbal abilities have really blossomed over the past several months. Although, I must admit I grow a little weary of the chatter and I'm woefully ill-equipped to deal with the "hard" questions. A teenage boy was killed here in Maple Valley last week. Apparently a he and his skateboard collided with a dump truck. Flowers and balloons are sitting by the side of the road, which happens to be a frequent route we travel. Luke wanted to know what happened. Honesty is the best policy, right? We told him the boy was hit by a dump truck and he died. DIED??
How exactly does one explain "died" to a three year old?
I thought I would be extra honest and tell him that everyone will die someday.
Perhaps that wasn't the best choice.
As we are driving home that way today (I must confess I went the long way on the way to preschool to avoid all the questions), Luke begins to name everyone he can think of and wants to know if they will die, too. Poor kid. I hope he isn't too traumatized.

First Day of Pre-school

Phew! I'm sure glad this day is done. I was so anxious for Luke to start pre-school today. I was worried about dropping Andy off with a friend, stressed about traffic, concerned Luke wouldn't use the potty...I can't really think of anything I wasn't worried about. I suppose this was a good reminder that God hears all of my cares, because things went very smoothly. Andy was perfectly content with his surroundings, Luke went right into the church and used the bathroom, then, in typical Luke fashion, went straight to the toys. We listened to a sweet little story about saying goodbye to our moms, which included our first craft. We put my handprint next to Luke's on a piece of paper, then kissed 2 hearts and placed them on the handprints. If he ever gets anxious about being away from me, he has "the kisses" on our handprints hanging in his classroom. It was very fun. I don't think he was impressed, but a craft is always a bright spot in my day. He has 3 boy classmates and 8 girls. Wow! My objective in enrolling him is social development. It looks like there will be lots of opportunities to learn to get along with others, because every child is unique. I was determined to have him fully potty trained by today, but it didn't happen. I'm quite thankful that pull-ups are acceptable, because he sure did wear one today.
This was the most popular toy: the rice table. Luke is trying to pretend Sophie isn't telling him what to do. She did not want anyone to manage her project...welcome to the first day of the rest of your life, kiddos.
This is a modified co-op, which translates to parents doing a portion of the work to keep tuition costs reasonable. I signed up to be the class photographer/scrapbooker. I'm really thankful this is a 2 person job, because it is difficult to take good pictures of small people who don't sit still. Luke said he had a good time. I hope he still feels that way on Wednesday. I was quite proud of him, he told me about 45 minutes into the morning that I needed to go. So, I went. I think Andy and I will enjoy some one-on-one time.

First Cake

We had a pre-birthday celebration for Andrew yesterday, since the family was all together. Little man was not impressed by the mound of sugar camped out on his high chair. Perhaps he has inherited the "messy is bad" gene and just didn't like to have anything on his hands. I can't imagine where he got that from. For being such a large child, you would think he would inhale anything he could reach, but not so. If it isn't pureed, he isn't interested. We all enjoyed the cake on his behalf.

Andrew's Baptism

We chose to have Andrew baptized at our church yesterday. My parents and grandmother came for the day, as well as my sister and her family. Our new associate pastor, Jeff, did a wonderful job. Luke was in rare form, dancing in the aisle and adding his own comments during the baptism. If I wasn't so worried about Luke's behavior, I might have felt a little sentimental about the event. Pastor Jeff asked for someone in the congregation to commit to praying for Andrew from now until he is 18 years old. It's kind of an awkward pause as you wonder if anyone will raise their hand. Our friend and fellow small group member, Tara, was kind enough to rise to the challenge. Andrew did quite well. We never know what to expect when we throw a surpise into his normally predictable routine. He added a few words of his own and squealed a little. There is a portion of the sacrament where an elder asks the congregation to commit to helping us raise Andrew in a Christ-centered church family. She also holds the water for the baptism. In case you are wondering about the stranger in denim, it's Laurie the elder.

Luke, pondering the view from the stage

The sprinkling

Celebrating

The fellas, looking quite content during the limo ride.

These pictures are especially enjoyable because there isn't one single child hanging off any of our appendages! All of the little cuties stayed home with babysitters...what a treat! We relished every minute of our adult conversation and delicious food as we celebrated Don and Betsy's 50th wedding anniversary.

Fifty Years

We are off to North Carolina this week to celebrate Don and Betsy's 50th Wedding Anniversary. I'm quite thankful that we can be a part of the festivities. Such a fine example of love and commitment right here in our very own family. Happy Anniversary, Grandma Betsy and Grandpa Don!

Just Peachy

Steve and my mom decided they wanted to can some peaches this year. Steve carefully gathered all of the necessary equipment (including 40 pounds of peaches). I think they turned out about 18 jars in just a few hours. It looked like a lot of work to me, but I'm sure I'll be grateful in the middle of January when we have some delicious fruit.

Ta-Da!

Yahoo! The floors are in! Life is slowly returning to normal as we wipe away the sawdust and put everything back in its place. The boys are exhausted and the dog is sliding all over the floor, but all in all, life is good.

Meanwhile, Down on the Farm

We had to be away from the house during Operation Pergo, so my parents are kind enough to have us over. My mother flew back from Pennsylvania on Tuesday and brought my grandmother with her. I hadn't seen her in 5 years and she hadn't met the boys, so we especially needed to visit with her. Luke got a little restless, so Papa Dave offered to take him for a ride on the tractor. Luke was thrilled. After the tractor ride, they squeezed in a little baseball. Luke has a very exaggerated stance when he throws the ball, but he can throw pretty well for a little guy. He gives us a good laugh, too.

