Thank you

We've got a good dad in our house.

We don't tell him that enough.

He does lots and lots for us and even rearranges his work schedule to come home during the middle of the day and sit in the rocking chair with the RSV.

And, he gets gas in my car.

Thank you.

We love you.

I blame Wal Mart

The Chicker has RSV and an ear infection

breathing treatments every 4 hours for the next 5 days.

pretty much on quarrantine.

sucks!

Based off of my calculations of incubation periods, he most likely got it over the weekend while we were in Southern Utah. I'm going to assume that it was when we were at WalMart, getting diabetic test strips.

Okay, so I guess we can blame me.

I'm so sorry Chickie!

Gems

Some samples of my daily three year old love…

Mom, this balls for you. It's fat and your fat.

Mom, stop talking. I don't like the sound of your voice.

Mom, go away. I don't like you right now.

Mom,why do you have a fat stomach? Because you had two babies? I think you might be having another baby.


Oh, can you just feel the love?




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Road Trip - Griswald Style

I've been wanting to get away for weeks. Minus a 72 hour stay in a hospital last May, I haven't been anywhere for a year (not counting of course, beautiful Capser, Wyoming).

About 6 weeks ago I put my nag machine into full force. A quickie weekend for some sun down south I begged. Eventually, Ross caved and we planned a short weekend trip to see som sun, let the kids play outside, and just "let our hair down" so to speak.

Lucky for us, the weather in St. George was awesome last weekend, is looking beautiful for this coming weekend, and was crap the last 3 days while we were there.



Cold. Rain. Snow.

Just our luck.

We found some stuff to do.

The highlights:

• rain and snow
• Forgetting diabetes test strips and swim suits - special trip to Wal Mart.
• The Chickmonster (his new name) taking his socks of a million times and spitting at us
• forgetting all hair supplies.  Making do with nothing + soft water
• eating good BBQ in St. George (Troy's BBQ)  - actually, some of the best brisket I've ever eaten.  seriously, where's "diners, drive-ins and dives"
• going to the airplane museum - it doesn't exist anymore.  Want to buy the building?  It's for sale
• Dinosaur Discovery Center - pretty cool
• Outlet malls - sucketh.
• driving 80 mph in a snow storm
• rock hard bed
• wild indian children - example:  eating breakfast on Sunday morning, the Chick looked at a very cute little boy, and growled at him like a dinosaur
• pizza factory - always a hit.

Honestly, though we had a good time.  Our kids paced the hotel room like caged tigers waiting for raw meat for a few days, but we still had fun.



Even if Elliott is only in charge of the forks.

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My Boys Friday: Sometimes, it's best to just laugh

I love my boys.

They are funny.



The Chick had his 9 mo. check-up the other day. Just shy of 24 lbs (he lost weight since the ear infections - too much mobility), and 29 inches tall. That puts him in the 90th percentile over all and much bigger than, well, 90% of the kids his age.

This week he has started spitting. It's icky. I do not care for spitting. He thinks it's hilarious. He has also invented a fake, mocking laugh. That is actually pretty funny. I wish I had it on video but alas, the kid just wants to eat the camera instead of perform for it.



And my 3 year old Monkey? The big conversation of the week has been about whose the boss. No, not Tony Danza. He wants to know who is in charge of stuff - and people for that matter. Basically, it breaks down like this (according to him)

Mom is in charge of herself and Chicker and dinner.
Dad is in charge only when mom goes to newtual (mutual) on Tuesday nights.
Elliott is in charge of himself and the forks.

Part of this discussion of "in-charged-ness stems from setting the table every night, and whether or not it's okay for the big brother to shove cheerios and other items into the little brothers mouth. You see, that's not okay - because Mom is in charge of Chicker and only Mom gets to help him eat cheerios.



And in some sad family news - on Wednesday night we had a death in the family. Blue Fish, our blue beta fish died. He was old. We got him in November and he lived a long life as our fish that we didn't really take great care of, but we did feed regularly because mom was in charge of that.

Right before dinner last night I discovered him "sleeping" on his rocks. As father and son washed dishes after dinner, they "discovered" Blue Fish and had a talk about why fish die when they get old. The kid wasn't quite sure how to deal with it - whether to be sad and cry, or just sort of laugh it off. It was very cute and sweet to see him waiver in between emotions like that - he's sucha good boy.

After a bit of talking, father and son decided to bury blue fish in the flower beds out front. I guess it's morbid, but I just had to take a picture of my sweet little boy digging a hole for his first pet to be burried.

He dug the hole, dad dropped the fish in and as together they covered him with dirt, they said goodbye - and told Blue Fish that he was a really good fish.

It was a beautiful service.