The Squirmies

I tried to get the boys to sit still on the fireplace so I could snap a few shots. Being young (and being boys), they had a case of the squirmies so found it to be a difficult task. I had a hard time getting both boys in focus in the same shot since it was a lot of Bud chasing Big around and trying to sit next to him for the picture. So, ignore the blurs, and just enjoy the process.

You can tell that Big was less than excited about being pinned down for the shot. Big scooched all of the way down the fireplace with Bud in hot pursuit and finally ran out of scooching room.

Big was perfectly happy with the big orange basketball he was holding-- until his brother went and grabbed Big's brand new ball. His favorite. He wants it so badly!

I love the way Big is eyeing the coveted ball in this picture, but is restraining himself.

I convinced Bud to trade balls with Big so Big could have his favorite. Luckily, Bud was hip to the idea and made the switch. Ah. Much better.

I love the way Bud and Big interact with each other. I never get tired of watching (well, except when they're fighting-- that can get old at warp speed, I admit). Happy. That's what they make me.

Birds and Boogers

Big loves to look out the picture window in our living room in hopes of seeing a bird or two. He stands on the couch, propped against the back cushion, and just watches, alerting us all when he is successful in spying what he's looking for. "Birdie! I see birdie! Birdie flying!"

Here are a few pictures of Big looking for birdies:

And here you see what may occur if the bird-watching is a little slow:

Big discovered his nostrils fairly recently and, for the moment, seems to be satisfied with just testing the fit of his finger. He has not yet progressed to actual picking, or (shudder) eating what he finds. I'm sure that is soon to follow, however. (sigh) Good thing he's so cute.

The Storyteller

Bud has developed a great love for telling stories. In fact, he is becoming quite the storyteller. The other day, I asked him to tell me a story and then photographed the process. He told me a grand story about a princess and a witch. I found it quite entertaining!

Here is Bud agreeing to my request:

Giving some thought to how the story should start:

Here we go:

Getting to the meat of the story:

A little humor near the end...

...followed by a happy ending.

Thanks for the great story, Bud! I love to hear them!

Ironing is Fun! Right?!

I spent a good chunk of time ironing a few items this afternoon (7 shirts and 1 skirt, to be exact. Not that I'm keeping track). Let me just tell you how much I hate ironing-- I hate ironing! Probably has something to do with all of my dad's handkerchiefs, and shirts I had to iron as a kid. Not to mention the flat sheets I spent my time on (I know-- you're thinking, who really does that?! Well, now you know!).

As I struggled to get the more stubborn wrinkles out of shirts big and little today, almost burning my face in the process (don't ask), my eye noticed the dent in the plaster from the last time I ironed (again, don't ask)-- clearly, ironing is not my forte. I'm sure I could be good at it if I really tried, but I am obviously lacking passion for it. I have absolutely no desire to excel in the field of ironing.

While ironing, I began to wonder-- who is it that decided that clothes look better pressed? Is it a decision made by some iron inventor who, through some clever advertising at the local mercantile, convinced the world to buy his irons, because clearly being well-pressed was the way to go? Or is it something that we have been born with? An innate desire to be wrinkle free?

It's not that I don't have that desire to be wrinkle free-- I just prefer to be wrinkle free without having to iron! Rophone has, in the past, stopped me on my way out the door, made me strip, and ironed my clothing for me. Rophone has been in charge of doing virtually all of the ironing for 14 years, so I've decided it's time to turn over a new leaf. Time to give Rophone a break and take my turn at the board. It's time for some sacrifice and selfless giving on my part. That's what marriage is all about, right?

And, admittedly, when I think of ironing as something I'm doing for Rophone as a surprise or a special treat ( I mean, who wouldn't rather find ironed shirts in their closet instead of wrinkled ones?), it makes it almost enjoyable! (Okay, so that is stretching the truth a little-- but I don't hate it as much, really!)

Unscathed

No real commentary for this post. Here are some shots of what the other kids looked like after arriving home from church unscathed:

This is what a growing boy looks like (he only naps when he's growing):

He crawled up on his unmade bed to play cars this afternoon and this is how we found him an hour later.

Looks like I'll need to measure him in the morning. ; )

Rudolph's in the House

I am a firm believer that some children-- the head heavy ones in particular-- should not be allowed to run downhill on a hard surface (at least not until the head to body ratio shifts a little in the body's favor). If it's grass, or sand... sure! Let them give it a go. But just not on cement, asphalt, gravel, or the like, please. 

If you fail to heed my warning, your child may end up looking like this:

Cute, admittedly, but more than just a little like Rudolph. Rophone and the kids decided to walk home from church in the nice weather and I, by default, was elected to drive the car home. I saw what had occurred as I drove past them, so hurried and got my camera to capture the result of the head-lead fall. (After what happened to Big today, Rophone just may join with me in my no-hard-surface-hill-running beliefs.)

Here's an up-close shot-- see the forehead, nose AND upper lip wounds? Ouch!

I snapped a few shots later in the afternoon while Big and Rophone were playing ball. I found it humorous that Big kept getting bonked in the nose with the ball, but wasn't deterred from playing. I'm sure it really stung his nose, but Big just loves playing ball that much.

Rudolph never looked so cute! 

Dunked!

Yesterday was Ginger's baptism. The LDS Church believes that since she is now 8 years old, she has reached the "age of accountability" and is considered able to discern right from wrong and make correct choices. So, time to get baptized and start anew!

Here is a picture of Ginger and Rophone before he baptized her:

The happy father and daughter after the deed was done:

Ginger, with her 102 year old Grandma Gigi:

The baptismal program was wonderful (thanks to everyone who participated!) and I think it is something that Ginger will remember forever. After the baptism, the family came over to hang out and eat some food. We ate pulled pork sandwiches (as per Ginger's request), fruit, veggies with dip and dessert. It was all nummy and the company was great! Thanks again to all who helped out and came to support Ginger on this momentous occasion! It was truly a fantastic day!