Wednesday, November 30, 2011

A Coco 'Ch'ristmas...

Because I have become completely over the top,
I purchased a white artificial tree with pink lights, pink ornaments and pink beads, for 75% off, following Christmas last year. Perfect for two, spoiled girls.
This afternoon, the idea was to let the girls 'mostly' decorate their tree, so they would 'mostly' leave me to neurotically color coordinate my decorating.
I tried my best, to ignore the bulb grouping... but let's get real, I have already been in their room twice, to move them around.

I had purchased the most adorable, pink glitter 'Merry' and 'Christmas' to place near the top. The tree looked super, Pepto Bismol cute. Except later....

Upon further review...
The 'Christmas' appears to be missing something.
Though it was returned exactly to the previous spot.

After MUCH questioning, we are certain, Coco is the culprit. Unfortunately, we have not recovered the 'Ch'.
What the heck did she do with the 'Ch'???

This is What I'm doing Today:

Tis the Season... and all that Jazz.

PS: When exactly, did I turn into the 47 yr old,
Crazy Christmas Tree Lady??
It's possible, I could scale back a touch.

Sunday, November 27, 2011

Medieval Times.

For The Kid's Birthday celebration, we gathered Quincy and the grandparents for our first evening at Medieval Times. Even with reservations, we were arrived to a VERY full lobby. Prompting the extremely kind Grandmothers to upgrade our tickets to the Front Row. Gifting us royal treatment for the show.

This picture, of the men in paper crowns, is maybe the best part of the night. How much, must these Grandpas love their grandchildren??? Typically... they are not exactly paper crowns kind of guys.

I was nervous about the 'no utensil' dining experience but the food was actually very good.

Gramma and her knight in shining armour.

We were cheering for the Red Knight. Whom Tink developed a teeny crush on. Both cute and scary.

Coco cheering for Red!

Grammy and Pop-pop sprang for The Kid to officially be knighted, as a present. Because what The Kid needed was to feel even more entitled than usual...

Overall, the evening was nice and entertaining.
The boys loved the show. My final assessment: Sorta like Build-a-Bear workshop... fun, cute, something neat to do with your kids but just a bit pricey and probably we won't need to go back any time soon.
Still, I would definitely recommend it to others.
Happy Birthday, Kid! We love you.

Thursday, November 24, 2011

Thanksgiving 2011.

As always, I am most Thankful for my beautiful and healthy Five Family. Very blessed, to have been given the opportunity, to hold their hands.

I am also grateful to own a home, to host our large and amazing family, on this holiday. We'll especially be thinking of and missing, one special guest, at our table. I hope he can feel our prayers and love.

Happy Thanksgiving Blog World.

Ending Credits:
Photographs by: Amber Brown Photography

Film Creation, Editing and Arrangement by: Me!!

Tuesday, November 22, 2011

One full decade ago:

I became a mother, to a son.
The first words the Doctor spoke upon your arrival, "He's here! He is so long and skinny!!" You were, still are and always will be... so long and skinny! And... you were most definitely Here. My first child.
Hours later, we were alone. Sharing our first of many, snuggle mornings. I repeatedly whispered, "I love you. I'm so happy to meet you... I'm your mom." I am sure you did not require my introduction but I needed to hear the words, "I'm your mom."
This morning, I've officially been a mother for ten years. TEN YEARS?!! When did that happened? Wasn't I just holding you? Were we not just snuggled tight, pressed heart to heart? I swear, I was just touching your baby soft hair, to my cheek.

