Third Birthday Party

Sam is three!

This was his first party, and he loved it! We invited four little friends but somehow when you add siblings, cousins, and the neighborhood kids (who could see the jupiter jump from the school bus as they came home) we had 21 kids and 12 adults at our house. I do love parties!

Sam's arm is far right in a green shirt; Tate is far left in a green shirt

Toward the end, we were all a little tired, but the boys were so thankful for so many friends and family who came to celebrate!

A special bonus was that Grandma Faye came to see us for the weekend.

Sam showing off his tricycle skills for Grandma Faye. He loves the camera watching him! He is so big now!

Happy 3rd Birthday, Sam! Thank you everyone for the gifts and prayers for him!

Pump It Up

The four of us went to a party at a local place where everything is inflatable. We had a blast. The best part is that adults can do everything, too. Here is Tate going down the big slide.

Here are the boys trying to knock each other over with big soft sticks. Chris and I took turns, too. I think it was good for the marriage to just whack each other as hard as we could for a while.

This is Chris and his fire fighter buddies going down the slide at the same time. They sprayed silicon on it to make it slicker. When Tate and I would go down together, we went so fast we were flying off of the end and onto the floor. It was right up our alley!

Dad trying to bounce Tate and Sam high into the air!

And here are the boys. They are getting so big!

Boys in Spring

Just a quick catch-up on normal life here: Home schooling! We finished first grade with a bang! Tate is actually probably a good way into second grade, but I decided to just double-check what we had left, and we were already done! Yippie! Here is Tate enjoying some SECOND grade history outside. And I do mean enjoying. This kid is a sponge for information.

Sam has taken to eating his spagetthi the way Chris and I both do: with two hands, a spoon and fork and lots of slurping. We thought this was normal, but we've gotten comments that not everyone else in the world shovels it in this way bent over the table. Oh well, we like it. Yes, we still eat this meal at least once a week.

Sam is big enough now to explore and hunt on his own outside, which he does everyday. And this is his self-declared "uniform" for his "job," as he calls it: firefighter coat and boots, with Tate's old blue backpack and a blue scarf grandma Carol made Tate years ago. He pushes his dump truck and collects thing, usually at least one small animal. He insists on eating most of his meals outside as well. Sometimes we join him, sometimes we just wave from the dining room.

And yes, more bathroom pictures, since this is where all the action around here really is: Who can sword fight the best with pee? They were really on their way to the shower, they don't just run around like that (very often)!

Worm Rescue

Imagine waking up before dawn, swinging your feet over the bed to get up for a shower, and noticing that your lush, new, tan-colored carpet seems to be moving a little. And feels not very... carpety. But maybe a little slimy. Yep. After five inches of rain in six hours, we had the invasion of the worms.

Luckily, Tate was sleeping next to me (Chris was at the station), so I woke him up and told him to help me get the worms safely to the worm box. (Yes, we have a worm box. It was actually purchased AS a worm box and given to me as a gift. Not a joke gift, but a gift-gift. I like worms. I don't know why. But lucky for these particular flooded-out-of-dirt-and-home-worms, they picked a house to invade with a worm lover, ready to rescue with a worm box, already soiled.)

As we got all the obvious ones into the box, we realized they were coming in the cracks in the doors faster than we could catch them. So I opened the dining room sliding glass door, and five more fell into my hair and on my gown and arms from the cracks on top. Nice.

Tate took this job very seriously. He wouldn't even stop to smile for the camera, and I think he may have even been a bit disgusted that I was stopping on the mission for a photo-shoot. The worms were running out of moisture by the second, and we were at 39 rescued and counting.

Once Sammy woke up, we had stopped counting. They both found several more, and I left them to move furniture and finish the job. We found about six the next morning, and several each morning for a while after. Hopefully we WON'T find any dead and dried out under the beds later this summer! We love living in nature!

Tornado Alley

It is tornado season here on the plains. Last night we knew severe weather was coming, but it was still a shock at 2AM when we woke up to the thunder shaking the house. We checked the radar on my computer (no TV here) and basically the rotation (there was already a tornado warning) was about a half-mile from our home. Very exciting stuff.

The boys came bursting into the closet with me ready for the worst. Sam was upset that we weren't serving chocolate milk at our "picnic" on the floor, and Tate reminded me -- AGAIN -- that we have chosen of our own free will to live in notorious "Tornado Alley." He announced -- again -- that he will be moving a.s.a.p. to a safer part of the country, but that we are welcome to visit anytime.

After seeing that pouting for chocolate milk was getting him nowhere, Sam curled up under my "spring skirts" section and promptly fell asleep. Tate then continued his lecture on severe weather and complained that he could barely hear the computer's warnings over the ridiculously loud hail pounding the ceiling. We turned it up. After a while, the radio switched to the storm chasers' reports: "Live from highway 75, we are driving north and can see the wall cloud descending....." This was more than my rational son could bear. "OH! So now they are driving INTO the tornado's path. Brilliant! This is so ridiculous. WHY oh WHY do we live here?!" Of course as you have guessed, no tornadoes touched down anywhere, or I certainly wouldn't be making light of it. Tate protested our love of Spring storms by not participating in hail-collecting, lightning-watching, or carpet-sopping-up (little leaks in the roof). I think we'll try to help him sleep through the next tornado warning.

Are we Red-Necks?

Question: After all my formal education, am I a red-neck?

Fact: We have a beautiful Koi pond (currently koi-less) that Sammy likes to go out and pee in.

Fact: Two weeks ago at Tate's soccer game, Sam had to pee.... so he just stood up, yanked down his pants and peed onto the field. (I pretended I didn't know him)

Fact: Yesterday while I was work, Chris decided to go to Super Wal-Mart and have the oil changed in his HUGE truck and pick up some groceries. (That in itself may be evidence enough!) He asked me to just meet him there when I got off work at 3pm. When they came out to my car Sam had PAJAMAS on -- yes, the same ones I had put him in the night before. He was also wearing a rain coat and rain boots (it was blindingly sunny), and his Dad's oversized Fire Fighter hat, matching Dad's. They had Happy Meal faces, complete with ketchup stains, little toys, and french-fry breath. Chris, first of all, was taken aback by this new information: "Wat?...Doesn't he get himself dressed?.... No?.... Oh.... Well, you really can't tell. I thought they were clothes." I should also mention that they had fresh flowers for Mama and so I didn't think twice... until today...

I have to know, are we red-necks? If so, should I be concerned?

Sam caught in the act.

Lego Builders

They have already played around ten hours this week of legos at the new (okay, Goodwill) lego table. It doubles as our new coffee table, which we have needed to buy forever. They were just so cute I couldn't help but take some pictures.

They are showing me all of their new inventions.

They wouldn't be still anymore so I had to sneak pictures from the upstairs landing.

Contemplating the new "army base" architecture.

Later, when I was actually trying to work, I heard screams of rage and anger. I reprimanded Sam for yelling in the house, and he cried, "But MOOOOOOOOOMMMMM.... I HAD to squ-eem at bw-udder! He sent a kamikaze fighter pilot over and attacked my base, de-stw-oying it!" Ohhh.... of course.