He even posed in mid-throw and said, "cheese!" I'm not sure where all of this drama comes from, but it certainly is entertaining. He has really been a good sport about being out of the house all week. I feel bad dragging him all around, but he seems pretty okay with it. What 3 year old boy wouldn't love a tractor ride with their Papa?

When we got home on Wednesday night, this is what we found. It looks great, even in it's half-finished state. We weren't quite sure what we were getting into, but I think we'll be pleased with the end result. It certainly is a messy little project...sawdust on EVERYTHING.

Operation Pergo

The "flooring guy" came this week and tackled a little project we're calling Operation Pergo. This is day 5 and it appears we are in a holding pattern. He had to use his handy-dandy saw to cut around all the cabinets in the kitchen, which apparently set him back a bit. He worked his tail off on Wednesday to finish the family room, kitchen, hallway and part of the play room. He hasn't been back since. It seems he has some kind of emergency, so hopefully we'll see him today.

This is how things looked just after "demolition". Ripping up the existing flooring took almost a whole day. The top picture is the family room, complete with Luke's "bed". He was convinced he could sleep downstairs for one night, but it just didn't happen. The second photo is the view from just inside the front door.

Look, Friends, It's Free!

My first giveaway, I'm so excited! It's the Dog Days of Summer Giveaway so please leave a comment and you are eligible to WIN! That's right. Something for nothing. No strings attached. Zip. Zilch. Zero fine print. What is this FREE item, you ask? Love and Respect by Dr. Emerson Eggerichs, a fanastic book that will transform your marriage. It's definitely a must-read, whether you've been married 10 days or 10 years. I will hold the drawing on Friday July 27th.

First Haircut

Poor Andrew. He was completely terrified from the minute we started this little adventure. He screamed so loud the other customers left. Oops. We tried the binky, but he kept spitting it out and it kept landing in the piles of hair falling from his giant noggin. I don't mind a little bacteria on the binky, but a binky coated in hair (even sweet little Andrew hair) is just a bit much. Kudos for the stylist, he was a champ...although the end result was just a smidge trendier than I normally go for...

Spiky isn't the best look for Andrew, but at least he still looks like a baby to me, for which I am grateful. I wasn't quite prepared for him to vault right into toddler-ness. He stopped crying as soon as I rescued him from the man with the buzzing clippers. As soon as I offered him a bottle, he was all smiles once again. Luke was very brave, sat in the chair and never made a peep. He is quite proud of his spiky orange hair and requested several photos. Thankfully I was able to move bath time to pre-nap instead of pre-bed, and the orange goo made a quick exit into the bath water. That is some nasty stuff and I just envisioned it smeared all over Luke's room, if left to his own devices. I don't think the creator of that stuff ever lived with small children.

Steve left for a guys' weekend in St. Louis this morning, just prior to the haircuts, so he missed the "spiky look". I thought he would get a kick out of this picture, especially since they look just like him!

We've Come A Long Way, Baby!

One of our stops in Spokane was my alma mater, Whitworth. We strolled around the campus and admired the many improvements. I can't believe it's been 9 years since we graduated. We spent Sunday afternoon with my former roommate, Kristen and her family. Her little dude, Rett (in the middle) is just a few months older than Andy. Kristen's dad said, "You've come a long way since Ballard hall!" He's right. We have and we wouldn't change a thing.

Road Trip!

On the road again...how quickly we have forgotten the trials and tribulations of our last adventure. Spokane was our destination, just a quick 5 hour jaunt on I-90. How tough could that be? Andy screamed for nearly 100 miles, followed closely by Luke's first experience with car sickness. I was ready to turn around, but the men in my life encouraged me to press on. After a wardrobe change for Luke and a quick cleansing of his car seat, we were back on track. I'm so glad we continued, as it ended up being a great weekend. We saw some dear friends, Luke rode the Ferris wheel for the first time and we squeezed in a quick visit with my cousin, Steve. Unfortunately, I was a big slacker in the photography department and the camera remained in storage for most of the trip. Here is one picture of Andy, beaming for the camera. He really does cry, honest.

It's Called a "Yurt", Y'all!

Our first family camping experience goes down in history as nearly successful. It depends how one defines success, I suppose. We stayed in our delightful little yurt, explored the surroundings, touched our feet on west coast sand...then drove home a day early while we were still relatively sane. Steve did an excellent job planning and shopping, preparing the food (we had french toast and bacon!). But one cannot prepare for the whims of a 3 year old. Furthermore, a 9 month old can only function for so long in strange territory before he slowly dissolves into a pathetic, tearful state. I think he cried more than half way home, poor little guy. His misery is cleverly disguised with a chipper little grin in most of the photos...so sneaky, this baby of ours.

This is a yurt, for all of you ignorant in the ways of west coast campers. Call us wimpy, call us cheaters, but we were fifty billion times warmer than the guys down the road in their rain-soaked tent. We had heat, futons and even laminate flooring!

Here's our youngest camper. Who knew a water bottle could provide so much entertainment? For those in the blogosphere who aren't in the midst of the preschool years, that's a Bumbo chair he's sitting in. No, it doesn't come with the yurt. It was a gift from my sister and family. It's a perfect little portable chair for babies and we just love it.

Luke was a superstar rookie camper. He slept in a strange bed, ventured out onto the beach and had a good time exploring the campsite. A little quality time with the portable DVD player worked it's magic, as well.
For those of you who live in close proximity, the campsite was Grayland Beach State Park in Westport, Washington. A popular destination, so book now for next summer!