It is remarkable, how people think they understand 'love'. Believe they've experienced 'love'. They love their parents, friends, they have been coupled and even married. A person will throw around an "I love you" without abandon. Then, that person becomes a parent. And their heart, literally blooms.
It grows. It physically aches, from the immediate bloat of new Heart Departments... labeled: Protection, Complete Preservation, Devotion and Hug-ation. A new parent, creates a mental list, Thousands of Things 'they' will do better, than any parent before. Insuring their baby, will flourish without complication.
After ten years, I am already over whelmed with regrets and 'I shouldas'. He was the 'first' for all of us. I'm sure we tripped a few times. I coulda done more.
I shoulda hugged more. I shoulda given more vitamins.
I shoulda held my cool. I shoulda taken more pictures.
I shoulda just really watched him more. Just sat in the yard and soaked up every detail of his chubby cheeks and toddler waddle. Somebody, shoulda told me it would go by SO DARN FAST! Ten years?
Are you kidding me?!

I suppose, I've done something right because The Kid is literally Amazing. His brain is a labyrinth of information. Details, intertwined with facts, sprinkled with interesting quotations and anomalies. While there is certainly occasion the well of intelligence feels plenty deep enough, I... eyes-squeezed-shut pray, his mind will only continue to impress.

The Kid is fiercely loyal. A devoted and sensitive friend. He desires the acceptance of his peers, as well as his adult companions. Often, his intelligence mistakenly convinces others, he is more mature than children his age and yet... he is sweetly and naively innocent. Possibly because of an overly protective and hovering mother, though I suspect he is an inviting soul, desperately wanting to believe people are inherently good. An admirable trait, which unfortunately scares the heck out of me.

The Kid is a most frustrating closet athlete. The raw ability, lays nearly completely dormant. Preferring a good book, to a dribbling drill or an afternoon at the batting cages. Encouraging his father to frequently deep sigh, followed by an exasperated forehead rub.

The Kid is the quintessential Dr Jekyll and Mr Hyde, of big brothers. Igniting from me, a firestorm of "Get away from your little sisters!!" or a smile, as he reads their favorite books. He secretly (no secret, he says it all the time) prefers a little Coco. Though, I wonder if him and Tink will eventually have more in common.

Above all: The Kid is an affectionate and devoted grandchild. An excitable and easily impressed nephew. A grateful and smiley cousin. And The Very Best Son we Have (as long as you don't wake him too early, tell him to put away his clothes, ask him to pick up his room or generally forget he Runs The Show...)

To my son:
As always, on Thanksgiving I am most Thankful for your arrival. Thank-you, for changing my entire world. Your birthday, is the date which defines the first and second halves of my life. Your deep, thinking brown eyes are the mirror to myself. Ten years ago, you gifted me the most important role of my lifetime. I pray, I have given you, even a fraction of the knowledge, strength and meaning you have given to my growth as a person. You were my 'starter kid'.
My first ten little fingers and ten little toes.
I could never express my gratitude, that you chose to love me. You will forever be, my favorite dance partner. Words simply can not describe.
Happy Birthday 10th, son.
Despite my pleas, you continue to have birthdays... and you just may age too big for my lap, too heavy to dance sleepily within my arms and too tall to hide safely in my shadow... but you will never, become too old for me to hold you tightly inside my heart.

Monday, November 21, 2011

The Rules of Potty Training:

While on the phone with my mother, I became frustrated, as I realized Coco had once again removed her own diaper.

Me: Ugh! Coco took off her diaper again. She really thinks she wants to be potty trained.

Grammy: Then train her! You are the only mother I know, who doesn't want to potty train her kids.

Me: I like to wait til they are totally ready. I hate cleaning accidents. It's better when they are really old enough to actually take themselves to the bathroom.

Grammy: Well Coco wants to be ready like her sista.

Me: She's not. The last thing I want to do, is take gross Coco, into a thousand public bathrooms.

Grammy: You're just gonna have to start training her. She's ready.

Me: She's sooo not... If you're not old enough, to figure out you can't LICK toilets, then you are definitely not old enough, to USE a toilet.

Grammy (hysterical laughter... because it's true.)

Friday, November 18, 2011

Tink is Thankful for:

At Tink's preschool Thanksgiving dinner, our table marker was created by our daughter. Each child designed signs, listing what they were most Thankful for, in their life. Tink's read:

First: Yes, that is a picture of her Grammy, Pop-pop and her old dog Desmond (which you'll remember was banished for not playing well with others.)

