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Showing posts from February, 2011

8 plus 2

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makes ten.  That's eight inches of madness plus two inches of "I'll fix it".  That's eight inches of regret plus two inches of "I can make this better".  That's eight inches of bad impulse decisions plus two inches of "I can't take it anymore". Which all adds up to ten cumulative inches of hair in my trash can, ten inches less hair on my head. Pictures. You want pictures?  Well, I tried to have my local amateur photographer take some, but she doesn't always push the button down hard enough so then I have to reach out and help her and then... well the shots we get aren't always glamorous.  But here you go. Maybe I'll try again later. So I blame my mother for most of this. And my childhood. (Love you mom.)  See, growing up my mom cut my hair.  I have never put much thought into my hair beyond: I like it long, and mom cuts it.  End of story. Turns out that Nebraska is a little far away for my mom to be coming

I Heart Bums

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 I love these little bums. These tiny hineys, if you will.  And clearly I'm not afraid to show it.  I'm glad my pants don't have a heart on the bum though, not gonna lie about that. I love these little faces, too. It's the weekend!!

Introducing This Guy

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A few months ago, try 4? 5? 6? I had some responsibility at church that required me to be there in the evening. I no longer remember all of the details, but for whatever reason Devin and the girls came along.  They played in the nursery while I did whatever it was I had to do and then we all went home and put the girls to bed. It was an evening like many others that we have spent, it was ordinary in so many ways.  But as I was changing Hanna's diaper, all of that changed.  And my life may never be the same again. For as I opened it up, do you know what fell out?  This guy. Yeah. And I thought, my baby is a thief. We have to take this back. I can't believe she stole from the church. But as I finished changing her diaper I began to ask myself if they were really going to want it back. I  mean, he came home in her diaper, ya know?* So we've kept him.  I find him all over the house.  He just keeps popping up.  I think of him as my little house gnome. You know, a hou

Photo Catalog

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Hallie takes more pictures.  Great job, kid. Seriously. The car after our trip to Kansas City.  Cleaning it out was the last thing on our minds as we drove into the garage. Hanna went to the doctor today. She had been anemic. She's better now. Hallie went to the doctor later that same day. She'd been experiencing a high level of intense gastrointestinal distress that I could no longer live with.  (what I'm trying to say is we were all tired of her being constipated.) I cut off large chunks of my hair in a fit of winter madness on Wednesday. We had a brush of nice weather, but it left me confused. Too warm for my boots, still too cold for sandals.  I was too tired to sort it out, so I went deep into my closet and pulled out my old indoor soccer shoes. I've been saving them for years, why not wear them every now and then?  And Devin's book was published.  Well, the book he wrote a chapter for.  You can buy it here at Amazon.com  It's selling fo

-cation

There are two things in this world that nobody doesn't love: Sara Lee, and free vacations. There are two things that I have always known about Devin.  He is very good looking, and has always wanted to be a professor.  That is why it came as no surprise to me when he applied for a job as a professor, nor when he was offered the job, nor when he accepted it.  What has come as a surprise is how often he is gone for conferences and meetings.  So whenever he has one that is within driving distance, I pack up the girls and we go with him.  That's how I found myself driving to Kansas City for what I thought would be a nice, free vacation on Wednesday afternoon. I'm going to take a moment right now to tell you about my Valentine's day.  We woke up and it was a beautiful morning, so I went with the girls to the park with some friends.  We came home and we all took nice long naps.  Devin came home from work and I had made a delicious dinner.  Shortly after dinner I got sick.

Christmas Songs

I was driving through a quaint little part of Lincoln earlier this week and strung between two lampposts was a huge sign that said, "Seasons Greetings".  Apparently someone was a little slow this year taking down the decorations.  (The sign said "seasons" not "season's" just so you know.) Thanks to Hallie we've still been feeling quite a bit of the Christmas season around here as well.  Every single night before bed since before Christmas she has requested that I sing "Silent Night", or as she calls it, "the Jesus song" - because, as she assures me, it is Jesus' favorite song.  I didn't know that, but I am perfectly willing to believe it. Not only does she request that I sing that to her at night, but she is still joyfully wandering around the house singing Christmas songs at top volume for all in the house to enjoy.  I thought I'd share with you some of her "creative" lyrics. For your convenience I hav

Tunas, Whales, and Blondes.

When I was 11? 14? One of those awkward ages I signed up for reasons inexplicable to participate in a talent show. I had no talent, but somehow I was talked into just telling jokes.  Blonde jokes, of course, since I knew so many of those.  The big day arrived, and soon it was my turn up on stage.  I was introduced, and people were on the edges of their seats, prepared to laugh uproariously at my sparkling wit and smooth delivery.  I stood in front of the microphone and stared at their eager faces.  I gazed blankly into their expectant eyes.  I had no idea what I was supposed to say.  Fumbling, grasping for any words at all, I finally muttered, "Um, I forgot my joke." Wild laughter broke out amid thunderous applause.  I was a hit. They loved me.  I was smart enough to recognize that this would be a one hit wonder and retreated to my seat before they saw through me. I've never really managed to escape from the stereotype that my hair casts me into.  Every time we move so

Identity Crisis

Did you miss me?  Probably not.  But boy oh boy have I missed my blog.  The poor thing has been going through a bit of an identity crisis.  Or, if you don't think blogs can have those then let's say that the part of me that writes this blog has been going through an identity crisis. I think it really all goes back to this post , when I discovered the world of blogs.  Until that point I had believed that I was simply one of many, many women who write blogs that are pretty much all exactly like mine.  So imagine my surprise when I realized that this was not the case, not at all. Sure, there are hundreds of women who write blogs just like mine, but there are also some women who get paid to write their blogs.  There are people who have photography blogs, and craft blogs, and mod podge blogs and sewing blogs and food blogs and so much more! And I guess discovering that the blogging world was not one dimensional like I had always thought it was, but rather three dimensional mad