Second: No. The mother, whom is with her nearly every hour of every day... was not listed.

Third: You'll note Grammy is obviously wearing a sheer shirt... as you are still able to see her belly button.

And Last: Yes... my dad has pony tails. Ugh!

I would almost hate this sign.
If Tink wasn't so adorable later:
When she lost her first tooth!!

Tink was incredibly excited the next morning, after a REAL LIFE fairy had been in her bedroom! Leaving pixie dust under her pillow and on the money!!

The Convo Between Husband and Wife later:

Me: Welp... that's it. Now she is all grown up. Teeth are just falling out of her mouth.

Coach: I know.

Me: Why??? She was JUST our tiny little baby, days ago. Too tiny to grow up and lose teeth!

Coach: I know.

Me: Next she'll be in high-school. Driving the car and having a boyfriend.

Coach: No. That's dumb.

Me: We're just gonna have to get another baby. Let's adopt one this weekend.

Coach: As soon as we get rid of the dog.

Wednesday, November 16, 2011

The Official Re-introduction:

Gramma and Grandpa have 14 grandchildren.
For two years, I have used their birth order, as their blog nick-names. I thought this would be easy for
(at least the family!) to remember. It most definitely WAS NOT easy, for even their parents.
Sooo... today EVERYONE gets a nickname!!
Every name, originates from a portion of their actual given name. Therefore, if their parents do not like the new nicknames... well.... I guess, you should have considered future blog monikers when you filled out that birth certificate. Not my fault!
Side Note:
Nearly every name, has an Irish/Catholic background.
(FYI- My children will remain the same.)

Former Blog Name: One
New Blog Name: One or First
One's name will remain. If there was anyone, convinced that he is Number One.. it's this kid.

Former Blog Name: Two
New Blog Name: Decimus
"My name is Maximus Decimus Meridius, Commander of the Armies of the North, General of the Felix Legions, loyal servant to the true emperor, Marcus Aurelius. Father to a murdered son, husband to a murdered wife. And I will have my vengeance, in this life or the next." Coach's favorite movie line. Ever.

Former Blog Name: Three
New Blog Name: Joseph (Jumbo Joe) Stydahar
Born March 17, 1912. American football offensive tackle for the Chicago Bears from 1936-1946 and is a member of the Pro Football Hall of Fame.

Former Blog Name: Four
New Blog Name: GlenAllen Hill
May 11, 2000: Hill became the 1st and thus far only, Chicago Cub to hit a ball onto the roof of a five-story residential building across the street from the left field wall of Wrigley Field. Hill wore the #4 Jersey.

Former Blog Name: Five
New Blog Name: Princess Grace of Monaco.
Monaco, Moni or Mona for short. Her choice.

Former Blog Name: Six
New Blog Name: John Quincy Adams "Quincy"
Our 6th president and a lifelong Republican.
Revered for fighting the good fight!
Also, I have many happy childhood memories in Quincy and now, my children have many happy memories with Six aka Quincy.

Former Blog Name: The Kid
New Blog Name: The Kid
I nicknamed The Kid when he was maybe 2 mos old: and it's never gonna change.

Former Blog Name: Eight
New Blog Name: Bondie Beach "Bondie"
Bondie Beach is a beautiful white sand beach in Sydney, Australia. No one makes me think about suntanning... more than this girl.

Former Blog Name: Nine
New Blog Name: The Galway Girl.
Galway is a city located in Ireland.
Plus she really is some kinda Gal.

Former Blog Name: Tink
New Blog Name: Always my 'Tink'erbell

Former Blog Name: Eleven
New Blog Name: Owl
The exclusive Bryn Mawr women's college is a highly respected and serious institution. Educating accomplished women. Their mascot is an "Owl".
A seriously beautiful animal, with captivating eyes.

Former Blog Name: Twelve
New Blog Name: Joy
This 'middle' child, radiates pure Joy.

Former Blog Name: Coco
New Blog Name: Coco
She still envelopes warm coco happiness.
Plus she's sorta messy, like melting chocolate.

Former Blog Name: Fourteen
New Blog Name: Gipper
Warhol's fav president, Ronald Reagan.
I plan on referring to her as Baby Gipper.

At least until Number 15 is born...
keep me informed gang,
whenever it is time for me to post a new name.

And there you have it,
Fourteen nicknames, officially assigned.
Whew! Exhausting.

Tuesday, November 15, 2011

She's got no Shame.

A few days ago, while at The Kid's Parent/Teacher conference a typical moment occurred. Yes... The Kid is smart. His grades are exceptional. He sometimes has a temper but is a wonderful and respectful student (yep... totally just like in our home.)

After the 'conference portion' we took a moment to browse around the classroom. They have a large goldfish tub section, in the corner. We walked over, to look inside the giant tub full of fish, turtles, crawdads...etc. We were chatting, The Kid was excited. Suddenly, in the corner of my eye, I spot an accident in progress. I lunged my body forward and slide my hand expertly in between the dirty fish tub's edge and Coco's slowly opening mouth.
"Coco! Don't put your mouth on that!!!"

I looked up towards the teacher. Who seemed slightly surprised and confused. I matter-of-factly explained: "Uhhhh.... she likes to lick stuff."

Coach simply nodded and shrugged in agreement.

Possibly, the teacher marked Coco in a book labeled:
"Future Siblings NOT to Request in my Class."

Saturday, November 12, 2011

Workin 9 to 5...

And on the third day of birthday posts,
my good lord gave to me...
One tough lil GG,
ummm, in a pear tree??

anyway, you get the tune I was humming...

Happy 95th Birthday to the official matriarch of this large and crazy family. Ninety-Five years, feels unimaginable and yet lil GG appears just as sprite as a young lady. She has maintained her adorable figure
(so teeny, like her great-grand daughter Tink).
Still GG is just as tough as she is cute. To be a wife, in this family, I have learned it helps to be schooled in the art of organization, scheduled patience and a silent and hidden Firm Hand, guiding your husband with a gentle smile. Lil GG has commanded her farm and her family (for nearly a full century!) with an opinionated style and calculated grace. She is our very own Queen Elizabeth I (with all of the beautiful gowns and strength... minus the angry decision not to marry!)
I have often heard lil GG exclaim "Congratulations on your pregnancy! Now, I just have to stay alive for Amanda's baby, Kathy's baby, your baby, their upcoming marriage...etc."
If she intends, to wait for every great-grandchild, born to this extremely fertile family: then we're keeping her for another 25 years. Which is fine with Coach, as he is convinced his Grandmother is invincible. I'll tell you this... I'm not sure he is incorrect!
Happy 95th Birthday lil GG.
You are an extraordinary woman.
Life has granted you many blessings, all of which you have dignified with humbled thanks and appreciation. You are one of many, amazing women, for my girls to model and respect. I am grateful to know you and to be a part of your amazing family.

Happy Happy Joy Joy!!

An Ode to Joy:

Happy Birthday to a tiny enigma. You first appear quiet, content to play sweetly in the background, a pleaser... seemingly satisfied to delicately shadow your big sista. Then, if crossed, you will fight for your Barbie with the scream of a wounded hawk and the will of a tiger. You are both hilarious and soft-spoken. Silly and serious. A whisper of blond hair with deep brown eyes. Thus far: our only tru second-generation Brown Eyed Girl. (which exclusively reserves you the right to dance ridiculously with our group and tell the superior Tink to sit on her righteous bottom!)
You have a tough show to follow, with that big sis... still, I am confident you are able to carve your own unique and genuine path.
I eagerly await the ensuing drama of the growing friendship between you and Coco. You are both just a wee bit of a mess, which warns me you will definitely give your older sistas some high-school grief. If we were only granted a nickle, for every time Tink and Eleven, will roll their eyes at their younger bothers.
Shine on, gentle shadow.
You are certainly a Joy to our World.

Happy Third Birthday!
We love you.

Thursday, November 10, 2011

Coach's Big Three-Oh

In honor of Coach's thirtieth birthday, I have reluctantly resolved to do something so rarely seen... it's nearly an endangered trait, almost myth-like...
I'm actually gonna (gulp) be sweet to my husband.
(Brother-in-laws: you may wanna sign-off)

Dear Coach:

It's possible we are the happiest, most content and most comfortable we've been (don't screw it up). We have settled into a very busy, yet blessed place in our lives. We almost have a pretend sorta handle on parenting three children. We have spray-painted our house into a home-base, which reflects our interests and individual tastes. (except the kitchen... nobody is tasting THAT counter) We are content in our professions, extra smiley satisfied with our amazing group of friends and essentially most grateful for what has been gifted to our small family.
You are still super cute. Almost (dare I say) cutER than before. I can hardly resist your ridiculously confident grin (gosh knows there are many times, I try to stay angry and your stupid cuteness gets in the way)
Above all: You are my laugh. Without question, you honestly "crack me up". Your clever, quick and occasionally shocking humour, wakes my spirit and keeps me on my toes. You simply: Amuse Me.
To quote a sappy movie or an over-played pop song:
You make me wanna be a better person.
My world will never be the same and you're to blame.
You inspire me. Your enthusiastic love for life, continues to fuel my own dedication to this blog, my yoga and the small details which form my life.
I'm a pretty impressive mother: but you have proven, parenting is a team. We are partners in raising the best little people, I've met. (Partners in the sense, I really do 70% of the most difficult stuff...)

I suppose, I'm prepared to learn how to make-out with a thirty year old... it's seems sorta creepy but I'll give it a go. I guess, we are really in this for the long haul. I look forward to our lives unfolding.
Keep me laughing.
Keep us simple.
Keep making us better.
And I promise to do the same.
Happy Birthday, Husband.
Here's to 30 more years of life filled with couch snuggles, frozen pizza lunches, cooking-dinner hugs, glances over our children's cute little heads and of course... your epic car-ride rock-star solos.
'Sometimes it lasts in love.' Really. Sometimes it does.

Doc is right:
You are too cute... and I totally Heart you.
(at least until the next time, you tick me off...)

Wednesday, November 9, 2011

A dedication:

Today, my father returned home and requested my mother locate and print lyrics to a song. He explained: Twice, in the last 2 months, he has driven Joel to the hospital. Both times, the same song played on the car radio. Both times, Joel turned the song up and asked Dad to listen to the words. Both times, Dad was distracted... stressed, upset, tired and (I'm sure) convinced Joel was confused or disoriented.
This morning, the same song played once again, while Dad was alone in his vehicle. He turned up the volume and listened, as Joel had asked him twice before.

The song,
was "Unwell" by Matchbox 20.

After hearing the lyrics, Dad realized Joel was trying to tell him something. As you can imagine, Dad is devastated to learn he did not 'hear' his child. After mom told me this story, I was very moved and asked to print the lyrics on my blog.

Except printing the lyrics, would not give this moment the significance it deserves. I spent this evening creating this video, as a dedication to my brother.

We are all listening.
I am sorry, you had to ask twice.

Tuesday, November 8, 2011

The Next 90 Days....

Last week, I felt a shift in my relationship with my brother. A jolt in the plates of my family, so slight the people around me may not have registered. Yet, significant enough to my energy, I could almost feel my soul shudder. Wednesday evening, I went with my mother to visit Joel. He called twice, asking for me. He took me to his room. He was extremely disoriented. Very distraught. Paranoid and physically unwell. When asked later about the visit, I could only verbalize:
"It was the worst thing, I have ever seen."
I'm sure to the precious few whom (gratefully) continue to ask, my response was vague and confusing. What was the worst thing I had ever seen? What did that even mean??

After giving myself a few days to absorb the past week, I understand my statement. The following evening after my visit, my brother 'voluntarily' signed paperwork to commit himself to 90 days in the State Mental Facility. Yes, this (fingers crossed) will be a positive step in Joel's struggle. Yet, the shift I spoke of was so quick... so minuscule... such a flash... others may not have noticed.

Joel is currently taking 17 pills a day, for schizophrenia. Pills to help him relax, to help him sleep, pills to help his mind desperately find clarity. For a body to digest this much medication, presents a long list of uncomfortable side-effects. His jaw is locking, his joints are stiff, his body is shaking uncontrollably.
We were visiting during dinner. I carefully watched him eat. He was primal as he consumed his meal, devoid of the common table manners installed in us as children. His hands gripped his food with such controlled deliberation. Obviously requiring his full concentration... simply to eat a meal. When he raised his coffee, his jitters caused him to spill on himself.
What was the worse thing, I had ever seen?
I saw my little brother's future.

Joel was once so handsome. A shock of blond hair. A bright trouble-making smile with a glint of mischief in his eyes. Joel was much more full of life, than I. He was interesting and magnetic. He was a brilliant shooting star, while I remained boringly calm, feet planted in the ground. He was four years younger than I and still, he could command attention. Joel grew taller, stronger and grabbed onto life with more unbridled enthusiasm, than I could imagine.
I understand, his unapologetic 'zest' was likely an early symptom. Fifteen years ago it was an envy-worthy character trait, which made him posed for greatness. Joel's intelligence, athletic abilities, fearlessness and popularity presented him with endless possibilities.

Wednesday night, Joel appeared hopeless. He looked much older. I sat close to him, he let me touch his hand. I noticed grey hair. His over-medicated body was wrapped in a blanket. My stomach felt ill, imagining this scene playing over again in 30 years. Just Joel and I. One day, we will be what remains of our family. I will likely become his care-giver. Just the two of us, with only my set of memories.

One saving grace over the last ten years, appeared to be the mostly happy and safe world Joel had created for himself. Joel designed a small environment, with a few close family members. He enjoyed mowing the lawn, watching sports on TV and visiting with his nephew and nieces. He seemed to freeze himself in time. He never appeared depressed. He never mentioned the ugly side of this disease, which eventually encourages it's victims to take their lives. We assumed, he was comfortable within his mania.

In the last month, Joel has been aggressive with my parents. He has crushed them verbally, claiming they were bad parents. He accusing them of abusing him and making him become like this. Obviously, his accusations have crushed my mother. She is heart-broken, Joel is unable to remember how amazingly happy we were, as a young family.

With me, Joel has been more direct. His thoughts continue to scramble but he has voiced painful observations, making it clear he is struggling under the weight of his fate. In the last few weeks, he has cried to me. His deep grown voice, has cracked repeatedly. He confided, he thinks I am embarrassed of him. That I prefer the company of Coach's siblings. He is upset, he does not have a wife, a home and children of his own.

Wednesday evening, as he argued incessantly with my mother, over a belt (he is unable to wear a belt with his jeans, in the institution) he became more agitated as he went back and forth with her. Finally, I interjected "Joel, they will not let patients have a belt, because they are afraid you will hurt yourself."
Without hesitation he responded "If I were going to hurt myself, I would have done it a long time ago."

The very idea, he understood harming himself was an option, was shocking to me. I had always hoped the world Joel created, protected him from such feelings. I honestly believe, my brother manifests memories of a poor childhood, as a mask. How could he live with the memories of how amazing he was? How could he wake-up each morning under the weight of the friends, possibilities and the future he has lost?

I imagine, the worst thing my brother has seen over the last few weeks of his extraordinary mental break, must be his own depressing reality. Honestly, how do schizophrenics find the strength or will, to forge ahead? Hopefully, a little bit of that unbridled life-grabbing enthusiasm remains in Joel's character. Enough to put himself back together.
While Joel, his team of doctors and my parents continue the daily fight of trying to find peace.... I have resolved to calmly maintain a sense of normalcy. Joel is an Uncle. A job he has flourished in. Yesterday, my children drew Uncle pictures. Tink made rainbows, Coco scribbled happy purples and reds and Joel's god-son drew (surprise) a ship.

(Uncle Joel and baby The Kid)

If we are a cornerstone of Joel's future. It's time for me to pick myself up and start walking down this road. Am I pleased, God has chosen this path for me?
Hellz no... but He has.
Please continue to send your prayers and positive wishes towards my family. I'm afraid we will need them, for quite some time.

Monday, November 7, 2011

Coach's Birthday Party

For Coach's birthday adventure, I invited all of his favorite people, forced them to take a pole dancing class, tricked them into pulling multiple dares and even found time to feed them Jimmy Johns. The night was a huge success. The invitees are amazing sports and I am officially daring them, one last time:
I dare you to watch this video.
You... and maybe 300 other people.

(Keep the video small, for clarity.)

Thank-you, for proving to Coach,
that he absolutely knows the BEST people.
Maybe not the most sexy...
but definitely the most fun.

If you have a weak spot for Strip Clubs:
this video, will help cure that fetish.

Saturday, November 5, 2011

Yo Shorty... its your Birfday...

Tonight we are celebrating my husband's 30th birthday. I have planned a fun night of twists and turns, surprises and plenty of reason to laugh. While Coach is aware there is an adventure this evening, I have kept the details from him... as well as the invitees.

Side Note: Coach's family is a close bunch, whom totally heart talking on the phone with each other and totally heart telling each other funny things and seemingly totally heart having the complete inability to keep a secret. Still: I totally heart them.

Therefore, I have released a small set of Clues, over the last 3 weeks. The Clues are as listed:

Clue #1: You must wear athletic clothing! Pick the cutest outfit you could run, catch a ball, or sweat in... You will not be given an opportunity to change.

Clue #2: Coach is NOT fancy, he is NOT romantic, he shows little class, loves a dirty joke, prefers situations which do not require manners and is just a wee-bit competitive. This evening, will reflect those ideals.

Clue #3: You may hold a basketball.

Clue #4: I dare you.....

Clue #5: Coach never had a Bachelor Party.

I was forced to ask Coach to help with 3 tasks.
1. We need 2 basketballs.

He questioned indoor or outdoor basketballs. A legitimate question, as we own at least 26 basketballs.
I answered: Outdoor.
He responded: Interesting.

2. We need 3 coolers
3. We need 1 football

Yesterday, he asked what I had left to arrange:
I responded: I still need to find a sprinkler.

(That MAY have been sarcastic.)

Only a few more hours, until the night is revealed!

Invitees, Last Warning:
If you can't take the heat, you best get out da kitchen!

Thursday, November 3, 2011


While you are busy, perusing the Halloween clearance... picking up a few extra bags of candy (for your kids, of course!) or pieces of a costume for next year, maybe even a few new decorations...
Please remember:
To purchase a totally awesome mask,
for our upcoming Hollywood Masquerade Ball.

Brought to you by our Relay Team.
This coming January 28th.

Because: Yes Dave, we still really HATE cancer.

Tuesday, November 1, 2011

What? Halloween's for kids??

"This is Halloween...."

Our carved pumpkins... including General's 'carving'.

Two Bumble Bees and Rocky.

Check out those Abs of steel.
We have him on a pretty strict work-out plan.

Stop. Pause. Look at that beauty.

What??! People are just handing me candy?!!

Kids: Daddy, who are you dressed as?
Coach: Drew Anderson.

When you run way too fast towards free candy and your little bumble bee legs can not keep up, sometimes you faceplant on the street. Ouch.

Tink loves her some wings. Three years running...